#this was supposed to be posted in time for hanukkah but life said no :[ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roger-that-cap · 4 years ago

Text

brand new eyes

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: having a penpal in the sixth grade was overdone, in your opinion. and handwritten letters just weren’t convenient. you weren’t happy at all to start talking to some random girl your age across the sea, but once you started, neither of you could find it in you to stop.

warnings: fluff!!!! mutual pining. badly written letters (actually the whole one shot). brief battle with sexuality. a seriously strong connection between two characters (almost soulmate territory here tbh). every single mistake here is 100% mine!

word count: 8.7k!

At first, you were sure that the pen pal letter suggestion for extra credit was stupid. Why would you handwrite a letter when you could send an email? Why would you send a letter by mail that would take much longer? It took two weeks for a handwritten letter to arrive, and only seconds for an email. It didn’t make any sense.

And then you got your first letter.

You realized very quickly why handwriting was what your teachers asked for. You never knew that handwriting could be so vulnerable, so open. You had never seen letters that were so loopy, so delicate. That letter was written so neatly and so personally even if the girl who had written it hadn’t meant it to be that way, and you knew that a computer even with all of its special fonts wouldn’t be able to do that.

You understood why the handwritten rule was there.

But you didn’t like it when it was your turn to craft something so beautiful.

It wasn’t a competition by any means, but you didn’t want your letter to look anything like the words you scratched down into your notebooks. You wanted them to be neat and pretty and most of all understandable for the girl behind the pen and across the sea, because she had done the same for you.

By the time you stopped ogling over the letters and started actually reading the words that the girl had written, you learned her name. You learned it within the first line, actually.

Wanda Maximoff.

She was obviously from Sokovia, she spoke English as her second language, and she had an older twin brother that she both adored and was annoyed by. She was in the equivalent of your grade in her country, and she liked to cook with her parents. The letter was basic and slightly elementary, just an introduction to what she was willing to share with a stranger that lived thousands of miles away.

But that didn’t make it any less special.

You started on your return letter minutes after you let her pretty words sink in.

You drafted your letter and let it sit for an hour without you looking at it, and then came back to it only to cross things out and revise it, and then put it on the expensive paper that your mother had bought for you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. It started with a greeting, your name, and then into the same sort of things that she spoke about in her own letter, the things that people that went to school with you had learned in passing over the years.

It felt like giving someone the rundown of your uneventful life so far in the simplest of ways. It felt like someone getting to know you as you wanted them to, because you were telling your story. There was no other side, or truth, or lie, just what your pen and your brain decided to write. It was controlled chaos. And you adored it.

Your print was easy to read. It wasn’t loopy like hers or as “girlish”, as one of your classmates said when you brought both letters to school to get an extra one hundred. It wasn’t fancy and alluring like hers, but there was still something magical on the pseudo-aged parchment.

You sent it off to the post office the next day, and you put her letter on your desk.

§§§

By the time that your third letter from her came, you already were drafting your own. It came straight to your mailbox and when you checked the mail that morning, you were ecstatic to see it waiting for you, like a pet waiting for it’s person to come home. As usual, it started off with the gentle scrawl of your name, just a bit larger than all of the rest of the words that were on the page.

I can’t believe that it’s already been weeks of us writing. We started in August, and it’s nearing the end of October. Speaking of, is it starting to get cold there for you? It’s already cold for us. Our grandmother always makes us the best tea and soup when it gets cold outside, and I could send you the recipe if you wanted!

My brother and I are curious about one thing, and we hope that we get your answer in time, but, is Halloween really a thing? We have both heard of it, but we’ve never done it here. It sounds magical. I’ve always wanted to dress up however I wanted and get candy for it. If I were to do it, I would probably be a Disney Princess, maybe Merida. Sadly, we don’t do that here. Does it really happen in the United States, or is that a movie thing?

Hopefully you don’t mind my questions much, or my short letter. Pietro likes to read over my shoulder while I write and receive the letters, and I like to write at the kitchen table. There’s no escaping him. You’ve never talked about siblings, do you have them?

The rest of the letter was like that, aloof yet curious and bouncing around all the same, and then signed with her always rushed conclusion, which was nearly the same every time.

You read it and put the letter in the box that you had bought from a thrift store, a box just big enough for the size of the neatly folded and tied off letters that she gave you. You clipped the box shut and put it back under your desk, and then started working on your response.

Instead of just a letter, you sent her a letter in a small box that had the candy that you had gotten on Halloween night, and the mask that went with the rest of your costume. It wasn’t the Disney Princess that Wanda wanted to dress up as, but it was something. It was your something.

§§§

As the December portion of your letter writing, you and your penpal were supposed to learn of the other’s traditions during the Holidays, whether you or them celebrated or not. A huge slide show about the culture of your Sokovian friend was supposed to be shown, and you knew that there would be a lot of the same PowerPoints, a lot of the same pictures and sayings and explanations. You wanted something different. You also had no idea if Wanda did Christmas, but you had to ask.

Wanda,

I’m sure that you know that our assignment now is to present a slide show about what our penpal does during the Holiday season, but because I don’t know whether you celebrate Diwali or Christmas or Hanukkah, I’ll start with asking you about New Years, because I’ve never met a person who didn’t celebrate New Years.

What do you do on New Years Eve? I’ll start by telling you that I watch the ball drop with my family, eat food, and drink cider after it hits midnight. It’s a big deal here for us, because the new year is a time for self revolution, apparently. I’ve never done a New Years resolution, but maybe I’ll do one this year. Have you ever done one?

I know that food is very big over in Sokovia, so what kind of food do you traditionally have when you’re celebrating? Do you like it? Can you cook it yourself? Because I know that you have the same questions for me that you have to put in before you leave for Winter Break, I’ll answer my own questions.

And you did. You were thorough, partly because you thought that it was kind of you to do so because she should get a good grade, and also because she had written that she was thankful for your descriptions on multiple occasions. You had noticed that she was the more whimsical writer and that you came off as the more grounded one, and it intrigued you.

You wondered if you two would come off that way in person to other people, if you ever got the chance to meet.

When her letter came two weeks later, wrapped in aged string as always, you skipped to your bedroom, already pulling the box out from under the table and starting to read it. You smiled through the whole thing.

In her own way, not as precise or even in order as you, she had told you everything you needed to do a good slide show about Sokovia during the Holidays.

§§§

You were emotional at the end of the year. Not because you were leaving the sixth grade and going to a new building in the school and leaving behind your kind teachers, but because the pen pal assignment was over.

No other assignment had been so important to you, or eye opening. You were only twelve years old, but you were old enough to know that you had never found a friend like you had in Wanda, who was still thousands of miles away. No one else, not even the people that stood feet apart from you, offered you friendship like Wanda Maximoff did.

You couldn’t stop writing to her.

It was your turn to send a letter, the final letter that you were supposed to send, and then her closing letter was supposed to come two weeks later. You couldn’t just close it. Your entire mind was screaming at you to not close the book that you had hardly started yet.

So, as your pen rested on the parchment paper (without drafting first), you lifted it up, and changed your mentality from a “goodbye” to a hopeful and questioning one, as you hoped that she felt the same and wanted to talk just as much as you did.

Wanda,

It’s the end of the year. Technically, we should be done with our letters because it’s the end of the year, and the assignment is graded. This should be a closing letter, but I don’t think that our friendship was ever dictated by the grades that we got. We were always closer than all of the other pen pals at school that I knew, and I was hoping that you would want to continue writing.

You couldn’t write much more after that, because your pen was shaking and you were starting to get in the danger zone of dropping tears on the paper. If this was your last letter to Wanda, you wanted it to be pretty. Just half as pretty as she always made hers, if you could manage it.

You sent it off the next morning after finding an old string that was nearly the same colors as hers and getting your friend across the street to hold it down and color the outside of it for you.

§§

A part of you wanted to say that you wouldn’t have been expecting to still write handwritten letters to a girl in Sokovia in the ninth grade, but you certainly were. While everyone else in your class had lost contact after the assignments were done or tried and failed to keep contact afterwards, you and Wanda continued talking all through the years.

It astounded your parents, who were sure that in the beginning, you were just obsessed with someone who was your age and who wasn’t exactly like you. They thought for sure that you would have lost interest in talking to Wanda, but after three straight years, gas spent taking you to the post office, and money spent on special stamps and the same paper, they were starting to finally get the hint.

Because you were so close with Wanda, you hardly had close friends in your neighborhood, and maybe two or three at school. There was no one that knew you like Wanda did, and no one that knew Wanda like you did. One particular letter where you confessed probably the worst thing you had ever done to her that no one else knew was what finally let you know that she was the most judgement-free person in the world, and that you would do anything to keep her. You would never forget how the letter went, and how her response sounded.

Wands,

I’ve done something terrible. I may have accidentally gotten involved with a boy who already had a girlfriend, and I had no idea. I had literally no idea, and today she just called me out of nowhere and started crying over the phone to me, and I had no idea that he was with her. At all. It was so pitiful, and she’s not mad, and she says that she won’t tell anyone it was me, but still. She seemed to really like him, and I think I may have just ruined a relationship. I have no idea what to do, and all I feel is guilt. Nothing more or less. Should I send her something? Give her a gift card? I feel terrible because she was just so sweet about it.

The letter went on and on with your scripted rambling, so repetitive and panicked that you were shocked to know that Wanda had, in fact, read the entire thing. She got a message back to you rather quickly, and that made you both nervous about her verdict and glad, because you felt like with an answer so quick, she must not have judged you too harshly. You remembered opening it with shaky hands, and inhaling and exhaling when her first words after your nickname were “breath in” and “breathe out”.

Wanda once said that writing to you was like writing to a diary who always wrote back, and you couldn’t agree more. She knew everything, and she never judged. And, when the time came for her to put all of her eggs in your basket of trust, you did the same for her.

You distinctly remembered getting the few letters that you kept at the bottom of your letter stack, even though you liked to have them in chronological order. In the eighth grade, Wanda was having a crisis over her sexuality. Being anything but straight in Sokovia wasn’t the best thing to be, and you knew that. The first letter she ever sent you about her sexuality had dried spots on it, where she had obviously cried. Her handwriting wasn’t anywhere as neat as it usually was, and it sent you into a state of panic.

We talk to each other about everything, so here I am asking for your advice because I won’t be getting anything here. I know that usually we keep our letters formal for aesthetic purposes, but I can’t this time. Also, no one other than you can read this.

From there, she told you that she was sure that she liked women, and that she was even more sure that her parents would be upset at her. She told you that she had been dwelling on it for a while, thinking about it and having it weigh heavily on her mind. She was all over the board with it, from her parents being upset to her being afraid that you were going to be opposed to it as well, or tell her that she was “too young to think that way”. She ended the letter by telling you that you were the first person that she had ever told.

You started your letter with your own confession, and Wanda Maximoff was the first one you ever told, too. You were past having your crisis, though, and you helped her through hers without a second of complaints. You always wished that you had someone to help you when you were down and questioning yourself, so you knew that you would be that for Wanda without hesitation.

You two grew together even more, and by the ninth grade, you both knew that there wasn’t going to be anything in the world that could stop your letters.

You came home one day after a long day and checked your mailbox out of habit, knowing that a letter wasn’t due for a few more days. But there it was, wrapped and sitting pretty for you. Your name was scrawled beautifully on the front in the handwriting that got better and better with every year, but you would recognize it anywhere. A smile grew onto your face as you walked to your front door, unlocking it and rushing inside to get to your desk. Of course, your name came first in the loopy letters.

I hope you’re doing alright! Things have been busy over here on my side of things, but never busy enough to not write you back. I just wondered, have been wondering for a while, really, if we were ever going to meet. We’ve been writing to each other for years, but I’ve never seen a picture of you. I know everything about you, but I’ve never met you. You are my best friend in the entire world, but I’ve never heard your voice. One day I would love to finally meet you. Would you be open to thinking about one of us flying out? Maybe after school is over for the both of us, we could make it happen. Number

It was much longer than that, but that was what caught your attention, more than her description of her busy week did. You read the letter three times. And then again. Your heart thumped in your chest as you tried to get a grip on yourself, irrational nervousness gripping your throat like an iron fist.

You knew the day was coming. You knew that it was. You two didn’t know what the other looked like at all, and neither of you had ever asked. Sometimes, you thought about it, but other times you found that it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she looked like because she was the best friend you had ever had, so you forgot about it. But that wasn’t what worried you.

The thought of meeting her nearly put you in cardiac arrest. You couldn’t meet her. What if you met and you two were totally bored of each other? What if how close you were on paper didn’t reflect at all in real life? What if you two found roadblocks in conversation that you never saw before? You didn’t want to meet her, not at all. You were terrified of it.

Because if you didn’t connect with Wanda on sight, then you doubted that you would ever be able to connect with anyone else. If you were wrong about Wanda being your person and her being yours, you would be crushed. If you figured out that the person who you gave your all for didn’t like you anymore after meeting you, you would die on the spot. You couldn’t afford to find it out.

You sat at your desk for an hour after reading her letter, smoothing your hand over the paper like you always did before you wrote your response. You knew what you needed to say, you just didn’t know how to say it.

What she had already written helped you, too. She was implying that they met up after graduation, which was still years away. You had time to hold off on it, to not talk about it for a while. You had some stall time in the bank, for sure. And you were going to use it.

§§§

You made the mistake of not putting the letter in your box.

Your mother came into your room, and she saw the letter. Your desk was typically off limits, so you were upset that she read it anyway, but what she said led all anger out of your body and made way for fear.

“You should totally go see your friend, sweetie!”

“What?”

“I’d pay for you to fly out,” your mom said. “I’d come with you, but I would pay for you to fly out and see your friend. You’ve been writing each other for three years now, and you’ve never seen each other. You guys should do it.”

“You’d fly me out to Sokovia?”

“You’re a great kid, of course I would.” You took the letter from her hands gently and put it in the box, and she gave you a look. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to meet her,” you admitted plainly, and then your mother gave you a look.

“She seems so excited to, after all these years. She’s such a sweet girl, what are you worried about?”

You couldn’t answer that. Your fears were your own, and they sounded ridiculous out loud. They made no sense to everyone else, and sometimes not even to you. Wanda Maximoff was nothing but sweet and kind and a good friend, and there you were, trying to blow her off because you were scared of a possible lack of face to face connection.

“Can we just drop it?”

And you did. In fact, all four of you did, until later.

§§§

By the end of your junior year, you were done for. Not because of tests or applications or any of that, it was because you realized that you were in deep for Wanda Maximoff.

It all made sense. The need to keep writing to her, the excitement you had felt getting a letter since sixth grade, the way you marveled over her penmanship and loved everything that she said and did. You were so in love with her, and it was irreversible. You were in love with her and what the two of you created together.

And you couldn’t lose that because of a bad meeting.

You avoided the topic of going there or Wanda coming to you, and you finally got each other’s numbers so that you could text on some international texting app, but primarily, it was still the heartfelt letters with the occasional heart stamps and constant string coming your way. And you wouldn't haven’t wanted anything different.

You sat at your desk on the last day of school as you wrote to her, writing about how you were about to watch some of your slightly older friends graduate in a few days. You also mentioned how you were excited to be a senior and get through your last year of high school just so that you could go and do whatever it was that you wanted to do, because you were only seventeen, and you didn’t know anything.

Sunshine,

I can’t wait to get out of high school. It’s not bad, just boring. I wish the people here were like you, and then maybe I could actually carry a conversation with them. Have you told your family yet? I told mine. My mom was… shocked to say the least, but she was fine with it. I think she might have suspicions about us writing to each other now, but who cares? I want to know if you’re alright.

How’s your new job going? I know you were excited to get one, so I hope it’s treating you well. It’s funny that you and Piet work across the mall from each other. I knew it was gonna be like that, even though you said it wouldn’t be! You two are inseparable, it’s so cute. Does he have any idea what he wants to do after we get out of school?

I kind of think that I want to start my own business. A flower shop, maybe. You know how I sort of have a green thumb. I think it would be good for me to own something. What do you think?

You wrote for about thirty minutes more, answering the questions she had asked you in a previous letter and signing your name at the bottom, a small smile on your face as you thought about her and her brother making food together like they always did.

You loved her. You really did.

§§§

It was in the middle of your senior year when you realized what the problem with her coming was. You had been keeping it so far in the back of your mind that you didn’t even realize that the alarms were blaring in the back of your head.

You knew that if you saw Wanda in person once that you would never be able to let her go. You would have to pick up and move to her country or she would come to yours, and it would kill your mother for you to move. So, that would mean that you would be asking for Wanda to leave her own family to be with you, and you couldn’t be selfish.

So, you would be selfish in a way that was also selfless by holding off on seeing her.

You hadn’t told her that you loved her, and you planned on never admitting it. You were sure she kind of knew, even just a little, but she never said anything. The way that you were holding onto the idea of her probably said enough for her to know. You just hoped that she knew that you were in love with her as a friend, at least. Wanda was the type who needed to know that they were loved, and she so was.

You loved her without even knowing what she looked like. You loved her without knowing whether she had a nasty habit or if she was a neat freak. You loved her without seeing her in a dress or in your favorite color or even looking into her eyes. You had never even heard her voice before, but that didn’t matter at all. You fell in love with her hand writing, then the way that she wrapped her letters, and then her words themselves. And then, you just were in love with Wanda Maximoff. All of her. All that you knew. And the things that you didn’t.

You thought about a confession letter for a long time. You were terrified of it, to say the least, because what if it backfired? What if she thought that you were only interested because she came out to you? What if she thought that you didn’t mean it at all?

Or worse, what if she just completely didn’t feel that way at all? What if the feeling she got when she wrote to you was nothing but platonic? That would be the biggest nightmare of all, and you had no idea how you were ever going to be able to pick up your fancy pen and put it to your special parchment after reading that.

By the time that you finally stopped wrestling with yourself about whether you were going to tell her that you were in love with her, you got a letter in the mail. A heart stamp was on the outside and it was tied with the string it always was, and the familiarity calmed your racing heart. You opened it gently, like you did with all of the letters you got, and then you saw her familiar scrawl.

How could someone’s handwriting feel like home?

Moonlight,

I would love to tell you about everything that’s been happening here, but I believe that it’s rather boring compared to what’s been bursting at the seams in my own mind. With every letter that I’ve ever written to you since we were thirteen, I’ve hesitated with my pen over telling you what I know has been true for years. I think that, finally, I know that I have something to say to you. I’ve always wanted to admit this to you, ever since the seventh grade.

I think that I fell in love with you, a long, long, time ago. I think that I know I did. I haven’t told you, and I never intended to tell you, because I was scared. I’m still scared here, as I write this letter, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.

Pietro already knows, but he knew before I even did. I’m sure it has something to do with us being so in sync, that he knew where my heart, love, and loyalties were before I even knew myself. I tell you everything, and something as monumental as falling in love with someone, I believe that you should know. But I couldn’t tell you. Not in the beginning, and apparently, not even after a year or two.

I’ve never seen you or heard your voice or held your hand, but I don’t need that to know that I truly have fallen in love with the person that you are. You are a beautiful person with the most gorgeous soul I have ever had the privilege of talking to, and I think that we have stumbled upon a connection that we may never see again, if you feel the same way.

If this made you uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. I’m sorry if this came on too strong, or too up front. I never want to make you upset.

It’s okay if you don’t want to carry on writing to me after this letter. I just thought that I needed to tell you after all this time. We never lie to each other, and I think that this lie to save me from possible embarrassment or losing the greatest friend I have ever had has expired. Thank you as always for reading, Moonlight.

Your Sunshine, Wanda.

Your jaw was slacked, and your mouth was open. Your heart was beating so quickly, but it wasn’t frantic. Your mind was going at a thousand miles a minute, but you were calm. You were supposed, but you weren’t. It simply felt… right. It felt like you had secretly been expecting it all along, like your soul had known the whole time, or maybe even like it had known that you felt the exact same way. It felt like you were receiving news that you had already heard about.

But that didn’t take away any from the pure elation that you felt. You set the letter down so that you didn’t accidentally wrinkle it, and then put your head in your hands to hide your smile and think, like they would help you any.

She loves me. Wanda loves me. And not in the way that friends loved each other, that’s not how she loved you. She felt what you had been feeling, a bond so strong that it could be felt on paper.

Your hands shook as you reread the letter. You scanned over it for a second time, a third time, and you were tearing up by the fifth, finally setting it down again and leaving it on your desk. It didn’t deserve the beautiful darkness of the box where it’s predecessors went, not yet. Probably not ever. You would have framed it in the moment, if you could have.

Part of you was glad that she admitted it first. You were going to, one day, maybe. But the worst part was the hypothetical wait for the letter to cross the pond. Whoever sent the confession letter would have to wait about two weeks for a response, and that felt like forever. You knew that just as much as she did, and she still took the chance to do it.

So, with the most fond and gentle smile on your face, you took out your special pen, wrote Sunshine as the entrance, and then professed your own love right back at her, trying as hard as you possibly could to make it as beautiful and raw for her as you felt on the inside, and as the one that she gave you. But, all you could think of were the first two sentences, but you knew that you were going to go for much longer than that.

Sunshine,

Oh, Wanda. How I wish we were both brave enough to do this earlier.

§§§

By the end of your senior year, you two were dancing around each other, taking it slow, as if you both hadn’t professed your love for each other. You kept writing your steady letters to each other, the same nicknames, the same doting words and pretty scratched across the paper with dark ink.

For the most part, nothing changed. But neither of you could deny the way that you wanted to see each other. And so, your time was up. You had to stop messing around.

The first time the two of you planned to see each other, it was supposed to happen over that summer break. It was supposed to be a nice experience for everyone, at a time that was actually pretty convenient.

And then, right during the week she was supposed to come, her aunt passed away, right in her sleep. It didn’t even come to your mind to think about rescheduling so fast, and that was the first time you had ever gotten an email from Wanda. She emailed you the morning that she found out, saying that she would rather send the first email than have you show up at the airport upset because you didn’t know she wasn’t coming. She was able to resell her ticket and you assured her that it was totally okay for her to not be coming, and you gave her condolences, as well. Wanda was very close to her family, and you knew that she felt that loss.

The next time the plans fell through, it was because you were going to surprise her. Your mom paid for your ticket, and you had finally grown out of your own mind and realized that it was going to be what it was regarding meeting Wanda. But, when you emailed her two nights before, spilling the beans because you didn’t want to just go to the airport without knowing how the hell to get around, you got a quick response. Turns out, she wasn’t anywhere near her house, or the airport. She was on a marine biology trip in some waters off the coast of Romania, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to write you all about it yet. You begrudgingly canceled the trip and told her that of course, it was alright. That night, your mom assured you that the two of you would just try again later.

But then life happened. You went off to culinary school, a last minute yet sure decision after Wanda had taught you that there was so much more to love about food other than the taste. She had your new address and you had hers, because she moved from Sokovia to Italy for her marine biology major. The letters came and went faster, with the smaller amount of mileage.

Long story short, neither of you had enough money to go and spend thousands on a trip, and not even one helping the other out or splitting the cost helped much. Wanda was getting increasingly nervous about whether it was ever going to happen, and though she never stated it directly, it was very obvious. You were getting there, too.

The thing that kept you going was the letters. The same as they had always been on her end and yours, they were the one constant in your life. Wherever you went, you knew that her letters would follow you, and that you would still write from your heart and send your own across the sea over to some place in Europe. You knew that as long as her letters were lengthy and detailed and that if she took the time to wrap them as gently as she had been, that you two were strong. And as long as you kept giving advice and writing her entire short stories about you week, she knew that you were still hers.

You would be hers until your heart stopped beating, and long after that. You were there for her for as long as she wanted you to be, and that was widely known.

§§§

It took four years for you to get back home and in a place where you could afford a ticket in or out. Wanda took a little longer, but that didn’t matter. It only gave you even more time to save and plan for when she came, and the date came.

You were both twenty two when you bought her the winning ticket. You were flying her out to Florida for a week and a half. The Keys, to be exact. You knew that she was going to love it and the beautiful waters that came with it, and it was away from the meddling eyes and mouths of your family, the ones who had been routing for you from afar (and in the beginning, behind your back). It was just going to be the two of you in a condo, and you knew that it was going to be heaven on earth.

Now, hell on earth was the anticipation of waiting at the airport. You had no idea what Wanda Maximoff looked like, partially because it didn’t matter while you two wrote, and also because you wanted to see her for the first time in person. You two had a flare for dramatic romantics, another reason that you two clicked so well.

You stood with a sign that you had made the night before with paint that you had mixed yourself into her favorite shade of red, a scarlet, almost pink color. You were in a sundress because it was sweltering outside, and you were almost nervous about how she would take the heat after being somewhere so cold all of her life. You were rocking back and forth on your feet without even noticing, and your stomach growling was the last of your worries. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking, but you willed them to stay still so that she could at least have a chance of reading it.

You were sure that you were about to pass out. It seemed like it had been millennia and a day all the same with her in your life. Everything that you had written each other was really about to come to life, after ten long years. You felt almost like it wasn’t real at all, like you were about to be woken up by your alarm back in your apartment over at your old school. But it was very, very real, and all the receipts and your racing heart advocated for the truth in it all.

The gates opened, and all of a sudden, people were lazily walking out, as one would do after a long flight. You were certain that the woman who was standing next to you could hear you start to slightly hyperventilate, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was Wanda.

A man came up from behind you and bumped you, and he said his apologies while you bent down to pick up the sign. Despite your nervousness, you stopped to tell him that it was okay, sign still face down on the floor. He grinned at you and then frowned when he looked up, causing you to mirror his expression.

Your name. It was clear as day, accented, close, and sounded like a sigh of relief and wonder floating in the wind. It came from a woman you didn’t know the voice of, and just like that, you remembered what you were doing. You left the sign on the floor, stood up, and turned around as fast as you could, eyes slightly wild as they soaked in everything about the woman standing in front of you.

Her hair was almost a cross between light brown and light red, even in the fake lights of the airport. She had light makeup on and she looked a little tired from the flight, but the look of elation on her face wiped it all away. Her pink lips were curved into an open mouthed smile, like she had forgotten the words while they were already halfway to her tongue. Your heart raced as you looked at her, and you didn’t even need to question who she was. Or who she was to you. You couldn’t look at anything but her face, the face you had been missing so achingly without ever seeing it before, the face that you knew was bound to give you comfort that you had never felt one in your life, until the end of your days. Her eyes were wide and a clear blue as they stared back at you, reflecting your exact expression, and you sensed that the two of you had already synced up and gotten on the same page, just like you had both predicted.

“O-oh my god,” you breathed out, just inches away from her. “Wanda!” You went in for an embrace at the same time, both of you somehow knowing which way to lean your head to avoid collision, and just where to put your arms. You fought shaking when you held her, your nerves completely shot at it finally happening. You were actually with Wanda, in an airport, hugging her like there was all the time to spend in the world. “Oh my god,” you repeated, and you felt her squeeze you a little closer to her. You could have cried in that moment.

“You,” she pulled back from you to take your face in her hands, her blue eyes scanning over your face like she was studying priceless art. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it was the way she looked when she watched the animals underwater. She shook her head slowly, eyes welling up with the thinnest layer of tears as her lips turned up into a smile. “You are beautiful.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked downwards, feeling yourself get hot at the bold and sincere compliment. You knew that anything more than about three words was going to smoke you stutter “Wanda, have you seen yourself?” She laughed, a soft sound that you had imagined hearing so many times that you almost thought you had made it up, until you saw the upturn of her mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

“I’m- I can’t believe I’m actually here,” Wanda breathed out, and you felt the same exact way. How had you pulled it off? After nearly a decade of pining that was mutual and writing to each other about every little detail in your lives, she was finally right in front of you, where you could see her and touch her.

“How’d you know it was me?” You asked after a second of grappling for something to say. “I didn’t have my sign up when you came.”

The smile that was on her face went from being flat out joyful to content, almost peaceful. It rubbed off on you immediately as you leaned back into her touch, ignoring all of the people bustling around in the busy airport. “I just knew that it was you.”

§§§

For the entirety of the day Wanda arrived, all the two of you did was stare at each other and hold onto each other, like you were both equally terrified that the gods were going to come down from wherever they resided to split you up again. There was hardly even any talking when you arrived at the condo, and it felt natural. The two of you had already spoken so much, and now you needed to catch up on just seeing her. You’ve seen her soul, her mind, her heart, and now you were seeing her face. It felt like you had always known it.

But you were the first one to speak as you held hands on the deck, her thumb drawing subconscious hearts on the back of your palm. “You have a way with words, sunshine.” The name contrasted to the sky, which was dark but illuminated with an almost full moon and stars. The city was mostly behind you, so the natural light was what you got. It was all that you needed.

You felt her content fade into joy. “Really?”

You knew that she was nervous about her English, but to you, it was perfect. From her accent to the way that she sometimes missed connotations that were specific to the language to the idioms that accidentally slipped into your letters, you loved it. “Mhm,” you hummed, leaning your head on her shoulder. “And I never would have imagined that you sounded so… sweet.”

“Sweet?” She parroted, and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Somehow, you knew that she could feel it, in some strange way. “Can I ask you something?” The answer was yes. It was yes, and it always would be yes. So, you said that. She cleared her throat, a quiet sound that you stored in your memory to keep, simply because she made it. “Did you… did you mean what you wrote?”

You were stumped. There had to be hundreds of letters between the two of you, and thousands upon thousands of topics. But you couldn’t question yourself for long, because then you knew exactly what she was talking about.

Did you truly love Wanda? The question came up a few times between you and your mother when you were in your first year of culinary school. Were you in love with Wanda Maximoff, or were you in love with the idea of Wanda and the mystery she brought? The question had been brought up, many times by your mother, who was only just making sure that you were being smart, and the answer never once varied. Yes. You loved Wanda Maximoff with every breath you took, every stroke of your pen, every glance at her pretty script. You knew that Wanda was it for you, and seeing her only solidified it. The way your hand fit together like they were the missing parts of a lost artifact made it concrete. The way she gave you everything back and the way you did the same told you everything you needed to know.

You leaned off of her shoulder and turned to face her, a soft smile on your face as the moon came out from behind the singular patch of clouds in the night, illuminating her features. You saw her face and her spirit through brand new eyes, and it was wonderful. It was all you could ever ask for. “Wanda,” you started, your voice quiet enough to not disturb the moment, and the sound of waves crashing not too far away. “I’ve loved you since I knew what love was, and I have been in love with you for as long as I knew what the difference between the two really was. Everything that I have ever sent to you, every word, I meant it all. And I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.”

She was staring at you blankly, with only a bit of something lingering in her gaze. Then, as soft as a breeze, she was muttering something under her breath in her mother tongue and putting her hand on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You ignored the way that your heart surged in your chest. The moon was still out and bright, shining down on the two of you like you had paid for it to be a spotlight. “You never have to ask,” you said, and then, as fluidly and gently as humanly possible, she tilted her head and leaned forward, and you met her halfway.

§§

You had never been scuba diving before, but Wanda was in her element. She helped you suit up after she told the instructor that she was certified, and then rolled her eyes playfully when he checked behind her work. You cracked a smile. The entire time he was instructing, she was nearly bursting at the seams to get into the water, and the second he said that the two of you were allowed to go, she was holding your hand and asking if you were ready.

You never thought that Wanda could look more beautiful than she already had, but in and near the water, she was something else. She was in a state of grace and peace all the same, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be so tranquil, for the rest of her life. All you wanted in return was to be privileged to see it.

The gods that made you fear a bad trip were actually on your side, because Wanda excitedly pointed out a group of migrating sea turtles, not even paying either of you any mind at all, carrying about through nature. You smiled at them and at her, unable to decide which one was going to be the apple of your eye at the moment. You chose her.

§§§

You got out of the shower, your skin still slightly damp and the air humid from the heat of the water. You smiled at Wanda when you caught her looking at you, giving you that same blank stare that she had the first night the two of you got there. You stopped in your tracks, giving her the encouraging look that you knew she needed. “You okay, Wands?”

“I love you.”

Your breath hitched. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and you both knew it. The weight of the words and the confession felt so true, so genuine, that it went straight to your heart and made it swell with warmth. A small yet generous smile stretched onto your face as you felt everything fall into place. “I love you, Wands.”

“More than I’ve ever loved anything,” she continued, like she hadn’t even heard you, and you looked back at her with a doting expression. “And, I’ve been holding off because I don’t know how to say that,” she paused, and then she fell into deep thought.

You took a step closer, assuming that the small language barrier had come up. When it took her more than a few seconds and you saw the little scrunch of confusion between her brows appear, you spoke up. “There’s no rush,” you said gently.

“If other people were to look at us, they would say that we have only known each other for three days,” she said, and you nodded. “But, I feel that we’ve known each other for thousands of years. I feel that we were made to meet, and that we were always going to no matter what came up. Why else would we both be so focused on talking to each other? I have always seen you as someone special to me, always, but now that we have finally seen each other face to face, I think that my… heart is recognizing you as it’s other part.”

You had no words in your mind at that moment, because they were all in your heart. You couldn’t open your mouth to convey the pure shock and relief that you felt at her admitting something that you had been feeling the whole time. You swallowed and felt your eyes burn with tears, but before they could fall past your cheeks, Wanda stood up and wiped them from your face before pulling you close.

Nothing mattered. Not the fact that you were still wet and she was in her pajamas, not the fact that you were in a towel, not the fact that the pizza man was knocking at the door. It was you and her, like it always had been in your mind, and Wanda’s too.

You were it for her, and she was it for you. And while you hugged it out in that beautiful condo in Florida, you silently thanked your sixth grade English teacher for making you write to a random girl your age all the way across the Atlantic, and you thanked Wanda for being the one who wrote her way right into your life.

so. uh! hiiii! i hope y’all liked it! i loved writing it, even though she was a lil bit of a challenge, not gonna lie. feedback is always appreciated!!

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfic #wanda fluff #scarlet witch #marvel au #wanda maximoff fluff #lgbtq #lesbian!wanda

830 notes · View notes

gay-otlc · 3 years ago

Text

Keepers Of The Chaos (3)

Summary: Tam, Linh, Dex, Keefe, Biana, and Fitz are part of the tiny fandom for Keeper of the Chaos, and Tam and Linh’s podcast convinces some of their other friends to watch it as well. The group finds themselves strangely invested in this show, where students at Tumblr High School who work together to write about an elf named Sophia, cause incomprehensible chaos, and fight their rival Pinterest High School.

Content warnings: Cursing, religion (Jewish Vackers), and Amsterdam (just in case, I know that was stressful for some people).

Word count: 1621

Notes: Most of the episodes are just events stolen from Lynn's roundup, Dex's memes are here

(Read on AO3)

The life of an amateur meme maker on dumbles dot com was a strange one, that was for sure. After finishing xyr favorite show- Ze-Ra: Monaerchs of Powhir- for the third time, Dex had searched for another show to fill the void in xyr soul. Biana recommended this show called "Keepers of the Chaos" and described it to xem. Xe was doubtful at first, but after watching the first episode, xe was hooked.

Xe used to not have many friends at xyr school, so xe did what every neurodivergent queer teen would do- made an account on dumbles dot com. People seemed to like xem- or at least, they liked dizznee-plus's memes and edits of Ze-Ra characters. Even after Dex befriended xyr squish, Fitz, thons sister, Biana, and aer girlfriend, Sophie, xe continued making content on dumbles. Around that time, the Ze-Ra fandom started dying off, and xyr memes started getting fewer note

In a sudden, two am burst of inspiration, Dex made edits of some of xyr favorite characters, like Ref, Akki, and Rose, with their respective pride flags (all of them bi) over them, and captioned it "we must be gay." The post blew up, or at least, what could be considered blowing up in Keeper of the Chaos's tiny fandom, and that was how Dex found xyr calling as an amateur meme/edit maker for KOTC.

History had been repeating itself, with the KOTC fandom starting to die off, until it was revived by an announcement from creator Saturn Nolastname- a season two would be released soon. Frantically, Dex made a meme about season one episode two, with the car salesman meme. Xe edited "chaos keepers" onto the car salesman, "the rarelynoticed" on the car, and "this bad boy can fit so many stripper outfits into it."

That had been... an interesting episode, to say the least. The chaos keepers had been talking about the antagonists of "Sophie and the Dark Duck"- a rebel group called the Rarelynoticed. In the information packet they'd been given, it was confirmed that the Rarelynoticed wore black cloaks and armbands, but no other clothes had been mentioned. Somehow, the chaos keepers came to the conclusion that the Rarelynoticed really wore neon pink leotards and green stripper heels, then drew this idea.

Needless to say, the Tumblr staff did not let them write that into the book. Nor did Lynn, the unofficially chosen leader of the group. Unfortunately for her, this didn't stop the chaos keepers from drawing more of these- or the fandom from making a ton of memes. In addition to the car salesman meme, a post with Drake saying no to "wearing normal fucking villain outfits" and yes to "leotards and stripper heels" gained popularity within the small fandom.

Though nothing could match the absolute shock of seeing the Rarelynoticed stripper outfit for the first time, Dex decided to rewatch the episode anyway- it was funny to see the chaos keepers freak out, and maybe xe could get some good screen captures. The good Saturn Nolastname indulged xem, and xe captured an excellent scene of most of the chaos keepers either laughing or screaming at the Rarelynoticed stripper outfits, with Kimber- one of xyr favorites- sitting on the side, explaining to Juno and Kaitee why Bianca Cracker was bisexual.

Xe went over to dumbles, posted the picture, added an image description, and captioned it "Live photo of me not caring when my friends talk about sex/romance." Xe chuckled to xemself- this really was how it felt to be aroace. Xe tagged it as aromantic and asexual as well, since dumbles added flag colors. Smiling, xe went to go check xyr notifications.

Xyr jaw dropped when xe saw that @lordofthesnuggles- Fitzroy (Dex didn't know thons middle name) Vacker thonself had liked and reblogged all three of xyr memes, even adding compliments in the tags! Xe'd had a bit of a platonic crush on Fitz for... a really long time, but xe always felt too awkward to talk to thon, so it was nice to see that thon appreciated xyr humor.

Feeling energized- and excited to procrastinate on xyr math homework- Dex went to watch the next episode: Dark Duck Is Jewish Now. Being Jewish xemself, this was a really funny episode to xem.

Lynn had been writing a sort of spinoff- it would be called fanfiction, but it was for her own story- about some of the Dark Duck characters celebrating Christmas, and added a throwaway line about Bianca and Finn Cracker celebrating Hanukkah. Then, her fiance, Shai, had taken that idea and run with it, writing a list of ideas about what would happen if the Cracker family was Jewish. Hir friend Sam had jumped on the idea, and soon they had abandoned writing the actual Dark Duck in favor of writing a story about Jewish Dark Duck characters. Some of the other Jewish chaos keepers, like Ref and Cat, helped out.

To be honest, it kind of surprised Dex that no one had made a joke about the Jewish Crackers just being matzah, so xe supposed xe would have to be the first.

Xe posted that observation, quickly getting a like from Fitz- which made xem smile. After a few minutes, Dex posted another meme: Shai and Sam standing in front of a door with a sign that read "elves don't have religion," and them saying "This sign won't stop me, because I can't read!"

It was accurate.

While that episode was great for Jewish representation, and funny, the Banana Noir episode was just plain weird.

It focused less on the Dark Duck than most of the other episodes, and was more about the crazy interactions of the chaos keepers. The episode was named for Banana Noir, who was really Cat Noir, but in a banana suit. Banana Noir was the son of Mellie, who looked like a shark, and Nora, who had platonically married faer. The mothers tried to arrange a marriage between him and Akki, who loved the side characters of the Dark Duck series. However, Akki wanted to marry Amelia. After a lot of shit that basically no one understood, Banana Noir's attempts were thwarted, and Lynn officiated the wedding between Akki and Amelia.

Yeah, Dex had no idea what the fuck was going on either. Xe'd watched an episode of Twins of the Chaos and a youtube video by arsonpog analyzing the Banana Noir chronicles, as it had been dubbed by the chaos keepers, and both expert opinions seemed to agree that Saturn Nolastname and the rest of the writers had probably been on crack when they made that episode.

The next episode made slightly more sense, though it was a low bar. After taking a break from the "official" Dark Duck story, the chaos keepers began collectively writing a Cinderella story about the characters Sophia and Bianca. People weren't allowed to be queer in the official story, but the chaos keepers still wanted to have fun with their obviously gay characters.

Even to the viewers of the show, who only received secondhand information about the Dark Duck characters, knew there was no way any of them, let alone all of them, were allocishet. The exact identities weren't entirely clear- when Dex had made edits of the characters' official art and xyr headcanons for their pride flags, a few people had disagreed- but both the chaos keepers and the fandom knew that despite what Shannon said, Sophia and Bianca were in love, and their Cinderella story should have made it in to the official Dark Duck story.

While excerpts of the Cinderella story were quoted in the show, most of it was left unclear, so Biana had taken it upon aerself to write aer own version of it. Dex was expecting an update later that day, actually, or maybe the next. Ae wasn't always 100% reliable with aer update schedule. Still, Dex looked forward to when it eventually did come.

After the brief calmness from the Sophianca Cinderella episode, season one episode six, Amsterdam, exploded back into chaos. A few of the chaos keepers decided to discuss a fake scene in the book in which crazy shit went down, with the scene supposedly being located in Amsterdam. It had never been written and was never going to be, but everyone discussed it like it was real. Some of the highlights involved all the Dark Duck girls having swords (and the chaos keepers being gay for them), and a speedboat chase scene through the canals. Fitz had a popular theory that the chaos keepers would actually travel to Amsterdam in order to commemorate this crazy part of their lives. Almost as popular as that was a meme Dex made, with a man labeled "chaos keepers discussing amsterdam" and gesturing feverishly to a wall covered in papers and red string.

Of course, episode seven (Dark Duck Disney) was chaotic too. Everything was chaotic with this group, it was in the title. Shannon announced that the winning Dark Duck story would be adapted into a Disney movie. After past experience with terrible book to movie adaptations, the chaos keepers panicked. They panicked so much that it became major news within their school, which until then, had been largely ignoring the chaos keepers. Once the discussion about the movie settled down, they talked a lot about how in awe they were that their Dark Duck shenanigans were trending within the school.

But of course, none of that compared to the last episode of the season...

Dex changed xyr profile picture to include an ominous pair of teal eyes and sighed.

#tumblr kotlc fandom fandom #keepers of the chaos #shai types things #shai's writing #hehe like the ze-ra reference

31 notes · View notes

oceanselevenism · 4 years ago

Note

If you're still doing them maybe number 12 with both the ocean's siblings and their partners?

hell yeah!! i’ve put it under the cut :)) it is Very Tangentially holiday-sweater-related but it is too long to not post now! hope you enjoy, and happy holidays :))

It’s the first Christmas they’ve spent together in... nearly a decade and a half, actually. The years had flown by, blurring into a mess of run-ins and arguments and you stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, but hey, Danny can’t fault his sister for wanting to make up for lost time. No, he can’t fault her (after all, if she had been the one to fake her death, he’d probably have moved into her house for a week, just to make sure she didn’t do it again) but he can make fun of her, so that’s what he does. “Aw, you really did miss me,” he says when she gives him and Rusty perfunctory hugs on her way into his house (Lou just claps them both on the shoulder, and he’s not sure whether to feel snubbed or relieved). “I can’t believe my dear sister actually cares,” he tells her when she brings him a mug of cocoa, ingredients nabbed from some billionaire in Germany. “Pure family bonding for the whole family,” he remarks when she goes off on a drunken, expletive-filled tangent about the Met Gala’s security over a game of poker (they’ve given up on trying to enforce the no-cheating rule, and he’s pretty sure Lou takes the opportunity to peek at Debbie’s cards). But in all honesty, he can’t keep up the ribbing; it really is good to see her, even if she definitely gets along better with Rusty (she’s told him as much, and right to his face, too) and the third day ends in a bitter, wine-fueled not-argument about their mother and their father and they themselves. But on the fourth morning Danny gets up early (it’s five in the goddamn morning, why the fuck has Lou already left a note on the counter saying gone on a run) to make latkes, and when Debbie comes downstairs she scoops out a dollop of his favorite sour cream instead of her usual applesauce, so unless her latke preferences have done a complete 180 since the last time he’s seen her, they’ve forgiven each other.

She and Lou volunteer to go on a grocery run that evening, and Danny’s glad; he hasn’t had the chance to jump Rusty’s bones in, like, five days (turns out cleaning up for houseguests takes up way more time than anticipated) (hey, the only people they’ve had over in years have been the crew from the Benedict job, and he’s heard Reuben threaten to shit on Turk’s feet, they don’t need to clean up for them). And for a minute, as Rusty pins him up next to the to-be-composted bag that is currently overflowing with potato scraps, the only thought in his head is the usual why didn’t we do this sooner. But then Rusty pulls back-- “Rus,” Danny complains-- and he tilts his head in that We Need To Talk manner. Which would be hot, if not for the fact that Rusty probably wants to talk about Debbie.

“You’re good, right?”

“We were never on bad terms.”

“Liar.”

“Well, hostile terms, maybe,” Danny amends. “But never bad.”

Rusty shifts, adjusting his forearms so it’s more like they’re just two good pals having a conversation three inches from each others’ faces instead of two good pals about to do very unsanitary things in a kitchen, and says, “I think you’re putting too much water under the bridge.”

“What am I, a Dutch engineer?”

“You’re very funny.”

“I know I am. Now, are we gonna--”

The door opens. Danny swears. “We were gone for twenty minutes,” Debbie says. “Are you that desperate?” Danny regrets going for the open-concept first floor, and he regrets it even more as Rusty pushes himself off with an air of utmost nonchalance.

“Here,” Lou says, lobbing a ball of fabric at Rusty. Her aim is remarkable, and Danny almost asks if she ever played softball before deciding he likes his well-being more than teasing his sister’s motorcycle-riding, brass-knuckle-owning girlfriend. It’s fine; next to him, Rusty huffs an amused laugh at the unsaid comment anyway. “Happy Christmas Eve.”

Rusty unfolds the fabric to reveal a truly hideous (and possibly offensive) Christmas sweater. It’s got red sleeves, a green torso, and a large, colorful fruitcake emblazoned on the stomach. Above it, in red and yellow, is text that reads FRUIT CAKE. “I love it,” Rusty says, pressing his lips together in that way that says he’s trying his damndest not to laugh. “It’s perfect.”

Lou opens her coat to reveal her own sweater, hers saying Ho Ho Homo. “I thought the theme was appropriate.”

“And for you, dearest brother,” Debbie says, pulling an atrociously-colored wad of wool out of a paper bag and chucking it at him, “you get the best of both worlds.”

With a mounting sense of horror, he recalls the year that he insisted on putting teal and orange streamers across the house, because it’s Hanukkah and Christmas mixed! That was the last year their parents had lived in the same house; Danny used to joke that it had been the final nail in the coffin for their mother. He pinches an edge of the cloth between two fingers and lets the rest fall open. It’s a Miami Dolphins holiday sweater. A teal-and-orange, festively-patterned Miami Dolphins sweater. Oh, his Boston-bred father would be frothing at the mouth. “We’re in Canada,” Danny says, equal parts shocked and awed. “How the hell did you get this here so quick? We were supposed to be meeting in Quebec until three days ago--”

“Danny, please learn what priority shipping is,” Debbie says. “Now c’mon. Wear it.”

There’s no way he can back out of this. If he refuses, she’ll just play the I thought you were dead card. He’s never regretted a decision more.

He puts on the sweater. Rusty-- his partner, his right hand, the love of his life-- wolf-whistles.

“I’m divorcing you,” Danny announces.

“Don’t worry,” Lou says with a grin, and is that her phone oh fuck she’s got a picture-- “Debbie, take off your coat.”

With the air of someone who has suffered the weight of the world, Debbie shrugs off her jacket. She’s wearing a matching sweater, and the dolphin on this one has a lovingly-embroidered smiling mouth stitched into it. Danny tries very, very hard not to laugh. “Shut it,” Debbie warns him.

“Oh, I’m not saying a thing,” Danny replies.

“We actually did get groceries,” Lou says, turning back to the door, “so--”

“Lemme give you a hand,” Rusty says. “Let these two bask in the joy of their new sweaters.”

“Fuck off,” Danny and Debbie say in unison. Rusty grins, cheery as ever, and leaves Danny’s side to follow Lou out the door.

“Great gift,” Danny says. “I’ll be laughed at by Reuben for the rest of my days.”

Debbie snorts, walking into the kitchen and rooting around in his cabinets. “Well, actually he’d-- wait, please tell me you didn’t, like, have gross old people se--”

“Shut up, Deborah,” Danny replies, feeling his neck heat up. “I’m only two years older than you. And no.” He refrains from adding on a “not this time.”

“Thank God,” Debbie says, pulling a glass out of the cupboard. “Anyway. Reuben’s not gonna laugh at you, he’s just gonna talk about your embarrassing baby stories in whatever groupchat you people have.”

Danny wonders how his baby sister got to be cooler than him. It’s very distressing. “That’s worse.”

“Yep,” she says, putting the pitcher down and picking her now-full glass up. She leans on the wall across from him, sipping her water, and narrows her eyes at him. “Are we, y’know... good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Danny says. Besides the thirty years of vaguely pretending the other didn’t exist.

“I’m not gonna answer that,” Debbie says. “But... I’d just like to make sure. ‘Cause you’re the only not-completely-insufferable blood relation I have.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment; Danny picks at a loose teal thread, trying to think of how best to phrase the thoughts rattling around in his head. “I don’t hate you,” he finally says. “And I don’t dislike you, either. You’re a pretty good sister. And a great thief.”

“I know,” she replies. “I’m not gonna say it back, ‘cause then you’re gonna get an inflated ego.”

“Works for me,” Danny says, grinning a little.

“I guess it’s just... I mean, I let all the old resentment get in the way of, y’know. Having a decent relationship, personally or professionally.”

Danny nods. He’s still got the scar from the time they both went after the Ruby of the Isle; he’d won, but just barely, and only because he had Rusty and she hadn’t found Lou. But at the end of the day, neither of them have tried to kill the other, and they still did grow up together, playing in Atlantic City casinos and building sand castles under the boardwalk. “I think we’re too old for that now.”

“You’re the old one here,” Debbie replies, no bite in the remark.

“Only two years,” he reminds her. “But I did the same thing as you, letting petty grudges get in the way of family, and for that I’m sorry.”

“I am, too.”

“Thanks, Debs.” He frowns. “They’re taking a really long time to get the groceries, aren’t they?”

As if summoned, the door opens, and Rusty and Lou, each with a measly two bags in their hands, walk in. And Rusty has his phone in his hands. “Rus, I swear--”

“Too late,” Rusty grins, as the shutter sound rings out through the living room. “That outfit has already been immortalized.”

“Have I already said I’m divorcing you? I’m divorcing you.”

“Does it count as fratricide if he’s your brother-in-law?” Debbie asks.

“Disproportionate reactions,” Rusty accuses. “Besides, I’ve already sent it to Linus.”

Danny’s eyes widen. “Not Linus.”

“You heard me.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s a text from Linus Caldwell himself, consisting of a single thumbs-up emoji and two grinning cats. “You’re all terrible people. Terrible, terrible people.”

(the sweater rusty is wearing is real) (as is lou’s) (and the ocean siblings’)

#oceans 11 #oceans 8 #danny ocean #debbie ocean #rusty ryan #danny x rusty #debbie x lou #lou miller #my writing

35 notes · View notes

cattles-bians · 4 years ago

Text

the damie vibecca exes au part 7

post directory

obsetress: i just. started thinking about little spoon viola and got

obsetress: rly emotional

em: yeah.....

obsetress: and then i thought

obsetress: yeah ok rebecca big spoon viola little spoon but then i was like

obsetress: dani big spoon viola little spoon

em: YEAH BABY

obsetress: and then i really hurt myself

obsetress: esp bc dani is canonically a big spoon

em: i’m tryna remember how tall bexs is but i cannot place it alas

em: dani canon big spoon

em: well! now i’m thinking abt it and now I’m emo

obsetress: google says tahirah is 5'4 so same more or less

obsetress: viola n her shorties

em: viola is nothing if not consistent

em: loves a routine

obsetress: another thing for her and jamie to bond over

obsetress: routine

obsetress: and dating the same women

obsetress: no literally the same women

em: jamies like um. before they leave for a trip jamie packs everything up and sits on the couch for 15 minutes to see if she’s forgotten anything

em: otherwise if danis checking everything they will get 30 minutes down the road and realise they forgot pants

em: dani can also be a little bit of a disaster as a treat

obsetress: as a treat!

em: it’s not her fault! she’s got a lot on her plate

obsetress: dani clayton: will remember the strap but forget their toothbrushes

obsetress: every time

em: bsgskdhdjdhdjgdksdjdhkdgdkshsjdhsjeg

em: dani: yeah but.. in my defence... you can buy toothbrushes everywhere... jamie: no but i really like those bristles

obsetress: jamie: spent two months wearin em down

obsetress: dani: you brush too hard anyway, jamie, really, just

em: breaking them in like boots

em: dani clenched fist clayton talking abt brushing teeth too intensely

em: i love them. i love these idiots

obsetress: god right

obsetress: they're Perfect

obsetress: you know who else is perfect

obsetress: dani big spoon clayton holding viola while she cries herself to sleep because the judge changed their custody agreement and now arthur's getting isabel on christmas day and and whispering in her ear that it's going to be okay and pressing soft kisses to the back of her neck and shoulders and––

obsetress: deranged. absolutely deranged

em: hannah

em: like it’s v good and emotionally rich and a big brain concept but i despise u for putting it out in the world

obsetress: i despite myself

obsetress: anyway um

obsetress: dani and viola do christmas together that year because it's not like dani has anyone either

obsetress: and then, y'know, viola's alone again (rip) and sits in her big apartment and drinks martinis and orders catered duck or some shit and watches it's a wonderful life and cries

obsetress: but then

obsetress: christmas miracle time something something all forces yield to time and a couple years later

obsetress: there's a new christmas tradition and dani and jamie and vi n becca all spend christmas together

em: ahhhhh i love that

em: my one quiet headcanon is. jewish dani so i flipflop between ‘dani alone on christmas angst potential found family aw nice’ vs like ‘dani wasn’t really doing anything anyway but it’s nice doing things w people u love :)

obsetress: oh i love that

em: anyway viola drinking alone on christmas and dani rocks up w a birthday cake that says happy birthday **jesus

em: & she’s like sorry i couldn’t uh. find any fruit cake lmao

obsetress: god yeah that's perf

obsetress: dani's like "i know it's not, uh, the same for... for a lot of reasons, but... i could... spend it with you? if you want?"

em: love that love viola and dani watching old movies on christmas

obsetress: dani's like "i don't know christmas, but i know judy garland"

em: maybe there’s a little absolute shit talking abt arthur but dani manages to steer it back when it gets Too heavy

em: knows when to push and when to lay off etc

obsetress: she's so good

em: also OT4 christmas parties sound absolutely bananas

obsetress: god yeah like

em: they’re ALL the lesbian aunts that down a bottle of vodka and ruin christmas lunch

obsetress: ok they get together for the last night of hanukkah to all celebrate with dani but it's usually very chill but then over christmas they just go apeshitt

obsetress: YEAH

obsetress: like

obsetress: viola's making her and bex heavy handed martinis and then dani and jamie are going ham on the eggnog

em: jamie goes nuts for hanukkah she’s like ur telling me there’s a holiday dedicated to fried food

em: count me in

obsetress: she's over the stove making latkes for dani every night she's so excited

obsetress: even tho she burns them 99% of the time

em: beautiful beautiful jamie

em: i’ve never tried eggnog

em: kinda want to try it but the idea of raw egg texture freaks me out

em: vegan eggnog

obsetress: v fair

obsetress: ngl i almost said, dani and jamie drunk on oat milk eggnog

em: love that

em: i am constantly flipping between trendy health food vegan lesbians dani and jamie vs like. well. the brits are well known for eating various grey meats

em: dani makes jamie do meat free mondays

obsetress: dani like

obsetress: ok jamie likes her grey meat too much

obsetress: dani is a midwestern boomer beef is basically a food group for her but

obsetress: although i guess they're not boomers in this au

obsetress: still midwestern still likes meat but

obsetress: she reads a lot of articles

obsetress: and she's very insistent about making meatless monday a regular staple of our week, jamie

em: like spiritually dani and jamie are the old soul boomers to the terrifying vibecca power lesbians

obsetress: so true

obsetress: but yeah midwesterners. eat a lot of meat

obsetress: esp the part of the midwest dani's from, it's all farmland basically

em: dani: we can try out new recipes jamie :) it’ll be fun :)

jamie: (british grumbling) cooking’s hard enough when i know what i’m cooking

dani: well. it is harder to get food poisoning from an undercooked vegetable

em: jamies like how was i supposed to know the sushi had been in the sun. it was an accident

em: what’s another midwestern staple i wanna know abt hmmmm

em: oh yeah what the fuck is puppy chow. like it’s in BHAH and i know google is right there but i kinda want to confirm it: even exists

obsetress: oh my GOD

obsetress: i ALSO have a dani clayton puppy chow hc i

obsetress: classic comedy of errors she loves it a lot and is always talking about it and jamie thinks it's actual dog food and then dani makes it one day and

obsetress: jamie sweet tooth taylor eats it all in one sitting

em: jamie sweet tooth taylor never had a chance

#if this ones a bit all over the place its bc i try v hard to edit around like #personal info and our severe tangents #featuring my world famous jewish dani headcanon asjhdgsfnsdf #the dani jamie viola rebecca exes au

9 notes · View notes

yvesdot · 4 years ago

Text

My Purim post has blown up! Thank you so much for making my dream of being a Purim evangelist (?!) come true. And here are some replies to the replies to the post! Since we can’t do this like normal people anymore.

Firstly, a general thank you to the outpouring of positivity. Thank you to the non-Jews who have helped spread some cultural information, and thank you to the Jews who made me feel less alone celebrating Purim this year. And thank you to those expressing excitement that their favorite (Christian) Biblical heroine had a (Jewish) holiday! That was very sweet.

And now the distinct questions!

Many people asked in tags: What’s the appropriate greeting?

“Happy Purim” does just fine! In Hebrew we might say “Purim sameach” because it means the same thing.

@captainqueeg, who is tragically untaggable, replied:

This is not the first time this week I’ve heard a ‘you should start celebrating purim’, can I ask, who is that directed at? I’ve never met a Jewish person who doesn’t know about Purim. Do you mean non Jews should take it up?

This is a great question!

Firstly, I have heard of Jewish people who do not know about Purim. Tragic, but it happens. This is usually the case for Jews who have less “Jewish education” or something like that; while general culture knows about Hanukkah, Purim’s relative lack of popularity means some Jews without access to specific Jewish education never do discover it. And that is tragic.

With regards to non-Jews: I would find it quite odd to celebrate it alone, yes. I have taken non-Jewish friends to Purim parties, though! And it was a fantastic time ^__^ I’d really like non-Jews simply to know about the holiday, and it would be very very cool to run into a non-Jewish person who knew what I was talking about when I talked about Esther. Of course, nobody has to; it’s just nice to have awareness when you talk about your culture. So my primary goal here was to spread knowledge; thanks for asking for clarification.

In addition to that, many Christians in my notes were excited to hear that a favorite Biblical heroine had a holiday! My primary goal was to spread the word.

I noticed a couple people had this concern, which was interesting, because I’ve never really run into this IRL in any capacity. I suppose I don’t find it as much an issue because I’ve never seen it be one. We have enough to worry about ;^^

@kubaneh replied:

mordechai was esther's cousin :)

YES you are absolutely correct; my apologies. I noticed this in my translation/commentary the day of, but not the night of Purim. I was certain I’d get something wrong, and if it was this, I can live.

Someone who will not be named because I blocked them replied:

By all means, get in on the fun if you're Jewish, in the conversion process, or invited to by a Jew. Judaism is a closed practice. And, beware of Chabad. My Jewish Learning is far more objective and inclusive!

Honestly baffled as well by OP's choice as a Jewish person to use an image with an inhumane skin color, red eyes, and pointed ears. So many antisemitic tropes!

To address the first concern: you can see what I’ve said above re: non-Jews celebrating Purim.

To address the second: Chabad was the first site which came to mind to read the Megillah on, particularly with regards to simple navigation and commentary. A friend helpfully noted Sefaria, and I’m happy to provide that link as well. I find MJL extremely helpful when looking up questions of law across sects; Chabad is where I go for full Jewish texts. I don’t agree with everything posted on Chabad!

To address the third: This is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I wish you the absolute best.

#For concerned non-Jews: when I read this last I was so surprised I said out loud 'where are you getting your antisemitic stereotypes???'#Essentially none of these are actual antisemitic stereotypes. Don't be concerned.#txt

5 notes · View notes

wild-aloof-rebel · 5 years ago

Note

Been thinking about the timeline... I know oKAY I KNOW... but listen isn’t it possible it has been three years? Maybe each season is 6 months long. In that case, Patrick comes into the picture about 1 year and 3 months into it. So that would almost make David/Patrick comments about “2 years” kinda make sense because by season 6 they’d have been together like a year and a half plus so maybe they’re rounding? Okay okay I know I’m wrong but I just want to to make sense!!!

honestly, running with about 6 months per season does probably work the best in a very general sense. but ultimately there are some things that support that and some that don’t, which is pretty much true of every way you try to look at the timeline.

i’m pretty sure we can at least accept that the first two seasons take place over about a year. (a year ago we had a staff of 25… / ronnie says you’ve only lived here a year / are you complaining about the quality of the free lodging i’ve arranged for you this past year? / this is the first real money we’ve seen in a year.) there’s not a whole lot within those two seasons to contradict that, so we can run with that.

johnny says in murder mystery it’s been 3 years since he played a round of golf, but okay, maybe he hadn’t played in a while even before they lost their money. i’ll let that one slide.

another point in your favor is ronnie telling moira in stop saying lice! that she still has 3 ½ more years on council. it’s been about a season since she was elected to her 4 year term then, so that pans out.

but then moira says in dead guy in room 4 that she’s endured a cornucopia of trauma the last few years, which……. is definitely a stretch if we’re looking at about a year and a half there.

david says in girls’ night that it’s been a year since ted and alexis split, which works in your favor as well.

but then just 8 episodes later, ted tells alexis he’s thought about kissing her every day for the last two years. maybe he’s rounding up, but i definitely don’t like it lol.

in that same vein, joan says in sebastien raine that she’s been trying to set ted up with her granddaughter for 2 years, but it’s pointless because she’s not alexis, which implies that ted and alexis have been split for 2 years at that point. however, their split had happened not quite 2 seasons ago by that episode, which should only be a year if we’re running with the season = 6 months theory. maybe she was trying to set him up with her granddaughter starting before alexis came along, but that’s not really the implication of this line.

in mcjr, johnny says this is their third christmas in sc. IF they originally moved to sc right before christmas, it can conceivably be about two years at this point. however, nothing about any of the first few episodes of the show is conceivably wintery, so this one really takes some suspension of disbelief on that front. (nevermind the fact that none of the other episodes from what would presumably be their second christmas there around the end of s2/start of s3 mention anything at all about winter, christmas, hanukkah, etc either. it is truly eternally summer in sc, which adds to how fake time feels at any given point lol.)

over the course of s4, jocelyn has a baby, so presumably s4 is prob a bit longer than 6 months. david and patrick’s 4 month anniversary happens right at the halfway point, so let’s say maybe the season is closer to 8 months long, which is plausible. that’s not terribly far off of 6 months, but just something to keep in mind.

roland jr is then implied to be 8 months old as of love letters, which means that 8 months have passed between then and singles week.

in that case we’re looking at 8 months for s4 (minus mcjr), 8 months between seasons (including mcjr), and let’s go back to 6 months again for s5. so by the end of s5 we’re conceivably at 3 years and 4 months in sc.

johnny partners with stevie on the motel in new car, and in the hospies he says it’s been a couple of years’ work. as long as we’re remembering the gap between the season’s there, i think that’s fine. we’re looking at just about two seasons, but plus the extra 8 months between, yeah, that’s 2ish years.

david says in liac that he went to fill out his business license two years ago. that’s about the same time frame as the previous johnny/stevie point, so i’ll allow it.

s6 goes and makes everything a little weird because somehow the first 6 episodes supposedly take place over the course of a month since it’s all before alexis’s flight is supposed to leave. that’s a weird shift from the other seasons, but if it’s not terribly long after that johnny says they’ve been staying in the motel for the last 3 years, he’s not that far off. we’d be at 3 years, 5 months or so by the middle of s6, so presumably it’s at least not quite 4 years yet by the time johnny says it, so i’ll give it to him.

those are the really broad strokes of the timeline. as you can see, there are a few things that we have to kind of sweep under the rug–which is the way the timeline always works–but some of them are at least more vague as markers anyway, so if you want to run with the 6 month theory, as long as you extend s4 by a couple months, it probably does work the best out of any fixed-length per season option.

however, it’s really when you get down into some of the details that things start to give you a headache. for instance, i wrote a whole entire primer on s4′s issues with david’s brithday and jocelyn’s pregnancy here, so feel free to dive into that if you’d like to pull your own hair out lol. those are really the kinds of things we’re talking about when we joke about the timeline being a disaster.

ALSO something else i didn’t get into in that post is that rachel says in the barbecue that she’s trying to win her fiance back 6 months later. david and patrick have been dating for 4 months at that point. so in the 2 months before that, patrick apparently left his fiance, moved to a new town, started a new job, met the love of his life, decided to invest in his new business, applied for grants (and received them), helped get everything ready for the soft launch, and finally once their store is up and running asked his business partner out on a date. i’m not saying it’s impossible for that to have happened over 2 months–well no actually i am saying it’s impossible, lolol. the grants alone would take at least that long lmao. even if we’re running with the 6 months per season, that’s about half a season or 3 months, and that’s still awfully quick for alla that to happen. yeah yeah, suspension of disbelief, yadda yadda yadda, but i’m just saying there are a lot of spots that we have to kind of wave our hands at to make whichever timeline of your choice work.

also there’s the june 22 open mic poster in the bathroom at the apothecary, which adds a whole other conundrum because if it’s for the original open mic, which has to take place between david’s birthday and their 4 month anniversary, that only really works if david’s birthday is in april or so, which does not at all work with alexis graduating on his birthday or any of the numbers he gives. and if it’s for another upcoming open mic night, that means it has to be sometime before june 22 in roadkill when we see the poster, which is about 2/3 of the way into the season, making the start of the season february-ish? but that doesn’t even come close to working with an 8 month time jump between mcjr and love letters. in that case love letters has to take place in june, but then randomly 2/3 of a season later there’s a june event poster in their [recently redesigned] bathroom??? that seems to imply that maybe it really is a poster for the original open mic night, but as i just said, there are issues with making that theory work as well.

(and that’s just the actual time in sc timeline. i didn’t even touch on moira’s career timeline or how long she and johnny have been married, where over the course of just s5 and s6, we’ve gotten we’re still here 35 years later / after an award-worthy trilogy of decades together / your father and i have produced beautiful wine together for over forty years.)

so again, yes, i think in broad strokes you can kinda run with each season being about 6 months or so if that’s what you want to go with, but there are certainly things you have to ignore to make that work.

and that’s just how the timeline is.

#you gotta pick what you're gonna run with #and ignore the rest #i can't believe y'all have gotten me to make yet another comprehensive-ish post on the damn timeline lolol #i keep telling myself i'm not gonna get into the weeds on it anymore #but here we are yet again lmao #timeline #anon #replies #jeremy bearimy

35 notes · View notes

eldritchsurveys · 4 years ago

Text

1021.

5k Survey LXXII

3651. What do you think of jazz? >> I don’t have a solid opinion about it. I mostly like hearing it when I’m in NOLA, because that just makes sense. Otherwise I don’t seek it out. 3652. Why do you suppose Christmas has more hype than Chanucka? >> Because a blatant Christian hegemony rules this country, first of all. Second of all, Christmas and Hanukkah aren’t direct analogues -- it’s not like Hanukkah is “Jewish Christmas” or something, it’s its own thing and completely unrelated. So this comparison is flawed anyway, and only emphasises how Christianity has influenced society. 3653. What is like a rock? >> Chevy trucks, apparently. 3654. Who do you 100% trust? >> Can Calah. 3655. Are you dreaming of a white christmas? >> I’m not dreaming of Christmas yet, Halloween isn’t over. As rabid as I am for Christmas stuff, I do prefer to celebrate the holidays in their order and in their time. That’s part of the fun -- the anticipation.

3656. Have you done anything nice for your neighbors this year? >> I don’t do anything in regards to my neighbours. I really wish I didn’t have any. 3657. What is the most courageous thing you have ever done? >> I don’t know. Survive, probably. 3658. What things (not people) would you miss most if you were locking the big brother house for weeks on end? >> I would never choose to be on Big Brother. Ever. 3659. Use five words to describe your life now. >> No. 3660. Use five words to describe your family. >> --- 3661. Use five words to describe your childhood. >> --- 3662. Who has seen the wind? >> I don’t know. 3663. what's the point of MLA format? Why can't students just freely write their gathered info and opinions the way they feel is best for them? >> Because schools are teaching a standardised structure for academic writing that will ostensibly be used throughout one’s educational career. The sooner you learn it, the sooner it becomes second nature -- and if you end up not pursuing higher education after all, then whatever, no harm done. 3664. What's your favorite fairy tale? >> The Snow Queen. 3665. How will explain god to your children (or a child)? >> As far as the Abrahamic God goes, I’d just read them the stories and explain tricky bits as best as I can, just like I’d do with any other kind of mythology. I’d probably have to take a sidebar to explain that America runs on Dunkin Christianity so there’s a huge bias they’re gonna have to deal with, and a lot of people will say that this god in particular is the only god and will be perfectly willing to fight you about it. So... yeah, there’s that, but otherwise “hey wanna hear a cool story about this dude named Moses” or whatever would be my general tactic. 3666. Is this question satanic? >> I’ve read that it’s possible the Evil Number is actually read as 616, which I like bringing up in this city in particular because that’s the area code here. 3667. Name a person that you love. Describe how they look: Describe how they sound: Describe how they smell: Describe how they feel: Describe how they taste: 3668. What will last longer, the moon or the human race? >> I assume the moon, but there’s really no guarantee of that, is there? 3669. Whose lives do you value more; those of your country or all of humanity? >> The lives I value most are those in my actual social circle. 3670. If the jehovas witnesses dropped by your house what would you do? >> Well, I live in an apartment complex so I just wouldn’t buzz them in... also, real talk, I haven’t seen JW doorknockers in ages. I think they’re out of fashion, around here at least. 3671. Someone you work with or go to school with is giving you a surprise gift. Would you like it better if it were a talking teddybear or a mini tarot deck? >> --- 3672. Where does the sky begin? Just above the ground? >> I’m not sure. 3673. What's the most romantic thing to do? >> --- 3674. What's your most twisted, perverted or odd fantasy? >> I’m not going to go into that here. I have a whole different blog for that sort of content. Compartmentalisation! 3675. What's wrong with lieing? >> The hurting-people bit, when applicable. 3676. If you could have lunch with any _______ who would it be? rock star? actor/actress? political leader? historical figure? dead person? person from your past? person in the world? writer? artist? fictional character? Disney character? 3677. Dedicate a song to someone right now. >> No. 3678. It's christmas eve at ten o'clock at night and YOU HAVE NO SHOPPING DONE! The only thing that's open is the grocery store and the drug store. Do you do all your christmas shopping in the grocery and drug store? >> This is completely inapplicable to me as I don’t do “Christmas shopping”. 3679. If superman is so powerful how does he get with Lois Lane? Wouldn't he kill her? >> I don’t know the logistics of Superman’s physiology or whatever. 3680. What do you think of Jane Fonda? Alan Alda? >> I don’t think about Jane Fonda, but I like Alan Alda because M*A*S*H. 3681. Remember Mary Popins? Feed the birds tuppence a bag. What is 'tuppance'? >> Two pence? Or something. I’m not overly familiar with British currency. 3682. What was the saddest most tear jerking heart wrenching moment of the movie Titanic? >> I’ve never seen it. 3683. Would you like a nice hot bath? >> No, absolutely not. Sparrow probably would, though. 3684. Why is jesus always pictured as white when he came from the middle east and was probably middle eastern? >> Oh, you know why. 3685. Which is worse: Sand in your underwear or Sand in your mouth? >> Sand. Period. 3686. Has President Bush made his case for war with Iraq? >> --- 3687. Should Senator Lott resign (or have resigned) his leadership post? >> --- 3688. If you could pick time's person of the year who would you pick? >> --- 3689. Name all the people you know who you are attracted to and what is attracctive about them? >> --- 3690. What does RSVP actually mean? >> Respondez s’il vous plait or something like that. Google is liable to be more accurate than me. 3691. Is rhyming fun? >> I mean, I’m sure it can be. 3692. Are your dreams violent? >> Not usually. 3693. What 3 questions would you love to ask either your mom or your dad? >> --- 3694. What are the hardest words to say? >> --- 3695. Should I smile because we're friends or cry because that's all we'll ever be? >> ??? 3696. What do you think of the slogan 'you laugh because i'm different. I laugh becuse you are all the same' >> I think it’s pretty laughable, but I am also fondly reminded of being young and “edgy” and having MySpace graphics that said shit like that. There’s a certain age/development bracket where I think those kinds of slogans make perfect sense for someone to extol, but after that it gets awkward at best. 3697. How do you stop dry elbows? >> Moisturiser???? 3698. Why don't people MAKE gifts more often? >> Because it takes time, and energy, and skill, and people can have a wildly varying amount of all three of those. Also, maybe people just don’t want to, and that’s fine. To me, it really is the thought that counts -- the fact that you appreciate me and want to give me a gift to show that you’re thinking of me, no matter what the gift is. (This is also why I’m pretty restrictive about holiday gift-giving, because I don’t trust or want gifts that are given out of some consumerist Hallmark-ass social obligation. And Sparrow’s family buys into that shit hardcore, so.) 3699. Tell it to the world! Read my lips: >> --- 3700. Do you like those plastic couch coverings? >> Do I like them??? Absolutely not, lmao?

#surveys #survey #5000 question survey #not for reblogging *glare*

1 note · View note

racetrackhiggins · 5 years ago

Text

Hanukkah Binch

This is from the rp that me and @alkimara did a while back, I actually looked at the date, and this segment in particular is from like a year ago, I went back and formatted it from discord and made a couple spelling error edits I noticed but there’s probably more. They requested I post it after seeing a post about there not being a lot of Hanukkah celebration fics and stuff

Disclaimer: neither of us are Jewish, all the information I wrote in here was honestly taken from hours of googling, but I might have still gotten some stuff wrong, but I hope it’s at least okay :)

word count: 15433 ship: finch/buttons

Well, another year, another lonely Hanukkah. Finch had tried to remake his mom's challah, but it wasn't the same, and he'd let it sit too long in the oven. Might as well toss it. He wondered what his mom was doing... He wondered if she missed him as much as he sometimes missed her. But he couldn't go back, not with that monster of a stepdad living there. He'd probably end up dead if he ever stepped foot in there while having a boyfriend.

He spun the little dreidel on the coffee table idly, watching as it landed on gimel. Whole pot. Had he been playing with someone.

He sighed, looking at his phone again. Buttons' still hadn't responded to his text. He was probably having fun with his family, Finch couldn't blame him. Maybe he should just work on that animation, at least it would give him something to do…

Buttons saw Finch turned away, and was quiet, so so quiet... "Hey babe~," He giggled, wrapping his arms around Finch's waist. "How are you~?" He looked around, noticing immediately that Finch was alone here, and his heart broke slightly.

Finch nearly screamed, whipping around. "My god, you almost gave me a fucking heart attack!" He looked at Buttons with a disbelieving smile on his face. "What the fuck are you doing here, I thought you were with your family?"

"I heard you were here being alone and mopey," Buttons hummed, "Came to either give you company or invite you over. Or both." He looked over, "Can't play dreidel with a party of one. Well... You'd gotta teach me how to play.'

Finch was quiet for a moment. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't- fuck. He covered his face so Buttons wouldn't see him crying.

"Wh-? Hey... Babe?" Buttons gently curled Finch closer, nuzzling close. "I got you..."

"S-sorry, just..." he couldn't finish the sentence, worming himself around to hug Buttons' neck tightly, burying his face into the crook of it.

"I got ya... You wanna come over? Bring some stuff? You'd probably be teaching us a lot," He chuckled. He moved to rub Finch's back, "Literally I've been trying to get them to let you come over since the break... Finally got 'em."

Finch nodded softly. It had been a long time since he'd been in a... family environment, unless you counted this as a family. Which he kinda did. "I-I'd like that," he said quietly.

"Alrighty, pack your things, and uh... We'll try not to break anything," Buttons hummed. "I may or may not have family in the car downstairs."

Finch laughed in disbelief. "I can't believe you..." But he got up, starting to pack his things, just kinda emptying out his bookbag and stuffing some clothes, his laptop, and some chargers into it. When he came back out with it on his shoulder, he glanced over at the stupid little plastic menorah. He didn't even consider himself a practicing Jew anymore, but... the dumb little fake flames made him feel connected to his mom, in a way. He looked away, clearing his throat. "Guess I'm ready."

"Clearly, you're not," Buttons hummed, going to pick up the menorah. He also picked up the dreidel, though that was more in secret. He handed the menorah to Finch with a small smile, because supportive boyfriends are supportive. "Now, is that everything?"

Finch gave him a small smile as he held onto the menorah's base. "Yeah..." He pressed a kiss to Buttons' cheek.

Buttons smiled, kissing Finch's forehead in return as he brought the other downstairs and to the car.

"So, you're Benny's boyfriend~?" An older girl asked with a smirk, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, here we go," Buttons mumbled.

Finch grinned, glancing at Buttons. "Yep," he said a little shyly. "I'm Finch."

"Good to meet you, Fin- aAH!!"

A younger boy shot up from the passenger seat, "42 WALLABY WAY SYDNEY- Oh that was fast." He laughed as he got hit by the girl who was driving.

Buttons sighed, opening the rear door, "My older brother and sister, Ed and Jan. Ed has narcolepsy."

Finch snickered, "Hi, nice Finding Nemo reference." He kinda fiddled with one of the unlit bulbs on the menorah, not really sure what to say. As an only child, he'd had no idea what to do with siblings in general.

"Welllll hop in!" Jan laughed.

Ed beamed, "Why thank you."

Buttons stepped to the side, helping Finch into the car before climbing in himself, being careful with Finch's stuff and especially the menorah. Ed looked over at it, eyes wide in curiosity, but he didn't comment, instead deciding to vibrate in place.

Finch very subtly took Buttons' hand when he got in, partially out of nerves. "So, uh, how old are you guys?" he asked to the two up front.

"25," Jan answered, starting to drive.

"23," Ed said, blinking slowly, "Trying to get settled in my own place, but I'm not allowed to be alone, in case I fall and hurt myself."

"Versus I'm just working from home to help our parents pay for all of your colleges," Jan said again, glaring in the rear-view at Buttons, who shrugged. He gently intertwined his fingers with Finch's, trying to relax Finch by rubbing his thumb over his hand.

"Ah," Finch nodded. Um... "What about the others?" He knows Buttons had mentioned bits about them before but he couldn't for the life of him remember.

"Benny's 21, Amy's gonna graduate now at 18, Max is 17, and Junior is 12," Jan answered, squinting at the road. "Road work ahead," She muttered.

"I sure hope it does," Ed smirked.

"If I wasn't driving, I'd knock you into another coma," Jan growled.

"I can do that myself, thank you very much," Ed winked.

"At least he's cultured," Finch snickered, maybe not so subtly leaning against Buttons. Boy was like a damn cat sometimes.

Buttons moved an arm around Finch, switching the hand he was holding Finch's hand with. He hummed, shifting to be comfortable, even with their seat belts on.

"Cuddlebugs," Jan giggled. "But also- Ben? Mom was asking if you two wanted to share a room."

"Ohoho??" Ed wiggled his eyebrows, grinning.

"I mean, we already share a room, so even if we weren't dating I wouldn't have a problem with it," Finch pointed out. "Plus, I'd hate ta steal someone else's room."

"Ed, knock it off," Buttons groaned.

"I second that," Jan said, flicking Ed's forehead.

"I mean, he's got a point," Finch murmured with a grin to Buttons.

Buttons blushed a bit, murmuring back, "Yeah but they don't gotta know that."

Ed had a giant smirk on his face.

"Alright, boys~ we're home~!" Jan announced as she pulled up to the house. "Please leave your limbs inside the vehicle until we've come to a full and complete st- eDWARD!" Ed had opened the door and hopped out of the car, racing to the front door. Jan groaned as she put the car in park and turned it off, getting out, "I have the keys you idiot!!"

Buttons hummed, getting out of the car and helping Finch out with his stuff.

"I'm guessing it's always this chaotic?" Finch smiled, trying to pretend he wasn't nervous about meeting Finch's whole family. He'd already known that Buttons' family had inherited a nice house but like... this was

nice.

"Oh, it's worse inside," Buttons snickered. "Be careful with the twelve-year-old. We're trying to keep him from swearing," He hummed, moving to help the other inside.

At the door was an older woman, standing inside the house with a kind smile. She was hugging each of her children and kissing their cheeks, and Buttons looked a little nervous. "Hey, mom," He smiled, going to hug her. "This is my boyfriend-"

The woman turned to Finch, pulling him into a hug, "Hello! Welcome! What's your name??"

"Finch, nice ta meet you, ma'am," Finch said politely, a little surprised by the hug. Did he hug back??

A younger looking boy ran down the stairs. "OOOOO, BENNY'S BROUGHT HIS BOYFRIEND~!" he shouted for the whole house to hear.

"June,

," a mousy looking girl said, pushing his face as she passed him.

"Hey! Mom! Amy pushed me!" Junior shouted as if she weren't right there.

"Did not!" Amy argued.

Finch just kinda glanced at Buttons as if to ask if this was normal for siblings.

Buttons just sighed in distress. His mom soon released Finch from the hug, "Finch. Ah- it's okay, I suppose you can share your real name when the family isn't all about. I've heard about your little code names." She smiled at Buttons, who glared and slowly narrowed his eyes. "Right, Button~?" God damn it.

Buttons sighed, "I'll go set up my room. Where's Max?"

"Practicing, I think," His mom answered.

Buttons nodded, looking at Finch, "Well, c'mon. Let's get you settled."

Finch nodded, carrying his stuff and letting Buttons lead him.

Junior was

following them, curious about the new boy and the weird candle thing he was holding.

"Junior, whatcha doin'?" Buttons hummed casually, opening the door to his room. He moved to help Finch set his stuff down, going to flop on his giant bed, making it pretty clear that they'd be sharing. He looked over at his little brother, an eyebrow raised.

"What's that thing?" Junior asked, pointing at the menorah.

"It's a menorah, but like really shi- uh, not very well made. An actual one would have real candles," Finch explained, barely catching himself.

"What's it for?" Junior asked.

"It's, uh, well, it's a Jewish tradition to light them, one a night, to represent the eight nights oil stayed burning when it was only supposed to last two," Finch explained, a little happily.

"Oh, its that Hanukkah thing! I've heard about those, I've never seen a real one."

Finch snorted, "I'm not even sure this really counts, but it's all I could afford so..."

"I think it counts," Buttons said softly, putting an arm over Finch's shoulders.

"Looks like you made it all by yourself~. You're more talented than just drawing, y'know," Buttons smiled. He looked at Junior, "Finch makes animations and drawings! Don'tcha, Finch?"

"Yeah," Finch said sheepishly.

"Like Disney?!" Junior asked excitedly.

"Like... well, I guess, but I'm certainly not good enough to make a whole animated film, maybe a short at most," Finch shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

"Woah..."

Buttons was beaming, "Yeah, I've got a pretty talented boyfriend, huh~?"

... And now there was a loud electric guitar coming from the next room. Buttons sighed. Max.

"No fair you have a cool boyfriend," Junior pouted, ignoring the guitar.

Finch flushed a little at that. What, no, he wasn't cool! He looked up at the guitar, looking at Buttons as he sighed.

Buttons smirked, "'Course I do~." He looked over at Finch, "That's Max. They're. Uh. I don't know the term. Rock band. Very... metal."

"Sounds like

cool," Finch chuckled softly as Junior ran off. "I am certainly not the cool boyfriend. I'm just some animating nerd who showed up with a dumb handmade menorah." He flopped next to the bags, sighing softly as he set the thing down. The lights flickered for a second, and he tensed up for a moment before they went to normal. "Probably won't even last much longer if I don't change out the wires. Why bother though?" he murmured under his breath.

Buttons pouted, going over and flopping on top of Finch. "Because it looks like it means a lot to you," He said softly. "I don't know why, but it does. If you need help, we can fix it," He murmured, kissing Finch lightly.

Finch looked up at Buttons softly. "You know why I stay at the dorm instead of going home every year?" he asked quietly, knowing full well he hadn't told anyone about his family situation, not even Buttons.

"No," Buttons said softly, moving off of the other and sitting next to him, carefully holding Finch's hand.

"Cause I ran away from home when I was sixteen," Finch said, letting out a small, humorless laugh. "My stepdad nearly killed me when he found out I was gay, my mom never knew how he treated me when she wasn't looking... So I left."

Button's eyes widened, and he moved closer to Finch, looking at the other with an expression that could only be described as holding a lot of emotions.

Finch had to look away from him, running a hand through his hair. "My dad died when I was thirteen, and Aaron came in and 'saved' my grieving mother not long after." He sighed, holding onto the menorah and looking at it. "Guess this is me just trying to feel like I did in the past. Obviously, it's not the same. Can't even actually light this stupid thing." He sounded a little bitter about it. "But I couldn't use real candles in this or I'd just burn something down."

Buttons was biting his lip, thinking. He gently looked over, taking the menorah and turning it off. He set it to the side, standing and tugging Finch out of the room, heading out to the garage with the other, still quiet and thinking. He let go of the other, grabbing a stool and climbing on it, reaching for a large blue bin. He grabbed it, carefully pulling it down and setting it on the ground with a grunt. After digging around for a few seconds, he pulled out a

bag of clay, putting it on the metal table. He looked at Finch, "Bake-able clay. Will not melt from a candle. Well- not if we put in the little metal cups at the bottom." He dug around, pulling out the metal cups that were usually seen in tiny candles. Except there was no wax or wick. "Jan used to play around with candles," Buttons hummed, setting the metal pieces on the table as well. He looked at Finch, heading around the box and going to take the other's hands again. "It might not be the same, you might not be able to get to the past, but... There's nothing wrong with remembering how happy you were."

Finch watched with confusion until Buttons started explaining. He bit his lip, and god damn it, he was starting to tear up again. "Hah, we could make real dreidels with that too," he said, trying to blink away the wetness to not much avail.

Buttons saw the tearing up, "Oh. I did it again." He chuckled, gently offering his arms for a hug, "Also,

make the dreidels. Or you'd have to teach me how to help."

"I can help," Ed said, peeking in. Buttons glanced away, and Ed continued,

"Please?" Buttons said softly.

"I didn't say no," Ed laughed, moving into the room.

"Sorry I'm coming in and Jewing everything up," Finch joked, wiping his eyes. "I really appreciate it, though..."

"Jesus was Jewish," Ed snorted softly, going to pat Finch's head before moving to pull the clay out of the bag. He blinked, going for his set of sculpting tools and setting them out before starting to play with different pieces of clay. "Plus we mostly celebrate Christmas for each other and presents," He chuckled.

"Very true. To be fair, most Jews believe that a guy named Jesus existed and was probably a cool dude... that's about the extent of it though," Finch grinned, feeling much better.

Buttons had moved to grab another piece of clay, playing around with it to warm it up.

"Lit," Ed said with a grin.

Finch grabbed a piece, kneading it. "I've only made a dreidel once before, wonder if I could do it again. I'm still convinced my dad had switched it out with a better one so I wouldn't feel bad when it didn't spin right," Finch said, smiling softly... damn, it had been a long time since he'd thought of that.

"What's so hard about making a spin?" Ed grinned, grabbing the entire thing of clay- which was as big as a laptop -and just dumping it out, starting to knead it like a large piece of dough. "Shit, this is hard," He mumbled.

"I mean, I was also like six at the time," Finch grinned. "And my dad was a sculptor for a living." He snickered at Ed, "I don't think we're making bread, that's a whole other tradition. I do remember he said it should be about the size of the hole of your fingers," he said, holding his pointer and thumb together in a circle.

"Yeah, but I'm tryin to smooth this out for the uh... the candle stick... What's it called?" Ed tilted his head, curious.

Buttons took a smaller piece of his big piece, holding it out, "Like this?"

"Menorah," Finch said, nodding in approval to Buttons. He was rolling the clay into a ball, starting to roll a point with his palm. For a moment, he could swear he felt his dad beside him, reminding him how to do it. There was a small smile on his face, perhaps bittersweet.

Buttons leaned over from his spot, watching, trying to follow as he did it.

"Right," Ed hummed, still rolling out the clay. And then he hummed again. "Well. Maybe you'll need to do this alone."

"Ed???" Buttons looked over.

Ed gave a thumbs up, moving over to the hammock in the room, and barely managing to get on it before collapsing, snoring lightly.

Buttons sighed.

Finch laughed softly. "I don't mind." He scooted closer to Buttons, letting him see exactly how he was doing it.

he heard in his head. Finch repeated it to Buttons, not realizing he'd copied his dad's Spanish accent, too focused on the actions of his fingers.

Buttons blushed a bit at the accent, but didn't dare break the spell that Finch was under, following along as best as he could.

"Could ya hand me the little... that thing with the string on it?" Finch asked in his normal accent, pointing in the direction of the tools.

"Yup," Buttons hummed, grabbing it and moving it over to Finch.

Finch took the string and used it to cut clean sides onto it, and suddenly it looked like a somewhat long dreidel. He set it on the ground, slicing it down to size before taking the extra and beginning to form it into a little rolled snaky piece for the top of the spinner to be cut out of.

"Ohh what the..." Buttons took the string piece, trying to copy what Finch had done. A little crooked, but it still looked like a dreidel. Mostly.

"Looks good!" Finch grinned proudly at him, kissing his cheek. He molded the snaky part to the top of his dreidel, smoothing it out so it looked nearly seamless, before pinching the extra off and molding it to be a neat top. "Do you have paint? It would be easier than trying to cut the symbols in."

Buttons was sticking his tongue out as he followed, "Yeah, more paint in the bin. There's also some teeeeeny tiny brushes." He was squinting, trying to focus, so happy that Finch said it looked good.

"Sweet, then this is done to bake," Finch smiled. He looked over at the menorah, thinking. If they were gonna make it candle-safe, then there would be no need for the wires.... He could just use the base and sculpt over it with clay, then- wait, no the plastic would probably melt in the oven. "I think we just start completely over," Finch murmured, setting the menorah down, using it as a visual example as he started rolling out a base from Ed's big ball.

"Alright," Buttons said after a moment, seeing no other way. "We can use the little metal bits as molds for where the candle will go?" He offered, using some wire to start planning out the structure. He ran into the house and back out again, having a roll of aluminum foil. He started rolling off large sheets, trying to build up the menorah’s main bulk.

Finch smiled, just looking at Buttons for a long moment as he worked. It was fitting, maybe. Finch had made his menorah years ago out of homesickness and sorrow, never quite content with it. Now Buttons was here, helping him build a new good memory to associate with Hanukkah. Not just the sad longing of the past.

Buttons caught the look, giggling softly. He moved over, gently kissing Finch, 'cause the other was just too damn cute. "Alright," He hummed, pushing the menorah forwards, "I did my very best~!"

"I love you so much," Finch said softly as he took the menorah base. He looked back up at Buttons with a small smile. "Thank you for doing this with me, and for not letting me be alone this year."

Buttons smiled softly, "'Course... I love you too, Finch. A lot. I'm glad you're here with me. Even if my family is uh... Crazy." He chuckled a bit, happy.

Finch laughed softly. "I certainly see why you seemed so used to the Newsies when we moved in." He had a long rope of clay at this point, and he put the end on the bottom of the base, starting to wind it around the foil, making sure there were no breaks in it.

"Yeah," Buttons giggled, watching the other.

Finch managed to get it halfway up before he needed to roll more. He quickly rolled it out, his tongue sticking out a little bit in focus as he did. He carefully molded it to the end of the previous one so you couldn't tell the end or start of either. He winded it up the rest of the way, nodding a little bit in satisfaction.

Buttons just watched, his elbows on the table. He was fascinated with how the other worked, and snorted softly, "Y'know I'm like. The only one in my family that doesn't have artistic talent? Ed can sculpt like a badass, Amy can paint, Max loves their guitar like it's their kid. Jan with watercolors is something extraterrestrial. We don't really know if Junior has anything, though." Buttons sunk, moving his face against the table, "Then there's me, who I guess can sew. And my artistic and talented as fuck boyfriend~."

"But you're cute as a button~" Finch teased, glancing up at him. "And at least you have a life skill," he said, nodding at him.

Buttons rolled his eyes, "My mom says that too much. Jack said my name in front of her and it was the death of me. I'm just a ghost." He giggled, and blinked. He gasped, offended, "Art is a life skill!! Look at this sculpting talent from a beautifully sculpted man! You could sell things online!!" He grinned at Finch, his voice loud and dramatic.

"Shh, you'll wake your brother up," Finch said, definitely not turning red at all.

Buttons giggled, "I could- and have -screamed into his ear. Doesn't do a thing."

Finch laughed softly, starting to wrap the clay in the same fashion around one of the prongs of the candleholders.

Buttons moved over, wrapping his arms around Finch's waist, nuzzling into his back, but not hindering the other from working. "I~ Love~ You~," Buttons hummed with a smile.

"I love you too~" Finch hummed, glancing at him for a moment, leaning his head against him.

Buttons moved to kiss the other happily.

"Gay."

Buttons sighed, pressing his head against Finch's shoulder, "Gotta love my family."

Jan giggled, "Mom wanted me to let you know Dinner will be ready in around an hour."

"Alright, thanks, Jan," Buttons said, still hiding his blush and cuddling with Finch.

"Sure, Jan," Finch said in an imitation of the meme with a small giggle as he worked. "Hopefully I'll at least be done with this part... yeah, no there's no way I will."

Jan rolled her eyes, heading off again.

Buttons sighed, looking up, "I can help. Maybe. Yes?" He looked hopeful.

"You can go ahead a roll out more? That way when I run out, I have more ready," Finch suggested.

"Alrighty~!" Buttons beamed, moving away to go roll out more clay happily.

Finch smiled as he kept working, planning ahead in his mind, realizing that he was very much modeling it after the one his mother had. The twists were more like his dad, though. By the end of the hour, he'd finished one side of the menorah.

At some point during the hour, Ed had bolted awake. And then slapped himself to keep himself awake. "Fuckin'..." He sighed, waving to the two as he moved out of the room.

At the end of the hour, Buttons was beaming, "It looks great!" He looked excited, practically vibrating in place. "Alright, c'mon~," He giggled, gently moving the Menorah to the middle of the table where it would be safe. He smiled at Finch, leading the other to the kitchen happily.

Finch grinned back to him, following him.

Buttons' dad was in the kitchen, totally not flirting teasingly with his wife. "Hey, Ben, how goes it?" he grinned, pulling away from her to ruffle Buttons' hair. "You must be Finch," he said in a friendly manner, shaking Finch's hand. "You can just call me Peter."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Finch said a little sheepishly.

Buttons sighed, smiling a bit from his father's head-rub. "Hey, Dad," He chuckled, moving to help set the table. He smiled a but at Finch and his dad, confident that they'd get along okay.

Junior came bounding down the stairs, making web-slinging noises as he pretended to be swinging in like Spiderman. "I hear there is... dinner~" he said dramatically. He dropped it after a second, pouting, "Amy says she's not coming cause she has to write a paper."

Peter sighed, glancing at his wife. "You want me to get her or just bring her a plate?"

Finch sorta scooted a little closer to Buttons.

Buttons blinked, gently tugging Finch closer, "It's okay, no one's gonna eat you." He giggled a bit, kissing Finch's cheek.

Max came downstairs with a sigh. They appeared completely androgynous, black hair and black and pale makeup over their face. They definitely stood out from the crowd with the black metal t-shirt and spiked bracelets, but they just hummed as they moved to help set everything up, nodding their head casually at Finch.

"You sure?" Finch asked quietly at Max's appearance, and he'd certainly be lying if he said he wasn't a little intimidated by them.

"Well, I might, but not now," Buttons snickered quietly. "Also, don't worry about Max. They're doing their thing, and we love them anyway," Buttons giggled, a little louder.

Max gave a rock on symbol with their hand, smiling a bit.

Button's mother, Jess, sighed. "Go bring her down, she has the entire week and can take a 20 minute break for family." She pecked husband's lips, moving to bring things to the table.

Peter nodded, heading upstairs as Junior hung onto his mom's arm. "Gross, you gave Dad cooties~"

Finch laughed softly, "Fair enough." He waited for Buttons to tell him where to go/what to do.

Jess hummed, "He already had cooties long before you were born." And she looked at Jan, the eldest.

Ed hummed, moving to sit, and Buttons gently motioned for Finch to sit next to himself. Ed sat across from Finch, Max going to sit on the other side of Finch instead. Jan sat next to Ed, leaving the last spot for Amy, and the heads of the table for their parents.

"Ewww," Junior cried, running off to the table. He leaned close to Buttons, "Mom made a dirty joke," he said scandalously.

Finch snorted, covering his mouth to try to disguise his laugh as a cough.

Jess rolled her eyes, smiling a bit as she moved to sit. She sighed, waiting for Peter and Amy.

Amy came down and sat down, sighing a little bit. Peter came and sat at the other end of the table. "Looks great, hun," he said, looking at the spread.

Jess smiled at that, "Had to work my best magic for our guest."

The people at the table moved to hold hands, Max gently taking Finch's other to connect the circle. Hm. Black fingerless gloves. After quickly saying grace, Buttons, Jan, and Jess moved to serve the food. When that was done, they sat again, and started to eat.

Finch felt a sort of pang in his heart that he elected to ignore as he started to eat. "It's really good, ma'am," he said politely.

"Thank you," She hummed with a smile. "So, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?" Ah. The family interrogation. Buttons sighed, as if he was expecting this.

"Oh, um, well, I'm in my third year like Benny, and I'm going for an Animation major," Finch said.

"Oh, good luck," Jess said politely. "Sounds like a fun field, certainly a lot of work!"

"Takes me forever for one sketch," Jan said with a bit of a laugh.

"Yeah, it can take me weeks to do a ten minute short, " Finch grinned. "I had to simplify my style a little to make even that."

"Wow," Jan laughed.

"Big yikes," Ed nodded in agreement.

"Yeah... Ben's had to drag me away from my tablet at 3 am cause I was still working on a project," Finch chuckled, glancing at Buttons.

"At 3am you weren't even focusing," Buttons grinned.

Jan chuckled, "Deadlines suck."

Finch nodded in agreement.

"Could you draw Spiderman?" Junior asked, his eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, sure!" Finch said.

"I wanna be Spiderman, he's so cool, and he lives in New York, so I could be Spiderman," Junior said idly as he ate.

Hm. Alright. Finch could do that, probably by the end of the week.

Ed giggled, "Just gotta find a radioactive spider."

Jan flicked his arm.

Junior nodded, "Mhm."

"Don't go around trying to get bit by spiders," Peter warned, glancing at Ed.

Junior pouted a little, but simply kept eating.

"I'm done, can I go work on my paper now?" Amy asked.

"Sure, tell your little internet girlfriend we say hi," Peter teased.

Amy blushed a little bit, but didn't respond to that as she took her plate to the kitchen.

Ed shrugged.

"Good luck, Amy~!" Jan said cheerfully.

Max kept eating, remembering something. Ah, they'd just bring it up when they needed to.

Once everyone was done eating, Junior ran to go play video games until his mom told him to get off of it, and Peter carried plates to the sink to wash them.

Finch looked down at the table, murmuring a short and quick prayer, hoping no one noticed. He stood up. "Do we need to help..?" he asked Buttons.

Max had done the same without even asking, just staying by Finch. Seems someone was educated. Buttons was a bit confused but respectful, leaving his hands in his lap and waiting until Finch was done. "Nah, my dish day was yesterday," Buttons said with a smile, "We can probably just go up to the room."

Max got up, moving to the kitchen, because today was their dish day.

"Would it be okay if I went and tried to finish the menorah first?" Finch asked softly.

"Shit, almost forgot," Buttons huffed. "Yeah, let's go." He smiled at the other, moving back to the garage.

And then Jan grabbed him. He squeaked, Jan holding him a chokehold as she said kindly, "You go on ahead, I'd like to talk to Ben for a second."

"O-okay," Finch said. "Please don't break my boyfriend." He waved to Buttons as he went back to the garage and got back to work.

"I'll do my best," Jan beamed.

Ed moved back into the garage a few minutes later, getting some clay from the larger wad. He looked over at Finch's sculpture, "Looks nice." He started messing with the clay, working on his own thing.

Buttons squeaked.

"Why else would you bring him home?" Jan smirked.

"Because?? He was at college all alone???" He answered, face bright red. "Okay- I- Jan- I know I love him- but like- we

"Never too early or late to hop on the wedding train," Jan grinned.

"Says you! Where's your marriage?" Buttons glared.

Jan put a hand over her chest dramatically, "Across the seven seas in aromantic land, remember?" Buttons groaned, looking at her, and she giggled. "I just wanted to see what was up. Everyone seems to like him. Just putting a little~ thought~ into your head."

"Thanks," Finch said shyly, smiling softly at it. Maybe another hour at this pace and he could finish the wrappings. Then from there, the rest wouldn't be too hard.

Ed nodded. And then he felt something familiar. "Hm. I really hope I don't collapse," He muttered, pacing more to keep himself awake.

Finch looked up, setting the thing down. "Do-do I need to get anyone? Or catch you?"

"Uhhhh...." Ed shook his head, "No, lemme jus- siNKING SHIP-!!"

As soon as he'd started yelling it, Max was under him, catching him as he fell over. Max sighed, helping the other over to the hammock, "Got him..."

Jan appeared at the doorway, calm when she saw Max had their brother, and continuing to hold Buttons in a chokehold out of view. She moved away, casually continuing their conversation.

Max sighed, "You worked another late night." Ed huffed something, trying to keep awake, but nope- he passed out. Max looked over, "Sorry about that."

"Ah, it's fine," Finch said a bit slowly. "That happen often?"

"Yeah. He's got narcolepsy with cataplexy- it's better on days where he actually gets sleep," Max said, moving over. "That's pretty," They hummed, looking at the menorah.

"Oh, thanks. My last one isn't so much, so Bu-Ben was helping me make a new one," Finch said, gesturing to the flickering fake candles on the plastic one. "I'm gonna make a little Star of David piece to put on top for the shamash to sit on once I'm done with this part."

"Nice," Max hummed. They looked around, pulling out a ninth metal cup, "Probably gonna need that one." They rolled their shoulders, tilting their head, "Also be careful that it's strong enough that you can drop it from an inch off the table and it won't break- that's usually a tell if it'll crack in the oven."

"Yeah, I figured I'd roll the wire into two triangles, put the clay on, then put them together and make sure they are really secure," Finch said, motioning with his hands.

Max gave a thumbs up, looking over at Ed. They sighed, playing with one of their rings, looking worried for their brother. He moved back to the hammock, bringing up a chair, carefully watching the other. "What was he doing before he passed out?"

"He was starting to do something with the clay, but he'd just started, so I'm not sure what," Finch said as he started working again.

"Alright, gonna need that to trigger his memory again so he doesn't pass out again," Max sighed.

"How's that work?" Finch asked curiously.

"So, from what the doctors say," Max hummed, trying to think, "Basically the cataplexy means he gets paralyzed. The narcolepsy actually makes him pass out, which becomes a lot easier when his muscle tension is basically zero. It's also 'cause he doesn't release wake-up chemicals, as the Doc called them. So when he's slept like shit, you can imagine how much easier that is. Usually it doesn't last very long- but it's disorienting, so it takes a while for him to remember what he was doing. The faster he remembers, the faster he can wake up." Max smiled a bit, happy they'd remembered all of that, and looked up. "I may or may not be interested in the medical field," They admitted.

"Oh... Huh. That's pretty cool," Finch said. "The medical field interest, not the... yeah." Stop talking now.

Max laughed a little, "No, it is all cool. It's just kinda shitty, too."

Max pat Ed's forehead, and he shot up, blinking rapidly, "FUCK!"

Max chuckled, "What were you sculpting, bro?"

"A-a-auh...." He looked over, squinting at the clay, trying not to collapse again, "Uhm... Uh..."

"Easy, focus. Kinda looks like a flower?" Max said, glancing over.

"Oh. A rose. I was-" His face heated up, "-doING A THING FOR A FRIEND." He took a breath, because fuck he didn't want to pass out again.

Finch kinda watched as he worked, not wanting to disrupt or somehow make it worse.

Max gently pat Ed's head, "Let's bring it up to your room, yeah?"

Ed sighed, waving Max off. He got up, moving over to the table (only slightly woozy). He waved to Finch awkwardly, then moved with Max out of the room.

It was another half-hour before Buttons moved into the garage, "I'm freeeee~!"

Finch waved to them, going back to work. By the time Buttons came in, he was finishing the last one. "Jeez, she stole you for a while," he teased. "What were ya talkin' about?"

"Sibling stuff," Buttons murmured, blushing a little. "Wow, that looks nice~."

"As an only child, I have no idea what that means," Finch giggled, twirling the menorah in his hand. "Yeah, it's not bad, huh?" He beamed, setting it down carefully as he grabbed the wire again, cutting pieces out and forming them into the shape he wanted above the top to make sure the sizing was okay. Content, he took them back, forming them into two triangles before grabbing a piece of clay and rolling it.

Buttons watched with interest, recognizing the shape. "We could probably pop it in the oven and head up, Max doesn't know the definition of sleep. Ironically," He chuckled.

"Yeah, all I gotta do is make the Star and form it, and the cups, onto it and make sure they are all secure, make the bottom, unless you wanna do that. Just take a cup or a ball of some sort and form it around it, then cut it to be even," Finch said, focused as he stuck one of the wire pieces through it. "We could probably finish the whole thing within another hour, at most."

Buttons nodded, moving to help how Finch directed him.

Once they had put the final touches together and Finch had made sure everything was secure and wouldn't easily break off, he looked up at Buttons proudly. "I think it's done!" His eyes were shining in a way they usually didn't.

Buttons smiled happily at the shine, going, "Alright, let's put 'er in~!" Soon enough, they had the manorah in the oven, and Buttons was leading Finch upstairs again after Max swore to bring the item out of the oven when the timer went off.

Finch flopped onto the bed, sprawled across it, his eyes closed but a small smile on his face.

"Incoming," Buttons laughed, flopping next to Finch and nuzzling close. "Day 1. Status: Alive. Mostly."

"Day 1, didn't massively embarrass myself in front of your family. I hope," Finch giggled, wrapping around him like a koala.

"Nope," Buttons giggled, snuggling closer happily. "Are we showering or just sleeping?"

"I'm guessing we can't shower together without raising some eyebrows," Finch grinned, opening his eyes to look at him softly.

"I mean, we can, we just can't make noise," Buttons snorted softly. He curled into the bed and Finch more.

"Hm, tempting~" Finch grinned, not having much intention of leaving Buttons' arms at the moment. After a moment, he said quietly. "I want to make a quick animation for your brother, he seems to really like Spiderman, so I wanna do like... a shot of Spidey swinging into the frame and pulling off his mask and it's Junior. You think he'd like that?"

"I think he'd scream out of pure joy," Buttons chuckled.

He thought to himself, his ears going red again.

"Would you absolutely hate me if I started storyboarding it now?" Finch grinned. "I'll stay here and let you cuddle me if it helps~"

"As long as I get to cuddle you, I don't care," Buttons hummed happily.

Finch kissed him quickly before hopping down to grab his laptop and tablet, setting it up as he got back and settled against the pillows. He closed the latke recipe that was open when he opened his laptop; he'd considered trying to make them, but after the failed challah, decided not to. He woke up the tablet by wiggling the pen across it, opening Flash.

Buttons didn't notice (mostly cuz he didn't understand). "Hey, if you're interested in making any other stuff, we got plenty," Buttons giggled, cuddling up to Finch's back. He kept his arms around the other's waist, letting him work.

Finch shrugged, "I wouldn't want to make another mess. I tried to recreate my mom's challah- its a type a bread- and it turned out pretty horribly. I burned the hell outta it but somehow the inside was still raw. Guess I'm not a baker," he joked as he started sketching.

"Hmm~... If you want, we can try to make it tomorrow. We really don't celebrate a lot," Buttons admitted with a bit of a chuckled. "Our celebrating is chilling without school."

Finch was quiet for a moment, it seemed that maybe he didn't hear him? "I'd like that," he said after a moment, glancing at Buttons. "We could make latkes and doughnuts," he smiled softly. "And maybe retry the challah, possibly with some help."

"What's a latke?" Buttons asked curiously, nuzzling into Finch's neck and watching the other.

"Basically like a fried potato pancake," Finch explained. "Latkes and doughnuts are traditional, cause the whole oil thing, and you fry them in oil, ya know. They were my favorite part, but I haven't had them in years."

"Well... We got a frier..." Buttons looked extremely interested. "We can try it~!"

Finch butted his head lightly against Buttons'. He was so in love with this boy, and so so grateful for him and his family taking him in and letting him celebrate his own holiday.

Buttons laughed a little, placing kisses on Finch's cheek and neck happily. "I love you so much~," He hummed.

"I love

so much," Finch countered. "And... thanks. Seriously. I would be moping in my bed all alone right now had you not brought me in."

Buttons hummed again, "I couldn't let my boyfriend just be mopin'...." He smiled a little, "Plus, I get to cuddle you in my bed~." His voice dropped a little, "Get to be with you~ In my bed~." He was just teasing now, kissing Finch's neck again and letting the kiss linger.

"Oh, naughty naughty brat boy," Finch teased, trying to stay on focus with the sketching, as tempting as Buttons was.

"Hehe~," Buttons giggled, lightly nomming on Finch's neck. He settled down, though, wanting the other to focus, and hummed softly, just keeping close.

Finch rolled his eyes with a smile, leaning a little more against him. "By the time I finish the storyboarding, most of your family will probably be asleep," Finch said, just kinda throwing that out there.

"Not me~," Buttons smirked, "And my room is next to Ed's and Max's... Ed is a deep sleeper, and Max sleeps with music..." Just to say that. Y'know.

"Hm. Interesting." Finch said oh so casually, just sketching. No naughtiness happening here, so innocent~

Buttons hummed in response, teasingly nomming on Finch's neck again, and just resting there.

Finch laughed softly, resting his head against Buttons'. "Does your mama know you are trying to be naughty with your boyfriend under her roof~?" he teased.

"Considering I have five siblings, I don't think she can scold me," Buttons smirked.

"You know what... fair enough," Finch snickered. His hand moved fast, and the general motion of a figure swinging into the shot was clear.

Buttons got a little distracted, watching Finch draw quietly, just looking amazed. He relaxed against the other, almost hypnotized by Finch's movements.

By the time he was done, an hour and a half had passed. "How's that?" Finch asked, playing the simple animation back on a loop for him.

"Looks badass," Buttons hummed, eyes wide. "June's really gonna love it."

Finch grinned, saving it before closing his laptop and setting it on the ground beside him. He hummed, coming back up to kiss Buttons softly. "What now?" he asked teasingly.

Buttons felt a shiver move through him, glancing to make sure the laptop wasn't in the way. He shrugged, a bit mischievously, "I may or may not have supplies for some fun, if you're interested...~"

"Oh? What kind of fun?" Finch grinned teasingly.

Buttons hummed, curious, and he moved to kiss Finch gently, hugging the other a little closer, "Pretty sure you're aware of the kind of fun." He smirked a little, kissing the other again.

"I'm a good little Jewish boy, a man of God, I have no idea what you're talking about," Finch teased.

"Pfft," Buttons snickered, his voice dropping lower. "When we got together it's 'cause you were getting off on me in the shower~." He moved to kiss Finch's neck, lightly nipping on the skin.

"W-well, I'm also half Spanish, must be where my lack of shame comes from," he joked. Certainly untrue, told by the blush on his face.

Buttons snickered, "You wanna test that?" He shifted, nuzzling a little lower, scraping his teeth against what he knew was sensitive skin.

Finch made a small whine, leaning his head away a little to give him more room.

Buttons hummed, and... Gosh, he was in a playful mood. He blew a raspberry against the skin, giggling as he picked up Finch and turned, laying the other against the bed with quiet laughter.

"You dork," Finch giggled, holding onto Buttons' waist.

Buttons was beaming, snuggling closer, "Yep." He moved up to kiss Finch happily, "One happy dork that's happily in love." He moved his hands to either side of Finch's head, palms on the bed, "Also one happy dork that has his boyfriend pinned to a bed~."

"What's that make me, huh? Just a boyfriend pinned to a bed?" Finch winked, a grin on his face, looking just as taken with him.

"How about a cute, adorable, artistic and amazingly talented boyfriend that's pinned to a bed?" Buttons hummed.

"Unrealistic," Finch deadpanned, snorting softly.

"Very realistic," Buttons said with a smile, kissing Finch again. "I love you~."

"I love

," Finch grinned happily, kissing him back sweetly.

"I love

Buttons giggled, kissing his nose. "I love you so so so so much~," Buttons hummed, shifting a bit to straddle the other.

"Stop takin' the words outta my mouth," Finch teased, pulling Buttons down to kiss him again. "It's rude~"

"It's not rude, it's mind-reading," Buttons giggled, leaning into the kiss, feeling so happy, his heart so full of love he was gonna explode.

"Well, ain't it lucky I love you so much~" Finch could say it all night, and it still wouldn't seem like enough.

Buttons gently pressed himself down against the other, his kisses lowering again to Finch's neck, nipping and nuzzling close, "And I love you tons~."

"I could say it a million times and it wouldn't be enough times to tell you how much I love you," Finch said, holding onto him, nuzzling his face against his hair.

"I could scream it to the world but I wouldn't be happy until every star heard me say I love you~," Buttons giggled.

"That's gay, Benny," Finch teased.

"We're gay, Patty," Buttons teased back, moving up to kiss Finch's lips. "Like, real gay."

"Thank god," Finch sighed. "I don't know what I'd do if we were straight. Die, probably."

"Probably," Buttons giggled, nuzzling closer. He was really teetering on the edge of being horny and just flopping on the other in cuddles. So he did just lay on the other in cuddles. For now~!

Finch squeezed his arms around him, kissing his forehead. "God, imagine telling that scared little boy running away from home that this is where he'd end up..." he said softly. "Holding the cutest boy in the world, so happy and full of love~"

Buttons squeaked like a squeak toy, giggling as he nuzzled closer. "Sometimes the bravest people get the nicest things~," He praised.

Finch wondered how he'd react if he knew exactly what he'd been through, and was almost tempted to tell him. He didn't want to ruin the moment though, and decided against it. "Yeah... I guess I'm just a lucky guy," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss Buttons softly.

Buttons noticed the look. "Hey, you wanna hear a secret?" He said softly.

"Sure, what is it?" Finch asked curiously.

"I lived in Cali, for like, a really long time~," Buttons giggled, mimicking a Cali girl's accent. He shifted, going to normal, "A fire ate our house. It was just me and Ed and Jan. We were homeless for a bit, then we inherited this place... Still poor, but not homeless." He smiled softly, "I barely remember it, but my family calls it the Dark Ages of our history."

"Damn, must've been scary... At least I didn't have to worry 'bout anyone but myself," Finch said, implying that he too had been homeless.

Buttons hugged Finch closer, "I'm just... Trying to say I know some of it. I clearly don't know everything and you don't gotta tell me everything. I love you, okay?"

"Yeah..." Finch pressed his forehead softly to Buttons. He sighed softly, working his hand into Buttons' hair. "And it's not that I don't wanna tell you, I just... it's not the funnest story, ya know? Don't wanna bring the mood down."

"Up to you. I think the mood right now is cuddles and love," Buttons hummed, relaxed on top of the other. He relaxed with the pets, keeping close.

"I will one day, alright?" Finch promised, kissing him softly.

"Alright," Buttons hummed, leaning into the kiss. He nuzzled close, wanting to comfort the other.

Finch closed his eyes with a soft sigh, happy to just be here with him. "You're warm," he mumbled.

"You're cozy," Buttons murmured, relaxing. "Get to cuddle a cute pretty boy in my bed," He hummed happily, eyes closing.

"You're the cute pretty boy," Finch murmured, snuggling him closer.

"No you are," Buttons hummed, kissing Finch's cheek.

"You are, no take backs," Finch giggled softly. He was already starting to doze off.

"Okay, but you are too," Buttons said, his words barely above a whisper. "G'night, babe..."

"G'nigh," Finch mumbled back, falling asleep in the warm coziness of his boyfriend.

Buttons woke up around 9:30, trying to ignore the sun in his eyes. He shifted very slightly, resting in the crook of Finch's neck, relaxed.

"Mornin'," Finch mumbled, having been stirring from sleep for the last few minutes.

Buttons just hummed in response, slowly curling his arms around Finch more. He realized why he'd felt so sluggish for the past few mornings- Finch wasn't there. He cuddled more into the other, happy that he was with Finch now.

Finch pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to his forehead. He had an idea of a cute animation bit of this- ohhh he had ideas for a few cute animations and he'd put so many hearts people would choke on it.

Buttons smiled, blushing a little. He moved to kiss Finch's lips sleepily, imagining waking up like this every morning and just melting from that.

"What a lovely wake up call~" Finch teased, his voice a little rough from sleep, his hair sticking up in every direction messily.

Buttons hummed softly, "Mhm." He kissed Finch's cheek, moving off of/away from the other and sitting up, stretching and cracking his joints.

Finch tried to pat his bedhead down as he sat up, yawning. Uh oh, how'd he get here? He was now wrapped against Buttons' waist, his chin resting on his shoulder. Mmm, he didn't mind.

"Hum~?" Buttons moved an arm around Finch's shoulders, cuddling the other closer, "Why, hello." He gently kissed Finch's forehead, relaxed.

"Hi~" Finch smiled sleepily, blushing a little because he was just... very happy, very warm, very gay.

Buttons saw the blush, shifting to kiss Finch's lips happily. Very warm. Very gay. Much cuddle.

"Ugh, you're gonna kill me, I'm not emotionally ready for you to be kissing me so sweetly," Finch whined.

"Sh, let me revel in my morning breath not killing you," Buttons teased, going to kiss Finch again, tongue swiping against the other's lips.

"See, that's how much I love you, I don't even care that your breath stinks," Finch giggled.

Buttons laughed. "Well." He kissed Finch's nose, "Then let me go take care of that." He got up, getting a change of clothes, "Most of the rooms up here are bedrooms, first floor is anything you want it to be. Don't be afraid to come join me in the shower~." He winked, tiredly moving out of the room.

Finch sat there for about maybe half a second before getting his own change of clothes and followed him. I mean, what better way to wake up than a shower, and it would only be saving water!

Max was already downstairs, a bagel in the toaster. They looked over at Finch, rolling their eyes and shaking their head softly as they waited. Hm.

Hm. Finch just quietly leaned against the wall as he waited for Buttons, having a feeling Max knew what they'd been doing upstairs.

Yes. Max definitely knew. As they got their bagel, they looked at Finch with a raised eyebrow, "I'd appreciate it if you two left your orgasms away from where I shower." They snickered a bit, then paused- "Oh, the manorah. It's in the garage. Didn't crack at all, so it should be good for painting."

Finch flushed, giving him a small shamed salute, "Cool," he said in a small voice.

Max gave a thumbs up, taking a bite of the bagel- were those raisins? -and headed to the living room.

Buttons hummed as he came downstairs, blinking when Max stopped him. He nodded, blushing a little, then moved over to Finch. "Well, we weren't quiet," He mumbled, a little embarrassed.

"I know, I thought we'd done at least a fairly good job," Finch blushed, putting his face in Buttons' neck. "Hopefully he's the only one who heard."

Buttons chuckled, keeping close, "Hopefully." He hummed, looking over, "What do you wanna eat~?" He was thinking about the different things they had, humming.

"Whatcha got?" Finch mumbled into his neck.

Buttons shifted, an arm around Finch's waist while the other opened the fridge, "Egg, bread, bacon... more bread in the form of bagel." He chuckled a bit.

"Bacon... Egg.. cheese...

," Finch said slowly, rising from Buttons' chest dramatically slow.

Buttons snickered, kissing Finch's forehead again before going for the bagels, "Plain or cinnamon raisin?"

"Plain, please~" Finch said, leaning against the counter as he watched. It was cold... "Would you,

, have hot chocolate we can make?"

Buttons let out a

hum, taking out two bagels. He took a breath to continue the hum as he put them into the toaster, going back and taking out the jug of milk. He finally broke the hum, "You want the weird powder stuff or actual chocolate syrup?"

"Hmmmmmm, weird powder stuff

chocolate syrup," Finch grinned, rubbing his gay little hands together.

Buttons gasped dramatically, "Oh, that's

He moved to get two mugs, pouring the milk into both. "Marshmallows or nah?" He put the milk back, going for the syrup and a packet of powder.

"What kind of man do you take me for, Benjamin. Of course marshmallows," Finch said dramatically

"I take you for a man who likes marshmallows, Patrick," Buttons answered, eyebrows raised as he moved to pour the cold milk from both mugs into a bigger cup, and put that in the microwave.

"Good," Finch grinned, draping himself over Button's shoulders, maybe needing to stand a little bit on his toes to do so.

Buttons crouched a little, giggling.

Finch stayed on him totally not dozing off again until the microwave went off. "Benny, the microwave went off," he said as if it weren't obvious, not moving a muscle.

"You koala," Buttons hummed happily, going to take out the milk. He poured it back into the mugs, putting the respective chocolates in the mugs and stirring. He went for the mallows, humming, "Careful~ It's hot~." He relaxed, happy with Finch.

Finch hummed happily, basking in the warmth of the mug, taking a small sip. "Ow." He blew on it a little and took another sip. Still hot.

"I said careful," Buttons giggled, kissing Finch's head.

Buttons didn't notice how his mother was by the doorway, smiling softly and watching her son just being happy in love.

"But it's so good," Finch pouted, taking another sip and ignoring his burning taste buds, not noticing her either. He jumped a little bit as the toaster went off, but managed not to spill the hot chocolate. He pressed a kiss to Buttons' shoulder as he set the mug down to get them. Again, not caring about the hot.

"Babe!" Buttons squeaked, moving to grab Finch gently and pull him back. "Heat, love.

"Hungry, babe.

," Finch grinned. "Fire cannot kill a dragon~"

"You're a bird," Buttons snickered, carefully popping out the bagels onto a plate. "You want any butter or cream cheese?"

"Crem chez," Finch giggled, snuggling into his back. "And of course I'm a bird, thaz why dey calls me Finch~"

"I thouz dey callz ya Finch cuz you sing like a preddy birdie~," Buttons hummed, going to get the cream cheese and putting it carefully on the bagel. He perked up when his mom laughed softly, blushing. His mom hummed, going to make a mug of coffee.

Finch snorted at that, flushing a little when he realized she was there. "Good morning, ma'am," he said quietly, still a little shy around her.

The woman laughed a little, "Jess is fine, dear."

Buttons handed Finch the bagel, kissing his forehead anyway. She seemed to soften at that, happy that her son was happy.

Finch nodded softly, taking the bagel happily, taking a bite.

She hummed, "I'm going out today with your father. Don't burn the house down."

Jess moved to kiss Button's cheek, and he smiled a little, "Have fun."

"Thanks," She hummed, getting the cup and moving off.

Finch waved, leaning back against Buttons as he ate his bagel. "We gonna have a cook day?" he asked.

"Yup," Buttons beamed. He put some cream cheese on his bagel, taking a bite and sipping happily from his mug. Hot chocolate and bagels.

Finch finished one half of the bagel when he remembered. "Oh, yeah!" He ran out to the garage with no further explanation.

He picked up the menorah carefully, happily checking over it.

"Hum?" Buttons just let the other run off, continuing to eat his breakfast. He shifted to see what ingredients they had, a bit worried they might not have everything.

Finch was quite happy with it, and the dreidels had turned out pretty good as well. He left them there, already thinking of the colors he'd paint them. "They turned out great!" he said happily as he came back into the kitchen.

Buttons smiled, "That's good! So then maybe while things are cooking we can paint? Is there any baking involved?" He looked over, eyebrow raised.

"Latkes will be quick to make, I think it's literally just prep and mix the ingredients and then fry them. Donuts are a little longer to make the dough, but cook quickly once thats done. Overall, prolly would only take... two hours roughly? Well, actually less if we're workin' together and doing them at the same time." Finch explained, pulling up recipes on his phone. "Then we'd be done, and we can paint," he smiled happily.

"Alright... Frier." He reached down, pulling out the long rectangular frier. He set it on the counter, taking the basket out, and making sure it was clean before pouring in the oil. He hummed, plugging it in and covering it up so it would be ready to use later. "Alright, explain away~."

Finch nodded, reading over the instructions of both. "Yeah, we have to leave the dough out to rise for an hour, so it would be best to do that first."In a small bowl, combine the yeast, 1 tablespoon flour, 1 tablespoon sugar, and water. Mix well, cover, and allow to rest until the mixture becomes foamy," he read aloud. "In another large bowl, mix the remaining 3 cups of flour with the melted margarine, salt, remaining sugar, and the egg yolks."

Buttons was grabbing ingredients, putting them up, "Alright, uh... Do we need the same stuff for other things?"

"For the latkes, its shredded potatos, grated onion, eggs, flour, salt, and peanut oil," Finch read. "Oh, and jelly and powdered sugar for the donut filling and topping."

"Oh boy," Buttons laughed, looking around. "I'll do my best."

Finch grinned at him, "Do we need ta go to the store for anything?"

"Uhhhhh I don't

so...?" Buttons pulled out the potatoes and onions.

"Okay, cool," Finch beamed, rolling up his sleeves. He set the phone in between them on the counter, looking around. "Measuring cups..."

"Cabinet right of the oven," Buttons answered, bringing things over.

Finch went and grabbed the cups, getting a couple bowls down too. "Gotta melt the butter down," he said to Buttons. "A fourth of a cup." He started reading the directions again, following them as he measured out a small amount of flour and sugar, double checking this was right. Yeah, the rest went in the other bowl.

Buttons went to cut the butter, putting it in a bowl and popping it in the microwave in intervals, not wanting it to explodé.

Finch stuck his tongue out a little in focus, making sure it was all measured and mixed right before he covered it to rest a little while he measured out the mixture for the larger bowl.

Buttons moved to bring the butter, helping measure and mix where he could. He was enjoying helping, following with a hum.

Finch smiled at him. This was nice, and quite peaceful. The house itself was quiet, although he could hear some commotion that sounded like playing outside. He'd already managed to get flour on his shirt and a little on his face, but that was okay.

As they continued, Buttons noticed the flour on his love's face. He got a rag and licked it, and when Finch wasn't paying attention he moved to scrub the flour off before setting the rag down and continuing in what he was doing, humming softly.

"Gross, cooties," Finch teased jokingly, glancing at him as he whisked the mixture.

Buttons rolled his eyes, "Oh, yeah, 'course. You're infected now."

Finch giggled, huffing as he kept whisking. "You know, I just realized that this has to turn from a liquid to a solid."

"So how much mixing do we gotta go?" Buttons said with wide eyes.

Finch looked down at the bowl. "I realize now that usually a mixer would be used for this. Do you have one by any chance?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhh....." Buttons moved around, trying to find it, and he eventually did... Oh jeez. He started climbing the counter, standing on top as he got it, putting it on to the sink. He moved down carefully, but of course he slipped. He yelped, crashing to the floor, thankfully only falling on his side. "Ow..." He mumbled.

Finch yelped, quickly setting the bowl on the counter and kneeling beside him. "Are you okay??" he asked worriedly, carefully helping him sit up.

"Yeah, all good," He managed, laughing a little in disbelief. "Usually I don't fall over," He managed, rubbing his arm. "Oof..." He looked at Finch, "I'm good."

"Are you sure?" Finch asked, clearly disbelieving that he was really all okay.

"Yeah, yeah... Hold on." He gently nudged Finch away, stretching out his arm and rolling it around, then bending his joints, making sure his shoulder and elbow were okay. He nodded, "Yeah, all good, just sore." He chuckled, "Body fat really out here saving my bones." He gently moved closer to Finch again, "I'm good."

"Should I kiss it better?" Finch said a little cheekily after making sure he really was okay.

Buttons blinked. He held out his arm, "My bownes weally wurt, dey's needin' twu wuv's kiss."

Finch snorted, taking his wrist tenderly and pressing small kisses up his forearm before looking at him, still holding his wrist loosely. "Anywhere else?" he said with a cheeky grin that had his mother seen, would think he looked just like his father.

"How about here?" Buttons said softly, pointing at his lips.

"Oh, of course, it's dangerous to let those go unkissed~" Finch teased as he pulled Buttons forward a little while leaning in himself, kissing him tenderly.

Buttons hummed happily in the kiss, moving his arms around Finch's shoulders and pulling the other in for a bit of a longer kiss.

Finch hummed, leaning in a little more into him, deepening it a little.

Junior just wanted a snack. Just a snack, not a scar for life. He ran into the kitchen, not expecting, of course, to see his older brother making out on the floor with his boyfriend. "Eeeewww, gross!" he shouted, covering his eyes maybe peeking.

Amy snorted behind him, "Do I ever want to know how you two ended up there?"

Finch had pulled away from him, flushing a little as he stood up quickly and helped Buttons up, "He, uh, he fell, I was helping him up."

"I've never helped anyone up like that before," Amy chuckled, going to the fridge with raised eyebrows.

"Do you guys always kiss?" Junior asked, wrinkling his nose.

Buttons

blushing bright red and still leaning into Finch. He managed to stand with the other, letting go carefully, and glaring a bit at Amy. He looked back at Junior, "Yeah. People kiss people that they love." He was calming down, trying to ignore his burning blush.

"Someone at my school got in trouble cause he was kissing a girl," Junior said, taking the applesauce Amy handed to him.

You could almost see the struggle on Finch's face not to say "cause being straight is illegal" as a joke. Amy looked like she might be holding back a retort of her own.

"Well, that's not fair," Buttons answered, "Unless the guy or the girl were already with someone. Or they were supposed to be in class." He smiled a bit.

"He was playing a joke on her I think..." June looked confused for a second as he thought of something. "Wait, but I love Mom and Dad but I don't kiss them?"

"Well, you kiss their cheeks- but you save lip kisses for people you're thinking about marrying-" oh. "-I MEAN. AS IN. SPENDING YOUR LIFE WITH THEM- I MEAN... Yeah I'm not making this any better," He muttered, head down in defeat.

"Oooohhh, okay!" Junior seemed content with that. "I'm gonna play Sims now." He took his snack and walked out.

"Well, you two seem busy enough in here," Amy said, a knowing look on her face as she too walked out.

Finch looked back at Buttons with raised eyebrows. "What was that you were saying?" he teased, leaning into him. "What, you havin' some ideas in that brain a your's?"

Buttons nodded, huffing at Amy, and then turning bright red. "I been having ideas, Finch. Don't get too excited about them, they ain't for a long while," He huffed, gently nudging the other, seriously trying to calm down his blush. He whined, putting his face in his hands. Stupid Jan.

Finch giggled, nudging one of Buttons' hands away with his nose to kiss his cheek. Weirdly enough, he wasn't bothered by the idea. The idea of spending the rest of his life like this... it was tempting, really.

Buttons blinked, shifting to kiss Finch gently. "One day," He murmured.

"I wouldn't mind that," Finch murmured softly back, staying where he was for a moment before kissing his cheek once more before going back to start the mixer up.

Buttons' eyes lit up at that, and smiled a bit as Finch moved off. He was just standing there stunned, watching the other happily. "Have I told you how much I love you?" He hummed, head tilting to the side.

"I believe you might have mentioned it once or twice," Finch giggled, glancing back at him. "I might need help figuring out how to use this, by the way."

"Oh fuck-" Buttons laughed, going over to set it up.

Finch helped the best he could, and after a... couple minutes, it was running smoothly and mixing the batter. And soon it was turning into a dough. "Had I done that by hand, I would have been absolutely jacked by the end," he giggled.

"Yeah, you could be using your hand for something else," He smirked.

"Gross, gutter-brain," Finch snickered, pushing him lightly. When the mixture was looking doughy, he got the dough off the whisk and covered it with a towel, setting it to the side to prove. "Well, that's there for about two hours, so wanna make the latkes?"

"Sure~," Buttons hummed, going to set up the next stuff.

"Potatos, eggs, flour, salt, mix em together and thats it, ya just just fry em after that."

"Alright," Buttons said, starting to pour things in.

Finch leaned against him, helping where he could but maybe just kinda cuddling him.

Buttons enjoyed the cuddles, blinking as he uncovered the frier. He put things in the basket, moving it into the frier and covering it again. "How long do we wait?"

"Doesn't say... Prolly gotta watch 'em, just said turn 'em when they're golden brown," Finch said.

"Alright... I guess," Buttons murmured. He took the basket out and turned things over before putting it back.

Finch nuzzled into him. watching and directing him to the shaping of them, happy and warm.

Buttons followed, humming along. By the end, they had a nice plate of them. "What should I do with these?" He hummed.

"Let 'em cool, nom nom yam-aka," Finch giggled.

He rolled his eyes, setting them in the microwave. "Y'think the dough's done? How long did that take?"

"Like... 30 minutes. So we got a while longer," Finch murmured, still nuzzling him.

Buttons turned, wrapping his arms around Finch and nuzzling him closer, humming softly.

"Wanna paints the dreidels?" Finch suggested.

"Alrighty," He murmured, kissing Finch's forehead, moving with the other but still keeping an arm around his waist.

Finch led him along to the garage. He took the slightly wonky one, hiding it in his hand and pushing the other (slightly better) one to Buttons. "See, they turned out great!" (Not pointing out that he'd given Buttons the one that he'd made, of course.)

"Finch," Buttons said, deadpan, "I'm not dumb. The one I made had an indent right there."

Finch clicked his tongue, putting Buttons' back on the table. "Yours is still good too," he said with a smile.

Buttons looked at his, beaming, "Fuck, it came out better than I thought it would." He went to try to spin it, and it was a little sloppy, but it worked!!

Finch beamed, going to find the paints. He did after a few moments, bringing the bin over and setting it down on the table between them.

"Alright, you gotta teach me what to paint," Buttons giggled.

"I can shows ya, but I'm gonna paint mine first~" Finch grabbed the blue, getting one of the brushes and starting to paint one side of it. "Once it dries, we can paint the symbols and the top on."

"Alright." Buttons copied, painting his as well.

Once he'd painted the sides, he watched Buttons, blowing on it to dry faster.

Buttons waved his gently in the air to dry it off, humming softly. He then went and painted a stripe of blue on Finch's cheek.

Finch squinted, slowly leaned in, took Buttons face... and he kissed him sweetly. Then while he was distracted, did a quick two dots and a curve to paint a smiley face on his cheek.

Buttons blinked, and then melted into the kiss a bit. He giggled, looking over in a mirror at the smiley. "Y'know what, that's fair," He laughed.

Finch laughed softly, grabbing his chin to turn his head a little, painting a little heart on his other cheek.

Buttons hummed, letting Finch do as he pleased. He looked in the mirror again, gasping. "Oh no. My reputation!!"

"Oh, and what reputation is that, hah?" Finch asked, kissing his lips softly since his cheeks now had paint on them.

"Me being a big tough button," Buttons pouted.

"Aw, poor babe," Finch giggled. "Everyone already knows you're a big softie~" He poked his cheek where it wasn't painted.

Buttons puffed out his cheeks, then giggled and went to normal, kissing Finch, "Whoopsies~."

Finch giggled, then turned his head back to the dreidel in his hand. He tested it, and the paint was dried. So he set it down to pull up the symbols on his phone, figuring he would go ahead and explain the game while they was painting, but he grabbed the silver paint first.

Buttons listened to the explanation, following along and asking questions where he was confused. He looked excited to be playing the new game, almost buzzing in place.

"Ya got the coins, or sometimes, like my family did it, we'd use some sorta candy like M&Ms or somethin', and ya give everyone an equal amount, we usually agreed on seven each," Finch explained as he found smaller brushes for them, handing one to Buttons. "This one," he gestured to the symbol on the phone as he started carefully painting it on one of the sides, "Is Nun. Easy 'nough to remember, nun does nothin', if ya roll it, you just pass to the next player."

Buttons quickly realized they were going to have to expose Finch to the Candy Shelf. He tried to hide the slight panic as he focused.

"Gimmel," Finch explained, too focused to notice, "means ya 'get'. Land on this and you take the whole middle pot, and everyone else has ta put two coins in to make a new pot."

Buttons nodded again, humming.

"Hey is half, so ya take half the pot." Finch paused to finish the symbol before continuing. "And Shin is share, so you'd put two coins in the pot."

"Alright, that all makes sense," Buttons hummed, trying to think. "Are you allergic to anything?"

"Nope," Finch said as he finished painting the top of the dreidel silver before blowing it.

"Phew," Buttons murmured, following all the symbols as he painted them on. "I may or may not have a sacred thing to show you in the kitchen."

Finch looked up at that, "And what's that?"

"It may or may not include something to play this game with," Buttons said casually, blowing on his dreidel to dry it off.

Finch was intrigued. He touched the paint, dry. He spun it, and it twirled for a good moment before it landed. "Gimmel, I take the pot~"

"If you eat all the candy, I think my family will throw me out of the house," Buttons giggled, kissing Finch's nose before motioning for the other to follow him back to the kitchen. He'd completely forgotten about the paint on his face.

Finch snickered, following him. "That's alright, I already took my prize this mornin'," he teased.

Buttons gasped, looking offended, "But don't you want it every morning??"

"Every mornin' sounds nice~" Finch grinned.

Buttons smiled, moving to kiss Finch gently before going to the cabinet. With a dramatic, shakey hand, he opened it and pointed to the top shelf. ... That's a lot of candy. Who needs that many different types of M&Ms???

“Oh my god,” Finch snickered. “It’s a whole treasure trove! Ya got that marked on a map somewhere?”

"Come over for Easter," Buttons answered ominously.

"What's Easter?" Finch joked, putting an arm around him. "I bet it's insane with all a that chocolate."

"Oh gosh it's fun," Buttons giggled.

"I just know that when the egg bunnies come out, means chocolate's on sale soon," Finch snickered.

"No, it means you get to run around collecting eggs and get

chocolate," Buttons clarified.

"I'm a Jew, this holiday isn't for me, therefore I gotta pay ta get in on it," Finch said, nudging him with a grin.

"Sh, I'll sneak you in," Buttons giggled, "Like sneaking people in the movie theater for a free movie."

Finch giggled, leaning into him. "Are there like... rules?" Cause like legitimately other than the commercialized stuff he wasn't sure how it was celebrated.

"Nah, just don't steal the little kid’s candy," Buttons hummed.

"Huh. There's like.. no rituals or nothin'?" Finch asked a little confused. "Ya don't go ta church?"

"Finch, we're not 'go to church every Sunday' Christians, in case you hadn't noticed," Buttons smirked.

"Well yeah, but like most Jewish holidays you'd go ta temple at least once ta pray," Finch said.

Buttons shrugged a bit, "Well, we don't usually go."

"Huh... alright," Finch shrugged. He looked at the time, at the bowl. "We still got a while before that's done so... We could start paintin' the menorah," he suggested.

"Alrighty~," Buttons hummed, following Finch back to the garage.

Finch started working on painting, not realizing he'd started humming softly as he made sure to get in the indents of the swirls.

Buttons watched, cuddled into Finch's back, watching and listening in a soft amazement.

" His voice was soft and sweet, his lips barely moving, still looking unaware of what he was doing as his hands moved. "

Buttons was melting. Buttons was so in love

He snuggled closer, quietly listening, not wanting to break the spell.

" Finch had starting riffing Zendaya's lines, realizing what he was doing. He blinked, looking at Buttons shyly. "S-sorry," he said sheepishly, a bit of a blush on his face.

"Don't gotta apologize," Buttons murmured, "Like I said; your voice is beautiful." He was loving listening to the other, snuggled close.

Finch's blush only grew at that, and he was too shy to continue, squirming a little bit in a little bit of embarrassment as if this didn't happen all the time.

Buttons laughed softly, nuzzling into Finch's neck. "C'mon, little bird... You can keep singing~."

Finch squeaked at the nickname, totally red now. "Noooo, it's embarrassing...."

"No it's not~," Buttons cooed, kissing Finch's neck. "It's adorable is what it is, birdie~."

"Stooooopp," Finch whined, getting even more flustered.

"Ooooh," Buttons smirked, kissing again, "I don't wanna stop, little birdie~."

"Anyone who says you're innocent obviously has never been in my position," Finch muttered, trying to paint even with the rising heat.

Buttons snickered, "I'm just a guy who sews." He shifted to actually lick Finch's neck slightly before moving away teasingly, going over to another box on the shelf. He brought it out, setting it on the table, "Speaking of..." He opened it, starting to shuffle through the stuff, curious.

Finch shivered at that, squirming in his seat, glancing at him with a pout before he started painted again.

Buttons froze when he found something. He slowly pulled out a tiny dress, looking at it a bit fondly. "Hey, Finch... When we get our own place, can we get a dog? Maybe a cat, too..." He smiled softly. It was definitely a dog dress.

"I never had a dog before, you'd hafta help me figure out how ta take care of it. But I don't mind," Finch said, looking up.

Buttons looked excited for that, buzzing a bit. "Either we get a dog, or kids." He snickered a bit at that, eyebrow raised towards Finch.

"Why not both?" Finch grinned. "Prolly would hafta wait a while for that one though...." he said a little more seriously. "I wouldn't wanna fuck up a kid..." He looked away, going back to his painting.

"We wouldn't fuck up a kid," Buttons said seriously, pausing in his little search. He looked at Finch, slight concern in his eyes. "'Course we'd wait, there's some stuff I gotta do first." He hid a smirk as he looked down again, "Oh- found it." He pulled out a bracelet from when he dabbled in jewelry. It was a silver band that had beads that looked like they were made from string. He set it on the table, humming as he slid it over to Finch.

Finch glanced up at it, a smile playing at his lips, "What's this?"

"A bracelet," Buttons said matter-of-factly.

"Well, duh, but why're ya givin' it to me?" Finch asked curiously.

"'Cause I want you to wear it," Buttons said softly.

Finch rolled his eyes a little, but slid it onto his wrist. "Happy, you dork?"

"Extremely," Buttons whispered, looking at Finch with a new smile, then covered up the box again and setting it away. He moved over, wrapping his arms around Finch's waist and and cuddling into his back, looking like a Soft Button™.

Finch sighed softly, looking back at him as he leaned back into him. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips, content and happy.

Buttons leaned into the kiss with a soft smile, nuzzling close. He looked over to the Menorah, "It's beautiful."

"Yeah?" Finch asked, looking over at it. "I'll paint the bottom and the Star gold, think it'll go pretty good with the blue and silver. I mean, ya know, Hanukkah colors," he smiled.

"It'll be amazing." He gently kissed Finch's cheek, "I'm gonna go try to bring down the candy and not fall over." He walked back into the house, looking relaxed.

Jan walked in through the back door a few minutes later, "Oh, hey! Wow, that looks nice." She looked over, whistling. Her eyes went to the bracelet as she watched him paint, and breathed out a soft, "Oh wow... He gave you it..."

Finch looked up, following her gaze to the bracelet. "Yeah, he just slid it over, wouldn't tell me why."

Jan hummed at that, leaning over the table again, "When he was first getting into crafts, he made his own string wefts. He'd buy the little folded things, and wind them into a tight ball. He got the idea to make them into beads, even if it was a big waste of string. He was so proud of the bracelet 'cause it'd taken so long to make each bead." Her gaze fell, "He was in either elementary or middle school, on the edge there. He brought it to school, and someone stole it. Basically, that was his first fist fight. He was so ashamed when Mom came to get him out of detention, but he also realized that he needed to hide precious things. He started keeping a lot of secrets after that. We didn't realize he had a box of sewing things until he went to college." She added the last part with a chuckle, rubbing her legs together. "He hid it, and he swore that he'd never let it go and only let someone he truly loved even see it again. He of course showed us before he hid it away... I've seen him eye the box when he was in other relationships, but he never took the bracelet out for them."

Finch listened in interest, his mouth falling open a little at the last part. He blinked, looking down at the bracelet he wore, fiddling with the beads that baby Buttons had so painstakingly crafted.

Jan chuckled softly, watching. "Yeah... I never expected him to touch the thing, honestly... I thought he forgot about it." She chuckled softly, shifting and standing up again. "Anyways, I'll leave you to painting," She hummed softly, going inside.

Finch smiled softly, reaching his hand up and kissing the bracelet softly before he went back to painting. Within a few more minutes, he'd finished, setting it down and looking over it with a happy grin.

Buttons came back in, humming, the smiley face washed off but the heart still there. He moved over, gasping softly and putting an arm around Finch's waist. "When it dries, we'll light it. Where do you think we should put it?" He looked excited, kissing Finch's cheek before going to find some candles.

"Wherever your mom says is okay. Usually by a window, though," Finch beamed.

"Alright, I know just the spot then," Buttons giggled. He moved to put the metal cups into the slots, and then put the candles into those, not lighting them but letting them sit there. He moved to pick it up like it was glass, being extremely careful with it (and not touching the paint too much) as he brought it into the house. There was a nice high table next to a window with two shelves under it that had books, and there was a white tablecloth over it already. He carefully set it down, smiling a bit and showing Finch.

Finch smiled, his eyes soft as he looked at it. It was almost bittersweet to see something that reminded him so strongly of home. "We'll hafta light six of 'em now, then the seventh when it gets dark."

"Alright... Let's wait until the paint fully dries, I don't wanna mess it up." Buttons moved to Finch's side again, an arm around his love's waist as he kissed Finch's temple happily.

Finch turned, nuzzling into his neck. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you, too," Buttons murmured just as softly, cuddling Finch close, happy with the other.

"Jan told me what this bracelet is, by the way," he said softly, kissing his neck just as lightly.

Buttons shifted, blushing a little, going, "Ah, well that takes away the mystery..." His voice was soft, and he shifted to nuzzle closer gently.

"Wish I had somethin' like that I could give you," Finch sighed, his grip squishing a little tighter on his boyfriend, his best friend, his lover. He wanted something he could give to him.

"You being here is more than enough, Patrick," Buttons said softly, shifting to look at the other, "You just letting me love you, loving me, that's more than I could ever ask for."

Finch couldn't bring himself to pretend he wasn't tearing up at that. He brought one of his hands to Buttons' cheek, holding him softly. "I used ta think I wouldn't find no one," he admitted softly. "That maybe I wasn't meant to have someone like that loving me... You sure proved me wrong."

Buttons smiled a little at that, moving to kiss Finch gently, "Glad I did." He kissed Finch again, holding the other closer, pressing their foreheads together lovingly.

Finch sat happily in his embrace, content to stay there like that forever.

"So, should we check on the dough, or just cuddle on the couch?" Buttons hummed, content in Finch's arms.

"Hmmmm, my heart says cuddle but my mind says check on the dough, otherwise we'll forget about it entirely," Finch murmured.

"Hmmmm what a dilemma," Buttons hummed, gently shifting to kiss Finch lightly. "Well, I feel like there'll be plenty of time for us to cuddle," He said softly, nuzzling against the other. He still couldn't bring himself to move, though.

"Mhm..." Finch hummed back, not moving a muscle and not really intending to.

"Oh jeez, we're gonna stay like this forever, huh?" Buttons mumbled tiredly, feeling warm and cozy even though they were standing. He took a few shuffled steps towards the couch, sitting and pulling Finch to sit on top of him, laying down and pulling Finch close.

"Oh no," Finch murmured, nuzzling into his neck happily.

"A tragedy," Buttons breathed softly, kissing Finch's forehead, "Stuck forever cuddling the love of my life."

"Mmm, doesn't sound too bad, when ya put it like that," Finch said softly, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat when he called him the love of his life.

"No, it doesn't," Buttons murmured, nuzzling closer and his eyes closing.

Finch hummed happily, burrowing into the crook of love's neck and dozing off quickly.

Amy came downstairs a little bit later to see them curled up. She shook her head softly, chuckling to herself as she took pictures for blackmail (or really cause she knew her mom would think they were cute) went into the kitchen, finding the mess they'd left and a proved dough ready to bake. Jesus, they'd even left the fryer on. She went over, inspecting the scene, and when she found the latkes in the microwave, she figured pretty easily they'd been making donuts. She rolled up her sleeves, going to work, I mean, she wasn't doing anything else anyways.

Junior came in a little bit later, curious, and started helping, both being quiet as to not wake the sleeping two. When they were done, Amy covered the donuts in a cling film, presented nicely on a plate, before they cleaned up and went back to their rooms.

Buttons had woken up first, but was starting lovingly at Finch. He moved his hand to rub the other's back gently, just lost in thought about how much he loved the other. Having Finch come over had really slammed things into perspective, and he decided right there that he could genuinely spend the rest of his life with this man.

Finch hummed sorta how a cat does when you suddenly touch it while it's dozing, stirring at the movement. He sighed, cuddling deeper into him.

Buttons bit back a laugh, continuing to rub Finch's back softly. He was just laying there, soaking in the affection, loving having the other there with him.

"I wuv you~" Finch murmured happily into his neck, pressing a soft kiss there.

Buttons giggled softly, "I wuv you too~." He was just relaxed and happy, curling Finch a little closer. "I think we passed out," He said quietly, looking around tiredly.

"What time is it?" he asked. "Ah, the dough mighta been sittin' too long..."

"Y'wanna go check on it?" He hummed, gently nudging Finch to sit up.

Finch grumbled at the nudge, but got off of him. He went to the kitche- What. He blinked. Their mess was gone, and there was. The donuts??? All nicely arranged on a plate????? "Wh- did I go crazy or somethin', we didn't finish them, did we?" he said, bewildered and not considering there were other people in the house.

Buttons got up, going over. "The Fae must'a come," He breathed, "Or my siblings." He snickered a bit, going over, kind of wanting one, but looking at Finch.

"Well....." Finch scooted over to the plate, sneaking one of the donut balls and biting into it. He squeaked as jelly almost dropped down his chin.

Buttons tried very hard. He was really trying. But he moved forwards, licking up Finch's chin. "Oh, that's good," He hummed, going to get a donut ball for himself and popping it into his mouth.

Finch giggled. "I think we did good~ Well, us and whoever finished 'em."

Buttons nodded happily, still chewing since he had literally shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

Finch popped the rest of his in his mouth, humming. He opened the microwave, getting one of the latkes to taste test it too. He nodded in approval with a grin, offering to Buttons.

Buttons made an 'ooo' sound, taking one of the latkes and eating it. "Wow, that's good," He said, doing a happy wiggle.

"Hey, and I bet the paint's dry, so we can light some of the candles now to get ready for when it's night," Finch said, nudging him.

Buttons perked up at that, looking around and grabbing a lighter. He handed it to Finch, nudging the other back, "C'mon, then~!"

Finch was excited, he hadn't been able to actually light a menorah in years. "Light the top candle, that's what we use to light the others."

Buttons blinked, and walked over with the other. He looked at the top candle, lighting it for Finch, looking excited.

Finch took the candle, carefully lighting six of them. "Usually, we'd light them one a night, but it's the seventh night, so when it gets dark we'll light the next one," he explained as he did, setting the candle back on the top. He stepped back and looked at it. Oh. There was a look in his eyes for a moment, of a deep sadness and longing, before he blinked and looked back at Buttons. "Pretty, ain't it?"

Buttons had seen it, and he carefully moved an arm around Finch, "Yeah, it is."

"Well, what trouble are we getting up to now in the meantime, hah?" Finch asked, poking his side.

Buttons looked over at a clock, shrugging, "Looks like it's only 3..." He looked at Finch, poking the other back.

"Hmmmmmmm....." Finch nuzzled back into him. "Then we got a while. Whatchu wanna do~?"

"I dunno, what do you wanna do~?" Buttons hummed, nuzzling back as he curled Finch closer, kissing the other's forehead happily.

Finch hummed. "Cuddle while I work on the animation?"

"Upstairs we go~," Buttons giggled, taking Finch's hand and moving back up to his room. He waited for Finch to settle down with the laptop and drawing tablet before going to settle behind the other again, cuddling into his back happily while scrolling through his phone.

Finch pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before settling down and starting to draw the base sketches.

Buttons was relaxed, just cuddling the other and looking through tumblr. He did make a post- "cuddling bf while he draws. never been more gay in my life."

Finch hummed softly, not thinking about it as he focused on the anatomy of the drawings.

Buttons snorted softly, going to reblog it and adding:

Buttons smiled softly, kissing Finch's neck before going back to scrolling.

#Newsies #finch cortez #buttons davenport #finch newsies #buttons newsies #wow also looking back over it on my blog tumblr really just like murdered the formatting huh #oh well i dont really wanna look through all of it to fix it

28 notes · View notes

reylofanfictionanthology · 6 years ago

Photo

After the Blazing Fire Dies: the 2019 Reylo Fanfiction Anthology Gift Fic Master Post Part Two

The After the Blazing Fire Dies Collection on AO3 | Gift Fic Masterpost Part One | Treats Masterpost

Home by Anonymous for methusalahoneysuckle

What does it mean to forgive a parent? What does it take to let go of a rage that feels so righteous? Or, How finding love for Ben Solo meant confronting his past, and finally learning to let go.

eight nights into forever by Anonymous for MissCoppelia

Rey has never had a family, has never known what it truly feels like to have a home. Then she meets Ben Solo, ten years her elder and entirely too handsome, he seems to be as taken with her as she is with him. A year into their romance he invites her to spend Hanukkah with his family in the United States and Rey, for the first time in her life, is faced with family... ...and a steamy night spent in Ben's childhood bedroom.

An avalanche of hopes and dreams. by Anonymous for MizuPhoenix

Rey sets off to find an ancient artifact, that might help the Resistance obtain victory and peace. But when Rey gets lost in a blizzard, and finds that Kylo Ren is once again right on her tracks, she rushes off into a cave. They end up caught inside, and need to find a way not to kill each other long enough to survive their current situation. Will they be able to pull it off?

Asleep now, and silent by Anonymous for monsterleadmehome

Rey Nolan takes Intro to Automotive Repair course at Coruscant Community College from Han Solo, intending to learn how to fix cars, and gains a pair of surrogate parents instead. Only trouble is, Han and Leia's son, Ben, is as hot as he is infuriating. And he makes her feel so uncomfortable, makes her want things she cant entirely put into words. But he always seems so cold to her, so rude. It's clear as day what he thinks of her, and it isn't favorable, so her crush simmers in silence. When the Organa-Solos invite Rey up for a winter getaway to their family's cabin, she doesn't realize Ben is coming, too. What's worse than having to spend six hours in a car with your crush, who hates you? Getting snowed in with him, that's what.

Signed, Future Kylo by Anonymous for Nervoustouch

It was just supposed to be some low-key spying, but once Rey realized that she could leave things for Kylo through the Force bond, how could she let the opportunity to let out her inner prankster go? What she didn’t expect, though, was that he would confront her about it.

Smiles and Shoulders by Anonymous for NewerConstellations

"Rey had just turned to head back to her desk, water bottle in hand, when she saw Ben Solo walk in. Just who she wanted to run into after an unpleasant morning of being poked and prodded by her gynecologist. Ben Solo was part of the First Order team that had come along when Resistance Games recently merged with First Order Entertainment. He was made project manager of the combined Quality Assurance team, Rey’s department, which meant he helped document and assign the bugs that made up each QA tester’s workflow. He was grouchy, and he usually sent important bugs last minute or just horribly documented, making everything harder for the team, especially during sprints. Over the three months they’ve been working together, she’d called Ben out on his terrible practices repeatedly, and each time he’d just challenge her to get the work done or steal his job. Which is why it surprised her now when she saw Ben give her a quick once over and his cheeks turned red..."

The Ways We Choose to Survive by Anonymous for Noppoh

"What's happening to me?" Part of his heart sinks. Part of it sparks something closer to alive. "You're a vampire now," he says. "I'm sorry."

Give and Take by Anonymous for OccasionallyCreative

Kylo Ren, Ben-- he knew not what his name ought to be now, at the end of everything safe and known--felt the familiar, tell-tale sting of newly conjured tears as he stared into his dysmorphic reflection shining up at him from a set of golden dice. His father’s dice. He shuddered a gasp, ignoring how his tears now trickled from the corners of his eyes, dripping into the crevasses of his face.

Degrees and Galaxies by Anonymous for okaypianist

Ben could think of numerous other things he would rather be doing than spending an afternoon working on a paper. That all changes when he bumps into Rey. Maybe spending the day at the coffee shop isn't the worst way to spend his time.

we decided not to kill the wolves (we wanted to be wolves) by Anonymous for PalenDrome

A pack of wolves lives in the woods to the north of Raddus and as winter looms, they have their eyes set on Leia Organa’s stronghold. Rey may be new to Raddus, but she’s not about to do nothing while it may be in danger. And besides, Poe must be exaggerating about wolves the size of bears. She’s not afraid of monsters.

Why? by Anonymous for Pawprinter

A glance across a battlefield.

(won't you) whisper soft and slow by Anonymous for perperuna

ben solo (phd) is a physics professor at university of chandrila. rey jakkuson is an archivist specializing in historical documents from the 20th century who works at the university's library. they have no reason to run into each other ever-- except that rey is the head archivist for a project with letters from the vietnam war, including letters between anakin skywalker and padmé amidala.

Wrong by Anonymous for persimonne

Despite negotiating with the Resistance so that he can marry Rey the second she sets foot on-board his ship, Kylo is reluctant to have sex with her. It may have something to do with the writhing protuberance between his legs, but that's just a guess.

you pierce my soul by Anonymous for pillar_of_salt

It was not common knowledge, held only in the closest confidence by his most intimate associates, that Ben Organa-Solo’s heart had been captured by a Royal Navy captain as thoroughly as she captured and conveyed enemy vessels. However, despite his age and desire to be wed, he allowed himself to be persuaded against the match, for his dearly beloved mother was uncertain as to the young lady’s youth and her son’s proclivities for shouting matches and dueling.

Handcuffed in the Honeymoon Suite by Anonymous for platalet

Ben and Rey are caught breaking into the office of a notorious crime boss on Canto Bight. The boss decides to teach them a lesson in an unorthodox way.

A Smuggler and a Jedi by Anonymous for politicalmamaduck

Can you truly run away from destiny? Ben Solo thought he could after quitting the Jedi academy to get into the smuggling business with his father. However, when a lucrative job offer takes them deep into the territory of the Chiss in wild space, Ben must admit that his connection to the Force is not something he can keep running away from. When Ben comes face-to-face with Rey, a mysterious woman who had been appearing in his dreams, he must make a difficult choice.

The Moments that Belong to Us by Anonymous for PoliticalPadmé

the regency fic no one asked for.

Little Things by Anonymous for punkeraa

Ben is a freelance graphic designer who works out of his basement and prefers to not get involved with anyone. Rey is an amateur general contractor helping her friends flip the house across the street. When Rey tries to do something nice for her new neighbour, she's treated to a lecture and then several days of being avoided.

The Dark Earth Spins Beneath Us by Anonymous for radioactivesaltghoul

Ben's defection from the First Order is supposed to make everything different. And it has, for the most part--better. Except Rey can't seem to catch a moment alone with him, and Ben doesn't seem to be making any efforts to be alone with her. The ghost of Crait still hangs over them, but Rey knows this impasse can't last forever.

I Notice You As You're Noticing Me by Anonymous for rakefire

"JOIN YOUR FRIENDS HERE AT ‘ALL THAT JAZZ’ ON FEB 15TH FOR OUR 2ND ANNUAL SINGLES AWARENESS NIGHT Ladies get ½ priced drinks Gents get ½ priced fries JOIN US AND BE ALONE TOGETHER" Rey and Ben feel a bit lonely on singles awareness day. What could go wrong?

caught in a decaying orbit by Anonymous for redbells

Rey was the conquering hero. Kylo Ren was in a cell and the Resistance was victorious, but it left her wanting.

Mission Possible by Anonymous for reinasolo

Ben Solo, CIA Agent and all around "bad ass" gets an assignment that really should have been a breeze, but a scavenger, a general, a commander, and a trooper ensure it will be anything but easy.

Teaching Miss Niima by Anonymous for Reneemm

Kylo Ren was free. He gave his lectures, graded assignments, and generally kept to himself. He wanted peace and quiet. As much peace and quiet teaching could offer him, at least.He got what he wanted.Then she appeared.Rey Niima was everything he ever desired in a woman, all save for one tiny, insignificant detail. He was her Professor. Moral and ethical quandaries aside, he wanted her.

New Year's Eve with a Girl named Rey by Anonymous for reylocalligraphy

It's New Year's Eve in the bustling city of New York and Kyle plans to spend it alone at work. That is, until he meets a girl named Rey.

lashes by Anonymous for ReyloTrashCompactor

He told her that she should leave it, that she didn’t need to come here. Maybe he was right, but it hadn’t seemed so at the time. No. No, at the time, it had been of the most vital importance that she come here. That she see what had happened here, learn the truth of it for herself, shape it with her own mind and hand and actions. “I know what doing penance looks like,” he’d said in the aftermath. “This won’t help.”

Banana Nut Muffins by Anonymous for Rhizaria

Ben's radio show is all over the place and Rey can't help but call in to comment.

Death Becomes Her by Anonymous for Rhonda3Green

He watches the trickling liquid as it slides down the space between her breasts, fast then slow, along the dip of her belly. It hovers above the fullness of her mons, the single drop refracting the light and green of the canopy above, and all he can think about is how much he wants to capture it on his tongue. To lick the hot salt of her skin, and lose himself in that bright, earthy scent as he breathes her in. He is Death. And she is his.

This Dance of Light, This Sacred Blessing by Anonymous for rissanox

Snapshots in a modern AU.

a flicker in the dark by Anonymous for roamingbadger

Their bond was still there. He could feel it like a flicker of flame at the end of flayed string, still trying to hold on. The burn kept his skin warm. He refused to let it die out.

Game On! (aka Deflowering Doctor Jackass) by Anonymous for SaintHeretical

When Rey is stranded at her bookshop in the middle of an upstate NY snowstorm with a local professor she knows only as "Doctor Jackass", she decides the best way to pass the time is to play a game. And that, of course, leads to other activities.

slip, slip, knit by Anonymous for sciosophia

Honestly, this was not one of her greatest ideas but Rey will make it work.

Serendipity by Anonymous for second_chances

When she had decided to start shepherding the Adept, Rey had made a vow to herself to help them all—even those imprisoned by their own internal darkness. Camouflaged with the cuff, Kylo would never know that Hux’s war dog was closing in on him until it was too late. That was one death she didn’t want weighing down on her conscience. She’d had the opportunity twice to kill him, but she was still convinced his life was not hers to take. The Force still had a plan for Ben Solo, that she was certain, and securing his safety was just as important and making sure the little girl she sought made it off world and survived as well.

The Mistake of the Mailman by Anonymous for shewhospeakswiththunder

Rey's on-campus university address is 'Box 324 Mulberry St, The Bryant Center.' Ben Solo's address is '324 Mulberry St.' And she keeps getting this poor guy's mail.

all flowers in time bend towards the sun by Anonymous for SithishJedi

After months without contact, the force bond opens but something is wrong.

your love could be too much by Anonymous for six4au

Rey, the successful host of the award-winning confessional podcast The Best Policy sits down with a new guest, world famous actor Ben Solo. Except these two are already well acquainted. They broke each other's hearts seven years ago.

The Golden Age by Anonymous for sokki09

Hollywood, 1953. After the press catches wind of yet another crashed car and yet another drunken night on the town, actor Ben Solo has to face facts: his bad-boy image is in need of a serious fix. Pairing him off with a wholesome, up-and-coming actress girlfriend seems like it might just do the trick. They can walk red carpets together, sell the whole relationship thing. And he can get his career back on track. Which is what he wants. Isn't it? Rey Jackson is nothing that he expects, and everything he finds himself wanting. But she's on her way up, a star in the making, and he's... self-destructive, on a good day. Weary of the business, and tired of being who he is. What they have is fake; there's no illusions that it's more than what it is. But what else is the magic of cinema for, if not to allow yourself the chance to dream? OR: here, have a a Golden Age of Hollywood Reylo fake dating AU!

and the snow started falling by Anonymous for SpaceAusten

Oh, that secret that you know / that you don't know how to tell... Trapped by shame and snow, Kylo Ren faces his ghosts.

All At Once by Anonymous for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

The First Order has taken over the planet Neftali in the Soccoro system. Every year, the town of Cordel Cove hosts a winter carnival that culminates in a masquerade ball. The presence of one Supreme Leader has been requested.The Resistance has come to Neftali to strike a deal with a shady organization, using the carnival as a distraction. They send Rey to the masquerade to keep an eye on things. After one too many drinks, the masked man all in black catches her eye and asks for a dance. But what will happen when the masks come off?

I Choose You by Anonymous for spookykingdomstarlight

In the throne room, Rey proposes a counter offer.

Heart of Clay by Anonymous for starlightreader

Rey discovers a very interesting recipe in one of the tomes she's stolen from Luke. While she experiments, Kylo Ren disappears mysteriously.

pianissimo by Anonymous for TheStolenQuill

Rey is a wonderful pianist who just was hired as a court musician. She's nervous enough with her new position, but then she gets entangled with the royal family, especially one Prince Ben.

Magic Rises by Anonymous for thewayofthetrashcompactor

Rey finds lost things. It’s what she does, and what she’s always been able to do. Magical artifacts, prized jewellery, a blue ribbon giant pumpkin, you name it, she can find it. When Leia Organa of House Organa-Solo asks her to find Luke Skywalker, Rey’s sure that Kylo Ren moving in next door isn’t a coincidence. She’s going to have to use all the magic in her arsenal to figure out what’s going on.

Plan B by Anonymous for Tiara_of_Sapphires

Tiara_of_Sapphires asked for "Senator!Rey and Jedi!Ben AU where Rey gets kidnapped for ransom," with some banter and awkward, socially stunted Ben Solo, as well as some good hand-holding and/or forehead kissing action. Hopefully this is lighthearted enough to at least give everyone a bit of a smile. That said, it is unbeta'd, so if it doesn't, that's no one's fault but mine.

Blue Moon Lovers by Anonymous for tigbit

Rey lives a simple life, working at her coffee shop--Resistance. Then her life takes a turn when she meets her neighbor, Leia Organa, and she discovers a past life that is connected to her own. Not to mention that the enigmatic Ben Solo twists her mind and emotions in different directions. Rey will come to learn that sometimes the mistakes of the past can affect the present, and that some are destined to be soulmates.

Somewhere in the Dark by Anonymous for tm2taughtmefamlaw

The world is not as it once was, and bands of survivors struggle to live in the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse. Rey has found a life with Leia’s band of scavengers. Despite the gloomy landscape, it’s a far less tragic and far more boring life than The Walking Dead led her to believe. She’d choose a waning stockpile of toilet paper over Ben Solo any day.

hit me with your best shot for tmwillson3

"So Rey decides to torture him in her own, unique way. She won’t let him ignore her." In which Rey and Ben are rival Quidditch players recruited to play for England in the World Cup.

(I close my eyes and fly out of my mind) Into the Fire by Anonymous for TourmalineGreen

“Alright, SHUT IT!” Rey hollered. “This was important to Leia. We will ALL be participating. Trust requires interaction, right? That’s what we tell our clients, and it’s what we believe, so get over yourselves! You can retreat to your echo chambers next weekend. This week, we are working hand-in-hand with First Order. If it kills us.” OR Scenes from the careers of two people who hope to change the world, one neighborhood at a time. What stands between them again? Oh, right - nothing but pride (and possibly prejudice). Thank heavens someone sees what’s going on.

Crisis Girlfriend by Anonymous for walkingsaladshooter

Ben was in love with Rey for over a year when he asked her to go with him to his ex’s wedding as his ‘girlfriend’.

Be careful what you wish for by Anonymous for Zabeta

Rey has spent her life wanting to get off Jakku, and see the universe. She thought she would eventually earn enough to barter or buy her way off-planet. But the universe has other plans.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #after the blazing fire dies #rffa writers #mod post #moodboard #master post

193 notes · View notes

hiyo-silver · 6 years ago

Text

Dear Blue Birb, - Puzzle Pieces

Summary: Blue and Bill finally meet.

A/N: The ending is here!!

Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 + ao3

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler @yooonbum

The next few days are lonely. No losers, no Blue, Bill hardly has anything left. He drives to and from school alone, going home just to dick around on his computer until it’s time to sleep. Time moves slow and he’s spending a lot of his life just zoning out. It’s like sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool and watching everyone else swim just fine, but you’re weighed down.

One day he’s walking to the diner to get something to eat, that and the fact that he needs some fresh air. He needed to get out of the house, it was starting to drive him a bit crazy. He keeps his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes trained on his sneakers as they slap against the pavement at an even rhythm.

He gets a bit stiffer as he passes by the Kaspbrak house, shrugging his head further into his hood to the mas the read hair that’s really only attributed to him and Beverly Marsh. It’s nearly the end of Hanukkah, St. Nic would have come for the young children a day or two ago, and the weather matches. He watches the fog escape his mouth as he breathes out, trying not to be too anxious. He deserves a second to relax after all that’s happened.

Eddie’s looks out the window at just the right time to spot his best friend on the sidewalk outside. He feels a softness wash over him. He really does feel bad that Bill was outed. He can’t imagine how he’s cope if it’d been him. He’s not often one to be impulsive, but maybe just this once he’ll let himself make a snap decision. He pulls his coat over himself and zips it up as he dashes down the stairs of his house and out to meet Bill where he’s walking. He knows he was insensitive, but he can only go so long without his childhood best friend, he needs to apologize.

Bill doesn’t acknowledge him nor say anything yet. Eddie jogs to keep up with him. The shorter boy doesn’t say anything yet either, fumbling for his inhaler before pushing a puff of the medicine into his mouth to free his constricted lungs. He gasps for air for a moment, his hot breaths showing up white fog against the cold air.

“Okay, Bill, I gotta be kinda fast. My mom has decided I’ve got a cold this week so she’ll be mad I’m out. I’m sorry for how I reacted and what I said to you. It wasn’t your fault and I never should have done that,” Eddie rushes out, trying to keep up with the strides of Bill’s long legs. It takes Bill a few moments to react, but when he does he looks to Eddie looking nearly as if he’s about to start crying.

“I bet you don’t know how much I was hoping you’d say something like that,” he says with a sigh of relief, stopping in his tracks. He lets his eyes meet Eddie’s. “It’s just been so hard,” he says in a small voice, just glad to be able to verbalize it to someone. He’s never been used to dealing with hardship on his own, he’s had the losers for years and this is one of the only times he’s had to be separated from them.

“I’m sorry this has all been going on, you really didn’t deserve that. Martin should suck a fat one, one that hasn’t been washed in weeks, not even circumcised,” Eddie starts rambling on, not knowing how else to talk to Bill after this long gap in their friendship. It’s never happened like this before. “To be fair. I did think something was up. I even said to Ben one day ‘ah Billy-boy must be in love, only a man in love acts that way,’” he says with a chuckle. “Who is it that you love so much, tell me about this ‘Blue Birb’.”

Bill smiles, chuckling slightly in awkwardness, there’s so much he could say about this boy. Nearly everything except for his name. “Well, he’s quite lovely. He’s kind and funny. And he’s so, so smart. Like all his jokes are about smart people things. We’ve been talking since his post, the one you actually told me about. Thank you for that, I suppose,” he rambles almost as bad as Eddie does, flushing red at the idea of finally being able to gush about the boy he likes so much.

“Have you met him? Like in real life?” Eddie asks, nudging Bill teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows up and down at the tall ginger. He’s almost as bad as Richie, basically asking about their sex life straight away. Eddie’s always been that friend. The one who will gossip with just the losers but keep his mouth zipped all of the rest of the time.

“Actually no. I don’t know who he is, I mean I know him as a person, but not his name or what he looks like or anything. Kinda wish I did, I want to be able to like, kiss him, and hug him and stuff,” he says in a small voice, sighing wistfully. He’s a hopeless romantic in his own sense, longing to meet him now. But he doesn’t know how, the email address has been deleted. Months of talking down the drain, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get to talk to him again.

“I’m sorry about that, I hope you get to soon,” Eddie says, trying to meet Bill’s eyes but they’re on the ground again. He still likes Bill, but obviously Bill is deep into this, the thing he’s sparked with Blue. He deserves the happiness that has come with it. He won’t get in the way. He always thought he’d do anything to be with Bill, but now he’s realized really he just wants Bill to be happy.

“Me too,” Bill says, stopping on the sidewalk again. An idea springs into his head, having him turning around sharply, then looking to Eddie. “I just realized I have something at home to take care of, can we continue this conversation later?” he asks, his voice breathless with excitement. It’s only a simple idea, and it may not even work. But speaking with Eddie has given him the most motivation he’s had since Blue ended their contact.

Eddie nods, a little taken aback by his sudden change in tone. “Yeah, yeah definitely. Text me when you can, I should be heading back home now too, don’t want my mom to be too pissy,” he says, shoving his hands up into his warm sleeves and starting off to his home again. He wracks his brain for what could have caused the change, what may have been said to trigger it.

He gets home as fast as he can, his heart feeling as if it’s beating up into his throat. It’s not from fear necessarily. Only adrenaline. His body knows that what he’s about to do is impulsive. But heck, impulsive is Bill Denbrough’s middle name. He pulls out his laptop as ceremoniously as Martin had retrieved his for his callout, but this post Bill is to type up is much different to that. iIt’s even different to how Martin asked Beverly out, though it’s similar in the public nature.

He pulls up the gossip site. It doesn’t feel right in his heart to have to post it here, but he doesn’t know how else to establish what he wants to with this. He starts typing.

Dear Blue Birb,

You’ve seemingly disappeared, and I miss you. I know our classmates just had a problem with asking someone out publicly, but I hope this is different. You once said that life is chaotic when you’re in the closet, all the opportunities to be outed or to reveal yourself. It’s scary, I get it.

It’s almost like living life on a ferris wheel. Up and down over and over, and sometimes you get stuck. In the tone of that, the carnival is coming to town on the opening night of the school musical. I’ll be there, on the ferris wheel. If you want to join me, ride’s on me.

Lovingly yours,

Big Brother

He sighs in relief after he gets it all typed up, changing the wording at least three times before he posts. It’s a gamble, the boy he’s trying to contact may not even see it. But it’ll be fully worth it just in the case of it working. Of him finally being united with him after these few months of messages back and forth.

He’s nearly jumping and shaking with anticipation for the days leading up to the carnival. Not only because of the show opening and stage fright, but because the idea of finally meeting Blue. Maybe it was a bad choice of days, but he hopes his plan and his actions will reward him.

The day finally comes. His costume is pretty simple, just a black suit and tie, but he sweats under the spotlights of the stage. Out of heat and also out of nervousness. He speaks his lines in a smooth voice, thankfully stutterless. Beverly steals the show as expected, her solo in the final song leaving an echoed note ringing beautifully though the auditorium. A standing ovation follows.

As soon as they finish their bows, Bill dashes backstage to pull on his jeans and his flannel over his t-shirt, running his hands through his hair in front of the mirror. He still has thick theatre makeup on his face but he elects to ignore it. They should be expecting an actor to show up with some evidence of acting after all. The cakey makeup could make a funny story.

He makes eye contact with Eddie as he leaves the theatre, waving enthusiastically. He’s in good spirits, better than he has been in days. The show just ended, and he gets to ride the ferris wheel, and best of all, he might finally see Blue in the flesh.

He pays for the ride tickets, spending about all the money he has, he didn’t specify a time for Blue to come, just after the show. And he won’t take any chances in having to stop too early. It’s common knowledge now to the entire school what Bill is waiting for, and there are already people around the ferris wheel but nobody on it, leaving it for Bill to do his honor in waiting, some people even have their phones out to film. Martin’s drama is long forgotten and the outing is no longer the news, now it’s all about Bill. The brave one who had the courage to leave himself the possibility of complete humiliation for the sake of love.

He steps onto the platform to the man who runs the ride, who looks sincerely perplexed about the plethora of teens at the ride usually mostly frequented by children. Bill holds out the entire roll of tickets to the man, who scratches his beard in his confusion.

“As many rounds as this will get me,” he says with a smooth grin. He’s probably never been this excited in his life. He’s finally getting his own love story, the kind he would have seen on Disney channel as a kid. It’s perfect. The sky is darkening and the crowd is growing as quickly as his smile. Goosebumps cover his arms as he gets into the seat, it rocks back and forth with his weight. This is it.

The ride makes it’s first circle. Classmates cheer and take pictures and videos. Finally a wholesome story for their social media. Two rounds done and no Blue yet. Three and the peers start to quiet down, the time taking some of the excitement from them, teens so impatient that they get their main entertainment from seven second videos played in succession.

It keeps turning and turning, slowly getting more lonely and pathetic up there. It’s a while before his tickets run out, but they do. Everyone is surprised when Martin runs up to the platform. “I’m Blue, it’s me!” he shouts dramatically.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Bill sighs, this is embarrassing. Martin has been blackmailing him for about forever, even if he was Blue he wouldn’t be with him. It all makes sense when he speaks again.

“I am, but this is just sad, take my tickets, good luck,” the boy says, obviously finally feeling the guilt of what he did. He presses the bundle against the man running the ride’s chest without looking before walking away, beating his hand against his chest. “We believe in you Billy!”

Bill starts going up in another round of the ferris wheel’s circle. Everyone stands silently until a dark haired boy parts his way through the crowd. He stands before the seat Bill is in when the ride comes to a stand still. “Can I sit here?” Stan asks, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

“I’m waiting for someone,” Bill says softly, flabbergasted. He can hardly look into Stan’s deep brown eyes.

“I know,” Stan says, a small half smile on his lips. He sits in the cart right next to Bill. “Are you disappointed it’s me?” he asks, scared because Bill hasn’t said anything yet, only stared on in surprise.

“No, not at all,” Bill says, his eyes still looking into Stan’s. “You deserve a great love story too,” he says, letting his hand find Stan’s jaw, putting his lips against his. It’s nothing like he’s ever felt before. It feels right. Like two puzzle pieces have found their home.

#it stephen king #it fanfic #it stephen king fanfic #it stephen king fic #my fics #it bill #bill denbrough #it bill denbrough #it stan #it stan uris #it stanley #it stanley uris #it stenbrough #it stenbrough fic #stenbrough fic #it movie 2017 #it novel #stenbrough #love simon stenbrough au

28 notes · View notes

jewishlensnart · 6 years ago

Text

So it’s the holiday season, which in a lot of households means presents. You know who has more merch than almost any other Flash villain (1. being Reverse Flash as of my last count)? Captain Cold!

Have a Len lover in your life? Need to give your family gift ideas? Peep this list, y’all!

I used to own...basically everything with Len on it. I had the largest Flash collection in the southern US until about 3 years ago, when I sold the vast majority of it, and gave away even more. These reviews come from in-hand experience. Let’s start with the Original Lad:

DC Direct Captain Cold

Holy macaroni, was this figure terrible. Yes it was comic-accurate at the time, but you could not pose it, you could not keep it standing, and the face when you removed the glasses? Nightmare fuel. Still, it was a figure from 2001, and they really were doing their best, so I’d have to rate this guy a 2 out of 5.

These next two came out around roughly the same time, but could not be more different in quality. First up, DC Direct Justice Captain Cold

Strictly speaking, this figure was beautiful. Yeah it was in the hyper-realistic style of Alex Ross, who I’ve never been a fan of, but it was toned down in a way that made it less uncanny valley. The figure had stubble painted on, and if you removed the hood (which you technically could but shouldn’t), he had hair under there! But still, this was a DC Direct figure from 2008, so it had all the same flaws that a figure from that time period tended to have: absolutely a bitch to pose, hard to keep upright without the base (I let mine lean against the wall whenever I needed the base for even more precarious figures), joints prone to snapping if you worked him too hard. Still, by far my favorite of the DC Direct/Collectibles Len figures, if not my favorite full-size figure. 4.5 of 5.

Meanwhile in big box stores across the nation, DC Universe Classics was releasing their best wave yet, wave 7. Man, I had that whole thing aside from Aquaman; Big Barda, Flash, Kid Flash, Blue Beetle, Booster Gold, and of course, Captain Cold

This is the ugliest Len figure. Hands down, the least visually appealing. Which is a shame, because it’s also one of the best! Completely comic accurate until you hit the upper torso/head area, a ridiculous amount of articulation, with the single best cold gun of any of these figures...but jfc that expression. The weird poncho/hood always bothered me too, because while it was almost comic accurate, something just threw it off the track and made it look more ridiculous than cool. 3.5 out of 5.

After the New 52 hit, DC Collectibles released 2 Captain Cold figures in rapid succession, one that was packaged alone, and one that came as part of a 7-figure set

Can you spot the differences? There’s just one: the Len from the 7-figure set is in a dark blue suit, and doesn’t come with the ice mace and ice dagger. Like all DC Direct figures before them, these DC Collectibles figures are pretty to look at, but offer very little in the way of articulation. They could be hard to keep upright, which was annoying, as neither came with a stand, and do not try to take off the hood. Nothing under there. Still, they were very pretty depictions of a popular redesign, so I feel alright giving these guys a 3 of 5.

DC Collectibles spat out a final Len figure for the CWverse line back in 2015

As a big fan of Wentworth Miller and his face, I feel this figure could have been better. I mean, I’ve seen Arrowverse figures that are spot on, and this one just is not. Maybe it’s because the goggles obscure a good portion of the face, I don’t know. That being said, I love this figure, and it’s actually one I re-bought at a convention recently, along with the Heatwave figure from the same line, that hadn’t been released when I’d started selling off all of my toys. The costume is show-accurate, the figure comes with an extra set of hands, and the gun is just really cool. This is a solid 4 of 5 figure.

These next toys aren’t action figures per say, as they don’t do much in the way of action, but they’re cute and I like them, for the most part.

Funko took over the market and the world back in 2010 when it first introduced the Pop Vinyl figures, but it took a hit TV show to get Flash villains other than the Reverse Flash into production. There are 3 Captain Cold Funko products currently out, the two Pop Vinyls and a Re-Action figure

Now, I love the first Pop Vinyl. The round, lifeless black eyes of the Pops have freaked me out for a long time, but with Len in his sweet goggles, this Pop is perfect for me. I actually have him on a shelf in my closet. The variant...look, I like how they included the actual real-life hairline Wentworth Miller has, but those creepy eyes just kill it for me. The Re-Action figure, by the way, is garbage. They’re supposed to be based on the lines of toys that came out back in the 80s, but all that means to me is little to no articulation, weird molds that look nothing like the character they’re supposed to be, and few if any accessories. Why is he wearing a tie??? Just. The worst. 5 of 5 for Pop 1, 3 of 5 for Pop 2, and 1 of 5 for the Re-Action figure.

There are a bunch of figures that came out before Funko’s reign that have little to no articulation, and here they are:

Action League Citizen Cold, from the Batman: The Brave and the Bold line

I love a good boy??? 5 of 5, absolutely perfect. No you can’t pose him, but he already comes in a dynamic, interesting pose. This is my absolute favorite of all the non-poseable figures, and I miss mine all the time.

Imaginext, a line of toys for very young superhero fans, made a New 52 Captain Cold a few years back

Honestly, Imaginext toys are ridiculous, and I love every single one of them. They’re great toys for little kids, and yeah, Len is completely bald underneath that hoodie and ice gun backpack, but he has a snowball cannon to compensate with, so who’s the real loser?! 5 of 5, beautiful.

Did you kno w that back in 2011, McDonalds put out a line of Happy Meal Young Justice toys featuring Captain Cold??? Did you want to know? Too bad, you know now.

My dad’s dog chewed up his ice projectile, rendering the actual immobile figure completely useless...but I still really like it??? Like, it’s a toy that came with food that I sweet-talked the counter guy into giving me. It’s a worthless little nothing of a toy...but I still like it. 3 of 5.

Pocket Heroes were a weird little line of 3-inch figures that came in two-packs. One of those packs contained Flash and Captain Cold

You can basically only move their arms and legs, and while this figure comes with a cold gun and a remarkably ripped set of abs and pecs, the design never really appealed to me. 2.5 out of 5.

I collected MiniMates once upon a time. 2.5 inch figures that were basically fancy LEGOs? Deal me in! ViniMates are uh. Not that.

ViniMates are 6-inch figures and I Do Not Like Them. Being made of vinyl makes them almost completely free of articulation, so the post you get them in is the one they stay in. Also, this one is based on the show-interpretation of Len and it seems to be smoldering at me. Don’t like that. 1 out of 5.

On the other end of the vinyl spectrum, the Mini-Mezitz line from Mezco is simply delightful.

Mini-Mezitz were 2-inch figures with articulation in their arms, legs, and neck joints. I love mine, and they have been hanging out on the top of my bookcase for like 7 years now. 4 out of 5, absolutely weird-dorable.

Eaglemoss once put my blog on the front page of their website without telling me, back when I was actively snapping pictures of my Flash collection. The Eaglemoss lead figures, once you get past the fact that yes, these dudes are made of painted lead so maybe handle with care, are a good staple in any collection. Captain Cold got two

Both Eaglemoss figures came with information booklets about Captain Cold, though the chess piece New 52 version focused almost solely on his New 52 history. They’re both very detailed, and I really like them. 3.5 out of 5.

I never watched Thomas the Tank Engine as a kid...but I saw this weirdass thing in a HomeGoods one day and just kinda. Stopped and stared.

He’s a train. Len is a train now. Don’t like it. 1 out of 5.

So there’s this company called Kotobukiya. They’re most famous for their bishoujo statues, but they make guys too. I had the Flash Kotobukiya statue, back in the day. I was not collecting Flash stuff when they made a Captain Cold one.

I’m actually apparently getting this as a gift from my boyfriend for Hanukkah. He finally got access to my wishlist. This statue is based on the Francis Manapul New 52 redesign, and it is what we call Big Sexy. Frankly, I give it a 5 out of 5.

No offense to Wentworth Miller, but my favorite Captain Cold TV appearance is always going to be his role in the JLU episode, Flash and Substance.

The JLU figures were all godawful, but hell if we as a fandom didn’t gobble them up back in the day. I had all the available Rogues, Len, Heatwave, Captain Boomerang, Weather Wizard, “Justice Lords Flash” (who was really just Reverse Flash, let’s be real), Mirror Master...it’s the most complete set of Rogues you can get, actually. But they were terrible figures; the Dorito-like shape of the shoulder to waist ratio combined with the narrow feet of the figure guaranteed that these toys would not stay upright without a stand. They had no articulation, and most came without weapons. But you could get three-packs of them in Target for like $12, and they were designed with children in mind, so. 3.5 out of 5, because frankly, the Timmverse designs will always tug at my nostalgia strings.

Captain Cold is available in two official LEGO forms

The first is from the Mighty Macros line, and features Len vs the Flash in a racecar vs snowmobile race. It’s very cute and easy to build. The second is the more challenging Gorilla Grodd Goes Bananas set, which also includes Flash, Grodd, and strangely enough, Batman and Wonder Woman. I never owned that set, and it’s pretty hard to find these days, regularly running $80 and up. Both sets are a 5 out of 5, though, because LEGO does not mess around when it comes to quality fun.

I saved my favorites for last. In the 70s, there was a line of toys called MEGOs, which were plastic-bodied toys with cloth suits. Mattel, and later the Figures Toy Company, would both do their own versions of Captain Cold

The first version, by Mattel, is amazing. Mine is literally sitting next to me as I type this. I took him to Universal with me when I won a trip to Halloween Horror Nights back in 2015, I take him to the movies with me when I don’t have anyone else to go with, he’s my little buddy. My dad’s dog, again, chewed his left arm completely off at one point, but I don’t care. I love him. As for the Figures Toys version, I actually won a fairly cheap auction for him earlier this week, so we shall see! I don’t know if I like how he has the whole “Super Friends hypothermia Len” look going on, but I do like how his costume isn’t just cheap, tearable vinyl. We shall see what’s under that hood soon. I give the Mattel one a 5 out of 5 for the years of joy he’s given me. The Figures Toys one is pending, but I’m gonna give a tentative 4 out of 5, because it really does look nice.

You could get Len in other forms, like as a game piece in the Heroclix and Dice Masters games, as a paintable figure for a Batman tabletop roleplaying game, as trading cards, as a set of guitar picks, as a card holder, as a very hard to find but still lovely statue from DC Direct, in official pin form from Funko and Fansets, on an old 7-Eleven cup, and of course, in the pages of the comics...but I’ve always liked toys, so that’s what I decided to go over. Hope y’all enjoyed this, and maybe got some ideas for your own collections.

#Len Snart #Captain Cold #Flash Rogues #toys #long post #image heavy

7 notes · View notes

jewish-education · 6 years ago

Note

I’m wanting to read the Torah and Talmud, but I don’t know where to start. Is there like a... Jewish workbook? I’m ethnically Jewish but my family “threw away” Judaism and I’m starting from nothing.

(Note: folks who aren’t Jewish-by-birth, but rather considering conversion, I don’t recommend the order below for you. Start by studying then reaching out to a community or vice versa, please don’t start with observance without talking to a rabbi or similar.)

I’m sorry that your family wasn’t able to find a way for Judaism to work for them, but it’s fantastic that you want to explore your Jewish roots! Unfortunately, there isn’t really one single workbook out there. Torah and Talmud are really big and when you include interpretations and midrash there’s no one path to learning everything (nor is it possible for anyone to learn all of it).

Shabbat & Holidays

If you want to start bringing Judaism into your life right now, I’d recommend looking into starting your own traditions for holidays and/or Shabbat. I’m suggesting holidays as a place to start in part because there are lots of beginner friendly resources. BimBam, MyJewishLearning, ReformJudaism.org, and Chabad.org are just a few places to start online. There are tons of printed books specifically about holidays, and many basic/beginner Judaism texts will include something about holidays. (In addition, any remaining connections to Jewish religion your family has are likely to be to holidays. They may have old candlesticks or a Passover cookbook for example, or remember a Hanukkah song.) In addition to learning about the holiday’s observance itself, many holidays have a connected text you can learn about.

If you stick around this blog, anyone on jumblr (especially @istodayajewishholiday), or myjewishlearning.com you’ll hear about each holiday as it comes up. Sadly, the next Jewish holiday isn’t for months (and Tisha B’Av even one I’d recommend for starting out). With that in mind, I’m going to direct you to some stuff about Shabbat observance and learning opportunities.

Shabbat is the Jewish day of rest, and the holiest day of the week. MyJewishLearning has some pretty good basics on it in their Shabbat 101 article, but there are as many ways to observe Shabbat as there are Jews. While there’s a (somewhat) set way to traditionally observe Shabbat, jumblr has actually been talking about other approaches. Speaking of lots of approaches, I recommend reading about different branches of Judaism and their different approaches. Even if you don’t feel comfortable joining a synagogue right now, Judaism is a communal religion and so lots of things won’t be possible (or as much fun) alone.

One way many Jews observe Shabbat is lighting Shabbat candles saying a blessing (BimBam has a video with the blessing here). If getting candles isn’t possible, lots of folks consider it okay (but not preferred!) to use electric lights. You can get specialized ones like this, but if you’re in a pinch, regular electric tea lights from a drug store (or I suppose a flashlight or closet light) could fulfill the obligation (although a closet/flashlight might not be as fun). It might sound like a bummer to use electric candles, you’ve still got a chance to beautify the mitzvah. Hiddur mitzvah, or beautification of a mitzvah, is a big part of Jewish tradition. As I just said, you could use a flashlight to fulfill bringing light into your home for Shabbat, but using beautiful candlesticks (or my next idea) shows how much the mitzvah matters to you and makes the mitzvah special. How are electric tea lights beautiful? You can make them beautiful! Electric tea lights could be decorated with sharpie, or enclosed in paper lanterns/cut-outs like these.

If you do want to start bringing Jewish observance and ritual into your life, but Shabbat sounds like it isn’t your thing, @adamavshamayim had some great suggestions earlier here.

Torah Study

Maybe you feel like starting with just study is what’s best for you. If so, I’d recommend that you join a local Torah study group. Most synagogues have one (they might have a Talmud study group too, but I recommend starting with Torah). If you’re in college, you can check out your local Hillel (if they don’t have a study group, they’ll likely know of a student, rabbi, Jewish educator or professor who would be happy to study with you). If you don’t think there’s anything Jewish in your area, see if you have a local Chabad house (you probably have a Chabad resource!) that can match you with chavrutas (and know that Chabad, like all Jewish institutions, has non-universal perspectives on texts and on their significance/interpretations). If you’re really raring to go and can’t find anything, I’d recommend checking out some podcasts. Torah really needs to be studied with commentary, and preferably with a teacher. Sefaria (they have Rashi, a major commentator in English) or a Tanakh (JPS is good, or any that you can confirm isn’t Christian/Messianic) plus a good podcast would be the text best thing.

What to do when you can’t study Talmud

While I don’t want to brush off Talmud as inaccessible, it’ll be really overwhelming without a background and no one should study it alone. In the mean time, you can learn about different perspectives on Jewish law (that’s what concerns the Talmud) and read about interpretations in areas that you find interesting or relevant. The most important thing to get out of this is how many different perspectives there will be around any law or line. Judaism has perspectives on everything from criminal justice to animal care to talking.

A final note for anyone who doesn’t have a shul right now(!)

I’d highly recommend checking some synagogues out in the next few months. This might sound premature, but if you decide late summer/early autumn that you want to get involved, you’ll be in the middle of High Holidays (Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur with Sukkot and Simcha Torah coming after…yes, that’s a lot of holidays). High Holidays will be a busy time for any community you want to join so they might not have as many resources available to help you get situated. If August rolls around and you haven’t found a synagogue but realize you want to do something for the high holidays, feel free to reach out again but there might not be much anyone can do until after. I didn’t want to make this post twice as long as it already is and fill it with even more maybes and ifs.

#Anonymous #asks #reclamation #jewish reclamation #jewish journeys #tagging as #liberalandobservant #for shabbat candle electric tea lights #bc I know that one can be a help for folks #increasing observance #shabbat #shabbat observance #jewish study #starting Jewish study

40 notes · View notes

missgoalie75 · 7 years ago

Text

a gilmore christmas | fic: instead of cursing the darkness, light a candle

title: instead of cursing the darkness, light a candle word count: ~3,000 disclaimer: title is from ��light a candle’ by neil young. summary: post-revival | in which paris invites jess over for hanukkah for reasons not limited to doyle screwing up his flight and paris cutting out everyone due to election day reactions. note: this was written for a gilmore christmas, so please make sure to check out all the works! thank you @alspancakeworld for hosting this again.

Jess only has Paris Geller's cell phone number because he babysat her two kids as a one-time thing: he happened to be in the city on the same night that her babysitter fell through and she had to go to a gala. It wasn't a bad night – he ordered pizza for the kids, they watched some animated movies that he missed when he was their age; he occasionally texted Paris, who checked in every hour. The kids were supposed to go to bed at eight, but he let them stay up and they tired themselves out by nine. Paris came home at one in the morning, tired and a little tipsy and she thanked him with a kiss on the cheek, which he doesn't think she would've ever done if she were sober. The next morning, he made breakfast for the family and then left.

That was about a month ago and he didn't expect to hear from her so soon, let alone a week before Christmas:

From Paris Geller: I’m assuming you’re not doing anything for the holidays this year because I’m told you rarely see your family during that time, so if that’s the case, you can come to my Hanukkah gathering on the 24th.

From Paris Geller: I’ve had to cut out 80% of my social circle due to the election and Doyle isn’t going to make it until Boxing Day because he’s a self-centered writer and screwed up booking a simple red eye.

From Paris Geller: And my kids actually like you, so please.

Jess stares at the series of texts, completely flabbergasted.

From Jess Mariano: I figured since you were in the medical field you would be in better company.

From Paris Geller: You’d think, but they’re either too wealthy and want to keep their $$$, they’re self-hating Jews, and/or they voted for Jill Stein.

From Jess Mariano: Yikes.

From Paris Geller: It’s been a rough 6 weeks.

He knows. After the gala, after she kissed his cheek in thanks, she proceeded to hiss about an asshole donor who loves his hunting rifles and money too much and how he's confident about the upcoming administration, tears of rage in her eyes. He couldn't judge her for that since Rory was incapacitated for days and can only imagine Paris just functioning for her kids' wellbeing.

(And he himself punched a hole in the wall at Truncheon at two in the morning on election night, drunker than he'd been in years, but nobody knows that.)

From Jess Mariano: Yep.

From Paris Geller: So, can you come? Incentives: you sleep in the guest room, you have access to my PRIVATE gym, state of the art kitchen, books.

From Jess Mariano: You think you have me all figured it out don’t you.

From Paris Geller: Private. Gym.

Jess sighs and rubs his eye before cupping his jaw in thought. It’s true, he hasn’t gone out of his way to come to Stars Hollow for the holidays for a variety of reasons, most of which revolve around bad memories with Liz, and recently he’s enjoyed spending the time either by himself or with a few other misfits watching Reservoir Dogs (his choice) and Die Hard (definitely not his choice).

From Paris Geller: AND I’m buying good rugelach. I’m going to Park Slope for them.

He does have an appreciation for good rugelach. Besides, with Chris attempting to mend his relationship with his brother and going out of town and Matthew going to his grandmother’s house, he thinks he can close up shop for a few days.

From Jess Mariano: Do I need to bring anything?

From Paris Geller: No, just respectable clothes.

From Jess Mariano: Do you still picture me like I’m seventeen wearing camo and baggy pants?

From Paris Geller: Obviously. I bet it shocks you every time to see my short hair.

From Jess Mariano: Fair point. I’ll come after lunch.

From Paris Geller: No, you come FOR lunch. You’re a guest. I will feed you.

From Jess Mariano: I have a hard time imagining your cooking…

From Paris Geller: I’m going to take you out to lunch in a damn restaurant. Unless you have made up important work to get done on Christmas Eve.

From Jess Mariano: Okay…I’ll come for lunch.

From Paris Geller: Great. See you then.

Jess reads over the exchange and shakes his head.

"So, what are you doing for Christmas this year? Staying at Truncheon?" Luke asks a few days before Christmas Eve.

"No, I'll be in New York," Jess answers as he's doing sit ups on his bedroom floor.

"Who's there?"

Jess sighs, does two more sit ups, and picks up the phone by his hip on the ground. "Are the Gilmores around?"

"What, why?"

"Because I don't want to deal with a reaction right now."

"Okay, weirdo, no, I'm in the storage room. Why is this a secret?"

Jess runs his teeth over his bottom lip. "Paris."

"What?"

"Paris Geller. I'm doing Hanukkah with her and her kids."

"…But why?"

"Because she asked and I figured why the hell not." He puts the phone back down and does another set of sit ups.

He does a few before Luke asks, "Is this about Rory?"

Jess clenches his jaw as he propels himself forward. "Not everything is about her."

"You know you're always welcome –"

"Thanks, Luke, but I'm good."

"Okay, if you say so…but Paris? Really?"

"You know, she's not terrible."

"She's terrifying."

She's a force of nature, but Jess just thinks at the end of the day, Paris Geller is someone who takes what she wants by sheer will and has always had a hard time finding – and keeping – people in her life who respect it. There's nothing terrifying about it. (Although the glint in her eyes when she talks about certain things like politics and women in television is a little bit concerning.)

"You know Rory and Lorelai are going to find out about it."

Obviously, but Jess doesn't want to have a conversation about it with Rory, who will probably be territorial about it. "Whatever, at least it's not right now."

"What are you doing?"

Jess finishes his last sit up. "Sit ups. Now pushups."

"You still have to tell me how the hell –"

"Bye, Luke, speak to you later." Jess hangs up on him, flips over, and begins his first rep of pushups.

(Look, Rory being pregnant is…whatever. None of his business.)

Even though Paris told Jess not to bring anything, he buys bagels because that's typically his go-to 'thank you for hosting me' gift since everyone loves a New York bagel. And he buys jelly doughnuts since he wasn't sure if she just bought rugelach and also, he was hungry on his way in and wanted a quick snack. And going by the way her collarbones are sticking out and her face appearing a little gaunter than the last time he saw her, he's glad he brought both.

Gabriela and Timothy hug him and make him promise to draw and play games and do other kid things that will end up exhausting him. But he likes them – they're surprisingly warm children, especially considering who gave birth to them.

"Alright, let's get moving, we have a reservation!" Paris says over their excited squeals. "Coats on! Hats too!"

"Where are we going, exactly?" Jess asks.

Paris rolls her eyes. "Don't worry, I picked American food."

"I wouldn't have minded diversity," he says with an amused smile. "I grew up with six different types of cuisine in the same block."

"There's Chinese tomorrow night."

"Wow, really? Something tells me you didn't adhere to that Jewish tradition growing up," he laughs.

Paris smiles. "Definitely not, but my mom ate a handful of almonds and coffee on a daily basis, so that was out of the question."

"You're going to have to buy a vat of lo mein," he warns her as he gets down on a knee to help Gabriela zip her coat.

"Don't worry, you won't starve," Paris scoffs, ushering her kids out the front door. "And, obviously," she adds, as if he were crazy to suggest not ordering enough lo mein to feed a family for a week.

"Just making sure," Jess sighs, shutting the door behind him.

Jess didn't know much about Hanukkah prior to living with Matthew. Before, his knowledge stemmed from "The Hanukkah Song" and living in some predominantly Jewish neighborhoods. Now, he has a better understanding – he even knows the blessings recited when lighting the menorah, but he butchers the pronunciation, according to Matthew, so he was never expected to do the honors.

"Who remembers the blessings of the first night?" Paris asks.

Jess raises his hand.

"Who out of the practicing Jews in the room remembers the blessing of the first night?" Paris clarifies dryly as her children giggle.

"Can't I be an honorary Jew?" he asks. "I bet if we put it to a vote, I'd win." He grins at her children, who beam back at him.

"Be quiet, James Taggart. Gabriela? Your Hebrew School teacher said you were doing well," Paris says, running her thumb over the apple of her daughter's cheek.

"Who's James?" Timothy asks.

"A character from a bad writer," Jess answers.

"You can't judge a writer by one book," Paris argues.

"Ayn Rand writes the same s…garbage every time. One is enough. Let Gabriela recite the blessings."

Paris scowls and shakes her head.

Jess technically only knows the first two blessings which are said every night of Hanukkah, so when Gabriela stumbles over a word, he whispers the correct one in her ear. He lights the middle candle with a Bic lighter from his pocket when Paris gives him a nod. Gabriela and Timothy both keep a hand on Jess' when he lights the rightmost candle after the third blessing is recited.

"You did beautifully," Paris says.

"Couldn't have done it better myself," Jess adds, putting the candle back in the menorah.

"Tomorrow, you can light the second candle," Paris tells Timothy, who nods.

"I'm going to be perfect," Timothy announces, very much an echo of his mother.

Jess will be very interested in how Timothy will grow up.

Jess got Timothy a stack of coloring books and a nice set of colored pencils since he seemed to have the bigger passion for art the last time he saw him. He gave Gabriela a large set of multicolored beads and different kinds of strings to make her own jewelry.

"What the fuck, Mariano, what is this gift giving genius?" Paris says quietly through her teeth.

"Nice alliteration. I thought about getting them the likes of The Phantom Tollbooth and Jacob Have I Loved but I figured you should do the honors in a couple of years."

She looks away innocently, eyes falling toward the closet where he's sure she's keeping her children's gifts. He feels such a strange sort of fondness for her.

After the kids are tucked in, Paris opens a fresh bottle of wine and Jess places a gift for her on the kitchen counter.

She stares at it blankly for a second. "Really?"

"You really have a horrible preconception of me," he jokes. "It's not much."

She finishes pouring the glasses and puts the wine back in the cooler before opening the box, which has an Amazon gift card and a nice, expensive pen.

She smiles – a soft, genuine one that probably hasn't been seen by many.

"Okay, I got you something too," she says, going over to the closet outside of the kitchen.

He opens the neatly wrapped gift and laughs, finding an Amazon gift card on top of a pile of different sized Moleskin journals, all black.

"I'm a cliché, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but it's fine. We all have our faults."

He snorts and sticks the card into the topmost journal. "Got any more latkes?"

So they're sitting on the couch with a plate of reheated latkes, a bowl of leftover blue and white jellybeans, and full glasses wine.

"This upcoming year is going to suck," Paris whines.

He nods in agreement.

"I swear to God, if I knew this was going to happen, I wouldn't have had kids. I'm devastated that my children will be exposed to this bullshit and will probably have to fix it their entire lives."

Jess frowns. "Not that I'm Mr. Optimistic, but I'm hoping we won't totally fuck ourselves over irreparably."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I have a hard time imagining this future fucked up administration will turn your kids into assholes. I'm sure you're instilling good feminist values."

"Honestly, Timothy I think will bully his peers into believing the right things. He reminds me of me so much, it's scary."

"He glowers like you, it's unnerving," he agrees.

"Gabriela has her moments when it's like I'm looking in a mirror, but she's definitely got Doyle's demeanor."

"How's that going?"

Paris sighs. "I can't imagine getting back with him. He's not the same. And neither am I in some respects, but –"

"You feel like you've pretty much stayed the same," he assumes.

She stares at him. "Is that bad?"

He shrugs. "I don't think so."

They drink and eat in silence for a few moments.

"I can't believe she's pregnant," Paris says flatly before bringing the glass to her mouth. She takes a long drink. "I know she was going through…I don't know. A rough patch. But…pregnant?"

He vividly recalls sitting across from a desk, sipping half-terrible whiskey as Rory talks about having no underwear. He doesn't bring that up, but he hums in agreement and drinks.

"Is it weird to be disappointed in a friend? Because I feel that way."

He shrugs. "Don't know. Probably not."

She stares at him over her glass. "You were a dark horse."

"What?"

"I mean, I never would've guessed this scenario happening in a million years."

"Is it the hair?" he jokes.

"The success, the lack of attitude, the rippling pectorals."

He just stops himself from laughing out loud. "Please don't ever say that again."

"Oh, come on, you're jacked, it's ridiculous, who are you." She finishes her wine. "What are you even doing with your abs, because I can't for the fucking life of me get rid of this pouch of fat right below my belly button."

"Are we going to work out together tomorrow morning?" he half-jests, but judging by the way her eyes flash with determination, he knows she takes the suggestion seriously.

"I'm up at seven and I think the kids will be in a food coma."

He shakes his head and finishes his wine.

As much as Jess enjoys doing plenty of things on his own, it's actually not bad exercising with Paris. They keep headphones in for most of the time and they somehow motivate each other, mostly by Paris staring holes into his face while either of them are completing sets.

While they're finishing up, both of her kids come in and exclaim "Happy Chrismukkah!" which Jess didn't realize was still a thing people outside of his friend group – still stuck in the mid-2000s – said to one another.

"Can you make pancakes again, Jess? Please?" Timothy asks.

"Yeah, please!" Gabriela echoes.

"Depends if your mother –" Jess starts.

"Oh, don't worry, I have everything you'll need, I was prepared for this request" Paris interrupts him.

Jess laughs. "Of course."

He makes chocolate chip pancakes for the kids and omelets for himself and Paris, even though they end up eating a pancake or two.

Paris gives her kids a few gifts to open in the spirit of Christmas, taking pictures and sending them to Doyle. They change into new winter-themed pajamas and watch holiday-themed movies.

At one point, Paris orders a disgusting amount of Chinese food to have delivered, but Jess offers to pick up.

On his walk, he calls Luke.

"He lives."

Jess rolls his eyes. "Merry Christmas to you, Uncle Luke."

"Merry Christmas. How's it going over there?"

"Very nice."

"Seriously?"

"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be here. Have you seen Liz yet?"

"We're having dinner later. She didn't call you yet?"

"I'm sure it's coming."

"It's Jess, want to say hello?" Luke asks distractedly.

Jess bites back a sigh.

"Hi, Jess, Merry Christmas!" Lorelai says. "Remember, if you need help, just text the SOS emoji and we'll send a brigade."

"Pretty sure the brigade has the day off along with the post office – I think I'll survive in the meantime."

"Wish Paris and her kids a Happy Hanukkah."

"I will."

There a few seconds of silence until: "Merry Christmas, Jess."

He wets his bottom lip. "Merry Christmas, Rory."

"I have another chapter done – at this rate, maybe by spring, the first draft will be done."

"Your rate is definitely better than mine at the moment. I hope when you're done you'll consider submitting a draft to a smaller publishing company."

"Truncheon is number one on the list."

He smiles. He reaches the restaurant and comes to a stop. "I gotta go, but I'm sure I'll see you around."

"Bye, Jess."

He hangs up and for a moment, he considers the fact that next year, she'll have a few-months-old baby, and desperately wishes for a strong drink.

(There's a point when Liz calls and while the conversation is brief – he speaks at length with Doula of all the gifts she received and thanking him for his gifts that he sent in the mail – Paris at one point slides him a beer and they cheer to being better than their shitty mothers. When the kids go to sleep, they watch Reservoir Dogs and Miracle on 34th Street and eat more Chinese food. Jess considers making more of an effort to hang out with Paris and her kids with the new year.)

Doyle arrives early in the morning and there's a weird moment when he sizes Jess up, which Jess doesn't want to think about or consider.

But Jess leaves soon after, letting the Geller-McMaster family have their time alone. Paris sends Jess home with leftover latkes and Chinese food and a box of rugelach. He's not one for hugs still, but he's okay with hugging Gabriela and Timothy and Paris.

On his drive home, he sneaks a rugelach or two, considers where he's going to hang up the drawings Timothy gave him, his new beaded bracelets made by Gabriela rolling up and down his wrist.

(He's also very excited to hole himself in his room and read, but that's just because some things just won't change.)

#agilmorechristmas #gilmore girls #jess mariano #paris geller #gg fic #missgoalie writes things

68 notes · View notes