#this was my christmas break project and it's been so much fun!

[purplecarseat]

Lo! Gideon be upon ye

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT ✦ M.R x READER

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time (part one to lovesick!mattheo)

SECOND PART HERE - lovesick!mattheo christmas edition

pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, so tamino inspired word count: 3.7k warnings: just fluff again! along with easily flustered mattheo (+ teasing theo)

author's note: my second post!! i made a small playlist of tamino songs i used for mattheo in this. if you haven’t, please go listen to him (his music is so good). i based this off a small part of my first fic where theo sang to reader. as always, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

if you would like to read the second part, click here!

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[midnight-mourning]

What's This?

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 4❄️❄️

Sorry for the lateness! Busy few days and then realized I needed to take some time for myself and make something I enjoy, so finished this finally.

Prompt: Maybe someone teaching Moon what christmas is? My moon just recently became 'sentient' and so doesn't understand alot of things yet! So he'd have no idea what christmas is! I think it'd be cute. Doesn't have to be my Moon, of course. Just the idea that Sun hasn't told him for some reason, so someone else has to!

Word Count: 1239

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"And put the tinsel here, here, and here!" Sun directs, point to various locations around the Daycare.

You chuckle, but follow his orders. 

The two of you were decorating for the holidays, and having found a box of decorations in the back of the Daycare's supply closet, Sun had gotten to work immediately. And had put you to work as well. Additionally, he had asked for you to order more supplies, wanting to spiff the place up as much as possible for the kids. He also mentioned wanting crafting materials for Christmas and holiday themed projects, so that was piled on to this order. 

You think his request for 30 boxes of candy canes was a little excessive, but the rest had all been reasonable and within budget. So, using what you had, and what you now had, to really go all out. 

You cut into another box, opening it to find fake holly and mistletoe, as well as a couple of wreaths. 

"So, any particular reason for this excess cheer this year?" You ask, taking the supplies out and setting them in a pile on a nearby table. 

At this, he clamps up for a moment, but then shakes his head. "Nothing specifically, it just seemed like a good opportunity! I needed ideas for the next few weeks for activities, why not do something to lift the holiday cheer!"

You think the answer was odd in its wording, but can't think of anything to say in response beyond, "Fair enough."

You're mid-decorating when the lights cut, as is usual for this time in the day. 

Without looking up from organizing colored paper and pipe cleaners, you wave in Moon's direction, "Hey, bud. You also in the Christmas spirit?"

No answer. 

You look up, and find Moon is entirely motionless. You would think he was powered off if not for the muted clicks and whirls you hear still emitting from him. 

You frown. "Moon, you alright?"

"I, what..." He tilts his head, and looks around. "What is all of this? Is something happening? Is there some, odd, birthday party occurring today?"

Your brows furrow, "Well, no. This is, these are Christmas decorations. I mean, holidays overall, but mainly for Christmas." 

He takes a step over to where tinsel is hung, picking it up between two fingers. His faceplate twists to the left, then the right. Then, he turns to you. 

"...Christmas?"

Now you're the one who's confused. 

"I, you mean, how do you—" You stop. "Moon, you don't know what Christmas is?"

He shakes his head slow. 

You clasp your hands in front of your mouth, eyes wide at the news. 

When you don't say anything, Moon seems to become apprehensive, chuckling awkwardly, "Should, should I?"

Realizing yourself, you shake your head slightly. Taking a deep breath, you break out into a grin, clapping your hands. 

"Oh, this is so fun! I can show you so many things and all the traditions. We can put up decorations together, watch movies, do some crafts, oh! We can bake cookies too! Though maybe that's not a good idea to do in the dark and—" You pause, noticing he's just staring at you completely lost. You clear your throat, speaking more slowly now. "Sorry, to answer your question, no not at all. I know you don't get a lot of exposure to everything, so it makes sense, though I don't know why Sun wouldn't—but ah, I'm so excited to tell you! If, if that's alright of course."

Moon tilts his head, and you're afraid you may have just overwhelmed him. You're about to apologize again when he laughs softly.

"I think I would like that, Star." There's a fondness to his words you can't place, it's gone when he seems to notice it himself. "If, you don't mind, that is."

You nod, eager, and can't help yourself as you rush over and take his hand, "I would be honored."

As you turn and lead him towards your grand pile of boxes and decorations, you don't know how fast his faceplate spins the moment after your hands make contact. 

You sit down and pat the spot next to you with your free hand, Moon following your lead after a moment. 

You shift so that you're sitting cross-legged across from him, and he does the same.

"Okay so..."

You start by explaining the origins of the holiday, what it means for different people, and how people celebrate depending on where they're from and such. You tell him all about every tradition you can think of, including the ones you personally do. 

Along the way, you notice Moon's body language shift from apprehensive and confused, to curious, to invested in what you say. It in turn fuels your own excitement as he asks you polite questions every so often, and you deliver every answer with as much detail as you can. 

You worry that you may be doing too much again though, so you mention such. "Sorry, I know this is a lot and I'm going super fast, I just, the holidays are really important to me you know?" Your voice grows soft and you look away, laughing shyly. "I um, I don't really get to spend them with many people anymore so I guess I just got super excited since we're friends and all. I'm probably boring you at this point aren't I? I can stop if this is a bit too much."

You start to feel embarrassment creep in. You'd been talking for ages now without stop, save for when he interjected every so often. For all you know Moon could be actually exhausted by how much you've had to say, it's kind of impossible to tell with that immobile faceplate of his. 

Color you surprised you feel a hand under your chin, turning your face back up to look at his. 

His eyes are narrowed gleefully, and his tone is soft as he gazes down at you. 

"You could never bore me, Star." He tilts his head. "You know that, right?"

Your eyes dart to the side, "I, um, I guess not, but still you must be—"

You suddenly find his face taking up your entire field of vision. And, after a moment's hesitation, he quickly plants his grin to your lips, then pulls back. "Whatever you may be thinking, it's quite the opposite. Seeing you so passionate it, it's contagious, and if I could I would ask you to never stop." 

Then, he looks away and folding his hands into his lap, making a sound similar to a cough. "Apologies I, I suppose I didn't know a better way to tell you then that. If you that was a step too far please, forgive me."

You however, are too busy trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck onto your face. 

You clear your throat. "Moon?"

"Hm?"

"If that's your way of explaining things, I wish you'd have started it sooner." Before you can think on it further, you reach up and grab his collar, pulling him back down to kiss him again. 

After a—much longer this time—kiss, you pull away, breathless. 

For a moment, Moon doesn't say anything. 

Then, "Perhaps now would be the time to ask you about hanging mistletoe around the Daycare?"

"I can think of a few good spots for it."

He chuckles, leaning in once more, "So can I."

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Thank you to @zenkaiankoku for the request! I thought it was super adorable ^_^ Tried to do a mix of your AU with it (which is real cool btw, was reading through it like this 👀👀 the entire time lol) as well :) also had to make Moon a bit lovesick, I feel like suddenly becoming aware of yourself but having someone so willing to guide you would make anyone just fall in love hehe

If you're interested in requesting, you have until 12/13 OR until I recieve 31 requests, currently only have 13 total so plenty of space for more! See here for more details, thanks for reading!

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@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

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[gundamthey17]

Payneland Prompt Fest 2024

Day 1: “This was supposed to be fun.”

“This makes no sense,” Edwin muttered testily.

“Have you not been paying attention?” Crystal asked, her tone equally irritable.

“I have!”

“Then what part of this is confusing to you?”

“All of it! There’s no logic, there’s no rationale. It is entirely devoid of sense. It strains credulity to the breaking point.”

“Uh-oh,” Charles grinned, “he’s using big words. Now you’re really in trouble.”

“I fail to see the purpose of this exercise.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. This was supposed to be fun. My bad, I forgot Edwin’s allergic to fun.”

“I am not, I merely prefer narratives that have substance and cohesion. Not… whatever this is.”

“Guys! I can’t hear,” Niko complained.

Crystal paused the movie and leaned around Niko to face Edwin. “What exactly is your problem with it?”

“The narrative is not believable in the slightest. She has a lucrative and successful career in the city. Not to mention a fiance who is waiting for her! Why would she abandon her fiance, her career, and her home, for a man she only just met?”

“They didn’t just meet. They knew each other when they were kids. See? You weren’t listening.”

“That is entirely beside the point. She is engaged!”

“But this guy made her realize that she’s not really in love with her fiance.”

“She realized that in three days? How?”

Crystal threw up her arms in exasperation. “I don’t know, the magic of Christmas! It’s just a movie, Edwin. It’s entertaining.”

“It’s inane. Once this - this infatuation wears off, she is going to regret leaving her entire life behind to live in the small town that she was dreading returning to in the first place.”

Niko leaned back, looking past Edwin to catch Charles’s eye. “I knew we should’ve watched Elf.”

“You’re impossible! I guess falling in love was so much easier back when you were alive.” Crystal stood up. “I’m going to get more popcorn. And when I come back, there’s going to be no more talking during the movie.” She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath as she walked to the kitchen. “You’re just lucky you died before dating apps were invented.”

Edwin's brow furrowed, his annoyance temporarily forgotten. “What are… dating apps?” he asked, enunciating the unfamiliar words carefully.

Charles shrugged. “Beats me, mate.”

“They’re a way to meet new people who might want to date you. Or kill you. Or show you their creepy doll collection,” Niko said seriously.

“Ah,” Edwin said. “That sounds… awful.”

“Mm-hm.”

Charles stretched, wrapping an arm around Edwin’s shoulders. “Well, then. Like Crystal said, it’s a good deal you found me before dating apps existed.” 

“I do not think ghosts can use dating apps.”

Charles snorted. “Not the point, mate.”

“Oh?” Edwin frowned. Then his eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Oh! You were flirting.” If he was capable of blushing, he would have.

“And the penny drops. Don’t worry, you’ll get better at it.” Charles nuzzled Edwin affectionately.

The sound of Crystal’s feet preceded her return, and Charles reluctantly let go of Edwin, who still wasn’t too keen on public displays of affection. (Though for some reason he was less self-conscious around Niko.) The boys were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch, with Niko on the other side of Edwin. Crystal returned with the bowl of popcorn and sat next to Niko.

Niko gasped, her eyes wide. “Maybe ghosts do use dating apps, and that’s where the word ‘ghosted’ comes from!”

“What are you - you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know. And Edwin, since you hate this movie so much, you can pick the next one - as long as you stop complaining. Deal?”

“That is acceptable.”

“Good. Now everybody shut up, I’m pushing play.”

[crystalrabbit246912]

Bookbinder Yuu

So I should probably be focusing on my thank you fic for 1000 likes and 25 reblogs (there's probably more than that, but Tumblr only tells me about milestones, so thank you all so much for all of the likes, reblogs, and comments), but I had a thought and it's not leaving my mind, so I figured I might as well make this.

I've been getting into bookbinding lately (the process of making books) and I started imagining if Yuu was a bookbinder and their bookbinding tools got transported Twisted Wonderland along with them.

Imagine Yuu threatening people with an awl when they get upset, which happens a lot. (If you don't know what an awl is, either look it up or just know that it's a sharp tool) Ace, Grim, and Deuce to a lesser extent get threatened a lot, and Ace and Grim get stabbed a little so they know it's not an empty threat.

The carbonara guys in the cafeteria and Cater after he tricks them into painting the roses also get stabbed in Book 1, as well a lot of Savanaclaw guys in Books 2 and 3.

Basically all of the Overblot guys get stabbed at some point during their Overblot, and the few people that haven't been stabbed are Trey (although he got threatened in the library), Kalim (he's the only guy that's never been threatened), Epel (I don't know when, but he got threatened at some point), Lilia (though Yuu's definitely tried), and Silver (Yuu's considered pricking him to wake him up, but he's too nice for them to do that).

Moving onto something more wholesome, Yuu makes books as gifts for the squad. They made the Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle guys fun, personalized books for Christmas, and some for Scarabia over break, and they always have a project going.

The first-years in particular are the ones that have gotten stabbed the least (minus Ace and Grim), so they get a bunch of random, really beautiful notebooks (mainly Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek, since they'd actually use them), sketchbooks, and photo albums for Ortho, since he can actually use them.

The upperclassmen get less, but Yuu gives all of them at least two books at random points throughout the school year. Trey gets blank cookbook style books that he can write his recipes down in, Cater gets photo albums with covers that he can photograph for Magicam, Riddle gets actual notebooks, just with fun designs on the covers, because that's what he'd actually use.

Yuu tends to write down puzzles from their world in books for Leona, because that's something that he'd actually use, while I'm blanking on ideas for Ruggie.

Azul, Jade, and Floyd tend to get books at the same time, because Yuu doesn't want to risk upsetting one of them. The covers usually match for the Tweels and correlate with Azul's, or the Tweels get inverted designs while Azul's is similar. Inside, Azul and Jade get notebooks since they go to class and pay attention, though there's compliments and small mushroom doodles on the margins. Floyd would get sketchbooks, since he does have drawing moods occasionally.

Kalim and Jamil would usually get books at the same time as well because Yuu doesn't want Jamil to feel inferior to Kalim or something like that. Kalim usually gets sketchbooks because drawing is something fun for Kalim to do and Jamil gets either notebooks or empty cookbooks for him to fill.

Vil gets notebooks because Yuu doesn't know what else to give him, considering he's a celebrity, he can practically buy whatever he wants, so they don't expect him to really use them. (At the next joint class, they're really surprised to see him using a notebook they gave him.) Rook gets scrapbooks that he can fill with his Vil and Neige photos that he gets... somehow. Because he's Rook.

Idia either gets manga-style books that he can draw his own manga in or notebooks in which he can lore-dump for games, anime, or manga, or make theories about what happens next.

Malleus gets notebooks and he's really happy about them because they're gifts from his first friend, so he cherishes them. I have no ideas for either Lilia or Silver.

Crowley would ask Yuu why he never gets books despite the fact that he's so 'kind' to them, and they smack him in the face with a book to shut him up.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 1

Summary: It's Christmas time with Negan working at a big advertising agency where his big promotion is shut down after the new, sexy, co-worker of his winds up being handed the job he's been hoping for. Being forced to work through the office Christmas party, Negan gets a glimpse of his new boss that ignites the spark to something between them that with a little luck could prove to be truly naughty or very, very nice between them.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Simon, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/130059037

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, angst, smut, etc.

Notes: This is going to be the spicier of the two Christmas stories that I will be working on this year for Negan. I hope you enjoy it!

It was Christmas time and Negan was sitting in front of the computer in his office finishing up something from his most recent project at work. While everyone else in the office was out at the Christmas party, he was still stuck in his office all alone. The music was blaring, the laughs and sound of fun that the other people were having was heard outside of the closed door that he had. This was killing him. Negan was always the life of the party, so being tied up in work was driving him crazy. More than anything he wanted to go out and mingle with everyone else, but he knew that his new boss would have his head if she saw him interacting with everyone if he didn’t have done what she wanted.

A knock on his door drew him to pull his attention away from the computer screen and he was thankful for it. He needed a break. He was hoping someone would come and save him from his work. Waving his fingers for the welcomed interruption, Negan leaned back in his chair and sighed when he saw Simon standing at the door with a tray of drinks in his hands, “Are you naughty or nice?”

“What?” Negan snickered, pushing his chair back and away from the desk as Simon made his way around it. Placed on the tray were two different drinks labeled naughty on one set of the drinks and nice on the others. “What are they?”

“Naughty is a cranberry orange whiskey sour and nice is a spiked hot chocolate,” Simon lowered down the tray to offer Negan a drink. After gazing them both over, Negan cleared his throat and reached up to loosen the knot in his tie. “What will it be boss?”

“Can I be both naughty and nice?” Negan snickered making Simon crack a smile before nodding his head. Reaching for one of each, he set them on his desk and shrugged his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“What are you even doing in here in the first place?” Simon wondered, heading back toward the door of Negan’s office. “People keep asking where you are.”

“Well you know that I’m taking a vacation with the kids to the girlfriend’s hometown for Christmas and New Years, so Y/N is having me finish what I can here. I guess me still having my laptop and working from there is not good enough for her,” Negan noted with a loud, audible sigh. Leaning back in his seat, he shrugged his shoulders and threw his hands up in the air. “I get to leave when she decides it’s okay to leave.”

“I don’t know why the big boss put her in charge. Her job should have gone to you,” Simon suggested causing Negan’s nose to wrinkle at the comment. Negan was a top advertising executive at an advertising agency and he was damn good at his job. After all his hard work and doing better than everyone else, he expected to be getting a raise and a higher title, but instead they decided to hire on Y/N who they had managed to steal out from another advertising agency that was a competitor. Even though Negan was upset, he swallowed his pride and did his best to work with her, but for some reason they seemed to have so much tension between them. Y/N didn’t seem to be much of a fan of him and she made it clear. No matter how nice he was to her. “These parties used to be so fun before she was here.”

“Everyone is out there having fun,” Negan noted staring out at the others that were dancing and seemed to be enjoying their time together. “The only people not out there are me and Y/N.”

Lowering his head, Negan stared out through the glass walls of his office to see that Y/N was still in her office working as well while the party was going on, “That’s what I mean. You’re fun as hell. Everyone else? Not as much.”

“Well I appreciate that,” Negan reached for the whiskey sour to take a long swig of the alcoholic beverage. Once he got a taste of the alcohol, his eyes bounced up and he let out an amused sound. Pulling the glass away, he looked it over and tipped his head back to look out at Simon. “Did you make these?”

“No, you think I’m capable of making shit this nice? They hired someone to make drinks, food, the whole thing,” Simon responded with a snort pointing toward the drinks that were put together rather well. “Why don’t you just quit what you are doing and come out here? Play a game or two with people. They would appreciate your energy.”

“I’m not going to get my ass handed to me,” Negan snickered finishing off the drink in a surprisingly fast manner. Standing up, he moved over toward Simon to give him the empty glass before heading back to his desk to sit down. “Thank you for the break though. I needed it. And the alcohol.”

“You work too hard Smith,” Simon alerted him with a shake of his head before closing the door behind him. Adjusting the hot chocolate that he was given, Negan made sure that it was in a safe spot with a coaster underneath it before getting back to work.

A few minutes after Simon left, he heard the ding of his messenger alerting him that someone had written him. Pulling it up made him let out a huff when he saw what was there waiting for him.

Y/N: I hope those drinks don’t keep you from finishing that project.

Lifting his head, Negan stared out at Y/N’s office to see that she was staring out at him from where she was seated behind her computer. Reaching for the drink that he had on his table, he held it out in her direction giving a firm nod of his head. Bringing the drink to his lips, he took a few big swallows before setting the drink down. Thinking out a response he typed it out and then hit send.

Negan: Don’t worry boss. You’ll get your project in the next twenty. Who knows, there might even be time for you to get to enjoy the party.

Shaking his head, he dropped down the conversation and went back to what he was doing. It offended him that she acted like he wouldn’t be able to finish what he was working on. Negan was the best at what he did and he always got everything done on time. He had a good reputation and to have her act like he was known for not getting the job done got him heated.

Getting back to work, he finished things up and sent Y/N a link to the files. Getting up from his desk, he stretched out his back with a wince and reached for the rest of his drink to finish it off. Heading out of his office, he didn’t even wait for a response from her before moving through the office. Their company had the whole floor in one of the large buildings in the city and the whole party seemed to be taking up most of the space that they did have.

Looking between Y/N’s office and the rest of the group of people that were having fun, Negan sighed heavily and headed toward Y/N’s office. Her door was open, unlike his was while he was working so it made it easy for him to knock on the door frame when he stood at the entrance. Her eyes slowly lifted to him when he cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders.

“I sent you everything, Boss,” Negan informed her folding his arms out in front of his chest. “How about we take some time to enjoy the party for a little while? It is Christmas time after all.”

“There are some things I wanted to work over with you before we leave tonight,” she explained to him, standing up from her desk to move over toward the display boards that she had set up. A loud, disappointed exhale fell from Negan’s lungs and she let out a laugh. “We’re the two in charge of this project and neither one of us are going to be here for a few weeks Negan. We need to have everything prepared for the team to take this on.”

“We’re going to have our laptops with us and still be working from our vacations Y/N,” Negan reminded her with a frown, straightening his posture. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he sighed and shook his head. It was obvious that she wanted to finish working on things, but his heart was set on enjoying things for at least a little while. “It’s Christmas, Boss. How about you take an hour for us to enjoy the party and then when things start winding down, we can come back in here and finish whatever you want.”

“I don’t know Negan,” she began which made his face scrunch up and she could tell that he was displeased with her answer. “An hour. You can have an hour, but then we have to finish this before we leave.”

“Fine,” Negan went to leave seeing her go to sit down. Shaking his head, Negan moved further into her office and grabbed a hold of her wrist to bring her out with him in the main area of the office. “No, you’re not going to go back to work. You’re going to come out here and enjoy yourself like the rest of us human beings for a little while.”

“Negan, I have things to finish,” she bickered with him, trying to get him to release her wrist, but he nodded toward the dance area where the music was loud and people were having fun. With a loud sigh, she nodded her head and felt him releasing her. “Fine.”

“It doesn’t hurt to let your hair down for a while,” Negan suggested having her follow him toward the group of people. Giving her a weak smile, he nodded his head toward his friends and went off in his own direction. Watching her for a while, he could see that she didn’t know what to do. People liked Y/N and thought she was nice. For the most part she was, she was just very serious about her job and seemed to have a problem with him. Which meant the people that were on his team weren’t her biggest fans, but they managed since Negan was never outwardly hateful about her. “She looks like a lost puppy.”

“What?” Simon choked, leaning in closer to Negan who nodded toward Y/N who had someone come up to talk to her. “I think her panties are too far up her ass for her to have a good time.”

“Nah, I think she’s got it in her to have a good time, she’s just worried what people will think,” Negan claimed, tipping his head to the side noticing the drinks that Simon were holding onto. “What do you think she would pick? Naughty or nice?”

“Nice. She doesn’t want anyone to think she’s naughty. Then again, she might not even want a drink at all. It may make her look bad to actually drink alcohol,” Simon waved Negan forward toward the group of people while holding onto the tray of drinks. Once he stepped before Y/N he could see her eyes get big when he pushed them up toward her. “Naughty or nice?”

“I’m sorry?” she breathed out, her eyebrow arching in curiosity trying to pull herself back enough to look at what he was throwing in her face.

“Are you naughty or are you nice?” Simon questioned nodding toward the drinks so she could look them over. “You have to pick one.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she put emphasis on her words and it made Simon roll his eyes. “I still have a lot of work to do, so I shouldn’t be drinking before it gets done.”

“Called that one,” Simon muttered under his breath, lowering the tray of drinks and looking to Negan who smirked. “Can’t even have a little fun.”

“I’ll just pick this one,” she seemed to be bothered by what Simon said as she grabbed one of the hot chocolates from the tray. Negan reached for one of the same drinks hearing the amusement come from Simon. Y/N took a big sip of the drink and let out a wince when she realized how much alcohol was actually in it. “Did you make these? They are strong.”

“The fact that both of you think I’m capable of making something tasty enough that looks like this is very honoring. You should know I’m not really this creative,” Simon pointed out going out toward someone that was calling for him with the drinks. Negan shifted on his feet watching her trying to drink what she had grabbed.

“You don’t have to drink that, you know that, right?” Negan inquired taking slow sips of the hot chocolate drink, his eyebrow arching in curiosity. After his comment, she finished off the drink and a smirk tugged at his lips drawing attention to his dimples. “You don’t have anything to prove to these people.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” she wondered, her eyes narrowing and it made Negan’s deep, raspy laugh follow. It felt like she had to yell at him in order for him to hear her over the loud music and that made her kind of uncomfortable. “Seriously?”

“I’m always nice to you,” Negan countered with a roll of his eyes, turning on his heel so that he was standing beside her and not staring out at her. “You just hate me for some fucking reason no matter how nice I am to you.”

“Listen,” she went to respond to Negan, but someone approached him in excitement to try to talk to him about something. The person was clearly drunk and they were pulling him over toward another part of the party. Once he was gone, other people started coming up to talk to her about things and it seemed like they were now comfortable being more open with her after seeing her out with everyone and drinking. There were exceedingly large amounts of laughter and she looked in the distance to see that people were surrounding Negan who seemed to be entertaining others like he always did. It seemed like no matter where Negan was there were always people laughing and smiling.

Once an hour passed, Y/N headed back toward her office and knew that she had work she had to get done. Instead of bothering Negan, she just went back to do things on her own. People seemed to enjoy having him out there so she gave him his space.

After some time working alone, she heard her door pushing open and it made her jump seeing a slightly sweaty Negan standing in her doorway. Watching closely, she saw him undo the cuffs of his dress shirt so he could push the arms of his shirt up before joining her in the office, kicking the door shut with the heel of his foot, “I’m ready, Boss.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” she acknowledged looking up from her computer to see that Negan was pulling one of the chairs in beside her so they could sit with one another to look at whatever she wanted.

They worked together for a while and she started to notice that the party was dying down. At one point, Negan stood up from where he was seated and went to close the blinds in her office and when she gave him a confused expression, he shrugged his shoulders, “The lights are distracting me and I want to focus.”

“Fair enough,” she replied before going back to work with him. When they finally got toward the end of things, they had two versions of their final design for something and were trying to determine what they liked better. “Which one?”

“I don’t know Boss, whatever you think,” Negan leaned back in his chair, caressing his hands in over his thighs letting out a long exhale. His hazel eyes hooked with hers and his chiseled jawline flexed when he threw his hands up in the air. “You’re the one in charge.”

“I’m asking your opinion,” she stated in a firm tone and it made an arrogant smile tug at his lips. “What?”

“I just think your opinion is the one that matters most to the bosses. They wanted something new and whatever you think is probably going to be what they would prefer,” Negan explained with a tired breath, reaching up to brush his fingers through his dark hair. “So go with whatever you want. For me, I’m just eager to get home. I have to leave early in the morning with my girlfriend to drive for a while to her family’s house so I’m just eager to get done.”

“See, you say I hate you but this is where the problem is between us,” she pushed away from the desk, turning in her chair to stare out at him. It made his dark eyes get big. Biting at his bottom lip, Negan’s face scrunched up and he didn’t immediately respond which annoyed her. “It’s obvious you are so upset that they hired me on in this position. Your team visibly fucking hates me and they don’t hide that either.”

“So what if they don’t like you?” Negan waved his hand about in the air, his voice rasp and he reached for a bottle of water that she had grabbed for him. “You’re the boss. You shouldn’t care if people like you or not. All that matters is what the people in charge think. You aren’t here to be liked or make friends. You’re here to do your job and do it well.”

“But everyone likes you,” she countered drawing his dimples to sink in further and a thick rumble of laughter followed. It infuriated her how charming his smile actually was because half the time she wanted to smack him, but he was undoubtedly a good looking man.

“No they don’t,” Negan shook his head, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat when he looked back to her. “You don’t like me. My jokes don’t work on you. My charm doesn’t work on you. I work my ass off and it’s never good enough for you. So obviously it doesn’t always work.”

“And you care what I think about you. So why are you here telling me not to care?” she disputed with a huff, folding her arms out in front of her chest. Hearing her say that made him release an amused exhale.

“Touché,” Negan tipped his head from side to side. “I guess I’m just better at handing out advice than I am following it. I just don’t get why you hate me to begin with. I don’t give you shit. I follow your direction. I work hard. I’ve never tried to undermine you. I could have tried to give you shit from the start to prove you weren’t capable of your job, but I instead kept my ego in check and accepted that they gave you the job that I worked my ass off to get. Of fucking course I’m upset that the job I wanted was given to someone who didn’t put in the years here at the company, but I’m not going to try to foil your work here and get you fired. I like you. I think you’re a good worker. I can see why they snatched you out from the other company’s nose. We’re a team and I’m doing my best to work with you, but you won’t give me a fucking chance. Instead you act like I’m a terrible worker when I’m actually one of the best that they have here. So how about you do what I have been doing for you and you show some respect for me because it’s getting fucking tiring having you being a pain in the ass toward me when I’ve welcomed you here with open arms and have kept my team in check to make sure things work out smoothly here.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat was heard and they obviously were bickering so much that they didn’t hear someone opening the door. They both turned their heads slowly to look to see that Simon was standing at the door, “I just entered at a very tense moment, didn’t I?”

“Simon?” Negan snapped, his jaw flexing showing that he was frustrated in the moment. “What do you want?”

“I’m just the last one to leave. I thought you would want to know that,” Simon informed them, pointing back over his shoulder and giving them both a stare. “I should get going though. You two should finish this. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and all that shit. I’ll see you both when you get back.”

“Wonderful,” Y/N waved him off and Simon’s eyes connected with Negan’s. Grimacing, Simon made an over dramatic face that led Negan to shake his head. Once Simon closed the door, it left the two of them alone in silence.

Getting up from the desk, she moved around Negan and heard him huff. Grabbing something from one of her cabinets, she pulled out an expensive bottle of cognac to set it before Negan. Grabbing two glasses, she placed them on the desk and sighed loudly, “Here…”

“What is this?” Negan’s nose wrinkled, his hazel eyes watching her pour some alcohol out for them.

“A peace offering,” she slid one of the glasses toward him and it was clear that he didn’t trust her. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I have been giving you shit, but I thought you wanted my job.”

“I do want your job,” Negan announced, his throat getting tense when she stated that. “The difference is that you have that job. And I can’t take it. So I’ve learned to deal with it.”

“Fair enough,” she responded, taking a long swig of the alcohol after she poured herself some and sat down. “You have to understand how hard it is to be a woman in a position of power. People automatically look down on you because this is supposed to be a predominantly male career and a lot of men have a problem when their boss is a woman.”

“I can see that,” Negan took another small sip of the alcohol, letting out a wince when the taste of it hit his tongue. It was fucking good and he wondered why she was sharing it with him. “Personally, I have no problems taking orders from a woman. I’ve always admired when a woman takes charge.”

“Wow,” she chuckled lowering her glass from her lips, her eyebrows bouncing up in curiosity. “Was that you flirting?”

“That was just me being honest,” Negan answered her, going to put the glass down and she stopped him from doing so. “What?”

“You don’t have to savor it. You can drink it. If we don’t drink it, it’s just going to sit there. View it as a peace offering,” she pushed for him to drink the alcohol. Thinking about it for a long moment, Negan pulled the glass back up and tossed the drink back swallowing it down. Refilling the glass for him, she let out a surprised sound when he stood up from the chair and moved over toward the side of her office to look out the giant window panels out at the city. “I would like you to be honest with me about your opinions Negan. I want to work with you. I want us to be a good team. Not have you just go with whatever I say.”

“It’s snowing,” Negan ignored what she said and pointed out toward the window after shooting her a glance over his shoulder. After a minute of staring out at the city, he sighed and turned to face her. “So where are you going for vacation?”

“Home,” she stood up from where she was seated and leaned against the side of her desk while keeping a tight hold of her glass. “It’s been a long time since I was home. My family is a bit old fashioned. So I really haven’t been eager to be back.”

“Why is that?” Negan was curious and he noticed the tension she had in thinking whether she should tell him or not.

“I’m not the favorite child. I’m the problem child,” she informed Negan with a simple shrug of her shoulders. “I got out as fast as I could. My father was hard on me. I didn’t do anything right. He thought I was poisoning my other siblings with my big ideas. I was the middle child. My oldest sister was the apple of his eye. I wanted to be in the city, do what I do now…he wanted me to remain a farmhand. It’s funny because my father is very old fashioned, but all three of his daughters have a different mother. And my mother is the only one he wasn’t married to when I was born. Is that much of a shock? I think I’m the mistake that he regrets and took the anger he had for himself out on.”  

“Sounds like your father is a bit of a hypocrite,” Negan reasoned with her taking another sip of the drink that was in his hand.

“Understatement of the year. My father has wanted nothing to do with me for years after our last fight. But my younger sister called me and begged me to come back. And then her mother also did too. She was the woman who raised me, so I only thought it would be right to come back for them,” she looked down toward the ground thinking about her family and she sighed. “No, that’s not true. I’m only going back to prove to my father that I’m good enough. I have money, a good job…a fiancé that loves me.”

“Ah, you’re saying fuck you dad,” Negan winked and she let out a hesitant laugh.

“Kind of,” she sighed, pointing back toward her computer. “Getting to work while I’m there will help take my mind off the stress my family will undoubtedly give me.”

“Wait…did you say your fiancé?” Negan repeated what she said moments earlier watching her hold her hand up to show the ring that was over her finger. His eyebrows bounced up in amusement and he finished what was left in his glass that she had given him. “He must be miserable.”

“Fuck you,” she chuckled when he gave her a wicked smirk and she knew that he was just screwing with her. Negan moved back to place his glass down on her desk. “And what about you? You’re going with your girlfriend I think I heard you say?”

“You listen to me,” Negan placed his hand over the center of his chest to act surprised. A deep rumble of a laugh fell from his throat as he moved over to the large glass windows to brace his back against them. “Here I was thinking you ignore everything I say.”

“I thought we were trying to bond here,” she waved her hand back and forth between them. Setting her glass down on the desk, she reached for the bottle of cognac and took a long swig from the bottle. Moving out toward him, she handed him the bottle and he accepted it to do the same. “Give me a chance.”

“I hope you aren’t driving home tonight,” Negan whispered after a hiss fell from his throat. His hazel eyes narrowing out at her as she smirked.

“I’m not much of a city driver. I grew up in a very rural area. Open roads, this city driving isn’t for me,” she explained stepping in beside him to stare out at the city. “I’m in the city because it’s so different from where I grew up. What about you? Why aren’t you going home to your family?”

“I have no interest,” Negan answered her, his eyebrows bouncing up when he turned to look out at the city with her. “Like you, I didn’t have a great father. He pretended he was, but his actions spoke louder than his words. I always wanted to go to New York City when I was a kid. Especially after my dad came back from a work trip once with one of those lady liberty bobble heads. He told me how big the world was and promised to bring me here. But he never did. Something always came up. With everything really. We never did anything as a family. It was always just me and my mom.”

“And your mother?” she wondered seeing Negan shake his head and bite down on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Negan whispered sucking in a sharp breath of air. Pulling the bottle up to his lips again, he took another long swig of the alcohol and then handed it back to her. “I moved to the city with my wife. We were two kids that grew up in the suburbs and we so badly wanted to escape it. I originally wanted to be a ball player, but I hurt myself. So I went with what I was good at and it was art. Who knew that just drawing random things would get me…here. I just thought it was a bunch of bullshit that I did when I was bored. I never realized I could make this much doing a silly hobby.”

“Wife?” she repeated what he said, her expression confused when she looked to him. Negan tipped his head to the side and reached for something that was around his neck to pull out a necklace that was there. It drew attention to the three rings that were there and she let out a loud exhale realizing where this was going. “You’re…”

“A widower? Yeah,” Negan responded with a huff, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when he shifted on his feet.

“How long?” she felt bad for even bringing it up noticing the change in Negan’s demeanor when he dropped the rings back at the center of his chest.

“She passed away two years ago. It’s why I’m trying this whole trip away with the girlfriend and the kids,” Negan informed her and he could see her eyes getting bigger when she clearly had no idea that he had children. “Yeah, I have a boy and a girl. My son is thirteen and my daughter is seven. Maybe if you actually make it to the other side of my desk one day you can see photos of them.”

“I’m so sorry,” she swallowed down hard looking out across the city feeling like an asshole that she didn’t even know about his family. “I don’t really know anything about you.”

“It’s not your job to know who I am,” Negan replied to her, outstretching his hand for the bottle of alcohol again obviously needing this sip after everything that he was talking to her about. His eyes were damp and there was guilt that ate away at her watching him drink. “What about your fiancé?”

“I met him when I was working in another city. He was a pizza delivery guy,” she informed Negan seeing him smirk and gaze over at her. “He’s really nice and sweet.”

“You don’t seem like the type that likes really nice and sweet,” Negan commented and she turned to give him a once over.

“I like pizza,” she said in a rebuttal making the both of them chuckle. Stealing back the bottle from him, she sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I panicked.”

“Come again?” Negan’s eyebrow arched when she looked down at the ring that was on her finger.

“I panicked. He asked me to marry him out in front of a bunch of people and he’s so nice that I didn’t want to embarrass him,” she looked to her hand where the ring was and she shook her head. “I enjoy his company, but marrying him? I don’t know. I thought relationships were supposed to fuel you. Excite you. Make you feel endless amounts of passion…”

“Sounds like you shouldn’t be engaged,” Negan noted letting out a tense breath when he noticed how hard it was starting to snow.

“What about your girlfriend?” she questioned hearing Negan scoff and he pushed his hands back into his pockets. “What?”

“I was lonely,” Negan informed her tipping forward onto his toes and then back onto his heels while they just got to know one another. “The first time I met her she was ready to rip my head off over the last drink at one of the street vendors. I guess I like em’ feisty.”

“I see,” she shook her head, moving back for her desk to set the bottle of alcohol down and reach for her laptop. “I guess we should pick which one we want so that way we can get home to the two people that neither one of us should really be with.”

“Well that’s bold of you to suggest,” Negan’s nose wrinkled when she moved over toward the couch that was in her office. Heading over to the couch to sit down in beside her, Negan leaned forward and rest his elbows on his knees. “I guess since you want me to be honest with you, I hate both the colors of the final two designs. For a New Years campaign, I find the colors to be mundane and depressing. New Years is supposed to be bright, happy, exciting for the possibility of a new year…it’s meant to draw people in and they are supposed to be feel good about the holiday. The colors that you chose feel like they were picked by someone that is…sad.”

“Really?” she looked to the two designs that they had up, surveying over them. “I think they look sharp.”

“Sure, they look sharp, but the colors promote a sense of sadness. Trust me, I would know,” Negan explained circling his finger at her screen where the two designs were up. “That’s why I told you to pick because I don’t like either color. The design, I like. The colors, I don’t.”

“Why?” she turned her head to stare out at him and he huffed in response.

“Because color theory says certain colors draw people to feeling a certain way and…” he began to answer, but she shook her head to interrupt him from going on. “What?”

“Why are you sad?” she inquired having his hazel eyes hooked with hers and he let out a nervous laugh. “You’re sad. Why?”

“You know why,” Negan slurred, looking down toward his feet shifting beside her knowing that he was becoming uncomfortable. “Why are you sad?”

“Why would you think I’m sad?” she countered seeing the smirk that tugged at his chiseled features. “I just got a great job, I’m engaged, I have everything I’ve ever wanted in life…”

“Do you?” Negan wondered, tipping his head to the side when he looked to her again. “Your design choices read someone who is depressed and with certain projects it hits a certain crowd, but with things like this…it’s just not going to work. So why are you sad?”

“You’re infuriating,” she scoffed, leaning back on the couch while they spoke about the designs. “One conversation and you think you know everything about me.”

“Yeah, I know it’s shocking, but I fucking listen to people when they talk to me,” Negan snorted, turning to face her with his jaw clenching. “Contrary to popular belief, I do occasionally know how to shut up and listen. I also know what it was like to be sad because some of my best work I cranked out when I was fucking sad because I buried myself in it. I still bury myself in it. Other than my kids, work is my only escape from the things that I’m feeling.”

“That’s you Negan, not me,” she pushed further, her chest tightening when his eyes narrowed out at her. “I know what I said earlier about my fiancé, but I was drinking and…”

“Being honest?” Negan inquired, his eyebrows bouncing up as he surveyed her over. “Sometimes drunk words are the truest words. Sad recognizes sad because you are just like me. Maybe not for the same reason, but I can spot one when I see one.”

Staring out at Negan, she felt her breathing heavy, her heart racing while he shook his head and nodded back toward the art, “Maybe if we just send them both of these, they can pick the one they are most interested in and…”

A surprised sound fell from Negan’s throat when she reached out to grab a hold of his chiseled jawline to tug him towards her. Their lips crashed together and at first Negan was stiff against her. This was never a position that he ever thought they would find themselves in. Especially with how negative she was toward him throughout her time at the company so far.

Being this close to him allowed the scent of his cologne to intensify and that was something she always found so appealing about him whenever she was near him. His scent was unique to him. Whether it was his musky cologne, his cigarette that he may have snuck in during a break or his mint gum that he used to cover it up with. From his deep raspy voice to his scent…she always knew when Negan was around. She didn’t know what had gotten into her. Maybe it was the alcohol or the conversation, but she had a desperation to kiss him. Even if it was wrong considering her position at the company.

Letting the kiss linger, she knew it was an awkward first kiss, but it was an opportunity she couldn’t resist. Pulling back slightly had Negan’s long eyelashes fluttering, his eyelids heavy and narrowed. Waiting, she didn’t know how to react until she felt Negan’s index finger curling in underneath her chin to bring her closer to him. The rough pad of his thumb swept over her jawline and the warmth from his breath lingered over her lips causing a chill to flood her body. There was something in the way that Negan looked at her that took her breath away. Surprisingly enough, she was immune to it for most of the time, but in this moment, she was hooked. She was pretty sure that he knew that.

“You are so beautiful,” Negan slurred, his thumb causing her to shudder when it brushed against her skin. Getting close enough to just barely drag his bottom lip over hers caused her eyes to come to a close. Just having the warmth of his breath over hers had chills flooding her veins. Her face grew hot when his lips finally claimed hers. It started off slow at first, testing the waters between them. This was a much better kiss than the first one. The one she had done originally was a quick thing that came out of nowhere. This was thought out and with every sweep of his lips over hers, it had her falling in closer to him. Kissing Negan made everything feel like it stopped. The worries of getting this project done were no longer a problem in her mind. They didn’t exist. Each caress of Negan’s lips were almost perfect, his fingers sliding up the lengths of her jawline, down over the side of her neck and then around the back of her neck to curl around it. Goosebumps developed over her body from the chills he was drawing out of her. A tender flick of his tongue pressed at her lips, testing if she was okay with the idea. Parting her lips, she gave him permission allowing his head to tip to the side to brush the warmth of his tongue against hers. Returning the gesture had him moaning against her lips. Tremoring in his grasps, she knew that she was hooked.

Pulling back, her breathing was labored and her lips parted. There was something in Negan’s eyes that she couldn’t quite read with his stare locked on hers. His pupils were dilated with lust, his eyes falling back to her lips again when he slid in closer to her on the couch. Closing the distance between them, Negan’s hand pressed in over her bare shoulder, his rough fingertips caressing over her skin in a tender moment before his nose nudged hers.

Stealing another kiss from her lips, Negan dropped his other arm to hook it around her waist, pulling her in closer to him. Their kisses grew more intense making the both of them breathless. Every touch grew stronger, more desperate with their tongues fighting for some kind of dominance.

“Stop,” Negan tore himself away from her, standing up from the couch and holding his hands up in the air when he backstepped. His chest was rising and falling heavily, his lips parted and his breathing labored. “This is wrong. You’re engaged, we’re both drunk and…”

“I thought you were the naughty type, Negan,” she stood up from the couch, moving forward to place her fingers over the center of his chest. Leading him back toward the large glass window panels of the building, she heard a breath catch in his throat when his back hit the coolness of them. His eyes followed the movements of her fingers and he wasn’t eager to push her away. “Now why don’t you let me play nice and do what we both want here.”

Brazenly, she reached between them to caress over the center of his pants in confident touches. Groaning out, Negan’s eyes grew heavy with lust and he inhaled sharply. Leaning his head back, he couldn’t find the strength to tell her no. She was right. They both wanted this. Confidently, she stepped forward to tip up on her toes to kiss over his chiseled jawline causing him to tip his head to give her more access to him. Wet kisses were peppered across his thick neck and it had faint moans falling from his throat. Sliding his hands down over her sides, Negan pulled her close to him wanting to feel the heat of her body next to his. It contrasted well with the coolness of the window against his back.

“You work so hard Negan,” she whispered, nibbling at his earlobe when her free hand lifted to grab a tight hold of his neck. It made him wince, his head turning to lock eyes with hers. Continuing her caress over him had his cock growing harder with each touch beneath his black slacks that he was wearing. The vein at the side of his neck was bulging and everything about him right now was incredibly sexy. He was both dominant and submissive, giving into the desires of what she seemed to want from him. And the fact he gave her that? That made him so much sexier to her. “Maybe it’s time I rewarded you for all of that.”

A wolfish smile tugged at his lips when she pulled her hand away from his pants to reach up. Plucking the top button open on his dress shirt had him exhaling loudly, his eyes watching her every movement. In this light it was easy to see how long Negan’s eyelashes were and it drew her to the beautiful hazel coloring of them. Even the scene felt perfect in this moment for her. Having Negan pressed against the glass paneling with the night lights of the sky behind him. It was snowing and it gave everything a dreamy feel.

Tipping in, she peppered wet kisses over his revealed flesh with every button she would undo on his shirt. What was nice about Negan was that he was very verbal about the things he liked. He’d praise her with the sweep of his thumb over the side of her face while she kissed over his body. Negan’s body was slender, but gorgeous in every meaning of the word. Once the material of his shirt was separated, she tugged at it to get it out from his pants and pushed at the sides. Kissing over the soft patch of flesh that was under his navel had him breathing louder, his fingers sinking into her hair. Nipping at the skin, she found a rush of courage in the way Negan was looking down at her.

Standing up, she tugged at the material of Negan’s shirt to get it down his arms to reveal the tattoos over his body. It locked his wrists together making it hard for him to move while she took all of him in. At first it was his tattoo over his pectoral muscle that drew her attention. Tracing over it with her fingertips had Negan’s breathing growing louder. Extending her fingers out, she caressed up over his shoulder to gaze over the tattoos that were there and it made her throat go dry.

“Look at you,” she breathed out, dragging her fingers across his flesh to trace down over the center of his chest. Twisting her fingers through the dark curls of hair that covered his flesh, she stepped forward and saw his Adam’s apple bounce in his throat. Flattening her hands out over his abdomen, she slid them up toward his chest and out over his shoulders to trace them over the tattoos that were there. “Not only are you an artist, but your body is art too.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan slurred enjoying the way that she was touching him. It had been a while since someone had looked at him like she was. It was driving him crazy having her lips so near to his without her kissing him. Tipping forward, he nudged her nose with his alerting her to the fact that he wanted to kiss her again.

Bringing their mouths together, Negan flicked his tongue at the inside of her bottom lip having her purr against his mouth. Tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth, Negan growled and kissed over the side of her face toward her jawline. Dropping her hands, she worked open the belt in Negan’s pants and eagerly pulled them open. Once she had the zipper down, she unhurriedly pushed the material of his pants and boxer briefs down to the bottom of his waist. Cooing out, she enjoyed the way Negan’s short beard teased at her flesh while he pampered her neck with hot, wet kisses.

“Jesus,” she breathed out, stealing a look down between them to get a look at his solid erection. A chill flooded his body at her response. Carefully, she extended her fingers out to curl them around his girthy arousal. At first, she tested him in her palm learning his body and she found herself in awe of him.  

“Thanks,” Negan wiggled his arms just enough to get his shirt back up over his shoulders so his wrists weren’t locked in place. Lifting his hand, he curled his long fingers around the back of her neck to urge her back to him to kiss him. Their kisses were strong, each of them fighting for some kind of control in things like they often would in their work. Each caress of her hand over his distended flesh grew harder and it kick started his heartrate.

Grunting out, Negan felt her pushing into the center of his throat with her free hand to get him to drop his head back against the glass window. Inhaling sharply, he watched her smirk and then lower down slowly to her knees after kissing down over his abdomen. Dropping his stare, he knew he didn’t want to miss this. She continued to jerk him off, getting him completely solid in all of his glory with her touch. Arching his hips forward toward her, Negan knew that she was playing with him in the way that she was kissing over his hips.

“I thought you were going to reward me?” Negan frowned knowing that she seemed pretty eager to be doting on his body, but he wanted more. His comment got her to lift her eyes up, a smirk pressing in over her lips when her kisses grew closer to his masculinity. Sucking at his bottom lip, Negan huffed when her lips teasingly kissed at the shaft of his cock. Licking his lips, Negan knew she liked to be in control of things so he allowed her to be. With her wet lips kissing over the length of his body, it had his muscles tightening, his hips pressing forward in closer to her and a rumble fell from his throat. “Y/N…”

“Patience Negan,” she hushed him having his fingers sinking into her hair. It felt good to be in this position. Having someone desperate for her, holding onto her like Negan was. Purring out against his flesh had him dropping his head down, a moan falling from his throat that turned her on sending a chill to her very core. “There is a lot of you to cherish.”

“There is,” Negan snickered, his fingers caressing at her scalp when her lips finally found their way to the tip of his cock. Dragging her tongue out over the ridges had him bucking forward toward her again enjoying the way that it felt. A deep, raspy moan escaped him when her tongue flattened out and dragged over the tip. “Fuck.”

Fighting to keep his eyes open, Negan knew this wasn’t something he wanted to soon forget when her lips finally wrapped around his body to take the tip between her wet lips. Lapping her tongue at him had her collecting the taste from him at the tip. Swallowing down hard, Negan bit down on his bottom lip and was glad the party ended. They weren’t being quiet and if someone was here, they would hear them. Moaning out, Negan felt his heart skip a beat when she took him further back down her throat before unhurriedly pulling her head back, dragging her tongue along the underside of his shaft. It was slow, focused and done in a teasing fashion. And she repeated the movement several times leaving him wanting more. Her hand caressed over the lower half while she pampered the upper half with the welcomed warmth of her talented mouth. Every bob of her head over his erection was cherished knowing that while this was a gift for him, she also seemed to be enjoying herself just as much. Knowing that she found pleasure in giving him a blowjob made this so much more appealing for him.

Watching her was a reward in itself. Tipping his head to the side, he felt one of her hands sliding up over his hip to caress over it. It slid over his side toward his small, tight bottom to give it a firm squeeze drawing him forward and further down her throat.

“Fucking hell,” Negan panted when her other hand worked over the base of his erection to caress over it in tempo with the movements her mouth was making over him. What he should have been doing was stopping this, but he didn’t want to. They were both intoxicated. They drank a lot. But he didn’t want to stop this. Not one bit. Stroking his fingers through her hair, Negan found himself enchanted with her while she pleasured him. Every movement, every stroke of her tongue was meticulous and perfect just like her work at her job. Tugging on her hair, Negan pulled her head back with a wet sound when his cock pulled from her mouth. With her wet lips glistening and her eyes staring up at him with a desire that he hadn’t seen in so long, Negan lowered down, his fingers grasping tightly to her jawline. “You certainly don’t half ass anything, do you?”

“Never,” she breathed out with a tiny smirk, gasping when his lips hammered down over hers kissing her with all the power that he could muster up. Tugging at the strap of the black dress that she was wearing, Negan managed to pull the dress down over her breast to reveal it to him. Kissing over her shoulder had her cooing out until his lips pressed down to cover her breast. Circling his tongue over the flesh had her fingers sinking into his hair while he pampered her flesh with the talented caress of his tongue. Urging him back, she dragged her thumb across his wet lips and felt him kissing at the pad of her thumb. “If you like having a woman in charge so much, show me what you can do with that mouth since you are so talented at winning people over with it.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan growled, scrambling forward to pick her up in his arms. Heading over toward her desk, he laid her out across the top of it hearing her gasp with how swiftly he was moving. Palming down over the side of her face, Negan’s eyelids were heavy with want while he gazed over her. “You are so fucking beautiful…”

“Negan,” she stammered his name before he hushed her, leaning his head toward her palm to press a kiss over the center of it. Hearing him saying how beautiful she was had her swooning more than she cared to admit. Hooking his arms under her thighs, Negan pulled her toward the edge of the desk and caressed over her hips. Pushing the dress up over her body, he stopped when he got it to her navel. Sinking his fingers into the hem of her panties, he pulled them down her body, his eyes locked with hers when he saw the nervous breath that fell from her lips.

“Everything is going to be okay, Boss,” Negan dragged his tongue out over his bottom lip, a wicked smirk tugging at his handsome lips. It drew attention to those ridiculously charming dimples of his and it made her heart flutter.

Raising her head up, she watched Negan kiss over the inside of her thigh. His eyes were hooked with hers watching her reactions to what he was doing. Dragging his lips over her flesh, he stopped when he reached her core seeing her eyes coming to a tight close with her head tipping back. The warmth of his breath over her drew her to let out a whimper and it made him smile. Finally leaning forward, he pressed faint kisses over her flesh knowing that it was teasing her, but he felt like she kind of deserved that after all the shit she put him through. Gradually, he allowed his kisses to grow in strength, having her hips rise up toward him with every touch. Hooking his arms around her thighs, he pulled her close to him and grasped firmly to her hips with his hands. Wetting his lips, Negan growled before extending his tongue out to drag a line up over the length of her sex and then back down. Teasing his tongue around her clitoris in slow circular motions, Negan took his time to slurp at her sensitive bundle of nerves before peppering her body with wet kisses.

Dropping her hand down, she sank her fingers into his hair having an amused rumble follow from his throat that vibrated against her flesh having her arch up toward him. Purring out, she couldn’t help but enjoy the grasp he had on her hips wondering if it would leave a mark with how hard he was holding onto her. Pulling his right hand away, he tipped his head back to draw a line over her sensitive folds with his long, slender fingers. Circling her entrance with his fingertips had her whining out, before he unhurriedly pushed his middle finger inside of her drawing her hips up toward him. Humming out, Negan wolfishly smiled when he started to thrust his finger inside of her finding the areas she seemed to like the most before adding another finger. Allowing her to get used to the motions, he set a sturdy tempo with his fingers once he found her g-spot. It had her bouncing up toward him, her breathless whimpers growing louder while he had his way with her. Wetting his lips once more, he went back to pleasuring her, his tongue circling her clitoris before slowly shaking his head from side to side.

“Almost,” she cried out feeling a fire burning deep within her veins that had her clutching to both his hair and the side of the desk. Wet sounds filtered through the air while the strength of Negan’s tongue grew stronger. Slamming her eyes shut, she moaned out and heard the satisfied sound that came from Negan when her body shook against him. Instead of stopping, he continued to pleasure her until she yanked back on his hair with her heart hammering in her chest. As his fingers dragged from out of her, she couldn’t help but whimper from the sensation it left her with. “Fuck, Negan.”

“Do you want me?” Negan wondered, his eyebrows furrowing before he turned to press a wet kiss over the inside of her thigh. Biting at her flesh had her purring out when she gave him a firm nod. Standing up from where he was knelt before her, Negan swallowed down hard and looked down at his rigid length seeing her eyes falling upon it. Standing up, Negan wrapped his long, slender digits around his cock to caress over it slowly. Pressing forward, Negan made sure that she was right at the edge of the desk before grabbing a hold of his erection to drag the swollen tip through her wet folds. “You know, you let people think you’re the nice type, but I’m fairly fucking certain you’re the naughtiest of girls. Aren’t you?”

“I can be,” she mewled out when the tip of his heavy cock dragged across her already sensitive clitoris. An arrogant expression flooded Negan’s features when he tapped his cock against her body having her arch up toward him. Smirking, Negan used his free hand to reach for the bottle of alcohol to steal another swig of it before setting it down somewhere other than the desk for it to be safe along with the glass that she had placed on her desk previously. “I’ll be as naughty or nice as you want me to be.”

“I like that,” Negan slurred, his eyes lowering to watch while he traced himself over her body. With every touch it had her tremoring just that much more and it made him smile. Adjusting his body, he reached between them and led the tip of his cock to her entrance. Pushing slightly forward had her body tensing up and he lowered his upper half over her, bracing with one of his hands on the table while the other curled under her hips to bring her up toward him. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Strangely enough, I trust you,” she breathed out, her hand reaching up to caress over the side of his face while his lips lingered over hers. Locking eyes with him, she felt him reaching between them again when he led himself toward her once more. When he was lined up, his lips pressed in over hers trying to keep her focused on him and his kisses when he managed to sink the tip into her drawing her to whimper against his lips. Filling her with just a small amount, he allowed her to get used to him when he hovered his lips over hers.

“I’m your first big dick, aren’t I?” Negan inquired, finally taking the time to push forward just a bit more hearing her whine. It caused her to lift her head up to look between them to see how much he had inside of her. “If you can’t take it, we can stop.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she assured him with a pant, clinging tightly to his shoulders while she tried to roll her hips up closer to him urging him further inside of her. “It’s just new for me. I can take anything. Just go slow. Please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan growled, kissing her once more allowing her to pull him in closer to her. Their kisses grew in strength more determined to be closer in this moment to get her used to the whole thing. Slowly her hips rocked over his length, allowing her body to get accustomed to what was inside of her already. Faint moans were falling from his throat while she took her time with him. It was strange how intimate this actually felt with them at first with their kissing, touching and the careful movements she made under him. For so long he saw her as a badass that was unbreakable, but with her under him he realized how fragile she actually was. Just like him. Tough on the exterior but broken on the inside. And it drew him to her. Peppering kisses over her lips, Negan felt her right hand caressing down over his back toward his bottom to urge him to start moving. Rolling his hips forward had them both moaning out in unison. Hovering his lips over hers, Negan pulled back before pushing forward again loving the way he felt inside of her. It felt like she was made for him. The warmth of her body drawing him to her again and again when he brought their lips together.

“Harder,” she ordered, nibbling at his bottom lip and he pulled back just enough to stare down at her.

“You sure?” Negan confirmed with her watching the smile tug at the corners of her lips.

“You won’t break me,” she promised making him smile when he gave her one single nod. Obeying her orders, Negan started to quicken his thrusts adding some power behind every thrust forward and pull back he made. It had some of the things on her desk falling over, but neither one of them seemed to care. They were just lost in the moment. Her nails bit into his back through the material of his long-sleeved dress shirt that he was still wearing. With Negan giving her a taste of everything that he had, it left her with a full, stretching feeling that she rocked her hips up toward. The sounds that Negan made had chills flooding her body. Negan’s deep, raspy voice was sexy already, but to hear it paired with his moans was driving her wild with desire. “Fuck Negan.”

“You feel so good. So fucking tight,” Negan hissed, grasping onto the table tightly to help give him strength in bringing his hips forward to smack up against her. Tossing his head back, his throat tensed, the vein at the side of his neck bulging more than normal while he pounded away inside of her. “How many orgasms do you want?”

“It doesn’t work like that?” she mused, her whines growing louder with the way that Negan moved inside of her. There was determination in the movements while she clung tightly to him, the tip of his cock hitting all the right spots inside of her with their fluid movements. “I need to be able to make it home.”

“How many?” Negan growled, his lips hovering over hers and she didn’t have an answer for him. Pushing forward, Negan used his strength to plunge himself into her in reckless abandon until he heard her squeal out and pull her hips away from him leaving him a breathless mess laying over her. Her hips shook, her eyes slammed shut when he got her to an orgasm that seemed to absolutely rock her world. An amused growl followed with him kissing down over her jawline and over her neck to place a bite there. “You’re a squirter. Good. I like that.”

“Give me a second,” she begged, her hand placing over Negan’s abdomen to keep a distance between them while she panted beneath him. Her thighs were still quivering and she couldn’t believe what just happened. Lifting her head, she whimpered and shook her head. “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Negan snickered, his lips covering hers with hot, wet kisses that drew her to him all over again. “Something tells me I’m the first to do that to you. Which kinda makes me proud to be honest with you and I want to keep doing it.”

“I have to make it home Negan,” she whined feeling one of his hands reach between them to caress over her incredibly sensitive body.

“We’ll share a car and I’ll make sure you get home,” Negan whispered, nibbling at her bottom lip while caressing over her body in tender sweeps. With her pressing into his shoulder just enough to get him to back up, he let out a hesitant sound and frowned. “Everything okay?”

“Come…” she pulled herself up from the table on wobbly legs, reaching for his hand. Accepting her hand in his, he followed her over toward the large glass windows. Smirking, Negan got the hint of what she wanted and it excited him. Giving her a quick kiss, Negan chuckled when he pulled back and urged her to face the window. Placing her hands up against the glass panel, Negan moved in behind her and caressed over the lengths of her body. Purring out, she felt Negan’s lips over the side of her neck with his body close behind her. Staring out into the night, she felt Negan’s fingers curling around her neck in a possessive grasp. “It’s beautiful outside tonight.”

“It is,” he slurred against her flesh, placing tiny bites over her skin before rubbing his cheek in against hers. Palming in over her abdomen and up toward her breast, Negan squeezed tenderly at her body and smirked. “You’re fucking kinky. You know that?”

“You like it,” she looked back over her shoulder to have him deposit a wet kiss over her lips where she faintly sucked at his tongue when it brushed between her wet lips.

“I love it,” he replied back with a mischievous sound, kicking apart her legs enough to get her how he needed her. Positioning her hips where he needed them, his fingers dug into her flesh and he adjusted his hips behind her. “Enjoy the sights…”

Wincing, the sensation of him leading his cock to her opening was felt and she bit down on her bottom lip. Sinking into her with ease had Negan smacking his groin up against her bottom. It had her falling in against the window, whimpering out with how sensitive she already was. Negan followed her movements, pulling his hips back slightly before thrusting forward again. Dropping her head back left her neck open for him to pamper her flesh with hot kisses again. One more firm thrust got her up on her tiptoes and he suddenly became stagnant inside of her.

“Damn it Negan,” she whined, her hips bouncing back toward his length getting his body deeper inside of her warmth. What followed was his raspy moan with him nuzzling his nose in against the side of her neck. Negan’s fingers dug harder into her flesh leaving her wondering if it would leave marks. “Please…”

“Take a minute,” he instructed, one of his hands reaching around to bring his rough fingertips to her sensitive bundle of nerves. Stroking them in a circular motion over her body had her crying out. “I don’t know whether this is my Christmas gift to you or yours to me. Because now that I’ve been inside of you, it’s all I’m going to think about.”

“It’s both,” she responded knowing that with how big Negan was, she would be feeling him for a while. Rocking her hips toward his caress both felt good and hurt because she wanted him so badly to move inside of her, but he was just keeping still for a moment. It was probably a good thing they were in one of the taller buildings in the city. Sure it was during the middle of a snowstorm, but what they were doing was downright crude. “You feel perfect inside of me.”

Snickering against her flesh, Negan finally gave her what she wanted by unhurriedly thrusting behind her. Their skin smacking was loud enough to hear with the power of his thrusts that gradually got quicker. His fingers continued to stroke over her body, in tempo with the thrusts he made behind her. Trying to brace herself against the window, she knew that by the way the fire was growing at the pit of her belly that Negan was leading her up to another orgasm.

“You’re a surprise, you know that?” Negan growled, nipping at her earlobe while she eagerly bounced her hips back into him. “Here you are, so many floors up in the middle of the city during a snowstorm wanting me to fuck you. You’re wild and you need someone just as wild as you to tame you.”

“Then tame me Negan,” she hissed out allowing him to take her words as encouragement. His hand that was over her hip lifted and he curled his fingers around her jaw. Every thrust was hard, his hips angling just right to fill her in the best ways. Wet sounds surrounded them and she knew that this was going to be a mess that they would have to clean up after. Moaning out his name, she was surprised what her body was actually capable with him when she pulled up and away from Negan when he got her to another orgasm. “Fuck…”

“Good girl,” Negan praised her, his fingers slowing down over her clitoris while she panted and rest her head against the glass. Lifting his hands up, he hooked his fingers with hers and adjusted behind her. Once his cock filled her again, she was whimpering with every movement he made. Tightly her fingers clung to his while he smacked up against her repeatedly. “I think this is the best work we’ve ever done together, don’t you?”

“Undoubtedly,” she licked her lips, agreeing with him wondering what they must have looked like from down below pressed up against the glass fucking. Every plunge he made inside of her had her cries surrounding them and what she loved was the sound of Negan’s moans against the side of her neck. They had a steady pace between them that they both seemed to enjoy and she met his thrusts with the greatest amounts of enthusiasm. She liked the way he felt inside of her. Hitting all the places she rarely felt with others. Negan knew what he was doing and he did it well. “Ah…goddamn it…”

“Feel good?” Negan wondered and she huffed. Obviously, it felt good. He knew that.

“So good,” she whimpered, giving him the answer that she knew he wanted. Winces were escaping her with every forward thrust he made and at this point her legs were tremoring. She didn’t know how much more they could take in this position since she was heading for another orgasm again. “Don’t stop, please…”  

Obeying, Negan kept up with what he was doing and heard her cries getting louder while he pounded into her from behind. It had her falling in closer against the window. He followed her movements working to bring her to another orgasm that had her shuddering against him. With his chest pressed against her back, he felt her body contracting around him and it had him nuzzling his nose in against the back of her neck.

“Jesus Negan,” she shuddered, her eyes coming to a slow open. It felt like everything was spinning around her, her whole body numb and shaking with delight from the next orgasm that she was able to achieve with him. “I don’t think I’ve properly been able to appreciate this sight quite like I have right now.”

“Tell me about it,” Negan snickered, pulling back and away from her hearing her whine when his cock pulled from her body. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him sitting down on the couch with his long legs stretched out. Laying back against her couch, Negan allowed one of his arms to wrap around the back of his neck while his erection laid against his lower abdomen.

“My legs feel like Jell-O,” she informed him with a huff, shakily moving across the office to crawl in over Negan. An arrogant smiled tugged at his lips and he tipped his head when she braced her hands over his chest.

“Take your time,” Negan slurred, his hands dropping down over her hips when she reached between them to lead his rigid manhood back inside of her sensitive body. His head tipped back, a rumble of a moan falling from his throat while she took all of him, rocking her hips in a circular motion over him at first. Pushing his hands up, he cupped her breasts and sighed.

Starting to move her body carefully over him, she took her time building up the speed of her hips over his and Negan hummed in approval. Lifting up from the couch, his mouth pressed kisses over her neck and toward her chest where he pampered her breasts with more heated kisses. Clinging to his shoulders, she knew that she only had so much in her left, but it was obvious Negan was the same way. His moans grew louder, his lips finding hers when she quickened the bouncing of her hips over his length.

“I’m going to come,” he informed her, tipping his head back to stare up at her looking between the two of them watching his cock disappearing into her time and time again. Wincing, Negan bit down on his bottom lip and felt her tugging at his thick hair. “Fuck…”

Negan’s moan vibrated against her lips with the warmth of his release inside of her starting to fill her. It felt good. Really good. With him deep inside of her, she could feel his cock throbbing and pulsating with every movement she made. Soon the sounds their bodies made together sounded naughtier while he kissed her with everything he had.

“Fucking hell,” Negan’s head dropped down when her movements slowed down and he rest his head against her chest. Her fingers stroked through his wet hair and it was like the room was spinning around him. For a while they just sat there holding one another. Strangely, the thing he felt the most right now was confusion. Confusion for how he was feeling after all of this. Tipping his head back, Negan found himself in awe when her hand stroked over the side of his face. “Are we okay?”

“Do you mean with the sex?” she inquired, trying to gain her breath back while Negan was going soft inside of her. “I’ve really only been with my fiancé for a very long time and we’re always usually safe. I’m on the pill. Why? Do you have a lot of partners?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. But not really. It was my wife and after she passed, my girlfriend on occasion, but we use protection which I realize we should have done here, but…” Negan rambled off finding himself at a loss in this discussion and he shook his head. “I mean…this…us…”

Pushing into his chest, Y/N got Negan to lay back against the couch and she laid in over him, her head resting over the center of his chest listening to his heart pounding beneath her. The steady rhythm of it was beautiful to her and she sighed. Stroking his fingers over her shoulders, he found himself actually really liking this.

“Y/N, I like you,” Negan informed her feeling her lips pressing faint kisses at the center of his chest. “Like, a lot.”

“I like you too,” she responded, her fingers circling throughout the wet hair covering his chest. Lifting her head she could see there was a seriousness in his eyes and she pushed up on her hands. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what we just did…I’ve never connected with my girlfriend like I did tonight with you,” Negan reasoned with her, brushing his rough fingertips over the curve of her jawline. “I know this was just supposed to be a fuck and it was great, but…”

“It’s because you got me to squirt,” she chuckled and Negan rolled his eyes before shaking his head. “You have a girlfriend, I have a fiancé…”

“That neither one of us like,” Negan reminded her and her face twisted with an emotion that he couldn’t read. “Scratch that, we like them, but we don’t belong with them. We both proved that tonight with us doing this. Let’s not make this a onetime thing.”

“Work wouldn’t let us do that,” she pulled up and away from Negan, reaching for her dress that was bunched at her abdomen working to pull it back over her breasts. “You know that it’s against the rules.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit and you know that. They just don’t want people fighting at work. That’s it,” Negan snorted, throwing his hand up in the air. “Dwight and Sherry are married. They met here. The boss and his wife work here. If we’re able to work together and try something…”

“Not gonna lie Negan, this is a bit fast,” she sat up straighter on the couch after she pushed her dress back down her hips. “Yeah, I like you…”

“Then let’s do something about it,” Negan suggested, his throat tensing up. “I’ll tell my girlfriend that I’m sorry, but things aren’t working out…you told me yourself that the only reason you are engaged to your fiancé is because you felt forced to be. I haven’t felt this way since I was with my wife. I haven’t connected with someone like this.”

“It was sex,” she breathed out letting out a surprised sound when Negan pushed forward to pull her to him to kiss her. It took her breath away and when he pulled back to press his forehead to hers, she couldn’t believe how much it actually affected her. “It would be wrong.”

“What would be wrong is not going forward with what we had here,” Negan waved his fingers back and forth between them. “I’m okay with you being my Boss. I don’t care if you have a better paying job than me. I fucking like you. And us? We’re so much alike. So much.”

“I can’t break up with him over Christmas,” she hummed against his lips when he kissed her again. “It’s the worst time to break up with someone. My fiancé, your girlfriend…let’s just go on this vacation and then see how we feel when we get back. You might just be on a high from the sex.”

“Tell me you don’t feel something between us,” Negan reasoned with her which led her to tip her head to the side and she looked down toward the ground. Standing up, Negan pulled his pants up and over his legs to buckle them together. “And it’s not just the orgasms. We…us…this shit might work.”

“I’ll think about it, I promise,” she answered with a nod of her head, standing up and moving across the space to cup his face in her hands. “Let’s just go on our vacation. Keep in contact since we have to anyways and if we still feel the same way once this whole thing is over. Then yeah, we’ll give it a shot.”

“All right,” Negan agreed to her stipulations, working to button his shirt up while she stood before him. “We’ll do that then.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor​ @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny​ @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune​ @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx​  @insertneganhere​ @haleygreen23​ @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost​ @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight  @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes​ @tone-stark @lanadelnegan

[bokettochild]

Christmas of Closure - Day 3

(belated, I know)

*startles the emails of the poor unfortunate souls still following this series after all this time*

MERRY CHRISTMAS FEATHERED FANS!!!!!!!!

Its my girl Lullaby and I had FUN!!!!!

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 (you are here) | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 (sometime)

Full fic under the cut

-

 The next time they slip through a portal, it’s a very different world than the last few times. 

 It’s not the soft haze of Twilight’s era, or the ethereal quality of the untainted earth in Sky’s. It’s also not the rushing wave of magic characteristic to his own world after Zelda and he had made the wish to undo Ganon’s work over the land. 

 That said, the magic around them is very much alive, and that means that it’s not Hyrule’s world, just as the presence of lush fields means Wind is out of the question. 

 “There’s a road ahead,” Four observes, pointing it out to the rest of them, and Legend’s quick to fix on it even as Wild sounds out a laugh at the sight. 

 “Not my era then!” 

 He’s still not sure way that’s something to find humor in, but he doesn’t ask; it’s Wild, he seems to take anything outside of a battle in stride, regardless of how true his suspicions about it may or may not be. It's an endearing quality though, and goodness knows it’s served him, unintentional though that might have been. 

 At their front, Warriors, much more relaxed since leaving Twilight’s era and its associated memories, nods, looking about the same as the rest of them. “Not mine either, I think.” He doesn’t say how, but nobody asks either. 

 “Legend?” Sky turns back to him, question in the single word. 

 The vet shakes his head, shifting his wings in closer as a breeze blows past them. “The magic is wrong for my time.” 

 “Mine too,” the traveler sounds from behind him, frowning at all the green around them. “It must be before our time, or a very long time after, but if Wild and Warriors say-” 

 “It's mine.” There’s not an ounce of hesitation in the old man’s tone as he quickens his pace, moving to overtake the captain at their front. 

 “You sure?” 

 And the old man is sure, apparently, because regardless of doubts, he’s set off in one direction or another (Legend glances towards the sun briefly to figure out which one) and so they all follow. When Twilight asks, bemused and confused, their eldest just answers “the trees said so”, which isn’t a totally cryptic and weird thing to say at all. 

 Not that he’s never talked to trees himself, but there aren’t trees around them, and last he checked, their old man’s hearing wasn’t that good. Or is it? 

 Whatever the case, they all know where their leader is headed if this is his world, and doubtful as some of them are they follow eagerly. It’s been a very long time since they were last at Lon Lon, and when at last the walls of it appear, he finds Wind tagging his arm with a bright grin and a “race you!” that has all of them breaking off into a sprint. 

 Well, most. Legend’s competitive by nature, as they all are, but in this case, he’s got a bit of advantage, one that even the heroes who can push past the rest with their bulk don’t have. 

 He has wings. 

 Better than that though, he has wings he can use, and use them he does! 

 It’s still hard getting off the ground, but with the momentum he already has and the downhill slope to the ranch before them, he manages okay, spreading out pink feathers for a wide flap that gets him airborne, followed quickly by the shorter ones Sky and Sun had taught him were best for gaining altitude but to refrain from using when soaring. 

 “No fair!” Can be heard from below, even as Sky lets out a whoop and Hyrule breathes some magical words or another that have his own wings flickering into sight, the traveler taking off after him with a short huff of annoyance, most likely at not thinking of doing the same himself before. 

 Well, too bad for him, Legend thinks, tucking wings in for a quick dive down to bap Time on the top of his head, just for the sake of doing so. The old man starts and trips when he does, and it’s all the veteran can do to stay airborne as he watches the rest tumble into each other and over the man as a result. Like so many wooden blocks or tiles, they go stumbling into each other until they’re all flat and the race is forgotten, for only a second, as he and Hyrule watch. 

 It’s not his first time flying since Skyloft, but it is the first time he’s tried going fast since then, and it only came to mind because he’d been wishing for a moment that he was tall enough to not get trampled over, and then realized that he hasn’t a need of height when he can just be above them altogether. Unfortunately, he’s not the only one, and while the rest sort themselves out below, he and Hyrule catch eyes, a spark and a smirk touching the face of the other, and in a breath the two are dart-dashing, wings beating as fast as they can, in order to reach the ranch first. 

 As it turns out, Groose was right about his wings; he’s literally made for speed, for quick motions, even if he does lack the endurance in the sky that he can usually muster on the ground. Hyrule, in contrast, is quick, but like the fairies he gets half his blood from, his wings aren’t meant to cover distance, and more for long bouts of flight. It’s not like bird wings at all, so he’s still fuzzy on the details, but one fact he knows for sure: between the two of them, he’s faster. 

 So yes, he wins, but it does come at the rather unfortunate cost of speeding right past the traveler and almost into the ground when he tries to land. It is only when the ground appears that he remembers that slowing down wasn’t really something they’d practiced much, and with his landings still being clumsy, the result is that he’s rather a bit bruised when he does pull himself up out of the dirt and hay, blessedly having employed his brain at the last second and speeding into the nearest haystack rather than the ground itself.   

 Hyrule’s a flit behind him, still hovering and pealing bell-like laughter as he watches Legend emerge from the pile of dried grass, spitting and coughing and wings fluttering by force of their own to shake free the stalks caught between feathers. “Need help?” 

 “Do I look like I need help?” He tries, shooting a look up at the traveler just as the haystack gives a great sigh of dust and slumps over on top of him. 

 It’s a blessing he grew up between an orchard and a farm, because rather than panic at the sudden increase of weight, the veteran just groans. 

 “Yes please, I need help.” 

 The traveler’s laughter can still be heard as hands catch around his own and start tugging. 

 Legends not unused to burrowing, especially as, in rabbit form, it made for an effective defense mechanism. That said, it’s a very different thing in hylian form, and even more so with two more whole limbs to have to maneuver out of is itchy confines. All the worse too because his wings seem to take a mind of their own some days, and they flutter quiet ceaselessly as Hyrule tugs on him, which he’s not sure actually helps them at all. 

 That’s how the rest come upon them, all sweaty and maybe dirt streaked themselves, but when they see the traveler trying to tug him free from a collapsed pile of hay, they must all figure out what happened to get him there. 

 “Oh, Legend,” Sky chuckles, walking over to offer a hand even as Warriors snorts behind him, trying desperately to cover the sound with his hand and failing as his eyes twinkle. 

 The vet sighs. With his luck, no one is ever going to let him forget about this. Ever. 

 Luckily, nobody actually says anything in the moment, and once he’s been pulled free and given his wings the few flaps that he can to try and shake free his new coat of hay, helped by Sky to brush himself off, they just all head for the house. 

 Upon entering, he very much wishes he’d stayed buried in the hay. 

 It would be one thing if it was just Malon seated at the living room window, face flushed with barely contained laughter and eyes sparkling, but it’s not. No, because there is very much a second person in the room and she’s definitely not Time’s jolly, friendly father-in-law. 

 The other person on the couch, seated by the window and clearly just having witnessed his little blunder, is a woman somehow more hawkish than even Dusk had seemed when he’d first seen her, a notion not at all disproved by the set of great barred wings stretched out behind her. 

 Time, at their front when they’d all moved into the house, draws up short, startled. “Your highness.” 

 The woman doesn’t look a queen, and yet, at the same time, there’s no doubt in any corner of the veteran’s mind that she is one. Her long blonde hair is tied up into a loose braid that hangs over one shoulder, neatly cut but wind ruffled bangs hanging heavy over eyes that somehow aren’t purple, but still sit between red and blue in a way he can’t explain. She’s not dressed like a royal exactly, but the trousers, vest, and white shirt definitely give her an authoritative air, although it seems to have a very short-lived effect on their leader. 

 Very short lived indeed, because the man only takes a moment before frowning and raising a brow at his queen. “Isn’t it a bit early for day-drinking?” 

 On second glance, she’s got a glass in one hand with a small amount of something golden within. 

 Malon, at her side on the couch and looking as much herself as before, not bothered at all by the queen sitting with her, just grins up at her husband, setting her own half-full glass down on a side table. “Now don’t be like that, Link. Her highness jist needed some girl time is all.” 

 “I’m going to need a lot more in a minute here,” the queen rasps, voice between a smooth alto and high tenor, a light scrape on certain sounds as she blinks slowly towards the heroes before her. “Link,” it’s a drawn-out sound that’s half sigh, half scolding “what did you do?” 

 “Excuse me?” 

 There’s a snort behind him, and when Legend risks a glance, Warriors is shaking his head with one of those fond smiles he pulls from time to time when their leader acts particularly unlike his typically mature self. He’s the only one laughing though, as the rest of their number look as confused as Legend himself feels. 

 “Explain,” the whiskey glass is set to a table and huge wings flutter slightly into something more dignified that the sprawled out position they’d been in a moment before, the queen’s almost bi-colored eyes so flat that he can’t tell where they’re looking past her long lashes, “why you’ve been gone for an unknown amount of time, Ocarina at your hip, and just came back with a child that looks like the perfect combination of the two of us?” 

 Malon chokes. 

 Time’s mouth drops open for a moment. 

 The queen is glaring. “Remember that I like her better than you, if you did something dumb-” 

 “I would never!” 

 “He din’ cheat!” The farmwife gasps, but it almost sounds like she’s laughing, face quite red as she settles her own glass down. “Dear Din, Zel, he knows better!” 

 Even so, the queen stares at Time, and then, quite unexpectedly, at himself. 

 Aw crap, why’d he end up near the front of their group? For that matter, when did he stop walking at the back? Good grief, why does this keep happening? 

 “I would never cheat,” Time sighs, lifting a hand to his face as he blinks away some sort of emotion Legend wasn’t quick enough to catch. “Especially not with you.” 

 “So... the kid?” 

 Self-conscious, he tucks his hay-prickled wings in closer and tries to slip off behind their leader and out of sight from the unreadable stare of the queen of Hyrule. He's not sure if that’s a skill learned from wearing the crown or maybe genetic, but he’s rather sure he doesn’t have it. Regardless though, it’s deeply unsettling, seeing as he has absolutely no way to read her thoughts, and while Dusk’s presence had sent off signals in his brain that she could be a threat, that she knew how to fight and could win if she tried, the woman before him is so much more blatant with the way she bleeds power and confidence into the world around her. 

 Dusk was like a rapier, sharp, quick, and beautiful, but this woman is a broadsword, or maybe a claymore; large, threatening, and very, very dangerous. 

 Time, however, doesn’t falter, instead moving further into the invaded living room space and settling down in a chair, armor and all, single eye leveling his queen with the same flat look he shoots the captain sometimes. “Your descendant.” 

 A brow arches. “Just mine?” 

 “Yes.” 

 Twilight, rather loudly, clears his throat. 

 “No.” Time amends, this time looking a bit startled as he glances back to his protege, perhaps realizing for the first time the implications of the relation between Legend and the rancher. “It-” 

 Malon’s already twinkling eyes set on her descendant, a smile slowly blossoming over her face, “wait, did you-” 

 A heavy hand settles on his shoulder, that same familiar gesture, hand familiar, and face, again, still just a bit different, even though the tone is just the same as sounds in his memory. “Legend’s my nephew.” 

 The farm-wife's eyes glow, and in sharp contrast, the queen just arches an imperial looking brow, gaze sliding to Time, expectant, even as Malon jumps up from her seat with a clap of her hands to throw her arms around both her descendant and himself. “That’s amazin’!” 

  Legend, unfortunately, misses most of Time’s explanation, or indeed, any of his further interactions with the queen, because Malon is suddenly all bustle and questions, taking his face up in her hands like she’d done with some of the rest when first meeting and giving him a good looking over before nodding firmly, as though she’s found something. 

  “You must take after yer mum more, bless you, but I see some Lon in you, sure enough!” 

 Which is good, considering that’s sort of his last name and all, but he’s probably better off not saying that. 

 Twilight though, is all smiles, the hand on his shoulder squeezing gently. “Oh yeah, you should see her, there’s no doubt they’re family.” 

 “And yet,” Wild pipes up, smirking at his mentor, “you totally missed it, even when they were standing right in front of each other.” 

 The rancher scowls, face flushing lightly. “Shut up.” 

 - 

 Zelda leaves shortly after they arrive, with a smile for Malon and a word or two with Time that leaves the man smiling in that secret way that none of them have learned to decipher yet.   

 Any questions receive only vague answers, from husband and wife both, so the heroes elect to leave it be, for the time being at least. 

 They settle in on the ranch as they did before. Helping with chores until sundown and gathering for a meal. It’s a warm night so most of the older ones go out to sleep in the barn, blankets and bedrolls tucked under arms as they tease and laugh their way from the house, Warriors leading the lot of them and Twilight and Sky following. As for the rest, they bunk down in the spare room. 

 Morning dawns faster than on Skyloft, and clearer than in the rancher’s world. They’re not up in the sky waiting for the sun to reach them, and there’s not a haze stopping the light from shining in at windows, so, naturally, Legend wakes early. 

 It’s something about being on a farm, he thinks, slipping out of the bed but minding to tuck the blankets back into place so as to not wake his younger brothers. It reminds him of grandmother, of being back at the Lon on in his own era and getting up early to help with the chores and going to bed when the sun set, rather than waiting until he couldn’t travel any longer. It’s sort of nice, and though it’s been years, it’s enough on this side of familiar that he can slip back to it. 

 There’s just one difference; he has brothers asleep in the barn, and Malon and Tie, apparently, aren’t up yet. 

 So, while it’s not like the farm, he elects to go for something else to keep him busy and keep himself awake until he can know what should or shouldn’t be done, and how to do so without upsetting some sleep-deprived elders. Namely, he elects to try again for a proper landing. 

 It’s easier each time he tries taking off, but he fumbles a bit with trying to get his feet under himself before he hits the ground. It’s once, twice, thrice, before he eventually lets himself catch the rope hanging down by the hayloft, wings tucking in close and Mel and Rom’s old tricks slipping to mind instead of Sun’s so he can reach the roof of the barn without slamming into it face first. 

 He’s not expecting to find the queen of Hyrule already sitting up there, gaze fixed on him. 

 His grip slips only a moment before instinct kicks in. Regardless of surprise, he needs to get onto something solid before he addresses the person there already. It’s basic safety after all, especially when working with ropes instead of proper equipment. 

 Gosh, sometimes he really, really misses the traveling troupe. He’s incredibally rusty on his old tricks and acting. 

 It’s only once he’s sitting on the roof, rubbing the sting out of his hands again, that the queen of Hyrule speaks. 

 “You’re up awfully early.” 

 Legend blinks. “Aren’t you here rather early?” 

“I have permission.” She sounds back to the world stretched out before her, otherwise unmoving as she watches it. “Sometimes one needs a bit of quiet before they start the day, and a flight does wonders, something I'm sure you’ll learn once you grow into your own wings.” 

 He frowns, but this time it’s because it’s him considering her, and she, unlike himself, doesn’t slip at all in response. Instead, she just keeps watching the sun slipping up over Hyrule. 

 Shes not like he thought she’d be Legend decides. But that’s about all he does know to think of her. All in all, he finds her confusing. 

 “You want to pull back before you reach for the ground, flare your wings out to catch the air, let it push back against you and slow you down, then you’re more upright and your feet stand a chance of coming before your face.” 

 The words startle him. “What?” 

 “You’re trying to land, no?” Her own wings shift some as she turns about. “You’re young still, and dare I say learning a lot on your own. You risk yourself without knowledge, and the more you know the safer you’ll be. Knowing how to land without leaving yourself open to anything in the air or on the ground that wants to hurt you is a crucial skill to obtain.” 

 For lack of a response, he nods, digesting her previous advice and flexing his own wings some to mimic the motion. 

 “Try it.” 

 So, he does. 

 He pulls himself up, dashes his hair from his eyes, and gives it a try. 

 He trips over his own feet, frustrating himself, but it’s feet that land first, just as she’d said, and even if he does have to drop into a roll, it’s still better than his previous attempts. 

 Wings beats sound shortly after, and then the queen of Hyrule is standing there, watching him. “You take more after him, I think.” She muses, head tilting on one side and face still unreadable. “But that’s to your favor.” 

 “What?” 

 “I give him grief,” she loosens, wings adjusting behind her, shaking themselves rather than tucking in like his own do after a flight. “But he’s a good man. Your appearance shows no sign of him, but your spirit is his; you aren’t giving up because it’s hard, and you’re not folding at the simple sound of a rough word. You do stand a chance in this world.” 

 And then, without another word, she’s gone, wings flaring and taking off, path clearly headed back for the castle. 

 And Legend’s left staring after her and wondering what on earth that was. 

 Turns out, Time tells him later, as they tend the cows in the barn, that’s just Sheik. “Appears, kicks your ass, teaches you something, says something cryptic, and leaves.” 

 “Wondered where you got that from,” twilight snorts from where he’s adding hay to the feeding troughs, eyes dancing with unsounded laughter as he stares at his mentor, but when Time looks up to the younger man in confusion, the rancher is already headed up for the hayloft yet again for more. 

 - 

 It happens again the next morning. They’d left the previous day to deal with a small gathering of monsters, but returned to the ranch at the days end, dropping swords to catch up pitchforks and shovels and helping Malon wrap up the chores for the night before sleepily eating dinner and going to bed. Still, despite the strain of the prior day, Legend still finds himself waking early, and with time on his hands, elects to practice with the advice he’d been handed. 

 Well, not just that. Time has a small training yard in one of the old paddocks that looks like it’s currently out of season, grass nipped to the root already by the bovine occupants who’ve since been moved to literal greener pastures. There’s a few dummies there and, after the prior days battling, Legend’s itching to figure out, and correct, a mistake he’d made prior. 

 It’s hard fighting with wings, remaining airborne or even just using them to his advantage rather than letting the just block his vision and throw him off balance. Not that he’s getting any better against stationary foes, but at least he’s not at risk while he practices spins and turns and slashes. Not that that stops him falling on his ass still, but nothing worth doing comes easy, or so he’s been told. 

 “You’re too loose.” 

 He has no clue where she came from, but his hand sis on his sword and body turned and ready towards the sound of her voice. 

 She’s just standing there though, leant against the fence with not a hair out of place, although that changes as she steps closer, crossed arms loosening into something resembling a boxing pose. “Close to the body, guard yourself. Wings can mend, your neck can’t. Use them to guard it and strike out only when you’re certain of your target.” 

 “Why are you telling me this?” 

 She blinks; it’s sort of like how Wolfie does it when they’re being dumb. “Why am I ensuring another hero doesn’t die because he was under-prepared?” 

 And the words sting, although not just his pride. “You know about that?” 

 “I turned back time for him,” she answers, low, a slight crease of a frown taking otherwise unchanging features. “Just because he doesn’t remember the worlds that created, doesn’t mean I don’t either.” She steps closer, wings flaring out sightly. “It’s a gift of our line; knowing time. Knowing the future, the present the past, and that outside our line. If you’re spared that, consider it a blessing, but yes, I know his many fates.” 

 And again, without a chance for him to answer, she’s giving one great swoop and taking off, leaving him confused, frustrated, and left with only wooden dummies to take it out on. She’s right though; treating his wings like he does his arms when he’s boxing, keeping them held close and pushing the out on either side of himself or flaring them is far more effective than using the for balance as Sun had done. 

 This time though, he keeps their conversation to himself. Time asks, while they do the milking, but his only answer is “same as last time.” No need to dm the morning with talk of death after all, even he knows this. 

- 

 The third morning when it happens, he doesn’t jump as much. 

 That’s not to say he doesn’t jump, but this time he doesn’t swing first thing or almost drop from the top of the barn down onto the ground in a head of bones ad blood or...goop (he’s actually not sure what damage a drop like that would do, if any). 

 He’s trying again this time, and when her voice sounds to correct, he stops rather than shifts to mimic her, and rather than ask “why” yet again, he says “why are you here?” 

 Her hairs loose this time, face less smooth, with heavy shadows beneath bi-colored eyes, and it almost makes him take back his question, but he doesn’t he doesn’t ad for a moment, she doesn’t answer either. Instead, she just stares at him. Stares, blinks, and keeps staring until a familiar front of thorns begs to be employed again as discomfort stirs up in answer to her gaze. 

 “Why act all cryptic and weird? Why...” why him? Sure, a descendant, a hero to a world she knew lost theirs, but... why him specifically? There are other heroes here, other heroes, including one that will care for the world after she’s left it! This world! Maybe not this era, but this timeline! Where’s Twilight’s random info-bombs and weirdness from this lady? 

 And then she just keeps staring, hardly even blinking. “Why not?” And he half expects her to take off right then and there. 

 “I mean, it’s confusing.” 

 “Keeps you on your toes,” she answers, almost before he’s finished. “Keeps you guessing, keeps you trying.” Her head cocks on one side again. “You’re a hero, and an accomplished one if you’re called to join others who are the same, but you’re unbalanced now. Maybe your wings are new, maybe you’ve never used them before,” her own sweep out, but only the one, like a gesture, a wide one, the kind that makes his eyes flit towards the tips of her feathers for just a moment, just in case, before turning back to her face. 

 He's not scared of her exactly, threatening presence regardless; he knows she isn’t going to hurt him, and he’s learned by now that she’d have no reason to, but he’s still confused, and she’s still a stranger to him, one he can’t understand no matter how hard he thinks about it.  

 A slip of a smile tugs her lips, cool and almost chilling if not for the rods that follow, “I was that way once. You have many heroes around you, but none with wings, or at least not the same sort as you. Besides, it’s as I said yesterday; our kind know things. Perhaps you don’t, but I do. I know of sisters throughout time who shared similar struggles, and stood alone. I cannot help them. You’re no sister, you’re too young and while not necessarily unfeminine, you’re still just a boy.” She smirks, “but I suppose there is room for a son in Hylia’s fold, and I know many wouldn’t mind having a little brother, so while I cannot help my sisters, I will do my best by those I can reach. After all, as queen, it’s the least as can be expected of me.” 

 Again, he thinks that’s where she’ll spread her wings, but on the dawn of the third day, she lingers long enough for a few more questions before she departs, and this time, when Twilight and Time ask him, curious as they mind the milking, Legend lets on at least a bit of what he was told. 

 When he does, Time actually stops and stares at him from across the aisle in the barn. “She actually answered your questions?” And then, at his confirmation, the man blinks slowly and turns to glare at the spotted hide of the cow before him. “Oh, so she is capable, she just picks favorites, I see how it is.” 

 Twilight’s laughter is a good sound to start the day, all the more as he lets a bit of his own slip to join it while their leader grumbles and huffs under his breath all the rest of the way through milking and up to the house. 

[spn-con-cliffnotes]

SPN Nash 2024 gold panel

Would you consider doing any more horror movies? What are somethings you liked or miss about the genre? (3:30)

Jen: likes the genre, if opportunity arises then yeah. depends on if a) comes our way b) good project and c) available. depends largely who's involved, and budget size are very telling of quality of project. So close to doing a movie 1-2 years ago (really fun), didn't end up doing it for a variety of reasons, still hasn't watched it (proceeds to say "son of a bitch!"😂).

Jar: they are difficult to film: night filming (6pm-6am)

2. (Christmas question) Do you consider Die Hard Christmas movies? (7:56)

Jar: yeah...

Jen: any movie that takes place during the holidays is a christmas movie!! what's your go-to top 3 *to Jared*:

Jar: love actually, home alone, Christmas vacation

Jen: Jim Carrey's Grinch, Elf, Christmas Vacation. Krampus parade in European countries (speaking of horror), it looks like the orcs from lotr and "the scariest shit i've ever seen"

3. (pt 1: Do y'all drink whiskey?) (11:00) (pt. 2 Least fav memory filming spn?) (11:43)

Jen: "Do you have a question? I mean I guess the quesiton was 'do you drink whiskey' and now i'm holding a bottle in my hands." (11:30) "Should've just stuck with the whiskey question"

Jen: thinks for a minute the entire filming of bugs...

Jar: there was a bee wrangler

4. (16:50) senior in high school asking fav high school memory?

Jar: kind of about the people you stay in touch with. (it may change) and graduation "its been 13 years of your life; almost as long as supernatural" ties it to optimism of next chapter in life

Jen: A in trig (did not deserve) they went to huge high schools. got bullied by upperclassman when younger. getting through it and knowing some people that also experienced it sticks with you for the rest of your life; really special thing. "you only do this high school thing once, get as much as you can out of it"

5. (22:53) Have you ever used a ouija board irl?

Jar: not really?

Jen: used dowsing rods recentlly-ish in his house.

6. (25:17) Favorite meta time in Spn?

Jar: french mistake! (thought it was the end of the show)

Jen: likes the breaking of 4th wall *wink wink nudge nudge at Kripke)

7. (29:48) Jared drinking prop eggnog.

[xxswagcorexx]

the swagcore fic archives will become real in 5:

anyways, hi, i write too much fanfic, but a lot of it is on anon. i know a lot of people go to me for fic recs (you can see a post with More fic recs here) and i'm happy enough with my fics to recommend them to people :) also for funsies i'm gonna put small author's notes after each entry!

the stuff with my name on it:

Swap by cherubium and swagcore

[CLICK] [Jaron]: Statement of Ash…Swag, regarding events surrounding his husband, Red Doons. Statement recorded live from subject on April 4th, 2023, recording by Jaron Yeager from the LIFE Insitute, London,...Ohio. Statement begins. [Ash]: Are you seriously gonna be recording on that? or: a fic written for day 2 of roses and smoke week, swap/horror.

A/N: a collab fic I did with the lovely cherny! all i'll say is that we might have lied a little bit in the beginning notes. heh.

the sleep buoyancy investigation by swagcore

While Fundy walks around his street, he notices an odd poster about researching dreams. Having weird dreams all of his life and with nothing else to do, Fundy grabs the contact information and heads to the address. What possibly could go wrong? - "the sleep buoyancy investigation" is an experimental fic made with Twine. This fic is based on the Stargate Project, a now-defunct project by the CIA to study psychics. Word Count: ~3k

A/N: this fic was so so fun to do. my god. it really gave me my first taste of really experimental fics and that is something i've been playing around with! i do have an idea in mind for another fic like this (which is one of the first fic ideas i had when going into the lifesteal fandom) so! i'm excited for when i actually put my head down and write it!!!

from a windowsill by swagcore

It’s a cold night tonight. As Pearl stares out to the moon, feeling the wind through the tower’s rafters and the howls of the hound army roar from below her, she squints her eyes. There’s supposed to be a blood moon tonight. or: it's late at night, and pearl has some thoughts about the blood moon (and herself)

A/N: i'm going to be real, i'm a dl!pearl sleeper agent. i love her so much and her character is sooooo....*dies*.......she makes me ill!

late night break-ins and henna by swagcore

Ash visits Soc Inc. at the very normal hour of 3 AM on Christmas to give Red a Christmas present.

A/N: fun fact, i wrote most of this on an ipad at one of those friend reunions my dad had with his friends 💀 we were like 8 hours away from our house so i couldn't exactly leave so while on vc with my good friend toast we worked on fics together LOL she's actually the one who came up with the water bottle thing. it was awesome

misc collabs i did:

insufferable hand in insufferable hand by Anonymous

ashswag and reddoons get married in a very thought out, entirely sound plan.

A/N: this was a collab wiith np13, who you might know from "all of the roads led to you". it was actually working on this fic at first, i mentioned wanting to write a swagdoons divorce fic, and it brought me on the team to work on this one. this fic was so silly to work on and i had a great time writing it!!!

the various anon fics i have written:

one and a half cups of stout by Anonymous

Bdubs and Etho leave a party and are now burdened with the task of grocery shopping for cake ingredients. - (or: etho drags bdubs to his apartment so they can bake together)

A/N: god this fic was so fun and fluffy to write. i love baking in general, and the amount of detail i managed to put into this fic and how cozy-feeling it is is something i'm really proud of. fun fact, it's my most viewed and kudosed fic of all time, as well as the first fic i felt really, really proud of!

pommes voyage by Anonymous

headcanon that ren started making potatoes like crazy, like to the amount doc started to check up on him - originally a post meant for tumblr

A/N: this fic was really fun to write as well. it was supposed to be a tumblr post, but i got really carried away (and when i sent a screenshot of it into a gc my friend replied with "that is terrifying", and i decided to leave it as a standalone fic instead of a post) and it's a fun fic to read, methinks

and maybe, you'll find peace in the sun by Anonymous

During the time [x] escapes prison for the dozenth time, [s]he takes a quick detour to pick up some supplies. or: [x] finds an unguarded house in the woods, stealing ingredients so [s]he can make some stew

A/N: alright so, as a disclaimer, this was a fic written before ivorycello transitioned, but for archival purposes, i haven't changed it. for this post, i've made it clear what part i've changed. i'm still proud of this fic, in general, and ivory has since said that her past persona doesn't bother her anymore, so that's why i've included it here. once again though, read with those warnings in mind

the sun vanished by Anonymous

The stars revolve around Planet. It's their little secret, and most don't know enough about the stars to be able to notice. That's why, when they got banned, no one noticed that the sun vanished.

A/N: my first lifesteal fic! i really, really like the ideas in this fic and how i've conveyed them. fun fact i wrote most of this while in the car from homecoming--but i'm really proud with what i managed to beat out considering ost of it was written in a car backseat

dust by Anonymous

After winning Double Life, Pearl has some thoughts about the end of the world while looking at the death menu.

A/N: this fic is AWESOME i love minecraft death screens and like i said before, i'm a dl!pearl enjoyer to the MAX. it's also the first fic i ever had translated, and it was such a nice surprise to see it was translated in my email inbox that morning <3

jackalope by Anonymous

have you heard the myth of the jackalope? (of course you have. who am i kidding.) --- or: a character study on rekrap, as told by the myth of the jackalope

A/N: this was originally for a comic that was, looking back, wayyy too ambitious for my art skill level LOL. i've been brewing it in my brain for a while (hell, even my english teacher at the time looked over at it), and i still find it fun to read. once again, experimental fics ftw!

take your time, we've got all night by Anonymous

It’s rare to find quiet moments like this–moments safe enough for Ash and Red to get some sleep without either of them going on looking shifts. It’s a luxury in the apocalypse. And yet Red still couldn’t get his mind to shut up and let him sleep. Great. or: red can't sleep during the apocalypse. he wakes ash up and both of them spend the night talking about their pasts.

A/N: i'm already a huge sap in the notes, but this is, arguably, one of the most important fics i've ever written. for context, i wrote this while i was really down due to my entire family but me getting covid right before my finals and our winter vacation, so that left me alone in my room for 2 weeks. i was really down, especially since i couldn't spend christmas with my family as a result. however, writing this gave me something to pass the time, and the reception on it when i posted during a dark time in my life really helped. it's also the first swagdoons fic i've ever posted, so there's that too :) also, one of the comments of someone going back to read it a few months later also came while i was in a rough patch, so that really helped <3

four of a kind by Anonymous

Ash, Branzy, Clown, and Red close up the casino for the week.

A/N: first of, CASINOQUARTETCASINOQUARTETCASINOQUARTET- and fun fact, this is one of the first fics written after casino quartet first became a Concept (which. considering i first came up w/ the concept in the swagdoons server is. Yeah <- ill) so that's rlly fun to see how big casino quartet has become considering i see it in random places now LOL

l'appel du vide by Anonymous

If there’s anyone that knows Death, it’s him. or: sven escapes death, and still feels the void linger around him. and he has some thoughts about it.

A/N: i loveeeee minecraft death mechanics holy moly....anyways yeah this fic was so fun to write and the concepts are *chefs kiss*. it's also the first fic in the kenadian fandom tag so there's that too!

5 years, eleven months, and seventeen days by Anonymous

It's been 5 years, 11 months, and 17 days since they went missing. or: laurance is still investigating his friends' disappearances. even after all of this time. (he can't seem to move on, can he?)

A/N: this fic was a gift for my bestest friend ever :3 i'm going to be real it's been like, 6+ years since i watched mystreet but my friend reminded me of how fucked it was and i felt really included to write this. i loveeee fucked up implications in fiction!!!

jenga tower by Anonymous

"Dude-" Ash says through a wheezed breath, "Do you think this a little much?" Clown hums, "Mmm, no. I think you're just fineee." "Exactly," Red chimes in, definitely not helping the 'hey wouldn't it be funny if we all laid on Ash?' cause. or: casino quartet turn into a human jenga tower. for roses and smoke week, free day

A/N: once again. casino quartet brainworms strike again. i think this is the only fic i finished in time for the first roses and smoke week LOL. it's very fluffy and i still think it holds up. yeah they'd be Like That

what's the point of living if you can't die with someone else, huh? by Anonymous

"you mentioned about me going back home, right?" ash nods, eyebrow raised with suspicion. "well," red starts, "i think i said this last season: 'what's the point of living if you can't die with someone else?'" red gets up from the floor, "and you haven't used your god powers much," he says as he offers ash a hand to get off the floor. "dude." ash can exactly see what red's asking. or: alternatively titled: who knew killing your bestie with god powers could be so affectionate?

A/N: i love love love sappy swagdoons so much. this fic was so fun to write all of their memories and stuff. i love them so much i want to pinch both of their cheeks so bad!!! <333

a late night conversation about a stolen horse (and a few other things) by Anonymous

Red's going out for a supply run, and runs into Ash. They have a conversation about a stolen horse (and a few other things).

A/N: once again, sappy swagdoons. i love them so much. i'm going to be real a lot of this was inspired by this one survival guide book that i've had for literal years. i've kept it with me for fic purposes but when i was little i did read through it out of boredom so i do have a little bit of knowledge, which inspired this fic LOL

the thing about ash: by Anonymous

A glitch (as defined by Wikipedia) is a short-lived fault in a system, such as a transient fault that corrects itself, making it difficult to troubleshoot. In an article by Alex Pieschel, Pieschel writes that a "'glitch' suggests something more mysterious and unknowable inflicted by surprise inputs or stuff outside the realm of code." (or: ash, as told in the very nature of himself and what makes him, him.

A/N: okay i'm going to be real this is one of those fics that i'm 90% sure i was struck down by god to have a vision for this fic. i'm really proud with how deep i made the metaphor and it's one of the fics i'm most proud of :) it's awesome

mors mihi lucrum by Anonymous

"death to me is reward" is it really? (or: zolister has some thoughts about the trophy room)

A/N: this fic was so so fun to write. if you haven't noticed already, death in minecraft is one of my favorite things to explore and that showtime smp video activated a nueron in my brain when i watched it. i love death in mc so so much <3

Ashswag's 3-step, very simple plan, to survive the Genesis SMP by Anonymous

Exactly what it says on the tin.

A/N: this is another one of my "hcs into a fic" fics, and it's really fun! i'm going to be real, i still don't know much about ultrakill but i fuck with the aesthetic hard. that clair de lune level is so pretty....

in another universe: by Anonymous

things would have ended differently. (an experimental webweave done on ao3)

A/N: this fic was SOOOOO fun to do. i've always wished for webweaving to be more of a thing outside of tumblr, so this is an experiment into other options! it's so awesome i love experimenting with fanfiction...

the best of the best, you'll die like the rest by Anonymous

Agent Rek Rap II, an ex-agent trying to enjoy his life in early retirement. Or well, he was trying too. He gets invited to a concert by a familiar name. (He already knows how this is going to end.)

A/N: this fic turned out so well. i had a general vibe and i RAN with it. it was so fun to write, and hopefully, it's a fun read if you also like spy stuff!!!

homemade comforts by Anonymous

If Red was being honest, he reveled in moments like this. Moments when Ash and he were far away from all of the violence, all of the responsibilities, and away from any prying eyes around them. Just Ash and Red, cooking together in their shitty little kitchenette that only fits two people.

A/N: this fic was so so fun to write. i'm going to be real, it was supposed to be part of another fic where it showed swagdoons across servers but i decided to make it a standalone. i love cooking together with people so much, and hopefully this fic conveys that :)

it’s no big deal (that i love you) by Anonymous

Sometimes Ash understands people when they call him and Red a couple. They are partners, in a sense, but not in that way. After all, when you’ve spent so long as enemies, survivalists, comrades, even, you notice a lot about the other person. From tracking down Red’s movements to stealing that stupid bell from Capital City, to pressing down on wounds and praying it didn’t get infected, they’ve been through everything. Been through the happy, sad, and angry tears together, and everything else in-between. But of course, everything they did had to be a business deal—a private agreement between just both of them. or: ashswag has some thoughts about red while they fall asleep together (ft. swagdoons qpr)

A/N: once again. sappy swagdoons. because i am predictable. this fic is so fluffy, and i'm so proud with how deep the metaphor is and how soft and fluffy everything is. qpr swagdoons ftw!!!

fallin' in love by Anonymous

Ash and Red go to a pumpkin patch on their day off.

A/N: more fluff. i love them so much. i love fall vibes and pumpkin patches so this fic was me putting all of the fall vibes i could into this fic. so glad it's going to get cooler where i live now LOL

...and, scene by Anonymous

kenadian, the train escape, and the fourth wall. ...and all of the horrific implications that come alongside it.

A/N: this was written as a spirtual successor to my prev. fic about sven. it was so fun, and fun fact, it's the first fic in the kenadian character tag! yippee!!!

world is mine! by Anonymous

In a sleep-deprived move, Minecraft player Ashswag decided that making a Hatsune Miku cosplay would compliment his entire God shtick perfectly. or: ash becomes swagsune ashu

A/N: this fic was mostly written for shits and giggles, but although i haven't have much time for it, cosplay is something that's so dear to me <3 i love the craftsmanship that does into it!!! and the community is so kind <3

go to the end with me, my lover by Anonymous

“Hey Ash? I…want you to come here and take a look.” Red says warily. Ash quietly follows Red ahead. He climbs over the rubble Red is looking out on and— Oh. It was their wedding venue.

A/N: fun fact: i first heard of this song in class when someone showed me the mv after school and um. well let's say i shed a few tears. god if you haven't watched the love wins all mv, please do. it's so well done <3 also in general SWAGDOONS WEDDING LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO (ignore the angst)

it takes two to tango, but somebody has to lead by Anonymous

The tango is a dance that requires someone to lead, and a partner willing to follow them. (or, swagdoons through the ages)

A/N: this was so fun. i love writing in different formats!!! also it being experimental is AWESOME i love playing around w/ language :3 also i love acherswan so so much so that was also a bonus!!!

developments by Anonymous

A group photo of the Hemlock family and staff. Absolutely nothing goes wrong.

A/N: i love photography so much, esp as someone with terrible memory. i've been having fun exploring it in fics recently so yeah!!! also the first fic in the whitepine tag #awesome

memento by Anonymous

“You have a pretty face,” Red says out loud without thinking. Ash stops in his tracks, whipping his head back to stare back at Red. “I—What?” “Ah. Um. You look nice when you’re talking,” Red clarifies, “Wait.” Red steps closer and grabs Ash’s jaw. “The fuck—” or: Red is a photography student and takes a picture of Ash.

A/N: listen me and my friend dusty were talking and my brain came up with the most gay scene ever and i HAD to write it. once again, i've only used dslr's in my life, but hopefully the magic of photographing someone was captured in this fic. old people yaoi.../silly

and OH BOY that was a lot of fics. these are the fics i'm really proud of, so i hope y'all enjoy (and please say nice things to me if you have enjoyed them). thank you for making it through this LONG post!!!

[naamahdarling]

.

Stuff under cut.

Anyway, I'm very tired. The Jeebers take work, still. They are so mannerless, just a vast untrammeled wilderness of horrible behavior, and it makes me HAPPY somehow. Their liveliness I guess. Their utter self-possession and minimal reliance on us, their understanding of themselves as cats and not human companions, the solid unit they form together, perfect balance between brave and careful, both stubborn, both bold, never having had to survive for a moment on their own, but so deeply and quintessentially feline in their instincts that I have no doubt that if they had been forced to, they would have easily been able to do so.

I have to alter a great deal of that to make them good companions, but it'll be worth it. Right now they're tiny chaotic roommates who come up to me at random intervals, lick my face for a few moments, and go dashing off to find some other mischief to be in. I sit there on the couch sometimes and watch them race around, skidding around corners, Jasper jumping out at Juniper and starting games, Juniper laying her ears flat and lashing her tail and squinting her eyes, and then going right for his fucking throat, going for the full body tackle, even though she's so much smaller than he is. Getting thrown by him over and over, and not caring, just washing his ears and then starting all over again.

It's good that they're here. It isn't the dynamic or the situation I would prefer, I know I keep saying that, but it's very true. But I still don't regret a single thing. They are unruly and don't do very many of the things that we like our pets to do, but all of that is mostly charming, and the parts that are not will pass.

I've been feeling the urge to do creative things again. I'm tidying up the studio as best I can around the babies, and I'll be able to work again soon. I have one project I'm particularly excited about, and I desperately want to post about it but I can't, because it's a surprise for my boyfriend for Christmas. I've never done anything quite like it, and I'm excited. I also have all of the memorial things for the boys that I need to make. A big box to hold all of their mementos, that sort of thing. And I have a project for a relative that is long overdue. AND there is a really fun thing for myself that will fit in nicely around the edges.

Hopefully I will have the energy and the spoons to get it all done. A lot of the work is going to tug on the heartstrings. All of it, actually, with the exception of the thing I'm going to do for myself. Which means I really should try to do it alongside everything else so I can give myself a break.

[georgiapeach30513]

RE: Red One.

It’s funny how critics and people online continue to want to keep this film down, but I think it’s continuing to exceed expectations which is a good sign.

I had a feeling for a long while it was going to surprise people, given how many were complaining nonstop about Chris’s involvement.

Also, the discourse about his career choices… 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

It’s one thing if he were to sit there and complain to the media about not being able to find more serious roles or prestige movies to do.

But to my knowledge he’s never done that? I can only think of him saying years ago that his good films he feels nobody watches (true, or at least not ENOUGH people watch) but even then it wasn’t so much a complaint as a response to a question.

It seems like he is having fun and just picking what he wants to do. I’ve never heard him say “I only did this because I couldn’t get that.” He’s thrown out there he did Red One because he’s always wanted a Christmas film and there was a part for someone like him in it. Makes sense to me. And he just did three smaller scale lower profile projects with directors that are still establishing themselves. Without his and Anya’s involvement, don’t know that sacrifice would have been able to get made. I wish critics who aren’t up to date with his career move at least stop talking and wait for developments over a “hot take” for hits.

I saw a ridiculous tweet once again undermining Red One and his choices. Here’s the thing…red one was an orignal IP. It was a new story that wasn’t from an existing franchise, show, book, or sequel. Lots of people worked on that film and Amazon giving it a theatrical release also helps those who worked on the film that aren’t DJ or the rest of the cast. People who are seeing it in theaters are helping to create box office return and if films like this did well and were received well, maybe there would be more studios willing to take a chance on an original take over an existing IP.

Just because it’s a popcorn movie with silliness does not mean it’s trash and only films like Oppenheimer can be considered art.

I really despise that take and how some cinephiles look down on these films yet solely up lift Oscar bait films.

It bothers me immensely as a creative myself because in my opinion, movies are entertainment and they’re supposed to entertain you. If you and others have fun with the content and enjoy, have a good laugh, a smile, a cry, then I think the creators have done their job. Not all films need to be awards worthy, and art is subjective.

Ahh, the discourse on Chris' career is a tale as old as time at this moment. According to some he will never be good enough or rise to his potential. According to some he is a washed up has been, and yet they can't seem to quit him. I think that makes him a bit more powerful than they want him to be. But alas, we're all free to spend our time how we see fit.

It's funny because I don't think some people realize the roles that he was considered for, the roles he turned down, the roles that he was wanted for. Back when Running Man was in talks, he was top of the list as the lead, and we see that he wanted Sacrifice instead. I think that was a better choice, because quite frankly I'm getting fatigued at all the remakes, but some people want to make their career out of remakes. To each their own.

Unfortunately Chris outside of the MCU has never been quite as a box office draw. A lot of his movies, well most, are on a smaller scale. I think people are looking at his last three movies; Ghosted, Pain Hustlers, and Red One, and immediately jumping on a hate bandwagon. Let's break this down, Ghosted was a small movie, and judging by the synopsis I think we got what we were promised. I think that Dex, Chris, and Ana all were making different movies.

Pain Hustlers will mostly be forgotten. It was part of the opiate epidemic movies that became oversaturated. It didn't have any promotion, and compared to the other projects in the opiate crisis genre, it wasn't that great. I still will die on the hill that his performance was solid, and the best in the movie. Emily was oddly terrible.

Red One I think surprised a lot of people. Nobody expected it to be as fun or as good as it ended up being. Due to the strike, Chris didn't get to really film last year, minus the Deadpool movie. Had R1 not be released a year late, he would have only had Deadpool for this year. Starting next year we're going to have another surge of his projects, and they all seem different, so maybe people should just be patient.

The average movie goer wants to be entertained. That's why popcorn flicks make more money than the award movies. now sometimes you can have both. But anyways.

[dao-the-starlight]

A Gift for Clxudy Xuan

SURPRISE!!! It's my secret santa gift for the lovely @clxudyxuan for the @olnfsecretsanta2024 event!

A/N to my giftee Xuan: MERRY CHRISTMAS XUAN!!!! It’s me, your secret Santa!!! Before I say anything let me just say I'M SO SORRY for getting this in a day late!! In my time zone, it’s only just the 15th today, so for me the gift exchange happened a day early, and once I realized I had to scramble to my doc and make any changes and tweaks I wanted to. I hope you enjoy this gift, it was incredibly fun to make and I'm so glad I got to make this. I was in a constant fist-fight with writer’s block the entire time I made this so I’m incredibly sorry if there are some errors here and there in the writing, I tried my absolute best to give you the best gift for the holidays! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Xuan!! 🎄🎄🎄

Word Count: Roughly 2.9k Words

Credit to @/saradika-graphics for the headers

“In ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, Shakespeare explores themes of the relationships between people and the many hardships that can come with it. Choose three pieces of evidence from the play that support these themes and write, in your own words, an Analytical Essay to show your understanding of the play.”

The monotonous ticking of an ornate clock on a desk served as the only noise in Elise’s bedroom as she stared daggers at the assignment laid in front of her. Winter break had finally arrived at Riverview Peak High School, though the “break” part of the event seemed to be a total lie as the teachers had decided it was a truly wonderful idea to give their students a pile of assignments to complete by the end of the break. “It’s to prepare for your exams!!”, they’d all say. Sure. Fine. That made sense, but why call it a Winter Break then??

If you asked any fellow classmate, they’d tell you that this was the teacher’s dumb way to keep annoying their students. Though to Elise, this was the worst fate that could’ve fallen upon her. She was very eager for winter break, delighted for it even, finally after months of assignments and quizzes and the constant non-stop threat of her grades lowering, Elise was ecstatic at the fact that she could have finally gotten a long break for herself. She had even already planned how she wanted to spend her break, quality time with Mom, practice her piano and singing (and hopefully master that song she hoped to perform for Christmas), and have some winter adventures with her friends, without any bickering this time. But she’s already one week into the break and all she’s done is work work work. Chipping away at the assignments pushed onto her already heavy load.

“Maybe I’m cursed.” Elise would think, “I was too excited for the break, but my grades slipped after I bombed that last math test, so now I’m cursed with more work until I can fix it. I should’ve known that would’ve come back to bite me!”

It certainly didn’t help that Elise had already fallen behind on some of her classes, so now the assignments she had to finish before January felt neverending. Once she managed to finish one and shove it back into her “Finished Assignments” folder, three more assignments would appear to bug her. The past week had mostly been focused on Elise’s math work, booklets, worksheets, mini quizzes, and the occasional “artistic” project to “shake things up” as her teacher would put it. Eventually, it had all become too much, if Elise had to look at one more nonsensical math equation, she thinks she would’ve gone mad. So, even if there was still more to do, Elise switched over to her English assignments, which brings her to now, staring so harshly at her paper that she could have burned a hole straight through it.

It was easy really, just write an essay on a play the class had been studying for weeks, simple enough. Elise had written a bunch of essays during this semester and always excelled as she ought to. This should be a walk in the park! But… Whenever she looked at her assignment and tried to plan out what she could write… nothing came up. She blanked on everything. It was like she got hit with amnesia overnight, every time she tried to recall the events of the play all she got were vague blurry afterimages of things she couldn’t put into words.

Elise wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and cry and tear up this paper into scraps, but she couldn’t get the energy to even try. She had to get everything finished now. She couldn't bear to think about what might happen to her grades if she didn’t finish everything in time. But right now, the only thing she could muster the energy for was to pitifully let her head fall onto her desk, not even acknowledging the pain that shot through her forehead as her head hit the wood.

“Maybe if I stay right here like this, everything will be fine…” she thought to herself.

…

……

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK’

“Elise? Are you awake yet?” The muffled voice of Elise’s mom called from just outside her room door, giving the girl possibly the biggest shock of her life.

Elise shouted… something. Honestly, with her tired mind still catching up to her body, she couldn’t tell if she had shouted a quick “Yes I’m awake!!” or “One second!!”, or maybe even something else entirely. Regardless of whatever words tumbled out of her mouth, Elise sprang up from her desk and immediately grabbed all of her assignments and schoolbooks to unceremoniously shove into whatever free drawers and other hide-y holes she could find.

Just as she shoved her last English assignment into her bag (crumpling it in the process, ugh.) her bedroom door creaked open and her mother peeked her head in, seeing Elise hunched over her backpack quietly grumbling about something.

“Elise…?” she called.

At the sound of her mother’s sudden voice behind her, Elise scrambled to get up to her feet and address her mom. Once she was standing she immediately began to fiddle with her appearance by pure instinct, smoothing out her hair and nightgown hastily and getting rid of any unsightly imperfections she physically saw on herself.

“Ugh I must be a mess right now…” she whined in her mind.

When she finally deemed herself presentable, she looked up to face her mother and oh she was not that close when Elise first heard her. She must have fully walked into the room at some point. Figuring that her mom was simply here to make a quick check-in on her daughter, Elise quickly first spoke to show that she was definitely fine.

“Good morning Mom! I was just looking over some old schoolwork! I wasn’t expecting you to come into my room so you scared me... Is breakfast ready?”

Perfectly cheery, see? She doesn’t sound tired at all! Definitely a perfect happy daughter for a perfect happy mother.

Elise’s mother, Opal, paused for a moment, her gaze flicking from her daughter’s slightly too-wide smile to the desk behind her with pencils and erasers and other stationary utensils strewn about. Without missing a beat, she looked back at her daughter and reached out to fondly brush her hand over her golden hair, slightly ruffling it up in the process. Elise tried her best not to bristle at the action.

Opal hummed, “Well, yes breakfast is ready. Buuut~ I also wanted to ask you about helping your mom with her lovely Christmas decorations for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow…?”, Elise thought, “What’s happening tomorrow- Oh my goodness I forgot.”

Tomorrow was December twenty-fourth meaning it was Christmas Eve, but not only was it Christmas Eve tomorrow, it was also the “Second Family Christmas Party!”, a party that Elise’s mother had thought up back when she and her daughter had first moved to Golden Grove. After seeing Elise make a new crew of friends, her mother thought it would be amazing to try and brighten up her first Christmas in a new town by inviting all of Elise’s friends and their families over for a Christmas celebration. She and her daughter spent days buying all of the most fancy Christmas decorations they could find, and spent the twenty-third putting them all around the house to turn into a winter wonderland, and come the day of the party everyone loved it! Since then the party has become a tradition for the Second Family, and it just so happens that the party was tomorrow. Elise hadn’t even noticed due to how much she occupied herself with schoolwork and nothing else.

“Oh!! Right. Tomorrow. I… almost forgot! I’d love to decorate with you!” Elise said with a timid strain to her voice.

Elise still had work, lots of work, she really couldn’t neglect it. But she also knows how much her mom loves setting up this party with her, “It’s my favourite part of Christmas!” she’d say, before quickly tacking on some spiel about how truly any time spent with her daughter was her favourite part of Christmas, Elise couldn’t let her mom down and break her heart like that.

Opal smiled, and patted her hair once again, “Thank you, dear. You can come on down when you’re ready, breakfast will be there on the table. I made your favourite”

She gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, for good measure Elise supposed, before stepping out of the bedroom and heading back downstairs.

Once her mother left, it felt like Elise had been dunked over the head with a bucket of ice-cold water. Pushing out a harsh sigh she crouched down and held her hands tight in her hair, not even caring at how unruly her locks became after fussing over it looking “presentable” mere moments before. In her lonesome, she was frantically running scenario after scenario through her head, desperately trying to figure out how she could fit in Christmas celebrations with her work. But in every single scenario, something had to be postponed, pushed back further into winter break meaning Elise had less time to finish everything. How was anything going to get done??

Eventually, after… Well, who knows how long, Elise’s body seemed to make a choice for her as her stomach growled loudly and the telltale pang of hunger racked through her body.

“Time for breakfast…” She mused, slowly standing back up and exciting her room to finally face the day.

~~~~

“Oh! I almost forgot about these! Elise? I have to touch up the lights outside before it gets too dark. Could you grab the rest of these crafts here and string them up around the living room for me?” Opal called.

“Will do Mom!” Elise hopped from the kitchen to the living room, passing her mom who was heading out to the front door on the way.

After Elise had headed down for breakfast (which she had to warm up cause she had in fact taken that long, sorry Mom), she saw her mother bringing out box after box of Christmas decorations and placing them out around the living room. Once Opal heard Elise coming down into the kitchen, she looked up and lit up with glee at the sight of her daughter, greeting her warmly again before continuing what she was doing. Seeing just how excited her mother got at something as “silly” as Christmas decorating, Elise couldn’t help but feel a warm fond feeling of nostalgia fill her chest. Maybe…. school could wait just a little longer… For her mom.

So now, here Elise was, shifting through one of the last boxes of the day. This particular box was filled with a plethora of fun Christmas-themed crafts that Elise and her friends had made during past parties before… things changed. But regardless of the present, these mementos of the past held a lot of memories that couldn’t be forgotten, so it was a pleasure to put them up around the house, lord knows the older Lin’s, Baumann’s, and Murray’s always appreciated it if the kids didn’t.

After around thirty minutes passed, Elise managed to go through everything in the crafts box except for one final thing. Laid there at the very bottom of the box was the very first craft Elise had ever made, a quaint paper and felt card featuring Elise and her closest friends, Qiu and Tamarack, as the main feature on the cover with the words "MERRY CHRISTMAS GOLDEN GROVE" drawn on over the felt with presumably some colourful sharpie pens. Elise reached into the box and pulled the card out, treating it as if it were made of the finest and most fragile glass in the whole world. She carefully ran her fingers over the edge of the felt that made up her felt self’s hair, unable to hold back the emotional grin that overtook her features. Moving over to her best friend's felt figures, she couldn’t help but giggle at the cute crudeness of it all.

The whole card had actually been Elise’s mom’s idea during the very first Christmas party she had. The kids (minus Ren, who at the time already had plans with the rest of the Murrays for Christmas Eve and therefore couldn’t attend) had gotten quite restless while waiting for their party gift exchange, and in their efforts to find something to do, they found a box of craft supplies that were stored in the hallway closet. Opal saw and gave the kids the idea of making a big gift card for themselves to celebrate their first Christmas together. And just like that the kids created a brand new Christmas tradition.

Funny. Elise never realized how many “traditions” she had made here in Golden Grove with her best friends and family surrounding Christmas. She wondered if that would keep going into adulthood. She really hoped it would…

Suddenly, she heard the sound of the front door opening and her now snow-covered mom shuffling into the house. She stood up and was met with the sight of her mother trying her best to shake off all the snow on her while also doing everything she could to not get snow everywhere inside the foyer, all while quietly muttering something about the cold and underestimating Golden Grove’s winter. Unable to hold back, Elise laughed before skipping over to her mom and helping her gather her winter gear and putting it away, earning a fond “Thank you Elise” from her mother during the shuffle.

Once everything was put away and Opal was officially declared “snow-free”, the mother-daughter duo walked out of the foyer and gazed upon the now beautifully decorated house, it truly looked like the house had transformed into a bite-sized version of a fantasy Christmas town.

Opal sighed, love and nostalgia swelling in her chest. 

“Oh, it gets more beautiful every year…” 

“Thank you, my dear. I couldn’t have done this without your teamwork.” she quickly turned to Elise and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Elise chuckled, murmuring a small “You’re welcome” as she moved to hug her mother. The embrace lasted for a few long seconds, both Opal and Elise silently taking in the moment. After the two finally deemed the hug satisfactory, Opal pulled back first with a smile on her face as she looked down at Elise.

“How about, to celebrate our efforts, we have a fun movie night? There’s some popcorn over in the pantry, I can cook some up and we can stay up as late as we want watching Christmas movies!” she suggested.

Elise was just about to eagerly accept her mother’s offer when suddenly she was yanked back to reality by her brain harshly reminding her of the schoolwork waiting back in her room, and her mother’s voice faded far into the background. She had almost forgotten entirely, how could she? There was still so much to be done and she practically wasted the whole day decorating. How was she going to get everything done? Well, there was the essay she tried to write this morning, but there were also some of the other math workbooks she left behind as well… Maybe if she started the essay now, she could-

“It’ll be a nice break for the both of us!” Opal suddenly exclaimed and placed her hands on Elise’s shoulders.

“A moment for us to wind down before all the business of Christmas. We both deserve it,” she added.

Elise only stared at her mother for a moment, unsure of what to say. She didn’t want to dismiss her mom, but she also absolutely couldn’t afford to push back her work any further, her grades could slip again. Though it seemed that Opal would make the final decision before Elise could.

Opal gently grabbed Elise’s hand and walked her towards the living room couch before letting her go to rummage through a nearby coffee table to find her collection of DVDs, musing on about how they could start their movie night with Elise’s favourite Christmas movie.

Elise’s mind failed to catch up with her body, she simply allowed her mom to pull her around and once she was in front of the couch all she did was sit down and wait for her mom.

“Well, I’m already here… I guess it’s too late to leave now.” Elise thought as she adjusted to sit more properly, exuding what she believed to be a more lady-like demeanour.

After rummaging around the DVD collection, Opal finally found just the movie she was looking for, “Ah! There you are. Elise, could you turn on the TV for me while I set up the DVD player?”

Elise muttered a quick “Sure” and reached for the remote, promptly pointing it at the TV and turning it on, just as her mother placed the DVD player up and running and placed the disk inside.

Opal walked back over to the couch and sat down right next to Elise, grabbing a nearby blanket and draping it over herself and her daughter, meanwhile, Elise fiddled around with the remote some more to get the TV to the right cable.

After all the setup, the movie could begin. Elise and Opal moved to get as comfy as possible under the blanket, Elise leaned against her mother and Opal wrapped her arm securely around her daughter. The two became snug as a bug just at the right time when the movie was beginning and classic Christmas music rang through the TV speakers.

“Merry Christmas, my dear,” Opal whispered.

“Mm… Merry Christmas Mom…” Elise couldn’t help but let out a very long, but content, sigh.

It was so nice to get a break.

……

“Oh dear- I forgot our popcorn!!”

Fin

Merry Christmas 🎅

[chicgeekgirl89]

Festive Friends- Read on AO3

Rating: T

Words: 8600

This one is for @strandnreyes as part of the @tarlos-santa 2023 exchange! I chose the prompt: AU - Carlos and TK unknowingly have each other for the office secret santa exchange. Up to you if they’re pining idiots, “enemies”, secretly dating, or anything else! Hope you enjoy and have the most festive of holidays!

“Good morning Mr. Reyes.”

Carlos looks up to find the office intern, Mateo, standing cheerily next to his desk, a stack of envelopes in his hand. “Good morning Mateo. And again, you can call me Carlos. Mr. Reyes really isn’t necessary.”

“Sorry Mr. Reyes, I’m just not really used to being like, a real adult yet I guess,” Mateo says sheepishly. 

Carlos keeps a chuckle to himself and doesn’t admonish the kid again. “I understand. Whatever you feel comfortable with is fine.”

“Cool. Thanks Mr. Reyes. I brought your mail over for you.”

“Thank you,” Carlos says, accepting the stack from him.

“Can I get you anything? A coffee? Oh! I think Mr. Strand has some new kind of energizing smoothie or something in the break room. Although, it looked kinda gross to me,” Mateo says.

The thought of that smoothie sends a shiver down Carlos’ spine. He hasn’t known Owen Strand for very long, but his health nut tendencies have quickly become too much for Carlos’ taste. “No, that’s okay. I don’t need anything right now. Besides, your job here is to learn about the business, not fetch everyone’s coffee.”

“Right. Yes. Learning. I love learning all the things. Hey, are you coming to the office tree lighting on Friday afternoon? I heard they’re gonna have those little pigs in a blanket.”

Carlos’ eyes dart back to his screen and the half finished email staring at him. “Um, yeah. I’ll be there for a little bit.”

“Awesome!” Mateo seems genuinely thrilled and Carlos once again has to bite back an amused smile. The kid is ninety nine parts enthusiasm and one part overly helpful. “Well I’ll let you get back to it. Lots of…what exactly does HR do?”

“Emails,” Carlos says. “Lots of emails.”

“Right. Sounds fun. Good luck with that!”

Mateo sends him a parting wave and then disappears around the side of his cubicle. 

Things have been absolutely crazy at PD and Sons since they merged with 126 Designs a few months ago. Owen Strand had been brought in to manage the merger and insisted on hiring a significant number of new staff. Onboarding the new hires like Mateo has been a ton of work, especially since Owen insisted on being extremely involved in the entire process. Carlos has been in non-stop meetings for weeks and today is the first day he hasn’t felt completely overwhelmed in forever.

He flips through the stack of mail, tossing a few random flyers in the recycling, and setting aside the important envelopes to open later. He wrinkles his forehead when he finds a folded up piece of red paper at the bottom of the stack. When he opens it his eyes immediately widen in horror.

What. The. Hell?

“Lexi.” He stands up and looks down into the cubicle next to him where his work wife is busy with some kind of design project. “Why did I just get a paper telling me who my Secret Santa is this year?”

“I signed you up because I knew you wouldn’t do it otherwise. It’s the season of giving and part of that means giving up your Grinchy ways and pretending like you’re interested in getting to know all the new people in the office,” Lexi says without looking up at him.

His jaw drops. “Okay, first of all, I’m not uninterested in getting to know them. I just haven’t had time to get to know them. And secondly, I hate Secret Santa. Nobody ever really knows what to get you, so you end up with all this random crap and candy that you don’t want and it all sits in a drawer for three or four years until finally you throw it out.”

She finally stops and turns to look at him. “Wow. Okay Uncle Scrooge. First of all,” she echoes him, “it’s not Secret Santa, it’s Festive Friends. Not everybody celebrates Christmas. Get your terminology right. And secondly, it’s not about getting good gifts, it’s about spreading joy for the holiday season. So take the Christmas tree out of your ass and start fa la la-ing with the rest of us.”

“Lexi,” he grinds out her name between his teeth and quickly glances around to make sure no one is in earshot. “I got T.K.”

Lexi is the only one in the office who knows what an incredible disaster meeting T.K. Strand has been for his life. A week after the PD Austin and 126 Designs merger the entire office had gone out for drinks. One thing led to another, which led to another, and ultimately ended up with T.K. very naked in Carlos’ bed. 

They’d been incredibly hot and incredibly heavy for a couple weeks after that, sneaking around together, making out in the supply closet, booty calling each other in the dead of night, and Carlos had been so ridiculously happy. T.K. Strand had turned him into a horny freaking teenager.

And then he’d made the mistake of surprising T.K. with dinner. He’d thought it would be romantic. That it might move them from booty call status into something a little bit more permanent. 

But T.K. had freaked out, stormed out, and shut Carlos out of his life. Thank god his cubicle is all the way around the corner on the other side of the building. They barely have to see each other except for the occasional awkward brush in the break room or men’s room.

Carlos’ heart has been more broken than he’d like to let on, not to mention his ego is bruised too. The whole thing has made getting to know the other people from 126 Designs like Marjan, Paul, Nancy, and Judd very awkward.. They’re T.K.’s friends. And he doesn’t want to piss T.K. off anymore than he already has. 

Of course he has to interact with T.K.’s father, Owen Strand, he is the manager after all, but other than that he’s kept everyone else at an extremely polite and professional distance.

So finding T.K.’s name in his hands is like a punch in the gut.

“Good,” Lexi says, surprising him. “You’ve been pining for him for weeks anyway. Might as well do something about it.”

“Lexi, this guy hates my guts,” Carlos says. “He doesn’t want presents from me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. You’re Carlos Reyes. No one hates you.”

“Please switch with me.”

“No.”

“Lexi!”

“No! I got Paul. I already have ideas. I’m not switching. It’s only three gifts, you’ll be fine.”

“Three?! I thought Secret Santa was only one gift!”

“God, do you even read your email? It’s three gifts in the week leading up to the holiday break. This will be good for you. Now go away. I’m working.”

Carlos sinks back down into his chair, misery settling in his stomach. This is going to be absolute torture.

He takes another look at T.K.’s scrawl. His writing looks hurried in a way that suggests he’s so excited that he can’t be bothered to slow down and shape his letters more carefully. It has that same kind of frenetic, joyful energy that drew Carlos to him in the first place. Now the only energy he exudes toward Carlos is coldness.

Carlos catches himself tracing his fingers over the letters of T.K.’s name and balls them into a fist before forcing himself to read T.K.’s answers to the Festive Friends questionnaire. T.K. has written down that he likes sour candy, Harry Styles, boba, and interesting tea flavors. He doesn’t like black licorice, the Mets, or anything with alcohol. 

Carlos frowns at that. He doesn’t remember T.K. mentioning anything about alcohol during their weeks together. But then again, they didn’t exactly spend much time talking. Their mouths had been occupied with other things.

It feels unfair to have this scrap of T.K., to get this little glimpse into his life. These are things he doesn’t want Carlos to know. He made that clear when he stormed out the door of Carlos’ condo and left nothing behind except Carlos’ fractured heart. 

He takes a breath and squares his shoulders. It’s just a stupid office tradition. They’re colleagues. They’re going to have to become cordial at some point. Maybe this is how he can start to smooth things over. Besides, it’s not like he has to talk to the guy. That’s literally the point. To keep it secret.

This is going to be fine.

It is not fine. It’s not fine because Carlos is the type of person that agonizes over gifts. And in this case, there’s even more pressure because the gifts have to be perfectly impersonal so they don’t say, “Your dick was life changing and I don’t think I’m ever going to recover because now you hate me and I don’t really know why.” He’d much rather they say, “I’m fine and I don’t ever think about you and that thing you did with your tongue that one time.”

Ugh.

He arrives Monday morning the week before Christmas with a gift bag in hand, a Yankees baseball cap tucked inside. It’s a lame gift. Perfectly impersonal. And the rest of his gifts for the week aren’t much better. There’s a small part of him berating himself for not doing a better job. He could at least try. The guy broke up with him, he didn’t murder anyone.

But then he remembers how miserable he was in the days after T.K. had stormed out. Whatever. He didn’t sign up for this anyway. T.K. deserves his boring gifts.

The office is quiet as he makes his way to T.K.’s cubicle. Even just the sight of his desk makes Carlos’ heart ache a little. There’s a picture pinned to his bulletin board of T.K. with their other co-workers, Marjan, Paul, Judd, Mateo, Nancy, and Tommy all smiling and having fun, clearly out for a night on the town together. He’d known 126Designs was small and that was part of the reason for the acquisition; to bring on a tightly knit team to help their own, but seeing T.K. so happy with them all doesn’t really feel great.

He’s been so preoccupied by his own shopping that he completely forgot that he is also getting gifts until he steps into his cubicle and sees a bright green bag with little white Christmas trees all over it. He inspects it carefully, relieved to find there’s no glitter anywhere. 

He hates glitter.

There’s a little card attached to the handle and when he opens it it reads “Hope you have a Write Christmas- FF.” It takes him a second to figure out that FF must mean Festive Friend.

He carefully extracts the tissue paper and looks into the bag. It’s office supplies. Pens, post-its, a new stapler, blue paperclips, and a ball of rubber bands.

The pun on the card makes sense, even if it is as terribly lame as the gifts inside. At least it’s practical. He can always use new pens.

“Hey!” Lexi pokes her head in. “Ooh what’d you get?”

He shows her the bag and she nods in approval. “Your Festive Friend knows you like office supplies. Nice.”

“If you’re expecting a thank you for going behind my back on this, you’re going to be waiting a long time,” Carlos tells her as he sits down and opens up his laptop.

“Pretty sure people with that attitude get coal in their stocking,” she tells him, flipping him off before heading to her own cubicle.

It’s midway through the morning and Carlos is about to make yet another phone call when Owen Strand steps into the middle of the bullpen. “All right, attention everyone!” he calls.

The ambient sound of typing and low chatter ceases. “Thank you,” he says. “I just wanted to remind everyone that we have our first team building activity this afternoon. So if you have anything scheduled this is your last chance to rearrange. Mandatory fun is in store for all!”

Carlos bites back a groan. He is really not into mandatory office fun. Especially when it means he’ll be in close proximity to T.K. But he’s also not one to flaunt the rules, so he’s going to have to suck it up and deal.

No one has been allowed in the conference room all morning and when one o’clock rolls around Owen waits at the door with a massive grin on his face. The man is clearly thrilled with whatever he’s cooked up to torture them today.

When Carlos walks through the door he sees why. The tables have been covered in red plastic tablecloths and every two feet or so sits a pile of materials like graham crackers, marshmallows, frosting, and candy. It’s immediately obvious how they will be team building today.

“All right everyone!” Owen says when they’re all assembled. “As you can probably guess our team building activity for today has taken a turn for the festive. And I’ve taken the liberty of assigning you all a partner to work with. Each team will be assembling a pre-determined part of our gingerbread village. Paul, you’re with Marjan.”

They immediately turn and high five, clearly thrilled. 

“Nancy with Lexi, Judd with Tommy, Mateo with me,” Owen flashes him a smile and Mateo lets out a whoop.

Carlos’ stomach drops. That leaves him with—“T.K., you’ll be with Carlos.”

Fuck.

“Send one person to grab your pre-assigned building assignment! Remember this is not a competition. We’re all working together to build our village. Just like it takes a village to run a company.”

There’s a brief silence in which everyone internalizes what a dumb, schticky thing Owen has just said and then he claps his hands. “Okay, get to work!”

Everyone claims a spot around the tables. Carlos takes a paper slip from Owen and then looks around to find T.K., who is sitting across the room with his back to Carlos.

Carlos reluctantly walks over and sits in the empty seat next to him, all the while wondering if he can fake sick or claim a family emergency to get out of this. When he finally looks up at his partner he recoils in shock. T.K.’s lip is split and swollen, and there’s a dark ring of bruising underneath his right eye. “What happened to you?” Carlos asks, a surprised reflex releasing the words from his mouth before he can stop them.

The look T.K. sends him immediately reminds him that they’re not friends anymore. It’s full of vitriol and misery and…Carlos looks a little closer. Pain. There’s a rawness there that Carlos doesn’t remember seeing before.

“Sorry,” he says. “I just…that looks like it hurts.”

“Doesn’t feel great,” T.K. agrees, his voice stiff. “What are we supposed to be making?”

Carlos looks at the paper. “Police station.”

“Perfect. Way to read the room Dad. ACAB and all that,” T.K. grouses as he reaches for a pile of graham crackers and immediately begins squeezing icing all over.

“Um,” Carlos hems and T.K. stops.

“What?”

“Don’t you think maybe we should make a plan first?”

T.K. sighs and dramatically drops his piping bag onto the table. “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

“No I—I didn’t mean—” Carlos struggles to find the right words. “It’s fine. Let’s just try and get something standing first. That’s the hardest part anyway.”

They spend a couple minutes in silence gluing graham crackers together with icing and using some marshmallows to prop them up until they have something that roughly resembles walls and a roof. “You’re kind of good at this,” T.K. says. 

It’s the closest thing to niceties that they’ve shared in weeks.

“I have a lot of nieces and nephews. Not my first gingerbread house. Although it is my first police station,” Carlos admits.

“Cool,” T.K. says, then winces, his lip clearly hurting.

“You sure you don’t want to tell me what happened?” Carlos asks, feeling a little emboldened by T.K.’s compliment.

T.K. shoots him a glare. “You’re kind of annoying. You know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” Carlos says, trying to let the jab roll off his back. “But I know you’re new around here and you’ve obviously gotten into some trouble. Sometimes it helps to talk things out.”

He gets silence in return. God what the hell is wrong with this guy? He’s literally just trying to help. “Fine. You don’t have to tell me. But you should probably tell someone before whoever gave you that shiner comes back to give you a matching set.”

T.K. goes quiet, fiddling with the icing bag in his hand. When he speaks his voice is soft.“I went to a bar last night.”

“Ah. A little drunk and disorderly,” Carlos says, aware that he’s being snarky and not caring in the least. “So you have an idea of how the inside of this police station should look then.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” T.K. says quickly and Carlos remembers his Festive Friends answers. He looks down. “I just went through a really bad break up. Like nuclear bad. And then I relapsed.” He looks around and lowers his voice. “I relapsed with substances.”

Oh.

Carlos sets down the graham cracker in his hands, his full attention now on T.K. as memory slices through him. “I tried to pour us champagne during dinner. I’m such an idiot I’m sorry—“

“It’s fine, ” T.K. cuts him off quickly, like if he gets interrupted now he won’t ever be able to find the strength to share this again. He fiddles with the peppermint wrapper in his hands. “Ever since I’ve gotten here it’s just…it’s grey. And I just feel numb all the time. So I went out to a bar looking for trouble. And I found it. Big time. I guess I just…I wanted to feel something.”

He’s pulled in on himself, his body looking vulnerable and wounded. Carlos gets it now. The overenthusiastic sex. His no-strings attached mentality. The complete meltdown during dinner. This is a man who has been hurt, and he’s struggling to find a way to heal. Carlos had unknowingly probed at the wound in his soul and T.K. had lashed out. It makes sense, even if it wasn’t fair.

T.K. looks miserable and despite their history all Carlos wants to do is make him feel better. “Judging by that lip, I’d say mission accomplished,” he says, trying to lighten the moment.

“You’re really busting my balls right now?” T.K. asks, an unreadable expression on his face.

“No,” Carlos says. “I’m busting your jingle bells.” He tries and fails to hold back a smile at his incredibly stupid joke.

T.K. blinks at him. “That’s terrible,” he says, but he is also struggling to keep his face neutral.

“And yet you’re smiling,” Carlos says. He feels lighter, like there’s been an ominous blizzard hanging over him in the weeks since they stopped seeing each other. Now it feels like the snow has finally started to fall and all the ugliness of the bare world in winter is being covered in a fresh layer of soft white powder. There’s a sense of hope to it.

“I’m laughing at how stupid it is,” T.K. says.

“Well laugh while you work,” Carlos says, reaching for a bar of Hershey’s chocolate to put on the roof. “I know your dad said it wasn’t a competition, but Marjan and Paul seem to be working on a second story. So I’m not sure they know that.”

Together they finish the roof, adding on lots of dripping icing as snow and icicles. Carlos carefully starts to add windows while T.K. works on the landscaping. 

“Tommy I don’t know why you’re trying to make me do these little details when you know I’ve got fat fingers,” Judd is saying across the way as he and Tommy try to add a steeple to their church.

Marjan and Paul’s apartment building does indeed have two stories and they’ve somehow managed to chisel out actual windows in the graham crackers. Lexi and Nancy are creating a ski chalet that includes a chairlift, and Owen and Mateo’s fire station sports a fire pole made of pretzel rods.

“There,” T.K. says, plonking a creation down in front of where Carlos has crafted a front door out of Kit Kats.

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “What is that?”

“A snowman.”

Ah. Now Carlos sees it. There are two marshmallows stacked on top of each other and T.K. has shoved pretzel sticks in each side for arms. There is a lifesaver on each one and they’re connected by a thread of Twizzler. “What’s on its arms?” he asks.

“Handcuffs,” T.K. says.

“The snowman is getting arrested?”

“Or getting ready to do something kinky.”

“In front of a police station?”

“Some people get off on a little exhibitionism. Don’t judge Carlos,” T.K. says, a smirk on his face.

Damn it. They should have stayed mortal enemies. Now that they’re talking again, Carlos feels the urge to drag T.K. into the nearest cubicle and kiss the shit out of him. He didn’t need to go to a bar to find trouble. He could have shown up on Carlos’ doorstep and gotten into plenty.

Carlos’ attempt at a police cruiser has them both laughing; the oreo wheels keep falling off the rice krispie body (which T.K. snuck out and stole from the break room and has loudly been declared illegal by half the staff in the room) no matter how much icing he uses to try and stick them on.

“Stop eating our building materials,” Carlos admonishes a few minutes later when he goes for another red gum drop and finds they’re nearly gone.

“Why? They’re delicious. Tis the season for sugar,” T.K. says.

Carlos goes to give him a look and notices a dab of frosting on the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got some—“ He mimes brushing it away.

T.K. grabs a tissue and wipes, but misses completely. “No other side,” Carlos directs without success. “Here just, let me.”

He swipes the tissue from T.K.’s hand and dabs carefully, taking care not to pull on T.K.’s split lip. Their eyes meet and a heat passes between them, setting Carlos’ bones on fire. He clears his throat. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” T.K. says quietly.

They spend another half hour decorating before Owen makes them put all the buildings together into a little town while he snaps a picture for the company social media accounts. It’s actually pretty adorable once assembled and Carlos goes home that night strangely optimistic about what the rest of the week has in store.

Tuesday is business as usual and by the time Wednesday morning rolls around Carlos finds himself excitedly driving into work, his gift for T.K. in the passenger seat. He’s scrapped all his other gifts and spent the last two days looking for better items. Last night he visited a local tea shop and probably went a little overboard. They’d definitely upsold him on a few things and he’d let it happen because Monday’s gingerbread decorating had put a kernel of hope in his chest and…it can’t hurt to make sure T.K. likes his gifts, right?

He drops off T.K.’s gift bag and is only mildly disappointed when he walks into his own cubicle to find his desk is empty. It doesn’t matter; at least, that’s what he tells himself. Honestly, he’s not surprised. People are terrible at doing Secret Santa, it’s very likely that his person has forgotten him in the hustle and bustle of the holiday season.

He heads to his desk and gets right to work because they’re all heading out early to help with a toy drive at the local fire station; another of Owen’s brilliant ideas to encourage office camaraderie. It means he has a lot more to take care of than usual to try and make up for the lost time, and by mid-morning he’s in desperate need of a second coffee.

He’s about to get up and make one when his phone rings. It’s Ernie, their security guard from downstairs informing him that there’s a delivery waiting for him. Confused but intrigued Carlos heads for the elevator.

“Hey Ernie, all set for the holidays?” he asks when he reaches the desk on the ground floor.

“Just about. Got a couple more things to pick up today, but then I should be good to go,” Ernie tells him. He nods toward a bag and a coffee cup on the desk. “That’s for you.”

“Thanks.”

Carlos picks up the white paper sack and has to hold back a snort when he sees what’s written on the side. Hope the holidays don’t make you “cronuts”- FF. He peeks inside and inhales the scent of cronuts from Twiggy’s. Cronuts are a massive weakness of his, and a sip of the coffee tells him it’s made just to his specifications, a little bit of cream, no sugar. Whoever his Festive Friend is, they know him well. His suspicions are definitely leaning more and more toward Lexi.

He gets back in the elevator and when he steps off he nearly runs over T.K. “Whoa, sorry,” he says, holding up the coffee so it doesn’t spill all over T.K.’s chest.

“Lunch?” T.K. asks, nodding toward the bag.

“A snack from my ‘Festive Friend,’” he says. “Cronuts from the Twiggy’s.”

“That place is great. Enjoy,” T.K. says. 

“Do you want one?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself. God he’s needy. “I um, I got two and I can’t eat both. They’re really only good fresh, it’s not like I can save one—“

“Sure.” T.K. thankfully interrupts his ramble and the affirmative response sends a jolt of electricity through him.

They step into the break room and T.K. boils some hot water for tea before settling down across from Carlos at one of the high top tables, a kitschy little vase of fake flowers between them. 

Carlos pulls out the cronuts and puts each one on a paper plate. They’re decorated for the season as little Santa bellies, and hopefully they’re as delicious as he remembers. He slides one toward T.K. before picking up his own and taking a massive bite. He has to hold back a groan. They’re freaking amazing.

When he looks up he finds T.K. staring at him with an amused smirk on his face. “Sorry,” Carlos says, feeling his cheeks heat. “I um, these are my favorite.”

“So I can see,” T.K. says, the smirk widening a little. “The last time I saw that look we were both way more naked.”

Carlos feels his entire face go red at the reminder. He finishes chewing his bite, trying not to let memories of said naked time take over his brain. “So your dad,” he says. “He’s really into the holidays huh? We’ve never had so many festive office events.”

“Yeah my dad doesn’t really do anything by half measures,” T.K. says. “I think he might be overcompensating on the holiday cheer a little bit this year. The move down here was kind of a lot and I haven’t exactly been a bundle of joy lately, so he’s trying to fix it with cocoa and faux Christmas wreaths.”

Carlos takes another bite and thinks carefully about his next move. This new dynamic between them still feels tenuous, and he doesn’t want to fracture it. But at the same time, he can see the unfiltered hurt in T.K.’s eyes and he longs to help bear the weight of it. “You mentioned a breakup the other day,” he says quietly. “Is that part of why you came?”

T.K. blows out a breath and looks down at his cronut. “It’s the whole reason we came.”

Carlos watches as he wrestles internally and he’s just about to say that T.K. doesn’t have to tell him anything, when T.K. starts to speak again. “I had a boyfriend, in New York. Alex. We were together for like…I don’t know, a year I guess? He was the first boyfriend I’d had since getting sober and I wanted it to work so badly. Like this relationship was proof I finally had my shit together, you know?”

Carlos nods.

“I had this plan, I was going to propose to him. Had a ring, a restaurant, the whole thing. I was basically down on one knee and he—he told me he’d been cheating on me. With his spin instructor.”

Something hot and violent shoots through Carlos. “That motherfucker,” he says, before he can stop himself.

T.K. looks up in surprise and lets out a startled laugh.

“Sorry,” Carlos says. “That’s just…wow what an asshole.”

“Yeah he definitely was,” T.K. says, looking a little more relaxed now, as if Carlos’ angered sympathy has put him more at ease. “For a long time I think. I can look back on it now and see little moments. We only ever went where he wanted to go for dinner. He was always busy when I asked him to meet my friends. There was stuff I was overlooking because I was trying to prove to everyone else that I was stable.”

“I get that,” Carlos says.

T.K. shifts a little. “I went home after that, found a bottle of pills and…took them until I couldn’t feel anymore. My dad had to bust down the door to save my life.” He shrugs. “And that’s how we ended up here. He knew I needed to get away, so he took me as far as he could get.”

He looks up at Carlos. “I’m doing better now. Well, kind of.” He indicates his black eye. “But that’s why I freaked out on you that night. It wasn’t the champagne or anything you did. You were—you were so kind to me Carlos. I just wasn’t ready for it. And I’m really sorry that I walked out on you.”

The urge to reach over and touch him, to hold his hands and soothe away the hurt that’s painted into the lines of his forehead is overwhelming. But he’s not sure T.K. would be into that so he grips his own thighs instead. “Thank you for telling me,” he says. “That all sounds really difficult. I’m sorry I ambushed you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more understanding when I realized you were uncomfortable. I think um, I think my ego took a little bit of a hit,” he says sheepishly.

“Oh you think Mr. ‘I Know It Doesn’t Look Like a Lot of Work’?” T.K. asks with a grin.

“Hey, that fish took me like three hours to make,” Carlos teases. “You missed out.”

T.K. sobers a little and fiddles with his cronut again. “I think I missed out on a lot.”

Carlos opens his mouth to offer a response, but Lexi pokes her head into the break room. “Carlos, your phone is ringing off the hook.”

“Coming,” he says, sliding off the stool and picking up his plate with the last couple bites of cronut on it. “Are you going to the toy drive this afternoon?”

“Boss dad said be there so yeah, I’m going,” T.K. says. “Thanks for the cronut.”

“You’re welcome,” Carlos says and then hustles back to his cubicle, where his phone is indeed ringing off the hook. He shoves the last bite of cronut into his mouth as he sits down, chewing furiously before he picks up. “This is Carlos.”

An HR crisis means Carlos is the last one to leave the office and arrive at the fire station’s toy drive. He looks for T.K. as soon as he gets there, but Lexi pulls him over to a table where they’re taking donations for one of the local food pantries. 

“So,” Lexi says as they fill boxes with canned beans and stuffing mix and mac and cheese, “looks like someone’s back on Carlos Reyes’ nice list. Although with the way you were looking at him, seems more like you’d prefer he stay on the naughty list.”

“Lexi!” Carlos hisses, looking around. “There are kids here!”

“Oh they can’t hear me,” she scoffs, handing him a bag of flour. “They’re all at the make-an-ornament station.”

Carlos looks over and finds T.K. hunkered down by that very table, laughing and smiling as he helps a couple kids glue pompoms and sequins to colored paper. It’s adorable and Carlos’ heart melts a little at the sight.

“See? That look right there. You’ve got it bad. You want him to jingle your ba—“

“I’m going to remind you that I’m your HR rep and you probably shouldn’t finish that sentence,” he says quickly.

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes. “But you two did look pretty cozy in the break room earlier. The great branzino war is over I take it?”

“Yeah we had a good talk,” Carlos says.

She clears her throat. “You can say thank you anytime now you know.”

He furrows his brow. “For what?”

“For making you do Festive Friends and fixing your broken heart.”

“My heart was not broken,” he scoffs.

“You have been acting like you’re in the last ten minutes of a Hallmark movie for weeks. Time to finally realize you’re in love and kiss under the mistletoe,” Lexi tells him.

“Just because we’re friendly now doesn’t mean we’re going to kiss.”

“Okay. Sure. Believe whatever you want.”

There’s a massive influx then from a church group and thankfully the matter is dropped for the rest of the night.

On Friday Carlos stops at home to change his clothes before heading to a local bar for their holiday party and the big Festive Friends reveal. He puts on a pair of dark jeans and winces when he pulls on the ugly sweater that Owen insisted they all wear. As far as they go, his is pretty tame, albeit with a bit more sparkle and pizazz than he usually goes for. It says Feliz Navidad in tinseled letters with some primary colored pom poms decorating the rest for good measure. It had been part of a family white elephant a few years ago and has sat in the back of his closet since for good reason. 

He gabs the box he wrapped up for T.K. on the way out the door. It’s nearly as brightly colored as his sweater. Generally he tries for a more sedate theme in wrapped gifts, but T.K. is so vivacious and colorful that he broke into the stash of wrapping paper he usually saves for his nieces and nephews.

He’s nervous as he drives and he can’t quite put his finger on why. Is it because he wants T.K. to like his gift? Because things between him and T.K. have shifted in a more positive direction and his stupid heart can’t quite stop believing that tonight might be like that first night at the honky tonk? Is it because he feels very stupid in this sweater and he really hopes everyone else obeyed Owen’s instructions from the email invite?

Probably all of it.

Ah well. At least if things don’t go well there will be liquor around to help drown his sorrows.

There’s immediate relief when he walks in through the doors of the bar and sees holiday themed knit-ware all over. “Hey Carlos, glad you came,” Owen says, greeting him at the door in a sweater with a massive reindeer head on the front.

“Mr. Strand,” Carlos says, giving him a nod.

“Carlos we’ve been over this. You can call me Owen,” Owen says, a tinge of good natured exasperation in his tone. 

“Yes, right, sorry” Carlos says, embarrassed. Didn’t he just chide Mateo for the same thing last week? Somehow this seems different. And definitely a weird way to address the man who fathered his most recent hookup.

“Go ahead and grab a drink, there’s hors d’oeuvres, I highly recommended the stuffed mushrooms, and then when the time feels right make sure you deliver your gift to your Festive Friend,” Owen says brightly. Then he leans close. “I got Judd a new belt. Italian leather, handcrafted, this thing is a masterpiece. He is gonna love it!”

“I’m sure he will,” Carlos agrees.

“Oh! Nancy! Come on in!” Owen gives Carlos a pat on the shoulder and moves past him to greet her.

Carlos says hello to Judd and his wife Grace, his eyes searching the room and finally landing on T.K. who is standing at the bar chatting with Mateo. Carlos’ heart flutters at the sight of him even as he tries to figure out what the heck is knitted on the back of his sweater. It appears to be a long, yellow tail, but that can’t possibly be right, can it? He takes a breath and then abruptly loses courage and goes to find Lexi instead. “Nice earrings,” he says when he gets to her table.

“Thanks,” she says, pushing her hair back so he can see them better. “They’re from my ‘Festive Friend’ Marjan.”

“Great,” Carlos says as he grabs a chip from a bowl on the table. “Did you give Paul your gift?”

“Yes, he is thrilled with the crime novels I got him. He hasn’t read that author yet so hopefully he likes them.” She gives him a look. “Why do you still have T.K.’s?”

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Carlos says defensively.

“You mean you saw him and you’re too chicken to go over there because you’re having feelings and don’t know what to do with them,” she says bluntly. “Are you going to ask him out when you give it to him?”

“I—I don’t know,” Carlos says. “That seems pushy.”

“You two were practically making out in that break room.”

“We were literally sitting three feet apart,” Carlos says dryly. 

“Fine. You were emotionally making out.”

He wrinkles his nose. “That’s not a thing.”

“I think you should ask him. It’s Christmas. The season of miracles. And wishes. And Santa shit. This is your chance!” she says enthusiastically.

“How much have you had to drink?” he asks.

She scoffs. “This isn’t drunkeness. It’s my Christmas wish that you grow a pair and ask T.K. out.”

“That is a terrible wish,” Carlos says. 

“Well it is what it is. You wouldn’t want to break a girl’s heart at Christmas would you?”

He opens his mouth to respond but Paul calls Lexi’s name and beckons her toward him. “That’s my cue,” she says, hopping off her bar stool. “Gonna go kick Paul’s ass at darts. Good luck!”

And with that she’s gone, leaving Carlos alone with his feelings and his gift box. He stares at it for a moment and gives himself a stern pep talk. It’s a gift. Not a marriage proposal. If T.K. hates it, it’s whatever. 

“Hey Carlos.”

He’s waited too long. He looks up to find T.K. standing on the other side of the table, a smile on his face. Carlos can now see the front of his sweater. Some kind of lizard smiles at him, clearly the front end of the tail he spotted before. Above it are the words “Merry Crickets.” It is truly the most hideous thing he’s ever laid eyes on, but somehow T.K. makes it look adorable.

“Hey,” he replies..

Excellent. Great. He’s crushing this.

“Nice sweater,” T.K. says, taking a sip of the drink in his hand. 

“Thanks. This is some party. Your dad is quite the host.”

T.K. rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness to it. “Just be grateful I talked him out of chartering a party bus. And roller skating.”

“Your dad thought our holiday party should be at a roller rink?”

“He was going with an 80’s holiday theme at first,” T.K. says. “It took a lot of bargaining to get him down to ugly sweater instead. I think he was an event planner in a former life.”

“He definitely has a flair for it,” Carlos agrees. He looks down at the present in front of him. He should have gotten a drink before doing this. “So um, actually, I’m your Festive Friend. Surprise. This is for you.”

He slides it across the table and T.K.’s eyes immediately light up. “Can I open it now?” he asks eagerly.

He looks like a kid on Christmas morning and it’s so endearing that Carlos can barely breathe. “Yeah, yes, it’s all yours.”

T.K. pulls off the bow and rips open the paper, lifting out the soft yellow sweatshirt inside. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and Carlos feels a flutter of nerves. “It’s—“

“The sweatshirt Harry Styles wore in New York last summer,” T.K. says. His tone is almost reverent, his thumbs moving back and forth to stroke the material. “Oh my god. I have Harry Styles’ sweatshirt.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not the exact one he wore,” Carlos says, feeling sheepish. “But I know you like him and hoodies so it seemed right.”

“It must have taken forever for you to find this,” T.K. says.

“Oh, no, it was…it was no big deal,” Carlos says, omitting the entire night he spent on instagram combing through Harry’s outfits of the last few years and trying to find them for sale. 

“Thank you Carlos,” T.K. says, sincere gratitude in his voice. “This is amazing. All your gifts were amazing.”

“I mean, that hat was kind of lame,” Carlos says, still embarrassed that he bought something so generic.

“No it’s great! I’m going to wear it the next time I go to an Astros game,” T.K. says, a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

Carlos chuckles. “Yeah good luck with that.”

“Did you get your last gift yet?” T.K. asks casually.

Carlos shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Any guesses who it might be?”

He has no idea. There’s no one in the office that knows him well enough to send him cronuts besides Lexi and he knows she had Paul. “No,” he says. “Usually I’m pretty good at figuring this kind of thing out, but everyone in the office is so new I haven’t really been able to get a read on anyone.”

“Marjan?”

“She had Lexi.”

“Paul?” 

Carlos looks around until he finds him standing in a corner next to a Christmas tree, laughing at something Lexi just said. “I don’t think so. He’s from Chicago, I doubt he would know about Twiggy’s.”

“Judd?”

“Something tells me he wouldn’t know about cronuts either,” Carlos says with a laugh. “I feel like it has to be someone who knows me pretty well, but Lexi is the only one—“

His eyes land on T.K.’s face and he knows. He can see it in his eyes and he feels stupid he didn’t realize it before when T.K. used that false casual tone. “You?” he asks in surprise. “You’re my Festive Friend?”

T.K. reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an envelope. “Merry Christmas,” he says as he hands it to Carlos. 

Still in a little bit of shock Carlos carefully lifts the flap on the envelope to reveal a printed out email inside. “A cooking class?” he asks, looking up to search T.K.’s eyes. 

T.K. nods, a flicker of nerves flashing over his face. “It’s bruschetta, pasta, and a dessert. A husband and wife team run it out of their home. I thought, I mean you obviously know how to cook, but I thought it might be fun.”

“It sounds amazing,” Carlos says genuinely. He’s always wanted to try his hand at homemade pasta.

T.K. nods and takes a breath. “I um, I got you two tickets. You can take whoever you want, but I—“ He runs his hands nervously over his jeans. “I know I fucked things up between us, so I was hoping that maybe this could be kind of a do-over for us. If you want?”

“Yes,” Carlos says immediately. It’s embarrassingly fast and absolutely gives away how badly he wants them to try again, but he doesn’t care. “Yes I would love a do-over.”

“Yeah?” T.K. asks, his eyes full of hope.

“Yeah,” Carlos says. A smile plays on his lips and he’s about to thank T.K. for his other gifts when something occurs to him. “You little shit!” he says incredulously. “You bought me those cronuts and then sat there and ate one like you had no clue who’d given them to me!”

T.K. sends him a wicked smile. “I was counting on your holiday generosity,” he says.

“How did you even know about that bakery?” Carlos asks.

“You mentioned it,” T.K. says. “I don’t know, it was the second or third time we hooked up. I saw a flyer for them on your fridge and you told me how good they were.”

“You remember that?” Carlos asks in surprise. After their blowup he’d convinced himself that he was just a warm body for T.K. to be with, another notch in his bedpost who’d meant nothing to him.

T.K. looks at him, his face serious. “I remember all of it Carlos.”

The words make his heart swell and he hysterically wonders if this is how the Grinch felt when he heard the Who’s singing on Christmas. “I remember too,” he says. “It was incredible.”

“That first night, in the honky tonk. Best bathroom hookup of my life,” T.K. tells him.

“Only bathroom hookup of my life,” Carlos says.

“Yeah, I know,” T.K. says with a roll of his eyes.

“How could you know that?”

“Because you kept looking around like it was the most unsanitary thing you’d ever seen in your life,” T.K. tells him. “So I made it my mission to make you forget all about it. Pretty sure I succeeded.”

Carlos flushes as he  thinks about T.K.’s mouth and his hands and the way they felt on his body. “You definitely did.” His gaze drops to T.K.’s lips. “God, I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

T.K. smirks, clearly please that he’s turned Carlos on in the middle of this bar. “What’s stopping you?”

“Um the fact that all of our co-workers are here. And also your dad,” Carlos says with a laugh.

As if on cue Owen’s voice rings out over the crowd. “All right everyone!” He claps his hands a couple times. “If I could have everyone’s attention please! Thank you all for coming to the 126 Designs holiday party. I have a little surprise up my sleeve. Tonight, we are going to be participating in some holiday karaoke!”

A bar employee rolls a karaoke machine in out of nowhere to cheers from the crowd. “Did you know?” Carlos asks.

“No,” T.K. says. “But I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Get on over here!” Owen encourages them. “Judd! Let’s hear a little Deck the Halls buddy!”

“Come on.”

T.K. reaches for Carlos’ hand and pulls him toward a side door. “Wait, what about karaoke?” Carlos asks.

“Do you really want to stay here and listen to my dad attempt a version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town?”

Carlos considers this. “Actually…”

T.K. laughs and tugs him again. “Come on Reyes.”

They step outside into the night, the door closing behind them. It’s quiet and the air has a slight chill. Nothing that would even hint at a white Christmas, but enough that it feels like the holiday season instead of the dead of summer. A few stars have managed to permeate the light pollution and the moon shines brightly above them.

The side of the restaurant is lit by a single streetlamp, giving them just enough light to see each other, but also the illusion of privacy from anyone else who might be walking by. T.K. leans against the brick of the wall and tugs Carlos toward him, dropping his hand so he can grab his waist, his thumb pressing into the crease between Carlos’ thigh and his hip through his pants. “Well,” T.K. says, the cocky ass smirk on his face that shoots something hot through Carlos’ veins. “Go ahead. Kiss away.”

Carlos looks around in fake concern. “Mmm, I don’t know. Someone could still see us out here.”

“Don’t worry,” T.K. pulls a sprig of mistletoe from his pocket and dangles it over their heads. “I swiped this from inside. Now you have to kiss me. Christmas rules.”

“Oh is that right?” Carlos asks with smile, pressing in a little closer, and lifting a hand to run it through T.K.’s hair before sliding it down to cradle the back of his neck.

“Definitely,” T.K. says.

Carlos doesn’t waste another second before leaning in and fitting their lips together. The sparks inside him whirl and dance before bursting into full on flames. It feels like coming home. 

T.K. opens up and invites him in, their bodies coming flush together, searching for as much contact as possible. Carlos fists one hand into T.K.’s hair, the other landing solidly on his lower back and urging him closer, while T.K.’s roam everywhere, traveling Carlos’ biceps, his chest, his back, his ass, and everything in between. 

Carlos slots a thigh between T.K.’s legs, pressing into him and T.K.’s head falls back against the wall, eyes closing as he lets out something between a groan and a sigh. Carlos smiles and uses the change in position to press kisses into the sensitive spot just below his ear. “I missed you,” he says in between breaths.

“I missed you too. Am I going to have to report this to HR?” T.K. asks.

Carlos pauses and pulls back, sending T.K. a withering look. “Haha,” he says dryly. “Thanks for reminding me that I’m going to have my hands full with this one in the new year.”

“My ass is quite a handful,” T.K. says with a smirk. “But you can handle it. It’s just a little bit of paperwork. And someone got you really nice pens for the holidays.”

“Yeah someone did,” Carlos says, poking him in the side until he squirms. “Speaking of paperwork, you owe me a thank you note for your gifts.”

T.K. bites his lip. “Why don’t you take me back to your place and I’ll do a little better than a thank you note?”

Fuck. Carlos swallows hard. “What about the party? Won’t your dad be upset?”

“I’m spending Christmas day with him. He’ll live.” He slides a finger along the waistband of Carlos’ jeans. “We can go back in if you really want to though. I do a mean rendition of Jingle Bell Rock. We can stand in there with all of our co-workers and you can try not to think about how good I’d make you feel if the two of us were in bed together.”

Carlos strokes a thumb across T.K.’s cheek. “As much as I would like to hear you sing Jingle Bell Rock, I think I’d rather take you home.”

T.K. gestures toward the street. “Then lead on Festive Friend.”

It’s the merriest Christmas Carlos has had in a long time. 

[narrators-journal]

I'm coming home for Christmas

This was a bit of a curveball bc I don’t write much for a Machi. But! I had a lot of fun writing for her! And some WLW is always nice! I hope this is good and fluffy, with plenty of Christmas vibes! Sorry if it’s a bit short for the time it took, I took a bit of time for some more indulgent projects to refresh before I returned to asks. There’s another one in the wings, but god help me with that bc u hxh bitches (affectionate) sometimes hit me with the craziest of f/o requests that I forgot existed LMAO. Guess that’s what I get for still refusing to refresh on hxh’s anime <3

As a woman with a long-distance girlfriend like your Machi, you knew better than to expect even a face-time call for Christmas. So, you simply made yourself some adorable Christmas cookies, put on a movie, and settled down onto your couch for an evening of lightly unsettling stop motion and self-indulgence.

At least, that had been your plan for the night, with, of course, room in the schedule made for a potential phone call. But, you didn’t expect a call from the pink-haired beauty that you had the honor of calling yours. So, it was a bit of a surprise when the sun set on your snow-blanketed apartment building and you had just begun Rudolph, and somebody knocked at your front door.

With a press of a button, you paused your movie and listened for a long, tense moment. Your plate of cookies forgotten on the coffee table, your senses on edge, and your eyes locked on the handle of your front door while your brain ran through any escape routes or weapons you had on hand for a break-in. Until, “Hon, I know you’re in there, you can open the door.” The anxiety popped like a bubble, and you were at the front door to throw it open and see your slightly monotone girlfriend out in the chilly, flickery, hallway.

Machi stood before you with a flower in one hand, a reindeer antler headband nestled into her wild, fluffy pink hair with one of the flimsy felt antlers drooped forward. She looked tired, with a homemade splint on her wrist, but you could tell that she’d at least tried to get a bit dolled up, as she had on a clean t-shirt and a good pair of jeans that only had one suspicious rip along her inner thigh. She had even used the techniques you’d taught her to put on a touch of concealer, blush, and light pink lipstick to try and soften her strong, beautiful, experience-chiseled face. “Mochi! How the hell are you here?! I thought you were out of town for work until after new years.” asked as you let the woman into your home and accepted the rose from her. “My boss let me off a bit early because I got my tasks done. I decided not to tell you to try and surprise you for Christmas.” She explained with a small, slightly awkward ‘tada’ gesture.

Machi wasn’t that good with emotions. She was clinically cold, she had to be with her childhood, so being warm and affectionate was a challenge for her, even when it came to you. Which, you had gotten used to and grown to find quite charming. Especially when she showed her affection with little moments like how she followed you into the living room to watch you put the offered rose into a cup of water and plop back onto the couch to return to your movie. With how she kept the goofy headband on as she sat beside you and draped her well-muscled, powerful arm over your shoulders to let you cuddle into her side and return to Rudolph.

Neither of you spoke as you settled for the cheesy movie. You had learned not to pry into whatever nebulous work the pink-haired woman had, and not to ask about the damage she’d gotten to her wrist. You knew better than to ruin the moment and your holiday by extension.

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 22

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings: smut (MF, vaginal sex)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 2904

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 22

Melody had gone to work the following day feeling more focused and a little more in control.  Steve’s fans were relentless and awful.  Melody wanted to lock her social media down but she needed it for work.  So instead she ignored it, letting the rabble call her every name in the book, both sexist and racist, and all completely delusional, and she focused on making her workplace safer.

Tony met her at the office by mid-morning and when he declared that there was no malware or noticeable hacks, he upgraded the security and added a fingerprint and facial recognition login to stop anyone getting into her computer.

“You really didn’t have to go all out like this,” she said, as Tony packed up his things.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, waving her off.  “Besides, we can’t have Cap’s personal business splashed around the internet.  It makes the rest of us look like complete deviates in comparison.”

“You mean you’re not?” she teased.

“Of course I am,” he said, winking at her.  “But I could do without the comparison.”

He gathered up his stuff and Melody walked him to the exit.  “Have fun on your trip.  I said Cap could take the jet. I’m staying in town so someone might as well.  But in exchange, we get him for Christmas.”

“That is a more than fair trade.  I don’t actually like going home that much,” she replied.

She stopped at the elevator with him and put her hand on his arm. “Thank you, Tony.  For everything.” 

He gave her a half hug, kissing her cheek. “You got it,” he said.  “Let us know if anything else happens.  If Cap’s got a stalker, it really is Avengers business.”

“Will do,” she agreed.

After Tony left she called a staff meeting, explaining what had happened regarding the email to Jameson.

“Look,” she said, leaning back in her chair and looking around at her team.  “I really love this team.  I trust all of you, but someone was listening in while I made private plans with my boyfriend.  I don’t want to believe it was any of you, but if I find out it is, it’ll be immediate termination.  That is a vile invasion of privacy.  I shouldn’t have to worry about coming to work and someone here stalking me around the city.  I had a rule when I brought you all one.  No assholes.  Please don’t be an asshole.  And if you hear about anyone alerting the paps about where I’m going to be with Steve, then let me know.  Please.”  She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’d put my money on it being Norah.  She doesn’t like me.  That’s no secret.  And she’s always sniffing about.  But I want to make it clear where my line sits.”

The rest of the day she spent making sure all the content was ready and queued to post while she was away and that all the projects that weren’t done yet had been delegated to other people.  She and Steve were planning to leave for Oregon straight from work and as it got close to the time, she was due to be picked up, she was glad for the fact the jet would wait for them.

By the time she was running out the front door of the building she was fifteen minutes late, frantic, and panicking that she’d forgotten something.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said to the driver as he held the door open for her.  She repeated it again as she slid into the backseat of the car with Steve.

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Steve assured her.  “The jet will wait for us.”

“Yeah, but you were waiting in traffic,” she argued.

He laughed and put his hand on her cheeks and looked into her eyes. “It’s fine.  Relax.”

She didn’t really know how she could.  With what had happened at work, now she was flying home for the first time in over two years to spend a week with a family she was still angry with, and to introduce them to her new boyfriend.  There was too much to just relax about.  “Easy for you to say,” she grumbled, teasing despite the truth to it.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Very easy.  I’m about to meet my girlfriend’s parents.  Parents who rejected her best friend, a child who they thought of as family too, came out as trans.  Oh, and at a time when my fans are relentlessly attacking her online calling her names, I wouldn’t dare repeat.  It’s very easy for me to relax.”

She scrunched her nose and leaned in, kissing his plump lips softly.  “You’re not responsible for your fans.  Especially not fans that don’t actually seem to be able to interpret the message you’re putting out there correctly, because if they were real fans they wouldn’t be sending me the kinds of things they’re sending me.  And as for my parents, I’m mad at them and I’ll continue being mad even when they do realize that they chose the wrong side.  And I do truly think they will come around, because they raised me to be loving and opening and accepting.  Mom’s best friend rejected their child when they couldn’t accept they were a daughter and not a son and mom didn’t want to lose her friend by offering her a home.  When I walked out too, she put her back up, the way people do.  In any case, they will love you.  So you don’t need to worry about them.  And maybe you can help them see how they were so wrong.”

He caressed her cheek and stole another kiss.  “So what you’re saying is; we both need to relax.”

She laughed.  “Something like that.”

The drive out to the airport where Tony’s private hanger was kept was uneventful but when the car pulled onto the runway rather than going through security, Melody couldn’t help but look out the window in awe.  It drove right up to Tony Stark’s Boeing 737 and stopped by the stairs where a flight attendant was waiting.  She greeted them both as they got out and airport staff grabbed their bags from the trunk and carried them onboard.  Steve and Melody followed along as the flight attendant told them about their travel time and expected time of arrival.  The plane was far grander than I’d imagined.

Melody had never been on a private jet before, but in her head they were little planes with just a couple of fancy seats in it that rich people took so they didn’t have to huddle down with the masses.  This jet was large.  The kind people typically took for domestic flights between major cities, with the business class section of columns of two seats, and then two columns of three for economy.  Only instead of rows and rows of seating, there was a collection of four large swivel seats just inside the door to the cabin, followed by couches by a large screen and a bar, and then more further down that was walled off from view.  It was spacious and opulent, and her whole apartment probably could have been sliced up and fit inside.

The flight attendant led them to the seats just inside the cabin and gestured for them to sit.  “We’ll be taking off shortly.  You’ll need to stay buckled up for take off but then you have free reign of the plane until we land.  We will be serving a meal about three hours in.  Can I get either of you something now?  A drink?  Something to eat?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Steve said as he buckled himself in.  Melody shook her head and echoed Steve’s words and the flight attendant began walking down the cabin doing the takeoff checks.

“This is so fancy,” Melody said. “I mean - I expected it to be fancy, but this is fancy-fancy.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot. It’s very Tony though, and it’s really nice of him to have offered it.  I always feel so cramped up in economy,” he said.  “There’s a queen-sized bed back there.”  He gestured behind himself with his thumb.

She peered past him, looking down the length of the cabin down the hall.  “Seriously?  What the hell?” Her eyes flicked back to him. “You would have flown economy with me?”

He smiled and tilted his head.  “Of course, I would have.”

Melody hated the gap between them.  She really wanted to unbuckle the seatbelt, straddle his lap, and kiss him until they landed in Oregon.  Instead, she poked out her foot and tapped him on the shin.  “You keep that up and you’re totally joining the mile-high club today.”

“Keep what up?” Steve chuckled.  “Telling you cheaper modes of transport I’d take for you?  Oh, Mel, I’d totally hire an economy-sized car for you.  One of those ones that only have two doors and a hatchback.”

“Oh baby,” Melody laughed.

“You like that do you?” Steve teased.  “Then you’ll love this.  I’d catch a bus for you, Melody Danes.”

Melody’s hands went to her crotch and she flicked her fingers out.  “Sploosh,” she teased.  “My panties, Steve.”

He lost it laughing.  “I’d do Uber ride share for you, honey.”

They both broke down in peels of laughter.  The plane had begun to taxi out to the runway and as they settled back down again and when they were given the all-clear, Melody unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up. “I want to go look at the rest of the plane,” she said.

Steve stood and gestured to the back of the plane.  “After you.”

It was only a few steps down to the entertainment area with its bar, couches, and big screen.  “If you want we can watch a movie during the flight,” he said.  “And I’m sure Tony won’t mind if you want a drink.  Rhodey tells me there are stripper poles that come out from the ground somewhere here, but I don’t know if that’s true or how to get them to come out to see either way.”

“Oh man, Tony’s a card,” Melody said as she looked around.  “I wonder how many in-air strip shows have happened up here.”

“I’m too scared to ask,” he said.

There were two doors to the right as they walked down a corridor toward the back of the plane.  “This is a bedroom,” Steve said, opening one of the doors.  It was small and simple inside, just a full bed and barely enough room to move around it.  It was still impressive given it was on a plane.  He didn’t open the next door, but he rapped the back of his knuckles on it as he passed. “That’s Tony’s workshop.”

“He has a workshop?  On his jet?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Sometimes he needs last-minute repairs or additions to the suit.  It’s probably the most practical thing on here.”

They reached a door, and Steve opened it and stepped into the room beyond.  Melody stopped dead with her mouth hanging open.  It was clearly the main bedroom and was more opulent than she could have ever imagined.  The queen-sized bed sat to the right of the door and was decorated in rich golds and reds.  Opposite was a screen for watching television or movies, and to the right was a wardrobe.  “Holy hell,” she said.  “This is nicer than my room.”

“I don’t know about that,” Steve said, going to open the door at the very end.  “Bathroom.”

Melody closed the door behind her before she approached Steve and poked her head into the bathroom.  She stood with her mouth hanging open as she looked into it.  It was black and gold with enough space to move around and even had a shower that would easily fit both of them.  There was an alcove with fluffy robes and towels hanging in it, and an assortment of shampoos, soaps, and lotions on the sink.  “Well, this is definitely nicer than my bathroom.”

Steve laughed and nodded.  “I’ll agree to that.”

She turned and stood up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around Steve’s neck.  “How much sex do you think that bed has seen?”

Steve laughed and leaned into her, ghosting his lips over hers.  “That is a question I never want the answer to, but I’d say more than I’ve ever had.”

She laughed with him and captured his lips.  He kissed her back, slowly and deeply, his lips parting when her tongue coaxed them open.  His hands ran down her back and settled on her ass.  His fingers tightened and he lifted her, just enough that her feet were off the floor, but her toes grazed the carpet, and he carried her over to the bed.  Melody’s hands went to his cheeks and she held his face in place as she kissed along his jaw. “Is this really happening?”

He chuckled and set her on the bed, guiding her back as she crawled up between her legs.  “You said I could join the mile-high club if I kept telling you what kind of transportation I’d take for you.”

“Oh right, of course,” she said, holding his cheeks and looking into his eyes.  “How could I forget?”

She pulled him down into another deep kiss and they began to strip.  First kicking off their shoes and letting them clatter to the floor, and then breaking their kiss just long enough to pull off their shirts.  As they kissed frantically and passionately they worked down each other’s pants.  Steve’s hands deftly unfastening Melody’s fly, as Melody fumbled with his.  He managed to get hers down first and she kicked them aside and then together they worked his off.

By the time they were both completely naked, she was wet and aching for him.  She wrapped her hand around his cock, pumping it as she slid the head up and down her slit.  “Mmm - fuck, Steve,” she hummed as she tapped the head on her clit.  “I want you so badly.”

“So what are you waiting for, honey?” Steve teased.

She pressed his cock to her entrance, but held him there, not letting him push in at all.  He pulled back and looked down at her.  “What are we waiting for?” he asked.

She bit her bottom lip.  “You to beg.”

Steve rolled you both over, so she was straddling him.  He looked up at her, his blue eyes darkened with lust and he arched his back.  “Please, Melody.  Please.  I need to be inside you so badly.”

She pushed herself up on her knees and held herself over his cock.  “Good boy,” she praised and lowered herself down.

They moaned in unison, Steve raising his hips as Melody leaned forward and braced her hand on his shoulders.  She began to ride him, slowly moving up and down on his cock.  Every time she pushed herself up, she squeezed her walls around his thick shaft, and when she dropped back down again she stopped just before he hit her cervix.

He reached up to touch her and she grabbed his hands and pushed them above his head. “God, Steve,” she moaned.  “You fill me so good.”

“That’s right, honey,” he growled.  “You take me so well.”

“Made for you, Steve,” she moaned.

He twisted his wrists, grabbing hers and pinning her hands behind her back and he leaned up and kissed her as he snapped his hips up into her.  She mewled into his lips, a soft high feeling setting over her.  She rolled her hips as he thrusting up into her and they kissed deeply and passionately.

Pleasure coiled through her like a snake, winding its way around each of her muscles and then tightening at once as her orgasm tore through her.  She cried out loudly as her orgasm tore through her.  Steve groaned, his hips bucking up wildly as her walls squeezed and milked his cock.  His balls tightened and he threw his head back, moaning loudly as he came inside her.

“Fuck, Steve,” she sighed, cradling his jaw and looking down into her eyes.  “That was amazing.  What a way to join the mile-high club.” 

She kissed him deeply and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close as he could as they kissed.  Slowly she pulled back, sucking on his bottom lip as she did.

“We should probably take a quick shower and head back out there,” he said.

“Yeah, they did say they were bringing us food,” she said.

He laughed. “Don’t want them bringing it in here when we’re like this,” he chuckled.

She laughed with him, pecking her lips and getting off his lap.  “I think we need to fly economy next time.  I could too easily get used to this,” she said.

He followed after her, squeezing her butt.  “Trying to get all turned on again as I list all the transport I will take for you?” he asked.

She giggled and turned around, grabbing his hands and backing into the bathroom. “Mile-high shower sex club,” she joked. “What do you say?”

Steve leaned down, hovering his lips over hers.  “I say I lead the way,” he said.  He captured her lips, kissing her deeply.  Melody kissed back passionately. It was nice, with all this mess around them, they could find these moments where nothing could touch them.

// NEXT

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

MONKEYBONE

Here are some pre-production drawings done for MONKEYBONE, a film directed by Henry Selick. I worked on the film very briefly, perhaps only a week or two, helping with story beat boards. It was a fun gig, in part due to the location in The Presidio.

Nowadays The Presidio is one of the jewels of San Francisco - a truly beautiful parkland for residents to play in - but when I first arrived in San Francisco, it was still a functioning military base. It was already known that it would soon close, however. So discussion about what was next for the site bubbled for the first few years that I lived here. Would it become low income housing? Or yet another swanky property development, as seemed likely. Who else but big money could pay for the cleanup required after the military had left so many toxic cooties (asbestos etc) behind? 

Anyway, while such things were being decided, some of the abandoned buildings would be rented out for short term projects, one being an animated/live action comedy, that was in pre-production circa 1998 (adapted from a graphic novel - DARKTOWN  by Kaja Blackley & Vanessa Chong). I worked on MONKEYBONE in the early, eager, happy, anything-is-possible phase. It may have been so early that our work was merely a proposal, before a ‘green light’. 

Henry himself was in a great spirits, now that he was out of the shadow of Tim Burton, and Chris Columbus was his exec producer. Many of the crew were Henry’s old cronies from Nightmare Before Christmas, such as production designer Bill Boes. He’d already built models of some of the sets & locations, and these were great reference. With a tiny lipstick camera we could shoot the models from all kinds of angles, and this was enormously helpful, allowing myself & Lawrence Marvitt to bang out panels relatively quickly, under the guidance of Mike Cachuela.

Many things had not yet been decided on, such as casting. The protagonist in my sketches here was based on Nicolas Cage, but of course Brendan Fraser got the role of of Stu. Other roles were played by Rose McGowan, Dave Foley, Bob Odenkirk, John Turturro, Whoopi Goldberg, Chris Kattan and even Breaking Bad’s Giancarlo Esposito. The final film really had an amazing cast.

The Presidio was not yet full of dining options, but our workspace wasn’t far from the Presidio gates, where we’d have lunch at Liverpool Lil’s, a great little pub (that has recently burned down, sadly). I also remember a really fun swanky dinner (I forget now where) with the entire tiny pre-pro crew, where Henry was in a jovial mood and writer Sam Hamm was too. Both hilariously regaling us with their Hollywood horror stories (and comparing their scars inflicted by Tim Burton). Best of all, someone else picked up the exorbitant check! (I think it was Sam Hamm?)

Years after my brief stint on MONKEYBONE I got an invite to a preview screening in early 2001. The film was madcap, weird, & even disturbing at times. Much of what I’d thought would be animated was actually handled with costumed humans in the final film, surprisingly. But it was exciting to have worked on a feature film that actually got made. This was a period where I worked on many great projects that collapsed before making it to the screen. I remember enjoying it until the very end, when I saw that I hadn't got a credit (I hadn't worked on it long enough apparently). In the lobby after the screening, there were a lot of concerned/worried/disappointed faces. Whereas I was bummed that my name was was not in the credits, many people seemed unhappy that their names were.

Ha ha!

Sure enough, the film was a financial & critical flop and has low score to this very day (despite a tiny subset of viewers who still love it, and look back on it fondly). I learned that there had been much tussling along the way to the screen. Perhaps the guy who'd done Home Alone was not the right choice to ‘mentor’ Henry? Did things go sideways after Rupert Murdoch fired Bill Mechanic? Or was it merely typical studio meddling? My guess is it was another case of AOTA: all of the above.

Henry himself sums up MONKEYBONE this way:

"I have two thoughts: it never would have been a big hit. It certainly would have done better if they advertised it a little... I would still like to do a Director's Cut because there's a lot of cool stuff that was removed... my main lesson learned is, I don't really do well in the live-action universe... I love my world of stop-motion... I went down a slippery slope to make Monkeybone, but the film that came out it's not my vision of what the film could've been, and I just don't thrive in that.”

Not long after I worked there, the fate of The Presidio was finally decided when George Lucas’ proposal to develop The Letterman hospital into a media centre was accepted in 1999. And it became the mixed-use space SF residents play in today.

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Just last weekend, we spent a day in The Presidio, enjoying its restaurants & bars and exploring the new Tunnel Tops park. As we strolled around, I tried to figure out which of The Presidio's many buildings we worked in in 1998, but couldn't pin it down (of course, the Letterman hospital complex was levelled to build what became ILM/Lucasfilm, so perhaps the buildings we worked in are gone).