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george-weasleys-girl · 2 years

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Chapter 25 - The Twelve Days of Christmas

Warnings: one vague allusion to sex

Summary: After nearly five months apart, George surprises Y/N with twelve days of Christmas romance, pure fluff

Start Here:

~•~

On the First Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

One hearty breakfast in bed

George knew Y/N'd be exhausted when she arrived. Determined to let her sleep in, he spent the morning threatening to hex anyone who woke her up. She slept in a little longer than expected, and breakfast became brunch. It didn’t matter, though. Her bright eyes and surprised smile made it well worth the wait.

~•~

On the Second Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

Two pairs of warm, fuzzy socks

George had been prepping for months. He had Ginny teach him how to knit and managed to make, not one but two pairs of socks for Y/N. "Oh Georgie! These are perfect!" She said as she slipped a pair on before giving him a hug that nearly bowled him over.

~•~

On the Third Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

Three chocolate treats

On his last trip to Hogsmede, George picked up her favorite chocolates from Honeydukes. Y/N did the Snoopy Dance. He had no idea what that meant, but it was adorable. Then, grinning wide, he watched her eat them all in the span of about two seconds.

~•~

On the Fourth Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

Four favorite movies

A couple of months earlier, Arthur had managed to get Sirius a TV. George took full advantage of it by sequestering the living room that evening for a movie marathon with four of Y/N's favorite holiday movies complete with hot cocoa, popcorn, and cookies. They fell asleep cuddling on the sofa about halfway through the third movie.

~•~

On the Fifth Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

Five love poems

Not only had George composed five love poems ranging from silly to romantic, but he acted them out, sang them, and one was conveyed solely through interpretive dance. Y/N went from laughing to crying happy tears to laughing again.

~•~

On the Sixth Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

Six happy memories

George put together a collage of six of their favorite photos. He'd charmed the frame to change periodically with little quotes signifying each special moment. Y/N was rendered speechless, giving him a long, passionate kiss instead.

"Ew! Get a room!" Fred joked as he walked by. So, they did.

~•~

On the Seventh Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

Matching silver swans charms

George still had a bit of money left over from buying their lockets. He was glad he'd held onto it.

"Swans, they're the seventh gift in the song," he'd explained, holding out the tiny charms. "They also mate for life. I thought we could wear them next to our lockets."

For the seventh day in a row, Y/N found herself wiping away happy tears. "You're making it very, very difficult for me to go back to the States."

George winked. "Good."

~•~

On the Eighth Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

A full night of pampering

The evening began with a chamomile milk bath with rose petals, surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of candles. Then George attempted to give her a full massage on the rose petal covered bed, but things didn't quite go as planned. Y/N was still a little damp when she lay down, causing the petals to bleed their lovely red color. It ended up looking like a crime scene rather than a romantic interlude, sending both of them into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

On the Ninth Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

Nine ladies dancing

"You brought a fancy dress, yeah?" George asked.

"Of course."

"Good, you'll need it tonight."

For the second time, they snuck out of the house. Except this time, they apparated to a theatre where he surprised her with tickets to see The Nutcracker. He could only afford nosebleed seats, but Y/N didn't care. She showered him with kisses all the same.

George, though, made a silent promise that when the joke shop became a success, which he was confident it would, he'd bring her back with tickets for the best seats in the house.

On the Tenth Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

Ten romantic songs

They'd planned on making a mixtape before she left last summer but never got around to it with everything else going on. George decided to remedy that, spending a couple of weeks curating the perfect collection to encapsulate their relationship.

He was on top of the world when Y/N told him he was the best boyfriend ever.

~•~

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

Late night waltzing in the living room

At 11pm, once everyone had retired for the night, George led Y/N downstairs to the living room. With nothing but the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree illuminating the room, they danced and talked and laughed until the wee hours of the morning.

~•~

On the Twelveth Day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me...

12,000 kisses

Every time Y/N turned around, George was standing there, grinning like a fool and holding up a sprig of mistletoe.

"Oh look, love, it's mistletoe!" He'd say innocently. "You know what that means."

"Gee, I wonder how that got there," she'd say with a giggle.

"Hey, we gotta stock up for lean times," he told her with a wink before pulling her in for one of many kisses that day.

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire

~•~

Next Chapter:

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader

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palimpsessed · 4 years

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So @captain-aralias did one of these and invited other writers to do the same. And I wasn't really going to because it feels a bit late now and also I've done quite a few other year in review posts for 2020. But then I got to thinking that it would be really nice to have one of these for each year to look back on and compare, which convinced me. So, here we go!

If you’re a writer, I’d also encourage you to steal this. Tag me on your post so I can see your thoughts! 🥰

List of Complete Fics for 2020 1. At the Top of a Tower, With You- General, 900 words 2. Use Your Words- Teen, 16k 3. A Man of Letters, or Five Times Baz Retreats and the One Time He Doesn’t- Teen, 54k 4. To the Manor Borne- Teen, 43k

Total: 4 fics, 113k words

Every one of these fics was written for an event, which, realistically, is the only reason they got finished. I have so many ideas I'm working on all at once, and I came into fandom with a focus on making art, so to actually find the motivation to sit down and write/finish/post a fic was entirely deadline based. And it's a technique I'm sure I will also employ in 2021.

Best/Worst Title?

Well, I've mentioned a few times before that I usually have a title before I have much in the way of a fic concept. I don't really dislike any of the my titles, because they all did exactly what I needed them to do, which was help me focus on what I wanted to accomplish in the fic. Comparatively speaking, though, I can answer this.

Best: Use Your Words - succinct, idiomatic, a book quote/motif that also has the potential to be a spell, does what it says on the tin, is probably what all of us are constantly yelling at Baz and Simon to do throughout the books and the fic itself

(Honorable mention to A Man of Letters because that title forms a perfect heart shape when viewed on mobile on AO3. ❤️)

Worst: At the Top of a Tower, With You - this is also a quote and it fits the fic perfectly, but it is a bit of a mouthful and it has a comma in the middle of it, which, while I love commas, feels a bit off-putting in terms of a title - also, it's always kind of bothered me that it's a Baz WS quote used for a CO-era Lucy POV

Best/worst summary?

Again, I don't really dislike any of my summaries.

Best:

To the Manor Borne: The gang decides to spend Christmas together at Pitch Manor. Romance, hijinks, and holiday cheer ensue.

Anything that lets me use the word hijinks is always good! - it's short and sweet - it does a fair job of setting up the premise for the fic and giving highlights, without giving anything away

Worst: A Man of Letters

I'm not going to include this one because it's so long, I had to cut down the version I posted on tumblr to fit in the AO3 field, which is really why I rank it below my others - it effectively sets up the world of Simon and Baz in Regency England prior to where the story starts, but it is prohibitively long - and it's set up, not summary, so it also loses points for not doing what it purports to do - I could have said exactly what this fic was in one sentence: "Simon and Baz meet at several Regency-appropriate venues over the course of a London season and reflect on their acquaintance in letters", but instead I did the full book jacket version because it was more interesting to me.

Best/Worst First Line?

Oh, this is interesting. I can honestly say that I have no idea where this will go. Going to pull up my docs and find out! Okay, since I only have four fics to consider, and I'm feeling split, I'm going to do two for each. I feel good about my words, but I will say that half of my first lines actually provide information, and the other half are incomplete thoughts. Those were stylistic decisions I made, but when taken alone, it does somewhat limit the effectivness of a sentence when it can't stand without the rest of the paragraph. Perhaps that decision will lure readers in for more?

Best:

In the end, we wind up at Pitch Manor. (To the Manor Borne)

I know that you won't be surprised when I tell you that I do not like writing letters. (A Man of Letters)

Kind of interesting that these both contain key words from the titles 🤔

Worst:

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this. (Use Your Words)

I love how the title seems to be answering Baz's question when the two are put together like this 😂

Strange that it should end here, where it all started. (At the Top of a Tower, With You)

The title also seems to complete the first line in this one, too. I'm learning about my writing as this goes on, so that's cool!

Best/Worst Last Line?

Hmm. Okay, again, no idea. Also, a little leery of including last lines for anyone who hasn't read the fics they're from yet. (Tho I guess it's unlikely those people would be reading this😆) But let's see what we've got.

Use Your Words and A Man of Letters have very similar final lines, and both are somewhat spoilery.

Best: The ending of A Man of Letters felt risky to me, in the way that it is formatted and changes tone from the rest of the story. It was something that happened as I wrote it and I loved it. I had no idea if readers would like it, if they would feel like it worked as an ending, but I felt strongly enough about it to let the entire fic hinge on that and I think it really paid off. So, without giving you the actual last line, which is only one word, I'm going to say that one is my best ending.

Worst:

To the Manor Borne: "Carry on, Simon."

It's not bad, it's just not mine.

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, fewer than you thought, or about what you predicted?

I did not set out to write any fics in 2020. I was supposed to be taking a break from writing. I've been an aspiring novelist for half my life now, and have been going through major ups and downs with my writing. I decided I needed to re-evaluate and figure out if writing was something that was even going to be able to make me happy anymore. The answer is: YES! Just…not original fiction. At the moment. I'm happiest when I can write for the sake of writing and not have to DO something with that writing. Which is why discovering fan fiction was AMAZING!!!! 🥰🥰🥰

To actually answer the question, yes, I wrote more than I thought I would. I also wrote exactly as much as I thought I would, simply because these were all things I signed up for (with the exception of my Countdown fic, but I committed to it as if it were something that required a sign up).

I have a lot more ideas for 2021, but I don't know how many of them will come to fruition. I'm not putting pressure on myself to have to do anything beyond what I sign up for again, because it did work out so well for me starting off.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I mean, the pairing and the fandom were in no way a surprise. 😆 They're my only ones, so those were both a given. The genre is also not surprising.

What's your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest?

A Man of Letters, without any hesitation. I adore it so much. It's the kind of fic I know I will unabashedly sit down to read over and over, even if I'm the one who wrote it. I had one reader to please and it was ME. By far, my most self-indulgent fic.

Okay, NOW your most popular story?

That depends on the metric.

To the Manor Borne leads in Comments (107), Kudos (153), and Hits (1992), and Use Your Words leads in Bookmarks (26).

But since To the Manor Borne is top in 3 out of 4 metrics, I'll say that one.

Story most upderappreciated by the universe?

I mean, the least popular by a wide margin is At the Top of a Tower, With You, but I don't know if I'd call it underappreciated. It's short, it's angsty, it's got a very unusual style, it's Lucy POV, it's the first fic I wrote and posted. I didn't really go into it with high performance expectations. I'm proud of it, I just didn't expect it to be popular. It would be nice if more people read it, but I'm not broken up over it.

Story that could have been better?

I'm not even going to touch this one. Everything can always be improved upon, but if I go down that route, nothing will ever be done. This is one of the things I have come to appreciate about traditional art versus digital. With traditional, there is only so much you can do before something is permanent and you have to live with it. It's an exercise in letting go and acceptance. Digital is flashier and more flexible, but I could (and have) spend months on a single piece and never feel satisfied, never stop tweaking. I think that's also the reason I started to hate my novels.

Sexiest story?

Based purely on overall vibes, I find the understated tension of the Regency the most appealing, so I'm going to say A Man of Letters. I didn't actually stray into sex territory in any of my fics (though Simon and Baz have had sex by the time To the Manor Borne starts, and refer to it, and probably do it "offscreen"), but A Man of Letters is the one that feels sexiest to me. Lots of thirsting!Baz and feral!Simon and sensual hand touching (how risqué!) - and YEARNING. That, to me, is the sexiest vibe of all. So. Much. Yearning.

Saddest story?

At the Top of a Tower, With You - for this one, I tagged "angst without plot" and I stand by that. It's Lucy losing her connection to Simon at the end of CO and trying to find a way to reconcile herself to leaving him alone again. I gave it as much of a hopeful bent as I could, with the refrain of Baz's spoken "love" to cling to, but it's very sad.

Most fun?

To the Manor Borne - All of my fics have their fair share of angst, but this one also has some good, silly, holiday fluff thrown in. Since I wrote it for the Countdown, each chapter was based on a different prompt, which led to this one going in all sorts of directions no single fic probably ever should. Plus, it has the most Shepard, and Shepard always makes things more fun.

Story with the single sweetest moment?

Oh my god. I don't know. No, never mind. I do. It's To the Manor Borne, but it's split between the two gift giving scenes, the Constellations and Secret Santa/Gift Giving prompts. These were private moments between Simon and Baz, sharing themselves with each other, being vulnerable, and communicating. It's the gifts they give each other, yes, but it's more so the reasons they chose those gifts, and how they show part of themselves and share their love for each other, through those gifts, that had me in tears writing those two scenes. I'm super proud of them.

Hardest story to write?

Use Your Words - it was written for an exchange and that made it really hard to write it knowing there was this pressure of making my gift-ee happy with the fic. I'm proud of it, and they really liked it, but the anxiety was too much for me.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

A Man of Letters - if there is a fic better suited to me as a writer, I haven't met it. I started writing after reading Pride and Prejudice in high school, so I started out writing Regency and I spent years and years and years of my life obsessed. When I transferred into college, an administrator I had never met before heard my name during orientation and said, "Oh, you're the Austen scholar." (It is a small, private college, and I was a transfer, so the pool of students was even smaller. But still. Many years later, I'm clearly not over it.) I also did my senior thesis on an epistolary novel (Frances Burney’s Evelina), and my English Lit emphasis was for that time period. So, I felt like I had been preparing for this fic my entire adult life. 😂

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I don't think so. I tend to let my writing be dictated by the characters, so I'm always following their lead. Sometimes they'll do or say something that surprises me and takes me down a route I didn't necessarily foresee, but I don't think there was ever a point where one of them did something that made me rethink who they are as a character.

Most overdue story?

I will say A Man of Letters, since that one felt like a culmination of my seventeen-year-old self's wildest writing dreams. But I should probably say the Scooby Doo AU I still haven't managed to finish, because that one has been a WIP since I joined the fandom. Oops. (I'm hoping when I look over this in a year, I can feel smug that it's finally done.)

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Writing at all was a risk for me! And writing fan fic for the very first time! Writing an entire fic told only through letters. And then ending it in a completely different style from the rest of the fic. Doing a multi-chaptered fic for the Countdown, using a different prompt for each chapter, and publishing a chapter every single day for thirty days (with the exception of two days that had art). Signing up for fandom events in the first place!

What I learned from taking risks in my writing is the same thing I learned when I took risks in my art this year. I have a much better appreciation for what I've done when I push myself, I feel better about the end product, and I like it longer. I think it's really good for me to challenge myself creatively.

This year's theme and the story that demonstrates it most?

Oh boy. Um. Therapy! Both Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne had their big HEA moments built around sending Simon and Baz to therapy. I don't think that's likely to change for future fics, either. I feel like therapy as the theme for 2020 seems very fitting. (Also, I think I keep sending the boys to therapy because I'm trying to get myself there…)

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Just to write what I want to write, have fun, not put any pressure on myself, and to take risks in my writing and my art because it will help me to grow.

#fan fic year in review #my fic #at the top of a tower with you #use your words #a man of letters #to the manor borne

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aspiratinganxiety · 6 years

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Christmas Dinner Part II

The much awaited final chapter of the Christmas dinner prompt! This is pure fluff with a delectable finish, if I do say so myself. The first part of this fic can be found here.

I am so sorry that I had to repeatedly bump back the post date for this piece. You guys were so excited for it, and I swear that I got it to you as soon as I could. I’ve had a couple of weeks with a new job and some stuff that needed to get done around the house for the change in season.

As always, I am grateful for your patience, and I would love to know what you think of my work!

(Side note: If you want to be added to a taglist, let me know. I don’t really have one yet, only a small one for Part II of the Ballerina/Dick fic. Not really sure if anyone is interested. Drop me an ask or message me if you’d like to be tagged in my work, and please specify if there are certain triggers that you’d like not to be tagged in.)

"Just make sure to act... ya’ know.... natural. Like we willingly spend time with one another romantically. Also please, please do not take Jason’s bait. He’s always an especially bitter pill during these parties. I don’t know why. It’s just like, one of his things. One of his many things. Oh! And remember-”

“Christ on a bicycle, Tim!” you interrupt him, patience completely evaporated. “I know how to be a girlfriend. I’ve been in more relationships for an amount of time that totals longer than your go with Stephanie. I know all the weird quirks with your family, even Jason. I understand what jokes not to make. All of my major etiquette lessons were from Alfred himself, and I don’t drink. Won’t make a habit of it in front of Bruce as an underage date to the only son functioning as a public figure for Wayne Enterprises. I get it. I know. Chill the fuck out and get off my back, or I’m going to punch you in your bird throat.”

Usually, you do not threaten violence to anyone, especially people as kindhearted as Tim. Jesus God though, 45 minutes of his frantic dictation about your expected behaviors and you’re ready to strip off your bribery gown, roll out of the moving car buck-ass naked, and hoof it back to your apartment in the snow.

You have enough anxiety of your own, poured into a buh-jillion dollar dress that was made to push your boobs up to your chin and mold your butt into some kind of evergreen-colored peach. You can barely walk in your shoes, you’re wearing jewelry that cost more than your education, you are terrified that Damian might mistake your fake fur for the real thing and try to murder you on the spot, and the flower crown braided to your head is made of poky pine twigs, baby pine cones, and glittery sugared berries that are all working together to make your scalp itch worse than the week and a half you spent fighting a colony of lice in the fourth grade.

Fucking Lacey Whitaker and her four-feet of infested hair...

In short, you want to die and you haven’t even tried to lie to Batman yet.

“Wow.” Tim blinks, mouth scrunched into an unimpressed line.

You sigh, hanging your head. “Tim, I am not going to punch you. That would be unkind and, frankly, a stupid move on my part.” You shake your head. “Not a fight I can win.”

“I’m honestly less offended by the punching and more hung up on the bird throat comment.”

You cut your eyes at him, incredulous. “Yeah, well, that scarf isn’t exactly doing you favors.”

He balks, jaw falling open. “Okay, first: you must be going blind. Francisco hand delivered all of the accent notes for my attire, including this scarf, so that I would match your dress. The one that you picked. The one that is on your body this very minute, if you would recall. The botanical embroidery is even consistent. So, yeah.” He motions to the fitted portion of the gown that can be seen hugging your thighs below the hem of your fluffy false fur coat. “Second observation: you are hella’ mean when you have The Anxiety, and I did not intend to fan that flame.”

“Well, you’re hella’ bossy when you get nervous. Not a great combination to be crammed in a sports car together.”

“Noted,” he says, pulling the scarf looser.

The rest of the drive is somewhat tense as you both deeply question your life choices and rehearse the practiced cover story about first dates and whatnot. The sidewalk that leads to the main entrance of Wayne Manor is mercifully devoid of ice, having been flawlessly scraped and salted ahead of time. Alfred greets the two of you with a broad smile and ushers you into the bright, impeccably decorated foyer.

“Happy Christmas,” he says, looking down at you in his warm, if distant, way. “Aren’t you a sight, Miss?”

You acknowledge the compliment as Alfred hangs Tim’s coat and scarf, ducking your head in an awkward cross between a nod and a bow, frantically trying to peel the fur coat away from you before Damian gets a look at it.

It is then that Tim sees the bodice of your dress for the first time. He stares, too struck by the full effect of the incredibly intricate, fitted garment to be ashamed that he is staring. The gown envelops you tightly from your bust to just below your hips, flowing seamlessly into rounded pool of silken fabric at the floor. Delicate lacework that echos the embroidery running throughout the piece act as wide, gossamer straps that tip over your shoulders and dive into what the cut of the dress would indicate to be a deep hemline baring a good portion of your back. With the high notes of red in your wreath, on your shoes, and staining your pretty, pretty lips, it’s hard for Tim to decide if the incredibly flattering silhouette created by your gown is more provocative than the contrasting, complimentary colors of forest green and holly-berry red that work to draw eyes up and down your body, then back up again... and down.... and up.

It is Alfred’s voice, chastising him, that breaks Tim out of his awed silence. “Take her coat and put your tongue back in your mouth immediately, Master Timothy.”

“Right!” he says, closing his eyes with a nod and stepping toward you. And again quietly, he almost sighs, “Right.”

You hand him the fur, somewhat confused. Meeting his eye, you attempt to convey a look that asks whether or not he’s begun acting. After all, it’s only Alfred, and you both knew that there was zero hope of convincing the brilliant Englishman from the get. Tim was relying on the gentleman’s steadfast discretion to allow him this Christmas of peace from his brothers.

Your initial reaction to Tim’s obvious admiration isn’t playful banter or a controlled taunt, as rehearsed. Rather, you are overwhelmingly flattered and suddenly battling an absolute tidal wave of uncharacteristic bashfulness. Heat burns in your cheeks from more than the rush of blood brought up by the warm house as you pass off your coat. Tim seems genuinely embarrassed too, as he avoids touching your hands and keeps his body far from you, using the full length of an outstretched arm to snag the outerwear. The left side of his face is crumpled in an apologetic wince, and the expression cuts clean through you. The bubble of your sheer delight implodes into a million little radiant drops as you try to decide whether or not the wince means he regrets having found you an attractive sight.

That is not how boyfriends who enjoy your dress behave. Tim’s presenting a friend reaction, a friend who is afraid of having objectified or offended you. You steel yourself against the rush of anxiety that previously dimmed your flattered reaction and accept that you are gonna’ have to hem this tattered patchwork of a plan all by your lonesome if it’s going to be believable.

The Red Robin’s body language indicates that he’s all but thrown in the towel here at the door.

And so, you take a deep breath, unfolding the neat, tidy little booklet of repressed feelings that you’ve been harboring in the pockets of your heart since you were 15, and you let yourself smile at him.

Really smile. The way you do when his back is turned. When his woefully dedicated or unimaginably funny words are in text. When you know it’s safe and no one will see the way that you smile for Tim.

Your lips curve up a bit wry, teasing but encouraging. Teeth flash, a porcelain sign advertising your giddy joy and the silly sense of eagerness you allow yourself to feel, all-too-easily engaging the fantasy that this is a real date. Your shoulders half-shrug, and you catch the perfectly manicured nail of your ring finger between the knuckles of the opposite third and fourth fingers, running the corner of your thumbnail beneath it. The gesture is a nervous, fiddling one that communicates that damnably predominant shyness creeping up again.

You keep his eyes too, pegging him with an expression that communicates all of the softness and the intensity that you’ve been fighting to hide for so long.

Tim goes stone still, like he’s been struck by lightening and his brain decided to exist stage left for intermission. He stares at you, staring at him like he’s answered some kind of prayer by grabbing your coat.

For a brief, breathless moment, he feels like Gods must.

He’s dizzy with the sensation. It echos from his temples through his skull, then all the way down to every toe. A reverberation of unmitigated glory as delivered by the expression of someone he loves.

Nobody has ever looked at him that way.

Not even right after he saves their life.

“Heavens,” Alfred mumbles behind him, a shared note of awe in his voice.

Tim jerks, having completely forgotten where he was, why he’d be there, or that other humans who weren’t you existed at all.

The older gentleman relieves Tim of the coat, casting a prideful, knowing look over the much younger man. “I’ll just take that. Everyone is socializing in the parlor. Go on to the party, and I will call when the dinner preparations are in order.”

Tim, grateful that Alfred habitually motioned both of you toward the heavy mahogany doors that lead into the front sitting room, realizes that he somehow lost all memory of the manor’s blueprint. He also cannot recall the name of Damian’s dog.

“Well,” you say, waiting until Alfred bustles away before leaning toward him with a much more contained smile. You nod toward the parlor, a curl falling from its place pinned to your crown.

“Uh,” Tim delays, closing his eyes and giving his head a quick shake. He dares to step closer to you and carefully brushes at the strand of loose hair. “Actually, do you think it would be okay if... um.... well, I was wondering if you’d like the plan being that this-” he motions between the two of you. “This was less for pretend and more for real?”

He speaks so quietly that you are straining to hear him. Beyond that, what you can make out of his words seem to imply a notion that has your heart hammering so hard that it isn’t leaving any room for your lungs to expand.

You get closer and whisper more distinctly. “More real how?”

“Like, real real.”

“You are not helping me understand, Tim,” you hiss, feeling rather vulnerable and unsure.

He grins haltingly, schooling his features into a gentler expression before balancing your chin on his thumb and forefinger. Tim tilts your face up, sure to keep gauging your reaction to his approach with inquisitive looks and plenty of pauses. Your eyes flutter shut after the tip of his nose presses into yours playfully, and he angles his head to brush past the bridge of your own nose and nuzzle into your cheek.

Time stops again when you’re on the very cusp of kissing, lips together in a tickling brush with warm puffs of breath mingling between you. “Is this okay?” he asks, the press of his mouth to yours causing you to silently mirror the formation of his words.

“Uh-huh,” you answer a susurrant hum, eyes still closed and oh so excited for a proper kiss.

“Ah, crap.” Jason’s voice booming out of the parlor behind you has both you and Tim jumping out of your skins. “That’s 60 bucks to Selina, guys! Turns out Timbo and Bo-peep are an item after all. They’re kissin’ in the foyer like animals! Catwoman takes the pot.”

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jwab · 8 years

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Rules: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions (which is impossible at this point so just do your best, okay?)

Tagged by @favouritealias who is pure delight and thank you, my dear, for remembering me while I’ve been quietly puttering along.

1. Coke or Pepsi: Dr. Pepper.

2. Disney or Dreamworks: Sondheim.

3. Coffee or Tea: Coffee, but also tea? I’m too much of a brat to pick one.

4. Books or Movies: Usually books.

5. Windows or Mac: Windows.

6. DC or Marvel: Now, little missies, come take a seat on Gramma J’s porch swing and I’ll tell you stories about vampires and witches, things we used to read when I was a young thing, none o’ this superhero floof...

7. Xbox or Playstation: I had an Atari as a kid and I loved this game called KABOOM. Twenty five years later, my husband and I played a ton of Civilization. Yeahhhh.

8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect: So KABOOM was really just about catching these old-timey looking bombs with a slidey cart....

9. Night Owl or Early Rise: Early rise when I get enough sleep.

10. Cards or Chess: Cards.

11. Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate chocolate very chocolate but also, come on, are those really the only two choices? I mean, PISTACHIO. CARAMEL. BUTTERSCOTCH FOR FUCK’S SAKE

12. Vans or Converse: Doc Martens.

13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar: those aren’t words

14. Fluff or Angst: I mean, that’s just rude. Okay: @werebearbearbar‘s angsty fluff and @tehriz‘s fluffy angst.

15. Beach or Forest: I DON’T LIKE THESE OPTIONS. A city at night; my friend’s porch on a summer evening; the deck of my dad’s place with a cup of coffee in the early morning quiet.

16. Dogs or Cats: Doggly dogs.

17. Clear Skies or Rain: Clear skies for fun; rain for thinking.

18. Cooking or Eating Out: Eating out.

19. Spicy Food or Mild Food: Medium I’M SORRY

20. Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Christmas: Christmas (says the Jew).

21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot?: Cold definitely because you can put on layers but you CAN’T PEEL OFF YOUR SKIN

22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be?: healing the planet.

23. Animation or Live Action: Live action.

24. Paragon or Renegade: Are these things? I mean, I prefer to be a renegade but...

25. Baths or Showers: Showers.

26. Team Cap or Team Iron Man: Gramma J just made a nice batch of brownies! Don’t you move, I’ll get ‘em and them we can talk about the Indigo Girls!

27. Fantasy or Sci-Fi: Good stories! Probably Sci-Fi on the whole, but I’ll take some meaty pirate fantasy with a tragic gay backstory any day...

28. Do you have three or four favourite quotes? Nope.

29. YouTube or Netflix: But they are useful for different things...??

30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: Harry Potter. I worked at Tower Records when the first book came out and we all devoured it. Read the last one while touring Austria as a soloist.

31: When You Feel Accomplished: When my kid likes something I cook (a vanishingly rare occurrence); when I can zero in on the thing a student needs to hear/learn to improve

32. Star Wars or Star Trek: Star Wars, marginally.

33. Paperback Books or Hardback Books: paperback

34. Handwriting or Typing: Typing.

35. Velvet or Satin: Really nice cotton. Or merino wool, knitted by moi. OR OR OR! Melly’s handspun!! It’s sooooooo soft!!

36. Video Games or Movies?: Movies, my sweet children. Movies.

37. Would you rather be the dragon or own the dragon? Own the dragon and RIDE IT

38: Sunrise or sunset: Sunrises are GORGEOUS.

39: What’s your favourite song? Silly question for a professional singer. MOST OF THEM.

40: What’s your favorite smell? Grapefruit.

41. What’s your favourite bad joke? How many mice does it take to screw in a light bulb? Two, but they have to be reallllly small.

42. What is your favorite Young Adult book? The Sky is Everywhere. It’s lovely. I believe that was a @creepingmuse rec.

43. What’s your drink order at the bar? Bourbon, neat. (I know, in a former life I was a film noir detective)

44. What’s your favorite Magritte painting? La trahison des images (@favouritealias’ answer, and mine too)

45. *scratches head* Do you play an instrument? If yes, which one? WELL. My main instrument is my voice -- I do many lovely and several super crazy things with it. I also play the piano quite well. I am a ukulele fiend and I also play the accordion (I know, I know). Plus, I got a mandolin to learn but it’s harrrrdddd.

46. BOOK RECS, GO:

Tagging @tehriz, @crabsandlobsters, @werebearbearbar@creepingmuse, @no-no-no-yes-no, @sneetchstar, @canadiangarrison, @snowglory, plus anyone who has ever reviewed any of my fics because I LOVE YOU

#the moral of this story is don't give J two options ever #she goes off script #thanks fave for being such a delight

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