#put him on the shelf with a blanket and cocoa

[pandagirl45]

Tony would totally play elden ring. Why? No reason. I think it's amusing to think about Tony playing and modding games.

Like he would talk about the original demon souls and just infodump on it. He be the one to try to beat ghost and ghouls.

Something. Something. Gamer Tony.

Let see, my personal headcanos, relating and not relating to the Canon stuff

Tony with extremis eyes can go arc reactor blue and sometimes orange due to magic silliness

Tony is a gamer

Tony is a goth

Tony is cat coded, lioness coded, tiger coded, humming bird, and my personal favorite a lion and lynx mix

Tony as mythological creatures ranges from dyrads to dragons. Dyrad, fire elemental/fairy, dragon, and werecat

If he was a wizard, he'd be close to nature and technology

Tony is ploygot

For me, my au Tony is demisexual and biromantic (other aus, I leave up for the reader)

I like having butterfingers, dume and u and call them the triplets. Jarvis is the "eldest". Vision and Ultron are the youngest

Tony definitely try to repress a lot of himself due to childhood trauma and fears.

My au Tony hides his scars. Arms, back of thighs, and back.

Tony is definitely sicilian/lybian and American (howard side)

He did look up to steve but he likes the underdog more (because I'm trash and I ship winteriron. Plus I think he would happily choose bucky just to irk howard off)

He straightens his hair before style it (naturally curl, 4C, yadda yadda)

Tony pairings I find cute or I actively ship, winteriron of course, stony, pepperony, t'challa and Tony (I see it), clint and tony (platonically), thor and Tony, and that's about it for now. (I guess rhodey and Tony, but also platonic, familial love)

If he has human kids, morgan is the only biological one, Harley adopted (if his mom is alive, then tony is a mentor), Peter, same as harley, miles, same as harley. Anna Marie (rogue), why? Because I think it'd be amazing to see Tony and Rogue just grow together. Tony getting the avengers to help her understand and work with her powers. Especially if tony has extremis, (yes I know that is weird but work with me), and she let's go of the abilities and act. All them and the bots, Tony is a mother hen.

Tony doesn't actively seek to have kids or get married, if it happens and he finds himself feeling safe and comfortable so be it.

I got this from the Fandom and hearing the about the food hiding on set of rdj adventures. Blueberries are his favorite fruit. Veggies I want to say a squash variant. Dish, many.

He can cook and bake but he just refuses too. When he bakes, he makes the thing dessert into something else, on accident.

He can dance, play piano, and sing (Maria. Don't tell me Maria and her side of the family wasn't at least musically inclined).

These are headcanons because I like them. I think they are amusing or add something to his already very interesting and independent character. Little things I suppose. I can do one for steve. I have plenty for him.

[yoonjoongles]

The Sweater - Two

-> Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Y/n

-> Summary: After a stormy night together, Y/n and Cheol share cozy moments over hot chocolate and cuddles with Cheol's dog, Kkuma, after waking up to a peaceful morning filled with love.

-> Word count: 1250

-> Part 1

  read on ao3

As the storm continued outside, the movie playing came to an end, filling the room with the soft hum of the TV and the occasional crack of thunder. Y/n and Seungcheol sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of their closeness making the howling wind seem distant and unimportant. Kkuma laid curled up at their feet, her presence adding an extra layer of warmth to the cozy scene.

Seungcheol shifted slightly, drawing his lover’s attention. He turned to face her, his eyes shining with affection. “How about we make some hot chocolate?” he suggested with a smile tugging at his lips.

He watched as Y/n’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “That sounds perfect. I’ll get the cocoa and marshmallows while you grab the mugs and the milk?”

Without waiting for a reply, they disentangled themselves from the blanket, and Y/n very reluctantly slipped out of Seungcheol’s cozy sweater as to not get it dirty in the kitchen. She carefully folded it and set it aside, silently promising herself she’d put it back on once they settled on the couch again. Kkuma followed them to the kitchen, her tail wagging happily Together, they moved to the large kitchen of Seungcheol’s apartment, working in tandem with an ease that clearly spoke of their growing connection.

As Seungcheol heated the milk on the stove, Y/n rummaged through the cabinets for the cocoa and marshmallows. She quickly managed to find the cocoa but had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the bag of fluffy marshmallows on the top shelf. Seungcheol chuckled lightly as he noticed her struggle and stepped in, easily grabbing the bag and handing it to her.

“Thanks,” Y/n said, smiling up at him.

“No problem,” he replied, leaning down to plant a quick gentle kiss on her forehead. “Teamwork, right?”

She grinned. “That’s right.”

With the milk warmed, they mixed in the cocoa and poured the steaming liquid into two large mugs. Y/n topped them off with a generous handful of marshmallows, watching as they began to melt not the rich chocolate. The couple returned to the living room, mugs in hand, and settled back onto the couch, wrapping the blanket around them once more, while Kkuma hopped onto the couch and snuggled between them, content to be part of the warm cocoon. After settling down, Y/n pulled her boyfriend’s sweater back over her head, savoring its warmth and the comforting scent that lingered.

For a while the two sipped their hot chocolate in silence, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together after a week of working hard and barely seeing each other in the process. The storm seemed to be calming outside, the thunder growing distant and the rain turning into a gentle patter against the windows.

Y/n leaned her head on Seungcheol’s shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t known in a long time. “This is nice,” she murmured. “I could get used to this.”

Seungcheol tightened his arm around her, his thumb moving to trace comforting circles on her arm. “Me too. I love having you here.”

She tilted her head to be able to look up at him, her heart swelling in her chest at the tenderness she found in his eyes. “I love being here.”

He grinned, leaning down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers. “How about we make this a regular thing? Hot chocolate, stormy nights, my sweater, Kkuma of course, you and I?”

As the last of the storm faded in the night, they sat together, wrapped in each other and the promise of many more nights like this to come. Kkuma yawned and nestled closer to them, a content sigh escaping her.

The next morning dawned clear and bright, the storm having left behind a fresh feeling in the air. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, gently waking Y/n before Seungcheol. She stretched lazily, feeling the cozy weight of his sweater still around her body. Kkuma was already awake, wagging her tail happily as she realized Y/n was getting up.

Careful not to disturb him, Y/n slipped out of bed and padded her way to the kitchen to get started on making some coffee. As she waited for the pot to brew, she took a moment to glance around Seungcheol’s apartment, her gaze softening at the familiar sight, and she realized how at home she felt there. Every small detail, from the mismatched mugs to the several picture frames hanging on the walls containing photos of the SEVENTEEN members, Seungcheol’s family and even some of the two of them together from the time when the two were still only friends, spoke of Seungcheol’s personality and their growing bond.

The coffee maker beeped, and Y/n poured two cups, adding just the right amount of sugar to Seungcheol’s, before carrying them back to the bedroom, the scent of fresh coffee filling the air. Seungcheol was stirring, his hair adorably tousled, and his eyes opened to find her standing there with a warm smile on her face and two steaming mugs.

“Good morning,” she said softly, as if scared to break the comfortable atmosphere in the room, before handing him his coffee.

“Good morning,” he replied, sitting up and accepting the mug. He took a sip, sighing contentedly. “You make the best coffee.”

Y/n laughed, settling back into bed beside him. “It’s just coffee, Cheol.”

“Not when you make it,” he insisted, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close.

They sat against the headboard, enjoying their coffee and the quiet morning for a while. Kkuma jumped onto the bed, nuzzling between them and making them both laugh. Eventually, Seungcheol broke the silence. “I was thinking,” he began, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“About what?” Y/n asked, looking at him.

“Well,” he said, setting his mug down on the bedside table and turning to face her fully, “I’m always so happy with you here, and last night, despite the storm, felt so right. I was wondering…how would you feel about staying more often? Maybe…permanently?”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected this so soon, after all they had just been dating for close to 8 months, but as she looked into his earnest and hopeful eyes, she felt warmth spread through her. The idea of making this place their shared home, of waking uup to him and Kkuma every day, filled her with joy.

“I’d love that, Cheollie,” she said, her voice filled with emotion and her eyes shining with love and affection. “I’d love to move in with you.”

As soon as the words left her mouth his face broke into the widest grin, and he pulled her into a tight hug. “You’ve just made me so happy.”

Y/n laughed, hugging him back. “I’m glad I can make you as happy as you always make me.”

They spent the rest of the morning planning and discussing what was needed to make the transition as smooth as possible, especially considering Y/n’s cat Loki and how Kkuma would react to having a new element in her house. They talked about which of Y/n’s things would fit in the apartment, where they would need to rearrange furniture, and even joked about negotiating closet space, while Kkuma, as if sensing the excitement present in the air, bounced around them, her joy evident.

As they shared their plans and dreams, the bond between them grew stronger with the promise of a future together.

All Rights Reserved © yoonjoongles // do not copy or modify my work in any way.

Divider by @bunnysrph

[chlorinecake]

Hey can you make something like "kissing I hope they catch us " but for a black reader please?

Hot Cocoa Kisses —⊹ N.RK (西村力) ☕️

Pairing… ₊˚⊹ ᰔ boyfriend!riki x girlfriend!reader

Warnings… ₊˚⊹ slightly heated make-out session, teasing, pet names, fluff, rushed

Words… ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 867 -> “Your lips taste like hot cocoa”

It was a chilly winter day when you and your boyfriend Riki sat in the living room together.

Cradled in the fluffiest blankets you two could find, you sat in between Riki’s legs on the couch, reading a manga he received as a Christmas gift out loud as he braided a tiny section of your hair. Not to style it, of course, but just out of pure endearment for you.

“So what’s happening now?” Riki asked, mostly focused on carefully overlapping the three strands of hair he was working on.

“Hmm… I actually stopped reading the words a few pages ago. The illustrations alone are much more interesting in my opinion,” you replied, just as he kissed the center of your scalp, letting you know that he was done playing with your hair.

“Let me see,” he said, taking the comic from your hands to examine it for himself. “Yeahhh… the dialogue is pretty impressive, actually. No wonder a little baby like you only wants to look at the pictures though,” he giggled, tickling the spot beneath your jawline before getting up and walking towards the kitchen.

You weren’t ready to leave the warmth of the cozy couch yet, but you understood that Riki wanted one more thing before y’all continued to spend this lovely winter evening together: Hot cocoa.

Your arms found Riki’s waist as he reached for the top cabinet, grabbing the box of hot cocoa mix from the top shelf.

“Almost forgot about these,” he said, pulling down mini marshmallows next.

You put yourself in charge of warming the milk for your drinks, followed by stirring the cocoa mix into your mugs and then waiting for it to cool.

“Are they finished, yet? It’s not like we’re making “cold cocoa” anyways,” Riki sighed, leaning over the counter on his elbows.

“Well if we add the marshmallows now, they’re just gonna melt again, see?” You said, grabbing one of the cups to take a sip, “I mean, it’s not as hot anymore, though, if you’re just tired of waiting.”

Upon saying that, Riki just stared at you for much longer than necessary, holding back a smile as his eyes glittered with amusement.

“W-what?” You asked, poking him on the shoulder which only made him laugh out loud this time.

“It’s the braid you did, isn’t it?,” you continued with a pout. He shook his head at your words, walking up to you and taking your face in one of his hands, swiping some moisture from your upper lip with his thumb before tasting it himself.

“You had a milk mustache, silly,” he smiled softly, eyes not leaving your lips as he licked his own, leaning in with a soft kiss.

Humming into the embrace, a smile creeped upon Riki's face as your hand found his neck, supporting yourself against the counter for him to only pull you closer.

“Riki~,” you mumbled while disconnecting your lips, “where’d all that come from?” you asked, still in a daze as you felt heat rush to your face.

He bit his lower lip, looking you up and down through hooded eyes as his hands rested on either side of the countertop, caging you in before his intimidating frame.

“Nowhere,” he smirked, pecking you one last time on the corner of your mouth before continuing, “your lips taste like hot cocoa and I just couldn’t resist.”

Playfully smacking your boyfriend’s chest, he released you from his arm cage, watching as you went back to the other counter, shaking marshmallows in both your mugs before sealing the bag closed.

He took so much delight in seeing how flustered you appeared now. You even fumbled with your fingers as you tried closing the bag all thanks to his actions.

“Are you sure you don’t want something cold to drink instead? You seem warm all of a sudden,” he teased, wiping the spilled remnants of sugary mix from the countertop with a napkin.

“Do I? Maybe it’s because you keep looking at me like this,” you teased back, dramatically reenacting the way he looked at you earlier, biting your lip to seal the deal.

He laughed with his entire body, leaning over the counter as soft giggles rumbled from his body. But then, his cocky side returned.

“Is that the only thing I did that got you flustered, or is there more?” He asked, voice deepening slightly as his piercing gaze scanned you once again.

“Hmm… well… you also touched me like this,” you said, cupping his face in your hands, “and then I nearly fainted when you kissed me like there was no tomorrow!”

“No tomorrow, huh? That sounds romantic,” he smirked, trying to mask how giddy you were making him feel in this moment even though the pink hue staining his cheeks and ears made it impossible to hide.

“That’s because it was romantic, Riki,” you smiled lovingly, kissing your finger and placing it on his rosy nose before walking back to the living room, warm mugs in both your hands as you returned to your seats on the cozy couch.

The same place you knew Riki would eventually start to kiss you again the moment you sat your cup down.

❆ Thank you for reading this quick little fic, and special thanks to my bbygirl for requesting this !!

❆ Feel free to check out more cute and fun reads like this at the pinned post on my blog :3

❆ Taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @nikisdubblchococake @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @noodlesimp @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @star-yawnznn

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 2

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Blood consumption, mention of deceased family members, trauma responses by an abuse victim. Summary: Meeting your new roommates is an exercise in opposites. Notes: Introducing Max and Eddie! And a photo of the dining room to boot 🍷

Ch 1

It's a long day of getting lost in your own house when you finally venture out of your room later, and even though the house is large it is still inviting. That gray bedroom upstairs feels like it's meant for someone and you just can't put your finger on who. The statues in the marble hall beside the library seem to want to leap to life. Every book on every shelf is just begging to be read. Mrs. Taylor is kind enough to make you a light but delicious lunch and reminds you that you can do whatever you like in your own house when you sheepishly ask if it's okay to eat it in the library.

After spending about an hour in the evening walking around the grounds – all fourteen enormous acres of grounds – you come back inside to find a cup of hot cocoa waiting for you in your room and you park yourself very firmly on the chaise by the window just like Renee had suggested. Everything is quiet as the sun goes down, and only afterward do you hear movement elsewhere on the floor.

Eddie groans as he opens his door and drops the bag of books by the door. His professors are assholes and the classes are boring but he hates the idea of going to the advisors and changing his classes even more, so he's stuck for the next semester at least. "What a day." His comment is directed towards no one, he hadn't even sought out Mrs. Taylor or Renee when he got here. Wanting to just shut himself away and forget the tantalizing smell of human for a bit.

“I’m sorry?” You were standing in the hall when you heard the words, just a bare and exasperated sigh, but you’re more afraid of making one of these men angry by lurking around than you are of what they might say if you introduced yourself so you put your courage to the sticking place and knock on the door frame that you saw the young man head toward.

"Oh!" Eddie whirls around, and it's a moment before he tilts his head in confusion and curiosity. "I didn't know anyone else was up here." He admits, his long, lanky form folding in on itself in that awkward way that the youthful still carry until they are comfortable in their own bodies. Shooting you a self-deprecating grin, he shrugs. "Sorry."

“Don’t be. I’m the one who surprised you, not the other way around.” You’re only half visible at the corner of the door frame and – after a second of internal debate – step out fully into view and introduce yourself.

“Oh! You’re the new owner.” Eddie eyes light up and he rushes forward to greet you. Instead of shaking your hand, he pulls you into a brief hug, only remembering you know nothing about him when you stiffen immediately. “Sorry.”

"I just got here this morning." He seems friendly but you weren't expecting the hug at all and you freeze when he squeezes you. "Are you...um...Mrs. Taylor said the other residents were named Max and Eddie?"

“I’m Eddie.” He steps back and searches your face, aware that you are on edge and despite his youthful face, he’s older and more experienced than he appears. “Nice to meet you.”

"It's nice to meet you, too." At least, it is so far, and you have no intention of being rude. "Did you...know Ms. Brown very well?" It feels odd to call her your great-aunt considering you had no idea who she was before she died, so you'll stick to her name for now.

“Cookie? Yeah.” He smiles fondly at the thought of the old bird and chuckles. “I spent hours listening to her stories. She was a hoot.”

Renee seemed to have a similar reaction of nostalgia when asked about the previous owner, and that makes you relax a little. Obviously the people that surrounded her were glad to know her, which is a very good thing. "I wish I could have known her."

Eddie’s face falls slightly, remembering that you were never in contact with Cookie and why. He doesn’t know the complete story but he has just enough of an idea to be sorry about it. “I’m sure that you would have liked her.”

"I'm sorry," you fidget slightly and frown. "I didn't mean to upset you."

“You didn’t.” Eddie is jumping to reassure you. Not wanting you to feel bad about anything that was beyond your control. “Sooooooo…” he shoves his hands in his pockets. “How do you like it so far?”

"The house is beautiful." That is an understatement, but since you're sure he's just being polite to his new roommate you don't want to gush in detail. Instead you narrow it down to a single question. "That...that little house thing out on the grounds." It looked like a little cottage, with flowers carefully planted in specific patterns out in front and two statues of life-sized bunnies sitting sentinel at the opening of the brick wall. "Do you know what it is? Or...what it was used for?" You hadn't dared to go in, but ever since you walked away from it, you wish you had tried the doorknob.

"It used to be Cookie's teahouse." Eddie tells you, lighting up with a smile. "Do you want to go see?" He asks, motioning towards the window. "I can come with you. I spent a lot of time there with her when the weather was nice. She would love to sit out there and have tea and smell the flowers from the gardens."

"Would that be okay?" It's still all new to you – the idea that you actually own this place and aren't encroaching on someone else's space – and the question is automatic.

"Of course." Eddie senses that you aren't used to being allowed to do things, and he wants to frown, but he also doesn't want you to think that he's upset again. "We could have tea out there sometime if you like the place." He offers.

"That...actually sounds really nice." He's so friendly. And seems so normal. It's an enormous comfort after the upheaval of the last few days. "I don't want to step on anyone's toes or be in the way. But tea sounds really nice."

"How are you going to step on anyone's toes?" He asks incredulously. "You are the boss." That might not have sunk in for you, but Eddie is happy to remind you. He's not sure if Max would or not. "Come on, let's go adventure."

"You and Max have been living here for a while already." It doesn't matter that you don't know for sure about the ‘a while’ part, but you're certain they've been here longer than a single day and that gives them rank in your mind. Nevertheless, you let Eddie snag your arm and steer you back toward the great hall and the master stairwell.

"Max and I are actually pretty good roommates." He assures you. "We aren't loud, although we do stay up late. But we don't hold wild parties and act crazy."

"I usually stay up late, too." Never having been a morning person, you had tended to gravitate towards things that happened at night instead of in the brightest part of the day. Until Derek, of course. He had encouraged you to find something full-time with regular hours, and that had meant a 9-5. "Are you a student?" You had seen the Salve Regina University notebook on his desk when you looked into his room earlier, and there was a large bookbag in his room just now when you met him.

"I am." He groans quietly, rolling his eyes playfully as he looks over at you. "It's soooooo much fun." He complains. "No, it's not really bad, but I'm just in that slump that comes with hating all your classes one semester."

“I remember that.” You nod a little as you head down the stairs together. Now that you’ve walked around it a few times, the house is getting a little easier to navigate. “That was spring semester of sophomore year for me.”

It doesn't help that Eddie feels like he's been in school forever, but he nods. "So what is your favorite part?" He asks. "The house I mean."

“The library, I think.” It’s certainly the place you spent the most time today, besides your own room. “I can’t believe it actually has a ballroom, though.” The dark wood frames of the yellow floral furniture caught your eye every time you passed them today and always made you smile privately. “I can’t imagine it gets used much anymore.”

"It could be." Eddie chuckles. "I bet if you talked to the right people, that ballroom would be filled with people who want to pretend to be a part of the gilded age, or are just nosy." He hums. "Or just really like canapés."

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” It does make you smile though, the notion of a party that big, rather than being sad that you can’t think of a single person you would actually invite to it. Your only family were your parents and they died just before you started college. And any friends you made during that time stopped talking to you years ago.

"Friends will come out of the woodwork." Eddie does frown slightly at that, hoping that you aren't hurt by social climbers and people with less than honest intentions. He doesn't think that it would be allowed for long if he's honest. "Just make sure that you don't offer money to anyone."

“I’ll take your word for it.” He seems to be speaking from experience, or at least authority, and you nod. “So…can I ask how you knew Cookie? It’s just…I really know nothing about her and then she went and left me all of this. I wish I could have met her at least once.”

"Through my...father." He admits. "Adoptive." He shrugs slightly. "It's kind of hard to explain, but I've known Cookie since I was a kid." That's true in a manner of speaking. "She is the one who taught me my manners."

“Well, she did a very good job.” You won’t pry into his background at all. Families are always complicated. “It seems like manners were kind of her thing? Mrs. Taylor implied that, anyway.”

"Yes and no." Eddie grins again. "Manners were always important until it was time to be impolite." He intones seriously, quoting Cookie. "Be friendly to everyone, but prepare to tear them apart."

“Be friendly to everyone but prepare to tear them apart.” Repeating the quote paints a picture of a very interesting lady and you think back a little. “Sort of like… If you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me, that Alice Roosevelt Longworth quote. They have the same energy.”

"Exactly." Eddie laughs and the two of you are out the front door of the house and down the steps to walk across the manicured lawn.

“Sounds like she was fun.” And for some reason that draws a pang of something like regret or longing from you.

"Hopefully we can provide you that same energy." He supplies with a smirk. "Or at least not annoy you."

“It takes a lot to annoy me.” If it didn’t, you can’t imagine what your life would have been like before now.

"I don't know." Eddie chuckles. "You haven't met us when we want to be weird." He teases, hoping to get a laugh out of you. You seem like you need to laugh more.

“Do your worst,” you challenge good naturedly, just wanting to put him at ease. He’s nice. Nice and normal. And you’ve been missing normal in your life.

“You asked for it.” He warns playfully. Leaning in, he drops his voice to a whisper. “I drink milk in my tea.”

Taken aback by yet more normalcy, you end up giggling along with Eddie as you walk through the grounds together. It’s after dark and the moon is bright tonight, shining down on the grass everywhere. It isn’t late yet, barely close to dinner time, but the moon is out. “I’ll never tell,” you promise him with a laugh. “Because I do, too.”

“Well damn.” He snaps his fingers in disappointment. “I was hoping to show you how odd I was.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a little harder than that,” you tease as the little teahouse comes into view.

“If you wanted to decorate this space, there’s furniture in the attic.” Eddie tells you. “Both in the main house and the carriage house.”

“No one would mind?” Again, your first instinct is permission.

His laughter is soft, not wanting you to feel foolish about your consideration of others. “No. I’ll help you move anything you want. And Renee would love to organize.”

“Maybe…” You tilt your head, glancing over at Eddie while you walk but refocusing when the little stucco teahouse comes up in front of you. It’s surrounded by a little brick wall and has little porthole windows and a cute, dark green door that you fell in love with immediately. “Maybe next time you have a day without classes?” You ask, not wanting to put him out but loving the idea of a space like this to make a sanctuary out of.

“I have half days on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” He pipes up. “And of course the weekends. No classes then. So ask for help whenever and I’ll give you a hand.” He reaches for the doorknob. “I’ve always imagined it as a witchy little cottage.”

It feels so much less proper than the house when Eddie opens the door to let you both in. Sure there is a little table covered with a lace doily, but the single light hanging from the ceiling and the mahogany and crimson velvet seats are all extremely gothic. It looks like something plucked out of an Anne Rice novel. “Oh…it’s perfect!” You sigh out immediately, the gut reaction to the space overwhelming you. Little shelves hold some books and photographs, and you pause with your fingers nearly touched a polished silver framed photo of a woman who looks like she’s in her fifties with a young girl in her lap. They look wonderfully happy, but something about it strikes you as odd. Not that you can put your finger on it, but it’s there all the same.

Eddie shuffles slightly as you study the picture. “So, uh, how do you like it?” He asks, rushing forward to open the little stove door that’s sitting in the corner. “She liked making her tea right here. Drove Mrs. Taylor crazy because she wanted to make it for her, but she would just cackle and send her back to the house for cookies and sandwiches.”

“It sounds like she was happy here.” Which is something that is becoming surprisingly important to you, the more you learn about this absent relative. “That makes it even better.”

"This is the spot that she met her soulmate." Eddie tells you. "At least, that's what she said." He doesn't know how much to tell you, so he keeps it vague. Knowing that things will be revealed to you later. When you've settled in.

“Right here?” You look around you, wondering if you are remembering wrong. You could have sworn the lawyer said her soulmate built the house for her. “Is…that why he built her the house?”

"Yes." Eddie shrugs slightly. "She didn't talk about it much. But she told me that one day when she was feeling nostalgic about the past."

“I think finding your soulmate is one of those things you’re supposed to feel a little nostalgic about forever.” Although that does make you shrug, and you shove your hands in your pockets as you pace around the small interior of the teahouse. “I’m guessing.”

Eddie just hums, unsure of what to say to that. He doesn't want press in case you have hard feelings about your soulmate. "What do you think about the space?"

“I think it’s cozy.” Looking around you, you can see the threads of a happy, comfortable life and feel a pang of longing… or maybe jealousy. Wishing you had your own soulmate to share all this with. Whoever they were, their marks had disappeared about four years ago. “And that if no one truly minds, I think I might like to spend some time out here while the weather is still good.”

"You can spend time wherever you wish." Eddie smiles. "When the weather is cold, I'll help you build up little fires in the stove." He promises. "You'd be amazed how warm it gets out here."

“I guess I should buy snow boots?” In Tennessee they were never necessary. “When does winter start around here?”

"Whenever it wants to." Eddie jokes with a laugh. "Don't worry. I think there are about five hundred pairs in the mud room."

“Hopefully we’ll have plenty of time.” It’s not even October yet and the crisp autumn air whips through the little room little a tease, bringing some fallen leaves with it.

"The days will be shorter soon." Eddie looks forward to it and he grins at you. "Do you like Halloween?" He asks curiously.

“Love it.” It lights you up from the inside, a mention of your favourite day of the year. Any mention of it. “It was a big thing in my house growing up so I kind of grew up into a horror moving loving, pumpkin spice drinking, vampire loving, spooky girl.” It hadn’t been Derek’s thing at all so you had been keeping it bottled up for years. Now that you’re on your own? Who knows. Maybe it’s time to start living like a ‘spooky bitch’ like your friends in college used to say. Like the witch your parents raised you to be.

"We should decorate the manor!" Eddie immediately grins, excited about the prospect. "It's the perfect backdrop for spooky shit."

“How would our third roommate feel about that?” You ask, knowing full well that not everyone is into Halloween.

"Max?" Eddie tilts his head and chuckles. "He'll love it. The cheesier the better."

******

The half hour or so you spend outside walking the grounds with Eddie is surprisingly calming. He's excitable and not pushy at all, ready to fill awkward silences with friendly babble until you stumble across another topic you both enjoy. When you meander back to the house you find a focused Mrs. Taylor setting the dinner table for three. "Ms. Brown served dinner precisely at seven o'clock," she tells you with an expectant look. "Will that be acceptable for you as well, ma'am?"

"Of course." Far be it from you to change a routine, especially one that you have no stake in. Before now you had been eating dinner at the exact moment Derek got home from work – no matter when that was. "Should we..." you look between Mrs. Taylor and Eddie uncertainly. "Are we expected to change?" Not that you have any nice clothes, but things are very traditional here...

"No." Eddie supplies that answer, knowing that if Mrs. Taylor had her way, she would have you changing into evening dresses. She was a stickler for propriety in some ways, even more than Ms. Brown. "We don't change for dinner."

"Just checking." Although for some reason it makes you feel stupid to have even asked, and you check your watch instead. "I'll be back in ten minutes and not a moment later, Mrs. Taylor. I promise." You'll trade your shoes for slippers and your jacket for a sweater, and be back downstairs in no time. Something tells you that the extremely proper housekeeper wouldn't like to be kept waiting for even five seconds.

Mrs. Taylor nods but Eddie is the one that answers. "Take your time." He assures you. "I want to talk to her about my protein shakes." He's already figured out that you will continuously ask permission and he wants you to feel comfortable here for your first dinner.

"How was she in the garden?" Mrs. Taylor asks, once you are out of sight and she can hear your feet creak on the stairs.

"Unsure of herself." Eddie tells her seriously, frowning slightly as he looks towards the stairs. "Scared. I don't think she's been treated very well."

"She's been skittish all day. I wasn't sure if it was nerves at first but it seems to be more than that." The older woman shakes her head sadly and goes back to carefully setting out drinking glasses on the table. No wine glasses, since you had said that you don't drink, but a goblet for water and a tall glass for the iced tea recipe she had dredged out from a party decades ago.

"She's been asking permission to do anything." He confirms. "Even doing anything with the teahouse." He shakes his head. "She owns this place is asking permission to go upstairs before dinner."

"It's not exactly subtle." The housekeeper agrees, moving on to the next place setting in her exacting way. "And when she told me that she doesn't drink alcohol, I could smell the fear on her." She tuts softly, shaking her head again and making sure that your place setting at the head of the table is perfect. "Poor thing."

“Max isn’t going to like that.” Eddie knows that Max likes to uphold a certain image. “Hopefully he’s not going to scare her too badly.”

"I guess we'll see." It certainly wouldn't be the first time that Max Phillips had scared a young lady inside this house, and she's certain it wouldn't be the last. "It'll probably bother him more than I won't be serving wine at dinner anymore. Not if the lady of the house isn't partaking."

“Yeah.” Eddie rolls his eyes and hopes that Max is on his best behavior tonight. If he’s not, the old man will be pissed.

“You know your father has asked for reports?” She raises one eyebrow in Eddie’s direction but continues her work studiously. In under two minutes, she’ll have to go back downstairs. “So he needs to be. I won’t lie for him.”

“That’s between him and the old man.” Eddie holds up his hands to signify he’s not getting in the middle of this. “I just wanted her to feel like she has a friend here.”

“That’s very good of you.” She’s always liked Eddie, and things like this are a good example of why. “I’ve got to go finish dinner. Will you intercept him at the door in case he’s forgotten what day it is?”

“On my way to stand guard.” He throws Mrs. Taylor a snappy salute and disappears towards the door even though he can hear Max’s car from a mile away.

******

The stone lions by the from door are a lasting part of the Victorian air of the house, and Eddie is sitting on the step between them when Max finally starts walking up from the carriage house. He swears that obnoxious sports car gets louder every day, but it’s probably just his perception. Eddie’s little car isn’t showy on purpose.

“Did Mrs. Taylor throw you out for not shining your shoes?” Max snorts as he walks up to the younger vampire. He straightens his tie and brushes off some lint from his suit. “Is she serving AB negative today?” He asks. “The positive upset my stomach the other day.”

Eddie sighs, shaking his head at his adoptive brother and pulling himself to his feet. “Max,” he huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “What day is today?”

“It’s…” Max frowns slightly. “Friday. There’s a big orgy tonight at the office. You wanna come?” His brows lift up, since he knows that isn’t Eddie’s scene. It’s not been his scene in a while too, if he’s honest.

“No.” The seemingly younger of the two shakes his head again. “No, I don’t want to come, but technically yes it is Friday. More importantly, though, it’s her first day here.”

“Shit.” The grin slides off Max’s face and he shakes his head. “She’s here? I didn’t think she would be here now. What the hell did she do? Jump in her car and race here to claim her inheritance?”

“I don’t think that’s quite it.” Eddie admits, though he hasn’t worked out all the details. “She’s not greedy or anything.”

He doubts that, but Eddie is always the glass half full type. “So what’s she like? Pretty? Nah, I don’t want you to tell me.” He grins. “Better to be surprised.”

“Be nice!” Eddie practically begs, knowing Max hardly ever is. “Mrs. Taylor and Renee already like her.”

“Great.” Max rolls his eyes, fully aware that Mrs. Taylor and Renee like adopting pet projects. So now he’s fully expecting some socially awkward wallflower who couldn’t interest a plastic bag to stir in a windstorm.

“And the old man is getting reports from Mrs. Taylor,” Eddie warns. “So be nice.”

Max rolls his eyes again. “When am I not nice?” He asks sarcastically.

“Literally always.” Eddie sighs as Max pushes past him into the house without another care in the world.

He doesn’t know why this is such a big deal. Humans aren’t interesting, at least not anymore. His priorities and attitude changing since that little incident four years ago. Cooling his jets here as a form of punishment ever since. “Honey, I’m home.” Max calls out loudly as he saunters into the house.

The sound of an unfamiliar voice echoing up through the atrium catches your attention, and a curl of dread rolls through you before you pull on your sweater and head back to the stairs. No one has given you any reason to dread and yet you can’t help it — worried that the so far manageable bubble of your new life will be punctured at any second. Nothing ever stays happy, or even pleasant, for too long. You pace out to the master stairwell and wrap your cardigan around yourself like a security blanket as you go down to the dining room. Don’t project. You’re overreacting before there is anything to react to…

The problem with Max Phillips is that he knows he’s cute, and because of that, he thinks he can get away with a lot. Partly because of being in that douchey frat boy stage when he was changed, and partly as a protective front he’s adopted. “What’s for dinner? I’m starved.” His chuckle rolls out behind his question, a little darker than normal.

“Hello?” From the stairs you can’t see Eddie or Mrs. Taylor anywhere, but it’s one minute until seven and you already know that Mrs. Taylor likes to be precise.

“Hello.” Max, despite what Eddie thinks, is polite. His version of polite. “Come on down and play.” He calls out teasingly.

“You…must be Max?” There’s something about him that unsettles you at first, until you turn the corner and find someone extremely handsome standing at the bottom of the stairs in a three-piece suit. This is your other roommate?

“The one and only.” He waggles his brows at you and winks. Looking you up and down and approving of what he’s seeing.

“I—it—it’s nice to meet you.” At the bottom of the stairs you can tell that he’s more physically imposing than he seemed from the platform, and your shoulders round in on themselves in response. Making yourself smaller is an automatic reflex that you don’t even notice anymore. “I’m Dolly.” Who knows why you do it. Why you introduce yourself with your nickname when you had been perfectly fine meeting Eddie with your own full name an hour ago. Who knows? But it’s that name that tumbles out of your mouth instead and that is that.

“Dolly?” His brows shoot up and his grin slowly stretches his face as he feels the need to tease you. “Yes you certainly are, sweet cheeks. Not nearly the boring little drab spinster I was imagining. Timid, but I don’t mind that.”

It might be the glee in his voice that makes you already wish you could take back the ‘nice’ part of ‘nice to meet you’, because you immediately feel like you’re on the defensive again. Like he’s a predator and you’re prey. Which is just a weird, uncomfortable thought to have immediately upon meeting someone, but you know without a doubt that if you try to get around him right now he’ll block your path. Instinct tells you so. “It’s just a nickname,” you murmur, unsure of what to do now and feeling that fight or flight instinct scratching at the back of your mind.

“It suits you.” He tells you, giving you his most charming smile as he steps closer to you. “How are you enjoying being here? Isn’t this house to die for?”

"It's very beautiful." That can't be denied, and you enjoyed looking around the grounds so much. "I think...it's..." you swallow and your eyes drop to the floor. "We should go in to dinner?"

“It’ll hold.” Max shrugs, unconcerned with that Mrs. Taylor would say. He leans in and inhales the sweet, cloying scent you are wearing, instantly addicted to it. “You smell delicious.” He groans. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s…just a spray…” No expensive bottled perfume has been in your bathroom since before your mother died, and you struggle to remember the name of the Bath & Body Works scent you have on with the clouding proximity of this intimidating man. “Vampire Blood? I think that’s what it’s called?”

“Mmmmmmhhhh, my favorite scent.” Max can’t help but lean in again, brushing his nose against your neck as he invades your personal space.

The way your pulse jumps at the touch has your whole body recoiling in response. Equal parts flight response and confusion are at war in you, and for a second you almost thought you enjoyed the touch. That’s impossible, you tell yourself sternly. Being touch starved and enjoying it are two different things.

Max leans back, resisting the urge to frown at the mixed signals your body is giving him. He can hear the way your heart sped up and smell the way your cunt reacted, but your body recoils like he is disgusting. Instead he grins and winks at you. “Shall we eat?” He asks.

“Sure.” The suggestion is welcome, and when he finally shifts aside to let you past, you move like lightning. Eddie is already in the dining room, chatting amiably with Renee as she pours cold drinks. The younger woman smiles when she catches sight of you and excuses herself to go downstairs, ready to tell Mrs. Taylor that everyone has assembled for dinner.

“Where’s the wine?” Max asks immediately, looking around at the lack of additional glasses.

“Dolly doesn’t drink.” Eddie answers immediately, having seen the discomfort in your eyes as soon as you walked in. “So Mrs. Taylor won’t be serving wine with dinner. Period.”

“Awwww really?” Max looks back at you and pouts, obviously unhappy at that news.

“I—” instantly coiling in on yourself again, you realize in the same second - to your horror - that both men have sat down on the sides of the table, putting you at the head. For a woman who has spent the last several years learning how to become part of the wallpaper, this is your worst nightmare. “I didn’t mean for everyone else to have to stop,” you murmur, although you know the smell of it will do awful things to your panicky self. Just because Derek drank too much doesn’t mean everyone else will…give them a chance to prove your fears wrong…

“No.” Eddie shakes his head adamantly and shoots Max a pointed glare. “We don’t have to drink.”

Max snorts, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t drink champagne?” He demands, waiting until you shake your head no. “No hot toddy when you’re sick? Or a little splash of Irish whiskey in your tea on a blistering day?”

“No.” His ability to make you feel small is uncanny and unwelcome, and your eyes cast down at the table. “Not anymore.”

“Pity.” Max throws you a faux pout and then looks over at Eddie. “So, how was your day?” He asks sing-songy. “Mine was great. I sold a ten-million-dollar contract on a bunch of shit.”

“Classes aren’t great,” Eddie shrugs and brushes it off, more concerned with the way that you implied there is a reason you don’t drink. Like something happened. “Spent some time out in the teahouse this afternoon. We talked about decorating for Halloween.”

“Halloween?” Max hums, looking around the room to see if Mrs. Taylor is having a stroke. “Good idea. Maybe we can have a haunted house.”

“Whatever the lady of the house decides.” Appearing as if from nowhere with the first course, Mrs. Taylor sets a plate of beef tartare with crostini in front of each of you. “Ms. Brown threw a very dignified masquerade ball in the autumn every year for decades.”

Max rolls his eyes and snorts. “When was the last time that happened?” He asks sarcastically.

“Not so long ago that I don’t remember.” Mrs. Taylor answers primly, neatly leaving out the fact that her memory stretches much longer than her appearance would make anyone think. “They were beautiful, those parties,” she hums before slipping out the door again.

“Boring.” Max huffs and taps his fingers on the table. “We should have it gothic spooky. Black candles and haunted rooms.” He grins. “Vampires.”

“If you think people would enjoy it…” The dish in front of you is familiar only in the sense that you can identify what it is from cooking shows, not that you’ve ever had it before. But you would never insult someone who has cooked for you by not eating what is served. “They’ll be your guests, not mine. All the people I know here are in this house.”

“I think that we should have a masquerade again.” Eddie interjects. “I am sure that all of society here would love to come to a ball.”

“Is there really society left?” It’s a genuine question, since you don’t know anything about this kind of life. For all you know, real rich people still eat seven course dinners and sending their kids to European boarding schools.

“I’m sure that it’s not what it once was, but yeah.” Eddie hums. Max nods. “Plenty of movers and shakers. If they know that this place is open for a party, they will come.”

“It’s something to consider, then.” A masquerade brings fantasies of dancing to mind for you, but they’re ones you’ll drown in privately. It’s been a lot of years since you danced, especially in a ballroom of any kind.

There’s a small silence as the conversation lulls. “Sooooo.” Max starts. “How about a toast?” He holds up his glass that doesn’t have wine. “To Cookie. Maybe there’s a point to bringing us all together that we can’t see right now.”

“If anybody had a plan up her sleeve, it was Cookie.” Eddie agrees, picking up his glass.

Whatever the point was or is, you can only hope it becomes apparent soon. But you raise your glass anyway, feeling like it’s the least you can do to toast the woman who left you everything and very literally changed your life. “I wish I could have met her,” you admit, a crack of a smile peeking through your expression. “But I’m very grateful for what she’s done.”

“I’m sure you are.” Max chuckles. “It’s not every day you’re given a mansion and a fortune. Got plans for it? Or still in shock?”

“I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I said that I’m not the sort of person who dreams about being rich.” The first course of your dinner is only a few bites, but already you’re feeling like you won’t want more. The conversation has turned your stomach.

“Why not?” Max looks positively offended by the idea that someone wouldn’t dream of being rich. “Do what you want, when you want? Answer to no one? That’s the dream, baby.”

“For some people.” You nod, but only vaguely, knowing that you aren’t one of them. “And that’s fine. But not everyone wants to be king of the castle.”

“Queen.” Max pips up. When you tilt your head in confusion, he chuckles. “You’re obviously not a man, so you would be the queen of this castle.” He winks and smirks at you suggestively.

“But—” But you just said that was something that you did not want, so the feeling of being ignored and feeling stupid about it seeps deep into your bones like it has every other time before. “I—I guess. You’re…you’re right.”

“‘Course, I’m right, Dolly.” He hums in amusement. “Got an MBA in business. Hard not to be right.” There’s something vulnerable about you and he doesn’t know why he keeps pressing, but that douchey armor seems to be strong today and Max is a man who rolls with it rather than sitting and self-reflecting.

“Queen Dolly.” Eddie tries, trying to get Max to back the fuck off a little and you to at least smile. He feels weirdly protective of you since this afternoon. Like a big brother, even though he isn’t very protective of his actual adoptive siblings at all. They can all fend for themselves — it’s pretty obvious that you can’t or won’t for whatever reason.

“That’s a nickname.” Max grins. “Queenie. Yep. I like that.” He raises a brow at Eddie, as if challenging him as he looks back at your timid features. “All hail, Queenie. Ruler of the mansion.”

Instantly regretting saying anything, all Eddie can really do is shake his head. Once Max latches on to something there’s no going back. “That means you gotta listen to her,” he reminds Max pointedly.

“Oh I’ll be her subject.” Max chuckles dirtily. Even if he’s the one that likes to be in charge, he can pretend.

“That won’t be necessary.” As attractive as he might be, the lewdness and arrogance does nothing for you. Not anymore.

Rejection isn’t something that Max is unused to, but still, yours stings for some reason. That, more than any harsh looks from Eddie, makes him quiet down. Going silent through the rest of the course.

Mrs. Taylor re-emerges a few minutes later with plates laden down with filet mignon, cheesy potatoes gratin, and beautifully cooked broccoli rabe and sets one in front of each of you after clearing away the empty appetizer plates. You murmur your thanks, noticing that the steaks she set in front of both men are barely cooked, but that yours looks like it came straight out of a cookbook. Picture perfect. Not that you’ve had a steak in years, but it looks and smells amazing. All of a sudden your appetite is back, though you’re careful not to eat too quickly. This is far better food than you’re used to and you want to savor it.

“Oof.” Max winces slightly as he chews. “I think I pissed her off,” he grumbles. “She overcooked my steak.”

“Over—?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you clamp your mouth shut before you can speak even more out of turn.

“My steak is fine.” Eddie smirks. “Maybe you deserve to have your steak overcooked.”

When Max’s response is to pout, you look between the two men with curiosity. “Are you…family?” You ask, as politely as humanly possible while noticing the immensely familiar way they deal with each other. They must be brothers. Cousins, at least.

“Brothers.”

“Hell no.”

Both answers come out at the same time and each man turns to look at the other one before Max rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He sighs. “Brothers. He’s the younger, annoying at shit one. I’m the older, more handsome, more successful one.”

Eddie snorts, knowing full well that Max was only older when he was sired. As far as birth date goes, Eddie definitely has some years on Max. “Adoptive brothers,” Eddie explains, having already told you he had an adoptive father.

“Got it.” There it is. Brothers. You were right. “I was just curious.”

“Nothing wrong with being curious.” Max sincerely means that. He’s always been the curious type and he is curious about you. Cutting into his steak again, he prepares himself for the too done bite, wishing he had some wine to wash it down with.

“If we’re all going to live together I suppose we ought to get to know each other a little?” Although you could argue that you already know that you don’t think you like Max too much, your mother’s voice is in your head reminding you that it is important to give people the benefit of the doubt. You never know someone else’s story unless you take the time to get to know them.

Great, the conversation that Max doesn’t wish to have. “Nothing much to tell. Highly successful, kind of a stud.” He winks at you again. “Devilishly handsome of course.”

And an ego the size of the planet. It’s not exactly your favourite trait, and you smile weakly. “Are you from Rhode Island originally?”

“Hell no.” Max shakes his head and shrugs. “Michigan.”

“I’m from California,” Eddie offers, trying to make the conversation a little bit smoother. “Our family is varied. We’re from all over.”

You nod as if that makes all the sense in the world, even though you can’t figure out how a kid from Michigan got adopted by the same family as a kid from California. But maybe it’s none of your business. “I’m from Indiana,” you add, trying to be conversational. “Originally, I mean.”

“Yeah?” Max perks up at being in the same geographical area. “I would have assumed you were from Rhode Island.”

“Never been here before in my life.” Not that you can remember, anyway. You don’t think it was one of the vacations your family took when you were little. “I’ve lived in Indiana and Tennessee before this.”

“Why Tennessee?” Max ask, curling his nose slightly.

“College.” Even if the conversation is forced or even unpleasant, this food is amazing. You’re going to be writing Mrs. Taylor personalized thank you notes every single day if this is her standard cooking. And good food, apparently, lifts your mood. “It kind of happened by accident.”

“Like most things in life.” Max snorts. “Including me.”

“I…” You look between the brothers but Eddie is eating again and not terribly engaged. “Don’t think I understand?”

Max chuckles and holds up another bite of the steak. “I was an accident?” He says, his tone kind of questioning. “I’d have to ask my daddy.”

“Feel free to ignore him,” Eddie advises, shaking his head. “I usually do.”

“And that’s why you’re poor.” Max huffs. “Don’t take advice from him. He’s a college kid.” He makes a dismissive face. “What do college kids know?”

“Well, you seemed very proud of your degree.” You reason, looking between both men. College was some of the best and most formative years of your life, despite the hardship of having just lost your parents. “That means you must value what you learned in college quite a lot.”

You’ve got him there and he knows it. Opening his mouth for a sassy reply until he realizes he’s got no argument. Making him snap his mouth shut and eye you again. “You’re good.” He huffs, pointing his steak knife at you and shaking his head. “Gotta hand it to you.”

"My mother taught me never to criticize someone who was trying to better themself." Even mentioning her makes your voice a little smaller, but it's true.

“Sounds like she is wise woman.” Max hums. “Is she coming by soon?”

"She...died." You swallow the lump that appears instantly in your throat and look down at your empty plate. "Twelve years ago."

“Oh.” Max feels like a complete asshole. “I’m sorry.” He tells you quietly. Sincerely. “I lost my parents about eight years ago myself.” They weren’t dead but Max couldn’t have contact with them after he had become a vampire. However, it felt like they were gone. Especially since they hadn’t believed he hadn’t been guilty of academic dishonesty.

"I'm sorry to hear that." It's never easy to lose someone you're close to regardless of the circumstances. There is a lull of quiet at the table as Mrs. Taylor returns to sweep away the dinner plates and replace them with all with a dish of ice cold raspberry sorbet – or, what appears to you to be raspberry sorbet. You could never know from looking at the dishes that Max and Eddie's dessert is made with blood instead of raspberry puree.

“Best part of dinner.” Max groans, diving into the blood sorbet. You don’t know what it is and Mrs. Taylor would never mix up the dishes so both men are free to indulge. Eddie makes a noise of agreement as he also attacks the dessert. They usually have blood in their wine, so this is the first real taste of human blood they’ve had the entire meal.

“Mrs. T knows her stuff.” Eddie groans in approval. The housekeeper’s age-old trick of disguising the color and texture of blood to blend in with human food is well practiced at this point. “I take it this is a favourite?” It’s almost teasing, but after just one bite you understand. If this is homemade, that thank you note you were planning on writing Mrs. Taylor is going to become a raise in salary.

“Yessssssss.” Max is scraping the bowl for every drop and licking his spoon clean. “I could eat a gallon of it every night.” He snickers.

“Oh, positively.” Eddie agrees, making himself cackle at his own bad pun.

“I think it was ‘O’ tonight.” Max grins. “O-ficially, my favorite.”

Whatever the joke is goes right over your head but you smile anyway, wanting to be polite and not derail the end of the meal the way you had a few times earlier in the night. When he's not puffing up his chest with bravado, Max is okay to be around. So you just really want to keep things at an even keel.

“Well. I guess I’ll go scream into the abyss.” Max hums as he stands. “Dolly, it was interesting meeting you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” He smirks. “Probably over a midnight snack.”

Interesting. Interesting is never the adjective you want used to describe you in a first meeting, and your forced smile is even more strained than it would have been otherwise. Bidding both men good night, you stand from the table and make straight for the stairs — resolved not to leave your room at all tonight. And maybe to go looking for a job anyway, just to get out of the house for a little each day.

“What is the matter with you?” Eddie hisses, angry that Max made you uncomfortable.

“What?” He shrugs innocently. “She’s gotta get used to bold personalities if she’s gonna fit in here.”

“She doesn’t have to fit in,” Eddie reminds him with utter exasperation. “This is her house!”

“And we live here.” Max shoots back. “Not like I want to, he’s making me.”

“Because you fucked up.” Eddie reminds him, arms folded across his chest. “You let your fuss with Evan get the best of you and you got staked, so yeah. Punishment sucks, but you’re lucky Father was there to bring you back otherwise you would have been actually dead.”

Max rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and huffs. “Yeah. Lost every goddamn good scar and tattoo too. And he won’t let me put the tattoos back.”

“You still have your birthmark.” His brother-by-siring reminds him gently. “You can still find them if you want to.” Soulmates are a sticky wicket for vampires, but it isn’t an impossible feat. After all — they’re only mostly dead.

“It’s whoever is my soulmate’s birthmark.” Max tells him. “I have no marks on this new skin.”

“The fewer ways there are to identify us, the better. You know that,” Eddie reminds him gently. “But it’s good that you still have her mark. You can find her if you want to.” He has his suspicions, honestly. There are some moments that Max let’s his guard down and his squishy, sentimental interior peeks through.

Max snorts but there’s not the derision behind it that there would normally be. “She’s human.” He reminds Eddie, frowning for a moment. “Why would I want a human soulmate?” It’s not the real question he has and has had since he was changed, but it makes him seem less vulnerable.

“It worked for our Father and Cookie. It’s not impossible.” Shifting back in his chair to stand, Eddie shrugs. “Who knows? Don’t they say opposites attract?”

Max sighs, forcing the sound out of his useless lungs. “Yeah.” He grumbles.

“You gonna go back to the office for that orgy?” One raised eyebrow is all Eddie offers, but he knows Max pretty well at this point. And the wind has been sucked out of just sails pretty hard since he got home.

“Of course I’m going to go.” Max scoffs like there was never a question of him going. “You should come too. Seriously. You need to get out and get some.”

“I’ll pass.” That’s never been Eddie’s scene, even though that makes him unusual in the vampire community. “But have fun. And don’t make me an uncle.”

“Hard to do when all the little swimmers are dead.” Max snorts.

“No siring!” Eddie reminds him, but Max is already headed for the door.

“No promises!” Max cackles as he sails out the door and lets it slam shut behind him.

******

You can hear the door slam from your room, the sound echoing up through the atrium of the Great Hall and reverberating through the walls. The windows in your bedroom face the sloping grounds of the house but you would bet anything that that was Max who just left – off to do god knows what, and you don't even know why you care to think about it. All you can do is shake the thought from your head and hope it stays out. When that doesn't work you wander down to the library to snag a book from the shelf and tuck yourself under a blanket on the chaise in your bedroom next to the window for the rest of the night. A distraction – any distraction – is better than the racing thoughts that are a constant barrage in your mind.

The room is lit up, almost a beacon when Max returns. Barely an hour later. He had found that when he walked in the door, the orgy already started, he wasn’t interested. Which in turn, pissed him off. Why wasn’t he interested? Had been before that dinner and now the blood he had drank seems to roll in his stomach. Walking closer the house and seeing that someone – you – is perched in front of the window, absorbed in a book.

The movement in the shadows below you doesn't do a thing to break your concentration. For the first time in ages you have all the time in the world to do what you want, and what you want is to travel back to Thornfield Hall with Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester. Nothing and no one is here to stop you, and that is a beautiful kind of miracle. The cup of cocoa that Renee brought up to you before saying good night is long since empty and you've added a second blanket to your cozy little nest to keep out the chill, but it's perfect. Nothing could disturb you right now.

You look like a princess in a tower. Even with the hollow-eyed looks that Max had pretended weren’t from a lifetime of abuse. At who’s hands is a guess, but there’s something about you that screams ‘please don’t’ and he is curious as to why.

Remaining oblivious to being watched is a blessing tonight. You shift on the chaise and readjust your position, laying your head on the top of the seat and cradling the book in your arms like it's the most precious treasure in the world. Today has been...stranger than you ever could have imagined. But like this? You can actually begin to think of a future where this house might one day feel like home.

One of the magical, mystical things about being a vampire is the ability to transform. He could become any creature that he wanted, but his overwhelming sense of sarcastic irony meant that he would become a bat. His body changing within moments, without the poof of smoke like in the movies, and he flaps his wings to get a closer look.

With the window open beside you, you feel the change in the breeze before you see anything different. A faint difference in the way the wind is blowing catches your attention, but doesn't distract you. What distracts is when you look out at the small balcony at your full-length windows and see a bat sitting there watching you with gleaming eyes.

Most people would probably be freaked out. Maybe even scream or recoil, or at least be startled. But you've always been a little bit more predisposed to things the world considers spooky than most, so you smile instead. If Disney princesses attract songbirds and wild forest animals, then you're surely just a Goth Disney Princess with a bat finding its way to your window instead of a cardinal or blue jay. "Hey cutie." You grin over at the little creature. "You live here too? Maybe in the attic or one of those big beech trees out back? I bet you do."

He’s surprised that you aren’t terrified of him. Most women would never talk to a bat but he finds it charming. He hops up onto the window ledge and flaps his wings, letting out a soft sound.

"You squeakin' at me, cutie?" Laughing softly, you briefly debate how bad of an idea it would be to let the little thing inside or even let it close to you. Bats carry diseases, don't they? Somehow you just can't bring yourself to care too much. This little buddy is too sweet.

He should be indignant that you, a mere human, isn’t terrified of him, but he flaps his wings again and decides that he will see how sturdy your resolve is. Taking flight, he circles your head twice before landing on your shoulder.

"Look who's a brave boy," you find yourself cooing to a creature that every single friend you've ever had would shriek at the actual presence of. The fact is, unless this little bat does something to harm you? It's just existing. Just trying to get by in a world that isn't necessarily always friendly towards creatures that aren't the most attractive or the most useful. And that...hits disturbingly close to home for you right now. "You wanna stay up there, cutie? Or do you want a little bed to snuggle up in?" Do bats snuggle? Who the fuck knows. But you still carve out a divot for it in your throw blankets all the same.

The fact that you are creating a little space in your lap for him making him smirk and trill. He doesn’t fly this time. He hops down your arm with the long, slow walk of the bats as they move over tree branches.

"Look at you!" The way you squeak in delight is almost the same as the little bat's sounds -- which you have to imagine are happy sounds. They sound happy, at least. "You want me to read to you, cutie? A little story time even though you have no idea what I'm saying?" You never thought the day would come that you wanted to pet a bat, but here you are. The little guy is just too stinkin' cute.

He trills again, grinning at how adorably you light up at his current form. None of the rounded shoulders and shy persona. He stomps around the little spot you made for him and folds his wings back as he stares up at you.

"Well go on, snuggle up." Somehow you could swear that this little bat can understand you, and it's the most peculiar thing in the world because you're not scared at all. Not even the smallest amount of apprehension in the back of your mind is there to cloud your enjoyment of this odd little moment. When the little sweetheart plops down in the middle of the nest that you made for him, you pick up your book rather dramatically and clear your throat. "It's called Jane Eyre," you explain to the bat, amused at the whimsy of the moment.

Of course you would read Jane Eyre. Max would roll his eyes in his human form but he just blinks and settles down into the little space you made him. It’s pretty nice to have someone not swat at him, or scream. He coos, wishing that you would pet him. That would make this even better.

"Let's see..." Finding your place on the page, you hum to yourself and settle in again with your back resting against the comfortably upholstered chaise lounge. "...a message came that I and Adele were to go downstairs. I brushed Adele’s hair and made her neat, and having ascertained that I was myself in my usual Quaker trim, where there was nothing to retouch — all being too close and plain, braided locks included, to admit of disarrangement — we descended, Adele wondering whether the petit coffre was at length come; for, owing to some mistake, its arrival had hitherto been delayed. She was gratified: there it stood, a little carton, on the table when we entered the dining-room. She appeared to know it by instinct." As you read, letting the feeling and comfort of the cool breeze wash over you and your new little friend, the fingers of your free hand find the bat's soft little head instinctively. So what if bats have diseases? You decide about three seconds after first stroking its little head. They're so soft and snuggly. I'll take antibiotics, but I'm keeping my little friend.

He’s almost surprised when you touch him and in the bat’s form, your fingers feel larger, yet they are gentle. Immediately pulling a sound that could only be described as pure pleasure out of him as his head moves towards your hand for more contact.

“Awwe, you like that?” It reminds you of the cat you had growing up, the way the little bat nudges into your touch, and you automatically open up your hand a little more to let it get comfortable for more scratches and pets as you continue reading.

Max could get used to this. Finding the relaxed and almost giggling persona of yours charming as you pet a bat. And the scratches he’s getting is like his own little personal massage. You obviously find bats to be cute and he doesn’t mind the reading so much now that you are petting him. Trilling and almost purring for you.

Sitting and reading a gothic romance novel to a bat might be the most edgy teen girl thing you’ve done in a hell of a long time, but before you know it the book in your hand is heavy and so are your eyelids. Who knows when it got to be so late, or when you got to be so tired, but falling asleep beside the open window with a happy little bat in your lap and an open book on your chest is the most contented you’ve felt in years.

Max listens to your heartbeat. Slow and steady in your chest. Nearly half as slow as when you are awake. Telling him that you have entered the dream world if you dream. He flutters his wings and moves off of you before he changes back to his human form. Staring down at you in confusion and contentment. It was the oddest evening he’s had in a long time, but probably the most satisfying. Defining you can’t sleep on the chaise, he uses the infinite strength of his kind to carefully scoop you up into his arms to carry you the fifteen feet to your bed. Tucking you in and watching you curl onto your side as he covers you up. Closing the window, he glances at you again before stealing out of your bedroom to make his way to his own, wondering if you will remember tonight when you wake up.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie

VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound

My Masterlist!

[silenceofthecookies]

Top shelf - Rocinante x reader (GN)

Genderneutral reader Warnings: none Word count: 713

More and more clouds were rolling in, blocking out the bright rays of the sun. Judging by the color, it would rain soon. With a sigh, you walked to your closet and grabbed one of your sweaters. It seemed summer was officially over, and fall was coming. The thought saddened you a little. For 3 months, you had enjoyed the rays of sunshine on your skin, sitting in front of the fan, having an excuse every single day to go swim... but now, that was all over.  

Not wanting to ruin your mood, you started thinking about everything good about fall. The beautiful colors of the falling leaves. A nice hot beverage to warm you up from the inside. Soft blankets to sit under. Nobody forcing you to go outside because ‘it’s such nice weather’. And how could you forget? Sitting side by side with your lover, his coat wrapped around both of you.  

There was something safe about sitting together with Rocinante like that. You were never sure if it was his height, the warmth of his body and his coat, or the way he’d always casually sneak his arm around you to hold you close.  

A cold wind coming through the open window snapped you out of your thoughts. You closed the window and left your room, hoping to find the person who had been occupying your thoughts for the past few minutes. You found him pretty easily, standing outside to smoke. You smiled and opened the door, peeking only your head out, wanting to stay in the warmth of your home.  

“Cora, I’m a little cold so I’m gonna make hot cocoa. Do you want some?” It was as much a question as it was a subtle hint. ‘I’m cold, so come snuggle me’.   Rocinante only nodded in response, still pretending to be mute in case someone overheard. 

Satisfied with the answer, you walked towards the kitchen, ready to make some hot cocoa. First you opened the fridge, noticing the milk was on the top shelf. You grabbed the little stool you had in the kitchen, just for occasions like these. The house was made for Rocinante’s size after all, and you were smaller. Once you got the milk, you went to grab two big mugs. Noticing the bottom shelf of the cupboard was empty, you groaned. You looked at your trusty stool, but realized that you’d have to get something bigger to reach the mugs. The chairs at the dining table would do.  

As you were pulling the chair to the cupboard, Rocinante entered. He smiled as you struggled with the size of his house. From the moment you had moved in with him, it had been an obstacle. But no matter how often he had offered to grab things for you, you’d always insisted on doing it yourself, climbing onto everything in the kitchen to get what you wanted.  

“Babe.”  

You were standing on the counter, your back facing him, holding on to the shelf you were looking into. Rocinante recognized the tone in your voice, and already was struggling to suppress his laughter. You slowly turned to face him, holding the bag of cocoa powder in one hand, while holding on to the shelf with the other.  

“Can you stop putting everything on the top shelf?!”  

Rocinante couldn’t hold it in anymore, laughing loudly at your outburst. He had been putting everything on the top shelves on purpose as a way of teasing you. For weeks now, he had been waiting for you to notice. And your reaction was worth it. Seeing you standing on the counter, a little frown on your face, holding on to the bag of cocoa powder. You looked so small. And so done with his shit.  

Noticing your struggle to safely climb off the counter, Rocinante walked towards you and picked you up, pulling you into a hug.  

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just that you look cute climbing on everything like that.”   “I am not cute!”   “If you say so. Now, let’s make that hot cocoa, you went through so much effort to grab everything, after all.” Rocinante couldn’t stifle his laughter anymore at the end of the sentence, laughing loudly while still holding you against his chest.  “Oh fuck you, Roci”  

[kisbunzies]

More silly tf2 headcanons because i know more about them than valve does.

Sniper is practically nocturnal. You wont see him all day but you will find him sitting on the couch in base with snacks and a movie going like it 3am , no shoes or shirt despite it being February and his camper being parked like a mile.away acting like its totally normal. Will literally nap anywhere during the after noon dont be surprised if one day you find him hanging upside down like a vampire.

Speaking of which this mans goes everywhere shirtless and shoeless . gas station ? Shirtless and shoe less . walmart ? Shirtless and shoeless .middle of winter ? Maybe he's got socks on. They have to yell at him to get dressed or atleast put on sunscreen so he doesn't get crustier than he already is.

Pyro's really good at open flame cooking , bonfire grill gas stove flambae torch they can make anything as long as it requires fire. Also pyros mexican and atleast half of their "strange noises" are just them mumbling to themselves in spanish.

Heavy likes cozy stuff , he's struggled enough if he wants hot cocoa and a knitted blanket he can have hot cocoa and a knitted blanket. Owns the fuzziest pair of bear slippers known to man. Also i feel like he's a salmon guy idk maybe he rlly is just a bear but guy.

Saxton hale likes men.

Scout if so painfully straight. And i dont mean straight as in sexuality i mean straight as in pure fucking aura. Ms pauling comes out as a lesbian and he says "oh shit i like girls too we should date" sees heavy and medic kiss and his brain doesn't acknowledge it. This is true even is scout likes dudes he's the 1970's equivalent of those guys nowadays who wear nothing but nike and use the word gyat unironically and im tired of pretending like he isn't.

Ms pauling wants to be a merc so bad she thinks that its so cool but her mom told her murders for boys so she's just the administrators assistant/hj

Demoman has the most curly , bouncy , volumous gorgeous hair under than beanie. He keeps it in cornrows most of the time but when he does wear his hair out its a sight to behold.

Engineer makes the corniest , most dad like jokes known to man , its literally horrible they all groan so loud whenever he does but he thinks its hilarious.

Sniper , scout , pyro and soldier are all sour gummy worm addicts to the point that their stash takes up and entire shelf in the base pantry. Go through a costco bag a week.

The local costco dreads their presence , engineer and sniper and in the outdoors section, medics necromancing the chickens , pyros was the one roasting those chickens before they got necromanced, they managed to lose heavy somehow , scout managed to convince spy to get into a toilet paper fort they made and now their introuble with management, soldiers ordering a forth of july cake despite it being october and demomans buying premade meal kits for dinner for him.and his mom over the week. Pyro saved him a necromanced rotisserie chicken. And yes sniper still isn't wearing a shirt or shoes they've given up.

Spy had eyebags and grey hair , misses when was young and spry , is a little jealous of medic managing to have a full head of dark hair.

Medics ethnically jewish. He gets his black market organs kosher .

And finally out of all the mercs soldier goes to.medic the most for actual injuries , scout goes the most for.minors , engineers got the most perscriptions including hearing aids and stuff for pyro he picks up , sniper never goes to the doctor and medic has to drag him in . spies the worse when it comes to appointments (doesn't like any part of him being seen and despit having spy training still doesn't like.needles) and medic favorite patient is heavy for obvious reasons

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

Chaeri's masterlist

❒ Requested ✓ you can find the request here

「 A compilation of BTS proving themselves as gentlemen for their Chaeri 」

⠪ Let's say that for the first few years after their debut Chaeri was not a great heel-wearer

⠪ She was young, plus the concept of their outfits did not focus on that style, so she had never felt the need to wear particularly high ones.

⠪ As she grew up and started to attend more and more important award ceremonies and events, the urge and need to wear them became evident

⠪ The first time she had to wear very high heels was preceded by a lot of practice in their company building. She did quite well on flat surfaces, the challenge was the stairs

⠪ And obviously at the event she couldn't avoid them

⠪ Luckily Namjoon seemed to be heaven-sent to make her life easier in everything, even in wearing heels

⠪ He was there, of course, waiting to hold her hand and walk down each step with her

⠪ It is still a habit of the guy to offer her help even though, as the years went by and her skills in walking on heels improved, she wouldn't even need it anymore

"You're making it off the stairs like a pro" "I don't think I could do it without you" "Just doing my duty as your favourite brother" "I will say 'favourite brother' if I'm gonna get down all the stairs without breaking an ankle"

⠪ As the eldest, Jin has a natural inclination to always keep an eye on all the other members

⠪ With Chaeri he seems to have to intervene more often than he would like

⠪ She doesn't seem like it, but when she's really into something she can get awfully clumsy with everything else

⠪ ESPECIALLY IN THE KITCHEN.

⠪ She is a real disaster as a chef, she can cook only a few dishes and poorly.

⠪ That's why, when she tries, she is so concentrated on trying not to burn anything or add too much flavour that she doesn't pay attention to anything else

⠪ In particular, during an episode of BTS in the soop, Jin had to prevent her from hitting the kitchen shelf with her head more than once by putting a hand between her and the furniture

"Maybe next time I'll just wear a helmet in the kitchen" "Or maybe you could just pay attention to where you're going." "Hey, I was distracted by the delicious smell of your cooking" "Flattery will get you everywhere. Now, let's finish making lunch before we have any more near-death experiences."

⠪ Very funny of Yoongi to always move Chaeri to the inner side of the road as he is the first to scold the others for being too protective of her

⠪ It's something he can't help, they start walking and at some point, at the first possible excuse, he shifts to the side of the road

⠪ The others always tease him about this and he pretends not to hear or simply glares at them to shut 'em up.

⠪ He is not the type to show protection for Chaeri dramatically, as other members do. He is for small things like this

⠪ Yoongi is the type to walk beside her keeping an arm around her shoulders

"Ooh, look at you, all responsible and stuff. You're such a good role model" "Aiish, just move to the inner side before I start regretting this friendship"

⠪ Chaeri among them is always the one who suffers most from the cold

⠪ Whether during the recording of a music video, a concert or an event, her outfits are always those with the thinnest fabric

⠪ During the making of music videos, Jimin always carries a blanket purchased with her in the group's early days

⠪ In MV shooting videos uploaded by the company channel, there is always this scene:

⠪ Jimin taking the adventure time blanket and covering Chaeri as soon as the cameras go down

"Let's finish shooting this and go get some hot cocoa" "Sounds like a plan. And don't worry, I'll make sure you're bundled up the whole time" "Geez, you're like my personal blanket service" "Hey, it's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it" "I love you"

⠪ Chaeri's love for snowboarding starts very early

⠪ As her career began, she decided to spend some of her money on snowboarding lessons

⠪ At her first lessons she was accompanied by Jin, who liked the sport and had already been playing it for a while

⠪ As soon as she put her feet on the board, she ended up with her butt in the snow, for so many times

⠪ In the end, Jin was "forced" to teach her to snowboard the way one teaches a child to walk: by holding her hand the whole time

"You know, you're actually a pretty good teacher" "Thanks, I try my best. And you're a pretty good student, for someone who keeps falling on their butt" "Hey, it's not my fault I have bad balance" "Sure, blame it on genetics."

⠪ Of the BTS members, Chaeri steals the most clothes from Hobi.

⠪ And he lets her do it, not caring so much.

⠪ Actually, seeing her with her clothes on only makes him more joyful.

⠪ With her, sharing is the basis of their friendship

⠪ As Chaeri always styles his jacket on crop tops, she is used to holding them open to show what she is wearing underneath

⠪ He, on the other hand, always rushes to close them and remind her that if she's wearing a jacket it's because it's cold and keeping it open doesn't even make sense

"Seriously, it's cold out here, you need to zip it up" "But I like it this way, it's a fashion statement" "Fashion statement my ass. You're gonna catch a cold, let me zip it up for you" "Oh, so now you're playing the protective big brother card, huh?" "You know it. I don't want my little sister to get sick on my watch"

⠪ Chaeri's dress was beautiful, as beautiful as short though

⠪ However, it was never a problem at award ceremonies as girls in skirts were provided with blankets to cover themselves from improper camera angles

⠪ Unfortunately for her that evening, the staff had not been provided with enough blankets for the entire number of women participating

⠪ Looking around, it was possible to notice the girls sharing the same quilt in two

⠪ She, the only female member, could not share it with anyone

⠪ So she did her best to keep her legs tightly closed and look around in case someone was filming her from the wrong side

⠪ It was not for long, because as soon as Jungkook realised that Chaeri would not be receiving any coverage, he took off his jacket and placed it directly over her legs

"Hey there, Miss Short Dress. You're gonna get us kicked out of here with that outfit." "Oh, shut up. You love it" "Well, yeah, but that's beside the point. I don't want you to get in trouble with the paparazzi" "You're such a gentleman. Offering me your jacket like that" "Well, what can I say? Chivalry isn't dead yet"

⠪ One thing Tae loves to do is to stop Chaeri's bodyguard before he can open her car door, to do it himself

⠪ It all started as a game in the group's early days, when the bond between the two was just beginning to form

⠪ Tae pretended to be her personal security guard and Chaeri pretended to be a world-famous celebrity

⠪ Well, over time, part of that game came true.

⠪ Growing up, however, Tae continued to have these attitudes, not just for laughs as they once did

⠪ But he loves giving her princess treatments

⠪ It's really hard to see anyone on staff getting Chaeri out of the car, then

⠪ Her Tae always takes care of it

"After you, m'lady. Allow me to open the door for you" "Oh, thank you sir" "I take my job as your personal bodyguard seriously. I might need to start wearing a suit and earpiece" "I'll make sure to get you a matching tie"

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Motley Crue Christmas 2022

After GnR, week 2 is about our Crue. I tried to write some stories here too :)

Tommy Lee: Naughy Elf

You were brushing your teeth, when you felt a pair of eyes on you. Quickly you turned around to find a little elf hanging from the towel holder.

“Tommy? What did I tell you about these elfs?” You groaned.

“I’m not Tommy. I’m the evil elf!” A voice said, coming from the bedroom near the bathroom. It was clearly Tommy’s.

“I know you put this elf here, he’s naked!”

He chuckled and quickly joined you in the bathroom. This Christmas season Tommy decided to do “elf on the shelf” but in his own way : continuous 18+ jumpscares of elfs naked, doing gross things or having “elf sex” ( Tommy’s words).

“Did you like it tho?” He nudged you.

“I hate how you manage to make them so funny. Next time I’d rather have you give me a good morning than the elf.” You hugged him.

“Dressed up as an elf, got it!”

“No Tommy, I didn’t meant that!”

Nikki Sixx : Bubble bath and candles

The sound of the falling rain mixed with the softly music playing from the speakers.

Nikki had you in a secure grip as you both let the warm water embrace you. The candles you put on the bathtub were bright enough to let you look at Nikki’s calm expression.

“I forgot last time I felt this relaxed.” He whispered. 

You couldn’t blame him, touring for a whole year was exhausting.

“Do you remember our first bath together?” You said, still blushing at the bittersweet memory.

“I faintly remember your body against mine, you washing my hair and it was in winter?” 

“Pretty much. You were a dirty fucker, I forced you in the bathtube with the promise of a kiss and I washed your hair. It was  last year, around  Christmas, a week or so before...” You didn’t finish your sentence.

 As much as you loved rembering the first time you kissed Nikki, you couldn’t forget what happened after, how he died and was brought back to life. Neither could Nikki, as he went to hug you closer.

“I’m here now. We will spend this Christmas together, you will still wash me but I got to hold you now and repay the favor.” He kissed the top of your head.

This Christmas would have been different.

Mick Mars: Christmas night in

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of you : Mick was almost hiding under the huge christmas blanket you loved so much. He spent most of the time despising it and calling you a “holiday addict”, but the table turned.

“Didn’t you hate this blanket?” You teased him.

“Look, I have to endure a christmas movie plus some hot cocoa. At least I want to be warm and give my back a break.” He replied, in his fake angry tone that you learned to pick up.

“First we will see the Grinch and you like that movie. Second I made coffee with a bit of chocolate so you will like it more. And lastly, admit you like the blanket.”

“It does its purpose but it’s annoyingly red and it has stupid reindeers on it.” He answered you.

“Fine, lie to yourself. I’m going to bring the coffee here, why don’t you put the movie on.” You said, going to the kitchen.

You came back with a tray, two hot coffee and some snacks in it, while Mick was waiting for you.

“I thought you wanted to hang out with your friends. Didn’t they invite you to a party?” 

“Yeah, but I love nights in. And I have everything I want right now : a cozy blanket, hot coffee and my Grinch.” You reassured him, getting under the blanket.

Mick rolled his eyes and started the movie, but you swore you saw a small smile forming on his face.

Vince Neil: Angel

“Guess what I found at the store!” You said as soon as you opened the door.

“ Christmas ornaments? Since you went for those?” Vince answered, looking from the TV to you.

“Right, but I found the perfect one. C’mon, open it!” You took out a small envelope and handed it to Vince. 

The blond slowly moved the paper away to show a beautiful ornamental angel. It has blond hair and white wings, some gold details and it was clear it was made by hand.

“Wow, you can tell this was handmade, it must have costed you so much.” Vince commented.

“Not at all, I found it in a thrift shop, they totally undervalued it. But that’s not the point. Didn’t you notice something?” You asked again.

“Ehm... no?”

“It looks like you!” You admitted.

“No, it doesn’t!” Vince retorted.

“Yes, it does : blond hair, sweet eyes, dressed in white, high maintenance. That’s you!” You explained.

“Calling me an angel, out of all people, it’s silly and you are wrong. I ain’t this angel thing.”

You stared at him for a second, trying to find the best comeback possible.

“If you don’t want an angel, we can always put a Barbie in there, near my heart shaped ball, to rappresent you.” You smirked.

“Fine, I’ll be the angel. But I’m also the devil you corrupted you!”

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Fluffuary 2023 Day 27: Snowed In- Elrohir x OC

Elrohir x Adaia

Description: If there's one thing Adaia doesn't like, it's snow.

Word Count: 1.1k

Challenge made by the lovely @darthglitterfanfictionnfiction

Adaia was once again spending a few days in Lord Elrond’s home while her parents were off doing business with some other kingdom. Of course, being fully grown, she didn’t actually need to be there, but she loved being around them. They were like a second family to her and vice versa. She’d been nothing short of happy while residing at the Last Homely House. 

That was, until today. The elleth (female Elf) almost immediately noticed the slightly biting chill in the air as she woke up. Her frame shook lightly with shivers as she sat up and looked around, her eyes ultimately landing on the open window that stood just a few feet away from her bed. She must have forgotten to close it last night. A small sigh left her lips as she plopped back down on her pillows. The thought of having to get up and feel the cold air wash over her body was not something she looked forward to. 

Nevertheless, after standing up she was quick to grab her robe and put it on as she padded over to her window. She began to close it when something white caught her eye. It seemed that winter had come early because apparently it had snowed sometime during the night. A fresh blanket laid on everything in sight. Adair’s nose scrunched up in distaste. Great. Just what she needed. 

If there was one thing Adaia hated, it was snow. It was cold, it was bland, and it was an overall nuisance to her. It covered all life, all the beautiful colors of nature. It was like the temporary death of everything. No sound, no color, no life.

Now don’t get her wrong, she loved winter. She thought the changing of the seasons were beautiful and she loved the shorter days and longer nights. It was just snow that she detested. 

And just like that her plans to spend as much time outside before it was too cold had gone out the window. She’d been too late. Adaia closed the window with a small huff. Before she could close the curtains as well she paused upon noticing two people running outside. It was Elladan and Arwen, who were looking around at the snow with a look that Adaia could only describe as wonder and utter joy. Though she couldn’t hear what they were saying she could see their mouths moving in excitement. Their stepmother Iris joined them just a moment later then the trio began to play in the snow. 

The sight admittedly brought a smile to the girl’s face as she watched them. Just because she didn’t like snow didn’t mean she wasn’t happy when it brought others joy. After a few minutes Adaia finally stepped away from the window, wishing for nothing more than a mug of her (semi) infamous cocoa to battle the chill that swept through the Last Homely House. 

After making a quick stop in the kitchen to make said drink, she opted to go to the Hall of Fire, where a fire already roared in the large and beautiful fireplace. Just before sitting down, she grabbed a book from a nearby shelf. It was one that she’d read before, more times than she could count, but it was a good story and she knew it would help pass the time. Though, she’d just barely got into the first few chapters before she was interrupted. 

“Not interested in going out and enjoying the snowfall?” Elrohir’s teasing voice questioned from behind her. A sarcastic smile formed on the girl’s face (though she knew he couldn’t see it as her eyes focused on the fore in front of her) and she shook her head amusedly. 

“You know I’m not,” she responded simply before taking a sip from her mug. Her fiancé merely hummed in response, though she could practically see his amused expression without needing to turn around and face him. 

“So what are you still doing inside?” She continued after setting her cup down. “Shouldn’t you be out building snowmen with your siblings or throwing snowballs at your father or Erestor?” That got a chuckle out of the ellon (male Elf) as he rounded the side of the couch she occupied and sat in the empty seat beside her. He picked up her feet (which previously laid where he now sat) and set them on his lap. 

“I’d much rather be spending time with you,” he responded simply. Adaia fought the urge to coo at his sweet response and instead merely smiled at him. After a moment she spoke. 

“Your father forced you inside, didn’t he?” She asked in a flat tone. She knew that Elrohir knew that he’d been caught because for a moment surprise flashed in his eyes despite his otherwise impassive demeanor. 

“Yeah, it started heavily snowing and he didn’t want us outside on the chance that we get snowed in,” he responded in the same tone, which made the girl laugh. 

“I knew it,” she muttered amusedly as her gaze went back to her book. 

“That doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to spend time with you,” he continued quickly. “I just now have an excuse to stay with you all day as my daily duties lay outside under the snowstorm.” Adaia rolled her eyes playfully, though she couldn’t hide her smile even if she tried. 

“I’m afraid you may be bored to death then. I do not plan on moving from this spot until dinner.” 

“Then I’d be glad to keep you company,” he responded simply. Adaia looked at him with that same small smile, though her expression morphed from amused to fondness. Elrohir didn’t say anything as he made himself comfortable leaning against his side of the couch’s arm. He then gestured to the book that still sat in his fiancé’s lap, and she got the message to hand it to him. Once it was in his right hand he held out his left arm invitingly. Adaia once again got the hint as she settled into his embrace. His arm wrapped around her as his other hand held the book up, and he began to read aloud to her. 

The elleth had to admit that the story sounded much better coming from him. He had that sort of comforting voice that she could listen to for hours on end - which she did. Just as promised neither of them moved until they were called for dinner. Though, they still had trouble getting up even then. Who would have thought a snow day would actually bring Adaia joy?

[soulsfractured]

Sephiroth carefully put Luneth to bed, tucking him in and turning the night light on as he left the room. It wasn't fully needed, as he left the door open a crack, and there was still daylight coming through the curtains. But it felt right to at least turn it on as he stepped back out.

Heading back he kicked his shoes off and shut the door, watching Tia as he pulled his slippers on. The photos on the shelf were just some of the few he kept up. They were people important to him- moments that had been captured that'd framed and put up where they could be seen. Him holding Luneth as an infant, Genesis and Angeal laughing over a coffee with him, Zack with an arm around his neck and a huge grin. In the middle of it all, next to Luneth's photo, was a picture of him in the labs years ago, with Lucas and Tia, all of them giving various degrees of smiles up at the camera, after Sephiroth had returned from his first mission.

"Tia." His voice was gentle- he had so many burning questions to ask but didn't want to frieak her out again. Whatever Hojo had done, had lied about, she was still in shock. "Would you like a hot cocoa?"

It was something he did after long days in the labs. A hot cocoa (usually with some alcohol, but he wasn't giving Tia that right now), and a heated blanket if he couldn't get into the tub for a long soak. He was sure he'd put the blanket away last time, it was an easy grab for her. "I can get you something to eat too, if you would like?"

As Sephiroth left to put his son to bed, she stayed near the door, somewhat in daze as memories of the apartment trickled back in. It truly hadn't changed much, aside from toys and small trinkets. Not even registering the slippers, she slowly stepped further into the home, wide-eyed and scared to touch anything.

After everything else that had happened throughout the day, Tia wondered if it were a dream. Or maybe some hallucination before she crashed out for the final time on the operating table. But then why would she see Sephiroth?

Ever since he had started his relationship with Luneth's mother, she had swallowed down any feelings she had, happy to just be his friend, happy to be there when he found out he would be a father, when he was left to raise his son alone. They were friends, and Tia had accepted that that was enough. So, if this was a dream, why would she see him now?

Dazed, confused, scared, she would wander around the living room before stopping to look at a set of photos sitting on a shelf.

[bowiebond]

MTF Billy Hargrove | Buckgrove/Robilly

“God, why is my future girlfriend, like, the prettiest girl ever?” Robin sighed dreamily as she watched Billie scan the aisles with Max, pushing her wheelchair along as she complained about the movie options her older sister was giving her. “It’s like…seriously not good for my heart, Steve.”

“I mean, I didn’t think she’d be your type, but sure. Billie’s pretty, I guess.” Steve shrugged as he flipped through the rentals. “I swear— the guy who rented Critter a month ago? Still late. I’m gonna write him a very strongly worded letter if he doesn’t come back this week.”

“Can we go back to the topic of how hot my future wife is?”

“Hot? We were talking about how pretty your delusional crush is. Hot is different.”

“It’s not delusional! It’s very possible!” Robin squawked. “And who cares, she’s both.”

“Hot means you wanna fuck her. Pretty means you wanna wrap her in your jacket and take her home for snuggles and hot cocoa.” Steve simplified and Robin frowned.

“Why can’t I have both? Wrap her in my jacket, take her home, snuggle her with some hot coca and then when it’s all gone I can—“

“No—“

“Sneak under the blanket and—“

“Robin, stop!”

“Touch her—“

“Ew!”

“Boobies!” Robin made grabby hands and Steve snorted.

“Boobies.”

“Boobies.” Robin smiled, finally getting it. “Billie likes boobies. Maybe. I think so.”

“Billie was a huge ladies man so—“

“Not a man!”

“Okay, not a man now, but she acted like one in the past!” Steve put his hands up in surrender. “She was a lady killer, okay?”

“Better.” Robin huffed out through her nose, turning back to rest her chin on her palm. “But what if she was like- double closeted? Like, what if when she realised she was a girl, she also realised she wants all the stuff normal girls want like…guys.”

“Don’t say it like you’re not normal. I mean, you’re weird and loud and annoying, all traits I find very loveable about you as my best friend, but you’re not abnormal cause you like girls, Robin.”

“I know that.” She grumbled softly, slightly touched regardless. Billie laughed at something Max said and Robin broke into a small, dopey smile. “She’s perfect.”

“She gave me a concussion once.”

“That’s hot.”

“Dude!”

“Dude.” Robin repeated slower, making steady eye contact. Steve matched it and eventually pursed his lips and nodded.

“It’s hot.”

“So hot.”

“She kicked my ass.” Steve sighed.

“So very hot.” Robin bit her lip as Billie bent down to grab a VHS off the bottom shelf, her tight jeans stretching over her ass. Robin turned to Steve to point it out only to see him already watching with appraisal. Robin smacked him hard in the arm.

“Ow!”

“Stop acting so gross to the love of my life!”

“She’s got a nice butt.” Steve spoke around a small pout, looking away.

“My butt. Eyes off.”

“I think I preferred when you were into Vickie.”

“Vickie is still finding herself and needed the space. We will always be friends, but we just aren’t compatible for a relationship right now.”

“But in future?” Robin turned to Steve with a serious expression.

“I marry Billie and we buy three cats named Marshmallow, Chocolate and Cracker. We call them the S’mores instead of our cats or kids. Also, we get a house together, something cozy but with enough room for two to four guests at a time. The kitchen is teal and the lounge room is red. We’re nicknamed the Christmas house because of it. Our neighbours love us for our classic wit and humour, but we have one neighbour who hates us because we go at it during his reading hour and lesbian sex goes a long time, hours in fact, so he’s not getting anything finished and we do not care because female pleasure will not be ignored. Also, we have motorcycle. She would rock it and I would drool as her passenger but never ride it because I’m a gay who can’t drive to save my life.”

“…You’ve really been thinking about this, huh?” Steve crossed his arms, looking her over as Robin nodded solemnly.

“Night and day since I saw her in that white summer dress a week after she got out of the hospital.”

“Well…What do you think, Billie? Sound fun? The S’mores is my favourite part.” Steve smirked as he picked up the returns and walked off. Robin’s eyes widened comically as she slowly turned around to face the blonde who looked just as startled as her.

“Um…I like the part with the motorcycle. And, I like red. More into blue than teal. I can compromise though.” She rubbed the back of her neck with a shy, playful smile and Robin’s face burned.

“Mm. Mhm. That’s— b-blues nice. You look…good in blue. R-really good. I love you - in blue! I mean. Yeah. A- a motorcycle sounds…awesome.” She breathed the last word with a nervous laugh, sinking into herself. She wished the floor would crack open again and swallow her up this time around.

“Thank you?” Billie let out a soft laugh, seemingly caught off guard by Robin’s anxious rambling. She placed the two movies down on the counter, one Max’s choice and another Billie’s. Robin started scanning them.

Max rolled as close to the counter as she could get before clearing her throat.

“Billie hasn’t been on a real date in a long time—“

“Max!” Billie hissed, cheeks going red as her sister continued.

“And I think you should ask her on one. Since you already plan on marrying her. You have my blessing by the way; as long as you don’t hurt her heart. It’s delicate. Like a flower.”

“Oh my god, please stop talking.” Billie groaned loudly into her hands, her red ears giving away her embarrassment.

“You can count on me, little Red.” Robin saluted her and Max smirked, rolling off to round the corner and attempt to roll over Steve’s toes.

“Please ignore her. Seriously. You don’t gotta—“ Billie took her hands down from her face, lips pursed. “I don’t know if you’re straight or gay or bisexual but I don’t want to date you if you’re thinking of me as a guy—“

“I like girls.” Robin interjected quickly, maybe a tad too quickly, words coming out cluttered. “I— kiss girls. Exclusively. I like girls. I like…you. A lot. I’d like to kiss you. Eventually! Not now. We should, um, build up to that stuff, I definitely don’t have the experience to just- jump in and smoosh faces.” She laughed, abrupt and loud, and quickly stopped, humiliating herself. “Sorry, I’m being weird. I just— get nervous. Around pretty girls.”

Billie stared at her with wide eyes.

“I mean…I’m glad you think I’m pretty?” Billie broke to a wondrous smile and Robin melted a little inside.

“You’re super pretty! Pretty hot. Uh, both. I should stop talking.”

“If you stop talking, how will you ask me on a date?” Robins eyes bugged out of her head.

“You wanna— with me?” She pointed at herself in bewilderment, looking back as if there could be someone else she was asking.

“I don’t know. You haven’t asked yet.” Billie grinned and Robin grinned back, a tad shyer as she ducked her head.

“Would you…like to see a movie sometime?”

“Drive-In, home movie, or cinema?” Billie quirked a brow and Robin’s brain record scratched.

“Uh, I don’t have a car. So I’ve never seen a…Drive-In show.”

“Well now you gotta.” Billie smirked. “Lemme pick you up tomorrow, after your shift?”

“Yeah?” Robin bloomed like a flower at the invitation.

“Yeah.” Billie’s smirk dimmed into a soft smile. “I’ll wear blue. Since you like it so much.”

“You can wear any colour. I like all of them! You— you looked good. Not the colour. Um, if that makes sense.”

“It does.” Billie grinned, fishing out some cash from her wallet. She handed it over and Robin’s fingers brushed hers. The brunette almost swooned. God, she was down bad. “See you tomorrow, Buckley.”

“R-Robin’s fine. If you, uh, if you want.”

“Okay. Robin.” She purred and Robin managed to stay composed just long enough for Billy to leave her to grab Max before crouching down behind the counter and silently screaming into her hands, shaking them all about in excitement.

She had a date. A real, genuine one!

She was one step closer to making Billie Hargrove a Billie Buckley.

Score!

[mxaizupublishionhouse]

Can I request Childe x reader that Childe has go to mission and he is go for month. So, reader miss him so much. When Childe go home, He found them cry because they really miss him. Maybe Hurt/Comfort. 👉👈💦💦

 

Warm Home

Words count : 886 words

Character : Childe / Tartaglia

Theme : Angst w/ comfort

Note : I really want to put the feeling of loneliness in this one!Hope you like it, anon! 🌨

Even after so long being in relationship with the 11th Harbinger man, you secretly still feel empty and not wanting him to go doing his task as a Fatui in faraway land. You believe in his strength and as a lover, you will always cheer even for the shaddy works he is doing under the command of Lady Tsaritsa. But, the ink of the pen that you used to write letters back to him is not able to describe your loneliness whenever he’s gone for a month or so. The outside world is dangerous and you know it. Even the pure white snow in the endless winter of Snezhnaya is always ready to freeze anyone unprepared to their last breath. But, you can't stop him with your strength alone just for your selfish self of wanting him to stay by your side.

  Few weeks ago.That was the last time you saw his face and deep ocean blue eyes that held love dearly to you. He informed you that he will go for a month-long mission in another region to investigate certain works. You want to voice your uneasy feelings but this was the millionth time he told you about missions that require longer time periods in far places where you can travel with your own two legs, and in the end, he still came back safe and sound into your arms. But, you still can't get comfortable with his presence gone from your side and him being so far away, making the fear for the worst make you feeling cold and hollow.

The house that you both shared feeling empty and greyish without his comforting presence. You remember his teasing words that bring a smile to your face and how your poor cheeks hurt from him pinching with excuses of you being ‘too cute’ and ‘I love you so much’. The habit of lifting you up in bridal style with his strong arms never failed to give the same butterflies into your stomach, even after months. His lingering scent is stilll there, accompanying you gently like a warm blanket. 

The breakfast tasted bland in your tongue as you sat alone at the dining table. You sipped the tea from Liyue that Childe brought home before this after you finished your sandwich.. “It's just for a month,” you convinced yourself mentally, trying to calm yourself down but the tears in your eyes can't help but drip down onto the wooden table. The heavy feeling in your chest now piled up, giving you hard times to breathe properly.

What if he never misses home anymore? What if he already meets someone else in the far land? What if...he never comes home anymore..

  Your hand gripped your shirt tightly, letting the heavy tears streaming down your glassy eyes down your chin and leaving wet patches on your laps. “Please, come home safe,Childe..”

  A smile appeared on your face when the smell of Childe's favourite dish was done on the stove and ready to devour it. Your eyes were a bit puffy and red from the previous crying session, worrying about your lover but after a few minutes of pushing the bad thoughts into the back of your head, you distracted yourself with normal house chores. You hum to yourself soft lullaby and you read a book from the shelf with a cup of hot cocoa.

  You untied the apron on your back carefully before hanging the apron back its place on the wall. You washed the dishes on the sink and noticed how the moon outside the window looked pretty as a full moon tonight. You chuckled to yourself when you remembered how Childe used to wrap his arms around your waist from behind to help clean up the dishes. You enjoy the food in front of the burning fireplace silently while your mind travels back into the memories, making your chest sting again just like before. You put down the empty plate and gently wiped the small water droplets.

Time for bed. You laid down onto the cold bed with a small sigh. Everyday feels like a routine by now. You curled to yourself under the blanket with a deep frown, hoping for at least something would comfort you tonight. Before you realize it, tears blur your vision just as sadness overwhelmed you. Cannot keep the feeling to yourself, you let out soft sobs while hugging a pillow tight to yourself. The tears flowing out just like the heavy feeling in your chest. 

 “Ajax..I miss you..Please come home”

Just like a god heard your whimpers, a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you close to a hard chest. The gloved hand patting your head in comforting motion and the other one holding you close. Your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and happiness as your arms pulled him closer too. His scent, his presence, his warmth and his comforting heartbeats. Everything just feels like a real home. 

 “Welcome home” you muffled on his shoulder and he responded with a happy chuckle. A loving kiss landed onto your forehead and his chest vibrated from his heavenly laugh. He gently wiped your tears with his gloved thumbs before giving you a longing and loving kiss on your lips. “I’m finally home”

[juminsmysticmc]

𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 𝓠𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮

by me @juminsmysticmc

for the 08. December 2021

Pairing: Zen x Mc

Warnings: /

Author's Note: So for this one I thought I would write about Zen and Mc being in quarantine, even through I hate everything related to Corona ( this topic makes me rather sick lol ) but for once I thought I had a rather good idea related to this, ahaha! Enjoy!

,,I can‘t believe that the manager is positive… and we have to be in quarantine just because we saw each other yesterday!‘‘ Zen grumbled as he put the groceries Jumin sent you into the fridge.

You and Zen were not allowed to step out of your apartment for two weeks and were rather lucky that you had such good friends who made sure to put everything in front of your door so that you had enough to eat and drink.

,,Hyun, it‘s the best for the two of us and the people. Besides, we’re getting paid for doing nothing. Why are you whining?‘‘ you asked your boyfriend as you put the cookies into the oven.

,,Because both of us have tested negative twice by now and I hate doing nothing, no gym, no shopping, no work, nothing!‘‘ he kept whining.

You quickly put the milk outside again. He just put it into the fridge and tried to take the cocoa on the highest shelf to prepare some hot chocolate for the both of you.

,,Do you hate it when you are with me here? I get that you feel as if you’re in a cage, but I thought being together would be more funny than boring,‘‘ you mumbled, kind of hurt by his words.

Zen quickly regretted his words as he turned you around so you would face him.

His red eyes were looking deep into yours. ,,Mc, I didn‘t mean it like that. I’m sorry if I didn‘t express myself right…‘‘ he mumbled.

,,I know. Let‘s just drink hot chocolate, eat my cookies, and watch some Christmas movies, okay?‘‘ you asked him sweetly. Your hands were cupping his cheeks as Zen agreed to your idea.

And just like you asked him to do, the both of you enjoyed the day on the couch together. A warm blanket laid over your cold, naked feet as you enjoyed the warm, sweet hot chocolate.

,The first snow…‘‘ you whispered when your eyes somehow met the outside of the window.

,,We are watching the first snow together. This means that we will stay together forever…‘‘ Zen whispered as he kissed your cheek.

,,You’re tickling me…‘‘ you laughed and patted his face with your free hand, enjoying his warmth and love.

,,This Christmas movie is kinda boring… can‘t the both of us just do something else on this cold December day?‘‘ he asked you and you knew that Zen knew something that you wouldn't dare say out loud….

ᗰᗩᔕTEᖇᒪIᔕT

08.12.2021// 01:30 MEST

[mimiseda]

Words: 1,607

Title: The Red Velvet Christmas Spirit

❗️Trigger Warning❗️: Character Death

Jake presses his forehead against the window of a small, antique shop. He stares directly at a gingerbread house- no, mansion. It’s the most decorative, elegant piece of food he’s ever seen. Right next to it are fruitcake carved to resemble cars, and chocolate chip cookies to represent bushes.

It looks delicious. But, Jake is almost %100 sure that it’s stale or maybe even fake. Everytime he goes by this shop, it’s there. He’s intrigued.

‘I’m gonna go in.’ He tells himself. He pushes himself away from the window and steps his bare feet into the snow. It doesn’t bother him one bit, he can’t even feel the cold anymore, despite being in his pajamas. The only “warmth” Jake gets is his silk, gray pants he wore and his red robe. The white shirt underneath is so thin, it doesn’t contribute much.

He’s perfectly content with this. He gets to wear pajamas, and nobody pays attention to him. In this big, snowy shopping district, everyone is focusing on getting their gifts. Many don’t stop to see the Christmas lights or a robotic Santa waving at them. They’re busy raiding colorful stores, uncaring of who’s in their way. A win-win for Jake, he thinks. Jake opens the door of the shop and walks in. He’s careful not to bump into any antiques, especially the maiden dolls gathered around the floor.

Jake raises a brow. This is an accident waiting to happen.

He looks around the store. So many figures and mini statutes. He sees a Santa with red paint chipped from his shoulder. Rudolph and the other reindeers. On a shelf lies plush blankets with the holiday’s designs. Trees, presents, one of them is all black with cups of hot cocoa and marshmallows. Jake stares at that one a little too long. He’d love some hot cocoa right now.

He looks away, eyes catching ruby and emerald jewelry. Eh. Not his interest. With an exhale, he finally directs his attention towards the ginger mansion. The thing is big enough to be a proper dollhouse. He wouldn’t be surprised to find miniature furniture in there. Jake leans in. Close enough to waft the smell towards him.

Brown sugar, fruit, and candy.

His mouth feels like it’s watering. There’s nothing but a savory feeling, all of that sugar and he can’t even eat it. Jake sighs. Back to looking around again.

He navigates away from the gingerbread mansion. He reaches to the back of the store, where he finds a wooden stand with orange lights wrapped around it. Behind are two elderly women, one tall, the other short. They’re laughing and chatting, Jake can’t make out what they’re saying because of one thing.

Behind them is a shelf of toys, nutcrackers, and a single snow globe. It’s a little bigger than most he’s ever seen. Inside the glass is a puppy cuddling a kitten in a pile of fake snow. They’re both made of silver. The smaller animal has its ears down, while the other is up and lively. Jake stares at it in awe, it’s the perfect gift. He needs that. Now.

In a single reckless move, he puts both hands on the counter and damn near hurls himself over. He accidentally bumps into the shelf, causing it to shake and the elderly women to scream. They move out of the way of the falling shelf while Jake sits there. He focuses entirely on that snow globe slipping off its stand. As soon as it fell, Jake catches it while the shelf crashes upon him.

He’s okay.

Jake isn’t even bothered. He sits in a big hole between the wooden splinters. The snow globe remains untouched, no damage taken whatsoever. The rest of the items are broken and shattered, pieces are scattered in a dangerous circle around him. He just ruined the shop, but he does care? Absolutely not, he wants to live a little.

This is for a special someone anyway.

Jake gets up, allowing glass and ceramic pieces to fall from his messy hair. Happy, he began leaving the shop with the snowglobe, ignoring the ladies arguing behind him. Jake swings open the shop’s door, leaving it open long enough for a man dressed as an Elf to waddle in and gasp at the mess.

“The hell happened in here!?”

“Linda’s messing with shit again, that’s what happened!”

“Don’t listen to her! Come on in Ray, don’t listen to her!”

. . .

There you are.

Lying in bed, pale and possibly cold. The wintry breeze through the window he opened doesn’t help, but he knows you can’t feel. You’re both similar, but in different planes of the world. Jake leans against the wall, holding the snow globe in hand. His expression is solemn, but he doesn’t want to cry. Not now, he’ll save these tears for something special.

You don’t move in an inch. Not that you could in such a small hospital bed. Jake thinks they should make bigger ones. For you, most definitely, but for others too. ‘I guess’. He says. Next to you are three people sitting in chairs. The businessman who is his father, a dark-skinned woman who is Jake’s mother, and a casually dressed young man, Jake’s brother. His mother and his brother are tearing up, while his father leaned forward with a prayer.

Jake feels like he should cry now. But no, not when he’s about to reunite with you again. He pushes himself off the wall and walks over to a night stand. He sets the snowglobe down, reaches around it and winds it up. He kept turning until it stopped and wouldn't budge.

Your fingers twitch. He knows and you know. He knows you know.

It’s time for Jake to take you.

He shakes the globe and lets go of the switch. A beautiful tune plays, soft, yet cheery. The snow falls elegantly around the silver pup and kitten, glitter sticks to the metal to glorify its shine. The song drowns out your heart monitor, luring Jake into a peaceful trance.

He’s impatient, but he can wait.

Jake’s mother wraps her hand around yours, squeezing it occasionally. The woman says a few words to you that Jake recognizes in his language. ‘I love you. I love you so much. Say hi to my son for me. I love you.’

Jake lowers his head. He can’t stand to hear her cry, it tears at his soul, his heart. Music. Music. Oh yes, the music. The ethereal tune continues playing while the switch moves slowly. It’s halfway done. Jake focuses on you entirely. You’re still unresponsive, he can tell the song is getting to you. Only you and him can hear it now.

Jake’s father kept going with his prayer. He’s mumbling words, his face is red and flushed. Jake knows what he’s saying, he’s hoping for a good afterlife for you. He’s wishing you the best, while simultaneously wishing for you to come back. Like Jake, his father is family oriented. Even though he doesn’t show it much, the fact that he’s sitting there hoping for your recovery is enough to show. He acted very much the same when Jake passed.

The music stops. The tune fell with a high-pitched melody, soon fading into silence. The snow surrounding the baby animals also ceased, it all made a snow pile again.

At the same time, you flatlined. The heart monitor stopped beeping, the noise is quickly replaced by Jake’s mother’s cries. A nurse rushes in to console his family, while another hurries in the grab supplies. Jake stares ahead. This is the last time he’ll see them, but it won’t last forever.

“Where’d you get that?”

Jake turns around and finds you behind him. Looking alive and neat as ever. As per the Christmas spirit, you also wore pajamas. Seeing your face again.. Jake smiles. And he smiles big. The tears finally come to his dark-brown eyes, but not in sadness. He’s happy. This is the happiest he’s ever been since he left you. “Antique shop. I-it was, I got- (Y/n), come here.” He pulls you into a tight hug. He feels your arms around him soon after, gripping his clothes in an emotional way.

“I missed you, Jake.” You say to him, burying your face in his red robe. Jake doesn’t comment on the dampness on his shirt, he gives you a moment to collect yourself. He’s been gone for a while, he left the world before you did. But you’re here now, that’s all that matters to him.

“I missed you too.” Over your shoulder, Jake catches a glimpse of his saddened family, especially his mother. He needs to leave. He doesn’t want to spend the day in melancholy. “Grab your gift. I’ll take you to the shopping district around the corner.”

You pull away. No more tears, no wet shirt. Most of your human qualities are gone, but you can touch him. That’s all you ever needed. Letting go of Jake, you reach up and briefly kiss his lips, to which he responds with a small chuckle. You grab the snowglobe, take one last look at your body, then turn to Jake.

You’re ready.

“What store are we going to?” You ask while Jake hops himself on the window frame.

“The mall. It has this bakery I want you to look at. I bet it’s got some gingerbread mansions too..”

“You mean gingerbread house?”

“Whatever it’s called.” Jake gestures you towards him, waiting until you’re right by his side. He grabs your hand gently, then squeezes once you hold his.

“Come on, I got the whole day to spend with you.”

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Seven times someone spoke to a Marauder alone in a portrait and one person who spoke to them all together

In a world where all the Marauders died in the first war, their souls are preserved in portraits in Hogwarts. Their stories are legend if a bit tweaked, and their names are famous if a bit forgettable. But they were painted individually, and housed all over the castle, separated for all eternity from each other.

(Also, there are seven Marauders because Lily, Severus, and Regulus. Fight me.)

(FOR CONTEXT: Regulus married a Muggle named Amir and had a daughter with him named Hailee. Regulus and Sirius never fell out and Regulus calls Remus “Mum” because reasons. Sirius and Remus married and died without children and James and Lily had Harry with their partner, Severus. Peter had a nonbinary partner named Max, but they died in the war.)

ONE: Regulus Black (Room of Requirement) & Draco Malfoy [Second Year - Youth (Daughter)]

Draco is coming back from Quidditch practice after calling Hermione a Mudblood. He’s walking alone down a hallway empty of doors when one suddenly materializes in front of him. He walks inside, too curious not to, and finds a room with two chairs in front of a crackling fire.

Over the fire hangs a portrait of a young man with pale skin, ebony hair, and striking grey eyes. Draco sits down in one of the chairs and picks up the cup of hot cocoa from the coffee table, looking up at the portrait, which has now started moving.

“Who are you?” He asks, and the portrait shoots him a grim look.

“My name is Regulus Black. Do you know who I am?”

Draco shakes his head. Regulus hums, tugging at something around his wrist.

“I’m a Death Eater who defied Voldemort,” he says, pulling his sleeves up to reveal a blank wrist. “They didn’t paint me with that wretched Mark, thank Merlin.”

Draco puts his cocoa down, nervous, and finds his eyes darting around the room for a door.

“How do I get out of here?” He asks with all the politeness he can muster, and Regulus offers him a wry smile.

“Right through that door,” he says gently, pointing to the door now etching itself out of the wall. “But please remember, Draco - you make your own choices in life. You decide who you are. Not a House, not a name, not a Mark. You. Do not forget that like I did.”

Draco nods, backing towards the door.

“But you defected,” he says, feeling small. Regulus smiles sadly, his eyes cutting.

“Yes, I did. And I paid for it with my life. And the life of my partner, and my daughter, and my brother and my mum and my best friends. I paid, Draco. I’m still paying.”

Draco has his hand on the door knob. “Huh,” he says, and opens the door when Regulus adds, “Oh, and Draco, dear? Don’t call people Mudbloods. There’s no such thing. And it’s rude.”

Draco nods frantically and closes the door so hard he lands flat on his ass in the hallway, watching the door seal itself and fade back into stone.

TWO: James Potter (Gryffindor Quidditch “Hall” of Fame, Gryffindor Common Room) & Seamus Finnigan [Fourth Year - Never Not (Lauv)]

Seamus finds himself alone in the Gryffindor common room one Wednesday morning, pretending to be sick with a cold. He’s wrapped in a blanket and staring into the empty fireplace when he hears, “YO! KID!”

Startled, he falls off the couch, and stumbles up and over to the Quidditch trophy case in the corner. There, in a small frame, is the smiling face of a boy who looks just like Harry, except without the mark, with dark eyes, and happier. Seamus reads the plaque, James Potter, and smiles sadly, wondering if Harry has ever talked to this portrait before.

James, meanwhile, barrels forward, “You’re the one in love with that lanky black kid, right?” Seamus’ eyes snap up as he sputters, but James just grins. “Cool. I thought so. Can I give you some advice…?”

“Seamus.”

“Can I give you some advice, Seamus?”

Seamus, now bright red, says, “Um, sure?”

James’ eyes twinkle and he says, “Tell him.”

Seamus starts coughing, beating his chest as James laughs and he protests, “No! No, I can’t just tell my best friend I’m in love with him!”

James shrugs. “You can,” he says. “You wanna know a secret?” He leans in just a bit. “My best friends fell in love.”

Seamus startles. “What?” He breathes, and James grins.

“Yeah. Sirius Potter and Remus Lupin. Wasted six bloody years apart before finally giving in and admitting it. They’re the most in love people I’ve ever met.” His brow wrinkles. “Well, except Sev and Lily and me.” It wrinkles further. “Nah, I gotta give ‘em this one.”

Seamus gapes in shock for a moment before blurting, “That werewolf and the Black runaway were in love?! And you - fuck, you were with Severus Snape???” James stares at him for a moment before blinking and then bursting into laughter.

When he finally calms down, he looks back up at Seamus’ flushed face and says, “Sirius is a Potter and a Lupin, not a Black. And he and Remy loved each other more than anything. And yeah, Sev and Lily and I had some real fun times.” He tilts his head in consideration and says, “Actually, now that I think about it, some of those happened right on that couch over there. It’s weird they haven’t gotten a new one, huh?”

Seamus sputters for a third and final time and skitters away with a tomato-red face as James shouts after him, “TELL HIM, KID! SHOVE HIM AGAINST A WALL AND SNOG HIM SENSELESS!”

(Seamus, later, to Harry: “Your dad is fucking wack, bro.”)

THREE: Lily Evans (Library, Restricted Section) & Cedric Diggory [Fourth Year - Someone To You (BANNERS), Good Old Days (Kesha, Macklemore)]

Cedric sneaks into the Restricted Section to hide from all the pressure of the tournament. One night he’s thumbing through the books in his boredom when he finds an unframed portrait of a smiling redhead. As soon as he lifts her out of the book, titled The Marauders: A Complete History of Unfiltered Pranks (by Minerva Mcgonogall for Minerva Mcgonogall, signed by Regulus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Lupin (Love you Minnie!), and Lily Evans), the portrait pipes up, “Hi! I’m Lily!”

Cedric nearly drops the book in shock, but manages to catch it at the last second, mustering up a smile for the grinning portrait and introducing himself. She beams and glances at the book in his hand, her smile turning mischievous. “That’s a good one. We did get up to a lot, didn’t we?”

Speechless, he nods, not really processing that she’s just admitted to being Lily Evans, and her eyes dull with sadness at the sight of one of the injuries on his collarbone from the most recent challenge.

“Where’d you get that?” She asks, and he explains the tournament. She hums, and finally murmurs, “I heard them say my son is in that. Is that true?”

Mouth dry, Cedric nods, and Lily looks up at him again with glassy eyes and rasps, “Can you tell him I love him? That I’m proud of him and so are his fathers? Can you tell him that for me?”

Cedric nods again, hearing a creak and turning his head towards the noise when Lily whispers, “Go. Go, Cedric, before you get caught. Be brave, honey.” Cedric shoves the portrait back into the book and the book back onto the shelf with a muttered goodbye before sprinting away, Lily’s words echoing in his ears like a dying child’s scream.

FOUR: Sirius Black (Mcgonogall’s Office) & Ginny Weasley [Fifth Year - Alone (Bazzi)]

Ginny is sitting in Mcgonogall’s office, waiting for her professor to come and scold her for punching Zabini (he touched Luna’s ass, what was she supposed to do? Ask him to kindly stick his nose up where the sun don’t shine? She’d still be here, and he’d still be snickering like the slimy motherfucker he is in that dungeon cell he calls his bedroom). She hears a cough from somewhere on Mcgonogall’s desk and straightens up, ducking her head to peek around when she hears, “Pssst. Over here.”

She looks over and sees a framed picture of Sirius Black, grinning as if he’d never died. She swallows down her tears and nods her head in a polite hello. Sirius’ smile saddens as he says, “I hear you’re dating my godson.”

Ginny blushes, but nods, and for a moment, Sirius looks like he’s about to cry. “Why are you here, Ginny?” He asks softly, and she shrugs.

“Punched a Slytherin who touched my friend’s ass.”

Sirius grins at that, nodding his head in respect. “Good girl. You ever think about why that is?”

Ginny’s brow furrows and she opens her mouth to ask what he means when she sees his eyes wandering to a sketch of a wolf howling at the moon on Mcgonogall’s far wall, with the note For you, Minnie. Moony didn’t want it. Love, Sirius.

“I fell in love with a boy once,” Sirius murmurs. “My best friend. Remus Lupin. And he loved me back.”

I know, Ginny wants to say. You two were married and gave baby Harry joint Christmas presents and danced in the kitchen when you thought no one else was still awake. I’ve heard the stories, I’ve seen the pictures. I know. But instead she stays quiet, listening as Sirius tells his story.

“But instead of admitting that, I dated Marlene McKinnon for three years. Sold my gay ass out to a lesbian whore because I was too afraid to tell him how I felt about him.” Ginny has a lot of questions about the “lesbian whore” part - “I mean, she was a friend of mine, but I never wanted to kiss her, or sleep with her, but I did anyway. And he looked so fucking sad all the time. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t wanna ruin my happiness. I didn’t know how to tell him that he was my happiness. By the time I figured it out, it was too late.”

Ginny swallows, finally speaking up, “Why are you telling me this?” Sirius finally tears his eyes away from the picture of the wolf and the moon and gives her a bitter smile.

“Because I’m dead and my husband and I spent a mere three years together in all of the ten we knew each other. What kind of bullshit is that?”

Ginny shrugs. “Some bullshit,” she answers, and laughs uncomfortably.

Sirius laughs too, then sighs. He looks deep into her eyes and says, “I love my godson. You make sure he knows that. But I also love my husband. And I spent too damn long running from that. So let me save you a bit of trouble, Ginny - the greatest love is often the scariest.”

Ginny purses her lips. “What are you saying?” She says slowly, and Sirius smiles sadly as Mcgonogall’s heels come clicking down the hall.

“I’m saying maybe you shouldn’t waste your time on Harry when both your and his hearts lie elsewhere.”

Ginny blushes, looking down at the homemade bracelet Luna made her three summers ago, and at the sound of the door opening, she looks back up at a frozen Sirius, whose eyes are caught on Mcgonogall, somehow still twinkling.

FIVE: Peter Pettigrew (Outside Gryffindor Dorms) & Ron Weasley [Fifth Year - lovely (Billie Eilish, Khalid)]

Ron is sulking on the stairs outside the Gryffindor common room after a particularly bad Quidditch loss. He wishes he were with Hermione and Harry, but they were already tangled together when he came upstairs and he didn’t want to intrude, even though they invited him to.

He knows they’re all best friends, he just feels so much like the third wheel sometimes. So he’s sulking when he hears a soft, “Hey.”

He looks up in surprise and sees a portrait of Peter Pettigrew, and he immediately steels his eyes, backing away. Seeing this, Peter shouts, “Wait, no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I know! I just - I didn’t actually betray them, you know? Okay, well, I did, but - but I fixed it! They forgave me! I promise I’m not evil, I’m not, Ron -”

“How do you know my name?” Ron blurts, and Peter jumps back in his frame, startled, then smiles softly.

“They say it,” he answers. “Harry, and that girl you’re always with. They say your name all the time.”

Ron blushes. “Oh,” he says, ducking his head with a smile. When he looks back up into Peter’s sad eyes, he says, “We lost today. Quidditch.”

Peter cocks his head. “To who?”

Ron shrugs, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his fingers over his knees. “Slytherin. Never lost against Slytherin before.”

Peter shrugs. “James and Sirius did. All the time.”

Ron looks up. “Really?” Peter smiles softly.

“Yeah. Mostly because they wanted Severus and Regulus to feel good, but. Yeah, they lost to Slytherin all the damn time.”

Ron’s smile fades. “Severus? Like, Snape? The Death Eater?”

Peter winces, then shrugs. “The Order spy. But, yeah.”

Ron blinks in shock. “They were friends? Even after Lily?”

Peter’s brow furrows in confusion, but he answers anyway, “Yes? They were dating. Them and Lily. Sent the whole school up in flames.”

Ron’s jaw drops open. “You can do that?”

Peter shrugs. “Yeah, ‘course you can. You can date Harry and that girl if you want. No one’s stopping you.”

Ron flushes, looking down in shame.

“They don’t want me,” he mumbles. “Not the way they want each other.”

Peter hums. “Severus said that too. So did James. They were both idiots.” Looking up at Ron’s glistening eyes and pouting lips, he smiles.

“Just because you’re not the smartest or the strongest or the funniest or the best at anything in particular doesn’t mean you’re not important, or that people don’t care about you.”

Ron nods, slowly. He stands and heads back inside without another word, pretending he doesn’t hear Peter sigh and say, “You’re welcome,” bitterly as he mumbles the password to the Fat Lady and slips back through the crack in the door.

SIX: Severus Snape (Headmaster’s Office) & Hermione Granger [Sixth Year - Ophelia (The Lumineers), O Children (Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds)]

Hermione is visiting Dumbledore’s office for her Prefect badge and an overview of the position while Ron and Harry are brooding in their room. The three of them have become far closer than normal lately, and she’s almost glad to be away for a moment, as they’ve always been more honest with each other when she isn’t around. She can’t decide if that bothers her or not.

She’s waiting for Dumbledore to get there when she hears, “Miss Granger, correct?” in a slow, molasses drawl.

She looks up at the portrait labelled Severus Snape and answers the boy in the Slytherin tie, “Yes. Hello, Mr. Snape.”

Severus grins slowly, a cat-like expression of amusement and carefully calculated arrogance. “Smart one, aren’t you?” He asks, and she nods. He clicks his tongue. “Should’ve been in Ravenclaw.”

She flushes and opens her mouth to retort when the Sorting Hat starts shouting about insecure fuckwads who don’t know their place and Severus starts screaming back about it not doing its fucking job right until finally Hermione screams, “STOP!”

The hat grumbles off to sleep again while she stares a shocked Severus down, her shaking hands curled in fists as she says, “Please don’t shout at it. It’s tired.”

Severus raises an eyebrow, but huffs and turns away. She sees his blank arm as he turns his back to her and feels her heart break open with pity.

“You’re Harry’s father, right?” She asks softly, and his head whips towards her in shock. She offers a sad smile and explains, “Lily and James. There are no records, of course, but…”

“You’re Mcgonogall’s favorite,” Severus finishes, smiling wryly. “Yes. I am one of Harry’s fathers.”

Hermione nods, looking down at her books, and swallows before looking back up again to say, “He really loves you.”

Severus rears back in shock, his eyes searching her for lies as she tears up. “He really does. You may not know it, and he doesn’t speak of it, but - but I can tell. He misses you.”

Severus’ eyes turn dull and glassy and he turns away, hiding his face with his long shaggy hair. Hermione swallows down her tears, smiling again. “Yes, well -”

“I love him too,” Severus interrupts, voice soft. “I miss him too. We all do. Tell… tell him that, would you?”

Hermione blinks, then nods.

“Of course,” she says, ducking her head as the staircase starts to rumble. “I’ll take good care of him, sir.”

Severus smiles that sad wry smile again and stills just as Dumbledore steps through the door, but Hermione hears his silence echo in her ears.

Thank you.

SEVEN: Remus Lupin (Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom) & Luna Lovegood [Seventh Year - Dynasty (MIIA), Towards The Sun (Rihanna)]

As the war comes closer and closer to Hogwarts, the students there grow more and more anxious. Luna herself takes refuge in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where only Harry and Ginny know to find her. But with Harry on the run with Ron and Hermione and Ginny trying to hold down the fort with Seamus and Dean, Luna often finds herself alone.

One day she decides to make her way up onto the balcony over the classroom that leads to the office, and she reaches for the knob on the office door when she hears, “Don’t go in there, Miss Lovegood.”

She looks over at the portrait who’s spoken, dubbed Remus Lupin, and smiles. He smiles kindly back and asks, “What are you even looking for?”

Luna shrugs. “Some way to help, I guess.”

Remus smiles wryly and nods, glancing down at the wedding ring adorning his finger. His smile softens for a moment before he says, “Sometimes, Miss Lovegood, the best way to win a war is by treating others with kindness.”

Luna tilts her head to the side. “Like, with hugs and smiles?” She asks, and Remus smiles, biting his lip and nodding. His eyes are glassy, but she pretends not to notice.

“Yes, my dear, with hugs and smiles. Support each other. Take no conversation for granted. Merlin knows the only thing that comforted me in the first war was the constant reminders that I still had my family. That they were fighting with me, and that I was fighting for them.”

Luna nods sagely and looks down at the bracelets littering her wrists, each one made for a different person in her life: Ginny, her girlfriend; Harry, her partner; Neville, her best friend; Draco and Ron and Hermione, her friends. She asks, “What comforted you when you died? I know… I know it wasn’t fast. Or painless.”

Remus smiles, his eyes shining with kindness and hope despite the exhausted bruises beneath them and the scars across his face.

“I wasn’t alone,” he answers, his voice soft. “I died by Sirius’ side. I was holding his hand when I saw the light. And in the light there were silhouettes - James, Peter, Lily, Severus, Regulus. They were waiting for us. And I knew we would be okay.”

Luna nods. She twists a ring on her finger and says, “Thank you, Mr. Lupin. I’d best be going now.”

Remus nods as she begins to descend the steps, his voice ringing out one last time, “Good luck, Luna. I hope to Merlin your victory will be more permanent than ours.”

Luna twirls around, cocking her head as she asks, “You think we’ll win?” Remus smiles.

He nods, his eyes twinkling, and says, “Someone has to. Why not you?”

ONE: All Together Again (Grimmauld Place, Harry & Ron & Hermione’s Bedroom)  & Harry Potter [After Graduation of Eighth Year - Daylight (Taylor Swift)]

Following the end of the war, Harry moves into Grimmauld Place, left to him by the godfather he never knew. He takes Hermione and Ron with him, the three of them having been in a committed relationship since sometime when they were on the run and following an unspoken agreement that they will follow each other anywhere.

Luna lives nearby with Ginny, in an apartment by Draco’s little cottage and Neville’s tiny hovel. The three of them live quietly, though their friends visit often. Harry feels better, happier, though the hole left by his missing family is still there.

One day, as he’s putting up pictures of him and his partners around their shared bedroom, he hears, “Harry?”

He looks up, and there, on the opposite wall, is a picture of the seven Marauders, all young and staring at him in shock. Harry tears up and rushes over, taking the picture delicately in his hands and smiling as he rakes his eyes over his lost family. They all grin back, and Harry reads the inscription on the frame: My dear Marauders, You have been my pride and joy for seven long short years. I know you will all do great things; I cannot wait to see what you accomplish. You are, and have always been, my favorite students. All my love, Minnie.

Harry covers his mouth, emotional, until finally James asks, “Are you happy?”

Harry looks at Remus and Sirius, their fingers intertwined and their eyes sparkling. He looks at Regulus and Peter, their arms around each other’s shoulders as they grin. He looks at Severus and Lily and James, his three wonderful parents. And he looks down at the two wedding rings on the chain around his own neck, bearing the initials R.W. and H.G.. And he nods.

“Yeah,” he answers, grinning. “Yeah, I’m really fucking happy.”

[sprnklersplashes]

jdronica+I kissed you in front of my ex (also on ao3)

The 7-Eleven is hardly much warmer than it is outside, but at least it’s drier. Veronica shakes the rain out of her hair as she steps in, shaking her head like a dog and sprinkling tiny droplets over the tiles. September announced its arrival in Sherwood with grey skies and bucket loads of rain, and three days in, the downpour shows no sign of stopping. It put a little bit of a damper to show up on the first day of her senior year soaking wet (pun intended because puns should always be intended), and there’s a growing sense of anxiety among students about whether or not the rain will let up in time for football practice to start.

But, where the rain might mess with first-day plans and be a pain for football fanatics, it’s the ideal weather for movie nights. The kind that involves piles of blankets, hot cocoa, and a combination of new releases and old favourites. The kind that, funnily enough, Veronica and Martha had planned for the weekend and scheduled when the sun was still out.

Maybe the weather was on their side.

“Okay, you grab the JiffyPop and drinks; I’ll raid the candy aisle,” Veronica instructs. “I’ll meet you at the counter.”

“Don’t go crazy on the candy,” Martha warns her. “Orange soda or blue?”

“Orange, and I will go completely crazy on the candy.” Martha raises her eyebrow, a fond shake of her head, but there’s little she can do when there’s a five-dollar bill burning in Veronica’s pocket. Veronica shoots little finger guns at Martha before bouncing down the candy aisle, taking stock of all the treats on offer.

She grabs a packet of Milk Duds because they go great with popcorn and a sharing bag of red vines too. She grabs a packet of the little watermelons (Martha’s personal favourite) and chuckles as she picks up a sharing bar of Hershey’s (private joke). She drops her candy stash into her basket and is in the middle of a debate between the packets of Sour Patch Kids and the packets of chips on sale when something, or rather someone, appears behind her.

“Want a Slurpee with that?”

She only jumps a tiny bit, and she’s glad because it doesn’t show how the stranger scared the pants off her. Mostly because she was lost in her head, but still, what was the asshole expecting, coming behind her like that? She turns around, her basket still on her arm, and she has an entire rant about convenience store etiquette ready, but it dies when she sees who it is.

Jason Dean, or as he prefers to be known, JD. New kids are something of a rarity in Sherwood, Ohio, which means he’s front-page news at school. Branded The New Kid, and he’ll probably still be that at graduation. People have done their best to Make Him Feel Welcome, as Ms. Fleming brightly suggested (demanded) they do, and despite some pleasantries, no one’s quite managed to get him to their lunch table. Most of the time, he’s alone, always with a different book. He’s gone from Baudelaire to Dickens to Orwell.

Not that she’s paying attention.

“Well, hello, Jason Dean.” She leans up against the counter and gestures to the cup in his hand. “Not my thing, but if you play your cards right, you can buy me a Big Gulp.”

“Blasphemy, little miss. Slurpee is the signature dish of the house. Did you say cherry or lime?”

“I said Big Gulp.” She lets the smile linger on her lips, feels it grow wider as he turns around. He laughs it off, and she takes note of the dimples in his cheeks, the way his hair falls forward into his eyes in a way that may or may not make her heart pick up.

“You’re Veronica, right?” he asks. “Veronica Sawyer.” He holds his free hand up. “Not stalking. I just sit two rows behind you in English.”

“I remember,” she replies. “Yes, it’s Veronica Sawyer.” She crosses her arms over her chest and chews thoughtfully on her lower lip. “So… may I ask what brings you to Sherwood, Ohio?”

His smile falters then, the spark dimming in his eyes, and his free hand slides into his pocket. She kicks herself immediately, her with her stupid attempts at flirting and her stupid nose poking into other people’s business. This is why she only sticks to Martha and occasionally Heather Mac, and if the universe wanted to remind her, it could have done it less painfully.

“Uh, new foster placement,” he tells her after a minute. “My old group home got too crowded, and it turns out the only other place that would take a teenager with insane daddy issues was all the way across the state.”

“Oh,” is all she can find to say, for all her teachers praising her for her brains. One word, one syllable. “Well, that’s….” Cool? Nice? Fun? Interesting? Nothing is appropriate here, no matter what direction she turns in.

But then Jason Dean taps her arm, wearing a smile that’s equal parts charming and apologetic, and the smoke in her brain begins to clear.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve been a bit more tactful there,” he says. “I know it’s a bit of a wild thing to drop on someone. My tragic hero backstory and all that.”

“Well, if it means you end up leading a life of crime-fighting and protecting our town, it all works out.”

“Maybe. Not sure if I can pull off the tights and leotard.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got the legs for it,” she replies, and when he bursts out laughing, so does she. It feels weird, almost familiar. Like she’s known him for far longer than three days. She shuffles closer to him, pulled forward by her curiosity.

He eyes her basket and opens his mouth to say something else, but then the little bell rings at the shop door, and Veronica lets out a soft curse when she sees who it is.

What exactly her ex-girlfriend is doing at the 7-Eleven, she can’t fathom. This was on her list of places she could most definitely keep going to regularly after they broke up, and that list is depressingly small. This is meant to be the part of town Heather Duke, or any of the Heathers don’t grace with their presence, not even Macnamara. If they divided up the assets after breaking up last month, the 7-Eleven was definitely in her pile.

Or maybe not, she thinks as she watches Heather cross the floor in her heels, loose change in her hand.

The universe just will not let her be.

Duke notices her after she does, dark eyes widening at the sight of her. Veronica’s at a loss for what to do, whether to wave at her, flip her off, or just ignore her completely. She needs to think of something soon because Heather is moving closer towards her, and the last thing she needs is a not-so-subtle reminder of how she’s doing so much better than she is.

Her brain turns off, her body going into autopilot.

Instinct says to grab the closest thing to her, and the closest thing happens to be JD.

She whispers, “I’m sorry,” just loud enough so he can hear a second before her lips touch his, and by that point, she can’t exactly back out.

She doesn’t know what’s crazier; her kissing JD or the fact he kisses her back.

His hand is flat against her back, his other one cupping her cheek. She doesn’t know how experienced he is in these matters, but damn, he’s not bad. She’d even call him good. Maybe great. He tilts his head slightly but still lets her keep control, and his lips are soft and slightly cold from the Slurpee. It’s just slow enough to make it interesting, and he doesn’t pull away when she kisses him again.

When she does pull away, Heather is far past them, her pace too quick to be calm, and Veronica smugly counts it as a victory.

That is until she realises her hands are still balled up in JD’s shirt.

“I am… so sorry,” she begins. “I just… I know I shouldn’t have, but I just needed to do something to-”

“Woah, woah, woah, Ronnie,” he says. She only blushes slightly at the nickname. “Just answer me one question.” She nods, words catching in her throat, and he points up to where Heather is. “Ex?”

“Yup,” is her meek response, and to her shock, he laughs.

“Okay, Veronica Sawyer,” he tells her. “No hard feelings.” She untangles herself from him and retrieves her basket from where she dropped it on the floor. She looks behind and finds his Slurpee sitting on the shelf, standing out amongst the candies.

She’s tempted by the Slurpee offer, after all. She needs something to stop her cheeks from burning.

“I should go,” she says. “My friend, she’ll be wondering where I am.” She backs up, her eyes unable to leave his grinning face. “Um, thank you very much. For being so understanding about… that. All of that. Uh, see you around maybe. Yeah.”

She manages to turn herself around and takes the opportunity to stop hiding and let out a silent scream. She moves to go, to run and pay for her candy, and start plan to avoid him as much as humanly possible-or change her name and flee the state, that could work-but then he calls after her, and she stops in her tracks,

“Hey!” he says. She turns to face him again, and while he keeps a respectable distance, she can still see the smile on his face, all soft angles and laugh lines, and the telltale butterflies begin in her stomach.

“You’re busy this weekend,” he says. “What about next?”

That’s the story of Veronica Sawyer and Jason Dean’s first kiss.

For those who want to know, their second involves her pinning up against the wall of a McDonald’s bathroom and him breathlessly whispering her name against her lips.