#christmas is cool but i can’t handle crowds like that

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hii i have a request for megumi x reader where he is unaware of readers attraction to him and he is doesn’t realise the effect of when he does something like scratch his neck and his shirt lifts and it happens one too many times until she admits that he’s pretty which makes him all flustered😭 can be sfw or nsfw

Staring Problem

Five times Megumi caught you staring at him + the one time you caught him staring at you

Notes: I got carried away whoops. Flustered Megs is my fav followed by feral. (I actually had another scenario like this for Christmas except the Reader was doing it on purpose rofl; this one is just a bit ditzy). Thanks for the request. It was fun! Thank you @avidbroswer and another friend for beta reading!

Relationship: Megumi x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fluff, humor, mild sexual context but overall SFW (i.e. no sex), 5000 words

The first time Megumi notices you staring at him is after the baseball game with the Kyoto students.

The game was a big win for your group. Everyone was loudly cheering and celebrating your victory over your sister school – aside from him. It’s not that he wasn’t pleased with the victory. Who wouldn’t be? The cheering and high-fiving wasn’t his scene though. The most celebration he required was simply brushing his hand through divine dog’s fur for a job well done before dismissing the creature.

Megumi walks back to the dugout, steps into the drop-off, and peels his helmet from the top of his head. The sweat accumulated in his helmet causes his hair to cling to him, forcing it down against the back of his neck and his bangs into his line of sight more than usual. He never liked what he considered too much hair on his nape; and for some reason, Gojo hated it even more. Not that he ever understood why Gojo would care about how he styled his hair. He was just weird, he guesses.

Either way, it was annoying.

Gripping his shirt collar, he brings it to his forehead to clean the moisture away, and there’s the added bonus of the breeze cooling off his stomach as his shirt untucks from his uniform pants. He finishes off his grooming with a quick stroke of his fingers up through his bangs before reaching for his water bottle.

It isn’t until he’s finished drinking and wiping away the small bead of water that escapes his mouth to cascade down his pointed jaw with the back of his wrist that he catches the sudden sensation of someone looking at him.

He glances behind him, scanning the crowd of cheerful faces, and he catches your gaze pinning him down. There’s no mistake you’re watching him, but he isn’t sure why you have that clouded, half-lidded stare locked on him like a homing gun.

It makes him antsy even when your neutral lips turn into a gentle smile, and you move to congratulate Itadori on his victory-winning home run.  

The next time he catches you, you’re at the café with the other first years, pouring over schoolbooks together. He doesn’t often study with the others outside of class; but out of everyone in the school, he has the best head on his shoulders academically so he can’t really refuse when the three of you earnestly ask for his help for once.

As he draws one leg over the other, Megumi shifts his weight to sit more comfortably in his chair. He rests his chin against his palm, allowing his lengthy fingers to massage the increasingly growing migraine from his throbbing temple while his elbow braces against the table to support the position. His other hand tightens around the handle of his mug and brings it to his mouth. The drink – coffee, black, always – is the only thing stopping his mind from going numb at reviewing the same information he already knows as Nobara struggles to read the chart on this particular page.

“Toos-day.”

“Tuesday.”

“When-is-day.”

“Wednesday,” Megumi corrects.

Stomping onto her feet, her hands slam on the table causing it to shake. Megumi holds his drink closer to his chest to avoid it spilling over as she growls out. “This is so stupid! Why do we need to know English anyway? Why couldn’t it be something like French? Then, we could at least hit up Paris Fashion Week.” She pulls at her hair in frustration, stopping only when you mention that she’ll cause split ends. Sighing, she releases her tension and falls back in her chair. "I need a break."

On that, you're all in agreement.

Taking the opportunity to ease his head, Megumi blows away the steam swirling from his coffee. He closes his eyes if only for a moment to bask in the roast. The liquid is hot and smooth on his tongue, a welcome sensation after walking through the cool evening to get here. It’s enough to earn a small sigh of approval.  

When he opens his eyes, he sees that you’re nursing your own drink by pinching your straw between your lips. However, your eyes are on him 'or maybe the mug near his mouth?' he thinks. Regardless, you’re doing it attentively with an affectionate glint like you were smiling on the inside. It makes his eye twitch.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You flinch like you’re snapping out a hypnotic trance. Slowly, a meek smile forms as you innocently tilt your head and place down your drink. “I was?”

“You were," Itadori corroborates. "You do it a lot actually," Itadori adds between bites of his sandwich. The fact is something Megumi has begun to notice recently as well. 

Noticing everyone looking at you, your eyes widen slightly before you force them back down to look at your textbook. You slide your hands from the table and rest them in your lap. “I must’ve zoned out,” you say apologetically.

Megumi scoffs.

“If you’re going to ask me to help you study, you could at least pay attention.” Megumi sighs at the growing remorse on your face. “Forget it,” he dismisses and decides to go back to his coffee, but the peace doesn’t last long as he catches that same gaze from you a minute later.

Your eyebrows push in together as you narrow your eyes briefly in thought, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going on in your mind as you cock your head to the side again.

“Ne, Fushiguro,” you begin hesitantly and quietly. He doesn’t think he would’ve noticed you speaking to him with how soft your voice was had he not already been looking at you. “Did anyone ever tell you that your voice is kinda husky in English?”

Suddenly, his face is hot along with his tongue as he inadvertently chokes on his drink while the other two at the table burst out laughing, drowning out your frantic mutterings as you collapse your face into your palms.

It seems to be a cycle now. Megumi would be going about his day when he would occasionally (usually twice a day) get this sensation of being watched. Sure enough, he could find you following him with your eyes. There isn’t any anger when you’re doing it so he’s fairly sure that you’re not cornering him with your sight out of aggression, but he couldn’t think of another reason his presence would be of interest to you.

Megumi tried to ask Gojo the reason why someone might stare at him. When he explained that you were the one doing it, the older man only laughed at his predicament. Megumi didn’t know why he expected him to be any help in the first place anyway.

Maki was even less help (she seemed reluctant even), but at least she didn't look at him like he was an idiot like Nobara. Finally, there was Itadori, who only caused him more difficulty.

(“Are you sure she doesn’t just LIKE you?” Itadori suggested.

Megumi could only roll his eyes then. It always came back to that with him. “Look, if you’re not going to take this seriously—“

”I am!”)

Megumi almost entertained it until he thought ‘what reason would she like me?’ After all, you didn’t know each other that well. There was no explanation available so it had to be something else.

Out of everyone, he decides to take Maki’s advice that it's best to get the answer from the source.

However, whenever he asks what’s the problem, you never seem to give him a direct answer, explaining away your strange…habit. Even stranger was that he was starting to become accustomed to it, slowly losing the annoyance he held for it early on in your relationship – or maybe he was getting better at ignoring it.

Nonetheless, it would still be nice to have an explanation.

When he sees you early at breakfast, and you undoubtedly see him early at breakfast, he finally decides to broach the topic. He sits himself and his plate at your table, and he doesn’t give you the time to make excuses when he knows for certain you were staring at him.

“Alright. Enough already. What's the deal?"

“Hmm?”

“The staring,” he reiterates.

Your mouth opens like you want to say something but throughout the many times he’s confronted you on your manners, not once have you ever given him a straightforward answer.

“Don’t try to give an excuse. You were definitely watching me.”

As the small silence extends in the air so does the embarrassment on your face until it finally fades away along with your resolve. “Okay, this time I was,” you admit very specifically.

“Why?”

“There’s not really a reason," you explain while looking anywhere but directly at him, and it's an easy tell to sense that you're lying.

Megumi narrows his eyes at you. 

“For some reason, I feel like that's not the case."

There has to be some reason your attention is on him so much. He’d at least like to know if it was something he did to you.

“It’s nothing bad really,” you confess, avoiding eye contact with him while your fingers fidget. “Do…you want me to stop?”

Megumi would very much like to say he wants you to stop but somehow he doesn’t think he would be able to force you not to look at him. “I’d prefer it.”

“No problem,” you say and purse your lips tightly. “But…I probably wouldn’t be able to help it every now and then,” you warn him, which piques his curiosity even more.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, that’s because, uhm—to tell you the truth,“ you pause, and he wants to prod more from you but you’re quick to excuse yourself, leaving him with two weeks free from your staring. Or, at least you attempted for that long.

As he accepts that you're not going to stop, it comes to him that he doesn't really care anymore in the following months. It's just how you are, he figures sentimentally. It would feel weird if you stopped at this point. However, it leads to you catching him off guard too often, especially in moments like these.

The two of you were assigned to a mission to dispatch some low-level curses together. It was surprisingly easier than what the mission report suggested, not that he would complain about an easy mission.

Nue is behind him as he requests a ride back to the school over the phone. The bird shikigami is being needier than usual, nudging at the width of Megumi’s back with his head causing Megumi’s voice to be unsteady as the thick plate of Nue’s mask braces between his shoulder blades.

“Cut it out,” he scolds gently, reaching his free hand back to briefly ruffle at random mounds of feathers.

There’s a soft crooning in his ear, begging for attention. He isn’t used to Nue being this affectionate, not like his divine dogs. As he hangs up the call, Nue starts to stroke his head against his side again.

Amused, he huffs softly - as close to a laugh as anyone has ever heard from the taciturn teen – and raises his arm to let the bird cradle better against his side. The gentle cuddling from the shikigami is enough to lighten his mood as auburn feathers tickle against his fingers and coax the smallest smile from him.

“Alright. Alright. That’s enough,” he says affectionately before returning to the serious matters at hand. “We need to regroup with our partner. Can you go scout for her?” Megumi asks; but to his surprise, Nue flutters his wings and twists his head around to stare directly to the side of him…at you, a few feet away.

Megumi didn’t know how long you’d been standing there, watching him. He thinks any time was probably too long in this situation. (He also thinks he might demand you start wearing a bell when you go on missions together.)

With a goofy smile, you walk towards him, and his heart is pounding, anticipating what you could possibly be about to say as you shorten the distance between the two of you, so close that an outreached arm would be enough to close it. The childishly smug look on your face makes his cheeks burn as you gently begin to trace the outline on Nue’s faceplate and press your head against the top of Nue’s.

“Before you say anything, I wasn’t watching you. I was admiring Nue.”

Megumi scoffs. He can’t say he isn’t amused that out of all things to say, you start with that. As if it isn’t obvious by now that he knows that you’re failing hard to hide your bad habit – for whatever reason you have it. And even more amusing was the way your face would highlight in embarrassment as you tried to hide the fact.

“Convenient story.”

“It’s the truth. Isn’t that right, Nue? You’re so handsome that I can’t tear my eyes away,” you praise, cuddling the owl until he ruffles his feathers and chitters, happily letting you drown him in attention.

And for the first time, he finds himself watching you instead with your face buried against his shikigami, and Nue is equally happy for your touch. It’s a sweet scene as Megumi concludes where Nue might have started to learn these overly affectionate tendencies. That is until you turn your head, naturally searching for his presence. When you meet his gaze, you smile warmly at him causing heat to crawl up the back of his neck and his heart to jump in his throat. With your focus on him this way, he is overwhelmed by a new sensation that he isn’t sure why he’s feeling in the first place. It’s not like he was unused to you looking in his direction.

Astonished by the moment, you point out, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile before.”

Confused, Megumi blinks at you. Had he been smiling?

Your expression softens. “It suits you.”

Surprised by your tender observation, he shifts his head away, hiding his rapidly reddening cheeks from you.

“Let’s head to the meeting point,” he manages, thanking whoever above that he was able to keep his voice steady at least.

One day, you decided to stop at the café together again. This time it’s only the two of you since the others are still out on their own duo mission. Even with that being the case, he would still have accepted your invitation regardless of the availability status of your other two friends. He isn’t really sure when he started to be okay being alone with you, and he also isn’t sure when you began to get comfortable with him as well. But he finds he doesn't mind either of those anymore.  

“You’re staring,” he points out flatly, not bothering to look up from his book to confirm his accusation. He knows it’s true. “What is it this time?”

There’s a laugh from you, drawing his attention up. “Nothing.”

Normally, he would let you get away with that answer nowadays; but today, Megumi is determined to finally get to the bottom of whatever is up with you and him. 

“Nothing?” he questions again skeptically. You nod, and he holds his gaze on you, pointedly, securely, determined to not even blink as he watches your face.

You frown. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” he asks, one long blink to reset himself before firmly keeping royal blue eyes locked on you once more.

“That,” you say, motioning to all of him.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Uh-huh."

There’s a small beat of quiet as you return your focus to your book, but you look up every so often (probably to check if he's stopped eye-ing you down, which he doesn't). Holding an arm across your chest to scratch at the other, you squirm. As awful as it is, he feels a bit smug at the way you curve in and start to grow self-conscious.

“This is weird.”

“It is,” he agrees bluntly causing you to pout. He notes how funny it is to finally see the tables turned between the two of you and to have you overly aware of his watch. Even if he doesn’t get his answer, teasing you like this and eliciting that cute reaction is strangely worth it.

“How long are you going to do that?”

Megumi crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, never letting you leave his vision. He shrugs. “Depends. Are you going to tell me?”

You scowl but manage to hold your resolve for the better half of five minutes.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll stop,” you say, but he isn’t satisfied with that answer. Choosing to keep his rebellious challenge against you, he leans in closer and keeps up the wall until you finally start to crack under the pressure. “Well…it’s nothing really.”

“Then, tell me.”

“It’s,” you begin then pause.

He hunches in closer as if to keep your secret.

“It’s just that…” he can see you start to fidget in your chair, and for some reason, he feels his own anticipation growing. “You have a really pretty way about you.”

That was not the answer he was expecting.

“Huh? I have…a pretty way about me?” he repeats in disbelief, his face scrunching. “You must be joking.”

“I’m serious,” you tell him. “It’s something in the way you move, it makes it hard to concentrate.”

Megumi could only guess what kind of answer you would have but it wasn’t one that instantly makes his temperature skyrocket and causes his heart to start swelling against his ribcage, spreading the feeling of liquid butterflies through his veins.

“That's the only reason,” you repeat, noticing the way he seemed to completely stop functioning. “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

He uncrosses his arms, trying to sputter out a coherent sentence but his mind wouldn’t supply him with one as he fights to keep his own blushing down. “No. I’m not—it’s not that I’m—I just didn’t know what it was about—I—pretty?” he stammers, completely bewildered to the point he thinks his voice might crack for the first time in years. 

You nod, growing more embarrassed. “I mean in a masculine way! Like your eyes, your hands, your voice, and the way your shirt drapes your shoulders. Ah! Basically…you’re really handsome,” you finish quickly when you realize you are rambling stupidly, and you squeeze onto the edge of your chair to calm yourself.

It’s so quiet between the two of you that you could possibly hear one of the cheap plastic straws from the front counter drop.

“Fushiguro-kun?” you ask bashfully.

He focuses his attention on the passerby's walking by the window as he shifts and squeezes at his uniform collar, attempting desperately to hide a fraction of his burning face behind the dark blue fabric. You…were simply attracted to him for some reason he would probably never understand (why in the world would you think any of that about him is attractive?) all this time.

“Let’s pretend this conversation never happened,” he tells you frantically.

Nodding, you confirm. “Yeah! That’s a good idea.”

For once, you’re not staring at him yet Megumi still feels like he can’t breathe despite the rapid rising and falling of his chest showing that he was very well breathing. As his face continues to burn and his stomach churns with this unfamiliarly pleasant and confusing emotion, he wishes his shadow would open and swallow him whole. Forever, perhaps.

It isn’t until later that night when his mind is heavy with thoughts of you, he admits to himself that he doesn’t exactly hate your reason.

Bonus

Before you enrolled in this school, your clan already outlined your priorities in life. Study, learn, become the best sorcerer you can for the benefit of the clan and your own survival. There isn’t time for things like friendship and even less for love, your family taught you, at least not until you’re older.

You agreed with that sentiment, going through your younger teen years not ever having a crush on someone or a strong preoccupation with romance. However, this school is proving that you still very much feel attraction.

Specifically for your withdrawn classmate.

Something about him was just so pretty. You’re not sure if it was the way his hair falls ever so neatly over his forehead before turning back into spiked peaks, or how deep blue his eyes are especially when shadowed by gorgeous rows of midnight eyelashes, or the way he carried himself like the stoic protagonists in the love comics your friends were obsessed with last year.

Maybe it was the entire package.

At the time you first started to notice him, you didn’t have the answer pieced together yet. Seeing that you also hadn’t learned anything proper about romance and attraction from your clan let alone flirting, the only thing you could do was stare at him as you failed to decipher this newfound infatuation that made your heart stutter and your lower body hot with tingles similar to the sensation of ginger spice on your tongue.

‘Is this that puberty thing they were talking about in health class all those years back,’ you wondered. They did say it could happen late, but this late? You weren’t sure, but you did like looking at him. That much was certain.

So, you continued to do so.

It's not like you were exactly going against what your clan told you.

After all, your clan would always say it’s important to be aware of your surroundings as a sorcerer, remember every little detail, and save it to memory, that could be the difference between death and victory in a battle.

Shouldn’t you take that advice to heart when it comes to your teammates as well? After all, these are the people you will be relying on while working. It’s important to learn their mannerisms.

Another thing your clan told you was that hands are an important thing to watch. Any sorcerers’ hands were a danger from Itadori’s hand-to-hand combat style, Gojo-sensei’s domain expansion, and Fushiguro’s entire technique.

His hands were always coming together to summon shadows, and he talked and explained things frequently with them to the point it became a distraction for you.

You also like the way his dominant hand always seems to climb up and curve around the back of his neck in the mornings as he stretches out the tightness from a cramped sleep. You would watch as he glosses each finger across his nape and shoulder, wondering what it would be like to have them coming across your own and to have fingers that could expertly craft signs tickling at your skin.  Would you shudder or would it tickle or would it feel like nothing?  Fortunately, you always resist the shaking urge to glide your own hand across your collar to find the answer.

It isn’t always the way his palm brushes his neck that entirely gets you but the way his sweatshirt rises, barely revealing a ring of beige skin that was normally hidden away under layers of comfortable cotton. It not only exposes him to the stagnant air of the school building but to your wandering eyes that had a bad problem of not being able to remain where they should be.

Objectively speaking, you were aware from day one that Itadori was strong and well-built under his clothes, but you didn’t realize the same could be said for Megumi until you saw the slip of his lower abdominal and the constellation of pale brown freckles hidden in the groove of his hip.

By the time your attention would return to his hands, you would be locked on the gentle way his knuckle catches the edge of his shirt's neckline. It was unknowing to him during those times that the action was teasing you by causing the fabric to lightly shift and expose the crux of his collarbone. 

Then, you didn’t even want to get started on his face or eyes. The same ones that are gorgeously blue even when stormy with annoyance or softened with confusion every time he would catch you.

From your point of view, you admit that both looks were handsome on his face. However, you’re starting to realize from your last interaction that maybe you were being a tad…invasive.  You refused to say creepy without a pillow to scream into.

So, you convince yourself to stop staring whenever you notice your eyes drifting to him. Only small peeks for his comfort unless you were talking to him or he to you. In hindsight, you think you are better at talking to him without embarrassing yourself all the time at least.

Your new resolve would be tested today as you prepare to head to the training field for another day of close combat drills with your upperclassmen. You dress in layers, wearing a light jacket and thigh socks with your shorts, fully intending to ditch both once it heats up a little more in the afternoon.

When you make it to the practice field, you notice two things: that Megumi is there (which you swear you only took note of for two seconds) and that you’re the last to arrive, meaning that you’re going to be the first put through the wringer with Maki-senpai.

The only positive is that you manage to last an extra round against her more than usual, and you’re left with only an aching butt as you hit the ground. You hiss and rub your wounded rear before dusting the ripped-up blades of grass from your lap. Noticing your socks bunched against your ankles, you click your tongue. Bending your legs, you start to shuffle one back up the length of your calf then your thigh. You unfurl it as high as you can until there’s only a small circumference of skin left between your shorts and the top of your sock. Satisfied, you start to repeat the process with your other leg before Maki taps your hip with her staff.

“Megumi is staring at you,” she grunts in a quiet warning, and you blink at her before trying to glance back over to the first row of bleachers. “Not too obvious.”

You force your gaze back to her, using the opportunity to catch Megumi in your periphery. Sure enough, you could barely make him out looking in your direction while Itadori talked to him. That was weird. You don't think you can recall a time where he was watching you unless you did it first. ‘He was probably watching me train,’ you begin to decide.

Before you can register what's going on completely, Maki calls out dryly, "Hey, Megumi, pictures last longer!” 

Barely from this distance, you can see his head snap back and a scowl glowering on his face as he glares at her direction. “What are you talking about?”

“So, you want to play that way,” she mumbles and singles him out with a point of her staff and a crooked smile. “In that case, I’ll explain while we train!”

Megumi looks more annoyed than you have seen him in the last few days as he declares from the bleachers that he’s training with Panda instead as soon as he’s done with Nobara.

“That guy,” Maki grumbles quietly, slapping her staff back against her shoulder and layering a hand on her hip. “He makes things so difficult for everyone, including himself. I guess I’ll have to have a chat with him later.”

"Huh?" you huff as she twists her waist to look at you.

“Well, I can’t exactly have my darling little relative turning out like the rest of those perverts from the clan, after all,” she explains vaguely but instead of anger, there’s a rare hint of sarcastic amusement in her words. Suddenly, it starts to dawn on you what Maki means as your fingers brush the side of your inner thigh, and your throat starts to tighten with something akin to anxiety, and you want desperately to bury your face in your hands as you realize that he was looking at your legs. That he must like your legs…

The thought makes your heart pound, and something pulses inside you with what feels like anticipation as you catch his attention on you again. You were used to lusting after him but it was a different feeling to experience it in reverse – mutually even.

Is this what it felt like? Have you ever made him feel like this by watching him?

You didn’t know what to do.

“What do I do?”

She gives an incredulous look. “Call him out naturally, especially if it bothers you,” she replies. "But that isn't what you want, right?"

You frown, not entirely sure yourself. It didn’t bother you necessarily. If anything, you like his attention on you. It makes your body otherworldly hot when he gives it to you. Pulling your knees to your chest, you think back to what someone in one of those television dramas would do in this situation. It takes some courage, but you find your answer.

You wink at him.

It elicits an immediate response that involves him shoving his hands in his pockets and scrambling to break eye contact; so much that you can see Itadori twisting towards him with concern.

“Hah, that was a good one." Maki lets out a short and harsh snort. "Wait until I tell Panda.”

Smiling proudly, you can’t resist staring at the flush that he has to stand and stalk off to the other side of the field closer to Inumaki and Panda to hide. Out of all the attractive things about him, you think that might top your list; and truthfully, you wanted to see it again.

[coraniaid]

Top 5 Faith Moments

Okay.  Just sorting these chronologically and not trying to rank them: it was hard enough to cut the list down to five.  But I think these are the most quintessential Faith moments. Not necessarily my favorites, but the moments that reveal the most about who she is.

from Amends (S3E10)

“Thanks, but I got plans. There’s this … big party that I’ve been invited to.”

I know that Amends is not a popular episode around here, and I don’t really care for the stuff with the First myself (except for Buffy’s speech to Angel about the importance of fighting and not giving up, which I think is very good). But I have a bit of a soft spot for it because of the Faith content.

The porch scene later on is more probably more of a crowd pleaser, but – as I think I’ve said before – it was this earlier moment in the episode where Faith as a character really clicked for me. The sad little Christmas decorations in her motel room; the way she immediately assumes (correctly!) that inviting her over wasn’t Buffy’s own idea; and the fact she lies – and lies really badly – about already having plans, rather than admit that, just as she doesn’t have anything in her life beyond Slaying, she doesn’t really have anyone in her life who cares about her except Buffy. Even if Buffy doesn't care about her as much as (or in the way that) Faith wants.

She is such a loser (affectionate).

2. from Consequences (S3E15)

"I've seen it, B. You've got the lust [...] You can’t handle watching me living my own way, having a blast, because it tempts you.  You know it could be you […] There’s my girl."

I think Consequences is probably the best Faith episode -- probably one of the best episodes of Buffy altogether -- and I could have easily picked a few different moments from it. The way Faith keeps trying to convince Buffy (and herself) that she doesn't care about Finch's death. The way she compares herself to Angel when asking why Buffy won't cover for her. Her little muttered "um, sorry" after she lies to Giles about who killed Finch. "I hope evil takes MasterCard".

But I think this scene is probably the best, and the most important for who Faith is as a character: not just a mirror and a shadow to Buffy, but somebody who on some level knows that that's what they are and chafes at the thought of it.

As we'll increasingly see later, Faith is not "having a blast" right now. But part of her is still convinced that, if she can just convince Buffy that she's like her, then somehow everything's going to be okay. Because Buffy is better than other people ("didn't you stop the world from ending?") and so if she and Buffy are the same then so is Faith.

And if she's wrong, if they're not the same after all, well ... maybe she should just try to be more like Angel, then. Didn't Angel just tell her they were a lot alike? And after all, Buffy would have protected Angel. Buffy's into Angel: "Bet a part you even dug him when he went pyscho." Maybe if she were more like Angel, it wouldn't matter if she's wrong that killing Finch didn't matter. Maybe she really wouldn't care.

3. from This Year's Girl (S4E15)

"I know what it’s like.  You think you matter, you think you’re a part of something, and then you get dumped.  It's like the whole world is moving and you're stuck, like those animals in the tar pits. It's like you just keep sinking a little deeper everyday and no-one even sees."

This is both really sad, in a way that echoes Faith's speech to Buffy in Sanctuary a few episodes later ("there's just pain and hate and nothing you do means anything"), and weirdly funny. I mean, with the Mayor dead, Joyce is probably the adult that Faith has the best relationship with in the world at this point. (Faith describes her as "really cool" when she first meets her, she knows that it was her who invited her over for Christmas, and next episode we see that she still has a lot of sympathy for Faith, even after this episode.)

I think that (given her own parental situation), Faith really does feel affronted on Joyce's behalf that Buffy hasn't been around to visit more. And it's not like she has any friends she could go and pour her heart out to about waking up to find that she's been 'dumped'.

But Faith has just broken into Joyce's house and taken her hostage. Faith is holding a knife to her throat. She keeps reminding her that she could and probably will kill her. This is not, perhaps, the best time to complain that her daughter has moved on from Angel to somebody else who still isn't Faith.

4. from Who Are You? (S4E16)

"Because [...] I could do anything I want, and instead I choose to pout and whine and feel the burden of Slayerness. I mean [...] I could have anything. Anyone. Even you, Spike."

Cannot stress enough that this is the first time Faith has ever met Spike. Five seconds ago she didn't know who she was talking to, she didn't even know he was a vampire. Now she's sharing as detailed a fantasy as late 90s network television would allow on air about just how amazing it be to have sex with Buffy Summers, while complaining bitterly that Buffy is a "stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun".

I ... uh. Somehow I don't think it's Spike that Faith is upset Buffy won't have sex with.

5. from Dirty Girls (S7E18)

"Willow said you needed me. Didn't give it a lot of thought."

I really don’t like the second half of Season 7 much but I think one of its saving graces (after Chosen) is that it brings Faith back to the show.

And I love the dynamic that Faith and Buffy have this season: the way Faith says "Willow says you needed me" with that slight stress on 'needed', as if it perfectly explains why she's here, only to immediately second guess herself and ask if Buffy wants her to leave. The way Buffy awkwardly says she's "glad" that Faith is back in town (echoing the Amends porch scene). All the other callbacks to Seasons 3 and 4, to Consequences and Who Are You?, that the show manages in its last half a dozen episodes.

And I love how quickly the show re-establishes Faith as a major character, and how her relationship with Buffy is both so different and so similar to when she was last in Sunnydale. How the constant throughline of her character throughout both Buffy and Angel is really just "being weirdly obsessed about Buffy Summers all the time", but that obsession evolves from resenting the thought that she should be more like Buffy to trying to persuade or force Buffy to be more like her instead, then trying to do what she thinks Buffy would want her to (go to jail, come back to Sunnydale), and then finally to being forced against her wishes into taking over from Buffy as 'the' Slayer ("this was supposed to be my town!") and realizing how little she really wants that.

[twstinginthewind]

Ho ho ho!!

Hey @spadecentral !! I'm your @twstedsecretsanta Secret Santa this year! It's a pleasure to meet you, and I hope you enjoy this story, Have a very, very Merry Christmas!

You'll Be Doing All Right With Your Christmas of White,

But I'll Have an Ace-Deuce Christmas

Deuce Spade drummed his fingers against the edge of the worn wooden desk. It was strange, he thought; it was so much harder for him to focus in the quiet of the empty apartment than it was in the cheery, lively halls of Heartslabyul. And he had been looking forward to the peace and quiet of home so that he could catch up during the winter break, too. Deuce sighed, and looked back at the schoolbook in front of him. The dense blocks of text remained absolutely impenetrable, no matter how many times he tried to reread them. He groaned and pushed his hair back from his forehead. Deuce didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was bored. One hundred percent, grade-A, professional-grade, mega-sized, industrial-strength bored.

Deuce scooted the desk chair back, and spun it around so he could face the rest of the apartment. He and his mother had started to decorate the place for Christmas earlier that day, and they had even gotten as far as starting to assemble their artificial tree, but she had been called into work to cover an extra shift before they had had a chance to finish it. She had told Deuce, as he finished putting the pieces together, that he could decorate it while she was gone. He said he would as she stepped out the door. But Deuce took a long, hard look at the boxes of ornaments that they had collected over the years. Some handmade, some store-bought, some gifted; there were a lot, each with different fond memories attached. It was suddenly too much to handle. Overwhelmed, Deuce decided to try and study, instead.

He looked over his shoulder at the desk. Well. That plan hadn’t been going very well at all, had it? Deuce slowly spun the chair back towards the desk, guiltily reaching for the book.

*BUZZ!*

His phone rattled across the surface of the desk, pulsing with its not-so-silent ring. He picked it up before it could shake its way off the surface, and grinned. It was Ace, with a video call! He tapped the screen to accept it.

“Hello?”

Ace’s face was crowded close to his camera, and filled Deuce’s screen. “LOOSEY-DEUCEY, WHAT IS UP??” he crowed. Ace pulled back the camera a bit, revealing a fluffy red-and-white Santa hat perched on his head. “I’m finally being released from the Trappola Family Holiday Photo sesh! Mom ‘n Dad wanted to get one with us all around the tree this year. And like every other year, it takes forever and a WEEK to get something Mom’s happy with.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Whatchu doing?”

“Not much,” Deuce admitted, leaning back in the desk chair. “Studying, or at least trying to.” He shrugged. “It’s quiet here tonight, so I thought I’d try to keep up with classes.”

Ace made a sour face. “Studying. Ugh! You are aware we’re on break, right? Can’t keep up with classes that ain’t in session. Honor student wannabe.” He rolled his eyes, smirking. “Well, while you were hitting the unnecessary books, I was gettin’ our Christmas tree to look as cool as possible. Check this out.” Ace reached for the phone, and Deuce’s screen went from his friend’s face to a shot of a glittering, brightly lit tree. Ace’s voice went on. “I got to add some new stuff this year, so, look, look.” The camera got closer to the tree, focusing in on certain branches. “I made some ornaments out of mini playing cards, did a couple paper stars, and, I’m proud of this. Look!” The view panned over to a very familiar paint-splashed rose. “I used some of the pins from my dorm uniform, too. Temporarily, of course. There ain’t a bit of this tree that I didn’t make look cool!” The screen flipped back over to Ace, looking smug.

“It really is great,” Deuce mumbled. He guiltily side-eyed the tree he had abandoned in favor of staring blankly at his history textbook, then back at the phone. “You did good, Ace.”

“I did AWESOME, you mean.” Ace all but patted himself on the back, making Deuce chuckle. “Now show me yours!”

“Excuse me?” Deuce straightened up.

“Your tree, genius. I wanna see!!”

“Oh.” He stayed still for a moment. “It’s, uh. A work in progress.”

Ace blinked. “You’re not done with it yet?? Then why are you studying?”

Deuce leaned his chin into his hand, elbow propped on the desk. “I dunno. I guess it seemed like too much to do on my own?”

“So work on it with your mom, dude.”

“She’s at work. They called her in for a long shift at, like. The last minute.” Deuce shrugged. “We were gonna do it tonight, too. She kinda asked if I’d take care of it, but….” His voice trailed off.

“But?” Ace needled him.

“You know,” muttered Deuce.

“You need help with it.” Ace looked at his watch, and nodded. “Okay. When’s your ma gettin’ back?”

“Midnight, why?”

“It’s six-thirty now. I’m maybe twenty minutes from you, I think?”

Deuce shook his head. “Maybe? But—”

Ace cut him off. “But, nothin’. I’ll have my bro drop me off, we’ll bang this tree out before your mom gets back, easy-peasy. And this’ll get me outta the house so I don’t get roped into wrapping presents. It’s a win all around, Deuce.”

Deuce was going to protest, but he was suddenly struck with a realization. He actually wanted Ace to be there; he didn’t want to be alone. Besides, his mother had trusted him to decorate the tree. Surely she’d be all right with him getting a hand from a friend, right? “Yeah. You’re right, Ace. Let’s do this!!”

“Of course I’m right. Duh. HEY, BRO! You wanna get out for a bit? I need a ride to—” Ace abruptly cut off the call, leaving Deuce staring at his phone lock screen. A photo of him, smiling, with Ace’s arm slung over his shoulder stared back at him. The screen went blank, and he put the phone down.

Twenty minutes, huh? He stood up and shoved his books into his school bag. All right. He could at least get started with the lights before Ace got there. He rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie, dusted his hands off on his jeans, and picked up the box.

Twenty-six and a half minutes later, Deuce was only halfway through untangling a strand of twinkling lights when a loud pounding on his door made him jump. “The cavalry’s arrived!” shouted Ace, slightly muffled through the door. “Lemme in!”

“Gimme a second,” Deuce groaned. “On my way.” He bundled the twisting wire up and put it onto his couch, silently hoping it wouldn’t tangle itself up worse for the moment he had to put it down.

He opened the door, and Ace stood there, still decked out in his Santa hat and a bright red sweater. He lifted a pair of tall foam cups in greeting. “I made my bro go through the Casa de Caffeine drive-thru; they got this awesome caramel apple hot cocoa this year, and I figured it’d fuel us.” He grinned. “Now show me where I can work my magic.”

“It’s right inside, c’mon in!” Deuce took one of the proffered cups, and gestured inside. “Welcome to my place. It ain’t much, but—”

“It’s home, right?” Ace stepped inside, kicking off his clunky sneakers. He had on mismatched socks; one black one with a holly pattern, and one green-and-white plaid. Ace looked around, and sighed comfortably. “Nah, it’s cool here. It feels like your space, know what I mean? Friendly-like.”

Deuce shrugged, self-consciously. “It’s all right,” he muttered, but he started to smile despite himself. “Thanks for the cocoa, by the way. I was trying to work with the lights….” He lifted the tangle of green wire and tiny bulbs. “They’re kind of stubborn.”

“Like I said. Everything here’s just like you,” Ace scoffed, taking a sip from his cocoa. “Awright. Hand those off to me. I’ll get this out of the giant knot. Why don’t you start opening up the ornaments, so we can see what we’re workin’ with?”

“Har har.” Deuce gave the lights one last half-hearted tug before handing them over. “All right. I’ll line everything up on the desk, I guess. There’s a certain order that Mom puts some of them up, so I’ll keep those to one side.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “A certain order? Geez. Your mom ain’t like Riddle, is she? It Must Be This Way Due To the Rules?”

“No!” Deuce made a face. “Nah, Mom’s real easy-going with stuff like that, actually. She’s just… some of these are emotional, you know? I guess it’s easier to explain as we go.”

“Okay.” Ace had already made his way through half of the tangle, much to Deuce’s surprise. “I know a lot of the ones we use every year have got stories behind ‘em, too. Like the glass squirrel, or the teddy bear ones for me and my bro, or the pickle—”

“A pickle?” Deuce laughed. “Like. An actual brined cucumber? That’s weird.”

“It’s not weird!” Ace put his hands on his hips, lights dangling around his feet. “And it’s plastic, not an actual pickle. That’d be nasty. Whoever finishes the tree puts it on last thing Christmas Eve night, and then on Christmas morning, the first person who finds it gets a special extra present. Usually candy or somethin’. You never heard of that?”

“Nope. It’s new to me. Our last one’s the silver spider.” Deuce held up a little box, grinning. “The spider and then the tinsel ‘cobwebs’. Mom always says she brings good luck for the coming year, and makes sure that your tree is always beautiful, even when things seem bleak.”

“Never heard of that, but okay.” Ace triumphantly held up the untangled strand of lights. “Anyway, your genius buddy has solved this problem. You wanna do the grunt work and put ‘em on?”

“The grunt work, huh?” Deuce took the lights and started feeding the string between the branches.

“Yyyyyyyup.” Ace strolled over to the desk, and picked up a little glass teapot ornament. He turned it over in his hands. “One of us has to be the brawn, and I already called brains. This one’s really cute. Is it one of the special ones?”

Deuce craned his neck to see, then straightened up. “Hey, be careful with that! That was Grandpa’s!”

Ace carefully set the tiny teapot down and took a step back, his hands up in the air. “I wasn’t gonna mess with it, Deuce. Geez.” He pouted. “I guess it was more special than I thought.”

“Sorry.” Deuce picked up the ornament, red-faced. “I just get a little protective. We don’t have an awful lot to remember him by. This little teapot’s from when he was a kid, and he treasured it. So, we’re keeping it safe for him.” He looked up, his expression a little pinched. “I kinda get emotional, I guess. Stuff like this gets to me.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to do this alone?” Ace asked, softly. Deuce nodded, and Ace put his hands on his friend’s shoulders. “I got news for ya, bud. You’re not gonna have to worry about being alone, all right? Not as long as I’m around.” He paused, then winked. “But don’t let anyone know I said that. Trappolas don’t get soft like that, right? Now. Let’s get this tree looking great.”

Deuce sniffed, and smiled back at him. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” They started to put up the ornaments in relative silence. After a few minutes, Deuce spoke up. “Thanks, Ace. I’m glad you came.”

“Me, too.” Ace hung a bright blue butterfly on the tree, and stepped back to admire it. “It’s looking real good.”

“Yeah. We’re a good team.” Deuce placed a red rosebud next to it, and stood by his friend. “Merry Christmas, Ace.”

“Merry Christmas, Deuce.”

[midnightstar-90]

2-in-1

Masterlist | Taglist | Request

Dave Lizewski x Reader | Todd Haynes x Sister!Reader

Summary: You’re Todd’s popular little sister, and you like one of his not-so-popular friends. What happens when a couple of words leaves the two on non-speaking terms?

Warnings: Language! (“Is anyone gonna deal with the fact that Cap just said “language”?”) Get it? A superhero joke for a story based on a superhero.

A/N: It’s the Evan Peters version of Todd. I just love Evan, so that's how I imagined it. If you want to picture Augustus, you can. There are no rules here. Make it your own.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Todd and Marty were both standing around Dave as he grabbed his books for his next class. When he finished grabbing his Chemistry textbook, he slammed his locker door shut. They start walking to class, but not without a little chit-chat.

“So, you guys down for Atomic Comics this weekend?” Dave asked his two best friends. Ever since the boys met each other, they’ve always loved comics. They would be able to tell you the exact comic from one line if you asked.

“Yeah, I’m down,” Marty said with a shrug of his shoulders. Dave nodded at his response before both of them turned their head to Todd.

“My sister is grounded, so I have to make sure my sister doesn't invite anyone over this weekend. My parents are going out of town. If I went she would have to go,” Todd contemplated his options. You don’t like superheroes as much as Todd, so you’d probably complain. And if they go to Todd’s house, he’d be spending his time making sure you aren’t doing things you’re not supposed to.

“We-“ Dave couldn’t even finish his sentence before a herd of people crowded around the hallway. “What’s going on over there?” Marty asked in confusion. Todd and Dave looked towards the mob. Every day, since Y/N started school, kids would crowd around her like she was a celebrity. She could get things done at the speed of light. She once threw a party at the last minute, and it ended up in a magazine.

They stood, watching as the mob of people started to disperse. They moved a little closer to see Katie and her friend, but also Y/N. Y/N looked to be handing out a flyer. Todd quickly walked over and took the flyer from his sister’s hand.

“Y/N, you’re grounded. You know you can’t do anything when you're grounded,” Todd yelled at his little sister. Y/N rolled her eyes before they landed on Dave. She stared at Dave with admiration in her eyes.

She continued to look at Dave as she spoke, “Mom and Dad said no one in the house, but they said nothing about going out. Here, take a flyer. If you want to hang with the cool kids, you’ll go.”

She tried to walk off before Todd grabbed her arm, snatching all the flyers from her hands. “Call it off, Y/N. What happens when pictures end up online? If mom and dad see them, we’re both going down. So, how about you go to Atomic Comics with me and the boys, and I won’t tell mom about her favorite dress that mysteriously ripped,” Todd said with a smirk.

Y/N looked at her brother furiously. “Fine, but only if you let me sit by Dave,” she whispered to her brother, so her brother’s best friend doesn’t hear. Todd knew about his sister’s crush on Dave. He also knew that Dave has a crush on Katie, so he allowed it.

He nodded his head, making Y/N smile. She started walking to class, but as she passed Dave she gave him a wink. Dave looked at his best friend’s sister with a nervous chuckle and watched as she walked away.

“I guess I’m going to Atomic Comics with you guys,” Todd told his friends as he side hugged his friends around the shoulders. They all understood that his going would also include Y/N, so they nodded their heads and started walking.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N and Todd walked into Atomic Comics. Y/N was not happy. She could be throwing the party of the century, but she was now hanging out with nerds and her crush. They sat down at the table with Todd’s friends. Todd sat with Marty and Y/N, as promised, sat next to Dave. Y/N was welcomed to a Y/F/F/M (your favorite flavor milkshake) milkshake.

“I ordered you guys a milkshake. Uh, I didn’t know what flavor you like, Y/N, so I got you Y/F/F/M,” Dave said nervously. Y/N blushed, turning her head, so the others wouldn’t see her. He knew my favorite milkshake flavor. Eeeep!

Y/N took the gesture as a sign that Dave liked her. She silently put her hand on Dave’s thigh. Dave’s body tensed up at the feeling of the girl's hand on his thigh. No one had ever touched him there before. He looked at the girl to see her on her phone playing candy crush. He slowly moved her hand off of his leg, only for it to once again place itself back on his leg, only higher. This went on for a couple of minutes before Dave had enough.

“Y/N, can I talk to you real quick?” he said through his teeth. He wasn’t upset. No, he was uncomfortable. They got up and walked towards the comic section.

“What was that?” Dave asked the girl he considered his sister.

“What? My hand on your thigh?” He nodded at her question. “I thought you liked me. Wait, do you not like me?” Dave didn’t speak for a couple of seconds. Y/N’s eyes started to tear up, knowing she just embarrassed herself.

Dave didn’t know how to handle the situation. How do you tell your friend’s kid sister that you don’t like her the same way she does? The next thing Dave said really set Y/N off. “Everyone knows I like Katie,” Dave said nervously.

Y/N was furious. “Are you for real? That Bitch?! You know she thinks you’re gay? That’s why you guys have been hanging out together so much. Not because she likes you, but because she thinks your gay! I didn’t tell her that you lied, but now...” Y/N yelled, not finishing her sentence out of anger. She grabbed the attention of her brother and Marty.

Dave must have forgotten who he was talking to because he just kept saying the wrong stuff. “I know. Please don’t tell her. I’m trying to find a way to tell her that I’m not,” Dave begged.

“You’re a loser and a dick. You probably have a loser dick also,” Y/N said. She didn’t mean it, but she was angry. She walked over to the table and grabbed her milkshake. She walked back over to Dave. She looked him in the eye as she poured her milkshake all over his head. Some of it slid off his head and down his face and body. With that, she ran out of the Comic shop in tears.

A cold and sticky Dave walked back over to his friends after watching Y/N run out. “You really hurt her feelings. You know, she told me while we were having a spa day that she rejected all the boys that asked her at school because she would rather be with either you or Kickass. You were the more predictable choice, but I also knew you didn’t like her like that. This is my fault. I should have been the big brother and told her the truth,” Todd looked down.

“Wait, you have spa days with your sister?” Marty laughed.

“That’s all you got from that? You know what? My sister is crying her eyes out on the streets, which makes her vulnerable to bad guys, so I’m gonna catch up with her,” he said, getting up and leaving the comic shop. Dave felt sorry, but there is only one thing he can do.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that day, Todd tried to cheer Y/N up with a spa day. It helped a little but she was still heartbroken. He sat next to her on her bed and rubbed her back.

“Hey, you know that not everyone is going to like you back. You're gonna have crushes who reject you, just like today. But I want you to know that Dave does love you, just not the way you want him to,” Todd told his sister before leaving the room.

Y/N cried a little more before a knock was heard at her window. She walked over and moved her curtain to see Kickass at her window. She quickly opened it.

“Kickass? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, confused.

“Well, your friend Dave messaged me saying that you needed some cheering up. He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry. He didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Dave told Y/N.

“If Dave’s so sorry, why can’t he tell me himself. He totally hurt my feelings, and no offense, Kickass, but this meeting means nothing to me without Dave,” Y/N told the masked superhero.

Dave opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it. He thought about what he was gonna do next for at least two minutes. He walked towards the girl sitting on her bed.

“I think this will cheer you up,” Dave said, checking to make sure no one could see or hear anything. He reached for his mask, and slowly started to lift it up. Y/N looked up at the superhero, and she saw her brother’s best friend.

Her eyes widened in shock. “Dave, you’re Kick-“ Y/N got out before her mouth was covered. Dave had covered her mouth with his gloved hands to keep her from yelling his secret out to the world.

“I would really like it if your brother and the rest of the world didn’t know about this. But, I really am sorry. You mean a lot to me, and seeing you sad really hurt me. You're like a little sister to me. I’m sorry I can’t be what you want me to be, but I really do love you,” Dave told Y/N confidently.

Y/N nodded her head, still releasing the tears from her eyes. Dave took off his glove and started to wipe her tears away. When Dave finished, he pulled Y/N into a side hug and laid a kiss on top of her head.

They stayed like that for about a minute before Y/N spoke, “Dave, I know you don’t wanna be with me, but would you like to stay and hang out?”

Y/N looked at the boy with hopeful eyes. The ones that make you feel bad if you say no. The ones a lost dog gives you when you find it shaking, cold, and wet from the rain. Dave tried not to look, but it was impossible not to give in. He agreed to Y/N’s proposal. The girl's face lit up like Christmas.

She grabbed her headphones and started to make her way towards her brother’s room. One time, she went to borrow something from Todd but was met with the sight of her brother jerking off to porn.

Y/N opened the door to Todd’s room, to see Todd jamming out to music on his laptop. Y/N snuck in, quietly. She made sure not to bring attention to herself as she grabbed clothes from his drawer. She successfully completed her mission and made her way back to her room.

Meanwhile, in Y/N’s room, Dave walked around looking at Y/N’s things. He looked towards her desk to see a photo. He walked towards it to see a photo from 4 years ago held in a grey frame. It was a photo of Y/N, Todd, and Dave at Y/N’s 10th birthday party. Y/N had cake all over her face.

Dave remembered that day. Y/N and Todd’s dad bought two cakes. He was always one to pull pranks. They put the candles on the decoy cake, and they sang ‘Happy Birthday’. When the time was right, Todd and Dave snuck behind Y/N, picked up the cake, and pushed it into her face. Everyone laughed, even Y/N.

Y/N quietly walked back into the room with her brother’s clothes. She saw Dave looking at her 10th birthday picture. He seemed to be lost in thought, so when she cleared her throat to let him know she was there, he jumped like a cat next to a horn.

He stuttered trying to explain what was going on, but Y/N just threw the clothes at him and left the room. She sat outside the door as he got dressed. She heard a couple of clattering sounds but knew it was Dave being clumsy.

When he opened the door, she almost fell back. She picked herself off the floor and made her way into her room. She picked up her laptop, and relaxed on the bed, watching random movies on Netflix. And that’s how they fell asleep.

Around 4 am Dave woke up to see a snoring Y/N laying on his chest. Careful not to wake her up, he lifted her up and moved from his spot. He made sure he had all of the items he came in with and left, but not without a quick glance at Y/N. He smiled at the girl, and quietly closed her window.

I don't deserve her. She deserves better.

[taylorswiftandx]

Taylor Swift and Children

'Taylor Swift'

Mary’s Song (Oh My My My): I dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried, just two kids, you and I

Mary’s Song (Oh My My My): We’ll rock our babies on that very front porch, after all this time, you and I

'Fearless (Taylor's Version)'

You All Over Me: But I did, so I smiled, and I melted like a child

'Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)'

Never Grow Up: Take pictures in your mind of your childhood room

Long Live: If you have children some day, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name

'Red (Taylor's Version)'

All Too Well: You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin sized bed

22: This place is to crowded, too many cool kids

Starlight: Have ten kids and teach them how to dream

Begin Again: And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid

Run: So you laugh like a child and I'll sing like no one cares

The Very First Night: Not trying to fall in love but we did like children running

'1989 (Taylor’s Version)'

(no children)

'reputation'

(no children)

'Lover'

Cruel Summer: I’m drunk in the back of the car and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

London Boy: He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet

ME!: Hey, kids, spelling is fun!

'folklore'

Illicit Affairs: Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby"

Invisible String: Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart, now I send their babies presents

Peace: Give you my wild, give you a child

'evermore'

Tolerate It: I wait by the door like I'm just a kid

Right Where You Left Me: I'm sure that you got a wife out there, kids and Christmas

It's Time To Go: Or trying to stay for the kids when keeping it how it is will only break their hearts worse

'Midnights'

You’re On Your Own, Kid: You’re on your own, kid, you always have been

You’re On Your Own, Kid: You’re on your own, kid, yeah, you can face this

Vigilante Shit: Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Mastermind: No one wanted to play with me as a little kid

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve: And if I was a child, did it matter if you got to wash your hands?

'The Tortured Poets Department'

But Daddy I Love Him: “I’m having his baby,” No, I’m not, but you should see your faces

But Daddy I Love Him: Screaming, “But, daddy, I love him, I’m having his baby”

Fresh Out The Slammer: At the park where we used to sit on children’s swings wearing imaginary rings

Florida!!!: And my friends all smell like weed or little babies

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me: So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart: ‘Cause I’m a real tough kid, I can handle my shit

The Alchemy: That child’s play back in school is forgiven under my rule

loml: We embroidered the memories of the time I was away, stitching, “We were just kids, babe”

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus: So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an Internet starlet

I Hate It Here: I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child

thanK you aIMee: And then she wrote headlines in the local paper, laughing at each baby step I’d take

thanK you aIMee: And one day, your kid comes home singing a song that only us two is gonna know is about you, ‘cause

Peter: In closets like cedar, preserved from when we were just kids

Peter: Words from the mouths of babes

The Bolter: And I can confirm she made a curious child, ever reviled by everyone except her own father

Manuscript: Afterwards she only ate kids’ cereal and couldn’t sleep unless it was in her mother’s bed

Other Songs written by Taylor

Christmas Tree Farm: In the town, kids are dreaming of sleighs

Eyes Open: The tricky thing is yesterday we were just children

I Heart ?: But I can’t believe you made me sit at home, cry like a baby

Official Alternate Releases

Anti-Hero (feat. Bleachers): Too hurt to hang out, talking shit about your famous baby

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart (Clean Version): ‘Cause I’m a real tough kid, I can handle it

[carolmaximoffs]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAIT OMFG i can’t believe so many of the coolest ppl in my life that i know are aquas. ily you’re NINETEEN that’s wild!! you know i love a good roommates or friends w benefits fic gimme gimme gimme 😗💜

a/n: THIS IS SO LATE AGH...here is your long overdue wanda x reader roommates fic, my love! so sorry for the wait, but thank you for your sweet words and your patience <3 @subtlebucky

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

warnings: none really? maybe a curse. references to drinking, partying. jealous! reader. apologies to anyone named jillian, beck, or yasmine. sharing a bed, but not in THAT way. 

WHEN YOU WAKE UP, you smell coffee already brewing. You stretch leisurely as you pad into the main part of your shared apartment, faux-flirtatious smile already gracing your lips.

“Smells good, baby!” You call. The laughter dissipates from your body as you pause in the kitchen doorway. Wanda is indeed sipping coffee in the kitchen, but is also standing between the legs of a tall, rather buff girl you’ve never seen before who’s perched comfortably on your island. “Oh.”

"Jill, this is my roommate, Y/N," Wanda says, perfectly at ease. You wonder if your eye really does twitch at the sight of Wanda's hand on Jill's thigh, but you pray it's just your imagination.

“Hi, uh, I didn’t - we’re not - hi.” Your face burns as you duck past them, reaching up into the cabinet for your mug before realizing it’s missing. You whirl around, about to ask Wanda, when you see it. And Wanda must realize it the same time you do, because she gives you this tight smile and wide eyes. Jill sips idly from your favorite cup, the one with the funny handle and your initial in rainbow gradient. Pietro, Wanda’s brother, had gifted it to you a few Christmas’s back - you know he’d have stopped Jillian from using it. Instead, you fill the most boring mug you and Wanda own - black, with a white outline of Sokovia in a red heart - and send your roommate a sour look. “I’ll just...”

You jerk your head towards the bedrooms, and stalk off. Maybe out of embarrassment, but mostly out of stubbornness, you pretend not to hear Wanda apologizing and making excuses on your behalf as you leave.

.......

Two weeks later, just when things are returning to normal, it happens again.

Well, more or less. It’s significantly darker out now, and this time you’re putting leftover Chinese food in the fridge when the door bursts open. Wanda all but falls into your apartment, a sharp-nosed girl with a deep violet buzzcut hot on her heels. Space Army Cadet and your best friend are hand in hand, the latter barely tossing you a glance as she drags her guest down the hall. And yeah, you’ve seen Wanda bring people home before - even brought a handful of people home yourself. Hell, one of you two’s closest friends was an ex of hers; oddball physics major, Vis, had been Wanda’s lover for the notable first three years of college.

 Lately, though, you’d noticed this...pit in your stomach, carved a little deeper with each new bedmate. Every time you shook it off - it wasn’t any of your business what Wanda did in her free time. Was it because they were women? You catch yourself wondering, but no - you’d never had an issue with that, why would you start now? Shutting the fridge, you shuffle back to your room, turning your TV up to drown out anything from Wanda’s room next door.

The next morning, the eccentric friend is nowhere to be found, but you did find there was a severe lack of alcohol in your coffee as Wanda cheerily filled you in. Buzzcut’s name was Yasmine, she was in Wanda’s European lit. course, and they’d gone out for drinks to celebrate Yasmine nearing the acquirement of her masters. You stare into your cup and hum at all the appropriate points, choosing not to point out that it was only November and nowhere near graduating season. Maybe Yasmine was on the fast track - Wanda always did like the smart ones. 

You become so absorbed in thought you don’t notice at first that your housemate has stopped chittering away. When you look up, it’s to a pouty frown. You shift in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “What?”

“Are you...okay?” Wanda’s frown deepens, brows furrowed as she brushes a stray lock of auburn from her face and folds her arms over her chest. “We...You’ve been a little distant lately, I guess.” 

“I’m fine,” You say breezily, rising to your feet to dump the dregs of your coffee in the sink. Some irritating heartstring twangs at your tone - you hate brushing Wanda off, but what are you supposed to say? Hey, can you stop bringing girls home? I think I’ve caught homophobia. You repress a shudder at the mere thought as you move to sweep past her and get ready for your first class, but a small hand curls around your bicep.

“Just...don’t be a stranger, okay, kedvesem?” Darling. Swallowing the lump in your throat, feeling curiously parched, you can only nod. Wanda lets go, but you can feel her fingerprints burning like a brand even when you’re lying in bed that night.

.....

The holidays go off more or less without a hitch; there’s a very scary hiccup shortly before Christmas when you come home to find Wanda curled into Vision’s side on the couch, the pair of them sharing a blanket. But Wanda looks...as if she’s been crying? Love Actually is playing, Wanda’s go to Christmas comfort movie, and Vision is texting someone called ‘Peter M.’ with an alarming number of heart emojis, so you continue onward. 

Your subconscious must be looking out for you otherwise, because it’s not until New Year’s that you see Wanda with a mystery lover. Actually, you don’t see much of Wanda at all outside of Christmas, and even when you do, it’s always just the two of you at home. Of course, because of this, she insists on dragging you out for a New Year’s party. When her twin, Pietro, gangs up on you via Facetime, you give up arguing and steal a shimmery black slip from Wanda’s closet before flipping them the bird. 

Pietro arrives around 10 to pick the pair of you up, obnoxiously laying on the horn outside of your apartment building. Wanda trips several times as she tries to shove on her other heel and put lipstick on at the same time. Making it out the door is a whole other ordeal - after a short spat about Wanda needing a jacket, an awkward moment when the elevator doors open on some neighbors practicing for midnight, and finding Pietro just about to buzz in to get you, you and Wanda are sliding into the backseat of Pietro’s obnoxiously cramped sports car.

“Ladies, your prince, or princess, awaits!” Pietro announces grandly as you pull up to a shabby loft just a few blocks away. You can hear the music from the street, sighing inwardly as you force yourself to get out of the car. Wanda smooths out her flowy black pants - you keep your eyes trained politely above her shoulders to ignore the fitted, maroon sequined top with the plunging V-neck she’s paired with them. 

“I’m actually meeting someone here,” She says casually to her brother as the three of you make your way in. Pietro waves her off with well-wishes, but throws you a questioning glance. All he gets however is a shrug in reply, this is certainly news to you. He accompanies you to the makeshift bar where you fill a cup with copious amounts of liquor. It usually wasn’t your vice, but the strobe lights alone could be cause to drink. You made a mental note to ask whose idea this party even was in the first place. when you turn around, though, Pietro, too, has slipped off into the crowd.

So you do what one is supposed to do at sweaty, too-loud functions such as this one - push yourself from your comfort zone, get comfortably tipsy while you wedge yourself into the mass of bodies and move with strangers. As mentioned, liquor and strangers have never been favorite pastimes of yours, so once you finish off your second drink (maybe third - you deserved it), you set out searching for Wanda. Her glittery form is tucked into a corner with a small group you don’t recognize, but you definitely note that she’s in the lap of a tall, dark, and handsome type. She spots you before you can get to her, making excited grabby hands as you get closer. 

“Y/N!” The bubbly young woman squeals over the music. She leans forward to be heard better, and you gulp. “This is Beck! And Jade, and Marcie, and you remember Yasmine!” 

You offer only a wave and tight smiles as you, too, lean in further. “I’m gonna get an Uber!”

“What?” Wanda pouts dramatically, Beck snaking an arm around her waist to steady her as she jolts back in disappointment. “It’s not even midnight yet!”

“No, I know, I’m just not really feeling it, I guess!” Yasmine leads over to whisper something to Jade; it’s the furthest thing from your mind as Wanda reaches out to squeeze your hands understandingly. 

“I’ll see you later! Kisses!” You repeat the word weakly before shoving once more through the mass. The sidewalk and cool bite of the outdoors is a welcome respite - your driver doesn’t speak all the way to your apartment, and you give them 5 stars for it. After a cold, quick shower, you curl up in your fuzziest bathrobe with a cup of coffee and flick through Netflix. You know when midnight rolls around when the neighbors upstairs, hosting a party of their own, cheer and shout to each other. It can’t be 20 minutes later that your door is met with a tentative knock.

On the other side is Vision in the most disarray you’ve seen him in - he’s in pajamas, for Pete’s sake, hair and glasses askew over a chunky knit sweater. He’s supporting an equally-bleary but much more drunk Wanda, and passes her to you with a wrinkled nose.

“Y/N!” She crows, dissolving into giggles as you shushed her. “I wondered where you went.” 

“I told you I was coming home, bubs,” You mutter, hugging her back briefly before you notice Vision is still standing in your entryway. “Hey, how about you go get changed, and then I’ll make you some eggs?”

Wanda agrees, talking animatedly even as she walks away. You look back at Vision, smiling wearily. “Thanks for bringing her home safe, Vis. Did you want a cup of coffee, or...?”

“No, thank you,” Vision quips, polite as ever as he tugs his sweater down over his hands. He jerks his dimpled chin the direction Wanda had disappeared in. “Take care of her, please.”

“Of course,” You reply, instantly, brows furrowing. He nods briskly before turning to leave. “Thank you again.”

“Of course. Goodnight.” He’s almost to the elevators when you call a ‘Happy New Year’ after him, and that earns you a smile. “Happy New Year to you as well, Y/N.”

Back inside, you find Wanda spread eagle on her bed in mismatched socks, an old college hoodie, and the same underwear you’re pretty sure she wore to go out tonight. You poke her heel and she makes a frankly unhuman gurgle into the duvet. “How much did you have?”

“Nah a lah,” Is her muffled reply. “We’on dwink anymo’.” 

You realize she’s right, though you figured she was at least taking some of those dates to bars. Maybe not, though - Wanda was always a romantic. You push the mere though away and tug at the arm closest to you. “Yeah, I know. You’ll feel better if you eat something, though.” 

Her protesting grunts are less effective than when she kicks out blindly, narrowly avoiding your hip, and you huff. “Fine, I’ll bring the food to you.”  You make to leave, but she’s captured your wrist now. Wanda turns her head to make powerful puppy eyes at you. “Stay. Sleepy.” 

“I...yeah. Okay.” You were still a little tipsy in your own right - neither of you were college kids anymore, after all. Wanda’s smile was blinding as the pair of you made your way under her numerous layers of blankets. When she turned the lamp off, you wondered if she could hear your heart thundering in the dark.

“Y/N?” She whispers, just when you think she’s fallen asleep. 

“Yes, Wanda?” 

“I love you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, brushing it off as dreaming.

--------

Midday, you’re roused by someone laying across your stomach and shaking you awake. It’s Wanda, long lashes fluttering prettily as she rests her chin on folded elbows. You scrub sleep from your eyes as you croak, “Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, Y/N.” She says your name with purpose - sort of always has, you realize. You’re running over last night in your head, and like a mind reader, Wanda answers your every question. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Still love you.” Wanda murmurs. You meet her gaze - completely clear, if not a little glazed over with absolute adoration. She pushes up a little, lips hovering over yours. They brush just barely when you speak, sparking like live wires. 

“I love you, too,” You breathe, and finally, finally, she kisses you. 

Things make so, so much more sense then.

[amillionmillionvoices]

ted lasso fic. ted/rebecca. + henry, keeley. t (for language). 1.8k. established relatiohnship. written for @struckbyfuckinglightning​‘s Flinktober - not sure how many of these I’ll get around to, but I love the idea!! this is day one: winning a teddy bear for the other

--

you pick a place, that’s where i’ll be (i)

It isn’t that Henry doesn’t like her.

She knows that.

Knows that he’s still processing his dad’s move, his parents’ divorce, his mom’s new partner as well as his dad’s. It’s a lot for any 10 year old to handle—a lot for any adult, too, Rebecca thinks—and she’s been trying to toe the line between being friendly and warm and giving Henry the space he needs to come to terms with the fact that his parents aren’t getting back together and—in his mind, probably—she’s part of the reason why.

Ted, thankfully, had broken the news to Henry months ago, despite wanting to wait to do it in person. Rebecca hadn’t protested, not really, but had pointed out that giving him some time may not be such a bad thing, rather than springing it on him over his summer vacation. Ted had thought about it and talked to Michelle and ultimately agreed—Henry had taken it well, asked a few polite questions in the moment, but he hasn’t said a word since. He doesn’t ask to say hello over FaceTime, even when it’s clear Ted’s at her place; he asks after Beard and Jamie and even Keeley, but never about her, despite the fact that Ted is open about what he’s been up to and who with, easily spiraling into stories about their lazy day in Regent’s Park or their impromptu weekend in Cornwall.

Henry’s never rude, never outright dismissive, but as he chatters on about school and sports, his eyes remain firmly on Ted, and he doesn’t once look back at Rebecca, trailing behind them through the crowded fair. She doesn’t want to interfere—knows that Henry loves and needs the time with his father as much as Ted does with his son. She doesn’t want to be a burden or an interruption; but she also fears being too standoffish, too aloof, of appearing uninterested in Henry’s life. Kids notice, she knows, and she’s done her best to treat him kindly and ask questions, even when she’s met with one word answers and shrugs.

It’s why she agreed to come out in the first place—Ted assuring her that a day spent together doing something Henry loves is just what they need—but so far, Henry has barely spared her a glance, dragging his dad from ride to ride, seeming pleased when Rebecca stays on the ground.

She knows, she knows he’s a boy, and he’s probably confused and a bit scared, and she’s trying not to let it get to her. Trying not to make it about her or let her insecurities ruin their day.

Ted, for his part, keeps looking back, keeps trying to involve them in conversation—“Hey, bud, did you tell Rebecca about your science fair project?” and “You know that song you like from The Lion King? Rebecca knows the guy who wrote it! She gave up a Christmas Eve party with Sir Elton himself to hang out with your old dad.”

Henry nods and smiles but doesn’t say much, and after a few hours of following them around the amusement park, Rebecca isn’t sure her heart can take another dismissal.

It’s too soon for this, too much, for both of them, she thinks, because he needs to be with his father, needs to know his dad isn’t going to supplant him with an uptight Brit who can’t tell a barbecue from a cookout; at the same time, she can feel the fear creeping up her spine, that Ted will realize how ill-suited they are. That Henry will never warm to her and Ted will be forced to choose and she would never, ever let him make that choice so she’d let him go, and the mere thought of it, while standing in line for a teacup ride, is enough to wind her.

So she begs off—cites a bit of heat fatigue and tells them she’s going to find someplace cool to sit down—that they can join her after, or she’ll catch up with them, either way.

Ted watches her carefully, his voice soothing at the same time it makes her eyes sting.

“You sure you’re alright?”

continued on ao3

[ptergwen]

last christmas

w/c: 2.0k

warnings: a few descriptions of dizziness

summary: someone might be able to get you back into the holiday spirit

a/n: hi hi hi i’m really excited about this :,) i’ve had the idea for a while and i like where it’s going! it’s based it off of the movie last christmas and this is only part one, so if it feels a little slow that’s why AND on that note i hope you enjoy

━━━ *:･。.

“you’re late,” harry comments as the coat room door bursts open. he’s not wrong, but he doesn’t have to announce it. you slip behind the counter while tying up your apron. “only ten minutes. besides, we’re never busy this early.” he presses his lips together and grabs a large cup.

that’s the face he makes whenever you say or do something stupid. you’ve learned a lot about harry in your year of working together. he’s a pretty laidback guy. funny, too. you’d consider him a friend and not just your coworker. the only time he isn’t chill is when your coffee shop has what you like to call its rush hour.

it’s in a pretty prominent area in london, and it gets packed every afternoon. people like to pop in for a muffin or some tea on their lunch break. with it being christmas time and all, the shop is way more chaotic than usual. the seasonal flavors clearly draw a crowd. you take that as a compliment since you came up with a few of them.

the point is, harry can get stressed and pretty mean. you’re afraid he’ll explode if you ask him a question sometimes. he turns super red. but, he also knows more than you do. he’s had to fix countless machines you’ve almost broken. you two make an interesting team. it’s just you and harry who work mornings.

your mouth drops open when you see the line of people squished into the shop. “oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. harry hears it and hums smugly. “rush hour came early. get out there.” you quickly take your spot at the register. a man with a fuzzy red sweater and judgy look steps up. “hi, sorry for the wait. what can i get started for you?”

the rest of your morning is exactly the same. you deal with the crabby customers, harry makes the drinks. it gets better once your other coworkers clock in for the day. orders get done faster, and you have someone to joke around with from time to time.

you and harry eventually switch because he’s bored of making hot chocolates. you’re in charge of drinks while he rings people up now. it’s not too bad at first. all you have to do is dump some mixes into water and call names. then, everyone starts shouting at you. the drinks gets harder, you keep messing up, and customers aren’t happy.

harry is about to tell you off when he sees you stumble. he rushes to your side before you hit the ground. you grab his arm with an apologetic smile. “thanks.” “is it...” you nod, not wanting him to finish his sentence.

he’s your only coworker you told about your accident. it happened last year, almost a full one to date. you got this job a few months after. harry has always been understanding of it all, and he accommodates you however he can. you’re grateful to have his support.

“i’m just a little lightheaded. i’ll be fine,” you wave him off. he clicks his tongue. “you can’t stand if i let go of you.” you’d try to prove him wrong, but you don’t feel like falling on your face in front of all these people. “go take your break, y/n,” harry says softer this time. you give in, letting him take you to the coat room.

━ ❆

it’s finally the end of the day. your shift ended fine, and now you’re walking out with harry. you’re laughing at something he said inside. you pull your coat up around your face, smiling as you say your goodbyes. harry looks off to the car you assume is his before returning it. he waits until you’re out of sight to get into the passenger seat.

“who was that?” tom asks before harry can even shut his door. “y/n. we work together,” harry replies casually and buckles his seatbelt. the car engine is the only thing holding off silence. he raises an eyebrow at his brother.

“why do you ask?” “dunno. looks like you’re friends,” tom says quietly, pulling out of the spot he parked in. “you haven’t mentioned her.” “i have. you’re never home when i do,” he deadpans. tom drums his fingers on the steering wheel as they stop at a light.

there’s that void begging to be filled again. harry gives him a small smile. “thanks for picking me up, by the way. you’re cheaper than uber.” “does that mean i’m getting paid?” tom looks over at him. “joking. anytime, bro.”

harry can tell he’s waiting to bring you up again. all he did was look at you, and he’s falling. he’s never been subtle about his crushes. harry knows the two of you would get on well, but he’s not sure if you can handle a relationship right now. this year hasn’t been easy for you. you should be focusing on your health, not his tool of a brother.

at the same time, you could use some cheering up. you haven’t sang along to one christmas song playing at the shop. tom gets so into christmas every year, so maybe some of his festivity could rub off on you. it’s possible to work on two things at once, right? you’ll be happy and healthy for the new year. that’s all harry wants for you.

he wouldn’t mind the same for tom, either.

“she’s in all day tomorrow,” harry sighs. tom scrunches his face up in the side mirror. “who is?” “y/n, div. i knew you were going to ask.” there’s no denying that one. “right. i’ll stop in for a drink.”

he smiles about it the whole way home.

━ ❆

the next day is just like the last one. harry seems more on edge than usual, but you don’t know what that’s about. he does let you stay on register today so the chances of you passing out are lower. that all changes when your next customer walks in. you recognize him immediately, even with a scarf covering half his face.

what the hell is tom holland doing in your café? he pulls his scarf down and walks up to place an order. you sort of forget how to act. “you... you’re...” you stammer, eyes wide on him. smiling, he presses a finger to his lips. all he wants is a coffee, and you’re about to get him mobbed. you raise your hands in defense and focus on the register.

“sorry. can i get you anything?” you try again, lowering your voice. he’s still smiling. “sure, thanks. i’ll try an iced peppermint mocha.” a smile takes over your own face. “cool, i suggested that one.” you punch it into the register, keeping your eyes on tom. “i’ll bet it’s good, then. i trust your judgement.” he sounds genuine but teasing at the same time.

“hey, harry.” tom waves at him while he makes something in the blender. harry unenthusiastically waves back before getting to work again. you turn to harry with your eyebrows knitted together. “you know each other?” “really well. we’re brothers,” tom replies, your eyebrows now raised to the top of your head.

“what? how come you never told me?” you almost yell at harry. he awkwardly dumps the contents of the blender into a cup. “it never came up.” “you don’t talk about me, baby bro?” tom jokes, getting his card out. you give harry one more look before turning back to him. “oh, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” you dismiss him.

“he’s a multimillionaire, y/n. i think he’ll be fine,” harry chimes in. “family discount,” you decide. tom chuckles and shoves his wallet back into his pocket. “you’re a funny one. can i make it up to you somehow?” his eyes lock with yours. you feel fluttery, like your heart is going to jump out of your chest. there could be a few reasons for that.

“um, can i get your autograph?” you murmur out. “easy. do you have something to write with?” he watches you scramble to get a piece of paper. you pull a pen from behind the counter and hand them both to him. a line is starting to form, but you can’t even pretend to care. there are more important things going on.

harry starts making tom’s drink while he signs the paper. he leans on the counter, his tongue poking out. he’s so sweet for doing this. your alarm goes off before you can tell him that. you quickly shut it and peek over the register to see. harry comes up to you.

“isn’t that for your medication? you should probably go take it,” he says so only you hear. you shrug a shoulder. “i set it a few minutes early. i’ll be fine.”

“here we go.” tom grins and hands you the paper, then the pen. you put it down with another smile before looking over his signature. you’re confused when you don’t see one. instead, he wrote down a bunch of numbers.

it can’t be...

“it’s my number,” tom explains, glancing over at harry for a second. he scoffs and puts the lid on his drink. “i figured you’d like it more than my terrible cursive.”

your whole body feels hot. whether it’s from putting off your meds or getting hit on by tom holland, you’re not sure. you wouldn’t mind the latter, though. it’s the safer of the two. in all seriousness, the fact that he has any sort of interest in you is pretty insane.

“wow, for real? thank you.” you look at the piece of paper in your hands, then at tom. “does this mean i can text you?” he’s practically beaming at you. “or call.” “tom,” harry calls from the pickup counter. he rolls his eyes for good measure. “i guess your drink is ready,” you laugh out. tom adjusts his scarf again.

“i guess it is. i’ll talk to you later?” you hold up the piece of paper. “that’s what this is for.” he breathes out a laugh and turns to go. you’re about to call up the next customer, but he looks back at you. you shake your head. it’s going to be impossible getting through what’s left of your shift. “enjoy.” tom nods confidently. “i will.”

━ ❆

the first thing you do once you get home is call tom. your roommate is out with friends, so you’re spread out on the couch. all the lights are off to help the headache you got. with your luck, you’ll wake up with a migraine. you’ve become too familiar with nursing those. it’s given considering everything that happened.

tom picks up on the third ring. you hold your phone to your ear and sit up. “hello?” he asks sternly. you cringe at yourself for not texting him who you are first. “hi, it’s y/n. i probably should’ve texted.” his tone softens. “no, you’re fine. i was waiting for you to call.”

“were you really?” you lay your head back on the arm of the couch. he hums proudly. “tom holland was waiting for me to call him?” “he was.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “he really enjoyed your conversation earlier.” sighing, you look at your reflection in the tv. “i did, too. i don’t think harry could say the same.”

“he hates having me around. i’m embarrassing, apparently,” tom laughs at his brother’s behavior. you press your lips into a pout. “is that why i’ve never heard about you?” “probably,” he confirms. it seemed weird that he wouldn’t want to tell the world his brother is spider-man. then again, harry isn’t like that.

“that’s nice, though. it’s like i’m the same me before the movies,” tom lightens the mood. “not that i know you, but i feel like you are,” you agree with a small smile. he’s grinning at his phone. “speaking of not knowing me, when are you free?” he smoothly transitions to the asking you out part. you were hoping you’d get there.

“saturday. why?” “i was wondering if you’d want to go out with me.” you hold the phone away from your face and silently squeal. tom didn’t need to witness that. “that would be fun, yeah.” “anywhere special you want to go?” he asks. he’s hoping there isn’t because he already has a place in mind. you actually don’t.

“surprise me.”

-

i made a new taglist form, so fill it out if you want!! the link is in my bio

[fanficsandthings]

Through the Years

A George Weasley Fanfiction 

A George Weasley x Slytherin reader story. Each chapter shares events in one year of George and reader's life together, starting in their first year of Hogwarts.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter 1: The Journey to Hogwarts

It had been a warm, sunny day when you heard an owl screech outside. You watched from the window as it swooped in by your front door, carrying a small letter in its talons. The brown tawny owl sat on the sidewalk for just a second before it hurried away again. You watched it disappear into the distant blue sky. As you walked to the front door you could see that your father was clutching the letter to his chest. It took him a good five minutes of staring at it before he handed it to you. It was your Hogwarts letter. You had been waiting all year to receive it, and your father was overjoyed now that you had. 

You weren’t exactly sure why he was so happy, but you caught him almost sobbing into your mother’s shoulder later that night when they thought you had gone to sleep. You thought for a moment that he was mad about your letter, but after you listened to them speak for a minute you realized that they were happy tears. You had grown up around magic your whole life. Your uncle and your grandparents were all brilliant wizards. Your mother was a muggle, sure, but that didn’t make you think that you wouldn’t get into Hogwarts. You didn’t show any magical ability until you were almost 10, but that fact never really crossed your mind growing up. You had gotten mad at your father one day, for something you couldn’t even remember now, but you were 9, and all that childlike anger boiled up inside you. It burned hotter and hotter until your face was burning red, and then the teacup that your father had on his side table exploded, sending scalding hot liquid onto the carpet and armchair. You expected him to be mad with you, furious even, but instead he had calmly asked if you caused that to happen. You said yes and then tried to quickly explain how you didn’t mean it, but you were cut off. You were being enveloped in a crushing hug and your dad picking you up and spinning and laughing. Laughing? Why was he laughing? You had just ruined his favorite teacup and spilled tea all over the floor. He set you down and took you by the shoulders. “I’m so proud of you.” You looked over at the mess you created, and he waved it off. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll clean it up. You’ve got magic!” He stood up and quickly ran into the next room, searching for your mother. You could hear him laughing down the hallway. “She’s a witch! I can’t believe she’s actually a witch!” Just over a year later, when your letter came, he was as overjoyed as he was the day with the tea. The next day you set out to London to buy all of your supplies. Your mother had stayed at home, but you and your father met up with your uncle in Diagon Alley. He and your father both worked at the Ministry together. He worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, while your father worked in close contact with the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. He worked mainly in Muggle Studies, helping the Ministry to learn more about the average muggle. You were told once that it was one of the lowest jobs you could get at the Ministry, but your father seemed to enjoy it. It was how he had met your mother after all. You learned then to do your own research on matters, instead of just taking other people’s opinions as your own.   Once you had gotten all your supplies from Diagon Alley, you separated from your uncle to head back out into London. You were admiring your new wand, and the fine intricacies on it, when your father stopped to say hello to someone. The man he stopped was an odd looking fellow, with bright red hair sticking up from the top of his head. His clothed screamed pure-blood wizard to you, as they matched almost perfectly with what your grandparents wore; an old robe and a handmade vest. Your father introduced you to the man in front of him as Arthur Weasley, a coworker of his. You waved at him shyly before going back to studying your wand; you wanted to know every fine detail of it. You looked it up and down, from end to tip, ran your fingers over the wood to feel the texture of it. You were about to put it up to your mouth to see what it tasted like when another shock of red hair appeared in your peripheral vision. You looked up, tongue hanging slightly out of your mouth, wand inches from it. Two boys had appeared at Arthur’s side. They looked exactly the same and you had to blink a couple times to make sure you weren’t seeing double. Arthur apparently had twin sons. They were both wearing sweaters that looked almost similar to the ones your grandmother made you, but theirs had letters on them in bright gold yarn. An “F” and a “G.” “These are my boys, Fred and George,” Arthur introduced them. “Well, two of my boys. The others stayed at home for this trip. The twins are enough to handle by myself.” They both turned to look at you. You quickly brought your tongue back into your mouth and dropped your wand to the side. Before they could get a word out to you, their father said goodbye to yours and grabbed them both by their sweaters to push them past you. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” your dad called as Arthur walked away. He turned to you. “Those boys are in the same year as you. Maybe you’ll end up in the same house and can become friends.” You turned to look at the way they went. You could hardly see through the crowd and were just barely able to spot the redheaded father. Only one of the twins appeared to be with Arthur, and for a second you were concerned that the other had gotten lost in the crowd. Suddenly, a face appeared in front of yours. “Fred tied your shoelaces together while you were staring at your wand,” was all he said before he ducked back into the crowd. He headed back towards his father, who was now searching for him, calling out his name. It seemed that George was the nicer of the two twins. You looked down at your feet, and sure enough, they were tied together. One step and you would’ve been face first into the cobblestone. Why the one felt it necessary to come all the way back here just to tell you his brother was a bit of a jerk, you weren’t sure, but you appreciated it. Maybe you could be friends with at least George. Fred, you weren’t so sure about. You looked up at your father to see if he had anything to say, but he was staring at a map of London he had taken out of his pocket. He hadn’t seemed to notice the boy come back at all. ------------------------- September 1st, 1989 snuck up on you faster than you had ever expected it. You spent the last few days of your summer holiday with your muggle friends, as you knew you wouldn’t see them again until at least Christmas. It was hard to say goodbye to them, but at the same time you couldn’t be more excited to make friends who were actually magical like you were. Your father had an emergency at work, so it was your uncle who took you to King’s Cross that day in London. The station was busy and full of Muggles, but it was easy for him to find the correct platform, as he had been there multiple times before. You stopped for a moment to watch a few families make their way through the wall and onto the platform. Still a little bit nervous about using magic to this caliber, you had to be encouraged by your uncle to go through the wall. He took your trolley from you and stood you perfectly center facing the brick. “It’s really quite simple,” he said, bending down to your level. He pointed at the stones in front of you. “Just run straight at it. It won’t hurt you. I’ll take care of your luggage.” You nodded your head and took in a deep breath. Letting out the breath, you started with a jog, picking up the pace as you neared the wall. Your eyes closed when you were within inches of the wall, preparing for the impact. When no impact came, you opened your eyes to see the steam engine in front of you. Your feet stopped moving immediately. You turned around, a big smile on your face, to see your uncle enter behind you. “Welcome to the Hogwarts Express.” He bent down in front of you again to be at your eye level. “Remember, your father is very proud of you. He’s absolutely gutted that he can’t be here, but he wanted me to give you this.” He reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a disposable camera. One like what your mother would use when you went on holiday. “He wants you to use this to create memories and to remember the important ones. You can get it developed when you come home for Christmas.” You nodded at him in understanding. “Now, most of the pure-blood students probably won’t know what this is, so don’t let them get you down for using Muggle technology.” “There’s nothing wrong with Muggle technology,” you told him, matter of factly. “Some of it’s even cooler than magic.” He chuckled slightly at that. “I know, I know. But some wizards think everything made by Muggles is rubbish. Just ignore them.” “Or I could show them how cool it really is,” you said, reaching out for the camera. “Yeah, or you could do that.” He stood up in front of you. “Before I give this to you, I need a picture. Smile.” You stood in front of the train engine with the goofiest of grins on your face. Your uncle snapped the picture quickly and then handed you the camera. “Remember there’s only 26 pictures left on that,” he quickly informed you. “If you make a friend who has an owl, you can always write your mum to send you another one if you run out.” “Will do. Thank you.” You reached towards him and gave him a quick, tight hug. The clock on the wall behind him read 10:55. “I gotta go! Thank you again!” You ran off towards the train as he shouted his goodbye back at you. -------------------------- Finding a compartment to sit in was relatively hard, as they were mostly filled with upperclassmen. Towards the back of the train you eventually found a compartment with two familiar boys in it. They sat on opposite seats near the window, tossing something between the two of them. You knocked on the glass as you slid the door open. “Do you mind if I sit here?” “You sure about that?” one of them asked. “Percy didn’t warn you about us?” “I don’t know who this Percy is,” you told them, stepping into the compartment. “Why would he be warning people about you.” You sat down next to the twin who had on a blue sweater. The other one was wearing brown. “Percy’s our older brother. A third year,” Blue Sweater told you. “He’s been telling people that we’ll prank them if they share a compartment with us,” Brown Sweater said. They continued to toss the small object between the two of them. “Well one of you has already tried to prank me,” you said, looking between the two of them. “But the other one told me about it. So I know I can trust at least one of you.” Brown Sweater stopped suddenly, the small object in his hand. “You told her!?” He tossed the object at his brother, who threw his hands over his face in defense. The object bounced off his forearm, and you caught it as it headed your way. It seemed to be just a small rubber ball. The one who you now assumed was Fred continued yelling at his brother. “It’s not much of a prank if you tell them about it before it happens! I don’t know how I can even call you my brother anymore.” He folded his arms and pouted as he looked out the window at the passing hills. “Fred, stop being so dramatic,” George said. “She was a stranger. And our dads work together.” “You’re lying,” Fred said, now looking at George. “You told her because you think she’s cute.” Now both you and George froze. You could feel the tips of your ears burning hot. You squeezed the ball tightly in your hand as a sort of distraction from this conversation. George mumbled out some sort of defense, but you didn’t hear it. You were too focused on your hand, which now held some sort of slimy black goo. The ball had dissolved when you squeezed it hard enough. “You tricky little gremlins,” you mumbled, caused them to stop their bickering to look at you. “No wonder no one wanted to sit with you.” You stood up, the goo dripped off your hand and onto the carpet. You reached for the door with your good hand. “Hey, we didn’t mean to get you with that, we’re sorry,” George said. You could hear the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah, you’re the one who caught the ball,” Fred said. You turned around and held your black covered hand out towards Fred. “Catch this,” you said, pushing your hand quickly into his face. You let out a wave of laughter as you pulled your hand away and looked at Fred’s face. The goo had gotten into his hair and matted his eyebrows and smeared down the side of his face. George let out a snort as he got a look at his brother. “Good one,” he said, holding up his hand for a high five. You grinned as you slapped your hand against his, sending goo spraying against the train window. “Didn’t think that one through, did you.” “No, no I didn't,” George said, wiping his hand on the seat he was sitting on. You both looked over at Fred, who was still trying to get the goo off of his face, also wiping the contents on his seat. “You okay there, Freddie?” George asked his brother. Fred looked up at him and then over at you. “Yeah, just thinking of a way to get even is all.” “Good luck with that,” you said, reaching for your camera. The twins looked at you curiously. You snapped a picture of Fred’s face, still covered in goo. “What’re you doing?” Fred asked. “Blackmail,” you simply explained, stuffing the camera back in your bag. ---------------------- “Five other siblings?!” you questioned, quite exhausted from the thought of that large a family. “I couldn’t even imagine.” “Yes, unfortunately,” Fred said. “You’re sure to meet Percy and Charlie soon. They’re third and sixth years. Both Gryffindors. Our whole family has been Gryffindors, actually.” “I suppose that means you two are hoping to get the same,” you mused at them. They both laughed. “Not so much as hoping,” George said. “We’re more expecting. Family tradition and all.” “But it’s gonna be awfully dreadful if we get stuck in the same house as Percy for five years,” Fred added. You laughed at that. The twins really had an odd way of viewing their brother. “What about you?” George asked, lightly elbowing you in the arm. “Hhmmm? What about me?” you asked, looking up at him. “Siblings? Family house traditions?” George pressed further. “Oh no. None of that. I’m an only child,” you told them. “Grandparents were both Hufflepuffs and my uncle was a Ravenclaw.” “And your parents?” Fred asked. “My mother is actually a Muggle,” you informed them. “And my dad didn’t go to Hogwarts.” They both seemed taken aback by that statement. “Didn’t go to Hogwarts?” George asked. “Did his parents ship him off to a different country?” Fred added. “No,” you simply stated. “He went to a Muggle school. He doesn’t have magic.” “No way!” they both said, basically shouting at you. You were slightly shocked by their sudden change in attitude. “Your dad is a squib?” Fred questioned you. You looked between the two of them, severely confused at this point. “I’ve never heard that word before.” “A squib is a person who doesn’t have magical powers, but their parents do. Basically the opposite of a Muggle-born wizard,” Fred explained to you. “They’re very rare,” George continued. “The caretaker at Hogwarts is actually a squib. He’s the only we’ve ever heard of before.” You thought over this new information for a moment. “I guess it’s true that he was born to a pure-blood family, but I always thought it was normal for some wizards’ children to not have magic. Just like, as you said, some Muggle’s randomly have children with magic.” “That logic does make sense when you look at it that way,” George said. It was silent for a moment before Fred asked another question. “How did your dad get a job at the Ministry if he doesn’t have magic?” “Working in muggle studies, you don’t need much magic,” you explained to them. “Plus my uncle also works for the Ministry, and he put in a good word for him.” You sat in silence for another couple minutes. You weren’t quite sure what to say anymore after that conversation. It was getting late and you were to be at Hogwarts within the hour. “Hey,” George said next to you. “Yeah?” you asked him. “If I were you, I’d be careful with who you share that information about your father with,” he said. “Because some pure-bloods think everything made by Muggles is rubbish?” you asked, finishing his thoughts for him. “Well I wouldn’t put it that way,” he said. He mulled over his thoughts for a second. When he spoke again, it was soft, like he didn’t really want to say what he was saying. “But yeah. Some pure-bloods think they’re above everyone who is of mixed blood or Muggle-born. With your blood status, I don’t even know what they’d think.” “What about your family?” you asked, looking between the two of them. Suddenly you were very worried that you were telling your whole life story to two boys who were basically strangers. “What?” Fred asked. “You’re pure-bloods,” you said to them. “But your dad reminded me very much of my pure-blood grandparents. And my grandparents would never think like that.” “Neither would we,” Fred said, his brown eyes lacking any hint of mischievousness for the first time since you met him. “Our family doesn’t have much,” George said, “so we know what it’s like to be looked down on by other pure-bloods.” You let out a sigh and looked out the window at the darkening sky. The stars would be out soon, and they were sure to look pretty glittering over the lake by the castle. “I’m sorry that I accused you of that,” you said, tearing your eyes away from the window to look first at George, who quickly darted his eyes away from yours, then at Fred, who held your eye contact. “No worries,” Fred replied. “How about I make it up to you by showing you this,” you said, rummaging around in your bag. You pulled out the camera. “This is a disposable camera. It just takes pictures. Not any of the magical moving pictures, but pictures nonetheless. My dad wanted me to have it to capture memories.” “What kind of memories?” George asked, looking at you again. “Happy ones, I suppose,” you told them. “But also sad ones. One’s that make me feel like I want to remember the moment, no matter what. And you know what? I’d like to remember my first train ride forever. Would you two mind taking a picture with me?” The twins looked at each other and then back to you. “I don’t see why not,” they both said. You looked out into the corridor of the train and spotted a student who looked to be a year or two older than you. You got her to take a picture for you and thanked her as she walked away. “Do we get to see the picture?” George asked expectantly. “Not until I get them developed over Christmas holiday,” you informed them. “That’s months away!” they both exclaimed, falling back into their seats. Even though you had been apprehensive of Fred to begin with, you were quickly growing to like both of the twins. Looking over at Fred, he still had bits of black goo stuck in his hair. You were sure it would take a couple showers to fully wash out. Sitting back down next to George, you sat a little too close to him, your shoulders brushing as you tried to get comfortable. Quickly, you moved a couple more inches away, having remembered the comment Fred had made earlier. You could feel your ears burning hot again, and glancing at George out of the corner of your eye, you were positive that his ears were red too. ------------------------ The twins were right about their family tradition, as the sorting hat was barely on their heads before it sorted them both into Gryffindor. An older redheaded boy was cheering excitedly as they sat down at the table next to him and another redhead. As you walked up to stand in front of everyone to be sorted, you could feel your heart racing. You weren’t nervous; it didn’t matter where you were sorted, as you had no ill feelings towards any house. The scary part was the uncertainty of the future that awaited you. If you got sorted into Gryffindor, you were sure to remain friends with the twins. If it was any other house, you weren’t sure. The thought of maybe losing the first two friends you had made here was what scared you the most. You cautiously sat down on the stool, your eyes turning to the sea of students in front of you. You found Fred and George in the crowd, and they both gave you thumbs ups. Smiling back at them, you let out a deep breath. The hat was placed on your head, and you could hear it contemplating for a few seconds. “I know exactly where you should go,” it said. “Already?” you asked, looking up at the brim. “Yes, I’m quite certain,” it said. You sat in silence for another few seconds before it shouted out “Slytherin!”

[notanacousticsetcal]

be home soon - calum hood

summary - loosely inspired by cals short instagram story cover of better be home soon by crowded house. being in a relationship with calum while he’s away on tour and when he finally comes home :)

warnings - a lot of missing each other but no real drama

word count - 1.7k 

a/n - mostly just wrote this because i’ve been thinking about what it would be like a lot. self indulgent lmao

Copyright © 2020 @notanacousticsetcal. All rights reserved.

Your phone screen lit up with a goofy picture of Calum and Duke and you smiled, rinsing your hands before answering. 

“Hi, baby,” you said softly. You could tell by his sleepy features that he’d had a long day.

“I could fall asleep to your voice.” His head fell back on the couch behind him and you laughed fondly.

“Are you tired? I can let you go if you need your sleep.” He sat up immediately and began shaking his head fiercely.

“No, no. I’ve waited all day to talk to you. I miss you.” He sounded like he was hurting. You frowned at the screen. 

“I miss you, bubs. So much.” 

He sighed. “This is really hard, huh?” 

You smiled sadly and nodded. “Yeah, it is. Just counting down the days until I can see you again.” He stared at you for a moment and nodded.

“Me too, baby.” He laid back on a plushy blue pillow and got comfortable watching you. “Whatcha making?” He sounded like a little kid. 

You laughed. “Fish tacos. I wanted to try something new from that cookbook Sierra bought me for Christmas.” You began slicing up your toppings as you waited for the fish in the oven.

Calum groaned from the other end. “I’m starving and that sounds really good.”

You smirked at the camera before pushing it back so he could see you as you worked. “Why don’t you go eat something, my love?”

“The pizza should be here in twenty minutes, just waiting on that.” You hummed in understanding and continued assembling your ingredients. “You look so cute. I wish I could hug you.”

You blushed a light pink and shook your head. “I would kill for a Calum hug right about now.”

He laughed, adjusting the rim of his bucket hat. “As long as it's not me, I’m cool with that.”

Calum continued to watch you put your dinner together while he waited on his pizza. The last leg of the tour was in America so his timezone wasn’t so different from yours. You weren’t sure exactly what state he was in at the moment. 

“Alright, baby. My pizza’s here.” He frowned and gave you sad eyes at the realization that this would be the end of your call. 

“My dinner’s ready too. I’ll let you go now.” You picked up your phone and held it close to make sure you could see his face before you said goodbye. You don’t really know why it was always so hard to hang up the phone but it felt like a stab in the chest every time you did. 

“Okay, enjoy your food. It looks amazing.”

“Thanks, Cal. I’ll talk to you soon, alright?”

“Alright, baby. Goodnight.” “Bye, bubs.”

You hung up the phone and set it on the counter, gripping the edge with your left hand. You felt tears prick at your eyes and a familiar burning in your throat. It felt like every day without him he got pushed a little further away. Every day you didn’t get to kiss him was harder than the last. All you wanted was to wrap yourself up in his arms and stay there forever. It felt like every day you were just living to see him again. It sucked. Only one more month. 

***

Calum was officially coming home from tour tomorrow. After 4 long months of agonizing pain and going to sleep alone every night, you would be in Calum’s arms again by midday tomorrow. You spent all day cleaning up the house and making sure that Calum didn’t have anything to worry about when he got home. He would just get to relax and settle back in.

Calum’s name popped up on your screen and you smiled. It was a phone call this time which was a little odd. At this time of night, Calum was normally done with the day and facetimed you. 

You accepted, pushing your questions aside and feeling overcome with excitement at talking to your boyfriend. 

“Hello?” You chirped happily.

“Hi, baby,” Calum said in his groggy bedtime voice. “What’re you up to?” You smiled, biting your lip at how adorable he sounded. 

“I was just about to shower and then watch The Nightmare Before Christmas with Duke.” You ruffled the small dog's fur and gave him a kiss on the nose. It was the perfect mid-October night for a Halloween movie. 

“How’s my little guy?” Calum asked. 

“He’s good, just misses his pops.” You grabbed some pajamas from your drawer and tucked them under your arm. 

“Tell him to hold on a little longer. I’ll give him as many cuddles as he wants tomorrow.” Cal laughs sleepily. 

“And what about me? Don’t I get any cuddles?”

“Baby, I’m going to cuddle you until you’re so sick of me you never want to see my face again.”

You gasped. “Are you kidding me? That’s impossible.”

Calum laughed and a comfortable silence fell over the two of you. “I can’t believe I’m gonna have you in my arms in a few hours.”

You blushed. “I didn’t know it was possible to miss someone this much.”

Calum sighed. “It's like I’ve been away from a piece of me for 4 months. I don’t know how I functioned without you.”

Your eyes began to well up with tears for the millionth time since Calum walked onto that plane and left you 4 months ago. You sniffled softly, trying not to let it be known that you were crying. But Calum picked up on it. He always does.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed. “No more tears. I’ll be home before you know it, my love.”

You exhaled the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I know, I know. I just… I love you a lot and sometimes my body doesn’t know how to handle it.” 

The line crackled and you heard Calum laugh lightly. “I can’t think of one thing I’ve done in my life that was so good that somehow…  the universe thought I deserved you… but damn do I feel lucky it did.” 

Before you could cry any harder Calum said he had to let you go and hung up, leaving you to again cope with the overwhelming feelings of excitement and anticipation at the idea of seeing your boyfriend tomorrow.

*

Calum silently unlocked the front door, more concerned about waking Duke than you. The pup had super hearing and would surely wake you up with his barking if he heard Calum coming through the front door.

Calum had maybe decided to bend the truth a little and told you he would be arriving about 12 hours later than he actually would just so he would get the chance to surprise you at home. 

He pulled his luggage softly through the front door and abandoned his suitcase and his shoes there, making a beeline for your shared bedroom. Calum wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with you for the first time in 4 months, his muscles aching with exhaustion. 

He slowly pushed the bedroom door open, the faint sound of Jack Skellington talking still playing softly. 

Calum smiled as he approached you and Duke lying comfortably on the large plush bedding, the small dog tucked tightly into your waist. He was thankful Duke hadn’t woken up so Calum could be the one to let his presence be known.

Calum crouched on his knees next to the bed, taking a few moments to watch you peacefully sleeping before he would wake you up.

After a few minutes of rememorizing every minute detail of your face and watching the rise and fall of your chest as you took in breaths, Calum finally reached a hand up and brushed a stray hair away from your face, caressing your cheek softly with his thumb. 

You stirred softly under his touch but your eyes stayed closed so Calum’s hand fell down to your shoulder. He squeezed it lightly in an attempt to slowly lull you out of sleep and not scare you.

“Baby,” he cooed gently, “wake up.” 

The sound of Calum’s voice made you think you were just having a really good dream but you slowly came to as Calum continued to rub your upper arm. 

Once your eyes fluttered fully open and you were able to take in what exactly was happening, you realized that the man standing in front of you was not a figment of your imagination, he was really there.

“Cal?” You rubbed your eyes hard and looked at him again. He was definitely real.

“That’s me.” He gave you that cheeky smile that you love so much and you immediately dove into his arms, almost knocking the poor guy over. 

“Cal, you’re home,” you ran your fingers through his hair, still not fully believing this wasn’t just a really, really good dream. But no, his hair was real and his body fit against yours like it did the last time you hugged him four months ago and you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, never wanting to let him go. “I missed you so much. This doesn’t feel real.” Calum rubbed his hands softly up and down your skin, under the shirt of his you had on. “I love you.” He said into your shoulder and you felt like you were melting into him.

After a few more minutes like that, you pulled away from Calum and tugged him into bed. He greeted Duke with lots of pets and kisses and as soon as Calum laid down, Duke found a warm spot next to him. 

“You must be exhausted.” You sat upright looking down at him as he lay with his head on his pillow, running your hands through his hair.

He closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of your cool hand. “I can’t sleep without you.” He said.

So you sunk down under the covers and Calum pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you and within minutes, you heard soft snores coming from behind you. 

He was finally home.

[miyaoniku]

being the younger sister of the miya twins, but you don’t do sports [bulletpoint]

“aka she does music” --author chae when she was explaining this to author clowe.

[bulletpoint] [sibling!au]

[author: chae]

a/n: hi. i’m impulsively writing this because my music and anthropology class is actually pretty interesting to me (this is a big deal because i don’t do well with reading informative texts or history). don’t mind me :)) i’m writing this a/n before the actual content, so i don’t know how long this will be so this might be a lot of bulletpoints. you have been warned. (this is unedited)

being the younger sister of the miya twins wasn’t exactly the best thing ever

you’re a year below them, so you’re always the subject of atsumu’s teasing

y/n: “tsumu, give me back my notebook >:((”

atsumu: “grow taller first, shorty~”

osamu: “stop bullying y/n, stupid.”

also atsumu always drags you out of the house to help him practice his setting.

atsumu: “y/n~ help me practice!!! youre always sitting inside!!”

y/n: “go ask samu.”

atsumu: “he said no and that i was annoying :((”

y/n: “he’s not wrong.”

he’s honestly the reason why you aren’t a sports person.

at least osamu was nice to you. he helped you make your bentos for school the next day and he always let you try his food creations.

and even if atsumu teased the hell out of you, he still got you some nice christmas presents.

people didn’t really notice you until you started to attend inarizaki.

“who is that girl walking with the miyas???” --the twins’ fangirls

when their fangirls found out that you were their sister, oh boy

they all tried to be your friend in hopes that they could see the twins outside of school.

but you weren’t having any of it :)

y/n: “why are you even fans of them??? they’re both dorks, and atsumu is the worst of the two.”

which is why the first thing that you ever asked them about the school is if there was a music club.

you had always been more on the musical side of things out of all the miyas. you liked exposing yourself to musics and instruments from different cultures. and you liked covering anime openings and pop music

osamu: “our cheering squad is basically an orchestra... but i think there’s a music room that’s pretty much vacant.”

your eyes sparkled when you he told you that

so therefore, you often spent most of your time in the music room, playing the different instruments while you waited for your brothers to finish practice

you actually had a secret cult following

(students who were still on school grounds after school often heard you playing piano. it helps them relax after a rough day :) )

you never really interacted with them at school, mainly because you disliked loud crowds (which they were always in) and also because you didn’t want their fangirls attacking you

the first time you met the volleyball team was when you brought atsumu’s bento box that he forgot in the morning (atsumu woke up late for morning practice one day and osamu said “screw him” and dipped lmao)

the other members thought you were a crazy fangirl that somehow snuck in.

kita: “um, excuse me miss, you’re not supposed to be in here.”

y/n: “you’re misunderstanding. i’m here to deliver lunch-”

atsumu: “Y/N MY SAVIOR!!!”

y/n: “- to this blonde idiot here.”

the team was confused as to how you handled atsumu on a daily basis. osamu could barely handle the dude. they all just felt bad for you.

atsumu: “y/n~ why don’t you ever come watch us practice??”

y/n: “because i don’t want your fangirls jumping me later?? and can you stop taking my food?!”

atsumu: “but you’re always in the music room while we practice D: you can’t see my jump serves!!”

y/n: “sumu i see them every weekend-”

aran: “wait, are you the one that always plays piano in the music room??”

suna: “you didn’t know?”

osamu: “don’t act like you’re not a fan, suna. i see you linger around outside when you hear it.”

suna: “.”

y/n: “oh... um... thanks...”

you were already aware of your cult following but you didn’t expect the entire team to be a part of it.

you were kind of embarrassed

atsumu: “she’s also good at singing guys!”

y/n: ” tsumu can you NOT-”

did i mention that atsumu likes to flaunt you a lot?? it raises his self esteem to have a cool lil sister

osamu: “y/n you should’ve let him starve.”

y/n: “you’re probably right.”

you end up being the person that the other members go to whenever atsumu and osamu have a fight.

kita: y/n, please come collect your brothers. they’re fighting again.

[you arrive 10 minutes later]

y/n: “i have come to collect the trash cans.”

ok but in all seriousness, they are the best brothers you could ever ask for

they’re supportive on what you do and will always back you up in a tight situation and lend you a helping hand.

of course, you also do the same for them.

in family pictures, you’re always between the two of them.

it’s just one big, happy family.

even with atsumu and osamu fighting all the time

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Shameless self promotion ahead- why? Because i have nothing else but soukoku brain-rot rn (yes, I'm working on the stack of request for my personality HC thing- but some of ya'll gave so little information it be hard T_T)

-Bsd college Au- (It's soukoku)

Dazai’s confident, independent, smart, but a total jerk and playboy

.Chuuya's confident, independent, slightly idiotic, but a total pushover.

Dazai’s unorganized, calm, and enjoys making his roommate's life hell.

Chuuya’s organized, irritable, and hates his roommate with his entire soul.

Sadly, Dazai finds his roommate appealing to the eye, in other words hot, but he’s still… a closeted bisexual.

Sadly, Chuuya finds his roommate hot, but his roommate insists they’re straight.

Nakahara Chuuya and Dazai Osamu are roommates.

Chapter 1: Roommates With every rustle of the leaves, a brisk wind passed over, chilling the humidity to be bearable for a moment. Yokohama tended to have warm summers, even towards the end there were days when the humidity stung. It could be cold enough for a hoodie in the early morning, but far too humid for one in the later afternoon, right before it cooled down again. The signs that lead into the sweet release of the cool fall season.

“You know, I said I was helping, not doing most of the work here.” Oda, a male with slight stubble and brown, slightly red hair grumbled. His eyes looked back to another male, arms wrapped in bandages, and eyes drained of any emotion. The smallest cardboard box within his hands as he snickered.

The boy was Dazai Osamu, an 18-year-old who’d pushed through hell to make it here. Despite not wanting to go to college and instead be a basement dump until he died, he stuck his tongue out.

Within that exact second, Dazai's eyes filled with life, something that he could do on command, a mask of sorts. “But Odasaku, I can’t carry all the heavy boxes!” the childish whine Dazai produced towards his cousin scraped within the poor adult's ears.

“If you ate anything besides ramen and take-out, you might be more than skin and bones,” Oda grumbled. Setting the final box down in the dorm room. So far there hadn’t been a sign of whoever Dazai’s roommate was to be. Oda prayed for the unfortunate soul who had to deal with the brunette.

“I don’t only eat ramen! I ate vegetables just yesterday!” Dazai crossed his arms, laying his finger over his bandages.

“The ‘vegetables’- Oda moved his hands to form air quotes around vegetables - in those 10-minute self serve ramen packets don’t actually count.'' Frowning Dazai pouted, acting like a child once again. It was something Oda had never minded considering his cousin had never had a real childhood.

Before he could make another whiny remark, the door to the dorm opened.

~

Stepping from a rather expensive-looking car, a ginger-haired male stepped outside into the warmth of the closing summer. His hair, longer on one side than the other, rested neatly over his shoulder. His feminine-like frame caused him to stand out a bit more than he’d like. Though, it was natural for a model to stand out in the crowd. Not that he modeled too often, it had been a pastime after moving in his third year to Yokohama. He’d done it with his older sister a handful of times before then, but she’d left for London just before they moved.

Grabbing one of the cases, he glanced at his father, who was getting out of the car. “Dad, I can handle this myself, you really don’t have to help me.” The petite male mumbled slightly embarrassed. Though, his words were the truth considering his strength was out of the ordinary for his size.

“Nonsense Chuuya, let you old man at least have this.” The boy's father, a male who kept his locks of raven hair down to his waist in length, shivered as he spoke.

Chuuya sighed, handing his father a few smaller boxes as he grabbed several of the larger boxes. “How’s Ane-San been?” Chuuya hadn't been able to call her with how busy he’d been the last month, he suspected his father, with how protective he was, had to have called at least once.

“Ah, Koyo has been doing alright. Both she and Yosano (Koyo's fiance) plan on coming down for Christmas.” Rimbaud smiled lightly as he spoke. Chuuya’s lips also turned into a smile hearing that he’d finally met his older sister's fiance. The two of them had been engaged since she’d graduated from college two years ago, and had been together for 5 years before that. “So when will you be attempting dating again? I do miss that boy… it was Shirace right?”

As his father mentioned the boy's name, Chuuya's stomach tightened and his heart picked up before he calmed himself. The two of them were cities apart, he’d never see that boy again. Shaking off the thoughts that had flashed within his mind, he smiled. “It wasn’t meant to be dad. Regarding another boyfriend, I don’t know. I know Ane-San dated a lot, I'm just not sure I want to get back into dating yet.” Chuuya shrugged as they came up to his assigned dorm. Grabbing the handle, he twisted it and opened it, coming face to face with his roommate looking like he was about to start a childish bicker with whoever that was.

“Hey…” Chuuya’s attempt at speaking was completely suffocated when Dazai turned to look at his roommate. God, he was more than just good-looking. Sure Dazai was on the frail and thin-looking side, but he still looked perfect. The shape of his jaw, to the depth of the brunette's coffee-colored eyes, all added to his looks. That was also looking past the males' ideal height. He was positive, the brunette noticed he was being checked out.

“He’s so… so short.” Dazai snickered as he looked Chuuya up and down. His eyes glanced all around looking for little things to poke fun at. At least, that’s what he was saying he was doing. There was no way he was checking Chuuya out. Sure, he did resemble a girl, at least a little bit. His eyes were a replica of the clear ocean. The way his hair curled around his face, the small freckles that stood against his pale complexion… were all attractive.

At least, it had been until the male’s brow twitched and his hands balled into fists. “I’m still growing!” he hissed almost like an angry child. Rimbaud sighed, tapping his son's shoulder.

Oda looked to him apologetically before turning to Dazai. “That’s the first thing you can say? Not, hey or hello?” Dazai shrugged, walking to his room with a yawn.

“Eh, I’m tired, I wasn't thinking of being polite. Plus, when am I ever polite?” Dazai smirked, leaning his head back as he shoved his hands into his back pockets. Sadly, his statement was nothing less than honest. He was never polite. If he wanted something, he was upfront about it. How else would he have such a long list of girls' hearts he’d shattered?

Chuuya rolled his eyes before moving the rest of his boxes into the dorm. ~

Chuuya took an hour to get everything from the boxes and his suitcase into his closet and drawers. His secret box, which he’d made sure to carry in, was still packed tightly, but that was because he was figuring what to do with it. Luckily, his closet had the perfect space for bottles. Unlucky to him that space was out of his reach. Hissing to himself, he looked around before grabbing the footrest to one of the chairs. When he finished organizing and making sure every drawer was labeled with what should be put inside, he glanced around.

His roommate had yet to unpack anything from his boxes. Not that there seemed to be many boxes to begin with. In fact, they were all labeled, one box of clothes, another labeled self-car, and a third labeled bandages. That had been something he noticed about his roommate. Rolling his eyes, Chuuya moved to knock on his roommate's door. The response he got was grumbled and inaudible. “Are you going to unpack?” there still came no response, so he figured his roommate was simply sleeping after a long trip or something. Shrugging it off, Chuuya walked into his room, directly next to dazai’s with a very thin wall separating them. Pulling out a sketchbook and some pencils, he put on some music and began sketching some art designs.

[amyscascadingtabs]

rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky

It’s the perfect little getaway, exactly what they needed. It would be even better if she could only stop thinking.

“So, tell me.” Jake holds her hand over the table, forcing her back to reality. “Five top moments for us 2019, go. Countdown-stylez.”

Three different New Year's Eves, as celebrated by Jake and Amy (and Mac).

read on ao3 💕

december 31st, 2019.

The hotel guests checking in before Jake and Amy are a family. A little girl with blonde hair, maybe four or five years old, is carrying her own pink backpack and making up dance steps around her father’s feet as he goes through the information with the receptionist, and an even younger boy is hiding behind his mother’s legs as he watches the people in the lobby with wide eyes. Looking up, Amy realizes that the mother’s open coat is revealing a baby bump, too. She’d put her at six, maybe seven months pregnant. Three kids. Amy feels a pang of jealousy.

Even with the observation skills of an experienced detective, it shocks her how good she’s become at picking out families and pregnant women in any crowd. It’s an interesting talent, but measured against the pain it causes her, Amy wouldn’t call it a very useful one. She notices Jake looking at the kids as well, a daydreaming look on his face, and somehow, that makes her pain worse.

The idea behind going away to a hotel upstate for New Year’s was so they could get away from the stress for a moment; go somewhere else, rest and relax, forget about the pregnancy master calendar they’ve stared themselves blind at for a few days. Amy didn’t realize how impossible it would be to get away from all the other reminders.

She draws a breath of relief when the family in front of them gets the keys to their room, the little girl running first towards the elevator and her brother laughing as he chases after.

“Cute kids,” Jake whispers, watching them longingly.

“Yeah.” Amy tries not to think about the negative pregnancy test she threw away in the bathroom trashcan before they left. “Really cute.”

//

“I’m excited you said we could drink tonight.” Jake toasts his White Russian with her glass of Sauvignon. “It’s been a while.”

“I know, “ Amy feels the guilt wash over her. “Well, it’s not New Year’s Eve every day. I think we’ve earned it.” And I already took a negative test, she thinks.

“We sure have.” He gives her a closer look, pressing his lips together like he always does when he’s worried about her. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Just tired,” she says. It’s not technically a lie. “I didn’t sleep that well last night.”

“Lucky we have a huge hotel bed to help with that tonight, then. Seriously, this place rocks.”

Amy’s prepared to agree on that part – she did her research the moment it stood clear they would both get New Year’s Eve off. After getting their room, they’ve spent the evening getting massages in the hotel spa, dining at the surprisingly nice restaurant, and now they’re admiring the view from the bar on the top floor, waiting for the fireworks. It’s the perfect little getaway, exactly what they needed. It would be even better if she could only stop thinking.

“So, tell me.” Jake holds her hand over the table, forcing her back to reality. “Five top moments for us 2019, go. Countdown-stylez.”

“Number five!” She rolls the r and holds on the i, earning herself an amused look from the older couple next to them. “Okay, I’m going to go with… that date you took me on for my birthday. I can’t believe you got into the puzzle bar this time!”

“I might have convinced the guard to let me in because it was your birthday, but still a good one. Number fooo-uur… the Cinco de Mayo-heist. God, that was fun, even if the tasing hurt like a bitch.”

“Agreed. Number three – when Holt finally invited us to that dinner party and I almost didn’t lose my cool once.”

“You keep telling yourself that, babe. Number two… the Jake way. Seriously, I still think we should try that again. It was awesome.”

“It was, but also way inappropriate,” she reminds him, but he just shrugs. “Number one, then.”

“I know which one is mine, but you go first.”

Amy swallows, then sighs. “Mine is after the manhunt. When we decided to start trying. That’s still my favorite moment.”

“Mine, too.” Jake looks her in the eyes, and she knows the bittersweet feeling is shared. “It’s going to happen, Ames. I know it. Maybe this month’s the one.”

Amy doesn’t have the strength to correct him, tell him she’s already taken an early test and that she’s lacking any confidence there’s going to be a second line when she tests again in a couple of days. Luckily, she doesn’t have to, because right then, the fireworks that have been going off a few at a time in the distance begin to multiply as the countdown starts.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

Amy leans forward so she can be kissing him already when the new year begins.

Three, two, one… happy new year!

The crowd around them erupts into cheers as the sky glows with colorful explosions when burning bits of metal lighting up the darkness outside. Jake kisses her deeper, seeming to forget that there are people around with a bit of alcohol in his system and his hands cupping her face. For a moment, Amy lets herself just be happy.

~

december 31st, 2020.

The instant Amy closes her eyes for the more-than-well-deserved nap Jake told her to take while he made dinner, Mac begins to cry from his crib again.

“McClane, please,” Amy pleads, as if reasoning with her two-month-old would solve his discontent. “You can't seriously be hungry again, that’s insane.”

She tries with the pacifier first, checking his diaper, even standing up and walking around with him for a bit to eliminate anything else, but Mac is still clenching his fists and only looking even more furious with her, so Amy gives in. She sits down with him again, unhooks one side of the bra and lets him find his grip, exhaling when the peaceful suckles begin and the desperate crying finally ceases. She swears it looks like her son is side-eyeing her for taking too long, but to her defense, she fed him for a good forty-five minutes only a little over an hour ago and it's exhausting being used like a human pacifier. Growth spurt, Camila Santiago said when Amy called her in tears yesterday, and the problem-shooting section in the 0-3 months baby-binder had agreed. Amy would argue that sounds way too innocent for something which is turning her otherwise happy and smiley baby into a constantly hungry and crying mini-monster who won't close his eyes for more than twenty minutes at a time.

There's a soft knock on the door after a few minutes, and Jake peeks in. He’s wearing his fancy kitchen apron, which Charles gave him for Christmas with the comment that there’s nothing sexier than a dad who can cook. It hasn’t magically improved his cooking skills, but Amy’s willing to admit that it does look good on him.

“You guys doing okay?”

“He is, for now. I’m going crazy. How’s our dinner going?”

“Well, I haven’t burnt it yet, but there’s still time,” he grimaces, sitting down at the foot of the bed. “Do you need anything, babe?”

“Sleep, but that’s not going to happen.” Amy rubs her eyes. “It’s fine. He’s got to fall asleep at some point, though, this is nuts.”

“Don’t challenge him, he’s breaking records,” Jake says, leaning forward to tickle Mac’s feet. Mac reacts by kicking at the boob he’s not currently feeding from, making Amy curse. “Oops, sorry. Anyway, I’m sure he will fall asleep at some point, and we can have a nice, calm New Year’s dinner. I mean, he has to be exhausted, right?”

“God, I hope so. I’m starving.” She can see Mac’s eyelids getting heavy, but every time she thinks they’re about to fall closed, it’s like he twitches and stares at her, wide awake. “He’s lucky he’s cute.”

Jake grins. “Lucky indeed.”

Mac starts pulling away at that moment, a little bit of milk still dribbling from his cheeks. Amy reaches for one of the muslin blankets that’s never more than a few feet away in their home nowadays, lifting him so he’s upright against her shoulder and patting him on the back. She expects a burp, but instead, she gets an unpleasant surprise when he spits up, managing to get sour baby puke down her back and in her already greasy hair. She groans, giving Jake an exhausted look when she sees him stifling a chuckle.

“Hey, I’ll take him. You go take a shower and I’ll put him in the BabyBjörn. Maybe that will do it.”

“That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said,” Amy mumbles, and she’s not entirely kidding.

She makes the shower as long as she possibly can. Most days, she has to shower with Mac in the baby bouncer on the bathroom floor, so even the chance to be alone in the bathroom for more than five minutes feels like a luxury. She lets the shampoo really lather and the conditioner take its time to sink in, trying to massage the knots in her neck and shoulders under the hot water. She can hear Mac still fussing from the kitchen, and it makes her feel guilty even though he’s barely left her arms today.

“He’s fine,” she whispers to herself like a mantra. “He’s fine. Jake can handle it. He’s perfectly fine. Everything’s okay. You deserve this.”

She still skips the make-up and nicer clothes she had been planning to put on, throwing on a pair of maternity leggings and one of Jake’s old hoodies instead.

The dinner looks fantastic, some sort of chicken baked in the oven with rice and a lemon sauce, and Amy’s actually impressed. She imagines it would have been even nicer if she could have eaten it warm and together with Jake, but they only make it through toasting in orange soda and the first two bites before Mac wakes up from his ten-minute-nap, wailing as if he truly believed he’d just been abandoned. They end up having to take turns eating and walking laps around the living room with him, because he starts crying again if they stop moving for a second or as much as make an attempt to put him down. Amy is suddenly relieved they said no to her brother Tony’s New Year’s party-invite.

She can barely believe it when after what feels like the fiftieth or so feed of the day, Mac falls asleep. Curled up like a little frog on her chest and letting out the cutest of baby snores, he finally seems to relax, and Amy doesn’t even dare to breathe too sharply for the first ten minutes. Eventually, though, once it seems like he’s not going to wake up from the slightest movement or a raised voice anymore, Jake tucks them both in under a blanket and gets the Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and orange soda from the fridge. Then he gets another blanket for himself, and they snuggle up together in the corner of the sofa in front of the tv. From live footage at Times Square, Amy can see crowds of people waiting for the ball to drop.

“Wishing you were there?” Jake winks, but she just laughs.

“Are you kidding? Cold, crowded, and you can never even get a good view. This is better in every way.” She strokes her thumb over Mac’s dark hair. “I have this one and you. That’s all I need. And ice cream,” she adds, digging out a piece of cookie dough from the tub.

“You’re right, it’s pretty damn close to perfection. Top five moments of 2020?”

Amy shakes her head, pointing to Mac. “No point. They’re all about him, anyway, and they’re all too good to compare.”

“True that.” Jake shakes his head. “Hey, isn’t it crazy that although he’s been kind of a nightmare today, I’ve already forgiven him?”

“No, it makes perfect sense, because I’ve almost wanted to give him away several times and now I can’t even remember why.”

“Having a baby makes us kind of crazy, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely. I wouldn’t change it for the world, though.”

“Me neither. Not even if I was offered a role in the next Die Hard-movie and Taylor Swift did the soundtrack.”

“That’s pretty big,” Amy laughs, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Would Taylor Swift do the soundtrack for Die Hard, though? Realistically speaking?”

“It’s a daydream, Ames!”

She has no time for a comeback, though, because right then, the countdown starts on the tv and Jake raises the volume a few bars so they can hear.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

p;

“New Year’s kiss,” Amy says, holding Mac up slightly so they can both reach him.

Three, two, one… happy new year!

They both smother his cheeks with kisses at the same time as the fireworks explode over the sky in the distance outside their windows and the crowd begins to cheer on tv. Mac doesn’t even flinch, completely oblivious to the celebrations going on outside. Amy sighs.

“How can he magically sleep through all of this, but wake up the second I put him down in his crib at night?”

Jake shrugs. “Babies, man.”

~

december 31st, 2021.

Amy has only started to take off Mac’s winter overall before he starts trying to flee, kicking wildly with his boots and pointing towards the kitchen where he’s already spotted Rosa. Jake notices her struggle and is quick to help her, and the instant the toddler is free, he hurries off towards his best friend.

“Wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo!”

“Mac! Hey, happy new year, man!” Before Amy can even take off her own jacket, Mac is already in Rosa’s arms and babbling excitedly as he plays with her gold necklace. Amy wonders how much of what Mac’s saying actually makes sense to Rosa, but she’s nodding and smiling and seems to have abandoned whoever she was previously talking to in favor of the one-year-old.

“Jake. Amy.” Kevin appears to take their coats, shaking their hands. “Welcome. Drinks and hors d’oeuvres are in the living room, and I see your small child has made himself at home.”

“He found Rosa, yep.” Jake grins. “And he has a name.”

“Ah, yes… McClane.” Kevin nods. “Very well. I have to go check on… the kitchen. Enjoy your evening.”

  “He’s never going to like me,” Jake whispers to Amy the moment he’s left.

“Well, I think we both might have lost a few points with the name choice, babe.”

“He’s one to talk names, he’s got a dog named after a cheese!”

“I know, but we can’t tell him that. Come on, Jake, I have to find something to chew on before I get sick.”

“You can always blame it on the alcohol, if you do.”

“Jake.”

“Just kidding,” he grins. “You go check on Mac and Rosa and I’ll locate the snacks.”

 It turns out Rosa is more than willing to guard Mac for the evening, currently showing him the model train she's found in the library. Mac is watching with focus as Rosa helps him turn on the button that makes the train drive around the tracks, laughing as it lets out a choo-choo sound.

“Your son is much cooler than the rest of these lame partygoers,” she shrugs when Amy asks her if she's sure it's fine. “He says what he's thinking, unlike the rest of all these dum-dums.”

“Dum-dums,” Mac repeats, proud. Rosa nods.

“Exactly. I’ll call you if something happens.”

 And so, in an unexpected turn of events, Amy finds herself able to sit down for most of the evening without having to chase a wild toddler around to keep him from whatever dangers he could somehow manage to get himself into in Holt’s and Kevin’s house. She supposes it looks quite antisocial of her, and maybe it is, but she’s six weeks pregnant and the early symptoms of nausea and fatigue seem to be coming on both stronger and faster the second time around, so Amy doesn’t really care. She’s got lemon sparkling water for a non-alcoholic drink, a paper plate of carrot sticks, salted crisps and almonds, and she’s not going to talk to anyone unless they sit down next to her. It’s practically heaven. Jake checks on her from time to time, assuring her multiple times that they can just leave early if she wants to, but however tired she feels, Amy doesn’t want to insult Holt that badly. They’re staying until midnight as per proper New Year’s party etiquette, and then — and not a second later — they can go home so she can crash in bed.

 Rosa finds her again when Mac begins to get sleepy, rubbing his eyes and yawning but still shaking his head when Amy asks if he's feeling a little tired. He crawls over to her arms anyway, laying his head on her shoulder and hugging his arms around her chest.

“Thanks for looking after him,” she tells Rosa, but she just shrugs.

“No worries. I don't get to hang out with him enough. Your kid is dope.”

“Douh,” Mac whispers, mimicking her, and Rosa laughs.

“Repeats every word you tell him, too,” Amy says. “Yeah, he’s pretty awesome. Come over to our apartment at five-thirty in the morning on any weekend and you can hang out with him all you want. I won't stop you.”

Rosa scrunches her nose. “I’ll consider it.”

“He’s in a great mood then, I can assure you that.”

“I'll take your word for it. Also, Jake was tipsy talking baby names with some etymology professor when I saw him last, and he seemed very intense about it for a guy who's not currently thinking of naming any new babies. Or?” She raises an eyebrow.

“No, he just get thats intense when somebody implies McClane is a weird name,” Amy says, and makes a note to herself to remind Jake about their agreement not to tell anyone else at least until the twelve-week mark. “Which, to be fair, I warned him that people would think. But here we are anyway.”

“It is a weird name. Couldn’t imagine him being called anything else, though, even if I still don’t understand why you agreed to it.”

“There was a really good PowerPoint involved.”

Rosa looks at her questioningly, but Amy shakes her head, knowing there’s no point in explaining the unexplainable.

“Hmm. You guys are weird. You make pretty great kids, though.”

“Yeah.” Mac has fallen asleep by now, drooling a little bit on Amy’s shoulder. She kisses the top of his head and thinks of the abstract idea of her second kid, the thump-thump of an already present heartbeat they got so lucky as to hear on an early ultrasound yesterday. “The best.”

 As midnight draws closer, most of the guests take on jackets, scarves and shoes to venture out into the garden to watch fireworks. Not wanting to be left out, Amy and Jake manage to get a half-sleeping Mac, who wakes up suddenly interested when he hears about the promise of fireworks, into his overall and join them. It’s a surprisingly good view from the garden, the cold winter air waking them up, and Jake points out the vibrant displays in the sky to a drowsy Mac, who blinks at them dazedly. It’s so cute it makes Amy tear up. Being both a mom and newly pregnant does that to her; she’s given up trying to fight it.

  It’s hard to believe that two years ago, she was toasting in champagne in a hotel bar and wondering if they would ever make a baby together, and now she’s standing in a garden watching Jake with their one-year-old son and knowing that next New Year’s, if all goes well, they’ll be parents of two.

“What are you thinking of?” Jake must see her tears, because he looks worried, but Amy just smiles.

“Just how quickly things can change. How happy I am. And how much I love you.”

“Love you, too. Top three-hundred-and-sixty-five moments of this year,” Jake says, hugging her close so they’re standing in a little family bubble. “Every single day I get to wake up with and then come home to my family.”

  Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

  They both lean in so they can smother their son with kisses, and he laughs as he figures out what’s about to happen.

 Three, two, one… happy new year!

  The sky explodes with color, Jake and Amy attack their son with kisses, and as the new year begins, Amy thinks she might just be the luckiest person in the entire world.

~

[yanderecandystore]

Happy holidays! how about a hot chocolate competition among the yandere ocs and the best one gets a special cabin date with darling?

Hello @teachillvibes, I'm so glad to see you again- Your requests are always so wonderful boo, thanks for requesting me this one!

Happy holidays everyone!! 🎄

TW/Tags: Sweet times cause I sure love them- // kinda like a city festival going on lol // I took your concept and change it a bit I'm sorry boo ;-; // it took me so freaking looooooooong to do it XD I'm sorry- I was kinda hoping that this could be my Christmas gift to y'all ;-;

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Hot Chocolate Competition [Yandere!OCS x Reader - Headcanon]:

🍒Bullies🍭

→Alexandra Coldwell:

If I'm being honest, she probably would have reconsidered sharing the prize with her brother before she can consider going out with you instead. Alexandra entered the competition solely because she thought it would be fun, after all she isn't really the type to get herself dirty if it isn't for fun.

She wanted to win of course, but surprisingly she did have a lot of fun learning how to make hot chocolate, especially with her brother's help. Alexandra thought it would only make sense to take her brother as her company into this free wintery vacation, yet for some reason he didn't accept her offer.

Adrien felt satisfied with helping his sister as normally his cooking skills are generally unappreciated or ignored, although he appreciated how his sister wanted to pay back for his help, he was already happy with just being the one that got to teach her something new, since it's normally the other way around.

And besides- Free vacation packages are always so lackluster to him, if it isn't a five star service then why even bother? He could literally pay for better treatment than what the prize guarantees anyway.

Still, she wouldn't have accepted it if she didn't have someone in mind already. Yeah, yeah, she knows you probably won't like the idea of spending time with her, especially all alone in the cold.

But- Hey, I think you should give her a chance, after all, isn't this the time to forgive and forget? Maybe not completely forget, but I'm sure she'll do her best to make this the best trip for you, ever!

→Adrien Coldwell:

Adrien is known as the lazy one of the twins, the antisocial, the "mean one" (let's be honest, they're both evil but in different ways-), yet people tend to not give him enough credit for his accomplishments.

Him coming out as the winner of the competition may seem shocking to many but let us all remember that this isn't just his random luck, Adrien really did work his best to win and since he is already interested in making sweet treats for himself you can only imagine how hard he wanted to be recognized at least once.

The prize that he won was a vacation to a winter resort of some kind for two people, meaning him and anyone he would like to bring. Adrien considered bringing his sister, since he felt like it would be better for her to spend Christmas in a cabin with him than at home with... both of their parents and, may he dare say, ridiculous Christmas songs. Those damn, Christmas songs.

But Alexandra made sure to refuse his offer each time he tried to bring up, saying that the place was probably runned down and filthy and that she would never step inside a place like that- Alexandra also said that it wouldn't be fair to go with him since she didn't help him, and that this was something he won on his on, he deserves to enjoy it fully.

But what a dilemma, who would have the privilege of accompanying him to such a "special event"?

You, of course. Even if he knows you would rather be far away from him and get some rest from his constant torment, it's not like he would leave you alone at all lol-

Hey give him a break, will you? I'm sure you'll have a great time with him, he promises he won't do anything stupid while you two are there.

Just let him repay you for an entire year of entertainment, dearest.

🍎Teachers🥧

→Madeline Allen:

Madeline is normally very uninterested in competing with anyone, even if the prize sounds amazing. What made her stay and see more of the event was when she noticed you in the crowd, maybe you were with your friends, although she didn't really see anyone she recognizes as your friends there-

What made her participate and do her very best to win? It was when she noticed how most of the contestants seemed to have a suspicious interest in you, something felt weird in those stares they were giving you. She is a little suspicious about the intentions behind those stares, yet she has to recognize that whenever there is a shiny diamond radiating light, it's hard to not notice. It's obvious that they recognize how shiny you are, love.

It doesn't really excuse their clingy behavior towards you, but sure, she gets why they're doing this, or why they would enter this competition in the first place. All to get your attention apparently.

Honestly, she wasn't planning on entering this competition at all, but… Hmmn, how can she say this nicely- She doesn't like these people trying so hard to get your attention, specially with the prize being something that would give any of them the privilege of having you all by themselves, no dearest, she can't let them have you like that-

Besides! Wouldn't you prefer being with nsomeone that is actually looking forward to making you happy, instead of being stuck with brats, with troublemakers and… uhn- A cosplayer…?

Anyway, all of them are pretty eccentric with their own weird little charm, she is sure they'll be fine, especially far away from you- Believe me, she is so excited about this vacation! Forget about these guys, think about all of the things you two can do!

She is already thinking about what she'll bring with her, some cozy warm clothes, maybe her favorite fuzzy blanket, maybe some of her favorite movies, some rope, an tranquilizer-

Well, who cares about the details anyway?? She is just so excited, she can't wait to give you the best of her cookies!!

→Matthew Robinson:

Matthew is a really reserved individual. Being part of big events is simply not his thing, but it was because of you and that sweet smile of yours that brought him to this place. And well…. The smile stuck in the other contestant's faces… Not that they were even half as charming as yours, on the contrary, they seemed oddly sinister.

Mischievous by their very nature, all of these people seem to be somewhat interested in you, breathing in your presence like you're oxygen itself. Disgusting. For the first time in his life he feels pissed off enough to say he wants to see them drop dead- Not that he'll actually do anything, he is nothing like that.

All of these people seemed really interested in winning that prize and hopefully taking you with them, which of course he couldn't allow it, as your only protection from these fiends.

When he won, he was too dumbfounded to even notice the hatred looks that the other competitors were giving him. He really did win, didn't he? He couldn't believe he won!

For the first time in his life he didn't feel satisfaction that came from the competition itself being great, no, true satisfaction came when you accepted to go with him! That's the golden prize he never thought he deserved, yet feels so rewarding.

Don't worry dearest, he'll take care of everything that you need while you two are there, you'll be treated like the perfect little princess/prince you are, like the perfect doll.

Now he just needs to be sure on what to bring, this is probably the most excited he has been since he was a child!

🍋Delinquents🐍

→Janette Sartorius:

Janette isn't one for entering in these competitions just because, there needs to be a good reason for it, like helping them raise a good funding for some sort of charity, or ya know, impressing that one really cute person in your class. Yeah, really important-

Look, she has a lot of clown energy, she knows it, but being publicly humiliated is absolutely not her thing! And that means being either the loser or the winner, she doesn't know exactly what to say when she is put into such position-

Still, if it means giving you something nice, then sure! She'll take whatever she can, although she was focusing on gaining something like second/third place so she can get something small like a plushie or a basket of chocolate, anything that would be small yet really charming- Just like you!

When the judges announced her as the winner in first place, she couldn't believe it! No- Seriously, she couldn't believe it!! She tried to make sure her presentation would be nice but mild enough to not be considered a winner!! What the hell???

Even if the universe seemed to have betrayed her by making her be the one in front of so many people as she claimed her prize, she was once again blessed with luck, as her prize was something truly worth looking like a fool in front of so many strangers-

Of course she'll take you first! Why not?? It's not that weird, it's just pals being pals and inviting each other to cool trips, ya know?? Surely she isn't screaming inside at how cliche this all seems.

Look at her, NOT thinking about the huge amount of fanfiction she had ever read where there was only one bed! NOT her reconsidering not going because she can't handle the thought of there only one bed. She is totally fine, ya know? NOT thinking you'll hate her when you learn how much of a weeb she is-

She'll make sure that you have fun with her, but you'll probably catch her trying way too hard to impress you very soon- Please, talk with babe- In her brain there is only one neuron, and it's constantly banging its head in the walls of her brain screaming your name.

→Jackson Macnee:

Jack isn't really interested in these competitions, it isn't his thing, he wouldn't waste time on it unless there was something really, really important at hand.

And it seemed like today was the day to do anything that he could to not only enter such stupid competition, but to win it at all costs. It was when he recognized those familiar faces next to yours that he decided to enter it, but it was when he noticed all of the contestants, who were presumably strangers to one another, get somewhat riddled up about your presence.

Yeah sure, you're cute, you're pretty and yes you're perfect, but seeing half of the contestants being so… Clingy over you it's absolutely ridiculous-

What? You know all of them?? Or are you going to tell him that some of these imbeciles got this lovestruck immediately just by taking one glimpse at you? You would sound absolutely insane to him if you have chosen to tell him none of them, absolutely none of them are interested in you in any way- Especially those dumbass bourgeois blondies.

Jesus fuck, what type of luck is that? Having all these morons be so interested in impressing you by winning a prize for you? Sounds dumb to him, but still, if winning it's what takes to make these fools stop daydreaming about you then so be it. It's not that he really wants to impress you by giving the prize he won, he just wants to see the twins cry after noticing the cruel reality that they don't have you- Or that they can't get everything that they want, that could work too-

Jack is sure to seem calm and unbothered throughout the entire event, trying to sound happy that he won, and trying even harder to not make the laugh in the face of the rest of the competitors. But honestly, he wasn't expecting the prize to be so…. convenient? Really? A place where he can take you to be all alone with him while enjoying such a joyful season?? Yes, he'll gladly take it and make sure to shove in everyone's faces, not literally, but clear enough for everyone to get the message.

Although he is happy for his win, he doesn't really know what to do from there- The fact was starting to settle in when he rethought over and over again about the trip. Somewhere all alone with you, sounds really, well, like a dream, like a fantasy, unrealistic.

Jack will do what he does best, fake that he is calm while hiding the fact he is panicking at the thought of being this close to you. Again, he doesn't want you to know how much he wished for this. Whenever he acts like he doesn't care at all, he at least hopes you know you do mean a lot to him.

🍈A.I (non-binary/gender neutral)👾

→Yuma Soma:

Yuma was focused on winning the moment they entered the competition, however they didn't know what the prize would be until they actually won it. They were more interested in the competition aspect of this event than what they would gain with it, yet when hearing what the prize would be they were, well, confused-

What is so special about this whole "free vacation"? A cabin in the middle of the woods with nothing but snow? Pff- As if snow is even that cool for them to want to see it! Yeah, they know what snow is….. 100%...... yeaaaaaah.

Okay fine, they don't really know what it is. I mean- Sure they know the definition of it, and they have seen a bit of it in their game, although they bet that what they have seen isn't half like the real deal.

It may seem silly, but maybe this trip could be a great opportunity for them to be able to see it and feel it for the first time with you by their side. With you trapped inside the game or not.

Don't be so mean boo, they promise they'll behave this time! The biggest gift you can give them it's the wonderful time you two will share, then again, it's not like you can really do anything against it, right?

🍬Kitsune🦊

→Tatsumi:

To be honest, Tatsumi isn't one for entering these types of competitions unless the price is truly worth it. Money would be the first thing in his list of priorities, yet the idea of going into vacation on the holidays doesn't sound half as bad, ya know?

While walking around the city plaza with you, you two noticed the event happening and decided to take a look.

He wanted to try it out because it sounded fun, yet to actually win?? This feels amazing yet somewhat inappropriate to him, he didn't really consider the possibility of winning, that it almost feels like he would be taking something that he doesn't deserve.

And as he struggles to come out with any excuse as to why he can't take the prize, even though he could take it and give it to any of his friends, you decided to intervene and take the prize for him.

You already knew how Tatsumi felt about himself, you didn't know exactly what led to it but you did know about his constant breakdowns whenever he thought no one was looking. He did tell you about some of his issues but whenever he could he would fake it as being something dumb that you shouldn't worry about, but come on- You already know that is bullshit.

Tatsumi would feel better knowing you're coming with him, but he would still feel awkward knowing it's just the two of you, and it's not like he won't receive thousands of messages from all of his friends calling him out for not inviting any of them. It's not like they had anything against you, they just really liked messing with him over his massive crush over a you-

He may be a little sneaky perv bastard, but come on now- You know he will treat you right while you two are there, honestly he just wants to enjoy some change of scenery with his favorite person.

🍰CEO📏

→Ingrid Bright:

First things first, Ingrid is a serious woman owner of the biggest business empire in the country- Do you really think she has time for things like that? Cause either way, even if she lost, she could have- Built a winter resort just for herself if she wanted to go there so badly.

But who knows, maybe she found something charming about winning the competition and sharing the prize with you, it's… A bit more charming than her just bringing you to a place she paid for. Something about the novelty of winning something for you sounds really appealing, maybe even worth the trial and error, and again she doesn't really need it, so there isn't any harm in trying.

Although let's be honest, there is a slight possibility that the game was rigged to her favour considering her own status against the various competitors. What? It's not like she is aware of it, if anything she is just as clueless as every other person competing.

She probably does need some rest from the same boring office that she has to work in everyday, and bringing you with her may be the best part of it all! What do you say? Want to get some rest far away from the company?

Well, maybe not completely far away, considering she is your boss… But, maybe if Ms. Bright gets to relax for a while, she'll eventually soften up. You won't be in an awkward trip with your boss anymore, you'll be on a surprisingly nice vacation with a person you knew for a while but only got to truly know recently. She really hopes you don't see her as just your boss...

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[ghostofstudentspast]

Obligatory (part 2)

Series Masterlist

“Oi Y/L/N, is it true you’re marrying the ferret?” a ginger head of hair popped up next to you as you kept your head held high walking to class.

As it turned out, the Hogwarts rumour mill was rather dry, so the news of you being engaged to Malfoy had spread like wildfire. You had tried your hardest to ignore the stares and the whispers that followed you through the halls, especially from the Gryffindors. Slytherins and purebloods were ever so slightly more understanding, earning you looks of pity rather than ones of disgust. You weren’t sure which was worse.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business Weasley.” You didn’t even look at the boy before answering.

You weren’t on bad terms with Weasley and Potter. Not in the way Malfoy was anyway. Regardless of how much you tolerated them, you weren’t in the mood to be interrogated. Besides, Ron always came off as a bit of a self centred boy in your opinion.

“People are judging you anyway, you might as well tell the truth,” he scoffed and stopped walking. You kept walking, keeping your eyes ahead.

Mother had always said you were good at handling people. You’d figured out later you were just good at presenting the version of you people wanted to see. Your parents wanted a soft spoken little princess. Your teachers preferred an attentive listener who asked in depth questions. Pansy and Theo liked it better when you were loud and confident. All of these people saw different sides of you and the only person who really ever listened was your best friend Daphne.

She was the one holding your hand walking down the hall now. Quick to shoot a venomous glare at anyone who dared to look your way with a haughty attitude. She had been there to wipe away your tears when you had tried again and again to figure out a way out of this contract.

The contract you currently had clutched in your hand as you made your way to the library. As promised your father had drawn up a copy of the contract for you to hold onto. To read over and over again until the lines all blurred together. As you flattened the contract against the library table you wondered if you were fooling yourself, hoping for a way out.

“So, I got permission from professor Snape to use the restricted section. I’m definitely on his watch list now though,” Daphne murmured from the cushy seat beside you, “he probably thinks Theo wants to do something illegal again,” she snorted.

It wasn’t unusual to find a Slytherin in the restricted section. While Ravenclaws might be the more studious ones, Slytherins were set on knowing as much as they could about the important things in life. Hence why every pureblood you knew had been learning dark magic, and it’s counter curses since their first year at Hogwarts. Some things would never be taught in classes but if you were clever, you’d find a way.

Theo however, had been banned from the restricted section for life by every teacher around. In fifth year they caught him trying to curse one of the school toilets to bite people and accidentally flooded an entire bathroom on the third floor. Needless to say, he was kept under a watchful eye.

“Have you talked to Draco yet? About all of this I mean?” Daphne whispered as she added a few books to the growing pile on your table.

“No, he’s been avoiding me,” you hadn’t exactly been hunting him down but it was the truth. Anytime you’d be in the vicinity, he’d suddenly find himself extremely busy or he’d disappear into the crowd. “I don’t blame him. He’s not exactly pleased about this either.”

“Y/N...” Daphne hesitated before asking what was on her mind, and everyone else’s for that matter, “did he really take the mark? Blaise wouldn’t tell me.”

You fiddled with the edge of your sleeve. It wasn’t your place to tell her these things but she was your best friend. Your parents had of course let you know that your darling husband to be was now in fact, a death eater. You nodded ever so slightly and met Daphne’s eyes. They were round with concern and a hint of fear was etched onto her delicate features. She chewed on her lip for a moment and pulled the contract over to her.

“Well, lets figure this out then shall we.” it was an unspoken rule between the two of you. Never admit how afraid you were of your families. Never let them hear your hesitation when they asked about your allegiances. Only the two of you knew, you were too kind hearted, too soft, too disgusted to ever really be on their side. It was what bonded you together.

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend by the time you got to speak to Draco. Well, that’s when you gathered your confidence anyway. You approached him outside the three broomsticks, the two boys flanking him spotted you before he did.

“Hi Blaise, Theo!” You smiled widely at the two boys who grinned in return, “Malfoy, a word please.” your smile was tight as he turned to face you.

“Keep the missus happy Draco,” Theo hollered after you. To your relief, Blaise smacked him in the forehead and dragged him into the pub.

“What do you want? I have things to do.” He crossed his arms and looked over your shoulder, cold air escaping from his parted lips. It looked like smoke billowing out of a dragons mouth. He was aptly named.

“Daphne and I still haven’t been able to find a single crack in this contract,” you huffed as he still refused to meet your gaze and instead fiddled with his gloves, “I need your help.” you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Look who’s suddenly involving me in this,” his cocky smirk popped back onto his lips easily, “we don’t have a copy of the contract and I’m not stealing from my father.” he deadpanned.

“I have a copy.” you didn’t meet his eyes and shuffled your feet.

“Of course you do.” his tone was clipped, pissed off, you could tell. “So much for sharing that with me. Whatever, fine, give me the contract and I’ll take a crack at it.”

“I can’t just give you the contract Malfoy I need it too,” you mentally cursed him, talking to him always felt like trying to eat soup with a fork. Very difficult and you don’t get much out of it.

“Yeah alright, then meet me in the common room tomorrow at noon and we’ll look at it together.” his icy eyes met yours and seemed to stare right into your mind, maybe they could, you were sure he knew legilimency. “Anything else or am I free?”

“Yeah, you’re free,” you blinked at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat before turning on your heel and stalking back towards the castle. Bloody Malfoy.

“No I’m telling you, clause 19 counteracts that. I have to take your name.” You paced in front of the black couch Draco currently occupied.

In his hands he held your copy of the contract. After every few lines of reading he’d throw out a spell, potion or non-magical suggestion to a clause. You would then be forced to point out why these things wouldn’t work, as if you hadn’t already considered every option.

When he’d suggested polyjuice potion you’d laughed. Living separately? You’d immediately pointed a few lines down where it stated you’d take over the left wing of Malfoy Mansion. Simply having an open marriage? The scandal would be horrible, so of course your father had added a clause for that.

“I’m telling you Malfoy you need to get more creative.” You shot a tight lipped smile his way as he pushed his glasses farther up his nose. You hadn’t actually been aware that he needed glasses. They made him look less uptight, or maybe it was the fact that his hair wasn’t slicked back with gel.

“Yeah, I’m trying here Y/L/N,” he ran a hand through his hair again. “You running a hole in the floor isn’t exactly helping.” he added without looking up.

For the past half and hour you’d been alternating between pacing back and forth and perching on the sofa opposite of Malfoy. Something about the intensity in his gaze while he scanned his way down the parchment made everything feel all the more real.

In fact the next few Sunday’s, leading you all the way into the holiday season, you and Malfoy could be found spitballing ideas back and forth in the common room. It was the most you’d spoken to each other in years and it was strangely tolerable. He still made you want to throw a book at him every twenty minutes but at least that was an upgrade from every five minutes.

“I don’t know if there’s a way out of this,” Draco finally spoke after a prolonged silence. It was the week before Christmas break and while you refused to give up hope, he’d seen through the contract weeks ago and knew you were just holding on for your sanity.

“No, there has to be,” You chewed your lip anxiously, “I mean, maybe he left something out?”

“Our fathers are death eaters what do you expect Y/N,” his voice was cool and smooth, almost like a piece of glass, “they’re not stupid.”

“My father isn’t a death eater.” You stopped pacing and faced the blond.

“When’s the last time you’ve seen him wear short sleeves? The last time you checked his forearm?” His eyes were calculating as they gauged your reaction.

“I-“ you paused and thought hard, “last summer.” Your jaw tightened and you felt tears well up in your eyes. It shouldn’t have surprised you this much. You’d thought maybe it was just a feeble following, something your parents could come back from.

“Hey, I didn’t mean-“ He started awkwardly before you cut him off.

“Keep it.” Your voice wobbled, “keep the contract, I don’t care. I’ll see you over Christmas.”

Series taglist: @xkonpinkx @detroitobsessed @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @pointlesscoconut @irlkell @thehumanistsdiary @mo-onstarrs @summer-writes

[allfandomxreader]

Home for the Holidays (2)

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: He could’ve easily told you about Margot on many occasions. Why didn’t he? You can’t be sure. What you do know, is his secret makes it easier to have your own. Even so, your guilt is almost unbearable. 

Warnings: Language, drinking alcohol, alluded drunkenness. 

Words: 3.9k

Part: 1/5 (probably)

A/N: Just like the reader and Luke, I don’t know how I'm going to pull this series off. This chapter seems a little quick and jumbled to me but everything is important to the plot, sorry in advance. As always, feedback is loved and appreciated :) Not my gif!

Series Masterlist // Stranger Things Masterlist

Just like Hawkins, your room remains exactly the way you left it. Your knickknacks collected a thin layer of dust while you’ve been away, the photos and books still sit in their rightful places, the clothes you always leave behind are still folded neatly in your dresser untouched. This room used to be your sanctuary, an escape from problems that were just beyond the door.

It’s always a weird feeling waking up in your childhood home, surrounded by things belonging to the person you used to be. You feel out of place, too different from the girl you used to be to claim this room as your own, like your past and present are at battle and you’re caught in the crossfire. You’d give anything for this room to feel like home again. You wish you could crawl back under the sheets, to go back in time and have the worries you had as a teen before the real world came all too quickly. Or at the very least, you just wish you had a good night’s sleep.

Exhaustion is not an unusual for you these days. In the past month, you got used to working late nights and studying until the early hours of the morning. Today should be like any other, going through the motions, learning to live with the mistakes made in nights prior. You’re not sure how to live with this one though.

You don’t remember the last time you lied to Steve, the two of you were always brutally honest with one another, so open with each other’s lives at times was almost painful. Or so you thought.

It wasn’t like Steve to keep secrets from you, quite frankly you didn’t even think that was possible anymore. Every second of downtime your day allowed was spent talking with him, whether that was through FaceTime calls or text messages. He could’ve easily told you about Margot on many occasions. Why didn’t he? You can’t be sure. What you do know, is his secret makes it easier to have your own. Even so, your guilt is almost unbearable.  

“Do we look straight enough?” Luke asks from beside you. He’s spent the majority of the morning sifting his suitcase to find something to wear.

“I don’t know,” You admit looking over your outfits for the tenth time. “Wait, uncuff your jeans.”

“Seems a little stereotypical.” He grumbles, bending over to fix his pant legs.

“Well I don’t know! This entire thing is fucked up and I really don’t know how we’re going to pull it off.” His eyebrows raise at your sudden outburst. “I’m sorry,” You say, pressing your palm to your forehead to collect your thoughts, “I know you’re trying to help, and I can’t thank you enough. But I didn’t think break would be this stressful.”

“Remember that one time at the bar? When the creepy guy wouldn’t leave you alone? Think of it like that.”

“You pretended to be my boyfriend all of five minutes. And it was to fool a stranger not my entire family and closest friends.” With a final sigh, you reach for the door handle.

“Shouldn’t we set ground rules?” He asks.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, it’s Christmas and there’s mistletoe and shit,” He shrugs, “I’m not kissing you for more than three seconds.”

“Yeah, because I totally want to make out with you in front of everyone.” You only get a glare in response. “Okay, fine. No kisses longer than three seconds. Are you okay with holding hands and hugging?”

“Sure, that’s pretty normal. I could kiss your cheek or forehead when it feels necessary too.”

“Cool. I’ll even lay my head on your shoulder if I get tired or something, but I do that anyway.”

“And how’d we start dating?” He questions, “That’s probably pretty important to know.”

“We kissed that night at the bar, right? Let’s just say that’s when we realized our feelings for each other. Keep everything as close to the truth as possible so this doesn’t get even more out of hand. Deal?” You stretch your hand out for him to shake.

“Deal.”

Reluctantly, the two of you head into the kitchen. Dustin’s already seated at the table; his breakfast barely touched. Your mother hums to herself, fixing the last of the bacon on the stove.

“Morning, love birds!” She sings as the two of you take your seats. You almost cringe, you watch Luke gulp before sending a smile her way. It seemed only right that you told your mother and Dustin that Luke was more than just your roommate after telling Steve. Now, she won’t shut up about it, you wish you never said anything at all. “Did you sleep well?” She asks, setting the rest of the food onto the table.

“Always do.” You smile, beginning to fix your plate. You didn’t, between Luke’s tossing and turning and the ball of anxiety waiting to unravel at any given moment, it’s surprising you got an hour of sleep at all. When you look up, your mother is already grinning at you. “What?”

“I was wondering how long it’d take before you both fell in love. I’m just so happy the two of you finally made it official.” Luke chokes on his orange juice beside you, you can’t help but stare at her with your mouth agape. “Oh god, have we not said the ‘L’ word yet?”

“Anyways, Dustin!” You cheer, desperate to have the conversation not centered around you. “Will we be seeing Suzie at all over break?”

“She lives in Utah, Y/N,” He says with an eyeroll, “In what world would I be seeing her.”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, “Everyone else is with their boyfriend or girlfriend, I thought maybe you would be too.”

“The only person who brought someone home is you.” Dustin says, poking at his food with his fork, maybe you hit a nerve.

“That’s not true, Steve brought Margot.” Dustin’s head snaps up, ignoring anything that held his attention before.

“Who’s Margot?”

“Steve’s girlfriend apparently. You didn’t know either?” You ask sharing a glance with Luke.

“That son of a bitch—” He cringes before your mother can even ridicule him. “I knew he had a fling. I didn’t know they made it official. Or that he’d bring her home.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I knew jack shit about this girl.” Your mother throws her hands into the air with a huff at her children’s bad manners. You and Dustin stifle a laugh while she excuses herself from the table to get ready for work. “We’re about to meet Robin and do some last minute Christmas shopping before tonight, wanna come with?”

“No thanks, I’m helping Erica fix her laptop today.” Dustin says finishing his last few bites of food.

“You’re still coming to Steve’s tonight though, right?”

“No shit, it’s tradition.” He says taking his plate to the sink. You can’t help but smile. Even after all these years, Christmas traditions with your family of misfit friends hasn’t changed.

An hour or so later, you find yourself pulling into the Starcourt parking lot. Two years ago, you hated this place, it was always crowded and too loud. It didn’t help that you worked for shit pay at the Gap, all your time seemed to be spent at this place. Sure, it was new and exciting when it first opened, but the glamor quickly wore off after about three shifts.

You suppose it wasn’t all bad, though. Steve would always bring you a scoop of your favorite ice cream on his break or you’d hang out in a booth with him and Robin on yours. You never stopped making fun of their uniforms, Steve’s contact photo is still him in that stupid sailor hat.  

“You’re telling me a town this size has a mall this big?” Luke asks trailing towards the entrance behind you.

“Yeah, apparently in the 80s people thought that Russians infiltrated Hawkins, but the conspiracy was never proven.” You laugh. He doesn’t get another word in before you spot Robin, the two of you already sprinting towards each other’s arms. As always, you greet each other with hugs and squeals earning concerned glances from fellow shoppers.

“It’s been too long!” Robin smiles, pulling away from the embrace.

“It gets harder every time we say goodbye.” You agree before quickly introducing Luke and your best friend.

The three of you shop for way too long and spend far too much money. Each of you have a handful of bags and aching feet by the time you find a quiet booth in Scoops, a tradition after every shopping excursion.

“The outfits look even worse these days.” You comment, setting down your purchases onto the tile by your feet.

“I’m sure mine and Steve’s belong to someone else now, they rarely ever buy new ones.” She says taking the seat across from you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust, but the dingy yellow shirts that you swear were once white only confirm her statement. “Hey, while we have some time alone, can we talk about your boyfriend for a sec?”

When you look at her, the normal smirk isn’t present on her features, the glint of mischief is absent from her eyes. Your stomach churns, you’re tempted to breakdown right here, to come clean and tell her everything’s a lie. It’s hard enough lying to one best friend, you hate lying to them both.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“And please don’t take this the wrong way, I’m only saying this because I love you.” You shift uncomfortably in the metal chair. Robin never outwardly says she loves you, not unless she’s drunk. You glance over to Luke, he’s too preoccupied leaning on the counter talking to a boy with floppy hair to even notice. “Do you think there’s any way he could be—”

“Gay? I know.” You laugh, or try to that is. A part of you feels relieved, to have at least one other person know the secret you’ve been carrying for the past twenty-four hours, to have another person on your side. At the same time, you’re terrified. Of course, Robin knows all about your crippling feelings for Steve, she’s known almost since the day you met. She’s had her fair share of ‘Steve Talk’ at sleepovers or on phone calls. You don’t know what you’ll do if she’s angry you lied to her about it, that she had to figure it out for herself.

“Oh, thank god,” She sighs, shoulders slouching as relief spreads through them, “I really thought you were blinding dating him and had no idea.” She pauses abruptly, cocking her head to the side, “Is this because of Steve?”

“Why would—”

“Alright, this one’s for you,” Luke interrupts, setting Robin’s order in front of her. “And this one’s for you.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek as he sits down. Robin purses her lips at the sight, trying her hardest not to laugh.

“We’ve been outted.” You say, digging your spoon into an already melting ice cream cup.

“Fuck, already?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, although Robin’s already shaking her head.

“Everyone in this town is oblivious. They wouldn’t know a gay person if one was standing in front of them,” She gestures towards herself, “Clearly.”

You try to laugh, but you can’t even find the energy to muster a smile. On day one of this charade, it’s already crashing around you. If you couldn’t lie to Robin, to make it believable enough to her, how could you to Steve? The person that knows you better than anyone, who can spot one of your lies from a mile away. It’s starting to look more impossible and more unbearable with each passing second.

“Hey, I’m not going to tell anyone.” She reaches across the table, patting your hand in efforts to put your mind at ease.

“Silver Cat?” You ask, cocking a brow her way.

“Well I assumed so.” She rolls her eyes, waving her hand in dismissal.

“Wait, Silver Cat? What the fuck is that?” Luke looks between the two of you, waiting for someone to fill him in.

“It’s our code. Basically, if someone calls Silver Cat, nobody else in the party can know. No matter what, it stays just between us.” Robin explains.

“We rarely use it. It’s for our most top secrets. Like when I told her about my crush on Steve, I called Silver Cat.” Luke nods along understanding, “It’s only used between us, Dustin and Steve. We used to have a whole saying but that’s is the only thing that stuck.” The three of you begin to eat your ice cream in silence, each of your thoughts elsewhere.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” You blurt, “Why did you think this had to do with Steve?” Not that any of this made sense, this whole thing is a shit show from start to finish. But maybe that part makes the least sense of all.

“I assumed you met Margot.” Truthfully, you don’t know what answer you were expecting, you could’ve come up with hundreds of responses, but that wouldn’t have made the list.  

“Am I the only one that didn’t know this girl existed?” You can’t tell whether you’re more sad or angry. It’s like everyone is a part of one huge joke, all watching and laughing from the outside.

“Well, I don’t think Nancy and Johnathon know.” She tries to make it lighthearted, maybe even make you laugh. It doesn’t work.

“Yeah, that makes me feel better.” You roll your eyes, pushing away the ice cream that remains, your appetite disappearing all at once. Across from you, Robin shifts in her seat. She focuses too intently on the table in front of her.

“He called Silver Cat too.” She admits. You want to ask more, to try your best to prod more information out of her. But that’s not how the code works, each of you made that very clear almost two years ago. The only thing you can do, is drop the subject entirely. “All I can say is,” She continues, even though it’s against the rules and you both know it. “She wasn’t supposed to come home for Christmas.”

You spend the rest of the day in a daze, your mind clouded with matters far beyond faking a relationship. You know you shouldn’t, nobody can be mad when someone uses the code, you were the one who came up with that rule. You always thought Steve would somehow end up finding out about your feelings and get mad at everyone else in the party. It wouldn’t be their fault for keeping your secret, so you thought of a loophole. You never would’ve thought it’d be used against you. And even though you parted ways with Robin hours ago, you still hear her words in your head. The conversation has been on repeat, like a song you can’t stop hearing no matter what you try.

“You okay?” Luke nudges you as you make your way up the steps to Mr. and Mrs. Harrington’s front door.

“I will be.” You shrug. You can’t bring yourself to move towards the doorbell or even knock.  

“We don’t have to do this tonight, we can say I got sick or something.” He offers.

“Even if you were sick, I’d still come. The four of us take traditions very seriously.”

“Wow, thank god we’re not real. You’d be a terrible girlfriend.” You offer a quiet laugh. With a final deep breath, you interlock fingers with Luke’s. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as you knock.

It doesn’t take long for the door to open. You half expect it to be Robin, for her to be there to soften the blow. She’d whisper a joke in your ear to ease your nerves or immediately hand you some sort of liquor. You don’t know how you’ll survive the night without one.

Part of you thought it’d be Steve, that would only make since. He’d smile and you’d try not to swoon. He’d give you a welcoming hug and say he missed you despite seeing you the day before. You didn’t, however, think it’d be Margot.

“Hello!” She sings, full of energy. She catches you off guard, pulling the two of you in a hug. It doesn’t last long, but even in the quick exchange you can smell her perfume, vanilla and something citrusy. You can even smell the trace of Steve, the same cologne he’s worn since high school. It makes your stomach recoil.

You don’t have enough time to dwell on the thought, she’s already pulling you inside talking a mile a minute, you can hardly keep up with her words as she drags you to the living room. “I’m so excited for tonight. I love looking Christmas lights. When we were on our way here, I saw all of them on the houses. They weren’t lit of course, but I think they’ll be pretty. Oh, we also made eggnog, it’s spiked but there’s more brandy on the counter if you like it stronger.” You glance at Robin, sitting on the sofa already nursing her drink. She only smiles with a light shake of her head.

“Oh, yum,” You say once you come to a stop.

“Sorry, I’m a little excited. I’m so glad you guys are here, I can’t wait to get to know you both.” She offers a bashful smile that you can’t help but return.

It’s here you realize you have nothing against her. It’s not her fault she’s dating the man you’re in love with, she had no way of knowing that. It’s also not her fault he didn’t tell you. Maybe, your anger has been spent on the wrong person, blinded by your feelings for Steve.

“We can’t wait either.” You grin, gesturing between yourself and Luke.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” She rushes to a bag discarded on the floor, rummaging through it for a moment before pulling out clothing. “We got everyone ugly Christmas sweaters for the gift exchange,” She says handing them to you and Luke, “We didn’t know your size, Luke, so if it’s too big, blame me.”

“You guys didn’t have to do that,” You say as Steve makes his entrance down the stairs. “Thank you.” You’re not sure what washes over you as you pull her into a hug. Maybe it was to make her feel welcome. Maybe it was for Steve, to show your support to their relationship or maybe make him feel guilty about keeping it a secret. Maybe it was to keep up the charade, to make it more believable.

“Well, glad to see everyone’s getting along,” Steve smiles, pulling you into his arms. “Missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You laugh, giving him two single pats on the back.

You let everyone mingle while you excuse yourself to the kitchen, heading straight for the liquor. You make two drinks for you and Luke, adding a generous amount of brandy into your cup. At this point, you don’t even care if it tastes good, all you know is you can’t be completely sober this evening.

“Yikes, rough day?” Steve asks when he enters, leaning against the counter. You only shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “There’s no way that tastes good.” His nose scrunches in disgust as he watches you drink.

“I’ve had worse.” He was right though, it tastes disgusting, but it’ll do the trick. “Dustin can’t make it, he called earlier saying Erica’s laptop was taking longer than he expected.”

“That little shit,” Steve shakes his head, “I knew he’d bail.”

“I don’t blame him, he’s always around couples between Mike and Lucas.” This morning, the thought of Dustin not being there would’ve stung, but you don’t really want to be here either.

Everything is starting to feel more like a burden rather than tradition. With Margot and Luke thrown into the mix, it’s not as meaningful as it was two years ago. “Plus, now we can all fit comfortably in a car.”

It’s colder outside than what you expected. You stand alone in the driveway as everyone else slowly puts on their coats inside. You can’t help but stare at the passenger seat, remembering all the moments you spent sitting in that very spot.

They were the ones you held closest to your heart. The ones where Steve would sing offkey to his playlists and you’d air guitar every solo. The ones where you’d sit in parking lots and talk for hours about anything and everything because there wasn’t anything else to do in this town. Or last Christmas, when the two of you screamed the lyrics to every Christmas song with Dustin and Robin begging for you to shut up from the back. The four of you ate decorated cookies and drank hot chocolate and rated your favorite houses. Just last year feels like a lifetime ago, you wish more than anything you could go back.

Everyone makes their way out eventually, their noses already turning red from the cold, each of them are desperate to get into the warmth of Steve’s car. Margot makes her way to the passenger seat, unknowingly and out of habit you assume. You watch as Steve looks between the two of you, about to protest. You shake your head, reluctantly taking the middle seat in the back.

The drive is awkward to say the least. Without Dustin’s blabbering, nobody says much of anything. It’s not like last year, the music isn’t loud, there’s no singing, nobody gets excited when you pass a lit house. Steve glances at you through the rearview. Sorry. He mouths, you only shrug, purposely avoiding his gaze and the way that his hand wraps around Margot’s in her lap. Even the brandy wasn’t making this night any more bearable.

“So, Margot,” You begin, unable to take the silence any longer. “What are you studying?”

“I’m studying early childhood education!” She grins, “I want to be a kindergarten teacher. I think children are so… imaginative, I love seeing how they think about things and I want to help them grow as people. Or try to at least.”

“I think you’d be perfect for the job,” You answer truthfully, giving her a reassuring smile. “Are you still studying criminal justice, Steve?” His brows furrow, cocking his head slightly.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He takes his eyes off the road, locking them with yours.

“Just asking a question, it’s not like you tell me anything anymore.” You didn’t mean to say it, you also didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. You aren’t trying to hurt his feelings or get under his skin, it just slipped out. Robin chokes beside you, sinking into her seat as if it’d make her disappear.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks. You don’t answer, crossing your arms and pointedly looking out the window. You can still feel his eyes on you, but he doesn’t push any further. Nobody speaks for the rest of the drive.

You aren’t sure how you made it home, you must’ve fallen asleep in the back of the car. The alcohol caught up to you, only making your head throb as your body is lowered onto your familiar sheets. “Steve?” You call but he doesn’t respond. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that back in the car.” You whisper as blankets are pulled up to your chin. “I love you.”

“I’m sure he loves you too.” You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s Luke. Your body wilts, you wish you could cry but the tears don’t come. You know drunken confessions never end up well, you’re sure it’s better this way. But you wish Steve could’ve heard, it would’ve been easier that way.

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