#dancing in the kitchen by myself while i wait for my cookies to cool.... only person awake in the house....

[dykedragons]

i just made the most delicious ginger molasses cookies

[shinsorokiri]

S/o Loses Memory and Quirk

Kaminari Denki HCs

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions broken bones, a panic attack, panic attack symptoms, sad Denki

A/N: Ngl writing angst for Denki did something to my little heart. He only deserves happiness and I’m mad at myself for giving him sadness lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I’ll be writing one like this for All Might next so keep your eyes peeled for that one!

Shinsou, Aizawa, Hawks, and Dabi

Todoroki, Bakugou, and Kirishima

Kaminari Denki | Chargebolt

You are his partner in crime

You’re the one who is always there to take care of him when he goes dumb

You’re the one who is always there to comfort him when he feels like an idiot

You’re always the one who is there for him

And he’s always the one who is there for you

It’s been that way for years

Ever since you transferred to UA your second year of high school

The two of you became fast friends

Best friends even

And his flirty nature made it so it wasn’t too long before the two of you entered a real relationship

The two of you EXUDE the most chaotic good energy that even Bakugou finds it kind of endearing

But unbeknownst to his friends

Denki can get really fucking serious when it comes to you

It lowkey shocked you the first time you saw him act like that

And it was all because you were sparring with him and you tripped over your own damn foot and face planted 

You figured he’d just point and laugh at you but he ran over and checked you EVERYWHERE to make sure you weren’t hurt

mans even SCOLDED you

YOU WERE SCOLDED BY DENKI KAMINARI

But you lowkey LOVED it because like

Wow

He does like me !!!

Of course that was in your final year at UA

The two of you are now pro-heroes at separate agencies

And boy oh boy does Denki worry about you

He can’t help it

He has seen you run into a wall because you were trying to rely on scent instead of sight “in case you get stuck in a dark room with a villain”

He worries

But he also knows you are strong

And also a hot badass who can take on anyone

Well

Almost anyone

Midoriya could probably kick your ass but that’s just because it’s Midoriya

But in all seriousness

He isn’t even patrolling today

He has the day off actually

And Denki has never baked anything before in his life

But

He knows that there’s been this mysterious villain giving your agency some trouble recently

So he wants to make you some of your favorite cookies

Or at least try to

And then have a lil movie night

He’s a clingy little shit

And he wants to destress you so

He will refuse to let go of you for the rest of the night goddamnit!

So there he is

Taking the semi-burnt but still edible cookies out of the oven

His favorite program on in the background

When suddenly

His show gets interrupted

And the hero scanner the two of you have goes off in your living room

He immediately turns his attention to the television

Stopping in the middle of the kitchen 

Still holding the cookies

When he sees live footage of you falling from a 3 story building

Onto concrete

He drops the pan

And literally sprints out of the door

He doesn’t even have shoes on

But he doesn’t give a single Fuck™

He rushes down the stairs of the apartment building the two of you live in

And gets to his car in record time

Mans be speeding to the hospital he knows you’re gonna be at

You two had a plan in place with each other and your agencies that if anything would happen to either of you

You would both go to this specific hospital so you two could know where the other was at all times

Of course he was crying while speeding

And his heart rate was way too fast for him to be functioning

But he had to get to you

He had to

And he did

He pulled into a parking spot reserved for pro-heroes and ran inside the emergency room

When he asked about you the nurse told him you were currently in surgery for some severe bone breaks

He got a nasty taste in his mouth

But he just nodded

She told him he could wait in the waiting room

And he did

He sat down in a chair

And he was trying so hard to keep it together

So 

SO

Hard

But eventually Kirishima, Mina, Sero, and even Bakugou showed up

To be fair

Mina and you did work at the same agency

So she saw everything that happened

They immediately went over to him

And he looked up at Mina

And deadass this is the first time any of them see how genuinely serious Denki can get

He asks Mina what happened

And she hesitates

But his face is dead serious

There are obviously tears leaking out of his eyes

But his stare is wildly intense

And Mina knows that if she says no he’ll just keep asking or ask someone else at the agency

So she tells him

“Well… we were patrolling, like usual, when that villain that’s been keeping us on our toes showed up. They’ve never… done anything other than rob people and knock them out so we thought hey this should be easy. Especially since (Y/n) was there. When they saw us they ran into a building and we chased after them and when we had them cornered on the roof they did this weird… sneak attack? But not really? I don’t know it was… odd, they had this like patterned fight technique and they hit (Y/n) in a few different places, and she went to use her quirk to fight back but… nothing happened… and then they hit her like at the bottom of her skull and she just… fell down unconscious. And then they… threw her… off…”

She started trailing off at the end because a sob tore through Denki’s throat

And then he started hyperventilating

Luckily Bakugou and Kirishima were there to help him out

They get panic attacks frequently, so they managed to calm him down and get him to breathe again

And they stayed with him for as long as they had to

Eventually after hours 

A doctor came out and approached Denki

“Pro Hero Chargebolt?”

He stands up very fast

He’s informed that you are out of surgery

And that the surgery went well

However they noticed something odd in your MRI results

It seemed that a portion of your brain was damaged?

But not quite 

It was still functioning

But something about it was off

And they had never seen anything like it before

It was like certain parts of your brain were blocked but everything else was fine

Upon hearing this Denki’s heart broke

And then after hearing the part of your brain that was impacted was the part that contained long term memories

His heart shattered

“We’re afraid she may have severe amnesia. We’re going to keep running tests to see just what is going on, we think it’s the quirk of that villain. A lot of the victims of their crimes have blockages in their muscle groups, but we’ve never seen a blockage in the brain from them.”

Denki is quiet

He literally doesn’t say anything

Until he whispers

“Can i see her?”

The doctor nods

And he leads him to your room

You’re still asleep 

And you’re covered in bandages and casts

It breaks his heart

His friends texted him to tell him they went home but if he needs them at any minute that they will be on their way to the hospital in ten seconds flat

He appreciates it

But right now he really just wanted to be alone with you

He just sat next to you

Holding your hand

He was even moving your pointer finger to trace the Lichtenberg Figures trailing up and down his arms

You always do it when the two of you are cuddling at night 

It helps him sleep

And reminds him that you love him regardless of his faults

And right now he just

He really needs you

This goes on for an hour before he feels you start to move

And he freezes

“(Y/n?”

You open your eyes

And squint at him

“Uh… h-hi… aren’t you that guy in my new class…?”

He stares at you

Completely deadpan

Before laughing a bit

But it isn’t a happy laugh

It’s very much a sad laugh

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Cool, but um… how did you know my name already?… Are you crying?”

Yes

He was

He was laughing and crying at the same time

He probably looked like he was losing his mind

But he really did just lose his whole world so

It’s a prompted reaction

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

His voice was more strained this time

“Are you… are you okay?”

“Yeah, but you’re not. And I didn’t save you, and now you don’t know who I am, and I’m just… I’m so sorry, babe. I’m so sorry.”

The laughing stopped

Now he’s just sobbing

In your mind

You’d seen him a few times while touring the school

And he was always laughing and smiling

Always

So this was shocking

And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t tug on your heart strings

You instinctively reach out to grab his hand

And he grips onto it so tight

Almost like he’s afraid of letting go

“…You called me babe?”

He tries to even his breathing

But he nods

“I don’t… I don’t even know you, I-”

“You do. You do, but… you don’t. It’s… it’s complicated and I’m a literal dumbass so… I’ll call a doctor. They’ll explain.”

And that he does

And the doctor does in fact explain

And after the doctor leaves

You ask him to tell you about your relationship

And he does

He tells you even the smallest details

From the time that you painted the nail on his right hand middle finger pink because he lost a bet and he ended up liking it and buying nail polish for himself

To the time that you two told everyone you break danced all night to break in your new apartment when in reality he turned on Lover by Taylor Swift and the two of you slow danced in your living room

All of it

And he even managed to slip in the fact that you’d remember all of this after he caught the villain who did this to you

And he will catch them.

[dubersbutt]

I have a couple ideas for the poly fic

1. Telling them you love them like when you first told Leon or whatever?

2. Stealing their clothes?

3. Them taking care of a hurt you?

Words: 1.4K

Warnings: none - all fluff

1) Telling Leon you love him

One of the first things Leon learns in your relationship is that you have really bad periods. He feels his heart ache every time he sees you curled up in bed or on the couch. Especially when you manage to lift your head long enough to ask for water and he can see the trails of tears on your cheeks. He and Connor have done extensive research into alleviating period cramps, but nothing seems you help you.

They keep a heat pad plugged in behind the bed so you can roll over and grab it during the night, but in the day you usually prefer to have one of them lay on your stomach - kinda like a weighted blanket.

Leon's sitting with you in his lap on the couch, your legs are wrapped around his waist tightly. He can feel your breath against his neck as he runs his hand over your back.

"You okay?" he asks after you haven't moved a muscle in about 10 minutes.

"Sometimes I manage to orient myself and my uterus calms down," you say, voice soft, "I'm afraid if I move I'll anger her."

He kisses the top of your head, settling deeper into the couch as he realizes he'll be there for a while.

"I'm sorry," you say, "If you want me to get up I will."

"Don't apologize," he says, "I'll stay here as long as you need me."

He meant it. He'd be your cuddle post as long as you wanted him to be there. Plus, if you were sleeping on him then Connor would have to be the one who has to go grocery shopping in -30º.

"I love you," he almost doesn't hear it, how softly you whisper the words, "And I'm not just saying this because I'm emotional. I-i've been wanting to say it for a while."

Leon's not a super emotional person, but he legit feels like crying.

"I love you to," he responds, "And I'm not just saying that cause you look like you're on your deathbed."

You laugh, lightly swatting him on the shoulder.

"Can you tell Connor to pick up cookie dough on his way home."

~~~

Connor has much less finesse.

Leon's watching him dance behind the wheel to some godawful country song you don't let him play when you're in the car. They're high off a BOA win, but they're both positively exhausted.

"I love you," Leon says once the song ends.

He laughs when Connor's eyes go wide as he processes what was just said. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as the panic takes over his face.

(If Leon hadn't known Connor so well he would've been scared he fucked everything up. You had even warned Leon in advance that Connor would probably be....extremely awkward at best. Connor had told you he loved you first, but not verbally. He bought a cake from the grocery store and a little tube of icing that he used to write 'I love you'. He didn't even tell you what he had done, just let you find the cake in the fridge after dinner.)

Connor clears his throat, "Cool."

"Cool?" Leon repeats, amused, "I just said I love you and that's all I get."

Connor coughs again, "Yup."

"Okay," Leon says, but rests his head against the car seat and closing his eyes.

A few moments later, Connor grabs Leon's hand and holds it on the gear shift.

"I-uh," Connor starts.

"You don't have to say it back," Leon says, rubbing his thumb over his hand, "I just want you to know."

"No-uh," he starts, "It's not that. It's-you know - I, uh. Feelings make me uncomfortable."

"Really?" Leon says sarcastically, "I never would have guessed."

The car ride is silent the rest of the way home, but not uncomfortable. Only Connor's atrocious country playlist keeping Leon from passing out.

When they finally pull into the garage, Connor shuts off the engine and closes the garage door before looking at Leon.

"I- uh, love you too," he stutters out, "I just- feelings make me feel icky."

2) Stealing clothes

"(Y/N)!," you hear Connor yell from the top of the stairs.

"Yes, Con," you yell back

"Where is my black OVO hoodie?"

"I don't know, babe," you respond, still yelling and knowing full well you're wearing the exact hoodie he's asking for.

"It's not in my closet but I did my laundry last night," his voice is quieter now as he turns the corner of the kitchen where you and Leon are eating sandwiches.

"You did your laundry?" Leon asks between mouthfuls.

"Leon did my laundry," Connor clarifies with a roll of his eyes, "Thank you, Leo, I love you, Leo. You're the best boyfriend in the world, Leo."

"I know I am."

"Then why are you asking me?" you say, waiting to see if he'll notice what you're wearing. Connor was oblivious to both the massive hoodie that drapes your frame, and also Leon's smirk as he realizes what you're doing.

"You take my stuff all the time," he says, stealing a bite of Leon's sandwich.

"Not this time, Con," you reply, trying not to laugh.

"It was there last night, and poof it's gone," Connor's face wrinkles in thought, "I don't think I wore it last night."

"I'm fairly certain you were naked most of last night," Leon pipes up.

Connor turns a deep shade of red, "Shut up."

"Aw," you say, stretching on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, "I love that you get embarrassed talking about sex with the two people you have sex with."

"You're not funny," he says, trying to steal another bite of Leon's sandwich.

"Get your own," Leon exclaims, pulling away.

"I'm not that hun-" he stops short, narrowing his eyes at you.

"You turd!" he says pointing at his hoodie, "You're wearing my hoodie."

"Turd?" you exclaim, unable to control your laughter, "What are you 13?"

"You stole my hoodie and then didn't tell me you we wearing it," he says, exasperated, "That is prime turd behaviour."

"I want it back."

"Yeah," you ask, arching an eyebrow, "Come take it from me."

3) You being hurt

"I can't believe you broke your ankle tripping over Bowie," Leon says, shaking his head as he fluffs the pillow that's elevating your leg.

"First of all, it's a fracture," you say, "Second of all, your dog has no manners. He walked in front of me when I was bringing in the big delivery box -which you ordered ,we don't need patio furniture, it's winter Leon - and I didn't want to step on him."

"Don't blame my son," Leon says, indignant, "And the furniture was on sale."

"You make 8 million dollars!" you exclaim, "You can pay full price for some chairs."

~~~

"Connor," you call, using your pleasing voice, "Can you pretty please make me an iced coffee."

"Sure," he says, getting up from his spot beside you.

"Connor, no," Leon says, "She needs to start moving around, doctor said."

You pout at Connor, "But it always tastes so much better when you make it."

You're not even lying, for whatever reason Connor's always tasted so good even though he didn't do anything differently.

"Connor," Leon says, voice commanding, "you're coddling her."

"It's an iced coffee, that's hardly enough exercise to strengthen her ankle," Connor replies, pulling out your favourite Starbucks cup from the cupboard.

5 minutes later you wink at Leon as you take a sip of your perfect iced coffee.

~~~

"You have the audacity to say I'm coddling her," Connor exclaims in disbelief, "I made her an iced coffee. Look at you!"

So you had asked Leon to carry you from your office to the bedroom, but you probably would've done it even if you weren't injured.

"We have a lot of stairs. She said her foot was hurting," Leon shrugs, continuing his trek to the room, puppies trailing along behind him.

"Don't be jealous, Con," you call from over the railing, "Leo will carry you up the stairs too, if you ask nicely enough."

Connor just shakes his head, following you up the stairs. Leon lets you down on the soft carpet of your room and you hobble your way to the closet, ready to change into pyjamas. When you return to the master, Connor and Leon are already snuggled in the bed. You make your way to the bed as fast as you can.

"You little liar!" Leon exclaims, "You told me your foot hurt too much to walk up the stairs."

You shrug, taking your spot in the middle of the bed, "I stretched the truth so my strong, hot boyfriend would carry me. Sue me."

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Christmas Cookies

Genre: Fan Fiction (Sand Castle) Pairing: N/A Warnings: It’s so fluffy! Pure Absolute Christmas Fluff! Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: I just wrote multiple pages of Sy being an absolute marshamallow, with his nieces and nephews. It’s as sweet as Maple Syrup! Enjoy. 

Henry Cavill Master List

“You're sure that it's okay if the kids come over?” The concern for her brother didn't go unnoticed, the blue eyes they shared were locked on his face as if she didn't believe him, when he had given the green light.

He looked ridiculous in the white and red ugly Christmas sweater. The knit garment depicting Santa on a beach. Leave it to Sy. Aimee had lost it laughing a few weeks ago, when her brother had called to tell her that he'd got ugly Christmas sweaters for his nieces and nephews, too.

A smirk curled his lips under the thick beard that had been growing on his face for the last ten or twelve years. Running a hand over his grown out hair, her little brother laughed. “Yes, Aim. I am sure. I wouldn't have told them to come, if I didn't want them here. Go on, we're fine. I am sure Mike will appreciate the night off.”

Early this morning, Sy had been woke to his phone ringing on the night stand beside his head. Stupidly loud, the phone screamed at him, begging him to answer. After the fourth ring, it was clear that the person on the other end was not giving in. Despite the headache and heartache from hell, he reached over and answered.

On the other end, his youngest niece greeted her hung over Uncle. “Uncle Sy, I want to come stay with you tonight. Mommy said that I can't invite myself over, but I want to see you. Please say yes.”

“Morning Wispy,” Sy muttered sitting up, rubbing his hand over his face. “Uncle Sy is a bit hazy this morning, I'm gonna need ya to repeat that. Slowly.” He shook his head and chuckled at his niece.

Repeating her request, Willow waited for her uncle to give her the all clear. She was his favourite person, after all, he would never tell her no.

“Sure can bub. Let me talk to your ma, please. And Wispy, I love ya bug.”

Taking the phone from her over excited daughter, Aimee greeted her brother. Her first round of questions assaulting the youngest Syverson.

“Four kids, are you really sure?” Aimee raised her brow looking at her brother. “I can't believe we let Willow talk you into this. I had no idea she was calling you until she came in with the phone. Apparently she and Harley had planned this yesterday.”

“Whatever. I'm cool with it. I didn't have much to do anyway. Probably spend another night down at The Hole.” Sy shrugged. His favourite dive bar had become his temporary home, since his girlfriend of five years had decided she wanted more than a cranky Army vet to share her life with.

Willow had heard her parents discussing Sy's break up, when she coerced her cousin Harley into the plan for a weekend with their uncle. Uncle Sy was her favourite person in the whole wide world, they even shared a birthday, and Uncle Sy was the most fun! He would often let Willow paint his nails and decorate his beard. Why wouldn't that silly woman want him? Willow had grumbled about her “Aunty Nina” being a bit meany who probably ate boogers for breakfast.

“If you think you are okay with this, fine.” Aimee laughed peeking around her brother into his house to see her two children, plus niece and nephew running around his kitchen like four wild beasts. “But if you need help...”

“I will call in the Army.” Sy's laugh rumbled. “I'm kidding. If we need you, then we will call.” He leaned in giving her a kiss on the cheek, straightening up he called to the kids. “Come say good bye to your ma and aunt.”

Children thundered to the door, rushing Aimee and Sy. Hugs and “I love yous” exchanged as Aimee gave her brother one last out for the weekend. Raising his hand to wave her off, Sy wore the biggest, goofiest smile. She'd behaved like he had never had all four children on his own before. Hell during his Army days he had been responsible for a lot more bodies than four. All had made it home, too. Most on their own accord, but he wasn't going to relive those memories right now. Those were the sort of things he thought about when he was alone in the dark. This weekend was going to be anything but dark.

With only a short span of time to plan, Sy did his best to get a few activities together for the children of various ages. Ben, 12; Annie, 10; Harley 7; and Willow, 6.

Ben had likely only agreed to his sister's impromptu weekend because it was better than staying home with his parents. Besides, he loved hanging out with his Uncle, even if it meant three other children tagging along.

“Okay, listen up.” Sy clapped his hands together, grabbing attention. He bent to gently scratch behind the ears of his beloved shepherd. “You know where your bedrooms are, go take your stuff up. Then meet me back here for our first item on the list.”

Lagging behind her brother and cousins, Willow bounced over to Sy hugging her arms around him as tightly as she could. “Do I have to share a bed with Annie? She kicks me.”

“She kicks you?” Sy stooped to scoop her up in his arms. Her dark curls tied back in pig tails, gently he tugged at the end of one. “Well then good thing I got them pillows you asked for.”

“The really big ones? With the pink sparkle unicorns.” Willow's eyes went wide as she gasped. Sy nodded and laughed. Vibrating with excitement she hugged her uncle's neck tight kissing his cheek. “I want to make a fort in the bed and then Annie has to stay on her side. But it's okay, because we can still share the blanket and my night light.”

“Is that so? Well, you best go tell her that. The others will be back down before you get up there, hurry up.” Sy let her down. “If you need some help, ask Annie. Okay, Wispy?”

“Okay.” She shouted, little legs carrying her to the stairs. Thumping and running through the house, Sy smiled and went to the kitchen to begin planning phase one of their weekend.

With Christmas right around the corner, he had broke down and dug out a few early Christmas Eve gifts. Since it was Syverson tradition to spend Christmas Eve with his momma and daddy, decorating and what not, he was in charge of supplying the kids with gingerbread houses and cookies to decorate. Momma would forgive him, if he told her that the houses were done early this year. If she was adamant about it, he could buy a few more for Christmas.

Pulling out the kits, Sy laughed when Ben trudged into the kitchen. Clearly the kids had gotten the message when they found sweaters laid out on the beds. In a blue and green sweater with penguins at a disco on the front, the twelve year old rolled his eyes before laughing.

“It suits ya.” Sy laughed.

“Sometimes I wonder if you love us or secretly hate us.” Ben laughed along with his uncle. Laughing harder when Harley strode in wearing his green and red sweater, two reindeer on the front throwing snowballs.

“I think you secretly love it.” Sy nudged Harley with his elbow. “Should have gone bigger, huh?”

Harley nodded, the arms of his sweater a little too short. “Do I have to wear it long?”

“Nah,” Shaking his head, Sy pointed to the gingerbread house kits. “Long enough to get a photo for Nana and your momma.”

Giggling, Annie and Willow rushed into the kitchen. Purple and pink ugly sweaters worn with pride. Annie stood straight to show her uncle how well the new shirt fit. Purple decorated with dancing snowmen in a ballerina scene, a nod to Annie's love for dancing. And of course Willow, in her pink sweater with cats in Santa hats with red and green mittens.

“I love it, uncle Sy!” Willow exclaimed jumping up and down. “We look very pretty.”

“We look something.” Her big brother snickered.

“Are those gingerbread houses?” Annie eyed the items on the counter suspiciously. Sy nodded and grinned. “Nana is going to be mad at youuuuuu.” She sang out.

“Well this year, Nana is fine with us decorating early. We can get more for Christmas Eve.”

“We better!” Harley exclaimed wide eyed. “Santa will be upset. He always gets a gingerbread house and he eats it all!”

The tradition of leaving a whole house for Santa had began when Sy was a little boy. Perhaps even before, Aimee and Will had left houses surely before he was born. Over the years Santa had devoured a lot of houses at the Syverson's. He'd even had a few to eat while Sy was over in the desert, serving his country. His momma, without fail, had managed to get him a kit or two. Sy would set them up and let the other soldiers have their fill before sending photos to the kids back home to tell them Santa had came by.

“You know that Santa isn't...” “Going to be upset, because he will still get Nana's homemade cookies.” Ben cut in glaring at Annie.  This was her first year on the “Santa isn't real wagon”, but Ben wasn't going to let her ruin that for Harley and Willow.

Nodding and giving Ben a subtle thumbs up, Sy picked up to defuse the tension. “Right, he's still going to get lots of treats. And I don't know that I'd want a boring store made gingerbread, if I could have my momma's homemade shortbread and peanut butter blossoms.” He clicked his teeth together and made a show of rubbing his hand across his stomach.

“Uncle Sy, do you think Santa ever takes cookies home for the elves and Mrs. Claus?” Harley stared up at his uncle, his face scrunched at the thought.

“Sure does, bud. I bet he takes one cookie from every house home to share.” Sy winked at his youngest nephew.

Pulling out the hard as rock cookie house pieces, Sy instructed Ben to get the candies from the counter that he'd set out for the purpose of making these a grand master piece. Even The Grinch would appreciate the work that went into a Syverson House.

“So, what's everyone been up to? I feel like I've hardly seen y'all lately.”

If he asked the kids to talk about themselves, it meant that Sy would have to talk less. He loved hearing what the kids had to say. They chattered and laughed, Annie and Harley bickered a little over who got to put the door on the first house. A squabble ended when Sy reached in, putting the pretzel door on the house himself.

Lost in their good cheer, Christmas songs, and general chaos of four children with limited rules – for the time being – Sy sighed and began to relax. Something he hadn't done since Nina had decided to pack up her things and leave him nearly two weeks ago.

Whatever. Five years wasted. If she had known that she didn't want to be with him, then why had she stayed? His brother had a few ideas about that, stating that it was the perfect opportunity for any gold digging – Sy wouldn't even repeat the word to himself. Living in a house that was paid off. A car that was hers. Never having to pay bills, it all allowed her to work and save while she decided one day she'd had enough and wanted something better.

Better. More money.

Well, whoever took her next, Sy wished them luck. He hated that he was so broken about this. But he'd loved her. Maybe. He had his doubts these last few nights, as he sat thinking over a pint or eight at the bar.

“Uncle Sy,” Willow's soft voice broke his thoughts. Glancing down at his niece, he smiled. “When we finish, can we make cookies?”

“What if we make some cookies tomorrow, Wispy?” Wiping his hands on a tea towel, Sy bent to scoop her into his arms. “We can make some sugar cookies to decorate. I also thought I could make ya some snow crackles that you love so much.” he nudged cheek her with his nose.

“The gooey chocolate ones?” Her eyes were wide. Sy nodded. “Benny!” She turned, calling excitedly to her brother who was less than four feet away. “Uncle Sy is going to make us those crack cookies!”

“Crackle.” Sy gently corrected her with a deep laugh.

Sy's snow crackles were always a welcomed hit. Family, friends, even the post man loved the damn things. Hell if he'd had those over in the desert to hand out, the war could have been over in an hour. Or so a few of his superiors had always teased him.

“Can we make them with the candy cane?” Harley asked wiggling in his seat.

“Absolutely!” Sy agreed with a wide smile. A touch of peppermint in the cookies were the perfect Christmas treat. Even better when enjoyed with a nice cup of rum and homemade egg nog. Although he would save that for the adult parties.

“I love Christmas!” A giggling Annie exclaimed, not going unnoticed that she and Ben were enjoying the left over icing for the houses. A tube each, the two older kids were trying to be stealthy about their activities. Nice try Sy thought, they knew nothing got by their Uncle.

“My favourite holiday is my birthday.” Willow declared.

“That's not a holiday.” Ben laughed at his sister, shaking his head.

“Yes it is! It's a holiday, because it celebrates me and Uncle Sy. Right, Uncle Sy? It's a holiday?” Willow pouted at her uncle, hoping for some back up. If Uncle Sy said it was, then it was true.

“I think birthdays are kind of like holidays. We just don't get time off work or school.”

“See!” Willow stuck her tongue out at her brother Ignoring his sister, Ben had already moved on to something else.

“Okay you two, enough.” Sy let Willow down. “Let's get this mess cleaned and we can get some plans for dinner going.”

“Can we have ice cream?” Doing her best puppy dog eyes, Annie looked at her uncle.

“After we eat dinner.” Sy smiled kissing the top of her head.

“Candy cane ice cream?” Harley was hopeful. Sy had never met a kid, or anybody, who loved candy canes as much as his nephew.

“I have some candy cane. I also have chocolate and pecan. Something for everyone.”

“And grape nut for you?” Wrinkling her nose, Willow shivered in disgust. Ice cream was one of the only things she didn't agree with her Uncle on.

“Yes, grape nut for me.”

“You're such an old man.” Ben added gently tossing a candy piece at his uncle's head. Nailing Sy in the side of the cheek, Ben laughed and threw up his hands in victory.

“Oh is that how you want this?” Sy picked up a few candies, launching them back at his nephew. Nailing Ben with four our of five, Sy straightened himself up. “Still got it.”

Gingerbread construction cleaned, photos taken, Sy announced that the children were free of their ugly sweaters. Rushing upstairs to change, shouts and laughter filled the house. Sy, comfortable in his sweater, worked out the decision for dinner. Ordering pizza seemed like the clear winner and nobody would complain.

Four pizzas later, enough variety that everybody had something they liked, Sy announced it was time to settle for a bit and watch some movies. Who could resist? Pizza, as promised ice cream, and various snacks that he always had on hand for the kids. It was the perfect way to spend an evening getting over a break up.

Sprawled out around the den, the kids got comfortable. Blankets and cushions all over. Sy resting on the leather sectional, Willow curled up on his lap – of course. A bowl of candy between them and Harley, who laid stretched out. Annie and Ben occupied a bean bag each, blankets pulled up around them while the decided upon “Miracle on 34th Street” played on the screen.

Dozing on and off, Sy didn't know when it had happened, but at some point the movie had come to an end the dvd menu replaying over and over. A soft whine of his beloved shepherd is what roused him this morning. Scratching his nose and sitting up, Sy scrambled to grab Willow before she slid off of his knee. Around him the kids were asleep, the house quiet and his watch informing him it was nearly dawn.

Gently sliding Willow into his spot on the couch, Sy stood and raised his arms, joints popping and his body waking. Tiptoeing out of the den and to the kitchen, Sy opened the back door letting the dog out. Rubbing his eyes, he watched the dog zoom around, before debating coffee or going back to bed. The kids would sleep another hour or two at least, which would be nice to sleep as well. Coffee won, brewing a fresh pot Sy looked around the kitchen.

His house still, the presence of the kids not going unnoticed, it felt nice to have someone else in the house. The bodies moving and bringing merriment. A kick to the gut, really. Nina having told him that part of her leaving was because she wanted children and he didn't. He loved his nieces and nephews, but full time parenting wasn't a project he was cut out for. Sy sniffled, fuck it. Shaking his head, he grumbled under his breath. She and her notions were gone now.

Opening the back door, he let the dog in. Giving a morning scratch and cooing to his faithful friend. Coffee filled the house with a delicious aroma, Sy poured his first cup and sat at the table watching the backyard. Once this coffee was gone he would get to work on his crackle cookies, they would need to freeze before baking. Tiny, nearly silent foot steps caught his attention. Willow hummed softly as she walked, her momma always told her that it wasn't polite to sneak up on people. Especially Uncle Sy. No matter how much he loved her, sneaking up could scare him and Willow didn't want that.

Sy hated the thoughts of his family feeling like they may not be safe in his presence. But he appreciated her attempt to let him know she was awake and moving around.

“Morning Wispy.” Sy's voice was steady and quiet. Willow giggled lightly. She loved that he knew it was her, without having to look. “Come here.” Sy held out an arm. Willow rushed her last few steps. “Have a good sleep?”

“Uh huh,” she rubbed her eyes and nodded. “Morning, Uncle Sy. Did you sleep good?”

“I did,” he nodded taking a sip of his coffee and pushing out his chair. “Have a seat, Miss Henning.”

Climbing into the kitchen chair, Willow sat quietly.

“Hot chocolate?”

“Yes, please.” Willow yawned and nodded. “But no coffee, it's yuck and daddy says I'm too little.”

“Your daddy has the right idea,” Sy smiled fondly, pulling out the cocoa mix and Willow's favourite mug. A big mug with a photo of her and Sy's old dog Aika.

“Uncle Sy, are you happy that I came over and brought my brother, Harley, and Anna?”

“Of course, Wispy.”

“Good, because I think you were sad but I didn't want you to be sad. I told my momma that we would make you happy if we came over. I think I was right.” she beamed through tired eyes.

“Wspy, bug, nothing could ever make me happier than you kids.” Scooping the cocoa into the mug, pouring cold milk until the was half full to save it from getting too hot.

“Not even if you had your own kids? Do you think you'll get married and have kids? Momma said...”

“Wispy,” Sy held up a hand to stop the unintentional prying. It was too early. “I will always love you. You're my best gal, yeah? All you need to know, bug, is that I will love you forever.”

“Do you love me more than Christmas cookies?”

“Well,” pausing for effect, Sy took a beat to pretend he was thinking, “I do love Christmas cookies. But yeah, I suppose I love you more than Christmas cookies, even.”

“Good, because I love you more than Christmas cookies, birthday cake, anddd Nana's biscuits.” the little girl wiggled in her seat, giggling.

“More than Nana's biscuits? Oh boy, that is some loving.” Stirring the hot cocoa, Sy lifted the mug and placed it on the table in front of his niece. A can of whipped cream in hand, he shook it before adding more than required to the top of her mug. Sitting down, he glanced at his coffee and shrugged, the hiss of the can when he added a dollop to his coffee. “Cheers,”

“Cheers!” Willow slid her mug a few centimeters to clink it against Sy's.

[svtskneecaps]

Number 17

Vernon Chwe x (gender netural) reader

Words: 5048

Genre: fluff, some pining (does pining count as angst?)

neighbor! childhood friend! aus

you’re feeling the summer listlessness. vernon helps you find something to do

day 35 of a tct summer collab

(holy shit guys i’ve been excited to post this since like, MAY holy shit i hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it)

(my masterlist)

You shot him a text. Very simple.

vernon i’m going crazy

He shot a text back. Very simple.

why

why do you think? you ask. i don’t know what to do

it’s summer, he says, you can do anything. for example, i’m lying in bed enjoying myself

it’s 1 pm

it’s summer

Who are you to argue with that?

i’m still going crazy. you might be able to stay in bed all day but i’m gonna go insane

so find something to do

i can’t, you say, because it’s true.

all year you were listing hundreds of things you would do when you got the time

i know, you say, i know. but it’s like, now i have the time, but i just feel paralyzed. i don’t know what to do

And you wait for a response and none comes for long enough that you worry you said something that was too weird even for him, but then your screen goes dark and your phone buzzes and his contact is on screen. You answer and his messy bedhead fills your screen.

“You want me to decide?” he asks, and his voice is rough like he just woke up.

“Sure,” you say.

“Try baking something,” he says. “Like chocolate chip cookies or a pie or something.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to eat it.”

“Absolutely,” he mumbles, face still half buried in his pillow. “I can grab a quick shower and come over just in time for the taste test.”

You snicker. “No way, you don’t have the palette for a taste test.”

“Alright, then I’ll put them in the oven and we’ll hit up a couple friends and force them to try it.”

And. . . honestly that doesn’t sound half bad. It’s been five days since you saw anyone outside your immediate family--which is suffocating in its loneliness, after the routine closeness of the year--and maybe that’ll make you feel less paralyzed.

“Okay,” you say.

True to his word, Vernon’s over within thirty minutes, leaning his bike up against yours in the garage. He handles the oven for you, although not without teasing you about the time you burned yourself on the top of the oven while taking out your grandma’s angel food cake at Christmas.

“Well at least I helped you remember how coordinates work,” you say, because you both knew that was the reason you two learned whether to move on the x or y axis so much faster than your classmates.

“At least I know how to keep my skin intact,” he shoots back.

While taking the tray out of the oven he very nearly blisters his thumb and drops the tray; after securing the tray’s safety and running cold water over the blister, once your heartbeat returns to something acceptable, you inform him that instead of cookies he’ll be eating his words, to which he responds with, “At least my words taste good,” and you snap him with the towel. He flicks water at you, and only the fear of having even more to clean up keeps you from starting all out war. You tell him to bring his swimsuit over tomorrow, though. There’s mischief in his eyes as he agrees.

You each balance a tupperware of cooled cookies on your handlebars as you coast through the neighborhood, knocking on doors and handing them out to friends and friends’ parents. Minghao takes three. Seungkwan’s mother trades you two bottles of water, fresh from the fridge, for a cookie and first dibs on the next batch. She takes another one and says it’s to give to Seungkwan when he gets home from acting camp, but winks when she says it. You snap Seungkwan the picture of his mom with the cookie, and he snaps back a picture of himself and Jun making dorky faces demanding you save a few for them because make no mistake we will be swinging by your house when we’re done for the day and we expect cookies you two!

Jeonghan and Joshua aren’t home, but you find them all hanging out in Seungcheol’s pool. Jeonghan asks why you aren’t selling your cookies. “Because this is the taste test,” Vernon says. “We’ll be getting you hooked on this batch and then start charging ten bucks on the next round.” Jeonghan praises your business sense and takes a bite out of Seungcheol’s cookie while he isn’t looking. Seungcheol tackles him into the pool and you leave before the ensuing splash fight can get the cookies wet.

True to their word, Jun pulls into the driveway with Seungkwan in the passenger’s seat and Mingyu in the backseat (they must’ve agreed to carpool with Mingyu after his cooking workshop), and you get nervous because Mingyu’s going to college for baking and everyone knows that out of the group Mingyu is the best cook, but Vernon presents him with a cookie no hesitation and Mingyu tells you they’re amazing, and Vernon gives you this smile as if to say, see, nothing to worry about.

Wednesday, Vernon comes over with his swimsuit and you make a pair of rudimentary signs for a car wash out of an old cardboard box. His is very simple, bubble letters with the address and CAR WASH in all caps. You tried to get a little creative with yours.

“I love it,” Vernon says, crouched next to you as you hover over your sign. “You can almost hear the cloud cow saying ‘graphic design is my passion’.”

You push his shoulder hard enough that he topples over, laughing. “It’s supposed to be a soapy car!”

He’s so proud of himself for that joke that he suggests you start a car wash company instead of going to college. “You can call it Clean Mooters,” he says, as you’re filling your buckets.

You blast him with the hose and he laughs so hard he snorts.

You spend the day covered in soap and water, spraying Vernon with the hose if there isn’t a car to wash and shrieking and trying to dance around behind him every time he gets the hose from you. When the cars stop coming you pack up shop, uprooting the signs and taking them inside, tossing them in the recycling bin.

Thursday it’s raining outside. Vernon comes over anyway. You call him an idiot. “Don’t you know the rain’ll rust your bike?”

He shrugs with a half smile, shrugging off a raincoat that now has a strip of mud up the back where his tires kicked up the dirty street water. “There’s only a hundred and four days of summer vacation,” he says. “I didn’t want to miss one.”

You seize his coat and toss it in the sink, bowing your head to scrub off the mud so he doesn’t see how red your cheeks have become.

You play Mario Kart on the Wii for most of the day (Vernon hits you with a red shell right before you cross the finish line; you hip check him off Rainbow Road), and even as out of practice as the both of you have become over the school year, you’re still pretty well matched. By the time you get bored with that, your mom has texted to say she’s going to need to stay at work a little longer and you might be on your own for dinner. That’s fine, you and Vernon try out a recipe for lasagna that you found on a food blog (buried under the woman’s lengthy story of the time her husband nearly got stomped by a cow. “It’s a sign,” Vernon says, “Clean Mooters is your true calling.” You’d hit him if you weren’t very carefully adding a layer of sauce).

It’s still raining when Vernon has to leave. You stand there, just outside the cover of the garage, watching Vernon shrug on his raincoat.

“You’re gonna get soaked,” he says.

“You say that like I care,” you say, rain beginning to drip down your hair.

He steps out of the garage then, too, standing next to you. You turn your face to the sky, closing your eyes against the heavy drops that splatter against your cheeks.

“You’re gonna catch your death.”

“Says the guy who’s wearing a raincoat with the hood down.” You shove his chest without looking. He catches your hands. You look down.

Your eyes meet.

Vernon drops your hands and coughs. You reach up to brush the water from your forehead, gaze on the ground as your face burns, despite the cool rainwater still sliding down your cheeks.

“I, um, I should go,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say. “See you.”

He hops on his bike and rides away. The rain falls so hard you lose sight of him before he rounds the corner.

Saturday the whole team gets together at Jeonghan’s house, because he has a firepit. Seungkwan is standing on the picnic table when you ride up, in the middle of a dramatic retelling of some odd thing that happened at acting camp. He appears to be fencing Vernon with an imaginary sword, and you can only imagine the context of that story. You don’t announce yourself, for fear of making one of them fall off, and help Wonwoo get the food from the kitchen. Mingyu is already getting set up at the grill (despite being one of the youngest, he’s the only one any parent trusts near the grill; previous block barbeques have ended in disaster that no one’s eager to repeat). Minghao is by the firepit, holding the lighter very tightly, either to keep it away from Soonyoung or to ensure he’s the one to start the fire.

Seungkwan jumps down from the table when Jihoon tells him to, although he continues telling his story in an enthusiastic yell. Vernon meets your eyes and grins, flicking his eyes at Seungkwan like you’re sharing an inside joke like normal, and you can almost forget that moment in the rain ever happened.

Nearby, Jeonghan is filling a plastic baby pool with water. You ask him what it’s for but he just grins and tells you it’s a secret. When it comes to Jeonghan that’s usually cause for concern, but also you’re itchy inside your skin and all you did Friday was pick out a couple songs on the old piano your great grandmother left your family and no matter what the adventure you’re down for it, so you leave him to it. It’s the first bonfire of the summer. You can handle anything.

They get the fire started before Mingyu finishes grilling, the smell of the meat wafting over the yard and making your stomach rumble. Unfortunately, they misjudged the wind direction and half of the chairs are directly in the path of the smoke. There’s a lot of complaining as people rush to shift their chairs out of the way. Vernon ends up next to you in the scramble. You aren’t complaining; now you get to tease him about the way he seasons his food and he’ll tease you back about your tendency to drown your burgers in ketchup.

(except you don’t; you eat quietly and neither of you bring up the other’s habits and somewhere deep down that scares you)

When the sun goes down, Jeonghan and Joshua bring out the alcohol, and everyone who’s old enough drinks.

The baby pool, Jeonghan says, is for the losers of the tournament. The tournament, he says, is simple. And for pairs.

The first challenge is a wheelbarrow race down the street. You thought you and Vernon had a pretty good chance of winning, but then, by some divine magic, Jihoon and Mingyu shoot off and cross the finish line miles before everyone else. Half the group calls bologna because come on they’ve got just about the biggest height difference between them, out of everyone, but Joshua was reffing the starting line and didn’t see any false starts; they won fair and square.

The second challenge is hula hooping. You don’t have much hope for your score, not because you’re bad at hula hooping, but because you’re bad at hula hooping when Vernon is right next to you and also hula hooping. You end up laughing so hard that you lose your hoop within three spins, but in the end it doesn’t matter, because Vernon can carry the team score to victory.

“Who needs eight years of gymnastics?” he asks, and you beam.

The third challenge is a ‘who knows their partner the best’ challenge. Jeonghan put together a list of questions, which he and Joshua list off and give time for each partner to write down both their answer and what they think their partner put. You’re a little scared; you’ve known Vernon for as long as you can remember but sometimes you wonder if you really know him like you think you do. The questions aren’t so bad, simply asking what your partner’s favorite clothing brand is, or what time they get up in the morning, or what they think of pineapple on pizza. You breeze through the questions, until the last one. Joshua lists the final question, which member of the group is their favorite?

Your answer is simple enough, but you aren’t sure of his. Sure, you partnered up, but Seungkwan had all but thrown himself directly at Wonwoo when Jeonghan sent you off to partner and you knew Vernon and Seungkwan had known each other long before you had talked to anyone in the neighborhood or gone to a barbeque or slotted yourself into the dynamic of the block, and you knew he and Joshua had a special sort of friendship because of their similar heritage and you just didn’t know for sure what he would put (especially after the strange moment in the rain; you weren’t sure what it meant and you weren’t sure you wanted to know).

Eventually you write Seungkwan’s name on the sheet and hand the paper to Jeonghan when he comes around to collect. You fidget with your fingers as they tally up the scores. Next to you, Seokmin hops up to either get into a passionate debate with Soonyoung over what his true favorite movie is or to maybe just tackle Soonyoung into the grass. Either way, Vernon slides into his empty chair.

“So what’d you put for number seven?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he means. “Clean Mooters,” you say.

He pumps his fist. “I knew you’d see the light eventually!”

“Well I did get the most tips,” you tease.

“Well of course,” he says, “you’re the best looking, it’s only natural.”

Jeonghan calls out that they’ve tallied up the scores before you can process the full implications of that sentence.

You win that round too. Joshua hands the sheets back, and you carefully fold yours and shove it in your pocket.

You play a few more rounds: the chubby bunny challenge (Mingyu crammed an ungodly amount of marshmallows in his mouth, you almost wanted to go to church after seeing that; he kept going even after he won, until he almost choked and Joshua shut him down), the perfect s’more challenge (which you suspect was just an excuse for Jeonghan to get s’mores without having to make them; Mingyu’s first marshmallow slid off his stick, and the second caught fire; Seungcheol and Chan ended up winning and Seokmin called nepotism), the long jump (Soonyoung got overexcited and misjudged his landing; he landed hard on the cement and although he was totally fine, he would ask Jeonghan at random intervals for bonus points because of his injury with a shit eating grin all the while), and finally, a game of hide and seek.

The hide and seek rules are simple; they’ve been the same since you were old enough to be outside after sunset: don’t go off the block, don’t go inside, don’t leave your partner, and don’t use a light. The tournament judges give you thirty seconds head start. You and Vernon take off down the street and the thrill of the game sings through your bloodstream.

“Think they’ll think to look for us up Mrs. Boo’s tree?” Vernon asks as you run.

“Yeah, you remember Seungcheol did that once and Jeonghan’s never forgotten it, it’s the first place he’ll look.” You pass Chan and Seungcheol as they try to conceal themselves behind the Christmas decorations that Mr. Wilkinson still hasn’t taken down. “Mrs. Kim’s porch?”

“No, she’s got her light on.”

You skid to a halt at the end of the street, chests heaving, both casting around for a hiding space. Down the street, Joshua is beginning to yell, counting down from 10. Vernon tugs your sleeve, and points.

You grin.

Moments later, you resettle the plastic lid onto the box, burying yourselves carefully under the tarp inside and setting a few bricks on your backs for good measure. Mr. Lee is upgrading his yard this summer, and one addition is planned to be a brick footpath, and thankfully he left the tote of bricks out where you could get to it. Holding the tarp firmly in place, with the bricks above you for insurance, if they open the tote and decide to slap the tarp, you would just feel like a full box of footpath bricks.

Perfect.

Of course, it’s a pretty small space and you and Vernon have to lie pretty close to one another in order to fit, and your foot presses against his shin and his elbow is in your stomach, but if you lay there and don’t breathe, you’ll have the game in the bag.

“So,” Vernon says, voice so soft it’s sometimes hardly more than a breath, “what’d you put for number seventeen?”

You think back. “Vernon there was no number seventeen.”

“No?” he asks, with a tone like he’d always known. “Guess I’ll have to make one up.”

You snort, very softly. In the distance, yelling breaks out; Soonyoung and Seokmin just got found.

“How do you feel about long distance relationships?” he asks, so softly you nearly miss it.

Your heart skips a beat. You’re pretty sure he’s implying something but you aren’t sure if it should scare you or not. “I think they’re hard,” you say carefully. “Not impossible. But it takes work from both sides. So it’s hard.”

You hear him inhale like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t, and you feel the breeze from his exhale on your face. Neither of you speak, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re listening hard for the seekers or because you have nothing left to say.

The lid of the tote scrapes. You stop breathing. Jeonghan says something above you, drowned out by the beating of your heart. He pulls the lid off, and the moonlight filtering through the pinholes in the tarp might as well be a searchlight after the darkness.

Vernon’s face is inches from yours.

You blink, feeling like your eyelashes will brush his face with the motion. They don’t. Jeonghan pokes the tarp, hitting one of the bricks lying on your side. Apparently satisfied, he closes the lid. His footsteps recede.

Vernon’s face is still burned into your eyes like a sunspot.

He was staring at your lips.

You end up losing hide and seek, despite your perfect spot, because Minghao and Jun somehow managed to get onto Jeonghan’s roof (nobody’s managed to guess how and the pair smugly refuse to tell). The tournament ends with only Seungkwan and Wonwoo having not won any challenges. They change into swimsuits and dunk themselves in the baby pool, and then sprint back across the lawn to their towels yelling about the cold (you put a finger in; it wasn’t nearly as bad as when Jeonghan had filled it).

Vernon stops you before you get on your bike to get home.

“I’m. . . gonna be out of town for a couple weeks,” he says, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I can still facetime, but probably only in the mornings and evenings.”

“Okay,” you say, even as your heart sinks (he’s never been away this long).

“Yeah,” he says, and you stand there beside your bikes, looking at each other, like you’re both a little lost in what to do. His eyes keep flicking to your lips.

“So what’d you put for number seventeen?” you ask softly.

He doesn’t hesitate. “I think it could work,” he says, voice as soft as it was in the tote, and you find yourself leaning in to listen. “Easily, even, if it was someone as special as--”

He goes quiet. “As?” you prompt.

He shakes his head. “Someone special,” he says.

You haven’t drank at all but something still buzzes in your veins. It’s the first Saturday bonfire of the summer, and moon floats above the horizon like a glowing balloon, and a warm breeze caresses your skin, and you don’t feel afraid of anything.

“I guess it could work easy,” you say, “if it was someone like you.”

He stares at you long enough that you think maybe you overstepped and your cheeks start to heat and you duck your head and step back with something like an apology and--

--his lips crash into yours.

You don’t know if the kiss lasts for three seconds or three hours. All you know is when you break for breath, you find yourself caught in his eyes, the same familiar deep brown as you’ve seen for years growing up through schools and summers and camps and sleepovers, lying on the floor of the living room and whispering about movies and grades like they were the most important thing in the world.

And then you blink and the world unfreezes and he mumbles something about a curfew and you mumble something about your mom and as if pulled by the same strings you mount your bikes and pedal off in opposite directions.

You lie awake for hours, thinking about his eyes.

You facetime at any and all available hours. You find yourself staying up later to be able to catch him on a lunch break. And it’s hard, but you do it. Because, look, everyone on the block has known that his parents want him to go to Korea for college, and that he wants to go to Korea for college. For years you’ve known this moment was coming. And he’s only going to be there a couple weeks for some kind of tour he landed because his grandmother knows a guy who knows a gal who’s related to a guy who used to babysit for the guy on the school board, or something, and then he’ll come back and you can spend the remainder of the summer doing whatever.

Until then, you’re content to wake up earlier just to get an hour chatting with him before he goes to sleep. You show him all the pages you’ve marked in your mom’s old recipe book and tell him when he gets back you’ll make a couple and sell them for profit. You draw an official logo for Clean Mooters, and he suggests you add a restaurant as a side business that you two could run for extra profit. “Clean Mooters and Good Burgers,” he says, and then says, “No that’s terrible. I’ll keep thinking.”

“Are you the whole Clean Mooters marketing team?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says. “We both know all the business sense went to me.” And he smiles and you forget how to breathe.

You don’t talk about the kiss.

One time, he calls you, and your eyes swoop to check the time, because you know it’s crazy late where he is. You answer.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says before you get a word out, and his voice is hoarse and it twists your stomach. “Can you-- just tell me about your new project?”

And you do; you’ve taken up crochet this week and your grandma gave you a couple pointers and you do your best calming ASMR voice as you repeat her pointers and what you plan to do to build your skill, and then end up going off on a tangent on whether Clean Mooters should have a gift shop selling cow merchandise (“It would make sense, there are a lot of cows around here.”) and when you pause to recollect your thoughts, all you hear is his quiet breathing.

The day Vernon’s set to return is a Thursday, which is perfect, because it gives him time to recollect himself before the Saturday bonfire, which will be the real welcome back party. On Thursday, you and the other kids on the block draw all over the street and then, when his flight is late and the sun goes down before he gets to the street, assemble to hold flashlights over the really good stuff. You only see his smile for a few brief seconds as the car goes past, but it’s enough to make your heart swell.

Friday you wake up to a knock on your bedroom door. “Hey, up and at ‘em, it’s noon!” Vernon calls through the door.

You groan and throw an arm over your face. “Says the guy who was still in bed at one pm that whole first week!”

“Yeah, and it was heaven. Come on, you get up fast enough and I’ll buy you a donut.”

You get dressed and meet him downstairs. “Try that again and I’ll convince my mom to rehide the spare key,” you threaten.

He just grins. “I’d be able to find it.” He picks up your bike helmet. “You want to get out of the neighborhood with me?”

You’d rob a bank if it was with him. “Absolutely.”

It’s a rush to be back on your bike, both of you pedaling faster and faster to try to be in front, weaving around the cars parked on the streetside and hopping the curb just to prove you can. Last week’s project was learning to ride a bike no handed and you show off the new skill as often as you can.

You go everywhere and nowhere. You hit up the mall and he buys you a donut and you wander the halls window shopping, and he buys a whole rainbow set of tinted glasses just because they looked cool; you break open the package the minute you own them and check out your reflection in the store window.

“We look ridiculous,” you say, adjusting the red pair so they sit better on your face.

“Speak for yourself,” Vernon says, turning to see himself from different angles. “I think purple’s exactly my color.”

You shove the blue pair on over the red, even though they barely fit on your nose, and stick your tongue out at him. “There, now we match.”

He puts on another pair of glasses and it turns into a competition of who can wear the most, and then into who can wear the most without getting a headache. That second winner was Vernon, but you won the first half.

You hit up the McDonalds in the food court and get the large cup for a dollar, and then go down the drink machine and hit it with just a quick blast of each, repeated over and over until the cup was full. It tastes like a mess of conflicting sugars and syrups. You drink the whole thing through separate straws. You can’t stop glancing at his lips. Your faces are so close.

You get ice cream and sit under the bridge over the creek to eat it, watching the sun go down somewhere downstream, listening to the cars whizzing past overhead.

“I missed you,” Vernon says.

“I missed you too,” you say, even though that doesn’t convey the half of it.

“During the school year--” He stops, and you glance over to see him staring into the sunset, his ice cream melting toward his fingers.

You take his free hand. “It’ll be hard, not being close for so long,” you say. “But-- we could do it. I’m not just going to stop talking to you because I have classes and-- you know how my sleep schedule gets during the year.”

He laughs, softly, lacing your fingers together. “I’ll be able to call and tell you to go to bed without you turning it on me.”

“Damn.” You scowl at your feet. “Didn’t think about that. You sure you can’t just go to Europe instead?”

“Nope,” he says. “You’re going to have to find a new defense.”

You sigh. “But Vernon that one’s worked since we were fourteen.”

“It never worked!”

“Yes it did because then it got you on the defensive instead!”

“But you still went to sleep when I hung up, didn’t you?”

Double damn. He’s right and you know he knows it, from the raised eyebrow look he’s giving you as he catches the ice cream that’s melting around the edges of his cone.

“. . . That’s entirely beside the point.”

He just grins. You bury your face in your ice cream cone, trying to devour the rest in a single bite to avoid the urge to pout. Of course, all that really does is get ice cream all over your face, but whatever. When you look back at him, he’s still looking at you, his eyes soft and fond and damn but you’re going to miss him like a lung when he’s gone.

“You’ve got a little something there,” he says, and you make a face at him to maybe hide how very obviously whipped you are and do your best to wipe it off with the pile of napkins you snatched.

“Better?”

“No, it’s still--” and he scoots in, and you both go really quiet as he wipes the ice cream from your cheek. His thumb traces your lip.

“You know,” you say, very softly, “if you wanted to kiss me you could’ve just asked.”

His eyes blink up to meet yours, and red tints his cheeks, but he still smiles. “Okay,” he says. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

Your ice cream melts. (“It’s okay,” Vernon says, “I’ll buy you another.”)

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 9- Pour it onto the Page

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Bookshop/Bartender AU)

Word Count: 1,812

Summary: You plan a special night out for Bucky and it turns out to be more than you could have hoped for. 

Author’s Note: Thank you all for continuing on this journey with me! I really appreciate all your kind words and support. It keeps me going and makes me so happy! This chapter is mostly flufftastic before I get into them figuring stuff out! :) 

Warnings: slight tiny angst in the beginning and the super fluffy love fluff :) 

Previous Chapters

Chapter 1: Enchantment

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble

Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Chapter 4: Read Between the Limes

Chapter 5: Secrets on the Shelf

Chapter 6: Love Between the Covers

Chapter 7: Love Lines & Soul Finds

Chapter 8: Drunk in Love

Your eyes search his, the sadness you see making your heart hurt. Running your fingers along his jaw you brush your nose to his, “we’ll figure this out, Bucky. Don’t worry.” He crushes you to his chest and buries his face in your neck, his deep inhales shaking your whole body. You rub up and down his back, squeezing him back as tight as you can.

When he finally pulls away his eyes are misty but there is slightly less pain. “Thank you. I’m sorry to drop that bomb on you. I’ve been so happily distracted lately that it just hasn’t seemed real. Grandma kinda dragged it all up again at dinner, though.” You give him a small smile, “it’s ok, I’m glad you felt you could talk to me. Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on so we can figure this out together?”

Bucky throws his arm around your shoulder and starts to walk, resting his head on top of yours. “It just seems like we are getting fewer and fewer customers. People aren’t looking for actual books anymore. They use e-readers and listen to audio books and all that nonsense.” You giggle at this last words. “You know baby, it’s not nonsense, some of it is good. I mean I always prefer an actual book myself. We need to think of a way to get more people into the shop!”

As you continue to walk back to Bucky’s apartment the conversation takes a turn toward your mutual love for books and you’re reminded of Betty’s story of meeting James. “Hey Buck, do you think you should talk to your grandma about this? Maybe she can offer help since she has been a part of it for so long.” Bucky looks down at his shoes, kicking a rock away before his eyes meet yours again, “I’m afraid. She already lost grandpa; I can’t stand to see her in more pain.”

You rest your head against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist, “I know. We’ll think of something.” The two of you walk back to Bucky’s apartment slowly, mostly chatting about his grandparents. When you learn he hasn’t been to Coney Island since he was in his teens, you’re shocked but a plan forms in your head, one that gets you overly excited.

The next work week comes and goes with only one thing different than the last. You finally admit to yourself that you are totally and completely falling in love with Bucky. “And now I’m telling you because I had to tell someone, and I can’t tell him! It’s only be like two months!” You give Nat an exasperated look and sink to the floor in the kitchen, cookie in hand.

“Wow,” Nat says through a mouthful, “these are amazing! What kind did you say they were?” You pin her with a glare before yelling, “I just told you I’m in love with Bucky and you’re asking me about the cookies!!!” She laughs! A real loud and boisterous laugh that causes her to snort some cookie and start to choke. “Jeez, Nat, be careful,” you chide, standing and rubbing her back.

When she finally calms down and catches her breath, she pins you with a look, “I could have told you that you were in love with him after the first week. I was just waiting for you to admit it. Now. What kind of cookies are these? You have to add them to your book!” With a loud sigh you say, “double chocolate peanut butter.”

Nat rests her forearm on your shoulder, licking her fingers clean of crumbs, “listen y/n, he feels the same way. It’s written all over him. Just give it more time.” You grab another cookie from the plate, taking a bite and nodding your head in agreement. “I’m really excited about surprising him with a trip to Coney Island. I hope it makes him happy.” Nat takes the cookie from your hand, finishing it in one bite. “He’s gonna love it! And I’m gonna be sure Sam gives him the night off,” she winks through her mouth full.

Saturday arrives and you can’t control your excitement, bouncing around on your feet while making breakfast. “Doll, what is with you? Did you eat cupcakes or something while I was in the bathroom?” Bucky asks, grabbing your waist to hold you still. You turn in his arms and say, “nope,” popping the p. “Just happy it’s Saturday is all.” He reaches around you and grabs the eggs, smiling before walking to the table.

Just as he sits his phone dings with a message. “It’s early for anyone to be up and texting me other than you. And you’re here,” he says, confusion etched on his face. “It’s Sam.” You try to act surprised and maybe even a little worried, rushing over to wait for him to explain. “Oh wow!” Bucky exclaims, his smile wide, “Sam gave me the night off! He said Peter wanted to pick up an extra shift just for this week.”

You do a little happy dance, “that’s great! Now we have the whole evening free!” Bucky looks up at you, unable to stop smiling with how happy you are. But just as quickly as it comes his smile disappears and his lips turn down into a small frown. “What babe, what’s wrong?” you ask quickly, sitting next to him. “Maybe I shouldn’t take the night off, I kinda need all the money I can get right now.”

His eyes search yours and your stomach turns, cursing yourself for not thinking that he might feel this way. “I understand completely. If you feel you need to work, then you should. Definitely do what you’re most comfortable with.” His smile returns and he leans over to kiss you before saying, “you know what, fuck it. I haven’t had a Saturday off since the bar opened and I wanna take my best girl out on the town!”

You instantly feel better and give him a sly smile. “I have the perfect idea if you’re up for a surprise?” you ask, batting your lashes. He pulls you into his lap, whispering against your lips, “I’ll do whatever you want tonight, baby, I’m all yours.” You wiggle in his lap, your excitement infectious as he laughs along with you. Suddenly he still your hips, letting out a low growl, “listen beautiful, if you’re gonna continue hopping around in my lap like this, I’m gonna be late for the bookshop.” Raising your eyebrows, you slowly turn to face the table, grabbing the fork and eating a mouthful of eggs. “Sorry,” you mumble, but not before one more good wiggle.

You meet Bucky at the bookshop at closing. He’s in the back when you walk in, so you sit yourself on the counter and wait. He walks out in a tight blue tee shirt and jeans, your eyes wandering from his head to his toes. “Is this ok for where we’re going? I didn’t know if I needed to be more dressed up, so I brought a button down.” Sliding off the counter you walk around it and say, “it’s perfect.” He grabs your hand and gives you a twirl, your light cotton dress skirt floating up and around your legs as you giggle. “You look amazing as always.”

You had an uber ready and waiting for you outside the shop and Bucky gives you a surprised smile. “Riding in style tonight, huh?” You giggle, sliding inside the backseat while Bucky holds the door. The whole ride over you keep him engaged in conversation, hoping to divert his attention from where you are going. You make as far as the tunnel before Bucky says anything, his face lit up by the overhead lights.

“Are we in the battery tunnel?” he asks, his tone laced with excited surprise. “Mayyyybbbeee,” you say, shrugging, “just shush and enjoy the ride.” Raising a brow, he puts his hands up and replies, “ok, I promise to just go with it. I won’t ask questions.” You scoot over so he can wrap his arm around you. “So, tell me more about how you met Steve and Sam?”

Bucky tries so hard to keep his eyes on you for the entire ride but as you take the exit to Ocean Parkway, he can’t help but look out the window, his whole face lighting up as he spins around in his seat. “You’re taking me to Coney Island?!!?” he shouts, whipping back around to smush you to his chest. “Does that mean you’re happy?” you ask, your voice muffled in his shirt.  “Yes,” he whispers, lifting your face to his, “so happy.” He kisses you before you can reply and you melt against him, forgetting all about your surroundings.

The uber pulls to a stop on Surf Ave, the cool ocean breeze hitting you as soon as you open the car door. You inhale deeply, the salty air filling your lungs and bringing you peace. You sneak a look at Bucky, his eyes wide and bright as he takes it all in. Before you can ask where he wants to go first, he grabs hold of your hand and starts walking toward the Wonder Wheel.

“Will ya go on with me doll?” You couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to, nodding your head vigorously as you get closer. “I haven’t been on here in…shit, probably over 12 years!” After getting your tickets you get on the line, Bucky’s arm draped over your shoulder as he tells you about his Coney Island memories.

He helps you onto the car, sitting next you and pulling you close. “Oh man, I can’t believe it,” he says, looking out over the park. You watch as the bright and colorful lights dance in the reflection of his eyes, your mouth opening to speak as the wheel starts to turn. “Y/n! Look!” he shouts, pointing out toward the water just as the fireworks start. You pull yourself away, looking out over the ocean as the sky explodes into a rainbow of colors.

As you stare at the bursts of light your mind races over the words you’ve been harboring for weeks. The words about to explode off your tongue louder than the fireworks. His name comes out as a whisper as you turn your head toward him, finding that his eyes are settled on your face. “I love you.” He says the words and they ring out over the booms; louder and clearer than any others you’ve heard before.

You can feel your whole face light up and your heart swell before you repeat the words back. “I love you, Bucky.” His smile matches yours as he dips his head, kissing your lips and pouring everything into it, the bright lights and loud sounds fading away.

@aesthetical-bucky​ @auro-ora​ @azurika-writes​ @bugsbucky​ @buckys-broody-muffin​ @book-dragon-13​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @ikaris-whore​ @itsunclebucky​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelgirl7​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @nano--raptor​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @moonybarnes​ @nordlysinthewoods​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @the-wayward-robot​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @irishflutiegirl​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @fireflv​ @nd1998sc​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @amandatar-06​ @throwmyheartawayagain​ @flyawaybay 

[goldenncherrybombb]

Dance with me?

Just a little dad blurb because who doesn’t love dad Harry? Hope you enjoy :) if you want me to add on to this lmk and request something! I am hoping to get requests done soon! Reblogs and feedback is welcomed!

Masterlist

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: pure fluff

Dinner was just finished and cleaned up. The wonderful roast Anne made was delicious as usual. Now y/n and Harry are sitting on Anne’s back porch swing, Harry’s feet pushing the swing lightly. The warm summer breeze blowing through their hair, the sun setting and casting a golden glow. Her legs were in Harry’s lap, him giving her a much needed foot massage. Harry knows how swollen and sore his wives feet have been due to the extra weight y/n now has.

They reminisce the day they found out that they were expecting. She had been sick a lot, tired all the time, and the major giveaway, she missed her period. Harry had just finished in the studio after a long day. He had come home to a nervous wife sitting on the couch, a blanket covering her lap as she sat criss crossed on the plush couch. She broke out of her gaze when she heard Harry enter the house.

***

“Love, ‘m home!” She hears him set his keys in the bowl kept by the front door, then she hears his shoes tap on the ground as his footsteps grow closer. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous. They had talked about kids many times, kids being something both of them want in their lives. She often looked out the kitchen window that overlooked their back yard, day dreaming about two little kids running around the garden and giggling as Harry chased them around. He even told her about some day dreams of his own. Told her how he couldn’t wait till they had a baby and how he hoped their children were just like her.

So she wasn’t sure why she was nervous. But she overthinks a lot. So she started thinking about the what if’s. What if he doesn’t want kids anymore? What if he only wants to focus on music? What if he leaves? What if-

“Lovie, what are you thinking about?” He questioned softly as he sat down in front of her on the coffee table, noticing how deep in thought she was, and also noticing how nervous she was which made him nervous as well.

She jumped lightly and looked at him, a small smile forming on her lips before she looked down again. He grabbed her hands, hoping to bring her comfort. She slowly looked up at him before looking at the tv that played her favorite childhood movie.

“I always loved this movie when I was a kid, was m’favorite,” he turned around and looked at the movie, smiling when he saw what is was and remembering all the pictures your mum showed him with you dressed up as the main character. “I wonder what our babies favorite movie will be.” She whispered, reaching under and a pillow and pulling out the test. Harry didn’t notice her movements because he was still looking into her eyes, trying to process what she just said. His eyes were bright, and wide. Excitement filling them. Her eyes glossed over when she saw how happy he was.

“Your- your?” She nodded, handing him the test. A smile is on both of their faces, a tear dropping down her cheek and he is quick to wipe it off. Suddenly he quickly hovers over her while quickly laying her down. He begins pressing kisses all over he face before she can even blink and the sensation makes her giggle. “We’re gonna be parents, lovie.” He whispers after finally pressing a kiss on her lips. She laughs lightly through her tears. She was ecstatic to see him so happy. All her nerves washed away when she saw the look in his eyes eyes. He kisses her on the lips once more, this time lingering longer before he moves down to rest over her stomach, pulling her shirt up to expose her skin, even though he knows she isn’t showing yet.

“What are you doing?” She giggles, feeling his lips leave kisses all over her skin.

“‘M bout to have a conversation with our child.” He says, trying to be serious but failing when she feels him smile against her skin. “‘Lo little one, daddy is so very excited right now because your mum just told me the best news. ‘M very excited to meet you, we have awhile to wait, yeah? So ‘m gonna probably annoy your mumma and you with how much I will be talking to yeh for the next nine months.” Y/n giggles and runs her fingers through his hair, shaking her head at him.

***

“Tha’ was a great day.” She agrees and pulls her feet off his lap, moving to give him a kiss. He hums from the feeling and Anne’s playlist starts to play loudly from the kitchen as she bakes cookies, kicking y/n and Harry out, saying they need all the relaxing they can get before her grand baby gets here.

Harry pulls back from the kiss and stands, holding his hand out to her. She had an eyebrow raised as she smiles at him, knowing his intentions.

“Dance with me?” He questions, a cheeky smile on his face.

“Would love to Mr.Styles, but your gonna have to give me your other hand if you want me to stand, baby Styles is getting big.” He chuckles and helps her out of the seat, remembering the times she would whine when she couldn’t get off the couch and would have her lip in a pout when she asked him for help.

Harry guides her down the stairs, making sure she doesn’t somehow slip. Once they land on the grass y/n sighs. Her toes curl into the earth, and she smiles lightly, the feeling of grass between her toes making her feel like a little kid again.

Once they stop in the grass Harry’s arms goes around her waist, his hands resting on her hips. Her arms goes around his neck and she lays her head on his chest, her round bump pressed against Harry’s chest. Harry starts humming as he sways them from side to side, the sweet voice of Etta James flowing through the open windows. Y/n chuckles when she feels a kick against her, their daughter excited to hear her dad.

“I’m gonna miss feeling her kicks when she’s here.” Harry whispers, the moment feeling to blissful to speak anymore than a whisper. His right hand moves to rest on her bump, rubbing circles on her round stomach and feeling the light kicks. His head rests on her forehead when she moves hers to look down at her stomach.

“They do hurt sometimes, but I think I will too.” She admits at the same volume of Harry. “I remember the first time she kicked. We were at your last show and I was off to the side of the stage. I was just watching you sing and all the sudden I felt her kick. I thought I was going into labor!” Harry chuckles lightly, remembering the day well and how concerned he was to see her with her hand on her stomach, a concentrated and confused look on her stomach.

“Wha’s wrong love?” He questions, walking up to her quickly. She looks up at him and starts to smile at him.

“I think she just kicked!” She says cheerfully, wiping his worries away.

“No way!” He says, his mouth open a little bit in excitement and shock. She quickly puts his hand on her stomach, Harry’s mouth dropping more when he feels her kick. Harry’s band joins them and he tells them the news. A few of them feeling the kicks, Sarah telling y/n how excited she is.

“Can’t believe she’s gonna be ‘ere soon. I already don’t wan her to grow up and she’s not even ‘ere yet.” Harry pouts making y/n shake her head and smile at him.

“Your gonna go crazy when she has her first crush.” Harry gets a look of distaste on his face, shaking his head.

“Don’t wanna even think abou’ tha’.” He says lowly, shaking his head. Y/n laughs at him and kisses his cheek. They continue to sway for a little bit, reminiscing memories from over the years. The crickets aren’t to loud, and the late summer day breeze cools their skin. They are laughing when y/n gasps all of the sudden. Her hands move from around his neck to the underside of her stomach. Her face scrunches in pain and Harry’s face drops, looking concerned.

“H, my water just broke.” She says, not sounding too concerned.

“Shit, ok, ‘s alright love. The bags are all in the car. Are you sure you haven’t peed yourself?” He questions, wanting to make sure it is actually go time before her gets even more nervous.

“Yes I’m sure I haven’t peed myself.” She grumbles, shaking her head lightly.

“Let’s go inside and grab your shoes so we can go and meet our daughter, love.” she nods and he moves to help her walk the short distance before he speaks up again.

“I need to change out of my dress first. ‘M not sitting in your car in a wet dress.” He nods and they open the back door. Anne looks over and smiles at them before her face drops when she realizes what’s happening.

“Oh my gosh, ‘s really happenin’!” Harry gives her a nervous smile, as well as y/n before she squeezes Harry’s hand and whimpers quietly.

“We gotta go. I’ll call you soon!” Harry promises, ushering y/n into the guest bedroom downstairs. He refused to let her walk up the stairs to get to his childhood bedroom, telling her if he didn’t want her doing it at home nothing is changing here. She rolled her eyes at his protectiveness but is silently thanking him now since she doesn’t have to go upstairs to change.

Once they get into their room he quickly goes over to their luggage, asking her what she wants.

“One of your shirts, underwear, and leggings please.” He nods and digs the items out of their bags. Once he has it all he helps her get out of her dress and underwear. He slides his old dreamboat shirt over her. Then he leans down and helps her step into her underwear then her maternity leggings. She has a few contractions during the process, hissing and holding Harry tighter as he talks her through it. She thanks him with a kiss before pulling back.

“Let’s go do this Mrs. Styles.” She smiles and nods, following Harry as he helps her out of the room and to the car. Harry speeds as carefully as he can to get them their faster. He has his hand in hers, running his thumb over her skin comfortingly.

“It didn’t hurt that much at first, but ‘s definitely starting too.” She admits, throwing her head back with closed eyes when she gets a strong contracting.

“‘M sorry sweetheart, I wish I could take the pain from you.” He hates seeing her in pain, but he especially hates when their is nothing he can do to help her.

He pulls into the hospitals car park, driving up to the emergency lane. He parks his car and shuts it off, not caring it’s in the way at the moment. Someone can move it. His main concern is his wife who is having another painful contraction, now two minutes apart.

“‘S alright, pet. Breathe with me.” He inhales deeply and she follows. He breathes out and her eyes flutter closed as she repeats his actions, feeling the tiniest bit better after her contraction.

Helps her out of the car and into the hospital, telling the nurse. She gets them a wheelchair and wheels y/n to a small room. She checks her vitals, asks a few questions, and hooks her up to a few machines after y/n changes into a gown, before leaving the two, soon to be three. She tells them the doctor will be in shortly, and true to her word their doctor walks in with a smile on her face.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs.Styles.” She greets before washing her hands. Her and Harry reply back before she starts speaking again. “I’m going to check your dilation and we’ll see if you guys are gonna be parents today. You may feel some discomfort.” Y/n nods at her and Harry distracts her as Dr.Anderson checks y/n. Once Dr.Anderson is done she looks up at them with a smile.

“We’re going to move you up to your room soon Mrs.Styles, you are six centimeters dilated.” Their smiles widen impossibly more when it’s confirmed that this is for real this time and not like when she hair Braxton hicks a few weeks ago.

Suddenly a few nurses come in and explain to her what they are doing as they prepare to move her. She gets an IV in before harry helps her stand, she holds onto him and has the IV drip stand in her right hand as she walks. The nurse stops in front of the door and opens it for them.

Their is a couch on the wall straight ahead, a floor to ceiling window making up most of the wall that overlooks the city. The clear bassinet is next to the bigger one for when she arrives. A bathroom is on the left as soon as you walk in. When you walk in further you see the bed.

Harry helps her into the bed They put a band around her stomach that tracks the baby’s vitals and her contractions. Once the last nurse has left after coming back with ice chips for y/n, and fuzzy socks on her feet, Harry crawls into the uncomfortable hospital bed next to her. She puts her head on his shoulder, his cheek laying on top of her head, and his arm goes around to rest on her bump.

“I text mum and asked her to call your parents for us, she said they would be here soon. Gemma should be up here soon, she moved my car fo’ me and got our bags.” Y/n nods and yawns, already tired from the day and the pain she feels every two or three minutes. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep now, I’ll move to the chair.” She shakes her head at him, not letting him stand up.

“Don’t go, I don’t want you to move.” He kisses her forehead before he readjusts in the bed, and makes sure she is comfy. His fingers comb through her hair. She puts her hands on her bump, her eyes fluttering closed. She has one more painful contraction before she falls asleep, she’s thankful for the medication she got for her contractions or else she doesn’t think she would’ve fallen asleep.

Harry smiles when he hears her snore lightly into his neck, he moved the bed back per her requests so she could have her arm around his stomach and her face in his neck, her favorite sleeping position. His fingers rub into her back to try and help soothe some of her back pain she always pouted at Harry about. While she sleeps he quickly texts his bandmates and updates them. Not long after he puts his phone up and refocuses on whatever movie was playing on the TV, he hears a knock before Gemma comes into view, smiling at him.

“Hi, Gem.” He says quietly a she looks at y/n, noticing she is sleeping. She sits in the chair next to the bed before answering him.

“Hey, H. How is she?” She questions, looking at y/n again and smiling at how she has fallen asleep.

“Tired, but good. Hoping she’s here soon so she’s not in pain much longer.” Harry doesn’t take his eyes off of y/n as he speaks, watching her face for any signs of discomfort.

“Can’t wait for her to be here so I can finally be an aunt.” Harry smiles and looks at her.

“Can’t wait for her to be here so I can finally be a dad.” They talk for awhile longer, Anne and y/n’s parents joining them, Harry’s dad waiting till she arrives to come since he lives further away. Y/n wakes up an hour later and joins the conversation. They all leave not long after she wakes up, y/n’s pain rising and the night passing by quickly. Gemma reminds Harry to call her once she’s almost here a million times so he will remember and she hugs y/n and wishes her good luck with a kiss on her cheek before leaving, everyone else doing the same. Y/n’s mom gives her extra hugs and cheek kisses, hugging her ‘little girl’ with teary eyes.

After they leave y/n stands from the bed, wanting to walk around the room and go on the yoga ball for a little bit to hopefully speed it up some. A few hours pass of her rotating between bouncing on the ball and walking around the room. Now her cheek is resting against Harry’s chest, listening to his calming heart beat as he sways them back and forth, rubbing her back to alleviate some pain. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail to help cool her off and get her hair out of her face. Their swaying reminds her of earlier in the night when they were at Anne’s doing the same thing. Y/n feels a pressure in her lower region and it makes her groan into Harry’s chest.

“I need to start pushing Harry, like ASAP.” She tells him making him freeze for a second before he is nodding and helping her sit back down on the bed. She pushes the call button and a nurse comes in. Y/n informs her of what she is feeling and the nurse pages the doctor. Her dr comes in and asks her a few questions while washing her hands and putting gloves on before she checks her dilation once more.

“Your ten centimeters now, y/n. It’s time to start pushing.” She tells her, smiling at her comfortingly seeing how nervous she got. More nurses come in and start to get the bed ready, the babies bed ready, and the other things needed. While they do so the couple pays no mind to what’s going on around them. Harry has her hand in his, kissing her knuckles as his eyes get glossy.

“Your gonna do so good, love. ‘M right here, you can squeeze m’hand as much as yeh want.” She chuckles and smiles at him before leaving a quick kiss to his lips before Dr.Anderson instructs her to move her legs to the stirrups. She does as said and notices all the nurses in place for her to start pushing.

“Whenever you’re ready, y/n.” Her doctor tells her. Y/n takes a deep breathe before telling her she is ready. “On the count of three I want you to start pushing, alright?” She nods and listens as she counts down before she starts to push. Harry is instructed to hold her leg and he does so, y/n crushes his hand as she pushes, but Harry says nothing and encourages her. She falls back when she’s done, her chest rising and falling faster. She continues to push and her face gets more sweaty as her lower region feels like it’s on fire. She starts to fuss at Harry for touching her, and getting her pregnant.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” She tells him, only so they can hear. “‘M not letting you knock me up again. This shit hurts.” Harry chuckles at her and kisses her sweaty forehead.

“Well see about that sweetheart, your to irresistible, and I love seeing you pregnant.” She huffs and rolls her eyes, going back to pushing.

“One more y/n, I can see the head.” With Dr.Andersons words y/n feels the overwhelming urge to cry knowing with just one more push her baby will finally be here after almost nine month.

“Hear that, love? You’re gonna be a mum soon.” He smiles at her with teary eyes as the arrival of their daughter comes closer. Her eyes are glossy as well as she looks at him, his hand rubs her hair off her sweaty forehead. “One more, tha’s it, babe, then little lovie is here. You got this. Put all your anger that you have towards me for getting yeh knocked up and making you feel this pain and push, baby. Break m’fuckin’ hand.” He whispers in her ear, encouraging her. She nods at him and that seems to give her the motivation she needs as she pushes one more time.

It feels like it happens in slow motion when their precious little girls cries pierce the air for the first time after Harry cuts her umbilical cord while staring at her in awe. Her little lungs giving all the got as she cry’s before laying on y/n’s, now bare chest due to her gown being rolled down, as the nurses clean her. Y/n cries as she looks at her little girl, greeting her as she stares at her mum with wide eyes and resting her index finger on her little chin before she looks at Harry.

“You’re a dad now, H.” She tells him with a broken voice as her emotions flow over her like a tsunami. He smashes his lips against hers quickly, the tears on his cheeks mixing with hers, before he looks back at his daughter, moving his hand to grab her tiny fist. She grasps on to his finger and at the moment he was sure he was done for. His heart had never felt so full, he couldn’t be more in love with his little family. His little love looks at him with wide eyes as she blinks slowly, her eyes a blue green color.

“Scarlett Renee Styles.” Harry whispers with a smile on his face. “She’s got quite a bit of hair, ay?” Y/n nods and hums in agreement.

“She better, I had too much heartburn for her not to.” She laughs lightly, neither of their gazes leaving their little bundle of joy.

The nurse takes her from y/n to clean her up while y/n does. Harry kisses y/n’s forehead once more and whispers ‘I love you’ before following the nurse that his his world in her hands.

She lays her down in the bassinet and wipes her off some more. She then puts a diaper on her before she listens to her heartbeat, takes her weight, and measure her. She cries as the nurse does this and Harry frowns, wanting to pick her up and protect her from the nurse. He makes sure to take some photos.

Once she is swaddled and warm, a baby pink hat on her head, the nurse picks her up and hands her to Harry. Harry nervously takes her and when she is rested in his arms he feels like he could melt.

“‘S alright little lovie, Daddys right here.” He whispers to her, walking her over to y/n whom is talking to Dr.Anderson now that she is done cleaning her up. She talks to her about feeding and Harry frowns when he hears he has to give Scarlett to y/n to feed, he wants to hold her forever.

But he giver his little girl over and y/n coos at her when she’s in her arms, moving her gown off her shoulder again. Dr.Anderson guides her through it and soon Scarlett is having her first feed. The dr leaves soon after, making sure they are set for a bit. Harry sits next to y/n, watching Scarlett as she feeds and having not listened to anything Dr.Anderson has said, too entranced by his daughter as she watches her mom with wide eyes, recognizing her voice as she talks.

“We make pretty cute babies.” Harry says as y/n leans back to get comfortable. She hums in agreement and keeps her eyes on her little one, her index fingers caressing her small and soft cheek. “You sure you don’t want more love?”

“Maybe a few.” She whispers and Harry chuckles.

“Though’ you didn’t want anymo’?” Harry questions knowingly and teasingly. Y/n rolls her eyes playfully and flicks him making him yelp. “‘S not very nice to tease yeh husband, and now baby daddy, babe.” He pouts.

“Didn’t know I had two babies.” Harry huffs and she chuckles while patting his cheek. Once Scarlett is done feeding Harry leaves the room to get everyone from the waiting room. They stand up quickly and he smiles at them.

“‘S a girl.” They all cheer, congratulating him, and hugging him quickly before hurrying to go see the little one. Once they enter the room the girls gasp when they see y/n and baby Scar on her chest, unswaddled now but the blanket still covers her. She has pantone pink legless sleeper on, with matching socks and hat, white mittens on her hands. She lays on y/n’s chest, right over her heart, asleep. Harry moves back to his spot next to y/n, watching her swaddle Scarlett and answers their questions. Anne holds Scarlett first, looking down at her with glossy eyes.

Y/n leans back on Harry’s chest, his arm going around her, now empty, stomach. They all compliment her as each get their turn to hold her. The new parents watch with tired smiles on their faces as they admire her. Y/n turns and looks at him, noticing him pouting as he looks at them. He grumbles when Scarlett gets passed to Gemma, Gemma gladly taking her with a smile on her face.

“Was wrong, h?” Y/n questions, already knowing the look on his face.

“Want m’baby back.” He grumbles, his gaze never leaving Scarlett. She chuckles and pats his cheek lightly as he looks at her.

“We have our how life with her, bubs. ‘S ok.” He lets out a large breath and looks back at his daughter quickly before looking at y/n.

“‘S not enough time still.” She smiles up at him fondly and kisses her cheek before turning to look at her mom who starts telling Harry how much she looks like him.

“Can’t believe my baby has a baby.” Anne whispers to Harry as she hugs him goodbye. Y/n’s parents and Gemma left a few minutes ago and now Anne is saying her goodbyes. After she hugs Harry she moves over to y/n.

“So proud of you sweetheart, thank your for everything you have done for my son.” They talk for a few more minutes and kisses their heads once more before leaving.

Y/n falls asleep shortly after Harry turns the lights off and plays one of their favorite movies. Scarlett hasn’t left the comfort of his arms since he got her back from everyone.

Harry sits on the couch with Scarlett in his arms. He admires her in the golden glow the rising sun is casting throw the sheer curtains.

“Yer daddy’s little princess, ya know that? I’d do anything for you. Yer the pretties girl ‘ve ever seen, your mum tying with you. ‘M so proud of your mum. She’s so strong, I know daddy couldn’t do that.” She seems to find his words funny as her lips twitch into a small smile. “‘M gonna protect you, love you, and teach you everything you need to know. I already love you s’much, and I know yer mum does too. May even love you more than me, but that’s ok, I don’t blame her.” He smiles down at her, his eyes dropping more and more so he puts her in her bassinet. Wheeling her close to the bed before he climbs in next to y/n. Her head lays on his chest and her arm goes around his stomach.

“I love you so much, thank you for give me a family, lovie.” He whispers, kissing her temple. She smiles sleepily against his chest.

“Love you too, H.” She whispers as her eyes close again. Harry smiles and lets sleep over take him after one last peek at his sleeping little girl.

[inactive-shroomiehomie]

Holly & Jolly pt.3

Other Parts: Part 1 | Part 2

Square: Holiday Party

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader

Word Count: 1489

Warnings: lots of crimmus smut !! (car sex)

A/N: I have nothing to say. Maybe get a cool rag before reading? ;)

Stepping out of your car, you cursed loudly at how cold it was. You wore a gorgeous dark red, laced sleeved formal dress. It cut off about knee high and to match you wore a pair of beige, glossy flats. The holiday party might have just been at Olivia’s place, but she did want everyone to dress nicely. Even your puffy winter coat couldn’t warm you up right now. 

You grabbed the box of Holiday cookies from your passenger seat and made your way inside the building and out of the cold. On your way in, you met Carisi out at the elevator. He couldn’t get much dressier than he did at work, but he did try to keep sneaking cookies from you. You playfully smacked your friend’s hand.

“Since when do you wear dresses? You don’t even dress that nice for court.”

“Olivia said to dress nice, so..”

In the few moments of silence that passed, the elevator came down. Just as it dinged, Carisi dramatically looked over at you with his eyebrows raised, “Are you and Barba-”

“I’m hoping so. But we are not-” You swatted his hand again as you stepped in the elevator, “-talking bout this anymore. I don’t wanna jinx anything.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed, tucking his hands into his pockets.

The elevator was short, but when you arrived at Olivia’s everyone from the squad was already there. Noah and Rollin’s girls were even dressed up in cute little dinner outfits. The apartment was lined floor to roof with green and red and the delectable smell of turkey was enough to warm you up when you walked in.

“Hey! (L/N), Carisi! I’m so glad you could make it.” Olivia hugged you both, taking the box of cookies from you to go to the kitchen. “You can put your coats on my bed.”

Carisi took your coat, ignoring your protest. But you gave up and just let him take it. You walked into the kitchen, meeting up with Rollins and Kat.

“Daaaamn, detective. You really know how to clean up.” Kat raised her glass to you with a playful wink.

“She’s not wrong, (Y/N).”

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed lightly, picking up a bottle of white wine and pouring yourself a glass.

You looked around the room slyly as you sip your wine. You brush some of your hair away from your face as you see Rafael walk in. You stop drinking your wine to take in the view. He wore a dark green dress shirt with a deep, red, striped tie and his black blazer draped over his arm. His hair is messier than normal, but still fixed up. Possibly tossled by the wind.

He hugged Liv, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek and walked to the back to put his blazer up. Did... did he even see you?

You hummed annoyed, tossing back the rest of your wine.

“Woah.” Rollins departed from her and Kat’s conversation to look at you refilling your glass. “Maybe have some crackers with that?”

“I’m fine. Just a little annoyed.”

“Why’s that?”

You glanced over your shoulder to see who else was around before speaking. “Rafael came over today and...we kind of made up. I just- I don’t know. I wanted to dress pretty for him.”

Kat and Rollins shared a look and laughed quietly.

“What?! Is it so much to ask for a little attention when I make an effort?” You scolded them quietly while they laughed.

“You sound like you’re married already.” Rollins snickered.

“Ugh, you two are no help.” You huffed, walking off to go sit down with the kiddos. 

The party went along nicely and the dinner was amazing. Olivia is anamazing cook and so is Carisi. After dinner everyone lingered around the living room, playing with the kids and exchanging stories. The whole party, Rafael went the entire time without speaking to you. But just as everything had settled, he walked up behind you, leaning against the back of the chair you were sitting in with a glass of scotch.

“So I exist to you now?” You whispered to him.

Rafael hummed as if he were thinking, but you knew he was being a smart-ass. “No, I knew you existed.” He leaned in closer so you could only hear him, “I’m just trying to hold myself back from tearing that gorgeous dress off you right here.”

You almost choked on your wine, but played it off, waving your hand at Olivia who looked at you concerned. Your face started to heat up from his words. You had to sit your wine down and excuse yourself.

“I’m uh..” You pointed both thumbs toward the door, “I’m gonna go down to my car for a sec. I’ll be right back.”

You flashed Rafael a look, which he returned, and stepped out into the hall. By the time you made it outside and into your car, Rafael was on your heels. You both climbed in and he was immediately on you. The kiss was nowhere near classy. A dance of tongues sliding hungrily against one another, hands tangling in hair, and skin heating up quick against skin.

Rafael messed with the zipper on your back, making quick work of sliding it down and off of your shoulders. His lips started moving down your body. Leaving a stinging hot trail from your jaw and to the crest above your breasts. 

“Fuck, Raffy..” You moaned, “I missed this.”

“Wanna move to the back seat?” Rafael asked, sucking at the skin just underneath of one of your bra cups, where no one could see.

“You better hurry up.”

You moved him to climb into the back seat, shimmying your underwear off and into the floorboard.

“Fuck, just can’t wait can you?” Rafael growled, climbing above you and throwing your legs onto his shoulders.

“I’ve been waiting for you for 4 months, Rafael. Hasn’t been ea-” You cut yourself off, your jaw dropping into a silent scream as you feel his tongue flatten against your cunt. One of your hands gripped his hair tightly while your thighs did the same.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..” You whined as Rafael sucked and lapped at you.

You moan low in your throat, patting Rafael quickly on his shoulder, “Rafa, baby, I’m not gonna make it...”

When he removed himself from you, you could barely catch your breath and the sight of his chin drench with your juices made it even harder. Rafael reached into his pocket to pull out a condom, which made you laugh.

“Someone was expecting this.”

“Well, not exactly in this setting, but you bet your sweet, sweet ass I did.”

You giggled excitedly as he climbed over you, condom already on and good to go. Rafael gripped onto your hip with one hand while the other helped position himself inside of you. He rushed himself in slow, the both of you holding your breath as he did.

“You really have been waiting, huh? Your pretty, little cunt is so tight and ready for me, Carina. Can barely fit myself in there.” 

When he bottomed out, you finally let out the moan you were holding in, along with all of your breath. Rafael laughed softly and leaned over you, holding himself steady against one of the doors.

Rafae moved at a quick, but steady pace. You dug your heels into where his thighs and ass meet, earning a groan from the man of sin above you.

“Holy shit, Rafa, baby, I’m gonna cum already...”

“Right there with you...” His hot breath against your ear made your back arch and your hand latch onto his hair.

He picked up his pace, trying his best to have you come undone before he did. You could feel tears slipping down the side of your face and just knew you were going to have to fix your makeup before going back in. But it’s all sooo worth it.

WIth just a few more thrusts, you felt the big knot in your stomach come loose and you were screaming his name as you clung onto him for dear life. Not far behind, Rafael came with the same intensity, practically sounding like a pornstar when he came. Everything might have been quick, but it was some of the best sex the two of you have had. 

He didn’t dare move as the two of you caught your breath. He just looked down at your mascara stained face and smiled wide. You rolled your head up to look at him through barely open eyes, “What?”

“This was one hell of a Christmas present.” Rafael smirked, leaning down to capture your lips with his. 

You laughed into the kiss, massaging the place where your nails had dug into his scalp. He hummed at the feeling. When you pulled away, you looked up to him with a devious look in your eyes.

“Round two at my place?”

-FIN-

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Tags: @thatesqcrush​, @ritajammer21​

[sleepyxcoffee]

@thewitchersecretsanta gift for @youkaineko !

Ultimately, this was all Master Varin’s fault.

It hadn’t, Vesemir explained, been mandatory for young witchers to hold a degree until 1990, when Master Varin had returned after spending six years obtaining a Bachelor’s in Chemistry whilst still doing all his… witchering. He had proclaimed the experience “eye opening” and “a good way to get to know humans” and some other bullshit Geralt didn’t fully understand.

Geralt had succeeded in evading the Trial of Uni, as he and Eskel had taken to calling it, for a grand total of two months after his Grasses, until Vesemir had all but scruffed him and dragged him to a computer with UCAS opened up. His only solace in the whole situation was that he and Eskel were applying to all the same universities.

Except then Eskel got a full scholarship to the University of St Andrews, which the trainers weren’t letting him pass up on, and Geralt… didn’t get a place at St Andrews.

Which was how Geralt had ended up at Edinburgh instead. It was still Scotland, at least, so it wasn’t that far from Kaer Morhen over on the Shetland Isles, or Eskel in St Andrews. It was a city, which was… less than desirable, but Geralt could work with that.

He could.

What he wasn’t so sure he could work with was the fucking disaster of a man he had ended up flatmates with. The others seemed alright - Shani and Priscilla gave Geralt his space, and didn’t bother him too much. They didn’t seem to mind that he was a witcher either.

Jaskier, on the other hand…

The best part was, Geralt hadn’t even met Jaskier in the flat. For the first half of his first semester, Room 4 in Flat 12 of College Wynd had remained blissfully unoccupied. Shani and Priscilla did their own thing - Shani was rarely in the flat anyway, being a medicine student with a ridiculously full schedule - and Priscilla spent most of her time doing her theatre society things. The girls were at least kind enough to not throw any parties in the flat, after the time Geralt had nearly murdered Priscilla with a glare for doing so.

No, Geralt met Jaskier outside the dean’s office, of all the possible places.

It was November, and Geralt had heard of some strange, possibly vampiric, activity occurring on the outskirts of Edinburgh, thanks to a contract for a witcher put up by the Metropolitan Police. Unfortunately, he was also the only fully trained Wolf witcher situated anywhere near Edinburgh, and he’d be damned if he let a passing Cat or Griffin or anyone hop in and take the kill. Remus had passed through last week, but he was all the way down in Yorkshire by the time the reports came in. The UK was large, and the Wolf School was only a hundred or so members strong. They didn’t have enough witchers to permanently station anyone in cities, their witchers instead roaming up and down the country.

Also unfortunately, Geralt had about five different assignments due the next week, but the police were getting antsy, nobody could find the stupid vampire, and nobody could even identify it. Geralt had wanted to just get up and leave to take the contract, but Vesemir insisted he had to go ask the dean for permission to miss his classes first, and also for an extension on his assignments, because Melitele knew Geralt might take a while.

So, much to his annoyance, Geralt had ended up sitting outside the dean’s office during one of his free periods, fidgeting and playing with his medallion and his hood pulled over his distinctly white hair, shadowing his cat-slitted eyes. Just because everyone knew he was a witcher didn’t mean he wanted to put himself on show.

Then a tall, slim man wearing a frankly ridiculous red raincoat over an even more ridiculous yellow crop top and absolutely horrifying high waisted jeans and incredibly impractical Ugg boots (it was Scotland, how were his boots not soaked through?) sat down next to Geralt.

“Hi,” he said cheerfully, in an obnoxiously posh accent. “I’m Jaskier.”

“Hmm.” Who named themselves Buttercup in another language?

Jaskier laughed. “Hmm. What an excellent name. I love how you just sit there and… brood.”

Geralt turned pointedly away from him.

“Come on, you can’t keep a man with…” Jaskier waved his hands wildly, “...a screwdriver in his pants waiting.”

That caught Geralt’s attention. “What?”

Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh, yeah. Say, what are you here for?”

“Absence request,” Geralt said shortly.

“Right, those, yeah,” Jaskier laughed again and sank down in his seat. “I’m uh - well, I may or may not have stabbed my flatmate with a screwdriver while I was putting together this thing from IKEA?”

Geralt stared at him.

Jaskier’s arms flailed again, and he made an odd sound. “He’s okay - unfortunately - he just ended up bleeding a little and started screaming and our RA walked in, and, yeah, I’m here now.”

There was a moment of silence. Geralt… didn’t know what to say to that. He settled for sinking further into his chair.

“...so, uh. What do you need leave permission for?”

“Job.”

Jaskier made an interested sound. “Ooh, cool! I should get myself one of those. What’s your job?”

“Killing monsters.”

“Huh?”

Geralt was saved from having to answer further when the dean opened his door. “Geralt Rivia!” he called. Geralt stood and pulled back his hood.

“Here,” he said gruffly.

Jaskier gasped and leapt to his feet. “Oh my god, I know you! White hair, yellow eyes - you’re that witcher! Jerald Rivia!” Geralt speed walked into the dean’s office. He gave Geralt a confused look, but stepped aside to let Geralt in anyway. “Jerald - hey, wait, that’s how you say your name, right - wait, don’t leave! Hang on! I’m sure you have a treasure trove of stories -”

The dean shut the door, and Geralt sighed in relief. “What was that all about?” the dean asked. Geralt shrugged. “Right. Well then, Geralt, what did you need to see me for?”

Once the dean had granted Geralt his leave with minimal fussing (scary witcher eyes worked wonders), Geralt brushed straight past Jaskier to return to his dorm room, despite Jaskier’s attempts to reach out to him. He had a vampire to track.

***

The vampire, as Geralt now knew two days later, was a katakan. And not just any katakan - an old, experienced katakan who had left Geralt sore, out of Black Blood, and highly toxic. The smarting in his leg told him Swallow or even White Raffard’s was probably called for, but the white hot throbbing of his veins told him White Honey was a much better idea.

Geralt groaned as he stumbled into the flat. Shani and Priscilla were, predictably, asleep - it was four in the morning, after all, but there was a third heartbeat coming from the kitchen. Instantly on high alert, Geralt kept one hand on his steel sword as he opened the kitchen door.

Dancing in front of the countertop was… Jaskier? What was the strange man from the dean’s office doing here? He was dressed in shorts and a loose T-shirt, and, humming, put a metal bowl in the microwave.

“Stop!” Geralt exclaimed. Jaskier yelped and dropped a fork - which had, God help him, been going into the bowl. “What are you doing?”

“Geralt! Is that any way to greet your new flatmate - sorry for getting your name wrong, by the way - hey, what are you doing -” Geralt shoved past Jaskier to yank the bowl out of the microwave and slam it onto the counter. It contained… what might have been mac and cheese. “What are you doing - you’re getting monster guts everywhere!”

“You can’t microwave metal,” Geralt snarled. “It’ll blow up.”

Jaskier blinked once. Twice. “Well. Ah. Thank you for letting me know - you’ve just saved our flat. A true hero. Say, what are you covered in?”

“Katakan.” Geralt stepped away from Jaskier and shrugged off his swords. Jaskier’s eyes trailed them curiously.

“Katakan. So, that’s, what, a type of necrophage?”

“Vampire. Their true form looks like a giant mutated bat but they can disguise themselves as humans, and their healing is slowest when the sun is highest. Violent. Nasty.”

“You don’t say,” Jaskier mumbled, eyeing Geralt thoughtfully. “And what about you? Why are your eyes all… black? Is that your witcher true form or something?”

Geralt… had nearly forgotten about that. He pulled out a White Honey from his belt pouch and chugged it. Immediately, the warmth spread through his veins, and he felt the toxins clear. “Witcher potions. Too much is toxic for even us.”

“Oh wow, your eyes are going back to gold.” Jaskier peered at him curiously, then made a face and leaned away. “You reek. You need a long hot shower. I refuse to live with that stench.”

Geralt’s thoughts came to a grinding halt. “You live here? Since when?”

Jaskier scratched his head awkwardly. “Since, well, yesterday. Because I stabbed Valdo Marx, who completely deserved it by the way. Unfortunately, he’s fine.”

...Geralt suddenly felt unreasonably worried for his safety.

He was pleased to learn, however, that the screwdriver stabbing asides, Jaskier proved to be a surprisingly good flatmate. Sure, he seemed to be completely nocturnal, but he was quiet enough at night and didn’t make a mess. He talked a lot, but after the first five times he tried to engage Geralt in conversation, he left Geralt pretty much alone. Having lived at Kaer Morhen, that was all Geralt could ask for. Jaskier even tried to arrange flat bonding sessions, which turned out surprisingly well and meant Geralt actually spoke to Priscilla and Shani, even though one session had resulted in Geralt needing to Aard the oven.

The story had Lambert and Eskel cackling when Geralt told it to them over the winter break. It was supper time, and the three were sitting together sawing at hard meat which was probably at least a year out of date with their dinner knives. Things never did go well when it was Gweld’s turn to cook. At least this time there were no magic mushrooms.

“How do you fuck up cookies that badly?” Lambert wheezed.

“You made bread explode once,” Eskel reminded him.

Lambert waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, but that was on purpose.”

Just thinking of the incident made Geralt groan. That had been interesting to explain to Vesemir, and Rennes had been distinctly displeased. Poor Lambert had spent the rest of the week waking up an hour before dawn to run laps in the frigid Shetland air.

“Compared to you, my university’s been fine,” Eskel said. “I haven’t had to take any contracts. Monsters don’t seem to like St Andrews.”

“The Trial of Uni is really fucking stupid,” Lambert grumbled. “The world already knows we’re freaks. Why rub it in our faces?”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” Eskel replied evenly. “Geralt?”

“Hmm.”

Eskel sighed. “Talkative as always. But really, Lambert, it’s not as bad as some people -” at this, Eskel threw a pointed look halfway across the Great Hall at Clovis, who even more pointedly ignored him - “make it seem.”

“It’s no worse than Kaer Morhen,” Geralt agreed. “Up for a round of Gwent?”

Naturally, Geralt won his round against Lambert, and then his round against Eskel, and Clovis, and Gweld, and Aubry, and Remus. He then promptly lost fifty pounds to Vesemir, but he at least had a few new cards, which was enough to please him. Unfortunately, Gwent had fallen out of fashion with humans sometime in the last century (the joys of having ancient instructors), so Geralt would have to wait until he met another witcher to play another round.

He returned to Edinburgh in high spirits. Aubry had offered to drive him and Eskel back to university, seeing as he planned on working his way down to Wales anyway. The car ride was long, but Geralt entertained himself with even more Gwent and bugging Eskel. Eskel returned what he got, and more than once Aubry had to remind them to not start sparring in the backseat of his car.

“I’ve had her for twenty years,” Aubry complained. “I refuse to lose her to a pair of rowdy green witchers.”

Unsurprisingly, Geralt was the first to return to his flat. The term didn’t start for another week, but witchers could hardly afford to lounge around all winter, what with the amount of monsters in Great Britain. Geralt didn’t have his own car, and so he was dependent on older witchers driving him back to university, seeing as he didn’t want to walk nearly four hundred miles.

The benefit of returning to university early, however, was that he had time to take on a contract. Someone had called Kaer Morhen just before he arrived to report “strange supernatural activity” in an abandoned flat. Geralt allowed himself a night’s rest, then set out to the apartment with his two swords.

It turned out to be a noonwraith, and that on its own would have been simple enough; noonwraiths were annoying little buggers, but they were manageable. No, the problem was when Geralt belatedly realised there was an alp in the basement.

The ensuing fight was hard and bloody. In the end, Geralt came out on top, but not without a wide range of injuries which left him on the ground wheezing. Eventually, he mustered the strength to take some potions and stagger back home, but not before texting Vesemir to let him know the contract was done. The contract giver would transfer money to Kaer Morhen, and Vesemir would send him his share. All in all, it was a clean system.

Geralt managed to stagger back to his flat. It was nighttime, and not many students had returned, meaning the streets were still relatively quiet. Those who did see him gave him a wide berth, murmuring and pointing, but Geralt ignored it. He just wanted to get home. A hot bath sounded excellent - then he could treat his wounds.

Unfortunately, Geralt discovered upon his return that someone else had arrived. He cursed his luck as he closed the door behind him. There was a suitcase in the front hall, and the kitchen door was propped open by a chair. Geralt could hear a man humming. Jaskier. Great.

Perhaps he could sneak past without Jaskier noticing - 

“Hello? Who’s there?” Jaskier called, and Geralt winced.

“Just me,” he called back.

“Ah! Geralt! How was your - Melitele’s tits, what the fuck happened to you?” Jaskier exclaimed. He dropped the piece of toast he had been holding and rushed to Geralt, hovering next to him. “Do you need the hospital? Should I call 999? I’m calling 999 -”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said forcefully. “I’m a witcher. I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Jaskier said fretfully. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call 999?” His hand hovered over the phone in his pocket.

“I’m sure. They don’t know shit about witchers.” Geralt started limping to the bath.

“Wait. Let me help stitch you back up, at least. I’ve got a first aid certificate.”

“Dunno what good that is,” Geralt grumbled, but he grabbed the first aid kit off the wall and threw it at Jaskier anyway. He stepped into the bathroom and stripped off his clothes and armour - he could deal with that later. Geralt stood under the spray of hot water, wincing as it ran over his wounds.

He decided to forego the soap and shampoo, instead gently scrubbing himself down to get rid of the blood and dirt. The noonwraith had been in that house for a long time, and with folks too afraid to go inside, it had become unbearably dusty. When Geralt came out of the bathroom, dry and dressed, he found Jaskier had set up the first aid materials on the dining table with a chair pulled up next to it.

“Sit down, Geralt,” Jaskier said, and Geralt did just that.

***

Jaskier was a quick study, and Geralt soon became grateful for his help, even though he refused to admit it. Sometimes, Shani, who was a med student, had to help with treating Geralt’s wounds, although she often complained he was better off going to A&E. Geralt reiterated that there wasn’t much A&E could do for him - his potions were enough.

Every week or so, Geralt would sit in the kitchen reading through his course work while Jaskier helped stitch him back up. He was chatty as ever, but at least he got things done.

“Come with me to open mic night, Geralt, Essi and I are performing,” Jaskier would say (and Geralt did attend open mic night, lurking in the corner), or “have you seen Professor Rejk’s new tie? It’s hideous!” (and no, Geralt had not, but he made a special point of paying attention to Professor Rejk the next time he saw him).

It was an easy relationship, one akin to the bond Geralt shared with Eskel, and yet completely different. Jaskier chattered nonstop, but he didn’t make Geralt talk, and he knew when to leave a question alone. It was companionable and comfortable, and for Geralt that was enough.

***

In March, a bug started spreading across campus. Geralt’s classes shrank in size as students and professors alike ended up bedridden with a horrible cold. He thought nothing of it - he was a witcher, after all, and witchers were functionally immune to human diseases.

Poor Jaskier, unfortunately, was only human, and he did manage to get sick. It all started when Priscilla caught the bug from Essi (who had caught the bug from Valdo, who had caught the bug from a music professor). Jaskier spent his free time caring for his friend, and by the time the week was up, Priscilla was good as new, and Jaskier was sneezing nonstop.

“You look terrible,” Geralt told him one morning when he walked into the kitchen for breakfast. Jaskier lifted his head to sneeze at Geralt, then set it down back against his arms. Geralt wrinkled his nose. “Disgusting,” he said as he pulled the egg carton out of the fridge. “Want breakfast?”

“Yes please,” Jaskier said, sounding very congested. “I don’t want to go to class.”

“Then don’t,” Geralt said simply. He took the frying pan out of a cupboard and set it on the hob, switching it on.

“You know what, maybe that’s not a bad idea.” Jaskier eyed the eggs wistfully. “Can I have scrambled eggs?”

“Hmm.” Geralt retrieved a bowl from the drying rack and cracked in several eggs, then whisked them. He added milk and salt to the bowl, and oil to the frying pan. Jaskier watched with hungry eyes as he cooked the eggs.

“Best roommate ever,” Jaskier declared as Geralt placed a plate in front of him. Geralt hummed and served up his own eggs.

“Where are Shani and Priscilla?”

“Morning run,” Jaskier said between mouthfuls of egg. The two ate in companionable silence, broken only by Jaskier’s coughs and sniffles.

“Go back to bed,” Geralt said when they finished eating. He gathered their plates and filled the sink up.

“Will you bring me tea?” Jaskier asked teasingly.

“Hmm.” Geralt put on the kettle, and Jaskier laughed in delight.

“You will! I knew you were a big softie all along!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Geralt said, hiding his smile. “Go back to bed.”

“I’ll be waiting for my tea,” Jaskier said in a sing-song voice. ���Best flatmate in the world, bringing his invalid friend tea.”

“You’ve got a cold, not the plague,” Geralt grumbled, scrubbing their plates clean.

“You never know! Anyway, are you heading to class?”

“Hmm. I’ve got a contract after.” Putting the frying pan in the sink to soak, Geralt dumped a teabag and an unholy amount of sugar into a mug. He poured in hot water and passed the mug to Jaskier, who took it gratefully.

“I’ll be here to stitch you up after,” Jaskier said lightly. “Anyway, off with you, or you’ll be late. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. See you later.” And as Geralt walked out the front door, he couldn’t help but feel as though he had found a second home.

[tameila]

Bird Song.

Characters/Pairings: Mei Birdwhistle (OC), Pike Trickfoot, Scanlan Shorthalt, Grog Strongjaw (mentioned), Pikelan

Summary: [~2k words, post-VM, canon adjacent] Mei Birdwhistle, adventurer by trade and enthusiast by hobby, leaps on a chance to meet her idol, Scanlan Shorthalt.

Warnings: none Notes: my piece for Pikelan Day’s oracle Scanlan theme! this is an incredibly self-indulgent little AU, but I had a lot of fun writing it. I probably won’t post it on ao3 since it’s Pikelan-centric content is low, so please enjoy this lil tumblr exclusive! <3

The poster on the tavern’s community board was unremarkable. Lots of flowery black inked cursive on white parchment with little else to draw the eyes, so Mei Birdwhistle could understand why so many had overlooked it. After all, she had done the same two days in a row before, on her last afternoon in town, in one final attempt at finding a task interesting enough to keep her, she caught the address of the quest’s giver: Edge of church district. Past the bridge. Red brick cottage.

There could be no mistake who posted this notice.

With a gasp and a flash of adrenaline, Mei tore the paper from the board and tucked it away into the pocket of her travel cloak. No one rushed her. The ambient noise of the tavern at her back continued on unperturbed, but Mei’s heart beat a frantic song in her ear — a song of triumph and adventure.

She swept out the door as it opened. As a gnome from a predominately human city, she learned from a young age that doors were a problem for taller folk, and it was best to wait for them to be opened rather than exert herself unnecessarily. The couple whose legs she snuck between were less than pleased to be knocked askew, but she threw a smiled apology over her shoulder and ran on.

She pulled the poster from her cloak once she escaped the busy, long-leg infested thoroughfare and found a calmer street. With the knowledge that its lackluster design held greater promise, she dedicated herself to a more thorough read-through of the notice:

         FEELING BORED? UNFULFILLED?

         DO YOU HAVE A COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR DAD?

         TRY ADVENTURING!

         I am looking for a party of 3 or more novice-to-intermediate level adventurers to fetch a gem from Gatshadow. The gem is cool-colored, will probably have an iridescent shimmer or magical glow, and can fit comfortably in the palm of a gnome or similar-sized folk. May be cursed. Definitely haunted. Oh, and the gem is located in a wyvern den.

         FIRE RESISTANT ARMOR WILL NOT BE PROVIDED. PLEASE BRING YOUR OWN.

         ONE (1) SUPPORT MANDATORY.

         For further information…

Mei’s reading trailed off as she reached the address, having already committed it to heart, and her thoughts instead wandered to the newest challenge at hand. She did not have a party. Not currently, at least. She had left Bulwark and the others in Whitestone two weeks ago after they had told her about their plans to stay in the city for a while, build a headquarters of sorts, and bunkered down on their research.

Unlike them, she could not stop.

Not when there was so much world left to see.

But — they were not her first party, and they would not be her last.

“I wonder if Sasha’s in the area,” Mei muttered under her breath. Somewhere rattling in her pack, probably lodged between her spare flute reeds and lyre strings, was a sending stone. And, maybe, if she had not turned the corner and spotted the red brick cottage in the distance, she might have taken it out and sent a message, but — as it were — she saw her destination and any thought of rekindling fragile flames fell flat in the face of her resurging excitement.

She was about to meet Scanlan Shorthalt.

Her idol.

Her inspiration to take up the bardic call.

Very little could deter her path now, and Mei took off down the road with a jump and a click of her heels.

                                                                ❀❀❀

Pike Trickfoot was as beautiful as every story and legend described. Gentle eyes above a dazzling smile. A voice like a summer breeze. “Oh, hello,” was all she said, “Can I help you?” and Mei fell mute, the tips of her pointed ears burning.

With the paper held tight in her trembling hands, Mei presented it to Pike.

“You’re here about the quest?”

Mei nodded.

“Great! Come on in. Make yourself at home,” Pike said without a dip in enthusiasm, ushering Mei through the foyer to the living room. A whimsical dance of flute music drifted from somewhere deeper in the house, and Mei melted into an offered armchair, eased by the sound. Pike, with a quick “I’ll go get my husband”, smiled and disappeared up a nearby staircase.

Mei waited until her pounding footfalls faded before bouncing up from her seat. With rapt attention, she walked around the living room and snuck peeks at the other areas of the house. It had been some years since Mei left home, and many more years since her family had lived in a true gnomish home. Mei could see the bread starter on the kitchen windowsill from here, and she ran her fingers over the knick knacks on the mantelpiece. There was an empty space of wood flooring between the dining room and the living room, perfect for a spell of dancing after an evening meal. Mei’s fingers plucked at invisible strings as a plucky, folk tune sprung to mind as she continued her exploration.

Amongst the knick knacks and on either side of a statuette of Sarenrae were two wooden dolls, weather-worn and clearly hand-carved: one of Pike and the other — Well, she could only assume it was of Scanlan.

Huh. She’d never really thought about it before...that she didn’t know what Scanlan looked like, not truly, beyond the elaborate portraits he would include in his books.

“I carved those myself.”

Mei’s hand paused a centimeter away from the face of the Scanlan doll. She could feel the almost-sensation of contact on her fingertips. Flushed and embarrassed, Mei spun around to face Scanlan Shorthalt in all his true glory.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop. I just — Your home is beautiful, Mr. Shorthalt! It reminds me of my own childhood home, and — ”

Scanlan laughed and waved a hand as if dismissing the rest of her ramble and, as if by magic (and maybe it was), Mei felt the words leave her. “Please, call me Mr. Trickfoot, if you must. Scanlan is preferable. Shorthalt is my nom de plume.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Oh! Yes!” Mei hurried forward, holding out a hand to properly introduce herself as her upbringing would dictate. “My name is Mei Birdwhistle, sir — Ah, I mean, Scanlan.” When Scanlan took her offered hand, she shook his hand with — she would admit — a bit too much vigor. “I am an adventurer by trade and an enthusiast by hobby! I am so pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Birdwhistle, huh? Any relation to Ken Birdwhistle, the councilmen in Emon?”

“Yes, he’s my father!” A pleased warmth flooded Mei’s cheeks. How amazing! To think that The Scanlan Shorthalt knew her father’s name. “Have you met him?”

“Once, when he was sworn into his post,” Scanlan said, gesturing for her to take a seat in her abandoned armchair before sitting in the rocking chair by the fireplace. “Sometimes the powers that be in Tal’dorei seem to forget that I’m not the only gnome of note...but! Your father’s doing a lot of great work in Emon, so I won’t say it wasn’t a pleasure.”

Mei nodded. She couldn’t believe her father had never mentioned meeting Scanlan. She was still a young girl when her father moved them from the countryside to Emon. Then again, when she considered it...Things were often a blur in her adolescence...She wondered in her father had ever tried to seek Mrs. Trickfoot’s assistance with…

“...about the quest. However, I notice — ”

Mei came back to the moment with a chirped, “Hm?”

“Is the rest of your party on their way? Or, did you pick the short straw at the tavern?”

“Well…I don’t...Technically, I’m at the moment...gathering…”

Scanlan laughed. “Didn’t think that far ahead, huh?” and as much as it was accusatory, his tone was equally paternal, like he caught her with her hand in the cookie jar and not admitting that she came here just to meet him.

“I don’t have a party, no, but I can get one.”

“I wasn’t aware they were just handing them out these days.”

Mei grinned. “You would be surprised.”

Again, Scanlan laughed, and Mei followed his lead. First, she giggled her usual windchime of a laugh — short and sweet and contained, but she could not help but be memorized by the casual manner in which Scanlan lounged and laughed, his expression open and his voice filling the room.

She could not help but follow.

She threw her head back and laughed, which — if she were to reflect on the situation — was exactly where she went wrong. Half a laugh in, a spear of pain spiked through her chest, and her next laugh became half a cough and the next a cough half-laughed until she was coughing and wheezing and fumbling for her handkerchief.

“Um, Pike…”

There’s Scanlan’s voice and then the rattling of a tea tray somewhere beyond her before a gentle hand laid itself on her back, and Mei finally sucked in a breath that stayed. Meekly, with her handkerchief clutched tight to her chest, she looked up through her bangs at the gentle, smiling face of Pike Trickfoot and mumbled,

“Thank you.”

Pike did not remove her hand right away, a flicker of something flashing across her features, but... Then a teacup found its way to her hand, and Pike settled by Scanlan’s side and Scanlan resumed their conversation as if they’d never left off and...Maybe Mei was just being paranoid.

“I’ll be honest with you, Mei, I’m getting up there in years now,” Scanlan said, and Mei noted the wistful note to his voice and how, at his side, Pike muffled a laugh. She hid her own smile behind her teacup. “That’s why I’ve been more prone to outsourcing quests, you see, but...Well, how about I accompany you on this quest?”

Mei just barely saved her teacup from spilling as she jolted with surprise. “Y - You’ll come with me?”

“Sure!” Scanlan boomed and turned to Pike with an added, “My lovely wife and our friend, Grog, will come too, right?”

Pike nodded. “It will be nice to get out of the house, and — ” The door to the back garden opened, and Mei turned to see a goliath ducking through the doorway, stomping his boots and calling out his arrival. When she turned back to Pike and Scanlan, she saw Pike beaming widely, “That’ll be Grog. Here, how about we put this conversation on hold for a moment and start some dinner. You’re invited to stay, of course, Mei.”

Mei’s head spun, but her need to politely decline still came through, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a bother…”

“A bother? Nonsense!”

“We insist!”

Mei refused two more times before, with common courtesies accounted for, she smiled and agreed.

                                                               ❀❀❀

“So, you think it’s her?”

Pike and Scanlan stood in the kitchen, tucked away in a corner out of sight from the dinner table where Mei and Grog were playing a game of bolder-parchment-sheers over the last biscuit. Scanlan pawed at some dishes in the sink, eyes on the horizon beyond the window but his mind farther. To Pike’s question, he shrugged.

“You know how these visions are….You never know for sure, but Ioun hasn’t knocked on my head to tell me ‘no’, so I’ll take it that we’re moving in the right direction.”

Pike leaned into his side, her cheek squishing up against his shoulder. Under her touch, an until-then-noticed tension melts away with a sigh.

“The girl’s cursed, by the way.”

Scanlan groaned, folding forward to lean over the sink in defeat. “And, this is, I’m just going to assume here..No whim-wham-Greater Restoration-and bam?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

[moonlightstars16]

“I Am A Warrior!”

30 Days Connverse Challenge

Day 23 ~ Double Date

AN: Some of what your about to read may or may not have happen IRL with my friends. To my good friend and wifu.... I love you but no more drinking one and 2/3's bottle of wine. In the midst of getting our hair colored. Having bleached hair before coloring doesn't count of 'Now's the time to get drunk'. Also all of my friends and myself are responsible when we drink. I was sober to handle them but seriously ya'll.

Don't drink. Don't.

If your over 21(or whatever legal drinking age you are where you live), then please do so responsibly. If your the sober friend(always have at least 1-2), make sure you know what to do, never leave anyone to go pee(unless you did it before the drinking started) not even for two minutes and also HIDE THE ALCOHOL OR BETTER YET GET RID OF IT! And don't drink in the middle of having your hair bleached and/or colored.

"I got this. I GOT this." Connie tried standing up but kept stumbling to the floor. Getting closer and closer to the kitchen.

"Connie...Connie no!" Steven spoke in a concerned warning tone. Walking hesitantly to her side to try and get her to back away from the fridge.

"I got this!.....I am a WARRIOR!" With that she stumbled down laughing on the tile. Patricia was laying between the living room and hallway floors. Trying to get onto the couch. About ten percent sober than the rest of her at the moment.

Days prior Steven and Connie had plans for a double date with Patricia and Daniel. This was a way for Steven to become acquainted with them better. They met up in a more casual restaurant. Connie decided to dress up a bit by wearing a cute floral blouse with jean shorts, boots and her hair half up/down style. Steven was in his normal ensemble but made sure it looked neat.

After getting seated, Connie took the reigns and began the conversation. Starting with the obvious 'how are you's?' and things like that. Shifting to cram school for a little bit. Which lead to the night at the roller rink and fusions. Steven was timid at first then like a natural, he was conversing so smoothly like he did when he was fourteen.

"I never thought I would be able to do it because of me being half human. But I wasn't thinking much about it when I heard this one" he nudged her shoulder with his own with a smile "was a bit to shy to dance in front of others. So I wanted her to enjoy the feeling without the pressure and asked her to dance."

"After a few minutes I accidentally bumped into him and grabbed on to make sure he didn't fall. Within a second we were laughing like no one's business and the next thing we new, we were fused." Connie finished putting a lock of hair behind her ear. Steven squeezing her hand while looking at her. A slight pink blush tinted his cheeks.

"Wow that's so romantic and adorable!" Patricia sighed as she pushed Daniel's shoulder. Making him wince and rubbing his arm.

"What was that for?!"

"Boy you better step up your game!"

"I suppose you forgot who took you to the beach last week and to a private cove by a cliff and we-"

"Oh right!" Putting a hand over his mouth, cutting him off from the rest of the sentence. Both of them laughing at the mere thought.

The rest of dinner was so easy and comfortable. Discussing many topics and various activities they could all do afterwords. Deciding it would be great to go back to Patricia and Daniel's apartment and watch a movie. Both of the gals wanting to get drinks before hand since they were all having fun.

Daniel was on board with Steven hesitantly following. He never had a real, drink-drink, before. Alcohol was something he didn't know how it would affect his magic. But he was reassured since Connie was there that things would be okay. Little did they know that he would be more than alright.

The girls went in Patricia's car while Daniel went in Stevens Dondai to get the beverages. Thankfully both were of age so everything was okay. Getting a couple bottles of wine and one package of fruity drinks with only five percent alcohol. The girls went to grab bleach and hair coloring dye for there hair. It was a choice they made on a whim and were excited for it. Also grabbing cookie dough, oreos and brownie mix to make the ultimate brownie combo.

Once back at the apartment, they made the sweet dessert and then picked the movie while it was baking. The girls went back to the bathroom to begin bleaching. Daniel did it for them since he worked part time in a hair salon owned by his mom. Both wanted hair streaks instead of doing it all over. Steven watched in curiosity since he never saw anything like this in person. They all were vibing to music as Daniel finished up the last bit of Connie's hair and wrapping it in foil.

Walking out they began to watch the movie while waiting thirty to forty-five minutes till they could wash out the bleach. Steven set a second timer on his phone for that alone. Trying not to make jokes with both women glaring at him to not even dare think about it. He chuckled and raised up his hands in surrender and just focused on the film.

By the time ten minutes had passed, the package of four fruity drinks were gone and one wine bottle was empty. Steven went to check on the dessert and take it out. Letting it cool down before cutting it up. It was also in a large container so there was so much of it. He smiled at the sweet scent reached up around his senses.

"Uh Steven, you better get out here!" Rushing he walked out and gasped. Both girls were having a giggling fit and the other bottle of wine was halfway gone. Immediately he grabbed the glasses out of their hands when he had the chance and took away the wine bottle and hid it on top of the fridge. Connie and Patricia were beginning to feel the affects but still were aware.

Steven's phone went off and both him and Daniel led them to the bathroom to wash their hair and get it colored. Patricia doing a midnight blue and Connie a bright pink to match her man. Another thirty minutes later they rinsed the newly colored hair. Daniel drying it and styling both as they admired and began complimenting each other. Steven sighed and smiled at his jam bud as well.

"You look beautiful Connie. And you as well Patricia."

"Ahh thhhankssss SSSSSteven" She replied wobbling all over. Patricia nodded while doing the same. Except holding onto the bathroom counter for balance. With one glance both boys had the same look. The girls were finally drunk. It just took awhile for the affects and the buzz to catch up with them.

"Daniel? What should we do?" shrugging his shoulders Daniel reach out for Patricia with Steven following suit for Connie. They each grabbed their partner's hand and lead them out of the bathroom. Needing them to sit and focus on something to get them calm. However that didn't help when they fell over because of something that wasn't even funny. But they were laughing in hysterics.

That's was the rest of the evening. Steven trying to get the wine bottle out of Connie's hand (too late since all the contents were gone) and healing her burnt hand from the hot brownie pan. Daniel trying to get Patricia to sit on the couch and try to focus on the screen. Getting coffee for her to calm her down. Both boys soon found themselves with the girls on their laps passed out with pieces of the epic brownie already in their stomachs. Finishing up the film before Steven left with his girlfriend.

"Well thanks for letting us come over." He whispered to Daniel, carrying an unconscious Connie in his arms. "Even if it ended up this way."

"Well we did have fun...and I got videos for blackmail if you want it." He smirked and showed from an hour ago where Patricia was singing 'Edge Of Glory' by Lady Gaga while trying to dance(or get up really) on the coffee table. Connie was sprawled out with empty bottles from earlier around her on the floor. Steven smirked and tried not to laugh, feeling a bit guilty for even seeing this. But he was too tired to think about it in depth right now.

After they got back to his house, he slipped her in his bed. Taking off her shoes and making sure she was comfortable. Smiling adoringly as she snuggled into his star pillow like a young child. With a sigh he went to grab aspirin and a cup of water. She was going to need it after all. He was sure she would like his healing powers right now.

However she also made a big deal of only using it in emergencies. For drunk Connie he figured this was a great lesson for her to learn. Over excessiveness of this sort was not okay. Not unplanned at least. Grabbing a mug he got coffee as well because it was her favorite treat and something she needed for the upcoming hangover. Something he wasn't looking forward too.

[tarithenurse]

Cookies and Chaos - Halloween Challenge

Pairing: Loki x reader Prompt: 10 - “Okay, who’s raising the dead when I’m trying to sleep.” Contents: Quoted lyrics from James Brown’s “I feel good”, maybe some swearing, angst and panic, sweet and fluffy compensation, hints at smut. A/N: I’m not an expert on Halloween because it’s relatively new in the country I live in. Also I don’t bake because…the results are frankly disastrous. Still I hope this little treat is okay ;) Thanks to Devilbat for creating a challenge with fun prompts!

Cookies and Chaos

Bustling around in the kitchen with the earplugs delivering your favourite tunes, it’s hard to keep the pessimism up. The scents of pumpkin cookies is starting to spread through the Tower’s shared kitchen as a sweet compensation for the creepy decorations Loki full-heartedly has adopted the use of – the entire holiday is perfectly suited for the god’s esthetic. Perfect, the time of year and doubly so Asgardian. Loathe as you might be to admit it, a huge motivation for your efforts today are fueled by him and an irrational craving for his approval and…well why think of his love when it’s out of reach?

*Woah!* The next song starts with a cheer that makes your hips swing. Oh yeah, you feel good. Brushing with milk and lemon. *Like sugar and spice* Sprinkles of cinnamon sugar. The “wizard hats” are ready to go into the oven with a promise of chocolate-oozing perfection.

You gather the dirty utensils, each item plonking into the sink on time with the beat as it fills with hot water. Soap bubbles dance on the surface, and you mimic them through the room to make sure nothing’s forgotten.

*And when I hold you –* James Brown croons and you join, “- in my aaaarms, my love can’t do me no ha-arm –“ The dish brush is a perfect mic as you and Mister Brown have a private kitchen-party. “And I feeeeeel ni-ice –“ You twirl joyfully.

You twirl joyfully straight into the hard chest of Loki.

Shit! You were supposed to have kept quiet, the guy’d been called in last minute by Strange for something and you’d promised yourself to let him sleep in after getting back at 7AM. Glancing up at his face with the perfectly sharp cheekbones, you can see how annoyed he is.

Cool hands reach out and pluck the music from your ears. “I woke up to a ruckus, little mortal, and I thought to myself…’Who is raising the dead when I’m trying to sleep?’”

Partially ashamed of having been singing out loud, but mostly pissed at his belittling comment on the quality, you ignore the voice in the back of the head which tells you to be meek. God or not, don’t come and insult me on my singing. Not that it is good, but it’s one of the things that brings you joy and makes you feel normal.

“Well, I’m sorry, bud!” You poke his chest with a bubbled finger (only then realizing the man is shirtless). “But I happen to be enjoying some baking time while singing. There are no death rituals or ghouls or whatever here…just delicious treats.”

An eyebrow arches and his calculative gaze takes in you and the surroundings. Oh damn. A smirk, dangerous and tantalizing, forms to show those perfect teeth and you know you’ve gone much too far. If only you could go back, but it’s too late now.

“Is that so?” he purrs, “the sounds I heard could be the wails of the souls eternally trapped in damnation…however a real summoning ritual would be much…much…different.”

With a snap of the fingers, the light leaves the room even though it’s the middle of the day and plunges the place into an unnatural darkness only broken by an acid-green glow from Loki’s hands. What? Is he for real?? A pattern appears on the floor as he motions with a sweep for you to stay still, and you do because you’re much too nervous to step on the glowing runes. Suddenly you recall how Thor once talked about Hela, the goddess of death, being their sister. Tony’s gonna kill me.

“You mortals have always been obsessed with death. With what lies beyond life,” the god hisses into your ear, raising the hairs on your body, “You do not fathom the true power of necromancy.” Deep-purple, translucent blobs are rising from the floor. “A few have been close to harness it but we, your gods, know the secrets.” Each blob is a skull that grins at you with empty eye sockets and clicking jaws and you know Loki has lost his mind and gone back to his old ways again. “The living do not control the dead…the dead tolerates the mortals.”

Step by step, you back away from the menacing god and the skeletons reaching for you with the boney hands. Poisonous colours flicker like demonic fire meant to melt the flesh from your bones, the heat already too much. But Loki advanced. Tall. Powerful. Dangerous.

“No…” It’s just a whimper leaving your lips. “Y-you can’t…you’re not a necro-“

“Necromancer? Perhaps not,” he grins menacingly, “but do not forget who my sister is or the purpose I had when I first came to this measly, little planet.”

There’s a gleam in his eyes you’ve never seen before in real life…but now it’s clear. The footage from Stuttgard. The madness is the same and it’s a craze that cannot be reasoned with, forcing you to turn to flee…right into Loki’s open arms. Thrashing in gut-freezing panic, your heart threatens to stop as his grip tightens around you and every thought in your mind is crushed with the exception of one: I just wanted him to make him happy.

Laughter withers, overgrown by soft murmurs – your name, apologies – and the embrace is no longer aggressively possessive but rather a gentle rocking interspersed by soothing strokes. Gone is the darkness along with the unnatural fire and the skeletons that had seemed to lust for your soul or…or…

“Shhh, my dove, shhh,” Loki kisses the words against the top of your head, “I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you so, please forgive me.” He’s cradling you, sat on the floor with you in his lap. “I beg, do not cry…I love your smile and your voice…I love your wits and companionship…please forgive me.”

The words tremble, causing your to quiet down with surprise at the realization that you’ve never heard him sound so broken before. This is not a trick. No, Loki apparently does care deeply about your wellbeing, that he can see the error in his ways, and the normally sharp-tongued god is searching for a way to say that…

“With my life I will protect you and shield you from harm…I love you.”

What? The world stops along with your heart and breathing. Too afraid to believe it’s true, you force yourself to find his gaze and be swept into the whirl of pain, fear, hope, truth. Love. Nose to nose, forehead to forehead, his sincerity permeates the air you breath and seeps into your lungs, diffuses into your body to change away every lingering grain from the living nightmare he’d conjured, leaving behind a warmth that stands in contrast to the cool chest you’re pressed against. Reaching for his jaw with a trembling hand, you act without thinking and kiss him. Slow at first and so light that lips barely meet, but then you feel the response shudder his body and the press deepens to allow Loki’s tongue taste the seem before delving past your lips. Tasting. Exploring.

Allowing himself to accept reality, the god effortlessly repositions you to straddle his legs stretched out on the floor and he allows you to set the pace, to push him into a lying position free for you to admire while your hands create ripples of goosebumps and your lips swallow the softest of sighs.

Loki’s eyes are closed when you glance away for the briefest moment. “Hold the thought.”

A quick maneuver, a few steps, and the oven’s clock beeps just as you grab the mitt to pull out the finished pastries to cool. Oh! Cool hands skirt your waist, already skimming underneath the shirt.

“Do…am I forgiven?” Loki whispers in your ear and you can’t help but roll your eyes a bit because isn’t it obvious?

Letting him wait, you finish securing the kitchen from any mishaps in case you get distracted (while trying to stay as close to Loki as possible so he can feel your body against his). When you finally do turn to face him, his eyes are dark with need, but brows pinched with insecurity.

“You still need to prove just how sorry you are, my love.”

Your words are absorbed slow enough to see the stages he passes through before he pulls you close and steels your breath away with his lips, tongue, hands, and…oh god.

[natashasbanner]

Cookies At 3am

Harry finds Macy in the kitchen in the middle of the night, baking of all things. He finds it terribly endearing.

A/N: Day 4: Domestic Fluff for Hacy Week. Please enjoy :D

Also on AO3

X

Harry stirred and groggily rolled over, instinctively reaching out for Macy. But his hand was met with only cool bedsheets where she should have been laying. He blinked his eyes and let them adjust to the dark while he listened for any sound in the quiet house for any sign of where she might have gone. 

He caught the slightest clanking of dishes from downstairs and pushed himself up and threw the blankets back from his legs. He tapped his phone where it sat on the nightstand and squinted against the light to check the time. Just after three in the morning. What she could she possibly be doing in the kitchen so late? 

He grabbed his robe from the door on his way out of the room and shoved his arms through the sleeves as he descended the stairs. The delicious scent of cookies baking filled his nostrils as he rounded the corner toward the kitchen and he smiled to himself. He stopped in the entryway of the kitchen and took a moment to take in the scene in front of him. 

Macy had he back to him, stirring ingredients in a bowl at the counter beside the sink. The counters were a mess, ingredients haphazardly scattered over any flat surface available. On the island, two trays sat with already baked cookies and there was another in the oven. 

She was swaying slightly as she continued her mixing, completely oblivious to his presence. That’s when he noticed the wire of her headphones leading into the pocket of the apron she wore over her pajamas. 

She stopped stirring suddenly and moved over to the oven to take the cookies out. When she turned to set the tray on the island, she finally noticed Harry standing there. She didn’t startle like he’d expected her, but there was surprise coloring her features. 

“Was I being too loud?” she asked, taking one of her earbuds out. 

Harry shook his head and crossed the kitchen to stand on the other side of the island. “Not at all.”

“Then what are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered, tilting his head to one side. “How long have you been down here?” 

Macy shrugged, grabbing a spatula to transfer the cookies from the pan to the cooling racks with the others. “About an hour or so,” she said, glancing up to meet his eyes for a moment. 

“You could have woken me,” he said, reaching out to take one of the already cooled cookies. Macy made a face and swatted his hand away with the spatula. 

“Just because I couldn’t sleep doesn’t mean we both have to suffer.” 

Harry chuckled. “I’d hardly consider it suffering to spend a few hours enjoying your baking.”

He reached for a cookie again, but this time she walked around the island to grab his hand. She raised her eyebrows, daring him to try and take a cookie again. Harry held her gaze, a smirk curling over his lips, but he eventually relented, closing his fingers around hers. 

“At least let me help,” he said softly, leaning into Macy’s personal space. 

Her expression softened and she smiled. “Can you put the last batch in the oven while I clean up?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” 

She rolled her eyes, but the grip she had on his hand loosened and she took a step back. He stepped around her to look into the mixture on the counter. She already had another sheet pan ready so all he had to do was portion out the dough. He set to work while she cleaned up around him, putting everything back where it belonged. 

By the time he put pan in the oven and set a timer, Macy had finished cleaning and was at the island putting the finished cookies into tupperware containers. He stepped behind her and slid his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

“Was there any particular reason you couldn’t sleep?” he asked. 

She shook her head, the ends of her hair, which she’d pulled back into a ponytail, tickling his cheek.

“No,” she said, leaning back against his chest. “But I didn’t want to wake you with my tossing and turning.” 

He turned his head to place a soft kiss behind her ear. “I wouldn’t have minded.” 

“I know,” she said, turning her head slightly. 

“Why so many cookies?” 

She blew out a breath and continued packing the cookies away in their containers. “After the first batch I figured I could make enough for everyone to take some to work.” 

“But I’m not allowed to have one now?” He felt her lips turn up against his cheek and couldn’t help but smile. 

“You can have a fresh one from the oven,” she said. “If you think you can wait that long.” 

“I think I can manage,” he said with a chuckle. “What are you listening to?”  

One of her earbuds was still dangling loosely over the counter and he took it and put it in his own ear. The song that was playing was familiar, something he’d heard her listening to countless times. He started swaying with the music, closing his eyes as Macy moved with him. 

“I really like this song,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her cheek. “Dance with me?” 

She turned in his arms, careful of the headphone wire, and slipped her arms around his middle and clasped her hands together at the small of his back. 

They stayed like that for the rest of the song, slowly swaying in the middle of the kitchen. The next song was drastically different and a much faster pace, but Harry was loathe to break their embrace. 

Macy chuckled softly and Harry leaned back to look at her face. “What’s so funny?” 

“I was thinking about what Mel and Maggie would say if they saw us right now.” 

“Good thing they’re asleep then,” he said, imagining the colorful comments and teasing they’d no doubt come up with. 

Harry yawned and leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. 

She moved her hand to caress his cheek. “Go back to bed, I won’t be much longer down here.” 

“I don’t mind waiting,” he said. “I was promised cookies after all.” 

“I’ll leave you down here if you fall asleep.” 

He chuckled and pressed a short kiss to her lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

The song changed again, but halfway through, the oven timer sounded. Harry pulled the headphone from his ear and hurried over to pull the tray from the oven. He set it on the counter in front of Macy who already had a spatula in hand.

“Which one?” she asked. 

Harry smirked and pointed to the largest one in the center of the pan. Macy rolled her eyes playfully but put the cookie on a napkin for him. He broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. 

“Delicious,” he said, breaking off another piece while she put the rest on the cooling rack. “Try some.” 

He held out the piece and she opened her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment before smiling. 

“Really good,” she said. “If I do say so myself.” 

She went back to putting everything away and Harry finished off the cookie. Macy walked back over and wrapped her arms around his middle. Harry ran his hands up her back and chuckled softly. 

“Ready to go back to bed?” He asked, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. 

She yawned and nodded, her eyelids drooping heavily. “Yeah.” 

“Let’s go,” he said, taking one of her hands in his and leading the way to the stairs. 

Macy was asleep before her head hit the pillow, but Harry was wide awake. He held her close, unable to keep the smile from his face. Everyday, or middle of the night in this case, he found more things to love about Macy and he couldn’t be happier.

[superhero-daugthers11]

Amy`s Halloween Surprise

Halloween was always Amy`s favorite holiday. Her and her brother always loved to dress up as their favorite cartoon and story book characters. When Amy was six she came up with an idea for  Halloween costumes that she knew her parents would love. The costume was carefully planned and thought out since that September. She had to make sure her parents didnt have a clue, while also enlisting some help from other adults.

The week before Halloween, the Rogers family sat in the kitchen for breakfast. Steve sat across from the high chair as he feed Amy`s little brother, Phillip. Phillip liked to play with his food more than to eat it. He laughed and babbled, while also throwing the food off of the high chair.

Steve groaned in exgustion as he picked up the toddler`s bowl from the ground and cleaned up the spilled food. This had been the fifth time this morning that the child had spilled his food. Steve got a new bowl and poured in some cherrios.

"Come on, phillip, please eat!" Steve plead with the baby, as he held a spoon full of cherrios to the baby.

The baby swung his arm and knocked the spoon out of his dad`s hand, Phillip then began to laugh.

“Peg!” Steve shouted. “Your turn!”

Peggy stood at the doorway with Amy.

“You have everything for school, love?” Peggy asked.

“Yeah, mom. I`m all set.”

Peggy kissed her daugther`s head and then hugged her softly.

Amy turned away from her mother and began to walk out the door and down the porch steps.

“Amy!” Peggy called out.

Amy turned and looked back at her mother.

“ Halloween is in a few days and you havent told me what costume I should make you.” Peggy complained. “You said you wanted to do a special costume with your brother, but If you dont pick something soon I might not be able to make it for you in time.”

“We already got the costumes done. Dont worry about it.” She told her.

Peggy laughed.

“How is that-?”

“Dont worry about it,” Amy repeated. “Its a surprise! You and dad are gonna love it!”

Peggy smiled and rolled her eyes.

The day before Halloween, Amy raced off the bus. Instead of going straight home, as usual, she made a stop at the neighbors house. The home of an old woman name Edna, who was a friend of the family. Edna lived alone. Her children and grandchildren lived in another state and often didnt find the time to visit. Steve and Peggy welcomed the old woman into their family. They helped her when she needed chores done or a ride somewhere. They also ended up welcoming her to family functions and holidays.

Amy knocked on the door excitedly. When Edna answered and saw the child, a big smile grew upon the old woman`s face. Amy hugged the old woman`s waist. Then looked up at her with a huge grin.

“Hi Aunt Edna, Are the costumes ready?”

the woman chuckled.

“Of course they are, just like i promised.” Edna spoke as she patted the child`s head.

Edna ushered the child into the house. Then Edna began to make herself and Amy some hot chocolate, knowing they both shared a sweet tooth. Amy sat across from Edna, Amy kicked her feet back and forth excitedly under the table. 

 "Nobody is going to have the same costumes as me and Phillip, so we will win the school costume contest for sure!” Amy boasted. “Our costumes will be the most creative and the coolest ever! You always make the best clothes aunt Edna. Remember the dress you made me for Christmas? I wore it to the school dance and everyone said it was the most beautiful dress they ever seen."

“Your mother had mentioned that when she was over last week.” Edna replied.

Edna smiled, it felt good to be a appreciated, to feel needed. Her family was all grown up and they didnt see a use for her anymore.Since she was no longer helpful, her family saw no use in spending time with her. Never call, never visit...they were always too busy. The rogers family was never too busy for her, they always came running anytime she asked for help. It went both ways though, if they needed someone to watch the kids or help with recipe or advice Edna was there for them. 

"Then one year you made me a sweater with a Dalmatian on it and that got a lot of compliments too." Amy rambled on. “Oh and the doll you made me with the red hair? My friend said it looked just like the ones in the store only nicer.”

Edna sat down with two hot chocolates.

"Where does your mother think you are?" Edna questioned.

"Dont worry she knows im here” Amy shrugged.  “I told mom that we should make peanut butter cookies. I made sure that we made too many, then as expected she told me to bring the extra over for you. She knows peanut butter is your favorite." Amy goes into her back pack, at her side, then pulled out a box of homemade cookies.

Edna chuckled.

Amy pulled off the lid of the cookie box and took a cookie.

"Before I forget," Edna spoke as reached into her pocket. " I wanted to give you the pictures you gave me back. Now that i finished the costumes, I figured you would want them back."

Edna placed the photos on the table. One was a photo of Peggy, dressed in a blue long sleeve dress. She wore red high heeled shoes and a bright red hat. The other photo was of Steve dressed in his captain America uniform, from back in the war.

"So why dress up as them for Halloween? And why these outfits?" Edna asked.

"Mamma and daddy are my heros. I wanna be just like them someday!” Amy announced. “As tough and smart like mom, but also kind and creative like dad." Amy picked up the picture of her mother. "This one is on her first day of work. She fights bad guys and solves crimes! Mom says she was the only girl on the team, but she was smarter and a better fighter than them all!"

Edna smiled. That didn't surprise her she knew Peggy used to be a solider and she was told that Peggy was a cop now. She could only imagine the kind of hardships and discrimination she must of through in her field just for being a woman. Edna once saw Peggy fight off a burglar who tried to broke into Edna home, Edna couldn't believe the type of fighting skills she had.

"Dad was chosen to be apart of a special program in the war were he was....i mean got to work with Captain America."

"Steve was Captain America?" Edna shouted in shock, as she took the picture and looked more closely at it.

"No no no I said he worked with him!! That's what I meant! Don't tell dad, I wasnt supposed to tell anyone!"

Edna chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me, Amelia." She stood up and walked over to the child to hug her. She then kissed her head.

"Your parents are extraordinary people. Not just because of the things they have done in their careers. They are so kind to everyone they meet and they always do the right thing. They even showed kindness to a lonely hag like me. I had no one before your family moved here, my family forgot me. Your parents welcomed me into your family. They pick up groceries for me and help me with the chores i cant do myself around the house. I know it doesn't seem like much but it means the world to me, to have friends... To have a family again." Amy hugged Edna's waist.

"You will always be family, aunt Edna." Amy told her. "You mean a lot to us too. Mom doesn't trust most people, but she trust you. I trust you too, there's a lot of moms on the block who know how to sew and stuff well. I asked you cause I knew you would keep my secret. Plus this gave me an excess to spend time with you."

"Darling, you don't need an excuse to visit, you can come over whenever you like."

After spending dome time with Edna she took the costumes home for the next day. Halloween came and Amy woke up early and got in her costume. She tried to wake up her brother and quietly put him in his costume but that didnt work out to well. She stood on a chair and tried to lift the baby out of his cradle. The baby cried loudly waking up Steve and Peggy. The two rushed into the room and ran to the cradle. Peggy grabbed the child from her daughter.

"Amelia Sarah Rogers what on earth are you doing!?" Peggy yelled. .

"You know your not allowed to hold Philip unless you are with an adult." Steve reprimanded. "You could have dropped him!"

"I just wanted to get him in his Halloween costume, before you guys woke up." Amy told them. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

Steve noticed the Captain America costume in the cradle and then took notice of Amy outfit, of which she was dressed like her mother.

"That doesn't mean you get to break the rules!" Peggy told her daughter. "Babies are very fragile and whatever surprise you have could have waited! We have rules for a reason, Amy!”

"Im sorry, i just wanted to do something special for you guys!" Amy answered as she pouted with sad expression on her face. "The school decided this year, us kids, were supposed to dress up as there favorite heroes for the school costume parade and I choose you guys. No one else can even compare to how awesome you guys are! I heard all the stories you guys were like unstoppable and so cool! You guys always defeated the bad guy and mom still saves world and keeps it safe everyday. What makes it even better is that I to be your kid and spend everyday together and we can create our own adventures.”

Peggy looked over to Steve, her heart touched by her Daugherty words.They both shared a proud grin and Steve picked up his daughter. He kissed her cheek and she hugged his neck.

"Your dad and I are your favorite heroes?" Peggy asked in shock.

Amy nodded. Peggy kissed Amy`s head.

“You are the sweetest child.” Peggy told her. “You never stop amazing me!”

[definenormalifyoucan]

Where We Started

It's been a while huh? I have no idea where this came from but I actually really love it. There's slight angst. Mutual pining. Very light language. This. Is. Not. Edited. Heavily. I apologize.

Pairing: Logicality/background prinxiety

Word count: 3128

Lets begin, shall we?

It started with a smile. Or maybe it was the way his eyes lit up when he talked on about constellations and planets. Maybe it was all the times he unexpectedly made clever puns.

Patton was always a sucker for puns and pretty eyes.

Without warning, with every fiber of his being, Patton fell. He remembers when he first realized. Logan had been reading in the common room in the mind palace, eyes dancing across the page while he gently held the book. It was on astronomy....or was it just Alice in Wonderland? Patton didn't remember.

What he did remember was walking into the room with a tray of cookies and just freezing. Logan was no different, but Patton had come to the realization in that moment that he wanted nothing more than to be in Logans arms. To hear his heart beat under his ear, feel the rise and fall of his chest. Patton blushed madly at his sudden realization and inadvertently stumbled over his own feet when he turned to escape the confrontation he knew would come if Logan saw his thoughts on his face. He fell into the doorjam with an oof, air escaping his lungs in a rush while he struggled to not drop any of the cookies.

Out of the corner of his eye, Patton had seen Logans head snap up. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern and he had opened his mouth, presumably to ask if Patton was alright. But he had already fled up the stairs with the cookies in hand and ready to die from either embarrassment or his suddenly weak legs.

Presently, Patton was laying like a starfish on Virgil's bed while the anxious side was thrown over his middle and scrolling aimlessly on his phone. They were both quiet for about an hour, the only sounds their breaths and the tapping noises coming from Virgils phone. Patton didn't know if he was grateful for it or wanted it to end.

It had been half a year since the emotional side had come to that fateful conclusion and he'd done....absolutely nothing about it. Besides making a complete fool of himself whenever he was near Lo. Patton groaned, nearly smacking his metaphorical son upside the head in attempts to clutch at his own hair. He was driving himself crazy, being at the core of Thomas's feelings meant he had more than enough for himself as well. Currently with the feeling of wanting being the most popular.

With a sigh, Virgil put his phone on the bedside table and sat up. With a knowing and pointed look he said "Pat, man, just tell him. You're going crazy thinking about all possibilities, leave the fantasies and theatrics to Ro."

He wasn't exactly wrong. Patton had had many a thought about what it'd be like to just....be with Logan. He dreamed up different scenarios, half the time just staring off into space daydreaming about made up dates and conversations with the logical side. He did feel a bit like Roman at this point, but to be fair the romantic side was obviously pining after the ever oblivious Virgil.

Knowing full well his face looked like a strawberry, Patton slid his hands from his head to rub at his cheeks before pulling himself to sit against the headboard. In this position, Patton and Virgils legs crossed. He focused on them while he collected his racing thoughts.

"Kiddo, I know I'm suppose to be the emotionally wise one between us sides, but it's easier helping someone else with their feelings. Ya know?" He closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry. "I love Lo, Virge. I love him. He's brilliant, and kind, awkwardly adorable. He's not the emotionless robot he says, but me? Im too emotional. He couldn't love me." Openeing his shining eyes, he turns them to Virgil. "I don't want him to pull away. What we have now....it's enough, even if I'm not." He looked away, tears tracking down his red face.

Virgil hated seeing Patton this upset. Instantly he was upset. He was pissed at Logan for making Pat even think he wasn't enough. At this moment, he mostly hated how oblivious Patton could be. With an annoyed growl Virgil pulled his legs out from Pat, careful not to hurt him.

As soon as his feet hit the floor, he started pacing and wound his arms behind his back. Ignoring the hurt look on Patton's face Virgil said, "Patton I'm telling you this because I love you and I hate seeing you cry--"

"You hate crying in general," Patton cut in with a pathetic sounding hiccup.

"Not the point. My point is this: you are an oblivious, lovable, goofball. Logan follows you around the kitchen like a fu--"

"Ahem"

"Freaking puppy. He gives you goo goo eyes when he thinks no ones looking. He's basically a statue when you smile at him. Or talk to him." He stopped pacing and faced the constantly red Pat. His eyes were wide and filled with disbelief at his words. "I'm pretty sure the feelings are mutual, Pat," Vigil deadpanned.

Patton was silent for a long moment. It was a hard idea to wrap his head around, but once he had he could feel a smile creep onto his face and couldn't help the hopeful joy that filled him. He lauched himself at his dark, strange son and started squealing. His giggles remained as Virgil peeled him off. They started planning how Patton was going to confess and he couldn't have felt more excited.

Little did the dynamic duo know, Logan had heard all of Patton's speech. He wasn't eavesdropping, per se. Virgil's door had been ajar slightly and he had happened passed it. Multiple times. Only after seeing Patton trudge gloomily in did he feel the need to wander back and forth between the kitchen and his room for this or that.

After hearing how Patton felt, hearing him sniffle and hiccup, he felt wretched. How could he have made the charming and cheerful side feel so low? He didn't deserve to have Patton's love.

Patton loved him.

This was also a concept he could not wrap his head around. After hearing how Patton felt he wasn't enough, preposterous, Logan set out to make things right. Even if it means I'll make a complete fool out of myself by doing so, he thought as he marched his way to his room.

Once there he paced for a long time, trying to figure out how he could make this right. Obviously he couldn't just tell Patton how he felt, he deserved more than a stuttered quick confession. Logan wouldn't doubt it if Patton rejected him on the spot after he made him feel as if he wasn't already more than enough.

With a frustrated sigh Logan threw himself into a chair. After carefully placing his glasses on his desk he held his head in his hands. Come on Logic, he thought bitterly, you're suppose to be smarter than this. What does someone like Patton even see in me?

Pattons description of him came tumbling around his head: Brilliant. Kind. Adorable.

At this moment he didn't feel like any of these things. He felt broken, slow, and horrid. Patton was such a precious and beautiful soul, more so than the others. Granted they all looked slightly similar as embodiments of Thomas's personality. They all had slight differences here in the mind palace, and Patton was the best of them.

Logan's mind took him back several months prior to this shocking revelation. He was reading Alice In Wonderland on the couch in the common room, the scent of cookies hung high in the air as Patton had just gotten them out of the oven to cool.

Logan had struggled to keep his eyes on his book while Patton twirled about the kitchen during his cookie making process. However afterwards, he could feel the heavy weight of eyes on him and could see the look of shock on Patton's face as he stood at the entrance of the room.

This was where Logan's downfall started, by simply one glance at Patton. Even without looking straight towards him, Logan was struck by how utterly beautiful he was.

Of course then Logan was doubting whether or not he had accidentally stated his thoughts aloud because Patton suddenly flushed and rammed straight into the doorframe. Logan opened his mouth to apologize for scaring Patton. To his astonishment he didn't even have time for that before Patton had launched himself, stumbling, up the stairs.

Because of this Logan was sure Patton hated the mere thought of Logan's affectionate emotions. But with what has recently come to light, he could not believe his luck. And yet....

With a sigh he dropped his hands to his sides and leaned back until his head rested on the backing of the chair. He could still smell the scent of the cookies from that day, still see how soft Patton had looked holding the tray of.....

Thats it, Logan thought. He leapt up and strided his way towards his door. He started once he realized the halls were dim. He didn't realize how long he had been preoccupied in his thoughts, but he didn't let the lateness deter him from his goal.

Quietly, he made his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He slowed as he got nearer and heard music playing softly. Peaking in he suppressed a startled laugh at the sight before him.

Quickly pulling out his phone he recorded Roman doing what appeared to be a mating dance towards Virgil, only stopping out of courtesy once the started to kiss. He waited for them to be done just outside the kitchen. He wasn't really hiding, not really, but he was leaning against the wall just outside the light spilling from the doorway. At least he'd come out of this with either decent blackmail thanks to Roman's ridiculous dancing or something endearing to give them later down the line.

Once they vacated the kitchen, Logan pushed off the wall and set to work. He wasn't too gifted in the art of baking, but he could at least make a simple sugar cookie recipe with the help of google. At least he thought he could. But after four failed attempts at a recipe with the shortest ingredients list known to man, he was begging to lose hope.

He stood staring at the mess, fatigue setting in his eyes and doubt creeping up his spine. Then he remembered Patton's laugh, the way his smile seemed to brighten when Logan walked in the room, his relentless kindness towards everyone while expecting nothing in return. He deserved better and damn it Logan wanted to give him the world. Starting with these god damn cookies.

Finally, on attempt number six and as sunlight was filtering brightly through the window, Logan finally had a batch he was proud of. He materialized a clear bag with a light blue ribbon drawstring and carefully placed the cookies inside.

Logan cleaned up his mess in record time. Seeing as how Roman and Virgil had gone to bed so late, Logan doubted they'd be up for some time yet. Just the thought that he and Patton would be the only ones awake made him jittery and nervous. Instead of letting his thoughts take hold and race like he normally would, he settled for setting the cookies on the kitchen island and started a pot of coffee.

"Lo? Why are you--"

Logan had barely managed a sip from his mug before he heard Patton. Nearly spitting his coffee out, he whipped his head to the side to see Patton staring at the bag of cookies with curiosity. Logan knew this was going to be his only perfect opportunity. With determination he set his coffee mug down and turned fully towards Patton's stunned form.

Virgil had come up with the perfect plan to get Logan and Patton alone. He'd burst in to wherever Logan was and tell him that Patton had gotten hurt when he'd been with Roman on an "adventure". He'd lead him to Patton's room where Patton would be waiting with a jar of crofters and a powerpoint with all the reasons why he loved Logan. At the time, Patton had love the idea and finished the slides with ease.

But now he guessed it was all for nothing as he saw Logan looking far more attractive than anyone had the right to at eight o'clock in the morning. Logan had a look of determination that wasn't hindered by the blush working its way up his neck, and in turn Patton could feel his own face flushing.

Without realizing it, Patton had moved closer to Logan as if being drawn by a magnet. Only when he had to crane his head back a bit did he notice he had moved at all. Patton felt butterflies attack his stomach as he stared up at Logan, who was looking at him like he was the best thing ever.

Logan wanted nothing more than to pull Patton closer, but he needed to explain himself to him before he got that luxury. Grabbing the cookies without taking his eyes off Patton's and clearing his throat, he began try and explain the phenomena that was currently taking place in his heart courtesy of Patton.

"For months now, Patton, I've felt....so much. So much I'm not used to feeling. What I can only describe as adoration and happiness and longing fills every fiber of my being when I'm near you. When you smile, my heart flutters. When you laugh I want nothing more than to be the cause for it."

He paused to give Patton time to absorb the words. After a few long moments Patton opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it just as fast. This made Logan nervous, made him think he had imagined everything Patton had said in the first place. He pushed on nonetheless.

"Pat, I..." he took a deep breath. "You're amazing, and beautiful, and funny, and witty, smart, talented. You are everything good in the world and...I love you, Patton."

Logan didn't know how it happened, but suddenly he had his arms filled by Patton. Arms were wrapping around his neck tightly and a face was burrowing on his chest. Logan shuddered out a breath before clutching at Patton just as tightly around his middle.

"Lo, you're so sweet," Patton whispered. The words had gotten muffled by the fabric of his shirt and he had to strain his ears to hear him, but they warmed him regardless.

Patton looked up at Logan suddenly. "I love you, too, Logan," Pat said with tears going down his face and a wide smile.

Logan couldn't help it, he brought his hands up to gently cup Patton's face. Resting his forehead on the shorter side and feeling his breath come in short pants matching his own Logan asked in a breathy whisper, "...Can I kiss you?"

Patton stopped breathing for a moment before closing his and nodding. It came as a small thrill to feel Logan's mouth press gently on his. The kiss to Patton felt both too long and too short. It was sweet and slow and Patton could only curl his hands in Logans hair, desperately clinging to him while they kissed so sweetly.

Feeling a content sigh fall against his mouth made Logan's nerves fall away. He was kissing Patton. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he'd have the privilege to hold Patton, to kiss him, to have his feeling reciprocated. Logan could feel every inch of himself on fire where he and Patton touched and he never thought he'd be so happy to burn.

Logan pulled his mouth away first, though god knew he wanted to keep kissing his Patton. He stared in awe at Patton's still-parted and slightly puffy lips. Logan had done that. He was still staring and already he was greedy for this sight again, thats how he knew Patton was going to kill him. What a way to go, Logan thought as he saw Patton open his eyes and grin wide.

Returning the smile, Logan cast his gaze downwards and spotted the bag of cookies still clutched in his hand. Clearing his throat and praying the cookies didnt get crushed during thr kiss, he presented them to Patton. "I, uh, ma-- ahem-- made these for you since I know how much you love to bake them for everyone else. I figured you deserved to have some made for you."

Patton was speechless. He was so touched as he grabbed the pretty bag filled with a dozen or so sugar cookies in symmetrical looking hearts. Opening the bag carefully and selecting a cookie even more carfully, Patton took a bite. The cookie itself was much like Logan himself, sweet and melted when it came in contact with his mouth. There was no real way Patton could describe how happy he was and how good the cookies were.

Tears in his eyes Patton said, "They're amazing, thank you so much Lo."

Logan, gaze soft and voice softer, suggested they have the day off to laze about and watch any movie Patton wanted. Patton agreed happily and waited on the couch eating his cookies while Logan finally changed into pajamas. To Logan's surprise, Patton chose Dr. Strange for them to start with. Little did he know Patton only chose it because he knew how much the logical side loved how they reasoned the seemingly impossible magic with science and made it seem so real.

They stayed there, a tangled heap of limbs and quick kisses, for several hours. Not even sparing a glance as Roman and Virgil came down the stairs holding hands since Logan accidentally showed Pat the video he took the night before, much to the other couples embarrassment. All was forgiven, however, once Ro and Virge saw how comfortable and happy Patton and Logan finally were. It helps Patton gave them each a cookie from delicious batch Logan had made.

Patton cuddled Logan as soon as the other pair retreated back up the stairs and soon fell alseep. Logan thought about where they started, how they fell in love at the same moment and realized how ridiculous they both were. Had they merely communicated how they felt they could have been doing this much sooner. Still, he wouldn't trade this moment for anything.

With a sleepy and content sigh Logan followed Patton to sleep with Ma Belle Evangeline from Princess And The Frog quiet coming from the television.

Taglist: @whatwashernameagain @lrnightingale @wujustyle412 @sassy-in-glasses @author-trash @patton-loves-coloring

Edit: The part where Logan catches Roman and Virgil in the kitchen refers to my other fic Sleepless Confessions (a prinxiety oneshot) and I'd like to give a thank you to @darude-sanderstorm for bestowing Roman's shuffle a "mating dance"

[nothingeverlost]

For the Christmas prompt, Henry Gold verse 13 and 41.

“That’s a tradition I’d never heard of

“Come to our place for dinner”

______________________________

“You should come to our place for dinner tonight, Graham.”  Emma wasn’t, strictly speaking, supposed to be working but she’d stopped by the station for an hour.  Henry had begged to come along, and since Emma knew there were some last minute things Gold needed to pull together for the next morning she’d agreed.  She hadn’t counted on him inviting Graham to dinner, though she shouldn’t have been surprised.  After all he’d invited Graham to Thanksgiving too.

“You’ve got to learn to run these things by your dad, kid,” Emma suggested.  It was funny how impulsive Henry was, when the opposite was true of his dad.  Then again she was pretty impulsive too, so maybe that’s where he got it.  

“I did.  Dad said I could ask but that I need to be better about procrastination, ‘cause it would be more polite to ask sooner.”  Henry looked up at Graham.  “I’m sorry I didn’t ask before.  I forgot.”

“Your dad really said yes?” Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.  She’d been in town for more than two months now and the only people she’d seen at the house were the people that lived there, and herself.  And some really tall guy named Dove a few times, but apparently he did work for Gold.  

“Yup.  He said to tell Graham that the beef was grass fed and sustainably raised, ‘cause I told him you hunted your own meat.  Will you come?” he asked a second time.  His voice sounded exactly the same as it had when he’d asked his dad for archery lessons.  He and Graham had already gone out a couple of times.  Emma had joined them the second time.

“How can I say no?  Assuming nothing happens to require a sheriff, of course.  I wouldn’t want to have to call in my deputy on Christmas Eve.”  Graham grinned down at Henry.  “Should I bring anything?”

“Nah, we have everything for dinner and there’s cake for dessert.  Chocolate,” Henry was all but dancing in place from the anticipation.  “Dad got it from the bakery.  Also cinnamon rolls for breakfast tomorrow after we open presents and stockings.”

“I’ll see you both in a couple of hours then.  Why don’t you go and enjoy your morning; it’s clear out now but should be snowing by tonight.”  This time Graham’s smile seemed aimed at her, and Emma found herself smiling back.  It was hard to not smile at Graham when he was happy, and it had been a few weeks since he’d smiled so easily.

“Guess I’ll see you at dinner, then.”  They’d eaten lunch together across their desks, and eaten back to back at separate booths at Granny’s, but never actually shared a meal.  Of course they’d have a couple of chaperones.  It was going to be interesting.  The first Christmas Eve she’d celebrated in years and it was her kid who she’d only known a few months, her kid’s dad, and her boss who was also someone she’d caught herself flirting with more than once, and was also the mayor’s ex.

When had her life gotten so complicated?

“Is it really going to snow tonight?”  Henry looked up at the sky; there wasn’t a cloud.  It was cold enough, though.

“I don’t know.  Meteorology isn’t really my thing.”  Graham seemed to know something about the weather, so maybe they were expecting a white Christmas.  “Does it usually snow on Christmas?”

“I don’t remember it happening before.  Maybe because of the curse; snowing on Christmas seems a little too fairytale.”  As they walked away from the sheriff station Henry shrugged.  “Can we get some hot cocoa before we go home?”

Emma was just about to agree when she saw Regina Mills crossing the street and heading towards Granny’s.  Instinctively she pulled Henry behind her.  “How about we don’t.  We could stop by Mary Margaret’s instead and wish her a Merry Christmas.”

“Cool, maybe she’ll make us hot chocolate.”  Emma sighed in relief when they turned the corner without Regina seeing them.  She was equally relieved when Mary Margaret answered the door and she was both alone and glad to see them.  She did indeed have everything to make hot chocolate, and they spent the better part of an hour drinking their hot beverages and talking about Christmas.  When Mary Margaret said that she was having dinner at the diner Emma had to bite her tongue to keep from doing exactly what she’d admonished Henry about, and inviting her to dinner.

“She put cinnamon in all of our drinks without asking,” Henry commented as they left.  The sky was a little more gray than it had been an hour ago.

“It’s not that unusual,” Emma said with a shrug, even though no one had automatically put cinnamon on her chocolate before.  They headed back to the house, and found that the number of wrapped presents under the tree had increased.  Emma knew that there was at least one gift that didn’t fit under the tree too.

“Dad?”  Henry called out as he took off his shoes.  Emma pointed to the cubby where they belonged when he, once again, seemed inclined to leave them where he took them off.  She’d tripped over them once in the middle of the night.

“In the kitchen making the pastry,” Gold called out.  

“Graham said yes to coming tonight,” Henry told him as he leaned against the counter and watched.  Gold had a bowl of flour and other things, Emma wasn’t clear on what went into dough, and was mixing it until it seemed to change into one lump.

“Pie for tomorrow?” she guessed, even though Henry had mentioned cake.

Henry shook his head.  “Tonight we have pot roast and after dinner we use the leftovers to make meat pies for Santa.”

“That’s a tradition I’ve never heard of.  Doesn’t Santa usually get cookies?” She’d seen it in enough movies and things.  Maybe she’d them once or twice when she was little, but group homes didn’t go in for things like that.  

“Dad says Santa gets so many cookies that he gets tired of them, and it’s a nice break to have something savory.  Right dad?”  Cookies apparently weren’t something Henry got tired of, though.  He helped himself to one of the ones on the plate Mary Margaret had sent home with them.

“It doesn’t seem to be a sustainable diet.”  Gold wrapped the dough in a piece of plastic and stuck it in the fridge before washing his hands.  Emma wondered how much of it was about not having the time or skills to bake up cookies.  Pie seemed to be the extent of Gold’s baking abilities.

“I’m guessing Santa gets tired of milk too?” she asked, arching one brow.

“It wouldn’t go well with the meat pie.” Gold looked pointedly at the counter where Emma could see a bottle of port and a small glass were waiting.  She snorted with laughter; leave it to Gold to turn cookies and milk into an evening snack of meat pies and port.  It suited him.

“Can we hang up our stockings now?”  Henry wiped away the crumbs from his cookie.  “We don’t want to forget before bedtime.”

“Somehow I don’t imagine that happening.”  Gold hung his apron up on a peg and picked up the cane that was leaning against the kitchen cabinet.  “Go on, you know where they are.”

“Wait, so there’s all the stuff under the tree and stockings?”  She thought Christmases like that were a movie thing.

“The stocking is for Santa.  The presents are mostly from myself, and a few from others. ”  Gold stood in the library watching as Henry carried the stockings over to the fireplace.  He hung them from the hooks, two that were aged and one that had been just recently added  Henry put his own in the middle, with Gold’s ‘dad’ stocking on one side and one that said Emma on the other.  Emma took one look and forgot how to breathe.  At that moment there was a knock at the door; Henry eagerly ran to answer it.

“Emma?  Are you alright?”  Gold tilted his head to the side, examining her.  “I’m sorry I didn’t ask, but Henry was worried that Santa didn’t know you were here and I wanted to reassure him that everything was good.”

“I’ve never had a stocking.”  The stupid prefilled generic things people collected for charity didn’t count.  This was one someone had picked out with her name.  Emma shook her head.  “It’s stupid, don’t mind me.  We should go and greet Graham.”

“I never had one either, not until Henry was three and cried because his stocking was lonely.  Making Christmas magic for Henry is all the more important because it’s nothing I ever had.  I want more for him.”  

“I do too,” Emma confessed.  She was grateful that there were no foster care homes in Henry’s past.  He’d celebrated every holiday and every birthday with his dad.  For the first time she wondered what Gold’s childhood had been like, and where it had been.  “But what I want right now is that pot roast I’ve been smelling all day; I’m starving.”

“I’ll get the food if you pour the wine; you’ll have to ask Graham his preferences.  We’ll be ready to eat in just a moment.”  Gold headed back to the kitchen while Emma went to collect Graham and Henry.  Once they sat at the table Graham was next to her and Henry was across from her.  It was cosy.  And weird.   A year ago she’d eaten Chinese take out on her couch and now things were very different.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” Gold said as he held up his glass.  Emma joined in the toast.  Different wasn’t always bad.