#my mom had them made for christmas as a gag gift and i wear them always my ANGELS !!!!!

[pancakehouse]

nobody in this bookstore knows i’m wearing socks w my puppies faces on them 😇😇😇

[genesisrose74]

Christmas With the Karasuno Boys (HC’s)!!

Part 2: Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Kinoshita, & Narita

Part 1 (Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Nishinoya, Tanaka, & Ennoshita) here!

A/n: Tumblr said my word count was too much so I’m splitting this bad boi up into two parts :p Enjoy!!

*****

Kageyama

This boy has a secret soft side for Christmas istg

He HATES showing it to other people on his team and shit

But holy bejeezus he is mesmerized by the holiday in every way possible

Lights, sweets, snow, just like,,, the general magic of December is the most awe-inspiring thing to him

Since he is still a sporty and pretty active mofo, you decided to fuel that on your holiday-themed date as Kags had noted that he’d never gone sledding before

Your jaw was on the FLOOR when he first told you because he would 10000% enjoy the hell out of it

And so you dragged him out to this popular sledding hill that you frequented as a child and taught him what to do

Not gonna lie, he was kind of nervous

“Well you’re experienced at it. I don’t wanna mess up”

🥺🥺🥺 bubby

“You won’t, Tobio! I can already tell you’re gonna be a sledding pro”

Feels a little better after that, but he asks you to help him out for his first run down the hill

He sits behind you with his arms secured snugly around your waist and his head nestled on top of your shoulder

Which would probably seem really funny to passerby because this boy is tol and intimidating in most other situations

As soon as the sled started down, Kags tightened his grip and made this cute little yelp of surprise

But you were laughing insanely hard at the combination of going really fast downhill whilst also having your boyfriend cling to you for dear life

And then when the sled stopped safely at the bottom he started to chuckle

FULL ON, GENUINE SOUND OF ENJOYMENT

That shit is rare

Y’all stayed at that hill for half the day because it was so fun

You got him a new, very high quality athletic roller for Christmas because his old one was just not cutting it anymore

And you also gave him this really cute bracelet with a volleyball, his jersey number, and a little strawberry milk set of charms attached to it

It matched this really pretty and subtle chain he’d bought for your birthday

His blueberry eyes got all wide with affection dfjdskfjsdk—

Got super blushy and couldn’t get a handle on his speech for a fat minute

He thinks you’re the coolest person ever no I do not take criticism

Geez you’re both adorable together, ideal “stoic boy becomes warmer during the holidays around his love” movie plot and I love it

Hinata

He is all in on Christmas. Not a chance this boy doesn’t get excited as hell

Will openly go into holiday mode as soon as November is over

Was secretly already listening to his Christmas playlist before then

He is one of the sweetest gift givers, that is FACTUAL

If you want something really badly, he will take notice and get it as your present immediately

He’ll also gift you an extra thing that’s handmade 🥺

Like some pastries that his mom helped him make, or a specially made basket of soaps with your favorite scents in it

It’s absolutely adorable and you cherish those ones especially

Is happy if you simply get him something; mans doesn’t care what it is

New practice volleyball? A brand new sweatshirt? Elated either way

You had seen an advertisement for a friendly match between Japan and Poland’s men’s volleyball teams, so you waited online on the ticket sales website until the minute it opened

Spoiler alert: you got some banger seats 😌✨

Shoyo may or may not have tackled you when he read the ticket details, letting out his excited giggle (you know the one)

“I can’t believe you got these, angel! You’re coming with me, right? You’ve gotta! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Gives you sweet little kisses between each individual ‘thank you’

“Of course I’ll go with you, Sho! I’m really glad you like it!”

He will give you the brightest smile of all time — that shit makes Christmas lights pale in comparison

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

RIGHT BACK AT YOU BBY

Hold his hands to warm up together when temperatures drop pls :)))

It’s become a weekly December tradition to watch a Christmas movie with Natsu at the Hinata household

She’ll sit in your lap while the three of you are cuddled under a blanket together, and Shoyo will lace his fingers with yours all discreetly

In conclusion, I am a sucker for holiday Hinata 🥺🥺🥺

Tsukishima

His room is decorated to the very minimum simply because his mom and brother had insisted on him being festive

You know those holiday instrumentals that are really calming and jazzy and stuff? Yeah, that’s the only Christmas music he will tolerate in his house

While he’s still got his usual icy demeanor, this blond bitch does get slightly less snippy with the Karasuno boys

Is always on the nose with getting you the exact thing you wanted for a present

Like,,, TO THE SMALLEST DETAIL

You don’t even have to bring that shit up beforehand, he just KNOWS

“Tsukki, how did you—?”

“It’s pretty obvious, with the way that one ad kept showing up on your phone.”

b r u h

How does he pay such good attention without even letting on??

As for his own present, you’ll usually get him two: one gag gift and one more serious gift

His dino plush collection size is partly due to the former’s contributions this time of year

Yes the dinos have names

You exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve with all the team (you made him go) and he saved your more serious one for last

It was a scarf that you’d gotten custom made, which had a Spotify code knitted into the fabric

Scanning the code opened the app to a playlist you’d created especially for him

He got pretty quiet when figuring it out and scrolling through the playlist

Would let out a certified Tsukki Nose Exhale™ when he came across certain songs

The more subdued reaction was expected because it’s Tsukishima

His little chuckles and warmer eyes were enough of a giveaway to tell you he very much enjoyed your gift

But on the walk home, he took the scarf and wrapped it around you both, and then brought his arm around your waist

“Thank you.”

You deadass almost combusted because it was so unexpected??

“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas, Kei”

Way to respond calm and collected 😌👍

But on the inside your body was in freak out mode

He wears the scarf all the time jdfsklfjdsk

Yamaguchi

Take the most tooth rotting fluff you could imagine

And then double that and put a fucking cherry on top

That’s the equivalent of what Christmas is like with Yama Yama

Y’all are like kids in a candy store — literally

For your Christmas dates it’s all about sweets and shared giggles, so frequent trips to the candy and baking isles of the grocery store is a must

Making gingerbread houses, peppermint tasting (mostly trying those different and wild ass candy cane flavors), you name it and it’s there

Stomach aches? I don’t know her

Yeah you do but they go away with enough butterfly kisses 🥰

Tadashi is exceptionally good at decorating gingerbread houses for whatever reason

He put a poll on his instagram between yours and his final products and he won by a landslide

It’s not like yours was necessarily bad, more like he’s just an icing master

You also might have eaten too many gumdrops which left your rooftop lacking in ✨spice✨

But it’s okay because Tadashi donated some of his leftovers to you

He’s such a sweetheart uwu

Please for the love of everything get him something heartfelt as his present

You know those long distance bracelets for couples?

Basically if your s/o taps the icon on the bracelet it’ll send a little vibration to the other person’s as a notice that you’re thinking about them

This boy seeks constant reassurance, and you love to give him his deserved love and validation, so it was the perfect present

It takes a second for him to figure out what it is, but after reading the directions and testing it out, the most adorable smile erupted on his face

And then since you already had yours on, he tapped the little icon again with a giggle

“Hey there”

It becomes common habit to tap it at least once every couple hours

GOD HE IS SO CUTE

He is just so soft this time of year, give him all the love and he will return it tenfold ☺️

Kinoshita

This boy is absolutely an awkward cutie and an avid romantic

Give him the cliches and he will eat em up, no doubt

It naturally gets more apparent around the holidays

He’ll take you on pretty winter walks, give you lots of little gifts (while blushing a hell of a lot), and is just a professional at stumbling upon some mistletoe

Wow wonder how it got there, Hisashi

He’s quite a bit more confident when simply alone with you than in a crowded space

And that definitely shows when he takes you out on a secluded sleigh ride around town

Yeah you heard me

A fuckin’ sleigh ride

Horses and blankets and everything

Don’t even ask how he managed to pull it off, because he loves watching the cogs turn in your head and simply will not give you a straight answer

Of course there’s the nice driver guy who’s there, but in the back alone Kinoshita’s confidence goes 📈📈

Lots of flirting, tons of skimmed touches and shared giggles throughout the ride

I legitimately simp really hard for him

Anyways it was a gorgeous ride through town and super fun

On Christmas Eve you both exchange gifts together and tbh whatever you got him will leave him happy and flustered regardless

But when he opens the wrapping paper to find an entire set of vintage VHS tapes, he’s stunned

He owns a VHS (actually canon!) and honestly loves it to death, and the fact that you’d get him tapes of pretty high quality for his collection meant a lot

Gosh he’s so underrated but a definite sweetheart, give him all the holiday love

Narita

Another underrated bby 🥺

He’s so chill and is pretty open to anything during the holidays, so long as he gets to spend ample time with you, his friends, and his family

Definitely more of an indoor person despite being accepting of most situations

Hence why you thought a cute little indoor winter picnic would be right up his alley

Which it absolutely was 😌✨ nice work

You’d made plans while in secret communications with his family members about the whole thing

He’d been pretty stressed lately with trying to handle his schoolwork, while also helping out others with theirs

Despite being a wonderful tutor, it was clearly becoming a bit overwhelming as he tried to grapple with so much at once

So when he came home one day to find a pristine house with you settled on a blanket in his living room, he was quite surprised

There’s a cheese plate, soda cans in a cute ice box, sandwiches, snacks, a presparked fireplace — you and his family went all out

Really adorable I cannot lie

“I thought you said you were going gift shopping today?”

“I might have maybe lied :P”

So he gives the sweetest little smile and sits across from you

Y’all stay there and talk for hours

After finally getting through everything previously laid out on the blanket spread, you slid him a little rectangular box that he looked at curiously

“Already? I haven’t wrapped yours yet!”

“Mine can wait a bit! Just open yours”

And so he does, and you watch with a face-splitting grin as he looks down in awe

You got tickets to see his favorite rock band in concert while they were on tour

He sprung onto you and pulled you into the tightest hug ever

“Holy shit you’re the best I love you so much how do you get even more loveable every day—!?!l”

It’s a jumble of words but you’re able to put it together and it makes you giggle

He deadass sprints upstairs to go get your gift and make sure that you feel as equally appreciated as he does

In simple words: wholesome holiday sweetness 🥰

[rookie-ramsey]

Curveball, Chapter 6

Description: Two months after the ski lodge, life throws them a big surprise.

Preview: The words left Sienna’s mouth in a rush. “Olivia’s in labor. She’s in the ER right now. She was in a car accident and isn’t badly hurt, but it triggered labor.”

At that, Ethan felt his heart stop. His throat clenched, suddenly dry with worry. He didn’t remember breaking into a run, but the hallways of the hospital blurred past him as his feet carried him to the ER.

previous chapter

The baby shower began with lunch. Olivia got to go first, making sure to take at least one of everything. She took a seat next to Ethan at the table and leaned against his side as they started eating.

“How does it feel seeing a baby shower in your apartment? It looks like the baby aisle at Walmart exploded in here.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’m more concerned about what the conversation over there is related to.”

She arched a brow, watching curiously as Sienna whispered with Olivia’s mother and siblings and Alan in the corner of the room. “What could our relatives be gossiping about? My sister is writing something.”

“It’s hard to tell.”

After a few minutes, Sienna stood up and grinned. “We’re going to warm up with a little guessing game. I’ll tell a childhood story about one of the parents, and you guys get to guess who it was!”

Olivia couldn’t contain an amused smirk. “I guess this means I get to hear some more delightful Little Ethan stories.”

“Apparently so.” Ethan sighed.

Sienna glanced down at the paper and giggled before reading. “This parent used to wear a white bathrobe and plastic stethoscope and played hospital with stuffed animals. Who thinks that was Olivia?”

Several hands went up. Ethan bit back a smirk as her cheeks flushed a little.

“That’s right,” her mom confirmed. “She waltzed around the house in a little white robe, used every room in the house as a hospital room for her ‘patients,’ and insisted that we had to give them privacy.”

“It sounds like I’m finally getting some blackmail material,” Ethan whispered, earning an eye roll.

“Sure you are. Nothing will ever be more embarrassing than little you making out with your teddy bear.”

Sienna moved onto the next one. “True or false! When Ethan was really little, he had a fascination with Band-Aids.”

“Why do I think that’s true?” Olivia grinned.

“Because it is,” Alan confirmed. “When he was a toddler, all it took was a box of Band-Aids to keep him amused for several minutes. Of course, he put them on everything he could get his hands on. His toys, the furniture… the interior of the car on a road trip.”

Olivia laughed. “That’s adorable.”

“It’s wasteful.” Ethan shook his head, trying not to smile. The game continued for several minutes until people were finished eating.

Curious, Olivia watched as Sienna set out several unlabeled jars of baby food. “What are those for?”

Sienna grinned. “People have to guess the flavor by smelling it or taking a tiny taste if they’re brave enough. Just a heads up, the smells and tastes may not always be accurate!”

“Who goes first?”

“You pick.” Sienna handed her a basket containing slips of paper. Olivia reached it into, digging her fingers through the papers until she picked one. She opened it slowly to increase the suspense and smirked when she read the name.

“Zaid.”

Zaid startled, his eyes widening. “What?”

Amused, Olivia revealed the paper slip with his name on it. “You get to go first.”

Ines laughed and nudged Zaid toward the table. “Do it.”

He sighed. “I should have listened to my conscience and not put my name on that paper. I should have known better.”

Baz rolled his eyes and grinned. “Okay, Eeyore. Be a fair sport and play the game.”

Giving in, Zaid picked up the first jar and took a tentative sniff. He immediately set it down. “Is that supposed to smell edible? Because it does not.” He jotted down an answer on the slip of paper and reluctantly moved to the next one.

Olivia picked the second name. “Bryce, you’re up. Don’t chicken out.”

“You think I’d really back down? Never.” He picked up the first jar and smelled it, wrinkling his nose with uncertainty.

Jackie snorted. “I’ll pay you ten bucks to taste a mouthful.”

“Deal.”

Sienna handed Bryce a clean tongue depressor from the bag of supplies. “Here you go.”

Ethan arched a brow. “Are those from the hospital?”

“We didn’t have enough plastic spoons!”

“Stealing an entire Ziploc baggie of tongue depressors from a hospital that has thousands of them? Badass.” Bryce laughed and dug out a scoop of the baby food. He put it in his mouth, immediately making a face.

“Ten dollars,” Jackie reminded him.

Bryce swallowed it and tried not to gag. “That… was gross. Zaid, I’ll do your clinic hours if you try it.”

Zaid rolled his eyes. “Do I look like a moron? Don’t answer that.”  

After a few more games, they sat down to open the inordinate number of presents occupying their apartment. Olivia grabbed the first one and dug through the tissue paper until she found two tiny sets of pajamas designed to look like scrubs.

“These are so cute!”

Elijah grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Olivia picked a large present from her mom and nudged it toward Ethan. “Open that.”

Ethan removed the paper, exposing a box that seemed to contain some sort of sophisticated trash can. “What in god’s name is this?”

Rebecca laughed. “It’s a diaper genie! It’s basically a fancy trash can that’s supposed to contain the diaper smell inside them.”

“These exist?”

Rebecca chuckled. “Yes, and believe me, you’ll need it. If not for the diaper smell, then to stop them from getting into it when they learn to walk. When Olivia was a year old, she felt like knocking over a trash can full of diapers. Worst mess I ever had to clean up.”

“Really, Mom?” Olivia groaned. She opened the next present, which was from Sienna. She opened it and grinned as she dug out two stuffed dolphins, as well as two little onesies with dolphins on them.

“What do you think?”

“I love them!” Olivia folded the tiny outfits and put them back in the bag. She opened several more gifts, collecting plenty of clothes, diapers, and other necessities. When she opened the present from Baz, she giggled and held up the four matching sets of Christmas pajamas.

Ethan stared at them, his expression blank. “It’s October.”

Baz grinned. “So?”

“These are perfect. And I will make it my life’s goal to get Ethan to wear his.” Olivia gave Ethan a pointed look, wordlessly telling him he would not win the argument even if it wouldn’t happen for another two months.

Once most of her guests had left, Olivia curled up on the couch and rummaged through the gifts. Bryce and Sienna stayed to help her family clean up while Ethan helped her sort through their presents.

“I think this is my favorite.” She held up the picture frame from Alan, containing a copy of one of their sonograms and an empty slot they would use for a newborn picture when the twins were born.

Ethan thumbed through the customized journal from Naveen. His other hand subconsciously rested on Olivia’s stomach, and a moment later he felt the now-familiar little kick against his palm.

Olivia smiled, lightly placing her hand on top of his. “I don’t think you’ll ever know how cute you are when you do that. I don’t even think you realize you’re doing it half the time.”

“I guess it’s become an instinct.” Ethan slipped his arm around her.

“A cute instinct.” She gave his hand a squeeze. Stifling a yawn, she rested her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe it’s already October. By December, they’ll be here. I feel like it’s gone by fast and slowly at the same.”

Nodding in agreement, Ethan pressed a kiss to her head. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Opening presents and eating is a lot of work when you have two people inside of you.”

He chuckled and drew her closer to his side. “I’m sure it is.”

Olivia draped her arm across him and snuggled into his chest. A mischievous smile lifted the corners of her lips. “I never thought I’d see Dr. Antisocial Ramsey attending a baby shower.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “You forget that I’m capable of surprises.”

XXXXXX

It didn’t take long for maternity leave to give her cabin fever.

Since twins were almost always born earlier than expected, she scheduled her C-section for the 37th week. Even that was pushing it, but she wanted to let them develop as long as possible.

Halfway through her fourth episode of House, her phone chimed with a message from Ethan. She picked up her phone and grinned when she saw a picture of two baby onesies, each with the caption “Relax, my parents are doctors.”

She grinned as she looked at the picture to see that the onesies were blue and green to match Edenbrook’s logo. She typed a response, glancing at the time and realizing she would need to get ready for her appointment soon.

As she showered and dressed, a kick in her abdomen reminded her of just how soon their lives would change.

XXXXXX

As 1:30 approached, Ethan slipped out of his office to meet Olivia for her 35-week appointment. He pocketed his phone and car keys and made his way toward the elevator.

“Ethan!”

Ethan stopped, turning at the urgency of the voice behind him. He frowned, seeing Sienna rush toward him. “What happened?”

The words left Sienna’s mouth in a rush. “Olivia’s in labor. She’s in the ER right now. She was in a car accident and isn’t badly hurt, but it triggered labor.”

At that, Ethan felt his heart stop. His throat clenched, suddenly dry with worry. He didn’t remember breaking into a run, but the hallways of the hospital blurred past him as his feet carried him to the ER.

He made his way to the closed curtain in the corner and shoved it aside, finding Olivia resting on the bed with Bryce standing at her side. She held an ice pack to her bruised temple, clutching her stomach with her other hand.

Olivia looked up, her eyes wide with panic. “Ethan, it’s… it’s too soon for this to happen! I’m not supposed to have the C-section for two more weeks! My… my water broke in the cab…”

“Shh…” Unsure if he was trying to calm himself or her, Ethan took her face into his hands and met her worried eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay. I want you to take a deep breath and focus on me. Okay?”

Breathing shakily, she tried to take a deep breath. The heart monitor next to her beeped sharply, indicating her rising blood pressure. She winced when a contraction tore through her.

Ethan looked up, forcing his voice to remain steady for her sake. “Lahela, who’s on the OR floor right now?”

“Tanaka, but he’s in a heart transplant right now.”

“Scrub in.”

Bryce’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? I’m her friend.”

“Bryce, please. We can’t risk waiting too long,” Olivia pleaded, her voice trembling.

Bryce took one look into his best friend’s panicked eyes and nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Taking Olivia’s hand into his own, Ethan let out a small sigh of relief. “How nervous will you be?”

“More nervous than I’d be operating on a stranger, but I can do it. I promise,” Bryce assured him. “Let’s go.”

Ethan moved to the head of the bed. He kept a firm grip on Olivia’s hand as they rushed to the available operating room. Her hand clutched his tightly, seeking the reassurance. When they reached the OR, she squeezed her eyes shut against the threat of tears.

“Hey…” Ethan’s hand cradled her cheek. “Everything will be alright. Please try to believe me.”

“I’m trying…”

He helped her turn onto her side so she could receive the injection for the spinal block. Olivia gripped his hand, wincing when the needle pierced her skin. She let out a long sigh as Ethan gently turned her onto her back again.

Sensing her need for comfort, Ethan brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Talk to me. Try not to focus on the risks right now. Tell me the likelihood of both babies being fine.”

Olivia’s face furrowed in thought as she wracked her mind. “Babies delivered at 35 weeks have a 99 percent chance of survival, presuming that they don’t have pre-existing conditions.”

Ethan nodded, relieved when she seemed to relax a little. “You’re right. Remember that.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he tried to convince himself to believe his own words. They gave the spinal block five minutes to take effect before transferring her to the operating table.

Ethan’s heart thudded against his ribs as Bryce and the surgical team he’d assembled gathered around, ready to begin. “Please tell me this isn’t your first time.”

“I’ve done one solo and assisted on three. I can do this,” Bryce assured him. He took a deep breath and firmly gripped the correct scalpel. “Ready to make the first incision.”

Ethan rested his hand on Olivia’s cheek. His thumb gently grazed her jaw. “Bryce is starting now. Focus on me and think about the fact that in just a few minutes, the babies will be here and they’ll be fine.”

Olivia leaned into his hand and drew in a long breath. With the numbing agent, she couldn’t feel the incisions. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on Ethan’s fingers raking gently through her hair.

The minutes that passed ticked by agonizingly as she tried to think about anything other than the chance of something beyond their control going wrong. Her racing heart slowed just a little, allowing some of the tension to leave her body when Bryce announced that they were in.

“Everything’s going fine. Just keep hanging in there, okay? I can see the first baby,” Bryce assured her.

“Hear that?” Ethan laced his fingers through hers. “They’ll be out soon.”

Olivia nodded, her movements slowing a little. The monitor next to her beeped as her blood pressure suddenly started to drop, first to a normal rate and then a little lower. Ethan frowned, worry etching his features.

“Her BP is dropping. She could become hypotensive.” He knew the complication was common during cesareans and that there was only a minimal chance of serious risks, but that didn’t stop his heart from racing faster.

Bryce picked up the pace a little, keeping his hands steady as he finished the incision and instructed one of the other residents to place the clamps. “We’re ready to get baby number one out!”

Moments later, a cry rang through the operating room as Bryce removed the first baby. When Bryce passed the newborn to him, Ethan reacted with an instinct he didn’t know he had and immediately cradled his son in his arms.

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat, swelling with affection. Olivia blined groggily before slipping into unconsciousness. His throat tightened with anxiety as he reluctantly surrendered the newborn to a nurse for an examination.

“Olivia.” He firmly patted her cheek, torn between fear and relief when she let out a subconscious groan in response. A minute later, he looked up as Bryce removed the second baby.

For a long moment, time slowed to a crawl when the baby remained quiet. Just as Ethan felt his chest clench with panic, the newborn emitted a loud cry that made him weak in the knees. He held his arms out, accepting his daughter into them. His heart stuttered in his chest as he gazed down at the fussing baby.

He held her for a few moments before letting the nurses take her. His mind swam with mixed emotions as he returned to Olivia’s side.

Ethan waited nervously as Bryce closed her up. A relieved sigh escaped him when Olivia’s blood pressure started to creep towards normal. “Bryce?”

“Yeah?”

“Good work.”

Once Olivia was transferred into a private room, Ethan stepped into the hallway. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and started the call. “Dad? If you’re not busy, you might want to make a trip to Boston…”

“Is everything okay?”

“Your grandchildren were just born. I thought I’d… did you already hang up?” Shaking his head, Ethan slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked up as Naveen approached him, a wide grin on his face.

“I just heard some gossip that my two favorite employees just became parents.”

Ethan nodded, unable to stop a wide smile from forming on his face. Naveen pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight. Ethan returned it, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. “Olivia passed out during the C-section, but she’ll be okay. She should be awake in just a couple of minutes.”

“I won’t keep you from her. I’ll come meet those babies later. You go be with your family.” Naveen released him and squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you.” The smile never left Ethan’s face as he quietly slipped back into the room to check on Olivia and the babies.

His family.

He liked the sound of that.

Next Chapter

Note: This was definitely my favorite chapter so far. Stay tuned for more! 

[c-c-cherry]

What's the most embarrassing thing each of the Bucci gang has done/has had happen to them?

Ok I took WAY too long on this but I loved this question so much and it was so fun coming up with these. Special thanks to my girl @jjadegreen for helping me!!

**This isn’t NSFW but I’d say its teen and up just because of some of the stuff talked about hehe**

______________________

Mista

-Pre-canon Mista was a bit sick one night so Bruno made him stay home while they all went on this one mission

-So naturally he’s like “HELL YEAH HOME ALONE”

-Bruno forgets his wallet and had to come back a little while later to get it and walks in on him wearing the following:

One of Abbacchio’s signature goth dress robe thing

Like 12 of Bruno’s barrettes all sticking to the top of his head

Fugo’s tie

Narancia’s bandana

All while BLASTING K-Pop at full volume in the living room. And our man is INTO IT. This isn’t just some radio coincidence shit, he was SCREAMING the lyrics. He owns the CDs.

-Bucciarati LOSES IT. Mista has never been so mortified in his life and Bruno has never laughed so hard in his life.

-He promises not to tell the rest of the gang but tells him it’s officially blackmail material

-They never speak of it again but at Christmas Mista opens Bruno’s gift and it's a brand new K-pop CD and everyone thinks its just a gag gift but like

-He definitely listens to it later alone in his room

Bucciarati

Bruno Bucciarati does not get drunk for two main reasons:

He blacks out every time

He’s an absolute lightweight

-The last time Bruno got absolutely piss drunk, he was with Abbacchio and it wasn’t even funny. It was just surreal because Bucciarati never lets himself go to such an extent

-For whatever reason Bruno is like “hey I never drink we should go to the bar or something” after a successful mission

-Even though the legal age of drinking is technically 16 in Italy they leave “the kids” home to watch mean girls or some shit

-Mista tags along too because he’s worried Bruno will get drunk and spill about the unfortunate “K-pop incident”

-My man Bruno drank like two beers and was immediately GONE like he got up and got lost in the bar after way too many drinks and ran into a drag Queen with Abbacchio’s hair

-Said drag queen became Bruno Bucciarati’s new drinking buddy

-He stumbles over to the karaoke contest and gets onstage and grabs the shitty bar mic and screams “THIS GOES OUT TO LEONE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MWUA TWO YEARS HONEY~” and Mista is just like 👁👄👁

-Because uhhh they have literally been together for two years but everyone in the gang just thinks its a weird on/off thing because they never talk about it

-He sings dancing queen because its by ABBA and both Leone and Mista are fucking screaming with laughter and Abbacchio is filming the entire goddamn thing

-He buys the entire bar drinks they all love him so much

-Afterwards Leone tries to get them home so he leaves them outside while he takes a piss and when he walks back out THEY ARE GONE.

-Mista thought it would be a perfect time for them to get tattoos because his fucking capo is drunk off his ass and there is no better time

-Mista gets these two giant smoking guns on his back and his ass is in SO MUCH PAIN afterward that he leaves Bruno alone while he’s picking out his tattoo to get ice cream

-When he comes back Bruno has a tattoo ON HIS LEFT FOOT THAT SAYS “Never don’t give up.” The tattoo people tried to correct him but he insisted

-Abba finds them and is just like “jesus god” and takes them all to a hotel because there is no way in hell he’s taking them back home like this

-The next morning Bruno remembers absolutely NOTHING and as the gang admires Mista’s giant tattoo they ask if Bruno got one too and he’s like “god no I’m not that irresponsible”

-As soon as they’re alone Abba’s like “you got one on the bottom of your foot” and you can just see the moment Bucciarati’s soul leaves his body

Fugo

-Ok so if y’all didn’t know Fugo literally canonically wears a thong

-This isn’t sexualizing him (also I am indeed a minor don’t harass me) it's just a fact of life. You do you Fugo.

-So he sneaks out of the house once in a while and goes shopping for them cause our man’s gotta live, you know?

-He pops in the underwear store one day and you wanna know who he fucking passes by in the lingerie section?

-Bruno fucking Bucciarati.

-Which isn’t exactly a surprise considering he’s wearing visible lingerie in his tiddy window outfit but like

-That’s like running into your dad at femboy hooters

-Much to his dismay, the man spots him immediately and there’s just this...awkward silence as Fugo is holding this shopping basket of underwear and Bruno is holding the raunchiest piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life

-They never talk about it again. Fugo finds a different store.

Abbacchio

-The most mortifying moment Abbacchio can live to remember is the first time he told Bucciarati that he loved him

-Pre-canon, our man is NOT having a vibing time

-He gets absolutely wasted with while Bruno’s at his apartment

-He’s the most miserable drunk, so he’s just fucking sobbing and Bucci is sitting there trying to console him and Abbacchio just looks up at him with tears streaking down his face and says “I’m in love with you” and the look on Bruno’s face just makes him feel even more miserable

-The entire night he keeps blubbering about how much he loves him and how much he means to him and how beautiful he is and the entire time Bruno is doing that thing where he tries to cover his face with his hand because our man is mega FLUSTERED up in here

-When he wakes up he remembers EVERYTHING and he wished he didn’t because then maybe he would be able to say that he didn’t mean it

-Bruno is surprisingly just like “Did you really mean it?” and he can’t lie so he just tells the truth and he’s just nonchalantly like “me too”

-Bruno thinks it’ll be a nice wedding story and Abbacchio no longer wants to live on this planet

Narancia

-Mista and Narancia are vibing in the living room one night and Nara tells Mista to grab his gameboy from upstairs

-He says its under his pillow (or else Bruno will take it away every night hehe)

-But you wanna know what else is under Narancia’s pillow? His Diary. No, it’s not a journal or just a blank book, Mista finds a book titled DIARY.

-And the shit in there is priceless.

“Bucciarati is sooo cool. I tried cutting my hair like his, but it didn’t really work. I think I gotta wear this hat for the next couple weeks. Shit. Fuck. If someone takes it off, I’m so fucked.”

“I clogged up the toilet yesterday and was too scared to tell Abba, so I just flushed it again but then the water wouldn’t stop flooding everywhere so I used Aerosmith to explode the toilet and told Abba that it was a stand attack. He believed me. If ANYONE ever finds out, I’m dead.”

“HOLY SHIT. I swallowed a tide pod yesterday and freaked out so I made Giorno turn it into a grape in my stomach with his stand. I almost DIED. But I didn’t so I’m over it. If Giorno ever tells anyone, I’ll kill him.”

-Narancia realizes about ten minutes after Mista left that HOLY SHIT HIS DIARY

-he finds Mista three quarters way through it and gives him $50 not to tell anyone about it.

-The shame never leaves, though

Trish

-Jade gave me a cute headcanon that Trish’s mom was still only teaching her how to properly put on makeup before she died (it's not like there was youtube or anything to teach her either) so our girl Trish only knows the basics

-She puts on lip gloss and blush and mascara and stuff but she’s never even TOUCHED eyeliner and rarely puts on eyeshadow. She doesn’t even wear concealer most of the time (she honestly doesn’t even need to, her skin is baby soft smooth)

-So long story short she kind of misses her mom and remembers how her mom was going to teach her a smokey eye before she died and is determined to teach it to herself now

-So she pulls a little heist and snatches some of Abbacchio’s makeup while they’re all out doing stuff

-She was not prepared for how heavy this shit was. She was used to the lighter, more natural stuff but Abba’s makeup is EXTREME.

-All of his stuff is waterproof so it doesn’t wash off while he’s crying at 3am and it’s just this—dark, heavy stuff.

-She actually hasn’t used a thick, real tube of lipstick before, only those little gloss tubes with the stick because she has smaller lips so when she crouches over with a small makeup mirror in fear of anyone somehow walking in on her and smears Abbacchio’s thick, dark purple lipstick on her lips, she knew she was absolutely fucked. She has no idea how to do this shit, especially not with dark, heavy goth makeup

-The smokey eye does not work. It’s just smeared eyeshadow EVERYWHERE, it looks like she has two giant, awful, black eyes and her first attempt at eyeliner was just—unspeakably horrible

-She has no idea where to start so she just puts on way too much of absolutely everything and immediately regrets it the moment she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror

-Abba comes home early and immediately realizes that some of his makeup is gone and he knows it has to be Trish

-He walks upstairs to confront her but just hears loud, ugly sobbing coming from her room and bursts in only to find her desperately trying to wipe off layers of caked-on water-proof makeup and absolutely failing

-The two of them spend all night taking it off all while Trish is still crying teary apologies to him

-To add in some wholesome Dadbacchio, he teaches her how to properly put everything on the next day <3

Giorno

-Some people forget that as a 15 year old, Giorno sometimes has absolutely no impulse control

-So when Polnareff tells him that he’s the spitting image of his evil, murderous, vampire dad he’s immediately like “haha well I’m gonna go dye my hair now”

-Everyone had something to do that day/night so Giorno waltzes over to the nearest drug store and grabs one of those at-home dying kits (he got dark green cause he thought it would look cool with his new outfit)

-He gets home and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing so he just thinks it’ll work out somehow

-Soooo yeah he does NOT put it in properly at all, he just kind of takes the shit and slathers it all over his hair and doesn’t do his roots and doesn’t put it up and leaves it dripping down his back and stuff and his stupid ass FALLS ASLEEP with the hair dye in

-He wakes up and the sheets are this really awful light green colour but he doesn’t pay any mind to it

-He looks in the mirror and from the front it actually looks good and he gets all excited and decides to wash it out

-When he gets out of the shower it’s this awful disgusting light light ugly green and he almost cries. Almost.

-It looks like someone dunked him in that Nickelodeon slime and he looks at the package and it says the dye will stay in for at least 3 weeks and there aRE TEARY EYES

-He spends the next hour in the shower trying to wash it out. It does not wash out.

-Utterly defeated with his hair matted and donuts practically falling apart, he stumbles over to his room and tries to wash the sheets covered in slime-coloured hair dye which *surprise!!!* doesn’t wash out either!

-He must dispose of the evidence, but of COURSE they’re out of garbage bags so he shoves all the dye kit stuff and the sheets into a mafia body bag and chucks it by the garbage can outside without a single thought

-Which he SHOULD have had a single thought about it, because when they get home and Narancia spots the body bag he’s like “holy shit guys I think Giorno killed someone while we were out”

-So they all panically pop into the house and cautiously try to find Giorno. Fugo finally finds him pacing around his room in the dark and when he flicks on the lights HO-LY SHIT.

-Fugo obviously bursts out into laughter and Bruno books it up the stairs and also starts cackling and Narancia is like “OH MY GOD YOU KILLED SOMEONE LOOKING LIKE THAT?!” and Giorno has to explain to them that the body bag is filled with stained bedsheets (much to his embarrassment)

-Abbacchio takes so many pictures and Giorno is having a nervous breakdown because he cannot live with his hair looking like this

-Bruno makes Abba fix it the next morning and he loves every second of Giorno’s mortification

-The pictures Abbacchio took of that night are framed next to the pictures of Bruno’s wasted karaoke night in his room

______________________

Thank you for the ask, anon!! I’m absolutely exhausted now haha so I’ll scroll through the rest of the asks when I wake up!!

[modecaisnow]

The Best Gift for the Big Guy

**This story contains themes suitable for those 18 years or older. This story contains themes of: Extreme Weight Gain, Farting, Sweating, and Size Difference. No relations in this one. HAPPY NEW YEARS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL MY WATCHERS! (and to those who lurk ☺ )**

Malcolm, a freshman in college, comes home for the holidays hoping for some new workout gear for Christmas. Turns out the bulking powder his parents got him might not work the way it is expected to. Instead, it seems to almost double his weight with each shake! At first, Malcolm is disgusted by the weight gain, and the farting. However, with a supportive family of fitness lovers, and his two older brother's Chris (a heavy weight bodybuilder) and Dan (a fitness instructor), Malcolm might end up falling in love with his size.

Malcolm was the youngest out of three brothers. His older brothers – Chris and Dan, were both out of college and pursuing careers in Health and Fitness. Chris was a heavyweight bodybuilder, and Dan was a fitness instructor – their entire family took fitness very seriously. Malcolm always looked up to his brothers; he especially wanted to become a bodybuilder like his oldest brother, Chris. Malcolm had just finished his first semester at college, and wanted to start exercising so by the time he reached Chris’ age, he could be big like him. For Christmas, Malcolm wanted all new fitness gear: new workout clothes, protein powder, BCAAs, Pre-workout, and bulking powder to help speed up the process. On Christmas morning that was what he got. However, instead of the bulking powder, he asked for, his parents bought him a strange brand from a different country. “It was cheaper, and a worker at the GNC in town suggested it,” Malcolm’s dad said. “That’s okay! I’m sure it’ll work fine!” Malcolm said. Malcolm was never a muscular guy like his brothers. He grew up as the scrawny, geeky kinda kid. He was picked on throughout high school, and when he graduated college he found that people didn’t really seem to notice him when he went out with his friends. This, as well as his admiration for his brothers, is what really pushed him to try and beef up a bit. Right before bed, Malcolm decided to take a scoop of the bulking powder and make himself a shake. After drinking it, he quickly passed out on his full-sized mattress and dozed off into a deep slumber. He woke up the next day feeling heavy all over. His muscles felt strong, but his body was incredibly warm and wobbly. After rubbing his eyes, Malcolm finally woke up and saw that his hands had gotten fatter. Not just that, but so were his arms. Sagging, doughy ones replaced his once boney arms. He quickly threw off the blanket and got a better look at his body. His flat torso was now a landscape of rolls and blubber. His belly button was now a deep cave with a large fold of blubber sagging above it. Malcolm’s chest flopped down over the crest of his belly. He ran his fat fingers over his nipples – they were plump and sensitive. As he hoisted himself out of bed, the frame groaned and the floor creaked slightly. His thick thighs rubbed against each other as he rushed into the bathroom and hopped on the scale. Malcolm leaned forwards and looked over his belly as the scale hesitated and eventually showed the number “423” on the screen. “Holy shit, Malcolm?” Chris yelled as he walked in the bathroom wearing nothing but boxers. His blocky abs flexed as he looked at his now overweight brother. He walked around him and laughed, “Damn! How is this possible? You’re so fuckin’ fat, bro!” “I know!” Malcolm blurted. His now fat-sounding voice took him by surprise. “I’m disgusting!” “Shit…you’re ass puts mine to shame, Malcolm!” Chris put his back against Malcolm’s. Malcolm felt the individual striations of his brother’s gorilla-like back flexing against his wings of back fat. His brother bounced his bubble butt against Malcolm’s fat ass cheeks, making them ripple. Both of Malcolm’s ass cheeks were each double the size of Chris’ muscular, rump.  Malcolm felt an air bubble build in his gut and it slid out his backside. A wet sounding fart spewed out and stunk up the bathroom. Chris gagged, “Shit, bro! That was a nasty one. Anyways, you go put on some clothes, I’ll go get mom.” Malcolm tried to put on some clothes, but nothing fit. Chris broke the news to his family, and they all went to Malcolm to see. They were all shocked at Malcolm’s size. Never in his family history has someone been overweight like that. At 423 pounds, Malcolm was a large boy, he wasn’t the largest in the world, but he was rather big. Luckily, his caring mother decided to take his measurements to try and get him some clothes. In the meantime, they told Malcolm to not use the bulking powder anymore. However, that was all he could think about all day. Malcolm’s mouth watered as he thought about making another shake. Chris was able to find a comically sized speedo that his friends bought him as a joke back when he was bulking. It was meant for someone really large, so he lent it to Malcolm in the meantime. The speedo was bright orange and covered up his fat ass nicely. Some mounds of gelatinous lard sagged down from the bottom of it, and part of his ass crack was exposed out the top, but it worked. Malcolm did his best to cover up his front with the speedo. It was hard to see over his large belly, so he had to just feel around to make sure his junk was concealed. From what he felt, it wasn’t like his junk was really exposed anyway given his fat thighs and sizeable belly, but he tried to hide as much of his fatpad as possible inside the speedo. The front of the speedo dug into his blubbery fatpad right down the middle instead of holding it. He sat on the couch all day with his brothers and played video games. Periodically he would shift over to let out a fart, and his brothers would tease him for the stench. Malcolm would laugh as he would rip a fart on Dan, and Dan would cough and fan the air, making him an easy target in the game. Dan kept saying that Malcolm was cheating by farting, but Malcolm would just elbow him with his flabby arm, knocking Dan over off the couch. That night, Malcolm broke out in a cold sweat. All he could think about was the bulking powder. The taste was euphoric the last time he had some, and he really wanted more. He figured it wouldn’t hurt, so Malcolm hoisted himself out of bed, and waddled off to get another shake. He passed out the minute his chubby face hit the pillow. Malcolm woke up the next day feeling twice as heavy as before. Low and behold, he was. Malcolm lifted up his arms, even more, saggy flesh hung down from them. Even with his arms lifted over his head, he still felt doughy beef flopping against his armpits. He tossed off the sheet and got a better look at himself. Well, from lying on his back, all he saw were his saggy tits that were almost suffocating him, and his massive belly several feet in the air. He rolled onto his side, and his belly sloshed off the side of the bed. His ass fat inched over the opposite end of the full-sized bed. Malcolm huffed and puffed as he rose out of it. The bed frame groaned and sagged painfully. His massive body now flattened the mattress itself. Malcolm panted as he widened his stance and he shifted all of his mass. His belly flopped far over his lap, all the way to his knees. His fat thighs forced his legs to spread apart, and even as far apart as they could go, the folds on the insides of his thighs still swallowed his crotch in deep mounds and warm blubber. Eventually, with a few huffs and puffs, Malcolm made it onto his fat feet. The wooden floor beneath his feet sank downwards and groaned painfully as he waddled out of his room, squeezing out of his door, and into the bathroom. He stepped on the scaled and looked down. No matter how much he tried to suck in his flabby gut or look past it – Malcolm could not see what the number said. He just relaxed his blubbery belly, and let it all hang down. His belly was incredibly heavy, pulling down on him in the front. It sagged down towards his knees, flopping over most of his thighs. When he waddled, his thighs would not only need to swing around each other, but they needed to push against the heavy, flesh skirt that was his belly. Malcolm sighed, as he couldn’t see what the scale said. As he shifted his mass the scale let out a loud series of beeping sounds before snapping in half from his weight. Malcolm’s body ripped and wobbled as his fat feet slammed onto the floor. Malcolm felt a huge pain arise in the pit of his belly. He quickly applied pressure on it, by pushing down with his fat palms. Malcolm then moaned as a long, fog-horn fart belted out from behind him. The bathroom felt slightly warmer as a massive blast of gas polluted the bathroom air. His ass cheeks rippled like pond water as the humid scent spewed out. “Jesus Christ! What’s that smell?” Chris grunted as he waltzed into the bathroom. Chris was wearing nothing but a tight, blue poser. His bubble butt was stretching the back of it. He rubbed his eyes then got a good look of Malcolm, “Holy fuckin’ shit, bro! It happened again?” “Yeah!” Malcolm’s voice felt heavy and thick. It took a lot of energy to continue talking, “I don’t know why!” “It must be that bulking powder. Did you have any more last night?” Malcolm thought to himself. He was starting to like being massively heavy. He was now much larger than both his brothers combined. Malcolm figured he would have to lie, or else his family would throw away the bulking powder if they knew he was still making shakes with it. Malcolm panted, “No…no I didn’t drink any, Chris…” “Hmmm…Well, let’s go tell mom so we can get you some more clothes, okay?” Malcolm agreed. Chris helped guide him out of the bathroom and down the stairs. By the time Malcolm made it downstairs, his face was beat red and was sweating profusely. He panted and flopped down onto the tiny couch. Malcolm easily took up half of the 4-person seater. The cushions were squashed downward and the frame sank. His mom walked in and gasped at the sight of Malcolm’s doughy, naked rolls of blubber. He leaned to the side and ripped a massive fart. His entire body rippled as the blast of air spewed out from behind him. For the entire day, his mother figured out what size clothes he would need by measuring Malcolm. They also contacted a doctor to come to check up on him tomorrow morning. Throughout the rest of the day Malcolm consumed more foods than they could cook, his brother Dan made trips to Malcolm’s favorite fast food joints, and Chris played video games with him all day. Malcolm continued to pull the same tricks he did yesterday by farting on his brother to take his attention away from the screen. Chris would just slap Malcolm’s flabby ass shelf and push back playfully. Being a heavyweight bodybuilder, Chris was quite strong. However, Malcolm, being so substantial and viscous, wasn’t even moved by his brother’s retaliation. His body just rippled and wobbled. The feeling of Chris’ hands sinking deep into his lard felt kinda nice to Malcolm. He loved being so large. Taking up most of the space on the couch felt really euphoric. He wondered how it would be if he got even bigger. That night, Malcolm made himself another shake, but this time he added two scoops of the bulking powder. Right as his flabby body hit the sunken mattress, he passed out. The next morning, it was very hard for Malcolm to lift his hands up to reach his eyes. In fact, his entire face felt heavier. As his eyes opened his chubby facial cheeks blocked the bottom part of his view. He looked down at his flabby hands, which now looked almost unrecognizable. Malcolm’s arms were incredibly heavy. His forearms were now the same size that his massive, flabby upper arms were yesterday. Malcolm’s chest rose and fell with each laborious breath. The floor groaned as he shifted his gigantic mass around. Massive, undulating waves rocked through his body with each subtle movement. Eventually, with some maneuvering, he made it into a sitting position. Malcolm gasped at the sight of his gigantic rolls and folds of doughy flesh. His entire body looked like a gelatinous, tan mountain. He could feel the crushed mattress and bed frame somewhere deep under his gigantic ass cheeks, which spilled out behind and around him by several feet. His belly was now a series of folds piled upon one another with two, sagging tits flopping down the sides. Malcolm could no longer see his fat thighs; he could feel them deep under his massive belly, which spilled around and over them, spilling onto the floor. However, he could feel that his thighs were now covered in gelatinous rolls much like the rest of him. With a massive heave and all his strength, Malcolm rose up onto his fat feet. The ground beneath him groaned painfully and the floorboards popped and cracked. He stomped his way towards his door; his wide body knocked pictures off his walls and pushed his desk and dresser away. The entire room trembled with each movement. As he stood in front of the door, Malcolm noticed it was not just impossibly narrow, but also somewhat shorter than him. He had to sink his already flabby head down into his shoulder blubber. Malcolm then reached his arms through and went through at an angle. His belly quickly spilled out of the doorway, but then mounds of fleshy dough were caught on the sides of the entryway in his bedroom. Malcolm pushed harder and harder. More of his belly oozed out into the hallway along the floor. His ass cheeks rose up higher and higher as he slowly eased his way through the doorframe. The gelatinous consistency of the blubber made it simpler to squeeze through the doorway, but it was still too much flab to get through. The frame cracked and chunks of the wall on both sides collapsed as he shoved in harder. Malcolm ripped a massive fart before sliding out of the hole in the wall. FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHRRRRRRTTTTT His ass cheeks clapped together as a massive blast of hot air spewed out. Malcolm moaned as his entire body jiggled and rippled from the force of the blast. The walls around him all shook violently from the deafening fart. Out of his room came Chris, covering his ears. “Earthquake!” Chris yelled as he stood in the doorway. He quickly gagged and realized what was actually happening. “Oh… my… god!” The family all gathered around as Malcolm’s last farts bubbled out of his blubbery ass crack. Chris and Dan teased him a bit and compared their toned rumps to his massive one. Chris even brushed his tight butt against Malcolm’s and it sank deep into the blubbery flesh. They helped Malcolm down the stairs, which was difficult given his massive belly was sliding along the ground, and his ass cheeks were flopping against the stairs behind him. Eventually, they guided him into the living room, where he parked his gigantic ass down on the couch. Malcolm immediately farted again as his ass cheeks spilled out over the armrests on both sides of the couch. FFFFFFUUUUUURRRRRRHHHHHHTTTTTTT “Nice one, big guy!” Chris said as he elbowed one of Malcolm’s many rolls. The other members of his family all gagged and coughed. “Thanks…I’m getting hungry!” Malcolm grunted. His family quickly went to work on feeding the gelatinous mound of flesh taking up a considerable amount of space in their living room. He continued to fart and rub his doughy flesh, or what parts of it he could reach, as they all continued to gather food for him. Dan tried to get Malcolm to play video games with him, but Malcolm couldn’t quite get his hands close enough together for the controller. Not that the controller even lasted long in his massive, blubbery fingers – it was crushed to pieces almost immediately. Malcolm just laughed it off. His brothers eventually played video games together and Malcolm would just watch. They sat on the ground leaning against the base of his belly. Malcolm would shift to his right or left, making his flab slosh heavily against one side of the couch, so he could fart and let the air escape from deep under his flab. Some of the rancid odors bubbled out from under his belly after being trapped in some of his underbelly lumps. Dan and Chris gagged as the potent fumes polluted the air around them. Soon, the entire house was stained with Malcolm’s rank farts. By the time the doctor came, Malcolm’s body was covered in sweat. The doctor examined every aspect of Malcolm possible and took skin, blood, and sweat samples to run some tests. The doctor also took a sample of the bulking powder. He told Malcolm that the results could take some time, and suggested staying away from any more bulking powder until they find out what caused the sudden weight gain. The doctor floated the idea of scanning Malcolm’s brain to see if there was a pituitary tumor. However, the thought of not only getting the giant blob of doughy flesh out of the house but also squeezing him into a machine made it impossible. The doctor left leaving everyone in the family optimistic. Malcolm, on the other hand, was optimistic about the lifestyle he was going to start leading. Malcolm continued to eat all day long, requesting more and more food. His rolls and folds undulated in powerful waves with every subtle movement. Sometimes the ripples would collide and slap together loudly. He leaned back on the couch and the frame of it gave out one last pop before snapping into pieces. The massive blob of lard flopped to the ground. The entire house shook viciously. Malcolm’s rolls spilled out farther around him, flopping against the back wall and knocking over his brothers who were leaning against his belly. “Mmmpph… my bad” was all Malcolm said. ---EPILOGUE--- Malcolm now lives in the family’s garage. There, he had a huge entrance and exit for when they back up the truck to take him places. It was also well ventilated so he did not need to hold back farts, not that he ever did. The entrance to the house from the garage was also expanded so that Malcolm could still waddle in and spend dinner with the family. Not that he could sit at the table, but he could sit near enough so his belly sloshed against it. Usually, he sat in the living room and for dinner, he would wobble his gelatinous rolls to face the dining room. Malcolm ended up getting clothes that could fit him. He wore a massive, jockstrap, the straps of which squeezed his ass cheeks so much that they could not be seen from all the lard. On top of that, he wore large sweatpants and a massive t-shirt. Both of which were stained with sweat and food grease. Sweat stains had completely soaked the deep ass crack on his sweatpants. Every fold of blubber produced so much heat and sweat that they too stained his clothing. Malcolm spends his days now eating from his trough and farting non-stop. The gas had become so bad, that his brothers had to place a tube in his ass crack to displace some of the farts outside. From the outside, it looked like a smokestack for a factory, but instead of producing smoke it produced a rancid, dark green haze. His brothers also kept him fed the entire day. When his brothers stopped hearing him grunting and snorting from inside the garage, they would come in and dump wheelbarrows full of fattening slop for their brother to eat. Malcolm would then return to shoving his face deep into the trough, letting his folds and rolls spill out all over the cracking, cold cement floor of the garage. His body rocked back and forth as he grunted and oinked loudly while he ate. The force of his blubber’s powerful undulations caused the entire garage to tremble. The life Malcolm started to live was not what he expected. He thought that he would be able to get people’s attention by becoming a large, muscular bodybuilder. Someone that people looked up to, and did not dare mess with. However, he found that gaining mounds of lard had the same results, but it was much easier – no pain, but plenty of gain. Malcolm loved his massive size and was excited for his friends in college to see what he looks like.

[popculturebuffet]

Pinky and the Brain: Brain’s Song Review or Why You Hatin on Bruce Willis? (Comissioned by BlahDiddy)

Hello, Hello, Hello you wonderful people! It’s back to the Animaniacs Cinematic Unvierse for some more pinky, pinky and the brain brain brain brain brain, as I still have those two christmas reviews left in the queue. And since I went over the ins and outs of the characters history last time, we can just get right to it. 

We open in Acme Labs, where Brain, tired of pinky’s antics is trying to a clockwork orange him into being emotionless by having him watch some emotional stuff. We also get some good gags but as usual for coveirng this show I can’t stop and cover every one, but this is a damn funny episode Point is Brain tries showing him things like evil kenivel and prscilla presley’s dear john letter to micheal jackson.. this episode has not aged well in places and we will get to that. Point is Pinky’s already tearing up when we get to a pastiche of the lion king but with tigers, which naturally opens the flood gates.. but in a nice twist it’s for BOTH of them. Brain despite himself can’t help sobbing and leaning into his buddy and the two hug. awwww.  Pinky tells him there’s no shame in it as “No one can resist emotionally manipulative story telling with a sad score.. except maybe g gordon liddy”.. I don’t get that last part, but the rest is really funny and naturally gives brain an idea: to make his OWN emotionally manipulative film. to make people so depressed they can’t do anything and wil lhand him the world. Making a supercut of bojack horseman’s gutpunching moments would be faster but neither supercuts nor that show exist yet so he’s left to instead write a pastiche of the movie Brian’s Song.  Brian’s Song is a tv movie about football players Brian Picollo and Gale Sayers, two star football players in college. According to tv tropes the two start out as rivals, become friends, Picollo helps Sayers recover from an injury.. then Sayers stays by Picolllo’s side as he slowly subcumbs to cancer. I only vaugely remembered it from I love the 80s and that it made people sad. Look i’ll go to the moon and back for comissions, even ones given out as a gift, but I draw the line at watching an entire 70′s tv movie, even with the unstoppably cool Billy Dee Williams starring in it as Sayers. I have limits.. and a best episodes of the year list to work on/watch the last few episodes for. I gotta draw a line somewhere.  That said.. this team knows how to do GOOD parody: i.e. you shoudln’t have to know the thing being parodied to get it, it just makes it even funnier. So while the Brian’s Song parody is lost on me, it still works as schmaltzy sports movies captalizing on real life events never died. SOMEHOW. Please stop hollywood, please, I know i’m not a sports guy but even that aside we don’t need any more. Or if your not going to at least give us a revivial of friday night lights. That’s how you make me care about sports. SO it still works well.  What dosen’t is most of the next bit, where our boys head off to hollywood. And look some bits are really funny: Brain having a rat tail and goatee

Don’t ask me why, pinky, who weirdly dosen’t have his own mechanical human suit, as his agent, it’s good. And what’s GREAT is the two pitching the film to tom hanks, the nicest guy in hollywood, only for him to throw a tantrum and demand they call him lord ruler. Given Hanks is STILL the nicest guy in hollywood to this day.. the joke is sitll hilarious, helped by the fact he’s one of my mom’s faviorite actors, so i’ve grown up with the guy my whole life. Love the guy genuinely great stuff, easily on par with that bit from the simpsons movie.  But the issue is.. that’s the ONLY funny gag for the next three minutes, as Brain pitches it to bruce wilis, who is on board till demi reminds him he has to watch the kids and stuff. GET IT BECAUSE HE’S A FAMILY MAN... LAUGH, LAUGH AT HIM BEING A RESPONSIBLE AND LOVING PARENT LAUGGGHGHHH. Seriously Bruce Williams is awesome what the hell man.  It gets no better as we get an unfunny montage of eveyrone turning down brain including Donny Most, as he just rose from the haze

Sunday Monday, happy days. Point is that one bit was funnier than the handful of minutes of my life i’m not getting back. Seriously a fourth of the episode is wasted on thiis and the bruce willis bit combined. Why. The ONLY funny part is the ending where they get rejected by vanilla ice.. which is only funny now because he’s since made a small career in film showing up in Adam Sandler films, so his threshold for being in shit films is low. Then again his musical talent took a steep decline.. yes it somehow got worse. 

Just in case you think I was bullshitting you. Point is no one will star in Brain’s film or help fund it so he decides to go full wiseau and make it himself.  So our heroes head home and we get some great bits in how they put it together. Brain INTENDS for Meadowlark Lemon, who I somehow knew was a Harlem Globetrotter, and who Brain taught to play his sidekick.. but he backs out so PInky gets the part afterall. Why? I don’t know.. seriously the joke dosen’t even remotely synch up. The only things he and bill dee share are being black and if that’s the reason they wanted to shove a globetrotter in this...

Yeah. Thankfully we’re past the poorly aged bits of this as the rest of the episode .. is just nonstop hilarity. There’s just too many jokes to go over, but some of hte best include: Brain’s hairpiece, mimicing Jame’s Caan, which is made of lint, Pinky having to wear stilts for one scene, using a treadmill to mimic walking, pinky finding great sets by raiding the garage finding a barbie playset for the hospital room and a game of electric football for the field. Huh I think ken burns made a documentary on that once. 

That’s also the only reason I know what Electric Football is.. also how did pinky carry all of that. Questions for later. Point is it’s just one clever gag after the next and you really DON’T need to know Brian’s Song to find this uproriously hilarious. Our heroes also flim it live, hyjacking the airwaves not to offer wishes but to air the film. Again the film is just one long string of great gags, no question so I’m not recapping it. But it works and the world leaders are too bummed out to do anything. Insert your own 2020 joke here.  But in a nice chekovs callback Brain sustained injuries being on the electric football set, so he vibrates at inportune times, thus causing everyone to laugh, foiling his plan> It’s a great payoff and I do like how, as I mentioned in my last pinky and the brain review, it’s often Brain’s own fault and not ALWAYS just “pinky screws up” like I remembered. Here his insitance on doing the scene again and again depsite the risk and not acknowlding his pain screws him over. 

Final Thoughts; This is a pretty good episode. Despite the down spot the last half of it is just so damn funny, again I coudln’t properly recap it because it was just one long string of great jokes and set pieces, and trasncends the film i’ts parodying. Worth a watch if you have hulu just fast forward a bit after the tom hanks bit. Also that was Dave Colier, aka terrible replacment venkman aka uncle joey aka that guy who somehow had sex with alanis morsette but is probably not the one that song is about. It was about Alf, wake up people. And for now I bid you all goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. 

[cuddlepilefics]

16.    A Christmas Alone

Fandom: GOT7

Sickie: Mark

Caregiver: -

This is about the first Christmas since the group has moved into a dorm together. Might be a bit sad….

 This is the first Christmas Mark would be spending away from home. He had moved into a dorm with his group members. Sadly, unlike them, he couldn’t travel home to his family because they just lived too far apart. Mark was dreading Christmas, he dreaded it every year. At some point growing up, he had established his own little Christmas tradition. Each year without fail, he would catch a stomach bug and be miserable when all he wanted to do was celebrate with his family. When it had happened the fifth year in a row, his siblings had decorated a bucket with holiday-themed stickers as a Christmas gift. Of course, none of his new friends knew about Mark’s tradition and he didn’t want them to. They were all going to visit their families and he didn’t want them to worry about him. He was the oldest after all.

While other people roamed the stores for treats and last-minute gifts, Mark’s Christmas shopping included electrolyte drinks, painkillers and antacids. He doubted that just because he was at a different place than usual, his fate would be different. Though he for sure hoped to be spared this time. At home he was ok with getting sick, he had his whole family around him. They’d take care of him and ensure he’d enjoy the celebrations despite being sick. Here he would be alone.

The members all said their goodbyes, hugging each other tight in the living room, wishing each other a Merry Christmas before heading out to make their separate journeys home. When the evening approached, Mark was alone, the members had one by one trickled out, leaving the dorm unusually quiet. Having dinner by himself, the food didn’t seem as appetizing as it usually would but the rapper decided that was simply because he was eating alone which he wasn’t used to at all. He scrolled through Netflix and got comfortable on the couch. Turning on his go to Christmas movie ‘Home Alone’ he started to get a little emotional and soon turned the TV off. Lacking any distraction that would take his mind off of having to spend Christmas by himself, the rapper went to bed early.

As luck would have it, he didn’t stay asleep for too long, waking up in the middle of the night to his stomach cramping. Unable to go back to sleep, Mark cursed his fate before untangling himself from the sheets. With one arm wrapped tightly around his upset middle, he limped to the kitchen, turning on the kettle to fix himself a hot-water bottle. As he waited for the water to boil, he put some rice into the rice cooker, setting a timer for the device to turn-off when the rice was done. He wanted to have some plain rice ready, if he felt up to eating anything by the morning, so he’d better prepare everything now as long as he still could. You could call it foresight or simply yearlong experience but Mark was almost certain he would not be able to make himself food tomorrow. When the water boiled, he quickly poured it into the hot-water bottle and went back to his bedroom, grabbing a bucket from their closet containing cleaning supplies and took it with him as well. With the bucket next to his bed, he curled up around his hot-water bottle and tried to ignore the cramps, hoping to just go back to sleep.

Having managed to get a few more hours of restless sleep, Mark woke up in cold sweat to the churning of his stomach. He took a few deep breaths through his nose to settle the worsening nausea. It only seemed to be getting worse, so he carefully got out of bed and shakily made his way to the bathroom. He would not use the bucket as long as he still managed to get his sorry ass to the bathroom in time because he’d have to clean the bucket out afterwards and he was certain he wouldn’t manage that without throwing up again. Kneeling in front of the toilet, the rapper stared into the undisturbed waters. He knew the drill by now, so he knew that hoping the nausea would just pass was useless, it wouldn’t. Shivering in his sweat-through sleepshirt, he wrapped his arms around his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut against the cramp that rippled across his abdomen. If he was still younger and if he was still at home, he would’ve woken his mother at that point but he wasn’t. He had a job, he had moved out from his parents and he could handle himself.

Mark had no idea how long he had sat there anticipating. He only knew that he was freezing and the shivering didn’t do enough to warm him. Carefully pushing himself up with one hand against the wall, he grabbed his shower towel off the hook and wrapped it around his shoulders tightly before sitting back down. Apparently, his stomach had disliked the movement and Mark was barely back in front of the toilet when his throat contracted with a gag. Despite not bringing anything up, the young idol could taste last night’s dinner at the back of his tongue. It only hit him now, that this was all really happening. He was sick with his yearly bug and he was alone. Nobody was there or even knew that he felt miserable. His members probably didn’t even think about leaving him behind, too excited to see their families again. Mark didn’t blame them, he’d be too, if he got a chance to visit them. Suddenly feeling lonelier than he had in his life, the tears started to spill from his eyes while he made no attempt to stop them. Who should see him cry anyways.

Mark’s silent crying soon turned into frustrated sobs, which sent his feeble stomach over the edge. A sob turned into a forceful retch that brought up a small trickle of stomach acid. With his throat on fire, the rapper braced himself against the toilet rim, mouth watering as his stomach contracted again and a gush of semi-digested food shot up his throat. His knuckles turned white as he choked for a few seconds. Barely able to catch his breath, Mark brought up two waves back to back as his knuckles turning white from the strain as he held onto the toilet rim for dear life. Gasping for air, he quickly spits into the bowl to get rid of the foul taste, hoping he’d get his stomach to calm down if the taste was gone. He hadn’t eaten for hours, how could he even bring anything up? After two more, much smaller waves, he was officially empty but his stomach just didn’t want to accept that. His body mercilessly tried to throw up more than I had in him to begin with, dry heaves tearing at the rapper’s throat. If anything ever came up, it was just a small dribble of bile, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue which inevitably triggered another heave. Mark just wished, he had forced himself to eat more yesterday because throwing up is one thing, he could handle that but dry heaving is so much painfuller.

The heaves died down eventually and Mark weakly leaned back against the bathroom wall, drying his tears and picking up the towel that had slipped off his shoulders. His sweaty shirt stuck to his back, yet he still felt cold. With his head spinning dizzily, the rapper forced himself to stand up on shaky legs. He knew if he wanted to feel warm again, he’d have to get changed. With the image of his favorite sweater in mind, he clutched the sink, fumbling with one hand to get toothpaste onto his toothbrush. His view of the bathroom kept tilting sideways, so he closed the toilet lid, plopping down to sit while he quickly brushed his teeth, just thorough enough to remove the bitter taste.

Mark was fighting a battle in his mind, he knew he had to stay hydrated and should go grab himself a bottle of water on the way back to his room but all he wanted was to put on a hoodie and crawl into bed. As much as it sucked, the rapper forced himself to take a detour to the kitchen before shuffling back to his room. He pealed off his sticky shirt and replaced it with his favorite hoodie. It was one of Jackson’s old hoodies, the Chinese had grown out of it and had passed it on to Mark because the older found it looked cool, that was only a few months after they moved into a room together. You couldn’t say the two were close, yet Jackson was probably Mark’s closest friend here in Korea and wearing his old sweater brought Mark a sense of comfort. Sitting down on his bed, Mark took a few careful sips from his water before recapping it and putting the bottle onto the nightstand. He made sure the bucket was still close-by as he laid down again, closing his eyes to sleep off as much of this bug as he could.

He slept fitfully on and off for a few hours, till he was awoken again by the loud ringing of his phone. Initially he wanted to ignore it and go back to sleep but when he found the caller’s ID to be his mother, he quickly picked up. Placing the phone on the pillow next to his ear, Mark closed his eyes again.

“Hey sweetie. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, mom!” Wow, he only noticed now how strained his voice sounded.

“Hey, did you get sick again?”

“Mhm, just last night after the others left.”

“How bad is it? Are you holding up alright by yourself?”

“I’m ok. After the first bathroom session I slept mostly.”

“Remember to stay hydrated, sweetie and I know you probably don’t want to but try to eat something once in a while. You’re already so skinny.”

“I promise, I’m taking care of myself, mom. I prepared some rice last night, when it all started, I’ll try to have some later. It just doesn’t feel safe right now.”

“Alright, I now you’re already my big boy. It just makes me sad that you’re hurting and not here with us. Should I let you sleep some more?”

“Please. Can we talk again later?”

“Whenever and how often you want, baby. We can also have a videocall tonight if you want to and feel up to it.”

“Yes please. I miss you. All of you.”

“We miss you too. Rest well and get better for us, yeah? I love you.”

“Mhm. Love you too, mom.”

And with that the call ended. Mark’s mom was obviously and understandably worried though she tried so hard to not let it show in her voice. Sure, at the back of her head she knew her son was well capable of taking care of himself but he was still her little baby.

After the call ended, Mark couldn’t go back to sleep. The nausea had returned with full vengeance and he curled into himself whimpering. He didn’t consider going to the bathroom because first of all, he was empty and second, moving seemed like an impossible task right now. Cradling his sore middle with one arm, he fished the bucket off of the ground, hugging it to his chest as he removed the arm around his stomach to prop himself up. As soon as he was upright, a breathy burp escaped his lips and he cringed at the thought of what was to come. The first gag immediately brought up the small amount of water he had consumed earlier, the sound of it splashing into the plastic bucket seemed way to loud for Mark’s liking. He was starting to get a bit dehydrated, resulting in a pounding headache which was aggravated as he retched dryly over the bucket in his lap. Once in a while a thin spurt of stomach acid would come up but other than that he was empty.

What seemed like an eternity to Mark later, the whole ordeal finally came to an end. By now, his head was pounding mercilessly while he slumped over the bucket, any strength he had had zapped. It took a few minutes and deep breaths for the rapper to settle his stomach enough to even consider moving. Despite just wanting to flop back down into his pillows, this wasn’t an option and the young idol had to go clean out his sick bucket. He made his way to the bathroom, swaying as he held himself up against the wall. He only had to heave into the bucket once on the way there and nothing came up, so he considered this a success. There was not much to clean out and he soon fought his way back to his room, the thought of laying down giving him the strength to continue.

Putting the bucket next to his bed again, he reached under his bed and pulled out an electrolyte drink he had bought in wise foresight. He forced himself to down at least half of it, either it would help him rehydrate and ease the headache or the next round of throwing up wouldn’t be as painful, because he had something he could bring up. Either way it would be a win. Curling back up under his blanket, Mark hugged himself both in an attempt to ease the feverish shivers and to feel less lonely. He felt awful and all he wanted was for someone to be with him. Of course, his family would be his first choice but at this point he’d take literally any of his new friends. As long as there was someone and he wouldn’t have to go through this alone. Tears stung his eyes and he let the flow freely. How he envied his friends for being able to be with their loved ones while he was here all by himself and to top it off: sick. He doubted his members even spared him a single thought as they enjoyed their Christmas celebrations with their tradition, as Mark struggled through his own tradition. Being feverish and exhausted, it didn’t take long for the young idol to cry himself to sleep, unaware that his phone was blowing up with loving Christmas wishes and missed calls from his friends, which as the hours passed turned into numerous concerned messages in their group chat as they realized that no one was able to get a hold of their oldest hyung.

Mark would have some explaining to do when he woke up again and maybe he’d realize that there were people, apart of his family, that sincerely cared about him and who were currently going crazy with worry and guilt for leaving him by himself.

[hyperion-huntress]

Holiday in Handcuffs

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3358268#main

Pairing: Destiel

Words: 6160

Tags: AU, fluff, artist!Cas, kidnapping, Christmas time, mistletoe kisses.

Rating: General Audiences 

Summary: 

When the mystery man came out and went to walk past Castiel his eyes widened when Castiel stepped in the way.

“Can I help you?”

Castiel almost felt bad as he pulled the coat back enough to show the end of the gun. “You’re going to come with me. Peacefully and quietly, or I’ll shoot you.”

The man didn’t looked scared at all as he looked from the gun to Castiel’s face, just calm, and for a moment Castiel was terrified he wouldn’t listen but then he gave a slight nod and walked to the doors.

Tuesday was when things began to fall apart, at work he had several different people yell at him for bringing him the wrong thing even though he’s sure two of the people did order it then just didn’t like it. He had went home to find out that his ancient microwave finally hit the dust. After eating his cold, three day old Chinese take out he decided to finally try to finish his painting.

He almost did too, he was just adding the final finishing touches of dark gray and light green when he tripped and sent his paint right into the middle of his canvas. In the scramble to get it off with the least damage possible he ended up tripping a second time and falling, the canvas getting torn in the process.

If Tuesday was bad, Wednesday was downright awful. He had went to talk to the local gallery about putting some of his work in but was denied because his landscape work didn’t fit in with the other, mostly unrealistic, pieces they were featuring. At work he dropped hot soup on himself and burned a large portion of his arms and chest. Not to mention the moment he finished putting on his new shirt his brother called him to remind him about Christmas at the family cabin.

“You won’t be late again this year, will you?”

Castiel let out a large sigh as he leaned against the employees bathroom counter. “I’ll be on time. 7 PM, sharp.”

“That’s what you said last year. And Castiel?” Lucifer asked.

“What?” Castiel huffed, already irritated with his eldest brother.

“It’s 6.” He said dryly, going on before Castiel had a chance to respond. “And you’re bringing someone this year aren’t you? You usually don’t but we had hoped you finally met someone who… Can take care of you, this year.”

“I can take care of myself, Lucifer.” Castiel snapped out, pushing away from the counter sharply. “I don’t need anyone to support me.”

Lucifer gave him a long suffering sigh. “You’re a waiter, Castiel.”

“I’m also an artist.” He put in quickly as he left the bathroom, sick of his family ignoring it or referring to it as a childhood hobby he hadn’t grown out of yet.

“Anyways, you’re the only one of us who hasn’t brought anyone home. Mother and father are starting to get worried, you know. Not only that you won’t ever find anyone but that you’re, you know, hiding your sexuality from your family.”

“I’m bringing someone home.” Castiel said, just wanting to put an end to this as he looked around, eyes locking on a man. “But.. It is a man.” He said, waiting for a snide comment that never came.

“What’s his name?”

“You’ll find out with the rest of the family.” He stated as he watched the man walk across the room, headed past him and to the bathrooms.

“Honestly, Castiel-” And that’s when Castiel hung up, already knowing that the condescending tone would only leave him more angry.

Suddenly, he knew what he had to do and he took off the stupid elf hat the owner made them wear and went over to grab his coat, pulling the handgun out from the inside pocket and hiding it under his coat as he headed towards the bathroom.

When the mystery man came out and went to walk past Castiel his eyes widened when Castiel stepped in the way.

“Can I help you?”

Castiel almost felt bad as he pulled the coat back enough to show the end of the gun. “You’re going to come with me. Peacefully and quietly, or I’ll shoot you.”

The man didn’t looked scared at all as he looked from the gun to Castiel’s face, just calm, and for a moment Castiel was terrified he wouldn’t listen but then he gave a slight nod and walked to the doors.

Castiel followed, feeling like he was in a daze, miles away from the current situation. He was suddenly brought back when the man slipped on a patch of ice and came down on the ground with a harsh sound.

Holding his breath, Castiel leaned over him and once he saw he was simply passed out he pocketed the gun and threw it in his old rust bucket of a car with his coat before working the man into the passenger's seat.

Utilizing this time, he grabbed his tie and took it off, wrapping it around the man’s eyes as a blindfold for later. Once it was knotted in the back he went rummaging around for the gag gift his cousin Gabriel had given him for his last birthday.

He plucked the pink, fuzzy handcuffs up with a slight smile before putting them on his temporary victim. The rational part of him was yelling and telling him he couldn’t do this and to let him go. The larger part of him though was telling him that he could make this work and please his family for once in his life and after the few days at the cabin he could let the man go and everyone would go back to their normal lives.

Once Castiel had buckled the both of them in he began the two hour drive north to his family’s cabin, structures getting more and more scarce as he drove until there were only buildings every 15 or so minutes.

He had stopped an hour in to get gas and pick up some snacks when the man finally woke up, jerking as he tried to asses the situation.

Castiel looked over to him as he pulled out of the gas station. “Sorry.” Was the first thing out of his mouth.

“Sorry.” The man echoed, turning in his general direction. “What the hell is going on?”

“Here.” He said, reaching over and pulling at his tie until it dropped around the man’s neck. “Better?”

“Not really.” He said, staring at Castiel’ before looking out the window. “Are you taking me out in the middle of nowhere to kill me? You some sort of serial killer?”

Castiel frowned at him. “What? No. I just.. Listen, you’re going to come with me to my family’s cabin and pretend to be my boyfriend.” He explained simply.

The man just stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re fuckin’ crazy. I’ve been kidnapped by a psychopath.” He said, not able to believe it. “What the.. Why do you even think that would work? You do realize the minute we get to other people- wonderfully sane people- I’m going to tell them that you kidnapped me right?”

Castiel shifted, looking at him. “They won’t believe you, I have a plan already.”

The man pursed his lips as he shook his head again. “I could probably take you.” He said as he subtly sized the guy up. “Eventually I’ll overpower you.”

Castiel pulled his gun back out and pointed it at him. “Or I could shoot you.”

“You won’t shoot me.” The man stated just as a deer pranced across the road.

Castiel let out a shout as he went to swerve to the side the same time his hand dropped slightly and he pulled the trigger. He quickly looked over to the frozen man and followed his eyes, horrified when he saw his bullet embedded itself in the seat right below the man's crotch.

“I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed as he slammed the safety back on and put it away.

The pair were silent for the next 20 minutes of their trip before Castiel cleared his throat. “My name is Castiel. You can call me Cas. I uh.. Got chips, if you want any.” He offered.

The man denied even as his stomach growled loudly at the thought.

Castiel offered a slight, if forced, laugh as he handed him an unopened bag. “All yours.”

After another five minutes the man quietly opened the bag and ate a few chips before mumbling.

“What?”

“Dean. Names Dean.”

“Hello, Dean.”

He was met with grumbles and a glare as the man continued to eat.

10 minutes away, Castiel began to give him a rundown of his life and family and Dean reluctantly offered a few things about himself.

Once he was pulled up outside the cabin, half an hour away from any other buildings he began to pat Dean’s jacket and pants pocket.

“Hey! You don’t get to touch what you almost shot off!” He protested.

“Sorry, just looking for this.” Castiel said as he pulled the phone from him and shoved it in his pocket with his own before uncuffing him and taking his tie back. “I’ll be right back.” He said before running to the house.

Inside he found his mom and dad and came out as well as told them that his boyfriend, Dean, had a weird sense of humor where he just joked about being a kidnapped victim until everyone was sick of it in 2 minutes. Castiel could tell that they thought it was weird, but then again they thought he was weird too.

He ran back out of the house and into Dean who had been on the porch.

Castiel took Dean’s arm and pulled him in. “Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend, Dean. Dean, this is my mother and father.”

Dean gave him a look before launching into the story about how he got here. Castiel was more than relieved when his parents looked at each other before chuckling to themselves. “Love has a way of making you feel like that.” His father said and Dean turned to Castiel, smug look dropping off of his face.

The next 15 minutes was a whirlwind of greetings and forced hugs and handshakes and the entire time Castiel made sure to keep an eye on Dean.

After his brothers and sister and the people they brought were led away by his mother and father he turned to Dean. “Not so bad, right?”

“I hate you.” Was his reply as he glowered at Castiel.

“It’s only for a few days?” Castiel offered. “Then I can take you back to the diner and you can go on with your life.”

Dean snorted at that. “Are you serious? My brothers a lawyer, there’s no way you won’t be in jail at the end of this.”

Castiel never get the chance to reply as his mother came downstairs to retrieve them before putting them in a room together.

Once the door was shut, Castiel cleared his throat as they both stared at the single bed. “I know I kidnapped you but if it makes you uncomfortable I can bring a cot in here to sleep on.”

“Yeah, I’d love that. I’d also love if you let me go.” Dean replied, sitting on the bed.

Castiel awkwardly shuffled his feet before deciding to ignore the comment. “So, maybe we should get to know each other a little better?”

“Alright. I’m Dean Winchester, I’m an Aquarius, enjoy sunsets and long walks on the beach. I also like frisky women, emphasis on the women part.”

“You’re not straight, completely, at least.”

Dean stared at him with wide eyes a moment before scowling. “Why do you say that?”

“No need to get defensive.” Castiel sighed, sitting on the other end of the bed. “But in the diner? You checked out two guys.” He pointed out, watching as Dean lowered his head.

“I’m going to enjoy seeing you get arrested.” He bit out.

Dinner went by uneventfully after that, Castiel and Dean staying silent most of the time as they ate slowly. After dinner, the family members bid each other goodnight and Castiel got a cot into their room. He slept by the door as Dean took the bed.

In the morning, Castiel woke up first and, after a few moments, he woke Dean up as well. Which, of course, went awful like he had expected. He didn’t think it would be any better if Dean had woke up on his own, though.

They were still bickering 20 minutes later when his sister Anna came too get them for breakfast.

Dean brushed right past her and headed down. Anna gave Castiel a smile. “I don’t know how you got so lucky, he’s so handsome.” she complimented. “And to get him to come here.”

“I guess I didn’t really give him a choice.” He said before stumbling over his words. “To love me, of course.” He added quickly.

Anna gave a small giggle as she continued down the hall to get Lucifer and Michael and their respective wives.

He made his way into the kitchen just in time, it seemed.

“You slept in those?” His mother asked.

“We left his suitcase behind, with all the hustle and bustle.” Castiel supplied easily as he slipped in the room.

Dean shot him a displeased look as his mother tutted at them. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something for you. Castiel has a tendency to wear clothes too big for him, anyways.”

And that’s how Dean found himself locked in the bathroom with a phone after lunch. He had gotten some clothes from Castiel but was sent to Lucifer and Michael to look for better fitting pants.

“You have a phone?” Dean asked, staring at the device on Michael’s dresser.

“I own a company, of course I wouldn’t be phoneless for 4 days. I turned in a fake to my mother.”

“Can I use it?” Dean asked, hopeful that this was his way out.

Michael picked it up and tossed it to him. “Five minutes. Don’t let anyone know, mother takes it very seriously.”

Dean was out and down the hallway in ten seconds flat.

Now, he listened the the ringing before a worried. “Hello?”

“Sammy! You have to help me.” Dean said, forcing himself to keep his voice down low.

“Dean, what’s wrong? You never called me back last night and you’re supposed to be here in an hour.”

“Listen, I was kidnapped and held at gunpoint and almost had my dick shot off last night. I’m maybe three hours north of moms house. I need you to get the police or something and get me out of here.” He rushed the last part as someone began banging on the door. “I’ve got to go Sam, but please hurry.” He pleaded as he ended the call and opened the door.

Castiel narrowed his eyes as he held out his hand. “Phone.”

Dean obediently dropped it in his palm, feeling a bit more cocky than he had since this entire thing began.

“You.. didn’t make a call did you?”

Dean just smirked at him before walking by. “Oh, and Castiel?” He said, turning to him with a smug look. “I’m gonna be the best damn boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“Wait, what?” Castiel asked, blinking in surprise. “Why?”

“Because I want to make your family love me so when they find out all about this they’re even more disappointed with you.” Dean said, bitter about not being home with his own family. He gave him another smug smirk before turning and going to their room.

Castiel watched after him, accidentally letting out a whimper as the words registered with him.

A little bit after that they had put up a tree, his parents embarrassing him worse and worse as the minutes passed by.

“Castiel made this one when he was 7.” His father commented.

His mother let out a sigh as she took it and hung it up. “He was always so withdrawn as a child. Once, we paid a little girl to be his friend but two weeks later she gave the money back.”

“Mother!” Castiel groaned, dropping his head as she went on.

“It was always just you and your drawings. And Mr. Dinglebop.”

“Mr. Dinglebop?” Dean asked, not able to even hide his amusement. Or, not trying to at all to begin with.

“His imaginary friend.” His father added in, sighing heavily.

Dean grinned over at Castiel but it slowly began to fall as he saw how Castiel was retreating in on himself. As an older brother it was part of his job to realize how far you could push someone until it was too far and he could tell it was time to get out of this territory now.

He laid a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and gave him a warm smile when he looked up. “How about we go make some hot chocolate before we go to bed?”

Castiel nodded, relieved and Dean led him with a hand on his lower back to the kitchen.

“Sorry.. They aren’t exactly proud of me.” Castiel said as he pulled out things for hot chocolate.

Dean made a face as he got the cups down “Don’t say that. They’re your parents, they love you.”

“Not as much as they love Michael and Anna and Lucifer.” Castiel mumbled as he got out the mild.

He startled when Dean’s hand closed around his wrist and the milk splashed out and onto Dean’s shirt as he turned them so they were face to face. “Don’t say things like that.” He said, tone demanding him to listen, not even reacting to the spilled milk.

Castiel dropped his eyes to his wet shirt front and nodded.

Dean seemed to be pleased with that and let him go. Castiel set the milk on the kitchen island and watched as Dean easily took his shirt off and bunched it up.

Castiel let his eyes drift down, for the first time getting a good look at Dean’s chest and appreciating it a lot more than he probably should.

Watching him stare, Dean might have flexed a little bit as he twisted the shirt in his hands. “It’s only fair you give me your shirt.” He stated.

Blue eyes flew up to meet green, widening at the statement. “Why don’t you just get a new one?”

Dean smirked, leaning against the counter. “Because you want me to wear your clothes anyways.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and quickly removed his own shirt, throwing it at Dean. “I’ll go get a new one. You can make the cocoa.” He said, blushing at how Dean’s eyes roamed over him.

He turned and began to walk when Dean opened his mouth again.

“Are all your pants that low?” Castiel stumbled and turned to stare at him just to let his jaw drop when he found eyes tracing the v of his hips.

Turning, he fled the room and put on the baggiest shirt he owned, hoping Dean couldn’t find a reason to check his body out again.

He may have put off going back down for a few minutes. He fiddled with the sketchbook he had brought, flipping through it quickly twice before he sighed and put it back. Slowly, he walked back to the kitchen.

Castiel found Dean with two glasses and a bottle of hard liquor between them. “I uh… Just thought that maybe something stronger would be good for tonight.”

Moving forward with a small smile, Castiel nodded. “That sounds better, actually.” He said, sitting down as he took the glass Dean pushed towards him.

Dean watched as Castiel put the glass to his lips, downing it all in one go and setting the glass back down with a slight grimace. “You drink like you want to forget.” He commented.

Castiel glanced at Dean who just shrugged and said “I know what it’s like.” before downing the liquid in his own glass. They refilled and went on drinking as they talked. At first it was all meaningless small talk but at some point it became deeper.

“I just want them to feel proud of me, just once.” Castiel said miserably. That wouldn’t do, thought Dean. He reached over and settled a hand on Castiel’ shoulder in a form of comfort.

Castiel’s eyes rose to meet him and they were full of regret. “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have brought you here. It was stupid, I was stupid.” He muttered, dropping his gaze to the half empty glass.

“Hey, Cas, look at me.” Dean said and waited for their eyes to meet again before going on. “I know I didn’t exactly have any choice on coming here, and I wish that I was with my own family, but… This isn’t all that bad.” He said, shifting.

Castiel looked up, eyes hopeful for the first time this day. “You really mean that? Like… You don’t hate it all?”

“Course not, you’re family is pretty cool once you get passed half them acting like they have sticks up their asses half the time.” Dean said, downing the rest of his drink. They were both well on their way to drunk at this point and starting to slur some of their words. “Besides, as stupid as it is, I’m really liking all your family traditions and.. and I might be starting to like even you.”

Castiel stared at him a long minute, not being able to process that. “You mean… You don’t hate me? Even after I almost shot your..” He motioned down to his lap.

Dean let out a loud laugh at that before clamping a hand over his mouth, not wanting to wake anyone up.

After that, the conversation became lighter as they talked about what they both enjoyed. They had a few more glasses before Castiel stood up to put the almost empty bottle back. He stumbled on the way, causing Dean to laugh more, doubling over and shaking his head as he watched.

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh back, finding it contagious. Finally, he calmed himself enough to nudge Dean and nod to the stairs. “We should go to bed.”

Dean nodded and stood, he wobbled in place a moment before tossing an arm around Castiel’s shoulder. “We can help each other walk.” He reasoned and Castiel had never heard a better idea as he wrapped an arm around Dean’s middle.

They made their way up the stairs, in now way, shape, or form, being quiet about it. They had to stop half way up when Castiel began to laugh after Dean had hit his toe and almost fell as he swore loudly.

Eventually, after much too long, they were in the room. Dean kicked the door closed and walked them to the bed. He held on tight even when Castiel’s tried to pull away to go to his cot.

“No, no, we have to walk together.” Dean had said.

“But I’ll have to walk back to my cot by myself.” Castiel said, confused by the idea.

Dean shook his head as he flopped down on the bed, taking Castiel with him. “Good thing this is big enough for two!”

Castiel let out a laugh as Dean turned enough to wrap his arms and legs around his. “Hey, hey, at least cover us up.” He protested with chuckles as he wrestled the blanket out from underneath them and flung it over, making sure they were both covered.

Dean hummed, giving Castiel a small squeeze. “Haven’t slept in the same bed with someone in forever. I missed it.” He admitted quietly, into Castiel’ hair.

Castiel let out a small content sigh, turning into Dean’s hold and laying an arm around his waist. “I know how you feel.” He said back in a quiet voice.

He laid there, ear pressed against Dean’s chest and listening to just his heartbeat and breathing for a while before his own eyes slid shut and he drifted off.

Dean, laid there a while longer just watching Castiel, mind void of any real thought processes before he also fell asleep.

The next day they didn't say anything when the woke up side by side. They just got up and began getting ready for the day.

It worked for the most part, at least until they went down for breakfast. They had been shuffling through the door when Anna pointed at them with a grin.

They looked at each other, confused, then back at Anna. All she did was grin and look up. Dread filled Castiel as he looked up, already knowing what he would see.

Above them was mistletoe. It was just hanging there in a cruel way, at least to his eyes. He was about to make an excuse about morning breath but he felt a hand on his cheek.

His eyes shot down to meet Dean’s and they widened when he was the soft smile on Dean’s face.

He felt another hand on his other cheek and then his face was being pulled forward. He closed his eyes automatically and then lips were on his and they were soft and warm and so, so wrong because Dean’s not even here of his own free will.

That didn’t stop him from kissing back though and he tilted his head when Dean began to tilt his the other way.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and Dean’s hands moved down, settling on each of his hips. They continued to kiss like that until a cleared throat made them startle away from each other.

Castiel stared wide-eyed at Dean in disbelief as a blush took over his face. Dean, on the other hand, just turned to see who had made the noise and grinned at Michael. “Sorry?”

Castiel turned fast enough to see Michael roll his eyes. Anna looked fairly pleased with herself and right then he knew his sister was the reason the mistletoe was there in the first place. Glancing to the other end of the table he could see Lucifer hiding an amused smirk behind his cup of coffee. If it was possible, Castiel’s face burned even brighter at that.

“Mother dragged the others out to pick up the last few things needed for dinner tonight.” Michael said as he stood up. “I think I’m going to go for a walk, now.” He said before leaving the room with carefully measured strides.

Dean dragged Castiel over to the table and sat him down before grabbing breakfast for the both of them. “I was thinking actually, you paint, right? Maybe we could go out for a winter picnic and you can get some nice landscapes down.”

Castiel stared at him, startled, before slowly nodding. “I.. Yes, Dean, that sounds pleasant.” He said, his hands fidgeting under the table, out of sight.

Dean smiled widely at him as he sat down with two plates of food and Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. Right then, he knew he was fucked.

Keen to keep his word, Dean packed a lunch and made sure they were bundled up before dragging Castiel out of the cabin with a canvas as well as a sketchpad and his case of various paints, pencils and pastels.

Castiel took him up to a secluded spot he had found as a kid and Dean spread out two blankets on a fallen log they had found. They ate in silence as Castiel began to look around, looking for just the right spot.

Dean seemed content to just eat and look out at the snow shining in the distance as Castiel began on his landscape sketch. Or, at least it started as a landscape drawing.

At some point Castiel had sketched Dean into it and then suddenly half of the space was just him and it was more like a portrait then. Castiel didn’t even realize it until he had colored the green of Dean’s eyes just right. He started when Dean broke the silence that had surrounded them the whole time.

“Can I see it?”

Castiel stared at him with wide eyes as he held it against his chest. “I..” He swallowed before nodding and holding it out to Dean.

He watched as Dean’s eyes widened and let it go easily when Dean took hold of it to bring it closer to his eyes for inspection. He waited guiltily for Dean to begin to lecture him about drawing him without his permission but then Dean just grinned over at Castiel and handed it back. “I like it, Cas.”

Castiel practically preened at the words, smiling brightly at him as he pulled it back and finished up the background. “We should probably head back, the suns going down.” He said softly.

“Probably.” Dean agreed, carefully nudging Castiel. “I’ll pose for you back at the cabin, okay?” He said and Castiel looked up to meet teasing eyes.

“Maybe I will make you be my model.” Castiel rolled his eyes fondly as he packed up. “You are very pretty, after all.” He said, patting his cheek before standing up.

Dean watched him a moment before grinning and getting up too, collecting the blankets before they began their journey through the thinning forest to the cabin.

They walked in the front door and began peeling off their damp clothing. They seemed to have good timing because just then Castiel’s father came out in a huge coat and let out a loud sigh when he saw them. “I was just about to come get you. Dinner will be ready in ten.” He said before he pulled off his huge coat.

“Let’s go get dressed.” Castiel said quietly, taking Dean’s hand and pulling him up the stairs to their room.

Castiel put his art supplies away and turned to go through the dresser he had filled with his clothes. He got an outfit and turned to change but froze when he saw Dean, however. He was shirtless and tugging his pants down and he turned to grab the pants he had put on his bed.

Dean looked up and saw Castiel staring, he grinned at him and winked. “Maybe we’ll save the nude modeling for after dinner?”

Castiel sputtered at that and turned away quickly, pulling his own clothes off and quickly trying to redress. This wasn’t anything like how the locker rooms at school were like, he mused to himself.

Dean grinned as he watched Castiel and let out a whistle, chuckling to himself when Castiel almost tripped in his rush to pull his pants on.

Castiel was dressed and out the door before Dean even had his pants on. He rushed down to the kitchen and offered to help but just got sent to grab the two bottles of wine from the storage spot in the garage portion there was.

He went and fetched the bottles and when he returned Dean was helping Anna set the table. After that it was all a blur of directions and being told where to sit by his mother before everything was set and dinner was deemed ready.

Lucifer and Michael were sat on one side of the table with their wives beside them. At both heads of the table where their parents and then Anna, Dean and Castiel sat across from his brothers and their wives.

His mother made a small religious speech and they all made a toast. Right as his father rose to cut the ham there was a loud bang and men charged into the house, guns raised.

Castiel felt his stomach drop as he realized they were police officers, shouting orders at them. After a moment a large man without a uniform fought his way through and grabbed Dean, dragging him out.

Castiel kept his head down as he heard yelling and orders but he just obediently put his hands behind his back when the officers began to arrest them. All of them, to Castiel’s horror.

Luckily on the way to the jail he rode in the back of a police car with Anna who seemed to be stunned into silence. Or too disgusted to talk to him. Castiel was hoping it was just the shock, though.

The next to hour seemed to pass by like minutes. Soon they were all back together in a cell and Michael was yelling at him about how he had managed to ruin Christmas and commit a crime at the same time.

No one stood up for him or even told Michael to quiet down so Castiel sat there and took it, staring at the ground. He always knew his family was better off without him and this was proving all those thoughts.

He tried to apologize once but a glare from Lucifer shut him back up. Worse than that, his mother was crying, asking what she had done to mess him up this bad. His father kept giving him disappointed looks, and Anna was ignoring him all together.

He wasn’t sure how long it had went on, it seemed like hours to him though. Eventually an officer returned and said the charges had been dropped. Everyone rushed out of the cell, to follow the other officer but Castiel made a sluggish exit, feeling like he would be safer behind the bars at this point.

It was stupid and selfish but Castiel kept looking around the police station, hoping to see Dean. He didn’t.

He went home after that to his broken toaster and lonely rooms, not daring to go get his things from the cabin just yet. He did go pick his car up from where the police had all of their cars towed.

A couple of weeks later Castiel was heading out of the restaurant and to his car. His entire body locked up in terror as a blindfold was suddenly tied around his eyes and a hand found his way over his mouth.

To his horror, Castiel felt himself begin to shake slightly as he let out a whimper.

“Shh..” The man hushed him, pressing a kiss to Castiel’s jaw.

Castiel knew he should have been terrified of that kiss but something about this just seemed so familiar.. and then it clicked. “Dean?” He asked but it came out muffled.

He had seemed to understand it because he pulled his hand back with a chuckle. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel gasped and went to turn around but Dean stopped him and Castiel felt fur on both his wrists and he let out a huff of amusement. “Furry handcuffs?”

“I didn’t make fun of you for using it.” Dean said as he began to lead him.

Castiel walked, frowning slightly when it felt like he had walked at least a block. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Was Dean’s response as he ran a hand down his arm. “This is my revenge and I can do what I want.” He stated.

Castiel felt his heart sink all over again. “I’m sorry for what I did, Dean.” He said in a defeated voice.

He was suddenly pulled to a stop and turned around by Dean. “Don’t be.” He said simply and then there were soft lips on him and it felt so right but wrong all over again.

Before Castiel had the chance to kiss back Dean pulled away and pulled the blindfold away. Castiel squinted as his eyes were suddenly assaulted with light again. He blinked a few times then looked around in amazement.

They were in a gazebo and there were lights hanging inside the entirety of the structure. Castiel looked back to Dean with wide eyes. “Where.. Where are we?” He asked softly.

Dean grinned at him and moved closer, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist. “Back of the art gallery. I have another surprise late.” He said, smiling softly as he began to sway them back and forth, dancing without music.

Castiel wrapped his arms around his neck and, moved with him, biting his lip lightly. “I don’t… I don’t understand. I kidnapped you.”

“Yeah, well… You made me like you too so you only have yourself to blame.” Dean teased softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

Castiel watched him with soft eyes a moment before leaning in and kissing Dean softly. They shared chaste kisses as they swayed together for a while before Dean pulled away and took his hand, tugging up up to the art gallery doors. Castiel laughed at Dean’s excitement all they way until he suddenly stopped.

Castiel looked up, quieting as he met Dean’s eyes. Dean was looking at him expectantly and a moment later he understood why.

His picture. Hanging up. His work of art in an art gallery. His landscape-turned-portrait of Dean in an art gallery.

It was overwhelming, seeing something he had made up there and he felt himself tear up. He had tried to get some of his other pieces into shows before but was always denied and now… He felt like a real artist for the first time in a long time, he felt that his family was wrong about him. “Dean.. There’s no way I can repay you for this.” He whispered.

“Sure there is!” Dean said cheerily, smiling as he pulled Castiel into his side. “Go on a date with me.”

Castiel tore his eyes from the wall and looked up at Dean in shock. After a moment he gave Dean a shy smile and nodded. “Okay.”

[thorniest-rose]

A “when you kiss me” Christmas interlude

A couple of days ago an anon asked me if Richie would ever buy Eddie a collar with a heart-shaped ring, which inspired me to write this, set within my “When you kiss me” verse when Richie and Eddie are teens. The usual warnings apply for Richie being intense and a bit mean; Richie and Eddie having an emotionally and physically charged relationship; plus dirty talk & dom/sub undertones.

“I've got you a present for you,” Richie says when he’s finished kissing Eddie.

Eddie opens his eyes, blinking from where they’ve been clenched shut. “What?” he asks, as Richie digs his fingers into the skin under his Christmas sweater.

It was Christmas Eve and the Kaspbrak and Uris families had been invited to the Denbrough household for drinks. It was something his mom would usually have declined, but even she seemed to be in happier spirits with Christmas here. Not that Eddie was thrilled. Eddie had spent the entire evening in the Denbroughs’ living room, smiling politely at everyone’s parents and frowning as Richie and Bill slipped booze into their drinks from the Denbroughs’ minibar. Eddie was being good and quietly drinking Shirley Temples, though he’d almost spilled one down his sweater when Mrs Tozier said what a "beautiful young man" he was, going red from the attention and seeing Richie smirk in the corner of his eye.

“He’s a sweetheart, isn’t he?” Richie had said, throwing Eddie a shit-eating grin when he shot daggers at him from behind his glass.

As they were swapping presents, Eddie offered to put Bill's gift in his bedroom, mostly so he could get a breather from the looks Richie had been giving him all night. Not knowing Richie had slipped out behind him when the parents were talking. As soon as he was in Bill’s room, he was on Eddie, pressing him up against the wall by Bill’s bed and ambushing him with a hard kiss.

"You already gave me my presents, Richie," Eddie says now, his lips tingling. Richie always kissed him hard, especially when he’d been away from Eddie.

"I know but this is an extra special one. Do you want to see it or not?"

Eddie nods, feeling dazed from the kiss. Richie smiles, reaching down for his backpack. The next thing, he's pressing a box into Eddie's hands. 

It's small and cream-coloured, with a soft bow tied around it, and Eddie swallows as he opens it. Because Richie's got that smile on his face. The one that means he's particularly proud of himself for something. And that could be very good or very bad for Eddie. Richie had the same smile when he’d put his fingers inside Eddie for the first time earlier in the year, tapping his fingers against that special sensitive spot until Eddie couldn’t take it anymore and had started crying from how good it felt. Eddie still gets embarrassed thinking about it.

Inside the box is a swell of soft tissue paper. Eddie pauses, pushing it aside. It’s all strangely elegant considering it’s from Richie. He’s about to ask if Beverly had chosen whatever the present is, but then he sees what’s nestled at the bottom of the box. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath. It’s a collar in light pastel blue with a metal heart ring at the front. His eyes shoot up to Richie’s smirking face.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes," Eddie says, voice a shudder.

Richie draws a finger under Eddie’s chin, tilts his face up so he can look him in the eyes when he says, "Promised I'd get you one, didn't I?”

And Richie had, though it was in the heat of the moment, when he was running his mouth in Eddie's ear about collaring him and putting him in his place as Eddie was on the verge of coming. He didn't think he'd actually do it.

The collar looks so soft, so pretty where it sits innocently on its bed of tissue paper, and all Eddie wants is to feel it around his neck right now.

"Can I put it on now?"

He reaches out, but Richie grabs his hand. Gives it a warning squeeze.

"No."

"What? Why?"

“First of all, you’re not putting it on. I’m putting it on you. Secondly, when I put it on you, you’re not going to be taking it off for a while.”

Eddie bites down on his bottom lip. Feels a quiver run through him from his head to his toes at Richie’s words. 

"Why even show me then?"

"Because I want you to look forward to it."

Richie lets go of Eddie’s hand, lets him trail his fingers over the soft, buttery leather of the collar. Over the smooth metal of the heart-shaped ring.

“Where did you get it?”

“In New York last month when I went to that concert with Beverly.”

All of Eddie’s breath is punched out of him because Richie had been planning this. “Oh my god, Richie,” he says, though it comes out as a moan.

Richie smiles at him softly. “Poor baby, getting overwhelmed.” He runs his hands down Eddie’s arms, where he’s visibly trembling, eyes locked on the collar. 

“When do you think you’ll be able to get away from the house?”

Eddie shakes his head. His aunts were in town for the holidays and who knows how long he’d have to be cooped up in the house with them. “I don’t know. Not tomorrow and not the next day. Maybe the day after that?”

“Okay. How long do you think you can get away for?”

“I don’t know. My... my... my-” his words fizzle out. All he can think about is the collar still on display in front of him, how much he wants to feel it around his neck. It was so sweet, with its powder-blue leather and delicate heart.

“My my my,” Richie mocks lowly. “Christ, spit it out, baby. Just because you’re at Bill’s doesn’t mean you have to catch his stutter.”

Eddie scowls at him, tearing his eyes from the collar. “That’s mean, Richie. And Bill’s been doing a lot better recently, you know that.”

“Oh yeah, because you’ve been over here every week doing those fucking dumb vocal exercises with him, that’s why.”

Eddie arches an eyebrow. “Jealous, Tozier?”

And that smirk is back, creeping over Richie’s face. The one that always means Eddie’s about to get it. He feels himself getting hard, suddenly wants that smirk on Richie’s face as he puts the collar on him, more than fucking anything.

“I would be jealous if you weren’t gagging for my dick every time we hung out,” Richie murmurs, leaning in to drag his nose along Eddie’s jaw. 

The words burn through Eddie. They weren’t true, Eddie couldn’t be that obvious about how Richie made him feel, but Richie made him feel like it was. Always made him feel like he was one second away from begging.

“Maybe I could come to yours and do some anti-asshole lessons with you instead? Think you might benefit from that.”

Richie’s eyes are dark when he lifts his head. “Shut the fuck up, yeah?”

Oh god. Eddie feels himself go so hard it hurts. Because he loves it when Richie talks to him like that. He’d never admit it out loud, can’t explain why even to himself, but when Richie gets mean, it makes him feel like he’s on fire.

He looks Richie in the eye and says, “Why don’t you make me?”

Richie grins at him, gazing at him from under his lashes. “You’re such a brat. I leave you alone for two days and this is what I get.”

“Is that why you’re going to put-” he looks down at the collar, “that on me?”

“That, sure, and because you’re gonna look so fucking pretty in it.” He drags one of his fingers along the pale column of Eddie’s throat, right where the collar would sit. “My pretty baby boy in his beautiful blue collar, right?”

Eddie can’t do anything but nod. He’d always snapped when Richie called him things like that before. But now when Richie’s touching him, or fucking him, and calls him things like pretty baby, Eddie moans so loud, clamps his thighs harder around Richie’s waist where he’s sunk inside him, he just can’t help it.

Richie looks at him like he knows exactly what Eddie’s thinking.

"God, I wanna fuck you so bad," he says, eyes almost black.

He looks around, eyes flitting across Bill’s room, and Eddie can see he’s actually considering it. Fucking Eddie in Bill’s bed. And Eddie does want it, has felt empty ever since Richie last fucked him, but they can’t do that here. They only have a few more minutes until people notice they’re both gone, and anyway, Richie likes taking him bare. How can he be expected to sit out there with everyone, next to his mom, talking to the Denbroughs, with Richie’s cum inside him?

"We can't, Richie, not here. Anyway," he blushes, "we did it two days ago." Not that Eddie was counting the days or anything. Not that he was always achingly aware of how long it had been since Richie fucked him by how sore he felt.

Richie just shakes his head. "It's not enough. I need to be inside you all the fucking time. Feel like I'm going crazy when I'm not in you."

Eddie shivers; he knows exactly what Richie means. How empty and alone he feels when he’s not with Richie. Like nothing else matters. Like a huge piece of him has been taken away and all he can do is lie around and do nothing. It scares him sometimes, how much he needs Richie just to breathe.

“I’ll get away the day after tomorrow, I promise,” he says, before placing a gentle kiss to the tip of Richie’s nose.

Richie smiles at him. “Good. My sweet baby.”

Eddie looks down at the collar again, the one that he wants so badly around his neck now. "What are you going to do with the collar, Richie?”

“Oh baby,” Richie croons, making the hairs on the back of Eddie’s arms stand up. “I have plans for you. As soon as you get to mine I’m gonna make you strip. Then I’m gonna put it on you. Make you sit at my feet all fucking day wearing nothing but the collar while I play video games and smoke a joint.”

“Oh my god, Richie.” Because Richie would do that, would put him on his knees and make him wait. And Eddie knows deep down that he’d like it.

“And then I’m going to take pictures of you in it.”

Eddie slumps against the wall, going boneless from the thought of Richie taking pictures of him. He moans as Richie leans in and starts kissing him again, these sharp, nipping kisses against his face, his neck, his collarbone where his skin is covered in purple marks. As he kisses him, Richie drags his hand down the front of Eddie’s jeans, palms him roughly where he’s hard against his zipper. Eddie arches against him, making the most pathetic little noise he’s ever heard.

Richie releases the delicate skin on his shoulder to pant in Eddie’s ear. “I know you get shy, Eds,” he says, with a lick to his ear, “but I’m going to make you use your words when you come over. Okay, baby? You’re going to beg for the collar, my cock, and my cum, all in that order. Sound good?"

Eddie just nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth, because that's all he can do. Because when Richie gives him orders like this, in that assertive way of his, everything inside him feels like it’s been replaced with clouds.

But that’s not good enough for Richie, who taps his cheek sharply with two fingers. “Come on, don’t do that floaty thing right now. Tell me.”

“Yes Richie,” he says obediently, “sounds good.”

Richie grins, the toothy one where his pointed canines come out, and presses Eddie harder to the wall when there’s a rap on the door.

The boys break apart instantly. Eddie soothes back his hair and the creases in his sweater as Richie closes the box quickly.

It’s Bill who peeks his head into the room, looking at Richie suspiciously where he hovers near Eddie. “W-what are you guys doing in here?”

“Can I not catch up with a dearest friend on Christmas Eve, my good chap?” he asks in his Victorian English accent.

Bill ignores him, eyes mapping Eddie’s red cheeks and rumpled sweater. “Are you okay, Eddie?”

“I’m good, thanks Bill, we’ll be back in a minute,” Eddie says, smiling shakily.

Bill looks between them once more and closes the door. 

“Richie, we should go,” Eddie says as they listen to Bill’s footsteps disappearing down the hallway. He reluctantly pushes against Richie’s shoulders to stop him from pressing Eddie against the wall again. 

“Sure,” Richie says amiably, flicking a finger against Eddie’s chin. It hurts, and Eddie glares at him as he rubs his hand against the sting. “But I’m taking the collar with me. Can’t trust you not to put it on when you get home tonight.”

Eddie pouts at him, making Richie laugh. “There’s no need for that now.” 

He leans in and gives Eddie’s top lip one last, heavy lick, savours Eddie’s little moan, and says, “Merry Christmas, Kaspbrak" in his husky voice. 

The next thing he’s gone, slipping out of the door with a wink and leaving Eddie there with his thin chest heaving, hard in his pants, neck itching with how much he wants to be collared. He thinks about having to sit out there again with a Shirley Temple and he groans. The next few hours were going to be hard.

[jimtheviking]

Ungrateful shit approaching:

Think I pinpointed why I don’t particularly like christmas, other than christmas eve, because that’s when everyone on my mom’s side gets together and we just hang out and shoot the shit and cook and drink and eat and, you know, be.

Anyway, my folks have never really gotten the idea that Mark and I aren’t kids any more, and so they constantly buy us stuff that is stuff we’d have liked when we were young. Case in point, they got Mark (and his step-sons) plastic toy trucks because, when Mark was a kid, he loved playing with Tonka toys. For me, they got me a bunch of Star Wars socks (Storm Troopers, Darth Vader, and R2 - I really would only wear the R2 ones?) three books I already own, and a Young Adult Encyclopedia of Classical Greek Mythology. Which, you know, is cool, but also...not really my thing.

The stuff they got me that I did really like, though, are things they thought were gag gifts: A really nice pair of convertible fingerless gloves, a super cozy woven hoodie, and a couple really nice pairs of green socks - I’ve never had green socks! Green is my favourite colour! They’re awesome!

I just...don’t like stuff. I mean, if it’s hand-made I will love the hell out of it. I have worn the scarf and hat Nonna knit me every winter for 5 years now, for example, and when my friends make me things I wear them all the time I can. Hell, my friend Sand gave me a 3l pot that works on my crappy induction stovetop, and it is awesome, because now I can make sauces in decent quantity or regular portions of soup and the like without using up the big 8l pot I bought.

Does that make me lame and boring? Maybe so. But I’m a lame and boring dude, and I feel shitty when I don’t particularly care about the stuff my folks buy while thinking I’ll like it.

It’s tiring keeping up that act.

Anyway, christmas christmas if that’s your thing. Happy Friday if it’s not.

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Memories To Give

Gif credit @chriscrosscerulli

Requested by Anon. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting.

Happy Reading Dollies.

Taglist: @chriscrosscerulli. @ryansitkowskiswifey. @nocturnalherb16. @ilovetaquitosmmmm. @alilpunkrock. @musicsexandpizza69. @myanaconda-will-consider1t. @thisplace-ishaunted. @baylishh

"Who'd you get? Who'd you get"? Vinny asked jumping up and down on the bus trying to look over your shoulder at the piece of paper in your hand.

"Go away. It's a secret". You pushed his chest with your hand.

"Come on, I'll tell you mine". He begged, you groaned at the man child standing in front of you.

"No, I want to keep it a secret this time. Unlike last year, you couldn't keep your little trap shut and told Chris that I got him". He huffed crossing his arms, like a kid about to throw the biggest tantrum.

"You got me didn't you"? He smirked.

"No, I will tell you that". You stuck out your tongue and walked to the bunk that you shared with Ryan.

Sliding in he was on his computer typing away. You snuggled into his arm.

"Whatcha doing"?

"Trying to find something for Ricky, he told me something he wanted a while ago but he has it now so that plan is out the window. I don't know what to get a guy that has everything and has a tendency to buy things on the spot". He chuckled scratching his bearded chin.

"I agree, how can you get something when the little maggot goes and buys it anyways when you specifically tell them you're getting it"? You perk you lips out with your index finger on your cheek, pretending to think.

"I forgot, I'm sorry". Ryan laughed.

"I'm sure you are". You rolled your eyes.

"So who do you think has me"? Ryan asked as he scrolled through his phone.

"Probably Vinny, he's been hinting".

"Oh yeah"?

"Well he could have me then since he did ask what I wanted".

"And what did you tell him"?

"Lingerie". You smirked, Ryan's eyes turned red.

"You didn't"?

"Yeah, I texted him a pair of star wars underwear that I wanted".

"Y/N"? He groaned, shutting his phone off.

"What? You're supposed to get something you want and I really want these underwear weither it comes from him or not, I'm getting them".

"You're going to make the kid have a heart attack, if he has to go into Victoria secret".

"He can order them online. I also gave him your account information so he won't have it coming to his parents. Chill out".

"You got this all planned out don't you"?

"Yeah, except one thing. Something for you".

"I don't want anything, you're everything that I have ever wanted and I couldn't be happier".

"You're my boyfriend so I have to get you something".

"Well there is something that I have been wanting for awhile". He wrapped his hand around your throat and attacked your lips roughly, biting your bottom lip making you moan.

"I think I can give you that". You straddled his waist, deepening the kiss.

While Ryan slept beside you after a afternoon that turned into night time of rough and passionate sex you sat on your computer thinking of something you could give him and one thing popped into mind.

You emailed a few friends and family asking for pictures of Ryan and you. You called your mom and asked if she could go to your place and gather a box of memories that you had stored from your relationship with Ryan. She was going to mail it to you just in time before Christmas.

Not having much privacy made it hard to do what you wanted to do so you had to make the best of it. While the guys were on stage you worked, while Ryan was asleep you worked. You skipped lunch and sometimes dinner just to finish it on time. It was cutting it close cause tomorrow was Christmas.

"Please, Chris, please get him out of here. I need just a few more hours". You begged Chris to take Ryan somewhere anywhere just away from the tour bus.

"Fine, okay. But you owe me. I was going to do my nails today". He sipped his coffee.

"Then that's my Christmas present to you, a day of pampering".

"You have my name again"?

"No, but I know how important your nails and me time is to you". Chris sighed with a smile.

"I'll take Ryan out for a few hours cause I know how important Ryan is to you and how much hard work you're putting into this gift for him".

"Thank you so much, Chris". You hugged him and then went to get Ryan.

"What am I doing again"? Ryan asked dragging his feet not wanting to leave his bunk.

"You're going to find Ricky a present and you need some sunshine. You're looking whiter than usual".

"Fine, I'll go". He kissed your head and grabbed his coat off the end of the bed, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally going to finish his gift.

"We're back". You heard Chris coming in loudly as a warning. Putting the last piece on the box you quickly shoved it under Chris's bed and cleaned up the last of the materials.

"Hey, did you find something for your secret Santa"?

"Yeah". Ryan slumped down on the bunk.

"You okay"?

"Ricky got socks. I couldn't find him anything else".

"Socks? He'll love them".

"Yeah, right. I'm a horrible gift giver". He handed you the bag with the socks. Pulling out the bat and glitter socks, you knew he tried and that's all that mattered.

"He'll like these. Rickys into bats and glitter just not when it gets on him but I think he'll be surprised".

"We'll see". You kissed his head and went to the front of the bus getting him a drink.

"Take a nap and soon it'll be Christmas".

"You feel like cuddling"? He took your hand in his.

"With you? Always". Getting into bed Ryan snuggled into your breast, wrapping his arm around you, getting nice and warm slowly drifting off to sleep.

You were sleeping so good that when Ryan jumped on you, didn't move a muscle.

"Y/N, it's Christmas". He nuzzled his nose into your warm neck.

"Good morning". You wrapped your arms around him, giving him a tight squeeze.

"I love you". Ryan kissed you and wiggled out of your grip, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the front of the bus. All the guys were there in their Christmas pjs, had their hot Coco and were already opening up presents.

"Come sit with me". Ryan pointed to the seat on the couch.

"In a sec, I need to use the bathroom and then I'll be back". Ryan nodded and headed to his seat as you did go to the bathroom and then sneaked back to the bunk and grabbed Ryan's gift.

"Oh Ryan I love them". Ricky gasped as he looked at his socks.

"Right, overdramatic much". Ryan and Ricky both laughed.

Vinny handed you a bag with a blushing face.

You opened the bag and pulled out a pair of Star Wars underwear and a matching bra to go with it.

"Thank you Vinny, but how did you know my size on the bra"?

"Ryan may have helped with that. If it doesnt fit the receipt is in the bag so you can take it back".

"Thank you".

"And thank you". You kissed Ryan's cheek.

"I hope to see you wear those".

"Oh, you'll be the first person to see them on me and the first person and only to take them off me". You smirked making Vinny and the others gag.

"I cant believe I gave you something for your sex life. I'm a dealer". Everyone busted into laughter.

Picking up the box you handed it to Ryan, he slowly undid the bow and unwrapped the wrapping paper. Then the big reveal happened. Ryan opened the box to find a shadow box of picture of the two of you, movie tickets from your first date. The first letter he wrote to you the first time he left for tour when you first got together. The first paper he wrote I love you on. A song that he wrote for just you. The necklaces you both made for each other and a few sea shells when he asked you to move in with him.

"This is incredible. You did this for me"?

"I wanted something special and meaningful. You mean so much to me that I couldn't find something that says that so I made this and put everything that had a special moment in our lives in it".

"I'm speechless. You're so amazing. I love it and I love you beyond words". He hugged you tightly.

"I love you too". You pecked his lips.

"Merry Christmas".

"Merry Christmas and to many more memories to come".

[incoherentbabblings]

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (10/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Ao3 Link Here!

Alfred was the one to come in and rouse them that morning. They hadn’t managed to get much sleep, instead quite content to just lay holding each other and talking. It was only when they heard Bruce return from patrol, did Tim finally push for them to at least catch a couple of hours rest. When Alfred came in, Stephanie, a little embarrassed at being caught, buried herself under the sheets, whilst Tim kept his head above to speak to the Butler.

“Hi, Alfred.”

“Good morning to you both. Ready for the day?”

“Serious question?”

Alfred smiled. “I’ve brought your breakfasts up, then Ms Andrews is arriving in two hours. I thought it would be best to put the bride in Miss Cassandra’s room. I have had it tidied to a presentable state.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” Stephanie hummed from under the sheets.

“You are welcome.” Alfred paused as he left the tray next to Tim on the dresser. If he noticed the scattered clothes from last night laying around the bed, he did not comment. “Best of luck today.” He added, mirth gone for just a moment.

Tim nodded an acknowledgement, and then Alfred left the room.

Tim got up, Stephanie poking her head out from under the sheets to watch as he put on underwear.

“You’re staring.” He joked.

“Can’t I?”

He pulled out a threadbare t-shirt, the kind which was oversized and what he used to wear when he was a teenager, and flung it at her. Still awkwardly trying to preserve her modesty, she wriggled it on like a worm, then got up to join him eating a slice of toast and a small bowl of fruit yoghurt.

She hugged him from behind. Tim was thin and lean, with not much soft skin to grab. That didn’t really matter to her though, because it meant he ended up being something solid to cling to. Always there when she needed him. He reached down and held her forearms and she pressed kiss after kiss to his shoulder.

“Okay?” He said.

“Mm. Let me ask you that.”

She felt his chest heave, and he took her question seriously. “I envy you. How you can just bounce back.”

“We’re not our worst moments. I forget sometimes. But I always remember. Thanks to you and Bruce and Babs…”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You do a lot of the hard work too.”

“Hmm. Do you believe that though?”

“Believe what?”

“That we’re not our worst moments.”

He held her hand which was holding his tummy. “For you? Yes. For Dick? Yes. For me and Bruce…”

“Why?”

“It’s hard… to let go of everything. Really hard. Some days I still open my eyes and I, like, want more than anything for my mom to be the one to wake me up. She didn’t get the chance to very often and now on today of all days… She and my dad should be here. I can’t let that go.”

“Of all days? Tim… this isn’t for real.”

Tim stared at his closet, thinking of the one ring that remained to be gifted to Stephanie. “No.” He said. “But, maybe…”

Whatever Tim was going to say, he didn’t get the chance to as Dick kicked in the door.

“Morning! Ready to –”

Dick paused as he realized Tim was in his underwear and Steph was wearing his t-shirt. Both turned around, looking like deer caught in car headlights. If Tim was expecting Dick to start teasing him again, Dick surprised him, and he just smiled brightly.

“Cass says to hurry up, Steph.”

She let go of Tim. “Right. Okay.” She ducked around Tim to grab some toast and the glass of juice. “See you in a few, then?”

He kissed her, not bothering to hide it anymore, though the kiss was not as firm as he would have liked considering her hands were full, and said his goodbye. She padded away, and Tim would not see her again until she joined him at the Cathedral. When she shut the door behind her, Dick turned back to Tim, eyes bright and curious.

“We’ve been sleeping in the same bed since Bishop Sherborne’s death.” Tim answered before the question could be asked. Dick’s cheeks blew up like a pufferfish.

“What? No, no! How could you not tell me?”

“You would make fun of me!”

“I would never! So, have you…”

Tim burned red and Dick laughed so loudly and exuberantly it reminded Tim of one of Harley Quinn’s hyenas. “Ah! No! I could’ve given you advice!”

“I am not discussing this!”

“No, no,” said Dick, quickly making Tim’s bed and piling up the abandoned clothes in Tim’s laundry basket. As if it were the correct place for clothes that expensive. As he had done the night before, he sat on the bed, though Tim noticed he sat at the very foot, perched as little as possible on the mattress. “Before Damian gets here though... It was good?”

Something about the innocuous nature of the question set Tim off. “It was perfect. And it was with the girl I love more than anything and...”

Dick looked so happy at his brother’s breathless excitement that Tim just smiled back. He sat next to Dick, positively glowing.

“Worth the wait?” Dick asked.

“Yeah.” Tim sighed, and flopped back. “We promised, that no matter what happens after today, we’ll stay together for the aftermath. Bruce can go take a running jump.”

Dick squeezed Tim’s shoulder. “Don’t think you have to worry about Bruce’s approval for you two going forward.”

“Huh?”

Dick jerked his jaw over to the door. “Go have a shower and brush your teeth. Got a wedding to go to.”

Once again, after getting ready, Tim spent an uncomfortably long time fixing his hair. Damian had come in and out repeatedly, his boredom making him fidgety. When Tim had heard that the designer had arrived, he poked his head out the door, curious, but saw nothing particularly of interest about the woman. He didn’t really want to speak to her, for he knew he would have nothing to say.

Thanks very much for doing the job you’re being paid huge amounts of money to do. Or, Hey, you’re not a serial killer, are you? Both seemed a little blasé.

Cassandra also seemed to click something was off about Stephanie, and watched as the girl got ready for a shower.

“You’re walking funny.”

Stephanie dropped the towel in a spasm of panic. As she scrambled to pick it up, her brain conjured an excuse. “Oh my God. Cassandra.” She glared. “My leg is a little sore today. I spent a lot of yesterday on my feet.”

Cassandra would have accepted this, but when Stephanie came out of the shower in a towel, she saw the hickeys along Steph’s shoulders.

“Oh!”

Stephanie frantically put her finger up to her lip, begging Cassandra to be quiet. Cass bit her lip and pressed both hands to her face. She looked like a child at Christmas.

“Tim?” Cass breathlessly asked.

“Yes.” Stephanie hissed.

If she was expecting Cassandra to insist on Stephanie baring her heart and what had happened the past two months, she was surprised when instead Cass zeroed in on another facet. Still pressing her cheeks into a fish puckered look, Cassandra exclaimed,

“I didn’t know he bites!”

“Cassandra! God, can this wait until it’s all over, yeah?”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes but did not push.

“I’m going to get your makeup ready. I found a tutorial which looks good.” She said instead.

When Rebecca arrived, Cassandra did not hide how she wanted to be the one to help Stephanie get dressed, and made Rebecca sit to the side.

Stephanie had done her own makeup and Cass had helped with the hair. She had practiced on Stephanie over and over when given the chance, and as a result Stephanie had her hair braided into a crown, bangs and stray hairs curled to make her look softer. Cassandra had grown up practicing something until it became second nature, and so doing Stephanie’s hair was no different. It was when Stephanie looked to Cassandra, and asked what Cass was doing with her own hair, that they ran into difficulty. Cass had blinked, like the thought had never occurred to her, and Stephanie made her sit, so she could flat iron curl Cass’s raggedy mop, pinning in the white cherry and orange blossoms that Stephanie would also wear. It was the girliest moment the two of them had ever shared, but Stephanie thought Cassandra was enjoying the pampering.

Rebecca did some finishing hand stitches whilst Stephanie spent the longest time doing eyeliner and applying false lashes. She tended not to bother with most of this stuff. Concealer, mascara, out the door. She had escaped teenage acne (she tried not to think about the impact having a baby so young had done to her body), but she had bags under her eyes that on her worst mornings took up most of her eye sockets. Cassandra sat, peering over the woman’s shoulder, all dressed in her golden gown. She was not so subtly also watching Rebecca watch Stephanie, who was trying very hard to remain focused on her face.

Tim, meanwhile, was still fussing with his hair. Damian was lying on the floor, the cats and dogs smothering him in his boredom, whilst Dick annoyingly tapped his fingers on a dresser.

“…Do you want advice?”

“On?”

“Weddings. Since I’ve been to a few more of them than Damian or Bruce here.”

The joke was both a needle at Bruce’s non-presence and Dick’s strange running gag of making it to the altar, and Tim laughed.

“Sure.”

Dick grew frustrated watching Tim mess up his hair, so walked over and pulled his shoulders back.

“Let me do it, Tim.”

Feeling more than a little like a monkey being groomed, Tim let Dick fuss, especially after he saw Damian’s eyes glinting with jealousy that Tim was the centre of attention.

“You’re probably gonna feel like smiling or crying. That’s totally fine. Don’t try to act all stoic. You end up just looking constipated and your tummy will hurt.”

“Right.”

“Nothing is ever perfect. Something is going to go wrong. Don’t freak. Just take a breath, let it go, keep moving forward.”

“Right...”

Tim got the feeling the advice was less to do with weddings and more to do with life in general. Dick finished fixing Tim’s hair, then looked so deeply sad for a moment that Tim didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Just don’t waste your time with her.” Dick concluded.

“…Right.” Tim’s phone buzzed. “Time to go.”

Dick nodded. “Hold on. Damian, there’s a lint roller on the mantelpiece. You’re not going anywhere covered in cat and dog hair.”

Damian grumbled, but did as he was bid. Dick when he was in mother hen mode was a veritable hurricane of bossiness, and it was best indulged.

For the girls, Stephanie watched as the car drove away, being nosy and peaking at Tim in his black suit as they rolled down the gravel lane. She didn’t think anyone saw her through the window.

Alfred came in holding two boxes.

“The veil, which Master Bruce’s great-grandmother wore, and the earrings, which were…”

He trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. Rebecca watched, eyes flittering between the trio, tugging a little too harshly on her stitches.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“You are welcome. I must say Mrs van Rijk has arrived with her flock of workers. I have half the mind to stay behind and make sure she behaves.”

Stephanie smiled, lips stretched as she was putting on her lipstick.

“No, you can’t! How else are Cassandra and I to get to the church?”

“Oh, I am sure you would find a way.” If there was one thing Stephanie had learned the past few weeks, it was that Alfred was as much of a control freak as Bruce and Tim, albeit his areas of expertise differed to the vigilantes.

“We’d run if we had to.” Cassandra said, not entirely joking.

Rebecca snipped the last of the thread and sighed, her eyes admiring her own work. “Right. That’s it. Anymore and I’m just fiddling. Let’s get you dressed.”

Stephanie blotted her lips, then did as she was told. Alfred remained present as an extra pair of hands, though Stephanie wasn’t particularly embarrassed of him watching her get dressed. Alfred was Alfred.

He handed her Martha’s earrings and pulled out the veil. They had practiced a few times how and where it would be kept in place, and sure enough, with Alfred doing the job, she soon had the front thrown over her, clouding up her sight.

It was a mid-length veil, as her dress train was already long enough without one extra layer making her look like a moving cloud. Handing Stephanie her bouquet, Cassandra bounced up and down.

“You look beautiful!”

Stephanie smiled genuinely. Rebecca watched with a pinched face, then finally she smiled.

“Okay, I’m off to the Cathedral now. I’ll see you there.”

“Thank you, Rebecca. I can’t say that enough.”

She turned around, staring at Stephanie by the window. She looked like she was about to cry.

“You’re welcome. Definitely one of my more beautiful brides!”

Stephanie looked at her feet hidden under the tulle skirt, looking ever so modest.

The lace of the bodice was a modern pattern which avoided looking like a doily. As Rebecca had promised, she had given Stephanie a high bateau neckline that plummeted in a v-shape down her spine to her lower waist. The sleeves went all the way past her thumb, creating an illusion that her arms were slimmer and longer than reality. Her already small waist had the skirt structured in such a way that it jutted almost horizontally out before cascading down and back. As the train was nearly seven feet long, it was an almighty skirt. With the flowers in her hair, earrings as her only jewellery, and a veil which left her hands free and covered her back, she looked fey and not entirely belonging of this world (or at the very least, Gotham).

“Indeed!” Alfred agreed. “Certainly, in my top three.”

Stephanie laughed as Alfred showed Rebecca the way out, and Cassandra tutted.

“She’s terrified.”

“Rebecca? Of what? Another death or getting caught?”

“Don’t know. And Bruce wouldn’t say.”

“But why? And where is he anyway? He’s supposed to be coming with me to the cathedral. I haven’t seen him all morning.”

Under normal circumstances, Stephanie would have been pacing and gesticulating, but as she was, hair arranged just so, dress so expertly tailored that she felt one dramatic turn would rip a seam, Stephanie remained static, fingers trying very hard to not start ripping off the flower heads of her bouquet.

Unhelpfully, Cassandra shrugged.

Alfred returned, and abruptly shame ran through Stephanie. Alfred sighed very happily at the sight of her, and tugged on his driving gloves.

“I am very much looking forward to this. Haven’t attended a wedding in decades.”

Cassandra left to grab a camera, hoisting up the skirt of her long dress so she could skip down the steps quicker. Alfred held out an arm, Stephanie reached for him, and they made their way out and down the stairs. Cassandra took several shots as they walked. The photos were never going to see the light of day, so Stephanie wasn’t sure for what purpose Cassandra was taking them.

When they reached the car, Cassandra and Alfred helped Stephanie get in, carefully piling the skirt around her so she wasn’t too uncomfortable for the drive over. Cassandra sat next to her with little fuss, her dress more streamlined and form hugging. It was bright yellow, as was decreed by the colour scheme, with a jewelled neckline and long sleeves. It was by far the most feminine Cass had ever been. Stephanie had asked if she was okay with this. If shit hit the fan on the day, if a fight were to ensue, Cassandra would have been hindered by the clothes. Cassandra had simply shrugged. It’s just a dress, she’d said. And fabric can be torn.

Stephanie conceded that Cass had a point. The girl would probably just flat out strip in the Cathedral if it meant she could fight easier. A complete disinterest in societal norms gave her a certain leverage someone like Stephanie or Tim could not as easily reach.

Alfred went to shut the door, but Stephanie reached out for him before he could do so.

“Alfred… Bruce can’t be happy with me wearing his family’s stuff like this. You can’t be happy.”

Alfred knelt with only the slightest of grunts, and took her hand.

“They are Master Bruce’s to give, and he insisted. And I agree. They are not going to get any use from Miss Cassandra, and I do not think that is a controversial statement.”

“It’s not.” Cass said, holding the bouquet and taking Steph’s other hand. Alfred nodded approvingly.

“So, as is the way with these things, it instead goes to the significant others of the male children. Just as Janet Drake’s items have passed to you. This is no different. This is all a means to a good end. Rather extravagant means if you ask me, but, alas, it’s been fun to pretend regardless. And I do not know what will happen five or ten years down the road. Maybe you’ll be gifted them again.”

“Alfred…”

“Mustn’t delay!” He stood up and got in the driver’s seat. “It is acceptable for the bride to be late, but it is not a habit we want to encourage.”

It had yet to start raining, but the air was muggy, and the clouds were dark. A few workers were coming in and out of the manor, setting up for the reception that, if all went to plan, would never be held. One or two people waved at the car, and Steph found herself waving back. One lady was jumping up and down she seemed so excited for Stephanie.

As they drove in, Cassandra asked, “Alfred, is Bruce already at the Cathedral?”

“Possibly,” Alfred answered, smoothly making his way across the island. “He came back very early this morning almost to immediately leave again.

“He told me if he was late, to start without him.” Stephanie said.

“Did he?” Alfred did not sound amused. “Oh, that’s no good. He must have a card up his sleeve.”

Stephanie made a little grunt and watched the streets as they drove through town. Cassandra’s hand was still in hers, and they were holding tightly onto each other.

She could hear the Cathedral bells before she could see the building. Bright, joyous ringing of bells indicative of a celebration. Her throat began to tighten, and Cassandra’s hands fidgeted in response.

“Oh wow!” Cassandra exclaimed. “They did have to put barriers up then?”

“So, it seems.”

“Huh?” Stephanie leaned forward as they slowed down and parked, looking over Cassandra’s shoulder. Behind the makeshift metal fencing, was a not insignificant number of people who looked like they had been waiting all morning for her arrival. When she caught their eyes, they began to cheer and wave.

“Oh.”

Alfred got out, first letting Cassandra out her side. Cass gleefully waved to the spectators, enjoying the positive attention, before making her way around to Stephanie’s door.

“People always like a high society wedding.” Alfred explained. “And we are the first family of Gotham, after all.”

Stephanie took Alfred’s hand and pulled herself out of the car. Cassandra dragged the rest of her skirt out, and Alfred got back in the car to drive it away. He would return quickly, before the ceremony started, and once the car was removed from blocking the view, Stephanie tried not to jump at the borderline hysterical screams that seemed to be coming from across the road.

Cassandra was fiddling, straightening her train and veil but Stephanie didn’t miss her whisper of, “Wave to them! They came to see you.”

Slowly, stiffly, Stephanie rotated at her hips, looking over her shoulder, to see a lot of very happy faces, all waving and smiling and cheering.

Gotham had its name for a reason. The city was oftentimes unendurably grim. People stayed here for one of three reasons: they had no viable option of selling up shop and leaving, they actively profited over the misfortune of its residents, or they tried desperately hard to prove there was something in this city worth staying for. The Wayne family, for all its flaws and scandals, were the highest profile example that the city had of the latter, and it had endeared them to the rest of the city’s residents. No-one with that much money would willingly spend that much time and effort into the city’s improvement, especially for someone like Bruce, who’s childhood had been ruined by the city’s worst inhabitants, unless they truly believed there was something worth salvaging.

It had been one of the things Tim and Bruce had put out in their statement, all those weeks ago. This was supposed to be a celebration for all of Gotham. Stephanie was somebody to project onto, Tim was somebody to admire. Staring at the crowds who were pressed against the fence, Stephanie also suspected that maybe it was also just because people were happy for a young pretty couple getting married.

She smiled and waved back, and the people cheered louder.

Cassandra handed Stephanie the bouquet then moved behind her to ensure the dress behaved. Stephanie did have to lift the skirt a little to get up the steps, but once she reached the top, she was met by the Dean, who was dressed to the gills in formal clothing, and Damian, looking adorable in a sharp suit and gelled hair. Stephanie didn’t miss the way his eyes widened at the sight of her.

The Dean stepped forward as Stephanie gave one last wave to the crowds.

“Welcome back.” He said.

“Thank you.” She said sincerely. “Don’t suppose Bruce is here, is he?”

“He is not with you?”

Stephanie sighed. “No.”

“He was out last night.” Damian improvised, “I have tried calling him but there is no answer.”

“Is he okay?” Cassandra asked.

“Probably.” Damian replied, a little unhelpfully.

“He told me, yesterday, that he might be late.”

The Dean nodded. “I can hold off for a little bit more then. Fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.”

He nodded at the door behind her. “Come in a little more so we can shut the doors. When the music starts, you must start your walk down, regardless of whether he is here. I can’t stop the entire Cathedral, not even for him.”

Stephanie nodded, whilst Damian saw Alfred coming in.

“Pennyworth, you have to keep phoning father. This is ridiculous.”

“Damian it’s alright.” Stephanie said soothingly, trying not to let her own worry seep in.

“It’s very much not alright.”

Cassandra sniggered, then continued to fuss. Alfred simply nodded.

“I will keep trying. I will go inform the groom.”

Dick was leaning on a pulpit, looking up at the stained-glass windows. Tim was next to him, but shoved behind, so he could not see Stephanie. Alfred approached the pair, looking a little frazzled.

“Okay?” Dick asked.

“Master Bruce said he would be late, did he?”

“Apparently. Is he not here with you?”

“No, Master Dick.”

“Great.” Dick tutted, leaning over to see Stephanie at the far end of the aisle. “Wowza.”

“Wow what?” Tim tried to look over Dick’s shoulder, but he received a nudge from Dick’s left knee for his effort.

“No peaking. Not until she makes her way down.” Dick continued to stare. “She looks good though.”

“Of course, she does.” Tim snapped. Dick looked back with a raised eyebrow, and Tim corrected his tone. “Of course, she does.”

“Hmm.” Dick looked back up at the rose window. Tim’s eyeline followed his, but Tim could not see anything that would make his brother glare so intently at the stained glass.

Minutes passed, and Bruce did not arrive. Stephanie, who was feeling more and more sick, gripped the flowers tighter.

The woosh of the doors opening and shutting quickly made Stephanie’s veil billow up and out, and when it settled, she very quietly swore to herself at the sight of four people who had snuck into the cathedral.

Kara pressed her hands to her cheeks, Bart waved, and Conner and Cassie stared.

“Wow.” Conner finally broke the silence.

Cassandra hissed like a cat, stepping forward like an overprotective bodyguard. “No! You four can’t be here!”

“Why not?” Kara complained.

Damian had also taken the defensive. “Because you were not invited! Don’t they teach manners in the mud pits you all grew up in?”

“Woah. Harsh little dude.” Conner dismissed Damian with a wave of his hand. “Listen, we just thought it was super rude to get ghosted the way we were, so as Tim’s rightful best man –”

“Well no, that’s me.”

“Shut up, Bart. As Tim’s closest friends, we just thought we had the right –”

She had never much patience for Conner’s posturing, finding his bravado a cover for how insecure he could be at times deeply frustrating. She liked Connor, she really did, when he was being genuine, so in that moment, when her stress levels were starting to peak, she cut in, asking,

“Can you sense Batman nearby?”

It caught Conner off guard, and he stopped and listened. She imagined if he were a dog his ears would be pricked up. “Urrr. No. Kara?”

“No.” She shook her head, making less of a show about it. “Why? Is he supposed to be?”

Cassandra sighed and grabbed Conner and Cassie’s hands, intending to drag them to a corner of one of the wings. “I will find them a seat. You want in on this? Sit quiet and behave.”

Taken aback, Conner began to argue. Cassie on the other hand, went along willingly, but turned to look at Stephanie.

“Good luck!” She chirped. “You look beautiful Stephanie.”

“Thanks.” Steph choked out. Kara noticed her friend’s growing distress and moved in close.

“We’ll keep quiet. Don’t worry. Think of us as an extra two bodyguards each for you and Tim. We won’t let anything happen to either of you.”

Hearing those words and seeing Bart’s emphatic nodding quietened Stephanie’s frantic heart. She realised that the idea of Bruce not catching the bad guy in time would lead to Tim being injured (or worst of all dying) was making her panic. She tried to make herself trust Bruce. And she tried to make herself trust the Titans. No way would Conner, Cassie or Bart let anything happen to Tim, and Kara would look out for her as much as Dick, Cassandra and Damian would.

Kara smiled as slowly Stephanie relaxed. When Cassandra returned for her and Bart, Kara gave Stephanie a hug, then tugged on Damian’s earlobe, who protested loudly at the physical contact. Bart waved goodbye, and then they were gone. Stephanie wondered if Tim had seen them, but as far as she could see through the fine mesh of the veil, Tim was hiding behind Dick far in the distance.

Cassandra returned once more, and the music started.

“No.” Stephanie whispered.

“You can walk alone. Damian and I are right behind you.”

“No.” Stephanie desperately wanted Bruce next to her, but for all she knew he was in trouble. He wouldn’t just flake on them. Well, Bruce Wayne might have. Batman? No way.

But she didn’t really have any other choice but to start walking.

She took one last unsteady breath, raised her chin, then began to walk down the aisle, Cassandra and Damian behind her.

She saw Tim jump out from behind Dick and take his place halfway down the aisle, where initially Bruce was supposed to hand her over, and she saw how handsome he looked, and she saw how happy he was. She smiled back, incredibly embarrassed, but also – strangely only to herself – very happy.

She didn’t pay attention to her college and high school friends sat with their phones out recording her, she didn’t look at the countless other rich folk she had been forced to make pleasantries with, she didn’t look at Mrs van Rijks endlessly judgemental eye, and she didn’t look at Rebecca Andrews once.

Babs and her dad would be somewhere in the pews, but Leslie was not, as far as she knew. Something had come up very last minute, as was a Doctor’s life, and she could no longer attend.

When she reached Tim, she curtsied a little so he could throw her veil back over her head. He was grinning so widely and did not seem one bit bashful about it.

“You seem happy.” She whispered, taking his arm as they finished the rest of the trek together.

“God knows why.”

She laughed, and they stopped in front of the Dean, who had a very serious expression on.

Stephanie felt Cassandra do last minute fixes, ensuring not a fold or curl was ill placed, took Stephanie’s bouquet from her, then went to sit down. Damian placed the rings on the Dean’s paper on the stand, then went to sit next to his sister. There was a very conspicuous gap between Damian and Alfred, but neither of them tried to think too hard about it. Dick seemed distracted, still looking up at the rose window, though no matter what angle Tim looked at it, he couldn’t see what his brother saw. It had finally started to rain. Some of the saints from the large stained-glass windows looked like they were sobbing as the water dripped down.

The music ended, and the Dean began the service in a booming tone that made Stephanie jump a little. She grabbed Tim’s hand tight and tried to focus on the service. She heard her mother sniff, and when she turned around, she saw Crystal looking very torn up. Stephanie smiled at her mother, trying to be encouraging, and Crystal mouthed back the word beautiful.

“…brings husband and wife together in the delight and tenderness of sexual union…” Stephanie whirled her head back around and tried very hard not to blush. Tim on the other hand, had turned as red as a tomato. “…in which each member of the family, in good times and in bad, may find strength, companionship and comfort, and grow to maturity in love.”

Tim squeezed her fingers, and the embarrassment faded. The Dean continued the opening monologue, and the pair pretended not to take anything too much to heart, Stephanie especially at the little bit about marriage being something “no-one should enter into it lightly or selfishly, but reverently and responsibly”.

Yes. Stephanie thought. Much responsible.

The Dean took a breath, then looked up at the congregation. “I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, to declare it now.” Stephanie and Tim waited for someone to stand up, to yell or jeer, for a gun shot to ring out, but nothing happened, and the moment of silence passed. Shakily, Tim exhaled. The Dean looked to the pair, and over his glasses, asked, “The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of God, therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.”

Tim saw out the corner of his eye Stephanie shake her head, and his smile returned. The Dean nodded at the two, and then begun the declarations.

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, will you take Stephanie Brown to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

“I will.”

There was no pause in his reply, and he did not look away from her as he said it. It echoed from the acoustics of the cathedral, and distantly, Stephanie heard applauding from the outside. People had stuck around, despite the worsening weather, to cheer them on.

“Stephanie Brown, will you take Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

Her voice was quieter, and much more emotional, but no less lacking in conviction, when she replied with, “I will.”

More cheers came from outside, and Stephanie looked down, at her hidden feet.

“Take her right hand now.”

Tim did as he was told. They were already angled towards each other, but they shifted a little more, ensuring that the rest of the family and congregation faded from sight and mind. The Dean adjusted his glasses and peered at his notes. “Repeat after me then. I, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, take thee, Stephanie Brown…”

Tim steeled himself and began to repeat after the Dean.

“I, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, take thee, Stephanie Brown… to be my wife… to have and to hold… from this day forward… for better for worse… for richer for poorer… in sickness and in health… to love and to cherish… till death us do part...”

Stephanie did not look away from him as he made the vow, and he was forever grateful she did not. She was smiling in that beautiful way of hers, where her cheeks grew pink, her eyes were half shut in their arc, and if she were any happier she was going to start laughing, and with her laughter came the snorting. Not the most dignified, but it was more contagious than Joker Venom.

Or at least Tim thought that.

Stephanie took his right hand, then repeated the same vow back to Tim. When he was finally passed her wedding band, he watched her eyes bulge a little at how sparkly hers was, but she didn’t look too displeased as he slid it on, making the final vow of the session,

“…With my body I honour you, all that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you.”

Stephanie had nice hands, like Tim. Long fingers that were well suited to playing the piano she rarely touched anymore. As a matter of fact, had she even looked at the piano in the apartment since she’d moved in?

She did have knuckles that would cause her arthritic issues in forty years’ time, as various injuries had left her with swollen knuckles. However, the worst it meant in that moment was the slight awkward pause as he fought to get the ring past her middle joint. She laughed, a bright giggle, as he screwed up his nose in concentration. He was trying very hard not to hurt her, and she stepped closer, as if it would make it easier for him.

It slid on, after a little bit of elbow grease, and sat comfortably around her left ring finger.

She repeated the same vow, then slid his own ring on.

There. Done.

Married?

Again, the pair waited for some commotion to happen. For Bruce to burst through the doors saying, So sorry I missed the start where are we at? For a bad guy to come crashing down, Batman high above, to bring the ceremony to an abrupt close.

But nothing of the sort happened, and the ceremony continued.

Tim realised that they were nearly at the end of the service. They were probably legally man and wife by this point… At what point were a couple legally married? Was it only valid until after they signed the register? Tim suddenly gawked at the fact he had overlooked this important factor.

It was soon forgotten though, when Stephanie leaned forward for a kiss, which he gave, mind going blank as it tended to do when kissing her. He forgot that his parents probably weren’t watching from on high, he forgot that Bruce was missing in action, he forgot Dick and Cassandra’s teasing smirks, Alfred’s English poker face, and Crystal and Damian’s reluctant happiness. He didn’t hear the church bells start to ring, the applause of the congregation, nor the final proclamation of the Dean.

He forgot about Rebecca Andrews pursed lips and expectant face.

Stephanie broke away first, and Tim slowly, reluctantly, took a step back. That was it right? They were married? Stephanie was his wife? For real?

It seemed Stephanie had a similar realization, and she looked to Tim. To his sinking stomach, it looked like she did not enjoy the thought.

Tim suddenly felt like he was going to burst into tears.

The Dean took their hands and joined them together. His voice giving one last boom, he announced,

“Those whom God has joined together let no man put asunder.”

A gun shot sounded, and Stephanie, acting on pure instinct, grabbed Tim and tugged him down on top of her. She didn’t know where the shot landed, but wherever it was, it hadn’t hit anybody. There was commotion, as people slowly realized what had just happened.

Abruptly, Dick’s eyes flittered upwards, and very sharply, very loudly, he exclaimed, “Shit.”

The rose window shattered, and two figures came crashing through. One of them was Batman, and he very gracefully landed on the font, balanced perfectly.

Glass rained down, Tim instinctively pressing down on Steph to protect her face from any shards.

Batman stood up, cape falling over the font, looking positively demonic in the Cathedral.

God, he really had wanted a spectacle, hadn’t he?

The other figure was a man all in black and he hit the floor hard. It took a moment, but everyone soon registered the number of guns he had attached to his person. He grunted, the shock of the impact too much for a moment, then he went limp, unconscious.

Instantly there was chaos, and the congregation erupted in shrieks and yells and shouts. People got to their feet and tried to flee. It took a moment, but Stephanie was still on the floor, Tim pressed on top of her, and she craned her neck, looking for Rebecca. There was another woosh of air, and suddenly her and Tim were surrounded by their family and the Titans. Dick moved away, towards the shooter, as Batman apprehended the man. Commissioner Gordon, quick to shift from happy family friend to police commissioner, also quickly joined the pair.

“We need the designer!” Batman emphasized to them.

“You both okay?” Conner asked, tugging Tim upwards. Tim looked a little winded, but was otherwise absolutely fine. Connor was having to yell over the commotion, and Stephanie, still on the floor, caught sight of Rebecca.

She was trying to leave the cathedral.

“No!” She cried out, jumping up.

“Steph!” Steph vaguely recognized the voice as Babs, but she was already gone, up and into the crowd.

She couldn’t run, even with the crowds that refused to part ways for her, as her dress was just too heavy and long to run effectively in, but that did not stop her from trying.

She apologized the entire time, shoving her way past people and allowing her train to be ripped to shreds as people stood on it. Rebecca had noticed her chasing after her, and had begun to try to escape faster.

Stephanie was the more experienced runner, so as soon as Rebecca managed to leave the Cathedral, Stephanie was immediately on her, throwing her down the stone steps and holding her tight. The rain was coming down as hard as ever, soiling her dress with the grime of Gotham. Her veil had come off when she ran, leaving her back prickling at the cold raindrops hitting her bare skin. The people who had so kindly been waiting for her and Tim to emerge for cheering were utterly baffled at the sight of the bride seemingly throwing a woman down the stairs.

The rain was so heavy that Stephanie felt herself becoming blind, knowing her makeup must have been running something terrible.

She became completely overwrought with emotion, and yelled out,

“Why were you killing all those brides and their husbands? Why did you kill Bishop Sherborne?”

She was screaming as if Rebecca had personally taken each shot, which was untrue, but Stephanie was surprised at how much the truth hurt. She’d still, in her gut, hoped this woman was innocent. Stephanie still didn’t even fully understand what involvement Rebecca had, but she was acting as if Rebecca had personally shot Tim.

People were pouring out of the Cathedral now, including Bart and Kara, who had managed with little trouble pushing to the front. They saw there was nothing to be done, and only watched.

Rebecca was in tears, shaking her head. “It isn’t me! It’s him! I swear, I’m a victim as much as you are! I didn’t have a choice! My career…”

Something about being called a victim set Stephanie off and she began to yell, “No! I’m sorry that you’ve been hurt, but seven people are dead! You had a choice!”

Commissioner Gordon came outside, ready to arrest Rebecca. Stephanie stood up and backed away, emotions running too high for her to think clearly, and turned to Bart and Kara. The rest of the family soon followed. Tim was soon enough pushing to the front and she instantly was in his arms. It was a ridiculous spectacle, they both knew, but they had done their job. Crystal quickly found her daughter, white faced and more than a little frantic, and needed more attending to then the couple who were shot at.

They would have to stay behind, offer an excuse of how they knew Rebecca was suspected of being complicit in murder (Batman had contacted Bruce after the engagement announcement, convenient as the man funded him after all, who had then asked if Tim and Steph were willing for their engagement to be put at risk the way it was, to which they had said yes, wanting to help). They were also informed of where Bruce was – officially (crashed his car on the way over and had gone straight to Leslie’s. Thank goodness it was nothing serious. Dick had gotten a look in his eye showing that he was already thinking of how to wreck another one of Bruce’s old cars) and they were told that, despite not getting to sign the register, the two were still – for all intents and purposes according the Church – married. Signing the register was just the civil, legal notice confirming it so.

Tim had seen the sick look on Stephanie’s face, and had gone with the “can we get back to you once we’ve calmed down” excuse.

The Dean, quite ready to be rid of the Wayne’s for another thirty years, agreed.

Left standing in the rain, knowing that this was going to be an absolute disaster come the following morning, and surrounded by frightened and confused wedding attendees, Tim went to bury himself in a hug with Stephanie. She granted it immediately and held on tight, her makeup completely ruining his perfect black suit.

“I’m not leaving.” She whispered, for his ears alone, and Tim’s heartbeat grew steady once more.

[justjessame]

Put Me In Coach Chapter 24

I’d like to tell everyone that after Negan gave my my engagement ring our lives continued on the normal, sex-crazed, love fueled route we’d been on since the first time we touched.  I can’t do that and stay honest though.  

We had a good six months after he slipped my second ring on.  Six months of my mom’s ideas for our wedding.  Six months of making it difficult for our neighbors to make eye contact after a LONG weekend at home.  Six months of Eric and Steven (both had transferred to the college I was finishing at) hanging out, but not wearing out their welcome.  Six months of LONG phone conversations with Mary about her life on the west coast and how she couldn’t wait to celebrate our graduations over the coming summer.  We had six months, and I guess, looking back I should feel pretty fucking lucky that we had that.

I’d always thought we were absurdly lucky.  Hadn’t I wondered a thousand times when it would wear off, this magical pull we had for one another.  The way our eyes could meet during dinner with anyone, and both of us would find an excuse to leave the room together, or the meal entirely and then be naked and pounding together in no time flat, wasn’t sustainable.  Was it?

The first blow to our reality came right before Christmas.  Having a pair of police officers show up at your front door never signifies good news.  Having it happen with twinkle lights glowing behind them doesn’t make it easier to take the grim news they were delivering.

Mom had mentioned, offhandedly, that there had been a few break ins in the neighborhood during one of our phone calls.  She’d made it seem a nuisance rather than a fear.  She should have been afraid.  Her and Dad had been killed when they walked in on a burglar.  It had been quick, the policemen assured me, as though that made it better somehow.  

Negan wasn’t home when I found out.  He’d insisted, once we were officially engaged, that he work his second job during the school year as well as during summer.  Mom had told me he was too proud to live off of my trust fund, and with our future coming on fast he wanted to prove that we didn’t need to use it.  So he was working at the car lot, as the two uniformed officers stood on my front porch and told me that my parents were dead.  Gone forever.

The officers asked if there was someone they could call, I must have looked like I was going into shock, because I no doubt was.  I handed them my cell phone, told them to call Negan AND Eric.  Mary was coming home in a few days, but telling her now would just rush her home and I had no fucking clue what would come next.

What came next was Eric and Steven rushing to me from their apartment nearby.  Negan screeching into our driveway moments later.  And then they all tried to keep me from falling into a million pieces.

The funeral overshadowed the holidays.  While I was tempted to completely ignore Christmas and New Years’ I knew that I couldn’t.  Mom, and Dad too, wouldn’t have wanted us to stop moving forward.  That was the point of life, the living get to live it.  

It was a somber couple of months, and later, after everything went to shit fast and furious, I had to wonder if that was the catalyst or if I’d lost him long before then.

Since Negan was working a second job, I took the offer to be a TA when it was given. I won’t lie and say the sexual pull wasn’t there between us any more, it was still there.  We could still make the neighbors blush, but we weren’t as available to one another.  He had school, the teams he helped coach, and then his sales position at the dealership.  I had school, my TA position, and Eric to keep me company.  I should have seen it.  Hindsight, I suppose.

For the next few months, working my ass off to keep up my grades and earn my degree, my focus shifted from being upset that Negan and I didn’t have the time to rip one another’s clothes off as often as we once had.  I had taken my last final the night before my world truly started spinning out of control.  I felt Negan rolling out of bed, the sun shining through our curtains, and then the water turned on in our shower.  

Once upon a time, I would have joined him.  And I was actually thinking about it, but then his phone dinged on the nightstand.   I thought it might be work, they’d texted him before from the dealership when one of his customers needed to contact him, so I rolled over and smiled as the warmth of his side and the scent of him invaded my senses.  It was short lived.  And my plan to join him in the shower left with that contentment.  

Opening up his messenger, I saw a photo that turned my stomach and made me want to scream, cry, hit something, and then die, in that order.  It was Negan, MY Negan, lying on a bed with a naked redhead cuddled against him.  He was naked too, or I assumed he was since his chest was bare and his hands were curled around her waist, pressing their faces together.  Her lipstick, a vivid shade of red, was smeared and his mouth was stained with it.  There was only one word that accompanied it.  “SOON”.

I don’t know how I managed to not do any of the things my body longed to.  I don’t know how I fucking held back when he kissed me goodbye.  I don’t know why I didn’t confront him.  Why I didn’t fucking scream, and hold him accountable is still a mystery to me.

Maybe it was because of the whispers.  Hadn’t I wondered if I’d been his first student lover?  Hadn’t I heard the age old adage that “once a cheat, always a cheat”?  And hadn’t I constantly wondered just how long we had before our bubble burst?  

Five years, give or take.  That’s how long.  Five years of Negan and Amara in that wonderful love and lust filled bubble.  And now our time has run out.  

Negan called me from work later that day.  He said he’d been called by Lucille’s doctor.  She was dying, he told me, and she had asked for him.  I can admit I doubted him.  Wouldn’t any sane woman who saw the picture I’d seen have doubts?  

He asked me to pack him a bag that he’d run by to grab.  I hadn’t called anyone to tell them what I’d seen.  I was all alone in our house, a house we’d refurnished and redecorated together.  A house I thought we’d made a home.  I had a flash of vengefulness that made me want to cut holes into anything I packed for him, but I fought it.  If Negan was leaving, be it for a trip or forever, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d torn out my fucking heart and stomped on it.  I packed carefully for him.  T-shirts, jeans, underwear like I would have packed for any other trip he could have asked me to do.  

He seemed to know that there was something off with me.  Negan hugged me to him, pressing my face into his chest and telling me that he’d be back before I could miss him.  He kissed me in the same hungry and breathless way that seemed to be OUR way, but I had to wonder if he kissed HER like that too.  If he made her sound like Marilyn, or if she called him “sir” or “daddy”?

I felt the hysteria creeping in again, and felt almost relieved when he finally let me go and left.  

Watching him pull away from our house, to head back to where we’d met, I finally let go.  I screamed so loud I was surprised the neighbors didn’t call the police.  They did, however, call Eric.

“That dumb, rancid asshole-” Eric was whispering into my hair as he held me and I sobbed.  “How fucking dare he-”

Steven was behind me patting my back and whispering comfort while Eric was raging harder than me.  You’d almost think Negan cheated on him.  “Not helping,” his boyfriend snapped at my best friend.  “Mara, honey, maybe it’s not what you think-”

I snorted, and pulled back from Eric to shoot Steven a look of pure indignation.  “They were naked, Steven.  Naked and wrapped around one another, and FUCK I’m gonna be-”

I jumped up and rushed to the closest bathroom.  I made it, but only just, and then I emptied my stomach of everything I’d ever considered eating.  Retching and gagging, even empty I still felt like I had more to give.  Eric was waiting for me, once I’d flushed and then brushed my teeth and gargled.  

“Better?”  His concern was palpable, but it didn’t help.  Nothing would help.  

What’s worse than finding out the love of your life is a cheating dickhead?  The dead reanimating.  Trust me, seeing a corpse walking down the street and then biting people, that shit can out weigh even the worse fucking heartbreak.  

Luckily Mary had made it to our side just in time for us all to evacuate together.  Mary, Steven, Eric, and me off on a grand adventure.  I almost didn’t have a spare moment to think about Negan’s infidelity.  Almost.  And I’d like to say that when I packed for our mad dash to safety that I left all reminders of him behind.  I didn’t.  Eric’s framed gift along with a photo album that held pictures of my entire family came with me.  My rings, my jewelry (yes, even the spring formal set that he’d surprised me with), and while I didn’t pack the feminine dresses that everyone knew me for, I did pack the knee high boots.  

My phone never rang, not before the towers became inoperable.  No texts came.  Nothing to make me think that I was wrong about Negan having left me.  And I had to believe that he left me and was with HER safe and sound, because even with him destroying me, I couldn’t survive in a world where he was dead.  That would be a cruelty too far.

“I think I see something up ahead,” Steven said, he was driving the SUV that we’d chosen to take, having seen the horrible traffic we assumed having four wheel drive might be handy if we needed to go off road.  

I looked up from where I’d been daydreaming out the window and I knew immediately that he was right.  “Alexandria?” 

[sleepy--cal]

hitched pt.1 | ashton

word count | 7.6k  →  fake dating, tinder, romcom au

synopsis | Ashton lies about having a plus-one for Michael’s wedding, sending his friends into an excited frenzy, and him? Scrambling to make those lies come true.

a/n | i’ve never written anything for the 5sos community before so here is my hello :3 Warning: excessive swearing bc the author has a potty mouth

★

When Ashton thought about it way back when, he really thought he’d be the first to settle down. To tie the knot. To get hitched.

But the first 5SOS wedding is coming up in August and it’s not his. It’s Michael’s - as in feet-on-the-table, milk-mustache-wearing, fortnite-until-dawn-playin’, doesn’t-wake-up-until-2pm, stray-cat-lookin’ ass Michael.

Luke has his plus-one. Sierra. Even Calum’s weekends have been spent chasing after this girl that Ashton has yet to be introduced to. Yet here he himself is at 2 months shy of 25 years of age, and he’s so fucking single he’s pretty sure he and Virgin Mary could be featured side-by-side on an expert level of a spot-the-difference game.

In fact, the last time a female even stepped foot into his mancave of an apartment was before he’d broken it off with his ex-girlfriend over a year ago. And when his ex had moved out, she’d brought all of her stuff with her and when Ashton says ‘all of her stuff’, he means all of her stuff. There’s no longer a toaster oven in his kitchen, only a microwave that he uses to heat up pizza pockets and poptarts. There are no bowls to eat from because he eats his food straight off his only pot like an 18th century caveman. There’s a lacy bra hanging off the doorknob to his bathroom but even that was a gag gift from Calum for Christmas two years ago. It’s fucking sad.

So Ashton doesn’t think it’s his fault, okay, when his phone pings and he comes face to face with the link to RSVP to Michael and Crystal’s destination wedding and the first question that comes up is “Do you have a plus one?”

Ashton scoffs.

He doesn’t know what it is - either the internalized compulsive need to one-up his friends or you know, casual demonic possession but he physically cannot control his goddamn thumb as he checkmarks the little “yes!” next to the question from hell. The panic doesn’t settle in for a little bit, even when he’s staring blankly at the ‘thank you for your response!’ message that pops up after he submits the form.

It’s only when he picks up the phone to an ecstatic Michael less than a full minute since he indicated he wanted steak instead of fish for the wedding dinner that he well and truly has his ‘oh shit’ moment.

And of course, when one person in the band knows something, everyone fucking knows. Which is how he finds himself stuck in a 4-way facetime call with every single 5SOS member and their dogs.

He can see all of Luke’s pores from how close his face is to the screen.

Everyone speaks all at once.

“Ash you’re what?!”

“Mate, why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

“I seriously had to find out from you RSVP-ing to my fucking wedding?!”

Ashton winces as he pulls his phone further from his face. “Guys it’s not that big of a deal.”

Michael scoffs at the same time Calum screams. “Not that big of a deal?! Dude!”

“What’s her name?” Luke demands like he’s asking for tonight’s weather forecast and not the name of Ashton’s fake fucking girlfriend.

“Chernobyl,” Ashton says. What the fuck.

“Chernobyl?” Luke repeats, his nose scrunching up in deep thought.

“Isn’t that the name of the nuclear power plant that-”

“It was a joke!” Ashton snaps, cutting Michael off. “I was kidding. It’s an inside joke between us.” He bullshits. “Um-”

“Aw, you two have inside jokes already!” Luke coos instead. Calum falls for it immediately, cooing alongside Luke and if Ashton’s ego wasn’t so big, he would’ve hung up the call already.

“So what is her name then?” Michael probes curiously. Ashton wants to kill Michael.

“Uh,” Ashton says intellectually. Favourite cartoon character. His grandmother’s name. The name of his childhood stuffie. The street he used to live on?? Ah, his neighbour’s cat! “April! I- yeah, it’s April.”

“Aww! Ashton!” Calum says dreamily like he’s Ashton’s mom finding out about his girlfriend and not his punk rock band member.

“She’s twenty-two,” Ashton’s fat mouth adds unnecessarily, because apparently, Ashton Fletcher Irwin is a closeted masochist and likes his grave deeper than most.

★

When management had approved of the band’s 6-month hiatus in preparation for Mikey’s wedding, Ashton never imagined he’d be spending it alone on his living room floor downloading Tinder.

But as he watches the progress bar slowly fill with green, it dawns on him that this is probably the worst decision he’s ever made in his entire life and that he should probably get psychologically evaluated for compulsive lying.

He isn’t even sure if Tinder is the right app for this, because he’s not looking for a hookup. He’s looking for a very specific 22-year old April who happens to live in Los Angeles, is open to sharing a fake inside joke with him about the tragic 1986 Chernobyl disaster, and won’t think he’s a serial killer when he asks on the first date if they want to accompany him on an 11-hour flight to Bora Bora as his plus one for his best friend’s destination wedding.

Ashton groans, falling backwards onto the carpeted floor. “Fuuuuuuck.”

The only thing that answers him is the mocking ping from his phone telling him the download is complete.

The carpet is rough under his cheek as he turns to grab at his phone, the ‘Let’s get started!’ page of the app staring innocently back at him.

It’s afternoons like these that makes Ashton wish he wasn’t such an insufferable idiot.

In no time at all, Ashton has his profile set up - his name (just Fletcher), age (24), and a couple of long-distance unrecognizable shots of himself because there’s no way in hell the tabloids are about to catch him on Tinder.

He spends the next 30 seconds swiping right furiously on every single girl that pops up because Michael’s wedding is in four months and the fitting for the groomsmen suits are tomorrow and he seriously has no time to be picky right now. He literally needs his 22-year old April yesterday.

He’s about to max out on his swiping limit for the day when a loud knock on his door startles him out of his thoughts. From his spot on the floor, he peers around the corner at the front door and when the lock doesn’t jiggle after another ten seconds, he groans and gets up to see which one of his not-bandmates have decided to show up unannounced.

When the door swings open, Lauren is staring at him from the other side with a giant luggage behind her and a raised eyebrow.

“Lauren!” He greets enthusiastically without missing a beat.

She rolls her eyes at him anyway and pushes her way past him and into the apartment. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“I did not. I even have a poptart in the microwave for you.” He insists as the front door swings shut with a bang.

Yeah... he should really get tested for compulsive lying.

“Here, let me grab that for you,” Ashton says, hauling the gigantic suitcase Lauren had brought with her, ignoring her sarcastic as you should! as he goes off to dump it somewhere in his room. While there, he shoves his dirty clothes underneath the bed and smooths out the bed sheets so Ashton can at least pretend that he’s somewhat gotten his act together since Lauren had last visited.

When he reemerges, Lauren is relaxing on the couch with a poptart in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Lauren!” He roars as he does a running dive over the back of the couch. Lauren shrieks as she drops the poptart and stumbles to the floor, carrying the weight of her brother on her back as she tries to keep the phone out of his reach. “What did I tell you about touching my things?!”

“I see Tinder, Ash!” She screams back, knocking the cushions off the couch as she shoves a sharp elbow into his cheek. “I have to tell mom!”

“Like hell you will!” He shouts as he makes a grab for the wrist holding his phone hostage. “Give me my phone back!”

“Screw off!”

“I made you a poptart!”

“So?!” Lauren retorts. “I-”

They both freeze at the sound of a loud ping. Ashton can only watch helplessly as Lauren’s eyes dart to the phone in her hands, her expression going from angry cat to sparkly eyed in two seconds flat. “You have a match!” She squeals.

“What?”

Ashton takes advantage of the distraction to snatch his phone back. Immediately, Lauren is peering over his shoulder as he swipes on the notification, watching as the words ‘It’s a Match!’ displays itself on the screen.

Underneath the words are two circular pictures - one is of the blurry ass photo of himself that he’d chosen and the other is a photo of a pretty brunette beaming shyly at the camera from behind a teacup.

‘You and Luna have liked each other!’ Tinder informs him.

Lauren shrieking into his ear is probably the single loudest thing he’s ever heard in his life, and as the drummer of a band, that’s saying something.

“She’s pretty!” Lauren squeals. Two seconds later, she mellows down as she clears her throat and punches him hard in the shoulder. “I guess you have pretty good taste. Proud of ya, Ash.” She grins.

Ashton doesn’t know how to tell her about his blind and desperate swiping spree that he went on seconds before she showed up at his doorstep, or about why he’s even on Tinder in the first place so he doesn’t and just lets CompulsiveLiar!Ashton strike again. “Thanks Laurie. Her bio’s what really got me.” He says.

He has no freaking idea what Luna’s bio says.

“Let me stalk!” Lauren exclaims and snatches his phone back before he can say anything and because Ashton can’t help but admit he’s a little curious too, the pair of them huddle on the couch together, looking at Ashton’s phone like it holds the answers to the future, which, for Ashton, it seriously might, just not in the way his sister might be thinking.

“Luna, twenty-two years old,” Lauren reads aloud. Ashton’s eyebrows shoot up at her perfect age. She scrolls further down. “Hey, she went to UCLA! I wonder if I’ve passed her on campus before.”

“Majored in developmental psychology,” Ashton reads next. “Holy shit.”

Lauren glances at him suspiciously. “I thought you’ve read all of this before.”

“I have!” Ashton says defensively. “I’m just doing a dramatic reading for your sake.”

“God, please don’t.”

They spend the next half hour combing through every bit of Luna’s bio, from the three photos she has of herself and one of her dalmatian to her biography that simply reads ‘wine and pizza and I’m all yours! Protip: +25 bonus points if you have a dog. +75 bonus points if I get to meet ‘em.’

“Borrow Luke’s dog! You have to!” Lauren begs.

“I can’t borrow Petunia!”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t! Luke might ask questions.”

Lauren squints at him. “Are you embarrassed that you’re pimping yourself out on Tinder?”

Ashton snorts and crosses his arms. “First of all, I’m not pimping myself out. Second of all, no.”

“Just tell him it’s for me then,” Lauren urges, nudging his shoulder. “Tell him I’m trying to impress my Tinder date with a cute puppy and that I’d feel safer going if Petunia was with me.”

Ashton thinks about it for a moment. Luke does have a soft spot for Lauren after all, considering the fact that Luke had always wanted a younger sibling but ended up being the baby himself in both his own family and the band, which, in Ashton’s opinion, fucking hilarious but Lauren did have a point. There’s no way Luke would say no to Lauren and her safety on a random ass Tinder date in the middle of downtown Los Angeles.

Plus, he really needs this whole Tinder shit to work out. For Mikey’s wedding. And if he gets +100 bonus points for showing off a dog that isn’t even his? Sign him the hell up.

“Okay, well, I can see your thinking face.” Lauren says nonchalantly. “So while you text Luke about Petunia, I did you the favour of sending your first message to Luna.”

Ashton chokes on his spit. “You what?!”

The sound that Lauren makes when Ashton throws himself on top of her to grab his phone back is inhuman. But the sound that Ashton makes when he sees the message is worse.

I’m told I remind people of a puppy. If you get to meet both me and my dog over pizza and wine, do I get double the bonus points? 🐶

★

His neighbour’s goddamn cat is staring at him when he wakes up to drink coffee on the balcony the next morning.

“April,” Ashton greets slowly as a warning. Previous first-hand experience has told him that the stupid orange cat did not give two shits about piping hot coffee and would lunge at him for the cup if Ashton so much as blows the steam in her general direction.

As a safety precaution, he moves a little farther away because he’s not sure if his sore neck can take a hit from the crazy cat if she lunges, especially since he was forced to fit his 6 foot long body on his two-seater couch last night, Lauren having taken over his bedroom for her beauty sleep as soon as it hit 10 o’clock.

That, and, uh, the fact that Luna had messaged him back less than five minutes after Lauren had ditched his ass in the living room and left him to his own devices. How was he supposed to continue a conversation he didn’t even start?

And seriously? If anyone in the band was the most puppy, it was Calum. What’s he supposed to do? Bring Calum too and get triple the bonus points?

Thankfully, Luna seemed to think Lauren’s bullshit was cute, replying with a “oh, definitely! 😂 guess I’ll have to double the amount of puppy treats on me”, teasingly followed a minute later by a “what breed of doggos will Oreo and I have the honour of meeting?”

And that was precisely what had kept Ashton up all night.

If you look at Ashton’s most recent search history, you’d find the following: Most popular breed of dog Most popular dog breed in Bora Bora Best looking dog breeds Most popular breed of dog for girls Golden retrievers German shepherds Golden retrievers vs German shepherds

Ashton sighs as he sips on his coffee. In the end, he’d narrowed himself down to either a golden retriever or a german shepherd, not because he thought he resembled either of those two breeds at all but more the fact that both seemed to be the most popular dogs with the ladies (in general, not in Bora Bora because that one yielded zero search results when he tried). But before he could decide which one, he’d finally passed out on the couch last night close to 4am in the morning.

A loud meow comes from his right.

“What?” Ashton asks grumpily as he looks over at April. She’s staring back at him with a stinky look on her face.

Then, he gets an idea.

“Hey April,” He calls out. “Meow once for golden retriever and twice for german shepherd.”

The bitch meows three times.

★

Lauren is laughing so hard, she has to bang her fist on the kitchen table multiple times to control herself. “Golden retriever german shepherd mix?!”

“Stop laughing!” Ashton hisses. “Eat your pancakes!”

“You mean the pancakes that I made?”

Ashton pauses. “Drink your coffee!”

Lauren’s still laughing. “I can’t believe you said a mix! Now she definitely knows you spent all night thinking about it.”

You left me out to die last night!” Ashton accuses, pointing a finger at her. “What was I supposed to do?”

“You replied this morning anyway! You could’ve waited for me to wake up.”

Ashton’s mouth opens and closes a couple times but nothing comes out. So he changes the subject because he’s mature like that. “I have to get ready for the fitting.”

Lauren snickers. “Sure.”

Calum and Luke swings his front door open right as Ashton emerges from his bedroom shamelessly in a 5sos tour hoodie and black jeans. They both give him a once-over, both looking confused.

“I thought we were going to get fitted for suits?” Luke says, eyebrows scrunched together. “Or is there a band gig tonight that I don’t know about?”

“A band gig,” Calum replies seriously. “At the wedding boutique. I thought you knew! If we perform for the boutique staff, Mikey gets a 30% discount.”

“Budgetsos,” Ashton butts in.

They finally notice Lauren when she snorts from the kitchen counter.

“Laurie!” Luke beams as the both of them go over to bear hug her and inspect what she’s eating. They don’t question why she’s eating pancakes out of a pot. Lauren offers some of her food and Calum takes it immediately, chomping over her fork for the bite. Luke takes her coffee instead.

“So you arrived here last night and you didn’t even ask us to come hang out? I thought we were friends,” Calum pouts, helping Lauren clean out her plate even though she didn’t ask. He looks like a puppy begging for scraps. “And I’m like 300% sure we make better company than Ash.”

“Hey!”

Before Ashton can say anything else, Lauren is looking over at him mischievously. “Sorry,” She snickers. “I couldn’t. Ashton and I were too busy last night setting up a daaaaaate for him.” She drags out.

Ashton chokes on his coffee. Holy fucking shit.

Luke turns to her immediately with a gleam in his eyes. “So you’ve met April?!”

“Yes!” Ashton interrupts loudly between coughs, voice raspy from the coffee in his goddamn airway. He ignores Lauren’s face that goes from evil to confused in two seconds flat. “Lauren’s met April! They both, uh, seriously love dogs and that’s all they could talk about I couldn’t get them to shut up, like at all.”

“No fucking way! Is she here?!” Calum asks, eyes wide and head whipping around in both directions so fast his curly hair looks like it’s taking flight. “Where?! Is she in your room? I want to meet her!” He asks, already sprinting into Ashton’s bedroom before he’s even finished his sentence.

“She’s not there!” Ashton hisses, running after him. “She left this morning! She had, like, you know... work! It’s a Tuesday.”

Calum visibly deflates and Ashton almost feels bad for a minute before he remembers that he can’t introduce Calum to anyone anyway, because he doesn’t actually have anyone.

Luke bounds over next, immediately taking notice of the odd state of his room - Lauren’s open suitcase at the foot of his bed, a fuzzy purple towel thrown over his bathroom door. Luke picks up a random bottle of face cream out of the many that are lying on his bed covers. “This looks like Lauren’s stuff. Didn’t your girl stay over last night?”

“Uh,” Ashton stutters, pulling an excuse out of his ass. “Yeah, they ended up having like… a girls night?”

Calum snickers. “So you got banished to the sofa?”

“Chicks before dicks!” Lauren shouts from somewhere in the kitchen.

Luke pats Ashton on the shoulder sympathetically but Ashton doesn’t feel any less shitty. There’s absolutely no way Lauren doesn’t know he’s lying now. He sighs. “Come on, guys, I have to change into better clothes. Can’t let you guys one-up me.”

“We’ll wait for you outside!” Luke waves as Calum shuts the bedroom door behind him.

When Ashton reemerges from his bedroom in a button-up and slacks this time, Luke and Calum are listening intently at whatever’s coming out of Lauren’s mouth. Ashton manages to catch the tail end of what she’s saying, something to do with hawaiian pizza and rosé wine.

“Yeah, they’re totally in love,” Lauren smiles. Luke’s smile is even wider than Lauren’s. Calum looks like he’s ready to take notes. “Kind of weird to watch my brother act all lovey-dovey in front of me, but I guess it’s kind of sweet. I can really tell she’s the one, you know?”

On their way out, Lauren pulls Ashton aside with a smile that’s way too wide and whispers, “You owe me an explanation when you get back and also your life.”

★

They make it to Rosie’s Bridal Boutique after 45 minutes stuck in traffic. It’s located in a cute little yellow brick building in the middle of the suburbs surrounded by more greenery than Ashton’s ever seen in his life. On the way there, he manages to evade Luke and Calum’s curiosity by blasting All Time Low at a ridiculous volume with the windows rolled down, letting the violent wind and the voice of Alex Gaskarth constantly try and outdo each other.

Unfortunately, Ashton knows he can’t evade shit for long as they pull up to the boutique and see Michael’s beaming face plastered to the window from the second story of the building.

“Mikey!” Calum greets as soon as the elevator door opens, bounding in like a puppy (Ashton will never stop saying that because it’s true goddammit) to drape himself all over the husband-to-be.

Michael’s already in a little bow tie and a black suit that’s getting wrinklier by the second, no thanks to Calum. He does a little wave despite the weight on his arm, “Hey guys!”

“Shut up,” Luke says as he pulls Michael in almost violently for a hug. “You’re gonna pull a ‘hey guys’ on us when we’re about to be your groomsmen?”

“Best man!” Calum shouts.

“Shut the fuck up,” Luke threatens again, voice muffled from where its pressed into Michael’s shoulder. “Get in here,” He complains to Ashton who willingly obliges and throws himself into the man pile.

The boutique staff giggle at them from where they’re standing around the room holding various pieces of Michael’s suit.

Ashton’s about to crack a joke about how Crystal’s going to be blown away by seeing Michael go from boxers filled with holes to a 4-piece suit when he swears his phone pings louder than the combined pings from the phones of Lauren and all her friends during a girls sleepover.

It’s suddenly awkward. For Ashton. Just Ashton.

Ashton knows it’s coming, but he still flinches when Michael asks, “Is that April?!”

“According to Lauren, they were being lovey-dovey last night,” Calum swoons teasingly.

“And she staaaaaayed the night,” Luke drags out.

Ashton wants to murder all of them.

Michael whistles. “You know it’s serious when the sister and the girlfriend meet.”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Ashton complains. “We’re getting suits fitted for Michael’s wedding, guys. Be a little respectful.”

“Michael literally started this conversation,” Luke points out.

“Can I just try on my suit now please?” He says unnecessarily loudly.

Immediately, the boutique staff jump into action, pulling suits protected by plastic bags seemingly out of nowhere and ushering Ashton into an open changing room where a lady comes over with bright green measuring tape. The other boys grumble at the change in topic but oblige, spreading out and opening their arms to let the staff take their measurements.

“So I was thinking either a classic all-black colour scheme for the boys,” Michael says, tapping his chin. “Or a fancy navy blue instead. My handsome self in a full suit and you guys in suspenders. That would be hot. What do you guys think?”

“Did Crystal say anything about what she wanted?” Luke asks as he’s examining the suit they’d brought over to him.

“Nope,” Michael replies, pulling on his bowtie. “Said you guys were all mine.”

“Awww,” Calum says jokingly, grinning over the shoulder of the staff person attending to him. “That’s so sweet, Mikey. I love you too.”

Ashton snorts. “Don’t go cheating on your girl with Michael, you homewrecker.”

“Oh, yeah!” Calum exclaims, suddenly perking up. Ashton has a bad feeling in his stomach. “You haven’t met my girl yet, have you?”

“Uh, no,” Ashton replies, unsure. “Not yet.”

The smile that grows instantaneously on Calum’s face almost blinds him. “And I haven’t met April yet! So you, me, our girls! Double date, tomorrow night! You can’t say no Ash, I know you don’t have anything to do tomorrow and you’re the only one that hasn’t met her yet.”

Fuck. “Fuck!” Ashton says, laughing nervously. “I wish I could man, but I have to take care of Lauren.”

Michael snorts from where he’s lounging on the couch. “Lauren’s an adult now. Stop being overprotective. You’re probably smothering her with your axe body spray and protein shakes anyway. I bet she’s gonna go on a date herself as soon as you’re gone.”

“If you’re so worried, she can always come over and hang with me and Sierra,” Luke shrugs. “Sierra’s been talking non-stop about those sugar cookies Lauren gave us last time. And Petunia loves her, seriously.”

Ashton panics. “Well definitely not tomorrow!” Because who the fuck is he gonna show up with? Their PR manager? “Uh, what about like, next week? Or next next next next week?”

Calum ignores the second part of his sentence entirely. “Next week then!” He exclaims excitedly.

Fuck!

“I’m going to try this thing on,” Ashton says quickly, grabbing the suit closest to him before he’s all but throwing the curtain closed. As soon as he’s alone, he throws the suit aside and then can’t dig his phone out of his pocket fast enough. When he presses the home button, it shows he has one message from Tinder, from Luna. He opens it hastily.

So according to Google, you’re intelligent, athletic, playful, affectionate, and loyal? 🐶😂 Sounds almost too good to be true.

‘So let me prove it to you! May Petunia and I take you and Oreo out on a brunch date this weekend, my lady?’ He types back quickly, adding ‘my lady’ to hopefully charm the pants off her. He hopes it isn’t too soon for that. Petunia isn’t even his freaking dog.

He’s so busy chanting please say yes over and over again in his head while clutching onto his phone that it startles him when his phone pings loudly again.

Luke, Michael, and Calum start hollering from outside.

Sounds great! 😊 I’m free Saturday. Where to?

★

As soon as Luke drops him off back home, he runs up six flights of stairs back up to his apartment because if he has to wait more than ten seconds for the slow ass elevator, he’s going to lose his mind.

He scares Lauren off the couch when he barges through the front door screaming her name.

“I have a date on Saturday!” Ashton whispers through his heavy breathing, wide-eyed and sounding both smug and scared at the same time because fuck yeah, I scored this date myself but also fuck! I scored this date myself.

“What? With Luna?” Lauren asks, equally as wide-eyed from where she’d fallen to the floor. “How? You were only gone for like 3 hours!” Then her tone switches from surprised to demanding so fast, Ashton gets whiplash. “And who the heck is April?!”

Ashton straightens up immediately and clears his throat. “Yeah, so, uh, long story.”

“I’m on summer vacation right now. Cough it up.”

Ashton goes to the fridge instead where he pulls out a beer because there’s no way he’s about to tell Lauren what’s probably the most embarrassing story of his life while sober.

And then they sit on the couch like they had yesterday when he matched with Luna on Tinder except this time, Lauren’s face gets less and less impressed the more he talks.

“So what you’re telling me,” Lauren starts slowly. “Is that you’re standing in a grave that’s 10 feet deep right now because your pride and ego are bigger than your brain?”

Ashton winces. “Can’t you sugarcoat it a little bit?”

“No!” Lauren explodes, almost knocking the beer out of his hands. “Are you even interested in Luna? What if you guys go on your date on Saturday and she’s completely into you and you’re just using her so you can one-up your friends and feed your male ego?” Ashton opens his mouth to say something but Lauren doesn’t let him. “And also!” She snaps. “What if she recognizes you when she sees you? Your face isn’t exactly clear in your Tinder photos. Your face is going to be all over the news Sunday morning, I swear to God!”

“Hey, just because I’m famous doesn’t mean I can’t date.” Ashton defends.

“Yeah, but does she know? What if she doesn’t know who you are and you two get caught on your date and suddenly, her face is all over the internet too?”

Ashton winces. ”Okay, you’re right.” He pauses. “You’re also right about me leading her on.”

“Thank you,” Lauren says grumpily, crossing her arms.

“But I mean,” Ashton says in a small voice. “I’m also not opposed to finding someone new?”

Lauren sighs. “How about you and Luna go on that date on Saturday, and if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. You both wish each other well and both go on your merry ways.”

“...And if it does?”

“Then don’t get mad when I say I told you so!”

★

The days that lead up to Saturday are almost too slow.

On Wednesday, Luna had finally asked for Ashton’s number, texting him a cute puppy emoji to let him know the text was from her. On the same day, Luna had gone from calling him Fletcher to Fletch with no explanation, causing his heart rate to spike for a good twenty minutes before Lauren slapped him back to present-day reality.

On Wednesday afternoon, Ashton found himself frantically googling pet-friendly restaurants that served both pizza and alcohol. For bougie ass downtown Los Angeles, it was fucking difficult. But he’d managed to find one thirty minutes out of the city centre that had a nice outdoor patio and a menu for dogs. When he texted her the address, he got a ‘thank you for finding a place!’ back from Luna and it made his heart skip a goddamn beat because his ex had never thanked him for something like that.

On Thursday morning before the sun had even risen, Ashton had startled himself awake when he remembered he needed Petunia for Saturday. Squinting at his phone in the dark, he’d sent Luke a frantic text, reading: ‘Michael was fucking right Lauren’s going on a date on Saturday!!!!! Can you do me a huge favour and let her borrow Petunia for the day I don’t trust her SKETCHY ASS TINDER DATE’. And then Luke had texted him back not two minutes later, not even about Ashton texting him at ass o’clock, but about who Lauren was going on a date with, if Ashton knew him, why he was sketchy, and if he needed to kick anyone’s ass. He spent the next hour trying to convince Luke that they didn’t need to follow her on her date. In the end, it had turned into a she just needs Petunia goddammit Hemmings go back to bed.

By the time Saturday finally rolls around, Ashton is fucking winded.

Lauren’s still in bed (still in his bed, mind you), half asleep and bleary eyed and watching him dig around head first in the closet, mumbling to himself.

“Dude,” Lauren groans, breaking the silence for the first time since Ashton had barged in with no explanation. “This is too much action for eight in the morning,”

“Brunch is at ten and I still need to pick up Petunia!” He hisses, head popping out of a pile of clothing a moment later with two shirts in hand. “The black button-up or the blue polo?”

Lauren groans again. “What colour pants are you wearing?”

“Grey.”

“Black button-up.”

Ashton flings the blue polo back into the closet before Lauren can even finish her sentence, pulling his sleeping shirt off immediately afterwards.

“Ash, ew!” Lauren grumbles, flopping backwards onto the bed and throwing the covers over her head. Her head pops back out a moment later. “Just make sure to roll up the sleeves so you don’t look like you’re coming from a freaking business conference. And don’t button up all the way!”

“Got it!” He says hastily as he’s running out the door. “Thanks Laurie, love you, see you, bye!”

He’s already sweating by the time he gets into his car, the summer heat already at a sweltering 25 degrees celsius and rising despite it being so early in the morning. But even though it feels like Satan’s armpit, he pulls on a hoodie anyway because he’d rather die than have Luke see him dressed up in a button-up for supposedly no goddamn reason. It’s a little past 9am by the time he pulls into Luke’s driveway, Luke already standing there with an excited Petunia pulling on the leash.

He throws open the car door. “Petunia!” He greets, out of breath for no reason.

Petunia yips, panting happily and immediately trying to clamber all over Ashton’s lap as he bends down to pat at her head.

“I don’t know how useful Petunia’s going to be if Lauren’s date turns out to be a creep,” Luke says worriedly, still tugging on the leash to get Petunia to calm down. “Are you sure you don’t want us to follow her?”

“Mate, we’re both over six feet tall.” Ashton retorts. “If we follow her around, we’re both going to look creepier than her date.”

Luke squints. “How are you not worried?”

“I am!” Ashton insists. He’s lying out of his ass. “But Petunia’s a bulldog. No offense but her reputation is already scarier than any face we could ever pull.”

“Just make sure Lauren picks up the phone if you call!” Luke’s voice trails as Ashton opens the car’s passenger door and ushers Petunia inside. She settles nicely into the seat, looking up at Ashton with more love and adoration in her eyes than her owner ever did. “And take this bag!” He says, shoving a plastic bag that’s almost overflowing with the amount of shit that’s in it. “It’s Petunia’s food and toys. Tell Lauren to feed her and make sure she’s hydrated and-”

Ashton climbs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door on him.

“-And don’t forget to bring Petunia back by dinner! I swear to god, Irwin!” Luke screams through the glass. “Love you Petunia!”

The entire ride to the brunch place, Petunia just sticks her head out the window, tongue flying in the wind as she bops her head to the classical music Ashton had put on to calm himself the fuck down. The closer he gets to the restaurant, the more he feels himself getting a stomach ache. He doesn’t even remember the last time he’d felt this nervous for a date but if this doesn’t work out and he ends up going to Mikey’s wedding by himself, Calum might cry on his behalf and Luke might force him to be his and Sierra’s plus-two and as the oldest in the goddamn band, he’s not sure if he can handle that kind of humiliation.

But if this actually does work out with Luna, then he’ll just tell her the truth after Mikey’s wedding. That would be fine, right? Assuming nobody asks why the names Luna and April don’t match up.

Ashton groans. This is an entire goddamn mess.

The brunch place is packed by the time he pulls into a spot fifteen minutes before his reservation. There are dogs everywhere and Petunia’s so excited to see other beings of her kind that she’s resorted to pacing in circles impatiently in the passenger seat.

“Hold on Petunia,” Ashton groans, cutting the engine and throwing a hand over his eyes. “I’m nervous. Give me a minute.”

And because she’s the most perfect dog to ever exist (don’t tell Calum he said that), she stops pacing and starts licking gently at his hand. For once, Ashton doesn’t mind the slobber. He grins, looking down at her. “Okay, fine. Out we go then, baby.”

Before he slides out of the car, he pulls off his hoodie and puts on his sunglasses, thankfully fitting right in with all the other bougie people in their sundresses and designer purses who have time to wake up early on a Saturday for a brunch date with their dogs. He and Petunia bypass the ridiculous line, ignoring all the people who start cooing at Petunia. Thank fuck he’d made a reservation.

“Fletcher for two?” He says, trying to make his voice sound more like Fletcher Nobody Irwin and less like Ashton from 5SOS.

He tenses for a moment when the hostess pauses mid-greeting to eye him up and down. To throw her off, he gestures at Petunia who’s busy sniffing at a dandelion. “This is Monster Truck.” He introduces.

It’s then that the hostess looks at him again, decides that anybody who names their dog Monster Truck probably isn’t anybody famous and gestures behind her. “Follow me, sir. Your table is right by the water.”

Ashton lets out the breath he’d been holding when he and the hostess round the corner and he sees the only empty table on the patio, meaning Luna had yet to arrive. He picks the seat with his back facing the majority of the restaurant’s patrons. The hostess plucks the ‘reserved’ sign off the table, hands him the menu, wishes him a good time and then leaves him alone which Ashton is thankful for because he’d rather be left alone to have his panic attack by himself.

Petunia sits dutifully by his feet, drinking the water that the hostess had generously poured into a clear glass bowl for her.

Ashton is so busy trying to calm the hell down that he doesn’t notice the giant dalmatian sniffing at him from behind until its nose bumps right into where he’s most ticklish. He jumps at the same time a voice behind him squeaks, “Sorry!”

His heart has time to throw itself wildly against his chest bone exactly 1 time before he’s whipping around in his chair and coming face to face with stunning pale blue eyes. “Luna?” He breathes out, his eyes catching hers just as the words leave his mouth. Wow, okay. Jesus fuck, her Tinder photos had not done the colour of her eyes any justice.

Her unsure face transforms suddenly into a smile. “And you must be Fletcher?”

He almost does a double-take at the name before he remembers that oh yeah, he’s supposed to be Fletcher I-Eat-Brunch-With-Sunglasses-On Irwin and making a good impression right now because Mikey’s wedding. “Yeah, yes! That’s me.” His palms are sweaty and he can’t tell if it’s because they’re sitting on an outdoor patio is 30 degree weather or if it’s just his pretty date making him more nervous than his ex had ever made him.

It’s at this moment that Petunia (god bless her soul) decides to come lumbering over from her water bowl, her panting, drooly, smiling face looking up at Luna like she hung the stars (which, in Ashton’s opinion, is very fitting for her name).

“And this must be Petunia!” Luna exclaims, bending down to pat the bulldog’s head. Luna’s hand is so small it’s practically dwarfed by Petunia’s giant head. “It’s nice to meet you.” She says to Petunia and oh my god, Ashton could melt right then and there.

Instead, Oreo decides to try and sniff his crotch as Ashton tries to stand. He makes a strangled sound as Oreo’s nose digs into the front of his pants. “Holy crap,” He blurts, because he apparently has no brain-to-mouth filter. “Petunia has never reached that high before.”

“I am so sorry,” Luna squeaks again, blushing up to her ears. “Oreo, behave please! This is my first date with such a handsome guy,” She jokes shyly, pulling the dalmatian back by the leash.

It’s Ashton’s turn to turn bright fucking red. Holy shit. He feels like a 15-year old virgin all over again.

“He must smell the golden retriever german shepherd mix in me,” Ashton jokes back.

She pauses and then looks up at him for a moment before she bursts into laughter. “Oh, that’s right!” She says as she reaches into her purse and pulls out a cookie shaped like a bone. It’s wrapped in plastic and tied together with a pink ribbon. She holds it out to him shyly. “I did promise you a treat. I hope you like gingerbread?” Oh, wow.

“Is this for me or for Petunia?” He teases as he takes it, because he wants to see her blush again.

She giggles and Ashton feels like his heart might fall out of his chest. “For you.”

Ashton can feel the heat creeping up his neck. He stands again, without Oreo all up in his crotch this time, and for a second he has to pause because holy shit, Luna is tiny, the top of her head just reaching his shoulders. And then she looks up at him, smiling, which kicks him back into gear, stumbling around the table to pull her chair out of her.

“Thank you,” She mumbles, cheeks still red. Oreo follows her as she sits down, folding his legs underneath him right next to Petunia who he sniffs a couple times before turning to Petunia’s water bowl to stick his face into. Petunia doesn’t look like she minds.

“So,” Ashton starts as soon as he’s settled back down. It’s when he pulls up the menu to his face that he realizes he can’t see the tiny font through the dark tint of his sunglasses. Shit. “Uh.” Luna’s looking at him expectantly from over the top of her menu. “You studied psych in school?” He asks, diverting the conversation by pulling the topic straight out of his asshole.

She smiles so much that her eyes disappear into little moons. “You remember that from my bio?”

“That, and the dogs and the pizza and the wine,” He lists off, grinning on autopilot when she does and trying not to make it obvious he’s trying to find the right time to take off his sunglasses. What the hell kind of expensive ass sunglasses are these anyway? “Psych’s very cool.”

Oreo yips.

“Yeah, Oreo’s pretty cool with me studying psych too,” Luna jokes, reaching down to rub at Oreo’s head. “What about you? What do you do?”

Ashton freezes. Lauren’s words from yesterday start ringing in his head. It’s now or never. Now or never.

His heart is hammering in his chest as he slowly, inconspicuously slides the sunglasses off his face, getting ready to launch himself over the table and towards the car park if she starts screaming.

When nothing happens, he looks back up at her. She’s still staring politely at him even though his sunglasses are completely off now and his bare face is exposed for the world to see and lit up from the glaring sun. Those pale blue eyes blink back at him.

Nothing. Ashton inhales sharply. She… doesn’t recognize him?

“I’m a drum teacher,” Ashton blurts, the words flying out of his mouth before his brain even knows what he’s saying. Okay, too close! Too close to real life, Jesus Christ. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to make any connections.

“No way! Drums?” She says, looking surprised. Her expression melts into a wide smile. “That’s really cool! I don’t think I’ve ever gotten my hands on a drum kit before. Maybe you could teach me sometime.” She compliments genuinely, looking at him shyly. She reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and for moment, Ashton’s fucking smitten. He forgets all about the fact that he’s the drummer of the band that released Youngblood, multi-platinum certified and #1 on the Billboard Top 200. For today, he’s just a regular fucking guy out for brunch and Luna’s attention is all on him. He feels like a sponge, trying to absorb as much of it as he can.

Thankfully, the waiter that’s serving them chooses that moment to swing by and introduce himself with too much enthusiasm for this early in the morning, looking like serving brunch to people with too much money is his life calling.

“And what would this lovely couple like to order today?” The waiter sings eagerly.

Luna stutters. “O-Oh, we’re not...”

Ashton doesn’t even bother denying the waiter. “The blueberry pupcakes for Petunia and just the steak and eggs for me, please,” He says, smiling before glancing up at his date. The waiter pretends to swoon at his charm. “And for you, my lady?”

Luna laughs at the subtle reference to their tinder conversation, a rosy blush decorating her cheeks. “The Poochini for Oreo, please, and I’ll take the prosciutto flatbread. Thank you.”

The waiter leaves with promises of their food soon.

“So, the prosciutto flatbread?” Ashton jokes. The look on her face says she already knows where this is going.

“It’s the closest thing I can get to pizza here,” She says with a serious face before she bursts into giggles not two seconds later.

Fuck, Ashton’s in love.

★   

| TBC |

[evangclines-blog1]

what  if  we  ......  pretended  this  was  a  good  intro  .....  aha  just  kidding  .....  unless  ?  i  was  just  gonna  link  to  all  my  stuff  but  ...  ur  girl  wrote  a  lot  and  i  don’t  wanna  be  cruel  and  force  u  all  to  read  everything  JDBWBDJBWJ  so  here we  go  !!   <3

( VENUS, PARK SOOYOUNG, CIS FEMALE, SHE /HER ) guess what, EVANGELINE RHEE has just landed in cannes with their private jet. they are a TWENTY-TWO year old socialite, who spends much of their time & money UPDATING THEIR SKINCARE ROUTINE. i think their family is in the ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY and their net worth is around 10B USD.   

first things first ... i’m gonna drop some links in case u want to read everything i wrote at 6 am the day the submit closed bc im stoopid like that <3 

here u can find her full bio, stats, extended stats, and hcs ! the hcs are definitely the most fun to read so i recommend going to that page hehe

into the summary we go !

BACKSTORY:  suicide mention tw

eva’s dad is a movie producer and her mom was the beautiful woman he met at a train station <3 her parents had a very whirlwind romance, very love at first sight, very passionate and intense type of relationship literally everything you see in hollywood ? they had that ! they got married after only a year of knowing each other and had eva soon after 

thats when things got not-so-picturesque /: after having eva, her mom entered a pretty dark depression. eva’s dad ( who had been aware of his wife’s mental health and even warned by her family against doing anything crazy like getting married and having a whole baby so fast ) was kinda in denial about everything. eva’s mom still had her good days, but the bad days were really bad & when eva was only two years old her mom had an accident & passed away 

so while eva’s dad was grieving, he sent little eva to new york city to go live with her grandma !! eva adored her grandmother more than anyone else. she was a retired jazz singer, and a lot of what they did together was sit around and listen to old records <3 eva lived with her until she was five years old & that’s pretty much the only childhood she can remember since her mom died when she was so young !! 

when her dad brings eva back to france, he’s doing a lot better. he’s back to producing movies and throwing parties and being a part of society again ( things he had stopped while he was grieving for his wife ) and he even found his own form of “medicine” which was simply the company of beautiful women ! most of them were young actresses he met through his work, all of them were gorgeous, and they all adored little eva <3 

eva adored them right back ! they taught her stuff she imagined all mother’s teach their daughters: how to dress well, how to smell nice, how to get people’s attention, what makeup to wear, how to do your hair, how to speak so everyone hangs on to your every word, etc. she was still a little girl but she was absorbing all these lessons like a sponge, & it’s a big part of why she’s so obsessed with her own femininity and why she’s got this mindset about being beautiful inside & out in order to feel balanced. 

none of the women her dad brought home were ever at her house for more than a week. her father, who had been a notorious bachelor before eva’s mother, seemed incapable of falling in love again. that was his first and maybe only lesson to eva, which was how to break hearts, which is something else she absorbed & carried with her as she grew up

as eva grew up, she kinda became obsessed with trying to imagine what her mom had been like. no one in her family liked to talk about her, especially not her dad, but she knew she looked just like her and she was kinda always trying to fill in the blanks. but then one christmas her dad let it slip that her mom’s death hadn’t been an accident at all, that it had been on purpose. that was kind of the turning point for eva & she just kind of....stopped trying to re imagine her mom after that just kinda wanting to let her rest /:

she also went through a phase of doing stuff just because she could. she’d flirt with people’s boyfriends, she’d make strangers fall in love with her, she’d date people just to break up with them suddenly, etc. she kind of realized just how much she could get away with, but more than that, just how far people would go when they fell in love. she was obsessed with that, but also kind of jealous of those people just because she’d never felt that kind of soul shattering love for someone before and she really does want to </3 while she’s never been in love before, and while she does get bored of lovers easily, she still feels a type of attachment that is sometimes so strong she’s not willing to let the other person go even if she’s being selfish by hanging onto people she can’t get serious abt /: thats just life sometimes......whore rights !

FUN FACTS , PERSONALITY, AND TIDBITS: whore antics tw

 goes by eva, never evangeline. her grandma has always called her angel, and so that nickname has also carried over naturally

libra sun AND moon babey ! read abt it here

wears euphoria makeup to do groceries

 moved from paris to new york city for college to attend columbia university. double majored in english literature and business management. 

created what she called the “manhattan group” in reference to the bloomsbury group, which was a group of associated english writers, intellectuals, philosophers and artists in the first half of the 20th century ( that included writers like virginia woolf ) duringher freshman year. although meetings were supposed to be about discussing literature, it mostly became a place to drink warming champagne, flirt, and gossip. eva hosted the events & meetings off campus inside her loft. the manhattan group only lasted her freshman year though, as rumors of all the underage drinking and “cult-like behavior” persuaded her to drop it. that, and the fact that more than one member had fallen in love with her and things were getting quite tense. 

she never carries a lighter because she likes the way more than one person will offer her one if she asks for a light <3 

it’s a famous rumor that eva once spilled her drink on her chanel mini-dress at a charity gala and stripped down to her lingerie in front of everyone. it would have stayed a rumor if it wasn’t for the instagram story that went up of her only her underwear. 

she has a house phone in her nyc loft that only a select few people ( minus the strangers she’s given the number to while drunk ) know the number 

has a three year old black cat named june that she brought with ehr to cannes <3 

is the proud owner of a black maserati despite being an infamous bad driver. no one in their right mind, especially not her friends, would ever trust eva to drive.

it’s rumored she once snuck onto the yacht of a ceo to a fortune 500 company, only for him to find her in nothing but a bath towel eating chocolates while flipping through his playboy magazines, and that he was so taken with her instead of pressing charges he decided to name the boat after eva.

once spent a whole day walking around paris in a cheap pink wig and calling herself yvette. nobody could figure out why. eva often pulls stunts like this on a whim.

believes 2 is an unlucky number and is very superstitious about it, as that is the year her mother died. fully believes her twenties are cursed and is actually looking forward to the day she turns 30 just to escape the 2′s.

leonardo dicaprio once made a pass at her during the after party of a movie premiere she was attending.

during full moons, eva always has sex with the windows open. even if it’s winter, a window will be cracked open. this is one of her many personal superstitions. 

has a collection of old love letters, mixtapes, and presents past suitors and secret admirers have gifted her. while she cannot remember the origin of quite a few of the objects in her collection, she is attached to them still.

owns a replica of the famous cross necklace filled with cocaine that kathryn had in cruel intentions.

literally i basically just copied most of my hcs page im a clown i cant do summaries...

ok so personality wise ? shes a flirt. a whore, if u will. yes thats a personality trait now. literally if ur breathing shes flirting doesnt matter who u are doesnt matter if ur married if u have 10 kids doesnt matter like she will flirt....does not know how to open her mouth without flirting 

big on aesthetics /: believes everyone should get manicures like if ur cuticles are showing shes gonna gag . get help <3

not good at being held accountable for her actions. she’s not really the type to be malicious on purpose, but since she really does play with ppls feelings a lot it’s inevitable she’s gonna hurt someone but if u bring it up shes just gonna be like .. me ? at fault ? u must have the wrong girl i’m angel ...

likes 2 play games JSBDWBDJW clearly....matters of the heart are her fave kind but she also likes doing kinda ridiculous stuff for fun just to see how ppl are gonna react, also likes to do stuff just bc she knows she can usually get away with it 

loves skin care like she will be ur dermatologist ( self appointed ) she will gift u a moisturizer she will get everyone to do facemasks with her u cannot escape it ...

has trouble being alone but won’t admit it / doesn’t even really realize it ??? like it is... very rare u will ever find her sleeping alone or spending a whole day in just her own company 

not shy.....at all like JBSJDWBJDW she could use some shame but she has zero unfortunately 

despite being a whore....she is a HUGE romantic like whew she is obsessed with old love songs & is always playing them on her record player she loves to slow dance <3 she often gives ppl her fave poems ( usually poems abt sex ), she loves getting roses, loves kissing ppl on the cheek when she’s wearing lipstick, & she likes to leave ppl voicemails like ... shes really living like she is the main chara of a romance movie and everyone else is extra #5 most of the time... 

idk what else to say im sure shes gonna evolve once we start rping bc that always happens to me but....for now.....this is the end ! *cue feel special by twice*

[neigcthood]

it’s a scam

Calum hood x reader

Summary: calum hood finds a girl who might be just as anti-valentine’s day as himself.

Note: this is probably gonna be really bad but v day makes me emo so here ya go

No one hated Valentine’s Day as much as Y/n. She had been introduced to the dreadful holiday when she was only five. Her kindergarten class held a Valentine’s Day party. It wasn’t then that she realized she disliked February fourteenth. It was when she was thirteen, when everyone was getting boyfriends and girlfriends. Everyone seemed to be so involved with one another except herself. It’s not like she wanted a boyfriend, she learned from her mother that she didn’t need one. She just wanted to feel loved and appreciated, Isn’t that what Valentine’s Day is about? She watched all her friends get gifts from their boyfriends as she ate some candy her mom bought her so she didn’t feel left out.

Y/n was beautiful, but she had a different soul and personality. She never fit into the stereotypes of pop music and Starbucks, she was so much more than that. As she walked into the target at twelve o’clock in the morning, hoping to snatch the clearance candy that was usually on the shelves. She was wearing a hoodie and Christmas pajama pants, not her normal outfit but it was comfortable. The store was empty as she walked down the isle of the holiday section, everywhere she looked she saw hearts and pink. She hated pink. The only good thing about Valentine’s Day was the candy. She couldn’t help but recognize the song that was playing through the store, one of Frankie Valli’s. She couldn’t help but sing along, unaware of the watching eyes.

“You’re just too good to be true...can’t take my eyes off you…” she sang to herself and the stranger on the isle besides her as she grabbed the last bag of skittles off the shelf. Calum had a smile on his face as he watched the pretty girl sing. “To warm the lonely night…I love you baby.” He didn’t mean to stare but the girl was adorable. He also didn’t mean to catch her eye. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of the tall boy on her left. He was beautiful, he had dark curly hair and chocolate eyes that stared back at her own. She usually just ignored the feelings in her stomach towards an attractive stranger. But everything in her body was telling her to talk to him. He had a soft smile on his face as he shook his head. “That was quite a show you put on for those skittles.” He chuckled and she could’ve sworn her heart stopped at the sound of his laugh. “Hey, skittles deserve all of the entertainment.” She smiled at him as he walked over to her isle.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was a beautiful show.” He grabbed the chocolate that was by her head. She caught a sniff of his scent, he smelled of rain and nicotine. She found herself almost leaning into the stranger. “Thank you….” “Calum.” He looked at her arms full of candy and cheesy unscary scary movies and laughed. “Y/n, nice to meet you Calum. I would shake your hand if I wasn’t carrying my weight in chocolates right now. She just only picked up his accent, he sounded Australian but there was a hint of something else in his deep voice.

“It’s lovely to meet you too, if I may ask why are you in a target at twelve o’clock in the morning on Valentine’s Day. Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your boyfriend or something?” Calum leaned against the shelf and looked down at the girl. “Flattered, but can’t hang out with someone who doesn’t exist, Calum.” She smiled at him. “Oh so you just come to target and sing to Frankie Valli for fun?” He quirked an eyebrow at her and smiled. “No you doof.” She laughed at him. “I just decided to treat myself this Valentine’s Day, that nobody seems to be enjoying except the people who are sucking each other’s faces off.” Y/n bent down to grab her starburst that she dropped.

“You’re something else huh?” Calum pulled the strings of his green hoodie. She looked up at him and admired his face, how could someone be so pretty? “Why are you alone on this Valentine’s Day, Sir Calum?” She turned her body so she could face him. “It’s a scam, s’all fake.” He said it so nonchalantly. Y/n scanned over his face, sometimes she wished she was a hopeless romantic so she had something to say in situations like this, but instead her brain was numb.

“Listen, i know you just told me you think all this is a scam. And trust me when I say I never do this, like ever. But I feel something here and if I’m being honest it’s scaring the hell out of me. And I know I’m just rambling now and you probably aren’t even listening, but can i get your number or something? So maybe we don’t have to be alone next Valentine’s Day.” Y/n rambled our not even paying attention to the words falling out of her mouth. The height difference was drastic between them as Calum looked down at her with a soft smile on his face.

“I would never pass up the opportunity to give a pretty girl my number.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek as if to tell her he felt the same thing.

-

*the next Valentine’s Day*

“Calum where are you taking me?” Y/n said from the passenger seat of calum’s car, their hands were intertwined with each other and the both had soft smiles on their faces. “You’ll see, be patient darling.” He winked at her and her heart did a little flutter thing that it did anytime the boy did something cute. A playlist Calum had made for her played from the speakers, as his soft thumb ran over her hand. “You’re so cute.” Calum sighed as he glanced at her. She just looked at him and blushed and Calum swore his heart skipped a beat. “Whatever, you’re cuter.” She nudged his shoulder with her hand that wasn’t holding his.

They had been dating for almost ten months now, their hearts and minds both clouded with the love they had for each other. They couldn’t get enough and they didn’t want to. Calum brought Y/n’s hand up to his lips and gave it a soft kiss as she smiled out the window. They soon pulled into a empty target parking lot. “I really do love you Calum.” She sighed as she looked over to him. “As do I, princess.” He grabbed both of her cheeks and pulled her face in for a sweet kiss, he pulled away and preceded to pepper wet kisses all along her face. “Calum stop!” She laughed as he continued his kiss attack. She had never been more in love. “Come on. Let’s get in the back.” He jumped out of the car and nearly sprinted over to her side to get the door. He grabbed her hand as she got out and shut the car door behind her.

It was crazy to both of them to think that just a year ago, the both almost gagged at the word love but now here they were sitting like two doves in the wind. The back of Calum’s car was covered in blankets and pillows. There was a target bag in the middle, and Y/n laughed at the memory of their first encounter. “All for you, my love.” Calum hugged the love of his life from behind and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Y/n was so happy she swore she could melt into a puddle. “What are you waiting for? Hop in.” Calum sat on the edge of the trunk and patted the spot next to him.

Once they were both settled in Calum grabbed the chocolate strawberries and skittles from the bag and opened them. “Open your mouth.” He nudged Y/n’s shoulder. “Oh. Already hood?” She giggled at him as he rolled his eyes, but nonetheless she opened her mouth as he placed the chocolate covered fruit into her mouth and kissed her forehead. She was his angel. The two cuddled all night in the backseat of his car. Talking about how horrible life would be if they didn’t have each other. They both realized something. Valentine’s Day isn’t about the sex or diamonds. It was about showing each other how much they appreciated them. But Calum continued to show Y/n how much he loved and appreciated her everyday.