#or was it granddad ? i forget

[skyburger]

happy pride month everybody 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ here is some trivia for you all:

maddie blaustein, known for being the voice actress of meowth for several years (among other 4kids characters), has a brother! her brother's name is jeremy blaustein & he translated multiple konami titles including castlevania: symphony of the night and metal gear solid.

i found this out accidentally in my usual stupid roundabout way: i was watching the 4kids yugioh dub -> i looked up the voice actors -> oh maddie blaustein voices yugi's grandpa that's cool. didn't she voice meowth -> i go to her wikipedia page -> i confirm that she voiced meowth but i scroll down & she has one person listed under "relatives" -> jeremy blaustein sounds familiar where do i know him from -> he localized mgs1 & sotn and i read an article about this like... recently. within the last month. small world!

[girl-bateman]

Finally talked to my dad about the whole f1 thing and unfortunately (as I suspected tho) he doesn't have any contact with the f1 guy. HOWEVER he was very enthusiastic about me fixing the brocedes relationship (also very enthusiastic/baffled about it even being a thing lmao) and encouraged me to reach out to our dear cousin adjacent thingy on facebook

[ghost-bison]

I finished Derry Girls yesterday. I know the whole show's about a serious topic and all, but it's done in such a funny way that you don't expect it to go so dark at times. Which is why this show is genius. You see everything through the eyes of a bunch of naive teenagers who honestly have other things to worry about than the Troubles. They think about boys (and girls), and school and the fact that their mums are gonna kill them if they don't pass their final exams, and you get invested and forget what's happening out there. And every time an episode ends with a reminder it's brutal and random and it's so real. Because that's how it is in real life: you never expect to get a call telling you your granddad is dead. Or for your TV program to be interrupted to tell you terrorists crashed a plane into a bunch of towers and killed over 3000 people. Things like that always come unexpected and Derry Girls understood that. Beautiful show.

[teecupangel]

From @halfpintofanxiety

I dont know if its too late to ask but can i ask for additional parental figures including Darim, Jennifer Kenway, Claudia, and Blackbeard- feel free to ignore i just thrive on Desmond getting a better family or being suddenly inserted into places he had no business being in

It is never too late to ask. (No, seriously, if any of you like one of my older ideas/posts, feel free to reblog or reply to it. :))

Alright, let’s see how this new set of parental figures would be better than William Miles:

Darim Ibn-La'Ahad:

This one would be more complicated because there’s a high possibility that Desmond would be born while Altaïr was still alive. Altaïr did tell Darim to go to his family during their final talk so this meant Darim would have married and had a child(ren) by then.

Considering how Darim left Altaïr alone for a while, most probably because he couldn’t stand the way Altaïr grieves (using the Apple too much), Darim probably started his family during the time he was away from Altaïr.

Maybe the reason why he returned had been because his wife was now pregnant and it’s not safe for them for Darim to keep trying to tell everyone about the Mongol invasion so they returned to Alamut.

To make this sadder, Desmond’s birth and Darim showing him to Altaïr, letting him hold his grandson, would be the reason why Altaïr finally snapped out of his obsession and finally take Masyaf back from Abbas.

This also gives us a reason why Darim didn’t join him during that pivotal event. He was busy trying to keep his wife and newborn son safe.

So, in this scenario, not only does Desmond have a loving father like Darim but he grows up to have 10 years of his life together with his grandfather.

Totally a grandfather’s boy and it’s a running joke that Desmond loves his grandfather more than his actual father.

Altaïr’s life still ends the same way but, this time, he tells Darim to give his other journal to Desmond once he comes of age.

Desmond knows Altaïr is dead when Darim returns to them in their home in Alexandria where they’ve been living with Sef’s wife and daughters. He just hugs Darim tightly.

This is a setting where Desmond would grow up being known as Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad’s true successor.

A running joke in the family is how Desmond has perfected his grandfather’s annoyed and disappointed expression and Darim likes to fake-lament how embarrassing it is how his own son’s disappointed expression makes him want to fidget like a child.

Desmond is the oldest of Darim’s children (because I think Darim should have lots of small bundles of happiness and Desmond deserves a little sibling or two… or three) and his younger sibling(s) love him but he’s also considered as the younger brother of Sef’s two daughters.

Desmond grows up in a loving family with a kind (but can be quite scary when disappoint) father, a loving mother and aunt and lots of younger and older siblings.

The journal Altaïr left him has the location of the Armor and Sword as well as how to open the library. Whether Altaïr knew Desmond was actually Desmond Miles or he believes his grandchild should have them, Desmond can never be sure.

Jennifer Scott:

He’d be a… ‘product of circumstances’ in this scenario. Since Jennifer is a concubine in the Topkapı Palace, this would mean that Desmond would be of Ottoman royalty.

Jennifer would have conflicted feelings for him though due to his origins but she would still care for him in her own way. Not to mention, since he’s considered as a child of the Sultan, this does mean that Jennifer’s rank in the harem would change and they have a better chance to survive together in a world that’s foreign to the both of them.

Desmond understands Jennifer’s complicated feelings for him and he never expects her to feel anything for him anyway. He’s used to being ignored. Still, he remembered how she held him as a baby and protected him. It’s because of his loyalty to her that Jennifer starts to see him as her son and not just one of the Sultan’s children.

Desmond doesn’t show it but he’s definitely a mama’s boy in this one.

He also has two names. The name the Sultan and the Ottoman Empire knows him as and the name that Jenny gives him. (Probably ‘Edward’)

Desmond would grow up as one of the Sultan’s children but he’s an outcast because of his mother and because… he’s weird in general. He was no interest in the throne but he’s definitely one of the most ‘gifted’ of them so a lot of his half-siblings either hate him or want him on their side (or both!)

Okay, so for this one, Desmond doesn’t know he’s a Kenway… until Haytham comes to try to save Jennifer.

At that point, Desmond would have been in his early-to-mid 20s (considering Haytham was meant to rescue Jennifer when she was already in her 40s) and things just got much, much more complicated because…

Desmond is also secretly the mentor of the Ottoman Brotherhood by that time, dun dun dun!

Claudia Auditore:

Everyone knows Desmond loves his uncle Ezio. There’s no question about that one.

Claudia is both a stern and a loving mother, trying to emulate Maria Auditore. It’s gotten to the point that Ezio sees how she’s struggling and tells her to be the kind of mother she wants to be. Maria Auditore is a good mother to strive for but she can be whoever she wants. This ends up with Claudia being more playful and a bit of a troll while Desmond was growing up.

Desmond grows up as one of the Brotherhood’s most promising Assassin and his support of his mother is one of the key factors to why she became the mentor after Ezio.

If Desmond was born during AC Brotherhood, he definitely grew up in Rosa in Fiore and the courtesans love him.

Desmond has other siblings and, sometimes, Claudia would tell him he acts a lot like Ezio around his siblings. Desmond just laughs it off and tells him it’s because of how much he spends his time with Ezio while growing up (it’s the Bleeding Effect but sssshhh)

Ezio knows who Desmond truly is but that doesn’t matter to him. To him, Desmond is his most favorite nipote.

Desmond received the Armor and Sword from Ezio when he left for Masyaf and Desmond stayed behind to help his mother.

Desmond is Flavia and Marcello’s favorite cousin and Marcello looks up to him.

Edward Teach/Thatch (Blackbeard):

Okay, so according to history, Edward actually had children after he was pardoned in 1718 but, for this one, it’ll be more interesting if Desmond was a child of Blackbeard during the time he was most active.

So Desmond would be a child from one of Blackbeard’s ‘paid entertainments’ and he took Desmond in when the woman told him that he was his. The crew doesn’t necessarily believe that Desmond is Ed’s biological son but what Blackbeard decides is the law.

So Desmond would start living with the pirates at a young age, maybe too young by many standards and really, Ed isn’t exactly the best parent around.

He is, however, a cunning bastard and that’s what he imparts to Desmond. The life of a pirate isn’t one that’s kind to anyone but Ed is ‘softer’ to Desmond.

He’s still the feared Blackbeard in the eyes of the world. But to Desmond, Ed is a father who tries to teach Desmond everything he can.

Then Ed and Bonnet starts their ‘partnership’ and Bonnet teaches Desmond the things a pirate could not.

In this scenario, Desmond would also be familiar with the other pirates in Nassau. He definitely knew something was up with ‘James Kidd’ but he can’t be sure. He also has a soft spot for Edward Kenway because he knows he’s Ratonhnhaké:ton’s grandfather.

In this case, Ed would probably have a more peaceful ending because Desmond would be there. His piracy would also be less brutal, especially once Desmond takes his place as his quartermaster.

I'm looking at all the "Desmond's sad familial situation" posts here and... Let's fix it a bit, shall we? I mean, insomuch as it's possible in AC 'verse. Potential parental figures for Desmond (cause Isu bullshit, Sage bullshit, time travel shenenigans, etc): Hades, Aita, Sigurd, Hytham, Machiavelli, Shay Cormac

Me at seeing Hades and Aita on the list: ……… yeeaaahhh, they’d probably be better fathers than William Miles.

So let’s tackle each one and see how we can set them up:

Hades:

Hades in AC Odyssey is a dick BUT he does love Persephone. (Persephone though… that’s another story). So, in this setup, let’s say Desmond is Hades and Persephone’s child. Now, they’re commonly known to have two children: Zagreus and Melinoë.

Zagreus would be fun because there are records that state he isn’t Hades’ son but Zeus’ (Tinia) (Melinoë too but that’s because the Orphics believe that Zeus and Hades are the same god). And his death was orchestrated by Hera (Juno) where he was torn to pieces but Athena (Minerva) managed to save his heart which he gave to Zeus. From that heart, Dionysus was born. A little bit of AC Isu-ness sprinkled in this story and we will have an easy “Desmond is actually the Sage of Zagreus” setup instead. Juno had Zagreus killed because Tinia was planning to have Zagreus join them as part of the Capitoline Triad and Juno assumed she was going to be kicked out, not realizing that Tinia’s plan was for him to step down and let Zagreus take over his projects. Minerva (his aunt/half-sister) managed to save his ‘heart’, putting him in a prototype version of the ‘Mead’ and that’s how she changed course in terms of preparing for the Solar Flare. In this scenario, we can also add that Desmond’s main three ancestors (and Edward as well since he died before his grandson was born) were the Sages of Zagreus.

For Melinoë, there are a lot of similarities between her and Hecate. In this setup, Desmond was reborn as Melinoë and she’s Hades and Persephone’s daughter. To make it more interesting, Hades isn’t sure if she’s really his daughter as there are rumors that she might be Zeus’ daughter instead. Because of this, Hades is distant but gives her anything she wants. Persephone doesn’t like her and ignores her so the one person who is actually her usual companion is Hecate. This will setup a more ‘caring aunt that may have an agenda of her own’ Hecate and Desmond/Melinoë relationship.

Another child that is supposed Hades’ (and Persephone’s according to the Orphics) is Macaria. Not much is known to Macaria other than she’s associated with ‘blessed death’ so this is the setup where Hades will be the doting father to her either because he’s sure she’s his daughter or maybe because she looks a lot like Persephone. She can have whatever she wants and can do whatever she wants as long as she does not leave the Underworld.

Regardless of which child Desmond is reborn as, the main plot could probably be: leave the Underworld to find his ancestors who should be in Elysium, maybe pretend to be visiting dear sweet mother.

Aita:

We’re basing this on the idea of him being Aita and Juno’s biological son which we have covered here.

For all the less than savory (to put it mildly) things Juno and Aita have done, they still loved their son as much as an Isu can love their offspring because he’s a product of their love.

So they would definitely spoil him and, really, the only real problem they have with their son is that he tends to be nice to the slaves.

All the while, Desmond is so, so confused by what’s happening and he’s trying to pretend to be a dutiful son because he doesn’t want Juno and Aita to realize something is wrong but this also means that he’s kinda, sorta, enjoying all the affection? It’s a really, really strange complicated feeling, that’s for damn sure.

Sigurd:

Desmond is Sigurd and Randvi’s son that was born after Sigurd left to raid the lands east of their home. He’s really Sigurd’s son and no one disputes that. He would grow up being cared for and loved by the clan, especially Eivor who is both just happy to be with her nephew and also wants Desmond to not feel the loneliness she felt when her parents died.

Then Sigurd returned from his 2-year voyage and he starts spoiling him to make up for the 2 years he had been gone. Desmond both loved and is embarrassed by the attention. He keeps staring at Basim and Hytham because ‘hidden blades! Holy shit, hidden blades! What the fuck!!!’ and everyone assumed that he’s fascinated by them.

Insert a bit of Basim being fatherly with Desmond because he reminds him of his son (and yes, we can overly complicate this and add more soap opera level drama by making Desmond be Fenrir’s Sage as well if you like)

Desmond growing up in Ravensthorpe and being a regular visitor to the Hidden One bureau which will give us big brother!Hytham moments.

Of course, this is Sigurd, and Dag and Basim exist so this will also have Dag telling Sigurd that Eivor is trying to replace him as Desmond’s parent (which is bullshit) and Basim is also being a bit creepy with him because what better way to take his vengeance than to make Sigurd (who he believes is Odin) feel the same pain of losing a cherished son?

Hytham:

Soooo… my EivorxHytham heart wants to make Desmond their child but a more reasonable/believable idea would be that Desmond was born after Eivor left for Vinland for Odin knows why (seriously, fuck you, last chapter) and Desmond’s mother is… let’s say an NPC we’re going to kill during childbirth. XD

This would be more about Desmond growing up as the son of a mentor (red flag right there) and having him compare Hytham to William Miles a lot. Hytham being a single father would also force him to take care of Desmond as much as he can but he will have the support of his acolytes and Assassins.

Desmond would grow up in Ravensthorpe during the changing time in England. But, more importantly, he will grow up in an environment so similar to the Farm but different in all the right ways as well.

If you want to add Eivor in this, Desmond could end up going to Vinland, not to find Eivor but to go to the Grand Temple. Maybe have Eivor see him and go “Hytham?” and they start to become close the longer Desmond stays in Vinland.

Machiavelli:

Well, according to the internet, he did have a lot of children and it seems like none of them are mentioned in his Wikipedia page? I had to get their names from this site

Since Machiavelli married Marietta Corsini in 1502 (no month), the earliest Desmond could be born is on late 1502 (December 21, 1502 perhaps? Hahahaha).

This would mean Desmond would be born during Borgia rule in Roma and be stuck in Firenze which… okay, he understands he can’t do anything to help since he’s a goddamn baby but still… he wants to be with Ezio.

Machiavelli would be strict, especially with Desmond who will be his oldest son. He would also know something is strange about him, especially once Desmond shows his skills even at such a young age.

Also, making Desmond be born around 1502~1503 means he would be too young to accompany Ezio in Constantinople which gives us the excuse of making this Machiavelli-centric instead of, well, Desmond running away as soon as he can to be with Ezio because he’s dumb like that. XD

Shay:

…. We have the perfect storm to make this the angstiest fic we can make by ensuring Desmond is born after Shay becomes a Templar. To be more specific, Desmond is born around the same time as Arno.

And the day Shay kills Charles Dorian, Arno, and Élise had another playmate: Desmond (who just wanted to relax near the tables full of food but Élise is a persistent little girl and Desmond doesn’t really want to be mean to a girl)

Desmond grew up thinking Shay is a wandering Assassin. He definitely looked the part. So when he learned that Shay is actually a Templar, he’s torn. He loves him as a father but, at the same time, he knows that Shay believes in the Templar cause and… He can’t. He just… he can’t.

So runs away once more.

To Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Of course, there’s a lot of eyes on him, thinking this may be a trap or that he’s planning something but Ratonhnhaké:ton accept him. There’s something about him that just… makes Ratonhnhaké:ton trust him.

So, in this scenario, Desmond does have a happy childhood with Shay but he still chooses to be with Ratonhnhaké:ton because, well, Shay being a Templar is a red flag.

Then Ratonhnhaké:ton received a letter from the Parisian Brotherhood requesting his aid because Shay Cormac has taken over the Parisian Rites after the death of its two last Grand Masters.

Desmond joins Ratonhnhaké:ton because he can’t leave Ratonhnhaké:ton’s side and ends up meeting Arno has been become a Master Assassin and have returned from his self-imposed exile after the death of the love of his life.

And Arno remembers Desmond being the child they played with when his father was killed. He and Arno are around the same age so they get paired up for missions a lot and this ends up making things more complicated when Arno later finds out that Desmond is Shay Cormac’s son, the son of the man who killed his father.

Then there’s Shay who thinks Desmond has been misled by the Assasins and is trying to get him back.

Add in the drama and the slap on the face on Shay’s part once he realized that Desmond is loyal to the man who killed Haytham Kenway.

And we have… one of the most convoluted soap opera drama level fic idea… at the moment...

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 03 | myg

part three: four seconds

Summary: If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, but why it seemed like he was following everywhere you went?

<part two | part four>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 11k

—a/note: HERE IT ISSSSSSSS!!! I'm sosososos sorry for taking so long, but it is finally here!! I swear I will try and update monthly from now on, but enjoy this for now!! It has a lot of backstory so I hope you enjoy it. btw these last months I've been going to a poetry workshop so I was on fire writing this (ok maybe not since I took so long to finish it lmao). As always feedback is always welcomed, and if you want to discuss this part in the asks you're welcomed as well!! ilyyyy

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Present 

When Yoongi turned thirteen, your mother promised to bake a Batman cake as a gift for his birthday party. You had a clear memory of sitting at the counter the day before the party as she decorated the cake with yellow icing that tasted like just like bananas, and the next day when Yoongi gave you the first piece of cake you remembered thinking it was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. A few years ago, when Yoongi turned twenty three, you asked him if he remembered the taste of that cake, and, as he smoked what he swore it would be the last cigarette of his life, he said that he did not. At that time you asked him how it was possible that he didn’t remember the taste of some cake your mom made ten years ago, how was it possible that information of such importance had gone unnoticed? Looking back, you could say that it was not Yoongi’s fault, maybe you were the only one holding onto memories and he was as forgetful as everyone else. After all, Yoongi forgot he promised he would quit smoking that very same night, he would smoke his last cigarette only a year later, but even to this day you couldn’t forget the taste of that cake. 

You were just beginning to realize you were condemned to be one of those people who just remembered. Like your aunt, who knew all the birthdays and all the deathdays, all your cousins’ first words, including yours, and was often caught reminiscing every detail of the day she met her husband thirty springs ago. Maybe it was in the family, and it was only a matter of time until you started speaking memories instead of words, so you tried to stop it, but they lived in your mind regardless if you decided to stop mentioning them out loud or not. 

Like the perfume of your granddad that he only wore on Christmas, or the way blood and tears tasted the day you broke your teeth when you were eight and tried to play basketball with Yoongi and Simon but tripped. You sobbed like a baby, but Yoongi hugged you so tight that you forgot you were going to be toothless for the following month. 

You collected the memories, the words, the smell and the taste, you held them close to your heart, stuck in your chest with a stake, forced to remember everything while everyone around you just forgot. And you didn’t complain, you couldn’t,  why would you? Life was like that, happening in front of you as you stood in front of the body length mirror in your mother’s room, as you closed your eyes and tried to remember the yellow icing in Yoongi’s birthday cake, it happened in front of you as you tried to avoid it. You knew you had to stop lingering in the past when all those details, all those colors, and all those memories began to turn against you. Like every January, when your mind reminded you that your body was still stuck in the freezing cold of the morning you decided to leave home four years ago. 

That morning, when you decided to go see Yoongi five days into the new year because he had barely texted you since the last day you saw him, January 2nd, when he received the news from his aunt that his mother had an accident during their trip. You walked to his apartment instead of driving because you didn’t think it was that cold, but you were immediately proven wrong when your hands started to get frozen and your feet began to hurt as you walked in the snow, but that didn’t stop you. He said he was going to be home for a second to grab some stuff and then come back to the hospital, where his mom was, so you were expecting the look of surprise on his face when he saw you at the door, what you weren’t expecting was the way he was hesitating to let you in. You remembered the things he did and the things he said that day like they were engraved in your memory, but mostly the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to run away, from you? from his life? You still didn’t know, all you knew is that after that you had no other option than to turn around and walk away. 

When you thought about it for too long you could still feel the way the snow lingered all the way home in your clothes and hair, how it stayed on the sole of your shoes for the following years, how your tears froze in your cheeks because you refused to wipe them away. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night and could still feel the snow running down your back, making you wonder if winter was still chasing you. 

Inside your body it had been winter for so long that your heart seemed to be completely frozen ever since you left home, only now that you were back you realized that perhaps autumn was not warm enough to heal your heart. 

That was not the last time you saw Yoongi, but you believed it was the last time you decided to talk to him, the last time you allowed yourself to even lay eyes on him. 

You wished you could find peace for at least a moment, but it seemed that you had to work hard for it, it was getting tiring to remember that you were the one who caused the chaos that was your life, and now you were the one who had to fix it: your mother, your brother, Ian and Sally, and even your public image. Doing the last button of your white shirt you asked the universe: why couldn’t those be all your problems? You swore to the man in the sky that if he sent you all your problems in the form of a giant monster you were willing to fight it, only if he could stop you from seeing Yoongi tonight.  

Perhaps you should stay in your mom’s room tonight, not attending dinner was okay, your mom made that clear, but at the same time you were twenty five years old now, you couldn’t keep acting like an angry teenager who decided to skip dinner. You knew that it wasn’t going to make things better, but at least seeing your brother was going to make you feel normal, and that was the only reason you decided to set foot outside the room when you heard the bell ring. 

Four years ago. 

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

You should’ve known that it would be useless to stop thinking about what happened a week ago the minute you woke up in the same bed as Yoongi, but you still tried. You tried, and tried, and tried in countless ways, like for example, when you tried to watch a whole season of The Office in one sitting, or when you listened your mom rant about some turkish drama she was watching, or when Minnie texted a few days ago and you let her talk about that job she mentioned that night until you fell asleep. And then, you agreed to meet her for a coffee and she talked non stop about the same open audition four hours away in the city.

You were not sure if she was beginning to convince you or you were just desperately trying to stop thinking about Yoongi, you thought the only logical explanation for both theories was that you were about to go crazy. 

But if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn’t help but be interested in it. Minnie pitched the job like a gothic dramatic love story, which sounded just like something you would love. She also said it wasn’t a super big play, but it wasn’t small either, and it was pretty well paid. Minnie mentioned she knew the producers and the director and could put on a good word for you. 

“Why don’t you do it, then?” You had asked her, not being sure if you would do the same thing for someone who didn’t talk to you in years. “And why me?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know if it’s my style and… I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave home yet.” She replied with a nostalgic tone in her voice. “And why not you? I don’t know anyone who can pull it off, and you appeared in front of my eyes. Must be a sign.”

You couldn’t understand the first thing, how adamant she was to stay here, as much as you tried to see the world through her eyes, you couldn’t, a few years ago you took the first chance to get out of here and didn’t look back. But sitting there, at the small table next to the window, it wasn’t difficult to tell which one of you two looked more happy (hint: it wasn’t you). Minnie was different, she was still working at The Alley, she loved it there and wasn’t willing to let it go yet. 

The second thing, you couldn’t understand either, but it made sense for her to do it. Being kind was natural for Minnie, she didn’t hold grudges, and you weren’t sure if you deserved that kindness. She waved away all your concerns, your whens and whys and hows, she kept repeating the same words; “it must be a sign”, “it’s clearly meant to be”, and you just laughed and tried to not to think about Yoongi. And it worked for a while, because on the way home you allowed yourself to fantasize about it for at least ten minutes. Moving to the city and working there for weeks and weeks and maybe months or years, and not having to pretend you were someone else. But the minute you entered your house you were reminded of what you were trying to forget. 

The memory kept sneaking in your mind, just like Yoongi sneaked in your bed that night. The image of his hooded eyes, his pink lips and the reminder that nothing really happened kept wandering inside your head.

That night you entered the house giggling like babies and when both of you were changed and ready to sleep you got under the covers, not thinking whether it was right or wrong. And yes, your bed was big enough for you and him, but your arms and legs still slightly touched during the whole night, and when you woke up your feet where tangled with each other, leaving you wondering if you were stupid for thinking something had changed between the two of you, or maybe the way he looked at you when he opened his eyes was just your twisted imagination.

Yes, you were probably crazy when you thought he was looking at you differently when you made him breakfast, like you promised. You were crazy for thinking it felt like you were in a different universe when you sat in the kitchen island the whole morning and then found Nightmare Before Christmas on tv and discussed if it was a Christmas or a Hallowen movie on the couch. 

And then, of course, he left, bringing you back to reality. But then during the week he came back, and then left again, and came back again. You knew you had to kick him out, you knew it was for the best to make up an excuse and say you were busy, but this time he promised to get your car repaired, so you let him take you to his uncle’s garage. 

Yoongi’s uncle was nowhere to be found today, but Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was in charge, although he wasn’t very happy with people being loud while he was working. By the time Namjoon established he didn’t want any of you there at the garage, you had already decided you were staying.

You knew Namjoon ever since he started working with Yoongi’s uncle, he was a tall and big guy with a shy smile, he wore glasses and read books, he was funny and smart and you knew that he had more more than one girl waiting for him to text them back, and for some reason, despite being really handsome, and really cute, and really tall… he was still single. Not that you cared, of course, you were interested in… other people…You still allowed yourself to admire him, like when you watched that Turkish drama with your mom because you were trying not to think of Yoongi and the lead actor helped a lot with it. 

Now you were there, sitting on top of some dirty table next to a bunch of tools you couldn’t name, trying to keep silent when Namjoon scolded you again. 

Yoongi was very good at ignoring him, he pretended he didn’t listen to his friend as he leaned towards you, talking really close to your ear. “Should I give your grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, half joking, half serious. “You know, so she’s in a good mood.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A bottle of klonopin, maybe.” You said, making Namjoon scoff loudly. 

He turned around, now interested in the conversation, looking at you both. “Why do you want to give her grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, confused. One of the reasons why Namjoon didn’t like people talking while he was working was because he was easily distracted, when he was interested in the topic he didn’t seem too annoyed.

Yoongi turned around to face him, deciding his friend was there all of a sudden. “I’m spending Christmas with her family next week.” He explained, being kind enough to forget that Namjoon explicitly told him to shut the fuck up about twenty minutes ago. “But she’s a bit moody.” 

That was one way to describe your grandmother, the other one was to say she was a complete witch.

“Yeah, Yoongi invited himself.” You teased him, instantly feeling one of his fingers digging into your rib, making you jump. 

Namjoon quietly observed the scene like something he wasn’t supposed to watch, with his mouth hung open ready to say something, but his mind was still searching for words. You suspected that Yoongi’s answer left him with more doubts that he had to begin with.  

“Really?” He managed to say, curious. “I didn’t know you two were… like that.” Namjoon cautiously started the sentence, but didn’t dare to finish it in case he was wrong, although the scene you were making was clearly making him believe he was right.

You jumped in your seat, opening your eyes widely as you understood what he was implying. “Oh, no.” You rushed to say, waving your hands in the air. 

“No, not like that.” Yoongi talked at the same time as you, crossing looks as if you were reassuring each other of it. His eyes were as open as yours, shaking his head trying to deny the accusation. “My mom is not here until the first week of January.” He explained, making Namjoon nod, still confused at your nervous reactions. “So I’m alone at Christmas.” 

Yoongi looked at you, giving a look that meant “it makes sense, right?” and yes, of course it made sense. You and Yoongi had spent Christmas together before, he knew your whole family since he was a kid, he grew up with Simon, he was family too, it made sense, but Namjoon’s implication made both of you jump in your seats, talking over each other as you laughed nervously. 

“So all of you three are spending Christmas together?” Namjoon continued to ask, trying to understand the conversation again. “You two and Simon?”

There was a beat of silence in the room, but you were quick to answer. “Simon is spending Christmas with his girlfriend, so we're on our own.” 

Namjoon nodded again, trying not to think too much about it. “So Simon is okay with you keeping all his gifts?” He tried to joke, but the answer only sounded worse. 

You looked at Yoongi, but he was looking at his shoes, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. Neither of you bothered to mention to Simon that you were spending Christmas together, was it really necessary? Why was Namjoon making it sound like it was necessary for him to know? Why did you feel the need to explain to him that it wasn’t weird at all that you were spending Christmas together alone? You weren’t alone after all, there was your mom, and your grandmother, your aunt and some of your cousins too, I mean, you’ll have to share the room, of course, but- wait… You had to share the room. You forgot about that.

Oh my God… Simon couldn’t find out about that. 

You were quick to suppress the thought, agreeing with yourself to handle that matter later, but right now Namjoon was looking at you like he expected an answer. You quickly realized that Namjoon was just as noisy as you. 

“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.” You said, brushing it off, but your mind was already in chaos.

Present 

You were never really interested in astrology, you tried to get into it a few years ago only to understand what Minnie was saying since she talked about it most of the time, but you ended up being too skeptical to believe in anything. You didn’t believe in God, or in astrology and you weren’t even sure if you could call yourself an atheist completely, but you were still curious. Early in life you realized you were agnostic, (you were aware that you sounded like a pretentious man on a first date when you said it out loud), but you still asked every person you met their star signs in case they matched with their personalities, as if you were still trying to prove yourself wrong. 

You didn’t know if the universe was right or wrong, but if you were sure about something, it was that Simon was a Leo. Not only because he was born on the first of August, but because he fitted in every category of a Leo. He was charming and confident, outgoing, he was a natural leader and people always felt drawn to him, making him a little bit… self centered. 

Like every other Leo, Simon loved his birthday, that was the only reason why you were thinking about it. Two months ago, the first of August, you called him on his birthday like every sister calls her brother on his birthday. You could’ve just sent a message like the past year, but your life was already beginning to feel suffocating. Talking to Simon seemed to ease your heart for a while. He wanted to talk to you about his job at the firm and his girlfriend, the cat they adopted, how they were planning to move to a bigger apartment the following year and asked when you thought it was a great time to propose. You needed to feel like something was in place, like your relationship with Simon was normal, like he could tell you anything and you could listen and just laugh. It worked for the first ten minutes, until he inevitably brought up the topic of his birthday party, and he inevitably invited you, and you inevitably had to say no. 

You missed Simon, you missed your mom, you missed your bed and your home, but you weren’t ready to come back, you weren’t ready to see the thousand faces you left behind, you were still hesitant to come back. Now you were there, tense at the end of the stairs because the disappointed tone on his voice lingered in your mind to this day. 

Some voice in your head was telling you that it was what adults do, take responsibility for their actions, seeing people even if you preferred not to see them because that was what grown ups do. You were supposed to be an adult of twenty five years old, even if you felt like you never grew out of that bitter phase only teenagers go through, you were still an adult, so why did you feel like a kid at the end of the stairs, waiting for Simon to lay eyes on you?

Your mom hugged him tightly like she hadn’t seen him in months, and when he pulled away from her grip he noticed you, coming down the stairs as you realized that he, like your mom, wasn’t expecting to see you today.

Simon frowned, surprised, but just a second later a smile took over his face  “Hey, you.” He said, opening his wide arms, offering you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, almost turning around to check if he was talking to another person behind you, but no, he was talking to you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to hug you the same way your mom was hugging him a moment ago. “Is this not my house?” You murmured against the fabric of his blue sweater, feeling your heart hammering against your ribcage as you tried to make a joke.

“Of course it is.” He just said, leaving a kiss on your hair.

Four years ago. 

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve. 

If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, because your mind was not helping at all. 

After leaving his uncle’s garage you should’ve gone home to start thinking a way of telling Yoongi that he couldn’t sleep in the same bedroom as you on Christmas, you needed to think of an excuse for why he should sleep in your grandma’s one thousand year old couch instead of Simon’s empty bed, which was casually right next to yours.

The following step should be to watch some romcom with Heath Ledger and try to forget the way Yoongi rolled up his sleeves when he was pretending to help Namjoon with your car, or at least the way you stared like an idiot for a good moment before snapping out of it. 

He should’ve gone home too, he had no business walking in the same direction as you if his apartment was towards the other end of the street. It didn’t take you long to realize he was following you “for some coffee, since we’re cold”, as he said, already assuming that you didn’t have any plans (he wasn’t wrong).

You didn’t want to chase him away, you were still working on that thing of not being a bitch, and while there was a rational part of you that knew that you were better off not seeing Yoongi, there also was a part of you who couldn’t get enough of him. A better explanation was that you might be a masochist. 

The garage wasn’t far from home, but you were walking fast as if you were trying to lose him in the way.

“Is Namjoon still single?” You wondered out loud, trying to redirect your thoughts somewhere far away from him. At least for now it didn’t seem that difficult, you remembered the sweet smile of Yoongi’s friend and the way he lifted his glasses with his finger up to the bridge of his nose. Was he really shy or was he just faking it so girls thought he was cute? Either way, it was working.

“What?” Yoongi raised his voice, frowning at you. 

You frowned back at him “I asked if Namjoon is still single.” You repeated, but you were sure he heard it right. “How come he’s still single?”

The wind hit your face, so you made yourself small in your jacket, scanning the street for any cars before crossing in the middle of the street. Yoongi followed you without hesitation, running to the other side of the street before you left him behind. 

“Why…?” He yelled, trying to catch up with you, but when he was next to you he lowered his voice “Why do you care?”

The question sounded strange coming out of his lips, but you ignored his tone, turning your head. “I’m curious.” You just said, but he still couldn't shake the strange look on his face. “What?” You pushed his shoulder “Don’t look at me that way.” 

“I’m not looking at you in any way.” He defended himself. 

He was clearly looking at you in some way, you just didn’t know which. You winced, trying to brush it off “I’m just asking…” You murmured “He’s really cute, don’t you think? He works at the garage, he wears glasses, he’s got cute dimples. How is he still single?” 

“It seems like you gave him a good look.” He mumbled under his breath, taking his eyes off you. 

“I’m just a very observant girl.” You argued. “C’mon, you didn’t think about it? I’ve never seen Namjoon with a girl…” You kept wondering, staying silent as Yoongi, for some reason, refused to keep this conversation going. You still didn’t know how Simon and Yoongi were such good friends, Simon always knew everything about everyone, how was it possible that Yoongi refused to even discuss the reason for Namjoon's long singleness? Or maybe Yoongi was keeping the reason as a secret, maybe it was something no one was supposed to know. Suddenly, you connected two and two together, interpreting Yoongi’s reluctance in the most logical way. You gasped “Oh! Or is he…?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a sound of annoyance when he realized you were still talking about the same thing. “No, he’s not gay, Pinky.” He sighed “He’s just not into dating.”

You turned the corner of the street, making Yoongi follow you. “Like my brother?” You asked, remember how everyone said the same thing about Simon. 

He snorted “No, not like your brother.” He said  “Simon was a mess… Namjoon is just a shy guy.”

You arched an eyebrow. That was the lamest excuse ever, it wasn’t enough explanation for you. Maybe Yoongi was right and Namjoon was just-a-shy-guy, or maybe Yoongi didn’t know the real reason why he has been single for years because men never communicate their feelings with each other, maybe Namjoon was dating his first love for years until she broke her heart, making him never want to date again, or maybe… 

“Stop.” He said, interrupting your train of thought. Now it was his turn to push your shoulder “Don’t even think about it.” 

He gave you a warning look, which made you confused for a moment… Wait, what was he thinking? Did Yoongi confuse your nosiness for something else? Did something that you said made him think your intentions were different? … Was he really thinking you were interested in Namjoon? 

You pursed your lips, trying to contain your laugh. You could explain to Yoongi that he misunderstood you and deny every accusation, but something inside you told you that the current scenario was more fun.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” You said, faking innocence, and even if you really weren't he looked at you like he didn’t believe you. 

“Yeah, right.” He huffed “Didn’t sound like that.”

“Really? How did it sound, then?” You teased him “Enlighten me.” 

Yoongi did not say another word after that, refusing to follow your game. You've known him for longer than you could remember —literally, he said he remembered meeting you when he was four and Simon invited him into the house so he could meet his new baby sister, but you had no recall of it—, even so, you had no memory of him ever being mad at you, not even slightly annoyed, so you were a bit confused when his expression remained serious for the rest of the walk home. Was it so bad to show interest in Namjoon?

“Don’t even think about it.” What did that even mean?

Present

You were trying to avoid the memory of Ian’s proposal for weeks now. It was painted in your mind, the excited look on his face, his mom’s ring on his hand, the flowers, the cool white lights, the ringing in your ears that warned you something was wrong. You remembered wondering if he knew that you read all those texts he sent to other women, if he knew how ridiculous everything looked. It still made you cringe when you accidently thought about it. Did he really think you were the same as him?… Weren’t you different? 

Despite being the most embarrassing moment of your life to date, you weren’t trying to hide it, you were planning to tell your family about it when the time was right. Like tonight, for example. You thought you could talk to them about it, that you could have time to explain everything, to apologize for not saying anything, maybe for a couple other things too… But your plan was ruined the moment your mom told you she had planned a dinner in your absence on the same day you arrived.

Now Simon was looking at you like you were thirteen and you got your heart broken for the first time. He rested his elbows on the table you and him just set, sighing. You were aware that the rest of the guests were on their way, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t that difficult since Simon’s thoughts were echoing in the room, making you shift in your seat. Of course Simon already knew about it, you were sure he already read it in some tabloid before you got the chance to tell him first. 

“Stop doing that.” You said, breaking the silence. He didn’t seem surprised, but still narrowed his eyes, trying to play dumb.

“Doing what?” 

You weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, maybe you were just imagining the way he was looking at you: with pity, but it was annoying you, and he knew that, perhaps it was the reaction he was expecting from you. He was laughing five minutes ago, making fun of you when he saw you trip on the step of the entrance to the kitchen like nothing changed between the two of you, but now he was sitting in silence as if he was preparing you to ask you the question. 

You wished Florence, Simon’s girlfriend, were here. She would fill the uncomfortable silences with gossip about the neighbors and ignore the elephant in the room. She was away visiting her family, so instead you were there with him as he tried to play the big brother role, but failed terribly. 

“Are you going to ask me about it?” You asked, not hesitating.

Simon let your question linger in the air, pretending you didn’t just read his mind. There were only a few people you could say you knew like the palm of your hand, one of them was your brother. Even if you spent years separated, you’ve always been as thick as thieves, you still saw right through Simon, and the only problem with that was that he saw right through you as well.

“Are you going to tell the truth?” He calmly asked, enjoying the look on your face when he heard you gasp, offended.

It hurt to know how implicit it was that you hadn’t been honest these past years, it was easy to catch you off guard. While you were out in the world, away from your family, Simon stayed here and visited your mom every sunday and tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t answer any of their messages that week, saying that you were busy working when you really were trying to avoid invitations for the next weekend. It was obvious that Simon was the one that spent more time with your mom, you thought about that the second he used the same tone as her when she was scolding you. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning “Maybe, I can think about it.” You said in the same tone as him. Simon just scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Fine. That was too much to ask for, I guess.” He snarked, mocking you “I have a simpler question… are you okay?” 

Despite his attempt to appear casual and keep bickering, his concern was evident. That question could have felt like a caress to the soul, a sigh of relief, the feeling of home, but instead it felt like Simon had punched you in the stomach, leaving you without air. How easy it was to fight with Simon, how easy would’ve been for you if he didn’t hug you when he saw you thirty minutes ago. It would’ve been less difficult than witnessing his blue eyes showing you mercy. It was clear that he cared for you, but you weren't sure if you deserved it, not from him of all people. 

“Simon…” You murmured, shaking your head. It was an easy question, but difficult to answer knowing this wasn’t the right moment, this wasn’t how you planned things.  

“What?” He questioned, reading your mind “I’m not asking you just because I have to, I’m not waiting for you to lie to me and tell me that you’re alright so I can forget about it, I care.” 

“I know you care.” You breathed out “It’s just…” You sighed, vacillating “Listen… I haven’t- I’m not okay, really… But I can manage. I just feel like this is not the right moment to talk about it.” You looked at the entrance of the door and his sorry eyes followed, understanding what you meant. Simon nodded, but he didn’t stop looking at you like you were a wounded animal.

“That’s fine, I understand.” He murmured “That’s what I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you were going to be okay tonight.” 

“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to talk about myself. We’ll have time for that” You assured him.

“Are you sure?” He continued to question, doubting you. 

You squinted your eyes “Yes, I'm sure, Simon.” You said, annoyed, even if you couldn’t blame him for not trusting your word. “I’m not planning to run away.”

“Not again?” He tried to joke, but you didn’t dare to laugh. 

“I assure you, not again.” You rolled your eyes, hating that that was the image your brother had of you, hating to know that he was right. “You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy now, I’m not a lost puppy.”

He scoffed “Are you not a lost puppy?” He asked “Where are you sleeping tonight?” 

You frowned, offended “Here, of course… I mean, on the couch probably, but here.” You  tried to defend yourself, but you immediately realized that your room was still a mess, and instead of cleaning a bit before dinner, you spent the whole afternoon sleeping. 

His lips curved into a mocking smile, knowing that there wasn’t much difference between you and a lost puppy. “You can sleep at mine.” He offered. 

“I wasn’t asking” You resisted, too proud to say yes right away.

“I know.” He said, and he shushed you to stop you from talking, pretending that it was the end of the discussion.

You shook your head, trying to reject those kind gestures you didn’t deserve. You opened your mouth, willing to keep arguing with your brother until you heard the bell ringing for the second time this evening, making you almost jump in your seat. 

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, announcing that she was getting the door followed by the sound of her noisy shoes making their way to the door. It happened in a matter of seconds, you heard your mom rushing to the hall and opening the door, you heard muffled sounds, mixed voices, your mom greeting the guests while you waited on your chair as Simon turned his head over his shoulder, expectantly observing the entrance of the dining room. 

Then, you heard steps approaching, laughter and chatter, but something else was happening in your head, something that was restricting you from hearing clearly —from thinking clearly—.

You fixed your eyes on the door, wishing no one appeared for as long as they could delay the arrival, but soon your field of vision was occupied by a short woman with curly hair and pearls in her ears. Nari, Yoongi’s mom, watched her step while she supported herself with a cane as she entered the room. Nari was just a few years older than your mom, but since the accident four years ago it has been difficult for her to walk without help, that’s why you and your brother both stood up at the same time to help her get to a seat faster. 

The sound of both of your chairs being pushed back and your brother’s rushed steps filled the room. Simon was quicker than you, he approached Nari, smiling and saying hello as he grabbed one of her hands to help her find a seat. 

You were not hearing anything clearly, but you were sure that Nari was complaining and telling Simon that she did not need any help, but he ignored her as he asked for her coat so he could hang it on the coat rack next to the door. 

You felt clumsy, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with yourself for the next four seconds. Four seconds that could’ve been four years, because when you lifted your gaze you realized you were standing face to face with Yoongi. An older Yoongi, a Yoongi you haven’t seen before, even if you didn’t remember when was the last time you dared to look him in the eyes, you were sure that back then he looked very different than tonight. His hair was longer, it was pushed back like he ran his finger through it, he was dressed like he just got home from work, a white dress shirt, slacks and a long black winter coat. He was dressed like an adult, a version of him that you never met and maybe never will. His gaze met yours the same way everything met you: by accident. He was not expecting to see you tonight, you knew that, now he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him, like he saw a ghost, maybe you were, maybe he was. 

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, and you had exactly one second to prepare for what he was about to say next, but you didn’t. 

“Oh, Pinky.” Two words escaped his lips, tripping over each other as surprise and regret took over his features. He immediately realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but you still couldn’t hear clearly, you weren’t sure if you heard that right. 

The nickname sent a chill down your spine, you couldn’t answer to it, and he knew it. It was like he said some forbidden word to make you freeze in your place. You couldn’t help but feel like the dumbest person on earth. 

You had been thinking the whole afternoon about it, trying to think of ways of looking unbothered when Yoongi showed up tonight, but it took one stupid word for you to stop functioning normally. You wanted to say something, say hi to him and forget that he even dared to call you like that, but you refused to do it. 

“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, your ears were working again. Nari’s high pitched voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look away from her son’s face. It was like she didn’t notice your presence until Yoongi called you by that stupid nickname “I didn’t know you were coming!”

She attempted to stand up again, but you rushed to meet her so she wouldn’t move from her chair to let her pull you into a tight embrace. You took advantage of it, there were no more places to hide in this house, not your mom’s room or behind your brother, so you closed your eyes, hugging her back.

It was only then when you realized how much you missed being hugged like that, you remembered how much you missed such affection. Especially from her, who was always so loving to you, it was a shame that you couldn’t look her son in the eyes. 

You shook those thoughts away, acting like his presence didn’t affect you. “I told my mom!” You explained “But she forgot, can you believe it?”

“She should've told me.” She said, pulling away to cup your face in her hands “I haven’t seen you in so long, angel, you look beautiful!”

“Not as much as you do, Nari, are you wearing makeup?” You tried to joke, making her giggle. 

“No, darling, I don’t need that stuff.” She shook her head. “C’mon, sit next to me, we have to catch up!”

Four years ago 

Seven days before New Year’s Eve. 

There definitely was a logical reason why you and Yoongi were locked in the tiniest closet of your Grandma's enormous house.

The answer was somewhere in your mind, somewhere deep where your brain functioned just fine, somewhere where you weren’t trapped between Yoongi’s body and some shelf that was digging on your shoulder blade. 

You were looking at each other in silence while you heard your name being called from downstairs. The palm of your hand was covering his mouth, preventing him from saying another word and his fist was clenched around your shirt to maintain his balance. You were trying to ignore how his knuckles were digging on the skin of your stomach, or how his chest was pressed against yours or the way his knee was digging in your inner thigh to keep you from crashing against the shelves full of cleaning products. 

You looked at him through your eyelashes, quietly observing how his hair fell on his eyes like a curtain. You took a deep breath, thinking of the reason why you were there in the first place, which was… uhm… uh…

Oh yes! You were hiding. Yes, you were hiding from your grandmother, that was why.

This morning Yoongi showed up at your house to pick you and your mother up in his car.  He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with the name of his college on it. He smiled cheekily as he helped you put your bags in the trunk and you rolled your eyes when he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. Your mother was delighted, not only because she didn’t have to drive for two hours to your grandmother’s house, but also because Yoongi had that effect on everyone… including you. 

Of course your grandmother loved Yoongi as well. Through her eyes, he was like another version of Simon; he was studying the same thing, he was about to graduate just like him, of course she was delighted to welcome Yoongi with open arms. You weren’t saying that you were not welcomed, or that your grandmother didn’t love you, but you were never received the same way. Yes, she hugged you and kissed you and told you she missed you, but that didn’t mean that later on she would not make comments on the way you dressed, or the way you laughed, or whether you should eat another gingerbread cookie or not. 

You could endure all those things, you always did, it was nothing new to you. What you could not endure, howerever, was another second in the presence of your grandmother talking about her neighbor’s daughter. You hardly knew Aria, —the tall and blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that was sitting in the living room next to your grandmother�� but you knew pretty much everything about her since your grandmother insisted on comparing you to her. 

Ever since you were a kid your grandmother liked to compare you to every other girl of your age. You were sure Aria was a nice girl, it wasn’t her fault your grandmother was such a bitch, but you weren’t in the mood to face her today, especially when Simon wasn’t around. You knew she was coming with her family, since your grandma loved to invite the whole neighborhood when the holidays arrived, so when you heard your name being called from downstairs so you would come down and greet the guests, you hid in the nearest room of the house, the cleaning closet towards the end of the hall on the second floor. 

After a few seconds you stopped hearing your mother calling for you, but then you started hearing Yoongi, approaching in the hallway as he was looking for you in the room you were staying in. You quickly opened the door, grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the room with you. 

You resolved that problem, the next step was figuring out how you would get out of the current situation. 

Yoongi gently grabbed your wrist, removing the hand you were using to cover his mouth. “Aren’t you a little dramatic?” He whispered, completely ignoring the short distance that separated your face from his.

Yoongi’s breath smelled like the red wine he was drinking during lunch, and that should send some alert to your mind to warn you that he shouldn't be this close to you, but your brain seemed to be functioning on a different astral plane, and it was pretty much only focused on Yoongi’s lips.

You felt his hand opening to let go of your crumpled shirt, but then he slowly slid it back to your waist, grabbing you gently.

You gulped. 

That seemed completely normal.

“Of course I am.” You whispered back, and you congratulated yourself for being able to speak. “That’s why I am hiding in a closet.”

“And you dragged me with you.” He remarked.

“You were screaming my name, you were going to give me away.” You accused him, digging a finger on his chest.

He nodded, pretending that what you just said made sense “Right, I get it. So… why are you hiding here instead of your room?” He said, emphasizing his words. 

You took a quick look around the tiny dark room that wasn’t made to have two people in it. It smelled like bleach and it was full of brooms and dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hide but it seemed like no one opened this room for the last four weeks, so it was safe. You returned your eyes to his face, biting your bottom lip. “My room wasn’t safe.” You explained, dead serious. “Do you think they stopped looking for me already?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes “You sound like someone is trying to kill you.”

Well, no. No one was trying to kill you, but why did you feel the need to run away as if someone was? 

“No, it’s worse. If they find me I would have to tell everybody that I dropped out of college.” You effused, making him shake his head in disbelief “You are supposed to be here to support me, aren’t you?” You tried to remind him. 

“I am here to support you.” He emphasized. “I am hiding in a closet with you, aren’t I?” You kept silent, knowing he was right. “But you can’t run away from everything, especially if it’s not worth the run, we’ll leave eventually and you’ll forget about your grandma for the rest of the year.”

You sighed, defeated. “I still don’t want to see fucking Aria.”

He scoffed, biting his lip to contain a laugh. “We don’t have to talk to her, we can just say hello and leave.” He said “I mean, but first we have to get out of here.” 

He looked around, signaling the room you were squeezed in. He was right, again, he always was. You knew that it was absurd that you were hiding here in the first place, but something inside you urged you to stay there for a few seconds longer. Now you didn’t know if you wanted to stay there to avoid the guests or because you were getting too comfortable in his arms (you already knew the answer).

You had no idea what was happening in Yoongi’s mind, but you were too busy swimming in the warm brown of his eyes to even care, you were too busy dreaming to be interested in what this meant. 

You must’ve been long gone for a few seconds, because you were only made aware that you’ve been silent for a while when you heard his soft voice.  

“Pinky,” He called for you, pulling you out of the haze of your mind, but the thing that finally snapped you out of it was when you were suddenly caught off guard when you, out of nowhere, felt his hand touching your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers “are we going to stop hiding or not?” He calmly asked, making your heart skip a beat. 

You blinked, feeling your knees getting weak. If you were speechless before, now you have become completely mute. 

What. Was. He. Doing. 

And what was he playing?

You couldn’t miss the way his eyes shined in the dark and how your heart swirled in your chest, becoming small the second you watched a flash of a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. Was he fucking laughing at you?

And why were you standing there with your mouth hung open, racking your brain for something to say? Your mind couldn’t process if he was just playing with you, not right now, not ever. You didn’t know what game he was playing, but you decided you were not letting him win regardless. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. 

“Don’t treat me like a baby…” You said in a low voice, but you didn’t know what you were talking about anymore. Everything stopped making sense the moment you dragged him into this room.

He squeezed your waist, digging his fingers on your skin over your cotton shirt. “But you sound like a baby.” He murmured, leaning over you just enough to make your noses brush with each other. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach, leaving you without air. God, you felt sick. This wasn’t real, this was a product of your imagination, like every single second you spent with Yoongi these last weeks. “Yoongi…” You whispered, trying to warn him, but instead it sounded like you were pleading. You might as well have done both; warning him because if he didn’t stop you would start believing whatever he was doing, and pleading because you were not sure if you could take it. 

He freed himself from your grasp, grazing his thumb along your jaw bone. You couldn’t recall a time, not even in your darkest dreams, where he touched you like that. 

“What?” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. “What are you going to do?”

The room laid in profound silence for a moment, the weight of your heart suffocated you and the urge to answer him, to smack him in the face, to run away, increased in your chest. You held your breath, watching him open his mouth about to say something, but then the room shook when someone knocked on the door like they were about to knock it down, being followed by the strong sound of your mom’s voice, making you jump away from him. 

“Dear, don’t tell me you’re there again.” She yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear, knocking again for good measure. 

Yoongi’s arms fell on each side of his body, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He lifted an eyebrow, ignoring what just happened. “Again, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his chest to keep a proper distance between your body and his “Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, refusing to acknowledge the warm temperature of your face. You hated to see that there was no trace of embarrassment on his features, just pure amusement. Meanwhile, you didn’t need a mirror to know how red your cheeks were. 

Three more knocks. “C’mon, get out there already!” Your mother kept yelling. 

When you finally turned around and opened the door, your mother’s gaze fell upon you, looking at you with everything but surprise. It wasn’t the first time you hid there, you did it a couple times when you were a kid and fought with Simon. Your mother was well aware of your hiding place, you just expected her to think you were too old to be found here again.

The surprise came after, when her eyes caught a sigh of another face in the dark. She knew you were going to be hidden here, what she didn’t expect was to find Yoongi right next to you, maybe way too close to each other. 

Her eyes widened, out of words “Oh, dear,... Yoongi… Uh, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were both here...” The sentence died in your mother’s lips, but you ignored her reaction, you stepped out of the room, fanning yourself with your hand to cool down and storming out of the situation. 

“Sorry, I was dragged into this, Lila.” Yoongi explained, sounding way more composed than you, but the situation didn’t look good for either of you. 

“Well, I can only imagine…”  She said, but you did not miss her undertone. 

You walked back to what was supposed to be your room (and Yoongi’s), leaving both of them behind. 

“Your daughter can be very persuasive.” He continued to explain, his voice following you. 

A low hum of your mom finished the conversation, she left trying to put together what she just saw, and you hurried your pace so you could lock yourself in the room and leave him outside. 

“Pinky!” He exclaimed, stopping you at the door frame. 

You needed a second alone, but he was not willing to give it to you. 

You turned around, exasperated “What!?” You snapped, but he didn’t care one bit. 

“Didn’t you want to get out of here?”

Present

The day Ian came to your apartment to pick up the last box with his things, you finally called your mother to tell her you and him had broken up. You had only told Minnie by then, but it got stuck in your throat for two weeks, ready to be vomited at any moment. 

Your mother always said that it was important to grieve things, to be mad about them, to be sad, to cry about them, otherwise you were going to carry that weight while pretending to be okay until, someday, it would explode in your face in the worst possible way. When you broke up with Ian you patiently waited for the tears, for the pain in your chest, for the sad memories of three years with him to arrive one night at three am. You waited for the grief in your car when some sappy love song started playing, or when you went for the groceries and came face to face with the huge advertisement with his face on it, but it never came. 

You had an affection for Ian that was not easy to understand, but you liked his company, you liked his unconventional jokes, that he was politically incorrect, that he laughed in the worst moments, but you were never sure you loved him, were you a horrible person for that? For not feeling bad, for not crying for him? 

When your mom picked up the phone and you told her why you called, you broke down crying before finishing the sentence, you felt all the emotions stacking up your throat as you sobbed uncontrollably. You soon realized you weren’t crying for Ian, you weren’t crying because you missed him, not even for the proposal, you were crying because you needed a hug from your mom and she was four hours away. 

“Women grieve during the relationship.” Minnie theorized when you told her that you didn’t feel bad for Ian “It’s normal if you don’t miss him.”

Maybe she was right, but maybe you were not grieving your relationship with Ian, but the person you were before leaving home. 

Now that you were there, sitting at the table with the people that have always been your family, you knew that you were supposed to feel at ease, but the anxiety you felt at the thought of someone mentioning the big break up, as Minnie called it, was stronger. You knew everyone knew, and you knew everyone was thinking about it. Everyone but you, because you were a bit too distracted with a certain someone sitting across the table, just in front of you. A certain someone who couldn’t stop crossing looks with you. 

“Aren’t they planning to make a movie about that?” You heard Simon ask, shaking off your thoughts. 

As much as you wished not to be the center of attention, you should’ve known that none of your wishes would come true tonight, because every topic, every question, every comment was being redirected at you and your life in the city. 

You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation, but you were sure they were talking about a play you starred in two years ago, which contained one of your most acclaimed performances. You remembered those days with pure contentment and pride, but you had numerous reasons for not wanting to talk about it.

“So I’ve heard.” You just said, looking at the half eaten portion of lasagna on your plate.

“Shouldn’t you be in it?” Nari asked this time “You were wonderful in that.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Thanks, but if they don’t offer it to me beforehand I would have to audition again. It’s a different process of casting I suppose.” 

You heard almost everyone humming in response, and felt a pair of eyes fixed on the side of your face that you were still trying to ignore. In that moment you decided you would not concede said eyes another single glance tonight, as if you could ever keep your promises. 

“But wouldn’t you like to be in it?” Your mom nonchalantly asked “If it were the same casting, I mean.”

You looked at her for a moment, expecting her to realize what she was asking, but she didn’t. You knew she had no business remembering every play you’ve been in, or every casting, or every detail of the life you decided to never share, but you still waited for a moment, expecting her to remember that in that very same play you ended up killing Ian’s character by stabbing him in the heart. 

Nothing like reality, you thought. 

“Not really.” You chuckled, bitterly “Some things are made to be done just once, it might wear off.” 

You breathed out, thinking that you successfully avoided the topic without having to give any explanations. 

But of course, once again, you were wrong. 

“Oh, sorry, baby.” Your mother backtracked “I forgot you were there with…”

The name died on her throat, immediately knowing that the comment was unnecessary. 

You pursed your lips, shaking your head “It’s fine…” 

The conversation could have followed its course then, you could have changed the topic yourself, you could have perfectly saved the conversation by making something up, but Nari was quicker. 

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry about that, I just heard about it this morning.” She followed your mom, giving you the condolences as if someone just died. “I had no idea.”

“Mom…” You heard Yoongi’s voice echoing in the room as a warning, and without noticing, your gaze landed on him again for a brief moment, immediately breaking your promise. You mentally cursed yourself, taking your eyes off him when he offered an apologetic smile.

Nari looked at him, annoyed at him for scolding her, “I’m just saying, I hope you’re okay, I know it’s not easy.”

“Mom.” Yoongi spoke again, this time more insistent, but his mother paid it no mind. 

“It’s okay.” You said without looking at him “I’m okay, things like this happen.”

You didn’t know what things you were referring to, if the break up, the proposal, the leaked pictures, the fact that your ex boyfriend stabbed you in the back. Things like that did not happened everyday, you weren’t supposed to get used to them, but you acted like you already were. 

She nodded, looking at you with eyes full of concern. “I was so surprised, honestly. Didn’t you want to get married?”

The directness of the question caught you off guard, so you couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. Everyone could sense how invasive and personal was the question, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to tip-toe around you made you smile softly. You loved Nari, and you knew she meant no harm, so, only for now, you decided to answer with the truth. 

“Well, yes, someday.” You quietly professed, the words leaving your mouth like a sigh “But with the right person.”

That was enough to end the conversation, she smiled at you the same way you smiled at her and you could swear she could sense the pain in your heart, not because of Ian, but because of everything else. 

Then, Phil began talking about something else and everyone joined the conversation, too scared of saying something wrong and making you cry, but you were still stuck in the moment. After some minutes, when you felt the ache in your chest increasing, you excused yourself and left the table to exit the house through the back door in the kitchen. 

You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs as you closed the door behind you. You sat at the bench next to Phil’s plants, trying to catch your breath. You were sure you were about to find a home somewhere, you found yourself surrounded by everything that used to feel like it, but you still felt like a foreign person, you still felt like a stranger, a traitor. You couldn’t find the person you were, or the fragments that you didn’t make disappear. 

You weren’t strong enough yet, you understood that now. The wind in your hair reminded you that you still tried, but the lack of air in your lungs just told you how immature you still were. Still, you were mindful none of this would be easy, but you just needed a few seconds to compose yourself and then you could come back to the dining room to finish your lasagna. That sounded just fine. 

When you were about to get up from your seat, you heard it. The creaking sound of the back door opening, you observed the trace of warm light that came from inside, and then, you heard that voice again. 

Inevitably, your eyes met him again, whose head was peeking to verify if you were outside, and when he saw that you were, in fact, there, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone in the cold darkness of the night. What was he doing? 

“You’re here.” Yoongi’s words were accompanied by some misty breath, lingering in the air before disappearing. You lowered your gaze, nervously looking at your feet. ‘You’re here’, he said, and for some reason he sounded relieved. 

You were confused, you didn’t understand why he chose to follow you to the backyard, but he invited himself to stay there, leaning on the wall far enough from you.

“It’s cold here.” He announced, trying to dissipate the tension you were creating by staying silent. 

You nodded your head, agreeing, but you believed you shouldn’t even grant him that. 

Yoongi sighed, “I’m sorry about my mom,” He finally said “I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” You tried not to roll your eyes. Was that was he doing? Playing the role of an advocate? “She didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, she just has no filter.”

“It’s okay, I know.” You murmured under your breath. “It wasn’t her fault, it’s just me.” 

He kept quiet, he didn’t seem too content with that answer but what could he do about it? You both knew it was the only thing you were going to tell him. 

“Fine, but… you shouldn’t be out here… without a coat.” He awkwardly said, making you frown “It’s cold.”

You suppress the urge to punch him in the face, instead, you put your hands between your thighs because he was right, it was cold and you didn’t have a coat on, if you stayed too long outside you were going to get sick. 

“I know it’s cold.” You acknowledged “I’m going inside in a second.” 

You waited patiently for him to leave, expecting those words to be enough for him to leave you alone for a few more seconds, but he didn’t. He stood there, in the other corner of the porch looking at you like he had something else to say. You didn’t care, you wanted to not care, it was meaningless. 

“Are you… I just, uhm… Are you okay?” He stumbled over his words, but you dismissed the way your heart clenched in response. 

“Yoongi…” You groaned, intending to sound annoyed at him, but the name came out of your voice like something intimate, something like a secret, it echoed in the air, resonating with the same tenderness that he pronounced your nickname upon seeing you tonight.

“What? I mean-”

“I’m okay, I’ll be there in an instant.” You interrupted him. He didn’t have another option but to agree. 

He made his way to the door, but lingered in there for a moment. With one hand on the doorknob, he glanced longingly at you as if he was expecting you to stop him. “You can go now.” You rushed him. 

“I know, I know, sorry.” He said, knowing he was caught. “I’m just glad to see you, that's all.” 

Before you even got the chance to curse him, he disappeared through the door like nothing happened, once again. 

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @honsoolgloss @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804

[systemadministratorclu]

Y'all, I just HAD to share this, because holy shit.

A little background first:

I run the drive-thru cash register window at a fast food joint. One of the shittiest jobs there is because some of the rudest/stupidest people on the planet come through the drive-thru, and one must have near superhuman patience to deal with it. That said, there are customers who come regularly and are not hard to deal with at all. And then there are some-very few and far between-that restore your faith in humanity a little every time they come.

This is about one such customer.

This guy comes every day at about the same time with his grandson (6 years old when this started, recently turned 7) and gets the exact same thing every time. To the point where now either I see their car or I hear the guy say his name (whichever happens first) and I'm already ringing them up. Because of this, the kid now thinks I have weirdly specific psychic powers, and has said he prefers coming to the place when I'm there. He's also decided I'm the best employee this place has. The granddad talks to me like I'm a human, they're always smiling and happy to see me (which means a lot in this line of work, let me tell you) and even on my shittiest days, they've managed to make me smile. I genuinely look forward to seeing these people every day.

Recently, grandson was hella excited to tell me he had a birthday coming up. Reminded me every day "my birthday's coming!" as most 6yo kids do.

Maybe I was feeling a little holiday spirit or something, but one day after work, I went to the Dollar Tree near the restaurant. I picked out a kid's birthday card and a Christmas card. I wrote a message in the Christmas one about what I just explained above, thanking them for bringing some joy to my days, because y'know what? People need to hear that shit. Especially in today's world. And I wanted them to know how much this meant to me. I wrote a little joke in the birthday card about not forgetting the day. Then I looked in my wallet, saw I had a $10 and a $1, and stuck the $10 in the birthday card. Addressed the birthday card to the kid and the Christmas one to kid and grandpa. I give the cards to them on their normal drive-thru visit. They are of course surprised (kid starts yelling "thank you" even though he hasn't gotten to open it yet) but thankful. Then the line moves on.

Fast forward to today.

I see the car come in but I don't start ringing the order up, because it's WAY early for them. I give my usual greeting, then I hear a woman's voice, so I think it's someone in the same kind of car. But when she asks "is this Hal?" I then realize it's the kid's mother, whom he has told all about me and who has come through with him before.

I say yes, and she tells me she's not here to order anything, just to see me, since kid and granddad are sick. I tell her to come on to the window, she does, and hands me a card and a nicely wrapped gift. I asked her to tell them hi for me, she said she would and then the line moved.

I got off on lunch break and opened card and gift.

I was not prepared. At all.

This is the gift...

...the card (no writing on the front).....

.....and the typed note inside the card that actually brought tears to my eyes.

......I'm still not over this. I will be thinking about how this went on for OVER HALF A FUCKING YEAR and I had no idea.

This is the kind of stuff that makes this shitty job worth it. People like this....We need more of in this world. I'm going to hold onto that note so when I feel like shit or I don't matter, I can look at it and know there's a kid out there who I am so important to that he got his dad to write a whole-ass letter, to some random stranger he only knows through his son, inviting me to their fucking house. I'm tearing up again as I write this, just thinking about it.

If that doesn't say "you matter", idk what does.

(And yes, I will go at some point, because how can I not? I'm not gonna dash this kid's hopes and make myself look like an enormous asshole. This is the RL version of being handed a toy phone and told it's ringing)

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

I know conceptually that 300 years is plenty of time to forget that the half-vampire son of Dracula was in fact a real person and not an old Belmont legend but when Richter said that he thought Alucard was a myth, my immediate thought was that this was somehow Trevor's fault.

Trevor on his deathbed: Simon, my great-grandson.....listen to me. I need you to tell all your children that Alucard was an old story that I probably made up.

Simon: But Great-Granddad, why? We saw him last week.

Trevor: Alucard's going to go sleep for a bit and I think it would be really funny if he had no idea what was going on when he woke up.

Simon: Ha ha, of course, I love you, Great-Granddad.

[icallhimjoey]

i really loved the magic of joe hanging out in the bookstore, being his anonymous little self, just reading a book in his armchair, happy to be allowed a warm beverage...................... can we have more of him?

jfc stab me where im softest, why dont you Wordcount: 2.1K

---

Little Spoon Reversed

"Please, before you leave," you spoke to Anne who slung an arm into her jean jacket. "Never forget your headphones ever again, please?"

You couldn't finish the question without laughing already. It earned an eye roll from Anne, who then turned to Joe who was sat in his armchair, book in his lap, but eyes on the two of you.

For a short moment Anne gave Joe a look as if to say, this bitch, am I right? But then before she fully committed, she remembered that Joe would likely take your side on this, like he would take your side on... well, anything, basically.

"I'm aware you don't enjoy... people, but–"

"If I can follow your whole conversation about how you enjoy being a little spoon over being a big spoon, you're talking too loud to be allowed on public transport." Anne stated matter of factly.

She stared into space a second and the shuddered. Joe gave you a look of wild concern, smile playing just underneath, and you laughed.

Anne was being Anne and you loved her, and Joe was being Joe and... well.

You liked Joe.

Joe was funny.

Joe made you laugh.

And Joe looked nice. Sat there.

He looked nice sitting there, in your bookstore.

He just... he did.

All soft.

Hair unstyled. Clothes mismatched. Blue of his denim jacket somehow doing something for the colour of his skin.

Nice. Joe looked nice.

The look of him kind of completed the room just by sitting his ass down in your granddad's armchair. You'd make him a coffee in a second. Keep him there for longer.

When Anne turned to look at him, he immediately dropped the facial expression and just gave her a tiny nod. Dryly said, "Nice jacket." which made her notice how they were both wearing a similar one.

Anne scrunched her nose to that, absolutely grossed out by it.

Joe gave you a small smirk that Anne pretended she didn't catch.

"Headphones!" you made big eyes at her, and she dismissed it with a wave of her hand as she turned to leave the store.

Anne's neutral was already negative to begin with, but when she'd walked in that morning, she'd basically carried thunder in her aura and you'd had to stick her in the back to do admin because she couldn't stop going on about her bad morning.

You couldn't take it too seriously though; the reason her morning had been bad was because she had to listen to people talk on a bus.

She was fine.

But Anne was Anne, and after a very ranty first thirty minutes of her shift, throughout the rest of day she would have moments where she'd suddenly shudder, grimace and mutter "Little spoon," under her breath, like it was the most disgusting thing she'd ever heard people talk about in public.

Intimacy? Vile.

You and Joe shared knowing smiles, and Anne already had one foot out the door when Joe called her back.

"Hey, Anne?"

She paused, barely turned her head, and waited for Joe to talk.

"Which one are you?"

Joe saw her frown in confusion, which only made his smirk grow. He was about to piss her off so bad.

"Big spoon or little spoon?"

He was right. You barked a loud laugh as Anne raised her middle finger up at him before the door shut behind her.

"She's so lovely." Joe smiled, and that only made you laugh more as you found your spot behind the counter.

You were never going to tire of how bitchy Joe and Anne could be to each other, all bark no bite.

"She really is." you agreed, laughter turning into a sigh, eyes falling onto clutter left beside the till.

You had work to do; there were piles of books that needed to find their way onto display tables and up onto shelves.

Your eyes flickered from work to Joe, and you noticed he was still looking at you. Sort of dopily staring, still grinning. You liked that denim jacket on him.

Joe looked good.

"What are you reading?"

Joe's eyes lingered on you a moment longer before he fully registered that you'd asked him a question.

"Oh!" he seemed startled by the book in his lap, like he'd forgotten his hands had been holding onto it for the brief moment of distraction. He lifted it up to show you the cover.

You knew what he was reading already, but any excuse for some small talk whilst you sorted through some paperbacks.

"Do you like it?"

"Yea, actually... it's good, it's– it's... relatable? Even though it's not, because none of these things have ever happened to me, but, you know what I mean? Like, I–, I don't know, I get it, I guess... it's... it's just, it's interesting."

Joe stumbled through finding the right words to tell you that, simply, the writing was good, and it made you purse a smile as you sorted through some novels.

"That's good," you stuck a pile of books under an arm. "I'm glad you like it."

"Yea," Joe said, eyes on a page that he then turned, scanning his eyes over the words, but not reading any of them. He was glad he liked it too, but even if the book hadn't been as enjoyable to read as this one was, he still would've enjoyed his time there just the same. It was never about the books for him.

Which was why it was so easy to put it down when he saw you getting ready to climb up a ladder with an armful of them.

He didn't even have to say anything.

Just put his book down on the small sidetable, got up and walked over, hands already held out to take the pile of books from you.

"Sorry," you said, like this was an inconvenience to Joe.

It wasn't.

Joe got to be close to you, fingertips grazing the skin of your arm as he helped you out. Got your hands free so you could actually hold onto the ladder. Safety first.

"I should've maybe done this whilst Anne was still in."

And then he got a close look at your ass as you ascended the ladder just next to him, which wasn't his fault, mind you. You literally hauled it up right into his line of sight.

It had never been about the books for him.

"Are these new ones?" Joe turned his head to read the title of the book on top of the pile before picking it up and handing it to your awaiting open palm.

"No, just ones people take down to have a look at and then leave around. Thanks."

Joe did that a lot.

"Sorry." he said jokingly, taking all blame for the mess.

That made you laugh.

"That's okay. Part of running a bookstore."

It was quiet then for a moment. Just Joe handing you books that you put back into their places. When he passed you the last one, you were about to climb down, but Joe decided he could help for a little longer.

"These ones too?" he rounded the counter like he wasn't allowed to step behind it and pointed at another stack of them.

"Yea," you smiled. "Thanks."

You'd gone well past feeling uncomfortable for accepting a little bit of Joe's help. Joe knew his place when Anne was in, or when there were other customers browsing, but when it was just the two of you inside these shelf-cladded walls, Joe could lend a hand.

You'd tell yourself it was just Joe being nice because you gave him a lot of free coffee.

Joe knew better.

"So, what about you?"

"Hmm?"

You looked down from your spot up on the ladder, and saw how Joe read the title of the book he was about to give you before he outstretched his arm and made eye-contact.

"Big spoon or little spoon?"

Your fingers grazed as you took the book from him and you nearly let a smile escape you, but Joe wasn't smiling and dressed it as casual, but serious question. Like he genuinely wanted to know.

"Um," you pretended to give it a good think. "I'll go for... little spoon I guess."

It helped that you got to faff around with a bunch of paperbacks on a shelf and didn't have to look him in the eye when you asked, "You?"

"Oh," Joe said, frowning like the answer was obvious. "I'm a big fan of both."

This was information that you couldn't Google.

You kind of loved it.

"Yea?"

Another book got passed.

"Oh yea, sometimes, you want to cuddle someone. Other times you want to be cuddled, you know?"

If Anne had still been in, she'd have made a request for someone to shoot her by now.

"Well," you started, feeling brave. "Can I introduce you to," you paused for effect. "Little spoon reversed?"

You were about to reach down for the book Joe was holding up, but he slowly lowered it, staring up at you with big bulging eyes.

"Little spoon what?"

"Reversed." you easily said, smiling and taking a step down to grab the book from Joe's hands.

"Please elaborate." Joe acted like you'd just told him the most shocking piece of information ever.

"It's all in the word. It's being the little spoon," you held up two cupped hands, one turned so the back rested in the other's palm and then turned one, so your palms faced each other. "But reversed."

Joe looked a little mesmerized.

You shrugged and dropped your hands. "Best of both worlds."

"Best of both worlds..." Joe repeated. "Huh."

"You get to hug and be hugged," you said, holding a hand open for another book.

Joe stared into space as he passed it. Thinking.

"Kind of... equal spoons, then," he mused.

"Well, no. Not exactly. There's still a big spoon and a little spoon."

You glanced down and smiled at how Joe seemed to be honestly interested, not at all making fun or being silly about this topic. He was learning.

"Please, elaborate."

"The little spoon is whoever gets to press their face into the neck of the other. Of the big spoon."

Joe's knees nearly gave out at that. It was a crime how casually you'd just said that.

"Yea... no, yea." Joe cleared his throat. "That makes sense."

The bell above the door rang, and you both turned your heads like you'd just been caught doing something you shouldn't be doing. Which was exactly right. Joe didn't work there, you had no business having him help you out like this.

"Good afternoon!" you cheerily exclaimed at the customer that had just walked in, and accepted the last book from Joe's hands.

Joe felt a little silly with how he felt his neck flush at the thought of having you in his bed to cuddle up with. Have your face pressed into the crook of his neck. Or, worse - have his face pressed right into yours.

God.

He was fantasizing about cuddling, getting all hot and bothered.

Was he fourteen years old?

You gave the shelf in front of you a last look before making your way back to the floorboards, ladder held sturdy in place by Joe's hands, and when you were back at eye level, you gave Joe a nod and a smile.

"So...? If you had to choose one?"

Joe tried to hide a smile and looked at his feet for a moment.

"Big spoon or little spooon?"

"I think you've sold me on little spoon reversed."

"Yea?"

"Best of both worlds." Joe said proudly, like he was the one who'd drawn that conclusion himself.

"Hmm. It's a good choice."

"Yea?"

"Yea."

You looked at each other a moment too long, both still with hands on the ladder you were stood next to. In a true moment of weakness, you let your eyes flick down to his neck. To the skin in between the collar of his jacket and, yea all right, so you were imagining it. Like that was your fault. How could you not, exactly?

You saw Joe's throat work as he swallowed, and when your eyes moved back up to meet his, something had changed there.

Maybe Joe shouldn't wear that jacket again, because you felt how your body wanted to sway forward.

Little spoon reversed.

A loud scraping of someone's throat broke the spell.

"Excuse me, um, do you work here?"

Joe smirked just before you pulled your eyes away from him.

Little spoon reversed.

"Yes ma'am, how can I help you?"

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[cartierre]

HOT SAUCE | cn

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU clément novalak x fem!prost!reader (fc: lily-rose depp)

side note: i think i'm going to shorten my smaus because i'm working on multiple projects at the moment but still want to keep my followers fed!

♡ liked by arthur_leclerc, clementnovalak, jamesharveyblair and 51,726 others

y/n_prost low quality pictures, high quality time

view all 1,482 comments

user1 i go into shock everytime i see clem in y/n's posts ⤷ user2 real, i keep forgetting they're dating

user3 y/n is so girl boss and clem is... clem

clementnovalak keep your followers on a leash why am i being bashed in the comments ⤷ y/n_prost they're just overprotective of me <3

user4 clem is forgetting we're ALL dating y/n at this point ⤷ user5 she is my girlfriend (real)

♡ liked by y/n_prost, felipedrugovich, olliebearman and 15,374 others

tagged: y/n_prost

clementnovalak y/n has been my girlfriend of literally nearly a year...

view all 182 comments

user6 bro is fighting in the trenches against y/n's fanbase ⤷ user7 i mean as he should we had her first?

user8 actually gagged he had to pull out proof and you're all still unsatisfied

user9 does anyone actually know how they got together? like they just kind of were dating out of nothing? ⤷ user10 i guess because she hung out a lot around the paddock because of her granddad and all that?

y/n_prost fight or flight mode: activated ⤷ clementnovalak for you i'm pulling out my fists against anyone ⤷ y/n_prost as you should?

♡ liked by y/n_prost, clementnovalak, maxfewtrell and 163,928 others

tagged: y/n_prost, clementnovalak

lando.jpg happy one year to max's and mine biggest achievement!

view all 472 comments

user11 they're so boyfriend and girlfriend

user12 lando the proud dad ⤷ user13 they're literally his children

user14 so adorable lando and max are there for every big moment of their children!

y/n_prost thank you lando and max for forcing clem to ask me out. this anniversary is for you as well! ⤷ clementnovalak i will never hear the end of this`? ⤷ lando.jpg no ⤷ maxfewtrell nope ⤷ y/n_prost never

[delta-piscium]

When Steve and Eddie start dating Wayne pulls Steve aside and is like “I know this sounds odd but you’re gonna have to take him on walks every once in a while.”

And Steve is just like “?? Sir? He is not a dog?”

Wayne gives him a slightly haunted look, muttering “sometimes I wonder,” under his breath before clearing his throat and telling Steve to just trust him on this one. 

Steve thinks this is probably something Wayne had to do when Eddie was a child to get him out of the house but the man is a full-grown adult now, Steve is not gonna walk him.

He kind of forgets about it until one day. Eddie’s been staying at Steve’s for the week and he gets home from work only to find the kitchen absolutely wrecked. He finds Eddie in another room standing in a pile of books. He very slowly approaches him, putting his hands out and making his voice soft and as carefully as he can being like, “Hey, babe, what’s up?”

Eddie whips around, eyes big and wild, rambling almost too fast for Steve to understand. “I needed to make a cake but I didn’t have a recipe so I improvised and that did not work so I went to find a recipe and did you know there are like fifty-year-old medical books here? There are so many descriptions of gross stuff in them.” He waves one of Steve’s granddads old books around and Steve has to lean back to not get smacked by it. 

“Yeah… my granddad was a doctor,” he says all while eyeing him warily. 

His hair is frizzier than usual and he’s about to turn around to grab more books and Steve does not know what this is or what to do? Should he do something? That’s when he remembers what Wayne said about walks and the way he had looked, a bit stressed and disbelieving. It’s about how Steve is feeling right now so he might as well try, right?

So he grabs Eddie, pulling him along towards the door, making up the first excuse he can think of. “Speaking of my granddad, he built a tree-house for me in the woods behind the house, let’s go look.” 

He walks into the woods at the wrong opening, leading them kind of far in before turning around to wander and pretending to look. He finally steers them back to where the tree-house actually is, all in its tiny rotten glory, and right at the edge of the lawn.

“Guess it was closer than I remember,” he says with a shrug as if dragging Eddie around for twenty minutes insisting it was further in is in any way a believable mistake. 

Eddie gives him a look like he’s acting insane, which, okay fair but Eddie did start it. And anyways he looks better now, judgmental as all hell but better.

“Cool,” He eventually says then stomps back inside. 

Eddie spends the rest of the day making fun of Steve for getting lost in the woods where he grew up but he’s not climbing the walls anymore so Steve counts it as a win.

After that he brings Eddie on regular walks, tells him it’s because he doesn’t do sports anymore and needs to move, doesn’t always feel like running and it’s boring going alone. Eddie accepts it easily but also says it’s so weird because Wayne will also drag him along on walks, and, like, what about him attracts these people who need to go on walks all the time and can’t do it alone?

Steve and Wayne have a pact to never tell Eddie, they do not even want to imagine how that would go because Eddie is a drama queen at heart and their system is working (until years later when Steve and Eddie live together hours away and Steve goes on a trip with Robin, he comes back to Eddie on his way to turn their living room into a greenhouse)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

We got to see Crewel’s reaction towards his pup proposing to her mate. So, what would be his reaction to hearing he’s going to be a grandpa to with each suitor. I know he’ll be too happy to have grandpups from Vil or a heart attack with Leona and Silver, since he has to deal with Lillia more.

Yandere Father Crewel’s Reaction to Grandpups 

In general, he’s conflicted between being overwhelmingly joyous and incredibly mortified. His baby now has babies!!! What!? Depending on who’s your baby daddy he’s leaning towards one or the other:

Vil Schoenheit

“Awww such beautiful grandpuppies!”

He’s crying in private 

Both in happiness and in realization of your growth (and his own)

Looking at the twins’ faces makes it easier 

The little bits of your attitude or appearance helps him forget what had to be done to get them

“I’ll look past it for the sake of the pups but this doesn’t make you anymore of her guardian than I.”

“You’re exactly right. I’m simply a fellow protector and compliment to her beauty and happiness. Isn’t it best that we stay on the best of terms in order for us to do our duties effectively?”

“...hmmm…I don’t disagree. So yes let’s work in harmony on her behalf.”

Leona Kingscholar

“Of all the motley–grr! Stop smirking like that! Humble yourself for once in your despicable life!”

Leona’s willingness to spur your father on in his raging only makes it worse

The moment you and your new little one are out of the room 

He’s trying to at least instill a smidge of guilt or fear of him to ensure Crewel is given due respect as your father

But Leona will never submit and he’s intent on making your father explode before giving the old man peace

“Baba, why is Babu so red?”

“Oh? It’s cause he’s trying to push out a poop. You know what that’s like right? You should go comfort him.”

“Right! *runs to Crewel* Babu! Its okay you can let it all out whenever you’re ready!”

“T-thanks pup.”

He’s promises to kill Leona for embarrassing him in front of his grandpup

Silver

“Whooo already?! I’m so proud! Now when will we be getting the next batch!?”

“On the spots of a dalmatian please don’t…I can’t take it anymore!”

Don’t get him wrong he loves his grandpuppies 

But he’s just exhausted 

If his hair wasn’t white already it would become so very soon

The stress of having to give you away 

Only to be succeeded by the existence of his little grandpuppies

All the while having to deal with his ‘Granddad Best Buddy’ that has attached himself to his side

He’s just so fed up he doesn’t have time to directly hate on Silver

Who doesn’t always understand his malice anyway

So instead he’ll curse the fae general in his stead

But he’s just screaming into the void because Lilia lovingly ignores any protest he has

“Can’t you understand?! I don’t wish to spend the day with you or your child, I just want to spend the day with my daughter and grandpups!”

“Ahh so you want to let the two love-birds have a night to themselves? What a great idea! Will take the kiddies for the day! Oooh where should we go? The amusement park? The park? Your house-?”

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo”

[paverics]

what the fuck is going on. my nan just asked me the 800th time when i’m getting a boyfriend and then ended it with “or a girl! i don’t care”

i’ve never been asked in such an obvious way whether or not i’m gay as i was today at work 😭

“what about you, paige? hmm? have you got a partner?”

“oh, no. no, I don’t.”

“ah ok. so…um, errr, what’s like…what’s your preference?”

“my preference?”

“yeah”

“in what sense? what do you mean by preference”

“well, you know, like if you were with somebody. a person. what would they be like? what’s your type?”

“just peace and quiet, to be honest.”

[steddieasitgoes]

Steve’s maternal grandfather was a classically trained pianist. He traveled all over the world as a concert pianist before retiring around the time Steve was born. He takes a job as a church pianist and buys Steve a baby grand piano so he can teach his only grandson how to play. Steve learns how to play piano and read music before he learns how to read books.

His grandfather dies when Steve is 9, and his mom gets upset whenever she hears Steve playing, because it reminds her of her dad, who chose the piano over her most of her life. So, Steve stops playing, not wanting to upset his mom. She tried to sell the piano, but no one in Hawkins is interested, so it stays covered with a bedsheet and locked away in the former music room.

Steve picks it up again when his parents start fighting and his mom starts going on business trips with his dad. He finds himself spending long nights at the penchant, fingers dancing across the ivory keys. He’s rusty at first, but playing the piano is a lot like riding a bike — you never really forget.

He keeps his talent a secret, though. Keeps the piano locked away in the old music room when Robin and the Party is over and doesn't let them down that hallway. Likes that he has something for himself, though he does have moments where he wishes he could share his talent with his found family.

Eddie’s the first person he tells.

They’re hanging out together in Steve’s living room. Eddie’s got his acoustic slung across his lap. Fingers moving up and down the frets. His brows are furrowed, and his lip is tugged between his teeth. He’s been stuck on the same melody for days now and Steve offered up his place, hoping a change in scenary would rid him of his music block.

It hasn’t.

“Jesus H. Christ” Eddie swears, gently moving the acoustic to the side. He throws the rest of his body down on the rug.

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Ed’s. It sounds great.”

“You’re just saying that cause it’s not loud and obnoxious.”

“It is different than your usual sound,” Steve hums, gently guiding himself from the couch down to the floor next to Eddie.

“Jeff wrote a love song for this girl he’s seeing. But he's always sucked at the music part, so I said I’d give it a shot.” Eddie says, raising his arms in the air in front of his face. He starts to fiddle with the large skull ring on his finger. “I think the melody would sound better on a piano but none of us can play so, my acoustic will have to do.”

Steve's not sure why he does what he does next. Maybe it's because Eddie is right, and the song would sound better with a piano, or maybe it's because he'd move the moon and starts to make Eddie Munson smile. Whatever the case, Steve stands. Offers Eddie a hand and hoists him with him.

He starts walking down the hallway towards the room no one even knows exists. Eddie hot on his heels.

"Don't tell me you've been hiding a secret sex dungeon," Eddie teases as Steve raises to his tiptoes to grab the key hidden on the top of the door frame.

"If I had a secret sex dungeon, don't you think I'd have shown it to you by now?" Steve asks, hip-checking Eddie out of the way so he can get to the door knob.

"Fair point," Eddie says.

Steve can tell he's about to say something else, when the door clicks open. The baby grand is still covered with a white bedsheet, but it's easy to make it out. Especially for a music expert like Eddie.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, slowly moving closer to the center of the room as if he's going to startle the piano. "Is that what I think it is?"

Steve nods and begins rolling up the bedsheet exposing the beautiful black, shiny baby grand piano. He tosses the sheet aside and takes a seat at the bench. Carefully lifts the keyboard cover and pats the bench next to him. Eddie joins instantly.

"You can play?" Eddie asks as Steve's fingers start moving across the keys. He starts with something simple, the melody to "Twinkle Twinkle," before moving on to one of the formal pieces his granddad taught him. Eddie sits motionless, eyes darting between Steve's profile and his fingers dancing across the keys. When Steve stops, Eddie lets out a gasping breath. Playfully bumps his shoulder with Steve's. "You son of a bitch! You have been holding out on me!"

"Maybe a little," Steve chuckles. "But not about having a sex dungeon."

"You sure about that?" Eddie says, moving in closer. He rests his head on Steve's shoulder and angles his face so his lips are right next to Steve's ear. "I hear sex on a piano is pretty amazing."

Steve blushes, feels the butterflies fluttering in his gut. He laughs, shrugging Eddie off his shoulder. Playful. Bashful. "Come on, we've got a song to write."

Eddie looks at Steve, even more bewildered than before. This time Steve meets his gaze, takes in Eddie's woofish smile that he's trying to hide behind a strand of hair and his blown pupils.

"You really are my wildest dreams come true," Eddie moans, stealing a kiss. It's a quick but passionate. A reminder that they're not done yet. "Alright, let's get this song done so we can really break this piano in after."

[bluemantics]

hii, do you have any fantasy fic recs?? (btw i loved midnight snacks don't exist in space!!)

OMG thank you so much!! sometimes i forget people actually read the stuff i post lmfao <3

Here are some fantasy fic recs!

1. Take my hand (we’ll dive into the sea) by noblegambit

Mermaid AU | T+ | 5.3K

A mer has four gifts for humanity.

The tear of a mermaid gifts strength. The scale of a mermaid gifts invulnerability. The kiss of a mermaid gifts breath underwater. The heart of a mermaid gifts long life. If one possess all four? No one knows, for no one has ever possessed the heart of a mermaid.

2. til we meet the dawn by angstinspace

Knight AU | T+ | 75K

Keith is a mage and Lance is a knight, and they've been best friends since childhood. For years, Keith has known that Lance carries a dark secret: that if he doesn't kiss his true love before he turns twenty, he'll die.

Now only three days remain before Lance's twentieth birthday, and Keith and Lance are sent on a dangerous quest to rescue Romelle––who Lance believes will be the one to break his curse. ... But what he doesn't know is that Keith is already hopelessly in love with him.

3. I have crossed the horizon to find you by somethingmorecreative

Mage/Familiar AU | M | 36K

onight, The Wicked Nightshade was filled with a vibrant crowd, rowdy, loud, and buzzing in excitement at what was to come.

The Bonding was tomorrow, and New Altea was ready for it.

Keith Kogane, on the other hand, was not.

4. you build your tower (but call me home) by parchmints

Curse AU | T+ | 63K

In the land of Arus, the youngest Nalquodian prince—Prince Leandro—is hidden away in a little castle that overlooks the kingdom; a countermeasure to protect him from the Galran assassins that have sworn to take his life.

And in the tallest tower of the castle, behind a grimy rose window and under a dusty sheet, is an enchanting gargoyle that the prince finds himself compelled to visit every day.

Almost as if by a spell...

5. a warlock and a djinni fall into a rift by bwyn

Urban Fantasy AU | G | 6.2K

“You planning on explaining what’s going on here?” Keith returns, thankfully now standing so that he’s blocking some of the sun in Lance’s eyes. “Or were you just going to leave again? Without warning? Without contact?”

Lance smiles as though the words aren't a punch to his gut. Really, he should’ve predicted this, but…

“Could you at least let me sit up? My head isn’t busting through dimensions, right?”

Keith’s lip curls, but he waves a finger tipped purple with ink, and Lance feels the chains slide free from his neck, arms and chest.

6. breathless by zxrysky

Mermaid AU | 6.3K | T+

"You shouldn't go out to the sea at night," their grandmother says. She's in a rocking chair, old and creaky, her withered body settled with a shawl around her shoulders, wrinkled fingers gripping the edges of the arm rest. "Don't risk it."

"Risk what?" Shiro asks, eyes wide. He's fourteen, just a young boy, on the cusp of maturity, arms wrapped around his younger brother as they sit before their grandmother.

His grandmother pauses for a while. "There is danger in the sea."

7. steal the air from my lungs by zxrysky

Siren AU | T+ | 10K

“Read the news,” his grandma told him with something sad in her eyes, and passed him the newspapers lying on the table. She lifted him on her lap and turned the page, flipped through the black and white words until it landed on a picture of the ocean, wide and blue, stretching out far into the horizon.

“Missing people at sea,” Lance read out dutifully, and his eyes grew big. “They don’t come back?” He asked in a small voice. He couldn’t imagine- he couldn’t imagine just leaving. He couldn’t imagine going missing. He thought of James, barely two, holding on to Lance’s hands as he toddled along the ground, and shuddered.

“They don't, baby. These missing people at sea, they don’t ever come back.” His grandma looked old and tired, and Lance abruptly thought of his granddad, lost at sea long before Lance came into the world, and all that was left was this huge house.

8. Siren's Call by wittyy_name

Siren AU | M | 21.6K

The once bloody war between man and siren has come to a tremulous truce once the siren prince had been captured. The people of Altea retreated, and mankind was once more free to roam the sea. Shackled and locked away within a mountain cavern, the prince watches, and he waits. Biding his time.

Keith has never truly fit in, no matter how much he’s tried. Ever since Shiro found him, wild and alone in the northern mountains, something has burned deep inside him, something dangerous and terrifying. A simmering need for something more. To protect those he loves. To tear apart those who hide behind falsities and carefully sculpted smiles. Those who hide behind laws of their own creation.

Two beasts, shackled and bound, each in their own way. Keys to each other’s freedom.

9. It Never Rains on Saturday by TheLegendOfChel

Demon AU | T+ | 22K

In the magical kingdom of Altea lies an ominous tower filled with monsters. Every day, adventurers battle through the tower’s levels in a never-ending quest to slay the Demon King who lives at the very top.

Lance, a talented archer, is one such adventurer. However, Lance doesn’t want to kill the Demon King.

Lance wants to marry him.

10. The Fallen and the Wandering by creeshtar

Gen Fantasy | T+ | 106K

Keith was born into a world of ice and darkness, with no sun to rise or stars to shine. In spite of humanity’s best efforts, the world is meeting a slow, but certain doom, which can only be stopped if the sun is found and replaced in the sky. Keith, meanwhile, is content to collect stars and eventually replace them in the sky, alongside a new partner that he can’t seem to help but gravitate towards--until a mysterious person with inhuman power goes on a warpath to find the sun for herself. Keith and his partner are unwittingly thrown into the race to find the sun first, only for Keith to discover, to his dismay, that it may be closer than he could’ve ever wanted.

I lovvvee fantasy aus! Thanks for the ask <3

[smiley-star]

Older and Wiser

Leo keeps making fun of his future self (Leonardo) but he forgets one important detail; that's him. He knows all his weaknesses, and is ready for payback.

(Tickling, sfw as always, Tce$t and feti$h ppl DNI!!!)

(Also I like the father-son relationship there could be btwn Future and present Leo)

Lee: Leo💙

Ler: Future Leo💙

“Are those wrinkles a part of your look too?” Leo laughed, pointing at the lines on Leonardo's forehead.

“You try living through an apocalypse,” Leonardo sighed, rolling his eyes for the millionth time.

“At least I won't lose my good looks,” Leo snarked, posing, “Maybe we should call you Grandpa instead of Leonardo!”

“No.”

“Maybe gramps?”

“No.”

“Granddad!”

“No!”

“I got it!” Leo yelled, snapping his fingers, “Peepaw!”

“THAT'S IT-!” Leonardo exclaimed, standing up with a grunt that started the old man jokes again and marched over to Leo.

“You sure your hip didn't break when you got up- EEEP!” Leo shrieked as Leonardo lifted him up and promptly carried him to his room. The massive train car Donnie had to custom build to fit his hulking figure.

“What, gonna tell me stories about your youth?” Leo laughed as Leonardo threw him in the bed.

“You've forgotten one fatal detail, kid,” Leonardo said, an evil grin spreading across his face.

“And what's that?” Leo said snarkily, but he gulped nervously.

“I am you,” Leonardo said, diving down and beginning to mercilessly tickle Leo's sides.

“WAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT!” Leo shrieked, laughing hysterically and kicking at Leonardo, who merely laughed and didn't react at all.

“NAHAAHHAAH- STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Leo squealed, thrashing as Leonardo tickled his sides.

“No can do, kiddo,” Leonardo teased, grabbing Leo's hands in his prosthetic and lifting them above his head.

Leo squealed as Leonardo tickled his tummy relentlessly, wiggling his fingers and tracing along the lines in his plastron.

“WHAHAHAHAHAT-!?” Leo shrieked as the wiggling fingers traced along the lines of his plastron. None of his brothers had ever done that before! It tickled so much!

Leonardo laughed, “Figured that out a few years ago!”

Leo squealed as Leonardo's massive hand began tickling at his upper thigh, right where it met his plastron. Again- another thing that had never happened before.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!” Leo shrieked with laughter, kicking his legs at the new sensation of his thigh and plastron being tickled.

“That one was when I was younger,” Leonardo laughed.

“YOOHOHOHOHOU- WEHEHEHERE NEHEEVEEVEE YOHOHOHOUNG PEEHEHEHEPAW!” Leo squealed.

“Oh you're asking for it now!” Leonardo laughed, leaning down.

“WAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT!” Leo shrieked as Leonardo blew a mercilessly raspberry on his plastron just above his side, he thrashed as the tickling raspberry didn't stop.

“TOHOHOHOO MUHUHUHHCH!” Leo squealed as Leonardo finally pulled away.

“We can hold our breath for a long time,” Leonardo chuckled, “Perfect for raspberries.” He immediately blew another merciless raspberry but this time on Leo's tummy.

Leo shrieked as the raspberry continued mercilessly, and then Leonardo finally pulled away, only to immediately start tickling his tummy again.

His hand was so big it went the entire expanse of his tummy, making the tickling even worse.

“Tickle tickle tickle!” Leonardo cooed, making Leo shriek.

“NAHAHAHAHT YOHOHOHOHOU TOOHOHOHOH!” Leo squealed, thrashing and cackling.

“Yes me too!” Leonardo laughed, “Tickle tickle, Little Blue! I wemember how ticklish my wittle tummy was!”

“STAHAHAHAP!” Leo shrieked, laughing loudly and throwing his head back as Leonardo tickled at his tummy harder. His fingers wiggling across his plastron mercilessly.

“What's the magic word?”

“PLEHEHEHEASE!”

“And?”

“SOHOHOHOHORRY!”

“That's better,” Leonardo laughed, leaning down and blowing raspberries and nibbling at Leo's tummy.

“I SAHAHAHAIAD SOHOHOHOHORRY!”

“But I'm hungry!” Leonardo laughed, nibbling at Leo's tummy and making him shriek as he tickled at his sides, “And I wemember how much nibbles tickled my ticklish wittle tummy!”

“OOOYAHAHAHAAJJJJJIIII-!” Leo shrieked without meaning to, making Leonardo’s face light up.

“‘Oyaji’ huh!?” Leonardo beamed, blowing another raspberry and making Leo shriek, “I don't mind being a Dad again!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA- NAHAHAHA! I DIHIHIHIHIDN’T SAY AHAHAHA THAHAHAHAT!” Leo squealed, face turning completely red in embarrassment. Because there was no way he'd call his future self oyaji. (Means father in Japanese)

“Yes you did!” Leonardo laughed, his entire being lit up in joy, “Your Oyaji is right here, Little Blue!”

“NOHOHOHO!” Leo squealed as Leonardo began blowing rapsberries on and nibbling at his tummy again, his other hand tickling all the sensitive spots on his sides harder, “OYA- HAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOH! I MEEHEHEHEAN LEONAHAHAHARDO!”

“I'm not Leonardo, I'm Oyaji, remember?” Leonardo laughed, tickling Leo's tummy again, “Come on! Say it!”

“NAHAHAHAHAT HAHAHAHAPPENING!” Leo shrieked.

“Then I'll just tickle it out of you again!” Leonardo laughed, “I got a great idea!”

He unwrapped his scarf, using it to tie Leo's hands above his head and onto the bedframe.

He watched Leo's eyes go wide with fear and anticipation as both of Leonardo's hands were free now. And one was much larger than the other.

“Whehehe- we can talk about thihiHIHIHIS!” Leo shrieked as both hands started mercilessly tickling his sides, the prosthetic hand was huge and pretty much engulfed his entire side with tickles.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA- AHH HAHAHAHAHA! LEEHHEHEHEEHEHOOHOHOHNAAHHAHAHRDOOHHOHOHO!” Leo shrieked.

“Wrong name!” Leonardo cooed, “C'mon! Tickle tickle, little Blue~!”

“NAHAHAHAHA!’ Leo squealed as Leonardo stated blowing raspberries on his ribs, tickling his tummy with his real hand and his side with the prosthetic.

“Just say it!” Leonardo laughed, blowing a mercilessly raspberry.

“NEHEHEHEHEHEVER!”

“You asked for this!” Leonardo warned, grinning as he leaned down to one of Leo's most sensitive spots on his side.

“WHAHAHAHAHAIT-” Leo's protest was cut off by a loud shriek of laughter as Leonardo blew the most ticklish, evil raspberry Leo had ever felt on it.

“OOOYAHAHAHAAJI, NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!” Leo shrieked as Leonardo went back to tickling his tummy with both hands.

“Of course, Musuko.” Leonardo teased, tickling Leo's tummy harder before finally pulling away. (Musuko means son in Japanese)

Leonardo freed Leo's hands from the scarf, and the teen rolled on his side, giggling as he wrapped his arms around himself.

Leonardo chuckled, giving him a bottle of water. Eventually Leo calmed down, leaning against the older version of himself as he sipped at his water.

“So Oyaji, huh?”

“SHUT UP!” Leo shrieked, face red from embarrassment.

"I finally understand why our brothers liked tickling us so much."

[r-truth]

i love my grandmother's and my dad's relationship like. the other day my grandma got sick and my dad was ready to grab the car and make a 1h trip to my grandma's house at 3am, whole relationship w my mom be damned

my maternal grandmother: remind me to call [insert my father's name] for his birthday after i take a nap. good bye

my mom, who absolutely can't see me father eye to eye but has to bear with her own mother missing my dad's jokes everyday: ok