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natalicss · 2 months ago

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Like We Were In Paris

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

part two

summary: you and ji-yong have been dating for a couple years, keeping it under the radar the entire time. you’re both invited to the gala de pièces juanes 2025, and it’s the first time you get to see him perform live

warnings: not proofread at all, celeb!reader, implied age gap (reader is like…mid twenties?), whole lot of fluff, basically ji-yong being a simp, taeyang & rosé being captains of the ship, use of y/n, i don’t use tumblr so bare with me while i figure this out. i tried to keep descriptions of the readers outfit vague so you could imagine it to your liking!

word count: 4.1K

nat’s notes: hey y’all! i was convinced into writing a g-dragon fic (by like 3 people). i’m kinda obsessed with this. i had so many ideas while writing it & so im kind of tempted to write more of these two, but i don’t know!! this is my first like… irl person x reader (ive only written one other fic on here lmao) & i am new to g-dragon, bigbang, all that so i kept it pretty current. to me these two are very dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift coded (or just reputation coded), i cant explain why it just makes sense. the divider right below is from enchanthings here on tumblr, and the other one later on….idk its for my wattpad LMAO. anyways i hope you enjoy, and im sorry in advance if you hate it. toodles!

You still remember the first time you met Ji-yong.

You were in need of some inspiration. Working on your fourth album, the intense gaze of your record label, your management, your fans, and your musically gifted peers was crushing you. It seemed to do more harm than good. For weeks, you stared at notebooks and computers and instruments. Your manager tried to get you with various song writers. Nothing worked. So, after some persuasion from your best friend (who knew you better than anyone, having been your best friend since you were kids), you decided to do a vacation. Just you and some required security (per compromise with your team). You decided to go to Seoul, having loved it in the few times you’ve passed through on a tour. The fans there were great; always warm and welcoming and always one of your loudest shows. The culture was breathtaking. It felt like the perfect opportunity.

Your team had found a studio for you to work in. You were only there for a few weeks, but they wanted some hope that you’d come back to America with something. It was week two when you met him. You were walking towards your studio, he was walking out of his. The two of you made eye contact, and you were instantly swarmed with warmth. You didn’t believe in love at first sight (neither did he, to be fair), but you started to question it as you walked past him.

From then on, each of you seemed nosy about the other. He asked his friends who the girl was in the other studio. “Oh! The American! That’s Y/N,” He recognized your name, and now your face. He hadn’t seen you outside of a red carpet or a concert venue photo, so he didn’t recognize you with little-to-no makeup and comfortable clothes. But once it clicked, it clicked. You had asked someone working at the studio about him. They mentioned his name, Kwon Ji-Yong, and you googled him that night in your rental house.

You knew about G-Dragon, the impact he had on K-Pop and the music industry. You had heard a song here and there, but you had never seen him. Not til that day in the studio.

It was a few days until you saw him again. Your schedules just missing each other. Then, one day, your producer was running freakishly late to your meeting time, and Ji-yong was walking out of his own studio. You stood there, more like paced there, tapping wildly on your phone trying to get in contact with your producer, whispering to yourself in frustration.

Ji-yong had the courage to speak up, say hello, and the rest is history. Stories for another time, maybe.

Your friendship eventually blossomed into a relationship, defying all cliches of long distance and the terrors that often comes with it. It helped that he was on hiatus and you had became a professional of staying out of the public eye. You both wanted to keep what you had to yourself. Your teams did, too, but they got less strict as two months eventually became two years. It was on your terms now, when you'd let everyone know about your status, but neither of you had felt ready to let the world in on something so…yours. So peaceful, so effortless, so pure. It was easy, the two of you traveling between South Korea and America to spend time together, or going on vacations together, or just taking quiet retreats into each others homes.

Nobody ever thought of it, either. There was no reason to. Unless they’d been in the studio that day, the media had no way to expect any crossover of America’s Princess and the King of K-Pop. The media would rather gossip about you in relationships with the usual Hollywood celebrities, some of whom were just friends, some you’d never met. Neither of you mind rumors, it kept the media out of your relationship and sometimes they were hilariously ridiculous. So, you let the press talk their talk. You and Ji-yong kept to yourselves, careful on your information you’d share with friends (it was easy for things to be leaked, these days).

When Ji-yong told you he was officially making his comeback to the industry, you were ecstatic for him. You knew how much he loved making music and performing. You also knew, though he’d never admit it, sometimes when he’d sneak to join you on tour, he got a bit jealous watching you sing and dance on stage. He’d watched you collab with numerous artists, tasting just about every genre you could before eventually finding your new sound. It made him sad, some nights, missing that glow you often had instead. But most nights? Most nights he was beaming from behind the stage, watching you do what you loved most. Most people sink in this world, but you? You swam, no, you effortlessly floated in the sea of fame. And it was obvious to anyone around you. Part of what he loved most about you was your creative drive, something he shared. It inspired him, more than you’d ever know.

Ji-yong's comeback had been more than successful, as expected. Throughout your relationship, the two of you had fumbled with varying songs and styles for each other. Oftentimes more playful than not. You guys fueled each other in the best ways. You released your newest album in 2024, and you were about to start your world tour in the early months of 2025. Ji-yong would follow suit, his first solo album in years coming out soon and then starting his own tour.

Both of you were wracked with nerves, spending days in rehearsals, wardrobe tests, photo shoots, traveling all over for various projects. It had been weeks since you’d seen each other. After the holidays you were swimming in press for your new tour. He had been equally busy, filming his show, performing at various shows. You both loved it. You loved your jobs and you loved each others jobs. But even you two would struggle on the days where it’d been long, exhausting, and mentally draining; wanting nothing more than each other’s warmth.

The Gala des Pièces Jaunes, a show that helps collect donations for charity in Paris, had invited both of you to perform, along with other various stars. Little did they know, they had invited the world's most popular secret couple. You had been ecstatic. Not only did you love the message the event had, but you loved the idea of sharing the stage with so many extremely talented artists. Including, your boyfriend.

The night before the show, you had inconspicuously snuck your way towards Ji-yong’s room. You had wanted to get a hotel room together, but knew that you had to be careful with the amount of eyes on both of you this weekend. Still, that didn’t stop you from wondering around until you ended up at his door. With your special knock– each knock a syllable in your names –you waited patiently for him to open up the door to you. His eyes were sparkly, even in the shitty lighting. They always seemed to do that with you.

“Finally,” He breathed, pulling you into the room quickly. You giggled as he used your body to shut the door, his arms around you tightly. You had seen each other, earlier in the day during rehearsals. Pretending like it was your first time meeting him and Taeyang was hell. Pretending you didn’t know their names, pretending Ji-yong didn’t pick out your outfit on FaceTime, and pretending you didn’t want to latch on to him and never let go.

The only people who knew about you two were Young-bae, of course. He and Daesung had known about you for a while now, teasing their friend and bandmate for not telling them right away. The other person was Rosé, who’d been your friend for years and one of your closest friends in the celebrity world, both of you having blown up in popularity around the same time. Both of them seemed equally amused, watching you and Ji-yong try to act nonchalant around the other. Young-bae chuckling as Ji-yong watched your rehearsals in a stunned silence. He knew every song of yours by heart (even the ones from before he met you), and even when trying to act like he didn’t he could feel himself mouthing the words as he watched you and your dancers on the stage. Rosé would wink at you when she’d walk past you, and everytime you almost missed it cause you were too busy watching Ji-yong talking with his team.

But now, the two of you didn’t have to act. You couldn’t stop laughing in awe, Ji-yong smothering your face in feather-light kisses. You held on to him, your face turning pink as he continued his full-blown kiss attack. “I missed you, jagiya, so much.” He muttered against your skin. Finally, he pulled back to look over your face, pressing another kiss to your lips. You melted into his arms, your mind momentarily fuzzy. There was nothing else but him. His hands on your waist, his shirt clutched in your hands, his scent that had became your favorite. Him. Him. Him. It was always him.

“I missed you more,” You whispered, running your fingers through his minty-colored hair. He closed his eyes softly, as if soaking in your touch. Your heart swelled, as it always seemed to do with him. You had never felt this way, not in any of your previous relationships. You had been positive for a while now, Ji-yong was it for you. “Are you excited?” You asked him, tilting your head in curiosity.

He slowly opened his eyes, meeting your soft expression. He loved how you looked at him. It was something you couldn’t hide, not even at rehearsals. He sighed, pulling you by your hand further into the hotel room. “Yes. Nervous, too.” He added. You nod in understanding, he had only performed a few times since the comeback. He loved it after, always, but the nerves had been hard to shake off, even still.

“I’m excited to see you,” You beam, still keeping your fingers interlocked. You hadn’t seen him live, not yet. You had been back in America finishing up your album and starting a press tour at the time, but you always called him right before he went on to give him a final good luck, and you always snuck onto a live stream to watch.

He rolled his eyes shyly, leaning his head into your neck. “Young-bae is going to make so much fun of me.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m more nervous for you to see my performance than I was at MAMA.”

You laughed at that, bringing his face into your hands and looking at him. “You’re going to be amazing. More than amazing. You’re going to be perfect.” You reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. “And I am not afraid to bully Young-bae,” He laughed at this, throwing his head back slightly. He knew it was true, your friendship with Taeyang almost too sibling-like, to the point you two teased each other about everything.

“Are you nervous at all?” He asks you, looking over your expression, as if he’s trying to find your answer in your gaze. He did this a lot, knowing you for so long he began to pick up on things, even before you did.

“I am, but only a little,” You decide finally. It was a short set, only a few songs to perform. You had picked your most popular hits and your newest single for the setlist. And your outfit was your favorite part, matching your dancers whilst still making sure you stood out and felt confident. “Oh! I have to tell you about this thing I saw.” You pulled out of his arms, suddenly distracted by something you wanted to tell him about when you were in your room.

Ji-yong watched you quietly. His eyes filled with a lightness and admiration. He listened to you talk as you grabbed a water, waving your arms wildly to dramatize the story. He smiled, leaning against the couch in his room as he thought about how much he loved you. He loved everything about you. From the way you talked about your passions to the way you scrunched your face when you ate something you didn’t like. He loved the way you danced in the car when your favorite song came on. He loved the way you loved the people around you. He loved the way you waltzed into his heart like it was your home, and wrapped your arms around him like you were his home. You are his home, he’s sure of that. Even now, as you ramble into near nonsense about something he has no understanding of. He still watched you like you had been the most beautiful work of art he’d discovered. He was certain that was true.

Le Gala des Pièces was in full swing. Everything was going well, perfect, all of it. And you were backstage, getting your makeup touched up as you saw someone walk past your open door. You recognized him instantly, you always did. And part of you couldn’t let him go on stage without a final goodbye. “I’ll be right back!” You pushed yourself out of your chair, rushing after him. You could see him walking through the hall, too busy with his own thoughts to notice you coming to grab his wrist.

Ji-yong felt your touch, his head moving so fast he swore he heard a crack. His eyes met yours instantly, then looked you over in surprise. He hadn’t seen your outfit yet. It complimented his, something he wasn’t sure if you had done on purpose or not. A black and red outfit, the red the exact same shade as his tie. As he looked you over, you could see the different emotions flicker on his face. Admiration, lust, maybe hunger, and love. He looked up at your face again, smiling, “Hi, Y/N,” His name feels unfamiliar on his tongue, now. Over the years, nicknames had become your normal. Another thing to add to the list of things you hated about pretending you didn’t know him.

Your mouth hung open for a moment as you looked at him. You hadn’t been sure if you’d see him before he went on, so you hadn’t exactly planned your choice of words. “I wanted to wish you luck,” You stuttered out, suddenly aware of how many eyes could be on the two of you.

Ji-yong’s eyes were laced with amusement, seeing your cheeks turned pink. “I have to grab something to drink, come with me?” He asked, playing it as cool and casual as humanly possible. You itched to reach for his hand, but kept to yourself as you followed him.

As soon as you were in a dark corner, away from prying eyes, he was on you. The two of you pressed your lips together like perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands roamed his chest as his roamed your waist. You hummed happily, wishing this moment with him would never end. Adrenaline, nerves, excitement all were running high. From the show, from being around each other, from sneaking around. You felt his hands squeeze your hips, the two of you forcing yourselves to pull away. You smiled up at him, almost dizzy from him simply being in front of you. “Good luck,” You beamed.

“Is that how you wish everybody good luck?” He asks playfully. You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest as you adjusted yourselves. “I’ll see you as soon as I’m done,” He leans to kiss you again, “I love you,”

“I love you more,” You winked as he sauntered off towards where his team was waiting for him. You stayed back a moment, blushing wildly and hopping in place happily before rushing back to your own people.

You watched from backstage, wrapping yourself in a black robe to hide yourself as much as you could from the crew around you. You had passed Taeyang, who gave you a subtle handshake as he passed by for his cue. You watched in awe, seeing Ji-yong, no, G-Dragon on that stage. Seeing him do it all in person…it was ethereal. The way he moved through the stage and carried himself with this aura. He was almost mesmerizing, distracting you from the chaos backstage and your own nerves. It didn’t shock you, you’d known forever how talented he was. You’d seen videos of him from before you met, you’d seen him work for hours upon hours in studios, and you’d seen him on set for his music videos. But this was different. This was really him. This was what he was born to do, if destiny and fate were real. This was exactly that.

“Hey, pretty,” You turned your head to Rosé, Rosie, who only smiled knowingly. She linked her arm with yours, leaning into you. “You happy?”

“Happiest,” You answered, “He’s so good.”

“He is.” Rosie agreed. She giggled at your face. The two of you had met years ago, you had blown up in the music scene shortly after Blackpink. The two of you crossed paths at an event, not knowing anyone else there, and you two stuck by each others sides much like you were now. You two had been closest friends. When you told her about your first date with Ji-yong, she was ecstatic. She knew Ji-yong, and she knew that he’d be good to you. She wanted you to be happy, and that's what you were. Always when it came to Ji-yong, you were the happiest person she'd seen.

You watched the rest of his set. You smiled giddily as he and Taeyang performed together. You bit your thumb nail as you watched him move around the stage in the second outfit with the sparkling black jacket. Rosie nudging you every time she noticed you blush.

When he was off the stage, he had found you waiting for him amidst the crowd of people. He smiled happily, reaching you without much thought about anyone else. His arms swooped you in, hugging you tightly. You laughed, hugging him back. “That was amazing!” You beamed. For a moment, the two of you forgot where you were. Forgetting the curious eyes who thought you barely knew each other. When your senses kicked in, he was quick to put you back at a friendly distance. Your gaze moved to Taeyang, “You guys are phenomenal!” You hugged Young-bae too, hoping that if you acted friendly with everyone it wouldn’t cause more suspicion. “Thank you,” Ji-yong muttered, suddenly shy again. He bowed quickly at you, trying to play it off. In moments, you were hearing your name called, and his own team was surrounding him. You smiled warmly, disappearing in the crowd of crew and stars.

Ji-yong wanted to keep close to you. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms until the very moment you were on stage, but that was impossible. You were back in your greenroom, getting makeup and hair touched up, and then you were taking photos with crew members and doing more vocal warm ups. You were being whisked around every which way. He and Young-bae were staying close together, feeling the most comfortable with each other as they simply watched the show continue.

Young-bae was smiling to himself. He had been so happy for Ji-yong when he introduced you to him and Daesung. It was blatantly obvious to see how happy you made him. You made Ji-yong smile at every moment, you'd giggle at his jokes (even if Young-bae didn't think they were that funny), you would help him if you noticed his hesitation. You encouraged him. You built him up. You even started secretly learning Korean, calling Young-bae for help every now and again. The next time you visited Ji-yong, you had managed to say your first sentence in Korean, and it was actually good. You were this ray of sunshine. Anyone who knew the two of you knew that. He was honored to be in on your guys’s little secret. Otherwise, he’d feel cheated out of watching two people he cared about falling in love.

Unfortunately, Ji-yong didn’t get a chance to see you before you were whisked away under the stage to make your entrance. Still, he watched quietly from backstage. He clasped his hands together, watching the crowd scream with anticipation as your intro started. Fog began to cover the stage, the lights flashing every which way with the music. Your dancers surrounded the area you’d rise from. Once you did, you immediately went into the first song, dancing on every note. The crowd was wild. Ji-yong smiled proudly. On stage you were someone else entirely. You were confident, you moved with ease and exact precision. Your body moved with your dancers, most you’ve known for years. Their hands grazing your hips as you all moved together in sync. Ji-yong never got jealous, knowing how these things worked. He was no stranger to any of it.

He’d seen you perform, maybe a hundred times now, and yet it never got old. As the song transitioned to another popular track, the crowd somehow getting even louder, he thought about how you might’ve looked earlier. Standing in the same spot, only a short time ago. He could only assume you looked much like he did now. Body swaying to the familiar music, mouthing the words, eyes sparkling at him like he had hung the moon and the stars only for you. He wasn’t sure what he did to get so lucky.

He clapped as the crowd did. You were at the far end of the stage now, dancing with another male dancer to the third song. The song had been written for him, though not many people knew that other than you and him. A romantically charged song. It was one of his favorites. He remembered the day you showed it to him, all shy and quiet, which was unusual for you. You had told him you had a song to show him, wanting to release it as a single in the future. When you played it, you only stared at his face while he stared at the computer screen. He considered marrying you right there.

As you performed your fourth and final song, he found his way to where you’d end up off stage. He played with his sleeves, smiling shyly as people greeted him as they passed by. He wanted to see you. No, he needed to see you.

And he did. You came off the stage, glistening from glitter and sweat. You hugged your dancers and thanked them, high-fiving other members of your crew. As your eyes met his, he could see them light up. But you stayed put, not wanting to make another scene. He winked at you, moving in the direction of your greenroom.

It took you a couple minutes to get your micpack off and head towards your dressing room to change. Once you did, you smiled wide at the man waiting inside. “We did it!” You beamed as you jumped at him. He caught you easily, swinging you loosely in his arms as you pressed your lips against his. It wasn’t rushed or adrenaline-filled like before. This was softer, still full of energy, but only relief, love, and pure joy. “We fucking nailed it, baby,” You said as you looked up at him. He swore he might die from the way you love him.

“You were beautiful,” He hummed, leaning into your hair. He hummed, squeezing you tighter. “I love you. So fucking much.”

You closed your eyes, taking in the moment as best as you could. There was no place on this planet you loved more than being in his embrace. You could be anywhere, at any time, anything could be happening, and all you’d want is him. That’s all you’d ever need, The lazy mornings in your LA home where you’d surprise him with breakfast in bed. The romantic nights in Seoul where he’d take you out to dinner at your favorite place. The bustling mornings when one of you had a meeting to get to. One of you having a mouth full of toast trying to run out the door, only to scramble back to give the other a kiss. Late nights in studios, falling asleep in random spots as you tried to come up with new lyrics and beats. Your favorites were the quiet nights, the two of you tangled in bed sheets as he stared at each other, talking about whatever came to mind as one of you played with the others hair, or traced shapes on bare skin. Gentle kisses passed back and forth. Life was perfect, and he was perfect.

“I love you, Ji,” You whispered, kissing him again. He hummed into it, smiling. You looked him over appreciatively, fiddling with his outfit. “I need to change, wanna pick my outfit out for me?” You asked, raising a brow. His eyes flicked with mischief as he looked back at the rack of clothes you had. He looked back at you, pulling you back into him again.

#kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #kwon jiyong #gdragon #bigbang x reader #gdragon fanfic #kwon jiyong fanfic #fanfic #x reader #kpop fluff

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iron-sparrow · 1 month ago

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an OC ask list 🪶 in the spirit of celebration

Spring is upon us! What has your OC been up to all winter?

Valentione celebrations have ended. Did your OC have any special sweetheart(s) to share festivities with?

Little Ladies' Day is almost here. Does your OC observe or look forward to any of Etheirys' holidays? 🌸 -> If not, is there any particular reason for this? -> If yes, do they have a favorite holiday? Do tell.

How does your OC feel about all the decorations in the major cities? Do they like the decor or nah?

Not all traditions are tied to holidays, of course. Does your OC have any special traditions they practice?

Oh, and an early/belated Happy Nameday to your OC! Any special plans?

Does your OC usually make the plans or leave the planning to others?

How does your OC feel about surprise parties? 🎉

Does your OC like large gatherings to celebrate with? Did they end up inviting their entire department and extended family (and their co-workers and neighbors and...)

Uh, maybe that's too many people. Would your OC be more comfortable with a significantly smaller affair?

Who is/are a must for your OC to have with them for their most special days?

Your OC is given a gift they don't like/need. How do they react and what do they do with it? 🎁

What kind of gift does your OC like to give? Something store-bought or handmade? (Was it expensive?)

What would be the perfect gift for your OC? Asking for a friend.

Does your OC have a favorite holiday/festival or nameday memory?

Time to make new memories. What would be an ideal holiday/festival or nameday for them be like? No wrong answers!

Many celebrations are connected to seasons, so let's go back to that. Does your OC have a favorite season?

What about a least favorite season? Share with the class.

Okay, I really need to know. Which of the 12 zodiac animals does your OC relate to the most?

Happy Lunar New Year! For many, the snake represents renewal, longevity, and even love! 🐍 May you experience all these joys in 2025 and beyond. hiss hiss

#ask game #wol questions #oc questions #oc asks #oc prompts #my first time making one of these #hope y'all like it (•⩊•)#<- that's me staring until you say “yes”#brain would not let these worms go after a chat today #(Azia why did you let loose the worms)#(thank you Nol & Pigeon for being extra eyes)#also dw about sending me asks 🫰

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kvroomi · 3 months ago

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the twelve days of christmas (kuroo’s ver)

summary: the twelve days leading up to christmas with kuroo and the different ways he shows you his love each time.

listening to: anything - adrienne lenker

tags: kuroo x fem!reader, domestic fluff, minor swearing, reader’s first language is english, reader has hair

author note: IM SO LATE I KNOW, but a massive late merry christmas to all who celebrate! hoping everyone is doing well these winter or summer holidays and spending time with/doing who/what you all love the most. wishing everyone well into this coming new year! may 2025 bring you wealth and good health ❤️‍🩹

i giggled to myself too many times while writing this it’s embarrassing i seriously think this is the cutest thing i’ve ever posted. also just wanted to share that the second i started writing for the final day (day 12), it turned 11:11 and i think that’s a sign

on the first day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—a single christmas ornament personalised with your initials. his fingers held the small box in a way that was both cautious and arrogant—a perfect portrayal of his well-known charm. his frame leaned against the doorway to your apartment, his cheeks flushed from the december cold and the faintest smirk decorating his lips.

you were seated on the couch, your hands curled around a mug of tea. though you loved winter, it just happened to be one of those evenings where the world outside felt grey and cold. you supposed your long day was partly to blame, though you’d almost immediately forgotten about it the second you stepped inside, because there he was; he who was always warm and always golden.

“on the first day of christmas,” he began dramatically, “your loving boyfriend gifted to thee…” trailing off, he held the box aloft like it was the climax of some grand performance.

you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed though very amused. “is it socks? please tell me it’s socks. i feel like i’ve been dropping very unsubtle hints.”

your own interest had piqued just from your rambles alone, your mind unconsciously racking through endless possibilities of what could be in the box. now your body has shifted from casually leaned up on the back of the couch to sitting at the edge, eager to find out what gift awaited you.

“socks?” kuroo scoffed, shutting the door behind him with his foot. “do i look like the kind of guy who gives socks on day one? socks are at least day four material.”

“ah, my mistake.” you purse your lips in apology before taking a sip of your tea and watching as he sat beside you, his knee brushing against yours.

“wait, hold on.there’s more gifts coming?” you whipped your head towards his in realisation.

kuroo smelled faintly of pine. whether from a nearby tree lot or just because he insisted on using a “woodsy” cologne, you couldn’t tell. he simply shrugged sheepishly in response and you gave a wearisome huff.

“alright well… go on then, magician. what’s in the box?”

with a theatrical wave, kuroo opened the lid. inside was a single christmas ornament: shiny and delicate, etched with your initials in exquisite gold lettering. it caught the dim light of your living room and scattered it like tiny stars.

you stared at it for a moment, caught off guard by how sweet it was—intimate, even. it wasn’t that kuroo was incapable of romance. he was, in his own teasing way… but this felt different. it felt a lot more thoughtful.

“an ornament,” you said finally, reaching out to touch it. “wow... this is… weirdly adorable. are you feeling okay?”

“don’t ruin it,” he hushed pretending to be offended, though you could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “i thought we’d start a tradition. every year, one new ornament. you know, build up a collection. by the time we’re old and grey, we’ll have a whole tree full of memories. romantic, right?” he winked playfully.

you blinked, caught between laughter and something warmer and deeper. “that’s actually—wow. that’s disgustingly sweet, tetsu.”

“i’m just full of surprises, babe.” his hand dipped gently into the box and handed you the ornament, fingers lingering against yours. “just don’t get too used to it because tomorrow’s gift is going to be hilariously impractical.”

you turned the ornament over in your hand, the gold initials shining faintly. “okay… i just can’t get over how my initials are way prettier than yours? if this tradition continues, i fear we might need to just skip out on an ornament with your name so the tree stays pretty.”

“pffft, it’s not my fault you’ve got better branding,” he grinned as he draped an arm over your shoulder. “if it makes you feel better, next year i’ll go full kuroo—big and bold. i’m thinking something shiny and impossible to ignore. perhaps an ornament shaped like my face instead?”

you laughed, leaning into him. “i’d hang it front and center, right where everyone could see it.”

his smile softened. “great. that’s where i’d want it to be.”

you stayed like that for a while, his hand tracing slow circles on your shoulder. outside, the world was cold and distant, but thanks to kuroo, it felt like the season itself was bright, and full of beginnings.

on the second day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—two matching christmas mugs lined with photos from your recent photobooth trip. kuroo lied yesterday when he said today’s gift was going to be “hilariously impractical” but he wouldn’t tell you until you found out yourself. the box was suspiciously light when he handed it to you, his grin giving away both everything and nothing at all. he’d ambushed you in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you prepped your nightly tea with a knowing look.

it was day two of his so-called “twelve days of christmas” series, and if yesterday’s ornament hadn’t been both weirdly heartwarming, you might have been more cautious. but this was kuroo—the fun was in the gamble.

“i know you’re dying to see what’s inside,” he urged, the teasing lilt in his voice as familiar as his cologne. “guess. it’s the perfect gift for someone like you.”

“someone like me?” you narrowed your eyes, glancing between him and the box. “what’s that supposed to mean? should i be insulted?”

he placed his chin between his index finger and thumb, thoughtfully. “hmmm… insulted, no. concerned, maybe. thrilled? definitely.”

you scowled at him before turning to open the box slowly, drawing it out just to see him fidget. inside was a white mug—unassuming, plain, even. too plain for kuroo. you turned to him, mug in one hand and the other on your hip.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “a mug. revolutionary. thank you tetsuro for single-handedly redefining the art of gift giving.”

“ah-ah.” he wagged a finger in front of your face, grabbing the mug before you could set it down along with the other mugs in your extensive collection. “this isn’t just a mug. this is a magic mug.”

you blinked. once. twice. and three times before stuttering out a “sorry?”

he sauntered to the kettle, pouring hot water into the cup with the flair of a magician revealing the final act. you watched almost agonisingly slowly, as the heat spread and the surface began to change. the once white mug was now fading to colour. your breath hitched as the image emerged: a photo from your last impulsive photo booth trip.

there you were, mid-laugh with your face tilted toward his. his grin was wide and toothy, hand half-raised as if mid-gesture. the next frame showed your cheeks puffed in anger, while kuroo looked genuinely alarmed with one hand outstretched as if apologizing. and the cherry on top of the final frame? pure love—his chin buried in your shoulder with your hands on either side of his cheeks, squishing his face into something utterly ridiculous.

you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, warm and unfiltered. “oh my god, this is what you chose?”

“what can i say?” he pushed himself back against the counter, watching your reaction with a soft sort of pride. “i’m a sucker for authenticity and you look adorable in that last one.”

“adorable?!” another laugh bubbled from you as you gestured wildly at the cup, now fully transformed. “i look like i’m wrestling you into submission!”

“exactly,” he uttered, completely serious. “it’s very ‘us.’”

half-exasperated, half-melting under the sheer absurdity of it all, you replied. “i’m going to use this in every meeting i have. i’ll be sipping from this in front of clients and coworkers.”

he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “perfect. let the world know you’re stuck with me.”

cue the classic eye roll. the warmth in his voice, the way he let his fingers trace lazy patterns on your arm—it disarmed you, as it always did.

“well,” you pressed a kiss to his jaw, “i guuuueeeesss i do need a mug for tea.”

“that’s the spirit.” he picked up his own matching mug, the photo identical but reversed. “and now, when we’re apart, you can look at me squished like a pancake and remember how much you love me.”

for the third time, you couldn’t help but laugh again, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “you’re ridiculous.”

his voice dipped low as he kissed your temple, “here you are loving me anyway.”

and he was right. of course he was right.

on the third day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—three of his favourite, special, christmas recipes. he arrived at your door with a snow-dusted grin and a peculiar sort of confidence—though that was nothing out of the blue. he held a single envelope; it was a little worn around the edges, with your name scribbled across the front in his messy, self-assured handwriting. no grand box like the past two days, no wrapping paper, and no telltale jingles of something extravagant. all that was held between his fingers was the envelope.

“is this a love letter?” you asked, pulling him inside by the sleeve of his coat to stop the cold from clinging to his cheeks. his cheeks were a warm shade of pink and had you had stared at them any longer than you already had, you would’ve kept him outside just so you could stare at how soft he looked for even longer. “because i gotta say, day three seems a little early for declarations of undying devotion.”

“ha ha, not a love letter,” he responded sarcastically, toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his coat. he stood in the middle of your walkway with his hands on his hips, watching you with that unshakable kuroo observation. “though if you want one i could probably draft something up. i’d write about your eyes, your laugh, and the way you snore when you’re—”

a single flick to his forehead to stop him before he could finish, and he lets out a laugh, all mischief and charm.

“okaaay, what’s in the envelope, then?” you asked, shaking it lightly as you moved toward the kitchen. naturally, kuroo followed like he belonged in your space.

“three gifts in one,” he announces, tapping the counter. “an entrée, a main course, and a dessert—recipes straight from the kuroo tetsuro vault of holiday magic.”

you nodded, taking in what he said and ending it with a shrug. “the kuroo tetsuro vault of holiday magic? huh, sounds legit.”

“oh, it’s legit,” kuroo leaned in slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “these are the recipes that made my grandma call me her favourite. this—” he jabs at the envelope in your hand before continuing, “—holds recipes my teammates still beg me to make whenever i’m back home. they’re recipes that are, dare i say, iconic.”

you opened the envelope, pulling out three sheets of paper each written in his handwriting, complete with small drawings in the margins.

as your fingers traced the edges of the paper, the room shifted. the glow of the kitchen lights softened, the air thick with something quiet and familiar. you’d awaited a playful gesture—a joke gift wrapped in kuroo’s usual brand of teasing. perhaps something loud and irreverent to match the way he filled a room, but this? this was different.

the ink on the pages flowed sweetly from one side to the other—slightly smudged in places. you knew it spoke of hours spent leaning over a counter, a pen in his hand and you in his mind. each word carried a history with memories of family kitchens—laughter echoing through the years, a tradition he was choosing to share with you. it was so intimate in a way that pressed against the deepest crevices of your heart, unexpected and unspoken. it was like being handed the key to a door you hadn’t realized you’d been standing in front of.

all you could do was glance up at him, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a breath you hadn’t yet let go. “this feels… so personal,” was all you could squeeze out, quieter than you meant to.

kuroo who was against the counter, watched with an expression that was almost unreadable, his usual smirk replaced with a smile. “it is,” was all he said, and the weight of those words settled over you like snow on the branches outside.

it wasn’t just recipes. it wasn’t just a gift. it was a glimpse into the places he didn’t offer easily to the world—the spaces he reserved for family, for love, for you. the realisation unfurled slowly like the first bloom of warmth on a winter morning.

“hey,” he murmured whilst stepping closer, his hand brushing against yours as he gently laid the pages down onto the kitchen counter. “don’t overthink it. i just wanted to give you something real. something that… feels like home.”

you glanced down at the pages. the first was for an appetizer: roasted chestnut and butternut squash soup. there were notes about how the squash needed to be caramelised just right, along with a drawing of a smiling chestnut wearing a christmas hat.

the second was the main dish: honey-glazed ham with a cranberry-orange reduction. beneath the instructions he’d written, ‘if this doesn’t make you swoon, i’m giving up on holidays forever.’

the third was dessert, of course. written in black ink was his family’s secret recipe for gingerbread cookies with notes on how to make them crispy on the edges but soft in the middle. there was a poorly sketched gingerbread man doing a backflip in the corner.

“tetsuro,” you whispered reading through them, the thoughtfulness sinking in. “these are actually amazing.”

“of course they are,” he responds, moving to stand behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder as he peered at the recipes. “but they’re not just recipes. they’re invitations.”

“invitations?”

he tilted his head slightly, his hair brushing against your cheek. “to make them. together. think of it as a bonding exercise. or a relationship test. can we survive one kitchen, one oven, and three recipes without a holiday meltdown? high stakes, i know.”

now you really couldn’t hold back the laugh. folding the papers back into the envelope you continued, “so, what happens if we pass this ‘test’? what’s the reward?”

he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, his voice warm and teasing. “you get to keep me, obviously. and maybe some awesome leftovers.”

you turn to face him, envelope in hand. your chest settles with the same feeling of warmth that had nothing to do with the kitchen. “you know,” you lean in slightly, “for a guy who smuggles his personality in through bad puns and bad jokes, you’re actually kind of romantic.”

“kind of?” he echoed, feigning offense. “i just handed you the culinary equivalent of my heart, and i get “kind of” romantic?”

you kissed him, cutting off his fake tirade. your hands find their way to his collar and when you pulled back, his grin was smug but softer, like he’d just won something only the two of you could understand.

“now, which recipe do we ruin first?”

on the fourth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—four candles, each paired with a scent from a particular memory you had through every season that year. the snow on his shoes had melted into slush by the time kuroo had arrived home from work, boots squeaking on the wooden floors as he entered your apartment. dropping his scarf onto your chair and his coat on another, he finally let himself fall on the armrest of your couch. low and behold, balancing on his leg was yet another box, significantly larger that the past two he had gifted you already.

“are you here to redecorate or ruin our furniture?” you asked, looking up from your laptop as you glared at the wet spots forming around your couch.

“i bring gifts,” he announced proudly like a dramatic oracle. “four of them, actually. one for every season.”

you hummed. “wait! let me guess, a pinecone for winter, a seashell for summer, a pile of wet leaves for autumn—”

“wow. you really have not been giving me any credit, even after yesterday’s absolute banger of a gift!” kuroo interrupted while you snorted next to him, watching as he scooted closer to you on the couch and handed you the box. “this, my love, is the culmination of hours of research, consideration, and—you’ll be surprised to hear—minimal swearing.”

you sat up intrigued, raising an eyebrow and peeled the lid off. nestled inside were four candles, each carefully labeled with a card on top in his handwriting which had looked like it had been scrawled by a caffeinated bird—you found it so endearing

“spring: cherry blossoms and rain-soaked pavement,” you read aloud, pulling the first candle out.

“‘cause of the park!” kuroo winked at you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “y’know, when we tried to have a picnic but you spent half the time yelling at me to stop stepping in the puddles?”

“tried is the keyword there,” you retorted wittily, though your lips curved into a frown at the memory. “and you splashed mud on my shoes.”

“you mean i decorated your shoes,” he shot back without missing a beat.

the summer candle came next, and the scent of salty air and something faintly fruity filled your nostrils. you froze.

“the beach,” it was such a distinct memory for both you and kuroo, “the one with the frisbee game…”

“where i heroically rescued it from that evil seagull,” he finished, and when you looked up towards him, his grin was unapologetic.

“you ate shit running away afterwards.”

“unnecessary details, babe,” he shook his head, waving a dismissive hand.

autumn smelled like spiced cider and faint traces of smoke, the memory wrapped around you like a worn flannel—cool nights, warm hands, and kuroo pointing at the sky with wild confidence as he made up constellations.

“that one’s kuroo’s cluster,” he’d sleepily said that night, pointing to a random spot in the sky. “because it looks like it forgot what it was doing halfway through.”

that candle earned a spot on the coffee table.

finally, winter. the label read ‘evergreen and vanilla latte’ and as soon as the wick was lit, the room was filled with something achingly familiar. the scent of him—of mornings spent curled up together with his laughter spilling into your coffee like the easiest thing in the world.

you didn’t speak for a moment; you didn’t trust your voice. instead, you reached for the winter candle again, holding it like it might explain something to you if you focused hard enough.

“i thought they might be nice to have around,” kuroo added, his tone quieter now as he watched you with that expression he wore when he thought you weren’t paying attention. “like, if i’m not here or something. you’d still… have the moments. or the scents. or—okay, i’m bad at explaining this.”

“you’re not,” this time you were the one to interrupt him—though your voice betrayed you, cracking slightly at the edges.

his grin usual returned, soft and crooked. “you’re not gonna cry, are you? i don’t have tissues on me.”

you snorted, swiping at your eyes before any tears could fall. “i’m just impressed. you managed to make yet another gift that’s thoughtful and functional. what’s next? a calendar with all the dates we’ve argued circled in red?”

“now there’s an idea,” he laughed—big, loud, and very kuroo. resting an arm along the back of the couch, he sighs. “but that’s for next year. for now, you just get the candles. and me, obviously.”

“ how lucky i am,” you mocked, though when he leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours, the words fell into the warm silence between you.

“you are, actually,” his voice was low and teasing, “because i really am as great as i smell.”

for once, you didn’t argue.

on the fifth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—five flowers all wrapped up in a bouquet he designed himself. it was just after sundown when kuroo was unlocking the door and stepping inside of your home. the paper he held was crinkled in his grip while the flowers peeked out at odd angles, a mix of bold colors and delicate whites. you cocked a brow at him, eyes wandering and questioning

“is this day five?” you gestured to the bouquet. “don’t get me wrong, i’m so grateful… but what’s the theme here, tetsuro? did you run out of budget or is this an act of minimalism?”

his grin was slow and easy, the kind that always seemed to have a secret tucked behind it. you learned to accept it. he laughed, stepping past you and into your apartment, leaving the cold trailing behind. “i may have argued with the florist over ribbon choices—but that’s besides the point.”

“wha—” he handed you the bouquet with a seductive wink. as you took it, you noticed the odd composition—a single red tulip, a deep purple iris, a white daisy, a bright yellow sunflower, and a pale pink rose.

“five flowers for five things,” stepping back to watch your expression, he continued, “each one is for something i love about you.”

and just when you thought it wasn’t possible for kuroo to surprise you anymore than he already did, you were proven wrong again. stilling, you let yourself feel the weight of his words as they settled into tge tips of your fingers. “you made this?”

“mmm, well i designed it,” he corrected, the smugness now tempered by something a little more humble. “technically i only arranged it. poured my soul into it though. the tulip’s for how bold you are. you’ve got this way of standing out even when you think you’re blending in. it’s infuriating, honestly.”

you ran your fingers over the tulip’s petals, and his voice softened as he pointed to the next.

“the iris is for how much smarter you are than me.” there was no bite in his tone. “don’t get a big head about it, i still beat you at trivia night last month.” you opened your mouth to protest, but he was already moving on.

“the daisy? for how annoyingly kind you are. to me, to strangers, to stray cats in alleyways. you make everyone feel like they matter.”

your throat tightened as his fingers brushed over the edge of the sunflower.

“this one’s for how much light you bring into my life. it’s cheesy as hell, trust me i know, but…” all he offered was a shrug, his grin faltering for a split moment. “i mean it.”

he hadn’t looked up at you yet, still in a dream state as he gazed at the last flower. pausing at the rose, his hand dropped back to his side. his pitch lower, more intimate, when he said, “and the rose is for how much i love you. no explanation needed for that one.”

the only sound you could hear was the faint of the bouquet as you shifted it in your hands. for a moment, all the teasing and the wit and the usual sharpness between you dissolved into something quieter—something raw and real.

“tetsu,” you said softly, but you couldn’t find the words to follow.

if there was one thing you loved more than his gifts, it was his dorky lopsided grin. “i told myself i wouldn’t get all sappy,” he scratched the back of his neck. “but you know how i get around flowers. turns me into a total poet.”

“not a very good one,” if there was one thing you could manage while holding back tears, it was witty retorts to kuroo’s words.

“yikes,” he feigned hurt, but his smile didn’t falter. “so, do you like it? orrrr should i just stick to chocolates next year?”

you looked down at the bouquet. gazing at every colour, at the thought he’d put into every flower, every scent, every message hidden in their petals—your heart ached with the weight of it.

“i love it,” you whimpered, your voice trembling just enough for him to catch it. “i love you.”

his smile softened, his hand reaching up to brush a stray hair from your face. “good,” his voice was warm. “because i’ve got seven more days of this, and i’m not letting you return a single gift.”

on the sixth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—six different ways to say “i love you” in different languages. kuroo waltzed into your living room on the sixth day of his increasingly elaborate holiday gifting holding a small stack of cue cards in one hand and an overly confident grin on his face.

“alright,” he began, dropping onto the couch beside you, “today’s gift is educational: a little bit of culture, a little bit of romance.”

setting your mug of tea down in interest, you were skeptical—like always. “if this ends with me being serenaded in bad french, i’m locking you out.”

he loudly gasped in offense, clutching the cue cards to his chest. “excuse me? my french is impeccable.”

“your french is embarrassing.”

ignoring you, he flipped the first card toward you, reading it aloud. in his handwriting were the words, je t’aime.

“see? classic,” his accent was questionable at best. “it’s romantic, it’s timeless. and you can’t deny that it sounds a little better than just ‘i love you.’”

“except when you say it like that,” you teased.

he pretends to be unfazed, choking back a laugh and your playful jab. he revealed the next card: ich liebe dich.

“this one’s german. it’s efficient and to the point like a well-engineered car,” he said, adding a dramatic comparison. “say it back. come on. ich liebe dich.”

“i’m not repeating that.”

“coward,” he muttered, flipping to the third card: ti amo.

“now, this one is for when i’m feeding you pasta,” he gestures extravagantly. “picture it: candlelit dinner, spaghetti, me leaning over the table like i’m straight out of an old Italian film. “ti amo.”.”

you snorted. “more like you spilling marinara sauce on your shirt.”

“uncultured,” he sighed, shaking his head.

the next card read, saranghae. he held it up with a bit more reverence.

“this one’s korean,” he explained. “it’s sweet, right? got a nice rhythm. saranghae.” there was a pause, almost in quiet contemplation, before kuroo then added slyly, “you’re swooning right now, i can tell.”

“oh, absolutely. weak in the knees,” you said straight faced.

“perfect. that’s the goal.”

the fifth card: te quiero.

“spanish. it means ‘i love you,’ but it’s also like, ‘i care about you.’ multifaceted. practical and emotional,” he said, tapping his temple like it was a genius move.

you smiled, “are you planning to take me on a multilingual tour of love, or are we stopping here?”

“patience, my love,” and kuroo flipped to the final card. aloha wau iā ʻoe.

“that’s hawaiian,” he said, his tone softer now. “it’s not just ‘i love you.’ it’s… bigger than that. like, ‘i carry you with me.’”

he grinned, setting the cards aside. “see? i’m not just a pretty face.”

“you’re insane,” you shook your head, your voice betraying the warmth blooming in your chest and the small smile that lingered across your lips.

“and yet,” he teased, leaning closer, “you’re still here. must be the german.”

“definitely not.”

on the seventh day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—seven handmade coupons for morning coffees made by yours truly, (kuroo). you woke up to the sound of him humming in the kitchen, the smell of coffee curling through the air and gently rolling you awake. when you stumbled into the room (still half-asleep), he greeted you with a little stack of paper slips tied together with string.

“good morning, sleeping beauty,” he pushed a warm cup of coffee into your hands. “your seventh gift awaits.”

you squinted at him and then at the handmade coupons he held out. each one had “one homemade morning coffee” written across it.

“coupons?” you questioned flatly.

“not just coupons,” he quickly answered, moving to send a flick to your forehead. “these are artisanal. limited edition. handcrafted with love.”

“they look like they were crafted by a toddler.”

“ouch,” he whined, clutching his chest as though wounded. “but fine, let’s break it down. seven coffees for each day of the week, exactly how you like them. frothy milk, not too hot. just a dash of cinnamon, because i know you pretend not to like it but secretly, you love it.”

he had read you to filth. “and what happens after i use up all seven?”

“oh, you’ll be addicted by then,” he replied with a charismatic wink. “i’m just playing the long game.”

toying with the crumpled paper and inspecting them more closely, you notice one of them had an additional note scribbled in the corner: bonus: i’ll even let you take the last sip of my coffee ;)

you shook your head in disbelief. this was so unlike kuroo. with furrowed brows, you turned to him, “you hate sharing coffee.”

“uh, correction: i hate sharing coffee with other people. with you, it’s an act of love.”

“and when can i actually make good with these?” you asked, tucking the coupons into your pocket.

“whenever you demand it,” he bowed, “i’m at your service always—currently a barista for hire. oh but i must say, full disclosure, my latte art is limited to blobs.”

“blobs?”

“abstract hearts,” he clarified with a grin. “call it modern—trendy, if you will”

kuroo’s coffee was as much of an experience as it was a drink. the surface of the latte was crowned with an ambitious attempt at foam art—what could generously be described as a heart. a faint dusting of cinnamon kissed the frothy top, swirling faintly as the steam rose.

it definitely wasn’t perfect, but it was him—warm, unpolished, and just a little disordered. you could already imagine it in your head, the endearing way he would’ve tilted his head, squinting at the cup like an artist critiquing his own masterpiece.

you laughed, shaking your head at the thought. kuroo must’ve thought you were laughing at his response because he was quick to be defensive.

“hey, all hearts are beautiful,” his arms were sternly crossed against his chest as he stared down at you. “besides, you drink it—not frame it.”

so with a nod, you sipped the coffee in your hands. to no one’s surprise—he’d made it perfectly, nailing everything down to the faint sprinkle of cinnamon you always pretended not to want.

“okay,” you clapped both your hands together enthusiastically, setting the mug down and pushing all the coupons into your pocket. “you’re on the clock for the rest of the week. let’s see if you can actually make seven cups as good as this one.”

kuroo smirked, holding the cup up like it was his greatest triumph. “challenge accepted. but don’t get used to this level of service. i’m not planning on opening a café any time soon.”

you feigned a groan of anguish, already mourning the image you had of him in an apron with his name embroidered across the front in your head.

“oh, you’re definitely opening a café,” you teased. “i’m making it my eighth gift request.”

“dream big, babe,” he laughed, sending a pinch to your cheek before walking towards to living room. “for now, enjoy the best coffee in town, made by the best boyfriend in the world.”

it was silly and over-the-top. yet, as you watched him carefully pour milk into another mug for himself, you couldn’t help but smile into your own coffee; there might be something dangerously romantic about a man who knows your drink order better than you do.

on the eighth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—eight slices of your favourite pizza. the pizza box was waiting for you on the counter unwrapped. the unmistakable aroma of your favorite pizza in the air—an irresistible invitation. kuroo, sitting at the dining table, watched you approach it with an excited smile.

“eight slices,” he gestured grandly as he stood up, both hands present the box to you. “one for each day of christmas so far. thoughtful, isn’t it?” he pretended to flick back a long piece of hair in an attempt of confidence.

“you know i’ll eat this entire thing in one sitting,” you felt like you could cry from happiness, already reaching for the lid.

“exactly.” he tapped his temple. “a gift that vanishes is a gift you can’t overthink. i’m saving you from existential dread.”

you laughed, thanking him as you opened the box. there it was: your favorite pizza, glistening like a treasure chest filled with molten gold and perfectly crisp toppings. the ultimate kicker? each slice had been marked with a sharpie inside the box.

“tetsuro… what are these labels?”

“guided eating,” he straightened up.

sure enough, written beside each slice in his looping handwriting were notes:

slice 1: for courage, because braving multiple years with me deserves a medal.

slice 2: for patience, because i’m pretty sure i’m still not folding the laundry right and you fix it every time without any complaint.

slice 3: for joy, because watching you smile is better than any christmas lights.

slice 4: for forgiveness (in advance), for what i might say during monopoly later.

slice 5: for luck, because you’ll need it to beat me at monopoly later.

slice 6: for love, because i can’t put that in words so i’ll give you pizza.

slice 7: for adventure, in case you want to try pineapple on your pizza next time.

slice 8: for tomorrow, unless you eat this one too. which honestly, i think you should.

you couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or throttle him for being such an over-the-top sap.

“this is such an odd gift, tetsu!,” you couldn’t stop laughing, though your eyes stung and your chest ached in that intimate, tender way he always managed to conjure.

“oddly perfect?” he sheepishly replied, grabbing a slice and handing it to you. “come on. start with courage.”

immediately you took a bite and sighed. it was exactly as good as you remembered. somehow knowing he’d gone through the trouble of this strange display made it even better.

“you’re quite weird,” you said, wiping your lips with a napkin.

“oh come on, you love me,” he bumped his hip with yours.

you glanced at the box and then at him. you thought about how much of yourself he’d somehow folded into this simple, silly gift—your personality and your habits.

“i do,” you admitted, because how could you not?

as you grabbed the next slice: patience—you decided that eight slices of pizza might just be the most romantic thing you’d ever been given.

on the ninth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—nine random, sweet text messages that pop up randomly throughout the day. the first one buzzed into your phone just as you were pulling on your coat, the frosted morning sunlight bleeding through the blinds.

tetsu: on the 9th day of christmas my true love gave 2 me

tetsu: one notification 2 make u smile.

tetsu: good morning, 2 my favourite person ever.

it was simple and playful—and it did its job. you did smile. giddily tugging your scarf tighter against the chill, you headed out the door.

the second one came while you were waiting for your coffee, a notification cutting through the quiet of the café.

tetsu: if i were a latte, i’d want 2 b the one in ur hand rn

tetsu: u always pick the good ones

you almost rolled your eyes but found yourself chuckling into your sleeve. he had a knack for being perfectly timed and charming simultaneously.

by the third, you realised this wasn’t a coincidence. he was going to send you nine, sweet, little messages throughout today.

tetsu: just saw a dog wearing a little sweater and thought of u

tetsu: not sure why

tetsu: both equally adorable.

it hit your phone as you walked past a store display of knitted scarves, the kind you knew he’d wrinkle his nose at and insist were “over-engineered neck warmers.” you texted back a sarcastic ‘wow, smooth’ and almost swore you could hear his laughter from wherever he was.

the fourth through sixth arrived like little spoonfuls of sugar in your coffee, scattered throughout your day.

#4 tetsu: if i told u i missed u, would u roll ur eyes or tell me 2 hurry home?

tetsu: asking 4 science

#5 tetsu: totally random fact

tetsu: u’re the best person i know

tetsu: not random enough?

tetsu: fine. penguins have knees

#6 tetsu: it’s scientifically proven that texting u makes me 87% happier

tetsu: i just ran the numbers

by the seventh text, you were incredibly flustered. not because they were overly romantic (he always balanced it with his wit), but because they were clever, thoughtful, and wholly attuned to you in a way that felt almost unfair.

the eighth came as you were locking up for the evening, fumbling with your keys.

tetsu: i’d offer 2 carry the world for u but u’re doing a pretty good job carrying it urself

tetsu: don’t work 2 hard

it was such a simple set of words, but it hit you in a way none of the others had. its tenderness slipped through your defenses. naturally, you stopped—fingers tightening around your phone wondering how someone could make you feel so seen from miles away.

the ninth and final message arrived when you were home. you were peeling off your layers and finally sinking into the couch when you felt the vibration in your pant pocket.

tetsu: if love was measured in words then nine texts wouldn’t come close

tetsu: but hey, it’s a start

tetsu: c u soon

the doorbell rang almost immediately after and you couldn’t help but giggle as you opened it to find him standing there with snow in his hair, a grin on his face, and two cardboard cups of steaming hot chocolate in his hands.

“nine texts weren’t enough,” he said with a shrug. “thought i’d deliver the tenth in person.”

you let him in with a kiss. still laughing, you decided that no matter how odd or cheesy his efforts were, you wouldn’t choose to have him any other way.

on the tenth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—ten silly little drawings of you. the tenth day of christmas came as quickly as the past couple days had. after dinner had been packed away—dishes done and table cleaned, you and kuroo sat across each other at the dinner table with bowls of ice cream in front of you. it was then that from under the table, kuroo pulled out and handed you a mismatched stack of papers tied together with a velvet ribbon that looked suspiciously too elegant for something he’d own. you gave him a look, one eyebrow arched. “did you steal this ribbon from one of my gifts?”

“i repurposed it!” he defended, nudging the stack closer to you from across the table with his spoon and air of mock grandeur. “quick! my magnum opus awaits.”

you untied the ribbon, and the first thing you saw was a piece of cardboard with what appeared to be a stick figure rendition of you sitting cross-legged on a couch. above it were the words, “my muse, lost in thought (translation: watching trashy reality tv)”.

“what the—?” you interrupted yourself trying to suppress a laugh as you turned to the next page. a receipt from your local grocery store confused you, but once you flipped to the back, you saw it. kuroo had sketched a profile view of you mid-yawn, the exaggerated swoop of your hair curling over your head like a wave.

“it’s art, obviously,” he chuckled, leaning over your shoulder to get a closer look. “it’s called ‘ten views of my love in her natural habitat.’”

“oh my god, you’re impossible,” there was a familiar warmth growing in your chest—one you had been feeling every day this week.

you flipped through the rest:

a coffee sleeve: sketched was you, deep in concentration with a mug in your hand, sitting on the couch with the caption, “she said she wasn’t a morning person, but look at her with that coffee. magnificent.”

the back of a to-do list: sketched was you, mid-argument with your stick-figure arms dramatically flailing with the caption, “terrorising me because i forgot to do the laundry (but she’s right).”

a post-it note: sketched was you, reading a book with the words “too pretty to be distracted” written at the top in kuroo’s terrible handwriting.

by the sixth drawing, it was on the back of an old takeout menu—you stopped trying to hide your grin. “you’re actually pretty talented, you know that?”

“ridiculously talented,” he grinned back. “and ridiculously smitten.”

the seventh was your face, exaggerated into cartoonish proportions and drawn on a torn piece of fabric. the caption read, “she said i couldn’t draw so i gave her big eyes. now she’s anime”

by the time you reached the tenth which was a hasty sketch of your hand holding his, drawn on a napkin from your favourite restaurant—you felt the laugh catch in your throat. beneath the image, he’d written: “a masterpiece: her, letting me love her.”

“it’s dumb, i know,” kuroo slowly started, suddenly shy and scratching the back of his neck. “but i seriously couldn’t help it. i see you everywhere—on receipts, on napkins, in coffee sleeves. you’re just…always there.”

“it’s not dumb,” you said quietly, holding the napkin like it was something precious.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

you leaned into the chair, kuroo’s head resting atop your own and the stack of silly little drawings sitting in your lap as you went through everything again—your ice creams long forgotten as they melted under the light of the kitchen.

on the eleventh day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—eleven “i’ll do it” moments. he appeared in your doorway that saturday morning, sleeves rolled up and hair a little disheveled. there was an air of martyrdom with his presence so exaggerated you almost thought violins were to start playing.

“i’ll do it,” he announced, almost parallel to delivering the opening line of a shakespearean tragedy.

you looked up from your laptop, alarmed “do what?”

“whatever it is! dishes, laundry, taking out the trash, assembling that ridiculously complicated shelf you bought because it “might come in handy.” ” he punctuated the last word with air quotes, tone laced with theatrical suffering. “today, i am your humble servant. point, and i’ll fix.”

you guessed your skepticism must have obviously plastered over your face because he was quick to add, “no catch, promise.” he held his pinky finger up, “it’s my eleventh gift to you—eleven ‘i’ll do it’s.’”

leaning back with your arms crossed, you gently nudged your laptop aside. “this feels suspicious.”

“suspiciously romantic,” strolling into the room and perching on the end of your bed, he continued. “think about it. eleven acts of selfless service—that’s love language gold.”

“this feels morally wrong,” you both laughed.

kuroo stood abruptly, gesturing to the room like he was on a game show. “okay, quick demo. that pile of laundry in the corner? i’ll fold it. the trash bag sitting by the door? out it goes. oh! and because i’m feeling generous…” he paused dramatically, turning to you with a grin. “…i’ll even organize the pantry.”

you swear your jaw dropped so hard it hit the ground. “no… the pantry? seriously?”

“the pantry,” he repeated solemnly much like a knight vowing to slay a dragon. “i know how much it bothers you when the bowls in there aren’t lined up in order of size. don’t think i haven’t noticed.”

you felt equal parts amused and touched as he grabbed the laundry basket and made good on his first “i’ll do it.” kuroo knew you well enough to know that you’d recognise this wasn’t just about chores. he knew you knew that was his way of showing you he saw all the little things—your frustration at the overflowing trash, or your quiet sigh when you couldn’t find your favourite tea.

by the time he had reached the third task which happened to be untangling the mess of cords behind the tv—you were leaning against the doorway, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“you know,” you began quietly, “you could’ve just gotten me something easy… like socks.”

“i know i said socks were day four material, but they don’t say ‘i love you,’” he didn’t look up as he wrestled with a particularly stubborn cord. “this does.”

and somehow, amidst the clatter of pots being reorganized and the triumphant “got it!” when he finally untangled the cords—you felt a quiet, glowing gratitude. love wasn’t always grand gestures or elaborate gifts. sometimes it was just someone rolling up their sleeves and saying, “i’ll do it.”

on the twelfth day of christmas, kuroo gave to you:

—ten handwritten love letters, a diamond ring, and a promise of an eternity together. you were both walking home from a dinner out, the snow nipping at your nose in the late night. kuroo had insisted you both went for a stroll around your local park before returning home. as you both sat on a bench under a lamppost to take in the coldness of night, he handed you an envelope so unassuming that for a brief moment, you thought he might’ve brought you a pack of gum. the paper was a little wrinkled, and the whole thing seemed as if it had been wrapped in a rush. yet like all his other gifts, it was unmistakably kuroo—disorderly in execution and precise in intention.

he stood up and rocking on his heels, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets nervously. “open it.”

you cocked your head at him, confused and caught off guard by his sudden change in behaviour. “you’re really leaning into this whole romantic streak, huh?”

“leaning into it?” pitch rising as he parroted, mock offended. “i practically invented romance.”

“pfft—” you snorted, “—and humility, clearly.”

and then he was back as quickly as he was gone, grinning sharp and bright. though there was something else beneath it—a quiet flicker of nerves, but it was small enough for you to dismiss it. it was strange the way he wasn’t rushing you or teasing like he usually did. but you tugged the envelope open all the same, your hands suddenly clammy as you unfolded the paper and lifted the top open.

inside nestled neatly were folded sheets of paper. you could tell that one was numbered, the familiar slope of his handwriting filling the margins in messy loops. you tilted your head.

“love letters,” he replied, as if reading your thoughts.

“love letters?” you repeated it like it was a foreign concept.

there it was, that familiar feeling of your chest tightening as you pulled out the first letter. the paper felt heavier than it should have—like it was carrying the weight of something unspoken. you unfolded it carefully, your eyes scanning the page.

the first letter was a story written in his usual casual, boyish tone. it recounted the first time he realised he was in love with you. not in some grand, sweeping moment but in the tranquil stillness of a rainy afternoon 4 years ago when you’d fallen asleep on his grandma’s couch, clutching a bowl of popcorn like it was a lifeline.

the second letter was an apology for the moments he’d been too stubborn or too sharp-tongued—for every time he made you feel anything less than adored.

the third unraveled you entirely.

“if I could give you my eyes for a day, you’d see the world exactly as it is. beautiful, messy—and always better when you’re in it.”

you swallowed hard and set the letter aside. each one felt like a little piece of him, stitched together in ways he rarely allowed himself to be seen. by the time you reached the ninth letter, you were dizzy from it all, vision blurry and nose running.

the ninth letter was the shortest, just two words in his handwriting, “almost there.”

the tenth letter you found written inside the envelope, barely visible unless you were looking for it. it read:

“you’ve always had this way of holding the universe together without even realizing it. let me hold something for you in return.”

you hesitated upon finishing, fingers brushing the edge of the paper and heart thundering in your chest. looking up, you were confused when kuroo was not standing in front of you. it was then that you felt it, the feeling of knowing something impossibly sweet and devastatingly clever was present.

so you turned around, the paper slipping from your hands.

kuroo kneeled there, uncharacteristically still. between his two calloused fingers was an open box, and inside a delicate ring. the usual grin he had was gone now, replaced by something softer and steadier.

“i didn’t write this one,” he confessed quietly, looking away embarrassed. “because i wanted to say it out loud.”

he whispered your name, soft and certain like it was a promise in itself.

and just like that, the world shifted, tilting slightly off its axis as it stopped spinning.

all reblogs and likes appreciated!

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accio-victuuri · 3 months ago

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now it’s time for me to scream and cry about the lrlg post. it’s been so long! and the fact that it came to us in the new year, welcoming 2025 with good vibes! this is the perfect start. even if the conversations are random ( as they usually are ), it’s so comforting to read about. even if just for the sake of fiction. this is fitting cause earlier today, there was a screenshot going around of another celebrity’s assistant and she was using a bjyx related merch (nye show). so it’s either this person is a bxg or they know someone who is and they borrowed the bag. so yeah. we may have people who see and hear things. that was the point of the fake rumors from the start, those who know stuff can share.

which leads us to lrlg. my fave tho is the visibility of yibo’s staff. some are even assigning who’s who based on the nye photo that was shared. this is his inner circle and per the convos, they are also close to xz. to those who are confused, in the original text his staff are assigned different emojis. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

we have talked before about how important it is that their staff is coordinated. i really like how wyb is able to just leave xz with them and he can hold his own. it’s crucial that they can be open to a certain group of people and just be themselves.

• the part about accessories and reimbursement & the latest model didn’t make sense to me when i first read it. but then fans explained it as WYB gave each staff member a latest top-end iPhone (should be 16) and asked them to choose the accessories themselves and all the parts would be reimbursed. wow. such a generous boss! i mean, that’s usual for WYB. can i please apply? lol.

• this part. it’s so sweet i wanna slap them! how xz wouldn’t eat without wyb. it’s such a normal thing to do, but so important for them.

🟢 "Why aren't you eating yet?"

🔴 "It's only five minutes, you should be back in fifteen minutes."

and how yibo was like, why don’t you eat and he joked that it’s different when you are with your family member.

• how he was calling yibo dog because when he fed him his “gloves” were bitten through. how he also called him a pig ( which has it’s own lore ) . lol. they really love to clown each other. but yibo is his puppy tho, gouzaizai! and the fact that xz is feeding him. it’s not enough that xz will wait for him to eat together. he will also hand feed wang yibo. i mean. i hate it here. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

• there was mention of puppy printed pants and some are saying it could be this. well, let’s see who will wear something similar first.

• wyb asking if they ordered fruits, most likely for xz. he knows that xz loves it! he is so attentive!

• i was very interested in what they were eating. a fan said it’s most likely beijing roast duck. and it makes sense why xz had to wash his hands, why he was wrapping the food and feeding it to yibo. making sure they eat well is still a top priority on both sides.

• at the start of the convo, wyb was talking about buying gold jewelry for xz and it’s funny cause fans are saying it’s a fitting gift. we all know xz is the god of money and he is someone that seems to be very aware of finances. so the gift is not only in a romantic sense, but also practical. wyb knows this and it’s why he chose that.

i saw someone say it may be this. the gold is real.

• the part when wyb’s staff said xz is his (wyb’s) boss 😂😂😂😂 it reminded us of that cpn, when wyb’s bodyguards are looking and guarding xz instead of him.

• this ⬇️⬇️⬇️

🟢 "I'll pick you up in the afternoon"

🔴 "No need to worry about what time I'll be back"

🟢 "Call me when you're done"

yibo is so boyfriend i wanna cry. this is such a normal thing to do considering they have all the resources. but yibo still wants to do it himself. yibo the driver is here!!!!!

that’s all. maybe i missed some stuff and we may understand some of these better as the days go by. depending on the other clues that will be available to us in the future. again, you don’t need to believe any of this. don’t take it too seriously. bjyxszd. 💕

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #it’s hilarious that my main motivation to finish work in my time blocks is so i can clown 😂😂😂😂😂#xz and wyb is my motivation

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mysteryshoptls · 1 year ago

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2024-2025 Player Birthday Login Message Lines

These are all the messages that you get from the boys when you log in on the birthday that you set in-game from 18 Mar 2024 to 17 Mar 2025! For those that want to hear them, you can find them in the Archive, under the tab その他　→　監督生バースデー④. (This will not be in your game archives until the birthday you set passes.)

You can find the 2021-2022 Birthday Login Message Lines here! You can find the 2022-2023 Birthday Login Message Lines here! You can find the 2023-2024 Birthday Login Message Lines here!

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. Thanks for always looking out for those two dorm students of mine. Actually, we're planning on hosting a reception this weekend at our dorm. I would like to invite you, as part of your birthday celebration. Heh. My apologies. Looks like that has caused you a little anxiety. No worries, I'll be beside you teaching you the proper manners the whole time.

Ace

Yo, [Yuu]. Happy Birthday― Mmkay, so let's get started on the birthday party. I'm just gonna pop on over to this one restaurant in town and nab some tasty-lookin' stuff! Just chill and wait here at Ramshackle... Hey, c'mon, I ain't tryin' to pull anything over on ya. Sometimes I just want to have a normal celebration too, y'know!

Deuce

[Yuu], Happy Birthday! Let me take you to go buy a prese... Eh? You're saying that I've already given you a present because I fixed the broken lights in Ramshackle the other day...? No way, you don't gotta hold back like that! I want to go all out for my pal's special day. That's what makes me happy.

Cater

[Yuu]-chan, Happy Birthday―☆ Did ya post on Magicam that it's your birthday? Oh, not yet? Then, let Cay-kun here with all his power and wisdom write a post for you! We'll attach a cool photo and some slammin' hashtags... Whaddya think? A perfect gift from me, or what?

Trey

Happy Birthday. So, about your present... I do have one. It's just... I was asking around for what to gift you and in the end, I couldn't really figure out what I should get... So in the end, after being at a loss, I ended up getting you this shirt. I look at it now and wonder what possessed me to pick this pattern... Yeah, I know, it's just laughable.

SAVANACLAW

Leona

Yeah, yeah. Your birthday's come 'round again, hooray. ...What're you doing, setting up a chessboard on the floor like that? You practiced just to win a game against me? Oho, so you're challenging me, then. Look at the pluck on this herbivore. So, what're you willing to bet, then? No way you're gettin' away with just a simple game after throwin' down the gauntlet at me like this.

Jack

So, it's your birthday today. Have you set up any new goals yet? What, you're going to surpass me in our classes? Heh, that's a hilarious joke. You really think you can beat me? But I'll take you on. If you get a better score on our next test, I'll get you some kind of present.

Ruggie

Happy Birthday―! 'N that means, I got you somethin' that's fittin' comin' from an upperclassman like me. Ta-da! A homemade fishing rod～ ...Ah, you totally just thought it's a cheap gift, didn'tcha! But this totally works! I know what it's like to go hungry too, y'know～ You're probably always goin' through things, so if you're ever in a pinch, make sure you use this!

OCTAVINELLE

Azul

A very Happy Birthday to you. Have you thought of a gift you'd like to get for yourself? Please, allow me to procure it for you... ...Oho, you have a keen eye to request something of that caliber. It may be considerably difficult to just anyone to acquire. HOW-EV-ER! If I were to handle it, that is a different situation altogether. I shall definitely make sure to retrieve it for you. Please wait expectantly.

Jade

Happy tidings for your birthday. I do hope this year will be another fruitful year for you. By the way, [Yuu]-san. Have you eaten yet? Oh, not yet, how wonderful. As a matter of fact, I thought I would treat you to something in my own little way. I only offer this with the best of intentions, of course. Fufu.

Floyd

Oh hey, Shrimpy-chan. It's your birthday today, huh. Mmkay, then I'll give you some snacks. I got these strange tastin' gummies, these wicked hard cookies, and some squishy jerky. Awesome, right? I got a ton, but all of them expire today, so. These are my presents to you, so you better eat them all without wastin' any, 'kay?

SCARABIA

Kalim

[Yuu], Happy Birthday! Here's your present, from me to you. Ahaha, did that surprise you? I tried making a pop up birthday card just for you. I also tried making a ton of paper flowers that we use during celebrations back in the Scalding Sands. Don'tcha think they came out real pretty?

Jamil

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. It isn't much, but here's your present. Ramshackle is a fairly old building. I'm sure there are bugs that will find their way in and try to settle down here. However, if you use this, you can rid yourself of all of them in an instant. I can vouch for its effectiveness. Use it as soon as you can.

POMEFIORE

Vil

Happy Birthday, [Yuu]. ...You wish for me to come to your party here, at Ramshackle? And to top it all off, you've prepared a healthy menu just for me... Heh, how considerate of you. Very well. I suppose I can make an appearance out of respect for your enthusiasm. I do hope you're honored that I'll be there to celebrate with you.

Epel

Happy Birthday! I put in a lot of thought picking out a present for you. Here ya go, fingerless gloves! Nice design, right? Makes using your phone a lot easier, too. It'll make you look super cool, and the more you use it, the more comfy it'll feel. I hope you use it tons!

Rook

I've been waiting, Trickster. Waiting, that is, to celebrate your birthday with you. A spectacular day requires a spectacular memory. That is why I've come up with a wonderful plan of my own. First, we watch two back-to-back theater performances, then attend a poetry reading, and finally, watch a movie in the evening. There will be no time to rest. Come, we must quickly fly towards the theater!

IGNIHYDE

Idia

Kk, time to pretend we all get along and celebrate a birthday again... Eep!? D-Did you hear that just now...? Uh, so... Happy B-day, I guess... Soz, I don't have a present for you. Didn't even know it was your birthday... What, you're seriously just happy hearing me wish you a happy b-day? [siiigh] Nah, I'll order something small online and have it shipped to Ramshackle sometime later.

Ortho

Happy Birthday! Here's your present. Go ahead and open it! Hehe, you see what I did? I used a laser to engrave a birthday message on a glass tumbler for you. It was a little difficult fine tuning the power adjustment for the more detailed parts, but it came out pretty good, don't you think? I really hope you like it!

DIASOMNIA

Malleus

Child of Man, I see today is your birthday. ...Hm? What's the matter? You look a tad glum. Ah, I see, you are struggling to carry all your presents. Well, allow me to deliver them to Ramshackle with magic in your stead. No need to protest, this is an effortless task for someone like me. You should enjoy your special day to the utmost.

Silver

Happy Birthday. You're curious about this braided cord? It is your present. Lilia-senpai explained it to me thusly... If a string wrapped around your wrist or ankle snaps off on its own, then your wish will be granted. I strung this cord together in hopes that you may have your wishes come true. It may be a tad ill-shaped, but if it pleases you, it is yours.

Sebek

As I recall, today is your birthday... Hm? You want me to come to your birthday party? What poor semblance of a joke. I don't have the spare time to waltz into some human gathering like... WHAT!? MY LIEGE HIMSELF WILL ALSO BE THERE!? THEN SAY THAT FIRST! For goodness' sake, humans like you are just... so thoroughly thoughtless. Hurry and provide me the location and commencement time!

Lilia

Ooh, nice. So today's your birthday. Just look at how big you're getting. ...Khee hee hee. Don't look so downtrodden. It's just me pretending to be a doting gramps. The other guys in my dorm don't ever let me joke with them like that. And so, I have a present for you. Here, a CD of my performances, specially made! Take this and enjoy my raging screamo music with your whole heart and body.

OTHERS

Crowley and Rollo do not have new lines. Theirs are repeated from last year's.

Grim

Today's your birthday, huh. Happy Birthday to you! ...Huh? Do I got a gift for ya? What're ya even saying? Shouldn't ya be happy enough that you're my number one favorite henchie? Fiiine. Guess I can use my paws to pad you a massage sometime. Wouldn't want to hafta sit in a hard and uncomfy lap, after all!

Crowley

Ta-daaa! What do you suppose this could be? That’s correct, it’s an exchange coupon for use at the Mystery Shop! You have been a consistent helping hand, so… This is a special gift for you. Happy Birthday. Incidentally, that is only worth 500 madol (5 Thaumarks). It cannot be exchanged for something pricier than that. Please don’t hold it against me.

Crewel

It seemed rather rowdy in here, but now I see it was just you, pup. Are you excited simply because its your birthday? I see, well, in that case, I have a special present just for you. As for what it is... It is a special alchemy homework assignment. You should be happy; you'll be able to improve your skills even further with this, don't you think? Haha, Happy Birthday.

Trein

I hear it is your birthday today. Do continue to put forth your best effort in your studies as a student of academia. Allow me to gift you with some words of wisdom instead of a present, as someone who has been on this mortal coil slightly longer than yourself. Merely aging another year does not a mature person make. However, time spent on fruitful endeavors will always be of benefit to your growth.

Rollo

Whatever is the matter, [Yuu]-kun? There is a strange glimmer in your eyes… ...Ah, I see. Today is your birthday. A present? Hmph. I hardly think that it should be something you request of others… But no matter. Indeed, birthdays should be treasured. However, what would be an acceptable gift…? I am afraid I’m rather unaccustomed to this. I would hope I do not disappoint you with a poor gift choice.

Fellow

Oh, my, hello there, my learned scholar! I've been searching, and finally, I've found you! I was fervently hoping to wish you well for your birthday. Here, your present. ...As fellows lacking in magical abilities, we should get along together, don'tcha think? Happy Birthday! Fwahaha!

Requested by Anonymous.

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archiesbestgiftstore · 3 months ago

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https://archiesonline.com/product-category/greeting-cards/new-year-greeting-cards/

Ring in the New Year with heartfelt messages and beautiful designs from Archies! Their collection of New Year greeting cards offers the perfect way to send your best wishes to loved ones. Whether you're looking for a thoughtful, funny, or elegant card, Archies has something to suit every style and sentiment this New Year.

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thequeenofcurses · 1 month ago

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Valentine's Day 2025

summary: How your JJK bf/gf treats you for Valentine’s this year. reader (gender neutral) x jjk characters. multi pairings (SEPERATE) wk: 1.2k

masterlist | jjk masterlist

Nobara would never settle for a boring, cliché date. She’d want to do something cool and stylish, like a high-end shopping spree, a fashion show, or a trendy rooftop bar with fancy cocktails. But deep down, she’s also a romantic. She’d surprise you with a personalized gift, like a charm bracelet with little symbols of your relationship. If you’re into cozy dates, she would plan a spa day together or a cute café hopping adventure (she needs you to try all the new boba flavors!). One thing’s for sure, she’d want pictures of the whole day to post later because you both looked amazing.

“We’re gonna make everyone jealous today. ‘Cause I’m hot, you’re hot, and we’re the ultimate power couple.”

Yuji would want the perfect mix of romance and fun and what better way to do that then just spending the day at home with you! He doesn’t want to do anything fancy. He would order pizza with your favorite toppings on it. He would spend the day gaming with you in the morning, then doing some LARP with your new cosplays in the afternoon. By the evening, you would go back and forth, debating which Human Earthworm film is the best, ultimately agreeing with each other by the end. The night would probably end with you two cuddling, watching a movie under a blanket fort, sharing snacks, and him confessing how much he loves you in the softest, most genuine way.

“I just wanted today to be fun for you, y’know? ‘Cause every day with you is already special for me.”

Megumi isn’t one for grand gestures, but he always pays attention to what makes you happy. He’d take you on a quiet picnic at the beach, under the stars, bringing along your favorite foods. If he knows you like books, he might take you to a cozy bookstore café, or if you enjoy nature, a walk in a peaceful park (with both his cute dogs!). Megumi isn’t much for words, but he makes up for it with small, meaningful actions, like holding your hand, getting you plushies, or even giving you a handwritten letter with all the things he struggles to say out loud.

“…I hope this is okay. I just wanted to spend the day with you.”

Yuta would plan a soft, dreamy date. He’d take you somewhere quiet and beautiful like the beach at sunset or a scenic rooftop with a perfect view of the city lights. He’s a romantic at heart (*cough Rika’s curse cough*), so he’d probably write you a song or a poem (even if he’s nervous about performing it). Expect long, deep conversations, soft hand-holding, and forehead kisses. His gift would be something deeply personal, like a locket with your initials inside or a book filled with handwritten notes about why he loves you.

“I love you more than words can say, but I’ll spend every day trying to show you.” (Just don’t die right after he confesses his love to you or you might be bound to him as a curse forever!)

Toji hates Valentine’s because of all the mushy expectations. Plus, he can’t afford to take you anywhere fancy or a lavish gift anyways. Although, instead of some fancy dinner, he would take you somewhere wild like Dick’s (the restaurant) or an underground fight club. He really loves the adrenaline rush, so your date could also include something exhilarating, like skydiving (if you pay for it), a motorcycle ride along the coast, or a secret, hidden bar where no one knows your name (if there’s no entry fee). His gift would be something personal but practical, like a custom weapon or jewelry with a hidden blade.

“What? You thought I’d buy you flowers? You can’t stab someone with flowers, babe.”

Nanami never misses a beat. Every birthday, every winter holiday, every anniversary, and today is no exception. He’d make reservations at a quiet, fancy restaurant, one with dim lighting, classical music, and impeccable service. He’d order a bottle of fine wine, and the two of you would enjoy deep conversation over a gourmet meal. If he’s feeling extra romantic (we all know he usually is), he might cook for you at home. A delicious candlelit dinner with your favorite music playing in the background. The night would end with a slow dance in the living room with a heartfelt confession about how much you mean to him.

“I don’t need a special occasion to love you, but if today gives me an excuse to show it, I won’t waste it.”

Geto would take you somewhere sophisticated and away from the other monkeys. He’d reserve a private tea house, where the two of you could enjoy the serenity of a beautiful garden. Or he would have the cursed humans in his cult be useful and cook a divine meal and serve you two (the only thing he finds them good for). If you have cursed energy, he would take you to an art exhibit, holding hands, discussing art, and loving his time with you. If you don’t have cursed energy, he’ll take you to the zoo (he makes jokes that you belong with the animals, but he reassures you he’s ‘just kidding’). His words would be poetic, smooth, and laced with meaning, making you feel like you’re the most precious thing in the world, after all of his joking.

“Being with you is the one indulgence I’ll never regret.”

Choso would go out of his way to make the day special and heartfelt. He’s never experienced Valentine’s before, so he wants to do everything he can to make sure he does it right. He’s not great with flashy gestures, but he’d hand make gifts (maybe a handwritten love letter, a scarf that matches his, or a small photo album of your memories together). He’d love to take you to a flower garden. His priority is making sure you feel safe, loved, and appreciated.

“I don’t need anything fancy. Just you.”

Satoru Gojo is not the kind of man to hold back. He would go all out. He’d whisk you away on a surprise getaway, maybe a private helicopter ride over the city or a trip to a luxurious resort. Expect super flashy gifts, teasing banter, and him showing you off to anyone who’ll listen. If you prefer something more lowkey, he’d rent out an entire planetarium or completely rent out that karaoke bar you two love to hang out at. You two would have the rest of the night to stare at the stars (not counting the ones in his eyes every time he looks at you) or sing your hearts out together. Either way, he makes sure you feel like the most special person in the world.

“Only the best for you.”

Sukuna is absolutely not the “flowers and chocolates” type, but if he truly loves you, expect something unexpectedly intense. He might take you to a private onsen (hot spring) deep in the mountains, where the two of you can enjoy the peace and quiet, away from the world. If he’s feeling indulgent, he’d have Uraume cook you two an exotic dinner. He would love to take you to a secluded temple or a rooftop with a breathtaking view. His gifts would be personal, perhaps handcrafted jewelry infused with cursed energy, something that marks you as his.

“Tch. You’re lucky I care for you this much. Brat.”

Should I expand on any of these? Happy Valentine’s day to you all <3

dividers by @omi-resources & @cafekitsune

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verystrxxwberry · 3 months ago

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What do you think each of the boys would like to receive as Christmas gifts?? Love your writing so much!

WHAT WOULD THE MCL, ML AND ELDARYA ROUTES WANT FOR CHRISTMAS

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: My candy love (all routes), eldarya (all routes), ml (all routes), small and individual headcanons. ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: First post of 2025! Happy New Year everyone. I didn’t really know which fandom you meant with this request, but I will include all of them!

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

MY CANDY LOVE

Castiel: He insists in not needing anything (because whatever he needs he immediately buys it), but he might be very excited to get anything related with his guitar. The thing he’d be the most grateful about would be earplugs to protect his ears from the loud volumes of his concerts. He’ll be happy with cheaper things such as cozy blankets, new pajamas or even new slippers or shoes.

Nathaniel: Whatever cat-related makes him as happy as a kid, even a gift for Snowy makes him feel excited. He doesn’t want you to spend much money on him and tiny things are enough. Even handmade things make his heart melt!

Lysander: He might like any gift that makes reference to some inner joke in between you. Handmade gifts are his favorite honestly, he loves ceramic mugs made by you!

Armin: Steam gift cards… any character figurine for his collection, any sweater related to a fandom he is in. He’s a freak, he is easier to gift.

Kentin: On the opposite to Nathaniel, something dog-related. A scarf or a coat might be good for his van trips to some colder places. Something more expensive he could get to enjoy is a smartbox to live a new experience with you, but he doesn’t want you to spend much money. Handmade chocolate cookies are also a great gift for him!!

Rayan: He adores being gifted books and even more if it’s a classic. He will never say no to reading Oscar Wilde, Edgar Allan Poe, Jane Austen, Stephen King or George Orwell. He is opened to other authors and other genres. He might also appreciate new formal clothes for his job or a handmade painting.

Hyun: Cute plushies are his thing, also cool jackets or coats. Warm and cozy socks to be home. Any vanilla scented candle for his bedroom might also work as a great gift. Skincare products are also a great option. He loves to get gifted stuff in boxes, everything together, so it is more exciting to see the amount of gifts he is going to open.

Priya: Candles! She doesn’t have a preference for any scent, as long as it can give a certain smell to her bedroom. She’d also be grateful to receive a new, medium lengthen notebook where she can write her thoughts.

Devon: Massage card, man is stressed. He is such a romantic man and definitely would love to receive a handmade letter from you. Devon likes any tiny detail that comes from you, he doesn’t mind whether you invested money or not, which of course he prefers that you do not invest much.

Jason: There isn’t much this man needs other than genuine affection. Whatever he needs he also buys it almost immediately as he has got the sources to get them. Yet new ties for his uniform are a thing he forgets most of the time. He prefers to get gifted unique things that no one else can have such as handmade stuff or experiences. But really, even something that doesn’t cost much money is good for him since it comes from you. Even if he finds something useless at first, he will find the way to make it useful.

Roy: He’s very easy to gift to because he likes absolutely everything. Something that involves an adventure, food, clothes, skincare, a fitness mat, products to take care of his hair… whatever is enough to make him excited.

Thomas: He makes you a list of gifts in case you need it. He might appreciate a new jacket to wear in his motorcycle, a gift card for one of the local yarn shops, motorcycle gloves, a steam gift card, a warm blanket for naps.

Amanda: A basket of candles, bath bombs and chocolates is perfect for her. She will be grateful with a basket of random teas as well.

ELDARYA

Ezarel: Sweets. Literally anything that is sweet af such as bonbons, cookies, honey, candies. He’d really like to receive ear warmers and a scarf.

Nevra: Your kisses and hugs are the best gifts for him! But if you wish to gift something material, probably a matching necklace (something elegant and not too colorful), the experience of having a romantic dinner with you is also a great gift for him.

Valkyon: A fancy cup for beer nights. A handmade letter, or simply your presence. He doesn’t want you to spend anything for him, and if you do, he hopes it is something for Floppy (a gift for her equals to a gift for him)

Leiftan: He’s gonna cry at any of your gifts, no matter if you bought it or you did it by yourself. He is going to drown in tears. Books, drawings, poems, crotchet figurines… he loves them.

Lance: Gloves for his freezing hands (so you don't freeze when he touches you), a good perfume, pajamas and a kiss :).

Mathieu: He is good with silly little stuff such as plushies, bracelets, necklaces or the dumbest shirts ever (he’s gonna go out with them without any shame). Cute cups, cute plates, anything to decorate his prosthetic leg.

MOONLIGHT LOVERS

Aaron: No matter if he loves his brown shirt too much, he lowkey needs a new one… so a brown sweater, shirt or jacket, it might be pretty useful.

Beliath: Skincare products, a headband, haircare products because bro wants it to glow and be fancy. A bottle of red wine. Affection. Any sex-related stuff, even if it is in a joke, it might be a good gift as well.

Raphael: Books in braille! He knows how hard it is to find them, so it’s a great surprise for him to receive more. And even more if they are from your era, and he can get to know what kind of literature is made nowadays.

Vladimir: A bucket of candles and tea. Books, a bucket of flowers, a new cane that can be elegant or neutral. A letter made by hand, or even a poem.

Ethan: Probably noise-cancelling earbuds for those times when there’s a storm. He’d be pretty glad to receive citrus soaps, a cool leather jacket. Or gift cards for clothing shops.

Ivan: A gift card for Netflix, silly socks!! Or a silly blanket. Gift him food and he will be happy. Or bring him a nice cuddle session! That’s more than good for him.

Neil: He doesn’t follow the tradition of Christmas and won’t understand why is he receiving a gift. Still, he can never say no to some genuine and spontaneous thing coming from you, like you giving him some jewelry, some sweets or even gifting him a book you’d think he’d like. He appreciates handmade stuff but no need to be Christmas to give those gifts.

✰; remember to reblog and like to support my content, I hope you enjoyed it! Happy new year to everyone!

#: ̗̀➛ alex's eldarya hcs!#: ̗̀➛ alex’s mcl hcs!#: ̗̀➛ alex's ml hcs!#eldarya headcanons #moonlight lovers headcanons #my candy love headcanons #my candy love newgen headcanons #mcl hcs #my candy love #mcl newgen #eldarya #moonlight lovers #beemoov

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blouisparadise · 3 months ago

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There are so many amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of December. We’re entering a new year feeling incredibly grateful for the amazing fics we got in 2024, and excited for the many we’ll get in 2025! Happy reading!

1) Whispers Of Warm Love | Mature | 3,075 words

Where Harry is an intelligent student and a little bit shy and doesn't like to party much. One day, pushed by his friends, he decides to go to a party and there he meets the perfect omega for him.

2) Show and Tell | Explicit | 3,104 words

A hot pink butt plug sticks out of his boyfriend's bum. The sight knocks the wind out of Harry. His jaw hangs open. He can hear a pathetic whine coming from his own throat. Why is Louis so fucking cruel? And thank god Harry turned his microphone off. Although he suspects his colleagues know by now what his boyfriend's up to, especially judging by Harry's inability to keep a straight face.

3) Show Your Love For It | Mature | 3,331 words

Louis and Harry fuck desperately and Louis shows him how much he loves it after spending hours holding back their desire.

4) Honk | Mature | 3,721 words

Louis was not a romantic. He never really dreamed of finding his soulmate. Definitely not like this. Never like this. Harry was a romantic. He’d always dreamed of finding his soulmate. Just like this. Exactly like this.

5) I'm All Yours, I've Got No Control | Explicit | 4,391 words

Filled with adrenaline; Harry and Louis get a little desperate after a show. Unable to wait until they're in their hotel room.

6) To Keep My Stocking Filled | Explicit | 4,810 words

A very exhausting day playing Santa at work left Harry to want nothing more than to return home to his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Louis, had her own reason as to why she was excited for him to return back to her.

7) Just Go With It At Christmas | Explicit | 5,152 words

Inspired by the movie "Just Go With It" but this one happens at Christmas and it's omegaverse. Louis pretends to be Harry's ex-wife and they end up admitting their feelings for each other.

8) The Cobbled Streets of You and Me | Mature | 5,256 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 308- Based on a reel where a girl got her stiletto stuck on the drainage rail and a man came to the rescue. Featuring Louis as the cute, carefree omega and Harry as the hot, grumpy alpha who helped.

9) Don't You Wanna Wrap Me Up (And Mistle Touch Under The Tree) | General Audiences | 7,020 words

“Hi! Do you want to join the exchange?” Louis hopes the desperation on his face isn’t as obvious as it feels. “Sorry, uhm, me?” The alpha points a finger at himself while blinking rapidly. “Yeah, you! You look like you would have lots of fun with a Secret Santa exchange,” Louis replies, “Please?” he adds for good measure.

10) You're My Very Own Christmas Love | Explicit | 7,569 words

Harry has to work late at the office on Christmas Eve. Louis surprises him by dressing as an elf. Gifting him a santa hat to wear while he relieves his stress.

11) Restlessness, Snowman Cookies, And A Realisation | Not Rated | 8,090 words

While Louis, Liam, Niall, and Zayn take the kids out for a few hours to some Christmas fair, allowing Harry to have the house to himself for a bit, Harry decides to make some snowman themed Christmas cookies and some chocolate fudge for Louis in an attempt to ward off this odd restless and off feeling he’s been having lately. And he realises a very possible reason as to why he’s been feeling off lately. That has something to do with Louis….

12) Dreamy White Christmas | Mature | 9,099 words

Just Louis having a nice birthday, a lovely Christmas night and all the attention his loved ones could give him. Especially his alpha's.

13) Just Go With It | Mature | 11,216 words

A plastic surgeon convinces his assistant to join him along with his young boyfriend on a trip to Hawaii and pose as his ex-husband to cover up a lie, but he ends up complicating the situation further.

14) Nonsense Christmas | Mature | 13,291 words

A toast to red lipstick, Christmas songs, misunderstandings, casual sex, front seats, and snow.

15) The Purge: A Military Force | Mature | 13,480 words

Louis hates the purge and everything that it represents, he hates the way the government made a carnage using them as simple pieces of a shit game, he hates the way they feel on their games and are killing each other for them to have a show, but he hates, even more, the way his alpha accept it like a follower sheep, he is a Captain on the military and just closed his eyes, that’s way Louis left him, he couldn't be with someone like that. It’s unfortonately that when he’s out on the purge to safe his friend that alpha became his anchor, the only reason he stayed alive.

16) You're My Christmas Wish ᡣ𐭩 | Not Rated | 13,724 words

“Why is it Merry Christmas and not Happy Christmas?” She tilts her hip in confusion. “Oh. That must be my fault.” Harry says immediately, drawing everyone's attention back to him. Louis raises an eyebrow as he sees the man licking his lips, apparently already very satisfied with what he's about to come up with. “For me, my Merry is happiness.” Louis tenses when the alpha takes his gloved hand, the boy in his lap rubs his cheek at the feeling and Louis relaxes then, caressing his cheek. Harry smiles looking down at the children. “Christmas and her are what I love most in the world. So I decided to replace Happy with Merry, the others must have liked it because they started saying it that way too.” Louis blushes the same color as their costumes. When he turns to look at all the children, they are just as delighted as his heart.

17) You'll Never Feel Like You're Alone | Explicit | 15,714 words

Louis is sick, and Harry takes care of him.

18) More At Stake | Mature | 16,987 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Prince Styles of Darthend,” King Andres bowed respectfully, Queen Jo doing the same. Her ruby ring glowing brightly on her finger, back in its rightful place. “I am in your debt. Whatever it is you desire.” For the first time, the cruel prince smirked. Louis let Zayn move him further back in hopes of shielding him. However, his eyes remained fixated on the curly-haired prince. His breath hitched when dark green eyes met his blue ones from across the room. The grip on his shoulder got tighter. “In due time, your majesty.” Prince Styles bowed at the king and queen before he left.

19) Wrapped in Red & White | No Rated | 21,429 words

“It’s very rude not to say hello back,” she scolded, hands planted firmly on her hips like she was running the place. “My mommy taught me that.” Harry stared at the little pup, mouth agape, his grip on the stapler slackening. Was this real? It couldn’t be real. Maybe Jacob had drugged his sandwich earlier because there was no logical reason for a random child to be standing in his office, alone, at 5 PM. “Are… are you real?” he finally managed to ask, brow furrowed in disbelief.

20) Falling In Love | Explicit | 23,984 words

After falling into a spiral of loneliness in Los Angeles, Louis realises he can’t ignore how much he misses Harry. Determined to fight for their love, he heads back to London, hoping it’s not too late to make things right. All he wants is another chance to show Harry how much he truly means to him. After falling hard, it’s time to fall in love.

21) The Thrill of the Chase (Are You Mine?) | Explicit | 29,920 words

Harry leads a search and rescue team who specialise in capturing feral alphas and omegas and returning them to the Feral Recovery Centre so they can be rehabilitated back to their normal lives. The case of feral omega Louis Tomlinson sparks a fight for dominance between Harry's instinctual inner wolf and his rational human mind, the outcome of which flips his life upside down forever.

22) Once Upon A Time | Explicit | 37,079 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Since Louis' mother's death, her book of fairy tales has offered Louis an escape from the tower that he is locked inside for much of the day. However, when his father announces that Louis has been betrothed to the cruel king of a neighboring kingdom, Louis quickly realizes that even the comfort of his fairy tales will not be enough to shield him from the harsh reality of his life. Embarking on a long journey to his new home, Louis is accompanied by his maid and a small group of soldiers, led by Captain Harry Styles. As Louis begins to experience the world beyond his prison and learns more about the people escorting him, he finds himself drawn to the mysterious Captain. But with every step closer to his impending marriage, Louis is forced to confront the life he's being thrust into—and the painful truth that he may never have his happy ending.

23) Show Me Your Soul | Explicit | 53,045 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is an escort trying to survive, never expecting to step into the world of the rich and powerful. When Harry Styles hires him for a week, Louis thinks it’s just a paycheck. But what was supposed to be a simple arrangement turns into something way more complicated than he ever signed up for.

24) This Type Of Love (Give It To Someone Special) | Not Rated | 61,352 words

When Franco Styles recommends him to take a trip to get his head out of his business, Harry decides to listen and spend the end of the year where none of his enemies can find him. He doesn't expect for that decision to have big consequences for his life, but when a blue-eyed man rings the bell of his door, a very talkative florist, he goes down an unexpected path in which love and fear intertwine. How much is he willing to risk for this new connection?

25) The Crow Flies Straight | Explicit | 80,378 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry Styles is the prince of notorious Biker gang Sons of Anarchy in picturesque Charming, California. He's done his best to live a life free of the law and free from attachment. Until a chain of events cause the one person he thought he'd never see again to be dragged back into his life of crime and debauchery. Louis Tomlinson ran away to medical school years ago, because he liked Harry and his danger a little too much.

26) Twinkling Lights, Fated Nights | Explicit | 87,330 words

Louis is an Omega who doesn't like being told what to do and is happy with his single life in the snowy town of Frostbrook after a terrible previous relationship. But then Harry turns up - an Alpha who is anything but the typical macho. Instead of giving commands, he makes an effort to understand Louis, which annoys him more than anything. But Harry doesn't give up. And maybe that's exactly why they fit together so well: Two people who don't fit the cliché at all, but who suddenly feel more for each other than they would have expected. In the midst of lights, snow and mulled wine, something begins to grow that neither of them had planned - even if Louis would rather not admit it. A story about healing, love and finding home in each other.

27) The Boy Saw A Comet | Mature | 98,324 words

Harry and Louis once dated in high school, but their intense breakup left Harry heartbroken. Now, two years into college, Harry notices the new teaching assistant in his class, who resembles the boy he loved four years ago. Will they reignite their relationship or avoid each other completely? Harry's love for Louis remains unchanged, but he is unsure of Louis's feelings.

28) Fuck Destiny and Fuck You | Teen & Up | 106,550 words

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson were born into two of the wealthiest families in London. Despite their privileged upbringing, they couldn't be more different. Louis was a hopeless romantic who believed in soulmates and destiny. Harry, on the other hand, was a realist who rejected the idea of fate and preferred to forge his own path in life. Their families had been feuding for generations, so it was no surprise that Harry detested Louis. But fate had other plans. Louis discovered that Harry was his soulmate when they both turned 18 and had Harry's name etched on his skin as proof of their destined connection. Harry, however, could care less about Louis allegedly being his soulmate and left the country at 18. Now, three years later, Harry has returned to London. Does Harry still despise Louis? Or will he finally give in to the undeniable pull between them?

29) Nowhere To Hide But Home | Mature | 118,091 words

Harry lunged and tackled the omega to the ground, sending dirt, roots, and shrubs up around them. Buried deep into the soft soil of the woods lining the valley, Harry hovered above the omega with his head as far away from Harry’s gaze as possible. “Louis.” His head snapped around, but that furious expression didn’t waiver. “What do you want? Get off me, you twat!” “Will you run?” “Take a guess.” Louis squirmed anyways, but Harry’s fluttering heart refused to move. He refused to give him a chance of escape, not until Harry got answers, and certainly not until he ate something. He owed Harry answered.“Get off me, Harry!” “Tell me why I should, and I will.” Louis opened his mouth, two thin lips widening like he had something witty to say, but nothing came out. Instead, his cheeks reddened, and he blinked back emotion. Exactly as Harry thought: no answer.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #monthly fic rec #blp #blp fic recs #larry fic recs

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earthlybeam · 2 months ago

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All my Masterlist below

I’ve organized everything so you can easily find what you’re looking for without needing to scroll down My page. Part 2 Masterlist click here ❤️‍🔥🤌

Character list - Click here

Headcanons - Thranduil Gil-Galad Elrond Legolas Lindir Haldir Glorfindel Meludir

New year 2025 - Thranduil Gil-Galad Elrond

Underneath the Mistletoe - Thranduil Gil-Galad Elrond Haldir Glorfindel Legolas

Christmas elven winter - Thranduil Elrond Gil-Galad Celeborn Celebrimbor Haldir Lindir Glorfindel Erestor Meludir Elladan Elrohir

elves react to a daring surprise kiss from reader/you while drunk on wine at a festival - Thranduil, Elrond Gil-galad, Celebrimbor Lindir, Haldir, Elrohir, Elladan

Gems of the forgotten love, gift for future (thranduil) - Part 1 Another part learned lesson

A birthday of his own (Gil-galad) - Part 1 Part 2

Elves reacting their you saving their life’s - Thranduil, Elrond, Círdan Gil-Galad, Haldir Glorfindel, Celeborn Celebrimbor Legolas Elladan, Elrohir

Elves how would they react to their human s/o being so…human with their ‘odd quirks’ by elven standards - Thranduil, Elrond, Gil-Galad Lindir, Erestor, Glrofindel Celeborn, Haldir, Círdan, Adar Feren, Meludir, Galion, Elros Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir

Yandere/dark elves x female fairy reader - Thranduil, Elrond, Gil-Galad Glorfindel, Haldir, Lindir Feren, Meludir, Galion Elros Legolas, Elrohir, Elladan, Erestor, Celeborn Adar Celebrimbor

You Slapping their Butt and Calling them “Dummy Thick” in Front of Everyone - Thranduil, Elrond, Celeborn Lindir, Erestor, glorfindel Elladan, Elrohir Legolas, Meludir, feren, Galion, Elros Gil-Galad, Círdan, Haldir Adar

Elves reacting to human/mortal being human-self with openly affection and physically - Thranduil Elrond Gil-Galad Celeborn,Erestor, Legolas Galion, Elros, Feren Elladan, Elrohir Círdan Haldir Lindir Meludir Glorfindel Another thranduil, Elrond, Gil-galad

Elves with A bittersweet tale with heartwarming ending x mortal reader - Thranduil, Legolas, Haldir, Elrond

You who is initially afraid of elves but eventually warm up and befriend them - Elrond, Glorfindel, Elladan

Elves reacting to your ice powers - Thranduil, Elrond

Elves reacting to you being dragon - Elrond, Glorfindel, Legolas

Elves reacting to cheeky/snarky reader flirting with them - Celeborn, Gil-galad, Thranduil

Elves reacting to you Shapeshifting - Elrond, Glorfindel, Elrohir

You/reader surpassing lord Elrond at healing - Elrond

Feren x hobbit reader - Here

Princess of Mirkwood forbidden romance - Galion, Meludir

Elves reacting to you writing a book about them and that got popular - Elrond, Thranduil, Haldir

Elves reacting to their s/o being sad and how they would comfort them - Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir

Elrohir react to you being hurt - Elrohir

Tangled strands of affection - Elladan Haldir

Healing in the quiet: Elrond care - Elrond

The burn of the past thranduil’s dragon fire scar revealed - Thranduil

When the table turn: Hero’s need saving - Elrond, Gil-Galad, Círdan, Haldir, Legolas

A Touch of a home - Glorfindel, Feren

Gil-Galad Courtship x elf reader - Gil-Galad

Through his eyes, her perfection - Thranduil

A love unspoken, finally heard - Lindir

Mad science in middle-earth - Thranduil, Elrond, Legolas

Innocent Words, Flustered Hearts - Thranduil, Elrond, Gil-Galad Legolas

#masterlist #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #rings of power x reader #Earthlybeam Masterlist

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emblematicae · 1 month ago

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VALEDICTORIAN, EGO TE PROVOCO

Tom Marvolo Riddle x Female Reader

Content Warnings: 1940’s Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, predominantly written in the third-person limited perspective of Tom Riddle, intentional minimal use of Reader’s perspective, canon-divergence, canon-typical violence; possessive, obsessive, and emotionally manipulative behavior, emotional abuse, first-degree murder, voluntary manslaughter, abuse of power and authority, complicity, coercion, petty thievery, reoccurring themes of death and acceptance, childhood friends, unhealthy relationship dynamics, one-sided rivalry, jealousy, limerence, chronic illness, hallucinations, ghosts, mental instability, morally grey reader, Tom Riddle is his own warning.

VALEDICTORIAN, I CHALLENGE YOU

Impossibly close to donning the title of the most promising and unfathomably gifted protégé Hogwarts has ever laid eyes upon, the wizarding world would be foolish to ignore such an accomplished scholar. Procuring a seat at the grand table alongside every and all great wizards and witches preceding him, his name would maintain a revered longevity surpassing history itself—Tom Riddle is second to none, none but you. He stands as a salutatorian before you; his clever nature and wisdom beyond his years, extensive honors, accolades that sing nothing but his praises, and noble laurels vanish into a vapid nothingness compared to you.

It was less noticeable when the both of you were much younger. Any semblance of academic rivalry was diminished by the fact you were far too sick and weak to even entertain him with faux competition (even if the winner was obvious). Years have passed since then, and the two of you have pursued your own respective aspirations that could not be further apart, all the while just barely preserving your cherished bond. And as Tom worked hard to curate his perfect, idealistic image, and brilliance of unreachable heights, you remained as sick and weak as you once were. And yet, you still best him. Tom cannot escape your shadow, and nothing has changed since your shared youth with the troubled boy. He can continue to excuse it with the fact that you are older than him, one year difference and one year ahead (if only for the sake of his bruised ego), but the truth of the matter is: you’ve always been better, haven't you?

No amount of research can replicate the authentic Harry Potter reading experience—please do forgive me for any inaccuracies regarding the aforementioned media. It is more loosely based off of the events that occur in the books with certain elements being removed or altered to fit the new narrative. Thank you for your understanding.

To you, the one who reads.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE.

PART ONE. YEAR ONE. 1925 to 1937.

ŪNUS.

DUO.

TRES.

EXPLANATORY NOTES

#𐙚 emblems écrit #valedictorian ego te provoco #Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling 1997 #Rapacki Jozef. Scene in the Painter’s Studio.#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fanfiction #slytherin boys #harry potter #harry potter x reader #t.m.r. 𝜗𝜚

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hollyethecurious · 2 months ago

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CS AU: Sleeps Ten, My Ass (2/2)

Summary: It's become tradition for Emma Swan to spend the holidays with her brother, their cousins, and their families. This Christmas was no different. The group booked a four night stay at a cozy mountain cabin to celebrate. The listing said it sleeps ten, but upon arrival they discover a small issue. The listing was wrong and now Emma and Killian Jones, the only two single people within their group, have to spend the next four nights sharing a bed. Fortunately... they've shared a bed before.

A/N: @eastwesthomeisbest I'm sorry this Part Two took a little longer to get to you than I'd planned, but I hope you'll find it worth the wait! Again, it was lovely being your CS Secret Santa!! I hope you have a wonderful 2025!!

For the rest of my readers, I started over with my Curious Crew Tag List (which I typically do at the first of the year). Although I'm pretty sure I've added everyone who told me to date that they wished to be added, if I missed you (SORRY) or you wish to be added, please let me know!!

Thanks to @kmomof4 for looking this over for me and to the @cssecretsanta2020 for once again hosting a fantastic event. Side note, this fic also completes my Only One Bed: Holiday Edition square for the CS Winter Bingo!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One

Part Two

“Merry Christmas!”

Emma clinked her mimosa against the glasses of her family and friends then settled onto the sofa next to her brother. Taking a sip of the bubbly beverage, she perused the room and let the early morning alcohol warm her from the inside as the fireplace beside her took care of the outside.

Much as Killian had done for her last night.

Shaking off that thought - and the remnants of the dreams she’d had where he’d kept her warm in other ways - Emma tucked her legs beneath her and gave Liam her attention as he passed out the gifts.

The couples tended to exchange gifts with one another in private before they met as a group, and Emma imagined this year was no different. The gifts Liam was handing out were the ones each of them had brought for a specific member of their group. Every Thanksgiving they drew names at random so each person only had to buy something for one other person. Then, Christmas morning, they would all open their gifts and reveal who had bought for whom.

Emma was grateful that she did not have to buy something for everyone, but she did not enjoy the fact that they opened the gifts one at a time while the rest of the group watched, making the person unwrapping the center of attention.

Well, the person unwrapping and the person who had gifted it.

“David, I love it!” Elsa praised with a laugh, holding up the lightweight sweatshirt for everyone to see.

Printed across the front in bold lettering, it read: No. I don’t need a coat. The cold doesn’t bother me.

“That’s perfect,” Liam chortled, already tearing his gift open.

And around the room they went. After Elsa was Liam, then Kristoff, then Anna, who Emma had drawn and gifted a pair of boots she’d known her cousin had been wanting. When Anna was finally done gushing over them, Emma began to open her gift.

“So… who will I be thanking for this…” She’d gotten the rest of the paper off and the lid to the box open when her words fell away as she looked over the myriad of items within.

“It’s a, uh...” Killian cleared his throat and pawed at the patch of skin behind his ear as he went on to explain. “It’s a sort of… winter stake-out care package, I guess is what you’d call it.”

Emma began lifting the items out of the box as Killian described them and the thought process behind his selecting each one.

“I’d noticed earlier this month when we all got together for that holiday festival that you needed a new beanie,” he said as she slipped the hunter green beanie onto her head and then pulled out a pair of soft gloves. “Now, I know you don’t tend to wear gloves on a stake-out because they get in the way of you taking photos or making notes on your phone, but with these you can slip the individual fingertips off so your hands can stay warm while you still have use of your finger pads.”

Emma tested them out whilst he explained their function, loving the ease with which she could quickly bare her thumbs and fingertips. They would certainly come in handy, as would the next item.

“A portable electric kettle,” Killian informed the group when more than one of them had murmured an inquiry about the item in question. “You just add water and plug it into the cigarette lighter in your vehicle and it’ll boil in less than 90 seconds. It also serves as a thermos once you’ve heated the water.” Killian lifted his chin in a pointed gesture and added, “There’s some hot cocoa packets and instant coffee in there as well.”

“This is…” Emma began, somewhat at a loss of what to say.

“Do you like it?”

Emma’s eyes jumped to Killian’s which were filled with a hesitant anticipation; his brows furrowed as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“I do,” she answered, smiling softly at him. “This was all so thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Swan,” he replied, a bright smile adorning his lips as he let out a heavy breath of relief.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mary Margaret elbow David in the ribs. No doubt it was an attempt to keep whatever snide comment he had at the ready about her occupation from falling out of his mouth. Emma knew her brother did not approve of her line of work. In truth, most of them didn’t. The only one who never gave her a hard time about it, who never questioned her abilities or capability, who only ever asked about it out of genuine curiosity and interest, and without an ulterior motive to somehow diminish her success or exaggerate the dangers, was Killian.

Emma tried to focus on the remaining gifts being opened by the rest of their group, but her mind kept circling back to her own. The way Killian had noticed the state of her beanie and how he inherently knew and understood the reason why she tended to not wear gloves, despite her having the opposite reaction to the cold from her cousin.

The cold did bother her. It always had.

The contrast of her and Elsa’s response to it had always been a source of amusement within their circle. As evidenced by David’s gift to Elsa and past comments made regarding the issue. It struck Emma, in that moment, that Killian had never taken her objection to the cold lightly. From the beginning, he had always made sure she was comfortable. Warm. Content.

Like last night. Like many times before. Like with his gift. Making sure she’d be warm and comfortable during the long, wintery nights whilst on a stake-out. The way he’d made sure she was warm that night. The night in the Caribbean when a cool ocean breeze had met her damp skin - sweat soaked from dancing in a crush of people - and she’d shivered, her slip of a dress, which left little to the imagination, unable to combat the chill as goosebumps erupted over her entire body.

She could still feel the soft fabric of Killian’s jacket around her shoulders, the warmth it transferred from his body to hers, his scent lingering on the collar and intoxicating her sinuses in the same way the rum had infused their blood. The memory of the heat of his hand, pressing against the small of her back as he walked her to her cabin made Emma shift in her seat, as did the whisper of his hot breath against her neck when she recalled the words he’d murmured into her ear.

“I’ll keep you warm, love. Just say the word and I’ll make you burn until morning. It would be both our pleasure, I swear it.”

He had been good to his word.

So, so good.

“Who's ready for breakfast?”

Mary Margaret’s inquiry, which signaled the end of the gift giving portion of the day, shook Emma from her thoughts. Her highly inappropriate thoughts. Thoughts that had caused her cheeks to grow hot and blush pink; a fact she hoped no one had noticed.

“You look a bit flushed, Swan,” Killian commented on their way to the dining room - much to Emma’s mortification. “I guess my gifts are doing their job.”

Unable to meet his eye, Emma swiped the new beanie off her head and peeled the gloves off her hands. “Yep. I’m nice and toasty now. Thanks.”

“Anytime, love,” he replied in a deep, quiet timbre. Was she imagining the mixture of promise and longing in his words? Was he merely being his usual cheeky self, or was he reminding her of all the ways they could produce heat together… and his willingness to explore them with her?

“Who needs a refill?” Elsa offered, holding up the bottle of champagne and the pitcher of orange juice.

“Me!” Emma responded, hurrying towards the island with her champagne flute and receiving the first of many, many refills she’d imbibe that day.

~/~

This was a bad idea. No, it was a great idea, but it was also, potentially, a very, very bad idea.

It had been Anna’s idea. Which wasn’t the reason it was a bad one. It was actually a really good one. After a long day of cooking and drinking and eating and games and drinking and cleaning and drinking, her cousin had suggested they end the evening with a soak in the hot tub.

Which was a terrific idea, except… wearing nothing but her bikini, in a hot tub, with Killian Jones, also in his swimsuit, with his hair curling from the steam and water droplets clinging to his chest hair and pooling in the hollow of his throat while she - and the rest of them - continued to polish off the bottles of champagne that never seemed to end was a very, very bad idea.

But when had a bad idea ever stopped her before?

Especially when said bad idea had actually crossed her mind days before when she’d packed her bag. More specifically, the tiny, red, string bikini she’d worn during their cruise vacation. But no, she absolutely did not choose to pack this particular bikini because she remembered the look on Killian’s face and the hunger in his eyes when he saw her in it the first time on the pool deck. The same hunger that was threatening to devour her from a darkened, forget-me-not gaze across the hot tub.

Okay, maybe she did pack this particular bikini on purpose with this particular scenario in mind.

The idea wasn’t the only thing that was bad. Emma was also being bad. Very, very bad. And she wanted to do bad things. Very, very bad things with the man she found herself alone in the hot tub with after all their family and friends had decided to turn in about an hour after they’d first all got in.

“D’you wanna stay inna bit longer or turn in,” Killian asked with a heavy tongue from all the alcohol he’d consumed over the course of the day.

The same amount that was currently coursing through her veins and causing her to want to act on her very, very bad ideas.

“Prolly should turn in,” she replied in an equally tipsy tone. “M’ry Marget wants to head out early for after Kissmas shopping.”

Another loathsome tradition, but one Emma complied with for her sister-in-law’s sake. She wasn’t much for bargain hunting, but she knew what the bonding time together meant to the woman who had married into a sisterhood (despite Elsa and Anna actually being Emma’s cousins) after being an only child all her life and an orphan for the greater part of it.

“Right then,” Killian said, standing from where he’d been lounging in the corner and offering her a hand up. “We should get you to bed, love.”

Taking his hand, Emma stood, then immediately lost her footing and fell into his wet, firm chest. His arms circled her waist, his inebriation making him a bit clumsy and the slickness of their skin causing one of his hands to inadvertently land a bit too low. Palming her ass cheek may have been an accident, but the way his grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin as he prompted her hips forward was not.

Nor was the way she responded, bringing herself flush against him as their lips, teeth and tongues met with fervor. He groaned into her mouth when she raked her nails down his back, then reached up and wrapped his other hand around the back of her neck.

“I want you,” he breathed, the much needed air secondary to the words he seemed desperate to convey.

“I want you, too,” she told him before suddenly finding herself in his arms, being carried out of the hot tub and into the cabin. After setting her down by the dying embers of the fire, he grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around her.

“I’m gonna shut off the hot tub and close things up,” he informed her. “Wait for me in our room?”

Emma nodded, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she headed for the stairs. Glancing back over her shoulder, she giggled at the way he hurriedly - and drunkenly - took care of the tasks so he could follow after her. He didn’t keep her waiting long. No sooner had she finished drying off - still clad in her bikini, so not completely dry - and taking her hair down from the high bun she’d pulled it into so it would stay out of the water, than he came through the door like a man on a mission.

His mission, it seemed, was to pick up where they’d left off. In less than a second she was back in his arms, their hands indulging in the vast expanse of exposed skin while their mouths fought to devour the other.

“You’ve no idea what seeing you in this bikini does to me,” he growled against her lips, his fingers toying with the knotted strings tied at her back.

Reaching between them, Emma cupped his hardness through the thin, damp fabric of his trunks and hummed into his mouth before murmuring, “Actually, I think I do.”

“We’re drunk,” he stated, pulling back slightly while his hands gripped her hip and grazed her back.

“W’are,” she slurred, flicking her gaze up to his. “Your point?”

“We were drunk last time, too,” he reminded her, sloppily. “I’ve always regretted that.”

“Regretted it?”

“Not what we did,” he clarified, his fingers brushing up her side, over the back of her shoulder, then back down her arm. “I regret I wasn’t in complete control of my faculties when I took you. That the details of you, naked and quivering beneath me, are hazy in my memory because of the alcohol clouding them.”

Emma cupped his length harder, pulling a grunt from the depths of his chest and causing his eyes to slip shut as his lips parted in pleasure. “Will that regret keep you from taking me again?” she asked, kneading the underside of his balls with her fingertips. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she gripped his earlobe between her teeth, eliciting a sharp intake of breath that interrupted the moans vibrating up his throat. “Will that regret keep you from allowing me the pleasure of being taken?”

Killian jerked his head away, her teeth scraping against the lobe of his ear. A growl rumbled in his chest as he pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes dark and piercing despite the alcohol hooding his gaze.

“Absolutey the fuck not,” he declared in a tone that curled her toes and nearly made her knees give out.

With a series of sharp tugs, he undid the knots that had kept her bikini top secured, then tore the flimsy piece of fabric from her breasts so his mouth and hands could replace it. Clutching his head to her chest, Emma gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist when he managed to lift her, one handed, so he could carry her to the bed. He probably would have deposited her on the mattress with more finesse had he been sober, but Emma wasn’t complaining, not when he sank to his knees at the end of it and began divesting her of her bikini bottoms with his teeth.

She wasn’t sure whether she said them out loud, but the last coherent words to flow through her consciousness before his tongue began its assault on her sex were, we really ought to do this sober at some point.

~/~

“Got our to-go coffees!”

Emma groaned, her head resting against her arms which were crossed on top of the table they’d just finished having breakfast on. If you could call a slice of dry toast breakfast, that is.

She really shouldn’t have drank so much the day before.

She hated to think how much worse her hangover would be if, after their… relations, Killian hadn’t insisted they both take an aspirin and chase it with a large glass of water before crashing.

Yet another thing to be grateful to Killian Jones for.

And he had given her many, many things to be grateful for last night.

Of course, she’d given him her fair share as well.

Not that she should be thinking about any of that now, especially when thinking in general was causing her head to pound.

“Here,” Elsa said, prompting Emma to sit up and take the to-go cup being offered to her. “I slipped a little hair of the dog in it for you.”

Emma glanced down to where Elsa was brandishing the flask she had tucked away in her purse, a very Jones-esque smirk pulling at her lips.

“Your brother-in-law is a bad influence,” Emma chortled, then winced at the way the action made her stomach gurgle.

Elsa laughed and stood, prompting the rest of the table to follow. The four women made their way out of the diner and towards the shops that were just beginning to open for the after Christmas sales. Emma took a large gulp of her doctored coffee, willing it to sustain her these next few hours. She was gonna need all the help she could get.

“Emma,” Elsa said quietly, as they milled around the third - or was it the fourth - shop of the day.

When Emma glanced over at her, Elsa tilted her head towards the corner, indicating a more private place to chat, and Emma, curious, followed her cousin.

“What’s up?” Emma asked, noting the discomfort and hesitation Elsa was struggling with.

“It’s just…” Elsa began, tentatively. “I know you were joking before, when you said Killian was a bad influence, but…”

“But?”

Elsa’s cool blue eyes locked onto Emma’s. She knew that look. It was the same look David would give her when he was about to go all I’m-telling-you-this-for-your-own-good, trust-me-I-know-what-I’m-talking-about, slightly insufferable, older brother on her.

“He isn’t a bad guy.”

Stunned, Emma blanched and assured, “I know that.”

“I mean,” Elsa continued. “I know David thinks he has a reputation of being a ladies’ man, and has written him off as a ‘bad boy’, but Killian isn’t actually like that.”

“Okay,” Emma drawled, suddenly very uncomfortable with where this conversation might be going. “Why are you tell--”

“Because… He talks about you all the time,” Elsa told her. There was something in her tone that alerted Emma to the fact that her words might be considered a betrayal, but she’d decided to place her loyalties with her cousin rather than her brother-in-law. “He asks about you when it’s been awhile since we’ve all gotten together. I really… I really think he has a thing for you, and I wouldn’t want any misconceptions to get in the way of you possibly--”

“Elsa, stop.”

Emma couldn’t listen to anything more her cousin had to say. It was too much. Too much to hope that this… whatever it was between her and Killian, was more than some ‘dalliance’. More than an itch he felt the need to scratch or some challenge he wanted to conquer.

More than just another notch on his bedpost.

“Look,” she said, her tone not quite as snappy as it had been. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you don’t have to defend Killian to me. I know he’s a decent guy, and I…” Emma wasn’t sure what else to say without giving away her feelings, something she was barely ready to do with herself, and nowhere near ready to admit to anyone else.

“Right,” Elsa said, letting Emma off the hook. “Well, I’m glad we got that sorted. I just… Now that Liam and I are married, the Jones brothers are a permanent fixture in our lives and I--”

“I know,” Emma interjected, wishing to end the awkward conversation. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Elsa asked, stepping a bit closer. “Emma, Killian isn’t going anywhere. I know you keep your guard up because you’re afraid of being wrong about him, but… give him a chance? I really think he just might surprise you. In the best way.”

Elsa’s words lingered in Emma’s mind for the rest of the day, as did nearly every interaction she’d ever had with Killian over the past several years. If what Elsa had said was true, that Killian had genuine feelings for her, then why hadn’t he ever made a move?

Granted, in the early years of Elsa and Liam’s relationship, he only came around a couple of times, but he had been a solid member of their group for at least the past two. Yet, he’d never given her any indication of being serious about her. Sure, he flirted and made suggestive comments and did outrageous things with his eyebrows and tongue, but he did that with everyone, right? Even David and Kristoff.

He didn’t have their preferred drink at the ready when they inevitably showed up late, though. Nor did he buy them thoughtful gifts that affirmed and supported their chosen profession. He also did not gravitate towards the rest of them like he did her. And she to him.

He didn’t look at any of them the way he looked at her. In fact… She could not recall a single time they’d been together when she’d seen him look at another woman that way. Not even on the cruise when there had been no shortage of beautiful women in revealing, eye-catching outfits. Not even when those women had come onto him, slipping their room numbers, phone numbers, and who knows what else into his pocket.

Surely, given the fact that he was gorgeous and charming and sexy as hell - don’t get her started on the accent - and had women throwing themselves at him, he had no trouble keeping his date book full and his bed warm. It’s not like he’d been pining after her all this time.

Right?

~/~

The ladies got back to the cabin later than they’d planned. Initially, the group was going to make do with the leftovers for dinner, cleaning out the fridge and making sure nothing went to waste before checking out the next day. However, the shopping and bonding and girl-time had led to them informing the guys that they’d be dining out instead and to not wait up.

Emma - despite the internal turmoil and lingering questions her conversation with Elsa had left her with - had actually enjoyed the day with her cousins and sister-in-law. So much so that it might have been her idea to ditch leftovers with the gents and treat themselves to a lovely meal at the bistro they’d walked by several times during their shopping ventures through the town.

Was a small part of that suggestion due to the fact she wasn’t ready to face Killian?

Yup. Absolutely. 100%

There was no putting it off any longer, though. Despite their insistence that the men should not wait up for them, they had. Because, of course they had.

After a brief recap of the day and a run down of what would need to be done in the morning before they checked out of the cabin, the group dispersed, heading to their respective rooms and turning in for the night. Emma glanced at Killian, whom she’d been avoiding making eye contact with, and could see the same uncertain, hesitant, bracing-for-what-may-come-next demeanor she knew she’d walked into the cabin with.

Making her way into their room, she noted how he’d made the bed and picked up their discarded suits that had still littered the floor when she’d left early that morning. She swallowed heavily at the memory of her quickly quieting her alarm and getting ready - queasy and heavy-headed - as silently and stealthily as possible as not to wake him and force an interaction. What had it been like for him to wake up alone? Had he been plagued by thoughts and memories and questions all day like she had? Eager to see her and discover what it all meant whilst also willing to allow the hours to drag on and avoid having to face a reality that may not meet hopeful expectations?

The door softly snicked closed, the air growing heavy and charged as tense anticipation palpated throughout the room.

“Swan,” Killian began, his voice gentle but resolved as he hovered by the door, giving her as much space as he could within the privacy of their room. “I know talking about last night is probably the last thing you wish to do, but I really think, given that it’s happened twice now, that we really ought to dis--”

“You’re right,” she agreed, cutting him off. “I think we need to talk about it.”

Killian balked. That was clearly not the response he’d been prepared to receive from her. “You do?”

“Yeah,” she said, wetting her lips and shuffling her feet against the carpet, her gaze turned downward as she slipped her hands into her back pockets. “I’ve, uh… I've been thinking about it all day. I mean…” she paused, her eyes closing briefly at how that statement could be misconstrued, even if the presumption wouldn’t be completely off base. “I’ve been thinking about us all day.”

“Me, too,” he replied with understanding, no hint of teasing or suggestive provocation in his tone.

Emma lifted her gaze and met his eyes. He was looking at her as one would a cornered animal, cautious and careful of making any sudden movement that might frighten the creature away.

“Actually,” she continued, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as she gathered the courage to make her next confession. “I’ve been thinking about us since that night on the ship.”

“Aye,” he breathed out on little more than a whisper. “Me, too.”

With her hands still tucked away in her pockets, she dipped her gaze down to her feet once more and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation.

It took her a moment to get over her own.

“The other night,” she began, haltingly. “When you implied that you didn’t share your bed often enough to develop a preference on which side of the… I know it’s none of my business, but…”

“But?”

Flicking her gaze to his once more, she took a breath and asked, “How often is not often enough?”

Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear; a usually endearing tell of his, but one that had her stomach churning at that moment.

“I, uh… actually…” He cleared his throat and cast his gaze aside, though he did throw a furtive glance her way as he answered, “This past year I’ve only shared my bed with one person.”

“Oh,” Emma replied, her heart sinking a bit. “Can I ask who?”

Killian’s head snapped back towards her, a look of amused confusion on his face. His expression softened and he closed the space between them, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw as he said, “Don’t you know, Emma… It’s you.”

“What?” she exhaled, stupidly. “What do you mean… me?”

“I haven’t been with another woman since last Christmas when you kissed me beneath the mistletoe.”

Emma knew her mouth was hanging open. She knew she must have looked - in his words - absolutely gobsmacked. “B-But that was…” she stuttered, recalling the moment he was referring to. “That was just a silly, little peck on the lips because Elsa had hung it over the bar station and caught us standing there. It was hardly even a kiss.”

“Perhaps not to you,” he said with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “But it was to me.”

Dropping his hand he took a small step back and Emma instantly regretted making it seem as though the kiss hadn’t been a big deal. In truth, she’d had to convince herself for months afterward that it wasn’t.

“But it wasn’t just the kiss,” he continued. “It’s what the kiss exposed.”

Emma felt her breath hitch at the way he was looking at her now: vulnerable, unguarded, and - to use the word he’d just uttered - thoroughly exposed.

“Which was?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a longing took over in his forget-me-not depths. “That you’re it for me, Swan. I…” Boldly, he approached her again, his words and expression leaving no room for doubt as to his sincerity. “There’s no one else. I don’t want anyone else. You’re the one I want.”

“Why… Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, the sound of her heart thundering in her ears, her chest rising and falling a bit too rapidly.

He cocked his head to one side, an uncomfortable expression taking hold of his features as he reminded her, “At the time, you were with that Walsh bloke, and despite my dislike of the fellow, it seemed bad form to make heartfelt declarations whilst you were in a relationship.” Running a hand through his hair, he exhaled heavily and added, “When it did, thankfully, end, although his timing was rubbish, leaving you high and dry on Valentine’s Day, you seemed a bit… put off by the idea of, well, all men.”

“Right,” she said, her cheeks flushing hot at the reminder. “My rant at the pub about how all men are bastards and how I was vowing to live a celibate life from then on.”

“Aye,” he chuckled. “Didn’t seem like the right time to suggest we start… anything.”

“So,” she said, understanding why he’d taken a step back. “You gave me some space.”

“I thought it best to give it time. Let you heal. Remind yourself that, though the wanker had broken your heart, at least that meant it still worked.”

“And then,” she said, prompting him to continue. “The cruise.”

“Aye, the cruise,” he parroted, swallowing hard. “Liam and Elsa’s wedding, both of us in the wedding party, spending all that time together, flirting, connecting. I thought… I thought, perhaps, it was finally my chance. Our chance. We had that amazing night together. Not just the sex, but everything else that had led up to it. And then…”

“And then, I metaphorically ran for the hills the next morning.”

Killian dropped his head, his shoulders tense as he drew in a deep breath. “I was afraid that I may have taken advantage of--”

“No, Killian,” she said, cupping his cheek and urging him to look at her. “We went over that the next day. You didn’t take advantage of me. At least, not anymore than I took of you. That wasn’t why I--”

“I know, love,” he murmured. “I know you weren’t ready. You were still getting over--”

“No, I wasn’t,” she told him. “I got over Walsh a long time ago, I just…”

“What?” he asked, his eyes flicking between hers. “You just what, Swan?”

A contrite expression pulled at her brows and she dropped her hand to his chest as she confessed, “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost. I didn’t want to be some conquest.”

“Oh, Emma,” he whispered, gathering her in his arms. “You are not some conquest. Not to me.”

He held her for several beats of their hearts, his face nuzzling the top of her head. “Ever since that night, I have waffled between the desire to respect your wishes, and the urge to fight for what I want.” Pulling back, he gazed down at her and professed, “I’m done waffling. I want you, Emma. I want to be with you. I want to pursue you, and woo you, and court you in all the ways you ought to be.” Bringing his hand up, he caressed the side of her face with the backs of his fingers and murmured, “But only if you want that as well. Whatever we become is as much up to you as it is to me.”

“That all sounds good to me,” she said, pulling a deep chuckle from his chest, and they both smiled at one another, basking in the joy of the moment.

A joy that transitioned as they stood there, lightly caressing the other, breathing the other in, and gazing into each other’s eyes. Eyes that were darkening and becoming more hooded and intense as the atmosphere began to electrify around them.

When their lips met, it wasn’t in the chaotic and frenzied way they had in the instances before. There was no less passion, no less heat, but the desperation in this kiss was for closeness, intimacy, and not because either of them thought this might be the only time they’d ever get a chance to experience the other in this way.

After a long, thorough, languid exploration of her mouth, Killian’s moved to her jaw, the space below her ear, then down her neck. Emma’s fingers carded through his hair as his tongue mapped the slope of her shoulder, his hand gently pulling at the collar of her shirt to expose a greater path.

“I agree,” he murmured into her skin, his lips applying soft kisses and gentle, sucking pressure to her pulse points as they traveled back up her neck.

“With what?” Emma panted, torn between wanting to bask in this unhurried moment of enjoyment and her eagerness to move things along so they could get to the really good stuff.

“With what you said last night,” he reminded her, pulling his face away from her neck so he could stare down at her with a smoldering gaze of desire. “We really ought to do it sober sometime, and I see no better time than now. Do you?”

“Uh, yeah. No. I mean…” Emma silently cursed herself for sounding like an idiot. Taking a deep breath, she reached down and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, then began lifting it as she replied, “I think so, too.”

Killian raised his arms, allowing her to peel the shirt from his body. His breath visibly hitched beneath her touch as she ran her fingers down the front of his chest; the muscles in his lower abdomen jumping when they reached the top of his jeans where his body hair began to taper into a happy trail. She could feel the heat of his gaze as she loosened his belt, heard the soft gasp that fell from his lips when she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and the groan he let out when she slipped her hand past his boxer briefs to wrap around his hardening, hot, velvety length sent a shiver of wonder down her spine.

“I think,” she whispered in a sultry tone, flicking up her gaze up from beneath her lashes to meet his; her words causing them to open after her actions had clearly made them fall shut in pleasure. “I’ll be the one doing the taking this time.”

A shudder ran through him and his gaze darkened. “As you wish,” he murmured, his timbre low and gravelly and making her want to do all sorts of naughty things to him.

Her hand still wrapped around his cock, she guided him to the edge of the bed and prompted him to sit on the edge as she sank down onto her knees.

“Lie back,” she instructed while working to free him from his jeans and underwear.

“As my lady commands,” he replied, collapsing back onto the mattress, though his head remained lifted so he could watch.

After divesting him of his remaining garments, Emma pulled her hair into a high ponytail. She delighted in the way his body jumped and quivered beneath her touch; her teasing caresses and taunting kisses applied to all the areas except where he’d want them most. Pained pants puffed from his chest and soft whimpers collected in the back of his throat. The cords of his neck strained whenever his head fell back, his eyes following the motion, his lips parted and sticking at the corners whenever his teeth weren’t burying themselves into their soft flesh. When she finally turned her attention to his neglected manhood, his hips jerked off the bed from the feel of her tongue running the length of his cock.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, his hands balling up the comforter in a white-knuckeled grip.

“Shhhh,” she admonished. “Don’t make me gag you like you had to with me last night.”

The reminder forced a half-growl, half-groan from his chest, but it fully transformed into a moan of pleasurable relief when she took him fully into her mouth.

“Gods above, Swan,” he croaked after several minutes of her working him over, trying to keep his voice down. Trying… and failing. “Fuck!”

With a soft pop, Emma released him and stood.

“Apologies, love,” he whispered in a desperate tone. “Please. Don’t stop.”

“I have no intentions of stopping,” she assured him. “But you clearly need help staying quiet.”

If he had a retort to her statement, it must have been forgotten when she lifted her shirt over her head and then removed her bra. Killian’s tongue slowly dragged across his lips, his eyes intently focused on her as she shimmied out of her own jeans and panties. Her black lace panties that matched her bra; a set, like her swimsuit, she had intentionally packed with him in mind.

Black lace panties that she picked up off the floor and let hang off her index finger as she made her way up onto the bed, mounting him dramatically and straddling his hips.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and keep quiet, or…”

She swung her panties once around her finger. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes trained on the black fabric until it came to a rest, crooked on her finger once more, before they met hers. Emma could see the gears turning in his mind, trying to decide which he’d prefer.

After a deliciously taut moment, he said, “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Mmmm,” Emma hummed, leaning down so her lips could hover over his. “Good choice.”

She laid her panties on the pillow next to his head as they kissed - just in case. Killian groaned when his tongue ran alongside hers and Emma knew it was because he could taste the brine of his precum still lingering there. When she finally broke off the kiss so she could sit back and position herself over his length, he followed. They both broke the promise of being quiet when he slipped inside her, filling her, stretching her, molding her to him as though they were only ever meant to fit one another.

Rolling her hips, Emma began to move as Killian held her. Murmurs, grunts, staccatoed breaths, sweet nothings, curses, praises, all filled the space between them as their bodies rolled, their hips swiveled, their lips collided, their eyes connected, and their pleasure mounted.

Whenever Emma would arch her back, Killian latched onto her breasts, lavishing them with his tongue and applying sweet torture with his teeth. Torture that reverberated down to her clit, causing it to throb and ache until she couldn’t take it any longer. Pushing Killian back down onto the mattress, she ground down hard against him in an attempt to alleviate the torment. When she felt the damp press of his thumb against her she nearly cried out before remembering herself.

“That’s it, love,” he encouraged, vigorously applying just the right amount of pressure and rhythm to her clit as he shifted beneath her so he could continue to thrust up into her warm, slick center. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. So soft. So wet.” His words became breathier and more strained, his exertions unrelenting as his thumb and cock competed to bring her to completion. “Come for me,” he pleaded, though there was a tone of command that grew more prominent as he repeated them.

“Come for me, love. I want you to come. Need you to come. Come for me, Emma. Oh, Emma. Emma, Emma, My Emma. Come!”

And come, she did.

Hard.

Showing her no mercy, Killian kept pounding into her, his ministrations at her clit sending wave after wave of ecstasy and bone-numbing pleasure through her, making it impossible for her to stay upright. Collapsing against him, she felt his rhythm falter for a few brief seconds when he brought up his knees, giving him the necessary leverage to chase after her into the euphoric abyss she was still tumbling down. The sounds of his desperation panted and grunted and moaned in her ear, until his breath hitched and guttural groanings, deeper than words, reverberated through his chest and stuttered over his lips like his hips did against hers.

Emma wasn’t sure how long they laid there, sated and spent and unbearably content as their bodies cooled and their breaths evened out.

“Do you need to move?” Killian asked, his legs stretching back out as his arms kept her held firmly against him.

“I don’t want to,” she mumbled into the side of his neck. “But I probably ought to.”

During their post-coital cuddling, he’d already begun to soften and slip from her, but the emptiness she felt when he fully left her had them both quickly moving through their aftercare routines so they could be back in the other’s arms, nestled beneath the covers, as quickly as possible.

“Does it all still sound good to you, love?” Killian questioned between the soft kisses he was applying to the back of her shoulder.

“The wooing and pursuing and courting, you mean?” she clarified, sleepily.

“Aye.”

“Mmmm, you bet.”

~/~

“Well, I think that’s everything,” Liam said, tying a knot on the last of the trash bags that needed to be taken out. “Elsa is going over the check-out list one last time, but I think we’ve taken care of everything.”

“I don’t see why we even bothered,” David groused. “It’s not like the owner kept up his end of things.”

“And Elsa will make sure her review reflects that,” Liam assured him.

Emma and Killian exchanged amused glances with one another. Other than the heat going out that one night - which Kristoff had managed to fix the next day - she and Killian had been the only ones truly ‘inconvenienced’ by the misleading information in the cabin’s listing.

An inconvenience she was tempted to leave a five star review for.

Sleeps ten, her ass… and her eternal gratitude.

The End

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

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#csff #cs ff #csfic #cs fic #cs au #captain swan #csss2024 #cssecretsanta2024 #sleeps ten my ass #words by hollye

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bluecanvasshoe · 3 months ago

Text

Frankly, Mr. Shankly

platonic!Marauders x gn!Gryffindor!reader

Picture from Lucy Orpwoodd on Pinterest!

Summary: You've been feeling inadequate in everything, really. It seems the people you thought were pushing you away are the only ones who can help calm these thoughts.

Content: reader struggles with feeling 'average' and 'not good enough', everyone is a bit of an ass but they all apologize, hurt/comfort, Wolfstar is so far just pining in this and Remus is a lil salty, mentions of Sirius' family life :(, use of y/n (IM SORRY), teenagers being weird and communicating poorly

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: WOW i didn,t expect to be writing THIS much over the break, but i'm glad i have! i hope you all enjoy this one!! and: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!! MY FIRST FIC OF 2025!

and just to be clear: what’s said in this fic about being average IS NOT the truth. but average is perfectly fine, and what’s been written are anecdotes from the reader’s mind (and mine, hehe). do not take whats said to heart, because you’re amazing no matter what!!!!

title from Frankly, Mr. Shankly by the Smiths!

You've always loved your friends, and you knew they loved you equally. If there's one thing about the Marauders, it's that each second spent is a second valued.

Year five was likely the most fun you’ve had in your life. So, why would year six be any different?

Well, this is how.

Your best friends, your partners in crime, your platonic soulmates who complete the Marauders, a group of five rowdy teens, seemed too good for you nowadays.

You were always painfully average in just about everything. It was well known, and for a long time, it really didn’t bother you. It was easy, low maintenance, and no one expected perfection. But since the start of the year, you soon came to find out that this average-ness made it incredibly easy for you to be outshined.

For so many years, people told you that marks or your number of friends were simply figurative objectives or ideas that didn’t carry any real significance. These assurances, however, are only said aloud when there’s nothing to downplay in the first place.

If you’re extraordinarily pretty, people would say you are blessed, and if you’re smart beyond imagination, people would call you gifted.

If you’re none of those things, if you’re not in the middle or either end of the line, you do not receive compliments because hardly anyone sees a point in complimenting the mode. This isn’t to say that some don’t put in a good attempt at digging deeper; but when you seemingly don’t care nor try, no one sees a point in acknowledging something neither person cares for.

These small encouragements were simply a means to an end, a way to appease the unsatisfied.

You didn’t blame anyone for your faults; that’d be silly. No other Gryffindor, no other friend, would intentionally try to put you down. But intentional or not, they still did.

So when James became Head Boy and had actual responsibilities, you felt a little upset. Not angry or sad, but you did miss spending every hour with him and the others. Not to mention the arrogance that he now held. It’d usually be funny, but now it felt like he was too good, too smart for you. You couldn’t live up to the student body’s role model that is James Potter.

After that, Remus became a Gryffindor prefect. You were happy for him, he truly, 100% deserved it. But then he had his own duties too, and you noticed how much more focused and dedicated he was to his role; a good thing, yes, but he tended to drown himself in responsibilities, distracting him from the Marauders. You now felt brushed off when you tried to make conversation with him, as if other things, things that would’ve usually fallen second, came before his friends now.

Sirius had always been a heartthrob, but over the summer, something must’ve changed to make him more appealing to the eyes of your fellow students. More often than not, he’d be away with someone new, or a new person would tag along in your adventures. This person would then begin to think that they were a Marauder, and it made things incredibly frustrating to have someone who often disregarded your presence assert themself into your life.

Finally, Peter was now spending more time with his girlfriend, a Ravenclaw girl you’d never met and he never specified before. You were happy for him, but now he was so distracted with her and trying to impress her via marks that he didn’t have as much time for the Marauders anymore.

But what about you?

Nothing was new in your life; you hadn’t been awarded the title of prefect, or head of anything, or heartthrob, or the love of someone’s life.

At first, you were sad. However, the start of a new school year was always a little bit melancholy, so you chalked it up to post-summer blues.

But when the leaves started falling and you found yourself walking amongst orange and red trees alone, you became angry. Angry at your friends, Marauders or not, angry at teachers who constantly downplayed your achievements, angry at your fellow students, and most of all, angry at yourself.

If you couldn’t live up to be as good as the rest of the Marauders, did you even deserve to be one?

Did you deserve to be at Hogwarts?

You tried studying more often and staying behind in class to ask questions and improve your grades, but nothing worked. Nothing improved. In your mind, you were a lost cause.

–

It was breaktime, and you were hoping you’d get to hangout with the other Marauders. You stood from your seat in potions, slinging your bag over your shoulder and exiting the dingey classroom.

Exiting the room, you ventured to a classroom close by in hopes that Remus would be there.

“Moons,” you called, approaching him.

He looked up from a piece of paper he had in his free hand, noticing you with a smile. “Oh, hello, N/N.”

“Would you want to come with me to find the others?”

He frowned, gaze sympathetic. “I have a prefect meeting that’s supposed to run for the entire break. I’m sorry, but I really need to go this time.”

You hummed, feeling a twinge of sadness in your chest. “Okay, no problem. Would you like for me to walk you there?”

He shook his head, smiling. “No, I’ll be alright. I’m getting used to it, the cane.”

With a nod, you stepped aside to let him past you. “Alright. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later then, yeah?”

“Of course.”

It was always meetings, or supervisions, or patrols. God, he was too busy these days.

With no Remus to accompany you, you found the divination class where both James and Peter would’ve been.

James, noticing you from the corner of his eye, turned his head to face you. He had an arm around Peter, the two of them moving to stand beside the entrance of the classroom so as to not block those who were walking in the halls.

“Hey! How was potions? No Remus?” James asked, pushing his glasses up.

“Remus has a meeting-” “Right, that reminds me, um, guys, I have a study session this break.” Peter interjected, “sorry for the interruption, but I gotta go.”

“Oh, no problem, Wormy,” you replied, watching as James took his arm from Peter’s shoulder, shoving his back lightly as he walked off.

“You suck, James!” Peter called over his shoulder, receiving a hand-heart from his attacker in return.

You grinned, snickering a little. “Wanna come find Sirius with me?”

He smiled, his hands dropping to his sides as he made eye-contact with you. It was hard to look any of your friends in the eyes lately; you didn’t quite understand why. “Sure!”

You two had been making mindless, nonsensical chatter as you found your way to Sirius’ class. Lo and behold, he was there, leaning against the stone of the wall.

“Why’d you two take forever?” He groaned, standing up from the wall.

“Because your class is really far away,” James shrugged, him and Sirius doing their secret handshake. The long haired boy then turned to you, offering his hand for your handshake.

Once completed, you all began making random conversation, beginning to make your way down to the Black Lake.

“-And I mean, I’m Head Boy. Merlin, sometimes people are so stupid, it hurts!”

Sirius laughed, “yeah, I know. Sometimes people will think that, because I’ve had my fair share of partners and whatnot, they can just say whatever about me. It’s awful, especially when they believe that they’re my best friend for life. I cannot stand it.” He bemoaned dramatically.

“Exactly! People just believe that I’m everybody ever’s best friend because I’m Head Boy, and then-”

You didn’t try to interrupt the conversation; you wouldn’t have anything to say, anyways.

Head Boy, my relationships, prefects. It’s all everyone ever talks about, and it’s getting tiring.

–

Everyone, for the first time in a week, was gathered in the common room. Remus sat with Sirius on a couch opposite to you, James laying across a sofa that faced the fire, and Peter sitting beside where James’ feet landed.

Remus, seeming to remember something, raised his head to look at you. You who had been quiet, avoidant, and easy to anger in recent weeks.

“Right, Y/N, do you still have my copy of the Odyssey Homer I gave to you?”

You looked at him, jaw closed tightly. “Uh, yeah. I can return it in a bit.”

“Could you maybe get it now?” He insisted, his tone kind, but almost cautious. You felt bad for the fact that he felt he needed to be careful, guilt weighing more than it already did.

“...Yeah, alright.” You muttered half-heartedly, setting aside your book and walking past the couches. The warm, cozy atmosphere of the Gryffindor common room would usually be comforting, but it only made you feel more upset. Upset for the time lost between the five of you, and longing for the connection you all had in previous years.

You walked up the steps to your dorm, one of your roommates sitting on their bed. They looked up from a book about divination, giving a wave as you trudged over to your bedside table.

“You’ve been grinding your teeth in your sleep again,” They commented, dogearing a page of the textbook and closing it. “Does your jaw not hurt?”

You ignored their question, head turning to look at them. “Oh. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Last time I did, Y/N, you were all pissy.”

“Still,” Your head turned back to the drawers as you crouched down, opening a drawer and searching through it. “I would’ve made up for it.”

“Not the point, Y/N. You’re acting weird.” They crossed their arms, leaning back against their headboard.

You paused, heart beating a little faster. So it’s noticeable? Merlin, of course it’s noticeable. But that means that your other friends have noticed it too. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. What’s eating you?”

Sighing, you closed the drawer and opened another one. “It’s just stress from school.”

They hummed, “You just said it was nothing.”

“It is, but now I’m telling you it’s school stress.”

“Exactly. You switched up your excuse because you’re refusing to say what’s been going on with you; it’s something else.”

You sent them an unamused look, trying to appear nonchalant. “Merlin, nothing’s going on. Will you drop it?”

They sighed, picking their textbook back up. “Christ, alright.”

You found the book you’d borrowed with a relieved sigh, closing the drawers of the nightstand and leaving your dorm with an unusual hastiness. Returning to the common room, you wordlessly gave Remus the Odyssey Homer and sat down again.

James craned his head towards you, stopping mid-sentence and interrupting his nonsensical conversation with Sirius. “You alright there?”

Looking up, you raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Why?”

He shrugged, “You haven’t been talking as much. Did we do something? If we did, you’re allowed to punch us all really hard if you tell us what.”

You huffed. They hadn’t done anything, not really. “You guys didn’t do anything.”

Sirius hummed, tilting his head. “You are acting kinda weird, though. We obviously did if you’re being this avoidant, mate. You can talk about it, we’re not gonna be angry.”

“You’ll feel better if you do,” Peter piped up, his words drawn out.

You hesitated. “It’s so stupid.” You muttered, looking at your lap.

“What’d you say?” James asked, leaning forward.

“‘It’s stupid’,” Replied Remus, using air quotes. James gaped, standing up to march over to your couch and sit down beside you.

“If it’s making you feel so upset, then it’s obviously not stupid!” He huffed, a hand on your shoulder. You grimaced, shoulders hunched.

“It’s not a big deal, though. I really shouldn’t be as upset as I am.”

“Nonsense, N/N! Don’t say that,” he chided. Peter leaned forward, each of your friends donning worried expressions.

Sirius scoffed, “you tell me I’m perfectly reasonable whenever i’m upset about my family, so stop being a hypocrite and tell us!”

“It’s not that easy, Pads.” You replied, frowning.

“I know it’s not, but we all trust each other, yeah? You know we wouldn’t judge you like pricks,” He reasoned, dragging Remus with him to squeeze into the vacant space beside you on the couch. Peter got up, opting to sit at the bottom of the sofa by you.

After a few seconds of hesitation, you felt your bottom lip quivering. James frowned, leaning forward to get a look at you; curse him and his observant qualities. “Awe, no, don’t cry,” he held one of your hands, fiddling with you fingers in an ever to calm you. “Actually, no, crying is good. But please, what’s wrong?”

The others, in a collective effort you get you talking, piped in small encouragements.

You wiped your eyes, sniffling. “I feel… I dunno, I feel stupid. Like- like you guys are too… good for me.”

“What? No!” James gasped.

Sirius frowned, an arm around your shoulders. “Absolutely not. You’re not stupid, and we are not ‘too good’!” He exclaimed, acting as though the mere thought was outlandish and preposterous in nature.

“Why would you think that?” Asked Remus, his voice gentle and coaxing.

You shrugged, swallowing your tears. “You’re… You’re all accomplishing things. And I’m really happy for you all, but I-” your voice cracked, the painful constricting of your throat cutting off your words. You’re not sure if your tears are out of anger or sadness. “I’m not doing anything. I’m not achieving anything impressive. I’m surrounded by amazing people, but I can’t even live up to a quarter of the person they are, and I’m so tired of it.”

You purse your lips, wiping at your eyes again. “And I- I…” With a deep breath, you felt the frustration in your chest bubble up again, the irresistible urge to snap consuming your thoughts and controlling your mouth. “I can’t be the person everyone else is; I’m so average it hurts, and every day I’m reminded of the fact that I’m not and won’t ever be as good as everyone else because now I’m being left alone with my thoughts more often. And- and it’s because all of you have some new title, or are too busy studying and I miss being friends with all of you and I feel so selfish, but I’m so pissed.”

When you were done, you took in what was likely the biggest breath of your life, lungs expanding wider than they ever had. Not even running could render you as out of breath as you currently are.

The rest of the Marauders fell silent, sharing expressive glances and mulling over the right things to say.

“We’re still friends. Marks, names, none of that... actually matters to us. They’re just things.” Peter replied, his voice soft.

You huffed, blinking back tears. “Everyone says that because no one understands that I try so hard to achieve that ‘thing’. It’s so much more to me than that; I just- I just want to be good enough.” You choked out, the anger fading from your voice and being replaced with a pathetic, sad crackle.

James’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “Hey, no, you are good enough. We don't care about any of that,” his tone grew to become more serious than it previously was, his words carrying double the weight. “We became friends with you because we all sat in the same train compartment and got along when we were eleven. Do you think we cared when we were kids?”

You took a steadying breath, shaking your head ‘no’.

“Do you think we care now?” He continued, thumb rubbing shapes into the bone of your shoulder.

“I don’t- I don’t think so.”

He nodded, “Good, ‘cause we don’t; you’re an enjoyable person, we value that the most!”

“Just because Prongs and Moony’ve got posh new titles doesn’t mean they’re better,” Sirius commented up from your other side, nudging you. “If they really believed in that stuff, do you think they’d be friends with us? I mean, we have a detention slip scrapbook, mate. Not really goody-two-shoes behaviour.”

You huffed a laugh at the mention of your shared collection of write-ups, wiping at your eyes.

“That’s not everything though, is it?” James and Remus chorused, giving each other a quick high five soon after.

You took a second, but you eventually shook your head ‘no’ once more. “Sirius, the people you’ve been hanging out with, they… I don’t like it when someone new is with us.” You said cautiously, looking at him in the corner of your eye. He blinked a few times, nodding. “They ignore me, Remus and Peter most of the time and it- it just feels a bit… degrading?”

Sirius’ mouth opened, giving a slow, understanding nod. “Ooh. Yeah… I can see why,” he sympathised with you, looking at Remus briefly. “Moony and I have talked a bit about it. I swear, I’m not doing it ‘cause I think we need someone new, but I don’t want to abandon you lot to go be with someone so seems cool; not as cool us, of course. I’ve tried not to involve them in our hangouts a ton, but- I dunno, I suppose they get in their head about it and act like they’re a part of our group. I’m sorry, not just to you, but to everyone. I’ve been an ass.”

You smiled, looking at him. “Thanks, Pads. It’s okay.”

He shook you a little, frowning. “Awe, don’t say that, hold me accountable. James said you could punch us, you could punch me!”

With a grin, you shook your head. “I’m not gonna punch you. That was shitty, though.”

“It was shitty, so if you won’t, I’ll punch him!” James offered, his usual attitude reappearing as he enthusiastically raised his hand.

“Let’s not punch each other,” Remus said at the same time as Peter interjected, lifting his head to say, “Can we not?”

“They’re constantly inhibiting our fun,” James whined, stretching his arm over you to hold hands with Sirius, who had a dramatic, forlorn expression on his face.

“We’re hated by everyone.” Sirius sighed, shaking his head.

Remus raised an eyebrow, frowning. The look he gave Sirius, the one the other would gaze at him with in much the same way, was one of longing and affection. It was torturous, really; seeing how in-love but convinced about its assumed one-sidedness they were. “Do you not have a fan club or something?”

“Let me be sad, Remus.”

James laughed, separating his hand from Sirius’ and looking at you again. “Seriously, though. We’ll never be ‘too good’ for you or leave you behind for something stupid like a title, mate. You’re our best friend, you always have been, and nothing will change that,” he squeezed your shoulders, glasses reflecting the warm light of the fire.

Remus nodded, “none of us were abandoning you. I suppose we all got distracted in our own ordeals, but we’d never knowingly distance ourselves from you. You’re one of us; your status doesn’t change that.”

You gave both Remus and James a watery smile, old tears drying in your eyes. “I’m sorry for being avoidant. I should’ve- I should’ve said what was happening, it’s not fair to you, I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” James exclaimed, removing his arms from you to outstretch at his sides, enveloping you in a hug immediately after.

Remus reached past Sirius, putting a hand on the middle of your upper back. “You’re a great friend, and I truly, honestly mean that. And you’re smart, too; don’t forget that. If I didn’t have you to talk with, I’d go insane. I hardly think they can even read.”

Sirius and James squawked dramatic refusals in response to his claim, causing Remus to grin smugly.

Sirius cleared his throat, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Anyways, if we’re all saying things we like about you, I still remember when you incendio’d that letter my mother sent in third year. I thought you were a badass. I still do; you’re cooler than that git.” He gestured to Remus, causing the scarred boy to raise his hands in faux shock, mouth slightly agape.

“I agree with what they said,” Peter interjected from the floor. “You’re a good friend. We all met on the train for a reason, I think.”

“Exactly, Wormy.” Sirius nudged Peter with his foot, the boy shoving it away in return.

After all was said and everyone was forgiven, you eventually all moved to form a group hug.

“Let’s pull a prank after this. ”James suggested, his voice muffled. “Let’s douse the hallways in grease from the kitchens again.”

Maybe the couch was tiny and didn’t fit all of you and maybe you couldn’t breathe anymore, but at least self-deprecation wasn't the cause for your breathlessness. The anxious, upset racing of your heart was replaced by happiness. The nasty thoughts clouding your mind and drowning out any sounds around you were replaced by giggles or dumb jokes from your closest friends.

For the first time in a few months, you felt that being average, normal, was okay.

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