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demigodsanswer · 2 days ago

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Percy was pretty good at getting gifts for Annabeth. She wasn’t that subtle about what she wanted. He was sure his wife wanted a dog. He was going to get her dream dog for Christmas. ~ Annabeth spent weeks subtly trying to get Percy to say what kinds of dogs he might like. Ever since they moved back to New York, and he’d once again left Mrs. O'Leary and Nope in New Rome, her husband had been a bit bummed out, staring wistfully at every dog they passed on the street. She was sure he’d love to get a puppy for Christmas. And she was going to get it for him.

Percy was pretty good at getting gifts for Annabeth. She wasn’t that subtle about what she wanted, and she’d sometimes just outright ask for something, or send him the link to the specific book, keyboard, and sweater she wanted.

So, he was sure his wife wanted a dog.

It was their first Christmas as a married couple. Fred (and Percy had to assume the gods, unless the Chase family was really this wealthy) had outright bought them a Brooklyn brownstone for their wedding. The upstairs had needed hefty renovations, but that was really part of the gift: it gave Annabeth a project. Where she found the time, Percy didn’t know. But the first floor was perfect for them while Annabeth redid the upstairs bathroom and bedrooms.

Now they had a dream home, a yard, and total freedom from landlord restrictions. And every night, Annabeth had a bevy of new cute dog videos to show him.

“Would you want to get a dog soon?” Percy asked, not bothering to be subtle.

She shrugged. “Could be nice to get one before we start having kids,” she said.

“A little practice,” Percy said with a smile, as if they hadn’t practiced plenty with Estelle for years.

“Would you want a big dog? Little dog?” Annabeth asked.

“I love a big dog, but in the city, something smaller might be better,” he said, hoping that was the right answer, or that it at least got her to tell him what breed she was thinning. But Annabeth just nodded.

“Maybe a hound dog? Or a beagle? Something medium-sized? We have a yard,” Annabeth said.

“A beagle would be cute,” Percy agreed.

“Would that be your dream dog?” Annabeth asked.

“Not sure I have a dream dog, but beagles are super cute,” he said. That was the honest truth. He thought they were pretty adorable, and they had big dog attitudes with small dog bodies. But this wasn't about his dream dog. It was about her dream dog. She was the one who'd wanted a dog ever since she'd left her doberman behind at age seven.

“What would your dream dog be, though?” Percy asked her.

“Oh, something big too, and that would be a good family dog. Maybe a lab or a collie,” she suggested.

When Annabeth fell asleep, Percy made a note in his phone, and then spent his lunch period looking up available shelter dogs. He had a few students who liked to hang out with him during lunch. One was a demigod, the other four were her mortal friends.

“You should find her a puppy,” Kaylee said as they scrolled through shelter websites. Most of the dogs were over five years old. “If it’s a baby test-run, a puppy will be better than an adult dog. And they’re so cute!”

Percy called Grover when school got out. “I need a puppy,” he said.

“Regular puppy or hellhound puppy?” Grover asked.

“Regular, family-friendly. For Annabeth. A lab or a collie or something,” Percy explained.

“I’ll ask around,” Grover promised. Plenty of satyrs volunteered in rescues and shelters, doling out long lectures about how animals were real investments, not just toys, to well-meaning parents hoping to surprise their kids Christmas morning.

“You’re the best, man,” Percy said.

Annabeth spent weeks subtly trying to get Percy to say what kinds of dogs he might like. Ever since they moved back to New York, and he’d once again left Mrs. O'Leary in New Rome, her husband had been a bit bummed out, staring wistfully at every dog they passed on the street.

She knew her husband would love a puppy for Christmas.

She knew she couldn’t get him another hellhound (she asked Nico), but what kind of regular dog would he want? A bernese mountain dog kind of looked like Mrs. O’Leary, and they were good with kids, but they didn’t live very long. Small dogs were practical for the city, but would Percy like something yappy?

“He likes you,” Clarisse said, as Annabeth recounted her woes.

“Hurtful,” Annabeth said back. “Look could you just … see if you can get him to give you an idea?” Clarisse taught in the classroom across the hall from Percy, turning their once antagonistic relationship into a genuine friendship and comical workplace rivalry.

“Why don’t you just ask?” Clarisse suggested.

“That would ruin the surprise,” Annabeth said.

“All I’m going to do is ask him,” she said back.

“However you want to do it is fine, just don’t tell him I’m getting him a dog,” Annabeth said.

Annabeth hated being wrong. And more than that, she hated Clarisse La Rue being right. Subtly wasn’t going to work. She needed to just ask. They were two weeks away from Christmas, and she was no closer to knowing what kind of dog Percy might want.

Thankfully, Percy had brought it up first, another one of his not-so-subtle hints that he wanted a dog: “Would you want to get a dog soon?” Percy asked.

Annabeth tried to play it cool. “Could be nice to get one before we start having kids.”

“A little practice,” Percy said with a smile.

It was finally time to just ask. “Would you want a big dog? Little dog?”

“I love a big dog, but in the city, something smaller might be better,” Percy said. Annabeth nodded, waiting a few seconds to see if he’d offer up a breed himself. He didn’t.

“Maybe a hound dog? Or a beagle? Something medium-sized? We have a yard,” Annabeth suggested. In her research, beagles were good family dogs, but not that big. Their barks weren’t yappy though, and they had a lot of energy. She could see Percy with a beagle. She'd like something a little bigger, personally, but he made a good point about the size. This was about his dream dog, not hers. He was the one who had to leave his dog behind in California.

“A beagle would be cute,” Percy agreed. She could tell from the wistful smile on his face that a beagle puppy would make him very happy.

The next day, she spent her lunch break looking for beagle puppies in New York. When that didn’t turn up many great results, she called Grover.

“I need a puppy. A beagle if you know anyone with a litter,” she said.

“ You need a puppy?” He asked.

“It’s for Percy,” she explained.

Grover paused. “Right, sure, okay. A beagle?”

“Yeah, or a hound dog, if that’s better,” she said.

“I’ll call you back if I find something,” Grover said.

A few hours later, he let her know he had a satyr friend in Queens who was fostering a litter. They’d be ready to go home right in time for Christmas.

“Your name’s on the list,” Grover said. “One of them is yours for sure, just get up there and see which one you want,” he said.

Annabeth picked out a little girl puppy in the end. She was barely three pounds, but she seemed to have all the energy in the world.

“Oh, you are going to steal all of my husband’s love and attention away from me, aren’t you?” she asked the puppy. It yapped at her, as if it say “without a doubt.”

“Oh, you are going to steal all of my wife’s love and attention away from me, aren’t you?” He asked the ten pound chocolate lab puppy. He was the runt of the litter, and given how quickly he’d stolen Percy’s heart, he was sure to steal Annabeth’s.

Hiding the little guy was going to be the hard part. His mom agreed to keep him at her place until they came over Christmas day, but he was worried about Estelle getting attached.

“Well, then you’re just going to have to come visit more if she does,” Sally said over the phone. As if he and Annabeth weren't there every Sunday for dinner.

“Thanks for watching her, Grover,” Annabeth said, dropping the puppy off at his small apartment. His current girlfriend was a rose bush in Central Park, so Grover had relocated to the city, taking up residence in Hell’s Kitchen. “I don’t know why Sally said she couldn’t take her,” she said.

“Probably just doesn’t want Estelle getting attached,” Grover suggested, keeping his attention on the puppy pattering around his apartment.

“I guess, but we see them every week. We could bring her with us,” Annabeth said about the puppy.

“Who knows,” was all Grover had to offer. “So I’ll bring her over when I come by for Christmas?”

“Yes, I’ll have you wait outside until I get Percy’s attention for the surprise,” she said.

“Good plan,” Grover said.

When his mom texted him we’re here Percy nearly sprinted out of the kitchen. Annabeth was fiddling with something in the living room as he walked by.

“Grover is walking up now,” she said, “go back to cooking, I can let him in,” she said.

“No, no, my mom just got here,” Percy said.

Annabeth looked at him confused. “Well, she and I have met. I can let her in too.”

“No, just …” he exhaled, “she has a gift for you, just close your eyes, and turn around.”

Annabeth did, obviously hesitant. “Okay,” she said, “but Grover has a present for you so if you see him … try not to see him.”

“Got it, wise girl,” Percy said, before opening the door.

He failed to not see Grover, and when Annabeth heard his chipper voice, she turned around.

Grover and his family were on the stoop. “The jig is up,” Sally said, stepping inside with the lab’s puppy carrier in her hand. She stepped into the living room and set it down as the puppy started barking.

“Merry Christmas, dude,” Grover said. Percy tried to get his head on straight. Because his mom had brought Annabeth’s puppy in already. So what was Grover holding?

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth said, kneeling at the carrier she was sure she didn't buy.

“You two are really perfect for each other,” Paul said with a laugh.

Annabeth opened the carrier and let the little chocolate lab puppy waddle his way out, before picking him up in her arms. “Hi baby,” she said. “Percy --”

She felt tears welling in her eyes, but before she could cry, she had to start laughing. Percy was on the other side of the living room, his new puppy in his arms.

“You all knew!” Annabeth said. “None of you said anything?” She was trying to sound angry, but it was no use pretending. She couldn’t be mad when she was holding a sweet little baby in her arms, one that Percy had so perfectly picked out for her.

Percy didn’t look angry either. He was holding up his beagle and letting her lick his nose.

“It was too cute,” Sally said. “It’ll be good practice in case you have twins.”

Annabeth shook her head. “Let’s not put that energy into the world.” She wanted kids, but one at a time would be ideal.

Her lab puppy got curious and wiggled his way out of her arms and towards the beagle puppy.

“You wanna say hi?” Percy asked it, placing his puppy down for them to sniff at each other. Within minutes, the two puppies were running around the living room, fast friends, and even faster holiday decoration destroyers. Not that Percy or Annabeth minded.

~ A year later ~

Percy called Max to him. The lab was staying close to Annabeth, who had, in a matter of seconds, gone from calling the dogs into the house, to throwing up in their vegetable garden.

Percy managed to get both dogs inside before either tried to eat what she’d thrown up. Nugget (full name, Chicken Nugget) was particularly food driven. They’d learned fast that beagles would simply eat until they exploded, with no cares about what they were eating. With both dogs out of the way, Percy pulled some water from a nearby puddle to wash most of the mess away.

“Morning sickness, my ass,” she complained. They’d learned quickly that it was not (a) limited to the morning and (b) not predictable at all. It was three in the afternoon; Annabeth had taken a half day and Percy hadn’t scheduled after-school activities to make it to this doctor’s appointment. Thankfully they were only walking a few blocks down the street. Annabeth had already thrown up on a fair number of subways in just two weeks.

“It’s a sign that the baby is healthy,” Percy said, rubbing her back.

“That’s because it’s stealing my health,” she complained. “Alright, I think it’s done for now. Let me just brush my teeth, and we can go.”

It was their first doctor’s appointment since the positive pregnancy test. They were hoping to see the baby and get some sonograms for the soon-to-be grandparents’ Christmas gifts in a week. Although Percy worried Annabeth’s spontaneous puking might give them away if his mom was around to see it. They’d managed to keep the secret so far. They could make it another week.

Annabeth couldn’t believe how fast she’d gotten pregnant once they started trying. Percy really must have had some strong swimmers. They were both so excited, overwhelmed with joy and both prone now to spontaneous crying, that it had swung back around to anxiety for Annabeth. The two weeks between the home test and this appointment had been filled with worry that something was wrong that she couldn’t know about.

“Everything is fine,” Percy promised, kissing her hand as they walked in.

“I’m telling you, something is … different,” she said. She knew he thought she was being a bit paranoid. How could she know what a normal pregnancy felt like, anyway. And for that matter, would a demigod pregnancy even be normal?

“We’ll always figure it out,” Percy offered as reassurance. She tried to trust him.

She was on the OB’s chair, her shirt pulled up as the OB squirted some cold goo onto her belly, barely bloated (and that might have just been holiday food).

The wub wub sound of the heart beat made Percy cry faster than she did, which she didn’t expect. Percy sat next to her, squeezing her hand as he sobbed. That made her cry more than anything. Annabeth let out a deep breath, and wiped the tears from her face as she looked at the screen, seeing mostly just wavy black lines.

“There’s your baby,” the OB said, pointing to a little peanut on the screen.

Percy, through his tears, cracked, “Aw, babe, it’s got your eyes.”

“Ope,” the OB said, moving the wand around.

“What?” Annabeth asked, as another peanut shape and additional wub wub appeared. “Oh no,” she said, covering her face with her free hand. She knew, she knew something was different about her pregnancy than Sally’s with Estelle, or Clarisse’s with her kids. She knew it. Sure, she was glad it wasn’t a bad thing, but --

“What?” Percy asked, trying to put together the images on the screen with the noise in the room.

“This is baby A,” their doctor said, pointing to the first blob they’d seen, before rolling the wand back over, “and this is baby B.”

“Two?” Percy asked, his eyes wide now.

“Two,” the doctor confirmed.

“I can’t believe this,” Annabeth said, finally turning to Percy. Leave it to him to mess with all of her best laid plans. They were going to have two babies at once. She tried to sound angry, but she ended up just smiling and laughing as she looked at him and announced: “This is your fault,” she said.

“Well,” the OB said, continuing the scan, “they’re fraternal. So there were two eggs, and two sperm. It was a team effort.”

“We are known for our teamwork,” Percy said with a grin.

“We are never going to make things easy for ourselves, are we?" Annabeth asked.

Percy leaned over to kiss her gently as the OB continued the scan. "We should be used to it by now."

#was going to go on a walk or maybe to the beach #but it was raining in socal today???#so instead have some new percabeth fic #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy jackon and the olympians #sally jackson #grover underwood #clarisse la rue

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atriza · 2 days ago

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Under the Mistletoe

Yandere Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: A festive holiday turns dark as Mark’s obsessive love becomes suffocating. What begins as sweet gestures spirals into dangerous possessiveness, culminating in a chilling discovery—a severed head among Christmas gifts—revealing the horrifying lengths Mark will go to keep his partner by his side.

Word Count: 1,190 words.

Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of obsession, possessiveness, emotional manipulation, graphic violence, and murder, which may be disturbing to some readers.

Snow fell in soft waves outside the frosted windows of your shared apartment, casting the room in a dreamy, wintry glow. Mark had insisted on decorating early this year, transforming the space into a Christmas wonderland weeks before the holiday. Twinkling lights wrapped around every available surface, a massive tree dominated the living room, and the scent of cinnamon and vanilla lingered in the air from candles burning on every table.

It should have felt magical. Cozy. Perfect. But instead, you couldn’t shake the unease bubbling in your chest.

Mark hummed softly as he finished tying a red ribbon around a present under the tree, his face lit with concentration. You sat curled up on the couch, your hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate he had made for you. He always took care of you, sometimes to the point of suffocation.

You loved Mark—his sweet smile, the way his touch was always warm, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. But lately, his love had grown overwhelming. Claustrophobic.

"Baby?" Mark’s soft voice broke through your thoughts.

You looked up to find him watching you, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You okay? You’ve been quiet."

"I’m fine," you said quickly, forcing a small smile.

He frowned, setting the gift aside and moving to sit beside you on the couch. His hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours like it was second nature. "You don’t have to lie to me," he murmured. "I can tell when something’s bothering you."

"It’s nothing," you assured him, squeezing his hand.

Mark studied you for a moment, his gaze so intense it made your heart race. Then he sighed, pulling you closer until your head rested against his shoulder. His other hand stroked your hair gently, soothing yet somehow possessive.

"You’ve been stressed," he said softly. "I don’t like seeing you like this."

You didn’t respond, not knowing how to explain the complicated tangle of emotions inside you. Mark loved you fiercely, obsessively, and while part of you reveled in his attention, another part of you felt trapped.

"I just want to make you happy," he continued, his voice almost a whisper. "Tell me what I can do to make it better. I’ll do anything for you, you know that."

"I know," you said, your voice barely audible.

Mark tilted your chin up, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. "You mean everything to me," he murmured. "More than anything else in this world. I hope you realize that."

You nodded, your throat tight. His words were sweet, but the intensity behind them left you feeling on edge.

---

The evening passed quietly. Mark insisted on making dinner, guiding you to the table and pulling out your chair with a smile. He served your favorite dishes, pouring you a glass of wine before sitting beside you. The conversation flowed easily at first, but it wasn’t long before Mark’s questions grew more pointed.

"So, who was that guy you were talking to at work the other day?" he asked casually, though his tone was anything but.

Your stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"

"You know who I mean," Mark said, his smile still in place but his eyes sharp. "The one who keeps hanging around you. I saw him walk you to your car the other night."

"It’s just a coworker," you said quickly. "He was being polite."

Mark’s smile faded, replaced by a look of thinly veiled frustration. "I don’t like him," he said flatly.

"There’s nothing to like or dislike," you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "We barely talk."

Mark reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His grip was firm, almost too tight. "I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea," he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You’re mine, and I don’t like sharing."

"I’m not going anywhere, Mark," you said gently, though your voice wavered.

His eyes softened at your words, and he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your fingers. "I know," he murmured. "But I can’t help worrying. You’re too important to me."

---

After dinner, Mark led you back to the living room, pulling you onto the couch and wrapping you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring sweet nothings as the fireplace crackled softly. For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, letting the warmth of his embrace chase away the unease.

"I have a surprise for you," Mark said suddenly, his voice filled with excitement.

He got up, disappearing into the bedroom before returning with a large box wrapped in shimmering gold paper. He set it on the coffee table, his smile wide and boyish as he gestured for you to open it.

"Mark, you didn’t have to—"

"Of course I did," he interrupted. "It’s Christmas."

You hesitated before unwrapping the gift. Inside was a beautiful sweater, soft and luxurious, in your favorite color. You smiled despite yourself, running your fingers over the fabric.

"Do you like it?" Mark asked eagerly.

"It’s perfect," you said honestly.

"There’s more," he said, pulling another box from behind his back. This one was smaller, wrapped in red paper.

You opened it carefully, revealing a delicate necklace with a heart-shaped pendant. Inside the heart was a tiny photograph of the two of you, smiling and happy.

"It’s beautiful," you whispered.

Mark took the necklace and fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing against your skin. "Now you’ll always have me close to your heart," he said softly.

Your throat tightened, the weight of his words settling heavily on your chest.

"And one last thing," Mark said, his tone darker now. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope.

You opened it slowly, your hands shaking. Inside were photos—of your coworker. The first showed him walking to his car. The next showed him slumped on the ground, blood staining his shirt.

Your breath caught. "Mark… what did you do?"

Mark crouched in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. His expression was calm, almost tender, but his eyes burned with something unhinged.

"I took care of it," he said simply, sitting beside you and pulling you close. His grip was firm, unyielding. "He was getting too close to you. I couldn’t let that happen."

"Mark, this isn’t—"

"Love," he interrupted, his voice steady but intense. "I love you more than anything, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at him. Mark’s face softened as he reached for the largest gift box under the tree, setting it on the table in front of you.

"This," he whispered, his voice low and calm, "is my final gift."

Your hands trembled as you unwrapped it. Inside, surrounded by red tissue paper, was something that made your breath catch in your throat—a severed head. It was your coworker, his lifeless eyes staring up at you.

Mark’s arms wrapped around you from behind, his breath warm against your ear. "Now no one will ever come between us," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

As the snow fell outside and the fire crackled, you realized that Mark’s love wasn’t just suffocating—it was inescapable.

---

#nct dream #nct mark #nct #nct 127 #yandere fic #yandere story #yandere stories #yandere #yanderenctdream #yandere nct #yandere mark #mark lee nct #mark lee #mark #markleenct

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twilight-spargle · 1 month ago

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psst! now is the perfect time to commission artists for christmas gifts for your loved ones (and help me buy gifts for my loved ones too)

#i know i haven’t been posting much but i’m still around :)#my comms are pretty cheap and i return comms in max a few days #so i’ll be available up to and through christmas #happy holidays! enjoy minty #mlp #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4 #spargle art #mlp minty #commissions open #mlp commissions

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void-tiger · 4 months ago

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Trying to keep a lid on it but. Yeah. Literally don’t know what’s it like to NOT be platonically neglected IRL my whole damn life, only that I know this One Person doesn’t deserve to be at the epicenter of it anymore than I deserved to have been at the epicenter of theirs a year ago now.

…why am I like this. Why are we like this.

#tiger’s roar #…but like. good god. someone being Actually Genuinely KIND and insisting they DO like my company and want my friendship #(and is arguably mutually attracted and THOSE feelings of mine and what I’m picking up from them just won’t DISPELL already)#just. really stirs the muck. gets at that emotional constipation in my brain’s grease trap #then having TWICE now having Activities Suggested and THIS Time in FRONT of people then like…never following through?#all but thinking aloud with planning to witnesses things that sound less like hanging out and more like a date #and then just��not doing it?#when the Reality is Apparently Too Busy?#us fighting earlier this year over quality time essentially #when all I want is to have like. maybe an hour or two once a week or once a month #to enjoy someone else’s company. get a fucking REPRIEVE from my life #that’s…that’s it? nothing grand. just have the time found where it can be without causing strain?#I’m actually NOT a romantic even when I have romantic feelings? they just make me yearn for basic contact all the more #I’ll always be ‘too platonic’ within a romantic relationship so no it’s never going to be an ‘expectation’#MAYBE the one with unrealistic expectations is the guy who watches romance films and struggles with AllorNothing thinking perhaps?#and…yeah. trying to not feel resentful of their time spent this summer with existing friends when apparently not working 20+ hrs a week #in addition to their own research and god knows what else #…because it feels like there’s no space for me. and probably never will be. and I have never been ‘cool’ a day in my life #sure I own it as an adult. especially a 30s adult.#but having people recognize me as kind and supportive and easy to talk to 1:1 (my group aqauaintance/casual friendships SUCK)#but. basically never getting to keep any of them as friends? quickly ditched? treated like a used bandaid?#it…gets to me alright? like I only exist as Catch/Treat/Release but for people #which sure. the friend I’m angry at HAS been frustrated about me deserving better. looks at me like I’m christmas.#and I’m now fairly close friends with their beloved sibling. and despite things having THE Worst Start Ever their family seems to trust me #…but…it’s just…think I deserve better? think I’m worthy of your esteem and respect? think I’m kind and approachable?#want me to feel safe and relaxed enough to be myself? then just…do better.#ask when I’m available to kill a few hours then…follow through on that. that’s it.#not all the time. and my ‘expectation’ is to always be either neglected or used and feeling jaded about it #just…a repreive. for both of us. that’s it.

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truelovepolinator · 7 days ago

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Nicola and Luke are ABSOLUTELY TOGETHER and have been all along and here’s how I know

(Friends, I’ve just finished this and it is INSANELY LONG. Like, two looong book chapters long. But I PROMISE it’s worth it. I was gonna cut it into multiple parts to make it more readable, but I’m going to be super busy over the next few days, so I wouldn’t have a chance to post subsequent parts until probably Christmas, so I’ve decided to drop it all now so I don’t delay the final victorious conclusion. Sorry, it’s so long, but I don’t really have time to rethink it and try to tell the story in a more concise way. Again, I think you’ll be glad you stuck with it if you want to feel as thoroughly confident as I am that Nic and Luke are absolutely together.)

(Also, I have to run now, but I'll come back to add relevant photos/videos as time allows. But I'm sure you're all familiar with them anyway.)

So I want to start by saying something I’m sure I’ll repeat. This is, of course, just my opinion and supposition based on the evidence available to me. But I also want to say, I am absolutely, positively sure now in a way I have never been. Genuinely not a doubt in my mind, and I think you’ll agree by the end of this.

It’s also worth noting that this may be nothing new to some of you. I’ve only been on this platform for a week and have barely scratched the surface of the great content here. So this is how *I* came to the final, joyful conclusion that everything is right with the world where lukola is concerned. I had long been sure they belonged together, but was afraid to embrace the theories about them actually being together now for fear of heartbreak, plus all the confusing signals about A & J, etc.

But all that changed a couple nights ago when I finally got the last piece of the puzzle I needed to see the big picture. There were just too many things that didn’t make sense, until they did! I literally couldn’t sleep that night (seriously only got about 2 hours) and then spent next day telling my husband the story for hours (in 20-30 minute increments as he could spare them during his slow, Christmas time work day).

My husband has been a patient, long-suffering skeptic through all of this. He’s put up with my rants and constant videos I just had to share, but he’s been completely convinced from day one that they simply leaned into their friendship to turn on faux relationship vibes for PR. He was absolutely sure it was all just make-believe for the fans. No matter what I showed him, he could not be convinced.

Until yesterday. Yes, I convinced the toughest skeptic in town.

I think it’s important to start with my journey into the Lukola fandom for context. I was a casual Bridgerton watcher until this season, and had never read the books. I liked season 1, I loved season 2, and I was looking forward to watching season 3.

I had planned to wait to watch the first 4 until the second half was about to launch (so I wouldn’t have to wait for more), but I realized after about a week that we needed to watch it immediately before everything was completely spoiled by timeline gifs and clips.

Needless to say, I was beyond hooked. Instantly. Season 3 was another level for all the reasons you all know. Finally I could engage safely with the fandom, but the process from occasional Polin/Lukola content to nonstop immersion took some time. So even following the second half, there was a TON of footage I hadn’t seen.

All of this to say, I basically missed all of the World Tour stuff as it was happening, and it took well into the summer to finally see so many amazing clips and edits that I was absolutely fucking sucked into the lukola wormhole. However, I was well behind many of you on the curve, and even to this day, I’m still catching up on things.

But by late summer, I was all in. I was sailing high on USS Lukola (or I suppose that should be the HMS Lukola!) because I saw exactly what you all saw. This was clearly real, their feelings were indisputable, and everything about their behavior and much of what they said was so far beyond PR, even “faking couplehood” PR.

They were real. Even if he had this dumb girlfriend. (I say that only in the good-natured, abstract sense that I wanted him with Nic, not in a personal “actually about her” sense. In fact, I’ve never said anything hateful about either A or J and I hope I never will.)

WHY AREN’T THEY TOGETHER???

I couldn’t resist the mystery.

It drove me absolutely crazy for months trying to understand why they weren’t together. Nothing made sense, but I mentally explored literally every possibility. They’re afraid of ruining their friendship? They’re afraid of disrupting the production if it goes wrong? These possibilities at least made some kind of sense and seemed to be the only explanations I could find. But in my mind, they weren’t good enough reasons to resist what these two so obviously had. Still, I’m not them, so that was easy for me to say. I had nothing to risk in this.

One or both of them is/are secretly gay? Soulmate besties instead of soulmate lovers? I didn’t think this was the case and nothing made me believe this. Yet, I was attempting to allow for every possibility. Still, with Nicola being the super vocal “gay icon” that she is, it was hard to imagine she wouldn’t live out and proud if that was the case. And apparently she lived with an unknown man for two years. Though she does always keep her private (romantic) life super private, so I suppose who knows? And, of course, Luke had two very public past relationships with women, but again, who knows, I suppose? This option doesn’t ring true at all, but it does exist in the universe of possible explanations for this inexplicable situation.

They love each other in a soulmate way, but somehow one of them just isn’t “attracted” to the other? Certainly, if the stories about Antonia were true, that might suggest that Luke might be attracted to an entirely different physical type than Nicola. But that didn’t ring true either because LOOK AT THEM TOGETHER! He can’t take his eyes off of her, let alone his hands. And the same for her. They are magnetized to each other. If that’s not attraction, what is?

One of them has baggage and isn’t ready for a real, serious relationship? This one seemed possible. People can have hang-ups or wounds for all sorts of reasons, and letting someone in – especially someone who might actually be your soulmate – can be terrifying. Self-protection by avoiding relationships and/or distracting yourself with less meaningful relationships is a natural way of coping with baggage. Yes, maybe this one? Neither of them seems obviously wounded, but what would I know? Most people don’t wear their wounds on their sleeves, least of all during a PR tour. Still, the energy flow between them seemed anything but wounded. It seemed like the healthiest, happiest thing in the world.

People kept saying, they’re blind and they don’t see it yet. But I don’t believe anyone can be that blind. Especially after watching all the countless edits and clips of their tour, which we know they did because Nicola is chronically online and sharing with Luke the best of it all (and sneaky Luke is likely lurking also).

So at the end of the day, I had no good explanation. It just kept not making sense.

Then those music festival photos of Nic and Jake (I’ll abbreviate sometimes for ease, but I do say their names) showed up. The fandom erupted into chaos with full reactions across the spectrum including a bizarre, almost immediate burst of (not yet named) jakolas, which felt like a disproportionate response to a few photos.

Admittedly, those photos did look quite friendly, and touchy, and yes, they stood arm-in-arm. But lots of friends stand like that at concerts. And Nic is known to be touchy-feely, so let’s not go overboard, I thought. However, I did acknowledge (in my head, I didn’t weigh in online at all) that it suggested that it COULD be romantic. I opted not to freak out, because either way, Nic’s love life is her own and I want her to be happy.

And it’s worth saying here that both of their private lives are none of my business, none of any of our business, and even writing this is completely at odds with that truth. I acknowledge that. But what I told myself, and actually meant it, was that I was going to stay out of it unless and until NicLuke got together. That was the only place I would invest my energy since they’ve both said they think it’s sweet that fans ship them. If they dated others, good luck to them. Be happy. But when the time comes…

Yes, friends, the time has come!!! But back to my story.

Note that (because again, I was still catching up), I hadn’t yet seen the swimming in Sorrento photos and had missed that piece of the puzzle at that point. Throughout this time, I’d see people refer to things on Twitter like everyone already knew what they were talking about, but hardly anyone ever took the time to explain. So I got lots of glimmers of things that others felt were notable, without actually knowing any details. Those pictures were an example. Another was the Claddagh ring.

I’m very grateful to some amazing deep dive blog entries by @threeacttragedy that explained the ring, “Bless the Telephone,” and other meaty, important history that I’d previously only heard mentioned in passing. In fact, one of her blogs is what first brought me here by referral from Twitter. And if you don’t follow her, you should!

In the past week, as I started reading blogs that broke down past dates and clues, I finally started looking them up one by one and trying to put the pieces together in my head. I’d seen the swimming photos by then, but I revisited them. I dug in to try to understand the references to a “New Year kiss” from the night the friend group (Rory, etc.) posted photos together from a Soho House party. I reviewed Hot Boy Summer, I rewatched the incredibly emotional video of Luke meeting Nicola’s mom, I looked at photos of the Claddagh ring and went to Chupi’s website. I learned about the LA photos from April, both Antonia’s version and the InStyle Polaroids. I reviewed all the photos of Luke and Antonia that I could find. And I reviewed all the photos and videos of Nic and Jake that I could find. Also, I listened to “Bless the Telephone” about one hundred times. Lol.

Regarding Luke and Antonia, I had the same response in this deep dive I’ve had every time. Weird. I mean, if I didn’t feel so strongly that Luke was in love with Nicola, and if I knew nothing about him except he was some hot actor, could I see him dating someone like A? Sure. But the fact that there are almost no pictures of them posing together, alone like a couple, is weird. Even if it’s super casual and she was just his date to some stuff. The fact that Luke looks grumpy in both sets of pap photos (premiere night and swimming in Sorrento), but A is smiling happily in at least one of the premiere night photos is weird. The fact that after the Sorrento pap photos, Luke seems to leave his friend group to come home early, and then stops liking any of his best friend Rory’s photos from there on, weird.

The fact that in the fall, she posts pictures harkening back to a place and time they were apparently together, but without any actual photos together, weird. And the continual drip, drip of Likes from Luke is weird. And then when a photo of Luke in a restaurant in Rome is posted by the restaurant, she immediately follows with a video story of someone making pasta in the same restaurant, weird.

Perhaps weirdest of all, the fact that she pre-posted the LA pictures, and then he gave other versions of the same shots to InStyle. Especially the switching seats thing. If my husband and I were taking pics of each other at a café, I’d take his picture in front of the traffic, and he’d take my picture in front of the restaurant, because that’s where we’d be sitting. Across from each other. So why switch seats to take the photos? It’s not like that street with traffic was such a fantastic backdrop that we’d each need our turn with that shot? And they’re the same, with the same table number, but different. Sure, traffic moves, but weird coincidence that they each had a white truck, but a DIFFERENT white truck. So, like I said, weird. Always implying they were together, but never actually saying/showing it. Weird.

I read all sorts of theories from pragmatic (we just have to accept that they’re dating) to hateful (they’re not together/never were, but she’s obsessed and keeps inserting herself in a pathetic, desperate plea for attention and followers) to seemingly far-fetched (some sort of NDA that means for some reason Luke is obligated to Like her photos). Only the first of these seemed plausible. I maybe didn’t like it (not maybe, I didn’t like it at all), but I thought, “Yes, I guess we just have to accept that they’re probably together until they tell us otherwise.”

(Though I held out a small sliver of “but we don’t know anything for sure until L and/or N tell us themselves” hope, which remains true even as I write this.)

Now, let’s talk about Nic and Jake. First, there were those shots from the concert (discussed above). Then, I believe, were the NYC shots (if I’m not confusing the order). In the NYC shots, they were both there, but they weren’t especially intimate in any interpersonal sense. Then, the pap shots on the street posted on DM, ostensibly catching them walking home together, holding hands and arm-in-arm after a night at the pub. With those photos came an onslaught of fandom fury and gossip site reporting about how “Nicola Coughlan confirms her relationship…” Same story runs across a bunch of trashy sites, all saying the same thing and citing an unnamed source talking about how besotted they were, or whatever the quote was.

Admittedly, I was among the furious fans. Not because of what the pictures showed. Again, I was trying to be serene and Zen about them and their private lives. I believed with all my heart that NicLuke belonged together, but if now wasn’t their time, I’d have to wait. I didn’t love that I’d heard he was only 24, but I was trying to balance my efforts to be a non-judgmental person with my discomfort over that issue and reminding myself that her choices are none of my business (unless she chooses Luke!).

So I did my best to refrain from judgment, even as I saw the fandom erupt into toxic madness about whether it was true, whether he was gay, whether the age gap was wrong, whether DM lied about the date, and if they did (which they did), why? But I figured, unless the photos were very, very old, things weren’t likely to have changed in their relationship over a couple weeks, so I wasn’t overly concerned about the date.

However, I was angry about all these stories (basically the same story across the board) announcing that she’d “CONFIRMED” the relationship. It made me very angry that they said she confirmed something when she’d done nothing of the sort. I wasn’t prepared to argue that she wasn’t dating Jake at that point, but why would they all run this story, with this headline, when what actually happened was a paparazzi photographer snapped shots and sold them, then the media drew conclusions from what they saw.

Nicola never confirmed a damn thing. So why were they running this headline so universally?

I was also angry that the photos existed at all. Photos in her neighborhood could reveal her location and put her safety at risk. Also, how did they happen to be there to take those photos late one specific night? Felt like they must have received a tip. But I moved on and forgot about that part.

Time went on and I saw more and more discussion of Jake’s sexuality. I don’t really want to get into that here because I don’t really feel comfortable speculating about anyone unless they choose to explicitly come out, but I did finally start poking around his page, Douglas’s page, etc. and began to understand why people were saying what they were saying. However, I reminded myself that bi/pan-sexuality exists and I wasn’t willing to partake in bi-erasure, so I held my tongue and kept watching.

Now, at this point, I want to remind us all that Nic has always been extremely private and uttered nary a peep in public about her romantic/sexual life. And fair enough. It’s none of our damn business. Also, she’s talked extensively about how women are not just men’s girlfriends and her feminist take on many things and how it doesn’t feel nice to know that people are more interested in her love life than her work. She’s worked freaking hard to achieve the success she’s now enjoying, and she certainly should not be reduced to a woman in a relationship. No matter who is on the other end of that relationship.

(Again here, I feel the need to acknowledge my hypocrisy in writing this, but I really do genuinely love Nic’s work and spirit and activism, etc. as well.)

So, in light of her position on all of that, we wouldn’t expect her to go public with a new love interest. The fact that she was papped with this guy (if indeed he was a love interest) was just an indication of how much her celebrity and profile have grown. There’s greater interest now and she’s more recognizable now, so it’s to be expected that she’d have a harder time keeping her love life private now than in the past. Not so strange then, that she got caught a couple times in paparazzi photos at this point.

However, would she really then go public with that guy? That would mark a radical change in her behavior just when you’d think she’d want to be the most private because the glare of the spotlight is brighter than ever. Still, she allowed a public photo with him, Camilla, and Evan Ross Katz to go out shortly thereafter. If one believed they were dating, that could certainly be interpreted as a launch. Yet, as I said, would she really do that if she were dating him?

Then he started popping up everywhere. I won’t get the chronology here right because I don’t want to research the dates right now, but there was the Charlie xcx concert, in which she appeared with Jake and Dylan, who is out and proud. The Queer premiere where he was just caught in the background of a fan photo. The simultaneously released photos from the red and gold restaurant (with a mysterious third person taking the photos). There was the apparently brunch-time photo of her with Jake and two others, taken by Dylan. And most recently, Louisa’s photo with Jake and Douglas (who is also openly gay and close friends, if not more, with Jake).

I’m not mentioning all the players in all of these because it’s not critical to the story, and I may be forgetting some photos, but there is a point to all of this. First, there’s potentially a notable shift in what she’s allowing to be shared here. Again, historically, she’s never shared anything about her love life. Suddenly, she’s letting him be photographed everywhere. Also, at most of these events, there were other queer participants and/or queer content (the movie premiere).

And while she’s never allowed her romantic life to be shared, you know what she has often shared? Photos with all of her platonic friends, including her huge friend group of many, many gay men. So this trend in what she’s allowing to be shared suggests that she’s telling a story and clarifying Jake’s role in her life.

But then there’s that one mystery release, the simultaneously timed restaurant photo drops. Clearly coordinated, clearly indicating they were there together. No indication about the third party. Why? Just enough to hint that there might be something going on, and to continue wreaking havoc in the fandom.

Because remember that toxic fandom bickering over all of this? The jakolas swearing they’re in love and soon to be engaged and furious at the lukolas for “being blind and refusing to accept the truth and it’s so disrespectful to Nic ('who you claim to love') by disregarding her feelings and treating the love of her life so badly. They keep showing you they’re in love and you won’t listen!” Etc., etc.

Meanwhile, the lukolas fall into a couple camps. By this point, most have decided Nic and Jake aren’t dating, but some remain circumspect. Some scream back at the jakolas, ostensibly in defense of Jake, saying very similar things about “Jake and his friends are doing everything in their power to show you the truth and you refuse to see it.” And a variety of other responses. Everyone’s mad at everyone.

And all of it, every bit of it, keeps us ALL talking about Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton. Nonstop, every day.

Now, we are nearing the big mic drop of all of this, and I want to say at this point that we need to remember that Nic and Luke are HUMAN BEINGS who have a right to privacy. And they are celebrities living in a world that has an intense interest in their love lives. And sometimes, we might not feel good about the measures they must take to protect their privacy. We might hate those measures. We might feel manipulated, and we are. But if we love and respect them as much as I hope we all do, we can also understand and forgive them for taking such measures.

A quick review of important factors in all of this:

THINGS THAT TELL US IT’S REAL

The Galway trip and that very emotional introduction to Nic’s mom, which looked for all the world like a woman meeting her future son-in-law

The Claddagh ring and how she’s been wearing it

The things reporters, cast, and crew have said in passing and/or posted, not to mention recent open shipping from Ryan Wheeler and Shondaland’s IG

Everything we saw with our own eyes on the world tour, not to mention everything we’ve seen in the BTS

Little droplets of NicLuke over the recent months like Bless the Telephone and (not yet mentioned above) the S4 selfie and the photo of them in costume that Nic said she thought she’d shared, but now it’s ours (while she hasn’t posted any Jake)

The absolute consistency of all of this as a story that makes sense

THINGS THAT MAKE US DOUBT IT’S REAL AND/OR KEEP US GUESSING AND DISCUSSING

The premiere night pap photos (and though I didn’t mention it earlier, the fact that Nic went home that night so she wasn’t around for A’s attendance)

The friend group photos at Soho House with Luke, A and others

The weird LA InStyle photos

The Sorrento swimming photos

The multiple sets of pap photos of Nic and Jake, including grainy night-time neighborhood photos (with a woman walking a dog in the background)

The way every gossip news outlet ran the same “Nicola confirmed her relationship” story with the same headline and the same anonymous quote

The weirdly devoted, intensely defensive jakolas/Jake stans that seem to care about nothing but Jake/jakola out of nowhere and love screaming at and stirring up shit with lukolas

The chaos and constant discussion of all of this over the past 6+ months

The absolute inconsistency of any of this with anything in the top group

So, this mystery just gets deeper and deeper, and none of it makes sense. Every time I’d try to accept that they were just seeing these other people, something would bump in my head. There were just too many weird things that didn’t quite make sense and the biggest, weirdest one of them all was that NICOLA AND LUKE ARE CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER.

So while the pieces would always almost fit, the puzzle never quite took shape. Until two nights ago when I stumbled on @lukolafan ’s page after they liked one of my posts. I scrolled down their page and found a link labeled “Lukola PR Strategies and Fake Narratives.” I cannot scream this loudly enough. GO VISIT THAT LINK!!!!! (I’ll add the links myself later if I have time.)

I did and it led to a series of Reddit posts taking an academic approach to teaching us, the general public (and lukola fans) PR Media Literacy. Among the various topics it discussed were things like:

“PR Firms and Entertainment Media: Coordinating “News” Across Gossip, Entertainment, and Official Publications,” which talks about using anonymous sources, more about staged paparazzi, and repeated narratives (“outlets echo identical stories, reinforcing PR-approved messaging, for example, multiple outlets platforms describing a celebrity ‘rising above’ a controversy, quoting the same anonymous insider” – Sound familiar?)

“The Invisible Hand of Celebrity Privacy: How PR Fabricates Narratives and Manipulates Fans,” which includes ways that PR strategies intentionally manipulate fans to fight/debate celebs faking relationships, and more (sound familiar?)

There’s honestly so much meat in all of these (there are a couple others as well) that they are ALL worth reading. There is definitely some repetition, but still, the content is super insightful and revealing and can help us all be more savvy consumers of media.

But I want to focus on two CRITICAL posts, in particular.

“The Role of Staged Paparazzi and Gossip Outlets in Celebrity PR Campaigns”

The first part of this piece talks about the method for staging fake paparazzi photos to create narratives. Two items of particular note (and I’m excerpting directly):

Quality Control of the Image: While professional photographers use high-quality cameras, staged paparazzi photos are intentionally manipulated to appear grainy or blurry. This adds a layer of authenticity to the photo, making it look as though the photographer stumbled upon the celebrity by chance.

Extra Figures in the Background: Another key tactic in staged paparazzi photos involves the use of background extras—people who might be walking with dogs, pushing strollers, or simply in the vicinity.

Think of Nicola’s photos walking home with Jake, a woman walking a dog behind them. Some of them are clear, but some are quite grainy, despite the fact that professional photographers have great equipment and are more than capable of taking a night-time shot.

Another excerpt…

Gossip Outlets: DeuxMoi and the Symbiotic Relationship with PR Firms

With the rise of user-generated content and anonymously submitted tips, gossip websites have become integral to the modern celebrity PR machine. Sites like DeuxMoi thrive on rumors and speculation, providing a platform for fans and anonymous sources to share celebrity gossip. PR teams exploit these platforms to feed their desired narratives without appearing to directly control the flow of information.

How Gossip Sites Like DeuxMoi Work:

Anonymous Tips and Leaks: PR teams often send anonymous tips to gossip outlets, offering details about celebrity activities or sightings. These tips are deliberately vague, leaving room for interpretation and speculation. Once posted on sites like DeuxMoi, the stories tend to snowball as they are shared across social media and republished by larger outlets.

Fueling Speculation: These posts generate buzz and speculation, keeping celebrities in the public eye without any direct confirmation. Gossip sites become a key player in amplifying the narrative, as fans, influencers, and media outlets continue to discuss and spread the information.

Mutual Benefits: While gossip sites operate independently, there is a mutual benefit to the relationship between them and PR teams. Gossip sites thrive on traffic and engagement, while PR teams can ensure their client’s name stays relevant in the public discourse. By subtly feeding stories, PR teams maintain control over how their celebrity’s narrative unfolds.

The piece goes on to give specific examples like Kendall Jenner and Bad Bunny, Tomdaya, Gigi Hadad and Zayne Malik, etc. then talks about fake fan interactions and how to spot them.

It offers key questions to ask about the photos you see (like what story is it telling and why and who benefits?) and then it gives this example. If your ears aren’t already fully perked, this will do it:

Example: 37-Year-Old Famous Actress and 24-Year-Old Lesser-Known Celebrity

Narrative of Romance or Distraction: In this case, the 37-year-old actress is likely fueling rumors of a relationship with the 24-year-old to either distract from something else in her personal life (like a real romantic partner) or to refresh her public image. The younger celebrity could be hired to play a temporary love interest��or interest figure in the media, leading people to speculate whether they are more than just friends.

Creating a Romance or Mystery: The photo of them walking arm-in-arm, laughing, or holding hands might suggest that a romantic connection exists. This could be used to make the actress seem more relatable, desirable, or single, even if there is no romantic involvement behind the scenes.

Diverting Public Focus: If the actress is privately in a relationship with another celebrity or involved in an ongoing controversy, the staged photo with the younger celebrity helps to deflect attention. By inserting a "mystery romance," the public is more interested in who the new partner is, leaving the actress’s real partner or issues to stay out of the spotlight.

PR Stunt to Revitalize Publicity: The actress might not just be looking for romantic gossip but also fresh exposure. A curated paparazzi shot could serve as a PR tool to keep the actress's name in circulation—be it through romantic rumors, new partnerships, or simply new media content to fuel speculation.

Potential Body Double for Real Partner: If the real partner is shying away from the public eye or trying to avoid the media, the younger celebrity might act as a "body double" or decoy. This helps maintain an image of the actress being in a public relationship, while allowing her to keep the real relationship.

Don’t think I need to explain the relevance of this very specific example. There’s a lot more in the post, but I’ll move on for now to the next key post.

“Breadcrumbing and Coordinated Campaigns”

In this piece, they offer first some key breadcrumbing tactics, many of which sound awfully familiar.

Common Types of Breadcrumbs:

Cryptic Social Media Posts: Celebrities post vague messages or abstract references, sparking fan theories. Example: Harry Styles posts cryptic images or quotes, prompting speculation.

Coordinated Social Media Timing: PR teams synchronize posts to create the illusion of a shared narrative. Example: Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss posted similar content at the same time, fueling relationship rumors.

Accidental Social Media Interactions: Liking posts or commenting on ambiguous tweets creates intimacy and speculation. Example: Kendall Jenner engages with fans on social media, fueling rumors.

Seemingly Innocent Photos: Casual photos subtly hint at a larger narrative. Example: Zendaya and Tom Holland posted photos together, teasing their relationship.

Cryptic? Like Bless the Telephone? Or a mysterious left-handed guy holding a phone in the background while Nic gets ready?

Synchronized like Nic and Jake at that restaurant? Or as far as that goes, like Nic and Luke with the S4 selfie?

Accidental social media interactions? I didn’t go into that here, but we’ve seen lots of odd likes and things, lots of Nic interactions, oh, and those RW and SL likes of late.

Seemingly innocent photos. Like very happy looking S4 pics and the “now it’s yours” BTS photo?

Perhaps most of this could be interpreted as just genuine fan interaction and fan service, which I think it is to some extent. It’s a natural part of the business. But it’s also very often done with intention.

But here’s the more important part of this piece. It gives some case studies (Ben and JLo, Shawn and Camila), then it gives two “abstract” examples.

YOU’LL LOVE THIS. Note that the second example changes to an actor and a musician, but don’t let that fool you. Keep reading for some unmistakable specifics.

Breadcrumbing with a Fake PR Girlfriend: Case Study of Celebrity 007

For Celebrity 007, breadcrumbing is used to create a false narrative about a relationship with a PR girlfriend. This helps maintain fan interest while deflecting attention from the celebrity’s true personal life.

How It Works:

First Breadcrumbs: The PR strategy begins with posts from both the celebrity and the PR girlfriend, hinting at a connection without confirming it. Example: Celebrity 007 posts a picture from a Paris restaurant or cafe in LA and the PR girlfriend shares a similar post from the same location but from a different day with different white trucks in the background (double check the Instyle Stunt images!!!)

Expanding the Narrative: Shared travel posts and indirect interactions continue the illusion of a relationship. Example: Matching geo-tags in posts from Rome suggest they were there together.

Indirect Engagement: Likes, comments, and ambiguous interactions increase intrigue without confirming the relationship. Example: The PR girlfriend comments, “Great to be here with you! 💖,” on Celebrity 007's post.

Paparazzi Shots: Carefully timed candid shots further reinforce the illusion of a relationship. Example: Paparazzi photos of Celebrity 007 and the PR girlfriend walking hand-in-hand, fueling speculation.

Note:

Café in LA, same location, different trucks?

Matching tags in Rome?

Likes and ambiguous interactions

Carefully timed (say at a premiere party) candid paparazzi shops w gf walking hand-in-hand

And then there’s the next one. In the interest of length since this is already hella long, I’ve removed some less relevant parts, but I encourage you to read it yourself.

Breadcrumbing to Hide a Real Relationship: Case Study of Celebrity 009

Why Hide the True Relationship?

In celebrity culture, the decision to keep a relationship private—or hidden—can be a strategic move, driven by a mix of personal privacy and professional interests. Some celebrities may choose to share their personal lives openly, but for others, particularly those who value their privacy or wish to control their public image, keeping a relationship private is key. This is especially relevant for two celebrities who are romantically involved but prefer to maintain discretion, despite public curiosity about their relationship.

Whether it’s a high-profile couple like Beyoncé and Jay-Z, or a less conspicuous pairing, the decision to hide the true nature of a romantic relationship often involves balancing personal desires with career strategy. In this scenario, let’s explore why two celebrities might choose to keep their relationship under wraps and the complex PR considerations that lead them to do so.

Media Scrutiny/Escaping Constant Surveillance: Navigating the Spotlight Together (I’ve combined two sections here for length)

When two celebrities become romantically involved, the media will inevitably take notice. The relationship can quickly become the focal point of constant headlines, paparazzi photos, and gossip columns. For celebrities who value their privacy, this level of scrutiny can feel overwhelming, as every public appearance or moment shared can quickly turn into speculation, even if the couple doesn’t wish to attract attention.

Romanticized Expectations: The Pressure of Perfection

Media scrutiny often creates an unrealistic, romanticized version of a celebrity relationship. Fans and the public tend to project their fantasies onto famous couples, imagining them as the perfect, unbreakable pairing. The real complexities of a relationship—differences, compromises, and struggles—often don't fit neatly into the idealized narratives created by the public.

For a couple like Actor A and Musician B, the pressure to live up to these idealized expectations can be exhausting. By choosing to keep their relationship private, they can avoid the constant pressure to fit into a preconceived mold. Hiding the relationship from public view allows them to keep things grounded and avoid being turned into a media spectacle.

Brand Control: Managing the Image of "Singleness" or "Availability"

For many celebrities, their public image is closely tied to their brand, and that brand may depend on their perceived "availability" or their status as desirable, unattached individuals. The way the public perceives a celebrity’s romantic life—whether they are single, dating, or in a long-term relationship—can have a significant impact on their professional success and marketability.

Creating Room for Desire: The Allure of the Single Celebrity

Consider Actor A, a leading man known for portraying romantic heroes on screen. The public’s perception of Actor A as a single, unattainable figure is key to their marketability, both in the media and as a brand. If they were to publicly reveal a relationship with Musician B, it could diminish that aura of unattainability. Similarly, Musician B may want to maintain a flirtatious public persona, which could be undermined if they were publicly involved with someone. By keeping the relationship private, both celebrities retain the allure of being desirable and unattached, feeding into the fantasies of their fans.

Avoiding the "Couple" Brand: Risk of Being Reduced to a Package Deal

When a high-profile couple’s relationship is made public, they may become known less for their individual work and more for their collective identity as a couple. In some cases, the couple's public appearances or shared brand messages may overshadow their individual projects. Think of Beyoncé and Jay-Z, who have an incredibly powerful couple brand that often eclipses their solo endeavors in the media. For celebrities like Actor A and Musician B, the fear of being seen as a "package deal" might drive them to hide their relationship. This allows both to maintain their distinct identities, keeping their projects and brands separate and preventing the public from viewing them solely as a pair.

Respecting Boundaries: The Vulnerability of Celebrity Relationships

Even when two celebrities are involved, the vulnerabilities of a relationship can become the focus of media attention if they go public. Romantic relationships—especially those in the high-pressure world of celebrity—are often fraught with ups and downs. The public might demand to know every detail, fueling rumors of breakups, infidelities, or relationship drama. By keeping their romance under wraps, Actor A and Musician B can avoid becoming the subject of constant gossip and can maintain some semblance of normalcy in their private lives.

Avoiding Disruptive Publicity

Celebrity relationships often attract media scrutiny not only about their romantic lives but also about how their relationship affects their careers. The public and the media often delve into the smallest details, speculating about how the relationship might impact their professional trajectories, previous relationships, or future projects.

Career Disruption: The Challenge of Balancing Love and Work

For celebrities like Musician B, a new relationship can take attention away from their upcoming album release or concert tour. The media’s obsession with their personal life might overshadow the launch of a new professional project. Similarly, if Actor A is in the middle of promoting a film or preparing for a big role, the press could focus more on their relationship than their craft, disrupting the flow of their work.

I won’t bother reviewing the relevance of all of the above. I’m sure you can see it plainly for yourself. The examples are absolutely, positively referencing Nicola and Luke, and the reasons for hiding it are super relevant. Especially boundaries, disruption, pressure to be perfect, and being reduced to a package deal.

Now at this point, it’s worth asking the question, do we trust this source? I don’t actually know who posted this content, so I can’t verify their credentials. Perhaps this is yet another PR person’s tricky efforts to continually confuse us and keep us guessing? That seems unlikely since the entire purpose is to help lift the veil on all the other tricks. If you wanted the other tricks to be effective, you’d hardly be revealing them to your target audiences.

But even setting that very logical assumption aside, the reason I know with every fiber of my being that it’s true is that this is literally the only version of events that makes sense of absolutely everything.

All those mysterious and confusing signals, all those weird photos and changes in behavior, all the inconsistencies between what we all saw with our own eyes (they are IN LOVE) and what we saw subsequently with the adjacents, all the tiny Lukola crumbs keeping us hanging on, and all the fandom bickering, especially from bizarrely rabid jakolas.

Every bit of it makes complete sense if we accept that Nic, Luke, and their PR teams have been using a classic PR handbook to distract us from the very real truth that they are together and in love.

Does it hurt to know we’ve been manipulated? You bet it does! But I quickly accepted that because I was so happy to have the truth verified at last. And because I understand why they would do it.

Relationships are hard enough when lived in private. No relationship, no matter how much people love each other, is without challenge. Even soulmates have issues to navigate. Can you imagine the pressure on them if the whole world was watching?

And their lives have added challenges. Travel and separation. Long work schedules that may often be at odds. Possibly romantic scenes with future co-stars that could stir up uncomfortable feelings. Career ups and downs that may not always synch up. Fans and media watching their every move, dissecting them, judging them, rooting for them, and just putting massive pressure on them. What if they fail? They’re letting down the whole world, not just themselves.

And what about Nic’s longstanding demand for privacy? And her emphasis that no woman is just some dude’s girlfriend. She wants to be known for her own work and achievement and passions, not for who she dates or marries. Even if it is wonderful Luke.

Likewise, Luke is just now achieving a newfound level of success. This is a moment for him to seize and make the most of. Being a hot, sexy, ostensibly single guy is good for his brand right now. Even if we know he loves Nicola, his stans need to be able to fantasize about him, which is easier if his relationship is unconfirmed.

And let’s face it, if they come out as a couple, IT WILL BE LUKOLA all the time. That will be the story. Certainly if they’d come out during the World Tour, every question at every stop would be about them and their personal “friends to lovers story.” It would be irresistible to reporters. Too good a story to ignore. And they’d spend way more time talking about their personal lives than about their work. Does that sound like something either of them would want?

And one last thing. Back to their changes in behavior. Does it make more sense that Nicola, who has always been super private about her love life, would suddenly be willing to be photographed constantly with her new bf Jake? Or that Jake is not her bf and she’s keeping her actual bf (or fiancé or husband) secret?

Meanwhile, Luke, who has always been open about his relationships in the past suddenly decides to tighten up and share absolutely nothing about his private life? Well, that makes complete sense if he’s now in a relationship with a woman who is famously private and shares not one word publicly. Suddenly, literally everything makes sense and is entirely consistent.

So there it is, folks. To me, this is the Holy Grail. There’s not a doubt left in my mind about them. They’re together and everything else – literally everything else – is a decoy and a distraction, and every bit of it comes straight from the PR playbook.

I’d like to maintain a sliver of hope that they’re leaving much of it to their teams and they’re not in on the worst of it, but in any case, I don’t blame them one bit for trying to protect their love. It’s too special to let it be destroyed by public consumption. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Given that I don’t actually know them and haven’t confirmed anything directly, I’ll leave 1.5% room for doubt, and adjust my certainty to 98.5%.

And you may dismiss all of this and draw very different conclusions, which is okay, too. But if I’m being really honest, I’m actually 1,000% sure. And I couldn’t be happier for them.

What do we do now? That’s up to each of us. Personally, I’m going to be blissfully happy for them, not sweat any of the distractions, let them live as quietly as they like, and patiently await the day (whether it’s very soon or far in the future) when they finally go public. I hope you’ll do the same.

And until then, I’m going to keep watching Lukola videos on repeat.

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #polin #polin bridgerton #nicluke #lukola is real #I've never been more sure of anything #then again #But it's all true and I can prove it

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astars-things · 17 days ago

Note

Hi! Could we get more moments of Quinn and Jacks daughter? You mentioned he is her favorite😼

(Shy daughter is the best AU😭)

3 moments when Quinn Hughes was the favorite uncle

1- when Quinn spent 500 dollars on tea party things

I was tying Y/N's shoes when I heard the car pull up. Glancing through the window, I saw Quinn step out, arms loaded with giant boxes. My brows furrowed. What did he do now?

“Quinn!” I called, walking outside with Y/N on my hip. “What’s all this?”

He grinned sheepishly, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Tea party stuff.”

“Tea party stuff?” I echoed, confused.

Y/N wriggled out of my arms and ran toward the car. “Is it for me, Uncle Quinn?”

“Of course, it is, princess,” he said, patting her head. “The best tea party setup for the best niece.”

I looked closer at the labels on the boxes: a mini porcelain tea set, a child-sized table with matching chairs, lace decorations, and��was that a tower of cupcakes?

“Quinn, what the fuck?” I blurted, gesturing at the overflowing trunk. “How much did all this cost?”

Quinn shrugged, looking far too casual. “Five hundred, give or take.”

“Five hundred?!” I barked, throwing my hands in the air. “It’s a tea party, not a wedding!”

Quinn crouched to Y/N’s level. “Do you like it, princess?”

Y/N’s delighted squeal was enough of an answer and despite myself, I sighed. “You’re ridiculous, man.”

2-babysitter Quinn

Jack had called Quinn to come babysit as Quinn was in town for the Hughes bowl this weekend, Jack and Luke had a team dinner so none of the team was available to babysit,

“Quinn, her bedtime is 7:30,” Jack repeated, emphasizing each word like it was life-or-death. “And no treats after 4. She gets hyper, and then I’m the one dealing with it.”

“Got it, bedtime, no treats,” Quinn mumbled, scrolling through his phone, clearly half-listening.

Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. “I mean it. No ice cream, no cupcakes, nothing. You’re here to watch her, not spoil her.”

“Relax, Jack,” Quinn said, finally looking up. “She’s going to be fine"

Jack groaned, but before he could argue, Luke honked the car horn from the driveway. “Fine,” Jack muttered, pointing a finger at Quinn. “I’ll be back at 9. Behave.”

The second Jack walked out, Quinn leaned down to Y/N, who was playing with her stuffed animals on the floor. “Hey, bub,” he said. “Want to have some ice cream and watch Bluey?”

Y/N’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning. “Ice cream? For real?”

“Yup,” Quinn grinned, already heading towards the kitchen. “But don’t tell your dad, okay? Uncle Quinn’s got your back.”

Y/N giggled, clapping her hands. “Okay! You’re the best, Uncle Quinn!”

By the time Jack came home, he was met with chaos: empty ice cream bowls, crumbs on the couch, and Y/N passed out under a blanket fort made of Quinn’s jacket and half the living room furniture.

3-Lake house choas

That’s it," I finally said, my voice firmer than usual. “Y/N, time out. Chair. Now.”

Her big eyes filled with betrayal, but she huffed her way over to the time-out chair, plopping down with crossed arms and a dramatic sigh. I tried to ignore the pang of guilt as I walked back to the kitchen to clean up.

Quinn, who had been lounging on the couch, wandered over. “What’s going on with the tiny tornado?”

“She’s in time out,” I muttered, rinsing a plate. “She’s gotta learn.”

Five minutes later, I looked up to find silence. Too much silence. I peeked out the back door and froze.

There was Quinn, standing waist-deep in the lake, holding Y/N under her arms as she giggled and splashed water everywhere.

“Quinn!” I stormed down to the shore. “What the fuck? She’s supposed to be in time out!”

Quinn turned to me, completely unfazed. “She looked lonely and sad,” he said, shrugging like it was the most logical explanation in the world.

“She’s supposed to be lonely and sad. That’s the point!” I yelled, throwing my arms up.

Y/N looked at me with those wide, innocent eyes, her bottom lip wobbling. “Dada, Uncle Quinn said I could swim.”

Quinn grinned smugly. “She’s a good kid, Jack. Let her off this time.”

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Quinn, you’re impossible.”

#send in requests #imagines #thanks anon!#jack hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x daughter!reader #Uncle Quinn Hughes #jack hughes as a dad

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darsynia · 25 days ago

Note

Steve and Avenger!Reader going to a Christmas Market please! 🥰 Can be any sort of relationship but wouldn't mind a Christmas Market proposal...

Thank you so much, this is perfect for both @buck-star's fluffy winter event (Christmas Market) and Day 1 of @the-slumberparty's December Daze: (let me dust the snow off your coat/hat/shoulder)

Words/Warnings: 2,315 / tooth-rotting fluff

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS | BUCKY BARNES

Don’t Mind If I Do

“Even North Carolina is freezing cold this morning, I checked. Trust me, this will be worth it.”

You frown in your perfect blanket cocoon. “All right, I’ll be out front by 8. And I’m cranking the heat in my rooms to 74 while I do it, just so I’ll be in a nicer mood for you!”

“You won’t regret it, sweetheart.”

With that, the two of you hang up, and you tap the + icon multiple times in the app that controls the heating in your suite. The Avengers Compound isn’t much to look at from the outside, but they make up for that in amenities. The only catch is, the suites are much too small to share with anyone. Despite your year-long committed relationship, you and Steve haven’t been able to truly ‘sleep over’ or spend couples time comfortably while stationed here. His rental apartment in NYC is lovely, and you’ve spent time together there, but both of you tend to be work-oriented. You’ve made do with what you have, even when that means sometimes cramming into Steve’s twin sized, extra-long bed here at the Compound.

Besides, you remind yourself as you rush through your morning routine, Steve Rogers isn’t the ‘shack up’ type, so it’s not like you’d be sharing an apartment if one were available. Still, it feels wrong to wake up without his warm, strong body next to yours on a cold day like this.

Steve had told you to dress for being outside, so after pulling on a thick pair of socks and lacing up your hiking boots, you don a knitted hat and shrug on a winter coat over your sweater. You meet up with Steve in the atrium of the building, feeling that familiar flush when he turns and lights up to see you.

“Oh perfect, you look nice and warm,” Steve says, quickly adding, “--and beautiful too. Very.”

He always leads with the truth, but as a boyfriend, he’s made you feel lovely enough for a superhero, leading to this in-joke of adding that compliment as an afterthought. You know him enough now to recognize when he thinks the second part first, and the face he’d made after turning around tells you this is one of those days.

“Are any of those pre-requisites for your secret Saturday morning outing?”

“Two of those are permanent, but yes, being warm will help,” he says, holding out a bare hand for you to take.

Inwardly grinning, you start to slip off your own glove, then pause. “Exactly how cold is it in North Carolina versus here? Do I need to grab a scarf?” Before working with the Avengers, you’d been stationed at Fort Liberty, so the climate difference between that and upstate New York had taken a little getting used to.

Steve takes your glove, tucks it into your pocket (being sure to crowd close enough to blatantly smell your hair), and then takes your bare hand in his bare hand to walk out into the brisk December air. It’s cold.

“At least ten degrees warmer than this, but I’d be happy to offer my arm as a scarf,” he says, squeezing your hand as you wend your way through the parked cars.

“You’re ten times better looking than all of my scarves, so I think I win!”

The drive is cozy with the heat on and an oldies Christmas station crooning the classics. After almost a half hour of light conversation and heavy exchanged glances, Steve pulls into a charming neighborhood decked to the rafters with holiday cheer. You peer out the windows, trying to figure out the plan. Are there sleigh-hay rides? An ice skating rink? Maybe a holiday quilt show set up in an 18th century church somewhere? You’re so caught up by the possibilities that you miss the instructions Steve gets from a woman wearing a high-vis jacket and Santa hat until the car parks, and he turns it off.

There’s something almost ceremonial about the way your boyfriend pats each of his warm trenchcoat’s pockets to find his gloves before pulling them on and flexing his hands. It’s captivating, not dissimilar to the way he girds himself for battle (whether physically or morally, you’ve noticed).

“You see my hat anywhere?” he asks, finally turning to look at you.

“Crap. I might have sat on it,” you realize.

Steve grins. “Well, it’ll be warm.”

You both get out of the car, and Steve dons his pre-warmed hat before gesturing toward the city center a few blocks away. “Christmas market.”

If your life was a film, that’s where either the Hallelujah Chorus or a full-on tire screech would have happened, but as it is, you fall sideways into him and catch yourself on his lapel, looking up at him with wide, delighted eyes.

“You promise? Oh God, that was way too Hallmark of me, I’m sorry-- but… you promise?” you ask, going through three vastly different facial expressions in the process.

“I promise,” Steve says, taking your hand in his, then lifting both to kiss the back of yours.

Christmas markets had been a staple of your childhood, and your family used to travel pretty far afield to see new and favorite ones. As your family’s circumstances had changed, those trips had dwindled, and by the time you were out of high school, they were a treasured memory of a no-longer-possible past. The years since then have mostly involved you throwing yourself into your work, becoming the kind of person soldiers and civilians alike can trust and rely on. If you’re honest, your time with the Avengers has been more fulfilling than even those precious school years of summer beaches, birthday parties, and chilly strolls through magical small-town holiday displays.

Part of that is Steve, a genuine hero and painfully good man who somehow seems to love you almost as much as you love him. Since the first moment you met he’s held out his hand for you in support. He’s a teammate, a challenger, a role model, and honestly? A partner.

“Snow! Look at that!” You can hear the smile in his voice. Light, gentle flurries have started to drift down just as you visit the first festive stall. It’s perfect timing, since some of the crafts on display are delicate handmade snowflake ornaments. “If you’ve got an ‘in’ with the weather, sir, I’d love to learn your secrets,” Steve jokes with the owner.

“It snows for you, to make perfect day for you and your wife!” the elderly man says with a beatific expression. “Please, you must take one for your tree at home.”

The two of you have two separate small trees, a result made necessary by the size of your living spaces at the Compound. You can see Steve tense up, clearly uncomfortable with the hinted, benign falsehood.

“Oh, but I must have both of these, too! How much?” you rush to say, pulling out your wallet and holding them up next to the one the owner pressed into Steve’s hand. It feels like your responsibility to meet the men in the middle.

“This is so we can see them from all angles, you understand,” Steve says.

“Of course!” the man says, a secretive smile playing on his lips. “Three is a good number, and I wish you a successful day!”

Steve’s cheeks have a distinct pinkish tinge to them for the next set of booths, but you avoid teasing him about it. This is not the first time someone’s misidentified the two of you as married, and you’ve always tread very carefully during those moments. Have you dreamed about marrying Steve Rogers? God, yes. You’d never say anything though. Proposing to Captain America is almost a national sport, something you’ve witnessed firsthand. Heck, you wouldn’t be surprised if he rejected you out of habit if you tried proposing.

It does look like you’ll both get to dodge your more famous secondary identities today. A lot of that is thanks to Tony’s fleet of look-alike cars, his insane security for the whole campus, and the way Steve can somehow dress and look like a regular, if burly country guy. However it’s happened, you’re incredibly grateful that your relationship has skated under the press radar. You suspect that Steve’s ‘couple behavior’ this morning is a result of happiness, holiday cheer, and perceived anonymity (you like the scruff he’s sported these past weeks, but… come to think of it, you wonder if he grew it just for that extra layer of obfuscation. Cap doesn’t quite pull National Icon status with hints of a beard, after all).

After forty minutes of happily wandering from booth to booth and window display to window display, the two of you decide to partake in the reason why everyone’s there so early in the morning: Christmas pastry from one of the best bakeries in central New York.

The town has set up a charming eating area just off the central square in a church parking lot. There are evergreen trees lining one side, each decorated in a different (sometimes chaotic) style and heavily festooned with lights. The picnic tables are all red and green, and hanging from a few of the arching lightposts is a bundle of familiar-looking plant-life. Steve sends you to snag a seat ahead of him while he waits in line, and when he comes back, he’s got twice as many goodies as you expected, all piled up on one plate.

“They all have a label on them saying ‘Mistle-hug,’” he says, standing at the end of the table. “I have two plates’ worth here, but they were much more stable like this.”

“How are we going to eat all this?” you ask, delighted nonetheless. You take the plate and carefully liberate the second stacked plate so you can distribute the bounty evenly, but Steve doesn’t hasn’t sat down yet. “If you don’t come pick out what you want, I’m going to get greedy!” you lie in a singsong voice. All he does in response is say your name softly.

“What are you--” you ask as you straighten up and look over at him. He’s standing at almost battle stance, frozen still with one hand tucked into the inside of his jacket. You immediately see the beautiful pattern the snow’s made on his shoulder, and pop to your feet with your phone.

“Wait, that’s not--” Steve says in a bewildered voice, his brows adorably furrowed even when you show him the picture.

“Here,” you say impudently, reaching up to kiss at his shoulder and thus melt the ‘offending’ snowflake art so he can feel free to sit down. “All perfect now.”

“You’re completely right,” Steve says. There’s something odd in the tenor of his voice-- and then suddenly he’s on one knee in front of you, pulling that hand out of his coat pocket with a recognizably-sized box.

You’ve got tears in your eyes, flowers blooming in your heart, and powdered sugar on your hands, which is why you’d chosen to kiss the snow off instead of brush it, but then Steve starts to speak.

“I was going to do this by the big tree, but then it hit me-- I spent years locked in ice, and it was all because I was waiting for you to come kiss all the cold away. You’re everything I didn’t and couldn’t know I needed-- a warm smile, a fighting heart, a clever mind, and more than that, you make me feel smarter, stronger, and happier when I’m with you. Will you marry me?”

You can barely get the word ‘YES!’ out past the lump in your throat, but you’d started nodding as soon as he opened his mouth. Steve tugs the ring out of the box and slides it perfectly onto your finger before surging upwards, pulling you into a twirling, joyful hug that dances the two of you a good few feet away from your table.

“Look, they’re under the Mistle-hug!” some voice calls out, and Steve’s --your future husband’s-- chest starts shaking with laughter. He sets you down and you both look up. A mere centimeter above his head spins one of the fake mistletoe pieces, its label dislodged by your antics. A ‘Hug! Hug! Hug!’ chant starts from the growing crowd of onlookers, and you nod up at Steve, your heart in your eyes.

“Don’t mind if I do!” he quips, engulfing you in a bear hug that leaves your newly-adorned left hand once again resting right on his chest. At the very edges of the roaring in your ears you hear a few people correctly guess who the two of you are, but you’re too delighted to mind.

A half hour later, when most of the well-wishers are finished offering their advice, encouragements, and pieces of paper for Steve to autograph, you notice that you’d left a powdered sugar outline on his coat.

“Oops, sorry about that,” you tell Steve, nodding at the handprint and grabbing a wreath-adorned paper napkin to dip it in your cider to wash it off.

“Leave it,” he says, stopping you with a possessive little thumb swipe across the ring he’d placed on your finger. “Feels like it belongs there, just like you, sweetheart.”

You want to tell him all the ways you love him, all the things he’s made better in your life, all the demons he’s conquered for you simply by being Steve Rogers, but you’re speechless. All at once, the perfect tension-breaker hits you, and you can’t help but laugh.

“What is it?” Steve asks in a wary, amused tone. It’s another sign of how well you know each other.

“Can we try to convince Tony that I get to take the name Mrs. America?"

As it turns out, that’s exactly what most of the next day’s news articles call you.

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cookies]

Jimin isn't sure anymore what to think about you and Jungkook. But maybe tonight he realizes something.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, some Angst in this, major fluff too, christmas!!!

Wordcount: 3.1k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jimin has no idea how to talk to you anymore.

It’s not like you became an entirely different person overnight, or as if Jungkook actively keeps him away from you- it’s just.. awkward. He’s seen you search online for jobs, something you’ve never done before, or at least you’ve never actually seemed to be interested in that. And neither has he ever wanted you to do get one- he’s making enough money for the both of you, you don’t have to provide for yourself.

But he believes that Jungkook might have something to do with it.

“jiminie?” You say, skipping towards him to put your phone down, a page opened. “can you drive me to my job interview tomorrow?” You ask, and Jimin frowns, looking at the page on your phone.

It's an email. You’ve been apparently asking for a job at a local grocery store to just help stock the shelves and such, but Jimin worries. “are you sure?” He asks, and you deflate quite a bit. “eight hours a day is a bit much to start with..” he says, and you huff, slumping over onto the kitchen counter.

“But I wanna have my own money too…” you mumble, complaining when the door opens, Yoongi entering.

“But baby you don’t have to? Just tell me how much you need and I’ll give it to you.” Jimin says, earning some attention from Yoongi who gets himself a bottle of cold coffee from the fridge.

“But then- noo, that’s not right!” You huff, tail smacking against your chair you’re sitting on. “no, I need my own for that!” You complain. “eight hours isn’t a lot! I can do that!”

“Can I look at it?” yoongi asks, and Jimin slides the phone over with a sigh. “eight hours five days a week. Have you ever worked before?” He wonders, and you sheepishly shake your head. “then eight hours might be a bit much as a start. Don’t they offer part time positions?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I’ll get less money then though..” you say disappointed, leaning back a big as your legs swing around.

“Work your way up then.” Yoongi encourages. “it’s a good job, decent pay even as part time.” He mumbles, looking through the job description. “I’d like to look over the contract before you sign it though. Just to make sure it’s all good.” He says, turning around to throw the bottle in the trash.

Jimin notices instantly how you look at Yoongi.

“There’s my princess!” Jungkook however breaks through the moment, picking you up from the chair you’re sitting on to hug you, tail wagging with excitement. He’s apparently just come home from work to pick you up- like he always does.

These days, the moment Jungkook is available, you’re gone out of sight.

Yoongi has already slowly brought up the topic of potentially changing the living situations permanently in the future- switching around so to speak, with Jungkook and you living in one house, while Jimin and Yoongi occupy the other. Of course, this wouldn’t be official due to the fact that both Jungkook and you are still hybrids and therefore legally not allowed to rent or own any land or property, but it could still work as long as the paperwork stays the way it is right now. Jimin isn’t really sure if he likes the idea.

He knows it’s inevitable, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.

Jungkook and you are gone as quickly as always, with the dog hybrid helping you wrap your scarf around your neck to keep you warm outside. He’s taking you for a bit of a date- he’s doing that a lot in fact. But especially now- with Christmas fast approaching and your love for all things sweet, it’s the perfect time to spoil you rotten.

You don’t tell him about your job hunting. You kind of want it to stay a bit of a secret.

“Do you know what you’d like as a Christmas present yet?” He wonders, warm hand holding yours as he swings them a bit, both of you walking through the busy streets full of food stalls and advertisements. You think a little, unsure.

“I don’t know.” You admit. Jimin and you always exchanged tiny presents, never truly having to think about what to gift the other.

“hm, I’ll have to think of something then.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand a second before he looks ahead again.

Back home, Jimin and Yoongi are arguing once again. “I’m just saying- what if they can’t keep the house tidy? She’s pretty messy..” jimin worries.

“Jungkook will get her to clean up, don’t worry he’s a bit chaotic but they’ll manage.” He easily defends. “jimin, I know it’s hard to let go but-“ he sighs when Jimin turns around, facing away from him. “-she’ll stay close? Literally next door.” He offers.

But it’s not enough. He wants you home.

“She’s already looking for a job. She clearly must be thinking of it too.” Yoongi says. “You can’t keep that away from her. She deserves that freedom.”

“She never worked before. She wont last.” Jimin says, sitting down again to put his head in his hands. “I don’t want her to go through that feeling of failure. She’s fine as it is- why does she suddenly want her own money? Just because Jungkook works?” He whines, and Yoongi shrugs, because he has an idea as to why you could be doing this.

“Does it really matter?” the older male says, sitting down as well. “this isn’t about the money, or the work, or the house, and you know this.” He tries to reason. “it’s about the fact that you don’t want her to leave.”

“Why can’t I have you both?” jimin softly complains. “it feels like I have to choose. Like.. I’d have to take Jungkook away from her to get her back.” He reveals his feelings, making Yoongi stay silent.

Because there’s really nothing he could say to make him feel any better.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Yoongi waits for you in the car as you return from your job interview, offering him the documents to read through. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?” yoongi asks, reading through the papers with a pair of glasses.

“Yeah, but I don’t.. want to just be lazy.” You mumble, playing with your new acrylics you got done with Jungkook. They’re Christmas themed. “Jungkook.. works a lot. And he's always so proud.” You say quietly. “I know working in a grocery store isn’t as cool as his job but..”

Yoongi looks over at you, a gentle expression on his face. “You have a lot to be proud of too.” He says, giving the documents back to you. “and even just part time is already a big thing. You’re a different category than Jungkook, remember that.”

“How do you know?” You ask, surprised.

“both simple observation-“ He smiles a bit, before he flips a page of your document. “-and the ability to read.” He chuckles, causing you to become a bit shy now.

He's right. It’s all written down right there.

“You’re right in the middle of categories. That’s got to be confusing.” He gently tells you. “Go slow and steady. They offer a training day, take it. I’ll bring you and pick you up, and then we’ll decide whether or not you’ll sign it, okay?” He asks, and you nod, watching him drive home in silence.

The moment you both step out in front of his house, you do something unique-

You hug him, an actual, full on hug, arms wrapped around him as you rub your cheek on his chest to scent him. “thanks.” You mumble, and Yoongi awkwardly pats your head, before you run off at the sight of Jungkook after giving yoongi the documents, as the dog hybrid is seen opening the front door to greet you.

“Well, that’s new.” Jimin hums. “is she growing closer to everyone but me now?” He half-jokes- though yoongi can hear some genuine insecurities.

“I think it’s simply evening out, Jimin.” Yoongi tries to explain. “see it like that. Her attention is like a bottle of water. And before, it was all just filling one cup- yours.” He says as they’re both inside the kitchen now, him taking out two glasses and a bottle of water. “But now, there’s more cups to fill. And Jungkook’s simply gets a bit more from her.. well, because it’s a special cup, you could say.” He chuckles.

“I was just as spoiled, huh.” Jimin sighs, taking the glass of water from him, staring at it.

“Pretty much. But just like her, you’ll adapt.” He gently hums, hand on his. “it’s just a bit tough right now. And hey-“ he says, leaning over the table a bit to get closer, faces only inches apart.

“-You’ve got your own special cup too, no?”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook and you cuddle on the sofa, when he notices it again.

Sometimes, whenever you’re close like this, or he offers you just a tad bit too much physical affection, you seem to become almost drunk off of it. He’s noticed it in public too, whenever he hugs you fully and gives you a lot of kisses or even just a hand on your back running up and down a bit too often. Now, he knows that cat hybrids can get excited from a lot of physical contact- but you seem especially sensitive.

Almost as if you’re not the same category as himself.

He doesn’t really know how to ask you, considering that it might be a touchy subject- but he’s also endlessly curious. Though, right now, it’s not a very pressing issue, as you’re both in the privacy of the home he technically shares with Yoongi. These days, your things have found their way into this house as well though- from clothes in the wash, blankets on the couch, or stuffed toys in his bedroom that you wanted to show off but forgot to take back.

He can’t say he doesn’t like it.

You’re happily purring against him, rolling over onto your back, sweater rising up a bit to reveal your stomach- and he can’t help himself as he leans over you to kiss the skin, cold top of his nose making you giggle. “You’re so pretty.” He chuckles as well, moving up to kiss your lips now. You’re buzzing with emotions now, tail swiping from side to side, smacking hard against the couch now as he charges you up again.

It's then that you bite him, and he notices it.

As if he looks at you for the first time so intensely, he realizes a few things. From the more pronounced feline shape of your pupils, to the more defined sharpened teeth of yours. It doesn’t just seem like you’re a different category- you most likely are.

And yet you seem so aware? Something doesn’t make sense- but right now, it’s not the moment to ask about it.

Instead, he watches how you let go of his arm again, only some slight marks present on his skin, proving that you didn’t mean to hurt him at all- that it was just a reaction to get rid of all that excitement. It’s cute to him, most of all, so he doesn’t really care about it, happy sighing along with you as you both entangle your legs together before you cuddle up, getting ready to nap a little.

It's Jungkook’s favorite part of the day.

If he didn’t like his job so much, he’d stay home with you all day every day, and he’d never get bored of anything at all as long as you’d be there at his side. But to spoil you how you deserve it, he needs money- so it’s currently for the best to be away for seven hours and be able to offer you the best he can.

And you deserve only the best, in his opinion.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You feel ashamed when Yoongi picks you up from your first day.

You had to take breaks way more often than you thought you’d have to, it was honestly stressful despite the fact that you did nothing but stock shelves for four hours. You’re being paid- but you also feel almost defeated. You can’t see yourself doing this long term- you feel absolutely drained.

“I know I’m repeating myself, but it’s fine to admit if it’s not for you.” Yoongi tells you, who just starts at your lap. “no shame in it.”

“Why can’t I be normal?” You mumble.

“Because no one is.” Yoongi simply chuckles. “some might fit a common standard. But there is really no ‘normal’. Only average at best.” He explains.

“then I wanna be average.” You say.

“But that’s not you.” He shrugs. “and we all like you the way you are.” He offers. “Jimin mentioned to me that you don’t like Christmas. Are you upset because of that right now?” He wonders, genuinely curious.

“Christmas.. I don’t know.” You tell him. “It’s all.. a lot. Like, the lights, and the noise, and everyone’s always on edge, and nervous..” you confess.

“Its stressful.” Yoongi concludes, and you nod.

“And I also always feel bad.” You admit. “because.. Jiminie always gets me a lot of presents, but all I can give him is.. stupid stuff I made myself.” You say.

“Ah, now I get why you want to work so badly.” Yoongi clicks his tongue.

“I want to give you guys nice stuff too!” You cry out, finally letting it all out to someone. “I want to make you happy too, but I can’t do anything, and I can’t buy anything! I can only take, that’s it!” You huff angrily, ears pinned back when you notice Yoongi pulling up to a small grocery store. “Huh?” You wonder, distracted, when Yoongi runs a hand over your head- the touch able to calm you down quite a bit as you look at him.

“you and Jimin are very similar, you know?” He smiles. “You need to be more open. Don’t suffer all by yourself- getting help isn’t admitting defeat.” He says. “how about you help with chores at home, and I’ll give you some pocket money for it?”

“But then I’ll take money from you again.” You deny.

“Its not that different from working. You do something, I’ll pay you. Simple.” He shrugs.

“…OK.” You nod, determined, as he reaches over to wipe your cheeks, tears staining them that you didn’t even notice falling.

“there we go.” He grins, before driving back home with you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

After Yoongi had informed the rest of them back home about your actual issues with the holiday season, Jungkook is now busy making sure the new Christmas lights aren’t blinking anymore but instead glowing steady, settings adjusted. He's almost done, when you rush into the house, almost tripping upstairs. “everything okay?” Jungkook calls, Jimin and Yoongi looking after you as well.

“Everything’s fine, promise!” You call down. “I just gotta wrap some stuff!!” You say, before something chatters, making Yoongi chuckle.

“So all those Years.. she didn’t hate Christmas at all?” jimin wonders.

“I mean, cats are pretty sensitive to stuff like that.” Jungkook mumbles with his head almost entirely stuck within the large Christmas tree. “and she’s a different category so- ouch!” He flinched when the pines prick him a little.

“I never thought that the difference in just seven percent is that big..” jimin shamefully sighs to himself.

“Well, you know now.” Yoongi reassures. “the past is the past. Let’s focus on the future.”

You’re downstairs a few hours later with a few colorful bandaids on your fingers from papercuts, watching the cookies in the oven bake with Jungkook hugging you. Some of them are shaped like cats, others like dogs. “can we eat them when they’re done?” You wonder.

“They’ll be hot though.” Jungkook chuckles. “you’ll burn your tongue.”

“I don’t wanna wait..” you huff.

“I’ll distract you then.” Jungkook suggests. “we can go put the presents under the tree while they cool down.” He says, letting go of you to take them out, careful not to have you get hurt.

“Okay.” You nod, fetching all the little things you wrapped admittedly a bit chaotically. Still, everyone’s proud- it’s not an easy task for you, and it’s clear that you had to take breaks multiple times in between wrapping to get your focus back on track. “mine look all crumpled up..” you pout, sitting on the floor in front of all the presents.

“You got drastically better though after the first two.” Yoongi comments. “that one there looks pretty neat.” He points to a small one, and you purr at that, before you turn. “You want some?” He offers the peeled tangerine, which you take.

“She’s warmed up to him.” Jimin notices from the sidelines, and Jungkook nods, tail wagging.

“Isn’t it great?” He says, though his tail slows when he notices Jimin’s rather somber look. “Why are you so against us loving her.?” He asks, and Jimin looks towards the dog hybrid in surprise.

“What?” He asks, caught off guard.

“I don’t know. But it feels like you’re.. upset that she’s befriending Yoongi. Or that she loves me now.” He explains.

“I’m not upset.” The older human denies. “I’m just.. scared.”

“Of what?” Jungkook calls, bewildered. “aren’t we a family now?”

A family.

Jimin hasn’t really thought of it that way- but Jungkook’s right. Yoongi and the dog hybrid aren’t taking you away, really- they’re more like an extension now, added on instead of pushed into the existing bond you two once had. The only one who pulled away had been himself.

“we all love her. In different ways.” Jungkook smiles. “the only one who’s making it weird is you.” He jokes, before he joins in, tugging on your tail playfully to get you to turn and tackle him, Yoongi sighing as he has to make sure you both don’t tumble right into the tree.

And that night, a switch had been flipped.

Jimin finally jumps over his own shadow again, helping you unwrap your presents, while also almost brought to tears when he receives yours. It’s all warm, and happy, and almost like you’re both back to normal again- but one look around him offers him a true picture of what it is now.

You both have always considered each other family-

You’re just a few more people now.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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maryleclerc · 1 year ago

Text

𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 — charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which after everything, charles and reader end up back together. become a family!

warning: use google translate, english is not my native language. this is the first ending, which mean reader will end up with charles, i’ll post 2nd ending soon. i do not claim any of these images as my own

i know i know, why’s so peaceful? i wanted if reader end up with carlos than i’ll make it more dramatic! so wait for my ending with carlos!!

please if you wanted to be tag in any of my future work, you can reply or dm me! thank you!! 🤍

read part 01, part 02

deuxmoi

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deuxmoi Our first image of Y/n and Charles today in NYC together. Taken by a fan today!!

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brianng If they are really back together, i’d be real happy to know that my wishes finally came true

ynscharlesleclerc They’ll always be the best couple of my heart

megancharles She’s ruining other people happiness, she’s the reason why Charles broke up with Meg

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername and 4,091,672 others

charles_leclerc I think today is a suitable day to write this article. Just like the rumors these past few weeks, about Y/n and I, I want to confirm that Y/n and I are back together and we are very happy now. We also prepare together to welcome our little angel. Also thank you for all of your concern

tagged: yourusername

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ynusernamefan I am happy for you

charlessgoddess It’s seems like this is their fate, after so many things had happen to both of them, they still find their ways to get back together without even trying

yourusername

Liked by yoursisterusername, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername Sharing all of my favorite saved in my gallery while enjoying few weeks left in my last sem 🤍

tagged: yoursisterusername

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uhbbjorn_ What’s your favorite part of being pregnant Y/n?

⤷ yourusername The most favorite part of being pregnant is when you can feel the baby’s kicking

jenniej__ Have you had any ideas for the baby name yet?

⤷ yourusername Actually me and Charles both like the name Ceres and Agnes, but haven’t will fit her

charles_leclerc with yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 6,180,044 others

yourusername Ceres Faye Leclerc decided to come on her own schedule 4 weeks early. Born 12/20 at 20:20 👶🏻🧸 and her papa @charles_leclerc was made it in time.

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arthur_leclerc ❤️ my niece

geeherst Congratulations and blessing! This is so incredible

kathykeeth She’s so little, I can’t 🥹

shhanann Her name feel so like goddess

wired

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wired [HIGHLIGHT] Some of the most cutes moment of Autocomplete Interview Couple Edition with Y/n and Charles Leclerc today.

CHARLES: Hi! I’m Charles Leclerc

Y/N: I’m Y/n Y/l/n soon to Y/n Leclerc and today we’re with WIRED Autocomplete Interview

BOTH: Family Edition

Q: Have you ever google yourself?

Y/N: Oh yes I have, only once

CHARLES: I never google myself —

Y/N: Why?

CHARLES: I mean… I don’t know

Y/N: Okay first question, are you ready Charles?

CHARLES: More than ready soon-to-be Mrs. Leclerc

Y/N: [Chuckle] Stop it, first question “Is Y/n Y/l/n single?”— Well guess what, I’m still available

CHARLES: What? No you’re not, you’re mine [Laugh]

Y/N: Okay okay I’m just kidding, so is Y/n single? No, I’m not single and already engage to this gorgeous man sitting next to me

CHARLES: Next up “Is Charles Leclerc nice?”

CHARLES: I don’t know, ask her [pointed at Y/n]

Y/N: Yes he’s the nicest person I’ve ever met

Y/N: “How did Charles and Y/n met?”

CHARLES: Well we met through Y/n mom, like everyone already knows. So it’s was on Christmas Eve and my family just casually having dinner together at this restaurent called and then all of a sudden my mom just point at Y/n whom also sitting with her family and said “Oh my god, Charles ressemble à un ange, va lui parler, Charles” which mean “Charles she look like an angel, go talk to her, Charles” and everything started from there.

Y/N: [Laugh] Yea, I remember that I heard something in French and just right the moment I look up, I saw his face. But there is something I haven’t told you, that when I step into that restaurent I already like really like into you.

CHARLES: Awww I know you do had crush on me baby

CHARLES: Next question is “How many childens do Charles and Y/n have?”

CHARLES: We have a daughter and her name is Ceres Faye Leclerc, she’s my treasure

Y/N: And she’s a spitting image of Charles

Y/N: “How many children do Charles want?”

CHARLES: I’m a family guy you know, I got to say that my ideal is to have 3 kids but —

Y/N: Wow that’s take lots of work to do Charles

CHARLES: But after witnessing what Y/n went through during the birth of Ceres, and all the difficulties that came with it after giving birth, I have reconsidered this. Actually, for me, how many children I want is not as important as whether Y/n wants it or not. After all, the one who gives birth is still Y/n not me, so I always prioritize her choice.

Link in bio for full WIRED Autocomplete Interview with Y/n and Charles Leclerc

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charles_leclerc Thank you WIRED for the best Interview 🙌🙌

yourusername We have so much fun time with WIRED Autocomplete Interview. Thank you WIRED!!🙌

helenaandersson THEY’RE ENGAGE!!!

lulnan One of the best interview WIRED had done so far!!

macharlesitan Never knew Charles could be this sweet

kitt._ I need a man like him in my life 😩

⤷ alexandraandersson Too sad, a man like him on this planet are RARE

( taglist ) @janeholt3 @formulas-bitch @celestialams @aundercover @1655clean @amalialeclerc

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #carlos sainz fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc smau!#charles leclerc one shot

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beomiracles · 15 days ago

Note

for the advent calendar; uh idol of choice and reader decorate their first home together for the season and said idol probs helps them put the star on top of the tree, just kinda cozy fluffy vibes ♡♡

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄'𝐒; 𝓐𝓓𝓥𝓔𝓝𝓣 𝓒𝓐𝓛𝓔𝓝𝓓𝓐𝓡 NUMBER 11 ; ❝𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬❞

“Wouldn’t wanna ruin what you’ve worked so hard for.” He kisses the top of your head, ignoring your grumbling protests as you still attempt to reach the top. “I’m not!” You object in a snappy tone.

pairings — hueningkai x fem!reader warnings — just very cute, and um cute :3

#serene adds ✎.. decorating the tree is my favourite part of the holiday hands down!

⸝⸝

“No, no, no, you can’t hang a red one next to a silver one!” You exclaim, snatching the ornament from Kai’s hands as you move around the large tree, finding a suitable spot for the decoration. — “Oh”, he exhales, his brows knitted into an almost endearing frown as he watches you scurry about. He glances toward the large box on the coffee table, eyeing the string of lights that you were to wrap around the whole thing.

“I can do that”, he says as he points to the long cable. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you follow his train of thought, giving the suggestion a moment of consideration before nodding. Kai sighs in relief, decorating with you felt more like walking on a minefield, he never knew when he might misstep and make you blow up.

Gathering the long string of lights in his hands, he begins to untangle it, watching as you hum to the holiday songs playing from the speaker in the kitchen. You add a few pine cones, topping the whole thing off with a few candy canes. — While Kai works the lights around the entirety of the Christmas tree.

Your probing gaze might as well leave a permanent hole in his neck, and Kai nearly starts sweating as he swallows a gulp. Only when he’s done, and you’ve inserted the end of the cable into an outlet, does he exhale. The tree basks in a warm yellow light, and the smile immediately spreading across your lips makes the struggle worth his while.

“I’ll go check on the gingerbread cookies”, he says before slipping back into the kitchen. You merely hum, far too busy with trying to think of what was missing. The tree looked perfect, yet it was lacking something, but what. — Returning to the box stashed with decorations, you rummage through it for a good minute before finally finding what you’d been subconsciously looking for.

The little star, of course.

Twisting it in your hands, you smile to yourself. The bright ornament was old and worn out, having passed through generations of generations within your family. Now it was in your hands, yours and Kai’s. A warm, almost giddy feeling spreads inside your chest, making your heart flutter as you approach the tree.

Standing on your very tip toes, you reach for the top, huffing when the branches slip from your grasp, snapping back up and out of reach. “Piece of shit”, you mutter under your breath, “where’s the christmas spirit in this?” — Leaning forward slightly, you try your luck once more, but to no avail. Now on one foot, you’re on the verge of crashing against the colorful ornaments, wobbling back and forth as your arm stretches as far as it allows.

You yelp when a large hand suddenly appears on your waist. “Woah there”, Kai’s voice is a warm puff of air against your ear as he catches you just in time. “Careful”, he murmurs, bringing your back flush against his chest, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin what you’ve worked so hard for.” He kisses the top of your head, ignoring your grumbling protests as you still attempt to reach the top. “I’m not!” You object in a snappy tone.

Kai hums, his other hand trailing along your outstretched arm, plucking the star from your fingers, “Sure you’re not.” — He chuckles to himself, placing the star up top with little difficulty and you feel yourself turn slightly bitter at his accomplishment.

“Oh come on, it looks perfect”, he says, wrapping his arms around you as he takes a step back. With critical eyes you scan the tree once more, lips pursing as you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “I suppose we did an okay job..” You state, scratching the side of your neck with a small frown.

Kai laughs, a warm and happy laugh, it makes your heart skip a beat. “I’ll take it”, he says as he presses a kiss to your cheek. You bite back a small grin, twisting in his arms as you turn to face him. “How are the cookies coming along?” You wonder, wiping the flour that had somehow ended up on his cheek. Kai’s laughter immediately dies down as his head snaps in the direction of the kitchen.

“Fuck.”

taglist ✎... @liaatiny @izzyy-stuff @heeambi @saejinniestar @lickingan0rchid @hyunelixbun @lunesdesire @n0-thisispatrick @tyunderella @lilbrorufr @ezeert @blossommi @hyunj00 @beestvng @buttrry

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

#beomiracles ₊˚⊹ ᰔ #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai x you #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai fanfic #hueningkai imagines #txt x you #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt fanfic #txt drabble #hueningkai drabble #kpop drabble #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines

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piplup335 · 7 months ago

Text

Subspace x reader! (angst lmao)

HELLO , F E L L A S

I know I said I’d work on requests, but I HAD to finish this up 😭

mainly because SOMEONE (I’M LOOKING AT YA, @sourle) decided to write Valk angst and I decided I’d probably hop on the bandwagon and write Subspace angst :D

this is my first time writing angst, so idk if it’s good ;-; ehhh, I did what I could LMAO

anyway, enjoy :D

honourable mentions here!

@subspacekisser1

@lunarwashere

@sourle

The crackling of the flames in the fireplace soothed your mind as you snuggled up to Subspace.

"Long day today, Subspace? How's work at the lab?"

The masked scientist glanced up at you with a groggy expression.

"Hm?? Oh...not too bad..."

He yawned.

"...just the usual lab stuff. There was also this chemical that somehow melted through the vial today...just a poison I'm working on currently. Reacted with another reagent and nearly burnt down the lab. It smelt funny too...but hey, the Biografts helped me clean it up!!"

You couldn't see it through his mask, but judging by his one visible eye closing and his cheekbones raising, you could tell he was smiling.

"I love you, (Y/n)...I feel so tired right now..."

"Awww...I love you too, Subspace...tomorrow's Christmas...wanna go to that one cat cafe? So you can catch a break?"

Subspace nuzzled into the crook of your neck. his warm breath lightly tickling your collarbone.

"I'd love that, dear..."

Subspace fell asleep in your arms as you lay on the couch, watching the flames dance around the firewood, the bright, formless shapes slowly reducing the wooden sticks to nothing but ashes.

The crackling of the flames and their mesmerising movements distracted you from the fact that your boyfriend was barely breathing.

The following morning, you woke up to your boyfriend still lying beside you.

He looked so damn adorable to you. His one visible eye was closed, and a few strands of his soft hair fell over his face. Sometimes you wished you could remove his gas mask just to caress his cheek…but he told you before not to do it, and you wanted to respect his wishes.

You gave your boyfriend a loving kiss on the forehead as you slowly slid off the couch, careful not to wake him up.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

You walked into the kitchen so that you could start preparing breakfast for the two of you.

Subspace couldn’t taste anything and always insisted on eating whatever was available, but you decided to change that today. You woke up earlier than him, and this time you'd get a say as to what he would eat.

And this time, you were determined to make him something a little more filling instead of just a slice of bread or two. You wanted to make him eggs and bacon- a dish he absolutely loved eating before the entire lab incident.

During those days, when you were cooking breakfast, Subspace would look at you with those pleading puppy eyes to make him bacon and eggs, completely disregarding and ignoring whatever alternatives you offered.

And you being you, you couldn’t resist his cute expression.

It was unlike him to enjoy such a simple dish, but hey- you still loved him.

As you were cooking in the kitchen, you felt a tug on your sleeve.

You turned to your left and was met with the sight of your beloved boyfriend standing next to you.

“Darling? Can we not have pancakes today? Do we have any more eggs left?”

You laughed, amused at his groggy, half-asleep expression.

“Subspace, you’ve been eating that same old thing for a week now. When will you ever get sick of it?”

“…never…so are there any eggs left?”

“Probably. But could you try something else for a change?"

Subspace hugged your side, his actions sluggish in his given state.

"I don't wanna...please, babe?"

He looked at you with those loving eyes...that loving expression on his face you could never resist.

You sighed, admitting defeat.

"Fine, fine, I’ll go prepare it for you later…I love you, Subspace. I always will.”

You couldn't say no to his request. To others, Subspace was a renowned scientist who made multiple contributions to Blackrock. They saw him as someone who had helped Blackrock advance their military, someone who had helped multiple residents improve their lives for the better. He was a hardened scientist who pushed through many sleepless nights to make Blackrock a slightly better place than the day before.

To you, Subspace was just an adorable bean you would not hesitate to kill for.

Your boyfriend was too adorable, too precious for this world...and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around his figure in a hug.

"I love you, Subspace..."

Subspace didn't reply, but his actions said it all. You felt his arms slowly move from his side to wrap around your waist.

“…I love you too, babe…what’s that smell?”

A glance at the stove and the steady flow of smoke was all it took for you to get your answer.

“NO- my pancakes!”

You recalled the memory with such fondness. Even after the laboratory disaster your boyfriend went through, he was still the same loving demon you knew. Sure, he acted like a crazed scientist sometimes, but you knew your boyfriend was still the same sweetheart you knew all those years ago.

You spent more than an hour trying to make breakfast...because you spent 45 minutes looking back on and reminiscing about the past.

As you set the last piece of bacon on the plate, you smiled to yourself.

"Honey? Breakfast's ready!"

Usually, when you made breakfast for him, he'd immediately come rushing to the kitchen just to scarf down whatever you prepared for him with his signature grin on his face.

But just like you had different plans for Subspace, fate had different plans for the two of you.

This time, there wasn't a single sound coming from the living room. The fire was extinguished right before you fell asleep, but you wished the therapeutic crackling of the flames followed you into the early hours of the morning for a bit of comfort.

"Honey?"

Still no response. Now you were concerned.

Was he okay?

You, being the concerned girlfriend you were, went outside to check on him.

You shook him.

"Subspace? Please...wake up!"

You half-expected him to jump at you with that big, goofy grin on his face that you loved seeing so much. You expected to jump backwards in fright from the scare, only for Subspace to catch you in his arms as he pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

But that moment never came. Upon further inspection, you mentally facepalmed at your ignorance, cursing at yourself for not seeing the signs that something was wrong.

The once hot pink crystal floating above Subspace was nothing more but a dull pink, most of the colour gone. The once gleaming radiance of the crystal was now nothing but a dull glow.

You immediately checked his pulse. It was there...but barely. You sprinted to your phone, nearly tripping over your own feet in a frenzied panic. A quick dial later, you were arranging for an ambulance to the nearest hospital.

All you could do then was simply cradle your boyfriend's near-lifeless body in your arms and pray to whichever deity would listen.

Beep...beep...beep...

The steady sound of the hospital monitors filled the room. It had been like that for the past few hours or so.

When the doctors in the ambulance did a more thorough check on him, they determined that Subspace needed emergency surgery. You were not sure why, but they said that it was due to "severe poisoning".

Now, here you were, seated on a chair next to your still-unconscious boyfriend, waiting for the doctors to return with whatever results they had to offer. You sat in your chair, glancing at your boyfriend from time to time, hoping that the crystal between his horns would shine bright like it once did.

The sound of the door opening pulled you out of your thoughts. One of the doctors walked into the room...and he had a grim expression on his face.

"Doctor! How is he?"

The doctor let out a sigh. One that carried not hopes for the future, but carried acceptance- a sign that they had tried everything, and yet...

"I'm sorry. Your beloved will not make it."

And that was the nail in the coffin for you- the statement that confirmed your worst fears.

"Can I say goodbye to him, at least? Will he wake up?"

"No. He won't wake up. We've done a thorough and complete checkup on him. His given condition- his rot, that is, somehow reacted with more fumes inside his body. We've investigated them, and it seems that these fumes were inhaled quite recently. Regardless, it has worsened his state, causing the majority of his body to either shut down or stop working entirely. You have two choices. He does not have any known family members, so we'll leave this decision to you."

At the doctor's next words, you did not want to say anything. You did not want to accept that this was your reality- these were two decisions that you could not choose between. You knew that none of these choices would be a correct decision...they would all have harsh downsides.

"Either we pull the plug now and he dies a peaceful death, or we can give him further treatment to try and save him. The chances of his survival from this point on are low, and even if he does survive and wake up, the rest of his life will likely be painful for him to endure."

You loved Subspace...you loved him so much, and you didn't want to let him go just yet. There was so much you wanted to do with him. You wanted to finally stay with him instead of one of you just staying over at the other’s house for sleepovers now and then. You wanted to travel the Inpherno with him, just to see all the marvels the world had to offer. You wanted to be by his side for the rest of your life and wake up by his side just to hug him close to you, praising the gods for such a wonderful spouse.

And now you couldn't. Not with Subspace's condition.

You didn't want to let him go just yet.

But then again, you loved him. You wanted the best for him.

And the best route for him to go down wasn’t one where he’d be suffering for the rest of his life.

You wanted him to live happily, not live in constant pain.

You knew your decision.

December 31. Almost a week after you made your decision.

Snowflakes fell from the sky outside, coating the ground in a layer of snow.

Within the comfort of your house, the flames crackled in the fireplace, consuming everything it touched.

But even the mesmerising movements of the flames couldn’t distract you from your thoughts. Not after what happened.

Beep…

That final, high-pitched sound. That damn, cursed sound. You knew that single beep would haunt you for years to come. What you did was for your boyfriend’s sake, but at what cost?

“5…4…3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”

You could hear the cheers of Blackrock’s residents from your home as fireworks were launched into the air, painting the black canvas of the sky with bursts of vibrant colour.

“Happy New Year, Subspace…”

A tear trickled down your cheek as you hugged a small photo frame to your chest.

It was the last photo you had of Subspace. A photo you took with him one day before his death.

“…I’ll always love you.”

aaaaand that’s another story down! hope u guys enjoyed! :D

…

*runs*

#phighting!#phighting #phighting x reader #subspace x reader #subspace x reader phighting #subspace phighting #subspace tripmine #phighting subspace #marinated seasoned and grilled to perfection!

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 17 days ago

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a/n: holiday fic #2 and william fic # 3 in the last few weeks 😭 this fic was wholly inspired by his commercial because i couldn’t stop imagining his difficulty putting UP the lights it that’s how he reacted to taking them down 😂 i know the fic takes place in november and is getting posted in december but fuck it we ball. anyway, i hope you enjoy!!!

word count: 2.4k

tw: dirty talk, innuendo

summary: it’s only november, but you insist on taking advantage of william’s presence by having him help put up the outside lights

Toronto weather can be unpredictable, which is why you’re fully taking advantage of the warm front that’s gracing the area to start putting up the outside Christmas decorations.

Yes, it’s only November 1st, but it could snow literally next weekend and then you’d be shit out of luck.

Plus, William is off for the next two days, minus practice, so you have to take advantage of the extra pair of hands.

“Älskling,” William murmurs, hands on your waist and lips on your neck, “we could do something more fun than hanging lights.”

You lean back against his chest, your fingers working to unknot a string of lights. His hips work lazily against yours, the bulge of his cock obvious against your ass. Especially when he pulls you close and holds you firmly in place to grind against your ass.

“Mmm,” you hum, shivers running down your spine with each rasp of his beard against your skin. “We can do that later. I want the lights up before the weather starts to suck.”

William’s mouth turns up in a smirk against your neck and his fingers dip under the waistband of your jeans. “How about we skip the lights and I suck on your clit until you see stars instead?” He huffs a laugh against your skin, ruffling your hair, and nips a little mark on your neck.

Your nipples pebble tightly and you suck in a shaky breath through your teeth. William’s words combined with the steady, rocking pressure of his cock against your ass are overwhelming. Abandoning the lights and with a more steady voice than you thought you were capable of, you turn in William’s arms so your ass is leaning against the counter and you can look into his eyes to say, “if you help me with the outside decorations, I’ll suck your dick until you beg for mercy.”

William’s throat bobs as he swallows, his blue eyes turning dark. He whines a little, pulling you close and burying his face in your hair. “You drive a hard bargain, älskling,” he grunts. With one final kiss below your ear, William pulls away and smirks at you, “hand me the lights.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” you chirp, pushing the bundle of lights into his arms with a bright smile.

Your boyfriend laughs and mutters, “only for you,” before wandering off to find his boots and a jacket.

Maybe buying a house in the beginning of the season wasn’t the smartest idea, since you’d been left on your own to unpack the contents of two apartments and decorate, but now that you’re settled in, it’s nice to have the room. Pablo and Bansky love the yard and running around the open concept first floor. William’s had fun christening the house by having sex with you on every available surface.

Besides the sex, your favorite part of the new house is the wrap around porch with its room for oversized outdoor couches and armchairs - the perfect place to curl up on a gorgeous Toronto fall day with a mug of coffee and people watch.

You’re beyond excited to get the outside of the house decorated for the holidays. You have big plans that are likely bordering on delusions of grandeur, but you’ll deal with that if and when it comes.

Right now, you’re focusing on wrapping the extra long fake pine garland you’d bought to wrap around the porch railing with lights. You settle everything on the floor and drop into a cross-legged position to twist the lights and garland together. Pablo pads over with a stuffed dragon in his mouth and settles at your side, one paw on your thigh.

“Hi, buddy,” you murmur, scratching at his ears. “Where’s your brother?”

“Fuck, Banksy, no!” William’s shout carries through the screen door and you press your lips together to smother a laugh. Found him.

There’s half a dozen things the other dog could’ve gotten into, you just hope neither he nor William is hurt. You can hear a bark and William laughing which is probably a sign that everything is fine out there, so you return to your work on the lights and garland.

“You picked the better decorations to help with, Pablo,” you laugh, stroking the dog’s soft fur for a few minutes before returning to twisting the lights and garland back together. Pablo yawns and chews at his toy, clearly agreeing with you.

It doesn’t take too long for you to get the dozens of feet of garland ready to be hung. The faux greenery coils across the floor and Pablo’s batting at it with his paws, yipping excitedly. Whenever you try and tug it away, he lunges for it, totally all-in on this new fun game.

“Okay, cool it,” you sigh, tugging at his collar to get him to disengage with the garland. “William!” You shout for him through the door, needing him to come and help you get the garland outside.

“Little busy!” He shouts back, followed by a string of curses. “Can you whistle for Banksy? He’s right up my ass and it’s making this harder.”

You whistle for the other dog, calling his name and clapping until he comes trotting into the house with a delighted little bark. You drop to your knees and scratch his head too, cooing, “hi there baby, were you driving Daddy crazy outside?”

“These lights are driving Daddy crazy,” William shouts on a laugh.

“Don’t refer to yourself as Daddy,” you reply. “It’s weird.”

William’s head appears at the screen door, a shit eating grin splitting his face. “That’s not what you were saying the other night,” he reminds you as heat rises in your chest and cheeks. “I think I remember the exact opposite coming out of that mouth of yours.”

“I was delusional,” you cross your arms. “I had no idea what I was saying. Come take this garland.”

He comes inside, grabbing the garland off the floor, saying, “want me to remind you? Let’s see, there was ‘fuck, harder, Daddy’ and ‘come inside me, Daddy.’ Not to mention all of the pretty noises you were making.”

Arousal pools low in your belly, slicking your underwear. Your clit twitches and you cough to hide your sharp intake of breath. One of the dogs licks at your ankle, but you’re laser focused on William and the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

Smirking, he continues, “does that jog your memory, älskling? Or do you need a more hands-on reminder?”

He takes a step towards you and accidentally steps on a piece of the garland, fake pine needles crunching under his boot and reminding you what your plan for the day had been. You shake your head and narrow your eyes at him, “no way! You’re trying to distract me so you don’t have to help decorate.”

“Guilty,” William laughs, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. He darts forward and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Is it working?”

Yes.

“No,” you murmur. “I want the house decorated and then we can do whatever you want after that. Otherwise, I’m going to have to get up on the ladder during the week.”

You poke your lower lip out at him in a pout and William chuckles. With his free hand, he reaches out and thumbs your lower lip, murmuring, “such a bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you hum cheerfully, a smug little smile on your face. William kisses your puckered lips and gathers up the garland.

“At your command, my little brat,” he teases, sweeping out of the house with the garland and two dogs trailing after him.

“Thank you, karastë,” you shout after him, giggling.

You give up on any pretense of helping William with the outside decorations, instead heading for the kitchen to make cookies as a reward for him when he comes back inside. You experiment with a new to you recipe for oatmeal cookies with dried cranberries and white chocolate chips since it feels festive. While the mixer works, you dance absently at the counter to the constant stream of ABBA music playing in your head.

Your two favorite things to come out of Sweden are definitely the ‘70s band and the man outside hanging lights.

Once you pop the trays in the ovens, you decide to check in on William and see how everything is going.

“Oh!” You yelp, nearly stepping on your boyfriend. “What are you doing?”

He’s laid out on his stomach on the porch, head buried in his arms, lights tangled around his legs, and the dogs nowhere to be found. He groans and rolls onto his back to look up at you.

“I quit, I can’t do this, älskling,” he complains, kicking at the lights around his legs.

You cover your mouth to muffle a laugh. Taking a look around the porch, it does seem like William’s been defeated by the lights. The garland is on the porch railing, crookedly hanging off. The lights are uneven where they’re actually attached to the house and hanging off in most areas.

Squatting down next to him, you brush your hand through William’s hair, frowning sympathetically. “Maybe your talents don’t extend to outdoor decorating,” you murmur.

“The stupid shits don’t stay where they’re supposed to,” he grumbles. “I don’t care what it costs, pay someone to do it. Please.”

William pushes himself into a sitting position and tosses the lights off to the side, shaking his head and muttering to himself. You’ve never seen him this frazzled about something. Usually he’s calm, cool, and collected.

“I think you’ve earned the cookies I made,” you comment, standing up and stepping into his side. William wraps an arm around your shoulder and you nuzzle your nose against the flannel of his shirt.

“I’d rather the blow job,” William replies cheekily, yelping a laugh and jumping away from you when you pinch his side. “Ow, älskling, you promised!”

“Only if you hung the lights,” you gesture behind you at the carnage as you step back inside. “The quality of that job only gets you a dry hand job at best!”

“I’ll take it,” William deadpans, holding his expression for a second before bursting into laughter. It’s contagious and you start giggling too.

Still laughing, you lean your arms on the counter and shake your head. “You’re definitely not that desperate,” you murmur. But still, you curl your fingers loosely and give the air a few pumps, miming a hand job. “I could use some practice though, it’s been a minute since I made you fall apart with just my hands.”

William smirks at you and leans in across the counter. He raises an eyebrow and tracks the movement of your hand. “You know I’m not going to say no, love. You want to get those hands on me, you just have to ask,” he teases.

“Oh,” you drag the syllable out, “in that case…”

You step around the counter and into William’s space, your palms flat on his chest. “William,” you purr, smiling sweetly.

He hums, bringing his hands up to wrap around your wrists. He lifts each hand to his mouth, kissing your palms.

“Can I put…” you say slowly, “one of those giant Snoopy inflatables on the lawn?”

It takes a minute for your words to sink in and by the time it clicks in William’s brain, you’re laughing and dancing away from him.

“Hey!” He shouts your name on a laugh and gives chase, making you shriek every time he gets close. “Dirty trick, you little tease!”

William chases you into the living room and tumbles over the couch to catch you, pulling you flush against his chest, the both of you breathing hard. You’re laughing, gasping for air, and wriggling against him.

“Stop that,” he laughs, biting at your earlobe. “You, my love, have been a brat all day. It’s time for a little punishment.”

You can feel the bulge of his cock against your hip and your stomach flips with excitement. “What do you have in mind?” You ask, breathless with arousal.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” his voice is a low rumble, hands roaming over your stomach and breasts. “Starting with those lights outside.”

William captures both of your wrists in one big hand and holds them against your stomach. “Can’t have you moving when you’re getting a spanking,” he murmurs, kissing behind your ear.

Fresh heat pools in your stomach and your underwear are getting uncomfortably wet. You grind your ass back into William’s groin and he grunts, thrusting his hips forward.

Even just the thought of William tying you up has you creeping towards the edge, combined with the hard heat of his body at your back, you’re not sure you’ll last too long once he gets his hands on you.

“William,” you whimper, heat jackhammering in your chest with each press of his cock against the seam of your ass.

Any answer is drowned out by the sudden piercing shrill of the smoke alarm.

Acrid smoke hits your nose next.

You startle, realization that the cookies are burning like cold water to your system. You jump away from William, shouting about the cookies and grabbing an oven mitt to take the charred dough out of the oven.

William has the alarm turned off just as you’re tossing the ruined cookies in the trash.

You both stand in the kitchen, staring at each other in the sudden silence for a few heartbeats before bursting into laughter again. It’s that kind of crazed laughter that doesn’t stop, intensifying every time you look up and lock eyes with William.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, clutching your stomach. “Literally nothing has gone right today.”

You feel lightheaded from all the laughing, the faint haze of smoke still in the air.

William clears his throat and chuckles again. “How about we take the dogs and go out for dinner?” His eyes twinkle. “Wouldn’t want to risk burning down the house again.”

“I think that’s the best idea all day,” you agree, still laughing even as you gather up the dogs and load them into the car.

Later, while you’re eating dinner, you point out the lights that are strung up around the restaurant. With a cheeky smile, you comment, “maybe we should ask them who hung their lights? They did a good job.”

William just rolls his eyes at you and tosses a piece of bread in your direction.

Two days later, with William out of town for a game, you come back from work to find the entire outside of the house decorated and lit up. There’s even a Snoopy inflatable on the lawn.

Tears fill your eyes and your phone vibrates in your hand. You look down to see William’s text.

‘surprise, älskling! i love you, even if i never got that hand job 😂❤️‍🔥’

#william nylander #william nylander x reader #william nylander x you #william nylander fic #nhl fic

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soulofapatrick · 1 year ago

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Under the Mistletoe - Peter Hale x Femae Reader

Summary: Peter has to step outside during christmas celebrations and you follow him

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: None, just some pure Christmas fluff

Y/N’s POV

The Stilinski living room is an embodiment of cozy chaos—warmly lit by twinkling lights and filled with laughter that bounces off the walls. We're all gathered, the whole pack, tightly nestled onto every available surface. Couches are claimed by some, while others opt for the floor, sharing pillows and throws in a haphazard but comfortable manner. It's crowded, but the festive cheer keeps us close, shoulders brushing and smiles exchanged.

From the doorway, Dad, Melissa and Peter stand, observing the scene with amused expressions. Dad’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he leans against the doorframe, a mug of something warm in his hand, as Erica and Liam bicker over who the gift in Malia’s hand is for. Melissa exchanges a fond glance with him, her lips curving into a soft smile, while Peter’s gaze holds a mixture of amusement and something else—a tinge of sadness.

Peter’s eyes meet mine across the room, a brief but charged connection that sends an unexpected warmth cascading through me. Caught in the intensity of his gaze, I can’t help but feel my cheeks flush, and I quickly avert my eyes, focusing instead on the gift being launched my way by Scott.

As I peel away the layers of wrapping paper, a soft chuckle escapes me when I uncover a hoodie. But not just any hoodie—its a simple yet heartwarming statement piece. In bold letters, it reads “Best Pack Mom Ever!”

The room erupts into laughter and cheers, a chorus of voices expressing their approval and amusement at the gift. I can’t help but grin, feeling a warm rush of gratitude and affection for this pack that feels more and more like family with each passing day. Without a thought I pull it over my head and melt with love as it’s so fluffy and warm and oversized.

Glancing up again, I catch Peter’s eyes once again, this time softened with a gentle smile that reaches them. There’s a subtle depth in his gaze, a silent understanding that tugs at my heartstrings. His subtle nod and the ghost of a reassuring smile sends a flutter of warmth through me, easing any lingering nervousness.

Despite the festive cheer enveloping the room, a lingering sense of melancholy in Peter’s eyes doesn’t escape my notice. His smile, though warm, carries a weight that speaks volumes, and I can’t shake the feeling of a hidden sorrow behind it. As the laughter and chatter of the pack fills the air once more, I see Peter swallow hard, a visible lump forming in his throat. Without a word, he turns and quietly slips away, his departure unnoticed amidst the joyful chaos.

Squashed between Derek and Jordan, I feel a nudge of worry from the latter as I shift to get up. Patting Jordan’s knee with a reassuring smile, I offer a quick “I’ll be right back Jor.” Before making my way out onto the small front porch, where Peter stands, cloaked in shadows.

The night air is crisp, filled with a serene quiet that contrasts sharply with the festive buzz indoors. Outside, the world feels different—quieter, more contemplative—and it seems to match Peter’s pensive demeanour.

“Peter?” I call softly, stepping closer, the faint glow of the porch light casting a gentle illumination around us. He turns slightly at the sound of my voice, the moonlight painting his features in soft contrasts. There’s a vulnerability in the way he holds himself, a rawness that I’ve seldom seen, “I didn’t mean to intrude.” I offer, feeling a pang of uncertainty about stepping into his private moment.

His age meets mine a mixture of surprise and something akin to gratitude flickering in those intense blue eyes, “You didn’t,” he assures, his voice carrying a hint of appreciation.

Feeling the unspoken weight between us, I cautiously move closer until I’m standing at his side. Peter remains still, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his forearms resting against the edge of the porch. Without a word, I lean in, resting my head gently against his shoulder, a silent offering of comfort.

There’s a momentary pause, a heartbeat of anticipation, before Peter slowly turns his head, his breath brushing against my hair. Without a word, he leans in, burying his face in the soft strands, a subtle but profound gesture of seeking solace in the simple closeness. The wolves of the pack seem to do it a lot, as if they’re memorising my scent. I don’t mind it at this point, quite used to it and just wanting to make Peter smile again.

His strong arms, once unmoving, now wraps around me, pulling me closer into a gentle embrace. I feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a reassurance admits the silent turmoil within him.

Gently pulling back after a moment, just enough to meet his gaze, I sense a shift in peter’s demeanour. The shadow of sadness is still present, lingering in the depths of his bright blue eyes, but it’s fading, giving way to something else—something that sends my heart racing and my usually eloquent words scattering like autumn leaves.

His features, usually etched with an air of intensity and determination, soften in this moment of vulnerability. There’s a depth to his gaze that draws me in, an unspoken understanding that feels like a whispered secret shared between us.

I find myself entranced by the subtle play of moonlight on his angular features—the chiseled jawline, the faint scars, and those piercing eyes that seem to hold entire galaxies within them. It’s a sight I’ve admired from afar, a magnetic pull that has stirred a quiet longing within me for longer than I can remember.

My throat feels dry as I wet my sudden parched lips, nerves fluttering like a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. Being this close to him, feeling the warmth of his embrace and seeing the vulnerability in his expression, stirs emotions I’ve kept carefully hidden—a rush of affection and an undeniable attraction that refuses to be ignored.

As the moment lingers, I feel the shift in Peter—a subtle but distinct change in his demeanour. His suave facade seems to resurface, a shield to conceal the vulnerability he had briefly allowed me to see.

His hand lifts, cupping my cheek in a gesture that sends shivers down my spine. The rough pad of his thumb grazes over my bottom lip, a barely-there touch that ignites a flurry of sensations. I catch the flicker in his bright eyes, the way they linger on my lips before meeting my gaze once more. There’s a hesitation in his expression, a hint of conflict that dances in those intense blue eyes. "I should stop," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and restraint, a self-imposed barrier he seems hesitant to breach.

The words hang between us, heavy with unspoken desires and emotions. My heart races, caught between the yearning to lean into his touch and the fear of misunderstanding his intentions.

Caught in the charged atmosphere between us, my heart pounds louder in my ears, an erratic rhythm matching the intensity of the moment. With a surge of boldness fuelled by emotions I can no longer suppress, I act on impulse.

Without a second thought, I rise onto my tiptoes, closing the distance between us. My hands find their place on his shoulders, seeking support and anchoring myself as our lips finally meet. There’s a tender urgency in the kiss, a mingling of hesitance and longing, a culmination of unspoken emotions and desires.

Peter’s arms, strong and reassuring, wrap around me in response—one securely around my waist, drawing me closer, while the other cradles my head, holding me gently but firmly.

The touch of our lips sparks an electric current that courses through me, sending tingles down my spine and causing my entire being to tremble. His lips are soft against mine, a perfect harmony of warmth and reassurance, igniting a fire that spreads through every fibre of my being.

In that moment, there's a convergence of emotions—a sense of familiarity mingled with the exhilaration of something new and exhilarating. The kiss feels like coming home, yet exploring uncharted territory, a blend of comfort and passion that leaves me breathless.

I feel the tension in Peter's embrace ease, a silent affirmation of reciprocation. His kiss holds a tenderness that speaks volumes, a silent confession of emotions that words fail to express. It's a moment suspended in time, a revelation of desires and an acknowledgment of a connection that had silently thrived between us.

With a gentle breath against my lips, Peter murmurs, his voice barely audible yet carrying a weight of amusement, "There's mistletoe above us.”

A soft chuckle escapes me, muffled against the warmth of our lingering kiss. It's a rare sight, seeing a genuine smile grace Peter's lips, a fleeting but captivating moment that feels like a precious gift.

Breaking the kiss, we share a brief, lighthearted glance upward, confirming the small sprig of mistletoe hanging just overhead. It's an almost serendipitous detail, adding a whimsical touch to this unexpected but undeniably cherished moment. Our gazes meet again, and the air between us crackles with a newfound energy, a playful warmth contrasting the depth of emotions we've just shared. There's a silent understanding, an unspoken agreement to cherish this rare moment of vulnerability and connection.

Peter's thumb brushes over my cheek, a tender gesture that holds a promise of more unspoken conversations yet to come. His gaze lingers on mine, a silent reassurance in those intense blue eyes.

"I didn't expect this," he admits softly, a trace of vulnerability coloruing his tone, a rare glimpse of the man behind the walls he usually upholds, “I didn’t expect you to want me back, to feel the same way with our age gap.”

“I don’t care about that Creeperwolf,” I reply, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips, feeling the weight of the unspoken but shared sentiment between us, “Now come back inside and celebrate with me.”

“The others…”

“Peter Angus Hale, when have you cared what others think of you?”

“Alright Love, lead the way.”

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

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hotluncheddie · 11 months ago

Text

Memories of somethin' even smoking weed does not replace.

wc: 2.9k | cw: alcohol | rated: M | part: 1/2 | tags: pre s4 au, steve harrington centric, stobin soulmates, raised catholic steve harrington

part 2 | ao3

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

8:32pm January 3rd: Steve’s car

‘God stop complaining! It’s one party!’ Robin says, her exasperation at Steve finally boiling over.

Steve rolls his eyes, hard, wants to make sure she sees it. He’s stressed and uncomfortable and wants to be petty and petulant and complain because this night is going to end in him embarrassing himself somehow, he just knows it.

Robin makes just as much of a face back at him but then her eyes are full of concern. ‘You’ve just, been so mopey lately.’ she fiddles with her fingers, bites a nail even though that was her resolution. ‘and I know you say you haven’t been, but you know that I know, that you barely got out of bed on your days off over the holidays and that makes me sad.’ Robin laments, ripping his bitchiness off like a bandaid, seeing whats underneath.

Steve signs, defeated by her big beautiful brain. She is right, but. ‘Robbie. it was between Christmas and new year, there was nothing going on. What do you expect me to do? it’s literally time made for relaxing.’ Steves own exasperation falling away into something that just sounds tired. He’s so tired. And he hates it when she worries, he’s not, he’s still not used to it. Someone who cares, notices when he spends three days in bed because the thought of getting up when his parents are downstairs makes him want to puke. And, he loves her for it, but, sometimes it makes his skin crawl, makes him feel like he’s not good enough, not hiding well enough. Pitied.

‘But you don’t relax. You mope. You, like, wallow.’ She pokes his arm a couple times for emphasis, but her voice is softer, still a little sad. ‘And.’ she takes a deep breath. ‘I know you don’t want to talk about it. But I also know this time of year makes you miss Nancy.’

‘Oh God, Rob, please.’ Steve whines, desperate now. ‘Don’t start bringing up Nancy.’ He drags a hand down his face, that is the last thing he wants to talk about. Think about. Admit anything to anyone about.

She’s not, entirely wrong but Steve still hates hearing it. He does miss Nancy, or, well, misses her in theory. He doesn’t really miss her anymore. But, he misses being her boyfriend, a boyfriend. Being needed, and being held, as pathetic as that sounds.

‘I know. Just.’ Robin says, twisting in her seat to look at him looking at the road. ‘I just. I want you to have some fun dingus.’

Steve squeezes the steering wheel. He nods. Glancing at her and giving her enough of a smile that she knows not to feel bad. It’s really not her fault that this time of year makes him want to sink into a hole, makes him think about purgatory and black vines, what he wants for his future if both can exist.

‘It’ll just be some band kids there, a few stragglers, no one’s going to care that you’re there too.’ Robin explains. ‘Plus, if they say anything I’ll be there to defend you.’ And Steve can hear that care again, but its lighter, said through the joke. He lets his shoulders drop and Steve smiles for real. He can’t help it.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ he says, like she isn’t his everything. Glancing away from the road a second, Steve catches her smile. Happy she’s won but happier that he’s going to at least try and have fun.

‘And, don’t forget you promised to help me with seeing if any of the girls there are even remotely available to me.’ Robin sits back normally in her seat. Talking normally again, worry about her soulmate time over. ‘Plus, who knows, your new favourite customer might just be there too.’ She says into the window, head leaning on her palm.

‘Robin!’ Steve near shouts, scandalised that she’d bring that up.

Robin just cackles.

‘Man, you say a guys jeans fit him nice one time and then it’s all you hear about.’ He grumbles, pretending his cheeks aren’t flaming red. He really hopes any discomfort tonight has nothing to do with that. He almost prays on it. But monsters come out of walls so he stops himself.

Robin wriggles around in her seat, delighted by his suffering. ‘Hey! Hey! No, okay you ragged on me over Tammy! I can make fun of you for making goo goo eyes at Eddie Munson!’

9:00 January 3rd: Kitchen

Steve shivers as the heat from the house mixes with the cold evening air he just walked through. Robin at his side but she’s quickly swept up in a little crowd to say hellos. She looks for him but Steve just waves her on with a scrunch of his eyebrows and a gesture to the beer he wants to find a sport for.

The kitchen in strewn with bottles and cups and snacks, not a total disaster but people have definitely been helping themselves. Steve is a little laser focused on getting the cans set down so he can start on one, relax his nerves a bit, so he doesn’t even notice Eddie sitting on the counter until he nearly gets kneed in the crotch.

He takes a hasty step back and gives himself a mental shake, get out of his own head. Eddies smile looks amused, his eyes able to look so sharp. Steve swallows, grateful for Eddies silence.

‘Hey man. You want one?’ Steve offers Eddie a beer and makes a spot for them on the side.

Eddie takes it, nodding in thanks, their fingers don’t brush, Steve would know. ‘You looking for anything stronger tonight? like King Steve back in the day?’ Eddie asks, taking a drink, hair framing the long line of his neck.

The old name makes bile raise in his throat. Eddie didn’t mean it like that, probably, wouldn’t have said it if he’d known how much that name feels like a brand on Steves skin. Itchy and scarred. Like ‘Harrington’, like ‘Bullshit’, like something that makes people think they know him, like his body and self isn’t his own.

Steve looks away. ’Uh, nah, I’ll stick to the classics.’ Popping the lid and taking a long gulp, going for casual, slouching against the counter.

Eddie nods like it’s no big deal. ‘I won’t make this awkward by asking you about college. I know you know I’ve seen you at family video.’

‘Your late back on ‘Poltergeist’.’ Steve says without thinking. Winces, why is he acting like such a loser? ‘But uh, yeah. Thanks.’ He finishes lamely. No way any colleges wanted him on his concussion grades and zero extra curricular credits.

‘Shit, so you do actually do your job.’ Eddie shakes his head, like Steve had deeply wounded him, sarcastic and mocking, pretty little glint in his eye. But it still makes some ugly, desperate little part of Steve rear up and want to take it back, beg for forgiveness.

Steve drowns that thought and chugs the rest of his beer.

Someone must motion something to Eddie from one of the other rooms because he nods his head up in understanding. But before he goes he leans in closer to Steve, smirking. ‘Oh, and, don’t thank me yet. I also saw you in that sailor get up at the mall.’

Steve chokes on his spit, coughing and spluttering like an idiot.

‘Thanks for the beer.’ Eddie says, patting him once on the shoulder before hopping off the counter and into the throws of the party.

Steve watches him go, skin of his shoulder tingling through his sweater. He feels an itch, like he’s being watched and turns his head to find robin staring at him from where she’s still by the door, talking to friends. Her smile wicked.

Robins parting words from the car float back through his mind and make his stomach twist. ‘Lucky for you, Eddie makes goo good eyes right back.’ She’d said, quiet and teasing, and Steve hates her. her hates her.

It’s going to be a long night.

10:54 January 3rd: Staircase

It’s a little quieter at the front of the house.

It had been going pretty well and then someone mentioned Starcourt. A couple pairs of eyes flashed to him in recognition. Someone murmuring to another, mentioning Hop. And then Steves eyes were prickling and his wrists were tingling and he had to excuse himself. Squeezing Robins shoulder for her not to follow. Just a minute alone to breath. Sip his drink to get the copper to wash from his lips. Get his teeth back where they’re supposed to be.

Orange streetlights filter through the window of the front door. It catches the dust, makes it sparkle.

He thinks about midnight mass with his parents, their one Christmas plan that he’s not allowed to get out of. Thinks about how the light filtered through the stained glass, made patches of the floor look red. Thought about the ceiling of Starcourt, the taste of red metal on his tongue as the world spun.

Went up for communion and crossed himself. Looked up at the crucifix. Thought about how the gash that opened in Joyce’s living room was red. How somethings grow in darkness, in cracks and out of sinew. A nail bat ripping through skin.

He looks at the drink Robin made him as a joke, its almost wine coloured, a murky, deep red. It makes Steves insides twist, she didn’t mean it, she didn’t. But blood of the lamb is making the back of his eyelids flash red and brown, flash lightning and ash floating through the air. His nose filled with mould.

‘Yeesh what is that Harrington?’ Steve looks up, Eddie’s blocking some of the orange light, head haloed and face in shadow.

Steve looks back into the cup, seeing it for what it is again. Remembering how her face lit up with laughter as she dumped in whatever she could find, knowing it would be awful but knowing Steve would still drink it. She made it for him, how could he not?

He looks back up at Eddie, Steve can smell his cologne. It smells good. ‘Don’t ask, Robin made it.’ He waves his hand and tries to clear his head of red and black. The spirits mix with the beer and now his hands and feet tingle, he focuses on that, it’s nice.

Eddie eyes it warily. ’You wanna trade?’ and he holds up a beer, a different brand that the ones Steve brought, he has two, for some reason.

Steve looks into his cup, ‘Its honestly not that bad.’ He swirls the contents around a little, there’s something floating in it.

‘Seriously?’ Eddie asks. Steve looks up at him and his eyebrows have disappeared behind his bangs

Steve smiles, his lips tingling. ‘No.’ and his smile grows at Eddie laugh, he has dimples.

He looks at Eddie and decides, then, to take. See what he gets given. He can confess later.

The alcohol made a couple of the awkward conversations he had tonight bearable and the couple less awkward conversations he had enjoyable. Maybe it’ll do the same for him now. Steve takes the beer and places his other drink carefully on the stair behind where he’s sitting, makes a mental note to dump it out when he moves.

He shifts, sitting in a way he hopes looks casual, like he wasn’t just thinking about divine sacrifice. The staircase it wide and the carpet is soft, a nice place to take a break. A nice place to talk to a boy. A boy who makes his heart beat in his throat. Steve can confess later.

‘You run Hellfire right?’ He asks, sipping his beer and cataloguing again how the orange light shines on eddies hair, over his shoulder.

Eddie faces him fully, bobbing his head slightly to the music, Steve doesn’t recognise the song, he doesn’t think its one they play on the radio. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. like X-men’ Steve says.

Eddie blinks at him, but then the corners of his mouth curl and his eyelids droop and Steve feels too hot suddenly. ’Okay, I’m gonna need his majesty to explain how he knows about either of those.’

Swallowing, Steve goes for honest. ’Well first off you used to put new posters up every, like, two weeks man, kinda hard to ignore.’ Steve says, lifting up a finger. he paid attention, eddies doesn't need to know yet how much. But Steve paid attention.

Eddie stays silent, looks at him, eyes roaming over his face, lip still curled. Steve feels his adams apple bob.

‘Second, I babysit some of the dweebs who are current members.’ Steve lifts a second finger, takes another sip of beer. ‘And three, X-men is like super popular. And, like, super good.’ And Steve takes another drink, just because, just to help him be.

Eddies lips curl into a full smile, all teeth and a little tongue. He sips his own beer, looking away from Steve then back at him a couple times, like he thinks he’ll vanish, change before his very eyes. He shakes his head. ‘What changed with you man? I never expected any of that to ever come out of your mouth, like, ever.’ And eddies sounds kind of delighted, voice musical and tinkling.

Steve just shrugs, feels hot, Eddies voice too close to happy, words too close to praise. ‘Grew up a little, I guess.’ He crosses his arms, looks down at his shoes.

‘Yeah? That why no more parties?’ and Eddies voice is soft, Steve can feel his body heat, his knee by eddies hip.

‘I’m just not so big on, that much attention any more. That much noise.’ Steve says, looking back into Eddies face. Finds him staring, lips quirked in a little smile, softer, then before. Leaning his chin in his hands on the banister, leaning into Steves space.

‘So, you and Buckley, what’s that about?’ Eddies whispering now, like he knows it’s precious. The orange light kisses his cheek.

Steve clears his throat, whispers back. ’Summer job. We scooped ice cream and she, uh, scooped up my heart.’ he smiles, just from talking about her, thinking about them.

‘Oh.’ Eddie says, drawing away just slightly, eyes hardening in a way Steve hates.

He almost reaches out, something drastic, desperate. But he pulls back, fiddles with the tab on his can. ‘No, um. Not that kind of oh. I mean in, like, a friend way. Totally platonic oh.’

‘Right’ Eddie comes back, but it’s not quite the same, the moment lost. Steve feels a rosary between his knuckles.

‘Seriously, platonic soulmates. It’s a thing.’ He tries to lighten, tries to make Eddie read his mind the way robin does. It takes a moment, but then Eddie lets his eyes drink in Steves face again. His smile unfurling, sweet and pretty and different than before. He nods once, taking a drink. Looking away, cheekbones flushed pink.

Steve can confess later.

Robin comes barrelling down the hall calling out for Steve. But she skids to a halt when she sees Eddie. Then her eyes find Steve and she looks at him with raised eyebrows and barely contained glee bubbling under its surface. ‘Munson.’ She greets, eyes staying on Steve. ‘You’re late back on ‘Poltergeist.’

Eddie laughs, big and delighted. ‘Hey Buckley.’ He says. ‘Looking for your boy?’ but as he said that he’s gone back to the same position, still leaning on his hands, still looking right at Steve.

Steve feels his cheeks heat.

‘Ugh, not my boy. You are definitely not getting out your late fee for that.’ And she shoves him out of the way to get to Steve and grab his hand. ‘They want me to play beer pong, you’re on my team.’ And she’s pulling him up and away.

Steve cranes his neck back to give Eddie a little wave goodbye but he’s pushing off the banister, he’s following.

He walks slow, lazy, almost sauntering. Looking right at Steve still, with that little smirk. He knows. He knows. Steve feels the eucharist on his tongue. ‘What?’ Eddie asks, innocent but his smile isn’t. ‘I wanna watch.’ And Steve just squeezes Robins hand tighter, lets her pull him into the kitchen.

11:45 January 3rd: Kitchen

People cheer as Steve neatly sinks the ping pong ball into the final cup, Robin nearly jumping onto his back she’s so exited. The first couple games with Robin and some of her random band friends really weren't great, he drank a few times, helped Robin get through her shares, they barely won. But by the third game he basically played alone and won pretty easily. The crowd seem entertained, cheering for him and random people kept patting him on the shoulder. it’s weird, a little stale on his skin to be congratulated like that, over something like this again. But he’ll be that guy again for one night, if just to make Robin smile.

He downs a cup someone offers him in celebration. Accepting a couple high fives from Robins band friends. Tries to not be weird, to not show how the praise makes him itch.

Steve lifts his wrist up to wipe at his mouth. His eyes drawn to the far side of the room. Eddie is leaning against the wall, black jacket against stark white. He claps slowly once, twice, his eyes shining with something. Like Steve is something funny, something interesting.

Steve’s hands and feet tingle, his lips a little numb. Feels warm. Doesn't think about churches or blood or monsters. Just lifts his eyebrows, sucks some of the sticky beer from the pad of his thumb, and winks.

Eddie rolls his eyes and rolls off the wall, disappearing into another room.

But Steve saw his smile.

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

part 2 | ao3

written for Lex’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge! run by @thefreakandthehair and using the prompt: 'spiked eggnog'. ty for putting this on always!! sorry im posting on the last day again lol xoxo

title from 'stick season' by noah kahan (edited slightly to fit better)

@pearynice and @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx ty for the kind words and guidance getting me unstuck with this fic <3 its alive now

lmk if you would like a tag for part two :)

#hes a boy with a lot of thoughts #some of those are about another boy #some are about the meaning of grace in a world with monsters #and that's okay #this was very hard and then very fun to write #hotlunch #my fic #steddie #steve x eddie #catholic steve harrington #pre s4 au #platonic soulmates stobin #spicysixwinterfanworkschallenge

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