#i’m glad you think of my acc as a safe space | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

myherowritings · 5 years ago

Text

The Language of Flowers

— “Hello may I request a Bakuogu x reader imagine, where […] Bakugou has a huge crush on her. She has a nature quirk and always gives him flowers (which he tuts at but acc loves lol) and one day they’re hanging out and she makes him a daisy chain and then a super cute confession happens? Thank you very much~” by anonymous.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warnings: swearing, cheesy flower symbolism

a/n: AH ANON THIS WAS A SUPER CUTE REQUEST i didn’t add in the kiri’s sister part bc i just couldn’t figure out how but i hope you still enjoy!! ;c

“What flowers did Y/L/N bring you today?”

“Don’t know or care.”

Kaminari snorted and Kirishima laughed disbelievingly from his seat against the foot of the bed. The three were in Bakugou’s room on a Friday night after class, and for the entirety of their walk to the dorms, he wouldn’t stop muttering curse words under his breath with the bouquet of flowers you made for him clutched between his hands.

“Right, you don’t care…” drawled Denki. “Which is why you’re putting the flowers she gave you in a vase right next to your bed?”

“Well, what the fuck else am I supposed to do with them?” he fumed, gently arranging the bundles of lilacs despite the deep scowl etched onto his face.

“I don’t know. Maybe toss them on your desk and call it a day? They’d wither up eventually, but you know Y/L/N could just produce some more to replace them.”

Bakugou glared at his dumbass of a friend. Toss them on his desk? Didn’t he know how cluttered and disorganized that would look? (Or how Katsuki would rather chew through glass than place the flowers you gave him in anything less than a clean vase? Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone…)

“I just put them in a stupid jar I found lying around– It’s not that deep, dumbass,” he scoffed.

Kaminari raised a brow as a cocky little grin formed on his face. “Sure.”

“Hey!” Kirishima popped in before Bakugou could send Sparky flying off the edge of his bed. “No matter the reason, I think it’s cool you keep Y/L/N’s flowers.”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes dubiously.

“You do?” voiced Denki.

He nodded. “It’s kind of manly when you think about it. Bakugou keeping the bouquets and learning the meanings of each flower just for Y/N–”

“I don’t learn their fucking meanings, dumbass!”

“Is that right?” Eijirou asked challengingly. “What do peonies stand for?”

Katsuki made an indignant noise. “Hell if I know.”

Kaminari raised his hand with an excited look. “I know! I know! It represents how much she wants you to smash the living daylights–”

“Watch your fucking mouth!” he hissed, hurling a pencil at him with full force, only for it to be stopped in the nick of time by Shitty Hair’s quirk. Bakugou glowered. “I’ve already told you before peonies symbolize a bashful yet compassionate love. Or can your two and a half brain cells not recall?”

His two friends–if they should even have the privilege of being called that–exchanged glances that made Bakugou want to kick them both out of his dorm room. Who the fuck let them come over in the first place?

A grin spread on Eijirou’s face, showing off his sharp teeth. “So she gave you the peonies to tell you she loves you but is too shy to say so herself?”

Katsuki’s face burned. “No! What the hell–?”

“Or maybe she’s saying she knows you love her but you’re too much of a pussy to say anything?” suggested Denki.

“First of all, fuck you. And that’s not it either, you dumbass!”

“Then what else could it mean?” he asked.

“That she liked peonies?” cried Bakugou incredulously. “Why are you asking me?! How should I know?”

Katsuki kept his fists clenched by his sides, seconds away from completely losing his temper at the two idiots in front of him.

Kirishima raised a brow. “You’re telling me you don’t care at all about the flowers Y/L/N gives you.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he lied through his teeth. He hated how he felt an uncomfortable pang in his heart as he said those words.

What the fuck was that? he thought, glaring down at his chest.

“Interesting,” Kirishima mused. “So, if I were to unlock your phone, I wouldn’t find tabs of ‘flower symbolism’ open on your browser?”

Kaminari grinned, looking over at the vase of purple flowers. “He probably searched up ‘the meaning of lavender’ and is currently reading through ten different flower blogs.”

Bakugou’s left eye twitched. “Lilacs.”

“What?”

“They’re lilacs you dumbass! Not lavender. Can’t you tell by the color?”

Denki blinked. “No?”

“Tch. Stupid,” he grumbled, rubbing a petal of the flower between his thumb and forefinger.

Lavender represented serenity and calmness– Dumb shit he didn’t care about. But lilacs were a different story.

Lilacs, specifically the light purple ones you gave him, symbolized first love. Love, happiness, passion… All those things reminded him of you. It was a thought so gentle it brought a strange feeling to his stomach, but he couldn’t say he hated it.

Bakugou stiffened. What the fuck was he thinking?

Shaking his head fervently, he forced himself out of his thoughts and turned to his two bumbling friends.

“…what do you think, Bakugou?” he heard Eijirou ask.

He scratched the back of his neck. “Think about what?”

Kirishima glanced at him curiously, noticing the uncharacteristic way Bakugou has been spacing out recently. “I said me, Kaminari, and Sero are going to the comic store tomorrow. You should join us.”

Katsuki internally cursed, knowing what he was about to say would bring along teasing that came with no end.

“I would,” he said carefully, “but I already have plans.”

“Oh, are you going home this weekend?” piped Denki.

“No.”

“Hero training?” asked Eijirou.

“No.”

“Are you banned from leaving campus grounds again–?”

“No!” Bakugou growled, rubbing his temples in slow circles. “For fuck’s safe, you two make my head hurt. I can’t go because I already made plans with someone else.”

Dumbass Number One gave him a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. “Someone else, huh?”

“And who is this someone else?” the blond-haired Dumbass Number Two questioned.

Kirishima nudged him with his elbow, causing Kaminari to nudge him back until the two were on the verge of wrestling on the floor of Bakugou’s dorm room.

Bakugou could only look back and forth between them and sigh. Dumbasses.

“He obviously means Y/L/N,” Eijirou said in a matter-of-fact tone, giving Katsuki a thumbs up. Katsuki responded with an eye roll. “He just didn’t want to say it because he likes to pretend his enormous crush on her isn’t obvious.”

“I don’t have a crush on Y/L/N,” he protested, folding his arms across his chest defensively.

“Right, and who exactly are you hanging out with tomorrow?” asked Denki.

“Listen– Just because I agreed to hang out with her doesn’t mean I like her!”

Kirishima hummed. “Sure. Have fun on your date tomorrow.”

Katsuki fumed. “It’s not a date!”

“Yeah, but you wish it were.”

With a final twitch of his eye and clenching of his jaw, Bakugou marched over to their seats on his floor, fingers flexing as the sweat that popped off his skin mad a sound so menacing his two idiot friends exchanged nervous glances with a visible swallow.

Laughing nervously, Denki shoved Eijirou in front of him for more time and made a dash towards the door.

“Have fun on your date!” Kirishima called, whacking Kaminari in the back of the head as he ran frantically away from a seething Katsuki.

“Use protection!” Denki warned, tripping over the carpet as he rubbed his sore neck, struggling to scurry away before Bakugou could lay hands on him. “Lots of protection!”

“I’LL MURDER YOU. BOTH OF YOU.”

- - - - -

In the end, Bakugou didn’t murder anyone.

If he had, Aizawa probably wouldn’t have let him leave campus grounds and he would’ve missed his not-date with you. (Not that he cared if he saw you or not. He just figured slaughtering the two idiots wouldn’t be worth a week of cleaning duty.)

“Thanks for coming with me, Bakugou-kun,” you thanked once more, picnic basket swinging in hand as you walked beside him.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s not like I had anything better to do.”

Just stop fucking talking, you asshole, he scolded, wanting to punch himself in the face.

But his words didn’t seem to phase you in the slightest. You were well aware of his blunt, harsh persona and yet you chose to stick around him anyway.

You laughed, brushing off his dismissive remark with a sideways smiles he couldn’t look away from. “Well, I’m glad you had nothing better to do then.”

“Pfft.”

By the time the two of you arrived at the nearby park, the sun was resting lazily atop the clouds, rays shining through as you found a spot in the shade for the picnic blanket. You finished setting up the food before getting comfortable, offering Bakugou a sandwich as he took a seat next to you.

“Thanks,” he said, awkwardly taking a bite as he tried to think of what to say.

“No problem,” you replied, clearing your throat as the silence settled between you. “Did you like the flowers I gave you yesterday? They’re one of my favorites!”

Bakugou snorted. “You say that about every flower.”

“Because every flower deserves to be loved!”

Although he scoffed externally, on the inside he couldn’t help but feel a begrudging flutter at your words. It just wasn’t possible for someone to have such a kind heart– There must’ve been some catch.

“The lilacs were fine. Thanks,” he mumbled under his breath, uprooting a strand of grass as he rested his palms behind him.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous. Katsuki had hung around you plenty of times, but something about this moment sent his nerves on edge.

You beamed, a smile so bright it was capable of disarming all his defenses. “I’m happy you liked them! And you knew they were lilacs? I’m impressed. Most people would mistake them for lavender.”

Bakugou thought back to his certified dumb blond friend and scoffed at the memory. “Tch. Only idiots would mistake a pale purple lilac for lavender.”

With a teasing giggle at the somber frown on his face, you nodded. “Right. It definitely didn’t take me months to learn the difference, or anything.” You nudged his shoulder with your own at the sight of his wide-eyed expression. “Maybe you’re just a natural-born flower expert.”

He bristled. “Don’t call me that.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that,” you protested, folding your arms across your chest at his indignant tone. “I think it’s cool. Besides, flowers are amazing!”

“They’re whatever.”

Katsuki shrugged dismissively as he tried to ignore the knowing look on your face.

“Come on, Bakugou-kun. It’s me,” you said, poking his arm with your index finger. (If it were anyone else, he would’ve shoved them off. But since it was you… He sighed.) “You can admit that you like flowers. I won’t judge.”

“Hmph.”

You pouted, lip jutting out in a small frown. “At least tell me what your favorite flower is.”

He thought about it for a while. “I don’t have one.”

“You have to have one!”

“Don’t you have like 50 because you can’t choose just one?!” asked Bakugou incredulously.

“Yes, but… I have one flower that I love slightly more than the rest,” you said conspiratorially, tapping the bottom of your chin.

Crawling over to the edge of the picnic blanket, you held your hands about the fertile soil and sprouted bundles of white-petaled flowers with yellow centers.

“Daisies?” he guessed.

You nodded in excitement. “Yes! See, I told you– Flower expert!”

Katsuki fought the blush off his cheeks. “It’s just common knowledge.”

It most definitely was not because he spent hours researching all the different types of flowers after the first week of you constantly giving them to him.

“Sure.” You grinned. “I love daisies for a lot of reasons, but one of the reasons is because they make the prettiest flower chains.”

His brows furrowed. “Flower chain?”

You turned towards him with a disbelieving look on your face. “You’ve never made a flower chain?”

“Never even heard of it.”

Your eyes looked as if they were about to bulge out of their sockets as your held your hand above your chest. “My… My heart is hurting.”

Bakugou dismissed your over-exaggeration with a tsk, but felt the corners of his lips quirking upwards nonetheless. Glancing down at the cluster of white daisies you had just sprouted, you took one between your thumb and index finger and pinched it at the stem.

“Can I show you how?” you asked with a hopeful expression.

He blinked in surprise but managed a shrug. “I guess.”

“Great!” you cheered. You beckoned him over to the spot beside you as you kneeled against the soft bed of grass. Gently plucking a bundle of flowers you had just sprouted, you handed them to him. “There are lots of different ways to make a daisy chain, but I think the braiding method is the best.”

Bakugou wasn’t sure how the fuck there could’ve been different methods for sticking flowers together, but he nodded despite himself. “You can show me that one then.”

Moving closer next to him, you held three daisies in one hand and showed him how to braid–one strand over the other. As you went down the stem, you slowly added more and more flowers to the chain, twisting as it began to curve into a circle.

“Am I doing this right?” he asked gruffly, looking between your chain and his with a slight frown. His was sparse with some areas looking like they were about to fall apart.

Taking in the condition of his flowers, you stifled a laugh. “Looks fine to me.”

“Hmph.”

After a few minutes of grumbles and complaints, Bakugou slowly got the hang of making the daisy chain. In a way, the repetitive movements were sort of relaxing.

You were seated beside him, so close your thigh was brushing against his and he struggled to remain focused on the task at hand.

“Did you know daisies are actually a mix of two flowers?” you said, drawing his attention even more towards you. “The yellow centers are disc florets and the white petals are ray florets.”

He peered closer at the head of the flower in between his fingers, examining the small floral discs that made up the yellow center.

“That’s why, in flower language, white daisies are known to symbolize true love,” you told him. Katsuki looked over at you to find a small smile on your face as you finished up the last of your daisy chain. “It’s the joining together of two different types of flowers, and they fit perfectly. One wouldn’t be the same without the other.”

Your gaze flitted to his as a flush filled his cheeks at your intimate words, and for once in his life, he was at a complete loss for words.

There was a slight twinkle in your eye as you stared with your lips slightly parted. The tension in the air grew when neither of you wanted to look away first in fear of ruining this moment. The setting of the sun cast gentle shadows of your eyelashes and cheekbones and Katsuki was completely annoyed but how disarming your smile in the sunset was.

Clearing his throat, he glared down at the floor as you bit your lip, toying with the petals of the daisy in your lap.

“Ahem– Um, well…” you trailed off, opening and shutting your mouth as you tried to form your thoughts into a sentence. “I made this for you!”

Fumbling with the daisy chain in your hands, you extended your arms out, offering the flower crown to him with your head bowed. His eyes widened in alarm as you waited for him to take the gift.

“W-What are you doing, baka?! You don’t need to bow!” he cried, an intense blush making its way to his cheeks as you peered up at him through your lashes.

“But I wanted to give this to you.”

“You don’t have to give it like that!”

You huffed, puffing your cheeks out in an embarrassed pout. “Do you not want it?”

“I never said that–! But even if I did, it’s not like it never stopped you before,” Katsuki said defensively, muttering an oath under his breath when he felt even the tips of his ears heat up at your actions.

Fighting the flushed expression off your face, you chewed the inside of your cheek. You withdrew your extended arms, hugging the daisies close to your chest as you absentmindedly stroked a white petal.

“Do you want me to stop?” you blurted, your voice quiet.

He looked taken aback. “What?”

You avoided his questioning stare as you continued, “I like giving you all these flowers because the look on your face for the fraction of a second you let your guard down is something I always want to see–” Katsuki’s palms grew sweaty as he felt his temperature rise to inhuman heights. “But, if it annoys you and you want me to stop… I will.”

Bakugou glared down at his lap, unsure where the hell your thought came from or how the fuck he should reply. He didn’t want you to stop– He thought that much was clear.

“Tch.” He shook his head, mumbling under his breath. “Baka.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry?”

He looked up at you, meeting your confused gaze with his intense one. “If you were annoying me, I would’ve told you. I don’t– I don’t mind you giving me all these…dumb flowers.”

Tilting your head to the side, you asked cautiously, “So you like them?”

The most Katsuki could bring himself to do was shrug, but it was enough for you to understand the true meaning he couldn’t bring himself to admit. Slowly, a grin lit up your face as you nudged his side.

“Well, good. Because they like you, too.”

The smile you gave him made it clear there was something more behind your words as well. He glared, flustered. “We’re talking about the stupid flowers, right?”

“Of course,” you said with an all too innocent nod. “What else could we be talking about?”

The two of you shared a knowing smile before he rolled his eyes, taking the daisy chain in your hands and placing them on his head. It felt weird and awkward, but he figured he could put up with it for you. As you stared at him, a weird expression dawn on your face that made him frown in embarrassment.

“What are you looking at, baka?”

You hid the secretive smirk on your face behind your hands. “You. You look cute in that.”

“Yeah… Whatever,” he scoffed, despite the warmth spread in his chest.

And by the time the not-date came to an end, Katsuki wasn’t sure how the two of you ended up walking back to the dorms, smiling dazedly as you walked hand-in-hand. All he knew was, one day, he wanted to be the one to bring you flowers.

a/n: okay honestly i just want bakugou to fall in love so we can see this tsundere but also soft and sweet side of him ahhh i would die. anyway, this was very cheesy hehe but i hope it made you smile! xx sofia

4K notes · View notes

clare-with-no-i · 3 years ago

Note

the happiest of birthday’s to you!!! i hope your day is filled with endless joy and delight <3

will attempt to keep this short but it’s a wonderful thing to have you in the jily fandom, your never-ending kindness and welcomingness (that’s def not a word but let’s work with it cause i’m too lazy to find the actual word i’m thinking of) towards everyone just makes your acc such a safe space. i hope you know just how delighted i am to have the privilege of reading your works bc they truly are unfuckingmatched. sending you the biggest of hugs today!! <3

you constantly just kill me!! with these messages!!!!!!!!! miss emerqldv I cannot even begin to tell you how much your asks and just general presence means to me.

thank you so so much! this is so lovely, and I'm so glad my blog feels like such a space <3 that is the best thing ever!!! UGH this is just so lovely I don't even know what to say!!

#ask #emerqldv #MMWWWAAHHHH #<33333 #bd #so much love

3 notes · View notes

lillupon · 4 years ago

Note

hey just wanna say thank you coz this tumblr acc of yours is like a safe space for minwon stans hahaha you know we could let out our thoughts and say some stuffs abt minwon,,, and it's so soft how we have like a little community here bcos of aev (-: thank u for that! i cant believe that aev is nearing to its end )-: i will really miss these two so muchieee i've never been attached to some character or fics b4 but this is different hahaha thank u <3 🥺

I'm glad my blog can be a space where we can all come together and squeak about minwon! Definitely didn't expect this to happen when I first started posting AEV, so it has been a pleasant surprise.

I was just thinking the other day that AEV will be coming to an end soon 😞 I remember thinking that it was going to take forever to post all the chapters, and now there's not too much left to go. I don't know how to feel 😣

#asks

1 note · View note

officialojiroaran · 4 years ago

Note

Hi ummm I think i just need to type this so honestly, feel free to delete. Ummm... but I’m reallly going through it right now .

My best friend and roommate was recently a victim of.... police brutality.. not that anyone is calling it that. He was arrested on his way home for walking home. He’s black and that’s the reason why I had to bail him out today.

He doesn’t trust anyone else, so he’s hiding out at home so as not to “worry his friends and family”. He literally probably only told me cos he needed me to cover his bail. And I’m trying not to make it about me, and be there for him. But I don’t know how to be there for him and I am so worried about him all the time now. As much as I’ve always worried, i always was stupidly hopeful enough to believe that it wouldn’t happen to him, or happen in our neighborhood, or something. i don’t know.

And I know he probably is used to feeling this scared and I know this is my privilege speaking which is why I’m trying not to bother him with it, but I am so tempted to just hug him every time he comes home or before he leaves and I’m always so worried. I don’t know how people deal with this.

I’ve always supported BLM and tried to be understanding, but it is so much scarier when you see it happen.

I’m so sorry if this bothers you I just don’t want to expose his story without his permission to the people actively in my life and your acc is really a safe space♥️.

thank you for letting me vent a bit. It’s really hard and scary.

tw: police brutality, racial profiling

oh, doll. i know it’s hard. it’s hard when the truth comes falling at your feet and crashing into pieces. i’m only privileged ‘cause my parents moved here to japan from new orleans so i can only imagine what my own black siblings are going through in such nasty countries. there’s only so much anyone can do. i’ve heard horror stories from my own cousins and family members back in america.

racial profiling should be a crime in and within itself. i’ve experienced my own share growin’ up here in japan. being black in a predominantly conservative asian country has it’s own downfalls. people would try to touch my hair, blatantly stare, and all’a that. i’d get stopped for weaponry checks, taken to the police station for ‘the safety of the country’ and all that bull. the first few times it made me angry but now i’m nothin’ but upset and exhausted, if not numb.

i hope you’re feelin’ a little better now. i’m honoured and glad that this is a safe space for ya. i can only hope that that’s what i’m achieving every day. it will take some time to process all of this. i hope you and your friend are both healin’ good and proper.

#tw police brutality #tw racial profiling

1 note · View note

boogaloomagoo · 5 years ago

Text

Whiskey Lullaby | Nic & Margot

We laid her next to him beneath the willow While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby

This was a bad idea. This was a genuinely foolish, poorly thought out, half-baked idea that was going to get her killed. Why had she even thought this was something she should suggest carrying out in the first place?! Margot was practically pacing a hole into the motel sidewalk, in her human form for the time being but still making certain that she was in a fairly cornered, darkened area. God, she really fucked it up this time, didn't she? Sure, I'll be your bodyguard for a potential clan of werewolves that will come for blood! TOTALLY rational and doable! What the actual fuck!? Granted, she thought she could take on two of them by herself - she had in the past. But more than that, any more than that, or an unanticipated factor being thrown into the mix, and she was utterly screwed. Well, then again, it wasn't as though she would be fighting them off alone. The guy -- Nicodemus, right -- he seemed more than capable of handling himself. If worse came down to it, they could tag-team and potentially come out with few scars. Hopefully. Groaning in her throat, the blonde finally rounded a corner before coming face to face with a door. Yeah, this was his. He'd given her the number earlier. So, all she had to do was... Swallowing thickly, she raised a fist and, after hesitating with it mid-air, rapped on the door three times.

Nicodemus felt good about himself and that should have been the first warning sign: he never felt good about himself. Existence was simply there and he was a blood-meat vessel inside of it, chugging along. But with the bottle of the American Honey that Blanche sent him, he felt decent. He hummed. He decided early on once his mouth started tingling and his fingers felt warm that he should stop sharpening his knives. Safety first, for whatever the fuck that even mattered. Somewhere outside, he knew Margot was wandering about. That went beyond his understanding, her willingness to suddenly protect him at all costs. He didn’t get it and the more he thought about it, the more his brow creased and the humming in his throat cracked. At least she hadn’t called him a hero. He would’ve lost it right then and there. Found another hopeless tree to splinter and shatter until the destruction felt good. For now, with whiskey in him, he could allow that to be what made him feel good. Small allowances. His own humming distracted him from the knocking until he heard the final one. The whiskey was doing its job at blocking things out, it seemed. Grabbing a flannel shirt to throw on from his kaleidoscope box of them, he forego buttoning it as he peered through the eye-hole. Speak of the bear. He unslipped the lock and opened the door wide, a lazy, baby-sized smile on his face. “Evenin’ Gold. Slow night out there?”

The seconds that ticked by following her initial knock seemed to roll by in slow motion, as if time had slowed after the action itself had been carried out. Or perhaps that was how Margot's mind simply perceived it - caution coiling in every taught muscle, anxiety mounting like a shadowy figure looming behind her, fingers digging so tight into her bare upper arms so as to create the indents of very angry, equally anxious little moons in the pale skin. When her ears caught onto the muffled sound of a lock being undone, she attempted to straighten her posture from it's already ramrod state, jutting her chin out slightly and placing both hands on her hips - all in order to present an image of self-assurance and confidence instead of the frightened child muttering to herself about getting in trouble that lay just below the surface. When the door finally revealed her charge, however, her shoulders slumped a bit, brow furrowed lightly in mild confusion. He was... smiling? Okay, that was definitely a shift from the negative shifts of his lips about a week ago. Not that it didn't look nice on him, but -- why? "It... I guess you could, uh, say that..." And what was-- Gold? Something - displeasure, familiarity, a simple passing sensation - something clenched within Margot's gut upon hearing the nickname. Her eyes shifted to glance into what little of his room she could view, and the glint of something caught her eye - a bottle? Or two? Soon enough she was leaning in a bit to give a tentative sniff of the air around him. The scent of whiskey; faint, but unmistakable. That explained just about everything. The blonde could feel the corner of her mouth lift up in a partially amused smirk. "I'm guessing you're having a fairly good night so far?"

The hunter blinked languidly at the bugbear. His mouth felt dry and his tongue traced around his bottom lip as he sent a cursory glance to either side of the door. Nicodemus didn’t particularly care what it might’ve looked like to some shitty voyeur. Didn’t particularly care for much, regardless. But a care was still there somewhere. He returned to look at Margot, back straight and her posture screaming professionalism. All she needed was a badge and uniform, then she’d look ever the part. ‘Do you know how fast you were going?’ A low laugh started in his chest and he fought to keep it down, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. Damn, his cheeks felt warm and he bit his lip to draw the blood somewhere else. He hated that he was one of those blushy drinkers. “I don’t think there’s any wolves in the room,” he said, eyes casting up and to the right as he thought. He placed his hand low on his hip once more. She was smirking at him and dark brows rose when his eyes fell on her again. “Goin’ well so far, yeah. I’m enjoyin’ the fruits of my labor.” With his upper body turned, he gestured to the bottles of Wild Turkey American Honey. God bless Blanche Harlow and her fake ID. “At least I ain’t doin’ it dead ass in the middle of the woods somewhere. Then you’d really have your work cut out for you, huh?” He was talking a lot and not drinking enough, but now he had a guest and his expression brightened by a fraction. Southern hospitality and the need to pour himself another shot kept him locked between her and the doorway. “You allowed to drink on the job, Gold? Plenty for two.”

Blue eyes watched his facial expressions shift with a silent curiosity. Alcohol had such an intriguing effect on people - some could be swayed into a flurry of anger, others drowning in their sorrows the deeper they sank into a bottle. And then there were those whose spirits seemed to lift with each shot, higher and higher until they were floating happily on a cloud that nobody else but themselves could see. Where the hard lines were akin to rusted-gears that had seemed to ground out each furrow of his brow and every frown, there was now a smoothness, an ease with which his features rose and fell. He was definitely in a better mood than the night they met - although, Margot could argue that from their conversation online, he didn't exactly seem to be a person whose dander was always up. But to see him so obviously relaxed, possibly even, dare she say - bordering on a giggly drunk? "Yeah, I definitely would not recommend that. I'd hate to have someone catch a bear hauling a boozy guy back to his hotel room. Not that I'd mind," Or would she? Should she? There was far too much effort tacked onto that particular train of thought, and so Margot decided to focus on his offer instead. She quirked her mouth to the side, glancing over her shoulder as though someone of import might be watching their exchange. "I..." She hesitated for another beat before releasing the grip on her hips, nodding fervently. "Sure. Why not? It is a pretty slow night, after all," She noted with a small, appreciative smile up towards him.

He watched her thoughts cross over her face, a thoughtfulness to it that he wasn’t expecting. He had expected her to leave, go back to whatever post she had picked and leave him by himself. But she hadn’t and she was engaging with him. A lot of people were talking to him a lot more lately and Nicodemus didn’t know how to process it, like a kernel that wouldn’t come out of the garbage disposal. Kept clacking around in his head and confusing him. “Well, cher, you did say you were a big ass bear,” he said with a slow smirk of his own, his words heavy with Cajun drawl. “That sounds like somethin’ a big ass bear wouldn’t have a hard time doin’.” His fingers lightly tapped at the door frame as she considered his offer. Again, he’d expected a no. A quick getaway and a shrug, that was it. But then she was nodding at him and he fought hard to keep his mouth from parting in shock. Oh, she had agreed. What the fuck? Right, alright. He offered, she accepted. A smile shifted his shock away. Sometimes shit didn’t always go the wrong way and while he could barely grasp on that watery concept, droplets still remained on his fingertips. It took him a minute that felt like an hour before he cleared his throat and returned her nod with a slow, deliberate one of his own. He stepped back to the side and gave her space to enter. He wasn’t a particularly messy individual and he was glad that sober Nicodemus had bothered to put the knives and guns away in safe places. Very little in the room said much about him, aside from the snowglobes, whiskey bottles, and the half-read copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. His thumb traced the pulse in his neck. “Help yourself. Honey whiskey alright? Ain’t just askin’ because you’re a...” His voice lowered thoughtfully as he closed the door, a secretive smile tweaking the corners of his lips. “Y’know.”

Oh. Right. She had... actually referred to herself as that in their online conversation. Another effort to prove herself hardy enough to take on the task of being a competent guardian for him. Right. Sometimes, Margot truly did wonder why she chose certain phrases, but in reality most of them were taken from either television or what she'd heard other people around her age utilize. It just seemed like an accurate depiction at the time. "Exactly, totally what I am. So, not out of the realm of possibility at all," Was he all that surprised that she had accepted his offer? Perhaps. It wasn't as though either of them came off as particularly social, which actually worked a bit in her favor. He didn't seem the type to pry, and Margot wasn't fond of those who did. So far, everything was playing out smoothly. Stepping past the threshold into his room, her gaze idly found itself lingering on his frame for a moment, noting the unbuttoned flannel with a bit of familiarity. She herself had a cornucopia of them, varying patterns and makes, due to the functionality and comfort factors. Flannel was a good thing. Next she focused on the interior of the small room, hands once again finding purchase grasped onto her arms in front of her chest - a protective sort of stance, but not exactly defensive. Not at the moment. Oh, wow, had he really just...? A prompt snort flew past her lips, head tilted back to regard him with a quizzical yet amused expression. "I'm more of a berry girl, if we're being honest. But honey'll do just fine," Her own lips curved up of their own accord, arms lowered to hang a bit more loosely; guard slowly lowering. "Or was that a blonde reference? Goldilocks? Barbie? Hell, I could go on all night.”

Nicodemus held his hands up in mock surrender. "Won't catch me sayin' different." Fuck, it felt so strange to invite someone in. The smile and the heat up in his neck, living in his cheeks, were well and truly alive. But there was a cold in him that burned hotter than any fire that liquor could start. Frigid and near-death since before he knew what death meant. Loneliness is a shield, solitude is a weapon. If any of you isn't made of steel or iron, what use is it? Softness served nothing except the dead. It didn't serve him. Yet he clicked the door shut behind him, grabbed one of the plastic hotel cups, and started to pour honey into ice. "Nothin' pretty. In fact, it started lookin' cleaner after I got here." Fill the emptiness with noise. He took a sip and felt better. Did she just snort? Yup, he was feeling good again. Smiled at her as he offered her a clean cup. "Guess we're just gonna have to compromise then, huh?" The flush was there again and he moved away, occupied himself with the small gathering of things on his table. It didn't do well to idle. Too much could happen if he did. At her question, he turned back to look at Margot. "Your hair, uh, it's like gold. Honey gold. Whatever. Y'know what I mean. Don't think they have bugbear Barbie yet. " He shook his head and rubbed at the back of it. Tugged at the back of his flannel shirt. "Y'want ice?"

"Good," Margot fixed with a stern gaze void of any actual seriousness, the upturn of her lips giving that away quite easily. The step that she had taken, both physically and metaphorically, entering a portion of his life by going into his hotel room, was beginning to feel less daunting the more she took in the surroundings. They weren't unfamiliar; she and her father had stayed at the Traveler's when they initially arrived in town. And she could clearly recall not wishing to linger here any longer than they had to. Now, however, in a room that was obviously being more lived in compared to a one-night stay, there was a sort of... coziness, that couldn't be denied. Indeed it looked a lot cleaner than their room, a soft hum of approval at the insinuation. "I don't doubt that. I seriously didn't see one maid the couple nights I stayed here," Pale fingers rose to take the cup from him with a gentle thanks, glancing down into the contents before taking a sip. She couldn't help but shiver, face puckering as the sting rode it's way down her throat. And then he was mentioning her hair again and, in favor of focusing on his last question, she took a step towards him. "Do I know? Never had anyone call it honey gold before," She then tilted her head, allowing the loose waves to cascade a bit with the motion. She wouldn't deny it - Nicodemus intrigued her. All new people did, but based on how they had met, he could definitely be classified as a special case.

“I’ve got a running theory that the place is run by vamps and ghosts,” Nicodemus said, a slight conspiratorial edge to his tone. “I haven’t seen a soul since I got here.” He looked at her curiously. He knew little to nothing about her, but that was changing. She knew French, liked Secret of Nimh for some fucking reason, had her own little shack in the woods, and had stayed in the Traveler’s Rest as well. Whether or not that last one established some sort of camaraderie, he wasn’t sure. Staying at the place felt like passing through a certain veil into a next world. Or that was just the effect the town had on his head, let alone the whiskey. The whiskey that had her face puckering and he let out a little laugh. “Sure as shit ain’t berry, is it?” He wondered what the berry stuff she liked was and if it would be worth trying one day. That thought was short-lived. His brows pinched together as she stepped closer to him and he tipped his head back slightly to look down at her. Did she just shake her hair at him? The image of a bear once towering over him, fur splitting into gold, rooted him in place. A sip of his whiskey followed before he answered, his gaze holding hers. “”Spose you don’t,” he rumbled out with the slightest lift in his shoulders. “Probably haven’t had to play bodyguard for anyone either. Off to one hell of a start in a series of firsts, huh?” He smiled, his teeth making a rare appearance before they were gone just as quick. The hunter held the tip of his tongue between his canines. “Guessin’ that’s a no to the ice.” A step back and the space between them widened as he took a seat at the rickety table he tried to balance out with the bible from the nightstand. “Sure I’ve got some cards around here or somethin’...”

Ghosts were a concept she could readily agree with. They meandered the woods a great portion of the time, and in her bugbear form were not only visible, but could be interacted with as well. Some didn't care to pay Margot any attention, but there were those who would talk for hours, even when she couldn't technically communicate back. But they still remained a good company for the most part. Vampires, however - vamps - Margot couldn't help but seal her lips to contain the mounting laughter rising up her throat. Once she was certain she had a decent grasp on herself, she nodded, albeit a bit reluctant to admit that was the reason for not seeing anyone around. "Could be? Not that the ghosts I've met make it a habit of running motels, but, maybe that's a side-job they don't talk about," Observing Nicodemus, Margot came to the assumption that he likely had a 'running theory' about quite a lot that went on in White Crest. He didn't seem the type to be overly paranoid, maybe a healthy dosage like she herself possessed. Or was she attempting to find similarities that simply weren't there? Either way, she had gotten him to laugh, even if at a bit of her own expense - that was progress. She shook her head, lips smacking as the taste lingering on her tongue and a shiver ran through her frame. "Nope! Not even close... But this is good, too. Put's hair on your chest," Her palm thumped atop her own as if to prove the point, letting out a minor cough. Ah, there was that contemplative look, directed solely on her. She never felt the urge to wither beneath it, like when most men of his stature and demeanor would gaze at her. Then again, it was fairly obvious to her that Nicodemus didn't fit into the category of 'most men' at this juncture. "Not by choice, no. There were times, but... yeah, this is new. I don't regret it, though," She felt the need to tack that last part on quickly, fingers clenched a little tighter around the cup. When he distanced himself, she took a moment to wade through a thickness that felt far too similar to loss, and quickly tipped the remnants of her drink down her throat. Oof, that burned something fierce. Gasping out a rough exhale, she shook her head and followed after him - not sitting, but standing just a few feet across from where he rested. "If not, we could always play Never Have I Ever. I've heard it's a good game when you wanna get to know people," And I'd like to get to know you.

Nicodemus rubbed a hand over his bare jaw before he tapped at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Know many ghosts, huh?” Somewhere in him, beyond the steadily increasing tide of honey liquor, he recalled that bears and ghosts were familiar with each other. But it was a surface-level understanding. It was enough of one to get by with, enough of one to act on whenever the time and the money called for it. In his hotel room, with the air conditioner set to comfortably cool, time and money had little to do with him or Margot. “Don’t recall ever meetin’ one, so I ain’t puttin’ off ghost motel just yet,” he said offhandedly, a slim assured smile present. If he kept running theories, checking numbers, he wouldn’t get lost in thought. Getting lost in his head was a dangerous road to stumble on. It would lead him deeper into territory unknown, territory like not allowing death to come for a bugbear. He wondered what that meant for him. He didn’t believe in fate and nothing believed in him, yet...He looked at her. There it was, getting lost in thought. The hunter looked into his plastic whiskey glass like both an epiphany and an epilogue. It brought him back and he glanced up at her. Up at her because she was still standing. The familiarity of the moment wasn’t lost on him and for a breath of time, he just looked up at her. How the hell did either of them get there? What made him worth protecting and what made her worth saving? Thoughts and considerations so rusted in his head that they ground together like teeth in a restless sleep. And then he smirked. “Not regrettin’ it too much either. Y’know you can sit,” he said with a laugh like the hum of an engine. A machine loosened by the liquor in his gears, in his head. He slid his hand across the table to tap at the open spot across from him. “I won’t bite you or nothin’.” She wasn’t kidding when she said she preferred something smoother like berries. Even then, she still humored the heat he offered and that was a perplexing thought. Never Have I Ever. Reflexively, like blocking a hit, he sat up a touch straighter and loosely folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve never heard of that one,” he admitted but didn’t rebuff. He was curious. Slowly, he nodded. “How does it help you get to know people?”

"A few. Definitely way more here in White Crest," Which was saying something when you took into account that the world was literally teeming with ghosts to those who held the ability to see and interact with them. "They, uh, they're pretty conversational. Which kinda sucks because the most I can do is grunt and nod along to what they're saying," A bemused smile flitted across Margot's lips at the memories of her walks alongside those numerous spirits, and she nursed her bottom lip gently. "I could always shift and see where they hang out. Tell you which spots to avoid or, y'know, where they hide all the soaps and shampoos," A sly wink turned in his direction, peach-toned lips curving into a mischievous smile. She could certainly find plenty of ways to benefit him if she so chose to - the real question was why would she?

Did all of this stem from the fact that he had saved her? It seemed the only plausible explanation, mainly due to the fact that aside from her father and... well, nobody else had. Not in such a dire situation, where most others would have simply turned away and let nature run it's course. And then in a blur of screams and growls and blood and fur and torn flesh - he was there. She was growing uncomfortable with musing on the why's and the how's, though, because it never stopped at face value for her. She could tear away into the depths of people's motives, whether she needed to or not, and the possibilities, the never knowing, haunted her more than she could ever express. So, she wouldn't dwell. Now, she would sip at her whiskey, slide into the seat offered to her, settle back and regard Nicodemus as he simply was in the moment - a person. Though her brows arched in mild surprise at his next assurance. "Well, that's good to know. 'Cause I definitely bite back," She paused, then immediately chuckled, low and hearty, fingers loosely splayed in front of her lips. Whoa, where had that come from? Was it too forward? Fuck it - they were drinking whiskey in his motel room. Fuck verbal caution.

"Okay, so, it's basically a drinking game. One of us says something we've never done before. But if you have done it, you drink. And we go back and forth, yadda yadda, and in the end one or both of us just get entirely shit-faced. Sounds fun, right?" She had leaned forward a bit in her explanation, front row of teeth gleaming as she beamed at him, before motioning to her cup with a small quirk of her brows. "Gonna need a filler, though." Ghosts didn’t make any sense to him. A controversial thought considering what Nicodemus did for a living. People died and that was it. It didn’t pay to believe in anything that came after. He didn’t have anything to tether him to the world. Why Margot would smile about ghosts, he wasn’t sure, but she seemed...happy about it. Not that he was someone that could recognize happiness unless it pressed against the back of his eyes with a knife edge. But she looked happy about it and he got caught up in that thought, wound up tight that he didn’t speak for a long moment. “I don’t know about your bodyguard duties dipping into incorporeal territory, Gold,” he finally said with a raspy laugh. “But if I start feelin’ haunted, I’ll let you know.”

The pad of his thumb rubbed blindly against his fingers as he alternated them. A slow circle before he moved onto the next. The rest of him was motionless, yet some part of him always needed to be in motion. Perhaps that was why he hardly slept. He wouldn’t blame it on anything else, like a sudden resurgence of conscience or deep thought. ’Cause I definitely bite back. The hum in his throat caught and he threw back the rest of his drink to chase down any thought that was surging up. “Jesus fuck,” he coughed out as he adjusted in his sea to close the centermost button of his flannel shirt. He felt like fire, like burning itself. “Went down the wrong pipe, boy howdy.”

The hunter offered Margot a dry smirk, looking between her eyes and her hair. The latter, an odd object of fixation that he felt far more comfortable attributing to the drink in him than anything else. A drink that he needed more of. “Alright, I think I got the gist of it,” he said with a nod as he unscrewed the bottle and topped himself off. The hunter’s eyes focused on her cup as he leaned forward, his fingers on hers for a brief moment as he held her cup and filled it just the same as his. “Guess I’ll start?” He asked as he sat back, lifting his eyes to look at her. “Never have I ever...sang drunk karaoke.”

"Then you should've gotten the silver package. Comes with a guarantee of protection against 'Ghosts and Ghoulies' of all kinds. It's not too late to add it on, either. Just two easy payments of diner turkey clubs," Mmm, did she love those sandwiches. Then again, there wasn't much in the food department that she couldn't rightfully stand. But what surprised her more than the fact that he was willing to pay her in food was how... open, she currently felt. Not 'open' in the sense that Margot would be willing to spill every secret about herself to an... acquaintance? No, it was the much safer kind, the one that would ramble on about being a flannel aficionado and lover of all movies with Madeline Kahn.

Maybe it was the whiskey. The burn had filtered out after her last drink, leaving a pleasant warmth to reside in her limbs and belly and head. That familiar sensation of being grounded yet floating at the same time encompassed her entirely, and every time he would look her way, there was always a trace of a smile playing on her lips. Even when he seemed to choke on his own gulp, and she made a 'Pffft!' sound before covering her mouth with widened eyes. "Oh cripes, are you... yeah, you're fine, you're fiiine," Her momentary worry formed and dissipated in the same blink of an eye, hers finding themselves lingering on the fingers buttoning his shirt before shifting to her cup.

Then he was filling her cup, which apparently meant that his large fingers find purchase around her slim ones. The digits didn't tense, for once, instead focused on the sensation, savoring it for a later memory that might mean something or nothing at all. This time there wasn't a coldness to his retreat, just a tingle along the skin as she raised the cup slightly, already prepped to take a sip. And down it went with his first Never, the corners of her mouth raised high in fond recollection. "It was the summer of 2013," She began after lowering the drink, tongue prodding the corner of her mouth, "My dad and I had literally just... stopped at this bar after our shift - we worked at the same welding factory, then - and it just so happened to be Karaoke night. We were a couple beers in since we lived within walking distance of our place, and, I kinda gave my dad this look... I had to drag him on stage, but, eventually we got up there and belted out Queen. God, I wish I had a camera for it, we. Were. Amazing," Margot chuckled at the memory, before righting herself in the chair and clearing her throat. "Okay, okay. Never have I ever... gotten so drunk I blacked out."

“Oh, now I gotta upgrade? I think you’re startin’ to swindle me here, Gold,” Nicodemus huffed, his shoulders shaking with the quiet laugh. With the liquor burning in him, it felt alright to laugh. It almost felt alright to live. With the fire in him, he wasn’t as much of a rundown cathedral of fallacies. Lost to time, lost to decay. Mossgrown and tired. His skin felt alive under his own fingers, pads tracing lines and faint scars across his palm. “Here I thought you were just wantin’ to put that you donated to charity on your tax forms by bein’ here.“ His laughter continued in spite of his own self-degradation. He was untouchable. He was damn near as open as a church on Sunday, yet one door still remained closed.

He swallowed down the irritation of his throat and chose to numb it with more whiskey. That was how it worked. That was how it always worked, didn’t it? “It ain’t gonna be this that kills me.” He half-assedly raised his plastic glass like a false king. A king of nothing, not even the lone inheritance to the Bossier name, and there was freedom in that. As small as it was, considering the way he willingly bound himself to the life of hunting. The Bossier name meant little, but he took pride in what he did. He looked at her. It wouldn’t be the booze that killed him. Maybe it would be letting someone in. He passed that thought over and leaned in.

Margot was a great storyteller. Far better than he was. She didn’t stumble over her words quite like he did, or answer in minute grunts when someone laid their life out for him. There was a liveliness to the way she spoke that kept him focused entirely on her, his fingers no longer swirling and his heel no longer bouncing. She spoke of her father with such fondness that he almost felt that ugly green creep up. He didn’t know his dad and considering the way he fucked off to nowhere, it didn’t matter. But her story did and he smiled down at the table when she finished, his hand against his neck as he learned. At her next Never he grunted and shrugged, throwing back a quarter of his own drink. “Once. It’s real hard for me to get there, constitution an’ all, but hoo boy, when I got there, I got there,” he said with a shake of his head. “I was headin’ out of New Orleans for the last time and I hit up Bourbon Street. It’s, uh, notorious for its indecency. Anyhow, I just kept drinking at bars until they kicked me out and I just made my way down.” He pantomimed walking down the street with two fingers. “Stopped by every bar. I think it was the second to last where I don’t remember what happened. Woke up in an alley with beads and, uh, someone’s bra across me like a bandolier. Might’ve been two.” His face heated at the memory. It didn’t occur to him to consider how he got there. That he had heavily thought about smothering his mindless grandfather just an hour before he took to the street. “Alright, alright. Think I’m gettin’ the gist. Never have I ever...Never have I ever been awake for two days straight.”

The smile that began inching across the stretch of Margot's lips was soaked in impish glee, tongue poking out to dip across and savor the lingering hint of whiskey. At heart, she yearned to enjoy life - had been brought up to believe that in the most quaint and quiet and simple of environments, lay the most cherished of memories made, and for the making. The closed off exterior lent itself for others to believe the opposite. She was a paranoid shut-in whose only solace was finding out new ways to seal herself off from the world and it's many, many dangers. Her father had inadvertently aided in creating that image, though she knew it was born from the right reasons. They had no other means of protecting themselves where physical altercations weren't concerned. "You don't 'gotta', just a suggestion. I'm looking out for you here, dude.”

The idea of Nicodemus being a charity case struck a sour chord, and her smile faltered slightly, eyes lowering to stare down at her cup. With the air of calm bemusement that settled between them, she idly wondered if this was solely being done out of regard for his safety. Right now, she was enjoying herself, enjoying another's company. That... just didn't happen very often in her life. Not outside of herself and her father.

Obviously he had fallen prey to her next Never, and she watched with eager fascination as he downed his own gulp, awaiting the story behind his reaction. Already she felt the beginnings of a smile curl upon her lips, but she attempted to stave it off for as long as possible. Though she couldn't stop a snort from arising from her, head bowed slightly. "Mm, that's... definitely interesting," She would have asked what size bra it was, but he seemed sufficiently bashful about the entire ordeal, so she wouldn't pry for the time being. Still it was enough for her to snicker lightly. Until his next Never. Her laughter trailed off into silence, and she tilted her cup with loose fingers before raising it to her lips in a long swig. Not pleasant. "Definitely done that before. Not because I wanted to.”

The strangeness of the situation settled over Nicodemus as he watched Margot smile and much like when someone cried around him, the inebriated felt compelled to match it. His large hand wrapped around the small plastic cup as he tapped out a nameless rhythm. No gun in his hand, no knife between his teeth. Somewhere else, he might've felt vulnerable. On edge and looking for an out. But he didn't. He didn't think whiskey was the reason for that. Why he felt comfortable around Margot, he wasn't sure and that uncertainty made his fingers tap. Tap not clench. She didn't have to give a shit that danger was lurking for him around every corner, under every crack. He himself didn't give a shit. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," he mumbled, looking down. "Still gettin' used to that shit."

Her demeanor shifted and he frowned at himself. Rude and dismissive, he absolutely could be. A lifetime of no social contact other than his grandparents and the occasional stranger in the front yard with hard eyes had left him ill-prepared for company. A killing machine, yes, but a social butterfly? He was a hornet. To consider being anything else was death.

They were drinking again and he welcomed the burn of distraction. "Interestin' is a word for it, yeah." He rumbled when he laughed, slim crows feet landing at the corners of his eyes. Nose scrunched. The hunter shifted as she downed her next Never. Suddenly, he wasn't interested in the next Never and more interested in the story behind what she didn't say. Her response said enough. "Ain't keen on it either if I'm bein' honest with you, Gold. Don't sleep much these days. This," he paused as he added a little more to his cup. "Is supposed to help. Mostly doesn't, but hey, placebos been around long enough, ain't they?" His tongue prodded his bottom lip as he chewed over the question. "Can I ask what happened?"

Margot could have guessed the exact words before they formed in his throat. It was only fair, considering that they had both divulged the details of their respective Nevers thus far. Of course, she also hadn’t meant for the game to take such a three-sixty where it concerned the mood of said truths. Margot’s lips twitched to the side, becoming a tightly clamped seal. Her hesitance was worn like a flashy outer garment - there was no need to hide it, and with Nic being as perceptive as she believed him to be, it wouldn’t have done any good either way. Her chest felt suddenly far too tight, as if the whiskey had burned too deep, siphoning a portion of air from her lungs. Constricted and in desperate need of release. She exhaled, long and slow through her nose, before forcing a smile onto her features. One that appeared almost as pained as she felt.

“You make a habit out of something, you’re bound to make yourself believe in it. Hell, maybe it actually does work in some weird, twisted way. Enough that you don’t stop,” She wasn’t directly referring to Nic or his issues with alcohol, nor would she ever. Vices were, and should be, to each their own. Her father had them, her mother once, and she certainly held a fair amount. Coping was coping - whether a mechanism or a method.

Talking things out was supposedly a method. A shitty one, far as she was concerned. But, the game was the game. “I was thirteen. And… we had just moved. Again. Maybe the fifth time… Sixth? No, no fifth, I remember. We’d come from Dulvey - it was so fucking humid, and we were in the car, sweating out every ounce of water we’d poured into ourselves. ‘Cause the air condition had stopped working a while back, and we never got the chance to fix it. Not before dad… had his feeling,” A bitterness laced the word, lines reminiscent of a scowl forming along each side of her lips. “See, after… stuff happened, my dad got real paranoid about hunters. Not animal ones - hunters who go after people like me. People who aren’t people, in their eyes. And he swore we were about to be found out by this group of guys he worked with. Said they were asking him too many questions, didn’t like the way they’d look at me when I stopped by to visit him. So, we packed the little we had and just... left. We were living out of a motel at the time, barely stayed longer than four months. We never stayed in one place very long. And dad… God, he was so fucking tired. And I knew how to drive, so I did. Three days, we just drove. Or we’d stop and rest, but when he thought I was asleep, I never was. I couldn’t. ‘Cause all I could think of was ‘The moment I close my eyes, they’ll catch us. The moment I let my guard down, that’s when they’ll come’. So we drove, and I didn’t sleep until we made it to the next state. And even then it felt wrong,”

By the time Margot had finished, her body had sagged, eyes slightly hazy as they stared listlessly at the table below her. She should come up with another Never, a part of her mind echoed. But the other half wondered what the point was to all of it. To any of it.

Nicodemus watched her without blinking. As warm as the whiskey had made him feel, it seeped out of him fingers first. Not at all unlike the dispassionate cold in which he rounded up still-warm bodies and dropped them off. Not at all unlike cold, crisp dollars in his hand. In his pocket. Supposed he made a habit out of that too. But he didn't believe in it. Didn't believe in anything. He believed in the certainty of an odd number of bullets and the evens that leveled out at the end. His jaw tightened to a painful, sharp angle. He let go of the cup before the plastic started to crack but not before he tipped it back down his throat. His bad habit. He pulled away from the table, receded like a slow wave. A sick sense of humor burned his belly like acid as he listened to her tell her story, tell her fears, tell her tragedy. Hadn't his started the same? The death of a mother. The fear, the uncertainty, the knife's edge of oblivion that whispered a moon song. The kind of song that kept him dancing, blood like ribbons around his wrists. Or chains. When he closed his eyes thirty years ago, sleep evaded him. Sleep was where the demons came. Vulnerability was an open door, for either a hand to hold you or a hand to bite you. Either one could end it all. Bite his own hand and he could suffer alone. Decades old scars patterned his palms, cut off his lifelines before. Disconnected him from the then and the now.

As she finished, near lifeless and colorless, he said nothing. Maybe that was the knife. Maybe that was why he never asked for names. Names meant something. Completed faces and eyes in a way that unnerved him. The hunter exhaled a slow, steady breath through his nose as he finally allowed himself to blink. She looked at the table as he looked at her. His eyes narrowed. His tongue pressed against the sharp point of his teeth until he tasted his own blood and swallowed it. The poor excuse of a fan overhead circled precariously. His eyes slid past her, to the dim clock on the table. To the slip of a moon peeking in through the curtains that never closed right. Warmth crept in at his neck. His hands slid to the table. A lone finger began to tap dully against the wood. The finger just to the right of his trigger finger. She must have had an idea what he was. How he tore a wolf in two with just a silver knife and that damnable Bossier spirit. The one he couldn't seem to exorcise himself of. If you bleed, make the other bleed more. Wordlessly, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and drank it entirely. He screwed the cap back on and set it down. Now well-oiled, Nic cracked open his iron jaw.

"Fear keeps you awake. Sometimes you have to kill it to sleep at night."

His voice was low, devoid of that mirth from before. Why didn't she just tear him in two if she even had the inkling of what he was? She could do it. Her bite was stronger. For as hard as his eyes were, the edges of his face softened. Waned under her presence.

"If I put my head down right now…" he glanced back to look at the misshapen form of a pillow behind him. "What's gonna happen, Margot?"

As easily as the game had begun, it had slowed to a halt. If anyone recognized that all good things came to an end, it was Margot. The moment he had asked, the second the story came to mind, the aching pause before it had finally rose in her throat - all frustration and bitter bile waiting to be expelled, not viciously, not spat; it drooled from her, drained thick and heavy and cloying, unending like the searing road had stretched over those long three days. No matter how many times she had repeated the entirety of events inside of her head, it never seemed to be enough. And like a poison of the stomach, it churned and circled and only grew in acidity until it seemed to eat away at her from the inside out. She had emotionally vomited right in front of a man who she had seen only once before, had seen bare and exposed, had talked to even less. And her belly still ached from the purge.

She didn't watch him, or maybe it was couldn't. More had been said between them than the simple telling of a story; she was certain he had to be aware of that. Nic wasn't stupid. That was both a relief, and a blatant danger. And the longer she sat with him, becoming aware of his mannerisms, his voice, had traced the sharp edge of his jaw when it thrust against skin and was certain it could cut diamond if he wished to do so, the more she began to realize that her forced naivety could not, and would no longer last. He was what he was, what they all were, and she had come to that realization before they sat at a table together in a crappy motel room. It dawned on her the moment he decided not to kill her.

Why did that seem so long ago, now?

Her gaze finally lifted, only to flicker to the bottle as it was hefted into a firm grasp and emptied of its remaining drops. Not unlike the second he drained the life force from that wolf. Swift, and decisive. Yes, that's what he was. There was no more room for a maybe. And she was, and suddenly stood once his question had lingered a few moments into the silence between them. For all the listlessness that had been her form prior, Margot righted herself fully; tall, proud, sharp. Blue gaze locked onto his features as she inhaled, fingers curling towards her palm atop the rickety surface. “I told you,” Exhale; fingers slowly splayed out as she approached him, the edge of the grey cardigan draped around her shoulders brushing against his arm. A small, almost sad smile formed, features softening in… it wasn’t understanding, but acceptance.

“I’ll protect you,”

#para: nic #para: whiskey lullaby #//aka 'Lora kills Ash many times over'

12 notes · View notes

dreamy-slytherin · 5 years ago

Note

[1] Weirdest ask ever, but I'll send it anyway. I'm so glad I discovered your private account on here. I don't even have an account myself, I got to yours from I think Flora's account which I check from time to time because I really like her answers/comments on certain Druck scenes etc. I followed you on Instagram first and I really love your art. I followed you before Druck S3 even started. While S3 was airing and the outing in school scene took place a lot of people were so angry and pissed

[2] because Druck decided to show this triggering scene. I saw a lot of comments from you (I don't even rememer if it was on druckaddicts account?) saying Druck did this for pure drama & how you hated the decision, which almost sound as if you thought the Druck producers are transphobic or they like the idea of 'the trans character has to suffer the most'. The comments seemed really harsh imo and I felt kind of cowed. Then I remember this thing happened, where you drew “Matteo” in the ocean

[3] for your Davenziohyes art. Lukas reposted it and thought it was him on the picture. You then changed the hashtags and the discription for the picture. It was really weird for me because I always loved how you stated that you're not doing all your art to get appreciation from the actors but you're doing it for yourself and for the Skam fandoms. In this situation I thought 'Okay, why does she change her whole discription of the picture then?' and tbh I unfollowed on Instagram because the

[4] situation was so weird for me. BUT then I discovered your private account on here and for some reason the way you're presenting yourself on the 'not art' account is so different. I love your answers for the asks you get. I love the way you're not shy to post things that may piss other people off as long it's what you think is right in your opinion. I loved how you called out Lukas for revealing there will be not Season5 in the middle of the night out of nowhere. And stating that even though

[5] you like and respect the actors, you're still allowed to call out things you think are not good/nice. I love how you changed the header after it was so obvious how awful Jens is in the beginning of S3. It's so nice so see that you also answer things that seem rude in the first place. Whatever, I'm writing a novel here without even being able to use perfect english. But I just wanted to tell you that after discovering this account here you seem so so so sympathic and nice. You go girl.

------

Hey anon 🤗 reading these asks was a long journey and I have to say I felt rather uncomfortable while reading them because you're absolutely right

That's why I am SO GLAD you sent me those asks. I always wondered how I come across on my two accounts. And honestly I've always thoughts this here was the place to be problematic and get hate while my art acc is a safe space for me and for my followers. How the turns have tabled (the office joke, sorry) 😂😂

This is who I am. I'm a person with strong opinions and fire in my heart. I'm a gemini and scorpio, so what do you expect? Yes, I am problematic from time to time but I'm not ashamed of making mistakes and admitting I was wrong. And oh my, I've been wrong many times. Thanks for giving me a second chance and maybe a third and fourth. You're very nice to me ❤

Have a nice day and take care of yourself. And the moral of the story is: being nice comes across as less nice than being honest.

#ask #anon #personal

3 notes · View notes

yeonjuins · 3 years ago

Note

no need to apologize!! ♡︎ this might be a little late because I kept getting distracted but my day went really well!! I just spent time relaxing for the day :))) i hope your day was good too!

AKSK yes,, I guess it’s because the way you design things?? and but yeah I understand about the admiring thing,, that was same thing with me,, I just really thought about the astronomer job and like all the demands and stuff and I had to ask myself am I really able to do all of that or not so I was like yeah that might not be for you lol and understandable,, architecture does seem like it could be… (I can’t think of the word im looking for) strenuous?? KAKSKS

ahhh space and time would’ve been so cool to learn about !! Maybe some time down line I’ll take an astronomy class to satisfy me ♡︎♡︎♡︎

🤝 yes exactly like it would be nice to do it up close but then there’s a lot realizations that come up KSKSSK

aww boo :(( I’m sorry for that but fingers crossed 🤞🏾and I will continue to manifest and telepathically let her know to get back at you 😌 KSKKS

oh well that’s good!! I’m glad you were able to make it safely ♡︎ and workaholic is fine as long as it’s healthy KAKSKS and ohh what are you excited about?

also also your profile revamp is very cute ♡︎♡︎ your mobile header is so so adorable and you’re desktop theme is just so pretty AKAK I like the little animation that happens when you click on it ♡︎

(slightly lengthy response!)

WHAHHA making sure to write this before i go to bed (": PAHHHA is it the way i design things ? i see it to a certain extent (": the class overall was fine and i did well in it- just definitely wasn't something i wanted to pursue as a career... glad i still took the course nonetheless so i know now than to acc major in it and suffer PAHAHHA

NO im truly hoping she rmbrs to get back to me ): thank u for ur manifestation i rlly need it

mmm i dont think any form of workaholism is healthy, actually (": PAHHAHA i mean, it has the term 'workaholic' for a reason, right? it's not something i'm proud of either to be frank (since workaholism overall is prioritizing work >>> everything else in life and at the expense of literally . your mental health)

i do however think that just having a good work/life balance is fine and that's overall what's best/healthiest (": (<- sorry the topic of workaholism is truly . smth i can go on a huge rant about because i've genuinely struggled with it for so long but !! i do not want to do that so i will end it there PAHHAHA)

i'm very excited for the change in workflow !! since i dropped my morning class, i'll have a spare in the morning so i can just chill in the library and either get caught up on stuff or just sleep (the librarian loves me <3) and then the rest of my day i’ll go home early from school to work at my internship hehe AND THANK YOU i was like ;0 humming anon is going to see my profile revamp now hehe i'm glad u like it <3 i worked hard on the desktop theme as well with the whole bg and customizations so ty my love hehe <3

#asks #humming anon

1 note · View note

writtenwhalien · 3 years ago

Note

AAAA I JUS CAME BACC FROM SCHOOL AND SAW UR REPLY🥺🥺 IF WE GETTING A SEQUEL IM SO HYPED AAAAAAAAA FOR XMAS🥺🥺🥺 I LUV XMAS🥺 ALSO U R TOO SWEET🤍🤍

btw i was scared cos BASICALLY IT SOUNDS DUMB BUT,,, i was playing episode interactive(i promise im on the good side😭) and there was a horror story named the elevator game in my library w like three chapters and i always wanted to start it but ik I DONT DO HORROR WELL BUT IN THE END I STILL DID IT AND IT SCARED ME A LOT COS THE THING KINDA EXISTS IRL SO I PANICKED ASF AND COULDNT SLEEP ALL NIGHT SO UR STORY HELPPPPEEEED ME ASF AAAA TYSM!!!🤍🤍🤍🤍 literally sAVED me😭 but im still taking the stairs from now on💔💔💔 but i really also love ur acc cos it radiates sm positive energy i feel so safe here<3

mwah ily :) ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 🌙

haha babe I’m so glad you’re excited for it 😋 I’m going to try my hardest to write it bc a hogwarts au is the perfect fic for Xmas! 🥰🎄I just need to come up with a decent plot lol — always the hardest part.

if anyone has any suggestions (involving Loretta would be good), you can send them in! (It’s been a while since I’ve read parry potter so I can’t fully remember the wizarding world and it’s rules 😂).

oh my gosh, honestly I don’t think it sounds dumb bc I’m SUCH a scaredy cat too 😭😭 I’ve only seen like two horror movies in my life and I’m 21, I absolutely cannot watch them.

also, it makes me so happy to know you feel safe here, any time anyone tells me that, it makes me feel so happy and warm inside, it’s all I could want for my blog to be a safe, comfortable space for you! 🥺❤️❤️❤️

#asks 💌#🌙 anon

0 notes

thewhimsicalfairy · 5 years ago

Text

DAY 0 - a chronological documentation of this non-relationship

right from the start, i told myself, i told everyone who would listen/knew that i was just not gonna take this too seriously...

as with all online dates, they have a tendency to drop off or i have a tendency to lose interest very quickly but somehow you stuck around, yet i still refused to entertain the idea that there might be something...

2 May: we connected on CMB, you were very open about your history which i listened with an open mind and appreciated you for being open and honest about it...

we traded numbers since the chat was closing and then continued chatting from there...

22 May: met up ftf for the first time at Oasia Hotel's Marmalade Pantry, someone was in grey tee (knitted i believe) and camou pants haha the convo flowed and all but still it was just like any other first dates i've been on, always keeping my expectations in check... you surprised me with sandwich choices though, promising to bring me a jar of the infamous peanut butter from Amsterdam (from your upcoming work trip) and proceeding to hand me a box of 2 nicely wrapped sandwiches, one creamy and one non-creamy version, both with the crusts off. it showed me you were meticulous and caring...just noting your good qualities... before we parted ways you asked if we could be in touch...i said sure being the cool girl that i am...

1 June: we continued texting non-stop, rapid-fire style, playing 20 questions...asking all the right and wrong questions...we’d already escalated to sexting by then...and then you left for Amsterdam. truth be told i had this crazy urge to run to your office area to bid you farewell prior to you leaving for your trip...like give you a hug or something...but i reined in that crazy bitch. we continued texting all the way till you boarded your plane and then you asked me to send you my picture. i've received such crazy requests before and i was kinda wary but i took some anyhow (ok more like a lot) and then proceeded to ponder whether to send or not for the next 50min or so...as well as ask the Internet gods 'what does it mean when he asks for a photo' (to varying degrees of responses) you even noticed my absence when i was busy taking photos but i sent 1 in the end after i confirmed that u were not gonna be doing anything funny to it (not sure if i’m supposed to be flattered if anyone wanks off to my photo but anyway)

and then you sent me yours just like that (and it is still my favourite photo of you to date haha)...and promised to text the moment you land and all...you were very responsible with your words then...

1-7 June: you were in Amsterdam for work but it was as if i was just right beside you on this same trip cos the texting never let up despite the time difference. you would send me pictures of everything that you were doing, eating, ootds, everything and there was no stopping the conversations... and still you reeled me in...

13 June: we met up for a 2nd time, this time at Pagi Sore (100am) and depsite constant texting, it felt a little awks nonetheless to be meeting ftf after so long so everyone was still kinda on our best behaviour haha (but i'm always well behaved) and you presented me with the gifts you got for me at Amsterdam (the peanut butter as promised) and fancy chocolates that you picked up at the airport. confirmed mentally that gift giving was defo one of your top love language. and still you reeled me in...

and we texted some more, non-stop, impromptu lunches in between and i'd happily skip out of office just to hang out ditching the girls (resulting in the girls just saying how about i let them know when i would be next joining them for lunch =x)

20 June: dinner and drinks at Westin's Cook & Brew...this was kinda like the night you will provide a tell-all on your past relationships - and tell you did (a terribly colourful dating history if i may add) and the night went on... we continued on with more drinks at the outdoor bar area...normally it would've been a good idea but that night it was terribly windy and i was kinda chilly despite the alcohol warming me up so i was glad to have my jacket with me (the same one i wore to our first date you noted). and then it started to rain and we had to move back indoors but we didn't attempt to leave even though i was already feeling buzzed... not before long the bar had to close so i had to down my wine in a quick shot and we left...and took a roundabout walk to around the area on a bench and talked some more we both agreed the night would have carried on if not for the fact that tomorrow was still a working day... the question of what we were looking for came up (i asked this question first) and you said you were just looking around... we got home on separate taxis and i made a mental note of your response and that you hadn't made a move on me yet so i was relatively clear on where i stood on this (meh's advice, especially after watching 'He's Just Not That Into You') - you were basically not interested hah so i managed my expectations and thought well a least it has been interesting...when we got home...you did text to say you did notice my choice of outfit (my all time favourite slip dress really)...pity you didn’t manage to take a good look at the cowl back...

29 June: you finally asked me out on a weekend...actually i did casually mention to you that my mom was wondering why this guy i was seeing never asks me out on weekends...and if he’s got a family and all that’s why weekends are off-limits...(a mother’s intuition can be so spot-on but clearly it’s way more complicated than that...anyhow...) and i was ecstatic to say the least even if it was a date that was made that same day...tbh i was inclined to decline cos i don’t really do impromptu dates in general...(like please respect a girl’s time even if i don’t actually have solid plans...vegging at home and netflixing is kinda like a plan ok...)but i okayed it and just had to check what was the general plan cos a girl’s gotta dress for it you know...you brought me to the Ford Musuem having known that i am a sucker for museums covering the history of the war...even though you actually only went recently but you still accompanied me through it...it was also then you realised that i don’t carry my IC with me cos entry was free for SGreans...truth be told i have been to the Ford Musuem...but that was a few years back and i didn’t quite mind rehashing the place again (FOC why not right) they might have updated the exhibits and the experience would have been different with you...and rightly so cos there was so many times when you had your back towards me i wanted to give you a back hug...that you liked receiving them came up several times while we texting...but i never acted on it haha cos i didn’t want to seem i was throwing myself at you...a girl’s gotta to keep her pride in check you know...

after Ford you drove us to Punggol area just to show me the nice relaxing eating space...but we didn’t actually have dinner there lol...we moved on to Punggol Settlement to dine at White Restaurant...the only place you will eat bee hoon cos that placed is famous for it and with good reason cos the food is genuinely good...we had quite the spread, other than the bee hoon we had prawn paste chicken and sambal kang kong :))) happy camper that night cos i appreciate a good meal...i paid for dinner since you were so sweet to drive us around that was least i could do...back in the car you asked if i needed to head home...but i was up for anything...so you suggested a drive and asked if i had been to Jewel since it opened and i hadn’t so we ended up there...

and we continued texting...

1 July: we met for lunch at the Nasi Lemak place opposite Realty Centre (which has since died) and post-lunch i was saying how i was concerned that my hair would smell and all (cos indoor seating with the food cooking inside doesn't make for a great combination) and you reached out and smelt my hair...that was the single most intimate move that i'd ever received and then before we parted you pulled me into a hug and i just went for it... like i didn't do the a-hug or half hug kind of bullshit but a full on body to body contact hug...and it felt nice...i think my mind kinda stopped processing whilst we were hugging but yeah i really really liked the smell of your cologne since then another fact: i was so turned on from that hug my panties were basically soaked; i had to wear my dress the wrong way round so that it wouldn't look like i stained myself... you had that kind of an effect on me...and i think my walls came tumbling down...

4 July: dinner at a Suntec's Unagi place (your choice since we didn't want to deal with the queue at Man Man) and apparently you took off early that night to pick up your car... someone wanted to drive us to some place nice after... i saw that there was 1-for-1 happy hour on the highball and you okayed it even though you were driving

you drove us Marina Barrage and there you said that you liked me and wrapped me in your arms when you said it and i was in a complete daze i mean i was aware that there was something brewing but i wasn't sure of the signs and i've been very wary about 自作多情 so i just maintained whatever it was we had and then this confession...you said i clearly liked you otherwise i wouldn't be hanging out with you which was true and then you asked what was it that i liked about you as you wrapped me in your arms again and i was genuinely at a loss for words...i've received confessions before but never one where it was clearly mutual and in such an intimate setting...the wordsmith basically decided to quit on me and i struggled to find the right words i settled for ‘you make me feel safe’ and that was the absolute truth...i never doubted your intentions before as you were always so honest and forthcoming with the situation back at home and even when you said you couldn’t make this official not until your divorce is finalised in Dec...when in reality not many people around you know about us i accepted it...i trusted you completely... and you took your hand in mine and it was the interlocking kind...and my heart felt all kinds of things it has never felt before... another fact: again super turned on by the hug we shared, panties were soaking wet again but thank god for panty liners otherwise it'll be a different walk of shame for me... i really liked it when you placed your hand on my bum (it felt good somehow), and i definitely felt a boner somewhere...

5 July: dinner and movie (...) i was kinda sad when the night ended, i didn't want it to end cos i always enjoyed our time together, there wasn't enough time anyhow and i gave you a peck on the cheek cos that was all i could muster at that point before we parted...

(...to be continued...)

basically once the touch barrier was broken, i wanted to touch you so badly all the time. literally ALL.THE.TIME. even if it was just stolen moments at Donki i gave you backhugs and random kisses and hand holding...i couldn't get enough... i confirmed one of my top love languages was touch and i wanted to communicate that thoroughly...you meant that much to me...

x x x

and as much as you are wont to admit it, i was defo a rebound, all the signs pointed to it and and it still tears me up inside i basically became collateral damage as you tried to seek solace from the pain... the Heartbreak Spotify Playlist is definitely not helping my case but it’s like beating a dead horse right...you just keep going at it until you’re numb i suppose...but i had no idea how i could relate so much to these songs till now it’s pretty crazy...some favourite tracks that can set me off right now are: Camila Cabelo’s Consequences X Ambassadors’ Unsteady Birdy’s Skinny Love

#post break up #heartache #행복한 시간

0 notes

lesbian-sora · 7 years ago

Text

Hogwarts Christmas Fic Part 4

Summary: Dan finally gets to spend his first Christmas with the Lesters. Previous part here!

Genre: Fluff

Words: 3.2K (It’s so much longer than the others wow.)

Warnings: Just some swearing for you to worry about!

Author’s note: So yeah, this was supposed to be published 173 days ago. Whoops. Well, people asked for the conclusion so I wrote a Christmas fic in June. It’s fine. Anyway, I’m still doing prompts every Friday so send them on over here!

Dan honestly wasn’t expecting too much on Christmas morning. He figured he would slowly wake up around nine or ten like he did on all the days he didn’t have a schedule to keep. Afterwards he would open the presents the House Elves had delivered (he was kind of hoping they would at least nibble the cookies he left for them as he was a little bummed out over missing the family tradition of Santa cookies this year) and then wander down stairs for breakfast, either meeting Phil in the Great Hall or hunting him down afterwards. Then there would be a bit of wandering about a Christmassy Hogwarts until it was time to go to Phil’s family home. They’d be there for a bit for Christmas tea and present swapping for the Lesters while Dan sweet talked Katherine Lester into liking him even more than she already did. After that they’d make it back to the castle for the famous Hogwarts Christmas Feast where he and Phil would sit with their students and pop some crackers and enjoy themselves. The evening would finish off with yet another wandering of the corridors, but this time they’d be a bit more tipsy and eager to find little nooks donned with mistletoe. All in all an absolutely wonderful Christmas, and a perfect one for his first Christmas as Phil’s boyfriend.

Phil, apparently, had other ideas.

“Dan! Dan, wake up! It’s Christmas!” Phil shouted, bouncing on Dan’s bed and shaking him. “Come on, then! You can’t just sleep the day away!”

Dan groaned and stuffed his head under his pillow. “Nooo,” he whined. “Why are you even awake? It’s so early you’re always a grump before noon.”

“Not on Christmas!”

Dan did eventually emerge from his pillowy fortress to glare at his boyfriend. Unfortunately, Phil was still in his PJs and a santa hat and was just in general too unfairly adorable for Dan to stay irritated at him. “Alright, alright, I’m up. Now give me my presents, please.”

Phil beamed and handed Dan six presents, keeping five for himself. Dan quickly sorted through his gifts going through the givers’ names in his head. Mum and Dad, Adrien, Louise, PJ, Bryony, and Felix and Marzia. Wait a second. “There’s not a present from you in here,” he said, then flushed slightly over how childish he sounded.

Phil just laughed, obviously not offended. “That’s because I didn’t give the House Elves my present to you. Your present is safely at my parents’ house along with all the other ones.”

“Oh,” Dan pouted. “Well, I did have yours delivered, so you’re not allowed to open it until I do.”

“Fair enough,” Phil said with a shrug, then without another word he dove straight into ripping open his packages, and Dan did the same.

From his parents he got a very heavy book about stars that combined Muggle and Wizard knowledge showing everything from the different constellations between the worlds and explaining how the science of Muggles could explain just how they impacted magic and how magic explained things science couldn’t. Adrien’s gift was a little silly but also wonderfully sentimental as it was a small photo book full of nothing but pictures of their dog whom Dan freely admitted to missing the most while away. Louise had gotten him a wonderful quill that refilled itself with ink, PJ had painted a beautiful picture of Dan flying through space, Bryony had gotten him a giant box of sweets with a note saying “Phil’s box is different so share, boys ;)” and Felix and Marzia had gotten him a nice set of attachments to go on his telescope.

“Good haul?” Phil asked, grinning and surrounded by the presents he had opened along with Dan’s which remained unopened.

“Yeah, you?”

Phil nodded, clearly quite happy. “Did PJ give you a painting, too? He left me a note that said the paintings would interact.”

“I didn’t get a note,” Dan pouted.

“Did you check the back?”

“No? Oh, there it is.” Doing as the note instructed, Dan and Phil sat their paintings up right next to each other and waited. Sure enough, as soon as painting Dan realized there was another painting he flew across and landed in painting Phil’s jungle. Upon meeting, the painting Dan and Phil threw their arms in the air and embraced, making strange almost squeaking sounds. “I wonder why they can’t talk right,” Dan pondered.

“I think it’s PJ’s art style,” Phil said. “It’s less realism and more impressionist so when the paintings talk we can just get an impression of what they’re trying to say.”

“Oh, well, they sound happy.”

“Yeah, I can imagine they are.” Phil sounded a little odd, so Dan glanced at him, but quickly looked away with a red face when he saw that Phil was just staring at him a dopey, lovestruck smile.

“Come on, let’s go get breakfast, I’m starving,” Dan said quickly, standing up to hide his blush.

Phil nodded and stood as well, taking time to grab Dan’s hand and tug him along. “Yeah, we’d best be going, we’ve got a bit of a tight schedule.”

“What are you talking about?”

Phil glanced at him, looking almost as confused as he was. “My parents’ house, remember? We’re supposed to be there around ten and it’s already a quarter of nine.”

“What?”

Phil looked even more confused and now a little hurt. “We said yesterday that we’d go to my parents’ before the feast. Do… Do you not want to go anymore?”

“Of course I still want to go,” Dan said quickly. “I’m just really surprised we’re going that early. I thought we were getting back just in time for the feast.”

“Oh, we are.”

Dan’s eyes kind of bulged. “We’re going to be at your house for six hours?”

“Uh, yeah?” Phil said nervously. “That’s what I usually do on Christmas?”

“Oh, my god, I thought it was only going to be for like two or three hours,” Dan fretted. “Phil, how am I supposed to make a good impression for six hours?”

“You don’t need to make a good impression,” Phil laughed. “You’ve met my family before and they all love you.”

“But I’m your boyfriend now,” Dan pointed out. “They’re going to judge me different.”

“Nah, they all know I’ve basically been in love with you since we first met, so they’ll all be thrilled,” Phil shrugged. Then he suddenly realized what he just said and his face flushed to match the same maroon Dan’s was. “I mean, um. Don’t worry, they like you.”

Dan smiled almost shyly, looking at Phil through his lashes. “I’m glad,” he said softly.

Phil smiled that same love struck smile he had given Dan earlier before suddenly clearing his throat and shaking his head. “Er, right. Breakfast then?”

Breakfast passed with little to no excitement. They sat up at the teachers’ table in their normal spots right next to one another as it appeared that all of the students were either still in their dorms or scarfing down their breakfast to get back to their dorms. There was one instance where John Browning from Slytherin was eating too quickly and started choking but the Charms professor, Lucy Grove, lazily waved her wand which caused the toast John was choking on to fly out of his mouth and bop him on the head before scolding him to slow down. There were the normal breakfast foods like sausages and porridge, but apparently the House Elves were warming up for the main show that evening because there were also gooey cinnamon rolls and smoked salmon and big fluffy pancakes. Dan was more than tempted to gorge himself on everything available, but Phil warned him that his mum would be making a Christmas lunch that deserved plenty of room. After breakfast they parted ways to get properly dressed with an agreement to meet back in Phil’s office as soon as they were done to take the fireplace to the Lester residence.

“You ready?” Phil asked when Dan finally made it to the office.

“Do I look ready?” Dan asked, then elaborated. “That was a serious question, by the way. Do I look alright?”

“You look great,” Phil chuckled, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist. Dan made a small noise of disbelief so he pressed on. “No, really, you do. Just know that mum is going to put you in a sweater as soon as we get there.”

“I’d look great in anything she makes,” Dan scoffed.

“Honestly you would,” Phil agreed easily. He then tossed a pinch of Floo Powder into the flames, turning them a bright green, and offered Dan a hand which he gladly took. They stepped into the fireplace hand in hand and Phil said in a loud, clear voice, “Highwood Manor!”

As always when traveling by Floo, Dan screwed his eyes shut and allowed Phil to lead the way. When they did suddenly come to a stop, he reached out a hand to catch Phil who, again as always, was about to fall out of the fireplace. “We’ve really got to work on your landings,” Dan admonished gently as he righted Phil’s balance.

“Phil, you’re here! And you brought Dan!”

This was the only warning Dan got before he was being swept up in a tight hug along with Phil. “Hello, Mrs. Lester,” he wheezed, once again marveling at her incredibly strong grip.

“Oh, you always get so dusty when you use Phil’s fireplace,” she frowned. “Why don’t you two use yours, Dan? Yours is always so neat and tidy.”

“You just think that because whenever you come to visit at his house he always goes into a frenzy to super clean everything,” Phil smirked.

“Phil!” Dan squawked while Mrs. Lester just laughed. “You can’t just go around telling secrets like that!”

“Oh, nevermind him, dear,” Mrs. Lester smiled. “Come on, we’re going to open presents now that you two are here.” Phil absolutely beamed and dragged Dan along to the parlor.

As always when he visited the Lester family home, Dan was amazed at the sheer size of it. As with a lot of Pureblood families, the Lesters had managed to accumulate a good deal of wealth along with a big ass manor to match. Seeing as Dan had grown up in a tiny three bedroom townhouse outside of Wokingham with a lounge smaller than one of the guest bedrooms, he never could wrap his head around being a kid in a place this large or how the Lesters somehow made the high ceilings and marble floors somehow seem cozy. He silently thanked whatever gods that were out there for making Phil the younger son and not the one who’d inherit the estate so he’d never have to move in and try to fill the place himself. Then he scolded himself for thinking way too far down the line of his and Phil’s relationship.

“Dan, you’re here!” Martyn said cheerfully, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. “All Phil’s wanted to talk about for the last month was how you were going to be at Hogwarts for Christmas, but I didn’t think he’d ever get the guts to actually invite you.”

“Oh, shove it,” Phil scowled, shoving his brother in attempts to distract from the pink coloring his cheeks.

“Come sit with me, Dan!” Cornelia called, waving him over. Once he was sat down in the squishy love seat with her she smiled, showing all her teeth. “I swear Lesters are the absolute worst people in the world, it’s good to have someone on my side.” She cast a glance around and stage whispered, “It’s also good to have someone who actually knows how Muggles act to talk to for once.”

Dan snickered at the mildly offended looks Martyn and Phil gave them. Dan honestly didn’t know how she managed to spend any time at all with the Lesters; he was only Muggle Born, he couldn’t imagine what it was like trying to chase down a wizard like Martyn while being a Muggle. “Would you believe me if I told you Phil didn’t know about Santa before I told him?”

“Absolutely, yes!” she snorted. “You should have seen the look on Martyn’s face when I told him.” She pulled a comically horrified face and mockingly said, “‘I can’t believe you tell Muggle kids there’s a magic man watching through the year-’”

“‘That’s an absolutely terrifying thought and you blackmail them into behaving!’” Dan finished. “Phil said the exact same thing!”

She snickered a bit and grinned at him. “It’s going to be nice being able to spend Christmas with at least one half sane person.”

“Mrs. Lester isn’t that bad.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re her favorite.”

“Shut up! Am not!” Dan mumbled, hiding his flushing face in his hands.

He was dragged out of his misery by Mrs. Lester nudging him on the arm and offering him a cookie with a sly wink. “Alright, you two. Presents time.”

“I’d like to sit next to my girlfriend again, if you don’t mind,” Martyn said, raising his eyebrows.

“Too bad I’ve decided I want to sit next to Dan,” Cornelia declared, looping her arm through Dan’s. Martyn responded with a faux offended scoff before trying to squirm his way between them while Cornelia laughed.

Quickly deciding he didn’t want to get caught up in that mess, Dan escaped to sit on a comfy tartan chair a few feet away. Phil soon joined him, sitting on the floor and leaning on Dan’s legs, and Dan smiled down at him and started absently running his fingers through his black finge. “Are my presents for your family here?” he double checked in a whisper.

Phil fondly rolled his eyes. “Yes, they’re here. I brought them over two weeks ago when you gave them to me.”

Dan was about to respond when he was interrupted by a present nudging him in the forehead. He looked up to see Mr. and Mrs. Lester with their wands out directing the presents to float over to their owner and hover in the air around them. “First round!” Mr. Lester said. “Everyone grab your present from Martyn!”

Dan quickly shuffled through his gifts until he found one labeled “To: Dan From: The Real Best Lester And You Know It.” He gently tore off the paper to find an incredibly detailed star map that moved when he tapped it with his wand and said a date. He peered over Phil’s shoulder and smiled when he saw him investigating a self-functioning watering can so he wouldn’t forget.

“Okay, my turn to pick who goes,” Martyn said. “I think we all know mum needs to go next.”

Mrs. Lester laughed merrily as everyone tore into identical squishy, lumpy squares. Dan beamed down at the handsome black sweater covered in sparkling silver stars, and without instruction pulled it on over his head. “Told you you’d look great,” Phil said, looking up at him with a dopey smile, wearing his own purple sweater.

“Actually, I believe I told you I’d look great,” Dan smirked.

“Yeah, but I agreed with you.”

“Okay, is everyone ready?” Mrs. Lester beamed. “Because it’s Tom’s turn!”

Things went on like that for Mr. Lester and Cornelia, and Dan received a big bottle of firewhiskey from Mr. Lester and a Blu-Ray set of several classic Christmas movies from Cornelia with a note that said “For when you want to feel a bit more Muggle this Christmas ;)”.

“I think it’s Dan’s turn!” Cornelia said with a grin when everyone had finished their presents from her.

Dan did his best not to flush and hide his face when everyone started opening his gifts. There were several oohs and thanks going around the circle, but Dan’s attention was solely focused on Phil who was tearing off the paper with abandon. In his lap was a tiny plant that snapped at his finger whenever it got too close Phil blinked down at it in awe for a moment then cooed at it before looking up at Dan like he hung the moon. “Thanks, Dan.”

Dan really did blush then and looked away, trying to casually cover his pink nose with his hand. “Shut up. It was nothing. Let’s quickly move on and open Phil’s gifts now.”

“You’re last this year, Phil,” Mrs. Lester smiled. “That means he gets to pick who starts us off next year,” she explained for Dan’s benefit.

Dan nodded, and tore into the present Phil had gotten him. Inside was a scarf, but not just any scarf. Dan looked at it in wonder as he ran his fingers over the silky smooth surface and watched as it seemed to flow around his fingers like water, while the stars that decorated it seemed to twinkle at him as they passed by. Almost hesitantly, he wrapped it around his neck and his eyes widened. As his neck was very sensitive he was very picky about his scarves, but this one was perfectly warm and hung around him like it was made to be worn by him.

“Do you like it?” Dan looked down at Phil who was biting his lip and staring up at him like he had anything in the world to be nervous about.

Dan just stared at him for a moment before his cheeks split into a smile wider than Dan had previously thought possible. “It’s brilliant,” he breathed, bending over to give Phil an upside down kiss.

“Holy shit!”

Dan snapped his head up to see Martyn gawking at them like a child seeing a dragon for the first time. “When the fuck did this happen, then?” he demanded, gesturing and Dan and Phil.

“Martyn, don’t use that kind of language at family Christmas,” Mr. Lester scolded.

“Sorry, dad. Okay, when the frick did this happen?”

“Umm, about two days ago?” Phil chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, it certainly is a Christmas miracle.”

“Mum!”

Dan just stayed silent with his hands over his face and tried to melt into the chair while the Lesters all shouted at one another about the very sudden change in Dan and Phil’s relationship. “Okay, look, it doesn’t matter!” Phil decided. “Dan and I are dating now, but we’re still working on things.”

“Oh, we’re just so happy for you is all, dear,” Mrs. Lester gushed.

“Yeah, I know, mum,” Phil smiled. “I think Dan and I are gonna go take a walk now, though. We’ll see you guys in a bit.”

He gently untangled Dan from the ball he had curled up in and gently escorted him outside after they bundled up in the coats he’d had the foresight to bring. They were silent for a while as they walked the snowy grounds side by side until Phil looked up at Dan from beneath his lashes. “So, that was your first Christmas with the Lesters.”

“Yeah,” Dan agreed blankly, staring straight ahead.

Phil bit his lower lip. “Did you- erm. Uh, how’d you like it.”

Dan stopped in his tracks and turned to Phil with a wide grin. “It was perfect.” Then he grabbed Phil by the ears and pulled him in for a kiss they were both too busy smiling to enjoy.

So there it is. The long awaited conclusion to the Hogwarts Christmas fic. Was it worth six months of waiting? Ehhhh, that’s for you to decide.

First Part!

Previous Part!

Prompt me!

#phan #phanfiction #hogwarts!phan #hpau phan #harry potter au #phan fluff #Phanfic #christmas phan #Bee writes

5 notes · View notes