#got some better one but my neighbors full house was on display….

[strangeangel22]

northern lights were pretty cool tonight :) didn’t get amazing pictures but these look fun anyways i hope

[lynlyndoll]

I wish

genre: fluff, angst, comfort, neighbor au, friends to crushes to strangers to lovers

pair: bangchan x fem!reader

summary: You've always wished for things that never happened, or at least, that's what you thought. The whole theory you made about not getting what you truly wished for was ended when your biggest wish got granted. The one of having the one you love next to you.

word count: 4k

lyn's note: hello guys! oh my, i've missed writing and publishing actual fics here :)) so here is the first part of the event, i hope you guys will like it! please reblog/like if you like this, thank you!!!

8 days for Christmas masterlist

“I wish… I wish…” you kept saying in your parents’ car, watching out the window at the white scenery displayed outside. You were in the process of moving away from your old house because of your dad’s new job - something that you disliked with your whole heart. Not only that you were moving away from your best friends, but the move came during Christmas time - your favorite time of the year, that now has been fogged with sad thoughts of leaving your favorite people. “I wish we wouldn’t have moved.” You scoff, continuing your idea. Your parents look at you, your mom slightly smiling.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Y/N… You’ll see! You love Christmas! Look how much snow we have!” She chuckles, making you look at her and sigh.

You, indeed, loved snow - a factor that indeed maybe made you be more positive about the move, since during winter, at your old place, snow rarely came. You slowly smiled, however, still trying to keep your sad face on. 

You get out of the car and the first thing you do is breathe in the cold air that is brushing over your skin. You smile at the feeling, a little giggle escaping your lips. Looking around, you see a little boy smiling at you, waving his little hand a little after you locked eyes with him. You wave back, which encourages the boy to come closer.

“Hi!” The boy says and you reciprocate the greeting. “You're new, right? I stay just across the street - wait you saw that already… Uhm, if you need some help, I can help you! And my family will, as well! I’m Chan, by the way! Chan Bahng!”

“I’m Y/N…” you shyly say. “Y/N Y/LN. And thank you…” You smile.

Your dad then calls you to help him, interrupting the small interaction between you and the boy, named Chan. You go inside the house to help your parents move in, getting box after box from the moving truck. 

“Who’s the boy?” Your mom asks you, as the work is finally done. “He seems nice.”

“He’s Chan. Chan Bahng. His family lives just across the street.” You smile thinking at the boy. Your mom smiles as well.

“Then, if they are our new neighbors, we should invite them to dinner, after we finish moving this mess.” She says, chuckling.

Next time you see Chan is at school, in the hallways. 

“Hi, Y/N!” He says, happily. “How have you been? How's the moving? Still don’t need my strong arms?” He jokes, showing his arms as if he had big muscles, making you laugh.

“Thanks, Chan, but we've almost finished! And I've been… I guess, fine? I still miss my friends and the time isn't making it better.” You sigh, thinking about the Christmas you spent with your friends, knowing that this year’s Christmas wont have its special guests around the Christmass tree.

“Yeah, I think I understand the feeling. I also love Christmas and I'm sure it must be hard for you… But still, you have me!” He smiles, taking your hand and running along the corridors till he finds the door that leads to the school’s backyard, which was full of snow. You smile and follow him outside, running around and throwing snowballs at each other.

That night, your family got an invitation for Christmas from the Bahngs. You smiled, remembering what happened during school hours. Your family accepted the invitation, which made you radiate happiness. 

The Christmas parties became an annual tradition for your and his families, each year being spent either at your house or his house. You grew up with him being your perfect and funny neighbor, the one that you could always count on for saving the day. A tradition became decorating each other’s house in the last week before Christmas, ending each day with a Christmas movie while drinking your favorite hot chocolate. Many other traditions were made with him, more than half of your special memories being filled with him. 

Every year, the school organized a Christmas party for the seniors - and now, it was your turn as well to participate. As much as you loved the idea of going to the school’s party, you knew that there weren't many people interested in the idea of going with you. In fact, you knew that actually no person would want to go with you. No person, except - you hoped - Chan. Chan was always there for you, always ready to help, so why not ask him. Sure, you hoped you’d be the one asked out for the party, but after all, the question itself wasn't a big deal, right? 

You prepared everything, so, with the help of your few friends, the question would be perfect. A banner that you made with your girl best friend was hung, your friends were already making Chan walk up to you and your hands were sweaty from the nervousness. But, afterall, he is Chan, right? He wouldn't say no, right?

As he enters the room you specially occupied for the question, his eyes land on you. Your smile is bright as you ask your question. He smiles as well, although, a little bit awkwardly.

“Y/N… as much as I’d want to… I already asked Sana and she said yes.” He says, trying not to upset you. In fact, now you realize how stupid you must've been. You've always known that Chan always liked Sana - nothing new or nothing to bother you. You slightly smile, muttering a “Good job!” and a “Sorry for asking.” as you walk out the room. He tries to follow you, but your friends stop him - they knew you wanted to be alone.

You, indeed, wanted to be left alone, swallowing your tears as you realized that not even your best friend, the boy you've known since you were six years old, the boy who would've done anything for you, didn't want to go with you. Sure, you knew that you were probably too egoistic to think that he'd drop everything for you, but still, you couldn't stop feeling sad that the one person you truly felt connected to, wasn't there for you.

You decided not to bother over the fact that he went to the Christmas party without you. You also decided not to bother when Sana and him started going out together, as a couple, and he hasn't had any time for you as well. You decided not to bother over the fact that he went to the prom, without you again, making you stay at home while eating ice cream and tears mixing with the hiccups you got. Okay, maybe you were indeed upset. Maybe you missed your best friend. So what? You were okay with him dating, afterall, it was a normal thing to do at your age - not that you had part of it. To be completely honest, you haven't had your first kiss yet, but hey! What’s the big deal, right? 

“I wish… I wish he’d fucking see.” you sigh. Yes, you wish he’d see that you may care about him more than you'd care for a friend, youd even wish he’d acknowledge it, even if it would mean that he refuses you. At least, that way, you would accept that you have no chance with him. 

Even if you were still thinking about your crush on Chan, you decided to try and have some fun without him. So, when you got asked out for the first time, you immediately accepted. Not only because you were desperate to get Chan off your mind, but also because the boy who asked you out wasn’t too bad. In fact, he was a fun person to be with, attentive and caring. Plus, he was also pretty. His name - Taehyung - was pretty as well, it fitted him. 

You both went to a few dates together and you soon - almost - forgot about the Chan situation. Sadly, both of you parted away from each other, but you didn't have time to notice that. He tried, indeed, to talk to you, after Sana and him broke up. But you were always with Taehyung, which always brought you joy. 

That summer was the summer you parted ways for college as well. You started going to the university from the other side of the town, while he went to the closest university from his home. Every year, however, both of you would see each other for Christmas holidays, both of your eyes lingering on each other for a few seconds, before entering the house, unspoken words coming out every time. Taehyung was a great boyfriend. You loved him, but a little feeling in the back of your mind was always there, never making you stop thinking about Chan. 

“Y/N… I- we aren’t working anymore.” A teary Taehyung says, as you are also crying.

It all started two months ago. You and him both started to have a lot of work to do and none of you tried to make a little conversation with each other. You both got back to your shared apartment wasted and full of workload, entering the kitchen, grabbing some quick snack and going to sleep, only for the next day to happen exactly the same. You both tried to start talking again, but whenever one of you tried, the other wasn't in the mood of anything. Other than that, almost every week had its own fight, over the most insignificant stuff, which exhausted each other even more. Today was another fight, because he found the apartment messy. The fight accelerated quickly and soon enough, words were hitting each other again, harshly. Tears appeared in each other’s eyes. 

“We… we can’t, we-”

“Don’t you see, Y/N?” He sighs. “We haven’t had a normal conversation for months! We have barely even seen each other!”

“It’s- It’s only a phase, we will-”

“Y/N, please listen to me.” He cupped your face and made you look at him. “I love you, but we aren’t working. This- this is toxic! And it isn’t a phase… We’ve been like this for months, Y/N. For months! It’s not good for any of us!” He says, frustration being heard from the tone of his voice. His words make you cry even harder, hugging him as a goodbye.

“I loved you too, Taehyung. Very much. Thank you… for everything.” You sigh into his embrace. “I’ll leave in the morning.” You say as you go pack your bags.

Tragic, right? The only guy that made you feel safe put an end to your relationship. You knew that the relationship was getting even more toxic by day, but there was a hope… You wished it would get back to normal, to the way it used to be. But of course everything that you truly wish for, never happens. You always have laughed, the truth to be told, about the way that everything that you wished for turned out exactly the other way. If it happened to anyone other than yourself, you’d laugh, honestly. Because it simply sounds funny - to never have something that you truly wish for. And all of these wishes that never ended well, were all during the winter holiday, your favorite time of the year. But maybe it’s just your negative thoughts. Probably. Either way, right now, you have to think about another thing, about packing your things and getting out of your now ex boyfriend. 

It's exactly eleven months and thirteen days since you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. You weren't mourning your relationship anymore, however, you were still thinking about the happy moments you had together. However, you had no time to think about your past, now focusing on your last year of university. Truth to be told, you were straight up stressed and frustrated with the amount of work your teachers made you have - but you were ready to give your best. 

You still live with your parents, not having enough money to find an apartment all by yourself. Many people said it's stressing, to stay with your parents, but you were glad you still had some time to spend with your family, since you'd move away from home once you finished college. Afterall, this is your last Christmas here and you want to take in everything before you leave your childhood place. 

As you were getting nostalgic, you hear your mother call you from outside your room. You find your mom in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. 

“Hi, love.” She says and gives you a kiss on your forehead, but quickly gets back to cooking. “Your dad and I will go to his parents for the Christmas week and, since you're full of workload, we know you would prefer to remain at home. The only thing that I want to warn you is that, since you're a Christmas lover, we know you'll want to prepare the whole house for the holidays, so please take care. We will leave tomorrow morning, before you'll wake up, so don't worry about us.” 

You smile and nod, still a little bit sleepy. “Alright! Please take care, mom.” Right then, your father came from your parents’ bedroom, smiling at the smell of the pancakes your mother just finished making. 

It's already the 17th. Fuck. It's a week before Christmas and, even if you're full of excitement for having the house all for yourself during the holidays, you still can't stop thinking if your Christmas-decoration plan isn't a bit too much for yourself, being alone. But after all, you're Y/N, you've done this many times - sure, with the help of your parents and, well…

“Hey, don't you think you need a bit of… help?” Well, fuck. You could recognize that voice whenever and wherever. The exact person you were thinking of previously, the one and only Chan Bahng. You'd lie if you would say that you wouldn't need some help, though. But you don't want help, especially from him. So you try to ignore his concerned tone, as you try to put the Christmas lights at your house's eaves, standing on a not-so-stable metal staircase. And exactly what you did not wish for, happened. Your stairs happened to just give up on you, making you fall. Chan, immediately after he saw the way your stairs were moving in a not-so-safe way. He caught you in his arms, preventing you from hitting the pavement. He smiles, but once you feel his arms stopping your fall, you jump away from him, rearranging your outfit. He coughs, sighing at his question still being unanswered.

You force a smile. “Well, I guess..” You sigh, thinking that you, indeed, need some help. Even from Chan, your ex-best friend and still neighbor.

Indeed  with the help of another person, you soon finished decorating the outside. As you were entering the house, he stopped you. “Hey, uhm, maybe… I can help you with the inside as well? Since it's a big house and little time and we'll, you're alone.” He smiles, almost too awkwardly for Chan. He was right. Again. Another thing to add to the list of the things you don't like about him. You nod your head, inviting him in. Well, maybe you have another helper. The only thing you need to do is just, simply, finish the whole decorating situation, as fast as you can, and he'll be gone. Right?

That was the plan. A plan you had terribly failed, starting off with the question: “What in the world smells like this?”. A question asked by your neighbor, Chan. A question that even yourself would’ve asked if you wouldn't have been the one preparing the Christmas cookies you once knew how to prepare. You laughed, honestly, because another thing that you wished for just simply didn't happen. Well, that's the smallest thing that hasn't happened as wanted, you told yourself. Funny. Either way, the bad smell somehow found its way into the alley - the one Chan, exactly at that moment, was walking by. Funny, again. He knocked at your door, thinking that there might have been some type of fire accident and he was worried for you - something you brushed off easily, as only guilt built up through years. He asked you that exact question, which made you laugh - a genuine laugh, that made Chan thank God for finally getting some type of positive reaction to him - and you simply answered by letting him inside, showing him the cookies - the horribly burnt, with no taste cookies. You knew that you were a bad cook since you were a kid, to be honest. But usually, your parents or friends - yes, even Chan used to fit this category - were next to you, helping you out, which always made your cooking way more bearable - not for you, but for the other's health. Once he sees the cookies, his signature smile appears, his nose scrunching from both the unpleasant smell and from laughing. You smile as well - another sign that Chan takes in. 

“Okay, don’t you think you need some help with… those?” He says, amusingly. 

“Maybe…” You laugh as well, throwing the cookies into the bin.

That day, you cooked with Chan till late. The first attempt that you both made was so good that none could stop eating, so exactly when you wanted to take some and put them for the decor, you noticed none was left. So you both did another round of cookies, this time leaving some for the decor. Seeing that it was close to midnight, you invited him to eat something at your house, from your mom’s famous Christmas steak - an actually very common steak, however, you and Chan gave that name a few years ago, in your childhood. So he accepts your invitation, settling down at the table. That night, you both started talking about everything that happened during the time you didn’t talk - a thing that somehow, made you feel better. It was a good dinner, you thought, even if the steak was a little bit too cold, but his presence made the atmosphere warmer, so you didn’t mind it. 

There are exactly 6 days, 20 hours and 21 - actually 22, no 23 - seconds since you started planning for Christmas and eventually, started speaking to Chan again. A thing you finally didn’t regret. You were finally together, again. And tonight was finally Christmas Eve. Funny, you didn’t even register how the time went.

Ding Dong.

A sound comes from outside of your house. You open the door and are met with a red-nosed Chan, with the one sweatshirt you gave him years ago - you didn’t even recognize it at first - and with his hands on two hot chocolates, both from your favorite cafe in town. He looks up at you, eyes a little bit teary from the cold and you immediately smile and let him in. 

“Hey-”

“I did not want you to spend Christmas alone, Y/N… So, here I am!” he answers right away at your unspoken question. You forgot this man can literally predict your every move. So you just smile and help him with the hot chocolate - which you then pour into your favorite mugs, the ones you both got for Christmas, a long time ago. 

“What movie are we watching this Christmas, Y/N?” He asks, making himself cozy on your couch. You sit next to him, placing some of the Christmas cookies you both made together in front of you, accompanied by the hot chocolate Chan got - especially for you, a thing that he won’t tell anyone, actually.

“Well, how about (your favorite Christmas romance movie)?” You smile, as he nods and opens Netflix, pressing play to the movie.

There are 6 days, 23 hours and 19 - 20, 21 and 22 - seconds since Christmas appeared in your planning agenda again and you're finally at the last part. The one you enjoyed every Christmas - cuddling with a sleepy and warm Chan, that knows all the action of the movie, so when he wakes up at exactly 3 minutes before the main characters kiss, he knows all the action that has happened. And now, he’s finally awake, again, 3 minutes before the kiss scene, exactly as you expected. 

2 minutes.

“Okay, they are close!” He says with excitement in his voice as he hugs you even closer than you were, making you chuckle. You hug him back as well. Somehow, you like this proximity, even if it feels way more different than it used to be back when you were teenagers. It feels intimate, but you brush the thought off.

1 minute.

“Hold on~” He says, trying to figure out exactly the moment they will kiss. The two main characters are on the big screen of your TV, meaningful words being said by both of them. You start thinking how good it has to feel to have a winter love that grows day by day and the love erupts during Christmas Eve. It feels magical, untouchable, and you have to admit that you'd want to feel it too. Feel the thrill of celebrating both Christmas and the day you and your loved one had become a couple. You tried to imagine it, but the only thing that came into your head was the little boy that you saw the first day you moved here. In your imagination, the little boy grew and grew, and then you saw through your thoughts dates that he would have probably taken you to. You sigh at the mental images you imagined, returning back to reality when he strokes your hand. Your eyes meet his - he was already looking at you.

30 seconds

“Are you okay?” His gentle voice rings in your head. 

“Yeah…” That's all you can say. You're not fooling him, so he scoots even closer to you. 

“Y/N, I know you for a long time - too long to remember actually” He cracks a joke, making you smile. “I know when you’re not doing great, so please tell me. I am - well, I used to - be your best friend-”

“You still are…” You interrupt him.

15 seconds

“Well, I’m glad because you’re also mine-”

“That’s the thing. We’re best friends.” you continue.

“Yeah… I know?”

“Well, yeah, only best friends. Nothing else. Exactly as we used to be during our childhood.” You say, your gaze now being in your lap. He doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “During our childhood, I never truly understood what I felt to you. I confused it with… friendship, but it wasn’t quite that. It was more like… teen love, I guess? I mean, I was still a kid, but I felt something for you, more than I felt for my other friends, y’know? And… it broke my heart when I saw you with Sana-”

“It broke my heart to see you with Taehyung, as well.” He says, quietly, making you look at him, his blush prominent on his cheeks. “I mean… I thought you didn't see me this way and all of my friends made fun of me for not having a relationship, so I asked Sana out because I knew - well, I thought - you’d say no.” He sighs.

3 seconds

“Well, I never knew-”

“Is there a reason why we stopped talking?” He asks, making you nod. He cups your cheeks and lets out a heavy sigh.

2 seconds

“Do you, by any chance, still feel the same way?” He asks, hoping to be heard in his tone.

“I-” you remain blocked, a smile growing and growing until it reaches your eyes. “Yeah.”

1 second

“Then, fucking kiss me!” He groaned, rolling his eyes in a fake annoyance.

Kiss scene

No one was focusing on the movie, not now when your lips were on his. He was like coziness, home and safety - a mix of all of your comfort things. He tasted like Christmas, like actual Christmas. Both of you started to smile in the kiss, a soft, long awaited moment for both of you. 

“I wish we did this before…” You say once you break the kiss.

“I wish we will do this forever.” He smiles, bringing another wave of positivity to you, kissing you again, just as he wished. Forever.

taglist: @agi-ppangx @lisaaassophhhieee @jenny1p-l0ve

[thirstydiglett]

Exploring some more serious writing today in the form of a prose poem. It’s not One Piece related, but I hope you guys will humor me anyway. Especially if any of my followers are b*polar

He said, “Don’t Apologize.”

I left the house with a perky text, a kiss to my cat, a bag full of fun stuff to do together. Switch, iPad, a board game. Another bag with my bong, my vape—the doctor told me I had to quit, and you don’t smoke so you said

“bring it over here love”

and so I did.

By the time I got to you, the wrong song had come on the radio and I was openly weeping, my stomach roiling and turning the way it does when the anxiety brings me to vomiting (almost mundane for me at this point). And so I walked to your door, embarrassed, squeezing it back like air in a half deflated balloon.

We can go to the sex club with my whole body on display for strangers, one of us with a leash around our necks, and I will smile ear to ear all night long. I can fall on my ass in front of my fifth grade students—the age where they get mean, too—and we all laugh together about the way I went down.

But mixed episodes.

The feelings switch from second to second, a carousel that keeps changing direction, pitching me around on a wooden horse that I’ve long suspected is rotting. The anxiety is debilitating. The mania is terrifying. It has built universes in my mind, towers of pattern and deep cognition and knowing what isn’t really there. It has destroyed destroyed destroyed friendship after friendship. Lovers. People whose backs I never thought I would see.

And the tears.

The tears are unpredictable—I am singing along on a drive and the lyrics “you always deserved better than me” bounce poisonously off the walls of my little car and suddenly I am pulled over, sobbing into the steering wheel, vomiting onto the white line as the trucks rush by, and tell me that’s not shameful. Tell me that’s not disgusting, embarrassing, humiliating. Girl who could never control her emotions continues to be unable to control her emotions. Just like 22, but now you’re 30.

Tell me that’s not shameful.

So you did.

I got to your door and you pulled me close to you in a heartbeat. Full view of your neighbors, I clung to you. There was snot. But you stroked my hair and scratched my head the way you know I like—how do you manage to remember so much about me, my love?—and I said

Sorry

Sorry

Sorry

I’m so sorry

You don’t deserve this

We were supposed to have fun

I’m sorry

And you

With your green, green eyes and your small hands on my back

Over and over again you whispered

“You

Don’t

Have

To

Apologize”

And you said it and you mumbled it and you whispered and you shouted over the birds in the next room until finally I started

To believe it.

Next week you will have your surgery and I will come and be your arms. Reach the high shelves, make the ice packs, set the timers for the pain meds. And I hope that you, lying with your cat with Far Cry 4 flickering paused on the screen,

Never

Have to say it.

But if you do I will hold you gently and I will rub your back newly free of binders and I will run my fingers through your dark, dark hair and I will tell you.

You do not have to.

Neither of us ever did.

[leetotters]

sassy quips

note: this was so much fun writing. credits to the funny tiktok audios and instagram videos i saw to write this short fic! the writing in italics is the 'youtube video'. i need a better title for this

warnings: tom and reader are together ofc, cursing, sassy/funny!reader? lmao

tom holland x reader, tom holland and co x reader(platonic lol)

summary: harrison stumbles upon a youtube video containing funny/sassy moments between y/n and the holland brothers(including harrison)

Tom and Harrison's loud laughs could be heard from the living room, the boys were currently doing an Instagram live, claiming it was the perfect time to do one since they were bored and Tom hadn't interacted with his fans in the longest while.

You yawned walking into the room finding Tom's phone propped up on the blue fruit bowl, showing his screen the lasagna Sam made earlier. "Hey guys" You spoke, jumping over Harrison's giggly body on the carpeted floor to seat yourself on Tom's awaiting lap.

"Hey love, sleep well?" Tom asked, brushing the loose hair that rested on your forehead before pecking the space between your brows. "Yes" You sighed, turning your attention to Tom's live.

You skimmed through the comments, laughing at some funny ones and awing at the ones stating you were pretty and all boosting your confidence, "Someone asked why is Harrison laughing" You read aloud gaining the blonde's attention.

"I found a video on YouTube and it's hilarious" He grinned pushing his phone so it was in front of your face. You twitched your brows up when you saw the title.

'Y/N and the Holland Brothers funny/sassy moments'

"Oh my, no way" You grabbed his phone, clicking the video. "Wait" Harry took the phone, connecting the YouTube video to the television before handing it back to you. "Now everyone can see" He explained, plopping down on the sofa with a bowl of pretzels.

"Ready?" You inquired, pressing the play button on the phone when the boys replied with an amused 'yes'. Tom flipped the camera so the live could also see the video being displayed on the flat screen.

The music of the YouTube channels intro played, the classic aesthetic sound and the accounts name saying to subscribe before the title finally showed up. 'Y/N and the Holland brothers funny/sassy moments part.1'

-

"I am single" You wistfully spoke, your lips forming into a pout taking a sip of your orange juice before continuing. "And you're single" You pointed at Tom making him get a sense of hope that you're finally catching on that he likes you. "And well that can only mean one thing" You closed the cap of your juice, Tom smiled waiting excitedly for your answer.

"Nobody fucking wants us yo what the fuck" You dropped your head dramatically on the marble counter. Tom rolled his eyes, resuming the task he was doing before you barged in.

"Why you do him like that Y/N" Harrison voiced, his words stuttering from his loud laughs. "Tom was practically waiting for you to ask him out" Harry added bursting out into laughter as well. Tom and you just chuckled remembering that was days before he actually choked up the courage to ask you out.

-

At that moment you wanted to rip Tom's head off, who gave this foolish boy the idea of buying chickens? you questioned yourself while trying to stealthily grab the egg that rested under the hen. The boys were right behind you, outside of the coop cheering you on whilst you collected the eggs. "You can do it" Harrison clapped, swaying his head side to side. "You can do it" Sam danced along bumping his hip with Tom. "You can do it" Harry encouraged. "You can do this" Paddy sang, grinning when he heard you let out a loud huff. "You can do thi-"

"Shut the fuck up" You yelled glaring at Tom. "We're just encouraging you" They defended. "No! You almost made me drop the egg"  You whispered yelled hearing the hen starting to cluck.

Tears welled in all of your eyes, chortling at short clip, "You all are so annoying" You playfully rolled your eyes, earning a light pinch from Tom. "Oh please we were encouraging you!" They spoke simultaneously making everyone erupt in another fit of laughter.

-

Paddy ran up the staircase, trying his best to conceal his giggles as he ran into your and Tom's shared bedroom. "Y/N get out of the house, it's on fire" Paddy exclaimed, dropping down on the floor and rolling his way towards you to make his so called prank more believable. "Well tell the fire hold up, because I'm doing some important shit here" You replied not even caring that the younger boy was crazily rolling on the floor. You gave Paddy a weird look before clicking the resume button on your phone vibing to the song once more.

"Paddy really started rolling" Tom wheezed through laughs, genuinely finding it funny that his brother really thought he could prank you, he knew nothing came between you and your music vibing time.

-

"Hey did you call our neighbor Mrs. Johnson a bitch?" Harrison inquired, seeing the scene earlier where you flipped off the old lady for some odd reason. You looked up at Harrison from your spot between Tom's clingy arms, "Yeah! She changed her Wi-Fi password" You huffed, cuddling Tom again because you were pissed off. "Yo you can't be- that bitch changed the Wi-Fi password?!" Harrison gasped. "Guys Mrs. Johnson changed her Wi-Fi pass" Sam groaned walking into the room. "Y'know we have our own Wi-Fi right?" Tom chuckled honestly finding the situation rather stupid. "Her Wi-Fi is faster Tommy, no offense" You patted his chest.

"I'm so happy we got it back" You spoke up, the boys agreeing by nodding their heads. "Please you all are so dramatic" Tom uttered scrolling through the incoming comments and hearts on his live. "We shouldn't have given him the password" Harry grumbled softly only for you and Harrison to hear.

-

It was Saturday, and on this day it only meant one thing in the Holland household, dance night! The legendary sound of 'Watch Me' filled the neon colored living room, you skipped over to Sam knowing the song was one of his favorites. And well what happened next was uncalled for, when you were about to 'whip' you accidentally punched Paddy in the face.

"Okay so explain to me what happened" Tom asked holding the pack of peas against Paddy's swollen face. "Y/N punched me in the face" The teenager whined, his words muffled. "Bitch? No I didn't, I tried to whip and he was in my way" You held your hands up, stepping back, grinning when Sam voiced 'She's right, he was in her way Tom'

-

The screen blanked off, the channels end card appearing, the same aesthetic sound played but was drowned due to the laughter emanating from the room. "I told you'll it was hilarious" Harrison held his chest trying to calm down. "Wait there's a part two" Harry pointed to the video next up.

'Y/N and the Holland Brothers funny/sassy moments part 2'

"More?!" Tom and you shouted not wasting a minute later to click on the YouTube video. "The live is officially chaotic" You glanced at the phone screen, seeing the comments full with laughing emojis and other ones portraying the way you 'punched' Paddy. Boy it's going to be an eventful evening you thought, stealing a pretzel from Harry and leaning back on Tom's chest getting comfortable.

"Hey people, we're back" Sam and Paddy called out from the kitchen. Oh yes an eventful evening indeed.

[bestintheparsec]

As Does the Snow

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You and your neighbor, Frankie, get snowed in together. 

A/N: I wrote this down when the power was out while I was—you guessed it—snowed in. Nothing too deep/angsty in this (for once), just softness. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: none, some obvious tropes (snowed in, there was only one bed)

*Masterlist pinned to my page

~

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, prompting you to drop the pile of clothes you’re holding to answer it.

“Hey, Santi,” you answer the familiar friendly voice on the other end.

“You lose power yet?” he asks, slight concern in his tone.

“Just about an hour ago,” you reply, peering out the window. The sun’s still out, so you’ll be okay for a few more hours until it sets.

You’d all been expecting the power to go out, of course. The news has been tracking a seemingly out-of-nowhere snow storm that’s been headed your way, starting its impact a few hours earlier. You hadn’t expected to lose power so soon, though—it usually takes a lot more ice or wind to damage the lines. You’ve been preparing as best as you can for the cold nights ahead. With the lack of heat and power, it was bound to be a long night or two.

“You have everything you need, right?” he asks after a short silence. Santi and the other guys, most of them, live closer to the city and away from the countryside that you'd chosen to live in. With the way the roads are, everyone's been warned not to drive if possible. Not that there’s anywhere to go.

“Yeah, I always do—”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could go stay with Frankie during this whole thing,” he chimes in.

Frankie lives across the street from you—you’ve been good friends with him ever since you moved in years ago, even becoming a part of his group of ex-military friends when he introduced you to them, and you'd fit in like you’d always belonged there. It’s perfectly reasonable that Santi would ask you to go stay with your friend to hunker down during a storm. You would all stay with each other if you could, but seeing as that’s impossible and you and Frankie only have each other right now…yes, completely reasonable.

Fuck, who are you kidding?

What seems like a long time ago, you realized you had feelings for Frankie. And, by some luck—or not—you found out they were reciprocated.

But things don’t always work out the way you want them to; hell, it seems like things never do. At the end of the day, you both had wanted to pursue something more with each other, but life got in the way, just as it often does. You both had a lot going on in your lives back then, things you had to deal with and sort out alone. Ultimately—awkward conversations and deep talks and all—you’d both decided it was best if you simply stayed friends, lest things become overcomplicated.

And so you did. Despite this small history, things haven't really been awkward since then. He’s still a good friend to you, one of your best friends, really, and the subject hasn’t been mentioned again ever since.

Only, you haven’t really moved on. You haven’t been much good at leaving the feelings behind you, either. At first you just kept shoving them away, trying to convince yourself that you felt nothing at all whenever you were with him, nothing except friendly love for one of your best friends. But despite your best attempts not to, you found yourself slowly falling more for him. Being close to him for this long has made it even harder for you to move past it.

Not that you've addressed any of this again.

Had you sorted out the things you were dealing with back then? Maybe. But you’d both decided on what was best, years ago, and given that Frankie hasn’t brought it up again since, it’s likely he wants to keep things that way. Time tends to help some people to move on, where it drives the knife in deeper for others. Frankie’s been on plenty of dates since then, even a relationship or two. So you know you were probably just a momentary interlude in his love life, someone he stopped thinking about in that way long before you could ever even think about moving on. You're nothing more than a good friend to him now. And so you've kept your continued feelings for him to yourself, allowing them to thinly layer your friendship like a light dusting of sugar that’s never quite sweet enough to stand on its own.

But the thought of sheltering with him for a few days? You're not sure if you can keep your feelings contained if you're with him for that long and with that much free time to get lost in your thoughts. But given the seriousness of the storm, you were both bound to end up at one or the other's place, anyways.

You must have been silent for a little too long, because Santi speaks again, breaking your thoughts. “You can watch over each other, that sort of thing. Besides, you know how he can be…” he trails off, waiting for you to answer.

“I—yeah, I’ll go over there,” you finally agree, nodding to yourself. “I was going to check up on him eventually, anyways. I’ll go over as soon as I finish up what I’m doing.”

“Sounds good—let us know if you run into any trouble. We’ll find a way over there if we need to.”

You mutter a quick thanks and remind them to stay safe before hanging up, tossing your phone onto the couch with a resigned sigh. Moments later you pick it up again, quickly sending a text to Frankie to ask him if it’s alright for you both to bunker together for the night. Which he quickly agrees to, of course—you’ve spent many evenings over at his place, or his at yours.

Really, you don’t know why your brain’s suddenly trying to make this weird for you. You’ll bring some snacks and blankets, and it’ll be just like any other Friday night you’ve spent with him. Not weird. There’s nothing there (at least on his end) for you to feel awkward about.

You shake your head and finish your emergency preparations, trying to be done with it before it gets dark so you can head over to Frankie’s.

~

Exhaling deeply first, you ring Frankie’s doorbell.

“Coming!” His deep voice calls from inside.

You shove your hands into your pockets then change your mind, moving them to grip anxiously onto the straps of your backpack. Another few moments pass before you hear Frankie trod to the door. He answers it with a soft smile plastered on his face, the same one he uses every time he greets you. Immediately taking the bag you’re carrying off your arm, he beckons you inside and you follow, shrugging off your backpack.

"Did you need help with anything?" You ask, dropping your bag onto the ground and looking around the darkened place. The windows are covered, there's flashlights and candles out on the table, and a couple cases of water are stacked in the kitchen.

He’s layered up in clothing just like you are—a familiar flannel button-up peeking out from under his jacket. His hair is messy like he’s been running around all day, which he probably has been from the looks of it. If you had to describe it, he looks like...home.

Stop it, you mentally chastise yourself.

“Nah, I’m just making some final tweaks,” he remarks, walking over to pull the living room curtains shut. “The house is warm enough for now, but it won’t be long before it starts feeling like the inside of a fridge in here.”

He turns back to face you with a different sort of smile on his lips, a gentle expression you can’t quite make out.

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie’s been in deep for you, too. He knows you'd both agreed not to date, but over time he's come to greatly regret that decision. It was the right one at the time, but he can't help but wish things had gone a little differently. There’s no one he’d rather be around, and any and all dates he’s been on over the years have failed for the same reason—they’re not you. They could never be you.

Chances come and go, and his has gone. In more ways than one you’re a light in his life, someone he couldn’t ever deserve, and somehow he’s lucky enough to have you in his life at all—even if it’s just as friends. If he’s a better person now, a lot of it’s because you’ve been there to pick up the pieces, the same way he does and will always do for you without a second thought.

But something you can’t help him with is the fact that he’s fallen for you, hard, long after you’d both agreed to just be friends. And he keeps on falling.

He knows people change their mind all the time, but he’s been unwilling and unable to bring it up again with you. For all he knows, that agreement had just been your gentle way of telling him “it’s never going to happen.” He doesn't want to risk scaring you off and losing one of the best people in his life.

Frankie comes back to reality, watching you smooth out the front of your shirt.

“Okay, well, I brought some of my blankets in case we need to pile them up…” you say, pointing to the large bag you brought. “And since your stove is electric, it looks like we’ll be eating snacks for dinner.”

“That’s bold of you to assume,” he retorts, walking over to the kitchen. With a silly gesture, he proudly uncovers a large dish full of one of your favorites.

Frankie is certainly no chef, but he can put together a dish or two, even going out of his way to learn how to make the things that you both love. He puts a hand on his hip, amused by the surprised look on your face. “I made it before the power went out. They did teach us some things about preparation in the military, you know,” he teases, dimple on full display.

“And here I was packing junk food and sandwiches, like a loser,” you jest, grinning back at him. Frankie somehow always manages to make your life a little better. He beams and your chest constricts at the sight.

"Oh, we'll definitely need those for later," he reassures you with a grin. "If the guys were here that'd all be gone before the worst of the storm even hits," he adds, making you laugh.

Some of your favorite nights with Frankie are the ones that are completely uneventful, ones where you relax after a long day of work and binge your favorite snacks while watching some crappy movie on the couch. Then again, it's always the little things that make you happy when it comes to him.

~

Once you've had your dinner you both get comfortable next to each other on the couch, chatting about life and nothing in particular, the way you often do—minus the lack of electricity and a mostly dark room that’s barely lit up by a couple of small camping lights Frankie has. No doubt the other guys would make things a lot more chaotically entertaining if they were all here, but you’re happy it’s just the two of you now—even if it does make it harder for you to think straight at the moment.

Frankie says something that makes you chuckle and you look up at him, noting the delicate smile on his lips and the way it almost balances out the tired lines under his eyes.  He meets your eyes, and if he looks like he wants to say something else, it's probably only in your mind because he doesn't.

The wind outside makes itself known, rattling the windows in its wake. You're suddenly grateful you'd agreed to come and stay with Frankie. Although you’re lucky to have a shelter, these kinds of storms are best when you don't have to ride them out alone.

You also become hyper-aware of how intimate the moments you share with Frankie are. At the end of the day, you're glad he's in your life, even if it's not the way the younger version of you wanted. You still have him and he has you, and that's really more than you could ever ask for.

A chill suddenly makes its way through you.

"Are you shivering?" Frankie stops talking mid-thought to ask you.

"What? No, I—" He cuts you off with a chuckle and shakes his head, reaching down into your bag. With a quick movement he pulls a beanie on over your head, purposely tugging it past your eyes as you laugh and playfully smack his hand away.

"Watch yourself, Morales," you attempt to glare at him as you smooth down your hair, but fail to contain your smile when you see that goofy twinkle in his eyes.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” he concedes and raises his hands in mock surrender. The grin is still on his face as he moves to fix the beanie on your forehead. Another quiet chuckle escapes his lips until his fingers move away from your forehead, accidentally grazing along your cheek.

It’s not the chill that makes you both fall abruptly silent.

It’s almost as if the wind wiped the grins off your faces as Frankie looks into your eyes with an intense gaze. His hand still hovers along your cheek, neither of you seeming able to move. You’re suddenly grateful that it’s impossible for him to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears right now. Your imagination must be getting the better of you again, because you almost believe that there’s something wistful about the look on his face.

But just like that, he drops his hand and you both avert your eyes.

“It’s, um...getting late,” you break the silence. “We better get settled before it really starts getting cold in here.”

Frankie clears his throat, nodding in agreement and standing to pile some blankets onto the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Um...you know I don’t have the guest room set up. There’s just the bed in my room. You go get cozy, I’ll take the couch.”

"What? I'm not gonna steal your bed, Fr—"

“And I'm not going to have you uncomfortable in my house,” he brushes you off with a wave of the hand. “It's fine, querida, really. You know I've knocked out on this couch more times than I can count." Your chest warms at the sound of his pet name for you. It's harmless, just something he's always called you. But for some reason it makes your face warm to hear it this time.

“No, I mean...isn’t it better if we share? I think the whole point is to keep our bodies warm. It’s easier to do that if we’re in one room.”

He finally meets your eyes again, holding your gaze as though there's more than one thing on his mind, then runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I...Are you sure? I really don’t have any problem with—”

You smile softly at him, trying to hide any indication of awkwardness in your tone. “Yes, Frankie, it’s fine. Really. Besides, we can stack all our blankets together this way.”

He smiles back. “I have a big, fluffy one we can use, too.”

~

All the remaining heat in the house has definitely dissipated now, leaving behind a frigid chill. It's bearable for the time being, but leaves your skin covered in goosebumps anytime you expose so much as a sliver of skin to the air. The last time you checked, the snow had already made a significant cushion to the ground outside, and was still going strong.

You've been in bed for an hour or two, huddled into a ball underneath several layers of blankets and refusing to move because it only makes you colder to shift the air around.

Frankie's asleep next to you—you assume he's asleep, anyways. Neither of you have said a word in a while, and with the pattering sounds of snow falling outside, you're getting drowsy yourself. Still, you haven't been able to fall asleep, not even when you jam your eyes shut. It's too cold, for one thing, and for another, it's difficult to ignore the fact that he is right next to you. It's a big bed and there's a decent space between you, but still.

You shift positions yet again, trying to wrap yourself tighter in your section of the blankets. You move to readjust one of the blankets that's gotten pushed away, accidentally bumping Frankie's arm in the process. You grimace, hoping you didn't wake him.

"Your hand is like ice," Frankie's quiet voice suddenly fills the room.

"Oh—Sorry. I thought you were asleep," you mutter back, your voice muffled by the blankets.

"No. It's hard enough for me to sleep even when there's not a historic snowstorm going on." He jokes, though you know it goes deeper than that for him.

Not really knowing how to respond, you remain silent. Rolling onto your side facing away from him, you tuck yourself further into the blankets before resolving to pull them up and over your head entirely.

Frankie's soft laugh rumbles next to you. "Seriously, your skin is frozen," he tells you. “You’re like the opposite of a space heater right now,” he chuckles and you can hear the grin on his face.

You push the blanket off your face, feigning a groan. “Freezing weather and a lack of heat lends to poor circulation, Francisco.”

"I know, I just…maybe it would…it might be warmer if we slept closer together." His voice is so soft that you can’t help but think how nice it would be to fall asleep to the sound of it every night.

When you don’t answer right away he quickly adds, “Or not—I wasn’t trying to...I didn’t mean—Sorry.” Frankie shuffles uncomfortably under the covers.

“No, you’re right,” you murmur hesitantly, barely louder than a whisper. “It...would probably help.”

A beat of silence.

Then you hear Frankie gently move his pillow over towards you, scooting himself in until you can feel his warmth against you. He doesn’t move again at first, you only feel his chest rising and falling against your back. But ever so slowly, he wraps an arm over you, the weight of him sturdy and comforting. You can tell he’s tense—hesitant—until you place your own hand on his, holding him closer to you. Feeling you make yourself comfortable must put him at ease, and he relaxes around you. Neither of you say a word, just lay there sharing each other’s warmth.

You’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder on some late nights on the couch before—things two normal, friendly people do, right? But you’ve never let yourself think too much about it. You can hardly help it now, reveling in the way you feel safe in his arms, fitting perfectly along the curve of his body. You are warmer, although some of it may be because of the way your pulse is just a little bit quickened. You wouldn't mind if you had to stay like this forever.

Frankie quietly exhales, his breath warm against the back of your hair. “Better?” he finally speaks, his voice gravelly and hushed, not much louder than the sound of snow hitting the window.

A pause. “Yeah.”

You feel him relax even more, burying his cheek a little more into the space above your shoulders. “Let’s try to sleep, then, querida.”

And just like that, Frankie Morales manages to make you fall a little bit more in love with him.

It’s then that you realize—it’s always been simple with him. Everything is always...easy with him. Nothing’s overcomplicated or messy; it’s just you and Frankie. It’s what drew you to him first, long ago. It wasn’t the outspoken openness that that others had, nor the confident resolve, but the quiet way he cares for you. The way he manages to always make you laugh, even at the times when it’s almost impossible to. The way he makes you feel so whole that you forget there was ever anything missing in the first place. That’s how he found his way, permanently, into your heart.

For Frankie, it’s always been you. You’re a grounding presence to him, someone who’s made him familiar with peace again over the years.

He lies there listening to the sounds of your breathing, sure that you’re finally fast asleep. He feels sleep coming over himself, too. He knows he’ll sleep a little easier tonight with you. He’ll weather anything when it comes to you. That’s how he knows, and convinces himself that once this storm business is over, he’ll tell you. For now, he lets himself follow you into slumber. His last conscious thoughts are of how he wouldn't mind having you in his arms like this every night, and if it weren't for your warmth lulling him to sleep, he might've confessed to you right then and there.

 ~

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[alltooreid]

congrats on 100<33

✏️ - idk if this is a good enough concept but something along the lines of reader being scared of something (can be a thunder storm or haunted house or anything u want lol) and spencer comforts reader

(reader can be fem. (she/her) or gn (they/them), it doesn’t matter to me)

i hope this made sense, i didn’t wna go to into detail that way u could work freely with it lolll 💓

omg this makes perfect sense and it’s such a cute idea!! I went a little overboard and this got really long because I added a little meet-cute situation but I hope you love it anyway!! Also I changed Y/N’s fear because I had a really good idea and you were so open!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN! Reader

Type: comfort so like angst/fluff idk??

Word Count: 1.4K (oops)

Content Warnings: discussion of blood

When Y/N was five years old they told their mom they wanted to be a doctor. However, when one is five years old they assume being a doctor only entails helping people, being nice to children and giving them lollipops and that seemed like the best career choice ever.

However, when Y/N was six years old they went on a bike ride with their next door neighbor, a girl their age named Rebecca. This particular neighborhood friend loved to play dangerously and had conceived a game like tag, however you had to stay on the bike the entire time. Although innocent on paper, about 12 minutes into the game Rebecca had stood up on the seat of her bicycle in an attempt to get a better reach at Y/N and tumbled over the front handlebars.

She shook it off quickly and by the time Y/N had rushed over to help she was already on her feet.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked in a panic.

Rebecca brushed some rocks off her shorts, looked up at Y/N and smiled, “Yep! That was so much fun!” she said, going in for a high five.

Rebecca however, was not okay and had failed to notice that two of the “rocks” she had brushed off were actually her two front teeth. When she smiled and spoke to Y/N they were overcome with panic when they saw her mouth, missing two teeth and gushing blood.

So naturally, they immediately passed out.

Rebecca quickly ran to get her mother, more concerned for Y/N than herself, and still hadn’t even noticed her teeth’s absence. Both children were driven to the hospital, and although Y/N woke up on the way, they got checked out to make sure they didn’t have a concussion.

Soon after they were clear Y/N’s parents arrived. Hovering over their six year old and asking all sorts of questions, the first and only thing Y/N thought to do is turn to their mother. “Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I don’t think I wanna be a doctor anymore.”

Y/N’s mother laughed and wrapped her arms around the crying child, “Maybe that’s not the best idea.”

Even with their fear of blood, Y/N career ambitions remained the same: help people, be nice to children, hand out lollipops. So when they graduated Y/N started their own candy store. It was the perfect job for such a sweet soul, and by the time they were 28 Y/N had perfected their storefront. Glass displays were replaced with plastic to prevent people cutting themselves if they broke, they keep a small collection of different patterned and themed band-aids right next to the cash register and without fail had at least one medical student working in the summer in between school years (in case of emergencies).

But no amount of prepping could help Y/N when Dr. Spencer Reid came into their store with his four year old godson.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched Spencer and Henry zoom around the empty store, Henry throwing all kinds of sugary sweets into his basket and Spencer encouraging the entire thing. Soon enough the two were at the register and dumping at least eighty dollars worth of candy on the counter. Y/N began ringing it up, but was soon interrupted by the small child, barely in sight because of the desk in front of him.

“Excuse me? Do you have a band-aid? I got a paper cut.”

“Yes I do! What kind of band-aid do you want?”

“Ummmm do you have Spiderman?”

“Of course I have Spiderman! Here you go,” they said, setting it on the counter.

“Can you put it on for me?” He reached up his little finger to show Y/N his cut.

Quickly jolting their head, Y/N panicked “Um maybe you could have your dad help you with that. . .”

“Of course, I’m sorry, and I’m actually his godfather. . . “ He looked up and noticed Y/N’s aversion to the cut, “It’s safe to look now.”

Y/N sighed, “I’m sorry, I just can’t stand blood. What did he cut it on?”

Henry was entertaining himself flipping through the pages of his godfather’s abnormally large book, not reading it of course, because although Henry was smart for a four year old, he was not yet fluent in Russian.

“Oh nothing that’s your fault,” the man said. He was then nudged by his godson, and apparently, personal wingman, “Um, I’m Spencer!”

“Hi Spencer! I’m Y/N,” they smiled, finishing their calculations, “Um, your total is $81.92”

He was thrown off, “That’s not right, it should be 96.37. . . Did you forget something?”

“Actually your forgetting my 15% injury discount, and the extra lollipop I give to nice kids,” they reached down to hand Henry a raspberry lemonade lollipop.

“You really don’t have to do that! It was my fault really-”

“No seriously, trust me I’m kind of ripping you off here. I combined the injury discount and the cute guy discount.”

Spencer blushed, “Um well maybe we could go get coffee sometime to make it up to me.”

“I would love that”

On this coffee date Y/N learned about Spencer’s job and was shocked he would go on a date with someone who was scared of papercuts. However Spencer explained he found it admirable that someone could be so affected by other people’s pain, and later into their relationship discussed how he wished he was as affected by the gore of his job as he was during the beginning.

Their romance worked perfectly, Spencer loved having someone waiting at home for him, a person who could be completely separate from work and the cases that affected him so much that he needed to talk about them typically ended up involving more manipulation than gore.

But just over a year in Y/N got a phone call from Aaron Hotchner.

Spencer had been shot in the neck.

They got to the hospital as soon as possible, and rushed to Spencer’s room, completely forgetting about the things they were almost certainly going to see.

So when Y/N walked in at the worst possible moment, as Spencer was getting his gauze changed and his open wound was in full view, they freaked out, letting out a quick scream and crouching to the ground, covering their eyes with their hands.

“Y/N! You’re here!”

Y/N did their best and eventually had made their way to Spencer’s bedside chairs, only having to peek twice. Once there, Y/N’s hands remained firmly locked over their eyes, both to protect themselves from the blood and to cover their panicked tears from Spencer.

“Y/N, close your eyes tight and remove your hands for me darling.”

They shook their head aggressively. Spencer sighed, “Trust me, I’ve got you.” So they did, and as they kept their eyes glued shut, Y/N felt Spencer use his thumb to wipe tears from their cheeks, before tying something around their eyes.

“See, now you can’t see the blood, and I can hold you,” he said, grabbing one of Y/N’s hands and kissing the back of it now that gauze had been tied around their eyes.

Quickly Y/N wrapped their arms around Spencer’s middle as best as they could with him laying down, and cried into him. Spencer soothed them by petting their hair, “It’s okay darling, they just changed the gauze so it’s gone now, there’s no more blood if you feel ready to take it off.”

Y/N sobbed more and ripped their makeshift blind fold off, “I’m so stupid. . . You got shot and you have to comfort me because of a little blood . . .”

“No, no, no. Don’t talk about yourself like that, you are not stupid. You’re scared and overwhelmed. I already knew I was okay but you didn’t when you came in there, not only that but as soon as you came into this extremely stressful situation you were greeted with your worst fear. You’re all I’m worried about right now.”

Y/N smiled “I’m so happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well luckily you don’t have to worry about it.”

-Thank you for reading!! please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

Holly’s tiny taglist!!: @hercleverboy @reidingmelodies @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyouleap-of-faith 

(let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

[blueposthings]

Little Informant (pt. 2)

Warnings: Violence, blood, language

Words: 2.1k+

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

You had taken your time in getting back home, the fifteen minute walk turned to two hours when you decided to take a stroll around town. It was late, too late for a frail girl like you to be roaming the streets of New York all by yourself. But you had to clear your mind. Besides, with your self-defense skills along with the trusty butterfly knife you always had with you at all times, you were pretty confident.

However, when you finally arrived back at your apartment, you had noticed several things out of place; the dust on the right side of the door frame, two feet above the floor, had a gap, you were sure you hadn’t touched it; the nail of one of the panels on the creaky floorboard was slanted, someone had tripped on it.

There was an intruder in your house.

You slowly grabbed your knife from your jacket pocket before reaching for your keys, intentionally shaking it in your fingers. You turned your keys and opened the door with your left hand, the knife on your right, ready to fight. When no one ambushed you, you crouched down like you were going to untie your shoes when in fact you reached for the gun you had stored below the shoe cabinet.

You replaced the knife in your hold with the handgun, holding it firmly with both of your hands before peeking out from the corner of your doorway. Sure enough, stood a man about six feet tall dressed in all black in your poor excuse of a kitchen, you noticed he was holding a pistol of his own in one hand and a framed picture of you and your father in the other.

“You do look like him, you know?” He said, acknowledging your presence.

“Who are you?” You had your gun trained on him. Your gaze unwavering, despite your heart trying to beat out of your ribcage.

“You can consider me an old family friend.” The man placed the frame back to the countertop as he turned to you.

“Why are you here?” You stood your ground at the front doorway as he approached you slowly, his gun in hand.

“When you opened that laptop, it sent a signal to us. We thought Rumlow had come back from the dead so I offered to go.” He said, ever so casually. “Then I found these photos and, I gotta say, I’m quite surprised. I never took your father as- well, a father.”

He was only a few feet in front of you now, your gun pointed straight to his chest. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“If you’re anything like Brock, you could be a great asset to us, Y/N-”

“How do you know my name?”

“Perhaps, you might want to consider joining us? Your father would be proud.”

“I’m not an asset,” you gritted out. “And I’m nothing like him.”

This perked your intruder’s attention, his head tilted slightly to the side. “Oh?”

You realized then that you might have spilled something you shouldn’t have. You felt your heart drop to your stomach, your hands struggling to keep your weapon steady.

“Do tell me, Y/N. What did you do with the information from that laptop?” His tone was now much sharper, accusing.

You searched your brain to try and find a believable lie, something that wouldn’t put your life in danger. In your moment of silence, the man in front of you grew impatient and furious.

“Where were you just now?”

“None of your business.” You finally said, your voice giving you away with a crack.

“What a shame.” The man sighed, bowing his head to the floor for a second. “I hope Brock’s gonna forgive me for this one.” Then he raised his gun at you, with anger in his eyes.

Time seemed to slow down when you pulled your trigger. However, the man managed to avoid it at the last second, the bullet only hitting his shoulder. The force pushed him back and he let go of his gun, his good hand holding his wound.

“Little shit.” He cursed before charging at you.

You re-aimed your gun, but due to the close distance between the two of you, he successfully pushed it away. He used his whole body weight to knock you back to the wall, resulting in you losing your grip of the pistol in your hand. You grabbed your knife from your pocket, forcing the butt to his head, making him groan as he stumbled ever so slightly. You pushed him back by the injured shoulder, your thumb digging in to the bullet wound. You then kneed him in the stomach, your dominant hand twirling open the knife and stabbing him in the back. You pushed his body off of you with all your might and tried to make a run for it.

You only managed to get a couple of steps away when he grabbed your foot. You tripped and fell face first to the floor. You groaned, your head was spinning and you could feel blood oozing from your nose. The intruder dragged himself up with his good arm while you tried to collect yourself. You still had the knife in your hand so you tried to land another stab to his leg, but he blocked it, grabbing your hand and twisting it so you’d drop the weapon. But what you lack in size and power, you made up with agility -when he yanked your arm up, you used the momentum to help you jump up and straddle his neck with your two legs, your arms holding him in a choke hold. He tried to get you off but between the bullet and the stab wound, he was already losing a lot of blood. He stumbled around, crashing through your coffee table and one of your bookshelves. At one point he went close enough to the TV stand where you had an old glass vase on top. You grabbed the vase and swung it to his face, it broke and he fell unconscious with you below him. You were sure you must have heard a crack, but with the adrenaline numbing your pain you couldn't tell if it was his bone or yours.

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

When you noticed he wasn’t moving, you took a second to collect your breath. Eventually, you pushed him off and got up, grabbing your knife and both guns before running off.

“And we believe the kid?” Clint crossed his arms. He stared at the back of his teammate’s head, almost seeing the cogs in his skull turning.

“Yes, I know she was telling the truth.” Steve said, his voice an octave lower than it usually is. “I could feel it.”

“No offense, Cap. But when it comes to the sake of the planet’s security, I would rather not go on gut feeling.”

“Have you considered maybe this is just your guilt speaking?” Natasha chimed into the conversation from the other side of the table.

Steve was silent for a moment. “It’s not,” he finally said, although it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

“As much as I hate to say this, but I think the oldman’s right,” Tony sat back down on the closest chair to the front of the room. “I don’t think she was lying, at least not about this.”

“I say, it is better to be safe than sorry.” Vision spoke up, his gaze not leaving the files displayed on the holograms.

“He’s got a point. We have this information- the location of everything. Why don’t we go see for ourselves.” Rhodes added.

When no one interjected, the room took it as an agreement. Tony was about to tell FRIDAY to display the closest base that they could locate when the A.I. had another idea.

“Tony, there has been a 911 call from the address you told me to look out for.”

This got the man on his feet. “When?”

“Just a few seconds ago. The neighbors reported hearing gunshots and loud crashes. The police are on their way, they should arrive in eight to ten minutes.”

“We can get there in two.”

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

They got to your apartment in exactly eighty four seconds. Tony, along with Steve, Clint, Sam and Natasha rushed past some of your curious neighbors and arrived in front of your door. Your keys were still in the door knob when Natasha pushed the door open. Obviously the first thing they noticed was the situation of your living room. And the unconscious man on the floor.

Clint approached the bleeding man, checking for a pulse. “He’s alive, barely.”

Natasha tossed him a pair of handcuffs and the archer gathered the unknown man’s hands before securing him. She then entered a nearby closet in an unsuccessful attempt of finding the apartment’s owner.

The rest of them looked around the ransacked apartment trying to get an idea of what happened or who this man was. Steve picked up one of the photographs that was shattered on the floor, the one your intruder was looking at earlier. There was a pit forming in his stomach as he processed what he was seeing. You’d taken the photograph at your middle school father-daughter dance. He was always at work, but that day he had taken a day off to attend the event for you, even took you shopping to get a nice pastel pink dress and a tie for him to match. You grinned in that photo, unintentionally showing off your braces; your father had his hand around your frame, a gentle yet charismatic smile adorning his lips.

Sam went further to the apartment, ending up in your room. He took in the decorations -or rather lack thereof. Your walls contrasted those of the living room, aside from one old poster of a band Sam didn’t recognize, there was only a bed in the centre of the room. He stepped out of the room and entered another. There was more personality, more life, in this room. Ironic really, seeing as it was your late father’s. There were pictures of him and you on his bedside table, among other things. His bed was unmade but dusty. He spotted a glimmer beyond the papers strewn across the floor. Curiosity led him to picking it up; it was a dog tag. He pocketed it before appearing back to the rest, shaking his head.

“Hey kid!” Tony hollered. “It’s Tony! With The Avengers?”

Silence.

Suddenly the front door re-opened with a force. The five heroes immediately got to a fighting stance.

“NYPD! Put your hands where I can see ‘em!”

The team sighed, half in relief and half disappointment. Upon realizing that the Avengers themselves were in front of them, the police officers lowered their weapon with faces full of questions.

“With all due respect,” one of them spoke nervously, “what are you guys doing here?”

“Our jurisdiction.” Tony snarked with sarcasm before going back to looking around the room.

“That man needs medical help.” Natasha stepped up to the officer, pointing at the body on the ground. “We don’t know who he is yet but we assume he’s bad so keep an eye on him.”

Steve rested his shield on his arm before picking up one of the framed pictures that looked the most recent before giving it to a different officer. “Look for this girl, she might be in danger. And injured.” It was one your father had taken of you only a few months before you last saw him, you had grown a little since then but Steve thought it should do.

“There might be no need for that,” Tony called. “One of the security cams across the street spotted a girl running away from this building, must be her.”

Steve nodded. “Let’s go.” And with that they were off, leaving the police to take care of the crime scene and culprit while they search for you with the guidance of FRIDAY.

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

You finally decided you couldn’t run any further; your chest was heaving, your head was spinning, your back was killing you, and you’re pretty sure the man had sprained your arm. You stopped at an empty alley, a good block away from your building. You let your body slide down the wall to the concrete below you in exhaustion. You lifted your shirt up to see a purple bruise starting to form on your upper stomach. You raised your hand to wipe off the blood staining your face but only ended up spreading the red liquid everywhere before you limped, your muscles giving out. You sighed, turning your brain trying to find out how you were going to get out of this one.

Then you felt a presence to your left. Your instincts kicked in, grabbing the gun you had carried and aiming it to the figure.

“Wow, hey. Put that down.” The figure said, three more people emerging behind him. “It’s me.”

God damn the Avengers. You thought, lowering the gun in your hand. You let your head lull back to the wall behind you.

You heard a metal clink from your other side. “You’ll manage, huh?”

You couldn’t find the energy in you to return the attitude.

Tag list: @iamthescarlettwitch @sincerely-kizzy @ineedmorefanfics @moonyinthestars

I know this is very much long overdue, i hope you'll still enjoy it regardless xx

[binxyu]

Jimin realizes that maybe you aren’t as innocent as you perceive yourself to be and he uses that against you in the most delicious and lustful way.

>>Pairing: Park Jimin (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | boyfriend!jimin x girlfriend!reader

>>Word Count: 1.9k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks:  Pillow humping, anal play, begging, bondage, discipline, dirty talk, degration, corruption, crying, choking, edging, overstimulation, oral (giving), humiliation, helplessness, hair pulling, public sex (kinda), masturbation, marking, manhandling, teasing, vibrators, collars, spanking, scratching, size kink, windows/mirrors, and unprotected sex

Jimin has always believed you were innocent. You avoided sex talk at all times and he never really went rough with you since he was scared to go past his boundaries, but hearing your pretty moans as soon as he entered your apartment made that thought go out the window.

“Naughty girl. She lied to me about not touching herself”, he chuckled as he walked quietly through your home. Jimin’s original plan was to introduce you to a vibrator and collars, knowing you’d look so pretty with one on. He had a small bag with him with those items in it.

“Fuck! Jimin, I need you”, you whimpered, not only because of the pleasure you were getting from the pillow underneath you, rubbing against your clit, but also because you knew your boyfriend was there and listening. You heard the door open when he came in and you wanted to give him a show.

“And here I thought you were innocent”, Jimin smirked from your doorframe, leaning against it and watching as you froze and looked back at him, “you better finish now slut. You know my rule about touching yourself without permission” he gestured with his head for you to continue. He looked genuinely pissed and you smiled innocently, wanting to push his buttons as much as you could.

“I said fucking move”, he walked over to you, gripping your hair roughly and pulling your head back. His other hand wrapped the pink collar he got you around your throat.

“Angel... how ironic now”, he chuckled and you looked up at him, his eyes dark with lust and power. You liked it. The tag with the name “angel” chimed when Jimin flicked it with his finger.

“Now fucking move”, Jimin spanked your bare ass, leaving a bright red handprint on your cheek. He pulled a chair up and sat back to enjoy the show as you started moving again, moaning again as the friction started again. Jimin watched as the tag of the collar moved back and forth as you did, wanting to ruin you at the sight.

“Stop moaning. Make one more noise and I’ll make you ride it all night until you can’t anymore”, he warned you and you put your hand over your mouth as you used the other to support you. Jimin loved how well you listened to his order and he could tell you were struggling to hold in your moans.

“Move faster”, you shook your head, already shaking and close to your orgasm. Jimin noticed and got up off his chair, grabbing your hips and pushing you down into the bed. Your face was muffled into the sheets and Jimin roughly spanked you again on the other cheek, making you whimper.

“Such a disobedient cockslut. I’m going to ruin your pretty little pussy. I bet you’d love that. I bet that’s why you’ve been such a fucking brat”, he whispered in your ear and you squirmed as Jimin got something out of his bag and then straddled your waist to keep you down. He spread your legs and put some lube on his fingers before inserting two into your tight asshole, stretching it out. All you could do is whine into the sheets from the new feeling. You had never experienced anal before this.

“You’re going to take everything I give you with no complaints. Complain once and I’ll tie you up and leave you with this in you”, Jimin gripped your hair again and pulled your head back as he pushed the long purple vibrator inside of you, putting it on the highest setting which made you scream. You already felt so full.

“J-Jimin I can’t! No more!”, you begged, gripping the sheets at the unfamiliar sensation. You felt so sensitive and helpless.

“You should’ve thought about that before you decided to disobey me angel”, Jimin cooed, gripping your wrists and pulling you up to stand. You shook and tried your best not to fall onto your knees.

“How about we show the neighbors just how much of a dirty whore you are. I bet they’d love the show”, your eyes went wide as Jimin pushed you against the wall, your bare breasts pressed against the cold wood. Your boyfriend ripped open the curtains and you saw the light of the big window enter the bedroom. Jimin gripped your hips and forced you onto your knees in front of him.

“Suck”, he simply stated and you looked behind you, knowing your ass was facing the neighbor’s house, the vibrator barely sticking out. Your face went red at the idea of sucking your boyfriend off in front of who knew who, but you saw the look in his eyes and hesitantly unzipped his jeans. You pulled them down along with his boxers and felt a new wave of arousal go through you at the sight of his erection.

You took the base of his cock into your hands, slowly pumping it and looked up to watch Jimin’s reaction, watching as his head went back a little and a small moan slipped past his lips. You kept eye contact with him as you kitten licked his tip, making him chuckle at how quickly your innocent behavior changed. He gripped your hair again and forced your head down onto his cock, taking all of him down your throat.

Jimin gripped your hair with both of his hands, moving your head back and forth and fucking your throat. Tears started to form in your eyes from the rough feeling of his dick rubbing against the walls of your throat.

You put your hands onto Jimin’s thighs, scratching them slightly as he thrusted in and out of your throat, using you however he wanted. Your legs were shaking from the sensation of the vibrator deep inside of your ass and your boyfriend tilted your head back as he came down your throat, making you swallow all of it and you whimpered after you choked on some of it.

“Good whore. You look so pretty like that”, Jimin pulled his cock out of your mouth and admired you. The light of the window shun on your skin beautifully and you already looked like a mess on your knees for him. He loved the sight.

“Stand up and lean against the window”, Jimin snapped his fingers as a signal to do it quickly and you got up and stood in front of the window, not sure what to do. Jimin scoffed and gripped your hips, turning you around and slamming you against the window. He picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, making you let out another small scream from the new position of the vibrator inside your ass. Your bare ass was pressed against the window and the heat of the sun warmed up your skin.

“I’m going to ruin you and make you scream so loud that the whole neighborhood knows how good I fuck you”, he leaned forward and started to suck marks onto your neck as he pushed himself inside of your tight pussy slowly, groaning into your skin. By the time he was completely inside of you, you were crying from the overwhelming feeling of being so full. Your nails dug into Jimin’s back as he slowly started to thrust in and out of you, but the sight of you crying made him want to pound as hard as he could into you.

“Tell me how good I destroy your little pussy angel”, Jimin moaned as he sped up his pace a little, slamming hard into you and making the glass behind you shake with each thrust. He kissed you passionately before pulling back to let you answer.

“Ah fuck! Y-yes sir. You fuck me so well”, you whimpered and Jimin stopped before pulling completely out of you. You whined and was about to beg him to come back, but you yelped when Jimin turned you around and slammed you back against the glass. Your entire front half was now on full display for whoever passed by on the street, your nipples getting hard from the cold glass and pressure.

“Sir? I bet that’s what you call me when you’re humping your little pillow, isn’t it angel?”, Jimin roughly pushed back into you without warning and you moaned his name from how deep he was inside of you now. His hands trailed to your stomach, pushing down to feel the bulge that he formed in your tummy. You looked down and the sight made you shake and sob, begging for him to go even faster.

“S-sir, please people are coming”, your cheeks went red when you saw a car coming down the street. Jimin continued to ram into you, not giving a shit. Your boobs bounced up and down as his hips snapped into your’s and tears were streaming down your cheeks from all the stimulation.

“Let them see”, he whispered in your ear, “let them see how much of a whore you are for my cock. Let them see how much of a mess you are right now”. You sobbed more and Jimin wrapped his hand around your throat, making the tag on the collar move again as he pulled you back to look at your reflection in the glass as the car drove by.

“That’s what they saw. What a pretty sight. I bet they’re jerking themselves off right now because of you”, he rubbed your clit and that was all the stimulation you needed to cum all over his cock, sobbing as the vibrator continued to go and Jimin’s dick continued to ram in and out of you. You could hear the sticky sound of your cum being pounded in and out of your pussy.

“I’m going to fill you up and make you show all the people your pretty leaking hole”, Jimin continued to overstimulate you by rubbing your clit and fucked you with his rough pace, picking you up by your thighs and spreading your legs, so he could continue to thrust into you. You put your face into his neck as you saw another car coming. Jimin came inside of you, filling you up.

“Let’s show them how pretty my angel is”, he chuckled as he pulled out and you went red as Jimin put you on a chair in front of the window quickly, spreading your legs so that they were on either side of the walls beside the window. Your hole completely spread and on display for anyone to see.

You tried to close your legs, but the car had already passed by. Jimin held your legs open and you gripped his arm to try to stop him, but he was stronger.

“Hold them open”, he let go and you were scared to disobey, but you tried to move away when you saw Jimin take his belt off, bonding your wrists together behind the chair.

“Move before an hour is up and I’ll do it all over again”, he kissed your cheek from behind you and your mouth fell open in shock before trying to get out of the restraint.

“Jimin! What the fuck!”, you looked back at him and he chuckled.

“Maybe next time you’ll be a good girl from the start doll”.

[starlightrows]

Something Sweet

Chapter 1 - Spring Festival Funnel Cakes

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Series Masterlist

Pairing: Modern!Paz Vizsla x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: None!

Summary: Spring has sprung and business is booming and the community is celebrating with a weekend long festival... that you get to spend attending a vendors booth next to the handsome baker from down the street

The depths of winter in a place where it snows is not the ideal time to be moving your whole life and business. But you didn’t have much of a choice, you had already gotten the business license taken care of, the storefront purchased, and suppliers lined up. And with the lease on your apartment being up, it’s now or never. So with a small moving truck full of your belongings all packed up, you set off towards the city to finally chase your dream of opening a flower shop.

Your new apartment is nice, a bit smaller than your previous one but that comes with living alone in the city on a tight budget. But still it’s a one bedroom and it’s enough for just you. The storefront is beautiful. It’s located downtown in what you had assumed was a historic district of the city, but somehow is not classified as such. The buildings are lovely red brick exterior with large open windows for passers by to peek in, with quaint awnings over every door. Your store is located on the corner, with plenty of space to set up floral displays and hang potted plants in the windows. Come spring time this is going to be amazing, and beautiful and everything you dreamed of. You just hoped that others would think so too and come shop there.

By the time mid February rolls around there is still snow in the mountains, and the occasional rain and snow storm that blows through the area but it’s not as bad as when you first moved. Your apartment is coming along nicely, and your store is looking pretty good as well. You’re hoping to open by March 1st, but that’s still two and half weeks away. You’ve got plenty of time to finish painting, assembling shelves, figuring out how to want to arrange your displays, and set up the black board you’re planning to use to decorate the wall behind the checkout counter. You thought it might be fun to use chalk paint to decorate it for the various seasons, write specials, and do holiday countdowns.

You’re a little frustrated with yourself that you weren’t able to get everything in order to be open this weekend. Valentine’s Day is the prime time of the year for a flower and botanical shop. But spring is coming and that means birthdays, weddings, prom season, graduations, date nights, Mother’s Day and spring decorating! But for today it’s just you, a pair of worn overalls and a sweater, and a little can of paint for detailing the floor boards inside the shop. No flowers or valentines dates for you this year. You did see that there was a nice looking bakery a little ways down the street, maybe you could pick up a little treat for after dinner or some nice bread for making fancy toast.

Just the thought of it makes your mouth water, and your tummy rumble. Maybe you could make it an afternoon snack instead. You cap the lid to the paint bucket, and wash off your hands in the sink in the back. It’s not actively snowing but it is freezing outside, so you pull your jacket on over your sweater and lock the shop up behind you. You steal a quick glance at it, admiring how well it’s coming along, before you tuck your hands into your pockets and make your way down the street to the bakery.

It’s getting on in the afternoon, and the bakery isn’t very busy at the moment. But you’ve seen the lines in the morning when the bread is fresh out of the ovens, hopefully there will be something left for you.

You pull the door to the bakery open and step inside, glancing up at the sound of the tinkling bell that alerts the man behind the counter to your presence. He’s probably the tallest, broadest, burliest man you’ve ever seen; and then he smiles at you. It’s a smile that takes up his whole face, and lights up his eyes.

“Hey, welcome in” his voice is deep and sweet. You can literally feel your heart skip a beat and you almost forget why you came in here.

“Hi, I was hoping you might have some pastries or baguettes” you say, approaching the counter. He seems to blank out for a second, because he doesn’t answer you immediately.

“Uh- no sorry no pastries. But I do have a couple of French baguettes left,” he says. You’re a little disappointed about the pastries, perhaps you needed to come in earlier in the day. He pulls a baguette from the bread counter and offers it to you in a long parchment bag.

While he rings up your bread, you take the time to look around at his displays and other breads. “What’s your specialty?” You find yourself asking, thoroughly impressed with the wide variety he has to offer.

“I’m really proud of my ciabatta rolls,” he says earnestly “but I’ve been working on a new roasted tomato and herb crusted bread that excited about,”

You smile at his enthusiasm, it’s great to see people who are passionate about their craft. “I’ll have to come back and try it when you’ve got it figured out,”

You thank the kind man, and step back out into the cold to make your way back to your shop. Instantly you regret not asking for his name, but then again he just works down the street you’ll find out eventually.

———

February passed by in an overcast and sometimes snowy daze. You are able to meet your deadline and open your new store on March 1st. It’s finally a little sunnier on your opening weekend and just that simple fact has people outside and milling about. People are anxious to usher in spring, and there is no better way to brighten up the tail end of winter than by having fresh flowers, lush green house plants and aesthetically pleasing succulents around to decorate your space. Your entire store front is practically picked bare by the end of your first day! Good thing you get fresh deliveries every day, and have a fully stocked back room to replace all your wares for tomorrow.

Business slows down just a touch, but you’ve still got steady foot traffic for most of the day all through the spring. The weather is warming up, and the days are getting longer. Prom season is coming up and you’ve already pre cutting ribbon and bulk ordering corsage boxes. Graduations will be coming up soon too, you make sure to mark on your calendar when the local schools ceremonies are so you can have bouquets and lei ready in time.

One warm afternoon in April it’s a little slow and you’ve already swept the store, washed the windows inside and out, and potted 15 new plants in the back; so you take a well deserved break by standing behind the counter and reading a book. The bell on the door chimes and you look up to see a woman wearing jeans and a polo shirt with the city logo embroidered on the chest.

“Hi my name is Jennifer I’m with the city’s Parks and Recreation department,” she introduces herself and offers her hand to shake. You smile and accept her hand, giving your name as well.

“I’m stopping by all the local businesses to give you this” she hands you a flyer “the city’s annual spring festival is coming up at the end of May. Traditionally we bring in food trucks and invite arts and crafts vendors from the area to come sell their pieces and get some exposure, in the last couple years we’ve been expanding it to other local businesses too. There’s more information on the website to sign up to get you a booth if you’re interested. I think having a plants and flowers booth would be perfect for the spring festival”

She stays to chat about the festival for a couple minutes describing how fun it is to see all the local artists showing their craft, children getting their faces painted, live music, picnicking, and coming together as a community to celebrate the change in seasons.

“This city really comes alive at community events,” she tells you “Free concerts in the park in the summer, cultural learning events, fun runs, around the holidays we have a big Christmas tree lighting ceremony and winter carnival, don’t even get me started on how much this city goes all out for Halloween!”

Jennifir leaves after another couple minutes of excited chatter about the various events put on by the city, and continues on down the street to invite your business neighbors to attend the festival as vendors too. The whole interaction leaves you thrilled at the opportunity to advertise your business, make some more money for the shop, and be part of the community! Your long forgotten book is tucked away in favor of pulling out your laptop to register yourself with the city planning committee to participate in the festival.

The next few weeks you work extra hard to get through prom season, and put in more hours than usual to get everything prepared for graduations as well. The days tick by in May. Mother’s Day is an amazing weekend, you put up a temporary photo shoot wall for mom’s, daughters, grandmothers, or really anyone to come in and take a picture with a flower wall backdrop. Another amazing success full of happy smiling people!

Finally the weekend of the festival arrives, people from the city have been cleaning up the park and working their tails off to get everything perfect for the event. A massive stage is erected in the park, the usual parking lots are lined with enclosed pop up tents for the vendors selling hot foods, extra trash cans are placed everywhere, and early Saturday morning the local businesses are arriving with their SUV’s and vans full of goods to set up their tables.

You are among that crowd. Busily working to get your table set up under a pop up tent for shade, your flowers and potted plants ready for display, making sure you have enough cash for making change in transactions, and cardboard boxes to help people carry their new plant babies home with them.

All around you other local businesses are setting up their booths too. You recognize a few of them that you’ve visited already, but you’re looking forward to seeing more of them. Beside you, you absolutely recognize the tall, broad, and exceptionally handsome man that owns the bakery down the street from you. Spending the whole weekend stuck next to eye candy, and artisan bread… even if you didn’t sell a single flower this weekend at least you’d have a good view.

The morning is warming up, people will be arriving soon, your coffee long since gone. You steal a glance over at the man carefully arranging his bread displays. He glances over at you too, and grins at catching you staring.

“Morning,” he says cheekily

“Good morning,” you reply, going a bit warm in the cheeks.

“Flower booth for a spring festival? I think you’re in the running for making the most profit this weekend,” he jokes looking at your pretty flower displays and cute potted plants. You laughed a little and eyed his selection of breads hungrily

“I dunno, people don’t want to carry around a heavy plant all day. But they do want to snack on some delicious bread,”

He laughs, and extends a hand to introduce himself. “I’m Paz by the way,”

You shake his large hand and tell him your name as well. It’s a firm handshake, worn hands and strong forearms presumably from kneading bread dough. The thought makes your tummy flutter, and your heartbeat quicken.

And so it begins. The two of you pull up chairs at the edges of your pop up tents, and spend the whole day laughing, talking, interacting with customers and making sales. At the end of the first day, he sends you home with a loaf of bread with Asiago cheese baked into the top, and you gift him a pretty green succulent and promise him they are almost impossible to screw up taking care of.

The second day of the festival is much the same, except this time he brings you a breakfast sandwich he prepared ahead of time.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I need a taste tester. I’ve been thinking about expanding my menu to add breakfast sandwiches,” he tells you with a shy smile. You gladly accept the sandwich and have to control yourself not to make embarrassing noises when you taste it.

“You made this from scratch?” You ask, taking another bite

“Well I made the bun,” he says, unwrapping his own homemade breakfast sandwich

“If you start selling this, I promise you’ll put places like Starbucks out of business,” you tell him “honestly, I’m gonna have to start coming down there every morning before I open,”

In his head, Paz thinks that would be an absolute dream to have you come see him everyday. But that’s not the kind of thing you tell someone you met 24 hours ago, so he settles for something else instead

“How far is your shop? Maybe you can have your breakfast delivered,”

“You didn’t know?” You ask “I just opened my shop on the far corner of the street your bakery is on. I actually came in to try your bread a couple months ago,”

Paz is a little embarrassed, he knew a business moved in down there but had no idea it was your flower shop. “No way! I remember you coming in to the bakery, but I had no idea you worked down the street,”

“To be fair the store wasn’t open yet, and I somehow managed to forget to introduce myself,” you tell him.

Just like the day before, the two of you spend the day laughing and chatting in between greeting customers and promoting your respective businesses.

In the early afternoon a man with shaggy dark hair, sun glasses, tattoos and a very cute little boy wearing a green bucket hat came over and started making conversation with Paz. He glanced over at you.

“Have you met Din yet?” Paz asks you “He owns the tattoo parlor across from the bakery,”

You smile and shake his hand, you see his little boy eyeing your selection of plants. “Do you want to pick one out buddy?” You ask the little boy, he nods enthusiastically and chooses a little pot with the beginnings of a strawberry plant in it.

“Shorty and I were just gonna go grab some funnel cake before we head home for nap, I just stopped by to see if you wanted some,” Din says

“Yeah, that would be great!” Paz says.

Din turns to you, and extends the same offer. You politely decline, claiming there’s no way you’d ever finish one on your own.

“You can split one with me,” Paz beams. Din nods and leads his son off into the crowd to acquire the sweet treats.

“I can’t believe you haven’t met everyone yet,” Paz says “We all get together on Tuesday nights after hours for beers,”

“Who is we exactly?” You ask, sitting back down in the folding chair the festival committee had generously provided.

“Most of the shop owners on our street, and a couple of others from around the corner. They actually convinced me to move out here and start my business a couple years ago,”

“I had no idea there was such a community amongst the business owners around here,” you admit.

“You’ve gotta come meet everyone next week,” he insists “You’ll fit right in!”

Your heart warms at the sentiment. One of your big fears moving to the city was not knowing anyone and struggling to find a new group of friends. This could be promising!

Din and his son make their way back and come sit behind the tables with you and Paz. You and Paz do split the funnel cake, and have a grand time chatting with Din and his little boy.

“You’re telling me you’ve been in business for three months and haven’t been dragged into the group? You’ve gotta start coming to Tuesday night drinks,” Din laughs

“So I’ve been told. I think you boys have convinced me, I’ll be there on Tuesday,” you laugh. Paz and Din give a little cheer.

“Everyone will be so excited to meet you! But until then I think the little stinker needs to get home for a nap,” Din says scoops up his sleepy son who’s been dozing in his dad’s lap for the last 15 minutes “I’ll see you Tuesday,”

Din gives a one handed wave and disappears back into the crowd.

The remainder of the afternoon is a bit slower, the last remaining festival

“I’ll come down and pick you up so you don’t have to show up on your own,” Paz offers “Besides I need to check out your shop!”

“Awe! Thank you, that would be great!” You reply, a subtle warmth blooming in your cheeks at the thought of him coming to visit your shop.

Your heart does somersaults in your chest. He’s so sweet and kind. And he’s inviting you to be part of his friend group. That has to be a good sign, right?

Taglist: @maybege @gallowsjoker @simping-for-clones @mxndoscyarika @hayley-the-comet

AN: This whole story, but this chapter specifically is very special to me. The city this story takes place in is based off of the two cities I have lived in, in my life. I grew up going to festival that takes place in late spring, that’s really important to the town I was born and grew up in... and the new city that I moved to as an adult is known for its public markets on Saturday’s where local vendors sell their flowers and their baked goods. I am just days away from moving back to my home city (temporarily) and due to covid I didn’t have the opportunity to attend the public market the last two years in a row. I don’t know if I’ll get to participate in the spring festival in my hometown this year.

[eirikaanemo]

A Pitch Perfect Duet

Warnings: Some kissing, descriptions of stage fright

All feedback is welcome!

Thanks to @eligaxy for giving me the idea to write this!

Venti x GN!Reader

1.3k Words

Continue below the cut

Part Two to Pitch Perfect Pair

Somehow as you stood there at the corner of the street, you wondered what in the world you were doing there. There were just so many people around and you just felt so out of place. You clutched your flute closer nervously. How did you feel so unprepared? The past month had been spent practicing! Your skills weren’t just where they were before, you’d gotten even better than you’d ever been. So why, why did you feel like crawling into a hole and dying?

Practicing had been a lot of fun, and not just because there was plenty of time to steal kisses. Just being there and spending time with Venti made your heart sing louder than your flute could ever play. His love for music was on full display, shining through his smile. And you love that smile so, so much. He had helped you through the emotional baggage that was your mother��s death and helped you love playing for yourself just as much as playing for other people.

If you had been close before you had grown even closer. He practically lives at your house at this point and he brought a kind of light with him that made you wonder if this is what you and your empty house were missing all along. It seemed to be what you were missing all along. Everything just seemed to be so natural with him, from practicing to making dinner to making out. That last thought had you blushing red and a laugh pulled you out of your thoughts.

“What’s on your mind? You’re as red as an apple!” Venti teased as he poked your cheek. “Um, nothing,” you squeaked. Venti hummed doubtfully but didn’t press. “Are you ready?” He asked. “It looks like almost everyone is here! Lisa even managed to drag Jean along.”

Your face goes from a rosy red to a pale white in seconds and Venti notices the change immediately. “Hey, is everything okay? You’ll do great! We’ve been practicing a lot! Remember how your grumpy neighbors even dropped by to complement us?” You did remember that. It was one of the strangest moments of your entire life. When they’d dropped by you had fully expected a lecture on being too loud and how you both needed to quiet down. So when they had smiled and thanked you for the music you hadn’t even known what to think!

Some color returned to your face as you nodded. “I’m just nervous,” you admitted, “I’ve never performed for so large of a crowd before. We only really played at home with each other. This is really out of my comfort zone and I’m doing my best but it’s just really hard.” Venti grabbed your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Everything will go fine, I promise.” The sincerity in his eyes helped you relax as you nodded your head and took a deep breath. “Alright, let’s give this a try,” you said, determined.

He tugged you over, closer to the corner where you planned to perform and the crowd grew quiet. You fiddled some with your flute but did your best to give off an air of confidence and poise. Venti, ever the showman, introduced your little performance before pulling out his lyre and making sure you were ready. He strummed the first notes, you lifted your flute to your lips, and you were off.

Wanting your duet to be memorable, Venti had taught you the flute part of a song he had written and played a long time ago. It was a majestic melody. The tune seemed to soar like the birds in the sky. The harmonies felt as sweeping as the branches of Vanessa’s tree. The rhythm was different from any of the songs you knew and felt lively and haunting at the same time. Together all this created a beautiful song that brings to mind ancient days of magic, valor, and mystery.

The audience was entranced by the music that you and Venti wove expertly. Even those who were just in the area came a little closer to see where the music was coming from. Your crowd grew as you continued the song as more and more people flocked to your performance. Thankfully you didn’t notice any of this since you were in the habit of closing your eyes while you played. It helped you focus better on the music and remembering what you practiced.

So when you finished the song and opened your eyes and saw the size of the crowd you froze up. That was a lot of people. And they were all silent and staring at you. Oh no. Did you mess up? Was there something on your face? Is something wrong?

Venti grabs your wrist before you can get too wound up and pulls you into a bow. As you finish your bow, the street corner rings with applause. Someone, probably Bennette, whoops from the back of the crowd and Klee whistles from Albedo’s side. A small smile sneaks onto your face that slowly grows into a grin as you bask in their enjoyment of your performance. Practicing was nice, but other people appreciating all your hard work just gives you a special kind of feeling.

After a while of congratulations and compliments, the crowd dispersed and the two of you were left alone. Venti slid his hand from your wrist to your hand and squeezed it gently. “See? What did I say? Everything went great,” he stated confidently. “They all loved it! You had nothing to be afraid of, so don’t worry about it too much next time, okay?”

“Who said anything about there being a next time?” You teased. “But this was so much fun! Please can we do it again?” He begged, pulling out his puppy dog eyes. You never could resist the puppy dog eyes and he knew it. “Fine,” you sighed, “I was just joking anyways. It would be an honor to keep playing duets with you.”

He grinned and tugged your hand. “Let’s get home, I have a surprise for you.” Curious about what he could be talking about, you followed him home. Thankfully it wasn’t too far away so your walk wasn’t very long. Venti chattered the whole way there about how excited he was for your surprise. By the time you got there you were figuratively on the edge of your seat.

Once you got inside you closed the door he grabbed you in a great big hug that made you feel all cozy, soft, and tingly inside. You buried your head in his shoulder, returned the hug, and breathed in deeply. He smelled like dandelion wine, cecelias, and the sort of freshness only the wind can bring. This was one of your favorite smells and you’d gotten very familiar with it during the past month.

Eventually Venti released you from the hug to gently hold the sides of your head, moving so that your foreheads were pressed together. He smiled proudly. “You did so well,” he said. “I’m really lucky to have a partner like you. All that practice was worth it, we really did have perfect pitch.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your nose, and everywhere else on your face. You laughed and basked in the attention he was giving you. Pulling away for a second, he grinned like the love struck fool you’d made him. “I love you so much,” he proclaimed as he went in for a kiss on the lips.

While you’d kissed during your practice sessions, this one felt different. It was slow, meaningful, and full of all the emotion he could pour into it. Kissing him back felt natural and your heart felt full to bursting with all your love for him. It felt like you were falling in love with him all over again.

Eventually you had to pull away for air. Both of you had gentle smiles on your faces and soft eyes so full of your love for each other. “I love you too,” you whispered back, then went back in for another kiss. You spent the rest of the day in each other’s arms, enjoying every moment together.

[claralaclarividente-fics]

Rosegarden Week- Day 1: Cuddles

Hello friends!! First day of Rosegarden Week, let’s keep this sweet week going!

______________________

“Don’t worry lil sis, you’ll be able to come when you grow up big and strong like me!” Yang yelled from the door, one arm wrapped around Blake’s shoulder and the other wrapped around Weiss.

“Yeah, Ruby. Don’t worry, you’ll get there soon.” Enthused Weiss, continuing to tease Ruby.

The girl in question only shot daggers at her friends and burrowed deeper in her cocoon of blankets.

Blake regarded her leader with a look of sympathy but decided against saying anything. She herself had been at that age that she wanted to be more independent, do grown up things, but then landed herself in Adam’s clutches. Rookie mistake of burning stages when time is your best ally.

Checking her scroll, Blake announced the time, and tugged on the blonde’s arm lightly. Burn as she might have been, Blake decided that being in Yang’s clutches was way better.

“Kay, Rubes! We´re leaving!” Weiss nudged Yang’s side and pulled, rolling her eyes.

No answer.

Ruby wrapped herself in a blanket, grumbling at her sister’s farewell from the door, too engrossed in her musings to truly care for a goodbye. The door closed mutedly, a gust of wind shuddered the windowpanes, and still Ruby fumed silently.

It had finally happened. Ruby’s most embarrassing moment of her life, one that no one would let her live down.

Even after all this time of fighting Grimm and being promoted to Huntress status, Ruby still got thrown out of a nightclub, planting her butt on a bank of snow, because she was 17 and thus, still considered a minor.

Twice.

‘It’s just so unfair!’, Ruby thought after brooding a bit more in furious quiet. ‘I risk my butt out there every day, and I can’t have fun!’. While very true, it was the middle of winter, and her coming of age birthday would not come for another year.

A few minutes passed before her mood lifted a bit. She had been putting off exploring the Atlas Academy kitchens, as well as their rec room. She was free to do as she pleased. Sighing softly, she shook the remaining grumpiness from her shoulders and rolled out of bed. She still had on the clubbing clothes Weiss had chosen for her: red shimmery top and black leather coupled with soggy tights after being pushed down a snowbank twice.

Peeling off her street wear, Ruby clad herself in her favorite long-sleeved pajama set, and wrapped a gray fleece blanket around her shoulders as she walked out the door.

She was gonna have some fun tonight, even if it were by her lonesome.

__________________________________________

Oscar hummed as he worked on incorporating the eggs into the sugary butter mixture in his bowl. He was in such a good mood, even after all his friends had gone out to party like hooligans. He was sure that the coming tales from the partying teens would make his breakfast much more interesting.

The academy kitchens were at his full disposition and Oscar was too much of a homebody to care that he was alone. He had dressed in his Nora-Issued Pumpkin Pete patterned pajama set (all members of team JNPR just had to match!) and a fluffy brown robe loosely tied to his waist. His shoulders were relaxed and with ease he found himself whisking away in his own world of warmth and coziness. He had forgone the bandages for the night, as his teammates would be long before they come back to their dorm and had applied some scarring salve to his neck.

He felt at ease, with his neck scars uncovered and airing out. They itched like they normally did after so long under bandages, but he avoided touching his itchy neck while he was cooking.

He threw in a handful of chocolate chips to the mixture as he fell back to his thoughts.

Nora and Yang would for sure bring the funniest anecdotes of the night, seconded only with Jaune’s string of guys and girls that would surely go after his “earnest and boyish allure”, as one of the Mantle moms had put it. Oscar chuckled at the thought of Jaune not understanding how he got a fanclub in the first place as he measured the cup of flour.

Slowly, so as to not overwhelm the cookie dough with the Atlesian flour (he preferred the one that his neighbors manufactured at their mill), he spooned a bit of the flour as he felt relaxing again. He imagined that each spoonful was one individual problem or obstacle of his day, and as he released it into the bowl, he felt letting go of his daily troubles. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils like Maria had taught him and was about to release slowly through his mouth.

Except.

“Whatcha doing, Oscar?”, an inquisitive voice startled him into a surprised gasp as a cloud of flour filled his field of vision. Both teens spluttered and coughed as flour got into their airways.

“M-milk!” groaned Oscar, his eyes stinging as his throat constricted painfully. Through the massive hacking, Ruby found the milk and uncapped it fast, and delivered it with a slap to Oscar’s chest.

Oscar took one gulp of milk and slammed the carton on the counter, his coughing fit reduced but not contained. Ruby took the carton then and had a swig herself before slamming it back on the counter, Oscar taking it then, and so on and so forth.

After the milk had been drank, the two teens slumped on the counter as evil (in the form of non glutinous Atlesian flour) had tried to take them to an early grave.

Winded out and cheeks planted on the cold countertop, they looked at each other and gave a giggly sigh.

“So…what were you doing before almost dying at age fourteen?”, Ruby asked as she booped him on the cheek.

He blushed lightly and sat back up as he slid the bowl of cookie dough to Ruby.

“Chocolate chip cookies.” He answered simply as he watched the black-haired girl taste a spoonful of dough. She wiggled in her seat.

“Man, this is good!” She said enthusiastically before a deadpan Oscar plopped a whole cup of flour into the bowl Ruby was digging her spoon back in. She pouted as he resumed his whisking around.

Oscar worked in silence, as Ruby watched his every move. He made baking look like a meditative process and looked so in the zone that she dared not to speak.

It was only as he planted the last of the dough using an ice cream scoop that he spoke up again.

“And I’m fifteen, by the way.”

The way that Ruby screeched her surprise made him stumble a bit, as he looked bewildered at her.

__________________________________________

Ruby paced back and forth in front of Oscar as he held a jar of freshly baked cookies in his lap. This particular rec room they were in had been loaned specifically for their group, seeing as General Ironwood in true Atlesian fashion, liked to play favourites and offered a ‘special housing arrangement for such a special group’.

The girl finished the last bite of her cookie, and as she gulped down, she turned to look at Oscar.

“March. The. Twentieth.” He shrank slightly as he passed another cookie to the fuming teen in front of him.

“Yep.”

“We are in APRIL! THE! TWENTIETH!”

“Mhm.”

“A whole month passed!” He just looked at her as she inhaled the cookie in her hand. She turned back to him and shook his shoulders slightly, “Why didn’t you tell us!?”, he just shrugged.

“I lost track of time; I swear! We were all just so busy training, and going to missions, and stuff…”

“But you didn’t go to any missions you just trained with the General!”

Oscar just rubbed his arm, looking at a cookie as he seemingly inspected it for imperfections. He sat silently as he willed his face to not heat up under such strong scrutiny.

Ruby bit her lip as she realized that he had not gone to any missions, but she and the rest did.

“Ah.” She said, suddenly feeling quite lame as she wrapped herself tighter in her blanket. Ruby watched as Oscar nibbled on a cookie, collecting his thoughts. She sat down on the couch with him shoulder to shoulder, her bravado gone.

They sat in silence munching on cookies for a bit, before Ruby jumped up and dashed away in a flurry of red petals, leaving Oscar mulling the past minutes over and over again.

Sitting there alone he thought about how silly it became to him that he halfheartedly hoped for Ruby to come back. Just as he was dusting himself off, Ruby reappeared in front of him carrying bulks of blankets under both arms.

“Meet me in my dorm in like ten, kay?” she said hurriedly as she tucked the sofa cushion under her chin and bolted back to her dorm.

Oscar felt a flurry of nervousness, and giddiness at the pit of his stomach, which he tried to stomp with yet another cookie.

Deciding to get the rest of the cookies, he walked back to the kitchen and prepared a basket with whatever he could find.

__________________________________________

“Woah.” Oscar had been caught unaware and surprised many times over since he joined the ragtag group of hunstmen rookies, he had seen horrors beyond his imagination, and his fate revealed cruelly in front of his very eyes. He had also seen bouts of astounding magic and impossible things. He had done impossible things.

But he had never been surprised silly by the simplest of things. Like this. Oscar felt a special type of warmth in his heart as he watched as Ruby applied the last touches to the most spectacular pillow fort he had seen in his life.

Somehow, she had found fairy lights and attached them to a canopy of blankets over the nest of pillows and sofa cushions that lay arranged in a very cozy manner on the floor. It looked comfy as hell and knowing Atlas’ penchant for luxurious materials for the tiniest of things, he had no doubt that the pillows were heavenly soft and plush.

He swept his gaze to Ruby as she set her scroll on top of some books, the camera facing a wall and in projector mode as it displayed a frozen still from a movie (or something). He sniffled a bit, touched by the barest of details, and his eyes pricked ever so lightly.

Hearing the quiet sniffle, Ruby whirled around and caught him misty eyed. In a panic, she rushed to him and squished his cheeks as she shushed him.

“Not! No crying today, Oscar. We´re gonna watch comedies and gorge ourselves in food till we enter a food coma.” Oscar nodded, his cheeks and ears heating up as Ruby continued to press her palms to his face.

Oscar had felt the rush of blood to his veins before, but it was always under perilious circumstances. Never before had a friend (definitely not a crush!) done something so touching and…homey. Like this.

“Mm mwot gwon cwa, boh plis rewt me gwo.” Ruby blinked at the unintelligible string of sounds that left Oscar’s pinched lips. Realizing she had squeezed his cheeks for too long, she let go immediately.

“Oh! He-hee. Oops, my bad.” She stammered, suddenly embarrassed.

“It’s ok. I got some of the fancy stuff that Winter keeps sending Weiss but that she doesn’t actually like.” He said, lifting the basket up for Ruby to inspect.

After accepting his offer of cold meat cuts and fancy-difficult- to-pronounce cheeses, Oscar and Ruby settled on the nest of soft blankets and plush pillows on the floor.

“Kay,” Ruby began as she went over tonight’s movie selection, “I got The Yuletide, about a girl living in a cottage in Mistral and another lady in a mansion in Atlas who swap homes for the holiday. I also got Huntsman Trap, about two estranged huntress trainees who get into the same Academy, discover they are twins and set up their big-name Huntsmen parents who got divorced. Or! The Pink Manticore, a crazy detective from Vacuo joins forces with experts to find the fabled Pink Manticore, a huge pink diamond that is rumoured to be possessed.”

Oscar scratched his chin deep in thought as he hugged a pillow to his chest.

“Mhm… How about the twin movie?”

Ruby grinned. She had already selected the movie.

_________________________________________

After watching two of Ruby’s movie selections and eating sweet and savory foods until they could no longer accept one more crumb, both teens plopped down the pillows and burrowed in the fluffy blankets contentedly.

Ruby had turned off the fairy lights, and her scroll was projecting on their canopy of blankets overhead the pinpricks of the night sky.

Oscar was looking at the soft flecks of lights, flickering like they would under the winter night. His hands rested lazily on his full stomach, his left hand every so often pointing at the makeshift heavens.

“What’s that… smoky section of the sky?” Ruby asked, her right hand pointing at the general direction of the splattering of spots above.

Oscar narrowed his eyes a bit, pulling a memory not his own, but soon to become, out of the recesses of his soul.

“That’s the Seafoam River, we can’t really see it because of pollution, but many years ago it was brighter than the Moon.” He explained.

Ruby ‘aah-ed’ and looked at the stripe of stars and nebulae. She turned her body slightly to look at him, her palm under her chin.

“I have a question.” She said simply, her stare was hot platinum, intense and burning into his very soul.

Oscar turned his body to mirror hers and noticed her steadfast gaze. Feeling blood rush to his neck, he realized with a jolt that his scars were visible and had been for the entirety of the night. His hand flew fast to the side of his neck, shielding as much as he could the reminder of his childhood trauma.

“I… This is from the day my parents died.” He confessed. Ruby made a sound at the back of her throat, confused. “Can’t remember well, but a Grimm-“

“That wasn’t it!” Ruby interrupted as she grabbed his hand in hers, shaking Oscar out of his memories. “Just wanted to ask what type of farm you had, that’s all!” Oscar let a soft ‘oh?’, surprised. “But if you feel ready to tell me about it, I am here.”

Oscar shook his head.

“Sorry! I just thought… I didn’t want to scare you off with this.” He pointed at the cris-crossed scarred pattern in his neck.

Ruby giggled softly as she squeezed his hand.

“Oscar, my sister lost her arm and Weiss and Blake all have scars. We all do. We just gotta… accept them for the gift of a second chance that they are.”

Slowly, Oscar laid back down on his back. His long mile stare bore holes on the piece of fabric over their heads as he just laid there pensive.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to… I can put on another movie from our selection, its fine!” Ruby sat up quickly to select the Pink Manticore, the funny Vacuoan noir comedy, when she felt Oscar tug at their still joined hands. She squeezed his hand softly.

“Actually, I always dreamed about getting sheep so I could collect their wool and make dyed yarn and maybe sell it down by the town square.”

Smiling softly, Ruby settled back down and tuned to Oscar as he explained the process of shearing and dying wool.

Over time, the conversation petered out in between yawns and strenuous effort to keep awake. The last thing Ruby saw was Oscar’s eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he finally fell asleep, his face relaxed and content.

Looking at their held hands between their bodies, she felt happier than she had been in a very long time. She had finally gotten to learn more about her friend, and feeling particularly close and placid, she let sleep wash over her.

_________________________________________

“Aw man, look at this!” Whisper-yelled Yang from the doorway to their dorm before she got loudly shushed by a barely sober Weiss.

The white-haired huntress was standing impossibly slanted, forty-five degrees to her right as she tried (in vain) to regain her composure, while Yang looked on the scene before her from the door.

“They. Are. Sleeping!” Weiss complained to her blonde teammate, who shushed her back sarcastically.

Irritated, Weiss began shushing Yang as she mimicked the white-haired girl back, initiating an argument expressed in overly dramatic shushing.

Blake and Ren shared a long-time suffering look, peeking out close enough to the door but not too much, avoiding Nora who fell asleep in the middle of the hallway, standing straight up, holding on to a stop-sign she had nicked from Mantle.

Jaune looked at Ruby and Oscar, both looking impossibly cozy as they cuddled in their pillow nest. They hugged lightly in their sleep, snoring softly and unaware of their friends looking at their snuggle.

“Look at them!” Jaune exclaimed softly, blue eyes soft and fond as he regarded his younger teammates. “They are headbutting their foreheads together!”

Blake poked her head into the room to see better and hummed.

“I get what they are trying to say. Headbutting is a whole declaration.” She said sagely, her ears twitching over her head. Blinking, she turned to the hallway as she heard someone approaching. She cocked her head when she saw who it was.

“Hey, Penny.”

“Salutations my friends!” The red-haired android girl exclaimed happily.

Weiss stopped her shushing match with Yang and slowly turned to Penny.

“Penny! Hush! Look at them they are sleeping!” she slurred.

Penny engaged her lock-on optics to scan Weiss quickly.

“Oh! It seems that you have been inebriated!”

Weiss spluttered indignantly.

Deciding to leave the dorm for the time being, Jaune pushed his way out of the dorm and closed the door.

“Hey guys, maybe we should simmer down a little bit.” Jaune said, pointing at the closed door as he tried to her the group further down the corridor.

Yang chuckled.

“Yeah! Looks like Ruby and Oscar need to catch up on their sleep to grow big and strong.” A chorus of giggles echoed as the group tried to stifle their laughter while Penny looked on confused.

“Sleep? But if I came here to wait exactly forty-five minutes until your usual waking time?”

Weiss snapped out of it suddenly.

“Are you telling me its already five a.m.?!”

__________________________________________

Later that day Marrow noticed that the kids from Beacon all seemed lethargic and whiny, compared to their usual selves. Their reaction times were off and seemed confused. Frankly, it was like herding cats that day.

Marrow decided to take Ruby and Oscar, who were spry and looking fresh, on a stake out with him by the Solitas’ mines instead. During the entire mission, Oscar and Ruby seemed to have a new spring on their steps, and in Marrow’s opinion, he had once again stuck babysitting more lovesick fools.

———-

Hope you enjoyed this tiny drabble! Cross posted on AO3, you can find me as ClaraLaClarividente 😗

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 1/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall Summary: The year is 1886, William Mulder owns a horse ranch in northern Texas.  The widow of a neighboring landowner has something he wants. Notes: Please be aware that this fic will contain ‘off-camera’ references to violence and abuse of various kinds. I will not be tagging individual TWs on the chapters.

Prologue

Many years from now, when he tells the tales of his younger days, he will claim that this is the day that changed his life forever.  If that horse hadn’t thrown a shoe, well then.  His wife will roll her eyes at this, tell him that any number of events prior to that day had already changed his life forever.  The decision to leave Massachusetts for the open prairie, for example, had changed his life forever.  The fact that his father had sent him to live with his aunt in the countryside instead of keeping him in the city had changed his life forever.  The pony he received for his birthday when he was a child had clearly changed his life forever.

All of that will hindsight one day.  Right now, it’s just an ordinary Thursday, the 9th of September, 1886.  The weather is mild, almost cool compared to the heat wave that had hit in the latter half of August.  And William Mulder’s horse has thrown a shoe.

Chapter 1

Normally, Mulder (only his family ever called him William) sends his ranch hand, Melvin, to take care of small errands and menial tasks, but he hasn’t been to town in almost a month and he could use a change of pace.  He hitches one of his more reliable horses to his wagon and takes one of the ones in training as well, one he’s just broken in, to see how he handles on the hour-long ride.  Their first stop is Gray’s Blacksmith.

After tying the horses to the post, Mulder gives them both a good scratching about the neck for a job well done and receives a snort and whinny of appreciation.  “Well done, boys,” he says.  “Carrots and apples at home for both of you if you keep up the good work.”

The familiar sound of clanking and hammering and the crackle of fire greets Mulder as he steps into the open door of the blacksmith’s.  He tips his hat to the striker, who nods a greeting.  The blacksmith turns and nods as well.

“Mr. Gray,” Mulder says.

“Mr. Mulder,” the blacksmith answers, passing his tongs to his assistant and then removing his gloves to shake hands.  “What can I do for ya?”

“Faithful Jenny’s thrown a shoe.  Melvin’s fixing her up, but I figured it was a good time to pick up a crate of nails and shoes.”

“Come on back and take a look then.  How’s business?”

“Doing well.  We’re training up a half dozen draft horses for the postal service right now.”

“Is the rumor you pulled in a mustang a few weeks ago true?”

“Afraid so.”

“You ain’t got a broken neck far as I can tell, so you must be faring alright with him then.”

“You can see him for yourself when I take this cart out to the wagon.”

“You brung him with ya?”

“I did.”

“I’ll be.”

Mulder feels a surge of pride when the blacksmith comes out to admire the horse.  He slides the crate of shoes and nails into the back of the wagon and then shows off his friendship with the four-legged beast by rubbing his belly.  The horse scratches the ground with his front hoof and shakes his head.

“You sure got a way, Mr. Mulder,” Mr. Gray says.  “If you got any stock you’re looking to sell I heard there’s a new homesteader a ways south that was interested.”

“I’m on my way to the mercantile.  I’ll be sure to ask John.”

The two men shake hands once again before Mulder gets back in his wagon.  He smiles to himself when the blacksmith watches him leave.  He’s made a name for himself in the short while he’s been here breaking and training up horses.  Folks in the area have said time and again that there isn’t a horse he can’t tame, that it’s almost downright spooky the way he seems to be able to talk to them.

There’s a man being waited on in the mercantile that Mulder doesn’t recognize, probably someone just passing through.  He waits for John Byers to finish with the customer, browsing the Montgomery Ward & Co. catalog at the end of the counter.

“Mulder,” John says after ringing the man up at the till.  “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, John.”  He pulls a shopping list from his pocket and unfolds it.  “I’m sure you’re better at translating Melvin’s chicken scratches than me at this point.”

“I believe I can manage.”  John chuckles and takes the shopping list.  He pulls a crate down and begins to collect items off the shelves and William goes back to the catalogue, thumbing past the illustrations of ladies’ garments to find menswear.

“If I put in an order for denim trousers for me and the boys you think they’ll be in by winter?”

“I’d say it’s likely.”

“Mr. Gray mentioned there were some new homesteaders interested in horses.”

“He must mean Mr. Campbell.  It’s oxen he’s after, I believe.”

“If you hear otherwise, send him my way.”

“I’ll do that.  I suppose you heard about your neighbor?”

“What neighbor is that?”

“Jack Willis.”

“Haven’t heard a thing.  What about him?”

“He spent all of Saturday night at the saloon in a poker game and was found dead in a ditch just outside of town on Sunday morning.”

“Robbed?”

“I should actually say he spent all Saturday night losing in a poker game and downing whiskey like water.  I heard he stumbled his way into that ditch of his own accord and met an untimely demise.”

“I only met him the once, but that doesn’t surprise me much.  Far be it for me to speak ill of the dead, but the man had a disagreeable disposition.  He seemed like the type to get himself into trouble.”

“Well, the bank is soon to be after his widow.  I’ve heard he’s in arrears.  I’m actually surprised the Sheriff didn’t stop on at your place on his way out there to tell her about her husband’s death.”

“Didn’t know he had a widow.  And you know Sheriff Doggett, he’s all business.”

“My Susannah saw them together, he and his wife, the day they passed through looking for land, and you know Susannah, she was beside herself at the notion of another woman come to town, but then no one’s seen hide nor hair of her since.”

“I still regret having been back east when Old Man Goodwin passed.  I’ve had my eye on that land for quite some time.”

“Maybe she’ll sell it to you.”

Mulder rubs at his chin in thought.  “You say the bank is about to repossess?”

“That’s the rumor.  I don’t think Mr. Skinner would relish evicting a new widow, but there probably isn’t much he can do if the mortgage is late.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to take a ride out to pay my respects and assess the situation.  Thank you, John.”

Byers nods and gestures to the items laid out on the counter.  “I’ll have John Jr. load the cart for you.  Would you like this on your account?”

“I’ll square up everything now, but go ahead and order those trousers.”

The hour ride back home gives Mulder time to think.  He’s in a position to offer the Willis widow a handsome sum for his neighboring acres.  The one and only time he’d met Jack Willis he was immediately soured on trying to form any kind of friendship with him.  The man had been downright surly and abrasive and he sure hopes the widow is more neighborly.

Melvin takes over the wagon when Mulder arrives home and shows him the new shoe on Faithful Jenny.  The older man is at least a foot closer to the ground than Mulder and proudly displays a life-long love of hearty biscuits around his middle, but there’s no better right-hand man that Mulder could ask for.  He’s foreman and farrier, counselor and cook.  There isn’t anything Mulder doesn’t trust him with.  As they unload the wagon together, he tells him about what he heard from John Byers.

“Well, there’s no harm in asking,” Melvin offers as advice.  “If’n the bank really is after her, she might be grateful for the offer.  You should probably get out there as soon as possible in case anyone else might be sniffin’ around for them acres.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“You know if’n I’d heard about Bob Goodwin any sooner I’d have snatched up them acres for you before I could even send a wire.”

“I know, it’s not your fault.  Do me a favor, old man, tack up Blondie while I try to make myself presentable.”

“That could take hours.  Days even.”

“Decades, in your case.  If it’s even possible.”

The two men laugh over their gentle ribbing of each other and Mulder claps Melvin on the shoulder.  He parts from his friend to go wash his face, comb his hair, and put on a fresh shirt.  His horse is saddled and ready to go when he comes back out.

“Good luck,” Melvin tells him.

A narrow, slow-moving creek divides Mulder’s property from the Willis widow’s land.  It’s one he’s crossed many times when Old Man Goodwin was his neighbor.  He knows where the shallowest spot is to lead the horse and where the shrubs are too thick and have to be avoided.  He tries not to daydream about what he’ll do with an expansion, but he passes the spot he’d like to clear out for a better corral and where he’d like to add another stable and it’s hard not to hope.

The old sod house that Old Man Goodwin had slapped together is still standing, though it looks to have seen better days.  The roof needs patching and the walls are crumbling in spots.  He dismounts Blondie when he’s still a few yards away and leads the horse over to the post he knows is at the side of the house.  The nearby trough which is usually full of water is empty.  The chickens that were usually clucking and underfoot are nowhere to be seen.

Mulder knocks lightly on the clapboard door and moments later a woman with the reddest hair and the bluest eyes he’s ever seen answers.

↭

Katherine is expecting the knock when it comes, though it’s sooner than she thought it would be.  In the days since her husband’s death, she’s racked her brain for a solution to her current predicament, but has come up empty handed.  She doesn’t delay in answering the door.  She may be on the verge of being destitute and homeless, but she’ll face it with dignity.

“Uh, Mrs. Willis, I presume?” the man asks.  He stammers a bit but he has an easy, congenial smile that catches her a little off guard.  She’d been expecting the Sheriff she’d met on Sunday, but perhaps the bank manager in this town takes care of evictions.  

“Mr. Skinner, I presume?” she finally replies.

The man chuckles and removes his hat.  “Ah, no Ma’am,” he says, running his hand through his hair.  “I’m afraid I have a bit more hair than our dear Mr. bank manager.”

“Oh.”  She should have known.  The bank managers she’s had dealings with in the past were stuffy and pinched.  This man is far too rugged and handsome to be a bank manager.

“William Mulder.”  He holds out his hand to her and when she gives him hers, he bows slightly and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips lightly across her knuckles.  Embarrassed, she pulls her hand back and closes it into a fist to hide her dirty and calloused palms from him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asks.

“I know we haven’t met before, but I happen to be your neighbor just to the south.  I heard about your husband and I’ve come to pay my respects.”

“I see.  Would you...care to come in, then?”

“Thank you.”

He has to bend to step through the low-frame of the door.  She has no candles, but there’s enough light from the open door and the unpatched holes in the walls that it’s unnecessary.  She watches him look the place over and she can tell he’s not impressed by the shabbiness of it all.  

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you,” she says.

He smiles politely.  “That’s alright, Ma’am.  I came to be neighborly, but there is also a matter I wanted to discuss regarding this land.”

“Oh?”  Fear grips her suddenly.  He may not be the bank man, and he may not be the sheriff, but he could be another kind of lawman.  Even if he was telling the truth that he was her neighbor, he could still be there to turn her out, or worse yet, remove her to debtor’s prison.  Unconsciously, she begins to tremble.

“Mrs. Willis?” he asks.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she answers, pulling the tattered shawl draped over her shoulders a little tighter across her chest.  “A chill is all.”

He looks around again.  “You’ve no chair to sit on?”

“No.”

“Would you like to come back outside?  Perhaps it will be warmer.  You could sit on my horse.”

The absurdity of the offer makes her laugh and eases her anxiety somewhat.  He bites his lower lip almost shyly and tips his chin down as he turns the hat over in his hands again.  She stares at his mouth, thinking about how the slight overbite he has seems to suit him well.  She notes other things too, in the silence.  Like how his beard is well-trimmed and his nails are clean.  He presents himself as a cowboy, but she knows a city man when she sees one.

“Um, Mrs. Willis, I…”

She flinches at the name.  “Katherine,” she says.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’d prefer you call me Katherine.”

He cocks his head a little to the side and smiles.  “Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,” he murmurs.

She can’t help but lift her right eyebrow.  It used to irritate her husband immensely when she pulled faces, as he called it.  “Rather Kate the Curst,” she replies.

His eyes widen and seem to brighten.  “You know Shakespeare?”  

“You look surprised.”

“No, no, it’s just...I haven’t had much opportunity to discuss the Bard out here.  Apologies for the Taming of the Shrew reference, but whenever I come across a Katherine, I can’t help but make the association.  Especially when it’s not altogether untrue.”

She feels the heat rise to her cheeks with the compliment that she knows is entirely unwarranted.  She was never very pretty.  Her mother used to complain about how wild and curly her hair was when she was a child, not to mention the dreadful freckles across her nose and cheeks.  It may have been quite some time since she’s been in the presence of a looking glass, but she doesn’t need one to know that her appearance is lacking.    

“I suppose I could have just as easily been a Viola or an Ophelia,” she says, avoiding his flattery.

“Hopefully not a Lady MacBeth.”

“No.”  The conversation stalls momentarily, but then she wets her lips and tightens her shawl again.  “You said there was something you came to speak with me about?”

“I was away on some business when Old Man...ah, that is, when Mr. Goodwin, the previous owner of your land, passed on.  I’d been eyeing this parcel for some time and had been planning to offer Mr. Goodwin a sum to sell it to me.  I’d like to make you that same offer.”

“Ah.”  She closes her eyes and chuckles mirthlessly for a brief moment.  “I’m afraid I can’t take that offer.”

“Have you sold to someone else?”

“No, but I’m not in a position to sell.  My husband leased this land and I have every reason to doubt he ever made good on the rent.  He drank most of the money and gambled what was left of that.”

“I see.”  

“I’m just biding my time now until the bank comes to collect and turn me out.”

“Do you have people back...wherever it is that you're from?”

“Virginia.”

“It’s not but a few days ride to Fort Worth, I could send a wire to someone for you.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course.”

“No.”  She shakes her head slowly and sighs.  “There’s no one back home, but thank you.”

He shifts his feet and tries to speak, but he says nothing.  He looks dumbfounded in a way that almost makes her feel sorry for him.

“Was that all?” she asks.

“Ma’am,” he stammers.  “Mrs. Willis...Katherine...I can’t...I can’t…”

She doesn’t know what compels her to do it, but she reaches out and puts her hand over his where it grips the brim of his hat.  He falls silent and stops his fidgeting.  She squeezes his hand lightly and lets her fingers rest against his wrist for a few moments before she takes it away.

“Since you seem familiar with the bank man,” she says.  “I’m sure you’ll get your wish soon enough.”

“But…”

“Good day to you, Mr. Mulder.  Thank you for coming.”

[badboyfriends]

Bets Against The Void c5

@petrichormeraki bet you forgot I even had this fic ! Thank you again for the gift that is Whitelist AU, which feels like a lifetime ago (For Tommy it was !)

Chapter 1 Here

Last Chapter Here

Next Chapter Here

and AO3 Crossposted!

Ask to tag and give me a headsup on any typos ! c!Tubbo in my interpretation is they/them and blind.

The Hobbit Hole was more than Tommy expected. Birch-and-spruce windows poked out throughout the hillside, a round entrance carefully carved from the wood. Poking his head inside, the blond’s eyes darted across the spruce-built interior skeptically.

“..Thanks.” Tommy halfhartedly grumble, pulling his hand off the entrance. He warily stepped in, his hand resting on the doorway entrance for a moment as he investigated for potential traps.

“You’re..Sure we can just- stay here?” Tubbo asked once more, their head turned back towards the dirty blond stood aside the messy front garden.

“Of course, I swear, I don’t need another place to hoard stuff! Chances are, I’ll only be out here if I finally get around to moving my villagers out of their old setup.”  The older brit confirmed once more, his tone light. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Promise.”

Hesitantly nodding, Tubbo offered an appreciative smile his way before they turned back towards Tommy. “How’s it looking, then, Big Man?” They hummed, tilting their head.

“Fuckin’ cool as shit-” He glanced around, apprehensively surveying the ground for any traps.

“It needs a bit of cleanin’ up,” Stress chirped, sending a lighthearted glare towards Grian as he stuck out his tongue with a snicker. “We’d all be happy to help.” She finished, with a warm smile.

Tubbo politely nodded. “I think we’ll handle it. Thank you, again.” They ran their hand over the wooden arc in the entrance.

Grian shook his head. “Really, don’t worry about it. Stay here. Get settled. Either of us may be over to check up. Across the lake’s my neighbor, Scar, who you might see. But he shouldn’t come around here.” 

With a bit of exasperation, ready to be left alone, Tommy wordlessly nodded as he bounced his leg. 

Clearing his throat, Grian nodded. “Alright, then we’ll be out. We’ll see you two soon. Cya, Stress, thanks for the help!” He dipped his head towards the short brunette, who grinned bubbly back.

“See ya! Bye, loves.” Stress cooed, before deploying her glowing skeletal wings and ascending off with a quick poof of smoke.

Instinctively when the item had come to her hand, Tommy had thrown his arms around Tubbo’s ears- an action that didn’t go unnoticed by the sandy brunett man.

Grian simply put his hands up pacifying, as Tubbo was shrunk back curled, shielded away from where the brief poof was. “They’re duds, almost all fireworks here are duds.” He had calmly spoke, his tone soft. “I’ll come back to check up on you guys soon, ‘n make sure you have the supplies you need. You have free reign of that base!” Were his parting words, before he trotted off into the woodland.

Tommy uncurled himself from Tubbo. “You good, Bigman?” The blond tilted his head.

“Yeah,” Tubbo chuckled halfheartedly. “It doesn’t really.. Scare me it just- it startles me? Hearing it? ‘Cause I don’t really have time to prepare myself for the noise..Even if it’s not the same as- the kind from. Then.” Their voice wavered for a moment, before they took a shuttering breath. “Yeah, I’m fine, Man.”

“..Mhm..Alright.  Well, this set-up is better than just ‘bout half the shit on’ the SMP.” Tommy diverted the subject, sweeping his foot over the top of the floor, watching the small streak it left beneath a thin coat of dust.

Tubbo tilted their head. “Really? It smells..Very dusty-” They sneezed into their arm, sniffling. “I.. feel like it might need a bit of work, yeah?”

The blond boy shrugged. “Yeah.. We can see ‘bout gettin’ a towel wet or something and wiping all ths shit down?”

Humming in agreement, Tubbo felt around, listening to the words their Comm robotically had been reading off.

“I’ll see ‘bout findin’ shit. They’ve gotta have wool in some of these chests,”

With a bit of digging,  the two teens had gotten to work. Not everywhere in the practically abandoned place was dusty or dirty. A small lush crevice was fresh and clean- or, relatively so. Bright feathers had littered the area around it. A path from a window seal, which had been opened, and to said crevice was nearly spotless of debris outside of such molting feathers or a few leaves.

Now without dust on the outside, the two messed with the chests, rummaging through what could be found.

..Which was a lot. Just not in the places they had expected.

Out of the chests they had searched through, they managed to find almost a doublechest full of various stacked enchanted books-

“How..How did he just leave all of this here?” “Well, he has enough he defenitely won’t notice a few gone!”

A totem of undying in a michalanious chest-

“Woah.. WHAT THE SHIT..” “Dude… This is.. A gamechanger”

A golden apple held by an item frame-

“Finders keepers! This counts, its on a chest.” “Sick!”

Bafflingly, a diamond in the food chest-

“What the actual shit. WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT-” “What? W- WHAT? WHY?”

Two enchanted, nearly broken bows with enchants- “Better than nothing, I’ll see about combinin’ them unless you feel like pinnin’ the tail on the donkey.” “..Sounds like a good plan, yah.”

And in the middle of the room, a chest with an enchanted diamond axe-

“..Fuck. Wow- There’s just a wholeass enchanted axe! What the fuck is the point of the itemframes if theres no system here?”

“Whats it enchanted with..?” “..Fortune? What a waste. Uhh, some efficiency, too.”

There wasnt much in the main storage room, but they werent quite willing to push their luck and explore too far. At least not until they got some food and set up some sort of gameplan.

The two teens distributed some of the loot they scavanged, damaged iron armor going to Tommy, a shovel to Tubbo and a spare shovel to Tommy, The totem of undying to Tubbo, and the two diamonds they scavenged turned into a diamond sword for Tubbo as well, with the axe and golden apple going to Tommy.

They turned their focus to food. The two sat beneath the support pillars against the walls, taking the time to eat  a handful of watermelon slices.

The wall of chests ahead of them had been broken, exposing the opened window with feathers trailing from it. It was an oddly live scene in the otherwise abandoned wooden hole.

Neither of them quite enjoyed the feeling of being holed in, or the small nature of the wall-home. Nor did either teen mention it.

Tommy explained the varying entrance ways from the mainroom. They had decided on splitting up soon, letting Tubbo find a place to dig out a room for the two of them, with Tommy going off and rummaging through more chests.

Tubbo found a dead-end room beneath a spruce-log room on the second story, and had begun trying to carve it out, as the other teen worked through more and more chests.

The blond eventually worked his way outside and into yard infront of the entrance, rummaging his way through the bits and pieces- the best so far, being another golden apple which he happily held onto.

Half way through his second chest, something caught his attention- or, more like, he caught something’s attention.

A blue, yellow-cheeked bird had fluttered around him, its head quirked curiously as it stared him down. Tommy shrinked.

“What the fuck do you want?” He squinted at the parrot as it lowered itself down onto the top of the open chest, hopping along the edge.

“F⚍ᓵꖌ!” The bird cooed in responded incoherently, chirping at him.

Tommy paused, eyes lighting up in realization. “Oi! You’re the one that flies into the house, huh?” 

In response, it turned it’s head away, nodding. “Hobbit!” It shrilled.

As Tommy had opened his mouth to respond, the hobbit himself, Grian, had flown down, sweeping down with a soft thud.

“Sorry! Uh, Professor Beak has a little spot in there. He likes to go n stay there most days, its a lot cozier than the mansion,” The older Brit chuckled apologetically, putting out his hand for the parrot. 

The blond boy snorted. “‘Professor Beak?’” He’d raise a brow.

The named bird chirped, stepping onto Grian’s wrist without hesitation. “Professor Ellen Taurtis Beak!” It cooed, its voice mimicking that of Grian himself.

It was… A strange display, to be sure.

Sheepishly, Grian hummed, running his spare hand through the bird’s feathers. “They may try ‘n break back in, they’re a pesky bird like that. I’m sorry for bothering you, though. You two doing good?”

“..Hm,,Yeah, thanks. Are you..Like, fuckin’ aware of all the stuff you’re leavin’?” Tommy eyed the strange man, folding his arms.

Grian merely gave a shrug. “Not really? But that just means they’re nothing important. If they help you both get started, they’re yours.”

Huh. Well, that was easy enough.

“..Right. Cool. Bye.” Tommy watched the man, as he easily nodded, striding off with his bird held by his chest.

The blond let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“..This place is fucking weird.”

[schnitzelbutterfingers]

To Someone Special (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

notes: happy holidays! please take the time to celebrate with your family and friends. 2020 was an egregious year, but let’s thank god for letting us survive through the whole COVID pandemic. let’s pray for everyone to get through this. 

anyways, here is my christmas present to you all, wrapped with some angst and fluff! ethan’s ex-girlfriend from his med school days who cheated on him with another ‘friend’ (and no, it’s not tobias :)) makes an appearance hehe. forgive me if there are any spelling mistakes and grammar errors, and as always enjoy! (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

(i felt like this was similar to @jamespotterthefirst ‘s fic ‘Fake Husband/Wife’, so i asked permission to write this, and she gave me it. shoutout to bree!)

summary: On Christmas, 10 years ago, he gave his heart to a girl. The very next day, she gave it away. This Christmas, to save him from tears, Ethan will give it to someone special.

pairing(s): dr. ethan ramsey x f!mc (dr. abigail ‘abby’ chacko) || mentions of past dr. ethan ramsey x dr. aubrie zavala

warning(s): angst (mentions of cheating) and fluff (mentions of proposal)

word count: 1999

** i suggest you listen to ‘last christmas’ by wham! :) **

_______________________________________________________________

‘The most wonderful time of the year.’

If it were years ago, Ethan would chuckle at the preposterousness of this statement. 

To everyone else, the Christmas season is full of jubilation, nostalgia and generosity. Giving and donating had become a peculiarity of the days neighboring the observed holiday, street-corners crowded with Santas ringing golden bells. 

Houses twinkled with multi-colored and pulsing lights, bouncing off the crystalline white snow. Inside the houses, trees glimmered with more colorful lights and various decorative ornaments. Christmas colors added sumptuousness. Classic poinsettias are tied, and candy canes add some idiosyncrasy, dangling from the mouths of exhilarated children. Joyful music and golden bells can be heard from everyone’s car.

To the senior doctor, it’s dissimilar. Christmas means more work to do at the hospital. Emergency rooms are filled with injured patients who were looking forward to blithesome moments with their friends and family. The roads are slick with shiny ice, vehicles slipping across the road to hit the one next to it or a broad tree. And the mistletoe. On one occasion, he had to escape an elderly grandmother with wrinkly skin and gray hair, who was convinced that he was Bob Dylan. Yet he wasn’t even an accurate replica and they didn’t sound the same.

Seeing other interns and derisory people kiss under the mistletoe makes him turn away with disgust. He cordially hated PDA. Well, that is, until he met her.

When Ethan met Abigail, however, he felt some sort of attraction to her, something he couldn’t escape from, no matter how hard he tried. Her compassion, her wit, her charm, her intelligence, her everything. 

It felt like some sort of grip she had, her usual chocolate aroma, big brown eyes, wavy hair, and her milky skin all holding on to him like a police officer would do to a criminal. And it’s addicting.

But now, looking at his Rookie from across their luxurious bedroom, getting ready for the Christmas Gala hosted by Bloom Edenbrook Hospital, he started to look forward to the breathless moments under the mistletoe. On second thought, why does he need to kiss Abby under the mistletoe when he can kiss her anywhere? They are officially dating, after all.

He wanted to satisfy her and hear her singing goofily along with the carols in their cars. He wanted to see her tastefully decorate their penthouse with stockings, ornaments, a garland. He wanted to see her making sticky toffee pudding and her longtime favorite gulab jamuns, even if he claims he doesn’t like sugar. She, in return, would constantly mock him, prompting him of the day when he focused his eyes on the delicious chocolate bar in the vending machine at the hospital. He wanted it all with her.

Abby was adorning a long sleeve crimson velvet dress, strikingly showing some cleavage. She wore a generous split from her right thigh down, parading her creamy legs. She looked divine. She looked like heaven. The red gown made her look scandalous. 

She cleared her throat, smirking at him staring at her. “Are you finished?”

“You look...” The more conventional doctor was at a loss of words, looking at her up and down. He started from her soiled velvet heels, moving up to her wavy cafe hair.

“...sinful.”

Abby flashed him a sly grin. “Why, thank you, Doctor. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Indeed he doesn’t. Ethan sported a matching outfit, a suit with a red velvet coat black shirt and a crimson bowtie.

“I can’t wait to come back after this gala. You’re making me lose my patience.”

She chortled, lovely music to his ears. “Then what are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

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

The gala invited all the hospitals in Boston, including Mass Kenmore. It was being held at The Seaport World Trade Center, one of the largest venues in the city. Ethan and Abby arrived at the front of the venue, walking towards the entrance. Inside, a waiter took them to the very front table, the one where their seats were reserved.

They were recognized as the ‘rich couple’ and the ‘power couple’ of Edenbrook. It was no surprise that some of the doctors decided to gossip about them, stating how they match and look excellent together. Some women were jealous, and Abby could feel covetous eyes burning behind her back. The male doctors were also envious of Ethan, that he got to be with the young graceful doctor. In return, Ethan winded his protecting arm tighter around her slim waist, a clear mark that she is his. Only his. 

The front table additionally included Naveen, Harper, Tanaka, and Tobias Carrick. When Ethan and Tobias faced encountered other at the front table, the Mass Kenmore doctor somehow took his hand out, waiting for the famous diagnostician to shake it. Ethan was stupefied at first, but then he remembered what Tobias did for them, saving his Rookie from the maitotoxin. After a rare moment Ethan shook it, sending the latter a faint smile, to which he returned. Abby beamed at their interaction, glad that they finally cleared the air that had been surrounding them for more than a decade.

Naveen greeted both of them with a hearty hug, and Harper sent both of them a pleasant smile. The Chacko looked around the decorated room to discover her friends, all relaxing at a table. When she spotted them, she gave them a huge wave, to which they imitated back. It relaxed her to have Ethan and her friends in the same room, forgetting about the upcoming discussions with the money-eating scumbags who only care about wealth and not for the wellbeing of their patients.

Tobias and Ethan sat between Abby, and all the seats were filled except for one.

As if interpreting her thoughts, Tobias sought a confused question. “Are we expecting someone else at our table?”

“I believe we are,” Naveen answered.

The young doctor wanted to talk to her friends for a little while. Otherwise, everyone was roaming around, mingling with people.

Ethan seemed to detect this because he leaned in to whisper to her ear. “If you want to hang out with your friends, you can go ahead. It’s understandable, if you’re bored, as am I. Besides, I’ll just talk to Tobias.”

Abby sent him a grateful smile, not only for excusing her, but because he wanted to talk to his old (former?) friend. She was genuinely happy that their relationship is getting better and better.

In return, she bestowed him a kiss on his cheek and went to the table across the room, where her colleagues are. 

Her friends said the usual. Bryce and Kyra are dating, and they adopted a puppy after moving in together. Sienna doesn’t think she will move on from Danny, and that her heart will always belong to him, but the enormous pain had subsided. Elijah and Phoebe went on another date which had gone really well. Jackie’s debt is under control, and she said that she felt at peace and tranquility. 

After she had finished socializing, she looked back to her reserved table, where she saw a woman, a rather charming one, probably in her 30s. She had raven hair and porcelain skin, and was assuming a royal blue dress with an elegant split across her left thigh, displaying her beautiful legs. Standing next to her boyfriend. Being too touchy with her man. Abby was ordinarily not the type to be jealous, but looking at the woman made herself feel ugly.

Her eyes went to Ethan, who had a horrified look on his face. They moved to Tobias who had a similar expression. Naveen and Harper both had uncomfortable looks.

The latter captured her eye and came up to her.

Abby was confused, so she decided to convey this confusion to Carrick. “Is everything alright at our table? Is that woman the last person to occupy the empty seat?”

Carrick sighed deeply. “She... is Dr. Aubrie Zavala. Another famous diagnostician... She is also Ethan’s ex-girlfriend.”

That’s when she glanced back at their table and saw both of them arguing.

Tobias must have noted this because he replied, “Ethan and Aubrie are both arguing now. Back in Hopkins, she cheated on with another med student named Dillan, I think. And it was at Christmas. Now Aubrie wants him back.”

The cacophonous racket heard in the auditorium drained away from the ears of the young doctor, and the sounds of warning bells replaced it. 

What the hell am I supposed to do to grab her butt off the table?

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She examined her bag and found a fake diamond ring. Her mother gave this to her; she saw this at the store and found it pretty. Abigail always kept it in her bag, a reminder that her mom loves her. It looks real, so this can work. The Chacko placed the ring on her left ring finger. Tobias, knowing what Abby was about to do, gave her a wink. She smiled back and walked over to their table.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” Abby asked innocently. Ethan’s oceanic eyes widened as he saw the mischievous gleam in her coffee eyes. 

The woman, who was now dubbed Aubrie, turned around to look at her with a grim expression. 

“Babe?” Aubrie threatened lowly, “Who the hell do you think you are, calling my Ethan ‘babe’?” Oh, this girl has it coming.

Abby offered her a fierce smile, showing off her properly ‘engagement’ ring. “Well, I’m pretty sure I called my fiancée babe, right Ethan?” 

Instantly, Ethan understood. She wanted to play as his wife-to-be now, did she? Well, that can be easily arranged, Ethan smirks, deciding to play along.

“Well, you see, Dr. Zavala, you do remember how I love hearing the opera, don’t you? I took Abby to one of my favorite operas named Carmen, and I proposed to her there. She cried happy tears and said ‘yes’.”

Aubrie’s furious face slowly drained of color, as she realized they are engaged. She now has to live with the regrets from the past. Her violent hands started to shake a little as she realized who she was arguing with the whole time.

“Wait, are you Dr. Abigail Chacko? One of the youngest doctors in America, Sister of the famous surgeon Sebastian Chacko, the youngest member of Edenbrook’s diagnostic team, and the person who cured Dr. Naveen Banerji?” Zavala asked slowly, her shrill voice starting to grow tense.

Abby, on the other hand, was having too much fun with this. “Bingo! You got it right!”

Right away, when she said that, Aubrie reluctantly left the whole table, stomping on the way like a teenager. Naveen and Harper both had amusing smiles on their faces, Tobias tried not to choke on his wine, and Ethan had the biggest smirk ever. 

Abby took off her fake ring and placed it in her bag. At once, Ethan gave her a sounding kiss on her plump lips, not minding anyone any attention. 

“How did you know I had a pretty rough time here?” Ethan asked curiously. 

She smiled triumphantly. “Well, I saw all of your uncomfortable faces at the table when Aubrie was here. Tobias saw me and gave me an explanation to what was happening. I’m so sorry you had to go through that during your med school days.”

Ramsey gently stroked her smooth and delicate cheek. “It’s fine. Besides, I got an even better woman right here.” 

Tobias cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but can you please just continue this later at home? I’m tryna drink some good wine here.”

Everyone snorted, but Ethan’s mind went back to the actual engagement ring he bought for her at their penthouse, stored inside one of his worn-out shoes. He was actually planning to propose to her tomorrow, on Christmas Day. 

Taking her to one of my favorite operas named Carmen, proposing to her there.

Oh, he can’t wait for this chaotic day to be over.

_______________________________________________________________

notes: if you’ve made it this far, thank you!

 tags:@missmiimiie @aylamwrites @starrystarrytrouble @udishaman @caseyvalentineramsey @queencarb @choicesstan1 @newcolonies @arcticrivers @angela8756 @takemyopenheart @rookie-ramsey @ohchoices @ohvamsey @ohramsey @natureblooms24 @drariellevalentine @maurine07 @lucy-268 @thanialis @drakewalkerfantasy​ 

@openheartfanfics​

@choicesficwriterscreations​

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Someone Special

Pairing: Hongjoong and Reader

Word Count: 2,704

Genre/Rating: Christmas AU - Friends to Lovers - Fluff - teeny tiny bit angst - PG-13

Overview: “Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. But the very next day you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special.”

Warning: Mentions of cheating and bareback roulette (practice safe sex my dears!)

Last Christmas by Wham!

Main Master List

Author’s Note: I hope y’all enjoy this little gift. Last Christmas is my absolute favorite song, and the movie that came out a few years ago with the same title is one of my all time favorites, so when Hongjoong dropped his cover, it gave me the inspiration to write this piece up. Merry Christmas everyone!

©thatmultifandomhoe 2020. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Snow was steadily falling, the sidewalk and roads had been covered in the first five minutes and several hours later, it was still coming down. You should have been outside shoveling the driveway, but instead, the throw blankets and the couch had beckoned you to come and watch a movie. The Christmas tree was decorated to the nines, and with only one lamp on to keep you from tripping over the furniture in the complete dark.

“Tada,” Hongjoong softly called out.

You looked away from the window, raising an eyebrow as Hongjoong walked towards you with not one, but two mugs filled to the brim with hot chocolate. The steam curled in the air as he took slow and easy steps, but he smiled with satisfaction when you carefully took the blue glazed mug from him. The moment your palms touched the side it felt as if they were being burned, but you held on to the handle as he reclaimed his seat next to you.

“You didn’t have to make this,” you teased.

He glanced over at you, eyes narrowing and lips curling into playful disgust. “Snow, movie, Christmas, of course I had to make hot chocolate.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed his half of the blanket back over his lap. Maybe it hadn’t been just the couch and blanket that had called out for you to sit down and enjoy the snow day. Maybe there had been a certain someone, who conveniently made the drive over to your place right before the storm to help with hanging a few decorations on the porch despite your reassurance that you were more than capable of doing it yourself, and was now unable to drive home due to a stay-at-home order because of how heavy the snow was coming down.

The power was still running thankfully, so for the last three hours the two of you had enjoyed – and critiqued – a variety of Christmas movies that Netflix offered. Despite them all being similar, there was no desire to exit out and find something different. It hadn’t felt like Christmas at all this season, and after a rough breakup last year around the same time, you were desperate to find the love and joy for the holiday that you once had.

Fate must have been against you however, because as Hongjoong picked up the remote to press play, a loud boom echoed outside, and the power shut off, cloaking the two of you in darkness. You waited to see if the TV would turn back on, but when the house remained silent and the only light suddenly appearing was the flashlight that Hongjoong turned on from his phone, you sighed, feeling defeated once more.

“This isn’t good,” Hongjoong said.

Even without the light on, or looking in his direction, you felt his lingering gaze on you. He knew how rough the last year had been for you, which is why you figured he offered to come out and help with decorating. There was no fun in doing it alone, and with your best friend by your side, it would at least be entertaining.

“It’s going to get cold,” you said instead, leaning forward, to set the hot chocolate on the coffee table. “Sit tight, I’ll get us some extra blankets.”

“Do you need some help?”

You shook your head, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t see. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Turning on your own flashlight, you pointed it towards the floor and walked down the hall to the bedroom. You kept the best blankets in your room of course. Out of habit you glanced up at the ceiling, half expecting the white fairy lights that Hongjoong had helped you tack along the crown molding to be on. The plan was to keep those up all year long, because there was no way in hell that you were going up and down a ladder a hundred times every November, only to take them down at the end of January. Even standing on chairs, both you and Hongjoong had to stretch to reach the top.

As expected though, the lights were off, and you sighed once more while disappearing into your bedroom, beginning to gather the blankets. Setting the phone done to fold up the blankets, your mind wandered away from the present and took a trip down memory lane.

Christmas used to be your favorite holiday. From the bright lights, to the small village displays, even hanging up stockings and dealing with relatives who you had long forgotten where still alive, there was never a moment about it that didn’t make you smile. The entire season was full of magic, and as an adult, it felt like there was a secret law that made it forbidden to make it known that you still liked to believe in something that was considered so childish.

But when it snowed and suddenly the entire world fell silent, the fresh snow glittered under the moonlight, and the stars danced brightly in the night sky, magic felt like it was the only possible answer to it all.

You had been dating Hyunjin for almost two years, and at one point, you swore that he was going to be the one. Up until him, relationships never seemed to last, and the fact that you were getting ready to celebrate your second Christmas together appeared to be a promising sign. The only issue had been that Hongjoong never cared for him. Sure, he’d listen when you talked about him, or asked for advice. He wasn’t going to tell you no. But that didn’t mean he didn’t keep it to himself whenever Hyunjin messed up or didn’t do the right thing.

“I don’t think he’s the one,” was Hongjoong’s famous line. And every time you asked who he thought the one was, he’d just shrug and change the topic before adding in a quiet, “someone who’s always been there, who doesn’t make you cry,” afterwards. You always heard it, and while you knew he never did it to hurt you, it always felt he was trying to focus on only Hyunjin’s not so great side.

No one was perfect, and that included Hyunjin and his tendencies to go out drinking with his buddies and come home drunk either by his own methods or someone driving him. Or that he had a habit of flirting with anyone who talked to him, and his gaze always lingered on someone else for too long. Sure, he had his flaws, but being with him was to love a bottle of whiskey. The more of him that you had, the easier it was to swallow back the sting and forget about the broken shards he left in his wake.

You had loved Christmas, and had loved Hyunjin, but you didn’t love walking in on him playing bareback roulette with one woman, while another sloppily kissed him as she got satisfied by woman number one at the same time.

It was the girl who had been kissing Hyunjin that noticed you, and when he looked over his shoulder at you, there was no explanation. No excuse. No apology.

“Are you going to join or just stand there?” Hyunjin had asked instead.

Despite it being your house, you were the one who left and spent the night at Hongjoong’s, crying your pathetic self into his chest because you had given Hyunjin your entire heart, and he returned it smashed into tiny shards in a Ziploc bag. When you went back a few days later, all of Hyunjin’s belongings were gone, all except for a red thong that didn’t belong to you, was left on the floor by your bed.

The neighbors must have thought you were crazy when you stomped outside with sheets and pillowcases being dragged in the snow as you threw them in the trash bin in only leggings and a shirt that Hongjoong had let you borrow. The Christmas lights were yanked out of the light sockets, and you nearly threw out the tree as well, but it was heavy and when you plopped on the couch to try and warm your feet up from walking in the snow, the tears came out again.

When you woke up the next day, it was Christmas, and the magic was gone.

“Please don’t think about him,” a soft voice suddenly said.

Flinching at the sound, you looked up to see Hongjoong standing at the doorway, his phone held up to let him see what was holding you up. You dropped the blanket you had been folding as he entered the bedroom, his footsteps quiet as he reached out and slipped his hand into yours. It was a gentle and quick tug, one that allowed him to wrap you in a hug against his chest before you had a chance to pull away.

“I didn’t want to,” you whispered, fingers curling into the brown flannel he wore.

He leaned his head against yours, choosing the better option of not saying anything. Instead, his arms tightened around your waist for a brief moment as he sighed. “Come on. Let’s go back out to the living room. Your hot chocolate is waiting for you.”

With one arm remaining around you, Hongjoong grabbed the blankets with the other and led you back out to the living room. He had been over so many times that he didn’t need light to see where he was going. The path had been memorized long ago. Since the breakup, it wasn’t usual for Hongjoong’s touch to linger, and when the two of you sat back down on the couch, he pulled you into his side before layering the blankets on top. It was only when he was satisfied that he relaxed with one arm on the back of the couch as the other laid over your waist, that he turned to face you. Thanks to the light coming from the snow and the flashlight on the coffee table, you were able to see him.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Do you miss him?”

“No.” Leaning the side of your head back against the cushion, you felt fingers smoothing back your hair before they slipped through the locks. You lightly hummed at Hongjoong’s caress, eyes briefly closing as you leaned into his touch, his soft scoff making the slightest smile appear on your face. When you opened them again however, you looked at the white light coming from his phone. “It’s just…hard to forget when the memories are tied with the holiday.”

“Sounds like you need new memories.”

You laughed then, focusing back on his face. Brown bangs covered his forehead and the sides of his undercut were starting to grow out, but even in the dark his eyes held a softness that you had been told he only had for you. His friends said he never looked at anyone else like that, and while you denied it, you couldn’t help but notice the warmth and tenderness in them this time.

“Guess I’ll have to go buy new memories next time I go grocery shopping,” you teased.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, lips curling into a grin as he shifted once more. You were all too aware of how close he got when his arm settled around your shoulders. This wasn’t out of the norm for him. He was always touchy and a cuddle bug just like you, but right now with no power and sharing about half a dozen blankets, you were all too aware of his warmth that seemed to envelope you and the sudden butterflies flying around in your stomach. Coaxing and full of promises, all you had to do was trust it.

“You know what I mean,” Hongjoong said, leaning towards the coffee table to grab his mug. “One good memory will help lessen the pain of previous ones.”

Yours was still sitting where you left it, untouched, but after drinking what he wanted, he held it out for you to take like he knew what you had been thinking about. Not wanting to disturb the blankets too much, you carefully slipped your palms out from underneath to cradle the mug.

“Who?” You asked, tracing the rim of the mug with a finger. It wasn’t burning hot to the touch, a little more than warm, and when you looked up to see his curious frown, it was like that same warmth spread all the way up and down your body. All because of just one look from Hongjoong. “You always said he wasn’t the one for me. So, who is?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it right now.”

“You never liked him, or any of my exes,” the hot chocolate was rich when you took a sip, the mini marshmallows that he had added to his were long since melted and resembled long, thin white clouds. “Someone who’s always been there. You were always talking about yourself, weren’t you?”

He didn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he focused on the window that was behind you and the thumb that had been running along your shoulder stilled. The fact that he wasn’t answering you, in a way, answered the question by itself. Hongjoong pressed his lips together and when he finally looked back at you, you got to see for yourself the way his expression softened and how despite his little secret coming out in the open, he sheepishly smiled.

“They weren’t right for you,” he simply said.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

His thumb began moving again and he took the mug away to set it back on the table. “Because you loved them. It wouldn’t have been fair to drop such a thing when you were dating other guys.”

“It wasn’t fair to you.” With nothing to hold on to, you started to lace your fingers together when Hongjoong gently swatted them away. When he slipped in his hand into yours and ran his thumb against the back of your palm, you swore you all but melted into him.

“I mean, from where I’m sitting,” he started to say, even lifting your intertwined hands to tilt your chin up so you were looking at him, suddenly much closer than before as he gently pressed his forehead against yours. “It seems pretty fair now.”

He spoke softly, and despite his confidence over his actions, he hesitated.

With only a tilt you leaned forward, closing the distance to kiss him. His lips tasted sweet from the hot chocolate and even as he kissed you back, he started to smile, forcing the two of you to lean back with matching grins. Hongjoong made up for it though, going back another, and then a third, until the kisses finally melted together. It was only when the audio from the TV filled the room that the two of you broke apart to see that the power had come back on.

“I guess there’s still some magic out there,” you softly spoke, glancing around the room to see that the tree was once more lit up.

Hongjoong merely smiled as he shut the TV off and reached over, turning you back around to face him. “The magic’s always been there,” he promised, “you just didn’t know where to look for it.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about the magic of Christmas, or this, but when he brought you closer and kissed you again, taking his sweet time to show how much he loved you, you liked to think that it was both.

Outside the window, the snow had slowed down, but it was too late to go out and begin digging out cars and clearing driveways. That could be done in the morning, or even the afternoon. As Hongjoong cupped the side of your face and sweetly kissed you like he had been destined to do so all along, the tainted and painful memories of last Christmas melted away as new ones took their place.

With Hongjoong, there wouldn’t be any more tears, or a shattered heart for Christmas this year. Maybe the magic is finding someone special who’ll treasure, and love a heart, that’s been broken and patched up without a second thought.

[aesthbaby]

Midnight favor

Summary:  Reader is running out in the middle of the night to get food that Emily is craving.

Pairings: Reader x Emily Prentiss

Prompt: Basically the same as the summary, I found it on this prompt generator website

Warnings: Chocolate? 

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist:

An: Working on clearing out my draft box.

“Pretty please?” She sticks her bottom lip out and starts pampering your neck with kisses. “I promise to do the dishes for the rest of the week.”

“Emily,” You turn to her. “You never do the dishes.”

“Exactly!” She looks at you like a sad puppy. “If you go get them I’ll finally do them.”

“Two weeks?” You up the stakes.

She narrows her eyes on you before agreeing. “Fine!” You get your coat and slip on the nearest pair of shoes. “Wait, woah, what are you doing? Those are mine.”

You look at her like she’s grown another head. “Your point?” You start walking around your loft in search of your missing phone. “If I’m going out to get you-” You stick your head out the doorway to her. “What was it again?”

“Green Tea Kit Kats, two of them please.” You never pegged Emily as a Kit-Kat person but when word got out about the U.S. getting their hands on it, Em was ecstatic. You stand in from of her with her on the couch, feet on the coffee table. “What?”

“How much do these cost?”

She rolls her eyes and reaches for her wallet. “Do you really want to know?” She draws out the ‘really’ and god does it sound good when she says it like that. Your girlfriend hands you a 50, mouthing a thank you in return. You head for the door and before opening it you hear a quick, “Keep your phone on!” from behind you.

Green Tea Kti-Kat...unbelievable. You head out into the cold. You almost bump into Mrs. Shapiro, your next door neighbor. She adjusts her glasses and squints up at you. “Well hello Y/n Prentiss.”

You laugh at the older woman’s shenanigans. “I’ve told you a million times, Mrs. Shapiro.” You hold the door open for her. “We’re not married.”

She offers you quiet thank you. “Its about time. You’ve been living together for a few months now.”

“That’s not long enough to propose marriage.”

“Me and my husband were engaged before we ever met.” When you found out that their marriage was arranged before they were even born, it shocked you.

“Well, Emily and I want to get to know each other before we commit to something like that.”

She shrugs at your remark. “Emily is what the young people call a ‘catch.’ If you don’t wed her soon, someone else might.” That one threw you for a loop.

You simply smile at her and turn to leave. “Have a good night Mrs. S.”

The corner store was out of them...of course. Two stops later in the freezing cold you finally find a store with the green candies. “How many?” The cashier asks.

“How many can I get?” The display looks well stocked, its tempting to buy your girlfriend the entire shelf but that’d be rude right?

“State has us putting a limit on these.” The man nudges to the stock behind him. “But for you? I could let it slide.” As he’s talking he leans over the counter, closer to you. There’s an overwhelming stench of kitchen grease on him that makes you want to spill your guts on the tile floors. You play along, smile and pretend like you’re thinking about it. All while fishing into your jacket for your badge. When met with your credentials the man jumps back like he’s seen a ghost. You almost laugh at the fool infront of you who has almost tripped on his own feet.

“So about the kit-kats?” You tilt your head with a small smile.

He does a little nervous laugh before reaching for the display. “Here. On the house.”

“Are you sure? I can pay-”

“No no its fine, really.”

You bid him a polite farewell and start your trip home.

“Hey.” You hear Emily’s voice from the living room as you open the door. “What took you so long?”

A quick glance in the kitchen tells you the dishes haven’t been done. “Oh nothing,” There she is, on the couch in your same spot. “Just enjoying the scenery. I got a surprise, close your eyes.”

“This better not be a puppy.”

“A puppy? What? Nevermind, are your eyes closed?”

“Yes baby my eyes are closed.”

You peak your head around the corner to make sure she’s telling the truth. She looks like a little kid. You take the box and loudly dump it on the coffee table. Then gently place her fifty dollar bill on the top of the pile “Okay now I’m too scared to open them.”

“You’re going to love it, promise.”

“All I asked for was chocolate so this is concerning.” You lightly pull her hands away from her eyes to revel the 40 chocolate bars you acquired. She’s speechless for a second so you nudge her. “Did you rob the place?” Your smile grows even wider at her accusation. “Because you do know that’s an abuse of power right?”

“Shut up and eat.” You hand her one of the pieces off the table. “Or else I’ll just take them back.”

Didn’t have to tell her twice. “But really,” she says with a full mouth. “How did you get this much without spending any money?”

You lightly laugh to yourself as the earlier memory plays in your head. “Some guy at the store was being really creepy so I flashed my badge.” A perfectly plucked eyebrow arches itself. “I know, not something I’d usually do but he had it coming.”

“And he just gave you all of this?”

“I offered to pay...” You shrug and listen as Emily falls into a fit of laughter.

“I’m just imagining the look on his face.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think I can ever go back there...”

 “Yeah, your face will probably be on one of those ‘banned’ posters outside of the window.” You playfully throw the nearest pillow at her. Effectively smearing green chocolate on it.

.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*★*･ ･*･'･*:..:*･゜ﾟ･*☆*:. .｡.:*☆

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