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daisymbin · 2 days ago

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angst prompt #24 + dino

maybe where chan forgets yns bday because of his busy schedule >< (u can disregard this idea if u have other ideas in mind!) ((also up to u if u wanna make it a happy ending or not ><))

I swear dino w angst always hits different for some reason...that boy is just...lowkey kinda angst coded 😭 thank you for requesting!!!!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // chan's m.list

angst prompt #24: "I waited for you, but you never came."

you had been excited for weeks. chan had promised to spend your birthday together—just the two of you, no distractions. even three days ago, he had smiled at you over dinner, reaching across the table to hold your hands.

"it’s gonna be perfect," he’d said. "just wait."

and so you did.

you waited all morning, telling yourself he was probably running late or finishing up something important. by noon, you started to feel the edges of doubt creeping in, but you brushed it off. he was busy; he’d show up soon. you sent a text to check in—no response.

afternoon turned into evening, and the silence from him was deafening. by 6pm, you gave up on texting or calling altogether. your stomach churned every time you glanced at the untouched cake on the counter.

by 8pm, you couldn’t stand sitting on the couch any longer. you slipped into bed, hoping sleep would take away the sting of disappointment, but your mind wouldn’t stop spinning.

he forgot.

the words echoed relentlessly, a cruel chant in the quiet of your bedroom.

you turned over for the hundredth time, staring at the clock on your nightstand. you weren’t sure if it was the lump in your throat or the ache in your chest that kept you awake, but both felt equally miserable.

then, just as you were considering giving up on sleep entirely, you heard the front door open.

your heart jumped, anger and sadness twisting together. you sat up as footsteps hurried toward the bedroom. the door creaked open, and there he was—chan, looking worn out, his hair tousled and face full of guilt.

"i’m so sorry," he blurted out, rushing inside, his face pale. "i messed up. i swear, i didn’t mean to—"

"you forgot," you said, cutting him off, your voice quiet but firm, the weight of the day pressing into your words with heavy disappointment.

"no," he started, stepping closer, desperation in his eyes. "it’s not like that. i’ve just been really busy with work and rehearsals, and everything piled up. i didn’t even realize how late it got." he rubbed his hand over his face. "i swear, i never meant to forget. i… i should’ve called you, i should’ve done something."

you blinked, trying to process his words. "so, you’ve been busy all day? that’s why you didn’t even reach out?"

"yeah," he said guiltily. "i had everything planned, but the schedule got crazy. and then when i finally had time to think about it, i just… lost track of everything. i didn’t mean to hurt you." he walked closer, his eyes full of regret. "i’ve been such an idiot."

you turned away, trying to hold back the tears. "chan.. i thought… i thought you just forgot about me."

"no, i didn’t forget," he said, voice cracking as he moved closer. "i’ve been so wrapped up in everything, and then i didn’t even realize how much time had passed. i’m such a bad boyfriend." his shoulder slumps.

"you didn’t even think to tell me you were busy, chan," you whispered, your voice trembling. "you could’ve at least said something, but instead i spent the whole day waiting for you, thinking you’d forgotten me."

he closed the space between you, his hands reaching for yours. "please don’t think that. i would never forget about you. you mean everything to me." his voice dropped to a whisper. "i just… got caught up. i’m so sorry. i’m really, really sorry."

you pulled your hands away, stepping back slightly. "i waited for you, chan, but you never came."

he winced, as if each word struck him like a blow. "i know, and i’m sorry. but, let me make it up to you. please, there’s still time. we can still have dinner. i’ll cook if we need to, or we can get something, i don’t care. but i want to spend the rest of your birthday with you. please."

you shook your head, the sadness still weighing heavily on you. "it’s late, chan. everything’s closed. the day’s almost over."

he took a deep breath, his eyes softening with determination. "then i’ll make dinner. we can still do something. please, i don’t want to lose the chance to make this right." he stepped closer again, his eyes pleading. "please. just give me a chance."

you looked at him, seeing the exhaustion and regret in his eyes, and something inside you softened. it wasn’t perfect. it wasn’t what you’d imagined for your birthday, but it was still him, still chan, trying to make it right. you sighed, a small part of you already forgiving him.

"fine," you said quietly, though your voice was still tinged with disappointment. "but you’re lighting the candles on the cake."

chan’s face lit up with relief, and he pulled you toward the kitchen. as he fumbled with the candles, trying to light them, he mumbled under his breath, apologizing over and over.

finally, the candles were lit, and he turned to you, his face softening. "happy birthday," he said, his voice full of regret but also a little hope.

you nodded slowly, a faint smile playing on your lips as you looked at the cake. "thank you, chan."

he smiled sheepishly, stepping closer. "there’s one more thing," he said, reaching into his pocket. his hands were slightly shaky as he pulled out a small, carefully wrapped box and handed it to you. "i… i got this for you months ago, i was planning on giving it to you earlier, but with everything happening today, i couldn’t." he looked at you, almost nervously. "i hope you like it."

you stared at the box in your hands, confused but touched. "chan… you got me a present?"

he smiled weakly. "yeah. i’ve been keeping it safe, i wanted it to be special."

you slowly unwrapped it, your heart fluttering with anticipation. inside was a delicate necklace, a simple silver chain with a small pendant shaped like a crescent moon.

"i thought it would be perfect," chan said softly, his voice almost apologetic. "you've always loved the moon, and how it has many faces but its unchaging, always there."

tears pricked your eyes as you looked up at him. despite everything, this was the gift he had been thinking of for months. "chan… this is beautiful."

"i know i messed up today," he whispered, "but i promise i’ll make it up to you. i’ll never forget you again. you mean the world to me."

you smiled softly, wiping away the stray tear that had escaped. "thank you, chan. i love it. and i love you."

"happy birthday," he whispered, pulling you into a hug.

as he held you close, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. maybe this birthday wasn’t perfect, but with chan, you knew you’d get another chance, there's always next year—and that was all that mattered.

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thoughtfulfiction · 1 day ago

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Social Media QB

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

The reputation of the Chargers social media team was unmatched. They are known for being funny and up to date on all memes and pop culture references while also showcasing players’ personalities. That alone made you apply and this past year on the job had really been a once in a lifetime experience. Working with Megan and the crew was a daily adventure and you were becoming more and more comfortable calling the guys your friends. It even got to a point where you didn’t even call them by their names anymore.

Quentin was usually just “Q.” JK was always “J’Kaylin”, Derwin was “3” and your favorite nickname was definitely calling Justin “Sunshine.” At first it was a Remember the Titans reference but it became a lifestyle. Everything and everyone revolves around the sun and that’s exactly what it felt like when you were at work. All of the players were important and special but you could just feel the energy in the room shift when Justin was there. It was palpable, it almost took your breath away sometimes.

Off camera he was goofy, funny and had this uncanny ability to make the world stand still for a bit, even just for a few fleeting moments where it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. But then reality would hit and you were reminded that you work for the team and he’d never see you in that way, he was just nice to everyone he encountered. But on camera? It was all fun and games. There was a running joke, mostly based on his real feelings, that Justin hated cameras. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention or having people perceive him so he avoided the social media team altogether when phones were pointed in his direction.

But sometimes, a rarity, you were able to get him on camera, even if it was just for a split second. The two of you reviewed the questions he was going to be asked before their Hot Ones appearance and there was ALWAYS a discussion, more like subtle begging if you all were going to have him participate in any content.

“We need Justin for this new segment we’re doing, so you’re gonna have to talk to him.” Megan sighs, grabbing her Stanley cup that was sitting on the counter. She’d just finished editing a video where she and her assistant put fart spray on the tiny mic and could still smell the rancid scent until she grabbed some Lysol spray to de-funk the place.

You were going through photos taken during practice earlier that morning and deciding which ones to post and without looking up you asked her, “why do I have to do it?”

Lorren and Allie giggle in the corner, shaking their heads. “You cannot be serious right now y/n,” Lorren gives you a pointed look.

“What?”

“We all know you and Justin have a thing for each other. Even if you won’t admit to us…or yourself. It’s pretty obvious.”

You finally raise your head up from your laptop, staring at them while also wracking your brain trying to figure out when your innocent crush had become so painfully obvious. If the girls knew, then Justin had probably somehow caught on and the thought of that made you want to dig a hole right outside on the practice field and never come out. “Is��am I that easy to read?”

“No one blames you,” Megan runs a loving hand on your shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ve been trying so hard to hide your feelings that you haven’t noticed that he’s doing an even worse job of hiding his massive crush on you.”

The look on your face sends the room into a fit of laughter. “We’re being serious. The way he looks at you and acts around you. Anyone can see he’s into you friend.”

You weren’t convinced, “I need an example.”

“Okay fine,” Lorren stands up to prepare a demonstration. “He wasn’t ready to put the mics on when he was mic’d up until you walked over and helped him get the mic in the perfect spot in his pads. And then he wore the friendship bracelet for six weeks because you handed it to him.”

Allie pipes up to put in her two cents. “And let’s not forget when he had you driving him around the golf tournament and kicked Zion to the curb. There’s no way all of those are just a coincidence.”

“Fine. I’ll go ask him if he’ll shoot the video for us but I’m not going to lose my job because of a meaningless crush on the starting quarterback.”

You waited around for the guys to leave treatment after practice and caught up with him on his way out. “Hey Sunshine, quick question for you.”

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he gives you a small tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“I need you to do me a huge favor and be in this tik tok. It’s a short game and it’ll only take like 15 minutes.”

His deadpan face and disappointed dad sigh has you practically begging, saying “please” in your finest sing-song tone.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You knew he’d crack, he always did. “On one condition. You also have to participate.”

You hold your hand out and he engulfs it with his much larger one. “You’ve got yourself a deal Herbert.”

“Okay the rules of the game are simple,” Megan begins from behind her phone screen before hitting record, “we’re going to give you these Canadian snacks and you’ll rate them on a scale from 1 to 10. One being it’s awful I’ll never touch that again and 10 being a solid snack that you’d eat everyday if given the opportunity.”

You and Justin nod, diving in on everything from the ketchup chips to the toffee. The video didn’t take long as promised and the quarterback went about the rest of his day with no further distractions.

In your office a few days later on the team’s off day, you were contemplating your life. Maybe you should take a step back from him so people don't get the wrong idea. Sure, your coworkers were convinced the crush was mutual but what if he was just being nice? He was always so focused on football and making the most out of every opportunity. Why in the world would he waste time flirting with a social media manager? It just made no sense. Instead of continuing to run a million imaginary scenarios in your mind you packed up your stuff and tried heading out to the parking lot. Even after all this time you still struggled to maneuver all the twists and turns of the building and somehow found yourself walking past the quarterback room. You intended to just keep walking but he was in there alone and called out your name when he saw you.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone would be in the building today.” His bright eyes staring down at you made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest. You desperately needed to get it together.

“I came in to finish up a few things but I’m heading out now. What are you doing? I think you’ve watched enough film to last you a couple lifetimes.” That gets a light chuckle out of him and he shakes his head, the two of you knowing that his quest for perfection would never allow him to believe he’s watched enough film. “Thank you for shooting that video the other day. The fans are gonna love it, they’re always begging us to get you on camera.”

“No problem, anything for you.” He clears his throat after whispering the last part, desperately hoping that you didn’t hear it. Even though you definitely did. You should go home for the day and leave him alone in the office so he can get back to work. You should stop staring at his lips that look so soft and just begging to be kissed. He should turn around and get back to the playbook and the computer but here he is, standing still, right in front of you.

You’re just there, waiting for someone to rip the carpet out from under you, to fall on your face, for someone to tell you that this isn’t actually happening. The space between your bodies diminishes significantly, so much so that you can smell the Dr. Squatch Birchwood Breeze radiating off of him. It’s intoxicating and you swallow the fear in your gut and ignore all of the common sense thoughts plaguing your mind, allowing you to feel.

The kiss is tentative at first, he pulls back slightly, whispering if it’s okay to keep going as you feel his breath against your lips. You don’t respond but instead pull him in closer, hearing a satisfied husky moan from him as he allows your tongue access to his. His right palm rests against your cheek until he’s tilting your head up ever so slightly to deepen the embrace and he pulls you in even closer, holding on for dear life while closing and locking the door behind you. It was so much more than he imagined, these feelings that he’d been pushing aside were being confronted and magnified by the second. This innocent crush that you had on him were genuine, real feelings that created a deep ache in your bones, actively being soothed with his hands all over you as the two of you made out like helpless teenagers.

You didn’t think you’d have the strength to tear yourself away from him…until his phone rings. He ignores it the first time but it’s all you can think about by the fifth ring.

“Answer it,” you whisper breathlessly and you can feel him hesitating to pry himself away from you. The heat that was radiating off of his body that you felt being so close to him sends shivers down your spine at the sudden distance. A thousand unspoken apologies are painted on his face as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He keeps the call short and sweet but the look of devastation is clear when he hangs up. “You have to go don’t you?”

He nods. “I’m so sorry. We can—we need to talk about this I know. And I promise we will. I just—I need to take care of this.” He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. Even if he knows you understand. Justin presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers another “I’m sorry” leaving you in the room to think about what just happened.

You walk around the empty parking lot until you reach your car, letting out a deep sigh at the thought of what the conversation with him is going to look like after this. You need to be mentally prepared for good news, bad news and everything in between.

He is the sun after all. And sometimes when you stand too close, you might get burned. And maybe, just maybe, you’d avoid the burn altogether and bask in the warmth as long as you can.

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #Justin Herbert fanfic

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wren-kitchens · 2 years ago

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I DID IT I FINISHED IT WE WIN THESEE

uh anyway here’s a mumscarian christmas fic that was meant to be posted on christmas but I entirely misjudged how long I take to write fics lmfao

(i’m very proud that I did actually finish this, it’s been A While in the making)

no cws that I can think of, but ofc please tell me if you want me to add anything! (the end may be a bit rough, frankly I just wanted to finish the damn thing lmao)

“don’t you trust me to wrap anything?”

“no, I absolutely do not after last year.”

“oh, c’mon mumbo, you know it wasn’t my fault your tie got burnt.”

scar peers around the door upon hearing grian and mumbo’s conversation from the hallway.

“what’s this about mumbo’s tie?” he asks, before registering the sheer mess in front of him. “oh my goodness! it looks like a stocking threw up in here!”

there’s wrapping paper all over the floor, tape stuck to every ledges surface, candy canes strewn across the table, along with their discarded wrappers. a strong smell of hot chocolate fills his nose, and he wonders what on earth he’s missed.

“hi scar!” grian beams. “we’re wrapping presents- or should I say, mumbo’s wrapping presents.” he pouts. “he won’t let me.”

“yeah, because last year-“

“that was entirely unrelated!” grian protests.

“he put the wrapping paper next to a candle and almost burnt my base down.” mumbo tells scar. “‘luckily’ all that actually burnt was my favourite tie.”

“oh, i got you a new one.” grian says. “it’s your new favourite tie, you said.” he grins.

mumbo rolls his eyes, almost sickeningly fond, and scar thinks he knows why it’s his favourite. a little pang of jealousy tugs at scar’s heart. he ignores it.

“anyway, do you want to join us?” grian says. “i’m sure mumbo will ruin your fun as well.” he says, glaring jokily at mumbo.

“oh, don’t worry, I much prefer scar to you.” mumbo says, laughing at grian’s outraged squawk.

“scar come sit next to me.” grian says. “I like you more mumbo anyway.”

the heat in scar’s face is definitely more than the turned-up-too-much heating’s doing. “i’ll sit next to both of you.” he decides. he can’t tell if he’s imagining the excitement in their faces or not.

scar plops himself down in between the two. “there, now you’re both unhappy.” he beams.

“I wouldn’t say that.” mumbo mutters, so quietly scar is fairly certain he wasn’t supposed to hear.

he replies anyway. “oh, i’m so glad to hear it, mumbo.”

mumbo’s face turns a little pink, and grian grins at him.

‘you aren’t subtle.’ grian mouths.

“neither are you, g-man.” scar ruffles his hair, laughing as he squawks in protest. “you seem not to notice how I have superior hearing.”

“what, ‘cause of these?” mumbo taps the tip of scar’s pointed ears. scar feels himself go red. “mr elf.”

grian gasps. “oh! of course! you’re an elf!”

“I am not wearing a stupid hat.” scar says immediately.

“what, like cat ears aren’t a stupid hat?” grian says.

“hey!” scar pouts.

grian nudges his shoulder against him. “i’m only joking. you’re a very pretty kitty.”

“thank you, birdie.” scar puts an arm around grian’s shoulders.

“don’t call me birdie.” grian says halfheartedly. he shifts closer and wraps a wing around scar and mumbo.

“why not? it’s cute.” scar grins. “you’re cuteguy aren’t you? it’s on brand.”

“grian is very cute.” mumbo contributes. “scar is very pretty.”

“and mumbo is very handsome.” grian finishes.

“we might need some mistletoe in here soon.” scar jokes. both grian and mumbo blush.

“I bet mumbo wouldn’t trust me to put it up.” grian leans his head on scar’s shoulder and pouts at mumbo.

mumbo rolls his eyes. “you’re the one who burnt my tie, mate!”

grian makes a sadder face, and mumbo sighs. “it’s in the box with the tinsel.” he says before adding, almost as an afterthought: “scar make sure he doesn’t destroy the house.”

“on it boss.” scar gives him a mock salute. mumbo grins and returns to wrapping the gifts.

scar follows grian through to the other room, where he is rummaging through a large plastic box. when he looks up at scar, he has glitter on his cheek.

“i’m here to make sure you don’t burn the house down.” scar tells him, feeling a tad out of place.

grian grins at him. “no promises.”

“mumbo would kill you.” scar says.

“he would never let me live it down.” grian says, something fond in his voice.

scar feels himself smiling before he registers the action. “you two are gone for each other.”

grian blushes furiously, and drops the bauble he was holding. it bounces off the edge of the box and rolls across the floor. “scar!” he hisses.

“what?” scar says, voice innocent. grian glares at him. “oh, but c’mon, am I wrong?”

“you- well, partially!” grian says, indignant.

scar folds his arms, amused. “oh yeah?”

“yes!” grian exclaims, still careful to keep his voice quiet. “in case you haven’t noticed, he does not like me.”

“oh come off it.” scar scoffs. “he absolutely does!”

whilst scar already knew for a while that mumbo and grian loved each other, something inside him aches to have it confirmed.

“i’ve known him for,” grian pauses, frowning. “uh. a long time, at least. anyway, my point is that I know him better. and he just definitely does not.”

“well, i’ve had to deal with you two making goo-goo eyes at each other for years, and I can say he definitely does.” scar grins.

grian gives a small huff and turns back to rummage through the box. “you’re a hopeless romantic.” if scar didn’t know better, he’d say grian’s voice is affectionate.

“why’s the mistletoe in a box anyway?” scar moves from the doorway to peer over grian’s shoulder.

“it’s plastic.” grian supplies. “poisonous to cats.”

“and birds?”

from where he’s stood, scar can see a faint pink spread across grian’s cheeks.

“that might be another reason.” he mumbles. “mumbo got it last year.”

“mumbo-“

“yes, yes, I know.” grian says quickly.

“and you think-“

“I know, in fact.” grian says, standing up with the mistletoe.

scar smiles. grian has glitter in his hair now. “you’re really pulling off the sparkly look there, g.”

“what?”

“you have glitter all over you.” scar says.

grian huffs. “there’s glitter everywhere.” he says, ruffling his hair. a shower of sparkles floats onto the floor.

scar bites his tongue. ‘it makes you look even prettier’, he wants to say. he doesn’t; it’s not his place to say anything like that to grian.

“is that all of it?” grian asks.

“not quite.” scar chuckles. “you have some on your cheek.” he gestures on his own face. he wants to cup grian’s face and wipe it off with his thumb. he doesn’t.

grian brushes it off, and looks at scar expectantly. “gone?”

“yep.” scar says. it sounds too short, so he tacks on, “so, where’re we putting it?”

“above the door.” grian says. “there’s a hook there, so I don’t need to mess around with it.”

“can.. can you reach the door?” scar says, following grian back to the living room.

“yes!” grian says, his wings puffing up indignantly.

“no.” mumbo calls from the floor.

“I absolutely can!” grian protests.

to (dis)prove his point, grian stands on his toes and tries to tie the mistletoe’s ribbon onto the hook above the door. he is very clearly too short for it, but apparently determined to tie it himself, flapping his wings in case that might help.

“grian, I think you should get scar to help.” mumbo says.

“I can reach it!” grian is now trying to jump to tie it, unsuccessfully.

“sure you can, g, I believe in you.” scar jokes.

“scar, can you pick him up?” mumbo says. “this is painful to watch.”

scar wraps his arms around grian’s waist and hoists him into the air. grian gives a squawk, his wings puffing up again.

“scar!” he exclaims.

“c’mon, you can reach it now.” scar tells him, grinning.

“you- are- a- nightmare.” grian tells him, face flushed.

“i’m not putting you down until you put it up.” scar says.

“I hate you both.” grian says, but he reaches up and finally manages to tie the ribbon.

“there!” scar smiles, putting grian carefully back onto the floor.

“you suck.” grian is scowling at him, but scar can tell he doesn’t mean it.

“you’re very light.” scar notes.

“yeah, uhm. bird bones.” grian says. he’s avoiding scar’s eyes.

“well!” scar throws an arm around grian’s shoulders. “we can’t leave our moustached friend sitting on the floor alone, can we?”

“well, i’m actually finished with wrapping.” mumbo says, standing up.

“oh, wonderful!” scar beams. “we can make gingerbread men!”

grian and mumbo share a glance.

“don’t worry, they’re already baked.” scar says. “I know you two are atrocious at cooking-“

“rude.”

“fair.”

“-so I brought them to decorate!” scar says.

“arguably we’re worse at decorating.” mumbo says.

“speak for yourself.” grian tells him.

“ah, but the good thing about decorating cookies is that, no matter how bad you are, it’ll still taste good!” scar says.

“that’s lucky.” grian nudges mumbo.

“well come on, come on!” scar says, leading them into the kitchen. “I got a bunch of new cookie cutters recently, so there’s some of every kind!”

“oh, wow, scar.” grian says.

laid out on the countertops are three trays of gingerbread cookies. there really are some of every kind: gingerbread people, snowmen, santa hats, presents, holly, baubles, stars and mistletoe.

“I have frosting of every colour as well.” scar beams.

“how do you find time to do all this?” mumbo says.

“oh, I bake for fun.” scar says, moving to get the bag which has the frosting in. “it’s relaxing.”

“you have clearly never baked with grian, then.” mumbo says.

“hey! I am an expert baker!” grian protests.

“we’ll see about that.” scar grins, and holds out the piping bags. “choose your fighter.” he puts on a deeper voice.

grian rolls his eyes. “you’re a dork.” he says, taking the red bag.

mumbo smirks, nudging his shoulder against grian’s.

“what?” grian says.

mumbo mutters something in grian’s ear that makes him blush pink.

“shut up.” grian says, turning to the cookies.

“you didn’t deny it!” mumbo crows, grinning.

“observant as ever, mumbo.” grian says. “fine, yes I do. happy?”

“very.” mumbo says. his eyes don’t seem to agree; there’s a shadow of something like longing behind the teasing glee.

“this is not an understandable conversation.” scar says, beginning to work on a snowman.

“you’re just not on our level.” mumbo bumps his hip against scar’s. “not as smart as we are.”

“oh yeah, insult the guy who brings you cookies.” scar grins, pretending to take the trays away. “i’ll just be going then-“

“no!” mumbo grabs his arms. “i’m very sorry, you’re very clever and smart.”

“and..?” scar prompts.

“and very handsome.” mumbo smiles.

“thank you.” scar puts the tray down. mumbo’s hands are still on his arms.

neither of them move. scar’s heart is in his throat, and he feels a little like he could throw up as mumbo’s eyes drift to his lips. in a good way.

but, as scar remembers with a stab of guilt, he doesn’t have a say in this. he knows grian and mumbo like each other. scar isn’t about to get in the way of that because of some- childish whim.

scar takes his hands off the tray, and mumbo moves backwards. grian smirks at mumbo.

“you can shut it.” mumbo mutters, and grian laughs.

scar goes back to the cookies, keeping his eyes on the decorating.

he tries to ignore how mumbo is close enough for his hip to brush up against scar’s every so often, and how grian keeps giggling at mumbo’s attempts at frosting in a ludicrously sweet way.

“no, that doesn’t look a thing like him!” grian is saying. “you should know, you keep staring-“

“you’re such a hypocrite!” mumbo cuts across. scar can see him flushed pink out of the corner of his eye.

“I never claimed not to be.” grian says.

“alright, look- scar,” mumbo moves even closer, and scar looks up. he’s holding a gingerbread man, dripping with green, yellow and brown frosting. it looks like it could have a face, if you squint.

“yes?” scar says.

“do you think this looks like you?” mumbo says. grian is laughing behind him.

“hmm.” scar has to press his hand against his mouth to keep from joining grian. “well. it could be?”

mumbo pouts.

“oh, but it does look very nice.” scar is quick to amend.

“no it doesn’t.” grian says. “scar, for someone so mean about building, you sure are kind when it comes to icing gingerbread.”

“I give constructive criticism.” scar corrects him. “and mumbo needs all the support he can get.”

mumbo makes an offended noise, and scar laughs at it.

grian is grinning. “so if I made that-“

“I would let you know what a mess that was, yes.” scar grins. “he’s not the one who insists he’s ‘not a builder’ even after-“

“those are flukes!” mumbo protests.

“scientifically you need like, three tries at an experiment and if it’s the same result each time, you can consider it proven.” grian pipes up. “i consider it proven that you are a good builder.”

“agreed.” scar says. “you were officially a good builder after season eight, i’d say.”

“now it’s officially official.” grian nods.

“well, I mean-“ mumbo is pink again. grian laughs.

scar goes back to the cookies. he’s making good progress; if he could just get rid of the aching in his chest, he’d be on track for a perfect christmas!

however, the two people directly causing said aching do not want to leave him alone. and, maybe, scar doesn’t mind too much.

the ‘maybe’ turns into a ‘definitely’ as grian peers at scar’s cookies, resting his chin on his shoulder as he does.

“well hello there.” scar grins.

“how do you do that?” grian asks.

“years of practice, g-man.” scar tells him.

grian groans. “why does everything need��practice?”

“‘m afraid that’s just how it works.” scar says, voice embarrassingly fond. “not much you can do to cheese it. though, I suppose if anyone could it’s doc.”

“i’ll have to ask him later.” grian says.

“do you mean blackmail?” mumbo presses close to scar, who is starting to feel like he must be dreaming.

“noo.” grian scoffs, unconvincingly.

“do you just pester him to get what you want?” scar says.

“well, it works.” grian grins, wrapping his arms around scar’s waist.

scar’s face is burning, and he can’t seem to stop smiling as he works on the cookies.

“you’re a menace.” mumbo says to grian. “there, how’s this?” he holds up another gingerbread man, globs of red, black and light brown on this one.

“depends what it’s supposed to be.” grian says. “if you wanted a shapeless blob, you’re doing fantastic.”

“it’s supposed to be you!” mumbo pouts again.

grian cackles. scar might die. “i’m kidding, i’m kidding. you’re very talented mumbo.”

“too right I am.” mumbo says.

“alright, let me show you how it’s done.” scar says. he tries to reach over to the gingerbread men, but grian stays resolutely in place.

scar chuckles. “g, I need to get them.”

“you can get them.” grian says, not moving. if anything, he tightens his grip. “I can just also stay here.”

“you’re right mumbo, he is a menace.” scar says. “would you mind passing me a couple?”

“oh, but scar, you’re ever so comfortable.” mumbo says, putting his head on scar’s shoulder.

“oh my god.” scar buries his face in his hands, if only to hide how red he’s gone. “you two are as bad as each other.”

“i’m kidding, i’ll get them.” mumbo smiles.

grian mutters something that sounds vaguely like “suck-up.”

mumbo moves back over almost immediately, and scar starts to decorate the cookies.

“is that me?” grian asks.

“mhm.” scar says, now working on his jumper. if scar were to look up, he’d see grian sticking his tongue out triumphantly at mumbo.

but he hasn’t, so he doesn’t.

“how on earth..?” mumbo murmurs as scar pipes on the face.

“ta da!” scar smiles, and moves onto mumbo’s one.

“that’s so cool!” grian exclaims. “you’re so cool!”

scar feels himself blush. “why, thank you, g.” he pauses before asking, “is there any reason you’re both attached to me?”

“you’re warm.” grian explains, as mumbo says “penguins.”

scar stops, and looks up at mumbo. “penguins?”

“you know.” mumbo says. “they all huddle together for warmth.”

scar laughs. “alright, we’re penguins then.” he says, returning to mumbo’s cookie.

“don’t penguins propose by giving each other rocks?” grian says.

“they do.” scar nods. “they mate for life.”

“that’s sweet.” mumbo says.

scar doesn’t answer, focused on getting the tie just right. he hears grian laughing quietly next to his ear, and honestly that is not helping.

somehow he manages to keep the lines straight, and fills it in before asking grian, “what are you giggling about, mister?”

“you do this thing when you’re focusing.” grian says. “you stick your tongue out a little. it’s cute.”

“I feel like i’m being made fun of.” scar says, though inwardly he’s bouncing up and down, squealing.

“you know i’d never.” grian says.

“just for that, your giggle is cute.” scar shoots back. a moment after he’s said it, he realises it sounds less like an insult and more like a compliment.

“he’s cuteguy, I think that’s the point.” mumbo says. “to be cute.”

“and I do a very good job at it.” grian preens.

mumbo smiles. “you sure do.”

“done!” scar announces, looking proudly at the two complete cookies.

mumbo peers over scar’s shoulder, and gasps. “oh! dude!” he looks up at scar, beaming. “that’s so cool!”

“that’s what I said!” grian nods. “scar, you are a wizard.”

“oh, you say that now, but on last life-“ scar is cut off by grian laughing.

scar can’t help smiling. “so, as you two seem to prefer being penguins over decorating, shall we just eat these and watch a movie?”

“yes!” grian jumps back from scar, almost running towards the door. “you stay here, i’m gonna set it up. don’t come in until I say!” he calls from the hallway.

“looks like we’re doing that, then.” mumbo chuckles.

“what movie do you think he’s putting on?” scar says, getting out a large bowl and tipping the gingerbread men into it.

“oh, I know he’s putting the muppets christmas carol on.” mumbo says, moving to help scar with the cookies. “he loves that film.”

“it’s a classic!” scar says, and mumbo groans. “oh, don’t tell me you don’t like it!”

“I don’t dislike it,” mumbo says. “i’ve just seen it a million times.”

“all the more reason to enjoy it!” scar moves closer, and says in a low voice, “that, and you like the person who enjoys it that much.”

mumbo blushes scarlet. “what- where did you get that idea from?” he doesn’t really say it; it’s more of a squeak.

scar raises an eyebrow. “you wanna go there?”

“no.” mumbo admits. “okay, okay. just- don’t tell him? I don’t wanna ruin anything.”

“of course!” scar says, thinking privately that it would definitely not ruin anything at all. “but-“

mumbo groans.

“-he definitely likes you back.”

“he doesn’t.”

“who says?”

mumbo rolls his eyes. “i say. and so does common sense.”

“well, I say that he’s been making goo-goo eyes at you for years now,” scar nudges mumbo with his shoulder. “and what’s a more romantic time than christmas?”

“valentines day.” mumbo says, grinning as scar sighs in exasperation. “look, i’m not oblivious. for instance, I know you’ve been making heart eyes at him since at least boatem.”

scar almost drops the bowl. “whaat? noo, not at all!”

it’s mumbo’s turn to give the withering look.

“look, I know for a fact, that he does not like me.” scar says. his heart clenches as he says it. “and I am certain he likes you.”

“yeah, yeah, he totally wasn’t attached to you just one minute ago.” mumbo says.

“he’s just like that.” scar says.

“he’s not.” mumbo says. “he’s only ever done it to me before.”

scar pauses. “he’s been doing that since 3rd life, for me. I just thought he did that to everyone.”

mumbo smiles. “he once told me he does it to his ‘favourite people’. welcome to the club.”

“oh.” scar can’t hide the smile that’s found its way onto his face.

“you can come in now!” grian’s voice calls from the living room.

mumbo bumps his shoulder against scar’s. “come on. don’t wanna leave him waiting.”

and in scar’s chest, there’s something there, put there by soft smiles and gentle nudges and kind eyes.

scar already knew he’d been crushing on both of them for a while. but now..

well. now, scar is fairly certain he’s tripped and fallen headfirst into love.

so scar picks up the tray and tips the rest of the cookies in the bowl, making sure to place the gingerbread grian and mumbo on top, not bothering to hide his smile.

“if you don’t hurry up, i’ll start it without you!” grian tells them.

“we’re coming, we’re coming!” scar calls back, following mumbo down the corridor.

mumbo opens the door, and stifles a laugh as he sees grian. “you comfy?”

scar snorts. grian is wrapped up in at least three blankets, sat on the right hand side of the sofa, looking very pleased with himself.

“you look very huggable.” scar says as mumbo plonks himself next to grian.

scar follows suit, and sits on the left side of mumbo, putting the bowl on the side table.

“hang on, I need to test that theory.” mumbo says, and scoops grian up.

grian gives a shriek of laughter as mumbo half-lifts him into the air, then plops him back down onto the sofa, holding him like a teddy bear. if scar is mildly flustered over mumbo’s strength, that’s between him and the void.

“yep, very huggable.” mumbo concludes.

“mumbo!” grian squawks, also looking very flustered.

“good to know that tone isn’t reserved for me.” scar grins.

“it’s reserved for both of you, because you seem to enjoy lifting me up.” grian says, pointedly looking at scar.

“look, in 3rd life, you couldn’t see very far! if I lifted you up above my head—which I can because you’re very light—you had a better vantage point!” scar defends. “i was protecting us! and you won, so you’re welcome.”

“we won.” grian corrects. “and it was not because you put me on your shoulders.”

“it was definitely because I put him on my shoulders.” scar mutters to mumbo, who grins.

scar turns to the tv and sees-

“aha! mumbo, you were right.”

mumbo follows his gaze. “oh, muppets again?”

“it’s amazing!” grian says.

“it is surprisingly accurate to the original tale—narrator and all.” scar says. “I mean, of course there’s only one marley and it’s fezziwig not fozziwig, but essentially it’s incredibly similar.”

“whose side are you on?” mumbo says.

“i’m impartial.” scar says cheerfully.

mumbo rolls his eyes. there’s something fond behind the way he smiles, something that makes scar’s chest glow with warmth.

“okay! scar, did you bring the gingerbread?” grian says.

“that I did.” scar says proudly, passing the bowl down to grian.

“mumbo, you are sat on the remote.” grian says, taking the bowl.

“i wasn’t sat on it, I was sat next to it.” mumbo protests, handing grian the remote.

“thank you.” grian grins, and starts the movie.

“are you gonna share any-“

“shh, it’s starting.”

scar finds himself shuffling slightly towards mumbo as the opening credits start to play. he finds it harder and harder to hide his smile when mumbo pulls him closer, wrapping an arm around his waist.

scar learns that grian likes to sing along to the songs, and that his voice is kind of amazing. mumbo bends down and mutters something about ‘ariana griande’.

“is that who was vouching for sahara in season six?” scar asks.

mumbo grins. “yep. grian’s twin sister.”

“you mean, this whole time-“

grian shushes them.

“this whole time, your ‘celebrity’ sponsor was just grian’s twin??” scar whispers, affronted.

“yup.” mumbo says.

“well now I feel better about not having a celebrity sponsor.” scar says.

mumbo grins at him, then turns back to the movie. scar’s gaze lingers for a moment, before he copies mumbo.

scar is half asleep, now leant up against mumbo, when he feels a hand running through his hair. he looks up to see the man in question starting a braid, apparently not realising scar was still awake.

“what’cha up to?” scar smiles lopsidedly.

mumbo blushes pink and drops scar’s hair. “nothing.”

“you can play with my hair, if you want.” scar says. “I like it.”

grian mutters something to himself, looking away.

“what, are you jealous?” mumbo elbows him.

grian gives an unconvincing scoff. “no.”

“oh, g-man, you are!” scar exclaims.

“i’m not!” grian protests. “I have never been jealous in my life, and I can’t believe you-“

“g, do you want to play with my hair?” it’s not quite deadpan, but it was supposed to be.

“maybe.” grian is practically glaring at him, blushing.

scar laughs. “okay, i’ll- oh!”

scar gives a little yelp of surprise as mumbo picks him up, shuffles to the side, and plops him in the middle of the sofa.

if scar was flustered earlier, he’s verging on a heart attack now.

“you- you are very strong.” scar fans his face. yep, he’s definitely awake now. “how are you so strong?”

“sorry, i should have asked.” mumbo says, looking apologetic. apparently, he has mistaken scar being very much in love for discomfort.

“no, nope. it’s fine.” scar’s voice is higher than it should be. “it’s very fine. couldn’t be finer.”

grian is smirking at him.

“are you sure?” mumbo says.

“I am entirely sure.” scar assures him. “I am simply amazed and dazzled by your spectacular strength, mumbo.”

“ah, well, of course.” mumbo grins. “I mean, as you should be.”

“exactly.” scar smiles. “now,”

he shuffles down on the sofa, so his head is lower. grian makes a poorly stifled noise of excitement and immediately starts a braid.

“I love it when your hair is long.” grian says. “it’s so pretty.”

“aw, thank you, g.” scar says, trying and failing not to blush.

mumbo has gone back to running his fingers through scar’s hair. “agreed.”

scar is fine. he’s just watching the movie and isn’t feeling incredibly not-platonic feelings about his two best friends playing with his hair and is totally definitely fine.

“so, specifically why do you two like this movie so much?”

scar doesn’t answer, too busy being completely fine. luckily, grian answers for him.

“because it’s an amazing film! it’s a humorous retelling of a classic that barely strays from the original plot, andincludes the narrator in an involved way.”

scar hums in agreement. “and it has amazing songs.”

“and it has amazing songs.” grian nods.

“well, I can’t disagree with you there.” mumbo says.

“g-man, can I steal a blanket from you?” scar asks.

“you’re just gonna fall asleep.” grian pokes him in the shoulder.

“i’d never!” scar puts a hand over his heart, mock offended. “honestly, to suggest such a thing of me-“

about an hour later, scar is woken up by a loud noise that he can’t quite pinpoint. there’s hurried shushing, and scar cracks an eye open.

“I told you-“ mumbo starts, then glances down at scar and stops.

“well hello there.” scar says, voice still sleepy.

grian huffs a laugh. “was I right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” scar rubs his eyes, looking up at grian.

“you nightmare.” grian smiles at him.

“please, i’m a dream!” scar grins lopsidedly. “you love me!”

“he doesn’t love you enough to be quieter when I tell him you’re about to wake up.” mumbo says.

“oh, i’m so offended, g!” scar puts a hand on his chest dramatically.

“i’ve seen you sleep through everything!” grian protests. “I assumed you weren’t a light sleeper!”

“so you’re saying you’ve slept with me a lot?” scar smirks.

grian smacks his arm with the back of his hand, and scar laughs. “scar!”

“what? I was just asking a question!” scar says innocently.

“menace.” grian grins at him.

“scar, I can’t think of many people with a dirtier mind than you.” mumbo says, starting to braid his hair again.

“oh, you must have completely missed ren and doc last season.” scar says. “they put me to shame, I tell you.”

“I think i’m glad I missed them.” mumbo says. “you’re bad enough.”

“your tiny hat was the best part of the season.” grian says, cackling as scar protests.

“it was not tiny! I had a massive hat!”

“not at the start.” mumbo says, laughter in his voice.

“it was a very sweet little hat.” grian says.

“you guys suck.” scar says, heat in his face.

grian reaches a hand down and essentially cups scar’s cheek, tracing along his scars with his thumb. “your scars all stand out when you blush.” is all the explanation he gives.

“oh.” scar can’t really manage much else.

“scar,”

“mm?”

“why are you an elf this season?” mumbo asks.

“well, why were you all ‘peace love ‘n pants’ last season? it’s fun!” mumbo looks sceptical and scar adds, “and I know you guys like my hair.”

“I still think we should have made you wear an elf hat.” grian says absentmindedly, hand now running through scar’s hair.

“I still think we shouldn’t have given you control over the tv.” mumbo mutters.

“well, I think I shouldn’t have given grian the gingerbread bowl.” scar says. “are there any left?”

both mumbo and grian go quiet at that. but it’s not really the guilty kind of silence (though it is partially), it’s something.. almost embarrassed. shy, scar thinks.

“that’s a no.” scar decides.

“well,” is grian blushing? he looks like he’s blushing. “there are two left.”

grian’s hands move from where they were stroking scar’s hair to pick up the bowl. scar sits up to see the cookies that he decorated placed carefully at the bottom of the otherwise empty bowl—the ones of mumbo and grian.

“we, ah. didn’t want to eat them.” mumbo admits. “we felt bad.”

“aw, you guys.” scar grins, a rush of warmth in his chest. he wants to hold them close and never let them go. “you’re so cute.”

grian laughs and blushes, but mumbo looks even more nervous.

“I should. um.” he’s looking down. “I should tell you guys something.”

scar frowns. “are you okay?”

“do we need to hide a body?” grian adds.

“it- i’m fine, and. no bodies need to be hidden.” mumbo is speaking haltingly, like he’s trying to find the right words. “I just, um. well, i’ve been meaning to tell you guys something for- for a long time. but, I don’t know, I was scared?”

he looks up, and there’s something apprehensive behind his eyes. scar can’t help worrying—is he alright?

“scared?” grian asks gently.

“I didn’t know if i’d.. if i’d muck it all up, if I told you.” mumbo says. “and I honestly don’t know why i’m telling you now.” he gives a chuckle. “I suppose I don’t want to.. keep you in the dark, maybe.”

scar’s voice seems to be stuck in his throat.

“and, you know, avoid me until the day we die if I have mucked it up.” mumbo says, a touch of humour to his words. “but, um. I love you. both of you. a great deal, i’d say.”

scar might be gaping at mumbo, mind reeling. mumbo loves him, loves them. and all this time, scar was chiding himself for even hoping for this, for imagining something that could be-

mumbo clears his throat, and scar zones back in to see mumbo’s expression turned to something reserved and hidden. he doesn’t know, scar can’t believe it, he doesn’t know how much scar loves him.

“and based on your expressions, I have misjudged.” he chuckles again. but now it’s only to fill the silence. “sorry, I shouldn’t-“

“mumbo,” grian’s voice interrupts. “I love you too, you idiot.”

scar is suddenly aware with how much hope he had that grian might feel the same way about him, but of course he doesn’t, of course-

“and, um. well if we’re doing confessions, scar-“

scar looks over at him, chest full of an almost desperate want.

“I love you too.” grian smiles, nervous.

“oh.” scar breathes, and both mumbo and grian look- they look so nervous. “i- this isn’t a prank, right?”

mumbo manages a grin. “definitely not.”

“how- how long?” scar asks.

“god, scar,” mumbo half laughs. “season seven, at least.”

grian nods along with him, face flushed. “at least since the desert.”

“you mean- this whole time i’ve been worrying myself silly, and you-“ scar pauses, taking in the realisation. “you wanted me? too?”

“i- well, I don’t know if you’ve met yourself,” grian says. “but you’re a very wantable person.”

“um, to- to clarify, do you.. feel the same?” mumbo asks hesitantly.

“yes, of course i do! you two saw those cookies-“ he points at the gingerbread men. “-and didn’t realise? i’ve done my own fair share of staring, i’ll have you know.”

“you heard that?” mumbo looks mortified.

“well, i didn’t realise what it meant until right now, but-“

“oh gosh.” mumbo buries his face in his hands, and scar laughs. something unclenches in his stomach as he does.

“if it’s any consolation, mumbo,” grian is blushing as he says it. “I have also spent most of my time staring at both of you.”

“that- that arguably makes it worse!” mumbo’s voice pitches higher. “because now I know that every time I was like ‘no they can’t have been looking, I just want them to have been looking’, you actually were!”

“I cannot believe neither of you knew you liked each other when you basically almost kissed earlier.” grian says.

it’s scar’s turn to blush now. “you- wh- that was noticeable?”

“yes, it was noticeable, you spoon.” grian says. “why didn’t you? it’d have cleared this up faster.”

“well, I didn’t want to intrude.” scar says meekly.

“‘intrude’?” mumbo looks up, pink in the face. “on what?”

“you two, of course.” scar says. “I was under the impression that you two liked each other—because it was fairly obvious, I must say—and I didn’t want to get in the way!”

“you thought-“ grian splutters. “you- as if we- scar!”

“what? I didn’t know!”

“how?” mumbo half laughs. “we were attached to you at any given moment.”

“I just thought that’s how you were!” scar exclaims.

“I- well I guess, specifically around you guys.” grian says.

“you can hardly blame me then!” scar says.

mumbo grins. “it’s a shame you’re so handsome, scar, otherwise we wouldn’t have confused you by falling in love with you immediately.”

scar blushes and grian cackles.

“it’s so much better now you know.” scar says. “‘cause now you know i’m not just an idiot, i’m just an idiot around you guys.”

“ah, well, you’re our idiot now.” mumbo wraps an arm around his waist.

“doed that mean i’m allowed to kiss you?” scar says, looking up at mumbo from where he’s leant up against him.

mumbo turns beet red and stammers something before landing eloquently on, “you- I mean- definitely, yes.”

scar smiles, something gentle and smug at the same time, and presses his lips against mumbo’s. the kiss is short and chaste, but scar feels like his heart is going to burst all the same. his lips are soft and warm, and scar could just about die.

he moves back and laughs at mumbo’s incredibly flustered expression.

“are you alright?” he grins.

“very.” mumbo says. “very very alright.”

“I hope I get a turn soon.” grian says.

when scar turns to him, his cheeks are flushed and he looks almost shy, though determined.

“oh, of course.” scar winks, and moves closer.

grian is the one who closes the gap, and scar can’t help smiling into the kiss as he feels grian’s hand against his cheek. his chapped lips rub against scar’s, and he can’t help thinking the feeling suits grian remarkably well.

“I knew your lips would be soft, but jeez.” grian says when they move apart.

“right?” mumbo agrees.

“what do you mean you knew?” scar’s face is hot.

“it wasn’t just your eyes I was staring at, scar.”

“oh.” scar could explode.

“anyway, mumbo come kiss me.” grian says.

“gladly.”

by morning, the cookies are eaten, and mumbo has a newfound appreciation for the muppets after grian and scar took it in turns to kiss him every time he complained about the movie. they ended up sleeping on the sofa, sprawled across it, limbs and bodies tangled in the blankets, hearts intertwined.

the hermits delight in teasing them, grumpily exchanging diamonds they bet on who’d confess first—no one expected mumbo, to his indignance. the news spreads alarmingly fast to the members of the life games, who all are very happy for them and agree that mumbo was not the person they expected to make the first move.

(in the end, they put the plastic mistletoe to good use. but that’s not for the others to know.)

#mumscarian #redscape #mumscar #scarian #grumbo #why does mumbo/scar have two names I will never understand #no wait it has three #scarbo #when I get polls i’m gonna make one on which name ppl actually use and only use that one #anyway I love them #christmas #<-Very Late but shhhh #hoax writes #i’m actually so proud that I finished this omg #will be on ao3 later and probably more edited at that point lmao

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