#like i LIKE the version we got but COME ON

[call-me-rucy]

Professor Layton spoilers are illegal

Great! Now I have your attention. It wasn't a lie though.

TL;DR: Level-5 legal document says they will take down videos that show just the cutscenes of the games and videos edited with the purpose of listening to the games' music, among other legal measures.

The official Professor Layton twitter account published this tweet: https://x.com/L5_layton/status/1872196972142366916

It links to something called "guideline". I thought "Hey, finally, a rundown of all the games so new people know when to watch ED and..." It wasn't that. At all.

It is a legal document detailing what images and videos of the Layton series can be posted online without risking Level-5 breathing on our necks. Anyone else feeling like L-5 got a lawyer recently?

To be fair, it is extremely unlikely that they will come check Tumblr of all places for copyright infringement content but Im assuming that you all have lives outside of Tumblr, like in YouTube, Twitch, Twitter, Instagram or TikTok, and those places they will check.

So, here is what I understood from the rules:

Rule 0: These all apply to CV, DB/PB, UF/LF, LS/SC, MM, AL, LBMR, LMJ and PLvsPW:AA; all versions, including the trilogy on mobile and LMJ for switch and MM+. It does not apply to NWOS, which will have different rules explained later.

Rule 1: You can totally upload gameplay and still images from gameplay to social media, but if it's not directly captured from the console using console software they ask* that it has running commentary over, or opinions (basically something that makes it clear you're a fan and it's not an official video).

*This "ask" sounds like "we're not going to legally persecute you but please do us a solid".

Rule 2: Please put spoilers warnings before videos.

Rule 2.5: Don't post videos of the credits songs nor the first voice acting of LMJ. (The anime voice acting is fine).

Rule 3: It is prohibited to post videos that are just the animation scenes or videos and images that are just puzzles and solutions. If it's in gameplay it's fine, but the editing scenes together is not allowed.

Rule 4: Don't post videos or images to pages that you have to pay to enter. However youtube monetizing and similars are allowed.

Rule 5: If you post to a video sharing site you have to include a copyright notice like ©2007 LEVEL-5 Inc. The format depends on the game, look up the chart.

Rule 6: Third party rights are your problem.

Rule 7: Don't post anything that may make people think you are part of Level-5.

Forbidden things:

Anything that is ilegal

Anything that violates third party rights

Anything discriminatory

Anything that harms the image of L-5

Anything with cheats/glitches

Using the videos or still images to sell stuff (commercial purposes)

Editing movie scenes, audio, puzzles, or music from this series for the primary purpose of listening to them!!!

Using the images/videos for religious/political stuff.

And the kicker:

We may take measures such as deleting or suspending the distribution of videos, still images, etc. from this series that we determine to be in violation of these guidelines.

So yeah. Take care my friends! Enjoy the cutscenes and music compilations while they last and maybe don't look into Youtube downloaders.

[frostbitten-writer]

Bathtub nights

Pairing: Ekko x gn!Firefly!reader

Tags: established relationship; no description of R; nakedness??? I don’t know how to name it, but no smut or suggestiveness; FLUFF

A/n: just a simple, cute one-shot that I thought about while daydreaming, so yeah, enjoy 🫶🏻

The rustling sound of leaves and the creaking of wood were the only things that could be heard in the slow night. The hideout was full and peaceful, the little ones kind of helping with the feeling of pure chaos. You were usually stuck with them during the day, but not that you were complaining, it’s just the fact that you saw Ekko even less. He was always so stiff and serious, never eating or caring for himself. The wrinkles and lines on his forehead were giving him a few more years than he had, making his young face look older. So that’s why you’re here, balancing the tray with his favourite dish in your hands while walking up the steps to his workshop, which, unfortunately for you, was at the top of the tree. 

The wooden door creaked open and you slipped your head into the room, only to see an even more slumped version of Ekko sitting at his desk. To the sound of your steps, he turned around, and you could see his stiff face softening ever so lightly from your presence. The workplace was untidy and yet cozy, just like Ekko. The whole atmosphere was just screaming him. The room was illuminated by a small, warm lamp that made Ekkos eyes seem even warmer, the little specks of gold shining so bright, you almost felt your body melt. 

Carefully setting the plate of food and bread down in the mess of his desk, you sat on his lap and wrapped your arms loosely around his neck while looking down at him with a tender smile.

“Hey..” He rasped out, voice groggy from several hours of silence, his callused and dirty from metal hands snaking up to your hips.

“Hi, tree boy, already studied everything about trees and their existence, or is there something more?” You joked, lips forming into a lazy grin, one hand coming up to one of his dreadlocks.

“Not yet, but I’m close to it..” He smiled, clearing his throat a bit before giggling quietly to you tickling him with his hair. 

He looked at your face with a certain softness that only he could give to you, the expression of love no one else got to see. If you stared a bit longer into his eyes, you could promise you saw his pupils forming into hearts. 

“What’s that that you brought..?” He mumbled, peeking at the plate with a mysterious meal.

“A bit of food, your favourite.. hazelnut soup~” You hooked his chin between your fingers, tugging his head back straight to face you, his big doe eyes looking at you with interest. 

“Really..? You’re so good to me.. how did I get with you..” He mumbled and rested his forehead against your shoulder, his eyes drooping closed. 

“Well, I have to feed you with something if you don’t eat yourself..” You teased, your hands sliding to his shoulders, kneading the lumps and muscles.

He whined a bit at the sensation, head lolling to the side.

“I just- I didn’t have time to do so.. I feel like time’s running away from my grasp..” He whispered sincerely, looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“It’s okay, you just need some rest.. how about we take a warm bubble bath?” You suggested, doing your best to persuade him.

“You just want a reason to get me out of clothes..” He mumbled, his voice still tired but playful.

“Maybe~” You giggled quietly, jumping out of his grasp and then taking hold of his wrist. “Let’s go, space boy!” 

He only chuckled, the steamy soup long forgotten while you two ran down the spiral steps. 

Many Firelights stopped in their tracks at the sound of something or someone running down the stairs like a madman, their surprised expression growing back to neutral as they saw you two giggling and laughing. They all knew the effect you had on Ekko, they saw it by the way he would smile. Not the smirk he’d do when a plan worked, but a genuine one, an ecstatic grin.

When you reached your shared apartment, you slipped into the room, going straight to the bathroom, hands still clasped together. 

The steam was rising smoothly from the tub, the mirror already fully fogged, making the room humid and warm. He was about to ask how you managed to get it full, if you had already thought about it before asking him at the workshop, but he quickly shut himself up to the smell of the new oil or soap you borrowed.

“I found a new lavender and vanilla oil at the topside, smells amazing, right~?” You purred out with a grin, his expression confused and yet happy.

“Of course you did, found it.” He rolled his eyes affectionately, tugging at the hem of his shirt and pulling it off.

 

-

 

You both were now settled down in the bathtub, foam and bubbles flying around in the mist. He held you against his bare chest, your back rubbing against his skin, his long legs enveloping you from both of your sides. His dreadlocks were wet, his muscles finally getting their rest.

“Now that's a way to end the day, right..?” He whispered and pressed some lazy pecks to your shoulder. You only hummed in response, shifting sideways to face him, your damp hand wiping his face paint off.

“You always do that..” He giggled quietly, closing his eyes affectionately to let you get to his nose and forehead.

“And you love it..” You watched the drops of white colour roll down his cheeks. The smile on your face grew intimate, the chaos temporarily fading away.

“I do..” He whispered back, kissing the inside of your palm before tackling you and pressing gentle and chaste pecks all over your face…

[pink-onyx-au]

I hope everyone's holiday week is going well! I got these as gifts and I thought it would be cool to share with you all some real-life related lore about the AU!

So, why Pink Onyx? Why not just Onyx?

Onyx is, from what I understand, a classification of stone than it is a gem "species" in real life applications. Onyx as we know it tends to be a black gem with white rings, or all black gem. However, other gems in the jasper, agate, and marble family are also called "onyx!" That's why in the AU, the "rank" of Onyx is earned by promotion, not inherently made.

Never saw a "hot pink" onyx. Doesn't really fit what I think of as a fusion between Steven and Jasper.

So this is where my gift comes in!

On the left is "pink onyx", the fusion! On the right is "pink onyx", genuine! The left is a quartz silicate that has been dyed this color. It doesn't really occur this way in nature. The one on the right is more how you'd find a pastel pink rock that can be designated "pink onyx."

That's why the fusion is the "artificial" one, because they are a fusion!

Now you can see why Jasper was so upset at the name. Any gem-enthusiast or collector knows about dyed agate, and they are not natural!! Graaaa lol

But I like the hot-pink version. I don't judge. Pretty rocks are pretty rocks in my collection, man-made, fusion-made, or nature-born!

[nyankochan]

Pomegranate Seeds

Synopsis: Idia is terrified of you but after you guys accidentally end up in a “compromising” position, he realizes how much he enjoys your touch

Content: Idia x Cerberus!gn!reader, reader is a beast man, sub!idia, oral (male receiving), pre-ejaculation, multiple orgasms, over stimulation, sorry if Idia seems a bit OOC

W/c: 2.5k

Idia is avoiding you as much as possible.

First off: you terrified him. He couldn't figure out why a canine hybrid as yourself wasn't sorted into Savanaclaw like most beastmen but the mirror chose Ignihyde. You may be shorter than he was but you were definitely stronger and faster. And your acute sense of smell made it damn near impossible for him to hide from you.

Second: you were like a hyperactive puppy that required attention all the time. You'd come into his dorm when he was skipping out on his Housewarden duties and dragged him out of the confines of his room to take him on your many adventures. Don't let him try to escape or else you'd hunt him down. And let's not forget how you'd take it upon yourself to crash in his bed when you have a perfectly good room of your own.

Granted, Idia stayed up half the night gaming, but it was annoying finding your hair in his blankets!

Third: you never took the hint to go away! Idia was much too shy to directly tell you to screw off, so whenever he tried to make an excuse, you always managed to find a way to stay around. It's like you were glued to his hip whenever possible and he couldn't stand it.

He felt bad for doing it, but many times he pushed you off to Ortho. His poor brother didn't really understand, but you seemed to enjoy the younger Shroud's presence. You often coddled him cause of how cute he was and since he reminded you of your younger siblings from back home. And you two often played games together, racing to see who was faster, or making a mess baking in the kitchen.

Ortho couldn't quite compute the issue with you. You were sweet and caring. Sure, you could be a bit rough at times with the affection. But overall you were fun to be around. So he couldn't figure out why Idia didn't like you.

"Ortho!" You announce your presence as you kick open the boy's dorm door. Your tail wags excitedly as you proudly show off the object in your hand. "Look! Look! We got pomegranates in botany! They're so sweet and tasty!"

"Ohh! I've never had one before!" Ortho muses.

"You haven't?" You ask as you munch on the soft fruit. The blue haired boy shakes his head.

"I don't think they grow on the Island of Woe. It's pretty secluded."

"Oh? That sucks." You hand one of the extra fruits you took to Ortho. "Here! You can have one of mine." Crewel was less than thrilled when you ran off with a batch of them, refusing to share with anyone else. And when someone tried to take one, you growled at them. Poor Ace almost got his hand bitten off by his greedy upperclassman.

"Thank you!" Ortho then paused. An idea then came to him on how to get his brother to like you. "You know, I think my brother really likes pomegranate. You should give him one."

"He does? Hm, i guess I can share one more." You really didn't want to give away your snacks but for Idia you could make an exception.

"Brother should be in his room," Ortho says with a giggle. "He'll definitely be happy with your gift."

_______

Game over flashed in bright red letters on the screen. Idia groaned in annoyance and threw his controller on to the bed.

"This level is so stupidly hard. Do they not want anyone to beat it?" He had been playing this particular game for hours. A new release in a franchise he enjoyed, but compared to previous versions, this one seemed unnecessarily difficult. Sometimes stupidly so. Idia prided himself on being a bit of a game pro, so being bested by a mere level was irritating him more than he would like to admit.

"One more time. After this, I'm going to look through the online servers for a cheat," Idia told himself, picking up the controller. But before he could restart, his dorm door was kicked open.

"Ids!"

The long haired male pales. His body tenses when you nearly tackle him out of his gaming chair in a hug. "Y-Y/n-ssi-"

"Ids look! We got pomegranates today in class! Crewel let me take extra. Have you ever had one? Ortho said they were your favorite! They're super sweet! Fun fact did you know pomegranate shows up in a myth similar to that of the God of the Underworld?"

You continue to ramble on, obvious to Idia's increasingly flustered expression. The ends of his hair slowly turn bright pink to match his cheeks. You were sitting on his lap.

Idia tried to focus his attention anywhere else. The posters on his wall. His computer screen. Anywhere else to keep his mind off the way you pressed against his crotch while you animatedly talked. And as much as he tried to suppress it, he could feel his pants begin to tighten as an erection formed.

"No no no no this cannot be happening," Idia internally panicked. "I was not expecting to handle a boss of this difficulty. Ah, what do I do!?"

"Hey, Idia," you whine, pouting when you realize he's not paying attention to you. "Are you listening to me? Stop ignoring me."

"S-sorry!" Idia stammers, closing his eyes. You stare at him curiously, tilting your head to the side like a puppy. Your ears twitch. A sweet scent fills your nose that makes your tail wag.

Suddenly, You lean in until you're practically in his face, Idia's pale skin blossoming bright red as he flinches. You press your nose agains the crook of his neck. The sweet smell is coming from him.

"Y-Y/n..." Idia is paralyzed in his place. For some reason, you're on his lap, pressing against his raging boner, all while sniffing him as if he smelled. How was he supposed to proceed? What did one even do in this situation? He was too scared to push you off in case you took offense, but he was going to be even more mortified when you realized he had gotten hard. Sevens he didn't want you to think he was a creep.

"You smell...good," you sigh. "Really good. Like pomegranate." Your senses were going in overdrive. All you could focus on was Idia's scent and taking in more of it.

"Y/n w-wait a minute!" Idia finally finds his voice to speak. You pause and it finally hits you. What you're doing. The position you're in. Your own face blossoms red.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. You just-" He just smelled so good and you couldn't figure out why. It made your heart race and heat pool between your legs. And the aching desire to taste just to sedate the growing hunger was just as intense.

"Y/n," Idia's voice came out shaky. A borderline moan that he's embarrassed even came out. "p-please s-stop moving." His hands grip your hips. You had been steadily rocking against him. Now his erection pressing uncomfortably against his pants, which you for sure felt.

Your heart hammers against your chest from nervous excitement. This was a good sign right? That meant he felt something too, right? Idia wasn't a beast man, so some of the natural reactions (ears twitching, tail wagging, etc.) that you were accustomed to, he didn't have or do. So it was difficult to gauge interest. But this, this was a common reaction regardless of species.

You press against him harder. In response, Idia lets out a whimper, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

"Idia," you say gently. "C-can I please touch you more."

"H-huh?!"

"Y-you just smell so good. And it's driving me crazy. I'll stop if you're uncomfortable. Please?"

You give him near irresistible puppy dog eyes. Idia swallows back his nerves and gives a slight nod. He could handle this. It was just another boss level to conquer. He could totally handle it-"ahhh s-shit-" Idia's body jerks as your cold fingers feel up his shirt. Your claws tracing his smooth skin.

You press your nose against his chest, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath of content. You continue lower and lower, continuing to feel him up with your fluttering touch until Your hands brush over his crotch. Idia immediately grabs your wrist, hair burning pink.

"I...I..."

You tilt your head. "Do you want me to stop now?"

Idia swallowed. Yes. No. Yes! No!

"Can you go slow?"

You nod. Then scoot from his lap to the floor. Idia gulped, his heart thrumming against his chest in anticipation. He don't know what has come over him. How did things progress his far where he'd have you, settled between his legs just barely underneath his pc, staring up at him with innocent eyes as if your touch hasn't been fucking with him the past ten minutes. Naturally, every gamer probably imagines getting head from their partner under the desk while they play a game, but Idia didn't think it would actually happen to him! No amount of dirty manga and mature video games could have prepared him to react IRL.

"You smell good here too," you sigh constantly, ears twitching. You untie the drawstring of his sweats, pull the waistband down his hips, and reveal his dark blue boxers. There's a large bulge at the crotch, holding up the fabric along with a large wet stain. "Ids?"

Idia could die right there and then. He had already came. Just from you touching him!

"I'm sorry!" Idia covers his face but his hair betrays his flusteredness, a blaze of pink. "I-I didn't mean to. J-just."

You grab his hand, pulling it away from his face. A soft smile spreads across your features. "It's okay. Can I clean you up?"

Not really knowing what you meant, Idia nods nonetheless. You’re careful when you pull back his boxers. Inside's a sticky mess of white. It coats his cock that's long and thick. More pearls from the tip that's a bright red. The cool air making him twitch.

You start at the base near his heavy balls, licking up the side until you reach the top. Idia tenses, shaky moans leaving his blue lips as you continue to work your way up and down his cock. Your tongue feels rough. But he doesn't hate the feeling and tries hard not to buck up into your face. Idia could feel his stomach coiling but he didn't want to come again yet. Not so soon.

"You taste good," you moan. Your thighs press together, heat pooling in between them. And no matter what you do, more beads of pre leak out, leaving more for you to clean up. As you take Idia's cock back into your motive more, he lets out a louder moan this time. His fingers twitch, searching for something to grab on. And ultimately, his hands land on your ears. You're caught off guard by the sudden touch against your sensitive extremities and let out a squeak that catches both you and Idia off guard. And from the way his cock stiffens in your hand, Idia liked the sound of it.

"F-fuck I'm sorry!" Idia quickly apologizes. "I was just-"

"It's okay. It just surprised me," you say, bashfully. "You can touch them. But they're sensitive a bit."

Idia nods. Still with hesitation, he holds on to your hair to ground himself as you take him back into your mouth. His fingers trace the soft fur of your ears, making you moan. The vibrations leave Idia gasping.

"A-ah t-that f-feels good," he whimpers. Your tongue swirls around the tip before you take him deep again. Your cheeks hollowing to suck and slurp against his throbbing cock. When you pull back to do it again, Idia's hips buck up, and suddenly, he's coming down your throat.

"S-sorry!” Idia stammers. “I didn't meant to fuck it felt so good I couldn't help-"

Idia's head throws back as once again his cock hits the back of your throat. His hands tighten in your hair, and he whimpers out your name over and over again until it's the only thing he could event think of.

You're greedy. Trying to suck Idia dry to quell your own desire. You could feel yourself soaking down below, the budding anticipation making your stomach coil. Your grip on his thighs tightens.

"N-no no no wait," Idia begins to panic. He begins trying to push you away, but you don't budge. "Wait wait something isn't right. I-I'm gonna s-shoot again but it's different!"

Tears prickle against his eye lashes. This time the pressure feels too great. His balls constrict and his abs tense. He could feel his cock throb, as something was threatening to come out. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it back. Idia tugs at your hair harder.

"Y/n! Wait stop! I think I-i have to pee! Please! Fuck fuck fuck-" Idia cries out as he comes hard. His body jerks back into the chair, hips bucking up.

Hot, sticky release hits the back of your throat suddenly, and you're not prepared for the amount of cum Idia ejaculates. You pull back, sputtering into a cough. Idia is still coming, his release spraying into your face. He's a moaning mess. There's tears running down his cheeks. The overstimulation leaves him trembling.

You lick your lips and the side of your mouth, cleaning the cum off them. Needless to say you weren't expecting that, but it was so arousing, you almost wanted to see if you could make him do it again.

"Idia, are you okay?" You ask, standing to check on the male. You brush your thumbs across his cheeks to wipe the tears.

"I-I don't know what h-happened. It w-was too much b-but i-it felt so good. I-I'm sorry. I-" Idia babbles.

"It's okay, Idia," you assure, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "As long as you felt good."

Idia nods quickly. "R-really good. But I think I'm out of HP. I can't go again," he says, slumping back into his chair. He was quite frankly in the negatives. Even his cock had finally gone soft, but he still longed for your touch.

You remember then. The pomegranates. You had set them off to the side. Taking one of the fruits, you split it open, juice running down your fingers and you pull out the seeds. "Here," you offer to the blue haired male. "I'll be nice and share. Since it's technically my fault you're exhausted."

Idia stares blankly for a few seconds before taking the pomegranate seeds. They were sweet. And he couldn't help but wonder...His eyes trailed down the span of your body before his cheeks flushed at his dirty thoughts.

As mythology went, taking the pomegranate seeds bound two souls together. Would that mean the same for you two here on out?  You terrified Idia in a lot of ways, but at the same time, he couldn't deny the way your presence was starting to allure him. Just like the sweetness of the pomegranate seed.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Christmas memories ~ Tom Riddle x wife!reader (Drabble)

Requested: No

Pairing: Tom Riddle x wife!reader

Summary: As you watch your child open her Christmas gifts, Tom reveals a memory from years ago.

Word count: 652

Warnings: mentions of a lonely childhood; English is not my first language

A/N: Haven't posted in a while, hope those who celebrate it had/are having a wonderful Christmas full of love and warmth! Sending lot of love and a big hug to those who are alone, or feel lonely despite being being wiith other people. I love you guys <3 To those who don't celebrate, hope y'all are doing well too! Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it!

Tag list: : @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

“Mummy, this is the biggest one!”

“It is, darling. Go ahead.”

You took a sip of your hot chocolate as you watched your five years-old daughter excitedly open her last gift - which was the biggest one under the Christmas tree - in your living room, which soon revealed to be an enchanted doll’s house. Your daughter let out a loud gasp, which made you smile, and as you turned to look at your husband, who was standing against a wall, you could see that, despite trying to hide it, he was smiling too. 

“This is the one I wanted!” your daughter exclaimed happily, looking at you both with a great, adorable smile.

“Santa just knows everything, doesn’t he!” 

You heard your husband chuckle. You put your cup on the table and got up from the couch. 

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s put all your new toys in your room, shall we?”

You grabbed your wand, agitated it, and a second later, all the toys your daughter unwrapped minutes ago started levitating in the air before going upstairs in her room.

“Can I go play with them, please?” your daughter asks.

“Sure thing, darling.”

“Yay!”

Your daughter ran upstairs, and you shook your head with fondness. 

“I’m glad she liked everything,” you turned to your husband.

“Well, ‘Santa’ just happened to always be on point when it comes to gifts.”

You smiled, but suddenly anxiety came into your body.

“But did you like yours?” you asked.

It was always tricky to get gifts for Tom, because he would say he didn’t “need” anything, and the only thing he liked was books - which he bought himself all year. But this year, you decided to take risks and offer him not only books, but also clothes - black or grey, obviously -, some material to take care of his wand, some expensive quills, and a black ring. As he opened every one of them, he commented on the quality of the gift or its appearance, and made sure to kiss you as he said “Thank you, darling.”. But despite being with Tom for several years and knowing him for even more, his feelings were sometimes still  a mystery to you. 

His gaze softened, and he approached you, taking your hand in his. 

“Of course, love. I know I’m not easy to give gifts to, but trust that I appreciate the thought, and I know and appreciate the effort you made to make sure I liked them.” He hesitated before continuing, “Actually, as our child opened her gifts, it made me remember the gift you gave me on Christmas during our first year.” 

 You raised your eyebrow in disbelief, and suddenly the image of a much smaller and younger version of Tom and you during your first year at Hogwarts came to you. You remembered the nervousness you had felt while giving him your gift, his confusion as he took it and opened it, and his unsure, quiet, yet somehow sincere “Thank you.”. You two didn’t know it back then, but it was the beginning of something that would only grow. 

“You remember it?” you asked. 

“Of course.” His dark eyes changed, revealing a deeper feeling, and he looked at the ground for a second. “I still have it, and still cherish it.” 

You smiled, “It wasn’t much, just something made by an eleven year old to a friend she cared about.”

“It was the first gift someone ever got me.”

You felt your heart break, just like every time you were reminded of Tom’s lonely, loveless childhood - and all the Christmas he had spent in that orphanage without warmth, love, and people who cared about him. 

“And it won’t be the last,” you smiled teasingly.

“I sure hope so.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, putting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his own arms around your shoulders.

“You’ll never be alone, you know that?”

“I know.”

Want to be tagged? Just use my Ask-Box and I'll gladly add you!

Masterlist

Next projects

[sepdet]

Pity the fool who wasted money scraping all of Tumblr.

Discovered: December 26, 4PM MST.

I reported this to Tumblr help "Something Else, " but I dunno how long it'll take @staff to see it.

UPDATE DEC 27:

I received a reply to my complaint email to Cloudflare.

Cloudflare received your DMCA copyright infringement complaint regarding: tumgik.com

Please be aware Cloudflare offers network service solutions including pass-through security services, a content distribution network (CDN) and registrar services. Due to the pass-through nature of our services, our IP addresses appear in WHOIS and DNS records for websites using Cloudflare. Cloudflare cannot remove material from the Internet that is hosted by others.

Hosting Provider: DIGITALOCEAN-ASN, US

Abuse Contact: abuse@digitalocean.com

We have notified our customer of your report.

Sites like this often register with Cloudflare to disguise their real webhost. I'm not sure if the real webhost will respond to takedown notices, as a search for their name reveals a number of threads on questionable web activity, but it's worth asking.

To Do:

Put your blog url into Google search and see if a non-tumblr.com version comes up.

If it doesn't, do a victory dance! We beat 'em. Otherwise:

File a DMCA notice with abuse@digitalocean.com.

Report the scraped site to Google.

Share this post.

For offending content, put the URL of the tumgik page stealing your content, for copyright owner, put the URL of your blog, and report something like "scraped/copied my blog without permission." You might also include a link to one of your posts from several years ago, as their website is only a year old. But you don't have to; they've got links to tumblr all over their site since they copied it wholesale, proving the content comes from here.

Fly, my pretties, fly!

[toxinoire]

The craziest thing about Epic is that it didn't need Ody's canon to The Odyssey SA to show that Odysseus has lost his own autonomy anyway.

He embraces his side as "the monster" until you question, is he really? Or did he really have no choice?

Looking at the line of "I am not your kind and gentle husband" makes me think back to Just A Man.

It is shown that Odysseus really hates being soldier. He had no choice but to kill the infant because Zeus told him to. And Troy? If we look at The Iliad, he didn't want to go to war from the beginning. And this is the first real time he loses a part of him; his kindness makes him argue with Zeus, his gentleness makes him willing to raise the boy. But he couldn't defy the King of The Gods.

And then Polites tries to bring those parts back, even unintentionally. But Athena tries to tell him he can't do that--his mentor contributes to losing those aspects of himself.

Next is when Polites dies, and well, that's self explanatory.

Another is when Polyphemus kills some of his crew. Part of his identity is being a captain, a king. He knows how to lead people. But then shit went down and he slowly fails to be captain anymore.

And then Poseidon adds onto making Odysseus lose that side of himself more by killing majority of his men.

Circe's Island made him hold onto the scraps of being a captain he has left in him. But even so, Circe tried to lust him so she could kill him, which itself is bad. Though Circe lets them go, even though Ody was unaware of Circe almost killing him, that itself made him hold onto the husband part of him more. That's what got him out of it.

So the Underworld. He hears the screams of his men, and their last thoughts blaming him. Their last thoughts being "Captain, why would you let the Cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy-" is them blaming Odysseus for their deaths. This makes him lose more of his captain side.

Then he sees Polites, and then his mom. He breaks down again after we last saw him do so in Troy.

And then Tiresias shows him his fate, which he misinterprets. Why? We all know the man is him, but why did he not think it was him? He was holding onto the husband part of him the most, so much that it blinded him.

So here comes song 20.

And in the Thunder Saga, we see him lose more of his gentleness and kindness. He's also barely holding onto being a captain by a thread.

Scylla is the entire explanation.

Mutiny is the last bit of that thread and it finally snapped during Thunder Bringer. He lost his leadership, he's no longer a captain. And quite frankly, it traumatized him so much already.

Calypso's island, though this version makes Calypso naive, she, like Jorge said, is ruthless in her own way. He was trapped. He was probably still holding onto the husband aspect of him subconsciously, as to why he never slept with her. But it was buried pretty deep.

"All I hear are screams" Who's to say he hadn't been hearing this for the past seven years, but that day he was so close to losing to those screams. He lost his side of being a captain, he lost his side of being a friend, he lost his side of being gentle and kind.

So his side as a husband is all he could hold onto anymore in The Vengeance Saga. During Full Speed Ahead, we see his king aspect through the lyric "Ithaca's waiting, my kingdom is waiting" but in Dangerous, he has no more king aspect. It's just him wanting to be home to his family at this point.

And then he loses himself more in Six Hundred Strike, as he lost his last bits of mercy when Poseidon offered him none. All that's left of him is wanting to be with Penelope, and his hopes of finally seeing his son.

The suitors' plans had been horrible. But honestly, he would have killed them anway even if they hadn't planned shit. He lost his patience for threats, he lost his mercy, his gentlessness. He is still cunning, but he's gone. Odysseus, King of Ithaca, is gone. "Old king" He's still king by title, but can he really manage a whole kingdom anymore? Like he used to since he was thirteen?

If it had not been for Penelope, he never would have embraced that he, no matter what, is still just a man, no matter how monstrous. But he lost so much of himself, and he knows. He lost his own autonomy, he lost what he knew of himself.

Finally holding his son and his wife yelling at him made him understand that he's still human, but post Epic/The Odyssey the man is already so traumatized, that he most likely forgot so many things of himself. He lost what made him Odysseus, King of Ithaca, which is a BIG part of him. Odysseus, husband of Penelope, father lof Telemachus, is all that's left of him. While those may be the most important parts of him, he's still traumatized, and only knows of himself as a monster now.

He is, quite frankly, no longer him.

[lurkingshan]

Shan's Favorite Dramas of 2024

The year is wrapping up and I have forced myself to narrow down to a list of 15 (I tried 10 but the choices were too hard!) of my favorite 2024 dramas across genres and countries of origin. This is not every drama I liked this year (that list would be incredibly long), but these are the ones that inspired the most brain rot and really stuck with me.

At 25:00 in Akasaka (Japan, Gaga)

The mood and tone of this drama was just perfect, and I loved the way it explored the blurred lines and confusion that can result when the real and fake aspects of a professional relationship get all mixed up. Hayama was a great character and I loved his arc, in particular.

Cherry Magic (Thailand, Viu)

I still can't believe how much I loved this adaptation. A fantastic example of taking a work from another culture and translating it to a new context while not only retaining the core narrative, but even enhancing it. This show gave us what the Japanese version didn't--the resolution to the physical intimacy arc at the core of the premise--and retained all the charm of the original while adding new humor. And delivered one of the best romances of the year while it was at it!

Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear (Japan, fansub)

Oppan, my beloved. Easily the best family drama of the year, loaded with excellent messages while (mostly) avoiding feeling like an after-school special. Makoto's journey to update his thinking with Daichi's help, and the mutual friendship that developed between them, is one of my favorite relationships of the year. I loved every character's story; there is something for everyone to connect with in this show.

Fangs of Fortune (China, iQIYI)

This drama was just so much FUN. A gorgeous feast for the eyes, a wealth of fascinating characters and relationship dynamics, and a fast-moving plot that you don't need to try too hard to understand. It was a great binge and Li Lun was easily my favorite villain of the year.

Gyeongseong Creature (South Korea, Netflix)

A gorgeous period piece set during one of the darkest chapters of Korean history, this one took me by surprise (I am usually not a horror girlie). The writing for this show had surprising depth and I loved its themes around family and loyalty and survival under fascism.

Knock Knock Boys (Thailand, Gaga)

My boys! I loved this show about a group of four queer men living together in a shared house, getting into mischief and supporting each other through school and work and relationship struggles. The show is funny and breezy but also manages to tackle some serious issues with grace while delivering two strong romances and my favorite coming out narrative of the year.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (South Korea, iQIYI)

Winner for best QL of the year, and a romance that will be sticking with me for a long time. Dohoe is one of the most honest and unflinching depictions of a an adult psyche shaped by childhood abuse that I have ever seen on my screen. It was healing to see him treated with such compassion and to see him and Juyoung find their way to a happy life together. An absolute must watch for all you angst with a happy ending fans.

Love for Love’s Sake (South Korea, iQIYI)

It's so hard to get a high concept premise like this right, but this drama did an amazing job with it. It's one of those shows where you can go back over everything that happened in retrospect and it all adds up, and I loved that the ending lent itself to so many different interpretations. One of the best watch experiences of the year.

Love in the Big City (South Korea, Viki)

Go Young, my beloved. This drama adaptation of the internationally successful novel exceeded my wildest expectations, and I am still a little stunned that we got the privilege of seeing it. It is, bar none, the most authentically queer show on this list, and a beautiful depiction of all the significant relationships in one young man's life. I will be rewatching it many times and keeping it close to my heart.

Love is Like a Poison (Japan, fansub)

A masterful blend of comedy, action, and romance, this drama about a lawyer with delusions of grandeur and the scam artist who decides to become his partner was a constant delight and gave us my favorite battle couple of the year.

Marahuyo Project (Philippines, YouTube)

I can't tell you the joy and relief I felt to get another high quality queer drama from the Philippines this year. And this one had such a great cast of characters, anchored by one of my favorite protagonists of the year in King. It's funny, it's romantic, it's touching, and as always for a JP Haboc production, it has an amazing soundtrack.

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat (Japan, fansub)

My girls! I'm still amazed by how much this drama gave us in its second season by expanding the world of the show beyond our two main characters to include so many other women whose stories were just as fascinating. This is the season where Nomoto and Kasuga really came into themselves and started building the life they want to have together, and it was a real joy to watch.

Tender Light (China, YouKu)

The way this show had me in a chokehold while it was airing! Visually stunning, incredibly well-constructed, and featuring one of the best performances of the year from Zhang Xin Cheng, it's an exhilarating mystery and a very touching story of the unusual bond between a student and the older woman who fascinates and terrifies him.

The Midnight Romance in Hagwon (South Korea, Viki)

You know a drama is good when it has you deeply invested in a random topic you never thought you were interested in. In this case, that's the intense debate on pedagogical methods between the public schools and hagwons in Korea. Alongside delivering a great romance, this drama was passionate about teaching and it sucked me right in to the Korean literature lessons at the heart of the story.

Unknown (Taiwan)

No other drama inspired more brain rot in me this year than this story of a family rocked by changing feelings as the chosen siblings grow up. The loyalty and love and complex desire between Wei Qian and Wei Yuan is the heart of this story, and the drama did an incredible job of taking us along for the journey as things shifted and changed between them. I still think about them all the time.

Bonus: Favorite Classic Dramas Watched for the First Time in 2024

I am always catching up on an endless backlog of dramas alongside my live watches. Here are the best gems I finally watched this year.

Lost (South Korea, Viki)

I loved this deeply melancholy drama about two lost souls who connect unexpectedly. I finally pulled it up from my to be watched list because it shares director Hur Jin Ho with Love in the Big City (he did part 2 with Go Young's mom) and it sure feels like it! The characters are deep and complicated, the relationships are complex and carefully built, and it is hands down the best encapsulation of a failed marriage between two good people who truly loved each other that I have ever seen. It's heavy and not for everyone--mining the depths of human despair is kind of its thing--but if you like this sort of story it's world class.

Mouse (South Korea, Viki)

I was recently in the market for a good mystery thriller, so I finally watched this apparently very divisive 2021 drama--and if there's a divide I am firmly on the HELL YEAH side of the line. This drama had an interesting concept (that I will not describe bc holy shit spoilers, you should go in knowing nothing) that it unwound with remarkable patience and precision over 20 episodes. Its themes were strong and consistent, the lead characters were super compelling, the plotting and pacing and editing were unbelievably tight, the performances were incredible, and it made a lot of provocative points and ended well, feeling coherent and complete. It sustained my full interest and attention without any stumbles for ~25 incredible hours.

Mr. Sunshine (South Korea, Netflix)

Another one that's been on my watch list forever and finally got its moment when I was in the mood for a historical where ladies got to wield weapons alongside the men. And unsurprisingly, I loved it. Writer Kim Eun Sook is known for her big, glossy, epic dramas, and her style made a good pairing with a story about a rebel faction during the Japanese occupation of Korea. I really loved all the main characters in this show, and was moved by the complicated exploration of their loyalty (or lack thereof) to their homeland. This drama also has a very strong class analysis baked into its themes, which I very much appreciated. It was a traumatic watch, but in a way that felt right given the setting and the choices characters made.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear (Thailand, YouTube)

I watched this one on a mission and it was worth every moment. Nut is one of my favorite protagonists in any queer drama, and I thought the show made great use of its fantasy concept to explore some very real human experiences with depth and compassion. This show feels like an especially important counterpoint to the Thal BL bubble, and I recommend it highly for anyone who enjoys those dramas.

When I Fly Towards You (China, Netflix)

And we end on a light and sweet note, with my favorite coming of age romance that I watched all year. This drama was just lovely, and it will be a go-to rewatch for me for years to come. There’s something so comforting about a story where you start with the happy ending before jumping to the beginning, and just get to sit back and see how they get there. I loved all the characters in this and marveled at how it was never boring despite being decidedly low angst.

[taylor-titmouse]

2024 Book Retrospective

i did this last year for all the books i released in 2023, and i've been looking forward to doing it again for this year because it was Such a wonky ride. i released 3 new novellas, collected 3 old ones in a new illustrated release, put out a new freebie, and dipped my toes into artbooks for the first time. that's not even including the multiple extra things i wrote this year but will release next year. it felt to me like i barely got anything out in 2024, but looking back i really did plenty.

anyway let's get into it! these will probably contain spoilers for the books because i want to talk about them openly. if you haven't read them yet... they're on sale for 40% off until the new year!

The Masson Circle Collection (1-3), released in January

so! we started out the year with this updated version of some of my earlier works. daffodils, carnations, and laurels were among my first forays into publishing novellas, and were the last of my romances before i transitioned more deliberately into erotica. the distinction is practically arbitrary since i do still write about people in love, but it's not the focus so much as the sexual titillation.

but anyway. because these were romances and not Porn (despite having explicit sex in them), and because they came out before i'd really hit my stride as an erotic author/illustrator in 2021/2022, they never got the attention i'd have liked for them! they were the last before i made the switch to properly illustrating my books; they had sketchbook sections at the back instead. i started the roger crenshaw series shortly afterward, which is when my work really took off. so it's like these stories just missed their window.

but i wanted people to read them! these stories and characters are dear to my heart and i felt like they deserved a fair shake, so i spent a month or so at the end of 2023 revising the text to be closer to my standards (though they were pretty good to start with!) and made 30 new illustrations for it. i kept myself Busy getting this ready. it would be a huge release to kick off the new year!

.... and then it didn't do very well anyway. lmao. maybe i priced it too high, maybe i didn't hype it enough, maybe it's because as much as i love all the characters, they're hard to draw and not as exciting as a monster of the day. who knows! but i'm glad i did it, if only for myself. as i've said, these stories were important to me and my growth as an author. if you like historical queer romance with a crime thriller edge, something like kj charles (because she was my biggest inspiration at the time) you should check these out! i promise they're really good despite being on the older side.

The Long Road, released in May

boy that's a big gap between january and may. so what happened there is i actually wrote the night guest first in january-february, and then the long road in march-april. but IMPORTANTLY, i learned my editor @petitemortality was going to become available for work again in april. it'd been probably a year since i'd had his hands on my work and i was Gasping for it. i've compared it to receiving the sponge treatment--just being put through the wringer and coming out So much better for it after a year of bad habits and complacency building up. so basically i put all publishing on hold until he could Fix Me.

and then i ended up rewriting both of those books practically from scratch based on his advice and godddd they really Were so much better for it. it's AGONY in the moment, but the work is worth it. anyway let's talk about the actual work huh.

the genesis of these characters is So funny, because i don't think a single one of them was created for the purpose of this story, rather they all existed as various mobs/nobodies to draw. the goblins and bandits beside vanesse were just designs i used a few times when i wanted to draw characters getting gangbanged. vanesse and angre were created Just for a patreon suggestion of "trans femme bandit queen fucking a trans masc knight". and tourmaline only exists because i wanted to draw a princess getting gangbanged and eveline didn't feel "right" for it anymore. and i ended up with this perfect mishmash of characters that slotted together into a story so naturally that i remember waking up in the middle of the night and banging out the outline in the notes app before falling back asleep and starting to write it the next day.

and it was received pretty well! it had a ton of buildup from me drawing the characters constantly for the duration of the writing and doing a ton of public worldbuilding for dwarves. god i love the worldbuilding for the dwarves. i'm desperate to get deeper into it, i just need to find the story for it. and the goblins. everybody loves the goblins and so do i. and vanesse. ahhhhh.... i'm just so fond of everybody in this book lol. just a big confluence of Toys.

oh yeah and since last year i picked favorite scenes, i think my favorite is angre's internal monologue at the start of his chapter. we get a lot of the worldbuilding there (so of course i like it) but also the Point of the book comes together. i'd struggled a lot with that whole bit in the first draft, but the final draft really just *chefs kiss* it works, for me.

The Night Guest, released in July

as i mentioned before i actually wrote this one much earlier into the year! and immediately had known it wasn't ready, and so backburnered it for months until my editor could essentially fix it. and he fixed the hell out of it. it was a directionless mess in the first draft because i hadn't figured out the characters' voices, what they actually wanted, why they behaved how they did, none of it. it was his idea to structure it more deliberately like an old folktale of a woman outwitting a best, and it snapped into place. of course it was a nearly total rewrite that added like 7000 words (and to this day i'm still not sure how) but it was completely worth it. i feel like i've said that multiple times in this post but it's always true. i cannot stress enough how much i was gasping for a good editing. it's like a cleanse.

this is another story that just sort of Happened out of nowhere. mrs. arakawa was a side character in the dragon double feature 2, and people liked her, and asked about her getting her own monster boyfriend, and so toru was born. partially to get practice drawing that bodytype, partially because i think onis are hot, and then the general shape of a story came to me and i started writing it. without a perfectly clear vision of what it would be. and that's how we got to where we were at the start of this. oops.

i have two favorite parts, the first being this illustration:

when toru is describing the oni woman he was supposed to marry. his entire narrative arc and personal struggle was constructed for the purpose of this joke. i agonized for DAYS, maybe weeks, trying to make his motivation of "i didn't want to get married" work with mrs. arakawa's own feelings about marriage and him having to leave at the end and come back and all of that. it was killing me. but it worked out in the end and i'm so happy it did because i still think the joke that he didn't want to marry a shoujo nadeshiko archetype because he thinks she's ugly is fucking hilarious.

my actual favorite scene is him and mrs. arakawa telling each other stories about themselves. i had a lot of fun trying to ape the rhythms of kabuki performance and rakugo with it.

Spring with the Unicorns, released in June

technically this ought to go before the night guest because it came out first but considering i wrote the first draft of the night guest in january *waves hands* it's all loosey goosey anyway

so this came about because i had the idea to do a book called Season's Breedings (so many of my books happen because i thought of a title and worked backwards from there) and it was literally just going to be the breeding habits of fantasy fuckworld creatures arranged by season. i wrote this one first because it seemed the easiest and then it was less than 4k words, and every other story i had in mind was going to be Much More than that and also didn't come together as easily. so on a very last minute whim i illustrated this and threw it out for free on the last day of pride.

it's me at my loftiest because i was going for a sort of third person omniscient fable type beat, because that's what unicorns deserve. i like it, and it's a good little treat to give out for free. especially because everybody loves the unicorns and loves asking me the same four lore questions and i can just say 'go read the free story' lmao.

it's too short to really have a favorite Scene but barberry is my favorite unicorn. just love everything about that guy. angry little bastard.

Poker Night with the Arizona Dogs, released September

it's not prose but it counts! this is the first artbook i've ever released, though technically not the first i ever made. the unicorn stockades series came before it but will be released sometime next year. it's a bit more spring-seasony. but anyway.

these are a lot of fun to make! i am, at my heart, a comic artist (my day job is graphic novels, buy my graphic novel it comes out in february) so telling a single story in multiple illustrations is kind of my bread and butter. and free use/gangbang stuff is like. perfect for it. everybody has to get a turn! and on top of that it lets me play in a space in a way prose doesn't. prose feels so much more official, more canon (which is how i think of the difference between my drawings and my books--books are canon, drawings are not). but with something like this it's easier to say it was just for fun. because it was! it was a lot of fun.

my favorite illustrations were the jackie-ralph licking ones (because i think i did a good job with the mouths and the folds and all) and the one with johnny with his hand over roger's face and hiding his own. jackie-ralph is probably my favorite of the dogs to draw because he's easiest but johnny is certainly my favorite of the Boys.

Objects of Affection, released in December

boy, this one huh! there is so much to say about this one. this one has like three separate catalysts that blasted together at the end of the summer and it just Happened all at once. there was a person requesting variations on "a mechanic taking advantage of an android they're repairing" for a few months on patreon that i kept meaning to do because it kept winning second place. there was another story i wrote that was too short to publish alone that i was like "okay what if i make a sci-fi anthology and one of the stories is robots..." and then i started rereading chobits for inspiration and it Pissed Me Off So Much how little it wants to engage with its own ideas.

and then the sci-fi anthology idea became only about the robots and i never published the original little short (which will come out next year as a freebie). and then my editor's computer Exploded for two months and he wasn't able to edit it ; ; the wait was Agony because this was one i really, Really did not want to release without proper feedback. something fucking Possessed me with this book and what it says about women and consent and masculinity and all the shit. like those are themes i've already touched in my other works, but in this one it was like turning the knob on a pressure cooker.

it's tough to think of what to say about it that i didn't say in the days after it was released. i've always been frustrated with robot stories that preoccupy themselves with the Theory of rights for artificial life and not the reality of rights for the people we already have. i'd watched astro boy 2003 and pluto shortly before starting (so i guess that's actually 4 things that came together) so Robot Rights!! stories were fresh in my mind and i'd found astro boy particularly frustrating with its insistence on pacifism from the oppressed robots as the government and populace kept abusing them. it is very hard to watch something that says "violence is never the answer! don't fight back, choose peace!" while your own country is aiding and abetting a genocide and obsessing over retribution for a single attack born of decades of settler violence as if they are in any way equivalent.

breathes out

so anyway that's why i chose to write about robots who undeniably do not have sapience, humanity, or rights. because we haven't come even close to solving the issue of rights for ourselves, particularly women (an admittedly easier topic to approach in an erotic work than the horrors of racially motivated war). and between chobits, which suggests a world obsessed with androids but doesn't deeply explore the social ramifications of a female-shaped servant class, and my research into real dolls, the closest thing we already have to fuckable brainless androids, there is a lot of material to draw inspiration from. how a person treats an unperson, particularly one shaped like a woman, will reflect upon how they treat a real person, a real woman.

to be less of a bummer and talk about the Stories, ratna's was the first i wrote, and went through the most revisions between drafts as i tried to figure out her whole deal. she was always going to be a stone butch dyke mechanic, so how would that sort of person feel in her line of work? would she be a stereotype of man-hating lesbian, and sympathetic to the android girls she has to send home with them? or would she be an unrepentant sleeze, just as bad as everyone she works for? i think i ended up somewhere in the middle. she doesn't like men, but doesn't think of herself as better for not being one. she thinks she's better because she isn't better, but at least acknowledges it. and figuring that out was important to figuring out the character. and also going in way harder on the beauty of the mechanism. that was mainly for You Guys, but it was crucial to her character working.

touma and shima's story came to me like a lightning bolt as i was leaving for a vacation. it was going to be, if you can believe it, Even More toxic yaoi. touma ws going to jerk shima off from behind as he fucked mari-ko, it was going to be way more explicit that he was mainly attracted to shima. but ultimately none of that served the actual purpose of the book, about treating people as objects and tools, so i dialed it back. but don't get it twisted touma is still insane and obsessed with shima and wants to touch his cock. but the story as it exists is a more realistic place for him to be at.

and samart and marinette's story was pretty much unchanged from first to final draft. the concept waffled a bit before i started writing, where my first idea had been that he makes her participate in taboo fantasies (calling him big brother, telling him no etc) and the narrative basically asking the question--is this wrong? is it better because she's not real, because he's doing it with her and not a real woman? does her 'no' matter if it's a 'no' she was ordered to say? is it worse because she can't meaningfully consent to the play either way? does any of it matter beyond the effect it has on him?

but as much as i'm interested in unpacking those concepts, i decided they would be too difficult for the audience and potentially open me up to scrutiny and abuse, because you can't even breathe the word "incest" without having your doors beaten down. the book as a whole is difficult, and i want it to be difficult, but i didn't want it to become about That. so instead i went with exploring the sort of loneliness and misanthropy of a person who lives the way he does, and i'm satisfied with it. i think it's the sharpest of the three stories.

wow i had nearly twice as much to say about that one than the rest. lol.

but that's it! that's everything i released! as i hinted throughout there were several other things i wrote this year that will see release next year. i have a free short, a $3 short, a novella awaiting editing, and at least two more artbooks to release. there'll be plenty for me to write about in next year's retrospective.

my writing goal for 2025 is to finish a novel. i did actually reach a finished draft with starbuster, the novel i've been pecking at for the past two years, but having done so and mapped out all the work it needs to be submission-ready, i've put it down semi-permanently. it simply needs too much and it's a bit too niche for traditional publishing, and it's in a genre (contemporary) i don't really want to write more of. so the best use of my time is on something else. it's a shame, but it's for the best! hopefully something will crack me upside the head with inspiration and it'll just Happen like all my best work seems to, lmao.

but if you've read all of this, or just read some of it, thank you!! thank you for supporting me for another year, or the first year if you just got here. if you haven't read everything i put out in 2024, it's on sale until jan 1st! go pick it up for cheap!!

[apomaro-mellow]

the govt gets kas!eddie 4

part 3

Steve typically found it so easy to get lost in Eddie. It wasn't always easy to steal moments alone. The walls of the trailer were thin and his house wasn't always an option. It got to the point where they had tried to use the Scoops Ahoy freezer but it hadn't been worth it. The point is, when they got hot and ready, they usually went right for it, knowing they might not get another chance alone for a while.

But this time, as Eddie was thrusting his hips against him, Steve did his very best to keep his head above water. Not only was his boyfriend's new breeding endeavor a lost cause, but Dustin was screaming in his ear.

"Steve! Steve! STEVE SAY SOMETHING DID HE EAT YOU!?"

Eddie growled at the noise and Steve quickly pushed the button. "I'm fine! I'm fine! I'm just-Eddie, Eddie stop-Jesus stop!" The annoyed tone in his voice turned to breathy laughter instead as Eddie started to lick his neck.

Getting Eddie to stop took just a bit more, but finally he was able to get him to pause. He didn't remove himself from Steve though. He remained on top of him, looking like a dog that was told not to eat a treat that was right in front of them.

Eddie could be patient. He could wait. Wait until his mate was ready. But then he started taking too long. Was talking for too long. Eddie rubbed his face against his belly, thinking of it growing, getting round, filled with babies.

Then Steve was getting up. Eddie whined, prompting Steve to touch his cheek while he continued to talk, although it sounded more like arguing the longer it went. Then Steve was on his feet, walking around, then he was walking to the door-

NO

Eddie was on him in seconds, pinning him to the door. "Need you. Need you here."

"Eddie. Eddie listen to me. I have to go."

"No."

"Eddie...I'm not leaving you." Steve cradled his face. "We're going to bring you home."

That made Eddie pause. And Steve's touches didn't hurt either. "Home...you and, you and Wayne?"

"Yes", Steve nodded.

Then he leaned in and kissed Eddie's nose. That pulled a new sound from him. Like a trill from the back of his throat. It was cute. And enough to let him release Steve. Mission in mind, Steve returned to the others. By the time he did, the cameras were back on Eddie.

"What did you do?", Dustin asked the moment he got back.

"Don't worry about it", Steve said. "We need to get Eddie out of here."

"I agree", Wayne said, arms crossed.

And then negotiations began. Because of course the government was absolutely against letting him free but they had to admit that the creature seemed much more calm after Steve had spent some time with it. And a few of the scientists already had their theories on what had happened with the cameras off. Steve could only fix his hair and clothes so much.

They didn't get what they wanted right away. It took a few days of Steve and Wayne coming back to argue their case before Eddie was finally transported to Steve's house under cover of night. Steve had told Wayne beforehand that he was more than welcome to stay too. Wayne declined, thanking him and saying he'd visit, but that he'd give the newlyweds at least one night alone.

Steve still couldn't believe that Wayne had known this whole time. But he never would have gotten this second chance with Eddie had his uncle not been aware.

And then they were alone.

Steve thought Eddie had been practicing patience but instead he'd just been very busy. It was another sign that his Eddie was still in there. His Eddie could never sit still for long. And this version of him remembered where some things were. That was the only explanation for how he'd begun to gather pillows and blankets and bring them to the living room.

Steve just watched him for a moment, wishing he had a camera in hand to capture this. Eddie spotted him and perked up then. Then, before Steve knew it, he was scooped up in his arms and carried over into the soft pile.

"Nest for mate. Nest for pups", he said. "Do you...like it?"

It was a pile of blankets in the middle of his living room. But it was soft. He nodded. "Yes, I like it Eddie."

Eddie cooed and hugged Steve tight. He nuzzled his neck. Steve allowed himself to relax. There weren't soldiers or monsters outside. He finally had Eddie all to himself. All of his feelings since the funeral began to wash over him like crashing waves. He sniffled a little and he held Eddie tight.

He didn't think he'd ever get to do this again. Eddie picked up on his mood change and touched his cheek.

"Steve?"

He looked up to meet Eddie's eyes. "Eddie, I love you. I never stopped loving you and I'm so-I'm so goddamn happy that you're alive."

Eddie made a sound from his chest. One that sounded like uncertainty. "Even...even like this?"

Steve's fingers brushed over his cheeks. There were sharp fangs now, and something feral in his eyes now. But he was still the one who had captured his heart.

"You haven't changed a bit."

He kissed Eddie then, fully on the mouth and suddenly his boyfriend's entire weight was on top of him. Eddie worked his legs apart. He purred against Steve's mouth and pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.

"Mate?"

And, well, call Steve weak because he was skeptical that anything would come of it, but he was intrigued by the prospect of it. He gave a slow nod and spread his legs even more. Right away, Eddie slid down his body and began to nose as his crotch. Steve whimpered. It didn't take much to turn him on but Eddie was working over time.

Steve appreciated it because he was sure when morning came he'd have a dozen people at his doorstep.

Taglist

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[applestorms]

@jessaerys ok shit this took a while but WHATEVER. wammy's lore collection here we go :3c less analysis this time, this is mostly just to archive the main known details we have in canon about the house, and also the people from there more generally. however much you wanna accept all this/take it at face value is up to You, Dear Reader (and tbh y'all should just read all these if ur curious since they're all pretty short + have Interesting narrators. i'll include links to free versions). do whatever you want forever etc. etc. also, SPOILERS. obviously.

LABB: (listen here)

no this book isn't written by ohba. yes i'm including it. shush. anyways, most of the lore in this comes from mello's vague comments about beyond's backstory, but there's a Lot of interesting things established in this, so. here's a bunch of notable quotes. if you're not already familiar, please keep in mind that the narrator of this novel is mello, writing at some point shortly before his death.

"L. The century's greatest detective. In light of his staggering mental abilities, L died an unjust and untimely death. In the public record alone he solved over 3,500 difficult crimes, and sent three times that number of degenerates to prison. He wielded incredible power, was able to mobilize every investigative bureau in the entire world, and was applauded generously for his efforts. And during it all, he never showed his face." (pg. 10)

"So, what you're reading now are my notes about L. It's a dying message, not from me, and not directed at the world. The person who will most likely read this first will probably be that big-headed twit Near. But if that's the case, I will not tell him to shred or burn these pages. If it causes him pain to discover that I knew things about L that he did not, then that's fine." (pg. 10-11)

"I am one of the few people who ever met L as L. When and how I met him...this is the single most valuable memory I have, and I will not write it here, but on that occasion L related to me three stories of his exploits, and the episode involving Beyond Birthday was one of these." (pg. 11)

"Obviously, it never came to light that L--and more importantly, Wammy's House, which raised me until I was fifteen--was deeply connected to the matter, but in fact, they were. L, on principle, never got involved in a case unless there were more than ten victims or a million dollars at stake, and this is the real reason why he belatedly, but aggressively, involved himself in this little case, which only ever had three or four victims. I will explain further in the pages that follow, but for this reason, the case of the Los Angeles BB murders is a watershed event for L, for me, and even for Kira. It was a monumental event for all of us. Why? Because this is the case where L first introduced himself as Ryuzaki." (pg. 11)

"For any one else but those two [Near and Kira], my identity may be of no interest, but I am the old world's runner-up, the best dresser that died like a dog, Mihael Keehl. I once called myself Mello and was addressed by that name, but that was a long time ago. Good memories and nightmares." (pg. 12)

"She [Naomi Misora] briefly considered the idea that Raye Penber, or someone else, was playing a practical joke on her, but she found it hard to believe that anyone would be so bold to sign their name as such. L never revealed himself in public or in private, but Misora had heard several horror stories about what happened to detectives who tried passing themselves off as L. It was safe to say that no one would dare use his name, even in jest." (pg. 18)

"This was L, so he was undoubtedly solving several other difficult cases all at once. Cases all over the world. For him, this case was just one of many parallel investigations. How else could he maintain his reputation as the world's greatest detective? The century's greatest detective, L. The detective with no clients." (pg. 35)

"L had earned a certain degree of hostility from other detectives, and the jealous ones called him a hermit detective, or a computer detective, but neither of these is a particularly accurate representation of the truth. Naomi Misora had also tended to think of L as an armchair detective, but in fact, L was quite the opposite, a very active, aggressive individual. [swoon.] While he had absolutely no interest in social connections, he was certainly not the kind of detective to shut himself up in a dark room with the shades drawn and refuse to come out. It is now common knowledge that the three great post war detectives, L, Eraldo Coil and Danuve were all actually the same person. Certainly, anyone reading these notes is almost certain to know...though they may not know that L engaged in a war with the real Eraldo Coil, and the real Danuve, and emerged victorious, claiming their detective codes. The details of this detective war I will save for another occasion, but in addition to those three names, L possessed many other detective codes. I have no idea how many, but there were at least three digits' worth. And quite a number of those were fairly public detectives--just like, as anyone reading these notes must know, he appeared before Kira, calling himself Ryuzaki or Ryuga Hideki. Of course, Naomi Misora had no way of knowing this, but in my opinion, the name L was, for him, just one of many. He never had any direct connection to that identity, he never thought of himself as L--it was just the most famous and most powerful of the many detective codes he used during his life. The name had its uses, but lacked obscurity. L had a real name that nobody knew, and nobody will ever know, but a name which only he knew never defined him. I sometimes wonder if L himself ever knew exactly which name was written in the Death Note, which name it was that killed him. I wonder." (pg. 43-44)

"If we must discuss why L so adamantly refused to reveal himself, we can explain it very simply: doing so was dangerous. Very dangerous. While the world leaders should make efforts to ensure the safety of all the finest minds, not only for detectives, the fact is that the current societal systems do not allow for this, and L believed he had no choice but to protect his mind under his own power. By simple arithmetic, L's ability in 2002 was the equivalent of five ordinary investigative bureaus, and seven intelligence agencies (and by the time he faced off against Kira, those numbers had leapt upward several more notches). This is easy to think of as a reason to respect and admire someone, but let me say this as clearly as possible: that much ability in one human is extremely dangerous. Modern danger management techniques rely heavily on defusing risk, but his very existence was the exact opposite. In other words, if someone was planning to commit a crime, they would greatly increase their chances of getting away with it by simply killing L before they began. That was why L hid his identity. Not because he was shy, or because he never left the house. To ensure his own safety. For a detective of L's ability, self-preservation and the preservation of world peace were one and the same, and it would not be correct to describe his actions as cowardly or self-centered." (pg. 69 nice)

"So whenever L was working, he would usually have someone else as his public face--and in this particular case, the FBI agent Naomi Misora was filling that role." (pg. 70)

"Beyond Birthday had the eyes of a shinigami congenitally. It was not particularly difficult for him to track down people with the initials B.B. or find people who were fated to die on a certain day at a certain time." (pg. 94)

"Normally contact with a shinigami was a prerequisite for acquisition, but Beyond Birthday had traded nothing--he had seen through those eyes since before he could remember. He knew your name before you said it. He knew the time of death of every person he met." (pg. 94)

"You might think [the eyes] would hardly be useful without a Death Note, but that is simply not the case. The ability to see someone's remaining life is the ability to see death. Death, death, death. Beyond Birthday lived his life unceasingly reminded that all humans would eventually die. From the time he was born he knew the day his father would be attacked by a thug and die, knew the day his mother would die in a train crash. He had these eyes before he was born, which is why he called himself Beyond Birthday. Which is why a child as strange as he was taken in by our home, sweet home--Wammy's House. He was B. The second child in Wammy's House." (pg. 94-95)

"The competition between L and B. L and B's puzzle. 'If L's a genius, then B's an extreme genius. If L's a freak, then B's an extreme freak. Now it's time to get ready. There are things I must do before B can surpass L. Henh henh henh henh.' This thought was the only thing that made him laugh without needing to think about it. And those that know will recognize the laugh of the shinigami. Still grinning to himself, he faced the mirror, brushed his hair, and began applying his makeup. The reflection of himself in the mirror. Himself. As always, he could not see his own time of death. No more than he could see the death of the world." (pg. 96)

"We were raised at Wammy's House in England, in Winchester, as L's successors, as L's alternatives, but that does not mean we knew anything more about L than anyone else. Including myself, only a few of us ever met L as L, and even I knew nothing about L before he met Watari--Quillish Wammy, the genius inventor who founded Wammy's House. Nobody knows what's going on in L's head. But even so, I know how Watari felt. Looking at L's incredible talents from the perspective of an inventor--of course he wanted to make a copy, of course he wanted to create a backup. Anyone would feel the same. As I have already explained, L never appeared in public. L knew that his own death would increase the crime rate all over the world by a few dozen percentage points. But what if they could copy him? What if they could make a backup? That was us. L's children, gathered from all corners of the world.

"But even for a genius like Watari, creating a fake L was easier said than done. Even for Near and I, who were said to be the closest to L...the more we tried to be like him, the closer we got, the father away he was, like chasing a mirage. So I hardly need to tell you what it was like when Wammy's House was first founded, when he was still experimenting. The first child, A, was unable to handle the pressure of living up to L and took his own life, and the second child, Beyond Birthday, was brilliant and deviant. B stood for Backup.

"But B tried to surpass L, not become him...no, that might not be right. I have no way of knowing the inner workings of his mind. He...their generation was not like the fourth generation, with Near and I, all the children bound only to the code with the serial L. They were prototypes, never even given the L code, expected to fail. I prefer to refrain from idle speculation based on my own experiences, but, well, Beyond Birthday may have thought something like this: As long as there was L, B would never be L. As long as the original existed, the copy was always a copy." (pg. 104-105)

"The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases. L.A.B.B.--L is After Beyond Birthday. This reading is why I think this name is so much closer to the killer's intentions than the Wara Ningyo Murders, or the Los Angeles Serial Locked Room Killings. I wasn't talking about the names on a purely stylistic basis. Whether Beyond Birthday had put that much thought into it I have no idea, but if he had a specific reason for choosing to commit his murders in L.A., then that is probably why. I am sure he had a much more personal obsession with L as an individual than Near or I ever did. I can understand why someone would become a criminal in order to fight against a detective, which is why I can write something like this, but even so. What did he hope to accomplish by killing unrelated people? Or perhaps B simply wanted to meet L. Then he could use the eyes of the shinigami he'd been born with and see L's real name, see when L would die. He would be able to figure out who L was. Beyond Birthday had never told anyone that he had the eyes of a shinigami, and it would not surprise me at all if he believed himself to be some kind of shinigami." (pg. 105-106)

"Beyond Birthday challenged L. And L accepted the challenge. To put it bluntly, the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases were nothing but an internal struggle, a civil war within our home, sweet home-- Wammy's House. Unfortunate for the victims that got mixed up in it, but even if Beyond Birthday had not killed them, all those victims were fated to die that day, at that time, for some other reason, so logically and morally, their deaths were unavoidable. So in the strictest sense of the word, the only one who really got mixed up in their war was Naomi Misora." (pg. 106)

"L was said to never move on a case unless there were more than ten victims or a million dollars at stake. The only exceptions to this were cases at difficulty level L (extremely fitting), or when L had personal reasons compelling him to get involved. The Los Angeles BB Murders were both of these. I hardly need to point out the difficulty by this stage of the story, and L was essentially fighting his own dead copy. [harsh, dude.] The current head of Wammy's House had told Quillish Wammy/Watari, who had told L about B's disappearance in May, and ever since L had been looking for him even as he solved other cases. Wammy's House only knew him as B--they did not know his real name, Beyond Birthday, so this search was near impossible, but L knew who the killer was. He had not been looking for a killer so much as he was looking for a case. L had been waiting, expecting Beyond Birthday to do something to challenge him. L could move any policeman in the world, but in this case, he could not ask anyone for help except Naomi Misora...more than likely, for this reason. I don't think L really put that much stock in honor, but everyone is embarrassed by their own sins, and nobody wants those missteps to become public knowledge. L was the goal of everyone in Wammy's House. Every one of us wanted to surpass him. To step over him. To step on him. M did, N did, and B did. M as a challenger, N as a successor. B as a criminal." (pg. 116-117)

"No matter what she did, she had no way of knowing. That this killer, Beyond Birthday, could tell someone's name and time of death just by looking at their face, that he had been born with the eyes of a shinigami--she had no way of knowing that fake names were useless with him, completely and utterly pointless. How could she have known? Even Beyond Birthday himself could not explain how he had been born with the eyes of the shinigami, how he could use them with no payment, with no arrangement. Neither Misora nor L knew why, and, obviously, neither do I. The closest thing to an explanation I can offer is that there are shinigami stupid enough to drop their notebooks in our world, so there might well be shinigami stupid enough to drop their eyes." (pg. 193-140)

"'So, Naomi Misora...' said L, wrapping up. But Misora hastily stammered, 'Um, er, L...' but then she hesitated, not sure if she should ask this or not. 'You...know the killer, right?' 'Yes, as I said. He is B.' 'I don't mean like that...I mean, he's someone you know personally?' On the 16th, L had said that he had known the killer was B, and she had sort of known ever since, but two days before, L had said something that changed her guess to conviction. Whatever you do, please catch the killer. The century's greatest detective, L, would never say that about some ordinary indiscriminate serial killer. And the way his letter was just one letter long... 'Yes,' the synthetic voice agreed." (pg. 144-145)

"'I have nothing to do with him,' L said. 'To be completely accurate, I do not even know B. He is simply someone I am aware of. But none of this affects my judgement. Certainly, I was interested in this case, and began to investigate it because I knew who the killer was. But that did not alter the way I investigated it, or the manner in which my investigation proceeded. Naomi Misora, I cannot overlook evil. I cannot forgive it. It does not matter if I know the person who commits evil or not. I am only interested in justice.'" (pg. 145)

"My great and respected predecessor, the man whose actions were a strong influence on me personally, B, B.B., Beyond Birthday--obviously, I need hardly explain again that the murders themselves were not his purpose. So what was he doing? Again, I hardly need to explain--he was challenging the man he copied, the century's greatest detective L. A matter of winning or losing. A contest." (pg. 159)

"Since L could solve every case no matter how challenging, if he created a case so difficult that L as unable to solve it, B would have defeated L." (pg. 159)

"He knew that the moment he took action Wammy's House and Watari would alert L, so he did not even bother trying to stop them. He could only guess at which stage of his plan L would start to come after him, so he prepared things carefully, ready for L's entrance at any point." (pg. 159)

"B approached Naomi Misora, calling himself Rue Ryuzaki. Rue Ryuzaki--L.L. For anyone from Wammy's House, there could be no higher goal than identifying yourself with that letter--and Beyond Birthday seized this case as his chance. even Naomi Misora knew what had happened to detectives falsely identifying themselves as L, and B was from Wammy's House, so he knew this better than anyone--so this choice suggests the strength of his decision. He never once intended to survive--had had made up his mind. He was ready." (pg. 160) [trans. note: the name "Rue" in Japanese, ルエ (ru-e), is an anagram of エル (e-ru), which is how L is pronounced.]

"Naturally, his face and fingerprints would burn as well--he had always disguised himself with heavy makeup while he was with Misora, and he never left a picture behind, so even if someone directly affiliated with Wammy's House inspected the body, they would have no idea that Rue Ryuzaki/Beyond Birthday was B from Wammy's House. He had left nothing to connect Beyond Birthday to B." (pg. 162)

"B was presenting the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases to L as a case that could never be solved. That L could never solve. In other words, he had never prepared any clear solution to it--since the killer had committed suicide, disguised as the fourth victim, there was no longer a killer to catch, and no clues left to catch him with." (pg. 163)

"My poor, poor predecessor. Not only was he utterly and completely defeated, but he survived, driving home his embarrassment...he must have longed for death. Accept my condolences, B." (pg. 169-170)

"If I had space left over I had intended to carry right on into the other two stories I heard from L: the story of the detective war between the three greatest detectives, all solving that infamous bio-terror case, with guest appearances by the last of the alphabet, the first X to the first Z from Wammy's House; and the story of how the world's greatest inventor, Quillish Wammy, aka Watari, had first met L, then about eight year's old--the case that gave birth to the century's greatest detective, the Winchester Mad Bombings that occurred just after the third World War. But however objectively I look at things, I do not have the space or the time. Oh well." (pg. 170)

"She had spoken to L only once after the killer was arrested. He thanked her for helping to solve the case, and told her just a little about the background of the case. That B had been a candidate to succeed L, and that the pressure of that had driven him off track." (pg. 171)

"And a few years after his arrest, on January 21st, 2004, serving a life sentence in a California prison, Beyond Birthday died of a mysterious heart attack." (pg. 173)

C-KIRA: (read here)

near grief :pensive: pretty sure this was animated in the anime movie thing?? tbh i still need to watch that. Very interesting as some of the most recent post-main story lore we get about wammy's imo. less quotes now + more summarizing since these are just comics

near has apparently only "talked" to L once (in quotes since he didn't actually say anything, just sat in the back of the room doing a puzzle the entire time. real asf girl)

during this "conversation," roger or one of the orphanage heads set up the usual L screen + a camera/mic so that L could see all the kids and answer their questions.

notably, mello & near didn't ask any questions, just lurked in the back watching L with a "nasty look in [their] eyes," which near assumes is what made him pick them to be his top successors, considering the fact that he didn't actually look at any of their data. (somewhat seems to imply that L didn't actually give a shit about grades or anything like that when picking his main successors?)

while answering questions, near is caught off guard by one of L's answers. to transcribe it all directly here--

NEAR (NARRATING): At the time, I didn't think L would put it so bluntly. L: It's not a sense of justice. L: Figuring out difficult cases is my hobby. If you measured good and evil deeds by current laws, I would be responsible for many crimes. L: The same way you all like to solve mysteries and riddles, or clear video games more quickly... For me too, its simply prolonging something I enjoy doing. L: That's why I only take on cases that pique my interest. It's not justice at all. And if it means being able to clear a case, I don't play fair, I'm a dishonest, cheating human being, who hates losing...

not quite the monster speech, but fascinating all the same. near seems to imply that this answer sent some kids into a despair spiral, but it actually caused him to like L more and more, feeling that he was, "exactly the kind of person who wanted to achieve his own goals." kinda goes against the HTR13 ohba comment? shrug

The Wammy's House/L's One Day: (read here)

honestly i interpret these comics as like. canon crack fic. but anyways, here's the established L lore included in these two.

L was taken into wammy's as a nameless orphan at an unknown but likely quite young age

very soon after arriving he beats up all the other kids he meets--

he is "utterly incompatible," with all the other kids and monopolizes all the things he likes simply cause he's stronger than them and presumably could fight them for it-- naturally, he ends up usually just playing by himself

notably, this all establishes that L isn't the first kid at wammy's, that there was already at least one generation of older kids living there before he got there (and could eventually turn it into an L successor creating machine)

once watari realizes that L has some outstanding mental abilities, he gives him his own private room and a computer. afterwards, L spends most of his time sitting in front of the puter by himself

L requests that watari buy 1 million pounds with Japanese yen and tells him which stocks to buy, causing his assets to reach "almost 20,000 times the original amount," in two years. visually this is depicted as happening when L is still quite young

several years later, L stumbles across a serial murder case in the news, which is the first he solves, starting his new career path

-

L can stay awake for 100+ hours and then gets over it by sleeping for like 17 hours. pictures also may imply that he doesn't actually sleep in a bed, but just lies down sideways in his chair. RIP yotsuba light's perfectly designed sleep schedule

L also shits/pisses in the same position he usually sits in (frog-pose), facing the tank south park style

he is a big fan of cleanliness!! human washing machine etc. etc. honestly i think this is just another way for him to hold that same crouched position

text says he always has, "ten or so identical sets of clothes prepared for him," since he's picky about it, but the art itself shows way more than ten. also rare shirtless L moment?? (watari helps)

L does in fact go outside!! he likes roller coasters/theme parks, swinging, art galleries, live music, etc. though most of the time he just sits in his room thinking thru shit n solving cases.

[rootedinrevisions]

A Holiday to Remember

SUMMARY: When plans with your family fall through, an unexpected invitation leads you to spending Christmas with Glen - and his lively, close-knit family. You find yourself swept up in the warmth of holiday traditions and the undeniable pull of a connection you never saw coming. Between stolen moments under twinkling lights and whispered confessions, the boundaries of friendship blur, leaving you to wonder if this Christmas could be the start of something extraordinary or just a fleeting holiday dream.

A/N: So I was hoping to have this out before or on Christmas but then I got writer's block and struggled to finish it. And then I got inspiration...maybe too much inspiration. I watched Anyone But You and then a couple Hallmark movies so this definitely has a rom-com/cheesy Hallmark vibe to it. That's also why this is so long because as I was watching those movies I got ideas for moments to add to the story. But hopefully you all enjoy this!

WARNINGS: Some light cursing, maybe? Otherwise I don't think there's any warnings. Just 17k words of cute fluffy wholesomeness.

WORD COUNT: 17.5k (I got a little carried away with this one.)

TAGS: In Comments

The warm glow of string lights hung delicately along the restaurant's windows, casting a cozy hue on the bustling Los Angeles sidewalk. You took a deep breath, smoothing your sweater as you stepped inside, the gentle hum of conversation and clinking glasses enveloping you.

Approaching the host stand, you offered a polite smile. "Hi, I’m here for Glen Powell’s reservation."

The host, a young woman with a sleek bob and a professional smile, glanced at her list before nodding. "Of course. Right this way." She grabbed a menu and gestured for you to follow her through the dimly lit dining room.

As you weaved between tables, your nerves fluttered faintly, though you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like this was anything new—just dinner with Glen. Something you’d done dozens of times.

The host led you to a table tucked in the back corner, offering a little more privacy from the busy main floor. Glen spotted you almost immediately. He set his phone down and stood up, his familiar, easy grin spreading across his face as he opened his arms.

“There she is,” he said warmly, pulling you into a hug as soon as you reached him. His cologne—a blend of something woodsy and clean—wrapped around you, as comforting as the embrace itself.

“Sorry I’m late,” you murmured against his shoulder before pulling back. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

He waved off your apology as you both sat down, his smile never faltering. “You’re in L.A.—isn’t traffic always a nightmare?” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the edge of the table. “Besides, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

The way his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long made your stomach flutter, but you quickly pushed the feeling aside. It was Glen, your friend. Nothing more.

You picked up the menu and skimmed over the options, even though you weren’t really focusing on the words. Glen sat across from you, flipping his own menu open but still managing to glance your way every few moments.

“So,” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “How’s the movie coming along? Are you still filming, or are you finally getting some time to breathe?”

Glen chuckled softly, setting the menu down as he leaned back in his chair. “We wrapped a few days ago, actually. Post-production is in full swing now, so it’s out of my hands now. Now I can take a break and get some normalcy.”

“Normalcy,” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “For you, that probably means jetting off somewhere, doesn’t it?”

He smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Okay, maybe my version of ‘normal’ is a little skewed. But I’m just going back to Austin for a few days. Nothing too crazy. What about you? How’s work? Are they letting you off the hook at all this holiday season?”

You sighed, your eyes drifting back to the menu as you tried to keep your voice light. “It’s fine. Busy, as always. But I guess that’s better than having nothing to do, right?”

He frowned slightly, studying you with an intensity that made you squirm just a little. “You sure you’re doing okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “I’m good. It’s just—work has been hectic, and I haven’t really had time to think about the holidays.”

His brow furrowed. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re not going home for Christmas.”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “It’s just… complicated,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “My family’s so far away, and with work, I just couldn’t make the timing work. So, yeah, I’ll be here this year. But it’s not a big deal.”

Glen’s jaw tightened, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “You’re spending Christmas alone?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’ll survive.”

“No way,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “That’s not happening.”

You blinked, startled by his sudden intensity. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re coming with me,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “To Texas. You can’t spend Christmas alone—that’s just… wrong.”

“Glen,” you began, already shaking your head. “I can’t just crash your family’s holiday. That’s not fair to them—or to you.”

“They’d love you,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And it’s not crashing if you’re invited. Which you are. Officially. Come on, what’s holding you back?”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but the way he was looking at you—earnest, determined, like he wouldn’t take no for an answer—made the words catch in your throat.

“It’s just a couple of days,” he added, his voice softening now. “And I promise, it’ll be fun. Think of it as an adventure.”

You hesitated, your resolve wavering under the weight of his sincerity. Maybe, just maybe, he was right.

“Glen, I can’t just pack up and leave,” you said, trying to keep your tone firm. “I only have a couple of days off for the holiday, and—”

“Perfect,” he interrupted with a grin. “I’m only staying three days anyway. We’ll head out the morning of the 23rd, and we’ll be back by the 26th.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s not that simple. Do you know how expensive last-minute flights are right now? Not to mention the hassle of even finding one—everything’s probably booked solid.”

His grin didn’t falter. “I’ll help you find a flight. Hell, I’ll even cover it if that’s what’s holding you back.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Glen, no. You’re not paying for my ticket.”

“Why not? Consider it my Christmas gift to you,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a casual shrug, as if he hadn’t just offered something outrageous.

You scoffed. “You’re insane.”

“I’m resourceful,” he corrected, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “And if it really comes down to it, I’ll fly you there myself.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head. “Now that seems like a gross misuse of your pilot’s license.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but his determination was starting to chip away at your defenses. “Glen, I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t want to intrude on your family’s holiday. It’s their time with you, and I’d just be—”

“A welcome guest,” he cut in, his voice softer now. “Trust me, they’d love to have you there. My mom’s been asking when she’s going to meet my mysterious ‘friend’ I talk about anyway. This is the perfect chance.”

Your cheeks warmed at that, and you looked away, suddenly very interested in the pattern on your napkin. “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” he urged, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. “It’ll be fun. You’ll get to relax, eat some great food, and experience the chaos that is my family at Christmas. What do you have to lose?”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let this go. “What about the fact that I’ll probably end up sharing a room with one of your nieces or sleeping on the couch? Not exactly my idea of a restful holiday.”

“Wrong again,” he said with a triumphant grin. “We will be staying at my place. I have plenty of space. I’ll even take the couch if you want the nice bed.”

You laughed despite yourself, the mental image of Glen curled up on his own couch making it impossible to stay serious. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re running out of excuses,” he pointed out, his grin widening. “So? What’s it going to be?”

You hesitated, your gaze meeting his. There was something in his eyes—an openness, a genuine warmth—that made it hard to say no.

“Fine,” you said finally, throwing your hands up in defeat. “You win. I’ll go.”

His face lit up, and he reached across the table to squeeze your hand. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

“You’d better be right,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

* * * * *

The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow across the Austin skyline as Glen navigated the bustling city streets, the hum of his truck filling the comfortable silence. You sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring out the window at the vibrant murals and quirky storefronts that zipped past. Normally, you’d be chatting nonstop, asking Glen a million questions about the city or teasing him about his questionable playlist choices. But now, your hands fidgeted in your lap, and your lips pressed into a thin line, your mind elsewhere.

“You’re kind of quiet over there. You’ve said about five words since we got here,” Glen remarked, his voice light but tinged with curiosity. He glanced at you briefly, his brows furrowing in concern before turning his attention back to the road. “That’s gotta be some kind of record for you.”

You blinked, his comment pulling you from your thoughts. Turning to face him, you tried to muster a small smile. “Sorry. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Glen didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh,” he said, his tone skeptical. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with meeting my family, would it?”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat. “Maybe a little.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Relax! You’ve got nothing to worry about, you know. They’re going to love you. I’m the one they’re stuck with, remember?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, but the sound was short-lived. “It’s not that I’m worried they won’t like me,” you admitted. “It’s just... I don’t know. What if I say something dumb? Or trip over the Christmas tree? Or—”

“Hey,” Glen interrupted, his voice gentle. At a red light, he reached over and placed a warm hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re overthinking this. My family’s not expecting perfection, okay? They’re just excited to meet the person I’ve been talking about nonstop for the last couple of months.”

Your eyes widened at his confession, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve been talking about me?”

Glen grinned, the light turning green as he started driving again. “Obviously. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t brag about how great you are?” He paused, then added with a teasing smirk, “Although I may have left out the part where you can’t handle spicy food. Don’t let my mom’s salsa scare you off, alright?”

That earned a genuine laugh from you, and Glen shot you a quick, satisfied look before turning his attention back to the road.

As the city gave way to sprawling suburbs and then the open, winding roads on the edge of Austin, Glen’s demeanor remained steady—calm, reassuring, and lighthearted. He pointed out landmarks along the way, sharing stories about his time growing up in the area and cracking jokes to pull you out of your nervous headspace.

“You doing okay over there?” he asked after a while, glancing at you again.

“Yeah,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Putting up with you?” Glen repeated, feigning offense. “You think I invited you out here because I had to? Please.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat. Before you could dwell on it too much, Glen reached over to nudge your shoulder playfully. 

“Seriously, relax,” he said with a grin. “You’ll fit right in. And if anyone gives you a hard time, they’ll have to answer to me.”

You smiled at that, the knot in your stomach loosening slightly. Glen had a way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when your own thoughts tried to convince you otherwise.

When he finally pulled into the gravel driveway of his house, nestled on a quiet piece of land just outside the city, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Glen parked the truck and turned to you with an encouraging smile.

“Alright,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “First stop: my place. Let’s drop off your stuff and then we’ll head over to my parents’ house. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath as you climbed out of the truck. “Sounds good.”

Glen led the way up the front porch steps, his boots thudding lightly against the wood. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let you enter first.

“Welcome to Casa de Glen,” he said with a grin, sweeping his arm theatrically as you stepped inside.

The interior was exactly what you’d imagined—a perfect blend of cozy and modern. Warm wood floors stretched throughout the open-concept space, and the living room featured a large leather couch and a stone fireplace that was clearly the centerpiece of the room. A framed poster of Top Gun: Maverick hung on one wall, balanced by shelves filled with books, photos, and a few sports trophies.

“Wow,” you said, taking it all in. “It’s nice. It feels... you.”

“That’s what I was going for,” he said, closing the door behind you. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

He guided you through the living room and into the kitchen, which was sleek and modern with stainless steel appliances and a large island in the center. “This is where the magic happens,” he said, patting the countertop. “By magic, I mean reheating leftovers and making the occasional breakfast taco.”

You laughed, running your hand along the cool stone of the counter. “Very impressive.”

He pointed out a small office that doubled as a gym, then led you to the back door, which opened onto a sprawling patio overlooking a modest backyard. Twinkling string lights were strung across the patio, and a firepit sat off to the side, surrounded by chairs.

“This is great,” you said, stepping out onto the patio and taking in the peaceful view.

“It’s my favorite spot,” Glen admitted, leaning against the doorframe. “If you need to escape the chaos over the next few days, feel free to sneak out here.”

The offer warmed your heart, but before you could respond, Glen pushed off the doorframe and motioned back inside. “Come on, let’s get your bags upstairs.”

He carried your suitcase up the staircase, which was adorned with simple but tasteful decorations—a mix of family photos, framed movie posters, and a few awards he’d picked up over the years. At the top of the stairs, he turned to the left and opened a door.

“This is the guest room,” he said, stepping aside to let you enter.

The room was cozy, with a plush queen-sized bed covered in a navy-blue comforter, a small desk by the window, and a few decorative touches that made it feel welcoming—a basket of rolled-up blankets, a lamp with a warm glow, and a stack of books on the nightstand.

“This is nice,” you said, setting your carry-on bag down by the bed.

“I figured you’d want your own space,” Glen said, setting your suitcase by the desk. “Bathroom’s just down the hall, and there are extra towels in the closet if you need them.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.

He hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether to say something, before giving you a small smile. “Alright, let me show you the rest of the upstairs.”

You followed him back out into the hall, where he pointed out the bathroom and a smaller guest room that had been converted into a second office. Finally, he led you to the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

“And this is where the magic really happens,” he joked, pushing open the door to reveal a spacious room with a king-sized bed, a walk-in closet, and a sliding door that led to a private balcony.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “You and your magic. I’m starting to think you have a pretty loose definition of the word.”

“Hey, I have my moments,” he said with a wink.

He led you back downstairs, where the tour ended in the living room. “Alright, that’s the grand tour,” he said, clapping his hands together. “What do you think?”

“It’s great,” you said honestly. “It feels very...you. Like even if I didn’t know this was your house I could see you fitting in here.”

And you meant it. You’d been to Glen’s place in Los Angeles before. And it was comfortable and fine enough. But it felt more like a bachelor pad. But this house here in Austin felt like him. It felt like home.

“Good,” he said, his smile softening. “I’m glad you like it. Now, you ready to meet the chaos that is my family?”

Your stomach flipped nervously, but Glen’s easy smile was enough to settle you. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said.

“Perfect,” he said, grabbing his keys off the counter. “Let’s do this.”

*****

The truck rumbled to a stop in front of the charming two-story house, its exterior painted a warm cream color with dark green shutters. Wreaths adorned the windows, and strings of twinkling lights outlined the roof, giving it a postcard-worthy holiday glow. Glen shifted the truck into park, but before he could even cut the engine, the front door burst open, and a wave of people spilled out onto the porch.

“Here we go,” Glen muttered with a grin, glancing at you. “Brace yourself.”

Your heart raced as his mom was the first to step forward, her arms already open as she made her way down the steps. Cyndy Powell was the picture of warmth, her hair perfectly styled, and her face glowing with excitement. Behind her, Glen’s dad, Glen Sr., stood with an easygoing smile, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His sisters weren’t far behind—Leslie, the youngest, bounced on her toes with a wide grin, while Lauren, the oldest, followed at a more measured pace, one hand gripping the tiny hand of Glen’s nephew. Glen’s niece trailed behind, clinging to Lauren’s husband.

“Glen!” Cyndy called, waving both hands like she hadn’t seen her son in years, even though he’d assured you it had only been a couple of weeks.

You opened your door cautiously as Glen hopped out of the truck, meeting his mom halfway with a hug. 

“Hey, Mom,” he said, his voice filled with affection.

Cyndy pulled back just enough to cup his face. “You look too thin,” she said, making him laugh. “Are you eating?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Glen assured her, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You hesitated for half a second before stepping out of the truck, suddenly feeling like every pair of eyes was on you. Cyndy’s expression shifted immediately to one of pure delight as she made a beeline for you.

“And you must be the one Glen keeps telling us about!” she said, pulling you into a hug before you could even respond. “Oh, it’s so good to finally meet you. I’m Cyndy.”

“Hi, Mrs. Powell,” you managed, your voice slightly muffled by the hug. “It’s really nice to meet you, too.”

“Oh, please, call me Cyndy,” she insisted, pulling back to hold you at arm’s length. “You’re even prettier than Glen said.”

“Mom,” Glen groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he came to stand beside you.

“What?” Cyndy said innocently before ushering you both toward the rest of the group. “Come on, everyone’s dying to meet her.”

One by one, you were introduced—Glen Sr., who gave you a firm handshake and a kind smile; Leslie, who immediately wrapped you in a hug and declared you were “way too cool to be hanging out with Glen”; Lauren, who gave you a warm smile and said she’d heard so much about you; and finally, Lauren’s twins, who peeked out from behind their dad shyly until Glen crouched down to scoop them up in a playful hug.

“Alright, alright,” Glen said, standing with a twin on each hip as he turned back to his family. “Let her breathe, would you? She’s not used to all this chaos.”

“Chaos?” Cyndy said, feigning offense. “This is love, Glen. Pure holiday love.”

You laughed, but Glen caught the way your shoulders tensed, and he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your lower back. “You okay?” he asked softly, his tone just for you.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, offering him a reassuring smile. “It’s just... a lot.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “I’ll run interference if I have to.”

Before you could respond, Cyndy was ushering everyone inside, rattling off questions about the drive and insisting you must be starving after traveling all day. You followed the group into the house, which was every bit as welcoming as its exterior—soft, cozy furniture, a roaring fire in the living room, and the scent of something sweet wafting from the kitchen.

You shrugged out of your coat and Glen stepped closer, his hands brushing against your shoulders as he helped slide it off. The gesture was so natural, so easy, that it sent a little flutter through your chest.

“Here, I’ll take that.” His voice was casual, but the faint smile he gave you as he carefully hung your coat on the rack was anything but.

As he turned back to you, Cyndy leaned in with a knowing smile, her voice low enough that only you could hear. “He’s been so excited to bring you home. You should’ve heard him talk about it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the comment, your cheeks warming as her words sank in. “Oh,” you managed, a little breathless.

Cyndy’s hand lingered on your arm for just a moment, her expression soft with unmistakable affection. “You’ll see,” she added with a wink, before stepping away to call to her husband about something in the kitchen.

When you turned back to Glen, he was watching you, his head tilted slightly. “What was that about?” he asked, his tone light but his curiosity clear.

“Oh, nothing,” you said quickly, trying to wave it off. But you couldn’t quite keep the smile from tugging at your lips—or the slight flush from creeping up your neck.

Glen’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Uh-huh. Sure.” He didn’t push, though, instead gesturing for you to follow him. “Come on. Let’s grab something to drink before everyone starts peppering you with questions.”

The moment lingered as you followed him into the house, Cyndy’s words echoing in your mind. The idea of Glen talking about you—being excited to bring you here—was hard to shake. Maybe it was just his family’s charm, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that stayed on your face as Glen led the way.

* * * * *

With a steaming mug of cocoa warming your hands, you smiled politely as Glen's mom chatted animatedly about the Powell family Christmas traditions. You nodded along, but the flurry of introductions and the cozy chaos of his family had you feeling a little overwhelmed. Sensing your chance for a breather, you leaned toward Glen.

“Excuse me for a minute,” you murmured, setting your mug down on the counter.

He shot you a curious look but nodded, letting you slip away.

You wandered down the hall, grateful for the moment to collect yourself. After freshening up in the restroom, you made your way back toward the kitchen, but you stopped short as voices drifted toward you from the other side of the doorway.

“...she’s adorable, Glen. Seriously,” one of his sisters—Lauren, you thought—said with a teasing lilt.

“And you brought her home for Christmas?” Leslie chimed in, her voice lilting with mock surprise.

Glen groaned, and you could practically hear him rubbing his hand over his face. “Guys, come on. We’re just friends.”

“Right,” Lauren said, drawing the word out like she didn’t believe him for a second. “Just friends, and yet you insisted she come here instead of spending Christmas alone. Sounds like something a boyfriend would do, don’t you think, Les?”

“Definitely boyfriend behavior,” Leslie agreed, clearly enjoying herself.

“You two are impossible,” Glen muttered, though his tone carried more amusement than frustration. “I didn’t want her to spend the holidays alone, okay?”

Your breath caught at his words, warmth spreading through your chest.

“Sure, sure,” Lauren said, her tone sly. “But just so you know, Mom’s already planning the wedding.”

Glen let out a sharp laugh. “There isn’t going to be a wedding. Let’s dial it back a little, huh? She’s nervous enough as it is without you two scaring her off.”

You took a step back, considering whether to linger a moment longer, but the sound of chairs scraping against the floor signaled that Glen’s sisters were on the move. Quickly, you stepped into the doorway, pretending you hadn’t heard a thing.

“Oh, there she is,” Leslie said with a grin as she and Lauren passed you.

Glen leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, his brow lifting as you stepped inside. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and genuine.

You nodded, though your gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than you intended. “Yeah, just needed a minute. Your family’s really nice, by the way.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “They’re a handful, but they mean well.”

You walked over to retrieve your cocoa, the rich chocolate aroma grounding you. “They seem really excited to have everyone together.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of their thing,” Glen said, watching you closely. “What about you? You hanging in there?”

You shrugged lightly, a small smile playing at your lips. “It’s a lot, but… in a good way. It’s been a while since I’ve been around a big family like this.”

Glen straightened, stepping closer so his arm brushed against yours. “Well, they already love you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. His grin widened, but before he could say more, his mom’s voice rang out from the living room, calling for him to help bring in the extra chairs for dinner.

He sighed dramatically, earning another laugh from you. “Duty calls,” he said, but his hand lightly touched your arm as he passed. “Don’t let them rope you into anything too crazy while I’m gone.”

You smiled, watching as he left the room. Something about being here—with him—felt unexpectedly right.

* * * * *

The kitchen buzzed with activity as Glen’s mom and sisters dove into dinner preparations. The smell of roasted turkey and fresh-baked rolls filled the air, making your stomach rumble despite the cocoa you’d just finished. Cyndy was meticulously checking the oven temperature, while Lauren and Leslie were chopping vegetables at the kitchen island.

“Need any help?” you asked hesitantly, stepping further into the room.

Lauren glanced up with a warm smile. “You’re sweet to offer, but trust me, this kitchen is already at max capacity.”

“Speak for yourself,” Leslie said, pointing her knife toward the pile of unpeeled carrots. “Here, grab a peeler. You can help me out before Mom has a meltdown over the timing.”

Cyndy turned from the oven, mock-offended. “I heard that!”

Leslie just smirked as she handed you a peeler and a couple of carrots. “Ignore her. She loves when we tease her. Keeps things interesting.”

You laughed softly and settled in next to Leslie, grateful for something to do with your hands.

“So, how are you holding up?” Leslie asked after a moment, her voice quieter, more personal.

You glanced at her, surprised by the question. “Oh, um… good, I think. Your family’s been really welcoming.”

“We’re loud, though,” Lauren chimed in, pausing her slicing to grin at you. “Hopefully Glen warned you about that.”

“It’s a good kind of loud,” you said honestly, feeling more at ease with them. “I’m just… not used to it, I guess.”

Leslie nudged you lightly with her elbow. “Well, if you can survive the Powell family Christmas chaos, you’re pretty much invincible.”

“Noted,” you said with a laugh, peeling another carrot.

Lauren tilted her head, studying you curiously. “So, how did you and Glen meet, anyway?”

You hesitated, glancing toward the doorway like Glen might walk in and save you. “We met through mutual friends,” you said carefully. “It’s kind of a long story, but we just… clicked, I guess.”

Leslie smirked, clearly enjoying the topic. “Clicked, huh? Like, just friends clicked? Or ‘maybe there’s something more’ clicked?”

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you focused intently on the carrot in your hand. “Definitely just friends,” you said quickly, your voice a little too firm.

“Hmm,” Lauren said, exchanging a look with Leslie.

Before they could press further, Glen walked in, carrying a couple of folding chairs from the garage. He stopped short when he noticed the three of you huddled together.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he set the chairs against the wall.

“Nothing,” Lauren said, her voice entirely too innocent.

Leslie shrugged. “Just getting to know your friend.”

Glen sighed, giving his sisters a pointed look before turning to you. “Don’t let them gang up on you. They’re relentless once they get started.”

“I think I’m holding my own,” you said with a small smile, though you were grateful for his presence.

“Good,” Glen said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “Because dinner’s almost ready, and if they scare you off before dessert, Mom’s going to kill them.”

The laughter that followed eased the lingering tension, and for the first time since you’d arrived, you felt like you were starting to find your footing amidst the whirlwind of the Powell family.

“Alright,” Cyndy said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get everything to the table before it gets cold.”

The dining room table was a feast for the senses. Platters of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables were arranged in the center, surrounded by bowls of cranberry sauce, rolls, and casseroles. Soft holiday music played in the background, and the warm glow of the chandelier added to the cozy atmosphere.

You found yourself seated between Glen and Lauren, while the twins took turns giggling and sneaking bites of their food despite their mom’s warnings to “at least wait for everyone to get their plate.”

The conversation started casually, with everyone complimenting Cyndy’s cooking and trading jokes about who had eaten the most last Christmas. It wasn’t long before the table was buzzing with overlapping chatter and bursts of laughter.

“So, what’s everyone’s plans for New Year’s?” Lauren asked as she helped her daughter cut her turkey into smaller pieces.

“Will and I are thinking of taking the kids to the park downtown for the fireworks,” Lauren said. “What about you, Glen?”

Glen shrugged, reaching for the mashed potatoes. “Haven’t decided yet. Depends on if this one’s dragging me somewhere” He nudged your shoulder with a playful grin.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not dragging you to anything. You keep inviting yourself to my plans.”

“Semantics,” he quipped, earning a chuckle from Leslie.

Cyndy, ever the gracious host, leaned toward you with a warm smile. “So, what do you usually do for the holidays with your family?”

You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question. “Well, when I can make it home, we usually have a quiet Christmas. Just my parents and my siblings. Lots of food, games, and, uh, my mom’s famous fudge.”

“That sounds lovely,” Cyndy said, her tone genuine. “You’ll have to share the fudge recipe sometime. Maybe we’ll add it to our dessert rotation next year.”

“I’d love to,” you said, feeling a little more at ease.

Throughout dinner, Glen made sure to keep you involved in the conversation, throwing in lighthearted jokes and even sharing an embarrassing story from high school that had everyone in stitches.

“Remember when Glen tried to sing karaoke at the Christmas talent show?” Leslie said, her face lighting up with glee.

“Oh, no,” Glen groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Lauren jumped in. “He thought he could hit the high notes in ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You.’ Spoiler alert: he couldn’t.”

The table erupted in laughter, and even you couldn’t hold back a giggle. Glen peeked at you through his fingers, feigning betrayal.

“Sorry,” you said between laughs. “But I need to hear this someday.”

“Not happening,” Glen said firmly, shaking his head.

By the time dessert was served—a towering plate of Cyndy’s homemade pecan pie—you were full, content, and starting to see why Glen loved spending the holidays here so much.

After dinner, the energy in the house began to settle. The twins had all but fallen asleep at the table, and Lauren and her husband said their goodbyes, bundling their sleepy children into coats before heading out for the night.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Lauren said, pulling you into a warm hug. “You did great tonight. Don’t let these guys scare you off.” She winked, glancing briefly at Glen.

With the house quieter, you, Glen, and Leslie remained behind to spend a little more time with his parents. Cyndy brought out another round of cocoa, insisting on adding an extra dollop of whipped cream for everyone.

The fire in the living room had burned low, but Glen Sr. stoked it back to life, filling the room with a warm glow. You took a seat on the couch near the hearth, your fingers curling around the mug of cocoa as you soaked in the comforting crackle of the flames.

The warmth of the fire helped, but the Texas winter chill still lingered, and you found yourself shivering slightly as you sipped your drink.

Glen, sitting in an armchair nearby, noticed immediately. Without a word, he stood and grabbed a thick, soft blanket draped over the back of the couch. Crossing the room, he carefully draped it over your shoulders, his hands lingering for a moment to ensure it was snug around you.

“Better?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, your heart warming at the small, thoughtful gesture. “Much better. Thank you.”

Instead of returning to his chair, Glen sat down beside you on the couch, the corner of the blanket brushing against his arm as he stretched out. The closeness was both comforting and a little distracting, the ease of his presence pulling you further into the moment.

Across the room, Cyndy and Glen Sr. shared a knowing look, their quiet conversation halting as they observed the two of you. Leslie, seated in the armchair Glen had vacated, leaned over to whisper something to her mom, her expression amused.

Glen Sr. gave a subtle shake of his head, murmuring something you couldn’t quite catch, though his tone held a hint of playful exasperation.

The whispers and exchanged glances didn’t go unnoticed by Glen, who shot his sister a pointed look. “You guys good over there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Totally,” Leslie replied, a little too quickly, her smile innocent in a way that wasn’t fooling anyone. “Just enjoying the show.”

You glanced between them, confused. “What show?”

“Nothing!” Cyndy said quickly, her tone light but clearly trying to steer the conversation away. “It’s just nice to see Glen bringing a friend home for the holidays.”

You felt your cheeks warm under her gaze, and Glen let out a small sigh, clearly used to his family’s antics.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

Leslie smirked but didn’t push further, and Cyndy changed the subject to talk about the Powell family’s Christmas morning traditions.

The room was dimly lit, the fire crackling softly in the background. The evening had settle dinto a quiet calm, with Glen sitting on the couch, his arm stretched across the backrest. Despite your best efforts to stay engaged in the chatter between Glen and his family, your eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment.

Cyndy and Leslie paused mid conversation when they noticed you were asleep. Your breathing was slow and even, your head nestled against Glen like it was the most natural thing in the world. Cyndy and Leslie exchanged a look, both already grinning.

“She’s so sweet,” Cyndy whispered, her voice barely above the crackling of the fire.

“And you’re adorable together,” Leslie added, leaning closer to her mom as if she were sharing a juicy secret.

Glen’s eyes flicked toward them, his lips tugging into a faint, knowing smirk. “We’re just friends,” he said, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing you.

Leslie arched a brow. “Sure, you are,” she teased, crossing her arms. “Because friends totally look at each other like that.”

“What are you even talking about?” Glen asked, rolling his eyes, though his free hand instinctively adjusted the blanket draped over you, tucking it more securely around your shoulders. You stirred slightly, leaning into him more, and his arm moved without hesitation, wrapping lightly around you to keep you comfortable.

“Like that,” Leslie said pointedly, gesturing at him with a playful smirk.

Cyndy’s eyes were full of warmth as she added, “Leslie’s right, honey. It’s the way you look at her. Like she’s the only person in the room.”

Glen sighed, running a hand through your hair but careful not to jostle you. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted softly, his gaze dropping to you as you slept peacefully against him. “Probably more than I should have.”

Leslie’s teasing grin shifted into genuine curiosity. “So what’s stopping you?”

“It’s not the right time,” Glen said, his voice low but thoughtful. “My schedule’s insane. The next six to eight months are booked solid with filming, press tours… I’d barely be around. Starting something with her when I know I don’t have the time to make it work or for it to be healthy? It doesn’t feel fair to her. Or to me.”

Cyndy tilted her head, her brows furrowed slightly. “But you’ve managed to keep your friendship going despite all that. You both make time for each other. If you were dating, it wouldn’t be that much different, would it?”

Leslie chimed in, “Exactly. You’ve already proven that you make her a priority, even with everything you’ve got going on. If you really like her—and it’s obvious you do—why not take the chance?”

Glen glanced down at you again, the flickering firelight casting a warm glow across your peaceful face. His arm tightened just slightly around you, as if the thought of letting you go, even metaphorically, was too hard to bear.

He didn’t respond right away, the weight of his family’s words settling in as he watched you. Maybe they had a point. But taking that leap still felt like a mountain he wasn’t sure he could climb—at least not yet.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally, his voice soft and a little distant.

Leslie opened her mouth, ready to press him further, but Cyndy gave her a gentle nudge and a pointed look. “Let it go, Leslie,” she said quietly. “He’ll figure it out when he’s ready.”

As they turned to leave the room, Cyndy glanced back at Glen one more time, her expression full of motherly understanding. Glen caught her look, gave her a small, grateful nod, and then shifted slightly to settle more comfortably against the couch, his arm still securely around you.

For now, he decided, this moment was enough.

The warmth of the fire flickered softly, casting golden light across the room. Between the gentle crackle of the logs and the soothing rhythm of your breathing, Glen found himself starting to relax in a way he hadn’t in weeks. Your head rested against his shoulder, and the weight of it, combined with the soft rise and fall of your chest, brought an unexpected sense of peace.

Glen shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you, but the movement only made you nestle closer, your arm brushing against his. He glanced down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. The firelight danced in his eyes as his mind wandered, replaying his mom and Leslie’s words.

She’s sweet.

You’re adorable together.

What’s stopping you?

His gaze lingered on you, and a soft sigh escaped him. He knew what they meant. Knew how easy it would be to let himself fall. Maybe he already had.

The fire crackled again, pulling him from his thoughts. The room was growing quieter, the warmth enveloping him like a cocoon. His head tilted back slightly, his eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. Despite his best efforts to stay awake, the comfort of the moment proved too much.

It wasn’t long before Glen’s breathing matched yours, slow and steady, his chin dipping slightly toward his chest as sleep overtook him. The two of you sat there, heads close, his arm still loosely draped around you while the blanket kept you both warm.

Some time later, Cyndy padded softly into the living room, a smile spreading across her face as she took in the scene. You were still tucked against Glen, your hand now resting lightly against his chest. Glen’s head leaned toward yours, his features relaxed in a way only sleep could bring.

Cyndy stood there for a moment, her heart warming at the sight. She grabbed another blanket from the linen closet and approached quietly, careful not to wake either of you. With practiced ease, she draped it gently over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders before stepping back.

She turned to the fireplace, stoking the remaining embers and making sure it was safely extinguished. The room dimmed as she turned off the lights, leaving only the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains.

Before heading to bed, she paused once more, her gaze softening as she looked back at the two of you. A small, knowing smile played on her lips as she shook her head lightly, then whispered to herself, “Just friends, huh?”

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving you and Glen to rest peacefully in the quiet glow of the night.

*****

The soft light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting a faint glow across the living room. Glen stirred, his body shifting slightly against the couch cushion as he blinked groggily, trying to orient himself. His eyes felt heavy, and for a moment, he couldn’t figure out why he felt so warm.

He shifted again, feeling something—or rather, someone—pressed against him. He froze, his heart skipping a beat as he realized he wasn’t alone.

Looking down, he saw you curled into his side, your front pressed snugly against his chest, your legs tangled with his. One blanket was wrapped around you, tucked in as though you’d done it instinctively, and another—one he didn’t even remember grabbing—covered both of you. His arm was draped protectively around you, his hand resting lightly against your back.

Your breath was warm against his neck, soft and even, and he could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat where your chest touched his. The realization sent a jolt of awareness through him. How had this happened? The last thing he remembered was sitting upright, with you asleep on his shoulder.

He let his head fall back onto the couch for a moment, exhaling slowly as he tried to make sense of it. Well, this is... comfortable, he thought wryly, though he couldn’t deny the quiet peace that came with waking up next to you.

As his brain started to wake up, he rubbed at his eyes, his other arm instinctively tightening around you as you shifted slightly in your sleep, murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out.

The sound of soft footsteps made him glance toward the archway leading to the kitchen. His parents stood there, his mom holding a coffee mug while his dad held the morning paper.

Cyndy stopped mid-step when she saw the two of you, her lips curling into a knowing smile she didn’t even try to hide. Glen groaned quietly, his free hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he looked up at them.

His dad raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well, good morning,” his dad said, his tone amused. “Sleep well, son?”

Cyndy swatted his dad lightly on the arm but didn’t say anything, her smile widening as she looked between Glen and you.

Glen cleared his throat, his voice low and rough from sleep. “Morning,” he muttered, trying not to move too much and wake you.

Cyndy stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You looked so peaceful last night. I didn’t have the heart to wake you,” she said, her gaze warm and teasing.

Glen gave her a look, half-exasperated and half-grateful. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmured dryly, though there was no heat in his words.

“You should probably wake her before the others come down,” his dad added with a chuckle, nodding toward the stairs. “Don’t want to give Leslie too much ammunition.”

Glen sighed, his eyes flicking back to you. You were still sound asleep, your face relaxed and peaceful against him. His dad wasn’t wrong—Leslie would have a field day if she saw this.

“Yeah, I’ll handle it,” he said quietly, shifting slightly to try and rouse you without startling you.

Cyndy leaned closer to her husband as they turned to head back to the kitchen, her voice just loud enough for Glen to catch. “I think they’re adorable,” she whispered.

Glen groaned again, though he couldn’t quite hide the small smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at you, still nestled against him.

Glen sighed softly and glanced down at you, his heart doing an odd little flip at the sight of you so peaceful against him. For a moment, he hesitated, not wanting to disturb you. You looked so content, your face relaxed and framed by a strand of hair that had fallen loose.

But his dad was right—he needed to wake you before anyone else saw this and started making jokes he’d never live down.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle. He shifted slightly, his hand moving to lightly brush against your shoulder. “Time to wake up.”

You stirred faintly but didn’t open your eyes, your brows furrowing as you shifted closer, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The movement sent a wave of warmth rushing through him, and for a split second, he froze, unsure how to handle the sudden closeness.

“Come on,” he tried again, his voice soft and laced with a hint of amusement now. “You’re going to miss breakfast.”

This time, you let out a soft hum of protest, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, “Five more minutes...”

Glen couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Come on, you need to wake up before the others come downstairs.”

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, and it took you a moment to register where you were. When you finally looked up at him, still half-asleep, your cheeks flushed as the realization hit.

“Oh,” you said softly, your voice hoarse with sleep. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Glen cut in quickly, his tone reassuring.

Your eyes dropped to where his arm was still draped around you, and you slowly began to sit up, the blanket falling away as you shifted. Glen helped, his hand steadying you as you moved, though he couldn’t quite hide the slight reluctance he felt at the loss of warmth.

“I, uh... hope I wasn’t too heavy,” you said, brushing a hand through your hair as you tried to smooth it down.

Glen smirked, leaning back against the couch. “You’re fine. But you do steal blankets, apparently,” he teased, motioning to the second blanket draped over him.

You blinked, confused, then looked down at the blanket and frowned. “Wait, where did that even come from?”

“Mom,” he said simply, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “She came in last night and covered us up. I think she wanted to make sure we didn’t freeze to death.”

Your cheeks reddened further, and you groaned softly, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh, great. So your mom saw us like that?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, reaching out to tug your hands away from your face, his smile softening. “She thought it was cute. So did Dad, for the record.”

“Wonderful,” you muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at your lips now.

Glen watched you for a moment before standing and stretching, his hand running through his hair as he glanced toward the kitchen. “Come on,” he said, offering you a hand. “Let’s get some coffee before Leslie sees us and decides to turn this into a running joke for the next decade.”

You laughed softly, taking his hand as he pulled you to your feet. His touch lingered for just a second longer than necessary before he let go, his gaze flicking to yours briefly before he led the way toward the kitchen.

As you and Glen walked into the kitchen, the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee hit you, immediately comforting in the way that only mornings at someone else's home could be. His parents were already seated at the island, sipping their own coffee, looking up with warm smiles as you entered.

“Good morning, you two,” his dad, Glen Sr., greeted with a grin, his voice low and warm.

“Morning,” you replied softly, moving to grab a mug from the cabinet. Glen’s mom, Cyndy, shot you a look, an almost mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, her voice friendly, yet filled with a knowing edge.

You nodded, your face flushing again as you took a seat next to Glen. “Yeah, I did. Thanks for the extra blanket.”

“Of course,” she said with a smile. “I couldn’t have you freezing to death in here.” She paused, her eyes flicking between you and Glen for a moment. “Though, I must say, it was nice to see you both so cozy last night.”

Glen let out an exaggerated groan, shaking his head. “Mom, please.”

You chuckled softly, looking over at him, your hand wrapped around your mug of coffee. “It’s fine,” you said, offering a reassuring smile. “No harm done.”

His dad chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “You’re lucky. I don’t see Glen like that much.”

“I bet,” you responded, teasing, taking a sip of your coffee. “I wouldn’t have guessed he’s such a softy.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Cyndy said with a wink, earning a playful nudge from her husband.

Glen rolled his eyes, then leaned back against the counter, his eyes flicking to you. “So, I was thinking we should head back to my place in a bit,” he said, casually stirring his coffee. “We’ll change clothes, then I’ll bring you back here. Sound good?”

You nodded, sipping your coffee again, grateful for the warmth in your hands. “That sounds perfect.”

Leslie walked in at that moment, still wearing her pajamas, her eyes narrowing in on you and Glen still in the clothes you had on yesterday. “Did you guys sleep here last night?”

Glen groaned again, clearly not ready for another round of teasing. “Leslie, please, not now.”

But Leslie was already grinning, turning to their parents. “They fell asleep and slept on the couch, didn’t they?”

“Mind your own business,” Glen said, his voice half-amused, half-annoyed, as he stood up from the counter. He shot a glance at you, his expression softening. “Alright, let’s go grab some things from my place.

As you and Glen walked toward the door, you could hear Leslie's voice rise from the kitchen, her tone laced with playful teasing.

"I mean, it’s so obvious," she said, her voice carrying easily to where you both were standing.

"I heard that, Leslie!" he called out, his voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Knock it off."

Leslie’s laugh echoed from the kitchen, followed by a muffled comment you couldn’t quite make out, though you were sure it was another jab at him.

Glen rolled his eyes and shook his head, but there was a softness to his expression when he looked at you. "Sorry about that," he said, his tone light. "She’s relentless."

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth in your chest at how natural this all felt. "It’s fine," you said, chuckling.

He held the door open for you, letting you step out first, his hand brushing against yours as you passed. The drive back to his place was quiet at first, the hum of the engine and the soft sounds of music on the radio filling the space between you. You found yourself glancing out the window, watching the suburbs of Austin pass by as the sun began to rise higher, casting a golden glow over everything.

Glen’s hand rested casually on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping lightly in rhythm with the beat of the song. Every now and then, he’d sneak a glance at you, a slight smile curling on his lips as if something was playing in his mind. You caught him once or twice, but neither of you said much, content to simply exist in the quiet comfort of each other’s company.

Finally, as you turned onto the street leading to his place, Glen broke the silence, his voice low but warm.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, glancing over at you, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “You’re not regretting agreeing to spend the holidays with my family, are you?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s been… nice. Really nice, actually.”

He gave a small, satisfied nod, then pulled into the driveway of his house. As he parked, you both sat there for a moment, the truck gently rocking as the engine turned off.

As you both entered the house, the familiar warmth wrapped around you, making you feel at ease. Glen led the way toward the stairs, his movements easy, casual—like nothing had changed. But you couldn't ignore the shift, the quiet tension that seemed to have settled between you after spending the night curled up together. It wasn’t awkward, not exactly, but it was different. You both seemed a little more aware of each other than before.

"Bathroom's upstairs," Glen said, breaking the silence as he gestured to the staircase. "You can use the guest bathroom, and I'll take the one in my room."

You nodded, following him up the stairs. The house was quiet now, the early morning stillness hanging in the air. When you reached the top, you stopped briefly in front of the guest room. Glen was a few steps ahead of you, but you caught the way his gaze flickered to you for just a moment. His eyes lingered, and you felt the weight of it—the subtle shift you’d both sensed. He quickly looked away, his lips curling into a casual smile, but it wasn’t the same as before. There was something unspoken now, something you couldn’t quite name.

"Alright," Glen said, his voice a little softer than usual. "I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit. Take your time."

You hesitated for a second, feeling the strange pull between you, but nodded and stepped into the guest room. The door clicked shut behind you, and for a moment, you just stood there, the silence pressing in. It wasn’t uncomfortable—just different. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, that quiet shift in the air, the one that had somehow made the space between you seem just a little smaller.

You shook your head, trying to push away the sudden thoughts swirling in your mind. This was still Glen—your friend. Nothing had changed, right?

But as you started to get ready for your shower, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had.

The hot water helped clear your head, and you focused on the simple task of washing off the sleep from your body. The shower was quick, just a few minutes of cleansing and letting the steam fill the space, but you didn’t want to take too long. Glen was probably already waiting, and you didn’t want to leave him hanging. You turned off the water, stepping out and grabbing the towel from the hook.

As you dried off, you realized your mistake. Your clothes were still in the guest room, neatly folded on the bed. You hadn’t thought that far ahead, assuming you’d just grab them when you finished. You sighed quietly to yourself, wrapping the towel securely around you, careful not to let it slip.

You checked yourself in the mirror for a moment, making sure everything was in place. Satisfied, you opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway, glancing toward the guest room. It felt strange walking across the house like this—towel-clad, with nothing but the soft padding of your bare feet on the floor to accompany you.

You moved as quickly as you could, trying not to draw attention to yourself, but the slight breeze of the air made you acutely aware of just how vulnerable you felt in the moment. When you reached the guest room, you took a quick glance down the hallway, just in case, before slipping inside and closing the door behind you.

You quickly pulled on the clothes you had set out, opting for something comfortable but still presentable. After slipping on a soft sweater and a pair of jeans, you grabbed the brush and ran it through your damp hair. You added a little product, hoping it would hold up for the day, but you didn’t want to stress too much about it. After all, you were just heading downstairs with Glen—nothing too formal.

You took a deep breath and made your way toward the door, hoping the day would continue as smoothly as possible. But as you stepped out of the guest room, you nearly collided with Glen. He was just emerging from his room, his shirt still in his hand, his chest and abs exposed in the moment before he pulled it on. His muscles were defined, his skin still warm from the shower, and you found your gaze involuntarily drifting down for just a moment.

You quickly snapped your eyes away, trying to ignore the rush of heat that flushed your face. You gave a nervous smile, your heart thudding in your chest, and practically rushed past him. Your steps were quick, almost too quick as you hurried down the stairs, praying to some higher power that Glen hadn’t noticed your lingering glance.

The sound of his footsteps following behind you reassured you that he wasn’t focusing on the moment. You let out a quiet breath, hoping you could push the moment from your mind and keep everything normal.

"So, what do you think? Want to hang out here for a bit? Enjoy the quiet before we head back to the chaos?" he asked, his voice casual, but there was an unspoken invitation in his words.

You glanced toward the living room. The cozy, inviting space was practically calling out to you. The thought of staying here, just the two of you, no teasing, no distractions. The idea of getting alone time with Glen was tempting.

But as you stood there, a tug of guilt gnawed at you. You could already picture Glen, laughing and joking with his family, enjoying moments that he didn’t get to have often due to his hectic schedule. He didn’t get much time with them, and you knew that all too well. The last thing you wanted to do was take him away from that, especially when you knew how much he cherished it.

You had more time with him than they did. You saw him regularly, had long conversations over coffee, shared lazy afternoons together on his days off. They were lucky to have him home, and you didn’t want to be the reason he missed out on these rare moments.

The thought of staying here, just the two of you, was appealing, yes—but not at the expense of his family. You didn’t want to be selfish. They didn’t have the luxury of seeing him every day, and you knew that if you stayed, it would be taking away from that time they had.

Finally, you shook your head slightly, offering him a small, apologetic smile. "I think I’d rather head back over," you said, trying to push aside the selfish urge to keep him all to yourself. "You don’t get to see them much, and I don’t want to take that away from you." With a final glance at the quiet room around you, you gave Glen a small smile. "Shall we?" you asked, your voice light, trying to push the lingering tension aside.

He nodded, his smile softening, understanding exactly what you meant. "Yeah, let’s go."

As you followed him to the door, the weight of the quiet moments you shared earlier in the day seemed to hang in the air, but there was something comforting in it. A subtle shift, one you couldn’t quite put your finger on but couldn’t ignore either.

The cool air greeted you as you stepped outside, and the drive back to his parents' house was peaceful, the car filled only with the sound of the engine and the faint rustling of the wind. You both had your own thoughts, but the comfortable silence made it feel like there was no need to fill the space.

When you pulled up to the house again, the familiar warmth of the lights shining from the windows seemed inviting. Glen turned to you before you opened the door, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. "Thanks for letting me have so much time with them" he said quietly, his voice sincere. "I appreciate you understanding."

You smiled at him, a quiet understanding between you that didn’t need words. "Of course, I know how important they are to you," you replied, giving him a look that was just as much reassurance as it was a soft acknowledgment of the unspoken bond you shared. And with that, the two of you stepped out of the car, ready to head back inside, where the sounds of family laughter awaited.

* * * * *

The warm scent of cookies filled the kitchen as you worked alongside Cyndy, Lauren, and Leslie, mixing dough and rolling it into perfect little balls. The rhythm of your hands, the soft scrape of the spatula against the bowl, was comforting. The kitchen was a cozy flurry of flour, sugar, and laughter.

As you moved the dough onto the baking sheets, the sounds of laughter echoed from the living room. Glen’s voice was unmistakable, full of warmth and joy, accompanied by the high-pitched giggles of the twins. You couldn’t help but smile, a soft chuckle escaping you as you glanced up.

“Seems like he’s a fun uncle,” you commented, rolling the dough into another ball.

Cyndy and Leslie shared a knowing look before Leslie grinned. "Oh, he’s the favorite uncle, hands down," she said, shaking her head with a teasing smile. “I mean, he’s practically a big kid himself when they’re around.”

You laughed, imagining Glen’s easygoing nature blending perfectly with the chaos and energy of his niece and nephew. It was clear that they adored him.

Lauren continued, her tone light and affectionate. “I think the twins might actually think of him as their second dad sometimes. He spoils them rotten."

After a few moments, Glen appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath but grinning from ear to ear, his hair a bit messy from wrestling with the twins. His cheeks were flushed from the fun, but as soon as his eyes found the cooling rack of freshly baked cookies, he couldn’t resist. He made his way toward it, trying to sneak a cookie without anyone noticing.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you saw his move. You grabbed the spatula from the counter and, with a quick swipe, playfully swatted at him.

“Don’t even think about it,” you teased, but before you could even get close, Glen’s hand shot out to grab your wrist, stopping the spatula mid-air.

He chuckled, his grip gentle but firm, his fingers brushing against your skin in the briefest of moments. His gaze locked with yours, and for a second, the playful banter seemed to fade as the space between you both felt charged with something a little different.

“Really?” Glen raised an eyebrow, his voice soft with amusement.

You laughed, trying to pull your wrist free, but his hand stayed in place, still holding you with a steady but warm grip. “They aren’t ready yet,” you said, laughing as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

The laughter from Cyndy and Leslie behind you broke the moment, and you both turned, noticing their amused expressions.

“Are we interrupting something?” Cyndy asked with a teasing smile.

Leslie, barely containing a grin, raised an eyebrow. “You two are really cute together, you know that?”

You shot her a playful glare, but Glen gave a sheepish chuckle, releasing your wrist and straightening up. “We're just friends,” he said with a lighthearted shrug, though the hint of something unspoken lingered in his tone. “But I am taking one of these cookies.”

Before you could respond, Glen grabbed a cookie from the cooling rack with a victorious grin. You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation as he happily bit into the cookie, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

Cyndy and Leslie exchanged a knowing glance, but neither said anything else, letting the moment hang in the air between you two, filled with warmth and an undeniable connection.

Lauren gave Glen a mischievous grin and, without warning, tossed a small pinch of flour in his direction. The flour puffed up in the air, and Glen let out a surprised laugh, his hands immediately going to his hair and face to brush it away.

“Hey!” Glen laughed, glancing around at the chaos unfolding. “You’re going down for that!”

In an instant, the flour fight was on. Leslie, quick on the draw, took the opportunity to sprinkle flour over Glen’s shoulder. He retaliated with a handful of flour that he flung in her direction, his aim slightly off, hitting the edge of the counter instead. You couldn't help but laugh, your hands covered in flour as you tried to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

Glen shot you a playful look, and before you could duck out of his reach, he tossed a small pinch of flour at you. It landed right on your nose, and you gasped in mock horror.

“Oh, it's on now,” you said, wiping at your nose. “You’re going to pay for that one.”

The kitchen erupted in more laughter as flour and frosting flew between the family members, and before long, the "fight" ended just as quickly as it started, with everyone covered in flour and sugar but still grinning from ear to ear.

You went to wipe the frosting off your cheek, but as your finger brushed over it, you only seemed to smear it further. Glen, watching you with a teasing smile, leaned in slightly, his gaze softening as he shook his head. “You’re just making it worse.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Got a better idea?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just reached for the kitchen towel. His fingers brushed against your chin as he gently took your face in his hands, tilting your head slightly to get a better angle. His thumb carefully wiped away the frosting from your cheek, and you held your breath, caught in the moment, his touch gentle and thoughtful.

“There,” Glen said softly, his eyes still focused on your face. “All better.”

You met his gaze for a moment, feeling something stir inside you. His hand lingered just a little longer than necessary before he dropped it to his side, giving you a sheepish smile.

Glen’s mom, Cyndy, appeared in the doorway, holding a broom in one hand and a Swiffer in the other. She surveyed the flour-coated kitchen with an amused smile, shaking her head at the mess.

“Start cleaning this up, Glen,” she said with a grin, holding out the broom to him.

Glen, still wiping frosting from his hands, gave her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am,” he replied, his voice teasing as he took the broom from her with a sigh.

Cyndy smiled and turned back to the counter, the familiar, easy banter filling the air. “I swear, uou start a food fight every time we bake cookies around here.”

“Hey, I didn’t start it. I was just defending myself,” Glen shot back, sweeping a pile of flour into the dustpan with care.

You glanced over at Glen, a grin tugging at your lips. It was hard not to notice how much he resembled his mom in that moment—easygoing, playful, and always the one tasked with cleaning up after the fun.

“Don’t look so smug, you’ve got your own work to do,” he teased, gesturing at the counter where the remaining cookie dough sat ready to be rolled.

You just laughed and walked over to help Cyndy and Leslie, trying to distract yourself from the small, fleeting moment you’d just shared with Glen.

The kitchen felt warm with laughter and good company as you all continued to work together, and for a moment, everything seemed perfectly in place. Glen was hard at work, and you were right where you wanted to be—with the people who mattered most to him, helping make new memories.

After the cookies were finished and the kitchen was tidied up, the festive energy of the day shifted to the living room, where the Christmas tree stood, waiting to be transformed. Glen’s mom, Cyndy, had made it clear—no tree decorating until everyone, including Glen was home. So, even though Christmas Eve had arrived, the tree still sat untouched, its branches bare, twinkling lights tangled in a mess of cords.

You and Glen made your way to the storage tote, ready to tackle the daunting task of untangling the lights. Glen grinned as he opened the lid, revealing the well-loved decorations inside. "Every year, this takes longer than it should," he muttered, already pulling out a jumble of strings.

"At least you’re here to help now," you teased, grabbing a section of lights and trying to work through the knots. "I’m sure your family appreciates that."

Glen shot you a playful look as he started to untangle his own section. "Yeah, yeah, they know I’m the official light untangler. No one else can be trusted with this responsibility."

You both worked together, your laughter and conversation mixing with the sounds of his sisters in the living room. Cyndy and Leslie were busy sorting through the assortment of ornaments, laying them out in neat piles to be hung on the tree. The occasional clink of glass and soft chatter filled the space as they talked about the best places to hang each ornament.

The mood was lighthearted, and there was a cozy comfort in the room as the tree slowly started to take shape. You glanced over at Glen, catching the familiar glint of mischief in his eyes as he struggled with a particularly stubborn knot.

"Need help there?" you asked with a smirk, leaning closer.

"Nope, I’ve got it," he replied, his voice teasing but also faintly apologetic. "I’m a professional at this by now."

As he worked on the tangled mess, you couldn’t help but notice how the sight of him—focused and determined, yet still making light of the situation—made your heart flutter in a way that was different from before. You shook it off quickly, telling yourself it was just the holiday spirit getting to you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggling with knots and wires, the lights were untangled. You plugged them in to make sure they worked, and sure enough, the tree lit up with a soft glow, casting a warm, comforting light on the room.

Cyndy clapped her hands together with excitement. "Alright, now the fun part! Everyone grab an ornament, let’s make this tree sparkle."

Glen’s sisters eagerly began pulling their favorite ornaments from the piles, each one carefully examined before being placed on the branches. Glen handed you an ornament with a small grin. "I think this one’s for you," he said, handing you a glass star ornament that had a delicate silver shimmer.

As the tree filled with decorations, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of the moment. It was peaceful and festive, and even with the occasional playful jab from one of Glen’s sisters, you couldn’t deny that it felt right.

Glen stepped back for a moment, surveying the tree as the last few ornaments were added. He gave you a soft smile, and you both exchanged a quiet moment before returning to finish the final touches.

As the final ornaments were being placed, the room seemed to hum with festive energy. The tree was almost done, with the soft glow of the lights reflecting off the glass baubles and tinsel. You stepped back to admire the view when Cyndy, holding the delicate star topper, made her way toward you.

"Here," she said with a warm smile, holding it out to you. "I think you should be the one to put the star on top. After all, you're the special guest this year."

You immediately felt a slight panic. "Oh, no, no, someone in the family should do it," you said, shaking your head, trying to pass the ornament back to her. "This is your tradition."

But Cyndy, always insistent, simply raised an eyebrow and gave you a playful smile. "You’re part of the family now," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

Before you could protest any further, Cyndy shot a glance over at Glen, who was leaning casually against the wall, watching with a smile. "Glen, help her up."

Glen’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he moved toward you. "You heard her," he teased, holding out a hand. "Up you go."

You gave him an incredulous look, but there was no backing out now. Glen bent down slightly, motioning for you to climb onto his shoulders. With a deep breath, you carefully moved onto his broad shoulders. Glen straightened up, your legs now on either side of his neck, and you were perched on his shoulders, a little wobbly at first, but he steadied you easily.

"Alright, ready?" he asked, his voice close to your ear, making you feel a little more unsteady than you had been just moments ago.

You nodded, and Glen slowly straightened his back, lifting you higher so you could reach the top of the tree.

With his support, you leaned over carefully, stretching just enough to place the star on top of the tree. You could feel his arms beneath your legs, his grip steady as he held you in place. As you aligned the cord with the top strand of lights, the star clicked into place, and the top of the tree lit up with a soft, radiant glow.

The room seemed to pause for a moment, everyone looking up at the tree as the star twinkled brightly, casting a warm glow over the entire room. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of pride and contentment as you admired the result.

"Perfect," Cyndy said, her voice filled with approval. "It’s beautiful."

As Glen slowly lowered you back to the ground, his hands slid to your waist, steadying you as you regained your footing. You both stood there for a moment, a shared silence settling over you as you looked up at the tree. The lights glowed softly, casting a gentle warmth over the room, and the star at the top shone brilliantly.

The atmosphere was calm, peaceful. You couldn’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest as you stood close to Glen, the warmth of his hands still lingering on your hips. It wasn’t anything overt, just a quiet moment where the connection between the two of you felt more real than ever. The world around you seemed to fade away for a second, leaving only the soft hum of the Christmas tree lights and the quiet of the room.

You both stood there for what felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. The only sounds were the soft crackle of the fire in the background and the distant laughter from the others. And then, without warning, Glen seemed to notice the looks from the corner of his eye. Leslie and Lauren were standing at the other side of the room, their eyes fixed on the two of you, their smiles too knowing for Glen’s liking.

Caught in the moment, Glen quickly pulled his hands from your sides, his fingers brushing against your skin just enough to send a small shiver down your spine. He cleared his throat and turned toward the others, trying to act nonchalant.

“Alright, alright,” he said, chuckling awkwardly.

Leslie grinned and gave him a playful wink, but it was Lauren’s knowing smile that lingered in your mind. You and Glen shared a fleeting glance before you both turned to rejoin the others, the moment still hanging between you two.

* * * * *

Later that evening, after the lively chaos of dinner had settled, you found yourself stepping out onto the deck of Glen’s house. The crisp air of the winter evening wrapped around you as you leaned against the railing, a cup of warm tea cradled in your hands. The steam curled up into the cool night, and the soft hum of the distant streetlights was the only sound you could hear. It was a peaceful contrast to the laughter and chatter that had filled the house earlier, and you welcomed the solitude.

As you sipped from your cup, your thoughts drifted back to the night’s events. Glen’s family had been warm and welcoming, and though you could see how much they all cared for him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Cyndy had spoken earlier. It lingered in your mind, that softness in her eyes when she spoke of how much happier Glen seemed since you arrived. It made your chest feel tight, both in a comforting and nerve-wracking way.

The door behind you creaked open, and you turned just as Glen stepped onto the deck. He moved toward you with that familiar easy stride of his, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. For a moment, he stood beside you, silent, just taking in the night air with you. The way the soft glow of the house lights reflected off his features made him seem almost impossibly handsome in the moment.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, as if he knew that his family’s energy could be overwhelming at times. “I know they can be a lot.”

You offered him a soft smile and took another sip of tea, the warmth of the cup soothing against your palms. “I’m enjoying myself, really,” you assured him. “Your family’s great. It’s just... nice to have a little peace and quiet for a moment after everything today, you know?”

Glen gave a small, understanding nod, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. The comfortable silence stretched between you both, but then, as if on cue, a gust of cool air swept across the deck. You couldn’t help but shiver slightly, the chill catching you off guard.

Before you could react, you felt a warmth at your shoulders. Glen’s arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer to him, the solid feel of his presence comforting against the cool night. His touch, the gentle weight of his arm around you, made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. It felt natural, like he was just trying to make sure you were okay—but there was something else there, something unspoken that hummed beneath the surface.

For a brief moment, you thought he might lean in, maybe say something that would break the quiet tension between you. But he didn’t. He just stood there, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, but not close enough to cross that invisible line.

The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence where two people simply existed in each other’s presence, the world around them fading away. Still, something about the stillness between you and Glen made you aware of the subtle shift in the air. You glanced up at him, catching the thoughtful, almost distant expression on his face.

“You okay?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. There was something in his demeanor that made you wonder if something was on his mind, maybe something he wasn’t sharing. He seemed more serious now, the playfulness from earlier replaced by a quiet vulnerability you couldn’t quite place.

Glen turned his head to look at you, blinking as if he had been lost in thought, and then he let out a low chuckle, brushing it off. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice light but guarded, as if the answer to your question was something he wasn’t sure he wanted to share.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin curling on your lips. “Try me.”

His gaze flickered to yours, and for a second, you could see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. It was a small thing, but it was there—a brief moment of vulnerability that he quickly masked with a deep breath. He didn’t say anything at first, just looking out at the dark sky, the stars twinkling above.

“I’m just…” He trailed off, then ran a hand through his hair, clearly unsure of how to continue. “I don’t know. Just... thinking about how much things have changed recently.” Glen sighed again, letting out a breath like he was releasing something heavy. “I guess... it’s just been a lot. Work, family... and now you. It’s all good stuff, but it’s a lot to juggle sometimes, you know?” He paused, his words becoming slower as if he were processing something in real-time. “I don’t want to mess things up. With my family, with you...”

The air between you and Glen felt thick with unspoken things, so you did the only thing that felt natural. You shifted slightly, closing the space between you until you were pressed against his chest. Instantly, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you rested your head just beneath his chin, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against you.

For a brief, fleeting moment, you thought you might’ve felt something—something soft and sweet, maybe even a kiss. But when you lifted your head to look up at him, you realized it wasn’t that at all. He’d just rested his chin on the top of your head, his touch warm and gentle, like a quiet reassurance that you didn’t know you needed until now.

You pulled back a fraction, just enough to tilt your head and meet his eyes. Your fingers brushed against his chest lightly as you took a breath, wanting to say something—anything—that would keep this moment from slipping away.

“You couldn’t possibly mess things up with me,” you assured him, your voice steady but filled with a quiet confidence. You didn’t know why you said it, but you meant it. The last thing you wanted was for Glen to feel like he was doing anything wrong by simply being himself.

Glen laughed softly, though it was a little unsure. “Don’t be so sure about that,” he teased, his voice still carrying that hint of vulnerability beneath the humor. He didn’t let go of you, though—his hands resting lightly on your shoulders, almost like he was grounding himself to you in this moment.

You couldn't help but smile at the mix of playfulness and seriousness in his tone. It was typical of him—strong and self-assured, yet still somehow uncertain when it came to matters of the heart. But the way he was holding you, the way his arms had wrapped around you so naturally—it told you everything you needed to know.

“You’re not as big a mess as you think you are, Glen,” you said, your voice soft, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “At least not when it comes to me.”

Glen smiled back at you, the warmth of it reaching his eyes. The distance between you two, both physically and emotionally, was narrowing with every second.

Another breeze stirred the air, cool against your skin. It caught a strand of your hair, whipping it across your face. You instinctively reached up to brush it away, but before your hand could meet your face, Glen shifted. His fingers grazed your cheek softly, his touch warm as he gently tucked the errant strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered there, resting along your jaw for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

You looked up at him, and in that moment, the world seemed to slow down. His eyes, dark and unreadable, met yours, searching, almost like he was wondering what you were thinking—if you were feeling the same pull he was. His breath caught slightly, the air thick with everything unsaid between you two.

For a long, fragile moment, you were certain neither of you wanted to break the connection, but it was like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Glen’s fingers lingered on your face, his touch almost electric, and you could feel the heat rising between you.

He parted his lips like he was about to say something—anything—but then stopped. Something held him back, that same hesitation that had kept him quiet, kept him at a distance all evening. His breath faltered, but you could tell he was fighting himself.

The words left you before you could even think twice about them. Soft, barely a whisper, just enough for him to hear: “Kiss me.”

You weren’t sure if he caught it at first. It was so quiet, almost too soft for him to hear. If he didn’t want to, he could easily dismiss it, pretend he hadn’t heard and let the moment pass. The uncertainty and the weight of the words hung between you, like a fragile thread.

But then Glen’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, and the gesture was enough to make your heart race. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was soft but full of promise. There was no hesitation now, no second-guessing.

The world melted away, and all that remained was the warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath mingling with yours

The world melted away, and all that remained was the warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath mingling with yours. You could taste the hint of his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his skin as his lips gently moved against yours, a quiet but insistent promise.

You reached up, your hands trembling slightly, and grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt, as if grounding yourself in this moment. His touch was everything—strong, steady, and a little desperate, like he was holding on to something precious. One hand found its way to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he gently pulled you closer, his lips urging yours to open. The soft pressure was almost a question, and you answered it without hesitation, your lips parting as his tongue slid in, exploring you with slow, deliberate movements.

The kiss deepened, and everything else faded. His free hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him, making you feel the undeniable heat of his body. The way he held you tightly, possessively, ignited a spark inside you that set your skin on fire. You felt every inch of him, the strength in his arms, the warmth of his chest pressed against yours, his heart racing in time with yours.

Without breaking the kiss, he gently pushed you back, guiding you until you were pinned between his solid body and the railing behind you. You could feel the cool metal against your back, the contrast of it to the heat radiating from him, but it only made the moment more intense, more real.

His mouth never left yours, and you were lost in it—lost in the way he kissed you, in the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that instant. His tongue moved against yours, a slow, sensual dance that sent shivers down your spine. He was patient but relentless, as if he couldn't get close enough, as if he wanted to drown in this feeling, in the taste of you.

For a moment, you lost yourself completely in him. The kiss became everything—the way his lips molded to yours, the heat of his body pressed against yours, and the deep, almost desperate need that surged between you. It was as if nothing else in the world existed but the two of you.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to let you both catch your breath, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged. He didn't let go, his hands still on your waist, his body so close you could feel the warmth of him seeping into you. His eyes searched yours, almost like he was asking for permission, or maybe trying to figure out what this meant.

Glen took a slow, deliberate step back, his hands lingering for just a second longer than necessary on your waist, as if reluctant to let go. His gaze locked with yours, still heavy with unspoken words and that same intensity that hung thick in the air. His lips parted slightly, as if he might say something, but the moment lingered—unsaid, just like everything else that had passed between you two.

He reached down, his fingers brushing against yours, and when he grasped your hand, it felt grounding, but at the same time, like a promise. He gently pulled you inside, his touch still warm against your skin, the heat from the kiss still lingering between you.

You stepped closer to him, his hand never leaving yours, and the world outside seemed to fade away once more. The air was different inside—charged in a way that made everything feel more intimate, more real. Glen glanced at you over his shoulder, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes dark with something unreadable, something that only added to the tension building between you.

And then, with a quiet, almost playful tug, he led you further into the house, closing the door softly behind you. 

* * * * *

You stirred slowly, the warmth of the bed and the soft, rhythmic press of Glen’s lips against your shoulder coaxing you out of sleep. His gentle kisses trailed up to your collarbones, each one sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. The sensation was soft, tender—like he was savoring the moment, as if he didn’t want to break the stillness of the morning.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your eyes fluttering open just enough to catch the sight of him—his face only inches from your skin, eyes closed in quiet reverence. His arm tightened around you, pulling you closer as though you were the only thing anchoring him to this moment. It felt so natural, so right, that you could almost forget it was Christmas morning.

With a soft sigh, you rolled onto your back, the bed creaking slightly as you shifted. You turned your head, your gaze meeting his. He hadn’t noticed you were awake, his lips still lightly grazing your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

A small, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, unable to hide the happiness bubbling up inside you. It was a moment of peace, of simplicity, and you knew it was one you’d carry with you for a long time.

When Glen finally met your eyes, his expression softened, a quiet tenderness in his gaze that made your heart flutter in your chest. He leaned in again, pressing a kiss to your lips, brief but full of meaning. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his voice low and rough from sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered back, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, the moment feeling so intimate, so perfect.

Just as you were starting to drift back into the peaceful warmth of the moment, Glen’s phone rang, breaking the silence. He groaned and reached for it, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "Not now," he muttered, glancing at the screen and seeing it was Leslie calling.

"Seriously?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "She can’t let us have five more minutes?"

Glen chuckled, though it was laced with mock frustration. "Guess not. She probably wants us to hurry up and join the rest of the chaos." He answered the call and put it on speaker, letting out another groan. "Leslie, it’s Christmas morning, cut me some slack."

You heard her voice, cheerful but insistent. "Yeah, I know, but you need to get over here! We’re all waiting for you to start the presents."

Glen rubbed a hand over his face, looking over at you with a grin. "Alright, alright. We’ll get up and head right over."

But Leslie, ever the sharp one, picked up on the tone in his voice. "Wait a second," she said with a teasing smirk in her voice. "You said ‘we’ll’ get up? So that means... you’re both still in bed?"

You felt Glen stiffen, his eyes locking onto yours as the corners of his mouth twitched. Before he could respond, Leslie continued, sounding far too smug for 8 AM. "And she’s with you, huh? In your room?"

Glen groaned dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead. "Leslie, it’s too early for this," he muttered, clearly embarrassed by the line of questioning.

Leslie wasn’t letting up, though. "Oh, I get it," she said in a sing-song voice, a little too amused for her own good. "I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’"

Glen looked at you, mouthing, "I’m gonna kill her."

He sighed, sitting up on the bed, clearly trying to change the subject. "Okay, okay. We’ll be over soon, alright? Stop prying."

"Sure, sure. Just don’t take too long, or I might have to send Mom in there to drag you both out," Leslie teased before hanging up with a cheerful goodbye.

Glen, still looking mildly exasperated, dropped the phone onto the bed. He laughed and leaned back against the headboard, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright, guess we should get up and face the madness."

You and Glen exchanged sleepy smiles as you both began to rise from the bed. Glen stretched his arms overhead, letting out a long yawn, before he slipped on his slippers and headed toward the bathroom. You turned toward the guest room, mentally running through the few things you had to do to get ready for the day.

As you dressed, you couldn't help but replay last night in your head—the kiss, the closeness, the way it felt like the world had just slipped away, leaving only the two of you. But now, in the cold light of morning, you couldn’t shake the uncertainty that lingered. What did it mean? What were you to Glen after everything that had happened? Your heart raced as the thought crossed your mind. Was this something you were supposed to talk about? Or would it be just another fleeting moment, like so many others in the past?

You finished getting dressed, smoothing your shirt and running your fingers through your hair, trying to calm the nerves that had appeared out of nowhere. When you stepped out of the guest room, you found Glen already ready, his jacket on and his keys in hand. He was standing by the door, waiting for you.

He gave you a soft smile when he saw you. "Ready?" he asked, his voice warm but with an edge of hesitation that matched how you were feeling.

You nodded, trying to brush off the unease. "Yeah.”

You followed him to the truck, your mind still racing with questions. The drive was quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space between you. As you passed the familiar landmarks, your eyes wandered to Glen, who was focused on the road. You wanted to ask him everything, to know where the two of you stood after everything, but you didn’t want to make things awkward.

Finally, Glen broke the silence. “I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice steady but quiet. He glanced at you for a moment before turning his focus back to the road. “About last night. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?” you prompted softly, unsure of where he was going with this.

He let out a breath, his lips curving into a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “Look, I know my life isn’t exactly… simple. My schedule is a mess, and I’m gone a lot. I don’t want to pretend like that’s not going to be a challenge. But,” he paused, his voice growing more certain, “I want to see where this goes. With you. If you’re willing to, that is.”

For a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. You could hear the nervous edge in his voice, the way he shifted slightly in his seat like he wasn’t sure how you’d respond.

You let the weight of his words settle over you before you replied. “I’m willing to,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I wouldn’t have let last night happen if I wasn’t.”

A flicker of relief crossed his face, and he smiled—an honest, open kind of smile that made your chest feel warm. He reached over, his hand finding yours where it rested on your lap. His touch was gentle but firm, like he was grounding himself in this moment.

“Okay,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand. “Then we’ll figure it out. Whatever it takes.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart lighter now, but the lingering uncertainty still hung between you. “So, what do we do about your family?” you asked, tilting your head toward him. “Do we tell them, or…?”

He sighed, his lips quirking in a wry smile. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, his mind clearly turning over the possibilities. “Part of me thinks it’s better to just get it out there. But another part of me… I don’t want to make today about us when it’s supposed to be about family.”

You nodded, understanding his hesitation. “We don’t have to decide right now,” you offered. “Let’s just see how the day goes.”

Glen smiled again, his gaze soft as it flicked toward you. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

The rest of the drive was filled with a sense of quiet anticipation, the air between you lighter now but still charged with the potential of what was to come. Glen didn’t let go of your hand the entire way, and you couldn’t help but feel that, no matter what, the two of you were in this together.

Glen stepped inside first, his hand still firmly clasping yours as he guided you over the threshold. The sound of laughter and conversation spilled from the living room, filling the house with the unmistakable hum of family.

Glen paused just inside the door, turning to face you. His hand lingered in yours for a moment before he gently released it, reaching instead to help you shrug off your coat. His fingertips brushed lightly against your arms as he slid the thick material off your shoulders. You glanced up at him, catching the faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Thanks," you murmured, offering him a small smile of your own as he hung your coat on the nearby rack.

He gave a slight nod. "Anytime," he replied, his voice low and quiet, just for you.

With that, you made your way toward the living room, Glen trailing close behind. The sight that greeted you was as welcoming as the sounds and smells: his entire family gathered around the tree, mugs of steaming coffee and hot cocoa in hand, their laughter blending with the soft crackle of the fireplace.

"Well, there they are!" Leslie called out, her grin widening as she spotted the two of you.

At her words, all eyes turned to you and Glen. You felt a momentary flush of warmth—not from embarrassment, but from the sheer warmth of the welcome in their gazes. Glen’s mom was the first to rise, crossing the room to pull you into a gentle hug.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she said, her voice as soft and kind as ever.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, smiling as you returned the hug.

Glen hung back for a moment, his gaze sweeping over his family before it landed back on you. When his mom released you, he stepped forward to exchange his own hugs and greetings, his presence grounding you in the lively room.

As you settled into the living room, Leslie’s sharp eyes darted between you and Glen, a knowing glint lighting her expression. “You two look cozy,” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Glen shot her a warning look but didn’t rise to her bait. Instead, he placed a steadying hand on your back as he guided you toward an empty spot on the couch. “It’s still too early for your commentary, Les,” he said dryly, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you sat down, feeling Glen’s hand linger for just a moment longer than necessary before he joined you. The family resumed their chatter, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of the room and the easy dynamic Glen had with his family.

There was an unspoken understanding between you and Glen as the morning unfolded. Whatever the day might bring, you were in this together, and that made everything—his teasing siblings, the bustling energy, the unrelenting sense of closeness—feel a little less overwhelming and a lot more like home.

The morning carried on with a joyous rhythm, the room buzzing with laughter and the crinkling of wrapping paper as Glen’s mom began handing out gifts from beneath the tree. One by one, brightly wrapped packages found their way into eager hands, and the sound of tearing paper soon filled the room.

You found yourself nestled comfortably on the couch beside Glen, warmth radiating from his side. At some point, almost without thinking, you leaned into him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder. His arm instinctively came up to wrap around you, pulling you just a little closer.

The moment felt effortless, like breathing, and you let yourself savor the comfort of it.

Unfortunately, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Ohhh, would you look at that?” Leslie’s voice rang out, her tone dripping with mischief.

Your head snapped up, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you realized all eyes were now on you and Glen. His parents exchanged exaggerated grins while his older sister’s gaze softened with a mix of joy and curiosity.

“Well, this is new,” somebody teased.

Glen let out a long-suffering groan, running a hand over his face. “Can we not make this a thing?” he muttered, though there was no real heat in his voice.

Leslie was undeterred, her grin widening as she leaned forward. “Oh, no, this is absolutely a thing. Care to share with the group, Glen?”

He sighed, glancing at you. The flush on your cheeks deepened, but there was no judgment or pressure in his expression—only quiet reassurance.

Finally, he turned back to his family, his shoulders squaring as if bracing himself. “Fine. Yes, we’re… seeing where things go,” he admitted, his voice steady but soft. “And that’s all you’re getting out of me right now.”

His mom clasped her hands together, her face lighting up like the tree behind her. “Oh, Glen,” she said warmly, her joy unmistakable.

The teasing and comments came in waves after that, a mix of playful ribbing and heartfelt congratulations. You felt your face grow impossibly warm, but Glen’s arm around you tightened, grounding you.

Eventually, Glen turned to his family with a pointed look. “Okay, you’ve had your fun. Can we get back to the presents now?”

Leslie laughed but relented, reaching for another package beneath the tree. As the room shifted back to its lively rhythm, Glen leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”

His eyes softened, and he gave a slight nod. “Yeah.”

And as the morning carried on, the lively chatter and laughter of his family surrounded you, filling the room with warmth. Glen’s arm stayed comfortably around you, an anchor amidst the joyful chaos. For the first time in a long time, you felt at ease—like you belonged, not just in this house but at his side.

Whatever this was, whatever it might become, one thing was clear: this was the beginning of something worth holding onto.

[dickgraysonsptsd]

Do you know what's up with all the fanart and fics and stuff that show Jason super close and Brotherly with Damian/Tim/Cass/Steph? Because not to be a Dick Grayson biased guy, but it really does seem like some backwards level misogyny taking people who have complex and important relationships with dick (especially Damian??????????) And being like nahhhhhh Dicks just the fun older bro lol he can't and doesn't have complex relationships with these guys but Jason who lower class and was tragically murdered does :D the Jason and Tim stuff Especially because Tim fucking hates Jason in canon and yet every 4th batman related fanart that pops up is them being closer than close brothers and Dick just a background character. I do understand people have biases and fave characters, but at this point, it seems people are doing this just to push dick out the way or undermine his importance, literally backwards misogyny fridging dick (and Barbara and steph) so Jason and cass get to play house and have that hug they absolutely had in canon

so i think a lot of this comes from what i understand to be a huge influx of new fans to batfandom during the pandemic, most of whom were primarily interested in fanon depictions of the characters. they got into the bats through fanfic or wfa or tiktoks or whatever and while some people then got into comics, tv shows, etc from there, plenty stayed in the "fanon universe" corner of fandom.

jason is especially popular among these types of fans, which led to them making more fanworks of him that got more new fans interested in him, and so on. this is is fine! i'm glad people have their biases and their faves because i certainly do too, we need lots of people with different faves for a diverse ecosystem!

unfortunately a lot of the things they say they like about red hood jason (good big brother, protective of and respectful towards survivors and sex workers, caring, compassionate, engages with his community, wants to improve his city, fights openly with bruce but is capable of reconciling with him, etc) are literally just dick's traits given to jason for the sake of softening jason's very abrasive and antagonistic post-crisis character (and anything set in/around utrh is necessarily based in post-crisis!). even jason's relationships that they say they like, such as his n52+ friendships with roy or kory, are... dick's. and fans of roy or kory generally hate how they're portrayed in relation to jason because their characters have to be warped to force them into relationships with him.

and now that these fanon-focused fans have built a version of jason that they love which happens to overlap heavily with dick, they have to do something else with dick. which is usually, as you pointed out, assigning him a shallow personality or pushing him into the background of fanworks in some way. he has to be mindlessly supportive of daddy bruce, cheerful, ditzy, a crybaby, etc to simplify him out of his normal central role in the lives of characters like tim, damian, bruce, etc (it's interesting that he's often loaded with stereotypically Annoying Feminine Traits in comparison to jason being made a "strong but soft" masculine man... hm...).

the only mainstream comics canon that i'm aware of with meaningful basis for any other bats being closer to jason than to dick is n52, which has a really funny full page spread of tim going "wow.. i've never had a brother before... not like jason my beloved... <333" while laying next to jason on the ground. otherwise this whole "jason is the real big brother who all the bats love" thing is pure fanon.

now like. as to motivation for this. i think the vast majority of jason fans don't hate dick and don't have any ill intent towards his character or his fans. i feel you because as a dick obsessive i also get frustrated with all of this, but i seriously don't think most people who do this have any intent beyond having fun with their toys. and i don't think the fanon jason fans are really thinking about canon dick or jason to begin with for the most part--they're essentially playing with dolls shaped like the bat characters. and they're having fun with it so.... good for them *said through clenched teeth*

basically i think it all comes from a pretty harmless place but it's annoying as fuck and FEELS targeted lmao.

now, not speaking as a dick grayson superfan anymore--the shit that steph and cass get in particular to bend them into people who would looooove jason and embrace him as part of the batfamily is ABSURD. i can't imagine being a cass superfan in this society. as if CASSANDRA CAIN would give jason a hug and go "big brother <3" when jason has repeatedly desecrated the batsymbol (which is how cass would see it, as desecration!!!). jason had the option to not kill and he chose to kill because he wanted to. cass would beat his ass.

i am especiallyyyy peeved when i see "steph and jason would be besties because they're both from poor families :D" takes because like. first of all, weird to reduce them to "the poor robins." and very weird to try for a "both of their dads were villains/henchmen" angle too because red hood jason has killed plenty of criminals who left kids just like steph behind. second, steph would not tolerate post-crisis jason. jason tormented tim and then--EDIT: GANG I MISREMEMBERED THIS jason is not the one who shot damian in the spine. however i still firmly believe steph would beat his ass.

(i do personally think an element of misogyny/homophobia is involved in how readily people will strip dick of his personality and relationships and give them to the more traditionally masculine jason, who has no "questionable" relationships with men and whose relationship with bruce is "pure" and straightforwardly familial, but i don't have the spoons to put that into words rn. but i feel you. but it's also a complicated thing to talk about without sounding like i'm talking over misogyny towards actual female characters. you know)

[hello-universe-lovers]

"I don't want to go back..."

On the first day of Chris--oh wait it's already passed in my timezone. Nvm. Anyway, Broken is done, yaaay! The girlfriends are reunited! Anyway, you know how it is. Spoilers beware!

So my interpretation of the Broken is a lil more...healthier than canon. I mean, she's still a depressed bean and all but unlike Cold, she's medicated/hj. Much like the Opportunist, I stamped way too many HCs onto her (actually my bf did, bc he's disabled and he's where I get most of my ideas from) so she is not 1-to-1. But when has a lil canon divergence stopped anyone? I still am happy with how she turned out and how her disability affects her!

Details time:

- Her Princess is the Wild. And the separation from her was rough on Broken. Because of her empathy, she truly thought that being connected was the right call. We both know how it ends, and the resulting split took her legs. When they got to the Wounded Wild, both can see the damage they caused the other, and so agreed to move forward from the pain, getting to know each other.

- She obviously lost her legs, up to her thighs are root. And they also sprout from her head, too. The flower is just to hide the hole that are now in her skull.

- her wings were stripped bare, boney and unable to grow new feathers. So she opted to wear a shawl over them so they didn't hurt.

- her walk is more like a waddle, if she's doing it alone. She'd prefer to move with assistance (mainly Cheated) but if push comes to shove, she'd move on her own...very slowly.

- she is still connected to the Wild. And more often than not, she'd go to her to assimilate into the system. It's mainly a coping and calming thing, as she and Wild talk better through this direct connection. To her, this is the equivalent of going to your friend's house for some chit-chat.

- her clothes were made by Smitten to be as comfortable and easy to pull off as possible.

- her talons are frequently trimmed

- as stated in headcanons, she smokes weed. Medicinal weed to cope with the pain.

- Obviously, sometimes things hurt. Her legs are a big contribution to the pain, but her head, chest and arms also flare up. It's something that happens and while she groans and moans about it, she'd just lay still until she can move again. (And pain medication if they are REALLY bad)

- the cane was provided by Wild. It's perfect for her and if you forcibly take it from her hands, the cane turns into a root to strangle you.

- it's hard to get her motivated to do so, but almost every voice has experience the Broken Bonk™️ of Disapproval from her cane (the ones who haven't are Connie, Hero and Cheated)

- she has channel most of her self hatred to unfiltered sass. She will call you out on bullshit while using herself as the goal post. ("At LEAST I have no legs. What's your excuse?" Is an example).

- wheelchair is also optional for long distance travel.

- if anyone can draw the back of her head, I will give you a free doodle. I just wanted to give her curls but idk how to make thst look, if you're looking from straight behind her.

- Despite EVERYTHING, she still loves the Wild. She views her as a fellow person looking to heal. With Cheated included, they formed a little support group for all the trauma these poeple went through. Mainly through providing a calming and empty space to get away from the chaos and noise of Construct (and sometimes each other).

- is she as zealous as canon Broken is with Tower? Eeehhh...a little. She would much prefer the interpersonal connection and sense of completion the Wild provides than the Distant but guaranteed Protection of the Tower, but separate the 2 princesses, and she'd still grovel to Tower exactly like canon.

- it goes without saying but I will say it so it's clear: if you draw my version of Broken, draw her with her mobility aids (Cane and/or wheelchair). They are a part of her and me and my bf would appreciate it greatly, if you do that.

Ok, that's all. If it's still Christmas in your timezone, then Merry Christmas!!

[leighsartworks216]

Fine Arts

Rafayel x gn!graphic designer!Reader

This is the last one!!! THank goD!!

Warnings: pre-relationship, banter, bickering, if this was a full series it would be enemies to lovers

Word Count: 925

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

This meeting, compared to the other clientele you've dealt with over your career, was going well. The manager was taking over discussions of appearance, providing wants and desires, styles and color palettes, while the real client was pouting and making snide remarks with very unhelpful feedback.

So, really well. At least the manager was actually listening to you.

"If you want the exhibition to feel high class, I'd recommend a script or serif font. Sans serifs can work sometimes, but they have different connotations." You write down a few notes to yourself in your sketchbook.

Rafayel scoffs. "Art shouldn't be limited to the elite. My works are for everyone to view, not just the people on top with the deepest pockets."

You offer him a placating smile. "I understand what you mean, Mr. Rafayel, but given the area the gallery is in and the fame of your works, it may be better to appeal to the elites that are more likely to come and spend their money." You tilt your head, adding, "Though, if you'd like to broaden your audience to appeal to the layman, I'd be happy to create a few versions from that angle."

Thomas sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's had this conversation a thousand times before. Given his client, maybe he has. "It's a charity event, Rafayel. We want buyers who will spend a lot of money for your work to benefit the charity. Normal people aren't our audience here."

"The charity benefits 'normal people', doesn't it? Why are they suddenly being excluded out of this?"

"If someone is willing to spend more, more money can be donated to the charity. It's not that hard to understand!"

"But they should still feel welcome to visit the gallery, even if they don't have the funds to buy anything."

You clear your throat. The men look at you. Rafayel stares at you like he wants you to burst into flames. "Rafayel's name will draw enough attention from the art world to attract buyers willing to spend big money. If you want the event itself to be seen by normal people, design for the normal person. Besides, a normal person will be more interested in the design of the promotional material than an elite just buying the work for their wall."

Rafayel looks at Thomas. The manager taps his fingers impatiently on the table, before sighing. "Fine. Elegant, but welcoming. You can manage that, right?"

You smile thinly at him. "Of course."

He sighs again, nodding. He checks his watch. "This meeting's run over. Contact me when you have drafts drawn up. I'll send you the info," he rambles off as his chair scrapes against the floor and he stands. He leaves with little else to say aside from a brief 'have a nice day'.

You make a few more notes in your sketchbook, crossing out the older notes you don't need anymore. Rafayel sighs heavily from the end of the table.

"You got what you needed. Are you gonna leave now?"

"Mhm. I just wanted to know if I could see the centerpiece for the exhibit. It would give me a better idea for color schemes and layouts."

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you. "Thomas already went over all that with you. Why do you need to see it in person?"

You chuckle. "Forgive me, but I don't trust a business man to know what looks good with what. I'd rather trust the artist he's trying to promote."

He stares at you for a minute. His finger taps a rhythm against his arm, contemplating whether he should work with you or send you right out the door.

Eventually, he sighs. "Fine, but no peeking at anything else!"

"If I want to see the rest of your stuff, I'll go to the exhibit myself."

He leads you through his house where the meeting took place. It's one of the nicer places you've ever been in when working with a client. You've seen mansions and manors before, once or twice, but this felt nicer than those. Those were stuffy and dark, trying to impress a higher class of people. Compared to those, this was casual. The sea breeze coming in through the windows was refreshing, enticing you to run out onto the beach after this.

When you reach the entrance of his studio, he makes you cover your eyes. You relent, letting him lead you through the place until he stops you. The heat of his hand lingers on your arm.

"Okay, you can look now."

You drop your hands and blink away the darkness until your eyes can adjust. Three canvases are all lined up on separate easels, coming together to form one scene. It's ocean-themed, as most of his works seemed to be from your brief research, depicting the story of a mermaid stranded on a beach, being saved by a passing fisherman.

"Oh, so it's a triptych."

He blinks at you. "I'm surprised you know what that is.”

You give him an unimpressed look. "I do have a bachelor's in fine arts, you know."

"Why? You work with computers all day for your job, why do you need to know the traditional aspects of art?"

"Well, aside from having background knowledge for clients like you who do traditional artwork, I don't just work with computers for my art. A lot of my job entails sketching, a traditional medium. Just because I know how to transfer it to a digital format doesn't mean I'm exempt from learning about it."

---

Tag List:

@nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[srvbryn]

Shoes Theory - Various Genshin Men ;)

A/n: haha, HSR or WuWa version? Or ZZZ? LADS? Obey me?

Their response if you told them:

"If you buy your love one a pair of shoes, they'll run away wearing them," you teased, handing him the shoes with a playful smile..

Pierro

"Then I shall buy shoes with a little extra weight, ensuring that neither of us runs anywhere. If you wish to escape, it will be a much more difficult task."

Cyno

"If you run, I’ll catch you. Though, I’ll make sure to do so with a little... discipline."

Xinqiu

"If you buy me shoes, I might run away... but only to read more novels with you"

Venti

"If you buy me shoes, I’ll run off to explore Teyvat’s wind-swept hills, but maybe you’ll come along too?"

Kaeya

"Then I’ll just have to buy you a pair, so we can run away together. How about that?"

Diluc

"Then I suppose we’ll run away together. But I’ll make sure we return safely."

Zhongli

"Then I’ll buy you a pair, but I’m certain you won’t run far. I’d be right beside you, guiding the way."

Chongyun

"Wait, are you saying... I should buy shoes and... run away? But that doesn’t sound like a good idea. I’ll end up catching a cold!"

Kazuha

"Ah, but the wind always carries me where I need to go. If you run, I’ll follow—shoes or no shoes"

Childe

"Oh? In that case, I’ll buy us both shoes... so we can run away and cause some chaos together. What do you say?"

Alhaitham

"I suppose I’d have to buy you shoes then... though I doubt you’d get far. I always catch up."

Dainsleif

"Then I’ll ensure we both run away together, though I doubt you’d be able to outrun me."

Albedo

"Then perhaps I’ll buy us both shoes, but I’ll make sure to leave behind a trail of something more valuable than footprints."

Ayato

"Then I’ll simply buy a matching pair, and we’ll run away together—though, I imagine you’ll be the one trying to catch up."

Baizhu

"I don’t believe you’d be able to run very far. But if you insist, I’ll accompany you. Perhaps I’ll buy a pair for myself, just in case I need to chase you down."

Bennett

"Well, if I buy you shoes, we can run away together—just make sure you don't leave me behind!"

Gorou

"If that’s the case, I’ll make sure to buy sturdy ones. We wouldn’t want you running off without me, would we?"

Heizou

"Then I suppose I’ll have to buy a pair for myself, and we’ll run away together. Just make sure to keep up, alright?"

Itto

"Run away? You better believe I’m right behind you! I’ll buy us matching pairs—after all, you’re not getting away without me!"

Kaveh

"I see how it is. Well, if you run, I’ll run right after you—and we’ll both make it to the best places in Sumeru! But I hope you’re ready to keep up with me!"

Lyney

"Ah, but if you run away, I’ll just perform a trick and make sure you don’t get far. You’ll be with me in no time!"

Mika

"I—I don’t think I could keep up! But if you run, I’ll try my best to catch up... maybe with some help, of course."

Neuvillete

"If you run, I’ll accompany you... though I doubt I’ll be the one lagging behind. I’ve got the stamina for such things."

Razor

"I will run too... but I stay with you. The wolf never leaves the pack."

Sethos

"I would follow you anywhere. But I must warn you—I won’t be far behind. "

Thoma

"Then I suppose we’ll both run away together. I’ve got enough energy for the both of us!"

Tighnari

"I don’t think you’d get too far wearing shoes like that."

"But if you insist, I’ll keep pace with you, though I doubt it’ll be a chase I’ll lose."

Wanderer

"I would run, but I think I’d rather walk at my own pace... though I’m sure you’ll be quick to catch up."

Wriorizzley

"I wouldn’t let you run off without me. If you run, I’ll chase. After all, I’m more than capable of keeping up."

Xiao

"I won’t chase. If you run, you run alone."

Dottore

"Then perhaps I’ll buy you a pair, but I would ensure that you don’t run far at all. There are... more effective ways to keep you close."

Capitano

"Then I’ll make sure to buy shoes strong enough to keep up. If you decide to run, I will be right behind you."

Scaramouche

"Run away? How cute. If you think you can escape from me that easily, you’ve got another thing coming."

Pantalone

"Then I’ll buy you a pair of shoes, but you won’t be running anywhere. If you try, I’ll simply buy us both something better—something you can’t escape from."

Kinich

"Then I suppose I'll just have to chase after you."