#holiday property bond | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lewmagoo · 11 months ago

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try a little tenderness | rhett abbott

description: in which you take care of each other in different ways

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, slight angst, very brief mention of religious trauma, rhett's childhood trauma, smut, dom/sub undertones, rhett is a switch, mention of kink play, oral (m receiving), deep throating, cum swallowing

notes: just a self-indulgent little somethin'-somethin' with some holiday vibes to go along with it. hope y'all enjoy

You were barely holding it together.

The rain that poured from the dreary sky seemed to encapsulate your mood as you made your way home from work that evening. It was mid-November, and the weather was just beginning to make its shift into winter.

On your little homestead, you and your husband had been battening down the hatches, preparing the house and the surrounding property for the onslaught of frigid temperatures and snow storms that were sure to blow in over the next few weeks.

Wyoming winters were long and hard. But somehow, you didn’t mind them that much. Not when you had your little farmhouse to snuggle into on days when the weather got bad. You’d moved into the house when you and Rhett had first gotten married. Although it was a house that had been in your family for years, it was a fixer-upper, and everyone had told you that you were wasting your money. But the two of you were determined to make a home out of it. And you had. It was a safe haven for both of you.

And now, you were running to it, seeking refuge in its warmth, and in the comfort of your husband’s arms, because he was what made it a home.

They say home is where the heart is. He was your heart.

He was so much steadier than you were. At the moment, you felt incredibly fragile. As if a gust of cold wind would shatter you into millions of tiny pieces and leave Rhett to have to pick up those pieces and painstakingly glue you back together.

You’d been trying, but failing, to hold in your tears the entire thirty-minute drive home. You couldn’t even bring yourself to turn on your driving playlist to occupy the silence, you were simply too overwhelmed and needed the peace and quiet.

All you could think about was how deeply you longed to be in Rhett’s comforting embrace. He was the only one who could console you when you were like this. And he loved being that for you. Knowing he was your source of comfort above all others made him feel special. It made him feel needed.

It was him you depended on. Him you allowed to see you at your most vulnerable. He cherished those moments. Even though it pained him to see you suffering, it brought him some semblance of peace to know that he was providing you comfort.

He knew that things had been difficult for you as of late. You were at a crossroads in your life, forced to make some hard decisions that had been weighing heavily on you. You’d spent countless hours agonizing over them.

Sometimes, it felt as if your only easy choice in life had been choosing to marry Rhett. You’d known beyond a shadow of a doubt that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. He was good. He was kind. And he loved you. Did he come with his fair share of struggles? Absolutely. But that was what made him human. All the things he had been through had shaped him into the perfect man for you.

You had both gone through hell to get to each other. Your souls were bonded together, forged in the fires of great tribulation. But you were stronger together because of it.

You had built a life together. One of peace and security, far away from those who had wronged you. Rhett had distanced himself from his family. He only kept in contact with his mother and his niece.

Gone were the days of walking on eggshells, trying to avoid knock-down drag-out arguments with his brother. He didn’t have to use that sort of caution with you, because you never treated him that way. He’d learned how to communicate his feelings, rather than fight about them. There were never screaming matches within the walls of your home. Never a raised voice. Never a harmful hand laid upon the other.

It was a place of solace. And that was why you were running to it.

As you pulled into the driveway, the rain gave way as the first flakes of November snow began to swirl from the sky. Normally, you would stop to admire them, but you hardly even noticed the white flurries as you pulled into the carport next to the house.

Your eyes were blurring with hot tears, and all you wanted was to get inside, to find Rhett and fall into his arms. But as you climbed out of the car, the strap of your bag got caught on the gearshift. You didn’t notice until it was too late, and in a very dramatic turn of events, the force of the catch was enough to send you stumbling. On the way down, your ribs clashed with the bottom edge of your car, sending sharp pain blossoming through your torso.

You yelped, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathed through the ache. Meanwhile, Rhett was inside the house, having just seen the flash of your headlights in the window, signaling that you’d arrived home. Eagerly, he headed to the kitchen, with the intent of making dinner, because it was his night to do so. He was making grilled cheese, the one thing he had finally mastered in the kitchen, and he wanted it to be nice and hot for you, so he’d waited until that moment to begin preparing dinner.

But as he set to work, he noticed that it was taking you a while to come inside. Curious, he glanced out the window that overlooked the carport, and to his surprise, he saw you on the ground next to your car.

His jovial mood dissipated, replaced with concern. Without hesitation, he hurried to the door, where he shoved his feet into his worn, old boots and then wrenched the door open.

“Darlin’?” He called out, as he stepped outside, boots crunching on gravel. Quickly, he rounded your car, which gave him a full view of you crumpled on the ground, crying. Immediately, he was rushing to your aid. “What happened?! Are y’alright?”

He knelt beside you, wide-eyed, searching your body for any signs of outward harm. His protective instincts had kicked in.

“I-I fell,” you managed to whimper out. Honestly, it wasn’t even the fact that you’d fallen that kept you on the ground. It was the fact that you were entirely depleted of physical and emotional strength, and once you’d hit the ground, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand back up.

“Are ya hurt?” That was his biggest concern. He’d drive you to the hospital if he had to.

Your bottom lip wobbled as a fresh wave of tears poured down your weather-cooled cheeks. “A-a little,” came your response. You knew that your ribs were going to bruise.

“Hospital hurt?”

“No.”

Rhett nodded, relaxing a little. “Alright. I’ll help ya up. Let’s get inside where it’s warm.”

Lovingly, he helped you to your feet, securing his arm around your waist, and grabbing your bag from the car before he led you into the house. The warmth washed over you immediately. You hadn’t realized how cold you were, but the slight tingle in your fingertips told you that you had certainly gotten a chill from outside.

Rhett closed the door behind you, effectively shutting out the cold. You stood there in the entryway, unmoving as you felt another wave of tears overcome you. Your husband hadn’t noticed yet, as he was taking off his boots, but when he stood up, he saw you frozen in place.

“What’s the matter, pun’kin?” He asked. His pronunciation of pumpkin, the sweet nickname he’d given you years ago when you were still dating.

His gentle concern was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Immediately, you turned, surging forward into his arms. It caught him by surprise, but he quickly recovered, wrapping you up in his embrace. You melted into a fit of sobs, burying your face against his broad chest.

“Hey now, I’ve got’ya. Ain’t never gonna let you go.”

His assurance only made you cry harder. You loved him so much. He was so good to you.

His hand, large and warm, came up to cradle the back of your head, and he slowly rocked from side to side, soothing you with a quiet “shh” as he let you cry. He didn’t inundate you with questions, although he did want to know what had you weeping so brokenly in his arms. It made his heart ache.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there in the entryway. It could’ve been a few minutes. It could’ve been a whole hour. But the comfort his embrace brought you was welcome. It calmed you down considerably.

After a while, you finally pulled back, lifting your face from his now tear-soaked shirt. His expression was soft, his lashes fluttering as he lifted his hand to dry what was left of your tears.

“Somebody make you cry?” He asked. He’d give them what-for if they had.

“I-it’s just…oh, it’s everything,” you whimpered. “Work sucked today, I felt like I was in fuckin’ purgatory. I don’t…I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

Rhett sighed softly. Seeing you in pain made him feel so powerless. While he knew that he was providing you comfort, he still wished he could take all the hurt away. You didn’t deserve any of it. “I’m sorry.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead.

And then, “Let me take care of ya. ‘ve already got dinner started. How does a bath sound? I’ll get ya set up and then finish dinner so you can eat.”

“Good,” you whispered, as if you couldn’t find the strength to speak louder.

With a nod, Rhett set to work. “C’mon, let’s get you out of all these layers.”

He began carefully undoing your coat, which he removed from your body and promptly hung on the little coat rack by the door. Then he pulled your hat off your head and placed it on the pegboard that also housed different sets of keys.

He guided you to sit down on the bench near the shoe organizer, and there, he knelt before you, unlacing your boots. You watched him so tenderly, so reverently, care for you, and again, you felt yourself welling up with tears.

You hadn’t retained much from the time you’d spent growing up in church, aside from some trauma and a distaste for religion. But one Bible verse in particular popped into your head as you watched your husband remove your shoes. Most men will proclaim every one his own goodness: But a faithful man who can find?

Rhett never asked for anything. He never bragged about himself or his accomplishments. He was good and kind. A little rough around the edges, but he treated you like royalty, and respected you deeply. He was faithful to you, and to the homestead you had built together. He didn’t wander. He didn’t seek intimacy in the arms of another. He was anchored to you, for better or worse.

And now he was guiding you up the stairs and to the bedroom, his arm secure around your waist, part of him always touching you. Grounding you. He guided you to sit on the bed, leaving a kiss against the top of your head before he sauntered over to the dresser to choose some pajamas for you.

You were in a haze, brought on by the rush of emotions you had experienced. Sleepy from crying, frazzled from your stress. You were lucky that Rhett was there to help you, because you felt so pathetic and incapable of caring for yourself in this state. You could manage alone if you had to, but you didn’t have to. As long as your husband was around, you’d never have to worry about being alone.

“You want to wear these, or these?” He asked, holding up a set of Christmas pajamas that were your own, and a pair of sweatpants and one of his Henleys.

Of course, you chose the sweats and his shirt, because you wanted to be entirely surrounded by everything that was him.

With your pajamas picked out, he guided you to the bathroom, where he had you sit upon the closed toilet seat while he began filling the tub, making sure the water was the perfect temperature. In the process, he grabbed the little space heater you kept in the bedroom, and he set it up in the corner of the bathroom, to warm up the cold tiles so you wouldn’t catch a chill.

You smiled fondly at his attentiveness. “I love you,” you spoke.

He paused, his face softening, his eyes fluttering. “And I love you, pun’kin.” He kissed the top of your head before he motioned for you to stand. There, he began undressing you, and you allowed him to, because you didn’t have the energy to do it yourself.

After the bath was filled, and the bubbles were in, he guided you into the water. “I’m gonna’ go finish makin’ us dinner, alright?”

But you frowned at that. “No, wan’ you to get in with me.”

“And I’d love to get in with ya, but you haven’t eaten anything since your lunch break, right?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Since 11:30 actually.”

“Uh-huh, exactly. That’s why I’m feedin’ you dinner. Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ my baby starve.” Another kiss was left upon your head. “Just relax and enjoy your bath. I’ll be back in a few to help ya get dressed. Then we can eat.”

That piqued your interest. “Can we watch a holiday movie?” You asked.

He hummed, a twinkle in his eye. “‘course we can, sweet thing.”

As he turned to leave, you spoke up. “Hey, Rhett?”

In the doorway, he turned. “Hm?”

“Thank you for takin’ care of me.”

He shook his head. “That ain’t somethin’ you need to thank me for. Carin’ for you is my job, and I’m always gonna do it.”

What a man he was. Once he left the room, you found yourself reflecting upon how blessed you were to have him. When you’d first met him, he was a broken man with so much love to give, but no one to bestow it upon, except for his niece. But she wasn’t his child, so he found himself holding back, because even though he didn’t agree with the way his brother parented her, he didn’t want to overstep.

Of course, he would’ve made a better father to Amy than Perry ever could. But that was neither here nor there. Now, Rhett barely spoke to his brother. For his own well-being, he’d cut ties with Royal and Perry. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he was better now because of it.

There were behaviors he’d worked hard to unlearn after he entered into a relationship with you. Trouble communicating and processing his emotions was the most glaring issue. Those first few years together were no picnic. You had argued often. All you asked for was for him to be open and honest with you. He bucked against it like an untamed horse. The thought of being exposed and vulnerable in that way terrified him.

He didn’t want you to see the wounded, ugly parts of him. Didn’t want you to see him cry, because his father had drilled into his head that showing emotion was feminine. Men don’t cry, he’d tell his son. It was simply because he didn’t want to deal with Rhett’s emotional nature.

Rhett, who had always been a sensitive soul, learned to hide that sensitivity early on. Don’t cry, for fear of being told “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about.”

In recent years, since Amy was born, Royal had softened a bit. But he was still just as hard on his youngest son. Rhett was the workhorse. The dependable one. The one who would grit his teeth and get the job done without complaining.

And God forbid if he tried to complain. Royal wasn’t one for physical violence, it just wasn’t in his nature. But when Rhett was seventeen years old, he’d gotten fed up with the verbal lashing from his father. It was the first time he’d really tried to stand up for himself and tell Royal to shove it, in not-so-delicate terms. But it hadn’t ended well. Royal had backhanded Rhett so hard he saw stars, and ended up with a bloody lip.

The man had felt bad about his reaction, but the thing about Royal Abbott was, he didn’t apologize. It wasn’t in his nature. Rhett couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever heard ‘I’m sorry’ come out of his father’s mouth.

That moment was what made Rhett realize he couldn’t stay in such a toxic environment. He longed to leave the confines of the Abbott Ranch behind and pave his own way. But that was easier said than done. A sense of responsibility to his family kept him chained down to Wabang. He seemed to be destined to spend the rest of his days as a bull rider, living in his father’s shadow, busting his ass and receiving nothing in return.

And then he met you.

You made him believe there was more to life. You made him believe he could chase his dreams and achieve them. You made him believe in himself.

He had learned so much from you. And through you, he had found freedom. You were the first person, aside from Amy, who’d ever truly believed in him. And here he’d spend the better part of ten years pining after a girl named Maria, who had never and would never return his affection

He remembered being so glad when she returned to town after being at college for the last few years. He thought maybe things would be different. Maybe she would see him for who he was and finally reciprocate his feelings.

But all she’d done was string him along and make him feel like shit for never leaving Wabang. In the end, she lost any interest she might’ve had in Rhett, leaving him dejected.

And then you showed up. You were new in town. Your grandparents had just bought a new house in Florida, but still had yet to successfully sell their ranch. While they transitioned to a new house in a new state, they asked you if you would be willing to stay at their place until it sold. Dissatisfied with your current job and living situation, you agreed.

Soon, you found yourself in an unfamiliar town in Wyoming, the last place you ever thought you’d be. You got a job through Amelia Elementary School, teaching piano. One of your students was Amy Abbott, and this was how you met her uncle, Rhett.

You should have known it from the second you saw him. He appeared rough and tumble, but when he introduced himself to you, his eyes, bright and blue, were soft, and you swore you saw the hint of a blush in the apples of his cheeks.

That was what did you in. There was a softness to him that tugged on your heartstrings. You had Amy twice a week for lessons. Rhett picked her up each time, and you found yourself looking forward to seeing him.

Over the course of the next few months, he swallowed his fear of rejection and worked up the courage to ask you to go for coffee. Rhett wasn’t a fan of the fancy lattes and whatnot that Two Horns Coffee sold in downtown Wabang, but he’d noticed you often had a coffee cup from the place in hand, and he wanted to take you somewhere you liked.

That was how he found himself seated in a quaint little cafe that totally wasn’t his style, in favor of getting to know you. That day, you talked for hours, until the coffee shop employees were shooing you out because it was closing time. And after that, you walked through the town and continued talking.

Rhett wasn’t loud or boisterous or pompous. He was quiet and gentle. He was shy, which surprised you. He seemed so confident, but really, it was all a front. Everyone perceived him a certain way. He was the promiscuous bull rider with a new buckle bunny in his bed every night.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. He admitted to you that he hadn’t slept with anyone since Maria a few months ago, and before her, the last time anyone had been in his bed was the night of his 21st birthday. Some girl he barely knew.

His family’s perception of his promiscuity stemmed from that instance, where Royal had caught the girl sneaking off early in the morning. Since then, Rhett hadn’t been able to live it down. In the minds of his family, he was the man-whoring problem child.

Rhett never bothered to correct them, because what was the use?

But when you looked at him, you saw him. The real him. Shy and slightly awkward. Fidgety, unable to sit still. Kind and loving. Determined.

He liked that. He felt seen and heard with you. He never felt like a burden. And because of this, he found himself drawn to you more and more. Soon enough, a romance blossomed between you. While it had its ups and downs, there was no doubt in each other’s minds that this was it. You were bonded for the rest of your lives.

Your wedding came not long after. An intimate occasion with your closest friends and family. A beautiful ceremony in the mountains. After that, you moved into the home you’d been staying in since you moved to Wabang. As it turned out, your grandparents’ little ranch never sold, which left you and Rhett to move into it.

You offered to pay in full for it, but your grandparents wouldn’t hear of it, insisting it was your wedding gift. The house did, however, need a lot of renovations, and that was where a lot of your money went.

Since then, you had turned the house into everything you’d always dreamed of, and you’d started a wholesome life within its walls.

Here Rhett was, thinking he needed to leave Wabang. But in reality, it wasn’t his hometown that he needed to distance himself from. Miraculously, his mental well-being increased tenfold when he escaped from beneath Royal’s thumb and started living his own life.

And that was the thing of it, too. Rhett had a purpose here, on your little ranch. He could cultivate that intrinsic need to take care of things. He could take care of the land. He could take care of the animals. The only animals you had were your horse, Marabel, and Rhett’s horse, Esmeralda. But he had hopes of one day opening a horse sanctuary on your land.

That was his dream. Not professional bull riding, like he’d spent so long trying to convince himself of. He loved horses, and wanted to do everything he could to help the animals that had always meant so much to him.

He was working toward making that dream a reality. And someday soon, it would be.

It was amazing to see the difference in him, since he’d started chasing after what he loved. He was no longer a man chained down to a life he didn’t want. He’d found a sense of freedom, and now, he was happier than he’d ever been.

Yes, he had you to thank for it. But really, the determination to live a better life came from him. You were simply the one that lit the fire beneath him. Now he was a roaring flame, burning brighter than the sun.

You were so proud of how far he’d come. And he was proud of himself, too. He had every right to be.

He’d taken his ranch expertise and found a job at a horse ranch just outside of town. This allowed him to continuously be around the animals that he loved, while also making money. The owner was quite well off, and was paying Rhett handsomely.

For the first time in his life, he was making a steady income, and he could provide for not only himself, but for you as well. You had your own job, and could hold your own, of course. But Rhett liked knowing he could take care of you. And you appreciated it. Coming from a family who’d never uttered so much as a thank you for all he did, it was refreshing to have someone express their unending gratitude for his care.

Something as simple as making you grilled cheese for dinner made his heart soar, because after a difficult day, you were depending on him to care and provide for you. And he’d be damned if he was going to let you fend for yourself.

Watching you struggle had been hard for him. He hated seeing you in such a state of unrest. The changing of the seasons didn’t help, either. You were always hit with a bad wave of seasonal depression as soon as the clocks fell back. The early darkness made you sad.

So Rhett did all he could to help you bear that burden. And tonight, he was determined to help you feel better. While you enjoyed your bath, he set to work finishing up dinner preparations. A little while later, with sandwiches at the ready and the living room set up with blankets and pillows, he rejoined you in the bathroom.

“Hey, pun’kin. Y’ready?” He asked.

You smiled sleepily at him. “Mhm.”

So, he began the process of helping you out of the tub. He toweled you off, and then reverently smoothed your favorite lotion onto your skin. You were in a state of bliss as his large, but gentle, hands traveled over your body. He aided you in changing into your pajamas, and then he pulled a pair of cozy socks onto your feet.

“C’mon now, let’s go eat ‘fore it gets cold.”

With that, he bent to shut off the space heater before he guided you out of the bathroom and down the stairs. When you walked into the living room, you couldn’t help but smile. He’d spread multiple blankets and pillows across the couch, creating a soft, cozy resting place. The fireplace was roaring, the low lights were on, and when you glanced at the window, you saw the snow was now falling in white sheets, making you feel as if you were inside a snow globe.

“Oh, this is perfect,” you whispered.

Rhett beamed. “Go on, have a seat. I’ll get ya a drink. What do you want? Coke Zero? Some sweet tea?”

“Tea, please!” You quickly replied. One of the things Rhett could make besides grilled cheese was a mean sweet tea. Not too sweet, with just enough tea flavor that it wasn’t overpowering. It was your favorite.

“Comin’ right up, chickadee.”

As you settled into the soft blankets on the couch, Rhett hurried to grab drinks for both of you. Soon, he was rejoining you, presenting you with a glass of tea, complete with a straw. You thanked him, and he smiled before he set about selecting a holiday movie. The 1947 version of Miracle on 34th Street was his choice, and soon, you were cuddled up together as the opening credits rolled, enjoying your dinner of grilled cheese.

And just for a little while, things didn’t seem so bad. The harsh reality of life was dulled if only for a time, softened by the sweet delicateness of this moment shared between you.

After you finished your food, you curled into Rhett’s side, your head on his shoulder. Content, he rested his cheek atop your head. You knew it was inevitable that he’d fall asleep. With a full tummy, and a cozy couch beneath him, he was sure to doze off. Rhett liked to stay busy, so during moments when he wasn’t, such as sitting down to watch a movie, he would almost always fall asleep. Years of being a workin’ man will do that to a body.

He expected you to fall asleep, too. You’d had such a difficult day, and he was fully prepared to spend the rest of the night asleep on the couch with you.

However, you were still wide awake as the movie neared the ending. Instead of drowsiness, you were filled with immense gratefulness. Rhett had come home from a long day of working in the cold, and had prepared you dinner and ran you a bath, simply because you’d had a bad day. He didn’t have to do such things, but he wanted to.

He didn’t expect you to turn cartwheels and thank him in some dramatic way, but as you lay curled against him, you were struck with an idea. Albeit a mischievous one.

You shifted, moving to glance at him. He was barely awake, his big, round eyes droopy. But then you began to nuzzle against him, kissing his jaw lightly. At first, he didn’t think anything of it. But then, one of your hands worked its way beneath the hem of his shirt, rubbing at the skin there.

“Your hands are wanderin’,” he murmured, eyes still closed.

“I know,” you replied with a smile.

“What’re you doin’, girl?” He continued as your hand went toward his chest.

“Can’t I touch my man?”

“Sure y’can. But with you there’s always some ulterior motive. Little tease.”

He let out the softest of surprised squeaks when you tweaked his nipples, feeling them harden beneath your touch. “Not teasing. Just exploring.” Your lips attached to his jaw again, where you kissed and nipped at the scruffy skin.

He began to melt beneath you, always a sucker for your loving touch. Your wandering hand trailed down his abdomen, and stopped just above the waistband of his plaid lounge pants.

“Darlin’…” he warned, as your fingers swirled through the light dusting of hair that led down into his pants.

“What?” Deft fingers traveled beneath the band of elastic. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, which pleased you greatly, and gave you easy access. You brushed against the base of his cock, gripping onto it purposefully. He sucked in a breath, his hips jolting.

“Just wanted to thank you,” you hummed against his neck. “Always take such good care of me. Thought I’d take care of you.”

You stroked him once. Twice. Palm running over silky skin. You longed to feel him grow in your hand. It was so erotic to you. Holding that thick, beautiful cock of his while it swelled to full hardness.

“Wanna see it,” you spoke again.

Rhett lifted his hips off the couch and haphazardly pushed his pants down toward his thighs. That was all you needed. His lower half was exposed, just enough for you to free him from the confines. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you languidly ran your hand up and down, resting your head on his chest as you watched him harden.

God, you wanted to worship him. So that was what you did.

You turned, moving to trail kisses down his smooth chest, stopping to leave a kiss against the raised scar that sat upon his shoulder. An unfortunate accident with a bull some years back.

Then you went lower, lower, lower. Hands exploring, lips traveling. Soon, you were kneeling between his strong thighs, gazing up at him. You tugged his pants the rest of the way down, discarding them entirely so you could have uninhibited access.

“S’pretty,” you hummed, as you admired him. It took him a moment to realize you were talking about his cock. His cheeks turned a shade of pink. But his bashfulness was soon forgotten when you leaned forward and began kissing along the underside of his shaft, from base to tip, offering tentative kitten licks as you went.

He watched as you rubbed your cheek against him, nuzzling him as you kissed at his sensitive balls. You wanted to take a moment to truly appreciate what was before you. Standing tall and proud, something Rhett had every right to boast about if he wanted.

But he didn’t. And that was where you came in, talking him up because you loved the way it rendered him speechless and blushing.

“So big, I don’t know how it even fits inside me,” you mused. And it was the truth. But he was careful when he fucked you, never wanting to hurt you. Of course, that didn’t mean he was gentle. He had his gentle moments when you needed them, but he also had his moments where he fucked you within an inch of your life. You loved the balance. And you loved that he was mindful of what your body could handle. He’d never push you past your limits. Getting you to safeword was not the end goal. He wanted you to be able to enjoy intense scenes, without being pushed too far to the point where it took you out of the moment.

Together, you had built a steady trust in each other, with boundaries put in place. Even in the midst of those scenes, you felt safe with Rhett. Protected. Even in the throes of intense passion, he was still looking out for you.

But sometimes, something simple was all you needed. Like now, for instance. Lazily mouthing at his dick, relishing in the sharp saltiness on your tongue, and the deep muskiness that could only be described as Rhett. There was something so manly about it, and it sent a needy ache thrumming through your core.

Meanwhile, Rhett was blissed out above you, torn between admiring you between his legs, and letting his head fall back against the couch as he relished in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth. Sinful and heavenly all at once.

After spending time kissing and licking at him, you finally moved to focus on his tip, blushed and glimmering in the low light. Eyes flickering up to meet his hooded gaze, you parted your lips and very slowly began to swirl your tongue around him. Making a show of it, you focused your attention on the slit, tongue flicking back and forth until you were rewarded with a bead of precum, which you eagerly lapped up.

“Oh, oh darlin’,” he breathed, hands gripping at the blankets beneath him. “You an’ that mouth of yours.”

You hummed around him, closing your lips around the tip and suckling softly before you began inching your way down. Being able to deep-throat him had taken practice. You remembered the way he reacted when you first took all of him. Unbeknownst to him, you’d been using a toy that was roughly the same size as him, training your throat to be able to take him.

Now you could take him like a champ, and it drove him wild.

Slowly, slowly, you took more of him, relaxing your throat, until your nose was pressed against the gathering of dark hair around the base. He kept himself neatly groomed, but left just enough behind because he knew how much you loved it.

“‘at’s it, atta girl,” he graveled, fighting the urge to place his hand atop your head and hold you in place. But he would soon quickly lose that air of dominance to you.

You swallowed around him, which stole the air from his lungs, before you pulled back, kissing at the tip, wet with your spit. As you took a moment to catch your breath, you brought a hand up to toy with his heavy balls.

“Ha!” He gasped, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Sensitive?” You asked.

“Uh-huh,” he answered. “Ain’t had ‘em played with in a while.”

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, mouth still against the soft skin of his cock. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I? Haven’t played with these big sensitive balls. Haven’t milked the cum out of them in so long.”

“F-fuck!” You’d taken him all the way to the hilt again without warning.

It was true. It had been a while. It had been a crazy few weeks for both of you, and you hadn’t had time to really enjoy each other in the way that you wanted. A few quickies here and there hadn’t satisfied that burning desire you held for one another.

Rhett didn’t like getting off without you. Sometimes, he would, if he was ever out of town or vice versa. But he much preferred being with you. He craved you. Fantasized about you. Wanted only you. His hand didn’t cut it. Your mouth and pussy were what he wanted.

And oh, how good your mouth was. You knew exactly how to pleasure him. Knew he loved when you swirled your tongue against the underside of his tip, where he was most sensitive. Knew he couldn’t get enough of your hands on his balls while you took him down your throat. Knew he loved when you rubbed your face all over his dick.

When you pulled your mouth off of him again, you rubbed the tip all over your lips, kissing softly, humming against him. Then you went back to tonguing the underside, and he gasped sharply, hips jolting.

You took that opportunity to close your mouth around him and let him slide naturally to the back of your throat again. You used your other hand to massage down his shaft as you pulled back up, never leaving him without a moment of stimulation.

“Y’ keep doin’ that and I won’t last,” he warned.

“That’s the idea,” you replied with a smile.

He moaned softly, letting his head fall back as you swallowed around him. This time, you stayed down longer, gulping as you did, and the sound drove him wild. You were drooling all over him, pulling out all the stops to bring him to the edge.

And it was working. He was so pent up, and you both knew he wasn’t going to last. He’d begun to tremble, his thighs shaking at either side of your head. His hands clenched and unclenched around the blankets he held. His hips had begun to move of their own volition.

“You’re squirming,” you teased.

“Ca-can’t help it,” he stammered. “Your—fuck—your mouth is so g— ah!”

He couldn’t even get the words out. You kept pressing your tongue against that damn spot, knowing it would get him all worked up. He was losing his coherence the longer it went on. Mumbled half phrases, with gasps and whines mixed in. It was so easy to work him up like this. He was always so responsive.

Interestingly enough, he hadn’t always been like this. In the beginning, he’d been more reserved. He was shy about the sounds he made. Ashamed of his whines and whimpers. He was holding back, and you could tell. So, little by little, you encouraged him to be more vocal.

“Wanna hear you. Wanna know it feels good for you,” you’d told him, and he hadn’t really thought of it that way. As much as he loved hearing you and knowing he was making you feel good, he realized you also wanted the same thing from him.

It took him a little while to feel confident enough to freely make those sounds of pleasure, but once he finally got past that hurdle, you couldn’t shut him up if you tried. Not that you wanted to, either.

There was something about this man of few words being unable to remain silent that really got to you. You’d expected him to be all gravelly grunts and groans. And he was. But he whimpered, too. A lot. Especially when you got him feeling really good.

He was so easy to rile up. Whether he was assuming the dominant or submissive role, or just simply making love to you with no kinky games involved. Get him close to orgasm, and sounds would pour from his throat uncontrollably.

Like now, for instance. He was so beautiful this way. His whole body trembling, his eyes rolling back, his mouth open to let out unsteady gasps. You loved how you could reduce him to such a state. This strong, steady man, who’d just so tenderly taken care of you, was now trying to hold it together so he wouldn’t come too soon.

But you wanted it. “Nuh-uh, don’t you hold back,” you told him.

He took a shuddering breath. “Honey…”

“C’mon,” you coaxed, wrapping your fingers around him and stroking quickly. “Know you wanna come in my mouth, wanna watch me swallow all of it.”

And oh, he did. One thing about Rhett was that he loved watching you take his cum. Whether it be smeared across your pretty face, painted onto your chest, dripping out of your pussy, or in your mouth.

Right now, you wanted it in your mouth. And you were determined to get it. Keeping your tongue right against his tip, you tightened your grip on him only slightly, moving your hand with purpose. Your other hand was at his balls again, massaging in time with the hand on his shaft.

His eyes swam with unshed tears, and he gritted his teeth, breathing harshly through his nose. Warmth was beginning to crackle to life at the base of his spine, as if you’d just lit a fuse.

You pulled out all the stops, taking him to the hilt again before you resumed that pleasurable torture against his tip. Alternating back and forth, bringing him closer and closer and closer to the edge, watching through hooded eyes as he lost himself, chest heaving, body trembling.

“C-close,” he gasped.

“Come down my throat,” you urged, before you placed his cock against your tongue, stroking hard and fast as you brought him toward his end.

Rhett gazed down at you, and you caught his eye, your face pleading as you eagerly awaited his load. He could barely take the sight, and he threw his head back, groaning deeply. “F-fuck, darlin’, I’m—”

And then he whined. Keening high in his chest, his hips shunted forward. You could feel him pulse beneath your touch, and in an instant, you closed your mouth around him, creating a seal so that nothing would escape. You took all he had to give, swallowing every last drop of his seed like the good girl you were, all while he gasped and whined and softly sobbed above you.

As he came down, he twitched in your mouth, the sensitivity mounting. He hissed as you pulled off his cock, sucking any remnants of cum from his skin before you released the softening shaft. You pressed a gently kiss to the tip before you innocently looked up at him.

Breathlessly, he swore. “Get up here,” he murmured, and you smiled, climbing up into his lap. He searched for your lips, and you kissed him, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Mm, nearly sucked m’ soul outta me,” he teased.

“That was the idea,” you said with a giggle.

He leaned in to kiss you again. His eyes were droopy, sleepiness evident in his features. “Should return the favor,” he continued when he broke the kiss, but you shook your head.

“Uh-uh, that was my way of thanking you for taking care of me. We’re even.”

“But I wan’...” he paused to yawn, “wan’ make you feel good, too.”

“Tomorrow,” you promised. “For now, let’s just rest.” Another kiss was pressed to his lips before you reluctantly slid off him to retrieve his pants from the floor. You had just enough time to pull them onto his body before he had fallen asleep.

Lovingly, you brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead before you settled down beside him, pulling the blanket over you both. “I love you, cowboy,” you whispered, as you nestled yourself against his side. How grateful you were for him. This good and kind man was all yours. You silently thanked the universe for giving him to you.

And sure enough, the next morning, you woke to his head between your thighs, sending you to a place of absolute, unadulterated bliss.

Yes, you were thankful for him indeed.

taglist:

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @peachystenbrough @attapullman @auroralightsthesky @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @hangmanapologist @lovinglyeternal @laracrofted @callsign-magnolia @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @nobody7102 @milesmillergf @idontcare-11 @theliterarybeldam @yanna-banana @floydsglasses @whisperofsong @1-800-floyd @floydsmuse @cruel-winter-nights @goldenseresinretriever @keep-on-burnin @happyrebelruins @bamfkurt @swiftsgirlfriend @virgo-wonder @seitmai-too @bradshawsbaby @bradshawsbitch

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fic

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thewitcheslibrary · 7 months ago

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Beltane

The date of the holiday: 1st may

History: Beltane is derived from the Celtic term Baal or Bel, which meaning "Bright One." As farmers prepared to shift their livestock from winter pastures to summer grazing in the hills, they sought protection and abundance from the gods by starting fires and herding cattle through the flames to the summer grazing fields. This was thought to protect the herd from attack while also increasing fertility.

In more practical terms, these bonfires were most likely used to burn brush heaps and clear space for planting and pastureland. In the home, hearth fires were extinguished and replaced with flames from Beltane bonfires. People often walked the perimeters of their properties or towns to evoke additional protection for the next year. Yellow flowers were used to decorate doorways, windows, and even cattle during Beltane.

Like all of the Wheel of Year sabbat celebrations, Beltane was a time for merry making and feasting. People would write a wish upon a ribbon and tie it a to a tree, in the hopes that the gods would grant them. Hawthorn, ash, thorn and sycamore trees were believed to be the best trees for making wishes.

Dew gathered on Beltane was thought to have special properties for increased beauty and youthfulness.

Beltane and sexuality- SLIGHT NSFW WARNING!

Part of Celtic Beltane beliefs revolved around the holy union of the God and Goddess, which people celebrated by having sex on Beltane. Usually outside, to further connect with nature. Children conceived at Beltane (and hence born at Imbolc) were regarded to belong to the Goddess, and were commonly referred to as'merry-be-gots', with a particular tie to the faerie world. Beltane, like Samhain, was a period when the curtain between the worlds became thinner, allowing ghosts to pass through. Unlike Samhain, the visiting ghosts were not looking for a feast or a quick chat with relatives. The spirits of Beltane were considered to be seeking reincarnation or sexual intercourse.

The topic of sexuality runs throughout Beltane. The Maypole, which maidens usually adorn and celebrate, is a phallic emblem signifying masculine strength, whereas the cauldron represents female power. Women who desired to produce a child would start a small fire, place the cauldron on it, and then leap over it.

To go Maying, or picking flowers and other flora in adjacent woodlands, was associated with casual sex in the woods. There was no stigma connected with out-of-wedlock marriage, and hand-fasting was prevalent, in which two individuals bonded together for a year and a day. Beltane activities such as the Maypole were forbidden by the Puritans in parts of Great Britain in the 17th century, owing in part to their overt sexuality.

END OF THE NSFW -

Symbols of beltane-

Colors: White, dark green, red

Foods: Dairy foods, honey, oats, mead, lamb

Stones: Sapphire, blood stone, emerald, orange carnelian, rose quartz

Symbols: Goat, honeybee, cown, fairies, pegasus, rabbits, flower crown, maypole, basket

Flowers & Plants: Primrose, lilac, hawthorn, birch, Rosemary, Ivy, woodruff, rowan, violet, alfalfa, cedar, peppermint lavendar

Deities: Aphrodite, Artemis, Freya, Rhiannon, Apollo, Bel/Belnos, The Great Horned God, BÓand/Boann

Setting intentions during this time-

Beltane has traditionally been a fertility celebration. However, if you don't have infants in mind, that's OK! Beltane is an excellent opportunity to reflect on creativity and success. Beltane is the moment to follow through on your objectives from Imbolc and Ostara. Perhaps you've been thinking about launching a company; Beltane is the time to set an appointment with the bank and inquire about finance. Perhaps you've been writing a book and now it's time to contact publishers or locate an agent. Beltane, with its promise of harvest and fruitfulness, is a time to take inspired action and be confident.

Ways to celebrate-

Chose one of the deities listed above and honour them in some way, yes even if you dont work with them. You can still celebrate them and wear or do things associated with them, just do so respectfully! Eat some of the foods associated with beltane! Even if you just eat a bowl of oats with honey for breakfast, its a good and simple way to celebrate. And its perfect if you can't openly celebrate, it just looks like your enjoying some food. You could also drink peppermint tea!

Wear some of the colours and carry the stones and gems around with you during this day. You can incorporate both colour magic and crystal magic by doing this and is also just easy to hide and do subtly! - everyone wears clothes (hopefully) and you can just say you are collecting rocks and crystals because you find them cool! - Flower crowns can be incorporated into outfits too.

Buy flowers or make a bouquet with the flowers associated with the holiday! They will make your space or altar look colourful, and flowers are pretty. This isnt as easy to hide, but if people do ask you can tell them you just liked them and treated yourself!

Set aside time for some self care - treat yourself to a special meal, music, aromas - whatever make you feel special!- with this you could use the plants, herbs, crystals, candles in the colours associated with them and some drawn symbols and put together a ritual bath! - bit of a clean up after but again its somewhat easy to hide

some less subtle way to celebrate.

Hold a bonfire for family and friends

Take action on a project you’ve been working on

Decorate a tree with colorful ribbons that represent your wishes for the coming year

Make flower crowns

Walk your property and give thanks and ask for protection in the coming year

Decorate your home yellow flower wreaths, bouquets or garlands

#pagan witch #witch #witchblr #witchcore #witchcraft #beltane #wheel of the year #witchy stuff

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ourlittleuluru · 6 months ago

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_(:з)∠)_ It's a holiday today and even when I'm out for errands, Xavier still worms his way into my brain...

Ramblings about Xavier and his red collar ahead~ (story spoilers, be warned) Apologies first. I'm not the best with words or saying things out from my brain... so It might be a bit jumbled, or I might've missed some things <( _ _ )>

I'm not going to be talking about anything new. Theories and such be everywhere already, all that's been speculated is all out there ><;;;

It's just my brain, earlier in the day, decided to re-frame my thinking about the collar a bit and just letting all these thoughts out somewhere that isn't inside my brain... moving on ➡➡➡

So... what we DO know about the collar is that it's something restricting Xavier in some way. It's just not clear HOW it's restricting him.

Collar is also something of the Ever Company's property, most likely. Since there's an icon on the collar that belongs to Ever Company. At most, I would think it's from the Ever Company that is from the time during Anecdote 3. (What if... Xavier is the son of the Ever Company president in Anec3... 🤔 I mean he's got men in suits tailing him all over... but that's a thought for another day)

Up to today, my guess is that the collar restricts his use of his Evol, on top of other things. Restricting his Evol, in a way, makes him "weaker". Xavier is very good (I would guess) at using his Evol and it's powerful enough to cause huge light explosions too. So he's dangerous (to the people that wants to control him) and restricting him in that manner helps to keep Xav in check.

Unsure if the Evol Resonance here being strong is due to Xavier's Evol itself already being very strong... OR... that the two share a deep bond since times of yore and she was just able to resonate much easier and stronger with him.

Okay. Main thoughts and speculations down below 😂 I dragged this long enough, and I'm rambling on a bit much...

The collar, restricts Xavier's Evol and...

Xavier, always overdoes it and uses his Evol past the allowed limit.

It hurts him in return, but he usually doesn't care any ways. If it's to save people and MC especially, he WILL do it

He can choose to ignore the limiter, but it will only cause him to use even more of his Evol just to overcome the limiter AND do what he needed to do

So to explain, an example in terms of MP from RPG games: His Light Explosion usually costs 50MP. The Collar restricts his MP to be only 40MP. Now, for Xavier to use his Light Explosion skill again, he needs 60MP instead of the usual 50MP the reason for my above thought is simply because BOTH his Hunter's Watch AND Collar were warning him in his Myth

This makes him even more spent, makes him use 2 syringes to recover... and potentially speeds up whatever process is causing the BackTrackers on Earth to turn into Wanderers (???)

If he were to resonate with MC however, maybe he can bypass the limiter, me thinks. But obviously he is very aware that he can't abuse this.

There's a possibility that he will still get the side effects after that, maybe in a smaller amount... and it's also to protect MC herself

Uh... I feel like I had more thoughts to blurb out... but after this many hours I think I might've forgotten them... 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

~+~+~+~+~

And... this is how many times (that I managed to catch, that is) his collar has flared up: 6 times

(it'll be 7 if one assumes that when we meet Xavier, and he's sleeping... during that time he has already overused his Evol which caused the Metaflux explosion and was sleeping to "recharge", that his collar definitely flared red at that time)

Who knows how many more times before the Main story at this point in time (22 May 2024. Dating this just in case lol. Tumblr doesn't really show timestamps on the dash) that he's used his Evol til the collar turned red... and how many more times he is allowed to keep using it like that...

This feels to me like an unbreakable cycle at this point for Xavier... T-T

Both him and MC being each other's greatest strength and their greatest weakness 😩🥺👌

Ughhhh I feel the MASSIVE AMOUNT OF FEELS AND ANGST COMING WITH THIS MAN 😭😭😭😭 Please let this bebe live!

#xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #xavier #churambles #also these is just a long ass ramblings i needed to get out of my head.... uh.... mistakes do be made and i may have overlooked stuff so...#I was JUST TRYING to take snapshots of Xavier and moments where his collar flashes red...#and I already accumulated like...#440 PICS!#I need help...#and more storage #<<;;;;;#this is how my whole evening went...#re-reading parts of the Main Story the Myth and Anecdotes #AND ALL THE SCREENSHOTTING I DID ToT

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theemployees · 8 months ago

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Hm. I heard you wanted to know about HoneiSukle, Yes? The only bee capital inside the hidden city's territory, a maze that you will have to learn the directions of based on word of mouth and experience. But I suppose I can tell you all about it.

Tall, golden, imposing, covered in plants buildings with a grand white castle at the center with tall walls surrounding the kingdom, alongside the tall and dense forest around is what a person would see for the first time will say about them.

But as a bee yokai living inside the hive? Well, You take notice of the intricacies of how everything is built.

You notice the barely visibly patterns of hexagons embedded into the material that makes up the buildings. The special designs, symbols, and spells hidden, stitched, and marked into banners, signs, glass, and even the glistening white outerwalls.

You see how the forest has many hidden sigils and posts hidden inside the dense canopy of leaves above the past along with inside the thicker trees themselves. Those yokai are very territorial if you were about to ask.

You notice the golden arches that always look oh so complicated yet so simple.

You notice how the plants flourish in the environment and how much care gets put into where they get placed, you see the gardeners tend to the plants and make sure that they do not die under their care.

You see all the different signs, made with a dark wood or stone and usually written on with bright colors, each color meticulously representing what establishment and business the building was being used for.

The gardens are such a sacred thing, did you know? They say that the gardens hold ancient and magical properties, some people do not come out for hours at time but claim they've only been inside for only half that time... Others say that when a terribly ill person visits the gardens, they come out mostly healed. Not all the way no, but it's improves a person's health and heightens their chance of survival or being healed.

One thing is for certain, These special and sacred gardens are heavily guarded areas due to some distasteful Yokai coming in and trying to vandalize them and destroy the ancient and often extinct flora and plants inside.

Of course, these perks only apply to the giant gardens and the Castle Gardens. The parks dotted around the hive have a much lower chance at reducing a yokai's trouble, but constant exposure had been shown to benefit a person's mental health.

... But of course, These are rumors that have been debunked by the Bee, Bear, and some other trusted yokai by the Bees.

You see how they act, yes? Hesitant and wary of any outsiders who have not 'proven' themselves. There is even a schedule on when outsiders can visit or not. First half of the week and very certain sacred holidays forbid the entry of anyone who is not trusted. Politicians alike have tried to fight against the rules, but they get reminded that the Queens of the past had bought the land they reside. They bought the entire forest and a little ways from it.

It's only nature that they are paranoid, especially after the great war. They don't want to lose the hive again after all, so why trust outsiders?

While yes, a Bee Yokai alone may be the sweetest thing you've ever met... But an entire group of them? They can be the most bitter yokai around if you say or do the wrong thing around them.

But can you really blame them? They have a shakey alliance with the Wasp Yokai because 4 generations ago, one of them killed the King of HoneiSukle. An act like that is unforgivable but the Bees are trying to repair it. Even if it's shakey....

Unlike with the Butterflies, Most of them can be quite rude to the bees and will not show any kindness towards them. It's only reasonable that the Bee Yokai are rude back, Because you mess with one, you mess with all of them.

They do however, have a nice and stable relationship with the Ursine. The Bear and Bee Yokai usually always have a good bond, The Bees provide Honey and the Bears provide protection. It's why the Bears have free reign over the schedule unlike other yokai species, it's because the Bears are fair to the Bees. They act as good bodyguards and well... Would you want to fight a bear?

What you don't see is that the entire city is accessible to the disabled too, Elevators, Professional buses that have wheelchair accessible closest to the doors and not just the front... Basically, everyone inside is treated equally and fairly unless given reason to otherwise.

And the more you stay, the more you know how to properly navigate the maze and customs that is in HoneiSukle Hive, The Hidden City's only Bee City.

......

Well, how about I show you a paper I found that advertises HoneiSukle, hm? The second part seems to be targeted about the two week Flower festival every mid spring.

Ahem.

'The HoneiSukle district was a section of the city that was surrounded by forest with all types of trees and protected by the Hardworking bees. Tall standing buildings that shimmered like gold with hexagonal patterns all around.

HoneiSukle is home to one of the largest family of hardworking bees. These bees all had different jobs they had to tend to, from saleswomen to CEOs, This Colony is the most prosperous from all the hardwork they put into making their 'Hive'.

The HoneiSukle District is home to the tastiest honey known to Yokai kind and the most elaborate and perfect beeswax candles. Their Luscious and colorful gardens are known to be tourist attractions and genuine places where tourists could watch worker bees take care of the flower and some even taking the pollen!

Every Spring, when everybee has regained their energy, There is a festival that lasts for two weeks to celebrate the new blooming flowers and the new year. Many are allowed to come to this festival and celebrate along the bees, and you can hear everyone happy. Children are laughing and running around, Elders are over to the side gossiping about all the different gossip they have picken up, both young and old are participating in different games and are letting the world know they are having fun. The Queens' happily look over the events from atop their throne that is infront of the giant sakura tree that had been there for centuries.

Every Friday during the festival, Yokai will come along and dance around with their lovers and close ones as Cherry Blossoms fall around them to 'strengthen' their love for eachother, as the bees believe that Friday is the day of love for both platonic and romantic. It does not matter who you bring along, just as long as you are respectful and only wear white or pastel colors!'

Now, you may wonder why they specified that you wear white, yes?

Well, It's because during the floral parades, bees on floats and on their wings and feet will start throwing washable pigments and colored water at the crowd, staining their clothes and skin/fur/scales with an array of colors.

I mentioned the city being user accessible before, Have I? Well, this festival is no exception. They have performers on the ground who dance and cover the ground below, other bees pull up those who cannot use or do not have their wings with a swing so they can experience flying and throwing pigment at the crowd. Fan dancers all around with white and light blue fans to mimic wings.

I think I have a photo of the festival.. Along with one of the area normally...

ah yes, here it is.

Hmm...

Well, if you ask more questions I'm sure I'll be able to answer them.

— ???

(ty to @disgracedghostprincess for the last two drawings, and if you are gonna ask about HoneiSukle pls add hsh first thing for our sake—)

@tmntaucompetition

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crisalidaseason · 10 months ago

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obsessed with your kenuri universe and would love to see some kenny/kuchel fluffy sibling time (why'd have to kill heeeer jk)

You ask and I shall deliver. This took me longer than I wanted (I should have posted it in December but I was very depressed). Also, sorry for having to K my sweet Kuchel, but she is very much alive in this!

Family chaos on Christmas - the prequel

Summary: Kenny is miserably working on the holiday season, Kuchel is very pregnant and Uri is worming his way into Kenny's heart.

Content warning: within my family chaos universe, modern au, a prequel of sorts, some angst, mentions of pregnancy and labor, Kenny is a good brother, Kenny is tired and anxious, mentions of anxiety, slight descriptions of anxiety attacks, fluff, some domestic vibes, sibling bond, pining (Kenny/Uri)

__________________________________________________________

Kenny waited five seconds after she left to immediately switch the door sign from open to closed.

“Happy holidays, mister Ackerman” the old woman waved as she finally left the shop.

“Happy holidays, ma’am”

“Fucking finally”

The young man wanted nothing more than to end that shift. He thought it should be a crime to work on December 24th.

“Who fucking needs repair tools on Christmas?? You know, if people were less stupid and more organized all shops could close on holidays”

He had complained while getting ready for work that morning. Kuchel - the little shit that she was - just laughed at his annoyance.

“At least the owner let you close earlier, Ken. It could have been worse”

He huffed while recalling the short conversation. It was easy for Kuchel to not relate to his misery, she never worked on holidays even before she went on maternity leave. For him, working six instead of eight hours on Christmas made no difference in the end, since traffic would probably take the rest of his sanity away.

“Fuck off” he screamed loudly as he hit yet another traffic jam. It took 30 extra minutes for him to finally arrive at the apartment complex. He groaned while parking, Kuchel’s car was almost giving up - that old thing would die on them any day, Kenny was dreading it. He managed to park and almost cried in relief. Finally home!

Well. He may have rid himself of work, but home was another rollercoaster to get through.

“Kenny!” the woman greeted him from the living room/kitchen couch “took you long enough”

The older ackerman was sitting comfortably on the couch, reading a book, a heavy blanket covering her round middle section and many pillows stacked around her.

“Have you eaten?” the man asked “I thought about take out, but traffic was impossible to go through”

“I snacked a little, it’s fine” she assured him, but her face said otherwise.

She finally reached the ninth month - or, according to her, the 39th week - of her pregnancy. Kuchel was huge and feeling as uncomfortable as her appearance suggested. The last few weeks were filled with low mobility and badly assembled snacks.

“What about some chicken salad?” he suggested “I pre-made some seasoned shredded chicken”

The woman’s eyes beamed at him.

“Kenny, you’re a lovely lovely brother, you know that?”

He groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever”

Despite his initial stress and tiredness, there was a calming property in cooking a tasty chicken salad. He was far from a good student in school, but the ‘chemistry’ and ‘physics’ of food always fascinated him, he wished life could subside enough for him to spend more time experimenting with cooking. The satisfaction of eating a good meal was a recent comfort he was thankful for everyday.

“Here” he handed his sister the plate with plenty of the chicken salad “beverage?”

She motioned the half full bottle of guava juice on the kitchen table, silently denying his question. The Ackerman man sat down on the ground, with his own plate on his lap, leaving a groan of relief at the first bite. He turned the television on, looking for something interesting to watch but only finding Christmas movies or news.

“Go back!” Kuchel’s voice almost startled him.

“What? The stupid christmas movie?”

She nodded fervently while still chewing. Kenny shook his head and went back to the channel playing a movie - what seemed to be one of those holiday rom coms.

“I thought you hated romcoms,” Kenny commented.

“I do”

Kenny had learned early on that pregnancy made Kuchel even weirder. From the moment she found out the unexpected demon spawn in her uterus, she had weird cravings (not only for food, there were a few weeks she could only sleep by watching animal documentaries). He learned to not question after a while, it kept things easy to handle.

“Do you think family Christmas dinners are always like that?” she pointed her fork at the tv “It seems so inaccurate”

Kenny shrugged. Still focused on his plate.

“Well, it doesn’t snow here in december so safe to say it might not be so accurate” his sister concluded on her own.

They kept eating in silence and the movie proved to be just as stupid as it promised, though he heard sniffling behind him. Now, if there is something Kenny learned ever since he and his sister finally left the foster system to live together was that you don’t question her feelings - especially pregnant. He almost considered patting her on the shoulders in comfort but remembered she still had a good aim and her flip flops were right there, ready to be thrown.

“What a stupid movie” she mumbled.

He stood up, taking Kuchel’s plate and finally building courage to do the dishes despite his exhaustion. He heard his sister turn off the television and certain sounds indicated she was leaving her cocoon of blankets and pillows, grunting during the entire process.

“You okay there?” he asked while hanging the dishes to dry.

It was safe to say Kenny panicked a bit too often with Kuchel’s every display of discomfort - the nervousness of her due date always on the back of his mind. The young man was not feeling prepared at all for the big day even with his sister’s advice and thorough explanations of the process - although Kuchel herself was very new to this and also terrified despite not admitting.

“Yes Kenny, the boy isn’t coming out until next week. Relax…Uh!” she let out a shriek.

He hated her so much. Kenny ran to the living room, trying to see any signs of wetness indicating that the antichrist wanted out, instead he found his sister peering down at his phone - which was silently vibrating with a call.

“It’s your loverboy” she smiled at him like the little shit that she was “pick it up or I will”

“He isn’t-” he sighed, giving up this fruitless conversation they always had and picking up the phone.

“Hello” Kenny answered.

“Good evening, Kenny, is it bad timing?”

“No, not at all!” He dried his hands on his beat up jeans, Kuchel waving crazily in front of him.

“Great! I just wanted to call because I thought a message felt a bit too distant. I know you said you don’t celebrate Christmas, but I just wanted to wish you and Kuchel a special good night’s rest.”

The noises on the background indicated Uri, his neighbor, was probably at a family gathering at his family home, Kenny could hear loud voices and holiday music playing softly.

“Thank you Uri, we appreciate it”

Kuchel was staring at Kenny so intensely he felt a hole on his forehead, her insistent mouthing of “Can I talk to him?” “Let me talk to him!!”, distracting the man.

“In fact, she is right here dying to talk to you”

Uri laughed - a pretty sound that was - and asked to talk to Kuchel.

“Hey Uri! I haven’t seen you today but I wish you a wonderful christmas” His sister beamed at the cellphone.

She talked shortly to the other man, thanking Uri for the well wishes. Kenny was grateful his sister did not try to embarrass him this time - he had enough of her hinting to Uri that Kenny had a slight (giant) crush on the Reiss man.

“Your sister is a lovely woman. I’ll bring some food for you two when I head home”

“Nah, It’s okay, Uri. No need”

“No, I insist Kenny. We have plenty of food here anyway and I know you’ve been working a lot lately. At least we keep Kuchel with a sustainable meal to eat when you’re not home tomorrow”

“You convinced me, but don’t come crying to me when she forces you to have dinner with us and show you the same ultrasound pictures again” Kenny said, chuckling.

To that Kuchel raised her middle finger, mouthing a “fuck you, Kenny”

“Nothing more wonderful than spending the evening with Ackermans” Uri chuckled - what a pretty sound “I have to go, Frieda is looking at me like I am committing a crime, but I see the two of you soon”

They said their goodbyes and the call went off, Kenny’s heart was doing strange jumps on his ribcage - he was down bad for that man. Kuchel was sitting on the couch, smiling like a mad woman and clapping her hands.

“Not a word” he warned her.

“For the love of god, Kenny, ask that man on a date!”

He ignored her while heading for a shower, if he let Kuchel speak about Uri he would probably end up dealing with feeling he was too tired to process. Kenny preferred to like Uri from a distance - just being neighbors that got along well. His sister constantly telling him the Reiss man was into him did not help at all.

“Not only is he clearly interested, but he is so kind and patient, Ken! Give the poor man a little chance” she would say.

Kenny tried not to think about it, failing miserably though. He had many opportunities to meet Uri on a more romantic level, the man had invited him for coffee so many times and Kenny always refused politely. He was afraid, Uri did not know the mess he was in the head. And the worst part: Uri was really patient and understanding and respectful and observant…Kenny had a problem.

“I’m gonna sleep” Kenny knocked on his sister’s room “need anything else?”

“No! Everything okay. You should sleep, Ken”

He wished her a good night and flopped into his bed, slumber quickly taking him.

He never had dreams, only nightmares or an empty sleep. That night though, he dreamed about him and Kuchel sitting on a huge table full of food. His sister had a nice elegant red dress, contrasting with her long dark hair. Kenny himself looked down to see a nice set of pants and button up shirt. The decorations screamed Christmas - there was even snow outside!- but what surprised him was seeing Uri beside him, equally well dressed…with a baby in his arms. The small little human seemed to be pushing one year old, almost pink in color, pouty face, dark hair, looking at Kenny with light colored eyes.

“You want your uncle, little one?” Uri said, bouncing the child slightly.

As if he had no control, Kenny felt his arms reach out to the baby, his voice coming out in equal involuntary action.

“I know, I’m your favorite” his voice sounded…happy. Not that he was against having a nephew, he just struggled to have a connection with someone he had never met. But in that moment, looking at light blue eyes, he wondered if he could measure how dear that boy was.

“Typical of Levi to prefer the one who calls him demon spawn” Kuchel said.

The dream faded slowly, with the last scenes of a baby on his lap while they celebrated Christmas just like that stupid movie they were watching. He woke up feeling a strange sense of missing something. Of sadness. He stayed in bed for longer than usual, wondering why he dreamed of that. His only family was Kuchel for as long as he remembers, everything different than that seemed terrifying.

The boy seemed so real. What about Uri? Could he ever be anything more than a friendly neighbor?

Deciding that he can’t afford having an existential crisis, the man finally decided to start his routine, but early morning finally came to test Kenny's bowels. As soon as he saw Kuchel enter the kitchen, seemingly uncomfortable and walking weirdly, he panicked once again.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Kenny asked again - to his own demise.

“Kenny!” His sister warned him.

“I’m just worried, you seem to be hurting quite a lot”

Kuchel looked at him unimpressed, not answering. She had woken up that morning complaining of a few contractions.

“It’s probably false alarm, Kenny, but it still sucks”

Kenny was in a full pit of anxiety at that point. Everytime she had a false alarm he panicked anyway, a single sneeze and that spawn would pop out of her. He didn't think she would make it to an entire week.

“I’m gonna try and call your doctor again”

Kenny tried once again the number, without success.

“We should go to the hospital, Kuch” he tried again to convince her.

“No! They’re just going to send us home again, let’s see if it progresses and then we go”

Kenny was honestly tired, and scared, but he nodded. It took several minutes for Kuchel to finally convince him to go to work for at least the morning shift, but he was not able to concentrate well. He checked her text messages constantly, alongside Uri’s.

Uri Reiss Neighbor: I’m with her, if anything happens I’ll rush her to the hospital

You: Thanks Uri, I promise I’ll be back by 2pm since it’s Xmas day

Uri Reiss Neighbor: No need to thank me, see you soon. I’m making lunch if that’s okay.

That man was a fucking saint. Kenny was down bad. He had to concentrate while trying not to fall in love with that man or dying of worry for his sister. Work was haphazardly done, Kenny practically breaking traffic laws to go home, practically climbing the stairs to his apartment floor, thinking he would have to immediately rush her to a hospital for the antichrist to be born…just to find Uri and Kuchel sitting quietly on the dinner table, tea in front of them and a deck of cards.

“Good afternoon, Kenny” Reiss greeted him.

“Hi, Ken”

Kenny looked at his sister with confusion. She seemed composed and calm. Uri - as always - was well dressed, smelling like a hundred yards of soft flowers, calmly playing with Kuchel.

“The contraction stopped as soon as you left” she said, pointing to her huge stomach “maybe he doesn’t like you”

Kenny groaned, sitting on the couch to catch his breath.

“Demon spawn” he mumbled, smiling discreetly.

Kuchel turned, burning him with her eyes.

“He is a perfect little angel”

That was another bickering Kenny did not want to continue so he just surrendered. But he was a demon child! Anything born from an Ackerman was demonic - Kenny was an absolute nightmare as a kid and he was already dreading that baby.

“Hungry?” Uri asked “There is a plate for you in the microwave”

His noisy stomach answered for him, guiding his already tired self to the kitchen. The food was probably from the family dinner Uri went to last night, good quality meat and tasty sauce. He wondered if he could reproduce that recipe one day and maybe make a special dinner after the baby was born. He ate on the table while watching his sister and Uri play with the cards, attentively listening to Kuchel's gossip of the apartment complex group chat. She was bored to death most days, watching people from the balcony and stalking the chat seemed to be the entertainment of the century.

“It’s okay, Uri, now that Kenny is here he can keep an eye on me” his sister said once Uri hesitated to return to his family’s home.

“I’ll return tomorrow morning. My mother really insisted that I return to the church’s dinner tonight but if anything happens you can call me” he assured the Ackerman siblings before reluctantly leaving.

“He is such a nice man” Kuchel quietly said once Kenny had closed the door “I know I bother you with it, but I really think he would be a good match”

Kenny smiled a little, sitting beside his sister on the couch and softly shoving her with his shoulder.

“I know, but I really don’t feel ready right now”

Love was not something he thought was possible. Not for him, much like it wasn't for his sister. He felt her hand on his forearm, rubbing him softly.

“I know, take your time” she said in a hushed tone “like I said, he is a very patient man”

Her calm features soon contorted into painful ones. She let a long breath out.

“Another contraction?” he asked.

She nodded, breathing in and out in a slow rhythm.

“It never really stopped, but I did not want to alarm any of you until I was sure it was constant”

“Kuchel! What the actual fuck-”

“Shhhhh” she said “don’t scold me! I am counting them and I can’t do this if both of you keep hovering over me”

Kenny groaned, visualizing himself shaving her hair bald as revenge for the rollercoaster of worry he felt.

“Do you think it’s for real?” he asked her.

Kuchel nodded, holding his forearm strongly.

“I’m scared” she whispered “I don’t know if I can do this, Ken”

Despite his anxiety, he tried to comfort her by holding her shoulders in a strange side hug - typical of a touch terrified Kenny. She rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’ll be with you, Kuch”

And he did. When her contractions became too unbearable and close timing, they left for the hospital in the midst of a starting rain. The streets were calm since it was late at night, everyone most likely at the churches celebrating the holiday.

“Ma’am, my sister is giving birth” he had told the woman at the front desk.

“No father, I’m the one taking care of her” he told the social worker registering the appointment.

“Can you call another doctor then?” he almost yelled when they informed her doctor was MIA.

“Can anyone please check on her for god’s sake?!” he tried to stay calm when nobody would check on his sister when her water broke.

It was a turbulent three hours, time bringing a raging storm that occasionally painted the sky with lightning and thunder. When Kuchel was finally checked on, she was fully ready to push. Kenny was a strong man, but he wanted to die with every scream coming out of his sister’s throat. His hand was still, only because of the iron grip she had on it, otherwise he would be trembling. When the cry of a baby finally broke the room’s chaos, Kenny thought he had lost his hearing. Everything had gone muffled and fuzzy. He did not know, but later the nurses told him that he was almost hyperventilating, still holding Kuchel’s hand despite his eyes losing focus.

“Look at him, Kenny” Kuchel was crying “he is so small”

The baby laying on her chest was nothing like the grown infant of his dream, in fact, that newborn was multiple shades of red and purple, scrunched face and tiny feet, limbs so thin they could be compared to the girth of Kenny’s fingers.

“Sir, breathe in and out, you’ll be fine” said a nurse nearby.

He kept his eyes on the small being, then at his sister. She was sweaty, exhausted and crying profusely. He wanted her cries to be only of happiness, but he knew she was just as terrified of this as he was. They were just two adults with a fucked up story, having to care for a non planned baby. He was barely 25 and had an entire human to watch out for - because he sure would not leave Kuchel to deal with this on her own.

“Welcome, spawn. I’m your uncle” he managed to choke out.

Kuchel laughed, more because of the drugs than actually finding the nickname funny. He spent the entire night watching over a sleeping sister and the baby in the bassinet. He admired as the storm raged in the first hours of the morning, the darkness still outside. His cellphone would occasionally ring with notifications.

Uri Reiss neighbor: I got stuck because of the rain, the streets are flooded. I’ll get there, I promise, but it might take a while. Tell me what I can bring to you or Kuchel.

He smiled at the phone, sending Uri his gratitude. Despite the chaos outside, he felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe it was the medication the nurses administered due to his mini anxiety attack, but he liked to think it was a sign that everything would be alright.

“How are you feeling?” said the slurred voice of Kuchel.

“I should be asking this”

“Well, I'm a bit high” she smiled “and you seem too”

He chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kuchel looked at the bassinet, warmth in her tired eyes.

“He is out…”

“On a holiday!” Kenny complemented “spawn made sure to be born at the same day of Jesus”

“Fuck you” she laughed “I think he came to force us to celebrate christmas day in a way or another”

Kenny nodded, not doubting for a moment that whatever ruled this world had a strange sense of humor.

“He was almost born on the 26th for just a few minutes” he said “he was determined”

The Ackerman siblings kept the comfortable silence, Kuchel not taking her eyes off the sleeping baby nearby.

“Kenny”

“Hm?”

He looked at her tired eyes, Kenny realizing they were so similar to the baby of his dream.

“I don’t have a name for him”

“You were never satisfied with the thousand names you picked” he replied.

“Maybe something with a ‘K’? To match us” she said.

“That’s horrendous, Kuchel!” he protested “Me and you having a name with a ‘K’ is already atrocious enough”

“You’re right…” she said “I want something that doesn’t come from parents we barely knew”

Kenny deliberated if he should tell her about the name of his dream. Levi…he remembered something about that name in bible study he was forced into by the orphanage. It meant something specific, meant-

“Connection”

Kuchel eyed him as if he had lost his mind.

“Kenny, if this is your suggestion-”

“No, woman, listen!” he interrupted “I mean that he is connected to us only. Your kid, my nephew, nothing else”

“Well, that’s true”

“And Levi means connected, joined” He finally said it.

Kuchel pondered for a moment, analyzing the name by looking at the child’s sleeping shape.

“A biblical name, right? I remember it from church” Kuchel said.

“It’s just a suggestion-”

“I like it” she interrupted this time “Levi. It sounds firm, strong”

She smiled, as if contemplating calling him that for the rest of his life. Kenny thought she would put up a fight - for being the one to carry for months and not choosing the name.

“Levi it is” she concluded.

Kenny nodded, happy that she liked it. He did not know if his dream was prophetic or just an amalgamation of anxiety and nine months of constantly thinking about this other being in their lives.

“Can I ask you something really important?”

He nodded.

“He was born on Christmas” she began “I know we never really liked this day because of all the family bullshit, but now…”

He understood. They were bitter people, but that kid had nothing to do with it.

“We’re gonna give him the Christmas we never had, right Kenny?”

#kenny ackerman #kenny #kuchel ackerman #uri reiss #kenuri #kenny x uri #levi ackerman #levi

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delta-pavonis · 8 months ago

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Last 10 Fics/Writing Patterns meme + Last First Line Tag Game

First the writing patterns meme, which is such a cool idea! I was tagged by @teejaystumbles! Thank yoooou.

Rules: Post the first lines of your last ten fics posted to AO3 (Sort by date posted), AND see if there's a pattern!

By last updated date:

3 March 2024: Quaternion

KLOT DOD-DOT The knock of the twisted iron ring against its plate on the outside of his library door startles King Morpheus from his reverie. He is supposed to be notating one of the histories of the Moirai, the so-called Three Sisters of Fate, who have ruled the island nation of Ananke with brutal efficiency since seemingly time immemorial. Their ships have been seen too often in view of his coastline of late and he needs to be prepared for whatever their intentions are.

15 February 2024: you might be the answer to the sinner in me

“Hob, are you alright?” Hob’s shoulders tighten and his spine goes ramrod straight. It is the family holiday dinner and he is out on the back patio in the cold, staring at the over-manicured hedgerows that make up one of the distant property lines. He left to have space to pull out his vape pen and take a hit because that is probably the only way that he is going to get through the night.

16 January 2024: Placebo Effect

“You should just DM him,” Desire is studying their nails, the dark red of dried blood, while reclining on a chaise in the living room of their oldest sister’s condo. “My kingdom for anything that might throw Dearest Mumsie and Popsicle off your trail for an evening. I don’t think I can endure another holiday of it.” They sprawl, letting their head loll backwards over the armrest, to look at Dream almost upside down. “What say you big brother?”

6 January 2024: show me who I am

Hob taps his fingers on the table next to the map of Northern Ireland and takes a sip from his glass of shiraz. “I think this is it. This is the plan. We’ve got it. Anyone see something we missed?” He looks around the table at each person in turn, waiting for a response.

1 January 2024: Another Song

Shunk ka-thunkszzzz. The lights in the entire loft go out. “What the FUCK?” Matthew’s voice smacks into Dream despite the thick panels of wood between them.

30 December 2023: Thoughts on the Roman Empire (and Other Pickup Lines)

“You know, I think this whole meme going around about men thinking about the Roman Empire is great!” Hob smiles at the ceiling as he leans back in his chair, balancing it on its back legs, propping his feet up on the table in the private library study room. He doesn't need to look at Morpheus to know that the grad student is giving him a withering glare, or perhaps not looking at him at all. “First off, people are discussing history! Second, some of the jokes are actually solid gold. Like I saw one that just murdered me in broad daylight. Wanna hear it?”

21 December 2023: Levade

“Oh fuck Dream,” Hob writhes in his bonds. “You said you wanted more did you not?” The centaur smirks. “I am simply acquiescing to your request.”

15 December 2023: You create me against your lips

The first time Hob sees Dream is when the latter has the audacity to enter the Morningstar's realm. He watches as the Dream King intimidates Squatterbloat into bringing him to the Palace. The demon is stupid and gullible, easily swayed, and Hob has a mind to bury his morningstar in the moron's fleshy head, but he would rather observe the visitor and his raven from the shadows.

9 December 2023: where I'm supposed to be

For all that he shares a given name with the God of Sleep, has a nickname of Dream, he has only experienced lucid dreaming rarely. Once, maybe twice, before. But. He knows he is dreaming right now.

26 November 2023: Venus conjunct Saturn

“Show me, Hob.” Dream purrs in a way he knows will make his lover shiver. “Show me how she pleasured you.” He is laid beneath Hob, who is on all fours above him, and the only cloth they have is the sheets upon their bed here in the Dreaming.

Other than 30% of those fics having titles from Maneskin lyrics... apparently I like to start with sounds or dialog. Some in medias res beginnings in there, too. Huh. Fascinating.

And, just for fun, here are the FIRST few lines paragraphs of the finished fic I have on deck, a sequel to A Change in Tactics (published in October 2022!)... (originally I was tagged in a last lines tag game by @amielot!)

“We have to stop meeting like this!” Hob laughed as he broke the barstool in his hands over the head and shoulders of another patron of the White Horse Inn. Said patron had just previously been trying to stab Hob with a shard of wine bottle so he most decidedly deserved it. Hob pulled a chunk of wood from where it had lodged in his palm and frowned at the blood that welled up there. A crash to his left stole his attention. “Ope. Watch out Lou!” Lou ducked the tankard aimed at her head with all the sliding fluid grace of one well-acquainted with being deep in her cups. She didn’t spill a single drop of her own ale as she backed around the bar and out of the Inn through the alleyway door. Lou may have been part of starting this fight, but she clearly had no intention of finishing it. Which was just fine by Hob. Lou didn’t deserve to be in hospital any more than absolutely necessary. She had enough going on, as Hob had just learned. Speaking of his mysterious friend… Hob flung his sweaty hair out of his eyes in time to watch Dream elegantly sidestep the brawler charging him like they were a pair in some courtly dance. The beautiful bastard hadn’t even moved his hands from where they were clasped at the small of his back, while his opponent had gone headlong into a wooden pillar. “This only happens when I join you here, Hob.” One loping step over the fallen man and Dream was back at Hob’s side. (Graceful twat.) “This type of violence is notably absent when you visit my Realm.” (Double the twat on that one.)

I tag... everyone who has a springtime birthday.

#Dreamling #learn about Pavonis #Pavonis writes #writing meme #tag game

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domina-honoribila · 3 months ago

Note

I don't intend to start an argument with you, I only wanted to tell you this genuinely from one Christian to another, and you can take it however you want (I am not expecting a response either so you don't have to publish this). To be frank it is a little hurtful and disappointing to see a faithful Catholic engaging with that post about foreign cultures and Halloween. I celebrate Halloween primarily as All Hallow's Eve because I am a Catholic, and to some extent as a silly cultural holiday because I am someone who lives in a culture where it's an opportunity to have fun with your community. But I'm also someone who is of non-white descent and I do participate in some foreign cultural elements to bond with my family and honor my ancestors—nothing religious, but it does include things like our traditional cultural dress, and it is important to me that people respect the history and significance and don't treat it as a frivolous costume (not to say that nobody else can wear it, just maybe not as a cheap novelty toy or mockery). Catholicism does include people from all around the world, even if we aren't the majority. And I understand people's frustration with immigrants who do little to contribute or assimilate with Western nations, but the reality is that nowadays there are also many of us who were born and raised here and mostly only retain superficial or ceremonial ties to our ancestral nations. I may be mistaken for someone who just landed with a visa yesterday but English is my preferred language and I'm most used to and loyal to America. All this to say, I'm not trying to fight with you and call you a racist or whatever, but I just wanted to ask you to consider reflecting about it because I have known people who feel ostracized from Christianity because they have met people who acted like it was a white religion for white people, or like they won't be treated with respect if they convert. Our attitudes as Christians speak volumes, you know? No need to go full DEI about it but posts like that give off the message of judging people only on their appearance and of other races being inferior, and it could cause scandal. God bless :)

Halloween is a Christian holiday, like Christmas or Easter. I have no patience for anyone who isn't Christian celebrating it for any reason. I don't care what race you are, if you aren't Christian, you can't have our stuff and do whatever you want with it. I take issue with people who come to historically Christian nations and treat Christian things built by Christians to practice Christianity like those things are public property. Christians built western civilization, we didn't find it on the ground. Not everyone is entitled to it, and if you want to be a part of Christendom, CONVERT.

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orangeispice · 10 months ago

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Sindy’s Underrated Spider-Man Fic Recs 1/2

All fics on this list are completed unless stated otherwise :D

Contains comic fic recs (616 and 1610), Spider-Verse, Insomniac-Verse, TASM, Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends, Spectacular Spider-Man, and Ultimate Spider-Man (2012)

95% of these fics are underrated, there might be one or two popular ones that snuck in haha

Family

Some of these have ships, but the romance takes second seat to the familial bonds 😀

Spiderbros + Teresa

frame the halves and call them brothers - Traincat - Spider-Man (Comicverse) [Archive of Our Own]

This fic doesn’t have Peter in it, but it has Kaine, Janine, Ben (Reilly) and BABY REILLY TYNE who’s the most adorable bean ever, so I’m morally obligated to include it on the list. Seriously. Traincat is awesome, and their Spideytorch characterization is on point.

Carry You Home - Crewe - Spider-Man (Comicverse) [Archive of Our Own]

Honestly, blanket fic for literally everything written by Crewe. “Peter, desperate for a way to get Ben back to his old self in the wake of the Chasm fiasco, calls in a reluctant Kaine - and less reluctant Aracely - to help. Luckily, they might be just the thing he needs.” This is the clone bros fix-it fic that we all need. Marvel, I hope you’re taking lessons.

The Transitive Property - Crewe - Spider-Man (Comicverse) [Archive of Our Own]

AKA Teresa and Kaine bonding over Peter’s idiocy, and also taking down a weapons ring.

Insomniac

The Only Cat Who Knows Where It's At - Traincat - Spider-Man (Video Game 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Insomniac peterfel! “Three generations of Hardys show up at Peter's window,” this is the peterfel kid fic you’ve all subconsciously wanted to read after finishing the Heist DLC. Baby Walter is so cute. I think I just have a thing for adorable spider-powered children, probably.

these days of dust - momentofmemory - Spider-Man - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Be prepared to have a bucket on hand so you can cry your heart out. Insomniac May reflecting on the fact she KNOWS Peter is Spider-Man.

two weeks away, feels like the whole world should have changed (but i'm home now) - TheSoulOfAStrawberry - Spider-Man - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Insomniac-verse. Miles is grieving for Phin, and Peter is there to lend a shoulder, knowing all too well the perils of loved ones getting involved in vigilantism, still grieving for May himself.

Miscellaneous

The Long, Dark Pizza Slice of the Soul - Chapter 1 - thelastfrenchfry (automateddetour) - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

This one’s a double whammy: we got a combo of movie AND comic Spider-Verse! Insight into how Peter and MJ might have gotten back together; the interactions and romance are so lovely. Also, Gayle (MJ’s sister) is here, and I love her.

and desolation comes upon the sky - milknova - Fantastic Four (Comicverse) [Archive of Our Own]

If you love angst, this is for you. Sue Storm centric, reflecting on Johnny’s death, showing how Peter grieves for a relationship that barely had time to begin.

Gen

Initiation Rites - yellow_caballero - X-Men - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

This is genuinely one of the funniest fics I’ve ever read. Seriously. We have the comedic Peter Parker-Kitty Pryde friendship. The summary is literally “Peter and Kitty just wanted to get wasted on vodka and pass out in order to deal with the holiday stress. But when Peter ends up having to assimilate into the X-Men household to escape the red-tinted glasses of the law, it becomes increasingly difficult to leave. Or, Peter and Kitty accidentally get drunk, get adopted, get panicked, and get in trouble.”

The Spaces We Share - natcat5 - Spider-Man (Ultimateverse) [Archive of Our Own]

Ult-comic verse! Basically, Peter going from an only child to having a girlfriend and four asshole pseudo-siblings.

Spider’s Out of the Bag - ShimmeringBubble (orphan_account) - Spider-Man (Video Games 2018-2020) [Archive of Our Own]

Insomniac! Miles starts purring and freaks out. Luckily, Peter is there to explain that no, it’s not that weird, and yes, he can do it too. Fluff will give you cavities.

Respectability, Politics - brawltogethernow - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

This one isn’t completely underrated, but it’s probably in my top three favourite Spider-Man fanfictions, so I have to include it here. Basically, just JJJ screaming his ass off at mutant phobic bigots while Betty, Peter, and Robbie silently die laughing in the corner.

investigative journalism - Chapter 1 - LostOnMyRoad - Spider-Man - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Another Daily Bugle fic! Peter is not fooling anyone around here, least of all Betty Brant.

Red Threads and Corkboards - Anonymous - Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012) [Archive of Our Own]

This one is set in the timeline of the Ult cartoon. Listen, I know the fandom collectively dumps on this cartoon, but it does have its moments. This fanfic features MJ, Harry and Flash having the right idea about Peter’s perpetual lying, but the wrong conclusion.

message me if you have any more fics you'd like to see recommended (part two is coming with more shippy fills) and show these authors some love!!

#spiderman #peter parker #marvel comics #spiderbros #fic recs #fanfiction #gen fics

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sp00kycrumpet · 1 year ago

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Paradise. (4/10)

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Rating: E

Tags: Javi is baby, fluff, holiday romance, Nick Cage is Nick Cage, reader is bilingual

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Working as Nicholas Cage's personal assistant was your favourite job; so when he asked you to accompany him to Mallorca for this birthday party he'd been invited to, you were more than happy to go. What you didn't anticipate was the host himself.

Will also be posted on my AO3

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

When you awoke the next morning, you felt like you were on Cloud Nine. You'd not been in such a good mood in so long and it felt so nice. You got dressed and ready for the day before heading out, you went to Nick's room first to check in on him after his surprise announcement only to find he wasn't there. You frowned a little and moved through the villa, listening out for any sounds. You found no one was here and it confused you. The garden had been cleaned up in the night and, after speaking with one of the security guys - you learnt Gabriela was out running errands while Javi had taken Nick into town to write. You felt a frown work over your face at being left alone, wondering how early everyone must have left.

You thanked the guy before moving into the kitchen to fix yourself a mug of tea. You grabbed some fruit and headed outside, sitting at the edge of the pool with your feet in the warm water while you drank and tried to pick through your thoughts of the night before. Trying to focus on Nick and his behaviour but your brain just kept replaying that kiss from Javi and how he'd been about to say something when Gabriela interrupted. You called home to let your mom know you'd be staying a little while longer, asking her to please remember to water your plants since you had no idea how long Nick wanted to stay. She lamented that she wished she could have a job that meant she was getting paid to lounge around a Billionaires home in Mallorca. You then called Richard to let him know what was unfolding, Richard admitted he'd had Javi's screenplay to hand when you'd arrived in Mallorca but had thrown it in the trash. You sighed and told him Nick wouldn't be happy about that. Richard told you to just enjoy the trip and bring Nick home in one piece before hanging up. Sometimes that man couldn't see past working endlessly. Although it was his idea for you and Nick to agree to be here to begin with.

You went back to your room to get your laptop after a few hours, deciding you should probably do some work as well. As you walked through the villa, you spotted Javi's car pulling up - Nick driving and Javi fast asleep in the passenger seat. You smiled softly, amused at the bond the two of them seemed to be building. Although you wondered if they'd done any writing or just gone drinking instead. You set up on the veranda with some fruit juice and lunch, answering emails and seeing what requests had been sent through for Nick or any updates from his business manager. You knew Nick was needing to find somewhere to live once you got home, he'd let that slip on the flight over so you'd signed up for property alerts and flicked through a few of them. Your work momentum was broken by a door opening and closing behind you, part of you hoping it was Javi. You looked over your shoulder and saw Nick coming out, looking a little tired.

"Hey, good day writing?" You asked with a smile, Nick coming to sit across from you with a non-commital hum.

"We tossed a few ideas around and got a few basics outlined. We're thinking of writing a movie about Javi and I, so it should be interesting and easy to write really." He nodded, helping himself to some fruit from your plate. You smiled brightly at him.

"That's amazing Nick! I'm so happy!" You reached over to squeeze his hand, Nick nodding with a small hum in his throat.

"Listen, I need to go into town for a bit. Think you can distract Javi for a few hours?" You perked one eyebrow at the request.

"You just got back though?" Nick nodded, leaning forward.

"I gotta go meet someone but it's a surprise so you can't tell him. I should only be there for two hours or so." You tilted your head a little, studying Nick. Only a few nights ago he was warning you to be careful and now he needed you to actively spend time with Javi.

"Sure. I can think of something." Nick drummed his fingers over the table.

"Ask him about the room with the mirrored door, he'll love that." Nick snorted softly, pushing himself up and giving you a one armed hug before heading out. You watched him go before shaking your head and finishing what you were doing. You dropped your laptop into your room then headed to find Javi. Eventually spotting him on the couch in the living room, scribbling notes in a notebook with a soft frown of concentration on his face. You smiled to yourself, watching him for a moment, he looked so handsome and you couldn't help but indulge in admiring him. To avoid being caught staring, you knocked gently on the door. Javi looked up, his eyes wide with surprise before a smile broke out over his face and he said your name. You could hear him say it over and over, it sounded so lovely in his voice.

"I hope I'm not interrupting, just wondering if you wanted some company." You smiled, Javi waving you into the room.

"No, it's fine! I'm just making some notes so I don't forget what we came up with today." He smiled, looking back at his notes before adding a couple of bits.

"I was surprised to wake up and find the whole house empty!" You chuckled, sitting down beside Javi.

"Ah sorry, I was going to see if you were wanting to come into town with us but… we took LSD and just went." You leaned back in surprise, staring at Javi.

"You're joking, right?" Javi just gave you a grin in response, shaking his head.

"It was incredible! Chaotic but funny and I think my shoulder is bruised from when we tried to climb over a wall which… ultimately I ended up just walking around." You watched Javi for a moment before you burst out laughing.

"Oh man, I'm sad I missed that!" Javi gave you a grin as he nodded then added something else to his page before putting it aside so he could give you his full attention.

"How was your day?" You shrugged a little, leaning back in the seat with a hum.

"Quiet. I did some work, lounged by the pool for a bit. I feel bad I'm supposed to be working but I've just had a vacation." Javi smiled, shaking his head.

"Sometimes you have to allow yourself time to relax and enjoy the day." He nodded, glancing at his watch before putting his notes aside. "What would you like to do?" You thought about it for a moment before a grin worked over your face.

"Well Nick did mention something about that big fancy mirrored door…"

Javi had almost been reluctant at first, muttering something under his breath about Nick trying to kill him before he agreed to show you.

"It didn't freak him out so hopefully it won't freak you out." He said as he unlocked the fancy looking door.

"I did see this on our first day, I didn't realise it was a door. I assumed it was some aesthetic thing since you didn't strike me as a vain man wanting to see himself constantly." Javi chuckled softly and held the door open for you, letting you enter first as he reached to flick the lights on. As soon as you saw the National Treasure poster at the bottom of the stairs, you knew what this was. Javi's treasure trove of Nicholas Cage memorabilia. You couldn't help the little chuckle in your throat as you entered the room and saw the collection of props, scripts and other various items. You had to laugh as you spotted the sequin pillow though.

"Oh my god I bought him one of these! He then 'accidentally' forgot it at mine and never came back for it." You chuckled, your fingers gently touching the sequins. Javi laughed, watching you.

"Yeah he doesn't like it. He tried to mess up the sequins." You looked over your shoulder at him, his nervousness was finally receding and you could see the sparkle of joy in his eyes as he finally began proudly showing off his collection. You followed him around the room as he told stories of the movies in correlation to his life or how he'd managed to attain the props. He practically bounced with excitement, you just smiled warmly. You were absolutely enamoured with this man, the collection was impressive but his passion even moreso. You kept asking questions and wanted to know more, there was something endearing about watching someone speak so passionately about something that meant so much to them. The wax figure was a little unnerving but Javi just breezed past it to show you the library of movies.

"Javi, you know you can get most of these digitally now, right?" You smiled as Javi just shrugged.

"I like to own physical things. It makes it feel more real and sort of special to add to the collection." You nodded, you understood. Even with Spotify and other streaming services, you still collected physical albums of your favourite artists. You moved to perch on the arm of the couch, watching Javi.

"So what will you add to your collection now you're actually making a Nick Cage movie? I feel like you'll need a whole shelf for all your drafts, notes and everything!" Javi tilted his head a little, eyes wandering the room as he thought it through.

"Maybe I'll do that. Get a big glass case and fill it with photos of this week, scripts and whatever props come from the movie!" He beamed, you nodded and watched him.

"Maybe I should get a photo and an autograph now before you're too busy for me." You teased, Javi shaking his head.

"That would never happen but I am happy to take photos with you." He grinned, you smiled and tugged your phone out of your pocket. You opened the camera and motioned for Javi to come closer. He stood beside you with an arm around your shoulders and his head resting against yours as he gave that beautiful smile. You almost forgot to take the photo as you admired his image on the screen. You snapped a couple of pictures before checking them.

"Perfect. I'll keep them safe so I can say I knew you before you were world famous." Javi chuckled and nudged you gently.

"You say that like I'm going to be some huge star." You watched him for a moment before shaking your head as you put your phone away.

"I've got a good feeling about this Javi." You said, patting his hand. He glanced over at you, gaze soft as he smiled. The two of you seemed to just stay like that for a moment before he cleared his throat and suddenly started talking about something he'd not had a chance to show you yet. You could feel your heart racing, trying to work out what that look he gave you meant. The two of you stayed in that room for a little while before heading back out to find something to eat.

Nick was back by the time you made it to the kitchen, Javi instantly asking Nick if he had any more ideas. You figured you'd leave them to work, Javi almost pouting as you announced your departure before Nick got his attention again and they were off again.

(Part Five)

#no use of y/n #pedro pascal #javi g x you #javi x you #javi g x reader #javi #javier gutierrez #the unbearable weight of massive talent

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diddle-riddle · 2 years ago

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Loving Shadows

[Or, I wanted to make Edward a legit Sphinx again in an AU of mine] . . .

Lord Bruce Wayne frowned, perplexed.

What was his beloved winged cat doing with... this?

Eddie opted for his favorite form, half-way through human and Sphinx hybrid: a pair of strong ginger wings reminiscent of an akepa's on his back, fluffy cat ears on top of his silky hair and an equally pumpkin orange tail that prolonged his spine.

He maintained human limbs for the rest, these are often more practical than when his appearance involves feline paws in place of legs and arms. The Sphinx controlled his transformation enough to look fully human when he needs to, including retracting the massive wings to go unnoticed whenever he ventures into cities to blend in among the mass.

When he was home however, he wouldn't think of concealing the featherly appendage.

When he was home with his allies.

Allies that never implied... this.

The Vampire perched on the edge of the leather couch in that living room to watch his friend (boyfriend? Ed and Bruce nurture a rocky relationship for centuries, they still haven't found a correct label to categorize their bond) being all joyous and enthusiastic, whilst he assembled a complex puzzle with the... creature settled on a cushion facing him.

An unusual, terrifying creature.

Edward had sat on the huge carpet covering the old wooden flooring, where he disposed a nest of fluffy pillows all around his frame. This is habitual in itself: his cat reflexes seek for soft, mellow surfaces to knead and take quality naps after his throat released intense, vibrating purrs.

Bruce will never stop finding everything about his acolyte plainly adorable.

Over the year, Wayne Manor hosts various fellow 'monsters' as humans renamed them. Almost like an hotel though this had never been the gothic residence's official title or function. The alive mansion simply... opens its gates to those who travel in the area and could use benefitting from a safe place to stay. Like... well yes, like an hotel.

At present they were just the two of them plus Alfred, the Fae attached to Wayne property. The house is protected by repulsive charms to hide from humans on top of being rooted at a fringe location surrounded by a private forest. Dick and Barbara, a lovely couple of Sirens who took holidays on the shore, left last week, after promising to return soon: they enjoyed their time in Gotham and in the Manor. Bruce and Ed loved them, they bonded with the Sirens and Eddie had a great time playing tour guide at their demand.

Hence... no client in their 'hotel' today.

Just Bruce, Alfred somewhere in the alive household, Edward and... that small blonde thing.

The little girl gasped when she suddenly noticed the Vampire, crouched motionless like an ancient gargoyle on the armrest. He stared at her with piercing metallic blue eyes, inside which permanently shone a red, ruby-colored sparkle.

"How long since you've been there?" She inquired, her own Caribbean blue eyes opened wide.

Bruce detected curiosity only in her gaze and within her whole attitude. Not an ounce of fear.

That's... not ordinary, to say the least.

"Don't mind him, being quiet and sneaking up on people is Bruce's guilty pleasure for over seven centuries," the Sphinx jested in a complicit manner. "He still thinks it's funny."

"It is funny," the Vampire declared in a laconic tone of voice.

"Brucie, let me introduce Stephanie Brown!" Eddie went on, grinning smugly, what discovered all his sharp white teeth. "Stephie, this is Bruce Wayne. The owner of the place."

"Nice meeting you, sir!" The kid smirked as well, what appeared almost... cute.

How old could she be? Five? Six? Bruce had never been good with kids, even less human ones. Either ways she seems to rely on a bright cleverness, maybe she was a bit ahead of her age.

That still didn't explain why Edward brought an alive human to Bruce's property. Had the Sphinx lost his mind?!

"Eddie," the Bat blamed him right away. "We need to talk."

Bruce had a feeling today will be a long day. ...................

Love it so far? Read the full story (it’s a 2k work divided in three short chapters, what you read there being the first chapter of the fic) here: Loving Shadows Don’t forget kudos and / or comments if you liked! Sending ya love & good vibes, thank you for reading ;)

#fanfiction #ao3 writer #riddlebat #edward nygma #edward nashton #riddler #the riddler #bruce wayne #batman #stephanie brown #Edward Nygma & Stephanie Brown #edward is a sphinx #bruce is a vampire #mysthical creatures #alternate universe #batfamily #batkids #fluff #feelings

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crimsonredrouge · 2 years ago

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Full Name: Renée Benard Lestat

Alias(s)/nicknames: Spy, Spook, Lestat, Ghost, Renny, Ren

Hometown: Adare, Ireland

Age: 38

Gender/Pronouns: Male, He/Him

Orientation: Unknown

Nationality: French/Irish

Personality: Renée is a VERY private person, preferring to keep to himself and in the back of the room 90% of the time. Of course, if there is a call to action, this individual is VERY eager to step up to bat. Unlike normal Spies, he is very protective over his teammates. After spending so long with them, he has created a bond with each of them. No matter how annoying, loud, boisterous, and conniving they all can be, he only wishes and hopes for the best in each and every one of them. Of course, he has a difficult time showing this, often being harshly critical or dismissive. Lestat does have attachment issues, going back to when his mother showed a high distaste for him due to him looking like his father. He knows EVERYONE, but if someone tries to get to know him, he becomes rather closed off, aggressive, or avoiding others. If someone manages to get past his walls and defenses, he is quite caring, loyal, and will do pretty much anything you need. Of course, this only comes if that someone has shown the same behaviors towards him. Betray him? Death will be the least of your worries. TLDR: Lestat is cold, standoffish, hypercritical, defensive, caring, protective, loyal, sly, calculated, and intelligent.

Likes: High-tier alcohols, velvet anything, fluffy pillows (also a secret), early morning hot tea, having a strict schedule, rainy days, getting a series of backstabs right, fancy suits, classical music, playing pool, eating meals with the team, long weekends at his lakeside property.

Dislikes: Sugary drinks/carbonated drinks of any kind, loud obnoxious music, bright colors, mentions of his relationship with his parents, hot climates, Pyros, being abandoned, not being cared about in return, children, smoking, having his mask off around others.

Height: 5’10

Weight: 138 lbs

Eye Color: Green/Blue

Hair Color: Redhead

Appearance: A rather skinny man with an athletic build, bright orange hair, facial hair he is very particular about, and a kind face.

Class: Spy

Team: RED

Counters: Anyone and everyone. If his disguises and backstabs go well, he can sweep the entire enemy team off their feet. Of course, the key phrase here is “goes well”. The Spy is capable of taking anyone off of their feet, so long as he dances the correct steps to the song. Classes he has an easier time countering are Medics, Heavies, Snipers and Engineers. These classes are found standing still or by themselves most of the time.

Countered by: Also anyone and everyone. If he bumps into someone, takes any form of damage, doesn’t disguise as the right person, comes in at the wrong moment, his entire existence becomes eradicated. With such a low health threshold, there isn’t a whole lot he can really take if he’s spotted. Classes that are hard counters for him are Pyro, a Heavy sporting a huo-long heater, and other spies. Sometimes, he can be countered by an Engineer with the short circuit.

Backstory: Renée was not raised in lavish commodities and high society. His mother was a common lady of the night in Ireland. She ended up getting together with a French soldier, visiting on holiday. They wed after a couple of years, and within a month of their marriage, his mother was pregnant with him. During her pregnancy, her relationship with the soldier became strained. He wanted to have fun, see the world, not be tied down to some common whore. Before he was even born, the soldier took off, returning to his life of fun and infidelity. This broke his mother, who had to give birth to him alone. She kept him, but he wishes she never had. Because he looked so much like his father, she was hateful towards him, nothing he did ever was enough for her.

This mistreatment translated into anger towards others in his life, becoming quite the problem child in the school system. Now, he was always top of his class, high grades and excellent work. Unfortunately, this was squandered by his constant assaults on other students. Renée was expelled his junior year, getting absolute hell from his mother for it. Eventually, he had become sick of his maltreatment, planning and calculating the death of his mother. It wasn’t long before he enacted this plan, killing her swiftly in her sleep. He took off that day, disappearing from the grid and going into assassin work. It felt good, getting his anger out on others. Unfortunately, that left him lonely, longing for a family he could call his own, others who would look out for him and his insecurities. Fortunately, his work had spread far enough to reach the interest of Redmond. RED team had been looking for the final piece to their well-rounded team, and Renée seemed like the perfect man for the job. Now he has a family of his own, and he’s willing to go to hell and back to keep it.

Skills: Balisong knife tricks, writing poetry, acting, silver tongue, piano and violin playing, painting, logic, impersonating, collecting information, singing (this is a secret)

Loadout: The sharp dresser, The Ambassador, Cloak and Dagger

Hobbies: Drawing/painting, playing music, reading, writing/reading poetry, drawing up gameplans, providing help wherever he can, wine-tasting, playing with cats, giving advice, keeping a folder on anyone he knows and the information he has on them.

Extra notes/Information about character: Renée does not smoke, has a scar across his nose, and an X scar across the backs of both of his hands. He also speaks fluent French, English and Gaelic.

#tf2 rp bio #tf2 rp #tf2 spy #tf2 spy rp bio #rp bio

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academiawho · 1 year ago

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90-Day Productivity Streak

29 Sep '23 - Day 11

I had to go to coaching despite it being a state holiday in Maharahstra today. A lot of people were absent and that somehow motivated the botany teacher to not cover much. Sir, maybe you could have pissed them off and punished them for just lazing at home? Mayhaps? Just an idea (yes I realize I sound bitter but the absentees were um... How do you put it.. kamchor)

We had a chemistry test on chemical bonding and I got 190/200 the genius that I am🌟

The roads were flooded on the way back home cz I love far away and I still feel like I'm moving (inertia you tricky lil trickster).

I completed some questions mechanical properties of solids and revised locomotion.

Hope your day went better than mine💛

#academiawho #studyblr #neet #ree manu streak #90 dop #30dopwithcleo

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satansapostle6 · 11 months ago

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folie à deux

Sometimes poison is sweet.

Selina Romanov and Draco Malfoy met when they were only eleven years old. The two of them have always shared an intense bond, always having gravitated towards one another. But the question still remains, as the years pass by, is their connection one of passion, or delusion?

Warnings: Contains Mature Themes/Language, Themes Such As Sexual Content, Violence, Abuse, Sexual Assault, Eating Disorders

Six.

The third letter that Jasper Carroll had written to Selina was lying on the desk in Draco's room, half read as she chased him around outside. They were running around together in the snow, taking turns chasing one another wildly, with no plans or specific intentions. They were playing freely like children again, laughing hysterically as Narcissa Malfoy watched them wistfully from inside. It had been a fairly pleasant visit at Malfoy Manor for Selina the past few days. She had spent all of her time being childish with Draco and enjoying the holidays, remembering to write to all of her friends occasionally. She'd exchanged a few letters with Jasper and Amana, updating each other on their lives over the vacation.

Dear Selina,

Glad to hear things are better. It must get awkward, staying with the Malfoys for an extended period of time. I get antsy spending a small amount of time with the one Malfoy I know. I think you'll be happy to know, my dad's only been as much of an arsehole as he normally is. He's just been getting drunk and singing Christmas carols by the fire after work. Mum says he's always gotten weird around the holidays since his mum died. I reckon she's right. Sometimes, in the dead of night, he sneaks downstairs to talk to her picture. Other nights, he sneaks downstairs to eat sausage. Dads are weird. I'm guessing you understand what I mean, although in a bit of a different way. My brother Jamie didn't come home for Christmas, so my mum and my brother Jordan have been a bit touchy the past week or so. It almost feels like they've forgotten I'm here. I kind of can't wait to go back to school. It's nice to be home for the holidays and not have to do much, but I miss being around friends. Let me know how things are going. Don't take too long— I might assume Malfoy's finally managed to wear you down.

Your Friend,

Jasper

Selina had laughed to herself when she received Jasper's letter, also appreciating his friendly thoughtfulness. She felt sorry for him feeling strange in his own home, knowing exactly what that felt like. She watched Draco as then ran around in the snow together, trying to see if she could detect any hint of that same sadness in him. For now, at least, he seemed placated. Nothing made him angry, or upset him too much since his fight with his father. Things seemed to have gotten better in the past few days, with Lucius Malfoy's behavior toward his son seeming more paternal and considerate, at least for Lucius Malfoy. But, the convenient thing about spending their time outside was that Selina and Draco didn't have to worry about anything to do with his parents, or anything like that. Selina and Draco spent hours just running around his family's property, playing like they were children again. Selina realized she felt more carefree than she ever had before, chasing Draco around on the snowy grass as they cackled with laughter.

"I'm coming to get you, Malfoy!" Selina announced as she ran up behind him.

They were taking turns running after one another, both of them trying to catch the other one. Draco kept turning back to look for Selina, chuckling as he raced ahead, hoping to outmaneuver her.

"Come on! You're fucking dead and you know it!" she screamed.

"Please! I think I can handle Slytherin's slowest Chaser!" he fired back.

She ran past one of the trees on the estate, only steps behind him. She could hear his laughter as he panted laboriously, gasping for air as he ran from her. Selina laughed as Draco suddenly tripped over a branch growing off of a root in the ground, falling flat on his back.

"Oh!" Draco grunted loudly, heaving a sigh as he reached for his back, trying to soothe the pain.

Selina couldn't move out of the way in time, slipping over his foot as hers got caught in his. She landed hard right on top of him, gasping as she tried to pull herself up off the ground. Selina and Draco laughed at each other's clumsiness as they both gave up on trying to stand, collapsing on each other in a fit of hysterical laughter. Selina was initially afraid she'd hurt Draco somehow by falling on him, but it was evident by his amused laughter that he'd hardly even noticed.

"Are you okay?!" he questioned nervously.

She had landed right above him, their faces less than a foot apart from one another as she steadied herself on her elbows. It was initially awkward how close they were. Selina was embarrassed, staring at him to try and gauge his reaction as he just stared back, no discernible emotion on his face. His expression was totally blank, as if he'd forgotten what he was doing altogether.

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm alright," she promised him, both of them afraid to move. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he stated awkwardly, still lying beneath her as he lightly held onto her waist, mortified, but still trying to make sure she didn't injure herself.

She hadn't noticed it before, but out in the cold, Draco's pale skin had a slight pink flush to it. Although he wore multiple layers and a hat to keep him warm, his face was still exposed, leaving his cheeks and nose slightly flushed pink. This ultimately was worsened by the embarrassment he was currently feeling. Selina was horribly aware that this was the closest she and Draco had ever been to one another. Their noses might as well have been touching at this point. She could see him up close, in a way that she hardly ever looked at anyone. She felt like could see everything, from the little strands of hair that framed his face, to the beautiful pattern of different hues in his blue eyes, to the softness of his lips. Selina of course knew exactly what Draco looked like, and could recognize when something was different, but she'd never actually looked at each individual piece of his face. It occurred to her that the exact combination of different features that were the make-up of his face were so much more complex than she'd ever stopped to think about. The longer she studied him, the more she realized that Draco Malfoy really was more than the sum of his parts, both physically and otherwise.

"I'm just gonna..."

"...Right," Draco nodded slowly, watching her as she rolled off of him to the side, grunting as she managed to get up.

He followed suit, brushing all of the snow off of him as he stood. Both of them seemed shell shocked, as if they couldn't figure out how to proceed from there. Uncomfortable with the silence, Draco rubbed his stomach as he complained, exaggerating about the pain of falling.

"Ow, you crushed my lungs!" he whined.

"Sorry," Selina muttered insincerely in response, "You're the one who tripped me," she argued.

"Let's just go inside," he murmured, still embarrassed.

"Why, because you lost?" Selina said in a cocky manner.

"Shut up," he hissed, waiting for her to walk ahead of him.

He knelt down, balling up a decent amount of snow with his gloved hands. After crafting a decent snowball, he pulled his arm back, getting a good aim at her before throwing it. The second she felt the snow hit her back, Selina froze in her tracks, a wide-eyed smile of disbelief spreading across her face. She turned around to see a grinning Draco standing in the middle of the snowy clearing. The smile on his face was silky and childish in nature, a smile that she knew meant everything was fine, at least in that moment.

"Fine, that's how you wanna play?" Selina decided. "Then, that's how we'll play."

She bent down to quickly make as many snowballs as she could with the utmost determination, silently enchanting them with her wand. The snowballs floated in the air, quickly becoming projectile as they followed Draco until they were able to be hurled into him.

"Hey! No magic! That's cheating!" he exclaimed.

"Says who?" she called, creating and enchanting more snowballs than Draco ever could have dodged.

She laughed loudly and heartily as she watched him stumbling about in the snow, failing to dodge all of the snowballs that were specifically enchanted to follow him.

"I hate you!" he screamed at her.

"Love you too!" she teased as she watched, more than satisfied with herself.

The way they'd spent the better part of that entire day playing around out in the snow like little children was healing and freeing for them both. After a few solid minutes of Draco begging her to, Selina slowly morphed into her raven form, towering above him as a big black bird as he watched her, trying to be quick enough to grab her out of the air. Needless to say, he wasn't. He'd laughed giddily, running around the grounds of the manor as he chased after Selina in her Animagus form.

"No fair!" he whined, looking up above as she flew at least three feet above his head, taunting him.

She squawked mockingly as she flew in frantic circles around him, wrapping around his head in laps over and over again hoping to make him dizzy. They went back inside together, getting out of the cold before it started to get dark. They dusted all of the snow off of themselves before entering Draco's family manor, laughing the whole time. It was time for dinner, and yet Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were nowhere to be found. Draco and Selina exchanged confused looks as they searched the living rooms, dining room, and kitchen, unable to find either of them. Draco had even resorted to asking the cook if he'd seen his mother, but even he had no idea where Mrs. Malfoy was. Draco and Selina headed up the stairs, trying to find his parents before dinner, which was about to be served. Not finding them in Lucius's study, they decided to look for them in their bedroom, the both of them stopping right in front of the door as they heard hushed voices yelling at one another.

"Do you honestly believe that?!"

Selina could hear Lucius yelling over Narcissa, who was certainly more quiet. She looked over at Draco, who seemed once again frozen as he listened to his parents arguing.

"Draco," Selina began compassionately, "Maybe we should—"

"Shhhh!"

She frowned, knowing he had already made up his mind.

"Yes, I do!" they heard Narcissa respond. "Draco is a very intelligent boy, and he—!"

"You coddle him," Lucius remarked with a crass scoff.

Selina's mouth sat slightly agape as she looked over at Draco, who seemed upset when he realized their marital spat was about him, and definitely not in a positive context.

"You've denied me just about every request I have when it comes to raising my son, and now he's turned out soft!" Draco's father exclaimed.

"He's my son as well," Narcissa's volume increased, "And I will not have him raised—"

"How?" Lucius asked impatiently. "The way we were raised?"

"Essentially, yes!" she answered.

"Why do you insist we live like hypocrites, allowing our son to be coddled and sheltered?" Lucius demanded.

"Because, I would rather we be hypocrites than expose our son to the same life that we used to live!" Narcissa Malfoy said firmly. "You can't honestly want your son to live with this...this... dark cloud looming over his head!"

Lucius was silent for a moment, as if knowing he was unable to answer her rhetorical question.

"Don't tell me you'd want your son to end up in Azkaban one day!" she went on. "We can't possibly let our son become the kind of wizard who bears that same mark!"

Selina looked at Draco, knowing exactly what their conversation was about.

"You mean we can't possibly let our son take after his father!" Lucius boomed.

"No! We can't!" Narcissa reminded him. "Thirteen years ago, you barely avoided Azkaban by telling the Ministry that you were acting under the influence of the Imperious Curse, now I highly doubt that that routine is going to work twice, when it just barely worked the first time!"

"You can't honestly be stupid enough to believe he's actually coming back!"

"You can't be stupid enough to believe that he won't find a way, eventually!" she pointed out. "You and I both know, the Dark Lord's return is imminent, and when that day comes, our son needs to be as far away from it as he can get! Lucius, you know that the Dark Lord will return, and if he does, all of us are in danger!"

Selina was highly uncomfortable as she overheard their conversation, knowing that Lord Voldemort's potential return was certainly a serious possibility that could not be ignored. Draco seemed genuinely afraid as he picked up on the many alarming concerns that his mother had.

"Do not change the subject, Narcissa!" Lucius snapped furiously. "When our son was born, I wanted him to attend Durmstrang, and you said no, so I allowed it. When I suggested we teach him the spells he really needs to know to defend himself, you said no again. When I suggested we give him a talk about what it is I do for this family, you said no, again! You have never respected my authority in this family, nor have you ever respected the many sacrifices I have for this family!"

"Don't be ridiculous, I am more than appreciative of the sacrifices you've made, but we both have made sacrifices for our son!" Narcissa yelled back at him. "You became a Death Eater, and you supported the Dark Lord's cause. You fought for what our families have believed in for thousands of years, but then, we lost the war, and you had to fight for your son to keep yourself out of Azkaban. It is because I respect what you and I have both done for our son that I will not let a worse fate befall him!"

"You're just afraid of losing your precious little boy!" Lucius snarled with genuine animosity. "You'd rather he be shielded his whole life than fight in the cause we both believe in."

"Of course I would rather he be safe!" Narcissa screamed at him. "He is our son before our heir, and I would rather protect him than see him imprisoned, or God help us, killed!"

"I see," Lucius replied coldly. "So, no one can even think about laying a finger on our son, but I can risk my life every...single...day, and that's perfectly alright with you, is that it!"

Narcissa gasped loudly, appalled at her husband's gall. Draco listened intently to their arguing, refusing to let it go as Selina could only stand there and listen with him.

"You can't stand even the mere idea our son being in danger for one second, and yet the idea of me dying isn't even a concern?!" Lucius seethed.

"Stop asking me ridiculous questions, you're blowing everything entirely out of proportion!"

"Don't you speak to me as if I'm your subordinate, I am the man of this house! I am, and have always been, the one who provides for this family!" he roared.

Narcissa seemed to have no amount of tolerance left for him. "You have also always been the one who constantly jeopardizes the reputation of this family!"

"You love your precious son more than you could ever love me, is that it?!" he completely ignored his wife.

"Yes, of course that's it, you pompous arse!" Narcissa shrieked. "You may be my husband, and I may love you more than you will ever know, but my son is, and will always be, my first priority! That's what having a child is, Lucius, you put them first and you do whatever needs to be done to give them the life they deserve!"

Selina could see Draco crying softly as he listened to his mother. It broke her heart to see him covering his mouth as he cried so that his parents wouldn't hear him through the door. She knew just how much Draco was hurting because of his parents, and she wanted to help even if there wasn't much she could do, but what Lucius Malfoy said next she knew would destroy Draco in a way that couldn't be undone, and he had no idea at all.

"I'm sorry, but if that means I have to love my son more than my husband, than so be it," Narcissa said, her voice breaking sadly. "I'm sorry, Lucius, but I will never fail to be a mother to my son! I love you, I do, but ever since I became a mother, you have never been my first thought."

"Well, then," Lucius said quietly, sounding hurt by what she'd said, "Perhaps we never should have had a son."

Complete silence followed Lucius's final say on the matter, as if they had just both given up on the subject entirely. Selina had no idea what had followed the conclusion of that argument, but she knew that even if Lucius and Narcissa could move past it, Draco couldn't. He cried softly, his hand still covering his mouth. Selina gently laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to help ease the pain. Did felt as if she were watching from afar as his sobs became quieter and further apart, until they quickly faded into nothing. He wiped his face with his sleeve, the emotion slowly disappearing from his face altogether. He turned away from his parents' door, a hopeless, empty look in his eyes as he walked down the hall.

"Draco..." Selina said softly.

He only shook his head, forcibly shutting his eyes for a moment as he tried to hold in the pain he was feeling.

"I don't care anymore," he said, his tone alluding to the idea that this statement might've had a more broad meaning to it.

"Draco, I know what he said to her was awful," Selina began, "But I don't think he meant it—"

"Doesn't matter..." he shook his head, his tone deceivingly light and airy. "Doesn't matter. I don't care anymore. He can say whatever he likes, he's dead to me."

"I know how you feel," she offered, trying to be more empathetic than overbearingly sympathetic.

"He's my father, and I'm the family's heir, but other than that, he doesn't exist to me," Draco announced, a sense of freedom in his tone. "He doesn't want a son? Fine. He doesn't need one."

With that being said, he walked up the stairs to his own bedroom, as Selina watched him, unable to help whatsoever. She tried to speak to him about what had happened, but he refused to talk about it, insisting on acting as if nothing had happened, so she decided to humor him. They ate dinner with his parents, pretending easily as if they hadn't heard anything that had been said before, and somehow, Draco seemed more at ease that night at the table than he did when he'd argued with his father. Selina noticed that once Draco had all but renounced his father, he seemed to remove himself from the situation entirely. Draco really became his father's son in nothing more than a genetic capacity. Nothing Lucius could've said or did bothered him anymore, as if he'd just flipped a switch inside of him. The way he so quickly changed his stance on his relationship with his father almost scared Selina, but only because she knew what it felt like to be capable of such a thing.

*****

Christmas Eve arrived shortly, it seemed. Letters had been exchanged between Selina and Draco and all of their other friends. Selina had written the most to Jasper and Amana, and Selina had caught Draco a few times at his desk writing short letters to Pansy. Seeing the way Draco so childishly hid his consideration for Pansy Parkinson made Selina miss Jasper. She missed spending time with him at school, walking around with him, joking with him, and seeing him watching intently from the stands during some of her Quidditch practices. Somehow, Selina had felt that she performed even better with him watching. His support was everything to her, whether it was for a Quidditch match, or in helping Draco. In turn, she felt she was at her best when she was offering her support to him, listening to his complaints about his family, or encouraging him on his path to someday becoming a professional Healer, or simply being there to walk with him or sit and talk to him. He meant a lot to her, and was slowly becoming a part of her everyday routine as she'd remembered to write him back every night since the holidays had begun. The problem wasn't necessarily that she didn't have any feelings for Jasper, but more so that she'd never thought about them before, much less expressed them, to anyone.

No matter what she felt when she initially looked at Jasper Carroll, Selina had always remembered to see him as just her friend, the one who just smiled when he spoke to her, and cheered her on when she played Quidditch. When Selina looked at Jasper, she saw a lot of pleasant things, things that she's never seen in anyone else before. But Selina knew that, from the only practice in human contact she'd had since she was born, she wasn't meant to get too close to anyone. Selina knew that, at the end of the day, it was easiest for her to just be a friend, the kind of person you spoke to and then left and the end of the day. Selina knew that the only real relationship she'd ever had was with her grandmother, who had only taught her the worst ways to interact with people. As bad as Selina knew her grandmother was, she also knew that even her grandmother had told her that she could never make anyone happy. And Selina had accepted that, if even Dominique Morais determined that someone was unlovable, they probably were, considering that she was the queen of being unlovable. If anyone knew anything about how to repulse others, it was her.

Five Years Ago

It was Christmas morning, and Selina had woken up, hoping for a Christmas morning breakfast. She had gotten herself ready as she went down to the estate's main living room. She hoped to find her grandmother making breakfast, or having already prepared something. Selina eventually found her grandmother sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, sipping on a martini. She was staring at the fire thoughtless, enjoying one of her rare drinks for the special occasion.

"Gran?" Selina said quietly, walking up behind her.

"What is it?" her grandmother asked, barely looking at her.

"Is there anything to eat?" she asked anxiously.

Selina's grandmother nodded. "There's some oatmeal, left in the kitchen," she said indifferently.

Selina sighed, giving up on the idea of a nice meal as she left to eat her breakfast, alone.

"It's Christmas, so there's twenty-five galleons for you on the table!"

"Okay! Thank you!" she called.

Selina ate her breakfast of cold oatmeal alone in the kitchen, not bothering to sit at the table. She thought again for a moment about how much she missed her mother, and for the thousandth time that things would have ended up so differently if Adeline had still been alive. Selina didn't cry about her mother much anymore. After a while, it just became something that she knew was a part of her life, or rather something that wasn't anymore. Selina was used to eating her meals at home alone, wishing she could have had someone to share them with who actually wanted her around. After she'd eaten her breakfast, Selina put away the gold coins her grandmother had given her, returning downstairs to at least spend time with another person. She sat down about a foot from her grandmother on the sofa, keeping her eyes fixed on her own lap as she slowly kicked her feet back and forth, trying to find something to say to fill the silence.

"Merry Christmas, Selina," the old woman smiled at her granddaughter.

Selina smiled gingerly, waiting for the pleasantness of her demeanor to twist and contort into something ugly. "Merry Christmas, Gran," she murmured.

Selina looked over at her grandmother, waiting to see if she had anything else to say.

"You know, the only gift I could ask for is to have your mother back again," Dominique thought aloud with a smile on her face.

The little girl studied her. "Me too," she said softly.

"She'd be alive, you know," she whispered, suddenly seething with rage. "She'd still be alive, if it wasn't for you."

Five Years Later

Selina Romanov sat silently at the table, almost catatonic.

"Sel? Sel," Draco Malfoy whispered, capturing her attention with a start.

"...What?" she stammered, as if just waking up.

"Are you okay?" Draco questioned, looking to her for a response.

Selina looked around to see everyone at the table looking at her. She cleared her throat as she tried to remember what had been said at the table as she focused herself.

"Sorry, what?" she asked.

"Nothing, dear, it's of little consequence," Narcissa waved off the question, "Have you heard from your grandmother or your uncle Igor at all today?"

"Oh... Yes," Selina said honestly, recalling the sack of gold and letter her owl had delivered that morning.

"I expect you probably miss your grandmother," Lucius conjectured, eating his turkey. "And your parents."

His wife automatically flashed him a horrified look, embarrassed at her husband's lack of consideration. Draco also looked embarrassed, mouthing an exasperated apology as he shook his head at his father.

"...Yeah," Selina responded, emphasizing the obviousness of her answer, "I do."

Selina and Draco were both shortly dismissed from dinner, sitting alone upstairs as they prepared themselves for eggnog around the fireplace until midnight with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Selina sat on her bed reading a letter she'd gotten from her Uncle Igor, her father's older brother, who was weirdly the only person she was biologically related to who she actually liked. Igor had been traveling the world for the past few years, rarely being on the same continent as his niece. Igor Romanov was an eccentric man who used his fortune to travel to strange and distant lands to do God knows what, who also had at least about ten different girlfriends per continent, excluding Antarctica, at least as far as Selina knew. She loved receiving her weekly letters from her Uncle Igor, where he would tell fantastical stories about his travels, and would often send her a little memento from wherever he currently was. This time, he had sent her a magical firecracker from Thailand, which she had prudently decided would be best to save. He had also wished her a happy Christmas, and had sent her a beautiful golden dragon, supposedly enchanted to bring luck and protection, as her formal Christmas gift. Selina had also just received a letter delivered by Jasper's owl, which had sat on Draco's windowsill until she opened it. She pet Jasper's owl, Arwen, watching it fly away as she eagerly opened up the letter. Jasper certainly meant more to Selina than she knew, which became clear once she read the letter that he'd sent her late that night on Christmas Eve.

Dear Selina,

I hope you're having a good Christmas Eve up at the Malfoys'. My family's doing well, and they all 'send their regards'. Except for Jamie, he's an arsehole. He just says to tell you 'hey', and congratulations on the win against Ravenclaw. I thought I'd send you a little gift, something I think you'd appreciate.

She paused her reading of the letter to look inside the small envelope, reaching in to find what he'd been referring to. It seemed Jasper had sent her a little blue flower that was almost purple. She looked back down at the letter he'd written for the explanation.

...I finally mastered Orchideous. Sort of. I somehow grew a few of these, and I thought you'd like one. Merry Christmas. You deserve nice things, you know. You deserve beautiful things. I hope you don't mind me saying, but, if I'm being honest, I think you deserve the world. You're smart, you're funny, you're kind, you're beautiful, and you've come to have a sort of sacred place in my heart, you know. You mean a lot to me, and honestly, the idea of you spending time at the Malfoys' makes me feel a bit bad for you. I just know Malfoy's kind of an arse to you, and I just feel you deserve for someone to be nothing but nice to you. I really like you, Selina. And I love having you as my friend, but I also feel something even deeper for you. I just had to tell you, because I'd like the chance to tell you in person how beautiful and endearing I find you. Good night, and Merry Christmas again.

Jasper Carroll

Selina was stunned, sitting still on her bed as she could only keep reading what he'd written on the piece of parchment she'd been sent. She could hardly speak. At first she thought about telling Draco, but for some reason, she felt unable to process things with his relentless teasing going on in the background. Selina panicked internally, fixated on how she would have to kindly reject Jasper in a letter. It wasn't until then that she realized that she had just jumped to a conclusion assuming that she would have to reject him at all. The more she thought about it, the more she saw that, this time, she didn't want to reject the boy confessing his feelings to her at all, like she had all the others. Jasper wasn't anything like Goyle, or Montague. Selina liked Jasper, and thought he was handsome, without also finding him irritating or loathsome at all. She knew she liked him, and that perhaps she had silently fancied him ever since she had met him when she was twelve, and he was thirteen. When he had first asked her her name, she had almost grinned like an idiot looking into his soft green eyes. They were inquisitive and kind, and they still made her smile to this day.

One Year Ago

Draco Malfoy followed Selina Romanov as she flew down towards the pitch after their game against Gryffindor. Regrettably, Draco and Selina had lost their first ever Quidditch match played on the Slytherin team, not aware that it would turn out to be the only game they would get to play that school year.

"Move, Romanov! I want to take a nap!" Draco complained as he flew behind his friend.

"Why? Does little baby Malfoy need to cry himself to sleep because he lost to Harry Potter?" she mocked him as he soared back down beside her, laughing as he tried to shove her.

The two of them dropped their broomsticks on the ground as they laughed, shoving each other jokingly. They had probably shoved one another five times before they had noticed a flashing camera interrupting them. A Hufflepuff boy was snapping photos of the two of them on the Quidditch pitch. Standing beside him was a taller Slytherin boy, watching them as they had their pictures taken. Draco smiled for the camera, a bragging grin on his face as he picked up his broom again, posing with it just like any professional Quidditch player in the picture beside an editorial. Selina rolled her eyes as the boy took the photos of Draco, capturing him in his element as he emphasized his importance with all sorts of different victorious smiles, no longer upset by their loss against the Gryffindor team.

"Go on, Romanov," the Hufflepuff boy encouraged her excitedly, "Get in the pictures!"

"Come on!" Draco yelled to her.

Selina stepped beside Draco, smiling proudly for the camera as he happily wrapped his arm around her, the two of them looking like genuine teammates.

"Perfect!" Ian Murray, the Hufflepuff boy, screamed over the noisy crowd. "Thank you!" he said as he lowered his camera.

The two of them nodded and smiled, as Draco joined the other boys on the team, who were still angry about the game.

"These are gonna come out great!" the tall boy with longer black hair called.

"Thanks!"

Selina smiled and waved at him, leaving the pitch to change out of her uniform in order to avoid dealing with the other angry Slytherins, especially Flint. She kept waving to him, smiling tentatively as she went back and forth on whether or not she would actually say anything else to him. She had wanted to talk to him so badly, to ask him his name and let him ask her whatever he wanted, but nothing had come out. She'd scolded herself for caring so much, pushing the moment out of her mind until she'd encountered him again, with her friends in the school library.

One Year Later

Even now, Selina still thought about when she'd first met Jasper. She hardly remembered it until he'd reminded her before. She was surprised she'd forgotten it, given the impression that Jasper Carroll had made on her when they first met. From the moment she saw Jasper, she was intrigued by him. Whether or not she could allow herself the momentary lapse in humility to admit that he had also been intrigued by the girl he'd saw flying proudly across the Quidditch pitch, he had also been enamored with her when they first met. She never would have guessed it from his usual, relaxed demeanor, but the second he had met Selina Romanov, Jasper Carroll was stunned by her, certain he'd never met anyone as brilliantly magnetic as she was. Her very presence had an effect on him, something he could hardly put into words. Looking at her was like staring at the sun, your eyes blinded by indescribable colors that were too interesting to understand. Selina certainly liked the way Jasper looked at her, the way he seemed intensely focused on her no matter what she had to say. She was the one he constantly forgot how to breathe around, and unlike the other boys like Goyle, mindlessly enamored with her pretty face and green skirt that brought out her eyes, this didn't make her think less of him at all. The way in which he was obsessed with her wasn't at all stupid, or vain. It was genuine, and went deeper than she understood.

"You ready to spend two hours with my parents?" Draco asked her.

She struggled to answer him, her eyes widening like a deer in headlights. "Yeah."

"I keep thinking how excited I am for Christmas," Draco shared, "But then, I stop and I think, 'What do I even have to really look forward to'?"

Selina frowned, sharing his pain.

"What, is a new broomstick supposed to make me forget that my father doesn't want to be my father?" he asked himself. "Is my grandfather's ring supposed to make up for my father not wanting to look at me?"

"I got a sack of gold, and some of my mother's old things just to placate me until the holidays are over," Selina expressed emptily. "But I suppose that's more useful to me than a hug, or an apology."

Draco looked at her sadly, understanding her current train of thought all too well.

"I'm finding I don't want any of that either," he admitted. "I'm done with hugs. I'm done with 'I love you's', I'm done with second and third and fourth chances... If there's anything that makes things better, it's money. Money's never done me wrong," he said.

"You're not wrong there," Selina offered humorously.

"My father doesn't think I'll do it, but I will, you know. I'll get a job, not even have to rely on our fortune," Draco told her with an intense seriousness to his tone. "I'll make enough money in my life to support generations, and generations, and generations of Malfoy's! I'll be richer than my father," he vowed.

"'You know, you'd be a lot more successful if you stopped competing with your father," she proposed.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "How so?"

"If all you ever strive to be is just better than your father, than that's all you'll ever get to be," she reasoned. "But you strive to bet better than yourself, and there's no telling what you could do."

Draco thought about her advice, considering how she might be right.

"We're in Slytherin after all. We don't succeed just because of other people," Selina scoffed. "We succeed because it's who we are."

They looked at each other, sharing in the pain that moved them.

"Doing things for other people is pathetic, even if it's out of spite. I want to be more than a mewling, whining child. I want to be a god."

"Maybe we can be," Draco suggested, "Some day."

"Why wait?" she questioned. "Between the both of us, we know a good amount of spells. All we have to do is keep going."

"I don't know as many spells as you, though," he admitted.

"You could," she pointed out. "All you'd have to do is learn. And you learn fast. There's nothing stopping you and I from becoming the most powerful witch and wizard to ever exist."

"That would be something, wouldn't it?" Draco thought, as if the idea were so distant to him that it couldn't have been real.

*****

Selina sat with the Malfoy family before the fireplace, as Narcissa peacefully divided gift boxes from underneath the Christmas tree. The Malfoy family tradition was that everyone got to open one box each at midnight on Christmas eve. She opened a gift from her son as her husband opened the gift she'd gotten for him, the two of them still set on acting as if nothing had happened between them even though both of the children were well aware that wasn't true. Draco decided he'd open a gift he'd gotten from his mother, just as she placed a small, gift-wrapped box in front of Selina.

"Here you go, sweetheart," she said. "This one's from me. There's one from Lucius, and one from Draco, too."

"Really?" Selina thought aloud, surprised. "That's so kind of you. Thank you."

"It's no trouble at all," she promised. "We just wanted you to be able to celebrate like a part of our family."

Selina smiled, graciously accepting the gift she'd been gotten for Christmas.

"Alright. Let's all open," Narcissa said with a smile.

Draco impatiently opened one of the gifts he'd gotten from his mother, an enchanted fountain pen that seemed to be able to write things even its user didn't know, the kind that, naturally, was banned at Hogwarts, enforced through various anti-cheating jinxes. Although Narcissa hadn't considered this, it would still be possible to complete an assignment using this pen and merely copy the answers onto another piece of parchment before handing it in. Narcissa Malfoy had opened a fancy scarf made of blue cashmere that Draco had gotten for her from Diagon Alley, proudly hugging her son. Lucius opened a beautiful set of gold cuff links his wife had gotten him, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. Selina unwrapped the box from Narcissa, expecting a simple gift purely meant as a friendly gesture for the holidays. But instead, she found a beautiful glass bottle that looked like it was just a giant diamond. It was a spray bottle, filled with a magical perfume in the form of a clear, sparkling liquid. The bottle read 'Le Charme d'Amour' in fancy cursive letters. Curious, Selina took the glass top off the bottle, smelling it. In awe of its strange properties, she all but gasped.

"That smells amazing," she remarked, looking up at everyone else in disbelief.

"I'm glad you like it," Narcissa said in her low, elegant voice. "It's a new perfume I discovered, from a witch in Milan. It's got a very low percentage of Amortentia."

"The love potion?"

"Yes, just enough to emit the same scents," Narcissa nodded. "What do you smell?"

"I don't know... Cherries? Roses? Vanilla?" Selina guessed. "It's hard to describe."

"Everyone smells something different when they smell it, but it smells good to everyone," Narcissa explained, "Supposedly in the same way."

Selina held the bottle out towards Draco, who

smelled it eagerly.

"I smell the cherries," he stated, trying to make out the other aromas as he shook off the effects of the spell.

"It's incredible," Selina murmured, impressed as she put the cap on the bottle.

"Supposedly, the Amortentia has a very slight effect on people when you wear it," Narcissa considered, "But it's not thought to be noticeable at all. It's less than one percent Amortentia. But every time I where it, it seems I turn more heads, and more doors are held open for me," she said as Lucius shot her a look of disapproval.

"I see," Selina thought.

"It's a very lucky sort of spell," Narcissa offered. "I figured it would make a nice gift."

"Certainly. Thank you, it smells amazing," Selina admitted.

"That's the thing; it smells great to everyone," the woman remarked. "Very convenient, really. It'll get you lots of compliments, for sure."

Selina smiled, happy to receive such a special gift. In some ways, Narcissa Malfoy was more of a mother to her than anyone she'd ever met, apart from Amana Tesfaye's mother. No woman had ever been so genuinely kind toward her in her life since her mother had died. Narcissa may have been strange, and oddly formal at times, but still she had demonstrated more of an interest in Selina than anyone else ever had, including her own grandmother. Selina definitely knew a lot of questionable people, definitely including all of the Malfoys, but she knew that she couldn't be picky. It didn't matter if the Malfoys were shallow, or rude, or just uncomfortable to spend time with sometimes. Ultimately it didn't matter that they were practically both Death Eaters, or that they openly hated Muggles, because Selina knew that her own family, specifically on her father's side, wasn't any better. She also knew that, unlike most of her own family, the Malfoys actually cared for her, and supported her, despite all of their messy drama and other flaws. They weren't the best of people at times, but they were a family, a family which actually welcomed Selina. Selina wasn't exactly an expert at showing affection given the environment that she'd grown up in, but with the Malfoys, nothing was expected of her, but everything was welcome.

Lucius and Narcissa drank their eggnog fairly quietly as they enjoyed watching the fire, listening to the old records playing on the gramophone. Draco also enjoyed the music that his parents played around the holidays, usually pleasant love songs that they would also dance to together when they were in better moods. Needless to say, this year, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had remained seated on their couch, still holding one another's hand from a distance. It was sad to see, Selina thought as she observed them, but it was also beautiful in a very melancholic how the two of them tried to remain physically close in one, single way despite the problems that they had. Draco was similar to his parents in that he'd learned to keep the people he cared about close, no matter how angry he might've been with them. Selina had noticed this, in the way he always sat near her, or Crabbe and Goyle, no matter how much any of them had offended him on any given day. She had always thought that Draco had absorbed a lot of his parents' behaviors, even if he was mostly recognized for exhibiting the bad ones.

Selina sat in silence next to Draco, listening to the beautiful music that played that night as they drank their eggnog.

"I'm kind of glad they canceled the Christmas party this year," Draco told her privately. "I never realized how nice it is to spend Christmas with a small group of people."

"Almost my whole life, Christmas has just been me and my grandmother," Selina spoke softly. "I've had a lot of things to say about that, but one word I'd never use to describe it is 'nice'," she remarked with a deep emptiness in her voice.

"I meant... it's nice to spend Christening with a small group of people you love," he corrected himself, feeling strange as he realized 'love' might've been the wrong word to use in this context. "Oh. I almost forgot."

He pulled the two gift boxes from his pocket they'd gotten at Knockturn Alley, from the enchanted rings.

"Might as well give you your birthday present since yours is in January," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Selina chuckled, opening the little black leather box, revealing the silver ring with the dark gemstones. She handed the ring to Draco, who held hers and his own in his hand, reading the incantation from the slip of paper provided by Bellicent Cobbe.

"Simulaeternum," he murmured, pointing his wand.

A faint white light enveloped the two rings he held together in his hand. He held up both pieces of jewelry to his eye level, handing Selina her ring once he'd examined them.

"Let's test them out," he said finally.

She nodded, slipping the ring onto her index finger. Remembering what the witch had said about using the rings to communicate, she gave hers a couple of slight taps, waiting for results. After a delay of about a second, Draco's eyes widened with surprise as he felt a gentle squeezing on his finger, as if someone had been holding onto it.

"Bloody hell, it does work," he realized. "Coolest thing I've ever bought, and that's saying something. Because I've bought a lot of things. Because I'm rich," he stated obviously.

"Not a bad find at all," Selina agreed.

She sat with him in contentment. They watched the fire dancing in the fireplace, listening to the ambient sound of smooth jazz love songs filling the living room sipping on eggnog. Although she wanted to feel more peaceful in that moment, she knew she couldn't completely relax until she knew what her response to Jasper was going to be. Selina what chose she was going to make, nor did she know what her options were. She liked Jasper, and she knew she could be very happy with him, but she didn't know what she actually wanted. She didn't understand how a person could truly care for someone, but not want to be with them, but she also knew that this was the sort of thing that just couldn't be simplified. As much as Selina felt she fancied him, she also wasn't sure that actually being with someone was a promise she could keep.

"Hey," Draco's voice suddenly interrupted her inner monologue. "What's wrong?"

She readjusted to where she was slowly, her eyes taking longer to focus on what was in front of her.

"What?" she piped up.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said as she shook off the thoughts.

He frowned. "'Nothing' as in 'dead mum stuff'?" he asked cautiously.

"No," Selina promised, "Definitely not."

He didn't seem to understand the nature of her tone.

"Then I don't understand," he admitted, "Otherwise, you're set."

"I don't know. Just trying to figure out how I actually feel," she thought aloud.

"Sometimes, I have trouble with that too, you know," Draco confided in her. "Like with Pansy."

His example intrigued her. "How so?" she wondered.

"Well, I know she fancies me," he began thoughtfully.

"Who doesn't at this point?" she asked impatiently.

"Yeah, well... I know she does," he ignored the question. "And I know I fancy her too. I know that when you fancy someone, and they feel the same, that's all you need to know," he presented logically.

She nodded slowly, realizing the parallels between their situations and feelings toward them.

"So, I'm thinking, if I fancy her too, then just go and be with her," he concluded quickly. "But, I have this... weird feeling that might not be what I want after all."

Selina said nothing, taking in what he said as she began to find herself deeper into the conversation. She held onto his every word, trying to piece together every reaction and motivation in his brain.

"I feel like, even though I fancy her and she fancies me, there's still something else missing," he analyzed, "But I just don't know what if could be."

She absorbed everything he said, trying to figure out just how intertwined their feelings might be. "Sometimes, I feel like the only reason I'm not set on how I feel is because I know I'm wrong somehow."

"Yeah. Like maybe I want something different, but I don't quite know what," Draco contemplated.

Neither of them had anything helpful to add after that. They continued the next few moments in silence, finishing their egg nog before eventually retiring to Draco's room for the night. Selina was laying down on her bed trying to fall asleep, as Draco got into his own bed. She turned away from him facing the door as she laid there with her eyes wide open, trying to think. She couldn't allow herself to sleep, and was maddened by all the different possibilities that presented themselves as she lie awake.

"Merry Christmas, Sel," Draco mumbled as he fell asleep.

"Merry Christmas, Draco," she replied, knowing she wouldn't be getting much sleep.

*****

Christmas morning filled Selina with a feeling of relief at how rejuvenating it was. She and Draco had woken up late at the same time, having spent in past noon. They had cleaned up, feeling refreshed, before coming downstairs to the smell of fresh cookies. They had eaten a plentiful Christma morning breakfast prepared by the family chef, an old Squib from Italy, before indulging in the gingerbread cookies and milk. Selina realized she had plenty of other things on her mind as she sat at the table that morning alone with Draco as Lucius and Narcissa sat in the living room, having already eaten their share. It was definitely an interesting thought that, as she watched him impatiently dunking his cookies in milk, looking at them in approval once he tasted that they were soft enough, but not too soft. It hadn't occurred to her before that, perhaps the reason behind her reluctance to admit feelings for Jasper was because she had even stronger ones for Draco. Yes, it was a strange and almost embarrassing development in her situation, but Selina couldn't deny that she'd heard it speculated so many different times that she thought it might be true. It was a funny idea, Selina fancying Draco Malfoy, but she knew that no matter how aware she was that Draco was still in fact Draco, it was still possible that she'd felt something for him as the years went by.

After all, they'd always gotten along well, when they were really determined. Selina cared for him very deeply, especially at their age, and she was almost beginning to feel that it was just one of those situations where you had to at least entertain the idea. She knew that even if she shouldn't say it out loud, she did love him on some level. Naturally, she'd always assumed she just loved him like a brother, feeling a devoted level of friendship between them. But she also felt that there were parts of her that didn't know how to feel around Draco. Selina understood that, regardless, and would've fought for Draco or died for him. She knew that she liked seeing him happy, and hated to see him hate himself. She could tell every word of what he was thinking just by the look on his face, but didn't know if that was enough. She had no experience with crushes, or access reputable sources for advice. A part of Selina certainly wanted to see him, eventually exploring what was waiting for them beyond the confines of platonic friendship, although an admittedly overwhelming amount of her conscious also wanted to remain unattached to everyone, not limited in her options. But it wasn't so much because she wanted everyone than it was that she worried she secretly wanted no one. Although Selina had always been the kind of person who could've easily told you what they wanted, she also wasn't exactly the kind of person who typically laid all their cards on the table.

Selina Romanov was very opinionated about many things, and almost always had her own take on things whether or not she actually shared it. She rarely ever made grand gestures, or spoke up very passionately, or publicly took firm stances on any particular issue. She'd always had a quirky fear of being too publicly opinionated, because Selina always maintained her almost impossible sense of neutrality and empathetic acceptance in order to convince people that she was their other half through shallow agreement and thoughtless pandering. Selina often infiltrated entire social circles just by agreeing with the people she met and playing the mediator in disputes so that she always ended up in favor of both sides. Because of her popularity amongst Slytherins and others alike, and her friendship with other intimidating Slytherins, Selina's kindness, when it made an appearance, was always perceived as untrustworthy or disingenuous. Even she was forgetting who she was underneath all of it, forgetting what her own opinions really were, or what her genuine personality was like. Selina always feared she was no one underneath all of the pretending, that every day, once she was finally alone, there was nothing left under all the charming smiles and quick nods. Selina always had an agenda, a motivation for every little thing she did, but the bigger picture would almost always lead back to her status, or her future career as an adult witch, which always took priority over her own various whims and emotions, including the sort of feelings she had for Jasper.

Selina cared deeply for him, which everyone knew. He was practically her other half, and was, in her opinion, the smartest, funniest person she'd ever met. She constantly looked forward to spending time with him, and she loved the special way he would pay attention to her, and only her. There was only one small issue that she could think of to make her believe that she truly wanted Draco instead, which was that Jasper Carroll, as kind and handsome as he was, just wasn't Draco Malfoy. Why that was a bad thing, Selina still had no idea. Draco Malfoy was immature, mean, and impossible to get along with. Being around him always felt like babysitting. Selina knew that if she were to somehow end up with him, she'd never be able to get a moment's peace ever again. Why she felt the need to willingly subject herself to that, she had no idea. But everything was almost serene at Malfoy Manor that Christmas morning, between Draco silently downing his mug of hot chocolate, and his parents opening the gifts he'd gotten each of them for the holidays.

"Oh, the chocolates, I can't believe you remembered!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Thank you so much, my darling, I love you," she said softly as she hugged her son.

Draco hugged his mother back, only becoming awkward as he realized Selina had been looking. Not surprising anyone, Lucius Malfoy was very composed, to say the least, as he opened his gift from his son, which was a signed former broomstick handle of a legendary Quidditch player, that Draco had spent months tracking down as a surprise. Of course, this was before he had truly been illuminated on the subject of his relationship with his father. Lucius hardly seemed thoroughly impressed by the gift from his son. This led to an angry look to Selina once he was no longer paying attention to Draco, which never seemed to take long.

"Oh, Draco?" Narcissa said in an airy tone. "Did you want your gift to Selina?"

"Oh, yes," Lucius Malfoy chimed in, "Let's all let Selina open her gifts."

"Wow, you didn't have to do all this," she said almost guiltily as they placed a few boxes out in front of her.

"No one 'has to' do anything, we just wanted to," Draco spat. "Open them."

"Draco, be polite," Lucius scoffed at his manners, "Malfoy men are gentlemen."

"Yeah," Selina agreed with a grin, liking the concept, "They are."

"Ha-ha, you're hilarious," he said flatly.

Selina opened the gifts addressed to her on beautiful calligraphy labels from Lucius and Narcissa, revealing a luxurious cashmere scarf, a designer quill, and a stylish black coat. Having friends like the Malfoys once again proved to be a very lucrative opportunity.

"Open my present," Draco told her softly.

She looked down at the box wrapped in delicate black and gold paper, suspicious of it. "It's not gonna release some sort of dung bomb, is it?"

"Just open the damn box," Draco sighed exasperatedly.

"Don't be a neanderthal," Lucius snapped, much to Draco's dismay.

Selina opened Draco's present, surprised at how innocent of a gift it was as she opened the box it was contained in. It seemed to be another box, carved from beautiful dark wood, etched with beautiful flowers and designs that his various ancient runes. She opened the wooden box, revealing a tiny porcelain ballerina on the inside. Selina was confused, to say the least, as she examined the tiny little danced with long dark hair and painted blue eyes, which bore an eerie to herself.

"A music box?" she held it up, not understanding.

Narcissa and Lucius both leaned in, getting a closer look at the magical item Draco had found in an antique store.

"Oh. I see," Lucius Malfoy murmured as he examined it.

"I've heard about these, but never actually seen one," she said in awe, glancing at her son. "Draco... This very Dark magic."

Even Narcissa seemed startled by this unknown object. Selina was worried, given that she was aware that Narcissa Malfoy wasn't exactly a stranger to the Dark Arts.

"It's a wonderful gift for Selina," Lucius approved.

"What? You can't just give that to someone—"

Selina looked back and forth between all of them, trying to figure out what Narcissa was so concerned about.

His wife looked at him in surprise. "Lucius..."

"What is it?" Selina asked Draco, not aware at all of what it was.

The Malfoy's all hesitated, as Lucius looked down and gave his son a small nod of permission, egging him on even as Narcissa's eyes half begged him not to.

"Here," he said softly, taking out the small ingredient bags. "You take one of these, and you put it in the box," he showed her.

"The human vocal chords..." she whispered, realizing the potency of this form of magic. "And then what?" she asked, watching as he closed the wooden box.

"Did you get anything of your mother's? Something small, that you're willing to part with?" he thought.

She nodded, rushing upstairs as everyone waited expectantly. She handed Draco the small box of belongings her grandmother had sent her. Draco looked through the box, searching until he settled on Adeline's old hairbrush, which still had many of her own hairs stuck to it. Selina watched in confusion as Draco pulled a single, long brown hair from the brush. Selina watched his cold, pale hands, carefully setting the single strand of hair down inside the box before closing it.

"Now you just turn this knob, here," he said softly.

She held onto the box with him, watching him slowly turn the delicate key on the side of the box, as a small sound was emitted from the music box. A quiet tune played, sounding beautiful but disturbing at the same time. Everyone listened to the tune intently, patiently waiting. Soon enough, a small, frail voice accompanied the music. The voice was quiet and labored, as if speaking despite a sore throat, but Selina could've recognized it anywhere.

"Selina," the voice whispered, as Narcissa's eyes widened. "Selina, I miss you... Selina, I love you."

The voice had died out, but the tune still remained, playing as Selina desperately held onto the music box, tears falling suddenly as she frantically held it up, listening again for the voice as the music eventually died out.

Narcissa turned to her husband, her voice meek and shaky. "Is that...?"

"Mum," Selina murmured, looking over at Draco. "Is that... Is that really her?" she asked, fearful that she was being deceived.

No one in the room said a word at the uncomfortable topic.

"Was that my mother?" Selina Romanov asked in horror.

"I, erm... I don't know how it works, exactly," Draco admitted. "But, that's her, that's her voice. Y-You don't hate it, do you?"

"No," she gasped, leaping into his arms as she gave him a grateful hug, "Thank you."

Sure, most would have found the device creepy, or at least been offended by the gift one way or another, but Selina didn't mind. She was shocked at the gift Draco had gotten her, but still, nothing could have outweighed her relief at getting a chance to hear her mother's voice again, at least one more time. He returned her hug, relieved that she appreciated the gift and wasn't upset or angry with him. He held her close to him, sighing as she embraced him.

"That's all you have to do to use it. There's a good amount of those old vocal chords," he told her. "See?"

"It's horrifying," Selina told him. "I love it."

Draco Malfoy let out a sigh of relief as he let go of her, opportunistically memorizing the expression of relief and gratitude on her face. Selina never would've expected he'd care enough to try and give her a piece of her mother she never thought she could've had again, even as misguided as the attempt seemed to be to everyone else, mainly Narcissa, but Selina didn't care. She didn't care how unorthodox or strange of a gift Draco had decided to give her. She knew it was the best gift she'd ever gotten before. Hearing her mother's voice had startled her, not in fear, but only in that she never thought she would have another chance to hear her mother speak to her again. She had done everything she could to try and keep reminders of her mother on her mind whenever she could, but nothing compared to hearing Adeline's voice speak to her again, after seven years. Selina remembered just how much she'd loved hearing her mothers voice, the way she had always sang at home, and laughed at everything. Ilya had always made fun of her for it, but Selina loved it. Now, her mother's laughter was one of the few things she still had to cling onto. Until now, of course.

"I just thought I'd get you something I knew you'd like," Draco broke the silence. "I couldn't get you your mother back, but..."

Selina nodded, shutting a few tears behind her eyelids as she tried to steady herself as Lucius and Narcissa left the room for their afternoon drinks.

"I knew you wouldn't have wanted anything silly, like a golden quill or a signed Quaffle," Draco offered. "So, I found this."

"I appreciate it. A lot," she nodded earnestly.

"You don't have to say anything," he provided. "I know. Well... I don't know, but I know," he reassured her.

"Thank you, Draco," she murmured, meaning so much more than she said.

"You're welcome," he nodded simply.

She sat alone next to him in her thoughts, silently breaking down every difference and similarity between him and Jasper. She knew why she was friends with them both, and she knew that she didn't understand the feelings she had for either of them. Jasper was precious to her, and Draco was always by her side. The way it was to everyone else, she had to be destined for one of them. She just had to be, it seemed.

"Jasper tells me he fancies me," Selina revealed hesitantly, not considering much before she spoke.

Draco froze, not looking her in the eye as he tried to actually understand what she'd said.

"Well about time," he mustered, his utilization of delayed sarcasm rather impressive.

"He said he wants to be with me," she murmured, unsure of what to think. "I don't know what to make of it," she confessed.

"Well," Draco thought, trying to come up with something useful, "Do you fancy him?"

There was a strangely long pause after he'd asked that question.

"...Is there any reason I shouldn't?" Selina asked vaguely.

"What?" Draco questioned her.

"Is there any reason I shouldn't be with him?" Selina wondered, seeming completely lost. "He told me he fancies me, and I feel like I should figure out if there's any reason I shouldn't fancy him. I almost worry there's something there, something I can't quite describe... But I have no idea what it could be."

She watched him, trying to determine what his train of thought was. Draco's thoughts were hard to follow, as he didn't seem to have much to say.

"It all comes down to whether you fancy him," he stated. "Do you fancy him or not?"

"I don't know," Selina admitted. "I just... I almost wonder if there's someone else that I really fancy," she admitted, trying to gauge his initial response.

"Like who?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Anyone."

"I don't think anyone looks at you the way Carroll looks at you," Draco responded stiffly. "I don't think you have anything that strong with anyone else."

She didn't know it then, but what Draco had told her was a genuine fear of his.

"...Okay," she murmured as he eventually looked away, not noticing the tear that rolled down her cheek, falling onto the floor just as unnoticed as any of her other feelings were on a face that hardly moved when happy or sad. "Maybe I was wrong."

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