#did not even bother checking my calendar when the dates came out i simply put in my PTO request for friday lmao

[joeydaccord]

realized my taylor swift concert is the weekend before the yotes avs game and idk what i would have done if they were on the same night

[dameronology]

an insight into forever {poe dameron x reader}

summary: imagine having a love so deep that is completely unwavering - even in the face of broken promises, unspoken words and unfinished conversations 

warnings: ANGST, so much angst, swearing, mentions of death 

enjoy :) this hurt to write

- jazz

Poe Dameron had a tendency to not think before he spoke. 

It was bad at the best of times - and it only got worst when he was around.

Worst, because you were the love of his life. Worst, because you were the most beautiful human being he’d ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. Worst, because he was completely and utterly obsessed you and worst, he’d let you go. He’d done a lot of stupid things - really, really stupid things - but allowing your relationship to reach a better end took the cake. Heck, it baked the cake and threw it into the fucking ceiling fan. Left splatters all up the wall and on the carpet and over his heart. Stained his heart with marks of your relationship, destined to keep him trapped in your unwitting grips until he met his untimely demise, probably in cockpit of an X-Wing (refer back to the really, really stupid things.) 

He’d been through a couple break ups but this felt like the be-all-and-end-all. You’d given back his jumpers and jackets and belongings that he’d left in your room, but you still held onto a few tiny pieces of Poe’s heart. It was like a subtle, permanent grip on his brain; he occasionally thought about you but was always painfully aware that he’d let go of the best person in the galaxy. You were a once in the lifetime thing, like winning the lottery or finding gold at the bottom of a rainbow. Both of those were things he’d willingly forfeit in a second if it meant having you back.

So, you probably get the point: Poe was sad, your break-up was bad and you were a little mad (that was a rhyme Finn came up with to summarise the events of your relationship’s bitter demise to anyone who asked). It had been a few months, and you were both finally at the point where you could hang out as a group of five friends with it only being slightly awkward. It had only taken a minor intervention from Rey, Finn and Rose to get you to acknowledge one another again, but it was the first step to being friends. That’s what you’d been before, and if you could just set aside your differences, perhaps you could be there again.

The five of you always made a point to hang out together on a Friday. Your jobs in the Resistance took up every waking second during the week, so it was strictly marked in your calendar as friend time and you would all be there without fail. Usually, you found yourselves in a small cantina in one of the little villages a few miles out from the base on Ajan Kloss. It was the one day a week that things actually felt a little normal; just five young friends and some alcohol, laughing together and having a good time. 

There was always something lingering in the air between you and Poe -- stolen glances and sneaky looks, and an atmosphere that paid ode to a million unsaid things and a plethora of unfinished conversations. Arguments that never reached conclusions and hearts that never quite healed; yours nor his. To force it all into a box and slam it shut and to process that hurt with proper closure was holding you back. Clinging onto your shoulders with a mighty grip that prevented you from truly moving on. 

‘So, that cute mechanic asked about you today.’ Rose’s voice pulled your attention away from the pilot and back to the painfully Poe-free reality in which you found yourself.

‘He did?’ You blinked in surprise. 

‘You did go on a date last week without calling him back.’ She reminded you. ‘He wasn’t bothered. I think he got it - everyone gets a bit busy in this line of work, right?’

Yeah, because that’s why you hadn’t replied to his 27 text messages. 

‘I didn’t realise you were even dating again.’ Finn observed, eyes briefly flickering to his best friend. ‘I mean, not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just-’

‘- Finn.’ You cut him off. ‘It’s fine. Poe and I are friends now, right?’

Poe simply looked up, dark eyes shifting from his half-finished drink. He didn’t say anything for a moment, instead giving you a look that emanated the vibe he’d rather swim naked through the seas of Hoth than answer than question. It wasn’t until Finn cleared his throat that he pulled away from your gaze and forced the fakest smile smile known to man, and every other creature that roamed the galaxy. 

‘Right.’ Did he normally speak through gritted teeth?

‘So, d’you like this guy?’ Rey asked. ‘He seemed nice when I met him in the air hangar.’

‘He’s...’ you paused. Annoying, whiny, argumentative, has a voice like a foghorn and, most importantly, isn’t Poe Dameron. ‘Fine.’ 

‘So are you gonna call him back?’ Rose pushed. ‘Because the minute you bring someone new to the table, I can set up ol’ flyboy here with the cute girl from comms who’s been eyeing him up.’

‘I’m okay, but thanks.’ Poe’s fake smile barely faltered, eyes landing on you again. ‘I don’t need a relationship when I have such fulfilling friendships.’

You almost choked on your drink at that. The irony was laying in the fact that you used to love Poe’s little sarcastic jabs and backhanded comments - at least when you’d been sat beside him, laughing into his shoulder and holding his hand under the table. Now, you were in the line of fire and maker knew you’d left your bulletproof vest at home. 

Needless to say, his forced smile fell when you gave him a kick on the shin under the table. 

‘So..you and Cute Mechanic. Not a thing?’ Finn asked.

‘Definitely not a thing.’ You confirmed. 

‘You don’t have to say it on my behalf.’ Poe said. ‘If you like the guy, you can talk about it in front of me.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself.’ You snorted. ‘It’s nothing to do with you. I genuinely don’t like him.’

That was half true: you didn’t like the guy, but it was everything to do with Poe. You could have met the holy grail of men and they still wouldn’t have had a chance in hell. That’s not to say that Poe wasn’t the holy grail, but he was flawed. So you were you. It was those flaws that had lead to your downfall in the first place. Fundamentally, everyone had to have them -- it just so happened that the best parts of you clicked so well and the flawed parts of you clashed so badly. The good times and bad parts were so different that they were like two different ends of a magnet; complete opposites and inevitably polarising. 

Rose, sensing the tension between the two of you, suddenly pushed to change the subject. ‘So, did anyone see the General-’

‘- I’m gonna go now.’ You stood up. ‘I’m really tired and I have an early meeting tomorrow.’

All four of them knew that was bullshit. There were no meetings on a Saturday, but they kept schtum. There was a chorus of okay, get some rest! and see you tomorrow, but Poe didn’t say anything. He just kept you in his gaze, watching as you gathered up your things and headed for the door.

The air outside was cold; Ajan Kloss had hot, hot summers and freezing winters. You fumbled to pull your jacket over your shoulders as you stalked away, boots thundering against the muddy path as you headed back for the base. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and it was safe for the most part. Everyone on the planet was either a native villager - all of whom were humble and welcoming - or a fellow Rebel. 

You didn’t bother to turn around when you head foot-steps behind you. It was a Friday night, which meant that there was going to be people around. 

It was only when somebody grabbed you by the shoulder that you suddenly spun on your heel -- luckily, Poe Dameron managed to catch your fist in time to save it hitting his face. It wasn’t personal. It was natural to get a little trigger happy with the ol’ mitt when a stranger grabbed you in the dark. Only, it wasn’t a stranger. It was your ex-boyfriend, looking as handsome as ever with disheveled hair and a five o’ clock shadow. 

‘For fuck’s sake!’ You snapped. ‘What the hell are you doing?!’

‘I came to check you were okay!’ Poe released his grip on your wrist, letting it flop to your side. ‘You only ever stalk out like that when you’re mad.’

‘No thanks to you.’ You shot back. ‘I’m fine. Just go back to the bar.’

‘Short sentences meaning you’re fuming-’

‘- I’m about to be well past that point.’ You cut him off. ‘Go back. Don’t worry about me.’

‘I wanted to talk to you anyways.’ He admitted. 

‘About what?’

‘About what you said back there.’ Poe replied. ‘I genuinely meant what I said. I don’t want you to not try things with that new guy because of me.’

‘Poe, I-’

‘- I mean it.’ He continued. ‘I just wanted you to know.’ 

‘Wanted me to know what?’ You murmured. ‘That I need your permission to date other people?’

‘No, that’s not what I’m saying.’ He frowned at your words. ‘I just...I mean that I wanted you to know that it’s okay if you don’t love me anymore.’

Well if that wasn’t like a knife through the fucking chest, you didn’t know what was. 

What hurt more? The fact he was officially letting you go, or the fact he thought you were even capable of falling out of love with him? Because that, you weren’t. Poe might have been the most stubborn, most annoying, most chaotic person you knew but he was everything. Everything you wanted and everything you needed - but everything you couldn’t have. You were two parts of a screwed up whole. Bad apart, but probably even worse off together. It was pretty fucked up of whoever was in the sky that they’d put you both in the galaxy at the same time. Existing without him was less painful than existing in a world where you couldn’t be together. 

‘Poe...’ your voice was small, a tiny crack appearing in the middle of his name. 

‘Me being an ass is just a defence mechanism.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘And I’m sorry.’

‘I haven’t fallen out of love with you.’ You ignored his apology. 

‘Like I said, it’s okay.’ He shook his head. ‘I can see it in your eyes.’

‘If you think you can see it in my eyes then you clearly don’t know me at all.’ Your voice shook, but you managed to throw the accusation at him. An admirable trait, surely. 

‘I don’t think I do.’ He admitted. ‘Not anymore.’

--

The next morning, Poe was sat in the canteen. He didn’t normally rise so early on weekends, but thanks to your discussion the night before, sleep had alluded him. 

Instead, he was staring aimlessly at his whole bowl of oatmeal. He’d been stirring it around for the better of an hour, thinking of nothing but you. He thought it was sweet of you to have rejected his claims of love (or lack thereof) but nothing you could have said would have made him believe you. It all stemmed down to the fact that he’d spent so long convincing himself of it. If he truly believed - or at least thought he believed - that you didn’t love him anymore, then he wouldn’t fool himself to having false hope, He was more likely to force himself to pull his head out his backside and move on. It was less painful that way, to rip it off like a bandaid. There was no hope if there was no love. Both of those things were and few these days. 

Poe jumped out of his exhausted, self-inflicted trance when something slammed on the table in front of him. He practically jumped out of his seat, oatmeal flying everywhere as he let out a yelp. He was about to open his mouth and yell, to cry in vain of his airborne breakfast, but he immediately stopped when he saw you staring down at him. 

‘Do you really think I stopped loving you?’

He huffed. ‘I’m not having this conversation with you.’

‘Yes, you are.’ You snapped. ‘Answer the question, Poe. Do you really think I stopped loving you?’

‘What’s this?’ He asked, eyes falling onto the piece of paper resting atop the table. 

‘Do you remember a few weeks ago when I went on that mission to Nevarro?’ You asked. 

‘Uh, yeah.’ Poe scratched the back of his hair. ‘That dangerous one.’

‘Yeah, the dangerous one.’ You placed one leg over the bench seat opposite him, dropping down onto the table with a thud. ‘I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it back.’

‘None of us were.’

‘This is a letter I asked Leia to give to you in case I died.’ You slid it across to him. ‘You should give it read.’

‘What are you doing?’ Poe sighed. 

‘I’m proving a point, Dameron.’

‘Yeah, you’ve always been good at that.’ He snatched the letter from you, pulling it open. ‘You just gonna stare at me the whole time that I read this?’

‘Yup.’

Another sigh escaped his lips as he tore it open, eyes briefly scanning the page for a moment. His brow furrowed - was it possible to feel like words were punching you in the throat?

Poe, 

If you’re reading this, it’s either because I’m dead or M.I.A, or you’ve been snooping through Leia’s desk draw in search of that damned Coruscanti candy again. If it’s the latter, put this fucking down. Because it means I’m alive, and I’ll find you and throttle you. If it’s because of the first one, then keep reading, because it means I’m gone. Turns out that I only act immortal. 

I should preface this by saying that I’m sorry. Sorry that we didn’t get to be together again and sorry that I didn’t try harder to make it happen. Please know that it’s what I wanted more than anything. You probably already know it, but I never stopped loving you. I died loving you (hopefully in a bad-ass way) and because death is, rather unfortunately, a permanent state, it means that I’ll love you forever. 

I’m only being bold with my words because I know you won’t be around for me to be embarrassed by how soft you’ve made me, but you’re my best friend. My other half and my whole world. You made me feel safe and loved and by all intents and purposes, you are my home. Whoever ends up getting to marry you - because you will find someone; the galaxy is a large place and there is another person out there who will find your annoying ass to be rather charming - is the luckiest fucking person ever. I’m just sorry that I can’t be there to watch it happen, and even more sorry that it couldn’t be me. 

Love you always, flyboy 

- (name) 

p.s I have a cactus on my window ledge. Can you water it for me? Thanks. 

Poe’s eyes were bleary with tears by the end - at the thought of you dying, at the thought of him being the last person you thought of before you went on that mission. The mission that he’d sent you on, as your Commander. He’d caused you grief without even trying. 

‘That mission was two weeks ago.’ He looked up at you, not even bothering to hide the water in his eyes. ‘You wrote this two weeks ago.’

‘Yeah.’ You quietly murmured. Giving a small nod, you stood up from the table and wiped your own eyes. ‘You should hold onto that.’

‘W-where are you going?’

‘I have work to do.’ You stood up. ‘Goodbye, Poe.’

'For now or forever?’ He tried to force a joke, but it didn’t really work in his favour.

‘You had a point in what you said.’ You replied. ‘We should both move on.’ 

His eyes fell back down to the letter, where a few scrawled words jumped out at him: I’ll love you forever.

Until now, he hadn’t considered the fact that forever was still forever, even when you spent it apart. 

tags: @interwebseriesfan24​ @spider-starry​ @itspdameronthings​ @lifeandloveandhappiness​ 

[sunlit-squid]

I don't care about everyone else! i care about you, SQUIDWARD! (simping softness asks)

For those who don’t know, my ask box is open. Send me a simping softness prompt, and I’ll write a short sbsp ficlet for you. ✰

so, uh -- i might have gotten a bit carried away with this prompt. it’s definitely longer than a ficlet, but oh well. either way, it was a lot of fun to write! selfish spongebob is so rarely explored.

fic under the cut. also, just in case, cw: drinking, drunkenness, etc.

Spongebob rose bright and early, long before his foghorn alarm went off at 7:00 a.m. With a cheerful shout, the poriferan jumped out of bed, earning a disgruntled “mrow” from Gary, who was still asleep nearby. Stretching vigorously, the sponge leaned down, planting a soft kiss atop the snail’s shell.

“Gary,” he whispered, practically vibrating with excitement. “Today’s the day!”

Turning away, Gary simply replied “mrow”, in a disdainful way that most certainly meant “whatever.”

Undeterred, Spongebob ran to his calendar. Sure enough, the day’s date -- July 14th -- was circled in bright-red, permanent marker, with the words “My birthday!” written neatly across it. And just below those words, was a tiny drawing of Squidward’s face, with dozens of little red hearts surrounding it.

Making his way over to the window, Spongebob gazed out at Squidward’s moai in the distance. He sighed, dreamily. What was Squidward doing right now? Probably sleeping, in that adorable dress of his.

The sponge lingered there, staring dazedly out at the moai, for perhaps a moment too long. Then, remembering himself, he sprinted to the bathroom. Once inside, Spongebob pointed a finger at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Enough beating around the bush, Mr. Squarepants!” he yelled -- much to Gary’s annoyance. The sponge lowered his voice down to a soft whisper. “Today, you tell him how you feel.”

His reflection simply shrugged. “I mean, okay,” it said. “But this is like, the 57th time you’ve said this.”

“Oh, shush.”

-0-

The party was supposed to start at 6:30, but Spongebob, in a manic cleaning fit, had the entire house ready by noon. This year, the party was themed around As The Tide Turns, a very polarizing-but-popular soap opera, especially in Bikini Bottom. If you were a Bikini Bottomite, you either watched the show genuinely, or ironically -- there was absolutely no in-between.

Spongebob and Squidward both genuinely enjoyed the show. It was one of the first things they bonded over, back when Spongebob started working at the Krusty Krab. Through the window to the galley, the two coworkers would talk for hours about the show, and whatever drama was center-stage for that season.

It got to a point where Mr. Krabs -- who only watched ATTT ironically -- got on them both, for shirking their duties.

“If yer gonna flirt,” he’d said, “do it on yer own time.”

So, Spongebob started coming over to Squidward’s house on Friday nights, when the new episodes would air. In fact, even when the show was between seasons, Spongebob still came over, just to watch reruns. It was one of the few times Squidward would (begrudgingly) let Spongebob inside, with no complaints.

Spongebob hummed softly to himself, his eyes scanning the small clipboard in front of him. Food, decorations, party games … Check, check, and check. Everything was present and accounted for -- and he had to admit, the house looked spectacular.

Every room was themed around a different, iconic arc in the ATTT series. His living room, filled with chalk drawings, crime scene tape, and red-string boards, was inspired by the murder mystery arc. His kitchen, decorated with leftover Halloween gear, was inspired by the vampire arc … and so on and so forth. Each and every room had its own particular, careful design -- and in all, it was probably Spongebob’s most intricate and detailed party to date.

That was because it had to be. Spongebob had a plan, a carefully detailed plan -- one that was sure to sweep Squidward Tentacles right off his … er, tentacles. And it went like this:

Squidward and Spongebob’s favorite arc, in all 42 seasons of As The Tide Turns, was the murder mystery. In the arc, the dashing Detective Heartthrob, accompanied by his sidekick-slash-lover Joey, must bring a heinous mass murderer to justice. At the climax, it is revealed that Detective Heartthrob is the true killer -- having been hypnotized by a witch, who was also his evil twin sister, for some reason. In the end, Joey must kill Detective Heartthrob, in a tragic display of love and sacrifice.

The season was thrilling, silly, and emotionally traumatizing, to boot. For months after the finale, Squidward and Spongebob would not shut up about it -- much to the annoyance of Mr. Krabs.

Either way, Spongebob had set up an elaborate, original mystery game, inspired by the events of the show. Each attendee would get a “random” card, assigning them a different role in the story. Squidward would be Detective Heartthrob, and Spongebob would be Joey.

Together, they would embark on an original mystery, one that Spongebob had devised all by himself. After he and Squidward solved the mystery together, and the party was over … Spongebob would finally, finally confess his feelings.

Of course, Spongebob had, more or less, rigged the game to ensure this would happen. Which was cheating, sure, but this was for love! So it couldn't possibly go wrong.

-0-

It went wrong. Almost immediately, in fact.

For one, the party started at 6:30 -- and, nearly two hours later, Squidward had yet to show up. Spongebob spent those first two hours lingering by the door, staring out the window towards the moai, and forgetting to refill the punch bowl. Sandy, ever the observant one, noticed immediately.

Pulling Spongebob aside, she asked, in a hushed voice, “Hey, partner. You good?”

“Oh, I’m -- I’m great!” chirped Spongebob, putting on his worst, most unconvincing smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Uh-huh,” said Sandy, flatly. “This about Squidward?”

Spongebob blushed, immediately. The squirrel sighed.

“I thought so,” she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest. “Did he say he was gonna come?”

The sponge nodded. “He said, ‘I’ll see if I can make it work’, which in Squidward-speak, is practically a yes!” groaned Spongebob, staring up at Sandy with his huge baby blue eyes. “He’ll come, right, Sandy?”

Sandy hesitated. She didn’t really know Squidward that well … but he did seem to have a soft spot for Spongebob. Awkwardly, she replied, “I mean … I can’t say for sure, but he did say he would try. Let’s be patient, okay, Spongebob? Maybe he just got caught up with something.”

Spongebob sighed, then repositioned his face into its usual chipper smile. “Alrighty. You do usually know what’s best, Sandy.”

“I sure do,” she giggled. “Oh, and Spongebob?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t cut his cable this time,” she said, before walking off to get more punch.

-0-

By 9:30, the party started to go a bit haywire. At this point, practically all of Bikini Bottom was at Spongebob’s house, except for Squidward -- and Larry thought it would be a great idea to play Truth Or Dare: Extreme Edition. The rules were pretty much the same as Truth Or Dare: Standard Edition, but with one exception: each subsequent truth or dare had to be more extreme than the last.

It started off alright. A few people were dared to take off their pants, or do a somersault down Conch Street while blindfolded. However, as the game progressed, the stakes grew astronomically. At one point, Patrick was dared to eat half of Spongebob’s pineapple. Later, Sandy was dared to juggle three of Plankton’s bombs, while riding a unicycle. Even later, Larry and Mr. Krabs were dared to switch shells and wrestle -- which wasn’t really destructive. Just disturbing.

The dares were stupid, but if there was one thing Bikini Bottomites had, it was a complete lack of common sense. Or any sense, really.

It certainly didn’t help that as the night progressed, the partygoers grew more and more … inebriated. The punch itself was non-alcoholic, but apparently, Karen and Plankton had taken it upon themselves to bring their own alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

By 10:30, Squidward still hadn’t shown up yet. Several people had either passed out or thrown up. And the pineapple was a complete disaster.

Spongebob sighed. He was seated on his living room sofa now, watching as the partygoers reveled inside (and outside) his home. Of course, the sponge was happy they were enjoying themselves -- but this day was supposed to be about him, and … well, nothing had gone as planned. His entire house was destroyed, it would take days to clean up the mess -- and Squidward hadn’t even bothered to show up! The nerve.

“Hey Patrick,” muttered Spongebob, waving a tired yellow hand at his drunken best friend.

Immediately, the starfish stumbled over to him, drink in hand. “Wha… haha … whasss’ up, Spunchblarb?” he slurred.

Spongebob pointed to the drink in Patrick’s hand. “Could I have that?”

Patrick grinned widely. “Yeeeeeahh! Now -- now, yer talkin’, buddy!” And with that, the starfish handed Spongebob his first drink of the night.

-0-

About three drinks in, Spongebob Squarepants was well and truly intoxicated. Which was nice, in a way. Now, the world was a weird, misty haze, and he didn’t have to worry about his pineapple being destroyed, or his party being ruined, or Squidward, or whatever. Now, he could just be peacefully drunk and stupid, just like everybody else in his house. Blissfully unaware of the world around them.

As the night went on, Spongebob began losing track of time. What time was it? Midnight? 3:00 a.m.? Did it even matter?

Over the course of one very stupid evening, Spongebob made more than a few bad decisions. For one, he bought like, ten mops online. Which was both counterproductive (he was a sponge) and financially irresponsible (he was also a frycook). Later, the sponge swam to the surface of the ocean to see how long he could breathe without water. He fainted within the first ten seconds, and had to be retrieved by Larry. After that, the night became a dizzying blur. Spongebob was certain he had been driving, at one point, and also dancing, and maybe singing?

Either way, several hours later, Spongebob was still dancing in his living room, a lampshade stuck on his head, when he felt something on his shoulder. Turning woozily, the sponge tried to get into “kara-tay” position, and ultimately failed.

“Who -- what -- stay back! I’m warning you!” shouted the sponge. “I know … er, kar .. karat … carrots?”

There was a familiar sigh, then a soft chuckle. “Oh, you moron,” came a voice, a voice that Spongebob loved so dearly, even in this drunken state. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Squ … squib … ?”

“Yeah,” said Squidward, wrenching the lampshade off of Spongebob’s head. “It’s me. Sorry I’m late.”

Spongebob looked up at Squidward -- and in his inebriated, hazy stupor, he couldn’t take it. He loved him so much, and for so long. It hurt. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “Squi -- Squidward, you -- you came,” the sponge stammered, his bottom lip quivering. “I -- I didn’t think …”

“Hush,” said Squidward, looking around the room. “This is, uh … wow, you really had a rager, huh? I didn’t think you had it in you, Spongebob.”

Stepping away, Squidward began picking up random items off the floor -- the punch bowl, some photographs, and a spilled carton of milk. The octopus had to step over and around several bodies, which were lying passed out on Spongebob’s floor.

“Listen, I’m gonna try and find a way to get everyone home,” said Squidward, sifting his way through the pile of garbage and bodies. “Everyone else is knocked out -- ”

Spongebob had had it. He’d had enough. He’d planned out this whole day perfectly, just for Squidward to not show up, for his whole house to be demolished in the chaos. Sure, he was glad everyone had a good time, but deep down, Spongebob was a little selfish, and deep down --

“I don’t care about everyone else!” shouted Spongebob, clenching his fists at his sides. “I care about you, Squidward!”

Squidward, startled, nearly dropped everything he was holding -- and before he could properly respond, Spongebob fell over, unconscious.

-0-

For once, Spongebob didn’t wake up to the sound of his foghorn. Instead, he woke up to the sound of the television nearby. Very soft dialogue wafted its way over to the sponge, bathing him in its pleasant familiarity.

“Why, Joey, I think you’re right -- the killer is closer than we seem to think!”

“Then we best get cracking, Detective Heartthrob!”

Groaning, Spongebob sat up -- a dull, throbbing pain coursing through his skull. Dear Neptune. What happened last night? There was the party, the drinking, and … Squidward, maybe? Spongebob felt his heart drop at the thought of his neighbor, and sighed. He hadn’t gotten to tell Squidward how he felt. Attempt 57 had failed. Miserably.

Blinking slowly, the sponge looked around, and with surprise noted that his bedroom was not a mess, like it had been during the party. In fact, it was squeaky clean. The only thing out of place was the living room television, which had been moved to the end of Spongebob’s bed. The TV was playing an old rerun of As The Tide Turns, from the murder mystery arc. A smile tugged at Spongebob’s lips. How ironic.

Wait a minute. Who moved the TV?

Just then, there were footsteps on the stairs -- the tell-tale pat-pat-pat-pat of someone with four legs. Squidward. He was still here! Steeling himself, Spongebob sat at attention, gripping the blankets tightly.

When Squidward entered, he was holding a tray of food and wearing a long pink apron. When he saw that Spongebob was now conscious, the octopus jumped, nearly dropped the food, then steadied himself just in time.

“Squidward!” said Spongebob, cheerily. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here, you nitwit,” muttered Squidward. “Who else was gonna clean up that messy party of yours?”

Squidward crossed the room to place the food tray on Spongebob’s nightstand. Once there, the octopus shoved a glass of water and two pills into the poriferan’s hands, with one simple command: “Drink.”

Spongebob did so, gratefully. Then, he asked, “The party … what all happened?”

“I don’t know, but it was a mess,” sighed Squidward. “I’m pretty sure half the town was completely passed out by the time I got here. I’m surprised the cops didn’t get involved.”

“Oh,” said Spongebob, feeling very guilty all of a sudden. “Did -- did everyone get home okay?”

“Yeah,” said Squidward. “Listen, don’t -- don’t worry about it, okay? I took care of everything. Your house is clean, Gary is fed, everyone got home. That’s all.” Squidward’s cheeks were stained red.

Spongebob smiled, his heart jumping happily in his chest. “Thank you, Squidward.”

After a moment of silence, Squidward brought the food tray up to Spongebob’s lap. “You should … you should eat that,” he muttered, then took a deep breath. “Look, I … I’m sorry I was so late, alright? The truth is, I … I got caught up.”

With a mouthful of food, Spongebob asked, “Wif whaf?”

Squidward grimaced. “You’re disgusting,” he snapped, then looked away, blushing brightly. “Anyway, I … was trying to get ahold of your birthday present. It was supposed to be delivered here, to Conch Street, yesterday -- but I guess there was a mix-up, and it was instead delivered to Conch Road, which is … in an entirely different town. Several hours away.”

Spongebob blinked. “You drove all the way to get it?”

Squidward scowled. “Whatever,” he snapped, pulling a small red present box from beneath Spongebob’s bed. “Either way, it’s here. So, I guess … open it, maybe.”

Shoveling down the rest of his food (much to Squidward’s disgust), the sponge quickly shredded the pristine red wrapping paper to reveal -- a boxed set of the entire As The Tide Turns series. The extended edition, with all the bonus scenes and commentary tracks. And to top it all off -- the box was signed by the stars of the show.

Spongebob looked up at Squidward, eyes shimmering with shock and awe. “Squidward, this is -- this is amazing, I thought they didn’t sell these anymore!”

“Oh, trust me,” said Squidward, shuddering. “You have no idea what I had to do to get my hands on that.”

“Let me guess,” said Spongebob, holding up two yellow hands to form finger-guns. In his best Joey impression, the sponge said, “You had to kill a lotta folks, didn’t ya, Detective Heartthrob?”

Squidward chuckled immediately. In one suave motion, he leaned against Spongebob’s bed, and pointed a finger-gun of his own. In his best Detective Heartthrob impression, the octopus replied, “I did, and I don’t regret it at all, Joey!”

The two laughed for a good long while. Then, suddenly embarrassed once more, Squidward looked away. Taking a deep breath, the octopus said, “Look, Sponge, I -- last night, you said something kinda weird, and I wanted to know if -- if maybe --”

“Huh?”

“You said -- you only cared about me, not anyone else, and I -- I wanted to ask,” stammered Squidward, “... what exactly … you meant by that.”

Spongebob’s eyes widened. Oh, barnacles. Did he really say that? Well … there was no hiding it now. Gripping his sheets tight, Spongebob steeled himself for what was to come. “It means I … I wanna keep hanging out with you, Squidward,” said the sponge, staring down at his yellow knuckles. “I wanna hang out with you more than anyone else.”

Squidward swallowed, hard. “Sponge, what are you saying?”

Spongebob looked up. Their eyes met. “I like you,” said the sponge, smiling nervously. “A … a lot.”

A long moment of silence passed. Spongebob’s heart hammered furiously at his chest. Then, Squidward sighed, and picked up the ATTT boxed set. Walking over to Spongebob’s TV, the octopus inserted the first disc, grabbed the remote, and returned to Spongebob’s side.

Lifting the blankets, the octopus said, “Scooch over.”

Spongebob blinked, then did as instructed. “Why?” he asked.

“You really are an idiot,” muttered Squidward, climbing into bed with him. “It’s a Sunday, the Krusty Krab is closed, and we have a whole boxed set to watch together. Might as well start now.”

Spongebob smiled, happily. “So -- so you -- ”

Squidward rolled his eyes. “If you must know, yes, I … I like you,” he snapped. “I’m not gonna drive halfway across the ocean floor for just anybody, you know.”

Spongebob grinned stupidly. “I guess not.”

With that, the show began, its melodramatic theme tune echoing pleasantly across Spongebob’s pineapple home. And just below the bed, Gary let out a soft, contended meow -- which almost certainly meant “finally.”

-0-

References:

The line about cutting Squidward’s cable is a reference to the episode “Party Pooper Pants”, in which Spongebob cuts Squidward’s cable to get him to come over for a party.

[lovely-ateez]

Silver Nights With You~

ꕥPosted: 12/18/20

ꕥGenre: College!au, Christmas Imagine, Fluff, Angst & Smut (You know it’s gonna end happy, I’m a sap)

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Mingi

ꕥSummary: You get stuck in a cabin with Mingi and shit goes down( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

ꕥWord Count: ~4.9k (Holy shit I’ve never written this much before I am so sorry)

ꕥWarnings: Angst, Thigh riding, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it my dudes), Praise (m & f receiving),

ꕥA/N: This is the most angst I will ever write, I was genuinely on the brink of tears while writing this because I honestly can’t stand people being sad. Anyway this literally took me days to write and I really hope you all like it :)

ꕥTagging: @raysanshine​

“It’s fucking cold.” I took a sip of my hot cocoa, burying myself deeper in the mountain of blankets on my lap, glancing at the snow falling outside.

Wooyoung scoffed and spread his arms along the back of his couch, “It’s December, of course it’s gonna be cold.”

I turned back to him, “Okay, yeah, but I’m still gonna complain about it.”

“You complain about everything.”

“That is a gross over-exaggeration that portrays me in an unfair light and, frankly, you should be ashamed.”

My closest friend smiled, showing his slight dimples. His eyes drifted to my own, smile fading slightly. “What do I have to do for you to join us? Even for an hour or so?”

I sighed. Wooyoung had been bothering me about coming to our friend Yunho’s annual Christmas party for days now, but I simply wasn’t in the mood.

“I’d rather not go at all.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

A year ago at the same party, my boyfriend Mingi broke up with me. It wasn’t a bad breakup, but it still hurt. He was set to study abroad for the next year and it just made the most sense to him, he told me. So who was I to stand in the way of his dreams? We decided to cut contact shortly after, it being too painful for us to even have small talk. We hadn’t talked since.

I’d spent the following year in a limbo, trying my hardest to enjoy my newfound independence, but ultimately failing, my thoughts somehow finding their way back to Mingi. Everything reminded me of him.

Rainy days made me think of the way he loved to dance with me in the rain, spinning me and smiling wide, warm raindrops messing up our hair. Sunny days made me think of the times we’d both take off work to have picnics, making wishes on dandelions. Stormy days made me think of how we’d cuddle up to one another and watch a trash movie, making fun of the characters’ bad choices. He was a part of me. He always would be. I suppose two years of dating does that. I suppose they take a part of you with them, too.

I told myself I healed. I told myself I was over him. But deep, deep down I knew I wasn’t. Part of me never would be.

“He won’t be there this year, if that helps at all.”

I remained silent, refusing Wooyoung a response, looking down at the carpet.

“I get it. I know what you’re going through. It really wasn’t that long ago that Aisha broke up with me.”

My eyes darted up. Wooyoung hadn’t talked about their breakup with me yet. I refused to push him, knowing he was still in pain and that he’d tell me when he was ready.

“It was for the best but I can’t pretend like I’m gonna move on soon. We were dating for a year and a half for god’s sake.” He let out a bitter laugh and turned to me, “I know it’s tough, but would you do it for me? Please come.”

“Okay.”

-

The high shrill of a female voice rang out through my phone, leading me to pull the device away from my ear.

“I knew Wooyoung could get you to change your mind!”

“Arin I get that you’re excited, but I’m gonna go deaf if you keep yelling.”

“Ack I’m sorry! I’m just so excited to see you! It’s been, what? Five months since I saw you last?”

“Yeah something like that.”

“Well anyways, I know it’s probably tough for you but I really appreciate you going. I know everyone else will, too.”

I tried to push down the longing I felt for Mingi, remembering the previous year in far too much detail.

“Yeah it’ll be nice to see them.”

“Okay I hate to cut it short but my boss might actually fire me if he finds me on my phone again.”

“You’re literally dating him. There’s no way in hell he’d fire you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Shh not so loud!”

I rolled my eyes, knowing I was speaking no louder than usual.

“Alright. Take care then. I’ll see you at the party.”

“Yep! Love you, girly!”

“Love you, too. See ya.”

My phone beeped, signaling the end of the call.

I checked the calendar hanging on the wall of my bedroom. Three more days till the party and I was dreading it more and more.

A knock at the door startled me and I made my way over, opening the door to find Wooyoung standing before me with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? Can’t a guy just drop by to say hello to his best friend?”

“He can, but you only do when you’re up to something. What is it this time?”

“Nothing! Scout’s honor!” He lifted a hand to make the famous three-fingered salute. 

“You were never a boy scout, dumbass.”

Wooyoung brought a hand to his chest, mocking offense, “I’ll have you know that I simply brought flowers over as a thank you for agreeing to come with us.”

“Aww really? Do you wanna come in?”

“Yeah, really. But nah I can’t stay, I just wanted to drop them off.”

“You’re sweet.”

A cocky smile formed on his face, “I know.”

He passed the flowers over to me, giving me a hug and saying his goodbyes. I watched him walk to his car, a little skip in his step, wondering how anyone could let him go.

-

I grabbed my warmest jacket and walked out to my car. Today was the day I’d been dreading for weeks. Today was the day I’d have to put on a brave face and pretend I was alright. I mentally hyped myself up as I slid into the driver’s seat.

You’ll be okay. You’re strong. You can do this.

Snow was already starting to fall and I made a mental note to be careful. After all, Yunho’s cabin was roughly an hour away.

As I drove, the snow began to fall much faster, leaving me no choice but to feel concerned. My car didn’t have four-wheel-drive and what if my car got stuck? I was only fifteen minutes away but in snow like this with such a low temperature, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk the rest of the way.

The sun had already begun to set and seeing the road becoming much harder. Only four more minutes with the current speed I was going. I could make it.

Of course, the universe wasn’t having it and my car broke down almost immediately after I had the thought.

“Fuck.”

I panicked for a brief moment, trying to start up my car with no success.

Wait. My phone.

Grabbing my phone at rapid speed, I found it out of battery.

“I literally just charged it what the hell?”

I tried my best to cope with the fact that I had no choice but to walk the rest of the way. Taking a deep breath, I opened my car door and braced for the cold wind.

Trudging through the snow storm, I felt my ears and hands begin to hurt from the cold. I could barely see where I was going, having to rely on remembering where the cabin was based on the times I had been there prior.

Eventually I spotted a cabin in the distance and kept going, feeling myself lose heat with every step.

Finally, I climbed up the stairs and reached the main doorway.

I knocked loudly against the large wooden door, silently pleading for someone to answer. After waiting a few seconds with no response I tried to turn the door knob, grateful to find it unlocked. 

I pushed the door open and entered, quickly closing it behind me. Warm air rushed over me and I never felt so thankful for indoor heating. The inside looked the same as it always did; the main door lead to the living room which had the same snow globes above the fireplace as always, the same Christmas decorations scattered throughout, and the Christmas tree in the same corner as usual.

I shivered and moved to find a blanket when I saw a tall figure enter the living room. I looked up, feeling my heart drop. Standing before me was the one man that I didn’t want to be here.

Mingi’s eyes widened and mouth opened, looking at me with surprise. It seemed both of us were frozen, unable to do anything other than look at one another.

His rich chestnut hair was longer than when I saw him last, it was parted in the center, reaching his eyes. He was wearing a fitted green sweater that complimented his honey skin and tight ripped jeans. I refused to allow myself to acknowledge how attractive he truly looked. I refused to tell myself how much I missed him and how I wanted nothing more than to jump in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” I managed to say, hating how timid my voice sounded. It’s because of the cold, I thought.

He seemed to come out of his trance, “I could ask you the same.”

“I’m here for the Christmas party.”

Mingi gave me a confused look. “The party isn’t until the twenty third.”

Annoyed, I narrowed my eyes, “It is the twenty third.”

He raised a brow and took his phone from his pocket, turning it to me, ‘December 19th’ it read.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I huffed, moving to sit down on the couch while running my hands along my arms for some sort of warmth. Mingi noticed immediately and left the room only to bring back several thick blankets.

I removed my jacket and wrapped the blankets around me as tight as I could.

“My car broke down a while back and my phone is dead. Is there anyone here that could give me a ride?” I didn’t want to spend more time with him than I had to. It hurt too damn much.

Mingi gave an apologetic smile, “I’m the only one here, actually.”

I gave the man a confused look, “Why are you here?”

“My second semester ended so I’m no longer studying abroad. I came back to visit friends but didn’t have a place to stay so Yunho has let me stay here for a few days.” He was silent for a few seconds before adding, “I was gonna leave before the party I-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s fine.”

Silence.

“I would take you home if I could, but my car is being fixed right now so it isn’t here. We could call someone maybe if that-”

“Yeah that’s fine. Can I borrow your phone?”

He nodded and handed it over. I didn’t notice it when he showed me his phone before, but his lock screen was different. It shouldn’t have hurt to see that it changed from a selfie of us to a picture of him with friends I assume he made abroad. It shouldn’t have. It had been a year, I should be over him.

I opened his phone without needing a password and tried to hide a smile. He never had a password in all the time I’d known him.

Good to know some things never change.

I dialed Wooyoung’s number and pressed the call button.

“We are sorry, but at this time your service provider is out of range. Please-”

Great.

I handed back his phone, “You don’t have any signal.”

“That’s odd, we always have service here...Do you wanna charge your phone? Maybe you’ll have better luck?”

“Yeah.”

He left the room and I placed my head in my hands, trying to process seeing him for the first time in a year. He was devastatingly handsome and still as kind as always.

I really miss him, don’t I?

His voice started me, “Hand me your phone, I’ll plug it in for you.”

I passed my phone over, accidentally touching his warm hands and I felt a spark run through me which I did my best to ignore. With almost comical timing, just as Mingi reached a plug-in, the lights went out.

“Uhh...that’s not supposed to happen.”

I scoffed, “No kidding. Do we have a generator?”

“Honestly, I don’t think we do.” Mingi gave me a sad look, “It’s been snowing hard outside for hours so there’s no way we’ll be able to leave now. Even with a car.”

“Awesome. I love to hear that.”

“At the very least we’ve got food to last us a few days. We should be okay-”

“Do I look like I want to spend several days here?” I snapped.

He looked taken aback at my words and I felt a pang of regret in my chest.

“I’m not sure we have a choice.”

I hated to admit it, but he was right.

“Do you want any food?”

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“Are you hungry? I could make you something if you’d like.”

I thought for a moment. “Yeah, actually. If you don’t mind, anyway.”

Mingi shook his head, walking to the kitchen. I didn’t realize how hungry I really was until he mentioned it, so I didn’t care what he made for me.

Minutes later he placed a plate and cup on the coffee table in front of me.

My favorite sandwich and chips. He remembered.

It should have been considered kind, but it just broke my heart a bit further. It was a simple act, but it proved that he stored it in his memory.

He remembered.

“I hope it’s still your favorite. I got you your favorite lemonade, too.”

I nodded, trying to prevent tears from spilling.

“I’ll be honest, I’m not quite sure what to do.”

“Lighting the fireplace would probably be a good start.”

He laughed, “Ah you’re totally right. I’ll be back with a lighter, call out to me if you need anything.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Stuffing my face with the sandwich, I hummed. I always loved his sandwiches. There was something special about them, knowing that he made them for me, and this one was no different.

Mingi once again returned, this time with a lighter and a blanket, lighting the fire and sitting down on the couch across from me, wrapping himself in the blanket.

I couldn’t help but wonder how I possibly ended up in the current situation. Maybe the universe was out to get me. Who knows?

I took another bite of my sandwich, hoping I’d be able to leave soon.

-

I briefly glanced over at Mingi to find him on his phone.

Lucky. I wish I had mine so I wouldn’t be so damn bored.

The crackle of the fireplace was the only noise for what seemed like an hour. Neither one of us spoke. Growing tired of not doing anything, I stood and walked towards the fireplace to admire the snow globes. I noticed that behind the globes rested a photo album. I debated whether or not I should open it for the span of a few seconds before my curiosity got the best of me.

Opening it up, I saw pictures of all of our friends from the previous years of Yunho’s Christmas party. I began to walk back to the couch with my eyes on the book when I tripped, some of the pictures falling out. Mingi noticed and quickly rushed over to my side.

“Are you alright?” He was careful not to touch me, I noticed, but he was still right by my side.

“I’m fine, just help me pick these up.” I motioned towards the pictures scattered across the floor.

“Of course.”

We resumed our silence, picking the photos up and placing them back in the book. Noticing Mingi had stopped helping me I looked at him, prepared to make a quick jab at him for not helping, when I saw why he stopped.

In his hands he was holding a picture of the two of us kissing, dated two years prior.

I let out an empty chuckle, devoid of all humor, “I don’t know why that’s still there. Here,” I reached out to take the photo, “I’ll throw it away-”

“Don’t.” His response was immediate, taking me by surprise. He shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat, “I’d like to keep it.”

My heart felt like it stopped for a moment, hoping he missed us as much as I did.

“Why?” I asked.

Mingi smiled, still looking at the frozen image of the two of us. “Do you remember this day?”

“Of course I do.” My eyes began to water without me realizing, “That day was the first time you told me you loved me.”

His eyes found mine, sadness within them, “Yeah. Yeah it was.” His voice became horse as if he was fighting back tears.

“I didn’t want to let you go.”

“Then why did you?”

His eyes drifted down. “I was traveling halfway across the world for a year. I guess part of me thought you would meet someone else. I wanted to save myself the heartbreak in case you did.”

“I would’ve gladly stayed with you if you had asked. I have no desire to meet anyone else. Ever. You are the only one for me.” I froze, the realization of my words hitting me.

Mingi looked at me, “When I was abroad, I missed you every second of every day and I have missed you every second of every day since.” His hands cupped my face as if I was made of glass and a single tear fell down his cheek, causing my own tears to spill.

I was no longer able to speak, and so I did the only thing I could think of: I kissed him.

I kissed him with all the hurt that I felt after he left me. I kissed him with the deep love that I still felt for him. I kissed him with the fear that I’d lose him once again.

Our kisses soon grew heated, the photo album quickly forgotten, and I found my arms wrapped around his neck, hands running through his soft hair while his found their way to the bottom of my sweater, toying with it.

“Do you want this?” He growled, voice much deeper and raspier than before.

“Yes.”

With that, he pulled my sweater over my head, eyes scanning the red, lacy bra I was wearing.

His favorite.

Mingi chuckled, “This is still my favorite bra of yours.”

“I don’t know, I’ve got some new ones that are pretty hot.”

He let out a groan and began to leave kisses down my neck, setting my skin on fire.

I stopped him, needed to know one thing before we continued, “Did you...have you...since we last...?”

He smiled, “How could I? I’ve only ever been yours. Have you?”

I gave a slight smile, “No. No, I haven’t.”

I kissed him again and lifted his sweater, tossing it across the room. He had slightly defined abs when I was with him before, but they were far more prominent now. His arms were much more defined and it took all of my concentration to keep from drooling.

“Like what you see, doll?”

My voice was a borderline squeak, “Yes.”

“You still into praise, sweetheart?

I nodded, pulling on his jeans. Only slightly embarrassed with how eager I was.

“Not yet, baby.” Mingi easily lifted me to the couch and helped me remove my jeans. He grabbed my hips and placed me on his thigh, tightening his muscles as he dragged my clothed core across his own jeans. In mere seconds I became a quivering mess. I realized how truly long it had been since I’d been with anyone like this, and I had to admit I was needy.

“What a good girl you’re being for me. Aren’t you? You’re doing wonderfully, my love.”

I whimpered and pulled myself closer to him.

“Are you close, baby?”

I nodded, maybe too quickly, and felt my orgasm wash over me. I panted, already out of breath.

“Good girl.”

Bringing my lips to his I reached for his pants again and this time he helped me remove them. As I grinded down against him, he let out a deep growl.

“Let’s rid you of these, hmm?”

He eagerly removed my panties and bra and stared at me for a minute.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

I blushed fiercely. “You’re so incredibly handsome. Somehow even more so than when I saw you last.”

Mingi looked at me with a shy smile then resumed his actions. He removed his underwear and ran his length across my slit, teasing me slightly.

“Mingi, I need you.” I begged.

His eyes darkened and he entered me without hesitation. My back arched as he reached a steady pace and littered my neck with kisses, most likely leaving hickies, marking me as his.

I pulled his hair, bringing him closer to me. Mingi was always fairly vocal, but he could never get enough of me pulling his hair, always moaning in response.

He reached down and toyed with my clit, causing sparks to fly through me.

“Fuck—babe don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t—shit—planning on it, doll.”

Both of us quickly reached our high, cumming at the same time. I pressed a hand against his chest as I caught my breath.

“You’re still really, really good at that.”

Mingi laughed, “You are too, sweetheart. Oh wait-”

He got up and returned with a warm towel, cleaning me up and looking at me fondly.

“You’re cute.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingi smiled, placing the towel aside,“Now, how about we get under some blankets? We’ll feel cold soon enough.”

I nodded and began to put my undergarments on, reaching for my sweater.

“I think not.” He said, now with his pants on, handing me his own sweater which I gladly took.

“You look hella good in my clothes, miss.”

I giggled at his choice of words, feeling happiness bubble in my chest for the first time in a long time.

“You look hella good without a shirt, mister.”

Mingi raised a brow and ticked my sides, making me squeal.

“I’ll fight you!” I yelled.

He stopped and rubbed his nose against mine, “Sorry I can’t help it. Your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world.”

“Shut up.” I laughed, feeling shy.

He placed arm around me, nuzzling my neck.

I turned to him, worry in my eyes, “I’m really sorry for lashing out at you earlier. That’s not like me.”

He smiled, “I know it’s not. But don’t worry about it, I understand. It’s a defense mechanism I guess.”

I cuddled up to him then realized I needed to use the restroom. I tried to get up when he pulled me closer to him.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Silly, I just have to use the restroom. I don’t want a UTI.”

He laughed aloud, “Fine but you better come right back.”

“I will,” I told him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before I walked away.

I soon looked in the mirror of the bathroom, observing my flushed cheeks and the wide smile I couldn’t seem to wipe off my face.

This girl looks happy. I think I can get used to seeing her in the mirror.

I returned and was instantly pulled back into his arms.

“I love you.”

I felt a tear run down my face, feeling beyond happy, “I love you, too. So much.”

I wasn’t sure when, but I felt my eyes began to droop, slowly falling asleep in the arms of the man I loved.

-

The day following, Mingi’s phone recieved signal and I was able to call Wooyoung. Apparently the power lines had fallen, everyone in the immediate area losing power. The nearest roads had been somehow cleared overnight and he’d be able to come pick me up.

“Wooyoung’s on his way over, apparently everyone lost power.”

“Hmm. well I, for one, am glad we did,” Mingi pulled me into a tight hug.

“Yeah, me too.”

A silence fell between us, but it was comfortable this time.

Mingi spoke up, his voice becoming playful, “I’m taking you on a date soon. There’s nothing you can do about, I’m afraid you cannot refuse.”

“As if I would refuse.”

“Mmm.” I didn’t think he could, but he pulled me even closer to him.

“Mingi you’re literally gonna break my bones.”

He let go of me, eyes wide, “Did I hurt you? Gosh I’m so sorry I can—”

“You didn’t hurt me you goof.”

“Oh good. You scared me.”

The honk of a car horn scared me and I jumped, Mingi hiding a smile.

“Call me if you need anything, okay? You’ve got my number.”

“Of course.” Giving him one last kiss before I bid him goodbye and left the cabin, hopping in Wooyoung’s car.

“Holy shit are you okay? Was anyone even home? My god I feel so bad—”

“Mingi was there.”

Wooyoung’s face froze, quickly turning into a scowl, “I swear if he did anything to you—”

“No, don’t worry about it. We’ve made up,” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

He didn’t say anything, he only stared at me before he spoke again, “You two totally fucked, didn’t you?”

“Wooyoung!” I slapped his arm in shock.

“You didn’t deny it!”

“Oh shut up. Just take me home.”

He playfully rolled his eyes and put the car in drive.

“Just so you know, I’m happy for you. I get why he did it but I am still a little pissed. I swear to fucking god if he breaks your heart again I will actually break his knee caps.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it. I wouldn’t worry to much about it, though.”

“If you insist, okay.”

“I do.”

-

December twenty third. The day that I had been dreading once, now one that I had been very much looking forward to. I checked my makeup and outfit once more before texting Mingi.

Me: I’m ready whenever you are!

Mingi Mango: I’m outside :)

Me: Shit, already?

Mingi Mango: Language

I scoffed, grabbing my purse and running outside to meet him.

“Babyyyyyy!” Mingi yelled as he saw me.

“Mangoooo!” I yelled back, jumping into his arms.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Mingi it’s been two days.”

“But it feels like forever! You look absolutely stunning, by the way.”

“You cheese. You look really good yourself.”

“You know it,” Mingi winked and opened his passenger car door for me, “My lady.”

I was unable to keep from smiling, giving him a little kiss on the cheek and climbing into the car. The entire car ride was filled with lighthearted conversation, not a single silent moment between us.

“We’re here, doll.”

“Yes I see the cabin in front of us.” I teased him.

“Well just in case you didn’t I thought I’d let you know.” He laughed, eyes disappearing into crescents, and I felt my heart swell.

We held hands as we walked into the cabin, finding several pairs of eyes turning to us, then to our intertwined hands. I was pleased to find smiles on my friend’s faces, feeling happy that they were happy for us. Arin came running towards me at a seemingly inhuman speed and wrapped her arms around me.

“Ahhh how are you, girly? I’ve missed you so much! And you look gorgeous! I love that sweater on you! And your makeup! Wow! How’d you do that? Have you been eating well?”

“One question at a time, Arin.” I smiled.

“Sorry! I’m just so happy!”

"Me too!” I looked around, “Do you know where Wooyoung is?”

“Oh he’s out back with San. They’re having a competition to see who can build the better snowman.”

I shook my head with a smile.

At that moment she took a step back, looking at our hands. I had told her about Mingi and I dating again over the phone and she seemed happy for me, but I had to admit I was nervous to see her reaction in person.

“You,” She pointed a finger at Mingi, “If you hurt even a hair on her head I will actually fight you.”

Mingi’s eyed widened, assuring her that he would never hurt me.

She clapped her hands, “Well, good. Now that that’s over, do you all want a drink?” Arin cocked her head, the change in mannerisms throwing me a little.

“Yeah that’s fine.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back! Catch up with everyone you two!”

As if he was a ghost, Yunho appeared next to Mingi, scaring us both.

“Christ, Yunho. Give a man a warning first.”

“Sorry,” He chucked, “How are you both?”

“We’re doing well, thanks.”

“We’re happy.” Mingi turned to me and looked at me with heart eyes, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“You all are cute. Speaking of, you haven’t met Mia, have you?”

Mingi and I exchanged confused looks.

“No, I don’t believe so. Who’s that?”

“She’s my new girlfriend. We’ve been dating for a little over a month but if I’m being honest, I’m already head over heels for this girl.” Yunho turned, calling out to a girl surrounded by people, “Mia, can you come here?”

The short brunette walked over, a smile plastered on her face as she made eye contact with Yunho.

“I’d like you to meet my friends from high school.” He introduced us and she nodded, fully invested in the conversation.

“I’ve heard a lot about you both! I’m so excited to get to know you all better!”

I smiled at her enthusiasm, “Aww you, too!”

Arin walked over and handed Mingi and I our drinks, skipping off to meet another friend.

Yunho and Mia wondered off soon after, greeting more people coming in.

“Hey I’ve got something I wanna show you.” Mingi whispered in my ear.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Come with me.”

Before I knew it, Mingi was pulling me into a bathroom and locking the door.

“I know what you’re doing, Mango.”

“And what’s that?” He asked as he leaned down to reach my neck, kissing me gently, arms resting on my hips.

“We’re at a party.” I said, whining at him but doing nothing to stop him.

“I saw that couch when we walked in, you know? I’m never going to be able to look at it the same.”

“Me either.”

My head eventually won the fight I was having with myself, and I promised that if he could wait till he dropped me off I’d be all his. It seemed to appease him as he gave me one last kiss and led us out of the bathroom. Somehow, no one noticed and I was grateful, sure that my flustered expression would certainly give us away.

“Hey, look at this.”

My eyes moved in the direction Mingi was pointing, seeing a mistletoe directly above us.

“Oh you definitely planned that.”

“And if I did?”

“I’d kiss you all the same.”

Mingi bent down to kiss me, a hand on my face, another around my waist. As I wrapped my own hands around his neck, deepening the kiss, I couldn’t help but think that this was what true happiness felt like.

Thank you, Mingi. Thank you for giving me the greatest gift of your love. Merry Christmas, my love.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 165

Chapter Summary -Tom and Danielle go to Suffolk for their second anniversary as a couple. While there, Tom realises that Danielle has already gotten started on some of the wedding plans which results in them setting a date.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine. All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @damalseer​ @hiddlesbitch1​ @winterisakiller​ @fairlightswiftly​ @salempoe​ @wolfsmom1​ @black-ninja-blade​

Danielle bit her lips together as she felt herself reach her peak, forcing herself to not grip Tom’s hair too tightly as he made her feel so good. She gasped as the final waves of her orgasm were joined by a kiss that was given to her core before Tom crawled over her body, smiling cheekily as he came face to face with her. “I love you,” She smiled, feeling worn from their activities. “As I love you, my beautiful Elle.” He leant down and kissed her, not overly surprised when she leant up and deepened the kiss. “You are well and truly back to form,” He smirked as he forced their lips apart for a moment.

“Three times since we got here, that’s not bad by any accounts,” Danielle agreed.

They had decided to spend their second anniversary in Suffolk, away from the crowds of London and spending time with Diana. Tom brought Danielle for a lovely meal in Manzoni’s, the restaurant that led to the awkward first kiss of theirs and afterwards, insisted on kissing her on the doorstep, though this time, the kiss did not end there and he ensured she had an incredibly pleasurable evening after. Of late, after recovering from her Ironman, Danielle’s libido seemed to go back to her pre-training and pre-maternal urge norm, much to hers and indeed Tom’s delight.

The next morning led to slight bouts of sloth on their behalf before amourous attentions once more, leading them to almost lunchtime before they forcibly extracted themselves from the bed.

They were drinking tea as their porridge cooked when Diana knocked on the back door and entered. “Finally up, I see.” “We are embracing the holiday feeling,” Tom smirked back, going to the pot of tea they had decided would be a better idea to make and poured her a cup.

“How was Manzoni’s?” “That new chef you mentioned was working, you’re right, it’s even better now, somehow,” Danielle commented from the cooker.

“He is good, isn’t he?” Diana smiled. “So, have you two started talking properly yet?” Tom chuckled at his mother. “Are you just here to badger us about it?” “The sooner you plan it, the sooner it is planned.”

“You sound like Danielle when she is talking about her safety stuff.” Tom eyed his fiance warily as he said that. She gave him a warning glance with a slight smirk with it.

“And?” “We have decided on Ireland, in Elle’s parish church from her childhood. She explained it holds a really important place in her family and it is small and quaint and away from prying eyes. It will be lovely, so it makes a lot of sense.”

“How small?” “The maximum capacity is about a hundred plus people, nothing extravagant,” Danielle explained. “Doing approximate numbers for the church part of things, we are looking at around thirty under capacity but that’s good because we know we’re forgetting a few people.”

“Right, names are important, have you a list started?” “No,” Tom looked awkwardly.

Danielle left the room for a moment before returning with the backpack she had received for her Ironman, taking out a notepad she had in it. “I have all of my side and friends done. I have started your side too, but I know there is an aunt or uncle somewhere missing because the numbers aren’t right and I would wager you have a friend from school you will think to invite.”

Tom looked at her shocked at the organisation she had clearly put into the page of names, making notes who they were and of any conflicts, some may have, mostly referencing her aunt Bernie. “I...I was going to say I’m surprised, but no, how could I be, this is you through and through.

Danielle laughed at him. “I also took note that we will have to arrange buses from the airports and spoke to the local B&B, they will book out the dates of our choosing for us, if we give them a date soon, so I also called the parish office and got the dates the church is free on the timeline we are looking at, so we have to arrange that. I think we will have to go over a week or two in advance to ready the last of everything and for the marriage course, of course. Though, I booked that and flights for January, that gives time for your other commitments, Ace Con and whatnot.” She explained.

Tom simply stared at her in shock. He had asked had she looked into one or two things, thinking that perhaps she would begin preparation, he had not thought for one second she would be so thorough so quickly. “I...I feel somewhat unprepared in all of this.” “Course, what course?” Diana asked curiously.

“In Ireland, I am not sure if it is the same here, if you want to marry in a Catholic Church, you have to do a marriage course with Accord, it’s like this religious church-related family service, so I booked that. It’s nothing really, just preparing you for down the road, times of trouble, if you want kids, the usual marriage stuff. It’s more a box-ticking exercise really, though if you haven’t talked about this stuff before now or you haven’t had bad patches, are you really ready for marriage?” Danielle questioned.

“I think they are becoming something here, not obligatory, mind.”

“Well, they are at home and with our schedules, I thought it a good idea to plan it for then.” “What is on the cards to say you are both busy for that?” Diana asked curiously, always eager to know what her children were doing workwise. “I have a few things I will be involved in, going a few places, nothing too long, quick stops around Europe,” Danielle informed her. “Usually three to five day things and paperwork in between. And a trip to the US for a meeting or two, obviously.”

Diana nodded, knowing that there would be some form of plan such as this already before looking to her son. “I am doing a stint in one of Harold Pinter’s plays in London, Betrayal, as the name suggests, it is not the most cheerful of work but an interesting piece,” He explained.

“And are you the betrayer or the betrayed?” She asked curiously.

“I play the poor betrayed husband,” Tom pouted as he spoke.

“So plenty of confused and angry fans after this,” Danielle joked.

“I am glad you enjoy my torture.” Danielle stuck her tongue out at him playfully, causing him to chuckle. “I guess we better book a date so while we have a chance.”

“I guess we should.” A thought occurred to Tom. “What about that B&B?” “What do you mean?” “Well, they will have the dates.”

“Tom, I warned you before, Irish people are not the least bit bothered by this sort of thing and there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that a local run B&B from my hometown, with kids that went to school with me, who have used my dad’s vet practice since before I was born are going to give my wedding dates to some foreign shites trying to make money off us.”

“You are putting a lot of faith in people that you have not known really for at least a decade,” Tom warned, having had more than one person he thought he could trust show that his trust had been poorly placed in the past.

“It’s a way of life in Connemara and indeed most of the non-city areas of Ireland. You say nothing and deny all knowledge of other people’s business to non-locals, as I said it's a local family business and if they can't look after the locals, well, Ireland is the place that coined the phrase ‘boycott’. It's one thing to talk among ourselves but to outsiders, that's just not done.”

“So, you would threaten them?”

“Ironically, it would not be me or putting them as I don't live there anymore, it will be those local people that they call their friends, the local GAA people, the lads that went to the pub with my dad, the women that went to the dances with Mam. It’s just an unwritten rule you don't embarrass yourself or your family and you definitely do not bring a bad name to the parish. Whatever about the generation I'm from but my dad's generation, Mr O'Leary and his wife, they never would risk her name or insult their family in such a manner,” Danielle explained. “Sometimes the anonymity of the city has its advantages though, growing up we always knew what our neighbours were doing but at the same time we were always there for one another when it was needed.”

“Will they have a problem with those coming from England for it?” Tom asked.

“Why would they? We're bringing them paying customers, we’re not there to bother anyone. We don't automatically just decide to hate all British people, that's not an economically sound practice. We are just mildly suspicious as a default setting which is healthy really, all things considered.”

Tom knew before he even saw her face that Danielle was sticking out her tongue at her own playful comment. “Behave,” He warned her, his own playful smile evident. “What dates are available? The sooner I tell Luke the better.” Danielle went to the page where she had put all of the information the parish secretary has provided her with. Tom studied the dates as well as taking out his phone and checking the calendar and within 40 seconds, he placed an ‘X’ beside three of the dates.

“Are they the ones that are acceptable or are they ‘the never gonna happen’ dates?” Danielle asked curiously as she looked at the dates he had put the “x's” next to, all three were not dates that she could think of for particular reasons as being an issue.

“The latter.”

“Okay,  so we work off the rest.”

“What about you, are you available every one of these dates?” Tom asked, doubtful that Danielle could be free for the entirety of the summer.

“The ones I was not available for, which were two dates, I didn't even write down. One is the all branch AGM, and the other is my mother’s anniversary. I know she would want me to get married but I could probably pretty much guarantee that she would not appreciate me doing so on her anniversary.” “No, that goes without saying,” Tom agreed. He looked over the dates a little bit more, Danielle noticed that he checked his phone for a moment before putting an ‘X’ beside another date. As soon as she looked at it she realised which date it was, she laughed. Tom looked at her worried as to a reaction. Seeing her laugh, he decided to check verbally. “You don't mind?”

“Not at all. I don't think it bodes well to take one of your favourite days of sport in the year from you,” She laughed. “And it's the height of the GAA season, so I can guarantee there won't be a single pub, hotel bar or restaurant that will be showing that over whatever GAA fixture is on for the day.” She tussles hair as she spoke.

Tom took her hand and put it to his lips, kissing it gently at her respect for his favourite sports day. “If it was the only viable day?”

“You said it does not suit you and there are six other days that are free and available, it's a non-issue.” She looked at the dates again. “If we choose the date before that takes place, I would assume, unless we go on a honeymoon of six days, that does not suit either. So how about, this one?” She pointed to the weekend after the final. “That way you can watch it or go and we can be to Ireland after?” “But you said you want to come over a fortnight in advance?” “I’m sure you can slip away for a weekend.”

“No, it's too close and I'm not leaving everything to you.” Tom looked at the dates that came after if he was honest, he thought them too far away. So instead, he looked at the only other available date before. “How about the June date?” Danielle looked at the piece of paper for a moment. “That’s only eight months away. Jesus, that's a terrifying thought. Has it really been 3 months since you asked me?”

“Time flies when you're having fun.” Tom beamed. “If it's too close then that's fine.” “No, let's go with that one.” Tom looked up at her. “Elle, if you want to take time to think about it.” Danielle’s response was not to argue but to instead to take out her phone, scroll through the contacts and bring up the number she needed. “I think June to be the best.” She showed him the number she was about to ring and when he gave a small nod she pressed the call button.

It only took three minutes between the secretary answering the phone and Danielle pressing the end call button. “It’s official, we are booked for June.” Danielle looked at Tom, who seemed somewhat shocked. “Second thoughts already?” “No, I just...In eight months, we’ll be…” Tom could barely compute what was happening. After all his planning, with all his thoughts on it, there was a date set to legally marry Danielle. It was almost unfathomable. “I can’t believe we have a date set.” He rose to his feet and leant in and kissed her. “Eight months will be an incredibly long and yet short time.” “With work, with plays and meetings, sets and meet and greets, we won’t see it pass by. It is strange to think, but by the time we book a reception, hotels and whatnot, by the time Emma and Jack organise a passport for Lucy and everything, eight months is nothing.” Tom frowned. “I thought you don’t need a passport to go to Ireland. I used my driving licence one weekend to get into Dublin for High Rise.” “You don’t under the Common Travel Area and all that but come Brexit, who knows, they already applied, just in case.” “I guess we will all need to be sure.” Diana took note to check her own when she went back to her own house. She beamed proudly at having urged her son and her future daughter-in-law into actually setting a date. “I will leave you to eat and do a few things. Don’t forget to book a venue next.” She instructed as she left.

With quick goodbyes, Danielle started thinking. “I genuinely cannot think of too many. I suppose if you want to be fancy, there is always Kylemore Abbey?”

Tom Googled the place and his brows rose. “It’s beautiful.” “Of course it is, it’s in Connemara, we don’t do things by halves.” She smiled, looking at the picture in front of them of the building. “It is only from the 1860s but it is beautiful, nonetheless.” “And they take weddings?” “For the right price, they will be more than happy to facilitate whatever we ask. The question becomes, are we willing to pay such prices?” Tom suspected that there would be a chance that Danielle would have an issue with such things. He had considered how to approach it but now was the best time. “Elle, Darling, I m not sure how often you are planning on doing this but I am very much only considering the once so we will do this right.”

“I just don’t want to waste money.” “Is it wasting it for us to have a lovely wedding day?” “It’s one day, I don’t…” Danielle inhaled deeply. Her fiance was a renowned actor and she knew that came with more money than sense. “Just nothing too insane.” “Elle, don’t force yourself into budgets. We are not going to do anything mad, even the ring is a family heirloom, we are not extravagant spenders, so if the hotel costs a bit, then fine. I doubt you plan on some mad dress.”

Danielle scoffed, “Valentino, Darling,” She impersonated the accentuated Cruella De Vil accent as she spoke. “Just a hundred thousand.”

Tom chuckled and shook his head. “If you wanted.” Danielle stared at him in horror. “Are you insane?”

“I just want you to be happy.” “Tom, here and now, I m saying this. This whole thing is not going to come within an ass’s roar of that sort of money. No, not happening. I will call it off it does.” “Looks like I found the ‘Get out of Jail Free’ Card.” Tom jested, rushing out of her reach before she could nudge him in retaliation. When she went over to him, he pulled her in against him. “How did I manage to find you, a sensible, beautiful, intelligent woman like you?”

“A sacrifice to an old God or two, I think.”

“Very possible.” He leant down and kissed her, wanting her to feel how intensely he loved her from it.

Pictures of Kylemore Abbey for reference

[babeejeon]

FIRST SNOW

-Jungkook Fluff-

Requested by @rosiegukk

‘Playing in the snow with gukkie?’

Author note:

Thank you so much for requesting!! I might write a little different than only playing in the snow, but i hope it is lovely enough to not to mind. Also, I am not sure where I read or learn about first snow thing, but I knew it is romanticised something. I searched a little and find out it is also related to Korean culture.

Anyways, I hope you will enjoy reading it~ Also need to mention that, reading ‘Symbols in the snow and kisses under the birch(jjk)’ from @alwayschoosechocolate gave me enough energy to finish writing this. I was actually waiting to finish my draft after my finals, but I am happy to finish.

~~~

First snow in the year has always been something for you, it has always been more intensely important to you than other people. When you were six, you watched a movie about two lovers falling in love in the first snow and the idea mesmerised you. You decided that you should definitely fall in love in first snow.

Either because of this dream of yours or your dramatically romantic being, you never feel it coming. Or it might be just that it simply didn’t come. But all your friends blamed you for having unrealistic expectations. They said you are thinking too much, resisting and making it harder. But for you, you simply waited for some kind of a spark. You know that first snow in a year is only once, you know it is just a childish dream. But other than that, you just wanted someone sincere. You just wanted it all to happen naturally. That’s why your friends’ effort to send you blind dates or pushing you to double dates with their boyfriends’ best friends didn’t help. You didn’t want anyone to date, you wanted someone to fall head over heels. You want it to happen out of sudden, turn your life upside down.

But as every other people, life does not give people everything they want, especially what they really want.

So, 20 year later, now, as a 26-year-old adult, you start to lose your belief in finding the love of your life. Maybe he was one of the main characters of one of your favourite novels. Maybe he was so unreal that, he only appeared in your dreams. Maybe just like how you give up the idea of falling in love in the first snow, finding your significant other would be given up, too.

Actually, you were never a type of a girl who complains being alone. You have always been alone, so why would you bother? It is only your friends who are complaining and rubbing it to your face. And only that times you feel a little bad. Not for not having a boyfriend but for not being like them. Your friends dated several guys and broke up of course. They cried each time and healed after some time. It was very usual for them and for most of the people of your age. Tiny worry reaches your heart, like ‘am I weird? ‘ but it is long forgotten when you read romance novels all night. After all, all of the impossible loves become possible at the last chapters.

...

November 1st

You woke up to a freezing morning. You normally complain about the cold mornings, but today you got up from your bed eagerly. Grabbing your new red pen from your drawer, you ran to your calendar.

“It is finally November!” you told to yourself and giggled. You opened the page of November and drew a little heart next to November 1st.

The excitement you feel every November was back to you, so you ran to your closet to choose a lovely outfit for celebrating the arrival of November.

After choosing your outfit for the day, you took a hot shower. It took an hour of you getting ready. While making your make up and styling your hair, you dance and sing along the radio. It was a good start to November, so when you were leaving home for work you were positive that this November is going to be a good one.

On the way to work, you continued to sing along to the radio while driving. Even the annoying morning traffic didn’t annoy you, because you left home too early, due to waking up early.

When you parked your car to the parking lot of your workplace, you checked your watch to see if you have a time for a quick trip to the coffee shop. When you see that there is still one hour, you quickly took your belongings and walked towards the coffee shop. It was only 5 minutes away from your office, so it became your superhero on the six months you have been working here. Their coffee taste amazing and their desserts are super tasty. Also, their playlist are a bop and they have super kind baristas, who puts extra cream to your frappes.

But your usual is cappuccino and double chocolate cookie. No matter how many times you get them, you never get bored of them. Just walking there, you already started to dream your cookie.

As you entered the coffee shop, you see a little queue. You quickly entered the queue and looked if they still have your cookie. There was one last of it, so you felt relieved. None of the people in front of you looks like a type to eat double chocolate cookie in the half-past seven am. One of them was a super slim girl, whose order you guess is filter coffee. Then, a man in his forties, who looks like he is going to order latte. And you... A cappuccino with double chocolate cookie. While you were daydreaming, the queue was processing pretty quickly. After the man it is your time to order. He checked out and you smiled in satisfaction while looking at your cookie.

“Hyung! You saved the cookie for me! I love you!” a guy said from behind you. You turned at him with disbelief.

“He what?” you asked. The guy who has a big smile on his face, finally looked at you.

“Ah! I am sorry Miss. I look like I am abusing your turn. But I know the barista, so I am going to leave after getting my cookie. “ he gave you a apologetic smile.

“Who said it is your cookie? “you said. He looked dumbfounded.

“Huh?”

“I came here before you, so it is definitely my cookie!” you said sassily.

“Uh.. I..” he couldn’t find something to say and scratched the back of his neck with a visible nervousness on his face.

“Actually, I was on the line for buying that cookie to my daughter.” The woman behind you told. A toddler was holding her hand tightly. You smiled at the sight.

“Seems like the little one needs the cookie more than us!” you said with a smile to the little girl who is shyly looking at her mom.

“Thank you!” her mother said and bought the cookie. You waved to the little girl and ordered yourself one filter coffee. You gave death glared at the man and left the coffee shop with your bitter filter coffee. On your way to office you huff and puff.

“He ruined my perfect morning! I lost my cookie and ended up with a filter coffee. I don’t even love filter coffee!!!”

When you reached the office with a big pout on your face, you expected Hyunseok to ask you what’s wrong. But when you entered the office, there was a chaos that you didn’t even know the cause of it. Thus, while trying to figure out the situation, you forgot the cookie.

When your eyes spot Hyunseok, you approached him after putting your bag and coat to your desk.

“What’s going on here today?” you asked.

“The new manager.” He said without even looking at you, he was busy with listening the gossip of your colleagues.

“New manager?” you asked.

“New manager of our department, Y/N. How come you don’t know?” he looked at you in disbelief.

“How can I know that they when they find a manager without seeing the person? I am not one of you gossipers..” you said.

“Yeah yeah.” He said with his attention already on another place. Not only his but everyone’s attention, even yours.

The same man in the coffee shop.

“You, cookie stealer!” you shouted while pointing at him.

All eyes turned at you, including his. Your colleagues have panic in their eyes, but you were too frustrated to notice their looks. His eyes however, has a mischievous glint in them.

“I didn’t steal your cookie!” he said with a smirk.

“Yes, you did more than that. You ruined my morning joy.” You said.

“You gave that cookie willingly to that toddler.” He smiled in a way that made you madder.

“What could I do in that state? She was looking at me innocently.” You said in disbelief.

“Well love, that is not my problem.” He said and shrugged his shoulder.

“But it is because of you!” you furrowed your brows. Before he can answer, the general manager came from the room the man came.

“Enough with the tantrum, Y/N.” the general manager said.

“But..” before you can reply he continued.

“I am here to introduce you all to our new manager for the project department but seems like Y/N is fast to beat me. Anyways, everyone meet Jeon Jungkook, he is going to be the one you are responsible to. “

You were speechless. Everyone was eagerly meeting him, trying to show off themselves. But you were frustrated, so you leave to your desk.

---

You worked all day trying to ignore everything around you. All of your colleagues were talking about him and you put your earbuds in order to not hear any of that. But it was hard for you to ignore it all, because time to time you see him, even worse time to time your eyes meet his and he gives you cocky smiles.

You repeated yourself to calm down till you end your work. When it is finally time that you can leave work, you didn’t waste any time. You even ran to the elevator and catch it before it leaves, because you didn’t want to stay there anymore for today. You shouted for the person inside to hold the elevator, but when elevator’s doors opened you regretted it immediately.

There, Jeon Jungkook is smiling at you.

You entered the elevator and mumbled a quick thank you. He was smiling but you ignored it. When the elevator reached the ground floor, you were hurrying to leave.

“Wait Y/N!” he said. You turned at him, even if you didn’t want to.

“Yes?”

“See you tomorrow!” he said and winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him and left to home.

---

Next morning you entered the coffee shop with a determination to buy your cookie. However, there was no cookie. So you bought your cappuccino and turn to leave the shop, again in a pout, but someone call your name.

“Y/N here, I bought you a cookie.” You see Jungkook is approaching you with two cookies in his hand. He smiled and hold one of the cookies for you.

“No, thanks.” You said and turned to leave. But he held your arm.

“I bought it for you, to apologize.” He smiled.

He had a sincere glint in his eyes, but you were not a one to admit it so you take your arm and leave. However, he was following you behind.

“Oh my god Y/N, you are so stubborn.”

“YES, I AM.”

---

Following three weeks passed with Jungkook not letting you live and you trying to run away from him. He was using every chance to pick on, you were using every chance to ignore, however he was seeming to be luckier than you.

On November 27th the weather forecasts were warning everyone for the expected heavy snow in the evening. It would be the first snow of the year, another first snow you are alone to watch. You sighed.

You were so eager in the morning of November 1st but starting from that day you have been dealing with Jungkook and his never-ending attempts to annoy you. You didn’t even have time to think about the first snow till today. But the weather forecasts were there to make you face it. So, today you were silent and in your own melancholic bubble.

You managed to dodge Jungkook’s attempts to annoy you. You left the office in peace and went to the coffee shop to buy yourself a cup of coffee. You get your coffee and turned to leave the coffee shop but Jungkook get in your way.

“Y/N, come sit with me!” he said.

“Sorry, I need to leave.” You said.

“You have been running away all the time.”

“I really need to leave this time, we can drink some coffee another time.” You said sadly.

“Why?”

“I.. It is going to snow, you know.” You said and looked down.

“So? If you are afraid, I can drive you home.” He offered with a little smile.

“No, that’s not that. I just want to be home at first snow.” You said feeling a little bad to admit it.

“Huh?? Why is that?” he asked curiously.

“Look, this might sound stupid but my dream from childhood was falling in love in the first snow. And seems like it is another year that I couldn’t find my significant other.” You said trying to not to meet his eyes.

“How do you know that? It hasn’t even snowed yet.”

“How can I find him, it is only a few hours away.” You said.

“Of course you can’t find him if you lock yourself to home on first snow. Stay here, we can drink coffee and I can but you a cookie or two. When it snows, we can go play with it. Maybe you can meet with your one. The street will be full of people who are there to enjoy first snow.” He smiled.

“Do you think I will?” you asked.

“Can’t promise but you will have more chance than staying at home.” He said and you smiled at his words. For the first time his words didn’t annoy you, even encouraged you. You took the chair and sat in front of him.

He gave you a big smile.

“Look, we took another step on our friendship. First snow is bringing goodness already.” He said eagerly. You laughed at his words.

“So, you are still buying me a cookie, or that was just for convincing me?” you asked. He laughed heartily.

“You really love cookies, don’t you?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Let me get some, real quick. Do you want any other thing?” he asked.

“No.” you said shyly. You were super confident while asking him to buy you cookie, but now feeling super shy.

A few minutes later Jungkook came with five or more cookies in his hands.

“Why so many?” you questioned. He shrugged his shoulder.

“Just in case if we both decided to eat the last one.” He said and you both giggled at his words.

He sat his chair and took one of the cookies.

“Finally, we can eat cookies together, in peace.” He said while looking at you with a weird smile in his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you blushed and glanced away.

“I don’t know, maybe I am wondering if you still hate me after buying you cookies.” He teased you.

“I am not hating you, just annoyed by you.” You said and mentally facepalmed yourself.

“Oh, that really made me content!” he mocked you.

“No, I mean, I was just seeing you as an enemy, because of my cookies!” you said and laughed.

“You are crazy Y/N!” he was trying his best to hold his smile.

“I hear that a lot!”

---

In the remaining of the evening you sat and talked with Jungkook about everything and anything. If they told you yesterday that you can talk with Jungkook about anything unrelated to work more than two minutes you would laugh their faces but turns out that Jungkook wasn’t a cruel cookie monster. He made you laughed so much, that you were about to forget the first snow for that night. However, the excited squeal of one girl on the cafe was there to turn heads of every customer in the cafe to the window.

“Babe, look, it is snowing!” she squealed and hurried her boyfriend to get out. Their coffees were long forgotten and a few seconds later they were kissing under the snow.

“Wow, a sight from a cheesy romance movie!” you sighed. Jungkook looked at you.

“Hey, don’t give up your hope! Tonight, we are finding the love of your life!” he said with a smile.

“Don’t tease me Jungkook! We both know it is not happening any soon.” you said with a half-smile.

“And why is that? It has just started, and we are not even out yet. You are finishing your last bite of your cookie and we are going out. We are going to walk all night and your lover will pop out in one street or another.” He hurried you.

“We will catch cold, if we walk in the snow.” You mumbled.

“You are going to find your lover, you need to make a sacrifice.” He took your hand and brought you outside. You felt your cheeks blushing.

‘Why is he even holding my hand??’ you thought to yourself.

In order to hide your blush, you decided to whine from cold.

“Don’t you think it is too cold to walk out?” you asked. Jungkook stopped walking and took off his scarf. He approached you and put his scarf around your neck.

“Here, you won’t feel that cold anymore. And we are not going to give up.” He said and continued to walk while holding your hand.

Although holding his hand was unusual, actually holding anyone’s hand for long was unusual for you, you tried to get used to, just for keeping your hand warm.

He was talking about everything. One minute he is pointing how beautiful the snow looks, the second he was complaining about his neighbour’s dog who always barks at him angrily. It was beautiful to listen to him talking keenly, but what you noticed is his handsome face that you never even paid attention before. Sure, you realized that your annoying new manager has good looks. But you never look at his face attentively. He shows his emotions and thoughts with his face, especially with his eyes, a pair of beautiful brown eyes. And even if time to time you are having a hard time to pay attention to his words, his eyes were giving you all of the feelings that you are supposed to get.

But just because you are staring him does not mean you are not listening to him. Of course, you pay attention to him and answer, but time to time his face becomes so attention grabbing, either with his attractive smile or cute reaction to the thing he is talking about.

Seems like you were lost in your thoughts while staring at his face for the nth time that night because you only paid attention to your surroundings when he stopped walking. You were in front of a park, where people were playing with snow. Either making snow angels or playing snowball with their loved ones.

“Would like to play?” he asked while looking at you.

“Snowball?” you asked.

“Why are you looking so surprised?” he asked.

“I don’t.” you laughed.

“We are playing, then?” he asked. You nodded at him. And the next second you were running to prepare a snowball to throw at him.

“You are too fast for a person who looks like I am asking the craziest thing to do!” Jungkook shouted while preparing his own snowball.

“Maybe I did it in order to take you by surprise, you never know Jeon Jungkook!” you said and threw a snowball at him. He was fast to dodge it.

“Right, you might be! But I am good at reacting, love!” he said cockily and threw his own before you have a chance to run away.

He gave you a childish smile and started to prepare his new snowballs, so do you.

An hour passed by you two running around, throwing snowballs to each other and laugh. It was definitely fun to play but tiredness was apparent on both of your faces and breaths.

“Y/N, how about continuing our war another day?” he asked.

“You are holding two damn snowballs in your hands Jungkook!” you said.

“I am ready to throw them down, I am tired.” He whined.

“Okay, then we are throwing them at the same time.” You said and counted.

When both of you threw your snowballs, he approached you with a smile.

“Look I am not that bad guy..” his words cut with a snowball hitting his back. You both turned back to see a man saying sorry for his poor skills of aiming.

You giggled, he pouted and you giggled more. You shook the snow from his back.

“Ahaha, poor you!” you smiled.

“Don’t be cruel!” he said and fake pouted.

“Enough with the snow. Let’s go before we really become sick.” You said and tried to drag him out of the park. But he held your arm to stop you.

“Look at these kids.” He pointed some kids making snow angels on the untouched snow.

“They look adorable!” your face beamed at the sight.

“Come on, we should make some too.” He said and dragged you to some untouched snow.

When he felt satisfied with the snow, he pushed you back gently and let himself fall back, too. You weren’t expecting that but happily complied.

Both of you were pushing your arms up and down while lying on the snow, like kids with giggles.

After a few minutes, you both were feeling satisfied with your snow angels but too tired to get up.

“We should take a photo of our snow angels.” He said and you nodded while looking at his eyes.

“Are you tired?” you asked.

“I…” before he can finish his words, he saw a snowball approaching you so he rolled his self on top of you and it hit him instead. However, you both were too distracted to care about the snowball. He was one or two inch away from you and his eyes were locked to yours.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“I brought you out to find the love of your life, but is it too selfish if I kiss you?” he asked, still looking at you intently. Your eyes grew bigger at his bold words. But you weren’t at a state to hesitate, your heart was beating too fast to deny your feelings.

So, you pecked his lips quickly and pushed him from yourself before he can even understand what is happening.

However, you were already up, running away while holding your hands on your cheeks to hide your blush. But it was bold of you to think that you can run away from him, Jungkook was taller than you to catch you without even putting too much energy. He grabbed your wrist and turned you to face him. You look down to not to meet his eyes.

“You can’t run away like that after kissing me!” he said with a playful smile.

“I didn’t kiss you!” you protested. “I just pecked your lips.” You mumbled the last sentence.

He laughed at your words and you just felt your cheeks grow redder.

“Okay, let me correct. You can’t run away like that after pecking my lips!” he said and you look at him, clearly annoyed with his teasing. You stared his eyes while frowning but he was looking at you with heart eyes, which is not helping your situation and annoying you more.

“What?” you asked.

“You tell me.” He said.

“You started it first with asking me!” you protested.

“Can’t you just say?” He asked.

“Say what?” you asked back.

“Say that, I am not the only one to have this big crush!” he said, and you look at him surprised.

“Don’t look at me like that! You have been messing with my heart since that day you fought me for that cookie. I tried to start a little conversation with you, but you were still angry at me for that cookie. And when I convinced you to drink some coffee with me, I was trying to cheer you up for you to search for the love of your life. It broke my heart, but I just wanted to see you happy.

But all the time we walked, I felt so contented and happy. You were distractingly beautiful even when snow is ruining your makeup and the tip of your nose is red from cold.

You were giving the cutest reactions when my snowballs hit you, and my heart just beat faster as if it is not beating crazily. And you were smiling like a real angel, while making your snow angel. And I was just falling harder for you.

Is it too bad of me to wish that I am the love of your life that you fall in love in the first snow?” he looked at your eyes with his doe ones. You look at his eyes back.

“No, it wouldn’t.”

And you tiptoed to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you. The snow was falling even harder, but both of you were too busy to care. After all, it was a real kiss, not a peck!

[theawkwardterrier]

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 14

AO3 link here

He’s always taken by surprise when the memories come for him. It will be something small, usually: an article he goes to set aside because Bruce would be interested, or - even after all this time - a reach for his phone to check the weather before realizing the reflex won’t make sense for several more decades. The first Thanksgiving he spends with Peggy, he’s muddled through enough to have the turkey in the oven and the potatoes boiling on the stove and suddenly he remembers being on the run, holed up in an apartment in Sofia with Sam recounting stories of family holidays past as he taught Steve and Natasha to make “the best damn cornbread you’ll ever eat.” (Steve remembers the recipe and serves it at dinner, but can’t bring himself to taste it.)

There’s the time that Rose, independent minded as always, starts calling her new brother Natty, then Nat (over and over - “Nat, Nat, Nat”), until Steve, who does not yell at his children, finds himself barking at her to quit it before leaving the room. He apologizes to them all later, a mulish, wary-eyed Rosie in particular, but none of them ever uses the nickname again.

Once, he is waiting in line at the post office and recalls with a sudden and biting shudder that something of him is out there, frozen and insensate in the solitary ice while Steve lives this life. And then he realizes that Thor is somewhere now too, still young and princely, a warrior, already having lived a thousand years or more. Someone Steve could talk to, someone who would not know him, someone who can’t be reached. (The postal clerk offers condolences as he mails his package.)

The day Tony is born is particularly bad.

Steve knew that Maria was pregnant, knew it was going to happen soon. The date on the calendar triggered something familiar in the back of his mind when he went to write in the sleepover party Emma has scheduled for that evening. But he is still surprised when he gets the call.

It comes in the early hours. Peggy grumbles when the phone shrills into the dim morning quiet of their bedroom - she’d been on a late-night call and only got to sleep around 2 AM - so Steve rolls out of bed and over to the dresser to answer it.

“Steve!” It’s Howard, sounding entirely too awake. “Steve, he’s here!”

Steve massages his eyes for a moment, wondering if he has to rouse Peggy after all. Some diplomat, some dangerous figure he doesn’t know about…? But Howard is continuing, “—told me take her over to Mt. Sinai. Luckily I had Jarvis drive us because that woman really had her claws in my arm - hard to steer with that kind of grip on you. Figured the kid was ready to fall out of her, the way she was acting, but we were there all night.You know they let husbands come in for the main event these days? Crazy times. Thought Ana would be better at that sort of thing, though. Calming presence and all. She came out about an hour ago, brought me in to see him before they took him away. Ten fingers, ten toes and all, did great on that baby score test, and we’ve named him too! Anthony, for Maria’s father, but we’ll call him—”

“Tony,” Steve says softly, but it is lost under Howard’s joyful echo.

He had thought that it would be Jarvis calling, pride and delight masked beneath British propriety. He imagined it like being informed about a royal birth: “It has just been announced that Mrs. Maria Stark was safely delivered of a boy at 3:43 A.M. and that she and the child are both doing well.” He could have stood for that, offered suitable congratulations on behalf of himself and the rest of the family, and hung up. But now it is Howard, bursting with unexpected eagerness about his son over the telephone line, and the appropriate amount of corresponding happiness seems more than Steve has to give.

There’s a sick twist in his gut as he thinks of the disdain and hurt in Tony’s voice whenever he spoke about Howard, and it only gets worse when his mind recalls the vivid details of Tony slumped in his armor that final time - the smoke of it all, the everywhere wreckage. He remembers, too strongly for a memory so far past and so far future, the beautiful sun and silence of everyone at the funeral for this child who’s just been born.

He doesn’t even notice Peggy there until she has eased the phone from his ear. “I hear you’ve some good news for us, Howard,” she says, her tone cheerfully dry in a way Steve can’t manage just now. He leans against the bureau and places his thumb on the inside of her wrist, even though he knows that it means the pulse he’s feeling is most likely his own.

Once she’s had her turn to be exuberantly hollered at, the story told lovingly all over again with little additions (Jarvis’s hurried trip back to the house to find the pre-purchased cigars, the little tip Howard had dropped for the nurses to make sure they didn’t go running to the papers), she asks when they should plan to come up and see the baby.

“Come up next weekend, if you can manage it,” says Howard. “Bring the kids! Well, maybe don’t bring them, but park them with Dr. and Mr. Barnes and bring yourselves over.”

“And you’ve confirmed with Maria that she won’t mind?” Peggy asks. “It’s all likely a bit overwhelming between the birth and caring for a newborn, without adding the stress of entertaining.”

“I bet the Jarvises will be over the moon to see you,” Howard says, either not having heard or choosing to ignore her.

“I see I’ll be checking directly with your better half when she’s had an opportunity for some well-deserved rest,” Peggy says with a slight sigh, and then her voice softens. “And, truly, congratulations again, Howard.” She looks up at Steve’s still and somber face. “From all of us.”

Peggy covers it well, but she always needs a moment to settle in around babies when they’re this young. Steve doesn’t technically have much more practice than she does: he’d held Bucky’s kids at this age - mostly Libby; Davy wasn’t born until they’d moved back to DC - but even Emma was a toddler by the time she came into their lives, which means that he doesn’t have much day to day experience. Still, he knows without being asked that Peggy needs him to step up, so when Maria offers to let them hold the baby, he puts out his arms.

Tony is light and sleepy against him, with only a vague suggestion of dark hair. His mouth works at the air a little, dreamily, crusty suggestions of milk at the corners. Maria fed him just before they came. Steve rocks him a bit.

“He’s a sweet, sweet boy,” says Maria, fond and proud and fierce, even though Steve doubts the baby’s done anything to prove that, even though Maria looks tired through her natural elegance. There’s a bit of spit-up on the shoulder of the long, pale blue silk robe she’d greeted them in.

“You seem like you’re doing a great job,” Steve offers.

Maria, easing herself back to recline on the sofa, laughs. “Only because it’s four against one,” she says. “If I was doing this alone, I’d be crying along with him.”

Peggy stands from her settee and holds out graceful hands to take her turn. Steve passes the baby over gently, careful of his head. Tony makes a cranky little cry despite the precautions, but returns to sleep as Peggy begins to rock him rhythmically.

“He’s absolutely darling,” she tells Maria. “Or at least doing a very good impression at the moment.”

Maria says, “I’m glad you think so,” and Steve can see the sweet canniness to her smile that had once convinced him that she could handle Howard. “Because I—We—Howard and I have a request for the two of you.”

“What?” he asks warily, but just then the door opens, and Howard enters the sitting room. Peggy turns her back, holding the baby away from the sudden draft and the cloud of pollen Howard brings in with him clinging to his suit jacket.

“You didn’t start without me, did you?” he asks his wife, striding over to her.

She takes his hand and replies, “You’re only lucky that I didn’t - you promised to be home before they even arrived and I’ve been throwing the child at them as a distraction to cover for you.”

Howard bends to kiss her cheek. “You’re a very good woman,” he tells her, then goes to shake Steve’s hand and wrestle Peggy for a turn to hold the baby.

This turns out to be a poor idea: Tony makes his opinion of all of their antics very well known, and finally Maria takes the baby back herself and calls Ana to put him in the nursery.

“She means our room,” Howard says. “Spent months choosing the paint and just the right books, tracked down all the baby equipment in the world, but she can’t stand to have him on his own.”

“Volunteering to carry him back and forth a dozen times a night, then?” Peggy asks innocently. “How very helpful of you, Howard.” Maria and Steve snicker as Howard busies himself pouring coffee from the tray Jarvis had left on the side table for their refreshment. (No one bothers to tell him that it was put out when Steve and Peggy arrived and is now room-temperature at best.)

“Well,” says Maria, shifting over to let her husband sit beside her. “As I was saying before the interruption, we have something to ask you.”

“We’d like you to be Tony’s godparents,” Howard says, serious for once, although he ruins it immediately by pulling a horrible face after taking a sip of lukewarm coffee. He puts his cup on the table and tries to recover. “Be his guardians if there’s ever a need.”

Peggy glances over at Steve, who has settled himself to her right. She’d speculated that this was why the Starks had been so eager for them to visit in person, but Steve had insisted that they were simply new parents looking to show off their offspring and that there were surely other people who would be better suited to such a role.

There’s a reason he usually doesn’t argue with Peggy’s hunches.

“I’m honored. Truly,” says Peggy, striving to make clear the sincerity in her voice rather than the fact that she’s stalling. “I’m sure that we both are.”

“Of course we are. And I’m grateful that you would want to trust us with something like this.” Steve leans forward. “But are you sure we’re the right choice? We don’t live close, and things can get a little busy around our place. Maybe someone more local, someone who can offer him more time than we can really promise - plus, if you’re serious about the godparents business, someone who’s actually religious - maybe that would be better. Jarvis and Ana would probably be—”

“Too worn out for that sort of thing.” Maria reaches forward and covers his clasped hands with hers. “This is exactly why we wanted it to be you. You held him for two minutes and you’re already thinking of what’s best for him.”

“Bucky,” Steve tries, one last time. “Buck and Layla—”

But Howard interrupts now, bringing a triumphant hand down on the table. “Didn’t I tell you that he’d be modest about it?” he says to Maria, then turns to Steve and says, “It’s you, pal. The two of you - the smartest, most capable woman I know, who’s already proven she can handle a Stark, and the best thing I ever—The best father in the world - there’s no one better.”

“So?” asks Maria with quiet hope, and it is clear that at least some part of her has registered Steve’s hesitation in a way that Howard hasn’t. She lets go of Steve’s hands and sits back against the couch again, although her expression is still kind. “Will you do it?”

Steve knows without even looking at Peggy that it is his choice and she will have his back either way. He thinks of Tony as he knew him, lost and brilliant and bold, friend and adversary. He thinks of tiny, fragile Tony as he held him just now, unformed and entire. He thinks about Tony’s daughter who Steve never got to hold at that age, who never got to place a grandchild in her father’s arms.

Maybe this time around.

They excuse themselves soon after, Maria clearly worn out and hanging on by the barest threads of her hostess smile. Peggy goes to speak with the Jarvises about joining them in seeing Angie’s new show tonight (“Come now, Mr. Jarvis, there’s no Benny Goodman these days to stop you from enjoying an evening out”) while Howard walks Steve down to the foyer.

“Any chance—” Howard starts, and even though his tone isn’t wheedling or sly the way it usually is, Steve knows what he is going to ask. “Any chance you’ll give me a hint about the future of it all?”

“Howard, you know that I—”

“Sure, sure, I’ve heard it all before. But just this once, tell me if things turn out. For him.”

It’s a selfish bit of manipulation, but a parental one too: “How will my child grow up? How can I protect them from the harm that is in store?” Did such thoughts ever come to the other Howard, the one who was caught up in weapons and cold war and past victories, who seemed to have been gone even when there, cruel and disappointed in a way that led only to more disappointment? Had he showed this sort of wonder and worry in the beginning only to let it fade?

“I can’t tell you things like that,” he says, driving unyieldingly forward over Howard’s protest. “But as a father, I’ll tell you this: you need to take time with him.”

Howard laughs. “Steve, I’m sure I’ll have a few minutes to catch a ball once he actually starts being able to control his own hands.”

Steve shakes his head. “Not just that.” He doesn’t know where the idea comes from or if it will fix anything, but he says it anyway. “You should take a day off every week. One day, to give the rest of them a break and so you can spend time getting to know him.”

“I don’t think there’s much to know about him yet.” Howard laughs again, but there’s an edge to it now, the laugh of a man who isn’t accustomed to interventions into his business. Steve questions if there would be a laugh at all if it wasn’t him, or perhaps Peggy, saying it.

“If you don’t start now,” Steve predicts, “you never will. And, sure, at the beginning you’d be missing sleeping and diapers and crying - things I never got with my kids - but soon it’ll be first steps and first words and first day of college. The time goes fast, Howard, faster than you can believe. You asked for advice, and there’s mine: spend a day out of the office and taking care of your son.”

“Not exactly a convenient time,” Howard says brusquely. “You were the one who said I should throw those AGU characters a bone and give the keynote, and then the whole thing went off between the ones who are saying the planet’s going to explode if we don’t do something and the ones who say the planet’s going to explode even if we do something. Most of them say it’s getting too hot, but then there are the ones who say the problem is cold. And of course there are the ones who say it’s not a problem at all. I’m starting a whole new division to try to straighten things out, so I’m not sure that all those expert scientists I just hired are going to take too kindly to my kicking my feet up for a whole day.”

“You’re in charge. And you did just say that they’re the experts,” Steve reminds him, then tries a different tack. “And who knows? Your boy could be the next expert if you’re around to help him.”

That seems to strike something in Howard. “As if he’d ever be an egghead like that.” He looks irately Steve and adds, “And didn’t I tell you he’s already a genius? Aced everything the doctors threw at him. That’s genetics, pal.”

“So,” Peggy asks as they begin making their way back to Bucky’s. Jarvis had offered to drive them, but they’d declined. “Attempting to engineer fatherhood now, are we?”

“He didn’t do a very good job the first time around,” Steve says.

She looks at him, gentle but shrewd. “And do you expect he’ll actually make the time as you suggested? I believe Howard loves Maria, but since they were married he spends as much time in the office as ever. Perhaps more, now that he doesn’t need to excuse himself to charm the next starlet in the pack.”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know if he’ll listen, or if it will change things, or if it might make it all worse. But I know I had to try something.”

With a fond sigh but no surprise, she says, “Of course you did.” They continue walking even as are separated for a moment by a tour group taking up the sidewalk, Peggy moving in toward the wall and Steve stepping off the curb into the street. When they rejoin each other, she twines her fingers with his. “I’m sure you feel a particular responsibility too, now that we’ve been named godparents.”

Steve sighs himself. “Well, we’ll see how that goes.”

“What do you mean?” She looks up at him. “They sounded quite firm in their intentions, if you’ll recall.”

“I know that,” Steve replies. “But you might end up changing your mind and sabotaging the whole deal.”

She pulls away. “Steve Rogers, I would do no such thing!” He laughs; sometimes he likes to be reminded that beneath the spy and the director and the mother, there’s the boarding school girl who kept secrets on her word of honor and considered welching a criminal offense.

“You just wait,” he says. “I have the feeling that no matter what I try, some things can’t be avoided - and Tony Stark’s personality might be one of them.”

“That’s no reason to malign me,” she says, settling back against him though clearly still touchy. “I do have some fortitude. I did help bring up Rose, after all.”

They pause at a cross street to wait for the stoplight. Steve glances up at the clearing sky, a brilliant May blue emerging. “You’re right. And so did I. Maybe I’ll actually have the upper hand this time around.”

Peggy tells him airily, “Well, I perhaps wouldn’t go that far. When have you ever with the children?” and laughs when he glares down at her.

The light changes and, clasped hands still together, they step off the curb and cross onward.

More chapters here

[a-marlene-s]

Giveaway Prize: 1st Place the 2000-word one-shot!

Winner: @ladylucina28

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Family day...

Au: Everybody lives!!!!

Couple: Fred Weasley x Hermione Granger

Word Count: 2030

-.-

Fred…

Fred…

Fred.

FRED!!!

Fred Weasley woke up with a start, he flung himself upwards clutching his nightshirt right above his heart. He reached over in hopes of looking for his partner but he came up empty. Fear overwhelmed at how cold the other side of the bed felt. Flinging the bed sheets off himself, Fred did not bother with his slippers before leaving the room with wand in hand that he got from the night table.

Walking through the home, Fred took note of all the curtains were pulled back to let in natural sunlight. This did put some ease for him, but not enough to put away his wand. He continued his way through his home, checking his children’s rooms to see they were nowhere in sight. Panic over took him and Fred quickly ran through his home as he wanted to find his family.

As Fred paced down the stairs, he heard giggles that was followed by familiar laughter that brought back his sense of peace. He hid his wand into his pants pocket and proceeded down steps and as he did, the sound of laughter only grew. On the final step, he took pause as the it got quiet and Fred had to strain his ears to hear whatever was being said. Then a burst of laughter filled the home and he couldn’t help but laugh along to it.

Continuing on, Fred made it to the kitchen to see his family enjoying breakfast. Hermione is helping their youngest, Clover with cutting up what appears to be pancakes for her. While the twins, Millie and Tillie are fighting over which persevere is better. This… this is something he always looked forward to seeing every morning and would not trade it for anything in the world.

“Morning, did we wake you?” Hermione spoke up, breaking Fred out of his thoughts.

Fred couldn’t help but grin. “Here I thought you’d be doing Minister-y work, Minister.”

Hermione could not but smile. She looked over and could tell something was off with her husband, his smile did not quite reach his eyes. He had another nightmare… maintaining her smile to not alarm the children, she pulled out a table and pilled it up with pancakes. “I decided to take the day off. I flued Shacklebolt to take care of things for today. I have the entire day planned out.”

“Oh?” Fred could not believe what he is hearing. The fact that his dear wife, who just also happens to not only be the Minister of Magic, but also the Hermione Granger-Weasley, decided to take a day off… that is huge. Of course, he supports her in all of her endeavors just as much as she supports his, it has been increasingly difficult to have time for themselves and as a family. “What’s the occasion?”

Fred did a quick search of a kitchen, expecting something or another. He paid extra focus on the calendar that placed on the top cabinet to see if anything was happening that day. Nothing. Now this did strike fear within him. Did he forget something?

“Nothing is scheduled for today. I simply wanted time with my family is all.”

“Momma, are we going to Diagon Alley today?” Millie asked excitedly at the aspect of visiting her favorite place in the entire world. “Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!”

“Long as they don’t let out any of those Fanged Frisbees out.” Hermione gave her husband a pointed stare, who in turn, simply looked away and let out an innocent tune. “Fred.”

“Who? Me?” Fred blinked innocently at his wife. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“No Fanged Frisbees or anything else that could harm the children.” Hermione raised an eyebrow to emphasize her point.

Fred raised his hands in a mock surrender. “I promise to make sure we put away all of those things away. No more surprise haircuts.”

“Good. Now get ready.”

-.-

Never in a million years did Fred ever believe he would have the life he has right now. No, it’s not the fact he is happily married, three loving kids, and running a business with his brother. It is the fact he is living in a muggle neighborhood, right next to his in-laws. He suspects Hermione wanted to live here after everything she had put her parents through during the way. But, he is not one to complain about it.

With Hermione becoming Minister and them taking part of the war, security measures have been placed making the area secured enough they do not need to worry. Still… the fact everytime Fred steps out his front door he could feel Grandmum Granger opening one of her curtains to see what they are doing before closing them shut once more. Yeah, that happens quite often.

“Papa! To the park!” Tillie called out, running out with her sister right at her heels.

“No, to Diagon Alley!” Millie cried out, running after his sister.

“Park!”

“Diagon Alley!”

Fred could not help but smile at the sight of his daughter bickering over what they wanted to do for the day. It reminded so much of his own siblings.

“Girls, we are going to both places, just wait.” Hermione said walking out the door with Clover in her arms. Fred hurried over to take Clover into his arms to carry her and the diaper bag from Hermione while she locked up.

“Mommy, are we going to the park?” Tillie asked her mother, tugging on the diaper bag she is carrying.

“I want to go to Diagon Alley.” Millie pouted, tugging on her mother’s long sweater.

“Girls, girls! Let’s to go the car and we’ll figure out where we are going first!” Fred started to lead the girls to the car giving Hermione enough time to properly lock things up. “Into the muggle car! Muggle car~”

“Fred, don’t call it that. The neighbors.” Hermione shot her husband a look that caused him to give her a sheepish smile. At the smile, she could not help with a smile of her own. “Into the muggle car.”

“Muggle car~”

-.-

“Do you remember when you asked me to the Yule Ball?” Hermione asked out of the blue as she drove her family to muggle London, catching Fred off-guard.

“I remember asking you. I remember not believing the fact you accepted. I remember Harry and Ron ganging up on me. I remember them threatening me over it. Ron looking disappointed and Harry didn’t know what to think or say… besides that, I don’t remember much else.” Fred said, thinking over when he had asked Hermione to the Yule Ball as his date. Not as a friend asking a friend. It was him asking her on a date, a massive on at that.

Hermione accepted and the two have been steady ever since. Sure, they had times when they butted heads. When he and George had dropped out of school after humiliating Umbridge to give an example of a reason they had fought. Luckily for everyone, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes took off for the Weasley Twins and Fred was no longer stuck in the dog house. Or had howlers being sent to him daily.

One of their biggest obstacles the couple had faced by far, were the reputations of the Battle of Hogwarts. Neither one was the same after that, Hermione being in the forefront of it all and Fred doing his best to help any underage witches/wizards out of the castle, both doing their best to save as many as they could. Everything looked to be going their way… until Fred saw a flashing green light.

“You had that nightmare again… didn’t you?” Hermione asked, just low enough for the girls not to hear. Fred’s silence spoke volumes for Hermione. “Have you thought about talking to a professional?”

“And miss the chance to talk to you?” Fred attempted to joke but his voice sounded grimace, even to himself. He took in a deep breath when Hermione gave him a look. “I tried to make an appointment to that one placed you told me about, but I didn’t understand what they were asking of me and that they didn’t have room for me there.”

“Oh! I will talk to my father; I am sure he will talk to Dr. McCoy to schedule you in his office.”

“Isn’t that the guy that gave your mother prune juice under the guise of grape juice?”

“Yes…”

“Heh, I remember him. I like him. Funny fellow.”  

-.-

Hermione and Fred knew they were being watched by Aurors as they eat ice-cream with their children. One of the many perks of being Minister and the constant need to be vigilant. They actually found it rather hilarious for the fact that the two that are supposed to be watching of them are none other than Harry and Ron.

When the two Aurors were not looking, Fred used magic to put Puking Pastilles into their respective ice-creams. “Now… we don’t have to worry about them.”

“What happened to-”

“Uncle Ron-”

“Uncle Harry?”

The twins asked, looking over to see their uncles running out of the shop while looking rather green and holding their mouths.

“They were being noisy.” Fred replied, ignoring the looks Hermione gave him.

“You didn’t have to do that. They’ll probably send someone else to watch over.” Hermione pointed at Fred with a spoonful of ice-cream. Fred stared at the ice-cream before reaching over and gobbled up the ice-cream. “Fred, that was too much! You’ll get brain freeze.”

Fred only gave her a grin before he felt familiar pain began to overwhelm him. “Too much!”

Hermione could only let out a tired sigh before taking a large scoop of ice-cream for her to eat. She ignored Fred’s pout at seeing her able to eat ice-cream without the fear of getting a brain freeze. It also did not help how the twins could also do the same, mocking their father everytime he got a brain freeze everytime he ate too much of his ice-cream.

“Oh, Clover… It looks like it’s just you and I…” Fred sniffled while cooing over his youngest, who is sitting on a baby high chair. However, to his dismay, she had managed to take some of her own ice and pushed it into his nose. “Now I have a nose freeze.”

-.-

“I think… that’s the end of it.” Ron wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He should have seen that coming. Every Auror that has ever been tasked with watching over Minister Granger, they knew there is a massive chance Fred Weasley will use every trick he has under his sleeve to get rid of them. Of course, it is under the pretense if that they are unable to get away from his pranks, then how are they able to protect the Minister? His wife? Yeah… no one ever leaves unscathed. “How did he do that?”

“I don’t know…” Harry heaved out the remainder of his breakfast. “I think he did that to get us out of there. Otherwise he would have used the Fanged Frisbees against us back in the shop.”

“No, he would have used a screaming yo-yo when he caught us sneaking into ‘Wheezes.” Ron reminded him. He reached into his back pocket to take out a mint and offered one to Harry. “Do you think we should have somebody else watch over them?”

“And deal with the paperwork that comes along with it… no thanks.” Harry said, taking a mint and popping it into his mouth. From their spot, they could see the Granger-Weasley family enjoying some ice-cream after a long eventful day of being a family. He could not help but smile at the sight before them. Even from this distance, Harry could see how Fred adores Hermione, Clover, Millie and Tillie.

“I still can’t believe they ended up together…”

“Don’t tell me you are still stewing over it? After all this time?”

“No, I’m not. I just… never thought Fred had feelings for Hermione is all.”

“Hermione loves him because he makes her laugh… and something about his devious side.”

“Ugh… let’s just go already before Fred makes us eat another prank candy.”

[lokisgame]

Enchanted Forest [4]

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

Crowded flights were tiresome. Scully wanted to read the report again, but couldn't risk exposing the child sitting next to her to autopsy and crime scene photos. Instead she watched the boy play with his toys, racing them around the folding table and banging them together time and time again, not at all bothered by his mother's warnings and threats. She tuned them both out after a few cycles. She had the aisle seat, same as Mulder, and could see him sitting four rows up, legs stretched out, ankles crossed, one foot twitching, probably in time with music from his earbuds. She was right, to move past the awkwardness, they both got humiliated enough. If they were sitting together right now, relief would roll off him like warm sunshine, talking about Sasquatch sightings as if he was an autograph hunter trying to catch his favorite star. He was still Mulder, still her friend and even his questionable pass-times couldn't push her away. All she wanted to know, was why.   "Oh Mulder," she thought to herself, "you keep unfolding like a flower." She recalled the cautious tenderness, his hands framing her face, reaching for the most human parts of her. She pushed back when he did it the first time, when her father died, and when she wanted to work again after her abduction, but what if she didn't? She didn't have to prove anything to Mulder anymore. What would it be like, to have those hands for herself? She had dreams about him, always attributing it to the amount of time they spend together, but what if her body was trying to tell her something, what if she let herself walk down that path one more time. After all, Mulder was closer to her than Jack ever was. Mulder stirred as if hearing her thoughts, shifting in his narrow seat and taking a moment to look around the cabin. Their eyes met and he winked at her, smiling warmly. Two more hours till landing.

"Is that snow?" She said, stepping out of the car and reaching out one hand, tiny white star landing on black leather glove. "It's January in Wisconsin." Mulder shrugged and headed for the Sheriff's station.

The Sheriff strongly advised against heading into forest after dark. They expected the weather to change dramatically and with the attacks they couldn't guarantee anyone's safety. Mulder wanted to go, but she convinced him to stay and go through the documentation instead, while she headed to the coroners office to take a look at the body. "I'll pick you up on my way back," she said, taking the car keys he offered. "I'll see if they had similar cases before, the legends had to come from somewhere." "Okay, I should be done by 6 or 7 pm." "There's a diner on the way to the motel, we can eat there before we check in." "Sounds like a plan," she said, putting her coat on and taking the map, the Sheriff drew for her.

In the end, they reached the motel around 11. "Yes, I have your reservation," the kid said looking through his calendar, "we had two rooms booked for you, but some guests complained about the cold this morning. We checked all the rooms, and it turned out, that thermostats in half of them broke down and we can't get them fixed before Thursday." "Is there any other motel in town?" Mulder asked, trying to contain his frustration. Perfect, first the thing this weekend, now this. Has someone cursed them? He wasn't exactly superstitious, but if things came in threes, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what's coming. "Yes, but the people who left went there, and they have no room left there either." "Is it singles or double?" Scully asked suddenly, perfectly calm. "Two singles, ma'am," he said quickly, "I'm very sorry about this, this is my parents' place, but they are out of town and left me in charge for the first time and..." "We'll take it," she said in a tone that said she's too tired to listen to excuses. "Thank you," he sighed and turned the guest book so they could sign in.

Two inches of fresh snow crunched happily on their way to the door. The town felt as if someone came in and turned the volume down. What started as a few single stars now turned into heavy petals, falling slowly but steadily to the ground. "I don't like this snow," Scully said, looking around as Mulder struggled with the lock a few seconds too long. "It isn't that bad," he said, jiggling the key a little, trying to make it turn. "What's wrong with this thing?" "Let me." Pushing his hands aside and stepping in front of him, she did the same thing as he had, only for her, the lock gave on second try. "Ta-daa," she smiled over one shoulder, and realized, that her back was pressed against his front. "Let's get out of this cold," she said, pushing the doors open. "What cold?" Mulder muttered, but she was already gone.

The kid didn't lie, the room was toasty warm, two beds, a tv, typical setup, one they saw many times. She took the shower first, leaving enough hot water for him, if he didn't take long. The tv was turned on, low voices caught her attention and stoping for a moment, she recognized Doris Day and Thelma Ritter, arguing in the kitchen. It was Pillow Talk. "What am I missing?" Doris asked, playing a successful decorator with a boring taste in men. "When you have to ask, believe me, you're missin' it." Thelma replied, chuckling. Scully rolled her eyes then turned the tv off.  

They lay in silence, in the not-quite-darkness. Snow reflecting even the tiniest light blurred edges and lines, making words come easier, than they would in bright sunshine. Scully spoke softly, half hoping he would ignore her, pretending to be asleep. "Mulder?" Silence, the watch ticking on her night stand counted 6 seconds, 7, then a grunt came from her right. Biting the bullet, she asked. "Why do you do it?" "Do what?" "You know, the escort service." "Scully," he sighed, the sheets rustled, bed creaked.   "I'm trying to wrap my head around it." "And?" "Nothing," she said placatingly, sensing a wall just underneath his tone, "I'm just curious." He sighed once more, heavier, a decision being made. "This will sound crude, but I like it." "You like having casual sex with strangers and being paid for it? You're such a guy." "You're judging." "Explain it to me then." She couldn't stop her voice from rising, maybe it was the catholic upbringing. "It's my life and I don't need your approval." He barked defiantly, and she heard him turning his back on her, shutting her out. It stung, more than a little. Silence stretched, one could almost hear the snowflakes landing on the windowpane. "I'm sorry," she sighed, before he slipped away completely. "Mulder?" "It's okay," he said into the darkness, "let's forget about it." But there was no going back for her. She got up, crossed the four feet of carpet and sat on the edge of his bed. Mulder didn't flinch when the mattress dipped under her weight. "I can't," she said softly, resting one hand on his arm. "I'm your friend, we may not always agree, but we never kept secrets from each other, or so I thought, until..." "Scully, I'm a male escort, it's not something you bring up in casual conversation." He didn't look at her, but there was no sting in his tone this time. He held a black belt in self-deprecation. "How was your weekend? My cock is still sore." "Is it?" She smirked, jostling him slightly, teasing. "You're my doctor," he said, humor slowly returning. He looked at her over one shoulder, "you know I'm clean." "I know." She dared to ask again. "So, you like it." "You're looking at it in wrong terms," he sighed, finally rolling onto his back, but still avoiding her gaze, "from girls completely dependent on their pimp on one end, to exclusive call girls, on the other. You hear escort service and see hands up very short skirts." He spoke slowly, carefully choosing each word. "What I do, is quite different." "How?" "I offer comfort. Women who seek out such services are very much like you, really." She managed to reduce the skeptical remark to a tiny snort. "Strong, independent, busy women, often in position of power, who might see the dating game as too tiring, too unpredictable, too much effort for potentially poor results." "That's cold." "Maybe, a little, but this is where services like ours come in. These women know what they want, and aren't afraid to ask for it, and what they get in return is discretion without any strings attached. No nagging phone calls, no awkward encounters after, no lousy sex causing dangerous gossip." "Why not just buy a vibrator, or take a hot bath, use your hands." Her openness made him smile. "Sure, but for some, it's not enough. It's role-play, whether it's about escaping into a kinky fantasy or simply sharing some affection." "But it's a lie," she insisted, unconvinced. "Is it?" Scully could feel him shift, tugging at sheets as he sat up. A faint glow reflecting from the snow was the only light, but she could see his face, open and calm. "C'mere." He said, scooting closer, sheets bunching up between them. "What are you doing?" "Proving a point." He touched her arms lightly, drawing her in, "I won't try anything, I promise." Some reflex made her reach for him, and next thing she knew, Mulder's arms were around her. Solid but gentle, her cheek on his shoulder, warm skin just beneath cotton t-shirt, large palm slowly stroked her back as he held her in a simple hug. She could smell him, clean and masculine and familiar. "Don't think about it," he said, and she leaned on him, letting him take her weight. "Nothing can replace another human's touch," he whispered, setting a steady rhythm with his hand, "no sex toy, no bath salts. Even if I don't stay around to be there, when they wake up, I care, and they care back. That's what I like," he leaned into her a little, gathering her closer, acceptance and simple want. "This feels nice, doesn't it?" He said, holding on, his fears for their future melting with each second she didn’t pull away. Scully could feel her own tension ease with each stroke of his hand, contact pushing out nagging thoughts, and not just about this one thing, all her troubles fades into background. It really felt like a warm bath after a long day. "May I?" he whispered. Gentle swell and fall of his breath felt almost hypnotizing and she nodded without thinking. One arm vanished, but only for long enough to push away the covers before he leaned back, pulling her down with him. "Try to sleep," he said settling in, falling into pits and lands of the mattress, as if it was made for him, just as his side and shoulder were made for her. The hand around her picked up where it finished and a sense of calm washed slowly over her, a sweet drug making her limbs and eyelids heavy.

She woke up sometime in the night, orange glow outside seemed daytime bright, but it was 3 am and she could see Mulder’s hand, dangling limply over the edge of the bed from the arm that pillowed her head, the other one rested draped loosely around her. He was a warm, solid presence and he didn’t even need to hold her, for it to feel like she belonged there. Closing her eyes, she let sleep take her back, leaning against his chest and feeling him shift with her.

[hamki]

New fic coming your way

 it’s been like 20938 years but-

I wrote some Shiann/suzumaki/whatever their ship name is at the moment. These two deserve to be girlfriends.

Title: Her Miracle Word Count: 3,769 words Fandom: Persona 5 Contains spoilers about the first dungeon and parts of Ann’s social link.

Also available here on AO3

PI  PI PI PI~

Something buzzed harshly against a girl's bed. The girl groaned into her pillow and lazily searched around her blankets with a hand to find the object. Once her fingers contacted cold metal, she brought it up to her face and clicked a button. The light that emitted from her phone blinded her with the following:

7:30 AM

1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: SUZUI SHIHO

MESSAGE PREVIEW: "Good morning, Ann."

Ann smiled, still half asleep, and slid the notification to reply.

"Good morning, Shiho."

Send.

Shiho is typing...

"Sorry to message you so early. Did I wake you up?"

"No, not at all! What's up?"

"Well, I was thinking..."

...

Shiho is typing...

...

Shiho is typing...

Ann watched the notification pop up and down. She waited until Shiho was able to gather her words together. Finally, a new message appeared.

"Do you have any free time today? I have another rehab session... I want you to be there with me."

Ann didn't even bother checking her calendar.

"Of course! What time should I be there?"

Shiho sent her the details. Ann scheduled an alarm for herself before finally sitting up and stretching.

 A few hours later, Ann arrived at the hospital. The receptionist was already quite familiar with the light blonde girl, and greeted her warmly. Ann flashed a smile back as she signed her name for visiting and headed for the elevator. As the metal box made its slow ascent, Ann pulled out her phone. She'd forgotten to cancel her photoshoot appointment earlier that was supposed to be scheduled around this time. She simply typed a short "Sorry, I can't make it today. Have Mika fill in for me."

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding. Ann stepped out onto the hospital floor. Despite the halls winding around itself like a maze, Ann had already made herself familiar with the floor. In fact, Ann had been here so many times, even the other patients and nurses recognized her. When Ann had made her first visit here, she'd expected that the atmosphere would have been dark and heavy due to the fact that this was the mental facility for those who desired the same fate as Shiho. But surprisingly, Ann had found it to have a warm sense of hope to it. It felt like a place where new beginnings were born.

After greeting a few patients who passed her by, she arrived at the room where Shiho resided. She gently rapped on the door.

"Shiho? It's me." Ann announced. She listened closely for the other girl's soft reply.

"Come in."

Ann quietly slid the door open and closed it behind her as she stepped inside. Her eyes immediately darted for the girl sitting up on the hospital bed. It was strange, almost serene, even, seeing Shiho not in uniform. Shiho was wearing her hair down while a pair of reading glasses rested upon the bridge of her nose, along with a gentle smile that was reserved for Ann and only Ann. With the large windows that filtered plenty of sunlight inside, it was almost as if Ann had walked into the room of an angel. The blonde girl took a seat at Shiho's bedside.

"You're here early." Shiho laughed.

"I couldn't wait to see my favorite volleyball player after all!" Ann giggled back. "So? How's the hospital treatment been?"

"About the same. The nurses here are always really nice."  Shiho replied. "The food still kind of sucks, though."

Ann laughed and nodded. "I'm not surprised. Tell you what though, when they give you the 'ok' to let you out of here, I'll take you somewhere nice. My treat."

"Will it be a date, then?" Shiho asked innocently.

"W-well..! Um...o-only if you want it to be." Ann stuttered. She waved her hands in front of her as if dismissing a misunderstanding.  "I mean I don't mind if it were to be a date. In fact it would be great if it was a date! O-only if you wanted it to be though, I don't want to impose anything on you or-"

"It's a date, then." Shiho giggled. She held out her pinky to the other girl. "Promise?" Ann stopped herself in her stupor and hurriedly returned the gesture.

"Yeah, I promise." They smiled at each other in understanding.

"Thank you, Ann."

"What are you thanking me for?" The blonde girl laughed.

"Everything."  Shiho responded quickly. Ann was taken aback at the sudden reply and gazed at her in curiosity. The girl in the hospital bed calmly returned her gaze, silent. Without a word, Shiho removed the book on her lap, placing it on the table beside her along with her reading glasses. "My rehab session doesn't start until a while. Until then, would you like to go to the courtyard? I'm feeling a little stuffy in here."

Ann nodded. "O-oh, yeah, that sounds great. The weather outside is actually pretty nice today."

"That's good to hear." Shiho responded. She reached over to the space between the table and her bed to pull out a folded wheelchair.

"Oh! Let me help you with that." Ann offered. Shiho shook her head.

"Ah, no, it's fine. I'm used to it by now. I can just lift myself out using my arms. Besides, I'm a little heavy so---eep!"

Ann was most certainly not in the mood to accept Shiho's excuses today. She'd already scooped Shiho up into a princess carry and gently lowered her onto the chair.

"How was that?" Ann grinned widely.

"Wow Ann...Have you always been this strong?"

"Hey! What are you trying to say?" Ann gasped. Shiho giggled into her hand.

"No, nothing. It's just that I remember when we used to arm wrestle and you'd always lose within the first 5 seconds. Maybe if we did it again, you'd last longer." Shiho teased.

"Is that a challenge I'm hearing?" Ann said playfully.

"...Maybe." Shiho replied. "Oh right, I need to let my nurse know that I'll be outside before we go. Can you take me to her?"

Ann pumped her fist with a wide grin plastered on her face. "Leave it to me!"

 The hospital courtyard was spacious. There were plenty of large tree to provide shade if the weather was too hot, and plenty of grass to lie on if one so desired. It was almost like a small park. Two girls sat next to each other; one on a bench under a tree, and one on a wheelchair. They were drinking some lemonade together that the blonde girl had bought them from the vending machine. Uncarbonated, of course.

Shiho inhaled deeply and let out a breath. "The air out here is so nice." She commented. "Sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating inside the hospital room."

"Well, on the bright side, they said they you would be able to leave soon if your rehab all goes accordingly, right?" Ann asked as she placed her drink down on the bench.

"Right. In fact, they were saying that I'm progressing faster than they expected, so if I'm going at the pace I've been going at all this while, I might even be able to leave early." Shiho answered.

"That's amazing, Shiho!" Ann shouted.

"Actually, Ann...That's why I wanted you to come today." Shiho said softly. Ann tilted her head to the side.

"Shiho...?"

"I wanted you to see...just how strong I've grown now. The first day they put me on rehab, I wasn't even able to reach the halfway mark. But now, I think I can do it….No, I'm sure that I can. I'll show you that I can be strong too, Ann...!" Shiho turned towards the girl beside her.

 "Shiho..." Ann looked into Shiho's eyes. There was a light there that she'd never seen before. It was a bright light. A light that marked a new beginning for that girl. A light that burned with such fierce determination, Ann couldn't look away.

"When I said Thank You earlier...I meant it. All this time, you've been my reason for everything. I've been trying to get stronger because you were there. Because you were strong." Shiho reached over and took Ann's hand into hers. Ann shook her head.

"No...I'm not strong. I couldn't do anything when you needed my help the most. How is that supposed to represent strength...?" Ann looked down at her feet.

"That's not true!" Shiho shouted. Ann looked up at her, eyes wide. It was the first time she'd heard Shiho raise her voice like that. "Ann. You were the one who protected me, right? You were willing to sacrifice your own comfort for my sake. People made fun of you and looked down on you because they all thought you were with that...that man. And yet, you still did it anyways and you pushed through it. All so that I could have a place on the volleyball team." Shiho furrowed her brows. "Not only that...you did something else to protect me, didn't you?"

"....What do you mean?" Ann asked hesitantly.

"Ann, you're a Phantom Thief, aren't you?" Shiho whispered. Ann shot up from her seat, eyes wide.

"How did you-!?"

"Shh!" Shiho hushed. "There are a lot of surveillance cameras here." Ann quickly clasped her hands around her mouth. "But...I knew it. I'm honestly relieved to hear that you're one of them." She smiled to herself.

"But still, Shiho...How did you find out?" Ann questioned. Shiho frowned and shook her head.

"I...can't really explain it myself. The thought just came to me one day. I'd heard about what happened with that calling card, and for some reason, when I thought about who it could have been, your face was the one that always popped up in my head. I'd told myself that I owe the Phantom Thieves my life because they protected me by changing that man's heart. And I think my mind must have associated the word 'protection' with you." Shiho looked up at Ann, who still seemed to be a bit in shock. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret. That way, I can tell myself that I have a secret superhero who watches over me." Shiho laughed.

A secret superhero. In her mind, Ann had wanted to call herself this too, but ever since that high school detective had raised his concerns about the Phantom Thieves false sense of justice, she wasn't sure. Now, hearing Shiho calling her her superhero...it was all she needed to convince herself that changing people's hearts to help others in need wasn't bad.

"I've been meaning to tell you this for a while, Ann, but...I'm also sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"During that time, when I was standing on that ledge, I wasn't thinking about anyone else but me. All that was going through my mind was that I couldn't live in this world anymore…! That I didn't belong, and I needed to escape. Somewhere far away where no one could touch me again. I wasn't thinking about how you would have felt if I'd actually died from that fall. I was selfish."

"T-That's not true...!"

"Not only that...I was weak, too." Shiho continued. "I let people push me around whenever they felt like. I couldn't speak up for myself, and I let...that man convince me that I was worthless. Disposable."

"Shiho...stop. That wasn't your fault! None of it was! It was all because of that sick bastard!" Ann yelled. A few heads were turned, but they went back to their business. "Please, don't blame yourself. I can't stand it..." Tears began to well up in the corners of Ann's eyes.

"It's alright. I've decided already." Shiho reached out to take hold of the other girl's hands once more. "I had to have a lot of therapy here to help me get through my trauma, and it helped me sort out my thoughts. The scars that man has left on me...they won't ever go away, no matter how hard I try. The despair that I felt...I won't ever be able to forget how it burned into my head. But I've decided that I won't live in that past. Instead, I've set my sights on the future. From now on, I want to practice to become a professional volleyball player. Then, when I become good enough and get on Japan's Olympic team...I can show everyone that my past doesn't define who I am. That someone who was a weakling like me can become strong too, but still remain kind at heart. What do you think, Ann? Will you support me...?" Shiho looked up at the crying girl, a small smile dancing on her lips.

"Of course I will! I'll always support you, Shiho. No matter what." Ann tried her best to keep her sobs in. Shiho couldn't help but laugh. She took Ann's wrists and pulled her down gently, motioning her to kneel down. Ann willingly complied. Shiho then reached out and patted Ann's head.

"There, there." Shiho whispered. "It's alright. Please, don't cry, Ann." Shiho cupped the blonde girl’s cheeks with her hands, wiping away the tears that flowed out of her eyes. "I'm sorry for making you cry.” She apologized. “I didn't mean to. Come on, cheer up a bit! You’re a model, aren’t you? You’ll get wrinkles...and...looking at you cry makes me want to cry too..." Shiho pressed her forehead against Ann's.

The familiar warmth comforted her. It made her feel safe. It was warmth that made her never want to let go. She was everything to her.

"Excuse me, Suzui-san?" A sweet voice called out. Shiho recognized the voice and reluctantly parted with Ann, while Ann quickly stood up and wiped away the rest of her tears with her sleeve.

"Ah, over here!" Shiho responded with a wave.

"Oh, there you are. Your rehab session is about to start soon. Let's go back to get you prepared." The woman who approached them was kind of short with ginger hair tied up in a sidetail, and her eyes shone blue with a warm light. It was Shiho's nurse.

"Thank you, Kousaka-san. Ann and I will be right there." The woman nodded and left.

"It's time, Ann." Shiho said. Ann nodded firmly, smiling again once she dried her tears.

"Right. I'll be there with you."

 Back in the hospital, Ann waited patiently nearby the rehab room. Shiho had to talk to some doctors first in another room, before heading inside. The same ginger-haired woman came out of the room and walked towards Ann with a clipboard in her hand.

"I'm glad you're here, Takamaki-chan." The woman said. "Shiho has been really looking forward to today. If she manages to reach all the way from one end of the bars to the other, it'll be a major milestone for her. Since you're here, I'm sure she'll be able to do it."

"Y-yeah!" Ann replied. "I'm really looking forward to watching her do it myself. She's come so far ever since..." She faded off.

"Ah, yes. She's talked to me personally about a little of those events. She doesn't like bringing it up though, no surprise there. I wouldn't either. Rather, she loves talking about you more." The nurse smiled and laughed.

"M-me?" Ann pointed at herself.

"Yes, you. You're just about the only thing Shiho will talk about nowadays, but I definitely don't blame her." The nurse grinned inwardly. Ann felt her face heat up, despite the chilling temperature the hospital AC was set at.

"S-so, what does she say about me?" Ann inquired.

"Oh my, if I were to tell you that, we'd be here all night." The older woman laughed heartily. "But, one thing I would tell you though..." She fell silent and looked down at her feet. Her held her clipboard a little closer to herself as her brows furrowed together.

"Takamaki-san, I'm sure you're already aware of this, but Shiho...The doctors thought Shiho would never wake up. They were certain that she would remain in a comatose state until she died.” The nurse looked up again back at Ann with her usual smile. “But somehow, she did wake up, and now she's almost able to walk on her own two feet again despite the damage to her spinal chord. It's nothing short of a miracle. When the topic came up while I was talking to her, all she did was laugh and smile. She said to me that when she was in her coma, she heard your voice speaking to her, and because of that, she wanted to wake up as soon as she could to see you again. She went on to say that if her waking up was considered a miracle, that must mean that you're her miracle."

Ann listened closely as the nurse explained.

"Takamaki-san. I know as a professional I shouldn't be saying this, but...Shiho...that girl...she really loves you. You're her light at the end of the tunnel." The nurse paused.

"Please don't break her heart."

Suddenly, the door to the room where Shiho and the doctors were talking swung open. Shiho appeared first, with her hair tied up in a ponytail again. A female doctor with short red hair pushed her along, while another doctor emerged from the room.

"We're ready to start. Please head on inside." One of them ushered.

Shiho was pushed along to one end of the parallel bars. Ann stood by on the outside of the bars.

"We can start whenever you're ready." Said the red haired doctor. Shiho nodded. She first gripped the smooth metal bars with her hands, then slowly began to rise to her feet. When she was sure she was steady enough, she stepped off the wheelchair pedals and onto the solid floor. She looked ahead. No matter what, she was going to reach the end today.

 Shiho took a deep breath and stepped forward.

 She started off at a good pace. She was advancing step by step, and Ann was with her the entire way. Ann was chanting for her, internally, of course. She didn't want to distract Shiho from this.

Go, Shiho!

You can do it!

I believe in you!

...Ann hoped that if her bond with Shiho was really so strong that Shiho could figure out that she was a Phantom Thief by pure intuition, then Shiho would hear her encouragement in her mind as well.

"Suzui-san, you've reached the halfway mark. Please keep it up." One of the doctors informed.

"Do your best, Shiho!" Ann added. Shiho smiled and thanked them.

Although Shiho's progress throughout the first half appeared to be seamless, her breathing gradually became more labored as she continued on each step. Sweat began to form on her forehead, and her steps became more staggered. Shiho was certainly approaching the end, but as Ann noticed the looks the doctors were giving each other, she too became concerned.

"Are you alright?" Ann whispered as she placed her hand on Shiho's.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Shiho answered. "I'm just getting a bit tired. I can make it though." Shiho assured them before taking another step. She winced as her heel touched the floor.

"Suzui-san, it's alright if you can't make it to the end today. We can always try again next time. You've already made remarkable progress." The red haired doctor said.

"No, I can do it!" Shiho shook her head in refusal and picked her leg up, but failed to take another step. She inhaled sharply.

"Suzui-san, it'd be best if we stopped here. At this rate, you might injure yourself if you force yourself anymore."

"I...I have to make it to the end! I'm only a few steps away...Please..." The doctors exchanged a worried look and conceded to the girl's wishes.

However, as she inched her next foot forward, a hand slipped from the metal bar, causing her to lose her grip and collapse.

"Shiho!" Ann cried. She quickly knelt down along with the nurse and doctors. Shiho's breathing was shaky, and her hands were trembling.

"Suzui-san, please, you shouldn't continue anymore. You may end up reversing the progress you've done so far..."

"But...I have to show Ann! I promised myself...that I would show her how far I've come. I'm not giving up!" Despite her ragged breathing, she lifted herself up again using her arms and steadied herself on her feet again. She took another deep breath.

Ann wanted to help. She wished that she could walk for her. She could feel herself beginning to cry again, just like the first time she had seen Shiho try and walk herself across these bars in pain. But Ann held back the tears. Instead, she walked over to the end of the bars.

"Shiho. Focus on me. You're almost there." She placed a hand over her heart, showing Shiho her support.

"Ann..." Shiho smiled. She steeled herself one more time, and marched forward. This time, her steps began to steady out. She kept her gaze on Shiho while she willed her legs to move forwards. Little by little, she began to close the distance between herself and Ann.

"Come on! Just a few more steps!" Ann cheered. "Come here, Shiho!" She spread her arms out. The other girl laughed.

"I'm coming!" Just one foot after the other.

5 more...

5 more steps seemed like 500. Shiho's legs felt like they had been filled with liquid lead.

4 more...

The tears Ann had tried to hold back began breaking through, streaming down cheeks.

3 more...

Shiho had blurred everything out now. The only thing in sight was her most important person.

Her miracle.

2 more...

Ann shouted another cheer for the girl.

The last step...

Shiho stumbled forwards. Ann caught her with her arms in an embrace, and began to sob into her shoulder.

"You did it! Shiho, you did it!" Ann cried.

"Did you see me, Ann!? I walked across the whole thing!"

"Yes! Yes I did!! I'm so happy...You were so strong."

"Yeah...Now...I can finally say that I'm stronger. Just like you...Ann..." Shiho pulled on Ann's clothes, closing the distance between their lips. Ann yelped, but once she had realized what was going on, she closed her eyes and held the girl in her arms tighter than she ever had before.

The nurse, as well as the two doctors, smiled at each other and left the room to give the two girls a moment by themselves.

[jestbee]

Trope-A-Dope #1

@killingmeitsso2yearsago said: One of my favourite is when one of them is doing a liveshow and somehow they slip up and they coming out live :-)

I loved this, so I made it a 5 + 1 (I know, how many more times am I gunna do this with a simple prompt?)

Enjoy!

And don’t forget to Send me prompts for this project with the most-used Phanfic tropes.

It’s Worth Deciding

(~5k, Fluff, coming out, 5+1)

The five times Dan and Phil nearly came out in a live stream. And the one time they did.

Title from Half Life by Duncan Sheik: “Before the truth goes back into hiding I want to decide ‘cause it’s worth deciding”

AO3 LINK

1.

It was a stupid idea really. He should have known better than to move the time of his show without telling Dan, but he really had wanted to finish the level of the game he was playing before he started and Dan was usually tuned in in the next room anyway. Except this time.

This time Dan had gone to see Louise and had come home at 9pm expecting Phil to be finished with his live show and ready to settle down on the couch for the evening, had set about making them dinner, oblivious to the fact that Phil was still maintaining a one sided conversation with thousands of subscribers in their living room.

It wasn’t his fault, it was barely Phil’s, but Dan didn’t hear Phil talking and Phil hadn’t told him that he’d decided to move the live show to half 8. Consequently, he was still live to around 15,000 people when Dan came storming into the living room carrying a jar of pasta sauce and one of curry.

“Pasta or curry, babe?”

Phil whipped his head up. Dan was out of shot, standing off behind the laptop, but his voice was instantly recognisable to the thousands of people watching.

The chat was awash with ‘Is that Dan?!’ and ‘OMFGOD DID he just call Phil Babe?!!!!!’ it was moving so quickly Phil could only just make each message out before another one appeared.

Dan was quicker to react than Phil, jumping in front of the screen waving the jars and laughing it off.

“This guy” Dan said gesturing to Phil with one of the jars. Phil isn’t sure which one. “Slave driver, I tell you. You lose one little game of rock paper scissors and I have to cook his stupid dinner…”

“Fair’s fair” Phil said distractedly as he watched the chat still moving at lightening speed.

Dan stayed until the end. Moving the conversation on to commenting on other questions from the chat. Phil wasn’t sure they were even real, but he mostly just let the moment wash over him.

They ignored it, like they always did. Tumblr debated the audio clips of it for a few weeks, arguing over whether Dan’s voice had said ‘babe’ or ‘mate’. It became another thing in their history, more dubious ‘proof’ dragged out at random intervals but neither of them acknowledged it again.

Nothing really changed except that Phil didn’t forget to tell Dan when he moved his live show anymore and after that, Dan always left a moment’s pause before saying anything upon entering a room. It was another adaption they made, another concession to their ongoing secret keeping and it didn’t really bother them, much.

This is what they’ve decided.

2.

Rule one of a Dan live show: never take anything he says seriously. He’d tried to hammer this point home over the years, mostly he was successful and the ambiguity worked well with his branding. The end result was that most things he said were taken out of context, but they weren’t said with much context anyway so it usually didn’t matter so much.

Live shows were always a cause of mild anxiety for Dan, which is probably why he kept everything so blurry, fell unexpectedly into pseudo-intellectual rants and ‘accidental’ life advice.  

Phil obviously planned his, bringing props and conversation starters, as he often did in real life interactions, whipping out unexpected animal facts at the mere hint of a dip in activity. Dan planned too, but he planned what to say, wrote down bullet points of which life events he could talk about, referred to videos and tweets, inane stories about domestic tidbits that fueled the chat just enough to keep them from insisting he answer the bigger questions. In short, he walked a fine line kept only in tact because he tried his damn hardest not to be caught off guard.

Which is why a combination of tiredness and rushing causes him to unravel.

He’d run in from a busy day, barely had time to even log in to the site and battle with error messages and agonising loading times before his own face is staring back at him from the screen and he realises he’s forgotten his trademark post-it with acceptable anecdotes, left it on the desk upstairs in the office where it sits uselessly on their wall calendar.

It isn’t too much of a big deal at first. The chat is mostly tame, asking him how he is and about tweets he’d posted in the last week and the video they’d uploaded on the gaming channel and he manages to stay within the realms of acceptable.

But he’s tired. So tired from the day and running about and all he wants is to crawl into bed beside Phil who he knows is sleeping off a headache in the next room. He hasn’t been home all day but Phil had text him earlier to say that he was experiencing one of the bad ones and that he was going to take pain killers and get into bed early.

And Dan hadn’t been able to come home yet, being in so much of a rush from the meetings he’d had to attend alone, which meant he hadn’t even had chance to go and see him before he had to start the stream, so when he sees the five hundredth ‘get Phil’ appear in the chat he’s almost had enough.

“I can’t get Phil” Dan says with a sigh, “He’s asleep in the bedroom.”

It takes him much longer than it should before he realises his mistake. <i>The.</i> It’s simple. It should be <i>his</i> or <i>Phil’s</i> but it’s not. It is The really. The room he’s in now is, for all intents and purposes, Dan’s bedroom. In the sense that all his clothes and stuff are stored in here and all of Phils are stored in the other one, but they don’t sleep in here.

Perhaps if one of them is feeling particularly insomniac that evening they will, or when they are trying to avoid the inevitable sharing of germs when one of them gets sick, or for appearances when people not in their inner circle stay after house parties. They even, on occasion, make a show of sleeping apart after some stupid fight or other but it’s only a matter of time before one of them is crawling in beside the other, pressing cold toes against warm shins and sliding into each other’s arms with hushed sorrys and gentles kisses.

It’s all over the chat. It’ll be all over the internet come morning in ‘Phan proof’ compilation videos and gif sets and god knows what else. He’ll have the phrase ‘asleep in the bedroom’ tweeted at him for weeks and it’s enough to make him exhausted of it all. He ends the show early and doesn’t even bother to tidy up. Simply shuts his laptop, turns out the lights and makes his way to Phil’s bedroom.

He strips down to his boxers, lifts Phil’s laptop from his side of the bed and crawls in beside him.

“I don’t think it’s that bad.” He hears whispered into the dark.

“God, you were watching?”

Dan feels Phil shrug as he slips an arm over his waist. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Missed me eh?” Dan tries to chuckle, “You’re such trash for me.”

Phil rolls over to face him in the dark and nods. “Since the first time I saw you on skype. Kind of reminded me of when you used to ramble on while I fell asleep.”

“Yeah I was incoherent and stupid then too.”

“No,” Phil says, sliding his nose against Dan’s and dipping to kiss him softly, “You were perfect.”

He’s soppy and sleepy from the painkillers. Drowsy and beautiful in the dim light and Dan hugs him softly into his chest, heated skin again his.

There’s some silence as Phil lets his eyes drift shut again, relaxing into Dan’s arms, legs mingled together beneath the sheets.

“You really think it won’t be that bad?”

“No,” Phil sighs, “I think it will. And you’ll get it worse than I do as always, but we’ll ignore it and it will go away.

“Right.” Dan agrees faintly, because that’s what they do. “Is your head still bad?”

“Hmm” Phil says without opening his eyes.

Dan slides one hand into Phils hair and strokes it lightly, running his fingers over his temples and forehead. “Better?”

Phil hums at the contact and Dan continues stroking until his breathing evens out and he’s soft and pliant in his arms. He stayed there, a hand in Phil’s hair and the darkness of <i>the</i> bedroom surrounding them and they don’t decide anything, but then they don’t really need to.

3.

Phil doesn’t mean to. All he did was answer the phone to his mum like he had done numerous times before, always with the rushed ‘I’m in a live show’ at the beginning. Not that he’s afraid she’ll say anything, because she never would usually, there’d be no reason for her to and yet…

“Hi mum I’m in a–”

“I can’t stop love,” his mum barrels on over the top of his warning, “I’ve got so much to do. I just wanted to check whether you two are still coming up this weekend.”

“Yes but–”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you third wheeling with Martyn and Cornelia.”

“Err… Great. Yeah. Got to go mum, I’m in a liveshow.”

“You’re what–”

And phil puts the phone down. He doesn’t think he’s ever put the phone down on his mum before.

It’s not what she said exactly. Because the fact that Phil is bringing <i>someone</i> to his parent’s house this weekend, someone who will stop him being a third wheel, doesn’t mean that its Dan. But the implication is there. And the fact that he’d be third wheeling alone doesn’t mean that the person making him not be a third wheel is his own date. But the implication is there. So it stands to reason that nothing his mum said would imply that Dan is coming, as his date, to a wedding of a family friend and they’re staying at his parent’s house this weekend. But the implication is there.

And it’s that implication that makes him put the phone down and become distracted and lackluster for the rest of the show. It’s there in the comments, the speculation and the questioning, but Phil tries to ignore it. It’s the usual tactic.

“It shouldn’t be a big deal though” Dan says later when he’s hopped up on the counter next to Phil who is stirring spices into chicken in a pan.

“It shouldn’t” Phil agrees, “But that’s our life I guess. It’s the price we pay.”

“You always say that. But, I mean, would it be a big deal if we just, didn’t censor this stuff?”

Phil rests the spoon on the edge of the pan.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know, exactly” Dan admits, “Just that it’s fucking stupid that I can’t go to a wedding with my boyfriend without thousands of people on the internet commenting on it.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s quite as simple as you’re reducing it to there but… in a way you’re right.”

Dan huffs and Phil moves the pan from the heat, turns off the stove and moves to wiggle between Dan’s knees. He slides his hands to the tops of Dan’s thigh and squeezes gently.

“One day it will be that simple” Phil promises with a casual kiss pressed to the end of Dan’s nose, “One day we’ll just be able to say we’re going to a wedding and everyone will think we’re boring and be so over it that no one will even tweet us.”

“So we’re closeted and popular or out and no longer relevant. Great positive outlook on our future there Philly.”

Phil pouts and puts his arms securely around Dan’s waist.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

“I meant that one day it won’t be a thing. We’ll be out and happy and everyone will just be used to it. It won’t be news.”

Dan sighs and ducks his head to rest his forehead on Phil’s shoulder.  “How do we get to your magical utopian future?”

“I don’t know,” Phil says honestly. “But we will.”

It feels like a decision. It’s not something they’ve vocalised before, at least not to each other,  but it’s out there now, swimming around them, tempting and vibrant.

“I want to go to there,” Dan whispers, only smirking slightly.

“Stick with me,” Phil assures him, “I’ll get us there.”

4.

YouTube parties. There’s a certain unspoken pact that everyone enters into in the environment that makes them drop their guard. It’s an unspoken rule that cameras are to be left abandoned out of sight. They all need a moment of reprieve, of being out in the world without fear, not trapped behind locked doors, hidden and secretive. They can share themselves with this corner of the world, because it isn’t just them that are tucking themselves back away as soon as the cameras come out.

And so they relax. Slips fingers between fingers, step into each other’s space, touch longer, smile wider and drop the pretence that so often lingers over them. They are not careful, because they don’t need to be.

Beyond the bubble they’ve created is the circling hazard of inexperienced youth. Unbeknownst to them a 16 year old YouTuber, new to the scene and recently denied the pleasure of ordering alcohol at this party, decides to make a name for himself. He loads up the live stream section of instagram and announces in a hushed voice, face illuminated by neon flashing lights, that he’s going to expose the reason why no one vlogs at YouTube parties.

They aren’t the only ones he captures on camera that night. A few other secrets are exposed, and in much higher definition than they had been. But even the blurry image of their backs, bodies pressed together from shoulder to hip, arms slung carelessly about each other, faces dipped close, is recognisable enough to send a shockwave through various social media platforms.

Tumblr blogs zoom in tight, Twitter accounts make their profile pictures this solitary still image of two dark haired blurs leaning towards each other. It’s not proof, but it’s damning anyway.

It doesn’t last, and neither does the young YouTuber’s career, but it’s enough to stir a conversation that’s long overdue.

“We need to decide.” Phil announces.

Dan doesn’t need to ask what about. “We do.”

“I have absolutely no idea how though.”

Dan shrugs, “Me either. We’ve sort of backed ourselves into a corner haven’t we?”

“Liars or hypocrites,” Phil agrees.

It’s a phrase they’ve said so many times over the years. They come out and they’re liars. Judged for keeping a secret that formed in the early days, when they were trying to protect the fragile, sacred thing they’d been building. Just holding it back between them until it felt more solid, more permanent.

So they lied, by omission if not by the constant use of ‘friend’ when they meant ‘partner’, ‘lover’, ‘everything’. By the time it felt real enough that they could have shared it, it was too late. Their careers and lives twined so tightly but so precariously that any tiny shift could mean eternal ruin, especially when they’d made so many sacrifices, taken so many risks, just to have a chance at it.

They come out and they’re liars. Or else they keep their secret and they’re hypocrites.

They have chanted a constant litany of self acceptance through the years. The mantra of ‘do what makes you happy’ put forth from both of them in various and prolific ways and it’s a small irony that they don’t take their own advice. But they’re never actually decided that this will be their lot forever, have never actually drawn a line in the sand that they’ll never step over.

They can be one, or they can be the other, and as the tweeted replies, tumblr tags and youtube comments roll in, each touting one blurry image as a demand for satisfaction to a question that has been asked more times that they would ever dare to count, they have to decide.

5.

In the end it’s not quite an accident, but not yet a conscious effort. They simply stop… trying. They don’t lower their guard, don’t start flaunting about everything they hold most precious, but they do stop the obvious denial and argumentative contradiction.

It’s a joint live show because they have news. There will be a video too but they’ve wanted to express it more fluidly, to feel an instant response perhaps rather than dragging themselves through the  effort of shooting and editing and waiting while the comments load. Instead they huddle close together on their couch, framed from the waist up and full of happy, excited smiles.

“So we’ve got some news,” Phil says about 40 minutes in, swiping his fringe back into place with the side of his fingers. It’s nervous habit that Dan grins at fondly.

“That’s right you fiends, hold on to your trashy bedazzled hats cus me and Phil, we’ve got some pretty big news.”

Phil wants to roll his eyes, because Dan playing up to a camera is just so typical but it’s something he’s grown so accustomed to over the years. So much so that now he’s exasperatedly fond of his weird over-egged danisnotonfire personality.

“Why are their hats bedazzled?”

“I don’t know,” Dan says with a side eye to the camera, “You’d have to ask them. Weirdos.”

“You can’t call them weirdos, Dan.”

“Course I can Philly. They’re weirdos, with their weird kinky group chat names and their meme trash shitposts. Yeah…” he leans closer to the laptop, pointing an accusing finger, “you know who you are.”

“Dan, Dan, stop.” Phil says with a tender hand on his arm, “Sit back down.”

“Fine Phil, protect those smol beans.”

“I will.” Phil coughs, “Err… so, news.”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to tell them?”

“Macie in the chat says HURRY UP, OMFG.” Dan laughs. He’s clearly enjoying the build up.

Phil is too, but he’s unnaturally nervous about it for some reason, there’s a lot sort of riding on it and they have no way to tell how people will react. The live show chat is just a tester anyway, so they can prepare for the onslaught when they actually do put out a proper video tomorrow. By that time it will be all over the internet anyway, and hopefully people will be used to the idea.

So Dan’s worried and is over acting everything. Swinging from one extreme to the other, loud and brash and fidgeting with things just out of eyeline of the camera. He’s distracted like he always gets when his head is full of the ‘what ifs’ and Phil is distracted by Dan.

Which is why he can be forgiven for jumping the gun and letting the phrase ‘we bought a house and we’re moving and we won’t be in this flat anymore’ spill from his mouth like rainwater where they’d agreed they’d remain ambiguous on the exact capacity in which they had acquired said new living quarters. They’d planned to hint at renting again, they’d planned to say ‘we’ in a way that didn’t imply they had made a huge real estate investment. Together. With joint finances.

They hadn’t planned to lie, just skirt around the truth. Phil, instead, had blurted it all out.

But they don’t see the expected explosion of ‘Phan is real’ in the chat, though it’s most certainly there. Instead it’s crammed between the barrage of ‘OMG’ and ‘I’m so happy for you guys’ and ‘yay storage’.

People are happy. And they aren’t focussing on the lie, aren’t calling them out on everything that has previously gone unsaid or been blatantly refuted, instead they’re focussing on the future and what is to come.

It’s harder when the video lands, and they receive far more of the expected commentary on the situation, even though they tried to tamper the message slightly so that not so much of them is exposed. Settling for, ‘we’re moving to a new place’ rather than Phil’s original, but more revealing, statement.

But the initial flood of positivity fills them with hope that it might not be as bad as they fear, and when they close the laptop lid after the live show and grin at each other with a sheen to their eyes they’ll deny later, they don’t need to voice their decision out loud.

+1 

“Hello” they say in unison.

“I almost said DanAndPhilGAMES and panicked that I hadn’t thought of a name” Phil laughs.

“Why would you–” Dan start in a high pitched voice, “No, best not to ask. Hi everyone, welcome to the live show.”

“I’m just used to doing it when you’re sat next to me,” Phil shrugs, grinning widely and spinning in his desk chair slightly.

“Oh cus of the computer chairs?” Dan asks, “Grace in the chat wants to know why we’re sat in the computer chairs and where are you and Blah blah blah. All in good time Grace, all in good time.”

“You can’t keep them hanging.”

“Can’t I?” Dan says, rubbing his hands together.

“No.” Phil shakes his head defiantly in Dan’s direction before turning back to the camera. “You guys know we’re in our new house and this,” he waves his hands about manically, circling the blank space behind them, “Is going to be the new gaming room.”

“Yeah, totally snazzy background. Don’t worry, we won’t be leaving it like this is just things are hectic people, there’s only so many boxes of stuff I can lug about before it becomes like, actual exercise.”

“I know my arms are killing me,” Phil demonstrates by wiggling his arm, “When did we get so much stuff?”

“I don’t know. But anyway, I’ve got lots of ideas about the aesthetic of this background, I can feel the creative juices flowing and…”

“Dan.” Phil interrupts. “The people just want the sofa bed back.”

“Well too bad you little shits, cus it’s gone.”

“Yeah, it was so broken guys, it never recovered from when Dan broke it so it was a casualty of the move. Like, the minute we tried to move it…” he makes a breaking noise.

“When I broke it?” Dan’s mouth falls open, “Right guys, write in the chat who you think broke the sofa bed.”

They watch it scroll for a moment.

“See.”

“I didn’t break it.” Phil insists, “I didn’t.”

“Whatever Philly. Megan wants to know when they’ll get a house tour.” Dan read, “We just moved in so probably not for a while. We have boxes everywhere, I don’t know how we’re going to get to the bed.”

“I know,” Phil responds without missing a beat, because this had been the plan, their decision to do it with as little fanfare as possible. “I swear the bedroom is the worst. Emily in the chat says ‘make a box fort’ that’s a brilliant idea.

“Nope. I can see you getting excited about it Phil but honestly, we’d have to stack stuff so high cus we’re like giraffes and it’s just asking for trouble.”

“You’re no fun.” Phil pouts.

“I’m tons of fun.” Dan insists, followed by an improvised little hum, “God the chat is going so quickly.”

“The bed.” Phil says, deadpan. “The bedroom.”

“Yeah yeah, old news. Keep up guys, its 2018, stuffs gone down in the past year, haven’t you been paying attention?”

“Let’s do some premium messages.” Phil says and then tips his head sideways slightly as if checking to see whether Dan agrees.

“Trashpile324- Good username there- says ‘Get a dog’.” Dan reads, “Maybe,” he shrugs, ”at some point.”

“Doggo!” Phil enthuses, “Cus, garden.”

“Yep. Totally Shibe-friendly the new garden.”

“Or corgi.” Phil insists.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Eternal debate” he says to the camera, “Don’t even think about what happens when we try to name it.”

“What’s wrong with Thor?” Phil asks

“Nothing exactly, except I’m not shouting Thor in the park when we take it for a walk.”

Phil laughs, tongue poking between his teeth.

“It’s got to be something that’s reflective of us as people and of the dog’s personality.”

“Rebecca says ‘if it’s this hard naming a dog can you imagine them with kids’ yeah I know! It’s difficult cus it’s like a huge responsibility naming something or someone. They have to live with it. Forever.”

“Whatever man, they can change it if they want to. No pressure. Like, they can be whoever they want to.”

They both giggle and they leave the subject there, move on to other things. That’s enough for one show, and the chat is exploding as it is. They don’t ignore it, not this time. And they don’t cover anything up or lie or hide, but they don’t come right out and say it either.

It’s all there though. Between the lines, hinted at, implied, in the footnotes. It’s there if you look, and this is what they’ve decided. Because the time for explaining and going over everything has long since passed. They were never going to be like that anyway.

Instead they decide to just, live. To just be. And it’s easier than they thought it could be, quieter and calmer than they’d thought possible.

Eventually they say ‘babe’ in a live show without it being a dreadful mistake. They slip ‘boyfriend’ and ‘love’ into conversations without much fuss. Letting it trip over into ‘husband’ and ‘family’ a few years after and ‘dad’ after a few more.

It happens without acknowledgment that it is, worked into the tapestry of their lives as if it had always been there, threaded through their world in ways that make you squint to see how anything is different to how it had always been.

They decide, and they keep deciding.

[flossinginthesunshine]

Laos PDR: Part II

Never ones to miss to a good bargain, we spent our last night in Luang Prabang checking prices at a dozen different travel agencies in search of the cheapest bus fare to Vang Vieng a river town 6-9 hours south of us (time range depends on type of bus, quality of driver, direction of wind, air in the tires, how often the driver stops to pee….really, any and every reason has come up before). Our Dutch friends from our hike in Northern Laos gave us a tip for a hole-in-the-wall place, and we successfully bought tickets for $2 less than every other operator in town.

We arranged to be picked up just outside our guest house at 6:30am and were told to be on the lookout for a silver passenger van. We were up, packed and out the door at 6:25am, only to realize that there was no way a big van could fit down our tiny alley. Maybe the van would be waiting for us on a main road near by? But which main road, since our guesthouse alley dumped out on either side of a main road? Camryn went left, I sped off to the right, and together we covered about 200 meters of road where this silver passenger van might pass.

6:30 turned to 6:45, to 7, to 7:15, to finally 7:30. Camryn and I had been pacing the road for a full hour, frantically waving at every silver van that passed by. Keep in mind… the Chinese New Year is still in full force, and the entire town Luang Prabang is crowded with Chinese tour groups driving in massive fleets of silver vans. We sure were a sight to behold -- two fully wired white people with big backpacks chasing down van after van after van, only to be completely ignored by the drivers.

At 7:30am, Camryn convinced a local shopkeeper to call our tour company and ask for a status update. Low and behold, not enough people had signed up for the early morning bus, and we weren’t going to be picked up until 9:30am. While we were frustrated that no one told us about the change… we also knew that it would have been impossible for them to let us know. We didn’t have SIM cards in Laos, and it’s not like we are Facebook friends with the bus operators. We bought some coffee, grabbed a pastry, and sat on the corner until our chariot arrived at 9:30am.

Of course, it didn’t actually arrive at 9:30. Or 9:45, or 10. Shortly after 10:15am, a silver van rolls by and Camryn and I once again performed our silver van dance. This time… it worked! Our van had finally arrived. Onwards to Vang Vieng.

Note about transportation in Laos: while distances may be short (Vang Vieng is only 220 km away from Luang Prabang), the roads are windy, hilly, full of potholes and dangerously skinny in width. At most, our van was rolling along at 40km/hour. The road between Luang Prabang and Vang Vieng, one of the main “highways” in Laos, is more reminiscent of a 4x4 fire road you would find in a U.S. National Forest. If you stretch the definition of pavement to include anything that even attempts to seal a road, you can call it sucesfully paved. As we travelled through the beautiful countryside, a thick smoke filled the air and almost blocked out the blue sky. Fires were spreading across the land, as the Hmong villages prepared for the wet season by slashing and burning their agricultural fields. The smell is quite pungent, but you get used to it after a while.

It’s common practice in SE Asia for bus drivers to stop along the way and pick up additional locals who are looking to go in our direction, assuming there are still open seats on the bus. Given the slow speed of transit, it’s quite easy for a local to stand on the roadside and flag down a driver. If the van is full it simply keeps driving past; however, if there are any openings, the driver quickly comes to a stop and discusses a price with the local. While we may pay $10 USD to go from A to B, locals getting picked up in this fashion may only pay $1-$2. The bus drivers never report these ‘additional passengers’ to their bosses, so all this becomes pocket money for the drivers. While drivers are not technically allowed to do this, and tour operators will advertise that their drivers don’t make these stops when you are booking tickets… it happens all of the time. Typically it’s no bother, as it only adds one minute per stop and there are usually open seats.

HOWEVER, on this particular journey, it got out of control. These additional local passengers, quickly outnumbering the western tourists paying full price for tickets, started doing their grocery shopping on our route! We must have stopped at 3-4 markets along the way, and waited (patience quickly vacating my body) while they picked the ripest papayas and mangos from streetside stalls. We stopped at a corner store so a passenger could pick up a big case of beer, and at one restaurant so a local could order food from the menu and wait for it to be packed up in a to-go container. We had easily added an extra 90 minutes to our journey when I came to my breaking point as we slowed down at another market. I piped up from the back of bus, quite loudly and full of frustration:

Driver! If you stop at this market, I will call your boss and tell him what you have been up to. I have his business card w/ email and phone number on it (this was a lie, I had no way to get in touch w/ anyone) and will happily tell him how you wasted over an hour of time time, and I’ll put it all over TripAdviser advising tourists to go with a different bus company. You have already made enough money from these people; they can do their shopping on their own time. I’m sure your boss won’t be happy to hear about this.”

At this point, all the locals turned to look at me, and even Cam wasn’t quite sure what to think about my frank conversation with the driver. Did he understand a word of what I was saying? Not sure, but he grumbled a few things, threw some nasty glances my way in the rearview mirror, and sped back up on the highway. Needless to say, we didn’t make any more unplanned stops. When we arrived in Vang Vieng, he pleaded w/ me not to contact his boss.

It is now 3pm and we’re exhausted, hot and both dealing with a bit of carsickness. One more hurdle to jump over before we can kick back and relax: where to sleep. We were unable to book lodging in Vang Vieng because (thanks, once again, Chinese New Year) the only listings left online were asking well over $100 USD per night, so we headed off on an epic journey through town to find a guesthouse. For context, it is mid 90 degrees outside and we have our big packs on our back and small packs on our front. Many guesthouses were full… a few were nasty… and one turned out to be right next door to a loud karaoke bar that only started playing music right after we had said yes to a room, checked in and laid down. We promptly returned the key and said NO THANK YOU. Always an adventure, right? 

Like everything always does, it all worked out in the end. We made it to Vang Vieng safely and eventually  we found a nice hotel in a good part of town with a queen sized comfy bed. We relied on each other for support (Cam was my rock that day; it was an emotional whirlwind for me, and I was totally spent and pretty much worthless by the end), and enjoyed long showers and some A/C before going to bed early.

^rooftop yoga at sunset

We spent four days hiking in the hills, kayaking and tubing down the river, and relaxing in this gorgeous riverside town while peering out at the massive karst cliffs surrounding us.

And most importantly... we made friends! One afternoon while relaxing at a riverside restaurant called “Smile Bar,” we struck up a conversation with the couple in the canopy next to us. Garrett & Sarafina are from Scottsdale, Arizona, and also quit their jobs to travel throughout Morocco and SE Asia for six months. We bonded over music festivals, our favorite bands, quitting our jobs, and the trials and triumphs of life on the road… and quickly realized they were kindred spirits who would become lifelong friends and travel partners of ours.

^ Smile Bar

These two are wonderful to be around and have added so much joy to our trip. Outgoing, spontaneous, kind, empathetic, spiritual, inquisitive… you name the positive quality, and they have it. To solidify the friendship even further… they are also keen to rise early in the morning and be in bed by 10pm. Our kind of people! As fate would have it, their rough itinerary for the next few months was nearly identical to ours, and we’ve now been travelling with them for almost a full month :).

From Vang Vieng we embarked on our first sleeper bus of the trip, with the final destination being Pakse. To our delight, Cam and I actually shared 1 bed (1 bed = 2 seats) so we were able to enjoy a nearly full night’s sleep. I can only imagine how awkward it would be to share a bed with a complete stranger, which would be the inevitable case if you chose to book only one seat.  The guy across the aisle from us drank four beers in the hour leading up to the bus ride, and then promptly took two valium (we know this because he proudly told the whole bus and then offered up any valium if anyone around us would like it). We passed on the valium. That gentleman… he slept through both bathroom stops, not moving a muscle or changing his position for the entire 12-hour ride. We shouldn’t be surprised after what he ingested, and we were happy to see he was alive by the end of it!

As you may recall from our India posts, we last saw our Dutch friends -- Hans and Isabelle -- in Pushkar and had made rough plans to “meet up somewhere in SE Asia at a later date.” We stayed in touch every week or so, checking calendars and discussing ideas for a rendezvous, and finally reunited in Pakse as they were nearing the very end of their trip! It was was so wonderful to see them again after nearly two months apart, and over a sub-par Indian dinner (pro tip: don’t try to eat Indian food in a small town in Laos after spending two months eating the real thing)... we caught up on their latest adventures in India and southern Thailand and ours in northern Thailand and Laos.

Now we had a gang of six… a biker gang of six to be precise. Pakse is the launching point for the Bolovan Plateau, an area of Laos that is best explored by motorbike. The six of us (Garrett, Sarafina, Hans, Isabelle, Cam and myself) left our big packs at a guesthouse and rode off into the Laos countryside on three motorbikes, with one small daypack per couple. We spent two days riding nearly 300km through the rolling hills, jumping off waterfalls along the way whenever possible.

The highlight of our time on the Boloven Plateau took place on our first night in the town of Tad Lo. Camryn had read online that a nearby resort owns two elephants and bathes them in the river every night at 5:30pm. It was an incredibly intimate and authentic experience… and we didn’t pay a dime. In Thailand you’d pay well over $100 to spend five minutes with an elephant, and you’d be questioning just how fairly they were being treated the entire time.

The elephant we took a liking to was named Moon. She was 65-years-old and was retired after spending 40 years as a working elephant in the Laos countryside in the logging industry, conquering feats of incredible strength seven days a week. During this time she was always treated with respect by her crew, fed well, and never abused. This resort in Tad Lo bought her five years ago, and has been allowing her to live out her remaining years in peace and tranquility. She no longer works; she simply “hangs out” with the resort guests and eats huge amounts of bananas and sugarcane for dinner each night. We spent nearly two hours with Moon and the owner, asking a million questions and getting up close and personal with her. We felt the strength of her jaws, put our hands inside the holes where her tusks would have been if she had them, looked into her big beautiful brown eyes and gave her more hugs than we can count. There were no chains and she wasn’t drugged like many animals are in these situations… she was simply a happy, retired elephant who allowed us to experience her majestic beauty to our heart’s desire. Thank you Moon. We won’t ever forget you.

That night, we feasted! The six of us (plus two additional friends -- Chido and Daisy -- who we met in Pakse and were also doing the motorbike loop) settled down for dinner at a local guesthouse that only had one menu available for the entire restaurant. We swapped travel stories well into the night while passing around bowls of noodles, papaya salads, fresh fruit and ice cream. Four local kids between the ages of 4-10 (who we assumed were the restaurant owner’s kids) joined us and took a liking to our cell phones. Not the least bit shy, they sat on our laps and took selfies, played games and giggled like crazy. When our food came out, they grabbed forks and started shoveling down our fried noodles as if they hadn’t eaten in days! We couldn’t be too upset as the portions were HUGE and these kids were adorable… but it got a little out of hand as they ended up eating more than we did.

We joked that the reason the restaurant owner made the portions so big was so the guests wouldn’t get mad when their kids ate half of our meal… but then to our surprise the kids’ actual mom came over from next door and called them home without saying a word to us! They didn’t actually belong to the restaurant owner, but they had successfully gotten a free and delicious dinner out of us that night.

^ She always finds puppies.

^Main road in Don Det, 4k Islands.

Last on our list in Laos was the island of Don Det, which is located in an area of Southern Laos known as the 4,000 Islands. Don Det, the biggest of the islands, is without a doubt the chillest place we have been in Asia. A small dirt path runs around the island (5 mile circumference), and there are no cars or taxi’s. Here, our days were spent reading in the hammocks on the front porch of our bungalow, kayaking to smaller islands, eating green curry at the restaurant next door every single night for dinner (it was that good), and riding old rickety bicycles to the other side of the island for homemade ice cream.

In our next post, you’ll hear all about our adventures in Cambodia!

JJ