#the last one makes them feel a little more distant than I'd have liked | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wheeboo · 13 days

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to love and be loved | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which wonwoo tells you about his first (and only) love. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers WARNINGS. self-doubt talk on reader's end, self-indulgent wooweee, this was painfully hard to write lmao n have no idea if any of this makes sense WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from anon: Hiiiiiiii first of all congratssss for you 2k. For the event, ive been thinking the same exact story with wonwoo and #6 from list 3 - #6: “You’re not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You just… Need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”

notes: i'd quite literally do anything to have these kinds of talks with wonwoo ☹️☹️. anyway i hope u all enjoy this <3 hits close to home >< tysm anon hehe <3

join the 2k celebration!

"Hey, uh, Wonwoo?"

"Mhm?"

"...have you ever been in love?"

A cricket chirps into the evening air right after you ask, and you suddenly feeling like you're holding in a long-winded breath. Then you hear a loud crunch by Wonwoo from the crackers he was snacking on, and you blink up to him wiping away the corner of his mouth. There's the slightest glimpse of a curve to his lips that you manage to catch.

He silently offers you a cracker in your direction, the anticipating silence between the two of you growing thickly. You take the cracker from his hand, muttering a quiet thanks, before nibbling on it absentmindedly.

The night is absolutely beautiful right now, swearing that you could spot and make out the constellations above if you squinted hard enough. The distant chirping of crickets is the only sound that breaks the silence as the coolness of the night rolls in, carrying with it slight breeze that whispers through the leaves overhead the balcony of your apartment.

"I have."

You swiftly turn your head to him, eyes widening intriguingly. "You have?"

The chuckle that leaves him is somewhat awkward, a tad bit hesitant. He crumples up the bag of crackers and sets it aside, chugging down the last sips of his drink and setting down the empty can as well.

"Did you... ever confess to them?" You ask, suddenly feeling curious, though there's a bit of disappointment at the tip of your tongue.

You swear you could see the thoughts swirling around his head. Wonwoo keeps his eyes fixed up to the night sky. There's a distant look in his eyes, as though he's peering into some past moment that only he can see, before he shakes his head, a faint smile crossing over his lips.

"No, I didn't," he answers calmly. "They were too far away, so... I just chose to admire them at a distance."

You lean back against the wall behind, your shoulder momentarily brushing against his. "Did they know you?"

Wonwoo purses his lips together. "Mhm."

"Well, you missed your chance!" You exclaim, prodding him playfully with your elbow. "I can't believe you let them get away, dude. Like right through the little cracks of your fingers. You could've been in a relationship by now."

This earns you a low, playful scoff from Wonwoo. "Are you assuming that they loved me back?"

Immediately, you feel the heat crawl up your neck and to the tips your ears.

"Well, um... Yeah, I am," You admit sheepishly, letting out a small sigh. "I mean, who wouldn't fall for a guy like you? You're nice and... charming. I think anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

There's a silence that falls between the two of you, one simply more than just comfortable yet denser than ever, because the thought of being loved by Wonwoo seems to linger longer than you notice. You steal a glance at him, seeing his face still turned upwards towards the night sky and the moonlight reflecting on his glasses. Strands of his dark hair blow across his forehead in the breeze. You can't quite decipher his expression, but a flicker of something𑁋perhaps surprise, maybe even amusement𑁋dances on his features for a brief moment.

He finally turns back to you, a small, hesitant smile playing on his lips. "You think so?"

"Yeah," You confirm, nodding lightly. "Absolutely."

Wonwoo still keeps his eyes on you as you glance away, seeing the way you fidget with your hands in your lap and smoothing out the creases in your pants nervously. He glances down at his own hand and back at yours, lips pursing together in contemplation, but only folds his fingers back together the second you reach over him to grab the crumpled-up bag of crackers. He feels a little bit too warm in his sweater right now.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

A crunch echoes through the air. Then another. And another.

"I've just been kinda... thinking a lot lately, I guess," You reply slowly, quietly. "And it sort of makes me sound desperate in a way, but there are times I just wonder if, um... if anyone has ever felt the same way about me."

Wonwoo tilts his head slightly. "Love?"

"Not just love, but... seeing me, you know?" Being able to talk about this out loud makes your chest feel heavy. "Since it's hard these days to find someone who sees you for who you are, not for who you can be. I... I just feel like I'm hard to love sometimes. Hell, maybe even unlovable. It’s hard to break out of that mindset when things get hard again.”

A thoughtful quietness seeps through the nighttime breeze, which sends goosebumps up and down your skin, but you don't mind it because you know that Wonwoo is listening either way. And the more you think about it𑁋the thought of knowing that he's here, with his presence is right next to you𑁋it seems to comfort you more than you notice.

There's a small hum of acknowledgement that you hear from his end, unsure if it's just your imagination or if he's actually responding as your mind feels a little jumbled up right now. But then Wonwoo shifts beside you, his arm lightly pressing against yours.

"But I... I think I've reached a point in time where I can say I love myself a little more than a few years ago, or last year, or even just yesterday," You continue to ramble a bit aimlessly, chuckling dryly to yourself. "It’d be nice to share that with someone too, you know? To finally get over this loneliness. But it's not entirely a sad loneliness or a happy one. It's, like, uh... both put together, I guess."

A few moments of silence pass. You feel Wonwoo gently nudge your leg with his.

"I'm proud of you."

You peer up to look at him, mind nearly going blank from the way he's gazing at you. Or maybe it's just the moonlight that's making him appear so... picturesque. "What for?"

"For loving yourself, silly," Wonwoo muses almost cheekily, and the delighted tone that you catch makes your stomach leap. "Even if it's just by a small percentage than yesterday, it's still okay. You're doing good. I want you to know that."

You're doing good. It's just those three singular words that has heat forming in your eyes that you somehow manage to blink back before anything could spill, and hearing it come from Wonwoo feels different. There's a vulnerable sweetness to them, a sincerity that catches you off-guard. You force a smile𑁋a grateful one, nonetheless𑁋before it shifts into a frown.

And Wonwoo catches it right away. "What's wrong?"

Your lips form a thin line, pressing together in thought. You refuse to acknowledge why you think your heart feels slightly... jealous.

"I hope whoever you loved before knows how lucky they are one day," You say to him. "if you're still in love with them, that is..."

Wonwoo stills for a minute, pensively. "I am."

"You are?"

"I never stopped."

You stare at him for a few moments, an eyebrow lifted in disbelief at him, before crossing your arms together and letting out a small, incredulous laugh. "Then you should've said that you're in love with them, idiot."

Wonwoo sucks in a breath.

"I'm in love with you."

You blink instinctively, once, twice, three times, momentarily thinking that Wonwoo's presence might somehow disappear into thin air. But he's still there𑁋a certain softness in the way he's looking at you, a gentleness that seems to wrap around you like a warm embrace𑁋waiting for you. His words suspend heavily in the air, and maybe the world is also holding its breath just as you are too.

"And... You're not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You're far from that," Wonwoo continues, voice tender, fond, and soft as a lullaby. "You just... need to let me in, and let me show you you're just as worthy of love as anyone else is."

You could only sit merely frozen at this point, throat tightened and jaw dropped in shock among many other weird, fuzzy feelings happening throughout your body. Something between relief and disbelief. Hope and hesitancy. Comfort and uncertainty. You have the capacity to run yet you choose not to𑁋you're letting him in, letting the warmth of his words seep into the cracks of your doubt.

Your mind reels dizzily, almost like the world has been tilting away off-balance.

"You... You're in love with me?" You repeat, almost dumbly, because you cannot seem to fathom anything that's been said in the past few moments. "All that talk about earlier... about who you..."

Wonwoo hangs his head down low, rubbing at his neck in a bashful manner. "It was about you."

"And you never... you never told me?"

"Honestly, I'd like to think a part of it was you being a tad bit oblivious." And then he just simply grins, his nose crinkling along with it. "But that's okay. Watching you slowly figure yourself out made me realise that maybe I needed to find myself a little more too."

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and you could feel the heat of embarrassment spreading painfully throughout your face. At first, you have the urge to brush it all away as a silly misunderstanding. Maybe laugh it off, retreat back inside, and go to sleep pretending all of this didn't happen. But the sincerity in his eyes stops you.

You lick your dry lips, the cool night air beginning to feel a lot less suffocating.

"Did you?" You ask vaguely, before shaking your head repeating, "Did you... find yourself?"

Wonwoo lets his eyes roam over you, taking you in, before leaning back on the wall and bringing his gaze back up toward the night sky. Your eyes refuse to leave him, and perhaps this is what it's like to admire someone from afar and close up all at once.

The two of you take a deep, deliberate exhale together.

"Yeah," he answers, smiling softly. "I think I found myself right where I want to be."

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obsessedvibee · 3 months

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Can't Sleep

MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Pairing: Austin Butler x reader

Warnings: lots of dirty talk, m. masturbation, f. masturbation, humping a pillow

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Austin is in Paris promoting Dune part 2 and he can't sleep in his hotel. He calls his girl to chat and things get dirty real fast. Phone sex ensues.

Authors Note: It's been way too long since I've written for Austin. Something about imagining him rubbin' one out just does something to me. So I thought I'd make everyone else suffer too. You're welcome. Comments & reblogs appreciated!

Enjoy!

He tossed the remote to the other side of the bed defeatedly. Flipping through the few channel options on the hotel tv could only entertain him for so long. Looking over at the clock the red number taunted him showing 4am. Being up for the last almost 36 hours would tire out most people but his body wouldn’t let go of consciousness. The jet lag certainly wasn’t helping either. His thoughts flickered to her. Doing the math in his head; she’d only be at 10pm in New York with Paris being six hours ahead. She should be home from work now. Finished with dinner.

He reached for his phone, quickly finding her in his contacts, before pressing it to his ear. The line crackled before it began to ring. His fingers mindlessly played with the string from the waistband of his sweats as he waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?”

Her voice sounded small and distant through the line and he hated it.

“Y/N, hi,” he rasped.

“Hi.”

A bit of rustling sounded on the other end as she sat up from the couch she was more than likely dosing off on.

“You sound tired,” he said, suddenly feeling guilty, “I should let you sleep.”

“No, no it’s fine,” she assured him, “I think I’m more bored than tired.”

He knew she was lying. She’d fallen asleep on that couch so many times when he’s home with her. Never being able to finish a whole movie without hearing her soft snores as she slept.

He was a little jealous if he was being honest with himself. He was never one of those people that could just pass out as soon as they close their eyes. Even more so if it wasn’t his own bed.

“Have you slept at all since you left?”

He sighed, “no.”

“Aus,” she said sympathetically.

He ran a hand over his face.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He hummed, “tell me about your day.”

And she did. From her drive to work to how much the phone rang, how her boss had gotten on her nerves, what she got for lunch, how her feet hurt from her new heels she bought the other day, her drive home, how she had to go back out to get chicken for dinner from the grocery store that she forgot to get yesterday. Every detail she rambled on about, but he didn’t mind. It made him feel less alone. Less like he was on the other side of the world.

“Hey, Austin?”

“Hm?”

“I’m gonna set you down for a sec, I gotta pee.”

He chuckled, “m'kay.”

He heard the clank of her setting the phone down, and he pulled his phone away from him for a minute checking the time. 4:30. At least the time was moving a little faster now.

Putting the phone on speaker, he checked a few emails while he waited when his phone chimed, with her name coming across the banner with a new text.

Leave it to her to text the person she’s currently chatting with.

Clicking on the banner, his phone swapped apps to the text.

But it wasn’t a text.

His heart rate rose as his eyes took in the photo.

She was posed in their bathroom mirror with a black lingerie set he’d never seen her in before. Her phone was in one hand snapping the photo while the other had her thumb through the waistband of her panties teasingly tugging them lower down her hip, hardly leaving anything to the imagination. Her breasts were barely contained in the bra, the cups hardly coming up over her nipples, her flesh pushed together creating ample cleavage.

He swallowed thickly as he felt the warmth of blood rush to his groin.

“You still there, Aus?” She asked feigning innocence.

He cleared his throat, “yea- yea.” He took a deep breath. “What are you-?”

He didn’t have a ton of words flying around in his head given the normal amount of blood that was in his brain was now being utilized elsewhere.

She giggled, “you need a little help getting to sleep, yeah? So I thought I’d give ya a little help.”

God, what did he do to deserve such an angel?

“Right now?”

Was this for now or after she hung up? This was new territory for the both of them.

“If you want?”

He felt her back tracking and he scrambled to steer the conversation back to the desired destination.

“Shit, yeah- yeah,” he shifted on the bed propping some pillows to lean back on as he rested his hand over his semi in his pants giving a little squeeze. “Are you- are you touching yourself?”

He heard her inhale before speaking, “should I be?”

“Please,” he almost whispered.

He ground his teeth, waiting for any sound from her. Something to feed his imagination. He lightly ran the back of his fingers over the tent in his pants, keeping his nerves on end.

A small moan sounded into his ear, and he immediately began to work himself with her.

His heart was pounding already, imagining her with her legs open on the couch, her hand working herself over her panties.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he breathed, his fingers slipping under the waistband of his sweats.

She struggled to find her voice. She took a breath, “you.”

“Yeah?” He worked at tugging down his pants. “What about me?”

“Aus,” she chuckled nervously, “I- I- don’t know if I can do this.”

He situated himself, slowly wrapping his hand around his length, giving her a moment. She always got a little shy with talking filthy.

Not willing to let the mood wane, he chose to take the lead. “I gotcha, just keep your hands busy for me.”

He heard her begin shuffling around before getting settled.

He sighed lazily, beginning to stoke himself, lightly squeezing on his upstroke. His thumb swiped the tip collecting the bead of precum, spreading it around.

“’m so hard for you right now,” he murmured huskily, his voice heavy with arousal watching his tip disappear into his fist.

A little whimper escaped her, rewarding his words, and boosting his ego.

Letting his eyes close, his mind began to tease him with images of her. Her smooth skin, her hair splayed out behind her. Was she starting slow and gentle?

A sharp inhale brought him back to the present.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. A soft moan followed, melting through the phone into his ear. “I just had to take everything off.”

He couldn't help but quicken his strokes as the sudden image of her legs spread, and center bare on their couch overtook his thoughts.

“Wanted to get more comfortable.”

“Fuck-, are you wet?”

She hummed, “so wet.”

Hearing her pleasured sounds were going to be his undoing.

“Put a finger in for me,” he coaxed her.

“Oh-“ she sighed heavily, “Austin.”

His cock throbbed, imagining how warm and tight she must feel. Her glistening folds wrapping around her little finger.

“Keep talking, Aus.”

He bit his lip as a smug smile threatened to appear. He had her right where he needed her.

“Don’t forget about my girls up top,” he spoke, “give ‘em a little attention for me.”

A full moan left her lips, making his cock twitch. He could practically feel her breaths on his ear. His mind kept conjuring up one filthy image after another. One hand in her pussy, the other groping her breast. Forcing his hand to pause, he squeezed at the base as the sudden urge to release overwhelmed him.

As he willed his heart to slow and the pleasured throbbing in his cock to weaken, a bunch of commotion sounded on her line. He listened intently as it quieted and a rhythmic sound started to come through. He reached down to massage his balls, swallowing thickly, “baby?”

A short whine came from her, sounding distant, before she shuffled the phone closer to her panting mouth, “are you close?”

He let his head fall back into the pillows with a huffed laugh, letting his fingers lightly play at the little sensitive spot under the head. “Just waiting on you, darling.”

He began stroking in rhythm with the sounds coming from her, his limbs tightening as the pleasure began to burn in his pelvis once more, “tell me what you’re doing.”

“I got a pillow-” she gasped, “-between my legs.”

His hips jerked, the primal urge to thrust breaking through his conscious.

“”You ridin’ it, like you do me?” He panted.

She couldn't even manage to string a sentence together anymore, a groan being her only reply.

“Cum with me baby, in 3-,” he began counting them down, “2-,”

Her whines were high causing goosebumps to cover his flesh, his fist flying impossibly quick over his shaft. He never thought further than her using her hand to pleasure herself, but imagining her grinding herself onto a pillow would be a fantasy he would be coming back to many times in the future, he was sure of it.

“Aus,” she cried, desperate for him to put an end to the agony.

“Cum for me,” he growled; a white heat flooding his pelvis.

A squeak was all he heard from her as she climaxed, and his cock suddenly became impossibly harder as the buzz in his veins shot through his tip. His head pressed deep into the pillows as his body tensed as his climax took hold. White spurted over his abdomen as he grunted like an animal with every lurch his cock gave, draining his seed, relieving his desire.

Relaxing his body, he quickly was left limp as he tried to catch his breath.

Minutes passed as they both regained a normal breathing rate.

He picked up the phone, taking it off of speaker, “thank you, baby.”

It wasn't long after they hung up that he was able to finally fall into a sweet sleep.

Need some more Austin smut? Check out my other works! > Masterlist

#austin butler #austin butler smut #austin x reader

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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When the Corroded Coffin makes it, Eddie leans into the success completely. He can't really help it, he never thought he'd make it anywhere, wouldn't even have a moderately comfortable life and now he's here, people love him, want him, think he's worth their time. It's intoxicating and he feels like if he slows down for just a second, he'll lose it all.

Steve is supportive, of course he is. It's everything Eddie's ever wanted, success in the world and the most amazing person at home, loving him unconditionally. But Eddie grows more and more frantic about his work, tours, everything. He loves Steve so much, he talks about him in awards ceremonies, in interviews and credits him as his forever muse that he maybe forgets a little that random people who he'll never meet hear more about his love for his boyfriend than Steve himself.

Maybe if he took a moment to think, Eddie would have remembered that Steve was left alone for most of his teenage years, that the love he had was real but distant. That this love always stopped him from asking for more, asking for time spent together, for actions, not words. But he didn't.

After many dinners wrapped in cellophane and tossed in the fridge, postponed dates, hurried goodbye kisses and whispered promises over the phone that never come true, it happens. Steve doesn't blame him, doesn't scream or snap, but Eddie would have preferred if he did. He just calmly tells him that he loves him, will always love Eddie and he can't imagine there being anyone else, but he finally realized that while he's happy for Eddie, he can't live through someone else's dream. He needs, wants more than another empty house and waiting, so much waiting. He kisses Eddie goodbye and whispers, "I'm so happy you managed to break your cycle, Eddie. The crime, poverty...I'm so proud of you. But now I need to break my own."

---

As Steve fully settles in his own apartment almost a year later, heart aching but finally not paralyzed, he turns on the radio and hears a familiar voice, like the sweetest pain. He sings a new song, one that Steve doesn't know.

I painted your room at midnight

So I'd know yesterday was over

I put all your books on the top shelf

Even the one with the four leaf clover

Man, I'm getting older

I took all your pictures off the wall

And wrapped them in a newspaper blanket

I haven't slept in what seems like a century

And now I can barely breathe

Just like a crow chasing the butterfly

Dandelions lost in the summer sky

When you and I were getting high as outer space

I never thought you'd slip away

I guess I was just a little too late

Your words still serenade me

Your lullabies won't let me sleep

I've never heard such a haunting melody

Oh, it's killing me

You know I can barely breathe

Just like a crow chasing the butterfly

Dandelions lost in the summer sky

When you and I were getting high as outer space

I never thought you'd slip away

I guess I was just a little too late

The last soft tones finish and Steve takes a deep breath, shaky and uncertain. He loves his new life, loves what he's doing, studying to save lives, and yet...

It's almost funny. They broke up a year ago, yet Eddie never left him behind. There was no pressure to get back together, no unwanted declarations of love, just...showing. Steve told Eddie that he needed actions, not words, and here he was, for a year, giving Steve the space he needed but always checking in, always making sure Steve was okay.

Eddie's words were his actions and Steve finally understands how to break his own cycle. Being alone doesn't mean he's lonely. Not when Eddie's thoughts never leave him.

Not when he remembers the four leaf clover he scribbled into his textbook.

When he says he always thinks of Steve when seeing dandelions, so bright and comforting, like home.

The nights they spent together, drunk on each other's presence.

And the melody Steve always hummed when he got out of shower.

He reaches for his phone, their careful messages blinking at him, making him wonder how this love can feel so distant yet so real.

I hope your classes are going well, Stevie.

Wayne says hi. He says he'll call you next Tuesday.

I hope you found what you were looking for.

I hope you're happy.

I'm thinking about you, always.

He types something cheesy and ridiculous, but he can't help himself. He just feels loved, seen.

What if I told you that you aren't too late, crow?

His phone dings back almost immediately and he smiles.

#steddie #steddie drabble #steddie songfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie song rec #stranger things #stranger things drabble

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bitchlessdino · 4 months

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Would you like a receipt? Pt. 1

In Valentines collaboration with @svthub hosted by my wifey @wongyuseokie, pt 2 out now! Pairing: Childhood bf!junhui x working class gn!reader Genre: fluff, slight angst, slice of life Word count: 2.9k tags: second chances, exes to ???, childhood friend/boyfriend!junhui, spontaneous dates, misunderstandings, smut in part 2!!! Summary: Coming across a grade school ex-boyfriend while you worked a shitty seasonal job around Valentines was not in your 2024 bingo card. author note: to sweet mio at @skyechild i apologize in advance for making you wait for the second half. I promise it'll be worth the wait. but yes! i am your one and only cupid. I hope you enjoy what i have so far. And to answer your ask, idk if i have a favorite thing about myself? Maybe it's the constant desire to look for new things to improve on or my attitude in trying new things? What i look for other people is pretty simple tho. That would be ease. I'd like if someone felt comfortable with me and vice versa. if i can make someone's day by making them laugh or just existing then that would be great. happy valentines day mio! From yours Truly, Cupid💘

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic

Valentine's Day has always been a bit of a hit or miss for you. The last time you remember eagerly anticipating the holiday was back in high school. Since then, the allure of celebrating love and romance seemed to fade away, as you realized that not everything in the world is adorned in shades of pink and red. Valentine's Day became a luxury, a whimsical indulgence that felt distant and impractical for someone navigating a world that often left little room for such extravagances. Life, for you, was a series of tasks, responsibilities, and the constant juggling act of making ends meet.

From the time you were in high school, you entered the realm of adulthood, where dreams sometimes took a backseat to the more immediate needs of providing for your family. The dreams you put on hold lingered in the recesses of your mind, awaiting their turn to be fulfilled. Working tirelessly, you made sacrifices, dedicating yourself to a job that demanded your energy and time. Despite the challenges, you pressed on, ensuring the well-being of your family, who toiled alongside you, if not even harder.

Now, as an adult working a part-time job that offers a slightly better paycheck than your previous one, you’ve grown used to the matter. While the financial gains may not be monumental, every improvement counts, especially when compared to the downfalls of your previous workplace.

Amidst the whirlwind of your daily hustle, Valentine's Day transforms into a distant echo of the past–a time when celebrations were carefree and seemingly attainable. However, for you, navigating the world feels akin to maneuvering on an almost empty tank. In this moment, mere existence becomes a means to sustain yourself.

“Is this a gift? If so, would you like it to be gift-wrapped for you?”

The middle-aged man raises an eyebrow, smacking that mint gum that doesn’t seem to mask his nicotine-coated breath. “Is it extra?”

“It’s two dollars extra.”

Usually, you’d really sell the idea that the highest premium quality wrapping paper would be used to then be topped off with a satin ribbon that truly pulls it all together, but for such a customer, you know you’d be wasting your breath.

He scoffs, snatching the bag off the counter. “Are you trying to scam me? Fuck that shit.”

You let a sigh of relief slip past your lips the moment he made his way out the sliding door, muttering to yourself about the smell. You reach down for your Powerade hidden on a bottom shelf of the counter you stand behind, hoping this supposed ‘power’ would relinquish itself to you for another long shift.

It’s the day before Valentine's Day, which means the rush has become a regular occurrence since about a week ago. The store is bursting with vibrant displays of flowers, stuffed animals clutching oversized lollipops, and decadent heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. Not such a bad gig if you look at it.

However, the true predicament lies in the presence of aggressive customers, drawn to discounts like magnets. They're all about grabbing anything and everything that's on sale, making things more complicated than they need to be. It's like they're trying to see how far they can push things and make your day even crazier. Dealing with them adds an extra layer of chaos to the already busy scene as if you haven’t lost faith in humanity enough.

“I bought this yesterday and it’s DIGUSTING! I want a full refund and extra compensation for my time and taste buds being wasted on this disgusting excuse of a candy.”

Popping open the box revealed a sorry sight–almost half the candies were missing as if they'd gone on a little taste adventure without an invite. The poor box looked like it had been through a candy apocalypse, so messed up that I couldn't even be sure if it originally belonged to our store.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry you're dissatisfied with our products. However, because the box is so damaged and half of the contents have been consumed we cannot accept this return,” you respond in your most polite service voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Where the hell is your manager? The customer is always right!”

At last, a wave of relief crashes over you like a superhero arriving just in the nick of time during closing hours. The once bustling crowd has dwindled, allowing you to begin the task of rearranging items and securing the cash register, signaling the imminent conclusion of yet another busy day.

Just when you're on the verge of clocking out and calling it a day, a sudden interruption unfolds at the entrance. A lone figure materializes outside, softly tapping on the glass as if pleading to be granted entry.

"Please," his voice is all muffled through the glass, "I know you're about to close, but pretty please! I just need to grab something real quick. I already know exactly what I need!"

It’s not every day you see a man of his looks and caliber beg to be given access to a candy store as if he were a determined child. There's this undeniable air of urgency about him–as if he’d die if we didn’t get what he needed–but it doesn't overshadow his perfectly proportioned features that illuminate under the evening street lights. Ultimately, you decide to approach the door, swiftly undoing the top lock of the door and allowing him inside.

He expresses his gratitude with a grateful clasp of his hands, swiftly navigating through the inventory to grab what he urgently needs. Returning to the counter, you initiate the process of unraveling the closing procedures, all the while fervently hoping that no one else decides to join the stranger in last minute browsing.

"Sorry," he apologizes as he drops his items on the counter: several heart-shaped boxes and a bear clutching a mini Mylar balloon that shouts 'I love you,' with a small box of chocolates in its other paw. A classic and popular choice.

“That’s a lot of chocolate. Big family?”

He shakes his head, "Nah, these are for a company thing. I've been busting my butt for weeks, and the one simple task I get, I can't even manage it until the last minute."

"Got it. And the bear? Picking up a last-minute surprise for your girlfriend too?"

A slightly offended look crosses his face. "Oh, if I had a girlfriend, I’d do way more than make up my tardiness with a teddy bear.” He holds the fluffy creature in his hand, “This is just for my mom. So, if you ever spot a lady with my face and long hair, please, keep it on the down-low."

You chuckle softly, bagging up his purchases. "I'll remember that. Cash or credit?"

He extends his hand, revealing his credit card with his full name on display. As you sound out the name in your head, it strikes you as unique yet oddly familiar. You run the card through the machine, unaware that the customer is squinting at you, also trying to place where he might know you from.

"Hey, have we met before? You seem really familiar," he questions.

"Uh, not sure, but your name does ring a bell," you reply as you hand the card back. "Haven't come across too many Wen Junhuis."

"Wait, how do you know my name?" he questions.

"Well, it's on your credit card, sir," You respond with straightforward precision.

"True, but no one has picked it up as quickly and accurately as you did. Maybe we do know each other."

You shrug. "Maybe so. I think the last time I heard a name like that was back in elementary school. A classmate maybe."

"Hold on, you couldn't be Y/n, right?" he questions, his eyes widening with realization.

You take a brief pause to grasp the implication, acknowledging it with a nod. "Been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

His smile widened across his cheeks, evoking memories of a similar grin on a boy more than half his age. "Yeah. Well, I be damned. I'm surprised you remember my name."

"It's pretty distinctive; I'm surprised you remember mine."

He scoffs. "You are a core memory, thank you very much. One of the nicest and coolest people in our grade. God, remember our first Valentines?"

"Yes," you softly chuckle, the memories of childhood innocence flooding back. "I begged my mom to get these really nice scented Valentine cards to give to the class."

"And you gave me the lemon one because I love lemons, and I gave you one of the hologram cards of a cat that smiles when you flip it on its side."

"I was so excited to show my sister, and I just know she was so jealous."

"Yeah, where did the time go?" he sighs, his smile turning wistful on his lips.

You shake your head, still smiling from the unexpected trip down memory lane, and finally, hand off his gifts back to him. "Would you like a receipt?"

"No, I'm good. So,” He leans over the counter curiously, “What are you doing this Valentine's?"

"Working the day. I'll probably just grab takeout for dinner and head home. You?"

"It's a workday,” he says proceeding to grab his things. “So most of the day is spent in the office. But, I'm free the rest of the evening…would it be weird if I asked you out for Valentine's Day?" he nervously proposes.

You raise an eyebrow, slightly taken aback but intrigued. "You want me to be your Valentine?"

"Couldn't hurt," he nonchalantly shrugged, a wry grin playing on his lips. Then, as if a light bulb flickered to life above his head, an idea dawned on him, sparking mischief in his eyes.

"Unless you've got a 200-pound, all-muscle boyfriend ready to beat my ass," he quips, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. The words linger in the air, forming a playful challenge and a subtle admission that, just maybe, he wasn't entirely impervious to consequences.

It harks back to a past altercation, one of those rare 'couple quarrels' you had. The promise was made in jest—that you'd leave him if he ever pulled on your hair again, and he'd have to face a burly 200-pound muscle man. Though uttered in humor with no evidence of said muscle man, it struck a chord of genuine concern in his little boy heart, and he kept that promise until the end of your relationship. The memory lingered, manifesting now in an unmistakable charm, a blend of audacity, bravado, and humor that fills the air with laughter and unadulterated ease.

You chuckle. “Lucikly, I don’t, but I don’t know you. Who knows what kind of person you, or I, have become in the last fifteen or so years? Maybe I'm a bitch.”

"Well, as long as there’s no one else in the picture, I see no problem. Bitch all you want to me." he grins.

Your expression shifts into a playful contemplation, "Why me? I'm pretty sure there are plenty of people out there dying for a dinner date with you. I mean, the last thing we shared was a juice box."

"Maybe I'm hoping to reignite an old spark. If I recall our MASH game correctly, we were supposed to be living in a shack with 20 kids, a dog, and daily commutes on a scooter," Junhui retorts.

"Thank goodness that scenario never played out, but, um, I'm not sure dinner is a good idea."

As the banter unfolds, you realize it's been an eternity since you've experienced the thrill of a proper date. The mere thought of dressing up, the nervous excitement before meeting someone, and the shared laughter over a romantic meal become fragments of a distant past, like pages in a cherished novel stored away on a forgotten shelf.

“We never know unless we try, right?” He says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“You always hit on exes that you stumble upon on a random Tuesday?”

“Only the pretty ones.” Junhui grins, swiftly extracting a candy box from the bag. With a quick scribble on the side, he hands it to you. “If you change your mind. Happy Valentine's Day.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you accept the candy. “Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Jun.”

You depart with a box of candy in hand when your shift ends, Junhui's number hastily scribbled on the top, the ink still fresh as that abrupt encounter. As you make your way home, the city lights shimmering in the distance, you find your thoughts circling back to his audacious proposition.

The weight of the candy box seems to mirror the gravity of the decision before you. The city streets, now quieter in the late evening, echo with dilemma of pursuing his offer. You can't deny the charm that lingers in the air—a mix of confusion, nostalgia, and an unexpected connection. The mere act of considering his offer adds a layer of excitement to the night, anticipation for plans that have been yet set in motion.

As you unlock the door to your apartment, the scent of familiarity welcomes you warmly for once, likely due to the refreshing end of your night. You set the candy aside–already having memorized Junhui's number–and with a decisive tap, you enter his number into your phone. The screen lights up with his name, a digital beacon inviting you to venture into uncharted territory. As you send a quick message, the city outside continues its gentle hum, and you can't help but feel giddy. You’re eleven all over again.

The memory of Junhui's charismatic grin lingers in your mind, a subtle tug at the edges of your thoughts the moment you hit send, and you throw the phone aside, letting yourself get rid of the electrifying nerves running through your body. When you hear the notification going off–Junhui’s name on display–you realize there’s no going back.

The following day, you’re excited about living for once. Delighted to have something to look forward to after work, you board today's bus with a genuine smile on your face, a subtle change that doesn't escape the notice of the bus drivers, who have grown accustomed to your early presence by now.

As the bus carries you through the familiar townscape, you can't help but revel in the subtle shift in the air. The usual humdrum of daily life seems to have given way to a vibrant undercurrent of anticipation for the holiday. The ordinary scenes outside the window take on a slightly pink hue, and you find yourself savoring the details that often go unnoticed illuminated with festive decor.

Work hours also pass with a newfound energy, and the anticipation for the evening grows with each passing minute, even with the rambunctious customers buying more gifts just in the nick of time. The mundane tasks of the day become a mere backdrop to the vibrant scene that awaits you once the clock strikes the end of the workday.

Today, the world outside the candy store seems to radiate brighter than any other day has. The street lights gradually flickering on, usually just a backdrop to your daily grind, now beckon with a promise of surprises. As the day unfolds, you find yourself counting down the hours until your appointment time arrives and you quickly change into your Valentine's date attire, anticipating Junhui's reappearance.

Time moves forward—one hour, two hours, three hours. Doubts begin to creep in. Were you merely indulging in wishful thinking at this point?

The rose-tinted glasses, which once painted the day with a hopeful hue, must have started to expire. Now, a subtle gray takes over, bringing you back to the stark reality of the passing moments. The initial excitement begins to wane, replaced by a tinge of disappointment and a hint of uncertainty.

As the clock ticks away, doubts and questions swirl in your mind like a gathering storm. The vibrant anticipation that once filled the air begins to dissipate, leaving behind a quiet unease.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror, the Valentine's date attire now carrying a touch of wistfulness. The city outside, once alive with the promise of a special evening, now takes on a different tone. The street lights, initially beacons of excitement, cast shadows that dance with anxiety and unease. The imminent arrival of buses amplifies a fleeting thought–maybe, just maybe, you can still catch it if you run.

Taking a leap of faith, you hastily gather your belongings and make your way to the bus station, adhering to your initial plan—opting for takeout in the solitude of home, if restaurants are still an option at this hour. Amidst the uncertainty, your phone succumbs to the lack of power, its screen plunged into darkness, mirroring the tone of your night.

The familiarity of home brings no comfort, only disheartenment. You set aside the dinner you had envisioned for tonight, plugging in your phone to replenish its drained battery, intentionally avoiding any further interaction with the outside world for the remainder of the night.

When your phone finally regains its power, messages burst to life in an instant, one particular message standing out, beckoning attention. That is, of course, if you were still around to witness it.

Junhui: I’m so sorry! You will not believe the day I had. My office was bombarding me all day with extra work and i only left now. Please tell me its not too late.

P.S. and here's that valentine i wanted to give to you <3 i hope you like it as much as this fic so far

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brbsoulnomming · 8 months

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 19

-----

This time, it's Steve that wakes them up in the middle of the night.

Eddie's disoriented for a moment, unsure what jolted him awake, until he looks over and sees Steve laying on his back in the low light, tense and straining.

"Scoops Ahoy, I work for Scoops Ahoy!" Steve's shouting, the words rough like they're being ripped from his throat. "I already told you!"

Fuck.

"Steve?" Eddie asks, voice raspy from sleep. "Hey, Steve, come on, wake up."

Steve shouts again, jerking like he's struggling against something - or maybe like he's getting hit - and Eddie bolts upright, hands hovering over him.

Should he touch him? What if it makes things worse, what if -

"Steve," he says again, a little louder, as he risks pressing his hand to Steve's chest to shake him a little.

Steve's eyes fly open, and Eddie watches him do the same thing he'd done in the hospital when Dustin jolted him awake - reach one hand down under his bed and reach the other hand out in search of a bed partner.

Only this time, Steve's first hand comes up gripping a baseball bat with fucking nails hammered into it, and his other hand comes into contact with Eddie. There's a quick stab of worry that he's not going to be familiar enough to shake Steve out of it the way Dustin had, especially since Steve's eyes are still unfocused and distant as they land on Eddie.

He must be familiar to something in Steve, though, because he doesn't move after that, watching Eddie and breathing harshly.

"Robin," Steve says a little desperately. "They got her, too, we have to - Erica, Dustin, fuck, I gave them Dustin's name, we have to make sure-"

"Dustin's okay," Eddie manages to get out, all in a rush. "Robin got out, Erica and Dustin are okay."

The vague familiarity shifts into a firm recognition after Eddie speaks, and Steve's eyes focus a little more clearly on him.

"Eddie?" he asks, and Eddie can see Steve trying to sort himself out, to put things back into place. "Vecna. Max, Lucas, are they-"

"Safe," Eddie cuts in. "They're safe, Stevie, everyone's safe."

Steve's quiet for a moment, breathing slowly starting to even out, and then he shifts, eyes roaming over Eddie before settling on his face.

"You too?"

Eddie swallows. "Yeah, me too. I'm here, and we're all safe."

Steve tilts his head, face a little scrunched like he does when he's considering something, then he nods. "Okay."

He sets the bat back down, tucking it under his bed once more, then pushes himself up so he's sitting back against his headboard. Eddie joins him, feeling his own heartbeat start to slow.

"Wasn't sure that was going to work," Eddie admits.

Steve quirks a little smile. "You're my soulmate. You can't lie to me. If you say everyone's safe, then they're safe."

Oh.

"I, uh. Good, that's good, then."

Fuck, Eddie's bad at this.

Except it seems to work for Steve, who just sits there with him.

"Hey, I never asked - are you okay with hiding out here?" Steve says after a while.

Eddie tips his head to stare at him. "Does it look like I've got any other options?"

Steve's shoulders droop a little. "No, yeah, I know that, but - are you okay with it?"

"This is a hell of a lot nicer than the last place I was holed up in." Eddie gives a careless shrug, a little pleased that he can actually manage the motion without pain, now. "Plus, you know, it's got my soulmate, and room service, so I'm pretty good here."

Steve seems to accept that, because he gives an amused little huff and knocks their shoulders together.

"You're the one we need to be worried about, not me. If they find me, you should say I forced you to let me stay here," Eddie says, even though he's pretty sure he knows what Steve's response to that is going to be. "We don't have to tell anyone."

Steve snorts. "If they find you, the first thing I'd do is tell them you're my soulmate and you have every right to be here."

Eddie's breath catches. All right, no, he hadn't known what his response would be. He'd assumed that Steve wouldn't go along with pretending Eddie'd forced him into this, but he hadn't imagined that Steve would want to publicly announce their soulbond like that. "Steve," he whispers, not able to get anything else out.

Steve waits for him, though, the two of them sitting up in bed, not quite touching each other but still so damn close.

"Claim your soulmate rights, then," Eddie says after a while. "So they can't question you too."

"No," Steve replies without hesitation. "They're not going to get you for this, Eds. If I need to be there to show them that you're not lying, I will."

His heart immediately lodges itself right in his throat. "You don't want to do that."

"If they bring you in? Damn right I do. They can handcuff me right next to you."

Before all this, the mention of him and Steve and handcuffs on one or both of them might have got him thinking something very, very different. It's a testament to how much they've been through that his mind doesn't even go there.

Or, really, it's a testament to the fact that he can still feel Steve's heart beating rabbit fast under his palm, can still hear him screaming Scoops Ahoy, I work for Scoops Ahoy! that makes him immediately and viscerally opposed to the idea.

"Maybe I don't want you to." It comes out snappier than he'd meant it to, and he winces.

Steve watches him, head tilted just a little like he's waiting for something.

To see if Eddie's lying, he thinks.

When nothing comes, Steve nods to himself. "Too far?" he asks quietly.

Eddie considers that for a moment. "No," he admits, because he doesn't want to deflect and any other answer would be a lie. He shifts, until he can find the spot on Steve's ribs where he'd seen you know all I care about is you and your safety earlier, and rubs his thumb over it. "I don't want you to go through anything like that ever again, especially not for me."

Steve sucks in a breath, though Eddie doesn't think he can feel anything with his shirt in between their touch.

"Not fair," Steve murmurs. "I don't know where my response to you is."

Eddie swallows roughly. "Inside of my left thigh."

For a moment, as Steve shifts a little, he thinks he might actually reach for it - doesn't know what the fuck he's going to do if he does, because there's no way Eddie's going to be able to hide his reaction - but Steve just sighs.

"It's just the Hawkins PD," he says softly. "It'll be different."

He guesses he can't really protest that, even though he kind of wants to. Steve was the one who went through it, and if Steve says it'll be different, he needs to accept it, just - he still doesn't like it, doesn't like the idea of Steve having to put himself in that position just for Eddie. He doesn't say anything, just sits there with their only point of contact the hand on Steve's ribs that he can't bring himself to move away.

"You talked to me again." Steve's voice is quiet - they both know he did, so it's not about the words. It's a prompt, the same way Eddie took to prompting Steve when they were planning for Vecna.

"I was worried I was going to lose you," Eddie admits. "Me being mad at you for high school shit felt overwhelmingly stupid, in the face of that. I didn't want to risk that no one else knew you were lying about not being hurt worse."

Something complicated flickers through Steve's expression, and he tips his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it out, thinks about asking what is it - but he doesn't want to put Steve in a position where he has to lie or deflect if he doesn't want to say it. So he settles for, "Will you tell me?"

He can see Steve's throat working for a moment before he answers.

"I tried not to lie, when they asked me things," Steve says, so quiet Eddie can barely hear him. "I knew I had two soulmates by then, but I didn't know one was Robin, and I didn't - I didn't want the first real thing you guys got from me after so long to be that. Half truths are easy for me, anyway. But some things-"

He cuts off, head thumping back against the wall.

"Steve," Eddie says, slow and gentle. "Can I touch you more?"

Steve nods, and Eddie scoots closer so he can carefully pull Steve into a hug. Steve sinks into him, wrapping his arms around him without hesitation, and Eddie thinks fuck it, clinging on as tight as he can.

"You don't have to look at them," Eddie mumbles. "You won't ever have to see them if you don't want to. But I'm proud of those words on my skin, Stevie. They mean you survived, they mean my soulmate is a fucking badass."

The breath that Steve pulls in sounds ragged. "Robin said that, too. That every time she felt something getting written on her, she knew it meant I was still there. She helped me talk to you, after. I just - I wasn't sure it was you, or anyone in Hawkins, but I couldn't risk it. I was afraid they'd come after you."

Eddie's not sure what to say to that. He settles for burying his face into Steve's neck, and just breathing him in. They stay like that for a long while, until finally Steve hisses softly and starts to pull away.

"Can't hold my stomach muscles like that for so long yet," he says, and Eddie doesn't think he's imagining that Steve sounds reluctant.

"You wanna lay down?" Eddie asks before he's really thought it through.

It takes a little bit of shifting around to find a position that's comfortable for both of them. They end up on their backs, sides pressed together, half turned so they can look at each other.

"Hi," Eddie says once they're settled, hearing the dopey grin in his voice and completely uncaring.

"Hi," Steve replies, his own smile soft and pleased and full of a silly affection. "Oh, hey, do you want to tell everyone tomorrow?"

"That we're soulmates?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah. I mean, you don't gotta let me hold your hand and stuff like I do with Robs, unless you want-"

"I want," Eddie cuts in, before Steve can say what else he does with Robin that he won't be doing with Eddie. "If you want, I mean. I don't know, I'm new at this soulmate stuff. I'm counting on you to be my Yoda here."

Steve wrinkles his nose. "That's the little green guy, right? Who talks in riddles?"

Eddie huffs out a little laugh, watches Steve's eyes crinkle in amusement for a moment before he responds. "You and Dustin had a secret handshake with a lightsaber battle and you're calling Yoda the little green guy who talks in riddles?"

Steve shrugs, the blankets shifting with the movement. "I call it like I see it. Little green riddle guy and the teddy bears."

Eddie groans, tipping his head away. "I can't look at you right now, man."

Steve bumps their shoulders together - and then does it again, and again, and again, until Eddie finally gives up the act and looks at him.

"How about we figure this out together?" Steve asks.

Oh.

"Yeah, I can do that," Eddie agrees. "Let's tell the hoard tomorrow."

—

They tell Robin first, the next morning.

Not that there's really much to tell. Once the rest of the party has absconded to the living room with breakfast and the three of them are alone in the kitchen, she immediately rounds on Steve and lifts up her shirt, pointing accusingly at I don't think you're clever written just below her belly button.

"Really, Steve?" she demands. "What, were you and Eddie missing a few with the demobat bites, so you just had to create some more to make up for it?"

…fuck, despite them talking about Robin half the time, Eddie had completely forgotten she was going to get those lies written on her, too. He swallows, trying to ignore how loudly his heart is beating.

She looks between them, though, and her demeanor softens.

"Oh," she says quietly.

The next thing Eddie knows, he's getting folded up into a hug with her and Steve - both of them are holding onto him so tightly that he can't really tell who's grabbing what part of him, that it honestly hurts a little, and he never wants it to stop.

"They've always meant something different to me," Eddie says, somehow able to admit that now that he's completely wrapped up in the two of them, when he couldn't say it directly to Steve last night.

"They're the only reason I knew I hadn't lost my soulmate before I told him I knew who he was," Robin replies, and oh, that must be her chin hooked over his shoulder.

"I told him," Steve says softly, voice muffled from somewhere in Eddie's hair. "About them being a lifeline."

They stay like that for longer than Eddie can keep track of - for longer than they probably should, with his and Steve's injuries, and with the rest of the party out in the living room.

Eventually, Robin pulls back to look at him, her eyes narrowed a little.

"You're mine now, too," she tells him. "You know that, right?"

Part of him wants to brush it off and say something about how he'd known for a while that she and Steve were a package deal, or make a joke about how possessive this weird little party is, but - the words die on his lips as he looks back and forth between her and Steve, sees the almost identical solemn expressions on their face.

"I, uh. Yeah, I'm working on getting that."

He is. He's working on believing all of them when they say that he's one of them - and when they show it to him, over and over.

Steve reaches out to both of them, taking one of their hands in each of his and lacing their fingers together, giving a brief squeeze before he lets go. "Ready?"

"No," Eddie grumbles. "But let's do this anyway."

He takes a deep breath, like he's fortifying himself, then follows Steve and Robin out into the living room.

"Are you guys done having your soulmate cry session?" Erica asks without even looking up from the mountain of syrup drenched French toast she's working on.

"Erica!" Lucas hisses.

"What?" Erica demands, looking up to point her fork between Steve and Eddie. "Did you want to wait for those two idiots to bluster around figuring out how to tell us, like we didn't already know?"

Mike - kind of looks like a fish, gaping at them, and Eddie doesn't manage to hide his somewhat hysterical giggle. "We didn't already know!"

Erica switches her gaze over to Mike, raising a very judgmental eyebrow. "That sounds like a Mike Wheeler problem."

"We didn't know," Lucas says. "We just kind of suspected after the whole 'oh yeah, Eddie used to talk to his soulmate like Steve and Robin did' thing."

Shit.

Okay, yeah, in hindsight he guesses Robin admitting to talking to her soulmate as well wasn't a cover at all now that he knows everyone knew about her and Steve's soulmate situation.

"He's also living in your house and wearing your clothes, Steve," Nancy points out.

"For almost a week," Dustin adds. "The only other people who've stayed over that long are me and Robin."

Steve sputters. "Because he's on the lam!"

Eddie smacks a hand over his own mouth so that hysterical giggle doesn't become semi hysterical laughter.

"On the lam?" Max scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Okay, he's been on the lam in your house, in your clothes, for almost a week. We weren't supposed to wonder?"

Steve groans. "Okay, fine, but I'd do it even if he wasn't my soulmate. You guys know that, right? That I'd do the same for any of you?" There's a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, that Eddie thinks he can only pick up because they've been in each other's space so much - like Steve honestly thinks there's a chance the rest of them don't know how much he's willing to do for them.

Erica tilts her head at him, watching Steve closely as she considers that. "Okay, then, I'll take your teal sweater."

There's a beat of silence.

"What?" Erica asks. "He may be a nerd and a dumbass, but at least he has decent fashion sense."

"I want the red sweater," Dustin announces.

"The blue and yellow striped polo!" Lucas chimes in.

"The gray jacket!" Max calls.

Robin bursts into laughter, sounding like it's erupting out of her after too long of holding it back, and Eddie refuses to look at her because if he does he's going to -

His eyes make contact with hers as she bends over, cackling, and nope, that's it, he's laughing too.

Max is whispering something in El's ear when he looks back over at them, making El light up a little before she says, "I would like the green plaid button up."

Which prompts Will to perk up, bumping her shoulder with his and going, "No, El, that's not fair, come on."

El gives him a tiny smile, something almost mischievous in her eyes. "If you get the purple one we can share them."

"Done," Will agrees.

"This was not an invitation for you shitheads to raid my closet!" Steve bitches, looking between them all like he isn't sure if he should be flattered or irritated, and mostly just coming across as that fond exasperation that Eddie already knows so well.

"Kind of sounds like it was, man," Argyle informs him, with Jonathan nodding solemnly in agreement.

Eddie's pretty sure they're both a little stoned, which is kind of impressive considering it's just past 10am, but who is he to judge?

"…I wouldn't turn down the blue Henley," Jonathan says after a moment.

Eddie sputters. "Uh-uh, nope, that one's mine, Byers, I've already been wearing it and everything."

"Not the dark blue one, the light blue one," Nancy puts in.

"No one gets any of his khakis!" Robin manages to get out in between giggles. "I already have dibs on those."

Dustin makes a face at her. "You have dibs on everything."

"Soulmate privileges," she replies matter-of-factly.

Steve is suspiciously silent. It doesn't seem like his input is actually needed at this point, considering all of them have worked themselves all up and are gleefully letting themselves get distracted with something that isn't the open gates or Upside Down creatures or the police, but Eddie glances at him out of the corner of his eye anyway. He looks bemused - like he can't quite figure out what's going on here, but he doesn't want to interrupt it.

"Mike, do you want to claim something?" El asks - almost politely, like she's just worried Mike hadn't gotten his turn.

Eddie's pretty sure if it was someone else asking that question, they'd get a full on Mike Wheeler scowl, but she just gets a little huff.

"Why would I want anything of Steve's?" Mike retorts.

Nancy makes this little noise of disagreement. "Mike doesn't need to claim anything, he already has-"

"Nancy!" Mike hisses, sounding horrified.

Max immediately pounces on that. "Oh my God, what is it?"

Mike scrambles up from his spot by Will and El, like he thinks he can just tackle Nancy and solve the problem. "Nancy don't!"

"Christmas sweater!" Nancy announces from where she's ducked behind Jonathan and Argyle, who look somewhat confused but perfectly pleased to be there.

"Christmas sweater?" Lucas repeats. "Wait, the reindeer one? That's Steve's?"

"You kept it?" Steve asks. His face is doing this smug, cocky grin, but Eddie can hear the faint note of surprise in his voice.

"Kept it? He wore it the last two Christmas breaks," Dustin retorts, somehow looking even more smug than Steve. "When did you even get it?"

"New Years 84," Mike grumbles, apparently resigned to the fact that he's not going to get at Nancy as he settles back in between El and Will. "Mom and Dad made us go to this stupid midnight celebration as a stupid family and it was stupid cold and no one told me it was going to be outside half the stupid time. Steve still had the stupid reindeer sweater even though it wasn't Christmas anymore-"

"The Christmas season lasts until New Years, everyone knows that," Steve cuts in.

Mike rolls his eyes so hard that it looks painful.

"It's okay to like Steve," El informs Mike. "We all do."

Mike turns red, which is expected. Steve's ears go pink, which - is not expected, but is both really fucking adorable and a little sad. Does he really not get how much these people like him?

Eddie'll have to talk to Robin to see how she's working on that, he thinks.

"I don't - that's not -" Mike stammers.

"Friends don't lie," El says seriously.

Or at least, it seems serious, until he catches the glint in her eye, realizes it looks remarkably similar to the one in Will's as he adds, "Yeah, Mike. Friends don't lie."

If Eddie didn't know better, he'd believe those two really were twins.

"I like the reindeer sweater," El adds, graciously giving Mike an out.

"How about this," Steve says. "If we all stop plotting to steal my clothes, El gets a reindeer sweater for Christmas this year and everyone gets a pool party when Eddie's out of the woods."

Eddie doesn't want to ask if Steve means when he's healed up enough for a pool party or when his name has been cleared. Instead, he goes for, "What if I want a Christmas sweater?"

Steve gives him this bitchy little look.

Unfortunately for Steve, Eddie just thinks it's cute.

"Fine, everyone gets a pool party and Christmas sweaters," Steve says. "Deal?"

The younger members of the party all look at each other.

"Deal," Erica says, at the same time as Mike goes, "Ugh, fine."

Steve rolls his eyes. "All right, what's the plan for the day?"

—

It becomes a routine over the next few days. The Harrington house seems to fall into a kind of headquarters for the party, and from after breakfast to after dinner, there's always at least a handful of them over.

Robin and Eddie put their feet down in unison over Steve attempting to sign himself up for the first patrol, and get him to agree to wait until his stitches are out by the combined forces of their glares. Steve sulks a bit, but settles for the less physically intensive shit like manning walkies, restocking their first aid kits, volunteering at the high school, and making sure everyone is fed. It makes it easier on Eddie, too, means he can help Steve in the kitchen or take his turn manning the walkies, distract the kids by talking D&D, keeps him from feeling useless.

Eddie won't admit it, but part of him is nervous about Robin finally being able to come stay over at Steve's. He'd told her he'd stay in the same room as Steve until she was able to, after all, and if she tells him to get his ass back over to the guest room, he will. Most of him doesn't really think she would - not since both she and Steve know about his nightmares - but it's, you know, a possibility. Especially because the only other option is for all of them to share Steve's bed, or one of them to sleep on the floor, and he just.

Well.

He can't sleep on the floor, not yet. He's not healed all the way.

If he's really honest with himself, he's nervous because he wants all three of them to share Steve's bed. He wants both of them close by, wants to be able to wake up and have them right there, and he feels guilty about it. With him there, there's no way Steve and Robin could get up to any kind of celebratory thank fuck we're alive activities.

Granted, he's not sure Steve's up for much of those activities, but from what he hears on the rumor mill, Steve's a pretty resourceful guy. Eddie's sure they could get up to something. They've disappeared into the bathroom together a couple of times, and he doesn't think they've been in there long enough for anything too heavy - not that he's got enough experience in anything to know, but still, they could -

No, fuck, that isn't the kind of thing he needs to think about for so, so many reasons, and he does his best to push all of that right out of his head.

There's no reason to be nervous.

When the others go home for the night, and it's just the three of them left helping each other climb up the stairs - it turns out there really isn't.

Eddie's leaning half on Robin, and she doesn't even hesitate as she turns to guide them both to Steve's room. Robin's up first in the bathroom, then Eddie, and when he comes out and Steve goes in - the bed's already been turned down, the pile of pillows he and Steve have been using arranged to better suit three people.

Robin's sprawled on one end of the bed, the opposite side that Steve likes. Eddie hadn't really thought about sleeping arrangements. The obvious configuration is to put Steve in the middle, but he knows Steve needs to be on the end, closest to the door and to the nail studded bat he's got under the bed. Which must mean -

"Come on," she says, scooting over a little.

Eddie swallows, wordlessly shuffling into bed and settling in the middle.

"You better not kick," Robin tells him.

And he's got a great comeback for that, really, he does, something about her elbows and his wounded guts, but he must take too long, because her expression goes more sober.

"You almost died, Eddie," she says softly. "You're going to be the PB&J in this sandwich for a while, until we can both get that image out of our heads."

"I, uh. I didn't know," he says, which sounds so dumb he can hardly believe it, but she at least seems to get what he's saying.

"Well, you do now," she tells him matter-of-factly. "Better get used to it."

Steve's soft humming grows a little louder as he comes out of the bathroom, climbing into bed on Eddie's other side.

There's more than enough room for all of them, but they're still so close, the three of them, and Eddie isn't sure if it's everything he's ever wanted or if it makes him want to run again.

Both.

"Light off or on?" Steve asks them.

Eddie glances at Robin, but she's looking at him, so he pulls in a breath and thinks about it for a moment. "Off," he says eventually.

Steve clicks off the lamp on his nightstand, then settles back down. None of them are touching, but both Steve and Robin are so close that he can almost feel them, and he wants - fuck he wants them closer. He feels kind of pathetic about it, partly because it goes against the image he's worked so hard to maintain and partly because he knows he can't ask for it. He's too afraid to ask for it, to be told no, that's weird, you're a grown man and you shouldn't want to cuddle with your soulmate and your soulmate's soulmate.

But then Steve reaches across him and takes Robin's hand, lacing their fingers together. Their joined hands rest on Eddie's chest, careful of where his injuries are, and Eddie - tries not to move, tries not to tremble, tries not to even breathe hard. Slowly, he lifts his own hand and settles it over theirs, fingers curling to hold on. Steve gives a contented little hum, and Robin echoes it on his other side, and Eddie -

Eddie closes his eyes against the sting of tears, sudden and shocking, sandwiched between the two people who've made him feel the safest he's been since Uncle Wayne. There's a thought there, lurking in the back of his mind, but he's asleep long before he can sort it out.

—

The next day, he's sitting at the kitchen table with Robin, watching Steve fry up some eggs and bacon, when it comes back to him.

"Are Mrs. Byers and Hopper the only Hawkins adults who know about all of this?" he asks.

Robin and Steve look at each other, and Robin shrugs.

"Technically, you and Steve are adults now, but yeah. Why?" Robin asks.

Eddie frowns. "Something Mike said. How Joyce left you guys here, and Nancy told him she wouldn't have done that if they weren't all safe."

There's another, longer look exchanged between Steve and Robin.

"The Byers house was listed for sale for a while before they moved," Steve says, a little reluctantly. "Their family's been through a lot. After Hopper - I think she just wanted out."

Eddie's mouth opens, closes as he thinks better of blurting out his initial reaction, then opens again. "So, she just - moved across the country, leaving the only ones who knew anything about what's been going on here as a bunch of high schoolers and one who only just graduated? Even though every time you guys had thought it was over in the past, it came back?"

Robin's flat, steely look tells him exactly what she thinks of Joyce Byers moving to California and leaving them all behind without her needing to say a damn thing. Steve looks like he's physically repressing himself from saying something bitchy, and turns all his focus back onto carefully flipping the eggs without breaking the yolks.

"Shit," Eddie says absently. "Can we tell my uncle? He might take a little convincing, but he won't freak out, and I can guarantee he won't ever leave us."

"I'm not going to object to another actual adult being in the know," Robin says, but she's looking over at Steve.

His jaw has tightened, and he moves the pan over to an unused burner and turns off the heat. Eddie bristles, ready to leap to his uncle's defense, but when he looks closer at Steve, he realizes he seems - nervous.

"We haven't signed any NDAs yet, this time," Robin says, voice gentle.

"And Eddie hasn't signed one at all," Steve says, a little slowly, like he's thinking carefully.

"I'm not scared of any government types, anyway," Eddie adds with a teasing little laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

It makes Robin grimace, though, and Steve scowl.

"It's not funny, man, you don't know what these guys are capable of," Steve says.

Eddie holds up his hands placatingly. "You're right, I don't. I shouldn't have laughed."

Steve relaxes a little, digging for some plates and dishing out the eggs and bacon. "Sorry. Nancy and I used to argue about it. She wasn't scared of them either."

He looks at Robin, who makes an encouraging little noise.

"My grandpa Otis fought in World War Two. He used to tell me stories, when I was little, and sometimes he'd talk about the Germans disappearing people. One time I told him it was a good thing we lived in America and our government wouldn't do that, and he just kind of smiled at me and said, that's what they say, isn't it?"

Eddie feels a little chill go up his spine.

"Benny Hammond didn't kill himself, and Bob Newby didn't have a heart attack," Robin says quietly. "Nancy and Jonathan got abducted from the park one day just for talking about telling Barb's parents the truth. The more people know about this, the more likely they are to die."

His mouth goes dry. Eddie knew them. Uncle Wayne was friends with Benny Hammond - used to go to the diner after a shift, and on his days off he'd take Eddie, let him sit up at the counter and eat a mountain of hashbrowns cooked almost black, just the way he liked them. Bob Newby never minded Eddie hanging around the RadioShack, gave him a great deal on his amp and helped him pick out his speakers.

"What happened?" he asks.

"They killed Benny because he knew too much," Steve says bluntly. "I don't think people know we know that, but I overheard Hopper talking about it. Bob Newby - demodogs, at the lab."

Eddie breathes out, curling his hands around his coffee mug as he considers. "I don't think I can keep it from him," he says finally. "We've gotta - I have to tell him something."

Steve and Robin look at each other again.

"Okay," Steve says. "It's your call, Eds."

The trust in that statement hits Eddie so hard that he has to close his eyes for a moment, swallowing roughly to get himself under control.

"We gotta do it quick, before they get their shit sorted and we get government agents waving stacks of paper in our faces again," Steve adds.

Eddie nods, opening his eyes so he can look at Steve and Robin. "Okay. How do we get me to him? I can't exactly just waltz into the school gym."

"It'll be easier to get your uncle here," Robin says. "Dustin's been talking to him a little when we volunteer at the school."

"We've been working on a plan," Steve agrees. "Figured we could tell him I want to donate some stuff, but it's too big to fit in my trunk, ask if he'd come to pick it up in his truck."

"Yeah, that'll probably work. Guy's got a heart bigger than anything, he won't be able to resist helping," Eddie says.

Steve shoots him a little smirk. "I'll tell him I know where you get it from, then."

"Do not!" Eddie demands, hiding behind his hair so Steve can't see him smile. "If you try to charm my uncle I'll never forgive you."

"What's the thing the green riddle guy says? There's no trying, only doing?"

"That's it, we're watching The Empire Strikes Back tonight, you get no choice," Eddie says.

Robin groans. "I hate you, Steve, how many times have the munchkins already made us watch that?"

She doesn't say no, though, and Eddie grins for a moment before something occurs to him.

"Wait, is Family Video even still open?" he asks.

"Not yet," Robin says. "It got a little damaged in the fall out. Keith says the owners are planning on opening back up when it's fixed, though."

Steve snorts.

"What?" Eddie asks.

"The idea of the owners actually fixing anything," Robin answers for him.

"They're probably just going to slap new paint over the cracks and call it good," Steve agrees. "But it's fine, I've got it here. The way the kids like to watch them, it was easier just to have their favorites on hand."

Right, Dustin'd said Steve had a VHS collection. Eddie'd kind of assumed that meant, like, Rocky and Top Gun and Rambo, maybe some ones like Romancing the Stone or the Shining for his dates. Past Eddie's really killing him with the assumptions, here, it makes way more sense that Steve'd drop VHS money on the kids.

"Which probably means I have most of your favorites, too," Steve adds with a little smug grin.

He should probably protest that implication that Eddie has the same favorite movies as the kids, but - it's probably not wrong, and really, Eddie's the one winning here if it means Steve's collection is to his taste.

So instead he shoves a forkful of bacon and eggs into his mouth, just so he can talk with his mouth full as he says, "So you'll take Dustin to the high school today to talk to my uncle?"

Steve and Robin pull near identical faces of disgust at him, and he grins at them.

"If you swallow your food before you say anything else, then yes, we'll make plans with your uncle today and watch Star Wars tonight," Robin says.

Eddie considers that for a moment, then nods and finishes chewing. "Deal."

Up next: Steddie grappling with the blurry line between platonic and romantic, and a Munson family reunion!

-----

Part 20

Tag list (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #steddie fic #platonic soulmates stobin #steve and robin and eddie #steddie soulmate au #soulmates au #stranger things

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a-complex-joke · 1 month

Text

The Farmer, The writer, and the Parrot

Farmer x Elliott (x Leo!platonic)

Stardew MASTERLIST

Farmer is nervous to ask Elliott if he would be up to adopting Leo, or any kids in the future. Farmer is also worried about how Leo might react to the offer.

The farmer had been frantic all morning, they had done all their chores for the day.

Yet they had been avoiding even looking at their partner, Elliott the whole time.

For the past week since Leo had moved to town, The Farmer seemed deep in thought and even a bit skittish.

Elliott had indeed taken notice of their behavior, noting the fact that they hadn’t even come home that night, opting to stick by the mines.

Was he worried? Sure. but the farmer often lost track of time and would return later than reasonable, while still waking before himself.

Elliot found it admirable, but Ignoring him was a step too far.

“So where are you going?” Elliott said standing between them and the door.

“I was going to the mines, Clint requested way more Iron than I already had” they smiled not meeting the redhead’s eyes.

“Farmer tell me the truth, have I done something to cause you to grow so distant… is there someone else?”

It broke his heart to admit the insecurities he had been feeling, and on the flip side, it saddened The farmer that they had made him feel so.

“No! There is no one else who could ever compare to you” They put a hand to his cheek.

“Then why have you been ignoring me”

The farmer looked to their feet, mumbling something.

“Darling, you know I can’t hear you when you do that” He lifted their chin.

The farmer took a deep breath before letting it out.

“I know he never really discussed the whole if we wanted kids or not and I know it all of a sudden, but seeing Leo living all alone with no one to take care of him, it just feels like a pin is stabbing my heart. So I've been bringing him meals every day, and last night he was already asleep when I got there but I could tell he was having a nightmare so I just stayed there to comfort him. And what I'm trying to say is I want to adopt Leo, but I was scared of how you’d react”

There was a loud silence in the room as The farmer caught their breath.

“Oh thank Yoba, I thought you were going crazy and acutely doing an order for Clint there for a second, Harvey was on speed dial,” Elliott said releasing a breath himself.

“That’s what you're focusing on, I just spilled that I want us to raise a child together.”

“Hun, I'd love to raise a little army of children if you wanted, honestly the fact that you want to bring Leo into our lives just makes me love you more,” He said embracing his partner.

“But what if that is not what he wants, Linus is perfectly content with being somewhat homeless, and they are close as can be. What if he takes it as an insult” The farmer vented, tears threatening to fall.

“The worst that could happen is that he chooses not to come live with us. Even if we don’t adopt him, he’ll still be in our lives as will we in his. And we’ll care for him no matter what” Elliott said kissing their forehead.

“How did I get so lucky to marry such a caring man”

“It came with the job I guess” He joked.

The two decided to wait till they could commission Robin to build another room, even If Leo rejected the offer they weren’t gonna give up on the prospect of being parents.

To say Robin was ecstatic at the news would have been the biggest understatement since the town ‘learned’ of Mayor Lewis and Manires Affair.

A month had passed before the pair decided they were finally ready to ask Leo. A room decorated with a large window looking out towards the farm, what more could he want?

“Hi Leo, how are you today” Farmer asked sitting down next to him.

“Oh hi, Farmer, I'm good, are you and Mr. Elliott all right, miss Robin said you guys were doing something life-changing, that's why your house was under construction right?”

Oh, Robin and her loud mouth.

“Well, yes we are planning on doing something very different, and it actually why where here. We needed to ask you something really important” Elliot said now getting down to his level.

“Now before we do we want you to know that you can say no, and we won’t hold it against you”

The child nodded.

“We wanted to know if you’d like to come live with us, we want to adopt you. You’d be our child and we’d be your new parents” The farmer was starting to struggle a bit.

“You’d still have the tree house of course but, maybe this could be more of a clubhouse for Jas, Vincnt, and you.”

Leo stayed silent before speaking in a hushed voice

“What if I lose you like I lost my real parents” tears poked out of his eyes.

“Oh hun come here” The farmer pulled Leo onto their lap, ushering Elliott to come closer.

“We don’t plan on going anywhere, and even if we did that won’t be for a long while”

“Will I still be able to visit with the parrots?” Leo questioned.

“As long as they don’t eat all the crop” Elliott tried lightening the mood.

The three sat cuddled in the tree house till Leo had become tired, falling asleep in the arms of the farmer.

“You know I can carry him” Elliott offered as they walked back home.

“no I've got him, he’s really light, we’ve got to fatten him up,” the farmer said a little concerned.

“I'm sure Gus would love to have a taste tester with an exotic pallet”

“Don’t you think we spend enough money there?” “Crab cakes are good, not my fault

They had finally made it home and placed Leo down in his new bed.

“Good night, my little Parrot,” The farmer said kissing him on the forehead

#stardew valley x reader #stardew valley #stardew valley elliott #sdv elliot x reader #sdv leo

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pleasantlyinsincere · 1 year

Text

John and Julian (and Cyn) through the '70s

Last edited on 8 October 2023. All edits listed at the end. Text in between [ ] are my thoughts.

Since John and Yoko had moved into Tittenhurst in August '69 Julian often spend weekends with them there.

"And then I'd live for the weekends I spent with my dad and his new love Yoko at Ascot. My feeling toward their relationship was helped by the way I was treated. I was given incredibly expansive toys to play with and there was always something happening." Julian, 1982

Cynthia describes that she was relieved that Julian got on reasonably well with Yoko, but she was concerned by some of the more bizarre stories of what was going on at Tittenhurst park.

"One of the hardest aspects of letting Julian visit John was accepting that Yoko would presumably look after him when he was there. I didn't know what he would make of her cool manner. But in fact he seemed fine with it, and perhaps it was better for him to have a rather distant step-mother than one who was all over him. He never told me that she was unkind in any way, which was a relief. After that first weekend Peter rang regularly to arrange visits for Julian. Much to my amusement Julian had started to call Yoko Hokey-Cokey." Cynthia Lennon: John, p.314

Photos of Julian at Tittenhurst in 31 January 1970. [John and Yoko only returned from Denmark January 27th, so Julian came to see them the first weekend back.]

Rest of the timeline including pics, quotes and audio behind the cut because it got ridiculously long.

23 February 1970

An article is published in the Evening Post talking about Julian and Kyoko. It mentions that in 1969 there were four months that father and son didn't get to see each other and also spent Christmas apart.

Some quotes from John:

"Julian, last time I saw him, was a bit too protected, like all kids are. It took him two weeks to unwind, when he was last with us." "I'm not a daddy with a set of bricks to play with. When I'm with the kids, they just come along with me and be with me, whatever I'm doing." Link to article

March 1970

Over the New Year John and Yoko had spent some weeks in Denmark with Tony Cox, his new partner and Kyoko. That arrangement had worked quite well and it seems it motivated John and Yoko to try to get closer with Cynthia and Roberto also. It seems in the end not much came of these good intentions.

Up until now, when Julian came to spend the weekend at Tittenhurst Park, it was Les Anthony who shuttled him back and forth between his parents. However, shortly after their return from Denmark, John and Yoko made a conscious effort to spend time with Julian, Cynthia and her fiancé Roberto Bassanini. John later remarked: "All five of us ate together and we saw to it that the children see us all together. Maybe six of us will go on vacation with Kyoko. Julian, Cyn and Roberto, so that everyone feels secure. That's very important. In order to have peace, it's necessary to start inside the family." Lennonology, source L'Express [3/23/70]

Instead John and Yoko left for LA 23 April 1970 to undergo Primal Scream therapy with Janov. They stayed for almost five months in the US and returned to England 15 September 1970.

June 7th, 1970

While John and Yoko are in LA doing their therapy with Janov. One of the topics discussed was John's troubled relationship with his son.

The meeting, which Vivian Janov describes as 'a very strong emotional day for him,' had taken place in April, and John was making an effort to maintain communication with his son. From Los Angeles, John posted a card to Julian today: 'I'm sorry I haven't called or written much. I've been a little sick. We miss you a lot, and send you our love... won't be long till I see you'. Lennonology

After the return from the US in September Julian continued to regularly visit Tittenhurst. During those visits he usually played a lot with Les Anthonys four stepchildren, who at the time were also living on the estate.

"Once Dad had a little white shed built on an island in the middle of a lake on the grounds of the house. He had bought these little white amphi-cars that sped across the lake. The three of us all dressed in white to spend the day there. Crazy, but wonderful."Julian, 1982

In this interview Julian describes going over to Tittenhurst just to be an idiot with his dad but also how scary the big house and his bedroom situation could be to him at night.

[The floorplan of Tittenhurst (LINK) actually shows Julian's room just across the hallway from John and Yoko's room but half a stairway down. There's not really a closer bedroom and he may have been put there, so that he has his own bathroom. It being so far away, small (somewhere he or Cynthia call the room a closet) and scary are after all the memories from a child's point of view.]

For the most part the visitation arrangements seemed to have continued in 1971. In the summer, when John and Yoko were filming for the imagine documentary, Julian can be seen roaming the property with his friends.

Saturday, July 17th, 1971 With the cameras rolling, John and Yoko roamed the Tittenhurst Park grounds in a golf cart with Jill Johnston. As promised, Blue Pools delivered the new lake house, and the Lennons spotted location. More footage was taken of the house under construction, the Lennons and Johnston rowing on the lake, and Julian and the neighbor children reading excerpts from Grapefruit on camera and running amok in the fields. Lennonology

Lennonology

Julian Lennon: Tittenhurst was this enormous palace-like place with 99 acres, golf-cart buggies, a lake, a little island in the middle of the lake. It was like a house of fun. It was wonderful. I loved the place.

LINK to a longer version of the quote but in German. Not adding much just both John and Julian sharing a mutual love for Dr. Pepper at the time, playing the mellotron and the children daring each other to enter a 'haunted' building on the property.

It's also at Tittenhurst that Julian meets May Pang, who had started working for John and Yoko as an assistant through ABKCO in NY and had come to England as a messenger to bring film rolls.

"There were a lot of great moments at Tittenhurst that I do fondly remember, you know, giggling and laughing with Dad. And, as they say, shooting the shit. But it was difficult to know, you think, 'OK, well, is this going to stay? Is this what it's going to be, now? Can I count on this? Can I be here next weekend or the weekend after? Is that going to happen?' That was one of the, obviously, the hardest pill to swallow, was the constant change. You know, you thought things were going to settle down, but they just never quite did." Julian, 2018

"I lived an ideal life between then [Cyn and Roberto] and John and Yoko, but it all ended when Cynthia's marriage broke up and Dad and Yoko moved to the States." Julian, 1982

The big cut happens when on August 12th 1971 John and Yoko leave for NY and take up residence in the St. Regis Hotel.

At first their plan was to search for Kyoko, so that she too could come for visits at Tittenhurst like Julian. In September John and Yoko appeared on the Dick Cavett show and briefly talked about their wish that both their children could be with them.

youtube

Maybe a Christmas present:

Christie's auction

[In her Lost Weekend doc, May talks about Julian calling and Yoko not allowing her to put the call through to John. She says at that point they hadn't spoken for a couple of years. Then a few weeks later she is in the audience for George Harrison's appearance on Dick Cavett. The show is aired in November '71, so if there is anything to her anecdote she may mean they hadn't seen each other for two months instead of two years.]

26 May '72

"Lennon admits that he is scared to say too much publicly about the case, because it was the initial publicity that had spurred Cox to vanish. He talks about how hard it is for Ono to see pictures of her daughter: I have to hide them. Asked about his own son, Julian, he says: I don't have that 'where the hell is he?' bit. But he reveals that when they were in England, and Julian visited them every weekend, it was difficult for Ono to be with him when her own daughter wasn't there: It was killing her." source

28 May '72

Cynthia quoted in a Sunday paper: "John hasn't seen Julian since he went to America. It is rather a long time. He seems to be occupied with Yoko's daughter now. He does write to Julian, just normal letters, asking how he is getting on at school and things like that. And he sends him presents. He sent him a toy truck at Christmas. I don't keep in touch with John anymore. It's purely through Julian that we keep in contact. Julian loves his father. He follows his career in the newspapers. He goes to a private boys' school where people don't bother who he is. He went to a state school but he had problems there."

14 June '72

Cyn's complaints are repeated in the LA times, where it said that John hadn't seen Julian in eight months. "He seems to be occupied with Yoko's daughter now."

On 22 September '73 John and May leave for LA and only a few days later on 2 October '73 it is reported in the newspaper that Cyn separated from Roberto Bassanini.

Cynthia gave some interviews on her recent separation and the fact that she and Julian moved back to Hoylake, where Julian goes to private school.

"Unhappily Julian misses his father, which is only natural. We only hear from John at Christmas and when the birthdays come around." 7 October '73, Sunday Mirror

"Julian is always asking after him but of course John is in America now. It's been hard for him not seeing John for several years. This sort of thing is naturally upsetting for a child." 7 October '73, Sunday People

According to May's book, while John had broken up with her, she went to the Dakota to be with Yoko. Yoko there told her that she had decided it was time for Julian to come for a visit and May should at least reunite with John for that period to help him with it. May agreed to go back to John for two weeks, but it ends up being more like a year.

Christmas gift '73

To Julian from Daddy Christmas 1973

[Julian has sold an NFT of the black guitar. LINK ]

Shortly after Christmas '73 Julian and Cyn travel to LA to spend his school holidays with his father. They stay at least until the Happy Days taping they visit together on 5 February '74.

During the over a month long visit May writes, that they went to Disneyland three times and had brunch together the first morning. Meanwhile John is still having some wild times. Since Julian is staying with Cynthia, he goes out with May. The Kotex incident and nearly killing Jesse Ed Davis happen at the same time of this visit. May also places Cynthia asking John to have another child together during this trip.

As the visit ends May makes John promise to call Julian regularly.

"It is the right thing to do. I promise you, Fung Yee." He was silent for a while, then John said suddenly, "I really would like to keep in touch with me son." May Pang, Loving John p.168

Julian too, took a lot of positive out of the meetings around this time.

"Mum and I flew out to the States and stayed at the Beverly Hills Hotel. At least Mum did, I spend every minute of every day with my Dad and Yoko. " Julian, 1982

In later recollections Julian correctly puts the first visit in the time-frame that John was with May.

“Dad and I got on a great deal better than,” recalls Julian. “We had a lot of fun, laughed a lot and had a great time in general when he was with May Pang.” Julian in The Times, June 13 2009

May Pang: Loving John. About this visit and how it was set up.

In April 74 Julian sends a Thank you tape to John and Yoko for his birthday gift. Even though John is with May at this time, the present it seems was sent from the married couple.

The present in question according to Julian was a guitar, decorated with a mirror, writing and other stuff:

John writes to Cyn 22 June '74 a typed letter asking about Julian's holiday plans. Interestingly as the return address he gives the Dakota. He wants to send May to bring Julian.

19/20-25 July 1974 Instead of being collected by May, Julian sails with Elton John, Tony King, and Cyn per boat from Southampton to New York.

[In her book Cynthia wrongly remembers this as her first visit with John in the US. She also claims this visit was completely her initiative, which as proven by the letter wasn't the case. The whole anecdote is interesting however because she says that it was never the plan to stay with Julian, John and May but stay in NY with Jenny Boyd. Jenny apparently wasn't told about that plan, because in the end she wasn't there to home Cynthia. (May on the other hand remembers that Cynthia was staying with friends but they left without her and she was lonely, so she ended up coming with them.) In the end (and to John probably rightly or wrongly suspiciously) what was planned as just a trip for Julian with his dad turned into Cynthia coming along most of the time.]

Cynthia'a account about how this meeting was set-up and why she was with them during the trip.

Tony King in The Tastemaker simply writes: “John Lennon wanted to see his son, so I took Julian and John’s ex-wife Cynthia along with me.”

August 6th '74

John, May, Cyn and Julian return to LA for John to record Goodnight Vienna with Ringo.

In the summer while working on Walls and Bridges Julian visits the studio. He records Ya Ya with his dad.

Little interview bit with Julian about being in the studio.

August 19th, 1974

John and May take a trip to Denver. Instead of coming with them Julian stays with Cyn in LA.

When the whole vacation is coming to a close, it is decided that Julian should come for another visit for Christmas. John is clear that he wants him to come alone.

Both May Pang and Cynthia wrote about this visit in their memoirs. [Cynthia is clearly mixing up and merging the first and second trip together in her recollection of it.]

Cynthia's account.

May's account.

December 19th, 1974

Julian, accompanied by Apple staffer Steve Brendell, arrived in NY on this day for Christmas with John and May. Mimi was also invited but declined to come.

While they were in NY Yoko also came by because she wanted to greet Julian.

John, May and Julian flew to Florida on December 22. Lennon said he accepted Levy's Florida invitation "because I was so worn out anyway" from back-to-back studio projects "that I didn't know what to do with my son Julian." John figured that at Disney World, "I could sort of sit in a room or something and Julian could play with Morris's kid." John's quotes are from his trial testimony Big Seven Music Corp, 75Civ, 1116; In Stan Soocher Baby You're a Rich Man, Suing the Beatles for Fun and Money

Until 29 December they spent time in Palm Beach and later returned to Orlando (Disney World).

During this visit, Julian was helpful in influencing John and George making up and the thus the dissolution agreement of the Beatles coming along.

Julian remembers his Christmas visit with John and May fondly: “My memories of that time with Dad and May are very clear - they were the happiest time I can remember with them.” Julian in The Times, June 13 2009

May Pang in Loving John on this visit.

Cynthia writes about this visit in her book.

youtube

Video from May Pang's Lost Weekend documentary. [She says Long Island but I guess it's Palm Beach.]

In early February 1975 John moves back into the Dakota and resumes his marriage with Yoko.

John gives an interview to SPIN magazine in early spring 1975. In it he is asked about his private life, his recent return to Yoko, what his relationship with May is like now, and also about Julian:

How about you as a father? How old is your son [Julian] now? He is 11 now. All I know is that you took him to Disneyworld … right? Yeah, that was hell. Disneyland was better, the first time, in L.A., I took him there. Because I went with a gang, and there were a few of us who were flying a little. But Disneyworld — I was there on the most crowded day of the year, around Christmas or something. Seeing him is good. What we do is irrelevant. I went through a period of, “What are we gonna do?” and all that crap. It doesn’t really matter. As long as he’s around. Cause I don’t see him that often. How is it for an 11-year-old boy to have John Lennon as a father? It must be hell. Does he talk about that to you? No, because he is a Beatle fan. I mean, what do you expect?? I think he likes Paul better than me … I have the funny feeling he wishes Paul was his dad. But unfortunately he got me … It must be hard to be son of anybody. He is a bright kid and he’s into music. I didn’t encourage him, but he’s already got a band in school. But they sing rock’n’roll songs, ’cause their teacher is my age. So he teaches them “Long Tall Sally” and a couple of Beatles numbers. He likes Barry White and he likes Gilbert O’ Sullivan. He likes Queen, though I haven’t heard them yet. He turns me on to music. I call him and he says, “Have you heard Queen?” and I say “No, what is it?” I’ve heard of them. I’ve seen the guy … the one who looks like Hitler playing a piano … Sparks? I’ve seen Sparks on American TV. So I call him and say, “Have you seen Sparks? Hitler on the piano?” and he says, “No. They are alright. But have you seen Queen?” and I say “What’s Queen?” and then he tells me. His age group is hipper to music … at 11 I was aware of music, but not too much.

Link to the SPIN interview

March 11th 1975

John is interviewed by Bob Harris on The Old Grey Whistle Test. He sends greetings to Julian, Mimi and the rest of his family in England.

unknown

30 July 1975

About Julian ... I'm lucky if I see/hear from him myself. She allowed him over here twice last year ... but insisted on coming herself! You can imagine how thrilling that was ... she thought she could walk back in coz I wasn't with yoko!! Now we're back together again she stops him phoning me ... which he did a lot last year ... once a week. He's a bright little boy ... a bit 'sneaky' like his dad ... but he's gonna need that to survive his mother! Our relationship is pretty good --- he knows where I am and what my life is like ... he thinks of me a litlle too much in terms of 'money' etc ... which is what cyn and her mother (so called) have taught him (by example). He will run right to me when he's older ... we all run somewhere ... so I can wait. I got him well hooked on America ... which isan extraordinary place to say the least ... more on that in other letters perhaps. Oh yes the baby is due in November! Conceived feb 6. I tried to send Julia to see julian ... she was given the cold shoulder. When I get to England I'll show you them both. I would love to see yours. Letter to Leila, John Lennon Letters edited by Hunter Davies

After only five months being back with Yoko, communication with Julian has become more sporadic again. To his cousin Leila John complains that it's Cynthia keeping Julian from calling and about her tagging along the previous year. He also claims that he sent Julia to check in on Julian.

Julia Baird in a '83 interview confirms John's claim to Leila, that he hadn't heard from Julian and sent his little sister to check up on him.

"He kept asking in letters and on the phone, 'Please will you go and see Julian? Will you go and see Julian? Will you go see and see Julian? I haven't heard from Julian. His mother's got a cob on. Can you please go and see what's going on?' [...] Anyway eventually Aaron persuaded me that I should go. He was the one that when we got another letter asking, 'Have you been to see Julian yet?', he said, 'Look, he's never asked you to do anything. I think you should go.' [...] We went and John had given us the address, I didn't know where it was. And she seemed very embarrassed to see me. In fact so much so, that I backed off. I just said, 'Is Julian there, please? I'd like to see him.' And she said, 'No, he's gone out.' And I just said, 'Well goodbye, then.' It was very odd, very bizarre."

In her memoir Cyn doesn't mention John sending family to check on them but has an opposing recollection of who was unreachable:

"Initially he did: he phoned Julian as before, every few weeks. But the calls became less frequent, and all too often when Julian tried to phone John he couldn't get through. Yoko, or one of their employees, would tell him that John was sleeping or busy. Discouraged, Julian would wait weeks before trying again. " Cynthia Lennon, John p. 346

1 May '76

Cyn marries John Twist. John and Yoko send a telegram: "Congratulations, good luck, God bless the three of you, John and Yoko.”

According to Cynthia a few weeks later John calls her to invite Julian over for a visit during the school holidays to meet his brother. Yoko and John take the children for a holiday to Long Island. Cynthia also writes that Julian was mugged during his stay in NY, when John told him to go out by himself to buy a harmonica he wanted.

Photos of Julian with John and Yoko in summer 1976.

The only other person I have read mention the '76 visit is John Green in Dakota Days.

As the apartment at the Dakota grew more crowded, John retreated to the quieter and more spacious southern shore of Long Island. He took Sean with him and brought Julian over from Britain. Yoko kept him posted with a barrage of phone calls. "How goes the war, Charles?" he chimed into the receiver. "No casualties so far. How goes the peace?" "Great. It's absolutely beautiful. I've got a bit of sea and a bit of green and my sons, and even once in a while I even have my wife. You should come out here and get some of this. It's delightful." Dakota Days, p.97

[Aside from Cynthia's and Green's brief mentions of the trip, there is very little information on this NY visit. Even Robert Rosen, who supposedly read John's diaries multiple times, has nothing to say about this or the '77 visits. He even claims repeatedly that Julian and John first reunited in 1979 and hadn't seen each other for four years at that point.]

One of Julian's memories that most likely fits this visit:

Julian first played piano when he was thirteen, visiting his father and Yoko in Montauk, Long Island, after Sean, his half brother, was born. Their next-door neighbor had a piano, and Julian and his father went there one day. Lennon played a couple of tunes, then Julian asked, "Can I have a go?" Julian to Rolling Stone, 1985

Another one that Julian doesn't connect to a date but he remembers the new situation after his little brother was born:

[Yoko] was very loving towards me, even after their son Sean was born. Right at the beginning I felt a few pangs. They were there with their own son. Where did I fit in? But every time I went over Dad would lay on amazing treats, and Yoko was always loving towards me." Julian, 1982

In the same interview Julian also tells the story of his dad offering him a joint when he was about 12, so that might have also been the '76 visit, or the '74/'75 Christmas visit.

Cynthia claims she had trouble getting the money she was supposed to use for Julian's school. She asked John to split the trust fund, so that she can withdraw money from it easier. John agreed.

Cynthia publishes the letter in her book John and calls it "cautious, polite and to the point":

"I explained that, as he and Yoko were out of the country, it was impossibly difficult for me to get at Julian's money: 'Nothing can proceed without your signature - it means I'm forever overdrawn at the bank and have to wait on the convenience of your lawyers ... I want the best for Julian, and his standard of life shouldn't suffer because of lack of good management on your part, which has been happening since the fund was set up ... The money, instead of having doubled through good investment, is dwindling through lack of interest on your part ... It's just so important that this whole arrangement is sorted out without animosity or aggravation ... The way things are going Julian's financial prospects when he is 25 will be virtually nil and he is going to want to know why... It is one thing fighting for your rights but totally ridiculous fighting against your own son's interests, which is what seems to be happening.' "

[She says she ends the letter with thanking them for arranging the Concorde flight for Julian last summer. However according to wiki Concorde didn't fly to NYC until November 1977. (That years Christmas John and Yoko do indeed book a Concorde flight for Julian.) So I suspect that her supposed letter is specifically written for her book and not an actual document as the presentation suggests.]

In mid-October Cynthia gives an interview to Woman magazine that also got picked up in multiple newspapers. In it she talks about their relationship splitting after their first LSD trip, John getting upset with Julian when he couldn't eat with a knife, alleges that she was being followed by a private detective in Italy,...

A report on the article in the Burton Daily Mail from 19 October '76 also quotes Cynthia as saying:

"Since then their relationship has been beautiful," she says. "They talk a lot on the phone, there've been other visits and he's going again this year. I believe now that John is completely off all drugs, has been off them for years, otherwise I'd never let Julian go."

[He's going again this year indicates that there was another visit planned in 1976. If that happened or fell through, I haven't found anything about that.]

October 25th, 76

John sends Julian a postcard from Singapore. “What happened to ya?”

Even though the previous few months there was a visit and positive communication about the finances, Cynthia's decision to publicly complain in the papers angered John. He responded on November 26th 1976 with an open letter in the Daily Mail.

"Lennon tells first wife: Stop blaming Yoko," it read: "As you and I well know, our marriage was over long before the advent of LSD or Yoko Ono. Your memory is impaired to say the least. Your version of our first LSD trips is rather vague. You seem to have forgotten subsequent trips altogether. You also seem to have forgotten that only two years ago, while I was separated from Yoko Ono, you suddenly brought Julian to see me in Los Angeles after three years of silence. During that visit you didn't allow me to be alone with him for one moment. You even asked me to remarry you and give you another child 'for Julian's sake.' I politely told you no and that anyway I was still in love with Yoko. Finally, I don't blame you for wanting to get away from your Beatle past, but if you are serious about it you should try to avoid talking to and posing for magazines and newspapers. We did have some good years so dwell on them for a change."

Cynthia answers to the press after this, saying she doesn't want them to throw mud at each other and repeated "All I want to do is forget the Beatles and enjoy my present life". Still, only a few months later in 1977 she starts to write A Twist of Lennon (allegedly gleefully on a typewriter Yoko had gifted Julian). In her later memoir John she writes she was persuaded to do it by her husband John Twist who believed it would make their fortune.

Julian is sent to boarding school for that time. [In her book John Cynthia explicitly remembers that she moved to Ireland to write. However newspaper reports from the time suggest that the move happened later. So, probably Julian wasn't boarding at this time but those months in '78.]

At the same time communication between John and Julian was happening regularly and according to his diaries he got excited by the idea of buying Julian a keyboard.

July 14th, 1977

December 25th 1977

Julian comes by Concorde to stay at the Dakota during his school holidays.

[At the time of Julian's visit John and Yoko were still helped by the FBI to deal with the kidnapping threat and extortion attempt that had been going on for weeks and scared them badly. Also, Tony Cox had made contact by phone and agreed that Kyoko could visit for these holidays but then disappeared again and John would never hear again from Kyoko. I don't know if Julian was told any of this but I assume it probably was one of the more tense christmases.]

Going by Giuliano because neither Cynthia nor Robert Rosen mention this trip by Julian at all, John was very excited about Julian coming getting up early and baking bread for him. Julian gets close to Nishi and thereby brings forth John's competitive streak. John tries out the parental philosophy of wanting to spend time with Julian instead of giving him material goods, Julian goes 'oh, really' and John caves in. When he leaves John draws a portrait of Julian. Source

[Since Robert Rosen, who also read the diaries, doesn't even know about the '76 or '77 visits (and Giuliano too thinks they saw each other last at Disney World), they may not be the source for the above. I thought it might have been from Dakota Days but it's not. John Green mentions the '77 Christmas visit but says the family were going to Florida to meet Julian there because of the security threats. I think Green is confusing this and a later visit, so I will insert his account of what John told him on returning there.]

Julian stays most of January. Goes to see the musical The Magic Show with Yoko and the band Riff-Raff with John.

In February of 1978 Cynthia and her husband sell their house and move away from Ruthin to Eire to avoid a 'wealth tax'. They leave Julian to be a boarder at his school. Cynthia and John Twist return in December, probably because they missed Julian.

April 1978

[It's not actually dated aside from being from 1978, I just assume the guitar was Julian's birthday gift.]

GIBSON Les Paul 25/50 guitar

"Dad gave me this special order rare model - it was always exciting to receive something like this from my dad. When I visited Dad we would sit down together and he would teach me a few chords and help me improve my technique." Julian in Beatles Memorabilia. The Julian Lennon Collection.

May 19th 1978

A conversation with Cyn and excerpts from her memoir A Twist of Lennon are published in News of the World.

John, Yoko and Sean are in Japan for their summer vacation. Through his London lawyers John tries to stop the publication of Cynthia's book as a serial in the News Of The World.

Tuesday, June 13th, 1978 Having been telephoned in Japan with the details of Cynthia's memoir excerpt in News Of The World, John instructed his solicitors to issue a High Court injunction in an effort to prevent the publication of a planned second installment. Frere Cholmeley & Co., Lennon's attorney in London, described the piece as 'a salacious and gribby little article,' although it was qualified with the statement: 'He does not deny that he held parties or took drugs, but he deplores the publication of intimate details of his married life.' Friday, June 16th, 1978 In the case of Lennon v. News Group Newspapers Ltd and Twist, Lord Denning rejected John's application for an injunction in London's High Court today, permitting the publication of more excerpts from A Twist Of Lennon. For his par, Denning was not impresses with John's argument that the article's publication was a breach of confidence of the marriage: 'I cannot see that either of these two parties have had much regard for the sanctity of marriage ... It seems to me as plain as can be that the relationship of these parties has ceases to be their own private affair. They themselves have put it into the public domain.' Sunday, June 18th, 1978 Having successfully defended the right to publish excerpts from A Twist Of Lennon, today's edition of News Of The World featured part two of their series: 'How Yoko stole my husband.' " Lennonology

When the book actually was released feelings turned out to be much softer than expected. Cyn ends her first memoir with the words :

I still feel very proud of the Beatles and their accomplishments. My life during that period was an education, an education I wouldn't have missed. It has left me feeling enriched, not embittered, enlightened not blinded. All I can think to conclude my story is to say, 'Thanks for the memories, and in the words of the I CHING, no blame.'"

After finishing reading his ex-wife's book, according to Robert Rosen, John was relieved and enjoyed the nostalgia. He said a prayer for Cyn: "Dear God, please show her The Way. Thank You. Thank You."

Postcard to Julian:

[I can't make out the date on the card. Julian's Beatles memorabilia book says it's from '71 but that's obviously wrong with Sean being included and Julian's Ruthin address on it. John makes the reference to being a farmer. They bought their farm in February 1978, so I put it that year. May be wrong though.]

March 21st 1979

Julian is supposed to join John, Sean and Yoko's visiting nieces in Palm Beach.

[John taking a photo of Julian in '79]

There are multiple, very different accounts for this visit, that includes Julian's 16th birthday celebration.

John bought Julian a motorcycle for his birthday.

At one point they went to Disney World, (which none of the accounts of the trip even mention), where this photo of Julian and Yoko's nieces was taken:

Accounts from:

Robert Rosen [Rosen writes that Dan Richter's children came for a visit. Correction: I said before that that because Dan wrote in his book that he never saw John again after 1974, it seemes unlikely to me that his kids would be sent out to John and Yoko five years later. However Dan Richter does confirm that in his interview on the Podcast Glass Onion: On John Lennon episode 16:

"My kids would go down, they had a place down in Palm Beach or whatever it was down in Florida. And they were there at Christmas and bring Julian and they would fly my kids down to play with Julian. And everybody, the sense we got was they were happy!"

This visit doesn't happen over Christmas but it sounds like he is talking about more than one occasion that happened and probably Christmas is one example. Could also mean that Rosen is mixing up the occasion for that anecdote.]

Cynthia Lennon

Fred Seaman

Geoffrey Giuliano

John Green [Green puts this actually to the '77 holiday visit, where he wrongly writes they went to Florida. I think (if his stories are to be believed at all) he confuses John's anger and disappointment upon return with this visit of Julian's. It also fits with being in Florida.]

[I recommend to read all of them. Lots of drama. I may one day make a comparison post between all the account because they are fascinatingly different.]

April 9th 1979

John writes to Mimi saying Julian would be welcome to live with them if he so chose but there had been no arrangements made.

Q: Did you ever plan to go and live with him [John] in New York? Julian: "When I was in my early teens we'd spoken on the phone about the possibility of me going to college over there. I think it was wishful thinking on both our parts because I felt uncomfortable about the situation and I believe he did, too." Hello! Magazine, 1995

April 25th 1979, Postcard to Julian from NY:

Julian declines to join his dad, Yoko and Sean for their family's yearly vacation in Japan.

[July 1979 In the context of getting one of his guitars Julian said that John bought him a Sony Walkman as a gift when they were brand-new. He puts around '73-'74. However according to wikipedia the Sony Walkman was first sold in July '79, so that present would have been sent to Julian around this time, maybe directly from Japan.]

December 1979

On 3rd-4th December there is a two part feature in the Daily Mail called "The Sons of the Beatles" on Julian and Zak.

"When I'm in New York, we go out quite a lot together round some of the art galleries, or to his house at Long Island. When we stay in we have musical jam sessions together singing out latest songs to each other. I still listen to Beatles music. Although I quite like some of my father's solo albums, I much prefer what he did with the Beatles." (quoted from Lennonology p. 508)

Also that month:

"More disturbing to John were the ongoing trials with Julian. The sullen teen continued to vex his father with his on-again, off-again plans to visit over Christmas. At first Julian said maybe, as long as they didn't go to Florida. Then it was a flat no, using school exams and a new girlfriend as an excuse. At the last minute he called saying he would come to New York only if he could bring a friend, but Yoko turned him down. As usual John didn't challenge her. Julian retaliated by sending his father a tabloid article about rock stars' sons, which focused on both him and Ringo's son Zak Starkey, and went into detail about the trials of being the offspring of a Beatle." Lennon in America by Giuliano p. 218

On the other hand John Green does write that Julian spent Christmas '79 with John, Yoko and Sean. He even says that Julian stayed until February. ("John stayed in the Palm Beach house until February, luxuriating in the sun and sea, forging new ties with Julian and delighting in rediscoveries of himself." p.229) [This can't be true however because John was definitely in NY for Christmas and New Years. John and Yoko did buy a house in Palm Beach late January however and were spotted there a few times in February. I can't find a mention of Julian being spotted with them, so it may or may not have happened. I do think between the two of them Giuliano's account is probably more accurate. The Daily Mail article he mentions of Zak and Julian had come out on 3 or 4 December, so that is also believable that it had come up in pre-christmas discussions. But of course it's possible that a visit happened anyway.]

1980

Julian called in February 1980 to set up another meeting with his dad. This time John denied him, surprisingly because he was worried about Julian's schooling. Through Cynthia he had learned that Julian was failing his O-levels, had started smoking, staying out at night drinking, had gotten in trouble with the police for setting up fires and racing through town on a dirt bike. "John just prayed that Julian didn't hurt himself." There is also continued conflict over money. John felt that Julian every time they spoke asked him for more money. "And though John continued to feel guilty about having abandoned Julian and Cynthia, he'd be damned if he was going to be like every other rich asshole father who'd abandoned his family and then used money as a poor substitute for love and companionship." source

In March 'A Twist of Lennon' gets its paperback release and new reviews are printed in the press.

Summer 1980

When John sat for a portrait painting with Sean for the artist Nancy Gosnell, he wondered if she could also do one of him and Julian from a photograph. He wanted to give him a father and son portrait for his birthday, according to Fred Seaman.

September 1980

PLAYBOY: "Your son, Julian, from your first marriage must be in his teens. Have you seen him over the years?" LENNON: "Well, Cyn got possession, or whatever you call it. I got rights to see him on his holidays and all that business, and at least there's an open line still going. It's not the best relationship between father and son, but it is there. He's 17 now. Julian and I will have a relationship in the future. Over the years, he's been able to see through the Beatle image and to see through the image that his mother will have given him, subconsciously or consciously. He's interested in girls and autobikes now. I'm just sort of a figure in the sky, but he's obliged to communicate with me, even when he probably doesn't want to." PLAYBOY: "You're being very honest about your feelings toward him to the point of saying that Sean is your first child. Are you concerned about hurting him?" LENNON: "I'm not going to lie to Julian. Ninety percent of the people on this planet, especially in the West, were born out of a bottle of whiskey on a Saturday night, and there was no intent to have children. So 90 percent of us... that includes everybody... were accidents. I don't know anybody who was a planned child. All of us were Saturday-night specials. Julian is in the majority, along with me and everybody else. Sean is a planned child, and therein lies the difference. I don't love Julian any less as a child. He's still my son, whether he came from a bottle of whiskey or because they didn't have pills in those days. He's here, he belongs to me and he always will."

Playboy: I was under the impression that you still weren't seeing Julian much. Lennon: Well, no, he's comin' here over shortly now. I see him whenever he get's off school. Playboy: Has it been hard for him to be John Lennon's kid? Lennon: Yeah, he has his own... Everybody has a cross to bear, and Julian has that cross, and he'll deal with it. He's a clever boy, and as he gets older we can communicate and he'll understand.

[I wasn't sure what upcoming visit John is referring to since I couldn't find one mentioned anywhere. However there is an article in the Daily Mirror from 8 October 1980 including interview passages with Cynthia that mentions Julian currently being in New York. So without any photographic evidence, he isn't in any of the birthday photos, or anecdotes about it, there still might be the possibility that there was a (pre-)birthday visit from Julian to John and Sean in 1980. Julian himself hasn't been completely consistent on when he last saw his Dad. He has said that his '79 birthday visit was their last meeting (which I think is most likely correct), but he also claimed that he was flying out regularly.]

"According to Cynthia, Julian, now 18, plays guitar better than his father. He has left school and is off to New York to stay with his famous dad." Link to the article

In an interview with Jonathan Cott on 5 December John reflects more on the troubles of being a Beatle's son and on how mistakes in his decision for Julian's schooling changed his outlook on his plans for Sean. [Julian had been going to private school since at least 1973.]

"[...] because he can't possibly be an average child, being the son of famous parents. I tried that game with my son Julian, sending him to a comprehensive working-class school, mixing with the people, but the people spat and shit on him, because he was famous, as people are wont to do. So his mother had to finally turn around and tell me to piss off: 'I'm sending him to a private school, the kid is suffering here.' "

Cynthia writes that by the end of 1980 Julian felt a breakthrough in his and his father's relationship. John played Julian songs from his new album over the phone, asking his opinions. source

Julian himself reflects on his and his dad's relationship by the time of his death like this:

"I know that dad's presence will be around for a long time. He was always joking, always sounded happy, which made me think more of him as a friend than a dad. My earliest memory of my father was when I was about three and he sang happy birthday to me. We were living at Weybridge, Surrey, and dad threw a birthday party for me and brought in a long cake shaped like a train and festooned with candles." Sunday Mirror, 5 April 1981

As early as 1982 negative feelings would influence Julian's memory, saying he didn't get to see his father for five years, that he only heard on Birthdays and Christmas from him or that after the first US visit it was again years before he got to go another time, when it was merely months.

"The Beatles sang 'All You Need Is Love' - and that is all I wanted from Dad. It is difficult to explain why I should feel so strongly, when we shared so little. Never once in all the years he lived in America did he even think about coming to see me. Apart from rare visits, I lived from birthdays to Christmas just to hear from him." Julian, 1982

[Those false memories/presentations may have been the result of his beginning break from Yoko around that time and the conflicts about money, or maybe his memories just adapted to the way it was talked about in his family.]

"It was more of one man to another than the usual father and son relationship, because he had been away from me a lot, and he said he realized that. I was just getting through to him and growing up myself and growing out of the silly giggling I did as a young teenager that really annoyed him, when Dad was killed." Julian quoted in Ray Coleman's John bio, pp.620

"Dad was such an influence in my life, it must have been hard on Mum. She'd do her best with presents at birthdays and Christmas, but I always waited for that special present that was bigger than anything else - from him. Yet he never sent anything spontaneously. He'd phone up and ask what I wanted, and it would arrive. I don't think he was trying to buy me in any way. It was just a chance for him to do something for me. He knew I wanted to be a musician and kept telling me to take a long time to get it right. He removed a lot of the stress I suppose other kids might feel. I didn't do very well at school. I don't think I'm dense, but I suppose I'm a bit lazy. There's only one thing I want - to know for sure that Dad loved me as much as I loved him. Or maybe to have him back." Julian, 1982

Edits: 29 April - December 1974 John trial quote added; September 1980 Playboy interview quote added 6 May - added Julian quote about relationship to his father by the time of his death 7 May - added Old Grey Whistle Test clip March 11th 1975 18 May - added info about 3-4 December '79 Daily Mail feature on Julian and Zak, added all the info I could find on any visits in John Green's Dakota Days and multiple notes on to those mentions. 20 May - added Cyn's quote for 28 May 1972. 23 June - added the Tittenhurst floorplan and the link to an extended quote from Julian about being there in German 8 July - added quote from 5 Dec 1980 to Jonathan Cott 20 July - added Julia Baird audio on trying to see Julian for John 1975 22 July - added info on a possible 1980 visit, 1973 interviews, 1976 info, 1980's quote 30 July - Spin interview '75 added, Cynthia quote from Burton Daily Mail '76 added 1 August - added bits from Julian's 1982 article throughout, transcribed some of the jpg quotes, so that I may add more photos, some photos added 4 August - correction in my comments about the likelihood of Dan Richter's children being with them in 1979 19 August - Box of Smile 8 October - Added some postcards, the guitars, reset some photographs because of the picture limit 12 November - Added the video clip from May Pang's doc

#i was suddenly getting nervous that this will just disappear from my drafts. that would annoy me so much. so it get's posted NOW.#i will add stuff to it as i find it but that's how i always do timelines. fill them up over time. and this is already massive.#i just wanted to date one damn thing and this is what happened...#thoughts in progress #john lennon #julian lennon #Youtube

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ughmyreality · 1 month

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I just have to complain. Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton get on my last nerves and I'm tired of acting like they don't.

At this point, Penelope is the center stage of everything. Not just season 3 but the others as well. Not only is she (supposably) friends with Eloise, and she's Lady Whistledown but also a love interest. When does it end? Please don't say it's because they wanted to "flesh out her character" or make her "dimensional" because it wouldn't be an issue if she was in fact meant to be the main focal point. She's not, however, and despite what it sometimes appears, the show is "Bridgerton."

She reminds me of Ani from 13 reasons why. Mostly due to the fact that despite all these relevant main characters, all the time is being focused on her. Well, that and the victim card.

But even if I were to give her some grace, we're supposed to ignore the fact the "man of her dreams" nearly married her cousin?!?! That's bizarre to me. Throughout this whole time, Colin has never shown any interest in her besides platonic dancing. He rarely interacts with her and, in fact, is known to travel all the time. Sure, he writes her letters, but that's all they are, simple letters. Ones of which she later acts like she doesn't even appreciate.

(Also, that clip of season 3 of Colin telling her he missed her... ok, and? How do we go from "and the object of all my desires" to this? Ugh, then Penelope saying his eyes are a remarkable shade of blue but shine even brighter when he's kind. Girl! Clearly, he isn't kind enough because all she ever does is complain about the fact that he doesn't like her! Besides, what sort of a line is that. She's an author. An AUTHOR, and she's going to show it by saying a basic line.)

When exactly are these feelings manifesting? Yet again, I'd like to reiterate that this isn't necessarily a problem because people can just meet and quickly fall in love. My problem with Colin and Penelope lies in the fact that

A. Penelope likes Colin a little too much, more than he has ever reciprocated.

B. Colin seems like an opportunist. He doesn't particularly like her he just rather have her for himself, but the moment he finds someone else, he's off to the next. He bounces from seeing her as his sisters friend to love interest consistently.

C. Penelope is so quick to abandon anything that doesn't suit her narrative: Marina and Eloise. She can run a whole gossip column trash talking Colin and his family, but somehow, she expects to be miraculously forgiven and exempt from any backlash. The only reason she was ever able to get into such close proximity to Colin is because of Eloise, but she has no problem acting like Eloise is the one in the wrong.

D. Most importantly, there is nothing wrong with platonic relationships. The two of them still get on my nerves, but I can admit, it is much less so when they don't interact or talk about each other. They work better as distant friends. If anything, I think Penelope has a better chance with someone like Benedict.

E. Personal Ick (I realize this might be very irrational) I don't like major height difference relationships. It gives me bad vibe because I feel like one party in the relationship is always going to be somewhat infantilized.

It's one thing to say she has a physical attraction to him and another to say she has a full-out crush. Even if she does truly like him, does she "truly" like him? She's had this crush for so long that I don't think she likes the real Colin but the idealized version she's created.

Subtle Eloise Appreciation: And to top it off, why are people acting as though Eloise is the ONLY one looking for Lady Whistledown. Out of all the people, there is such a great likelihood that others are investigating as well. Even the queen wants to know who she is, but people fail to mention that!

On a side note, I'm over the narrative that I should feel sorry for Penelope because of her family's financial hardships. Is that unfortunate? Yes, most definitely, but what does that have to do with the way she treats people?

But, I suppose at the end of the day, it's not that deep. I just wanted to express myself with, hopefully, like-minded individuals. If you love Penelope and Colin, great. I, on the other hand, do not.

#anti penelope featherington #anti polin #anti Colin Bridgerton #long post #complaining #i'm okay

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mlove44lh · 1 year

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Don´t hurt yourself

Chaprter 4 - Apathy

Masterlist

Previously chapter

Warnings: mention of cheating, angst, swearing, mention of miscarriage, mention of blood and hospital, alcohol use. This chapther it may be triggering for some people

Words: 4.337

“So what are you gonna say at my funeral, now that you've killed me? Here lies the body of the love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children, both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted. Most bomb p*ssy who, because of me, sleep evaded. Her god listening. Her heaven will be a love without betrayal.

Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks.”

August

"The physical pain is a gentle breeze compared to the emotional pain that engulfs me now. The contractions still echo through my body like violent waves, and tears continue to stream down my face. But none of this compares to the tightness I feel in my chest. The image of what happened before still haunts my mind like a nightmare that won't go away.

It lasted so little, I didn't even have a chance to know him, to hear his voice, admire his eyes, feel his warmth against mine. I will never know which one of us he would have resembled more. My dearest dream has turned into a nightmare.

They promised me that this would be the last exam, just to make sure I don't have any residue left inside me.

"Residue". That's what he became.

I go through all the procedures while being completely on autopilot, I no longer care where they take me, the smell of ether is already ingrained in me and everything seems like a loop of the same thing. Doctors come and go from my field of vision, their voices distant as if they were whispers.

A lot of blood lost, they said.

I think of Lewis, I think I saw him this morning, but I'm not sure, dreams are becoming more and more similar to reality. I don't know if I can trust my mind.

"Mrs. Hamilton? Do you hear me?"

The doctor stares at me, even though he is close, the sound of his voice feels like it's coming from miles away. I try to focus on the moment but it's almost impossible.

"We can search for treatments for your condition, but for now, the best course of action would be for you to refrain from attempting a new pregnancy. So that we can investigate and make the best decision before proceeding with anything else." He pauses before continuing, perhaps waiting for a question. I must have a million of them, but I can't even manage to utter my own name now. “I will call your husband, if everything goes well, you'll be discharged by morning. I'll be around if you need me.”

I watch him leave the room, the hole in my chest makes me feel absolutely nothing, which ends up being more comforting than the suffering I felt when I came across all that blood. I go back to staring at the white ceiling and hope this all passes soon.”

There is nothing more exhausting than loving for two.

I look at the diamond that even after six years, still shines brightly on my ring finger. It would be so much easier if there was no love, but it seems like love was the only thing that remained, even if only on one side.

Everything else has gone away; happiness, respect, attention. The only thing that remains will be the hardest to let go, love.

How does she look through the eyes of my husband? How does he see her? Certainly very different from me, certainly much better than me.

I don't know if I want to forgive him for what he did, but I also don't want to regret not having tried to fight for us both. Forgiving him would mean accepting what happened and trying to move forward together. On the other hand, moving forward without him would mean trying to heal on my own and leaving him behind.

But I don't want to be alone, and I don't want to lose him, even though the feeling that dominates me now is that I have been alone for much longer than I thought.

I stare at the cold coffee on my table, I thought I'd be rested and that I'd be able to think more clearly after a night of sleep, but I couldn't sleep for even a minute, and today things seem even more confusing and painful than yesterday.

"I don't think you should ask for a divorce"

"What?!"

"Put an end to this and move on."

I stare at the woman sitting in front of me as if she had just said the most absurd thing in the world. And it really sounded that way.

“Can't you see the state I am in right now?”

“Yes, your sadness today is clear to me. Just like your happiness almost blinded me during these seven years.”

The cafeteria is more crowded than usual, people are moving back and forth, most seem late for appointments. Emma and I are the contrast to these people, we've been sitting for hours, and many of those minutes have been spent in complete silence. For some reason she was the person I called as soon as I woke up from the worst night of my life.

Emma became practically my confidante over the years. I met her shortly after moving to Monaco, on the first day of my new job. She has always been kind, always seemed to understand me, and it didn't take long for her to become more than just a work colleague. Even after leaving the company after a few years, I didn't stop keeping in touch with her.

I know she has been married for over 30 years, and I also know that she is a very intelligent woman. So it made sense to me to arrange this meeting.

"Have you been through this?”

She says with such certainty that I should forgive him that it's almost like a confession.

“I've been married for thirty-two years. What do you think?"

"And was it like that? Did you just forgive him?”

“No. It was a lot of struggle, we almost gave up.”

“What happened?”

“I was pregnant when he told me he was in love with someone else and wanted to leave me. Can you imagine that?"

Emma is one of the sweetest people I know. Imagining her going through that makes me even more disturbed.

“How did I not know about this?”

“No one knows about it. I promised myself I wouldn't tell a soul.”

“Why are you telling me now?"

"Because you need to.” The woman continues to stare at me as she takes a small sip of her cappuccino. “No one can make the decision for you. But know that if you take him back, you will have to forget what happened and never bring it up again. On the other hand, you can achieve so much more together.”

I rest my head in my hands. I thought this conversation would bring clarity, but I'm even more confused now.

"I don't know, Emma. It's so complicated.”

"It's not easy, Y/n. It's a marriage, everything requires sacrifices. And sometimes those sacrifices are our principles. But if you love each other and want to give it another try, the rest can be fixed."

The thoughts and possibilities rush through me so quickly that I can't focus on just one. I promised myself I wouldn't go through this, but experiencing it firsthand, it's much more complex than I imagined. It's not just a simple 'yes' or 'no'. What's at stake is much bigger.

"Why don't you go out with some friends? It'll help clear your mind. Sometimes a hangover makes us think better about life."

I chuckle at your unusual request.

"I don't think that's a good idea. I'm exhausted."

"Staying in this spiral of sadness and doubt that he put you in won't help you, that I know."

I look at the woman in front of me for a few seconds, but I don't respond to her. The idea doesn't sound as absurd as it did seconds ago, but I don't think my exhaustion and melancholy would allow me to do something like that.

The woman gives me a kind smile, but I can sense pity in her gaze, which only makes me feel more ashamed and guilty.

"I need to go now," she says.

Emma gets up and grabs her coat, and I do the same.

"Thank you for listening to me.”

"You're welcome. You know I'm here for you anytime.”

As we leave the coffee shop, I feel the cold wind of the day wrapping around me. I put on my coat before turning to the woman one last time. Emma pulls me into a hug that I wasn't expecting, but I nestle into her arms, grateful for the chance to see her and for her willingness to help me.

"You'll know what to do when the time is right. And know that you'll never be alone, no matter what decision you make," her voice comes out softly in the midst of our embrace.

"Thank you so much," I say.

We part, and Emma continues to look at me for a moment before she starts to move. I watch her leave the street as she walks away calmly.

I get into the G-Wagon parked in front of the café, and I spend a few minutes staring at the steering wheel in my hands. I don't feel like going home. Even though he's not there, the idea of being surrounded by his things and his scent makes me anxious.

I look around the car and can visualize him in the passenger seat, with his mischievous smile and sparkling eyes. I remember how we used to travel together, planning adventures and sharing laughter along the way. Now, everything feels different.

I left everything behind to come here, to rebuild my life by his side. I faced different people, different cultures, a different language, but I had him by my side, so I didn't mind the barriers I encountered. Because I knew everything would be okay as long as I was with him. I've never regretted leaving what I left behind, even though I left a lot.

I contemplate before reaching for my bag and taking out my phone.I skip through all the unread messages from Lewis and go to her name in my contacts list. I feel anxious as I wait for the call to be answered.

The amber liquid goes down my throat, burning, but it burns less than the last shot seconds ago.

I slam the glass back on the round table and pop the small slice of lemon into my mouth, feeling the sour taste cut through the burning sensation of the drink.

I've lost count of how many of these I've had already. But I don't care about drinking too much now, because for the first time in weeks, I don't feel as suffocated.

I could become an alcoholic if it meant finding some peace from my own thoughts.

I reach for my phone inside my bag and stare at the lock screen. The small icon of his photo stares back at me.

“35 New messages”

Since yesterday they haven't stopped coming. I haven't responded to our conversation, but I can still read the messages. A mix of “please” and “let's talk” and a bunch of other things that make me want to drink even more.

Alessia sits back in front of me after returning from the bar with a drink in her hand. She notices my serious expression and looks at me with attentive eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what happened now?" She asks, leaning towards me.

The busy bar isn't too far from Alessia's place, and the bustle around us are louder than I'd prefer. The piano music plays softly, and despite the chatter of people, I can still hear Alessia's words clearly. Ever since we met at this bar, Alessia has been trying to get out of me what she knows is wrong.

She knows me very well. Too well, I would say. It would be impossible to keep something as significant as this a secret from her, but I don't want to have to talk about it at the only time I can deceive myself and pretend it's not happening.

"It's complicated. I don't think here is the right time or place. I just want to be able to drink with my best friend tonight."

Alessia tilts her head, studying me intently. She knows I'm avoiding it, but she's also familiar with my stubbornness.

"Okay. But you're going to have to talk to me sooner or later."

I nod at her as I put my phone back in my bag.

"Tell me. How are the preparations for the move going?" I ask her.

I try to shift the topic of conversation, and fortunately, I succeed. Alessia's eyes light up when I mention my curiosity.

"An organized mess." She responds with a smile. "Everything is in chaos in the gallery, with boxes everywhere. I'm moving just a few blocks away but it feels like I'm moving to another country with so much to do. But I'm really glad I got that spot."

I can't help but smile as I listen to her. I know how much she's been looking forward to this moment, and her joy is contagious.

"The location is perfect, it will help a lot with business.”

"Well, I hope so. This effort has to be worth something. At least it's almost over."

"Do you already have the opening date?"

She nods as she takes a sip of her drink.

"I organized the inauguration cocktail even before starting the move." I chuckle with her. "It's going to be on Saturday. So make sure to arrange to go."

"Of course, I will."

The conversation with Alessia flows for a few more minutes as we share laughs and more drinks.

I'm already feeling buzzed, but the more we talk and drink, the calmer I feel. We're immersed in our conversation when the waiter suddenly approaches, placing an elegant glass on the table in front of me. The transparent liquid inside the glass shines under the soft bar light.

"A dry martini for the lady," the waiter says with a smile, pushing the glass towards me.

"I didn't order that." I say to the waiter, looking confused.

The waiter points to a man sitting at one of the high stools at the bar, who looks our way and raises his whisky glass in a suggestive gesture. He appears to be in his early thirties, with dark hair and a mischievous smile on his face.

"It was the gentleman at the bar who ordered it for you," the waiter explains before walking away.

I look back at the man in the bar, surprised, as he gazes at me with a confident look. He raises his whisky glass in a suggestive toast.

Alessia glances at the man and then turns her inquisitive gaze back to me, clearly confused about what's happening. I shrug and take a sip of the drink, trying to appear indifferent. The bitter taste of the drink mixed with the sensation of the ice in my mouth makes me realize that it's a well-made martini.

“Jesus, either he didn't notice this giant diamond on your finger, or he's confident enough to be an asshole.”

“Maybe he's just curious.”

She looks at me and just by her expression, I can decipher her thoughts. On a normal day, I would decline the drink, send it back, not touch it, or do something like that. But today, I just accepted it willingly, with a smile on my face, from the stranger who bought me an unrequested drink. So I understand the reason for her confusion in her expression.

Alessia is a smart woman who knows me well. I can almost hear the moment when it clicks for her. But she doesn't say anything, just shakes her head negatively.

“What's wrong? Why are you looking at me as if accepting the drink was a crime?”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You don't need to say anything with that look.”

She laughs.

“I just wasn't expecting that reaction, but whatever.”

The sound of Alessia's cellphone interrupts us, she reaches for her phone in her bag, rolling her eyes as she looks at the screen.

"Oh my God, they really can't do anything without me in that place," she says, getting up from her chair and preparing to move away. "Give me a minute, I need to take this call before the gallery catches fire or something."

"Sure," I say, chuckling as I watch Alessia walk away from the table until she's out of sight.

I turn my gaze back to the man who is still watching me, a small smile on his lips. His desire is evident, but my interest in him is as nonexistent as my desire for a dry martini tonight.

But I accept the drink, and now I gaze at the man with curiosity. Not because I want anything with him, but because I wonder what it would take for me to do to Lewis what he did to me. Definitely much more than an attractive man buying me a drink. I still know this, even though I'm angry and drunk to the point of not thinking about how it would further affect my situation.

I hate this stranger for making me go back to thinking about Lewis when I was managing to deceive myself so well for a few minutes.

I watch the man get up from his seat and slowly walk towards me. I don't know why he thought he was entitled to all these actions, and I have no interest in talking to him now, but I still don't move to stop him. I stay in my seat with my eyes fixed on him, waiting to see what will happen.

His posture is impeccable, and he seems to be over 6 feet tall. His suit is flawless, and the watch on his wrist looks expensive. He is an attractive man for more than just these things. But even so, I couldn't be less interested.

"I've been trying to choose a drink for you for a while." He says as he gets close enough.

"And what made you think a dry martini would be a good idea?"

"It's an elegant drink, and you seem like a very elegant woman, so it made sense." He smiles.

"Thank you." I smile back at him.

"I'm Henry," he says, extending his hand, expecting a handshake.

"Y/n." I say, extending my left hand to him. He looks at it while shaking it. The ring on my finger is not something that would go unnoticed, especially to someone interested in flirting with me. But that realization doesn't stop him from being here, with the same smile and the same posture.

"So, did I make the right choice?" he asks.

My drunkenness and thoughts make me take a few seconds to realize he's talking about the drink he sent me.

"Well, to be honest, that wouldn't have been my first choice," I laugh nervously. "I prefer something sweeter. But thank you, it was very kind of you."

The unwavering smile remains on his face. Meanwhile, I struggle to maintain minimal eye contact. Regret and anxiety flood me for having accepted the drink and not having avoided the conversation.

"Let me buy you another drink then, one that you like this time," he laughs. "I'm staying at the hotel across the street and maybe we could continue the night there..."

"I'm married," I say, hoping to make the man realize my lack of interest and leave. But that's not what happens.

"I noticed," he says, seemingly unfazed. "But you accepted the drink, so I didn't think it would be an issue."

He says it as if it were a simple math equation, as if it were obvious that I would want to sleep with him in exchange for a fucking dry martini, even though I'm married.

At least I have the answer for Alessia: he saw my ring and has enough confidence to be an asshole.

I don't respond to him immediately. I just stare at the man in front of me, trying to process the audacity of someone making such a crude assumption.

“Is everything okay?” I feel Alessia's hands on my back. She says to me as she glares at him, there is clear anger in her features directed at the man.

"Thanks for the drink," I say as I grab my purse and stand up from the table. I have to concentrate when I put my feet on the floor so I don't end up falling due to drunkenness.

I walk to the exit of the bar and head towards Alessia's car, which is parked a few meters from the front of the place. I hear her footsteps behind me.

"What happened?" she asks.

My heart is racing, and I don't even know why. What happened in there wasn't anything that hadn't happened before, but for some reason, it affected me to the point of wanting to cry. I didn't realize it would be such a big trigger for me.

"Nothing. I just..."

And then it happens. What has been pent up finally surfaces, and I burst into tears. The wave of emotion is so overwhelming that I can barely stay on my feet. I know there are people outside the bar staring at me now, but I couldn't hold it back even if I tried.

In an attempt to have more privacy, Alessia retrieves her car key from her purse, unlocks the passenger door, and guides me inside. She doesn't say anything, but holds my hand and waits for me to calm down.

I know my sobs echo through the car, but I couldn't keep them down even if I tried. I denied myself this feeling, and I knew it would take over me sooner or later.

I don't know how much time passes there. I am silently embraced by my best friend, who holds my hand firmly as if she feels that I might slip away at any moment.

"He cheated on me," the words come out between sobs. I watch her posture change beside me. "In September, Alessia."

"Son of a bitch," she whispers, and I'm not sure if it's directed at me or herself.

"I thought nothing was wrong. He was distant, but after everything, it was normal for that to happen," I break my gaze from Alessia and look down at our connected hands. "But then I found a fucking bracelet in his car. And a few days later, I found out who it belonged to."

"Did you talk to him?” Her voice is low, as if she's not sure if asking me something like that would be helpful or not in my situation.

I nodded at her before continuing to speak.

"I saw her, Alessia. I looked into her eyes while she confirmed to me that she was with my husband. I've never felt so ugly, ridiculous, and humiliated in my life."

I give myself a few seconds to try to calm down, but every time I start speaking again, the tears and despair come flooding back.

"He told me that I was distant, that I changed after the diagnosis. He tried to justify what he did" I say, feeling Alessia's hand gripping mine tightly, providing comfort. "I don't know what to do now."

I look back at her, and I can see the emotion in her eyes.

"You know what to do, Y/n. Look at yourself now, if this isn't a cry for help, I don't know what is. The only problem is that the only person who can get you out of this is yourself."

She pulls me into a tight hug, and we stay like that for some time.

"I'm so sorry. Truly, deeply sorry," She say, pulling away from the hug, but Alessia stays close to me. "I swear, I could kill him right now."

"I know," I manage to smile through my tears. "But I don't think that would solve much."

Alessia backs away from me when she realizes I have calmed down, and she starts the car.

"You can stay at my place as long as you want," she says, releasing the handbrake and preparing to drive out of the parking spot.

"No. I want to go home," I reply.

Alessia looks back at me.

"Y/n, I don't think it's a good idea. Stay with me for a few days, try to think about it away from him,"

"No, I don't want to run away. I shouldn't have even left home today." She keeps staring at me with the steering wheel in her hands. "Please, I need this."

Alessia looks at me for a few seconds before sighing in defeat.

"Alright."

The drive home isn't long. I try to calm down during the journey, but the closer we get, the more I feel the urge to turn back. I know I have to resolve this situation and make a decision soon, but I'm afraid of saying goodbye to the only good thing I've ever had in my life.

Author's notes: Thanks for your patience in waiting until now, and... CHAPTER 5 IS OUT NOW! GO, GO, GO!!

Taglist:

@slafgoalskybaby, @justanormalfangirlsworld, @ravenqueen27, @nakamotosmoron, @supersanelyromantic, @maryseesthings, @bebesobrielo, @tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden, @bbhyunee, @missamericana69, @thotsposts.

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, please let me know!

#au fanfiction #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton angst #angst fanfic

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idyat · 25 days

Note

i love your Jeb work aughhh 😩😭 ANYWAY may I request Jeb suggestive HC's? Like how he usually acts when he's horny or sumthun! THANKS!!!!!

I get a lot of Jebus requests huh? Also thank you!!!!

Jebus x reader, suggestive headcanons

WARNING: Suggestive of course

---------------------------

-Bashful man? Bashful man.

-He'll try to hide it out of embarrassement at first, trying to swat away the thoughts by going more on the fancy old timey romantic style or excusing himself so he can take time to regain his composure.

-But if you do notice him staring at you a bit too much? I'd suggest teasing him about it, his flustered reaction is delectable >:)

-If he does try to be a little more "flirty", he'll usually wrap a hand around your waist or slip his hands underneath your jacket when you hug. If the subtle touches are just enough to get a reaction out of you, he'll have a small grin and chuckle. Although he smiles and chuckles quite a bit around you already. It's always the little gestures with Jebus, whether they be purely romantic or with a more intimate intent.

-During these times, he'll subconsciously start speaking even fancier than he usually does, whether it be to court you or make it look like he's calm and composed and his heart isn't beating a thousand miles per hour. It usually fails for the latter.

-"Sweetie you're speaking Shakespearian english I can't undertsand what you're saying."

-Tell him he's cute when he's flustered and he'll be excited like a schoolgirl with a crush.

-Now most of the last part was in public, in private it's a little different.

-First of all, he'll be a lot less shy about it, even initiating kisses and hugs from behind himself. If you turn your head, you'll find the most lovestruck eyes and smile you've ever seen on a man.

-He actually has a thing for turning the lights off when you do things... like slow dance of cuddle. His halo will provide a beautiful spot light that makes it feel like it's only you two in the world.

-Jebus is actually quite affection starved after spending decades being cold and distant with everyone. You are the only one able to melt his heart, and now he absolutely adores every bit of intimacy he can get with you, from the little moments of unspoken love to the sheer intensity of the bedroom.

-If he gets a look at your body? Ooh boy, give him a minute so he can ask the Lord to forgive him for his thoughts and make sure he doesn't faint.

-You can hear him quietly whisper words of affection as he rubs your waist. Not sweet nothings though, he wants his words to have substance and meaning, so you're getting all the sweet somethings in the world.

-He likes your waist. When he's a little pent up, he likes to rub, hold or wrap his arms around it. Sometimes he'll even lift you up by your waits, just for the romance of it.

-It's pretty endearing how you can make this confident and stubborn so shy. He just doesn't want to break his morals with you, because he judges that you deserve them more than anyone else.

-He's already rather protective, but after this, he might start displaying jusst a little bit of PDA. An arm around you, petnames spoken a little bit more loudly, just out of affection, just to make sure others know you're taken :)

-If you want to do the Act though, you better be married already, or he's making the ceremony 👏here👏and👏now.

#madness combat #madcom #madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #suggestive #madcom jebus x reader #mc jebus x reader #mc jebus #madness combat jebus #madcom jebus #jebus #jebus x reader

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sweethartlullaby · 8 months

Text

too little too late

word count: 687 genre/theme: angst, mixed signals as always imagine who you would like... sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

“You’re here and then suddenly you’re gone. I don’t understand you sometimes!” She doesn’t sound mad but he isn’t sure if that was a good thing. His heart is racing and he can feel himself itching to scream.

He doesn’t like hearing raised voices, which he is sure she knows. But she sounds more exhausted than angry and he is trying to push aside his thoughts to try and help her.

“I’m sorr-”

“No!” She turns to him and her face speaks as if she doesn’t understand what he doesn’t see. She sits across from him and he searches her eyes for answers.

“I don’t want you to apologize. I want you to answer me.” She says but her voice is shaking and he knows she’s on the verge.

“Do you want this?”

He first met her at a party. They danced together that night and he immediately fell for her. But she was from someplace else and he couldn’t leave his own at that time. They keep in touch and meet when she’s in town. She stayed over once and had dinner with his family. Most times, he feels that she is his reason. When he’s with her, he doesn’t feel trapped in his room, chasing the dream no one else but she believes in.

“Am I worth it to you?” She asks with her eyes and as much as he wants to answer, he can’t bring himself to do so. He looks away and moments later, he hears sniffles.

“I can’t stay around here, waiting for someone who doesn’t know if they want me,” She says and he clenches his gathered fists. He has to say something now or he will lose her forever.

He turns back as he breathes out her name, lungs gasping for air as he builds the courage he needs to speak. His tears are hot against his cheeks as he blurts the words out.

“Please don’t leave.” She looks at him, confusion clear on her face.

“I know,” He fully faces her now, voice quivering as the words make their way up his throat, scratching and inching towards his lips.

“I know I am an asshole for making you confused but I promise you. This,” He gestures to the space between them, the small gap he wants to close badly.

“This thing we have is worth it.” He whispers, hoping she sees reason.

She calls his name as if she’s about to speak but he cuts her right off.

“Please, I’ll do better. I’ll stop being a mess. I’ll be better.” He says but she doesn’t say anything. She looks distant like she isn’t really there. As silence fills the room, she looks down at her hands, the same ones he used to intertwine his fingers with. He can hear his own heartbeat. He remains hopeful, even when she is still in tears across him.

“I waited for months.” She finally lets out.

“I waited for so long and you still hesitated.” He feels his heart sink as he stares at her, waiting for her to say ‘But’. Just waiting for that one word that can give him a little bit of hope for their future.

When it doesn’t come, everything starts to blur again.

But he cannot blame her. He cannot say this is a selfish decision. He left her out in the cold so many times and she does deserve better. He cannot beg her because deep down, he knows she chose herself. And as someone who loves her, shouldn’t that be the thing he wants?

She looks up at him again and takes a deep breath. She says the words but he cannot hear them. He watches her lips move and lets his tears fall silently.

Maybe when the leaves have died and the air is colder, maybe then it will be right for them. Maybe then, he can try again. But for now, he only looks as she takes her things and leaves.

And when the door clicks softly, only then he repeats her last words to him in his head.

“This is for our good.”

a/n: a mixed signals fic! i'd love to hear who you imagined for this one! i wrote it with mingyu (svt) in mind but i always write it out with the intention that anyone can imagine whoever! i hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!

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montrealmadison · 3 months

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I'd love to read a happy snuggly fic about Bitty & Jack.

Number #15 (for Bitty 😉)

thank you for this delightful prompt! whenever i get stuck on where to start with jack and bitty, i always revert to them snuggling. this was a really nice excuse to polish a scene that i've had kicking around my WIP folder forever. hope it's okay that the boys took it in a, shall we say, steamy direction. ❤️

15. zimbits + happy snuggly vibes + I Love You Always Forever by Betty Who for @jadedmandarin81

You’ve got the most unbelievable blue eyes I’ve ever seen You’ve got me almost melting away

Hot morning sun on his shoulders, a big, hot hand on the small of his back, and Bitty has no clue where he is.

He blinks, and—right. His childhood bedroom, sometime after sunrise: lemon-yellow walls, a mess of posters, crisp white curtains hanging limp from the humidity. It can’t be very late, because Coach’s morning shower isn’t whining through the walls yet. July fifth dawns the same every blessed year: Mama having a lie-in, Coach firing up the truck, long lazy days of few words and a blue sky and a beer that Bitty's too young to be drinking. Lord, what he wouldn’t give to be fifteen and at the lake right now, cold water closing over his head.

He brings himself slowly back to earth by wishing really hard that the Olympic-sized rink behind Michelle Kwan’s paper smile would just sort of… replace the air conditioner they haven’t been able to afford to fix for years. As it stands, he’s fucking hot.

Jack, for all that he’s peaceful in sleep, is not helping. Bitty’s cheek is stuck to his bare chest, his massive thighs are trapping Bitty’s calves, and every inch of bare skin in between is tacky and gross. The Jack of his dreams is so tangled up with the call of the ice that he feels like he should be cold by default. Jack should be white and gray and blue; frosted winter mornings, distant sun, minty breath. The Jack of reality is—well, he’s beautiful, dark sweeping lashes and all that, but he’s just as sweaty as Bitty is and his breath definitely does not smell like mint.

Bitty doesn’t mind.

read more below or on ao3 | request a fic here

He’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. From the moment they’d locked eyes at baggage claim, this weekend has been the weirdest song and dance: Bitty letting Jack into his life inch by inch, arranging the pieces of his soul for approval. Here’s where I went to high school. Here’s our family dinner table. Here’s my truck bed. Let’s make out. In return, apparently, he gets to have this now: his college hockey captain, on his back in Bitty’s bed, breathing slow and deep and measured with his hand skimming Bitty’s ass.

That’s my best friend. The thought makes Bitty feel floaty and weird. He knows Jack’s gym schedule and the slant of his real smile and what he eats for breakfast, but he’s only seen him sleep once: the morning of graduation, when they’d climbed up to the roof of Faber and Bitty had woken up on Jack’s shoulder, in the folds of a jacket that smelled like him.

He hadn’t let himself believe, even then, that they might be more. After all, the thing about Jack is that sooner or later he’s always stopped being Jack and turned back into Jack Zimmermann, a living legend in the shape of a teammate. Bitty had pretended it was easy, once, not to lean into the intimacy of knowing just a little more than everyone else. It feels new and exhilarating and dangerous for him to get to see Jack like this now, all pretenses abandoned, one of his wildest fantasies come to life.

Jack chooses that moment to stir, like he can hear Bitty’s thoughts shouting his name. Bitty feels the flush rising in his cheeks, embarrassed that Jack’s caught him staring—but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, just lets out a long satisfied breath through his nose and murmurs, morning-low, “Bittle.”

Lord, but that makes something pop in Bitty’s gut and then fizzle into butterflies. Before last night he’d never even really been kissed before, and now—and now. His senses are overloaded, filled with the flash-fire knowledge that at long last someone else wants this as badly as he does.

“Jack,” he says, sure that his morning voice must sound squeaky and childish in comparison.

But Jack’s eyes on his face are sleepy dark blue, weighty with something that looks a hell of a lot like approval. Bitty follows the slow roll of Jack’s Adam’s apple so he won’t do something really embarrassing, like explode and die.

“Bitty,” Jack sighs again. Jesus Christ. There go Bitty’s chances of getting out of this bed alive. “‘S’hot.”

“Yes,” Bitty grumps, but neither of them make a move to separate. That self-satisfied thing flashes through him again. Jack is, apparently, so into this, into him; the bruises to prove it are probably already darkening low on his belly and hips. Being watched this way makes Bitty feel slightly insane, drunk with power.

“I like this,” Jack says. His voice rumbles, far-off thunder. Bitty thinks about flash floods, dams breaking, the crackshot sound of shattering ice.

“What?”

“Waking up with you.”

There’s the sincerity that’s been driving Bitty wild all weekend. He’s long since mastered the art of lying smoothly through his teeth, but Jack’s graceless honesty punches holes through every pretense he can muster. It’s how Jack got him on his back in the truck bed last night, why they apparently can’t stop talking unless they find other ways to occupy their mouths. Just like that, Bitty's cheeks are in full flame.

“Me too,” he says, too quickly. Jack doesn’t seem to notice. His arms are huge, and Bitty is welcome in them. He feels positively unhinged. He has zero desire to move.

“Do we have to get up?”

“Probably,” Bitty groans, seizing the change of topic with both hands. He thunks his forehead into Jack’s shoulder for emphasis. “Coach’ll be up soon.”

“‘Kay,” says Jack, not moving one blessed inch.

Bitty squirms a little, thrilled. They keep ending up on the same page, wanting the same things. Feeling bold, Bitty mouths over the hot expanse of skin between Jack's shoulder and his neck, loving the way Jack immediately makes that pleased sound deep in his throat.

"Sorry."

“For—ah."

Jack honest-to-god moans when Bitty reaches the spot beneath his ear, and that's it: Bitty's deceased. He's gone. He's gonna die right here in his childhood bedroom, and he'll be damn well pleased about it. "Don't be—sorry for what?”

“That it’s not private,” Bitty murmurs. He waves his free hand toward the door, beyond which his parents hopefully believe that Bitty and his good friend Jack are passed out in separate rooms after the (completely tame, very platonic) excitement of last night's festivities. It seems like a tall order even in his head. He's gonna have to spend the next month before he goes back to school being very careful about the thoughts he lets show on his face.

When Bitty flexes his toes against Jack's bare leg under the sheets to prompt an answer, Jack hums a little, turns and drags his nose lightly across Bitty's forehead. "Don’t be sorry,” he says. “Actually, I was thinking about that last night."

"You were? Huh," Bitty says. "Sounds like I didn't do a very good job, then."

Jack gives him a gentle, one-handed shove. "After... uh, well. After that." He blushes so pretty, right over his nose and hot up his cheeks. Bitty kind of wants to eat him whole. "What would you say about coming to visit me?"

Forget what he’d say; Bitty can barely even think about it without going insane. Just the two of them, alone, four soundproof walls and a chance to figure this out for real. "In Providence?"

"Yes,” Jack says. “And we can do, um. More. Of what we did last night.”

Bitty is acutely aware of Jack’s hand, which is now rubbing little circles into his back, and all the other places it was last night, and how much he’d like for it to be in those places again.

“Yes, okay,” he says, too quickly to be polite; Jack is grinning, though, so. Right answer.

"Deal."

Bitty smiles back, megawatt. "Deal."

"First I have to make it home, though," Jack says. "Got a whole kitchen to get ready for you, eh?"

He says get ready like it has multiple meanings, and Bitty gets to pick the one he wants. Despite the heat, he finds himself shivering in anticipation.

"Sounds amazing," Bitty says, definitely not just talking about the kitchen. He shoves Jack back, teasing. This is his best friend and so much more. "Then you better get packin', mister, you got a flight to catch."

When the alarm clock goes off down the hall, Jack rolls out of bed and goes for his bag, sleepy chirps in full effect. Bitty stays put, though, watching. The sun catches just right on the hard planes of Jack’s shoulders, melting winter into spring, and Bitty is okay with losing control.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #zimbits #my writing #efickegster 2024 #thank you thank you this was so much fun ❤️ i hope you enjoy!

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separatist-apologist · 1 year

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What do you think about the theory that Rhysand was never supposed to be the main love interest? I can kind of see it, but was curious about your thoughts.

I disagree vehemently, and I would argue that there were a million obvious hints in ACOTAR that show Feyre was always going to end up with Rhysand. I think two things can be true: that she loved him and he was always going to be her first love AND that Rhysand was always meant to be her last love.

But just to back it up:

As early as page 15, the infamous:

I slung off my outer clothes onto the sagging dresser- frowning at the violets and roses I'd painted around the knobs of Elain's drawer, the crackling flames I'd painted around Nesta's, and the night sky-whorls of yellow stars standing in for white- around mine.

And then again, on page 31 when discussing why she'd chosen Isaac as a lover:

Relatively handsome, soft-spoken and reserved, but with a sort of darkness running beneath it all that had drawn us to each other, that shared understanding of how wretches our lives were and would always be.

When Lucien pays Feyre his backhanded compliment on page 53, he uses familiar night imagery often used to describe Feyre:

Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold.

Here, on page 87, an amusing bit of foreshadowing about Feyre's future:

Prythian was ruled by seven High Lords- perhaps this she was whoever governed this territory; if not a High Lord, then a High Lady. If that was even possible.

When Feyre is faced with the Bogge and wants to look, she soothes herself (pg. 90):

I stared at the coarse trunk of a distant elm, thinking of pleasant things. Like hot bread and full bellies....A starry, unclouded night sky, peaceful and glittering and endless.

On 116, when Feyre finds the map of Pyrthian of all 7 territories, only one is spared any detail outside of the place she currently resides:

The other six courts of Prythian occupied a patchwork of territories. Autumn, Summer, and Winter were easy to pick out. Then above them, two glowing courts: the southernmost one a softer, redder palate the Dawn Court; above, in bright gold and yellow and blue, the Day Court. And above that, perched in a frozen mountainous spread of darkness and stars, the sprawling, massive territory of the Night Court. There were things in the shadows between those mountains- little eyes, gleaming teeth. A land of lethal beauty.

On 125, Feyre considers what she might want if she were immortal:

Did Tamlin or Lucien ever grow tired of day after day of eternal spring, or ever venture into the other territories, if only to experience a different season? I wouldn't have minded endless, mild spring while looking after my family- winter brought us dangerously close too death every year- but if I were immortal, I might want a little variation to pass the time. I'd probably want to do more than lurk about a manor house, too.

The first time Feyre really starts to relax around Tamlin and find joy in Prythian and her circumstances is at the pool made of starlight, which is such a long passage I'm just glossing over. Tamlin does comment she makes TWO jokes that day, and I'm choosing to draw a parallel between this moment and in ACOMAF when Feyre smiles for the first time after her ordeal under the mountain during Starfall. Feyre feels most at peace surrounded by starlight. [pg 159ish]

On 169, when Feyre thinks of her nightmares:

And though my dreams continued to be plagued by the deaths I'd witnessed, the deaths I'd caused, and the horrible, pale woman ripping me to shreds- all watched over by a shadow I could never quite glimpse-I slowly stopped being so afraid.

When Feyre can't stay away on Calanmai / mating bond language that SJM loves (pg. 183):

There was a string- a string tied to my gut that pulled me toward those hills, commanding me to go, to hear the faerie drums...

And then obviously this, on page 188:

Standing before me was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen

Like Feyre, Rhys is couched in Night imagery (pg. 189):

As if he'd been molded from the night itself I could have sworn tendrils of star-kissed night railed in his wake (190)

On 235, when Rhys goes to visit Tamlin, he alludes to the fact that he has his reasons for aligning with Amarantha, which are later explained in ACOMAF:

Her whore I might be, but not without my reasons

Also Feyre describing Rhys through the entirety of the scene in the Spring Court dining room is like...a brick to the face (starting page 234):

Rhysand smiled- heartbreaking in its beauty.

His voice dropped to a whisper- an erotic caress of sound that brought heat to my cheeks

Rhysand laughed- a lovers laugh, low and soft and intimate

And from the way darkness seemed to ripple off him, from those violet eyes that burned like stars...

No- I would never dare to pain that dark, immortal grace-

Rhysand, when he realizes Feyre (who he is beginning to suspect might be his mate) is there (pg. 237):

A flicker of excitement- perhaps even disbelief- flashed across his features

Again, described in the same night imagery:

The sunlight didn't gleam on the metallic threads of his tunic, as if i balked from the darkness pulsing from him

on 310, when Amarantha demands Rhys explain the mix-up with humans, she thinks this when he lies:

Humans all look alike...I didn't believe him for a second. Rhysand knew exactly how I looked- he'd recognized me that day at the manor.

On 312, once again hating Rhys but thinking this about him:

She must have allowed him more power than the others, then, if he could still inflict such harm while leashed to her. Or else his power before she'd stolen it had been...extraordinary, for this to be considered the basest remains.

The obvious on 328:

"Yes, I'd say almost my entire court bet on you dying within the firs minute; some said you'd last five, and"- she urned over the paper- "and just one person said you would win."

Amarantha frowned at her list, and she waved a hand. "Take her away. I tire of her mundane face. " She clenched the arms of her throne hard enough that the whites of her knuckles showed. "Rhysand, come here."

The bargain of chapter 37, too numerous to detail (this is already so long)

The entire scene of Feyre in his bedroom, but especially this on page 342:

Indeed, it was still Rhysand's face, his powerful male body, but flaring out behind him were massive black, membraneous wings- like a bat's, like the Attor's. He tucked them in neatly behind him, but the single claw at the apex of each peeked over his broad shoulders. Horrific, stunning- the face of a thousand nightmares and dreams. That again-useless part of me stirred at the sight, the way the candlelight shone through the wings, illuminating the veins, the way it bounced off his talons.

344:

They grabbed for me, but he bared his teeth in a mile that was anything but friendly- and they halted. "No more household chores, no more tasks," he said, his voice an erotic caress. Their yellow eyes went glazed and dull, their sharp teeth gleaming as their mouths slackened. "Tell the others, too. Stay out of her cell. And don't touch her. If you do, you're to take your own daggers and gut yourselves. Understood?

When Rhys is trying to get a rise out of both Amarantha AND Tamlin on 349:

The Faerie Queen straightened a little bit- even Jurian's eye seemed fixated on me, on Rhysand. For the rest of my life- he said it as if it were going to be a long, long while. He thought I was going to beat her tasks.

Page 355, when they're talking (more mating bond foreshadowing):

Sadness flickered in those violet eyes. I wouldn't have noticed it had I had not...felt it-deep inside me.

His help in the second task, but especially this pep talk when she's breaking down over the thought of nearly dying on 366:

Don't let her see you cry. Put your hands a your sides and stand up. Stand. Don't give her the satisfaction of seeing you break. Good. Stare her down- no tears. wait until you're back in your cell. Count to ten. Don't look at Tamlin. Just stare at her. Good girl. Now walk away. Turn on your heel- good. Walk toward the door. Keep your chin high. Let the crowd part. One step after another.

369, this feels blatant:

It took me a long while too realize that Rhysand, whether he knew it or not, had effectively kept me from shattering completely.

Rhys visiting Feyre after that kiss and explaining why he's been making her dance, and what he hopes to accomplish on page 384:

Regardless of his motives or his methods, Rhysand was keeping me alive. And had done so even before I set foot Under the Mountain.

-and-

"When you healed my arm...You didn't need to bargain with me. You could have demanded every single week of the year." My brows knit together as he turned, already half-consumed by the dark. "Every single week, and I would have said yes. " It wasn't entirely a question, but I needed the answer.

A half smile appeared on his sensuous lips. "I know," he said, and vanished.

390:

Darkness rippled near the throne, and then Rhysand was here, arms crossed- as if he'd moved to better see. His face was a mask of disinterest, but my hand tingled. Do it, the tingling said.

394, Feyre once again drawing our attention to Rhysand during this horrible moment:

Rhysand's face had gone pale- so, so pale.

399, obvious foreshadowing:

Rhysand yelled my name again- yelled it as though he cared

400-401, more mating bond language:

Rhys's arms buckled as he fought to rise, and blood dripped from his nose, splattering on the marble. His eyes met mine. The bond between us went taut. I flashed between my body and his, seeing myself through his eyes, bleeding and broken and sobbing.

Chapter 45, when Feyre is dead but tethered to Rhys's soul, like COME ON.

412, more mating bond language as Feyre goes to Rhys:

I was pulled from sleep by something tugging at my middle, a thread deep inside.

414-415, two final scenes:

"You never told me you loved the wings- or the flying." No, he'd made his shape shifting seem...base, useless, boring.

He shrugged. Everything I love has always had a tendency to be taken from me. I tell very few about the winds. Or the flying."

-and then-

His eyes locked on mine, wide and wild, and his nostrils flared. Shock- pure shock flashed across his features at whatever he saw on my face, and he stumbled back a step. Actually stumbled.

Sorry this was so long. It escaped me BUT Feysand was always right there from the beginning. They were always going to be together, from book 1. SJM is a fated mates writer, and I think it's a blatant misrepresentation of the book she wrote to say ACOMAF is a retcon, and Feysand was never going to happen. People are free to disagree with me, of course, and say I'm wrong (but I'm not).

#feysand #pro feysand #all the tamlin asks lately like i know what yall are trying to do and i came prepared #im not saying feyre didnt love tamlin or that she didnt do all that for him #but i am saying books are written intentionally #and feysands groundwork was ALWAYS there #it was never going to be anything but feysand endgame

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razor-tits · 5 months

Text

A very long and over due life update.

So, to start this off I guess I need to back up. Let's start in October. It feels like yesterday but also a lifetime ago. Things were...ok I'd say. Boring, routine, the only shake up was my hormones ran out and my job was changing our insurance, so I had to cancel my follow up appointment for bloodwork and a refill. But then I got some bad news from my parents.

My dad had a heart attack and was in the hospital. He was ok, but he needed surgery. First they thought just a stent, but then decided he needed a triple bypass. I have a pretty good relationship with my parents, but we're kind of distant. I live a few hours away and only see them around the holidays but we talk on the phone weekly. My dad can lean a little on the conservative side but both of them are the absolute salt of the earth. They're done so much to help me and I felt powerless to be able to help. I couldn't leave work and felt like there was nothing I could do.

The next couple weeks were rough, my dad was staying in the hospital, my mom was going back and forth staying with him and taking care of my grandma, who is in her late 80's and has a litany of health issues. On a Friday I finally managed to make the drive home and spend the weekend there. Seeing my dad laid up in a hospital gown tied to machines is something i'll never forget. He could get up and move and acted like he was ok. But he's one of those guys you meet and you think he's invincible. The kind of guy that put a new roof on our house with a broken finger and can't turn away a stray animal at the door. Some family members I hadn't seen in a long time came and went over the weekend. Thoughts of our own mortality set in and I realize this could be the last time I see any of them.

I've lost people before. Some of them suddenly and unexpectedly. Others who's death was almost a sigh of relief after fighting for so long. I never got to say goodbye when my friend died and I hope he knows how much he meant to me. I don't want to feel that again, ever.

The day of surgery came. He was in the OR for 3 hours but it felt like an eternity and a second at the same time. A few hours after that my mom and I were able to see him. He was extubated already, which was a good sign. But he was on heavy medication, incoherent, coming in and out of sleep. But he knew I was there and that's all that mattered.

I had to leave and make my way back to my parents to get my dog, and then make the 2 hour drive back to Ohio and go back to work in the morning. At this point I knew my dad would be ok, he just had to get through recovery. But now thoughts of my own health were worrying me. I'm not in the best shape, I don't exercise or work out. I've already had surgery to fix stomach problems. Everyone on my dad's side has heart problems, and everyone on my mom's side has cancer and diabetes. There's not much I do to prevent any of that. I'm in my 30's and I feel it, maybe more than I should.

Over the next couple months my mental health continues to fall. I had a birthday and spent it sick, as I always seem to do. It's always a rough time of year for me. Seasonal depression kicks in, I get older, and another year passes. My dog, my best friend, the reason I kept myself alive, is getting old. I see it more and more every day and it breaks my heart.

The holidays came and went. I saw my grandma for the first time in a few years. Always wondering if it will be the last. Despite that, this year I never felt less in the holiday spirit. I used to love this time of year, now I desperately try to enjoy it, but part of me just wants it to be over. The best part seems to be a few days off work.

At this point it should be noted I have not restarted hormones. My identity has always been more in flux than i've let on, and maybe that needs to be it's own post, but I don't know if I want to start again or not. I don't know what I want, I don't know what my goals are. I don't know who i am. Beyond basic hygiene, I really don't even feel like taking care of myself most days. I pretty much always feel melancholic. I'm not angry, I don't get excited, I don't have much joy. My sex drive is non existent and I have no desire to do...well, anything.

New year's comes and I honestly couldn't care. It feels like another day. My gf and I go out and have an Ok time. I'm just so tired all the time it's hard for me to go out and enjoy myself like I used to.

And then, a couple days ago my landlord calls. We have to move out. Not sure when, but probably soon. I'm heartbroken and panicking over it. We absolutely love our house. We've only been here about a year and a half but it's been wonderful. It has plenty of room, privacy, it's quiet. We can leave our doors unlocked and packages aren't stolen off our porch. We're allowed both of our dogs and all 3 of our cats with no issues. We've invested so much time and money here. My gf is close with the owners and their children, who were the previous tenants. We even thought about trying to buy this house off of them when their other kid moves out of the downstairs apartment. And it's affordable. Anything else like what we have now will cost double and we can't afford that.

Our last apartment was tiny, cramped, dark and ran by an awful property investment company. And now we have to deal with that again. If we can even find a place where we can take 5 animals. We can hide 2 of the cats, but not all of them. We're in no position to buy nor do we have the time to go through the process. My gf said we may have to find 2 different apartments and live separately for a while. Just the thought of that brings me to tears. I can't live without her, I can't live without our pets. We're a family. I don't know what to do.

Since I got the phone call I've done nothing but panic, contact rental agencies and weigh my options. None of them are good. Best case scenario is we move in a smaller, worse place, paying more rent.

Nothing is going right for me. I know this isn't insurmountable and nothing that people haven't gone through before. But...god damn I need a break and I can't get one.

#i just needed to vent #dont reblog

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itsgoghtime · 5 months

Text

World in Color

Chapter II

Words : 3288

CW : fluff but ✨gingerbread edition✨

taglist : @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @valmare @horserad-ish

"You know, you don't have to make it all from scratch, Pumpkin. For example, I don't think they will be able to tell the difference between a jolly rancher window and the candied sugar." Will's hand rested on her lower back as he sat next to her at the table, his thumb moving in a comforting motion.

They had been courting since October, and despite some of his Marine buddies telling him the spark would fade with girls - to be cautious about getting attached, it hadn't. Not with Pumpkin, he'd told them. She was special.

"But... Spooky, they might." Pumpkin sighed softly, looking over the plans for the custom gingerbread house she was making for the city council event. "I just want it to be perfect."

"Everything you make is perfect." Will kissed her temple. "You've just got to trust that."

Will had never seen such magic before. He knew Pumpkin was talented - he had known it since day one. But the way she practically danced around her kitchen while she baked, the way her eyes narrowed slightly in focus, and the methodical way she followed her recipe - it was all so enchanting.

Measurements precise, mixed to perfection, then those hands he so much loved to hold in his began their work.

She had put Spooky to work from the beginning, trusting him to follow her mathematic measurements and cut the paper templates for her.

"Just about ready to bring the wall templates over, love?" Her voice was soft and distant. He knew she was in the zone.

"Of course, Pumpkin. Almost there." He finished his work with the exacto knife, delicately bringing the paper templates to her.

"Your architectural plans, your ladyship." Will bowed to her, and she smirked as she set the paper templates on top of the gingerbread.

"William, what would I do without you?" Pumpkin asked quietly, her eyes soft.

"You'd be much less amused than you are now." Will smirked, moving in and resting his hands on her hips. "Besides, that's my question to be asking."

Her hands came up and met his cheeks, but before they could share what Will knew would have been a tender moment, she gasped softly.

"Oh my stars, I didn't..." She moved her hands, and chuckled.

"What?" Will's brow furrowed slightly, worried only a moment before Pumpkin held her hands to face Will. This made him begin to laugh with her.

They were covered in flour. And upon inspection of a finger on his cheek... yep. Flour there too.

Spooky saw the apology written in those bewitching eyes, and he pulled her to his lips.

"Nope. Don't even say it. It was funny. Makes me feel a part of it all." He whispered as he bumped her nose affectionately.

"Well, if you like it so much, you can help me lay these wall templates out."

♡ ♡ ♡

Still amazed by her attention to detail, Will noticed how little waste there was, even after cutting all the pieces out. She made gingerbread characters with the leftover dough.

It took them hours to bake it all, but finally, in the early afternoon, the last two pans went into the oven.

"I have to say, I am thankful for your help, Spooky. This would have taken me ages by myself." She looked down, laughing at all the flour on herself.

"Of course, darling. Getting to spend a whole morning baking with you - and getting covered in flour? There's nowhere I'd rather be." Will kissed her softly.

The phone rang faintly, and Pumpkin sighed as she pulled away. "I really need to get a new phone, or get the battery changed or something. It doesn't ring as loud as it used to." She moved to answer the call, but Spooky put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll get that." Will kissed her once more, rinsing his hands quickly at the sink before moving to answer her phone.

"Hello? Haha, very funny, Erin. Yes, of course I am over here. We're neck deep in gingerbread."

Pumpkin moved to look over the plans for the gingerbread house, and Will moved to face the pantry as he talked to Erin.

"Yes, of course I'll ask. What... no, Erin. Not yet. Love you too, bye." Will hung up the phone and put it back on its receiver. "Pumpkin, my love, Erin was wondering if..."

Will froze as he turned around, seeing his love slumped on the counter, head in her hands, shoulders shaking slightly. She was crying.

"Hey..." He whispered, putting an arm around her and rubbing her back. "What's wrong?"

"I cut the walls out backwards - the windows are supposed to be at the front, not the back. And it's already in the oven. It's ruined." She whimpered softly. "My second custom gingerbread house, ruined."

"C'mere." Will gently nudged, and she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

He gently rested his head on hers, holding her tight in what she had deemed were his "teddy bear arms".

Spooky let her cry for a few minutes, and noticed she began to match his breathing.

"Pumpkin, you're working too hard. Come with me."

She wiped her tears and took his hand as he pulled away, moving to the front entrance.

"Will, we can't leave for a long time, we've got the house in the oven."

"We'll just be out in your yard, love. We won't be gone long." He helped her put her coat on, kissing her temple again and opening the front door.

♡ ♡ ♡

Having spent almost half of the day inside, the cold crisp air of the overcast afternoon refreshed Will. His eyes wandered the snow swept yard, noticing the additional inch or two on the sidewalk. He made a mental note to shovel and salt her walks before he left in the evening.

Right behind Will, Pumpkin stepped outside, breathing in the biting frost and letting the snowflakes gently fall on her face. Pumpkin began to relax.

And then, Will threw the first snowball.

The way she flipped around with wide eyes made Will laugh harder than he thought he ever could. But that laughter turned to nervous chuckling as her eyes filled with mischief and a sweet sort of desire for reckoning.

"Hey, Spooky..."

"Pumpkin, you..." He was pelted in the arm with a snowball. "Oh, you're going to get it!"

The snow flew across Pumpkin's front lawn for about fifteen minutes, and Will was quite pleased to see she was feeling better. It was in the way her eyes sparkled and in how she laughed, so lighthearted and excited.

In his moment of relief, she tackled him to the ground and laughed.

"I win." She declared, running her fingers through his hair. Will reached up and ran his thumb along her cheekbone.

"Feeling better, Pumpkin?"

She leaned down and kissed him, smiling as they pulled apart and bumped noses affectionately.

"Better now. We'd better go check the gingerbread."

Will chuckled, his hands resting at her hips as his eyes studied her. "Oh, I don't know. I kind of like where I'm at."

Pumpkin rolled her eyes, and smirked. "Come on, lover boy. We've got work to do."

♡ ♡ ♡

They took the gingerbread out of the oven just five minutes later, transferring their parchment papers from the hot pan to the counter. "Perfectly baked," she had remarked to Will with a sigh of disappointment.

"They still aren't in the right direction. This will put me back at least a day or two."

Will looked at the pieces, and then the plans she had drawn up for them.

"Pumpkin, I think you might be alright."

She turned to Will, confused. He showed her the plans.

"Now, please correct me if I am mistaken, but you could technically just use the bottom side of the pieces. Can I demonstrate for you?"

Pumpkin nodded, and Will took a couple of the smaller pieces and stood them up.

"Because this building is mirrored, and because you measured every piece almost exactly, instead of being like this..." Will showed her the pieces with the slightly round sides out. He then switched them, so the flat part from the pan was out. "... you do this."

Pumpkin's eyes lit up. Spooky set the pieces down, turning to look at her. He watched the relief flood her entire being, her shoulders relaxing and her brow unfurrowing - and the way her gaze twinkled as she looked over her cooling cookies.

Will felt her hug him before his mind registered it. He embraced her tightly.

"Thank you, Spooky. You just saved Christmas." She chuckled.

"It's not over yet, my Brave Little Toaster."

♡ ♡ ♡

Just as Will had said, a week passed, and everything turned out all right. The gingerbread houses were delivered, freeing up Pumpkin's afternoons and evenings for Will to court her as he wished.

"You mean to tell me that you have never bought a real tree for Christmas before?"

She shook her head. "It had never really crossed my mind."

"Oh, Pumpkin. This will be fun." Will gave her hand a squeeze. "Let's check in the 6 foot section - the measurements of your living room will probably only fit that much."

Rows upon rows of pine - the scent left Will with a slight bout of childhood nostalgia, reminding him of the one Christmas his parents had bought the family a tree, not just one Erin had saved up her allowances for, as she had every year before - and every year after. Although, while those trees were much like the cartoon of Charlie Brown he adored, those were the trees that meant something. They made Christmas feel like home.

Pumpkin squeezed his hand softly as she stopped in front of a tree, bringing him back to the present.

"I have always thought it would be fun to work on a Christmas tree farm."

Will smiled. "Yeah?"

Pumpkin nodded. "I know that's kinda ridiculous, considering I have never had a real tree before. But I like the romanticized idea." She sighed softly, looking up at the tree in front of them. "I think this is the one. What do you think?"

Will looked at it and smiled. "Perfect pick, Pumpkin."

"I know." Will looked down at her and saw that she wasn't looking at the tree, she was looking at him.

♡ ♡ ♡

Taking the tree home proved more difficult than they had anticipated. It wasn't that bringing Will's truck wasn't helpful. It was.

It was getting the darn plant through the front door that was proving arduous.

"I am so, so sorry." Pumpkin chuckled, holding the top of the tree as Will muscled the bottom.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"This is..." She laughed as he shoved the rest of the tree through the doorframe. "...challenging."

"No, no, my love." Will kissed her forehead as he set the tree down for a moment. "Nothing is too difficult if it's for you." He sighed softly, looking at her living room.

"You just wanted it in the middle of the three windows, right?"

"Right."

♡ ♡ ♡

"I like your lights." Will chuckled, helping her hang a string of popcorn.

"Thank you. I usually line my windows with them, but with a tree, I think I don't need to line the windows too. They're my favorite lights, for sure."

Pumpkin pulled the small box of ornaments from the couch and held it in her arms.

"I don't have a lot to decorate with, but take into account I have never had a tree this big before."

"Well, I think your collection is perfect." The last of the ornaments went on. "And now, we can sit back and relax and..."

"Wait. Hold on a second." Pumpkin kissed his cheek, squeezing his arm softly as she dashed past him into her bedroom.

"What are you..."

"Got it!" Her feet padded back into the living room, and Will's attention was immediately drawn to the small box in her hands.

"What's that, love?" He took the box in his hands as she offered it to him.

"Open it." She bit her lip, the corners of her mouth twisting to her nervous smile.

Will licked his bottom lip and bit it softly, focusing as he worked the tape off the seal of the box. His eyes widened in pleasant surprise as he pulled the item out of the box.

It was an ornament. It fit in the palm of his hand, and he twisted it around and his smile widened.

Hand painted, was the first thing he noticed. It was a simple white, with little Wisconsin blue violets all over.

Then, their names on one side, and on the other, "Spooky and Pumpkin's First Christmas, 2002".

"Pumpkin..." Will said softly.

"Sorry, I know it's kinda silly."

"No, no. This is beautiful. Thank you." He smiled, kissing her once.

"I know just where to put it too." Spooky's arm lifted it to the higher part of the tree, where there was a spot.

"You just put it there so I can't take it down if I get self conscious."

Will smirked.

♡ ♡ ♡

Christmas as a child was completely different from Christmas as an adult. Will's mom didn't like Christmas, and his father hadn't ever been around for the holiday, besides the one year he was and bought them a tree. It was Erin who had decided she and Will would celebrate.

It had meant they didn't have many presents on the actual day, but Erin had managed to somehow make Christmas Eve more special than Christmas Day. They'd read the Christmas Story from the Bible their father kept, and share an orange.

This season, Will was going to spend it with Pumpkin, and make a visit to Erin the next morning. The enchantment was still there. And with Pumpkin, he was sure it would be even better.

"Honey, I'm back." Pumpkin called from the front door, slipping out of her wet boots and slipping back into the kitchen. She giggled softly at the sight of Will, wearing her gingerbread apron.

"Hey cutie, did you get..." Will saw her giggling and finished what he was working on, turning to look at her. "...what?" Spooky chuckled back, noticing Pumpkin double over. He looked down at his apron and laughed. "You don't have any other aprons out. What else was I supposed to use?"

"You look very cute in my apron, darling." She laughed, up on her tip toes and kissing his cheek before she set the groceries down on the counter. "I got the frozen corn, like you asked."

Will thanked her and cut open the package, adding it to the shepherd's pie.

"What else was in the bag?"

Pumpkin laughed. "Cookie dough."

Will turned and saw the classic Pillsbury Christmas cookies and chuckled.

"Don't judge - I've been making gingerbread for a month. These sounded good." She stood next to him at the counter, plopping them down onto a cookie sheet. "And easy."

Will kissed her temple and she giggled again.

"What is it this time?"

"I just... I can't take you seriously in that apron."

♡ ♡ ♡

After eating dinner together - and Will refusing to take the apron off after seeing her smile at it for the millionth time, they were snuggled up in her recliner in front of the fireplace.

Pumpkin was fast asleep in his arms, nestled between his legs as he held her to him.

Will had held girls before. But here, studying her curves with his hands as he nuzzled against her, this was different. It was magical in a way that lit his soul on fire, sparkling in his eyes and heating up his hands that pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.

This emotion - feeling her heart beat steadily against his own - this was home.

The fire smoldered, casting the room closer to darkness as the timer on the lights turned them off as well.

Will put his arms under Pumpkin's legs, the other supporting her back, and stood up from the recliner, padding back into her room.

Tucking her in, he kissed her forehead. Before he was able to leave, his hand was squeezed.

"Spooky?" Her voice was quiet and slightly slurred, barely conscious as she squinted in the darkness.

"Hey, Pumpkin."

She looked at him with those irresistible eyes. "...stay?"

Will paused. He hadn't ever considered joining her in her bed. It felt like a threshold he couldn't cross - something beautiful and forbidden. He had always just slept on her couch if he didn't want to go back to Erin's.

But here she was, inviting him in.

He had evidently paused long enough that she noticed, letting go of his hand. "You don't have to if you..."

Before she could finish, he had made it to the other side of the bed and was climbing under the covers. The way she hummed as his chest met her back was sweeter than anything Will had heard. His arms wrapped around her, letting out a long breath as he nuzzled into her neck.

Spooky's eyes glanced at the clock, seeing the soft blue of two o'clock before his eyes closed.

"Merry Christmas, Pumpkin."

"Merry Christmas, Spooky." She mumbled back, and they fell into a comfortable slumber.

♡ ♡ ♡

Christmas morning was slow. Snow had been falling all night, and Spooky had gotten up before Pumpkin. He shoveled the walks and the driveway, but before he could get back and jump into bed with her again, she was padding around the kitchen putting cinnamon rolls in the oven.

Will snuck up behind her and pulled her into his arms, leaning down to kiss her neck to elicit a little squeak from her.

"Merry Christmas to you too." She chuckled.

"Making cinnamon rolls just for me? How sweet."

"No, you silly goose. To take to Erin's. I promised your nephews and niece I'd bring some."

She shivered at his lips on her neck once more.

"Are you going to share later?"

"If you're good."

"Pretty sure I made Santa's nice list this year." He kissed her ear.

"That remains to be seen, love. That remains to be seen."

♡ ♡ ♡

Erin's house was full of excitement. Santa had come for the children, and the moment Spooky and Pumpkin had arrived, they were showing them all of their toys.

"So sorry, I swear they've been on something since the moment they woke up." Erin chuckled, hugging them both as their coats came off.

"It's so good to see you, Erin." Pumpkin hugged her back.

Will took the cinnamon rolls and orange juice through to the kitchen, noting how Erin had pulled Pumpkin aside and was whispering conspiratorially with her. It made Pumpkin's cheek's red, but she was smiling wider than before. What was his sister doing?

Erin's home had always radiated a light of reliable goodness - and this Christmas was no different.

The adults sat on the couches, while the kids played on the floor, excitedly shrieking with joy.

In a moment of diversion, while Pumpkin was talking to one of the boys, Will glanced over at Erin, who wiggled her eyebrows at him.

"What?" Will mouthed.

She looked at Pumpkin and back at him, raising an eyebrow. She pointed at her ring finger in the way an impatient person taps their wrist for the time.

Spooky felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Erin had been pestering him for the last two weeks, over the phone and in person about his plans with Pumpkin for the future.

"I knew I'd marry her the day I met her." Will had responded at one point.

Noticing his pink cheeks, the smirk on Erin's face was now mischievous.

Spooky looked back at her, and with an affectionate eye roll and the smile that he just couldn't keep to himself, he nodded.

♡ ♡ ♡

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series masterlist

#world in color #spooky x pumpkin #spooky and pumpkin #spooky #spooky x reader #william macpherson #Will ‘Spooky’ MacPherson #will macpherson #conspiracy 2008 #conspiracy #val kilmer

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