#like they’re destined to be gay together

[raustenacious]

“And the destiny you two are meant to share” that’s gay right? That’s so gay guys. Can we agree on that

[mishtershpock]

.

[just-a-random-bakugo-stan]

It would’ve been LESS GAY if they kissed because wdym now they’re forever together, intertwined in the arcane itself ? Never leaving each other side ? Twin flames finally reunited in the inky unknown of magic ? Soulmates always destined to find each other? To be with each other ? Together ? Only having each other ? LIKE WAS IT CASUAL ????

[meangirls-imagines]

Can I have a Janis 'Imi'ike x femme reader imagine where they’re friends and reader finds Janis’ sketchbook which is full of sketches of reader?

Life Imitates Art

WARNINGS: none, just fluff. janis being a gay mess.

Janis Imi'ike and Y/N Y/L/N have been best friends since they were in diapers.

Their parents were best friends in college and stuck together for years. So it was like they were destined to be together.

Y/N was there for Janis through everything, but they got even closer after the Regina incident. Janis had gone to Y/N's house crying after what happened and the two, along with Damian, spent the rest of that night watching the girl's favorite movies.

Janis fell in love with Y/N that night.

Years and years of denying their feelings brings them to senior year, aka "post-bitchy regina".

Everyone was friends so it was a lot easier to go through their last year together. Instantly, (without Janis and Y/N's knowledge), everyone decided that senior year was going to be "Project Get Y/N and Janis Together".

Regina, Janis, and Y/N all had homeroom together and Regina began texting in the group chat.

(Former) Queen Bitch👑: guys. they are staring at each other. the tension is suffocating.

Detective Gretchen🕵️‍♀️: OMG! That is ADORABLE!

Sexy Maus🐭: thats so qute

Nerd: awwww. guys, maybe we don't need a plan. let's let them work through it.

Beyonce: uh. have you met janis? that girl doesn't know how to act around y/n. we need to intervene. and there's only one way.

(Former) Queen Bitch👑: damian. no. not that.

Nerd: what is going on?

Beyonce: this is classified information. no one can tell janis or y/n this. karen? got it?

Sexy Maus🐭: what?

Detective Gretchen🕵️‍♀️: I got it. Now what is it?

Beyonce: Janis's sketchbook. It's got tons of beautiful drawings of Y/N in it. Regina and I stumbled upon it accidentally a couple of weeks ago.

Detective Gretchen🕵️‍♀️: OMG!!

Nerd: THAT'S SO CUTE!

Beyonce: I think it's time we subtly show Y/N the book.

That weekend, the group all met up at Janis's house for their weekly sleepover. Damian decided to put his plan into motion. Whenever Janis was distracted, he snuck upstairs and put her sketchbook in plain sight, then he snuck back downstairs.

Then he put it into motion.

"Hey, Y/N. I was wondering if I could have some ibuprofen? I have a headache and I know you always have some." The girl smiled and nodded, standing from her place next to Janis and heading upstairs.

Janis watched the girl go and turned back to see everyone smirking at her. "What?" Damian giggled. "Girl, keep it in your pants." Janis blushed. "What are you talking about?" Gretchen squealed. "You totally have a crush on Y/N! It's so cute!"

Janis blushed harder. "I do not have a crush on her! She's my best friend." Karen smiled. "Your best friend that you wanna kiss. Which is really cool because Gretchen is my best friend that I wanna kiss."

Everyone paused and looked at Gretchen, who was blushing harder than Janis. Regina broke the silence. "Okay, we'll come back to this. But Janis, they're right. You and Y/N have feelings for each other and I think it's time that you tell her. It's our senior year. We don't know what the future holds, we just don't want you to regret not telling her."

Janis took the blonde's words to heart and nodded. "Okay, I'll tell her." She got up and with the cheering from her friends, she went upstairs to talk to Y/N.

"Y/N, I need to tell you something."

Janis froze in her tracks. Y/N was looking at her sketchbook. Specifially, a portrait that she drew of Y/N. Janis stuttered over her words. "Y/N, I can explain."

"This is beautiful, Janis. Is this how you see me?" Janis swallowed hard and nodded, walking closer to Y/N.

"It's how I've always seen you." Y/N's breath hitched as Janis continued.

"Y/N. I love you. I've loved you since you comforted me after the incident with Regina. Maybe even longer. And I really wanna be with you. Those pictures I've drawn don't even compare to your actual beauty. Every time I look at you, the rest of the world melts away. And if you give me the chance, I really wanna be with you."

Janis couldn't say anything else because Y/N kissed her.

Y/N was kissing her.

Y/N WAS KISSING HER?

The girl's lips were a lot softer than Janis imagined. It was everything she imagined actually, and more. The two kissed for a minute before cheering made them break away from each other.

They looked to see their friends standing in the hallway, all smiling widely.

Y/N tucked her face into Janis's neck, hiding her blush. Damian spoke. "So?"

Janis smirked back at him. "My girlfriend and I will meet you guys downstairs."

[supersteiiar]

HIIIIIII❤️

Bribelle hcs if u hv anyyy?🥺

BOY AM I GLAD YOU ASKED

- briar’s “magic touch” as described by the show is having super hearing when she’s asleep. on days when she can’t keep herself awake faybelle makes sure to go to all of her classes for her and get her work/keep her updated on the latest gossip and news from around the school. in classic faybelle fashion she pretends to have no idea what briars talking about when she thanks her for it (or says some stupid stuff like “yeah well you’re my enemy and we have to be on equal footing”)

- them being “enemies” has always been more of a one-sided thing with faybelle being super dedicated to their rivalry and briar being like “well . i don’t hate her but if it keeps this cute girl around me i’ll play along”

- they’re both super competitive though so it works out great. they’re not fighting for the top spot in class or anything but they’re definitely teasing each other about scoring one point higher on a test or assignment

- ^ briar’s always willing 2 help faybelle study tho. invites her to “study parties” that turn out to just be her and faybelle LMAO

- i wrote abt this in a fic once but briar keeps sticky notes in her room with reminders to invite faybelle to her parties (bc of faybelle’s curse)

- they have each others coffee orders memorized because they’re gay as hell

- it takes them like twenty billion years to get together . not because either of them are oblivious to their feelings but because they’re scared to love each other . they’re both destined to be alone, destined to lose the ones they love the most. so even though they hang out 24/7 and the entire school considers them 2 be a couple, they don’t make it Official until like… post dragon games

- at that point the whole “300 years of service” thing scared faybelle so bad that she wants to make things official. and briars totally fine with that because lord knows shes been ranting to ashlynn and apple for AGES about how she “just wants to be faybelle’s girlfriend” LMAO

- faybelle shows her love thru acts of service (doing things for others when she could be doing them for herself) and briar shows hers through quality time (she has so little time but she wants to spend as much of it with faybelle as possible) . they both like gifts !

can u tell they’re my favorite ship LMAO

[ficklecat]

even more kkg headcanons

Gai loves using pet names. He calls Kakashi all manner of things when they’re in private together (if you’ve read my fics - among his favorites are “dear heart” and “precious thing.”) He also knows that Kakashi likes them, but gets a little embarrassed when he is called them in public, so he sticks to “rival,” which he considers to be their first pet name anyway.

Kakashi seldom uses pet names for Gai. When he does, he’ll keep it simple and usually just call him “love,” or sometimes if he’s feeling romantic, “darling man.” He saves “rival” for special occasions or when he wants to get a rise out of Gai - he loves how red his face gets when he whispers it to him in bed or even out in public after a sly innuendo. (He particularly likes to use it during a challenge to throw him off guard, which Gai insists is cheating).

Gai sometimes gets really awful phantom pains in his body, especially in the winter months. He’ll wake up in the middle of the night immobilized by these episodes, unable to speak or ask for help, unable to soothe himself, unable to move, while Kakashi sleeps next to him unaware. Gai is terrified by this, because it often feels like he’s going to die and he’s afraid he will one day and won’t be able to say goodbye to Kakashi (this is a big fear of his, anyway). But he doesn’t tell Kakashi when this happens. In the morning he’s groggy and sore and will chalk it up to “a bad night,” but he fears if he says anything about it, Kakashi will worry. It’s the only thing he hides from him.

Kakashi witnessed Gai’s phantom pain only once, when they were early in his recovery and still learning to navigate his healing. His entire body seized, he gasped in little hiccuped breaths, his body trembled and tensed so hard Kakashi was worried he’d pop blood vessels or rip his tendons. He didn’t know what to do, nothing seemed to work. Gai had told him afterward that there was nothing he could do, that really he could only wait until it passed. Kakashi had been terrified; Gai looked horrible, trapped in his body he once trusted now betraying him at will. He’d felt so useless to that horror, wounded that he couldn’t take his pain away. They cried long and hard together afterward, and though he’d never witnessed another episode again, Kakashi knows it happens. He feels guilty for this, but part of him is glad Gai doesn’t seem to have them in his presence. He hates to feel this way, but seeing him in so much pain is more than he can bear.

Kakashi and Gai still keep their own apartments all the way up until after Gai awakens from the aftermath of the eight gates. It’s Kakashi’s idea that they live together - he was admittedly fearful of not having his own space, so used to living alone for so long, and being so particular with his space and his things. He also felt a little skittish around the kind of commitment it took to live with someone. But he realizes quickly these things are trivial - almost losing Gai makes him realize Kakashi doesn’t care about anything as much as being with him.

Gai and Kakashi disagree on when they became “official.” Kakashi has a specific time in mind - shortly after he is dispatched from ANBU, when he kissed Gai for the first time with intention. Gai considers their relationship to be “transcendent” of any time frame - he insists he and Kakashi were always destined to be together, and as such, they always have been. There is no start date for him, he doesn’t pin it down. For him, Kakashi has always had his heart. Kakashi won’t admit this very readily but he can’t think of this without getting a little choked up. And he won’t argue the point either, because secretly, he knows Gai’s right.

[irenespring]

House MD Fanfic: "There Were Expectations" (House/Wilson)

My House MD 20th anniversary gift fic for @coffins-and-marbles , who asked for Wilson angst! I hope you like your gift!

Find the fic here!

Until the collection is published, find the fic below the cut!

---

Fic preview:

Wilson needs to get House the perfect Valentine's Day gift. He always knew what to get his previous partners, but dating House is different. Or is it not different enough? What if the path of close friends to lovers is going to backfire like it always does for him? What if this just another thing he is destined to mess up.

---

Thank you so much to everyone who will read when the collection is published!!

Comments help my day and my writing motivation!

------

It was supposed to be better. 

That’s the only thing Wilson can think as he paces a tacky Valentine’s Day-themed grocery store aisle at 3:21pm (late enough that he won’t have to hide anything in his desk where House will find it, early enough that he won’t need an excuse to ditch House for the evening).

He’s not even sure what “ it ” even refers to. 

His fucked up brain that can’t parse “happy” signals from “sad” signals from “fine” signals from “the world would be better without you” signals?

The rising panic that he wasn’t just “straight, with one exception” like had first assumed, and might be gay, like actually gay, capital G Gay, and holy fuck what is he supposed to do now?

The fear that House will really leave him this time, simmering then boiling then simmering again since Tritter showed up at the damn clinic?

He doesn’t know. He just really expected something to be better after House kissed him. 

It had felt life-changing at the time.

But he���s the same stupid Wilson, can’t make a decision for shit.

---

Wilson stares at House’s TV like it’s a particularly challenging algebra problem. There’s an answer in there, somewhere. A correct answer. And he has to get it right. He just has to. 

House—because he asked to be called “House” rather than “Greg,” which is a little absurd, but it also means that he calls Wilson “Wilson” rather than “James,” which is nice just because it’s not what Sam called him—pokes him with his foot.

“C’mon, pick something.”

“It’s your apartment. You can pick.”

“You’re my guest, and social custom dictates that you pick.”

“Oh yes, because you’re such a big fan of social custom.”

“Wilson. You have to pick.”

“Whatever you want is fine.”

It’s a trap, probably. A test, to see if he chooses something good, if he has the makings of a good friend. Wilson is moving to New Jersey soon, they’re going to be working together. And that makes them actual friends, instead of over-the-phone friends. They’re going to be spending actual time together every day, not just a few hours at conferences. It only makes sense that House needs to make sure Wilson is up to par.

He isn’t. He’s not sure in exactly what way, but he isn’t. It’s been nice, having a real friend. Wilson wants to keep that nice feeling of camaraderie, of closeness, of safety. The second he chooses wrong, he knows it will be gone. 

He doesn’t think House will hit him. He doesn’t have the cover that she had. If his wife slaps him, that’s sitcom comedy. If House slaps him, that’s assault. So House probably won’t slap him. But he could. He’s taller and stronger and faster than Wilson. He could. 

No. He won’t. More likely he’ll just mutter something about Wilson’s taste being terrible and just pick his own choice anyway. He can talk a big game, but he doesn’t want Wilson to choose. Wilson is bad at picking things. He’s bad at most things, really. It’s a miracle anyone puts up with him, especially House who doesn’t even seem to buy his “perfectly happy” facade. He’s going to ruin it. 

He has to remind himself that that scenario is good though. It ends with them still being friends. It ends where Wilson wants them to be: with House’s choice on the television, the two of them mocking the characters and laughing. House actually finds Wilson funny. It had taken him a while to actually convince Wilson of that, to get Wilson to make his own jokes, but it worked. They joke around together. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

But that’s what he always thought with her. But he always got it wrong and she got mad and would yell things at him. Later on she would shove him, smack him…but just when she was tired, it was never a big deal. Still, he learned very quickly that should just let everything go, let her lead. It was fine. She liked him. She said she did. That was as good as he was going to get, fraud and failure of a man that he is. But she still divorced him without even facing him, and the only thing that kept him together was that he had House instead. Now he’s not even going to have that.

He can’t do this.

“Wilson?” 

Shit. His breathing is coming too fast, House knows something is wrong. This is pathetic, he is pathetic. He needs to say something, but no words come out. 

“I-” he manages, “I’m fine.”

“Just pick something.” House’s voice is oddly patient. 

Wilson does like cooking shows. Maybe- 

No. House doesn’t like them, he gets frustrated that he can’t actually taste the food, and thus can’t verify whether or not the judges are full of shit. Wilson can’t pick something that House doesn’t like, that would be selfish. Selfish is bad, selfish makes him just another asshole. His selflessness sets him apart, it makes people like him. He wants House to like him. It seems unreasonable to ask that House like him as much as Wilson likes House, but just liking him a little bit would be enough. And that won’t happen if-

“You don’t pick, I break into your sparkly new office and replace all your books with some of my most favorite DVDs.” Wilson could fix that quick enough, and such a prank pales in comparison to the many doomsday situations floating in Wilson’s head in the event of a wrong choice. 

He stays silent.

“Is it Sam?” House asks, saying her name like a curse, his brow pinching in anger. He guesses that a lot, when Wilson does something he finds concerning. He is right more often than not. 

Wilson’s continued silence is close enough to a confirmation.

“She’s an evil scum bitch, Wilson. You let her mess you up, she wins.”

Wilson takes a deep breath. 

“Cooking show.”

House hates cooking shows. He grins anyway. 

“Alright.”

Wilson stares at House as the show’s intro music starts playing. He’s fairly certain that House knows, but he keeps his eyes on the flashing credits and B roll of chefs flipping pizzas and chopping vegetables. 

Wilson feels a strange fluttering in his stomach.

—

House was Wilson’s lifeline. People in the hospital joke that House is the parasite, draining Wilson of money, friends, and patients. That’s not true. House is Wilson’s place to go in the evenings when he doesn’t want to be alone. Wilson’s place to tell jokes inappropriate for the workplace. His place to relax. 

He’ll never relax again now. Wilson is cursed, doomed to repeat the same patterns over and over again. He makes friends, and soon enough they get ideas, and the relationship turns from friends to lovers and before long, everything is in ruins. Perhaps that’s the downside of realizing he likes men more than he’s ever liked women: the curse has spread to House. 

House would laugh if he knew Wilson’s concern. He puts curses in the same box as miracles, psychics, and magicians. Wilson would usually be right there with him. If there is a God, he doesn’t bother intervening in everyday life. He’s seen too many people die to believe in holy justice or mercy. 

Yet what other conclusion should Wilson draw? It happened with Sam, Bonnie, Julie, the women he hadn’t married, the women he had been involved with while he was married. Each time, he reviews his actions, what they could have possibly read into. A couple times, he’s even asked. No commonalities, just him. He can’t stay friends with anyone. 

Wilson’s never really been able to maintain a friendship with a man outside of House. He’s not sure why, but he’s never let his guard down, never escaped his courteous persona. He knows he’s gay now, that’s a different lens. Maybe he was afraid they’d see something about him, maybe he was afraid he’d see something about them. Something that would make his stomach flutter like it did with House, on those occasions that House was kind, or intense, or funny, or particularly clever. He could ask House, House always has some sort of theory.

Women were easier to befriend. They didn’t look down on Wilson’s perpetual agreeableness and sympathy. And Wilson could relax a bit once they did. Conversation came easier, and he never felt tense afterward, like he was expecting a strike. That didn’t come until the romance. And romance always came. They’d lean over and kiss him, and he’d feel that moment of panic before he remembered what to do, what other girls had liked. 

And from there, there were expectations. Things he had to do, that were expected of him. Valentine’s Day gifts like these lines of teddy bears, chocolates, roses. With his work hours, it was all he could do. Maybe House wouldn’t care so much, since he sees Wilson every day. Though that’s rarely good. Who wants to see Wilson every day? For all he knows, his marriages had lasted longer because he’d never been there. After all, he married Sam before he was a doctor, and she could only stand his presence after he took that second job for her.

Seeing Wilson was the surest way to realize all the ways he was inadequate. Perhaps he could find a patient tomorrow. Rearrange the schedule or something.

But House would see through that. House would come with him to the hospital and become a frowning shadow, making fun of his patients and playing “Hit the Intern” by throwing pens and paper clips. Then House would blame Wilson for making him spend Valentine’s Day at the hospital. And the resentment would set in. House is his best friend, but even he can’t escape.

He had been great friends with Bonnie. House had hated her well before they’d gotten together, well before House had even met her. Wilson had liked her, and she had taken up his time. She had been coming off a bad relationship, something Wilson knew something about. He’d told her things that he’d only ever told House. He’d gone with her to art shows and dancing lessons and museums. And then she’d kissed him, and everything fell apart. There was a difference between meeting her a few times a week to hang out and being in near constant communication between meeting for dates. A difference between being a part of Bonnie’s social sphere and the heart of that sphere. He could never meet her expectations. She had hated that he cared for House, she had hated that he couldn’t be a doting husband (the “like he was to House” had always been implied, until the yelling started). That disapproval weighed on him, until he would do anything to escape it. Then a woman made him feel different, made him feel so much better that it felt funny. And that was the end of that. 

He messes up. And then panics, and one of his friends will think that means they should kiss him, and he panics, and then he remembers what that woman wants. Before he knows it, he’s a cheater. Strangely, it had fit with Wilson’s image of himself. Who is more hated than the philanderer? Now they will see Wilson as he always was. 

His shield was too strong, however. They still liked him. He’d reach out, make friends, and the curse continued. 

What was he thinking, kissing House back? Well, for the first time, he hadn’t been thinking at all. He hadn’t panicked, he felt too alive to panic. 

This was bad. At least with previous times, his friendship with the women had been solid, uncomplicated. House had been out of rehab for less than six months, Tritter entered their lives less than a year ago. 

It’s possible their whole relationship is based on an emotional reaction to finally escaping the mess. One of the few emotional decisions House had ever made. One of Wilson’s few truly impulsive acts.

It must have felt like a great idea at the time. It must have felt like something that could fix him.

----

It’s starting to feel natural again. Which is good, because Wilson is kind of forgetting who’s supposed to be mad. 

Is it his turn, because House turned rehab into a farce, and is back to popping enough pills a day to fill one of those old-timey gumball machines?

Or is it House’s turn, because Wilson and Cuddy once again tried to “fix” him and he had to spend one day in a room with a rape victim and then several days in some sort of sad, far-away mood?

Probably House’s turn. Wilson never learns. He’s tried some sort of bullshit “return to humanity” scheme at least twice now. Three times, if he counts the time he tried to force House to have dinner with his parents. Given the few real, serious words House had spoken to him after the Girl In The Clinic fuck up, that was actually probably the worst one of all. So 3.5 times then.

Definitely House’s turn. 

But it’s not going to fix anything. Wilson will try it again. He knows that, even as the version of himself in this moment knows it will be a disaster. Because Wilson thinks that he needs to get House better. If only to stick it to the part of himself that knows he doesn’t want House to get better. He wants House to stay House. 

There’s a whole mess of reasons for that, probably. Something to do with the fluttery feeling he gets when House rakes his eyes over Wilson’s body and pronounces an insult about his tie. The warmth in his chest when they’re lying on the couch together, or playing cards in the middle of a hallway, and it feels like they’re the only two people in the world—because they are, at least to each other. The joy of watching House wreak chaos, then storm into Wilson’s office practically aglow with glee. The way House’s eyes light up with Wilson’s laugh. 

Small nice reasons building to one big nice reason. 

The nice reason that scares him the most: Wilson might be falling in love. Maybe he already has. Or maybe this is just a stupid crush. That would be a nice, stabilizing thought. But you don’t fantasize about a stupid crush for a decade—a new snippet of hot embraces or wholesome kisses popping up for every one you thoroughly pushed away.  

You don’t offer to spend the next ten years in prison for a stupid crush. 

That kind of certainty that you would give your life for someone—even when facing a dead-eyed cop with the exiled third cousin to House’s attractive smirk on his face—that means something. Something that would upend House and Wilson’s shaky equilibrium and set them on a path that Wilson knows leads to ruin. 

But luckily he has another reason to cling to whenever he gets too scared or too charitable to himself. The pathetic, evil reason:

Wilson doesn’t want to be the only broken one. 

If House was healthy and well-adjusted, he’d realize just how much of a fuck-up Wilson is. And he’d leave him. Because Wilson is the one who takes care of other people. No one takes care of Wilson. That’s just how it is. 

So to cover for the fact that he doesn’t want House to change, Wilson must continue to try to change him. 

And—Wilson is fairly sure about this—House must continue to provoke Wilson in order to be sure Wilson will stay. 

Wilson will always stay. So will House. Neither of them have ever truly wanted to leave, yet they can’t exactly say that to each other. And thus there will be another storm. But for now, there is calm.

“Are you angry at me?” House asks, faking casual with his eyes on the television and his arm splayed oh-so-nonchalantly against the back of the cushions. Wilson has the mad thought that if he scooted over, House’s arm would be around his shoulder. He dismisses it (more accurately, he stomps on it until it stays down) and focuses on the question. 

“No,” he says. This happens a lot: they both have reasons to be angry but decide it’s just not worth it. Not when they could be laughing at television idiots and gossipping about Xavier from Cardiology and his secret second family in Newark. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

House has always hated that answer. Sure enough, his brow furrows. He looks like a man out of a painting with that look. Stark and bold and breathtaking. Wilson wants to touch him, trace the lines on his forehead. But he doesn’t. House doesn’t want him to, can’t want him to. But if he did… 

Would things be different if Wilson made the first move? Would that break his curse? True love’s kiss breaks the curse. Maybe it’s not just noble princes and fair maidens, maybe it would work for two exhausted, haunted middle-aged men. Wilson still remembers how two years ago, drunk and high on Vicodin, House had leaned in, petted Wilson’s hair half-mockingly, and told him he was pretty. That has to mean something about something, but fuck if Wilson knows. 

House’s words jerk him back to reality. 

“Everything has a reason.” 

Wilson almost wants to laugh.

His belief in that Central Housian Principle ebbs and flows like a sinusoid graph. He believes it when he remembers Sam yelling and throwing a dish at him for forgetting her sister was coming to town, leaving him to cut his hand while cleaning up the shards. He doesn’t believe it when he’s diagnosing a seventeen-year-old champion mathlete with a stage three glioblastoma, and he has to mutter reassurances to the shaking kid as he sobs and clings. 

Wilson shakes himself out of mire this time, and tries to focus on House. He looks more intense than Wilson was expecting. Wilson secretly loves these moments, when House’s eyes bore into his and he’s important. This time he swears there’s a warmth in his eyes. The air suddenly feels charged. 

It’s nice. Wilson idly wonders what will break it, because he knows nice things don’t stay. Especially not with House. 

But he has an answer to give. 

“I don’t like change. I do like you.”

House stares at him, and Wilson realizes he has shocked the man who knows everything. He doesn’t have time to linger on that realization.

Wilson feels House’s hand on his cheek before he processes seeing him lunging forward. House’s eyes dart across Wilson’s face for a half a second, and Wilson is suddenly aware that his lips are slightly parted, and the tension in his jaw has vanished. He nods, a tiny motion, but of course House notices. 

His lips are chapped and not as soft as any Wilson has kissed before. But that doesn’t matter. The second they touch all thought flees his brain and he kisses back. He has no idea what to do. Somehow he’s a gay man nearing forty who has never kissed a man before. It’s hard to worry about that now, though. He feels a little bit on fire, the flames growing and growing as House makes a sound against his lips and begins pressing Wilson against the couch. 

Wilson can’t think, he can want. 

Either this is the craziest or most easily predictable thing they’ve ever done. And there’s no turning back. 

-----

There’s no fixing him. 

What is he even doing here? House will hate this. Any of this. What’s the point in choosing either a teddy bear, or a plastic rose, or a box of chocolates that will taste like candle wax when the mocking reaction will be the same? 

Make a choice .

He can’t. He’s only able to summon that weird sense of certainty when in House’s presence.

All of a sudden, everything is too much. His breathing is coming too quickly, and his stomach is in knots. He can’t be here. He can’t make this choice. Can’t do this again. Can’t try and watch everything apart. Not with House. He can’t, can’t, can’t can’t can’t-

The displays seem to be laughing at him, searing their gaudy images into his brain. Perfect stock cartoons of people in love, smiling with a perfect red heart between him.

That kind of love is for other people, not for him. 

None of this is for him. 

He’s only distantly aware of his feet carrying him out of the store. He hasn’t even bought anything. Go back in . But he keeps walking towards his car.

There are only a few other drivers, because most people are at work. Wilson should be at work. Yet he left his work and his patients who need him to stare at a grocery store display and do nothing . He has no gift for House, no plan, no way to save himself.

The thought of facing House at the hospital makes him panic, so he heads for their apartment. What will he even do there? He doesn’t know, it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s alone, he should be fine. 

And because he was stupid enough to think that last thought in its entirety, House’s motorcycle is in its parking spot, when Wilson knows he rode it into work. Wilson contemplates turning around, heading back to work, doing his best to act like a functioning human being as he prescribes poison and comforts his victims. 

No, there’s too much chance that House has seen him. And he doesn’t want to give House any more evidence that he’s a coward. 

Each step towards the door feels like he’s climbing Mount Everest, but he makes it.

When he swings the door open, the first thing he notices is that their dining table is piled high with gifts. The same types of gifts Wilson just fled, tacky Valentine’s Day fare. The universe has a fucked up sense of humor. 

“If this is a burglar, get out while you still can. I’ve got a gun the length of a refrigerator with your name on it.”

“No you don’t!” Wilson calls back, the instinctive smile clashing wildly with his lingering terror. 

When House steps into the Wilson’s line of sight, he looks like he actually might have preferred that burglar.

“Wilson?”

“Present. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same question.”

“I asked first.”

“We both know I’m going to be more annoying about it.”

“ House .”

Strangely, that tone of voice has always been more effective against House than any logical argument. Because Wilson doesn’t really need an argument, not when he has the pile of what House had once called “capitalist fake-outs for love.” It makes him feel better than any words could ever have. At least he thinks that, until House says:

“Fine. I know tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and you get off on mushy crap, but I…couldn’t decide on what to get. I might have panicked a little bit, but what’s more likely is that all the sugary nonsense sent me into an abnormal allergic reaction-”

“I got it.”

“This is your cue to fall maddeningly in love with me,” House deadpans, but he’s still fidgeting, with his eyes darting between his pile of offerings and Wilson’s face.

He’s scared too.

“I don’t think I need an entire shelf of gifts for that,” he says. Then he waits to see if there is going to be any lingering on that comment. He doesn’t expect a reciprocal statement, he doesn’t care. The dining table is covered in reciprocal statements.

“My turn. What are you doing here?” House finally asks. 

It’s easy to admit now.

“I thought you’d expect something, but I couldn’t make a decision, so I came back here to contemplate my failures.”

The judgment Wilson had been torturing himself over never comes. 

“If you didn’t get me anything, I get to keep half of this stuff.”

“Sounds fair.”

They stare at each other, not talking. Wilson doesn’t know what to say, he doubts House has any ideas either. 

“Maybe we should talk,” Wilson finally offers. A bit of honest conversation might be good. It’s certainly the healthy thing. So naturally, House refuses.

“I’d rather spend the day in the clinic.” Harsh words, but understandable. 

“How about a cooking show?” Wilson asks bizarrely, not entirely sure of where it came from. But it does make House grin.

He takes a few shaky steps forward, before grabbing Wilson by the arm and dragging him towards the couch. 

“Deal,” he says, and leans in to kiss him.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

you get to spend the day with a few (let's say 2-4) of your ocs or name only characters that you like - who are you picking and why?

Ooooh, making me choose among my darlings! Very hard because I would so love to hang out with almost every one of them. (I mean, there are a FEW that I think I’d avoid — per my latest fic, for example, I think Éomund would just be exhausting to be around! But I love most of my people dearly!)

On the Name Only front, it’s got to be Guthláf and Wídfara, hands down. Wíd is so, so precious to me, in that I just want to scoop him up and hug him and stroke his hair and assure him that everything is going to be OK. And I unabashedly wrote Guthláf as a guy that I would fall in love with if he really existed (destined to be unrequited on my part since he’s gay, but oh well!). To be the little introvert that Guthláf the Golden Retriever adopted as his latest Extrovert Project would be a DREAM, and I might never recover from the experience. Wíd and I would just sit together and make heart eyes at him all day.

If I had to pick one OC, I’m going to pick Théodred’s fiancée Eadlin, who is definitely my favorite of all my OCs. As a lady in her 30s who has made some unconventional choices in life and came from a humble background, she and I have some common traits to bond over. And while she’s a smart and generous person, she has very firm boundaries and does not suffer bullshit from anyone. I struggle a little on that front, so I’d like to learn from her! Finally, since I think Théodred exists a bit too much in the story to be considered a Name Only guy, hanging out with Eadlin gets me the chance to smuggle him into my answer, too, even though he might not technically qualify for this exercise! They’re a two-fer!

Thank you so much for the question! ♥️ It gave me a great chance to think back on some of my absolute favorite characters!!!!

[snapghoul]

Got ya sippin’ my sweet tea

Tyler’s turn to loose the game and he’s a little confused.

Note: completely forgot to write Kate & Tyler’s side of the little get together game. They’re so cute and I love them. Kate and Bradley are menaces, she also calls him anything but Rooster.

Warnings: none

Song: Too Easy - Tanner Adell

Tyler was reaching his breaking point. Usually a laid-back guy, it took a lot to get him this annoyed, but Jake seemed intent on pushing his buttons. Growing up with his twin, he knew just how annoying Jake could be.

“What’s that?” he asked, noticing Kate slip a new Polaroid into the passenger sun visor. He caught a glimpse of it and immediately recognized the absence of blonde hair.

Kate’s eyebrows shot up as she flipped the visor down again. “I managed to trap our fighting chicken.”

To Tyler’s surprise, it wasn’t Jake in the photo like he expected. This little game they were all playing was spiraling out of control, and he could see the mischievous glint in Kate’s eyes that he loved so much. It was Bradley. That damn tall chicken man.

Kate had recently stocked up on film for her Polaroid camera, and she was making the most of it. Tyler’s eyes narrowed as he focused on the snapshot: Kate and Bradley were crammed into the frame, her lips pressed against his cheek, while Bradley beamed with a goofy grin and pink-tinted cheeks. It looked like one of those cheesy couple’s photos.

Jealousy flared within him. For three days, Jake had been trying to steal Kate away, nudging Tyler to make a move, while he, in turn, had been trying to distract Bradley. But what he hadn’t noticed was how Kate seemed glued to Bradley, genuinely enjoying his company. Did he really stand to lose this brilliant and captivating woman to someone named after a bird?

“Crash and burn, Tyler” he could hear his brother’s taunting voice in his head.

“I had to wrestle him; he’s like an actual chicken! I had to chase him ‘round and pin his wings,” Kate laughed, recounting the moment.

Tyler felt his mouth go dry, his expression a mix of disbelief and confusion. He caught his reflection in her eyes, dumbfounded and wordless. He felt a sting of rejection, despite having never even made a move.

His mouth snapped shut as he fixed his gaze straight ahead in the parked truck, the field around them silent. “So, Rooster…”

Tyler caught Kate rolling her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips as she leaned back in her seat. “I think he’s a sweetheart with an edge. He’s… well, he’s a rooster—flashy and protective.”

Tyler bristled at her words. So Bradley Bradshaw was better than him? Wasn’t he a sweetheart too? He’d always been as sweet as his dad's iced tea, but jealousy began to simmer within him.

“No wonder Jake likes him. I totally get the appeal; those two just need to kiss already,” Kate mused.

Huh? Tyler’s thoughts skidded to a halt.

“Wait, no, they did! He gave me $20 last night! They had to kiss! He didn’t tell me anything!” Kate exclaimed, remembering the bet they had made. Her eyes widened as she realized she had just spoiled the surprise. “Oh no, you weren’t supposed to know that.”

“What?” Tyler felt lost. He knew Jake had a thing for Bradley, but now it felt like he was in way over his head.

Kate sighed, acknowledging the end of their game. It was all out in the open now, especially after Bradley had given her that $20. Where Jake went, Tyler seemed destined to follow.

“Bradley and I saw you two trying to get each other to make a move, so we made a bet to play along. Honestly, Jake caved way quicker than I expected.” A smile grew on her face as she observed his confusion.

“What happened to ‘if you feel it, chase it’? C’mon, tornado wrangler, are you going to take me out on a proper date?”

“What—what about Bradley?” Tyler stammered, still processing everything, gesturing toward the picture of Bradley.

Kate chuckled softly, her smile making his heart race. “Bradley’s gay, Tyler! And I’ve decided he’s my new brother.” She spoke with confidence; both of them were only children, and she felt a strong connection with him.

“Oh.” Tyler’s face flushed crimson as he stared at the steering wheel, feeling foolish for not catching on sooner.

Leaning over the console, Kate pressed a kiss to his cheek and then his nose. “I’m free Friday, cowboy. Pick me up at eight?”

Tyler laughed, nodding. “Eight o'clock sharp. Wear your best boots—we’re going dancing.”

[sitp-recs]

hiya hiya!! do you by any chance have updated recs where draco is harry’s gay awakening or vice versa and draco is trans?

Hi there! A couple fics came to mind, not sure if they’re what you’re looking for but you can also check the rec lists compiled by @magicaltrans here and here. Enjoy :)

Which Merely That Is by @bafflinghaze (M, 3.5k) - trans male Draco, ace!Drarry

In which Harry notices changes in Draco (he’s a late bloomer, apparently), but that’s not nearly as important as the time they spend together.

The Virtues of Hygiene and the Binary of Labour by @piarelei (E, 14k) - AU, trans male Harry

Draco does what he always does every autumn; packs his bag and follows a path back home. This time, Potter just happens to travel the same roads. It never is about the destination.

The Only True Goal of the Universe by @punk-rock-yuppie (E, 22k) - trans male Draco

It comes up, as most juvenile things do, in a game of Truth or Dare.

Out and the Open by @henrymercury (M, 74k) - trans female Draco, cis female Harry

The war is over, and Draco finally has the courage to decide who she is. The war is over, and Harry finally has the freedom to decide what she likes.

[bengiyo]

Be My Favorite Ep 11 Stray Thoughts

Last week, we all fell into intense brain rot over the ace!Kawi discourse, and did not appreciate Aou in those shorts enough or the fact that Max FUCKS. We suspect that Pisaeng may or may not have time traveled. Kawi is dealing with some of his own intimacy issues. It feels like they had their first time at the end of the episode. Also, Pear is not happy with her mom for abandoning them, Pisaeng’s mom pulled a complete reversal to support him, and Kawi reflected on his dad urging him to live his life for himself.

It’s like they knew I still was skeptical of Pisaeng’s mom, Daow, so they have her working out her issues with Pear’s dad, Phong.

I’m glad that Pear found a way to give herself peace about her mom.

I like Pear reading a poem over these scenes. The bed kissing was pretty decent.

Okay, the morning after scene was really sweet. I liked that.

I’m not sure how I feel about the flashback to a conversation we weren’t part off with the magic guy. I don’t mind the show laying out its core thesis about being present in your life and focusing on the things you can control explicitly for the audience, but it felt a bit weird. I feel like I need to brace for high-impact drama now.

Everyone has graduated, but what did Not do after getting wrecked so hard?

Domestic montages, my beloved.

I’m encouraged that these two stayed together for years, and maintained friendships with the characters we liked.

Sponge baths, my beloathed.

This timeline is too enjoyable, and Kawi doesn’t seem to have a job. They’re going to take this timeline from us. What happened to Kawi’s music aspirations?

Oh, never mind. Seems like Kawi is still involved in music.

Is Kawi about to get sick and die and then force Pisaeng to travel back to the past (Samurai Jack)?

Okay, but this actually just got super heavy. This show has not been soft about its support for gay political issues, and medical care is one of the big concerns queer people face without family and domestic protections. Some of my actual work is helping couples circumvent these blocks.

I am genuinely invested in this terminal medical condition plotline.

Oh ho! So he does go back to the past (Samurai Jack) and now we return to the day of the amusement park, now with double the time travel shenanigans!

Okay, high-key I love this. I haven’t been this stressed by the thematic implications within a BL in a really long time. We had the magic man imply that we can’t alter our destinies, but we can fix our mistakes. Kawi wasn’t destined to win the lottery, and it feels like they’re saying he wasn’t destined to save his dad either. Pisaeng is convinced that he is the reason that Kawi got sick and is facing death in the future even a Max insists that it couldn’t be his fault. Now he’s gone back to the past and altered the happy timeline we saw completely. Now he and Kawi will both face each other as time travelers trying to fix what they believe to be their mistakes in the finale. I’m so excited because we all felt that they went into that bed scene without clearing something, and now we have to face it.

[guess-that-ship]

S9 Round 2

Red and Blue gays (No, not like that)

cw: referenced homophobia

Closeted gay noble guy (blue) finds himself in an arranged marriage to a girl. Fortunately, his aunt clocked that he was gay ages ago and he finds out the girl he’s marrying (red) is also gay. They go on to have one of the most loving marriages in the series, both a testament to the strength of their platonic love and how badly everyone else’s relationships are going.

They care each other so deeply that Blue’s eventual love interest genuinely believes they’re in love and Red had to play wingman to get him to make a move. They have faced off against monsters and gods together. He was helping her with her ten year plan to overthrow the government. Red jumped into a nightmare dreamscape to save blue.

In conclusion, red and blue make the most beautiful shade of lavender.

Birdsong

cw: murder mention

She's a woman who exists beyond normal boundaries of time & space, who's somehow both a ghost and the reincarnation of her own great-uncle. He's the detective investigating her murder, and was somehow destined to help her long before he ever knew she existed. They've never met while alive, but they both can't stop haunting each other all the same.

The detective and the ghost keep circling each other throughout time loops and dreams, where both of them seem eternally trapped in the same series of rooms. The woman might be trying to guide the detective to the right path, or she might be a vengeful corrupted soul keeping him stuck forever. The detective might be stumbling closer to a way for both of them to escape, with the ghost ascending past her current status -- or he might somehow be her murderer, thanks to the time loop they've both entered. Neither of them seem to have the answers yet, but there is the lingering possibility that the only way for them to move past their current state is to become a part of the very environment they can't leave.

[hoppipolla]

Red and green in the Puttyuban Bar scene

Nuey is said to love wearing green which earned them the nickname "K̄heīyw kathoey” (green queen). (Thank you Vi for the clarification <3 @disasterbabygirlnick)

Green is often associated with nature and healing for spring, the greenest of seasons, is the season of new beginnings, bringing rebirth to a sleeping world.  

This might be a bit far-fetched but the way Nuey dances reminds me of the wind blowing through trees, rustling their leaves. The way they gracefully moves their hips while lifting their arms up, their whole body seems to follow a melody only they can hear. The tree imagery is quite relevant when you consider Nuey’s backstory. James tells Jom that Nuey had to flee Phranakorn to come here and find a new place to stay where they could be safe from violence. Their dance is proof that they have taken root in this city, that although they went through a lot, they can finally let their “green queen” blossom. 

What I really want to point out though is that Yai is also wearing green, a green suit to be precise. Just like @respectthepetty always says, colours mean things, especially in a context so full of subtext. 

The Puttyuban Bar is a place which embraces queerness and allows everyone to “vent out [their] repressed feelings”, but most importantly, it is Yai’s favourite place. 

“In fact, I only discovered it recently. It’s very secretive. So much that not many people know about it.”

I may be completely wrong but when I rewatched this ep, I couldn’t help but think how these words can so easily be interpreted in different ways: quite literally — Yai has discovered a new bar recently that not many people know about — or you can see them as the embodiment of Yai’s self-discovery journey — him falling in love with Jom and the fact that only his sister and perhaps Prik knows that he is queer. As always, I’m over-analysing things so do whatever you want with this interpretation.

What Yai’s father says to Dech might imply that he suspects Yai of not being straight from a young age but that doesn’t mean Yai knew he was queer when he was young. You can feel different and still take a lot of time figuring it all out. Anyway, I’m most likely wrong about this so let’s move on.   

You can tell Yai feels at ease bringing Jom in this bar and that feeling of inner peace is embodied by the colour green. But just like there are different shades of green, the green Nuey wears isn’t like the green Yai wears. Nuey is in full bloom whereas Yai is experiencing his first spring. 

However what I love most about this whole scene in the bar is how it shows Jom and Yai to be so complementary. 

Jom is wearing red and perfectly fits in the bar decor which is Christmas themed (combination of red and green) although it’s his first time there. So is James. The collusion between him and James — they're both wearing red clothes — is reinforced by the fact that they both know they’re gay. By wearing red clothes they feel like a part of the bar (regulars if you will) whereas Yai stands out by wearing green. Although he does stand out, he isn’t out of place because the bar is decorated with red and green ornaments. 

(Look at them!! Then look at the garlands!! Even the curtains at the entrance.)

We know that IFYLITA is a story about time-travel and reincarnation and that Yai and Jom are destined to meet. They both feel deeply connected to each other and they feel whole when they’re together. I feel like them wearing red and green, the colours of the Puttyuban bar, a bar that encourages people to be themselves, is quite significant and shows how important they are to each other. Just like red and green are complementary colours, they both belong together. 

Bonus: Yai’s tie has hints of red. 

[hellsvestibule]

I do think it’s funny that people have more tolerance and patience for the house queerbaiting. Like, don’t get me wrong, i remember there being more discourse about the queer coding of House when it was actually airing, but I feel like a lot of the queer people I know including myself have more reflective fondness for House than the likes of it’s imitators even though House is idk, arguably more meanspirited? But it feels more meanspirited at the expense of the characters than the audience. House and Wilson, do not know how fucking gay they are, and how they are clearly destined to be together, and House is sort of a shit person in a way that gets called out more often than praised. Them being homophobic at each other over a woman actually just makes them come off as more gay and what you’re supposed to find funny and pathetic feels more like, this denial of their bond bc house has gotta be all manly man and drag Wilson into it. Than just ha ha they’re so gay, but it’ll never happen. And on that note the ending of the show from what I remember has like, no heterosexual explanation. These 2 that have been flirting the whole show run away together. But it’s not gay. But also I struggle to think of any straight man finding it relatable and coming up with a heterosexual explanation. It sort of felt like a fever dream at the time which is why I think people didn’t bring it up as that kind of weird territory between queerbaiting and queer rep for so long, even though BBC Sherlock wanted what House had so bad. Which is part of why I didn’t even watch it? Man I’ve seen House I don’t think your Sherlock could get more petty and gay than that even if they fucked on screen.

[rimqueen]

Okay but why are Girl Jimmy and Guy Curly giving me Kishibe/Quanxi vibes?! Like he’s in love with her, has confessed to her, and she just does not give a fuck. She eventually tells him she likes girl (but not in a "gay" way…like okay Jimmy) except instead of him being like “I know” and accepting it like Kishibe, he’s delusional and thinks they’re going get married and this is just a “phase.” Like he’d be too busy daydreaming about their wedding (never happening) while you’re literally eating Jimmy out in front of him like she doesn't like you Curly pls

LMFAOO w kishibe he’s pathetic but he knows when to stop funnily enough I did write a kishibe quanxi fic that got me cancelled a few years back where he got drunk and tried to rape her but she kicked his ass. but yes curly is actively worse bc he thinks like oh they grew up together! it’s destined to be! Jimmy is going to grow out of her kissing girls phase and marry me! and even when they’re like pushing 40 they are Not married and Jimmy has probably fucked girls in front of him and he’s still holding out hope

[mbavholidayexchange]

to: @rbquartz​ from: @an-animagi​ 

Title: Red | Rating: General Audiences | Word Count: 2,368 

this title is a reference to the song “The Red Means I Love You” by Madds Buckley

They’re sat in a treehouse when Sarah brings it up.

“Hey, do you have any plans for Christmas?” She asks, and Erica almost bites back at her to look around. If she had plans, she wouldn’t be sat with her girlfriend, in a treehouse they scared some little kids away from. 

“No,” She replies curtly instead, and she watches as the brunette nods. 

“I assumed so, but I just wanted to make sure.” Sarah finally looks up from her phone, and the blonde doesn’t even pretend she hadn’t just been studying the soft brown of her skin and the dark chocolate of her eyes. Sometimes she thinks she could lose the remains of her mortality in those eyes, in their piercing glance and their gentle smile.

Those same eyes, ebony irises carved perfectly into spheres, gaze into her own cerulean ones from across the small space separating them. Erica watches as the brunette’s lips part, saliva making them shine in setting sunlight, before her attention is captured by the sweet sound of Sarah’s half-dry voice.

“Would you like to do something together? On Christmas, I mean.” Comes the clarification that the blonde had already expected, and she barely hesitates before answering.

“Ugh, why would I celebrate some Christian holiday? They have a whole thing against vampires, don’t they?” At Sarah’s incredulous eyebrow raise, Erica scoffs in offence. “And gay people! God, Christians hate us so much.” Turning back to the phone in her hands, Sarah rolls her eyes in amusement as her girlfriend huffs angrily.

A few moments pass in silence, the brunette scrolling through something on her phone as the blonde picks at her manicured nails. If Erica had a heart, she thinks it would be racing in her chest and thundering in her ears. But the one she has is destined to never beat again, so instead she merely imagines the warmth in her abdomen as she watches Sarah smile smugly as she looks back up.

“Actually, over sixty percent of people state that they celebrate Christmas completely secularly, so we don’t have to treat it as a Christian holiday.” She tilts her head as she finishes her sentence, knowing that Erica will bend to her whims if she tries hard enough, and that this was just making sure the fish was secured onto the end of her line. 

With a sigh, the blonde rolls her eyes and deflates. “Fine,” She starts, and sits back up as she continues, “But where would we even go for our little ‘celebration’?” Her hands had risen up to form quotation marks, but she drops them into her lap and raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the brunette.

Sarah thinks for a moment, idea running through her head and being stopped due to their obvious flaws. Erica’s mom wouldn’t want them over, and neither of Sarah’s parents would particularly care but they didn’t know about the vampire stuff or the relationship stuff, so both of them were out. 

“This tree house,” She decides in the end. Erica gives her a questioning look, blue eyes sharp as ice, and the brunette continues. “No one will come here anymore, we can meet up beforehand like we did today and come here together.”

“Okay, this poor excuse of a tree house can do.” Agrees the blonde with another sigh, her favourite thing to do even if she doesn’t have to breathe. “What will we even do? Just hang out?”

“Well, I was thinking we could decorate to make it more festive.”

“Festive? We’re already outside in the cold, I don’t think we can get more ‘Christmas-y’ than that.”

“Erica, we literally do not feel the cold.”

“Ugh, I can still use it as a point!” Scoffs the blonde, while Sarah rolls her eyes affectionately. Forming her face into something innocent rather than feral, Erica asks, “Well, can we at least go on a hunt together?” In reply, her girlfriend gives her a look of disappointment, one of exasperation that already tells her the answer the brunette will give.

“What?” Erica asks first, not giving Sarah a chance to speak. “You have a nice meal on Christmas, don’t you? This could be ours!” 

“Do you really want to run into Rory and have to help him find Santa to taste his blood?” The darker skinned girl asks, her tone completely incredulous. The blonde immediately lets her face twist into one of disgust, unwilling to even think about the teenage boy who never seemed to mature.

Well, in the sense of his behaviour. None of the three would ever physically mature, trapped inside their teenage bodies for the rest of eternity. Or until someone got smart and stabbed a stake through one of their hearts. Sometimes Erica wanted nothing more than to do that to Rory, but this wasn’t the time nor place to think about wanting to kill someone she had known for years.

Instead, it was the time for her to stare at her girlfriend with wide eyes, silently begging her to agree. They didn’t hunt together often, mainly due to Sarah refusing to drink human blood for as long as possible, and even though Erica was fine hunting alone she wanted to enjoy something with her girlfriend, so if she was being forced to celebrate a Christmas she was getting a joint hunt.

“We can just share a blood bag or two?” Offers the brunette, already knowing that she’s fighting a losing battle. The way she doesn’t meet the blonde’s bored eyes says it all.

“It’s better when it’s fresh,” Erica states, knowing full well that the difference between blood directly from a body and blood from a plastic bag is barely discernible. She smirks as she listens to Sarah’s sigh of defeat, a sharp twist of her lips which softens to a smile when her girlfriend looks back at her. 

“You can go on a hunt, but I won’t go with you if you do.”

“Aw, shame, we could make a nice little break from sitting in a stupid treehouse.”

“Hey,” Sarah says, her tone much lighter and more playful. “Don’t call the treehouse stupid.” She looks around, brown eyes tracing each wooden wall before they rest on her girlfriend. “And fine, I’ll go with you.”

“Woohoo,” Comes the half-hearted cheer, part of a smile on Erica’s face. The pair sits in silence for a moment, before the blonde, glancing to the side of the brunette, speaks again. “Hunting with you is more fun than hunting alone.” She bears her feelings in front of her heart, speaks her thoughts and prepares herself to shut down into a husk of who she is.

With a soft, gentle smile, Sarah replies, “Come here, you sap.” She begins to get up, growing closer to her girlfriend before their hands tangle together. Erica leans forwards, resting her pale forehead against Sarah’s darker skin, and they glance into each other’s eyes before the blonde shuts hers. 

Their lips press together delicately, a grazing touch that sends sparks down Erica’s spine like every other kiss they have shared. She feels a hand brush the hair out of her face and the pair are like one, melted together by the heat gathering at their lips. Time slows around them, a thick sludge they cannot feel as they become each other’s universe.

Then they pull apart, and though the moment is not over it is certainly less electrifying as they face the reality of a string of saliva hanging between them, as they face the reality of the world waiting for them to slip up outside of the comfort of a treehouse up a random tree in a forest.

“Same time, same place tomorrow?” Asks Sarah, licking her bottom lip with half lidded eyes. Erica nods, her words failing her as all she thinks about is running her fingers through her girlfriends long, dark hair and kissing her in places that are not her lips.

And as the brunette starts climbing down the ladder, Erica wonders what she did in her life to deserve Sarah and her love.

-~=~-

As Sarah listens to her girlfriend rant about their geography teacher and the latest offence he had committed, she can’t help but be distracted. 

It is one of their last few days at school, only a week left until Christmas, and she really doesn’t mean to interrupt Erica when she asks, “Do you want to help me find a tree?” The blonde stares at her for a moment, expression filled with surprise at the interruption and then confusion at the question.

“But we already have a tree?” She replies, tone dripping with a questioning tone. “The one with the treehouse, that’s our tree.”

“No, I mean a Christmas tree,” Sarah clarifies, and she watches as her girlfriend rolls her cerulean eyes with a scoff.

They spend three days finding the perfect Christmas tree together.

It’s not very tall, not if they wanted it to fit in the treehouse, and it looks like it might be alive, even though both of them know it’s not. Sarah finds it kind of funny, that two seemingly living beings bought a seemingly living object, but she decides not to think about it too long or too hard. Thinking about how she’s dead now is guaranteed to ruin her mood.

They had bought some decorations, cheap fairy lights to stick up on the walls and some baubles from Walmart which the cashier had sworn were the cheapest they would find. Erica had offered to steal them, but Sarah wanted the experience of shopping together for Christmas rather than having to convince the police that her girlfriend hadn’t stolen anything.

She wanted at least one normal teenager experience, and preferably when she was still actually seventeen as well. Their bodies would stay seventeen forever, but that didn’t mean Sarah would always act like a seventeen year old, and she wanted to enjoy one thing before graduation. Or the day she would have graduated. Education was complicated once you became immortal.

A lot of things were, and if you were to ask Erica she would tell you one of them was putting up fairy lights.

-~=~-

They are sat across from each other in the cramped tree house yet again, this time both holding gifts in their hands. Erica can’t help the false beating in her chest, and she tries to ignore it as she scowls up at the twinkling lights instead. She is wearing a longer skirt and a blouse, not something she would be caught wearing for any other occasion but she decided to make an exception for Sarah.

Speaking of, the brunette wears a knee-length dress adorned with a thick cardigan, her dark hair fashioned into waves that frame her bronze skin perfectly. Erica notices the sharp eyeliner and the touches of soft blush, and she can feel the warmth swell in her abdomen and her chest as she admires her girlfriend.

“Are you ready?” Sarah asks, and the blonde has to blink to remind herself that a treehouse is not the place to imagine being intimate. She looks up into the other girl’s eyes, soft ebony swelling with excitement, and she nods.

They exchange gifts, both beginning to unwrap them simultaneously. The red and white plaid rug beneath them is soft, and Erica nervously runs a hand along its surface before continuing to pull away the wrapping paper. She reveals a small necklace, a heart sitting in the centre, and her eyes widen.

She gently lifts it off of the paper, staring at the small heart-shaped compartment as she places the wrapping paper to the side. Opening the locket, she feels tears brim her eyes as she sees the picture of herself and Sarah, holding each other in a tight embrace as they share a delicate kiss beneath a mistletoe plant.

“I had Benny take the picture,” Comes Sarah’s voice, a loving tune to Erica’s ears, and the blonde looks up to face her girlfriend. She doesn’t have it in her to care that the wizard had watched them kiss for long enough to take a photo. Not right now.

“It’s wonderful,” She whispers, and she knows that the brunette hears it when a soft smile appears on her face. She clips the necklace around her neck, and it stands out against the white of her pristine blouse. Distantly, she hears the wrinkling of wrapping paper as Sarah continues opening her own present, but Erica is too busy thinking of the gift she had been given.

Quiet cooing interrupts her thoughts, and she looks back up from the locket to see her girlfriend smiling at a teddy bear. The blonde smiles too, seeing the joy on the other girl’s face being enough to make her happy, as she watches the moment Sarah finds the sewn on vampire fangs in the bear’s mouth.

“Name it whatever you like,” Erica states, and she watches a mischievous glint appear in her girlfriend’s eyes. She decides to be nice and not indulge in an impulsive decision she knows Sarah will regret. “But first, we go eat.”

The light leaves the brunette’s eyes, and her smile dims but does not disappear. “Fine dining awaits!” The blonde exaggerates, hoping that she hasn’t completely ruined the moment by deciding to be thoughtful about the future of the bear. The corners of Sarah’s mouth twitch upwards, and Erica decides to take it as a win.

As they begin getting up to leave the treehouse, they come face to face and without much thought, Erica shuts her eyes and leans forwards. Their lips meet again, this time in a kiss that deepens in love and desperation, but the magical feeling is the same. Sparks still fly around them, warmth still grows in the blonde’s chest, and she briefly imagines that it feels this good for her girlfriend, too.

When they finally break apart, both panting even though neither of them need to breathe, Erica hopes that every kiss they share will send shivers of electricity down her body and melt the ice growing inside of her.

She will need it if they plan on spending many more Christmasses out in the Canadian winter.