#he's on the Christmas card and he didn't expect it but he's here now

[sunsetzer]

Ardyn's opera omnia arc is my favourite because he gets closure and so do I after his dlc made me very upset

[goldsbitch]

That one night stranded

There is good sex...and then there is good sex. And when you know and love someone, it's very easy to tell when they fall into an anxiety trap and try to fuck it out.

Lando is determined to have good sex only for the rest of his life.

Or - Lando and Y/N get stranded in between flights. accidental 7k epilogue p.2 to That one Christmas flight, but can be read as a stand-alone

warning: angst, shit family, smut, p in v, oral, minors DNI, typos, couple therapists - please leave, i'm not ready for your judgement

//

There were two very different text message chains happening in the hotel lobby, where the young couple stood, waiting for the receptionist who was coding they key card.

Lando's phone was bursting up with family photos, taken the day before. Lots of smiley faces, tables overflowing with food and pictures blurred up, because the person taking the photo was most likely laughing too hard to stay still. And even better - most of the messages were words of praise his family had for his no-so-new girlfriend. He knew well enough his family was proud of him nevertheless. Somehow, bringing home someone who fit in right easily, laughed at the same jokes and earned a sincere approval, filled up a hole he had no idea was present in his heart.

This one night they'd "earned" by the delayed flight felt like a reward. They'd done great together. Alone time was a rare luxury, especially when it was unexpected and not planned out for weeks. He glanced over to her, glued to her phone in a similar way that he was. Only difference being the furrowed brows.

The other text chain was Y/N and her mother. Right when the reality sank in - the fact that no plane would be able to fly to Japan with these weather conditions - her heart did too. She'd somehow hoped it would be different. That her mother would save the snarky comments. Yet she found a way to make this all seem like Y/N's fault.

You should have taken an earlier flight.

She knew it was irrational. But yes, if they had opted for the earlier flight, they'd be in the air by now. Funny, how only parents know the exact formula to make one’s brain switch off the rational part. It was the hidden undertone in the text messages. Her mom would usually save those for phone calls. The last thing Y/N wanted to do at the moment. You're too reckless. Not organized enough. Being late is your fault. Bad planning. Do you even care about seeing me? I took a day off from work to spend time with you. Are you sure about bringing the racer boy over here?

Guilt filled up her stomach and her eyes were glued to the phone, hoping for more letters to appear. Something along the lines like "have a safe flight". Or "I'm looking forward to finally meeting Lando". Words she knew would never appear. She felt her boyfriend's arm embrace her as he exchanged few final words with the receptionist. The specific info got lost on her, but the tone spoke on it's own. Even a stranger could pick up on his unmasked joy and comfort. He didn't mind they were stranded for few hours. She wished for that kind of peace of mind. His family had been incredibly lovely to her. Accepted her the way she was and gave her enough space to express herself. She was ready for "double checking" or some sort of acceptance tests. Expected to have to prove herself to them more. None of that came. Part of her was secretly infuriated by that. There was no way in hell Lando would get the same treatment. Y/N wished she could provide that comfort for him too. It resembled the same feeling she had when he came to her apartment for the first time and she forgot to put away all the mugs overflowing the nightstand. Like something that was her responsibility to fix, clean up before he even knew this was a thing.

"Look at me, honey," he said in the elevator, his finger pulling her chin up. His eyes scanned her with a look she grew to love. Pure, unfiltered adoration. "Feels like we got gifted a night only for ourselves. I can't think of anything better to receive." She smiled as best as she could, trying to get on his level of ease. But one thought sat in her brain, unwilling to make space for anything else. Today's bliss for tomorrow's misery.

"You're right, as always," she replied, trying to convince herself maybe more than him. The kiss she gave him afterwards was to divert his attention from looking at her, because she knew from experience, he'd soon see right through her.

"Have you texted your mom that we'll be late?" he asked, unaware of her bubbling anxiety.

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, trying to dismiss the situation.

//

Who cares that mom thinks he's just a reckless celebrity. Would an immature asshole who "can't possibly care about me in the longterm" be say things like that? It was pure fire running through her veins. Maybe it really was a gift, these few hours they got extra. The reality was that even if they'd arrived on time, fresh and dressed up as a cookie cutter loved up couple, her mom would still find something wrong to drill about later. Screw that. Last few moments of solitude.

She was standing in a hotel room bathroom, looking into the mirror, trying to calm herself down.

This worked perfectly into Lando's favor, him still being completely high on the good Christmas vibes. The minute she excused herself, he got on the phone with the hotel concierge and offered to throw any amount of money at them if they'd manage to follow up on his impromptu request. By some miracle, the trail with cold champagne, strawberries and few roses arrived before she returned from the bathroom. When his lovely girlfriend entered the room again, he greeted her with a dramatic spin, rose in one, a tall glass in the other hand. His interpretation of an angelic smile plastered on his face. The plan of catching her off guard worked. She stood there for a moment, taking the scenery in.

"Lando..." she said, speechless enough to muster anything more.

He winked at her and stepped closer. "It is technically our anniversary..." he said, like an open invitation.

Y/N stared at the loved up guy standing in front of her. Mother's voice still ringing in her head. All composure she managed to gain by staring at herself in the mirror gone in a second. How can anyone, ever and anywhere think that Lando, her Lando, is anything but a perfect boyfriend. How can her mother feed her with words like reckless, immature, wild and careless...without ever even meeting him in person. Her phone dinged with the sound a text message and she just knew it was her mom again. She didn't even bother looking at the notification.

"You're perfect, you know that?" she blurbed slowly. Once again, as if more to herself than to him.

His smile grew wider. "I try my best," he noted with a tone that could only be described as playful.

"Many people forget anniversaries..."

"To be fair, it is easier if it's pinned to annoyingly recognized holiday..." he joked and handed her the glass. "Do not ask me when we actually got together, because I don't think there is enough champagne around here for me to apologize for not knowing that date."

She smirked and accepted the glass.

"You did kind of just admit that yourself, you know..."

"I know, but, you didn't ask, so it doesn't count."

He knew her well enough to know that she was about to ask exactly that just to tease him, so interrupted her before she had a chance to even breathe in.

"Toast! To us! To the best outcome a desperate secret meeting at Honda could ever have!"

Giving up on teasing him, she clinked her glass with his. "To the Christmas champagne tradition."

He leaned in and kissed her before tasting the champagne. If it weren't for the symbolic gesture, he'd order anything else. Champagne had a weird undertone of podiums and that was something he hated to get reminded of during off season. But that was not something he needed to tell her.

She gulped the whole glass, happy have something to take the edge off.

"How bizarre, we managed to make it here," she remarked, courage building up.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, honey."

That's it. He was being the ultimate boyfriend, while she was there, barely participating. No more of that. She grabbed the glass from his hands and downed the liquid he barely touched anyway. Surprised Lando only raised his eyebrows and watched her put both of their glasses away.

"Bed. Now," she ordered him, changing the tone of the conversation.

Fascination overruled Lando's facial expression and he obeyed, without a single word. Usually, he was the more dominant one in their sex life. He couldn't help himself, forever horny teenager. But, sometimes, out of nowhere, she whipped up her bossy side. He often fantasized about that when he was alone, racing around the world.

She waited for him to absentmindedly kick his shoes to the corner only to sit at the edge of the bed. Shook her head and nodded toward the pillow. He obeyed and pushed himself further to the back. His eyes were literally inviting her, encouraging her to continue.

With full determination, she took her shirt off, following by swiftly removing her bra. Then she climbed over to him, never breaking eye contact.

Lando wanted to say something, anything, but he was worried that would somehow break the spell. He followed her every move, tuning in. They had spent few days in the family circus and they were about to enter another one. It's been the longest they'd gotten without sex while being in the same timezone. Even though he was not demanding or expecting anything, he was craving it like a starved man.

She wanted to feel hot. Determined to prove that she is a good girlfriend. Swung her leg over his, practically sitting on him. Their lips crashed together in a messy kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. Lando sighed when she parted them. But she was on a mission now. Knowing well enough Lando was a boobs man, she pulled his face towards her nipple and he didn't think twice about what to do next. She watched him suck and pure physical relief washed over her. All will be well soon.

She grabbed him over his jeans, pleased to find that he was already getting hard. Abandoning the kiss, she moved over to gain access to his crotch. Locked eyes with him while opening his zipper, almost violently.

"Take this off," she ordered and boy, did he do as he was told.

The air was heavy with anticipation on both parties.

With thick determination, she knelt over and took him into her mouth. He grew in her instantly, reaching full erection almost immediately.

Wasting no time, she started to move, up and down and suck him off. One hand called over to help at the bottom of his shaft, the other used as a support for her to lean on. She quickly got lost in the rhythm and continued, almost like someone dead set on completing a task. She had to prove herself. He was a great boyfriend and she needed to be the best girl he had. Because tomorrow, only ugly judgemental looks from her mother would await. No warm family welcome, this bliss they lived in for the past few days would be long gone. She could almost see it already happening, Lando desperately trying to impress her mother and her just dismissing him, because she had already made up her mind about him.

But he was perfect and Y/N was head-over-heels in love. With her eyes closed, she kept on moving, barely reaching for breath, ignoring the growing pain in her back, because the pit of despair growing in her stomach was louder anyway. It was all worth it for making her lover happy. Because who knows how it will all look tomorrow. If she could back down from the trip, she would. Her mom does not deserve to criticize someone so perfect like Lando.

Out of nowhere, felt his hand reaching over to her shoulder, somewhat bringing her back to Earth.

"Y/N," he moaned, with an unusual undertone. She took it as a sign to speed up her movements.

"Stop," he continued instantly. She froze, not quite sure what had happened.

"Ok, ugh," he pulled away unwillingly. "I can't believe I'm about to interrupt...Whatever amazing thing is happening right now."

She swallowed her own saliva. Got up a bit, slightly mortified. Why did he stop her. What has she done wrong? He never complained before? That's it - this connected with the treatment her mother had prepared instead of Christmas dinner would be the final straw ending their lovey-dovey period. Her thoughts were tripping one over another, making up an incoherent mess.

Once again, he pulled up his finger and arched her chin up.

"Is everything alright?"

Silence followed. He gave her a questioning, puzzled look.

"I thought you liked my blow jobs," she said with a stern look stripped of any emotion.

"Believe me, I do," he said with a heavy sigh. He couldn't believe himself, never expected himself to pause a perfect blow. "But something feels off about you."

She failed. She failed at going with Lando's flow and ruined what was suppose to be a nice romantic holiday evening. Giving up, she threw herself on her back, lying 90 degrees next to him, eyes glued to the ceiling. If they hadn't been so comfortable with each other, she'd feel very small, lying there like that, him with his dick out and her topless.

Lando had hoped his intuition was wrong. But sadly, he recognized the signs correctly. Without knowing this emotion had pained her ever since the plane got delayed, he felt his own anxiety pile up. Only years of mental preparation for his overly demanding job had helped him to avoid jumping into conclusions too quickly. Even though, deep down, he was terrified that her sudden mood change was due to the fact she didn't love him anymore. It was always the first thing he thought about, no matter how much he tried to work on it. But - years of mental training - he was going to cash that in.

He watched her, hoping she'd look back at him. When she didn't, he reached his fingertips towards hers. Her own hand responded instantly and their fingers tangled together.

"What happened...Did I do something wrong?" he opened with, reaching for any clues.

She kept her stare up the ceiling and chuckled. How cute it was, finding him so unaware.

"No. Lando, you're amazing. Annoyingly so, lately."

He took that as an invitation and shifted his body over so that they shared the same angle and joined her at the "staring at the ceiling" activity.

"I hope that is not the problem - I have hard time not being like that," he joked, hoping it would diffuse the tension a bit. The Lando she met a year ago would probably run away in a situation like this. Or maybe even ignored the obvious distress of his sex partner and let he blow him to his release. But not the Lando of today.

Her lips curled into a small smile.

"Oh, if only all of us were like you," she couldn't help but comment sarcastically.

"You know that you're more than perfect to me, right?" There was no lightness to be detected in his tone. She shifted, a wave of uncomfortableness washing her over.

I may be, but not my family.

"Yes, but I need you to know...I need you to understand, that I truly love you and I am totally mesmerized by you. To me, you are perfect. Even when you irritate me to heavens," she admited, making sure to highlight the words of praise. Scared that if she didn't build enough foundation today, there will be nothing to stand on once the challenge comes tomorrow. She'd tried to warm him about the meeting, but it always seemed to go through his ears.

It was like she was speaking in riddles. "Why do you need me to understand that now?" he asked, eyes now fully glued at his girlfriend, searching for some clues.

She felt his eyes on her and out of nowhere felt very naked. "Because...." ...Words were hard.

"Go on, I'm not backing away from this," Lando insisted, trying to get them both on the same page.

A loud sigh. "We had such a great time with your family..."

It was like she was speaking in a language he was not yet fluent in. "Don't divert the conversation," he hissed, eyes on her like she was some sort of target.

"I'm not!" she gasped, almost offended.

Lando was still not following. "My family is basically in love with you, I have messages if you need proof."

"Yeah. And that's the problem," Y/N smirked bitterly.

He leaned closer to her. "I think we should look up a definition of the word problem..." he joked.

She was still burning holes in the ceiling with her look. "We missed the flight. It's another bullet to my mother’s gun." Stupid, stupid mistake.

"Who is she planning on shooting?" Lando asked softly.

"Us, I'm afraid." She finally met his look and the only emotion he was able to read in her eyes was concern.

If this relationship had taught Lando anything, it was that the hard way is sometimes the only way. So, he finally allowed himself to ask the one thing that had been on his mind for a while now. "Does she not like me?"

Deep down he was suspecting this might be one of the reasons why his girlfriend is acting sketchy. He just hoped it was something more trivial. "She's never met you," she whispered, as if she was defending him for something he hadn't yet committed. So far, there had been only one moment when her mom Facetimed her when he was right next to her. One greeting, awkward wave and a smile that was not reciprocated. He made up some excuse to leave them alone promptly after that, feeling like he was intruding on a private conversation.

"I wondered when you were going to tell me that," he remarked, ready to go full on. He was just now allowing the thought that his lover's parent might have been feeding her bitter doubts for some time now enter his brain.

The obvious change of Lando's expression made her stomach turn, kind of like drinking milk that's gone off does. But, they'd vowed to be fully honest with each other after their first big fight. Deep breath. "She um...It's not like you can say she is exactly on board with all of this,“ she gestured between them. 

And there it was. The confirmation he feared. He did his best to remain as calm as possible. "Don't worry, I figured, you sort of hinted at that few times before. And I'm planning on charming the hell out of her. After all, you do share genes. Some of my tricks gotta work on her." It was more of a plea, lacking his general playful confidence. When she studied his look, it reminded her of the times when he was hiding his real emotions in front of hungry reporters.

He told her once he wanted her to be blunt, rather than deceptive in difficult times. The words started to leave her mouth without much of a filter. "But, what if it does not work. She has this habit of making her mind up before I have any chance to affect it."

Somehow, the fact she voiced it, made it easier for him to react. "Honey, don't take this the wrong way. But, I only care about your opinion. It would be great to have your mom on our side...However, I'd like to believe it's not the base of our relationship."

"No, it's not," she said quickly, silently hoping it was going to be enough for them to survive this challenge.

"So, tell me. What does she think about me?" he asked, suddenly craving to know it all.

She bit her lip. "Lando, don't make me say things like that."

Wow. That bad. "I'm used to getting hate from thousands of people who don't know me. I can cope. The more specifics I know, the better I can prepare...Come on, spill it," he countered, trying to convince her that he can handle it. However, it wasn't like he himself was completely sure of that. Her face was expressionless and he nodded to confirm it nonverbally.

"She thinks you're reckless," she spoke slowly, skipping few heartbeats. She was used to being on the other side, praising Lando when he doubted himself. This place, where she found herself at, was not one she liked.

He analysed it for a moment. "Well, I do get into a car every week to purposefully drive it as fast as possible, so I can she from which angle she might be coming from. Nothing new."

"You're a party boy," she shot back faster than she could think.

And he shot right back at her. "You're a party girl, but I assume your mom has no idea, huh."

"No...," she admitted. For some reason, this calmed her down a bit. She finally took another breath.

"What else," Lando's stared at her, following his internal feeling they hadn't arrived to the end yet.

No point in holding back now, she figured. There was a weird ball of tension in her chest, almost asking daring her to push him to the limit. "She googled you. A lot. And she made sure to tell me names of all your model exes. Then proceeded to tell me I look nothing like that," Y/N deadpanned.

Lando knew this was probably the one thing that stung her the most. But, the thought of someone she held so dearly voicing it her was making him extremely angry. "That's just fucked up-"

She continued, before he had any chance to react more.

"And, she thinks you'll affect my school. That the lifestyle around you is shallow and only attracts bonehead people."

Now, this was finally getting to Lando. Of course, he could not let Y/N know that, not in this moment.

"Do you think that too?" he asked, because he craved to know the truth. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when the world around felt silent and his mind had time to roam freely, he found himself thinking about this. He never really studied and was never going to. His life was based on different approach. He loved it. But that didn't stop him from feeling a bit inferior from time to time.

He expected anything, but a laugh. For a moment he figured she was mocking him. Only once she reached to touch his face he realized just how still and stiff he became throuout out their conversation.

"I think it's shallow and bonehead to assume that. I've met some amazing people in your team, smart people who have dedicated their lives into the sport I'd grown to love while watching get so passionate about it."

There was an unspoken question hanging in the air. Lando dared not to say it outloud.

"And, no. I don't think you deserve to be called any of those words. Only when you're looking in the mirror, because that smug face deserves to be punched one day."

He chuckled. It would take him few moment to truly let her words sink in. "You didn't seem to think that one time in Abu Dhabi." That time when he fucked over a bathroom sink and made sure that she watched them the whole time. Lando watched with joy as her face started getting some color again. He couldn't fight his urge to get closer to his partner, break the tension even further. So, he rolled over to bury his nose in her neck. It was almost automatic at this point. None of his previous girlfriends were this understanding of his overly touchy needs. Words were important, but they grew more on meaning when he could feel her skin, explore her light shiver, watch how her body reacted. When he felt her pushing towards his touch, he swung his arm over her, with the notion of providing some heat to her naked chest.

A more comfortable silence fell upon the hotel room. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. Lando was taking in all of the newly found information. It was a heavy burden, not because of the substance, but because it was coming from someone Y/N held dearly. It was hard not to feel a little injustice of it all. But more than that, he was grateful that she was able to avoid internalizing all of that what was fed to her from her mom. He approached all of this as he would any strategy meeting before a difficult race. Find the strengths, capitalize on them and try to minimize the advantage "the opponent" might have. But truth be told, he'd rather not have to have this sort of competition.

"Thank you," he whispered into the crease of her neck. "Thank you for not giving into it all." He hoped, prayed, that was he as saying was true. It was not just about her mom. It was the press, some of the overbearing fans and anyone who dared to challenge them without having any real insight in their relationship. "I know it must be really hard and not exactly what you might have signed up for."

What did I sign up for? 

She reached over to embrace him, mindlessly drawing circles on his back. The pit inside her stomach was growing smaller. Without really intending to, signed up for a partnership, exciting love affair that got out of hand. Anyone who came before him was redundant. He outshined everyone. 

"I’m pretty sure I must have bribed faith in my past life to have you thrown in my life." 

"Aren’t you my little smart poetic girl," he murmured approvingly and started to cover her skin with kisses. Few moments flew by. "We could order some food, put on the show you like and drift away. How does that sound?" 

She understood his intention. It had been a long day and another one was coming. Her emotions were clashing from one end to another and as much as she tried to hide it all, Lando was proving to be hard to fool. And no - she did not want to chill in. Burning all of it out sounded more fun. To be held for a moment, stuck in the timelessness only lightheaded orgasm created. 

He was still trailing her neck with small pecks, arm locking her in. The untamed curls almost tickling like small feathers. Everything was heightened, as if his skin was loudly calling her in. His words of initiating a calm wind down not matching his action. 

"Please, no more of this PG fun. It’s been days."

He stopped all of his movements. "Well then, pray tell, what do you have on mind?"

The next words flew out of her mouth before she could filter them. "Are you in the mood to fuck me?"

"Am I in the mood to fuck you," he repeated, in his signature sarcasm dripping style. He was having trouble processing how his sexual partner could ever arrive to this question. Unsure whether to address her clumsy dirty talk first instead of the absurdity of the question, he arrived at a simple "Charming…".  Of course he was in the mood. Always, anytime and quite literally anywhere.

"Well it's just, it's been quite a tense talk..." she hinted back carefully. To her surprise, his face went into smirk mode. 

"I will ask you the same thing next time you're hyperventilating about school and you come in begging for stress release," he jested, once again making her eyebrows shooting up. 

"I am never begging," she defended, unwilling to give into his narrative. 

And then he shot back, with his signature you-don’t-have-any-chance-to-resist look. "I said what I said."

Blood ran boiling in her veins. If oil had been in such abundance as his audacity, the world would be able to run cars freely for centuries. "Tell me one example of me begging for sex with you."

Lando turned his head slowly. Oh. Oh, it was on.

Very quickly she realized her own mistake. She ran into that one like a fool. "No, Lando, don't-"

"You know, it has been indeed quite a long day, I think I'm gonna hop in the shower and get a healthy dose of beauty sleep," he declared dramatically, sat up and removed his t-shirt. She rolled her eyes as high as humanly possible. No way would follow through with this premise. "Fine, Lando. I’ll be here, munching on strawberries, naked and horny, all by myself," she tried to tease and leaned over to grab one of the bright red fruits from the trail. Eyes locked in with him as she shamelessly sucked on it. There was a glitch and a twinkle in his look. Almost got her thinking she had this one in the bag. He stepped closer, noses almost touching as he whispered: "Have fun, honey," gave her a little peck on the cheeks while having the nerve to grab her exposed breast. His tone was teasing, daring her to dare a little more. It was annoying in a typical Lando fashion.

"Lando, you gotta be kidding me right now," she sighed, impatience getting the better of her. 

"Few magic words and you get exactly what you want from your reckless racer fuck boy,“ he mocked everyone who ever doubted them. "Oh, sorry, forgot to add, very good at taking your edge off. Am I right?"

His presence was more intoxicating than usual. As if he radiated some hormones making her feral. All the complicated emotions leaving the conversation one by one. Nothing but the two of them left in the room. His hot breath on her cheek, fingers circling over her nipple and his body heat reminding her of each time she wrapped her arms around him as he pushed into her. 

"Yes, that you are," she responded mindlessly and searched for his lips with her own. He allowed her a small peck, like a chef would at a tasting menu. Enough to hook, but not enough to fill up. And with that thought in mind he broke their kiss. "Come on, say it. I want to hear it."

Few moments of silence, her breathing heavy and his almost undetectable. Two ego’s fighting a battle so pointless it was almost amusing. She couldn’t just give in like that, no matter how dizzy her head was getting. 

"Fine by me, honey. Your choice," he danced away, letting her hanging. There was something infuriating about how nonchalantly and elegantly he smiled, knowing well enough her was winning this battle. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as to prevent herself from watching his tone back. 

This. This was her Lando. Always pushing her into a direction she had no idea she wanted or needed to go. Never the same thing twice, somehow, he always dug up something new. 

She sat on the bed, dumbfounded, playful anger replacing all the anxiety she had felt just moments ago. Was this his plan all along, or did he just have a natural talent at steering her mood into a place where she’d happily go and give into anything he’d suggest her to do?

He was grinning all the way coming to the shower. It was a statement, a game and something to ease the tension. Once the water started, he’d allowed himself do a light check-in with his own feelings. It wasn’t easy to hear all those things. In fact, some of them hit a little close to home. Lando made sure to separate what he had heard from Y/N as a person. She wasn’t the author of these thoughts. Someone else was. A person who he had not yet even met. There wasn’t a single cell in him that would doubt that everything she stared had been said by her mother at some point. 

He closed his eyes and aimed his face directly under the shower head. Images of him and Y/N all coupled up at his family house started to come in, like a set of developed photos. So natural, calming and most of all - honest. Comfort memories he knew he’d be reaching for once the new season and it’s challenges catch up, when the distance and loneliness hit. But at that moment, there she was, right next door and probably still a bit fired up by his uncharacteristic postponing of sex. His hand slid over to his crotch, squeezing himself casually and switching up the mental images to less family-friendly moments. He was sort of expecting her to come and join him in the shower. But no, of course not. Not when he set her up like that. They were all too similar for their own good.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, towel purposefully hanging dangerously low, he couldn’t stop himself from simpering. Once he got a look at her, sitting under the covers, phone in her hand and too stingy to pass him more than two looks. But, she did come for the second one and that betrayed her, aiming directly to where his tower barely covered his waist. 

To prove his point, he shuffled his wet hair, sudden movement making her glance once again. It felt really addictive to know he was the centre of her attention, despite how much she tried to hide it. 

Smugness and water dripping from him, he landed shamelessly on the bed, towel giving up on trying to participate. Her reaction was to frown, making her pet peeve of people getting into the bed wet known, once again. Something Lando became aware very early on. He used this information only when the situation required it. No words were said, as he leaned over her, making sure to leave some remaining water drops on her, and grabbed a moisturizer. 

Then he proceeded to slowly plump it and rub it on his body. The unreasonably loud sounds of him doing that were cutting the silence of the room like a knife. 

His partner sitting next to him hummed quietly. "Whatever this is, it’s not working."

He replied, elegant as ever. "I don’t know what you’re insinuating." He pretended to be as focused on his activity, the same way as he did when doing PR bullshit. "Ah, honey. Would you be so kind and help me reach to my back?" Lando asked overly nicely. Y/N watched him, almost admiring just how bad his acting skills were and how he proceeded with his act without any remorse. He was reaching over to his back, unable to do so, and making it look like the biggest tragedy human kind has ever experienced. And with puppy eyes, he decided to go for a low blow. 

"Please, baby," he said in a tone so insincere it wouldn’t fool a child. This was yet another provocation. 

"You know it irks me when you’re wet in the bed."

He let out a chuckle. She was so bad at keeping herself in check. It was adorable. She just sat there, pretending to be scrolling Instagram, little lines around her eyes forming from how tense her eyebrows frowned. "I do. And we seriously have to get your accidental innuendos under control. Can’t have you walking in public saying these things." He wiggled the moisturizer in front of her face. 

Finally, she snapped. "You are the most annoying and immature guy I’ve ever met. You’re impossible." Lando looked at her, like one would at an angry puppy that’s trying to jump a little too high. 

"One would almost say a miracle, huh."

Once again, he shook his bottle of moisturizer. Having had enough, she snatched it from his hands and put it back on the nightstand.  "It’s a miracle I haven’t killed you yet."

Without missing a beat, he shot back. "And how will we celebrate?"

She let out a sigh so loud the people in the next room must have heard it. Sitting there, not knowing what do with her hands anymore. He wished they were pulling his hair. 

"Are you seriously gonna make me say it."

He simply nodded, arching himself up. If her mind had been clouded before, it was now full on can't-see-further-than-my-nose type of situation.

He leaned over even closer, getting up all over in her personal space. As if that was even a thing anymore. 

Somehow, for some reason he would have yet unpack, his heart was beating like crazy. Say it. 

Accepting that he won what ever this was, she gulped and finally whispered. "Please."

He gave her a questioning look, as if he didn’t hear her. "Hm? Sorry?"

Still debating whether she should smack him or not, she repeated herself. "Please."

"What, do you want me to put the cream on you too? Hydration is important for the skin,“ he teased, enjoying himself immensely. 

"Lando."

"Y/N."

If he were to be completely honest, he was extremely proud of himself to withholding this long. Also, not sure how longer he could go on, given the fact his erection has entered the chat. 

To make it more complicated, she sat up and put her mouth almost onto his. He could smell her aroused energy. Almost taste her on his mouth. And that as even before she licked his lips lightly with her tongue.

"Say it," he mumbled, unable to make it not sound like a plea. 

It was different than what they’d usually do. Many couples dabbled in talking during sex, they never really did. Then something hit her. Like a secret wavelength he was sending her way. Maybe he needed her to talk today. So, finally, she broke in. 

"Lando, please, fuck me.“ 

All those times, he waited for the five red lights to go out only for him to smash the pedal, paid off. Like opening windows in a stale room, he let the fresh air in. Ripped the duvet covering her off, he grabbed her legs to pull her into a laying down position, not even giving her time to gasp. His moves were quick and oh-so-sure of himself. 

"Tell me what you need, love,“ he ordered, while he traced the line of her neck with his tongue. 

He wasn’t certain if she was finding the idea of talking as hot as he did. But he sure as hell hoped. It wasn’t like he needed any guidance at that point. Had every inch of her body mapped out already. But he longed to hear it from her mouth. Towering over her, he nibbled on her neck, one hand running through her hair and the other squeezing her hips, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. 

He noticed she stopped her breathing and locked him with her arms, holding on for dear life. 

"You, I need you, Lando,“ she let out, suddenly all uncertain and shy. It was the vulnerability in her tone that got him. He moved his lips a little lower, so that he could leave a mark on her collarbone, without fearing she’d regret it tomorrow. 

His body was moving on its own. Brushing on her upper thigh, opening her legs up and positioning himself between her. All the blood left his brain. 

"I want you to touch me. I want to walk with marks made from you in public, a secret only you will know.“ 

He was only now realizing how good of a fuel this was for him. Lightheaded, he folded her legs and pushed them to her stomach, making as small as possible. So that she would be completely in his control. 

To grand her wished, he left one mark just below he collarbone and moved to leave a second one on her breast. She let out a heavy breath. 

"Lando, please. I need you inside.“ 

He was almost getting too dizzy not to comply immediately. His erection throbbing into her leg. 

Then, out of nowhere, he flipped them both. 

"Get over me, baby,“ he hummed and positioned himself on his back. She gave him a questioning look and knelt above his dick. 

But he shook his head and grabbed her hips once again. "Up here.“ 

His hungry look must have encouraged her, so she moved until he stopped her, ending up directly above his mouth. "Sit down.“ 

His statement was followed by his strong hands literally pushing her down on his mouth. 

Eyes finally locked again, he smirked for the last time, before he buried his mouth in her. 

Lando wished he knew what he looked like from her perspective. Squished between her, licking and sucking, letting her move in the exact way how she wished. He felt her legs tense up with each move his tongue made. This all got even more intense when he squeezed her nipple between his fingers. 

He twirled his tongue through her folds, circled around the clit, which had her melt. 

"More,“ she demanded and positioned herself so that he could only access. 

Saliva and her juices were mixing in his mouth, the smell of her arousal hitting his nose and making him high. 

He upped his pace and went for the moves he already knew from the past would work. Watching her crumble, barely being able to keep herself up, to the point where she had to balance herself against the wall, was probably becoming his definition of heaven. His tongue moved in a fixed rhythm, exploring every possible place she had to offer. 

"Lando..." she moaned, completely lost due to the moves his tongue was making. 

He felt the urge to stop and take a breath, because judging by the slight movements of her thighs, she was getting close. 

And only moments later, her first release came. Wetter than ever, she held on dearly and with one high pitched sigh, she collapsed almost completely. He had to stop her from crushing his face. 

"Sorry," she let out mindlessly, unable to give him more reaction. 

Amused, he helped her back down and rolled her over on her back. 

Wasting no time, Lando pushed two fingers in her immediately, not giving her any time to calm down or rest. 

Wondering in which dimension he managed to send her off to, he watched, as she squeezed her eyes shut with every little twist her made. As her moans target to get intense again, he shut her off with a kiss. His tongue matching the movements of his fingers. He waited patiently, before he felt like she was getting lost in the same haze as bare minutes ago, only to remove his fingers and stop kissing her out of a sudden. 

Confusion and mild anger washed over her. 

"What-"

"I can’t hear you, baby," he teased and hovered his wet fingers above her mouth. "What was it that you wanted from me? Must have slipped my mind."

The look of pure desperation she gave him was the hottest shit he’d ever seen. 

"Lando…"

"Let’s made a deal, sunshine," he proclaimed and slowly shoved his wet fingers into her mouth. Like the good girl she was, she sucked on them without hesitation. „I’ll stop anything we’re doing, the moment you shut up. Ok?“

They were so close to each other with every possible body part. But it was not enough. It would never be enough. She nodded and he pulled his fingers out, slowly. 

"Deal, Norris."

A lightning shot through his body and nearly split him in half. She never used his last name before, ever. Why was that, out of all the things, doing it for him. She must have picked up on his momentary relapse and gained more confidence with that. "Stop fucking around, I want you inside. Now.“ 

He was already almost touching her entrance with his dick. Eye locked, he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. 

"Please,“ she said, loud and proud, making it sound like a demand.

When he finally pushed into her, it was like anything else stopped existing. He belonged there and nothing else mattered. 

"Oh my God, yes,“ she whined, keeping up at her promise. "This is the best shit ever.“ 

Lando’s autopilot kicked in as the last braincell was truly gone. He started to move in a steady beat, finding it incredibly hard to keep himself from literally pounding into her immediately. 

„Faster,“ she encouraged as she held his shoulder with her other hand, to help her find balance. 

Lando was lost, in the best way possible. In her body, in his mind, in the fact that having sex was something completely different when you absolutely adored the person you’d be lying on top of. The built up energy finally finding its release, after days of dancing around. With each thrust, he lost touch with reality more. Only pure pleasure and reminiscence of her voice finding their way in. 

"Oh, God, baby." "Yes." "I need you." "It’s only you." "Shit, you’re so good."

Lando figured a long time ago that, for the lack of better comparison, their bodies must have been made for each other. Different shapes fitting perfectly into each other. They shared their sense of rhythm. It was never too short or too long. She scratched the itch before he got the chance to mention he had one. Lando felt almost sad for anyone who did not get to experience that. 

Somehow, their sex got better every time. 

He missed when she came for the second time, as he was too lost in his own release. His thrusts got more uneven, his body completely arched and then finally - like the slap in the face, pure bliss washed over him. He felt it in what seemed like every muscle, every strain of hair and in every inch of his lower stomach, spreading like nice hot drink in the middle of winter. All was good. There were no problems, only good things. She was perfect. 

He had a hard time recalling what were the exact words they’d share right after he came. The haze started to clear few moments after, when he found himself next to her, puddle of his cum in the middle of her stomach, noses touching each other and light kisses being left like little presents. 

As the heavy breaths grew lighter, he returned back to Earth.

"All good, baby?“ he asked, the sweetness in his tone coming naturally. Searched for any sign of discomfort in her face. He had hoped that she got exactly the kind of release she deserved. 

And many signs pointed towards that. The smile of her disbelief, red flushed face, sensitive skin that reacted to each light touch as if it was a strong grip. 

"I, um. Yes. More than good. Thank you.“ Most people would barely understand with they way she mumbled.

He chuckled. "You don’t have to thank me, ever.“ 

"I was taught that after every please comes a thank you, so pick you battle. All or nothing," she shot back, teasing as ever.

He didn't have to think much before replying. "Well, all of that then.“ 

She nudged him with her nose. "You seemed to enjoy me begging. Though begging might be a strong word. I would never do that." 

Even though she said it in a light tone, he knew it was intended seriously. "Maybe I just really needed to hear it today. That you want me. Need me.“ 

"What I love about this all is that we need each other. Both for different reasons, but that just makes it work even more.“ 

There was comfort in her answer. A realization, an answer to a question they never asked before. 

"I’ll be there for you tomorrow. We’ll crush it, as a team.“

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, possessive behavior, confinement, hinted non - con, stockholm syndrome kinda, christmas edition yap

You were never such a big fan of the holiday season. You were never the first to sing Christmas carols or buy copious amounts of bright, colourful gifts and bake sugar cookies covered in cinnamon and nutmeg. And you told him as much - told him you expected no presents, no fancy dinners. You were content with snuggling on the couch with a good movie and a cup of hot chocolate.

He didn't listen, of course - he rarely did. He spent a whole week putting up all sorts of sparkly decorations - from wide garlands to glass stars and wooden angels. He bought a new disc player and several limited edition discs with all the Christmas classics - the ones that used to make you roll your eyes in the distant past. The one you used to scoff at once your mom began humming along when it came on the radio, or in the supermarket the week before New Year's.

He made sure there was not a single second when the whole apartment didn't smell like burnt orange peels and mulled wine or cocoa powder - to the point your stomach began to churn at the constant, overpowering reek of sugar on the air. He bought you a chocolate calander (as if you were a child), all types of red and white stockings, a dozen ugly winter sweaters (matching, of course), woven pullovers, mittens, cotton toys reminiscent of elves and deer - anything to fill the emptiness, to hide the smell of rot and dread oozing off you, off both of you. But nothing could prepare you for today. The morning of the 25th December.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"C'mon." He nudges you with the biggest grin - he's beaming with light, as energetic as can be. And yet you're tired, despite it being late morning blending into midday. You have no memories of last night, of Christmas Eve. You know you were drinking, perhaps having a laugh here and there. And then you got upset - sad, maybe? Why you were sad, you don't recall. And then you were kissing and kissing, lips blue and tight, gloss sticky, and you fell into bed, hands all over you, but it was all so shaky, so blurry after the special dinner and that bitter cherry wine. Somehow even now it brings tears to your eyes. "Oh, don't cry, darling, please don't cry." He cooes at you, rubbing soothing circles into your back. "I promise you will like your present."

Oh yes. The present. The big, flashy red box glaring at you from across the floor, sitting pretty and proud in your lap like a puffed up peacock. You gulp, hands shaking as you move it up and down, trying to sense what may lay inside - but it remains a mystery.

Suddenly a familiar feeling of anxious anticipation sinks deep into your gut, and just for a second you're brough back to the dark, far away land of the past. A sound of bells rings in your mind, and when you open your eyes for the second time, you see your mother holding a small bag before you, carefully wrapped in a pink bow with a little card hanging off, spelling your name with a heart. Your hands shake that time too, as you struggle to unwrap the paper. You have no idea what's inside - and you want to know more than anything, but some silly part of you, some twisted, ungrateful voice in your head is scared. If you like it, you'll have to make a big scene of grattitude. If you hate it, the scene will have to be even bigger. Not a scene, but a whole performance. Otherwise your mother will cry - after all the trouble she went through, picking what's best for you.

"Darling, open it." He repeats, voice dropping with irritation as he shoves the box down. You jump slightly, ripped away from the precious memory. "You know what this means for me." He continues, even more serious and stern now, eyes darkening. Your heartbeat fastens, hands grippling with the satin wrap. "This is our fifth Christmas together. I know in the past you didn't feel..." He takes a deep breath. "Settled in." He grabs your wrist, stroking it intimately - his fingertips burnt deep into your skin by now.

"But this Christmas, it's different. I can feel it in the air tonight." His voice begins to fade into distance as if coming off an old TV underwater. "It feels like home. Like we are one happy family. And who knows what's ahead..." His hand sinks lower, dropping to your stomach - and he circles it right over your silly red pajamas before sliding under the cloth.

He keeps talking, but you don't understand the words. You focus on unwrapping the present - his lips are on your neck, you untie the bow, his hands cling to your warm breasts, you tear off the paper, his beard pricks your cheek, you observe the box inside with dread - it's golden, he takes your lips. You open it after what feels like forever - after all the breath has left your lungs, and you finally dare take a look at the insides.

The gift is lovely - or should you say the gifts? It's an endless pit of everything you used to dream of. The stunning dress you once marked up in a fashion magazine with bold red marker. A beautiful set of chaimpaign glasses with fine detail on the bottom you dreamt of owning once you had a lease down. Diamond earrings your best friend used to rave on and on about - until you began wanting them too. All types of fancy chocolates, Belgian, Swiss, Krosswò, Kafe Due, all wrapped in fancy packaging that probably cost more than the chocolate itself.

"So? Do you like it?" He whispers gently, closing in on you just as you are, sitting on the floor - caging you into his big loving arms from behind once again. You freeze, unable to do much other than nod. "I hope you do." He continues before he even registers your answer. "I hope it's enough to make you happy."

But you're not. You're not fucking happy, and you haven't been for a while now. Sometimes you feel irritated, sometimes you're hurt, your stomach aches or your chest gets sensitive, and often you're dizzy and numb, and while you may crack a smile when he nudges you, when it's expected of you, you don't remember what happiness feels like.

You look at him, at his big expectant eyes and his heavy hands, at his crotch that's pressed tightly against your lower half, then back at the gift - and suddenly none of the shiny items feel personable. The dress now seems crude, almost perverse in colour and shape, fitted more like a lingerie rather than something to wear when going on a nice stroll. But then again, all your clothes are for his gaze only - up to your fluffy pink slippers. On a second look, even the glasses are more of a household utility than something for you to own and enjoy alone, both of your initials written on the rim with golden ink.

"Try the earrings on." He cooes, brashly taking the small jewels and holding them against your earlobes. "I've dreamt of seeing those little beauties on you. Now we can finally throw away those flashy fake loops your mom gave you." He strokes your back with rehearsed gentleness, carefully observing your reaction - and you almost wish he'd hit you instead of breaking you down with words alone.

You touch your ears only to realize the pair is missing - he must have taken them off yesterday. Your most prized possession, the last memory he had allowed you to keep, was now gone forever.

"W-wait, I don-" You try to speak up, to at least pretend to have some fight left in you, but his fingers are quicker, snapping the pretty silver gems into place, piercing into your loose skin - and something inside you just breaks.

"You are a sight for sore eyes, my dear. Oh, how I love you." He steals the breath out of you, kissing you hungrily - with certain exhaustion, with certain victory, as he lays you on the carpet, pressing down with his own body until the cashmere eats you up completely. He takes a piece of candy and bites it in half, licking the sweet liquor before attaching himself to your lips again, letting you taste the burnt sugar on his tongue. "Marry Christmas." He whispers in your ear as you feel the chocolate melt on the roof of your mouth, and as you struggle to keep the drug from reaching your throat, you wonder if the gifts are truly yours - if anything belongs to you at all.

[jilyawards]

January

Now Everybody-- (completed, 4.6k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“He’s a muggleborn too, I think that’s why she likes him,” James says, now talking to no one but himself and the ceiling. “He listens to all the same muggle music, watches films… they probably go do cool muggle things like fairs and refrigerators… ride airplanes…” “Mate, I don’t think you do a refrigerator.” James ignores him, barreling onwards. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck here, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin was on my bloody arm like a fool.”

there's no place like home for the holidays (completed, 36,7k) by @thejilyship. Rated T.

Christmastime is hard. ~Lily~ Lily's life has recently exploded. She has moved twice in the last two months, broken up with a man she had thought she was going to marry, and is currently headed home to go to her sister's Christmas time wedding alone. Even though she and her sister argued over giving Lily a plus one quite explosively. And now she's got an asshole neighbor who basically shoved her down the stairs. ~James~ James has been in love with Marlene McKinnon since he was eleven. She has absolutely no interest in him, and his friends have tried just about everything they can think of to dissuade him from pinning for her. And his parents won't stop setting him up with their friends grandchildren. Because they're old and they think James needs help. What if someone were to assume that the two of them were dating when they're spotted in the airport together? What if they didn't correct them? What if they used their easy chemistry and proximity to make Christmastime that much easier for the both of them?

the road not taken (looks real good now) (completed, 3.2k) by @emmathecasualauthor. Not rated.

He blinks, forcing himself to focus, but it's all there in his mind, like it’s happening again. Or: James sees Lily at a bookshop in muggle London

keep pace (completed, 8.6k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“So,” she says after a moment, her voice light, “is this a thing you do? Invite girls to kill themselves on a run after you find them crying. Or am I special?” Sirius laughs. It’s a sharp sound, almost surprised, but it makes her stomach loosen. “You’re special,” he says dryly, finally turning to look at her properly. He watches her for a beat longer than she expects, like he’s searching for something in her face—some answer she doesn’t know how to give. Whatever it is, he seems to find it.

The One Sharp, Tangible Thing (completed, 2.2k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“It’s horrid for you, you know.” “No worries–I do loads of things that are bad for me,” he smirks. “Oh? Like what?” He falters, the rushing stream of banter getting interrupted by a fork in the river. Maybe she is imagining it, but she sees the words start to form on his lips. Fancying you. 

White Winter Hymnals (completed, 16k) by @tedwardremus. Rated G.

Holiday themed jily snippets from age eleven to adulthood

Afterglow (completed, 1.3k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

A soft silence falls over them, strangely comfortable given the circumstances. She can feel his heartbeat against her forearm, a defiant thump thump thump that serves as a reminder that yes, you are in his bed with his hand over your body and his face unreasonably close to yours.

At Least I'm Gonna Say That I Tried (completed, 5.8k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated T.

“Call me what you want, Evans. I deserve it,” he pants, “But then I’m going to need you to make my Christmas wish come true a few more times because – Merlin– I’ll do anything for it.”

Betting on It (completed, 700 words) by @chierafied. Rated T.

If Lily hadn’t downed those last two tequila shots, she might’ve wondered how she ended up here: squinting at the cards she’d been dealt while sneaking appreciative glances at the very impressive set of abs.

Bad Egg (completed, 1.1k) by @annabtg. Rated G.

Lily's greatest fear lurks on the breakfast table.

Eternal Recurrence (WIP, 15.6k as of 31 Jan 2025) by @girlhoodpostmortem. Not rated.

"This was always going to happen. She’s been dead since the beginning." - The Oresteia A Marauders fic inspired by The Book Thief by Markus Zusak/inspired by a textpost by @pomegranateroot15 on Tumblr.

November/December recs available HERE!

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Not a Creature Was Stirring

Declan O’Hara x Reader

Words: 2677

Summary: Christmas at the Priory gets more complicated with Maud can’t make it back from London. As Declan’s girlfriend, you try to step in to still make it a perfect holiday for him and his kids. Needless to say, things don’t exactly go according to plan. 

Notes: With my love for Aidan Turner, you guys had to know Declan would be joining my list of stories eventually! I love him so much and I’m happy to have him as the subject of my Christmas imagine this year. I hope you all have a happy holidays, whatever you celebrate and a wonderful new year! (and if you recognized the Poldark quote I totally stole, no you didn't)

-

T’was two weeks before Christmas and all through the Priory, everyone buzzed with holiday spirit. Patrick and Caitlin were back from school, Taggie was busy making hors d’oeuvres for all of the holiday parties she’d been hired to cater and you were enjoying a book by the fireplace. The only one who seemed unable to enjoy the season was Declan. He stomped about, going through receipts and orders and cards. His brows furrowed and his mustache curved with the harshness of his frown. 

“I can’t make sense of any of this,” he huffed. “Everything from the last ridiculous party she planned and I still don’t know what to do.”

You set your book aside. Even though Declan and Maud were no longer together, you knew her approval still meant a lot to him. That, and now that he was the face of Corinium, he was expected to be a bit of a socialite as well. 

“Why doesn’t she plan it herself?” You asked. 

He hated getting into the details of these things. As long as there were good drinks and decent music, he seemed happy. 

He ran a hand through his dark curls and collapsed onto the sofa beside you. 

“Because she won’t get here until Christmas Eve.” Declan blew out a long, tired breath. “And the kids have been hounding me about having something here for weeks. I think they’re too cooped up. Tired of the house. Tired of me.”

Caitlin had complained more than once about her ongoing boredom. 

You brought your legs up, draping them over his lap as you turned to face him. His hand found your calf, rubbing circles to soothe both you and himself. 

“Why don’t you let me do it?”

“Do what?”

You flicked his arm. “The planning, silly.” 

“You want to plan Maud’s party?” He scoffed. 

“Sure,” you shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

Declan grinned, snickering.

“What?” You asked. 

He just shook his head and kissed your cheek, pulling you closer as he stared into the fire. 

-

He’d tried to warn you. From the moment you volunteered to take over, Declan had told you it was not a task for the faint of heart. Especially since you were convinced the party had to be as extravagant and special as Maud’s would be. He wanted to tell you there was nothing to prove. That you didn’t need to dazzle everybody and put on some grand show. But you seemed excited to help, so he didn’t say anything. Besides, it was nice to focus on his work rather than invitations to people he’d rather not have to see more than he already did. 

Taggie knocked on the door of his office, apron covered with flour. “Have you seen Y/N?”

Declan glanced up from his papers. Bills he couldn’t pay and assignments he didn’t want. 

“She isn’t here?”

Taggie shook her head. “I was going to ask what she wanted me to make for the party.”

They looked at each other for a while until Declan shrugged.

“I have no idea,” he said. “She hasn’t told me anything.” 

“You mean you aren’t helping?” 

Declan scoffed. “I haven’t exactly had time, Taggie.” He put the papers aside. “And she won’t let me.”

“She won’t let you?”

“No. She won’t let me.”

She sighed. “Reminds me of me.” 

Taggie muttered, while it was nice not to be in charge for one, she felt a twinge of guilt thinking of you trying to throw everything together on your own. 

“If you find her, tell her I want to talk to her,” Declan said. 

Taggie snorted. “Right. Talk.”

“Your sister is rubbing off on you,” Declan groaned. "Run off."

Taggie left snickering. 

Declan tried to focus back on his work, but couldn’t. Maybe Taggie was right. Was he expecting too much of you? He wasn’t exactly known for his observation skills when the subject wasn’t an official or celebrity he wanted to tear apart. He didn’t want a whole fuss of a party anyway and now he was letting you bend over backwards to make it happen. He sighed, running a hand down his face. It was too late, of course. Declan knew if he said anything, you would assume you’d done something wrong. 

Your current situation did little to help. Having spent the last two hours haggling over second-hand decorations, you still didn’t have enough for both the entry hall and the dining room, not to mention other areas of the house. Plus, you’d need to repaint most of the wooden tree decorations, patch up the banners, and glue the ceramic snowman back together. The rest was a haphazard collection of string lights, ornaments, and brass angels you bartered for a steal. For you, it was enough. But for the O’Hara’s? For Declan? 

It was hard not to feel cast into a shadow when his ex was who she was. 

“Why couldn’t Maud be a minimalist?” You groaned. Maybe the girls could help you dig up some more decor from storage. Surely they had a snow or two tucked away somewhere. 

Stars… 

Now that gave you an idea. 

-

12 hours. That’s all the time you had left to prep the best Christmas party Declan’s family could have.

No pressure, right?

With the decorations set- you nearly broke your neck putting them up- now all you needed to do was make enough food for all the people you invited. Taggie had offered to help, but you insisted she spend Christmas Eve about town with her siblings. Of course, this left you standing in front of a dozen empty pans and no idea how to fill them. 

“How does she do this?” You muttered to yourself, looking over the recipe for the thousandth time. Mince pies, cranberry tarts, figgy pudding… it all could have been delivered, but making it yourself was cheaper. You knew money was tight, not that Declan would ever admit it. So it would be the best- and most affordable- Christmas party. 

Declan walked into the kitchen just as you were putting the first round of mini pies in the oven. 

“Maud called,” he sighed. He smoothed his wild curls only for them to pop out again. “She can’t make it.”

You almost dropped the pudding. “What?” 

“She can’t come home for Christmas.” He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but you heard it all the same. “Apparently there’s a big party with lots of directors who might cast her, so she’s staying in London.”

“Oh.” You turned away so he wouldn’t see your face fall. It was silly, really, to be upset. But you hadn’t realized how much you wanted to impress her until now. 

“I’m sorry, love.” Declan came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know how much work you’ve put into all this.”

Secretly, a small part of him was relieved, though it was a shame the kids wouldn’t see their mother on Christmas. 

Your back stiffened against his chest. 

“This is all the more reason to have this magnificent party,” you said, shrugging him away so you could get back to work. “It’ll be good for Patrick and the girls.”

Declan stood to the side, watching fierce determination overtake your features. 

He exhaled, surrendering. “Alright, love.”

-

The kitchen smelled like smoke and blackened fruit. Coughing, you pulled the tray of unsalvageable tarts from the oven and set them aside. You’d been so busy finishing up the decorations that you’d forgotten about them entirely. You opened the window despite the chill to let out some of the black clouds and godawful odor. 

Just half an hour before guests would start arriving and you’d just ruined half of the desserts. Pouring yourself a glass of whatever was closest, you just hoped they’d be content with free liquor after dinner. Maybe they’d get too drunk to care. 

“Are you setting fire to the entire neighborhood, because if so, at least spare my dogs.” A familiar snark sounded from behind you.

“Rupert? What are you doing here this early?” You gasped, wiping your hands on your apron. “Declan hasn’t had enough whiskey to tolerate you yet.”

“Then you should have invited more people,” he teased. Rupert entered the kitchen, leaning on the counter. “Why don’t you have Taggie help you? She’s perfect at this.” The admiration in his voice was hard to miss, but you ignored it.

“Because she deserves to spend Christmas with her family, not stuck in here with me.”

He raised a finger to point out you counted as family, but you interrupted. 

“And what do you mean, invite more people?” You put your hands on your hips. “I invited half of the Cotswolds.” 

Rupert winced. “Yes, well, that explains this then.” He pulled something from his jacket pocket. A stack of filthy, water-stained envelopes. “I didn’t find them til this morning. Postman must have dropped them in the garden when he got chased off by the dogs.” He handed the ruined invitations over. 

You stared at them, a lump forming in your throat.

“You mean… no one is coming?”

“I’m afraid not, darling.” He plucked a not-charred tart from the tray and popped it in his mouth. “But isn’t this better. A more intimate gathering with your mustachioed man?”

You shook your head, running your hand through your hair, breathing starting to pick up.

“Maud is staying in London,” you blurted. “So the family is without their mother for Christmas and I thought I could-”

“Replace her by throwing some ridiculous party?” He chuckled. His face fell, however, when he saw your lip quiver. “Darling, you know no one expects you to be Maud, don’t you?”

You looked away. 

“Nobody wants that.” He stepped forward. “Y/N, I’m sure they don’t. I’m a little relieved she’s not here, to be honest. She was always a bit much.” 

Shaking fingers struggled to untie your apron. You tossed it aside. 

“I have to go.” You hurried for the door, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter. 

“Y/N-” He started. 

The door slammed shut behind you. 

Rupert watched you go, sighed, and stole another tart. 

-

As the O’Haras piled into the main hall, Caitlin pinched Taggie’s arm, spotting the Minister of Sport coming out of the kitchen. 

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she whispered excitedly, earning a stern glance from their father. 

Taggie gulped. “Neither did I.”

Both watched their father put on a tight smile and approach the other man. 

“Rupert.”

“Declan.” Rupert’s smile was genuine, if not a bit arrogant. “I’m afraid I’ve been the bearer of bad news to your lovely Y/N,” he said. “All her invitations were lost to my flower bushes, left undelivered.”

“So there’s no one coming?” Patrick frowned. He’d hoped to meet some of his father’s good-looking TV hostess coworkers. 

“First mummy, now the whole town. Whatever will we do?” Caitlin said, eying Taggie and scooching her forward. When that didn’t work, she poked her brother. “Patrick scared them off with his terrible poetry.”

Patrick rustled her hair, making her squeak in protest. 

Declan ignored them. He ran a hand down his face and looked around at all you’d set up. You hadn’t even gotten to turn the lights on. 

“She seemed rather upset,” Rupert said, noticing Declan’s concern. “Ran off into the night. Very dramatic.” He leaned forward. “Perhaps you should go find her, hm?” He gave him a knowing look. 

Declan’s heart sank. He knew this wasn’t about the party. Not really. He just wished he’d realized it sooner. And before Rupert Campell-Black.

Starting for the door, he stopped, grabbing Rupert’s arm. 

“Don’t-” He narrowed his eyes, “-touch anything.”

He hurried off.

Rupert turned to the remaining O’Haras. 

“So,” he clapped his hands together. “Who knows where Declan keeps his best scotch?” 

-

He found you sitting on a snowy stump at the edge of the property. Declan watched the deep, shimmering green fabric of your dress sparkle in the moonlight, shifting as you lifted the bottle to your lips. You didn’t seem to see him approaching, eyes trained at the stars. 

“You look-” He sat beside you and kissed your cheek, “beautiful.”

“I don’t feel beautiful,” you muttered, taking another swig. The wine stained your lips a reddish purple but you didn’t care. Nobody would see it anyway. “I failed, Declan.”

“You didn’t fail.”

You scoffed. “The dessert is burnt, the decorations are literally hanging by a thread, and- oh yeah- none of it matters because no one is coming.” You raised your arm for another drink, but Declan grabbed the bottle, bringing it to his lips instead. 

Despite your efforts, your lip trembled. 

“I just wanted your family to have the perfect Christmas,” you said. 

“Is that what you think I care about?” He asked. “The extravagant party? The guests lined up down the pather?” Declan took your hands in his, trying to warm them from the chill. “Y/N, you’ve gotten me to look forward to a holiday for the first time in ages.” He brought your hands up for a lingering kiss. “Just by being you.” 

Your shaking stopped, tears chased away by his soft smile. You snatched the bottle back.

“Flattering will hardly make me feel better, Mr. O’Hara,” you teased. 

He raised a brown and leaned forward. 

“Does this?” He kissed your lips. “Or this?” Your jaw. “Or maybe…” The spot behind your ear. 

“Declan,” you breathed. 

He kept his lips by your ear, whispering. “You don’t have to be any more than you are, to be enough for me.”

Now, your tears returned for a different reason. Throwing your arms around him, you crashed your lips into his, forgetting what you’d been so upset about. Your hands found his hair, tangling those perfect black curls around your fingers. He reached one hand around you to hold you closer while the other rested on your thigh, creeping ever upwards. 

“If nobody is coming, can we start to eat?” Patrick called out over the lawn, making you jolt apart. 

You bit back a laugh, Declan’s face turning pink. “Go ahead!”

“Little bastard couldn’t wait ten more minutes?” Your frustrated boyfriend whined. 

“Ten minutes?” You stood, holding out your hand to help him. 

Declan pinched your upper thigh and scooped you up, both actions eliciting a squeal from your lips as he carried you back. 

-

“Ready?”

“Yes!” They all cheered, impatient.

You giggled, holding the switch captive in your hand. “You don’t look ready.”

“Get on with it, Y/N,” Caitlin whined, “turn them on!”

A chorus of pleas joined her. Declan just laughed, giving you a wide grin.

“You heard them,” he said.

“Alright, alright.”

You flipped the switch. All at once, the main hall lit up, and not just around the tree. Lights strung up above their heads created a canopy of color. Rupert turned on the speakers, filling the space with music. Exclamations of awe and excitement sounded all around you.

“Come on,” Caitlin said, dragging her siblings out to dance with her. Taggie glanced at Rupert, blush flooding her cheeks. He simply motioned for her to go on and dance.

Declan grabbed your hand.

“It’s perfect.” He kissed you deeply, making your knees weak as though he held you up in his embrace.

Caitlin made a teasing sound of disgust, but Taggie couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her father so happy.

Rupert leaned over to you as he strutted to join the others. 

“Told you so,” he whispered. You reached to smack him, but he shimmied out of the way.

“Told you what?” Declan asked. 

You curled a black strand around your finger. 

“That I didn’t have to prove something to be loved by you.”

He pressed a kiss to your palm.

“For once, Rupert and I agree.” He lead you out to dance, swaying slowly despite the cheesy song. 

“Merry Christmas, Declan.” You kissed him again, nuzzling closer. 

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

And so you all spent Christmas dancing to overplayed tunes under flashy, colorful lights. 

And it was perfect.

[madhatterbri]

Cold Christmas | J.U.

Summary: Christmas prompt #20, fic request for Jey Uso x reader? 🥰.

Requested by: @misskukinz95

Heavily written with: @theworldofotps

Author's Note: Taken from my Christmas/New Years Eve list found here.

Jey Uso Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @magicalbuttertarts @surdelcielo @hodgepodge-musings

'Join us for our annual Christmas party! This year's theme (Ugly Sweater). Wear your ugliest Christmas sweater, winner gets a gift card to restaurant of their choice.'

Y/n stared at the invitation in hand, Jimmy and Naomi's yearly Christmas party was one she always looked forward to. This year, however, was going to be much different than the previous years she went.

🎄

Jey stood in the kitchen nervously. He couldn't believe he was so nervous. It wasn't like he had a particular reason to be nervous. The girl of his dreams broke up with him because of her insecurities. It happens all the time, right?

The breakup was the worst he had ever experienced. He was madly in love with the girl. Dreams of starting a family with her dashed because of a storyline with Rhea Ripley.

Party goers were starting to trickle in. None were Y/N. He was half expecting her to not show up. All of his text messages were left on read. The stubborn woman wouldn't listen to him. Tonight had to be the night he got through to her somehow.

🎄

"I shouldn't even be here." Y/n sighed as she sat in her car staring at the house. It was decorated and the faint sound of music could be heard spilling outside.

She'd tried to get out of the party after texting Naomi, but the glow Queen wouldn't hear of it.

'You're coming to the party girl believe that.'

So here she was, walking up the sidewalk to a party where she would most definitely run into her ex. A man who still haunted her dreams and thoughts no matter how hard she tried to forget about him.

🎄

Jey walked outside in the cool, crisp night. Despite being against an ugly sweater party, it was a good idea to combat the cold. With keys in hand, he walked towards his car.

His mind drifted off to Y/N. She hadn't come yet. The girl was usually a stickler for getting to parties early. He used to hate it. Now, he wouldn't mind getting anywhere early if it meant she'd talk to him again.

He pressed the trunk signal on his car keys. The trunk opened up. Jey grabbed two beer cases like his brother requested. Besides being great wrestlers, Samoans knew how to drink.

Before heading inside, he closed the trunk and paused. A familiar perfume scent that he only knew one person to wear.

"Y/N?" He asked and looked behind him.

🎄

Y/n froze, she knew that voice anyway. She had spent so many nights listening as it whispered how much he loved her and the future they'd have together.

Swallowing the lump in her throat she slowly turned. Inclining her head slightly.

"Jey."

Her eyes drank in the sight of him, the last time she had seen him was when she walked out of their shared place over three months ago.

"You look well."

He was the opposite of well. His nights were spent smelling anything that reminded him of her. He clung on to her pillow like it was the last thing on Earth. On nights when he missed her the most, he drowned his sorrows in alcohol. He played old voice mails just to hear her say she loved him one more time.

"Yeah, so do you," he sighed.

A little too well. Maybe this was her plan all along. She didn't want to be with him anymore, and this was an easy way out for her.

Y/n shifted on her feet, pulling her jacket closer as the wind picked up. There was a hundred things she wanted to say to him, but she couldn't get them past her lips. How could he look so fine after things ended between them. Why wasn't she enough? What could she have done different to keep him from going to Rhea?

"Naomi invited me, I hadn't really planned on showing up but you know how she is."

This has to be the most awkward moment of her life. Hearing the laughter from inside she motioned with her head towards the house.

"Better get inside since it's so cold out here."

Jey nodded and walked next to her. A beer case in each hand. He wanted to show her that he wasn't with Rhea. Grab her head and make her see that this was all in her head. It would be stupid to try at the party. Everyone had already been drinking.

"They've already been drinking," he warned with a chuckle. "Solo, Jimmy, Naomi, all of them,"

Opening the door, she lets him step inside the house first before closing the door against the cold. Slipping out of her jacket, she smiled.

"I'm not surprised. They know how to party."

Hanging her jacket up, she looked around at the group of people talking and dancing.

"I probably won't stay long anyway, so I'll just find Naomi and say hi, I guess. Nice talking to you, Jey."

"Ye-yeah, same to you,"

Jey gave her space to enjoy the party. He didn't need her running away again. This was his moment to get his girl back and have everything right in the world again. When he saw she was starting to leave, Jey pushed himself through the crowd.

"Wait, please, before you go, can we please talk? It doesn't have to be here. We can go outside or in a bedroom. I miss you. I....I'm still in love with you," he pleaded. Jey couldn't let her walk out of his life again.

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

Y/n sighed, adjusting her coat and looking at him. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't still in love with this man.

"Please just five minutes I need you, I need us."

The look on his face made her pause, least she could do was hear him out again. Even if it hurt to do so. Reluctantly she nods turning to completely face him.

"Alright, let's talk."

Making their way back through the crowd Y/n followed him up the stairs. She couldn't help but think of the many times before that they did this, although they got very little talking done.

Jey's heart pounded in his chest. He had to make this time count. Life without Y/N wasn't worth living. He wasn't suicidal by any means, but nothing made him happy anymore. There was a hole in his heart, and only she could fill it.

He opened the door for her and closed it behind him. Jey locked the door so no one would disturb them. When he looked around the room, he kicked himself. Of course, he would choose the room they always went to for alone time.

"I didn't cheat on you, Y/N. I don't know what else I can do to prove that to you so we get back together again,"

'Why on earth would I ever cheat on you?' He'd asked her that question more than once, and at the time when the heart break was still freshly new she didn't have a straight answer.

But now she did.

"Because it's Rhea, because of that storyline. Because you looked at her the same way you used to look at me."

"What are you talking about?"

Jey paused. He could feel it. His anger was starting to get the better of him. Being persecuted for something he didn't do hurt.

"So I should just not look at any other woman for the rest of my life even if they are a co-worker?"

"No there's looking at a co-worker, and then looking at Rhea the same way you look at your girlfriend. Like she's the only person in the room."

Y/n didn't expect him to understand. He didn't feel like he was competing with other men.

"If the roles were reversed and I was hanging out with someone. Looking at them the way I did, you like I was in love with them. Then you'd understand what I'm getting at."

"But I am in love with you, Y/N! Why don't you understand that? For the past three months, it's only been you. You have to see that this is all just in your head. Rhea and I haven't done anything. She is married, and I had you," he explained.

The past tense hurt. Had. Jey had many things, but his relationship with her was the worst thing to no longer have. The wrestler hated coming home when she left. Long nights spent at his brother and sister in law's house.

"I'm not leaving here without us even if it's just starting from scratch. What can I do to make you mine again?"

"It's not just in my head, you don't get it. People claim they're in love all the time and it's still just as easy to push that aside when the right person comes along."

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, this wasn't easy. Leaving hadn't been easy either, having to survive these last three months without him was the hardest thing she's done.

"There's nothing you can do Jey."

She whispered blinking back tears wiping her face quickly she unlocked the door and walked out. Leaving him alone in the room that held more memories than she cared to think about. Y/n knew she couldn't stay here any longer. She pushed her way through the crowd ignoring any calls of her name and escaped outside into the cold.

[rodolfoparras]

due to again retail busy and I forgot how dumb and infuriating people can be and I have a fucking short fuse of an anger— have this before the smut for build up sugar cube :) again, merry Christmas to everyone here, I hope y'all are having a much better day, just wanna know how actually I'm proud to see the anons here saying great things they have achieved, including you Alec because moving into a new house especially where you feel like now you don't have to restrain from anything is a great feeling I can understand and I hope your staying safe out there (quite literally)

It started off as a joke. Really.

You stayed behind with some rookies after training them, a lot of them have questions from diet advice or their perks and Price was there due to needing to ask you for that report you were meant to write on his last mission.

Sure, kids are young, they'll let their mouth fly pass like a damn wind. Price understands that, but—

"Colonel, look at this reel, it's so funny." It was a video of a hairy male who at first mouthing lyrics to a rather ludicrous song about nasty acts, to when it suddenly transitioned to him wearing a bra that somehow perfectly cups his chest to look like a woman's.

The other, more sensible recruit of course elbowed his friend for showing this kind of thing to you, their superior— but Price didn't miss that subtle smirk you had and once glance towards him and his chest. To which that leads to here. Price still checking himself up in front of the mirror, after that day he impulsively bought a pair of blue sets of panties and bralette.

Insecurities makes him feel funny in this, even humiliated— sure, he could have read the room wrong, and god knows where'd his career he if it's true but... this could be a perfect chance for him to gain your attention, not as superior to subordinate, but with lust. He had fantasized too much on how your rough hands would feel like, that's for sure.

Price puts on his military suit again, the feeling of cotton material rubs against the thin lacy undergarments just puts a reminder on what he's doing— he needs to play his card right and maybe... *he'll get more than he bargaining.*

With that, Price knocks on the door of your office, taking a deep breath before straightening himself. In the back of his mind, doubts and doubts flood in— but the feeling of silk rubbing against his chest and the fullness of the plug nestled between his ass is enough to make him stay put and stand tall.

A low grumble was heard before the door swung open. You were there behind him, in your military suit as usual, looking down at him with an expectant look "Price, what is it?" You asked.

Price takes a gulp at the sight of you then, fuck he wants you. "Colonel, can I talk to you in private?" You nodded at that, letting him in and you closes the door behind him. "What is it?"

"Can you lock the door? Make sure no one's around?"

'I guess it's that confidential of a detail for a mission.' Is what you thought as you take a glance around before locking the door, hearing something shuffling and rustling behind you. "Price, is something the matter—" You didn't even get to finish your sentence as you were met with a sight of Price hurriedly stop undressing his military suit, revealing a skimpy lace bralette underneath, chest hair protrudes the cloth.

"I— was gonna say don't turn around.. yet."

Jesus Christ. You didn't know how long you were standing there, Price's hand still frozen by his belt before he looked down to see a dark stain in front of your straining bulge that look like it hurt. Oh. Did you just came, by just looking at him like this? He didn't know it'd work this well, or is it because it's him?

"Colonel?" "Ye— fuck, yeah?"

"Don't you wanna have a closer look?"

Let's just say, his confidence went racking up ever since that day and how others notice how often Price came by your office, often coming out with a satisfied look, and a limping legs.

Perhaps a hint of lace if you squint your eyes at the opened button on his chest.

🪂

AWOOOOOO AWEOOOOO AWEOOOO WEEPOOOOO IM GOONG YO LISE MU MIND IM GOING TO OOSE MY DAMN MIND LET ME ON LET ME IN LET MEN I RN

[kumkaniudaku]

Picture Day

Summary: You and Yahya prepare for a special keepsake and new holiday memories. 

Pairing: Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black!Reader

Word Count: 3,159

Warnings: None.

Previous: NEIGHBOR’S MASTERLIST

A/N: This one is for @ghostfacekill-monger. If you're new to these characters, I'll shamelessly plug the series above. Enjoy.

If the Abdul-Mateen family was nothing else, they were a collection of Black folks with big personalities and a flair for the dramatic. Everything from how Yolanda and Senior's home was lit up with carefully placed string lights to the interior decor that Yolanda poured her heart and soul into for no other reason than to see how her grandchildren's eyes lit up when they stepped into her home. And to make their neighbors across the street, the Walters, seethe in jealousy when they step outside their home to see such an extravagant display of taste and wealth. But that was a different conversation to have over aged Cabernet after photos for the annual holiday card were wrapped and the ladies were left to their own devices while the men did whatever it was they did in Senior's parlor. 

Upstairs, as bodies whizzed from room to room to meet their strict 12:30 pm call time, Yahya chased a giggling toddler version of himself down the hallway before extending his long arms to pull the little one into the air just before he could reach the stairs for the third time that half-hour. 

"Damn, boy," he panted before wincing at the ache in his back as he stood up straight. "Remind me to tell your mama you need to run track in a few years. You got your daddy's speed." 

Yahya, half-dressed and already sweating from the stuffy sweater and playing wrangler for his rambunctious mini-me, looked down at his son's feet and noticed that he'd forgotten to add the one part of his outfit that would keep him from moving so fast. He'd learned to toddle but hadn't quite grasped the concept of doing so in footwear. 

He set off to consult the one person with supreme knowledge and authority in their shared household across town. 

In a junior suite on the first floor, he listened to you hum along to Gucci Mane's Christmas album at the bedroom's threshold, out of breath and at his wit's end. He knocked twice before speaking.

"Baby, where are Nasir's shoes?" 

"Next to his sweater." 

"Got it," Yahya answered, eyes still blank as if you had never given him an answer. He started to walk out but doubled back. "And if I were looking for his sweater, where would that be?" 

Holding a breastfeeding baby in one arm and pressing brightening concealer under tired eyes was your primary task that your man promised he wouldn't interrupt. But his oldest son was an adventurous, hard-to-wrangle rascal with all his features and a knack for wearing out even the most seasoned professional. 

Peeling your eyes from your vanity mirror, you looked over at him and his worried expression to offer a bit of reassurance. "I left it on the ottoman in the sitting room so he'll be distracted during his screentime."

When it came to your boys, every detail was tediously planned from sunup to sundown. Yahya still hadn't convinced you to make schedules for any other aspect of life like grocery shopping or tax paying, but motherhood was different. Motherhood was sacred and beautiful, and everything else you didn't expect when that pregnancy test came up positive not once but twice in three years of partnership.

Yahya smiled at your thoughtfulness before answering. "Thank you, baby. I promise to leave you alone now." 

"You're okay. That's why we work together. Come here." Yahya added a little spring to his step as he closed the short distance between you two, stopping just short for a silly little two-step before bending forward to meet your lips for a few quick pecks and leaving a couple for Tariq's forehead as he suckled from your breast. Your hand lingered on his cheek while you spoke. "You're a good man, Savannah. A good man." 

"What's crazy is that nigga was not a good man," he laughed. 

"Okay, but why did you ruin the moment?"

Yahya lifted his hands in surrender. "My fault, baby. Gas me up."

Affirmations of his worthiness as a husband and father murmured between quick kisses made Nasir giggle until both of you turned your attention to showering him in praise, too. He'd learned a few new words as the year ended. All of them expletives or some form of your shared pet names, but new words nonetheless. 

While the cute family moment pulled you away from getting ready, Amir walked past the room and doubled back to stop the lollygagging at his mother's behest. He wore the mantle of enforcer with pride. 

"Aye, man, y'all ain't ever heard of a call time? Don't have my mama looking for y'all. You know her sciatica actin' up."

"Her what?" 

"Don't make me repeat it. You know I got a heavy tongue." You tried but failed to contain your laughter, pulling Yahya in to join as he stood to readjust Nas on his hip. Amir feigned his offense with a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, so y'all are ableists? This is crazy." 

"No, you're just an idiot. I knew they adopted you," Yahya answered back, the taunting tone of a younger sibling thick in his voice and a childish grin to match. 

Amir scoffed and looked in your direction. "You see what happens when a nigga gets back cool with his daddy? He start actin' entitled and whatnot. Should've never allowed y'all to reconcile. I miss emotionally charged Christmas."

Yahya's jaw hung slack while you tucked both lips into your mouth to conceal the unruly laugh deep within your soul. It didn't matter how long you were part of their family; the jokes at the other's expense would never cease to amaze you. No one could eviscerate the Abdul-Mateen clan like the members within their close-knit circle. 

Though impressed with his older brother's quick wit, Yahya couldn't allow the annoyance in his expression to falter for even a moment. He pretended to laugh as he geared up for a retort that didn't quite come close to the earlier jab but fulfilled his need to feel victorious. 

"That's why Hassan is getting the house in the will." 

"You thought you did something. I knew that already. You just now gettin' into those rooms, my boy." 

Thwarted again. Yahya looked to you for backup while you carefully helped Tariq end his feeding session and returned your breast to its rightful home. "Amir, if you keep talking to my man like that, we gon' have an issue. You know what happened last time." 

"My fault, OG," he answered, tapping the space over his heart to signal his allegiance as memories of the night a few too many postpartum cocktails had you reliving the early days of your relationship with the family. "Y'all got it. I don't want no problems. You a good man, Savannah."

"That's what I said!"

A half-decade of family dinners, vacations, and game nights creating inside jokes and sharing funnies between kindred spirits was bound to result in some personality transfer. Still, Yahya could never, in a million years, predict that you and Amir would become two hosts for nearly the same brain. 

Yahya looked between the both of you, confused and amused at the sheer absurdity of the unlikely moment of deja vu. "I never should've introduced y'all. Now I'm married to Amir: The Sequel." 

"Oh, please," you scoffed as you turned back to the mirror. "I am way too fine to claim that position. No offense, Amir."

"I'm not gon' act like there's none taken. That hurt. Thought we were better than that, Tootie. At least I still got my nephews on my side." 

"You do not," Yahya answered, playfully shielding both boys from their uncle's affection. "I'm raising my kids to dislike you. This is a family that hates before we love. If nobody else gon' keep it going, I will. You know me."

While the youngest brothers fell into their typical back-and-forth exchange of jabs covered in an unmistakable love for one another, you let the familiar chatter surround you in the kind of warmth that could only be felt in the presence of family. 

To think that there was once a time when the family was split into factions too stubborn to have a civil conversation seemed like an alternate reality. You'd traversed the hardships of severed bonds to come out on the other end triumphant, with your relationship intact and growing by the minute. 

As chatter grew louder, more guests seeking refuge from Yolanda's iron fist trickled into an already crowded room. Hassan rounded the corner with Lourdes and Sha'Tarra in tow, two of them holding separate glasses of spirits you could've sworn were off-limits until the evening.

Hassan chimed in, loud and gregarious, courtesy of the expensive whiskey in his half-empty glass. "Damn, we having a meeting, and nobody told us?" 

"I always knew you liked Tootie more than me," Lourdes playfully accused Amir.

"You know they have a standing weekly lunch, right?" Tarra laughed as she rested against the quartz bathroom counter in her red satin dress that barely contained the seven-month pregnant belly she was starting to abhor. "Every Wednesday at Kismet downtown. Oh my God, I could go for some of their wings right now. Baby, can you order some for me? It's for AJ, and your mama is starving us." 

Amir placed a chaste kiss on his wife's forehead to placate her before delivering devastating news. "I love you so much, baby. But my mama is gone be the reason AJ goes to college. We makin' money, but we ain't making Ivy League tuition money yet. Here. Chew some gum. It'll fill you up."

The room lit up with laughter except for Tarra, who screwed her face and smacked the stick of gum meant to cure her hunger out of Amir's hand. You chuckled along as you swapped children with Yahya and focused on cleaning Nasir's face for the hundredth time. 

"If you want 'em, we packed some apple and carrot slices for Nas as a snack. They're in the loft and all yours." 

The mention of a worthwhile snack made Tarra giddy enough to wiggle through her excitement while brandishing a manicured middle finger meant especially for her husband on her way out the door.

"Thank you, girl. At least somebody cares about me."

"You always coming to the rescue. Are you trynna steal my shine," Hassan asked with a laugh. 

You shook your head. "Nah. I'm trynna steal Yahya's shine. You know he's the golden boy. I need them privileges for all my hard work keeping this family together."

"She's not wrong. Senior hasn't been this happy since…well, hell, I don't think I've ever seen your father this happy." Lourdes laughed. 

"Turned him into sitcom dad in three years. You really might be a magician. You do taxes, Tootie?" 

Loud laughter bounced off the bathroom walls at Amir's joke and the noticeable shift in Senior's behavior. A once hard man never known for pleasantries or extending kindness beyond his wife and grandchildren had blossomed into the quintessential loving grandfather. 

A grand smile big enough to rival the sun had found a permanent home on his lips since the day Yahya met you at the end of a short backyard aisle and pledged his love to you forever and always. He was there when each of his youngest grandchildren were born, spent birthday parties dressed as a host of characters, played with action figures and dolls, and made time for weekly appointments with all of his children, natural and inherited. 

Despite your humble denial that you had nothing to do with such a stark transition, you'd been credited with re-introducing the family to the best version of Senior they'd ever experienced. 

Especially by Yahya, who finally got to know his father in a way he'd always desired. 

"That's my baby," Yahya gushed, a silly grin gracing his face as he affectionately gripped your chin for a quick kiss. "You don't want her handling your money, though. She has no clue what a budget is." 

"Why would I need a budget?"

"You sound like your mother-in-law, young lady."

A booming voice projecting beyond a ridiculous faux Santa beard came into the room shortly before Senior's physical presence joined the growing party. A glass of whiskey in his hand matched his oldest son's, making for a silent toast from across the way as they took identical sips. 

He continued. "In here hiding from the lady of the house," he asked as he looked around the space at faces that gave answers that their mouths wouldn't dare utter. He took another sip and nodded. "This is a good spot. I usually do the cellar, but this works. She will find you, though." 

"She always does. She is basically Detective Stabler in a pair of Dior slippers." Yahya laughed, earning a smile from his father. 

An overlapping chorus of brief personal memories of being found by Yolanda amid a one-sided game of hide and seek. She always won no matter how they attempted to outsmart and evade her watchful eye. 

Quickly finding his collection of older children uninteresting, Senior turned his attention to Nasir and Tariq, pulling the infant from his youngest son's arms to speak at him in a high-pitched voice. 

"You win, my girl. Sorry, I ever doubted you. But using the baby is a dirty tactic."

"Who told you I played fair?"

"Touché."

Senior watched you and Amir exchange a handshake too complicated for his taste and screwed his face in growing confusion. "Win what? You two gambling again?" 

"They think Tootie's your favorite now. Yahya lost his spot at the top." Hassan cut in. 

The older man scoffed. "All of you are too old to be my favorite anything." 

"But if you had to choose, it's Tootie, right?" 

"I'm not answering that," he laughed before a quick pause to eye them all individually. He stopped at you and smiled, adding a wink before speaking again. "She isn't half bad if that's what you're asking." 

Another round of laughter and collective conversation proved fatal as Yolanda marched down the hallway with Macie in tow. The soft clicking of her heels across wood floors didn't register amongst the chatter until it was too late. Your attempt to signal the others was futile. All of you were caught again. 

Yolanda cleared her throat, freezing everyone in an instant. She folded her arms over her chest. "Is this what I get in return for all my hard work and planning? Are you hiding from me?" All in the room rushed to deny her accusation to no avail. She couldn't be fooled. "And then you lie to me. Am I nothing to you people?"

Her heavy dose of guilt worked how she'd intended, producing averted gazes and murmured apologies that made her bite back a triumphant smile. 

"That's why I came down here, honey," Senior lied as he approached her for a kiss she didn't return. "They don't listen. I'm so glad you came to back me up. Bad, bad children the who-" 

"You're laying it on thick. Stop while you're ahead."

"Yes, ma'am. Stopping now."

A tense silence hung in the room while they waited for Yolanda to unleash her wrath. You looked between everyone, your brain scrambling in a frantic search for words that could turn the snafu into more of a misunderstanding than an intentional slight. 

Finally, your mind drafted an appropriate response. "We just wanted to get out of your way, Ms. Yolanda. Amir came to tell us you were almost ready for us, just like you asked, but I know you need quiet for a masterpiece. We should start outside so the folks across the street can get a reminder on who really runs Christmas around here." 

The mention of the Walters family getting a glimpse of her kin all dressed in their holiday best brought back a competitive light to Yolanda's eyes as she smiled. 

"You're right. I like the way you think," she started, her gaze far off for a moment while she envisioned the looks on their smug faces. She slowly refocused and waved her hands in the air. "Wrap this up and do it quickly. We have photos to take! C'mon, Senior. And take off that ridiculous beard. It's giving me "the ick," as Macie would say."

A collective sigh of relief was released as Yolanda left the room with her granddaughter hot on her heels, imitating her every move as a last-ditch effort to score the Christmas gift at the top of her list. Senior turned to the group and gestured toward you as soon as she was out of earshot. 

"Now, can any of you do that?" 

He didn't wait to hear an answer. As quickly as he could pass Tariq back to Yahya, he was off to comply with his wife's strict instructions. 

One by one, the others trickled out, leaving behind various iterations of praise for your quick thinking and the recognition that you, in fact, had claimed the coveted throne with no worthy competitor in sight. 

As the room returned to comfortable quiet, Yahya turned to you as you stood from the vanity to get a final look at your gown. He called your name softly before capturing your hand in his to pull you flush to his body. 

A slow and thorough kiss connected your lips and tongues until he was confident that his actions had conveyed his point. But, just in case they didn't, he praised you with his words. 

"If I was gonna give up my spot, I'm glad it's to you." 

"I only wanna be queen of your heart, baby," you giggled. "The rest of this is just extra." 

He chuckled at your smooth talking. "You can't finesse a finesser, baby. Who do you think talked you into all this? You ain't married with kids for no reason." 

"Oh, please! Santa gave me all this. I had it on my list." 

"Yeah, right." 

Stolen kisses and lingering touches were cut short at a second call of their names from the hallway. Yahya reluctantly took the boys out of the bathroom's safety and into the winter chill, leaving you alone for a final moment of peace. 

You took a look at your reflection, allowing a small smile to creep across your lip as your eyes swept over every change in your body since a fated meeting in your old apartment building. Formal gowns for family photos. A wedding ring that glittered in the light. A crazy bonus family that loved you dearly. Extra weight from two safe births only a few short years apart. All from a quick conversation with the guy next door. 

"Thank you, Santa. This is cool or whatever."

Straightening the strap on your dress, you stood up a little straighter and laughed at yourself before flipping the light switch and joining your family. Santa had outdone himself yet again.

---

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[piftamere]

eight - girlfriendy (wc : 2k)

she settles into a seat in the stands, scanning the players as they warm up on the court below. her gaze lands on atsumu, who’s stretching on the sidelines, completely unaware of her presence. she’s here for entertainment purposes only. and she’s not sure if he’d like that she’s hoping his team will lose today. she doesn’t know much about volleyball, having never made the effort of learning the rules, so she mainly pays attention to how the crowd and players react. even while dating shion, she rarely came to his games. soon into the relationship, she realized she didn’t care for it.

but she can't help herself now, when she spots shion stumble and miss a save, she has to fight back a laugh, savoring the sour look on his face. she’s debating taking a picture to cherish this moment forever when suddenly her gaze catches atsumu’s across the court. he looks taken aback at first, his eyebrows raising and eyes widening, but his surprise is replaced by a grin as he gives her a quick wave. she waves back, though a little less excitedly. it doesn’t go unnoticed by the libero, whose face turns a bitter and angry shade of red.

soon, it’s atsumu’s turn to serve. she’s caught off guard by the shift in his demeanor. how intense and focused he looks, completely different from how she’s used to seeing him. she finds herself unable to look away, completely drawn in by this unfamiliar side of him. he takes a few steps back and raises his hand to silence the crowd. without meaning to, she’s on the edge of her seat. then, he jumps, swinging his arm to hit the ball with a deafening sound… only for it to lend out of bounds.

she tenses, expecting his teammates or coach to start yelling, but instead, laughter echoes through the team. they’re clearly teasing him, if she were closer, she could hear them make fun of him for missing with his “little girlfriend” watching. atsumu, however, lets out a frustrated groan, flushing deep red as he tries to brush it off.

shion is burning holes in the back of atsumu’s head the entire match, she doesn’t miss a second of it. she might paint his expression to put on her christmas cards, who knows.

when atsumu’s turn to serve rolls around again, she shrinks back into her seat, worried about the outcome. atsumu tosses the ball, eyes locked onto his target and smashes it over the net. it lends perfectly in the far corner on the other side of the court. she releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding, her nerves melting into a small proud smile.

one ace turns into another, and another… after his fourth ace in a row, the energy in the stands is electric. as he walks back for his fifth serve, she sees shion move deliberately across his path. he bumps into atsumu’s shoulder, muttering something under his breath atsumu only scoffs in response, choosing to ignore shion’s petty attempt at provocation.

the other team manages to receive the serve this time, but msby take the point anyway. as the game goes on, she finds herself engrossed more and more. each serve, each spike, each receive pulls her in deeper into the match, hanging onto every point. by the time the match point approaches, her eyes are locked on atsumu, fingers gripping the seat as her heart pounds in her chest almost as loud as the cheering around her.

when the number 12 scores on a ball atsumu passed him, she jumps out of her seat. her eyes meet atsumu’s, both grinning, and her breath catches in her throat. soon his teammates surround him in celebration.

she hurries down the stands and when she reaches the bottom she sees shion inches from atsumu’s face, a taunting look on his features. a familiar, mocking sneer, the same that had caused so many of their arguments in the past. from where she’s standing, she can’t make out shion’s exact words but she can read them in atsumu’s expression, by the way he’s tightening his jaw

his fists are clenched by his sides, knuckles white, but instead of reacting, he turns to leave, a move that only seems to anger shion more. he grabs the blond by the shoulder, forcing him to turn around.

“look at me when i’m talking to you!” shion screams, his voice sharp and accusing. it echoes through the gym, catching the attention of everyone around, who are now staring with wide eyes.

atsumu stands his ground, his expression shifting from anger to an infuriatingly calm, condescending smirk. “stop embarrassing yourself shion,” his voice laced with defiance, challenge.

things escalate in a matter of seconds. shion raises his fist, aiming for atsumu’s jaw. their coach and captain rush in just in time to grab his arm, holding him back as atsumu chuckles and walks away as if nothing had happened.

she joins atsumu, not sparing shion a glance as she walks past him.

“congrats!” she says, her smile warm.

“thank you!” he grins, opening his arms as if to hug her but then pausing, looking down at his sweat-soaked shirt with a sheepish chuckle. he grabs a towel, wiping his face in a towel before continuing, “didn’t know you were coming today.”

“i wanted to keep it a surprise,” she replies with a soft laugh.

“did you like the game?”

“it’s just guys running around,” she shrugs with a smirk, “it’s not as bad as i remembered it.”

“’m glad.” he chuckles.

he takes a long sip from his water bottle, glancing over his shoulder as if checking that shion was gone before turning back to her with a grin.

“come, i’ll introduce you to my roommates,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “fair warning though, they’re kind of… a lot.”

“more than you?” she teases, quirking an eyebrow.

he laughs, rolling his eyes, as he swings his towel over his shoulder. “shut up” he mutters, with a grin as they head towards a group of three chatting by the stands.

“you know,” she starts, “i’ve actually met them before.”

“yea?” he looks at her curiously, “when?”

“a few months ago.” she pauses, looking ahead, “i went with shion to a party, after a win. didn’t really talk to them, though.”

he notices she’s evasive, as usual.

“wait- did we meet at this party?” he asks, his playful smirk faltering slightly, “I think id remember talking to ya.” he adds with a wink, but it doesn’t quite mask the worry in his eyes.

“briefly. but you were really drunk. it makes sense that you don’t remember.” she replies, her tone slightly colder than before.

“oh, god.” he groans, hiding his face in his hands. after a beat, he peaks out from between his fingers, “please tell me I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

“no more than usual, don’t worry.” she chuckles, her voice light and playful, but the warmth in her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

oblivious, he lets out a relieved sigh, “…good.”, after a beat he leans in closer and whispers “if sakusa’s a dick, don’t take it to heart. he’s just like that.”

“um, noted.”

atsumu (re)introduces her to the group, and like he said, they are a lot.

hinata, whom she already knew of thanks to kageyama, and bokuto surround her almost immediately. bombarding her with questions about her life, her interests, and their own stories faster than she can keep up. sakusa, on the other hand, is quieter, watching the scene with an amused expression. he occasionally joins in to add quick jokes at atsumu’s expense, earning a laugh from her every time.

hinata is cut off by a high pitch squeal of atsumu’s name, and she sees an older woman waving in their direction. her brows furrow as she looks at atsumu, confused.

he grimaces, “forgot about that…” he runs a hand through his hair and sighs as the woman, followed by an even older woman and a dark haired man around their age walk their way. “that’s my family, it’s not too late to run away you know.” he whispers as they approach with out stretched arms.

she barely has the time to think about it that they’re standing in front of her, smiling warmly.

“hey mom, gran, ’samu,” he takes them in his arms one by one, then turns to her with a sheepish smile, “um, meet yn… a friend.”

his mother and grandmother’s faces light up, as they share a knowing look, not believing she’s ‘just a friend’ for even a second. he continues, “yn, meet my mom, grandma and my brother.”

before either of them can process it, his grandma clutches her hand warmly, “honey, you gotta join us! we’re celebratin’ the win, and we made way too much food.” his grandma says, her voice soft and warm, her accent even more noticeable than atsumu’s.

he leans in to whisper in her ear again, “y’don’t have to go if you don’t wanna,” but his smile betrays him. she finds herself agreeing without a second thought.

atsumu takes the time to shower and get changed, giving her time to rethink her life choices, and they head back to his family’s house. it’s small, but charming. the floorboards creak under their feet, the walls are covered in pictures, memories. she can easily picture atsumu growing up here.

over lunch, the subject quickly shifts from the win to embarrassing childhood stories. each one making atsumu sink further into his seat. unsurprisingly, osamu is the one who starts the topic, with the tale of the time his twin abandoned him at the playground and tried to convince everyone he had always been an only child.

as the afternoon passes by, she relaxes, feeling more at ease with his family. atsumu offers to give her a tour of the house, thinking she most likely needs a break from his sweet but overwhelming family.

they walk the hallway to atsumu’s childhood bedroom. the walls covered in family pictures. she can see the twins in matching outfits over the years and makes a mental note to never let atsumu live that down. she stops in front of the picture of a man who is the spitting image of atsumu. there aren’t a lot of him on the wall.

“is that your father?” she asks, her tone hesitant.

“yea,” he takes a deep breath, “he died when i was a kid. if you’re wondering why he’s not, um… here.”

“f- i’m sorry.”

“’s okay. there was no way for you to know.”

she stands in place for a moment, staring at the portrait. then she turns to him with the softest expression he has ever seen on her face. “it must have been really hard for you.”

he nods, lips thinning into a tight smile, “yea…”

she doesn’t know what to say, the air is thick. this is too much, too serious, too real. this isn’t supposed to happen, she needs to get out of here.

before she can, atsumu’s hand brushes against hers and, instinctively, she intertwines her fingers with his.

he squeezes her hand tightly, and she thinks that, maybe, she doesn’t need to say anything.

when it’s time to leave, his mom pulls her into a hug, wrapping her arms around her firmly, like she’s already part of the family. it catches her off guard, a warmth she’s never quite felt before, not even from her own mother. she melts into her arms.

“it was a pleasure to meet you sweetheart, come back anytime.”

it stirs something in her, a sense of comfort she’s afraid to lean into.

but the scariest part of all is the quiet realization creeping up on her, maybe, just maybe, she’s getting a little too attached herself.

fun facts

atsumu missed his first ace, but not because he was nervous (totally because he was nervous)

his mom and grandma interpreted 'friend' as ‘gf who's not official yet’.

atsumu knew yn was watching so he acted all cool and calm, but he really didn't want to get punched... he was so scared

after the game hinata called kageyama to tell him everything that happened (the win, shion and atsumu almost fighting...)

and kageyama immediately told yachi, kiyoko and noya

yn left atsumu on delivered :/

author's note

fatherless miya twins is canon to me

more lore on atsumu and yn :0 (even more in the next part)

play dumb! - next

taglist : open!

@alpha-mommy69 @bakugouswh0r3 @giocriedpower @itsdragonius @haechansbbg @wondipity @iaminyourfloors @na0koz @from-mae @eusaevi @kr1nqu @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @thechaosoflonging @littlemiyastars @seikamuzu @nymphsdomain @r4veeen

if you're name is crossed out i couldn't tag you, if it's not fixed in a week i'll remove you sorry :(

[aboringredmop]

k still don't know how im gonna post the videos (YouTube? unlisted?someone please help) but I can't sleep so I thought it'd write down whatever I remember happening!

(edit: here's the full recording! )

Becky and Joe walked on stage wearing sunglasses and red leather jackets and threw 3 of the trio plushies into the crowd. didn't get one unfortunately but it's really cool some people got free plushies :)

they made this robot child called the Inspiration Child, who's clearly meant to be a nod to ai (can learn from our show and generate it's own content!)

they explained how they met (and had some dodgy animated retelling), and how they started with small projects like commercials and music videos, until they came up with designs of the trio (and a mysterious fourth fella)

they made the designs first, then made the set, then the song and finally wrote the script for creativity. red guy was just a red mop head with legs at first ("alien squid thing") but Joe put the red guy head on for shits and giggles once and Becky thought it was hilarious so they kept it in the show

they were really not expecting it to blow up, and when Sundance called because they wanted to show creativity Becky thought it was a scam caller lol

they talked about the kickstarter and the credit card fraud kid. the mailed him saying "hey maybe dont do that" but the kid didnt know how to undo it cuz he just found a website full of credit card information and went ham, so Becky and Joe had to contact kickstarter because people were pulling out of the funding because they thought the project was overfunded (kickstarter was very difficult to contact)

they also made (lighthearted) fun of nsfw fluffybird art ((no padlock 😔) "using OUR characters to act out their SICK FANTASIES" - Becky) and theorists, especially because most if not all of the webseries is just them fucking around.

Inspiration Child also says something along the lines of "wow what a cool show with a great message of how corrupt the media is. I hate the media!"

Becky and Joe had these rules to make the show as vague as possible (no pop culture references, no names, no swearing and way too much detail put into small things)(the duck guy drag queen absolutely obliterates the no swearing rule lol)

they talk about the pilot, how they focused too much on the story because they felt like they had to due to it being on the big screen now, and how it ended up ruining the atmosphere and such of the pilot. they did show the entire thing sped up but my phone sucks ass so I could not get it to focus correctly. I'll see what I can salvage so you people can dissect frames of your blorbo you're Legally Not Allowed To See (which is also the official reason we don't get the pilot)

also pilot concept art showed that Mean Steve is in fact just called Key

they showed a whole post-it wall full of ideas for the tv show. don't know how much I got on footage, but what stood out most to me were 2 episodes called Money and Christmas. Joe mentioned "clock in a wheelchair" specifically

also really fun fact. Becky made the Lesley suit during covid, and pretty much threatened Baker into writing a human character into the show to wear it. concept art also shows Lesley with a mask made out of the same fabric, don't know if this was part of the original suit tho

they showed Warrens old models (?). he was gonna be a wayy more ugly looking silicone pug-worm thing y'all got lucky with the bald fuck

lily and todney were directly based off of some cancelled show about two porcelain doll children with panda parents. do not for the life of me remember what it was called but Becky and Joe were very enthousiastic about it (UPDATE: Candy and Andy!)

international release of the show soon!

Inspiration Child talks about what he's learned and sings a little song, then generates his own dhmis inspired content of a cult meeting in a forest at night. the dhmis Discord server called this "potential new content" but I doubt it

3 cultists walk on stage, face the screen backs to the crowd, drop their cloaks and boom! drag queens!!!

they were not mentioned on the site or during earlier parts of the show at all so they were a complete surprise. I asked Becky about it later during the night and she said she really wanted them there, so she asked and they were excited to! hope this means more official content with them soon I love them

they dance to There's Three Of Us, then Duck lipsings the shredder song which turns into a techno remix while Red and Yellow dance during the background

then Duck and Yellow make out while Red tries to undress to the instrumentals of the Fucked Up Part of Creativity but can't get out of his suit on time before the song ends

the drag queens, Becky and Joe and the Inspiration Child walk around during the meet and greet later and I got signatures from all of them! except inspiration child he didn't have thumbs

the drag queens were so fucking funny. Duck adopted inspiration child and loudly yelled at everyone to "GET AWAY FROM MY FUCKING CHILD" (their duck voice is sooo good). yellow stood in a corner staring at a wall for like 10 minutes and red was constantly awkwardly hovering just outside the frames of pictures (and also could not see shit lmao)

Becky liked my shirt! (the one with the melting trio heads) said she handdrew it

I'll post the signatures and some more stuff tomorrow because it is. 5 am

edit Heres the signatures! yellow guys is Italian I think? and means hi I love you :)

(the liyskaen is duck trying to spell my name. they got pretty close)

[wordsarelife]

DAY 23: WHAT CHRISTMAS MEANS TO ME

-> part 2 of it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

pairing: platonic!slytherin group x fem!reader

summary: when you don't turn up for breakfast one morning, your friends go on a scavenger hunt to find you

warnings: mentions of illness, a bit of angst, but happy ending

the slytherin boys and pansy were sitting in their usual seats at the slytherin table, eating their breakfast

"where is y/n?" draco asked pansy, while he folded the paper to put it down

"probable hanging mistletoes around the school" mattheo joked

"she's still in the dorm. she didn't want to come down with me" pansy shook her head

"she didn't want to?" theo asked "is something wrong?"

"she's probably planning another of those christmas surprises" blaise laughed "first the picture and next we have to handwrite the cards too"

"is she alright?" enzo slapped blaise on the arm "it's unlikely for her to skip breakfast"

"she didn't talk much" pansy shrugged "i asked her if she wanted to come down and she just shook her head and turned back around"

"she's still in bed?" draco asked baffled "yeah, this absolutely doesn't seem likely, don't you think?"

"hmm" mattheo nodded "if you put it like this"

“okay, now, what do we do? do we go to the dorm?” enzo asked shrugging

“do i look like a girl to you?” draco deadpanned

“no..?” enzo looked confused

“then how am i supposed to ‘go to the dorm’?”

“huh”

“why don’t you ask her what’s going on?” theo looked at pansy “maybe you can get her to come downstairs, we can wait there for you”

before pansy got a chance to answer, blaise chimed in “you mean.. right before class?”

“we’ll just cut breakfast short and go now” mattheo suggested

“do we have to?” blaise didn’t receive an answer, just angry looks from his friends “okay, okay” he raised his hands in defeat “we go now”

the group got up from their seats and walked back to the slytherin common room. the boys sat down while pansy walked up to your shared dorm, to get you downstairs

“y/n?” she asked, as she didn’t see you in bed like she had initially expected. she looked around the room, you were nowhere to be found. just like the christmas decor you had put up.

pansy walked into the room, opened the closet and wondered where you could’ve went. and why you took the christmas decorations with you. you loved christmas and you never took down the decorations until it was atleast february.

the boys looked up as pansy came back down. “she isn’t in our room”

“what?” blaise almost screeched.

“how more clearly can she put it?” theo asked sarcastically.

“so we came here for nothing?” blaise shook his head frustrated.

his friends ignored him. “where could she have gone?” mattheo asked. no one knew an answer. they sat down frustrated.

"she took the decor away too" pansy said suddenly and all the boys looked up in surprise.

"what?" blaise asked

"how more clearly can she-"

blaise interrupted theo. "no, like genuinely what?" even blaise seemed to be worried now "was she held at gunpoint, being forced to take it down and then got kidnapped?"

"doesn't seem likely" draco shook his head

"no" mattheo interfered "he's onto something. you know y/n! she's basically santa clause if he was a cute girl"

"i think she loves christmas more than she loves all of us" enzo nodded.

"seriously, what happened to our y/n?" pansy let her face sink into her hands.

"are you searching for y/n?" a voice behind the couch made them perk up. it was one of the second years y/n was tutoring.

"tell us what you know, little boy" blaise encouraged

the boy send him a weird look and turned his head to look at pansy instead, someone who seemed a lot more sane and he knew to be y/n's best friend. "she told me she couldn't make it to our tutor session today and then she said she was going to the library"

the walk to the library was one of the fastest things the slytherins had ever done, desperate to quickly find you.

after they had stumbled into the room, they had been immediately thrown out by madam pince, who didn’t want any disturbance before ten o’clock atleast

“okay” theo said to the woman “do you at least know if y/n is here?”

“y/n?” madam pince repeated and no one of your friends was surprised that you were on first name basis with the libertarian. “yes, she was here, about thirty minutes ago. she brought back a book and helped me put a few away”

“did she tell you where she was going?” pansy asked the woman, who seemed a lot friendlier since you had been mentioned.

“yes, she wanted to get some fresh air, she said”

“so she’s outside?” draco concluded.

madam pince just shrugged, before she had that look on her face again, that told all of them that the conversation was over.

before they had started to walk away, she did say something else. something uncharacteristically nice, which made your friends worry even more. “i hope you find her”

the slytherin group stepped out into the cold winter air, their breath visible in the early morning frost. they followed faint traces of your presence—disheveled footprints in the snow, and a few abandoned christmas decorations.

"she was definitely here," mattheo observed, picking up a fallen ornament. "but where did she go?"

blaise pointed to a few scattered snowflakes that floated gently in the breeze. "magic residue. she's been using some spells."

draco frowned, scanning the landscape. "we need to think like y/n. where would she go for some solitude and fresh air?"

pansy suddenly gasped. "the abandoned classrooms near the dungeons! she used to go there all the time to study in peace."

the group nodded in agreement, a renewed sense of purpose guiding their steps. as they approached the secluded classrooms, faint strains of a soft melody reached their ears.

"is that... christmas music?" enzo asked, surprised.

they cautiously entered the room, and there you were, surrounded by the christmas decorations you had taken with you. a small enchanted music box played a comforting tune, and you turned around, a mix of surprise and relief in your eyes.

"hey, guys," you greeted, a weak smile playing on your lips.

"what's going on, y/n?" draco asked, concern etched on his face.

you took a deep breath. "i'm sorry for worrying you all. i found out this morning that my grandma was unwell, and I needed a moment to process it. but she's better now."

relief washed over the group, and mattheo stepped forward, offering a comforting hug. "we were so worried about you."

pansy smiled. "we thought you were kidnapped or something."

You chuckled, wiping away a stray tear. "no, just needed some time to clear my head."

blaise, always the joker, conjured a small bouquet of flowers. "for grandma chrissie" he smiled "please let her know i'm thinking of her and wishing for her to get well soon"

you accepted them with gratitude, smiling about the fact that blaise was still an absolute fan of your grandma.

"how about some cheering up?" draco suggested

the group gathered the scattered decorations, and together you all returned to the slytherin common room. the atmosphere shifted from worry to warmth as the group cooperated to deck the common room with festive trimmings.

in the glow of the enchanted candles and the laughter of friends, the christmas spirit returned. the slytherins rallied around you, playing games and sharing stories late into the night. and that night you were reminded that no matter what, you could always rely on your friends.

taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @taygrls @athenalikethegoddess @helpimhopelesslyinlove @prettyb1tchsblog @anonnreader777 @unluckyy @novelizt @ahead-fullofdreams @claradelage

[alloftheimaginesblog]

happy new year {peter parker}

part one here

plot: after your ex peter leaves you a card on christmas, you go visit him.

character: peter parker x female character

note: i love emotional, touch starved peter parker

It had been almost a week since Peter had left the card on your fire escape and you'd not reached out in any way shape or form despite Peter's hopes and wishes. He took that as the final nail in the coffin. You had completely moved on so it was time he did too.

He had just finished his second patrol of the day and was coming back to Aunt May's for some lunch when his enhanced hearing could hear muffled voices and laughter coming from Aunt May's home. Someone else was here. Peter frowned. Aunt May hadn't mentioned anyone else coming over today. He shrugged it off, maybe just a neighbour coming to wish her a happy new year.

He pulled the mask off, shoving it into his hoodie's pocket - he liked doing his patrols with a hoodie and sweatpants over it to keep the winter chill of New York away - and opened the door. The voices were louder but still muffled, he couldn't tell who it was.

He dropped his backpack by the door and walked into the kitchen where the voices were coming from. Peter was expecting a neighbour - Mr Jenkins or Anita from across the street - he certainly hadn't been expecting the person who was sitting across the kitchen table from Aunt May.

It was you.

Everything seemed to stop, time slowed right down and all Peter could do was stare at you with an expression with resembled that of seeing a ghost. He was acutely aware of his heartbeat, hammering loudly in his chest, ears ringing as your head rose to look at him. Your smile faltered for the briefest of moments as Aunt May stood, re-introducing the two of you after all this time. Your lips moved but he couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears.

It took a solid ten seconds for Peter to come back to reality. He opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again. He hadn't prepared for this. He wasn't prepared to encounter you again. He thought that this chapter was done, closed and finished... But you were standing in his Aunt's kitchen.

"Hey, Peter," you said gently. God, he wanted to fall to his knees with the way you said his name. One word, two syllables and he would've killed for you if you asked him to.

Aunt May saw his surprise and half stepped in front of you, almost shielding him from you so that he could regain some form of composure, "(y/n) wasn't sure where your new apartment was, Peter, so she came here. She brought some delicious scones as a new year's gift." Her eyes were aglow with excitement, she had hoped the two of you would find your way back to each other and maybe this was that connection finally happening like it should've stayed.

"Uh," Peter nodded to his Aunt May, silently telling her that was he was okay and she moved out of the way. Peter took a deep breath. You looked perfect. He'd seen you a week ago, Christmas Eve, but right now it was like he was seeing you for the first time. Your hair was loose and bouncy, your cheeks slightly rosy from the winter chill, your eyes wide and smiling at him with a slightly unsure expression, "Hi." All it took was that one word and he saw you visibly relax, saw your shoulders fall and saw a flash of relief on your face.

Aunt May quickly thought of an excuse to leave and left the two of you in the kitchen with so much tension hanging in the air between the two of you, "How-"

"I'm sorry-" you blurted out.

Peter frowned, "What?"

"- for just showing up. I-I went to your apartment - your old apartment - the woman that lives there didn't have a forwarding address for you and she wasn't all very pleasant at all-" Peter smiled slightly at your nervous rambling, "-and I knew where Aunt May lived and I had to talk to you so I just came here. I didn't think to call because- I don't actually know. I-"

"Hey," his voice was so soft and gentle, "it's fine." There was a moment's pause and he continued, "I moved about six months ago. Needed a change." The apartment was full of the ghost of you. "Few blocks away from my old apartment. Nicer. Rent is horrendous though." This made you crack a smile.

Again, silence fell. It was awkward. You had come here prepared to tell him what you needed to tell him and now, standing in front of him... you were too scared. He looked good. Tired but good. He had grown his beard out which was nice, you always loved him with a beard. It suited him. His chocolate eyes were just as warm but there was a sadness surrounding him again, like when you first met him.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" He asked quietly.

You nodded immediately, "Sounds good."

The snow fell slowly, floating down to the ground as you and Peter walked. Neither of you spoke but it was a little more comfortable being out in the open with the sounds of New York around the two of you.

Anxiously, your fingernails dug into your skin. Just tell him, (y/n). You came all this way to chicken out?! You took a breath but Peter beat you to the chase.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped by coming to your apartment," he said sincerely, "I-I know that's why you're here so scream at me if you want, I just... I deserve it." You frowned, confused, "Aunt May had told me she bumped into you and you were with someone and you were happy... I... I got jealous but I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Pete," you said with a shake of the head, "I mean, yeah, you overstepped the mark. It was completely and wildly inappropriate and almost kind of creepy?" You took a second to pick your words, "But you made me kind of snap out of the auto pilot mode I was in."

It was Peter's turn to be confused.

"Jasper... He was great. He's someone Rachel set me up with a few months ago and yeah, he was fun but..." He wasn't you, "it wasn't going to work out. We wanted different things."

You cleared your throat, refusing to look at him and instead looked away from him watching the snow fall, "Wait... you broke up?" You nodded, again not looking at Peter. Embers of hope began to burn a little brighter in his stomach, "Oh."

"He knew about you, you know," you said quietly and had Peter not had enhanced hearing he wouldn't have heard your next few sentences, "He knew he had no chance competing against you even though you weren't trying until last week. He knew that I still loved you."

Peter's face softened and he slowed down with you. He stretched his hand out to take yours but hesitated and his hand fell. For a moment, the two of you stood - you with your back turned and Peter with the most forlorn expression.

"I really tried to get over you, Pete. I really tried." You sniffed, wiping tears away before they could fall. You turned to him, seeing his own eyes welling with tears, "It wasn't your fault, Peter."

His head fell back onto his shoulders as he closed his eyes, tears mixing with wet snow as he exhaled a long breath. For over a year, he harboured the guilt of your accident. It was because of him; who he was. You got hurt and he hated himself for it.

Your hands clasped his cheeks and Peter gasped. He was so touch starved, he hadn't realised that another person hadn't touched him besides Aunt May in a year. You pulled his head away from the sky to look down at you, "You hear me?" You were crying, "What happened to me, it wasn't your fault. I don't blame you, Peter, I never have and I'm so sorry that I couldn't help you last year. I'm so sorry you've held onto this all this time."

He opened his eyes, staring at you again for what felt like the first time, "I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"I know that," you let out a sob, "Peter, everything you've ever done is to protect me! Had it not been for you, I would've died. You webbed my wounds and took me hospital immediately, you saved me."

"But-"

"You saved me, Peter. None of it was your fault. I do not blame you. Please, please stop blaming yourself."

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, pulling him down so you could plant the kiss on him. Then one on his wet nose. Despite the cold, Peter's body was on fire at your touch. This was what he'd been craving for a full year. You.

"You better stop," his voice was thick, "cause if you let me kiss you, I'm never gonna let you go again."

You smiled widely, pressing your foreheads together, "I'm not gonna leave again so by all means..."

He didn't need to be told twice. His lips were on yours in a flash, hot and cold, melding together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He still tasted the same; chocolate, coffee and peppermint. His hands pulled you in, not hesitant anymore but confident and knowing. He pulled you flush against him as he kissed you, a hand weaving into your hair as the other wrapped around your back. God you missed him. And for a moment, just for a moment, everything in the world was good and everything was right.

What a way to start the year.

[allbark-no-bite]

december and devotion.

jake seresin x reader (wc. 1.4k)

summary: Jake keeps his promise. or the fic where Jake comes home just in time for Christmas

warnings: none, just fluff

author’s note: just a little short and sweet reunion for you guys before christmas. this can totally be read alone from ‘Marriage and Honor’ but it makes this fic that much better if you read the other one before :)

(read parts one and three here: marriage and honor, cats and christmas)

————————————————————————

You get Jake back exactly eleven months to the day that he deployed. Eleven months since you dropped him off on the carrier and hugged him goodbye. Eleven months since you fell in love and then had to let it go on the same day. Eleven excruciating months of endless emails and long phone calls at any and all hours of the night. 

It didn't matter if it was four am or four pm, you were just happy to hear his voice. It meant that he was conscious and breathing and that meant he was alive. Sometimes the two of you would schedule a time to call when Jake knew he would have a few minutes to spare, and when the call didn't come you would just sit by the phone and wait for hours. You knew that things happened and sometimes Jake just got busy. But that was the thing, things did happen, and so far you were 2-0 for those things playing out in your favor. 

When he did get caught up, Jake was always sure to call you back, even if it was hours later, and he'd poke fun at you for working yourself up so much. 'C'mon baby, it was just a little air strike. Nothing for you to worry about,' he'd tease, both of you choosing to ignore the apprehension in his voice in favor of finding humor in the moment because that meant getting to murmur 'I miss you's and 'I miss you too's for just the few extra seconds that the call allowed. 

The holidays rolling around makes Jake's deployment even more lonely. Despite being much closer to home now that you're living on base, you don't have much family left and Thanksgiving ends up consisting of you and the orange cat that you've still yet to tell Jake about. You're not sure he's going to believe you accidentally adopted a cat, the cat that now sleeps on Jake's side of the bed every night. 

Regardless, having another body in the house makes things a little more bearable as Thanksgiving comes and goes and soon enough it's Christmas time on base. Just when you were starting to think that Jake's deployment was going by quicker than you thought, December hits and the days start crawling by. 

Thankfully for you, Christmas comes early.

December 24th.

Is the text you receive from Jake bright and early one random Monday morning. You hadn't been expecting to hear from him for another few days, and when you see his name pop up on your screen, your stomach drops. But as soon as you read his message, you know exactly what it means. 

Jake was coming home for Christmas. 

The port is more crowded and even colder than what you expected it to be at six am on Christmas Eve. It's full of families and children bundled in various layers of scarves and coats, holding signs and cards, anxiously waiting to welcome their service member back home. The atmosphere is incomparable to anything that you've ever experienced. It's full of hope, and happiness, and maybe even a little heartbreak.

You’re feeling a little bit of all three yourself. It's been in the back of your mind that despite having had two brothers in the Navy, you've never gotten to do this. You've never gotten the chance to welcome anyone back home. 

The sound of a horn blowing pulls you from your thoughts. 

Shouts of celebration erupt and children break out into runs, screaming with excitement, and you watch as soldiers begin pouring out from the entrance of the ship, a sea of white amidst the crowd. You linger behind as families around you reunite, feeling a bit lost having come by yourself. You watch as returning fathers gleefully scoop up their children and proud fathers tearily welcome home their daughters. 

Walking a bit closer to the ship, you glance around you in hopes of spotting a familiar face. You catch sight of Javy and his family a bit off to your right, and he waves to you with a quick smile but offers no indication of where Jake might be. You walk a little further, passing almost every member of the Dagger squad, until you finally come to a stop back in the middle of the crowd. With so many people all around you, you begin to wonder how you're ever going to find Jake.

"Looking for someone?"

It's the same voice that you've been straining to hear over some crappy military base service line for months. Only this time it's ten feet away and not across the world. 

You spin on your heels, bolting into Jake's arms quicker than you've probably ever moved in your entire life. You don't even take the time to take him in before you're burrowing your face into the crook of his neck, your body clinging to his like he's going to disappear at any given second. Jake has to drop his bag to catch you, wrapping both arms around your waist and shuffling backwards a few steps so that he doesn't lose his balance. His skin is warm despite the chill outside and you revel in the press of his cheek to your own, your cold nose nuzzled into his ear.

Jake holds you for god knows how long, his body swaying occasionally with yours in the embrace. Eventually you loosen your grip around his neck, as much as it pains you to do so, but you want to see his face so you pull away, your hand moving to either side of his face to get a good look at him.

Jake's green eyes shine at you in what you can only describe as pure adoration. He looks a bit tired, maybe even a bit older than he did when he left, but he's still the Jake you said goodbye to all those months ago. The lines by his eyes still crinkle when he smiles and his cheeks dimple right along with them. 

Jake says nothing as you examine him, just smiles at you warmly and allows you this moment to yourself. He'll have plenty of time to kiss you later.

His hair is much shorter than what you're used to, almost certainly to adhere to military regulations, and your fingers scratch at his scalp in a moment of wistful melancholy. "Your hair," is all you can say, fond tears threatening to spill over your eyes. 

A laugh rumbles from his chest and his eyes crinkle as he takes your hand in his own. "It's gonna grow back in no time, baby. I promise." 

You're not genuinely sad about his hair and he knows this, it's just that there so much to say after eleven months of being apart and not enough time in the moment to say it. 

So instead of trying to find the words, Jake just squeezes your body against his once more before setting you down to grab his duffle bag. He keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, the other bearing the load of his over stuffed duffle. As happy as he is to has his girl back in his arms, all he wants is to go home and have you to himself. And maybe get some sleep. "C'mon, kid. Let's get you home. It's too cold for you to be standin' out here."

Only when he starts walking away, you don't budge. Your feet are planted into the ground and he ends up a few steps ahead of you once he looks back. Jake turns around, duffle bag in one hand and the other held out to you in question. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now. I've only been back for about five minutes," he laughs. He's mostly teasing, but you pick up on the faintest hint of hesitation in his voice. 

You cross your arms, trying to keep yourself from smiling. "You're forgetting something."

A look of confusion crosses his face before his brows lift and his smile returns. Chuckling, Jake drops his duffle and walks back towards you, taking your face inbetween his hands like you had held his a few moments ago. He can't help the massive grin on his face as he leans into kiss you. 

Your cheeks are flushed and cold but they heat right back up as his mouth captures yours. His lips are soft against yours but the kiss is firm and sure—tender but packed with all of the longing that cannot be expressed with words. You immediately miss the warmth of Jake's lips when he pulls away.

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs, so close that he may as well have been speaking it into the kiss. 

"Merry Christmas," you murmur back, smiling back against his mouth as you lean in to kiss him again.

[octuscle]

ho

Ho? Ho ho ho? Already! Damn, the infidels are your pain in the ass… First Halloween, then Thanksgiving, and now it's Christmas. Your perpetually stoned and drunk roommate is constantly listening to remixes of Christmas classics, drinking eggnog and hanging up the colorful lights his mom sent him along with gingerbread and Christmas cookies. You swear the next time you hear "Last Christmas", you'll run amok. Somehow everyone here expects that from a Muslim like you anyway. Especially during Advent.

All you want is to finish your degree as quickly as possible and get back home to Egypt. With a computer science degree from the USA, you're king there. And finally far away from the infidels again. And thank Allah you don't make half as much fuss about Eid as the infidels here do about Christmas.

"All I want for Christmas is you…" Shit, are you already humming along to the music? No wonder, it's the purest brainwashing. But the music isn't bad. And be honest: you had a Christmas tree at home in Minnesota in December. Your parents emigrated to the USA 20 years before you were born. Of course you are circumcised. But you're basically a corn-fed guy from the Midwest.

Damn, your mom's cinnamon stars are the best cookies of all. The recipe is still from your great-grandmother from Swabia. Old family tradition. Even your father couldn't resist it. Perhaps you inherited the black hair and brown eyes from his ancestors in Egypt. But basically, you grew up in the traditions that your mother's family brought to the farm from Germany generations ago.

What you hate about Christmas is writing Christmas cards. But your family expects it. Your father's parents in particular, who once again can't come for Christmas and will be celebrating far away in Malmö, would be very unhappy if they didn't receive a card. You make every effort to write in correct Swedish. Speaking is admittedly better. It was cool to grow up as a blond boy trilingual in German, Swedish and English. They always called you "The Hun" or "The Viking" in football. Who cares, your qualities as a linebacker got you the scholarship after all.

Ho! You can hear your stupid, musky-smelling, muscle-bound roommate outside in the hallway. He's on the wrestling team. Not really in your league. But he sucks damn well. The door opens. You're prepared. Or rather, decorated.

"Ho ho ho, Dasher! I've hidden a present for you!" Your roommate gets down on one knee without hesitation. You love the Christmas season!

Xmas decoration found @swoleisthegoal

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The dad who stepped up; John Wick x oc teen

*Author's note*

Okay so this is the first update in what feels like forever. Now that I'm on winter break and away from home I can start to feel the creative juices flowing. I might also post up some other stuff that I've had saved but didn't feel confident in posting before as some christmas gifts for you all.

But this oneshot (possibly might turn this into a series but only AFTER I've seen all the John Wick films. I've seen bits and pieces on youtube but never all the way through *dodges flying objects*) So just to put in prespective this is a prologue before the first film. Like the five years John has once he retires. But I wanna see how all of you like this and if anyone wants to see this turned into a series, give me a shoutout below and comment whether you wish to be tagged or not.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, parental abandonment, cancer mentioned.

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@waddles03

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@remussl0vers

@queensdivas

_______________________________________________________

If you think being a teenage girl is bad enough, try being the teenage daughter of the infamous Baba Yaga.  Well not blood related but I’ve known John Wick for most of my pre-teen/teenage life.  He was a wild card I never expected coming into mine or my mother’s life, hell men like him only exist in my mom’s Fabio romance novels. 

Even though I would later in life learn of who he truly was, I still can’t help but think back to the days when he first came into our lives.

Age 11

It all started when I had came back from my first summer at Camp Walden.  I had learned about this camp from my best friend and I pleaded with my mom for me to go.  At first she acted like she wasn’t even going to allow me to go but then on the last day of school, she had surprised me with an application of approval and a plane ticket for me to go to Camp Walden.

I spent eight weeks at the all-girls camp learning how to fence, canoe, all the typical fun camp stuff.  Made some new friends and would write letters to my mom every single night (as per her conditions since there wasn’t any cell service up there).

I got off the plane with all my bags and looked around the gate until I caught sight of my mom.  She held out a welcome home sign and when she found me from the load of passengers, she and I raced up to each other and hugged each other tightly.  She picked me up rocking me back and forth kissing me repeatedly.

“Oh I hope you had a lousy time at that camp because I am never sending you there again, I missed you too much!”

“I missed you too mom.”

“Wait did you…..you got your haircut?” when I had went I had pretty long hair and now I come back from camp with my hair up to my shoulders.

“Yeah when we were playing truth or dare, a girl was dared to cut someone’s hair and since I had the longest I was the victim. Luckily for me her mom’s a stylist and she learned from her. Are you mad?”

“I would be but she did something I’ve never been able to make you do since you were little.” We both laughed as she held me close to her again and we began to leave the airport.

“So mom how’s your summer been?”

“Oh the typical single mom empty nester. Watching trash tv and drinking mimosas.” I shook my head at her.  “But I wanna hear more about camp. Eight weeks of not hearing your voice is way too long for me.”

“Yeah it was a lot for me too mom. But it was a lot of fun. I got some pics of some foxes that came by the camp.”

“Ohhh exciting. I know you’ll be adding those to your collection my little fox kit.”

“Yeah. And canoeing is much more difficult than they make it seem on TV. We got tipped over like five times and we didn’t even leave the docks.”

“Awww man, I’m sorry baby.” We threw my stuff into the trunk and I rode in the passenger seat while mom drove us out of the airport parking lot and we headed for home.  “Oh by the way your aunt Chessy just had to be here to see you come home so expect to be smothered by her.”

“Did she bring Sammy?” I asked excitedly.

“You know your aunt. Never leaves home without that dog of hers.” I clapped my hands excitedly.

“Also baby I have surprise to tell you once you get settled in.”

“A surprise? What is it?”

“It’s a surprise and like I said I want you to get settled in first before I tell you what it is. It’s tiring flying from coast to coast non-stop so I want you to take as much time as you need to get settled.” I let out a groan as I sat back in the seat.  When you’re a kid and you hear the word ‘surprise’ you never want to wait for it.  But grownups just love to do that to you.

Before long we finally arrived at the house and mom put the car in park in the driveway and turned the engine off.  I stepped out of the car and looked at my house in relief.  The door was left wide open and I immediately heard barking as Sammy, my aunt’s golden retriever raced out and came over to me.

“Sammy!” he came up and sat down allowing me to hug and kiss him.

“Oh now this fully grown woman can’t be my little Sarah can it!?” I heard aunt Chessy’s voice say as she came out.  I let go of Sammy and ran up to her and she too picked me up just like mom did at the airport.  Spinning me around and rocking me back and forth.  “Oh welcome home baby girl. We missed you soo much! Hey,” she separated our hug and took both my arms in her hands as she continued, “Don’t you dare convince your mom to send you that way again for far too long. You’re lucky I soil you too much otherwise I wouldn’t have extended my stay.”

“I love you too aunt Chessy. Camp was fun but there’s truly no place like home.”

“Amen to that sister. You’re just in time I made cornbread and chili your favorite.”

“Did I just hear cornbread and chili?” mom perked up as she carried my bags over her shoulder.

“Yeah it’s on the stove but Sarah gets the first bowl. And Helen don’t carry all that weight, that’s what I’m here for.” Aunt Chessy grabbed my bags while mom briefly gave her a glare but aunt Chessy gave her a look back.  “C’mon kid, let’s get you inside and well fed.” As we walked back inside with Sammy sticking to mom’s side whimpering and licking her hand, that’s when I began to notice the black mustang also parked in our driveway.

I sat down at my balcony bed while aunt Chessy began unpacking my bags.  I had my bowl of chili with the cornbread inside of it in my lap and I said.

“Hey aunt Chessy, how’d you afford a mustang from the rental car place?”

“Oh I wish I could afford one in real life. But that car doesn’t belong to me.”

“So what did mom get it or something?” I asked.  That’s when we heard my mom giggling.  I turned and looked outside and saw her with a man right out by the pool.  The man was sitting on one of the pool chairs and I could see he had pure black hair, wore sunglasses and a dark t-shirt.  “Who is he?”

“Sarah it’s none of my business how my big sister ruins her life she’s a big girl.” Aunt Chessy said as she began taking out all my dirty clothes.  I set my bowl of chili aside and went up to her and said as I wrapped my arms around her right one.

“C’mon aunt Chessy I need to know. Who is he?” aunt Chessy let out a deep sigh and turned to me.

“His name is John Wick. Your mom met him at the gas station when she accidentally forgot to grab her wallet to pay for gas. If you ask me I think he wanted something a bit more than just to be a good Samaritan.”

“What do you mean?” this time we could hear a splash by the pool and mom’s laughter before it turned to shrieks and then back to laughter again.  Aunt Chessy let out a groan as she rolled her eyes.  I went to grab my camera while Aunt Chessy continued on her rant.

“Look you know how I’ve felt about men especially after your father left you guys. So I gotta ask myself what does a man like that who belongs in a Fabio romance novel want with a woman who is trying to work out her life as a single mom? Then I realize there’s a million reasons why that man has stuck around, and all of it is just waiting to be spent from the New York bank.” As she talked I stood there with my camera to see both my mom and John in the pool together at first playing like little kids before being wrapped in each other’s arms.

“What you think he’s loaded or something?” I asked.

“Ehh what do I know? But I’ll tell you one thing, this man’s got your mother eating out of the palm of his hand. They do everything together, they go on drives in that car of his, they swim together, they go out to eat dinner every single night. But you know what, meet him. See for yourself, don’t let me influence you.”

 I saw them making goo-goo eyes at each other before kissing each other as they remained in the pool.  I snapped a quick picture of them and felt an odd feeling in my stomach as I looked down at them.  Could he be the surprise that mom was talking about?

After I had my lunch and aunt Chessy was now doing my laundry, I got on my bathing suit and put on a Shadow the hedgehog t-shirt over it along with some old sandals.  I grabbed my sunglasses and decided to head out to the pool. 

There I saw John once again sitting on the pool chair with my mom just coming out of the pool and grabbing a towel.

“Ohh Sarah, didn’t expect you to come down so soon.”

“Figured I’d stretch my legs out in the pool. At least this time I won’t have algae or wet sand between my toes.” I said wiggling my toes as I kicked my sandals off my feet.

“Well since you’re here I guess there’s no time like the present ehh? Sarah, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” She came up behind me and walked us closer to John.  “Sarah, this is John Wick.”

He removed his sunglasses and I finally got a better look at his face.  A sharp facial structure and a scruff beard that had some hidden grey to it.  Deep brown eyes that pierced through my very soul and almost sent a chill of fear up my spine.

“Hello.” His voice had a slight ruggedness to it but it also had warmth and friendliness to it.  Not like how when someone who has a rasp to their voice it makes them creepy.

“Hi, Mr. Wick.” I greeted shyly as I placed my sunglasses on top of my head.

“Well I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the famous Sarah. I’ve been looking forward to this all summer.” John said as he adjusted himself to sit up properly and get a better look at me.

“Really well here I am.” I said with a shrug.

“Helen, you’ve been holding out on me. The way your mom has talked about you I expected to meet a little girl but you are so grown up and just as beautiful as her.”

“I’ll be 12 soon. How old are you?”

“Sarah!” exclaimed my mom as tugged me by my shoulders.

“It’s fine Helen. There should actually be no shame in children asking adults their ages.” John assured my mom.  “To answer your question I’m 43.”

“That’s 32 years older than me! How old are you again mom.” I asked looking up at her.

“Wow if only you were this interested in math when it comes to your homework. Look I’m going to head inside and get some food. Maybe even check to make sure Chessy is doing the laundry correctly. I love my little sister but sometimes she can be a scatter brain when it comes to laundry. Be right back.” With that mom left me alone with her new ‘boyfriend’.

“My aunt said that you guys met at a gas station, is that true?”

“Yes that is true. I don’t know the full story but from what I did see, the cashier was giving your mother a pretty hard time so I thought I’d give her a hand and help pay for her gas. And not three days later at the Walmart nearby she actually helped me with finding the better laundry detergent. From there I guess you could say the rest is history.”

“How come my mom didn’t mention you in the letters she’d send me?” John let out a deep sigh and looked at me with a sympathetic look.

“I imagine this is pretty awkward, right?” I merely shrugged as I crossed my arms over my chest.  “Your mom felt that this type of news would’ve been better to be talked about in person. But I want you to know this Sarah, these past eight weeks I’ve really come to care for your mother. And I wish I can do the same for you, but if not I’ll understand and I’ll walk away.”

Now this is something I’ve never heard of happening in real life.  Normally the partner wouldn’t allow their lover’s child to dictate whether or not they’ll stay together.  But just from seeing mom and him together, that’s the happiest I’ve seen her since……him.

Needless to say (and as you all know) John Wick stuck around with my mother.  They waited to get married until a year into their blossoming relationship.  And it was also after their marriage that mom and I would leave our home of Nappa, California and go to live with John in his house in New York.

It was out in upstate New York so just roughly about a 20-30min drive away from the city.  It was fairly similar in size to our old house back home with wide open spaces, a good sized backyard, and a two door garage. 

Ever since they got married, mom’s always tried to have John and I do some ‘father-daughter’ bonding time.  And even though John did his best to understand my interests whether it came to gaming, music, or movie trivia, there was just something about being alone with him that didn’t sit right with me.  I already got fooled once by my dad once, I wasn’t going to let another one do the same thing to me again.

Age 13

I was sitting in the passenger seat of John’s mustang as we drove into the city to pick up some groceries.  Mom had to suddenly be called into work with an emergency and John said he didn’t want to leave me alone in the house by myself.

After a brief back and forth with each other of how whether or not I was capable of staying at the home by myself, I ended up losing that battle and had to tag along.  As we walked through the aisles picking out everything we needed, my eye soon caught a bunch of people at a table advertising something.

I noticed their posters for the Gotham Archery classes.  And there happened to be one right nearby in Manhattan.  I turned to John to see him looking at some deals on eggs then turned my attention back towards the table.  Archery did always fascinate me but there was never any schools or lessons back at California that were within driving range of us so I could only fantasize about shooting an actual bow and arrow like Legolas or Merida did.

“You want to go talk to them?” I jumped at John’s voice and looked up at him.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at them for the past five minutes without even blinking. So either you’ve got some beef with one of those gentleman or you’d like to go talk to them and think about joining them.”

“Yeah that’s funny. Me doing archery.” I scoffed as I brushed it off with a laugh.

“What’s so funny about that?” he leaned his arms over the shopping cart as he raised his brow at me.  One look at his eyes and I knew he wasn’t kidding around.

“You—you’re being serious?”

“If it’s something you’re interested in, you should go for it.” A strange fluttery feeling came into my chest when he said that.  Dad never really took the time to encourage me to go out for something, it was always mom who tried to push me to achieve what I want.  So hearing this from an adult male, especially someone like John Wick felt strange and new to me.

I took a deep breath and walked over to the table and it was there I began my journey into the world of archery.

After bringing John over to the table so that he could get some of the information too (since I was under 18 I needed to have an adult present for the information given and to ensure that there would be an adult present whenever I was taken to classes).

We had a meeting that night with my mom and she was so proud that I had managed to find something to do here in New York.  And already having John be the chosen supervised parent to go along with me also made her happy to know that we finally managed to find something to bond over.

After several months of lessons, I actually ended up doing a lot better at archery than I could imagine.  So much so that my instructor encouraged me to participate in the upcoming tournament that would be held at their school in Brooklyn.

Mom, aunt Chessy and John all came to support me in the tournament but when I began to see the large crowd that was gathering around to see all of us that was competing, my heart began to race and my stomach began churning.

“Full house, oh sweet Jesus.” I groaned as I held my stomach tightly.  I fiddled with my archer’s glove unhooking and re-hooking the straps as my anxiety was starting to go through the roof.

“And here we have future gold medalist Olympic archer Sarah Wick.” I shook my head trying to hide the smile etching at the corner of my mouth and looked up to see John with his phone pointed right towards me.

“Haha you’re such a comedian.” I mocked sarcastically.

“No joke. Those archers don’t know who they’re about to go against.” I winced slightly as I looked down and fiddled with my glove once again.  “Hey, everything okay?” he asked concerningly.  He pocketed his phone and sat down in front of me.

Could I maybe trick him into taking me home? Mom never fell for the classic ‘fake sickness’ trick whenever I needed to get out of something.  Guess that’s just something mom’s automatically know, but John—he wouldn’t know and I’ll bet he wouldn’t even ask questions about it.

“I’m not feeling so good John. I think I need to go home and lay down. Yeah that’s it let’s go home.” I went to sit up but he held onto my shoulder and pressed his other hand to my forehead.

“You don’t seem to be running a fever.”

“It’s a stomach bug. Suddenly started up out of nowhere.” I let out a pained hiss as I groaned lowly.  When I looked up at him, one look on his face told me that he wasn’t buying this act for a second.  “This isn’t working is it?”

“It was a good try.” He acknowledged giving me a wink.  I dropped the act as I let out a deep sigh.

“How do you guys always seem to know when we’re faking it?”

“I may have only been in the parenting game for a short time, but I know how to spot the classic ‘feigning sick bit’. Even pulled it myself from time to time. Now you wanna share what’s really going on?”

I don’t even know myself why I suddenly felt like coming clean to him.  Whether it was him not talking down to me in order to get the answer, or him even acknowledging that I did my best to fake him out.  Either way I finally came clean to him.

“I didn’t think there was going to be so many people here to see us compete. It’s stressing enough with the judges, but the people in the audience……I’m just—so afraid that I’m gonna make a total fool of myself.” John let out a soft hum as he nodded softly.

“I believe what you’re going through right now is what they call stage fright. Everyone gets it, even me.”

“You? I don’t believe you.”

“Oh yeah. Believe it or not this 45 year old, 6’1 giant of a man has and still sometimes deals with anxiety and stage fright.” We both softly chuckled at his statement.

“How do you get by?”

“One step at a time. I can only control what I can. And yes there will be the unknown that you wish you could say ‘hey I want you to do this’ or ‘you’re gonna do it this way’. But we can’t let the fear dictate over something we love.”

“Wow…..that’s—deep.”

“I try my best.” John merely shrugged, which got another laugh out of me.  “And think of it this way; after today: No one but your mother, aunt, instructor and I will remember what you did here today. So don’t do your best for those nameless people out in the audience, do it for the ones that really know you.”

“Thanks John. That really helped more than you know.” He gently squeezed my shoulder and said.

“Glad I could help. And good luck out there.” He stood up and walked back to join my mom and aunt at their seats.

Whenever mom gave me advise or encouragement while she always looked on the positive aspects of it, just between the lines I knew there were times that she would sugarcoat certain things.  Like there was too much optimism in certain events that I knew wouldn’t be good but she’d always make it seem like everything was going to be okay.

John, however, just hearing him speak about the reality of the situation but not making it sound too cynical.  He somehow managed to find the perfect balance of optimism and realistic philosophy.

And it paid off.  By the end of the tournament I had gotten three bronze medals and a silver medal for all the categories I had decided to compete in.

As the years went by, there would also come a test that would push the Wick family to the extreme.  When I turned 14, my mom was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor.  There would be days when she was able to live with us and live a normal life, but there were dark days when she’d have to live in the hospital for weeks on end.

Age 15

This was one of mom’s bad weeks.  One day when John and her were out on their wedding anniversary date out in the city.  I had gotten a call from John telling me that she had collapsed when they were walking along the docks after their dinner.

However unlike before, this time the tumor had attacked her so aggressively that she now has to be on a ventilator to help her breathe properly.  The doctor’s say that even though there’s brain activity, she’s unfortunately locked in a coma-like state and it’s unknown on when she’ll wake up…..or ever.

It was also throughout this time that John and I began to lean more on each other now more than ever.  Especially when he came back into the picture out of nowhere.

It was just after school when John and I decided to visit mom in the hospital.  I had gotten my German test that he had helped me study for and I wanted to tell mom how I had aced it.  She always wanted to make sure that I never fell back on my class work no matter what events or after-school activities I had.  We arrived at the hospital parking lot and as we got out of John’s mustang, I asked him.

“Before long I’ll have to start driving, think I can practice driving the mustang?”

“Just because you passed your German exam doesn’t make you an expert on my mustang.” He told me.

“Oh come on John. I’ve been paying attention to how you shift the gears and I dare say I’m confident enough to drive it.”

“There’s a difference between confidence and arrogance.”

“That hurts John. That really hurts!” I exclaimed as I held my heart like I had been shot.

“Yeah, yeah report it to Child services. Come on.” we headed into the building and checked in to see my mom.  We walked down the familiar corridor and saw mom in the same position as she has since her check in.  Laying still and motionless on the bed.  I came up and sat beside her and took her hand in mine.

“Hey mom, we’re back. Just like we promised. Hey get this, you know that German test that John’s been helping me with? I aced it. Can you believe it, after months of struggling I finally get an A+ for that class.”

“The real credit goes to your daughter Helen. She’s the one who took the test, all I did was teach her a few tricks to remember what she needed to learn.” Said John as he sat on the other side of my mom’s bed.  Soon my mom’s doctor came in and greeted us.

“Mr. Wick, Ms. Wick.”

“Dr. Sanchez. How has she been?” John asked.

“Well some good news at least. We’ve noticed how she’s been able to now breathe on her own so we took her off the ventilator and for the past ten hours she’s been breathing just fine on her own.” We both sighed in a huge relief.

“Any signs on when she’ll wake up?” I asked.

“That unfortunately is still yet to be determined. But we’ll continue to constantly monitor her progress and we’ll call you with any new updates Mr. Wick.” He said the last part to John since he was the emergency contact for my mom.

“Thank you Dr. Sanchez, truly.” He nodded and soon left the room leaving the three of us alone.  John took his spot back at my mom’s right side while I fiddled with the new bracelet that John had gifted them for their anniversary. “You were right about the bracelet.”

“Told yah. Mom’s never been one for clunky or flashy jewelry. And it really is beautiful.” I stroked along the silver flowers that decorated the bracelet. 

“I’m gonna head down and get some coffee, you want anything from the cafeteria?”

“I’ll be okay till we get home.”

“I’ll get you some water.”

“John!” I whined.

“You don’t drink enough of it, you gotta stay hydrated.” He said standing up and circled around mom’s bed before gently shaking my head around before leaving the room.  I shook my head and said.

“He really is a great guy mom. We’ve actually been getting along more lately since you had to stay here. He’s been taking me to school, archery practice, helping out with my homework. And been the support system I needed even though he’s hurting himself. He may not want to admit out loud, but I sometimes hear him cry at night without you there. So—keep fighting mom. Please, we need you home.”

I lay my head down on her bed as I gripped her hand in both of mine as tightly as I could.

“Helen? Sarah?” I gasped as my eyes shot wide open.  I turned towards the door and there I saw someone I never expected to see ever again.  My dad.

“D-d…..d…..” I stammered.

“My god, Sarah is that really you? God look at you you’re all….”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I snapped.  “How did you find us?!”

“I-I didn’t. My son’s here for his final chemo treatment.” His son? He went and had another kid after he abandoned me and mom? “So Helen’s got……”

“I don’t need to tell you shit!” I snapped. “Get out of here since that’s what you’re good at!”

“Sarah come on. It wasn’t my fault. I thought you were right behind me, honest!” bullshit.  He knew what he was doing that day, I’ve come to grips with it.  “That day at the mall…..”

“Don’t ever mention that day to me. I was so—so.......” my voice quivered as I tried to contain my emotions that were boiling inside of me after 8 years.

“Oh hey, hey. Don’t-don’t cry baby girl.” He tried to comfort me.  I heard his footsteps getting closer to me and once I saw his feet within my vision I pushed him back aggressively.  “Sarah!” my dad exclaimed in surprise.

“Get out.” I lowly sneered.

“Baby girl I’m trying to make things right with you.”

“Get out, get out, get out.” I kept muttering as my hand fidgeted at the door.

“Sarah I’m your father—” the second he stepped closer to me.  I lashed out with my best right hook and nailed in right across the face screaming at him.

“GET OUT!!!” I tackled him beating him with my fists.  Punching, clawing and slapping him repeatedly in a blind rage repeatedly telling him to get out through my grunts and growls.

I really don’t recall what all happened after that but I soon felt arms wrap around my waist trying to pull me away.  I tried fighting back but my arms were soon pinned to my side as I heard John’s voice suddenly break through my rage.

“Sarah enough! Easy! Easy!” I stopped and my vision became clear once again.  My dad’s face was bleeding profusely as nurses and security had now came to see what the commotion was.

John escorted me out but security tried to stop him.  There were words exchanged between the two of them before John took me out of the hospital.  All the while keeping a secure grip on me but not manhandling me.

Everything felt—numb.  The sounds of the city were muffled and I barely felt myself being moved around.  My hands wouldn’t stop shaking and my heart was pounding so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest.  Never before have I felt such rage to get me into that blind state and attack someone like that.

Next thing I knew, I suddenly felt a stinging sensation on my hand and I went to lash out but a hand stopped me and my vision suddenly became clear.  I found myself back at home with John kneeling in front of me, my wrist gently grasped in his calloused grip.

“Easy, easy. You’re home now Sarah.” Home.  Frantically my eyes looked around to see if it was true and I soon came to realize what had happened.  I was home, my real home.

Like a crack steadily increasing along a newly broken mirror, my shock suddenly began to overflow as tears rapidly fell down my face.  Immediately I wrapped my arms around John’s waist as I buried my face into his chest and wept hysterically.

“I’m sorry John….I’m so sorry John…..I-I didn’t want you to see…..” I spoke through my hysterical sobs.  John instantly wrapped his arms around me, one hand rubbing my back while the other was buried within my hair gently stroking and massaging my scalp.

“It’s okay, let it out. Just let yourself fall apart. I promise to hold you together.” He softly whispered into my ear.  The moment he had said that, I had let out the most gut-wrenching, raw, almost animalistic sob of rage, grief, self-hate, confusion, and sorrow that I had kept bottled in since the day my dad abandoned me.

And true to his word, John kept his tight yet comforting hold on me with each raw sob that came out of my mouth.

After what felt like an eternity and for doctoring up my bruised and bleeding knuckles and palm, I lay there in my room just fingering the bandaged wraps that John had placed over my wounds.  We didn’t speak after my breakdown but somehow he knew that I needed to have some alone time.

Slowly I got out of bed and headed towards mom and John’s room.  The door was shut so I went up and knocked so softly I thought he wouldn’t hear me.

“Come in.” I heard him say.  I opened the door and saw John laying across the bed.  “Hey Sarah. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Can…..we talk?” John nodded and allowed me to sit on mom’s side of the bed.  I pulled my legs up to my chest as I took mom’s pillow and held it over my knees.  The faint scent of her perfume still lingered onto the pillow.  “Did she ever tell you about him?”

“Your aunt made it clear that your father was a…..sensitive subject.” Of course she did.

“I was seven years old. We were out at the mall having our monthly daddy-daughter date. He took me out to red lobster to eat, and then took me to all my favorite stores. Next thing I know as I’m looking at some video games, he’s just gone. I called out for him in the crowded mall but I couldn’t find him anywhere. It was pure luck that a mall cop found me after 20 minutes. I was so frightened and confused…….” I sniffled and wiped away the tears that were burning in my eyes.  “Why did he just leave me like that? Was it something I did or said or—And to come back after supposedly living his new life…..”

“Hey, hey.” His large hand encompassed both of mine as I was clenching mom’s pillow so tightly my knuckles were turning white.  His touch alone made me relax even though I didn’t want to.  “He had no right to suddenly come up to you after all these years. And you are not to blame for him abandoning you.”

“Then why did he do it?” I asked brokenly.

“I wish I had an answer for you. But know that no excuse he can come up with will ever justify what he did.” he wrapped his arm around me, allowing my head to rest just over his heart once again.  I shut my eyes allowing a few tears to fall drip down my face.

“You’ve been nothing but supportive and loving to me these past few years. And I never thought I’d find myself saying this but I like you John. I really, really do like you. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to call you…... you know. It still hurts to even say the word out loud.”

“I understand. I never expected you to come forth and call me ‘that word’ as soon as your mom and I got married. I just wanted you to know that you’ve got another person in your corner whenever you feel like you can’t talk to your mom or aunt about something.”

“Thank you John, for everything.” We looked at each other lovingly and he brought me into a tight hug.

“And can I just say, that was an impressive right hook you gave him.” I laughed as I buried my face chest and gripped onto him tighter while I felt him place a loving kiss to the crown of my head.

One last thing I’ve noticed about John were his hugs.  There truly was a difference between the way my mom hugs and the way he hugs.  Mom’s hugs were always a gentle comfort like being wrapped in a fleece blanket.

John’s hugs—well his were like a protective barrier.  Like nothing in the world could get to me and he was going to ensure it with each tight, comforting squeeze he gave.  And while it felt like my bones could pop and break any second, it felt comforting to know that such strength could be so gentle when needed to be.

[fuck-customers]

Just because someone is a manager doesn't mean they're getting paid well.

I repeat.

Just because someone is a manager doesn't mean they're getting paid well.

I mentioned this in a previous submission and I'm finally getting around to venting about this because I'm losing my mind on both sides.

My state's minimum wage is $14 right now; it rose to that on Jan 1st. I'm a part time assistant manager for a retail store and my HOURLY wage is $14.50. Yeah, I'm getting paid 50¢ more than our part time sales associates. They're barely here meanwhile I'm expected to do all the added extra work expected of a manager for 50¢ more. Hell, the managers are the only ones who get hours here. I'm here most of the week, ALONE, helping customers and making sales and doing paperwork and handling money - all for an extra 50¢

When I got the promotion is when they fucked me over. At the time, minimum wage was $12 so they gave me a whole ass dollar raise for becoming a manager putting me at $13. When the state did a minimum wage raise to $13, guess what happened to my wage? I got that 50¢. I didn't fight it at the time because I didn't know if I would stick around, but the longer I was there it became harder to bring it up to my boss. Every chance I potentially had was ruined because some shit show always happened. Not to mention when my two fellow part time managers got a chance to question raises (they aren't getting paid any better) they would be turned down and then there'd be side comments from my boss about "people trying to ask for raises rn 🙄".

I finally got some hope back around Christmas because apparently our DM (who thankfully loves our store) noticed my wage was too low for my position. Apparently neither he or my boss knew or realized. So my DM going to try to get work out a raise...but I haven't heard shit about it since January...when the raise increased and my $13.50 became $14.50.

Why am I still here? I like the people believe it or not, but I'm getting more and more fed up with the situation

A lot of the people here are probably going to get pissy reading this because they see the word manager and immediately get mad. That's why I'm submitting this. Not all managers are living the good life. For fucks sakes one of the other part time managers just applied for a link card. Welcome to the cushy life of a part time manager I guess.

I just want to fucking die.

Posted by admin Rodney