#my family had christmas dinner early and i literally ran ahead of my family from the car when we got home

[wholesomemendes]

The Winter Ball Date

College/Friends to Lover Au

Summary: When one year you get asked to the annual Winter Ball by someone other than Shawn, the two of you realize what you’ve been looking past for years.

Author’s Note: Long time no see! This is part of Julia’s Winter Writing Challenge by @wondershawns and I am so excited to have participated! My setting prompt was “A knock on the window” and the line “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this”. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, I love hearing any type of feedback and I love you all x

Word Count: 8.4k

Presents, Christmas music, your mother’s famous cookies on your tongue, all playing one by one in your mind. The feeling of just being home again instead of in a small, stuffy dorm seemed so close, yet so far away and you couldn’t help but wish that this last month would fly by. A soft nudge to your foot broke you out of your thoughts, “What’s got you in a daze?” You blinked your eyes rapidly to focus your thoughts to the present once again, turning your gaze to the curly haired boy next to you with a bright smile on his face. 

“I’m just thinking about Christmas and being home again,” you sighed dreamily, your head coming to rest on your hand. 

“Christmas is over a month away, you’re better off worrying about finals if you’re thinking that far ahead,” he laughed as a hand came up to lightly push your shoulder.

You cast a harsh glare at him through the dim light of the library, “It’s never too early to start thinking about Christmas. Aren’t you excited?”

“Of course I’m excited.” Shawn leaned back against his chair looking into space, “I get to go home and see family and I only have to worry about my sister instead of a bunch of rowdy frat boys.”

You let out a chuckle at his words, “Aren’t you also a rowdy frat boy?”

“You wound me.” He dramatically placed a hand over his heart, “Besides, I’m more excited to annoy you every day over break.”

“You already annoy me every day.”

“Maybe, but it’ll be much more convenient than me walking all the way across campus to get to your dorm.” You couldn’t lie that he did have a point there. The two of you had been best friends ever since the day your family moved into the house next to his in middle school. You had been inseparable ever since, choosing to go to the same college a few hours from your houses and meeting almost every day since you had joined as freshman. Three years later and nothing had changed, except for how tall Shawn had managed to grow in those years and how the both of you definitely had matured in both personality and appearance since you were in middle school.

“How fortunate for me then,” you laughed, turning your attention back to the abandoned textbook in front of you. 

Shawn’s eyes remained on you, cocking an eyebrow your way, “What, you’re not looking forward to my random visits?” 

“Oh no, I am so looking forward to being woken up in the middle of the night because you can’t sleep.”

“Hey that was only twice!”

“Two times too many if you ask me,” you mumbled under your breath, however the smirk on your face told Shawn that you meant for him to hear it. He simply pulled your chair closer to him and rammed his knuckles into your head until you were laughing and begging him to stop. 

____________________

“You’re coming to the game tonight right?” You had found your way into Shawn’s bed after a full day of classes with your head on his chest, a random hockey game playing on the television across from the two of you. Shawn’s arm provided a comforting warmth as it laid across your stomach, pulling you into him, and each pass of his fingertip onto your skin made you relax further into him. The cuddling wasn’t anything new to the two of you, even the electric feeling you felt from his touch had almost become normal to you. Almost.

“Of course I am. I’ve never missed one, have I?”

“You’re right you haven’t,” he smiled down at you, a stray curl falling in front of his face, “Just wanted to make sure my good luck charm would be there.”

You reached up to brush his hair out of his face, but Shawn quickly grabbed your arm, playfully biting your finger until you pulled away and your wrist was left in his grasp. “I refuse to believe I’m your good luck charm.”

“We’ve been undefeated for three years, hun. You’re my good luck charm.”

“But-”

“Nope, shut it. Don’t want to hear a peep from you.” He pulled you tighter into him before placing a delicate kiss to your hair, “Remind me to give you my jersey for tonight. Want to make sure everyone knows whose good luck charm you are.”

“You’re such a goof.”

____________________

Shawn won. Again. It was no surprise, especially since the team they were up against were no good, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t incredibly proud of him. He absolutely amazed you every time he went out on the ice and you couldn’t help but wait impatiently in the main corridor of the arena. Students rustled around you as you waited though you paid them no mind, simply choosing to admire the banners on the wall instead. The sudden increase in noise caused you to turn your head towards the locker rooms where a certain curly-headed boy was leading a pack of freshly showered athletes. You sprinted past the crowds of people in his direction as Shawn dropped his bag, opting instead to pick you up in his arms as you ran straight into him. You wrapped your legs around him like a koala with your head buried into his neck, breathing in the strong, heady scent of his shampoo. “There’s my good luck charm,” he sighed into your hair and you laughed, only causing a brighter smile to form on his face.

“You were incredible, Shawn. You’re constantly impressing me out there.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, lifting his head to look you in the eyes, “Always means the most coming from my number one fan.”

You flashed him a smile that mirrored his as he slid you down to the floor, making sure that you were always close to him even while others were surrounding him. Your eyes stayed trained on him and the aura that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. They followed the path of his jaw, his neck, to his broad shoulders he always made you massage for him. But before you could finish admiring him, you felt a presence behind you and a slight grasp on your arm. You turned only to be met with a tall figure with beautiful green eyes and dirty blonde hair. He seemed to be about Shawn’s height, maybe an inch shorter, and although his smile wasn’t as bright as Shawn’s was, it still managed to take your breath away for a moment. “Hi, I’m Grant,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand for you to grab, “Are you Shawn’s girlfriend?”

You turned your focus back to Shawn who was currently in the middle of a conversation with a couple fraternity brothers and sorority sisters before coming back to this new mysterious man. “Oh no, we’re not, we’re not dating. We’re just best friends.” Grant seemed to have some distrust in his eyes at your words, his eyebrow lifting up slightly in question. “I’m Y/n by the way.” Grabbing his outstretched hand you let yourself appreciate the polite person in front of you.

“I’m sorry I assumed you’re dating. I’m in the frat with Shawn; we’re not good friends or anything but I’ve seen the two of you around in there.” Suddenly your mind clicked to where you had seen him before off of the rink. Most of the boys on the hockey team all resided in the same fraternity so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you to learn that you had been in the same house as Grant multiple times. “You two are really close, I can’t be the only one that has mistaken the two of you as dating.”

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, sparing a glance back at Shawn, “It happens a lot more than you think. But I promise we’re not. I’m as single as one can be.” Grant’s smile seemed to grow at your words and his shoulders relaxed an inch. 

“Well in that case I actually wanted to ask you…”

“What’s going on over here?” A heavy weight slid across your shoulders, effectively pulling you into a warm body you immediately recognized. You rolled your eyes at the interruption. Perfect timing as always, Shawn. 

“Nothing, just introducing ourselves to one another,” Grant replied, that smile that you were beginning to grow fond of diminishing slightly. 

“Good, was worried that my good luck charm was switching sides.” Shawn sent a pointed look your way with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Good luck charm?”

“Why do you think we haven’t lost a game yet?” Shawn questioned, reaching out to pinch our cheeks, “It’s this little one right here giving me all the luck.” You swatted his hand away bitterly, but his smirk only grew. “Well I’m sure this has been great. Grant, I’ll see you later at the frat and you missy, we have a celebratory dinner to catch.” He maneuvered his way through the people calling his name, bringing you right to his classic jeep.

“You’re horrible you know that right,” you huffed as soon as you got into the seat.

“What ever could you be talking about?” he said innocently.

“If you keep acting like this, I’ll truly never get into a relationship.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Says the one that literally interrupted an entire conversation I had barely even started yet.”

“I was simply worried about you.”

“Mhm, sure.” You stared out the window in protest, not even moving when you felt his hand on your lower thigh.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you liked Grant. I was just looking out for you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I like him, I’ve known him for all of five minutes, but it would be nice to maybe explore some options without my personal bodyguard getting in the way.”

“Once again I’m sorry that I got in the way then. I guess Grant is not the worst guy you could have chosen out of the bunch,” he trailed off as he pulled into the diner parking lot the two of you had been frequenting at after almost every hockey game, “Now let’s put this behind us. I’m really craving some fries and a milkshake.” 

____________________

The brisk wind of the courtyard made you tighten your jacket around yourself in a poor attempt to keep the chills away. A sigh of relief escaped your lips once you rounded the corner of the lecture hall you had previously been in, leading you through a row of buildings that temporarily protected you from the harsh weather of Toronto. You kept your eyes trained in front of you, desperately trying to will your feet to somehow move faster to get you to Shawn’s frat house for your usual post-class wind down.

“Hey Y/n!” You whipped your head around to see the source of your name, but after coming up empty handed in the small crowd of students behind you, you shook your head, convincing yourself you just imagined it as you continued your walk. “Y/n, wait!” Pausing this time, you turned your body around completely only to be met with the sight of Grant maneuvering his way carefully around the other students. Upon seeing you stopped, his face light up and he started to jog his way towards you until he was close enough for you to feel some of his body heat. “Hey.”

“Hey, Grant. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. Sorry to catch you at such a bad time, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you again,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I also didn’t want to wait too long to ask this because I was afraid I’d miss my chance.”

“What’s going on?”

“Are you going to the Winter Ball with anyone?” The Winter Ball was the annual end of the semester party Shawn and Grant’s fraternity held every year that was incredibly exclusive. The only way to get in was if one of the members took you as their date, which meant that almost every girl was dying for someone to ask her. 

At that moment your gaze fell to the beautiful bouquet of red roses that were present in his hands before your eyes lifted to meet his that were so full of hope and nerves. “As of right now I am not. Why do you ask?”

“That’s great! I mean, that’s not great that you’re not going with anyone, but great because I, um, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go with me?” 

You flashed him a bright smile as he handed the bouquet towards you, “I would love to go with you, Grant.”

“Really? That’s, that’s amazing. I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I.” 

He wrapped his arms around you in a quick hug before moving the other way, “I hate to leave right away, I’d love to stay and talk, but I really need to get to class.”

You waved him off, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah of course,” he began walking away until his eyebrows raised and he came back, “Wait, can I actually get your number?” You saved your number into the contacts of his phone and gave him a wave, heading your way back to the line of frat houses you were looking for. The butterflies in your stomach were doing front flips as you tried to will the humongous smile off of your face. A guy just asked you to be his date to the Winter Ball. A really cute, sweet guy just asked you to be his date to the Winter Ball. Never in a million years did you think someone like him would even imagine asking you to be their date yet here you were, the most delightful smelling roses in your hand and a fluttering feeling in your body. You hardly comprehended that you had already stepped foot into the frat house until you were opening the door to Shawn’s room and falling onto his bed next to him with a dopey smile on your face. 

Shawn looked over at you questioningly from his phone, ‘What’s going on with the flowers and the face?”

“Shawn, you won’t believe it!” you practically squealed, turning onto your side, “Grant just asked me to be his date to the Winter Ball!”

“The Winter Ball?”

“Yes! Isn’t that the best thing ever! I’ve never been asked before!”

“What do you mean? You’ve been my date every year.” If you hadn’t been so caught up with the giddiness in your chest you might have been able to notice the fleeting look of sadness in his eyes as he spoke.

“That’s not the same though. I wasn’t really your date, we just went as friends.”

“Yeah, but you were still considered my date.”

“Still, it’s not the same thing.” 

A small moment of silence took over the room before Shawn cleared his throat. “So...you said yes?”

“Of course I said yes, I’d be stupid not to.” 

“Oh.”

You watched as he focused back on his phone, a tiny frown on his face that you could hardly notice, “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing. I’m glad you’re so happy about this.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mendes, what’s wrong?”

“Just wondering what I’m going to do about a date this year.”

“That’s what you’re upset about?” you looked at him incredulously, “Please, you’re one of the most sought after guys in this school. You could go up to any girl on this entire campus and none of them would even hesitate to say yes.”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” you scoffed, “What about Jessica? I’ve seen the two of you talking a lot at post game parties and everything. You two look like you get along.” 

“Yeah, I could always ask her,” he sighed, “But Jessica isn’t going to drag me into my room at four in the morning asking me to sing her a song on the guitar so she can fall asleep.” He sent a teasing smile your way as he referenced your habit of pulling his hand through crowds of people until you got to his room when you felt too tired and wanted to go to sleep.

“I’m sorry, Shawn. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You thought for a moment, “I know! I’ll buy you pizza from your favorite pizza place! You know, the one across from the campus coffee shop where they put extra cheese on top.”

“That’s not my favorite pizza place.”

“But every time we go there you say…”

“I only say that because I know it’s your favorite pizza place.” His gaze fell soft upon you, “Don’t get me wrong it’s not bad, but I don’t have a favorite and I know you’re more likely to go there if I said it’s also my favorite.”

“Oh,” you looked down at your hands, “Well thank you.” Shawn hummed in response, his eyes traveling back to his phone. “You can still come over beforehand to get ready together like we always do.”

He let out a sad chuckle, “Don’t think Grant would much like that, honey.”

“That’s too bad if he doesn’t like it because it’s important to me that we get ready together and you’re the first person to see me all fancied up.” 

Shawn swore he felt his heart stutter in his chest, “If you want me over, I’d be more than happy to get ready with you.”

“Perfect, it’s a date.”

____________________

You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt when you noticed that Shawn had been a little more distant with you in the past week. Your texts sat on delivered for longer, you were no longer going over to his room after every lecture due to him “being busy”, and the nightly FaceTime calls were no longer nightly. You blamed it on hockey practices piling up and finals getting closer but in reality, you knew that wasn’t the case. There was only a week until finals, and therefore the Winter Ball, when you finally ran into Shawn again on your way to a class, very obviously catching him off guard. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been really busy lately,” he told you, but you knew him long enough to tell that the way his eyes wouldn’t maintain contact with you was a telltale sign that there was more to the story.

“Don’t worry about it, just miss you is all. Did you find a date yet for the ball?”

“Oh yeah, I asked Jessica like you told me to.”

“That’s great! Are you doing anything later today?”

“Uh, I don’t know…”

“I’m going dress shopping for the Winter Ball if you want to come with me like you always do.”

“Uh…”

“Come on, Shawn, you’re not going to break tradition are you?” 

He desperately wanted to respond with, “You already broke a tradition by ditching me without warning and going with Grant,” but he bit his tongue. “Sure,” he replied with a heavy heart, “I’d love to help you pick out a dress.”

“Yay! Why don’t we go right after class?”

“Ok, I can pick you up at three?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you later, Mendes!” You left a searing kiss on his cheek before rushing off to class, leaving him staring after you longingly.

____________________

“Any ideas on what you want?” Shawn trailed behind you like a lost puppy as you skimmed your way through the many clothing racks. 

“Not really. Just want something that says ‘Please don’t regret inviting me. I swear I’m a good choice.’”

He couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips, “I don’t think you need a dress for that. You do that by yourself.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile, “Thank you, but I don’t know if everyone feels that way.”

“Well they should,” he mumbled, his fingers mulling over the beautiful items of clothing. A deep maroon, velvet dress caught his eye immediately and he pulled it out, examining it carefully before nodding his head, “Try this one on.”

“Hm,” you turned to look at him as he studied the dress, “Oh, that’s gorgeous. I’ll try it on if you want me to.”

He nodded his head before turning back to the dresses silently, not making any other comments as you looked around. Once you were satisfied with the dresses in your arms, you headed towards the dressing rooms, looking both ways to ensure that no one was around before pulling Shawn into one with you. He turned around as you changed; sure he had seen you in bikinis before and you were both sure that on more than one occasion when you were drunk that you had both changed in front of one another, but he still had enough respect for you to turn around whilst you put the first dress on. 

The first one was a simple black dress with long sleeves that you thought would be nice for the cold climate that came with living in Canada and although it was flattering, it didn’t feel like anything special. You turned to Shawn with a sigh, “What do you think?”

Personally, from the second you told him to turn around, Shawn swore he had seen an angel. The way the dress hugged your curves had him twitching in his pants and he had to swallow thickly in an attempt to control his thoughts. “I, um, I mean you look beautiful. I like it.”

“Really?” you asked, admiring yourself in the mirror, “I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel special to me.”

“Why don’t you just come back to that one then. I think it’s really pretty on you.”

“Yeah, you’re right I’ll just do that.” Four dresses later and you still hadn’t found the dress for you. There was a dark green one that you didn’t feel complimented your skin tone well enough (Shawn begged to differ), a black one with a plunged neckline that went way too far down for your comfort zone (Shawn was glad he didn’t have to protest against that one, he didn’t particularly like the idea of all the drunk, disrespectful boys in the frat seeing that), another black one that went too far down your legs (even though Shawn argued that it would keep your legs warm), and a light blue one that didn’t really fit your feeling of winter (Shawn almost lost his mind when you had bent down in front of him in that one to pick up a loose string that had fallen off of it). 

Finally, you had reached the dress Shawn had picked out for you, just as you were beginning to lose all hope of finding a dress. The moment you slipped it on you knew it felt different than the others: it fit you perfectly with a plunging neckline that showed just enough, the fabric wrapped along the middle to the bottom to accentuate your waist, your curves were shown in a way that it was flattering, but not too overwhelming, and the maroon color complimented your skin beautifully. You couldn't lie, Shawn had somehow managed to find the perfect dress for you. “Ok, you can turn around now.” 

He slowly uncovered his eyes and faced his body towards you, his mouth immediately going dry at the sight of you. The combination of your body in the dress and the gorgeous smile on your face was kryptonite for him and he couldn’t help but wish even harder that he was the one who was lucky enough to be your date for the ball. He motioned you towards him, rubbing his fingers along the fabric of the dress in a way that sent your stomach flipping. “This the one?” he asked, looking up at you with bright doe eyes. You nodded slowly, watching him tug his bottom lip between his teeth. “Grant is very lucky to have you as his date, honey.”

You paused. The thought of Grant taking you to the ball instead of Shawn had completely escaped your mind and in that moment you regretted ever agreeing to changing your date this year. “Yeah, um, right, I hope he likes it.”

“If he has a brain in that head of his then there’s no doubt he’s going to be blown away by you.” He gave a gentle smile your way before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and tapping your hip lightly, “Now go and get changed so we can go cash out.”

You nodded your head as he turned back around, silently smacking yourself in the face for the sudden butterflies that were forming in your stomach. Since when did he have such an effect on you? And why was he doing it so easily?

The moment you got to the cash register, he immediately pushed you out of the way and gave his credit card to the cashier before you could even pull out your wallet. “Shawn, why did you pay for that? I was going to…”

“Calm down, honey,” he laughed at your outburst as he opened the car door for you, “Think of it as an apology gift for me not hanging out with you as much as I usually do this week.”

“But…”

“No buts, it’s already done.” The car engine roared to life and all you could think about while you sat in the passenger seat of his car was how you were going to be wearing a dress that not only did Shawn pick out, but also bought for you while you had to act like you weren’t constantly thinking about him as you stood next to Grant the whole night. Shawn had made sure that you were completely and utterly screwed.

____________________

“Are you almost done?” you heard Shawn’s impatient call from your bedroom. You were living in a larger suite with a bunch of other girls so you were lucky enough to have your own bathroom attached to your room. Shawn had gotten ready in the bathroom before you but you refused to look at him until you were finished as well, not wanting to ruin the surprise. So he sat out there waiting for you while you fixed your hair and makeup relentlessly, watching the time pass by ever so slowly.

“Give me one more second!” you called out to him, adjusting one final strand of hair. You checked your makeup one last time before opening the door, revealing yourself to a Shawn who was sat perched on the end of the bed, phone in hand. 

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, his mouth dropping open ever so slightly, “Damn, you look just perfect.” 

You willed the heat in your cheeks to go away, “Thank you. You don’t look half as bad yourself. Quite dashing if I say so.” It was true, he was wearing a simple black button up with black dress pants that fit to his thighs perfectly as he stood up in front of you. His outfit shouldn’t have looked as attractive to you as it did, maybe it was something about the way he had the top few buttons open to reveal the small amount of chest hair he was currently sporting or the way his hair was styled to perfection with your favorite curl hanging out in front, but your heart couldn’t stop fluttering at the sight of him. And then it dropped the moment you realized that you weren’t the girl that got to walk hand in hand with him that night.

“Before we go I have something for you.” Shawn turned towards his bag where he pulled out one single rose for you, “I know I’m not your date this year, but it felt wrong to break tradition. Besides, needed to make sure a beautiful girl like you got a flower in case Grant dropped the ball.”

You were suddenly extremely aware of how close he was to you, his nose almost touching yours. His eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment, so fast that you couldn’t even tell by the way you were so focused on his breath hitting your lips. “Thank you,” you whispered, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I definitely should have.” His eyes went to your lips once again, this time letting them linger slightly longer so you got the hint. Your hands were trapped holding the rose against his chest as his hands ghosted over your hips, fingertips teasing the fabric of your dress. Shawn tilted his head ever so slowly, nudging your nose with his until your lips parted with a breath.

The sound of your phone ringing broke the two of you apart in a hurry as though you were both afraid of being caught. You scrambled away from him, heading to your dresser to grab a hold of your phone, Grant’s name lighting up the screen making the guilt in your stomach grow. “Hey, Grant, what’s up?”

“Hey are you going to be here soon?” his voice filled your ear.

“Yeah, I’m leaving right now.”

“Perfect, can’t wait to see you.”

“Can’t wait to see you either,” your voice came out soft before you ended the call, bringing your phone down slowly to face Shawn. He had the same conflicted look in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher as he held eye contact with you. 

He let out a deep sigh, picking up his bag that was on the floor, “We should probably go.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, but made no move to head towards the door.

Shawn came over to you, placing his hands in his pockets. “Grant’s waiting for you.” You nodded your head. “Jessica’s waiting for me.” You nodded once again. He let out another sigh, putting a soft hand on your cheek and a kiss to your hair, “We need to go.” You watched as he walked towards the door, looking back at you once he reached the doorway, and you had no choice but to follow suit.

____________________

Oh my god, I almost kissed Shawn. We almost kissed and we would’ve kissed if Grant hadn’t called me. Oh my god Grant. Why didn’t I think of Grant when I was with Shawn? Shawn’s my best friend, I can’t like him like that. Does he like me like that? Can you imagine if he liked me like that? 

“We’re here.” You looked over at Shawn who hadn’t uttered a single word to you the entire way here and was already proceeding to get out of the car without you. The door slammed shut and you winced, not understanding why he was so angry about what happened. Did he really want to kiss you that bad? Your heart couldn’t help but beat faster at the thought of him wanting to kiss you, but you willed it away, instead choosing to clamer out of the car after Shawn and attempt to focus your thoughts on Grant who was without a doubt waiting behind that door for you. 

“Shawn, wait up!” you called out as you ran after him, almost catching up to him as he reached the top of the steps before your heel got caught on the step and sent you tumbling forward. The second a squeal left your lips, Shawn’s arms were already around you, effectively saving you from a face plant on the concrete. You looked at him breathlessly, trying to compose yourself after what felt like a near death experience, “Thank you.”

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes. Even when he was combating his emotions he still cared so deeply about you.

“Yeah I’m fine. I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for you though…”

“Y/n, there you are!” Grant opened the door, with a wide grin on his face, but upon noticing the position you and Shawn were in, his brows furrowed, “Are you two ok?”

“What?” you looked between the two of you, “Oh, we’re perfect. Just took a little tumble up the stairs is all.” Shawn pulled you up with an arm around your waist until you were stable on your feet before immediately retracting as though you were made of fire. 

“Thanks for saving her man,” Grant told him, clapping his shoulder as he snaked an arm around your waist, “Jessica’s been asking about you in there by the way. Told her you’d find her when you got here.”

“Right, thanks.” Shawn awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before excusing himself to push past the two of you into the house.

Grant leaned in closer to you as you both watched Shawn leave, “Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about him,” you reassured him, “Why don’t we get something to drink?”

“Sounds perfect.” Grant took your hand softly into his, leaving a light kiss to your cheek and leading you into the noisy house.

____________________

It had been hours since you arrived at the loud, people filled house. You had barely seen Shawn the whole night; you thought you might have seen him and Jessica making out in a corner at one point, but the multi-color lights in the house didn’t exactly make picking people out of the crowd as easy as it usually was. You had spent the entire night with Grant attached to your hip, whether it was while you were getting a drink, talking to friends, or dancing, he was always right by your side. His hands were currently on your hips, chest pressed to your back and peppering gentle kisses to your exposed neck as you swayed in rhythm to the beat of the song blaring through the speakers. The two of you hadn’t kissed yet, but with the way the drinks were affecting you, you doubt that statement would stay true for long. You were nursing your almost empty drink, the description of the contents long forgotten, all you knew was that your body had a nice tingly sensation running through it and your head was feeling just foggy enough that you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were willing to make some decisions you definitely wouldn’t make sober. Grant pressed a longer kiss to the back of your ear before whispering into it, “Stay here. I’m just going to run to the bathroom.” 

You nodded your head in his direction, taking the time to look around at the people around you. After waiting a few minutes for his return, you became bored and took it upon yourself to get yourself a new drink. You had been here enough that even drunk you knew your way to the kitchen so you easily maneuvered through the clusters of couples until you pushed open one of the entrances to the kitchen. No matter how much you desperately wished you couldn’t recognize the brown haired boy that was in there with you, there was no amount of alcohol that could make you forget his defining features. At the sound of the door closing, his head perked up to look at you and you became painfully aware of how the two of you were the only ones in there as you stared into his honey colored eyes. “Hey,” you breathed out, stepping closer until you were practically shoulder to shoulder with him. 

“Hey,” he bumped your shoulder with his, “Long time no see.”

The loopy smile he gave you told you that he was also feeling the alcohol, but probably only as much as you; the man knew how to hold his drinks. “Whatcha doing in here?”

“Told Jessica I’d get the both of us something more to drink,” he motioned to the two cups in front of him, “What about you? Where’s Grant?”

“Bathroom,” you replied, leaning back onto the counter, “I got bored waiting for him out there.” 

You lifted up Shawn’s hand that was resting next to you and began tracing the pattern on his fingertips. “What are you doing, love?” he laughed, the pet name slipping out as they usually did when he had some alcohol in his system.

“Playing with your hand.” You locked hands with him while he moved in front of you to make it all the more easier for you to continue your task. His large body trapped you against the counter, but you hardly noticed until his breath fanning over your face tore your attention away from his hand. “You’re very handsome you know,” you smiled, releasing his hand to run your finger over the light scar on his face, “So pretty.”

He let out a breathy laugh as he moved his now free hand to the counter to fully lock you in between his body, “That’s funny coming from someone who looks like those goddesses we used to learn about in school.”

“I don’t look like a goddess…” your voice trailed off, too occupied with outlining the features of his face.

“Yeah you do. Look like the prettiest one...what was her name again?” He smirked down at you, knowing Greek mythology used to be one of your favorite topics in school.

“Aphrodite?”

“Mhm, that’s the one. Swear you’re a real life Aphrodite.” He moved in closer to you, brown eyes boring into you and forcing your gaze back into them. He heard your breath catch in your throat as his nose touched yours, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing...you’re just close is all.”

“I am close,” he whispered, biting his lip when he felt the hand you had on his jaw move to his neck. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do if I kiss you right now?”

Your wide eyes batted up at him innocently from where he was towering over you, your heart absolutely racing, “I’d kiss you back.” 

And with that his lips connected to yours feverishly, his body pressing to yours harder. His lips were soft and you could taste the alcohol from whatever drink he had been sipping on before that made him intoxicating. He licked tentatively over your bottom lip, practically groaning into your mouth when you immediately opened up for him. You tasted so sweet to him, so sweet that he swore he could easily become addicted to your taste. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a soft moan from you that made his grip on the counter tighten and his hips push against yours harder. You could feel a bulge pressing against your lower stomach and you couldn’t help letting out another moan that Shawn eagerly swallowed into a kiss. Pulling him closer to you by his hair, he took that as a sign to thread his right hand through the base of your hair, the other hand reaching down to harshly pull your leg around his hip. Your hips bucked against his as his tongue fought yours for dominance that you easily gave him. 

Just as his hand was about to run up your thigh, the door to the kitchen burst open and Shawn swiftly moved completely away from you and back in front of the drinks he had originally come in for. You almost whined at the sudden lack of content, but the look of shock on the stranger’s face shut you up. It only took one look at your wide eyes and swollen lips and the sudden wrinkles in Shawn’s shirt for them to hastily exit the room with an apology spilling from their lips. 

The second they were gone you made your way back to Shawn, who was breathing heavily as he stared at the counter. You placed your hand on his chin, bringing his face back to you. Using your thumb to swipe at a rogue smudge of lipstick that had transferred onto him, you looked at him carefully, swallowing thickly when he placed a gentle kiss to the pad of your finger. You looked him in the eyes for the first time since your heated moment and while you could only see what you believed to be lust in his eyes, he saw yours change from lust to fear and to what finally made his heart drop: regret. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, successfully dodging Shawn’s attempt to grab your arm.

“Y/n wait!”

“I’m sorry, Shawn.”

“Please!” was the last thing you heard before you shut the door to the kitchen and rushed through the crowd of people. Your breathing was becoming erratic the deeper into your thoughts you got until you felt you were on the verge of a panic attack with no one to save you.

“There you are,” Grant sighed relieved, causing you to jump when his hand wrapped around your arm, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” 

“Sorry, I was bumped around in the crowd and got lost trying to find you again,” you lied, trying to avoid his eyes.

“That’s alright, I’m just glad you’re here,” he smiled at you, his brows furrowing while his hand came up to your lips, “Hold on your lipstick is a little smudged.”

Your eyes grew ten times wider, “Um, I think I must have just messed it up while I was drinking or something.”

“Ok, do you want to go dance again?”

“Yeah, uh, that sounds great…” your eyes met a frantic Shawn’s as he searched for you in the crowd, “You know what, I actually think I’m going to go home.”

“What?” Grant asked, confused as he followed you through the people.

“I just don’t feel good all of a sudden, it has nothing to do with you I swear. You’re amazing, I just need to go.” 

“Stay here overnight, don’t go home.”

“Grant, I don’t feel well.”

“I know, I don’t want that. I mean you’re gorgeous and everything, but if you’re not feeling well then obviously not. It’s just, I’m not in the right mindset to drive, it’s frigid out there, and a drunk girl all alone in an uber sounds like a horrible idea. So why don’t you just stay? I’ll sleep on the floor so you can sleep in my bed.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please, I just want you to be safe.” 

Your eyes lingered over to wear Shawn was still watching you, this time with Jessica in front of him, obviously trying to get his attention onto her. “You know what...sure. I’ll stay.”

A bright smile formed on Grant’s face, “Perfect, let’s get you all settled then.” He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs toward his room, Shawn’s eyes following you with a heavy heart.

____________________

The next morning you bumped into Shawn in the hallway as you were exiting Grant’s room wearing his clothes he had let you borrow to sleep in for the night. Neither of you said a word as you silently made your way past him and down the stairs towards Grant’s car while Grant came strolling out of his room with his classic smile on his face, having no clue how heart broken Shawn felt when he gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

____________________

It had been a week since you last spoke to Shawn. Not a single message or interaction between the two of you. You didn’t know what you would say if you even had approached him, but you hadn’t gotten the chance to find out. Having to pack up your dorm for the semester gave you an excuse for not talking and a way to busy yourself to get your mind off of him. But no matter what you did Shawn Mendes was still hanging in the back of your mind, taunting you with replays of different moments with him over and over again. You were lucky that this time you hadn’t been planning on driving back home with him so you didn’t have to face him on the hours long drive back, though you knew that didn’t mean you wouldn’t be seeing him at some point upon your arrival. All these thoughts were swimming through your head as you pulled into your parent’s driveway, immediately being met with a swarm of greetings from your family. You seemed to have arrived before Shawn, which you felt incredibly fortunate for as you were ushered into the house. 

You didn’t see Shawn the whole first week you were there either, no matter how much your heart ached for him. You found yourself more often than not wondering what he was doing just next door and if he was thinking about you too or if you had already become something unattainable and therefore not worth his time. Even though you knew he wasn’t that type of person, the little devil on your shoulder kept telling you that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

Christmas Eve you were tucked into your bed, soft breaths coming from your mouth. The snow was coming down in light, fluffy flakes, just enough that it was the pretty white Christmas you always loved without the terrible snow storm you couldn’t stand. The first knock on your window sounded like the wind, but the second one was unmistakable, abruptly pulling you from your sleep and to the window. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw Shawn’s face staring back at you and you hurried to open your window for him. “Thank god,” he chuckled, “It’s freezing out there.” Shawn had been climbing up the side of your house to reach your room since you were young, so it truly should have been no surprise to you that he was scaling it in the snow.

“What do you want, Shawn?” you sighed, already making your way back into bed as he followed you, “It’s two in the morning.”

“That it is,” he agreed, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you turned to face him, eyes only opening slightly in your sleepy haze.

He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face, “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this.”

You shrugged his hand away, “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” he whispered with his hand still lingering on your face, “My little Aphrodite.”

Your eyes shot wide open, your senses suddenly wide awake, “What’d you just call me?”

“My little Aphrodite.”

You sat up next to him. “Ok, Shawn, what do you want? Why did you come here in the middle of the night on Christmas nonetheless?”

“Can’t I just say hello to my best friend?”

“You haven’t said hello to your best friend in two weeks so that’s not a good excuse.”

“Don’t say that like you haven’t been avoiding me either,” he chuckled darkly.

“I couldn’t face you, Shawn!” you choked out, eyes beginning to well up with tears as you scooted away from him, “I couldn’t, not after....not after that night.”

There was a heavy silence for a moment before Shawn spoke harshly, “Why’d you hook up with Grant that night?”

“What?”

“Why’d you hook up with Grant?”

“I didn’t hook up with Grant,” you spat out, “Why would you even think that?”

“You really expect me to believe that after I saw you not only go upstairs with him, but also leave his room the next morning wearing his clothes!”

“I do expect you to believe it because nothing happened! I wanted to leave after what happened because I didn’t want to be in the same room as you anymore and he offered me a place to stay since it was cold and I was drunk. Nothing. Happened.”

“You didn’t want to be in the same room as me? Wow.” He shook his head, leaning back against your headboard on the other side of the bed, “One second I have your leg around me, moaning in my mouth, and the next you’re leaving me without an explanation and now you’re going to tell me you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me?!”

“You don’t understand…”

“What don’t I understand?!”

“I couldn’t be in the same room with you after I realized something…”

“What did you realize, huh? What was so groundbreaking that you couldn’t even stand to see me?”

“That I was freaking in love with you!” Your mouth hung open. You had mulled over the thought of loving Shawn in the weeks you were apart, but you dismissed it every time, not believing you could have allowed yourself to fall in love with your best friend. Shawn stared at you with bated breath, his silence slowly killing you from the inside. 

Just as you were about to hide under your blanket in embarrassment, you felt something warm covering your mouth and a hand in your hair, his lips moving softly on yours. You sighed into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him eagerly to let him push you back onto your bed. He hovered on top of you, holding you close to him as he kissed you with every ounce of passion inside of him, stealing your breath away completely. His kisses were gentle, but still heavy with emotion. He parted from you to let you both catch your breaths, placing light kisses to your cheeks. “I am so in love with you, Y/n. You have no idea.” 

He left one last searing kiss on your lips before pulling away and leaning off the bed to retrieve a small wrapped box. “I got you something for Christmas.” 

You gingerly took the small box in your hand, carefully pulling off the paper to reveal a small black box. You looked up at him with curious eyes, but he only nodded his head for you to continue, placing a gentle hand on your thigh. Opening the box, a beautiful silver dove charm was revealed to you on a necklace, the light of your room catching off of it making it shine. “Shawn…” you breathed out, “it’s gorgeous.”

“It’s a dove. You know, the symbol of Aphrodite,” he smiled at you nervously, “Do you like it?”

“Of course, I love it. Put it on for me?”

Shawn pulled your back into his chest and brushed your hair out of the way to place the delicate necklace around you. Once the necklace was clasped, he left the softest of kisses to your shoulder. “There you go. Perfect for my little Aphrodite.”

[imaginesbymk]

“My Girl Who’s Not Really My Girl, But Is My Girl Anyway.”

The Pacific One Shot

Summary: Snafu opens up to the guys and tells them about you, how you two are hook up buddies, and he ended up falling in love with you before enlisting in the war. After he returns home, you two make it official.

Pairing: Merriell “Snafu” Shelton x Fem!Reader

Non Requested

Tags: swearing, ethnic slurs, smoking, my shitty attempt at writing implied smut (not too detailed), mentions of war violence

Word Count: 1,753

Author’s Note: snafuuuuu!! i don’t write smut as its stated in my rules, but i thought i’d give this one a try lmfao and verdict: i’m not continuing on doing so because to me writing smut doesn’t suit me. likes/reblogs/feedback needed & appreciated <333

THE boys ganged up on Peck - but for a good reason. Peck was a man who mesmerizingly gazes at a photo of a chorus girl he met and fell in love with while his wife waits for him to come home every day, and is also the man who had gotten their mortar rounds with his own ripped poncho, resulting in getting a fellow marine killed after running to retrieve new ones.

Snafu was the first one to call him out for it. When it came to mentioning girls and whether or not each of them had one, Snafu was definitely going to be next to at least mention a name, or coat himself with a comment, and so he did.

“I don’t care what you think!” Peck exclaimed, annoyed by everyone, especially Snafu. “It’s not like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“Oh?” Snafu said, grinning. “I got a girl waitin’ for me to come home back in Louisiana.”

“Really?” Eugene raised his brow, showing a hint of curiosity that his friend never opened up about it until now. “You’ve never mentioned her before.”

He shrugged. “Nah. Well, she’s my girl who’s not really my girl, but is my girl anyway,” Snafu paid no mind to the twisted confused looks on everyone’s faces, he just continued lighting his cigarette with his filthy hands completely worn from the battle.

“What does that even mean? Is she your girl or not?” Jay D’Leau asked.

“We just fuck around, but we’re not together,” Snafu spoke with the cigarette lit in his mouth.

“Not surprised,” Leyden says. 

“Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means it’s not like you could hold down a girl for more than a week,” Peck says.

“You don’t got a say in shit, Peck. You carry a photograph of a Chorus broad while your wife dreads the day you die in the hands of a fuckin’ Jap,” he snaps. “I’m the luckiest son’a’bitch there ever was.”

“What’s her name?” Hamm asks.

THE tiny storage closet could fit up to only two people at a time, one if they were to bend over to get a hold of supplies from the shelves and bottom drawers. In that particular night was that storage closet used as a place of privacy for the extroverted Snafu, named Merriell back in Louisiana, and his girl who’s not really his girl, but is his girl anyway: you. Y/n.

People would have definitely heard you, whether they were walking past or were simply far away inside any seminar. The door to the closet was literally being pounded on by your back hitting against it with such force, after all. As for Merriell, he couldn’t give two shits. He’d let all of Louisiana hear you to let them know you belonged to him at that moment.

“You’re way too good at that,” you caught your breath moments after, straightening your dress despite its now developed wrinkles. Your hair was no longer neat and styled, but you did your best to fix it without a mirror.

“You’re experienced and lustful when you know what you’re doing,” he said so confidently. 

“So when are you leaving?”

“Next week. Time flies when you’re having fun,” Merriell put his shirt on, exposing a bit of his chest from the buttons down, and realized you weren’t paying attention to his answer. “Ya hair’s fine, girl.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t wanna walk out there and catch people staring at me, wondering what the hell happened to mess up my hair.”

“Oh they’ll definitely know what happened,” Merriell smirks. “They’re gonna know you walked inside a closet and got drilled by Snafu Shelton until the cows came home.”

You chuckled. “Snafu? Are you sure you want people to go along with that nickname?”

He grins. “As long as I go along with it first.” He tightened his belt, shuffling a bit around the enclosed space of the storage closet.

You ran your hands down his chest. “I’ll write to you.”

Snafu chuckles. “Don’t get serious on me now. I’ll be fine. And don’t write to me,” he then went ahead to button his shirt.

You frown. “Why?”

“It’s a waste of paper.”

“Don’t you wanna keep in touch? Or don’t tell me, you’re planning your proposal to some girl up north?”

“No girl. But there’s nothing we have for each other but a good fuck, that’s all.” And he opens the door, letting you walk out first. He followed you behind, wishing he could hold your hand. 

OK. Perhaps that was a lie. He saw you more than a good fuck. He saw something in you that gave him a bigger motivation to make it to the end of the war, to do his part and come back home. He was gonna miss catching a whiff of your strong perfume that would make him cough and crinkle his nose from his sinuses deteriorating. He was gonna miss how your hair was in his hand as he played with it while cuddling at a movie theatre. 

He was gonna miss you.

NIGHT fell when Snafu hopped off the train. Louisiana was still the way it was when he had left it. The same old calls from food stands, chatter from one group to another. It was nothing new, but it was home. 

He stopped to take a moment first. He didn’t want to wake up Eugene, who had been fast asleep in his seat. Knowing he had something to say before bidding a farewell to his friend, he bit his tongue and kept walking towards the exit.

Snafu, of course, didn’t expect to have anyone wait for him at the station. No family, no friends, no girl. So... what now? He thought. Just find yourself an old man as your chauffeur home, grab a beer and a bowl of peanuts.

“Damn, you look like a lost puppy, Snafu.” Snafu froze in his tracks. He shifted his weight from his duffel bag slung over his shoulder to turn himself around, to find you standing out from the walking crowd. 

A sight for sore eyes.

“Shit, you’re here. As loyal as they come!” A smirk appeared on his face due to the surprise unexpected surprise, even referring to him as “Snafu”.

“You really think I wouldn’t be here waiting for your ugly ass to come home?” you teased. 

“That’s four years of waiting,” Snafu points out. “Maybe five. Shit, you are loyal as they come.” You smile, your eyes twinkling like Christmas was happening way too early near the end of August.

“I have my parents’ car. They told me to bring it back by nine o’clock. I just want them to give me a later curfew, y’know? At least now that you’re home, I have a better reason to borrow it more often.”

“Well all I wanna do is pop a cold one once I stretch my fucking legs. I felt sick from the train ride home.”

“Motion sickness? It’s just one way.”

“A mixture of smoke and onions stunk up the whole boxcar.”

You made a face at that comment, and walked Snafu to your car. He stayed in the passenger seat even though you had pulled up to the house and shut off the engine. You both sat in silence for a moment. 

“Should I even ask how service was?”

Snafu answered your question by changing the subject. “I really missed you, y/n.”

Cocking a brow, you gave him a look. “You insisted for us to not write to each other.”

“I missed you, whether we wrote to each other or not.” Snafu looks ahead of the night through the opened car window. “It was hell out there. I felt like all of Louisiana could hear it. But I knew I would come home to see that pretty lil’ ass of yours again.”

You chuckle. “Snafu-”

“Merriell.”

You frown. “I thought that’s your name now.”

“It is... but when you call me by my Christian name, you chase the loud noises away.” It didn’t matter if that was a metaphor or if he was starting to hear things that could cause a trigger in his senses.

Either way, you just had to ask, “Merriell, is everything right?”

Snafu- Merriell- looked at you. “Yeah. I mean, I think so. Y/n, I think I’m in love with you. Is that all right?”

“Anything that’s been goin’ on between us is just fine, Merriell Shelton.”

“I’ve been in love with you ever since we started foolin’ around. I didn’t think much of it. I always thought a new broad would occupy my thoughts a week after, but each week passes and all I did was look forward to seeing you and you only.” 

Sighing, you take his hand that was rested on his leg. Merriell came to realization that this was the first time you two ever held hands without it leading to sex right after. Physical intimacy, indeed. “Merriell, I had a feeling our hookups would turn out into something more.”

“Really?” he asks.

“We were there for each other no matter what. It’s like I found my ride or die - y’know before you rode out of America for the war trying not to die.”

Merriell stroked your hand with his thumb, his eyes locked onto yours. “You were always my girl. Someone special.”

“I wasn’t really your girl to begin with,” you laughed. “But I also wasn’t anyone else’s, either.” Merriell leaned in, kissing you deeply. None of you pulled away until you had to catch a breath. “We waited a long time to do this again.”

Merriell leaned in again, closer this time that he could go on top of you. He whispered against your lips. “And thank Jesus H. I’m back.”

You both kissed for a couple of minutes. It stopped abruptly when you remembered where you two were at the moment. “Shit, sorry. My dad could have opened the blinds. You should come inside for dinner. My mother would be thrilled to see you in a uniform.”

“Shit, I’m already meeting your folks?” he curls his lips to a nervous grin. “I know damn well ya Dad’s gonna stare me down across the dinner table.”

“As long as you don’t tell him that I call you daddy, too, then you’ll be fine.” You earned a laugh from Merriell Shelton, and you two got out of your car and both walked up to the front steps, holding your boyfriend’s hand.

THE END

[marauders70s]

a collection of dumb hp-p&r text memes

dumbledore, gesturing: could a depressed person make this???

mcgonagall: your hand is literally rotting off

---

harry: sometimes I feel like arguing with you is like arguing with the sun.

hermione: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT I AM SUPER CHILL ALL THE TIME.

---

pansy: you look awful

draco: what up bitch i just ran a 5k

pansy: really?

draco: no i threw up blood in the shower

pansy: that fight with potter really got ya down huh

---

harry: hey ron are you okay

ron, wearing the locket, staring straight ahead at a tree: yeah i'm fine it's just that life is pointless and nothing matters and I'm always tired.

harry: hermione it's your turn

---

sirius, at any minor convenience: everything hurts and i'm dying

---

goyle: I once knew a guy for seven years and never learned his name. best friend i ever had. we still never talk sometimes, because he's dead.

---

oliver: sometimes you gotta do a little work so you can ball a lot.

mcgonagall: that is incorrect

---

james, during house arrest: If I keep my body moving, and my mind occupied at all times, I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair.

lily, from the couch: oops

---

snape, at a christmas dinner: I can still smell her hair at night

dumbledore, pouring a generous amount of mulled wine: Put some alcohol in your mouth to block the words from coming out.

---

ron: hermione, i'm not using your color coded talking planner

hermione: we need to get good grades on our OWLs!

ron: there's nothing that could motivate me to use it

hermione: well, there's nothing we can't do if we work work hard, never sleep, and shirk from all other responsibilities in our lives.

---

harry: Professor, I wanna go home early. Ooh, hold on actually, hang on. Yeah, no, I wanna quit and never come here again.

---

ron: i'm going to tell you all my secrets

hermione: you don't have to do that

ron: I once forgot to brush my teeth for five weeks

ron: I didn't actually break charlie's wand all the way I just hid it and forgot where

ron: I don't know who scrimgeour is and at this point I'm too afraid to ask.

ron: when they have 2 sickles a scoop on salamander eyes i'm not sure where the rest of the salamander goes

ron: when i was a baby fred turned my teddy into a spider and i got so scared my mum took me to a mindhealer and they wrote a textbook about me

ron: i once threw a garden gnome so hard that it hit my sister in the face and began attacking her

hermione, looking up from her book: what did ginny do?

ron: she bit it and it ran off.

hermione: classic

---

severus: no matter what i do nothing bad can happen to me. i'm like a white wizengamot official who pretended they were mind-controlled after the fall of the dark lord

lucius: I resent that

---

sirius: thank merlin my great uncle alphard just died so I am fluuuuusheeeeeed with galleeeeooonsss

remus: I'm going to regret this flatshare

---

seamus: i passed up a gay halloween party to see this troll. Do you know how much fun gay Halloween parties are? Last year I saw three Peverell Brothers make out with three Viktor Krums. It was amazing.

---

luna: We need to remember what's important in life. Friends, unpredictable creatures, and school. Or unpredictable creatures, friends, school. It doesn't matter. But school is third.

---

tom riddle: I totally hear you, but I also don't like what you're saying. So if you say no, I will release a giant snake in the bathroom

---

luna: would you like some -

hermione: no! I am going to run for minister of magic someday, so no, thank you. I mean, not that I haven't - I ate a brownie once at quidditch cup party. It was intense. It was kind of indescribable, actually. I felt like I was floating. Turns out there wasn't any potions in the brownie, it was just an insanely good brownie.

---

sirius: do i look like the kind of person who drinks water

---

neville: flying is the worst. I know it keeps you healthy, but merlin, at what cost?

ron: okay, you don't have to join the pick up game -

neville: no no i want to be included. i'll come

---

james: What I hear when I’m being yelled at is people caring really loudly at me.

sirius: that's not right

---

mcgongall: I think you’ve got several options. They’re all terrible…but you have them.

peter: this career counseling session is getting a bit intense

---

neville: how are you handling the...breakup...

ginny: I’m gonna buy some sweat pants and a Gilderoy Lockhart novel. Might as well lean into it.

---

dumbledore, in the staff room, extremely intoxicated: Who hasn’t had gay thoughts?

---

james: Goodbye, Lily Evans, my head girl partner. Hello, Lily Potter, my fallopian princess.

lily: i should have never married you. or at least made you wear a condom

james: what's a-

---

sprout: I’m a simple lesbian. I like pretty, dark-haired women, and man-killing plants.

---

sirius: A couple more rules: if you ever read a sad book, you have to wear mascara so we can see whether or not you’ve been crying. There’s no noise allowed on Mondays. And no magic after breakfast.

peter: er i'm sorry this was the dorm assigned to me...

---

remus: Hogwarts Library is headed by the most diabolical, ruthless bureaucrat I’ve ever seen. She's like a death eater but instead of avada kedavra and crucio she uses shame and shhhing.

james: she wouldn't let him into the restricted section without a note

remus, choking back tears: I AM A PREFECT

---

pansy: I have never flown the high road. But I tell other people to ‘cause then there’s more room for me on the low road.

---

hermione: If I had a stripper’s name, it would be Equality. for house elves and all beings.

ron: if i had a stripper's name it would be sugar striped candy pole for my -

harry: hermione, DON'T -

---

sir cadogen: You know, in the 1880’s, there were a few years that were pretty rough and tumble here at Hogwarts. This depicts kind of a famous fight between Morpheus Rane, a prefect in Slytherin house, and Wilhemena Batlock, a Hufflepuff seventh year. The original title of this painting was ‘A Lively Fisting.’ But y’know, they had to change it for…obvious reasons.

---

bellatrix, in the afterlife: i regret nothing. the end.

---

harry: I don’t want to be overdramatic, but today felt like a hundred years in hell and the absolute worst day of my life.

tofty: I'm sorry but you WILL have to repeat your history of magic OWL

---

james: Lucky for me, I’ve processed all my feelings. And I’ve gone through the five stages of grief - Denial, anger, picking on Peter, cat adoption, reckless dueling, cat returning to the adoption place, reading all Martin Miggs books in the series (what i was picking on peter for actually), and not giving a flying fuck.

remus: you can't say fuck

james: oh great i'm going to have to start the process all over again.

remus: peter, you'd better run

---

dudley: I’m allergic to magic candy. Every time I eat more than 80 sweeties I barf.

fred: how about...81

---

sirius: I’ll have a glass of your most expensive red wine mixed with a glass of your cheapest white wine served in a dog bowl. Silly straws all around, please.

remus: this is why we can't date in public

---

neville: I’m gonna get drunk and then I’m gonna order a three course meal where each course is made of dessert.

---

arthur: I promised myself I was not going to cry tonight, and I’ve already broken that promise five times. But I will not break it a sixth.

bill: dad maybe you shouldn't give a toast while fleur's family is still here

---

gilderoy: I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know I’m doing it really, really well.

---

pansy: Use him. Abuse him. Lose him. That’s the Parkinson motto.

draco: I thought the Parkinson motto is don't look at me you whore.

pansy: the motto is really more like a chapter book.

---

harry: You’re ridiculous and pureblood rights is nothing.

voldemort: wow

---

tonks: I would like a glass of red wine and I’ll take the cheapest one you have because I can’t tell the difference.

sirius: cheers i'll drink to that

remus: put. the bowl. down.

---

eh, and just one for the road: “I wonder who else was born in Eagleton. Voldemort, probably.” – Leslie Knope

[dancethroughthethunder]

The Best Kind of Eternity

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k (I cannot shut up ever about anything)

Prompt: I’ll take whatever you give me

Summary:  You’ve had a terrible week so your best friends, Peter, Ned and MJ, have planned a night of yummy comfort food, face masks, and cheap wine to unwind. You’re hopelessly in love with your best friend, and unbeknownst to you, he feels the exact same way. Ned, and MJ are having fun watching the sweet disaster that is you and your Peterman. After a few glasses of wine and a long week, you’re ready to admit it. Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, and college!au all in one.

Author’s Note: It’s here!! My first fic in literally years and my first fic on this account! This is a college!au and everyone in this fic is of legal drinking age. There is mention of alcohol and feeling tipsy but nobody is explicitly drunk. I’m just really soft okay, please love my soft Peter.

Y/N = your name, Y/N/N = your nickname and Y/F/S = your favorite show

It had been a long week. No, scratch that, it had been the longest week that any human being in all of history had ever been subjected to. It was one of those weeks where you had every big test and assignment at once, where everything you did at your internship was wrong, where the food in the dining hall made you sick, and where you were both home sick and also so glad you were far from home as your loving mother nagged you about how much sleep you were (not) getting and the amount of vegetables your diet was likely missing.  

Needless to say, you were beyond ready for a relaxing weekend. All week you managed to keep yourself going by remembering that once Friday afternoon rolled around, life would get so much easier. You had a surprisingly free weekend for once, and an easy week coming up and you were ready for the much needed sleep, and time with your friends that your weekend would bring. You just needed to get through the awful eternity that was this week.

Sometime between the 5th and 20th stressed out text from you at work earlier in the week, your best friends decided that what you needed was a night to relax. Even when the four of you were just hanging out, you were usually the one to make the final decisions about where to hang, what to eat, and what to do, but not this time. With MJ bringing the wine, Ned bringing the snacks and Peter bringing your favorite stressed out comfort food for dinner, your friends were ready to listen to you complain just one last time about your boss, your professors, and the idiot in your one class you’d dubbed “Loud Dumb Boy” and then ply you with drinks, face masks, and yummy food. 

You’d never been more grateful for your friends than you were Friday morning when you received a text in your group message (named, to MJ’s chagrin (“What it’s just so lame”, she groaned when you’d suggested it), the Core Four): 

MJ: Alright Y/N/N, we’re having a junk food & wine night tonight. What: the greatest night of your life. When: 7, so you have time to take a nap after class. Where: Your room, Who: You, Me, and the Idiot Twins. Why: Because people suck and you deserve it. 

Ned: How: don’t worry Y/N/N! We’ve got all of the planning covered

MJ: I’m getting the wine, and the boys are getting the food. All you need to do is be in your room, awake and wearing pants at 7 

MJ: Or not wearing pants

MJ: it’s a free country 

MJ: somewhat

Peter: I can’t wait!!!

You let out a cross between a moan and a sigh at the thought of having a fun relaxing night that you didn’t even need to plan. And MJ made sure that you’d have time for a quick nap beforehand? Honestly, how do people make it through college without friends like these three? 

Checking to make sure that you weren’t missing anything up on the board, you pulled your phone back out to type your reply

You: Sounds heavenly.

You: Also, MJ if you want to see my ass all you have to do is ask (wink wink)

MJ: Y/N, did you really just say wink instead of using the emoji

Ned: I think it’s funny

MJ: Stop encouraging her 

You: At least Ned loves me 

MJ: since you can’t see me I just want you to know I’m flipping you off 

You: Fair enough 

Thankfully, not only did texting your friends help pass the time but your professor was feeling generous and let you out a few minutes early. Just one more test to go and you’d be back in your dorm ready for a nap. 

Five hours later and you had successfully taken your exam (thus concluding the week from hell), gone back to your dorm to clean up a little bit, taken care of a few emails, called home to talk to family and finally snuggled into your bed for your much needed and deserved nap. You rolled around in your bed wondering whether it was worth it to shut your eyes for the few extra minutes until your alarm went off, signaling you to get out of bed, put on pants and get ready for your friends to come over. The second your head hit your pillow again, you figured that if you didn’t get out of bed now, you’d still be there when MJ undoubtedly showed up earlier than she had said. 

You jumped down from your bed, and began digging through your drawers to find your comfiest pair of leggings (listen, you’re a firm believer that naps are meant to be a no pants zone- and really, who could judge you for that) and to grab your deodorant to freshen up before your friends get there. As soon as your shirt is back on, there’s a knock on your door accompanied by what you’re pretty sure is the sound of MJ attempting to get your attention and make sure you’re awake.

You cross the room to open the door and find that your assumption was correct; MJ stands there balancing a heavy bag that you’re pretty sure is full of wine in one hand, phone in the other ready to call you if you were still sleeping.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting forever” 

“You knocked like ten seconds ago, Michelle” You rolled your eyes, you loved your best friend but sometimes she could be impatient in a way that just really made you want to scream.

“Ten seconds, forever, who’s to say the difference. After all, time is a-”

“Construct” You finished for her.

“Exactly, you get it” MJ smiled as she bumped you with her hip.

Given that you didn’t have a roommate and had a double room to yourself, your room was the designated hangout spot. Without needing to say anything, MJ went ahead to put the wine in your fridge and started to make herself at home.

 “Y/N, I say this with all of the love in my heart…. Have you looked in a mirror since you woke up?” To her credit, MJ was managing not to burst out laughing as you took a few horrified steps over to your mirror. 

Uh oh, you had fallen asleep with your hair down and now looked like a cross between the Heat Miser and someone from Who-ville and somehow you thought your Christmas-inspired gremlinry was not the look you wanted to be sporting when Pete- uh your friends, yeah all of your friends, were over...

“Shit, MJ, the boys will be here in any second and I look like a gremlin” You ran back over to your dresser to grab some dry shampoo, a spray bottle of water, and a brush to try and contain the mess that was your hair.

 “Ah yes, because Ned cares so much about the state of your hair. Oh, what was that? It’s not Ned you’re worried about? Could it be an arachnid adjacent friend of ours?”

Without even turning around to look at her, you raised one hand to (lovingly) flip off your best friend. In any other friendship, you assumed it would be weird to be in love with your one best friend who had previously dated your other best friend, but MJ had declared an exception in girl code for you. It was no secret that MJ and Peter dated in high school, it was also no secret that it just didn’t work. There were no hard feelings, no big revelations, no massive fights or betrayals of trust, they just worked better as friends than they did as partners. You respected them both for making that decision before it got to a point where it might have been hostile, and while you knew there were no residual feelings you couldn’t help but be a little jealous of MJ sometime. You knew there was a reason it didn’t work out but at least she had the chance to try. Either way, you were pretty sure that there would be no chance for you if you looked like this when Peter knocked on your door. 

“You’re infuriating sometimes, I hope you know that” You finished your sentence with a groan as MJ smirked, reminding you that she definitely knew that.

“Get over here and I’ll braid your hair” MJ got onto one of your desk chairs and patted the spot between her legs, indicating that she wanted you to give her the hairbrush, sit down and let her work her magic since she knew you couldn’t put your hair in a good braid if your life depended on it.

Right as MJ tamed the wildest part of your hair, there was a knock at the door, without either of you getting up, both you and MJ yelled out that it was unlocked and in walked the other half of the Core Four.

“Hey, Y/N!” Ned smiled as he came into the room carrying a bag full of snacks, both sweet and savory that definitely had far more food than you could have ever eaten. (“What, I wanted her to have all of her favorite options” Ned would say later when MJ and Peter teased him about buying the entire store).

“Honey, we’re hoooome” Peter Parker, your best friend and quite possibly the love of your young life, was right behind Ned, winking and carrying boxes of what you hoped were pizza and garlic knots.

“Took you two long enough, I want food.” You jumped up from your spot on the floor to grab plates and napkins so you could start eating.

“She’s cranky but she’s got the right idea.” MJ laughed.

“Hey, I’m not cranky, I'm hungry.” You tried to whine and pout at MJ but couldn’t hold it through your laughter.

A little while later you had all eaten as much pizza and garlic knots as you possibly could and had drunk a couple glasses of wine each already. It was time for part two of the night to commence: face mask time. You walked over to your dresser where you kept your various skin care products to grab a few of the face masks you and MJ had bought last time you went to Target.

“Hey, Pete? Which do you want?” You held up the various face masks in question, to show him his options.

“I’ll take whatever you give me”. You were glad that you were already flushed from the couple of drinks because otherwise there would have been a tell tale blush in your cheeks that would have given you away.

Cmon Y/N get it together, he’s just talking about face masks. It was just one innocent sentence. You’d said far heavier and romantically laced things to him before, but for some reason as soon as he said this, your heart started hammering so loudly in your chest you were sure your neighbors would think there was construction happening nearby. Was it a sign of trust? Did he just not care that much about the variety of face masks you were offering? Or was it something more? Did he really mean whatever? Of course not, you’re reading into it. It had to be the alcohol kicking in, you couldn’t possibly be that head over heels and flustered. Right? Right.

“Y/N/N? You good over there?” You blinked and realized you had completely zoned out staring at Peter, while still awkwardly holding all of the face masks in your hands. Cool, way to be subtle Y/N.

“Wha? Oh! OH! Ha sorry, I must have completely zoned out there.” Must have completely zoned out there?! Could you have picked a lamer thing to say? At least come up with a good excuse next time, damn.

“Oh Y/N, can I have that one?” Ned excitedly popped his head into your line of vision to ask about the lavender de-stress face mask that you know he says makes him feel like the “king of treat yo self”. What you would do without Ned and his perfectly timed distractions, you never wanted to know.

“Oh yes, of course. As if I’d give you anything else”. You winked at Ned, and without missing a beat he brought a hand to his chest and pretended to swoon. 

“I’ll take that one thank you very much.” As MJ grabbed one of the face masks remaining in your hands, you made a decision for Peter and tossed one to him, keeping one for yourself as you went to find a headband to keep those annoying baby hairs out of your way when you had the mask on.

“Hey, Y/N/N?” You turned around to see Peter looking at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes on the planet.

“....yes P?”

“So you know how sometimes I miss spots with face masks?”

“Yes…”

“And you know how you’re so good at them”

“Who the hell isn’t good at face masks, you just smear stuff on your face it doesn’t take a degree to figure out” MJ snarkily whispered to Ned who was unsuccessfully biting back a laugh.

“I mean in the sense that I know how to put them on my face and avoid my eyebrows and everything, sure I’m a regular aficionado. Why what’s up?”

Peter looked at you hopefully, looked at the face mask you had just tossed him, and then right back at you. A big grin broke out on his face as he held it right back out to you

“Are you asking me to put your face mask on you?”

“Yes please you’re just so good at it and it always gets stuck to me and you always do it anyways and pleeeease” Once again Peter was giving you the eyes that you and MJ had dubbed the “Spidey Pout” with you both joking that it’s the best weapon against bad guys he could ever have.

Okay, so this one was on you. The first time you ever did face masks with the guys, Ned wasn’t too sure how he felt about the texture so you offered to help him put it on, and then helped Peter as well. Ever since, Peter has always made a point to have you help him put on his face mask. (Neither of you will ever admit it, but you both know he knows how to do it and avoid his eyebrows but you both relish in the pure affection and domesticity that comes with putting a face mask on someone else. Who knew smearing gooey mud on someone’s face was a whole love language in and of itself).

“Okay, fine, come here Parker.” You grabbed an extra hair tie and handed it to Peter who excitedly pulled back as much hair as he could into the tiniest, cutest, ponytail ever. You looked over at Ned, who was putting on his own face mask and smiled when you saw that he too had a tiny little ponytail to keep his hair out of the way.

You gestured for Peter to sit in front of you in your other desk chair as you sat at your desk and started opening the mask to put on him. You’d given Peter a peel-off mask, which you knew he liked because he didn’t have to go wash it off making it easier and because of the satisfying feeling that came with peeling it off. When it comes to putting a face mask on someone else, you relish in having an excuse to be so close and to have physical contact, after all you’re incredibly physically affectionate. When it’s Peter, it’s even better. He sometimes closes his eyes, giving you a chance to just admire him. You can watch the stress melt away as you gently spread the mask over his face, and you get to take in the beauty that is Peter Parker. When he doesn’t close his eyes, he just watches you. It should probably make you nervous, feeling watched so closely and so intensely but there’s something loving in his eyes that makes you feel seen. Sometimes you take your eyes off whatever part of his face you’re putting the mask on and the two of you just hold eye contact- not long, just a few seconds, but given all of the feelings you’re both holding back, it feels like an eternity. It’s the good kind of eternity, it’s falling asleep in the shade at the beach listening to the water and losing track of time; it’s rocking a baby to sleep in a dark room knowing that nothing else matters; it’s falling in love in a second and knowing that even if you don’t say it, somehow it’ll be okay. After all, despite the awkward moments and the way that you’re sure it’s unrequited, it’s been an absolute pleasure to fall in love with Peter Parker. 

You move your chair in between Peter’s legs so you have better access to his face, and try not to think about the way that MJ and Ned are undoubtedly making faces to each other about all of this. You misjudge the angle of your chair, just a bit as you go to sit, undoubtedly caused by the moscato coursing through you and you don’t even have time to catch yourself because someone’s already done it for you. You look down to see one of Peter’s hands on your hip, the hip hanging off the chair and, not for the first time in your life, you’re thankful for his spidey-reflexes.

“Woah there, you okay?” You sit into your seat as you nod in response to Peter and you try not to focus too much on how the hand that was on your hip as casually migrated to your thigh. You couldn’t know it but right now Peter is silently thanking whatever in the universe (your wine) that made you slip for giving him an excuse to touch you. It’s not sexual, he just likes physical affection as much as you do and he finds it’s even better when it’s you. Ned once told him that his love language is probably touch. Peter disagrees, he thinks his love language is whatever you’re doing. It’s like that tik tok trend with the sound of the Penguins from Madagascar or whatever that movie is, where in order to translate one penguin motions and only one other penguin understands it to translate. His love is already there, but no matter what it is he wants or thinks, you seem to be the only one who can translate and bring it to life. For example, he never knew how easy it is to memorize someone’s laugh. It helps that yours is just so you. He swears he could pick you out of a crowd, blindfolded, just by your laugh. But, you have no way of knowing any of this as your heart skips a beat when he absentmindedly rubs his thumb on your thigh.

You lean forward, and start to apply the mask to Peter’s face, giggling when he shudders at the initial coldness. Today is a closed eye day, it seems, and you don’t mind because you think that with his hand on your thigh still, you might not be able to handle intense eye contact without imploding.

“Y/N can I use a washcloth?” Ned’s face mask has already been on, and dried by the time you remember that there are in fact, two other people in your room.

“Yeah of course, dude.” You turn your head to indicate where you keep them, but see MJ already grabbing one for herself and tossing one to Ned.

“You know for someone worried about privacy and surveillance, you’re incredibly comfortable going through my things.” You flash MJ a smirk over your shoulder before going back to Peter’s face mask.

“Alright love, you’re done.” You stand up to go clean the residual mask goo off your hands as Peter stands up to check out your work in your mirror.

“Thanks, dear.” You feel a swell of pride every time Peter uses some pet name for you. You’re the type of person that calls everyone some kind of nickname or pet name, and throughout your friendship Peter has started to do it more and more but only ever with you. Well, maybe sarcastically with Ned too.

A little while later and you’ve finished with face masks, vented one last time about your week and have been playing some drinking games when Ned lets out a massive yawn.

“Ah I’m sorry guys, I’m just so tired all of a sudden.” Ned smiles sheepishly and glances toward your clock.

“Look at the time, wow. Thank you for coming over and helping me to unwind. It was a hell of a week and this was exactly what I needed. I know it’s late, you guys can totally stay for a bit or head out and go to sleep, promise I won’t be offended if you want to leave.” You smile sweetly at Ned, knowing that since you had such a bad week, his instinct is to stay until you kick him out, but also knowing that he’s so tired and you do honestly feel so much better.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna head out then. Do you wanna grab breakfast together tomorrow?”

“Make it closer to brunch, we all know I’m sleeping in.” You laugh as Ned stands up to leave. 

“Alright, I think I’m peacing out as well. Things to do, people to see.” MJ gets up and starts to follow Ned to the door.

“MJ, you know we see past your whole ‘cooler than you mystery girl’ thing, we’ve been friends for years.” Peter rolls his eyes, laughing. 

“Yeah but where’s the fun in that. You staying or coming with, Parker?” 

“I’m gonna stay for a bit, I think Y/N and I are going to watch an episode of Y/F/S” 

“Okay, good night!” 

“Night losers.” MJ and Ned walk out of your room, letting the door shut naturally behind them. 

“Okay, if you pour us another glass of wine and get the lights, I’ll queue up the show.” You pass Peter your wine glass and grab your laptop and a blanket, and sit back down on the pillows you put on the floor.

“M’lady.” Peter tips an imaginary fedora as he hands you both glasses, so he can sit down and get comfortable without worrying about spilling his wine. 

Peter settles in next to you and takes his wine while you start the show. After a few minutes, you start slowly leaning until your head finds Peter’s shoulder. He laughs, knowing how extra cuddly you get while drinking and is surprised it took you this long. He hears you mutter something that sounds like the word comfy, and is genuinely surprised when you pick up his arm and toss it over your shoulder. While it’s nothing new for the two of you to sit together normally, and cuddle after a long day or when drinking, this is definitely something new. Not that he’s complaining. 

Peter smiles down at you as he shifts a little in his seat, hand on your upper arm as he adjusts the arm behind you. Whether it’s the alcohol, his little comment from earlier, or the way things felt different when you put on his face mask, you aren’t sure what’s propelling you to be more forward than usual. Maybe you’re just sick of pretending you wouldn’t be his in a second, and the other things are just contributing to lessening your fears of rejection. 

You look up at Peter, and let out a soft “hi”.

“Hey there, you comfy?” You nod, suddenly unsure of how to communicate your feelings without sounding like an idiot, while simultaneously feeling incredibly warm, inside and out. Luckily for you, Peter decides for once in his life to pick up on someone’s signals and decides he’s going to go for it. 

“I, uh, meant it earlier, ya know?” 

You raise an eyebrow, confused, as you sit up straight so his arm is still around you (his hand is still tracing absentminded circles but it’s fallen to your waist now) but you’re able to see him better.

“When.. when I said I’ll take whatever you give me. I meant it. I’ll take it. Happily.”

There’s a moment, a brief moment, where you’re scared. You’re scared that somehow despite what he’s saying, this is all one big misunderstanding or that you’re reading too much into it. But, the moment passes and you look into your best friend’s eyes and see love and a distinct lack of judgment and you realize that there’s no way you’re not thinking the same thing. 

“Yeah? What if it’s my love, that I want to give.” You almost feel silly jumping right to the L word, but you’ve known for a while now that you love him, you capital L Love Peter Parker and suddenly you find yourself wondering how you’ve never brought yourself to tell him before. 

Peter smiles at you, and your dorky awkward best friend finds himself at a loss for words. You’re here, and you love him and he doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s never heard anything better. So, he just smiles and nods and hopes that you can see it in his eyes, that you can see everything he’s thinking but can’t say. He wishes he knew how to tell you it all. He wants to say “I love you, you’re my best girl, my favorite person. I love the way you put your hair up when you’re thinking. I love the way you always listen when someone is talking, and make sure that nobody has to trail off because nobody in a group. I love the way you sing in the car and hum when you’re cleaning and in a good mood. I want to hear your sleepy content sighs when you put your head on my shoulder after a couple of drinks for the rest of my life. Name it and I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

But, he doesn’t know how to say any of that. So instead he says “Are you offering it?”

“I don’t think I have to offer it, P, you already have it. It’s yours if you want it. I just.. Just need to hear you say it.” 

Peter sees you’re getting shy and knows he has to reassure you, he knows how important it is to you that he says it outright.

“I love you. I want it, I want you. Let me love you right. Please, Y/N/N, let me do this. You’re my best friend, be my girlfriend?” 

Peter starts to lean into you and you nod, giving him your silent consent not only to the kiss but to everything: his love, his time, giving it a go. 

It was the week from hell, but right now you’re sitting here kissing your best friend- your boyfriend, and he knows you love him and he loves you too. And as you kiss him, with his hands lightly on your waist (he needs to feel you, to know you’re real, to put as much love into your body as he can) and with yours cupping his face, you think that if you got to do this forever, it would really be the absolute best kind of eternity.

[brasskier]

Chapter 3 of my modern AU holiday fic series is up, and this one is the much-anticipated Jewish!Ciri chapter.

Hanukkah 2018, or The One Where Jaskier Conquers Judaism (A Year in Review):  When Jaskier discovers Ciri's birth mother is Jewish, he's determined to help her keep in touch with her heritage. He tries - and oftentimes fails - throughout the year to provide her this connection. Maybe he'll finally get it right for Hanukkah.

Find it on my ao3, or keep reading below the cut:

It all began with an offhand comment from Geralt not long before the new year. It was burger night, one of the few nights Geralt was actually around to cook. Most evenings Yennefer prepared dinner, or else they were left with one of the handful of dishes Jaskier could reliably not burn. And when he called into the living room for everyone's cheese preference - cheddar for Jaskier, pepper jack for Yen - Ciri had asked for a slice of American on hers. And Geralt had huffed a laugh, bemusedly muttered,

"That's not kosher." And for whatever reason, the statement attracted Jaskier like a moth to light. Before Geralt knew what was happening he'd flitted into the kitchen, pressed his elbows on the island counter and leaned forward.

"What's not kosher?" It sounded like an innocent enough question, but the shit-eating smirk on Jaskier's face said otherwise.

"Cheeseburgers," Geralt shrugged, returning his attention to the stove. Jaskier raised an eyebrow, dropped his chin into his hands. "Her mother was Jewish. Clearly not that Jewish, though." 

"Huh." And that was the end of the conversation, except the wheels were already spinning in Jaskier's head. He knew very little about Judaism, but he did know it was matrilineal, making Ciri, by birth, a Jew. And, just like that, Jaskier had found his new year's resolution. 

Jaskier was by no means a religious man. He loved his Hallmark holiday Christmas, but that was about the extent of it. He was certainly not a Jew. But how hard could it be, he figured. If he found a way to celebrate Christmas and Easter without really knowing what he was doing, he could surely find a way to give Ciri a slice of her heritage. 

Shabbat seemed like a reasonable place to start. Light some candles on Friday night, take a much-needed break from tech, have some challah. Except, Jaskier was no ordinary parent; he was going to go above and beyond for his lion cub and bake his own challah. 

This was mistake number one. 

The challah caught fire in the oven. He only had a split second to react before that godforsaken fire alarm went blaring, sending Yennefer trudging down the stairs to inspect the situation. Thank god Ciri's school let out later than the high school. He yanked the charred bread from the oven, sustaining a neat little burn on the inside of his wrist that he'd have to find an excuse to explain away later. 

"I'm going to try again," he declared, more to himself than anyone else, his wrist held under the running faucet. Yennefer shook her head, busying herself rummaging through their first-aid kit. 

"You're no cook, Jask." She turned the faucet, dabbed carefully at his arm with a paper towel. "Just go to the store and buy one. Ciri won't know the difference." His face fell, and he rubbed at his jaw with his free hand.

"But I will." She spread a glop of antibiotic ointment over the wound, trying her best not to scratch him with vampire-red nails. 

"You better not burn the house down," was all she had left to add, smoothing the band-aid over his skin.

The second challah (mistake number two), thankfully, did not catch fire. It did, however, refuse to rise, remaining a goopy mess in the bottom of the pan. Yennefer shuffled back through the kitchen again, presumably just to tease him further. A quick glance at the clock informed him he had just enough time for a third try before Ciri came careening in from the bus. Yennefer not-so-subtly recommended he go to the store yet again.

The third challah (mistake number three) did not catch fire. It didn't refuse to rise, either. Instead, it simply exploded, sending half-baked shards of bread splattering all over the interior of their oven. Geralt was going to kill him. Hell, he still didn't have a challah to show for his labors, and Ciri was going to kill him. With a beleaguered sigh, he shuffled on his coat, yanked his keys from their hook in the foyer, and called up to Yennefer that he was running to the store. 

After nearly wrecking his car in a race against the school bus and almost cracking his head open on the counter in a dash to make it to the kitchen, Jaskier finally had a beautiful, golden-brown challah waiting on the table. Well, actually, two challahs. He wasn't sure if he should get the regular one or the kind with raisins and, not wanting to mess up any more than he already had, he bought both just to be safe. 

He wasn't sure the hug Ciri flung herself into when she caught sight of the rolls waiting for her was well-deserved, but he found his voice wavering with the threat of tears anyway as he stumbled through the blessings over the candles. On the bright side, Kiddush was a fantastic excuse for a glass of wine. With a joyful b'tayavon, they tore into the challah. Yen was right; Ciri didn't know the difference.

Purim was early in 2018, on the first of March. This was, admittedly, something he knew very little about. But he did know that there were services for Purim, so he perused Google until he found a nearby synagogue that welcomed non-members. Perhaps it would've been better advised to reach out ahead of time, but Jaskier was never really one to plan in advance. 

This was mistake number four. 

He dug out one of the suits he reserved for parent-teacher conferences, enlisted Yennefer's help in wrestling Ciri into a sparkly yellow dress with more ties and zippers than Jaskier knew what to do with (mistake number five), and loaded her into the car before heading off. The first thing he noticed upon crossing the threshold was the costumes. A Batman sprinted past him, followed by an Optimus Prime, while a Princess Anna shouted after them. He glanced from the costumed children, down to his dolled up lion cub, and then back up. Fuck. A sympathetic father wriggled away from his wife and approached him, sticking out a hand for Jaskier to shake.

"You're new, aren't you?" He asked, and Jaskier nodded slowly.

"She, uh… her mom's Jewish," he muttered, tilting his head towards Ciri. She beamed up at the man.

"Papa is learning how to be Jewish for me because Momma celebrates Diwali and Daddy doesn't like holidays," she declared, and Jaskier tightened his grip on her hand. He was humiliated enough as it was; the last thing he needed was to explain his unusual family arrangement to a total stranger. The man quirked an eyebrow at her before returning his attention to Jaskier.

"She's a charmer, isn't she?" He laughed before gesturing towards a redheaded little girl around Ciri's age in a Wonder Woman costume. "That's my little girl, Eliana." Jaskier breathed a sigh of relief.

"This is Ciri." She waved up at them with her free hand. "And I'm Jaskier." 

"David." Jaskier shook his hand again, not really certain whether he'd already done so. "Well, I think it's awfully sweet that you're trying to learn for her. But for future reference, the kids usually wear costumes." Jaskier wanted to ask whether that applied strictly to Purim or services in general, but didn't care to embarrass himself further.

The service itself was not terribly long, which was a blessing, because it was entirely in Hebrew. Ciri, for what it's worth, seemed more entertained than him, enraptured by the opportunity to make as much noise as possible at the antagonist, Haman's, name. On the bright side, they got plenty of hamantaschen afterwards, and Jaskier was very grateful that he hadn't had the thought to try to bake them on his own.

Jaskier didn't know much about Jewish holidays, but he did know that Passover was pretty important, and that it was his opportunity to really test his mettle. It was perfect; he loved to entertain, and what was a Seder but one big dinner party. Valdo Marx, his distressingly put-together PTA arch-nemesis/band director of his biggest rival high school, had extended him an invitation to his massive yearly Seder, because "it's tradition to invite literally anyone ." Jaskier refused. 

This was mistake number six. 

The occasion started to unravel when he found out his parents couldn't make it, but he pressed on anyway (mistake number seven). He decided to cook for the occasion (mistakes number eight through twelve), but the matzo balls came out soggy and underdone, he cut himself slicing apples for charoset, the brisket ended up overcooked and rubbery, his potato kugel was a bland, tasteless mess, and he even managed to mess up hard-boiled eggs. No matter, he could surely just go to the store. But then Yennefer texted that she'd gotten caught up in City Hall and wouldn't make it back in time, and Geralt had work that night, and two did not a Seder make.

Jaskier tucked his tail between his legs and texted Valdo to belatedly take up his invitation. Along the way he ran in for a bottle of Manischewitz (mistake number thirteen). At least he'd checked the internet to make sure Ciri didn't need to be in costume for this holiday. Valdo leered at the bottle of wine he shoved into his hands as he shuffled through the door with Ciri in tow. Go figure, on the table sat an array of much more expensive (and tasty) wines. 

When it came time to recite the Ma Nishtana , Valdo scanned the room before his gaze settled on Jaskier and Ciri tucked away in the corner.

"Cirilla," he asked, "how old are you?" 

"Seven!" She provided eagerly, and Jaskier decided he needed to have a conversation with her when they got home about how it's sometimes okay to lie, actually. 

"That makes you the youngest child," Valdo continued. "Go for it." Ciri, very clearly, wasn't all too sure what exactly she was supposed to be going for, and Jaskier's heart sank. "The four questions?" Valdo elaborated, as if that would be of any help. At her continued and increasingly distressed silence, Valdo set his sights on Jaskier. "Tell me you didn't forget to teach her the four questions." (Mistake number fourteen.) Jaskier shrunk back in his seat, guilt drawn across his face. He leaned to the side and whispered into Ciri's ear.

"I'll do it with you, okay?" She rubbed at the tears forming in her eyes with a small fist.

"You're not a kid," she argued back.

"Your Dad begs to differ," he laughed, tracing the transliterated text with his finger. "Come on. Let's do it together." She nodded meekly, and let her voice fall under his as they stiltedly recited the four questions.

Valdo was onto him and his abject failure as a parent, and if he hadn't been already, Jaskier was sure of it when Valdo interrupted himself just towards the end of the Seder and gestured to him.

"My dearest Jaskier here is an esteemed colleague of mine." His words dripped with sarcasm, and Jaskier felt very small. "A fellow music educator." He raised his glass as if making a toast. "Jaskier, why don't you treat us to that impeccable voice of yours and lead us in Dayenu?" He tried to escape, he really did.

"My concentration was in trombone, you know. Not choir, like our marvelous host." Oh, but Valdo insists he has a beautiful voice (which he does , thank you very much.) "I haven't gotten to warm up." No matter, Valdo assures him. Take your time. "I think I might be coming down with something." Well then he should be in bed, shouldn't he, the poor dear, Valdo interjects. Finally, Valdo's uncanny ability to shoot down every last excuse outpaces his capacity to wrack his brain for them. Thank god for the musical notation printed with both Hebrew and transliteration, and thank god for years of sight-reading practice. He hobbles his way through it, and Ciri buries her head in his side. 

The Seder is not a total bust. For one, if someone had told Jaskier a minimum of four glasses of wine were in order, he would've converted a long time ago. Second, Valdo is actually a good cook ( damn him ), and his matzo balls are round and fluffy. Third, Ciri found the afikomen and all of Jaskier's transgressions were swiftly forgotten. She was asleep in her car seat before he'd even pulled out of Valdo's driveway. He decides to write the evening off as a wash and vows to do better next year.

Rosh Hashanah is the next holiday to roll around that he thinks is significant enough to bother with. And it's simple enough, right? Some challah, apples and honey, a few blessings? He can surely do that. Hell, how could he mess it up? 

He entirely writes off the prospect of baking his own challah and picks up one of those beautiful, braided loaves the day before. Unfortunately, no one at the kosher bakery thought to warn him that Rosh Hashanah challah should be round, so he has to run back to the store and get another one the next morning (mistake number fifteen). 

He cuts himself slicing the apples. Again. (Mistake number sixteen.) Perhaps, Geralt warns him, his knife privileges should be revoked. Except, this time, the cut won't stop bleeding. Spending Rosh Hashanah in the ER with Yennefer mercilessly teasing him the whole way through had not been part of his plans. Six stitches later, Yen swings by the grocery store and picks up a pack of pre-sliced apples on their way home while Jaskier slips in and out of sleep in the passenger's seat, and prays Geralt hasn't put Ciri to bed yet.

Ciri is wide awake when he sheepishly steps through the front door, curled up with Geralt on the couch and already in her pajamas. He leans over the two, plants a kiss on each of their foreheads. 

"Sorry, princess," he muttered, slumping onto the couch next to her. She smiled, wriggled free from Geralt's arm and pressed against his chest. "So much for Rosh Hashanah."

"It's okay." She tugged at his hand. "Can I see it?" She asked, gesturing towards the bulky bandage wrapped around his left hand. He held it out for her to inspect while Geralt reminded her to be gentle. "Did it hurt?" He couldn't help but laugh.

"It did. Which is why we don't let you use the big knife." And why Jaskier also probably shouldn't be allowed to use it either. 

"Who said Rosh Hashanah had to be cancelled?" Yennefer emerged from the kitchen with a plate full of sliced apples, round challah, and honey, shifting onto the couch next to Geralt. Ciri leapt up, elbowing both Geralt and Jaskier in the process, and devoured the plate eagerly. Maybe it wasn't entirely a bust, after all. Just no more apple slicing moving forward.

Yom Kippur is a big deal. Like, a really big deal, and very serious. Jaskier knows it's not exactly the holiday Ciri is looking forward to, but he has to prove he's serious. It's very important. So, he decides they're going to services.

This was mistake number seventeen.

Step one is waking up at the crack of dawn, dragging himself out of bed, and making an entire pot of coffee before he remembers he's supposed to be fasting (mistake number eighteen) and can't actually drink it. Step two requires digging the suit up again and stopping Yen on her way out the door so she can fix his tie. Step three is to rouse Ciri, singlehandedly deal with the inevitable meltdown that accompanies waking an eight-year-old early on a day off from school (mistake number nineteen), and enviously watch her devour breakfast before the inevitable battle of getting her into a dress. 

The service is long . It is boring. It is entirely in Hebrew. And it is certainly not designed with hyperactive elementary schoolers (or their starving, restless parents) in mind. After the third time he thinks it's finally ending, only for the Rabbi to launch back into prayer again, Ciri starts to get especially antsy.

"I need to use the potty," she tells him urgently in that whisper-shout that is a trademark of youth. Fine, he can handle that. He shimmies her through rows of enraptured attendees, waits like a sentinel outside the door to the women's room, and then tiptoes back in. 

"Papa, I'm hungry." Not exactly something to announce to a room full of people who can't eat, but so be it. Another hushed escape, a quick munch on the Goldfish he'd been smart enough to pack, and then their cautious reentry. 

"Papa, I'm bored." There's not exactly much he can do about that, so he shuffled his phone out of his pocket as discretely as possible, makes absolutely certain the volume is off, and passes it off to her. Unfortunately, this is only a temporary solution, and she's squirming in her seat before long. "Papaaa, I'm reeeally bored." 

"Just a little longer, lion cub," he assures her. He should've fled while he still had the chance to do so with dignity and grace, but he's sure it must nearly be done, and they can brave it out (mistake number twenty). This is, apparently, the very worst decision he could make. It is not, in fact, nearly done.

"Papaaa!" She's getting increasingly louder, wriggling around with increasing intensity. That heart-melting, will-bending pout of hers is drawn on her lips. This is decidedly not good. "I wanna go home!" That one was loud enough to turn a few heads, which means it's definitely time to go.

"Okay, okay," he attempts to placate her, "we're going now." But it's too late. The tears are coming. 

"Now!" That one's nearly enough to grind the whole service to a halt. He does the only thing he can think to do: tuck her under his arm, scurry through the aisle, and run. 

He feels dizzy and especially winded by the time they reach the car, and he's not exactly sure why. All he knows is that Ciri needs to please stop crying for a moment so he can catch his breath. It must be a Yom Kippur miracle (do those exist?) when she relents, jerking a hand free and placing it against his cheek.

"Are you okay?" Her voice is so tiny he nearly doesn't hear it.

"I'm fine, kiddo, just gimme a sec." He leans heavily back against the car, Ciri still clung around his chest. The dizziness passes just as quickly as it came on, and he hurries home eagerly, relieved when Ciri dozes in the back seat. 

They cozy up on the couch while Geralt mows the lawn outside, and spend the rest of their day off watching a movie - Ciri's choice, which is Moana, no surprise. He's sick to death of the movie but he sings along with every last song anyway. Damn that Lin-Manuel Miranda can write a catchy tune. 

Jaskier has all but forgotten about the earlier dizzy spell when the front door clicks open and a very sweaty Geralt parades inside, Yennefer, fresh home from work, on his heel. Which is why he really doesn't understand what's happening when he rises to greet them and the whole room tilts with him. He wavers, eyes squeezed shut and hand pressed against his face in a desperate attempt to will his head to stop spinning. It's no use, and before he can even go to sit back down he's careening forwards. 

His eyes fluttered open to a sharp prick on his hand, a high-pitched beep, and a total stranger hovering over him. He startled, fighting to prop himself up in a sitting position, but a firm hand he recognized could only be Geralt's forced him back to the ground. 

"The fuck's going on?" He managed to ask, and his own voice sounded oddly far away. He scanned the room for clues as to what could possibly be happening and settled on Yennefer's face just as she shot him a glare that he knew translated to watch your language. 

"You passed out, Jask." Geralt, somewhere overhead and out of view. "Hit your head good on the coffee table." Well, that would explain the pounding headache.

"And he is…?" He gestured vaguely at the stranger only visible in his peripheral.

"An EMT, sir," the man supplied, shifting back into view and shining a flashlight in his eyes. 

"Ah." He blinked reflexively, wincing at the fingers that firmly held his eye open. "You didn't have to call an ambulance, you know." 

"I didn't." Of course Geralt didn't, the man would probably gladly perform an appendectomy in the back of the bar at which he worked. It had to be Yennefer.

"Wasn't me." He considered for a moment if she could read his mind or if he was accidentally saying everything aloud before shakily remembering that he had a betrayingly expressive face. Well, if it wasn't Geralt, and it wasn't Yennefer…

"They taught us at school to call 911 if there's ever an emergency," Ciri casually explained. He couldn't help but smile. His little lion cub looking out for him, it made him feel warm.

"Alright," the paramedic commandeered his attention, helping shift him upright and propping him against the couch. "You're not diabetic, correct?" He nodded, which was a mistake, because silver stars erupted in his vision. "Your blood pressure is a little on the low side and you're pretty hypoglycemic. When did you last eat?" Oh, yeah. Fuck .

"Last night? It's Yom Kippur, I'm fasting…" He felt thoroughly, indescribably humiliated. He tries to be a good dad/surrogate Jew, and this is what he gets. As they say, no good deed goes unpunished.

"Happy new year," the EMT offered earnestly. A bottle was pressed into his hand, and he shakily raised it to his lips and drank without even questioning it. Whatever it was, it was incredibly sweet. "Some fast-acting carbs and a good meal should sort that out, but I'd still recommend you go in, just to rule out a concussion." He sipped some more on the mystery beverage and was fully prepared to politely decline when he felt small arms wrap around his shoulder.

"Fine." The second Jewish holiday in a row spent in the ER, just what he wanted . He was going to start racking up frequent flier miles if he kept it up. And all three of them accompanied him, evidence enough that he'd clearly rattled them. At least the doctor was sympathetic, suggesting he eat a bigger meal later at night next year. (Which was giving Jaskier a lot of credit, assuming there would be a next time.) He typed out sub plans on his phone while he waited for the discharge paperwork, knowing full well he wasn't making it to work the next morning. On the bright side, he didn't have a concussion after all.

Hanukkah was his chance to finally get it right. It was Jewish Christmas, right? And he'd always been pretty good at Christmas, so surely he'd nail this one. He dug around a few shops until he found a menorah he was fond of - cast in gold and decorated with music notes and a big treble clef - and proudly set it on the kitchen counter. He even bothered to watch a few YouTube videos of the blessings over the candles, so he'd nail the melody. Finally, he had to buy gifts. Eight of them. For three people. So, twenty-four gifts. He perused the dollar store, the budget section at Target, and every clearance section he came upon until he'd collected every last gift. Even wrapped them in paper adorned with little menorahs and dreidels.

The first night finally rolled along, and he could hardly contain himself. Ciri, too, was bursting with excitement; apparently Hanukkah was the one holiday her mother ever really bothered to celebrate with her. He wedged the first candle in place, carefully lit the shamash candle, and managed to return it to its spot without burning the house down. He led them in the two blessings without so much as a crack in his voice - plus shehecheyanu, which was reserved for the first night only (if reformjudaism.org was to be trusted, which he was sure it was) - and breathed a sigh of relief when even Geralt knew better than to blow out the candles. 

Gift-giving was always one of his favorite aspects of Christmas, so watching his family tear into his tiny presents and enjoying a warm embrace from each was easily his favorite part of the evening. They played a rousing few rounds of dreidel, in which Ciri inevitably won every last piece of gelt. The latkes he'd picked up at the kosher market were delicious, and this time it didn't even take Yennefer to convince him not to try cooking them from scratch. The final piece of the puzzle was the box of jelly donuts he'd hidden away from Geralt all day. 

And yet. Something was wrong, he felt like something had to be missing. It made him uneasy. So he finally did what he probably should've done to begin with; he reached out to a Rabbi.

"Are you looking to convert?" He was not prepared for the first question from the Rabbi - an older fellow named Levi with a gentle smile and kind eyes. 

"I don't think so. I'm not really sure what I'm looking for. Just to give my daughter a connection to her heritage, I guess." He'd been caught up in the personal mission of it all, but that was truly all that mattered. "We've always kind of been the spiritual-not-religious type, Christmas-Easter only. I was hoping there was something like that in Judaism, but there's so much history. It's hard to keep track." Levi nodded sympathetically.

"Judaism is beautiful because we are more than a religion - we are a people." He smiled fondly. "If you ask me, I don't think there's a wrong way to be a Jew."

"Then how do I know I'm doing enough?" That's all he really ever wanted, was to be enough. For Ciri, for Geralt and Yennefer, for his parents, for his students. "Which holidays do I celebrate? Is it okay if I can't bake my own challah? Do I really need to drag her to Yom Kippur services? Should she be Bat Mitzvah'd?"

"You ask a lot of questions, young man," he chuckled,  and Jaskier felt his cheeks flush. "Is she happy?" 

"Yes." That was at least an easy question to answer. Every step of the way, as overwhelmed and harried as he was, she was always a constant source of joy (or, at least, most of the time).

"Then there's your answer." There's his answer. Ciri is happy, and that's all that matters. Hanukkah 2018, it seems, was a success.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Fallen

*Loki x reader*

Chapter: 1/?

Words: 3k

Imagine: You go on a more or less involuntary roadtrip with Loki after he finds you lost in Grand Canyon. With the Avengers AND the police chasing you, you are forced to trust each other in ways neither of you could've imagined.

Genre: little angsty, but lots of fluff 💗

Two days ago, Steve Rogers had decided that every member of the silly little team he called Avengers was in need of a serious break and distraction from the daily life of a superhero, as he obviously deemed himself one. Loki had rolled his eyes at him, thinking that no one would actually take the idea seriously. The soldier always had the most mundane ideas, and thus in Loki's opinion also the most boring ones. 

But unfortunately for the god, Tony, Thor and Natasha had been rather fond of the idea and since no one wanted to leave Loki alone at their headquarters, they made him come along on a roadtrip through the national parks. 

First, Loki had simply ignored their attempts to convince him to come along, but as Thor had threatened to have Loki sent off to a high security prison during the other's absence he finally agreed to come along. At least he could wander off to his own liking during the trip, as long as he kept coming back when the time had come. 

They left very early in the morning. Every member of the team who desired to tag along was kindly invited by Tony to let him take care of everything and just enjoy the trip. They flew from New York to Las Vegas with one of the private jets, and continued from there on.

So when Loki was sitting in one of the luxurious cars Tony had rented for them, he dared to protest for the first time since the threat his brother had spoken the night before.

"This is ridiculous." He stated quietly. "Going places takes ages when you drive this slowly."

"Oh, it speaks!" Steve mocked the god, his eyes fixed on the road and Tony's car going before them. For the time being, they had agreed to convoy-drive to their first hotel. Tony and his family were in the car ahead, followed by Steve, Thor, Loki and Bucky in the second vehicle. The rest had also brought their families and were each driving in their own car behind them. Another stupid idea the soldier has had… small cars so that everyone could discover the nature 'at their own pace'. Loki snorted. 

"Maybe you would like to drive then?" Thor groaned. "Since you keep complaining about Steve's driving…" 

"We're not letting him drive!" Bucky quickly interjected, earning a mean side glance from Loki.

"It's not him I'm complaining about, it's the car! These things are slower than walking for all I know!" He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked out of the window.

"Maybe you'd like to walk then?" Steve asked in a manner that clearly suggested that he wouldn't be having this conversation for much longer.

"I would very much appreciate that, actually!" Loki snorted.

"Stop it. Loki you're staying with us even if you hate it. This will be fun! We can enjoy this trip like every other family." Thor's reflection in the mirror smiled at Loki, who just rolled his eyes and remained quiet for the rest of the drive. This would be one hell of a trip, rather literally. Loki dreaded the sun and the heat… going to Grand Canyon National Park, to him, felt like his own personal hell. Only yet did he not know that right there, he would meet a fallen angel. 

You were sitting on the end of a cliff one late afternoon, your feet dangling over the edge. The sun burned so strongly that you were eternally grateful for the little shade the few trees behind you provided. But going to the truly shadowy areas would mean going to the tourists and you wanted to avoid that at any cost. Not only were they annoying and loud, they also mistreated and polluted the environment in the most gruesome ways. Also, you couldn't risk that one of them recognized you, your picture being all over the news. Yes, you were on the run, not for something you did, but something you didn't do. If someone reported seeing you, all hope would be lost and you couldn't bear the thought of that. 

It had been three months since you had left everything behind and ran for good, heading to New York for now. Sometimes you'd hitchhike, sometimes climb into the back of trucks or trunks.

But it was needless to say that you were exhausted. Always watchful, always moving, always afraid to get caught. 

For now you were resting a little before continuing your journey, hiding far enough off the beaten tracks to be on your own but close enough to find someone who'd take you further east later on. Maybe there would be some guy or girl you could charm into letting you come along. Maybe they'd even give you some food if you asked nicely, but you wouldn't straight out ask. For now, you patiently waited for nightfall.

"You want to do what?!" Tony asked incredulously right after they had eaten their early dinner at their hotel.

"I want to go out into the canyon and see the nature. You said that's what we came here for after all." Loki responded calmly, looking Tony right in the eye. The man of iron couldn't intimidate him in the slightest.

"But it's dark, you can't see anything! You could just as well sit in your room and turn the lights off." Tony argued, earning him an eye roll both from Loki and Pepper, who sat next to him.

"You guys already forced him to come here with us, maybe you should at least grant him this one wish." She said gently, placing a hand on Tony's arm.

Loki frowned, shooting her a glance out of the corners his eyes. He was quite suspicious of the redhead, though he disliked her a little less than the rest of the team. She seemed not utterly displeased with him being here, that was a start.

"Geez, do you want to take him to the canyon at this time of night?" Tony whined, turning to Pepper with a sigh, then to Thor. "He's your brother, why don't you take him?" 

Thor shrugged, rising his hands in defense. "Can't we just let him drive on his own? I mean, the cars have GPS and obviously none of us is in the mood to drive him there."

"Does he even know how to drive?" Tony grumbled, already sensing that this was a bad idea. 

"I'm right here, in case you didn't notice. But why talk to me when you can talk to my brother…" Loki rolled his eyes. "Obviously I can drive. I'm a god, you puny human."

Tony frowned and looked at Thor. "If he goes missing or anyone in this darn state gets killed tonight, I swear I will make you responsible for his actions." 

Thor sighed, then looked at Loki who was as stoic and slightly bored as ever. "Don't make me regret this, brother…" He said quietly and Tony made Steve hand over the keys of their shared car. 

"What's he gonna do? Drive around and sing along to sad love songs?" Bucky laughed from down the table when he noticed the ongoings.

"Probably getting us all killed somehow…" Steve muttered. 

"Seriously? Does not a single one of you trust me?" The feigned hurt in Loki's voice made Thor snort.

"No." Steve, Bucky, Natasha and Tony answered in unison. 

Loki ignored them, grabbed the keys from the table and his leather jacket from his chair and was off without another word. 

"Be back by midnight or you're grounded!" Tony called after him, earning hearty laughter from the rest of the group, but Loki kept on walking without showing any reaction. As he got in the car, he wondered if trying to escape would be worth it. Where should he go? And for what reason? People in every part of the universe despised and distrusted him… maybe, just maybe if he just tried harder with his brother's friends they would stop mocking him and maybe, one day, even trust him. 

But who was he kidding? He had tried his whole life to be enough and to be liked. Where had it gotten him?

He left the parking lot and drove towards the canyon, probably speeding, but he didn't really care. There was no one on the streets he could harm, except for himself. If he would just drive off one of the cliffs… to fake his death once again? Or did he really want to die this time? He didn't know and he couldn't focus on it right now. Loki's mind was busier than the New York streets during Christmas holidays.

Once he had driven far into the nature, he parked the car on the side of a small, dark road and got out, locking it out of habit. If Stark knew how often Loki took one of his cars and drove to the city to grab a coffee or to find a quiet spot in the nature around New York, he'd have defenestrated him long ago.

Now, out here in the darkness and all alone, he could finally breathe again. His mind slowed down the pondering and he could actually enjoy the view. It was gorgeous out here, empty and rather chilly now that the sun had gone. Lost in the beauty of the nature and his own thoughts, he sauntered off the labeled paths. Rules are made to be broken after all.

For quite a while he enjoyed the solemnity of the quiet walk in solitude. That was until he sensed the presence of someone else.

Without a sound he materialized his daggers and walked on, all his senses on high alert for what was to come.

Meanwhile, you had just woken up from a much needed nap. "Fuck…" You mused to yourself once you looked at your watch, realizing that most tourists must have left already at this time of night. You had just wanted to close your eyes for a few minutes, but ended up sleeping for four hours. Groaning, you put on your way too large fleece jacket, hoping to warm back up quickly. Then you shoved your stuff into your backpack and stood up, taking a final look at the breathtaking view in front of you. 

Suddenly you felt a cold blade being pressed against your throat from behind you. Surprised, you let out a little yelp.

"Who are you? And who sent you?" An incredibly smooth voice asked from very close behind your ear, in such a threatening manner that it made you shudder a little.

"I'm no one." You breathed in a tone as calm as you could manage. "If you wouldn't mind, please consider removing that dagger from my throat. I'm no threat to anyone. If you want to arrest me, please feel free to do so without weapons, as I am not armed myself."

You could feel the stranger behind you freeze, obviously considering your overly polite request. Then the blade vanished from your throat.

That gave you more than enough time to turn around, draw your own blade and point it at the stranger's throat in return. The moment you saw him, you gasped again, but forced yourself to keep calm for now.

"Never trust a stranger you meet in the dark." You whispered.

Not even a second later another blade came shooting up to your throat, so quickly that you couldn't even give any reaction. 

"Who said I did?" He answered and you could both see and hear him smirk. 

His smile drew you in and you found yourself staring at the handsome stranger's face once more. He was quite gorgeous, with a sharp jawline and high cheekbones. His eyes almost seemed to radiate their own light, even though you were sure it was just the moonlight reflecting in them. His black hair hung loosely around his face, softly curling at the end. The whole glory of his appearance caught you off guard.

But he also seemed more than a little taken aback by you.

"You're not a cop." You said calmly, lowering your knife and putting it safely back onto your pockets.

The stranger snorted and also lowered his dagger, but it seemed to vanish rather than be put away. You frowned, assuming that the adrenaline was doing wicked things to your mind.

"I'm probably the one thing furthest away from a cop." He said calmly. "I'm Loki."

"Loki as in… New-York-Attacks Loki?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Why does everyone keep bringing that up…" 

"Well, I'd say because they know nothing else about you. They have a version of your story in their heads and no one ever attempted to tell them that they are wrong." You shot him a small smile. Somehow, you weren't afraid of him. Rather on the contrary, you felt comfortable in his presence.

"You believe they are wrong in believing I'm a criminal and dangerous?" He frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was wearing a black leather jacket with a green sweater underneath, combined with casual suit pants. An odd, yet fitting mix.

"Oh, I very much believe you are dangerous, probably more than anyone else on this planet right now. And you are a criminal, by law. But so am I, that doesn't say anything about you really." You answered confidently. "But I think that they're missing half of the story. I mean… after Thanos and all, it was quite obvious that you weren't really to blame for the attack. If you ask me, I assume that he somehow forced you to do it. But what do I know…"

Loki watched you curiously. It was rare that people ever bothered to question common truths, especially if they concerned him. 

"Who are you?" He finally asked, utterly intrigued by you, but hiding it very well.

"I'm Y/N." You answered, not bothering to try to lie to the literal god of lies. "I hope you've never heard of me."

"Indeed I haven't." He smirked, eyeing you up and down. "Tell me, Y/N… What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" 

"Sit down with me for a while and I might just tell you." You winked, getting the blanket you had just stowed away in your bag back out and placing it at the edge of the cliff. Then you sat down, looking up at him expectantly.

He let out a small laugh. "You're quite comfortable in my presence." He noted as he indeed sat down, as far away from you as the blanket would allow.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You asked sincerely, blinking at him. The clouds which had covered most of the sky up until now disappeared, leaving the open sky's starry landscape exposed. The moon was just bright enough for you to be able to see Loki on the other end of the blanket.

"Most people are afraid of me. Or at least they do not trust me." He laughed, but you could tell he didn't find it funny at all. For someone so complex, you found him quite easy to read.

"Well, you had the chance to kill me, I had the chance to kill you, we didn't do it, so now I'm pretty sure we're not gonna kill each other any time soon." You shrugged. "And I don't have to trust you to be nice to you, I guess… you didn't do anything to earn my mistrust nor my trust and neither did I."

A small smile played on Loki's lips as he watched you, his elbows resting on his knees. He didn't know why, but he had taken an immediate liking to you. You were so different than the people he was normally surrounded by, so fierce and confident. But he could tell there was more to you than this facade you put on. Being able to see through people was something he was used to, but usually he didn't deem them interesting enough to actually try and find out more about them. And there was no way he'd actually open up to people and let them read him.

With you, however, he felt his control slip and his facade breaking down ever so slowly. It both frightened and excited him that you were able to cause such a reaction within him in the few minutes you had talked.

"So… what are you doing out here? I mean… aren't there some superhero duties or something you gotta attend to?" You leaned your head to the side and smiled at him.

"What makes you believe I'm the hero and not the villain?" Loki questioned in return with a smirk playing on his lips. The moonlight suited him, you though.

"Every villain is a hero in his own mind." You simply replied, turning his smirk into a small smile before it vanished completely.

"But seriously, why are you here?" You asked once more, less forward and a lot quieter. There was absolutely no reason for him to answer to you, and you knew that he could leave you in an instant if he desired so, but it was worth a shot.

"I came out here to finally be able to breathe again." He responded just as calmly, his eyes searching for something he couldn't quite grasp within your own.

"I know what you mean…" You sighed and laid down on your back, looking up at the stars above you. "Sometimes the only company one can bear is that of oneself. Leaving the desolation of social life behind you and simply run."

Loki remained sitting where he was and watched you as you gazed upon the stars. There was so much truth in your words, he didn't doubt for a second that you knew exactly how he felt. Had felt that way as well. Maybe, you were just as broken as he was.

"And why are you here?" He finally asked, tearing his eyes away from you. If you kept on being the kindest and most intriguing creature he'd ever met, he didn't know how to save himself from falling.

And fall he would.

A.N.:

Do you guys want a second part? ;) Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

Part 2 Part 3

Tags:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @waiting-for-motivation @oceans-deep-ice

[keijiwrites]

merry little christmas

Pairing: klance

Rating: General

Word count: 1,396

Synopsis: Lance and Keith have been tiptoeing around each other for a long time. They have been friends since forever and don't want to ruin their years of friendship because they both think their crushes are fleeting.

Little do they know, their crush isn’t unrequited.

Team Voltron is celebrating an early Christmas in Adam and Shiro’s home. It’s been seven years since they saved Earth from the Galra. They had all graduated from the Garrison and had full time jobs. They always celebrated holidays together a few days before the actual holiday. They all would go home for a few days with their individual families, so planning festivities ahead of time was a good way to work around that and still spend time together.

Lance knocked on the front door, rum cake made by his mom in his free hand. It was what he always brought and everyone loved it. He really wanted to master it like his mom.

Adam opened the door with a grin on his face and ushered Lance inside, as it had just started to snow. Once inside, Lance took in the decorations with an impressed whistle. Adam and Shiro always went all out when it came to Christmas and this time wasn’t any exception.

Lance immediately noticed all of the mistletoe hung around. “That’s a lot of mistletoe.” He commented as he shrugged off his coat.

Adam chuckled. “We wanted to spice things up this year.”

Lance raised an eyebrow but ignored the strange glint in Adam’s eyes as he slipped on the blue lion slippers he kept at the Shirogane household. He walked towards the living room where Keith, Hunk, and Pidge were.

“Fashionably late as always.” Keith grinned as Lance made his presence known.

“The best for last, my man.” Lance shot him a quick grin as he ruffled Pidge’s hair, followed by a fist bump from Hunk.

Keith rolled his eyes but bumped his fist anyways. Lance walked to the kitchen where Romelle was curiously watching Shiro make miso soup. Allura was chatting away with Coran about the new planet that had joined the alliance as Adam placed the cake on the table.

“Number three!” Coran exclaimed and wrapped him in a hug. Lance chuckled as he hugged back.

Lance hugged the other three and asked if anyone needed help. Shiro shooed him out of the kitchen and told him to go sit in the living room. So Lance did. He plopped down on an armchair close to the fireplace, sweater paws on display.

The youngest of the four, Pidge, talked about their week at work. Keith told them about the work he’d been doing with the Blade.

“More Galras have been joining.” He said as he stretched his arms. He almost looked cat like. “They have nowhere to go so they’re joining up with us.”

Romelle and Allura joined them, handing all of them mugs of hot chocolate. Lance watched as the two girls sat oddly close on a loveseat. He always thought there was something more than platonic going on there but nothing confirmed it yet.

Everyone perked up when they heard a loud groan coming from the hallway. Pidge stomped their way to the living room, mistletoe in hand. “Mistletoe. On the toilet seat. What the fuck, guys?”

“Language.” Shiro chastised.

“I’m 22!”

Lance snickered as Pidge stomped off back to the bathroom before turning to Adam and Shiro who were sitting on the floor, giggling to themselves like teenagers. “What’s the deal with all the mistletoe. Like, I get fun, but on the toilet lid?”

“I found one inside the fridge.” Keith rolled his eyes, but Lance knew it wasn’t out of annoyment.

Hunk squinted at the couple. “Will I find one inside the food? Because I wouldn’t be surprised.”

The two men looked appalled.

“I found one in my cup earlier.” Coran commented and everyone - but Shiro and Adam - groaned.

As the get together went on, Lance was actively avoiding crossing paths with Keith near a mistletoe. He was fine with anyone else. A quick forehead or cheek kiss would solve it, but with Keith? Lance had no idea what to do, so avoiding him was easier.

He was currently in the kitchen, grabbing a drink before they opened presents. He had dropped them off earlier in the day, not wanting to accidentally forget them like the previous year.

Lance gets his drink and walks to the living room (where they're going to be opening the presents). He doesn’t make it there. Keith bumps into him in the hallway, literally, and accidentally spills eggnog all over Lance’s shirt. Keith stared at Lance’s shirt with wide eyes, apologizing so quickly it gave Lance whiplash.

“Dude, it’s fine.” Lance chuckles. “It’s just a shirt.”

“Stay here.” Keith instructs and goes upstairs.

Lance, not really listening to Keith, went to grab a wash rag to clean the spilt eggnog off of himself. He felt his heart jump in his chest a little because Keith looked adorable stuttering. It should be illegal for a man to look cute or adorable at the age of 26. Just as he finished cleaning up the eggnog, Keith walked into the kitchen with a shirt in hand.

Lance grinned at how Keith basically thrusted his shirt into Lance’s hands, ears red in embarrassment. Lance changed quickly, stuffing his shirt in a plastic bag, not wanting to get eggnog on anything else. They walked to the living room and as they reached the archway, everyone turned to look at them.

They looked at them confused until they looked up.

Mistletoe.

Keith’s face turned a bright pink, while Lance’s heart was going a thousand miles a second. He felt like it was going to pop out of his rib cage.

They were stuttering messes, telling the others they would not be kissing anyone under the mistletoe.

“Guess we aren’t opening presents then.” Shiro sighed.

“What?!”

“That’s not fair!”

“What the hell, Shiro?!”

Lance eyed Keith from the corner of his eye, the black paladin looking like he wanted to curl into himself.

“Keith, we don’t-“

Lance wasn’t able to finish his sentence. Keith had grabbed the collar of his - Keith’s - shirt and pulled him forward. This kiss was a little wonky, their noses accidentally bumping together. Lance’s eyes shot wide, arms heavy on his sides.

His mind was going a mile a minute. He felt Keith start to pull away and that’s when his whole body started to work. He held Keith in place by the waist as he finally kissed back, ignoring the dumb cheers from everyone else.

Lance was the first to pull away, eyes wide because what the fuck? Did Keith really kiss him first? He chuckled as Keith hid his face in Lance’s neck after hearing the other’s wolf whistles.

“Can I choke?” Keith grumbled.

Lance snorted, lacing their fingers together. “Come on, you big baby.” He pulled Keith to the couch where he felt his cheeks heat up as Keith curled himself against Lance.

“Great.” Pidge grumbled. “They’re going to be gross now.”

“Let them be, number five. I remember the courtings happening back in the day at the castle.” Coran sighed wistfully.

Lance eyed Allura who only shrugged, but the look in her eyes was the same as Coran’s.

“Presents time!” Hunk exclaimed giddily.

They all exchanged gifts, the Alteans still looking surprised by the tradition. Lance thought it was great. After the exchange, they had dinner and a few drinks. Lance and Keith cuddled on the couch for most of the night, not wanting to be apart from each other. It wasn’t until after midnight that Lance and Keith found themselves alone.

They were the only ones that were up, so Lance stood from the couch and connected his phone to the speakers, turning on classical Christmas music. “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” by Judy Garland started to play. Lance extended his hand towards Keith, his expression soft. Keith took Lance’s hand in his own, standing up from the couch. They stood close together, arms around each other, and swayed softly to the music. Lance pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed and enjoying the moment.

He slowly ran his fingers along Keith’s back, feeling the muscle under his shirt from the training and fighting over the years. Lance didn’t want to admit it, but Keith had gotten buff, AKA, hotter, in his book.

“You’re beautiful, Keith.” He whispered, thumb rubbing Keith’s cheek softly. Keith smiled softly and rested his head on Lance’s shoulder, eyes shut happily because he was finally with the guy he was in love with for years.

[ladynonsense]

Iowa Bound (RCD, Matt x MC)

Surprise @starlightandwanderlust - I’m your Choices Secret Santa! Hope you enjoy this, my first attempt at a RCD fic with your boy Matt. I really hope you like this silly fluff-filled thing!

Summary: Celebrating their engagement, Jessica (MC) and Matt Rodriguez head out on a cross-country road trip to spend Christmas with her family in Iowa.

Rating: PG

Words: 2800

@choicesecretsanta

Los Angeles, California

Jessica surveyed the collection of vehicles before her, frowning. Matt came up behind her quietly, wrapping an arm around her waist as he kissed her temple.

“So what should we take? The Lambo?”

She cringed. “Absolutely not. We’ll look like assholes rolling up in that thing.”

“Aw, come on. Everyone will love it.”

“No, I’m serious. You can’t drive around Cedar Rapids in that thing. And it doesn’t look particularly comfortable for a cross-country drive, either.”

“You’re no fun,” he teased, pulling her back against his chest and wrapping his arms around her. “How about this one, then?” He gestured towards a beautiful but tasteful black sedan. “Your dad must love BMWs, right?”

“Hmmm,” she considered, relaxing into him. “Honestly, he’s more of a pickup guy. But yeah, that will do just fine.”

“Perfect.”

Within the hour they were packed and ready to go, buzzing with excitement.

Monterey Park, California

“This traffic is unbelievable. I literally cannot believe that we are moving this slowly.” Jessica fiddled with the sparkling ring on her finger, looking up at the roof of the car and the way the light from it danced around above her head.

“Figuratively,” Matt corrected absent-mindedly, his attention still on the stop-and-go traffic ahead of him.

“Don’t be pedantic,” she sighed, staring out the window with a sigh. “Why didn’t we just fly, again?”

Matt frowned. “Because I’m tired of collecting cars like an asshole and never driving them. This trip is about freedom! The open road!”

Jess looked pointedly at the not-so-open freeway crowded with angry motorists, but bit her tongue. This was their first trip together that wasn’t just for a shoot, and she wanted it to be perfect. But she knew that ultimately the only important thing was that they loved being together. She pressed her eyes closed, focusing on what she was grateful for, the way her therapist kept nagging her to do.

Number one, you’re here with Matt freaking Rodriguez. In his car. With his RING on your FINGER. You’re going to see your family in just 3 days. You are a respected actress...more or less. Life is good. This is fine.

She looked over at Matt, gazing at his perfect movie star face in awe. Traffic came to a full stop once more and he met her eyes, his scowl immediately turning to a grin when he saw her looking at him so lovingly. “Hey,” he said warmly, “I love you.”

Chuckling, she reached over and squeezed his thigh. “I love you too, hot stuff. But I’m going to have a nap.”

He took her hand and ran his fingers over her knuckles once before releasing it in favor of the gear shift. “You OK?” he asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as he inched forward in traffic.

“Mmmm,” she answered, not opening her eyes. “Just a bit run down lately.”

“Well then I’m glad I’m taking you on vacation. Rest up, Jess.”

She was already asleep.

Laughlin, Nevada

“Pull over NOW, Matt! I’m not jo--” She cut herself off suddenly, pressing her lips together with a pained expression.

“Jess? What are you...” She grabbed the Venti latte from the cupholder and tossed it out the window, then retched violently into the emptied cup, filling it with vomit. “Oh my god! Jess, I can’t pull over here!”

She didn’t dare look up from the cup, sitting there with tears streaming down her face and twenty ounces of warm vomit in her hands. “Uunngghghh...”

“Five more minutes, OK? We’re almost at a rest stop.”

When they finally stopped, Jess bought herself a Gatorade and sat down at the rundown picnic table outside the rest stop as Matt gently cleaned the stream of discarded latte off the side of the car. When he was satisfied with his cleaning job, he came and sat down next to her, feeling her forehead.

“You look pale,” he said, frowning. “Should we turn back?”

“No, no, please, I’m fine. I want to go.” She leaned against him, closing her eyes. “I just get a bit carsick sometimes.”

Matt stroked her back gently. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I think I need to eat something...but everything sounds disgusting right now.”

“Well we could drive into town and try to find a nice salad...or turkey sandwich...” she grimaced dramatically at each suggestion. “...or we could go into the gas station and grab a bag of chips?”

Jess perked up. “Yes. Salt and vinegar. And I’ll drive...I get less nauseated when I’m the one driving.”

“Deal.” Matt grabbed the bag of chips and various other snacks while she settled into the driver’s seat, feeling much better.

St. George, Utah

Jess pulled into the motel Matt had directed her to: the best accommodations available in St. George, apparently. It was a modest little motor inn but looked respectable enough. 

“I’m starving,” Matt groaned. “Want me to go pick up some dinner?”

“Please,” she nodded. “Can you get some fries?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“Uh...no, all I want is fries. And some soda.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Your trainer is going to have my head for feeding you nothing but starch and salt.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “I’ll do a cleanse when we’re back home. Whatever. Fries!” He helped her unload the luggage and then headed out in search of food while she settled in.

On closer inspection, the room was a little gross. The bedsheets were stained and there was a disturbing amount of hair clinging to the walls of the shower. Jess gave the tub and surround a quick scrub with a spare washcloth before treating herself to a long, hot shower.

She was just rinsing the conditioner from her hair, eyes closed as she worked the tangles out, when she felt an odd little tickle on her forearm. Her eyes shot open and she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Matt came barreling into the bathroom, tearing back the shower curtain. “Jess! What’s wrong?”

The massive wasp flew back to the bathroom window that didn’t quite shut all the way, trying to find its way back outside. Jess laughed, trying to come down from the sudden adrenaline rush. “I hate bugs,” she whined.

“I definitely thought there was a full Norman Bates situation in here, babe.” Matt wrapped her in a towel and then in his arms. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry! That thing scared the crap out of me!” She quickly left the bathroom, holding the door open just a crack so she could watch as Matt opened the window all the way and shooed the intruder out.

“All safe now. Come on, let’s eat.”

Grand Junction, Colorado

After an early start and six hours of non-stop driving, Jess felt unsteady on her feet as she got out to stretch her legs. “Are we there yet?” she whined, leaning on Matt for support.

He kissed her forehead gently, wrapping an arm around her. “Not even close. But if you can hang in there until Nebraska, we can make it to your parents’ place by dinner time tomorrow.”

She nodded resolutely. “Yes. I can do this. But I will require a bag of Twizzlers, a bottle of ginger ale, and a bag of seedless green grapes.”

“That’s...specific. But I think we can make it happen.”

Ogallala, Nebraska

“This is...smaller than I anticipated.” Matt drove through the mostly-dark streets of the town, hoping to find something, anything open.

“There we go!” Jess chirped, pointing to glowing golden arches in the distance. Matt sighed.

“I was hoping for something other than fries.”

“So get a gross chicken wrap or something. Come on, there’s nothing else to eat this late.”

They hit the drive-through before heading to their motel for the room. The modest room at least appeared to be clean and bug-free, much to Jess’s relief. She piled all the pillows into a nest against the headboard and reclined there while munching her fries. Matt flipped through tv channels, looking for something interesting.

“Hey, go back! That was you!” Matt flipped back a few channels and landed on his own face, frowning beneath a cowboy hat. “Oh my god, Tender Nothings! Let’s watch it.”

Matt groaned. “No way. That’s so cheesy. We are not going to stay up late watching our own movie.”

She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back to rest against the pillow nest with her. “I love it, though.” She stroked his cheek softly, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “It reminds me of those months I spent falling in love with you.”

He leaned over her, kissing her softly, gently. “Mmmm,” he moaned softly. “You taste like french fries.”

She slapped his chest, laughing. “Everyone loves french fries.”

He pointed the remote control behind him, turning off the TV. “I’m not complaining.”

Cedar Rapids, Iowa

"We made it,” Jess sighed as she drove into the city limits. “Our long ordeal is finally over.”

Matt rolled his eyes and patted her jean-clad thigh. “Such an ordeal, being stuck with me for three days.”

“The worst.” she agreed, nodding. “So, ready to meet the parents?”

“Of course,” he answered with a smile. “I was born ready.”

They stood on the snowy doorstep, waiting patiently for someone to answer the doorbell. Jess’ border collie, Juniper, barked frantically on the other side of the door.

Finally the door opened, and Juniper bounded out, doing her best to tackle Matt right to the ground. “Whoa, girl!” he laughed, petting her head and neck vigorously. “Pleased to meet you too, pup!”

Jess’s mother let out a shrill shriek as she took in the sight of the two of them. Her father came running out from the kitchen to investigate the commotion, and broke out in a wide grin when he saw the visitors.

“Jessica!” he beamed, motioning for them to come in. “You made it for dinner after all!”

“Of course, Daddy!” She wrapped her arms around him and he squeezed her into a tight bearhug that lifted her feet off the ground. 

Her mother was still standing by the door, dumbfounded. “Mom...are you OK?” She left her father’s embrace to come over and nudge her mom in the ribs with her elbow. “You’re acting like you’ve never met the hottest movie star in the world before,” she teased.

She finally seemed to snap out of her trance, blushing. “He is a looker, isn’t he?” She reached out to shake Matt’s hand. “I’m Janice, and this is Kurt, and we’re just so happy to....oh!” Matt ignored her outstretched hand, pulling her into a hug instead.

“It’s great to meet you,” he beamed. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Janice grinned and moved to hug Jess, but stopped short, noticing something. Instead she lifted Jess’s hand up to her face, her mouth hanging open in shock. The diamond on her finger reflected the multitude of coloured lights from the Christmas tree. “Jessica...is this...”

“Surprise!” she announced, smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. “We’re getting married!”

“Jessica!” Kurt gasped, as both parents wrapped their arms around her in a crushing hug. Janice broke away to wave Matt over into their group hug, the four of them coming together in a tangle of arms. When they broke apart, no one’s eyes were entirely dry. Janice was sobbing.

“Mom...are you OK?” She nodded in response, unable to speak through the tears. She was grinning from ear to ear.

Once the news had settled in and everyone had calmed down, they migrated to the kitchen, where the turkey dinner was just about ready to serve. Jess’s father muttered a series of obscenities as he searched through a cupboard.

“What’s missing?” Jess asked, innocently plucking a chunk of crispy skin off of the resting turkey and popping it in her mouth.

“Cranberries,” he growled. “We can’t have turkey dinner without cranberry sauce!”

“No problem,” Matt interjected. “I saw a convenience store still open on the way in. I can go see if they have some.”

“Actually,” Jessica offered, “I think I’ll go. I have a few other things I wanted to pick up. You stay here and bond with the fam.”

Matt squeezed her hand affectionately. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, squeezing back. “Yup. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The four of them talked and laughed through dinner, grilling Matt about his career, fawning over Jessica’s career, and gushing over the delicious food.

“We’ll do presents in the morning,” Janice suggested. “We’ll be up all night if we start in on it now.”

Matt looked to the massive heap of gifts under the tree, spilling out over much of the living room floor and piled high against the wall. “Wow, you guys really go all out.”

“My parents have a gift-giving problem. They start buying things for each other and they can’t stop.”

“Guilty as charged,” Kurt confirmed. “We always say we’re going to scale back, but...” he gestured at the mountain of gifts with a shrug, “this always happens.”

They spent the remainder of the evening playing cards, Jess trying to teach Matt the finer points of hand and foot canasta while Janice and Kurt bickered with each other about their team strategy.

“I don’t even know why I play with you people,” Janice raged as Jess announced that her and Matt had won by a narrow margin. “You’re all a bunch of liars and cheats.”

“Janice,” Kurt scolded. “We lost fair and square.”

“I know,” she whined, “but it’s Christmas! They could’ve let me win.”

Jess laughed at Matt’s look of stunned horror. “Mom is a little intense. But she’ll get over it...just in time for us to beat her again next time.”

They all turned in early. Jess left Matt in the guest room, kissing him good night before heading to her own childhood bedroom. 

“We seriously can’t share a room?”

“Seriously,” she laughed. “Give them some time to get used to the idea of us first, OK?”

He pulled her back into the room for one last long, lingering kiss before releasing her. “Of course. I’ll behave.”

“You’d better,” she winked.

Jess woke up sick again, feeling worn out and exhausted. Her mother met her as she came out of the bathroom, pale and listless. “Oh no, sweetie, are you sick?”

She just nodded, locking herself back into her bedroom. She grabbed the giftwrap supplies that were piled up in the corner of the room and reached into her pajama pants pocket for the small plastic stick that laid there.

After grabbing a quick snack and trying to pull herself together until she looked at least somewhat presentable, she knocked on the guest room door. Matt opened the door a minute later, dressed only in a loose pair of shorts, his hair still a wild mess from sleep. He smiled at the sight of her. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

“Good morning to you, hot stuff.” She pushed her way into the room, closing the door behind her. “I have something for you. Before we get stuck watching my parents open gifts from each other for the next four hours.”

His eyes went wide. “Is it seriously going to take that long?”

“It would not be unprecedented.” She thrust the small, roughly wrapped package towards him. He accepted it with a kiss.

“I left your presents down under the tree.”

“That’s fine, just open this one already.”

He tore open the paper, staring dumbfounded at the item inside for a moment, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from it.

“Well?” She bit her lip nervously, waiting for his reaction.

When his eyes met hers, his smile was the broadest she had ever seen. “You peed on this,” he said accusingly. “Gross!”

She slapped his shoulder playfully. “Are you kidding me!? That’s your reaction!?”

He dropped the pregnancy test, laughing as he pulled her into his arms. “Is this for real, babe? Are you OK? I know we weren’t trying...”

She let out something between a laugh and a sob as she buried her face in his chest. “I’m way beyond OK. Are you?”

“I’m so OK. The okayest. I’m fucking thrilled, Jessica.” They held each other for a long time, both quietly crying and occasionally crying.

Finally Jessica pulled away, looking him in his tear-filled, red eyes. She chuckled softly. “I’m hormonal, what’s your excuse?”

“Just a big softie, I guess. Should we go share the good news?”

She crossed the room to lock the guest room door, before coming back into his arms. “I think we deserve a little alone time first, don’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he whispered.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @hannars97!

One of the requests was for "really like stiles discovered kpop and drag derek with him" and, though my Kpop and Krock knowledge is a couple of years out of date (and I always tended towards Jpop and Jrock because of my job at Jrock Revolution... XD;;), it seemed like Hanna was excited for that particular prompt, so I tried my best and gave it a go! I'm crossing my fingers that you enjoy reading this story, Hanna, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday season. <3

Read on AO3

*****

Words Fail & Music Speaks

+

Falling 이대로 falling for you 날 잡아줄 수 없어도 Falling 또 다시 falling for you 날 감싸줄 수 없나요 Falling like this, falling for you Even if you can’t catch me Falling once again, falling for you Can’t you embrace me? “Falling” – John Park

+

”Where words fail, music speaks.” - Hans Christian Andersen

+

The Stilinski household had once been a home filled with music: rock, pop, classical, Broadway, country—anything and everything was a possibility to be heard. Certain days tended to lean towards a particular style of music—Fridays were the most likely day of the week for Noah to drop by the house and find Claudia singing along to an old school country song, rolling pin clutched in one hand as a makeshift microphone while Sundays typically had Stiles bouncing around the living room and jumping from sofa to armchair to sofa again, headbanging and doing air guitar along to Metallica’s Enter Sandman album. It was a home rich in sounds, in lyrics, and varying vocal qualities and styles.

In various languages, as well:

Claudia introduced Stiles to her favorite Polish singers early on in his life, wanting to share her history, culture, and language with her son as much as possible: because of that, the amber-eyed boy grew up singing along to Marcin Rozynek, Magda Piskorczyk, Stanisław Sojka, Natalia Kukulska, and Irena Jarocka, using his favorite songs from each to slowly teach himself the language that his mother had grown up speaking with the rest of her family when she was his age.

Stiles had only managed a passing ability in Polish before his mother got sick and worsened under the onslaught of the frontotemporal dementia’s symptoms; after the diagnosis came in, the young boy had buckled down and studied for all he was worth, singing old lullabies that he had found on the internet to Claudia on the days her disease struck hardest—hoping, perhaps, that the familiarity of her first language would offer some comfort to his mother as she got worse and worse in the hospital, health slowly but surely spiraling into a decline.

The other side of the coin—the downside—in learning songs to sing and the language to speak to his mother in came as thus:

Noah and Claudia had known from an early age that something was off about their son. His energy tended to be in excess to the children around him and school was a chore for two particular reasons: either Stiles found it impossible to concentrate on the tasks assigned to him, becoming disruptive to the other students around him, or he focused so thoroughly on his assignments that it was difficult to coax him into moving to something new. Doctors were able to diagnose the signs early on and it was a constant and regular occurrence after that to try and find a medication and dosage amount that would work best with Stiles. A solution was eventually settled on—though no medication was one hundred percent perfect—and so Claudia had searched for supplements to include to help her son with his concentration and attention issues.

It wasn’t long after that the Stilinski matriarch discovered that music helped Stiles in unexpected ways; when Claudia ran foreign music in the background, Stiles was able to better concentrate—part of his mind focusing on the music and language, running along with it. But, because the words weren’t in English, they instead became a reassuring background noise to the boy, allowing most of his attention to actually shift to his schoolwork and other assignments given to him.

Claudia’s Polish records, cassettes, and CDs became a default to turn to, if only because her collection for that particular language was the largest, started when she was a little girl. Spanish came soon after: taught at school and the secondary language of California with Stiles the first one to the counter at the local panadería, rattling off their grocery list with a wide smile: pork and chicken tamales for their Wednesday dinner, pan de leche, conchas, and ensaïmada to eat at breakfast and as treats throughout the week (the conchas were always the first to go once Stiles got tall enough to reach the bread box that they were all stored in).

The downside to immersing himself in Polish to offer up a sort of comfort to Claudia as she lay sick and dying came when it became harder and harder to focus on homework with Natalia Kukulska running in the background—after all, now, Stiles was actually able to understand the lyrics that she sang. The same issue arose the further along in Spanish the boy got at school, vocabulary and conjugations gone over week after week, and though Stiles didn’t think that he’d ever be one hundred percent fluent in the language… he now knew enough to understand bits and pieces of the songs played on the radio.

After Claudia passed away, Stiles eventually gave up listening to either option, defaulting to classical music or instrument-focused electronica and club mixes to help him concentrate during extra long homework sessions or research binges. Unfortunately, the music genres were never as helpful as the Polish and Spanish songs were—the lack of vocals giving the boy’s mind an opportunity to drift without that extra safeguard to ensure he stayed on task; it wasn’t completely horrible—not as bad as what it could be—but… well, for quite a while, Stiles’ grades definitely took the brunt of that particular hit.

+

It wasn’t until years later that Stiles finally stumbled across a solution.

Literally.

The teen had been running various YouTube users’ playlist mixes in the background of his laptop while on his current supernaturally-prompted research extravaganza. The latest Big Bad wasn’t a creature that Stiles was able to find in the Argents’ beastiary despite several days of finetoothed combing, so turning to the internet was the next step when the usual tools finally ran dry.

He’d pulled up a playlist from a user that the whiskey-eyed teen typically relied on for ambient, background music, and things had been going well for the majority of the night: until the playlist switched to a new song, one that must have been recently added, and Stiles paused for a moment in his reading to shoot the YouTube tab a suspicious, furrowed look.

Korean began playing over the laptop’s speakers, and the teen huffed a quiet breath while switching over to the video platform website so that he could skip the song and move ahead to the next one.

The moment that Stiles clicked on the tab to see a young man perched on a large throne and wearing a black and white pinstriped suit, bright red hair flowing over the chair’s arms and to the floor, the teen’s eyebrows slowly began to creep up his forehead. The visuals didn’t do much to appeal to him—the scenes with the astronauts left him rather unimpressed—but the dirt scene, one that seemed to ooze post-apocalyptic setting? It intrigued Stiles enough to get him to stay and to continue watching despite the music genre not being what he typically enjoyed listening to as the autoplay selection shifted over to the next song… which ended up being another Korean pop song.

This song—called “Lucifer” and performed by a band called SHINee—had elements of electronica and pop that drew him in more thoroughly than the previous music video. It went without saying that the teen’s interest was piqued by a variety of new music styles, a language that he wasn’t too familiar with—Korean had never been one of the languages that Claudia had played for him when Stiles was young—and researching the newest supernatural threat took a pause while the teen got caught up in a new type of binge watching and listening.

Perhaps after forty-five minutes or so into the various videos that Stiles clicked, one after another, he finally came across a music video that made him pause: the song was older, probably recorded back in 2009, but the genre reminded the teen a lot of the old ballads and R&B songs that Claudia used to sing along to before she got sick. The song was called ”One” and was sung by a group called Dong Bang Shin Ki; looking back, Stiles was able to pinpoint that this was the exact moment when his interest shifted and perhaps turned a bit more serious: curiosity took precedent as the amber-eyed teen scooted closer to his desk, fully prepared and ready to dive more completely into this new thing that caught his attention.

From ”Rising Sun” (also from Dong Bang Shin Ki) to ”Passion” from a singer called SE7EN to a video called ”LA Song” from a guy who sometimes went by either Bi or Rain to ”Sorry Sorry” from a boyband with a ton of members that were called Super Junior to ”Eat You Up” from a pretty kickass female singer named BoA… the more Stiles explored, the more intrigued he became—and the more obvious it was that he preferred certain singers and groups over others, as well as certain time periods in what had been produced and released. (And when he eventually stumbled across Seo Taiji, EVE, and The TRAX, too…? The bottomless hole that was his typical research binge became that much deeper.)

The teen ended up staying up until dawn, ignoring the first blush of light that highlighted the horizon and slipped through his window in a fall of gold, and instead continued clicking from music video and performance—one after another—until Stiles’ dad yelled at him to start getting ready for school because otherwise he’d be late.

+

It was a pattern that quickly established itself as a regular one, and it didn’t take long before the teen was switching his music from the previously established instrument-based electronica and classical music to Kpop (and Krock, on occasion) playlists from YouTube users. He liked the older groups, the ones from 2008 and on—they typically had more of an R&B feel to their music, especially the ballads, and it made Stiles nostalgic for his mom (when that happened, the whiskey-eyed teen tended to lean more heavily towards listening to a singer called Eru).

Such was how Derek eventually stumbled upon Stiles: with the teen absently bopping his head along to Super Junior’s “MAMACITA” playing on low in the background while Stiles paged through another hunter family’s beastiary—given to him by Peter at the pack’s last meet-up, and the teen had been too intrigued at the chance to dive into another family’s records that he didn’t bother asking too many questions about how Derek’s uncle had managed to get his sneaky, sneaky hands on it.

The dichotomy—the unexpected sight of Stiles happily moving along to a song in another language—and what the Hale Alpha had been expecting was enough to make Derek pause at Stiles’ bedroom’s windowsill, and the older man’s expressive eyebrows slowly lowered in confusion as a pale gaze flickered from the oblivious teen to his laptop and back again.

“Do you even know what they’re saying?” the werewolf asked, pitching his voice loud enough for Stiles to hear over the beat of the music. In all honesty, Derek felt that he should have been surprised by finding the teen listening to what he was—but, then again, the Alpha had also stumbled across the cassette collection that Stiles kept in the Jeep. True enough, many of the tapes were legacies left to him from Claudia Stilinski… but a fair amount of the newer looking tapes had Stiles’ writing on them. And those tapes could be described as ‘eclectic’ at best.

“Nope. Do you?” the teen shot back without missing a beat, already alerted to Derek’s incoming visit by the proximity wards, and instead flipped the next page in the new beastiary. A creature that Stiles had never come across before—neither in the Argents’ records nor on the Redbull-fueled internet research binges—was this section’s Big Bad, and it took only moments before Stiles’ attention shifted from the bemused werewolf still perched on his windowsill to the book spread across his lap.

Stiles’ easy disregard sparked something within Derek’s chest—if the Alpha was truthful with no one but himself, at least he could admit within the shadowed protection of his mind that it was an emotion very close to jealousy that surged to ugly life—and the corner of his mouth twisted downwards.

“I do,” he answered in turn, and the burn softened back down to ambers as Stiles slowly blinked, obviously returning to the immediate here and now as he shifted his attention back to the waiting Alpha. Curiosity lit that amber gaze and, to further prove that he could do as he claimed, Derek tilted his head to the side to listen to the lyrics for a moment or two before translating aloud for Stiles’ benefit: “Why are you shutting your mouth right now? Did you decide to just go with the flow? Just say Shh!, then everything will calm down. Everyone keeps nagging. Were you expecting us to be Superman? This world is good enough to play in, right? If you do as you always did, go as you always went. There’s no way you’ll stick out and be hit by a hammer.”

“…oh,” came Stiles’ reply as the teen blinked once more and glanced towards his computer, a new appreciation at understanding a portion of the song softening the look in his eyes. “That’s… not what I was expecting. I like it, though.”

Drawn into the teen’s orbit as the moon drew the ocean’s to tide, Derek ducked the top of the pane and shifted more completely into the familiar warmth of Stiles’ bedroom. One step after another, and curiosity at this unexpected Stiles Trivia tidbit drew the older man to the other’s laptop. A single touch woke it to life—and it was then that Derek saw just how many Kpop playlists the teen had loaded and waiting to be switched over to. The eyebrows yet again traveled upwards over Derek’s forehead, and he poked around each one to see what it was that Stiles had managed to find and collect since the last time the ‘wolf had stopped by his room.

“Why’re you listening to all of this when you don’t understand it?” Derek eventually asked as he scrolled down a list of BoA’s songs that was… rather long.

Stiles remained silent for a long moment, tap-tap-tapping his pen against the curve of a pale, bared knee—and eventually offered up a one-shouldered shrug, Gallic and enigmatic in its lack of meaning. “It helps me concentrate,” the teen replied after a moment or two of Derek waiting, silent and expectant for any real sort of reply. “It was a trick that my mom used to do with different languages. I figured that I would give it a try with… this. It works, so… does it really matter why?”

The connection to a memory from a dead and gone family member—the tenseness along the line of Stiles’ spine, the slight hitch of his voice when he mentioned his mother: they were things that Derek still did himself when talking about the family that he’d lost; it didn’t matter if the loss was years past: some hurts just… didn’t heal.

Derek fell silent at that even as he continued to click through the teen’s playlists, taking note of various artists—seeing if there was a pattern to Stiles’ preferences (there was) and weighing, considering, an idea that slowly began to form along the edges of his mind. Vague and more of an outline of an idea than anything concrete, but… a possibility, a hint, a chance towards something.

“What’s your favorite song? I can translate it for you—if you’d like.”

Vulnerability softened the normally iron strength that filled Stiles’ caramel gaze, and the smile that the teen offered the ‘wolf was crooked and sulky-sweet with understanding and unspoken affection. “…okay,” he agreed, setting aside the bestiary to return to it once Derek was gone. “I’d like that, yeah.”

+

Stiles paused as he flipped open the screen for his laptop, confusion furrowing his brow at stumbling across two tickets—obviously concert tickets, though Stiles hadn’t bothered checking to see if any of his favorite bands and singers were on tour for perhaps two years now (no point, he’d always figured; you never knew when the latest monster flavor of the week would decide to rear its ugly head). So, that being the case, where had these come from…?

The teen flipped them over to see the front of the printed tickets, eyes going wide as he finally caught sight of what the concert was: The Korea Times Music Festival—pool tickets at the Hollywood Bowl with the date showing a little bit more than a month from now.

How…?

What?

…why.

(All pertinent questions that Stiles didn’t have the answer to—but desperately wanted.)

Glancing down to his computer’s keyboard, Stiles picked up the Post-It Note that had been stuck to the back of the topmost ticket, bright yellow slip of paper slipping away as he picked them up. Derek’s sloppy scrawl was immediately recognizable after too many years of notes left behind for Stiles to find in a variety of places (places typically geared towards pissing the teen off during the Cold War portions of their Alpha-Emissary relationship).

Feeling up to heading down to SoCal next month to see some of your bands perform live?

“You grade-A asshole,” Stiles muttered around a bright, happy laugh—corner of his mouth curling upwards into a stupidly sappy grin, dimples on display for anyone to see—and the boy didn’t bother trying to fight against the supernova strength flare of relief and glee and want that exploded to life within the confines of Stiles’ chest as he read the note from Derek.

The answer, when Stiles sent it via text, was simple enough:

I totally am! But only if you’re coming with me, O Alpha Mine. ;)

::fin::

[youremyonlyhope]

Twice Upon a Time

For the first time in 5 years, I am watching the Christmas Special as it airs.

Ft. My dad. Who got sucked in by the opening scene of the Doctors meeting and decided to stay and watch the rest.

Ahhhhh 709 episodes ago! Amazing He did this before???? Oh Capaldi how I’ll miss you. Oh god if One doesn’t regenerate then... everything’s a paradox. Why is time frozen for him too? AND WHAT IS THAT GHOST THING? AND WHAT DO THEY MEAN BY TIME LINE ERROR. OH NO. “World War One? What do you mean, ‘one?’” God. That moment got me in the promo scenes and it’s still getting me. I have a weak point for WWI for some reason. “My nurse.” OH DOCTOR HOW I ALWAYS LOVE YOU. Ok but not the “It seems weird that he’s a man.” part. That’s a no.

My dad is watching with me. He’s enjoying the two Doctors interacting.

They’re being taken by a giant Sim’s diamond plumbob thing. Ok. Chamber of the dead? “The Doctor of war.” Oh god no.  BILL! OK yeah but is it the real Bill? Sunglasses! I LOVE THE SONIC SUNGLASSES. Wait, they harvest from the dying? What? What do they harvest? And how does this fit into the Nethersphere and the Duroc death nothingness of Torchwood? The Whoniverse has introduced so many different forms and theories of the afterlife in the last 10 years. This one at least can fit in with the other two, just time pausing before their death to take memories, then they die and go to the Nethersphere/Torchwood nothingness. Why would the Doctor have to trade the Captain for BIll? BIll’s immortal last time I checked.

Just did a general background of season 10 and the puddles to my dad because he was like “Did she say she’s a puddle?” And I was like I’ll explain later.

Also my dad and I got into a huge argument about Doctor Who and theology and god and death and heaven and hell so I might have missed some stuff.

Is this when the Tardis starts constantly messing up and taking the Doctor where he needs to be not where he wants to be? Bill is not having this sexism. Thank god. FIRST DOCTOR OH MY GOD. SMACK BOTTOM WHAT?!?!?!?!?!! WAS THE FIRST DOCTOR REALLY THIS SEXIST ALL THE TIME? I’VE ONLY SEEN A FEW FIRST DOCTOR STORIES BUT HE WASN’T LIKE THIS! OR I DON’T REMEMBER. The Doctor has had some MAJOR character development over the last 50 (or 1500) years. OH how I am going to miss Bill and Twelve. My dad also really liked the scene and how they interacted. OH NO IT ISN’T BILL. Do they harvest their memories? Or maybe their souls? Something like that. Because it seems like Bill. Is it a Dalek shooting? IT IS A DALEK!! RUSTY!? I THINK I REMEMBER RUSTY! Oh if they mention “Good man” one more time I will either cry or I’ll scream because they still won’t acknowledge Frobisher. Ooooooh an older Doctor Who theme is playing. I KNEW IT WAS MEMORY. I CALLED IT. OK at least it’s Bill. Kind of. Basically Bill. HEY. THAT’S BETH FROM TORCHWOOD. SLEEPER. YES GIRL. “Well I don’t really know what to do if it isn’t a evil plan.” Amazing. Both me and my dad died of laughter.

“OH she’s even cuter off the show! You think they make her cute for the show, but just interviewing her she’s even cuter!” - My dad on Pearl Mackie during the little behind-the-scenes bit in the commercial break.

My dad’s been analyzing this episode theologically. He thinks this is some sort of Holy Trinity, the First Doctor, The Twelfth Doctor, and the Thirteenth Doctor (or maybe glass Bill is the Holy Ghost). And I googled “1 12 13″ and it gave me John 1:12-13 and I read it to him and he thinks it applies. I don’t. But whatever.

He’s gonna be related to someone. He’s gonna end up being related to someone we already know. OH MY GOD LETHBRIDGE STEWART!!!??!?!?!??? OH MY GOD. I SQUEALED. I HIT MY HEAD ON THE BACK OF MY COUCH BECAUSE I THREW MY HEAD BACK. I KNEW IT. OH MY GOD. THEY’RE SINGING SILENT NIGHT. I JUST HELD MY DAD’S HAND. THIS IS A TRUE STORY. HE’S TOLD ME THIS STORY MANY TIMES. I’m not crying you’re crying. Oh this is an older theme too playing why the First Doctor regenerates.

Oh, we could not have asked for a better send off for Capaldi. My dad just was like “Oh this must have been a great Christmas special for fans” after the old footage of his regeneration finished. And Capaldi’s loved Doctor Who since the beginning. So they really could not have had better end for him.

Oh, he’s gonna regenerate in the next 10 minutes. Noooo Capaldi stay a little longer. CLARA. Oh my god he forgot Clara AND HE REMEMBERS HER. I LITERALLY FORGOT UP UNTIL THIS MOMENT THAT THE DOCTOR FORGOT CLARA. I literally was like “...is it Clara? It’s Clara! Clara - b-but hE FORGOT CLARA.” out loud since I realized it mid-sentence and my dad was like “What?” BUT BILL GAVE BACK THE MEMORIES. OH ALL THE PAST DOCTOR REFERENCES. AND THERE SHE IS!!!!!! WHITTAKER! OH NO. HER FIRST ADVENTURE IS GONNA BE FINDING THE TARDIS. GREAT.

Ok. I swear. The first person that I see say something along the lines of “See, the Doctor can’t drive the TARDIS anymore since she’s a woman” I will personally murder them. PERSONALLY. Because I know someone out there will make that joke. And they will be found dead in the morning. And you will know who did it.

Oh I miss Capaldi already.

Watching the End of an Era look back at Capaldi’s run now.

OH. Oh how I love Capaldi.  I’d forgotten about him telling Strax “Shush” immediately when he opened the TARDIS doors. Me and Dad laughed so hard just now. I love Capaldi. Capaldi is definitely nearly tied with Nine in my heart. Twelve is officially above Ten and Eleven. It’s official. Sorry Tennant and Smith, I love you, but I love Capaldi more than you two. Moffat has had a very important impact on Doctor Who, no matter what his devoted haters think. (Me, I have my issues with him, but I don’t hate him. I appreciate him for what he’s done.) My dad’s saying he loves Vincent and the Doctor the best out of the episodes shown from Moffat’s era. “We always hope we can make people cry on Christmas Day.” YEAH OK. THANKS. PROOF THAT DOCTOR WHO HAS NO CLUE WHAT CHRISTMAS IS ABOUT. Oh god I’m gonna miss Capaldi.

I loved this episode. And I loved David Bradley coming back to be the First Doctor. And I loved Capaldi’s everything.

I think the only thing I’m iffy about the episode was the remembering Clara part. I liked that the Doctor forgot her, even though I love Clara and it broke my heart. I don’t like that they reversed all that 2 years later. BUT THAT’S LITERALLY MY ONLY COMPLAINT. SO YAY.

[matarabarian]

Throne of the Abyss Chapter 2

Louis softly blew on the fire he had just started, trying to get it going while the others stared at him like sheep, shifting their weight from one foot to the other in an attempt to keep warm in the frigid night. “Why did we only stop and do this when we were literally freezing?” Philip snapped.

“Because we were holding out hope for finding civilization and sleeping in a heated house with a roof over our heads,” Louis said.

“By we you mean you?” Charlotte, the girl they had picked up, said.

Louis cast her a death glare. “You wanted to sleep outside?”

“I don’t really care, but not particularly,” Charlotte replied.

“Then let me call the shots,” Louis said.

“Who elected you dictator of everything?” Philip demanded.

“You don’t elect dictators, Philip,” Louis said. “Now does anyone want to look for edible berries or small animals? Because otherwise none of us are eating tonight.”

“I- in the dark?” Lucille yelped.

“You’re insane!” Brittany yelped. “We can’t just go running around in the dark!”

“Alright, then no dinner,” Louis said as the fire grew. “That should do it. Everyone pick a spot around the fire and try not to freeze to death.”

“We should sleep together for warmth,” Charlotte said.

“Yeah!” Tristan, the boy who had been with her, said enthusiastically.

“Boys on one side of the fire, girls on the other,” Merry said firmly.

“Are you sure? Because it would be warmer-” Tristan started.

“Stay on your side or I’ll kick you in the nuts so hard you’ll need some kind of surgery,” Brittany warned.

“I’ll be over there,” Tristan said quickly.

Merry groaned. “Great, we have a group of violent maniacs and sex fiends. We’re going to last forever.”

“As long we don’t kill each other, we should be fine. If the more ‘physically prone’ members protected the rest-” Forest started before he broke off gasping and clutching his head. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!

“Forest?” Lucille asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Just that feeling again,” Forest said, taking a deep breath. “It’s fading now.”

Louis frowned, the light of the fire reflecting eerily in his gray eyes. “We need to figure out what that is. It probably has something to do with why we’re all here when none of us remember asking to skydive out of a plane without a parachute over a forest.”

“Maybe they sustained head trauma?” Charlotte suggested.

“In that case, we should get going bright and early in the morning so we can get them to a hospital,” Louis said, lying down. “Head injuries are serious.”

Philip glared at him then reluctantly lay down next to him. “Just so you know, I don’t like or trust you.”

“Noted, now go to sleep,” Louis ordered. Forest lay down on Louis’ other side, trying to keep himself warm with the other boy’s body heat and the fire.

“What are we going to do about the fire?” Lucille asked.

“What about it?” Charlotte asked.

“What if it gets out of control?” worried Lucille.

Charlotte lay down alarmingly close to the fire. “There, if I start screaming in pain, it’s getting out of control.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Louis agreed.

“What?” Tristan, Lucille, Merry, Philip, and Brittany yelled.

“Are you both insane?” Philip demanded. “No one’s burning alive! What the actual hell, Louis?”

“She volunteered, I won’t hinder her own choice,” Louis said. “Unless you think girls can’t make reasonable decisions for themselves.”

“That’s not what I mean!” Philip snapped, looking uncomfortable as he knew he was treading on thin ice now as Brittany glared at him, almost daring him to say something sexist. “I’m saying no one should suggest injury or death for something like this! One of us could easily stay up and watch it.”

“If you want to volunteer, go right ahead,” Louis said. “Just remember we’re going to be walking until nightfall or we reach civilization and I won’t let you slow us down, so if you can walk all day tomorrow with no sleep, feel free to do so. Otherwise, let’s go with her plan.”

Philip growled, his hands tightening into fists. “First thing I’m going to do once we reach civilization is punch you in your smug, prick face!”

“With a temper like that, is it any wonder why I question your judgment?” Louis asked.

Philip stood up suddenly with a vicious snarl on his face. “I’m keeping watch, anyone else want to help so I can get some sleep?”

For a moment, no one said anything, then Lucille raised her hand and Forest leaned over and asked Louis softly, “Is it okay if I assist as well?”

Louis looked momentarily shocked at Forest asking him for permission, then grinned and nodded. “Sure.”

“I’ll take a shift,” Forest volunteered.

“Okay, I’ll wake Lucille up when the moon’s almost at its highest point,” Philip said. “The rest of you, shut up and go to sleep. Louis, I hope you choke on your own spit and die at some point during the night.”

……..

Lucille yelped in fear as she was violently shaken awake, her hands flying up to protect her face.

“Shut up, you want to wake everyone else? I bet pretty, blonde, bratty princess or the self-elected mayor of Pricksburg would like that.”

Lucille lowered her flimsy defenses as she remember where she was. “Sorry,” she apologized meekly. The fire had died down and she could barely see Philip’s outline in the dim light.

“Just get up,” Philip hissed. Lucille quickly scrambled to her feet at his harsh tone and carefully stepped away from the others. “And stop acting like such a pansy.”

“What?” she asked.

“You heard me, cut it out!” Philip snapped. “I know it’s going to piss me off beyond belief eventually and I’d like to nip it in the bud.”

“I- I can’t help it,” Lucille said. “I’m scared…”

“Suck it up!” Philip snapped. “You keep cowering from your own shadow and you’ll be the first to die out here!”

“Louis said we’re going to find-” Lucille started.

“Louis is a son of a bastard who doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” Philip snapped.

Lucille frowned. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I hate Louis, that’s what,” Philip said.

“No, something else,” Lucille said, ignoring the slight pain in her head. “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing!” Philip snapped.

“Tell me what happened,” Lucille demanded, the pain growing.

“It’s just going to scare you, beat it!” Philip said.

Lucille crossed her arms stubbornly as the pain reached a dizzying point but somehow, she didn’t mind. “I have a right to know!”

Philip let out a low growl, then looked up at the stars. “Do you know anything about constellations?”

“Not really,” Lucille admitted.

“Good thing I do,” Philip said. “Or bad thing, if you prefer.”

“What are you talking about?” Lucille asked.

Philip pointed listlessly up at the sky. “There aren’t any constellations.”

“What do you mean?” Lucille asked.

“I’m… a bit of a star nut,” Philip admitted, turning a little red. Suddenly, his hand flew up to the side of his head and he hissed. “Shit… I think I have a little brain damage, too.”

“Are you alright?” Lucille asked.

“I’m fine!” Philip snapped. “Anyway, I know all the constellations, even the ones in the southern hemisphere. I can’t find any of them.”

“C- could you be wrong?” Lucille asked. “Maybe they’re there and you just can’t find them-”

“Look, I’ve seen enough pictures and diagrams of the night sky to know where things should be! None of them are there!” Philip snapped. “I can’t even find the northern star, which should be there if I’m anywhere near home!”

“S- so what are you saying?” Lucille asked, fear gripping her heart.

“Nothing except don’t expect to find a city or a ranger station. If I was up for wearing a tinfoil hat, I’d say we were on another planet and probably abducted by aliens. But I’m not so I don’t know,” Philip said, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

“T- that’s crazy!” Lucille said.

“I’m just stating facts. These aren’t the right stars. But there is a small chance I’m wrong, so take comfort in that. I’ve… never actually seen stars in the night sky,” he admitted hesitantly. “I’ve lived in the city my whole life, so there’s always been too much light pollution.”

“Oh...” Lucille said, looking up at the sky with him. “I’ve lived out in the suburbs, so I can usually see some stars, except for Christmas time. Everyone on my block always tries to compete to have the best decorations.”

“You mean you live in a community of Christmas Spaceys?” Philip asked.

“Christmas what?” Lucille asked, giggling at the name.

“It’s just what I call those people who put up so many Christmas lights it’s like they’re trying to be seen from space,” Philip said. “Always annoys me.”

“Ah...” Lucille said softly. “Hey, Philip?”

“What?” he asked.

“If what you said is true, do you think we’ll ever get home?” she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “If we’re really not on earth, then no.”

“How are you so calm about it then?” Lucille asked, her voice cracking.

“I’m making my peace with it,” Philip said.

Lucille looked down at the ground, squeezing her fists. “I- I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go home! I’m scared! I want to-”

“You’re not going home, got it?” Philip snapped. “None of us are! We are stuck here, in an alien world, and saying the likelihood of us ever seeing our friends or families again is slim to none is a gross understatement.”

“But I’m scared-”

“Big effing deal! No one’s okay with any of this! Except maybe for King Louis the Shithead,” Philip said scornfully. He glared at her. “Go find some firewood.”

“W- what?” Lucille stuttered.

“Did your brain damage mess with the part of your brain that deals with hearing? The fire’s almost out, it’s nippy, get some firewood. Now,” Philip said. “Don’t wander too far, stay within yelling distance.”

“But it’s dark out!” Lucille protested. “What if something is out there? It’s scary! I’m too scare-”

Philip grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. “Move it before you actually have something to be scared of!” he snarled.

Lucille squeaked and tore away from him, racing away from him at top speed. She didn’t know how long she ran, but it couldn’t have been long before she regained control and stopped. Panting, she looked back the way she came and saw nothing but darkness and the vague outlines of trees. Her eyes widened as she realized exactly how little light there was. Back at the camp, there was a dim light coming from the fire, but out here, it was pitch black. “P- Philip!” she yelled. “I- I need some help here! It’s really dark!” There was nothing but absolute silence. “Philip!” she screamed. “I think I got lost! Philip!”

Lucille shut her eyes as tears began to leak out. No, no, this wasn’t happening. She couldn’t do this. It was too much, she couldn’t deal with any of this.

Why don’t you just find some firewood then make your own way back?

Because it’s scary, she answered herself. Her headache came back full force and she crumpled to the ground, holding her head in her hands and shivering from fright and cold.

You’re in just as much danger if you stand still as if you try to get back to camp. Only if you try to get back, you’ll be in less danger once you get there. Why not go for it?

No, no, it was too scary, she thought desperately and her head felt like it was about to split open.

So what? If you die out here, you won’t be scared any longer. You won’t be anything any longer. Pull up your frilly stockings and get moving!

Lucille took a deep breath, the pain reaching monumental heights. If she stopped letting fear control her, she’d probably be fine. She wasn’t too far from camp, if she wandered around a bit, yelling every so often, she could probably find her way back.

But isn’t it so scary? Another little doubting voice whispered, this one vicious and conniving.

No, Lucille decided, climbing to her feet. The pain faded into the background, although still very much present, as she looked around at the dark woods, the shadows of branches resembling claws of barbarous monstrosities, and said in a loud, commanding voice to the darkness, “I’m not afraid of you, or anything you might be hiding.”

The agonizing pain vanished and she felt something in her break. Her eyes went wide, then after a few painstaking seconds, eased back to normal. Everything was still around her, before her mouth twisted up into a vicious grin.

…….

Philip crossed his arms and scowled out at the woods. It had been a while and Lucille still hadn’t come back yet. He had heard faint yelling a few seconds after she left, but refused to answer it. Now, he thought he may have been a bit harsh to her, but it wasn’t the time for babying. Participation points weren’t a thing in this situation. In the absence of government and laws, you fended for yourself or served the most powerful person around. In this case, that unfortunately was looking to mean Louis, which was what worried him.

He hadn’t known Louis for long, but already the gray-eyed boy reminded him of some of the more ruthless drug lords back home. People like that didn’t keep around liabilities, and with Lucille’s attitude, that was exactly what she was. He wasn’t sure whether or not Louis would abandon her out in the middle of nowhere if he thought she was a weakness to the group, but he wasn’t about to find out.

Philip sighed and stormed over to Forest, hand out to shake him awake. That did it, she was gone too long, he had to go find her. It was his fault she was out here, it was his job to go rescue her.

Right before his hand touched Forest’s shoulder, he heard a crunch from behind and whirled around, hands flying up in a position similar to a boxer. “Relax, it’s me,” a feminine voice said.

“What took you so long?” Philip snapped, masking his relief as his hands lowered.

“Got a little lost. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find firewood when all you can see are faint outlines?” Lucille asked.

“Didn’t really think about that,” Philip replied.

“Yeah, do me a favor and don’t make anyone else do that,” Lucille said. “I got lost three times.”

“Alright, fine! I’m sorry!” Philip said with a huff. “But it needed to be done, so suck it up.”

Lucille dumped something on the ground, then threw her arms around Philip and pulled him close in a hug. “Thank you.”

“What the hell?” Philip yelped.

Lucille laughed quietly. “It’s okay, I don’t expect you to understand yet. So I’ll just say thanks for helping me get over my fear.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” Philip said. “Seriously, say one word about this to anyone and you’ll regret it.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Lucille replied, pulling away.

“Are you okay or did you get so freaked out you went insane?” Philip asked.

“No, I just… haven’t been myself as of late, and I needed a shock to my system. So thanks,” Lucille said.

Philip relaxed a few hairs. So her cowardly personality was just triggered by the stress of the situation, that was a relief. He wouldn’t have to force her through any more hazardous situations. “Once again, literally do not mention it. I’m going to get to sleep, wake up Forest when you get tired and feed the fire so we don’t all freeze. See you in the morning.” Philip lay down on the hard, grassy ground and closed his eyes, falling into a light sleep quickly.

Lucille looked down at him, and slyly smiled. “Thank you, I will return the favor as soon as I can, I promise.”