#leading us back & I think my dad was trying to sever it or fix it from the afterlife? I’ve had a lot of dreams about him & the house

[otteranha]

 part 1 Part 3 of the snowed in blackout at Steve’s house fic*

*did I skip part 2 because this section was finished and wouldn’t get out of my brain? yes, yes I did. apologies for any confusion, part 2 will be out sometime. 

It was nearly 6 o’clock and the chaos had dulled to a simmer. Eddie had to admit that it was a lot of hosting to take on for a lot of long, dark, empty hours if Harrington had been letting the kids stay over since the storm. No wonder the guy looked shell shocked. Once the question of the television was officially out, Eddie got the kids circled up, passing around a flashlight as they told each other ghost stories. Peace reigning upon earth, Eddie peeled himself off the floor and left the group to their pseudo-campfire tales, and snuck back into the kitchen.

The overhead lights were still on there and in the hallway, everything else dark. Steve was arranging fix-in’s for s’mores on several plates. It was the first time Eddie’d seen him alone all day. Steve looked up, “Hey thanks for your help this afternoon. I think I might actually have lost my mind there if I had to face that lot alone.” Eddie hadn’t expected that. “Oh, no problem. You’re the one doing us a favor really.” “Yeah but you fully made yourself the bad guy back there, with the TV. That- that was a big help.”

“Well, you can’t play good-cop bad-cop all by yourself. They always gang up on you like that?” “Nah,” said Steve, “Usually they’re pretty great. I want to say sweet but that’s giving them too much credit, usually they’re...” “Salty? Savory? Umami?”

Steve laughed. “Sure, let’s go with that. Besides they’re lightyears better people than I was at their age so. I try to cut them some slack.” He trailed off, then exclaimed, “Oh you never got your shower did you?” Eddie, in fact, had not. 

“You can go now, if you don’t mind showering by lantern. The water heater’s still getting power.”

“Right now I’d shower by bioluminescent fish if the water was hot.” 

Steve laughed again- strangely gratifying. “Let me get this out to them and I’ll grab you a towel.” He disappeared with the snacks. When he returned he lead Eddie not towards his dad’s gym where everyone had been showering all day, but upstairs.

“Luring me into the bowels of Castle Harrington? I’m not going to end up bricked into a wall, am I?” Eddie asked. The hallway was long, deeply carpeted and spookily pristine.

“It’s a mess in there. I swear, not one person cleaned the drain. I should make a sign.” He lead Eddie into a bedroom with an ensuite bathroom tiled all over in what was either pale grey or lavender, impossible to tell by flashlight.

“Your parents don’t mind you letting the rabble invade their room?”

“Oh, this is a spare room.”

Eddie felt himself blush, of course it was a spare room idiot. Because people like the Harrington’s had to spend their money on things like rooms nobody slept in 90% of the time. He bounced around, distracting from his mistake, coming to rest in front of a display of photographs on a presumably empty dresser. 

“Must be handy for all those Harrington family get togethers, huh?”

“d’Agostino get togethers actually. My mom’s family. Dad’s an only child.”

“That explains a lot.”

“You’re an only child, aren’t you?” Steve said, but he didn’t sound mad, just matter of fact. 

Eddie had to admit his point.”Touchè, your Majesty.”

“They were going to have more kids I guess,” Steve went on, “But mom says she ruined her figure enough just having me.” His tone was light but in the weird flickering light from the flashlights, everything seemed to have a kind of gravity.

“You have a lot of cousins,” said Eddie looking over the photographs- dozens of people with symmetrical faces, standing in symmetrically arranged poses in rows symmetrically arranged frames.

“Yeah. We haven’t seen them in years. Mom stopped talking to her family after my grandpa died. It was tough on her and- ” he cut himself off abruptly.

“And what?” “Nothing.” “Tell me.” “Rich people problems. You don’t want to hear about it.”

“Sure I do,” and to his surprise Eddie did. “Lay that Park Avenue drama on me Harrington.”

“My mom’s got three brothers, she’s the only girl. It’s just that my grandpa was really old school, traditional, you know? He divided everything equally among his kids in his will, but instead of leaving my mom’s share to her he... he put it in a trust. For me, when I turn 21. I don’t know all the details, I was only 10 when he died but I remember she was going to leave my dad. She had an apartment and a lawyer and everything.” He drummed his fingers nervously over the dresser and went on. 

"Then her dad died and she was gonna use the money he left her to get away and start over. Only she didn’t get any of it. And her brothers wouldn’t help her out, because they thought she was asking for more than her share. I think she was kind of mad at me too, because grandpa left me the money instead of her. I tried to give it to her once when I was a kid but she just got upset and told me not to mention it again. Anyway she stopped talking to her family after that so. Not many family get togethers.”

“That’s not fair though. It wasn’t your fault, you were just a kid.”

“I know, I think she just couldn’t help being a little mad about it. She’s a good mom though.” Steve raised his chin, defensive. The beam of the flashlight lay across the long column of his neck. “Oh yeah?”

"She could still have left my dad, but he would’ve kept me. His lawyers are really good. And she wasn’t going to leave me with him.”

“I get it,” said Eddie because suddenly, weirdly he did. He had something in common with Steve Harrington. Upstairs in the dark house, it felt like they were the only two people who existed, not in Steve’s parents’ guest room, but some weird pocket realm, through a wardrobe, or a looking glass.

“Do you?”

“I really do Steve.” Eddie cleared his throat, “My mom tried to leave my dad a bunch of times. Sometimes she had to leave in the middle of the night without even a bag but she always took me with her.”

“Oh.” Steve looked at him, this common ground seemingly just as surprising to him as it was to Eddie. “Is she- where is she now? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Drunk driver.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah me too.” They stared a bit, not directly, but pretty steadily at each other’s shoes. Then Steve shook himself, tossing Eddie the towel.

“I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks again for helping with the kids. I really hate it when they get so- when I have to disappoint them like that.”

“Any time you need someone to play the big bad, just whistle. Especially if I can claim all the amenities of chez Harrington, seriously this towel is like a cloud had a baby with a lamb.”

“Aren’t lambs already babies?”

Eddie snorted. “Semantics. Now shoo.” Steve shooed. 

[allgather]

favorite sections of this post that i feel really capture the core of jonouchi as a person. i'm obsessed with these words.

jounouchi is very stuck on this idea that he needs to be useful. his dad is an alcoholic with a gambling addiction and he believes it's not only his duty to pay his father's debts, but to be the household's sole source of income. his sister needs eye surgery and he believes it's his responsibility as an older brother not only to pay for it, but to act as her primary emotional support to get the surgery and throughout her recovery process.... it's habitual, jounouchi doesn't know how to stop taking on the burdens of other people. if you live with the mentality that you’re inevitably going to fail for long enough, you’ll come away with the belief that caring about your own wellbeing isn’t worth the effort. it depends on how pessimistic you want to read it, if it’s just his love language or jounouchi compensating for the damning act of being himself, but jounouchi quantifies his worth by how much he provides for other people. he’s always jumping in the line of fire for the sake of others because if you constantly undervalue your own wellbeing, you always have less to lose. as the underdog, he may not be as overtly powerful as kaiba or yugi, but he can still give himself away, and he’s convinced himself that it’s what he’s supposed to do. a key distinction between jounouchi and kaiba’s upbringings is that while kaiba’s biological parents died in an accident, jounouchi’s parents are still alive and they choose not to be responsible for him. jounouchi is conditioned to fend for himself by himself because having a parental figure actually present in his life isn’t a luxury he gets to have. to jounouchi, there has to be a reason why his mother only takes shizuka and never goes back for him in the six years he’s left with his father, and he rationalizes this... jounouchi is not delicate, he can endure it.... jounouchi is hyperindependent because he believes he deserves it. it’s the reason why he believes he’ll finally have a good relationship with his father if he just wins enough money to pay off his gambling debts—jounouchi can fix everything if only he were man enough to, and he can get people to stay if he demonstrates himself useful enough. so death doesn’t carry nearly as much weight to jounouchi as it does to kaiba. in kaiba’s eyes, death is the punishment for failure, but to jounouchi, death is just the natural consequence for the kind of life he leads. he can't stop himself from fighting for the people he loves until he’s spent everything and forced to stop (read: dies), so during the several times jounouchi is confronted with his own death, he meets it with a solemn acceptance. like, yeah, it sucks, but he doesn’t regret the actions he took to end up here—he’d do it all over again, frankly. it’s better to die than not give everything he can, and at least he was able to give his life in service to someone else. it’s not necessarily good to die, but it doesn’t matter as much if he does.

this post understands jou so well to his core - and i think these are a lot of the concepts i am trying to get across in my portrayal of him. reckless, but not without cause. his life is about utility - to die in service of those he loves, well, he sorta always thought he'd go out that way.

[artichokefunction]

[-And the robot can entertain my daughter. I'm curious to see how it does.]

[Hey- mom! This is a killing machine! What if it hurts me or, I dunno, breaks something?]

[Then it's distributor would owe me a lot of money. Again, this is a small test. I want to understand its performance.]

and with that, the lady of the house leaves, with the handler in tow. she's gonna be doing stuff he is good at- business negotiations -for the next hour at the very least, and you're stuck on babysitting duty. the kid no longer seems concerned about how dangerous you might be, which is nice, you suppose. she's on her phone.

you are still just standing here. uhh. you could just wander off, maybe. these halls are ridiculously spacious, this is some sort of small palace. or maybe a palace-sized palace. you are unfamiliar with the politics of palaces, but the owner is doing business with the handler, so this can't be entirely legal. then again, you're vaguely aware of the history of monarchies, so like who knows what the story is here. the thing that's important to you here is that the kid is tugging on your sleeve to get your attention.

[Hey. Can you teach me how to shoot? Dad has a firing range downstairs.]

there's a firing range here??? you want to see that, yes. you nod at her, and she leads you down several hallways that you only take vauge note of before you arrive at the basement firing range, as promised. it's alright, pretty small but that's not too surprising. the kid still wants to learn how to shoot a gun, so you rummage around until you find the equipment and then you do your best to show her how to use a pistol. it's not too complicated, you think. maybe it's been too long since you were around beginners [or kids] but this kid kinda sucks at this. oh wait how old is she even. you have no idea. small enough to be sorta puntable but old enough to give out at you in detail when you adjust her stance and grip for the nth time. she hits the target, and gets excited, and tries again without fixing her aim first, and she misses again. and she gets frustrated.

[This sucks. I'm bored. I'm going back to my room.]

yeah, you kinda feel the same way. the kid is trying to be sneaky but you do notice her slip the pistol into her pocket. you don't stop her, she has the safety on, and if she tries anything you'll be able to deal with it. it could be funny, who knows. the trip back through the building is unremarkable until suddenly it *isn't*, because of the gunshots coming from the halls on the way to the front door. ah. that is bad. you should keep this kid safe. she is hiding behind you. you turn to her, and tilt your head, and point down the hall ahead.

[Uhh, my room is just around this corner. The left one. I dunno if it's safe tho.]

you gesture for her to follow you, and then you peek around the corner to ascertain the number of threats. none yet. you move quickly and she follows you, and she isn't used to moving quietly. her steps are real loud. you reload your pistol as you go, and it's good that you do, because just as you get to the one door in the house that looks like a kid owns it [all stickers and shit instead of plain and clean] a bullet narrowly misses your head. fuck. you grab the kid[s arm] in one hand and the doorknob in the other and you swing her inside in one smooth motion. which would be cool if you weren't still being shot at. you fire at the first gunman and take him down but in the time you've taken to move the kid to safety the rest of the intruders got loaded and ready. you move to intercept, because the alternative would be moving away, down the hallway, which would leave the kid's room wide open. you launch yourself to go barreling into the nearest target, and he lands on his head, with a loud resonant crack. it takes you a second to recover, a second too long. no wait. a second for him to be wide open to getting shot from behind. by the kid. she has the right stance and everything. wow. there are still two gunmen standing. you shoot one in the wrist and the kid shoots the other in the shoulder. that mightve been a headshot that missed. still helpful. it's not hard for you to knock them out and end the conflict. you take a moment to breathe. then you give the kid a thumbs up. she looks shaken. she gives you a thumbs up back. you get a ping from the handler. it's a barebones set of directions to get to a specific room. you can do that. but first you go over to the kid, and you point at the floor of her room and wait for her to nod her head and tell you that she'll stay where it's safe, and you make sure her door is closed properly, and then you go.

its not hard to get to the place, you only encounter two gunmen on the way, and they weren't expecting you. you leave 'em lightly stunned, and walk away before they get back up. they could follow you but they don't, which seems weird. it's weirder when you get to the room. inside it's all plush and fancy and unlived in, like a painting, and the handler is sitting across from the lady of the house, and looking deeply frustrated. he might be about to cry, actually. the lady looks kinda the same as earlier, all smug and threatening in the non physical way.

[Impressive. It did what you promised, and it dealt with the unexpected threat with minimal danger to my daughter. It truly is a remarkable tool, I might be in the market to buy this from you. What would your initial price estimate be?]

the handler takes a deep shaky breath and says [no, listen, there's been a misunderstanding. my agent is not available for sale, it and me are available for hire, but you failed to inform us of the intensity of this assessment, so we will not be doing business in the near future.]

ah. that was a test. it was arranged it was fake it was. pointless. yyyou uh. you want to slam the lady's head into that shiny desk and you aren't allowed to do that. just before you leave you catch the lady smiling thinly and saying [No, I think you don't understand, I-] and the door slams louder then you meant it to as you go. you. you. you. you storm through the halls and you make a lot of noise and no one attacks you because the threat was always fake. this was a setup. this was fucking. fuck. you're in front of the kids room again. you open the door. she's sitting on the bed, staring at you. you sit in a soft chair thing and you grab your face and squeeze until it hurts.

[Was it Mom?]

you nod, stiffly.

[Yeah, she's like that.] there's a beat of silence, and then [Do you want to play a game? I got this a while ago, it's good.]

she gets up and puts a chip into a small gamingtype computermachine, and then she goes through some screens until it shows two guys squaring off on a big empty stage. she hands you a controller.

[Press buttons and see what they do. I'm gonna try to beat you in this fight, you do too.]

-

you and the lady have fallen into a tense, angry silence. better then that conversation. goddd fuck. you're getting out of here. you're finding the agent so you can get out of here. it hasn't gone anywhere new so it's not hard to find, so you can focus on regulating your breathing. she saw and she knows but you don't want to give her the satisfaction of crying here. you open the door and the room inside is all soft and messy, loads of pictures and posters on the walls and lots of pillows on the floor. and the agent and the kid are playing some fighting game. huh. you walk over and crouch down next to your agent, and you take a second to try and make your voice sound normal, and then you ask what they're doing.

[Gaming.] the kid replies, flatly. the agent makes a low, focused sound. it presses a bunch of buttons and does something and its avatar gets immediately, totally destroyed for it. it's a little bit funny.

[Your robot is good at this. I'm better tho.]

you laugh, once, and it sounds more tired then you meant it to.

[me and the robot have to get going now, sorry kid.]

[Nooooo, one more game one more game-] but the agent has already put down the controller and stood up. it gives the kid a single, small salute, and after a second the kid returns it. you lead the way out, so that you can pointedly ignore the lady of the house, and you do see the way she tries to follow you before giving up, in an attempt to save face. and it's a little bit funny. the agent moves from behind you to beside you, and without even waiting for the lady to be out of sight it asks you if it can pleaaase kill her.

[no, not today. and are you assuming she doesn't know sign?]

it gives you a very pointed look, which could mean either [there is no way] or [i do not care] and that makes you laugh properly. you take a deep breath once you're outside, and you cut through the pointlessly nice lawn on your way to the truck. once you're inside, you take a moment to lie your head against the steering wheel and breathe, and then you take another moment to play the cd with the best calmdown songs on it, and then you drive off.

[mephestopheles]

I have an example of "do it scared". A really good one.

I was terrified of the dentist. Legitimately, full panic attack, trembling, required Ativan to get through even a simple check up kind of scared. I "did it scared" and forced myself through a bunch of shit that didn't work and made the fear worse in my early twenties, and then this was compounded by my gallbladder fucking up and undoing all of the work I'd forced myself to go through.

Fast forward to 2012/2013, a very kind coworker friend gave me the name of the dentist her husband went to because he also had a crippling fear of the dentist. This dentist seemed to understand that and worked with folks to help.

See the first time I did it scared, I did not have a lot of support. Like I had my parents who understood to an extent, my dad I think more than my mom, and yeah they were in my corner. But they were also more worried about the complications that not taking care of my teeth would lead too. I was also going to an expensive and kind of shitty dentist. Who did not help or support, or even understand my fear. It was "use Ativan or we can try nitrous to knock you out".

When I went to the new dentist, my first appointment was x-rays, and a conversation. No cleaning, no fixing, just a conversation of what my mouth was like and how we could fix it and support my fear. He created a full plan that he said we could do in as little as a year or as long as I needed given my fear. He made sure to increase the freezing he used and he set up a plan to remove several teeth under anesthesia so I wouldn't have to be aware of that.

I did some of his plan, panicked then went back a year later and a new dentist had taken over his caseload. This dentist is the one I still have and he is legitimately amazing. I went from requiring meds to even get near the place to just making appts without even thinking about it.

It took a while. It took splitting appts up and doing things slowly and fixing what could be fixed. It also took him understanding that I was scared but wanted to get this done and knowing how to take some of the fear out of his side of the job, by explaining things, slowing down, and listening to me.

In 2018, I finally got my partial, and in 2022, I got my top two teeth crowned. By far the worst experience for dental stuff was the crowns because there was gum ablation and a lot of pain and a multi week appointment schedule to get it all done.

But I did it.

In the middle of all of this, I was able to start properly brushing my teeth again, and now go for cleanings twice a year and am cavity free. I'm 43, in my mid twenties my teeth were so bad I was routinely on antibiotics and was battling gingivitis, and still couldn't bring myself to go to the dentist. In my thirties I did the work, and I did it scared.

But each time I went back, the fear was less, the anxiety was better, until one day I went to a cleaning and mentioned a line on a tooth that looked bad but is just a small line from the composite that stains easily. I had it buffed out without freezing.

Doing it scared works. Take your time, rest after words. Validate your fear and your survival, and then celebrate it. It retrains your brain to focus on the win and not the fear.

You can do this.

“Do it scared” but please realize that, if you Do It Scared too much and don’t let yourself rest + relax + have fun in between, you will fuck yourself up. If you “do it scared” all day every day, you will burn out badly and quickly. Sometimes this is temporarily necessary but please keep this in mind.

[timeoverload]

I wasn't going to write anymore today. Every time I say that, something crazy happens. It was a very hectic afternoon. I can't do everything by myself and it's so hard. I had 34 cases today. They sure know how to welcome me back. There were several add-ons. I was lucky that the evening team lead agreed to finish up for me because I was worn out. It made me feel good that a lot of people were glad that I was back at work though. My boss and the director didn't seem very happy to see me today so I'm not sure what that was about. My boss never got back to me about Thursday so I still don't know if I have to work that day or not. She seemed annoyed when I asked her about it. I will have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

I got off work and noticed my dad had texted me to tell me that the air conditioner wasn't working. I'm not sure what's wrong with it. I wish I could help figure it out. I'm not good at fixing stuff. I'm glad it isn't too hot outside right now and I have my fan on so I can't really tell.

I called my grandma and talked to her for an hour. She seems to be doing ok. She finally got a walker but she isn't using it. She still can't drive and she needs help with stuff. I wish I could help her more. I'm glad that she understands that I am having a rough time and that I'm not trying to ignore her. I guess my aunt is talking to her again and they are getting along. I am happy about that. She told me my mom is back in Montana and she likes it there. I don't know if she will stay put or not.

I am starting to get nervous about Friday. I still don't know what I am going to wear. It's supposed to be cooler outside than I was expecting. I don't want to get cold and I'm not sure how long I will be outside. I don't think I will be wearing a dress. Unfortunately, I lost more weight last week when I was sick. The dresses I bought don't fit right even though I got the smallest size. It's frustrating. I would like to try to wear them sometime once I can gain some weight. I will try to find a nice top to wear or something. I just want to be comfortable until I start feeling better. I'm not sure when that will be, but I'm doing my best. I'm sure it doesn't matter how I look that much and the important thing is that I show up. I hope that I can make it down there without any issues and that my car will continue to cooperate with me. I really want everything to go well because I don't want to get stressed about anything anymore. I want to be happy now.

I have been feeling so fatigued all day so I know I'm not going to accomplish much else tonight. I didn't get that much done when I was off work either so I'm a little discouraged about that. I definitely don't need any more health problems right now. I am starting to get a headache so I'm trying to drink a lot of water because I don't think I had enough today.

I think that tomorrow should be a little easier than today was. It shouldn't be as busy for me. I think I only have 22 cases so that's not bad. I will be really happy if I get to stay home on Thursday. I am going to do my best to be in a good mood tomorrow even if I'm tired. It will be ok.

I hope everyone else has a great day tomorrow. Thanks for listening. :) 💖💖💖

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Healing Ties - Chapter 20 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Danya drew in a deep breath and let it out as a sigh.

"Hamish, could you find Simon for me? I think he was helping to fix some things today but I'm sure they won't mind if I steal him back early given the circumstances."

"Sure."

Hamish scooped Jasper up in his arms.

"Let's go find your dad. Can you sniff him out for me?"

Jasper squirmed out of Hamish's arms.

"I'm too big to be carried."

"Nah, you're not because I'm really strong. I can pick up even the biggest of kids."

"I'm stronger than you," Jasper insisted, then he dashed off on all fours.

"I don't think that's true..." Hamish said as he followed after him.

Danya watched them leave and then turned back to Fanner and smiled and shook his head.

"Come on. I'll show you where we live. You can stay with us until we can find somewhere more permanent for you."

"Oh. Thank you. I hope I won't be in the way."

Danya frowned at him.

"Fanner, I've been looking for you for almost a year now. You're not in the way."

Fanner didn't know what to say to that, how to process the concept that all this time when he had felt so alone and uncared for there had been someone out there trying to find him.

His own brother.

Was this what it felt like to have family?

Fanner followed Danya down a dirt path that led between the cabins.

They weren't of uniform shape or size or even particularly lined up neatly.

Some were painted in various colours and they all had their own decorative touches.

The cabin Danya led him up to had a low fence surrounding its garden beds covered in tiny, short fingered handprints in several different colours of paint.

Jasper's work, clearly.

Inside the cabin was a small room with a single door leading off of it.

It contained a table surrounded by four wooden chairs, some bedding on the floor, a chest and a cupboard.

There was a well worn plush dog sitting on the pile of bedding.

Danya guided Fanner to the bedding and they sat down together.

Fanner picked up the plush dog and clutched it in his lap.

"Where have you been, Fanner?" Danya asked again.

"I didn't bring you here right away because things were still a little chaotic. I didn't want to bring you into an unstable situation when you were still safe at Milaine House. Then about a year ago I finally decided it was time to bring you in. Maybe the situation won't stay safe and stable for long but Fanner, something is going to happen and I want you with us when it does."

"Something?"

"The humans don't want to follow us over the border to confront us properly but eventually they will. If we lose, perhaps we're driven further outside of human territory and won't be able to easily return. If we win... well, who knows but you might have felt the ripples of that even if you weren't involved."

"Oh."

"Wherever you were..." Danya said. "We broke into the offices, you know. We looked through your file. It just abruptly ended when you disappeared. No sale documents. Nothing about a transfer. Not even documentation of your death. They still had a file on me and there was a note about me dying in there. There should have been something. What happened?"

Fanner shrugged.

There was a small tear in the fabric of the dog and Fanner focussed on mending it with his magic so that he would have an excuse not to look at Danya.

"Mr Burrows found out about my powers and he wanted to test them but that sort of magic would be illegal so I suppose there was no official documentation of his experiments."

"Experiments? Fanner, what did he do to you?"

"He just hurt me because... um..."

Fanner found himself involuntarily swallowing as his throat closed up.

"Because I heal faster when I pull energy from things, I guess. Or just in general. But um.... Can you not tell anyone about that? I don't want anyone getting the same ideas..."

Danya looked absolutely heartbroken, so Fanner looked back down at the plush dog.

"Fanner, nobody's going to hurt you here. They have no right to. Okay?"

"Well, what does that mean?" Fanner asked. "Did Mr Burrows have the right to? Maybe because he owned me but all you really need to own someone is enough power over them. I imagine there are plenty of people here more powerful than me..."

Danya sighed.

"I understand why you would feel that way. We were never given rights. Of course telling you something is your 'right' doesn't feel like a guarantee. But, Fanner, what unites us here is a moral objection to slavery. Nobody here is going to make a slave of you and if they tried to they would be stopped. I would stop them personally if nobody else beat me to it."

"I... I suppose I sort of knew that but..." Fanner turned the plush dog in his hands, over and over. "I'm just not a fighter and I don't want to be but if there's a big battle coming and everyone knows the things I can do they'll want me to fight. Maybe they can't force me in the same sense you would force a slave but that doesn't mean it will be easy to say no."

"I can see your point. Things get more complicated in that sort of situation. Even if nobody pressures you, I can't guarantee you'll never be in a position where you have to choose to either fight or let something bad happen to yourself or others. If that happens, I hope you won't be too afraid of yourself to do what you need to."

Fanner nodded, his eyes firmly aimed at the plush dog.

"You won't be the only non-combatant, though. You've met my son. He's four. If anything happens, my top priority is getting him somewhere safe. There are many children here, many mages among us who have absolutely no combat abilities. There will be a group for you to go with. But... yes. I do hope that if I wasn't there, you would step up to protect Jasper if it ever came to it."

Fanner hesitated and then nodded.

Of course he would.

He had used his ability against Yore because he had thought it was necessary.

If he would do that to protect himself, he would do whatever he needed to in order to protect Jasper.

He just really hoped to avoid ever being in that situation.

"Of course I will."

[nexus-my-beloved]

I like to imagine that despite all the "we can never go back to that life" arguments, Sam would in fact friend request his old friends from Stanford. Unfortunately, there's a couple problems with this:

A) Most of these guys haven't heard from Sam since he and Jessica's shared space caught fire and Jess died when Sam left "to find himself". Some of them think he probably was the arsonist and some of them were concerned, but either way Sam was gone to the wind and some people probably forgot him.

B) Sam has been legally declared dead by the government like. more than three times. It's basically the shock of when a relative dies but someone messages you with their account and at first out of grief or confusion you answer but most of the time it turns out to be a scammer that hacked their Facebook. This time the guy is actually real, well and alive, and also looks more like a lumberjack than the geeky guy you remember and /what the fuck why has he got muscles what did he do while he was gone-/

C) Sam was wanted by the FBI more than twice I think along with his brother. The first time there was news of them being bank robbers in a hostage situation that DIPPED OUT OF THE PLACE IN TACTICAL GEAR THEY STOLE OFF FEDERAL AGENTS. The second time, "Sam and Dean" LIVE STREAMED THEM KILLING PEOPLE IN THEIR FAVORITE SPOTS IN DIFFERENT STATES. This obviously freaks out Sam's friends because they're thinking "is he wanted by the FBI again?? Is he asking me for shelter??" And this leads into my next point,

D) Besides checking the news to see if Sam is wanted for like, grand larceny or something again, his poor friends are probably thinking "AM I A TARGET NOW??" and are pissing themselves scared. They make a group chat of the infamous friends of Sam Winchester and all ask each other "so we all got the friend request right" and are left to deliberate but also talk about the fact that "He's got a photo posted of this old car. The Sam we know wouldn't drive that." "I saw his brother take off with him in that car after the fire, though." / "Did you guys see he's got all that muscle now??" "You're right he's actually attractive- we're getting distracted." / "What does he want with us??" "Maybe he actually does want to reconnect." (And despite the fact this is the truth—) "dude, he's been wanted by the FBI several times. Felons of that degree don't try to reconnect with friends from college."

DEAN:

Dean would be like one of those dads that go on Facebook and only look at things related to car shows or mechanics or something. He'd post pictures of Baby and be all proud of her and shit like that and he'd shit on people that were fixing their cars wrong. More than once this mother fucker will get pissed off enough at a guy on Facebook who is fucking up their car when they're doing "maintenance" and complain of issues with their muffler or something and Dean would threaten them for their address. Even if this guy lives across the country Dean will just yell at Sam and say he's doing something important, will drive across the US, get to the guy's house, and then spend the next three days fixing the car to perfection. Once he's done he is covered in oil and sweat and panting from heat because the guy lives in California or something, his check engine light doesn't work, his fuel tank had a hole in it, his car battery was faulty and his transmission wouldn't turn over properly. But Dean fixed it and he's proud and he posts a picture of him in just a gray T-shirt, sweat soaked through and oil on his face but he's standing in front of this car and then it's followed by a video of the car running and the motor just purring. He brags to everyone on Facebook that he fixed this car in three days and it'll run great for a while before anything needs to be fixed as long as this guy doesn't pour water in the gas tank or Gatorade in the oil tank or something.

CAS:

Cas would use Twitter, get upset that there's so many arguments, but eventually would figure out the algorithm to just retweet cat pictures/videos and biblical quotes, would enjoy poetry, and probably would tweet the most random shit without context.

What I mean is, Cas' entire Twitter has no clue who Sam or Dean are. But from what they can piece together, Dean is either a boyfriend or an ex husband or something in between but no matter what the relationship is confusing at best. They can't figure out if Sam is Dean's son, brother, or dad, and they're confused on if Sam is Cas' friend or not considering how Cas has called Sam an abomination at least twice on Twitter. Cas accidentally creates a space one day and people are interested to hear Cas' voice and what's going on with his life but it's just Cas talking passionately about something (who the fuck is Micheal. What's this about possession??! Who's dying!? Why is he talking about bees now wha-) the conversation goes downhill and they probably either hear Dean confess to Cas or the other way around but neither of them take it as a love confession even though it clearly is and they are once again confused on Cas and Dean's relationship. Another time when Cas accidentally makes a space Destiel ends up having sex and the space can hear it and, once again, after the space they still don't understand the relationship they have.

Cas would not have a profile picture because he'd have no idea how the fuck to change it. I also think Cas would act similar to Misha on Twitter but more consistently confused.

PERSONALLY, I THINK CAS WOULD USE TWITTER, DEAN WOULD USE FACEBOOK, SAM WOULD USE FACEBOOK AND INSTAGRAM

dean and sam being active on social media is so funny. we see very little of it. but i Know there’s humour in there somewhere. i think dean would share like. Everything. once he figured out how.

also does sam friend request his citizen friends he hasn’t spoken to in years…

no profile picture castiel is important to me

[nobodysdaydreams]

Mysterious Benedict Society Liveblog Season 2 Episode 2: A Bit of a Light Chop

And... we're back. Looks like no one has seen my liveblogs yet and my post still aren't appearing under tags, so for now I'll be blogging straight into the void.

Edit: wait hold up I think they might have fixed it in that case hello everyone!

0:57- Time for our fancy cruise! Yes Sticky, enjoy yourself. Nothing more despised then stowaways? I don't know about that. Oh it's Captain Noland! He was in the book. That I read. Several years ago... It's been awhile so at this point there's a lot I'm being reintroduced to. Oh my gosh I love Captain Noland. Anyone who monologues that dramatically is bound to be entertaining.

2:40- "always wanted to live through a mutiny" Constance girl, you'll be the one leading it.

3:25- so... that's not the tether ball team, it's a water pollo team. Is Martina on that team? Oh wait no it's those creepy women curse my face blindness but thank you to the camera man for zooming in on them dramatically.

4:30- ~STOWAWAYS~ I just- I love the drama of this. Oh my gosh I love Captain Noland. "I need them walking the plank" "That is no longer legal. Was it ever ethical" "metaphorically" - yes. This man has no idea who the stowaways are but is totally 100% drama ready. I love it. MAKE AN EXAMPLE OF THEM. Oh here we go!

6:30- OH HERE WE GO! (7:00) Oh my gosh his smile is so creepy. He's become so unhinged in such a short time. Poor SQ, now he's gone from having a distant cold angry dad to one who has purchased a first class ticket to crazy town.

7:30- why is he suddenly being nice to #2? Oh my gosh what silly manipulation is he trying now. That's right number 2. Don't take his stupid tea.

8:00- YES JILLSON and JACKSON! Not SQ or Martina, but I'll take it. PFT "we don't trust you" "well earn it- everyday day and everyway" oh Jackson never change. No why get the full picture, just run in any direction! Steal the golf cart! He's gonna hypnotize you into staying if you don't get out now.

9:30- oh I see. So Reynie is a bit clingy and Sticky is a bit distant.

9:40- YES CONSTANCE BACKSTORY. Not the polar bears and clowns RIP.

11:00- That's right, Rhonda, Milligan and Ms. Perumal, you deserve to fly in style.

11:30- Oh my gosh, Jackson looks like he's in tears, wait I treasure you? Hold up I always thought they were siblings, are they a couple? Are they ever gonna tell us?

12:00- Do the lemons ever mean anything? Oh my gosh this is the cultyest cult to ever cult. And seriously, "make each other"- is Jillson and Jackson's relationship just going on in the background? No number 2 don't eat the lemons! Skin and all too. What if they have some poison that affects the brain? Oh my gosh when life gives you lemons- is he gonna make them drink lemonade as part of his stupid pun game? Probably.

13:30- "are you talking about the bathroom" Number 2 is the best.

14:00- "their worry will soon lead to action" yes Mr. Benedict knows his kids.

16:00- Awkward. And yeah, I think them being ceiling fan haters was a long shot Reynie.

16:50- oh right no sugar because they dumped it out. oh my gosh Noland is being tortured by this situation. RUPTURED A SUPERTANK - What- Captain Noland is ready to drop his tragic backstory, finally someone who isn't gonna make me wait several seasons.

17:30- Perfect storm: some stowaways and no sugar. Oh my gosh Situation Alpha. This is phenomenal.

18:00- "no one thinks we're the stowaways" you're 4 kids unsupervised with only one change of clothes your the most stowaway-y stowaways to ever stowaway.

18:44- Oh great. The Sticky outgrowing his friends plot is growing, wait is he trying to impress his old friends. Honey, you are a genius you don't need to try this hard. NO KATE DON'T TALK TO THE SCARY WATER POLO LADIES. "That is why we play for a living" oh dear. Never mind, yes Kate get the info and call their bluff when you realize they are not legit.

21:00- He's been obsessed with being liked. Yeah no kidding. "Almost as sweet as your brother" oh shut up Sebastian. When did Curtain even have time to write a book? Was it the year in exile?

25:00- oh Milligan trauma dumping. No sadly it's not simple. Maybe Ms. Perumal can help him get his memory back.

26:00- Don't grab the fence, it will shock you. Trust me, I saw the trailer. And every other show with this plot. Also it's Curtain what else would he do.

26:33- CALL SQ BACK? CURTAIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THAT BOY? YOU BETTER NOT HURT HIM! Yes the Benedict busts in on Curtain scene we've all been waiting for. "Protecting the Vibe" Curtain's literally just messing with his brother at this point.

27:20- Yeah his movements and voice cadence are extremely unsettling. Sure call it neuroscience if you want, or deplorable, I call it being a punchable creep. Heartbroken? Oh poor benedict. He needs to run into SQ, they both need some love right now. Also, I wonder which brother is really jealous of who here? Benedict jealous of Curtain for having everything when he made unethical choices, or Curtain jealous of Benedict because he has a stable group of friends and family that love him without him needing to control them? Much to think about.

29:15- um hi Sebastian. You're looking creepy this evening. Nothing behind those eyes.

29:48- Oh good maybe Captain Noland and Cannonball can ham things up for us. NOT THE SILLY CARTOON PICTURE- I- I love these two. I don't know if this is what they were like in the books, but I might have to do a reread.

30:50- oh no not the fake water polo team. This poor newly wed couple is gonna come back to their room destroyed if those kids don't get under the bed quick. What that's it? We didn't even get to see if they entered the right room or not? Ugh this is frustrating, but ultimately good that I can't binge all at once because I would.

I love it. Wish that we got Garrison, Martina, and SQ back, but I love it. I need Garrison to get her revenge (unless she's been pulling the strings that whole time of course), and I need to know where SQ is right now. Curtain you monster, your son is a talent and will not be happy drawing yellow squares for the rest of his life.

[blissfulparker]

Wipeout⇔ Surfer!Dad!tom

Parings: surfer!dad!tom x surfer!reader

Summary; You and Tom spend your whole relationship in the water. Surfing under the summer sun and competing in summers biggest surf competition. To a surpise, you and Tom take on the biggest challenge nature could throw at you. A baby.

Wc: 9k

Warnings: mentions of insecurities durning pregnancy, fluff

A/n: I know this isn’t a birthday themed fic for Toms b-day but I hope you all enjoy! My little spin on a summer fic with dad!tom 🥰

June.

The summer breeze rose goosebumps to your skin. Your hands coming up to rub your arms as the water was only a bit colder today.

it was summer, the best part of the year when you lived with a beach in your backyard. Spending your whole life surfing you now prepared for the summer tournament that happened only weeks away from now. Surfers, fans, media come in from nearly all over the world just to compete.

To feel a wave under their boards and the adrenaline that rushes through your blood when you finally get on top. The same competition that lead you to Tom, Tom who was now your boyfriend of two years. At first, you laughed at the boy.

Pale, shy—yet so cocky and from London of all places. The most water they got is from the sky. You wanted to laugh with your friends for how confident he was acting, little rain boy wanted to have a chance in the big ocean and he did. To your shock, he scored better than you and scored to be in the top 10. Your laughs stopped after competition and maybe it was the slight momentary enemy thing or it was that deep blue bikini that made him find you after the games and get you out for a drink.

That drink was truly a shared basket of fish and chips as you talked more and more about each other. Pale, rainy London boy ended up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You wiped out twice!” He sits atop his board and your hands rub over your face.

“Maybe because I’m distracted!” You splash water in his direction. His toned abs always tanner during g this year and it was hard for the both of you to control yourself. “I’m just tired, stressed.” You shrugged it off truthfully.

“You fell asleep at 8:00 last night, grandma.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Competition stress.” You point to him and he shrugs. If he’s honest, within the two years he’s known you, two years he’s loved and wondered where you had been all his life, he knew your stress. When you were stressed you oftentimes took long showers or wrote in your journal for hours on end but this time your stress was sleeping early/in late and a few times he’s caught you throwing up. All under the name of stress.

He didn’t push anything though, reminding you that he is there and you could tell him anything. But nonetheless, he left you be and just kissed your cheek and told you everything was okay.

“Race you to shore and whoever gets back inside first gets the leftover chicken from last night!” He starts to swim and you quickly flatten yourself on your board.

“What are we like five?” You call out but still push yourself to go faster. Pushing yourself to race him to shore.

Even though Toms board was definitely double his size, he still beat you into the house, already washed off and reheating the leftovers for lunch. After a morning swim you always had lunch before you went off to work where you would teach little kids how to surf. No matter what, you were always around the water.

“So I was checking the competition list this week, checking to see if there’s anyone new…” he trails off on a story. The two of you share the chicken and fries before you suddenly get a disgusted taste in your mouth. The chicken suddenly becomes sour in your mouth but you force yourself to swallow, Tom notices the change and he stops everything to make sure you’re okay.

“Darling, what is it?” He has a worried look but you shake your head.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. I-I just think this part of my chicken was a bit undercooked and it grossed me out. It’s nothing.” You smiled at him and he waited a second before continuing his story.

But that wasn’t the end of it, the next bite even more sour and this time you drop your fork and open the trash can to spit it out. The spitting then followed by spitting up all of your breakfast and lunch. Tom quickly coming to move any stray hair and rubbing your back as he tried to not throw up himself.

When you were done, he quickly closed the trash can lid and got you into the bathroom where he assembled the toothbrush for you.

“Peaches, I know that you told me not to worry but this is the third time this week.” He folded his arms as he leans against the wall.

“I’m fine.” You say through a mouth filled with toothpaste. Spitting into the sink and rinsing your mouth while also splashing some water over your face. When you look back up, just a bit, your eyes flicker to the untouched box of tampons.

One week late wasn’t so bad, one week late was just some built up stress and every women had been a week or two late before. But before tom can take notice in your distraction, you turn around to him who hands you a towel.

“But you’re not fine.” He argues a bit gently, not wanting to offend you.

“Tom, in school I would throw up during exam seasons all the time. It’s just stress okay? Better than losing hair or breaking out I guess.” You try and joke with him but he doesn’t exactly laugh. Just stares at you worried and you push back a few of his curls.

“Hey, look at me,” you tell him and his eyes meet yours. “I’m fine, seriously! Just a bit of stress and nothing the ocean water and you can’t fix.” You kiss his cheek and he finally smiles.

“Can you go see a doctor? For yourself and if not for yourself then for me, I want you to do good at competition and you know they won’t let you compete if you are sick in anyway.” He rubs up and down your sides and you sigh. Hating the doctors but you agree.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment but they will just tell me I just have butterflies.” You tell him and that’s when he grows a smirk.

“Aw, babe, I didn’t know after all these years I still gave you butterflies!” He teased and you rolled your eyes playfully nudging your body against him. Both leaving the bathroom, your eyes flicker over to the untouched box to tampons that just taunt you one last time before tom shuts the bathroom door. It was possible, you just didn’t want it to be possible just yet.

-

“I should’ve canceled, I should be there!” Tom speaks through the phone. You sat in an empty, cold doctors office waiting for blood results to get back.

Despite Toms over worrying, everything was fine. They couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you and agreed when you mentioned how it was just anxiety and nerves. Yet they still had to run a blood test to make sure it wasn’t anything they missed and couldn’t see with the naked eye.

Meanwhile tom had to be the most dramatic person out there. You always told him if he was not a surfer he would be an actor. It was impressive how every single night before bed he had a new condition to diagnose you with. Some so severe and outrageous you had to remind him that this wasn’t 1600s England and that you didn’t have the plague. That things were just from stress and if it was a stomach bug then let it run through.

Yet he would rant to you nearly every single night about how he’s always loved you and hated that this was the way to go. Always with that you would smack him with a pillow and tell him to go to sleep and with that he would kiss your cheek and hold you tight as he fell asleep.

“Tom, it’s fine. Seriously! They said they couldn’t find anything wrong, you’d be wasting your time to come here. The most you’d get out of this visit is maybe a sticker. Does Tommy want his girlfriend to bring him back a sticker?” You used a baby voice and you could practically hear him going red.

With a scoff he replies, “Ugh, no. What am I like five?” He pauses for a moment. “But what kind do they have? Were you able to check?” He asked in more of a quiet voice and you laugh.

“No clue. But the nurse told me the best thing I could do is just drink some tea and rest. Maybe they have some spiderman stickers or Sofia the first stickers.” You fiddle with the loose thread on your pants. Ending with a joke to calm both yours and Tom's nerves.

With a smirk, Tom Says, “you’ve been drinking some British tea for awhile—“ he jokes and you quickly cut him off.

“Tom!” You say and as if it was a sign, the nurse comes back in with a clipboard and a gentle smile. “Hey, I’ll call you back, the nurse has my results.”

“Wait! Before you go, ask them to check for tapeworms—“ before he could finish you hung up.

“He’s just dramatic.” You laughed a bit and the nurse laughed along before taking a seat across from you. She clicks her pen which makes you nervous for some reason.

“So your blood came back fine, everything is okay. I just have a few little things such as are you on any birth control?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Oh no, um...haven’t been for a while. But my boyfriend and I use protection and we’re safe. We only used planB once and that was a year ago.” You tell her but she looks up at you. Nodding as she purses her lips.

“Condoms only go so far sweetheart. We just have to ask patients who we find to be with a child incase of any birth control so we can remove it immediately, the birth control, I mean, remove that immediately.” With child. You were with a child. Pregnant. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest and the nurse says a few more things but they don’t register.

“Y-You mean there’s a baby inside of me?” You don’t know what color you look right now but you would assume pale, or green with the feeling of vomiting and this time not from slightly uncooked raw leftover chicken.

“Yup, about one month along it looks! We still will want to run more tests and…” she talks more and more but you don’t listen. Your brain foggy, you don’t know if you’re going to pass out or throw up or shit everywhere from how nervous you were. Hell, even all three seemed like an option as she talked. “So I’ll leave you to tell the important news?” She asked. This was apart of her regular day to day, she probably had hundreds of girls like you come in. Clueless and thinking of a stomach bug and then finding out they are pregnant.

“Y-Yeah.” You try to form a smile.

“Perfect, just meet me up at the desk whenever you’re ready. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you are feeling queasy and of course, help yourself to as many waters in the mini fridge in our waiting room. Congratulations!” She says before she turns out and all you hear is the door click shut. The white noise of the light and the taps of your fingernails against the cool metal bed.

You know it was professional and sweet of her to allow you space to call your significant other but you only stare at Tom's contact. Staring at the word ‘Tommy’ with almost all the heart emojis and his contact pictures of him with the biggest smile.

You have no guts to tell him right in the moment, but rather get off of the paper coated bed and grab your things to leave. Setting up a new appointment with your doctor to see more into the baby. Pregnant, with child, before competition. You and Tom were going to have a faimily.

July.

Tom still hadn’t known the news. It had only been a week but the guilt still ate you alive.

You didn’t want to worry or stress him. You yourself still tried to wrap your brain around it. A baby, every breath you took, every bite of food you ate, every drink you swallowed and every step you took there was a baby you shared it with.

You think about how every time tom had wrapped his arms around your waist this week he gently touched over the baby. Kissing your lying lips, you hated yourself for it.

As for competition, your mind nearly forgot. Still getting in the waters everyday with Tom but this time a bit more cautious. Everytime Tom worried for you, you quickly would cover his worry up with either a joke or kisses.

As for the throwing up, morning sickness was something that came in and out. You started hating the smell of bacon tom cooked in the morning but just waved it off. He noticed your decline in caffeine and beers and wines but you just told him the best athletes only had what’s best for their body before performing.

Tom believed all of it. Every single white lie you told—even though you hated yourself for telling them— believed them.

“How ya feeling?” Toms lips met your forehead as you cuddled up on the couch today. Extra tired and almost positive the baby was screaming at you for rest. You cuddled a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle.

“Mmh, just fine.” You give him a smile as his lips come down to meet yours.

Stealing some popcorn from the bowl, he heads over to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“I’m thinking we do shrimp tonight?” He looked over and you made a face.

“Ew, no.” You shake your head and he gives a furrowed brow look.

“What? You love shrimp!” He responds and you feel yourself growing hot. Hiding deeper in the Blanket and not wanting to show your face.

“Well, I’m just not in the mood for it tonight.” That was another thing, lots and lots of emotions. Luckily Tom had plenty of emotions to match.

“Okay...tuna?” He offers and you shook your head. “Steak?” Once again and no. “Chicken?” No. “Okay, love, you’ve gotta help me out. I know you’re not feeling well but I’m helpless in here.” He says and your eyes start to water. He notices and immediately comes over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he comes in front of the couch and crouches down to you. “What’s wrong?” He stroked your cheek and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You sniffle. “Seriously, I’ll help you. I’m thinking pasta.” You smiled and he did too.

“Yeah that’s not too bad.”

And so you two made and ate dinner completely normally. No tears from you, no sickness from you. Tom only talked about the waves out today and how much you would’ve loved it. Now you two spent time washing up.

“You think that one girl with red hair will be there like last year? She was so annoying.” You laughed as you got excited again for competition. Tom grew tense as you mentioned it. You noticed that. How he didn’t talk much about competition anymore. It went from the only thing you two talked about to now nothing. You knew how excited he was, the both of you were but suddenly it was like that excitement was put in a box to rest.

“Yeah...she was.” He kinda laughed but then just washed harder at the dish.

“Everything okay? You’ve kinda stopped talking about competition.” You put down your plate and that's when he took a deep breath.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He tells you, pressing his lips into a lying smile that you knew.

“Baby, you can tell me anything you know. I’m always here for—“ and with that, he cut you off and told you the words you hated to hear.

“I-I took you out of the competition,” Tom sighed, dropping the dish rag on the counter in defeat. He watches as your face goes from annoyed to shock. Anger builds behind the eyes he find peace in. “It was wrong me me to do so—“

“damn right it was wrong of you to do so!” You slam your hand on the counter. “W-why would you?”

“You were sick! You were so sick for so long and what was I going to let you do? just make yourself worse—“

“it was the stress! I told you it was the—“

The built up ignored tension between you both finally caused him to snap.

“Is your period being late stress too?” His words caused the room to be silent. You take a sharp breath as you stare at him with anger but not at him anymore, at the fear of your new life.

“I’m just late, it’s normal for a woman like me to be rhis stressed and late...” you trailed off and this time he had the red face.

“Bullshit. What happened at that doctors appointment.” He demanded. You didn’t say a word at first which only angered him more. “Damnit (y/n)—“

“I’m pregnant.” You finally cry out and he knew his thoughts could be true, he knew they had to be but the moment those words left your mouth his whole body froze. He went pale with fear and shock, his hand no longer gripping the counter out of anger but out of support in case he passes out. The tears that left your eyes were uncontrollable as you let out a sob, the first sob that snapped tom back into reality.

He didn’t think twice, his arms supportively wrap around you as he tells you sweet nothings to try and calm you and himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He mumbled into your hair. You swallowed hard as you pulled back, your face wet with tears and you sniffled. His thumbs come up to wipe away each tear and each trace of mascara.

“Because I wanted to be normal still! I wanted to compete, I wanted to surf! I can’t surf anymore tom, i'm going to be a mom and I won’t have time for surfing.” You sob more and he only pulls you back into his grasp.

“I’m so selfish and stupid to even think to compete but I just want to n-not—“ you can’t even spit it out anymore.

“Who said you can’t surf when you’re a mom?” He moved back to hold your face. You didn’t look at him, he wasn’t going to force you to either. This was your decisions right now, he just wanted to listen.

“When you’re a woman and a mother, everything is for your child. You will have time to surf because you’re a dad but no one wants a mom to do anything but take care of their kid and I’ll love this baby so much, I will, but don’t want to lose myself. I’m young, you’re young and you’re about to be the next big thing.” You punch his shoulder playfully trying to lighten things up. “I—i-W-we’ll—“ you start again and he shakes his head.

“Don’t even say it. Sweetheart, you’re having a baby, our baby. I will make sure you still surf, when it’s safe, Of course. I-I don’t even have the words right now, my heart is racing, feel it.” He placed your hand over his chest to feel his pounding heart. “You will be (y/n) Holland, the infamous surfer that beat Tom Holland twice last year and you will be the mother to our kid. Their badass mom.” He cracks a smile as his hand goes to your stomach.

A shared moment where he only touches the stomach as he learns about it. You look at him softly and he looks at you as if you were the entire world. As if he was a little kid at sea world for the first time, he looks at you with beauty and hope and a hint of thankfulness

“For a minute,” you speak again. “I thought you were completely calm about this.” You chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No, I actually think I’m going to throw up.” He held his breath for a moment before he moved to the trash can and emptied his worried stomach.

This time it was you rubbing his back and wiping his mouth. Maybe you wanted to roll your eyes at the Irony but you just knew he loved you.

Holland. He used the last name Holland on you for the first time you’d ever heard it. He said it so confidently as if you two were already married. Holland. You can get use to that.

-

Day of competition

there was this sort of shock in everyone’s face as they watched you walk in shorts and a tee. Joining the crowds of people instead of getting ready for the waves of water.

This year was no wetsuit with your board, slathering sunscreen on your face as you got ready but rather taking a seat in that sand just like everyone else. Carrying a baby no one knew about except you and Tom and a few friends and family.

Your body was warm with nerves, hundreds of cameras here usually captured the sea, interviewing the surfers afterwards. Although it was not like Hollywood, there was no TMZ or dailymail, but there was enough interest and news casters to tilt their heads for why they infamous (y/n) (y/l/n)—soon to be (y/n) Holland—took a seat with the friends and family. Cheering on from the sand.

“Hey.” Z snaps you out of your constant looking around, how your eyes never focused on one thing.

“Ease up a bit, babes, no one even knows.” She knew, you knew you had to explain to her when you were sitting out. Just as Tom explained to his brothers and the two of you both would explain to his mother after competition. For he knew the women would get so excited she would explode

“Right.” Was all you said as you started clapping with the rest of the crowd when the games begun. It would be a moment for them to get to tom, they always let the younger ones go first, you and Tom were in that fine middle where you had to wait just for the middle of the games.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Z asked with a hint of excitement to her voice. She kept it quite enough to where it was just you.

“I’m okay with either.” You didn’t ever care much for gender, although a girl would be nice to balance out the male testosterone you’re always around. “A girl would be nice though.” You smile at Z.

She gives a smile back, leans back on the towel as she soaks up the sun. “And Tom?” She asked and you shrugged.

He had talked about almost everything but a boy or girl, when you asked if he cared he told you,

“as long as they have two arms, two legs, a torso, a head, comes out of me with no trouble, then it’s a perfect surfing buddy.” You quote him exactly, smiling at his words from a few nights ago.

When he found out, his hands never left your stomach, even though you reminded him the baby was only the size of a grape. That well...it was just a bunch of cells forming up in the moment that couldn’t exactly kick for it had legs the size of your pinky nail. He still waited, he waited and waited, you didn’t even know what he was waiting for at one point for he would pause between his words at the baby or when he asked you a question he looked down at your stomach as if they would reply for you or before you.

“I know hes nervous as hell, but he’s so excited, I know it. The other day Harrison told me he cried when he told him. Tom, crying.” Z laughed a bit and you did too.

“If you think I’m the emotional one...turn on coco or inside out and see what happens to that man.” You chuckled as you turned your head back to the waters to watch tom with a smile on his face blow a kiss in your direction before getting on his board. Paddling out to the sea you watch him get ready to take the first wave, the crowd goes wild and your hand rests over your stomach.

This time, next year, you would sit on these sands with a smaller version of the two of you.

August.

Being early in your pregnancy but far enough to show was not as glamorous as people made it be.

Your shorts no longer fit, shirts started to get loose at the top and tight at the bottom and for the love of heaven you slept so much. Tom liked the idea of endless naps, somedays you wondered if he was the pregnant one instead of you. As he slouched around, ate just as many snacks as you and started to even complain about some of the same things you did.

Maybe it was the impact your moods had on him or the fact he stopped drinking caffeine since you no longer could have it and he didn’t know what his life was before morning coffee was with you. He was almost the same as you were durning the pregnancy.

“What are you doing?” Putting on a bikini for the first time since you told Tom. For the first time in about a month. You didn’t like the fit much anymore, the bloation you constantly had and the extra weight you now carried in your thighs, arms and breasts made you insecure. The top that used to fit perfect now had you grunting to tie. But you had to wear what you had to wear to get you in the water.

“I’m coming with you to the beach.” You say innocently and he shakes his head.

“You’re not picking up a board, you know that. Besides, the waters have been rough lately, there’s that storm coming in and one hard wave can hit you and I don’t want that to happen.” He exaggerates and you look at him with a dead stare.

“Tom, I haven’t touched the water in over a month, I’m pretty sure my skin cells are changing because of it.” You exaggerate as well and he comes up to you.

“Well, I’m not letting you in the water. It’s too dangerous.” He was serious, at first you thought he was just being dramatic, he was still going to let you swim but he was 100% serious.

“Tom, you’re kidding.” You scoff a bit and he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry darling, I know a lot is happening—“ he starts and you move back.

“The doctor said I am healthy enough to be physically active and I—“ before you could finish he cut you off.

“The doctor said you could do some squats, leg workouts, lift a 5lb weight, that was the type of exercise he said. The waters are too dangerous, please don’t argue with me.” He pleads but your emotions get the best of you. Anger starting to build and your body heating up.

Tom had learnt one thing so far; don’t upset the pregnant women and that’s exactly what he did.

“You’re telling me to not argue with you when you are the one holding me hostage in my own home? God, Tom, I have a life still too! A month ago you said you understood what it was going to take and now you’re treating me the way I specifically asked not to! I’m getting in the water, I haven’t been in the water for months it feels like and that’s all I know—“ your rant continues but Tom isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s looking at your side view in the mirror.

Your bump is showing, the bump he swore he could kinda feel but not see was now showing. Almost like it grew overnight.

“Fuck, Tom! Look at me while I’m—“ you start to yell again but he steps closer.

“Look.” He stares at the mirror and comes closer to your bump.

“Oh my…” you see exactly what he’s seeing. The small curve outwards that is your swollen stomach. Your bump.

“May I?” He asked and your mood went from angry to overfilled with happiness. Your eyes starting to tear ss you nodded.

“Tom, it’s your child too, you can touch.” You told him and he did. Your hand even went to your stomach as you rubbed over the bump that was barely forming.

“It’s like it happened overnight.” He laughed a bit and you did too.

“I swear it wasn’t there last night when I got out of the shower. I swear.” You let a few tears fall and he peppers soft kisses.

“I’m sorry.” He gently stroked at the stomach and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry too. I know you just want what’s best for us but I’m just…” you sniffle some more not being able to finish.

“I know baby, I know.” He gets up and wraps his arms around your back. Pulling you in for a hug for you to cry on his chest. So emotional over everything but he was right there. Right there with you.

“We can call the doctor about you surfing, we can call him right now if you want. But I just can’t lose you.” He gives a smile and you nod as your lips meet with his.

“C-can you order the chicken from the place I like?” You finally regain your composure and he nods.

“Of course, anything else?” He looks down at the stomach and you shake your head.

“No, not for now.” You smile down at the small bump forming. “Wait!” You stop him as he’s leaving to grab the phone. He turns to face a guilty looking you, “and mozzarella sticks.” You rub your stomach and he nods. With a faint smile he goes,

“always.” As that was your constant craving. Leaving you in the room for a moment and coming back to see you dressed back ins sweats and a tee shirt, Tom smiled and gladly cuddled up next to you, rubbing and talking to the bump about the future. Maybe you couldn’t surf, but you had Tom right by your side.

December.

Christmas cookies and sweetly salted popcorn occupied your side as you spent a snowy Christmas in London. No beach, no blazing sun even during the day, Tom took you home where you were now five months pregnant.

Heavily showing and to even think you wanted to go surfing months ago was laughable. You hated getting up to shower somedays for it was too much work.

“Darling, Angel, my pretty girl,” Tom sat next to you nervous with his next words. “I know you’re pregnant but there are only so many Christmas cookies.” He told you and you smacked his shoulder.

“Thomas, she’s pregnant! She’s allowed as many cookies as she wants besides there are more in the oven but pregnant women gets first pick as she is carrying my grandchild.” His mom immediately came to your defense. Taking so much good care of you while you were here, Tom doesn’t even think he got this much affection as a sick child.

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing for her to eat cookies, I just want one!” Tom defended himself and you handed him a cookie and you felt your baby kick.

“See? They don't even want you stealing our cookies. I’m eating for two, I’m eating for your baby. You eat a lot by the way! Remember that summer you went through the whole fridge in a week? Yeah, now I’m eating for a tiny version of that! And myself! It’s hard out here for me and what did you do huh? Take two minutes!” You snatched the cookie back from him and rubbed your stomach. His brothers stifled a laugh and Tom grew red in embarrassment.

“I last longer than two minutes.” He says is a mumble.

Rolling your eyes, You rested your head on Toms shoulder and moved his hand over to the kicking stomach. “She says thank you.” You smile as you take a bite from the cookie.

“A she?” His mom perks up and the rest of the family does.

It was a mistake, you and Tom had a battle of the sexes. It seemed as if you didn’t want to know the gender right before your winter holiday. Or really the gender at all. The gender was available for you guys now but you both didn’t see it as a big deal. The baby’s room would be filled with ocean themed toys and a gentle blue wall Anyways. And besides, whatever they decide to be they would make the perfect surfing buddy. Although it was still fun to think of, You thought a girl and Tom swore a boy.

“No, mum, we still don’t know I promise. (Y/n) is just messing around.” He swore and the family relaxed again.

“He’s right, I am just joking. Tom is probably right with his assumption, thinking it may be a boy. With all this moving and eating, just like Tom.” You poke his cheek and Tom again flusters in embarrassment.

“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.” He told you and you kissed his temple.

“I know baby, I’m just teasing you. My man knows how to stay fit and sexy.” You playfully rub his stomach and suddenly the stifled laughs from the boys turn into disgusted noises.

There was everything to indicate a boy, well, mostly just a gut feeling. Tom's mother described her pregnancy with Tom to you and it was nearly the same. A baby boy, you could see that. You would need another fridge and a lot more paper towels assuming the babe will be like Tom and eat yet spill everything. You liked the idea of a boy. Plus, Tom had been playing a stupid game where he asked the baby questions making it kick for an answer. When Tom asked if it was a boy or girl, it kicked the moment he said boy.

The ding of the kitchen timer went off, more cookies fresh out of the oven and Tom was quick to jump up.

“Let me help m’lady up.” He grabs your hands and you grunt as you stand up. You walk with Tom at your side and once you are alone eating more cookies in the kitchen your hand rubs over your stomach as you feel the baby kick in excitement.

“Off the topic of gender, I think they miss the ocean. They kick so much just when I sit in the bath like they are having fun in the water.” You mention water and you feel a kick. They couldn’t understand, but they could hear and a smile rose to yours and Tom's face.

“Then they’re just like their mama.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Who knows, maybe once we get back I’ll get in the—“ before you can finish your sentence about surfing, a sharp kick to your bladder causes you to hunch over with a pained face. Tom worried as he held you panicked but you got back up with a deep breath.

“Nevermind, little one didn’t like that idea.” You hold onto his arms tightly.

“Everything okay? Just a bladder kick?” He panicked and you just nodded.

“Yup.” Your face scrunches up again. “Just the bladder.” You suddenly have the urge to pee. “Now shoo, I’ve got to pee.” You tell him and he looks at you in confusion.

“You just peed like—“ you give him a look making him think about how he’s finishing his sentence. “Right, my darling.” He moved out of your way to let you go. Snatching one more cookie from the tray, he smiled as he thought how next year at this exact time, you would be holding a little baby.

April.

One week. You were one week late and as any normal pregnant woman would be resting in bed and rubbing over her swollen belly and anticipating the child’s arrival. Although that was not what you were doing.

Against Tom's wishes, you went back to work to see the kids start up their surfing lessons. Although there would be no swimming for you, no waves for you just yet, seeing the kids happy to be there was something that sparked joy to your heart always. Helped ease your nerves and turn them into excitement.

“Mrs. (Y/l/n)-Holland, look what I learnt how to do!” One of the kids calls out. You had a smile for not only did they call you by both yours and Tom's name, but that they had always been excited to show you new things.

“That was amazing Ryder!” You clapped at the boy who did a handstand. He had a big smile with teeth missing. Your hand went over your stomach again, an aching pain that was noting but a false labor.

The doctor said it was fine. Women always experienced this right before birth and just take a deep breath but don’t waste your time rushing to the hospital just for them to send you home.

It was normal to be late and that you had a stressful year so it was okay. The doctor mentioned that you still felt contractions which meant you were close. But when it was Tom, every slight indicator of pain you felt meant a freak out where he rushed around the house to get the baby bag and try and get you in the car when in reality, you just had to pee. 

“T-That’s really cool.” You wince and the boys face goes from excitement to worry. Within the luck, Tom comes jogging from the parking lot with lunch for the two of you. Hoping to get in the water with the kids and keep an eye on you.

“Hey Angel.” He kissed your cheek but noticed your pain. “Everything okay?” He panicked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, Ryder here was just showing me how he can do a handstand now—“ you can’t even finish as the pain was strong.

“(Y/n)?” Tom needed to be calm, your face scrunched up as you held your swollen stomach. “Darling, Angel, pretty girl, look at me.” He used all the pet names you liked and you looked up at him with worry in your eyes. “I think it’s time for us to meet the little one.” He nods with a trying smile and you feel an even sharper pain.

“Mmh, I can’t do this.” You breath heavily as you hold onto the stomach. “Yes you can, if you can surf a wave that is 12 feet with no wipeout then you can birth our baby.” He promised and also got the little boy who was so excited to show you his new moves a moment ago to run and get another adult.

“Tom, I-I can’t.” You felt yourself tearing up and he shakes his head. Your heart pounding and mind swarming with worried.

“You can, you will. You are the strongest women I—“ before he can start his motivational speech you cry out in pain.

“Get me in the goddamn car!” You cry and he nods and gets you up before anything worse. He rushes to the hospital as quick as he can, holding your hand and trying to not crash as you hold your stomach and scream.

When he gets to the hospital, he’s still in a wetsuit. They take immediate action into getting you into a room where you are laying with your legs up waiting for a doctor. Holding Tom's hand as you cry.

“Uh sir?” The doctor walks in and looks at the man in the wetsuit. “We’re going to have to ask you to put on scrubs...helps prevent any ourside clothing germs getting on the baby...are you wearing anything under that?” She asked and he immediately started unzipping.

“Jesus tom, not here, she wants you to get changed in the bathroom.” You shake your head as you run your hands over your face. In pain but want to laugh at your worried boyfriend for how he was acting in the moment.

“Right! Right!” He quickly changes from the wetsuit into the scrubs. The doctors look at him funny but let it go as you’re clearly in pain and needing the baby to be out.

“You got this love, you’re doing so good—“ he starts again but you don’t even want to hear it.

“was this really worth two minutes! I’m getting my fucking tubes tied!” You scream at him and he flushes a deep shade of red as one of the nurses giggles.

After one more big push you heard the sound of a cry filled the room. For just a second, all the pain you felt went away as you see the body of your baby, baby boy. You both were right, a beautiful little boy.

“A boy.” Tom breathes out in awe.

“Dad you wanna come cut the cord?” He looked at you for approval and you nodded. He cut the cord with shaky hands, couldn’t focus for the life of him as he just stared at the boy. You only got to hold him for a second before he’s taken off to a bath. Tom following them before they bring him back in a bundle of blankets.

“Oh my…” you hold the beautiful boy. His little lips open just a bit to make a sound while his eyes flutter to adjust to the light. “Look at him tom.” You feel yourself cry and Tom does too.

“Wow, look at you.” He touched the boy's cheek who immediately tried to take the finger into his mouth. “You did that.” He tells you as the two of you admire it.

“We did that.” You tell him and he smiles a bit. “Although yeah, it was mostly me.” The boy stares hard at Tom, Tom who was still in just swim trunks and scrubs.

“Hey, I ate a lot with you during this pregnancy. Even had my own morning sickness.” He teased and you only laughed.

The room going silent for a moment. Hearing the little cooes of your boy as you held him. Toms finger tracing over his cheek when you finally spoke, “Caspian.”

Tom had mentioned how he liked the name for a boy, more than once. It had connections to the water and to Europe so the child would have a bit of both. You had to admit to yourself that you liked it but just wanted to stick with a more casual name. But looking at how he looked at you the moment you said that name, you knew it was the one.

“Caspian?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Caspian Holland.” You told.

He smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Holland? Just that?” He asked as well and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” You smiled. A perfect moment in the perfect situation was interrupted by a small nurse who held a tee shirt.

“Uh sir?” The nurse looked at the two of you and both of your attentions were caught. “So unfortunately we have to ask you to wear a shirt, we got one from the lost and found for you hoping that it would fit.” The shirt read “I’m not as fun as mom” and Tom's face dropped. A proud smirk rises to your face as you look at Tom who’s flared his nostrils just a bit to show his embarrassment.

“Yeah Tom, put on the shirt.” You encouraged and he looked at you. His eyes telling you that you’re going to regret that but you can’t wait 15 years into the future to tell your son.

Sighing as he took the shirt from the poor nurse and sat back down on the chair in a huff.

“You’re never letting me live this one down are you?” Shaking your head you look back down at the boy,

“no, I don’t think we will.” You brought your dry cracked lips down to the boys forehead, you had no water within the past hour and screaming with crying seemed to make you as dead as possible. “Caspian. Caspian Holland.” He whispers again. “Thank you.” He looked at you and you furrowed your brows.

“For everything.” After months of no surfing, months of pain and aches, instead of saying anything back you looked at him and said

“sushi.” Was all you said and he furrowed his brows.

“W-what?” He questioned.

“I need sushi, please.” You sigh and he smiled. Months of being unable to eat any fish that was all you wanted in the moment.

“One California roll coming up.” He kissed your cheek and then the boy's cheek. Calling in the nurse, sending for a California roll and tuna.

Caspian was sleeping soundly in Tom's arms while you ate and rested. Everything was worth it, from the moment he stepped on a plane one summer to Hawaii he knew it was worth it for he found a family in the end.

June.

Once again the sand was squishing under your toes. Feeling each and every grain as you held your baby boy tightly bundled in blankets against your chest as you walked out to the beach. He was freshly bathed, you and Tom took turns. You were so eager the moment you were cleared to get back in the water after birth that the day the doctor cleared you for physical activity, you did it.

But tonight wasn’t you getting in the water, it was you greeting Tom and telling him to come back inside.

“Dinner is done.” You call out to him as he jogs back to the two of you. The baby boy cooing as he sees the ocean and his fathers dripping wet figure coming towards them.

“Hey, look who’s out.” He immediately leans in and kisses all over the pretty baby boy's face. “My sweet boy is so fresh and clean.”

You and Tom had argued about who he had looked more like,You or Tom. he had Tom's nose for sure and his big brown eyes that you knew were going to be trouble. If you had a hard time saying no to Tom when he batted his lashes and gave a glossy look, it was going to be impossible to say no to your beautiful boy.

“He just took a bath. But it wasn’t the ocean.” You smiled and Tom pressed a kiss to your face too.

“Mmh, did you?” He looks at the boy who was yawning in his mother’s arms. “Want to swim a bit?” He asked and you shook your head.

After birth, Tom did a lot of the work. He loved it too. He claimed you needed rest, in which you did, but you would often find him just sitting in the nursery staring at the baby boy. Telling him stories to sleep and kissing his face. He would let you surf, bathe, sleep, all while he took care of your beloved boy.

“No, I’m so tired I think if I use my legs any longer they will snap.” You give a pout and Tom immediately kisses it away.

Tom started to gather his stuff, the beach towel and the bag he normally carried and the moment he started to pack up your baby boy let out a wail.

Within the two months of his birth, you were able to identify each cry. When he was hungry it was more of a gurgle, when he was sleepy it was more strained and forced, when he craved touch it was a whimper sounding cry and then there was this. He was simply upset something did not go his way. May you or Tom stepped away for a moment, the bottle gone too early, but now it was his father packing up his stuff that makes him scream a cry that makes heads turn.

“What’s the matter bubs?” Tom pouts as he sets the stuff down and comes over to him.

Once the stuff is set down the cries settle just a bit, settle enough until tom takes him out of your arms and presses him up against his body.

Still wet from the surf, you both think the baby liked it. While Tom occupied little Caspian, you picked up the towels and his bag for him and once again the boy let out a wail cry which made you and Tom furrow your brows.

“I-I don’t know what it is. I-I changed him and I bathed him and he was perfectly fine and—“ you start to panic and as you panic you drop the stuff which calms his cries. Tom immediately took notice and grew a smile that made his heart flutter in his chest.

“(Y/n),” he stops you and you look up at him with a worried look as if you’ve done something wrong. “He wants to stay. He wants to stay on the beach.” Tom says in a calm voice and the boy was now only cooing in Tom's arms. He bounced gently but mostly cooed as his daddy smiled at him.

“H-He knows we’re leaving the beach.” You sigh and come over to the boys. Petting your sons head as he relaxes in his fathers arms.

“Like I’ve always said, just like his mama.” Tom smiled up at you and you caught his lips for a kiss. “Well…” you rub your hands on your thigh, wiping off the sand you got stuck all over your hands. “Since Caspian always gets his way, I better bring dinner out here.” You smile as you poke at the sweet boys face and Tom moves and has a serious face.

“(Y/n), no, you can’t just whip out your boob in front of—OW! I’m kidding!” You smacked his arm for the stupid comment he made that at first had you worried.

“I hate you. I’m bringing out the dinner.” You start to walk off and he smiles.

“You love us!” He shouts back.

“Just Caspian! You? Not much you. remember...you’re not as fun as mom!” You call out to him, sending him a wink and he wants to say something back but he holds his tounge.

Looking down at the baby boy he says, “when I teach you how to surf I need you to beat mums ass a few times while you’re out there. Just for her little comments.” Tom spoke to the boy and he cooes. “Atta boy.” With that he plots down on the sand towel.

Setting caspian down on the towel for just a moment so he can strip from his wetsuit and be closer to him. You come back out balancing the plates of food for you and Tom as you seat next to them and eat. Leaning your head on Toms shoulder and kissing at it.

You never knew that one competition, one amateur British boy and one shared basket of fish and chips could lead you to the best moments of your life. Could lead you to the best family you’ve ever had.

Please leave feedback! It helps me grow as a writer and lets me know what more you want to see!

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[ffamranxii]

HAIKYUU!! COUPLES HEADCANONS

DAISUGA

-Daichi goes to the gym to work out. Suga goes to the gym to ogle Daichi

-Suga has a massive sweet tooth

-Daichi cooks, Suga cleans

-Suga is a little shit who is not above seducing Daichi in public. He can say the most lewd things without batting an eye while Daichi blushes furiously

-Daichi and Kuroo once hooked up at training camp. They do not talk about it

-Daichi is good friends with Michimiya and Kiyoko. Suga is closer to Asahi

-Daisuga rarely fight and are often asked for relationship advice. Daichi tries to discourage this because “guys I didn’t realize Yui had a crush on me or that Suga was in love with me for three years.”

-Daichi can’t dance, won’t dance, and refuses to acknowledge the time he got trashed and twerked

-Suga dislikes his given name unless it’s said by Daichi, who is the only person allowed to call him Koushi

-Suga is extremely flexible. Daichi is not.

-Daichi or Suga getting hit on makes Daichi uncomfortable. Getting hit on amuses Suga, and Daichi getting hit on makes him horny

-It took all of high school for Daisuga to get together, because Daichi is oblivious and Suga assumed Daichi wasn’t into him. Daichi’s dumbness and their mutual pining becomes a fond, shared joke several years later

-Daichi has no gag reflex. 

-Daisuga have a very fat, very orange cat named Ninja. He’s surprisingly fast and agile despite looking like a furry basketball. (Daichi is a dog person and did not even want Ninja at first. He suspects Kuroo had something to do with this. Suga sometimes playfully gets upset because “Ninja likes you better than me, Dai!”)

-Everyone expects Suga to be the dominant one but Suga is more than willing to be submissive for Daichi and has on several occasions

ASANOYA

-Noya gets up before sunrise to run. Asahi would rather die than leave his bed before 8am

-Noya turns the coffee pot on and cooks breakfast to lure Asahi out of bed

-Noya is surprisingly patient, gentle, quiet, and kind when it comes to Asahi and his insecurities

-Noya is the type to bottle his insecurities and fears until they explode. The only one who can calm him back down is Asahi

-Asahi makes bratty faces when he thinks Noya isn’t looking

-Noya and Tanaka spend a lot of time with Daisuga because of the Daichi&Suga&Asahi&Kiyoko friendship. Asahi and Ennoshita become good friends

-Asahi doesn’t understand the distance between Noya and his sisters because Asahi is very close to his

-It is impossible to embarrass Noya

-Asahi gets a lot of inspiration for his fashion designs from traveling with Noya

-Noya knows how to braid hair and likes to play with Asahi’s

-Asahi enjoys physical affection but dislikes overt PDA. Noya would happily climb Asahi like a tree in public if Asahi would let him

-Only Asahi calls Noya by his given name

-Noya knows he likes Asahi early on but Asahi’s panic (“omg someone LIKES me?? NOYA likes me?? My crush??”) at his confession prevent them getting together until after the Date Tech match (after Asahi rejoins the team).

-Noya is affected by wanderlust and that’s why he travels. Sometimes Asahi joins him. They get married in Canada during one of these trips. (I once read a fantastic asanoya fic where a significant event happened in Canada so Canada is my asanoya place now)

-Noya sends Asahi a postcard from every place he’s ever visited. Sometimes he’ll spend over half an hour trying to find the *best* one, only to buy them all and send them as a sort of big long letter. Asahi saves them all in a photo album that lives on the coffee table. (Some people have a coffee table book, Asahi has a photo album.)

-Noya prefers to top. The one thing he’s really uncomfortable with is being on the bottom (physically laying beneath someone and also sex).

KUROKEN

-Kuroken have a black cat and a calico and enjoy naps on the couch with the kitties. Kuroo has SO MANY pictures in his phone of Kenma curled around the kitties.

-Kuroo: “Love you.” Kenma: “Hate you.”

-Kenma CAN cook, but likes that Kuroo likes taking care of him

-Every game Kuroo has ever owned is multiplayer because he only games with Kenma

-Kenma’s favorite games involve critical thinking and puzzles. Kuroo enjoys watching him play

-Kuroo is an introvert masquerading as an extrovert. Kenma is an introvert. They enjoy quiet nights in.

-Kuroo has anxiety. Kenma always knows when Kuroo is anxious and how to fix it

-People make Kenma anxious. Kuroo makes himself anxious.

-Kenma’s nicknames for Kuroo are Kuro and Koroemon. Kuroo calls Kenma Kyanma and kitten

-Kuroo has been in love with Kenma for as long as he can remember, since they were kids. Kenma knows this, but doesn’t understand he feels the same way until Kuroo goes off to college

-Kuroo is the one who discovered Daichi’s lack of gag reflex. He’s delighted to learn that Kenma lacks one as well

-Kenma moves more slowly than Kuroo. He’s not as comfortable with physical affection and sex as Kuroo is. Their relationship progresses slowly, and Kuroo lets Kenma lead. 

-After Kenma’s confession, how he feels about Kuroo is one of the very few things Kuroo does not doubt or make himself anxious over.

-Kuroo can, will, and has go(ne) on and on and ON about Kenma until someone shuts him up. It drives Yaku up the fucking wall in high school.

-Kenma does a retro game stream once or twice a month made up of games he and Kuroo used to play as kids. Kuroo actually games with him on those days and Kenma’s followers are quick to notice and speculate because Kenma has literally never gamed with another person in the same room before. Sometimes Kenma can only post the actual gameplay because Kuroo ruined the footage of them by being excessively sappy. (Kuroo is NOT above flirting and dirty talk to get an edge and Kenma doesn’t really think his fans need to know that.)

-Kuroken do not talk about Kuroo’s mom or sister

-The Kozumes love “Tetsu-chan” and Kuroo’s grandparents adore Kenma. Kuroken get along with each other’s families better than they do their own.

-Kuroo is tactile. He’s that ass-slapping friend. Kenma thinks he’s ridiculous

-Kuroo used to be dislike Hinata, because Kenma and Hinata are extremely good friends and Kuroo was afraid Hinata would take Kenma away from him. Kenma has assured him he doesn’t like Hinata like that but Kuroo doesn’t warm up until Hinata starts dating Kageyama

BOKUAKA

-Akaashi is 100% in charge of the house and the financials and his word is law. Not because he’s an asshole but because Bokuto is whipped

-Akaashi is a screamer. Bokuto has a big dick.

-Bokuto is the calmest between him and his sisters. His sisters have formed an Akaashi fanclub

-Bokuaka kiss a lot during sex

-Bokuto fucking loves owls

-Akaashi used to be embarrassed over being a manga editor but Bokuto thinks it’s the coolest job ever, “even better than mine!” When his authors need references, Akaashi sends them pictures of Bokuto. Bokuto takes this responsibility very seriously

-Bokuaka exclusively refer to each other by first name but Akaashi can’t break the habit of using -san

-Akaashi and Kenma are very good friends. Bokuto thinks they might even be better bros than him and Kuroo. (Kenma is one of the few people Akaashi calls by first name, and one of the only people who calls Akaashi by his.)

-Akaashi overthinks as a result of anxiety, but he doesn’t think he has anxiety. He prefers to call it “seeing the issue from all sides”

-Akaashi and Bokuto do yoga together. Bokuto behaves himself surprisingly well around Akaashi in yoga pants

-Akaashi decided to attend Fukurodani after watching Bokuto play and literally for no other reason

-Bokuaka are the embodiment of love at first sight and their relationship has an unreal, almost storybook quality to it because they are literally perfect for each other. Because of this, Bokuto doesn’t understand why other people struggle so much to start and maintain a relationship, no matter how many times Kuroo tells him “just because your relationship is straight out of a movie doesn’t mean the rest of the world works like that”

-Bokuaka have a koi pond in their backyard and have named all the fish. Bokuto always asks about them when he’s away for games

IWAOI

-Iwaizumi cooks and cleans because he’s always been the one taking care of Oikawa, but he refuses to fold the laundry because “I’m not doing everything for you, you fucking freeloader”

-Iwaizumi cooks healthy “old man food.” Oikawa’s sweet tooth suffers

-Oikawa is that guy who puts more cream and sugar and other additives in his coffee than actual coffee. He’s tried all of Starbucks’ seasonal drinks and never gets the same thing twice

-Iwaoi have very heated arguments about if Godzilla can kick King Kong’s ass or not. Iwaizumi of course sides with Godzilla

-Iwaoi once fought about the original purpose of Stonehenge and now no one can mention England without it coming back up

-Oikawa only became comfortable with his glasses because Iwaizumi likes them

-Iwaoi have been friends since they were in diapers. The whole volleyball team took bets on when they’d announce their relationship

-Both the Oikawas and the Iwaizumis respond when either boy calls for mom or dad. Oikawa calls his sister Nee-chan while Iwaizumi says Oneesan

-Iwaizumi’s favorite of Oikawa’s features is his legs. Oikawa is in love with Iwa’s arms

-Neither of them can remember when they started liking each other or how their relationship started

-Iwaoi are shockingly codependent and do NOT do separation (during university in Argentina/California or for away games) well

-Deep down Oikawa is extremely insecure and worries he isn’t enough - in volleyball, in school, in his family, in his relationship. Iwaizumi always knows when he’s putting on a front and how to cheer him back up

-Iwaizumi is secretly so soft and weak for Oikawa

-After the Olympics Iwaizumi moves to Argentina to be with Oikawa and they get married. They move back to Japan after Oikawa retires from volleyball and after gay marriage becomes legal there

-Oikawa keeps various plants around the house and the patio and is extremely proud of them. He paints all their pots and even names some of them (which Iwaizumi thinks is disgustingly cute). His most prized plant is a lucky bamboo he bought on a whim when iwaoi first moved in together.

-Oikawa can’t deepthroat. It makes him so jealous that Iwaizumi can

-Iwaizumi blushes whenever Oikawa gives him a genuine compliment

-Iwaizumi has a praise kink. Oikawa has a “whatever comes out of Iwa’s mouth” kink

-Iwaizumi has dom tendencies.

[oviids]

pls share some of your spn fic recs 🥺🥺

ok, a few things first:

followers and mutuals who do not have supernatural brainworms, kindly avert your eyes

i don’t normally rec or even read much fanfic any more but this is a CRISIS ok (cont.)

there is so. much. content for deancas out there and i have incredibly high standards, several ancient ao3 bookmarks, can speedread, and want to spare you guys the experience of wading through it all.

i also have a section for spn femslash since I was pretty into that back in the day (sadly a lot less fan content for this :/)

I don’t really like au’s or pure smut (I honestly usually just skim or skip those scenes) so if you’re mainly looking for that kind of thing this probably won’t be very helpful to you. jsyk.

i’m not great at describing stuff but i’ll do my best, i’ll also try and add tw’s when neccesary.

i wil try and keep updating this with any other decent fics i find, feel free to rec stuff too since i’m like 7 years behind.(edit 1/25/21) this is getting looooong so i’m going to start making another list on my spn blog rather than update this one

(edit 1/3/21) since this has gotten pretty long i’ve added rating/approximate word counts and marked my particular favorites with an asterisk.

Dean/Cas fic:

So Says The Sword*** - explicit/85k. FUCK its good...au/time travel where dean is not pulled out of hell by cas and says yes to becoming the michael sword. honestly could serve as an alternative to actually watching the show, if you want to get into dean/cas without actually doing that to yourself.

Fata morgana.*  - teen/6k, pst s9 finale. very bela centric and i love it, she finds cas looking for dean in hell.

Redemption Road -misc/600+k. an incredibly long fic from a collaborative writing group back in the day. canon divergent from the end of s6 on, has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans, as well as the lovecratian mythos connection. ngl when i reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good (i think i don’t remember it very well) but not required to enjoy the first half. if you prefer i have an ebook version i can send you on gdrive.

Someone Who's Feeling For Me* - mature/45k, s12. they run into lisa braeden and dean thinks cas is into her while cas thinks dean still likes her. treats lisa way better than the show ever did and the miscommunication is pretty funny rather than annoying.

a turn of the earth - mature/95k. time travel fic where cas from s10 keeps showing up in deans life from a few years before s1 to right before the hellhounds take his soul.  slow burn, good character study, and at one point cas punches the dad in the face and it rules.

On the Wings of War - teen/85k, canon divergent s5. dean accidentally becomes the Horseman of War. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights.

Named - mature/95k, alternate s5. EXTREMELY blasphemous in a fun sexy way. manages to predict metatron almost to a T. there’s one major character death and its literally jesus christ, everyone is very sad about it and it sets the rest of the story rolling. an alternate interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell which had me on the floor. ngl its kind of misogynistic at points, but its from 2010 and tracks with late oughts-2010 spn (sorry anna the author did you dirty here:/).

The Girlfriend Experience - explicit/15k. uhhh i don’t normally rec or even read smutty stuff unless someone i know is specifically asking for it but this has stuff like sam trying to be a good ally and dean thinking holding hands with cas is ‘kinda gay :/’ minutes after having gay sex with him.

i crippled your heart a hundred times - explicit/19k, s8. cas confesses his feelings and dean spends a long time getting his head out of his ass about it. truly hits different after the actual confession, despite being written six years early it feels like its actually what could have gone down more or less if the writers weren’t talentless demons who hate us.

My Roots Take Flight** - mature/125k. reverse au where cas is a hunter and dean’s an angel...OR IS IT???? an alternate retelling of s4. tw for briefly being set in a psychiatric hospital/the hospital being mentioned somewhat frequently throughout the fic, plus more references to torture in hell and heaven than usual.

The One Thing You Can't Lose* - teen/4k.you know those posts about how cas is a super-strong super-tough ancient warrior but he just lets dean tug him around because he likes it? thats it thats the fic.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - teen/14k, post s8′s ‘goodbye stranger.’ cas is on the run with the angel tablet but keeps in touch with sam and dean by text, he and dean still manage to be terrible at Actual communication.

Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day - mature/30k, post s11. a monster that takes the appearance of your soulmate leads to some wild miscommunications and dealing with years of repression, also dean gets to see cas’ true form which is always cool. tw for non-graphic mentions of underage sexual assault/sex work.

Down to Agincourt - mature/explicit/900++++k, endverse continuation. endverse!cas survives his encounter with lucifer and discovers another time-displaced dean from s7. i’ve only read the two of four parts but its really good, veeeeery slow burn, has a lot of fun oc’s and takes a rather surprising but (imo) entertaining and intriguing turn into Hellenic history and mythology. usual tw’s for endverse/endverse!cas but nothing graphic, it’s actually pretty light-hearted (relatively speaking of course).

Nothing Equals the Splendor** - explicit/8k, THEE finale fix it fic you’ve been waiting for! posits that the entire final episode was just a (very bad and lame) djinn’s vision.

like moses and batman and james dean - explicit/31k, post s8. explores dean’s trauma and internalized homophoba from his technically canon experience with sex work and its impact on his relationship with cas. the sex work itself isn’t really shown in any detail but it’s still a relatively heavy fic.

Crazy Diamonds - explicit/25k, s4/alternate s14. fresh-out-of-hell dean and dean from 10 years in the future are displaced from time and sent to each other’s present.

where the weeds take root - explicit/30k. au where the men of letters kick them out of the bunker and they accidentally move out into the country, get over their codependence and semi retire. featuring chicken coop building, sam volunteering at a dog shelter, gardening, and blissfully mundane domesticity.

No Resting Place - teen/6k. djinn dream fic, switches back and forth between cas’ dream of being married to dean and retired from hunting to the aftermath when he wakes up. tw for brief mention of suicide since, y’know, djinn dream.

any port in a storm - mature/52k. post s8 finale. cas and dean have to pose as a couple going through a rough patch for a case and actually deal with their emotional baggage, cas struggles with being human and metatron is up to stuff.

all this and heaven too* - explicit/7k. in the author’s own words ‘...a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto Dean Winchester.’ absolutely unzipped me emotionally and theologically, its just. so good. tw for very brief mentions of internalized transphobia/dysphoria.

Because it is* - mature/6k, finale fix it. killing chuck does not bring back anyone back and the winchesters spend a very long time dealing with what they’ve lost, cas and dean SOMEHOW still manage to have signifigant communication issues even after the confession. tw for suicidal thoughts/brief attempt.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit* - teen/4k, s6. when cas fell for dean it automatically soulbonded/angel married them, shenanigans ensue when dean finds out during the angel’s civil war. funny and actually written back when s6 was airing so cas is still (or at least pretending to be) kind of an OP asshole which is fun.

Rinse, Repeat - teen/3k, s8. angsty character study of cas as he’s reprogrammed and trained to kill dean. not really dean/cas since its just cas’ pov of canon events but its beautifully written and ends with him snapping out of it through the power of love (also now a canon event!).

Emergence - explicit/59k, canon divergent after s11. dean meets a hunter he only recognizes as their friend claire novak’s missing father, but soon realizes he might be the answer behind the mysterious void in his memories and feelings (aka everyone’s memories of cas are completely wiped away for three years).

Cuckoo And Nest - explicit/10k, early established relationship/character study, cas tries to figure out how he fits into dean’s life and space in the bunker.

Build a Home* - teen/20k, canon divergent s12. sam and eileen are cute and turn the bunker into men of letters/hunters hq and everyone but cas moves in, mutual miscommunication issues and pining ensues.

Down in the River - teen/5k, early s8, cas prays to dean in purgatory while sam and dean try to figure out a way to get him out.

Teaching Poetry to Fish* - mature/52k, ?? BC through the entire series/canon divergent s14 and 15. retelling of crucial scenes throughout the shows timeline from cas’ pov, feat. actual fish and poetry.

the minor fall, the major lift - gen/4k, post confession/finale fixit. dean goes into the empty to save cas and runs into several old friends (and enemies).

With the Kisses of His Mouth* - teen/3k, gen later seasons. dean and cas keep kissing by accident.

Remaining Grace - explicit/109k, alternate s6. au where cas asks dean for help with raphael and dean, of course, does. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.

The face of heaven.* - teen/10k, au, dean is a regular guy and cas is a fallen star (think ‘stardust’, kinda).

Stories Are Made of Mistakes*  - teen/5k. newly human cas has trouble getting used to a human body and humanity in general, but still figures out that he and dean are A Thing before dean does.

Hurry Up And Wait - mature/21k, canon divergent s12. a fairyland and quite possibly LOTR related case comes up and dean goes full fanboy, mary is introduced to the wonders of the peter jackson adaptions, many references and comparisons (including between cas and dean’s ‘friendship’ and arwen/aragon). also charle is still alive and has just been doing fairy stuff this whole time.

There Are Many Things - explicit/28k, s9. cas is extremely lonely/touch-starved and trying to figure out this whole human thing, as well as where he and dean stand after being kicked out of the bunker.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing - teen/40k, post s11 finale. amara helps dean by putting him in a magical coma so he can finally get some much needed rest and show him possible futures for him, sam and cas. meanwhile sam and cas go on a roadtrip (or several) to find componets for a spell to wake dean up. really good sam and cas friendship, they actually talk about their shared lucifer trauma and stuff.

Non-Photo Blue - gen/2k, s4/5/alternate s5. fifty moments from cas’ memories of dean.

Tall Grass - explicit/57k, canon divergent post series. cas becomes the ultimate plant dad. feat the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual botanical info-dumping.

on vessels - no rating/gen/2k. established dean/cas, cas tells dean about how he used to imagine what it would be like to have him as his vessel.

search for tomorrow on every shore* - teen/11k, post-finale (extremely derogatory). some angels in jack’s new heaven act out and dean gets temporarily resurrected in 2003 and runs into his younger self.

Architecture of the Minotaur’s Heart - explicit/45k, very canon divergent post s1. dean’s new house seems to have a life and mind of its own, while in his dreams he sees glimpses of a world and apocalypse that never came to be and an angel that looks strangely like his mysterious neighbor, cas. loosely inspired by the book house of leaves (which i highly recommend for fans of weird horror).

The Distance Of The Setting Sun - explicit/17k, post s5. established dean/cas relationship, team free will finally takes advantage of cas’ abilities to go on vacation around the world.

diamond star halo - teen/5k, s11. dean lets cas use him as a temporary vessel while he recovers from rowena’s spell, sam is a long-suffering third-wheel.

Make Known** - teen/16k, s6/7. dean struggles to understand how cas could have become his enemy and whether he ever truly knew him in the first place.

blunt little instrument* - mature/1.4k, post finale. dean finally confronts his father in heaven, very cathartic.

my heart a compass*** - teen/10k, post confession. the empty forces cas to re-experience his most regretted moments while dean tries to snap him out of it and bring him home.

A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - teen/11k, s6. cas from the very start of s4 is brought forward in time by s6!cas to distract the brothers from his and crowley’s plans.

The Cuckoo Father - mature/8k, s7 au. the woman who found cas in the river post-leviathans does not marry him bc he was sent to her by god or whatever, but actually identifies him as jimmy novak and sends him back to claire and amelia.

The Dead Dean Clause* - teen/5k, post alt s5 ending. team free will celebrates surviving taking down lucifer by getting blitzed, cas lies to a cop and gets an impromptu driving lesson. title/description sound dark i know but it’s actually very funny and light.

Suck It, Judy Garland - mature/20k, s12 (after the ‘i love you...i love all of you’ episode). cas and sam have to pretend to be a couple for a case and dean is NOT happy about it.

By Daylight and In Dream - teen/16k, s5. pre-dean/cas, dean invites cas to use his dreams to hide from the other angels. tw for very brief mention of a memory/dream of alastair sexually assaulting dean.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven - mature/22k, post-canon. an actually happy (if sometimes bittersweet) heaven endgame written several years ago, though some details are rather eerily similar to the show’s ending.

heaven is a place on earth* - teen/2k. dean’s pov of some of the times cas left him behind throughout the show, and one alternate ending where he finally gets to stay.

I Cleanse The Mirror - teen/20k, alternate s6. dean’s body is stolen by an ancient elemental and his soul has to hitch a ride in cas’ vessel.

an exploration of gender; angelic*** - mature/4k. *oscar isaac voice* lets get into angel gender politics!! aka cas is trans.

Zenith - explicit/33k, s9. after 9x06 an angry witch curses cas with the ability to see supernatural beings and human souls.

La cucina. - gen/3k, alt s9. dean goes wild helping a newly-human cas find out what kinds of food he likes, or the early s9 domesticity we deserved!

Dean Winchester, Cocksucker at Rest***** - teen/7k, post-finale. john and mary finally come over for dinner and john reacts to dean/cas in a rather predictable fashion. SOOOOOOOOO good omg, its so funny and a little sad and very very cathartic. part of a series that has a few other really good short fics.

The Way You Didn't Go - teen/5k, s15. coda to 15.09, dean has nightmares about the moc!cas timeline.

On Drowning - teen/28k. dean saves cas after he nearly drowns, they both try and deal with the physical/mental fallout (aka the fic where thee iconic “you only touch me when you think I’m dead or dying” originates). tw for realistic depictions of drowning/triage/misc medical information.

The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love* - mature/13k. claire has dean and cas pretend to be her gay dads for a case and they play the titular 36 question game, get mistaken for swingers, and birdwatch, among other things.

Assorted F/F stuff:

Deep Breaths* - mary/ellen, au where mary said no to azazel’s deal and let john stay dead, still becomes a milf.

Like Rebel Diamonds - krissy/claire, they become hunter gf’s on the hunt for cas to kick his ass for taking jimmy. not-so-stealth dean/cas as well.

To Ash and Bone - anna/ruby, same author as the previous fic (p much all of her stuff is good from what i recall). au where ruby is a witch and helps anna when she’s cursed.

Holy Clockwork Angels - jo/ruby, STEAMPUNK au with very cool worldbuiilding.

At Day's End - jo/anna (my fucking KINGDOM for more jo/anna content, the dean/cas parallels are allllll there), au where they are both at the camp in the endverse and gfs.

these posts - ok so not actually a fic but i’m now obsessed with this hannah/meg dynamic.

Tagelied - mary/ellen, the true story of how ellen got into hunting before angels interfered.

Hell's Bells** - meg/abaddon, alternate s8/9 where meg survives crowley’s attack with sam’s help and teams up with abaddon (who she has a sk year old crush on) to take back hell.

The Ecstasy of the Rose - anna/ruby, anna travels back in time to escape heaven and becomes a signifigant part of ruby’s old human life.

Angel Underground - anna/jo, kind of an urban fantasy au with a very intriguing premise (sadly its very short, i’d love to see more if this ‘verse).

Clover, Flame - billie/mary, billie was always the reaper that showed up to take mary after her death(s) over the years.

Drag Me To Heaven - anna/ruby, a variant on the ‘last night on earth’ thing with dean.

Come Home* - jo/anna, canon-divergent au where anna is the new waitress at the roadhouse and helps jo set up a (probably not really) haunted house for halloween.

[imaeraser]

Can I request platonic Akazaya nine headcannons

(Takes place before 20-year time jump)

Kin’emon

He’s goofy

He isn’t even trying, it’s just that he’s a little slow on the uptake

And by that, I mean very

You can be making a joke, and he’ll take it seriously. Then five minutes later start laughing hysterically

Which makes you laugh at how ridiculous he is— and that just leads to you two rolling on the ground. No longer sure about what was funny, but each time the other person laughs, you can’t help but do the same

He’s a perv, so you catch him leering at girls

So of course you tell the rest of the 9, and you guys endlessly tease him

Then he starts yelling about how he’s the leader, and how he can punish you guys

But no one takes him seriously

Even Oden joins in on the fun. That’s when Kin’emon give up trying to save his pride (he ends up making fun of himself)

He tries to act like a big brother, which most of the time doesn’t work. But when it does you wonder where all the wisdom came from

10/10 Expect nothing less from Kin’emon

Denjiro

He’s serious

But in a funny ironic way. Unlike Kin’emon he will get the joke, but not laugh and scold you for not taking work seriously

When he loosens up (aka, when Oden tells him to relax) then he might laugh at your corny jokes, but until then you can expect him to act like a mom

He may not have much of a sense of humor, but he is probably the best when it comes to advice

Tell him your woes, and he’ll have an eight-step plan to fix them

If you do something amazing on accident, he’ll have a newly gained respect for you

That’s because he’s kinda naive

So if you pull an Usopp on him, and start telling grand lies. He’ll believe you

Be careful though, that may mean he’ll give you way more than you can chew when fighting enemies

He will fanboy to you about something cool Oden did

If you don’t get as excited as he does, he will scold you

7/10 too much of a mom

Kikunojo

They are like an older sister figure

Pretty calm

Until you do something stupid, then they’re giving you the worst side-eye. They don’t even have to speak for you to understand what they’re saying

They like to dress you up in clothes that are as feminine as possible

If that’s not your style, deal with it. If it is, then you two can choose outfits for each other

You low-key get creeped out when they put on the Oni mask

Their entire vibe changes, and it’s intimidating

They wouldn’t protect you in a fight, since they trust that you can handle yourself

But if anyone picks on you outside a fight, expect hands to be thrown

I can see you two making food for the others

When Oden isn’t making oden… which is all the time

9/10 the only downside is the shade that is (occasionally) thrown

Kanjuro

You two mess around together

You guys can act out several plays and have tons of fun making the characters as outlandish as possible

He’ll draw something cute for you, and you two get to play with it for a while

If you’re extra hungry, he’ll draw out some lettuce. But when that gives you a stomach ache, he’ll just rub your back

I can see him trying to be a good wingman, but failing (I think the only good wingmen would be Kawamatsu, and Denjiro. But Denjiro would never do it)

He’ll just stick to doing your Kabuki makeup

I think he would be a good hype man

I can also see you two just drinking tea, while the rest of the group is running around, trying to find where Momonosuke ran off to

I can see you two taking a pottery class together (and probably failing)

Anything art related you and Kanjuro like to do together

I can also see you two having dance parties, and (most) of the group joins in

10/10 very fun times

Raizo

Similar to Kin’emon

But the difference is that he tries to impress you with his ninja skills

If you compliment him, he’ll act humble

But he’s beaming with pride

He uses his ninja skills to prank you

This leads to a prank war that no one is safe from

Even Oden wants to join in on the fun. Which ends up with him crushing everyone

Not very good when it comes to emotions, he ends up getting awkward

Unless you’re getting emotion about Oden because he’ll start crying too

He’ll ask you to help him pick up girls

It never works. It ends up with the girl running and screams, and you two bolting and having to explain to Oden why he got a complaint

9/10 it’s all fun and games until Oden joins in

Ashura Doji

Acts kinda like an uncle/older brother

He acts seriously a lot of the time, but when he does let loose he is fun to be around

Why can’t he be like that all the time?

He may not always have the most fun, but he is always reliable

If you have any problems, you can go to talk to him and he’ll listen. And if you ask for advice, then he’ll give the best words of wisdom

And if he thinks it’s appropriate for him to step in, he will

He smells like alcohol though, so if that bothers you he’ll just laugh

I can see him teaching you how to use a sword/fight, or give extra practice

Ashura also treats you like an errand runner

He’ll give you a few coins and ask you to buy him sake, or a snack

If you say no, he’ll get salty

8/10 stop sending people on errands

Inuarashi

Him, Neokmamushi, and Kawamatsu are the best trio

Add you in, and the castle is in shambles

In the best and most fun way, but it is still chaos

It doesn't help when Oden joins in. It only makes things crazier (see the trend?)

Then the rest of the 9 has two stop you four, and Toki scolds Oden

I can see him also giving really good advice

He’s loyal to a fault, like dude calm down. All that person did was look at you, he does not need to whip out his sword

I can also see him following you around (like a dog)

He likes to act as he hates it when you pet him, but he secretly loves it

I think that he would like to read books with you and drinking tea

Can be annoying though, since he’s clingy

9/10 not too much to complain about

Nekomamushi

I think it would take a while for him to warm up to you

Him being a cat, that makes sense

I think that when he does warm up though, you will never be able to get him off of you

You can be laying down, digesting food, and he’ll just start kneading you

If you tell him to stop, he’ll get salty, and leave you for an hour, and then come back and try to sit on your lap

Like stop, you’re way too big to be doing that

He’ll also start to randomly rub your faces together

Like Inuarashi, he will follow you everywhere

That leads to those two into fights (sometimes), but if you pet both of them they’ll shut up

He’d be good at killing bugs. So if you are disgusted/scared of them, then he is the perfect partner in (bug) homicide

If anyone is bothering you, he’ll team up with Inuarashi to beat them up

9/10 there is a lot of similarities between him and Inuarashi

Kawamatsu

He is so cute

If you give him food he will love you forever

Especially eggs, he loves the texture

So if you give him an egg, he’ll thank you and do anything you say for a day

This can be useful if you don’t want to do something yourself

I can see him getting you two matching hats and clothes

Unlike the cat and dog duo, he doesn’t feel the need to be around you all the time. Instead, he lets you come to him

He’s also really good at giving advice and learning an ear

And as I mentioned before, he is one of the best wingmen. If you have your eyes on someone, he will go up to them and start talking about all of your accomplishments. How you saved fifty kids in one day (or something)

With him as a wingman, you are guaranteed at least one date. If you screw it up, that's on you

I also can see him as a very honest person, so when you ask him if you’re idea is dumb (and it is), he’ll tell you— in the kindest way possible

10/10 I need a Kawamatsu in my life

Bonus

Oden

He’s kinda a bully, but in the nicest way possible

He just likes messing with you. I can see him beating you and the rest of the crew up at a board game when you guys were little kids

Like dude, chill

Don’t worry though, if you think he’s being an unintentional bully (since he kinda acts immature), you can just tell his wife, and he’ll stop real quick

But when it comes down to it, you guys are what means the most to him

Aka: If he sees someone or something bothering you, he will demolish it

Unless it's another one of the nine, then he’ll make a family circle to talk it out

He likes it when he sees you and the rest of the group take care of his kids. It’s like seeing his kids, take care of his kids

Then his eyes start stinging and welling up with tears

But if you ask him, he’ll tell you that he is not crying

He’s kinda like a dad, but also like a little brother too

10/10 just stop beating everyone at uno

[lumelii]

PANDA ~|~ NANAMI x FEM!READER

Summary: Nanami and Yuuji stop into the local bakery. Nanami finds something he wants that’s off the menu.

Content warning: fluff, little bit of pining, child-parent relations, singledad!Nanami

Note: thanks again to Moni for beta-reading 🥰

word count: 1.6k

------------------------------------------------------

“Daddy! Look!”

It was a bakery they had passed multiple times on the way home, living just next door to it. It was small, tucked into one half of the ground floor of the low building it occupied, sharing a wall with a pharmacy. It served reasonably priced pastries and sandwiches, as well as some of the best coffee in Tokyo. Nanami usually took Yuuji there once or twice a month and let him pick what he wanted for breakfast.

The window display was almost always the same, Nanami would have missed the slight change as he tried to juggle the various bags they had accumulated from their early Saturday morning errands if his young son hadn’t pointed it out. He looked over to see the small bag of fruit he had asked Yuuji to carry on the sidewalk, a lone apple rolling away while his son stood on his tiptoes, his nose practically pressed to the glass. 

Instead of the standard fare on the very top shelf, there was a row of buns in the shapes of various animals, with different fillings for each shape written neatly on cards next to each. Nanami had to admire the work, they were incredibly detailed. 

“It’s a panda!” Yuuji looked back at Nanami and pointed at the aforementioned bun in the middle. “Can we get one?”

Nanami caught himself before denying Yuuji outright. He had been especially good today when they were running their errands, not complaining once as his father dragged him through town and entertaining himself in the various shops without getting into trouble. And they could go to the park later so Yuuji could run off his energy. A little sugar wouldn’t kill him.

“Sure. Go pick up your bag, though.” He pointed to the forgotten paper bag.

Yuuji quickly ran to pick up the bag (as well as the apple, adding it back to the bag before Nanami could tell him no), and grabbed his father’s hand to all but pull him into the bakery. It wasn’t as crowded as Nanami would have thought for a Saturday morning, something for which he was grateful. When there was a crowd, Yuuji liked to use people as obstacles and run around and through them as fast as he could. Only the obstacles moved, and he usually ended up on his butt more times than he would have liked.

They were able to go straight to an empty table to drop off their shopping before moving to the counter, and after a few seconds, one of the workers packaging cookies turned around, and Nanami’s breath caught in his throat.

It wasn’t like the bakery didn’t have pretty women working there-there were several, ones who would shamelessly flirt and try to butter up Yuuji as a means to get closer to his father, but Nanami didn’t indulge or even notice them. He was polite, got what he needed, then left. He never played into whatever fantasies the cashier of the month decided to dream up. 

However, this time, it was hard to remind himself of that conviction when easily the prettiest worker he had ever seen there walked up to the register and smiled at him. Was she new? She had to be new, he’d never seen her before. He would have remembered seeing someone like you. 

“Hi, welcome in.” You greeted and leaned against the counter. “What can I get for you?”

“Panda!” Yuuji yelled, his nose peeking over the top of the counter as he looked at you. 

“Yuuji.” Nanami scolded and picked him up so he could actually see you. “Ask politely, son.”

Yuuji smiled at him then turned to smile at you. “Can I please have a panda bun please?”

You smiled and nodded. “Of course, sir.” You replied, making him giggle. Your smile widened and you finally looked at Nanami. “And for you?”

“I’ll just have a black coffee.” Nanami didn’t think he could focus on eating without choking if you were going to be walking around the bakery.

“Me too!”

“He’ll have a hot chocolate.”

“I want what you’re having.” Yuuji pouted. Nanami sighed and turned back to the counter.

“Make mine a hot chocolate too.”

You took his money and handed him a number for the table. “Give me just a second, I’ll bring everything to your table. Make yourself at home.”

Nanami nodded and lead Yuuji away from the big display case by the register back to their table, helping him out of his heavy winter coat when he was seated safely. He tried his best to listen to his son as he talked about a dog they had seen earlier today during their shopping trip, but he was finding it very hard to focus.

His eyes kept wandering back behind the counter, watching as you made their drinks and talked with the other workers, laughing along with them at a joke someone had said. He’d never felt this kind of attraction toward another person. It was irrational. He didn’t know you. Yet he still felt that draw.

There had been other women before Yuuji had come into his life, even a few dalliances on nights when Gojou would take him out and Toji would stay home to watch the kids, just to satisfy that primal need. There was even a girlfriend at one point. But Yuuji had declared he didn’t like her after several months, and that was enough for Nanami to end the relationship. There was no point in pursuing a woman who couldn’t to get along with his son.

So why was it now, after finding contentment in being alone for so long, that all he wanted to do was go up and ask you, a complete stranger, on a date?

“You boys are lucky.” Nanami looked up and saw you were now standing next to their table, placing their to-go cups in front of them as well as Yuuji’s panda bun. “This was the second to last one.”

“Do you normally sell out quickly on the animals?” He heard himself asking, like the back of his neck wasn’t on fire right now.

“We only just started making them this week, but for the most part, yes.” You straightened from setting the food down and hugged the tray to your chest. “The red bean panda usually sells first. I suppose people are more used to the flavor.”

“What’s your name?” Yuuji asked suddenly, taking a big bite out of the head of his panda.

“I’m Y/N.” You smiled at the young boy. “What’s yours?”

Thankfully, Yuuji took the time to actually swallow his food before speaking, which was uncharacteristic of him. “My name is Yuuji.” His son said proudly. “I’m five.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Yuuji.” Your eyes turned to Nanami expectantly. “And your name?”

“His name is Dad.” Yuuji told her before Nanami could reply. She laughed, and he thought he hadn’t heard anything quite so wonderful today.

“And is that your first or last name?”

“Our last name is Nanami.” Yuuji answered again, cutting off his father as he opened his mouth to speak. “We live in the building next door.”

“Really? So I do. I just moved in. We’re neighbors.”

“Can I come visit you?” Yuuji asked excitedly.

“Yuuji, let’s not take up any more of the lady’s time.” Nanami interjected, noticing another customer had walked in, but also slightly embarrassed at his son’s oversharing.

“You’re fine, don’t worry. We already had our big morning rush.” You leaned in closer so the young boy wouldn’t hear what you were saying. “I put a shot of espresso in your cup. It should help if you need the caffeine.”

Nanami merely stared back when you pulled back and smiled again. He didn’t know how to respond to this kindness from a total stranger. You didn’t even know him, yet you spoke and cared as if you had been acquainted for a lifetime.

“Y/N!” A voice from the kitchen yelled before Nanami could open his mouth to thank you properly. “We’re almost out of spritz cookies!”

“Coming!” You yelled back and bowed slightly to Nanami. “It was nice to meet you, Dad-san.”

You were gone before he could reply. “It’s Kento.” He murmured to himself. However, Yuuji heard him and fixed him with a frown.

“Your name is Dad.” Yuuji said resolutely.

“I had a name before you came along.”

“And now it’s Dad.”

They sat quietly finishing their drinks, Yuuji swinging his legs happily as he finished his bun and watched the people coming and going in the bakery with wide, curious eyes. Nanami tried hard not to stare at you behind the counter as you worked, but his eyes kept drifting your direction of their own volition. He’d never felt this kind of pull before. He had to be imagining it. He was being irrational.

His line of vision as he watched the door to the kitchen, waiting for you to come out again after disappearing several minutes ago, was blocked when another server came up and set a brown bag with the bakery’s logo on the table. Nanami immediately picked it up and tried to hand it back.

“We didn’t order this.” He told the teenage boy.

“They’re on the house,” was all the boy said before going back behind the counter.

Nanami looked behind the counter and saw you had appeared again, now watching them. When he caught your eye, you smiled widely and gave him a small thumbs up. Looking inside the bag, there was a pair of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, along with the last panda bun. When he turned the bag to put it in with one of the larger shopping bags from their trip, the black ink of a marker caught his eye. Pulling the bag back out, he noticed the same neat handwriting from the display case.

‘Thanks for coming in, neighbor ^_^’

He was truly fucked.

tags: @oikawaandkuroostan (let me know if you want to get added to my tag list-either for this story or any of my writing!)

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

I would love to see Harry jealous because his wife give a man ( Kindergarten teacher ) a compliment that he deals really well with Stevie.

this got kind of long oops, hope you like it :)

it's kind of cute

warnings: none

word count: 2k

“Time to go, Stevie!” You called, adjusting your coat in the mirror by the door. “Come get your shoes!”

You heard her feet pattering on the hall floor before Harry yelled, jumping out at her and scooping her up. She screamed in delight, laughing as he hoisted her onto his shoulders.

“Look at me!” She yelled, holding her arms out to her sides. “I’m so tall!”

“You are,” you laughed. “Is my tall girl ready to go?”

“I think our tall girl needs some shoes first,” Harry said, lifting her down. “The pink ones or the yellow ones?”

She thought intently before picking up the yellow shoes. She beamed when she got them on the right feet on the first try.

“Good job!” Harry said, reaching down to high-five her. Shoes were a tricky thing to learn. There had been a lot of struggling, but she was finally getting the hang of it.

She smiled, jumping up from the floor. Harry held her coat, helping her slip her arms into the sleeves.

“Let’s go! Come on, mom,” She said, bouncing on her feet. “Go faster!”

“Yeah, mum, hurry up,” Harry said jokingly. You shot him a look, opening the door so Stevie could run to the car.

Harry put his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the car.

“She’s getting so big,” he commented. “Why can’t she just stay our little baby?”

“Very unfortunate,” you sighed. You made sure Stevie was settled before getting in and buckling your own seatbelt. Harry got in the driver’s seat, starting the car.

“I’m in the mood for some Moana,” he said, handing you his phone before he pulled out of the driveway. “What do you think, Stevie?”

“Moana!” She yelled, eyes lighting up.

You shared a smile with Harry as she began belting out the lyrics.

“I wonder where she got her singing voice?”

“No idea,” he laughed.

-----

He pulled into the school parking lot, stopping the music to grandly announce, “We’re here!”

Stevie gasped in excitement, already fidgeting with her seatbelt. Harry opened her door for her, holding her hand so she could jump down. You took her other hand, swinging her arms between you as you walked toward the school.

“Alright, Stevie, where are we going?” You asked, even though you knew where her classroom was.

“Yeah, we don’t know where it is, you have to help us!” Harry said excitedly. “Lead the way, princess!”

Stevie let go of your hands as she marched down the hall.

“Look at her, so grown up,” he said sadly, taking your now empty hand in his.

“I know, she’s practically an adult. Oh, she’s going to be in middle school soon, and then high school, and then college, and then she’ll be gone,” you said, getting emotional already.

“Wait, wait, we can’t get ahead of ourselves yet, this is a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, we have a few years.”

“Right, you’re right,” you smiled.

“Here it is!” Stevie announced, pointing at the door, which was decorated to look like a box of crayons.

“Oh, how cute!” You said, noting that each crayon was labeled with a student’s name. “Stevie, you’re the yellow one! It matches your shoes!”

“I know!” She said excitedly. “That’s why I wore them!”

“Very smart, Stevie. Very fashionable,” Harry said, ruffling her hair.

He opened the door, allowed both of you to walk in ahead of him.

“Hello! Hi Stevie, it’s good to see you!” Her teacher said, waving you over to his desk.

“Hi Mr. Jeffery!” She said, running over to him. “Is it here?”

“Of course it is! It’s right over there on the drying rack, if you want to show your mom and dad,” he said, pointing across the room.

She ran in the direction he pointed. When she came back, she was carrying a painting of a butterfly.

“Did you make that?” Harry asked, crouching down to inspect her artwork. “Wow, this is amazing, love! We’ll put this on the fridge so everyone can see it,” he promised, smiling.

“Yes, Stevie loves our art projects, don’t you?” Mr. Jeffery asked, smiling when she nodded enthusiastically.

“I have to talk to your mom and dad for a few minutes, Stevie. What would you like to do while we talk?”

“Color!” She said, shoving the butterfly painting into Harry’s arms.

“Alright, do you remember where the crayons are?”

“Yes I do!” She ran over to the art section, busying herself immediately.

“Yes, she’s very into art,” You said, smiling as you and Harry settled into the chairs behind Mr. Jeffery’s desk.

“I’ve noticed! She’s taken a particular interest in painting. Does she do a lot of that at home?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry laughed. “Y/N isn’t so happy with that, though, she’s ruined quite a few shirts.”

“We try to steer her towards more... dry activities,” you said, smiling.

“Well, that’s understandable,” Mr. Jeffery laughed, clicking around on his computer. “So, today I just want to talk about her progress. As you probably know, she does extremely well in several areas. She can do some sight reading, which is not something we see very often at this age. She is also doing very well with her numbers, colors, and shapes.”

Harry beamed as Mr. Jeffery laid out how well Stevie was doing. Of course, he already knew she was the most amazing child in the world, but it was nice to have outside validation.

“That’s great, we tried to expose her to as much reading as we could, we really wanted her to be prepared,” you said.

“You did an excellent job,” he smiled, looking at you.

Harry didn’t like this, even though he knew it was this man’s job to reassure and praise parents. He just didn’t like the way he looked at you. He was smiling a little too much.

“Yes, we did,” Harry said, leaning a little closer to you. He looked at the teacher with a face that was just a little less than friendly.

Mr. Jeffery cleared his throat, turning back to his computer.

“As for her social skills, she is also doing very well there. Aside from the normal kindergarten spats, she has no issues getting along with the other children. She communicates very well with the other teachers and myself. We really don’t have any problems,” he smiled again, this time making sure not to look at you for too long.

“Looks like we did a good job,” you beamed, nudging Harry. His intimidating face dropped and he smiled as he took your hand.

“Look at us go,” he said, looking across the room to where Stevie was still coloring.

“You’re very good with her,” you said, following his gaze. “I know she can be a handful sometimes,” you laughed, turning slightly to Mr. Jeffery.

Harry’s jaw tightened when he saw your face. He knew you were smiling from looking at Stevie, but he still didn’t like how happy Mr. Jeffery looked. He squeezed your hand a little tighter, causing you to shoot him a confused look. He kept his eyes fixed on Stevie, willing himself to stay calm. Y/N hasn’t done anything wrong, he reminded himself.

“No, she’s usually very well behaved,” he said, flipping through his notes. “Again, we’ve had very few problems.”

“I’m glad to hear,” you said, running your other hand up and down Harry’s forearm.

“Well, that’s all I have for you today, unless you have any other questions?” He asked, looking you and Harry. You looked at him, both shaking your heads at the same time.

“I think we’re good,” you said, turning back to him with a smile.

“Alright, well it was good to see you today,” Mr. Jeffery said, standing to shake hands with you. Harry watched intently, not blinking until the man pulled away from you. When he reached for him, Harry made sure to squeeze a little tighter than necessary. Not too hard. Just enough to make him nervous.

“If you have any more questions, please feel free to contact me,” he said, smiling tightly.

“Yes, we’ll do that,” Harry said, not breaking eye contact. Finally, Mr. Jeffery stepped away to get Stevie. Harry moved his arm to rest over your shoulders again, smiling at Stevie when she skipped over.

“Did you make us a pretty drawing?” He asked, removing his arm to bend down. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he beamed. “Another one for the fridge, I think!”

Stevie giggled, taking your hand as she turned to wave at her teacher.

“Bye Mr. Jeffery! See you later,” she said, completely unaware of how tense Harry was behind her.

Harry placed his hand on your back, shepherding you both out of the room. Once the door was closed, you stepped away to look at him.

“Are you alright?” You asked, concerned at how tight his face was. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Harry shook his head, flicking his eyes towards Stevie, trying to communicate not now.

You frowned, but silently agreed, taking his hand as you walked down the hall.

Harry was quiet the entire ride home. He didn’t sing along to the Disney music, even when Stevie yelled out “everybody!” before the big chorus. This was concerning. He usually sang even when Stevie didn’t want him to, and he could normally never resist her cheering him on. Something was definitely wrong, but you could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right now.

It couldn’t be that bad, though, because he was still holding your hand like he had been since you left Mr. Jeffery’s room. He had only let go of you when you had to get in the car.

Once you got home, Stevie ran off to her room, yelling something about “a tea party with Mr. Snuffles!”

“Harry?” You asked gently, approaching your husband. His back was facing you and his hands were braced against the counter. “Harry, really, what happened? Did I do something?”

“No,” he turned around quickly. “No, I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for you. You wrapped your arms around him, listening to his deep breathing as he held you.

“Ok, then what’s the problem? You looked so mad when we were talking to Mr. Jeffery,” you said. “What?” You asked again when felt him tense up at your words.

“Nothing, it’s just- it’s stupid,” he said, shaking his head.

“Harry, nothing that upsets you this much is stupid.”

“It’s just- ugh,” he groaned, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck. “I just hated how he looked at you.”

“You- what?” You said, pulling back. He looked at you, embarrassed.

“I told you it’s stupid,” he said, blushing. “I just didn’t like how you were talking to him, saying how good he was with Stevie, and how happy he looked. I don’t know, it’s dumb,” he mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Hey, come on,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “I don’t think it’s dumb.”

“No?” He asked, looking at you again.

“No, it’s not,” you said, smiling. “It’s kind of cute.”

“It’s not cute,” he said grumpily. “I feel like a child.”

“You’re not a child,” you promised, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Maybe a little immature, but-“

“You’re so mean!” He exclaimed, laughing. “I’m so nice to you, and you repay me how? By hurting my feelings.”

“I’m sorry,” you smiled, kissing his cheek again.

“I’ll forgive you,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “But only if you give me a kiss.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

[nevermindirah]

part 3, "Kid": How every character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood relates to the main character, Nile Freeman

Stop writing people calling Nile "kid" 2k4ever

Andy calls Nile a baby one time, minutes after first dreaming of her. Andy then calls Nile "kid" three times, all to her face, all in the first few hours of their acquaintance. Booker calls Nile "kid" once, on the porch outside the bar. That's it. The context for these lines is super interesting, and calling Nile "kid" in fic doesn’t make any sense without the original context.

When Andy, Joe, Nicky, and Booker wake up from first dreaming of Nile, Joe and Nicky immediately start sharing facts they noticed, and Joe starts sketching. Booker is in his feelings but he contributes a few things to the saying-facts-out-loud rally.

Andy is 100% in her feelings. She starts the conversation with "No, not another one." Then once the boys have gathered a bunch of facts and Booker says "I felt her die" Andy comes in with this:

Andy: [stares at nothing straight ahead, voice is remote, detached.] She’s a Marine. [Joe and Nicky look up together.] Combat. Or near combat duty. Afghanistan. [Shakes her head slowly, wearily.] It’s been over two hundred years. [Whispers, anguished, buries head in hands.] Why now?

Got it. Joe and Nicky are the competent soldiers, Booker is the semi-competent drunk, Andy is the boss. Andy is the fucking depressed boss. It's in this context that Andy, having analyzed the information her direct reports just gave her, made the determination that Nile is a Marine in Afghanistan, and let her team have a brief back-and-forth about whether to change their plan to go retrieve the new one before announcing the decision that is ultimately hers to make, refers to Nile as a baby.

Andy: Get to France. Use the Charlie safe house. I’ll meet you there. [Joe examines his sketch, blows pencil-dust off it. She stares at Booker.] Find Copley. [Joe tears out the page and hands her the sketch. Andy stares at it.] Jesus. She’s just a baby.

Andy's metric fuckton of I AM BEYOND DONE just leaps off the page/screen. Keep that existential exhaustion in mind as we see her early interactions with Nile.

Nile: [stands, panting, regards Andy suspiciously.] Who are you? Andy: I lead a group of immortals. An army, I guess. Soldiers. Fighters like you. [softer tone.] Look... [Andy steps toward her; Nile steps back.] You’ve got questions, kid. I get it. [tiny smile, small nod.] You want answers? Get back in the car.

Andy: [lightly] And I was the one who cut your throat. Right? [stares at Nile, who stares back, then looks away; she has no answer for that.] Listen, kid. You already believe in... [points upward, follows it with her eyes.] You should just keep following that illogic. [Pulls her jacket over her shoulders as a blanket, turns on her right side, back to Nile, lies on the pile of duffel-bags like a reclining chair.] You’re already on board with the supernatural. [Speaks with eyes already closed; it makes no difference to her.] If I were you, I’d get some sleep.

[Nile stands slowly, glaring at Andy, sets her body as she prepares to continue the fight.] Andy: You really want to do this, kid? [Andy’s eyes are bright, her expression relaxed but anticipating; she looks like she thinks this will be fun.]

Andy is looking at this retrieval mission as something that must be done, but quickly and with as little disruption as possible to her team's ongoing mission to find Copley and protect themselves from exposure. And then here comes Nile Freeman, competent as hell, taking no shit, questioning everything, stabbing her and escaping a moving vehicle and just fucking fighting her at every turn.

"Jfc kid will you just get in the goddamn car" feels pretty reasonable in that context, yeah? At least from Andy's perspective. From Nile's, you're fucking right you're gonna ask some goddamn questions before getting on a drug-smuggling plane with someone who just shot you in the head.

It's worth noting that Andy doesn't precisely say "jfc kid will you just get in the goddamn car" — she says "I need you to get back in the car please." She says "can you please not do that again" when Nile fucking stabs her. She's exhausted and frustrated and just trying to get through this and back to her main mission, and from what we see of her so far she's generally gruff as a person, but she's not an asshole, and she’s really showing Nile some respect here, all things considered. I mean, imagine being this polite when someone stabs you. This is a tired adult trying to get another tired adult on board with a sensible plan.

Andy: Argh! [Andy grabs Nile’s knife hand.] Fuck! [throws it violently aside, forcing Nile back a step. With the knife still in her, Andy sighs deeply and looks at Nile. Nile recovers her balance and stares that Andy is hardly reacting to having a knife in her.] Can you please [grabs the knife with left hand, yanks it out] not do that again? [throws the knife on the ground.]

Once they fight on the plane, Andy never calls her kid again. Andy is already starting to regain some of the energy her long life has worn away from her after just 10 minutes on screen with Nile. Andy went into this retrieval determined to be someone Nile can rely on, and that still stands, but by the time they’re in France she’s realizing she’ll come to be able to rely on Nile too. She introduces her to the boys as Nile and that's that.

The only other time we hear the word "kid" in the entire movie is near the end, outside the bar with Booker.

Nile: Yeah. [takes a breath.] Talked to Copley. Said he could fix it. Make it look like I was killed in action. [nods gently to herself] My family will mourn, but, uh... [tiny shrug, head-shake.] ...they’ll be able to move on. It’s just like what we did with my dad. [sighs. Turns to look out over the water. Voice wavers.] I just really want to hear my mom’s voice one more time. Booker: [looks down, pauses, turns to lean next to Nile.] You’re a good kid, Nile. [looks at her, speaks earnestly.] You’re gonna be great for the team.

Sébastien le Livre, whose greatest tragedy is that his children disbelieved and rejected his love for them, would be very moved by Nile's concern and love for her mother. "You're a good kid, Nile," in the sense that she's honoring her parent in a way he, a bereaved parent, appreciates.

There's also the fun shippy reading that he's preemptively friend-zoning her because there's about to be several lifetimes between him and spending any more time with this woman he was having an obvious "oh no she's hot" reaction to over dinner in Goussainville, but I, a feral BoN shipper, like the first reading even better.

But the point is, calling Nile "kid" is an element of the movie that says a lot about the characters using that word. When it gets repeated in fanfiction, it says something about the author.

If you're reading this and reflecting "oh shit I wrote the team calling Nile kid without thinking about it at all beneath the surface" I have a really cool suggestion for you: just edit it. Or at least consider not doing it again. We all make mistakes. We all run with things that we pick up in canon or see in other people's fic that seem funny and harmless, and once we think about those things more deeply we might find that actually it's kinda fucked up, or not what canon was trying to say, or fine on the surface but not fine if it becomes The One True Fanon. Having characters who are either white, men, or both call the adult protagonist who's a young Black woman "kid" all the time carries a weight to it. Please let's let that weight fall off Nile's fully-grown shoulders.

Next up, orders, suggestions, assistance, and other flavors of mentoring Nile and/or telling her what to do. Credit and appreciation to StarWatcher for transcribing the movie here on AO3, all my line quotes are pulled from there.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Fourteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: my quickest AND longest update to date?? who am i??

merry christmas for real this time. thank you sm for reading i never voice my appreciation for yall but it’s there i swear

tw: abuse mention

***

Cassian’s plan to grab his stuff and get the hell back home is intercepted by Feyre, who pulls him aside and proceeds to spill everything about her fight with Nesta to him.

His heart hurts for Feyre—he of all people knows what it’s like to feel unwanted by your biological family. But what did she really think would happen? Their entire friend group is about placing chosen bonds over blood bonds. Feyre can’t be that offended if Nesta prefers the company of her friends over her little sisters. And trying to talk to Nesta about her therapy? Jesus.

But Cassian has a feeling it’ll take both Feyre and Elain a long spelling out of things before they can begin to understand Nesta the way he does, and he doesn’t have time for that right now. He’s too distracted to even provide the comfort Feyre came to him for.

Somehow, he makes up an excuse and detaches himself from the conversation, leaving to find his coat and keys. Azriel spies him on the way to the door and gives him a look.

“Not a fucking word,” Cassian growls as he passes. Everyone else is engrossed in a game of poker and getting progressively more drunk. Feyre now sits on Rhys’s lap, once again content. Azriel only smirks but shakes his head, letting Cassian slip out of the penthouse unnoticed.

He takes the long way home, needing the night air and flashing headlights to clear his head. Once he gets off the freeway leading to town, though, he picks up his phone and calls Nesta.

She doesn’t pick up.

On the fourth call that goes unanswered, Cassian gives up. Fine. She doesn’t want to talk to him tonight. But still he finds himself driving past her neighborhood, once, twice, as if he’s listless without being able to talk to her. He has too many feelings he needs to get off his chest, and she’s the first person he always goes to for those things.

Try to consider her feelings.

It’s that thought that forces him to turn around and drive back to the cabin. They’ll both feel better in the morning, anyway. He can find her and talk as soon as the day starts.

It’s past midnight when he finally pulls up to the driveway, and still he’s disappointed to not see Nesta’s car there. Still he’s disappointed to enter an empty cabin.

The Christmas tree they decorated together sits unlit in the corner of the living room, their presents untouched under the fir leaves. Without turning the lights on, Cassian trudges upstairs and heads straight to bed.

Any sleep he finds is short and restless. His eyes shut sometime around three in the morning, and when they next open, early dawn light is streaming in through the windows. Snow flurries gently against the glass.

Giving up on the prospect of genuine rest, Cassian accepts that he’ll have to seek out Nesta with dark circles and a half-functioning brain today.

He already has a list in his mind as he heads downstairs: get coffee and breakfast for Nesta, get dressed, be at her door by the time she wakes at nine.

Then he reaches the foot of the stairs, and realizes none of that is necessary.

Straight out of his dreams, Nesta is sitting cross-legged on the ground before the coffee table, inspecting a puzzle piece in the cutest sweater he’s ever seen.

Cassian freezes with his hand on the banister, wondering if he’s still asleep. He watches her bite her lip intently, trying to fit the puzzle piece into a corner of the puzzle. It doesn’t fit.

“Fuck,” she swears softly, tossing the piece aside. Cassian clears his throat.

Nesta’s head shoots up, her focus broken. “You’re awake.”

“You’re in my house,” he says dumbly.

“That’s what the key you gave me is for, isn’t it?”

Hesitantly, like he’s approaching a wounded bear, Cassian walks farther into the living room. “Are you—I mean, are we…?”

“Use your words, baby.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. She doesn’t seem upset. There’s so much he wants to ask her: did she sleep well? Where did she get her Christmas sweater from, and does it mean she’s secretly been a fan of Christmas all along? Does she want hot chocolate or coffee with her breakfast?

“How was your night?” he settles on. He moves to sit across from her at the coffee table.

“Find where this goes,” Nesta demands, handing him a new puzzle piece and pointing to their nearly finished puzzle.

Cassian obeys, and Nesta talks while he works. “I was pretty pissed when I got home last night,” she says. “I wanted to tell you all about this stupid fight I had with my boyfriend, and how I knew he was right but I was still furious at him, until I remembered that you were my boyfriend, and I didn’t want to see you.”

Cassian pretends to focus on the puzzle, letting Nesta get her words out.

“So Gwyn called to say thank you for her present—you were right, by the way, she loves it—and then we ended up talking the whole night, and I told her everything about my sisters and,” she waves a hand, “the other shit.

“And at one point I realized that I was telling her the stuff I needed to be telling you. So I came here as soon as I hung up with Gwyn.”

Cassian looks up. “When was that?”

Nesta shrugs. “Five in the morning?”

“Nesta,” he scolds. “You’ll fuck up your sleep cycle.”

“Will you let me get to my point, damn it?”

Cassian shuts up and sits back.

Nesta is staring down at the puzzle, fiddling with her fingernails. Carefully selecting her next words like an attorney would. “I wanted to apologize for—the things I said last night. I was projecting my insecurities onto you, and I’m sure you already know it, but that doesn’t make it okay.” She looks up, face serious. “My sisters and I bring out the worst in each other. We always have. But I let that affect how I treated you when you had nothing to do with it.”

“But you were right.” Cassian can’t stay quiet anymore. “I mean, a lot of what you said was wrong, but at the heart of your point you were right.” It took Cassian all night to sift through what Nesta had said, to separate the truth from the meaningless words of hurt. He finally sees it now.

“I should have watched out for you last night, even if I couldn’t claim you as my girlfriend. I know how you are in new environments with new people and I left you to the wolves.” The wolves are his most trusted friends, sure, but they aren’t Nesta’s. And he was an idiot to forget it.

Nesta fixes another puzzle piece into place, and for the first time this morning, true regret passes over her face. “I didn’t enjoy hurting you. I hated every second of it while I was doing it. So as long as you know I didn’t mean any of it, I’ll be fine.”

We were good distractions for each other in your lonely little cabin, but deep down you know we wouldn’t last a day in the real world.

You were sad and desperate for acknowledgement when we first met, and you’re the same way now.

Cassian nods once. “I know,” he says softly. “You could never lie to me.” Even if some of her words had struck a little truer than they should have. Cassian realizes bitterly it’s because her insecurities are the same as his.

“So are you going to tell me about what the real problem was yesterday?” He dares to broach the elephant in the room.

Nesta stiffens, refocusing on the puzzle to avoid his gaze. “I already told you,” she says. “My sisters and I bring out the worst in each other.”

“There’s more to it than that, though.” When Nesta doesn’t respond, he adds, “Feyre told me her side of the story. It probably wasn’t all of it, but if it makes you feel better, I agreed with you.”

Nesta snorts derisively. “She was being unreasonable, but I made it worse. You know that, don’t you?” She raises a brow. “You know how I am.”

Cassian remembers their screaming match from the time he tried to get her a doctor’s appointment, and oddly enough, smiles. “I know you hate it,” he says, “and I know it’s frustrating as hell, but people stop taking your arguments seriously when you start flinging insults. It probably isn’t fair, but you’ve been in a courtroom. You know how it works.”

Nesta grimaces. “Believe me, the future lawyer in me is not proud of how I held up in last night’s fight.”

“Right there.” Cassian slides a section of green pieces over to himself and fits them into place, completing the rolling hills of the landscape scene. There’s only a handful of pieces left, all in the sky area. He waits for Nesta to be ready to speak.

After several moments of working in silence, she says, “My sisters have never really accepted me the way I am. I used to think Elain did back when we were kids, but then I stopped prioritizing her and she stopped understanding.”

Cassian knows Elain is pissed that her once-closest sister no longer cares to talk to her. But what he wants to know is why Nesta stopped answering her calls. Why she pulled away and went into isolation, and wouldn’t come out for anyone until a few short months ago.

Nesta clears her throat. “I was not a well-adjusted kid. I’m not a well-adjusted adult, either, but—I was even worse in my youth. I had a deadbeat dad, who I hated while my sisters adored him. I hated the life we had to live because of him, and I let that hate seep everywhere. Into everything and everyone else.” She blows out a breath and shakes her head. “There was no place closer to hell than that fucking one-bedroom apartment. I hated the person I was in that place—like I had no control over my emotions, my tantrums, my entire self. I was stuck in this childlike state of rage and I couldn’t move on, couldn’t grow up.

“No one could figure out what was wrong with me, so I had to take care of my issues myself. I read more books, I went out more often, I always had headphones in—I learned how to escape. I learned how to limit the destruction. Once I did that, I could care for Elain more openly. I could have civil conversations with Feyre, too. That’s where we went wrong, I think. I gave Feyre hope that I could be a better person, and once she latched onto it, she refused to let go.” Nesta picks at the sleeves of her knit sweater. “She never understood that I was cold and removed just because I was. She always had this belief that deep down, I secretly had a heart of gold and a shit ton of love to give. I never bothered telling her she was wrong, so her expectations of me grew. And so did Elain’s. And then I graduated high school.” She shrugs.

Cassian frowns. “That’s when you left your family and moved here?”

She nods. “The distance helped. For a short time, I thought I was free. No responsibilities or people to answer to. But then I met Tomas—my ex—and Feyre and Elain followed me to Colorado not long after my dad died. And even then I stayed optimistic, because most people would be lucky to have their sisters and boyfriend all in the same place. I thought I could finally have all the relationships a normal person my age was supposed to have if I just put in the effort.” She meets Cassian’s eyes. “I never told you much about Tomas, did I?”

His stomach sinks, but he shakes his head.

“It was not a fun first love. But the only reason I didn’t tell you about it earlier was because I didn’t know how to describe it myself.” She rubs her palms down her thighs, but it isn’t enough to hide their tremble.

“I know what to call it now,” Nesta says. “It was abusive.”

Cassian says nothing. He can’t. But his hands curl into hard fists under the coffee table.

“Lana made me work up to using that word.” She rolls her eyes, like the whole thing annoys and embarrasses her. “He was abusive: physically, verbally, emotionally. I’m not going to go into the details or anything, but it’s what was happening to me during those college years that my sisters needed me to be there for them.”

Cassian would never in a thousand years ask Nesta for information she isn’t ready to give, but in that moment he’s overwhelmed with the need to know everything—every little thing that’s ever been done to her, so he can draw up a list and exact calculated revenge for all of it. His voice is rough against the lump in his throat, out of fury or despair he doesn’t know. “Nesta…”

“I promise I’m almost done.” She holds up a hand.

Take your time. Tell me everything.

“This isn’t about him,” Nesta says. “This is about my sisters. Because even if I hadn’t been stupid enough to let that man waste almost four years of my life, I would have ended up in the same place with Feyre and Elain. They’d still be disappointed when they realized I couldn’t be what they wanted me to be.” She wraps her arms around herself in a hug, and Cassian wishes he’d sat beside her so those could be his arms.

She shakes her head. “I did my best so I wouldn’t be cooped up with them, wouldn’t be lashing out at them… and it still wasn’t enough. They wanted me to be nice, friendly, talkative. So I tried doing that too, even though I hated it. But around the same time things with Tomas started to get unbearable, Feyre found Rhysand and you guys. So now I had to hang out with my sister while she had a group of strangers constantly surrounding her, and go back home to a man who hated me at the end of the day.” She looks up at Cassian then, and her blue-gray gaze hits him with the force of a truck. “As soon as Feyre moved away to Velaris, I saw my way out. I finally broke up with Tomas. I gave up on all my relationships and I let go, and I don’t care if you or anyone else thinks it’s pathetic, or the bare minimum. It’s all I had to give.”

Cassian swallows roughly, unable to find his words. “It’s not pathetic, Nesta,” he finally says. “There’s nothing pathetic about doing what doesn’t come easily to you.”

There’s a million other things he needs to say to her, to make sure that she knows she isn’t stupid, or embarrassing, or not enough. But it all floats right out of his head when she heaves a big, dramatic sigh, as if a great weight has been lifted off her chest. As if Cassian’s measly words were all she needed to hear to feel alright.

She snatches up the final remaining puzzle piece and clicks it into place. “And we’re done,” she declares.

Cassian looks down at the table between them, which is now fully lit by the beaming morning sun outside. His eyes land on an empty space near the corner of the landscape, and his face falls. “There’s a piece missing,” he says.

“No way, where?” Nesta leans closer.

Cassian is already on his hands and knees, checking under and around the table for the missing piece.

“This is all your fault,” Nesta is saying above him. “You bumped into the table that time we were making out and all those pieces went flying.”

“Well, how fucking far could it have gone? Help me find it.” He’s serious now, searching the floor with intent. They can’t leave the puzzle unfinished. It was the only thing he could find in his garage all those months ago that could distract Nesta from anticipating her MRI results. And after the diagnosis, it had been a way to lift her mood, to give the two of them an excuse to spend every evening together—

“Sweetheart, it’s just a puzzle.”

Cassian sits up straight at that. “Just a puzzle?” He narrows his eyes at her.

“Well, it’s either that or an overextended metaphor for our relationship—are you crying?”

“No.” He blinks quickly. If there’s wetness there, he doesn’t know how Nesta glimpsed it.

He’s had a hard twelve hours. Nesta even more so. “I just feel really bad, about last night and everything else.” Because even if she acts like what she just spilled to him isn’t a big deal, he’ll never forget it.

He looks up to find Nesta laughing. Hand-over-her-mouth cackling. Before he can ask what’s wrong with her, she’s climbing up onto the coffee table, breaking up the puzzle and sending pieces scattering as she crawls across it. “Nesta—” he starts to protest.

She drops into his lap, winding her arms and legs around his powerful body. And she leans in and kisses him, long and deep and sweet. His hands settle into the curve of her hips, where they’ve always fit perfectly.

She breaks the kiss to fit her palm to his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she says. She never says that. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.” Her lips quirk up teasingly, but real guilt from the night before lingers in her eyes. Cassian realizes in that moment that Nesta could never hurt anybody more than she hurts herself.

“Don’t waste your apologies on me.” He nudges her nose with his. “Save them for people who’ll actually need to hear them.”

A real smile starts to bloom on her face. “I’ll try.”

Pride and love take his breath away, but he manages to say, “Thank you. For sharing so much of yourself with me.”

She makes an embarrassed noise and waves him off, but emotion shines in her eyes. Just to spare her, Cassian changes the subject. “Now what in the world are you wearing?”

She glances down at herself, frowning. “You don’t like it?”

“I love it.” The sweater looks hand knit, bright red with a green Christmas tree in the center. Balls of colorful fuzz decorate the tree as ornaments. “I want you to wear it every day,” he says.

“Over my dead body. I’d rather you help me take it off.”

Nesta’s hips feel especially snug against his as heat rushes to his crotch. She smirks like she caught him on a hook and leans in to whisper, “You look tired. Did you stay up thinking about my dress last night?”

Cassian swallows roughly. It might have crossed his mind a few times—not just the dress, but the fact that she had picked it out for him. He didn’t know that Nesta cared about things like that.

She rubs a thumb under his weary and reddened eyes. “After your anger faded, did you think about all the make-up sex we were going to have? Because I did.”

“Nesta,” he groans, dropping his head to rest against her chest. Either she plays him too well or he’s too easy to play, because Cassian is half a second away from damning everything to hell and dragging her to the living room carpet.

Until Nesta’s stomach growls loudly.

That’s when he remembers: it’s Christmas morning, he’s with the love of his life, and they’re both starving and sleep-deprived.

He looks up to find her eyes screwed shut in frustration. Before she can protest, he warns, “Don’t even think about it.” He pats her thighs. “Let’s get some food in you.”

***

Cassian makes them chocolate chip pancakes, and Nesta, feeling clingier than usual today, hangs piggyback off his body the entire time he cooks. She hasn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours, yet she feels like she was born anew this morning.

In the middle of breakfast, Cassian’s phone vibrates. He hardly even glances at it before turning it over.

“Who was it?” Nesta asks through a mouthful of pancakes. She hasn’t asked him about how his own night went, but she expects that his friends will want to call and talk to him at some point today.

“Feyre,” he says without looking at her. “She asked where I went last night.”

“Why’re you ignoring her?” She raises a brow.

Cassian looks a little surprised. “I thought we were mad at her.”

“No.” Nesta sets her fork down. “I’m mad at her. What’s your excuse?”

He shrugs. “Solidarity. I’m mad that you had your Christmas Eve ruined. I know what it took you just to show up there.”

“You’re the only one that knows.” Nesta supposes that not everything has been cleared up with Cassian after all. “Listen,” she tries to soften her blunt tone. “Whatever is between me and my sisters… you don’t need to concern yourself with it. You’ll never have to choose sides between us.”

He watches her closely, carefully. “Even if I want to defend my girlfriend?”

Her stomach flutters at that inconsequential word, but she doesn’t show it. “Even then. Feyre looks at you like an older brother. I’m sure Elain does too, a little bit. Don’t let me get in the way of that.” He probably feels guilty every time he texts Feyre, the loyal bastard.

Cassian looks at his plate, then nods resolutely. “I can do that.” He adds a moment later, “For what it’s worth, I do get where the girls are coming from. Even if they had a shit way of going about it.” His eyes darken as he remembers.

Nesta doesn’t know what he was told about the fight, but she chuckles at his moody face anyway. “I expected you to. You’ve always loved spending time with your family, and you’ve never known anything different. But the reality is this: the closeness you have between you and your brothers isn’t something that can be forced onto every group of siblings. And the more Feyre and Elain try to force it, the more I push against it.”

“It sounds stifling.” His face is open, understanding. “To feel like you’re always too much but never enough.”

Nesta pauses, stunned. Cassian is almost too empathetic sometimes, like he carries a thousand past lives within him. Maybe he spent his time learning Nesta by heart in those lives.

Or maybe she’s getting too damn sentimental. She chokes out a dismissive laugh, going back to her pancakes. “Just text Feyre back. Then we can have the rest of the day to ourselves.”

***

Late morning brings heavy snowfall and a chill that infiltrates the walls of the cabin. The Christmas tree in the living room is lit—something Cassian didn’t notice earlier when he came downstairs to find Nesta in his house. Realizing that she’s the one who lit it up first thing in the morning does something to his chest, but he pushes the feeling down where it can’t scare Nesta away.

The weight of the past day must finally catch up to her, though, because by the time Cassian finishes lighting the fireplace, she’s knocked out asleep on the couch.

“No makeup sex then, Nes?” he says softly. Getting up from the hearth, he goes to pull the fur couch throw over her body. Cassian settles at the end of the couch near her feet, taking care so she doesn’t wake, and picks up his laptop from the coffee table. He’s been slacking with his work ever since he got with Nesta, and he might as well catch up on it now before Rhysand takes notice.

The first email that pops up in his inbox is a corporate reminder about the annual New Year’s Eve fundraiser gala, hosted in some high-class hotel in Denver this year. Cassian reads the email once, twice, three times before reaching for his phone.

Rhys answers on the first ring. “Oh, so you don’t hate us,” he drawls.

“What?” Cassian is confused.

“Because with the way you’ve been acting at family events lately, one would have reason to think you don’t want to be around your family much.”

“Oh—no, this isn’t about that.” Cassian refuses to let Rhys linger on this topic. “I called about the New Year’s party.”

“What about it?” he says. “Other than that tacky hotel.”

Cassian decides to spit it out. “I’m not coming.”

Rhys is stunned silent over the line for a moment. “What do you mean, you’re not coming?” Cassian never misses company events, no matter how much he hates dressing up and driving out to the city to schmooze with donors.

But too many of his holidays have gone to Rhys instead of Nesta this year, and he finds himself unwilling to give more.

“I’ve been stressed as hell lately,” he lies, trying to stay quiet for Nesta. “I’m always the one driving hours to see everyone else, and I can’t go all the way out to Denver for another party. I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit,” Rhys responds. “You have nothing going on at work and nothing going on outside of it. What could you be stressed about?”

Cassian makes a mental note to find a hobby that doesn’t include his brothers, if only so he can use it as an excuse to spend time with his secret girlfriend in the future. For now, he has to settle with the truth. “I can’t tell you.”

It’s a petty card to play, but it’s a valid one. No matter how nosy his family might be, they know how to back off when a line is drawn, no explanation required.

Rhys’s voice softens. “Is it serious? Is it a health issue?”

Cassian nearly laughs, even though he feels bad for making Rhys worry. “No, nothing like that. But I still can’t come.”

“What can I do to make it easier for you?” Rhys tries again. “New Year’s isn’t the same without all of my family in one place.”

Cassian snorts. “Come over to my place then.” He says it half-jokingly, but then Rhys doesn’t answer, as if he’s thinking.

“The gala guest list is too big to fit in the cabin…” he ponders. “But I guess I could have it narrowed down at the last minute. The Mayfairs certainly won’t be happy about it, though.”

Cassian’s eyes widen, and he looks over at Nesta’s sleeping form. “Uh…” He scrambles for something to get him out of this.

“New Year’s at a luxury cabin, all of us reuniting at your home for the first time in months? I love it,” Rhys declares. “Better than fucking Denver, that’s for sure.”

Cassian coughs, then covers it up with a forced chuckle. “I’ll have the place ready by next week.”

The call is over before he knows it, and all he can do is stare at the phone in his hand wondering what the hell just happened.

You didn’t entirely lose, he thinks to himself. You’re spending New Year’s with Nesta.

Yeah—New Year’s with Nesta and his entire family. He drops his head back against the couch and groans quietly.

***

Nesta wakes up late in the afternoon to Cassian presenting her with a mug of eggnog and bad news about New Year’s Eve.

The idea of another party, especially one with her sisters present, so soon after the last one makes Nesta’s very bones ache. But she supposes she’ll just have to take the next week to recover and prepare, because she isn’t missing out on a holiday with Cassian for anything.

The way she’s started romanticizing simple things like the new year should probably alarm her, but it doesn’t.

They sit down to open presents with the TV playing lowly in the background. It’s nothing serious, and Nesta isn’t expecting to get anything much until she unwraps her present.

It’s a vinyl record packaged in an elaborate sleeve with the words Nesta’s Mix etched across it. She slowly pulls the record out of the sleeve, staring at it. “What’s this?”

“It’s called a vinyl.”

She spears him with a look. “I got that. What’s on it?”

Cassian turns sheepish, sprawled out across from her on the carpet. “I stalked your Spotify to figure out what you listen to. Then I made a playlist based off what I thought you’d like and got it turned into vinyl. It’s all new music…” He trails off at the look on her face. “But if you hate it, the B-side has your favorite songs on there. You can listen to it either way.”

“I don’t hate it.” Nesta blinks her burning eyes rapidly, staring down at the gift in her hands. She’s not used to receiving thoughtful gifts—or pricey ones. “Thank you,” she says plainly, trying to let her feelings speak for themselves in those two words. “I love it.” She knows she should be saying more, damn it, but what can she say?

Cassian reaches out to put a hand on her knee, his thumb stroking circles across her leg. She looks up at him and realizes she doesn’t need words. Leaning forward, she lands a kiss on his cheek and can only hope that it’s sufficient. “Where am I going to play it?” she asks.

“I was close to getting you a record player when I remembered I already have one. I’ve never used it in my life.” He looks at her more gently now. “So it’s basically yours.”

Nesta’s chest tightens painfully. Not because he’s giving the record player to her, but because he’s suggesting they own it together.

“My present is going to look so stupid next to yours,” she says quietly.

Cassian grins. “Now I really need to see it.”

Nesta buries her head in her hands in humiliation while he tears open the wrapping paper of his gift, and only looks up when she hears him laugh aloud.

He’s holding a copy of one of Nesta’s favorite romances, and the first of many of her books that he’s ever stolen from her and read. He turns the vintage paperback around in his hands. “I remember this one. I totally had a sex dream about it.” He gazes in reminiscence at the busty blonde on the cover.

Nesta snorts, but scoots closer to him eagerly. “Look inside.”

He flips it open to find dark scribbles along the margins, in every single margin.

“I annotated it,” Nesta says hesitantly. “With my thoughts and analysis on each scene. It’s probably dumb to critically analyze a ninetie’s erotica novel, but I thought you’d find it funny.”

Cassian is flipping through the pages more slowly now, taking his time to read each one. “I don’t think it’s funny,” he says after a moment, his eyes still on the book. “I think it’s more than anything I could have asked for.”

“Well, that’s a bit dramatic for a romance book—”

“Not the book.” He looks up at her with something in his eyes. “It’s all your thoughts.” He looks back at the book in wonder. “Written out for me in detail to keep.”

He starts to smirk, searching for a specific page. “I already know how you feel about the boat scene, but now I need to read about it.”

Nesta makes a noise of protest, grabbing for the book. “Don’t spoil the good parts yet.” She can hardly believe it. He finds her joke present good. “You always spoil the good parts first and get sad about it later.”

He makes a face. “True.” He lowers the book, growing serious. “Nesta.” He clears his throat, and her heart starts pounding. She can hear the words before he says them—

“You’re a really good gift giver.”

Nesta’s breath shudders out of her, in relief or disappointment she doesn’t know. Cassian is still staring at her in amazement, and she can only respond by throwing herself at him, her arms holding him tight.

He doesn’t falter under her weight, but pulls her closer. “Thank you,” he says into her ear.

She pulls back far enough to see him. His beautiful face is outlined with too many emotions for her to read, yet somehow she knows exactly what he’s feeling.

Overwhelmed, she leans in to place a soft kiss above his upper lip, then on his mouth. “Merry Christmas,” she whispers against his lips.

“Merry Christmas, Nesta.”

***

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