#my friend calls it christmas christmas eve because shes a weirdo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fayes-fics · 2 years ago

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More Than Friends

Friends + Masterpost

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Sequel. Set a couple of months after Are We Friends? After a week away, Anthony missed his girl a lot...

Warnings: 18 smut. minors DNI, handjobs, masturbation (incl. with shower head), vaginal sex, wall/shower sex, touch of edging/denial, unexpected feels in the heart area.

Word Count: 4.8k

Authors Note: This is birthday request fill for @colettebronte for her recent birthday. She requested a sequel to Are We Friends? Sorry I'm a few days late, I hope you enjoy this enough to compensate. This didn’t go where I expected. I know it's Christmas Eve and this isn't remotely Christmassy. Sorry about that. Anyway please enjoy <3

You groan as the insistent buzz of your phone on your bedside table rouses you. You fumble to pick it up and squint at the name onscreen, reluctantly swiping to answer.

“What excuse do you have for calling me at…,” you pull the phone away from your face briefly, grimacing at the brightness, “… 2:13 am, and it better be because you are on fire or something,” you grumble.

“I love how grouchy you are when you wake up,” his baritone voice laced with amusement.

“Bridgerton,” your tone is a warning.

“I was hoping you’d let me in,” Anthony chuckles.

You sit bolt upright. “You are here? Now? Why?!”

“Yes, and yes, I figured ringing your phone was politer than your doorbell. To the last part, do I need a reason?” he drops almost an octave lower,

“Oh god, is this a booty call?” you mime brushing a gross substance off yourself even though he can’t see you.

“Are you going to let me in or not?” He chides but with no heat, evading the question.

“If you answer these riddles three…” you begin, your spirited antagonism still there despite your burgeoning relationship.

“Let me in, weirdo,” he chortles.

“Okay, okay.”

You throw back the covers and shuffle to your front door on autopilot, still not fully awake. Opening the front door to find a suave, suited man with no tie and two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. You almost resent how debonair and put-together he is in the early hours. It's been a week since you saw him in person, and you are surprised as you realise how much you missed him, as he stands before you in flesh and blood.

“You look adorable,” he sighs fondly and steps over the threshold to embrace you.

It just dawns on you; you didn't even check your reflection on the way to the door. Your hair is probably a state, but at least you can usually pull off a spaghetti-strapped top and pyjama bottoms.

“Shut up, I do not; I look sexy and fierce,” you lobby as his arms wrap tight around your waist.

“Of course you do. Adorably sexy,” he placates with mock assurance, his breath warm on your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder, curling into you. On instinct, you hug him back and push your front door closed over his shoulder.

“So what are you doing here?” your bemusement muffled into the hair at his temple as he hunches over you. Up close, you can see a few greys, and it does something to you that you don't want to think about. There are traces of his cologne, but mostly he just smells like Anthony, and you breathe deep, the scent both comforting and stimulating.

“I missed you,” he says simply.

“I saw you yesterday on Facetime, weirdo,” you point out, parroting back his word but enjoying the extended embrace. He hasn't kissed you yet, which is unusual—this seems more affectionate than sexual.

“That’s not the same,” he argues, his lips brushing the sensitive skin under your ear, his hug even tighter. “My plane just landed; I had my driver drop me here.”

“Is that because Ealing is closer to Heathrow than Mayfair?” your query tinged with a touch of sarcasm.

“No, weirdo, it's because I wanted to see you,” he pulls away from your shoulder and cups your face. “But I'm glad it's closer; I'm exhausted,” he admits quieter, and you see the tiredness etched into the corners of his eyes, even in the muted glow of your hallway lamp. He moves in and kisses you, but it’s a gentle, chaste brush over your lips that makes your insides melt just a fraction.

“So, not a booty call? This is a use-my-bed-to-crash-in call?” you tease gently with a twisted pout, holding his hands and walking backwards towards your bedroom.

“If you don't mind, yeah, I just need sleep,” he says sotto voce, stifling a yawn and trailing you.

The fact that he has sought you out to sleep next to you, not sleep with you, seems like a rather profound step forward in your dynamic. But then, many things can seem consequential in the early hours, so you decide not to dwell on it.

“No suitcase?” you remark as you move into the darkness of the bedroom.

“Had my driver take my luggage home,” he explains, shucking his jacket and hanging it on the little chair you use as a clothes horse more than anything. The fact that he knows it causes a tiny flutter of something in your stomach.

“Want some help?” you offer modestly, gesturing to his hand now on his fly, testing the waters around if sex might happen despite his tiredness.

He shakes his head but with a look appreciative of the offer. Ok, no sex then.

“Why don't you get into bed? I'll just brush my teeth and join you shortly.”

You settle under the covers as he disappears into your bathroom, trying not to let your mind turn over too much about this different situation. Jetlagged and sleepy Anthony is a very sweet thing, not your usual sexy sparring partner.

After a few moments, there is a dip in the bed as he climbs into the other side behind you. An arm wraps around your waist as he shuffles into you and pulls you back into him in a spooning position. You feel a wave of body heat through the cotton of your nightwear and realise he is only in boxer briefs. His embrace is comforting, and he sighs onto your shoulder, dropping a soothing kiss there before fluffing the pillow and settling around you, his hand warm on your belly, his minty breath dusting the nape of your neck as he seems to bury his face in your hair and inhale deeply.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, almost into your skull.

“Goodnight,” you whisper back, knowing his warmth and weight will probably lull you back to sleep before you have too many errant thoughts about what is transpiring. When his breathing slows and gets deeper, you feel yourself being tugged under too.

—

Something doesn't feel right. Not in a bad way, not in the slightest. Something feels far too good, and it's distracting your slumber. Or maybe it's just a very vivid dream. Why you would be waking up within a dream seems like a strange point to focus on… Then suddenly, there is a zing of pleasure in your breast that races down your body to your core.

Your world rearranges as you dance the line between sleeping and waking. The sensation becomes sharper as a strong pull on your nipple hurtles you into consciousness with a sharp inhale.

“The lady awakens,” his bemused rumble skitters across your rapidly goose-pebbling skin. You are lying on your back, your top rucked up around your armpits, and there is a head of chestnut hair as you look down.

Anthony Bridgerton. On top of you. His mouth attached to your left breast, something hot and hard branding your thigh through his underwear, where he straddles it.

“Anthony,” your voice is rough-edged from sleep.

His lips pull off your nipple as his head tilts up—his brown eyes shining in the pastel morning light bleeding through the curtains.

“I thought waking you up this way might not be entirely unpleasant for you,” the smirk on his handsome face far too appealing. “An apology for the early hours wake-up call.”

“You are always welcome here, open invitation,” you answer truthfully, “but especially if this is your idea of an alarm clock. Please continue,” you quip, whipping off the top rucked up around your armpits and raising an expectant eyebrow.

He huffs a laugh and kisses your sternum before transferring to your right breast, climbing between your legs and settling over you in a wave of natural body scent that makes your mouth water.

He lathes his tongue wide over your nipple, lapping gently, then biting down with an edge of teeth until it is a stiff peak that he closes his luscious lips around and sucks hard. You can’t hold back the little staccato noises as your hands run over his muscular shoulders and into his luscious hair.

“Sadly,” his speech ghosts over your saliva-damp flesh, “I need to take a shower before this goes any further. I should have taken one last night, but I was too exhausted. Need to wash the journey off me,” he attests as he goes back to lightly kissing your breast.

You doubt that phrase carries as much significance for someone travelling first class as it does back in economy, where you’re usually crammed in, but you can understand the sentiment.

“I think you smell pretty good right now,” you voice without thought.

“I feel like I haven’t showered in 24 hours which, with the time difference, I probably haven’t,” he deadpans as he surges up and pecks your cheek, his chest hair tickling the stiff damp peaks of your nipples. “Care to join me?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye as he kisses over to your ear.

“Is this your way of telling me I smell bad?” You joke, but there’s a flit of concern on your face.

“Y/n,” his resonant voice uttering your name so close to your ear makes your pussy clench as he traces the shell with his nose, “of course you don’t; you always smell wonderful,” the casual compliment just slipping out. “Will you please just say yes to this obvious invitation to shower sex?”

Oh.

“Well, in that case….” you reply, running your hands into his luscious hair, “yes, Lord Bridgerton, I will shower with you.”

“Thank you. Was that so difficult?” he teases with a playful pout, pulling back the covers and hauling you out of bed topless.

His boxer briefs are tented in a delicious way, and part of you wants to just sink to your knees and take him in your mouth regardless of how much he wants to shower. In fact, something about him being a little less than fresh is a peculiar turn-on—just so very potently him.

“Why are you looking at me like you’ve never seen my erection before?” His bemused expression tracking your eye line and not missing your subtle lip bite as he moves towards the bathroom, still holding your hands.

“What? It’s an impressive one. You’ve been away for a week, and maybe I just need to remind myself,” you posit as he pulls you into an embrace.

“Oh, is that so?” His tone is light and taunting, arms encircling your ribcage. He stills in the doorway and surges his hip towards you, so you feel his rigid cock pressed into your belly. “Memory coming back yet?” Dropping his voice into a range that is sinful.

“Maybe…” you demure into his shoulder, then pull away, moving to brush your teeth before you act on the urge to kiss him senseless.

He crowds into your back as you reach for toothbrushes. There is something so casually intimate about the stolen glances in the mirror as you both brush, his chest hair tickling your shoulder blades as he spiders his fingers under the curve of your breast with a small foamy smile. As you rinse, his fingers untie the drawstring on your pyjama bottoms, and his reflection smoulders as he pushes them over the swell of your hips, falling to the floor. He presses the length of his body into your back, and you emit a faint moan as his heated flesh drags over yours; something rigid and hot nestles the upper curve of your bottom.

“Better get naked if you plan to shower,” you smirk at him in the mirror and feel a swell of triumph as he reaches down and pushes off his underwear. His cock bobbing up insistently. You whip around to face him, fisting him and squeezing reflexively.

“Fuckkk,” he stutters, and a hand rounds behind your head, grabbing with an intensity that surprises and arouses, fingers curling into the cords of your neck. “I’d almost forgotten how good it feels to have your hand on me rather than my own.”

The admission sounds like he’s not been intimate with anyone else since you last saw him. You’ve not discussed exclusivity yet, but he is a rich man travelling the world on business, and you have no delusions about the lifestyle that might entail if he so chooses. As you pump him gently in your hand, your breath catches at the mental image of him with his hand wrapped around his cock in some fancy five-star hotel room, sprawled in the middle of a plush king-sized bed.

“You should have called me; I could have talked you through my technique,” you jest, deciding to meet his statement with light humour, your hands moving to cup his balls as he hums contentedly, the hand on your neck squeezing.

“Noted for next time,” is the amused reply, and then he walks you back into the shower enclosure, flicking on the dial.

The warm spray hits your shoulder blades, and you sigh, pulling his arms to join you. He hums in satisfaction, his head tilting back as he luxuriates in the stream of water. You turn up the pressure on the showerhead, and his resounding moan of pleasure echoes up the shower walls; the deep, rich tone causes your nipples to pebble hard—you have to fight your urge to twine around him. Instead, you reach for your shower gel and loofah and scrub his skin lightly, starting at his neck.

“Mmmmm, please, can I have you in my shower every time?” his voice wistful, eyes still closed, almost swaying.

You gently and methodically bathe the skin of his arms and upper torso, enjoying swirling patterns into his chest hair as you buff him clean. As you move lower over his abs, you can't help but grab his cock with a soapy hand and squeeze lightly, cleansing it thoroughly as you tease with delicate motions. He moans and slowly opens his eyes, meeting your gaze with hooded desire.

“I'm just making sure you are thoroughly clean,” you tease, the hand still rubbing his cock long after it is sufficiently cleansed.

He grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss that is all tongues and teeth, biting in intensity. Your tongues roll over each other in tandem with the movement of your hand. When he finally lets you take a breath, you quietly ask him to turn around. He whines a little as you release his cock, but does as you request. Pausing to admire the sweeping curve of his back and the expanse of muscle tapering down to the trim bum that is so irresistible, you push your body into his back, nipples catching his ribs, and he growls as you teeth the upper notch of his spine.

“Touch yourself,” you whisper into the nape of his neck, and surprisingly he does so without retort. He’s usually the one who takes charge, but his silent obedience makes your breath hitch.

He groans softly, and you can’t resist a peek over his shoulder, his body curled slightly concave, cock fisted in his right hand, moving at a languid pace. Reluctant to look away from the delicious tableau, you run the loofah down his spine and lather his back before your hands land on his pert rounded cheeks. You crouch down to wash his muscular, tanned legs, kissing a cheek and enjoying the way his bum flexes as you do. You straighten back to stand behind him, listening to his huffed little noises, watching his arm speed up a fraction as your soapy fingers slide along the crack of his ass.

“All clean; you can stop now,” you offer into his skin.

There is a blur of movement as suddenly he grabs the auxiliary shower head and flicks the spray to a different setting, spins around and pushes it between your legs, the jet expertly pummeling your clit in hot pulsing waves. You almost squeal at the intensity—the switch of power back to him in a whiplash moment.

“How is that?” His voice is velvety as he bites your earlobe. “I need to hear all your delicious sounds, don’t hold back now.”

You attempt to writhe away from the intense sensation, but a strong arm holds you in place, pushing the shower head more insistently up into your flesh. You moan, and he encourages you, a wet slippery hand smearing down your back and spanking your cheek, making you jump and squeak.

“Get inside me.” The plea tumbles from your lips. You want, no, you need, to feel him invading you, his hands rough on your body, him making needy noises, you begging for more.

He drops the shower head, so it is pulsing aimlessly into a far corner, water pattering against the glass, and walks you until your back bumps into the wall. The tiles are cool and glassy upon your heated flesh as he grabs your left leg and loops it over his slippery arm, pulling you open. All with a devastating look on his beautiful face, droplets of water skating down his cheekbones, lips parted and plush; you just can’t take your eyes off him.

Then he nudges your entrance with his tip, requesting access.

“Did you sleep with anyone else when you were away?” your concern slipping out unbidden.

He frowns, and there is a minute shake of his head. “No, why would I?”

“I wanted to know before we do this again, unprotected,” you whisper vulnerably, closing your eyes, embarrassed. Except for that first heated night, you have been using condoms.

“I would never do that,” his sincerity makes your eyes fly open. “We are together; you are the only person I’m having sex with, the only person I've had sex with since that party, and the only one I’ve done it this way with in many years.”

You rest your forehead on his cheek. “Thank you,” you mumble quietly, him answering your lingering questions and erasing doubts in a few sentences.

“Don’t thank me; you should expect that of me. You have no idea what a gift this is, what we have—this connection, this dynamic. It’s very…. precious to me,” he murmurs into your jaw. It’s the rawest and most unguarded he has ever been. Your breath catches as he does so. Something glowing and fluttering under your ribs, like it wants to break free.

“Anthony Bridgerton.” you breathe lightly, your heartbeat soaring in your veins, “are we becoming more than friends?”

“I’m afraid so,” his laugh is a precious feathered thing as he surges into your body and steals all other thoughts from your head.

He stills buried deep inside you, filling you in a way no one else has. Just this has your clit pulsing from the stretch, heat and presence of him. He shoots you an affectionate, heated look before his lips find yours. The hand not around your leg cups your jaw and directs the kiss into something open-mouthed and greedy as he rocks into your body, swallowing your little noises. This languid slow pace feels like the start of something electric, like the patter of rain that arrives before an intense storm you can hear rumbling on the horizon.

Your hands band around his bum as his thrusts grow more intense, and you encourage the movement with a press of your fingers into the muscular round of his bottom. Your teeth skim the meaty muscle where his neck meets his shoulder, and it spurs him to push deeper, piercing your hilt and tugging on that invisible string that seems to run between your hipbones and makes your eyes roll back and your brain turn to static.

“God, Anthony, please, fuck me so hard,” your voice barely recognisable to you, needy and throaty.

The corresponding noise he makes has every cell of your body on fire. This man’s ability to invade your every sense is something that might typically scare you, but with him, it just feels like something primal and earthy—a meeting of bodies just as nature intended.

You gasp as he hooks your other leg over his other arm, pressing the length of your spine hard into the wall. You are entirely at his mercy now, held in his arms, pinned, sliding on the damp, cool tile as the warm swirl of mist from the rain-head shower curls around you.

“I’ve got you,” he assures against your temple.

You nuzzle his face until he pulls back a little, intuiting you need to see his face. There’s a sincerity in his wild gaze that feels so close to authentic that it's a dangerous fire, his eyes blazing burned umber.

You transmit your trust all you can with the sincerity of your expression, and his responding smile is like warm honey settling over your bones as he starts to move again. The solemnity of the moment you just shared rapidly morphs into something hot and desperate again. Him driving up into your body with a snap of his hips that makes him grunt and you keen, wrapping your arms tight around his neck as he fucks you with a blistering pace and depth, your breasts squashed across his pectoral muscles.

Curses and a chorus of yeses fall from your lips between panting breaths as he takes you with such force you slam into the tiles; you know your spine will be sore later, but you don’t care. You want this so much. Blinding pleasure licks at the corners of your conscience as you feel him hot and steely, pounding into you over and over, your walls clinging to him as he stretches you in that delicious way.

He is panting hard from the effort and exertion right in your ear. His occasional moans and words cause a spike of lust in your body, and you whisper encouragements and pleas to not stop, greedy for what you need to push you over the edge.

His arms hitch your legs higher, and he moves down the wall, so your bottom rests on a cool metal grab bar. His hands wrap around it; your legs held up and open even more. The change of angle and leverage for him makes the experience even more intense. He can drive much more vigorously now, and he starts to push up and hit that spot inside that makes you cry out, slamming against your clit as he hits your hilt.

“Fuck Anthony,” you grit out, your teeth clenched, jaw held tight and whole body going taunt as you dangle close to the edge of your orgasm so suddenly.

He slows his pace, and you groan in frustration, taking long, languid motions, using the grab bar to propel himself up and into you.

“I’m so close,” you grit out.

“I know you are,” his voice velvety and proud, “that’s why I slowed down; I want to take you to the edge so many times. I love it when you are mindless and drunk on sex.”

“Anthony, please let me come,” you plead.

“You will,” he vows.

“I want it now,” you pant, almost petulant.

He chuckles richly into your ear “it will be so much better if you let me do this. I’ll only do it one more time, I promise. Then you will come multiple times, and I will fuck you through it.”

So aroused by that little speech, you just nod and move a hand from around his neck to slide between your bodies and pinch your nipple.

“Oh yes, that’s it,” he goads, moving quicker, spiralling you higher again. Your clit and channel burning hot and pulsing. Just as you feel the first ripple of your cunt he stills completely, and you thrash hard in frustration at the denial. You desperately try to move, but he bears you so tight onto the wall that you have no range of motion. You are pinned and impaled onto his cock as he keeps you open to the top of your channel, throbbing and denied. You feel your scalp crawl and every digit on your body flex.

“Anthony,” your voice ragged, “please, please let me come.”

He pulls back, and the mischief and arousal over his face blow you away. He holds your gaze and tilts your heads together as he starts to roll his hips, surging into you almost in a wave-like action.

“Look at me,” he commands when your eyes flutter closed, and so you do, reopening them and meeting his intense stare.

Suddenly he is moving at a blistering pace, and you start to yell with every stroke, but he won’t let you look away. His nose on yours, your mouth panting the same air.

“Touch yourself,” he orders, and your hand slips between your bodies. The moment your fingertips brush your swollen clit, you yell, and you can’t stop the tide from approaching. Your whole body convulses in strong waves as you scream, cry, and writhe on him. Yet his pace doesn’t waver. He just hisses through his teeth as your body clamps around his cock. His lips find yours and slant over each other with bruising intensity.

He was right. Twice denied, you are so overwrought that his pounding action takes you repeatedly until you are floating somewhere far away from your physical self, going limp in his arms, your mind utterly offline. The blissful state is almost ethereal as you feel him grunting and stilling, emptying himself with a guttural moan as deep as he can be inside you, his whole being twitching, his mouth open over yours, gusting hot and cursing loudly. You feel the warmth of his cum running down your walls as he slowly softens and slips out of your body.

“Holy shit,” you whisper; nothing has been as close to that intense before, and your legs feel weak and stiff as a newborn giraffe as he gently lowers you to the floor with a bemused huff.

“I told you,” he preens, reaching to flick off the shower as you just slump against the tile, grasping the railing you were perched on for leverage.

“Anthony, I don’t think my legs work,” you confess, trying to move but unable.

“Good,” he laughs, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently over and over. “I fucked you so well you can’t walk, just like I promised on text the other day.”

“I thought that was a figure of speech” you shake your head disbelieving.

“Oh no, definitely not,” he counters with a smug but handsome smile. “I guess you’ll just have to lay with me in bed all day to recover,” he says playfully kissing your nose, “what a horrible shame.”

——

Later, entangled in bed together after a delicious brunch (where you had your usual sparring contest that somehow ended up making out roughly against the fridge), he pulls you under him and stares into your eyes.

“There is something I would like to give you,” he expresses, almost reserved.

He leans away and snags something from his trouser pocket on the floor beside the bed.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs.

“This better not be something where you put a spider on me,” you wisecrack as he unfurls your hand on the pillow next to your head.

“I promise it's not that,” he chuckles as he places something sharp and cold into your palm. “Open,” he orders softly, and you see a slim metal key in your hand.

You look up at him with a knitted brow.

“That is a key to my place,” he explains. “I would like you to use it whenever you want. Even if I'm not home, you are always welcome.”

You can’t stifle the gasp that escapes your lips at the significance of the gesture, and you push up and plant a kiss on his lips.

His voice turns even more delicate, as if talking too loud would break the moment. “I couldn't bear the thought of returning to an empty apartment after a week away alone,” he admits quietly. “That's why I came here instead. I know it's only been a few weeks, but I have known you most of my life, and I just… I like being around you.” As he finishes the sentence, his exhale has a slight tremulant quality. “There’s no one I would rather spar with on a lazy Saturday,” he adds with a winning smile that makes you huff a misty-eyed laugh.

“Anthony, I… I… I don't even have a spare key to give you,” you blurt out, a fretting look clouding your expression.

His hearty laugh at your response fills the room.

“I know a locksmith,” he shrugs with a modest smile. “But….” he elongates the last letter of the word as his hands slide down your sides and his lips find that sensitive spot below your ear. “I think that can wait until later. Don't you?” His tone turns silky and decadent as he rolls his whole body into yours, his hard cock brushing your clit.

Yes, it can definitely wait.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

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baxteravenue · 3 years ago

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jack seems to invite all of his side pieces and lil secrets home for the holidays to meet the fam, including you. but you’re his girlfriend and although you want to meet his family the two of you still need time to establish a more serious relationship.

inspired by how jack really does this in real life lmao… and how all of his girls seem to follow each other??? i decided to scroll ok tumblr today lol. hope you enjoy this <3

—

“I’m not going home with you for Christmas Jack.” You spoke as you did your nighttime routine. You could feel Jack’s arms wrap around you as you applied some lash serum. “Especially not to meet your family, not to sound like an asshole.”

“Why not, they want to meet you.” Jack whined.

You huffed, turning around to face him. “Because you’re a whore. Things like meeting your family are not at all sacred to you, I get bored and find sh*t Jackman.”

“What’s that supposed to even mean?” Jack gave you a confused look, almost offended that you would even say that… but why wouldn’t you?

Quickly you made your way out of his arms, grabbing the lotion to apply to your legs and arms. “I mean that all your ex side pieces– I hope they’re ex side pieces, are weirdos and you are too kinda. How the hell are you gonna take them all home to your parents and introduce them to your friends? The weirder part is that they all literally follow each other.”

“What does that have to do with you coming home with me for Christmas, I told you I was serious about you. I want you to meet my parents, my brother and all of my friends.”

You and Jack had been dating for about four months, you spent most of your time in Los Angeles while he spent most of his time in Atlanta and Louisville. The two of you had met when he was alone at one of your mutual friend’s parties in Los Angeles and things just took off from there. You werent stupid, you’ve dated rappers before Jack and in order to make sure you didn’t look stupid in the end you did a deep dive on him making sure to find out everything.

One thing you found out was that with Jack, meeting the parents was not a sign of being faithful or really anything serious. The way you saw it he’d probably take a girl he hooked up with the night before to bingo night with his grandma. Jack Harlow was not a serious man.

“They’re friends Y/N.” Jack leaned back onto the bed, “That’s all they are.”

You nodded, aggressively spreading the lotion on your legs. “Alright let me just call up all the dudes I’ve f*cked before you and call them friends.”

“Don’t even f*cking play with me like that.” Jack responded, getting up off the bed pacing in front of you now, “Baby I just really want you to meet my family.”

You nodded, “And I will… in a year when I’m sure that this isn’t just something you’re doing because you’re bored. Also when you unfollow all your exes on literally everything, I’m tired of Miss Side Piece thinking she still has you.”

Jack chuckled lowly, trying his best to hide the smirk that was appearing on his face. “C’mon baby we all know Lil Secret is the better song.”

“Not too f*cking much Jackman.” You glared at him, letting your hair go from its ponytail, “Cause that I want you to meet my family lyric might be hitting for a dozen other girls with your community dick.”

“You’re just mean tonight huh? You haven’t even gone to sleep and you already woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Jack shook his head, biting away his smile.

“I’m not meeting your family Jack, I mean it. Meeting family is something very personal and meaningful, okay? I’m not gonna take some random dude I f*cked in secret a couple times to eat tamales with my Grandma on Christmas Eve.” You were serious about this, the same way you were serious about Jack and with that you knew that four months was not enough time with Jack to establish a real relationship.

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck, looking more and more hurt by the second. “I’m not a random dude though Y/N, I’m your boyfriend and you’re my girlfriend I’m serious about this. The most serious I’ve been about a girl since high school.”

“And I believe you Jack but we’ve been together only four months and out of those four months we’ve gone on about three real dates, we spend most of our time in my apartment, I’ve met zero of your friends. I want to see how we are when you’re on tour, or when you no longer have any more business in LA because the filming is over. If and when we can get through that I will meet your family and you will meet mine. I’m serious about you Jack, but you need to prove to me that you’re serious about me too.”

Jack understood what you were saying and looking at it from your point of view it was weird that he still followed all his exes and maybe it was a little weirder that all of his sneaky links were following each other. But in his defense this was his first ever girl that was not in his circle, his first girl that didn’t come out of Atlanta or Louisville. You were entirely just his.

He also thought about how he did get a little slippery when he went on tour and had constant temptations. You were right, only time and energy would tell if he was serious about you.

Jack nodded, bringing you into his arms. “‘I’m not used to anyone talking back to me you know, shit kinda turns me on.”

You giggled, placing a kiss on his chest. “I’m still your sweetheart baby but I’m gonna give back the same energy. If not that then more, your days of being the alpha you think you are it’s over.”

Jack threw his head back in a fit of laughter, “For you baby, I’ll be a beta.”

“I can’t wait to meet your family, Jackman, but at the right time.” You smiled up at him.

“I can’t wait to eat tamales with your Grandma on Christmas Eve too.” Jack placed a kiss on your lips.

7 MONTHS LATER…

“I’m nervous.” You were currently in the passenger's seat on the way to Jack’s family house for their annual Fourth of July cook out, “Maybe we can wait till Thanksgiving, or Christmas.”

Jack gently grabbed your hand, rubbing circles against your palm to calm you down. “You missed the derby baby, I understand. It’s gonna be a year and I showed you how serious I am about you. Was the Instagram post not enough to show that?”

You fake pouted at him, “Aw was that hard Jackman? Wishing me a Happy Birthday on such a public platform?”

“My follower count went down a few,” Jack looked over at you earning a soft smack to his arm making him laugh. “I’m just joking mama c’mon, everything will be fine. Everyone’s excited to finally meet you in person.”

You nodded, trying your best to keep your nerves in check. Jack Harlow loved you, he publicly claimed you, he took you everywhere, he introduced you to everyone as his girlfriend. He was serious about you.

“You must be Y/N!” An older female version of your boyfriend came out of nowhere instantly embracing you in a hug, “You are just way more beautiful in person.”

You smiled, hugging her back. “It’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Harlow, finally.”

She shook her head, instantly looping her arm around yours, “Please call me Maggie.”

“I’m sorry it took us so long to meet, I just–“

“Please Y/N, it’s perfectly fine. Jack told me your reasoning and I must say it’s very refreshing to finally see him with someone with their own thoughts and someone who knows how they should be treated.” Maggie smiled at you, “I’ve never seen Jack like this… ever. The two of you from what I’ve seen seem very happy and in love.”

You turned back watching as Jack had stood behind, trapped by his family. You smiled, “I would like to think so.”

Both yours and Jack’s eyes caught each other, and you giggled as he sent you a wink and mouthed ‘I love you.’

“I don't think so, I know. I love him.”

Maggie smiled at you, “And he loves you. You can see it in him, it’s consuming him. And he posted you on Instagram so that really confirms it.” She laughed.

“Oh gosh, he’s very proud of himself for that one.” You laughed along with her.

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x you #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow x y/n #come home the kids miss you

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matbarzyy · 4 years ago

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To Love Is To Let Go [A.B.]

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How can the heart and mind find a balance when love and yearning are mixed up with distance and responsibilities?

A/N: I’m so excited for you guys to finally read this! Another conversation about Tito with @itrocksmysocks made us create this story and I ended up writing it, so I hope you’ll like it!

Word count: 12219

Warning: A tiny bit of smut

“If you don’t go get that man I swear!” Adeline’s friend, Maya, exclaimed as she gave her shoulder a push.

They were out to celebrate together in Montreal because a month had now passed since Adaline moved there for her internship assisting a book editor, and it had to be memorable.

“Okay okay! I’m doing it!” The brunette adjusted her skirt, fixed a strand of her hair, and took a deep breath. “I’m going,” she said more for herself than anyone else.

The man across the bar had finally gotten up from the table he was at with his friends to order a drink, and that was the perfect opportunity for Adeline to go up to him. She might not get another chance during the night, so with an extra push from her friend, she found herself walking over to where he was.

“Hi,” she greeted him shyly, making him turn his attention to her. Her voice felt a little weak and looking straight into his blue eyes was more destabilizing than she thought it would be.

“Hi,” he replied as he waited, his tone suggesting she had to continue quickly if she didn’t want to lose his attention.

“I, uh,” Adeline struggled before getting a hold of herself again. She wasn’t a fifteen years old high school girl admitting her crush to a boy, she was a confident woman in a bar, and she was going to act like one. “I saw you sitting with your friends earlier and I figured now was a good time to come ask if I could get you a drink.” She let the sentence out without a hitch, and a little sense of pride filled her until his lack of reaction made her deflate. “Or not, it’s fine if not.”

“No, no,” he reassured her as a smile spread on his face. “I mean, yeah, you can get me a drink, if I can get your name,”

“Adeline,” she told him without hesitation.

“Adeline,” he repeated before nodding. “That’s pretty, I’m Anthony, but most of my friends call me Tito.”

With the introductions over, Adeline leaned against the bar beside him and the bartender came over to them. One drink soon turned into two, the alcohol was going down fast to erase the nervousness, but their conversation was flowing surprisingly easily. Nevertheless, three drinks were all it took for Adeline and Maya to be reunited in the bathroom.

“So?” She grilled her for the details while Adeline pressed her palms over her cheeks, trying to get herself to cool down.

“I really like him,” she admitted to Maya and shushed out her excitement immediately after. “But he could still be a weirdo, he’s too nice to be true.”

“Honey, he’s not a weirdo, he’s a professional hockey player,” Maya chuckled as she revealed everything she knew. “Why do you think he’s so hot?”

“How do you know?” A frown settled on the brunette’s face as she pieced everything together.

“He’s a NHL player, how do you not know?” Her friend countered and reached up to remove a small piece of fluff from her hair.

“Oh my god,” Adeline breathed out. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“It was sweet you didn’t know,” Maya shrugged. “Now go back out there and make him swoon.”

When they returned, Anthony was sitting at a small table by himself, and she didn’t hesitate to join. Maya was friends with one of the bartenders there, so it wasn’t like she minded being left alone.

“I figured it’d be more comfortable,” he explained as she took a seat. “Especially if we keep on going at that pace,”

“You figured right,” Adeline, put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. “My friend told me something interesting about you,”

“Should I start worrying?” He exhaled a nervous chuckle, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly.

“You play hockey?” She looked into his eyes to gauge his reaction. Maybe the alcohol was hindering her perceptiveness, but if she was right it looked like the question made him sad.

“Ah,” Tito’s nervousness settled but a sense of disappointment replaced it. “I kinda suspected you knew already,”

“I had no clue until five minutes ago, figured it was only fair to tell you,” Adeline told him the truth because she knew instantly that the kind of attention he got from being a professional athlete wasn’t necessarily the kind of attention he wanted. “Was it better when I didn’t know?”

“Yes and no,” he replied honestly. “Yes, because it meant you just liked me and not for shitty reasons. No because I wasn’t going to hide it anyway, and you didn’t know for the past hour, so I feel like we’re good,”

“Good,” she smiled. “Feel like having another drink?”

Tito wasn’t one to turn the offer down, and the two spilled things to each other that they would have never considered sharing with a stranger before. It was freeing to talk without boundaries, to be able to say anything on any subject and listen to someone else’s perspective of the world. Adeline thought he was interesting for someone so different. He was down to earth and witty, constantly making her laugh with the dumbest jokes, and maybe it was because she was drunk, but deep down she knew the butterflies and giddiness she felt weren’t from the alcohol.

“You’re so damn adorable,” Tito blurted out in the middle of one of her sentences, and silence fell onto their conversation.

Adeline stared at him while a smile spread on her face, but the cuteness of the moment was cut off by both of them bursting out laughing for no apparent reason. It was a fit of uncontrolled giggles at first, followed by an outburst of deep laughs that they thought would never stop.

“We’re so fucking drunk,” Adeline managed to squeak out through shakes of her chest.

“Yeah, you might wanna let go of this,” Tito reached to gently push her drink a few inches away from her hand, but his inhibitions were low and he underestimated his strength, sending the glass sliding all the way to the edge of the table.

Their eyes widened in shock when it stopped just before falling to the floor, and with that another fit of unstoppable laughter began.

It was something neither of them ever experienced that strongly, that connection with a stranger that made them feel like they had known each other their own lives. In the middle of their busy, messy lives, they had found a bubble of happiness and oxygen within each other.

It took several minutes for them to calm down, and when a relatively normal conversation resumed, Maya walked over to them to ask if she should leave on her own or wait for Adeline. Time had flown by and it was past one in the morning already.

“Five minutes?” The brunette barely looked away from Tito, and Maya took the hint.

“Well, before you go,” He waited until she had walked away to continue. “Can I ask for your number or do you have to be the one taking all the first steps?”

“You can have my number.”

Getting into the uber with Maya was a blur, all that Adeline knew was that she was feeling like a kid on Christmas eve after her night with Tito. She wasn’t drunk enough that she couldn’t make a sentence or walk, but definitely drunk enough to zone out and say everything on her mind no matter how stupid or embarrassing.

“Oh my god, he’s already texting?” Maya took the phone from her inebriated friend’s hands after it buzzed multiple times. “Damn,” she looked over the few messages they had started to exchange.

Adaline didn’t respond, only giggling drunkenly before getting her phone back and focusing on the screen to type another reply. Everything was a little bit blurry, especially in the moving car, but once it stopped in front of her building she sobered up a little.

“Drink some water before bed, yeah?” Her friend told her as she opened the door.

“Yep! Text when you’re home!” Adeline gave her friend a loud kiss on the cheek before getting out and somehow walking to the door without stumbling.

T: Fries would be sooooo good right now

The text came just as she kicked her shoes off while the door fell shut behind her. She groaned out loud at the idea, heading to her bedroom with her phone in hand.

A: Don’t talk to me about food I’m starving now

T: Make food?

A: I can barely hold my phone

Adeline struggled to take her clothes off and sighed in relief once she was finally naked.

T: What if I come over with fries?

A: Omg you would?

T: Address?

“Well shit,” she laughed to herself as she grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants, pairing them with a comfy t-shirt because she was too drunk and tired to put in an effort with sexy pajamas. She was pretty sure sex wasn’t an option for tonight anyway, they were both too drunk, it wouldn’t get anywhere.

Adeline sat on her living room floor to stay awake as she waited, her head lolling from side to side as she scrolled through social media, laughing and snorting out loud in ways she’d never do sober. It only took ten minutes for Tito to text he was there, and she jumped back up with renewed energy at the idea of food.

“My savior!” She exclaimed as she opened the door for him and saw the paper bag in his hands.

“Shh, your neighbors!” Tito laughed at her, letting himself in and giving her the bag before following her to the living room.

“Fuck Tito,” Adeline took in the smell of the fries as she opened one of the boxes and handed it to him. “I owe you big time,”

“They’re just fries,” he sat on the carpet with her. “But I’d take some ketchup,”

“Oh, yeah!” She crawled over to the fridge that was easily accessible since she had an open kitchen. The apartment wasn’t huge, but since the kitchen and living room were merged the living space was big enough.

“Mph,” Tito groaned as he stuffed fries in his mouth. “Best decision ever,”

“And does this look like a good decision?” She said to catch his attention, a bottle of tequila in hand.

“It looks like a terrible decision and I’m so down for it.”

Adeline sat on the floor with him, food, condiment, and bottle of tequila all within reach. She took the first gulp, big enough that it was worth more than a shot, and Tito followed her lead.

The rest of the night was erased from both of their memories.

When she woke up, Adeline felt her body ache in ways it rarely had before. She was still on the floor and there was a bad taste in her mouth as she opened her eyes. The paper bag that Tito brought over was on the floor along with two empty boxes that once held the fries. Tito himself was on the floor too, and his position looked more than uncomfortable, but his mouth was slightly parted, and his chest was rising and falling at a steady rhythm.

“Hey,” Adeline rasped out, nudging him with her foot. “You alive?” She asked as he stirred awake.

An unconvinced grunt reached her in response, and Tito brought his hands up to rub his face.

“Time?” He groaned, counting on her to have her eyes open.

“Eleven,” she pushed herself up and grabbed the counter while a wave of nausea washed over her. “Advil?”

“Fuck yes,”

Tito managed to get up too and downed two glasses of water with the pills Adeline handed him. They were both silent as they sat on the couch and took some time to really wake up. The apartment was on a low floor, and for the first time since she moved in, Adeline was glad for the lack of light that came from outside.

“I’m gonna make pancakes.” She eventually said, deciding breakfast was the only way her stomach would settle.

“Oh, so you’re going to beat me to every nice gesture?” Tito teased although he was glad he was about to eat. She gave him a look and he only smiled, leaning back more comfortably on the couch. “Jokes aside, this was the best night I’ve had in forever.”

“Me too,” Adeline hummed, already pouring milk into the rest of her ingredients and stirring. She cooked breakfast so often she could make pancakes with her eyes closed. “It was a lot more fun than any stupid party I’ve gone to lately,”

The conversation shifted to small talk after that, something to keep themselves busy as they got lost in thoughts. There was some unspoken communication going on, they obviously had chemistry, but they had only known each other for one night and they were already being so domestic it was scary for both of them.

It was clear they could build something together if they gave it a try, but Tito didn’t live in Montreal, and why the hell was Adeline even thinking so far ahead already? She tried her best to focus on cooking to get all of the ideas out of her head and stacked the pancakes in plates before bringing them over to the table.

“I want to eat these every morning for the rest of my life,” Tito almost moaned when he took the first bite of his food.

Adeline always kept maple syrup around, and this morning she even had some chocolate spread and strawberries left from this week’s grocery shopping. It made for an amazing breakfast.

“Thanks, I cook a lot,” she explained as she dug into her own food. “The cleaning up is the not fun part.”

“I hate dishes,” Tito nodded his agreement.

“A nice guest would offer to do them after I just cooked,” she pointed out to see what’d he’d say, and he put on his best angel face.

“Mmh, but a nice host would politely refuse that kind of offer,” he tried to serve his half ass excuse with a smile.

“Do you want more pancakes, or do you want to get kicked out?” Adeline gave him a murderous look in response, and Tito forgot to chew as he swallowed his next bite.

“Pancakes, definitely the pancakes. Promise I’ll do the dishes.”

When the Sunday ended, Tito went home and Adeline spent hours in a bath trying to set her mind straight. She liked him a lot, there was no denying that, but would they ever be able to make anything work? He was an amazing person and they had a great night together, but it didn’t mean he’d let himself fall for her too, especially since he lived in New York most of the time.

A sigh fell from her lips in the steam-filled bathroom, and she let her body slide down for her head to be submerged. The world turned silent and dark for a few seconds, it helped her empty her mind of all thoughts. When she pushed herself up with her feet and oxygen filled her lungs again, Adeline felt a little better.

Little did she know that Tito was dealing with the same dilemma in his own shower. He had tried to work out to sweat the hangover off, but seeing that the twenty minutes of running only worsened his headache, he didn’t take it further than that. It wasn’t really the hangover that was bothering him, it was the feelings he was catching for a woman he had known for less than twenty-four hours.

Was that what love at first sight was supposed to be like? Sure, it wasn’t exactly at first sight, Tito had only felt a connection with her the second she opened her mouth, not the second he saw her, but what even was the difference at this point? How could he even think of the word love? It was a crush at first sight at best.

No matter what they told themselves, Tito and Adeline couldn’t stop thinking about each other. Their constant texting the following days didn’t help either. The conversation was never boring enough to die, and when one of them fell asleep they picked up where they left off as soon as they were up in the morning. Sometimes, Adeline found herself giggling out loud because he reminded her of something he just remembered they laughed about when drinking tequila on her living room floor.

It was Wednesday when Adeline found herself in her bed wishing she could talk to him like they did a few nights prior. There weren’t many boundaries with Tito, they were obviously flirting and open about it, so she didn’t hesitate to tell him she missed seeing him. His name flashed on her screen a second later with a cute picture of his drunk face she didn’t remember taking Saturday night. He was smiling like an idiot, obviously still half laughing, and his blue eyes were sparkling with joy. Adeline hadn’t seen it, but she knew he had one of her too.

“Hello,” she said a little shyly when she saw her face on the screen. She looked like a bit of a mess.

“Hi beautiful,” Tito grinned from his bed, his short hair somehow messed up from the pillow.

“Shut up,” Adeline covered her face with her hand, but he only laughed on the other hand of the line.

“You know, it’s not fair if you get to see me and I don’t,” he reminded her to make her drop her hand. “I missed seeing you too.”

“Mmh, so when are we having a repeat of Saturday night?” She asked him because he had vaguely mentioned making plans during the day.

“Never,” he rolled his eyes. “That headache was killing me. We could do something else, maybe dinner?”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Beauvillier?” Adeline teased, hiding the way her heart jumped in her chest.

“Yeah, how do you feel about it?” His smile was as big as hers when he replied, confident she’d say yes based on the look on her face.

“I feel like I’m free tomorrow night and I’d love to go out.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven?” Tito thought of a restaurant to bring her to immediately, and he made a mental note to call for a reservation in the morning.

“It’s a date.”

Hugging Tito when he came to pick her up felt natural to Adeline. Butterflies erupted in her stomach the second he knocked, and her heart was ready to beat out of her chest when his arms closed around her.

“Hi you,” he kissed her cheek and she just about melted against him.

“Hi,” Adeline greeted him and let go before she made things awkward. “You look nice.” She complimented as she took notice of the navy shirt he was wearing. It matched the blouse she wore tucked in her tweed skirt. August wasn’t too cold in Montreal and she knew she’d be okay with tights.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “You look great too, I like your hair like that.” Tito had to stop himself from reaching up and touching it “Are you ready to go?”

Adeline murmured a quick thanks and nodded while her cheeks burned. She wasn’t easily intimidated but something about the prospect of a date with Tito was making her nervous. What if they didn’t click now that they were sober and seeing each other in person?

“Hey, everything okay?” Tito asked once they were both sitting in his car and Adeline still hadn’t said a word.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just…” She coughed a little to clear her throat and he finished the sentence for her.

“Nervous?”

“Kind of.”

“Me too,” he admitted and glanced at her for a second, keeping his main focus on the road. “That night was great, I just want everything to live up to those expectations now,”

“I feel the same,” Adeline told him, her nerves settling now that she knew he could relate. “But if we can get along when we’re drunk and stupid we can handle a first date, right?”

“Right, as long as you don’t make me sleep on your living room floor tonight, we’re good,” Tito joked, he could still feel the ache in his back.

“First of all, you passed out on said floor, I didn’t make you. Second, bold of you to assume you’re getting invited in again.” She laughed at him. Thoughts of how the night would end had filled her mind all day long despite all the work she had to get done, but none of the scenarios involved him sleeping at her place yet. It wasn’t that she didn’t want it, but it was far too early for something like that. She didn’t want to risk ruining whatever was between them by rushing in.

“What if I bring fries?” He pushed his luck, but it was all playful, and Adeline shook her head again.

“Nice try, but you’re feeding me before we get home this time,”

“Mmh, I’m sure I’ll figure something out.” He rested his hand on her knee, and she moved a little closer to him until the end of the drive.

Tito didn’t get invited in that night, and he was okay with it. He would have been okay with anything after the way she kissed him in front of her door. Maybe it was stupid, but he’d never gotten a kiss like that after a date that didn’t end up leading to something more too fast. There was something more between him and Adeline, and this was easily the best kiss of his life.

“Is that too soon?” She had hesitated, her hand on his cheeks and lips less than an inch away from his.

“No,” Tito replied, anything else he might have wanted to say cut off by her kiss. His body melted against hers, his hand pulling her waist closer as they moved their lips slowly, exchanging a passionate yet sweet kiss.

He replayed the moment in his mind the whole ride home, grinning stupidly and humming along to songs on the radio with renewed cheerfulness. For a while he thought they’d keep kissing in front of her door forever, but noise from a door slamming upstairs reminded them they were still in a corridor. With a few nervous chuckles and one last kiss, Tito had left, and now nothing could ruin his good mood.

That date was followed by another the next week, and another a few days later, until they were so attached to each other they spent every free second they had together. Tito sometimes showed up to her place in the morning with coffee and a bagel from her favorite café so that he could drive her to work. When it was time for her lunch break he’d pick her up and they’d eat out somewhere.

Since it was the off season he didn’t have many obligations, and while Adeline insisted he didn’t have to drive her everywhere, Tito just really wanted to. He usually spent the morning in the gym to stay in shape, and he used the afternoon to see some friends and his family. Every other moment was reserved for Adeline only.

Her internship kept her busy outside of working hours too, but she always managed to make him fit in her schedule and doubled her efforts on some nights to be free during others. It was tough but Adeline’s motivation had never been higher, there was so much happiness in her life that no task seemed too big to accomplish.

Before meeting him, she’d spend all her free time outside or writing poems, which Tito often said she should still do without him. He didn’t want to take away from her personal space and habits, but she simply shook her head and shut him up with a kiss every time. She had never been more inspired than she was when he was around, and her poems gained in quality and length even with less time spent working on them. They weren’t the work of her brain, but of her heart.

“You got me flowers?” Adeline beamed one evening when he picked her up and she spotted the bouquet in the car.

“I should have hidden it in the back,” Tito sighed at the ruined surprise. “But yeah, I haven’t done that for you before. Do you like them?”

“I love pink gerberas,” she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, and when they reached her apartment, Tito got to come inside with her for the first time since they were drunk together. Adeline placed the flowers in a vase at the center of her dinner table and smiled to herself. They matched her coasters; it was her favorite color when it came to flowers. It was only a lucky guess, but Tito really had a way to make her swoon with every little gesture.

“It’s not very big, but let me show you around properly this time,” Adeline had cleaned the previous day and made sure to make her bed in the morning so that she could show him.

They spent the end of the day together, Adeline cooking for both of them and Tito doing dishes as she cooked to help out. It was nice and comfortable, but they were both more than happy when they could finally crash on the couch together.

“Wanna watch something?” She asked, cuddled against his chest. She could have stayed like that forever, just listening to his heartbeat, but she didn’t want him to get bored.

“Mmh, what are you thinking?” Tito rested a hand in the middle of her back, relaxing into her warmth and the soft comforting smell of her place.

“You pick,” Adeline turned the TV on, picked Netflix and handed him the remote so that he could scroll through what was available.

“TV show or movie?” He took note of the things she was currently watching as he scrolled down, and she shrugged against him.

“Movie?” She decided randomly. Her only thought was that she didn’t want him to leave after just one episode of a TV show.

It was clear they were attracted to each other, but everything had been so perfect in their relationship so far that neither pushed for dates to end with more than a kiss. Adeline’s work was a lot to handle on some days, and she was exhausted on most nights, so Tito never felt like insisting he should come in, even just to spend the night cuddling. He knew he’d keep her up forever because they could rarely stop talking once they started.

He picked a movie that looked half decent with her approval, oblivious to the fact that neither of them was planning on watching it anyway. Adeline only wanted to enjoy the feeling of being in his arms like that, and he couldn’t care less about anything in the world as long as he could feel her against him.

“You ever think of how crazy it is that we started getting along so well so fast?” She eventually whispered, wondering if he was one to talk during movies or if he liked watching them without interruption.

The usual answer would have been without interruption, but Tito was much more interested in Adeline than in the movie that night.

“I do, yeah,” he rubbed motions with his thumb on her back. “And it just makes me glad I found you,”

“I feel good around you,” Adeline lifted her head so that she could look at him for a second, she was met with a soft smile, followed by an even softer kiss.

“Should we…” He panted as she kissed back with a little more purpose. “Should we maybe ditch the movie?” Her lips moved to his cheek and down his jaw, making him bite back a groan until she was leaving kisses on his neck and he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Yes,” she didn’t hesitate in her answer, lifting herself off him.

Tito got up after her and pulled her back to him for a passionate kiss, both of them stumbling as she tried to step back towards her bedroom. They chuckled against each other before parting long enough to make it there, and the heaviness of the moment settled on them when they finally sat on the bed.

Adeline got a condom out of her bedside drawer and placed it on the bed so that they wouldn’t have to worry about it later, and as soon as that was done Tito’s lips were back on hers. Feeling him close to her helped her relax, so she followed his guiding hands until she was straddling him and sitting back on his thighs.

There was no rush to their movements, they made out slowly and let their hands wander to begin exploring each other, over their clothes at first, and then slipping underneath the fabrics. Their shirts were first to go, and the sight of their bodies like that was enough for them both to need a moment to just breathe. When their lips joined and they found themselves chest to chest again, the desire and heat of the kiss grew stronger.

Tito’s hands were on her waist, caressing softly before trailing up her back and finding the clasp of her bra. He murmured a question between kisses, and the breathy yes he got in response encouraged him to undo the clasp and remove the material from her body.

His touches were gentle, pulling quiet gasps out of her as soon as he left her lips to kiss over her neck, looking for the tender spots that made her hips roll so close to his. Adeline’s hands were on his chest, discovering every muscle and the way they clenched when he moved to gently push her back on the mattress. She resisted the urge to hide herself from him, and Tito was nothing but loving as he found the spots that made her breathing hitch with the tips of his fingers.

Her jeans were next to go, her underwear following a second after while she tugged at Tito’s clothes to get him to remove them too. She used the opportunity to get him on his back and kissed her way down his chest, earning a quiet moan that turned her on so much she almost moaned back just from the noise.

“Baby,” Tito breathed out when her lips pressed over the bulge in his boxers. “Not tonight, please,” his chest was rising and falling faster.

“Okay,” she listened and lifted her head to kiss his stomach again instead, but he could still see the silent question in her eyes.

“You’re going to kill me if you do this right now.” He explained as he reversed the position, adjusting her until she was comfortably resting on a pillow.

“That’s why it’s so fun,” Adeline grinned, and he laughed before their lips met again.

The kiss was a little messier because of how hard it was for them to stop smiling, but everything intensified when Tito’s fingers found a spot high up on her inner thigh that made her whimper into his mouth.

“That okay?” He whispered close to her ear, kissing the spot just underneath it as she gasped her affirmation.

He didn’t waste another second before slowly sliding two of his fingers against her and rubbing gentle circles over her clit. Adeline clutched his back in response, moaning softly and moving her hips up for more contact. She was overwhelmed by everything about him, from the light scratch of his beard against her skin when he nibbled at her jaw, the warmth of his almost-naked body close to hers, to the incredible feeling of his fingers rubbing against her perfectly.

Tito held back moans that threatened to come out just from feeling her dripping for him. He kissed her deeply as he slowly slid his fingers further down and inside of her, his thumb replacing them over her clit. The noises she made into his mouth made him roll his hips against the mattress for some relief, and his chest swelled with pride every time he felt her body react to his touch.

There had been so much anticipation between them, such a long build up and so many kisses that lingered as they both ached for more, that it didn’t take long for Adeline to feel herself get close to the edge. She clutched Tito’s back harder, holding onto him for dear life as she tried to keep her legs still to let him keep going.

Her moans and gasps sped up when he let go of her lips and opted for kissing her neck instead to let her breathe, and it all encouraged him to pick up his pace, curling his fingers into her sweet spot until he could feel her body trembling. Adeline’s jaw dropped as she came, her legs closing over Tito’s hand, but it didn’t stop him from moving his fingers slowly to ride her through it.

He was slow to pull his hand away when her body finally relaxed again, peppering kisses over her face. She wanted to bask in the feeling forever, but the second Tito pulled away from her to shuffle his boxers off, a new kind of hunger overtook her. She didn’t give him time to come back on top of her, pushing herself up and straddling him again instead.

Tito made quick work of the condom before her lips could latch back onto his and they found themselves chest to chest with no barrier between them. Adeline’s legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed her ass to pull her to him. They stared into each other’s eyes, resting their foreheads together and sometimes letting their noses brush before Tito reached between their bodies and finally placed his tip at her entrance.

He didn’t break eye contact for a second as he filled her slowly, tightening his grip around her until they were as close as they could get to each other. The kiss they shared let them swallow each other’s moans and groans as they began rocking together, barely pulling away from each other before making their bodies meet again.

The temperature rose fast in the room, and a thin layer of sweat covered their skin as they clung to each other. Adeline had never felt this close to someone before, and she had to bury her face in his neck to escape the overwhelming intensity of her feelings when she looked into his eyes.

Tito pulled her even closer at that, grinding against her and softly moaning every time she clenched around him. He was right on the edge, trying to hold back to get her to come one last time, but everything about her felt like heaven to him. His lips found her shoulder, leaving a few kisses there as he felt himself lose control, his thighs clenching hard while his teeth lightly dug into her skin.

His pleasured groan got Adeline to fall apart right after him, her body tightening beautifully in his arms as the noises leaving her lips echoed his. They breathed heavily against each other, remaining still for a few minutes and just letting themselves enjoy the afterglow close together.

Tito pulled away first, carefully letting her down on the bed and kissing her one last time before heading to her bathroom to dispose of the condom. She took a turn in there to clean up right after him, and as soon as she was back in bed, she cuddled close to his chest again.

“Was that okay?” He kissed the top of her head, and her chest shook with a chuckle.

“That wasn’t okay,” Adeline shuffled up so that they could be face to face. “It was amazing,”

“Yeah?” He beamed and she nodded, angling her head to ask for another kiss.

Tito gave in easily, humming against her lips while she guided him onto his back and rested her forearms on his torso to look at him.

“I’m falling in love with you,” she breathed out without hesitation, looking straight into his eyes and watching them widen as soon as he processed the words.

“I’m falling in love with you too,” he managed to answer even with the breath knocked out of his lungs. “I’m falling so hard.”

Their honeymoon phase lasted as long as Tito’s time in Montreal did.

She even met his parents one weekend, and a few of his friends through the weeks. It was all too perfect until his last week before having to get back to New York came along.

“What’s going to happen when you’re in New York?” Adeline addressed it as they walked in a park together on his last Monday in Montreal, her hand in his. It was late and a little cold, but the darkness was calm.

“I’m not sure,” Tito swallowed heavily, looking straight ahead because there was no good solution. “I just… I want whatever’s best for you,”

“You’re what’s best for me, I don’t want to lose you.” Her hand slipped from his as they stopped walking and turned to face each other.

Adeline searched his eyes for an answer, but her fears kept growing with every passing moment. The feelings she had for Tito were unlike anything she ever experienced before, and she was terrified of seeing their relationship end. It was the last thing she could ever want, but he had to make the best decision for his career.

“Then I’m yours,” he reached out and grasped both of her hands in his, bringing them up to kiss her knuckles. “I know not everyone can handle long distance but… but we can’t know until we try, right?”

“Right,” she exhaled her relief and squeezed his hands tighter.

“And New York isn’t the other side of the world, we can see each other on weekends,” Tito continued, trying to work things out in his head and reassure her as well as he could.

“Weekends work,” Adeline nodded, biting back a wave of tears, but her eyes watered anyway.

“Baby, please don’t,” he cupped her face with both hands and ran his thumbs over her cheeks while she wrapped her arms around him. “I know work will make it hard for you to travel, but I’ll come up as often as I can, okay?”

“Yeah,” she hid her face into his chest and took a deep breath to calm down. Nothing soothed her better than being close to him.

“We’ll make it work. I promise.” He rocked her gently from side to side in his arms. “I love you too much to ever let you go.”

“I really- I didn’t think it was possible for me to fall in love like that.” Adeline kissed over his heart, making him tighten his arms around her.

“Me neither, and I know it won’t be easy every day, but it’s all going to be worth it, yeah?” Tito tilted her face up so that their noses brushed.

“Loving you makes it all worth it.” She whispered, closing her eyes and falling for him harder with every press of his lips against hers.

The first month was easy.

They had just spent so much time together that it didn’t feel like the distance would ever be an issue, Tito came up to Montreal for three days, and despite all her work Adeline managed to visit one weekend too.

Sweet attentions helped them push through too, Adeline sent him letters with handwritten poems in them, things he inspired and she thought were worth sharing. Tito sent her flowers and so many loving good morning texts that there was no way she’d ever wake up and start her day without feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

Their time together was a little hectic, a mix of dates to spend quality time together and just staying in bed without letting go of each other unless it was for a few hours of sleep in between. The rhythm was tiring, no matter how close New York and Montreal were, travelling was exhausting. It meant waking up early to go to the airport and have enough time to get through security, and it also meant getting home late at the end of the trip with an early morning start right after.

Still, they were in love and they made it work.

When Christmas came around they felt like they were pros at handling their relationship. Adeline took days off to come spend time in New York so that she could see more of Tito’s world and finally meet Mat, and he came back to Canada for Christmas with his family.

They didn’t spend the holidays together per say, but they saw each other so often that it felt like they did anyway. Every important moment was spent together, Adeline came over to his house on Christmas morning to open gifts and have lunch with his parents, and Tito spent New Year’s Eve at a party her friends organized. They got to exchange a sickeningly sweet kiss just as the year started and whispered their promise to love each other forever.

When hockey became a priority again and Tito had to leave, everything felt bittersweet. The moments they had together felt like they were stolen, something they had to work for because nothing fit in their lives unless they forced it to. There was never a weekend when they could both be free unless Adeline managed to figure out a way to get a break from work, and even when she had things to do, Tito still flew up to see her during the moments she had to spare over two days. His games were getting more important, and the team was already dealing with injuries, so he was having a hard time handling everything without letting anyone down.

Their relationship was strong, but when March rolled around neither of them was truly happy.

“You’re exhausted,” Adeline pointed out something she had been noticing more and more every time he visited. Now, the dark circles under his eyes were visible even through the shitty quality of their call.

“I’m alright,” Tito lied again to stop her from worrying and gave her a weak smile. “You think you’ll be free next weekend?”

“There’s no way you’re travelling again next weekend,” she shook her head, refusing to ask him to put so much effort in again when he clearly needed the rest.

“Well can you come down?” He broke it down to what he thought was simple. If she could move, she’d come visit him. If she couldn’t, he’d come visit her.

“No, I’m stuck this month, I told you,” Adeline sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. Her internship was getting closer to its end and the prospect of a job was real, so she was being drowned in extra work so that she could prove she deserved to stay. As much as she wanted to see Tito to be able to relax in his arms, she knew his training was even more intense than what she had to do.

“Then I’m coming to you,” he insisted again, so Adeline sharpened her tone.

“The hell you are.” She gave him the glare he had received many times before. It was the one that told him ‘I love you but you’re being an idiot,’ and if things were normal, Tito would have laughed and agreed with whatever she wanted.

“So you don’t want to see me now?” He got offended instead, unable to understand why she wouldn’t want him to come. He was doing everything he could to make things work, no matter what.

“Not in that state!” She shot back, feeling tears brimming in her eyes. She was calmer as she spoke her next words. “Tito please, just get some rest… I miss you like hell all the time, but this… it’s not worth it. I’d rather see you a little less and in better shape, okay? We can facetime every night this week or something to make up for it if you want,”

“It’s not the same as holding you,” Tito’s emotions settled too, as defeated as he felt, she was right.

“I know champ, but you’ve got to take care of yourself. Get some rest, okay?”

She made him promise he’d slow down, but Tito didn’t last long. He figured that if he trained extra hard by going to the gym earlier and spent more time on the ice then he’d deserve to spend his days off with her.

Everything was going in the opposite direction of what she asked, but he couldn’t let himself rest if it meant he wouldn’t see her.

“Wake the fuck up!” Anders slammed into him on the ice and sent him stumbling a few feet away. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Tito gritted his teeth, anger clear in his features.

The captain muttered something under his breath as he skated away, hoping this would be enough to get him to concentrate until the end of the practice at least. It was the third time in a row he missed a pass to Mat, something that almost never happened. The two best friends had chemistry even on the ice, they worked well together, but Anthony was fucking everything up lately and the team wouldn’t take it for much longer.

“Alright,” Anders stood in front of him in the locker room once everyone else was gone and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,”

“Beau,” His captain gave him a look. “You’re a good player, but you haven’t played right in two weeks at practice. Thank fuck you’re still alright when we have games, but how long is that gonna last, uh?”

“I’m not going to let the team down.” Anthony promised, and the other man sighed.

“I know you don’t want to, so get your shit together. It’d be a waste to have you sitting on a bench during every game, especially because of some girl,” Anders made his point and watched him get offended, his voice rising as he spoke again.

“Adeline is-”

“I don’t care what Adeline is.” Anders snapped to cut him off. “Adeline is not here, and she’s not worth ruining a career over. If you don’t start showing some proper skills you won’t be playing next time there’s an important game. I need to know I can count on you to be part of the team.”

“You can count on me.” Tito’s jaw was clenched, he was angry, but now was not a good time to lash out. He knew the threat was real, and Anders was probably doing him a favor having this talk with him now rather than letting him get ripped apart by coaches.

“Then start by getting some sleep. You look like shit.” His captain concluded, dropping his arms by his side and walking out of the room, leaving Anthony alone with his thoughts.

Tito tried his best to fix himself over the next week. He got a smile from Anders when things finally went right at practice, and everyone on the team felt relief when they realized they were getting their player back. Everyone thought things were fine except Mat.

He could see past the fake smiles; he could see the hurt in his friend’s eyes when he came to hang out with the team on Saturday nights instead of flying to Montreal to be with the woman he so desperately loved. It wasn’t healthy.

Even when Mat tried to start a conversation he got shut out, Tito wasn’t sharing much with anyone anymore. He was the shell of the player and friend he used to be, so lost in his love for Adeline that he didn’t even realize he was forgetting parts of himself.

“Adeline?” Mat eventually ended up on the phone with her, half of his brain screaming this was the stupidest thing to do and the other half saying it was the only solution. He didn’t want to get in his best friend’s business, but he at least needed to know what was going on on her end.

“Yeah, what’s up Mat?” She took a break from the chapter of the novel she was editing and pushed her chair away from her desk.

“I’m just- I’m sorry I’m calling, I know it’s fucked, but Tito isn’t talking to me and I’m wondering if you’ve heard a lot from him the past few days?”

“Yeah, he’s always texting or calling. Did you guys have a fight or something?” Adeline frowned. Not talking to Mat wasn’t normal, ever since she met Tito she’d been hearing all about his best friend and how well they got along. She also would have expected Tito to mention it to her if something happened.

“No, I mean, yeah. Sort of. He’s been playing like shit at practice, so Anders tried to knock some sense into him, and not very kindly,” Mat explained with a sigh, which only made her worry more.

“Oh. What does that have to do with you?” She asked so that she could finally connect the dots, and the response she got was not what she had expected.

“Well Anders said something about how he shouldn’t let some girl fuck up a whole career, and, uh, it was a shitty thing to say, so I tried to put it more nicely, and he didn’t like it.”

“Right,” she looked down at her lap and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. Was that how the team felt about her? Like she was some girl messing with one of their best players? And if so, wasn’t it her responsibility to make sure she didn’t interfere with his career?

“You’re not fucking up anything, it’s not what I meant,” he quickly caught himself. “But Tito’s just… he’s not himself lately. He’s pretending he’s okay but the travelling back and forth is seriously getting to him, he’s not sleeping, he’s just a mess. It’s bad for the team, and he’s my best friend, I’m worried about him,” Mat was quiet as he spoke the end of his sentence, and she was glad he couldn’t see her.

“I just… I’m not sure what I can do about that Mat,” Adeline felt the tears brimming in her eyes, because she knew.

There was only one way to fix this, and she had been avoiding it for weeks already. The day Tito left Montreal they promised each other they’d do anything to make things work, that they’d never stop trying, but was this promise more important than his health?

“Can you try to talk to him, please? Just make him rest for one weekend,” Mat brought her back to earth as he asked, as if that was all Anthony needed. It would be a start, but it was far from enough. He was already staying in New York most of the time, and it was barely helping.

“I keep telling him to stay home,” she reminded him while pressing her palms over her eyes.

“So he’s not listening to you either?” Mat’s heart deflated at that. He knew his best friend was stubborn, but he didn’t think he’d turn away every attempt you all made to get him to take care of himself.

“No… I’d come if I could, but work doesn’t really allow it right now. I’ll try to get him to stay in New York for the next two weeks, hopefully I’ll get somewhere by talking to him,” Adeline promised herself to make more efforts, to give it one more try in case that was all they needed to make things work again.

“Okay,” he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, hoping that by the end of those two weeks things would look a bit better.

“Are you thinking of anything else?” She prompted him after he turned quiet, and Mat sighed.

“No, you’re… you were really good for him at the start, you know?” He delved into the part he probably shouldn’t be saying out loud, but he needed her to understand how bad things were. “It made him so happy, and I know you guys are still happy together, but with the way things are right now, he’s messing himself up. Badly. It’s not your fault, I just hope you guys can find a balance that works for you both again.”

“I’ll figure it out, have a nice day Mat,” Adeline put an end to the conversation, and he rubbed his hand over his face as he sighed.

“Yeah, you too.”

When Tito called her less than twenty minutes later, he couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to talk. Adeline declined his call after the second ring and told him she’d call later even though they had planned on talking to each other at that time. Her lack of texts and explanations made him overthink everything, so when Mat and a few other guys showed up to his place an hour later, he wasn’t in the mood to hang out anymore.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Mat told him when he expressed his concern. “Just have a beer and chill out,”

“You can’t be sure she’s fine,” Tito argued as he grabbed the beer and took three long gulps.

“I talked to her for a bit today, so she’s fine. She’ll probably call you tomorrow, yeah?” Mat let the information slip because he figured it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Adeline was bound to tell him at some point anyway.

“You talked to her?” Tito frowned, the information not sitting well with him. Mat barely knew Adeline; they hadn’t gotten many chances to hang out because Tito always hogged her attention whenever she was around.

“Uh, yeah,” Mat was suddenly more than uncomfortable. He didn’t want to lie to his friend, but with the way he was reacting he felt like he would have been much better off keeping his mouth shut.

“And now she’s not picking up my calls.” Anthony grew suspicious, and the look on Mat’s face didn’t reassure him in the least. “What the fuck did you say to her?”

“I just told her I’m worried about you, you’re not yourself lately.” He admitted, feeling like being honest was the best option.

Tito didn’t lose his cool easily, but somehow this made him angry.

“Can’t you all stop with that? I’m fine.” He replied harshly, and Mat kept his mouth shut.

He thought for a second looking at the wall ahead of him and nodding. Mat was done fighting, he had offered his help, he was there to listen, but he wasn’t going to sit and let Anthony get mad at him when he was only trying to show he cared.

“Yeah, right.” Mat got up and headed out of the room, abandoning him to his thoughts.

Tito sighed and checked his phone to distract himself, knowing he had to get out there and apologize in a minute or two. A text from Adeline caught his attention, and his mood lifted instantly.

I’ll be in New York tomorrow

He almost screamed right there, but he bit his lip and contained his smile instead as he typed back.

For real?? What time am I picking you up?

He had been feeling so off, he couldn’t wait to hold her. It had been too long since he got to see her and it was hard for him to hide his excitement.

I’ll just meet you at your place

The response Tito received made his heart deflate. Something was wrong. He always picked her up from the airport, he’d done it every single time, so why shouldn’t he do it tomorrow? Between his conversation with Mat and that, the uneasiness he had felt since the declined call only increased.

“You okay?” Brassard asked as he walked out of the kitchen.

“Sorry, I’m just not in the mood tonight,” he walked past everyone and went straight for his bedroom, closing the door and locking it so no one could come bother him.

It wasn’t fair to shut his friends out like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing mattered anymore, he was in a constant state of numbness when he was in New York. Playing hockey helped, the games put him in the right mindset, but as soon as he stepped off the ice his world fell apart all over again.

Adeline was the only thing keeping him together, but she was also the reason he was being torn apart. She had watched it happen too, she saw the way it started, his sudden disinterest for anything that wasn’t hockey or her, the sadness she caused and tried to fix so hard. She thought that with more time together their time apart would be easier, but nothing she did helped Tito work it out. Their relationship had been rushed, they fell in love and their feelings for each other became an obsession, one Anthony couldn’t manage anymore.

He was only happy when she was with him, but even then parts of himself were missing.

Mat and the other guys left soon after he disappeared, giving up for the night and deciding they’d try to spend time with him another day. Anthony was too stubborn, there was no point in them staying. He didn’t care about what was going on that night, he couldn’t think of anything except Adeline.

Just one night of sleep, one day of work and she’d be in his arms.

Tito was in his head and time flew by, so when he made it home the next night he was constantly checking his phone to know where she was. She texted when she landed, so he was waiting close to the door when he knew she was about to arrive.

The front door was open before she was even out of the elevator.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Tito let her walk in and pulled her into a hug to take in the sweet scent of her perfume. His eyes fell shut as he finally felt his body relax. Adeline was the remedy to everything in his life, nothing felt better than having her close.

“Tito,” she pulled away a little as she spoke, trying to put some distance between them.

“Mmh?” He kept his hands on her waist, tugging her against him because he wasn’t ready to part from the hug just yet.

“Anthony, stop,” she pushed on his shoulders and took a step back. “I’m here because I need to talk to you.”

“What’s going on?” Tito frowned at the use of his full name. Deep down, he had known for days that something was coming, but now that he had to face it he didn’t feel prepared enough at all.

A heaviness settled over the room, the usual playful and happy atmosphere of their reunions nowhere to be found.

“I don’t think we should be doing this anymore.” Adeline said, her hands linked together in front of her.

The words hung in the air for several seconds. There was an apologetic look in her eyes as she waited for Tito to react, his expression going from shock, to panic, and to confusion all within a few seconds. He had expected her to want to talk, to ask for a break from things at worst.

This was something he had never considered.

“What?” He whispered, unable to form a word any louder than that.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’re not happy like this,” she felt her heart break as he stammered to start a sentence. He looked exhausted, there were dark circles under his eyes, and now his features were twisted in pain.

“Adeline, don’t. You- you don’t know what you’re saying, I’m fine, and-” Tito struggled to say anything coherent, he spoke too fast, but he was scared that if he didn’t say anything she’d vanish.

“You’re not fine. You’re not in the right headspace to train because you’re always thinking of how to get away from New York, you’re not focusing on what should matter to you the most and you’re making yourself sick because you’re not sleeping,” Adeline shook her head, looking down to avoid crying. She couldn’t take the look in his eyes, they used to be so full of joy, but now the blue was dulled by tears that blurred his vision.

“I am sleeping,” he croaked weakly and reached for her.

“That’s not the point!” She stepped back to dodge his touch. She wasn’t strong enough to fight him on this for long, he held too much power over her, she’d cave in no time if she let him touch her. “This was never the point. You were right, not everyone can do long distance and we couldn’t know unless we tried. Now we know, it’s not working out.” She swallowed back her sob and took a shaky breath in to calm down.

“Adeline, please,” Tito shook his head, teardrops rolling down his cheeks already. “No, please,” he didn’t know what else to do but beg.

“I’m sorry,” she looked up. As hard as it was, he deserved at least that, but the broken look in his eyes made her fall apart.

“No! You’re the love of my life, I can’t just let you go,” he refused to go down without a fight, not when she was the only woman he had ever loved. He saw his entire life with her, they could have everything together, and he couldn’t let it go so easily.

“You have to. I’m asking you to.” Adeline wiped her thumbs underneath her eyes to catch her tears. She knew he’d respect her decision, no matter how much he hated it, because he always respected boundaries. She just had to tell him she didn’t want him anymore, and that was the hardest part, having to lie to protect him. “This isn’t healthy for you, and frankly, it’s not healthy for me either. I’m always on my phone, I can barely focus on work because I’m wondering when you’ll be free to call, I’m going to sleep so fucking late every time we call and I just… I just can’t keep doing this any longer knowing it’s hurting you.” She explained, and he used that time to settle his breathing.

“We can work through a rough patch,” his voice was a little raspy, but he pushed through. “I’ll… I’ll stay in New York for longer periods, and we can schedule calls so that it’s not as messy,” Tito brought up every solution he could think of, but she already knew they were pointless.

“You’re making this so hard,” Adeline sniffled quietly, glancing down at her feet again. “I’m sorry, but I’m not changing my mind.”

“So that’s just… it?” He felt like he’d just received a punch to the stomach. Adeline looked up as he took a step back, shaking his head a little and looking completely lost.

“I guess,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling.

“I’m in love with you, isn’t that worth trying a little bit harder?” Tito couldn’t believe the feelings settling inside his chest. He was slowly processing every word she had said, and there were so many things wrong with this conversation. What happened to their promise?

“You think I haven’t tried hard enough? You think I haven’t tried my fucking hardest?” Adeline let the tears flow down her cheeks, and her chest shook with a sob, but she fought to keep her voice steady.

“Well you’re the one giving up now!” He clenched his jaw, sniffling loudly and tugging at his hair in despair. The hurt had kicked in, and he was angry now.

“Because you’re not okay! And I had to find out from your best friend because you keep lying to me and you’re not taking care of yourself!” She raised her voice to his level, and he scoffed, pacing around his living room.

“Mat doesn’t fucking know what I’m doing, if I’m saying I can handle it, then I can handle it!” Tito was sick of everyone around him telling him how to feel and what to do. Focus, train harder, take a break, sleep, travel, don’t travel, call me, don’t call me, spend time with friends, call your family. It was all too much, and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mat just asked me to check up on you, and he was right, you’re not fine, and I’m the reason you keep getting worse. I just can’t do this anymore,” Adeline’s voice softened to hide the way it cracked halfway through, but he caught it anyway.

“Fucking great.” He bit his cheek to stop himself from breaking down. Watching her like this, the woman he loved more than anything in the world, was destroying him. She felt the pain too, and he was causing it.

“You’re angry, and I get it,” Adeline took a deep breath in and dropped her hands by her sides, wondering when he’d snap. She was the one giving up, so she was ready to take it. “I’m so sorry, this isn’t how I pictured things going between us... I’ll just go… I’m really sorry.” She turned around, ready to walk out so that she could break down somewhere he wouldn’t see her.

It was better if he was mad at her, his anger was much easier to handle than the look he first gave her.

“Adeline wait,” Tito crossed the room in two long strides and wrapped his hand around her arm before she could reach the door.

“What are you-” Adeline turned around to face him and he released her arm to hold her waist instead.

“Just one more.” He murmured with his lips so close to hers she could already feel how soft they were through a brush. “Please, just one last night,”

He kissed her to stop her from replying, to stop her from thinking rationally, and to fucking beg her to give him this last thing. Adeline wasn’t strong enough to pull away. Instead, she melted into his touch and responded to the kiss with a passion fueled by her heart falling into pieces.

Just one last time, she told herself as she kept on kissing him, blindly letting him walk back to his bedroom.

They could taste the saltiness of their tears as they moved their lips together, tangled in each other with her straddling him and her legs around his waist, just like they had been the first night they were together like that. They didn’t exchange any words, kissing and hiding their faces whenever they had to so that they wouldn’t see the other breaking inside.

It was all too much and not enough, so when Tito kept her tight against his chest to lay in bed, Adeline didn’t fight him. She closed her eyes and bit back tears, pretending she wasn’t about to leave so that he would let himself fall asleep.

Tito was safe with her so close, his grip was tight, he wasn’t ever letting her go. It was what he told himself as he drifted off to sleep, telling himself they’d talk in the morning, that he’d find a way to convince her they could still fix things.

Adeline felt like her heart was being torn apart when she crawled out of his arms in the early hours of the morning. She hadn’t slept for a second, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up. For a moment, she even thought she should stay. What if Tito was right? What if he could stay in New York for more time? They could schedule the calls like he said to make things easier.

The idea disappeared from her mind with every moment she spent looking at him, fast asleep in his bed when he used to always wake up whenever she moved. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was exhausted, and she was only making it worse. Leaving was the only way.

Adeline grabbed as much of her things as she could carry and got dressed in the living room as quietly as possible, but with how hard she was crying she was surprised none of her sobs had woken Tito up yet. A few of her things were still in his room, but it was nothing she desperately needed back, and if she woke him up she’d never be able to leave. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from going into his bedroom to look at him one more time.

He was so beautiful when he slept, so peaceful and relaxed. Adeline wished she could see him smile one more time, just to be able to admire the spark in his eyes whenever he did. She knew that if he woke up they’d only be filled with sadness and fear, all because of her, so she took a deep breath and scribbled one last thing on a post it note, placing it on her pillow before leaving his apartment silently.

An hour later the sun was up, and Tito was shaking as he woke up. He sat up immediately to grab the cold bed sheets on her side of the bed. It all felt like a nightmare. The bedroom was silent apart from his heavy breathing, and he turned his light on before looking around for any sign she was still here.

After they held each other so tightly during the night, the way they loved each other, how could she have left? Tears stung in his eyes as he took notice of everything in his room. Her clothes were gone from the floor, her notebook wasn’t on the nightstand, and he could see his closet cracked open with two empty shelves. Her shelves.

Tito’s heart tightened in his chest as the reality of the situation hit him. His body was tense but he couldn’t move. His whole world was falling apart, he was completely lost, scrambling for something, anything he could hold onto.

He found it in a single blue post-it note on his pillow, her pretty cursive handwriting recognizable easily.

I’m sorry,

Please reblog and let me know what you thought!! Writing is a lot of time and effort, I appreciate all comments, asks and reblogs more than you know <3

#anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier fic #anthony beauvillier fluff #anthony beauvillier angst #tito beauvillier angst #tito beauvillier fluff #tito beauviller fic #tito beauvillier imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #new york islanders #ny islanders

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multifandom-girlie · 4 years ago

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𝐅𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞

Imagine: Your parents think your bringing home a boyfriend for Christmas but you don't have one, so you ask someone really nicely to be your fake boyfriend.

Pairings: Human!Klaus x Human!Reader

Warnings: none.

Words: 1895

I was just walking out of Mikaelson Enterprises- where I work as Klaus Mikaelson’s assistant. When I get a call. I look down at the screen and notice an image of my mother pop up. Great. Just what I need after a long day of work. I decided to pick up the phone otherwise she will just hound me.

“Hey Mama. What’s up ?”

“Hello Sweetheart, I just wanted to make sure you were still driving down tomorrow and ask how you are ?”

Crap. I forgot I was meant to be driving home tomorrow.

“Uh yeah, I’m still coming down. Also I’m good, how is everyone ?”

“Good apart from you brother, he got into a fight on his last day of school.”

“Mama, don’t go to hard on him you know he’s having a difficult time at the minute with Dad. I’ll talk to him when I get there.”

“Okay I won’t. Anyway I’m excited to meet this new boyfriend of yours.”

“Uh what are you talking about Mama ?”

“Well you promised you were going to bring your boyfriend home this year so that we could all meet him.”

Shit. When did I say that. Damn my mother for having a good memory at such an old age. What am I going to do ? I could say we broke up….but that would break her heart. Fine. She wants a boyfriend of mine, then she’ll get one.

“Yeah sorry Mama, it must of just flew past me just a moment ago. I’ve had a really long day at work and not much sleep.”

“Are you sure your okay to drive down ?”

“Yeah I'm sure. I gotta go Mama, I love you.”

“I love you, Sweetheart.”

I ended the phone call and stood there debating with myself where to find a boyfriend within the 19 hours before I have to leave. Bearing in mind, I still need to cater to my own needs first like sleep, food and most certainly hygiene. The problem is I can’t just go out on a date and invite him to my parents house. Preferably it needs to be someone that I already know and who doesn't have plans. I’m screwed. I know that everyone I know has plans for christmas. The only person that wasn’t was my boss, but that is in all ways wrong. Even if we have hooked up a couple of times. That’s it, if I promise to sleep with him hopefully he’ll do this for me. God forbid something goes wrong.

I walked back into Mikaelson Enterprises and passed Camille, the receptionist with a big fake smile. She’s hated me ever since she found out I got assistant to Klaus and not her but truthfully it’s because she’s too ditzy and clingy too Klaus, since she has the fattest crush on him but moving on. I got out the elevator, once it reached the top floor where Klaus was. I headed to his door and knocked.

“Come in.”

I opened the door and he looked up from his paperwork with a confused look on his face.

“I thought you’d left Miss Y/L/N.”

“Yeah I did, but my Mom called and reminded me about something. Which is actually why I’m here. Could you please please be my fake boyfriend for the week.”

He looked at me and chuckled. He stood up from his chair and leaned on the front of his desk, just in front of where I was seated.

“Your fake boyfriend for a week ? For what ?”

“Christmas.”

“Where ? Why ?”

“My hometown. Also it’s because my mom thinks I’m bringing home a boyfriend and she’s going to be so disappointed when I don’t bring anyone back.”

“What do I get out of it ?”

“What do you want ?”

“I want to take you out on an actual date afterwards.”

Woah this just went down an unexpected pathway.

“What ? You want to take me out ?”

“Is there a problem with that ?”

“No ! There’s no problem, unexpected is all.”

“Right okay then, I’ll arrive at yours with my belongings tomorrow morning at 9am.”

“Perfect. I’m leaving at 10am.”

I smiled at him and walked out, surprised by what had just happened. Nevertheless, I got home ate my dinner, showered and went to bed.

When I got up the next morning, I brushed my teeth got some coffee and put my bags in the car. Once I was ready I looked at the time, 8:59 am. I heard a knock on the door and thought it as weird that it could be Klaus since it had only just turned 9am. Weirdo. As soon as I opened the door, I led him to my car and drove off just after he had secured himself in.

______________________________________________________________

13 Hours Later

Luckily Klaus was asleep for the most of it, so I just listened to my music and drove. He woke up with around an hour left on the drive, so we actually had a nice normal conversation. As soon as I pulled up outside the house, my mom and dad were stood outside waiting for me. I got out the car and ran to my dad, who has his arms wide open for me. I jumped into his arms and he held me very tightly and kisses my head. I giggled when he spun me around.

“Hi Daddy, I missed you so much.”

“We all missed you so much more sweetheart.”

I pulled away from my dad and pulled my mom in for a tight hug.

“Hi Mama.”

“Welcome home baby ! Now where is he ?!”

“Oh right.”

I ran over to Klaus, grabbed his hand and quickly whispered in his ear.

“Follow my lead okay.”

He nodded and I held his hand and walked over towards them. We stopped in front of them and my mom couldn’t stop smiling, my dad however didn’t look massively impressed.

“Mom, Dad… this is Klaus Mikaelson. My boyfriend.”

“Mikaelson as in Mikael and Esther Mikaelson ?!”

I looked at my dad confused as he said that, how would he know his parents already when me and Klaus weren’t actually dating. I haven’t even met them and they are the owners of the company I work for.

“Uh yes sir.”

“Dad, how’d you know that ?”

“Me and Mikael don’t get along very well that’s all.”

“Right, well it’s Christmas Eve and it’s getting late already Y/N you’ve been driving so long, why don’t you and Klaus go and unpack in your room and then come down and see everyone to drink some hot cocoa and watch films.”

“Okay Mama.”

I took Klaus in and was immediately bombarded by my youngest niece, Skylar.

“Hey Sky, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too Auntie Y/N, who is this ?”

“Sky, why don’t you give us 5 minutes and then I will come down and tell everyone okay ?”

“Okay Zia.”

I smiled at her, loving the fact she’s started to embrace her Italian side now than pushing it away.

“So that’s why I don’t understand you when your mad sometimes ?”

“What do you mean, Klaus ?”

“I mean, you speak Italian when you get mad.”

“Oh right, yeah I try not to but it’s just natural.”

“So your fluent ?”

“Oh yeah my whole family is, I was actually born in Italy but we moved here when I was 2 for my Dad’s work, since he used to work in the army.”

“That’s quite cool.”

“Thankyou.”

We headed to my room and I started to unpack until I saw him just standing at my door, not doing anything.

“You know you can unpack if you want, I’ll leave you 2 drawers. There’s not much room elsewhere in the house with everyone here. So your gonna have to stay with me.”

“Okay.”

When we finished unpacking, we headed downstairs so I could introduce everyone to Klaus and reunite with my family.

“Hey everybody !”

Everyone turned around with massive grins and I managed to get around and hug everyone.

“Before we go any further, everyone this is my boyfriend Klaus Mikaelson.”

“As in Elijah ?”

What the hell is with my family knowing everyone but him in his family.

“Okay wait, your the second person to mention another one of his family members. Who else knows any Mikaelsons ?”

Three of the eleven-excluding myself and Klaus- raised their hands. My younger sister, my father, my younger brother and my sister’s boyfriend. Eventually, we found out Camilla had slept with his older brother Elijah, my father we already knew had met his parents, Christian used to be friends with Klaus’ younger brother Kol and Blaine used to date Rebekah and while back.

We eventually got over that and sat down as it was late already to watch a film and drink hot cocoa, I felt bad about leaving Klaus isolated from everyone even if Skylar was fussing over him. So I sat next to him on the couch and put a blanket over us before the film started and Skylar relaxed on the other side of me, hugging my side.

Twenty minutes into the film, my nerves from sitting next to Klaus watching films and drinking hot cocoa with my family lessened and I relaxed a bit more. That was until, Klaus put his arm on the back of the sofa and I started to fall asleep-causing me to fall into his side. When my head hit his chest, my eyes opened immediately almost as if they never closed in the first place.

“Sorry, I’m so tired.”

He chuckled and rested his hand on the side of my head bringing it back to his chest.

“It’s fine, it’s what couples do…also you have been driving all day. If you fall asleep, I promise I will take you to bed.”

I looked into his eyes and smiled before I pushed the boundaries I had made in my head and wrapped my arm around his stomach. My fingers brushed against the warm skin on his stomach as his sweatshirt had rode up a bit. I blushed very much and I’m return I felt a chuckled vibrate on my cheeks and Klaus’ hand rest on my hip as my shirt had rode up a little too. I looked up at him and without even taking any thinking time his hand gently but quickly pulled my lips closer to his and pressed them against mine. We made out for a few minutes before pulling away.

“There’s nothing weirder than making out with your boss whilst my 9yr old niece is staring at us.”

We chuckled and looked at her and she immediately averted her eyes.

“I don’t care who’s watching, I’ve wanted to do that for years.”

“Seriously ? Why haven’t you ?”

“I can’t make a spectacle in the workplace.”

“Your such a twat, Thank You for doing this. Your making it hard for me to say no to that date you asked me on. Unless you promise me that is not the last time you kiss me like that because…wow.”

He chuckled and kissed me again. I can quite easily say that I do not regret lying to my mom for once in my life. If it wasn’t for me lying, I wouldn’t have got this opportunity.

MASTERLIST

#klaus mikaelson #klaus x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #the vampire diaries #the originals #christmas #december #countdown #italian #the originals imagines #to imagine #imagines #tvd imagine #the vampire diaries imagine

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raleighcarrera · 4 years ago

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this is a holiday writing request fill for @pixelsandkink, who asked for anything soft and/or sexy for raleigh & mc featuring the prompt “why does the house smell like a cinnamon roll threw up?”

aj, i adore you and am so glad we’re mutuals and friends !! you’re such a gift to the fandom and your writing is some of my favorite ever, so i hope you enjoy this and the holiday season this year as much as we all love u !! ❤️

even before the cold front rolled through and blanketed the five boroughs with so much snow they couldn’t see out their windows, they had planned for a low-key holiday.

he was just coming off tour and cadence had a lot going on in the new year, so instead of traveling, they’d planned to do christmas at home, in brooklyn, with just the two of them.

cadence’s grandma had complained over zoom and his own mother had given him quite the earful about it, too, but part of him was excited for an excuse to just lay low for once, in their apartment, and eat what they wanted at whatever time was convenient. for once, he’d be able to give cadence her presents with no one gawking at them, and wake up with her slowly on christmas morning, instead of already running late for something before he’d even had the chance to shower.

but just because they’d planned for something less chaotic than normal didn’t mean that cadence wasn’t still going into full on north-pole-elf mode, just like she did every year.

he shuddered as he stepped back inside their blessedly warm apartment, shaking snow from his collar. “babe?” raleigh called out, over the distinctive sound of something clanking in the kitchen, “i couldn’t find pure vanilla extract so i just got imitation, i hope that’s oka...”

his voice trailed off into nothing as he stopped in the archway between their kitchen and living room. cadence was standing in front of the oven, the kitchen suspiciously clean around her save for an ominous pile of dirty dishes in the sink that, for some reason, included two different blenders. she smiled innocently at him as he looked around.

“why does it smell like a cinnamon roll threw up in here?” he asked, holding the bag from the store out to her.

her expression fell down into a frown as she plucked it from his hands. “i made gingerbread cookies. they’re not supposed to smell like cinnamon.”

“oh.” he ran a hand through his hair, which was damp with snow from outside. “that’s what i meant. it smells good.”

“yeah, right,” she sighed, and then, as he went for the fridge to get himself a drink, “wait, don’t --”

raleigh paused, frowning at the pitcher on the top shelf. it stood out among the takeout containers and condiment bottles filling their otherwise bare fridge. “what’s this?”

she mumbled something from behind him that sounded almost like -- “did you say coquito?” that was the last thing he’d ever expect to come out of her mouth.

over his shoulder, he saw cadence nod. he leaned back into the fridge and pulled out the pitcher. “you made this?”

“yeah, but -- just based on what it said on wikipedia,” cadence rushed to explain, the words tripping out in a ramble, “so it’s probably not right. or good.”

it looked right. from a glance alone, whatever she’d made was indistinguishable to the most authentic coquito he’d ever had, though it’d been a long time since he had a drink so thoughtfully prepared by anyone -- let alone someone as clearly careful as her.

“can i try it?” raleigh asked, stepping closer to the counter.

“it’s eleven-thirty,” cadence said, even as she moved to get down two glasses from the cabinet. he scoffed; like that had ever stopped them before. “get some ice.”

he leaned against the counter as her dainty hands measured out ice cubes for each of them, slowly pouring coquito into both glasses before passing him one. cadence held onto her own without drinking from it while raleigh lifted his to his lips and took a sip, hyperaware of the way cadence was watching him anxiously as he did so.

“wow, babe,” he said, once he’d swallowed, “it’s really good. i can’t believe you made this.”

cadence’s whole face lit up at once, her expression brightening. “really?” she asked, before drinking from her own glass and swallowing with a cough. “it’s really strong.”

“it’s perfect,” raleigh insisted, though they were both likely to be drunk by lunch if they had any more. “because you made it for me. you’re the best.”

he opened the arm that wasn’t cradling his glass and pulled her into his chest to drop a kiss onto her forehead, but cadence looked up at just the right moment, and once he saw the sweet expression on her face he couldn’t not press their lips together. outside of his control, some instinct inside him took over and tilted her head back to kiss her as thoroughly as possible, teeth grazing her bottom lip as his tongue demanded her attention.

cadence was wide-eyed when he finally let her up for air. “raleigh,” she breathed, “jesus. warn a girl, next time.”

“incoming,” he announced unceremoniously, before nudging her back against the counter and kissing her again, fumbling to set his glass down and then yanking hers from her hands, too, freeing the both of them to wind their arms around one another so he could kiss her passionately.

her lips tasted sweet, coconut and rum dancing on his tongue when he sucked on her skin. she was warm under his hands, which still felt cold from the chill outside and the six blocks he’d walked to get to whole foods to look for that stupid vanilla extract for her.

the coquito had still been perfect without it.

raleigh’s hands wrapped around her thighs to lift her onto the counter and he smirked against her lips as cadence gasped into his mouth as soon as he set her down effortlessly, pushing in between her spread legs.

despite her surprise, she leaned over immediately to accommodate the few extra inches of height she now had, pulling on his hair to crane his neck back for the best angle to kiss him.

raleigh took advantage of the movement to slide his hands up her legs to the waistband of her leggings, wriggling them down to her knees. cadence jerked back in surprise as soon as he pulled away from their kiss, like she hadn’t expected him to get her undressed so swiftly.

he smirked at her. cute.

in retaliation, she tugged on his hair, though it hardly had the effect she was probably intending; he tilted into her hands with a sound that was half acknowledgment, half encouragement, grin spreading when she pulled again, harder.

“you’re unbelievable,” cadence laughed from above him, followed by his favorite sound in the world: an impatient, exasperated groan of his name, from between her perfect lips. “raleigh.”

“i’m going,” he promised, though his lips landed somewhere near her knee and took their time sliding up the inside of her thigh while his right hand crept higher and higher on cadence’s opposite leg, until he could finally hook his index finger around her thong and tug it to the side.

“you’d better be.” it would probably never stop being cute, how she tried to threaten him with that shaky, wanting voice, and he grinned against the soft skin of her inner thigh as his kisses moved slowly upwards, his fingertips finally pushing between her legs just so he could hear her voice change, cadence’s words breaking into a loud, beautiful moan.

her old apartment was smack-dab in the middle of the building, surrounded by neighbors on every side. the day he finally got to move her into his penthouse she damn near lost her voice from screaming, and fiona had been pissed at him, but it had been so worth it. now, more than a year later, the sight of her things mixed in with his still made him so happy his chest got uncomfortably tight, so that he often found himself staring at their toothbrushes like a weirdo in the mornings when he was meant to be getting ready, taking up too much time in the bathroom.

“raleigh,” cadence sighed again, shifting around on the counter. “please.”

well -- it was christmas eve. he could probably afford to be generous, just once.

holding her thighs open with his free hand, he lowered his head and licked slowly across her center, right through where she was already so wet for him. cadence sighed as his tongue pointed, spreading her legs wider to sling one over his shoulder.

part of him wanted to draw it out -- wind her up as much as possible and keep her on edge for as long as he dared.

but the other part of him was stuck fixedly on the image of cadence making coquito for him, twice, in both blenders, biting nervously on her bottom lip as she scanned the wikipedia entry for it.

abandoning all thoughts of teasing, raleigh wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, desperate to bring her to an edge. the sounds she was making above him only encouraged raleigh to redouble his efforts, every last ounce of his attention hyper-focused on making her feel as good as possible -- something they couldn’t do in the middle of the kitchen on christmas eve any other year but this one. something that was supposed to be special for her today, as a thank-you for always being so thoughtful, for never failing to keep him top-of-mind in the most unselfish way she knew, something no one else before her had ever managed to achieve.

her moan pitched high when his fingers twisted just right between her legs, covering the borderline obscene sound of her hips rocking down onto his face. there were few things he loved more than seeing cadence like this, bare and wild, all parts of the manicured, calculated facade she wore for her fans and the media stripped away under his touch. that was what he’d fallen in love with -- all the ways she was raw and real and shocked the hell out of him with how much she’d been able to make him feel, for the first time in years.

when she shook apart above him, he held her steady, fingertips digging into her thighs to keep her still as she melted onto the countertop with another loud groan of his name, a sound that never failed to rush straight to his dick and make his head swim at the same time. he stared at her as she worked her way through it, trembling hard enough to rattle the dishes in the sink before finally letting one last heavy exhale escape.

then he finally pulled his head back, licked his lips and smiled at her. cadence groaned again, screwing her eyes shut tight. she pushed his face away without any real force. “ugh.”

“totally,” he agreed, planting his palms on the counter and pushing up to try to lean over her, frowning at the disadvantage he was at with her seated above him. raleigh only had a moment to pout before she pushed her hair out of her face and fell forward against his chest with a soft pleading sound, curling up into his open and waiting arms.

they stood there silently for a minute with him rubbing her back and her nuzzling his shirt collar, breathing slowly in and out. finally, she said, “i’m so glad we’re here together. alone.”

“me too, baby,” raleigh returned, fingertips dragging gently up and down her spine through her t-shirt. “thanks for making me coquito. that was really thoughtful.”

“it was nothing,” she murmured into his collarbone, lips mouthing the shape of each word and making him shiver, “i’m just glad you liked it.”

“it was perfect,” he argued, trying to stop his thoughts from drifting too far. unfortunately, the best thing to ever happen to him was wrapped half around his waist with her pants off, and he could still taste her pussy when he licked his lips, so -- the effort was pretty much futile. still, it’d be impossible to ignore what an ideal christmas it was shaping up to be, if the last hour or so was anything to go by. and he couldn’t wait to see how she’d react to what he had planned for the rest of their holiday break, all the way through new year’s day.

pulling back to smack a kiss that was meant to be obnoxious but mostly just read as loving onto her forehead, he earnestly amended, “you’re perfect,” gratified by the laughter his girlfriend gave before he’d even finished saying the words.

#raleigh carrera #platinum #raleigh carrera x mc #cadence dorian #raleigh x mc #raleigh x cadence #myfic #long post #ns*w #thanks for sending this queen !! i hope you like it and happy holidays 💕💕

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universe-n-3276 · 4 years ago

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Carrying the Moon

Epilogue

He shouldn’t have been there. He knew that if someone found him on the school’s rooftop, he would immediately be lectured by the headmaster, who obviously would call his parents, and he could already imagine the concerned look on his father’s face. Whenever he did something stupid, that man always had the same look painted on his face, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. But the boy couldn’t help it. He needed it. When he felt things overwhelming him (it often happened during the lunch break), he needed to feel the comfort that arose from watching his schoolmates from above, small as ants, move around frenetically.

On the roof of the school, alone, the noises and people around him were far away. The air was fresh, and the perspective changed completely. Three months earlier, during his last exams of the semester, he had begun to feel different. Everything he felt was amplified. He was full of energy and able to do anything. He had been awake, night after night, writing, planning, drawing. During the day, as he answered all the quiz, he felt confident, he knew everything, then the verdicts came. He had failed all his tests and in his mind, his teachers were trying to set him up, they wanted him to fail. He had fought furiously with his parents, and it was weird because he was used to talking with them, and not screaming his lungs out, but he was only a sixteen-year-old, and teenagers usually argue a lot with their parents, right?

Then during the Christmas break, he had started to spend whole days locked in his room, until he no longer wanted to go out or get out of bed, and after that moment there were only doctors, pills, and worried looks. He hated feeling that way, he hated not being able to control it. He felt as if an alien had moved into his brain and had taken control over it. He just wanted to feel like before, he wanted to go back to being the happy and carefree person he had always been. The boy heard the door open behind him and turned quickly, hoping he hadn’t been caught, but he immediately recognized a familiar face and raised a hand in greeting, allowing himself to smile a bit. He wanted to be left alone, but he liked Eva’s company. The girl had auburn, straight hair, very fair skin, covered with freckles, and blue eyes, identical to her father’s.

“Hero David Driesen-IJzermans, you’re so weird.” “I did nothing.” “School is supposed to help you develop your social skills, you know? And you spend your time here alone.” “I'm not feeling well.” Eva's lively gaze softened. He walked over to Hero and placed a hand on his back, moving it in a circular motion, to try to give him relief. “You should call your fathers.” “I called Charlotte. My dad is busy at work and my papa has always a stupid worried look on his face when something happens, and I don't wanna see it.” The girl nodded, and was silent for a few moments, staring down at the schoolyard full of their classmates enjoying their free-time. “Have you told Camille you're hiding here?” “No. I broke up with them.” “Why?” “We weren't right for each other.” Hero bit his lip. Breaking up with Camille had been difficult. He had thought about it for a long time, not knowing if it was the right decision if it was really what he wanted or that sense of impatience was just a side symptom of the disease. “You know, since our parents have these great stories about being with their soulmates since they were teenagers, I always feel under pressure. What if I won’t find that ineffable love?” “They always say when you know, you know, so don't worry too much about it.” The boy gave Eva a small smile as he retrieved his ringing phone from the pocket. He looked at the screen, picking up his backpack from the ground and put it on his shoulder, happy to finally get out of that school that made him feel caged. “I gotta go now, Charlotte is here. Bye Ev.” “Bye, weirdo.”

Hero didn’t remember the exact moment when he was told that Charlotte was his biological mother. It was as if he had always known, and it had never been strange. He had seen movies where the main characters discovered as teenagers that they had been adopted, and were traumatized by the idea that those who they had always believed their parents were strangers. He just couldn't put himself in those people's shoes, because he was convinced that a family went far beyond the DNA and that all the love and the affection he had received from his parents since childhood, were what would tie them together for the rest of their life. Charlotte had given him life, but only with his fathers, he felt safe. However, Hero knew, he was lucky to know who his mother was. To be able to talk to and see her every day. He knew his story, and he didn't have a thousand question marks floating in his head when he thought about who he was, or where he came from. He knew why Charlotte had decided to let him be adopted, and he knew, it wasn’t his fault. Since he had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder three months earlier, he understood her choice even better. Sometimes he had talked to Eva about the fact that they had both been adopted, but the affinities of their stories ended there. She didn't know anything about her biological parents, she didn't know her story and this made her suffer, even though she was grateful for the love, she had received from Jens and Lucas since she was a child. Eva had lived in a foster home until she was adopted by the two boys at the age of five, and because of this, she still had memories of when she felt abandoned and alone in the world. Hero had never felt the same way. He had always had two parents, an aunt, two uncles, four grandparents, and eventually, a sister. There was no space to feel alone. When he came out of school, he saw Charlotte waiting for him and smiled at her, walking in her direction. When they were in front of each other, she promptly squeezed him in a hug, and Hero immediately felt some of the tension vanish. He was sixteen and most of his friends shunned their family, trying to spend a lot of time away from home among their peers. But since he had his first episode, he felt comfortable only with his family. He knew, he could finally let his guard down because they would take care of everything. “Thanks for picking me up, Aunt Charlotte.” “Anytime, baby. Let's grab some hot chocolate, okay?” Hero nodded slowly, following Charlotte who had started walking. He had heard so many stories about her. When she was young, his aunt was the life of the party, ready to joke around. She hadn't changed much over the years. Charlotte was a funny person and always had a smile on her face. She lived with her girlfriend Ellie in a house by the river. They had no children, but Hero knew they were both very happy with their busy lives. When they sat facing each other in the cafeteria, waiting for their order, Charlotte looked Hero in the eye, and the boy suddenly felt exposed, as if there was no way could he have lied without the other noticing. “How are you feeling?” “I felt a bit overwhelmed at school, but now I'm fine.” “It was the same for me, but I pushed myself so hard all the time, just to fit in, that after some time it almost felt normal.” “Should I do that too?” Maybe Charlotte had the answer to all of his problems. Perhaps following her footsteps would lead him to regain his lost normality. So when Hero asked that question, his tone came out far more hopeful than he wanted. The woman looked at him sweetly and reached out to stroke his cheek. “No, baby. I know how it feels like you have no control over your mind or your body, but it’s not like that. It’s like learning to drive a new car: everything is new at first and you are scared but eventually, you’ll get used to it.” “So I'll be able to control this thing, eventually?” “Not really, but you will know how to deal with it, and also, all the people around you will know what to do to help you.” Hero sighed, looking down. He felt trapped in a tunnel with no exit. “It's frustrating.” “Yeah. But if you go to therapy and take your meds, it will be fine. You’ll know when something is coming. Everyone has symptoms. But don't worry, okay? We’re all here for you. We're gonna get through this. I promised.” “Thanks, Aunt Charlotte.” -

After spending a few hours with Charlotte to clear his mind, Hero had made a decision. He knew, he had to talk about it with his parents first, and this made him a little anxious, but he was sure that talking about it with his dad would help him more in deciding what to do. Hero was very attached to his dad, and unlike many teenagers, he felt free to talk to him about everything, without ever being judged. While he was waiting for the elevator, he closed his eyes and suddenly felt all the tiredness envelop his limbs. It was a weird sensation for the middle of the day. He had always been a boy who liked people, and yet the disease made social interactions physically exhausting. After half a day with his schoolmates and teachers, he just needed to rest. Going home and doing homework in those conditions was complicated. He couldn’t focus. The only thing he wanted to do was simply lie down to recover some of the energy lost during the day. Even before the elevator doors opened, Hero could hear the voices of his uncles. They were bickering as usual, and he couldn’t help but smile. Jens and Lucas have always been two of his favorite people in the world. Thanks to them he had learned to skate as a child, even though he often found himself in the midst of their deathly competitions to decide which one of them was more skilled on the board. “This damn stroller. Why you had to pick this monstrosity, uh?” “It was the safest one, Jens.” “It's bigger than our car and we barely fit in the elevator.” When the doors opened, they revealed the two men comically squeezed in a corner, to make

room for what was truly the largest stroller Hero had ever seen. Inside that gigantic thing, there was Lilith, a little girl of just six months, with thick raven hair and big chestnut eyes. “Hey, kid!” Jens was the first to notice Hero, and as soon as he managed to get out of the elevator, he gave him a high-five. Lucas took the stroller out and joined them. “Are you okay, baby? You look tired.” Lucas could spot the tiniest detail of one’s face, and Hero knew this very well. There were rare times in which he had managed to get away from his uncle’s gaze, and in fact, Eva had also stopped trying to hide anything from him. “And you should still be at school, right?” Hero still hated to talk about his illness, and it was wrong, especially because they were his uncles who had known him forever and knew exactly what he was going through. Lucas and Jens had been close to Charlotte when she was struggling. It should have been easier to say I felt a little overwhelmed today, so Charlotte picked me up and I just wanna rest even though it's only two in the afternoon. But he still couldn't, so he just shrugged, hoping the two would understand. Lucas stroked his cheek, giving him a look full of affection. “It's gonna be fine, Hero. And we are all here for you, okay?” “Yes, if you need anything, just call us, or come upstairs. Our door is always open for you.” Hero smiled, extremely grateful for the safety-net around him. He was surrounded by people who cared so much about him. They would never leave him alone, even in their darkest moments. He thanked his uncles and waved them goodbye, doing the same with little Lilith who had watched the whole scene from her huge stroller. - When he walked into his house, he immediately heard music coming from his papa's studio. Since Bowie, his sister, was born, Sander had decided to focus on her and work more from home. His sister was a little brat, and the fact that Sander spoiled her didn't make things better. The two spent hours playing with paint and soiling clean clothes and furniture with it. Hero had never been particularly talented with pencils and brushes, and perhaps for that reason, he believed in his heart that his papa preferred to spend more time with Bowie. He couldn't help but be a little jealous of their relationship, and of how Sander was able to show affection to the little girl. The boy knew, he was also deeply loved by his papa, but lately, there was something off between them. He knocked on the open door of his father's studio to get his attention, and the man looked up, giving his son a warm smile. “Hey, you're back early!” “Yeah, I didn't feel good and I asked Charlotte to pick me up.” “You could have asked me.” Hero shrugged, avoiding Sander's gaze. He hated to see the disappointment on his face, but his papa couldn't understand what he was going through. Charlotte, on the other hand, could. “How are you feeling now?” “Tired. I think I'm gonna get some rest.” “If you need anything, I'm right here.” Hero nodded, giving his father a small smile. As he made his way to his room, his sister darted past him laughing, without even saying hello and he frowned, thinking she was the strangest girl in the world. When he entered his room, he quickly walked over to the desk. He took off his backpack, placing it on the floor, and got rid of the sweatshirt he was wearing, already anticipating the moment when his body would finally touch the bed. He turned, but his expression changed immediately when he saw a huge stain of red paint standing out on his favorite blanket. Hero reconnected the dots. It wasn’t a hard task, after all. “BOWIE. I SWEAR TO GOD. I HATE YOU SO MUCH.” He closed his eyes and tried to regain control of himself, trying to breathe normally through his nose, while thinking he had to move quickly before the paint would run through the blanket, ruining the sheets and mattress. “What happened?” Sander appeared from the door with a frown on his face, followed by Bowie that was hiding behind his legs. Hero looked at them both, furiously, while a thousand thoughts were crowding his mind. He wanted to keep screaming all his anger, but he didn't. Instead, he started to roll up the blanket, being careful not to spill the paint around. “Your favorite child made a mess.” “Hero, what are you talking about? I don't have a favorite child. You two and your dad are my favorite people in the world.” The boy didn’t argue. He kept undoing his bed to the mattress, in silence. When he noticed that his father was doing nothing to leave him alone in his bedroom, he decided to speak up. “Where's dad? I wanna talk to him.” “He's still at work.” Hero was tired and angry, and in moments like that, it was like his emotions were exploding inside of him uncontrollably. He hated feeling that way as if everything he had inside was about to get out of his hand at any moment. Despite fighting against it for most of the time, sometimes he couldn’t help but let go. He looked at his papa's face and clenched his jaw when the other's eyes held his gaze with the same intensity as if they were a mirror of his own. The boy wanted to say everything he had been holding inside for months, all the thoughts that were hurting him. The things that kept him awake at night. Why don't you love me as much as you love Bowie? Why don't you ever want to spend time with me? It's because she is really your daughter and I’m just... He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away, suddenly feeling too fragile to be able to withstand such a fight. Once again he had been betrayed by himself. “I don't get why he's always at work, while you are here.” “You're being rude, and you know I work here so I can be with you and your sister.” “Yeah, with my sister, of course. Whatever, I want dad now.” “Hero, you can also talk to me.” “I need to throw these things in the washer.” “Okay. Let me help you.” - Later that evening, he was hiding in his room, tucked under clean blankets, with the light on, because he wanted to avoid, in every way, turning his bad mood into something worse. Hero heard a knock on his door. When he turned to look at his visitor, he was delighted to see his dad's face. He sighed in relief and sat up against the headboard. The boy was happy to finally see him. He had needed his presence since he left for school that morning. “Hey, baby.” “Hi, dad.” “How's your day?” Robbe sat down on the bed, hugging him tightly, making that annoying lump in his throat reappear, and his eyes becoming instantly watery. They released their embrace and Hero shook his head, trying not to look his dad. Robbe sighed, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. “Hero, what’s going on? Papa told me what happened.” “Snitch.” “He's worried about you. He loves you as much as I do, you know that.” “But he loves Bowie more because she’s your biological daughter.” “Baby, what are you talking about? You can't be serious!” Hero shrugged. Saying that sentence out loud was all he had been trying to do for weeks, but now it was like finding himself suddenly naked, in front of a crowd that was staring at him. He couldn't add anything else or speak up, because, yes, he was serious, but when he felt his dad's arms wrap him in a hug, he felt a little less stupid. “You can't even imagine what your papa did for you when we were young. He gave up everything for you. His relationship with me and with his sister. He was ready to drop out of uni, just to find a job and take care of you.” “I didn’t want to be rude to him. I was just pissed because Bowie made a mess in my room while he was supposed to watch her.” “He can get lost in his work sometimes.” “And I also don't know how to talk to him. With you, it's easier.” “We can call him and you can try to talk with both of us.” “Fine.” When Sander walked through the door, following Robbe and holding his hand, he had his usual worried expression painted on his face. He sat on Hero's bed, and Robbe did the same, on the other side of it. Hero, somehow, felt calmer, safer, there sat between his fathers. “Sorry about earlier, papa.” “It's okay, don't worry.” Like a suspicious cat that suddenly jumps in your lap, Hero approached his papa, leaning his back against the man’s chest, and Sander began to card his fingers through his son's hair, looping his waist with the other arm. Hero closed his eyes, relaxing. He realized that the distance he had felt between him and his papa was probably yet another trick of his mind and that for all that time, it would be enough for him to reach out, and bring down the walls that he had created. “I think I should drop out of school. I’m overwhelmed all the time and it’s really hard for me to focus. When I get home I’m too tired to do my homework. I feel like I'm failing at everything and it gives me anxiety.” There was a long moment of silence in which Robbe and Sander looked into each other's eyes, and Hero was sure that somehow, after years of marriage, the two had discovered a way to talk telepathically, because he had seen them do that so many times. “Your mental health is our priority.” “Definitely, and we understand that you need your time to adjust to your illness, to understand how to live your life with it.” “Thanks.” “But, maybe we can consider other options, you know?” “Like what?” "Homeschooling, for example." It wasn't a bad idea. That way he would adjust his schedule according to how he felt. “It's a good idea, but I don't know if I can start something new right now.” “It's okay, baby. We can take it day by day.” “And if it gets too much, we can also take it minute by minute.” Hero turned his face to look his papa in the eye, and smile gratefully at him. He liked the idea of not having to think about the future and being able to focus only on the present. It made him feel grounded and for the first time in weeks, his mind wasn't drifting. Robbe held Hero in his arm, kissing his forehead, while Sander hugged them both as they did when he was still a little kid. “My baby boy.” “Our baby boy, Robbe.” “Yes, our baby boy.” Maybe Hero would always be a fish out of water among his peers, because of his illness or because it was just what he had always been. Having been loved so deeply since he was born, had led him to be free of being himself because his parents had always pushed him to express his personality and not to apologize for who he was. Reality hit him very hard when he found out that people usually prefer predictability and labels. The world doesn't like unpredictable things. Hero loved to live his little utopia, in the arms of his parents, in which he was free to be himself, with his illness, his moment of euphoria, and his depression. He was free to express his ideas, to love immeasurably, to cry, to feel sad or happy. In his little utopia, he felt safe and knew that if he fell, someone would always be ready to catch him. At that moment Hero knew that, although he’d always carry the moon inside of him, thanks to the love surrounding him, eventually, the sun would shine again.

[previous]

#wtfock #wtfam #carrying the moon #epilogue #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #van der stoffels #drijzermans #sobbe

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cinemorg · 4 years ago

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Cinemorg Holiday Special: Jingle Jangle (2020); Happiest Season (2020)

I watched two new Christmas movies this year. They’re both bad but one is good-bad and the other is bad-bad. Let’s take a look!

One of the things you have to know about making a Christmas movie is that more than anything, during the holidays people are craving sincerity. It barely matters what you’re being sincere about, but you have to do it. Movies like Elf and The Muppet Christmas Carol succeed because even though they’re pure ridiculous fantasy, they leverage that absurdity to make something unique and charming (think of Mr. Narwhal, friend to all). Jingle Jangle is often a little too intense in this way, but it leans hard into its own nonsense and that was the right call. Forest Whitaker plays Jeronicus Jangle, the world’s greatest inventor (of toys, obviously), who has his most revolutionary invention, a sentient matador voiced by Ricky Martin, stolen along with all his secret inventor’s notes by his grandstanding apprentice, Gustafson (Keegan Michael-Key). Gustafson goes on to become a rich and famous “inventor” by stealing Jeronicus’s ideas, leaving Jeronicus a destitute, embittered pawn shop broker spending his days trying to fend off foreclosure of his dark, dusty workshop. There’s a cheerful, klutzy kid named Edison hanging around the workshop talking about magic and grinning all the time for no reason. He doesn’t seem to have any parents.

We learn that in the aftermath of the great notebook theft, Jeronicus lost his wife as well, and his ensuing depression cost him his relationship with his daughter, Jessica. After many years, Jessica sends her own daughter, Journey (Madalen Mills), to live with Jeronicus for a few weeks. It’s unclear to me why she thought this was a good idea, considering Jeronicus spends a while trying to deny that they’re even related, and only takes her in extremely reluctantly after finding out that she’s a mechanical genius. The rest of the story tells itself and there are no surprises, so I won’t go into too much more detail.

The main thing to note about Jingle Jangle is that at no time is there a reason for anything to be happening the way it’s happening. Jeronicus spends all that time rejecting Journey only for her to claim at the end of the movie that his workshop is the only place where she ever felt she belonged. At one point Jeronicus was an intensely beloved member of the community, but when we meet old Jeronicus, everyone who talks to him seems to be going out of their way to demean and disrespect the man, refusing to even call him by his real name despite his repeated requests to do so, and in the case of one very lonely postal worker outright sexually harassing him at every opportunity. The script is packed with fantasy-babble to enhance the magical feel that’s so bizarre it competes with even the most confusing word salad from any Star Trek or Star Wars film (”Belief collapses the sine wave!” “Is it possible that the square root of impossible is me?” “What’s the second derivative of sensational?”). Gustafson introduces one of his own inventions when he runs out of stolen ideas that is basically a flying, spinning eye-gouger, and which promptly hits someone in the face and explodes (”It’s frying my face!!”).

Jingle Jangle can honestly be a little overwhelming, but the songs are decent, the actors are charming (except for Edison, the little weirdo), and the absurdity of the first 90 minutes of the movie turns out to be necessary to prime the audience for the absolute unhinged insanity of the final 30 minutes. I can’t recommend it on the basis of its storytelling quality or character development, but if you’re one to enjoy completely surrendering to Christmas spirit, it’s worth watching for its multidimensional wow factor alone.

Happiest Season is...not this way.

I understand what it was going for, I think. The script is focused on the very real and very frightening experience of deciding when and how to reveal your queer sexuality to your family when you don’t know how they’ll react and you suspect that the reaction will be bad, perhaps even destroy your life. I’m sure there are a lot of people who will get something valuable out of it for that reason, just because that experience is so rarely depicted in a mainstream movie, but on the level of a romantic dramedy, it basically fails on every level.

The two lead actresses (Kristen Stewart and Mackenzie Davis as Abby and Harper, respectively) have no chemistry with each other whatsoever, which is only highlighted in contrast by the extremely good chemistry between Stewart and Aubrey Plaza, who plays Harper’s ex-girlfriend. Plaza and Dan Levy, who plays Abby’s friend, are the only two actors who exhibit any charisma at all throughout the entire film. Everyone else, including Mary Steenburgen and Alison Brie, who I usually like a lot, is working with a script that displays such a shallow understanding of social insecurities and neuroses that Harper’s entire family comes off as a bunch of cartoonish monsters (Harper’s sister, Jane (Mary Holland), is not a monster, though she is no less cartoonish). In fact, the movie seems to primarily be about Abby realizing that she’s in a relationship with a manipulative liar from a family of disgusting, dishonest people. Fortunately, after the inevitable big Christmas Eve family meltdown, they all learn how to be good people overnight. I’m sure anyone who’s experienced a lifetime of emotional abuse and toxic repression within their own family can relate!

There is a single solitary moment of humanity and warmth when Dan Levy’s character is describing his own coming-out experience as a way of encouraging Kristen Stewart to do something scary, but that’s it. I booed when Abby and Harper kissed at the end, even though that’s theoretically what I was supposed to want to happen. Not great!

Jingle Jangle gets 3 Jangleators out of 5 from me for its vigorous spirit.

Happiest Season gets 0 shadow dreamers out of 5. Offensively bad. Ho ho hopeless.

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ddp456 · 5 years ago

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A Little Lumberjane Christmas - A Gravity Falls Christmas Story/Poem (Re-post)

Hey, all! @ddp456 here, and due to the season, I wanted to re-share one of my favorite creations to spread some holiday cheer. I changed the format a bit, hopefully making it a bit more readable on Tumblr than the original versions here and here. Again, happy holidays, and please enjoy!

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Written by @ddp456 Illustrations by @codylabs Based on an idea by Wolf90

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It was Christmas Eve and time to deck the halls, in the podunk town called Gravity Falls. Weirdmageddon had pass, its horrors thankfully gone, bringing peace back to the sleepy state of Oregon.

Its natural weirdness seemed to had taken a pause, as the whole town awaited the arrival of ol' Santa Claus. Stockings were hung and trees were dressed really bright. From a distance, the whole town looked like a giant Christmas light.

Families were brought together, and friends would come and unite, proving enough Christmas cheer can make anything right. But one unfortunate soul didn't see things that way. She sat on a rooftop, watching nightfall rise up from the passing day. Who was this person, seemingly unaffected by Christmas joy? Why, it's the Lumberjack Princess, Wendy Corduroy!

Wendy hidden herself away at the top of the Mystery Shack, as the brutal winter winds blew away at her back. She didn't mind the cold, save for the tips of her boot-covered toes, and the feeling of frost nipping away at her stubby little nose. Wendy wanted a safe place to brood and mope and think, as she sipped from a thermos of hot cocoa, her favorite winter drink.

She had gotten out of her dad's apocalypse training by lying about work. She avoided Soos's Mystery Shack staff party by saying it wasn't her quirk. The rest of the town was swept away in the Christmas action, as McGucket threw a huge celebration in what was once the Northwest Mansion. Her friends Tambry, Lee, Nate, and Thompson begged her to come. Wendy refused. "No thanks. It sounds kinda dumb."

Even the Pines twins made their own attempt. An offered trip to Piedmont, California only added to Wendy's contempt. Wendy turned down their invitation, hoping Mabel and Dipper wouldn't shed a tear. "Sorry, guys. Maybe we'll see next year."

All Wendy wanted was to be left alone with her pain. Why did the world make it feel like she was insane? To her loved ones, she didn't want to seem like a grouch, but because of all the lies she told, Wendy couldn't even go back to her own couch.

Wendy's wandering mind instantly came to a halt, as she could hear crushed snow beneath a heavy foot fault. She sprang into action, her ninja-like moves were so slick. Wendy couldn't believe her eyes, "Holy crap! It's St. Nick!"

Santa Claus stood before Wendy in all his glory. The red outfit and fuzzy beard definitely matched the often-heard stories. Despite her older age, Wendy didn't doubt her own eyes. After all, this was Gravity Falls, where the weirdos loved to hide!

Wendy asked, "Santa, no offense, but what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be posing on soda cans with a cute polar bear? Don't you have, like, a zillion presents to give out today? I won't bother you. You can be on your way!"

Santa laughed. "You need not worry. My deeds with get their well due. But tonight, dearest Wendy, I've come to speak with you. It makes Santa sad to see you so blue. Your Christmas spirit I intend to renew. So, come join me this night. Give me a chance to help make things right. By Christmas Morn, I make this promise so true, your outlook on Christmas will gain a new view."

"Thanks for the invite, Santa." Wendy scoffed at the plan so bland. She sat back down in the snow, "But, yeah, a hard pass from me, my man."

With her back turned, Wendy was definitely out of range, to see "Jolly ol' St. Nick" undergo a sudden change. His famous smile faded into a frown turned amiss, as his opened, gloved hands turned into enraged fists.

"Young lady," Santa said without as much as raising his voice. "I'm afraid you don't understand. I'm not giving you a choice."

"WHA – "

Before she knew it, Wendy was tackled to the ground, She punched, scratched, and kicked, but in the end, was helplessly bound. Left in a hogtie, Wendy could only look around, the identity of her attackers made her let out a disgusted sound. "The gnomes from the woods?! This can't be right! Why are you bugging me on Christmas Eve night? And what's the deal with the elf uniforms? What's your beef? I thought you reformed?"

Jeff the gnome stepped up, since the other gnomes weren't very social. "Sorry, kid. It's just business. I swear this isn't personal. We gnomes need extra scratch for these long winter seasons, and the big man likes to outsource. Need there be a better reason?"

"HO HO HO! Well done, my boys!" Santa heaved with huge amounts of joy. "Please place Miss Corduroy in my big sack of toys! For a job well done, expect a little extra in your checks. Consider it a gracious extension of my respect."

The gnomes cheered as they started to drag Wendy away. Their redheaded captive did everything she could to stay. She pulled and tugged and screamed with all of her might, but the ropes holding her were simply way too tight.

"You can't do this to me!" Wendy yelled. "I have rights! What's the matter, Santa? Too scared to fight your own fights? You know against me, you'd have no such luck! For the last time, let me go, ya fat fu – MMPH!"

The angry ginger's potty mouth was hurting the simple gnomes' brains, so they decided to gag her with a candy cane. From her lips, Wendy couldn't get the sticky treat to waver. The only positive in all this was that it was mint-flavored.

They tossed Wendy into the oversized bag, usually filled with cheer. She let out a muffled cry, landing hard on her derriere. The sack's top was then tied off, robbing Wendy of all light, as Santa and prisoner sailed away well into the night.

Hours felt like seconds until the sack's top was undone. Wendy sprang up from the bag. This was her chance to run! Her ropes and candy cane gag had disappeared. The road in front of her had been perfectly cleared. Before Wendy could take one step, a sturdy hand clamped onto her shoulder. She turned to find Santa, about two seconds away from scolding her.

"Welcome, Wendy," he greeted, "to my humble abode. I wouldn't bother fleeing, for there's nowhere to go. We're at the North Pole, far away from civilization. This is my workshop. Call it my own private nation. Your cell phone won't work. All internet access is password-protected. My best advice is for you to do what you're directed. Now, join me, won't you? The next room is pretty fine. I really want you to see my toy assembly line."

Wendy sighed. There wasn't anything she could do. What if Santa's words were absolutely true? The best course of action was to play along with the part, and trick the geezer that she had a change of heart. The two walked down and across a large loading bay while Santa's nine reindeer happily ate their servings of hay.

Santa led Wendy to the toy assembly line, when the annoyed teen let out a whine. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm telling you, I can't stay. Can't you just leave coal in my stocking, and send me on my way?"

"HO-HO-HO!" Santa chuckled. "Why, Wendy, you're such a kidder! You can't lie to Santa. I must insist you reconsider. I know alone in the dead of winter is what you'd prefer. But in this case, I really cannot concur. There are reasons to my seemingly harsh way. I promise you'll reflect fondly on it one day.

Wendy crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. "I really doubt that, you kidnapping pile of cow dung!"

Santa beaded his eyes, as he tried to stay reserved. "Maybe it's time to get what you deserve. With that negative attitude of yours – and your bad behavior. Santa's got the way to curb that. How about some hard labor?!"

With a hard push, Wendy nearly crashed into the conveyor belt. She looked around to see the hand she'd been dealt. An army of elves stood neatly in line, they slaved and worked tirelessly to finish their projects in time. An endless supply of toys, games, and electronics flew by at frenzied rates, to order to reach children in every country, province, and state.

"Whoa!" Wendy noticed. "Those aren't the gnomes. These elves are real!" "Of course they are," Santa prided. "Back home, this job needs the real deal! Who else could deliver such gifts with speed and joy? They pull out all the stops so each child gets a toy. These wondrous folks are able to look past their own wants and needs, to bring Christmas cheer by doing good deeds. Such is the lesson I expect you to learn tonight. So, jump right in and help, and please don't put up a fight!"

Wendy stepped up to the belt, finding that she was way too tall. "Hey, how can I help? These tools were made for someone super small!"

"Hmm…" Santa stroked his beard. "By George, you're right! Why didn't I see it before?" The old man snapped his fingers. "There! Now, you can easily do your chore!"

With a blink of her eye, Wendy had shrunk by half. She was horrified to see that she barely reached Santa's calf. Her lumberjack outfit and thick winter coat, were now a dorky, striped one piece, and curled shoes that looked like boats. Dipper's pine-tree cap became a cute matching hat with bell tips. Her long copper hair turned pigtails made her lose her grip.

"AHH!" Wendy shrieked as she felt her now-pointed ears. "Change me back!" She demanded. "Don't think I can't kick your chunky rear!"

Santa used one hand to hold back the pint-sized, fist-swinging threat. "Oh, give it up, kid. Just look at me! I'm not even breaking a sweat! All this protesting is really getting you nowhere. Help the elves with the toys, and I'll think about changing you back. I swear. Only when your Christmas spirit is revived, will you be allowed to go home. I'll leave you be now. Santa's got better things to do than listen to you drone."

Santa took his leave, when he stopped after a few paces. "I hate to do this to you, but to be honest, I'm really too old for chases." He snapped his fingers once more, the room echoed with a click. Wendy looked down, "What's this? Another one of your tricks?"

A metal tether was placed around her ankle, meant to hold her in place. Wendy couldn't run away or jump. She could barely walk around or pace. "You think you got me, old man?" Wendy bragged. "I'll be outta here super-quick." She reached under her hat, "As soon as I find my lock – "

"Looking for these?"

Santa flashed a grin, displaying Wendy's trusty lockpicks in his hand. "That's right, kiddo. Santa knows all your secrets. That's why he's the man!" Wendy was left speechless as her captor soon disappeared from sight. She pulled on her chain with all her might. The freckled elf tugged and yanked and fought against the shackle, but every escape attempt resulted in a painful ankle tackle.

Now faced with no other choice, Wendy turned around to accept her fate. She grabbed a toy off the assembly line and followed alongside with her elven mates. But after a few minutes, Wendy found the task to be a bore. She elbowed the nearest working elf neighbor, "So, what are you in for?"

The tiny elf stared at Wendy in a confused state. "I don't think you understand. We elves choose our own fate. We each have free will. Santa doesn't force us to stay. All of us volunteer here. We don't even ask for any pay!"

Wendy looked around at the other elves workers walking around scot-free. She was the only one chained down to the heavy machinery.

"Then, I don't get it." Wendy asked. "Why do you do all this?" The elf replied, "Because the end result is truly pure bliss. Seeing the happy, smiling faces of the grateful girls and boys, it's what powers our great quest. It brings us great joy!"

Wendy grew more curious. "But how can you see all of these things? There's too many to see and they're so far away. Are you just pulling my strings?"

"Watch…"

Wendy grew silent as from the assembly wall came something new. From a small crack, some kind of electrical portal grew. The portal shifted from different planes into a whole new world. Before Wendy's emerald eyes, did the elf's story unfurled.

A little girl knelt on the side of her bed, praying to the powers that be to watch over her loved ones' heads.

"That's little Clara," introduced Wendy's new friend. "She volunteers to take care of her grandma, helping around the house to no end. Even though her family has little money for presents, she gives them little grief. For this, we're giving her a special dollie to provide her some well-needed relief."

A new item flew down the conveyor belt at rocket speeds. Dozens of elven hands rushed to give it the details it needs. A blonde, huggable doll was the final result. Its design was truly perfect. There wasn't anything possible to insult. It flew off the line and into Santa's bag in an almost magical way, and soon, into Clara's awaiting arms on Christmas Day.

"I have to admit," Wendy's mood began to lighten. "That was really neat." She no longer felt like fighting.

"Then, why don't you give it a shot," the elf did suggest. "You're part elf now. You can do it. Try your best!"

Wendy began to picture a child in need, someone who was indeed worthy of the elves' creed. She opened her eyes and gasped aloud, as Wendy was soon presented with her very own cloud. The other elves murmured and gathered around, to see what child Wendy's mind had found.

The image became clear, displaying a teenage boy in punk clothing. His hair was blue. His jeans were torn and holey. But man, was his attitude loathing. The teen was with his mother, doing some late holiday shopping. But to Wendy's shock, she could make out some swears dropping. "No, Mom, you moron! What were you thinking? Are you always this dumb, or have you been possibly drinking? I said I wanted Super Linguini Bros. 3, not Part 2! Man, I honestly can't believe I'm related to you!"

As the image in the portal faded away, Wendy's blood boiled, perhaps more than anytime that day. The boy's expected present had appeared before her, half-finished. But her budding Christmas spirit had been quickly diminished. She picked up the video game machine, and threw it over her shoulder. Wendy let out a chuckle as her insight became ever bolder. All of the elves were shocked and frozen in pause, as the now-wrecked toy landed at the feet of Santa Claus.

Wendy spun around in horror. She knew an apology would be way too late. This latest outburst would surely seal her fate.

Instead, he approached Wendy without a sign of anger and rage. Santa rubbed his bearded chin, knowing he had to take from another page. "Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way. We need to go inside to find why you despise Christmas Day."

He stepped up to Wendy, who was still stuck in place, and placed his black glove over her freckled face.

"What are you doing?" She tried to pull away. "Stop being a creep! Get your stinking hand off me! I can't see a peep!"

Santa removed his hand, and Wendy was now filled with a sense of dread. She had been warped to a dark room with a yellow light hanging ahead. "Hello?" Wendy called out, no longer shackled. "Is anyone there?" "Sorry!" A new voice answered. "I'm on my way. I had to finish my hair!"

A purple and pink glow invaded the darkened space. Wendy entered a fighting stance, just in case. The small ball became a pixie, straight out of a fable. "Weird." Wendy noted. "You kinda look like my friend, Mabel."

The brunette fairy gave off a familiar smile, "Hey, there! Welcome! I hope you stay awhile. Beyond this point, lie the doors three. They represent Christmas Past, Present, and Future. Yippee! Each door will take you to a different point in time on Christmas Day. By journey's end, we'll learn the real reason of why you feel this way."

Wendy shrugged, "It isn't like I have any choice." The pixie agreed and waved, "No, not really. Just follow my voice! If you need anything, I'll be your busy bee! All you need to do is shout, "Hey, Christmas Fairy!""

The fairy led Wendy to the door labelled, "Christmas Past." She opened the door, "Come on! This will be a blast!" Wendy was reluctant, but did what the sprite asked. The redhead couldn't believe it! She was now ten years in the past!

They stood in a better version of the Corduroy household, one that hadn't been yet damaged by Manly Dan's tantrums left uncontrolled. In the farthest corner of a somewhat messy kitchen, a super-tall, redheaded woman baked cookies as her pigtailed daughter pitched-in. The child was covered in white flour from head and toe, and her chubby, little fingers were caked in sticky dough. But the deed was finally done. Into the oven, the cookies went in. The mother tightly hugged her baby, looking over her proudly with a grin. "I'm so proud of you, my little one. You perfectly made my recipe: Chocolate-frosted Christmas trees with just a pinch of sesame. One day, you'll be able to do it alone. Maybe to impress some lucky boy, or when you have a family of your own, my dearest Wendy Corduroy."

The little girl held her mother even tighter, her hidden anxiety and social fears became a tad bit lighter.

"Mama…"

The Christmas Fairy watched the heartwarming scene with glee. "How adorable!" She turned around, finding something unexpectedly. Wendy had turned away from the memory, as she hugged her own shoulders. "Can we get out of here, please? This all is getting older and older."

The pixie sighed, as she waved the memory away. "Maybe we can find something even better here in present day." Wendy followed the fairy to the next Christmas door, "Are we almost done? I'm not gonna lie. This is becoming a chore."

The fairy reached the large door, marked with label, "Present," so that Wendy could bear witness to ongoing Christmas events. This time, she was presented with not one window, or two, but three! On her left side, Wendy could make out a familiar, half-broken Christmas tree. The Gift Shop of the Mystery Shack was decorated with green and red. A nearby buffet table held quite an awesome spread!

The new Mr. Mystery, Soos, stood at the counter with elbows resting. His saddened face was downright depressing. Melody, his girlfriend and partner at the Mystery Shack, suddenly snuck behind him and gave him a hug-attack. "Hey, why so glum, big guy?" she wondered. "Gee, Melody." Soos lamented. "This party was nothing but a blunder. Everybody went to that McGucket shindig instead. With the way things are going, maybe I should have stayed in bed. Even Wendy, who works here, couldn't even bother to attend, Let's face it, this idea was nothing but a dead end."

Melody lowered her head against Soos's shoulder fat, "Oh, don't be silly. Just you forget about that! They can have their stupid party. Let them be. We'll have our own little Christmas; just you and me! And don't mind Wendy. You know she doesn't mean to hurt you. Besides, with us alone, we can make our Christmas a bit more "blue.""

The couple's lips met as they shared a Christmas kiss, though Wendy turned her head and quickly dismissed. "Okay! Moving on!" She fled the scene with swift feet, though she secretly thought the moment was sorta sweet.

The middle window allowed Wendy to view the snow-covered woods, as four burly soldiers followed a path, their heads covered in hoods. Wendy easily recognized those running around in the dead of winter making noise, It was her father, Manly Dan, and her brothers, the Corduroy boys!

Marcus, Kevin, and Gus followed along with dear old Dad, "Keep going!" Dan barked. "Onwards, my beefy lads! Those monsters this summer were only the beginning! We'll practice and train day and night to make sure we keep winning!"

The youngest boy, Gus, started to complain, "How'd Wendy get out of this? She's totally to blame! She said she couldn't come because of work? Yeah, right! She's full of it! What a jerk!"

It was then when Manly Dan came to a stop. The boys crashed into his mighty form, and dropped. He stuck a finger in his smallest son's face. "You watch your tongue, boy! Don't be a disgrace!" That girl beat the odds and surprised us all, She helped saved this town from its ultimate downfall. Wendy's proven herself to me. My stone-cold heart she had won, I only wish she was here to show you boys how to get the job done! But my girl's not here, so us four will have to do. We'll work together on this blessed day to show the world that Corduroys rule!"

The boys rallied around their father's battle cry, and Wendy watched them march without batting an eye. "Don't think I'm not touched by Dad's words. I hate to betray his trust. I just wanted to get out of apocalypse training without a fuss. Living through Weirdmageddon was more than enough for me. After that mess, couldn't we relax and let things be?"

Wendy's attention was drawn by the window on the right. Every part of the Northwest Mansion was bathed in glorious light. Its new owner, Fiddleford McGucket, had really turned things around. To properly celebrate, he threw a Christmas party for the whole town! Mingles of classes, both rich and poor, engaged with each other without signs of bore. Gathered at a distant table were a collection of Wendy's chums, Thompson, Tambry, Nate, Lee, and even Robbie V., that gothic bum. They sat bored out of their minds, their attention spans were wearing thin, without their fearless leader to swoop in for the win. The plucky cashier's mischievous mind usually created their favorite dares, games, and pranks, and now without her around, the mellow atmosphere really did stank! Surprisingly enough, Thompson threw his fist down! "Why are we just sitting here? Sure, Wendy's not around, but would she want us to sit around and pout? No way! She'd tell us to get off our butts, no doubt! C'mon, guys. Let's make our Wendy proud! We'll cause a little mayhem and make this party loud! He lifted his half-drank cup of punch into the air, as the rest of the teens joined in with the cheer:

"For Wendy!"

Wendy backed away from the third open portal, "I'm not really sure if I get this moral. Sure, all three present views have people that miss me, but their Christmases seemed to be better if I left things be."

The pixie bobbed her head, "Oh, Wendy. Try looking at this way instead. All of these groups would be better if you were there, but in your absence, they refuse to let their Christmas fall into despair. They celebrate what they have, versus what they have not. Now, with that said, maybe is there something more to Christmas that you thought?"

"Perhaps…" Wendy said, stroking her chin with curiosity. "Great!" The fairy proclaimed. "There's one last thing to see!" However, Wendy's interests soon broke away, as the door called "Christmas Future" made her want to stay. "Hold on!" The sprite cried out. "There's nothing interesting in here, I bet, and I'm not sure if Santa wants you to see that yet."

"It's nice to want things." Wendy opened the door and smirked. "What's Santa hiding now, that big, colossal jerk?" To Wendy's amazement, she was back at Santa's workshop. The lines of elves went on building toys non-stop. The big man himself surveyed his on-going mission, as he stood at the assembly line with his newest addition. Santa patted the shoulder of the pigtailed elf with a familiar, striped uniform. Her frozen, freckled beam was anything but the norm. The elf didn't even so much as breathe or blink, as her hands blindly manufactured new goods with a "clink, clink, clink!"

Wendy covered her mouth, "No! No way! This cannot be! I know that mindless little elf – that's me!"

Wendy's stomach grew nauseous as she stumbled away. Her pixie friend pleaded with her to stay. "Please, Wendy. You don't understand! This possible future is not Santa's ultimate plan!" But Wendy refused to hear her anymore. "Stay away from me! Let me outta this place!" she roared.

The blackened arena shattered like broken glass, Wendy was back in front of Santa and his elven class. The force of the mighty ginger had broken Santa's spell, as her outburst made him land on his jingle bells.

Wendy marched towards him with a nasty glare, until she was pulled back by her ankle snare. "I've had it with you, fat man! You've hit my last nerve! Now, it's about time that I give you what you deserve! You kidnap me and bring me to this awful place, and then you turn me into one of the elven race! You threaten me with child labor? So what? Big deal! Do you know the geezer I work for? He's an even bigger heel! Then, you dare to invade my mindscape and some, and pervert my most private of memories, you scum! You wanna make me your slave? I'd want you to try. Come a few steps closer, and I'll be happy to give you a black eye! I'll give you one last chance to change your mind. I'm too generous, I know. I'm not asking, I'm telling: LET-ME-GO!"

The other elves remained silent as Santa stood upright. His demeanor had changed to that of sorrow, not fright. "My poor Wendy Corduroy. I feel I failed you. For on this night, I was unable to give you Christmas spirit renewed. Your anger and pain is just way too great, I fear this time, ol' St. Nick had arrived too, too late. Your fate has been sealed. I'm sorry it sounds so grim. I have no other choice but to leave you to…him…

With that, Santa and his elves took their leave, leaving Wendy stunned as she couldn't believe. "Where are you all going? What? The truth was too much to bear? Didn't anyone hear me? I said lemme outta here!"

Now, left by herself and trapped in the empty hall, Wendy slumped down into a saddened ball. Her green eyes grew watery, but she refused to cry. To give her captors the satisfaction, the girl would rather die. The worse thing of all no one knew she was stuck here, as they enjoyed their Christmases without worry or care.

"I can't really blame them." Wendy said, with her chin on her knees. "I know I have hang-ups about Christmas. That part's solely on me. Still, I wish that someone could look beyond their bliss, and see that I was missing and things were amiss."

Little did Wendy know, as her mind began to wander, a new portal formed on the assembly wall beyond yonder. She didn't notice the window leading away from this nightmare, until she could make out familiar voices she'd know anywhere.

"Dipper? Dipper? Are you in there? Where are you now? To where did you disappear?"

Wendy climbed on top of the conveyor belt, as the icy feeling in her heart started to melt. Dipper Pines sat on his bed, with a wireless phone in hand, as his twin Mabel charged into the room with a demand. "Dipper, come join the party! What's the matter with you?" He explained to his sister, "Mabel, it's Wendy. I can't get through! All I wanted was to wish her a Merry Christmas, but no one seems to know where she is! I tried the Shack, and Tambry and Nate and the other teens. And no one picks up at her home. The phone just rings and rings! I don't mean to be overprotective, Mabel. I know I have a choice, but I'd feel so much better if I could hear Wendy's voice."

"Oh, Dipper," Mabel sat next to him on his bed. "Quit being such a big worry-head. Wendy's a big girl. She can handle things by her own. The last thing she'd want you to do is make this overblown. It's not a big deal. Christmas isn't Wendy's thing. If she wanted to be here, she would have given us a ring. Remember last summer? Here, I'll give you a clue. You can't force someone to do something they don't wanna do. Now, come on, already! Turn that frown upside-down! Let's get back to the party before anyone notices you're not around!"

And with that, Mabel went back on her way, but in spite of her speech, Dipper still wanted to stay. His parents' party was filled with family friends unknown, and older cousins that rather spend more time on their cell phones. The thirteen-year-old felt like a stranger in his own house, wishing for something that could keep his Christmas spirit from being doused.

He sighed, and lurched forward with a sigh. "Mabel's right, but I couldn't help but try. I know Wendy's busy, but I still wish she would have come. Maybe then, this stupid party wouldn't be so lonely and dumb."

It was then that Dipper made a wish that he hoped would travel far: "I hope you're having a Merry Christmas, Wendy…wherever you are."

A heartbroken Wendy rested her forehead against the portal's seem, when at long last, her eyes started to teem. A line of tears traveled down each cheek as she started to cry. She didn't think of herself, but of her special little guy. "I'm so sorry, Dipper." Wendy sniffled. "I really made things a mess. I wish I could make it right. I should have said "yes.""

"Wendy?" "Dipper?"

"AAH!" The boy screamed as he flew off the bed, convinced at first, he was hearing voices in his head. But sure enough, in a wavy window above his room, contained the image of Wendy, with a sense of doom.

"Wendy?" Dipper asked again. "Is it really you in there?" "Of course it is, dork." She said from the portal in mid-air.

Dipper moved towards the vision of his crush, and upon seeing what was wrong, his voice went in a rush. "Wendy, what's happened? Why aren't you tall? Your hair! Your ears! And what's the deal with that weird hall?"

Wendy wiped her face and started to plead her case. "Dipper, you gotta help me get out of this place! You're not going to believe this! I'm at the North Pole! Santa kidnapped me, and he won't let me go! He's forcing me to make toys and talk to Christmas ghosts. It's like he's trying to find what irritates me the most!"

Dipper immediately sprung to the rescue. "Don't worry, Wendy. I'll find a way to save you!" He examined the portal up and down and side-to-side, But hadn't an idea how to reach his secret love without a guide. After a few minutes, Dipper stood on his bed, as no more plans danced around in his head. "I'm really sorry, Wendy. I haven't a clue. I've never seen anything like this before. I don't know how to help you."

The two teenagers stood on different borders of time and space, as they met for the first time in months face-to-face. Dipper placed a hand against his side of the plane, The shine in his eyes had vanished and drained. "I – I wish you were here with us…with me…" Wendy set her palm against her devotee's. "I do, too, buddy. Trust me. Right now, there's no other place I'd rather be…"

All of a sudden, as though a Christmas blessing, their hands were able to touch through the barrier's meshing! Wendy and Dipper's fingers entwined as they laughed in disbelief, the ability to make physical contact came as such a relief.

Dipper said, "How can this be? I don't understand. Is this really happening? Or is it sleight of hand?" Wendy squeezed harder, "Hey, kiddo? Not at all trying to be rude, but Santa's coming back soon, so please, pull me though, dude!"

With that, Dipper tightened his grip and gave a tug, His noodle arms pulled Wendy into a huge bear hug. Once the slender redhead was more than halfway through, their worries returned with a threat somewhat new.

"What's wrong now?" Dipper strained. "Of all the dumb luck…" "I almost forgot, Dipper." Wendy explained. "I'm stuck! That old fat jerk snapped a cuff on my foot super-tight, to make sure I'd stay in his crummy workshop all night!"

Dipper wouldn't stop trying. "There has to be something I can do. There's no way I'd ever give up on you!" Though the kind words touched Wendy deeply in this situation out of whack, a second later, she could feel something try to pull her back. "No!" Dipper dug his heels deep into the blankets of his bed. "Don' t think this is over! I'd rather drop dead!"

"Dipper! Don't let go!" "I won't!"

Both Dipper and Wendy screamed as they were pulled into the wormhole, They landed back at Santa's workshop back at the North Pole, where Santa awaited with a horrific beast by his side, a ten-foot, horned demon, a so-called protector of yuletide. It was bearded and dressed in tattered clothing, its appearance was terrifying and somewhat loathing. The screams of the damned came from a container on its side. It held a wooden paddle, meant to tan wicked hides. Upon seeing this monster, the partners-in-crime shrieked, holding each other in terror as their knees became weak.

Santa shook his head, "Wendy, I've tried my best to make this right, but I feel there's nothing I can do to have you see the light. There's only one way to curb your attitude so pompous. I introduce to you, the Christmas monster known as the Krampus!

The fanged behemoth unleashed an unearthly roar, that even managed to shake the whole floor. It took a hooved step forwards in its quest, far from trendy, to claim the soul of the wicked child known as Wendy.

"Wait!"

Dipper shielded his still-ensnared sweetheart, He held his arms outwards, ready to do his part. The tiny boy's eyes met with his one-time rival, "Santa…" he greeted, thinking only of Wendy's survival. "Dipper…" Santa replied in the same, sober tone. "So, how goes those "Anti-Santa" traps in your home?" "You already know," Dipper grimaced, "That they're far from okay, but that's not the reason I'm here today. I don't have all the details, but I think I know enough. Please let Wendy go, and we'll be gone without a huff! I know at first, Wendy seems aloof and really tough. But she's so much more than that! Take it from this cream-puff! I get that Christmas spirit is your thing. That's okay and fine. If it's such a big deal, then what about mine? There is nothing I want more than to have Wendy to come home with me, so I ask you kindly, can't we please just let things be? I don't have a leg to stand on. But still, I'll beg this of you today: Please, Santa. Don't take my Wendy away!"

Dipper turned back to see Wendy slightly blushing. He corrected the mistake he made by rushing.

"I mean, "Don't take Wendy away!"

Santa and his pet gave each other a quick look, Their combined decision no more than a split second took:

"NO!"

The Krampus crept by Wendy, as she froze in a trance, as Dipper fought back with a second chance. "All right! You want a bad kid to give your curse? What if I could name someone even worse? A person that definitely deserves your type of misery? Here's a thought. How about you take me?!"

"Dude, don't!" Wendy said. "You really need to shut up now! If you keep going, you'll end up as this thing's Christmas chow!"

But Dipper ignored his crush's protests, and began to list off his sins and confess. "I've lied, cheated, and stole too many times, and that's only the beginning of my crimes! I beat up a gang of gnomes and marked them for dead. I fought living wax statues and cut off Larry King's head! I raised zombies up and left those secret agents to die, and made my sister, Pacifica, and even Wendy cry. I won't fight you, creature. I'll admit I made my own bed. I'll ask you a second time, leave Wendy, and take me instead!"

The Krampus licked his lips with a sense of glee, truly fascinated by Dipper's dirty laundry. He changed course to add Dipper to his collection, as Wendy dashed in front to offer her protection.

"Ain't going to happen, ugly! Not no how, or no way! Lay a claw on that kid, and I swear you're going to pay! If you want Dipper, you'll have to go through me first! So, come on, tough guy! I'm prepared to take your worst! If anyone deserves a decent Christmas, it's Dipper, my boy! And it's gonna happen, or else, my name's not Wendy Corduroy!"

To Wendy and Dipper's surprise, both tormentors began to laugh. Santa and Krampus supported each other so they wouldn't split in half. The elder's smile returned, "See, Wendy? I knew you would come through! Your act of sacrifice shows your Christmas spirit has been truly renewed! Santa's deed has been done. There's no further need for this. You two are free to go and enjoy Christmas bliss!"

Wendy raised an eyebrow, worried if there was another trick to be found. "Seriously?" Santa snapped his fingers a third time, as her shackle opened and fell to the ground. "Seriously."

Dipper and Wendy walked to the portal shining so bright, as Wendy realized something still wasn't quite right. "Santa, my man, I really don't mean to stall, but before we go, can you please make me tall?"

Dipper elbowed his friend, "I dunno. I think I like you better this way." "Please, Dipper, don't give him ideas." Wendy whispered with dismay.

Santa let out another joyful laugh, "Oh, I almost forgot, my dear. When you go home, your natural height will return, so have no fear." He and the Krampus offered a wave as the duo traveled back to California. "Have a Merry Christmas! But if not, you can't say we didn't warn ya!"

Back in Piedmont, Wendy and Dipper landed back in his bedroom, as she discovered she was no longer fitted in elven costume. Wendy's lumberjack clothing and height were rightfully restored, as the portal closely behind them, hopefully forevermore. Relieved, they rushed in for a snuggly embrace, their hearts still racing from escaping such a crazy place.

Dipper looked up at Wendy, "Are you sure you're alright?" "Thanks to you, buddy." She grinned and held him tight. "I don't know what to say, Dipper. Tonight, you really came though." "Oh, it was nothing." He blushed. "If reversed, I'd know I could count on you."

Their touching reunion was suddenly interrupted, as from the doorway, a shrill squeal erupted: "Ohmigosh!" Mabel grabbed her cheeks. "You're really here!" She wrapped around Wendy's waist as the much-taller girl rubbed her brown hair. "I knew I heard your voice! Did you change your mind?" Wendy turned to Dipper as she was caught in another bind. "Actually, Mabel." Dipper started. "Wendy wanted to surprise us. She spent all day and night traveling here on a small bus." Wendy followed along with Dipper's white lie about her stay. "I hope I'm not too late to join you guys on Christmas Day?" "What? No way!" Mabel exclaimed with excitement and great cheer. She flew from the room, "Hey, everybody! You won't believe who's here!"

With the two following along at a safe distance, Wendy gave Dipper a love tap, "Hey, thanks again for the quick assistance." "No biggie." He said with an embarrassed modest. "But if I can ask, are you sure you're ready for all this?" She threw her arm around her favorite little dork. "Of course I am, but now, let's get to work! I have something special to share with you two. Call it an old family recipe: Chocolate-frosted Christmas trees with just a pinch of sesame."

As they rounded the corner, Mabel teased, "Hey, you two! Guess where you're below? You guys are right under the mistletoe – "

"O-kay! That's enough right there!"

Wendy leaned forward on her knees as Dipper remained cross-legged on the colored rug on the floor. They looked up at Soos, dressed in a Santa cap, as he read from a selection of his fanfiction in Stan's recliner.

"Wow…" Dipper rested a heavy head against his fists. "I really didn't believe Soos when he said he made a Christmas story starring us, but there it is…"

"What's the matter?" Soos asked with a disappointed look. "You guys didn't like my Christmas rhymes?"

"No offense, Soos." Wendy threw out an arm in outrage, "But that story was kinda sexist, don't cha think? Why was I the one kidnapped? And Dipper saving me? Isn't that sorta cliché?"

"Well," Dipper held a finger up. "There was that one time at the Dusk2Dawn…"

"Exactly, buster! One time! Check the rescue scorecard, pal! I guarantee I have more saves checked off than you. Bet on it! And you really think Santa can take me on? Let 'im try! I'll punch him in the mistletoe, and break my foot off in his ho-ho – "

*CRASH!*

A thunderous crash could be heard on the Mystery Shack's roof. The sound made all three freeze in their tracks.

"Um," Dipper mumbled. "What was that you were saying, Wendy?"

"I – I," The lumberjane rambled nervously. "Like I was saying, maybe we should take a break, and get some hot cocoa and cookies, and see if there's any wholesome Christmas TV specials on."

"Good idea!"

"Sounds like a plan!"

The boys and Wendy jumped up and left the room, pressed together back-to-back. Their eyes searched every corner, in fear of a possible yuletide attack.

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

"And from this point here, our story finally concludes. Have a Happy Holiday, my friends. And remember, Santa's always watching you…"

#wendy corduroy #dipper pines #gravity falls #dipper #wendy

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magistertheos · 5 years ago

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Random survey I found.

Was your childhood wasted by something?

No, not really. I feel like I may have squandered my early adulthood through lack of motivation and feeling stuck though.

Would you rather die during an adventure or die like a normal person?

* Like a normal person for sure. Like, I sometimes enjoy reading about explorers and their quest for the North West Passage, or ascending Everest, or what have you. And there is a certain bit of romanticism with those that die in the endeavors. But on the whole I'd much rather die in a more mundane way.

Have your parents ever put you on a diet?

* No, but I need to put myself on a diet.

Have your parents ever tried to commit suicide?

* Actually tried, not as far as I know. My mom has been suicidal in the past though due to grief after my grandma passed away.

Do you have a gag reflex?

* Yes. It can make taking pills difficult sometimes, and if I go too far back with the toothbrush it can trigger it.

Do you ever fantasize about trying drugs?

* I wouldn't say fantasize really, but I have been curious about pot. I've heard from some friends that it's super relaxing and calming, and there have been times I've been super stressed and really thought that sounded good. And if I'm being blunt and honest, another friend of mine once told me that sex while high was amazing, and ever since she told me that I've been intrigued.

Have you ever put gum in someone's hair?

* Not as far as I can remember.

Would you rather have sex before you're married or wait till marriage?

* I've already had sex before being married. Whenever I get into another relationship I'll probably have sex before again too, provided she was cool with it.

Have you ever not gone to school, just because?

* Yep.

Do you know anyone who can play the bagpipes?

* I dont, but I'd like to be that person.

Have you ever let someone hit you?

* No.

Do you own a hand warmer?

* Unless gloves count, no.

Do you have friends in other states/countries?

* Yep, my one of my best friends lives in Texas.

Do you ever pay attention during church?

* I haven't gone regularly in long, long time. But when I did go, I paid attention to the sermon.

Do you have self control?

* Far less than I'd like. This is something I'd like to work on for myself.

Have you ever broke a window?

* Accidentally when I was little. My brother and I were pressing against the living room window trying to get a good look at mourning doves outside, and we put a big ol crack in it. Our mom heard it from upstairs in the tub and wanted to know what was going on. We cleverly told her nothing, and everything was ok. When she came downstairs later everything was indeed not ok, and our very clever ruse of pretending nothing happened was over, haha.

When was the last time you freaked someone out?

* I'm not sure.

Have you ever gone on a date with a weirdo?

* I don't think so.

Who's the last person you called a bitch?

* Probably some random car that was driving like an idiot that I encountered.

Do you drink kool-aid?

* I did when I was younger, and my ex made it from time to time.

Have you ever dropped something hot on your foot?

* Maybe when cooking.

Do you watch porn?

* Yes.

Have you ever missed someone you hated?

* No I haven't.

Is anyone in your family disabled?

* My dad is on disability because of his back, because he slipped and fell and hurt himself on the job which screwed up his back.

What do you want for Christmas?

* Books are always a safe bet, or money.

How many moles do you have?

* I'm not sure?

Do you make your bed everyday?

* Haha, no.

Do you know how to ride a bike?

* It's been eons since I have, but I did, so I suppose I do.

Do you own any comic books?

* No, I've never really been a comic book person.

What is the nastiest dare you have ever committed?

* I'm pretty lame so I don't know if I have anything really for this.

Do you know anyone who has been raped?

* I was about to say no, but actually yes I do.

Are you an atheist?

* No I'm a Christian.

Have you ever owned a goldfish?

* No.

Who was the last person to call you beautiful?

* Probably my mom at her wedding this past weekend because I was in a three piece suit. Barring that I think @ambivertomnivore may have at another friend's wedding we went to together where I was also in a suit.

How many times have you been stung by a bee?

* An actual bee? Maybe once when I was really young. If we're including flying asshole wasps maybe like 7 times.

What was the last flavor of gum you chewed?

* Peppermint.

When was the last time you used tape?

* July when decorating the office for a beach theme.

When was the last time you said fuck?

* While filling this out because my cursor keeps jumping to the bottom of the post as I'm trying to switch between questions.

Have you ever stolen something?

* Toothpaste on Christmas Eve. It was totally an accident. I was doing my normal shopping for the pay period, and it was a madhouse at the market, and they shut down self checkout for some awful reason funneling everyone into just a few lines, and the guy in front of me was sketchy as all heck and probably high. And he did straight up steal on purpose and tried to used a (probably) stolen card.

What's the last movie you watched?

* Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Who's the last person you watched a movie with?

* @ambivertomnivore

Where were you yesterday at 5 PM?

* At home.

Who would you like to kiss right now?

* The sandman so I could fall asleep.

When was the last time you had tic tacs?

* I can't remember, it's been so long. If I'm getting something like that I'm getting Altoids.

When was the last time you ate chicken?

* Saturday night.

Who was the last person you told to 'Shut the fuck up' to?

* I don't think I've ever told someone that in those words. I've told my brother to shut up, but never shut the f up

Why were you last nervous?

* Probably Saturday at the wedding, meeting a lot of new people for the first time.

Whose pants did you last take off?

* My own. I haven't taken or helped take anyone else's pants off for like a year and a half. Which is on the one hand a huge bummer, but on the other hand not as big of a deal to me most of the time.

When was the last time you were disturbed?

* This past weekend. I just didn't feel well most of it.

Why did you last feel awkward?

* The wedding Saturday. I'm pretty shy, and can have a hard time hearing in an atmosphere where it's enclosed with music playing.

When was the last time you got in a fight with your best friend?

* I can't specifically remember but probably recently'ish with my brother.

Have you ever asked someone for a tampon?

* I haven't. I don't need those, and my ex was pretty prepared for her period so I never had to go asking for her.

What was the last book you read?

* Your Maryland by Rick Cottom that @ambivertomnivore got me for my birthday.

Who was the last person you read a book to?

* My mom tried to get my brother and I to read The Hobbit to her back in middle school and I think that would have to be it.

Who is the person you say the most naughtiest things to?

* If you're talking dirty talk/sexting then I don't. If you're talking about being open and unfiltered (about anything) then probably @ambivertomnivore .

Who was the last person to send you a letter?

* @ambivertomnivore though it was a birthday card given in person.

How do you feel about war?

* It's complicated. War for war's sake is really dumb, to put it mildly. But sometimes there just isn't another way. Countries tried to negotiate with Hitler for a few years to no avail, until they had had enough and declared war. I love history, and I enjoy military history. I also can get dazzled by the glory of it, the shining sabres, the smart uniforms, the flowing banners - to wax poetic; but the reality of it is that war is hell. For those who serve, and for the innocent civilians caught up in the war zone. And it should be avoided at all costs, for many reasons. But the fact remains that sometimes it is necessary.

Do you like cupcakes or muffins more?

* That's a painful choice! I'm going to say muffins because they don't have icing to get caught in my mustache.

Have you ever pushed someone on purpose?

* My brother while fighting some years ago.

Have you ever slapped someone in the face?

* I don't think so.

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sparklyjojos · 6 years ago

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CARNIVAL EVE recap

Or: way too many characters to remember, Ryusui sending people weird stories YET AGAIN, an ominous prophecy, and horses and deers and cats, oh my!

[This is a sequel to Cosmic and Joker, please check these out first if you haven’t]

[tw: mentioned suicide]

---

This book is more of an introduction to Carnival than its own thing (although Seriyoin claims in the author’s note that it’s a separate whole, so YMMV). It’s set in August 1996 – 2,5 years after the Locked Room Lord case – and so we have to catch up on what the characters have been up to.

Because of the sheer amount of old and new characters, I’m doing what Seiryoin does and bolding names that you Really Should Remember For Later.

THE ‘CATCHING UP WITH CHARACTERS’ PART:

Hikimiya Yuuya, the statistics expert of JDC, is going through a rough patch. He’s so concerned with the vague Internet rumour about the worldwide “Crime Olympics” coming soon that his work performance suffered and landed him back in the Second Group of JDC. Cue imposter syndrome. Hikimiya is also afraid that were the worldwide crime event to really occur, his sweetheart Ryuuguu Otohime (the older sister of Ryuuguu Jounosuke) would have trouble surviving because of her disability. Right now Hikimiya’s leaving for France, where he will assist / learn under one of the seven S-rank detectives in the world, nicknamed Deus Ex Machina.

Yaiba Somahito, the leader of JDC's First Group, recently had to be hospitalized after he’d collapsed from stress. He’s worried that the stress brought on by the Crime Olympics -- will they occur -- could finally trigger his (still unclarified) hereditary psychiatric disorder. In the hospital he befriends a young boy, Amano, who with his prematurely white hair looks a lot like Yaiba’s brother Amato (who committed suicide years ago because of the aforementioned hereditary disorder). Amano was given only a few months to live.

While Yaiba’s hospitalized, Kirika Mai takes over his duty as the First Group’s leader. While people seem to like her in this position, she considers herself a temporary replacement. Since the last time we saw her she cut her hair short and has started dating a forensics expert Hazama [who showed up briefly in Joker]. She’s still confused about whether or not she has/had A Thing for Juku or was it just deep respect or what, and she certainly feels a pang of jealousy whenever she thinks about him surrounded by other people but not her.

Kirika mentions getting an author manuscript of a book describing the Locked Room Lord case. Every detective concerned gets a copy so they can approve the scenes they show up in. The book is written by a mysterious writer using the nickname Seiryoin Ryusui and is called Cosmic. It seems Seiryoin is already working on another book, Joker, this one about the Geneijo case. [WE META NOW, WE META HARD]

Tsukumo Nemu is there, but doesn’t really do anything in this book. Aside from instilling JDC representative Ajiro Souji’s “stupid parental feelings” and indirectly making him remember his dead son Souya, that is. [Have I ever mentioned that my favourite JDC AU is the one in which Ajiro inexplicably becomes the dad to Juku, Nemu, and the Ryuuguu siblings in addition to his own son? Just the 30-something Ajiro and a bunch of quirky genius kids he’s dadding over. Perfect.]

Amagi Hyouma is distraught after his work partner Yakuma Suzume was arrested for drug possession. Yakuma was a JDC detective whose reasoning ability was at its height when he subjected himself to risky activities like bungee jumping. Adrenaline and all. Nicknamed “Akuma”, or demon.

Later Hyouma is entrusted by Ajiro to take a bottle of alcohol to Yaiba as a get-well-soon gift, but predictably drinks it all right there in JDC’s lobby – his own meta-reasoning method relies on him getting drunk and, well, it didn't have the best influence on his life. Hyouma thinks a lot about his mysterious past: he can’t remember his parents, and all that his early childhood left him are vague memories of a terrifying fire and burn marks he usually hides under his bandana. He still dearly remembers his dead girlfriend Takabe Yuu (the one who died in Cosmic) and always wears a locket with her picture.

Later in the hospital Hyouma spends some time playing UNO with a fairly new detective Suzukaze Unomaru. Unomaru talks and dresses like a samurai completely with a wooden sword strapped to his back. His reasoning power increases when he’s playing card games (any and all, though UNO is his favorite), and in fact he got hospitalized because he’d somehow fucked up his hands due to too intense card game playing.

Later Hyouma is given a lift back to JDC by Kasumi Fuyuka (whose D-name, that is her “detective nickname”, is Fuyuu Kasumi), who’s similar in looks to Kirika and reasons better while she’s sleeping. (I'm starting to think they just pick someone's characteristic at random and call it a reasoning method.). The two were an item once, but nowadays Kasumi is more into someone else.

That someone else is Christmas Mizuno, a girly young man wearing all red except for the white shirt. People often call him Joya (“New Year’s Eve”) as he was born on 31st December. He’s the younger brother of the late meta-detective Pyramid Mizuno (who was ironically the one born on Christmas), and has a baby sister simply called JDC (born on the anniversary of the establishment of JDC). He was once Ajiro Souya’s friend in school, and sort of became a detective inspired by him. As of recently, Christmas became Ryuuguu Jounosuke’s assistant. His reasoning, sometimes called “anti-reasoning”, is kinda… searching for the truth via randomly wandering around or rambling to eventually stumble into the right thing. It doesn’t help that he has zero sense of direction. He’s trying his best, but can clearly see the barrier of talent between him and the big name detectives. Really wants a stuffed Catbus.

Ryuuguu Jounosuke hasn't changed much – still wears the same black clothes everyday, loves word plays, has autistic traits out the wazoo, is as aroace as they come (yay!), and is affectionately known as “JDC’s greatest weirdo”, or sometimes “the black-wearing Joker” because of his cheerful disposition. He’s horrible around machines and WILL break your laptop or phone if you let him as much as touch it, which is in a way really impressive. Ryuuguu lately feels exasperated because of one of JDC’s new detectives…

... Somedaring Amagoi [or Same Darling Amagoi? It's romanized differently on the cover and in the annex]. She's pretty much the teenage female version of Ryuuguu (that is, a walking pun hell), except she dresses like a shrine maiden. Her D-name is Amagoi Samidaare? (yes, with the question mark), but most people call her Ittai-chan because of how often she says “ittai” (“what the hell”). She considers Ryuuguu her teacher and constantly challenges him to riddle battles. Even Ryuuguu is a little done with it at this point.

On the day most of Carnival Eve is happening, Ryuuguu is giving a welcome to a new detective who has recently passed the hellishly difficult JDC entry exam. It’s Hoshino Tae, the very same person that survived the Geneijo case. Tae accepts a D-name that Ryuuguu created for her: Fuumonji Jouka, which honors the memory of Tae’s brother known under his pen name of Fuumonji Kousei.

Another future detective is Yuiga Dokuson. For now we’re just told that he was Hyouma’s school friend. Emphasis on “was”. Dokuson is a self-proclaimed narcissist (his reasoning method apparently relying on that) who claims to be thousands of years old, and rumour has it that he once drove a man to suicide simply by talking to him. If Tsukumo Juku’s beauty could be described as godly, Dokuson’s unusual good looks (fortunately not to the point of making others faint) feel like the demonic equivalent. Hyouma doesn’t have the highest opinion of the guy, and is pretty pissed off that Ajiro let the dude come anywhere near JDC.

As for other JDC detectives we haven’t met yet, there are two we need to mention:

Ushiwaka Gigolo (that’s her D-name, not real name) usually dresses in traditionally male clothing, and while she may seem brash and bold at first sight, she’s actually very amiable. Her reasoning abilities rise whenever she falls head over heels for someone, but as soon as the case at hand is solved the feelings for the partner fizzle out completely, which understandably leads to Problems. While she feels attraction to any gender, it seems she likes other ladies the most. It’s mentioned that a lot of female JDC employees certainly like her a lot. Think of that what you will. [...I don’t think I have to point out that having your bi/pan character be the one who’s defined by changing partners like socks is uhhhh not good.]

Kakuusan Kanke (this D-name being a pun on a relationship triangle) is a talkative woman with round glasses and okappa hair which gave her a nickname “Kappa”. Her reasoning ability soars whenever she’s jealous about something (a relationship, talent, fame…). Before JDC she worked as a DJ. She’s also an amateur hypnotist, weirdly enough. Kakuusan and Ushiwaka worked in a trio with another female detective, who unfortunately was murdered fairly recently.

While we’re looking at JDC, we should mention that Ajiro Souji’s usual secretary Hanto Maimu had to recently take maternity leave. (She already named her yet unborn kid Hanto Kuraimu. 'Crime Hunt'. That’s metal.) The new secretary is Mito Muramasa, a young office worker guy with low levels of self-confidence who’s fairly anxious all the time, described as evoking maternal instincts in everyone, and who basically isn’t sure how to adult properly and feels completely out of place. Relatable.

For reasons that will only come into play much, much later, we also have to mention one of JDC’s security guards called Nakamoto Hiroya, whose secret dream is to become a writer.

As for the God of Detectives Tsukumo Juku, he’s taken a paid leave -- which he never does, mind you -- to return to Shunkashuutou, the Tsukumo family’s residence in Shimane Prefecture. He invited two people along.

One is Tousen Yomiko, a private detective specializing in criminal psychology who was Juku's childhood friend and at one point in life his fiancée. Yomiko previously showed up in Cosmic helping others solve the Jackie the Ripper case. Just like Juku, Yomiko has the atmosphere of being an extremely loving and understanding person to the point that it kinda wraps around to feeling uncanny. Yomiko’s father Yomi was good friends with Juku’s father, and in fact was the one to built Shunkashuutou.

The other invited person is Inugami Yasha, now around 17-year-old private detective who helped JDC during Cosmic. Walking to Shunkashuutou, Yasha accidentally remembers that time he saw Juku’s eyes and faints (hfjsjkhf), and while he’s unconscious the black cat he brought along goes missing. The cat had been entrusted to Yasha by a randomly met dying man who introduced himself as Kanai Hidetaka, or Employee D who once worked in Geneijo. [Kanai Hidetaka is our world's Seiryoin's real name, btw.] The cat is called Kanaihidetaka ( Yasha says you’re not supposed to split that name, so I write it together). Apparently it’s connected to something called “the last case of humanity” that also has to do with a mysterious "Shinrui” (Yasha has no clue what it is, but thinks it should be written with the kanji meaning “God's tear”).

In a conversation with Yasha, Yomiko reveals that there’s something that even Juku still can’t solve -- he still can’t figure out the tricks to his father Saimon Ryuusui's “Miraculous Illusions”. The illusions in question were only ever shown once, and only to little Juku, before his father died during the Saimon Family Murder Case. The Miraculous Illusions were still unfinished at the time, but Juku thinks that if they were perfected, they could lead to some sort of an “ultimate trick”.

As for the missing cat, there’s a Shimane legend about people and animals being spirited away, so who knows if that didn’t happen to Kanaihidetaka too? But thankfully the cat is soon found by Juku, and everything's fine. (For now.)

THE ACTUAL PLOT (what little there is of it for now):

Hoshino Tae / Fuumonji Jouka brings to JDC a letter that Dakushoin Ryusui sent her a long time ago. It was sent on 26th October 1993… that is, during the Geneijo case. It contains another envelope and a curt note from Dakushoin asking the recipient not to open it until the date given (yesterday as of now). The envelope contains a short story consisting of 7 acts and called:

ANOTHER JOKER ---The Revised Detective Myth (But The Culprit Is The Same?)

[Note: Joker’s full title is Joker: Detective Myth As The Old Testament]

This short somewhat absurd story takes place in a building without an entrance or exit called Gensoukan (Phantom House? Phantom Mansion? Either way, it’s a clear riff off of Geneijo). Aside from the lead character – Ryuuguu Jounosuke – the story features only people who are already dead: Kirigirisu Tarou (apparently the owner of Gensoukan) with his wife Kano; Ajiro Souya; everyone else who died in Geneijo; as well as Kosugi the butler and his son, who both died during the Locked Room Lord case. (Incidentally, the kid’s name is now furigana’d as Katsutoshi and not Shouri like it was in Cosmic and Joker. This is never explained, but I’ll go with my Meta Instinct and assume this is an intentional change. None of the detectives reading the short story seems to notice the change. Oh, and the kid is reading a certain book called Joker. Meta intensifies.)

Another Joker’s Ryuuguu is quite confused about how he got into Gensoukan and why all the dead people he saw die in Geneijo are alive and acting like nothing happened, but he feels like he may as well go with the flow and solve the case. The victim is one Employee O, or Ousetsu Kan. The locked room he was in burned down. Witnesses heard the victim yell something like “dou, dou”. While everyone was running around and trying to break the door open, the victim must have tried to extinguish the fire by turning on water, but he was too late to save himself from burning down to a pile of bone fragments. (Ryuuguu realizes that a normal fire wouldn't be hot enough to leave only bones, but whatever, this is Gensoukan, it’s weird.) There seemed to be more bones left than just one man would have, though. The only other clue is a message carved into the floor that “the culprit is ZI”.

Murder aside, two animals held in Gensoukan's stable went missing: a man-eating horse called SIKA (“deer”) and a deer called UMA (“horse”).

Ryuuguu was apparently chosen to be in Gensoukan as Dakushoin's guest, whatever this means. Dakushoin helps the investigation by making a map of Gensoukan including everyone present's name and room location. This helps Ryuuguu eventually figure out the case and who 'the Joker' (the culprit) is. He gathers everyone in the recreation room to explain it, but the story ends just as he points and yells “You are the Joker!”

Attached to the story is a short bonanzagram (a riddle in which you substitute free spaces with letters) that prompts the reader of Another Joker to fill it in with the answers to the case.

–

The real Ryuuguu Jounosuke and Tae / Jouka solve the story's case incredibly quickly, but still have to help Christmas through his own stumbly reasoning.

The title having that But The Culprit Is The Same? part would seemingly point to whoever committed the Geneijo murders as the culprit of the story.

However, Christmas says that the person he suspects is not the culprit of Geneijo, but the Kosugi boy. [A statement which should give everyone who read Joker a long pause, but then again, Juku and Yaiba probably didn’t reveal the truth to anyone.] Ryuuguu and Jouka think the boy is just a red herring here.

Christmas’s next guess is the story’s rendition of Nijikawa Ryou. The map that Another Joker’s Dakushoin made has everyone’s pen name and real name. Everyone without a pen name has a note that “(Real Name Is The Same)”. However, Nijikawa Ryou has a slightly different note that “(Real Name = The Same)”, which can be read as him being called The Same, and since The Culprit Is The Same...

If a person was called 同じ, onaji (The Same), then the last name would be Ona and the first name would be Ji. Or maybe the last name would be Dou (same kanji, different reading) and the first name Ji. The syllable “ji” can be romanized as “zi”. And that’s why the victim yelled “Dou, Dou!” (the murderer’s last name!) and the dying message said that “the culprit is ZI”.

[I feel like this is a good time to remember Juku’s final observation in Joker about Dakushoin’s manuscript having a message that mina onaji, or “Everyone’s The Same”. I sense multiple meanings here.]

Since Story Nijikawa shared alibi with Story Miyama Kaoru (they were playing hanafuda in the recreation room), this means they were partners in crime, and maybe lovers. See, there’s apparently a proverb that “the one who interferes in love will die kicked by a horse”, so the two could symbolically use a horse as a murder weapon to deal with Ousetsu Kan, who threatened their relationship in some way.

Nijikawa planned to get the horse and the victim in the same room, scare the horse with fire and make it trample the victim. Things went awry and Nijikawa had to flee the now burning room. The victim locked the door in fear of Nijikawa returning and tried to extinguish the fire, but the unhinged horse ate him. The bones found at the scene belonged to the horse.

As for what happened to the deer, well, there’s this proverb that “the person who chases a deer does not see the mountain”. Yama, mountain, is also a term for a card deck. Like the hanafuda card deck Nijikawa and Miyama used. Hanafuda, which has a deer card in it. The deer called UMA was a card all along, and Nijikawa hid it inside a deck of cards in the recreation room.

[A somewhat absurd story, as I said.]

The filled-in bonanzagram looks something like this:

“KAN died. HANnin [culprit] ZI. UMA was brought into GORAKUshitsu [the recreation room]. DEKOI [the person used as a 'decoy' killer] was the KOSUGI boy.”

Ryuuguu and Jouka notice that there's a hidden message obtainable by making an anagram of all the filled-in letters. Poor Christmas Mizuno feels inadequate as he's not able to guess it as easily as these two did (and the reader will share his pain of being denied the knowledge of the message before the end of the book). Concerned about the message, Ryuuguu brings the story to Ajiro, who then arranges one-on-one meetings with each of the big name detectives to ask them what they personally think of it.

While this is happening, Ryuuguu thinks about a dream he had that night in which he talked to someone. He can’t actually remember anything else, but he has a vague feeling that the dream was important. What was it about...?

–

[This chapter is called “The real short story: Cosmic Zero”]

Ryuuguu is in some empty space in which he can only hear Dakushoin's voice. Dakushoin talks about vague and weird things, about space-time curved into a Moebius strip in which the cases are recurring again and again, and the dead are coming back to live and repeating their deaths without noticing.

Ryuuguu asks about Another Joker and the manuscript from the Locked Room Lord case. Just how much does Dakushoin know if he was able to hint at future events in them? Dakushoin answers that since Ryuuguu will forget this conversation even happened (because it shouldn’t be happening in the first place), there's no harm in telling him some things.

A plan to exterminate all humanity is under way. It started back in 1979 with the Saimon Family Murder Case, one of the Four Great Tragedies. The other three are the Geneijo case, the Locked Room Lord case, and the future Twin Disappeareance case of 1999. The Crime Olympics are not included in the Four Great Tragedies, as it's a worldwide event that doesn't concern just Japan, and it's really just a preparation for the last Tragedy.

The Twin Disappearance case will be the last one. Then, on the night of the last day of the current century – 31st December 2000 – Tsukumo Juku will be murdered, and the human race will perish soon after.

All of the culprits of those giant cases – Shiroyasha, the Artist, the Locked Room Lord, Kamikakushi of the Twin Disappearance case, as well as the Billion Killer of the Crime Olympics – are nothing more than decoys. They are all controlled by a mysterious Tsukumo Jaki (九十九邪鬼), who will be the one to kill Juku. Tsukumo Jaki is apparently someone Ryuuguu knows – why, it's one of his fellow detectives!

Ryuuguu is upset, but Dakushoin points out that since he'll forget this anyway, and all is destined, there's no reason to care a lot about it now. The two have a conversation about language and writing, and Dakushoin hints at there being a root language that all others came from, and that Ryuuguu should look into it.

Finally they bid each other goodbye. Dakushoin says that he himself can only return to 'the beginning' and tread the same path over and over again, but Ryuuguu can now continue walking forward in new time.

[End of Cosmic Zero]

The hidden message is finally revealed:

KAN HAN ZI UMA GORAKU DEKOI KOSUGI --->

HANZAI GORIN SUGU KOKO DE KAIMAKU

“The Crime Olympics will be starting here soon.”

–

At exactly 1 PM on 10th August 1996, the Crime Olympics really do start.

With the JDC building -- and about 300 detectives inside it -- exploding.

And that's where Carnival Eve ends.

[To be continued in Carnival]

#sparkly reads carnival eve #maijo and jdc stuff #can't imagine how people waited for carnival for 2 years after that ending

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dearjacobwren · 6 years ago

Text

Dearest Dragha,

Thanks a lot for your last letter. I've just re-read it. You know that you are the last one that still sends me real letters? Jaap either stopped, or keeps sending them to the wrong address. Probably he lost count of numerous address changes in my recent nomadic past :)

It's a beautiful thing – seeing that there is a proper letter waiting for me in the mailbox. Usually I postpone the moment of opening the envelope until later in the day, until I feel like it's the right time. What that means is that I carry the unopened letter in my pocket (that I think about all day long), and I masochistically wait to be in an appropriate space and in the right state of mind so I could really dedicate myself to it and read it properly. As if the letter were a gift. Christmas or a birthday present.

Which reminds me

As a kid I was suuuper hyperactive, one of the most impatient kids ever. I'd often get these crazy outbursts of energy - I didn't know what to do with my body, so I'd usually do a crazy energetic dance or hang from the top of the wardrobe whilst singing my favorite pop song (my mother used to call these moments 'žuta minuta'). When I look back at it, it seems quite pathological to the extent at which I wasn't able to harness my excitement :)

On Christmas eve I usually couldn't get to sleep. I’d be shaking and sweating in my bed hoping that Christmas morning would happen IMMEDIATELY, and after a couple exhausting hours, I'd finally enter theizbrisi 'the' pliz dream land, but not for too long. I'd wake up in the middle of the night, get up, run to the living room, stand in front of the Christmas tree and marvel at the presents underneath it. I'd cover myself with a blanket and wait until my mother woke up and start her morning routine. She'd see me, tell me off because I didn't sleep at all, but then she'd allow me to open my present.

Christmas presents were always a downer, because my parents are those who think that they should be of use. Meaning, no toys ('you have enough Lego bricks to play with'), no candies ('bad for your teeth'), no new clothes ('your brother's pants fit you well'). Literally everything that I liked at the moment of growing up (music, books, films etc.) was off the list ('your taste changes rapidly from year to year, we don't plan to satisfy every capricious wish of yours').

Still, that never made my Christmas orgasm less intense – after the manic act of tearing the wrapping paper and excitedly admiring what I'd gotten (usually a pack of socks, a pair of underwear or a pack of empty video cassettes plus a chocolate), I'd pass out on the sofa in the living room cause the exhaustion of not having slept for more than an hour the night before was just too much for my tiny body.

And look how far I've got. I resisted my desire to open your letter immediately, kept it in my pocket for almost the whole day until I found the right moment. I even enjoyed procrastinating this crazy letter ceremony.

I know how to harness my excitement, I'm all grown up now. My mother would be so proud. If she only knew.

* * *

'What's on your big mind right now?', Charlie asks me sometimes. Actually, he poses this question every time he sees me fading away, when he notices I stopped perceiving the outside world. It's happened quite often lately.

He knows that there is something on my mind all the time – even whilst I'm brushing my teeth, peeling the potatoes, cleaning the toilet or having my daily tea ceremony. He also knows that these silent conversations are playing out very loud in my head. Sometimes I argue with people, sometimes I'm analyzing an argument I've just read in the newspaper, and sometimes I'm trying to unpack what's behind apparently benign comments creepy posh guests say all the time in the hotel where I work.

Charlie says that it looks fun my little performance. I make faces, I do small gestures with my hands, I nod and shake my head, I sigh and laugh. Usually this imaginary conversing is happening in complete silence, I don't say a word, but sometimes a part of the sentence unawarely slips out of my mouth. These are his favorite moments.

He can be funny too. Often I see his hands moving, his fingers flying over an imaginary piano, even when his mind is occupied with another activity. 'What's the tune?', I ask him in the same manner he asks me what's on my mind. He looks at me with his big eyes, as if he was caught stealing, then smiles, relaxes and sings out the tune that was stuck in his ear. Together we come across like two weirdos, him with his inaudible excercises, me with my invisible conversations. If our friends only knew.

I'd like to share one of the things that happened not so long ago, that I have been coming back to ever since it unfolded. It was one of those Dragha situations, I immediately thought of you the second it happened, instinctively I knew you'd be excited to hear about it.

You remember that amazing flea market next to our old house, right? Well, on the same square there's a swimming pool. Building from the sixties, public showers are on the ground floor, swimming pool is on the third floor. I go there once a week, usually sometime in the early afternoon, just before lunch. At that time of the day two out of six lanes of this 25meter long pool are reserved for swimming courses for preschoolers and kids not older than 10.

I hate kids in swimming pools, especially where the rules are not strict. And of course that in this one pool guards just don't give a fuck. So the kids are allowed to constantly switch between the lanes or jump on other people whilst they are swimming. I get super annoyed cause I have to stop, change the technique and my breathing routine, talk to them and ask them to go to the part of the pool designated to their class if they don't want to be attentive to the rest of the crowd.

So one day I was doing my swimming routine and realized it was getting impossible to swim because the waves were bigger than usual. I stopped and saw a group of at least 25 preschoolers jumping in the water in the most absurd way possible, I guess they had a competition who could do the funniest jump. They were screaming all in the same voice plus throwing all the swimming accessories at each other (boards, fins, paddles, caps, goggles and various other items). But what I found shocking was that the instigator of this infernal pool carnival was their own coach, a thirtysomething straight white guy who was acting as if he was 10 again and it seemed like he was enjoying himself big time.

It all lasted 15-20 minutes, and at first I was shocked. 'The rules have to exist, how on earth can I finish my routine if this is how you teach kids to behave in a pool?' a small nazi in me was already silently arguing with the guy responsible for this bacchanalia.

But then I went to the side, took a small break and remembered one eerie moment I experienced a couple of years before in a public swimming pool in Amsterdam. The situation was almost the same - it was the same part of the day, late morning or early afternoon, 25 meter pool, 2 lanes reserved for preschool swimming classes. It's just that this pool was taken care of - recently built on one of the canals close to centre, everything new, sleek Dutch design, lots of windows, natural light etc. The parents were even allowed to sit next to the pool (they had to were these special shoe covers that surgeons wear in operating rooms) so their kids would be more assured during their first swimming lessons.

Since kids were dressed up normally (meaning outside clothes, they weren't wearing swimsuits), I thought it was one of their first classes where teachers are just giving a preparatory 'theoretical' introduction. But what happened after the presentation was super strange. Kids had to jump in the pool with their clothes on. It was a really weird moment – a group of ten completely dressed six and seven year-olds (wearing pants, shirts, jackets, even sneakers!) struggling to repeat movements they'd just learned from their coach, but this time in the water. After a couple of minutes of struggling, the instructors had to help get them out of the pool because their clothes were wet and heavy, poor kids couldn't carry their weight all by themselves.

I approached one of the parents and asked them what type of course that was and why kids were obliged to swim with their clothes on. I got an answer that it is a non-swimmers course and that the point of the lesson is that kids need to learn what to do if they fall off a boat into the sea.

I kind of got it, but I wasn't convinced. I tried to put myself in their skin – you're six, you don't swim, you are probably afraid of water, it's your first time at the swimming pool, it's a completely new setting, semi-naked people wandering around doing silly exercises in and out of water, and then your teacher tells you to jump in the pool, move your limbs in the manner he showed just a minute ago even though you're wearing heavy wet clothes and you have no idea how to move your hands and legs to keep your head above the water. I was trying to imagine how it must have felt for those poor kids struggling to swim wearing jeans and sneakers.

I mean, it's not a drama, it's not like I'm describing a domestic violence situation. A group of ten six-year-old non-swimmers trying to cope in the water with their clothes on, ça va. Still, what bothered me is that I intuitively realized that none of those kids are ever going to return to the swimming pool after they've finished with their swimming course. They will learn how to swim properly, they will master the technique and what to do in an emergency situation, but they will hate swimming forever, or at least until they decide to fight off their childhood water trauma.

That was the Amsterdam memory that came back to my mind whilst I was on my short break in the pool and looking at the first group of kids, this time 25 six- to ten-year-old going completely wild whilst[izbrisi ovaj whilst pliz] doing whatever they wanted on one of their first swimming classes. Goggles, boards, fins and other swimming accessories were being thrown everywhere, in and out of water, 10 tiny girls were trying to submerge their coach, and a couple of them were trying to undress him. He was fighting them off, laughing super loud. The rest of the kids were running around, uttering screams I never thought human beings were able to produce, and jumping in the water in the most unimaginable ways. One preschooler even took his swimming trunks off, was parading around completely naked and proudly showing his butt to his friends.

(Btw I remembered one of my colleagues at work telling me that the problem with kids these days is the diet. You can't expect they'd act normal if you feed them with chocolate and Haribo candies all the time. She said of course all the kids are crazy these days, they're sweating sugar, and they have this manic sugar rushes all day long).

Looking at those kids I realized that I'm not going to swimming pool because I want to learn how to react if I fall off a boat into the water, nor because I think it's an useful activity that could help save other people's lives. There's nothing pragmatical pragmatic about it - I just like swimming because it makes me feel good. As simple as that.

If swimming teacher that was having fun whilst fighting off the oversugared over sweetened hyperactive girls that were trying to undress him was by any chance trying to do the same thing any of the existing swimming pools in Amsterdam, he would be fired in less than a week. His teaching skills just wouldn't be appreciated there. The number of concerned parents who were present on their kids' first swimming class in the swimming pool in Amsterdam was quite astonishing, and lets me think that the class of people who think overparenting is the only way of raising their kids is not growing, but it has become a new normal.

On the contrary, these kids here were just having fun, as simple as that. And I'm sure that at least half of them will come back to the swimming pool on weekends or on their school break. And if only half of those succeed in developing a healthy approach to their bodies, it's a lot already.

At the same time, what they managed to learn during this completely anarchic swimming class is a feeling, one might even say a skill, that their Amsterdam peers will probably never acquire in their whole life. They learned how to overcome their fear of water. The method used might have been completely un-methodical and unreflected, but it was successful. And i'm sure that in the situation of 'emergency' (in case a kid falls off a sailing boat or off a cruise ship, as one of the parents in Amsterdam told me), a child without fears stands better chance of surviving than the one who got the knowledge in the 'proper' way.

As I have already said, the swimming teacher that lets his THEIR pupils run around a swimming pool naked whilst throwing swimming accessories at random visitors would have been fired anywhere else but here. Here nobody cares.

2011 was Amsterdam, 2019 is Brussels. It's by no means heaven here. But on that day on my short break in the swimming pool on Place du Jeu de Balle whilst I was watching the most anarchic swimming lesson I've ever seen in my life, a strange, but pleasant feeling got over me. I felt like I know why I'm here and not there.

* * *

I don't enjoy art anymore. I really don't. And it's not like I don't try – I go to theatre and galleries as religiously as before, sometimes even a couple of times a week. But it really doesn't work for me as it used to.

It's not a new thing this art disdain, it has been growing in me for awhile now, and I have become aware of it ever since I moved to Brussels. I tried to unpack this aversion in conversations with Charlie. Once he told me that I have to become bourgeois in order to enjoy art again.

I have been coming back to this thought quite often recently. Three weeks ago I saw this piece performed by members of an art organization from Brussels, a safe space where refugees and recent immigrants to the city can work on their artistic ideas and develop them with the help of settled (legally speaking) Belgian citizens. The majority of 15 performers in the show were people of color that are active as artists and participants of various workshops that take place there.

I would love to be able to say that they were performing. It seemed more like they were puppeteering. The thing is, most of the credit for their work went to a white straight Western European guy that usually works as a scenographer (that's what Wikipedia says), but in this piece he was responsible for 'artistic direction'. The show got standing ovation, almost every night apparently. Audiences were praising how daring this piece was, both artistically and politically.

Unfortunately after the piece not a single person that I talked to and that was smitten by its profound political, ecological, and social commitment (this is an actual quote from a panegyric published in one daily newspaper) seemed to be concerned with the fact that performers were paid merely 10 euros for a show.

A couple of months before, I'm not so far from the place where I recently saw this piece, this time it's a smaller scale program,program; 4 young writers in a relatively unknown studio space are reading excepts excerpts of their work. It was an evening organized by writers themselves, big institutions weren't involved, so I didn't fear that I was going to be confronted with a work of a yet another young Western European maker that was going to change the world with His radical take on art and politics that involves unpaid immigrant labour.

The event went well. Writers seemed humble, well aware of their vulnerability, especially in a situation where they needed to perform in front of an audience, no matter the fact that there were no more than 20 people in the room and that they knew most of the faces that came to their reading.

There was this guy, in his late 20s, curtain haircut straight from the 90s, tiny round glasses, acute level of social awkwardness. I could barely hear him even though he was using a microphone. Before he started reading he gave out a couple of copies of his publication so we could follow his poem in written form. Thin books he shared with us looked a bit like anarchist zines I used to read when I was a teenager.

His poem was long and senseless, and in the book he was playing with different fonts and typefaces. It was fun hearing his timid voice and at the same time following it in written form, realizing how he graphically organized his text.

I didn't dislike the show, it didn't make me angry or sad. But during and after it, I had only one question on my mind. As much as I wanted, I just I couldn't get it out of my head all night long. 'How do you pay your bills?', I wanted to ask him. 'Do you poems cover your rent?', was on repeat on my mind after every sentence he uttered. I went home thinking about the connection between the amount of money on artist's bank accounts and the type of art they're putting out in the world.

Fuck, I'm becoming really bitter, my mind is corrupted with these sinister ideas, I thought the next day. Fuck, I thought the next day, that I'm becoming really bitter, that my mind is corrupted with these sinister ideas. But then, I gave it a second thought and I realized that there was something in his lecture that made me think of this guy's bank account. There was something present in his voice, a specific quality of his behaviour, the way he was holding himself, his pronunciation, that made me think that this guy has never spent one single day of his life having a job outside of claustrophobic art world. Not a single day spent serving people behind the bar, counting money at the till, sorting products on the shelves in a supermarket, or chopping onions in the restaurant. Not a single day of experience that marks the last 10 years of my life, ever since I left my uni.

Let me be clear, I am not cynical. I'm not retreating to irony. This is not where my mind's at now. Nor I would like to personally attack this guy for what he is or how much money he has. I'm more trying to understand how am I supposed to connect to his work having in mind all the differences that structure and organize our everyday life? How to empathize with his poetic abstraction, how to enjoy in his imagination knowing that the way he makes use of his own time bears no resemblance to how my daily schedule looks like?

Polyamorous Love Song, the book I'm sending with this letter, didn't drastically change my opinions on art. It didn't make me a believer again nor did it give me reasons to fight off my lapse from art grace. Why is it here in the same package as this letter (aside from the fact that it's a part of Jasna's project :)) is that there's this thought by the end of the book that might help me in formulating why I feel what I feel recently.

Pop songs that we know of are all monogamous, no matter how open-minded the artist is. Serge Gainsbourg and Britney Spears have one thing in common: the both wrote songs (yes, it might be hard for you to believe, but Britney was involved in the process of creation of her own music) whose addressee is one single person. 'Love songs are propaganda for monogamy', as Mr. Wren (better said, one of the narrators in the book) would say.

Imagine a world were where love songs are not monogamous, I read a couple of pages later. Envisage an universe where pop songs are dedicated to various individuals. How would that change our perception of reality? If we lived in a possible world where pop songs we hear on the radio, sing in our showers, stream and share are not dedicated to one single person, but to a lot of different people at the same time, would our feelings be shaped differently because we'd have a language for something that exists outside of daily perceptions of the contemporary reality we are living in at the moment?

I remember well, in 2012 I saw a movie Weekend by Andrew Haigh. Have you seen it? The main characters are two guys, late 20s, early 30s, one is artist, other pool lifeguard, they hook up one night in a gay bar, start hanging out. The plot is set in England (I can't remember where), and doesn't cover a long stretch of time, only a couple of days. It mostly consists of their conversations about love, life, sex, coming out, gay marriages etc and their unimportant everyday life rituals like drinking coffee or cycling around.

I didn't experience a massive catharsis during the film, but I can still recall that a deep feeling of sadness hit me after I came back home from the cinema. The morning after the feeling was still there. It wasn't suffocating, but for the whole week after seeing the film whatever I was up to I could sense a feeling of soft and profound fragility that permeated all my actions. A type of vulnerable sensitivity impregnated my whole being.

I knew what instigated this state, and I was aware that it started after I've seen the film. But I didn't feel like it was one of the top ten films I've ever seen. I tried to analyze why I'd been so moody and realized that that was probably the first time in my life that on big screen I've seen a queer film where one of the gay characters doesn't die, isn't beaten up, castrated or raped, isn't ostracised by their community and where gay relationship isn't portrayed like a fucking war zone. The story of Weekend is simple – two gay guys hook up and spend couple of days together, eating, fucking, cooking, drinking coffee, chatting. Of course that there are consequences to my emotional wellbeing if gay reality in every film I'd seen until 2012 is depicted as tragedy.

Imagination is a powerful tool. And I'm not talking just about the under- and mis-representation of sexual and gender minorities on big screens. It's also about the fact that in 2019 I find absolutely necessary that we start treating art spaces as safe(r) spaces. Violent imagination in art works i'm seeing lately reproduces and reinforces the same power logic that exists outside of art world. The more time I spend finding the examples of an influential nature of aesthetic experience, and its complicity in the formation of how we perceive the world, how impregnated our minds are with what we've seen on TV and heard on the radio, the more I find non-negotiable the idea that artists should be accountable for the artistic universe that they present, and that only in safe(r) spaces a different type of creative imagination has the potential to emerge.

I don't think my art disdain will merely disappear once I become bourgeois (though I am glad to announce that this might finally happen quite soon). Even with more money on my bank account I will think that there are theatre makers and choreographers whose works are producing serious damage to our collective imagination, who don't recognize that this sacred ideal of Western European romantic tradition called freedom of artistic expression has it's its clear borders.

This idea from the last chapter of the book that pop songs not only depict but they also create is one I find truly revolutionary. Yes, we do need polyamorous love songs to change our boring monogamous reality :) But it's not just about non-monogamous pop songs, it's about the all forms of possible lives and existences that we sometimes successfully, sometimes tragically, but definitely very intuitively, are trying to articulate in our charged 2019.

Read the book and pass it on please. I'm sure you'll find someone interesting to share your thoughts with.

What about the swimming pool lesson? I don't know. I had a thought about the alternative ways of fighting my own fears of becoming creative being again and another thought about my new bank card, and another one about the updating the definition of the working class and another one on the different shades of whiteness and Western European wannabe radicals, but then I totally lost the connection with the rest of the letter :) Next time, I promise.

How's your new cyborg life? I want to hear everything. Come for a visit please, it's about time.

I love you, hope to see you soon XX p

ps Jasna's explanation is here! More on http://dearjacobwren.tumblr.com/

'So, I am giving this book to you, as a present. I am giving it to you, but on one condition. Or actually two. The first one is that you read it. The second is that, upon reading it, you do the same as I did: you think of a friend who you think might like it, who you think will be a nice addition to our small community, you give it to him/her as a present and along with it, write a letter to explain why you think this person and this book might go so well along. Then you give them the letter and the book, and you forward the letter to me, so I could publish it here.

You decide on the length of the letter, I am just asking for the language to be English so that more people could understand it… and, of course, at the end of the letter you make a small note about this principle so that when your friend is done with reading, he or she can send it to the next person, including a personalized letter, so that this circle could go on expanding…'

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sheusedtobesassier · 3 years ago

Text

Day 10,785

172 days until I hit my thirties.

So. An assortment of 172 good memories from my twenties.

001. Addey hype mumbo jumbo singing along with Moana before she was really talking.

002. Being asked to say the big thank you at SOE graduation.

003. Isaac’s face when he peeked at Omar’s new shoes at the East Towne Starbucks.

004. Drinking Mike’s honey moonshine while we played Euchre in his starry cicada humming backyard.

005. Taking Mama on the water taxi rides when she visited me in Chicago.

006. Grandma Kathy calling me, “My pink haired granddaughter.”

007. Sneaking into camp with the Hines girls to write up collaboration glass bottle poems in the Prayer Chapel.

008. The slow and steady hike up to the Hollywood sign.

009. The night I kidnapped Mini Farm kittens to snuggle for a movie and accidentally left the gate open releasing the rest to the Wisconsin wild.

010. Sunday afternoon sipping Stella Artois in the perfect sunny front room of our Albany Park apartment.

011. Zoë giving me all her wallet cash so I could buy bare minimum groceries.

012. Taking turns reading The History of Love aloud in our Winter Staff Forest Springs apartment.

013. The Halloween/Hillside round of Murder in the Dark with All Stars only.

014. Acting a fool in the unfinished Lodge room filled from floor to ceiling with Tempur-Pedic mattresses.

015. Doug lounging in the giant crate of laundry bags in the laundry room.

016. GUBS INSIDE JOKES.

017. St. Patrick’s Day 2021, hahaha.

018. Beyoncé: Lemonade in the empty downstairs apartment with Mary.

019. Accidentally getting kayak drunk from a backpack bottle of Ménage à Trois.

020. Daylight skinny dipping with Amber to inaugurate the new pool.

021. The perfect stray cat that came around the second half of 2018.

022. Renate being the first to cry with me post breakup. Bill supplying sparkling water to prevent dehydration.

023. Doing drag makeup in Bekah’s bathroom while her and Marissa giggled at each other in the tub.

024. Every kitchen island conversation I’ve ever had with Steve Hines.

025. The perfect colors the night we snuck up on the helicopter landing pad on that Dallas hotel.

026. FACILITATING THAT SAME WEEKEND’S GAME OF ASSASSIN, BEFORE IT GOT UGLY.

027. Becoming buddies with all four Williams brothers.

028. When Mercy told me I’m her favorite Williams brother.

029. Hahaha the Camp Clean Up I put Elliot on my crew for my own amusement and told him his only responsibility was to walk around with me the whole time.

030. The time Blaine and I were avoiding the long lunch line together and Nimanim was like, “Wait so this is like an actual friendship huh?”

031. Tanner enthusiastically reenacting Gandalf’s YOU SHALL NOT PASS as I came up the path.

032. Will realizing I’d Facebook stalked him without sending a friend request.

033. Magically finding Pop Rocks the morning of my perfect 22nd birthday.

034. My perfect 26th birthday weekend in Minneapolis with my dreamy local girl gang.

035. Tauri’s blossoms on the Sky Lodge trees in the spring.

036. Encountering and becoming completely enthralled by the Enneagram.

037. OLIVIA FUCKING GATWOOD APPRECIATING MY PINK HAIR.

038. Clementine von Radic writing that Greyhound always loses her luggage too.

039. My stretch of obsession with Hemingway’s love interests.

040. Becoming friends with Fat Boy Tucker pup.

041. Becoming friends with rescued best dog Star girl.

042. The night Doug was my ride from the airport and he pulled his truck over so we could take a good look at the gigantic moon.

043. That hilarious flirtatious moonlight wander of the horse trails with Omar and Edith and Caleb.

044. Jake Nelson giving me a surprise scoop of chocolate custard as a peace offering after his grumpy bedtime attitude.

045. THE DISCOVERY AND CAPTIVATION OF HADESTOWN.

046. Getting to have Alia in every day for a while there.

047. Les Mis at Overture Center because Ally bought our family tickets.

048. Pat Coakley telling me I don’t know how special I am.

049. Spit handshake with Janelle swearing we’ll never think any boys are cooler than we are.

050. Marissa picking me up without explanation to take us on a quiet sunset drive of her favorite county road.

051. Jayden imagination playing with Blue, Guy, and a motorcycle for a whole night then waking me up with them the next morning.

052. Genevieve asking to borrow my lavender romper for her rehearsal dinner.

053. Getting to be Cali’s sidekick the week leading up to her wedding extravaganza.

054. Houston YMCA hallway phone call from Justin’s dorm room asking me clarify which of the boys was Nick, Schmidt, and Winston.

055. The absolutely ludicrous old woman I got drunk with in the Amtrak dining car.

056. The absolute ludicrous glass skull light up cocktail I drank at Freehand’s hotel bar.

057. When Dan Hartke told me I’m a mother hen.

058. When the most beautiful Sora from Korea told me, “You always flowers.”

059. Hannah’s hand me down Steve Madden sandals.

060. Runaway trips with Amber Bamber to watch Shakespeare in the woods.

061. Storytelling with Jack Thomas.

062. Drunk bar darts after Corn Fest with Marissa’s gang.

063. Leaving the reception with Emmy to go curl up in Amber’s bed and giggle about how it was the last place she slept as a virgin.

064. The night Riana and Zoe and I took turns putting our heads out the car windows to howl like wolves.

065. Falling asleep on the couch with Zelina and Chelle beer buzzed watching Jersey Shore.

066. That perfect little basement Thai place a couple blocks from Emmy’s apartment dorm.

067. When Dan forced me to get out of his car and left because I’d annoyed him too hard on our library trip.

068. Vicki suggesting we go live together overseas.

069. Depop photoshoot with Taurilyn.

070. Mykenza bluntly declaring true things I couldn’t confirm or deny.

071. Norm announcing to the full room he was teaching that I was a rascal.

072. Zochella.

073. Noah Gundersen and Brett Dennen at The Majestic.

074. Every damn time we ate beautiful food at High Rock Cafe.

075. The nights I felt capable at TOCHI.

076. LENA DUNHAM’S GIRLS.

077. Jordan suddenly ballroom dancing Genevieve around the kitchen.

078. Staying up late crying to my mom about trying to take good care of the lesbian teenagers at Sky Lodge.

079. The night Caleb very suddenly showed up with a bowl of sangria then tried to leave a dozen times but we convinced him to stay.

080. Rachel swearing that the man in the Wrigleyville bookshop had love at first sighted me.

081. Making the list of how many musicals I’ve been affected by.

082. Discovering weirdo La Llamada then driving straight to Carlsons’s to immediately watch it again with them.

083. Writing heartfelt correspondence back and forth with Kat for a few years.

084. All the funky cards I’ve received from Amber.

085. Finding that PERFECT dress at Goodwill for Tauri’s Winter Ball.

086. An actual friendship with Paul Bierdeman.

087. COUNSELOR MEETINGS.

088. The night Emily Holverson and I stood outside the Lodge trading sincerity about Sky Lodge and the complications of ministry.

089. Blunt conversations with Josiah, hahaha.

090. The Lower Lakeview round of Murder in the Dark when I killed every single person playing before anyone could call, “Dead body!”

091. When I suddenly caught him listening to my singing in the tunnel.

092. Putting together outfits from Lolita’s wardrobe.

093. Driving into such an unexpectedly lush part of Missouri.

094. A nighttime surprise of Big Ben and The London Eye and Buckingham Palace and St James Park in the falling snow.

095. MY PERFECT ABODE IN ST. LOUIS, MO.

096. OUR PERFECT ABODE IN ALBUQUERQUE, NM.

097. Becoming one of Steve’s best friends.

098. The evening Elorine and I didn’t go with and REALLY talked.

099. THE UNDENIABLE INHERENT GOODNESS OF MERRY’S KIDS.

100. Farrell’s crying apology on the sidewalk outside of Maple.

101. Alex’s irregular sudden extreme compliments.

102. The females I’m close with over the internet due to mutual admiration.

103. Lars from Hinge, hahaha.

104. Sitting at the end of a long table with Janelle making a napkin list of our all time favorite manic pixie dream girls.

105. The handful of LotR marathons we’ve accomplished.

106. When Kat told me she understood the Harry Styles crush but that maybe he wasn’t right for me.

107. Reading so many Donald Miller books and getting others to read them too.

108. Kisses on the cheek from Esther.

109. Getting raspberries for Mike’s turtles as an apology for making death threats.

110. Tipsy dancing alone with my eyes closed for like a hundred songs at Sheryl’s Club on New Years 2021.

111. The flattering comparison to the wonderful Harley Duke.

112. Aw omg, our happy hammock stacks at Observatory Hill.

113. Telling slumber party stories on stage for Women’s Retreat.

114. BEING THE MIME FOR LIFE GROUP’S FAVORITE.

115. Fatigued watching The Kissing Booth and laughing harder than ever.

116. Spastic goofing around with Ashley AND Brittany the day we moved Amber into her new home.

117. Sitting on my closet floor showing crying Riana baby videos of singing piano playing Janelle.

118. Giggle running through Piggly Wiggly parking lot at closing with Rene with like $400 of alcohol on Ally’s birthday.

119. Fireball shots ALL NIGHT with Jeremiah and his uncle on Christmas Eve.

120. Listening to the delicious details of Emmy’s Europe romance.

121. Zion giving me his Adidas crewneck as sentimental goodbye gift.

122. Arguing with Austin over our differing zombie apocalypse ideologies.

123. Drunk Discord/Among Us with Hunter and Bekah and Nick and Marissa.

124. How soft Kenny’s absurd speeches made my heart.

125. MINUTE LONG VOICE MEMOS STACKS WITH ROSIE. ♡♡

126. Listening to Lizzy McAlpine in an afternoon candlelight bath.

127. Listening through John Mayer’s The Search for Everything mowing the ball field.

128. Emotionally painting my old house in Birmingham.

129. Being really damn good at that Heads Up game with Omar.

130. Compiling worthwhile stuff for Foreman training.

131. GROWING MY PLANTS.

132. The stretch when Bryanna was usually wrapped in my blanket.

133. Talking about going to Colorado with Alex.

134. The notorious reputation of knowing everybody at CCCA.

135. GETTING ALL DRESSED UP FOR DINNER THEATER.

136. Calling Ally from a parking lot at Emmy’s bachelorette party because I was SO CONFIDENT I was a hot person that I had to talk to her about it.

137. Playing the stupidest laughingest game of The Floor Is Lava with Jackson when I came to visit them all in Dallas.

138. Feeling really really really at home in my apartment at Sky Lodge.

139. How Ryan Boon would struggle to talk through his laughter.

140. Belonging to myself at Fiddleheads Coffee in Cedarburg.

141. THE UNDENIABLE IMMEDIATE CHEMISTRY BETWEEN ME AND COURTNEY HART.

142. Big Falls County Park. Every time.

143. Kayaking down Blue River with Duke, Jeremiah and Addey, Hunter, and Hunter’s friend.

144. That perfect burger at Pier Burger in Santa Monica.

145. Riding The Brown Line down to The Loop and all the way back up.

146. Aw. Welp. Every lengthy truthful phone call with Sam.

147. The four seasons I was compiling four second videos.

148. Ashley’s and my perfect roommates stretch, featuring our perfect couch.

149. The night we forced so many to come to our Blackfish showing then sign our petition opposing Sea World. Hahaha. #emptythetanks

150. The night Ben and I sat in the corner giddy burning through TriBond cards.

151. The night I showed up at Doug’s and Lueck’s door losing my damn mind over The Dress.

152. Community Soccer at the local elementary school gym.

153. Frigid stranded in the Chequamegon National Forest with Mary and Caleb on our return drive from our nightmare trip to Duluth.

154. The final night of being “cats in a bag” sleeping in Janelle’s bottom bunk.

155. Filling up the broomball courts under a negative degrees meteor shower.

156. Getting another wonderful summertime of Delala.

157. The Sunday service the pastor wouldn’t quit snapping his fingers and a bunch of us were txting each other like, “OMFG NO AHHH HOW DO WE MAKE HIM STOP????”

158. Oomph. The perfect veggie omelette (no cheese) at Sparks.

159. Dad’s soft voicemail about his admiration for Adele.

160. Their neighbor lady Maddie’s outfit for the Christmas cantata and her disappointment with the unfamiliar song selection.

161. Raquel’s completely irresistible fun streak.

162. Listening to folklore with Jayden and the girlies first thing when I woke up every morning for a while there.

163. Going through Met Gala looks cuddled up with Omar.

164. The way it felt reading Anthropology of an American Girl.

165. The giant primary colors crochet blanket mom made for me.

166. Noah scooping me up in that hug in the Waterloo parsonage kitchen.

167. When Omar completely surprised me with what he can do to a piano.

168. Deciding I am a Pinot Grigio girl.

169. Omfg, the Nest Night we intensely debated our way through a Staff Wives wrestling bracket.

170. Dismantling multiple purity talks and dress codes like it’s my calling.

171. Laying on blankets in the middle of many fields in different places for the sake of being very very very very sunkissed.

172. Regularly running into Bill at Kwik Trip.

#personal

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eleanor-writes-stuff · 7 years ago

Text

Ben catches feelings and decides to take things to the next level with his long-time roommate, close friend, and occasional hook-up. Rey, ever the more sensible half of the duo, decides that they should make sure a relationship between them won’t be a total disaster first.

What they need is a trial run.

Featuring: awkward run-ins with a family member, even more awkward holidays with the whole family, and fluff. So much fluff. All the fluff.

It’s the Christmas Eve episode! Featuring: Luke and Leia being little shits, Luke and Chewie being little shits, and Han’s first appearance. Also, yet another lazy-mornings-in-bed scene because what’s the point of winter break if not to sleep in and fool around?

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV Also available on AO3.

On Christmas Eve, Rey and Ben find themselves on the receiving end of a rather rude awakening.

The morning starts normally enough. Rey blinks away her disorientation at waking up in an unfamiliar environment and rolls around to find Ben leaning against the headboard, phone in hand.

“Morning,” she mumbles, even though it’s probably lost amidst the little sounds she makes as she stretches her sleepy limbs. When she opens her eyes it’s to find Ben giving her the softest smile possible, the one she’d never even seen before this week.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he replies, ducking down to press a kiss to her temple as Rey sighs happily. After a while she coaxes her body upright and reaches blindly for the glass of water she’d left on her nightstand last night. Ben sets aside his phone as she moves to join him, and in a blur of reaching hands and sleepy kisses Rey finds herself in his lap.

She lets her eyes close as Ben leans in to rest his forehead against hers, their noses brushing together and his hair falling forward to block out the outside world. “What time is it?” Rey asks, her lips moving against the corner of his mouth.

“Just past nine,” Ben tells her, hands settling on her waist. She hums in acknowledgement, her hazy mind more interested in kissing than speaking, and he gladly obliges. Cliché and corny though it may sound, time ceases to exist whenever she kisses Ben. It used to worry her, the way she could get lost in him for what could have been anything from five minutes to an hour, with no way of telling which it was until she found the will to pull herself away. Now she chases after that oblivion, sinks into it and relishes the fact that she’s allowed to get carried away with Ben, to lose herself in the way it feels to be with him.

And for the longest time she does, she allows herself to lose all sense of time and being and the outside world, until–

“Ben!” Luke calls, his voice mock-stern as he pounds his fist against the door in quick succession. “Ben, you better not be splitting my favorite student in half with that thing!”

Rey’s eyes fly open, and she can’t tell if she’s flushed from kissing Ben or if the heat in her cheeks is a blush brought on by her professor’s implication that his nephew is–

“Go away!” Ben growls right before he tips forward to hide his face in her neck.

Luke bursts into laughter, loud, self-congratulating guffaws that reach their ears even as his voice grows fainter with distance.

“How does he know…?” Rey finally brings herself to ask, even though she’s not quite sure she wants the answer to that question.

Ben lets his head fall back against the headboard with a thud. “Have you heard about the weirdos who insist on using the urinal right next to you even when the rest of the bathroom is unoccupied?”

She nods, the movement slow with trepidation.

“My uncle is one of those weirdos,” Ben announces with a weary sigh, dragging his hand down his face. After a moment he peeks out at her from between his fingers and asks, almost sheepishly, “Did he ruin the mood?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Rey flashes him a smirk as she very, very slowly and deliberately rolls her hips against him just once. “Not for you, obviously,” she points out unnecessarily.

Ben swallows visibly. “And for you?” he rasps, his throat dry.

Rey shrugs. “I mean, they’re going to assume we did anyway, right?” she says, words somewhat muffled as she pulls off her top. “Might as well.”

“Might as well,” Ben agrees and this time, there are no interruptions.

“How nice of you two to finally join us!” Luke crows as they enter the kitchen, earning himself a slap on the arm from a passing Leia.

“Grow up, will you?” Leia snaps at her brother before she turns to them. “There’s some coffee left in the pot, but you’ll probably have to make more. There would have been food left too, if my idiot brother here had just called you two down for breakfast when I asked him to.”

Luke crosses his arms under Leia’s withering glare. “What? You said to wake them up and I did. You never said how.”

Completely ignoring his family, Ben places a hand on the small of Rey’s back and guides her to the far end of the kitchen, where the fridge and stove are. “Eggs sound okay?”

“Eggs sound great,” she smiles, and Ben tells her to go ahead and pull whatever she wants out of the fridge while he hunts down the required kitchenware. The large kitchen – which Rey had found just as intimidating as the rest of the house when she first saw it yesterday – allows them some measure of privacy from Luke and Leia, even though she thinks she can still sense the occasional pair of eyes watching her and Ben as they work around each other with practiced ease.

“By the way,” Leia says a few minutes later, while Ben is cooking up their omelets and Rey is pulling out plates and cutlery. “Your father arrived earlier this morning. He’s out running some errands with Chewie, but he should be back before the party starts.”

“Okay,” Ben shrugs, keeping his back to his mother and his eyes on the stove. When she walks past him to gather glasses for orange juice, Rey discreetly runs her hand along his back and watches the way his shoulders relax.

“What time is the party starting?” she asks Leia in a bid to distract her, and even though Leia’s eyes tell her she knows exactly what Rey is doing, she plays along anyway.

“People usually start arriving at three, but those are mainly constituents and their kids, donors, small business owners – work guests, basically,” Leia explains. “Most of them only stay an hour or two – we’ve had some stragglers in the past, but by seven it’s completely family and friends.”

“And that’s when the real party starts,” Luke chimes in, setting down his newspaper.

Leia sighs. “That’s when Luke gets tipsy,” she corrects her brother with a pointed look, to which Luke merely shrugs.

“Anyway, we’ve still got a few things to do before we’re ready for guests,” Leia tells Rey as Ben plates their omelets. “Just some of the stuff we didn’t get around to last night; it shouldn’t take too long. Oh, and the caterers are coming at noon, so hurry up and eat before they take over this place and kick you out.” As if on cue, Ben hands Rey her plate and they join his family at the table.

While they eat, Rey tries to recall the to-do list Leia had presented her and Ben with after dinner last night, the one they’d both helped her work on until one in the morning. There shouldn’t be much left, just small things like making sure all the off-limits rooms are locked and displaying all of the holiday cards Leia has received.

Later Rey finds that she has severely underestimated the number of rooms there are in the Organa mansion and the amount of cards a well-loved Senator like Leia receives during the holiday season. She and Ben are left to sort the cards – “Ben knows the system,” Leia tells her – and display them around the entirety of the first floor, a task which takes them the better part of an hour.

Rey doesn’t mind. If nothing else, it’s a reprieve from the twins tag-teaming her and Ben with their endless teasing. She tells Ben as much when he apologizes for dragging her into this, and he shakes his head.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ben sighs, carefully arranging a card on the mantel so that the bright, messy crayon scrawl of Leia’s young supporter is clearly visible to all guests – including the majority of the local paper’s staff. “This is nothing. Just wait till my uncle gets drunk.”

She laughs and calls him a drama queen, because how bad can things get?

So, so bad.

To be fair, the first half of the party actually goes pretty well. There’s a moment, early on, when Han walks in through the front doors just as Rey and Ben come downstairs and the tension in the air makes her feel like they’ve stepped on a landmine. But then Han takes one look at their joined hands and his lips twitch with a poorly concealed grin.

“Finally,” he mutters, and when they meet him at the bottom of the stairs he claps Ben on the shoulder, nods at Rey with a smile, and says, “Good for you, kids.”

It’s a major crisis averted, and it’s the only notable moment from the first four hours of Leia’s party. Ben spends most of the afternoon playing the part of the Senator’s dutiful son, and Rey alternates between standing at his side while he makes small talk and hanging out with Luke, who watches from the sidelines and barely ever interacts with anyone.

“Don’t you know anyone here?” she asks her professor at some point, and he shakes his head.

“These are Leia’s people,” Luke says, a small smile lighting up his face as he spots his sister amidst a sea of people, effortlessly winning the hearts of her fellow Alderaanians. “Alderaan has always been her home, but it’s only home to me because it’s hers. You’ve heard the story, haven’t you, about how we were raised separately?”

Rey nods. “She was adopted by the previous Senator Organa, while you grew up with distant relatives in Tatooine.”

“Tatooine never really felt like home either,” the older man confides in her. “For the longest time it was all I knew, it was pretty much my whole world, but it still wasn’t home. You probably know what that’s like,” Luke turns to her expectantly, the way he would in class whenever he knew she had the answer he was looking for.

“I do,” Rey agrees quietly. It’s easy for her to understand Luke’s complicated feelings on Tatooine, easy to compare them to her own feelings on Jakku and Niima House. For so long the orphanage had been both a roof over her head and a cell she couldn’t escape from, and Jakku used to feel like all there was, all there ever would be. It remains a small, desolate town in an endless desert of small, desolate towns, all of them left to suffer the same fate Alderaan had been heading towards before Leia stepped up.

Maybe that’s why Rey has always thought so highly of Leia; some part of her had been hoping, waiting for Jakku to get a Leia Organa of its own, for someone to save the town and all of its inhabitants. It never happened, of course, and eventually Rey grew sick of waiting for someone to rescue her and found a way to rescue herself instead.

But she doesn’t tell Luke any of that, choosing to remain in contemplative silence with him until the next time Ben summons her to his side with a wide-eyed please save me look.

Just a few short hours later, that quiet, contemplative Luke is nowhere to be found. Instead there’s tipsy-bordering-on-drunk Luke trying to be stealthy as he tracks Rey and Ben across the house, waiting for the perfect moment before he bellows, “Chewie, now!”

Ben’s Uncle Chewbacca – the tallest man Rey’s ever met, taller somehow than Ben himself – appears out of nowhere, a feat that should be impossible for a man his size, to dangle a sprig of mistletoe over their heads.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ben groans as Leia’s guests start cheering and wolf-whistling and calling out for them to kiss.

“Leave the kids alone,” Han grouses as he reappears from the kitchen with a glass of whisky in one hand and a bottle of the stuff in the other. Unlike his brother-in-law, however, Ben’s father can actually handle his alcohol, and he shoots Luke a glare eerily similar to the one Rey’s caught Leia directing at her brother throughout the evening.

Luke has the utter gall to look hurt. “I just want to see my favorite nephew–”

“Only nephew,” Ben mutters under his breath.

“–and my favorite student–”

“Then why’d you give me an A minus,” Rey grumbles to herself.

“–be happy together!”

Ben glares at his uncle. “We were managing that perfectly fine without you,” he points out before turning to Chewie. “And you! What are you doing?”

Chewbacca shrugs, obstinately keeping the mistletoe right above them. “Just proud to finally see you with a girl,” he rumbles in that nearly unintelligible accent Rey vaguely remembers encountering in Jakku, the only reason she’s able to understand him at all.

“See, this is why I never come home for the holidays,” Ben mutters. The guests have lost interest at this point, but Ben, Han, Luke, and Chewie are caught in a four-way staring contest that’s getting more ridiculous by the second, and Leia’s disappeared god knows where with Maz so she’s not coming to the rescue anytime soon, and frankly Rey is just done with this.

She braces one hand against Ben’s chest and surges forward to plant a kiss to the corner of his mouth, mindful of his probable discomfort when it comes to overt displays of affection in a roomful of people he grew up around.

“There,” Rey announces, crossing her arms at Luke. “Now go sober up, professor. This is ridiculous.”

Luke’s eyes gleam with mischief and satisfaction. “Oh, I’m not drunk. It’s just so much easier to get my way when I pretend I am.”

And with that, he and Chewie wander off into the next room.

“What just– did he just –” Rey sputters at their retreating forms, turning to Ben once they’ve disappeared.

“I told you it would get worse,” Ben reminds her, albeit apologetically.

Han sighs. “Welcome to the family, Rey. Sorry you had to make the same mistake I did,” he tells her, pressing his glass of whisky into the hand that’s not still on Ben’s chest.

“Mistake?” She asks Ben once his father has left them.

“Falling for an Organa-Skywalker,” he clarifies, equal parts cocky and in disbelief as if he still hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around it. “And getting stuck with the crazy relatives.”

“Please tell me that’s as crazy as it gets,” Rey pleads, leaning into Ben’s side for support.

Ben wraps an arm around her waist to hold her steady. “I wish I could.”

Luke and Chewie try the mistletoe ambush four more times before the evening is up, determined to make Ben and Rey kiss for real – their words, not hers – in front of everyone.

By the time they finally get under the covers, Rey is utterly exhausted and seriously beginning to reconsider her decision to come here. But at least it’s over and done with, right? And it’s just as she told Ben: if their budding relationship can survive this, they’ll be able to make it through anything.

Warmed by the thought, Rey allows herself a sigh of relief as Ben reaches out to draw her to his chest.

“Good night, Ben,” she whispers, her eyes drifting shut.

“Get some rest, sweetheart,” he murmurs against her temple, sounding just as tired as she feels. “Tomorrow we get to do this all over again.”

Rey’s eyes snap wide open in horror.

I feel like I had a little too much fun channeling Mark "Naughty Nephew" Hamill in this chapter and it's really messed with Luke's characterization, so I apologize for that.

Actually I apologize for all 2500+ words of this chapter, because what even was this? You guys were expecting fun shenanigans and your regularly-scheduled fluff, and this madness is what happened instead. I'm so, so sorry.

Berate me in the comments if you must. Or just say hi, that's always nice. And thank you again for the latest round of comments - those always make my day.

See you guys tomorrow, when Han and Ben cause a little ~drama at the table during Christmas lunch.

#reylo #ben solo x rey #ben x rey #kylo ren x rey #kylo x rey #modern au #star wars #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #fic: sign up now for a free trial #my fics

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seriestrash · 7 years ago

Text

A Christmas Movie Miracle

❄ Day Two ❄

A/N: **Complete AU** Riley and Lucas have never met! Zay and Lucas moved to NYC for college.

Summary: Riley is on a mission to find Auggie a very specific toy. After the brunette wanders into the toy shop Lucas works at, he sets out on an adventure to help Riley fulfil her wish list.

Word Count: 3634

❄ ❄

It’s the day before Christmas Eve and a twenty-one year old Riley and Maya have been all over the city looking for a present for Auggie. Riley has spent months trying to find this very specific gift but she’s had no such luck.

They’re currently in a vintage toy store looking around. Maya is pretty tired from all this effort and no results but Riley is still determined.

“Riles, maybe we should just find him something else.” Maya suggests lightly.

“No Maya, it has to be this.” Riley says dramatically.

“We’ve checked every toy store in the city, new and old and we’ve had no such luck. They just don’t make Mister Googly toys anymore.” Maya sighs.

“I know, Maya.” Riley snaps. “But this is our first Christmas without mom and dad and Auggie needs Mister Googly!”

“Okay, Riles I’m sorry.” Maya gives her an apologetic smile. “We’ll keep looking.”

“I’m sorry.” Riley softens.

"It’s okay, Riles.” Maya says genuinely and she makes sure to hold her gaze so Riley knows she understands.

“I’m just hoping for a Christmas miracle like in the movies.” Riley sighs as her eyes scan the shelves of once loved toys. “You know, the ones where everything is okay in the end?”

“Yeah and add in a ridiculously fast tracked love story.” Maya scoffs. “You’ve made me watch three movies this week where the couple say I love you after two days.”

“It’s sweet.” Riley coaxes her head.

Maya crinkles her nose in mock disgust but quickly breaks with a smile. “I’m going to ask someone at the counter if they know the toy or not. Why don’t you look in that bucket of stuffed animals?” Maya suggest and Riley nods. The brunette walks towards the big cylindrical bucket and starts sifting through the plush toys.

Maya approaches the counter where there’s a guy sat with his feet up reading a magazine.

“Ahem.” The blonde clears her throat loudly and the store clerk looks up from the pages. Once he meets the pretty blue eyes of Maya his attention was all hers.

“Well hello, Miss.” He grins wide. “I sure hope I can help you today.”

“Zay.” Maya reads his tag, “I don’t have time for games. I’d like to know if you have a Mister Googly plush toy in this store anywhere?”

“A Mister what?” Zay questions with crinkled brows.

Maya lets out a frustrated sigh. “The little monster from that old kids show. He’s fluffy, he’s blue, and he’s made just for you, he’s your foogly boogly best friend.” Maya sings the little jingle.

“That’s adorable.” Zay says with a smirk.

Maya was beyond done before even entering this store but now she was just annoyed with Zay’s less than helpful flirting. Maya reaches forward and grabs a tuff of Zay’s shirt. She yanks him forward and holds his stare, “I’ll tell you what’s adorable, finding me that stupid toy monster. You see that pretty little brunette behind me? She’s my best friend in the whole wide world and if she wants a Mister Googly toy than I’m going to find her a goddamn Mister Googly toy!”

Meanwhile, Riley’s searching through the stuffed toy bucket when she’s approached by an employee that looks about her age. "May I help you with anything, Miss?"

Riley meets his green eyes and gives him a shy smile. She notices his tag reads ‘Lucas’. "I’m looking for a Mister Googly doll.”

“Like that kids show from a while back?” Lucas questions.

Riley nods and pulls out her phone, she brings up a picture of Auggie when he was younger and she zooms in on his beloved toy.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recall us having any of those in store We had one a few months back but it sold.” Lucas frowns and when Riley’s face drops he really wishes he could have told her he did have the toy. “I’m sorry.” He says again.

Riley’s halfway through telling Lucas it’s alright when she hears the scuffle Maya was in with Zay.

“Oh no.” Riley shrieks as she looks at Maya with a tuff of the other employees shirt in her hand.

“Oh wow.” Lucas says now looking over at it too and they both scurry towards their respective best friends.

“Maya stop!” Riley calls over and the blonde releases Zay with a sigh.

“You know her?” Lucas asks.

“She’s my best friend.” Riley says simply.

“He’s mine.” Lucas adds in the same manner.

“Maya you can’t go around roughing up the employees of every toy store we visit!” She quietly reprimands her friend.

“Well lover boy over here wasn’t being very helpful.” Maya folds her arms.

“In my defence you didn’t really give me a chance-” Zay stops when Maya shoots him a mean glare. “A chance to be helpful!” He defends.

“It’s alright, Maya they don’t have it.” Riley says solemnly and again it hurts Lucas to see this stranger like that.

“Have you tried Tim’s toys on-”

“Yep.” Riley nods.

“Toy empori-”

“Yes.” Riley nods again. “We’ve scoured every toy store in New York City and had no luck. I think I should just give up.”

“But Riles, what about your Christmas miracle?” Maya wears a frown.

Riley just shrugs sadly and turns to the two employees. “Thank you for your help.”

The girls only get a few steps away before Lucas calls out for them to wait. They stop and turn their attention back to the Texan.

“I know a guy who comes in from Cape May, he collects toys.” Lucas says.

“Weirdo.” Maya mumbles under her breath but Zay heard and chuckles.

Lucas heard too so he gives a simple explanation. “He collects and sells them for profit. If you just wait a second I can call him and ask if he knows where you could get a Mister Googly doll?” Lucas poses it as a question to gauge if she’d even be interested in that.

“You’d do that?” Riley’s eyes sparkle with hope. “Thank you so much.”

Lucas steps off to the side for a minute and calls his contact. He returns to tell Riley that he does have a Mister Googly doll that he’s selling but she’d have to go to Cape May to pick it up because he won’t have time to post it nor would she even get it on time if he could.

“Cape May is nearly a six hour round trip and probably even longer on the bus.” Riley frowns.

“Lucas has a car!” Zay chimes in and his best friend gives him a concerned ‘what are you doing?’ look. “Lucas, let the nice ladies borrow your car.” Zay adds with his trademark smirk.

“Borrow my car?” Lucas laughs.

“We can’t borrow his car.” Riley laughs too.

“We also can’t drive.” Maya says truthfully.

“Lucas, drive the nice ladies to Cape May.” Zay says in the same positive tone he used when talking about lending the car to them.

“No.” Riley shakes her head. “No thank you.”

“Riles, you should go!” Maya is surprisingly supportive of the idea. “I promised my parents I’d endure a Santa photo with the mini Hunters this afternoon but you can go.”

Both Riley and Lucas tug each of their best friends off to different sides.

“Zay, what are you doing?” Lucas asks him quietly.

“You’re clearly into her.” Zay says. “I’m being a good wingman!”

“What makes you think I’m into her?” Lucas scoffs and he’s honestly not fooling anyone.

“The second that pretty brunette looked at you with those sad eyes you just had to save her. You want to help her, so help her!” Zay says. “It’s not like we’re doing anything exciting for Christmas.”

Over with the girls, Riley’s giving Maya a quizzical look. “What are you doing?”

“I’m helping you find Auggie’s gift like I promised.” Maya says simply.

“You’re trying to get me to go on a road trip with a stranger.” Riley eyes her. “He could be a serial killer or something!”

“He’s a harmless Huckleberry.” Maya swats the air. “You yourself said you want the Christmas movie miracle, this is it! A stranger who’s going to help you get the gift you’ve spent months searching for.”

Both Riley and Lucas seem to be swayed by their respective friends arguments and when they all meet in the middle together they just nervously look at each other.

“I couldn’t ask you to drive nearly six hours for me.” Riley shakes her head.

“You don’t have to ask.” Lucas says. “I want to help.”

“Really?” Riley asks dubiously.

“Really.” Lucas nods.

“Okay. Sure.. Why not?” Riley laughs in disbelief that she was about to embark on this adventure with a complete stranger.

“Zay can cover my shift here and we can go now if you’re ready?” Lucas asks.

“Yeah I’m ready.” Riley nods.

As the two get ready to leave Maya stops Lucas. “Just checking that you’re not a serial killer, right?”

“No Ma’am.” Lucas laughs.

“Good. Cause if you lay a finger on Riley, I will hurt Zay far worse than you could ever imagine.” Maya says seriously.

“You have nothing to worry about.” Lucas says nervously. For such a small girl she sure was scary. “But I think Zay should be afraid..”

“I kinda like her.” Zay admits with a smirk and Maya rolls her eyes again but she’s trying really hard to suppress her smile.

Lucas leads Riley to where his car is parked. Riley’s feeling anxious about the situation, not that she felt in danger but she could be awkward around new people if she overthinks things which she was currently doing.

There is awkward small talk for the first twenty minutes of the drive. Like Lucas asking which radio station she’d like to listen to and him checking if the heating in his car was warm enough or not.

Finally Lucas decides to address the awkwardness head on. “This is weird right?”

“Totally weird.” Riley says with a relieved breath that he brought it up. “I mean I am so appreciative that you’re helping me - on Christmas Eve of all days! - but we don’t even know each other.”

“Okay then, let’s change that.” Lucas says. “Let’s play twenty questions?”

“Alright.” Riley gives a single nod. “You ask first.”

“Okay.” Lucas thinks for a moment. “Have you always lived in the city?”

“Yes, I was born here and I go to Columbia University so I’ve stayed.” Riley answers.

“Ivy League. Nice.” Lucas says in an impressed tone. “Okay, your turn.”

“You’re from Texas?” Riley questions.

“Yes, Zay and I both are.” Lucas explains. “We attend NYU together.”

Twenty questions was the perfect way to defuse the awkward tension in the air. They very quickly establish an open line of communication and the back and forth questions fade out without either of them noticing and suddenly they’re just discussing parts of their lives with each other.

After nearly two hours of driving Lucas asks something that changes the mood. “I feel like I haven’t asked the obvious question.”

“What’s that?” Riley asks.

“Why does this particular toy mean so much to you?” Lucas questions.

Riley shrinks into the passenger seat slightly. “It’s important to my little brother Auggie, he accidentally donated his childhood one to Good Will at he beginning of the year.” Riley gives only half of her true explanation.

“How old is your little brother?” Lucas asks.

“Sixteen.” Riley says and she looks directly out the windscreen.

“Older than I was expecting.” Lucas thinks aloud.

“It was a gift from our parents when he was little.” Riley says still keeping her gaze forward. “We lost them both just after New Years in a car accident.”

“Oh Riley, I’m so sorry.” Lucas is shocked and genuinely upset for the girl.

Riley just shrugs a shoulder. “My Uncle Shawn moved into our apartment with his wife and two youngest children - Maya’s family - It was so I didn’t have to stop going to college.” Riley explains, “But I still feel responsible for him.”

“You’re his big sister.” Lucas says in an understanding way.

Riley nods. “I used to have this bear when I was little, Auggie bit the face off him but I still loved it more than anything because my parents gave him to me.” Riley half smiles. “When I was about fifteen, Beary the Bear Bear went missing and I tore our whole apartment to shreds looking for him but he was gone. I was devastated then and that was long before the accident and I’d still do absolutely anything to have my faceless teddy bear back.” Riley looks to Lucas for a second and he looks back at her for a moment before they both break to look down the road ahead. “Mister Googly is Auggie’s Beary the Bear Bear. It might not be his exact one but I’ll do anything to get one back for him.”

“Well you’re in luck.” Lucas says with a small smile. “We’re going to get you that monster and you’re going to be home in time for dinner.”

Riley gives Lucas a small smile but then gazes out the window for a while as the thought of her childhood memories made her miss her parents.

Shortly after, Lucas stops for some gas and buys a few snacks for the road. They make it to Cape May just after half two. The pair chat out front of Bill’s [Lucas’ contact] building whilst they wait for him to come back from work.

Once Bill finally arrives he lets them up into his apartment which is filled with toys, thus giving the place a creepily eerie feel. Subconsciously Riley sticks close to Lucas whilst they’re in there. The man goes off into another room to retrieve the toy and Riley and Lucas both exchange funny glances to communicate that they’re both just as weirded out as the other in that apartment. Their gazes are broken when Bill seems to be having an argument with someone. Moments later he returns to the living space with a red face. He explains that his roommate sold the Mister Googly whilst he was at work.

When Riley hears this, she’s absolutely crushed. She’d just driven nearly three hours under the false security that she had finally found the gift she was searching for.

Bill is sympathetic to the couple for driving so far and he tries his very best to help them out. He offers them a hot beverage each whilst he calls a few of his contacts and tries to source them another Mister Googly.

Finally Bill finds one. “I have a guy in Dover, New Hampshire, he’s got the exact doll you’re looking for in perfect condition.”

“Dover?” Riley frowns. “That’s nearly an ten hour round trip on the other side of New York.”

“How important is it to have for Christmas Day?” Bill questions.

“Very.” Riley’s frown remains.

“The best I can think of is priority shipping on the 27th or if you were to drive and pick it up.. You might be tired but I think you’ll make it.”

“I’m supposed to take Auggie ice skating after dinner.” Riley chews nervously on her bottom lip.

Lucas thanks Bill even though he was annoyed that Bill messed them around a little and he takes the other collectors details so they can work out their plan of attack in the car.

“I’m just going to have to give it to Auggie late.” Riley says sadly.

“I know that kind of sucks but you will be giving it to him.” Lucas says encouragingly. “And I know I don’t know him but I imagine Auggie would rather you be home for Christmas than given the perfect gift.”

Riley gives Lucas a small smile and they set off for New York. Lucas tries to lift the mood by poorly singing along to Christmas carols on the radio and it works for a while but the closer they got to New York the more upset Riley felt about returning empty handed.

Lucas drops Riley off at her apartment building and apologises that things didn’t work out the way they hoped. She tries to fake a warm smile as she thanks him for his efforts and even though she genuinely was thankful she failed at masking the disappointment. Lucas just sits and watches her sadly walk inside and he absolutely hated that. He looks at the collectors information that sat on a piece of paper on his dashboard and he thinks for a moment… Could he?

The following day is Christmas and Riley was still bummed about her gift being late but she was happy to spend time with Auggie and the Hunters. Their first Christmas since losing their parents was always going to be tough but it did really bond them together as siblings. Also having Maya there to lean on helped and the excitement of her younger siblings being true Santa believers really gave Riley a lot to enjoy throughout the day.

Katy was preparing a big lunch for the family when she realised she was out of eggs. Riley offers to go down to the bakery - which is now under Katy’s full-time management - and collects some. She makes Auggie tag along with her so they can regroup for a moment away from the Hunters whom - as sweet as they were being - were completely smothering the Matthews children as they tried to make this holiday less upsetting without Cory and Topanga.

Whilst Riley is out Lucas pulls back up to Riley’s apartment. He gets to the buzzer and realises he doesn’t know what number she is so he just hits random ones and asks whomever answers. Each time he apologises for interrupting their day and wishes them a Merry Christmas.

“Lucas?” Riley’s asks surprised as she approaches with a carton of eggs in hand.

Lucas finishes apologising to the person on the other end of the intercom and excitedly steps towards Riley and the boy he assumes is her teen brother.

“What are you doing here?” She asks with a confused look.

“Special delivery.” Lucas says as he picks up a present he sat down when he was using the intercom.

She gives him a dubious look like surely he didn’t…

“Auggie Matthews I assume?” He turns to the teen.

“Yes…” Auggie is confused about the situation too.

Lucas hands the gift wrapped box to Riley and gives her a nod. She gives Lucas another look like she can’t believe what’s happening but at the same time she was so thankful it was.

“Auggie this is for you.” Riley says and suddenly she’s nervous for his reaction.

“But you already got me a ton of gifts.” Auggie coaxes his head. Riley had got him a ton of gifts, whilst she was searching for this particular present she had complied others she thought he may like too.

“This one is one I wanted to give you most.” Riley says as she wiggles the box, begging him to open it.

Auggie unwraps the gift and is at a loss for words when he pulls out a Mister Googly doll. He’s so genuinely touched by the gift but he tries to play it off as cool because he didn’t want to be a weeping sixteen year old boy. Riley notices his struggle so she helps bail him out.

“Why don’t you take these eggs up to Katy and help with lunch? I’ll be up in a minute.”

He nods and goes to enter the building but stops to give Riley a tight embrace. "Thanks, Riles.”

“You’re welcome, Augs.” Riley whispers as she hugs him back. After they part Auggie coughs to shake off the feels and heads inside.

Riley turns to Lucas with a look of disbelief on her face. “Did you really drive to Dover for Mister Googly?”

“I did it for you.” Lucas chews on his bottom lip.

“You already drove me to Cape May and back… and then you drove to Dover and back on your own?”

“I made Zay come with me this time.” Lucas shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I slept a little bit first so it was responsible.” Lucas adds cutely.

“But why?” Riley questions. “You met me all of twenty-four hours ago. Why go to all this trouble?”

"Maybe it’s because it’s the season of giving… Or maybe it’s because I think you’re really pretty and sweet and I just wanted to see you smile…” Lucas gushes. “I just wish I could have brought you your faceless teddy bear back too.”

Riley leans forward and closes the space between their lips with a soft kiss. When they part lucas is left with a smile on his face and his eyes remain closed for a moment. Once they open slowly he asks, "What was that for?”

“Thank you.” Riley says wearing a sweet smile of her own.

“Do you thank everyone like that?” Lucas lets out a breathy laugh.

Riley rolls her head forward with a quiet giggle. “Do you want to come inside for lunch?” Riley asks after meeting Lucas’ gaze again. “Or some coffee at least you must be exhausted from all that driving.”

“Auggie won’t mind?” Lucas asks and he’s still reeling from their kiss.

“I’ve practically smothered him all day, he’ll welcome the distraction.” Riley laughs.

“Well in that case, I’d like that very much.” Lucas grins. “But Zay’s kind of waiting in the car…”

“Go get him.” Riley smiles. “Let him come in and bug Maya or something.”

“It is the time for togetherness.” Lucas shrugs innocently and Riley smiles.

Maybe it was a miracle or fate or the universes will, but whatever it was, Riley was thankful that she walked into that toy store yesterday.

End Notes: I know I said I was going to post my one shot about the do good foundation but it’s over 6000 words long so I thought I might save that for now!! Anyway! I hope you enjoyed this one shot ! My apologies Cory and Topanga RIP. Also a lil bit of Zaya for you dears dskjlhg

here’s the anon that inspired this piece;

I’ll see you lovelys tomorrow!

#rucas #rucas au #rucas fic

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