#so even though it's christmas themed i use it all year round now

[corrodedbisexual]

Tell me about your favorite mug(s) and why it's your fave in the tags. Or post a photo if you like

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 3

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: Fluff and banter

WC: 2000+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist

“Seresin!” you scream at the top of your lungs, slamming the front door with enough force to knock down the welcome sign hanging in the hall. You groan as all the keys that were hanging off its hooks clatter to the floor, together with the sign. But this incident only makes you more enraged. You stomp down the corridor with your shoes still on, bellowing, “Your bucket of bolts is blocking me in, and I need to leave right now!”

You storm into the living room just as Jake starts stretching on the couch; you see one of his arms extend upward over the upholstery.

“Seresin!” you continue to yell, rounding the corner to get a better look at him. “If you don’t move your clunker, I will kill you I swear to” – but you stop short when you witness the scene before you.

Jake Seresin slowly sits up on your couch, shirtless – most likely butt-naked but his bottom half is obscured by the Frozen-themed fleece blanket your brother got you last year for Christmas – and beside him, a sleeping woman is starting to stir. Jake blinks up at you groggily. “You told me to go on a date,” he croaks when he registers the shock on your face.

You narrow your eyes at him irritably. “I said go, not come and date in my living room!”

“I did go,” he says, starting to rise from the couch. “But then I came back.” Halfway into a standing position, Jake seems to realize that, if he continues rising, his friend will end up in the nude, so he sits back down and glances at you sheepishly. “Do you mind passing me that pillow?” he asks, pointing to the tasselled throw pillow on the second couch.

You grimace. “Please don’t tell me you had sex under my blanket,” you say with disgust as you reach for a pillow and then fling it right at Jake’s face.

Jake catches it swiftly, demonstrating impressive reflexes for someone who’s been awake for less than two minutes. “We didn’t,” he says, leaving the blanket over the woman while using the pillow to cover himself as he collects his clothes from the floor.

“Then why are you naked?” you hiss.

Jake straightens his back and gives you a rueful look. “We didn’t have sex under your blanket,” he clarifies. “We just used it after, because we were cold.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “I don’t care!” you snap, even though you absolutely do care and seeing Jake with a random naked chick feels like someone’s taken a sledgehammer to your gut. “Just get dressed and move your damn car, I have to be in class in less than ten minutes!” You glance down at your watch and let out an anxious whine.

Within seconds, Jake has his jeans on and is pulling a t-shirt over his magnificent six-pack. You try your best not to stare and instead find yourself studying the woman who has miraculously been able to sleep through your entire conversation. “Let’s go,” Jake says, walking past you toward the front door.

You release a heavy sigh and start after him. In the foyer, Jake eyes the fallen welcome sign with all the keys still strewn on the floor and then lifts his gaze to look at you pointedly. You make a face at him, and he gives you a small smile before bending down to pick up his car keys.

“It’s a fifteen-minute drive,” he states, slipping on his shoes.

You give him an aggravated look. “You think I don’t know that?”

He opens the door for you, but you shove him through it instead and then jog down to the driveway. When you look back, you see that Jake is still on the porch, his back turned to you as he fiddles with the doorknob.

“Seresin, are you kidding me?” you shout. “If you don’t move this trash heap in the next minute, I will drive through it!”

Jake whistles patronizingly as he skips down the steps toward you. “Simmer down, cupcake,” he says. “I was locking the door.”

You seethe at the nickname as he approaches you with a wide grin. “I will slap you,” you warn.

Jake chuckles, sticking his key into the passenger door to unlock it. “What if I like it?”

You smack him on the shoulder as he opens the door for you. “What are you doing?” you shriek, looking at his dilapidated vehicle in disgust. “Can you please just move this rust bucket so that I can get to class and hand in my paper?”

“Get in!” Jake urges, pressing a hand into your shoulder to force you into the seat. “I’m driving you.”

“I don’t need you to drive me!” you retort, rising back to your feet. “I just need you to get this piece of junk off my driveway” –

“I’m not letting you drive like this,” he says resolutely.

“Like what?” you ask in outrage.

Jake lifts his hands to indicate at your current state and gives you a look. “You’re very stressed out,” he remarks.

You glare at him in disbelief. “Because you are stressing me out!” you scream.

“Be that as it may,” he says calmly, “it’s a fifteen-minute drive, sweet cheeks.” He meets your gaze defiantly and pushes you back down into the seat. “And you need to be there in five.”

You blink up at him crossly but stay put this time.

“Now, you can’t get there in five minutes,” he continues, yanking on the seat belt behind your head and putting into your hand. “But I can.” And, with these words, he slams your door and heads around the front of the car. When he gets in and turns over the engine, he glances at you with a grin. “So, out of curiosity,” he says, “how many nicknames do you have for my car?”

You give him a steely look as he backs out of the driveway. “How many nicknames do you have for me?”

Jake chuckles, releasing the clutch and shifting into second gear, but he doesn’t respond.

You watch him navigate expertly through traffic to get you to your destination, deciding not to press him on the bizarre moment the two of you shared yesterday evening before he finally left you alone. The one that ended with him telling you that he wishes he were your idiot with absolutely no elaboration. Of course, seeing him this morning with a brand-new companion has made you feel like the ultimate idiot in this scenario.

Jake pulls right up to one of the side doors of the building and you unbuckle your seatbelt with lightning speed. “Thanks, Seresin,” you say, climbing out of the car.

“Anytime, peach,” he says, leaning forward to wink up at you before you shut your door.

You roll your eyes. “I’m telling Bradley you had sex on our couch,” you say and then slam the door in his face.

You can see him throw his arms up in protest and reach over to roll down the passenger side window. “Who do you think told me to stay over after insisting I do shots with him?” he yells after you.

You shake your head as you lean into the revolving door of the building. “I’m unimpressed,” you call back.

Jake grins. “So, pretty normal, then?”

…

Your class ends in two hours and you realize that, since you didn’t drive, you’d have to take the bus home. Except, when you walk out of the lecture hall, you see Jake sitting on the ground, his back leaning against a pillar, waiting for you.

“What are you still doing here?” you ask, approaching him cautiously.

Jake rises to his feet and holds his hand out for your bookbag. When you don’t readily give it to him, he slides it off your shoulder and pulls it over his. “You need a ride home, don’t you?”

You stare at him in disbelief. “I could’ve taken the bus, Jake. You didn’t have to come all the way back.”

“I didn’t,” he says. “I never left.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “You’ve been sitting here for two hours?”

Jake shrugs. “Took a walk around campus.”

“What about your friend whom you left naked in my house?”

Jake’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit,” he says.

Your jaw drops as you continue to gape at him. “Are you serious?”

Jake cringes. “I’m an idiot.”

“Oh my god, Seresin,” you say, rubbing your forehead in shock. “I have no words.”

Jake nods, then shrugs again. “Maybe she left,” he says hopefully.

You look up at him as the two of you start walking. “It was a memorable night, then,” you comment sarcastically.

Jake chuckles. “Uh, kind of,” he says. “Not that part, though.”

You glance at him questioningly. “Why, what else happened?”

Jake eyes you hesitantly then promptly looks away. “Never mind.”

You stop walking and Jake, who takes another couple of steps before doubling back, blinks at you expectantly. Your eyes meet as the two of stand in the middle of the busy hallway and you feel your heartbeat quicken. You’re wondering, of course, if he’s referring to the incident that you’ve since decided to dismiss as a slip of the tongue.

Jake sighs impatiently. “We should get back,” he says, his eyes still sweeping over your face.

You swallow uncomfortably and give him a tight smile; clearly he isn’t planning on sharing the part of the evening that was memorable for him. You start to walk again, but Jake takes you by the wrist before you reach the door. You glance back at him as he pulls you toward himself. He isn’t looking at you, however. He nods at something behind you, and you turn to see an AV equipment cart barrelling your way, the person pushing the cart effectively hidden behind a stack of projectors. Jake curls his arm around your stomach, pinning your back to his chest as the cart zooms by.

Meanwhile, your knees nearly give out from the heat of his touch. You look down at the arm still wrapped tightly around your abdomen, holding your breath lest you start hyperventilating. “You alright there, darlin’?” he asks casually as his hand slips away from your waist.

“That was a close call,” you manage to say, turning to face him dazedly.

“Good thing I was here,” he says with a smirk.

You give him a stern look, his smugness having brought you out of your temporary trance. “If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t be distracted.”

Jake grins cheekily. “Am I distracting you again?”

You roll your eyes, recognizing that he’s referencing yesterday’s conversation. “You’re insufferable,” you say.

Jake raises his eyebrows. “I might actually prefer it when you insult me rather than my car,” he says as the two of you make your way outside.

“Don’t you worry,” you respond. “I have plenty of insults for the both of you.”

Jake puts his arm around your shoulders when you shiver slightly in your tank top. You try to keep your cool as you walk together toward the parking lot, sinking slightly into his side when the wind picks up as you’re crossing the field. Jake runs his hand up and down your arm to warm you and, in response, a tornado of butterflies, materializing out of nowhere, suddenly swells so violently inside of you that it feels like their collective flying power might lift you right off the ground as you walk.

It’s nice when Jake takes care of you, even though you know he’s only doing it because you’re his best friend’s little sister and he feels some sort of weird obligation to protect you. You wonder if perhaps that’s why you’ve always liked him – because he’s always been there for you, despite being supremely annoying most of the time. His broad shoulders don’t hurt either.

When you reach the car, Jake pulls open your door for you and motions for you to get inside.

“I can get my own door, you know?” you tell him, even though you kind of like it when he does it for you.

Jake gives you an offended look. “Never in my life have I not opened a door for a lady,” he says.

You climb into the vehicle, wondering if you should be pleased to be grouped together with all the ladies in Jake’s life, or discouraged that he’s such a ladies’ man. “Ever the gentleman,” you comment. “Don’t forget the part where you sleep with them and then desert them for hours to fend for themselves at a stranger’s house.”

Jake leans down to peer at you as you buckle your seatbelt. He puts a hand over his chest and frowns playfully. “That hurt,” he says.

You smile at him cheerily. “Suck it up, buttercup.”

Jake grins. “Buttercup,” he says, straightening his back and tapping the hood of the car a couple of times. “I like it.” Then, he shuts your door.

Read Part 4

A/N: Thanks for reading, you guys! These two are so fun to write about, let me know if you want more of them :D Also, if you have prompts for these two in particular, send them my way!

Tag List:

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[iluvchick3nz]

idk if you only write the cubs but I love your writing so much and would love to read some rookie Sirius and Dumo hurt comfort OR some Sirius and Hope Lupin hurt comfort. I feel like all the family time around holidays would be tough for him at first but then he find out he’s so loved ya know😩 thanks babes keep up the great content!!!

This is the SECOND ask for hurt/comfort Sirius and Hope Lupin. I wasn't planning on writing Coops or Sirius/Remus as main characters, but I am a SUCKER for a found family story. It warms my heart. PLUS, this one features the Black Brothers!

Thank you for the kind words, friend! Keep the prompts coming!

All credits to @lumosinlove !!

“Sirius, Regulus, could you come here for a second?”

Sirius looked up from where he was sat in the Lupin’s living room, on the couch with a cup of coffee and a photo album Hope had handed him. Remus, Julian, and Lyall had gone to get the family Christmas tree- something Julian had been very excited about- leaving himself and Regulus alone in the house with Remus’ mom. She was standing in the arched walkway that lead to the kitchen, and was glancing expectantly at the both of him. Regulus bookmarked his page and gingery set the novel down.

“Yeah, Mrs. Lupin?” he asked.

She waved her hand at him. “I told you to stop calling me that, honey. Hope is fine.” She jerked her head. “This way, come on. I need to watch my cakes, so may you please both come to the kitchen?”

It was still weird for the both of them, Sirius thought, to be asked to do things instead of told to do them. Sometimes there was that element, in the way Hope had firmly told Remus and Julian to shovel the snow that morning, but always with a layer of humor and love behind it. They always had a choice in everything, and Hope would never make them do things they never truly were comfortable doing. Remus and Julian were definitely capable, and even liked, shoveling snow- they’d just been a bit lazy and had protested doing it. But Hope had just raised her eyebrows at them, and sure enough, forty-five minutes later they had returned jostling one another, Julian stuffing a massive snowball down Remus’ back. Sirius had watched Regulus’ eyes follow them and was sure the same look was plastered on his own face; laughter had never really been all that common in their household.

They both stood and followed Hope into the kitchen, where she was monitoring what looked like some ginger cakes for the town Christmas dinner food drive she was donating to later that evening. She peeked into the oven, nodded in satisfaction, and then turned to them with a smile on her face. “Now,” she said. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Quoi?” Sirius asked. He and Regulus wore matching confused expressions. “You do?”

“Mmhm,” she said, as though it was obvious. She pointed to two boxes on the counter. Their names were written on little tags in cursive on the top. “Those are for you, dears.”

“Oh,” Regulus said. He looked a little out of place. “Thank you.”

“Go on, open them, I’m excited.”

Tentatively, they both reached for their respective boxes and lifted the lids. Inside each of them was a round wooden ornament with a red ribbon running through the top. And engraved in the otherwise flat surface was-

“The Leo constellation?”

“Canis Major?”

Regulus and Sirius both looked at each other simultaneously, realization dawning, and then at Hope.

“Oh,” Sirius said. “That’s us.”

“You’re right, sweetheart,” Hope answered gently. She leaned onto the counter on her forearms. “Every year, Re and Jules get a new ornament to decorate the Christmas tree with, and there’s a theme every year. I got you each one of those kind this year, too, but I figured you needed some to start with. Re and Jules each got ones carved with their birth flower when they were born, and I thought- well, I thought that your constellations would fit you. The brightest star in the sky, and the heart of the Lion, yes?”

“Yeah,” Regulus said. His voice was soft and his face red, but he looked Hope right in the eye. “Thank you. Thank you.” 

And in a fashion very unlike himself, he walked around the counter and straight into Hope’s arms. 

“Oh,” Hope laughed, surprised, but she squeezed him tightly back. “Oh, you’re welcome, honey. You’re so welcome.” 

Sirius watched his brother, his not-so-baby brother, fold himself, perhaps for the first time, in a loving mother’s embrace, and he wanted to cry. He wanted to hug Regulus, to hug Hope, to hug Lyall and Julian and Remus. He wanted to be a part of this family forever, wanted to take Reg with him. When Hope and Regulus parted, he didn’t know what he must have looked like, but when Hope came around the counter all he could do was fall into her arms. He was much taller and weighed more, but she somehow made him feel tiny and precious in her embrace. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, this means so much. You have no idea.”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, frank as always. “But I hope you never will have to have any idea ever again.”

Sirius squeezed her tight and caught his brother’s eye over her shoulder. Regulus nodded, a small, tiny thing, and he knew: this was what a forever home felt like. 

[therealprismcat]

PLEASE DO IT

the people have decided, here's a fanfic rec list of dsaf fanfics that arent focussed on davesport! (in no particular order)

Centipedes by Raccoonsandpossumswritesometimes [incomplete]

Dee centric fic which is a swap between Dee and Jack. Not only is davesport not the main focus, it's also pretty toxic. TWs at the beginning of each chapter, but heed the tags.

Hello, You. by galaticanthem [incomplete]

Another similar premise to Centipedes. If you think davesport is toxic in centipedes though, here it is arguably worse. Plot is a bit confusing as of chapter 7, but as it stands, here are the trigger warnings that I can remember off of the top of my head (but basically, if you're sensitive to disturbing themes, i'd skip this one):

Murder

Abuse

Kidnapping (by the looks of it but ????)

Underage drinking

Neglect

Body horror (I think??? it's so early into the fic im unsure of half these warnings but as it is rn i think it is important they're there because thats what it looks like at least)

Dave is very objectively NOT a good person in this fic. Like, at all. I don't think any future chapter could change that. If you're a person who cannot read about their favourite character committing absolutely heinous things theres nothing wrong with that and I wouldn't read this. If you can stomach all that though, it's a good story.

Dave and Old Sport Adopt a Kid by Wario_Speedwagon [incomplete]

Davesport is there and it's prevalent and not toxic, but it's not the main focus. It's more of an accidental baby acquisition fic. I can't think of any trigger warnings for this one, but check the tags. always.

Matted Fur by Afval [one-shot]

Evil ending fic with rabbit symbolism for Dave. All TWs are in the tags.

Sharp-Toothed Rabbit by orphan_account [one-shot]

More evil end Dave ft. animal metaphors! what more could you want? All TWs in the tags.

happiest day by grimkid [one-shot]

A fic about Jack's happiest day. Jack x Steven, no TWs iirc but heed the tags.

Octane Rating by dontrollthedice [one-shot]

Canon compliant fic about the good ending, only its harrysport. i dont even like the ship but this fic makes me so unwell /pos. No TWs I think but look at the tags.

NO MIDDLE-CALLING by XYZ_Countoriss [one-shot]

Silly chatfic, what can go wrong? -oh that right. No TWs needed, but look at the tags.

Operation Get Your Brother to Remember You After Years of Thinking He is Dead by Sockth [incomplete]

A fic focussed on Peter and Jack, I think the title is self explanatory. No TWs but look at tags.

Safety Infiltration by themostneontwig [incomplete]

After Jack betrays Dee in the evil route, Dave decides he needs to be stopped. A fic based around the idea of Legacy Jack founding the pizzaplex. No TWs that instantly come to mind other than the fact that it's set almost immediately after Jack kills Dee. Look at the tags though.

Hot Chocolate by Wario_Speedwagon [one-shot]

Ouch, set right after Jack dies the first time round. This fic physically hurt me and I mean that in the best way possible. TWs in tags.

After the Storm by themostneontwig [one-shot]

Christmas fic focussed on Peter and Jack. Read this one after Hot Chocolate, it can save you. No TWs unless you're Ebenezer Scrooge in which case dni

Jack's Squad Has UNO Night by Wario_Speedwagon [one-shot]

The title's a lie they play cluedo /j just some wholesome fun. No TWs.

An Unexpected Connection by End_Transmission [one-shot]

Post good end, but Jack 'lives'. We all know Dave had at least ONE kid. No TWs.

Peter Kennedy and the Worst Place on Earth by biptari [incomplete]

AU where Jack and Peter swap places. Steven x Peter. As for TWs I can't say everything off of the top of my head but I KNOW Henry is homophobic and transphobic in this. I can't remember if he says slurs 100% but I'm pretty sure he does use at least one so like, watch out. Other than that, heed the tags.

That's all I have right now. If you know some more then feel free to reblog to add them. No hate to davesport or anything but if you write dsaf fanfics that aren't focussed on davesport then you are my lifeline /hj

[quill-pen]

A Father's Regret

Based on one of the many, many, many impromptu RPs/character convos @rom-e-o and I get wrapped up in.😅 Honey, I've RPed more in half a year with you than I have my entire life of fandom. I suppose there's no stopping now.

Warnings: Depression mostly, I guess; nudity and implied sex, but nothing at all graphic. Um... hauntings maybe?

Summary: Marley returns to the Scrooge household to deliver a very important message.

Theme:

Jacob Marley was a damned soul, doomed to wander the ends of the earth for all eternity; no rest, no peace. A soul riddled with regret for things he hadn't done, things he had done, and things he was now unable to do as he traversed the world and witnessed its many horrors and hardships.

Not among the least of these regrets were the ones he had in terms of his attempts at being a husband and a father--i.e. attempts he hadn't made. And for his folly, the pain and suffering in the world had only grown and claimed yet another innocent victim; that victim being his own daughter. If he possessed any right to call her that or think of her in such way; he'd abandoned her after all.

Perhaps that was why the ghost had decided to return to London, yet again, on this stormy, August night; making his way through the gloomy, rainy streets of the old city to the familiar, three-story, brick house on Craven Street, his chains and safes rattling and clanking behind him.

Scrooge Manor, as it was called now, was a thriving and bustling home compared to what it had been the first time Marley had ever seen it and the first time he'd visited old Scrooge on that fateful Christmas Eve just a few years ago. The roof was repaired and leakless, perfect for this dreary, stormy night; the windows were all replaced and unboarded with new, freshly painted shutters; the chimneys, one now spewing out a lazy curl of gray smoke, had been torn down and built back up with new brickwork; old crumbling places of the walls of the house had been rebricked as well. And the front flowerbeds, though looking dull at the current moment, were chocked full of a variety of flowers and growing shrubbery. The building actually looked like a place someone might actually want to live in from the outside.

When Marley glided ethereally through the front door, leaving an icy impression of his visage around the doorknocker as he did so, he found the inside to be even more homey than the outside. Floorboards had been replaced and were polished to a sheen; new wallpaper had been put up; the railings and staircases had been repaired and polished; the chandelier above looked cared for and regularly used--extinguished but slightly melted candles adorned it now; a large, plush, round, timelessly stylish carpet graced the floor Marley hovered above. Not only did the house look like a place someone might want to live in--it looked like a place somebody did live in. Or rather somebodies.

Jacob slowly floated up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall. His chains softly clinking, the ghost slowly swept down the hall, gazing about him at countless more changes and repairs that had been made since he was last there, everything bearing a soft and lovely feminine touch. The biggest change of all was that a number of the rooms were now occupied. As he poked his head through a wall or door in investigation of the snoring he heard on the other sides of them, Marley found children in each room, boys and girls of varying ages. They were all soundly asleep, snuggled into big, warm beds under cozy quilts, most of them smiling happily as if right in the middle of wonderful dreams. The littlest girl cuddled a soft, stuffed toy as she slumbered. All of their faces were scrubbed clean, the girls' hair braided neatly back for the night, their sheets looked tidy, their pillows fluffy: They all appeared well looked after and tenderly cared for. Even in his dismal state of existence, it was enough to bring a little smile to the specter's ghoulish face. When he found good, old Prudence deeply asleep at the end of the youngest boy's bed, his smile broadened. The sheer amount of love and affection in this house was palpable, tingling through Marley's phantom body and warming it ever so slightly.

The spook moved on down the hall, past pictures new and old to the next set of stairs. He came out on the top floor. He paused for a moment, gazing at the large, mahogany door in front of him, listening intently both for sounds and to the energy in the air. There was just a hint of electricity lingering in the air that had nothing to do with the storm outside. But overwhelmingly the energy was steady, smooth, warm, mellow, happy, and deeply ensconced in sensations of love and devotion. Ah, that meant to proceed with caution. Marley slipped silently through the door and, for the first time, found himself in the master bedroom of the home, the master and mistress of the manor asleep in their large, impressive, rosewood, four-poster canopy just feet away.

The pair laid tangled together, Bess almost directly beneath Ebenezer as his large, lanky frame curled over and around her smaller, stouter one. Her bare back was flush against his furred chest as the man's long right arm curled about her waist and held her close, Bess's own curling up against her belly to hold his hand on her ribcage. The woman's freckled face was burrowed against the feather pillows, while her man's face was nuzzled into the crevice of her neck, his long silvery locks mingling with the sea of her coal black waves. Their left hands were woven together at the fingers among the tangle of sheets and blankets, their matching wedding rings and Bess' moonstone ring glinting in the strobing flashes of lightning that managed to come through the breaks in the curtains. While the storm raged outside, the couple slept, completely undisturbed and as peacefully as their wards downstairs. Small little smiles creased their faces as well.

Marley couldn't help but notice how perfectly the pair fit together, as if they'd be crafted precisely for each other. Nor did it escape his attention how happy they looked. Terribly, terribly happy.

Though they were quite covered by the swirls of their sheets and each other, it was obvious the happy couple was in the nude, and Marley suddenly felt quite awkward. It seemed seeing one's daughter naked in bed with a man was just as awkward for an absentee father as any other. In all rights, he probably should have left, but he couldn't quite manage to pull himself away from the scene. It was... beautiful; his daughter and the man he'd considered to be a son and a friend, wrapped up together in pure, sweet bliss having finally found much-needed happiness and love in each other's arms. After his actions had helped to sow bitterness and pain in their lives, of course. Particularly Bess'.

The guilt and woe that beleaguered Marley every moment of his forsaken afterlife swelled up in the ghost and made him want to wail out his shame and sorrow, but he held it in. Such a peaceful, happy, and love-filled space as this was no place for such despairing cries, even if that was how he felt. This room, in this moment, deserved to be treated with as much reverence as a cathedral.

What had he done? Much more than damn himself to this misery for all eternity, what had he done to his own child? His selfishness and ignorance had spawned bitter hatred and hardship for the girl her entire life. Of course, much of that blame could also be shared with her mother--not even Marley was woeful and blind enough in his guilt to believe the blame lied solely upon his shackled shoulders; but there was no denying his actions had set the ball rolling down the path.

If only he'd snapped to his senses and realized what a blessing he'd had in Beatrice--a beautiful, young wife who had, beyond all accounts, honestly loved him and wanted to make him happy--and what a blessing he'd had in his daughter--now a clever, lovely, compassionate, strong woman who seemed quite capable of taking the very world by storm--things would have been so very different for all of them. He might never have been in these blasted shackles; Bess would never have grown up to be so scarred, both mentally and physically, and bearing pain no person should ever have had to bear; and Beatrice... she would never have taken that razor to her wrists or been doomed to her long-desired legacy of being a good mother being forever tarnished by her own daughter.

Yes, things would have been very different. Better. But even in his guilt, something told Jacob that a better ending would not have been the best ending for his daughter. And she deserved the best. Looking at her curled up so snuggly and happily in the embrace of her beloved, Jacob was sure this was the best for Bess.

Consequently, it was the best for Ebenezer, too, and he deserved it just as much after working hard to turn around years of ruin and earn his redemption. A redemption he perhaps might never have needed if it weren't for Marley, as well. Yes, many of Ebenezer's past hardships were all of his own doing, but, again, there was little argument Jacob had given that ball a significant push as well.

The chains around the spectre tugged, warning him it was drawing time to be moving on. There was no denying the chains; they commanded all. So, with the urging of the shackles, Marley did what he'd come here to do. It would not lessen his burden or change much of anything, but it was something that needed done regardless.

Moving down, closer to the bed so that he was just hovering above the sleeping couple, the ghost reached out his bony, clammy hand and stroked it ever so gently over the woman's dark crown. A few, faint ice crystals formed on the coal-black strands of her hair, creating a hauntingly beautiful effect: A tiara for the daughter of a ghoul. Then Jacob brought his hand down to just barely caress the backs of his fingers against Bess' cheek. If phantoms had been capable of shedding tears, Marley would have shed them as the regret welled up ever more greatly inside him.

"I'm so sorry," he declared in a ghostly whisper. "I am so sorry, Bess, my most blessed child. I know an apology from beyond the grave from a fool you never knew and have no reason to hold any regard for will mean little to you, but I am most heartily and humbly sorry for the heartache I've helped bring upon you, my girl. If it is any consolation at all, know that abandoning you and your mother is my greatest regret. There is nothing but regret in me--regret and sorrow and shame."

He bowed his head closer to kiss the woman's temple, leaving more frost on her hair. "But also know," he rasped right into her ear, "that, in the brief moments between regret, sorrow, and shame, is nothing but the most brilliant pride for you, my daughter. Pride for the woman you've become; pride for how you haven't allowed the world to corrupt you as it has so many others; pride for the strides you have taken and those I know you will take in making this harsh globe a better one. You've already made a decent start--keep going and, for the fear of rattling chains, never let the momentum stop."

He kissed her once more. "Goodbye, my Bess. I doubt you shall ever see me again, but I shall see you. And I shall be filled with greater pride each occasion I do."

With that, Jacob turned his attention to the sleeping man wrapped almost double around his daughter. "You've done well, Scrooge, old boy," he said. "Very well done indeed. I see no chains. For the sake of everything good and decent, keep that weight off."

Jacob's gaze fell back to his daughter, and he thought of all those precious little souls asleep downstairs. "Take care of them, Ebenezer," he murmured. "Take care of them and cherish them forever. Take it from a regretful old fool: You never know what you have until it's gone."

The chains jerked, pulling Jacob away from the bed and to the windows. The phantom let them take him and wailed for misery as he passed through the curtains and glass back out into the torrential night.

At a particularly loud crack of thunder, Bess stirred and cracked open her eyes with a moan. The vague impression of a ghostly voice whispered through her sleep-addled mind as she slowly rose up onto an elbow and blearily gazed around the darkened bedroom. She saw nothing. Could it have been nothing more than a dream? Perhaps mixed with the sounds of the storm? Possible. However, Bess had never experienced any such dream before.

The sensation of cold--bitter cold--finally registered in Bess' mind as it came more into the present and out of the warm darkness of slumber. She reached up and touched the side of her face where the sensation seemed to emanate. It, in fact did emanate; her cheek was frozen and numb to the touch, as if she'd been standing out in a blizzard in the dead of winter. But it was only isolated to the left half of her face--the rest of her was snug and toasty, tucked into the cocoon of her sleeping hubby.

Peculiar. It all got even more peculiar when Bess felt ice crystals in her hair as she brushed her finger through it. Frost? In August? And just on her hair in a couple different spots?

She had to be dreaming. Surely she had to be dreaming! This had to be some sort of lucid dream-state where she only thought she was awake but was actually still sound asleep. Yes, that was it--lucid dreaming.

Her sleepy brain satisfied with that explanation, and with Ebenezer sleepily tightening his grip around her to draw her back in again, Bess rolled over and lay back down. Snaking her arms about her man, she snuggled as close as possible into his broad chest and closed her eyes as she nuzzled into his chest hair. A deep sigh of contentment left her as her lungs filled with his scent. She lazily pressed kisses to the man's sternum, her mouth curving slightly into a soft smile again. By the time Ebenezer had enclosed his arms around her again, Bess was already slipping off to Dreamland to rejoin him. But even as she did, in the back of her mind was the voice she could have sworn she'd heard, whispering great regrets, but also great praises in equal measure. And, somehow, that made her feel even warmer and more content than ever before.

Taglist: @luvreadingfics @amazingassash @beascrooge @themostanonymousscribbler @b4bynikii @sparklesphobia @christmasgaybusinessmen @tenodai @girlbosseveyhammond @witchypandamonium @purgratoriat @neonshoe @orangewierdo @mirthadra @the-enchanted-rose @simp2537 @pandora-native-ayatei @youngsongnerd @skyvstheworldsince1996 @crimson-phantom-designs @cila-17 @ry-ichi1 @artist-anon08 @alittlebitbethany @crowwritesthings @hyerizz @crowbones13 @rom-e-o @softmullet @cheesethegodfather @the-house-of-auditore-frye @thephantomofzaun @littlethief78 @oldmanlusting

[bluespring864]

Hello :)

I've noticed that you've been showing a bit of an interest in Discworld lately.

So naturally, being very much into Discworld right now, I can't just ignore this. :D I don't know how interested you actually are of course, but I'd still like to try and nudge you towards starting it rather sooner than later. Obviously no pressure - I know how it is, sometimes you just don't want to get into something new, let alone a 42-volume book series. :D (Although you don't have to commit to reading all of it right away; most books can stand pretty well on their own.)

It's just that I'm quite certain – no, actually I'm even inclined to say I know – that you would love Discworld. This might come across a bit presumptuous, especially since I don't actually know you. But judging by your interests and generally what I see of you on my dash, I would be very surprised if Discworld wasn't right up your alley.

Because even leaving aside characters and storylines, the writing alone should be a major draw. I regularly marvel at the masterful way in which Terry Pratchett uses language: as a means of characterisation, to convey an idea or even just to describe someone's facial expression - and of course to make us laugh.

And the puns, oh the puns! They're probably what made me fall in love with his writing in the first place. Can't resist a good pun. I could provide examples if you want. :D

I won't get into characters, themes or what have you right now because this ask is long enough as it is. One thing I want to say, though, is that I feel like a lot of the messages conveyed in those books would resonate with you, because you strike me as a very compassionate and caring person.

So, to come to an end: If you need any more information or incentives to get into Discworld or are still on the fence about how or where to start, feel free to ask me anything. And in case you will actually start reading the books, I'd be more than happy to exchange thoughts or just gush about stuff. :D

PS: I hope you had a lovely christmas and wish you all the best for the new year*. :)

*Isn't it somewhat annoying that English doesn't have an adequate translation for "Guten Rutsch"?

This is definitely the nicest thing I've had in my inbox all year, you lovely person <3

I am still to this day confused as to why I never read any Terry when I was a teenager. I assume the local library didn't have a lot of his books or put them so far in the boy's section that I never really noticed them (and why tf were the teenage books gendered, I hope that's not the case anymore... hm, now I'm wondering whether I'm remembering this right, but I really think there were boy's and girl's sections). I picked one of his books at random a few years back and read it on holiday, jetlagged (it was a bit confusing, because of the jetlag and because I think I picked something that belonged somewhere in the Discworld universe without me ever having had a real introduction to it) but I still liked it, and have been meaning to read more Discworld ever since.

Unfortunately, when I read that book I had just started a demanding job that often requires me to speedread through hundreds of pages in a few hours, which has left me with much less capacity to read for pleasure. The books are literally piling up around me. But I will get round to Discworld one day, I'm sure of it, not least because of your glowing recommendation! And as soon as I do, I will most definitely let you know so we can be language and literature nerds about it together ;-)

[agentnico]

My Most Anticipated Movies of 2024

Here we are - Christmas behind us and right at the precipice of the end of the year with 2024 ready to rock and rumble. So naturally as per usual this time of year I do all my film-related Top 10 lists, with the first up My Most Anticipated Movies of 2024. An interesting aspect of 2024 is that it is in fact bare bones when it comes to superhero flicks with both Marvel and DC taking a little break as they reorganise that respective cinematic universes, with the only major flicks of that genre being Deadpool 3 and the Joker sequel. As such, I’m really hoping we will get some stand out releases from the indie and more niche market, so looking forward to those surprises down the line, as for now here are the movies on my radar who I see having potential at being the stand outs in 2024…

10) KUNG FU PANDA 4 - Jack Black’s Po the Dragon Warrior is back for another round of hijinks. DreamWorks animation sequels recently have been nothing short of superb, with the genuinely laugh-out-loud hilarious Croods 2 and then the fantastic Puss in Boots: The Last Wish that had no right to be THAT good! Like honestly, how the hell was Puss in Boots 2 so awesome!? From the striking and ambitious animation style, to the soundtrack and one hell of a title track with “Fearless Hero”, to the narrative itself tackling surprisingly mature themes and honest depictions of panic attacks - Puss in Boots: The Last Wish is a masterpiece! There, I said it. As such really high hopes now for DreamWorks’ other projects, with Kung Fu Panda always a reliable series, yet I must say the trailer was a tad underwhelming hence why it’s so low on the list. Still though, the previous 3 have been solid so no reason for this one not to. Let’s give this panda some love!

9) THE MINISTRY OF UNGENTLEMANLY WARFARE - Director Guy Ritchie has been on a real hot-streak lately, delivering quality after quality. 2019’s The Gentlemen is one of the coolest gangster flicks in recent memory, 2015’s The Man from U.N.C.L.E was an entertaining action espionage caper with some great humorous banter, and this year’s The Covenant was one of the more underrated surprises, delivering a tense and realistic pulse pounding war thriller that was so out of character for Ritchie, yet honestly delivered such an edge of your seat experience. Then there’s that Aladdin remake with a blue Will Smith. Look, everyone’s gotta pay the bills, but nonetheless Guy Ritchie really is hitting the mark non-stop, so really looking forward to this World War II based action spy film produced by Jerry Bruckheimer. Love the title alone. Also Henry Cavill’s in the lead and that guy’s simply cool.

8) ARGYLLE - So much so that this is the second film on the list featuring Henry Cavill in the lead. What a cast - John Cena, Sam Rockwell, Dua Lipa, Bryce Dallas Howard, Samuel L. Jackson, Sofia Boutella and Bryan Cranston. Talk about an ensemble! This comes to us from Matthew Vaughn who made those Kingsman movies, and one could argue that this looks and feels like a Kingsman movie. Wouldn’t even be surprised if at the film’s end there will be a twist connecting it to that franchise Cloverfield-style. Looks like a good time though, as long as they brush up on their special effects, as that CGI cat is Garfield-level bad!

7) BOB MARLEY: ONE LOVE - When a music biopic is done right then it is SO right! Taron Egerton rocked as Elton John in Rocketman, and Baz Luhrmann visual frenetic style paired really well with the crazy life of Presley in 2022’s Elvis. And who can of course forget the incredible tale of Dewey Cox, as he walked hard through his drug-filled Bob Dylan-stealing life where absolutely nothing bad happened to him. I’m of course kidding, but if you’ve never seen Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story then you’re missing out on of the funniest music biopic satires ever. That movie is hilarious and the Beatles scene alone is worth the price of admission. Anyway, in regards to One Love, the trailers for this Bob Marley biopic have actually been really intriguing. Kingsley Ben-Adir seems to be impersonating the famous reggae singer really well and the movie itself seems to offer a powerful depiction of Marley’s journey behind his revolutionary music. At the very least I’m going to enjoy listening to “Buffalo Soldier” on the big screen, and that’s gotta count for something.

6) FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA - One of the stand-outs of George Miller’s absolute batshit insane wasteland hit Mad Max: Fury Road was Charlize Theron’s headstrong Furiosa. Well Theron is not returning and instead Anya Taylor-Joy takes on the role as a younger version of the character. I am always hesitant with prequel stories as I always wonder what’s the point of them, however Miller’s Fury Road was visually incredible with some outstanding action sequences, and additionally the trailer for Furiosa features an unhinged Chris Hemsworth, and for those of you who’ve seen Bad Times at the El Royale you’ll know the guy can play insane really well.

5) DRIVE AWAY DOLLS - The Coen Brothers are behind some of the most thrilling crime capers in film history, yet recently they temporarily parted ways to focus on their own projects. Joel went on to direct a truly spectacular Shakespeare adaptation of Tragedy of Macbeth that gave Roman Polanski’s original a run for its money, and now Ethan Coen has got his first solo directorial outing with Drive Away Dolls. It’s a queer roadtrip buddy comedy about two friends whose spontaneous trip to Tallahassee is undermined by a gang of amateur criminals. Should be a fun time at the movies with hopefully some of the Coens’ signature wit, and the supporting cast featuring Pedro Pascal and Matt Damon simply sounds delightful.

4) MICKEY 17 - Bong Joon-Ho’s highly anticipated science fiction film starring Robert Pattinson. Not much is known about this however Joon-Ho is fresh of winning an Oscar for Best Picture for his incredible Parasite, and Pattinson has really proven in the last decade that he’s a very talented actor, and that the quicker we forget about his Twilight times the better. Look, it’s a movie that is made by a very talented group of people, so I’m really rooting for this one to be a hit.

3) DEADPOOL 3 - One of the few superhero flicks of 2024, and the only one I really care about, as, well, it’s fricking Deadpool! The first two were awesome, and we have Ryan Reynolds back in this one, this time with the highly anticipated return of Wolverine himself - Hugh Jackman. Again, there are reasons to be worried, as the MCU’s Multiverse saga has been very underwhelming and this film is posed to be at the centre of this cinematic plot line. Additionally, due to the writer’s strike earlier in 2023 Ryan Reynolds was not allowed to improvise on set, and I feel like Deadpool thrives of the ad-libbing and actors being allowed to act in the moment, so take that away and what do we have? Fingers crossed the team know what they are doing and I’m still really looking forward to it, yet Deadpool 3 has a lot to prove come it’s summer release day.

2) MAXXXINE - The final entry is Ty West’s horror trilogy X. Following the only survivor of the bloody incidents of X, Maxine continues her journey towards fame to be an actress in 1980s Los Angeles. Both X and Pearl really reinvigorated the horror genre as they both took inspiration from the old yet managed to blend in something new, as such making this third installment one of my most anticipated this year. In fact, I don’t enjoy horror films that much, so when one gets me so invested it really proves a point that it is something truly special.

1)THE LORD OF THE RINGS: WAR OF THE ROHIRRIM - Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy are my favourite set of films ever. So of course anything to do with Lord of the Rings gets my blood pumping. Amazon Prime’s recent Rings of Power show was an absolute slap to the dick, and was such a disservice to the fans, however War of the Rohirrim sounds more promising. The prequel will be an anime adaptation of Tolkien's world and will take inspiration from the look and feel of Peter Jackson's original trilogy, with Miranda Otto returning to narrate, and as you may recall Otto played Eowyn, the daughter of Theoden, in the original trilogy. The film is directed by anime industry heavyweight Kenji Kamiyama, known for his work on Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex and Blade Runner: Black Lotus, promising excitement for both Tolkien and anime fans with his impressive track record. It sounds like The War of the Rohirrim will be worth the wait at least because at Annecy Film Festival in June 2023, an exclusive first look was screened and the first reactions are very positive. And look, it is a new Lord of the Rings movie that will be playing in cinemas! I am very afraid but also very excited!

[fizzyphan]

hiiiiii

oh no, was it because it was so close to the holidays that people didn't sign up? but hey at least now u get more time to prepare for the auditions in jan! u can become adelaide over the holidays!! alsoooo what's ur favourite musical/play and have u been able to catch a live show of it?

that's amazing that u guys did a gift exchange! i love mugs they're vvvv cute i always have to be physically stopped before purchasing mugs that i don't need because i'm not a huge hot beverage person anyway. a couple years ago i was watching gogglebox with my friend and there's a sibling duo on that show who have the weirdest cutest mug collection and i'm so jealous of them.

exactly like doing one small thing and succeeding on the first go and my ego will be boosted forever hehe! i've never played mini golf or actual golf, is it fun? 👀

last year's top songs are all bangers!! i was obsessed with heartbreak girl for some time and would listen to it on repeat. i know u said rainbow kitten were ur top artist! wrapped this year was so weird for me because my top artists didn't have my top songs 💀 stick season is an amazing song even after being overplayed i'm still not sick of it. also northern attitude with hozier was one of the best things to ever happen to me!

i'm so glad u got to see them and won the ticket wars for them!! do they tour often? who's ur favourite member and what's ur favourite song by them 👀

stopppp i'm so jealous of ur sister that's literally a dream!! sadly they never toured in my country so i never got to see 1d live :(

ooh that's nice that u guys are planning to have a girls day out! are u pleased with all the gifts u have bought so far? and yes coffee while running errands is so so important <3 what's ur favourite thing about christmas?

i've had a good week so far and i love talking to u too!! 💗

- s

heyhey!! my weeks been packed sorry, but im here to respond now!!

yeah probably, we had like 11 people? i think, hopefully more people will have signed up by January! more time to practice is good though!!

my favorite show since i was 4 years old has been Newsies! unfortunately ive never seen it in person, ive only seen one full show in person and it was a production of Much Ado About Nothing at the Shakespeare festival in my home town a couple months ago! all the songs were written originally for this specific production and it was so amazing! the set was incredible especially because it was a roofless theatre!

same!! i have waaayy to many mugs lol, i recently got gifted two Halloween hello kitty mugs and a Christmas hello kitty mug by my grandma! hello kitty is my favorite so i use them very often!!!

i love mini golf! i usually play with my mom and sister! the one we go to is actually Christmas themed all year round hehe, you should play sometime! its especially fun with competitive friends!

wrapped was a little off this year for some reason its weird lol, but i agree i can listen to any noah kahan song on repeat!! especially with Hozier, i love him too!

they do tour pretty often, kpop groups tend to tour very frequently! im pretty much an ot5 but i would say my favorite is probably beomgyu! my favorite song is definitely Loser=Lover, but i love all their songs! that one does hold a special place in my heart tho!

i know right! i wouldve killed to see that if i was old enough at the time lol!

thankfully i got all my shopping done in time and im very satisfied with what i got for everyone this year! im super excited for Christmas!! what are you excited for this holiday? im super curious about other peoples traditions and favorites!

ooh thats hard! my top favorites are probably watching The Holiday on Christmas eve and eating fettuccine every year, matching Christmas pajamas, and driving to see Christmas lights through the neighborhood!!

im glad your week was good! mines been good too! kinda hectic but good!! hope you're day has been amazing!! ❣️

[punkscowardschampions]

Ruster & Nancy

Rio: [Okay, we are in mid-late Feb of 2031 now, after the Christmas where y’all did the most to ignore each other and had a VERY tense time I am sure, baby Maggie was indeed conceived and Ali has excitedly done the rounds telling the fam]

Rio: When your parents tell you, expect you to think of something cleverer than an I told you so

Buster: I didn’t tell them so, we don’t talk about you

Rio: Definitely what I meant

Rio: but I’m glad the tea time chat isn’t that dire for you all

Buster: It’s obvious what you meant

Rio: You were off anyway, didn’t happen until Christmas

Buster: Within the acceptable margin for error, or in this case Eggnog and Snowballs

Rio: Sure but that’s not romantic and Mama makes everything a story

Buster: I’m not her target audience for a bedtime one, her hands are full

Rio: Should be

Rio: Even the twins think they’re too old for it though, you know how it is, Ava must be the same

Buster: Yeah, [her age rn] going on [a big age cos Ava is that bitch]

Rio: Exactly

Rio: even when it looks like they’re still playing dress-up 

Buster: Nance does, though at what is anyone’s guess

Rio: [naming the brands we know Nancy likes] mannequin

Rio: she looks great though

Buster: She looks like everyone else here, she’s achieving her goal at least

Rio: Isn’t that something you have in common?

Buster: No, my friends wish they looked half as good as I do

Rio: Right 😏

Buster: It is, you’ve seen for yourself often enough

Rio: I can barely remember Christmas

Buster: Why would you want to?

Rio: What good is blocking it out?

Buster: A temporary reprieve still is

Rio: That’s what the 🥂 was for but not trying to make it a habit

Buster: You’ve got years to decide your unhealthy crutch of choice

Rio: Or years to work on not needing one

Buster: Either/or

Rio: You only have faith in yourself, is it

Buster: Your new daddy has all the faith, I don’t doubt he’ll keep you on the straight and narrow where your other nan never could

Rio: Shut up

Rio: I am actually too old for any parenting now and becoming a nun isn’t the 10-year plan

Buster: And any need for the costume is still months away

Rio: And Nance is liable to change her mind last minute so I know better than to get on theme too early, yeah

Buster: I could have equal say about the party planning bullshit if I wanted, bear that in mind

Rio: You think you look better than everyone all the time, you’ve no need to mastermind it

Buster: Less of an opinion more of a fact

Rio: There’s always enough guests for you to avoid me

Rio: no need to try to make me look bad

Buster: I couldn’t make you look any worse than [whatever Nancy’s worse theme has been in his opinion]

Rio: Or [the one you liked the least], that was rough

Rio: Don’t you ever want to have separate parties?

Buster: I will when she upsets me to the extent she deserves to realise how many of our friends prefer me, as of yet, she hasn’t

Rio: A sweet gesture wrapped up in an egotistical facade

Buster: Payback in the form of a guest list

Rio: The baby will be here by then

Buster: I look forward to seeing how you’ll use it as a prop

Rio: You think my new daddy is going to let it out of his sight

Buster: He doesn’t have eyes on any of his other kids

Rio: Not yet

Rio: She was never going to be thrilled when this day came but you can’t keep someone from their kids because you don’t like them

Buster: Of course you can, there’s an entire branch of law dedicated to the pursuit

Rio: Is that what you’re going to do

Buster: God no

Rio: The biggest ick

Buster: Other people’s kids and the endless discussions about them?

Rio: Subtle

Rio: it’s exciting news, there’s not been a baby for ages

Buster: There’s almost constant babies, you’re just desensitised at this point because most of them have come out of your mother

Rio: I’m not desensitised because babies are always a gift, psycho

Rio: you’re such a boy about it

Buster: Gifts are something you can return

Rio: Oh my God

Rio: how can you look at those chubby cheeks and little hands and not want to look after them?

Buster: Because I refuse to be tricked by biology, not to mention, most babies aren’t even cute

Rio: Yes they are!

Rio: ALL babies are cute

Rio: this is because you’ve not been raised with animals

Buster: Nancy and I weren’t, you’ve looked at the newborn pictures

Rio: You were, just a bit pink

Buster: The word is premature, but if you feel like colour coding us, I’d probably pick purple

Rio: You still had the tiny fingernails and the little pouty lips and button nose, like all babies

Rio: I’m not going to collude in this baby slander

Buster: Nor am I in propaganda that encourages your already inevitable underage pregnancy

Rio: Wow, never heard that one before 🙄

Rio: not gonna happen, thank you very much

Buster: You’re welcome for the reminder that isn’t romantic and you aren’t living in a story

Rio: My mama lost out on her childhood and teenage years, I don’t need you to tell me anything, I saw it

Buster: Good, you’d only accuse me of lecturing again

Rio: You love doing it

Buster: I loved your silent treatment more

Rio: I noticed

Buster: So why break it now?

Rio: Why be nice to you?

Buster: Because you can’t help yourself

Rio: Clearly I can

Rio: or I’d not be here now

Buster: You’re here expecting me to help you, the same as before

Rio: Help how, exactly?

Rio: I’m happy they’re having a baby, there’s nothing to be done about it

Buster: You tell me, it’s your expectation

Rio: You’ve made it clear you owe me nothing

Buster: Clearly I haven't, or you’d have nothing to say to me

Rio: You can try again 

Buster: None of my effort is reserved for you

Rio: Then you can get over it 

Buster: And you can take your happy news somewhere else, I’m sure some of the family share your excitement, play the odds

Rio: Fine, do you think that Edie is going to be okay with it, when the shock wears off?

Buster: By the time the shock wears off she’ll have another brother or sister, so, no, I don’t

Rio: I don’t understand why she’s so upset by it

Buster: She’s been raised on fairytales but robbed of her own, I’d feel cheated too if I was her

Rio: But she’s always known it was him, we all have

Rio: I used to feel upset by it too but her daddy wasn’t a much better match for mum than mine

Buster: I barely know her, but I grasp the concept of fighting something you don’t want to accept, even when everyone else has

Rio: Is there anything I can do, in the meantime

Rio: I can’t just sit and watch her wait for something that’s never going to happen now

Buster: There are always things you can do, both for her sanity and to protect yours

Rio: It’s like she wants nothing to do with any of us anymore

Buster: Building a wall gives the illusion of safety, and distance

Rio: Yeah

Rio: and if I could believe it then I could just leave her to it, I would but

Buster: It hurts to want shit you can’t have, whoever’s in your way becomes a target of your lashing out, someone to blame

Rio: I’d sooner be a punching bag than stonewalled

Rio: maybe if I can talk to Django, she would listen to him

Buster: She knows that, which is why she’s not letting you be

Rio: None of us asked for this

Buster: Your mum did

Rio: Okay but have the issue with her

Rio: I’m seen as picking a side when I just want everyone to be happy

Buster: Everyone isn’t and won’t be, by wanting that you’ve picked a side, you’re asking Edie to change her mind, what she wants

Rio: I can’t ask my mum to change hers

Buster: Meaning she has to be the one to compromise, in no world is she going to think that’s anything but unfair

Rio: Right now

Rio: I just have to wait then, for her to come ‘round in her own time

Buster: Putting a time limit on it is for you and everyone else

Rio: I just want it to be better, than it has been since last summer

Buster: She does too, but her definition of what would make her feel better isn’t the same as yours

Rio: We’re a family, we can’t get any more fractured, what we need to do is come closer together

Buster: You can’t force her, her deadbeat dad is her family as well, unfortunately

Rio: He’s never around

Buster: Which she’ll get the opportunity to blame Johnny for more than ever now

Rio: Ughhhhhh

Rio: you’re meant to be giving me some kind of hope here

Buster: You told me to keep my hope for myself, remember

Rio: Hm

Rio: Surprised you do

Buster: I wasn’t blackout until much later

Rio: You weren’t the only one making up for lost time there

Buster: Dry January isn’t very worthwhile otherwise

Rio: You love a challenge

Buster: I rarely actually get one though

Rio: I believe you

Rio: kind of

Buster: Your belief is irrelevant, it’s mine that matters

Rio: Your challenges are in your past, you want that the story, so it is

Buster: Past, present or future, I’ll overcome them regardless

Rio: Why would I root for anything else?

Buster: You can do whatever you want, your actions and feelings don’t affect me

Rio: Okay

Rio: you don’t need to give the speech again

Buster: Don’t I?

Rio: Nope

Rio: I know how irrelevant my existence is to you, that doesn’t change what I’m going to do or say

Buster: Evidently, something we have in common

Rio: I don’t believe you but I don’t have to

Rio: it is what it is

Buster: We are who we are

Rio: Like it or not, boy

Buster: I don’t need to like you, thankfully

Rio: It’d be a waste of your time to hate me

Buster: Indifference doesn’t waste any

Rio: Sure

Rio: if you’re capable of that sort of thing

Buster: There are no limits to what I’m capable of

Rio: It’s not a brag, indifference is the opposite 

Buster: I’m not bragging about anything except being able to do whatever I want to

Rio: Anyone can do that, it’s the easiest thing in the world

Buster: If that was true more people would

Rio: People don’t because they’re trying to be better 

Buster: Ideally, but usually they don’t because they’re scared

Rio: Why would you be scared of getting what you want?

Buster: I’m not

Buster: actions have consequences and other people don’t like facing up to them, that’s all

Rio: Getting what you want isn’t a consequence, it makes you soft

Buster: Not if you work hard every day for it, the negative consequences are for those who don’t get what they want because you did

Buster: like in the example of your mum and Edie, everything has a knock-on effect

Rio: We can all get what we need

Buster: Tell that to Junior’s dad, but you’ll have to find him first

Rio: If he knew what he needed we’d not be in this situation

Buster: You’d be in another, different fuck up of your mum’s making

Rio: It’s not her fault

Buster: Why isn’t it her responsibility to do better? You’re quick to point my apparent flaws out and how I should

Rio: She did better by leaving him, which happened years ago

Buster: She would’ve by leaving him alone in the first place

Rio: What a useless thing to say

Rio: Give up on love and isolate, even if this wasn’t retroactive advice, it still sucks

Buster: It wasn’t love, pretending is what’s useless

Rio: You don’t know that

Rio: If she couldn’t be with Johnny then she deserved to find 2nd best

Buster: We both do

Buster: she’s with him about to have a kid, whatever stopped her then isn’t now, the excuse of can’t is null and void

Rio: You’re bringing up the past

Buster: What do you want me to say, it doesn’t matter?

Rio: Of course it fucking matters but he’s the nutcase kidnapping a child to get revenge, you don’t need to agree with him and blame my ma

Buster: I don’t agree with him, but she isn’t blameless, nothing works like that

Rio: I don’t care about loopholes, there’s right and there’s wrong

Rio: none of us but you claim to be perfect but her wrongs don’t excuse his now

Buster: Fine, I don’t care about coming to his defence

Rio: No shit, you’re doing it to be an arsehole to me as per

Buster: Take a hint and I wouldn’t have to

Rio: You have to problem with me that you claim to, you should be able to keep on subject

Rio: but you never do

Buster: You never listen to me on any subject

Rio: You stopped being interesting and started this charade

Buster: You’re interested exclusively in coming crying to me about shit that isn’t none of my business 

Rio: That’s all you’d reply to, I’m not naive 

Buster: Stop being desperate for my replies

Rio: I need someone to talk to about this

Buster: That someone isn’t me

Rio: Yeah, it is

Rio: you know all the players but you’re not involved

Rio: you can be objective and you’re not an adult so you won’t blab

Buster: I’m involved if you insist on involving me, babe

Rio: You’re not here

Rio: and it could be mutual but you never have any problems so that’s your only

Buster: You aren’t giving me an incentive

Rio: Then I’ll give you a problem

Rio: the oppression points are sorely needed for your UCAS app

Buster: You’ve got the wrong twin if you think I’m going to make yours mine and force myself front and centre

Rio: That’s why I can’t go to Nance, obviously

Rio: I can tell her when my friends or boyfriends are pissing me off but not for this

Buster: I wouldn’t go to her for that if I were you, but that’s your prerogative and mistake to make

Rio: It’s not that deep

Buster: Naturally, she has no depth

Rio: Okay as long as it’s stated you’re the one making the comments right now, we can agree

Buster: Unless I’m really off my face and all bets are off too, I’m not going to tell her

Rio: Me either

Rio: plus I’ve heard you say worse to her face so even if I was that sort of bitch, hardly worth it

Buster: Exactly, she’s my sister, I can say it

Buster: even if I have to threaten anyone else who does

Rio: She has her own friend and boyfriend dramas, for sure

Buster: Don’t start me on either subject

Rio: She’s not going to sleep with any of your friends either, ick doesn’t cover the terrible reputations they have

Buster: She will when the time’s right, like me and my separate birthdays 

Rio: Maybe but right now she doesn’t trust any of them 

Buster: Like I said, she isn’t that stupid

Rio: I think it would weird me out, if I had to share friends with any of my siblings

Buster: None of my friendships are that deep

Rio: I guess you’re just unlucky the separation isn’t easy

Rio: Edie was never going to try to hang with me and mine

Buster: It’s easy to keep tabs on her when we do, I can’t trust her either, not for the sake of our blood tie you claim is super important

Rio: You’d be mortified if she was, admit it

Buster: I’m mortified by her as is, cheers

Rio: You just expect better

Rio: you should probably teach law, you’d love to get paid to lecture people who will listen

Buster: Haven’t you heard, teaching’s for cunts that can’t do

Rio: Allegedly but Rocky became a cop and I think we hate them even more

Rio: he still gets invited to things

Buster: His loss

Rio: Are you going to be a defense lawyer?

Buster: What do you think?

Rio: Almost definitely but it’s been a while since you told me 

Buster: I’m not looking for someone to confide in, you are

Rio: But you can

Buster: I don’t want to

Rio: You could need to 

Buster: I don’t need anything from you

Rio: Alright

Buster: You throw me off balance

Rio: How?

Buster: You just always have

Rio: Your world is too small

Buster: It’s a bubble, I’m counting down to the pop, you already know that

Buster: [speaking of, give her a new updated countdown to uni cos it’s been months since the first]

Rio: It’s so long away

Rio: I’m so sick of not being 18

Buster: When you are you’ll wish you’re 21

Rio: You will, being in the states 

Buster: Yeah

Buster: I’m going with school [whenever he is, because we said that and why not bring it back at whatever point suits us, hence I won’t commit us now to whether it’s before y’all get together or after or for how long he’s going yet either cos again tbd]

Rio: Then you’ll know for sure 

Rio: that’s cool, you’ve got a shorter countdown until that goal

Buster: [give that countdown in days or whatever you’re doing for your unit of measurement, however long away it is]

Rio: Why do you get to go try out being a lawyer and everything I want to do I can’t until I’m an adult

Rio: talk about unfair

Buster: Privilege, [the name of his school] likes to at least pretend they give a shit about my future

Rio: Sure, they can list you in the notable alumni then

Buster: [a list], it’s on their website

Rio: [picking out the only famous in a celebrity way person because it’s usually politicians and other bores] 😍

Buster: Obama and his wife both went to Harvard Law

Rio: There you go, you can meet your Michelle

Buster: As long as she’s an international student as well, I can’t marry an American

Rio: Never live that down

Buster: My standards are too high to live with that accent for the rest of my life

Rio: You’re one to talk

Buster: What’s wrong with the way I talk?

Rio: Wrong is a harsh way to put it

Buster: You implied it

Rio: You’ve heard that craic off grandad forever

Buster: Well yeah, but I like him more than I like you, so I’m willing to let it slide

Rio: How rude

Buster: I am, according to you

Rio: If I say you’re putting it on, you tell me you’re not

Buster: I’ve been putting on a fake accent for ages, if I am

Rio: An accent that goes well with the rudeness

Buster: Precisely, I fit in

Rio: I know

Rio: you’d ensure you did whatever, I don’t blame you

Buster: I know how the game is played

Rio: You’re not stupid

Buster: I don’t lose, never will

Rio: Good

Rio: I think you’d be a sore loser

Buster: What kind of pussy accepts defeat graciously?

Rio: Exactly

Buster: [an anecdote that’s from when they were little like remember when we did such and such and you lost and you were so mad/upset/whichever because he remembers all these moments vividly]

Rio: Your memory is so selective because I remember when [throwing it back at him like remember when you did this because you didn’t win]

Buster: You don’t, that didn’t happen

Rio: Yes it did, we all got into trouble

Buster: [a retelling of this story which is twisted to fit his narrative, like we got in trouble because xyz, blatantly implying it’s her fault cos she made him mad about something, cos always]

Rio: You’ve always been full of it

Buster: You always make me angry

Rio: Everything makes you angry, not just me

Buster: I have self-control when you’re not around

Rio: You just take it out in different ways

Buster: More productive ways, you just like getting me into trouble

Rio: Nonsense, I’m never in trouble

Buster: Because I am instead, the direct comparison makes you look good

Rio: Yeah, it’s all part of my evil plan

Rio: because this family really values being saintly

Buster: Shame it isn’t, you’d be more interesting

Rio: Why would I be trying to interest you

Buster: You can’t help yourself again, babe

Rio: You can’t help being interested

Buster: I don’t deny wishing you were less boring, I just said so

Rio: I know how this works

Buster: Congrats on managing to keep up for once

Rio: There’s nothing more desperate than an attempt to prove otherwise, you can find that entertainment anywhere else

Buster: True, I’m used to your lack of

Rio: You’re not used to my anything

Buster: You wish

Rio: Last I hear, we’re strangers

Buster: Not yet, you keep finding your way back into contact

Rio: You unblocked me, honey

Buster: Nance probably did, she can’t remember her own phone pin to save her life, she’s constantly locked out and has to borrow mine

Rio: You’re making yourself sound so dumb right now

Rio: as if you let her near your phone, please

Buster: Why wouldn’t I?

Rio: Because she famously cannot be trusted

Buster: I don’t have anything to hide, the worst she could do is leak nudes I’m unconcerned if people see

Rio: Then you’re boring, if you really have nothing you’d keep private on your phone

Buster: I’m not ashamed of anything on there, she can’t use what doesn’t upset me against me

Rio: It’s not about upsetting or shame though

Buster: Her motives are

Rio: If you don’t get wanting to have things said between just you and the person you’re talking to then I don’t know what to tell you

Buster: I make my feelings known to whoever I’m talking to

Rio: And your sister, not weird at all

Buster: You’re turning it into something weird with whatever imaginary phone conversations you think I’m having

Rio: You’ve invented this whole fake scenario so you don’t have to admit you unblocked me at some point so 

Buster: I don’t remember unblocking you, there’s hardly a conspiracy

Rio: but Nancy is constantly on your phone and you don’t care if she’s seen your nudes, cool

Buster: If she’s looking at or for them that’s her future therapy bill, I’m not showing her

Rio: Well that’s something

Buster: What secrets do you want me to have?

Rio: I wasn’t hinting at a body or anything sinister

Rio: why are you making it out to be a big thing?

Buster: Why are you hinting that me and Nance have something fucked up going on?

Rio: You can make calls without unlocking your phone, I’m pointing out that you’re not being real

Buster: Who calls anyone? Except granddad on my birthday

Rio: Because you need to do emergency texting when you’re out of it

Rio: you’d just book the uber for her, why bother with this performance

Buster: My parents aren’t blood related, you know, wanting my sister isn’t in my DNA

Rio: Christ, no one said that

Buster: You’re practically saying it right now

Rio: I’m really not

Buster: Don’t

Rio: I say things to people I’m interested in that I’d not risk my siblings reading, that’s it

Buster: And I have face-to-face conversations with girls I’m interested in, allegedly a novel concept to you

Rio: Who doesn’t sext these days?

Buster: I knew your boyfriends were all talk without you needing to point it out

Rio: 🙄 Very mature

Buster: We’ve established you’ve got more of an interest in people than I do

Rio: You’ve already said you think I’ll be a teen mum, which is laughable

Buster: Proving me wrong by not having to raise a kid while you still are will be its own reward, I won’t need to pat you on the back

Rio: I’ve nothing to prove to you

Buster: Don’t then

Rio: I don’t care what you think, you just bullshit anyway

Buster: When?

Rio: I’m not going to sit here and parrot it all back to you, you know you’re not being honest and you know when you’re distorting what could be

Rio: do as you please but don’t expect me to buy it

Buster: I honestly don’t remember unblocking you, you wanting a different truth doesn’t mean I’m lying

Rio: It isn’t about that

Rio: forget it

Buster: What’s it about?

Rio: Yeah, right

Buster: Tell me

Rio: No, Buster

Rio: because you get to deny everything

Buster: Do you seriously want me to admit everything?

Rio: You’re right that there’s no point us talking if it’s going to be like this

Buster: I told you so, here the phrase finally is

Rio: Better late than never

Buster: You’re the one who’s full of it if you genuinely believe things can be different, that there’s another way for us to talk

Rio: You’ve not tried, because then you’d have to admit you were wrong

Buster: You have no fucking idea how hard I’m trying

Rio: You think I’m not?

Buster: You think we can be friends or something

Buster: that’s bullshit

Rio: And you think you can ignore me forever

Buster: If you agreed to do the same, I could

Rio: I’m immature for thinking we could be friends but you pretending none of us exist is the bigger thing to do, why

Buster: Because I can’t control what’ll happen if I don’t

Rio: You can’t control it anyway but you’re obsessed with the illusion

Buster: I have to try

Rio: I can’t stop you

Buster: You shouldn’t want to

Rio: You don’t care what I want, or think, you’ve made it clear

Rio: you don’t get to actually change my mind though

Buster: Back at you, babe

Rio: Don’t come back in March

Rio: limit it to the ones you’re not allowed to miss

Buster: Fine by me

Rio: Great

Buster: [Okay so on the eve of St Paddy’s sometime, catch him coming at his sister]

Buster: I’m staying, don’t go

Nancy: What, why?

Buster: Because we can have our own celebrations

Nancy: You do remember no one does it here

Buster: Exactly, don’t you want to show them all how it’s done?

Nancy: Why don’t you want to go, it’s like your favourite holiday

Buster: Come on, Nance, you have to agree it’s getting boring, the same bullshit year after year

Nancy: I don’t know, it’s not like we’d be doing anything else here on a [whatever random day the 17th has fallen on this year]

Buster: You love throwing a party with a theme

Nancy: Like any of them need an excuse to mock our heritage ever, I’m not throwing a party for them to do it 

Buster: You can mock how [whoever she’s beefing with rn] looks in green

Buster: especially if you make their outfit clash with their skin tone post shots

Nancy: What are you actually up to?

Buster: I could be up to lots of things given the ideal atmosphere

Nancy: Ew, disgusting

Buster: Blame [a girl we’re pretending this is all for the benefit of, even though it absolutely isn’t], I think she should get to know me better, that’s all

Nancy: Why on earth would I want to be around that

Buster: You’ll get to be around [boys he normally doesn’t let her hang around with aka his footie or boxing pals he’s throwing under the bus atm lol] too

Nancy: 🤨

Buster: What now?

Nancy: You’re perfectly aware I don’t trust you, you’re a very untrustworthy person

Buster: So are you, that doesn’t mean we can’t mutually benefit from plans I’m making for my own

Nancy: I’m not interested in your sweaty friends

Buster: Fine, don’t be

Buster: I’ll host by myself

Nancy: Okay, freak

Nancy: make us both a laughing stock in the process because you’re on one

Buster: Says you, what’s your problem?

Nancy: You’re far too keen it’s giving loser energy

Buster: Perhaps I was just trying to appeal to yours

Nancy: HILARIOUS

Nancy: [this girl] is literally a generous 6, you’re going to ruin my social life for that?

Buster: Obviously she isn’t my real target, I’m not stupid enough to tell you which of the friends that she’d bring with her is

Nancy: Bold of you to imagine I’d care

Nancy: the thought of it sickens me

Buster: Very dramatic, are you done yet?

Nancy: If you were banking on us being seen as more reliable together than alone then you’ve obviously suffered a brain injury

Nancy: they’ll either let you alone or they won’t

Buster: I was banking on you organising the party so I didn’t have to

Nancy: No thank you, absolutely no one looks good in green

Buster: An absolute lie

Nancy: It’s not a lie that I’ve done my best to lose any hint of an accent, not for you to spoil it all in a manic episode

Buster: We’ve never had any hint of an accent

Nancy: You’re ignorant to criticism, you always have been

Buster: Stop criticising me then, you’re wasting your breath

Nancy: I don’t want any part in your humiliation

Nancy: but I’ll see who is available to go out, perhaps

Buster: [whatever the drug of choice is at this age at this era, using the kinda silly posh slang he mocked because trying to get her on side] is going to be available, that much organisation I have already done 

Nancy: We both get the same allowance, what makes you think I can’t get my own

Buster: Why wouldn’t you use mine and save yours?

Buster: Don’t be an idiot, flattering shades of green aren’t going to shop for themselves

Nancy: I’ve spent this month’s already 

Buster: That’s a shame, I’d offer to lend you some but you’d only call my mental health further into question

Nancy: You can give me some to look the other way to whatever nonsense you’re pulling that requires you to be in town instead of in Dublin

Buster: Yeah, potentially

Nancy: Do or don’t, girls literally never have to pay, I can get whatever drugs I want from anyone

Buster: You do that, Nance

Nancy: This has been deeply weird and unpleasant

Buster: I just don’t want to go, why can’t you just not be a bitch about it?

Nancy: Have we met?

Buster: Regrettably

Nancy: What’s wrong with you, did you get an A- on a test or something

Buster: I wouldn’t open up to you now if I had

Nancy: Rightly so, do get a grip

Buster: Forget I said anything, use your dyslexic brain fog to someone’s advantage for once

Nancy: I don’t even think that’s a thing

Buster: You’re the expert

Nancy: Not really but they have to give me what I want to not discriminate so worth it

Buster: Enjoy Dublin’s nonsense, I personally can’t wait to hear who else is having a baby next

Nancy: I’ve not decided what I’m doing

Buster: Of course you haven’t

Nancy: And who else would be having a baby?

Nancy: Maybe Tommy and his mrs, if they can

Buster: More to the point, who cares?

Nancy: Grouchy

Nancy: it’s not as if mum and dad will get the bug, way too risky

Buster: You think I’m your humiliating relative having a breakdown, look around when you get to the pub

Nancy: Why are you taking such a stance?

Buster: Why aren’t you?

Nancy: Because I couldn’t care less, it’s fun and entertaining

Nancy: no one’s family here has any interesting problems, it’s all the usual, gambling, affairs, drugs, blah blah blah

Buster: None of it is interesting to me

Nancy: Clearly

Buster: But you’re right, you’re a liability rather than a help

Nancy: Ooh, reverse psychology, very clever 🙄

Nancy: I’m going to do what I want, as are you, there’s no need to collaborate 

Buster: You need a brain to study for those tactics to work

Nancy: You’re in such a mood, oh my GOD

Nancy: is one of the parentals cheating, have you found out?

Buster: I’ll make sure you’re the last to know

Nancy: That’s not fair, they’re my parents too

Buster: Why would I play fair?

Nancy: I know who I’ll live with anyway, I worked that all out yonks ago

Buster: They’d hardly fight over you, you’re the least favourite

Nancy: 💔💔💔💔

Nancy: You’re the one intent on crying, dear brother

Buster: No I’m not, I’ve already made my intentions as clear as possible

Nancy: It’s unfortunate that Ava will insist on being buffeted back and forth but at least we can part ways

Buster: You wish

Nancy: You’d obviously go with mum

Buster: I’d split my time, they both have merits to their parenting

Nancy: 🥱

Buster: Yeah, your Parent Trap fantasy is predictably tedious

Nancy: As is your Gatsby party

Buster: If only [someone we’re shading] would drown in the pool

Nancy: If you’re going to kill someone, please do some homework first, write the manifesto, make it interesting

Nancy: not going to get a Netflix doc for any old run-of-the-mill thing

Buster: I’ve done all my homework

Nancy: Going to have to replace the hot tub but I suppose I’ll survive in the interim 

Buster: The cockroach comparison writes itself

Nancy: Wowwww

Buster: The least you could do is aspire to be a green insect, but alas

Nancy: So bitchy 🐈

Nancy: You’re obviously going to have the damn party regardless of my valid protestations so who fucking cares

Buster: Maybe I fucking care, Nance

Nancy: Why?

Buster: Because you’re my sister, other people give a shit about their siblings, allegedly 

Nancy: Are you already pissed?

Nancy: Lordy, if you want to be this sentimental you can go terrify the child, she’s your sister too

Buster: I know, she acts like it

Nancy: Because she’s 8, she knows no better

Buster: Because she’s better than you, at 8

Nancy: So I’ve been told

Buster: Rightly so

Nancy: How predictable of you

Buster: I wouldn’t waste my time on originality for your sake

Nancy: You would prefer the company of a people-pleasing child, you’ve described your whole circle

Buster: Your circle defying description isn’t the flex you think it is

Nancy: Neither is your plea for being a family, we’re not

Buster: You’re not, because this family doesn’t have the appropriate lineage for you

Nancy: They don’t care about us, they never have, you’re actually delusional if you think they do

Buster: You’re delusional claiming they don’t

Nancy: Get real, Buster, you’re not 8 now

Buster: And you’re not 18 yet, get a grip

Buster: you won’t be able to take care of yourself even when you are

Nancy: When are they ever here, what do they even do

Nancy: We’ve looked after ourselves since we were [whatever ludicrous age you are claiming ‘cos you’ve never been left alone lol]

Buster: Check the calendar

Buster: not to mention your selective memory

Nancy: They’re off on a jaunt so dad can get blackout and you’re actively having a meltdown, they should give a fuck, that’s their jobs, allegedly

Buster: Not wanting to go to Dublin isn’t having a meltdown it’s possessing common sense

Nancy: Whatever you say

Buster: Rio’s been crying to me since before Christmas, constantly telling me how terrible her life is, I’ve had my fill of the misery without needing to catch a flight

Nancy: Oh God, just avoid her

Buster: I blocked her for ages, she still won’t take the hint

Nancy: I’ll talk to her instead, I want to know all the gossip

Buster: Which is the reason she avoids you

Nancy: She doesn’t avoid me

Buster: She hasn’t told you any of it

Nancy: I don’t know, tell me what she’s told you, maybe she has

Buster: She told me she can’t confide in you

Nancy: Really?

Buster: Unsurprisingly, no-one can

Nancy: I don’t know why she would say that, we talk all the time

Buster: Because it’s true, she only talks to you about her boyfriends and her friend drama, yeah? That’s what she said

Nancy: I can’t believe she said that to you, of all people

Buster: She’s desperate to speak to someone who isn’t waiting for their chance to talk and pass the gossip on

Nancy: Ha, WOW

Nancy: well now I definitely want to go

Buster: You’re welcome

Nancy: You’re such a prick for not telling me ‘til now

Buster: You refuse to do me any favours

Nancy: No duh, because you’re such a little rat 

Buster: You’re too preoccupied with your own manufactured drama to notice she can’t stand you, you dropped the ball, Nance

Nancy: She’s just upset about her family drama, lashing out, which is way uncalled for but hey

Buster: She’s upset you’re selfish and untrustworthy, which is ridiculous considering you always have been, but nevertheless

Nancy: How can I be there for her if she’s not telling me the story? How is that MY fault, oh my gosh

Buster: You can’t, she knows that

Nancy: Everyone in this supposed family has such an agenda against me

Buster: I’m not entertaining your victim complex

Nancy: Why would you ever acknowledge the truth when you want to play happy families

Buster: Her opinion’s justified, you’ve proven time and again you can’t be relied on for anything, none of that is anyone’s fault but yours

Nancy: Never mind the fact no one is ever here for me

Nancy: but no, I have to be for all of you and do it perfectly or so help me

Buster: Your selective memory strikes again, I used to be here for you

Nancy: Oh please, your one and only concern is yourself, I don’t know why you’d fake otherwise to the child

Buster: The amount you don’t know is staggering

Nancy: Ha ha

Nancy: just be honest about who you are, I don’t want you to try and be some protective, affectionate brother type, it’s so weird and disingenuous 

Buster: I am being honest, brutally I’ve been told

Nancy: Let’s keep it that way, your business is yours and mine is mine

Buster: Consider it done

Nancy: Toodles

[queenxfjustice]

He had a big task on his hands this year. A singular question that seemed impossible to answer-

How do you outdo a motorcycle?

Last year, only about a month into their relationship, he worked his ass off to save up enough cash to afford the down payment for her own Ducati. Wasn't exactly the same as buying her one outright, but that definitely wasn't in the cards for him, and regardless she still considered it a gift he gave her.

So how on Earth was he going to top that?

It was only upon reflecting on the past year that he found an answer. She had powers like his now, and she wanted to help him like the others did, but until recently he'd been... reluctant to let her. So perhaps his gift could be a gesture to commit to that, to letting her be his partner in fighting crime as much as she was in everything else. It may not be as grand as last year's gift, but... maybe it could help him make amends for pushing her away before.

"Merry Christmas, Koto."

He handed her a small white box tied up with black ribbon. Inside the box was a smart watch that seemed custom made, with a two round bits of plastic at the top that almost looked like ears. Turning it on would reveal an animated Buchimaru face.

"It's a pretty standard smart watch. Has a fitness tracker, supports all the usual apps, built-in reminders for events on your schedule, all that jazz. You can even swap out the ears and Buchi-kun for something more Majima themed if you feel like it. But it does have one unique function-"

He rolled up his sleeve to show he had a matching watch, though he clearly hadn't had the time to customize it yet. He then reached over to his wrist, and held down a small button on the side. Suddenly, her watch started to vibrate.

"These two are paired, using a rather sophisticated setup Futaba made for me. So whenever I send a ping to the system, if you just give this little button here a quick tap-"

He pressed the same button on hers, and suddenly the screen was replaced with a map, with a flashing little Spider icon showing his exact location.

"-it'll show you where I am. So if I'm ever in trouble, I can just hold the button, and it'll let you know. And the reverse is also true."

He'd also set hers to always be able to locate his, regardless of if he sent an SOS or not, as a way to give her some peace of mind. He did not however include the same feature on his, as a way to respect her privacy and keep him from being overprotective... as much.

"I know I've said this a million times since it happened, but I'm sorry I was being so... stubborn before. I was trying to protect you, but I ended up hurting us both. I'm... I'm only at my best when you're by my side, I see that now. So I made these so that even when you're not, you're only ever a button press away."

"And I swear on my parents' graves I'm going to use this. I'm not just going to leave it at home, or never press the button even when I know I'm in a rough spot. I made that mistake once before, and I don't plan to repeat it."

It was clear he was still beating himself up over his behavior of months prior. Which was typical of him, but this seemed like a particularly bad case. He was scared of losing her so much he nearly did anyway. Just... in a different sense.

"You're my partner, and I promise I'm going to treat you like it."

Christmas was usually a time for families to share a meal and lovers to have a romantic date night. Sure, kids got gifts and all that jazz, but the main event was spending a romantic night with your special someone. So of course, Makoto and Aaron had a night all to themselves planned. Cuddled up together in the attic, Makoto was surprised when he pulled out the small gift.

"I thought we agreed on no gifts this year?" She asked as he handed her the small box. "I don't have a gift for you!"

Despite that, she opened the box and admired the smartwatch as he made his long-winded explanation. Makoto's eyes darted up to look at him, her heart aching as he beat himself up over his past actions. She was partly to blame - Makoto had spent the whole couple of months refusing to speak to Aaron even when he tried to reconcile at first. She reached out, placing her hand on his cheek and giving him an encouraging smile.

"You didn't need to do all this for me," she replied. "I know you beat yourself up about our hardships. I know you regret some of the things you've said and done. I do too, but I'll always love you, Aaron. We might have our ups and downs but in the end, I'll always be here for you."

She leaned in and gave him a small kiss. "Thank you for this," she added, putting the watch on her wrist. "Merry Christmas, Aaron. I love you."

[decks-writing-blog]

As a Guest

Summary: Papyrus invites Burgerpants to attend his smaller Christmas gathering.

Also, this is an Underfell fic.

~

Even earlier than last year, the Christmas decorations started going up. With them came the Christmas tunes that had just about bore a hole in Burgerpants’ brain last year. It was all way too early for all of it. If he had it his way, it could all wait until a week before Christmas. Though in general if he had it his way, he’d get paid better, treated more respectively and given more time off. All of which was about as likely as Mettaton deciding not to milk the holiday for as much money as he could for as long as he could.

And so Burgerpants plastered on an even bigger fake smile and wished human and monster customers alike a “Happy Holidays,” when they came to his little burger joint in the middle of Mettaton’s Mall. Why it was “Happy Holidays” when the only holiday seemingly anyone openly celebrated or decorated for was Christmas was another one of those weird human things he probably would’ve care more about if he had the energy to be curious.

With the decorations and music came an increase in shoppers and thus an increase in folk who stopped by the Burger Emporium. It would get worse as Christmas approached but for now it was only a mild increase in annoyance. In preparation for it getting worse though, Burgerpants slacked off as much as he could get away with, which he actually did year round but now, he did it a little extra. Which included the occasional unsanctioned adventure to the rear ally to smoke a cigarette as slowly as he could get away with, which was actually quite fast.

Upon returning from one such adventure he was almost not surprised to find Papyrus waiting for him in the store. Despite how much of an ass he’d made of himself before exiting their first meeting, upon their next happenstance run in with each other, Papyrus hadn’t hated him. Such meetings happened a couple more times before they started happening on purpose.

Somehow they were friends now, sort of anyway. Papyrus was using him as a means to keep a distant but inside eye on what Mettaton was up to. It was an open secret that neither of them discussed, which was just fine. Burgerpants had no loyalty to his boss and would gladly share anything he knew of him to almost anyone who wanted to know. Also, it was good to be on decent terms with someone higher up. It might even eventually lead to Burgerpants being able to quit his job. Unlikely but he could hope, right?

“Hey,” Burgerpants said as he went past him to make his way back behind the counter. “You here to do some Christmas shopping?”

Papyrus sighed. “It is expected of me so, yes. You have any suggestions for gift ideas?”

“Not really but I can tell you not to get anything from any of the stores around here. It’s all overpriced garbage.” Apparently this was the only all monster run shopping center still in business. Making it a novelty and thus Mettaton got away with increasing the prices on everything. Shocking no one ever, wages didn’t go up with that price increase. “Don’t get anyone anything Christmas themed either. No one wants to use anything like that in the middle of summer.”

“Noted.” He was silent for a few seconds while Burgerpants pretended to clean the counter – just wiping it down with a rag that was visibly clean, so wiping away whatever dust might’ve fallen while he’d been away but not much else. “Also, to get out of attending Mettaton’s party this year, I will be holding my own much smaller gathering. Assuming you are free and would like to, you are welcome to join.”

Burgerpants paused to look at him. His face was just as unreadable as ever. “As a waiter, cook, or both?” Likely Burgerpants was slotted to work Mettaton’s party this year too. But with Papyrus being second in command of the Royal Guard, Mettaton might let him off to work for him for the night instead. It’d still be work and a smaller party would make slacking off without being noticed harder but the job itself would likely be easier.

“As a guest.”

Oh. When was the last time Burgerpants had been invited to a party as a guest? … Surely it had to have happened at least once when he was younger. If so he couldn’t recall it. It had to be too good to be true, there had to be a catch, meaning he should decline. But the Surface was still too good to be true too and yet here they were. So maybe this invitation was legit, especially since there wasn’t much to be gained by such a lie.

“Uh… sure. Sounds fun. You think you could tell Mettaton you’re hiring me as a waiter so he’ll let me off?” There’s no way he was going to be let off just to have fun. Mettaton wouldn’t be happy but couldn’t say anything if the second in command of the Royal Guard wanted him.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Cool. Thanks.” Turns out having friends in high places was useful. Who could’ve ever guessed? Burgerpants would have to continue to pursue this allyship for however long Papyrus allowed.

[sakurarisen]

♫☃♏

Headcanon Time!

♫:  three of my muse’s favorite songs

Given Sera would honestly say anything traditional, soft, lyrical - Essentially she'd sit and listen to soft rock or local music, really, along with, ironically, the Stamp song from Remake, she'll never explain why - I'm gonna cheat and pick off my playlist for her. XD The top three would be Speechless - Naomi Scott, This Is Me - Kesha (which admittedly in more modern verses does make her cry when she's able to listen to it and is one of her primary theme songs), and Return of the Snow Queen - Phrynna <3 Though honestly anything Lindsey Stirling releases is also way there, both on her playlist (Foreverglow especially!) and as something Sera herself would listen to!

☃:  does my muse like the holidays?

Sera loves them, especially christmas! There's something comforting about them, especially now that she's older, and she loves christmas especially for being a season where people are generous. For a few weeks out of the year, people reach deep into their heart and become kinder, gentler, more open - Things she wants to see all year round, and she hopes to eventually see the magic of christmas eventually stretch out past those few weeks.

She's also especially fond of holiday decorations - she never really got to see those as a child, and now that she has her own home and family, she's prone to going all out and decorating everything she can, especially if it's sparkly and shiny! <3 Sparkly easter eggs, glitter and fake snow, lights and sparkles... She loves all of it, and never fails to get lost in the magic of the holidays! <3

♏:  something my muse obsesses over

TW: Abuse mentions ahead.

Tending to Zack's sword and doing chores. Although it's way too big and heavy for her, very nearly matching her height, Sera will stay up all night to clean it and make sure it's ready for use the following day, even if it doesn't appear to need tending to. Likewise, she's forgo sleep to get her household tasks done, or to run errands and take care of deliveries - If she has anything left to do at the end of the day, she simply can't sleep. It weighs on her and leaves her restless, and more than once Zack's woken in the middle of the night to her in the kitchen washing dishes rather than actually sleeping beside him.

In truth, it's not so much of an obsession, though it certainly presents itself as one, and is more in line with her traumas; Sera will call it a need to be a 'good kitty' to those close enough to her she feels safe being completely honest with, and it ties in both with her nickname of 'Kitten' from Zack and her past abuse. Being 'kitten' is something of a personal shield for her (for reasons I won't get into here because that's a meta/HC in and of itself) and serves as her last line of defense, and she desperately wants to be 'good' - She wants to be dependable. She wants to be reliable. Upbeat. Not a bother. Helpful. Someone people look at and smile, not roll their eyes and get tired of whenever she's in the same room as them.

If she gets everything done she needs to, nobody has a reason to complain about it. If his sword is clean and tended to, it's one less weight on his shoulders, and one less task he has to worry about. If she can keep the kitchen clean then nobody can worry about it, or call her out on it not being sparkling. Work done on time, or even better early, means nobody else is put out because of her. She's not a disappointment, and nobody will be angry or upset or disappointed in her. She's kitten, and she's been good and helpful!

....Right?

[bearpillowmonster]

Donkey Kong Country 2

Every now and then, I like to have a yearly tradition, normally taking place around Christmas. For a while, it was an Aladdin movie every year. Next round it was Hunchback. Next round, it was to read a Star Wars book. Last year I finished the Thrawn trilogy but I also started Donkey Kong Country. I've played the games sparingly and I wasn't really a fan but I always appreciated what they did for gaming. I couldn't say that I ever beat the game and thought maybe the first was different from the rest, so I finished it last year and thought it was good but nothing to write home about unless you were there when it released hence why there's no review.

This year, I decided to keep the tradition and play DKC2 and I've always known that this was everyone's favorite but I've always found it to be the hardest and what's the point when Donkey Kong isn't even in it? Well, I understand now.

Let's start with the setting. Pirates. An easy concept to grab from especially since we had themes of it in the original, King K even being on a pirate ship of his own but we take it to a whole new level. The beginning of the first game had it very simply put, the bananas are gone, go get them back. This one, Donkey Kong has been kidnapped…I did not know that, that explains it then. So he enlists the help of Dixie Kong, which I also know is a fan favorite but I never understood why. She is though. When you switch characters in DKC, it was usually through a cool high five, this one, Dixie kicks Diddy out of the way and says "It's my turn." (At least in my head she says that) She glides with her hair which you already know I have a thing for if you saw me talking about Conker. Her idle animations are blowing gum and drinking a juice box. She plays the guitar at the end of a level. I like Diddy's precision but I can't say I used him all that much in comparison.

The bosses are better this time around (though a few are fairly similar). Overall, it's the better DK game. So what's wrong with it? Why did I dislike it?

You can run. I learned this last year in the original but it didn't hit me until now that I didn't know that as a kid and would try making these sloped jumps with no luck or speed behind them, that's partially why it was so hard. But it's still hard, mind you, especially when you're playing legit with lives and stuff. There are instances where it just doesn't seem plausible to do some of these things reasonably like the ghost ropes or the King Zing Sting boss, they're a bit too precise and-

THIS STUPID! THIS FRICKIN STUPID SNAKE LEVEL WITH THE TOXIC WASTE COMING AFTER YOU IN A TIMED MANNER BUT YOU HAVE TO WAIT FOR HIM TO JACK HIMSELF OFF TO JUMP HIGHER. I WAS YELLING AND SCREAMING "WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!" AND MY PARENTS EVEN GOT CONCERNED "WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?" I WAS PREPARED TO GO OFF ON THEM GETTING IN MY WAY OF THE FIGHT BETWEEN ME AND…RATTLY. THEY MAKE HIM OUT TO BE A HERO BUT THIS GAME ISN'T DANTE'S INFERNO, IT'S ABOUT APES! I HOPE I NEVER SEE A SNAKE AGAIN. I DROPPED THIS GAME AND DIDN'T COME BACK WITH JUST A FEW LEVELS LEFT. GOOD RIDDANCE GREEN SLIME.

[piastrinorris]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.3k

A/N: Fun fact: with this chapter, the BSBL timeline now coordinates perfectly with our own! Ralphie's living in real time now :)

This chapter does define a specific family dynamic with reader, which I know puts a lot of people off because it's not identical to theirs, but I needed to make it something so that the story could progress. I hope you still enjoy it!

“What on earth is that monstrosity?!” Ralph asks with disgust as the door closes behind him.

“Good afternoon to you,” you say in a voice that mocks Ralph’s before returning to your own usual tone. “Good afternoon, Ralph! How was your day at work? Oh, it was quite spectacular, I helped transform a gentleman into another man named Elvis, not that I’d know who he is or why he’s so important that people want to dress up as him, but nonetheless, what a marvellous day! Why, you look absolutely swept off your feet, what sort of old-school gentleman would I be if I didn’t insist on helping? Oh, well that’s very kind of you, Ralph, thank you so much for offering!”

You look up and burst into laughter at Ralph’s highly unamused expression. “You didn’t answer my question.”

You point at the object in front of you. “’S a tree. Big thing, grows outside, birds live in it. Mind you, that’s the real deal, this thing’s just made of plastic,” you wriggle a branch up and down as if that demonstrates your point at all.

“I know what a Christmas tree is, I mean are you really putting all those lights on it?” He asks with an upturned nose.

“What’s wrong with these?” You ask as you lift up the chain of Christmas lights from where they’d been resting across your shoulders.

“All the colours, it’s so… Where’s the consistency, where’s the theme?” he asks.

You roll your eyes, “Oh my god, I should have known you’re a white-lights guy. Anyway, it’s no fun limiting yourself to just one colour or whatever. If I see a decoration that I like, I buy it. Simple,” you shrug. “I could really use a hand with these, though, if you’re free,” you offer, waggling your eyebrows.

He frowns, "After all that?!"

You sigh in exhaustion, "Sorry. Twenty minutes untangling these pissing lights has made me a bit of a bitch.”

Ralph offers a small smile. “Then I suppose I should prevent your mood from getting worse, shouldn’t I? Um, where should I -?” he asks, gesturing and leaning from side to side, his eyes following the wire that encompasses you as he tries to find the end.

You giggle, “Here, I’ll keep this end, you get ’round the other side of the tree and I can hand the lights over to you. Just make a little gap between the wires,” you show him how, “every now and then and put it round a branch. Got it?” Ralph nods, looking at the tree intently.

On three separate occasions, Ralph worries that the lights aren’t long enough to fit all the way around the tree. You promise him that they’ve been long enough for the last three years, and you’re sure they haven’t shrunk while they’ve been in storage. “And how did you even manage this ordeal on your own for this long?!” he asks incredulously.

“It’d start off with me kicking the tree stand around and around,” you explain, “until it got to the lower, wider parts and I’d just give up and throw the lights over the top and pull them back down again.” Ralph giggles at the mental image before continuing the job at hand.

“Now, what did I say, hm?” Ralph eventually asks exasperatedly, gesturing towards his side of the bottom of the tree. “Not enough for this area!”

You crane your head around to look and grin, “Nah, that’s perfect!” He looks at you, bewildered, and you laugh, “Look, you just,” you start pushing the tree around so that the one bald patch is facing the wall next to the socket the lights plug into, plug the lights in and step back with arms out to show off the tree. “See? Looks great! We did it!”

He frowns, “It’s not… Perfect, though.”

“Well, maybe not,” you shrug, “but we did it, and the effort we put into it is what makes it perfect for this little flat.” Ralph’s ears turn pink at the notion of you potentially calling something you’ve done together perfect. “Right, now it’s time for the ornaments. And no judging them, okay?”

Your warning doesn’t stop him. “What on earth is this?”

You look over and grin. “It’s a monkey! Look at its little face,” you coo. “I got given it ’cause I like monkeys.”

“But why is it skiing?” Ralph asks, poking at the crocheted skis stitched onto its crocheted feet.

“Because it’s Christmas, duh,” you deadpan sarcastically, squinting at Ralph as though it were the most obvious thing in the world as you point out the Santa hat it’s wearing. He mimics your expression back to you, making you laugh, which only makes him smile as he eventually admits defeat and puts the ornament on the tree.

Once the tree is decorated, you step back and huff out a harsh breath. “Please tell me it’s all over now,” Ralph groans.

You giggle, “If you wanna stop, then fine, but I still have to put the decorations around the rest of the flat.”

“N-no! We have to - we’re decorating together, aren’t we?” Ralph asks hurriedly.

“Well, yeah, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can take it from here, I only really needed help with the lights -”

“No! It’s fine! I can help!” Ralph rummages through the box closest to him and pulls out something long, plastic and green. “What is this?” he frowns.

“Oh!” you laugh, embarrassed. “Oh, we don’t have to put that one up this year. That’s, um… Have you ever heard of mistletoe? The plant you’re supposed to… kiss under?” At those words, the fake sprig flies out of Ralph’s hands as though he’s been poked by a cattle prod. You watch it eventually land on the other side of the flat, impressed at its airtime, before continuing. “Yeah, it’s a dumb joke everyone makes about me being chronically single, so they put it up over the door in case I happen to come in with someone else, but obviously now I… I have you here, so… It’d. Be weird,” you falter as you instead focus on digging out a garland of tinsel to drape across the table, and definitely not on the thought of potentially having an excuse to kiss Ralph without consequence. You definitely don’t keep staring at the fake mistletoe on the floor and you definitely don’t consider hanging it up anyway.

Of course you can’t. Ralph blushes at the mere thought of his hand being held, to force him into a situation where he’d feel coerced to kiss you is far worse than never getting to. Instead, you just find a natural excuse to move over to that part of the flat to kick it out of sight. No need to acknowledge it any more. 

Not that Ralph could acknowledge it anyway, either, his mind’s too full of thoughts of being able to hold the mistletoe between you two whenever he had the urge to kiss you and you having to comply, followed by his own silent self-scolding of how vastly inappropriate such an action would be.

Once the house is finally all decorated, you and Ralph collapse on the sofa. “Well, thank goodness that’s all over!” Ralph exclaims exhaustedly. “Though, I must say, it does still look… Festive. Even if not all of it is coordinated.”

“Wanna know the worst bit?” you hold back laughter. “We’re not even gonna be here to appreciate this on actual Christmas Day.”

“We’re?” Ralph asks, before nodding in sad realisation. “Ah. Because you’re going away and I can’t be trusted to provide for myself, still,” Ralph scolds himself quietly, but you frown, leaning yourself against him sympathetically.

“It’s not that! You’ve been doing pretty well lately, actually,” you smile at him. “No, I’m going to my parents’ for Christmas, and they wanna meet my new friend, Ralph.”

His ears turn bright red. “You - You, want… Want me to meet your p-parents?”

“Yeah! They already know all the others, they like to stay up to date with all the people in my life. Figured it’s about time they met my flatmate, eh,” you nudge him with your elbow and he laughs half-heartedly.

“Yes, quite,” he replies faintly. He still hadn’t found the right time to tell you about his encounter with Pete, and the momentum of bringing back anything from that weekend especially has long since gone. So as far as you know, he’s still on borrowed time. And now you want your family knowing about him? What sort of motivation would you have for taking him with you?

Unless, of course, you had been telling Ralph a white lie when you’d said it’s not that he can’t be trusted in the flat by himself. You probably just still want to keep a close eye on him. That has to be it. There’s no other logical reason.

~~~

“Remind me again how you two met, then?” your dad asks Ralph at the dinner table.

From memory, Ralph recites the backstory you’d created on your way there in a slightly stilted tone, “I am a family friend of Connor’s, who I know you’re familiar with.” You ignore the disapproving looks your parents share - of all your friends, Connor was always the one they were the least keen on, which is why you felt it safest to use him as a backstory since they’re the least likely to talk to him - as he continues. “I had recently left an… Unfortunate situation, I sought him out, he unfortunately had too many housemates as it was, but…” Ralph looks over at you, seeking approval in his storytelling.

“But then I came to the rescue,” you beam, quickly squeezing Ralph’s hand in affirmation under the table. The pink of his ears is obscured from your view when he looks over to you, as you smile at him proudly while your parents aren’t looking.

“What I don’t understand is,” your mum starts, takes her time chewing an entire mouthful of food, then carries on, pointing her fork at you, “have you moved and not told us, then? ’Cause I swear you were living in that one-bed, unless…” she waves her fork between the two of you with raised eyebrows, and you roll your eyes.

“There’s a sofa too, Mum,” you explain. “It’s fine, honestly.”

“Well, still, the sofa is no place for a young man like him to sleep on long-term, what about his poor back?” she asks.

Ralph looks at you like a deer in headlights, silently asking you if you should admit that he’s not the one sleeping on it. You try your best to give him a reassuring look as you rack your brain to think of a response, but your dad catches on, dropping his cutlery onto his plate in outrage. “Do not tell me you pay almost a grand a month to sleep on your own sofa.”

Ralph’s head hangs in shame, but you come to his defence. “I don’t! Ralph pays towards the rent now that he’s got a steady job, and it only started because I didn’t realise he was going to be staying this long.”

“So, I assume you’re saving up for your own place in the meantime, then?” your father asks Ralph, who has been too busy focusing on eating the rest of his meal in silence. Ralph simply nods at him, and your dad grunts, “Well. At least you’re getting there. And you both haven’t killed each other, yet, so things must be going well!” he laughs loudly, and Ralph forces out his own laugh in slight fear.

You roll your eyes again, “God, Dad, you’re so weird sometimes. C’mon, Ralph, help me clear the table.” You gesture with your head as you stand up and start collecting the plates. Ralph follows suit, following you into the kitchen. You mumble, “Really sorry about them. If it helps, my dad’s only ribbing you that much because he likes you. It’s his weird way of scoping you out to see if you can take it.”

Ralph nods with a frown. “So, should I also be as verbally biting back to him? Is that what he wants?”

“No! No, no, no,” you reply quickly, shaking your head. “Just laugh along with him, maybe a quick quip back every once in a while to catch him off guard if you can think of one, but not too many. He’ll just get offended. You know how dads - Fuck,” you slam the heel of your hand into your eye. “You - yeah, sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s quite alright,” Ralph reassures with a small smile. “It’s actually quite refreshing to see parental figures who are… So invested in their child’s goings-on.”

You give him a quick hug. “If it’s too much, just excuse yourself and shoot me a text and I’ll be right up with you, okay?”

Ralph nods. “I should be alright, but thank you for your concern nonetheless.” His smile is faltering, but he’s trying to keep it up.

Once you’ve both washed everything up from dinner, you go to take both your bag and his up to the bedroom, but Ralph soon chases after you to take his own. “I can take it if you want,” you assure him, but he shakes his head. “You scared to be left alone with my parents?” you ask, amused, and he shakes his head again. You narrow your eyes. “Are you lying?” Ralph hesitates before shaking his head again, and you giggle.

Bag in tow, Ralph hurriedly makes his way halfway up the stairs before stopping and leaning over the railing to look down at you with a frown. “I am going the right way, aren’t I? Only you don’t seem to be following me.”

“No, no,” you stay stood there, crossing your arms and smirking with a sarcastic smugness. “You clearly know exactly where you’re going, don’t let me stop you!”

Ralph meekly makes his way back down the stairs to you, and you grin wickedly, “Why’d you come down for?”

“W-Well, because you sai- Excuse you!” Ralph exclaims as you rush past him and run up the stairs, laughing maniacally. Ralph sighs wistfully. If you were his, he would chase you up the stairs and into your bedroom until he could wrap his arms around you and tackle you onto your bed. He would tickle you mercilessly until you relent, both of you breathless and grinning and mere inches away until he would kiss you, and then you’d kiss him back, and then he’d kiss you back, and -

“Oi! Ralph! You coming up, or what?” Your voice from the top of the stairs pulls him back to reality with an almighty thud.

“Y- Uh, coming!” he calls up, running up the stairs to meet you. “So I really was right?”

“You ought to believe in yourself more, Ralphie boy,” you tease. “But also, yeah, you might have ended up sharing a bed with my parents instead,” you giggle before leading him into your childhood bedroom. 

It’s no longer quite your childhood bedroom - the posters of boybands are thankfully stripped from your walls, most of your old toys have either been collecting dust in the loft or given new homes by now, and there’s a desk that takes up most of the room now even without the added fold-out bed. But it’s unmistakably yours. 

Ralph takes out a plush toy that’s certainly seen better days and smiles fondly at it. “You did say you liked monkeys,” he notes, holding it up towards you.

You take it out of his hands and look at it affectionately, “Yeah! This was one of my first ever toys. Man, we’ve been through some stuff together.”

“Is that so?” Ralph moves from sitting on the fold-out bed to sitting next to you on your one. “I can’t particularly imagine you being the type to parade around a comfort toy.”

“I mean, not now, obviously! But as a kid, we were inseparable.” You tell Ralph stories from throughout your childhood, both from your own memory and ones recited by your parents. He listens attentively as you ramble on, so deep into your storytelling and pointing out other things in your room to help accentuate the story that you can’t see the adoration in Ralph’s eyes as he revels in hearing you speak.

Ralph can tell that he’s doing it. He knows he’s playing a dangerous game. Perhaps he can let his guard down a little, surely. After all, he knows that he’s not exactly on borrowed time anymore. Perhaps he could allow himself the luxury of assuming that the only barrier between friendship and more with you, is simply that you don’t know. 

Not yet, he reminds himself. There’s still some work to be done. He manages to regain his composure in time for you to look back at him. “Ugh, but you don’t want to hear me keep on about all of this.”

“No, actually, I’ve rather enjoyed it,” Ralph blurts out, and you hide your face so that Ralph doesn’t see you blushing at such a simple comment. 

Your parents call the two of you downstairs and you squeal, gently slapping down on Ralph’s thigh as you clamber off of the bed. “C’mon! It’s time!”

“Time for what?” Ralph frowns, trying desperately to ignore the warmth that lingers from your touch.

“All the real Christmas traditions to start!” you beam from the doorway.

“Ah, then I’ll simply be intruding on your family. I’ll be just fine waiting up here for you all, I shan’t interrupt,” he nods meekly, but you furrow your brow at him.

“You’re included too, idiot,” you grin affectionately, “now come on!” You wave him out of the door with you and he follows, dumbfounded.

You join your parents in the living room, sitting on the floor by the tree. You pat the spot next to you for Ralph to sit, too, which he does, crossing his legs as he gets comfortable. “What is all of this about?” he asks. “Why are all of the presents tucked behind the tree?”

“We get those out later, so they don’t get confused with these,” you point out the two gifts in front of you. Ralph studies them both, perplexed, and so you explain, “These are our Christmas Eve boxes!”

“Wh- what is a - I didn’t prepare for this,” he mutters to you, looking upset.

“Oh, don’t be! This isn’t an everyone tradition, it’s just something Mum and Dad always did for me, and any friends that’d come over for Christmas Eve,” you shrug. “That includes you!”

Ralph wells up, “I - I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s nothing, really,” your mum waves off. “It’s just some silly things we put together for the night ahead. Gets us all into the Christmas spirit, you know?”

You nudge Ralph’s box towards him and grin. “Ready to open?”

Ralph kicks his knees up and down excitedly, “Yes! Oh,” he stops himself immediately, “but you should go first.”

“We can open them together, you big silly,” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly before placing your hands ready to rip at your gift and looking at Ralph expectantly. He nods, and you both open your boxes at the same time.

As always, there’s a set of Christmassy pyjamas, some fluffy socks, a small packet of hot chocolate along with various toppings and various snacks. Ralph has identical contents. You beam up at your parents, “It’s a movie night this year!” You quickly explain to Ralph that your parents either plan Christmas Eve night to be a movie night, game night or some other activity that they provide the necessities for in your Christmas Eve boxes.

“Yeah, well,” your dad shrugs, “we didn’t want to subject Ralph to a family game night just yet.”

“Yeah, we want him to like us, first!” your mum laughs, and Ralph’s face lights up.

“Oh, please, rest assured, Mrs -”

“Oi!” she interrupts, and Ralph’s face falls again, but she softens immediately. “No formalities here, alright? We’re family here.”

He’s family. Ralph once again battles the urge to cry as he simply states with a smile, “Right, well, there’s certainly no chance of me being anything but eternally grateful for your generosity.”

“Now why can’t you be more like him, eh?” your dad asks jokingly. “How come we get all the sass?”

“Because I was raised by you,” you point out with a smirk, and your dad barks out a loud laugh, ruffling your hair as he does so.

“Go on, away with you both, get yourselves ready!” he ushers you both away and you scoop your box up in your arms as you get up. Ralph does the same, and you tell him to get changed in the bedroom while you go into the bathroom. You meet back in the hallway, and instinctively hold your cheeks at the sight in front of you. Whether it’s the delusion the two of you wearing matching outfits creates, or just the sight of how adorable Ralph looks while drowning in fleece, you frantically regain yourself long enough to take a photo in the big mirror on the wall to send to the group chat before leading Ralph to the kitchen to prepare your snacks.

You make up the hot chocolate for the pair of you while Ralph has the simple task of pouring sweets and snacks into corresponding bowls. Once he’s done, and placed them out in the living room, he returns looking quite proud of himself. “Alright, ready to top off your drink?” You ask as you grab the can of whipped cream out of the fridge, shaking it and squirting a dollop into your mouth for good measure. You point the can at Ralph, who looks at you quizzically before opening his mouth out of curiosity. You give him a mouthful, too, which he tastes with delight spreading over his face. You mirror him. “It’s good, innit?” He nods excitedly and you wave him over to where your two mugs sit. “Okay, so you wanna get it at the right angle, you want it on the drink, but you don’t want it to blow the stuff out of the mug. Got it?” Ralph watches you with great intent, nodding slowly, and you hand the can over to him. “Now you try!”

You really should be utilising the time making sure Ralph gets his aim right, or at least by adding the rest of your favourite toppings, but instead you’re having to spend it restraining yourself from thinking all kinds of thoughts about the way Ralph’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates, especially when it moves around with the nozzle.

It’s only when you notice the pile of whipped cream looking especially tall that you finally grab his wrist with a giggle. He breaks his trance to look over at his compared to yours, and he ends up laughing as well. “Oh, drat, I’ve rather overdone it, haven’t I?”

“Just a little,” you laugh before grabbing your favourite toppings and adding them to your drink.

Your parents laugh when they see the state of your drinks as you and Ralph sit on the sofa together, and you quickly look over to make sure Ralph isn’t offended by it, already planning on your damage control spiel, but he seems to have… Accepted that they aren’t laughing unkindly at him. Your heart swells at the thought that he feels just at home with your family as he does with your friends. If only you could all keep him around all the time.

Despite you being the one to pick out your favourite Christmas movie to show Ralph, it’s hard to concentrate on it when he’s grazing at his whipped cream like a baby cow to grass, especially when some of it gets caught on his nose. You stifle a laugh at that, but he hears and looks over at you in confusion. You swipe it away with your thumb, then suck at your thumb to get it off of yourself as you turn back to watch the movie. Ralph is grateful both that you decided to look away, and that the room is so dimly lit, though his ears burn so harshly they could well be glowing regardless.

You’re not certain how far you made it into the movie before you drifted off to sleep, but you definitely don’t remember being leant against Ralph with a blanket over you at the time, despite that being how you wake up now. As you stir, you jump up suddenly, which alarms Ralph, too. You notice your parents are no longer in the room. “Ah, finally, I was going to, um, perhaps try and wake you myself so that you weren’t down here all night,” Ralph explains.

“Too used to sleeping on sofas these days,” you smile sleepily, and Ralph chuckles under his breath. “How come you’re still here?”

“Well, I’m at the end of the seat, so you would have just… You know…” Ralph mimics the motion of you falling flat onto the couch cushion with his hand, making you giggle. “Can’t have that. I, um, pulled the blanket over from the back of the seat, too. I hope that’s okay with your parents.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Blankets are for sleeping under.”

“Yes, but… I didn’t know if it was just there for decoration,” he explains.

You shake your head. “Ralph, mate, we’re not rich enough to have decorative shit and purposeful shit. It’s all… Shit,” you shrug with a laugh. You flash your phone up to check the time, “Ooh, it’s almost midnight, we’d better go upstairs before Santa gets down here!”

“You know he isn-” Ralph cuts himself off and starts again, softer this time. “You really do get into the whole Christmas thing, don’t you?”

You shrug as you both climb the stairs, “It’s all about spending time with loved ones and showing each other you care.” Loved ones. Loved. Ralph has to squeeze his thumbs to make sure he doesn’t visibly show any kind of reaction to those words.

You clamber into your old bed, and Ralph does so into his little camping bed for the night. “Goodnight,” he calls. “Pleasant dreams.”

“You too, Ralphie.”

The next morning, you wake up super early, as per usual for you. No matter how old you get, the excitement of Christmas morning never leaves you. You happily text all of your friends a Merry Christmas and catch up on some social media posts, silently reminding yourself to make sure you get a good photo of Ralph later for his.

He stirs not long after you, looking up at you and smiling sleepily. “I guessed you’d wake early. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” you grin. “Ugh, yeah, but now Mum and Dad insist on having a “lie-in” and having “breakfast first”,” you make air quotes with your fingers and roll your eyes. 

“Well, if you wanted to exchange some gifts early, I could, um… Well… There’s one that I can give and another that’s… Sort of… More abstract,” Ralph stammers, looking and feeling around for his bag.

“Calm it, Ralph, it’s okay. Here, can I give you mine first, and then you can figure out all the… Logistics of yours?” You gesture around with your hands, and he nods. 

You take his present out of your bag and hand it to him, and he immediately frowns. “This looks big. Little on the heavy side, too.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you smirk.

“Well, I should rather hope you didn’t spend too much on me, since you’ve already done more than eno- Oh, heavens!” Ralph exclaims as he reveals his present. “Is this -” You nod with a grin, and he gasps. “But, how could you - I mentioned seeing it one time when we met up for lunch that day weeks ago, I - This must have cost a small fortune -”

“Hey, having other friends in the same industry helps. I got it for cheaper than you’d have seen it for, if that makes you feel better accepting it.”

“I should very much like to try it on, but perhaps while wearing something a little more… Dignified,” he says softly as he admires the coat you’d picked out for him. “Anyway!” He folds it very, very carefully and then protrudes his ukulele from his bag, plucking at strings to make sure it’s still in tune.

You gasp excitedly, “Ralph, did you write me a song?”

“Oh, heavens, no, I could never write a song worthy of all you have done for me!” He shakes his head violently. “No, but, well… I know we’ve sort of… Never really spoken about, about that weekend that we were away, but I knew that I would only say the wrong things, and… And on the drive back, Anna had told me that sometimes songs exist to put words to things that you can’t do yourself, and so… I mean, of course, not all of the lyrics, pertain, but enough of them say what I want them to… Oh, fiddlesticks, I’m rambling now…”

You cock your head to look at him with a humoured grin. “Ralph… Can I guess who the original singer of whatever you’re about to sing is?”

His ears tint pink. “Can I just… Play it, please?” he asks nervously.

You nod sincerely. “Of course. The stage is yours.”

Ralph starts playing a song you recognise as Afterglow by, of course, Taylor Swift. You’ve heard the song on occasion, but coming from Ralph, with nothing but his strings accompanying him, the lyrics really start to hit close to home. “I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue / Put you in jail for something you didn't do” … “It's all me in my head, I'm the one who burned us down, but it's not what I meant, sorry that I hurt you / I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you / I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you” … “I lived like an island, punished you with silence / Went off like sirens, just crying”

Other lyrics sound an absolute delight in Ralph’s voice. If it weren’t for his little disclaimer that not all of the words echoed his thoughts, you could have convinced yourself he was singing to you. “Why'd I have to break what I love so much?” … “Just wanna lift you up and not let you go / This ultraviolet morning light below / Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh” … “Tell me that you're still mine / Tell me that we'll be just fine” … “Tell me that it's not my fault / Tell me that I'm all you want”

You’re moved close to tears by the time he finishes, but you still make sure you applaud him, in fear of making him think you feel anything less than an immense appreciation for him. “That was… Beautiful, Ralphie. Thank you,” you mutter quietly, trying to hold yourself together. “But… You know, you don’t need to shoulder all of the blame for that night, right? I was bang out of order, too, it was just a lot of built-up stress and - and alcohol, and -” You shake your head. “Anyway. Those words are… So sweet. Too sweet. It wasn’t all you. And look! We didn’t lose anything, right? And we’re not gonna.” The last part catches in your throat. You are gonna lose him, eventually. Whenever Homeless Pete informs you of your doomed fate. You instead pull Ralph in for a hug to show your gratitude.

Ralph can see something bothers you about the words that you’ve said. Now is the time, he tells himself, giving himself a little pep talk. Now he can tell you all about what happened, why he went ‘missing’ that weekend. He can tell you that he’s here to stay, as long as you want him to. 

But instead he watches you push him out of the hug, hold him at arms’ length and shake your head. “No, that’s it, I’m not getting any more upset or else I’ll get your nice new PJs all snotty. From now on, that weekend is a banned topic of conversation. We’ve both said our piece, now. There’s no need to revisit it. Deal?” You hold your pinky out at him.

Defeatedly, he links his little finger with yours. “A promise,” he says with a nod, before realising. “Oh, heavens! There’s another part to your gift, isn’t there!”

You frown, “Mate, you’ve only had one paycheck so far, I hope you haven’t blown it all on me!”

“Not all of it, um… This is more of a… Well, I spent more in effort than I did in money, let’s put it that way.” He leans down to pick up a small parcel that now rests on the fold-out bed, that you open to find a small binder. About the size of your palm, but longer. You start to flip through the coloured slips of card kept in the plastic wallets of the binder. This coupon entitles you to: a night out at that jazz club we liked. “Apologies,” Ralph pipes up, reading over your shoulder to see which one you’re looking at, “I forgot the name of the club itself. But you know where I mean. They’re all colour-coded, so the purple ones mean ones where we go out somewhere, blue means I do something around the house - something big, mind you, we share the jobs, I haven’t forgotten - green are to do with yo- our friends, yellow are…” He scrunches his face up as he tries to remember, “Oh! Yellow is for more fun things to do that don’t cost much, orange ones are ones that have a time limit on them, and red, well… Red are… I’m not sure how to explain them."

You thumb through the binder. This coupon entitles you to: one three-course meal cooked by me* *My cooking will be fully supervised by a separate third party. This coupon entitles you to: a full-group picnic that I will facilitate. This coupon entitles you to: a phone-free movie marathon evening. This coupon entitles you to: Exactly three days’ access to that blue jumper you like so much. 

You bark out a laugh at that last one, “Only three days at a time?!”

Ralph pulls a face, “Be thankful you’re getting any days without guaranteed complaint!”

“True,” you nod in acceptance. You flip to the first red coupon and your heart sinks. This coupon entitles you to: kick me out of the flat for a whole day. “Ralph…” you state quietly, sadly.

“Yes, well…” Ralph’s voice is stilted, too. “I know that I’m an awful lot to be around, and I’m not saying that for pity’s sake! But if you ever need a day all to yourself, you can just… Hand me one of those, and I’ll find something to do with myself instead.”

You look through all the red slips. Several entitle you to a Ralph-free day, as well as switching you both between the sofa and then bed for a period of time left blank for you to determine. Another few simply state that they entitle you to tell Ralph to stop talking. “Why would I want that from you?” you ask softly, showing him that coupon specifically.

He shrugs, “Well… If I’m prying too much, say, into things that are too personal, instead of arguing again, you can just give me this and I’ll have received the message, loud and clear.”

You nod slowly, and Ralph’s eyes widen as you start taking out red slip after red slip. You look him dead in the eye and say, “I respect the time and effort you put into these, but,” you grab a handful of them and rip them in half, “you’re gonna have to think of a new thing for reds to be. Sorry.” You keep ripping them up until there is no more entitlement to suppress Ralph being Ralph. “I do love all of the others, though. Really. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Once again feeling the urge to cry, you hug him again. This time, it’s tighter. It’s warmer. It doesn’t seem to have an end.

Until you finally hear your parents call you down for breakfast.

After you’ve all eaten, and you and Ralph have cleared up the kitchen for your parents, you make your way to the tree, where your parents have sorted out three small piles. Ralph looks perplexed at the small box left over. “You seem to have forgotten one, should I put it with - Oh,” his eyes widen as he picks it up and reads the words To Ralph written on the label. Looking up at your parents, he shakes his head. “Oh, p- please, you and your family have already shown me far too much generosity, and I haven’t got a single thing to share with you -”

Your dad waves him off, “We’ve heard that you’ve been in a bad spot up until now, and just thought you deserve a little something nice to see the year off with.”

“Why don’t you start us off, dear?” your mum encourages him to unwrap his gift, and he does so tenderly, looking agape at the box as it’s revealed.

“Oh, wow, what a beautifully packaged - Well, that smells delightful!” he chirps as he takes a small bottle out from the box.

You look at your parents incredulously. “So, when I’d known you for all eight years of my life at the time, and I asked you lot for a Furby, you got me some cheap knockoff from the market that was definitely possessed by the devil since it wouldn’t shut up even after we took the batteries out, but you know Ralph for five minutes and you give him -” You glance over at the bottle filled with a viscous purple liquid to read the label and then look back at them - “Dior soap?!”

“Well, yeah, we like him better,” your dad teases, laughing loudly.

“We just… Have a bit more money these days, and like you said to us, he deserves to be spoiled a little after the time he’s had,” your mum simpers.

“Yeah, well, next year I want my Furby,” you grin, taking the bottle from Ralph’s hands and smelling the lid. “Oh my god, that smells amazing!”

“Doesn’t it, though!” your mum chirps. “And, get this, the main reason we bought it was because we saw the photos of him that you’d sent us, and the man on the adverts for that particular scent -”

Your dad interrupts her with a groan, rolling his eyes. “Here we go again, you know what your mother’s like for her lookalikes.”

“What do you mean!” Your mum frowns at him. “He did look like Ralph!”

“You expect me to trust the same person who thinks Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Gosling look identical?” You raise your eyebrows at her, and she frowns.

“They’re very easy to mix up!” she defends.

Once presents are open, it’s time for your favourite part of the day. You’re not sure what brought on your insistence on this tradition, but you’d warned Ralph ahead of time, and he’d gone on a little shopping spree with Scott to pick out his “fancy outfit” that has been the dress code for your family Christmas dinner for as long as you can remember, now.

Once again, you opt for the bathroom as your changing room of choice, and tell Ralph to meet in the hallway when you’re both ready. Feeling confident that you’re looking especially ready for the family photos this year, and excited for Ralph to be included in them, nothing could prepare you for what he’s dressed in.

You rack your brain trying to remember a time when you’d ever told Scott of the ideal outfit you’d always imagined your ideal partner wearing whenever you’d envisioned these fancy family dinners. Because here Ralph is, in a powder-blue dress shirt with just a few buttons undone, underneath a brown striped sweater vest paired with brown corduroys. His now-classic neck chain and rings adorn him. You try not to let your jaw hit the floor as you see him looking… Absolutely everything you’d spent your life imagining your perfect partner would look like.

“My goodness, you look… Radiant,” he gushes to you.

“Thank you! You’re looking especially handsome yourself,” you allow yourself that compliment to him. It’s a perfectly normal thing to say to your friends. You’d say it to any of yours. Definitely. Justifying yourself to your internal monologue is a completely normal thing to do.

You take some photos of him for his Instagram, though only one makes it:

The family dinner is as amazing as always. Ralph finally looks at ease around your parents as everyone compares Christmas cracker jokes, and your parents regale stories of past Christmases with you to him, to Ralph’s delight.

It seems such a shame to have to leave this little bubble, but unfortunately, the real world awaits. As does the next week of Pure Retail Hell that is the Boxing Day sales. You leave shortly after dinner so as to get plenty of rest in tonight. 

Ralph gasps with delight as he realises, “I can wear my new coat with an outfit this nice!” Just when you thought the outfit was enough to see you off, it being topped off with the long, tan coat you’d bought him makes you want to grab it by the lapels, push him against the wall and kiss him until his brain short-circuits.

Instead, you focus on one particular feature of it, “Oh my god, it’s so swishy!”

Ralph looks at you, perplexed. “Swishy?!”

“Yeah! Like, look, go like this,” you rock yourself from side to side, mimicking the motion you’re expecting the coat to make with your hands. Ralph copies you, and positively giggles as he watches the swishing in motion.

“Look at it go!” He practically twirls himself around your parents’ hallway as you say your goodbyes.

“Keep hold of that one,” your mum says into your ear as she hugs you. “He’s a good’un.”

Your dad echoes a similar sentiment of, “Well, I don’t hate him.”

~~~

The next week is a blur of non-stop sales, returns, and most of all, Karens. You’re relieved to finally get a day off on the 31st, which is when you and your friends have decided to celebrate your own Christmas together. 

Ralph insists that he will give everyone their own gifts as soon as he can afford to, to which everyone waves him off. “You’ve given me the gift of being able to yell about Taylor Swift to someone who has no idea what I’m on about. That’s all I’ll ever need,” Anna grins at him, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, and now I’ve got a new best mate to jam out with!” Connor nudges Ralph with his elbow. “Your uke’s just the beginning, wait until I teach you the guitar, and then, oh! We’ll be unstoppable, you and me!”

“Yeah, where would any of us be without our Ralphie, eh?” Grace asks, simpering at him.

“So, with all that being said…” Scott protrudes a final gift and hands it to Ralph. “We all clubbed together to get you something from all of us.”

“Not again!” Ralph wells up, looking at you sadly, but you grin.

“Go on, then! Open it!” you encourage him, and once again a familiar box appears beneath the wrapping paper.

“Oh! This is just like the soap your parents bought me, isn’t it?” Ralph asks, and you study the box.

“Yeah, but this is an actual aftershave, so you can smell like it even more now!” you explain.

“Aww, no more lemony Ralph,” Grace mutters sadly as Connor realises something.

“Did your parents happen to suggest that one because they thought the guy advertising it looked familiar?” Connor asks with a wicked grin, leaning towards Anna, whose face falls.

“Oh no, please don’t tell me your mum and I both thought the same person looked like the same person,” she groans, and you laugh.

“Don’t you think that Harry Potter kid was so good as Frodo in Lord of the Rings?” Connor teases in an impression of your mum, and the whole group laughs.

“Okay, in Mum’s defence, that’s one of her better comparisons,” you comment.

Anna frowns as she spots something poking out from underneath your kitchen counter. She goes to investigate and her curiosity becomes absolute glee as she protrudes the fake mistletoe from where you’d forgotten to pick it up and tidy it up. “What’s this doing here, then?!”

“Piss off,” you laugh, chasing her around the flat trying to take it from her, but she passes it onto Connor who brandishes it proudly.

“Ooh, I was wondering why this wasn’t in its usual spot! Who’ve you been smooching, hmm?” He waves it in your face as you approach him to snatch it out of his hand.

“Nobody! That’s why it’s been forgotten down there!” you frown.

“Yes, I think that’s rather my doing, I… I picked it up and then learned what it’s used for and I didn’t want anything… Presumptuous to occur,” Ralph admits, faltering as the sentence goes on. You don’t see the looks your friends all give each other as you frantically put it away in the first drawer you can find and usher them out.

“Okay, okay, this isn’t getting all the food and drink ready for later before all the shops shut, now, is it?”

As the day turns into night, you and Ralph get ready to celebrate at Connor’s. His place is the biggest, after all, and his housemates are all braving the bars of London on New Year’s Eve. You and your friends are all happy enough just bringing various platters of food and drinks each and ringing the new year in together.

Ralph insists on wearing his Christmas outfit again, much to your own dismay. You’ve already been ribbed enough by your friends over a simple plastic decoration, if they spot any sign of you showing any kind of genuine affection for Ralph then it’s all over. They’d want to play wingman, and you’d have to admit that you can’t pursue him. You’d have to tell them why, and admit that you’ve been lying to them for almost four months. 

When you do show up at Connor’s, everyone’s obviously obsessed with Ralph’s outfit. Scott constantly makes sure some of the praise is returned back to him for choosing the clothes. You keep yourself busy while Ralph’s the main topic of conversation by organising all the food that everyone’s brought.

Several hours, several plates of food and several drinks later, the TV’s on with 10 minutes to go until midnight. Once you excuse yourself to the bathroom before the big countdown, everyone else nods to each other, setting their own plan in action. Connor and Grace each take a spot either side of Ralph, grinning as they simultaneously stretch out a, “Heeeey.”

“Hello,” Ralph looks at them both, confused.

“So, don’t know if you know this, what with you being all… Shut off from the modern world or whatever you had going on,” Connor starts. “But… There’s this sort of… Tradition when it comes to New Year's.”

“Of course, you kiss your loved ones. I’m not completely out of touch, we had that one growing up as well,” Ralph admits with amusement.

“Right, but obviously not all of us are loved up, see,” Connor continues.

“So, those that aren’t, can still get in on it, because obviously it’s bad luck for the whole year if you don’t get kissed at midnight,” Grace manages to keep a straight face as she lies to Ralph. “And we’re really superstitious here.”

“Y- You are?” He asks, his eyes darting between the two nervously.

“Yeah, but it’s easily avoided,” Grace wraps her arms around one of Ralph’s. “If you’re single, and it’s midnight, you just kiss the closest single person to you,” she looks up at him hopefully.

Ralph feels his mouth go dry. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. And flattered as I may be, mate, I don’t think it’s gonna be me,” Connor laughs.

“Right. Well, I appreciate you for keeping me in the loop,” Ralph nods, and the pair return the gesture, smiling coyly at each other before running off.

Two minutes to go. Everyone that’s brought a date is actively chatting away to them. Ralph is standing by the wall, anxiously looking around. You make yourself busy by making yourself another drink, and Scott notices, peeling himself away to quickly jog over to you. “Hey, uh, I think Ralph was looking for you.”

You frown, “Is he alright? He’s not gotten drunk already?”

“No! He won’t say what’s up, you know what he’s like, he’s in one of those where he doesn’t want to call for you, but we can all tell he wants something. Y’know? And you know him better than anyone. Better hurry it up, though,” Scott adds with a slight grimace before running back to his partner.

It takes a moment to find him, skulking in the outskirts of the room. He doesn’t even notice you approach until you nudge his arm. “You alright?” you ask him, and he looks at you like a deer in headlights.

“Um… Uh… Well, yes, but rather… Oh…” He flounders as everyone starts chanting a countdown from 10. Ralph licks his lips, his eyes flicking down to yours before quickly snapping back up to gauge your reaction nervously.

It almost seems too perfect. He smells of his new aftershave, all woody and floral but still that classic citrus note remains. He’s wearing that outfit. His big brown eyes are almost enough distraction from the way the tip of his tongue pokes out to trace his lips, but not quite enough. You feel your breath getting heavier as the sound of your friends shouting drowns every other thought in your head.

“- 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 –!”

A/N: I know. I'm the worst. Happy New Year, babies. ;)

next chapter

[thisismysecondrodeo]

It has been super cold outside, so naturally I’ve been thinking about Ted warming Y/N up after they come in from outside (absolutely freezing). He seems like the kind of guy to have a lot of body warmth 🔥

AN: Accidentally timed this fic perfectly for a US cold front lol so I am feeling it myself right now (unusual for me since I’m in Texas lol)

Rating: General

Tags: winter themed, Cold Weather, Established Relationship, Christmas, Fluff, Warm Blooded Boyfriend, Cold Blooded Girlfriend, Cuddling & Snuggling

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Winter had always been a magical time for you, specifically because you grew up in a place that never really snowed. Ted loved seeing winter in Richmond through your eyes and Henry’s—he had been taken by the festive town himself and was pleased to share it with his loved ones. 

But of course, because you didn’t grow up with the bitter cold it seemed to sneak under your clothes and into your bones more than either of your two boys. For you, winter was best enjoyed from your perch in the window seat, sipping hot chocolate with Henry and wearing one of Ted’s stolen hoodies. When out and about, Ted always seemed to have a spare set of gloves in his pocket or an extra scarf for you and you always appreciated it, never wanting to make a big deal about being chilly; but for a man consistently wearing too many layers all year round, you were surprised to find that at home in the winter he was a t-shirt and shorts guy, throwing off heat like a pot-bellied stove. He never complained when you snaked your icy fingers under his shirt, running your nails through the hair on his chest, and he often picked your feet up on the couch, tucking them under his thigh to warm them without a word. 

So you weren’t surprised when you returned home from Christmas shopping with Keeley to find Ted in a pair of gray sweats and a black Kansas City t-shirt, pulling a tray of cookies from the oven. Your nose was running slightly from walking up the block and you sniffled, as you stepped into the warm, sweet air of Ted’s kitchen. “Hey there, love,” you called out and Ted turned his attention to you with a grin. 

“Hey, yourself! How was shopping with Keels?” 

“Good! Got everything I needed for Henry and almost everything I needed for you.” You unwrapped your scarf and unzipped your jacket as Ted walked over to you, making a show of peeking into your shopping bags. You pinched his arm playfully and he shot up straight, looking at you doe-eyed and innocent. 

“Gosh darlin’ your hands are freezin’,” he said, taking your hand between his own and rubbing them gently to get the circulation going. 

“So’s the rest of me,” you sighed, enjoying the feeling of his warm hands on yours, “I love winter but I’m so tired of being cold.” Jason traded hands and you nearly melted into him. 

“Tell you what,” Ted said softly, stepping closer to you, “why don’t I help warm you up until I have to go pick up Henry from ice skating with Phoebe and Nora?” 

“Well, considering you’ve got,” you leaned around Ted to check the time while he slipped your scarf from your neck, “about 15 minutes this is either going to be less sexy than it sounds or the quickest quickie we’ve ever had.” 

Ted chuckled, hanging your scarf up and sliding your jacket from your shoulders. You shivered without the layer of warmth even though you were still wearing a long sleeve shirt under a thick sweater. “Considering I can’t imagine spending less than that between your legs, I’m thinking we’ll keep it PG.” 

You pouted but followed easily when he led you through to the bedroom. “Bump it up to PG-13 and you’ve got me.” 

“Deal,” Ted responded, surprising you by taking his own shirt off. “How about you take off those outside clothes and get in here with me.”

“Are you about to do skin-to-skin with me like a newborn baby,” you asked incredulously.

“...yes?”

You laughed and followed his lead, stripping down to your underwear quickly to cut down on shivering, before ducking under the covers where Ted was waiting with open arms. You released a trembling sigh as you fell into him and he tucked the blanket up to your neck before wrapping his arms around you tightly. He jumped slightly when your cold feet brushed against his calves and you backed off slightly. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, your cold nose buried in the warmth of his neck.

“No, no apologies. That’s what I’m here for darling.” Ted kissed your temple as he reached under the covers and pulled your leg back over his, rubbing his hand over your goosebumped skin. You didn’t intend to fall asleep but Ted’s skin was warm beneath yours and he started humming a little tune, his breathing slow and steady. 

When you woke up you could hear Henry and Ted giggling in the kitchen and you smiled as you stretched your arms above your head. You threw on a hoodie and a pair of Ted’s sweats from the closet, but something caught your eye: your shopping bags from earlier on the top shelf, a pink sticky note stuck to the front.

Didn’t peek :) 

You smiled, walking out into the kitchen to join the fun, dropping a kiss on the top of Henry’s head, still chilly from ice skating, a chocolate ring on his upper lip. 

“There she is!” Ted grinned at you, pressing a kiss into your cheek as he handed you a mug of cocoa. “Feelin’ warm?”

“Inside and out.”

[kookicat]

The Chocolate Job

Chocolate work has never been his favourite- it's messy and fiddly and most days he's just not in the mood for it. But sometimes, the urge strikes him, and he locks himself away in whatever kitchen space they have with a 5lb bag of Callebaut chocolate buttons and gives into the urge. Usually it's truffles, or brownies, but this time he has something else in mind. 

Breanna had shown him a clip of the Chocolate Man (that's what she called him, capital letters and all) on the Tik Tok and well, the idea of sculpting something hadn't left his brain, tucking away like a damn earworm until he'd given in. He's starting small, mostly so he can melt the results down and hide them in his triple chocolate brownies if it all goes to crap. 

The chocolate melts smoothly and he mixes in more buttons, checking the temp until it's tempered and will set crisp and shiny. It's almost Christmas and he's picked up a set of moulds that should produce a chocolate gingerbread house, if he's lucky. If not, he's a professional and will hide all the evidence until he can try again. 

He pours the chocolate slowly, to make sure there's no air bubbles to ruin the structural integrity, and leaves them to set while he whips up some cookies to fill the inside. They're chocolate too, because he might as well stick with the theme. The dough comes together smoothly under his hands, and he lets his thoughts wander a little, now he's back on more familiar baking territory. 

Breanna is going to love this, he thinks, hands automatically patting the dough into a disk to be chilled. Unless Parker steals it first. Maybe I should make two. He snorts, and dumps the dough into the freezer, then raids the candy cupboard for decorations. There's stuff in every colour and form and he sifts through the packages until he finds one that catches his eye. They're Christmas m&m's, in bright green and red, and he lifts the bag down, popping a couple in his mouth before he dumps the rest in a bowl. Gotta have some quality control, he thinks and sneaks another before washing his hands. 

The stainless steel counter is chilly, and the chocolate house parts have set up nicely. He pops them free, carefully and lines them up on the counter while he grabs the cookie dough from the freezer and cuts rounds out of it. They go on a baking sheet, topped with just a touch of flaky salt, before he slides them into the oven. 

Now for the fiddly part, he thinks, half amused, because if someone had told him ten years ago he'd be building houses out of chocolate and enjoying it, he would have laughed in their face. And then got Hardison to find them a nice comfy padded room. It's not that he's grown more patient over the years, or at least he doesn't think so - it's more he can relax a little more now, because they're not the only ones doing the work. Though I'm still not sure Quinn will ever quite forgive me for dragging him into his, he thinks and grins, thinking of Quinn's last text. It had been borderline illegal in several states, but he'd picked up a couple of new curses, including one that had made Harry Wilson blush and Sophie cackle. 

He shakes his head and grabs the cake board he's using as a base, then fills a plastic piping bag with a tiny bit of melted chocolate to act as glue. Huh, that worked, he thinks as he picks up the first side and turns it towards the light. It's more detailed than he expected, with a brick pattern and detailing around the window. There's even ivy, trailing from where the roof will go and he has to admit that he's pretty impressed. He lays the first line of melted chocolate down and presses the section into place, blasting the whole lot with some freeze spray until he's convinced it isn't going to move. 

It's a tiny bit crooked, but he's satisfied that at least it isn't going to fall over. The timer pings for the cookies and he pulls them out, leaving them to cool before returning to his construction job. Getting the second side in place is harder, because the corner doesn't want to meet perfectly but through a combination of melted chocolate glue and freeze spray, he gets it to stay in place. The third side is easier, somehow, but he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth and moves onto the last side. It's the most difficult yet, because he has to fit it between the two other sides without knocking them down. 

His hands and wrist are starting to feel strain and he pauses, flexing his hands until the discomfort passes and he can try again. This time, he gets the end into place, and feels like he has to twist himself into a pretzel to apply the chocolate glue and freeze spray. It stays, and it feels pretty solid when he pokes it carefully with one finger. 

The cookies have cooled- thank you, air conditioning - and he idly munches on one as he carries the tray to the other worktop, stacking them inside the house before he examines the roof. The gable ends of the house are slanted, to give the roof it's pitch, and he's not exactly sure if the melted chocolate and freeze spray will be enough to lock the roof pieces into place, or if he needs something more structural. Well, only one way to find out, he thinks and gets to work. 

Thirty minutes later, he steps back to examine the finished product, feeling oddly proud and protective of his creation. It's not perfect, not like the masterpieces the chocolate dude makes, but it's standing and stable, which is better than he expected. He adds a couple more m&m's for decoration and picks the cake board up, heading towards the main room. 

Breanna is at her desk, watching a newsreel from a country that he's never visited. Well, officially, at least, he thinks, and sets the house down casually on the desk behind her. 

"Made you something," he says casually, like he has a hundred times before and drops down on the couch, where he can still see her reaction. 

"Thank you," she says, absently, attention still on the screen. They have a good team in the area, and they're on the job. "A whole plate of cookies?" she says, sounding a little perplexed. 

"What? No!" he says, and pulls his attention from her screens. "The house." 

"The house?" Breanna repeats, carefully, like he's lost his marbles. 

"Yes, kiddo," he says and stands, so he can see the desk. The pile of cookies, house less desk. "Damnit Parker!" he yells, and hears her laugh from one of the vents.

Breanna bites a cookie and snickers and after a second, he joins in with her. I guess I'll be building another house, he thinks.