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psychedelic-ink · 10 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ⸻ 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

⌜HOW MR. MILLER STOLE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST⌟

genre: enemies to lovers, romance, fake dating, minors dni

word count: 3.7k

chapter summary: hanging garlands around town goes horribly wrong when you decide to decorate one of the polls. luckily a stranger with a rather soothing voice talks you through it and helps you down. But much to your surprise, he doesn't seem to be a stranger at all but rather a reminder of the past you've been trying to escape from.

warnings: age gap, canon typical violence, reader having a fear minor fear of heights, some threats, a brief make-out scene at the end, drinking

**dividers by @saradika

Jackson is everything you never expected in such a cruel world.

It’s been only a week since your arrival, yet you already feel fully incorporated into the community. Tommy and Maria Miller had surprisingly taken a liking to you. Later on, you learned that, especially Maria, wasn’t that keen on newcomers. If you had to guess why she decided to take you in, it would be the fact that you were half-dead and a mile away from their doorstep. It was cold, very cold. You still remembered how the wind sliced against your cheeks. When you came to, you met Tommy Miller. His smile was genuine and vaguely familiar for a reason you couldn’t quite understand. He had shown you around, then led you to your new home.

A home. Something you’d thought wasn’t possible anymore.

Something that you would protect to keep, no matter what.

It was a bit rundown, but solid nonetheless, like most of the survivors. Despite being only one person, the home they provided had three rooms and two bathrooms. You felt spoiled. You’d told Tommy about it, he had just laughed it off saying that after everything you’ve been through you deserve a decent roof over your head.

The words had stung at the time. He didn’t know who you were or what you’ve done. Jackson was a small community so you knew that Tommy Miller had been somewhat involved with the Fireflies but not like you. Never like you.

You feel slightly nauseous thinking about it. Snow crunches loudly under your boots as you make your way to Tommy’s. It’s lonely not being able to talk, not being able to say what you’re thinking freely. Most of the time it just feels like you’re looking through the other side of the glass, never truly comfortable around people that you frequently conversed with.

Standing in front of the door you take a deep breath, your skin tickles as your lungs expand with crisp cold air and you smile faintly upon the exhale. It’s hard, but you shouldn’t be complaining. You don’t have to fight to stay alive anymore. You don’t have cuts and bruises, you’re not a soldier anymore—you’re free.

Your mind drifts off only for a second, to that day when you made your escape. You would’ve been dead if it wasn’t for the man who spared you. His vacant gaze is still vivid in your head, waking you from sleep from time to time.

You follow your first knock with a second one. Heavy footsteps reach your ears and the door opens with a loud creak. Tommy’s eyes shine bright as he sees you, a half smile tugging at his mouth. If you had to call someone a friend it would certainly be him.

“Hey there Pecan,” he says. “Ready for some decoratin’?”

“Can I get out of it if I say no?”

He scoffs, “Don’t be a baby. It’ll be fun.”

“How is labor fun?”

You grin broadly and upon seeing it Tommy rolls his eyes. Stepping forward, he closes the door behind him. “You’re the goddamn second person to tell me that, you know.”

“Who beat me to it?”

“My pain in the ass brother.”

The two of you walk to the back to get the garlands. Everyone in Jackson had pitched in to make them, including you. “I keep forgetting you have a brother. Why haven’t I seen him yet? Does he hate you or something?”

“I’d say the opposite,” he huffs, opening the door of the garage. It’s full of boxes with “Christmas” written in bold letters. Luckily you don’t have to deal with those today. Only the garlands. “He’s like a mother hen. Too overbearin’. His name’s Joel and if you decide on gettin’ a tree you’ll see his ugly mug.”

You doubt that anyone related to Tommy would be ugly but you decide to keep that to yourself. “Why is that?”

“Maria appointed him as Christmas tree farmer. You can imagine his joy upon hearin’ that.”

“All by himself?” you ask a bit surprised.

“Nah. He has a couple of helpers but they work in shifts, everyone is pitching in chopping down the trees and getting them where they need to go. You’re free to help him out if you’re so worried.”

“I’m not,” you say a bit too quickly when seeing Tommy’s grin. “It just felt a bit unfair for an old man.”

“He might be old but he’s a fuckin’ beast,” he answers, leaning down and picking up one of the boxes. You follow, you take two since garlands aren’t exactly heavy. “I’ve never seen anyone as resilient as him. Honestly, it scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

“You can say that about a lot of people here.”

“You’ll understand what I mean when you meet him.” He heads out the garage and so do you, both of you leaving deep footprints on the snow as you head to the heart of the community. “And do please call him old man in person. I wanna see the look on his face.”

“I’m not going to sacrifice my well-being so you can laugh at your brother, Tommy.”

“You disappoint me, Pecan.”

Damn, Tommy Miller and his stupid stupid garlands.

You have no idea how long it’s been since you started hanging them all around town. You and Tommy had split up, deciding that it would be faster. At the time it made perfect logical sense but now, as your heart rams into your chest while decorating one of the polls, you decide it was a stupid ass idea.

You’re not exactly scared of heights but you’re not a fan of them either. Every time the ladder creaks, you have a miniature heart attack. You’d feel much safer if Tommy were holding the legs, even though you know it wouldn’t help much if the damn thing collapsed. You hear the faint chatter coming from below. Some people staring as you wrap the stubborn garlands around the cylinder wood. You hate this. Hate it, hate it, hate it.

When you’re finally done and about to climb back down, you can’t move.

“Fuck,” you hiss loudly, knowing that no one can hear you. You glance down—big mistake. Your entire body freezes over, your fingers tight around the poll. You have half the mind to hug the damn thing. Your throat tightens and you look up. This is it, after everything you’ve been through, you’re going to fucking die while hanging fucking garlands—

A strong gust of wind blows, swaying the ladder side to side, a sharp scream rips from your throat, and this time you do hug the pole. You notice a small crowd gathering. Another blow of wind and the unstable surface ceases to exist, you barely manage to bring your legs around the poll.

Screams and shouts that don’t belong to you reach your ears and you hope no one got hit by the ladder. Oh god. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, sweat beading from every pore despite the cold.

“Slide down!” you hear someone shout. A man, you register. A man with a deliciously raspy and deep voice. “Just slide down damn it!”

“No!” you shout back. “It took me hours wrapping the damn garlands I’m not doing it again!”

A weak excuse but still valid nonetheless. If you slide down all that work it rook the town to make these things would get destroyed thanks to your body. And even if it doesn’t, the damn things would slide down with you. There’s no way you’re climbing back up here. At least not until hell freezes over.

“You’re gonna fall and the ladder is busted,” the man shouts back. “And from the quiverin’ of your legs, I don’t think you’ll last until Greg brings the other one!” You hug the poll tighter, he was right, your legs—especially your thighs—were about to give out. And as if he can read your mind, the voice shouts out once more. “I’ll hang the damn things myself and fix’em up, just slide your ass down before your legs fuckin’ give out!”

You’re starting to get a bit lightheaded. Adrenaline and fear make your breathing uneven and quick. The disembodied voice is right. If you don’t slide down now your body is just going to give up and you are going to crack your head against the ground. A sharp exhale parting your lips, you finally start sliding down. You loosen your limbs, groaning every time you feel the needles of the garland ripping away and presumably falling above the snow. Fuck. You hope the stranger is good with his hands.

“That’s it, atta girl,” you hear him say, ignoring the way your body slightly clenches at the praise. “Just go down, I’m right here.”

More voices start to reach your ear the more you go down. You hear the voice of a girl, “I would’ve died if that happened to me. Holy shit.”

The man grunts, “Now’s not the time, Ellie. Keep your opinions to yourself.”

By the time you reach the end, your breathing is ragged and you can barely feel your legs. The man who’s been talking you through it holds you gingerly from the waist and pulls you away from the poll. Your feet skip over each other and you end up tripping backwards, right into the stranger's chest. You feel the warmth of his breath tickling the back of your head as you both end up falling. His body breaks your fall, his large hands still holding you from the waist. A pleasant shudder runs up your spine and you find yourself relaxing.

The crowd inches closer, a worried clammer coming from all directions. However, all you can focus on is the girl standing right across from you. She’s wearing a thick coat, her hair in a neat ponytail. She’s giving you a curious look, she also looks amused.

Your brows furrow, the brown of her eyes familiar.

“You plannin’ on gettin’ off me sweetheart?”

You push yourself up, realizing you're still sprawled on top of the stranger. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you scramble to stand, muttering apologies. He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that sends a shiver through you.

"Easy there, no harm done," he says, getting up as well. The crowd disperses now that the crisis is averted, leaving you alone with the man and the girl, who's still watching you with that curious expression. “You a’right? That was quite a journey down.”

“I’m. . .” You turn towards him, still feeling disoriented, still feeling a bit shaky. You’re about to tell him you’re alright, and possibly thank him right after, but the words die in your throat. You hear the loud beat of your heart. Thud thud thud. The world is turning, spinning. You open and close your mouth, over and over again. His eyes meet yours. The same brown eyes you’ve seen in countless sleepless nights.

You don't forget the face of the person who determines your fate.

And in his case, you don’t forget the face of the person who spared you.

Recognition slowly flickers across his weathered features. It’s so subtle. His lips part ever so slightly, eyes in the midst of going wide but keeping his eyelids neutral. He blinks heavily and snaps his lips tightly shut. You do the same. Your mouth now a thin line as you take each other in.

Then you see the recognition, the surprise, turn into anger. You’re a brutal reminder of his past and what he’s done to get here.

“Joel,” the girl hisses, nudging him with an elbow. “Don’t be an asshole.”

You blink, eyes snapping to the girl. . . Ellie. . . the immune girl.

Despite her harsh warning, neither of you speak. You are eyeing each other like wild animals wanting to protect their territories. Your legs are still shaking, your body trembling. He looks different but at the same time not at all. There’s no blood on him, no weapons. And the vacant look you’ve grown accustomed to is now full of emotion.

No one notices Tommy until he’s standing next to Ellie, his chest heaves as he tries to gather his breath. His gaze fixed on you, “You a’right there pecan?”

You freeze once more. The familiarity you’ve always felt around him—

“He’s your brother,” you state. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as he nods. You feel sick.

“I’ve heard what happened are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” You’re not. Joel is still staring at you, taking in every detail. You take hold of yourself and force some emotion other than fear to flicker across your face. “I’m fine thanks to your brother, the ladder collapsed and I had to slide down,” you turn to Joel, ignoring the taste of blood in your mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The playful lilt in his tone was completely gone. Ellie jumps forward, quickly taking your hand, everyone except you misses the way Joel flinches, jerking forward. “I’m Ellie and this caveman here is Joel.”

You clear your throat, “Nice to meet you Ellie and. . . “ You meet his gaze once again and say carefully. “Joel.”

He doesn’t say a word as you introduce yourself. Thankfully Tommy whistles and all eyes turn towards the ruined garland and the pine needles scattered above the snow. “Fuck. It’s gonna take days to fix this.”

“We still have time don’t we Uncle Tommy?” Ellie asks. “Joel offered to help fix it and hang it.”

Tommy’s head snaps towards Joel, a lopsided smile stretching across his lips as he shoots him an amused look, “Did he now?”

Ellie’s look matches her uncle’s, “He did.”

“Well then,” Tommy says, slapping his brother’s back. Joel glares at him, his brows knitted tightly together. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

“We should go,” Joel says suddenly, grabbing Ellie’s arm and dragging her away. Both you and Tommy are left dumbfounded as you watch Ellie furiously waving.

“Nice meetin’ you pecan!”

“Good,” Tommy grins, prompting your sharp glare. “The nickname is catching on.”

Alcohol buzzes in your system, making you grin like a fool as you lean back against the makeshift bar, enjoying the sight of everyone dancing and laughing. After a boring meeting of who would be doing what during the Christmas season, everyone had rushed out to get the bonfire ready. Faint music hummed in the background. Festive songs you’ve hadn’t heard since you were a little girl. You only recognize the melodies since you were a kid when you last heard them, the lyrics you can’t quite remember.

You watch Tommy and Maria from the corner of your eyes, he had his arms wrapped snugly around her waist. They were happy. Deep inside you can’t help but be envious. You hadn’t met a lot of people since coming here, it was hard to make friends when you felt undeserving of the comfort you received.

Your skin tingles as you remember Joel’s hands firm against your waist. You’ve felt something before recognizing him. Something sweet and playful. But it was ripped away thanks to your intertwined past. He was death. You can’t forget that. You wonder if Ellie knew what he’d done for her, you wonder if Tommy knew.

Shaking your head you take another swig of your drink. All these thoughts were sobering you up. You can’t have that. You need to relax, to forget. But despite knowing that, a nasty feeling of worry brews in your gut. What if Joel tells them? What if he makes the case that you’re dangerous and did unspeakable things for the cause? Will Tommy and Maria throw you out then—or worse—kill you? Joel is Tommy’s brother after all. . . you. . . you are nothing.

There’s a flicker of movement and a ripple amongst the crowd, lifting your head you see Joel giving Tommy a quick hug. He says something to Maria, a greeting you assume, and you notice Ellie heading off with Dina. Your heart skips a beat. You should go home, or at least stop staring at the man but you can’t. He’s the one you’ve been thinking about ever since you left the damn hospital. It was his eyes you’ve seen the nights you were jolted awake from the horrors the world had to offer.

You can’t decide on what to do and because of that, you’re suddenly facing an icy cold gaze from him. His lips are downturned, shoulders raised. You think about smiling, maybe raising your drink but you decide it would only add fuel to the fire.

A minute passes, a minute that feels like an hour, and he finally rips his gaze off of you, turning to Tommy instead. He squeezes his younger brother’s shoulder and quickly disappears.

You feel an unwarranted rage at him leaving. Running away. And suddenly you’re on your feet, following him. You can see his footsteps in the snow. You’re not sure what you’re going to say to him but you have to say something. This is your home now too and he won’t be taking that away from you. You’re not leaving after finding some semblance of peace.

You follow the footprints to a narrow space between two buildings. You notice moss in the cracks of the wood. You frown. Where the hell is he? There isn’t any place else to go from here, it’s a dead end.

You turn on your heel, only to come to an immediate stop.

His expression is dark, a harsh sneer on his face that makes you stop. You remember the stories, the ones about the things he’d done to survive. You swallow thickly and take a step back, but he reaches out and shoves against the wall. You gasp as Joel’s arm presses against your throat, your back hitting the wall with a painful thud.

"You’ve got some nerve, showin’ your face around here," he growls, pressing you harder against the wall. You can feel his warm breath against your face, his forearms causing you to struggle for air. But you refuse to back down, refusing to let him intimidate you. You stare right back into his angry eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“Nothing,” you hiss. “I just wanted to talk to you, clear the air.”

“Clear the air of what?” he leans closer, your nose almost brushing. “You’ll leave right now.”

“No I fucking won’t,” you snap and claw at his arm. It’s getting harder to breathe. “Jackson’s my home too.”

His eyes narrow and he presses forward, fully cutting the airflow. There’s a vicious throbbing in the back of your eyes and tears gather in the corners. “I should’ve fuckin’ killed you when I had the chance,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You don’t know what to do, you can barely speak, only whimpers leaving your parted lips. You attempt to kick at his legs but he simply moves out of the way.

How can this be the same man who held you so gently before?

“Take this as a warnin’,” Joel loosens his grip, your lungs filling with delicious oxygen. “If I see you anywhere near Ellie—”

“Oi Miller, what the fuck are you doing?”

You should be relieved. You really fucking should. But seeing the panic flaring in his eyes, a similar emotion starts coursing through your veins. You both tense and you feel your skin growing taut over your body. Your eyes shift between him and the two friends standing. You recognize them, one of them is Marc, and the other Steven. Twins. Your eyes move gradually back to Joel, he meets your gaze, your eyes drop to his lips, a plan forming in your head—an ill-advised plan, but a plan nonetheless.

You kiss him.

You fucking kiss him.

The arm on your throat immediately drops and you fist the front of his shirt, pulling him closer until he’s flushed against you. His body feels solid against your own. Strong and tall. He hesitates, his lips still as stone. Not knowing what else to do to make it more convincing, you tilt your head, lick the seam of his lips, and moan absurdly into his closed mouth. Joel starts moving then. His hands trail down the sides of your body and grip your hips, squeezing as he moves his mouth.

Everything about the moment lingers. The kiss, the closeness, everything. His hands twitch and you find yourself rolling your body towards him, feeling the semi-bulge underneath his pants. When a second moan escapes you it’s not for show. Heat licks the base of your spine, your entire being screaming for him to come closer and closer and closer—

He stops. It’s sudden and cold. However, you take the hint and with a lazy smile turn to the men watching you with dropped jaws. Joel doesn’t bother to look in their direction, he’s still holding you, allowing you to use his shoulder somewhere to lean against. His grip on you is tight.

“Sorry guys,” you make an effort to slur your speech. “I might’ve had too much to drink and couldn’t keep my hands to myself. Love it when a man is a bit rough.”

You don’t know why but his grip on you instantly loosens. Both Steven and Marc look at you with utter shock.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Marc blurts out. “Get a room you two. There are families out.”

With that they both leave, grumbling to themselves something about young people you can’t quite catch.

When both of you are sure no one is near, Joel shoves you off of him. “What the hell was that?”

“A kiss.”

“Don’t fuckin’ pull that shit with me, people are gonna talk. They’re gonna think I can’t keep it in my pants.”

“Better than them thinking you were gonna kill me,” you say. “You should be thanking me for saving your ass,” you answer, trying very hard not to look down at the front of his pants. “Don’t worry so much nothing is going to happen. They’ll talk a day or two and then it’ll just blow over.”

He doesn’t seem that convinced, “Fine,” he grunts and you start to take your leave. Your mind is swirling with unidentifiable emotions. You need time to think. “I was serious, stay away from Ellie.”

As if you were the dangerous one here.

“Joel,” you turn to face him one last time for the night. Not prepared to see how his eyes were glossed over, the anger and hatred drained from them. He looks startled. “I’m not leaving my home.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction

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byechristopher · 11 months ago

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⠀

I hate you, too [pt.2].

– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT & ANGST.

PART ONE.

Author's note: HI, I finally wrote it. I originally made a poll but, the answer was pretty clear so, here it is. It was requested, by the way! I'll reply to the message because I forgot to put it here, thanks for the request, dear. Side note, I was listening to Never Lose Me – Flo Mili (during the smut part, obvi). Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: filthy smut, super super long, didn't proofread, rough smut, car sex, angst. That's pretty much it. Minors dni. Thank you.

It's been a week since the party I attended, the one where I encountered him.

My mind has been consumed by reflections on that night, so much that I haven't been able to do anything else other than that, except for work. While I assume he might not have dwelled on it, I can't help but wonder if he thinks about me – about the way we touched, the way I looked at him when he prepared to leave. When I didn't want him to leave.

I shake my head, realizing I can't continue this self-inflicted struggle. Accepting the ongoing intimacy with my ex was challenging enough, let alone having feelings that linger inside me, still to this day. I almost gave in that day, when I saw something in his eyes, something that said he still cared about me – mending my dress, that sweet kiss, his declaration of hatred, a reminder of our past. That we once hated each other and that's why we weren't together anymore. Or so we thought.

Deciding that just sitting here, mopping around and feeling sorry for myself isn't going to help at all, I get up determined to go outside and have some fun. No house parties, no hosts, no Chris, no nothing.

My friends are already up for it (and I love them for it), because it only takes ten minutes for them to come over so we can get all dolled up together. It's a few minutes past midnight and we're finally ready (okay, we did have a few pre-drinks then and there), so we immediately call a cab. We reach our destination just a few minutes later and after greeting the girl that was at the entrance of the club, she lets us in and we get lost in the crowd.

You know how it goes; flashing lights everywhere, people kissing and drinking, almost pitch black all around. Looks like clubs aren't that different from house parties after all. A group of friends offers to buy us drinks, and who are we to say no (there's no way we're dancing with any of them, but it's fine) – we're already having the time of our lives, we're drinking, we look amazing, everything seems possible.

Except for the impossible.

Because there's no fucking way Chris happens to be in this same club; I completely lose the ground beneath my feet. I want to turn my back to him, I really do. But at the same time I want him to see me again. I want to see him again.

My friends notice where I'm looking and they know better than to say anything – so they just leave me be. Chris notices me as well and everything stops. Not again. I hope he doesn't come here but deep down I'm praying he does.

"Never had a bitch like me in your life.."

What is it with me, Chris and songs that we both used to like (and have sex while listening to them)? He's looking at me, and I can feel his intense gaze once again. As he drinks something, for a moment, I wish I could see this sight up close, look how his tongue touches the glass. Fucking hell.

Me and my girlfriends sway to the music, letting every beat ignite a playful dance between us. As we keep each other close, the music wraps around us, and for a moment I forget about him. Lost in the rhythm, we surrender to the dance, singing along.

He's here. Well fuck.

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me closer to him – I can't help but roll my eyes, turning around to look into his blue ones, holding my own drink close to me.

"How dare you interrupt my dance?" I yell in his ear so he can hear and he smiles.

"I stayed to watch you for a bit before I approached and interrupted your dance. You were just too irresistible, damn." as usual, he has a big smirk on his face and I just want to slap it off his face.

His arm stays on my waist and I can't find the strength to push it away – his hand roams around my naked back thanks to my dress, not that I'm complaining. He leans in to wrap his lips around my straw, tasting my drink while looking at me.

"Tastes much better with that lipstick you're wearing.." he teases and licks his lips, "..bet you love it even more when it's around my dick." his gaze darkens and my legs shake a little.

"What a shame you'll never see it on you ever again." I give him a sarcastic smile and push him gently with one hand.

"You sure about that?" his lips are touching my ear and again, I hate myself for letting him have such an effect on me.

"Yes. I don't like sharing my lipsticks." I raise a challenging eyebrow, indirectly asking him if he's been fucking anyone else besides me – because if that's the case, I feel like I will completely lose myself.

"Mhmm.. you're already thinking about other girls sucking my dick?" he tilts his head with an innocent-like look on his face, "..jealous about it?" his thumb rubs my bottom lip and his smile returns.

My blood is boiling to say the least, but I know him way better than to show that. So instead, I smile, "I don't have time to think about your dick, baby. Someone else makes sure I don't." take that.

No one. Absolutely no one can make me stop thinking about him in general but I had to say something. Otherwise I might just start crying.

Something shifts in his eyes and I internally high-five myself for achieving to make him jealous once again. He leaves. What? He literally just lets me go and goes back to where his friend group is, turns his back on me and everything. Well, shit.

I'm more than jealous but I want him way more than our egoistic bullshit; I'm shameless, I want him.

I move swiftly through the crowd, desperately trying to find him before i change my mind – and I do find him. He doesn't really expect to see me there but he does and he smiles. I quickly wrap my fingers around his wrist this time, dragging him with me like he did in that house party the previous week. Safely, I lead us out of the club, making sure to not answer any of his questions.

Once he realises that I'm not speaking to him until we reach the car, he stops talking and simply follows me. We finally get into the car and I start the engine.

"Do you realise how crazy that was?" he finally says, he really didn't expect me to just do that.

"I thought you liked crazy." I smirk this time and he huffs, licking his lips and leaning back against the passenger seat, making himself comfortable.

Once I make sure we're somewhere where no one will be able to see us, I immediately stop the car, lock it and I practically jump on him, straddling his thighs. His hands immediately grab my hips, his mouth hungry, searching for my lips and his eyes even hungrier.

"You drive me fucking crazy." he almost growls as he quickly rides up my dress, exposing the rest of my thighs and panties.

I undo his shirt with shaky fingers, leaving it on but making sure I have access to his naked body. I almost attack his skin with hungry kisses and love bites as he keeps himself occupied with my butt, kneading and smacking the skin every now and then.

I wrap my lips around his nipple and now my lipstick is long gone – his moans fill the car, fogging up the windows as I continue sucking on his sensitive nipple. He pushes my panties to the side from behind, his finger traveling from my ass to my pussy, rubbing the entrance and collecting all of the juices. I can't help but moan against his skin. With his free hand, he grabs a fistful of my hair, tugging at it to make my head fall back – with my neck now exposed, he finds the opportunity to attack it with his kisses and bites. In the meantime, I unbuckle his belt, moaning every time his teeth sink into my sensitive skin.

His finger keeps teasing my wet entrance, but his other hand finally lets go of my hair and I immediately lean in to kiss his lips hungrily. As I sit up as much as I can, I push his pants down with a bit of his help, doing the same with his boxers as I start rubbing his cock.

"You must be very loyal to that other guy, hm?" he chuckles and wraps his hand around my throat.

"Your other girlfriends haven't been able to satisfy you, it seems. You're about to cum already..." I click my tongue, completely avoiding what he said to me, "..either that, or you're still obsessed with me.." I whisper, grinding down on his dick as he keeps grabbing me by the throat, "do you think they'd like that?"

He chuckles, moaning as soon as he feels the warmth and the wetness of my pussy, "do you think your little bitch will like it when he sees the marks I left for him?" he whispers, tightening the grip around my throat.

I groan, realising my neck must be all bruised up already. This fucking asshole.

Grabbing his dick again, I lower myself down on it as we both moan in unison – he immediately hugs me, his warm fingers digging into the skin of my back as I start to finally move.

"Fucking hell.." he whispers, his face buried in my neck as his hands cup my ass cheeks, guiding me up and down on his cock.

"Fuck.. Chris.." I moan loudly, one hand around him and the other one pressing against the car window, leaving a mark behind.

"Baby.. like that.." he mutters and I can feel myself clenching around him as soon as he calls me that.

He takes my breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently and kissing them with every chance he gets. I can feel him throbbing and I know it is almost time.

He immediately licks his fingers and presses them on my clit, making me stop my movements and tremble, my eyes roll to the back of my head.

"Don't stop. Keep going." he orders and I do exactly that. My burning thighs don't make it easy, especially in his goddamn car, but I don't care. As soon as I start moving up and down his dick again, his fingers start moving.

"Chris.. Chris, please.." I moan, gasping every time he picks up the pace. My breasts bounce with every movement, both of my hands now are on his shoulders supporting myself as I feel myself getting closer and closer.

"I wanna feel it, cum on me." he moans and his touch on my clit becomes as gentle as it can, and that's when I lose it. Once I come down from my high, he pulls out and cums all over my belly, almost shouting my name as he squeezes his eyes shut and grips my hips so hard that I'm sure it'll leave bruises behind.

It takes a while for me to start breathing normal again – and at the same time, I was afraid of what was going to happen when all of this stopped. But for now, I am trying to live in the moment as much as I can; he holds me in his arms tightly, I can feel his heartbeat and his breath tickling my hair, and I can swear I feel his fingertips caressing my back, drawing invisible circles on the skin.

I almost want to cry as he holds me close, I am so overwhelmed with emotions I didn't know I still had in me, that my hands start shaking.

"There's no one else. Only you." I whisper against his shoulder, my cheek pressed against it.

He takes a moment to respond, but he eventually does, "no other lipsticks for me either. Only yours." he whispers back.

This is what happens all the time ever since we parted ways – I call him, we have sex. He sees me outside, we have sex. We are ruthless, merciless, ready to tear each other apart without thinking of the consequences. So when we're finished, and all the hatred and lust is gone, what's left is two vulnerable, broken hearts and a love for each other that once existed.

I don't know how to react at his words. I feel relieved but I also feel angry, I feel hurt. Everything all at once.

"Come on." he says and makes me lean back against the dashboard. He grabs some baby wipes he keeps in his car and starts cleaning up my belly, my thighs, everywhere. He cleans himself up as well and throws them away in the little bin inside the car. He fixes my panties and my dress as well (as much as he can).

He tries to make me get up, but I stay in place. He looks at me but I don't move an inch, "can I ask you something?" I muster up the courage to ask.

"What is it?" he sighs, he knows something heavy is coming.

"Why are you so cold all the time?" he furrows his eyebrows at my question, and he looks like he is about to say a million reasons why what I just asked was stupid, "..so cold, playing it cool all the time, as if nothing happened." I say and I almost regret it.

"Are you fucking serious? What did you expect? You broke up with me, yet you still wanna have sex with me. Do you want me to be all lovey-dovey with you?" he narrows his eyes and I bite the inside of my cheek.

He's correct – what did I really expect? I vividly recall the day I ended our relationship; he was devastated, it was like something shifted within us since then. I was devastated, too. But the decision to break up felt necessary and inevitable. Our hectic schedules kept us apart for days on end. And being the jealous toxic assholes that we both are, this never ended well; it drove me nuts, I had to end it. However, ending the relationship doesn't mean my love for him ceased; on the contrary, I'll never stop loving him. And as for the sex.. well, it's pretty self-explanatory; he's the only one who knows what I like and what I don't. His touch is the only thing I knew for years. And that was the only way I could be close to him. I might've regretted that decision. Might've.

"No. But I would at least expect you to be respectful towards me, we were together for so long." I look down at my trembling fingers, there's pain in my voice.

"Yeah, well, do you know what else would be respectful? You, owning up to the decision you fucking made for the both of us." he's staring into my eyes, "when you break up with someone, especially when you've been with them for a long ass time, you don't go back to them. No matter what the situation is. That's what's respectful. But can you handle that?"

I don't know what to say. And I hate the fact that he's right – I know I fucked up.

"I don't think I can handle that, no." I say truthfully, my voice feels small and now I feel small too, in front of him.

"Yeah, well, that's your fucking problem now." he leans back against the passenger seat and clears his throat.

"Why do you come back?" I whisper, fearing the answer.

"You said it yourself that day. It's the only way to have you at the moment. And I'm taking it." now there's pain in his voice, "but do you realise how toxic that is? That's draining us way more than our schedule did." he runs his fingers through his hair and looks out of the window.

"So what are we supposed to do?" I ask. I feel so dumb.

"As I said. Own up to your decision. I never wanted to break up with you, which is why I never did. You should be the one who stops any contact between us. Not me. If I could, I would, trust me on this one." there's an emptiness in his eyes that I can not quite comprehend what it means. It doesn't let me see through him like I usually do.

"Chris.. damn it, I can't." I whisper, tears fill up my eyes but he's not having any of it.

"No, fuck off. You're fucking selfish." he's getting angry now, the vein in his neck is popping out, hands turning into fists and his knuckles turning white.

Fuck. It seems like everything I say is wrong. I want to just scream and cry and run away.

"I am not selfish, Chris. I am stupid.." I can't stop the tears that fill up my eyes, "..I never wanted to end things with you, I promise. I thought that.. that was the only way for us to calm the fuck down.. we were jealous, and crazy, and toxic." I let my hands fall on his lap.

"And what we're doing now is not toxic? How do you think I feel coming back to you after you broke up with me, just so we can fuck and tell each other we hate each other?" his jaw is clenched and his eyes are turning lighter. He's about to cry.

"I am sorry, Chris. I cannot imagine that, no.. I just.. I made a mistake.. and I am deeply sorry. I am paying for it as well.. this whole time, I really thought you just didn't care.. otherwise I would've made a move way sooner." I explain as much as I can, I am fully crying now.

He's holding back as much as he can – he collects me in his arms for yet another comforting hug when he notices I practically can't breathe, "first of all, breathe for me, okay? I need you to be calm so we can solve this." he rubs my back soothingly and my heart almost jumps out of my chest, because that's exactly who I fell in love with. That's the Chris I knew.

He does make me calm down way faster than I thought. I wipe away my tears and collect a single tear that left his eye as well.

"I love you. I always will." I whisper, cupping his cheeks.

"You know I love you too." his voice is very low, "I cannot stop loving you."

"Do you want to try again?" I whisper timidly, "I will try my best to make you trust me again." I say and I mean it.

"Pretty girl.." he mumbles, grabbing my chin gently, caressing it, "..you better try your hardest, hm?" he whispers and I nod like a little kid, "I promise to make more time for us, we deserve it. You deserve it."

⠀

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jessequinnfirstofhername · 8 months ago

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What is the story behind Codywan? I don't know anything about this ship that's dominating the poll!

I don’t think I’m the right person to ask. I’m not anti-Codywan or anything, I just know nothing about the ship.

However @creativside did a really good explainer in the replies of Round Nine. I’ll copy + paste it here:

Caveat: I don't ship it, but I don't ship-shame and I get the appeal. So imagine there are these two people, thrown together in a really awful war. They fight side by side, both responsible for leading others into dangerous and sometimes certain death situations. Everyday is very frightening, every day coukd be their last. One of them has magic powers, he's basically a superhero, constantly putting himself at risk to protect (more coming )

2/ the other and his men, though they were all told they're expendable. He always, *always* uses their chosen names. In spite of all this power, the magic one is constantly dropping his magic sword, and so the field officer is always keeping an eye of out for it. They often brush hands when he passes it back. They often share cramped sleeping quarters where they don't sleep much, kept awake by war. They keep each other alive, (one more)

3/ remind each other to eat, and are always looking for ways to show the other they care, since every day could be there last. Of course, it's a love that can never be. Good soldiers follow non-fraternization orders, good Jedi follow the Code of non-attachment.

If any Codywan stans want to add their two cents, I’d love to hear from you!

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #codywan #best star wars ship #jesse’s star wars confessional #??? maybe

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badass-queer-couples-battle · 1 year ago

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Propaganda:

For Orufrey: "They're tragic wlw who have devoted their lives to each other since they were kids. They live together, they cook together, they're raising four girls together and they're doing the best they can. Olruggio would do anything for Qifrey if Qifrey would just Let Him 😭 but Qifrey is dead-set on protecting Olruggio and keeping him safe and in the dark no matter what it costs... i cant 😭..."

"Man I don't know they just have the vibes. They have toxic yuri energy but they are two grown men. They've known each other since their apprentice days and have stuck together ever since. Qifrey's main magic type was something he took up because Olruggio proposed that he learned to control the water he feared. They live together away from most of society with Qifrey's four apprentices, living the sapphic cottagecore (ateliercore???) dream. Qifrey, due to the fact that his eyesight is very much failing, something which is very problematic when it comes to witches, who need their eyesight more than most, is getting very desperate to get all he lost to the Brimhats, the witches who took one of his eyes and his memories, and Olruggio ends up noticing this pursuit and is implied to have done this more than once. Qifrey does not want Olruggio to know about both his failing eyesight and his goals, so he ends up completely wiping Olruggio's memory of those things, and laments that Olruggio is a kind person, and one who would most likely forgive him again, but also one who would try to save him, even when he didn't want to be saved. He also apologized right up until the moment Olruggio's memories of his secret were gone. In general I think chapter 40 is the somewhat toxic guy yuri chapter ever. I'm very tired so I do not know how to explain any of this, I just thought "wow Orufrey reminds me of this one poll I saw on Tumblr" and then spent three days straight hunting for your blog before completely forgetting my reasoning for Orufrey being yuri right before I submitted this."

For Joongdok: "Well first of all Yoo Joonghyuk has a whole arc that is transfem coded as hell (has a power/technique that can technically only be used by women but somehow he can also use it, for a time he even turns into a woman to wield it and it's. Actually just let me get the quote "The ines of the face had changed but it was clearly Yoo Joonghyuk. No, it was even more than before.") that just kinda happens,, and doesn't get brought up again but anyway. Second of all just look at them. You see the vision. Also a bonus observation is that these two often get shipped in a poly ship with Han Sooyoung and whenever I see people make a "regular couple, yaoi couple, yuri couple, I see no difference love is love" meme with them the combination of which pair among these three is which of the categories is always different"

Note: This submission also mentions Han Sooyoung, but I decided to count this polyship submission as guy yuri as well.

"They love each other, they pretend they don't care for each other but all their actions prove they care too much, if you remove someone from the trio then the resulting duo is extremely dysfunctional, as evidenced by more than a million words of canon. Is it technically guy yuri? Well, Han Sooyoung is a woman, but in a way she's one of the guys. Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk are men, but the text heavily hints that Yoo Joonghyuk is a trans woman who's just too busy and stressed out to transition yet, and Kim Dokja has just never thought about his own gender a single day in his life. They made the world for each other, they went back in time countless times and waged countless wars for each other, they wrote and read and lived a story, their story, for each other and that's what saved them all. The way Han Sooyoung writes Yoo Joonghyuk's story to save Kim Dokja and loses herself in the process, the way Yoo Joonghyuk voluntarily lives the story to the point of losing himself too and even forgetting why he originally decided to do it, the way Kim Dokja read Han Sooyoung's story which was Yoo Joonghyuk's life and that's how he found himself, they all took so much from each other and gave so much of themselves to each other, this is all very yuri."

"they're so yuri you have no idea. they have every staple of a yuri ship. unwavering devotion. waiting dozens or thousands of years for each other. dooming themselves and the world for each other. so much yearning. i also see them genderbent a lot (including inn canon in the case of yjh) and they're right both of these people are women. i genuinely can't even see them strictly as men at this point they're just yjh and kdj and they are yuri do you understand."

"they're so yuri. the abscense of yuri is the presence of yuri etc etc. these two guys are all ABOUT abscenses. also one of them is a part time woman. the other guy is a guy but like in the same way a square is a rectangle. anyway they're so guyyuri to me. bonus points also because they have a mutual girlfriend and when she's present they're girlyaoi but that's not relevant to this specifically"

#guy yuri round 2 #orufrey #joongdok #witch hat atelier #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #wha #olruggio #qifrey #yoo joonghyuk #kim dokja

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ohdorothea · 9 days ago

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This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info here! Lyrics for the songs and FAQ under the cut!

Sparks Fly lyrics

The way you move is like a full on rainstorm

And I'm a house of cards

You're the kind of reckless that should send me runnin'

But I kinda know that I won't get far

And you stood there in front of me, just close enough to touch

Close enough to hope you couldn't see what I was thinkin' of

Drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down

Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

My mind forgets to remind me you're a bad idea

You touch me once and it's really somethin'

You find I'm even better than you imagined I would be

I'm on my guard for the rest of the world

But with you, I know it's no good

And I could wait patiently, but I really wish you would

Drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down

Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild

Just keep on keepin' your eyes on me

It's just wrong enough to make it feel right

And lead me up the staircase, won't you whisper soft and slow?

I'm captivated by you, baby, like a firework show

Drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk (Ah-ah), take away the pain

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down

Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

And the sparks fly

Oh, baby, smile

And the sparks fly

🫶🫶🫶

If This Was A Movie lyrics

Last night I heard my own heart beating

Sounded like footsteps on my stairs

Six months gone and I'm still reaching

Even though I know you're not there

I was playing back a thousand memories, baby

Thinking 'bout everything we've been through

Maybe I've been going back too much lately

When time stood still and I had you

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You would, you would if this was a movie

Stand in the rain outside 'til I came out

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You could, you could if you just said you're sorry

I know that we could work it out somehow

But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

I know people change and these things happen

But I remember how it was back then

Locked up in your arms and our friends are laughing

'Cause nothing like this ever happened to them

Now I'm pacing down the hall, chasing down your street

Flashback to the night when you said to me

"Nothing's gonna change, not for me and you

Not before I knew how much I had to lose."

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You would, you would if this was a movie

Stand in the rain outside 'til I came out

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You could, you could if you just said you're sorry

I know that we could work it out somehow

But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

If you're out there

If you're somewhere

If you're moving on

I've been waiting for you

Ever since you've been gone

I just want it back the way it was before

And I just wanna see you back at my front door

And I'd say

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You would before you said, "It's not that easy."

Before the fight, before I locked you out

But I take it all back now

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You would, you would if this was a movie

Stand in the rain outside 'til I came out

Come back, come back, come back to me like

You could, you could if you just said you're sorry

I know that we could work it out somehow

But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

You'd be here by now

It's not the kind of ending you wanna see now

Baby, what about the ending

Oh, I thought you'd be here by now, whoa

Thought you'd be here by now

🫶🫶🫶

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!

If you’d like to send in interpretations or propaganda for a specific song you can send them to my inbox! All interpretations are welcome and let’s be open and kind in response to all interpretations <3

#tsqst

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2-sleepy-for-this · 2 months ago

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The Size of a Hug pt.1

Hey lovelies! It’s been a while since my last fic post-

Well, here’s that rich teen with a size shifter bodyguard idea written out, courtesy of @brick-a-doodle-do for the groovy inspiration! (And I’ve decided to make this a multi chapter thing too)

Also I totally didn’t just realize I made the bodyguard’s name ‘Raider’ instead of ‘Raiden’ like the poll said—

Anywhoo, I guess Raider it is then… welp… here’s the fic!

Word count ~ 1.5k

tw ~ kinda bratty teen, mention of killing people, smidge of conflict, unintentional fear play

Salem groaned internally as he thought of what awaited him for the next few months. It had already been a boring past few days. His parents had paid some big, serious guard to watch his every move. Not that he needed to be babysat. The teenager thought of himself as mature enough to not burn their mansion down.

That didn’t stop his parents from never trusting him. Or caring about him.

Salem was surprised when they had told him a personal bodyguard would accompany him everywhere while they traveled who knows where and left him alone. During the first few days, he despised this guy, taller and intimidating, and often tried slipping away from under his guard.

Salem still did this, just less than before, after realizing that this guard, Raider, was freakishly good at tracking him down. He would find Salem in under fifteen minutes every time without fail.

The teen had a feeling that his skills, along with his odd scars and intimidating demeanor, were a result of him coming from the CIA or something equally as crazy. Leave it to his parents to get him a babysitter that has probably — most definitely — killed people.

It had now been about a week since his overly serious warden had shown up, and the week had not been easy. Granted, Salem often prided himself in making things purposefully difficult… but this was just awkward.

Having a bodyguard, specifically this one, meant doing whatever was deemed safe around the house while a guy easily a foot taller than him loomed over his shoulder, silently watching him. Even when Salem would attempt to engage in small talk — a thing he hated — it would be met with that tense silence.

He knew his guard could speak. Raider had spoken to his parents before they left and would occasionally remind him of whatever homework or activity he was meant to be doing. However, any other time was like talking to a brick wall.

————————————

With a pointed side eye, the teenager stood from the dining table after picking at his breakfast. It was hard to keep an appetite while being stared at. Instead, he opted to walk over to one of the various television rooms of the house, knowing he’d be followed close behind.

Flopping down onto the couch, he flipped through channels on the large screen. Eventually he settled on a movie he had seen a couple times before, starting the movie as he saw Raider just standing behind the couch, looking at him.

It sent a shiver of unease down the teen’s spine for some odd reason. Being watched after spending years out of his parent’s gaze was jarring, like whiplash every time he thought he was alone.

Soon, it was very hard to focus on the movie. Salem could only feel Raider's eyes on the back of his head like some kind of horror movie killer, silently waiting behind him for a moment to strike. Even though he knew Raider was paid to do the exact opposite, he still felt exposed.

With a sigh, Salem turned around to face the guard with a glare that was too nervous to seem at all threatening.

“Are you going to keep staring at me like that all night? It’s all you ever seem to do, anyway.”

Salem crossed his arms expectantly, waiting for something other than the quiet looks.

“Last I checked, that was the job.”

Raider’s tone was sarcastic, his voice sounding rough like he hadn’t used it much, which wasn’t a surprise. Salem was almost shocked by the remark, the audacity of sassing his charge. Immediately, he became defensive.

“Well, maybe I just want something called ‘privacy’, have you heard of it? Look, your staring is unsettling and I can’t relax. Go be a guard elsewhere if you must.”

“No can do… I was paid to watch you, so might as well get used to it, kid.”

The nickname was completely unappreciated by the teen, who looked very ticked off at being told no. Unfortunately, there was no denying Raider’s statement, as it was true. It was unfair, but Salem could tell that no amount of words and arguments would sway this no nonsense watchman.

“… Fine, just… at least sit on the couch, act like a normal person.”

At the mention of the word ‘normal’ it seemed that for the briefest moment Raider bristled slightly. Salem wasn’t even sure if he’d imagined it or not, but regardless, it went as soon as it came.

Raider walked to the other side of the couch and sat, back straight and unrelaxed, but at that point Salem didn’t care as long as he didn’t have someone so tall looming behind him.

They both sat like that on the couch for the duration of the film, wasting a couple of hours, not that Salem was in a rush to do anything else that day.

After the movie’s end, he got up and stretched his limbs with small cracks and pops from joints. The spoiled boy hadn’t bothered to look at Raider as he walked out of the room, knowing that he’d just be followed inevitably anyway. He made his way to his room and stood in the doorway facing Raider once more.

“You aren’t allowed in my room. I don’t care what my parents said.”

Then he not-so-gently pushed his door shut. Well… he tried to at least because right as it was about to close, it hit something.

Looking down, Salem saw the guards shoe in the doorway, blocking it from shutting all the way. He glared at the man, but Raider simply looked back at him with indifference.

For an uncomfortable five seconds, they stared at each other. Then, slowly, Raider closed the door all the way with a sigh.

The teen smirked, having won that battle despite it being a small victory.

————————————

As Salem relaxed in his room doing whatever rich sheltered kids did, Raider walked down the hallway.

He was slightly annoyed that the kid decided he was going to wait outside despite orders from his parents to have him watched at all times. Raider let him though, because he knew that Salem would only get more defensive if he didn’t have a place for privacy. Like a kitten. A feral one at that.

Raider chuckled to himself at the comparison. Then, he wondered what he should do in the meantime while waiting for his charge.

After spending a week in this house, he had a fairly good idea of the layout, opting to go to the kitchen for a snack or something. Watching the teen eat breakfast earlier had made him hungry and now that he was technically on break, it wouldn’t be a problem to grab something to eat.

This was a big kitchen, everything was large enough to rival industrial sized appliances. The fridge, wide with a height that made him feel small, was what drew his attention. The parents had mentioned that snacks were on top of the fridge, how it had been a tactic to stop Salem from eating too much junk. They had said he would need to ask a butler to grab a ladder for him in order to reach them.

This, coupled with a boy that hated him for doing his job, pissed him off. Raider just wanted a snack and an easier life. Is that too much to ask for?

Either way, the snack was much more attainable. Though, wandering around trying to find a butler or a ladder seemed needlessly complicated, especially when it would be so simple for him to grab it himself if he just—

But he couldn’t. Though, even with the years of training on and off the field… the urge the size shifter had to just use his ability for mundane things was strong. It made him want to just grow a couple feet taller, just enough to see the top of the fridge for the snacks.

It was a liability issue if anyone spotted him while not the height he should be.

However, no one was here… there wouldn’t be butlers and cooks in the kitchen for another few hours, and his charge would be cooped up in his room for however long until then, for food most likely.

He supposed now would be as good a time to just let his cover slip a little bit.

So he closed his eyes, focusing on that constant tug inside him and a tingling pins and needles feeling encased his body.

When he looked around, everything was distorted looking, smaller, and the top of the fridge was at chest level. He was about 10 feet tall at this point.

Except… right as he began to reach his arm up to grab a snack, he heard a stifled gasp. A chill of shock ran down his spine as his head snapped to the doorway… and there stood his charge, staring up wide eyed at his form, now only at hip level to the mini giant.

——————————————

ahh! Cliffhanger!

wow, my first time writing and posting OC g/t… that’s crazy. Hope you all enjoyed and I’ll try to get the next chapter out soon! :D

Tag list:

@da3dm @i-am-beckyu @lunar-but-little @Phoenix-on-the-run

#giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t #<3 #size shifter #size difference #Bodyguard g/t #The size of a hug au #Tsoah au #Loved writing this honestly #Just wait til next chapter 👀

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alovesreading · 11 months ago

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'tis the damn season | Part 1

Summary: Christmas has been your favourite season since you met Ross MacDonald back in Year 9 when you had just moved to Wilmslow, coincidentally on the same road as him. He becomes your very best friend for the rest of high school, but when that ends, life happens and you just can't stop it. And life is certainly cruel to you and Ross. Every December is a reminder of it, somehow always bringing a chance to ruin things even more. After so many mistakes, how can you get back the times you've always cherished with the silly boy with the dimpled smile?

Word count: 16.5k

Warnings: a bit of ansgt. well more than just a bit. @imagine-that-100 and @kennedy-brooke have made it very clear to warn you that they cried (a lot) to this so here's your warning to read this at your own discretion. i promise I'll make it up to you in the next part lol

A/N: Last month I made a poll here to see which Ross fic everyone wanted to see next (since people were asking for more Ross and I had a few fics plotted out but didn't know which to write first) and this one won by a few votes. So here it is, a bit shit and a bit angsty but I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

Part 2

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Slowly but surely, Ross MacDonald had made his way into your heart all those years ago.

And it all could be traced back to Christmas day 2002, when an act of kindness set the tone for a friendship that had been silently brewing between the two of you.

You had moved to Wilmslow as soon as you finished Year 8 and the anticipation for the start of Year 9 in a new school had been dreadful.

Thankfully, moving in had kept you and your parents busy enough to hide away in your new house as you waited for the first day of school to arrive.

Your parents hadn’t even pushed you to go out and make friends throughout the horrendously hot weeks of August for they allowed you to settle in the new house—they knew how badly you coped with change, and they were at least being kind enough to leave you to your own devices before school started. You kept your days busy by burying your nose in the few books you’d managed to keep after convincing your mom not to donate the entirety of your bookshelves.

But far too soon, the first day of school loomed on you and the first week at Wilmslow high school had been atrocious.

You kept to yourself like you always did, however, this time, it was an exaggerated amount. But you just felt so out of place, you couldn’t help it.

You’d look up at the sky with a pained expression every time during lunch, when you would finish yet another chapter of a book you’d read over and over since you’d gotten it, asking why? Just why would your parents make you move to a new town, and start from scratch at a new school when you were halfway through high school?

By Year 9, everyone’s friend groups were settled, the last year of school when everyone felt carefree enough to enjoy every single day before having to choose and start working towards getting their GCSEs.

So you felt like a proper outsider, not really welcome, like a new organism trying to push their way into an established ecosystem. And you hated it so much. It only pushed you further into your shell, making you want to disappear and remain under the shadows as you walked through the hallways to get to class, recoiling into yourself when hearing the loud chatter and laughter going on around you, failing horrendously at even smiling when people would make eye contact with you.

You were at least glad that you could walk home to and from school. The few minutes of silence and peace were something you cherished a lot now; the thudding of your leather shoes against the pavement lulling your thoughts as you made your way to the building that you were starting to dread seeing on the daily.

The second week had brought a surprise when you were halfway through yet another read of ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’ and a group of girls approached you. You’d flinched when one of them spoke up as they sat around you in a menacing circle.

“S’a bit of a sad read for such a lovely day, no?”

The girl had been kind enough to let out a genuine giggle by the end of her lighthearted words so you braved up enough to put your book down softly and offer her a half smile. You had managed to joke back, a reference to the book that the three girls thankfully caught and then, with an ease that soothed your soul, you found yourself making your first few friends by talking about the books you loved so much.

As the days went by and you found yourself surprised when having people to share lunch with and greet when you got to school, you were sure this was as far as you’d get to with your luck. And, in all honesty, you were grateful. You had never been one to have loads of friends, and even with the few you’d made throughout the years, you knew you weren’t lucky to form strong bonds like everyone else did at your age.

So when you were walking down the roads that lead you to school, the last thing that you were expecting was for the boy who startled your silent and peaceful walk to become your very best friend.

Ross had seen you around school a few times by the end of the first week and the talk about the mysterious new girl had been doing rounds enough for his curiosity to be piqued, when he saw you walking into the house down the road from his house at the start of the second week of the school year.

He had made an effort waking up at a reasonable time and leaving for school way earlier than he always did every morning then, to see if he could catch up with you.

There wasn’t really a plan, there was just his growing curiosity to know about the girl who lived on the opposite corner of the road, the one who walked a block ahead of him every morning and got to school a minute before him, being whisked away by three girls that you gave the honour to see your smile unlike the rest of the students who crossed you through the halls.

One morning in particular, when Ross had just been annoyed at himself for missing you every damn time he walked out of his house, he decided to rush his steps until he reached you. Stumbling the last few and successfully startling you when he managed to catch up to you about a few minutes before you’d get to school.

His mind went blank when you looked at him expectantly for a few seconds, nothing but the birds chirping around you and the sound of cars driving down the roads enveloped you as you waited for a reasoning behind his sudden appearance.

But Ross gave you nothing but a dimpled smile and offered his hand out for you to shake.

Your grip was firm and the smile that broke on your face was as sweet as the ones you gave your new friends.

He foolishly hoped that meant you were friends now, but just to be sure of it, he let you know his name.

“Ross,” he started a bit shaky, clearing his throat before adding, “MacDonald.”

The chortle you gave at his formality made a pinkish blush creep up from his neck to his cheeks.

The sight made you smile a bit harder.

“Y/N,” your voice made him melt. “Y/L/N. If the full legal name is really needed.”

He shook his head at himself, snorting out in laughter and dropping your hand softly. He clenched his fingers in a fist and then loosened it when his arm fell to his side. Even though the day was warm and he didn’t like it at all with the horrendously suffocating uniform they had to wear, he found himself not minding the warmth that holding your hand had brought.

Frowning at the thought, he fell silent just like you did and followed as you resumed your walk.

That was the first day you walked to school together.

Every morning after that, he ran to catch up to you and walk together to school. And little by little, your conversations elongated and you two shared more about yourselves to each other as the days went by.

“So who’s that girl then?” Matty asked one day after seeing you and Ross part ways at the entrance of the school.

Ross tensed at the line of questioning, especially at Matty’s tone and the way he wiggled his eyebrows at him.

“Just my neighbour,” he said almost dismissively. “We walk the same way to school so I bump into her sometimes.”

It wasn’t in bad nature though, he just wanted to keep the details of you that you kept hidden for everyone else to himself. It wasn’t selfish, Ross convinced himself, just giving you the chance to open up to Matty if you ever decided to do that.

But the curly headed boy knew well enough he hadn’t seen you before when he’d come over to the MacDonald’s residence, and he also knew very well that Ross walked into school with you daily. Sometimes my arse.

“Don’t remember seeing her around when I’ve come over to yours.”

Ross held back a huff but he freely let himself roll his eyes, “She’s just moved into the house on the other side of the road from mine.”

Matty hummed, smirking as he looked around until his gaze fell on you, “She’s fit.”

You were laughing with your friends, chatting excitedly as you sorted through your bag and pulled out a book.

Ross frowned at Matty’s comment but not because he disagreed, he actually wholeheartedly thought his friend was right, but because he didn’t like it coming from him.

“Maybe you should introduce us to the other,” Matty added with a cheeky grin when he saw the expression on Ross’ face. “Be a good mate and play cupid for me, MacDonald.”

Ross scoffed loudly at the forward suggestion from his friend. It was settled then, telling Matty you lived in the same road as him and that you’d just moved into town was enough for him to know.

He kept to himself what your favourite movie was, which album you’d last become obsessed with, the names of your friends back home who you didn’t talk to anymore now that you’d moved, how you had broken your arm at five years old in the playground and had put stickers all over your pink cast to show it off at school. Ross definitely wouldn’t tell him how that book had been lent to you by Danielle, one of your new friends, and how you’d stayed up until three in the morning reading it so you had spent half your trip up to school yawning and rubbing your eyes.

Yup. He would definitely keep it all to himself.

And so he did. He kept every bit of yourself that you shared with him to himself and himself only. And along with all those little facts about you, he also kept to himself the way he perked up every time he saw you slowly walking down the pavement, the warmth that spread through him when he saw you smile at him.

He would frown at himself in the mirror when he thought about it at home. He was thirteen years old, there were so many things much more important than thinking about how pretty you were or how your smile made him all gooey inside. He huffed every time, convincing himself he was just being objective and not developing a crush. He liked you as a friend and that was it. He had much more important matters than his feelings, which he definitely didn’t have.

But after the half term break, there was a change that made his stubborn thoughts falter.

He walked out of his house ready to see your figure already ahead of him, ready to power walk his way up to you.

But he saw no one but the trees and bushes lining the road and he deflated instantly.

He thought about walking up to your front door and knocking, asking if you’d gotten ill and you weren’t going to school. He pondered about what could’ve happened as he walked, eyes down as he went over the possibilities.

So he didn’t see you sitting on the step of your front door, waiting for him to walk by.

Taking in his distracted complexion, you decided to startle him right before he walked past your mum’s car.

A loud and slightly high pitched yell stumbled out of his mouth, and you somehow overpowered the sound with a loud fit of laughter that certainly felt like a nice apology for the scare.

You wouldn’t stop giggling about it as you walked to school, somehow managing to make him laugh along despite embarrassment tinting his cheeks red. Ross had never heard you laugh this much in his presence so he’d let you indulge in it, and when he did, you let yourself grow more comfortable around him.

He felt it from the way you’d now wait for him to walk by sitting on the step of your front door every morning, and how you’d greet him with a smile and an excited, “Hey!” He felt it from the way you’d lean into him as you walked, how you’d nudge his hip with yours when you’d tease him.

Just like you had done one day when you asked about the band.

“So he got promoted, huh?”

Your question had been thrown out into the chilly air of early November, suddenly and without context, so Ross looked at you confused and asked, “Who?”

His group of friends and yours didn’t really share much at all. Whilst you and your friends shared the growing love for books and films, you knew Ross was in a band with some of his friends and they were always messing about, playing video games or going to the skate park, if they were not recording themselves covering songs like the Ghostbusters theme song, which you’d seen on myspace, or just rehearsing in someone’s garage.

So you knew a little about the band from the few videos that went around the school, seeing them hidden away in the music room at school sometimes, or just the talk going around the halls. It was exactly the gossip which had brought the piece of information to your attention and you’d been curious about what had gotten Elliot, some lad who sang for their band, to quit in the middle of rehearsal and left that job open for his friend, who you knew played the drums, to take it.

“Your friend, the one with the curly hair and glasses? Used to be on the drums until a few days ago no? Or so the chatter going ‘round says.”

Recognition melted the frown away from his face, “Oh Matty? Yeah, yeah. We got George in the band now. T’was sorta logistically impossible to have Matty singing and on the drums at the same time. He had to do one thing at a time for it to properly work.”

You hummed, cocking your head as you took in the information. It made sense. “How’s that arrangement going on then?”

“Erm, well he likes being up on the front. The attention and all.” Ross joked a little, even though it was mostly true.

You snorted out in laughter, “Yeah I bet.”

He hummed as if asking for you to elaborate.

“He looks like he likes attention. Not a bad thing, just–” you stuttered as you tried to look for the words, settling for, “It’s funny to watch, s’all."

Ross snorted as he nodded, “It is.”

Already seeing Jodie, Sarah and Danielle waiting for you by the school entrance, you turned to look at him and offered him a cheeky grin to play, “Good luck with that then, MacDonald. Don’t let him steal your spotlight too much.”

It was things like that that you’d say that would stay with him for days in the forefront of his mind. Weeks swirling around his subconscious and keeping him up at night, nothing really came from thinking about them so much, only the need to spend more and more time with you but he had no clue how or when to even suggest that.

The need only grew stronger when the holiday break came around and Ross hadn’t seen you in five days. Sure, two of those were the weekend but he had only really endured going without seeing you on the weekends, reuniting with your voice and your smile and your laughter the following Monday.

So Ross had been thinking about how he could even come around to seeing you during the holidays. Especially since it was actually Christmas day.

He could knock on your door, easily, but then what would he do? Was he coming over just to say hello? What if one of your parents answered the door? What was he trying to do? What excuse could he have?

Turns out, he didn’t have to think of an excuse because as he walked back home from Matty’s, Ross found you grumpily walking back home too.

He called out your name in the distance and thankfully, you heard him enough to turn around to see him and stop in your tracks.

It wasn’t until he was next to you that he said, “Why the long face? It’s Christmas.”

You could hear the hint of playfulness in his voice, but the annoyance that filled you mixed with a bit of sadness so you couldn’t find it in yourself to play along.

Instead, you sighed and shoved your gloved hands back inside your coat’s pockets. Shivering, you replied, “I know. There’s always a Grinch though, no?”

He nudged your hip with his, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth as he joked, “Doubt you’ve just stolen all the village’s gifts.”

When you only gave him a soft chuckle that got lost in the sound of the wind, he turned serious and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Taking a deep breath so you didn’t let it get to you again, you took a second before explaining, “Mum’s forgotten to buy the potatoes and sent me out on the impossible quest of finding some at a quarter past four on the 25th of December.”

Ross gave you a soft, understanding smile then. “Ah, so no potatoes acquired.”

“Not one,” you mumbled in despair, shivering again when a cold rush of wind blew the hoodie off your head.

He had to hold himself back from throwing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into him. All to help you get warm, of course. But he thought against it at the last second, instead thinking about what he could do to help.

“You know, me mum always buys way more than needed. It’s only us three so she definitely has some to spare.”

Horrified at the thought of taking from what should be his Christmas dinner, you quickly dismissed his suggestion. “No, Ross. It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.”

But Ross wouldn’t accept no for an answer. Kissing his teeth as he shook his head, he nudged your hip again, a cheeky grin on his face, “C’mon Y/N, today’s all about giving, is it not?”

Damn him and that dimpled smile that made it so easy for you to smile back. You hummed as you pressed your lips, trying not to beam at him too brightly but letting him win, “I guess it is.”

It was strange walking up the road and past your house. You had waited outside but still gasped under your breath at the glimpse of his house all decorated when he walked in through the door. When he closed the door behind him as his mum peeked her head out of the kitchen door, you sighed out in relief. Yes, he was your friend now but you were far too shy to go in and meet his parents only to take their potatoes.

Your cheeks and neck warmed with a flush that went all through your body when you thought about how he’d be telling his mum about the vegetables. God, how fucking embarrassing. You were cursing your mum’s forgetfulness in your mind when Ross walked back out, a bag of potatoes in hand.

You wanted earth to open up and swallow you whole.

But when that didn’t happen, you accepted the bag with a genuine smile and thanked Ross profusely. He said it was alright over and over but your mind was going over how you could repay it already.

An idea sparked in your head just as he was waving off yet another thank you that stumbled out of your lips, so with a sudden hurry, you wished him and his family a merry Christmas and walked back home.

A handful of hours later, you were back at his door. This time with your hands full, holding a tray of way too many Christmas cookies for three people.

“Special delivery?” You muttered softly, holding up the tray towards Ross as he peeled the door open further when seeing it was you.

He walked out, brave enough to face the bitter cold of the night without a proper coat. In just a beige knitted sweater, he rubbed his hands to warm them as he frowned, “What’s this?”

“Cookies, of course,” you replied with sarcasm dripping thick from your words. Ross glared at you, unimpressed by your answer and making you sigh, correcting yourself, “A thank you.”

“I told you it was alright.”

You knew he meant it but when you came back home, bag of potatoes in hand, your mum had gasped in surprise at you actually managing to get them. Not allowing her to get excited about being right about maybe the corner shop being open, you let your annoyance be known as you told her what had actually happened: you’d walked to the shops in the freezing cold for no reason because they were all closed like you very much knew they’d be, but Ross had been the one to give her the bag of vegetables. Just like you’d been thinking of doing already, your mum suggested making something extra to send over to Ross’ family as a thank you.

So here you were, with a double batch of sprinkled sugar cookies that you’d just taken out of the oven about twenty minutes before, standing in front of the MacDonald’s home, trying to get Ross to accept a humble—and quite tasty—offering as a thank you for his help.

“Well today’s about giving, isn’t it Ross?”

He couldn’t help but smile when hearing you use his very own words to push him into gracefully accepting the sweet treats. And so the only way to answer was by using your very own answer from earlier, “I guess it is.”

“Then take them, please.”

Truth be told, you had gotten to work on them quickly after going back home. It was a recipe you knew by heart so it wasn’t hard for you to make batch after batch. Your parents had been happily having some with hot chocolate whilst you’d come to deliver Ross the cookies you’d made for him and his family.

Ross smiled brightly, “Thank you, you’re a sweetheart.”

Your cheeks had warmed at the pet name, he’d never referred to you any other way than your name.

It was to be expected that the stupid smile on your face didn’t leave you until you went to sleep that night, and you’d been replaying him calling you that in your mind over and over.

You didn’t really see him after Christmas, not even on New Year’s Eve or New Year’s day, so you had to wait for the first day back at school to see him. To hear his voice, watch that infectious smile of his break on his face.

But on Monday, you waited for him far too long, sat on the step by your front door until it got late. You had walked to school alone, quickly and panicking as you tried not to be late but also worried about what could’ve happened with him.

Everything was alright though, Ross had just stupidly slept in until his mum startled him out of bed when he was already running late. He’d gotten dressed in record time, and basically ran to school and barely made it. There wasn’t any sense of relief overcoming him when he made it just in time, he was filled with dread after having missed your daily morning walk together, the one he’d been looking forward to since he’d gotten a taste of those cookies you made—he had basically hoarded them and left his parents only a handful to eat, they all had reached the conclusion that you’d done amazingly with the cookies and that it had been incredibly sweet of you to drop them off for them; so he really needed to tell you all that.

To his dismay, Ross didn’t see you at all throughout the day. So when the school day was over and everyone spilled out of the building, he rushed outside to catch you before you left for home.

In the distance, you heard him yell out your name and even your friends froze in their places beside you.

They smirked when you all turned around to see him clumsily breaking through the crowd to get to you, wiggles of their eyebrows and widening eyes letting you know that they were definitely curious about what was going on for your ‘walking-to-school buddy’, as they’d nicknamed him, to be so desperate to find you.

Waving them off and forcing them to say goodbye, you walked away from them and tilted your head slightly so Ross would follow you along as you started walking away from school.

The apology was imminent, you just didn’t know it would come this quickly, “M’so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t hear my alarm and slept in.” He took a deep breath when he got to your side and added, “Mum had to wake me up, fucking hell. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten dressed this quickly in my life.”

You laughed at him, the way his eyes flashed with dread at the recount of his morning.

He continued explaining, for no reason other than feeling like you deserved the whole truth behind it, “We got fucking plastered on New Year’s at Matty’s. Fully had to take a few days to recover from that nightmare of a hangover, but I’m still feeling rough so I just kept sleeping.”

Another string of giggles fell from your lips, “Right.”

Despite still being very sure of wanting to keep Matty away from you, Ross couldn’t help but suggest, “You should come along next year. You’d enjoy yourself.” He had been thinking about how it could’ve been with you there the whole time—or at least until he blacked out—, wishing he had invited you over. So he did just that, but just in case, he added, “Plus the guys are funny, even though they can be really obnoxious.”

Amused, you looked at him with raised brows and a cheeky grin, “I think Adam should be exempt from that.”

You had met Adam at school, he had been kind enough to say hello one day in the halls knowing that you were one of Ross’ friends, and he’d been really sweet chatting to you from time to time when you bumped into him around school. He definitely was nothing like Matty or George, who you’d seen causing ruckus around the place a fair few times.

At the dig, Ross asked, “What about me?”

But you tried taunting him by ignoring his inquiry and saying, “I'll be counting down the next 365 days,” successfully accepting his invitation over to Matty’s for the welcome of the next year.

Frozen in his place, his mouth fell agape at your blatant dismissal of his words, and so you left him behind with a chuckle, continuing walking towards your house.

From behind you, you heard him ask again, a bit louder this time, “Oi! What about me?”

You just laughed, shaking your head and not turning to see him. He had run up to you and poked your side as payback, making you squeal in surprise.

Your laughter hadn’t stopped until you were almost halfway to your house and answering his question had been long forgotten.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The weeks that followed that first Christmas had seen you and Ross becoming proper friends and causing a domino effect on the mixing of your friend groups. Friendships bloomed easily when everyone started hanging out together thanks to you and Ross wanting to share more time together other than your walks to and from school.

It was an odd group of people, but you managed to bring out different sides of each other and it was pure laughter and joy every time.

Before you knew it, birthdays, half term breaks, weekends, Halloweens, and evenings after school were spent with you all together. Messing about, watching the guys rehearse in Matty’s garage, being front row in every gig they played, helping each other study for your GCSEs, coming over to watch films and sneaking out to the skatepark.

But when December came around and school had closed for Holiday break, you realised that it was that time of the year that would become your absolute favourite.

For Christmas 2003, you had made sure to make something for his family again. After Ross had told you how much his family had enjoyed the cookies you’d made, you wanted to surprise them with something again; even if this year you’d made sure your mum didn’t forget a single thing for your Christmas dinner so you weren’t asking for something back from the MacDonalds.

You had made a glorious batch of Yorkshire pudding that Ross and his parents enjoyed thoroughly with their gravy. You’d told your mum how surprised and grateful your neighbours had been for the treat, and you were secretly hoping Ross would come knocking on your door to tell you how they found your cooking but you had been the one surprised instead when Ross had come over on Boxing day morning with a delicious English trifle that his mum made as a thank you.

After having a healthy portion of dessert, you had basically dragged Ross upstairs to show him the presents you had gotten that year, and he had enjoyed every second with a silly grin on his face.

He hadn’t missed a beat to invite you over to his house so he could show you what he had gotten that year. But you hadn’t been allowed to leave before your mum could take a few pictures of you and Ross with the brand new Polaroid camera your dad had spoiled her with that year.

Her obsession with hanging mistletoe had ended up with Ross kissing your cheek for a picture after your mum had cheekily pointed out you were standing right below it.

You had felt the burning imprint of his lips on the skin of your cheek for hours as you were thrown on his bed admiring the beauty of his new bass, hearing him tune the instrument and practise the songs he knew how to play so well with what he had been obnoxiously referring to as his new ‘baby’.

That afternoon you had gone to Matty’s house, the rest of your friend group arrived shortly after you and Ross, and soon enough you started exchanging the gifts you’d gotten each other. The presents weren’t big or something too special, you all had to make due with your pocket money, but it had brought you so much happiness to see everyone’s reactions to what the other’s had gotten for them.

The days in between Boxing day and New Year’s Eve had been spent with either you over at Ross’ house or him over at yours.

By then, it wasn’t odd to spend time at each other’s houses, watching films and eating chips or helping each other with homework and studying. But the cold December had assured that every time you fell asleep as you watched a film in your room or his, you’d wake up cuddling tightly to keep warm.

It was a drastic change to wake up with your limbs tangled together instead of your heads resting on the other’s shoulder like it had happened before. So the first time it had happened, the two of you had jumped away from the other like you’d just been shocked by electricity. The truth was that a buzz had gone through your body to every single one of your nerve endings and you both had felt it, it was obvious in the foolish grins that you tried to hide as you apologised to each other.

But it was tempting to get lost in the feeling, and it proved impossible for you to have the heart to stop it from happening when you woke up resting on Ross’ chest, his arms around your waist to keep you in place and your legs tangled together.

You had blinked awake and seen the situation in which you were stuck in, and despite knowing it would be best to peel yourself away from him as your heartbeat grew louder in your ears, you just couldn’t do it.

Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to fall back asleep and leave the decision for Ross to make. Yet, he had felt you stir in his hold and it only took him a few seconds to wake up.

He groaned lowly and you felt your face heat up at the sound rumbling through his chest under your cheek. This was definitely not helping you ignore the way his presence had started making you fluster and get giddy every time, not helping the need to spend all of your time with him; definitely not helping your thoughts from going to a conversation with your friends who were willing to bet that you had a crush on Ross.

Softly you apologised and went to push yourself away from him, but Ross held you tighter and shook his head, half lidded eyes that fought against his sleepy haze on you with determination.

“Don’t. You’re so cosy.”

It was clearer than ever that you couldn’t say no to him and it made you curse at yourself in your mind.

By the time New Year’s Eve came, you and Ross had made it a habit to cuddle whenever either of you was at the other’s house, and with the cuddles came the need to have the other close at all times.

Therefore, you were glued to each other for the entirety of Matty’s house party. Even when one of you ran to the bathroom to be sick—yes, one if not the both of you, would definitely be shit faced before midnight—, the other was there to help.

When the countdown happened, you would laugh at the crowd of drunk teenagers trying to properly sync up to the clock. And when midnight struck, you’d all go around the room to clumsily hug everyone and wish them a happy new year.

And, of course, when you would wake up after knocking out on one of the settees, you’d be cuddling Ross tightly into you like you had grown used to doing in the past couple of days.

When the holiday season of 2004 came around, everything you had done the year before had become a tradition. From making something for the other’s family to spending the lazy morning of Boxing day together, walking over to Matty’s house side by side with the gifts for your friends in hand, spending the days leading up to New Year’s Eve together and then going over to the Healy’s residence to get pissed as you welcomed the new year.

You found yourself wishing for every year to be the same.

Your heart swelled in your chest when December 2005 loomed around the corner, and your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled when your traditions continued just the same during Holiday break.

Another recipe was made as you tried to impress the MacDonalds, another picture of kisses on cheeks was added to the collection, another handful of presents bought for your friends, another show and tell of your gifts thrown for Ross, many more movies watched as you nuzzled in his neck, another countdown shouted with your best of friends, another hangover cured with Ross’ help.

But everything was slightly different this time around, for 2006 meant that this would be your last Holiday season at home before you were off to university. And though you were definitely coming back home to celebrate the Holidays every year, it was different enough to make it a proper last celebration.

That meant Ross and his parents coming over for Christmas dinner at your house.

“Wish we had done this sooner,” you tell Ross as you cut pieces of the sticky toffee pudding you made earlier today.

He hums beside you, sliding a plate closer to you so you could place the first piece down, “Me too.”

It’s hard not to be nostalgic already when you’re all chatting and laughing together, your chest feels heavy as you long for a memory in the making, one that you know you will cherish forever, even if you don’t have to because you’re sure you won’t ever have to spend the Christmas holidays without Ross—you’re determined to never let that happen.

Everyone sitting around the table showers you in compliments for the delicious dessert you’ve made, Ross’ mum asking for the recipe while everyone else asks for seconds.

“Can I get a double serving, sweetheart? You know, since I’m your favourite person here.”

You roll your eyes at him, but Ross knows far too well that you can’t say no to him. Not when he calls you that.

He could admit that sometimes he uses the pet name selfishly, but most of the time is just to see how you squirm under his gaze, completely unable to keep your cool.

Ross thinks you’re so fucking cute.

He has been for a while. And that crush he knew he had on you, only grew stronger and deeper the more days he spent in your presence.

Matty had said once that Ross was in love with you and the bassist had never been more grateful that his best mate had at least waited until you were out of hearing distance for him to point that out.

But that comment swirled in the back of Ross’ head ever since it had fallen from Matty’s lips and it echoed loudly in his mind when you were near him, and it got horrendously louder when you were cuddling or hugging him.

Just like you are right now as you pose for your mum’s camera.

That Polaroid which had been the reason for your growing collection of pictures with you and Ross as the main focus of the frame. From your birthday pictures to pictures your mum had sneakily taken when the two of you fell asleep on the settee, pictures of you in your fancy dresses before you were off to a house party for Halloween and all of your Christmas pictures throughout the years.

Your arms are wrapped around Ross’ waist, one of his hands over your hands as if to keep you there and his other arm over your shoulder. The smiles are wide on your faces for the first picture but you know what’s happening next. Like clockwork, Ross is pressing his lips on your cheek for the yearly kiss picture you take under the mistletoe that hangs above you.

Mockingly, really.

Because Ross has long gotten tired of kissing your cheek, he wants to kiss you properly under the mistletoe and has been wanting to since the second time your mum made the two of you pose for pictures under the hanging arrangement of little branches. He remembered the twinkling lights around your house reflecting on your pretty eyes and he was gone; his lips itched to press on yours but he had held back, only because your mum was always right there.

But this time the obnoxious whirring of the empty camera alerts you all that the film has run out and your mum excuses herself to make a dash upstairs and get a new pack, warning you to stay right there for her.

You loosen up your embrace and let your arms fall limply on your sides to give Ross his space until your mum is back but he frowns as he looks at you and scorns, “Where are you going?”

It isn’t like you are leaving though, you’re staying right beside him but letting him free for a minute or two because you know how annoying your mum can get about pictures and how, despite his lack of comment on it, he only just tolerates it.

“She’s gonna take a while. We’ll pose again when she’s back.”

He huffs under his breath because he really didn’t want you to stop hugging him. But he takes the moment to look up the stairs as the noise of your mum making a clutter in her room as she looks for her film bounces down the halls and reaches the two of you. A loud ‘for fucks sake’ is heard from upstairs and your best friend hears you snort beside him.

Just when he was about to look back at you, Ross catches a glimpse of the neatly hung arrangement of mistletoe and, now really aware of the fact that your mum is out of sight and both your dads are heavily engrossed in conversation far away from where you stand, he knows this is the moment he’s been wishing for.

The feeling of his hands coming up to your face surprises you, but what’s more surprising is seeing him slowly leaning into you and you do nothing to stop it.

How could you stop it? When it’s something you’ve been thinking about obsessively for months now. The feelings that he brought you only heightened with time and you didn’t do anything about it other than keep it to yourself and sigh endlessly as you thought about him every day when you were alone in your room, writing everything down on your battered old diary.

Ross pauses when your noses brush, your breaths mixing with him this close to you and he’s about to ask when you just nod, almost missable if his forehead wasn’t pressed against yours and the movement causes his own head to move.

That was all he needed to close the distance and your heart explodes in your chest when his lips press against yours and his stubble itches your face as he starts to move his mouth on yours.

It’s quick because your mum’s footsteps coming quickly down the hall startle the two of you away from each other, but the kiss is enough to assure you two that the crushes you had on each other are much more than that.

And your mum captures the foolish smiles on your faces when that notion becomes apparent to you and Ross. This time, a kiss falls on Ross’ cheeks and your mum coos loudly at the dimpled loopy smile that breaks on his face.

You don’t say anything, because you really don’t know what can be said, and Ross doesn’t either, so you go on about the rest of the night like nothing’s happened. But the ache in your cheeks from how much you two are grinning dares to say otherwise.

Neither of you says a thing when the night’s wrapped up and you say goodbye. Ross really has to hold back from stealing another kiss from your lips when he hugs you goodbye, the attentive gaze of your and his parents posing a burden for his growing need to do that again.

But even the next morning, he’s wary of trying his luck again and, since you’re expecting him to make the first move again, you stop yourself from getting your hopes up and put it down to him just getting excited about standing under the mistletoe. After all, it is the rules of that tradition. So yes, you’re blaming it all on the mistletoe and you hope that singular word is enough of a bandaid on the little crack of your heart.

Yet, the heartache that the rest of Boxing day brings is a different and much stronger one when you and your friends are all splayed around Matty’s living room with sad smiles on your faces after having exchanged presents.

“It’s okay. We’re all coming back every Christmas and it’ll never change,” says Danielle, hoping that saying it aloud makes it become real.

The weight of the fact that half of you will be leaving town in September and it will all change, because growing up has been something none of you could avoid and life moves on, and unfortunately you have to move on too.

It’s somehow harder knowing that it’s you moving away. Matty had managed to convince the guys’ parents that the band was going to be a thing, something huge in no time, and therefore getting Adam and Ross to stay in Wilmslow—George was still dealing with his GCSEs, but even he wasn’t planning on doing his A Levels and going off to uni.

The thought of leaving everyone else behind, once again, makes you shake from anxiety when you think too much about it.

Losing all these people is enough of a nightmare to make your eyes well up with tears, ones you struggle to keep from spilling down your cheeks when everyone promises to be back every Christmas, speaking out what their plans will be for when the time comes.

Ross throws his arm around your shoulders when he hears you sniffle, hugging you into his side. That’s enough for you to start crying and in a matter of seconds everyone is suffocating you in a group hug.

It’s settled then that everyone is gonna make the most out of the rest of the week and your annual New Year’s Eve house party will be one to remember, to part with the best memories and only make the following years even better.

And you do just that.

Instead of spending the days leading up to New Year’s Eve with Ross, the rest of your friend group sticks together and you all spend the days in different houses, watching movies, messing about, playing video games. A few afternoons you all escape to the skatepark and hide away to smoke or drink, enjoying the last bits of the togetherness that you have a bad feeling will be broken despite the promises.

When the 31st of December approaches, and you walk into Matty’s house with Ross behind you, you gasp seeing the scene set up for the night.

There’s much more alcohol than needed for how many of you there will be, rolled spliffs on the coffee table ready for anyone to smoke, an unnecessary amount of snacks that you know will do absolutely no help to help you from getting pissed quickly.

You’re grateful you ate enough to survive a few hours of drinking before blacking out, if it even gets to that point. Unfortunately, George can’t say the same because by the time everyone has arrived at Matty’s, he’s already stumbling around the place with those silly giggles of his stumbling out at absolutely everything around him.

Everyone else followed, knocking back drink after drink and smoking to their heart’s content until there’s nothing but loud laughter and yelling, and the place is trashed by careless teenage behaviour.

It’s wild to say the least, everyone is on the verge of losing memory of the night with every shot and puff they take, the drinking games do not help in the slightest and George has been picked up from having passed out on the bushes twice already.

No one really is sober enough to care about the countdown. Matty and George being the menacing duo they are when intoxicated are entertaining everyone inside with the shit they spout, everyone’s eyes are on them like they’re the most captivating clowns anyone has ever seen, getting loud laughs from everyone.

But despite the amount you and Ross have drank, you’ve got enough grasp on your logic to walk out and close the door behind you, ready to watch the fireworks go off as everyone greets the new year.

Ross lights up a cigarette beside you and takes a long drag with an ease that makes you roll your eyes. You’ve always struggled when smoking with them, trying to take a drag of a spliff always ended with you erupting in a horrendous fit of coughs that end up hurting your chest, you were a bit better with cigarettes, only that meant you coughed a little less and you could take multiple drags of it instead of just the one.

He still offers you it, knowing that since you’re drunk you are most likely to crave a puff or two. Your fingers pluck it out of his accompanied with a soft, “Thanks.” that he smiles at.

As expected, you cough when the smoke hits the back of your throat but you don’t give it back, you hold your breath to stop yourself from coughing and try again. This time it burns way less so you can let the smoke go down until you can relish in the feeling and then let it out upwards.

Ross is staring at you with glistening eyes, fighting a grin that wants to break on his face just from seeing you like this. He finds even the most mundane things you do so incredibly endearing, it’s tragic how much of a hold you have on him and he just can’t stop it nor does he want to.

Yet, the real tragedy is that he doesn’t know exactly what to do. He knows what he wants to do: kiss you and cuddle you, hold your hand in school, have you close to him all the time; but he has no idea how to make that happen.

And time is ticking now, your imminent goodbye looming on him like a dark cloud in the horizon and he can’t help but think it might be stupid to risk your friendship selfishly when it’s soon that you’ll be gone.

But when everyone inside starts counting down in a horribly loud and drunk choir, Ross is brought out of his head. There you stand in front of him, fingers holding out the cigarette for him to take, a smirk on your face as you wiggle the stick for him to take, and there’s only one thing that Ross is thinking.

After that taste on Christmas day, he can’t just let this opportunity go. Not when it’s set so perfectly for him to make the move.

Ten, nine, eight…

He steps right in front of you, plucking the cigarette out of your hand and tossing it to the ground before wrapping an arm around your waist, his right hand coming to cup your face.

Seven, six, five, four…

Your breath leaves you in a gasp, your mouth hanging open as he starts leaning in. Your gazes stuck on the other, pupils dilating as the moment you’ve been both thinking about for days seems to happen all over again.

Three, two, one…

His lips are on yours before everyone can even finish saying one, their loud “Happy New Years!” doesn’t even startle you out of it. The noise only makes his fingers dig harsher on your face and his mouth grows more intent on yours, tongue licking your bottom lip and with a breathy whimper, you welcome him by parting your mouth.

Your lungs burn after what feels like minutes, but you can’t be sure it isn’t your brain stretching time out like a string of melted candy. The only thing you can do is curse yourself for ruining your lungs' capacity by having a brief smoke; if you’d only known Ross would be stealing your breath with a kiss, you would have declined.

You pull back with a gasp, trying to take as much oxygen into your lungs, chest heaving with your ragged breaths.

Yet Ross is composed as he lets his eyes flutter close and presses his forehead against yours. Your heavy exhales hit his parted mouth, your noses brush, and you feel your heartbeats in your ears.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours as he talks and your body betrays you when you dip forward to join your mouths again.

It’s barely a kiss, more of a string of pecks that you manage to drop on his parted lips as you try puckering your lips in between trying to catch your breath.

Ross giggles breathily.

You stop, pulling back and looking into his eyes, “Happy New Year, Ross.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It was foolish of you to expect that university would be an easier change than moving towns in the middle of high school, yet you had held out hope that this time things would be easier; with your age and the aspirations you had, you expected all that to fuel you into fighting your struggles when change happened, but how wrong you were.

A miraculous day was one when you wouldn’t cry, staring at your phone as you tried to decide whether or not it would be a good idea to bug your parents once again, or if it was time to come clean to your friends back home about how you actually were feeling.

You never really made a decision. You felt guilty enough keeping this from your friends but you didn’t want to burden them with your stupid issues that all were rooted in your lack of ability to adapt to new places. Your parents were really the only ones who half knew how you were coping, but even then it was a very tame account of what you were really going through.

That is why you’re incredibly giddy now on the coach back home. You don’t even care about it being crowded and feeling way too observed by eyes you’ve never met, neither do you care about the smells around you nor the loud snoring coming from behind you.

All you can think of is how excited you are to be home during your favourite time of the year, to see your friends, to hug Ross so tightly you are sure it will rid you of all of your troubles.

You really wanted to see Ross.

It wasn’t like you never spoke on the phone but with your inability to cope with change, there were only a few evenings throughout the week when you weren’t sobbing your eyes out enough to deal with your academic responsibilities and then make calls back home.

So it was needless to say that you’ve been counting down the days until holiday break, and you just couldn’t wait to get to that road you had met Ross and run down to knock on his door and crush him in a hug.

Your knee bounces up and down as you think about all the things that have been going on back at home, how the world back there has kept spinning around without you and it makes your anxiety creep up your spine.

With a shake of your head, you force yourself to stop.

It’s okay. Everyone will be glad to see you and it’s gonna be as if you’d never left. It’ll be alright.

When your dad picks you up from the Manchester airport station, your smile breaks on your face. It has been so long since you’ve genuinely smiled that your cheeks start hurting shortly into your drive. Your heart slams against your ribcage, your fingers fiddle with the sleeves of your jumper, and your words tangle on the tip of your tongue as you try to chat with your dad.

You can’t wait to get home and feel some sense of normalcy, that familiarity you’ve been longing the very second you went away.

But, despite the warm welcome the familiar walls of your fully decorated house gives you, when Ross comes over, there’s a shift around you that makes you frown.

The unrelenting knocks on the front door have you dashing downstairs, and when you open it, your eyes widen and a gasp slips past your lips when seeing Ross standing in front of you, “Oh my god, hi!”

He envelopes you in a hug that makes a knot tie in your throat, and the sound of his voice would have pushed a sob out of you if it wasn’t for a correction that hit you like a gut punch, “Missed you so much swee– Y/N/N.”

The both of you tense in each other’s hold, impossible not to have missed the awkward correction. Your brows furrow as you look over his shoulder, not wanting to look at his face just yet because your confusion is clear on your face, but you try your best to sound unnerved when you reciprocate, “Yeah. Missed you too.”

A half smile is what you offer him when you pull back, and when he gives you a grin of his, you just want to scream seeing the dimples on his cheek after so long.

Yet, you can’t let yourself enjoy his presence fully when he walks into your house and he greets your parents, because all that you’re thinking about is why on Earth he could’ve stopped himself from calling you a pet name he’s used for you for years.

Your chest hurts already, thinking about a loss that you have no idea the reasoning behind. Little did you know, you would be mourning more losses with the days to come.

In the kitchen, your parents, Ross and yourself are all chatting and catching up over cups of hot chocolate. There’s laughter and smiles, loads of news about what’s been going on in Wilmslow while you’ve been gone, many more stories of the lads and another name the band had acquired.

Soon enough, your mum and dad leave to finish wrapping presents and leave you and Ross to catch up alone.

He’s helping you make cookies, the same ones you had made 5 years ago to thank him for the potatoes. And you can’t help but smile at the memories the two of you have made over the years during the Christmas season, heat creeping up your neck when remembering what had happened merely one year ago.

But you can’t relish too much on the ghostly feeling of his lips on yours because suddenly, he clears his throat and shyly starts talking about something he has been hiding from you for a bit.

“I, erm, met this girl in uni,” he trails off with a soft voice that makes you freeze in your spot. “She’s teaching history, like I do. She’s much smarter than I am, though.”

Ross laughs, that dimpled smile breaking on his now flushed face. All you can do to hide your surprise is chuckle along, breathy and not at all genuine.

And it seems like he takes your giggles as a seal of approval for he lets every thought about this mysterious girl out.

Her name is Katie and she’s the same age as you and Ross. They met the first day of classes when Ross was so confused about where he had been told to go, his inability to take his eyes off the papers in his hand had caused him to crash into her and, after gathering each other’s things which had fallen everywhere on the hall, they chatted enough to know they were both lost on their first day as teachers and they had been inseparable since then.

She has a brilliant memory and is an amazing teacher. Everyone adores her and Ross is still surprised she chooses to hang out with him most of the time. She’s pretty, gorgeous even from what you can see on her myspace page Ross shows you. She loves LCD Soundsystem and The Streets so she’s basically perfect. Added to the fact that she plays the guitar, and of course is quite good at skateboarding.

The bitter feeling rising up your throat burns a hole in your chest, like acid burning through your skin and bones.

“Can we change topics? Please?” You snap out, smacking your hands on the kitchen counter. “Not in the mood to hear about how perfect this girl is. I’m sure I’ll see how fucking wonderful she is when I have to meet her.”

A loud sigh follows your sudden outburst, and then silence falls. Each second hurts, the silence is far too loud and then dread falls on you, a heavy weight on your shoulders that makes you slump forward.

“Right,” he says to pierce through the agonising silence.

You want to disappear right then and there. It’s unfair of you to shut him up like that when you’ve been gone for months and you barely have had the time to chat properly on the phone. It’s unfair of you to not listen to him talk about a topic that clearly has him excited, someone who has him foolishly smiling and rambling.

But maybe it is that. That you are back after the most horrible months you’ve been through and all he can talk about is this gorgeous perfect girl that claims his every thought.

You’re annoyed she’s pushed you away to a corner of his mind. Annoyed that whilst you were crying your eyes out every fucking day, he’s been getting closer to this girl.

It’s odd because it isn’t like Ross hadn’t had girlfriends before. You have witnessed him with girlfriends since you met him.

But there was an end to that and it was when you first kissed on Christmas day a year ago. Ever since that day, your dynamic had shifted and you had been perhaps flirting a bit more, but it never went further than that. But he also didn’t get a girlfriend after that and maybe, despite having to leave for university, you had held out hope that it would stay that way.

How foolish of you.

Cookies are finished and put on the oven in deafening silence, a very awkward one that makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You can breathe again when he leaves as soon as your parents come back downstairs with more presents to place under the tree. He says something about going back home to get ready and making sure his parents don’t come over late before he closes the door behind himself.

Suddenly, the prospect of having Christmas dinner with the MacDonald family is suffocating and you want to be able to hide in your room and avoid it entirely, but you can’t.

Not when Ross’ mum and dad envelope you in the tightest hugs and tell you how much they’ve missed having you around. You have to bite your tongue not to start crying, especially when you see Ross standing behind them over their shoulders with a forced smile that reminds you how badly you had fucked up earlier.

You’re incredibly grateful for the fact that your parents take over the conversation aspect of dinner, because Ross barely looks at you or speaks to you all throughout it. It only saddens you more, a bit of anger brewing inside you too.

It’s too tense to enjoy, too awkward to even feel a hint of the warmth Christmas day often brings you.

When dinner is over and your mum tells the both of you it’s time for your annual Christmas pictures, it becomes even more awkward—as if that was possible.

His arm falls over your shoulder like dead weight, his fingers don’t even hold you in place. So when you wrap your arm around his waist, you barely make an effort to hold him close to you. Your smiles are forced on your faces, no dimples biting at his cheeks, your lips almost look pressed together instead of showing a toothy grin to the camera like you’ve always done before.

Your mum sighs but takes a picture anyway. She has no idea why you two are acting this way but she doesn’t care, she just wants a cute picture. “Oh c’mon kids, where’s the kiss?”

A roll of your eyes is what your mum sees, and she’s about to scold you when you say in a forced amused tone, “Think we’re a bit too old for mistletoe kisses now, no?”

Silence again. Second after second of quietness that only makes the weight on your shoulders heavier.

It’s ironic how much heavier it feels when Ross lifts his arm off your shoulders and lets it fall limply on his side at the same time as he agrees, “We are.”

You take your arm off his waist instantly. You’re left standing awkwardly beside the other and despite your mum’s confusion, which is clear in her frown, she presses the shutter and the picture is taken and begins printing in a blink of an eye.

As soon as the whirring of the printing polaroid stops, you regret ever letting those words out of your mouth.

Because not only do you get a hasty hug from Ross when he and his parents leave your house, the next morning is accentuated by the lack of his presence.

No more ‘sweetheart’. No more pictures of kisses on cheeks under the mistletoe. No lazy Boxing day morning.

And, apparently, no walking to Matty’s together either.

You’ve been waiting for his call all day. First, to see if he was coming over to show each other your presents like you always do, but no call came through. And now, you’re three hours into waiting for him to call you and tell you to walk out so you can go to Matty’s together for the gift exchange.

No call comes and since you’ve been ready to go for a while and you don’t want to be late, you just rush downstairs and leave.

Walking down the roads you’ve missed so much, alone, is another wave of pain that you didn’t know you could feel just by the absence of someone. No one has ever meant this much to you before that the lack of their presence chips away at your heart, piece by piece.

When you get to the Healy residence, you get crushing hugs from everyone that’s already there. Except from Ross, of course, because he’s already there, splayed on a loveseat and he barely makes the effort to hug you hello.

As the inevitable catching up happens all over again, since you’re still waiting for the rest of your friend group to arrive, you have to hide the truth and put on a fake smile when talking about how university is going. But it’s hard when you have no new friends, and you’re struggling through most of your classes thanks to how homesick you feel.

Change is a nightmare to you and you’re reminded of how much things are changing at a quick pace when an hour goes by and no one else shows up.

Seems like no matter how vocal about the promise of always coming back Danielle had been, she and Sarah weren’t coming at all. Jodie shares a sad smile with you and puts away the gift bags from them, leaving only the ones for everyone who’s currently there.

The warmth you have been craving since you got there finally washes over you when everyone opens up their gifts. Laughter, cooing and many thank yous go around the living room, it gives you the hope that maybe it’s not been all ruined.

You’re looking forward to the New Year’s Eve party until George asks Ross if he’s asked Katie about it and the way Ross blushes is enough for everyone but you and Jodie to start a ruckus, teasing and making jokes about the girl and Ross.

“Yes, she’s coming over on the 31st…” Ross sighs, rubbing his flushed face to hide how flustered he’s gotten. But then he drops his hand and looks around the place, brows shooting up and eyes widening like he’s giving a warning, “You lot better play nice.”

However, it’s the way his eyes grow stern when they fall on you that you know he means it seriously when it comes to you.

So you take it seriously.

You know you’ve been the one to put this tension between you and it’s in your hands to right your wrongs, so you want to take this opportunity to apologise for your irrationality on the previous days.

You’ve mentally prepared, gone over what Ross told you the day you got home and recognised how great of a person Katie sounded like. It actually makes you smile when thinking she’s been such a good help for him to adjust to his new teaching gig, how she and Ross have gone through the novelty of it together; and convincing yourself that despite the horrendous feeling that clouds your insides, she’s been a good addition to Ross’ life.

But it doesn’t matter that you’ve reached those conclusions and that you’re actually gotten yourself excited enough to meet her, because when you get to Matty’s with two bottles of vodka and a pack of Ross’ favourite beer—an apology gift if you will—, Ross fully avoids you.

He gives you a tight lip smile and a nod of his head as a hello, he turns to Katie and says, “Katie, this is Y/N.”

You’re left trying to awkwardly act like the fact that Ross has left you with your arms open and awaiting a hug hasn’t hurt you, and you really try your best to push the ugly feeling aside when you smile at her and offer your hand out for her to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Katie. I’ve heard loads about you.”

She blushes and lets out the cutest giggle, and of course it’s that which finally makes Ross smile.

“Oh, really? That’s erm, good to hear.” She finally grabs your hand after giving Ross a side look to which he smirks. You really have to fight the scowl that wants to take over your face when she shakes your hand, “Nice to meet you too.”

He snakes an arm around her waist and you take that as a sign to get yourself away from the situation. Before you can say something you’ll regret even more, or even pick a fight with Ross for his indifference.

The need to call him out for it grows as the night continues, for he doesn’t even look at you. He keeps a straight face when you speak, doesn’t even look at you when you clearly throw a comment or ask a question to him, he doesn’t speak to you at all. And everyone fucking notices, the looks they keep sending your way are enough to know that they know something is wrong.

But you can’t explain, not right then at least. So you keep to yourself, pouring yourself drink after drink, and you start being petty and mirror his behaviour: you laugh louder to annoy him, messing about with George and Matty obnoxiously, ignoring any comment or joke he could make to the rest of the group.

You walk past the line of tipsy and start getting drunker and drunker when midnight gets closer. The memory of how it had been the previous year makes you glare at him. He has her almost sitting on his lap as she delicately takes sip after sip of her cup, and it enrages you that he’s drinking the beer you bought him when he hasn’t even thanked you for it!

How is it that you were kissing him a year ago and now you’re watching him being all lovey dovey with a girl he has just met?

It’s an understatement to say you’re fucking pissed by midnight. George has been laughing at your clumsiness for a while now, but he has joined you when you started drinking the vodka straight from the bottle instead of mixing it with fizzy lemonade like you had been all night.

When the countdown starts, you set the almost empty vodka bottle on the coffee table and start screaming along.

Matty is beside you and he grabs your shoulders and shakes you in excitement, making you laugh loudly, but you let yourself fall back so you’re resting over his chest and he rests his chin on your shoulder, counting down right in your ear.

It is the second everyone yells, “Happy New Year!” that you act before your brain can process and, suddenly, you’re kissing Matty.

He gasps when your lips meet and you lick into his mouth, but the curly haired brunette doesn’t pull back, instead he cups your face and tilts your head to put you in an angle where he can kiss you comfortably and he even moans into your mouth when your fingers tangle in his curls and pull on them.

The surprise of what’s happening is enough to make everyone gasp instead of wishing each other a happy new year, and soon whistles and ruckus drowns the room. Everyone but Ross participates in the disturbance. The bassist is biting his tongue as he sees you basically eating Matty’s face. His fingers tighten around Katie’s waist and she turns around to see him when she feels the change in his hold.

Ross forces a smile and Katie gasps, “I didn’t know they were a thing!”

“Me neither,” he manages out through his teeth.

It doesn’t matter that he’s doing a poor job at hiding what’s going through his head because Katie is more interested in seeing what happens next with you and Matty.

The feeling of tears rolling down your cheeks and tasting the saltiness in the kiss, makes Matty pull back. He hears you whine and you pucker up your lips to continue the kiss but Matty pulls back, clutching your face a bit tighter so you can open your eyes and look at him while he whispers, “Do you wanna leave Y/N/N?”

Matty knows you far better than you think and he knows that this kiss has no other meaning behind it other than the fact that you’re too drunk and he’s quite sure he knows why you have been so reckless with your drinking tonight. And, despite being drunk himself, he has to try and get a hold of his bearings and help you out.

You nod, embarrassed when another tear rolls down your cheek. When he wipes it with his thumb before anyone can see it, you whisper back, “Can we go up to your room? Can’t be here anymore.”

His curls bounce on his head when he nods and you’re grateful he holds you by your waist when you stand up and walk upstairs to his room.

“Y’alright?” Matty asks when he closes the door behind the two of you.

You wait until he sets you on the edge of his bed to answer, “No.”

He knows it’s all because of Ross, not only because of his behaviour tonight, but maybe because you felt some type of way for his best mate and now you were stuck in this situation. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not– Don’t apologise. This is just me being fucking stupid, expecting everything to be the same when I came back home.” The despair is clear in your voice and he kneels in front of you when you let your head hang for the tears can’t be stopped anymore. You shake your head as you think about all that you have felt for months and how, after tonight, the feelings that have flooded your system are just the same, “But I’m so sad, Matty. I’m so lonely.”

It breaks his heart to hear you like this, when your shoulders shake as you silently sob, he squeezes your thighs to make you look into his eyes when he says, “You’ve got us. Always.”

Another shake of your head breaks his heart, your words not helping at all when you say, “Not back there. I wish I did.”

Matty knows it is not the moment to ask about it, but he will ask how you truly are doing in London afterwards. For now, he brushes your hair behind your ears and asks, “Do you want me to stay?”

“Please?” Your voice breaks when you add, “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

He quickly stands on his feet and crushes you in a hug, “I’m right here, darling. I’ve got you.”

Matty stays with you for a while, and Ross sees red when another ten minutes go by and neither of you come back downstairs. He grabs Katie’s hand and convinces her to leave, and the girl of course accepts because despite really having enjoyed herself, she would rather have Ross all to herself.

Ross stomps his way back home with Katie in hand. He’s fucking fuming at both you and Matty, because of course you would act all childishly when finding out he has met a girl and has been taling to her, and use one of his best mates to get back at him.

He shakes his head and huffs angrily, deciding right then and there that he’s done with your behaviour. And he ignores the feeling that burns his insides at the thought of you and Matty together on a night like this. He chooses to focus on Katie, sweet Katie who’s giggling and sharing her favourite things about tonight.

Stopping in the middle of the road, he wraps an arm around Katie’s waist and presses her flush against his chest, brings a hand up to her face and kisses her passionately.

He shuts his eyes tightly and tries his best not to compare this kiss to the one you had shared a year ago, willing himself to have Katie be all he thinks about from now on.

Even when you come knocking on his door two days later.

A soft smile is on your face when he opens the door and you greet him with a quiet, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

He sounds and looks wary, like he’s trying not to say too much either with his words or his facial expressions.

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers as you let him know, “Erm… I’m going back.”

He frowns, “Already?”

You know it’s odd, it’s the middle of the week and classes don’t start again until Monday so there’s no reason for you to leave in such a hurry, but you just can’t stay here when everything is like this. You had wanted to come back home to spend your time with him, not ruining your friendship in the worst possible way and now, all you wanted to do was run away before you could get yet another chance to fuck things up even more.

“Yeah. Gotta go back.”

“Did you have fun?” Ross asks with a tone in his voice that makes you freeze in your spot.

It feels like it’s a trick question but you can’t really think about why. Mainly because you can’t remember much about the party other than how awful Ross had acted with you, but you don’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing he had been the reason for the way you had drank.

So you try to smile even brighter now, nodding as you reply, “I did. It was really fun.” It hadn’t really, because not only had you been feeling so awful because of him, you had woken up with the worst fucking hangover of your life. Matty had been lovely and helped you until you felt well enough for him to take you back home, but you were still feeling the effects of such a horrible night.

You made a joke of it, very nonchalantly adding, “Still feeling a little rough but it’s alright.”

But since you have no clue of what Ross thinks happened, your words make his stomach churn and he scoffs humourlessly, “Right. Well, I’ll see you next year then.”

The way he says it makes you feel like instead of saying goodbye like you had come over with the intention of doing, he’s pushing you away with a halfhearted farewell to just get it over with.

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as you try not to cry, and with a small voice you agree, “Yes. You will.”

“Good,” Ross says, though he isn’t sure if he means it or not.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Katie and Ross had gotten together officially on Valentine’s day of 2008, or so you saw back then when she posted it on Facebook—after Matty had begged you to make yourself a profile on the new social media page, the lads had sent you friend requests and along with them came Katie and a bunch of people from school you had barely ever spoken to.

The biggest change since you left Wilmslow at the very start of the year has been that you barely ever speak to Ross, either through the phone or through messages on Facebook. You had called him on his birthday to congratulate him and so he had done the same when yours approached.

Matty has been the one to take his place, even if it has been in a way different way than what Ross ever was to you. You’re still so incredibly grateful for Matty, he’s the one to help you on your worst days and is a great person to vent to when you couldn’t keep everything to yourself any longer.

With someone there to be entirely transparent to, hearing you and helping you through your struggles, university got the tiniest bit easier.

And though it still wasn’t the greatest thing ever, you were scared of leaving your dorm to take a coach back home for the holidays with how everything had turned out the year before.

So you’re more anxious than excited when you sit by the window and open a book you’ve brought to keep you distracted from your thoughts on the long drive up to Manchester.

It’s futile, for you have to read each paragraph twice and you barely have gotten halfway through the book with how distracted you’ve gotten by your own mind throughout the ride home. Any other day, six hours would be enough for you to finish a three hundred and something pages long book, but not today.

Your dad greets you with the biggest hug at the airport station and once you get inside his car, it feels real enough that you can’t stay still. Not even when you get home and go upstairs to your room after hugging your mum hello.

You’re pacing around your room, sitting on the edge of your bed for a handful of seconds only to spring back up and start pacing again. A vicious cycle that continues for far longer than you would like to admit, until the loud knocking on your front door startles you out of your trance and poses a good excuse to do something.

“I got it!” You yell out to your mum who’s making hot chocolate in the kitchen, and you hum when she thanks you.

When you open the door, Ross greets you with a loud, “Hi!” and a toothy smile that you haven’t seen in ages.

Through the shock, you manage to say, “Oh hi!”

And you become even more shocked when he goes straight to the point, “Heard you’d finally arrived so I thought I’d come by and ask you if you wanted to come over later? You know, to catch up, maybe watch a film and have some hot chocolate…”

“Oh? Yeah, sure. That sounds good,” you somehow manage, but you’re sure your wide eyes and your parted mouth is enough for him to know you’re surprised.

“Brilliant,” he smiles easily and asks just to be sure, “Around six?”

You nod, swallowing hard before answering, “Sure. I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

In all honesty, you thought he hated you. With everything that happened a year ago, most of it all being your own fault, you expected to not see him until Boxing day at Matty’s when you were due to exchange gifts, but here he is inviting you over to have a day to yourselves like you used to back in the day.

There’s a spark of hope that brings tears to your eyes. Maybe you haven’t lost him just yet and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Your parents see the change in your demeanour when you come into the kitchen with the brightest smile and let them know you’ll be going to Ross’ house around six to hang out. They truly couldn’t be happier because they had always loved the friendship the two of you shared, and your mum had been highly suspicious about your lack of Ross talk ever since last Christmas.

But you had cheered way too early for when you knock on Ross’ door and he lets you in, you’re met with a smiling Katie in the middle of the living room waving you over.

The shock leaves you frozen in your spot and Ross watches as Katie’s smile falters when she asks if you’re alright. Ross doesn’t even have to see your face to see how tense you are and the tone in your voice when you say, “Yes! I’m fine. Sorry. It’s so good to see you again.” is enough for him to know this is gonna cost you some effort.

You take one of the settees while Katie takes her place on the loveseat across from you and Ross is off to the kitchen to bring the mugs of hot chocolate he had promised.

When he’s back, you and Katie are exchanging some lighthearted small talk. He hands you a mug and hopes that with his presence there, he can help you and Katie to get to know each other better. After all, he still considered you one of his best friends and Katie had now been his girlfriend for ten months, so it’s well overdue to have you and Katie properly getting along.

But it seems like that isn’t happening any time soon. You’re trying your best not to be awkward, to be nice and find interest in everything she’s saying but Ross knows you so well, anger starts boiling his blood when he sees how much you’re forcing it all.

It doesn’t sit well with him how you can’t even hack simple conversation with his girlfriend, and despite a voice inside his head pointing out that you really are trying, he can’t help but become more and more infuriated by the lack of sincerity of your words and behaviour.

The last nail in the coffin is when you cut short one of Katie’s stories about one of her and Ross’ dates and say that you’re sorry but you need to head back home. And, even when Katie points out it’s just a quarter to ten, you hold your ground and continue saying you really needed to go.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” Ross says once he’s shut the door behind him as he walks you out.

You turn around to see him rubbing his face in exhaustion, “Excuse me?”

He groans, exasperated, “Can you just, for once, not be a bitch to her?”

Your mouth opens agape at his choice of words and you struggle to find your words, “What? How am I–”

“You are! You know damn well you are!” He interrupts with fury, “I thought it had just been bad last year ‘cause it was your first time coming back home for the holidays and it was a bit of an intrusion to have her join our friend group, but now? There’s no excuse for how fucking fake you’re being to her.”

Like a fish out of water, your mouth opens and closes as you try to find what to say, “Ross, I–”

It isn’t good enough for him and he interrupts, “No, I don’t wanna hear it.”

He can see the tears welling up your eyes and he has to stop himself from rolling his, “You either treat her like a decent human being or–,” he trails off as he thinks. It is then that he looks at you sternly and spits out with venom laced through his words, “Or maybe, you know what? You should just leave. Go back to London.”

Words could never describe that pain that ripples through your body when he says that, you can barely say with a broken voice, “If that’s what you want.”

And not even the fact that you’re about to sob stops him from being so harsh on you. He nods, “I do. It’s for the best of everyone here that you just go.”

“Okay,” you whisper before turning on your heels and walking quickly down the road, rushing to go into your house.

Your mum and dad see the desperation with which you open the door and slam it shut behind you, and they barely catch the tears running down your cheeks when you run upstairs and lock yourself in your room.

Toeing off your shoes, you walk up to your window and shut the curtains, to then turn off your lights and in utter darkness, you shed yourself of your clothes and put on your pyjamas before hiding yourself under your sheets and starting to sob.

Your chest hurts with every cry that you try to smother by pressing your face into your pillow, and it is right then that you know you won’t be able to stay for long. You will unfortunately give Ross the pleasure of listening to his words and go back to London, but not before actually having Christmas dinner with your family and giving everyone their Christmas gifts on Boxing day. You would endure only two more days and then you would be gone. Spending New Years alone in your dorm didn’t sound as depressing as spending it here where you didn’t feel welcome anymore, not with Ross right there.

Before Christmas dinner, your mum sends you over with a big gingerbread cake for the MacDonalds; since they aren’t coming over for dinner that year, as Katie was spending it with Ross and his parents, the tradition of sending over treats has come alive again.

You’re so grateful that it is his mum to open the door, not feeling strong enough to see his face again. But it’s extremely hard for you not to let your tears spill down the corners of your eyes when she invites you inside to share the treat with everyone. You politely decline and instead make her laugh when you have her promise to let you know how she finds the cake.

Throughout the whole of Christmas dinner with your parents, your mind is gone somewhere else. You barely touch your food and can’t really keep track of the conversation they try to lure you into. After dinner is over and you’ve put the dirty dishes on the dishwasher, you manage to focus enough to appreciate the gifts your parents got for you and to relish in the reactions to the gifts you got them.

Unfortunately, as you go on Facebook to wish Matty, George and Adam a merry Christmas, you catch a glimpse of a picture Ross has uploaded only a few hours ago, and it’s needless to say that your heart breaks in a billion pieces and you sob yourself to sleep like a fool.

How could you not when he’s posted a picture of Katie and him kissing under the mistletoe, reminding you of a tradition that’s now long gone, along with your friendship it seems.

And when you wake up and spend the entire morning of Boxing day alone, falling in and out of sleep, you’re reminded of yet another tradition you used to share that is far gone and adds to your heartache.

Your anguish makes you lose track of time and your appetite, and apparently your rationality as well because you spend hours making a pros and cons list in your mind about showing up to Matty’s before you realise you should just go and give everyone the presents you had already spent your money on. You’re leaving anyway and it would be far better if you just didn’t have all those gifts to look back to and remind you just how everything has turned out this year.

Plus, you had made a promise to keep coming back to see them every year and, after Sarah and Danielle had broken that promise the very first chance it had been time to prove it, you didn’t want to follow their steps.

However, since you’ve wasted all day trying to make that decision, you’re definitely late to the gift exchange.

By the time you get there, you look like an utter mess from how quickly you had gotten ready and how fast you had walked over there, but everyone greets you with sweet smiles and warm hugs.

Everyone but Ross. Yet again. Even Katie envelopes you in a tight hug that you reciprocate, but Ross merely pats your back when you swing an arm around his shoulder to hug him.

You sigh and try brushing it off as you sit beside Matty, who wastes no time to hug you into him and ask if you were alright. Nodding, you assure him wordlessly you were but your eyes say you’re going to talk to him about it later and he nods in understanding.

“Are we gonna start now, then, or what?” Ross says grumpily. He had been the one annoyed at your impunctuality, pushing everyone to just get on with it and not wait for you anymore.

No one will tell you this because it just wouldn’t help at all.

Everyone in the room can see that things between you and Ross are somehow worse than last year, even Katie can tell and it confuses her a lot, because all had been fine when you had come over on Christmas Eve and the three of you had spent the evening together.

Katie doesn’t even know if she should ask. In all honesty, she doesn’t know how to even ask or if she should ask you or Ross or both.

But she puts the matter to the side when you all start exchanging gifts—knowing that Katie was joining this year, everyone has gotten her gifts as well so the girl truly feels like a part of the group—and it is a nice distraction from the clear tension in the room when everyone gets to open their presents.

When Ross thanks you last for what you’ve gotten him with the meekest tone, you have to really force a smile to say, “You’re welcome.” But everyone can see just how much of an effort it is for you to sound nonchalant about it.

Matty is about to snap out at Ross for being an absolute twat when you stand up after gathering all of your gift bags and announce, “Well, I unfortunately gotta go now boys.”

George frowns, “What? Why?”

“It’s barely eight, Y/N,” Adam reminds you softly.

The shake of your head confuses them more and so do your words, “I mean go back to London. I can’t stay longer this year.”

Matty is the one who’s more vocal about his confusion, his words clearly a brutal inquiry as to your reasoning since he knows how much you’d rather be anywhere else but in uni, “Why? Where are you spending New Years? In your dorm?”

“Yeah, it’s just,” you trail off when you can’t really find something to say. Your eyes shift to look at Ross, the reason for your early goodbye, and the second your eyes lock on his, he averts his gaze like he has nothing to do with this. You sigh and excuse, “Something came up, and I really gotta go.”

No one buys it, but they still hug you the tightest they can before bidding you farewell.

“Hope you have the best time on New Year’s Eve. Happy New Year you lot!” You call out as you walk to the front door, “Love yous!”

Alone and in a silence that sickens you, you walk back home.

When you get there, you can’t stop the tears that slide down your cheeks when you tell your parents you’re going back early and you don’t even let your dad offer himself to drive you to the station for you swear you’ve got a ride and it’s all fine.

They want to ask what’s wrong but they don’t when they see the fact that you don’t want to talk about it written on your face. So they leave you to go upstairs and into your room to pack your things up as you silently cry over how poorly it has all gone.

This is the second year you feel like Ross is slipping away from your grasp, and it has you desperate but the only person you have to blame is yourself, for feeling that stupid ownership over him when he isn’t yours, when he has never been yours.

You should be mature enough to keep his friendship, not ruin it because you’re jealous and you feel alone. You should be happy he’s found someone to appreciate him for who he is, to give him the love he deserves when you are gone.

The feeling of disappointment in yourself haunts you as you walk down the stairs and hug your parents goodbye. And that feeling slaps you in the face like the cold winds of December, when you open the door and walk out to Ross waiting there.

He doesn’t say anything though, not when you gasp at his presence, not when you walk up to him and stand right beside him as you wait for the taxi you had phoned to pick you up.

You’re there staring ahead, wishing he was as selfish and horrible as yourself, wishing he would just beg you to stay and say he’d leave his girlfriend behind so you could take her place.

But Ross isn’t selfish nor a bad person like you are. He just stands there in silence and lets his presence be company and goodbye enough for you to settle before you’re gone again.

He offers you a cigarette that you take gracefully, and he lights it up for you without needing to hear you ask for it. The two of you stand there, side by side, smoking together in utter silence.

Your taxi gets there shortly after and he silently watches you put your case in the boot of the car before you throw the cigarette onto the pavement and stomp on it. You open the back door and take one last look at him before getting inside the vehicle.

Not a wave nor a goodbye, much less a hug. Nothing but silence is what he offers as you go.

It isn’t until you get further and further away, disappearing in the distance and becoming smaller as you drive away in the back of that taxi that his gaze drops to the pavement to watch the bud of the cigarette crushed, and it is then that Ross realises he hadn’t heard you cough, not even once, and he frowns to himself.

He really doesn’t know you anymore and he can’t help but wonder if that is for the better.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N: Part 2 is coming to you in exactly a week so don't yell at me just yet please!!! I promise I'll make it up to you. Let me know what you thought and what you hope happens next! It seems a bit cruel to wish you a merry Christmas after this but I really do hope yous all have a lovely Christmas! xx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @kennedy-brooke @abiiors @everythinggetsfuzzy103 @on-administrative-leave @ughgoaway @harryssiren @2kwreck @obses-sedd @scarlett-grace-2 @taylorswiftsrep-blog @solitariodecartas @cherryofmydesire @momentum2023 @soggynoodles02 (i wasn't sure who wanted to be tagged or not so send me a message if you wanna be off the taglist for this story)

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i-heart-hxh · 3 months ago

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Do you think Kurapika will die by the end of the series? I’ve seen lots of people saying he will, and that togashi said he will, but i don’t think i’m sold.

largely i just think it would be a poor ending to his character. i don’t think him dying and the Kurta being lost forever would be a very satisfying ending. (although, i trust togashi to make any direction he ends up going in very good.)

i especially don’t think it will happen any time soon at the current point in the story. there’s just far too many loose ends that haven’t been tied up. i sincerely doubt he would die while the troupe is still active or the eyes are still out there.

I think what’s most likely to happen is that we get a technical death, similar to what happened to gon, where he “dies” but is brought back to life due to some dark continent fuckery and possibly some of leorio’s medical knowledge. bonus points if we get a classic scene of dead love ones encouraging him to keep living, lol

as a follow up to my last anon (about kurapika): i think it would be unnecessarily sad to make kurapika die permanently. maybe it would make sense, character wise, as he is totally driving himself into the ground at the moment. but i have a hard time envisioning a way that end could be a satisfying one. it would mark the absolute decimation of the kurta. permanently lost to time, with absolutely no hope of any kind of revival. kurapika is currently the only person with a deep knowledge of the kurta culture and traditions, and the only person who could pass that knowledge on. or even pass on the scarlet eyes. it kind of reminds me of the air nomads from avatar. but it would be like, if aang died in the process of fighting ozai and no other air benders were born after that

Hi anon! It's funny you sent this, I actually was just thinking about making another post about my guesses on Kurapika's fate about an hour before I received this. Good timing! I actually did a poll on this topic a while back and then added some of my thoughts after it finished. However, my thoughts and guesses have solidified quite a bit since then.

I agree with you--I actually think Kurapika is likely to pull through, albeit potentially after a death and then revival or some other drastic near-death situation similar to what happened to Gon. I agree that it's hard to imagine a fulfilling ending where Kurapika doesn't survive (though I have faith in whatever Togashi may have planned, even if it goes completely against my guesses). I have some thoughts to add on why this is my guess as well.

First off, the way Leorio's character is set up. Putting him in the same place as Kurapika while he's training as a doctor, knowing that his largest character motivation is not to lose any more friends... It would be awfully cruel for Togashi to have Leorio go through Kurapika's death in light of that. His role as a doctor needs to be tested and come to fruition, and his character arc needs to come full circle as someone who deeply wants to prevent his friends from dying.

Secondly, the themes of the series. I've talked about this a lot in discussions of Gon and Killua's relationship, but some primary themes of the series are second chances and the transformative power of love and human connection. When thinking about the series through that lens, having Kurapika not pull through after all (and having Leorio lose him), does not feel like it's in line with those themes. Kurapika needs a second chance to connect with the world of the living and find meaning in those around him.

I also suspect that Kurapika's storyline is going to come down to a choice between two things: Life and death, but not just his own. Here's why:

Kurapika, obsessed with getting revenge for the Kurta clan and gathering the body parts of his murdered family and friends, is currently guarding a baby. I think he will be put in a situation where he has to make a choice between Woble's life, and getting his revenge and gathering the body parts of his loved ones. He already had to make a similar choice once, in Yorknew. He had Chrollo in his grasp, he could have killed him, but ultimately he had to choose between doing this and Gon and Killua's lives--and he chose Gon and Killua's lives. He isolated himself from his friends as a result of this, trying to force himself to stay on his path of revenge without letting anyone get in his way (including, perhaps most importantly, himself), but now he's in a position again where it seems likely his plans will go off track when he has to choose between a living child and his people, who are already long dead.

(I also suspect he might find out the Phantom Troupe wasn't responsible--or at least wasn't entirely responsible--for the Kurta massacre and his ultimate antagonist will be Tserriednich, but that's a bit of a digression that I can talk about in more depth another time.)

I think ultimately this is how his character is set up: Will he choose to focus only on what he's lost and those who are already dead and on causing more death (including ultimately his own), or will he decide to protect and focus on those around him who are still living and on finding reasons to live himself (likely in Leorio, Gon, and Killua, among others)? It's true that, if he continues to live, he can bring the memories of the Kurta into the future with him, to honor those he lost, rather than living only for revenge that I'm sure his loved ones wouldn't even want him to burn down his life for. It's a bleak ending for him if he doesn't survive, and the Kurta would simply fade into history forever with him, like you were saying.

So, it's possible he will "die" or very nearly die in a fight against Tserriednich, in order to protect Woble, and then Leorio will have to find some way to get him to pull through--possibly using his training, possibly using something in the Dark Continent, maybe both. It would satisfy both of their character arcs to a certain degree and make sense with the trajectories they're on.

As usual, however, Togashi is unpredictable and he could have something entirely different up his sleeve, or even be misdirecting the audience on what he's trying to do. Only time will tell! But in the meantime, I agree with you that Kurapika's probably going to make it, even with the dire circumstances he's currently in.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #kurapika #meta #long post #leorio #asks #anonymous #my posts

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kingofthering · 11 months ago

Text

vr46 Marc, a little over 900 words that came from : this video of Vale presenting his helmets collection, this text post of mine and this poll by @moonshynecybin

set in Tavullia at Vale's museum, after Valencia 2023

"Okay, so," Valentino starts right next to his ear. Marc still doesn't think that his step ladder is made for two people and the lack of space has Valentino pressed against his back, their left hands almost touching where they're both holding onto the highest bar. Valentino uses his right hand to point at a line of helmets and Marc follows his instruction. "Here we have the people that made me have my best moments in MotoGP," Valentino says. He's using his teaching voice, the one he uses when he's explaining something to the guys at the ranche, his hand going wild in front of a paper board and the circuit clipped to it. Marc feels hot. He keeps his eyes on the helmets in front of him. "Andrea Dovizioso, Casey Stoner, Jorge Lorenzo, Dani Pedrosa, and, from the race in Valencia in 2023 when he was racing for my team and helped us win the team championship, Marc Marquez."

Marc looks at his helmet, reads the message that he spent way too much time thinking about before finally being able to put a marker against the visor. He already knows his message by heart. Already could recite what Valentino wrote for him, too.

Valentino's chin dips into Marc's shoulder and his hand cover Marc's on the handle bar. "I"m sorry it took so long to get there but it's fixed, now."

Marc closes his eyes. It's fixed now. Right. The implications of those words feel like so much, even for Valentino's standards.

Marc takes a deep breath. "I almost slept with a stranger in Thailand. A guy I met at the hotel bar."

When Marc opens his eyes, he watches Valentino's hand leave his, can feel the heat from Valentino's chest disappearing as he draws back. When Marc turns around, Valentino is back on the ground, leaning against the counter of the central island just a meter in front of Marc.

Valentino has his arms crossed in front of himself but it doesn't feel defensive, not really. He doesn't seem mad, either. His head is tilted to the side, waiting Marc out.

Marc stays on the top step of the stool. Being taller than Valentino for once is not that bad of a thing, Marc doesn't care about how ridiculous he looks.

"We were just talking and then I received a text from you, the one where you asked me if we could get lunch or dinner together when I got to Malaysia, and I guess something must have showed on my face because I ended up talking to him about you. We moved on after that and he offered to have a last drink in his room and I contemplated it but I just couldn't."

Marc watches as Valentino opens his mouth, ready to react. He shakes his head. "Don't. Don't say I should have or don't apologize, it's not– Don't bother. The not having been with anyone since I got here is a me issue and maybe you played a role in it since we kissed but it's fine. I'll fix it."

It might be a lie and the most ridiculous thing he's said in a while but Valentino doesn't need to know that or worse, call him out on it. It's bad enough that Marc is half admitting to it.

"Marc–"

"And please don't say that you haven't been with anyone else either just to please me. My ego is fine. I don't need that."

Valentino chuckles at that and Marc feels his cheeks go up in flames.

"You really think I've been fucking everyone left and right for the past months? That's who you think I am?"

Valentino does seem a little offended and Marc might feel bad about it, just a tiny bit. "Do you want me to remind you about your "making out while shotgunning just happens easily" thing? And I've seen you flirt with people in the past, let's not pretend you can't have anyone you want."

The pictures from Indianapolis come flooding Marc's mind. Always Indianapolis. The guy on Valentino's lap, Valentino stealing a kiss from him, Valentino's hands finding the guy's hips while he stands behind him to dip his head down and kiss his neck, Marc on the other side of the room trying to not choke on his beer.

"Don't worry, I've left my whore tendencies in the past. I'm too old for that now, it shows."

Marc blinks at him, his face the definiton of disbelief.

"Oh come on Marc, I'm not fishing for compliments here. I'm hitting 45 in three months, you really want to pretend I didn't look better a decade ago?"

Marc huffs. "Well, not with those hideous sideburns, no."

Valentino bursts out laughing at that and Marc finds himself smiling with him, some of the tension in his shoulders getting released.

"Marc," Valentino calls for him again and this time he has one hand extended in front of himself. His face is open, gentle, maybe a little concerned too. It's a bunch of emotions Marc hadn't seen on Vale's face in a long time. It's a bunch of emotions Marc has gotten used to again over the last months, ones he could appreciate seeing more of, in the future.

Marc accepts Valentino's hand and steps down from the stool.

#rpf #4693 #my writing #vr46 marc au #I'm now rereading myself and I know the dialogue doesn't flow perfectly but we don't care tonight

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auroraescritora · 12 days ago

Text

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME - PERCY/NICO AU HIGH SCHOOL - CHAPTER XIX

Hello, how's it going? Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll. In fact, I didn't even know that so many people read the story in English; 49 votes, only two or three negative. So I'm glad to know I'm not writing for the walls. I've been thinking, it seems that polls are a good way of communicating. I'll use them from time to time to check if the plot is still going well. The chapters are short, but we'll get there slowly. I hope you enjoy it.

CHAPTER I / CHAPTER II / CHAPTER III / CHAPTER IV / CHAPTER V / CHAPTER VI / CHAPTER VII / CHAPTER VIII / CHAPTER IX / CHAPTER X / CHAPTER XI / CHAPTER XII / CHAPTER XIII / CHAPTER XIV / CHAPTER XV / CHAPTER XVI / CHAPTER XVII / CHAPTER XVIII

"Thank you. "Nico finally said when the Jackson family hugged him together, Sally almost crying while Grover and Tyson had a serious, neutral expression on their faces, reminding him of when Percy was trying to control himself so that he wouldn't destroy everything he saw along the way.

He liked that too, knowing he could count on the whole family. And since he was being honest, why not carry on?

"You know? I haven't seen Hades in years. Is really necessary to work so hard because of him? I was thinking of something more effective.”

"Whatever you need, dear." This time, it was Sally who said it, already composing herself; the mother giving space to the businesswoman.

"I was thinking about emancipation." When no one said anything, Nico decided to close his eyes and keep on talking. "Hades has control of my mother's possessions and, as an only child, I won't have access to them until I'm twenty-one. If I speed up things, I can try to recover what is mine before Hades destroys everything.”

"I don't understand, Hades can't touch that money without the court's permission." Tyson said, confused.

"That's the problem. My mother had stocks and other assets that Hades has access to. Most of what he has comes from my mother.”

"Are you telling us that it was your mother who was rich and not Hades?"

Now it was Percy who seemed unhappy.

"Hades used to be a bank manager. Mama fell in love with him and I was born. In fact, Bianca is my half-sister, like you already know. My grandfather is a big farmer, you know? Mama used to help him before Hades showed up.”

"Wow. No, I did not know that." Grover muttered. "And your father is a son of a bitch.”

"He is. I didn't feel safe telling anyone this, but now that he can't hurt me, it's time to get back everything he took from me.”

"We're going to help. Tyson is going to start the preparations.”

"Can we take him by surprise? Try to get my mother's inheritance back and do the emancipation together? I don't want to give him time to fight back.”

"Of course. It's a great idea," Tyson said with a strange glint in his eyes. "He won't even notice when we catch him. I promise."

"Okay. I trust you. If emancipation doesn't work, can you be my guardians? I never want to go back to that house again."

"You have our word." Sally touched his shoulder, smiling at him with tears in her eyes. "We will destroy this man, even if it’s by force."

"You don't have to promise me. I just... I don't want to be under his control anymore. I don't know what might happen."

"Is Bianca okay living with him?"

"He's never treated Bianca the way he treats me."

"Oh, honey." Sally said and hugged him tightly, with Percy still holding him by the waist.

He refused to cry, refused to give Hades this pleasure, refused to continue under that man's control. While he was in Verona with his grandparents, cousins, and uncles, Hades hadn't had the courage to approach him. But now that no other adult was responsible for him, Hades thought he could boss him around. Well, Nico would prove it to that man and give him back a taste of what Hades had done to him.

"I'm fine. Is all in the past. I just want what's mine."

"We know," Percy finally said, coming out of his stupor. "I'll take care of you."

Nico knew that, Percy was saying those words so often that he was starting to believe it. Maybe they really did have a chance to get married in the future and build a family of their own, away from all this confusion and pain. Maybe if he behaved and did everything the right way, he would free himself from this nightmare, from these people who seemed determined to torture him.

***

After that, things seemed to calm down, but in a delicate way.

He said he should have kept quiet from the beginning, didn't he? Nico didn't understand exactly what was happening, but he did suspected something was going on.

Nico felt like Percy was distancing himself from him, as though he was loosening the leash of his collar to see how far Nico would go without supervision. Or maybe, that was just how he felt. Maybe Percy was giving him some space, some time for Nico to understand what was happening and take the next step with precaution.

Where Percy used to be by his side at every moment of the day, now someone else would replace him without Nico even realizing it. It was strange, the few times he found himself alone and was able to think, the effect of what Percy wanted became the opposite. This time alone made him think about life and the possibilities that the future held for him. It scared him, the uncertainty, seeing that he would have to take the reins of his own life if he wanted to live comfortably, when, in reality, all he wanted was for someone to come and tell him what was the right path to take.

That afternoon would be no different, making him lose himself in the succession of days, pleasant days with people who cared about him, but without the pleasure that Nico had become accustomed to receiving. Would a few days be enough for Percy to convince himself? Was he behaving as expected of him?

Nico was so tired of all that. He just got out of bed and walked around the house. He found Sally in the kitchen and declined the invitation to cook with her. He found Tyson in the study who offered to update him on the Hades case, and once again declined, passing Grover who was in the living room, going straight to the outside area of the house, the only place Percy could be.

There Nico found him, watching Percy swimming at fast speed in the pool, up and down, incessant and frantic, Nico having the impression that Percy was trying to punish himself and for something he should never be blamed for. When Nico finally got close enough to get a better look at Percy's profile, he remained silent, wondering if it was a good idea to break Percy's self-imposed routine. What if this was their future and Nico was just delaying and fighting against what was hopeless? Finding himself at a dead end, Nico sat down in one of the lounge chairs and carried on watching Percy swim furiously, looking like he was trying to take out all his frustration in the water.

It wouldn't be long now.

If Nico was still following their script, in a few minutes Percy would get out of the pool and go after him. Percy would hug him and smile at him, being all affectionate and they would spend the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening doing anything other than what they wanted to be doing. He was so tired of all this that Nico wasn't even surprised when Percy came out of the pool like someone was chasing after him, almost walking straight past him.

Nico felt like laughing, this was so ridiculous; Percy was ridiculous and he was ridiculous too. What were they waiting for? The trauma and the sadness to disappear so they could move on with their lives? That maybe with time and patience Nico would be a normal and mentally balanced person? The funniest thing was seeing Percy backing up and stopping next to his chair, smiling sheepishly at him. And what did Nico did? He smiled back, it was the only rational thing to do in a situation that made no sense at all.

"Hey, handsome. What are you doing here all alone?" Percy asked and crouched down, getting to his height and staring at him closely.

"I missed you."

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to know where you were."

"I'm here, like always."

Nico wanted to say it was a lie. Percy might be there, but he wasn't by his side anymore.

"What's happening to us?" He asked, feeling more tired with each passing moment.

"Nothing's happening." Percy said and smiled at him, gently touching his face. And that was the problem, nothing was happening and he needed something to happen immediately, or he would go completely crazy.

Nico almost let himself be carried away by the platonic caress, almost let Percy's calm smile fool him.

"Did I... did I do something wrong?"

"That would never be possible."

"You don't like me anymore?"

"Nico." Percy said in the calmest voice he had ever heard. "I think we should slow down.”

“More than this?”

“I…” Then the calm mask on Percy’s face broke. "I abused you. I never asked why you wouldn’t talk to your father. I never questioned why you cried and shook when you thought no one was watching. I need space. I thought it would be good for you too.”

“I don’t need space. I need you.”

Nico didn’t hesitate, he threw himself into Percy’s lap and hugged him tightly, feeling a lump form in his throat.

“Nico. I… I feel guilty. I’m just another one who wants to abuse you.” The important thing was that Percy hugged him back, tightly, holding him by the back of his neck and whispered in his ear. "I want to see you at my feet and I want to see you obeying everything I tell you to do. I want you to look only at me and think only about me. Do you think this is any different from what Hades was doing to you?”

“I don’t care.” There, he said it. “I want to do all of this for you.”

“Nico, please.”

“I’m tired. Why can’t I have what I want? Why is it so wrong to be under someone else’s control?”

He heard Percy groan and before he could react, Percy pulled him by the hair and made him face Percy, his green eyes blazing, as if Percy was about to devour him right there.

“You’re going to kill me. You know that? I’m trying to take care of you. I’m doing what’s best for you.”

“I don’t want the best, I just want to not feel so miserable all the time.”

Percy stared at him for a long moment, looking like he was going to break down at any moment, but finally his wish was granted; Percy pressed his lips against his and stayed like that for a few moments, allowing him to feel the warmth and touch that he had missed so much. And suddenly, it was enough for Nico. It wasn't the sex he missed, it was the warmth of Percy's body on his, the affection, the caring touch, the release of tension, the connection he hadn't found anywhere else.

Unfortunately, the moment was broken some time later. Percy's hands were still on his skin and he was still sitting on Percy's lap, they were still staring at each other as if the other would disappear if they looked away.

"I never wanted you to feel this way," Percy finally said, swallowing hard. "I feel like a monster. I'll-- I'll get over this, I just need some time."

"Do we need to stay apart? I don't want to learn about law from Tyson or about sports from Grover, I don't even want to learn new recipes from Sally. I promise I won't bother you."

"How can you say this to me?" That was all Percy said before he buried his face in his neck and Nico felt tears hit his skin, Percy's arms tightening around his waist.

"Oh." Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to corner Percy after all.

Nico was convinced of that when he heard the first sob. Why did everything he did go wrong? With a tight chest, Nico pulled Percy up and lay down with him on the lounger. He would obey Percy's wishes and give him the space he needed.

Suggestions or comments? Thank you for reading!

#percy jackson #percico #nico di angelo #pernico #my writing #there's no place like home #percy/nico

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pigeonwhumps · 7 months ago

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A look at what a BBU Tumblr dashboard might look like!

@bbu-on-the-side

CWs: BBU, pet whump, dehumanisation, everything that comes with that

🐢 turtleonhigh

As you start contemplating gifts for your loved ones, remember guys, a pet is for life, not just for Christmas! If you've never had a pet before, Domestics or Platonics are the best starter pets, but make sure to do your research thoroughly to keep your pet happy and healthy. Additionally, adopt, don't shop! There are so many pets desperately in need of loving homes. If you're insistent on purchasing from a supplier such as WRU rather than a shelter, choose refurbished. Give a pet the second chance they deserve!

🌟 thetruthinourstars

In Liberation this month: The shocking truth of WRU training away from prying eyes

🥸 bookworm420

https://www.liberation.com/20240423457899

(again. A year and a half after the first article and they're still having to expose it because no-one will listen...)

Oh come on, OP, everyone knows that's bullshit, spread by pet lib manipulators. Everyone: this is what bad actors look like!

🦀 just-a-crab

Sources?

#and before anyone leaps on me #i mean both of you #a reminder to always check where informations coming from

🍵 tea-and-pets

If prev was a pet, what would you give them as a little treat?

🐳 awhaleofatime

You guys are sick and perverted fuckers, I hope you know that

🌵 prickle

You're in the minority there mate

https://www.yougov.co.uk/topics/lifestyle/explore/HumanPets

🐳 awhaleofatime

🌞 sunshinestarlight

Stfu and let people have their fun, dude

#if you have nothing nice to say don't say anything at all #pet love #srsly dude leave us alone #polls

🐭 mouseandsammy

Sammy just adores his new outfit! Look at him go!

🌞 sunshinestarlight

❤️

🪶 fansofafeather

Ew, why am I getting WRU adverts on my dash constantly? Do I look like someone who would buy a pet to you?

🦴

Yes

🪶 fansofafeather

This was originally just a vent, but since you asked so nicely...

Does it help? Does it really?

Sources:

Stats show that 42% of vulnerable young people surveyed are scared of being picked up by WRU. Furthermore, spending on welfare in the UK has decreased by 26% over the past ten years, with ministers even saying that those who need help should become pets and go where they're wanted, where their "place" is. Vulnerable people need help, not encouragement to sign their lives away, and the pet industry isn't helping with that (even if you say that it isn't WRU's fault for merely existing, their adverts aren't glowing examples of a non-manipulative company).

I could go into way more detail, about the manipulation and propaganda, and what's been associated with them over the years, the politicians in their pockets holding up legislation that would hinder sign-ups, not to mention that this is actual, literal slavery, but I'll leave it here for now. If you're actually bothered you can ask, but I get the feeling you're not anyway.

How do you see your future? | YouGov

How do you feel about the alleged forced sign-ups by WRU and similar companies? | Liberation

Fact-check: Has welfare spending increased? | BBC Verify

Secretary for Work and Pensions overheard suggesting that welfare recipients "go where they're wanted" and become pets | The Guardian

WRU adverts 2000-2024 | National Archives

👯 pet-love

Callout post

Be aware. User @/sam-the-multifandom is an active member of the pet lib community, who has engaged in targeted harassment of pet owners and supporters. Evidence is in their top posts. Block and report, and spread the word to other members of the community so we can stamp out this disgusting behaviour.

👁️ eyesonthewall

Oh ffs OP. This is your evidence? Seriously? Stop lying and go back to the hole you crawled out of.

💗 nolongeracult

Proving OP's point right there. I'm former pet lib, and I can honestly say it's the most toxic community I've ever been a part of.

🍰 twopets-twocakes

Even more than the Star Wars fandom? 😝

💗 nolongeracult

YES

#pet love #their choice #petlib is toxic #love your pet #pet for life

#whump #whump writing #whump community #bbu #box boy universe #fake tumblr dash #bbu community

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hot-take-tournament · 1 year ago

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HOT TAKE TOURNAMENT

TOURNAMENT OVERTIME #158

Submission 461

Jesus' fursona is a donkey not a sheep

Me and my bestie have talked about this before. Jesus of Nazareth if he was an anthro animal would 100% be a donkey. People keep depicting him as a lamb but they're just cowards. I know it's because of the expression 'lamb of god' which honestly reminds me more of a very mid tier metalcore band than a title of Jesus because it makes no sense. Jesus is meant to be a shepherd wouldn't it make more sense for him to be a different animal than being a sheep himself? I don't care that sheep are supposed to holy or whatever - the only holy animal in my eyes are city pigeons (which is the fursona of the holy spirit btw) but this doesn't automatically mean that Jesus' fursona is a sheep. Donkey makes more sense since symbolically it was considered the inferior ride animal in comparison to a horse that a noble king would ride on. Even when Jesus was to be killed he rode on a donkey as opposed to a horse because it symbolizes his disregard for being considered a richly king (go anti-capitalist jesus!!!! im so sorry what the church did to you later) and thats cool. btw the devil's fursona is not a goat it's a frog hope this helps<#

Propaganda is encouraged!

Also, remember to reblog your favourite polls for exposure!

#hot take tournament #tournament poll #tumblr poll #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #hot take #unpopular opinion #cw religion #jesus christ #hot take overtime #religion #furry

86 notes · View notes

crystalsnow95z · 1 year ago

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We have a tie for my Halloween poll, so it's gonna be Taejoon story..the comments had two ideas, so there's gonna be a bonus story to be posted later.

Sickie: Taejoon with bad colds (cough, fever, sniffles, a bit of vom!t towards the end.)

Caretakers: Ot7

Namjoon could see the dim light underneath the blanket of Taehyung's phone, the younger boy scrolling on the screen. It was almost midnight, but it was clear both boys couldn't sleep. "Tae?"

Taehyung pops his head from underneath the blanket. "I'm sorry. Was I keeping you up?"

"No, you're fine. I couldn't sleep. I just wanted to know if you'd want to go for a walk with me. I saw a park on our way to the hotel." Namjoon offers, relieved when he sees Taehyung getting up.

"Put on a hat and a face mask. We might be in another country, but we still don't want to be recognized." Namjoon warns, getting up to do the same. They came to America to do a collaboration, but the project kept them busy for the past two days, giving them no free time.

Taehyung nods, digging out a beige beanie from his suitcase to cover up his red hair. "I'm ready." He says with a smile, pulling his jacket over his shoulders and taking the face mask from the pocket.

Namjoon does the same, using a black beanie to cover up his blonde hair, quickly putting on his jacket and shoes.

"Are you sure that jacket is heavy enough, hyung?" Taehyung questions.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. You're gonna be sweating it that heavy trench coat." Namjoon teases. "Do you have the hotel key?"

Taehyung grabs his wallet. "I do now. What happened to yours?"

"Let's go before it gets too late." Namjoon doesn't answer his question, leaving the room.

"Hyung did you lose it already?" Taehyung whispers. "It's only been two days."

"No. It's somewhere in that room. It's just misplaced." Namjoon blushes in embarrassment to be scolded by the younger member, making Taehyung giggle.

"Shh.. people are sleeping.." Namjoon leads the way out of the building, the crisp autumn air hitting them with a cool breeze.

"Wow, even at night, all the colors are amazing.." Taehyung's eyes brighten seeing the orange and yellow trees underneath the street lamps, taking out his phone to take a picture.

"It'll be prettier at the park where there's tons of trees. Let's go, it's not that far. Namjoon pulls him by his elbow.

"It's been a while since it was only us two walking together..was the last time when we went up that mountian for losing that game?" Taehyung asks, looking around at all the different trees with amazement.

Namjoon laughs, watching his head turn every which way as they walk. "You look like a bird moving like that. It's like you never saw autumn leaves before."

"Sorry.. I'm just excited..I didn't get a good look in the car because of the tinted windows and us being rushed inside." Taehyung gives Namjoon a shy smile, earning himself a head pat from Namjoon.

"You don't have to be sorry. I just thought it was cute." Namjoon smiles. "Let's cross here."

The park was only a 15-minute walk from the hotel, the two ex roommates exchanging old memories with each other along the way.

"Look, hyung! A swing set!" Taehyung runs up to it, taking a seat on the swing."It reminds me of Hakdong park! Careful Namjoon, there are puddles under the swing."

"This one has an extra swing, but other than that, the setup is really similar." Namjoon takes the swing next to him, pulling it back to get on it without getting his feet wet. "If we have time, we should bring the others here before our flight home."

"Before we shoot run BTS?" Taehyung suggests, swinging lightly. "Ah, do you know what our challenge will be?"

"Nope. I have no idea. The only hint I got was that it's themed." Namjoon shrugs.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Taehyung tilts his head.

"Probably something like a haunted house?" Namjoon leaned back on the swing to look up at the sky. "Wow, the moon's beautiful tonight."

Taehyung mimicks Namjoon, holding tightly on the chains as he lets himself fall back, looking up at the full moon with clouds swirling around it. "Woah. I wish I had brought my camera.. my phone can't capture it." He sat up quickly when he heard a loud bang, trying to see if it was a firework or gunshot.

"What was-" Namjoon tried to quickly sit up, falling out of the seat into the water below. "Ahpa..ahpa.." he rubbed the back of his head, Taehyung rushing to him.

"Are you okay Namjoon-ah?" Taehyung brushes the wet woodchips from his back.

"Yeah, I'm fine..just wet.." Namjoon gives Taehyung a reassuring smile through the pain. "That just startled me.."

"Me too.." Taehyung helps Namjoon, getting him to his feet. "You're soaked now Hyung.. I think we should get back to the hotel."

"Yeah, but I think we should go a different way.. I don't want to go towards that sound.." Namjoon says, feeling uneasy. He takes Taehyungs hand, walking the opposite direction of the hotel.

"Don't worry, Hyung. It was probably just a firework.. there's a holiday coming up, right?" Taehyung squeezes his hand.

Namjoon gives him a half smile. He knew Halloween wasn't known for fireworks, but he didn't want to tell Taehyung that if that's really what he believed. "Yeah,you're right. But it's better to be safe than sorry."

Taehyung trusted Namjoon's judgment, but that didn't stop him from worrying about him. "Namjoon-ah, your teeth are chattering.." Taehyung takes off his trench coat, draping over Namjoon’s shoulders.

"Taehyungie no. You need your jacket." Namjoon tried to give it back, but the younger runs ahead. "Taehyung-ah!" He tried quietly, yelling to get attention.

"No, I'll be fine. I don't want to see you suffering, Hyung. If I stay moving, I'll stay warm." Taehyung tells him, refusing to touch his coat. "It's only a short walk back. I can handle cold."

"Fine..just don't run ahead.. I don't want you getting lost." Namjoon catches up to him, grabbing him by the wrist. "Stay next to me."

"Namjoon-ah, Namjoonie-hyung..we need to meet with the others soon." Taehyung's voice came out as a raspy whisper, gently rubbing Namjoon’s chest. "Do you want me to tell them you aren't feeling well?"

Namjoon coughs, eyes fluttering open."Taehyung-Ah? Mm..no..I'll be okay...what time is it...?" My throat.. it hurts to talk..

"It's 10:15. We're supposed to meet up at 10:30.." Taehyung replies, clearing his throat.

"Sh*t.. okay..okay I'm getting up.." Namjoon sits up, coughing into his fist. "Could you get me some water?"

Taehyung nods, getting up to fill a cup with water, leaning against the sink as a wave of dizziness washes over him. He woke up twenty minutes before Namjoon to the sound of the older member coughing, feeling congested, his head pounding painfully against his sinuses.

"Taehyung, are you feeling okay?" Namjoon asks, stifling another cough when he sees him doubled over the sink.

"I'll be okay. My nose is just a bit stuffy because it's cold out. No big deal. You should quickly take your shower. The steam should help you feel better." Taehyung returns with a cup of water, giving it to him. The shower helped me a bit..

"Take it easy today, okay?" Namjoon warns him. I shouldn't have invited him out last night. He was fine yesterday.

"Okay Hyung. I will." Taehyung sniffles, laying back down on his bed. "I'll just rest a bit while you get ready."

Namjoon left to shower, quickly texting a staff member.

Could you bring some cough medicine when you pick us up? I'm not feeling well.. My throat hurts, and I have a bad headache.

Namjoon sets his phone down. He turns up the water to be as hot as he could handle, using the steam to try to clear the mucus that kept draining into his throat.

The hot water made him feel dizzy, holding the wall tightly. Am I running a fever? The thought crossed his mind, but he quickly shook his head. No. No, the water is just too hot. I'm fine..

Namjoon quickly turned off the water, laying in the tub, hands over his face. "I just need some water.." When he tried to get to his feet, his vision went hazy, falling back into the tub with a loud bang.

"Namjoon-ah! Hyung are you okay?" Taehyung rushes into the bathroom when he hears it.

"Yeah, yeah I just slipped. Clumsy me, this is embarrassing.." Namjoon gives him an awkward smile, taking Taehyung's out stretched hand.

"Don't worry Hyung. I won't tell any..one." Taehyung coughs out the last word, pressing his lips together.

"I guess we both aren't doing well.." Namjoon sighs. "I'm sorry. That night walk was a bad idea."

"Don't be sorry. I liked spending time with you.." Taehyung smiles, hearing someone knock on the door. "Get dressed. I'll handle it." He goes to the door, peeking through the peep hole. "Ah, Jungkook-ah. Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I slept great. How about you? You look tired." Jungkook says with a frown.

"Ah, Namjoonie-hyung kept me up...with his snoring." Taehyung quickly added.

"Oh right. He does snore really loud. I'm glad I didn't lose." Jungkook teases. "I'd offer you a sip of my coffee, but you'd hate it. I got you some cocoa though. Where's Rapmonnie-hyung? I brought him some coffee."

"Hes getting dressed. Thanks Jungukkie." Taehyung gratefully takes the hot beverage from the cup holder, sipping on it to soothe his throat.

Namjoon's coughing was heard from the bathroom, making Jungkook rush in to check on him. "Namjoonie hyung are you okay?"

"Yeah..yeah.. I'm fine. I just..choked on the tooth..paste.." Namjoon coughs in-between words

"Be careful hyungie.." Jungkook hands him the coffee. "Here, take a drink."

Namjoon takes a big swallow, sighing when the coughing stops. "Alright, I just need my shoes and I'm ready."

Namjoon leaned against the car window while they drove to the location of the shoot, trying to hold back another cough. He knew he couldn't hide it from the others for long, but as soon as he went to the car, the older members were onto him.

He was going to wait until they reached the location to take the medicine, but Yoongi was already fretting over him.

"Namjoon-ah are you coming down with a cold?" Yoongi was straight to the point, eyes darkened with concern.

"Yeah, but its just a sore throat.." Namjoon knew he couldn't brush off Yoongi like he did Jungkook.

"Namjoon-ah, if you aren't feeling well, maybe you should sit it out." Jin suggests lightly, already knowing the answer he'll give.

"No, no, I'll be fine after i take some medicine. It's just a cough. It's nothing serious." Namjoon tried to downplay how bad he felt. Talking at a normal level felt like he was screaming.

Taehyung stayed quiet, letting his nose drip down, licking his lips when the watery snot hit them. He didn't dare sniffle, not wanting to draw attention to himself, pretending to be engrossed in the comic he was reading on his phone.

"You sound like you sang two concerts back to back on your own.. you'll worry, army." Jimin tries to talk him out of it. "You should really rest."

Namjoon shakes his head, coughing into his elbow. "They'll worry either way. We can edit out of I cough too badly. It'll be fine. They said it'll only take two hours tops."

"Alright..fine..but you stop when I say so." Jin says with a serious tone, using his role as the oldest. "I don't want you completely losing your voice over one episode. We have a concert next week."

"I promise." Namjoon says, sipping some water. "I'll try to keep the talking to a minimum.."

"Woah! It's a real pumpkin patch! Like in those movies!" Jungkook excitedly looked at the vast field of orange pumpkins of all sorts of different shapes and sizes.

"What are we doing here?" J-Hope asks.

"Each of you will choose a pumpkin from the patch to carve, then we'll continue inside." Staff tells them.

"I've never carved a pumpkin before.." Jimin admits. "Is a bigger one easies or a smaller one?"

"I haven't either, but I think a bigger one would be easier to carve because it's a bigger surface, but it's more to clear out." Yoongi smiles when he sees J-hope make a face at the idea of gutting the pumpkin.

Namjoon moves out of the camera shot, coughing into his arm. The cold autumn air made it harder not to cough.

"We need to choose quickly..Namjoonie needs to get inside as soon as possible.." J-hope clenched his jaw, his chest tightening to hear his friend cough.

"HEH'HEHTICHI!" Taehyung sneezes, covering his face. "Ah, sorry, Hyung." He apologized when he saw Hobi jump,trying to sound causal.

"Bless you, Tae. You're not catching a cold, too, are you?" Jimin rubs the back of Taehyung’s neck. "You feel warm."

"Your hands are just cold from being outside." Taehyung smiles. "Let's go pick a pumpkin." He tried to keep his energy high, pulling Jimin through the patch.

"Be careful where you step. There's vines. Don't trip!" Jin warns them a little too late, watching Taehyung fall Jimin being pulled down with him, both boys stumbling over.

"I lost my shoe.." Taehyung pouts.

"Taehyungie what have I told you to wear your shoes properly!" Jimin yells at him.

Taehyung laughs, but it turns into a cough, trying to muffle it with his scarf. "Don't make me laugh.."

"You are sick.." Jimin frowns, quickly getting Taehyung's shoe, putting it properly on his foot.

"It's not as bad as Namjoonie. I just didn't want to worry you guys. I'm fine. Really, it's just my sinuses.." Taehyung reassures Jimin, sniffling.

"It doesn't matter if Namjoon is worse or not. You don't need to act like you're fine. Did you take any medicine?"

"Namjoon-ah gave me some. I'm handling it."Taehyung promises, stifling another cough. "Oh! Look at this one! It reminds me of Tata!" He picks up an oddly shaped pumpkin."No, wait.. It's a butt.. you can have that one.."

Jimin rolls his eyes, knowing what his soulmate is doing. Taehyung is trying his best to act playful so the others didn't worry. "I don't want that one. What about the one next to it?" Jimin picks up a medium-sized pumpkin, wanting to get Taehyung inside as quickly as possible."It's perfect."

"I'll give it to Namjoonie hyung." Taehyung gets to his feet, holding his hand out to Jimin. "Come on, let's go show him."

Jimin reluctantly takes it, letting Taehyung pull him to his feet. "Looks like Jungkook beat you to it. You'll have to keep my gifted pumpkin."

Taehyung looks over to Jungkook, holding two pumpkins, then to Namjoon. "I'll see if I can get Namjoon-ah to go inside with me then."

"Good idea." Taehyung carries his pumpkin to Namjoon. "Hyung, I'm cold.. Since we got our pumpkins, can we go in?"

Namjoon was relieved to have an excuse to go in without having to admit the cold air made his coughing worse. "Feeling shy to go in alone? Alright. I'll go."He takes Taehyung's hand, leading him inside, where some staff are waiting.

"Ah, Namjoon-sii, Taehyung-sii. Is everything okay?" A staff member approached them. "Do you need anything?"

"No, everything is fine. It's just cold out, I didn't want to risk getting worse. Is that..." Namjoon tried to keep his coughing under control, but the last sentence got cut off by a bout of coughing.

The woman takes the pumpkin from him, placing it on the table, and quickly digs a few cough drops out of her purse. "Here, this should help.. I don't have many. I'm sorry."

Namjoon goes to thank her, but when he tries to talk, the coughing starts up again. He fumbles with the wrapper, Taehyung taking it from him to help open it.

"Here, hyung. Open." Taehyung pops the cough drop into his brothers mouth, his voice coming out softly.

Namjoon sucks on the lozenge, feeling relief as the mentol drop coats his dry throat. "Thank you.." he bows to the staff member and turns to Taehyung, offering him one."Here, you take one too."

"There's only three.. you should keep them.. I'm not coughing much, I'll be fine." Taehyung closes Namjoon's hand. "I hear the others.."

"Jungkookie be careful, you elbowed me.. why did you have to choose the biggest pumpkin?" Jimins voice is heard in a pout.

Taehyung runs up to greet them, knowing Namjoon wouldn't force him if they were with the others. "Oh wow.. it almost takes up your whole chest."

"It's not that big..sorry, Jiminshii, it was slipping." Jungkook apologizes, quickly going to the table to set it down. Jimin puts his down next to his, Jungkook giggling. "It's tiny like you."

"You punk." Jimin pushes him. "I'm not tiny."

"You're the smallest."Jungkook taunts running as Jimin chases him, hiding behind Jin.

"I'm not a shield. Stop playing around." Jin scolds both of them. He usually didn't mind the younger boys messing around, but he wanted to get through filming as soon as possible. Even with Taehyung smiling watching his two friends play, Jin could hear his labored breathing from his stuffed nose.

"Okay, Hyung. Sorry." Jungkook bows to Jimin.

"Oh, there's a guest here.." Yoongi points out the unfamiliar face. Everyone looks around to see who he meant, a blonde haired man catching their attention.

"H-Hello everyone!" The man stammered nervously. "I'm Zach. I'm the owner of this pumpkin patch, well.. my father is.. I'm going to help you carve your pumpkins."

"1,2,3.." Namjoon counts for their introduction, but coughs before he could get more than the first part of his name.

"His name is Namjoon." Jin answers for him, going down the line for each member. "Thank you for teaching us.."

The others echoed their thanks, except Taehyung, who only mouths the words. He tried to focus on the lesson, watching Zach cut into the top of the pumpkin, but his nose kept leaking, making him have to constantly sniffle.

"Here Hyung.." Jungkook passes him a napkin discretely, whispering by his ear. "Your nose is leaking."

"Ah, thanks, Jk.." Taehyung whispers, trying to quietly blow his nose. Thankfully, the cameras were focused on Yoongi and Namjoon bickering.

Namjoon stabbed the knife into the pumpkin, trying to saw it open, lacking the strength to actually do it. He only got a few zig zags before he couldn't get deep enough, the knife slipping.

"Namjoon-ah stop. Let me do it. I don't want you to cut yourself." Yoongi takes over.

"I can do it myself." Namjoon argues, but does nothing to stop him from taking it from him. "What about your own?"

"Jimin can do it,he's almost done with his already. Right Jiminie?" Yoongi asks Jimin.

"Ah, of course. No problem." Jimin smiles. He knew helping Yoongi meant giving the deagu rapper the chance to help Namjoon. He peeks over to Taehyung to see if he is doing any better. He's struggling too..

Taehyung had to use both hands to have enough pressure to cut through, wiping his nose on his shoulder. Why is this so hard...? It's hard to breathe when I don't concentrate on breathing..

"You aren't doing it right. Let hyung do it." Jin abandoned his project to help Taehyung. He couldn't stand seeing the young member suffering.

"I'm sorry hyung.. I'm trying my best." Taehyung coughs, a twinge of guilt filling his belly. When he looks at Jin's unfinished project. "I can do it.."

"I know you can, but i dont want you to get hurt. It's fine. I'll get you do the fun part okay? You and Namjoon were never good in the kitchen." Jin kisses his forehead. He feels warm...

"Augh! Even with gloves, it's gross!" J-hope whines, pulling out the inside of the pumpkin placing the guts aside.

"Let me help Hyung.. you can help Jinnie-hyung finish opening the top." Taehyung offers, rising to his feet to go by J-hope."It isn't that hard.. Right?"

"Well, no..but I can do it. It's not too different from making kimchi, just more..clumpy..It's fine." J-hops felt his heart twinge when Taehyung shook his head and gave him a smile taking his pumpkin anyway. Jin wanted him to rest, and he ruined it.

"I got it." Taehyung puts on the gloves, finding it much easier to just stand and remove the insides.

Jin reached over to pat J-hopes back, mouthing 'it's okay'. J-hope gives the tiniest nods, watching the young vocalist with concern. His hands were shaky, but he looked determined, a serious look across his flushed cheeks.

J-hope turned his head quickly when he heard Namjoon's coughing. He tried to muffle it with the scarf he was wearing,but it made no difference.

Namjoon felt awful.. the more he moved, the worse he felt. The sound of the members talking amongst themselves made his head pound, making him want to give up, but he was already halfway through and refused to give up.

"Namjoon-ah you okay?" Yoongi asks, unable to touch him with the dirty gloves. "Do you need a break?"

"No.. no, I'm fine.. I just need some water.." Namjoon says hoarsely.

Jungkook jumps up to get him some, removing his gloves and rushing to the cooler staff brought in the room, rushing to Namjoon’s side. "Here hyung.." he tips the bottle by his lips.

Namjoon drinks slowly, feeling some energy flowing back inside him. "Thanks Jk.. I'm fine now.."

"No..you and Taehyungie are done." Yoongi uses a stern tone.

"But hyung-" Taehyung goes to argue, but Jin stops him.

"I agree. At least for now.. We'll prep the pumpkins, and then you can come back." Jin says, gently nudging him to his feet. "Go properly blow your nose, at least.."

"Okay.." Taehyung says softly.

"Come on Tae-yah.." Namjoon knew there was no arguing against it.. not when the two oldest both told them to rest. He led the younger to the bathroom, going to the sink to splash water in his face.

Taehyung went into the bathroom stall, getting some toliet paper to try to clear his nose, sitting cross legged on the floor. The tough tissue irritated his nose further. It felt like there was no end, and the more mucus he got out, the more his sinuses throbbed, making his eyes water.

The sound of Namjoon's coughing got Taehyung back to his feet, rushing over to him. "Hyung are you okay?"

Namjoon tried to talk, but all that came out were wheezing coughs. I can't breathe..it hurts..

Taehyung pulls Namjoon close, gasping when he feels the heat radiating off of him. When did he get so bad? "You're burning up. Hang on, let me get you help.."

Namjoon holds onto Taehyung with a soft whimper. "Do..Don't.." His voice came out as a wheezing cough. He didn't want to be left alone, not when his lungs burned and his head felt light with the lack of oxygen.

Taehyung quickly texted the group chat, his hands shaking, keeping his message as quick as possible.

Nam not brthing..

Taehyung puts his phone down. "They'll come help.. it's okay.. you'll be f.." His comforting words lost their impact when a bout of coughing rattles his chest, making it hard to breathe. No, no.. I need to be strong for Namjoonie-hyung..please..

He tried to hold his breath to keep his coughing under control, hugging Namjoon tightly to him, feeling Namjoon's cough on his neck.

I don't know what to do.. I need to wait for someone to check their phone..

Taehyung runs his hand through Namjoon's hair, feeling dizzy from cutting off his own air supply. His heart pounded painfully like a jack hammer in his chest,but he didn't want to worry Namjoon. Not when he was already suffering.

"It..it's okay..you..don't..have to..pretend for me.." Namjoon coughs out the words, pressing into Taehyung’s abdomen to force him to let go of the breath he was holding.

Taehyung coughed, gasping for air. "Ah, hyung th..at hu..rt.." he felt the tension ease when Namjoon spoke, his shred of hope snatched away when the coughing turned to gagging. "Namjoon..come on.. we need to move..to..the toliet." He practically dragged the rapper into the stall, lifting the seat.

Namjoon coughed up the coffee, groaning when the acidic tang rose up his throat and into the bowl. Taehyung kept his arms wrapped around Namjoon's waist to hold him up.

"Hyungie..it's okay I got you.." Tae whispers, feeling him trembling with effort to hold himself up, Namjoons hands tightly around the toliet bowl. He buried his face in Namjoon's shoulder, coughing into it.

"Namjoon-ah! Taehyung-ah!" Yoongi tuns in the bathroom, hearing the two members suffering. He goes into the stall, gently removing Tae from Namjoon to take over. "Go to Jinnie-hyung. I'll take care of him, okay?

"Vuu.. Vuu come to hyungie." Jin calls to Taehyung with open arms, Taehyung stumbling into him.

"I..I couldn't help.. he just kept getting worse." Taehyung squeezes Jin tightly, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes.

"Shh.. it's okay.. it's okay you did all you could.. you stayed with him and that's all any of us can do. You did so good Voo. You stayed with him even if you weren't well yourself. I'm proud." Jin reassures the younger, stroking his hair. "Baby you're hot.. come on, let's find you a place to lay down."

"No.. no I want to.." Taehyung coughs,making half the sentence cut off.

"Yoongi has joon-ah under control.. it's okay.." Jin gives Taehyung no choice, picking him up. He wanted to get him away from the sound of Namjoon's retching and the sound of Namjoons sick spraying into the bowl.

"It's okay, it's okay. Don't try to fight it.. just let it run its course, and you'll feel better after.. I know it hurts.." Yoongi gently scratches Namjoon's back, taking deep breaths to keep himself from panicking. He couldn't let his anxiety take over, not when two members needed him to stay strong. "Deep breaths, Namjoon.."

Namjoon nods, trying to fill his lungs. "Yoongi it hurts to breathe.." he whimpers softly.

"I know baby, I know.. it'll be over soon.. just hang in there for me okay?" Yoongi rubs Namjoon’s stomach, feeling it churning underneath his hand, his muscles tightening as he starts to Vomit again.

Namjoon groans as he spits up foam, having nothing left in his stomach. He gagged again,another string of foamy spit comes. He had nothing left, collapsing against Yoongi's chest. "I..I think I'm done.." he coughs out the words.

"Good..good.. let's get you and Tae home.." Yoongi gently strokes Namjoon's hair. "We can finish the episode another time.. you two are more important.."

#bts sickfic #bts boys #bts fanfic #bts sickie #bts taehyung #bts namjoon #bts jhope #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts #sick!fic #sick!namjoon #sick!taehyung

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