#i hope this is also useful to other people!?

[astonmartinii]

day seven: (christmas) star power | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem primary school!teacher

oh how one lie can spiral

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by yourbff, yourbrother and 204 others

yourusername: so ummmmmmm i pulled the short straw and am in charge of the school's nativity ??? AND THEN made a comment about my 'boyfriend' charles leclerc and now the whole school and WHOLE village think he is coming to the show ...

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yourbff: are you fucking dumb ???

yourusername: YES

yourbff: you told the headmaster that your boyfriend is CHARLES LECLERC ????

yourusername: i said it in JEST

yourusername: like ooohhhh my boyf charles

yourusername: and i guess that my framed picture of him on my desk definitely didn't help ...

yourbff: you have a framed picture of him on your desk...

yourusername: it was a christmas present from my cousin 😭

yourbff: oh but why would you have it on your desk - you're a primary school teacher all those kids do is ask questions

yourusername: why are you VICTIM BLAMING SO MUCH

yourbff: because you're DUMB

yourbrother: oh they're gonna stone you when they figure out it's not true

yourusername: they should know it's not true ITS CHARLES LECLERC

yourbrother: so you're saying you couldn't just go to monaco right now and pull him? disappointing

yourusername: 1. i'm broke as fuck 2. i am me and he is he

yourbrother: ugh such a skill issue

yourbff: bro it's hit f1twt

yourusername: WHAT

yourusername: who the fuck is on f1twt from our village

yourbff: maybe it was me...

yourusername: REALLY?

yourbff: no you actual dumbass

yourusername: no but for real these people are insane detectives they're going to figure out it's me and i'm going to be CANCELLED

yourbff: lol

yourusername: fuck you.

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 1,034,289 others

tagged: arthurleclerc & lorenzotl

charles_leclerc: just a quiet christmas for the leclercs this year

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user4: because we're going to somerset right?

user5: does he know he's meant to be in somerset?

user6: does he know what a nativity is?

user7: girl he may be an f1 driver who didn't finish school but he's not THAT dumb

landonorris: why am i seeing that you're coming to my ends for christmas?

charles_leclerc: am i??? why would i want to spend even more time with you?

landonorris: first of all - rude. second of all i have literally seen posters about you coming to the village?

charles_leclerc: what is a village?

landonorris: okay mr monte carlo some of use aren't from a tax haven

charles_leclerc: also when you're this beautiful, people tend to paste your face everywhere, you can't relate

landonorris: even RUDER

landonorris: my young cousin goes to the school and is completely convinced that you're coming to the show and dating his teacher

charles_leclerc: WHAT

yourusername: oh my jesus christ

user8: and if that one girl on f1twt made it all up...

user9: would be the only good thing to come out of that place

pierregasly: what is this i'm hearing of you having a girlfriend? charles i am HURT

charles_leclerc: where are you all hearing all of this stuff?

pierregasly: twitter!

charles_leclerc: oh jesus christ

pierregasly: you've got yourself in a right mess

charles_leclerc: ME?

charles_leclerc: this is clearly the work of a downright lunatic or a lonely cat woman with FAR too much time on her hands

yourusername: oh he gagged me there

yourbff: heyyy you have a dog not a cat!

charles_leclerc: who are you people?

yourusername: NO ONE

user10: what on earth is going on

user11: and WHO is @yourusername

yourusername: NO ONE

landonorris

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 1,034,277 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

landonorris: look who came to see me :)

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user13: holy....

user14: oh charles at the nativity is still so on

user15: my hopes are simply too high now good lord

user16: lowkey hoping this is all one big lie from f1twt that has managed to convince ACTUAL drivers to go to a random village

oscarpiastri: how did he get an invite to the norris house before i did ?

oscarpiastri: do my 'heart eyes' mean nothing to you?

landonorris: no babe i can explain it's for the bit

charles_leclerc: babe?

oscarpiastri: stay out of this old man

charles_leclerc: that's no way to talk to your father

oscarpiastri: my father wouldn't do such things for 'the bit" WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN

landonorris: it's a joke osc

oscarpiastri: so i'm a joke to you? i see how it is

landonorris: NO THE TWITTER JOKE

landonorris: has he just put his phone on do not disturb?

charles_leclerc: he said he's going to bed (it is actually quite late in australia dude)

landonorris: how do you know that?

charles_leclerc: he replied to my text :)

landonorris: WHAT

charles_leclerc: family comes before whatever pathetic crush he has

user17: how have we gotten to this point?

user18: just smile and wave boys this is mental illness on show

charles_leclerc: you're right, having a crush on lando is mental illness

landonorris: then it's time to get your son sectioned!

alexalbon: well this has all gotten a bit serious now - can we get back to the actual reason charles is at your house?

yourusername: @yourbff oh brother this is getting TOO REAL

yourbff: to put it quite kindly you are royally FUCKED

yourusername: i might have to move to another country, change my name and get bangs :(

yourbff: NOT BANGS

landonorris: who are you people and why are you always camping out in our comment sections

yourusername: WE'RE NO ONe

landonorris: WAIT I HAVE MUTUALS WITH YOU?

landonorris: NOOOOOOOOO

landonorris: she blocked me?

yourbff

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 304 others

tagged: yourusername

yourbff: take a good look at her folks because i have reason to believe that if a certain someone turns up at the show she will KILL HERSELF. love you queen, rest in divadom

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yourusername: this sounds very dramatic

yourusername: but you are correct

yourusername: my life will come to a short and all round inconsequential end tonight

yourbff: it is dramatic

yourbff: but i understand queen

yourbff: your celebrity crush who you have had a parasocial relationship with for years is coming with the express purpose of embarrasing you because he believes you are a sad, sad woman who has created an elaborate lie that you're in a relationship

yourusername: well yeah that sums it up pretty well - you think you could put that on my head stone?

yourbff: i don't think we can afford that

landonorris: i can pay!

yourusername: AHHHHHHH

yourbff: AHHHHHH

landonorris: oh forgot to say but found you! we have a lot of mutual friends lol

landonorris: actually i think my mum and your mum are in the same book club!

yourusername: you're aware this is creepy?

landonorris: you're aware that pretending to be my friend's girlfriend is creepy

yourusername: THERE WAS A GROSS MISUNDERSTANDING OVER MY DESK DECOR

landonorris: sureeeeeee

yourusername: also charles isn't even the only man i have framed on my desk, i have my dog, justin from wizards of waverely place, jason kelce and marc marquez, he's just the one the old lady picked out

yourbrother: now we have actual f1 drivers in the comments, how can we get free tickets from them?

yourusername: so my impending suicide means nothing?

yourbrother: not really. i might take your car if you die

charles_leclerc: so this was all one big scheme to get tickets? there's no show ???

yourbrother: that's what you're focusing on? not that she has a whole town under the impression that you're dating some irrelevant primary school teacher?

yourusername: rude?

charles_leclerc: a primary school teacher? that's cute

yourusername: wait did you think i was just doing the nativity for the love of the game?

yourbrother: who gives a fuck he called you CUTE

yourusername: oh!

yourbrother: she passed out :/

charles_leclerc: i didn't know i had that kind of effect on people

landonorris: oh fuck off of course you do

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,539,056 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: met my long lost girlfriend (and most importantly her dog)

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user20: omg i do not know how to feel

user21: WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME SHE'S THAT BEAUTIFUL

user22: i 100% thought the gal was gonna at least be in her 40s

landonorris: i guess she puts on a pretty good nativity

charles_leclerc: which kid is your cousin?

landonorris: the lobster!

pierregasly: LOBSTER?

charles_leclerc: @yourusername why was there a lobster?

yourusername: ummmm there's a lot of kids in the class and i was running out of roles? all animals are gods creations?

charles_leclerc: seems sacrilegious but it was cute <3

charles_leclerc: just like you

pierregasly: that was awful

yourusername: SHUT UP

yourusername: thank you charles :)

charles_leclerc: no worries princess x

user23: i am losing my mind ?????

user24: bro got tricked into going to SOMERSET and has actually fallen for her

user25: i mean ... look at her

yourusername: i do also have a cracking personality if i do say so myself

yourbff: oh girl you needed it after i held your hair back three times in the lead up to meeting charles

yourusername: and i will repay you somehow ???

yourbff: well.... now you've charmed a certain someone can we inquire about his pool of friends

landonorris: hi!

charles_leclerc: no not that one he's not cute enough

landonorris: you're really mean

charles_leclerc: @yourbff may i introduce my good buddy joris

landonorris: JORIS ???

charles_leclerc: well i regularly want to throttle you so i think it would be better to go on double dates with someone i actually like ?

user26: charles leclerc is the origin of the sassy man apocalypse

user27: i think the paddock was the start of it all

yourusername: i can't believe this actually happened :')

charles_leclerc: and i can't wait to see where it goes

yourusername: see you for new years pretty boy

charles_leclerc: i think i already know who my new years kiss might be

yourusername: i'm already waiting :3

fin.

note: i hope you all had a fun christmas! i had a great day with my family and am workin hard to get the rest of this series out!

[rayroseu]

I really appreciate the beauty of Malleus New Year's card. But most importantly, other than its gorgeousness, I also appreciate how it pays so much homage to his status and character, from the flowers, the clothes, and the setting. 🥹

We know that wisterias were prevalent in his Dorm Groovy SSR, this time its another flower which is the red plum blossom here😭❤️

In Chinese philosophy, the Plum tree’s blossom is a symbol of winter ending and a herald of spring. The tree’s pale pink blossoms are cherished because they bloom vibrantly and so bravely amidst the winter chill. They symbolise perseverance and hope, as well as, beauty thriving in adverse circumstances.

The way this flower's meaning is so matched with Malleus' character is so precious. We know he's "the herald of spring" because his birth brought forth a hope that the Draconias(or the faes in general) won't die out just yet (the ending of winter) and the fact that this flower blooms even in winter probably symbolizes the fact that when he was an egg, he was still perservering to live. This also applies to his life as he grows up. With the way even if his life is riddled with loneliness and exclusion, he makes an effort to go out and adjust himself with others, he doesn't give up even if his reality consistently places him in situation where his goals can never be achieved (that is, him being accepted socially and him being ignorant of human culture but still makes an effort to understand it), he just continues to be hopeful that someone/ some place will invite him, therefore his ability to thrive in adverse circumstances.

The way he slowly rises in this card makes me feel like it symbolizes how slow paced Malleus is "in going out/getting used to outside of his comfort zone", actually lol. He described his admission to NRC as him being nervous because its an unknown place but still hopeful for the experiences that he might get(acccording to the vignette of his GloMas SSR), just like him here rising from the snow and the way he lifts the veil which makes me think he wants to see the world outside of his country's point of view with his own eyes.

Japanese tradition holds that the Plum (or ‘ume’) is celebrated as a protective charm against evil, so the ume is traditionally planted in the northeast of the garden, the direction from which evil is believed to come.

I also read this symbolism which makes me tear up lmaooo 😭Because we know in Book 7, Briarland was invaded from northeast where the Silver Owls originated from 💀 The fact that the plum blossom is a protection flower and he's surrounded with it in this card makes me think that it symbolizes how protected he was during Briarland's era 😭and another thing to dissect from his slow rise from the snow with the fact the plum blossom signifies protection is probably the fact that he took so long to hatch despite many people caring for him.

Side note that in Malleus Bloom Birthday Groovy, it implied that he was born in daytime during a snowfall, and he was happy experiencing the winter, just like in this New Years card where he's smiling against the heavy snowfall 🥹

In Japan, plum blossoms symbolize good fortune, an auspicious flower, along with pine and bamboo, and the arrival of early spring. They are often used as the design for New Year’s greeting cards and other celebratory occasions. (And maybe this is just the likely reason why this flower is here in Malleus' card and I'm overthinking it above lol

Next thing I want to mention is his clothes, that attire reminds me of the formal outfit of a Japanese Emperor (From what I searched, its called sokutai, but what Malleus wears is much more simpler I guess, its a outfit derived from it which is called ikan.) This post is a great overview about these two outfits.

Ikan is the work clothes of nobles and government officials in the Imperial Court after the Heian period. Sokutai is a formal costume for those from the Emperor to the court nobles in and after Heian period (Heian costume). Ikan is called 'tonoi (nighttime) costume', whereas sokutai is called 'hino (daytime) costume'. (which probably references the fact that he's a night fae)

The point is, what Malleus wears in this card is a very traditional garment that only high ranking Japanese officials can wear. But what he wears isn't the clothes of an emperor yet, but just for a high ranking official, which is accurate to his status that he's still a crown prince not yet the king, because only Maleficia truly rules Briar Valley right now.

I love the decision that they made him wear such a prestigious outfit because the story of the New Years event is the characters working on customer service lol Its like his clothes is a reminder that he is still highly distinguished even if temporarily he's a worker.

Lastly the VEIL !!!!!! That's the thing that catched my eyes the most in this card lol I KNOW they're not referencing a wedding here because the veil don't look the same, but its so good not to mention that the one of the headress of a Japanese bride is called tsunokakushi and its description can be related with Malleus a lot lol.

The term is a compound of 角 (tsuno, "horn") + 隠し (kakushi, "hiding"). This derivation is listed in some sources as a reference to hiding a bride's "horns" of anger, jealousy, or other negative qualities, in order to present a more virtuous image for the wedding. However, this interpretation might be a folk etymology resulting from a shift in the reading and meaning.

The headdress and the veil aren't the same thing but I kinda feel like this is the idea they're going for considering the veil is 1) hiding his horns, 2) he's a character associated with being jealous, and most importantly, 3) only the person he is looking at can see his face (which is the point of most wedding veils/headdress, to hide the bride's face so that only her partner can see it).

But long veils, like the one Malleus is holding is also just a garment for a noble to hide their nobility. Which is this is probably the likely reason, considering he's using that veil to cover up his horns and his clothes, the most obvious features of his status.

Also, it could be just a fun reference to the fact that Maleficent in live action wore a long veil to hide her horns so that she wouldn't scare the humans lol

[climeslover]

One of the places to start is the public library. There are groups for many libraries that effect book bans and whatnot that people can join. (Look for 'Friends of the Library -name of your local library-') Also, lots of other types of community organizing happens at public libraries, often resources for filing taxes, job help, classes, book groups, movie events, fibercraft groups, internet access, writing groups, child activities, and so on. Are you a parent? In parent-spaces when you talk to others I imagine you commiserate sometimes, do you share info about services in your community? Same for Musicians, Writers, Caregivers, Scrabble Pros, whatever -- this is the beginning of establishing community. It's true local community is very important, and we're isolated from it in a million ways to our detriment, but online stuff is helpful too. Not just commiserating (which is pretty powerful in its own right) but access to actionable suggestions you feel are attainable for you. Look for people and places (online or offline) offering actionable advice, don't read a bunch of negativity forever or it will whittle you down. Skip things that are sensationalist without offering hope. Being aware is useful, so do it in the best way for you. There are groups likely in your local community fighting the things you're worried about. Look them up. Is the Working Families Party active in your area? Is SURJ? Project Nia has a lot of materials available on their site; free PDFs and educational materials/toolkits about community and organizing. Even if you don't join any of these organizations, you can access the resources they provide. You may learn there are a ton of people dealing with a struggle you share. You can learn phrases to look up that you didn't know the meaning of before. Some of my favorite info from these resources are about forming deliberate community and how-to maintain it. Cause it has to be maintainable and we can't just rely on chance. It helped me just to know there are people out here working on these things and have been the whole time. <3

I am so serious when I say that now is the time to take your activism offline. I am not spending the next four years squabbling on social media or getting woke points by reblogging posts that my followers already agree with. There are real places in your offline community where you can do good if you seek them out

[s-4pphics]

drenched in white. (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: after all your time alone, you’re finally not, but you’re definitely not prepared for your new life. [jackson AU]

WORD COUNT: 7.1K

WARNINGS: readers mute and taller than ellie, death, murder, blood, mentions of alcohol/starvation/hypothermia, a bit of gore, near death experience, trauma and sadness, brief girls kissing, some fluff because kids :)

A/N: tbh idk where this came from but i missed ellie so yeah prob wont write anymore of this but yeah 

—

Apocalypses are fucking stupid.

Humans are born into nothing, forced to run all their lives from blood-lustful beasts that can rewire their entire brain chemistry into one that sadistically matches theirs, and if that doesn’t happen, you die anyway with nothing but the clothes on your back and a horse with no rider. That’s fucking stupid. 

You weren’t alive when the world was thriving… presumably so — whatever the old world considered thriving. Those history books you stole in adolescence would argue otherwise, but there were some happy moments. On occasion. Maybe? Whatever. But you weren’t there, and you can only imagine how you would’ve turned out if you were. Would you be married? Have children? Own property? Businesses? Whatever other luxury the old world prioritized although it all seemed exhausting? 

Would you be an addict, a trainwreck, someone who had it all then nothing in the blink of an eye? That seems to be reoccurring in some of those biographies you found about people called celebrities. They have everything then die too young or way too old and eventually fade into a nobody, just like everyone else. History is so heartbreaking. Such cruel fate. 

You’ve been by yourself for a long time. Some would still consider you young, but you feel like a zombie that’s risen from the grave most of the time. You steal and live selfishly and waste your life reading because you can. You’re lucky enough to no longer have anyone you care about. Your recklessness doesn’t hinder anyone but yourself, so you read read read. Sometimes, you hunt for books more than you do for food. You’re not a fighter — it surprises you every day how you haven’t died yet — but a decent amount of people would consider you book smart. This one group you crossed paths with some years ago called you a genius because you’re self-taught in practically everything: reading and writing, starting fires, planting food, sewing, mapping plains. Whenever you’re harmed, you can heal yourself kinda. When you were 14, you stepped on a rusty nail and, instead of living the short remainder of your life as an amputee, you heroed through a disgusting infection that left you ill for 2 weeks, then sewed your own wound up. You couldn’t walk for days. 

That same group also called you mute. 

You don’t think you are, but rightfully so. There’s no one for you to talk to, so you don’t talk, simple as that. Everyone you knew died when you were a kid, maybe 7 or 8 — spending the majority of your life alone and in hiding doesn’t make for much conversation. Plus, the fucks that rule the Earth are nosy as hell. Being as quiet as possible is needed. 

Reading passes time. It’s the last phase of winter, but it’ll be Spring in no time, thanks to the bag you drag through snow: stuffed with one jacket, a rusted chef’s knife, and 46 different novels and counting. 

Your body’s gonna shut down on you. It’s so fucking cold and you’re barely layered but you haven’t finished The Cable Companies, One Hundred and One Best Songs. The pages filled with piano notes are almost enough to make you hear the songs… Or maybe the lack of nutrients is making you hallucinate. Guess you’ll find out when you finish. Just 22 more pages. 

No food, no water, no warmth, no antique piano. You’re fucked any direction you turn. 

There was a small cave somewhere around here. You used to sleep in it during the summer; the dark was always cooler. Maybe it’s buried underneath heaps of snow. You hope not. Fuck. 

The closer you get to the cavern, the grosser the air becomes. Death carries a certain mugginess. Why’d they have to die next to your one retreat? 

You drag and drag on like your legs weigh a ton all the way to the cave and… Great. 

Death and no entrance. Red coats the snow and it reminds you of the twisted tale of Snow White. The decaying carcass of a deer should alarm you, but you only sigh in defeat. Where the fuck are you supposed to read without disturbance? 

You only make it two more steps before you collapse face-first into ice. Your lungs wheeze in pain and you’re trying to get yourself up but you can’t. When you blink, you see colors. 

Is this death? Or karma? A squirrel runs past you just to rub it in. Furry little bitch. 

It’s only when your brain whispers for you to give up that you fully submerge into the snow. Small cries of pain are the only proof of your survival. 

Fuck everything. Fuck people, fuck people that turned into monsters, fuck all the stupid trivial shit that the other world loved so deeply. Call it jealousy. Everything’s for nothing nowadays. 

Your final thought before the world goes dark. 

—

Why is there annoying beeping in heaven? 

Maybe you’re naive in believing you made it there. Maybe this is hell. You thought it’d be more fucked up than this. The beeping is irritating though. Besides that, it’s peaceful. 

Is this an in between world? Half dead, half not. You remember being into paranormal shit in horror stories years ago. Ghostly entities and whatnot. Maybe you’re… that. There’s whispers in the background. Bleary and distant but you kinda hear them. Maybe someone’s conjuring you up. Why you of all people? 

“— ne… de…” 

Need? Your ears are failing. Why is everything suddenly hurting? Pain in your eyes and behind them and all the way down. It’s hurting everywhere. 

“—Jus… there… Not sure.” 

It’s hurts so bad everywhere make it stop make it stop —

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

White overtakes your vision. Too bright and too cold and you can’t stop heaving but you want to because it fucking hurts everywhere

“Hey! Hey! Calm—” 

The voices are clearer and so is the beeping and so is the pain. Gentle hands land on your shoulders and you thrash when faces, needles and medical equipment clear in your vision. There’s something sharp in your arm. Where the fuck when the fuck how —

“You needa calm down—“

You try to tell this blonde freak to go fuck herself but your voice is shot, coughing and spit flying everywhere. 

“The fuck is her probl—“

“Be quiet—“

A crackling scream ripples through you, tears streaming down your face because suddenly more hands are holding you down. Malicious intent or not it makes you fucking sick. The beeping only gets faster. 

“MY — my name’s Maria! Listen to me! My name’s Maria! Some of mine went out on patrol a few days ago and found you almost buried. We’re tryna help you!” 

You continue to sob but they’re a little less guttural. Her voice is nice. Very motherly. 

“You were halfway dead out there,” She huffs like it’s funny and you wanna throw a chair, “What’s your name? Gotta name?” 

All the hands are off you except Maria’s. Maybe because you’re not trying to kick her face in anymore. You’re trying to tell her you don’t fucking remember but nothing comes out. Just more coughing. 

“Take your time. Deep breaths, shhh, you’re alright.” 

You finally meet her eyes and they’re pretty. Pale blue like spring water. The beeping starts to slow bit by bit. It took you all this time to realize that’s your heart. You glimpse at the monitor and… those squiggly lines mean fuck all to you. Why couldn’t you just die?

Your eyes travel, albeit less frantically, but on high guard. Skeptical as ever. You couldn’t even defend yourself against these incredibly polite barbarians if you wanted to. Your bag’s gone. Everything that’s yours is gone. The beeps increase all over again. Maria must sense your anxiety. 

“Hey, hey, we have everything. We just had to make sure you were… alright to come in. No bites or nothing, ‘k?” 

… Fair. Whatever. Gimme my shit. 

“We were snoopin’,” Your vision follows the new voice. A man this time, average sized and bearded, “Ya like t’read?” 

You squint and nod. 

“‘S a good habit.” 

… Awkward. It’s quiet now. 

“How ya feelin’? Any pain?” Maria pries gently. You shrug. Not as bad as it was 2 minutes ago. You eye everyone in here, study as much of them as you can. Face, hands, guns latched around their thighs and shoved in their belts. They’re all threats while simultaneously being unthreatening. For now, at least. 

“Y’all can get on. I got it from here.” She waves the remaining people off and they leave with tense smiles. The door clicks behind them. The beeping is the slowest it’s been since you woke up. 

“Bout that name…” 

You only stare at her. 

“Don't remember?”

You scratch at your neck, and she sighs, “Not much of a talker, huh?” 

You mime writing in a notepad, and Maria quirks with interest. She searches the room before digging through a drawer on the farthest dresser. She returns with a small book and marker. 

The aches in your fingers don’t halt your scribbling. You turn the book towards her. 

ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME? 

The corner of her mouth lifts, “No point in fixin’ ya up if that was the case. No offense, but you’re not threatening.” 

You snort. 

“You been by yourself for a while?” 

You ponder before scribbling. 

I WATCHED MY FAMILY DIE. PRETTY FUCKED UP CHILDHOOD. I’M ALWAYS ALONE. 

She stares sympathetically and shakes her head in apologies. All you can do is shrug. You’d be more surprised if a kid grew up in this world without experiencing mass destruction. Trauma practically raised you. 

“There’s not many people that can do what you do, y’know? You gotta gift.” She jerks her chin at the booklet. “Somebody taught’cha?” 

You point to yourself. 

“Don’t let that head get big now.” She smirks and you smile sorta. 

“We got kids…” Maria blindly points towards the door. 

“A lot of ‘em, and we’ve been tryna get them to read more but… I don’t know, some of these old bastards think it’s pointless and that discourages them.”

Oh. 

“I don’t know what you got goin’ on out there, but… If you choose to go back out there, I won’t fault you, but if you don’t…” 

Uh oh. 

“How do you feel ‘bout teaching toddlers their ABCs?” 

… Shit. 

You scowl. 

“I know it’s not the best… position to be in but, I don’t know, I just want something they can look forward to everyday. A new story, some new conversations… anything to get their little brains crankin’.” 

“They’re so sweet and I feel like they’d gain so much from someone who cares just as much as they do.” 

You don’t write anything. Her pupils shroud with dejection. 

“Think about it?” She’s quick to turn away, but not without one last look over her shoulder, “Rest up.” 

And the door closes. Your eyes shut in no time, and a comforting darkness overtakes you once more. 

—

Leave with nothing but your annotated novels or stay where you’re well fed and warm but surrounded by snotty nosed orphans. Something to think about. 

You’ve been in Jackson — you learned the town is called — for less than 48 hours, most of which you were recovering from a severe case of hypothermia. You don’t remember the last time you had a meal that hot. Maria had to reassure you that no one would take your plate. 

You still haven’t given Maria a clear answer for her teaching proposal, but she doesn’t bug you about it. She is very eager to show you the daycare though. She’s subtle. You respect it. 

Your books are still couped up in the infirmary because, frankly, you hate dragging them everywhere. Maria offered for you to keep them in the library, but you refused. They’re not up for grabs; You nearly died for every single one of those pages and you’ll be damned if someone touches them under your nose. They’re yours. It’s all you got right now. 

You might even leave with a horse if Maria still likes you after telling her no to teaching. Tomorrow morning will wrap up your little dead-then-alive journey. Couldn’t hurt to ask. 

It’s your first time back outside since your near-death experience. The sun is barely peeking from behind the clouds and your face is so cold it’s almost retraumatizing, but it’s pretty out. Maria was nice enough to give you new boots that weren’t hanging on by their laces. 

Jackson bustles like a real, non-apocalyptic town. Lights shine and pick-ups honk and people are fucking smiling? Maybe this is heaven. 

Those walls… They’re still high and barricaded. Scouts babysit those gates like clockwork. To think you were on the other side of their scrutiny just a day ago. The twinkling sound of joy confuses the fuck outta you. Laughter. Not only that, but from children. Not starving, nearly dead children, but well-fed, genuinely happy kids. Why does your stomach twist with jealousy? They deserve peace, of course, but so did you. So does every child. 

Your eyes search for them — curiosity overtakes your limbs and you step with determination, guided by your ears. The twinkles grow in volume — there must be at least 10 kids playing in the snow. 

“HEY! GET OFF, YOU FU—“

“Language!”

“HOW’S THIS FOR LANGU—“

“BOYS! ENOUGH! I’M SICK OF YOUR SHI—!”

“LANGUAGE, MS. DINA!”

“I CAN SAY THAT! YOU CAN’T!”

What a sight this is. Happy kids. Your heart swells. Slightly; you’re glad Maria isn’t here to catch your fondness. 

“Alright, vermins, get up, I’ll miss the party.” 

“5 more minutes, pleeease!”

“I’m not freezing for you. C’mon!” 

The kids seem to love Ms. Dina. They dangle off every single one of her limbs, begging her to throw at least 10 more snowballs. Maybe your ice-cold heart isn’t as frosty as you thought. The sight is disgustingly endearing. 

“Ms. Dina… Who’s that?” 

And the laughter stops. A bunch of eyes attached to tiny bodies all gawk at you, some with intrigue, others with fear as they cower behind their teacher… babysitter? Whoever she is. 

“Not sure, dove. You all have 10 minutes!” 

“20!”

“10 or freeze to death! Go!”

Excited screams filter through the wind when said vermins squabble in snow like puppies, pushing and shoving and chucking icy bullets at each other. You never had to worry about being the oddball out, but you sure do look like one now. 

“Hey. Maria told us about a scrounger.” 

Creases bunch in your forehead, and Dina raises her hands defensively, “Joking, relax. So, are you staying, or…?” You shrug unknowing, and Dina chuckles. 

“I think you should. If I had the option to stay here 24/7, I’d take it in a heartbeat. We could use an extra hand with the kids. Maria said you read?” 

You nod. “Cool. We have a decent amount of readers — more than most, but, uh… yeah. Our kids need help.”

Your lip twitches alongside your pondering. So many questions rest on your tongue but none can leave. Dina’s eyes are consoling. It shouldn’t spark irritation in your stomach but it does. 

“Do you sign?” 

You stare in confusion, and she elaborates, “Like… Sign language?” Her hands make a bunch of gestures you don’t understand and your head shakes. 

“Darn. No worries. If you’re ever interested in learning, just holler. We got some people that are hard of hearing so we all kinda use it occasionally. But, umm… yeah. I’m Dina.” She extends a polite hand but you don’t accept it. Your head jerks in greeting, and she smiles. 

She drops it back to her side, “What should we call you?” 

You don’t know. You don’t care. You’re not staying long. Your shoulders rise and fall nonchalantly. 

“Should I have them pick?” 

Before you can oppose, she’s hollering for— 

“DYLAN! COME HERE!”

A rascal with a beanie and bright red boots sprints towards the two of you. His cheeks are so plush and scarred. Dina fixes the color of his sweater, “Dylan, what’s a good name for a teacher?” 

“Ms. Dina, obviously—“

“Another name.” 

Chipmunk Boy ponders for a moment before snickering, “Mr. Octopus.” 

“Fucking hell—“

“Language, Ms. Dina! SWEAR JAR—“

“We don’t even do that here!”

“Okay, okay… just call them Dove or something! Don’t think we don’t notice you calling us that when you forget our names!” 

Dina’s eyes widen, “That’s not true! What the… freak!” 

Red-Boot-Ranger smirks when Dina catches herself before getting pelted at the back of the head with a snowball. 

“Little BITCH—“

Dina shouts, “HEY!—“

“MS. DINA, FRANKIE CURSED!”

“NO, I DIDN’T—“

Arguments break out between all 13 children, loud and boisterous and your head pounds. Too much for one day. 

“STOP— sorry, I gotta handle this, but it was nice meeting you! BOYS—“ 

Dina throws you one last wave before rushing off to scold Dylan and his… bully? You think that’s what they were called in some books you read. A kid messing with another kid or something like that. 

You take this last bit of alone time before you depart to explore. 

Despite your eagerness to disappear, Jackson is nice. You don’t know what Christmas entails, but it’s often described as festive: a day for togetherness and family and whatever the hell else ‘can’t be bought’ yet everyone buys. Jackson is visually festive. Celebratory scenery. What exactly they’re celebrating goes over your head. There’s nothing to be joyous over. Death traps Jackson at every corner. 

Loud music pulls you from your thoughtful stroll. One look through a very large window is enough to scare you shitless. A seemingly cozy space is filled to the brim with strangers who dance and drink and laugh their heads off; Their familiarity with one another makes you physically ill. The scene is like a bullet to the chest. Reminds you of what was once home.

Your nausea doesn’t overtake your curiosity, though. 

The moment you step into the bar, warmth suffocates you, heat sizzling through your legs as your face defrosts. The entire bar screams out lyrics to a song you never heard while cups get refilled with burning liquid and it’s overwhelming. There’s so much movement. Too much. 

Blonde hair swings out the corner of your eye and you’re instantly relieved. You hustle to where Maria chats with partygoers from across the bar. She’s shocked to see you. 

“Hey! You’re up’n moving!” 

You wave awkwardly. Gawk back at the people that gawk at you before Maria hands you a glass. 

“You drink?” You deny with a raised hand, and she smiles. 

“Probably not the best time to ask,” She hollers over the jukebox, “I’m hoping this is your initiation?” Her eyes are hopeful, and your throat dries a bit. Why are you hesitating to answer?

Maria’s nice enough… probably the nicest stranger you’ve ever met in your entire life, and it seems more comfortable in Jackson than anywhere you’ve been. It doesn’t seem so bad… but you don’t like children. You barely liked yourself at age 10; short and clumsy and vulnerable. Children are too exposed and trusting, even in this life. They get people killed because they’re not careful. It shocks you that a fortress like Jackson carries so many. 

A pen and paper get slid on wood and placed in front of you. You eye Maria, and she nods encouragingly. You waste no time. 

I DON’T THINK I’LL BE A GOOD TEACHER. DINA HAS MORE PATIENCE IN HER PINKY THAN I DO IN MY ENTIRE BODY. I’M SORRY. 

You meekly hold the note up for Maria, and you know she’s disappointed. You patiently wait for her to tell you to get your shit so she can kick you out herself. 

It never comes. 

“I hope that girl didn’t scare you,” In reference to Dina, and you deny, “I had a feeling you’d say no. It’s alright. Kids are… a lot.” 

You set the paper down in relief that she’s not angry. About that horse… 

“Doesn’t hurt to ask… You still wanna leave?” 

That stuns you. Oftentimes, large groups aren’t so welcoming to… scroungers, or whatever Dina made you out to be. The less mouths to feed, the better. If a newbie holds no purpose, they’re left out to die on their own. It’s happened to you countless times. Why does she care about a stranger so much?

Maria chuckles at your stunned expression, “It’s, um… it’s hard out there. We’ve all seen it, and we’re lucky to have found somewhere… stable. It doesn’t come often.” 

“The choice is still yours, stayin’ or goin’, but if you’re scared I’ll kick you out… don’t be. We got nothin’ but space.” 

Your mind races yet not one cohesive response comes through. Maria laughs at your slack jaw. “Here. Sleep on it tonight, and let me know in the mornin’. It’s a party! Let loose a little. Go mingle.“

You scribble on the last bit of remaining space. 

I’M NOT A PEOPLE PERSON. 

Maria huffs, “Neither’s my niece. She’s like a niece to me, that one, over there.” She points at the end of the bar to a woman, girl — looks around your age, babysitting a drink: tatted, hair pulled back, and sulking. She talks with a guy with a mullet that’s too movie-star ready. “You two’d get along, I think. Her name’s Ellie. Jesse’s the one next to her, he’s a sweetheart. Very helpful. If Dina was here, they’d be the Three Musketeers. She still with the kids?”

You nod, but your eyes are locked onto Ellie’s tattoo. You’ve never seen one in person. In romance books, people with tattoos are always trouble: good in bed with murderous tendencies. Maybe it’s wrong to assume, but Ellie doesn’t seem like that. No one that pouty would kill a fly. You wonder if her friend has tattoos. He’d fit the stereotype more.

“Wanna meet ‘em?” 

Fire bursts underneath your cheeks. You vehemently shake your head at Maria, and mischief glints in her eyes. 

“HEY, ELLIE, JES—“

You gawk at Maria, tugging at her wrist for her to stop, but she laughs, “Hey, you two!”

Your face falls into your palm. “Need somethin’, Maria?” A deep voice blares. Jesse, apparently. Fucking great.  

“No, hun. Just introducing a new friend,” Maria whispers loud enough for you to hear before tending to other patrons, “Convince her to stay?” 

Your eyes roll and your heart pulses. 

“… Hey.” 

You wave weakly. Annoyed, and Jesse laughs. “Yeah, she’s a lot sometimes. I’m Jesse.” You send him a thumbs up. 

“… Gotta name yourself?”

You shrug with agitation. If someone else asks you that, you’ll scream. 

“… Hm. Okay, then. I’m gonna get another drink. Want one?” You decline as politely as your attitude allows. 

“You, El?” 

“M’good.” 

“Alright,” He hums too uppity, “Enjoy the quiet.” He goofs before following Maria to the other end of the bar. Silence ensues between you and Ellie, and it’s fucking awkward. It wouldn’t be if you were by yourself. You pick at the piece of paper in front of you. 

Ellie adjusts her stance, attention on the dance that dominates the floor, her tatted arm propping her up against the bar. You can see the fine lines out the corner of your eye: leaves of a fern resting underneath a moth. A Polyphemus. Compulsive. A symbol of death, you once read somewhere. Regardless, it’s beautifully done. 

“Want a picture?” 

You stiffen and your gaze drops to the paper. Your eyelids squeeze shut in embarrassment. 

Ellie releases a hefty breath before sighing, “You read?” She asks, and you shrug. 

“You don’t talk?” You do nothing. 

She already sounds annoyed by you. You hope she notices you’re in the same boat. “It’s better if you don’t.” She mumbles to herself. You throw a glare in her direction, but she pays you no mind. She’s focused elsewhere, eyes much more delicate. You discreetly follow her line of vision. 

… Dina. Hilarious. Is she a god here? Good with children and the annoying and aloof? Everyone here claps and hoots at her being dipped by her partner like they’ve never seen dancing before. When did she even get here? Where are the kids? Maybe they’re all snowballed out and went to bed—

… What. What the fuck? You don’t care, what the hell. 

You turn back to Ellie when Dina waves at her, wide-eyed and princess-y, before waltzing towards Jesse to throw her arms around his neck, which he eagerly returns around her waist. Ellie’s expression goes from lovestruck to tense in an instant, jaw clenched and eyes burning through the floor. You try to hide a snicker. 

Ellie’s jealous. Adorable. 

“The fuck are you smiling for?” She grumbles at you, but her cheeks burn under the yellow light. Your laughter finally bubbles over. 

“Nothing’s funny. Shut the fuck—“

“Well, what’d I tell you! Two wallflowers hittin’ it off! Look at that smile!” 

Maria graciously interrupts Ellie’s angered mantra. Your hand hides your grin before a light hand brushes your back. You flinch away on instinct. No one notices except Ellie. 

Dina greets you first and you almost holler with joy, “Hey, Dove! Sorry I didn’t come over earlier! Had to get this circus goin’ since no one else did,” She casually takes Ellie’s glass and downs its contents with no problem, “Thank you.” 

“Such a dick.” Ellie says slowly, and Dina smiles. “You love me.” 

You pinch your smile away. 

“Dove?” Maria inquiries. 

Dina shrugs, “Better than Doe. Makes her sound like a corpse. Dove’s cute.”

“Cute for a bitch,” Ellie slips under her breath, and Dina slaps her arm in scolding. Tames her until she quiets like an actual bitch. This shit is hilarious. 

“I like that. Dove.” Maria approves. “It’s… fitting. Joel found her buried in white, so.” 

“Okay, Mrs. Poet—“

Maria’s married? Huh. 

She hushes Dina playfully. The dark-haired girl interlaces Ellie’s fingers with hers before yanking her off the bar and onto the dance floor. The music slows as if cued just for them. Dina pulls Ellie into her, and Ellie’s hands rest on her waist. 

Dina leads, surprisingly. 

Ellie’s expression doesn’t scream delight. She’s nerve wracked and her eyes flit over every body that surrounds her with anxiety. Even yours. 

Dina’s a good distraction. She's quite seductive when she brushes loose hair behind Ellie’s ear, caresses her cheek, touches her with tenderness that you’ve only seen described on paper. Only in your imagination was it real. 

Kisses her.

Oh. 

You turn away. Your skin’s hot. Maria’s distracted. Thank God. You’ve had enough mingling for tonight. You leave the bar without a trace, the pen and paper left on the stand the only evidence of your appearance. 

“Hey! HEY! Ms. Dina’s friend!”

“They’re not friends, she just got here—“

“Shut up! Ms. Dina always said respect your olders—“

“Elders, dumbfuck. And she doesn’t look old—“

Ah, the potty-mouthed bully. Although, he doesn’t seem so threatening in the darkness. Children are the bane of your existence. You’re nowhere near the infirmary. Why are they out in the cold by themselves? 

“Hey, Ms. Dina’s friend, how was the party! Ms. M said we aren’t allowed to go in because people are… drunk, whatever that means!” 

The same voice from earlier. Red-boot-Ranger. Dylan. 

“It means they’re alcoholics—“ A girl this time. Shorter than Dylan but just as expressive. 

“I thought alcohol made people happy?“

“Could be, but my aunt drank herself to death so I guess it’s different for everyone!” 

Goddamn. 

“What’s your name, miss! … Ma’am?” Dylan corrects shyly. 

“Ma'am means grandma—“

“Ruth, shut the hell up, Jesus!” 

“NO, YOU SHUT UP—“

Dylan waits expectantly while the other two kids attempt to rip each other’s heads off. You flap your hands like wings. 

“… Fly? Your name’s fly?” 

You shake your head and point upward. 

“OH! Sky!—“

You wave your hands in denial and flap your arms while squawking. 

“… Bird? Bald Eagle? Um…” 

You yank at your hair in exasperation before pointing down at untouched, white snow beneath your feet. 

“Snow? Snow bird? Uhh… Swan… Lake?”

Decent guess. This fucking sucks. 

“I don’t know what your name is, miss, I’m sorry.” Fucking Christ, the poor thing looks so upset. You’re suddenly the worst human being on the planet. “Are you mad at me?” Dylan asks, voice laced with insecurity, and something cracks in your chest. What the fuck. Your hands wave in denial apprehensively, and he exhales a held breath before smiling. 

“I like you! Why don’t you talk?” 

You sigh before scribbling on your palm like you did with Maria, and all three kids excitedly demand writing utensils from each other. 

“I DON’T HAVE A MARKER!” Frankie hisses when Ruth slaps him on the shoulder. 

“DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SUCH AN ASS? FREAKO!”

“Freako! ARE YOU FIVE—“

“What are you kiddos still doin’ up?” 

“MR. JOEL!”

Ruth and Dylan practically jump onto this old man and he groans mockingly. Joel. Hm. 

“You’re all supposed to be sleep. Did Dina not tuck you in?”

“She did, but we snuck out. We’re bored! Please throw snowballs at us!” Frankie whines. 

Joel calmingly caters to the children and their hyperactivity; his voice is very soothing. Gentle enough for the kids to accept that he’s not chucking snowballs at them this late at night. 

Joel addresses you. “Maria decided to keep you ‘round?” 

It was him. His eyes are calm and welcoming, but there’s a hollowness behind them. It’s hardly noticeable, but he’s bothered by something. He masks it well enough for the kids. He must be a dad. Maybe one of them is his. You just shrug, and he chuckles; crackles like fire. Breaks a bit. His eyes grow sadder the longer he stares at you. Is this man about to cry? 

“I’ll, uh… I’ll walk ‘em back,” He nods at Dylan who’s already half asleep on his shoulder, and you nod. He gives you one last look before turning. You clutch onto his hand before he can go any further. He seems shocked by the gesture, but you squeeze it with all your might. You hope every clench reads as a thank you thank you thank you. 

He swallows before nodding down at you, returning your gentle squeezes. The last breath he takes before leading the kids home is unsteady. Who broke that poor man’s heart? 

You watch his back all the way down the trail until the door to the bar slams shut. It’s Ellie all bundled up and seemingly about to strangle somebody. You can see Dina and Jesse scrambling to follow her through the window, but Ellie’s determined to get the fuck outta range. 

You don’t know why, but you whistle loud enough to get her attention. Her cheeks are blazing and her eyes are pained and angry. 

“The fuck do you want?” Her breath frosts with each spit she throws. You’re not really sure, so you throw her a thumbs up. Two just in case she read it as good work instead of are you good? 

She scoffs a laugh that sounds like a sob, “Fuck off.” And she’s off again. The opposite direction from Joel. 

Alright. Fuck her too. 

—

The past 5 days have been a blur. 

The morning after the party, your brain wracked to put every single interaction together but came up short. So much happened that you can barely grasp it. You died, came back, met at least 100 people, experienced acute peer pressure, and got cussed out by some short, tattooed psychopath with an equivalent amount of people skills as you. 

You’ve met teachers, medical professionals, rambunctious kids with a hunger similar to rhinos, a potential dad with an insane amount of patience, but all you can think about is Ellie and her fucking tattoo. 

You think that same moth appeared in your dream last night, flapping around and pissing you off. 

Maria’s been in a good mood, at least. Maybe because you’re staying in Jackson until further notice. You’re glad she didn't make a big deal about it: the inquiry was short and over breakfast the morning after the party. You slid her note that read CAN I STAY?, she said yes, and now you have a two story home all to yourself, floor stacked to the ceiling with your books and some she lent you. 

The first thing you did after she left was scream bloody murder for no reason other than relief. After years of instability, you finally have something consistent. You don’t know how to react to that besides weeping. 

There’s only one downside. Ellie’s your neighbor. Life will always humble you. 

She’s the first person you see every morning and the last every night and you hate it. The only time you experience true peace is when she’s out on patrol. To think you assumed Ellie wasn’t violent. She returned one morning on her horse covered knee-high in blood as she wiped her switchblade on her dirtied jeans. Even Jesse seemed intimidated. 

Meanwhile, you’ve been everywhere: tending the garden, handing beers out to men twice your age, fixing lights. Joel even asked for assistance on a car repair even though you’ve never seen one in your life. You both finished, though. Drives good as new. 

You think Dylan’s grown attached. He’s very clingy and you hate it but he also has the chubbiest cheeks you’ve ever seen so you have no choice but to forgive him for his sins. Whenever he jumps on your back while you’re squatted in front of the garden, you just deal with it. He rambles enough for the both of you. 

Now you’re serving dinner with a homophobe. Yippee. 

Seth sucks gorilla balls. When Maria first introduced you both, he thought you were deaf and asked if you had to be put with him. When you glared at him, he went red in the face. You understand why Ellie hates him. Apparently he called her and Dina dykes at the party and she and Joel almost strangled him. The canteen’s already filled with people, but the patrol group hasn’t returned. They usually make it back before sunset, but it’s dark now. Seth’s set on closing the kitchen down, but you decline everytime. They’re probably starving wherever they are. 

It’s not until an hour, then 2 passes when you wrap all 12 of their individual plates. 

You’re scared shitless, but it’s time for Dylan’s bedtime story. 

—

You always have to remind Dylan to keep his volume down during story time so he doesn’t wake the other kids. 

“Why would anyone give up anything magical for a cow? Okay, sure, you’re betting that they actually are magic, but why on Earth? I’d never give away my magic! Am I wrong, Ms. Dove?” 

You smile and deny. 

“SEE! Exactly! Anyway,” He refocuses on the page. “You numbskull! I can’t eat! You ruined my appetite!” 

Dylan’s a great reader, but he loses his place very often. You showed him the follow-your-finger trick and it’s helped, but the poor thing always has to comment on everything. At least he’s entertained. 

You don’t realize you dozed off on the floor until you’re frantically awoken by a teary-eyed Dylan. The big and small babies cry while they barricade the door with blankets and dressers. Your heart sinks. 

“Ms. Dove…” Dylan whispers. 

Screams echo from outside and the windows have orange hues. Something’s burning. 

“Someone bad is outside.” 

The patrol group is back. 

—

You don't meet Clickers often. 

They come and go and kill as they please and you don’t bother them, simply take your plans in the opposite direction as stealthy as possible. Even with your avoidance, they somehow always find their way back to you. Back to everyone. 

You hear everything from the daycare; hollering, gunshots, Clickers wailing, but you can’t fucking see. Protocol for a daycare lockdown is fairly simple: turn off the lights and take all the brats up to the nursery. It’s the most child-safe section of the building while simultaneously having a locked drawer filled with glocks. Great. 

Now you’re locked up with whimpering toddlers with a weapon you barely know how to use. If Joel hadn’t done that runthrough with you yesterday, you’d be fucked and so would the kids. You rock Dylan who sits on your lap while hushing the toddlers. You’re doing whatever you can to keep them quiet, but they’re babies who cry a lot. You hum to them, braid their hair, roll scratched-up dice but nothings fucking working. You never thought you’d regret staying in Jackson this early on. 

The younger ones start wailing when pounding on wood echoes from downstairs. Dylan holds you closer. 

Protocol is simple. 

Don’t open the door. Maria told you that. Keep it locked and don’t open it. 

The thuds get louder and so do the children and panic bombards you. It’s starting to feel too familiar. Those bangs are so fucking loud. Toddlers to 13 year olds are looking to you for guidance while you’re crumbling. How do you make them stop crying why won’t they stop fucking crying— 

Someone’s trying to beat the door down. Dylan’s practically choking you with his little arms as he sobs quietly into your neck. You don’t realize you’re crying until a small hand wipes your face and tiny bodies snuggle closer to you. 

Are you going to die surrounded by children all over again? One time wasn’t enough, God? The best moment of your life turns to the worst in a matter of seconds. You’ll have to run away like you did the first time. You should’ve never slid the note asking for more time with the kids under Maria’s door, fuck fuck fuck—

3 deafening pops bang from outside, and then there’s silence. It sounds like wood is breaking and there’s footsteps rushing upstairs and the babies are screaming so loud. When the nursery door lock gets shot off, Dylan screams right in your ear. 

“EVERYBODY OUT, LET’S GO!” 

“Mr. Tommy!” Relief washes over your kids before they start hustling. 

“OUT, OUT, LET’S GO!” 

All the kids scramble to grab their coats and socks and boots before rushing out of the nursery. Your hands won’t stop shaking. You barely get onto your feet before Tommy shoves you against the wall with fire for pupils. 

“You never fuckin’ wait to die when there’s kids around, you understand me!” 

You’re nodding but you can’t hear because you’re still sobbing. “Whatever bullshit you learned outside is over with now. It don’t matter what happens, always give them a chance to live even if it means you’re done!”

Tommy doesn’t waste another second on you. He leaves with a tense back and a rifle and you allow yourself to break. You heave and sob because that’s all you could do when you were a child and your brothers and sister were all killed in front of you. 

—

You vacate the daycare hours later. The doors need fixing. 

Your head and eyes hurt terribly but nothing compares to the emptiness in your chest. Maria told you that the kids would be separated into different houses until the daycare is safe for them again. Even she stares at you with disapproval despite her indifferent tone.

You feel like a ghost on the walk back home. Your hands are clenched in fists and your breathings slow. Why didn’t you stay downstairs and check the windows to make sure there were no intruders? Why weren’t you holding the gun in preparation for battle? Why’d you allow the kids to believe you couldn’t protect them? 

Because you couldn’t. In that moment, you were a child all over again, just as lost and confused and scared as they were. It was all too familiar. 

Jackson’s asleep, minus the painful groaning coming from behind Ellie’s home. 

You’re immediately in defense. So many patrol members had to go to the infirmary after their arrival. Maria never mentioned anything about Ellie. 

Your concern carries your feet until you round the corner, and her gun’s already drawn and pointed at you. That barely shakes you; it’s what surrounds her thats confusing.

She’s leant back against the foundation of her home surrounded by towels, a large bottle of clear liquid, and her profusely bleeding, non-tattooed arm that wraps around her stomach. 

When you take a cautious step toward her, her gun clicks. Her eyes are vicious and untrustworthy, and you know she’d kill you in a second. She watches every move you make down to the ragged rise and fall of your chest. You’re unsure how long you stand there before she winces in pain. It’s slight but you catch it. You slowly point to the open wound on her forearm. 

“What.” She rasps. You mime wrapping a bandage on yourself. Her snicker is pained. 

“Get the fuck outta here. You done enough for tonight.” 

You swallow thickly, unmoving. 

“Fuck off before I blow your brains out.” 

You take 2 more steps. 

“GET THE FU—“

When your knees hit the snow in front of her, she’s stunned silent. You’re already reaching for the bandage and bottle of disinfectant. You can’t see her injury that well, but she might need stitches if it’s still that bloody. When you reach for her injured arm, she pushes you into the snow. You groan in frustration before getting up and trying again. 

Ellie swallows a pained noise and maneuvers her injury away the closer you get. You’re trying to help her! Why’s she being so difficult! You crack open the disinfectant and your nose instantly burns. You gasp before moving the bottle away from your face. 

“Just go the fuck home, goddamnit—“

That’s not disinfectant. It’s acid. 

Ellie’s gun is still on you, but she’s not as steady. There’s a tremor in her weapon and her bottom lip is pinched between her teeth. Any movement she makes seems to hurt her. 

You move closer, and Ellie wheezes like an injured gazelle. It’s not until you see the small indentation when you realize her bleeding isn’t from a knife or a gun. 

Those are teeth marks. 

Ellie got bit. Your heart thrashes and your legs beg you to run. 

You know, and she knows you know. It’s a misunderstanding, it has to be. A human or a dog or a bear bit her, not a Clicker, not one of them. 

She smirks but it’s sinister. 

“If you tell anyone, I’ll tear out your windpipe and feed it to one of those fuckers.” Her head jerks towards the gate, and as if on command, the lot of them squeal into the night like hyenas. 

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

I've been watching random videos on YouTube that keep popping up and the comments and the hate on Lando is so out of proportion, controversial and hypocritical, I saw a comment that he is too active online and was liking hate comments about himself after BrazilGP so I was wondering if you could do a smau where he has a friend that has faced slvtshaming and hate and stayed soft and sweet through all her hard times, and she is always there just grounding him whenever he's too much on his head or isolating himself. Maybe she helps him with his anxiety and makes him see himself through a softer gentle light and she's just really chill and always sees the silver lining, always supports and uplifts everyone and the content that she follows is just girls that go on walks, yoga, reading nooks, shops of handmade stuff like those in cotswolds etc. I don't know if it's too much or uncomfortable for you, but I'd really like to see that if you could. Oh and maybe she's Edinburgh based? Have a nice one! X

peace ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

𓍯 ִֶָ ln x reader ᥫ᭡

𓍯 ִֶָ smau + fluff ᥫ᭡

masterlist ☾☼

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landonorris

liked by yourusername, mclaren, and 901,573 others

landonorris resetting. thank you for the reminder yourusername

view all 711,900 comments

yourusername Anytime, you big dummy. Did you bring the tea I packed for you? 💨☕ 

user1 y/n's the real MVP. Lando's gonna feel way too zen here! 💙 

user2 We love a supportive friendship. Keep going, mate! Ignore the noise. 🌟

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landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, lnfour, and 884,012 others

landonorris Not the weekend I hoped for, but we move. Thank you to everyone who sticks by me even on the tough days. 🧡

view all 902,811 comments

user5 Ignore the haters, Lando, you’re doing great!! 💪🏽

user3 How is he liking hate comments about himself? 😒 Weird behavior.

user4 Sometimes people cope in strange ways. Let’s try to give grace. 💛

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, user10, and 7,421 others

yourusername Anxiety feels like a storm, but it passes if you stay grounded. 🕊️ I remind myself that the world is still soft and beautiful.

view all 3,371 comments

user11 This is the energy I need today. Thank you. 🌱✨

landonorris What if I brought my storm to Edinburgh? Would it pass faster? 👀

yourusername Only if you let me ground you.

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 7,005 others

yourusername Grateful moments, little joys, and grounding souls ✨

view all 2,832 comments

user15 Okay, but Lando looks suspiciously calm in that last pic… y/n, teach us your ways! 🖤

landonorris never realised how fun pottery would be! <3

user16 she's literally my inspiration

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landonorris

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 812,003 others

landonorris Found my peace here. 🕊️ Thanks to yourusername for reminding me the world is softer than I think.

view all 712,032 comments

user18 This is the wholesome content we need. 🧡

yourusername Storms don’t scare me anymore. 😉

landonorris You’re braver than I am.

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hi! thank you so much for reading! i'm not sure if i love this personally, because i don't think i did this justice, but i hope you like it. this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04

[holdmytesseract]

So Close To Love

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: On Tony's Christmas party isn't a certain God able to keep his eyes from you, and yet he can't bring himself to make a move - or can he?

Warnings: alcohol, music? idiots in love, not a happy end but I'd say there's hope, feels, slight thirst?

Word Count: 2,4k

a/n: Merry Christmas, y'all! I hope this lil' present I have for you manages to put a smile on your faces! 🤗🎄

This oneshot is kinda based on that song:

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

divider by @jiyascepter

"Must I really attend this ridiculous Christmas party of that arrogant imbecile, calling himself a-" "Brother," Thor cut Loki off rebukingly. "Enough. Behave yourself, I beg of you. I know you don't wish to attend, but it will be good for you. You have to show interest or Fury might question your probation - once more," the blond Asgardian chided. "It's for your best and you know it. Now come on, get dressed."

Loki rolled his eyes, but deep down knew that his brother was - unfortunately - right. With a soft, annoyed groan he lifted himself off of the comfortable beanbag in his reading corner and closed the book shut he held in his hands. Thor smiled like a Cheshire cat - proud of having convinced his stubborn sibling.

With the snap of Loki's fingers engulfed him an emerald green haze and replaced the sweatpants and t-shirt with black slacks, shiny black dress shoes and a very formfitting shirt - also black. "There. Are you happy now, brother?"

The god of thunder's smile did not cease; one meaty hand reaching out to clap his brother rather harshly on the shoulder. "Yes, I am. Let us join the party!" Thor already marched towards the main door. "I bet Lady Y/N will be present as well," he added with a small wink and stomped out of Loki's apartment. The raven haired god rolled his eyes once again, "Oaf." but couldn't shake the nervous feeling and anticipation flame up inside him. If you were truly going to be there... His heart skipped a beat at the mere thought. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. A goddess. An angel walking the earth. And your sweet, kind and selfless personality... How you conquered his heart without even knowing...

"Brother!" "Oh, for Norns sake, I am coming!"

"Okay, what do you think?" You stepped out of your bathroom; taking a deep breath. You slowly twirled in a circle then; showing off the dress you chose to wear for Tony's Christmas party to Nat and Wanda. Red - fitting the topic.

Both your best friend's jaws dropped. You giggled. "Good or horrible?" "Neither, babes. This is... stunningly sexy, yet cute." Wanda nodded; agreeing with the Russian spy. "Absolutely." You looked down yourself. "Yeah? Really? It's not too much?" "No. Not if you try to attract the attention of a certain man - or should I say god?" You reached over and threw a pillow your friend's way; hitting her square on the stomach. "Shut up, Nat! He isn't interested in me - and we all know that." You walked back inside the bathroom to check a last time on your hair, but actually desperately tried to hide the blush on your face - because Natasha was right.

While you tried to flee, exchanged the Widow a knowing look with the Scarlet Witch; both women suppressing their giggles. They knew. Of course, they knew.

The party was already in full swing, as you stepped through the opened doors of Tony's penthouse apartment. The band in the corner - dressed in fancy golden shimmering suits played some classical Christmas songs, but also normal music. You saw waiters paving their ways through the crowd of Avengers, rich people and several hot shots of the American government, SHIELD and the military. They held glasses of champagne and fancy little snacks on trays. Some people already occupied the dance floor, others were chatting or nursing drink after drink at the festively decorated bar. It smelled like expensive alcohol, rich cologne and remnants of cold smoke. It was awful.

You were an Avenger and had every right to attend this party - and yet you felt so out of place.

"Come on, babes. Let's get a drink and have some fun," Natasha's voice ripped you out of your thoughts; feeling her tug you after her. You didn't even protest and followed your best friends; greeting Steve, Tony, Pepper and Bucky on the way.

Thor and Loki were seated on a creme white leather sofa across the room; close to the huge French door, which led to the roof garden. Both men had a drink in their hands. While the blond god chatted enthusiastically with Dr. Jane Foster and a few other... scientists, Loki found himself utterly bored; having to witness his brother's lousy attempts at flirting. He rolled his eyes subtly, and brought the glass in his hand to his lips in order to take a sip of the alcoholic liquid - and almost choked.

His eyes had travelled across the spacious apartment, and had landed directly on you. The raven haired god hadn't spotted you before, but now that he did, he felt like he could barely breathe. You wore a stunningly beautiful red dress, which highlighted your curves to perfection and suited your whole appearance. Loki couldn't help but to stare; distracted by your looks and the sweet smile upon your lips, which managed to turn his knees into jelly.

"You should ask her to dance, you know." Thor's quietened voice suddenly urged to his ears. He noticed how close his brother had slid over to him on the sofa; his gaze directed on you as well. Loki scoffed and played it cool; downing the rest of his Martini. "Why in Odin's name should I do that, brother? I can tell there already is a line with men wanting to dance with her. See all those rich sycophants eye-fucking her?" He jutted his head at a group of men in tuxedos; standing only a few bar tables away. Thor's eyes followed. "I bet they'd do everything to get her attention and lure her into their 'honey-trap'. She doesn't need another one."

"Why don't you make sure to get her before they can, brother? Are you truly willing to lose the Lady of your interest to such vile men?" The raven haired god stood up from the sofa, "You forget that I am no hero, Thor." and walked away without another word; straight to the bar. The blond god only shook his head in disbelief.

The evening progressed; alcohol flew and caused the party to get wilder. By now, almost everybody had fun on the makeshift dance floor - no matter the song. Loki, though, was still sitting alone at the bar; glad that nobody had approached him. After all, he had just attended the party because it was the 'best for him' and good for his reputation. Which reputation? The god asked himself; almost starting to chuckle. He hated it to be here and yet he hadn't left.

The reason was simple...

He found himself unable to avert his eyes from you. He tried, but failed gloriously. Loki watched you dance with one man after the other - all of them besuited billionaire playboys; each of them trying to flatter and impress you more. As if it was a competition. He could already feel the bile rising in his throat by the mere look at them. This wasn't the proper way to gain the attention of a lady. Typical mortal men... It disgusted him.

Another feeling he also couldn't shake was jealousy... Yes, he was jealous of that unworthy mortal scum touching you in such an intimate way. Dancing was an art. The expression of feelings and status. Obviously not on Midgard...

What Loki didn't see, though, with being blinded by jealousy and frustration, was that you absolutely didn't enjoy yourself. You hated these... machos just as much as Loki, and yet you were too kind to recline their ask for a dance and your attention.

"Save her." A feminine, quite familiar voice urged to his ears through the music. The god frowned and slowly turned on his bar stool to face the 'intruder'. "What are you talking about, Miss Romanoff?" The Widow's gaze drifted over to you, then back to Loki. "Don't act innocent, Laufeyson. You know exactly what I'm talking about," Nat urged him on just like his brother. She gave the god a smile alongside a wink, ordered another drink and vanished in the crowd again.

A groan of distress left the god's lips; his pointer finger dancing over his bottom lip in thought.

Again he let his eyes wander over to you. His gaze lingered and he felt his chest tightened. No, he couldn't. Swallowing hard, he averted his eyes once again and redirected his attention to the bartender. "Another, please." The friendly man behind the counter nodded and replaced his empty glass with a full one.

Once Loki had downed this drink as well, he stood up with a sigh and turned to finally leave - crashing into another body. Out of instinct, his arms reached out to steady the person he just almost ran over. "Apologies, I-" When the god lifted his gaze and found himself staring into your mesmerising Y/E/C eyes, his breath hitched. "Y-Y/N..." Loki desperately tried to keep it together; clearing his throat. "I did not mean to run into you. Again, my apologies." He didn't notice that his palms were still gently gripping your upper arms - but you did; having a hard time to hide the blush on your cheeks.

"N-No! No need to apologise. I-I mean, I should've watched where I'm going as well, so..." You smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear - a nervous habit. "It's fine, really." That was a lie. In fact, nothing was fine. Your heart was running a marathon; the sudden encounter caused your feelings to run wild.

Loki gave you a small smile as well, "Very well." and cleared his throat, as he noticed that he was still holding you; quickly letting go of you.

Your skin tingled where he had touched you, and you couldn't deny that you were already longing for his touch again.

An awkward moment of silence between the two of you passed, but before any of you could say something, the lights in the apartment got suddenly dimmed and the music changed.

I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight I've never seen you shine so bright, mhm-hmm

Some might say it gave off romantic vibes. Major romantic vibes...

From the corner of your eyes you could see couples starting to sway together to the famous soft rock song.

I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance

Loki swallowed hard and licked his lips; heart threatening to break free from his ribcage. "Dance with me," the god suddenly uttered; mouth working faster than his brain could think. "Please." Your gaze lifted to meet his again - and feared you were going to drown in those beautiful blues. "Yes." It was your heart speaking.

The handsome god gave you another soft smile, before he gently reached for your hand and took a few steps backwards; pulling you gently with him and away from the bar.

And I have never seen that dress you're wearing Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes I have been blind

Loki's hand found your waist then; his other hand engulfing your smaller one. You bit your lip and placed your free hand on his black shirt clad shoulder. Together, you started to sway to the music.

The lady in red Is dancing with me, cheek to cheek

It felt so different. Different from any other man you had danced with tonight. It felt right. How gentle, yet firm Loki's touch was. How he guided you over the dance floor. The way his hand held yours. It was overwhelming.

Almost shyly you lifted your head; eyes locking with those endless blues of his. And once more you felt yourself drowning. No words were exchanged. Neither of you had to. You could read it on the god's face; saw it in his eyes.

The dozens of other people faded into a blur around you. It was just you and Loki. Nobody else existed in that very moment.

You could feel yourself closing the distance between you further; your head resting against his firm shoulder. Loki's heart skipped several beats - unbeknownst to you. And he certainly did not reject the invitation. He let the hand on your waist slowly glide to rest on the small of your back; pushing you even closer against his body. You were so close now that you could smell his intoxicating cologne with every breath you took. Leather, charred wood and something citrusy. It caused your head to spin.

You could also feel his definitely unsteady breath against the burning hot skin of your cheek - and you could swear you could still smell the remnants of alcohol. Martini?

Without even noticing had your gaze dropped to his lips; wondering how they would feel against yours. Wondering how he'd taste.

Perhaps Loki was able to read your mind. Or he could feel it to. Whatever it was, it urged him on to lower his head; nose grazing your cheek as his lips hovered over yours. You feared that your heart was going to explode; anticipation and want coursing through your veins.

Loki was about to finally close the remaining distance between the two of you, when the lighting got turned up again; the brightness almost blinding - and the moment between you and the god bursting like a bubble. The both of you could do nothing but blink; now standing an arm length away form each other again.

"I-I'm sorry," Loki muttered and before you could say something, he had vanished in the crowd of people around you. With your mouth slightly agape you stared a hole in the floor where the god had been standing just a few seconds ago; stunned. Your brain was having a hard time to process what just happened. Hence, you didn't even know what exactly happened...

Loki cursed under his breath as he stumbled into his dark, empty apartment in the Avengers tower. He was such a fool. How could he be so stupid to just leave you standing there? He could've had all he ever wanted - and now he was sitting on the floor; back pressed against the frame of his bed, black curls a mess and black shirt halfway undone, with empty hands. And why? All because the oh so brave and arrogant princely womaniser had gotten cold feet. Seducing and charming a woman wasn't a problem. Seducing and charming the woman he loved seemed to be impossible.

Loki ran his hands over his face with a groan. He was an idiotic imbecile.

Tags: @fictive-sl0th @gruftiela @theaudacitytowrite @anukulee @alexakeyloveloki @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @chennqingg @muddyorbsblr @glitchquake @mandywholock1980 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @mochie85 @dryyoursaltyoceantears @chantsdemarins @loz-3 @eleniblue @goblingirlsarah @crimson25 @icytrickster17 @lokidbadguy @hunny-beann @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kimanne723 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokidokieokie @lovingchoices14 @valencia-rou @kikster606 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @huntedmusicgardenn @linaax @sheris532 @km-ffluv @jiyascepter @salvinaa @lcolumbia1988 @blackholeofcreativity @lou12346789 @soulpiercing @loonalockley @liliac-dreamer @brokenpoetliz (Continuing in the comments)

[qipsir]

THIS THIS THIS THIS

I was genuinely typing up a rant post this morning because I'm so tired of the patterns and I needed to put it SOMEWHERE.

(I sincerely hope I worded this correctly; mini rant incoming)

As much as I want to believe my friends, that humans are inherently kind and it's capitalism that's made us this way that's not true. Humans have the CAPACITY for kindness. And throughout life we are TAUGHT to CHOOSE THAT. That our actions have consequences, that the world doesn't exist solely to serve us. We teach children to share because otherwise their reaction with others is "I want this thing so I take it" and they don't understand why needlessly taking things on a whim is a bad thing. Yes, there are a good number of children that will reflexively choose to share, which I think speaks to a metaphysical nature that's a conversation for another time, BUT. ON THE WHOLE. Certain behaviours and lessons are far more common than others.

It's exactly as the post said - "only humans could be this cruel" BUT WE HAVE THE CAPACITY TO LEARN. Life lessons aren't supposed to be easy - they're mad difficult, sure, but they're far from impossible!! People break the cycles!! Yes, pain and strife are teachers, but they also spawn compassion and by golly does the world need compassion right now.

If we want to get metaphysical with it, I've learned that the more in-tune someone is, the more kind/considerate they are. The more attached to human identity they are, the more prone to cruelty.

Humans are a sadistic and violent species with the mental faculties to understand what they are doing and still choose to do it. If you ask me, dismissing that is a terrible mistake.

[kithtaehyung]

holiday (3tan special) | myg

title: holiday  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) | lollipop rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au, holiday au summary: from what you can gather, holiday gift exchanges are supposed to be pretty straightforward. but this one quickly escalates. because no one can follow directions. note: this is all thanks to the person that suggested a 3tan crew secret santa! they don’t do actual secret santa, but they do host a gift exchange. so enjoy this speedily but still tenderly written holiday special! i wanted to get it posted asap so that we could all have it during the holiday season. hope it helps lifting spirits in any way<3  warnings: yoongi looks like sin, but reader does too🤭, kissing, no one follows directions, but especially jimin, hella kissing, no fr jimin is chaos incarnate, sibling holiday woes, tense situations, tender moments, gift exchanges, dialogue heavy i’m so sorry, also not too edited i'm sorry again sdfkljdskl. reader is adorable y'all i wanna cry, 3tan crew being wholesome af drop date: december 27th, 2024, 8:37pm est word count: 8.1k bc i love y’all???

-

-

“Wait… I’m in this, too?” 

Your brother winces while checking his phone, probably also seeing the texts that Jimin sent to a freshly created group chat. “Tae and Chim roped us in this time. But it’s cool if you don’t wanna.” 

As you both don work attire in your foyer, you shake your head, one hand firm on your bag strap, “I don’t even know how they work.”

“I think we random draw names. Then just give a gift to whoever we get.” 

Seeing the names and numbers in here, you’re already running through a lot of possibilities. Maybe too many possibilities. But you don’t wanna make things more complicated or awkward, so you quickly concede, “I mean.. I’m down if you are.”

“I guess it’s cool.”

Head lowered, you notice that your brother’s shoes are the ones you gave him for his birthday a couple years ago. Because those days are the only ones you both celebrate every passing run of three hundred and sixty-five. “At least we’re doing something this year.” 

He chuckles to his feet. “Two years in a row.” 

Your sad laugh tumbles and rolls next to his. “Wild.” 

“Hey.” When he pauses, it’s to wait for you to look up. “If you ever wanna talk about it, we can.” 

There are a lot of times in which you dismiss your brother. Because it’s just what siblings do. 

This time is not one of them. 

“Same,” you offer, the weight of the world dragging your smile down. 

He gives you a hug, and you feel the luxury press of his suit as you lean in with scrunched brows. 

Two years in a row. 

Maybe things do suck less with time. 

When you both head out the door to your cars, you wonder if your brother knows how much you appreciate him and his friends for including you in things. Even if you don’t show it as much as you need to. 

Guess this time of year is a good place to start. 

Work drags in the wake of oncoming holiday. 

But you’re learning to appreciate the decorations around the office, including the little cards that coworkers have given you at your desk—despite your many protests that they didn’t have to. 

When you look up, you start to notice other things. Like the way people smile just a little more. Or the way peppermint and cider waft around the building, smelling of sweet instead of spice. 

You wonder if Jungkook has decorated the studio, too. Or if he recruited everyone else to help with decorations, which means that Yoongi and the guys had to fuss with lights and whatever else people spend money on.  

Laughing to your many stacks of papers and documents, you start daydreaming of what it would be like to decorate the house.

Would you and your brother do it someday? You do admit that it’s kinda nice to look around the neighborhood. And when you went into the mountains last year, you concede that the surrounding town decor was pretty inviting. 

Maybe your house would be a little brighter on the inside too if you both just…

You get a notification on your phone. When the screen brightens, you see that it’s for the app that shuffles you all for the gift exchange. 

You have no fucking clue what you’re doing.

But here goes.

Opening and hoping you get someone that’s easy to please, you stare at your device and blink a few very hard times. 

And after every time, you still get a name that has your heart quickening faster than reindeer working overtime. It’s reindeer, right? You think that’s cor—

“You okay?” 

Snapping your head up, you notice that one of your coworkers stopped mid-stride to check on you. Staring at his candy cane tie, you try not to be distracted as you slightly cringe, 

“What do I get a guy for the holidays?”

“Friend or lover?” 

Well, that was not what you expected to hear! 

When your jaw unhinges, you’re quick to snap it back into place. “Umm.” 

“Oh, this is juicy,” he perks up, quickly settling into a nearby chair and resting a strong chin in his hand. “Tell me more, I got time.” 

Laughing, you shake your head while pretending to type on your computer. “Nothing to tell.” 

“That means you got a whole lot.” His eyes are way too shiny right now! “But alright, I’m gonna assume both. In which case, I suggest something nice.” 

“Something nice?” 

“You know, like. Nice nice.” 

“It’s for a gift exchange, though,” you slump, hands stopping on the keys. Looking at his whole holiday ensemble, you divulge, “The money limit’s definitely not enough for nice nice.” 

“Then fuck the limit?” 

Your answer is more of a sound than a word. 

But he does get you to consider, even if just for a little bit. “Maybe…” 

“Fuck the limit,” he advises again. “He’s gonna dig that. Especially since everyone will see it.”

Your face falls from the snowy sky. “Everyone?” 

“Uhh, yeah? You said gift exchange, right? Everyone sees what everyone gets.” 

“Oh. Right,” you pretend to agree to your computer. Because no, you actually didn’t know that. “Guess it’s been awhile.” 

“Well, that’s what makes it fun! Good luck.”  

While you would normally agree, you have a whole hoard of conflicting feelings. Because while seeing Yoongi’s name on your screen is enough to get you giddy as hell, you know there’s a couple people that may not share the same sentiments. Especially if you gift him something nice nice. 

In front of everybody.

However… 

As your striped and jingling coworker strides away with a hum, you drum your fingers on your minimally decorated desk. 

Maybe there is a way you can finess this. 

After a few weeks, the day has come for not just one exchange, but two—your friends also decided to have your own. Because it’s the easiest format, you convinced them with logic, seeing their shock at you being the one to suggest the exchange in the first place. 

When they asked if you were sure, you assured them that it was okay. And the way they all brightened told you that you made a sound decision. Even if they still seemed hesitant, you know it’s because… 

You’ve never done this. 

So as you observe everyone in your bare living room, you start to see how their presence alone illuminates the space, with gifts in shine and glitter painting the area in holiday colors. 

This is nice. 

“So… Uhh.” You clear your throat, watching everyone look at you at the head of your coffee table. “How do we do this?” 

They all laugh before Taehyung explains, “So one of us goes first and says who we got before giving the gift—you can sit, you know.” 

In the midst of more teasing, you settle onto the floor while exclaiming, “I’m nervous, okay! This is really new to me.” 

“You have a gift to give, right?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Then you’re already doing great,” Reia assures, and you’re even more excited to give yours away. Because you drew her name. 

But before you can say that, Taehyung continues, “So after someone gets their gift, they announce who they picked, and so on.” 

“Pretty straightforward,” you observe. “I wanna go first!” 

Dom cackles, “You just wanna get it out of the way.” 

“And?” you question, grinning when you shoot up and grab your very amateurishly wrapped bag. “Okay, okay, I got…”

“This is adorable,” Yuri cuts in, and everyone’s agreement makes you suddenly shy. 

“No! Don’t make fun.” 

“We aren’t!” Taehyung reaches out to rub your leg. “Promise. Who’d you get?” 

“I got… Reia!” You exclaim, raising your bag a bit as she yells with everyone. The sudden raise of noise gets you a little shocked, but hyped nonetheless. And maybe a bit nervous that your gift won’t live up to the excitement. “Sorry about the wrapping job.” 

“What are you talking about, this is so good,” Reia soothes, smiling wide as she delicately takes out the folded paper. “Wow, the wrapping is nice?” 

Dom chimes in as she leans in, “Yeah, this is too good. Did you watch videos?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Everyone laughs again as you keep your nose held high. Because sucky or not, you were not gonna half-ass your first ever gift exchange. With seasoned people, at that. No way. 

When Reia opens the gift you carefully picked while perusing through a local music store, you watch with the anticipation of a small child, eyes wide and waiting. Hoping that the best outcome is the real outcome. 

And when she quietly yells behind her hand, everyone cheers while asking what she got. When she turns the package around, they cheer even more, because it’s a guitar pick set in her favorite colors. And one that you knew was so, very much her. 

She stands up immediately and opens her arms for a hug, and you blink before getting lovingly crushed. 

“Thank you,” she whispers in your ear. “This is more than great.” 

“Of course, babe,” you murmur back, feeling her jean jacket under your palms and a beating in your chest. “Thank you, too.” 

The rest of the exchange goes off without a hitch, with you cheering with everyone and understanding the cues more and more. Everyone’s gifts are wonderful, and Yuri’s the last to go out of the five of you. 

And she got your name. 

You figured giving the gift would be the hardest part. 

But somehow, this part is a lot harder. 

Braving it anyway—because there’s ironically no time like the present—you carefully unwrap the thin package and stare at what’s inside. 

It’s a photocard. But the picture is of the five of you, one that Taehyung took with his long ass arms while the four of you huddled behind him with drinks in hand. Around its edges are stickers, hearts and stars and cute little animals. 

And it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Yuri rushes over to ask if you don’t like it. 

“This is the best thing ever,” you choke out, and she smiles before laughing and tearing up, too. “I love us.” 

“We’re the best, duh.” 

“Got that right,” Dom adds to the air while Reia and Taehyung start cleaning up the wrapping scraps. “You like your first gift exchange?”

“I should’ve joined y’all sooner.” 

“Joined us?” Taehyung looks up from the ground. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh. I figured you guys do this every year.” 

Tae looks at Yuri, who then looks at you again before very seriously admitting, “We’ve never done this, either. Not with each other.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” She taps the back of your now most precious, most coveted photocard ever. “We didn’t even think about it since you wouldn’t be there.” 

Smiling at your prized possession, you vow, 

“I’ll be here now.” 

Regarding all of them, you start to decorate your place in your mind. Seeing where all the lights go. Where all the little trinkets hang, or whatever. You don’t quite know how this goes just yet, but you do know there’s trees involved. So that’s gonna be figured out in a year’s time. 

“I’m not missing this again.” 

With bellies full of laughter and a little bit of cider, you and your friends head over to Jimin’s cul-de-sac. 

Dom took the wheel this time, so you get to stare out the passenger side window, eyes reflecting golds and colors as you take in the surrounding lights. 

Were they always this pretty? You don’t remember being so taken by electricity and staggering electric bills, especially the houses that go all out and cover every nook of their yard in lights. 

But it’s a spectacle on every corner and street, and Jimin’s little half circle of houses keeps the holiday illumination alive. 

“Uhh, I think we can park down there,” you point, noticing there’s some space a little bit beyond the street. It’s alarmingly next to where Yoongi had to park once, and you cherish that memory with stars in your eyes. 

“Everyone have their gifts?” 

“Tae, if anyone lost theirs on the way here, we have other issues.” 

It’s a quick walk to Jimin’s, and the music around the house gets louder as you approach his entrance. There are people already set up in his open garage playing what you assume are card games, and everyone greets your group as you pop in to say hi. 

“Hey!” Namjoon calls. “Y’all are late! Everyone’s inside.” 

“We had our own party first,” you call out, struggling with your gift bags and food tray. “Can someone—”

Before you finish your ask, you smell nice cologne and feel a big presence at your side. 

When you look to see who’s assisting, you slow in your motions before uttering a small,

“Thank you.” 

Jungkook slightly smiles as he grabs your last bag. “Your perfume’s nice,” he compliments behind tousled bangs. Which makes you blink because that comment is more than hard to come by from him. 

So you can only grin. “Just got it,” you explain as you follow your friends inside the house. “It’s a dupe, can you believe it?” 

“Damn! It’s a good one.” 

“I know,” you agree, very proud of your find. Taking the gift bags from his hands, you tilt your head. “Can you bring the tray to the kitchen?” 

“On it.” 

When you make your way to your friends at the front area, they all eye you with concern. But you wave it off and shrug off your coat to hang on the loan coat hanger—earning teasing and whistles.   

“Shut up,” you groan, laughing with everyone before straightening the reason for the noises. It’s a dress you’ve been eyeing specifically for holiday parties. Because as soon as you started to shop for your gift exchanges, that quickly spiraled into shopping for outfits to wear to them. Did your coworker spook you into looking good because it was a public event? Maybe. Absolutely. 

So you shopped around before finding a dress that even you knew you looked good in. And the past couple weeks were the longest stretches ever because of your anticipation to wear it again. 

As you and your newest fit walk into the kitchen, you start to greet everyone, giving them hugs and smiling bright at their compliments. Because you feel good. You feel nice. Maybe you’re just drinking the holiday cheer and letting it consume you but you don’t care because it’s fun this time. This isn’t like any other year, and it’s wonderful. 

But then. 

Even the most wonderful moments have to come to a halt. 

And yours crash when you see Yoongi. 

Leaned back on one of the kitchen counters, his body appears relaxed in another damn black button-up, telltale silver chain hanging from a neck you wanna devour in front of the whole house. 

He was already annoying last year. But this time, his hair’s longer, and made up with just the right amount of disarray and a little bit even tucked behind his ear.

Fuck, this is so much worse! 

If he wasn’t so attractive and magnetizing, you’d have way less than ninety-nine problems. It would be a lot closer to zero. 

But you make your way over to him anyway, because of course you would. Of course he knew you would, too. 

“Hi,” you greet him, hands tingling with the desire to cup his beautiful chin and yank him in for a kiss. 

But he greets you back while giving you a hug, not without giving you a very obvious once-over. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers in your ear before pulling away, which can only make you babble out, 

“What?” 

He grins wide. “You look nice.” 

Oh. Oh, he really did say that. Why are you surprised? Why are you always surprised? But you have to stay poised so you stick with a neutral, 

“So do you.” 

“Thanks,” he says with a sly curve, still leaning back on the counter with a drink in hand. “Say something else.” 

“Goodbye forever,” is what you go with, back heating with his staccato laughs following your speedy retreat. 

No, no, no. He cannot notice how excited you are to give him his gift. Your bubbling excitement needs to be projected elsewhere. Because you know you picked perfect. It’s something you know he’d appreciate. 

But he cannot have his ego inflated anymore or else the house would float to the sky. 

But fucking hell, he looks damn good and he knows it. 

After an hour or so of socializing and keeping to your little friend circle, Jimin gets everyone together in the big living room to do the exchange. 

“Okay! One, two… Okay, we’re all here, so. Who’s gonna start?” 

When someone calls his name, the man grins and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m host.” 

“So shouldn’t you be the one to start?” 

“My house, my rules!” Jimin argues with zest, pointing to the guy that dared to challenge him, “So you go first.” 

And that man just so happens to secretly be yours. 

Shouts erupt around the living room, and you can mostly hear Hoseok and Seokjin since they’re closest,

“Go, Yoong!” 

“Ah, Yoongi’s first for a change.” 

Secretly and not so secretly, you’re hoping and wishing that he pulled your name. But the odds of that would be pretty slim if you pulled him, even though it was an even chance across the board. 

But as he gets up from the arm of Jimin’s couch holding a small gift bag, you determine that maybe it’s best if he didn’t pull your name. Because you already had trouble opening Yuri’s gift. How the hell would you control yourself opening his? 

“K, uhh. I got…” 

Wait, he’s looking towards you from across the room.

Shit. Is it happening?

You? 

“Taehyung.” 

A pang of disappointment and relief shoots through your veins, even when you shout with everyone while watching Tae smile from his place right next to you.

Yoongi walks right up to your seats, which are really some extra fold-out chairs by Jimin’s decorated tree. And he smells so good. Why do you have to be close to him again? 

But this moment is about Taehyung, so you watch as he opens the gift. When there’s a small box inside the bag, he opens that to reveal a nice, slim… wallet? 

Wait, is that leather? 

Your mouth drops as everyone’s up and raising questions already, and you can clearly hear Jungkook and your brother protest the highest,  

“Wait, huh?” 

“We set a limit for a reason!” 

Yoongi’s hands stay in his pockets when he refutes, “It was on sale.” 

“Nah, he’s lying!” 

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say, so when he looks at you, it takes all your strength to encourage him neutrally, 

“It’s so you! Deserved.” 

Yoongi looks at you before asking your friend, “Is it okay?” 

“It’s perfect,” Taehyung says, full of gratefulness. “I’m just shocked.” 

Jimin and Shiv chuckle from one of the couches, 

“Oh? He’s never shocked.” 

“This is new.” 

Yoongi smiles as Tae gets up to hug him, and you’re immediately okay not being the one receiving anything right now. 

Because you don’t need anything from him. 

All you want is his happiness. 

Once the initial gift is given, everyone goes down the line. And you’re feeling a little lighter after knowing who Yoongi got. Also, you feel less and less awkward about your gift, since the chaos of Yoongi’s was only the beginning.

Because when Taehyung gifts your brother a chain, everyone’s up and yelling again while your sibling is shocked to hell. 

On one end of the living room, Namjoon shakes his grinning head while Jungkook throws his back, 

“Alright, there needs to be a penalty for the most expensive gift.” 

“We obviously didn’t give a shit about the limit.” 

Everyone’s laughter fills the house, even drowning out the faint holiday music floating from the surround speakers. 

Immediately clipping on his necklace, your brother shouts, “Am I the only one that stuck to what we agreed on?” 

“Sucks for who got yours then.” 

Everyone starts laughing or reprimanding Yoongi for saying that—you with a cackle included. 

But then your brother busts out a fucking watch for Shiv and everyone goes bananas. 

At this point, Taehyung’s fully laughing behind his fingers on his forehead, and Jimin collapses on a gawking Yoongi when Shiv quite literally jumps up. 

“What the hell? Dude, I can’t take this.” 

“Yes, you can! And you will.” 

Fingers are pointing in every direction while people are calling each other liars, and your brother laughs on like a gremlin.

But it’s all so adorable that your heart is squeezing. Shiv’s damn near tearing up. “I’ve been eyeing this one for forever.” 

“I know! You wouldn’t stop running your damn mouth about that thing.” Your older sibling claps him on the shoulder. “You can shut up now,” he says with a grin, and Shiv gives him a big hug. 

“Thanks, man.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” 

Shiv’s turn. And everyone is waiting for what he decided to gift. 

Turns out he keeps the shenanigans going by gifting Jungkook a luxury tie set.

The blond’s jaw drops as he stares hard at the package. Looking up quick, he has to ask for sure, “A set, dude?” 

“It was on sale!” 

“Again?”

“Are we all gonna say the same lie?” 

Everyone can’t hide their amusement, with creased eyes and fake annoyance in every seat. Jungkook can’t believe his luck, since he’s been telling himself to get dress clothes forever but hasn’t gotten around to it.

“You gotta dress like a man now, kid,” Shiv tells him with a bright smile. “There’s a lot coming now that you’re making it.”

A light bulb softly glows when you realize that Yoongi might need to do the same. Trying not to look obvious, you peek in his direction. 

As he stares at the floor, you already know he’s mulling over the same thoughts. 

But it’s Jungkook’s turn now, and you still haven’t gotten a gift yet. 

So you’re waiting with all the air in your lungs. 

As the blond teases his pick, the studio boys are quick to handle him as Yoongi only huffs.

“I got… I got… I got, I got, I got, I got—”

“Kook, just say it.”

“Always like this.”

“Jimin!”

Your heart beats again as the host pops up from his couch, everyone cheering as Kook meets him in the center. Around you, speculation from your friends mixed with a little laughter spikes,

“He probably stuck to the limit.”

“Definitely.”

“Jimin’s gonna be the only one left with—”

Cackles and screams rip as Jimin kicks his head back in laughter, because in his hands is a sleek white box that everyone recognizes. 

This man got Jimin designer shades.

Your cheeks hurt as you react with everyone, giddy and bubbly with how absolutely ridiculous this whole night has gone. Everyone accusing each other of cheating, while all the while every single gift has been over the top.

You really don’t feel bad about revealing your gift anymore. Quite honestly, you almost feel more bad about it not being enough.

No. It’s enough.

Yours is the best and you stick to that.  

Jimin takes the sunglasses out of the box and protective pouch, slipping them on and modeling immediately.  

Oh’s and ah’s echo before his friends inflate his ego,

“Damn, you sure you aren’t a model?” 

“You’re one step away.” 

“He really is.” 

He looks great and he knows it. And he carefully puts them back in their packaging before giving Jungkook a hug. They exchange conversation, and you can feel the latter’s smile as he laughs before sitting down. 

Suddenly, you have the strongest intuition that you’re next. On Jimin’s turn. He’s getting out a very nice bag from behind a couch and your brain is firing off. 

“Okay! The best gift is going to…”

You were right. He calls your name.

Smiling, you shakily stand as Jimin approaches, a twinkling look in those features glowing in incandescent lights. 

Eyes on you. Many eyes. 

A little overwhelmed, you thank him before sitting down. Because it’s much easier to do this while on a solid, structured surface. 

“Hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Best gift? What could Jimin possibly mean by—

Your scream shoots out as you clamp the bag shut because no fucking way you saw what you just saw in there. 

Jimin’s laughing his ass off but it’s not funny. 

“Jimin, what the fuck!” Now you know how Shiv felt and he is absolutely valid for his reaction. “I can’t accept this.” 

People are concerned around you, and you quickly think they may have the wrong idea.

“What did he get?” 

“What’s in there?”

Quelling some thoughts, you explain, “It’s a box.” 

“Okay?” 

You just gotta say it. They’re all gonna know as soon as you take it out anyway. So you breathe out,

“…It’s Dior.” 

It’s the loudest it’s been all night, even though your friends are completely speechless. All the guys are up in arms and Jia’s scream for penalty can be heard through the chaos,

“What!” 

“Where’s my Dior?” 

“What the fuck?” 

“Jimin…” 

“Okay, that is way over limit! That’s cheating!” 

“Penalty!” 

Jimin’s sneaky smile as he turns around doesn’t help, “You know I get everything for less.” 

“So?”

“Still, what the hell, man!”

You know Jimin works there. You do. But this is still making your limbs jelly and you can’t even speak. 

There’s no way Dior is passed around at every gift exchange. 

“You deserve it. For dealing with him.” He looks at your brother, but the look in his eyes is too sparkly to be completely truthful. Does he mean Yoongi? Or is he being serious? 

Of course, your sibling throws out a droning, “Wow.” 

After lots of shaky unboxing, you reveal a stunning bracelet, your friends bending down around you to gawk at how brilliant it is. Dancing in your fingers, this piece shimmers and gleams, and every single person is quiet. 

Guilt. You feel guilt. 

And you can’t even look at the reason why.

“Whatever you’re feeling, don’t. It’s okay.” 

You’re tearing up because it’s way too nice. Which proves worse because you also feel bad for crying for the sole fact that Yoongi’s watching. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea. 

You get up to hug him. “I… This is really nice, Jimin. Thank you.” 

“Stop by the store sometime,” he offers with a smile. “Maybe I can slip more in your purse.” 

“Easy,” your brother eyes him. 

“So are we all getting fancy gifts or what?” 

“Nope! Ran out of my discount, sorry.” 

“Wow.” 

When you finally glance around, everyone’s either a mix of shock and awe, visibly confused, or just jealous and wondering what the hell just happened. 

Meanwhile. 

Yoongi straight up looks like he’s holding his tongue. 

And you suddenly feel really bad. 

Hopefully giving him his gift will make up for what just happened. Even though you’re going after the hardest hitter of the damn night, this one’s special. 

But who are you kidding? People are definitely gonna talk in private about Jimin’s little gift. 

So now you have to try and mend this while acting like Yoongi’s just your brother’s friend. Cool. Awesome. 

“So...”

Just try your goddamned best. 

“Yoongi is mine.”

…Wait.

Your secret looks your way immediately while everyone snaps their heads to him.

What the fuck did you say?

Wait wait wait wait what did you fucking say?

Flapping your arms, you reach for words while everyone starts teasing, “Oh, god. I mean—I have Yoongi—I mean, wow. Hold on.”

Fucking fuck fuck, he’s grinning.

Thank the lord above for someone cheekily asking,

“First time at a gift exchange?”

You look away from the laughs while trying to compose your grin of embarrassment. Get it the fuck together, this is peak time to get it right.

“God. Okay.” You look down at your bag. All of its carefully folded and primped paper, the delicate folding inside. “For the gift exchange,” you clarify with a forced firm tone, “I got Yoongi.” 

You feel Dom try her damned best to hide her laugh. And you know for damn sure Jimin and Taehyung are thoroughly amused right now. 

All the oh’s sounding off in the living room are already enough to set your ears smoking. Your brother’s voice can be heard, but you know that’s for a specific reason. 

Everything had to be carefully calculated, after all. 

You walk up to him, and you cannot—absolutely cannot—look too long at the way he’s looking up at you. Him sitting in any capacity is enough to drive you up a wall, but now? When he looks so freshly fitted and prepping to tease you about all this later? You can barely think straight. 

“I don’t think I can beat Jimin’s gift,” you sigh to his curious eyes. “But it’s a little too late to change.”

His smile turns so soft. He shouldn’t be the one comforting you right now when you probably broke a little of his heart. “It’s all good.”

Keep going. 

Cleaning your clogged throat, you brave the crowd and breathe before starting again, “Anyway. This is kinda from both of us, but I picked it because I have better taste.”

“Hey, what the hell?” 

Ignoring your brother’s protest, you watch as Yoongi softly opens the gift before pulling out a basketball jersey. 

Of his favorite player. 

“Holy shit.” 

Shouts start erupting behind your back as you laugh, your sneaky gift joining the rest of them. 

“Hello? That’s way too much!” 

“That’s over the limit for sure.” 

You wave your hands frantically among their teasing arguments, and your brother chimes in on your side. “I didn’t know what to get!” 

“So you got a real jersey?” 

“Relax, y’all. It’s from both of us.” 

“Wait, which one’s Lillard again?” 

“Damian,” Yoongi softly says in awe. “How’d you know?” 

You can only blink, smiling faltering by the slightest amount.

Fuck, he’s gonna be cheeky right now? Knowing you know and exactly how you know? Cuddled up with him in his bed as he shows you highlight reels and tells you the guy’s whole story and that he happens to be a rapper, too? 

Looking back towards your brother, you explain, “Well... He gave me a list. And I just picked off vibes.” 

Yoongi’s eyes sparkle so much when he grins. “Good choice,” he compliments with creased eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” You say back with a little too high of a pitch. “But tell him he still owes you a gift. This doesn’t count for him.” 

“Uhh, it sure as fuck does!” 

Yoongi breaks eye contact to shout behind you, “Didn’t you already tell me you got me something?” 

“Yeah, it was that!” 

“What a lie,” Yoongi says through a smile.

“Yeah, I did,” your brother surrenders. “The shoes are in my bag. Okay, next!” 

Hilariously, two pairs of people end up getting each other. Yuri’s older sister Jia got Seokjin, who also drew her name—to the slight angst of your brother, you imagine. 

And Hoseok ends up getting Namjoon. Which turns out being twice as funny because they both got each other the same pair of earphones. You can’t breathe with how hard you cackle with everyone, and your heart skips when you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s eyes across the room.

By the end of the exchange, everyone’s bellies and cheeks sting from laughter, and every eye in sight has twinkles embedded inside.

Throughout the night, everyone starts branching off into different groups. You and your friends talk in the kitchen, and both in and out of the house, there’s groups of games and conversations. 

The holiday decorations everywhere shine bright. Enveloped in the music, you keep looking at the lights, feeling happy but a little bittersweet. 

You really wanna set the record straight with Yoongi. You had no damn clue that Jimin was gonna give something like that, much less in front of everyone. 

The fact that you haven’t been in the same room for a bit makes it worse. What could he be thinking right now? You can’t tell because he’s nowhere in sight. 

Screw it. You’re gonna at least text him. There’s no way you can survive the night if you’re gonna plague your own head without checking in with him. 

Fishing out your phone, you sidestep away for a second to type something quick. 

You [10:38pm]: i know it’s not dior.. but hope you like your gift :’)) 

Yoongi [10:38pm]: You know I do. It’s perfect, doll. 

Well. He texted back super quick.

Maybe he’s really okay? Maybe he and Jimin already talked it through? 

Then again.. Yoongi didn’t look happy at all during the big reveal. To the point where he was actively showing emotions you rarely get to see.

But if he says he likes his gift, that’s a good sign. 

You [10:42pm]: i can’t believe jimin did that

Yoongi [10:42pm]: That was bold. 

You [10:42pm]: seriously!!! 

Hmm. So he didn’t know. That’s even more surprising than him knowing, now that you think about it. 

You’re called over to get another round of food, and you turn down the initial invite but stay around as they get more to eat. 

When you see a tray that smells way too good, you do break and get a piece anyways. 

“Yeah, those are amazing,” Yuri chirps. “Shiv made those.”

“Really?” Dom grabs a couple pieces. “Lemme try these then.”

“You’re gonna want more.” 

As you find a place outside to eat, you stand next to the heater while conversing with Taehyung. It’s adorable how you can tell how excited he is about his gift, turning it in his hand before pocketing the leather again. 

“It’s so nice,” you compliment. 

“He knows how to pick, I guess,” Tae smiles, looking at you and making you shy. Because hello? There’s no way he’s gonna be bringing that up tonight. 

When you silently mouth for him to shut up, he grins like a madman. Glancing down at your hands, he suddenly asks, “Are you gonna put that down?”

“No,” you say with a tiny pang of guilt. “Afraid not.”

“Mm.” 

Your phone buzzes again, and you’re thankful for the interruption.

Yoongi [11:09pm]: Guess I have to do better😔

Instantly, you take that gratefulness back.

You [11:09pm]: NO!! you don’t have to worry about me at all

Yoongi [11:10pm]: I can’t lose to you

You [11:10pm]: trust me, i just… 

You think about sending the other text or not. But you do anyway. 

Taehyung sees the look in your faraway face, but doesn’t comment as you peer down again. 

You [11:11pm]: i just wanna see you happy

That’s all you want. If he’s happy, you’re happy. So it sucks to have part of the night come as quite the shock. 

Interestingly enough, though.. Someone else in the house should also be pretty upset about your gift, and you haven’t seen Jimin cornered by him yet. 

Unless your brother is just deciding to be courteous and beat his ass after everyone leaves. 

Yoongi [11:13pm]: Then come over here

You’re not gonna argue with that. 

So when your friends finish their plates, you suggest you all head into the garage. It’s already rowdy before you open the door, so the sounds get booming loud when you all enter. 

Looks like everyone is blowing their money on other things tonight, too. The gifts were the nice part of the party; now everyone is fiending to take everyone’s cash.

“Damn, Yoongi’s clearing me out.”

“Told you not to go all in.”

“He did.”

As the cold weather rolls in, you watch as the games go on, with heaters humming with energy and your brother’s friends radiating competition. 

No wonder Yoongi wanted you in here.

He’s on a damn roll.

As everyone groans after another win, Namjoon and your brother are in tatters, 

“Yoong, what the fuck!”

“You hiding cards in those sleeves?”

“I told you!” Yoongi boasts, “Don’t get too cocky.”

“Says him.”

“Cocky, my ass.” 

When you laugh, you earn a tiny glimpse of his eyes. But as his vision falls to your hands, you’re quick to look away, out into the night to look at all the lights instead.

Shit.

After some time passes, you find yourself alone on a balcony. Yet again. Cold wind blows through your coat, chilling you but making you feel alive. Too alive in this moment. Too aware.

The holidays aren’t so bad this time around. But you do need to set this one thing straight before things go a little sideways with Yoongi. 

If he’s upset, you don’t want him to be. Even if he doesn’t say it, you want him to know you’re considering his feelings. There’s some things you just can’t control.

So you wait for Jimin, telling him earlier to meet you up here for the best chance at privacy.

When you hear the door opening, you see him come through, hair lifting in the breeze and his lips in a slight curve. 

Get right to it. “Jimin, I—”

“Isn’t it so nice tonight?” 

Stopping, you settle into a smile, watching him walk up to stand next to you before you both look into the night. The neighborhood glows beneath your feet, and everyone in the backyard mingles while puffs of air leave their lips. 

“It really is,” you say with a smile, clutching the gift bag in cold fingers. Because you haven’t let go of it ever since it was given to you—it’s way too expensive. You’ve been guarding it all night. 

Which is why you need to hand it back to the one who gave it to you. “We haven’t done something like this before, so.. It’s a nice change of pace.” 

Jimin turns before realizing something. “Oh. I meant the weather.” 

Embarrassed, you let out a laugh while his eyes crease. “Ah. That, too.” 

“Got deep real fast.” 

“Jimin!” 

Both of you puff out laughter as you look down, just in time to see someone gazing right up at you. Someone that makes your heart squeeze on sight. 

Oh, shit. Is he gonna get the wrong idea again? 

You need to do this quick. Yoongi can’t be let down more than once tonight. 

Sighing, you start to hold up the bag again. “Thank you—”

“He’s lucky you came around when you did.” 

“Huh?” 

Jimin leans on the railing before eyeing you with a smile. “You don’t even know, do you.” 

“I don’t…” When you look below, Yoongi’s not looking anymore. And you panic. “Jimin, thank you. But I seriously can’t take this.” 

Why does he look so calm? Why does he keep acting like this isn’t a big deal? “You can.” 

“No, really. I—” 

“I may have gone too far this time.” 

Your eyes still as you breathe out a confused, “...What?” 

Jimin’s face is dusted with peach in the cold, and you get a good view of his jawline as he peers down below with a regretful curve. “I kinda tricked him,” he admits. “Into picking your gift for the exchange.” 

The shock you feel prevents you from even blinking. How the hell can this get even more overwhelming? “What do you mean?” 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I got some good discounts.” Jimin turns around to lean against the railing. “So I thought it would be fun to rope him into getting you something.” 

When he laughs to the chilly night sky, you don’t join him—the shock is preventing you from doing anything. 

“Didn’t think he’d pick a whole bracelet, though. Made for one hell of a gift exchange pick.” He looks at you at a tilt. “You like it, right?” 

Even if Yoongi was the one to pick out the jewelry, Jimin still had to purchase the damn thing. And even with his discount, it’s still expensive as hell. It has to be. You haven’t let go of the bag once because you don’t want to lose it. “But you still had to pay,” you blurt out. “I’ll find a way to pay you back if you aren’t gonna take it.”

“I didn’t pay for it, either.” 

Your heart stops. 

Full on halts. 

When he turns his head, he looks toward the sky in thought. “Well, I did secretly pay the exchange limit. But..” He straightens before staring back at your absolute silence, dropping the biggest surprise of the whole night,

“Yoongi paid the difference.”

The sudden sob that leaves your throat startles him immediately, and he rushes forward to put hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—”

The sound of a door slides open, and you turn to see your favorite, favorite, favorite person walking through. You must look like a wreck but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care. 

“I’ll leave you both to it then,” Jimin says to your watery eyes before squeezing, heading out to give you both the quiet space you need. 

But Yoongi clutches his arm as he walks by, and you hold your breath as he stares him in the eye, voice burning with a steady glow,

“Don’t pull that shit again.” 

“I know,” Jimin agrees without pause. “I owe you one.” 

“No one comes up here then.” Yoongi releases him slow. “Until I come back down.” 

The host of the night shares a quick hand clutch before assuring, “You got it.” 

Bag clutched tight in your hands, you watch in wonder as Yoongi approaches you with a quiet determination. His presence alone makes your heart beat warm and soft, but you cannot stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. 

All you can ask as he gets close is a wondrous, “Why..?”

“He’s a very persuasive salesman.” When you wipe your eyes, he helps with a little look of tenderness. Though there’s still some frustration evident in his features. “But I didn’t know it would be for tonight.”

“Oh, shit,” you sigh. “Why did he do that?” 

“I’m not sure.” Yoongi holds your chin, rubbing your frosty cheek with a handworking thumb. “Taehyung didn’t know he’d do it, either.” 

“Tae knew, too?” 

“Yeah. He thought I had it, not Chim.” He sighs to the side, hair lifting slightly in the breeze. “I almost stood up when you screamed.” 

Your heart shrugs off some chill. “Really?” 

Yoongi nods before looking up with scrunched brows. “It took all of me to keep my ass down. Honestly, I’m still pissed the fuck off.” 

You believe that. One hundred percent, you believe that. Because you’ve never seen him talk to Jimin like that before tonight. 

Reaching to cradle one of his cheeks, you feel how cold he is before whispering to soothe, “Tell me how you wanted it to go.” 

When Yoongi looks at you, your lips curve into a small smile. Peppered with a bit of your tears and willingness to make him feel better. 

He softly grips your hand on his face before turning to kiss your fingers. Voice low, he reveals, “I was gonna take you straight to dinner. After you got off work one day.” Another set of kisses makes your fingers both hot and cold. “Then I would’ve faked needing something from the studio. And you would’ve gotten it there.” 

“Oh…” You blink as your vision blurs. “That’s…” 

“Among other things.” 

At his suggestive look, you playfully pat his jacket. But your heart starts leaking from your eyes.  

Because you just want it all to be out already. Just everything. Everything, everything, everything, you’re so tired of keeping it under wraps. 

“What’s wrong, doll.”

“Nothing,” you sob. “I’m just… I didn’t know, and… This is a lot.” 

You’re overflowing with emotions. From all the experiences you’ve had tonight to this very moment, everything has been wonderful and magical and there’s nothing quite like this feeling. But you’re also so embarrassed because he definitely brought out much bigger guns than you did. 

Sniffling into his jacket, you whisper, “Thank you… You got me something timeless. This is so much cooler than my gift.” 

“No! Yours is great, are you kidding me?” 

“It’s a jersey… That’s much less cool.” 

“Mm... You also called me yours.” When you freeze completely, Yoongi's shoulders bob with his pride. “Gotta say, that was the highlight of the night."

“Oh, shut up!" When you groan into his clothes, you feel him laughing through his chest. And it's one of your favorite feelings in the world.

Shoulders slumped, you heavily yearn,

“I want it all out now. Everything.” You squeeze him closer. Closer, closer, closer. “I want everyone to know it was from you.” 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, though you do feel his heart beat a little faster. When he finally answers, you close your eyes. “I know I said this last time, but.. Next year. For sure.” 

“Can we decorate, too?” 

Yoongi looks into your starry eyes. “You wanna?” When your nod is quick, he laughs. “Guess I don’t have a real choice then, huh?” 

“Nu uh.” You squeal as he hauls you into a full kiss, squeezing you in his arms and more tears out of your eyes. “Wait!” 

When he tilts his head, you grin at his adorable quirk. “Let’s do it anyway.” 

“Huh?”

Holding up the bag, you cheekily suggest, “Everything you said. Let’s do it.” Biting your lip and feeling the chill on your ears, you finish, “There’s a new place I wanna try with you anyways.” 

Yoongi just stares, smile unsure but huffing amusement from his nose. “You sure?” 

“Duh! And I’ll act even more surprised, just for you.” 

Your giggling is purely born from excitement. Because you can’t wait to take him somewhere you know he’ll enjoy, too. And you get to see the studio? It’s gonna be a fantastic—

You’re brought into a tight hug before your thoughts finish. The bag between you crumples a tad, but you’re more focused on the way your head is moved for a soul-tying kiss. 

Warmth and gold and sparkles burst from your chest as you’re completely taken by Yoongi’s lips, and you start to feel your house inside change. It’s festive. It’s decorated. It’s made just for you and him. 

You've never been one for this season. But getting to spend it with Yoongi two years in a row? It's becoming one of your favorite times of the year.

“I just…” he murmurs to your features before gripping you close. “Thanks, babe.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his handsome features. “Once you give it to me for real, I’m gonna wear it everywhere.” 

“Please do. Get my money’s worth.” 

When you both laugh, your affection leaves in puffs of white. And you give him a more tender kiss than the first. 

You feel so at home it hurts. But it hurts because your heart is so full you can’t fit it all. All the love for everyone that fills that hole in your life that you and your brother have had for years. 

You’re gonna tell him one day. And it’s gonna rip you apart. 

But you hope everything will be okay. This time next year, all of you will be okay. More than okay. 

When you lean in close, you whisper something you’ve never really said to anyone. But you’re gonna try to start, even if you aren’t quite familiar with it yet. It’s a good year to start, start, start. 

“Happy holidays, Yoongi.”

His lips spread slow before giving one more kiss to your chilly nose. And every anxious feeling floats away in the frosty breeze.

“Happy holidays, doll.”

-

-

fin. :)

-

so... how did it go! | join the server! | join the taglist!

a/n: happy holidays, merry christmas, happy new year to everyone that celebrates! just wanted to get this one out for the ones needing a little bit of cheer around this time. we learn quite a bit about some of the crew's backstories and where they work now, huh. is this a pocket universe, too? who really knows! but it all flew out of my fingers as soon as we got the suggestion, so thank you again to that anon message! a/n 2: thank you to everyone that's stuck with me and 3tan this year. it's been a rough one, but i also wanted to post this one to let you all know i'm still here. 3tan will forever stay with me, and i have not ever forgotten it. not one day goes by where i don't think about it, or y'all, or them. trust me. also, stay on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer and closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[misctf]

What do you think about that idea?

A homophonic nerd who hates christmas. Get a present of the local frats and turns into a new member of the frats and celebrating Christmas by getting fucked by his new bros or/and fuck them.

Jeremy groans as he hears aggressive knocking at his door. Maybe if he ignores them, they'll leave. But after a few more minutes, the aggressive knocking returns. He looks up from his chemistry textbook and sighs.

“Its finals season, don't people have better stuff to do? He grumbles as he walks and opens the door, “This better be good.” He mumbles, but as he opens the door, his eyes narrow.

Jeremy glares at the burly fraternity brothers standing on his doorstep- half naked despite the cold. Their obnoxious Christmas caroling grating on his nerves. 

“Can't you see I'm trying to study?” he snaps, crossing his arms over his thin chest.

The frat boys' smirks falter momentarily at Jeremy's harsh tone. They shift uncomfortably, seemingly surprised by the reaction. One of them, clearly the ringleader, steps forward.

“Hey, chill out man! We were just trying to spread some holiday cheer.” he says, attempting a grin.

His biceps flex as he crosses his arms, mirroring Jeremy's posture. The others snicker behind him, their eyes roving over Jeremy's slender frame. 

“Yeah, you could use a little 'cheer' yourself, nerd.” another one sneers.

“Fuck off 'bros'.” Jeremy mocks, “Don't you have anything better to do? Maybe get drunk and give each other bro-jobs?” He smirks, clearly proud of his taunting.

The frat boys exchange angry glances, but their leader holds up a hand, silencing them. He turns back to Jeremy, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Alright, alright, let's not escalate things here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small, holding it out to Jeremy, “Here, consider this a peace offering.” It's a gingerbread man, intricately decorated to resemble a buff, muscular figure, “I hope you appreciate the effort we put into this.” the frat boy says, chuckling, “We figured since you're so into...books and shit, maybe a little holiday baking would brighten your day.”

The others snicker, but there's an undercurrent of tension still lingering in the air. Jeremy narrows his eyes suspiciously at the gingerbread man, but takes it. After an awkward and begrudging thank you, he slams the door in their face. Jeremy slams the door shut, annoyed at the interruption. He sets the gingerbread man down on his desk, eyeing it skeptically. It's ridiculous how detailed the decoration is, almost like a caricature of muscle-bound masculinity.

“What a joke.” He mutters.

Jeremy picks up the gingerbread man, examining it closer. Despite himself, he feels a pang of hunger. He breaks off a leg and pops it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. There's a sweetness to it, but also a savory depth that's surprisingly satisfying.

“Huh, not bad. Maybe those assholes actually know how to bake.” He chuckles at the thought of burly frat bros baking together.

Jeremy barely notices the subtle tingling sensation starting in his legs. At first, it's almost imperceptible - a slight heaviness, a tightening of the skin. He absentmindedly rubs his thigh. As he continues munching on the gingerbread man’s legs, the sensations intensify in his lower extremities. Muscles begin to swell and thicken beneath the surface of his skin, straining against the fabric of his jeans. The denim stretches taut, creaking softly as it struggles to contain the rapid growth. His calves bulge outward, transforming from a lean, wiry shape into a thick, corded mass. Veins pulse visibly along its length, prominent and throbbing. Higher up, Jeremy's thighs begin to balloon, expanding into a formidable pillars of raw power. His quadriceps and hamstrings hypertrophy at an alarming rate, bunching and rippling beneath his skin.

“Fuck.” He mumbles, shifting uncomfortably on his new pillowy bubble butt, “I should move around a bit.”

He stands up to stretch and takes a bite out of the gingerbread man’s torso. As he does, he feels a surge of energy course through his body. His stomach rumbles hungrily, craving more of the sweet, spicy flesh. He devours the rest of the torso in greedy mouthfuls, savoring every morsel. With each bite, Jeremy's transformation accelerates. His midsection expands, the once-skinny waistline now a chiseled expanse of defined abs. Each ripple and groove is etched into his skin like the finest marble sculpture. His chest broadens, pectoral muscles growing dense and powerful. His nipples harden into pert, masculine buds, standing proudly atop newly formed pecs. Shoulders widen, trapezius muscles bulging with strength.

Still unaware, Jeremy's hands tremble slightly as he brings the gingerbread man's arm to his mouth. He bites into the soft dough, feeling the texture melt between his teeth. The flavor explodes across his tongue, a perfect blend of spices and sweetness. As he chews, Jeremy's arms undergo a dramatic metamorphosis. Biceps and triceps swell, growing massive and imposing. Forearms thicken, veins popping out in stark relief. Wrists broaden, tendons standing out prominently as they anchor the gigantic muscles above. With each swallow, Jeremy's sense of balance and coordination deteriorate further. He stumbles backwards, dropping the gingerbread man's head onto the floor with a soft clatter. 

“Oh fuck!” He falls backwards and lands on his ass with a loud thump.

At that moment, his clothes rip from the strain of his muscles, falling away from his chiseled frame. Jeremy gasps when he sees his new figure. He surveys his new physique, hands reflexively reaching out to touch the ridged planes of his chest. His fingers trace the defined edges of his pectorals, marveling at the sheer size and hardness of the muscle beneath. Beneath the gaze of his own awestruck reflection, Jeremy becomes acutely aware of the substantial bulge straining against his underwear. He shifts uncomfortably, feeling the fabric dig into the newfound mass. With a sharp tug, the elastic waistband gives way, allowing the underwear to slip down his thighs and pool around his ankles.

“Holy shit... what did that gingerbread man do to me?” Jeremy gasps as he stares at his growing erection and he instinctively wraps a meaty hand around his cock.

A shiver runs down his spine as he realizes the full extent of his transformation - not just physical, but also primal and instinctual. His mind reels, struggling to comprehend the sudden shift in his desires and needs. Jeremy's gaze drifts to the remnants of the gingerbread man lying on the floor. The head, still intact, beckons to him with an unsettling allure. A part of his mind screams at him to resist, warning of unknown consequences, but the allure of the sweet, spicy treat proves too strong to ignore. With a sense of trepidation, Jeremy plucks up the gingerbread head. He brings it to his lips, hesitating for a moment before taking a tentative bite and then devouring it. The flavors explode across his taste buds, a potent cocktail of sugar, spice, and something darker, more primal.

“Oh fuck...” He grunts as he feels a pressure in his skull.

His features begin to shift, contorting into a more brutish, angular visage. His nose flattens, becoming wider and more prominent. Cheekbones sharpen, giving his face a harder, more chiseled appearance. His eyes, once a mirror into his sharp mind, become dull, gleaming with confidence and arrogance. A cocky smirk spreads across his lips, drawing attention to a set of perfectly straight, pearly white teeth.

“Oh yeah, I'm fucking beast mode now!” Jeremy boasts to no one in particular, admiring his reflection in the mirror, “Look at these guns!”

He flexes his massive biceps, watching in awe as the muscles ripple beneath his skin. He gives them each a kiss. His ego inflates with each passing second, replacing any semblance of humility or empathy.

“You know what? Fuck school. Who needs books when you've got a body like this?” Jeremy scoffs, kicking aside his textbooks and notes. “Time to live life to the fuckin’ fullest.”

A knock at the door pulls Jeremy away from his self-indulgence. He quickly grabs a pair of his old red briefs, which strain against his ass and cock, and strides over to the door. The frat boys who had earlier disrupted his study session stare wide-eyed at the towering, musclebound behemoth now standing before them. But their silence quickly turns into snickers and low whistles as they take in Jeremy's exaggerated physique and the prominent bulge straining against his skimpy underwear.

“Well, well, well, looks like that’s the way the cookie crumbled.” one of them jokes, elbowing his buddies and grinning wickedly. 

The others chuckle and high-five each other, clearly amused by their friend's successful prank. The ringleader steps forward, patting Jeremy's shoulder roughly.

“Welcome to the team, big guy! Now that you've got the right look, why don't you join us for some holiday cheer?”

Jeremy’s dull mind processes the request, and he grins as they hand him a Santa hat. And despite the cold, he joins his new brothers in their caroling. Belting out the words to various songs. Enjoying the looks of pure lust as he shows off his masculinity. As they walk back to the frat house, Jeremy felt a firm hand on his ass and feels the lustful eyes of his new frat bros on him.

“I think it might be time to frost our gingerbread man.” One of his bros snickers, adjusting his bulge, “You ready Jer?”

Jeremy's grin widens, his dull mind now consumed by a single-minded desire to please and impress his new fraternity brothers. He nods eagerly, a spark of excitement igniting in his chest at the prospect. He licks is lips, imaging their cocks in it- his ass pulsing with need. Yeah, he was going to give them a Christmas they’d never forget.

[downbad4sylus]

“I killed you”

synopsis: After spending the day with Sylus, the energy linkage binding you appears just when you were about to leave for the night, so you stay and fall asleep in Sylus’s bed only to have your past life finally catch up to you.

content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; pre-relationship; angst but happy ending; sort of cliff-hanger; vaguely proofread

word count: ~1.8k

a/n: been lurking in the LADS tag for ages now and finally got around to making an account so this is my first ever fic!!! i have a part 2 in the works if people want to see where the story goes after it ends but either way, hope you guys like it :)

You and Sylus had been spending quite a bit of time together lately. Ever since returning from the grasslands, you both stayed true to your promise to be more upfront and honest about what you wanted. And you both wanted to be near each other.

Whether it was Sylus helping with one of your missions or you accompanying him to his many auctions. Or something much simpler, like him dropping by your apartment in Linkon when he “happened to be in the area” or you visiting the Onychinus base in the N109 Zone because you also “happened to be in the area.” Either way, you’d been at the other’s side more often than not these days, which had a certain energy linkage making a reoccurring appearance as well.

The linkage appeared nearly every time you were with Sylus now, particularly when one of you was about to depart, the linkage stopping you from separating. You and Sylus had adopted a common practice of holding hands when linked, under the pretense it was just “easier” that way, not at all that either of you actually wanted to hold the other’s hand. No, nothing as silly as that.

Tonight had been no different.

You’d gone over to the base in the morning on a rare day off, expecting to find Sylus asleep but was pleasantly surprised when he was the one to answer the door.

“Morning sweetie,” he’d greeted with his signature smirk.

“Sylus? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” you’d asked, cocking your head as you stared up at him.

“I have some business to deal with during the day today,” he’d explained, ushering you into the base with a warm hand on the small of your back. “And lucky me, a certain kitten has come to accompany me.”

That was how you got roped into spending the day hopping from deal to deal with Sylus, clad in a dress he already had prepared for you to match his suit. But you didn’t mind, not one bit, you appreciated any time you got to spend with Sylus.

Ever the gentleman, Sylus took you to an expensive dinner once the deals were complete, ordering anything you so much as glanced at off the menu. He loved to spoil you, loved the little crease between your brows even more when you insisted he was going overboard. But as he always did, he told you he had more money than he knew what to do with, money he wanted to shower you in, and you were just going to have to get used to it.

By the time you returned to the base—and taken the shower Sylus wisely suggested—it was late, and you were exhausted. Sylus offered to drive you home himself, saying he’d have Luke and Kieran drop off your bike tomorrow, but you insisted the roads would be clear this time of night so it would be a quick ride back to Linkon. You didn’t really want to go though, and you would’ve stayed had you not had work in the morning.

Of course, a cheeky energy linkage had other plans.

Sylus leaned against the doorway, watching you as you turned away from him to head for your bike, only for your arm to jerk back suddenly.

He caught you before you could fall, your back flush with his broad chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist. Without a word, he lifted his other hand to which your own hand followed, the gold linkage shimmering in the moonlight.

“Guess you’re calling out of work,” he chuckled.

This shouldn’t have surprised you, not with the current track record, and honestly, you weren’t mad at all. Not when you were cuddled up to Sylus’s side in his bed, your linked hands entwined in the little space between you, already drifting off to sleep after an eventful day.

…

You were dreaming…

Dreaming about false accusations. About an Abyss, sealed beneath a fiend-filled city. About gold and treasure. About a dragon.

Your dragon.

You were dreaming about Sylus, a dragon with a human form. About a life spent in exile with him, raiding and pillaging, taking from others to hoard for yourselves.

You were dreaming about falling in love with your dragon. Teaching him about human love and compassion. Only to be torn apart by a curse.

You were dreaming…

No.

You were remembering.

You didn’t know how you knew it, but deep in your soul you knew this other life with Sylus was not simply conjured by your subconscious.

And the worst memory was saved for last.

On the day you were to be executed, when your dragon swooped in and killed your accusers. When you thought you’d be able to embrace your dragon one last time, and instead drove a claymore straight through his chest.

You lived through the last time you and Sylus flew through the skies, of him using the last of his strength to bring you to the field of datura flowers you’d both only dreamed of.

You lived through clutching your beloved dragon, pleading with him not to leave you, but he’d died in your arms and disintegrated into ash.

…

You woke abruptly, chest heaving and heart beating wildly. You threw off the arm Sylus had slung over your waist in his sleep and forced him onto his back as you straddled his waist, ripping his robe open to reveal his chest. In the sliver of moonlight coming through the curtains, you saw Sylus’s bare chest, free of scales, no red pattern etched into his skin, no red gem at the center of his chest, and most importantly, no claymore.

Sylus, who had been startled awake by your sudden manhandling, stared up at you with wide eyes, watching as tears streamed down your cheeks and onto the chest your gaze was locked on.

“Sweetie,” he murmured, raising a hand to brush the hair out of your face.

Your eyes snapped to his. “I killed you,” you whispered.

His hand froze midair.

It couldn’t be.

“I killed you,” you repeated, no less quiet but far more anguished.

You remembered.

Sylus couldn’t believe it, you actually remembered.

He’d long given up hope of you recalling the past you shared with him, and, if he was being honest with himself, was glad you didn’t. He was happy with you as you were now, not much different than when he knew you then. Your time together did not end happily and the last thing he wanted was for you to go through such heartbreak again. Yet here you were, doing exactly that.

Sylus broke free of his stupor and wrapped his arms securely around you, hauling you into his lap as he sat up against the headboard. You buried your face in his neck, racked with heart-wrenching sobs.

“How could you make me do that?” you wailed, clutching his robe so hard your knuckles were white.

Sylus rubbed your back in an attempt to comfort you. “I had to,” he answered, his voice rough as he too remembered that fateful day. “I couldn’t let you die, but had we both lived, you would’ve succumbed to the curse with me. I couldn’t let that happen, you didn’t deserve that.”

“But it meant I lost you, Sylus!” you cried.

He hugged you closer to him. “I know, Y/N, and I’m so sorry.”

It was all he could offer you. He couldn’t take back what he’d done, what he’d taken from you, that he’d left you alone. But his words were true, he’d rather die than you fall to the curse alongside him. You saved his life with half your soul, the least he could do was spare you from his fate.

That was what love was, wasn’t it? Sacrifice. He’d fall on the sword a hundred times over if it meant saving you, his beloved. You were everything to him, his reason for living, breathing.

Sylus sat, holding you tight while you mourned a lifetime’s worth of love and loss, until your sobs quieted and your short breaths were warm against his neck.

You traced a finger along his collarbone, dipping down into the center of his chest where the red gem once rested. “Sylus.”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“If I told you I loved you, would you make me kill you again?”

His heart stopped, though he couldn’t tell if it was because you all but confessed your love for him or if it was from the thought of you having to take his life again.

Sylus recovered quickly however, not wanting to cause you any unnecessary stress. “The curse died with the dragon,” he said softly. “The only one that remains is your own, sweetie.”

You were quiet for a beat. “The one where you’re tied to me? Where only I can grant you a true death?”

“Yes, that one.”

You nodded.

Pieces were clicking into place for you. Everything Sylus had done when you first met, down the what he’d said, it was to jog your memory. He just wanted you to remember him. No wonder he’d treated you like that, he was trying to provoke the old you. It broke your heart realizing that you hadn’t remembered him, that it probably broke his.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, choking on a sob.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Sylus said firmly.

“I didn’t remember you,” you protested weakly.

“I know, sweetie, and it’s okay,” he assured gently.

You shook your head, your chest aching at his gentle tone. Despite not remembering him, Sylus still wanted to spend time with you, to get to know this you. He didn’t have to make an effort, but he still wanted you. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve someone like him. To have fallen in love not once but twice with a man who’d sacrifice himself in order to save you.

You lifted your head and gazed into those beautiful, gem-like eyes. “Sylus?”

His own gaze didn’t waver from yours. “Yes, sweetie.”

“Is there a field of flowers near the N109 Zone that we could visit tomorrow?” you asked.

Sylus’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but then his full lips lifted into a smile. “Not in the N109 Zone, but close enough to drive to. Can I know why you’re asking?”

A smile teased your own lips. “I’d like to bring our dream to reality, if that’s all right with you.”

Sylus reached up, finally brushing that strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “It’s more than all right with me.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, the meaning no longer lost to you. “Sleep now, we can go in the morning.”

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

This this this

I grew up homeschooled in a family where my parents basically had us fend for ourselves, while also discouraging us from doing any sort of activity or maintain friendships, so the vast majority of my life was spent feeling cut off and inadequate compared to my peers

Shockingly, I ended up having severe depression, (as did my siblings) and developed extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms and habits as a young teenager, as well as other mental issues.

When I finally was able to start the process of getting help(which truly didn't start until the last few years, despite me being in therapy a decade) and started to do things outside of my usual habits, such as going to school and also getting a job(despite my parents trying to discourage me on my bad days), I was now an adult and felt like there was so much I missed out on, especially when looking at my friends experiences at the same ages.

It's so easy to dwell on those thoughts and revert back to old habits, and even harder to try and work through them(like pushing myself to get out of bed, or go to a function with friends). So many people I know who don't have depression just assume it's a little bit of laziness and sadness, and act like everything would be fixed if I just listened only to happy music and refused antidepressants because my generation is 'overmedicated'. And while we definitely are over medicated, without those medicines, so many people (myself included) wouldn't be here.

While my depression is better, and thankfully I've been pretty good with catching up on lost time academic wise, I still struggle with depression and the fallout from everything that has contributed to it. I hang out with friends but almost always end up feeling drained or depressed afterwards, even though I'm around people I care about and like, and I know they feel the same, there is always that voice in my head that one day they're going to change their minds and realize I'm not worth it or that maybe they don't actually like me.

Depression takes a huge toll on my body, I am always tired and overwhelmed, and when I am around friends and peers I feel like I'm an imposter just hoping no one catches on and questions the fact I try to mimic others behavior in hopes I blend in better (even if it's something I know to do, I suddenly feel awkward and panicked and act like I've never dealt with it before, thus watching others and trying to copy movements/actions, even if it's something I'm very knowledgeable about/good at)

I am drained because I feel I have to put on a front that everything is fine, and I feel bubbly and happy all the time, because otherwise people think I'm ungrateful/slighting them, or there out of pity(my sister is someone who thinks all of those reasons unless I'm all happy on the outside). Even though so many times, I was looking forward to doing something or spending time with someone, but for no reason I can think of, I get struck by depression when the time comes, but I still want to take part, because I worry I'll regret missing out, so I go and spend the time trying to act how people want me to, which is exhausting.

It's taken years to get used to these bad days, and I am working to let myself have a breather or just listening to what my body needs when it happens, (I've been better lately and I'm proud of that, but I still struggle occasionally). It's taken years to learn to stop comparing my life with what my younger cousin or old friend is doing/has done by my age, (or if they've done even more), slightly less to learn to ignore the timeframe society(and family) deems is 'normal', and since then, my quality of life has been better.

All this to say, depression has ruled my life and I deal with that everyday, and it is hard to ignore the sadness I feel for my young self and all she never got to do. But, I made it to 23 (something my 13yr old self never thought would happen), and even tho I didn't get to experience things on what is considered a 'normal' timeline for people my age, I have a whole lifetime of experiences to look forward to, and while my depression may be a part of those, it won't be for all of them.

You know what people don’t talk about often enough? Playing catch up in life after spending your teens or early 20s suicidally depressed. There’s so many more layers than just being able to say “I don’t want to die anymore.”

The difficulty in academia or a career after spending years thinking you wouldn’t be alive long enough for any of it to matter.

The exhaustion that comes from self awareness and self soothing, with the constant voice in your head saying “don’t go backwards.”

How lonely it is to watch the people your age starting families when you’re just barely learning what stable relationships are, and the sudden societal pressure of being “up against a clock” for these kinds of things.

The judgement from others if you change your image or interests this late in the game just because you finally figured out who you really are under the demons.

Be kind to those who are developing and blooming after years of not planning on being here long. We are living a life we absolutely didn’t think we’d have, and it’s hard enough without society reminding us there’s expectations of our age.

We didn’t get to be young; we were too busy fighting battles few know.

-

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

You’re insecure (don’t know what for.)

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Here’s a little Christmas gift for you all!! 🎄🎁 I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :) (p.s I didn’t really proofread this as much because I was getting self conscious and yeah. Happy reading!)

Word count: 1,698.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night and you were lounging in your apartment feeling like the absolute scum of the earth over bouts of insecurity arising in you over some comments made about you throughout the past few weeks.

Comments about how Wanda was too good for you.

How she was way out of your league and how people were clueless as to why she was with you. How a stunning woman like her, could be with someone as simple looking as you.

Thoughts that you yourself have had with your girlfriend basically being a walking goddess and all, how could you not let your mind stray to think those things when you've seen firsthand more attractive people vying for her attention.

So there you were feeling like utter shit while playing video games, when a call from an unknown number came into your phone.

"Hello?" You answer cautiously.

"Y/N?" You hear exclaimed through the phone, having a hard time hearing due to the music blasting from the other side of the call.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, who is this?" You ask not immediately recognizing the voice.

"Hey, it's me, Nat," the voice supplies, "my phone died so I'm using someone else's. Anyway, so you know how we went out to the bar to grab a few drinks? Well, as we were making our way back to your place, your girlfriend found a club and made her way inside. She's on the dance floor crying, she won't let me take her home, she wants you," Natasha yells through the speaker causing you to immediately stand up and begin looking for your keys.

"Is she okay?" You ask worriedly, your movements halting momentarily.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine, just super drunk," Natasha says, her voice muffled by the sounds around her. "Hey, no Wanda, get off of there, you can't do that!" You suddenly hear Natasha say and you hurry your movements once again, "listen, we're at the Avengers Night Club in uptown, it’s not too far from your place so there's no rush, but the faster you're here, the better. So please, don't take too long," the redhead pleads and you nod, realizing after a moment she can't see you.

"Uh, yeah, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, thank you Nat," you say appreciatively.

"No worries, see you soon," she replies breathless, "Wanda, oh my god, no you can't eat that, that's a candle-" you hear suddenly and the call disconnects.

When you locate your keys you hastily make your way out of your apartment and into your car. The 10 minute drive to the club feeling eternal.

When you finally reach your destination you park your car and make your way inside the club, immediately finding Natasha.

"Nat!" You exclaim over the music.

"Hey!" The redhead turns to greet you pulling you into a hug.

"Where is she?" You ask Wanda's best friend when you pull back.

The shorter woman frowns, "wait, what the fuck, she was just here a minute ago!" She yells over the music, eyes scanning the club and immediately landing on your girlfriend that is taking shots with a group of people across the bar from where you stand, "there she is!" Natasha says, finger pointing in Wanda's direction.

Once you spot her you nod and with Natasha make your way towards your girlfriend, trying your best not to bump into people in the process. As soon as you reach Wanda, you immediately realize she is much drunker than you have ever seen her be in the two years that you've been together.

"Hey Wanda, Y/N is here, let's get you home," Natasha says as she gathers your girlfriend into her arms.

"That's not gonna work Natty, I know she's not here, you've been saying that all night you little liar," Wanda singsongs, bopping Natasha's nose, causing the redhead to roll her eyes in annoyed amusement.

"I'm serious Wands, she's right there," Natasha says as she turns the redhead to face you.

"Oh, my god! Baby!" Wanda exclaims excitedly, hands thrown up in the air, a drunken smile on her lips.

"Hey Max," you greet with an amused chuckle.

"New friends, hey, hey," Wanda says, waving at the other patrons she was drinking with, "this is my amazingly beautiful girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N," she beams, pulling you in by your waist to introduce you to the group of strangers.

"Hey!" The group exclaimed loudly.

"Hey," you say softly, waving shyly at the sudden attention.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," you hear Wanda say, turning to face her and you see green eyes glossed over with adoration and love, "my beautiful baby, my stunning lover, I love you so much," she yells, voice full of affection.

"How much have you had to drink, amor?" You ask, blushing red.

"I'm not drunk," Wanda slurs, and you raise a challenging eyebrow, "okay, I am drunk. Drunk in love," she says with a dopey smile.

You shake your head, "okay, you're definitely wasted," you say with a laugh.

"No. No, I'm not baby. You really are my beautiful lover. So so beautiful," she pouts, hands cradling your face as tears gloss over in her green eyes. "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you my love, because you're so stunning. You think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen, but that's bullshit! You are the most beautiful person ever! You're so amazing Y/N, you make me so happy and you're so nice, all my friends love you, you treat me like a queen. You're perfect," Wanda says, tears rolling down her face, "I just- I love you so much," she says as she begins sobbing into her hands.

"Okay amor mio, let's get you going," you say, gathering Wanda into your arms as you begin to make your way out of the nightclub. "Hey Nat you good, do you need a ride or something?" You ask the redhead once you make it outside.

"No, I'm good, I think I might stay a little longer, I definitely just saw someone check me out and I want to see where that goes," she smirks and you chuckle, "you just get home safe and call me if you need me alright?" Natasha says as she pulls you and your girlfriend into a hug.

"Yeah sure, thank you," you say appreciatively, "and if you need anything please don't hesitate to call," the redhead nods her head and makes her way back into the club as you walk to your car. After placing Wanda in the passenger side, you buckle her in and make the drive back to your apartment.

Getting Wanda into your home seems to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, the redhead more asleep than awake to properly walk, the alcohol in her system causing her to slightly sway back and forth as you take her up to the apartment.

Once you make it inside you take Wanda to your room, laying her down softly on the bed as you begin her nightly routine.

First you take off her shoes, placing them in your closet. Then you grab one of your t-shirts for her to sleep in. Taking off her dress being nearly impossible as Wanda softly snores.

Once you complete your mission and dress your girlfriend you make your way to your bathroom to grab some makeup removing wipes. As you sit beside your girlfriend you begin gently cleaning off the make-up Wanda wore, your soft swipes across her face causing the redhead to stir awake.

"Hmm, baby, what are you doing?" Wanda asks, voice thick, full of sleep.

"Just taking your makeup off amor, go back to sleep," you whisper, continuing with your task.

"It's okay, leave it on, just lay with me," your girlfriend pouts, tugging on your arm to pull you into bed beside her and you chuckle softly.

"I will in a bit Max, let me just take this off so you can sleep comfortably," you smile as Wanda's eyes slowly open, unshed tears building in her beautiful green eyes. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?" You ask slowly, a look of confusion on your face at your girlfriend's sudden change in mood.

"You're so good to me baby. So good," Wanda whispers, tears pouring down her face.

Cupping her face gently you wipe her tears away, "hey, none of that Wands, you're my girl. I love taking care of you and you do the same for me, so it's all good," you say smiling softly.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but you're everything to me,” Wanda sobs, voice full of emotion, "and don't think I haven't noticed how in your head you have gotten as of late. I know you, and I know what people have been saying has been affecting you. But just know that I put them in their place and that I love you and only you detka, I don't care what they have to say, you are my person and they can all fuck off if they think you’re no good for me, because they don’t know you the way I do,” she monologues. “They don’t know how truly happy you make me. They don’t know how well you take care of me. They don’t know that just by being with you it makes me want to be a better person. They don’t know anything, my love,” she says and you let out a sob.

“God, I love you so much Max, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” you say, crying.

“You’re it for me detka, before you I wasn’t truly living, it’s like everything was preparing me for this moment, now come on, get in bed, let’s go to sleep,” Wanda says as she takes your hands, pulling you into the space beside her.

As you crawl in behind her, you wrap your arms around her frame, “I love you Wanda,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my love,” she replies before you both drift off to sleep.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Christmas Future - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 3031>

Cancelled.

That was the word in red that flittered after every single flight on the departures board at Gatwick airport. Your flight was cancelled and so was everyone else's. 

You probably should have guessed that this was going to happen, but the small part of you that was desperate to go home was being optimistic. Pulling out your phone, you shot a few texts to your family to tell them that, unless the blizzard magically blew over, there was no way in hell that you were getting home on time to be there for Christmas morning. Or Christmas at all. 

Everyone was resigned to the same fate, pulling their books and portable chargers out of their bags in preparation for the undoubtable hours that were to come. People were standing around, sitting on floors, crammed onto the seemingly endless yet dwindling seats.

You were standing too, still with your eyes glued to the screen as if it would change the words on the surface by sheer will. Turning your head, you saw the snowflakes dancing in the wind and battering the large windows of the airport, and you knew that your hopes were getting crushed.

You went to stand by the seats, waiting for someone to make the grave mistake of getting up to get a snack or go to the toilet. You knew it was going to be a while before someone caved and let their basic human rights override their need to have a seat, but you just stuffed your earphones into your ears and let the music take the time away.

After a few hours, your feet were starting to get sore, so you lowered yourself to the floor like a lot of other people around. It had cleared out slightly, since some people had just left to go and find a hotel for the night instead of sleeping on the floor of the airport. 

The idea had crossed your mind a few times, but you wanted the opportunity to be on the first flight going as soon as possible. Being home was worth having a sore back and exhaustion. 

You noticed how a few people had started talking to each other randomly, just for some way to pass the time. It was strange how they would have just ignored each other in passing, but were now getting to know one another.

While you were busy making up fake scenarios about the people you were seeing around, you failed to notice a pair of eyes watching you. He couldn't help but notice the disappointment on your face when all flights were cancelled until further notice and the tiredness in your expression when you slumped down on the floor. 

He wondered if you were like him, just trying to get home in time for Christmas. He saw has your head lolled back and your eyes started to flutter closed, and he spotted the slight wince in your expression as you shifted around, trying to get comfortable. 

He felt bad. He had been sat there for hours, and he was pretty settled. And there you were, a young lady being forced to sit on the floor. The chivalrous side of him was telling him to give up the seat for you, but the self-preservation was also telling him to stay in his seat and not be so generous to strangers. 

But, he eventually gave in. Leaving his backpack on the seat so that no one would take it, he got up and walked over to you. His back was practically groaning after being in the same position for so long. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, his voice feeling hoarse from not having used it in a few hours.

"Excuse me, miss?" he asked, hoping you could hear him over your music, because that could have gotten very awkward. For a few seconds, he didn't think that you had heard him, but you took one of your earphones out to listen to him. 

"Yeah?" you said, looking up at the handsome stranger. He was tall, but that was probably because he was towering over you. He had a thick mop of nearly black hair, falling over the tanned skin of his forehead. But his eyes captured you the most. Deep and brown. All too easy to get lost in. 

"I had just noticed you've been sitting here for a long time, and you look like you could use rest in a proper chair," he said, and you couldn't help but let a soft smile spread across your lips. A handsome stranger with manners? Now you really felt like you were dreaming. Maybe the lack of sleep was making you delirious. 

"Are you sure? I don't mind sitting here if you don't want to lose your seat," you said, grateful for his generosity, but also feeling slightly guilty at the thought of taking up his offer. 

"Course, I've been sat there for a few hours. I don't mind taking the floor for a little while," he smiled, rocking back on his heels slightly. This was getting into dangerous territory now. Handsome, manners, dazzling smile. 

"Well thank you," you said, putting your things back in your bag and making a poor attempt at standing up. He offered a hand out to you, and you took it without hesitation. They were a lot bigger than yours, as well has a lot warmer. Slightly calloused too, he could probably do with some hand cream but you doubted he was that type of guy.

Walking you over to the seat, he picked his backpack up from it and slung it over his left shoulder. Slumping down into the seat, your body was happy to have some small sliver of a cushion as opposed to just hard flooring.

The stranger just stood there, unsure of whether to walk away and find some free floor space or wait with you. You noticed his internal struggle, and decided that you didn't want the stranger to return to being a stranger just yet. 

"Do you want to sit with me? I've got a neck pillow you can use, since you're going to be on the floor?" you asked, instantly feeling like an idiot. It felt like your attraction to him was completely obvious, but there was no way to get to know someone unless you talked to them.

"Sure," he nodded with that smile again. You shuffled your legs to the side so that he could rest his back on the edge of the seat, and you pulled your neck pillow out of your bag to hand to him. He had to admit, it was a very nice and comfy neck pillow. 

Despite what you could only assume to be a whole day of travelling, he still smelt unreal as he sat so close to you. Something deep, musky. Definitely something expensive. 

The stranger was also thinking of you as you sat there. He'd expect someone to be cranky after all of the flights being cancelled - especially on Christmas Eve. Yet here you were, being so nice to him after a day of globe trotting. 

"So, what's your name?" he asked, turning his head to look at you. 

"Y/N, you?" you returned.

"Carlos." he said, and he suited the name. His shoulder kept brushing against your legs, and you could feel the warmth of him through his jacket sleeve. "Were you heading home for the holidays?" he questioned, looking down at his watch as if the flights would suddenly be back on. 

It looked expensive, even if you didn't know the exact brand. He likely had money, was probably flying business or first class. It wasn't apparent quite yet which one it would be. 

"Yeah, I was. But I don't think anyone is making it in time for Christmas at this rate." you explained, and he nodded in response. 

"Me too. But I think I'll have to be prepared for the family to open presents without me," he said, and you could hear the hint of sadness in his tone. You completely understood, since this would be the first Christmas that you wouldn't be spending with your family.

"So where would home be if this blizzard wasn't keeping us all hostage?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Carlos seemed to get the hint, chuckling slightly at your quip. It was a hearty, deep sound. One that made the cold airport seem a little warmer. 

"Madrid, not a long flight thankfully. I'd hate to do some sort of long haul after being stuck here for however long we're going to be."

"But I guess you can get a good sleep on a long haul. On shorter flights, there's not much time to fall asleep and get enough rest so then you'll be even more tired on landing then customs and baggage claim and then getting to where you need to go." you rambled, and you noticed that Carlos was just looking at you. 

He was staring up at you from his spot on the floor. He had a soft smile on his face, as if he was enjoying your little analysis into long haul versus short haul flights at a time like this. "Sorry..." you mumbled, looking down at your lap. 

"No, no. You're good," he reassured, nudging you in the leg with his shoulder. You felt comfortable with Carlos, despite the fact that you had only known him for about ten minutes. The two of you settled into a silence for a short while, just enjoying having someone there to talk to if you felt like it.

Snow was still hammering against the window, and it wasn't showing any signs of slowing down any time soon. Sighing to yourself, you leant back in your chair to try and get comfy for a short nap. Carlos noticed you shifting and turned to look at you.

"Do you want your pillow back?" he asked.

"No, it's OK. You're on the floor, you need it more," you shook your head, shuffling to try and find some sort of position that your body would allow you to sleep in.

"Wake me up if there are any flights to Geneva. Or if you get a flight so that I can say goodbye," you told him.

"Geneva, eh?" he asked, looking very intrigued. "I would not have guessed that you're swiss." he continued. To be fair, he was very obviously Spanish, so it was easy to guess. With you, it was a bit more of a mystery. 

"I'm not, my entire family live there," you explained, and he was listening intently. 

"Well that's cool. I'm sure Geneva is stunning at Christmas," he said, and you nodded in response while stifling a yawn. "Anyway, I'll let you sleep. And I will only wake you up if I have to go if there is a flight for you," he repeated, with a somewhat melancholy expression. 

Carlos didn't want to say goodbye to you, not so soon. He had become captivated by the girl that he had first seen, eyes glued to the board in hopes that her flight might be reinstated or rescheduled to something in the near future. 

He couldn't say why, either. All he knew was your name and that you were heading home to Geneva. Well, that was where your family was. He didn't know where you were from originally. But, he wanted to find out. For the meantime, however, he would let you rest and just hope that another flight wouldn't pop up for either of you. 

He wanted to go home for Christmas, but he'd make it back in time for lunch at least if the flights held out for another few hours. That way, he'd get to spend some time with you and would be able to have ample time with his family at home. 

His texts to them weren't getting through due to how bad the weather was, but he was sure that they had been tracking his flight and would have seen that it was cancelled. They also knew he was at the airport, so they hopefully wouldn't worry too much about his whereabouts. 

About 3 hours had gone by, and Carlos' phone was nearly dead. So was his back. You were still sleeping. Maybe not so peacefully, but you were sleeping nonetheless. He was itching to get a coffee or something, just to wake him up a little. 

Carlos stood up, stretching out his muscles as they groaned in protest. "Hey, hey," he mumbled, gently nudging you awake. The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Carlos standing over you, and you had to give yourself a few moments to verify that this wasn't a dream. 

"Are you going? Am I going?" you sleepily murmured, really hoping that neither of you had to leave just yet.

"No, I was just going to get a coffee and I was wondering if you wanted anything from any of the shops? Snacks, drinks, maybe a blanket from somewhere. Whatever you want." he said, taking his hand off of your shoulder and shoving it back into his pocket. 

"Just a coffee, please. Might perk me up," you told him, and he nodded before turning and walking off in the direction of the shops. It would be a miracle if they had any coffee left after hours of people waiting in the airport, but Carlos went knew that he needed to try. 

He went to a few coffee shops, most of them not having anything caffeinated and only soft drinks. Eventually, though, he found a very small cafe tucked away in the corner. Thankfully, they had a few coffees left, so Carlos ended up buying 2 coffees and 2 waters. 

It was harder than expected to locate you in the rows upon rows of seats, since there were many people who looked like you from the back. But, some intuition that he had sent him in the direction of where you were. And there he spotted you. Yes, it was only the back of your head, but he knew it was you. 

"Here you go," he announced, holding the to-go cup out to you. You took it from him with a grateful smile. He also fished out a water from his pocket, handing it out to you.

"Thank you," you said, sipping at the coffee. It was slightly too hot, burning your throat as it went down. The bitterness was welcome however, and you could already feel the caffeine seeping into your bloodstream. "That is perfection,"

"It's funny what something so simple can do, eh? Just a cup of bean water can make all the difference," he chuckled, and the sound was so infectious. It made the hustle and bustle of the stagnant airport seem a little less strange.

Just as Carlos finished his sentence, the chair next to him was vacated. The man who was originally sat in it was on the phone and was not looking pleased. It was probably his wife, asking where the hell he was. Carlos was quick off the mark, sitting down in it quickly before anyone else got any bright ideas after eyeing up the spot. 

"There we go. Now we both have some rock hard plastic to sit on," he laughed, stretching his long legs out in front of him. For a while, the two of you were talking. You had lent him your power bank to charge his phone, and his texts to his family finally went through. 

"Well would you look at the time," you declared, checking your phone and seeing that it was five minutes to midnight. Christmas was right on the horizon, and you weren't going to be seeing your family any time soon. Or opening presents. Or having dinner with them. 

"Huh, looks like we'll be spending the majority of Christmas in this airport. Or we can get a hotel room. Well, I... not we, I meant me and you can have separate ones, I'm not trying to-" he stuttered, and it was strange to see him so rattled after being so composed over the last few hours. 

"I know what you meant, Carlos. Don't worry. But I want to be on the first available flight home, so I will wait it out right here." you said, and he nodded in agreement. What you didn't know was that, if you were getting a hotel room, so was he. If you weren't, he wasn't either. 

"Me too." he agreed, checking his watch to see that there was now only 3 minutes until Christmas day. His family were all asleep in their beds, aware of his turmoil, yet comfortable while you were stuck. 

He felt guilty that he wasn't going to be there like he had promised. He was away all year, and the one time he always promised to be there, he wasn't. If he was being fair to himself, this was the first time that he had never been home for Christmas in his entire career, so his track record was pretty good. 

You were thinking the same thing about your own family. There was nothing you wanted more than to teleport to your room and head downstairs to open presents and celebrate with the people you loved more than anything else in this world.

Checking the time once again, you opened your phone just in time to watch the clock strike midnight. "Merry Christmas, Carlos," you said, sincerely smiling at him. There were much worse ways to be spending Christmas trapped in an airport, that was for sure. You had lucked out with a handsome, kind and likely rich Spanish casanova.

"Feliz Navidad, Y/N." he said, and you couldn't help but feel the butterflies spark at the Spanish. And the blush on your cheeks had totally given you away. He liked seeing you flustered. And this wasn't a bad way to spend Christmas, and neither of you wanted to spend it like this again.

But, the ghost of Christmas future had a better idea. Well, they had a better idea for a few things. The scenario? No. The setting? No way. The person? Hell yes. The future was already setting paths out for both of you, and all you had to do was choose to walk down it.

A/N - Merry Christmas my darlings! I know, I have been dead to the world for a month and a bit, but the inspiration was on a low down. Or a complete zero. Alas, that does not mean that I was going to allow myself to not get a Christmas special out! I might have missed every other holiday, but I will not let myself miss this years! Also, the FIFTH part to the Lando series will be out later today as a little further Christmas present. So, merry Christmas to those who celebrate, have an equally wonderful day to those who don't, and thank you for all of the support this year. I hope I can be more consistent next year, but I am not making any promises.

Want more Christmas fun? Click here and here.

|masterlist|

[spxllcxstxr]

Jayce and Viktor Dating Someone with ADHD • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hiiii how are you? I love your stories so I was wondering if you could write more jayvik x reader but who has adhd? TYSMM -- anon and Your Jayvik + reader headcanons have me are giddy and are healing my soul. Is it possible to ask for a some headcanons with a reader who has ADHD and also forgets to eat because of it?? I hope your day is kind to you! -- anon

Warnings: gn!reader, reader has ADHD, mentions of food and eating/not eating, these are lowkey kinda short im so sorry lol

A.N: Disclaimer: I don't have ADHD but I have many friends that do and while ADHD presents itself differently for people, I tried to keep this a bit generalized, I hope that's ok!! If anything needs changing or needs to be deleted for being inaccurate or anything, just let me know! Hope you guys enjoy!!

•

Jayce and Viktor are both very understanding people, so when you told them you had ADHD they didn’t have a problem with it. They are, however, problem solvers (they are inventors with the dream of making Piltover and Zaun better for the people), meaning they are very curious about your habits and how they can help. They don’t want to “cure” you, because there’s nothing to cure, but they want to understand how to reassure you and how to make living with ADHD easier on a day-to-day basis

If you’re someone who fidgets with things a lot, Jayce will happily pick up the task of making something that satisfies your need to occupy your hands and your thoughts. He loves being in the forge and he’ll gladly let you sit in there with him and listen to you describe what you would want. He’ll sit next to you, sketching out the design while you ramble about what textures are better than others or how weighty it should feel in your hand. Jayce honestly loves this little side project; not only does it let him work on something other than his research, but it also puts a smile on your face

If you like rambling for hours about your latest hyperfixation, Viktor is the best for that. He has a naturally curious mind and would love to learn something new. He especially likes it when your head is resting on his chest in the middle of the night. Viktor likes watching you move your hands as you talk excitably about the plant life in Ionia or the history of the Yordles. He doesn’t just listen—he’ll ask you questions or give you reading material he thinks you may like as well

Going to Council parties or even just walking through Piltover can really overwhelm you sometimes, either with all the noise or the texture of your clothing feeling off, so your partners are very attentive to your wellbeing. The three of you set up a codeword for anyone to use when someone needs or wants to leave. They try to make it something funny every time to hopefully ease the panic a little bit. Usually Jayce and Viktor are glued to either side of you hip, but in the off chance they have to roam around the room, the two of them will try to keep an eye on you. They will always reassure you that it's ok that they are leaving these sorts of events early (Viktor barely wants to go in the first place), and when you get home the three of you will do something to calm everyone down and get into comfortable clothes

Having ADHD, you tend to get distracted/forget to do certain things. This usually includes eating. Your partners never want to seem overbearing or like they're smothering you, so they will try to subtly remind you to eat/do certain things. Jayce likes writing you little notes and putting them in the apartment. Usually they have little hearts in the corners with some encouraging remark after "remember to eat!" Viktor will usually try to eat with you, so you won't feel alone while eating. He'll be making something and he'll set the table for either two or three and that just reminds you to actually sit down and eat what Viktor makes

Your partners are very patient and are always open to new ideas. if you want them to do something different or if something works really well, they would love to hear it. They absolutely will not be mad at all, they love you so much and all they want to do is help make things easier for you

•

[alex-procrastinates]

as a nearsighted glasses wearer this is very accurate, i think it should be very helpful! :)

if it's ok, i'd also like to add a few things:

sports are not usually an issue with glasses (except when you get hit directly in the face with a ball and your glasses get shoved into your nose, which really fucking hurts!) for example, i do gymnastics and my glasses have fallen off about 3 times in 9 years of doing cartwheels and flipping around bars and all sorts of stuff. i have, however, recently smacked myself in the face with my leg and bent my glasses slightly out of shape, which is kinda annoying lol

if you have worn glasses for long enough it is possible for them to just become like a part of your body. i've had glasses for 9 years and i sometimes forget to take them off before i get in the shower!

people who see you without your glasses for the first time WILL comment on how different you look, and sometimes might not recognise you at first

if you are drinking a hot drink and breathe into your mug, your glasses will fog up. it usually goes away within a few seconds.

a nearsighted character might rest their glasses on their forehead while reading or using their phone. i know bc i do this all the time

not sure if this is true for other vision impairments, but for nearsighted people, water can refract light in a similar way to their glasses, so they can see a bit better underwater even when wearing normal goggles. my underwater vision is almost perfectly clear, but my eyes aren't that bad.

in australia we usually call nearsighted "short-sighted" and farsighted "long-sighted". this seems to be true for the uk as well

hope this helps! and to op, if you're uncomfortable with me adding to your post, just let me know and i'll delete my reblog :)

How to write a character with glasses

A guide for anyone wanting to write characters with glasses, but doesn’t know how yet.

 Different types of visual impairment

Near-sighted – not being able to see stuff in the distance

Far-sighted – not being able to see stuff up close

Presbyopia – easier in German: Altersweitsichtigkeit = elderly far-sightedness, not being able to read small print when you’re older, sometimes end up being far- and near-sighted at the same time

Astigmatism – light is not focused evenly on the retina, results in distorted and blurry vision

it’s also pretty normal to have different prescriptions for both eyes, one being stronger/weaker than the other one

 Different types of visual aids

Eyeglasses with actual glasses – easier to break, so more dangerous, can be grinded and polished differently than other material

Plastic glasses – lighter than the real glass, not that easy to get damaged

Reading glasses – only needed for reading and driving

Monocle – old-fashioned aesthetic

Bifocals – glasses that correct presbyopia, bottom is seeing closer, top for seeing in the distance

Contact lenses – different types (post about it coming soon)

 How to write it?

think about what kind of visual impairment does your character have?

what are they able to see?

can they see basically everything, but cannot read correctly?

can they see enough to get by, but cannot read and drive and get headaches without their glasses?

can they only see blurred images and colours?

do not change it halfway through the story! Choose their impairment and then stick with it.

what are situations where the glasses could hinder them?

are they doing a lot of sport, are they getting into fights, situations where they don’t want to wear them for aesthetic reasons?

can they not do something because of their impairment? (joining security forces, driving big trucks, etc.)

are they annoyed that they have to wear them? Are they only wearing contact lenses or are they just avoiding wearing anything even though they can’t see everything?

you don’t have to make a big deal out of your character wearing glasses, but it does play a big part in your character’s life

remember to put in a few references about it here and there throughout the story

things to consider

glasses fog up

through temperature changes

while going outside or coming in

while sweating

glasses need to be adjusted

they will never stay where they are supposed to be

especially when moving around and keeping your head down

the character will need to adjust them from time to time and push them up again

glasses need to be cleaned a lot

everything will make them dirty

best option are specific cleaners

if you don’t have them handy a shirt will have to do, but it needs to be the right material, synthetic stuff is not working

people with glasses will ask their friends for their shirts if they have to

sunglasses, swim goggles and 3D glasses are impractical

3D glasses need to be over the glasses and it can be tricky to get it right

sunglasses need the right prescription and then you would have to change glasses every time you enter a building

there are clips that go over the normal glasses, but they have to be exact to look fine

swim goggles can also be with prescription, but you would also have to get your glasses as soon as you’re out of the water to take the goggles off and still see enough

there are also special glasses for other sports (it’s not great to do sports with real glasses, because if they break it can severely damage your eyes)

times where you have to take the glasses off

when showering

when going to bed

when putting on shirts with a tight neckline

glasses are expensive

some insurances pay for them, a lot don’t

the worse the eyesight the more expensive they get

glasses and frames are two different things and get sold separately (you can have really expensive glasses in a cheap frame or vice versa)

you also need a spare pair of glasses, if you lose yours or they get damaged (often this is just an old pair, where the prescription is no longer strong enough)

more things to consider

a new partner cannot just take the glasses and throw them to the side, when the fun starts, if it leaves the character without being able to see properly, there needs to be some more trust there

people will take the glasses and put them on, yelling ‘OMG you’re really blind!’ and then ask you how they look like, especially funny when you really can’t see them

people asking ‘how many fingers can you see?’

light hits differently, which means you see light differently and also, it’s hard to take good pictures with glasses

rain is a nightmare, it’s like driving through rain without a windshield wiper

having to be careful on roller coasters and other stuff, because they can and will fly off

especially with astigmatism it’s hard to drive at night

going to the hair dresser can be annoying when they take your glasses off and then ask you if that’s the right length to cut it and you can’t see it

you cannot lie in bed (except on the back) without the glasses pressing uncomfortable in your face

mascara definitely will end up on the glasses and getting that cleaned is a nightmare

wearing hats, beanies, giant headphones and even facemasks can be extra annoying, because the arms of the frame will get in the way

you can get headaches from not wearing your glasses, from the pressure of the frame of the glasses and from wearing new and therefore glasses with a stronger prescription

small children love glasses, as soon as they can grab stuff, they will yank them off your face if you let them get close enough

kids will tease you about them, but after middle school it’s not really a thing anymore (mostly and as adults it’s really nothing special)

glasses have blind spots on the sides and top and bottom, so you sometimes have to move your head more

Tropes

Blind without glasses and dropped glasses

I actually only have sharp vision for a distance of 10 cm, which means I would not get home save if I had to cross a street to get to my building without glasses

but I very rarely lose my glasses

so, the trope of someone not being able to see without them is correct in some cases, but it’s definitely not hilarious and there are not often situations where they are just without glasses and fumbling around

Being smart

people wearing glasses can be just as dumb as everyone else

try not to make the only one wearing glasses be the smart kid

The Cure

often found in fantasy books, people will somehow get cured from needing glasses

getting some superpowers that eradicate their visual impairment and ‘fixing’ them

The Makeover scene

I love makeover scenes just like everybody else does

but: it’s not really cool to see the ‘ugly duckling’ suddenly becoming a beautiful swan by throwing away their glasses

and it’s impractical, if they just put them away and it was established that they can’t really see that well without them it’s just stupid to leave them at home

if they get new and cooler glasses, the person giving them to them would have needed to know their exact prescription, glasses are expensive and it takes time before they are ready

if they wear contact lenses from now on, they would also need to know the prescription and if they have never worn contact lenses before it will take some time to get used to putting them in and wearing them

Finally… please write characters with glasses. This sounds like a lot of hassle, but for most people it’s the most normal thing in the world. Studies show that soon half the world population will need glasses and I still didn’t really have a cool girl with glasses as a role model in literature when I grew up. It’s just another form of representation and I hope I can help you with this post to create some cool characters!

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee! 🥰

[glitter-stained]

I always feel like a little sad seeing posts about how Jason's character is inherently tragic and that's what makes it good, how him being unloved, a tragic consequence of his own actions, is inevitable, and how that shouldn't change because any change on that regard is a fundamental misunderstanding of his character. Yes, Under the Hood is a tragedy. Yes, Jason survived and for a long time people have been pretty confused at what to do with the character that survives the tragic ending. That doesn't mean he should continue to be trapped in the tragedy, that there's only value in him as long as he's unloved. And maybe that's me preaching and being a party pooper again but the idea that the teenage-to-young adult character with a mental illness that has damaged all his relationships is doomed to be lonely and have bad/upended relationships forever, that he's only good as a character as long as he's hurting others and/or himself (and usually both) and isolated because of this... It's sad, at the very least. I refuse the presumption that tragedies are the only stories wise and worth telling.

Also I personally really dislike the idea that Jason isn't and shouldn't be anyone's favourite, because he made himself nobody's favourite on purpose. Did he make himself a villain on purpose? Fuck yeah. Does any of his early attempts at reaching out to people hurt them? Indubitably. I maintain that this is because he wants to be someone's favourite as he is, at his worst, with his hands covered in blood. And I think he should be. (Without contradicting or damaging, by comparison, the relationships between other characters, that's the tightrope we need to be weary of when making such things, of course.)

It's like this: love, in most relationships, is conditional: you don't owe your friend or your partner to continue to love them if the relationship changes, if you change, if you become violent etc. If my girlfriend started murdering puppies, I would stop loving her. Ideally, however a parent's love for their child is unconditional. That's very often unfortunately not the case, but ideally it'd be, it's really not great for a kid to have zero parents that love them unconditionally. And most importantly, it's not just about actual unconditional love, it's about it being perceived. So it doesn't matter in the debate if Bruce actually loves Jason in spite of the murder, it matters that Jason asks for confirmation of it at the end of UTH and receives a negative answer. (similar arguments to be made about Catherine loving Jason and dying of drug overdose and Willis going to jail and dying - it's the potential perceived abandonment of it that would matter, not their agency and actual love. And it's not a question of whether he would be angry at it so much as that he'd yearn and hurt for it. And of course Sheila didn't love him at all.) That's why he, upon learning about Mia and reaching previously unknown to man levels of projection*, tries to rally her with the hope that, because she's "so similar to him" she would understand him. That's why upon learning about Dick "killing" Blockbuster Jason, again projecting more violently than a bullet, Jason makes Dick into his new favourite person (god, the concept behind BiB has so much potential why did it have to suck so bad...) Anyway, Jason to me is a character with a very intense, very overwhelming conception of love both in who he loves and how, who struggles to understand that other people love and show it differently, and it makes so much sense for him to keep looking for a person who will love him unconditionally (something that's both very rare and not necessarily healthy since, again, most relationships aside from parent-child relationships do not and probably should not include unconditional love). This is particularly interesting in the context of him having bpd (again, using bpd because i'm focusing on the interpersonal dimension that's been mostly studied within that frame) because BPD often functions around a vicious circle of "is afraid of rejection/abandonment -> does maladaptive behaviour in attempt to prevent rejection/abandonment OR protect oneself by being the one to leave first" which is what leads to the instability in relationships. It's a doomed prophecy: i have maladaptive patterns that make me think my girlfriend is gonna leave me at any time, I keep demanding to see her phone, assuming she's cheating everytime she leaves and thus demonizing her even though I was glorifying her five minutes earlier" then she's going to leave me, which is gonna reinforce my thought pattern that everyone always leaves me. But that also means that in rare instances in which the other person in the interact, for whichever reason, sticks around through that, then these incorrect thought patterns begin to change through the sheet logic of extinction: if i think that people always leave me because of something fundamentally wrong with me and people don't leave then eventually the idea that people are doomed to abandon/reject me is going to lose its power. That's, btw, an important part of why therapy works.

(*that one's a joke, btw. He's not projecting onto mia and dick to levels impossible to mankind, just pretty intensely. Very human levels of projection, might I add'. Just to clarify.)

Now, be mindful: I'm not saying make Jason an abusive boyfriend. I'm not saying put him in a relationship where the other stays because they're afraid of him, that's not unconditional love or acceptance that's just fear. Of course, the ideal version of it would be Jason goes to therapy but because dc hates me specifically this is never gonna happen, but imagine him being in a relationship, romantic or otherwise, with someone who is as intense and "unwell" about him as he is about them. I'm not saying it would fix him (again, get him so goddamn therapy jfc) but it would change him. And just as it doesn't have to be healthy it doesn't have to be tragic.

I was asked a while ago my thoughts on Jason's current stagnancy as a character and if I thought he could become interesting again, and I said yes and talked about the directions I dream would be explored with his character and their potential. My answer hasn't changed, and it's completely compatible with this, but I will add: I think Jason as a character has largely and for long enough been defined through his yearning to be somebody's favourite, and that if you want his mode of interacting with others and dynamic with different characters to change then this is a very logical way to do it. And it would make a lot of sense for it to be the catalyst for other changes in his character (ie in his name or philosophy).

Get that boy into a super intense long-term codependent situationship, is what I'm saying. Please.