#only murders fanfiction

[ghosthorse-tracks]

Only Murders in the Building | 3x08

[hereforthecartoons]

Fanon Ben in (mainly) crossover fics: i cant take another persons life ): thats not what heroes do!!

Canon Ben: tried to kill kevin multiple times in classic, probably actually killed some criminals that summer when he was 10, had a whole arc about deciding whether to kill a reformed kevin (and got pretty fucking close), clearly threatened to kill a group of villians if they continued their genocide of alien life, probably tried to kill vilgax at some points-

[occasionallyprosie]

The Look of the Hero

Chapter 1: "Bending the Knee"

After a string of particularly nasty battles, resulting in a deficit of healing items, the heroes end up in Legend's era just outside Kakariko. Only… the supposed relationship Legend has with the town turns out to be just a bit different than what they thought. Warriors especially isn't happy with what he discovers, and he knows Sky and Twilight won't be either.

Next>>

Read On AO3

----

Legend had Hyrule slumped against him, his arm looped over his shoulder. The others were staggering behind as he led the way to the closest town and safe settlement despite how much panic it sourced in his head.

His hair was still pink, it hadn't faded since Twilight begged him to change into a bunny while the rancher was sick. He was in his red mail—it was stronger and better protection than his hero's tunic—his hair had grown out significantly—Ravio and Wind like to braid it so he grew it out for them— and he didn't have his contacts in—he lost them in his fight with Yuga.

The panic about his appearance thrummed in his mind as they arrived at Kakariko Village and where it was nestled in the mountainside.

"Is that... Link?"

Legend looked up and spotted the woman who stood at the path, holding a crate of books.

“M—Miss Purah!" He called. "I have wounded, is there—"

"Come!" She said quickly, already rushing further into town. "I'll have the infirmary ready for a dozen."

"There's nine—" he sighed as she disappeared from view. He shook his head.

"Purah?" Wild asked. “I have a Purah too.” His voice was pained, most likely due to the rather deep gash in his side which he couldn’t even rest a bit as he helped Four, who had a broken leg.

"My... An old friend," Legend said. "I grew up in—near Kakariko. Come on. They'll help us."

Please don't let them call the elder.

They filed into the infirmary. Legend made sure everyone got to a bed as the medics quickly began to fuss over them. Just as he got Time into one of the beds, Purah dragged him to the last one and sat him down herself.

She wrapped his bleeding arm in a bandage as they spoke in quiet whispers. She didn't give him a potion—they both knew the elder disapproved of that—but she ran a hand through his hair.

"Link..." she breathed, worry filling her eyes.

"I-I haven't been able to fix it," he whispered. "I became a bunny again and last time it faded to blond but my roots are coming in and—"

"I'll fix it. I'll fix it, Kit," she promised. "Your clothes too, I’m sure I have some spare somewhere. Sahasrahla may be on his way if anyone mentioned your return—"

The door swung open.

Legend knew who it was before he even looked, it was the way the door was opened, the way they stepped into the room with a step, step-thud. Purah shifted to block him, but they both knew it was no use.

"Ah. Link."

Legend forced himself off the medical bed—ignoring both Twilight and Warriors telling him to not to—and dropped down on one knee, propping an arm on it and bowing his head.

"Elder Sahasrahla," he greeted blankly.

He didn't hear a response, but he also wasn't given permission to stand. Pain burned through him, his rib was still injured and his knee in bad condition too, his—Purah hadn't had time to help him bind it, but that wasn't something Sahasrahla would care about.

"So who are our guests?" Sahasrahla asked, moving further into the infirmary. Legend didn't dare move his ears to listen easier, keeping them straight back and hearing the medics continue to work with the other heroes. He begged one of them to speak up, knowing he wasn't granted permission to say a word.

"Kit, please," Purah whispered to him as Warriors spoke up and introduced them. "You’re badly hurt."

He barely glanced at her, meeting her worried eyes and saw her reluctantly give in.

The others spoke up, thank the goddesses, and explained the situation to Sahasrahla. They explained the time travel and the portals they all followed, Legend had hoped they'd mention how sometimes they had no choice but to enter a portal, but nobody did and he knew that dug his grave deeper.

Purah slipped a new bracelet over his wrist, almost silently pleading with him not to lose it in their tongue.

Once Sahasrahla was satisfied by the information he was given, he made that clear.

"I see. I will not bother you all any longer, though I must speak with Link."

"No—"

Purah went silent when Legend hit her leg.

"Was there something else you wished to mention, young Purah?"

Legend needed her to stay quiet, but of course she didn’t. "Elder, Link is still injured. He requires healing—"

"Purah," Legend spoke, daring to break his silence. He didn't raise his head. "I'm fine."

"Link—"

"See, he's fine. Let's go, young one."

Legend rose. He nearly fell back again but managed to play it off as bowing again as Sahasrahla left. He forced himself back to his feet and followed without looking any of his companions in the eye.

The villagers looked sad when they saw him, blood soaking the side of his tunic, the slight limp in his step from rolling his ankle on a rock while fending off a monster.

Sahasrahla led him to the elder's home and Legend promptly dropped to a kneel as soon as they entered, hoping his blood didn't drip to the carpet floor.

Sahasrahla moved around him and he held his breath, preparing for the oncoming scolding and pain.

And like clockwork it came. A hand grabbing his hair and forcing him to raise his head.

"What is this?" Sahasrahla hissed. "And amongst heroes too? I do not know why some wore blue, or red and purple in addition to it, or why one wore full armor, but this is not the look of a hero."

He pulled his hair painfully and suddenly he was ten again, fresh after his first adventure.

"This hair must be fixed," the elder said lowly. "Burn this wretched pink out, and cut it too. This is far too long for a hero. And your eyes—"

Link only barely kept his face impassive and kept the tears from forming as Sahasrahla grabbed his chin now, grip punishing, and further forced his face up so he could see his eyes.

"Red is not the color of the hero. Green or blue are his colors, we were kind enough to allow you to choose blue for your eyes. And that goes for your clothing too."

He practically threw Link's face aside, the kid teenager barely managed not to fall over with the force.

"What was that the woman said? You required medical attention? And that cut in your arm... do not think I didn't see your limp either, Link. Tell me."

"My injuries are shallow and unimportant, they will heal by dawn," he forced out.

"Bah!" The elder's cane smacked his face, breaking open his lip. He barely kept himself from making a sound, or reacting to the hit. "You should not have been injured in the first place! You were trained better than that, boy."

"Yes, Elder."

"You will fix your hair, and your eyes, and your clothes. I best see a real hero next time you enter my village."

"Yes, Elder."

"And remind that woman, Purah, that you are nobody to her. Remember, Link. You are a Hylian, an average nobody, you have no ties to this village other than visiting to sell produce."

"Yes, Elder."

He managed to get back to the infirmary without collapsing, but that meant nothing for the moment he reached the bed.

Legend woke up pained, but to his shock, he didn't see the ceiling of the Kakariko inn. 

He saw the ceiling of a room he hadn't slept in since he was eight. 

It took him a second to realize it, and the moment he did, he shot up.

Any pain that flared through him was promptly ignored as he pushed himself onto his feet and leaned against the tabletop that was once covered in papers and pencils and paints and oils, it still was but far neater and organized.

He knocked over a chair and he knew it, he leaned back against the table, breathing heavily and blinking spots from his eyes.

The door opened and he froze up.

"Schol—Link? Are you alright?" Warriors. The blur of color brought the familiar voice toward him. He shook his head to try and clear the daze of injury and overnight healing.

"Captain?" He had to make sure.

"Yeah—You gave us a bit of a scare there, Scholar," he said and gloved hands guided him to sit on the bed he had near leapt from. "Miss Purah let us stay in her house, she said the old man—the elder, I mean, isn't allowed to enter a home unwelcome no matter his status."

Legend nodded. "It's against tradition, the home is to be protected against all evils, even emotional ones. If someone wished to enter, they can't cause any distress or lead others in the home to feel in danger, and as hosts we had to make sure any guests felt protected."

"The Sheikah are secretive in my time, I didn't know that," Warriors said and finally his vision was fully cleared and he could meet Warriors' eyes. "We need to talk, Link."

Legend grimaced. "Do we?"

"You walked away from the medics while extremely injured. We've had this talk before—"

"I didn't have a choice," Legend snapped, dropping his gaze and avoiding eye contact. "It won't happen again."

"Link," he flinched back from that damned name, Warriors reached out to grasp his arm, "what did that man do to you? You came back with a fresh bruise on your face and a cut on your lip that I know for a fact wasn't there before."

  Because Warriors had been the one to check Legend after the fight, because Warriors was their field medic and knew every single injury shown or mentioned.

Legend refused to look at him but Warriors was moving so he'd meet his eyes. What was worse was he met those bright blue—a soft cobalt color, almost metallic or maybe aquatic in shade—eyes, he felt a surge of fear at the reminder of the absence of contacts in his own.

He brought a hand up to cover them, forcing out a breath and ignoring the small flare of pain when he brushed a sensitive bruise.

"Look, the Elder has certain expectations and I—"

"So he did that to you."

"Captain—"

"No. Did he or did he not hit you?"

Legend didn't respond but Warriors pulled his hand down from blocking his eyes. Piercing metallic blue eyes cut through Legend as Warriors forced him to meet his eyes.

"Link—"

"Stop it," he tried. "It's not—It's not a big deal, I know better—"

"Vet, you’re a kid."

"I'm not!"

"You're underaged in every era that has an age of majority!"

Warriors squeezed Legend's shoulders, trying to get the younger hero to just see what he was talking about. He was one of the few people who Legend actually told his age, which was surprising seeing as they were the least close for a while there.

Warriors had seen how dynamics played out from the beginning. Wind and Legend were a pair from the start, likewise Sky and Wild seemed to get along well while Twilight and Four were near inseparable. Warriors had been happy to have his baby brother—even if he wasn't a baby anymore—at his side again, and Time didn't seem to mind sticking closer, besides, his Sprite seemed to have gotten a Sprite of his own as Hyrule always seemed to follow after Time.

As time went on, Warriors had noticed the dynamics shift. Wild gravitated more towards Legend, who also attracted Hyrule into their little trio. Wind latched onto Time. Warriors found himself finding a strong feeling of camaraderie in Twilight and Sky. Four flitted around each group with ease.

And things kept shifting, generally reverting back to their very first pairings, but they came to a balanced mix where everyone was mostly comfortable with everyone.

 Yet, it took a long time before Warriors could actually connect with Legend. After he did, it was a night they needed to gather information and they were paired off, that Legend confided his age to Warriors.

The captain never expected their veteran to be seventeen, much less sixteen when they first met and turning seventeen within a couple months of gathering together, but that was the case. It became more obvious with time, but nonetheless, the teenager sitting in front of him was mature beyond his years...

That didn't mean he wasn't still a kid, and people who'd known him since he was little would know that.

Even if he didn't, the elder had no right to strike Legend.

Warriors squeezed Legend's shoulders gently and spoke fast enough that Legend didn't get a chance to argue without interrupting. "I'm not calling you a child, but you’re still a kid and even if you weren't, he has no right to raise a hand to you."

Legend scowled. "It was a cane, first of all—"

Warriors gaped. "A cane?!"

Legend seemed to realized that was not the right thing to say if he wanted Warriors to stop worrying or pushing. "It doesn't matter! It's not a big deal and it was perfectly avoidable if I was just—"

To the captain's surprise, Legend floundered for a moment, scrambling to find words, which was extremely uncharacteristic of their scholar.

"—if I just—I know better than to come to Kakariko like this." He gestured vaguely.

Warriors frowned. "Like what, Link."

He didn't like how Legend recoiled at his own name.

"Like... red and-and... not... not green," he said weakly, trying to hide his head in his hands again but Warriors quickly caught his face in his own hands. He was careful not to touch his injuries, but gently made him look up.

Red. Red like his eyes, dark and deep like rubies, in certain light they looked like fire, lava at the depths of volcanoes, and in other light they glinted like pools of blood.

He brushed his thumb under Legend's eye, gentle and careful. "Red like these?"

Legend grimaced and nodded. "I... I have contacts—I had contacts, blue ones, I lost them when I fought Yuga and Ganon last time but... I-I thought... I hoped I didn't need to replace them."

And if he wasn’t supposed to come here without them, he didn't intend to come back to Kakariko at all.

"Red like your tunic too?" Warriors added, raising an eyebrow and Legend nodded. "Why can't you wear red or let your natural eye color be there?"

He winced. "Because heroes don't look like the shadows they defeat."

"Who told you that?" Warriors asked.

Legend gave him an incredulous look. Warriors sighed.

"Did others than the elder tell you that?"

"Most of the old folk," Legend huffed. "Only Momma and Aunty said I shouldn't need to change to be a hero."

Warriors studied his face, the way his shoulders were drawn in and how he avoided eye contact. The way he spoke, quiet and almost hushed rather than just soft.

"Okay—Listen, your appearance doesn't define how much of a hero you are," Warriors told him firmly, well aware he was being hypocritical. "We can get Sky and everyone else who came before you, whoever they're making you emulate, talk to him and handle this."

"You can't—"

"You've never mentioned a mother before, Link."

Legend flinched again and Warriors wondered if he just shouldn't call him by his name.

"I... I don't have a mother," he corrected himself firmly.

“Then who told you that you didn’t need to change to be a hero?” Warriors needed him to stop holding onto this now-obvious lie he was expected to tell. Someone, the elder, had done something to make Legend deny his own mother. “Kid, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we aren’t exactly the most homogenous group, goddesses, the only ones with blue eyes are the Rancher, Champion, and Sprite. The Sailor has green, Traveler’s and Smithy’s are brown, mine are gray, and the Sky Knight’s, I swear, jump between blue and white.”

Legend snorted. “White? He isn’t the Old Man.”

“There’s a difference there and I stand by my words.” Warriors grinned a bit, he got him to laugh. “My point is, would you expect any of us to change our appearance for the sake of… what? Tradition?”

“No…” He almost smirked at how petulant Legend looked for a moment there. “But that’s—That’s different! You’re all—You…”

“We’re what?”

“You’re hylian,” he near whispered. “I…”

“I’m part Gerudo,” Warriors admitted. “My great grandmother was a Gerudo. Not to mention that the Skyloftian is human, and the Traveler’s half fairy. Kid—“

“But you’re part hylian, both you and the Traveler. Sky founded Hyrule, he’s the Chosen Hero, you think anyone debates whether or not he’s a hero?”

“Why does our blood matter? Why does our heritage matter?” Warriors pressed. “Come on, we both know that you don’t care that much, you’re just trying to justify it. Why are you actually worried about this?”

The long beat of silence that followed proved Warriors was right, the way Legend hunched in on himself.

He whispered something, far too quietly for Warriors to hear much less understand.

“I can’t hear you, kid.”

He glanced at him, then—still quiet, still barely a whisper, but just loud enough that Warriors could hear—repeated himself.

“He said he’d exile them… my mother and my aunt… Aunty could survive, she’s a warrior, we—they’re trained for survival. But Momma…” Legend trailed off. “She’s a scholar, not a warrior, she knows the theory but… Not to mention, Sahasrahla has all of the warriors under his thumb, Sheikah assassins, and if I… if I go too far, he’d send them after them.”

He was being threatened. His kid brother was being threatened, forced into this role by an old guy in power.

Warriors held back his fury to push pink locks back, and guide Legend to stop looking down at his lap to look him in the eyes.

“We won’t let him, you hear me? I’ll take Sky and the Rancher, and we’ll have a talk with him. We won’t hurt him, but we’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?” Legend looked almost scared, eyes going wide and staring at him. "You can't hurt him. He's not--He isn't a bad person, Captain, he's just... set in his ways."

Ignoring that Legend was literally defending his abuser. “We’ll handle it, and I swear, he won't be... physically harmed, I can't vouch he won't take a hit to his ego though." He knew the other two would be absolutely ecstatic to… talk to the elder. “Do you trust me?”

“I do! I do, you’re—Of course, I trust you, all three of you, you’re my—But—you can’t just… Can you?”

He gently squeezed the back of his neck, pulling the younger hero closer and pressing his lips against his forehead. Legend went slack, inhaling sharply.

“We’ll take care of it," he said softly against his forehead, pulling away to look him in the eyes, "just trust me.”

“I… Okay,” Legend nodded slightly, something sad and resigned in his eyes. “Okay. I trust you.”

Next>>

[willgraham-manwhore]

s02e12 - Tome-wan

Will looking suspiciously handsome in his fantasy where he slits Hannibal's throat. I mean come on an unbuttoned shirt? Intense unbroken eye contact??

"I'm going to kill you Hannibal. You're going to die by my hand, as we stand face to face. With my shirt unbuttoned... and your hot, crimson blood raining down all over me..." ... Why are you smiling Dr. Lecter?

[potterandpromises]

@darkerstark said: How about some "missing scenes" from 4x01? Like Mabel and Theo having a little friendly/flirty chat while she's packing her things for L.A. (he casually asks if she's going to meet up with Tobert there and she's all like Tobert who and he mentally files that under Very Interesting)?

On the floor by Theo’s coat closet, Mabel rummages through her moving boxes. She needs something for a meeting with some Hollywood bigwigs, plus something for a party or two. She never unpacked, nor has she managed to keep her things neatly storied.

She’s sorry for the mess, for how long it’s been here.

Theo opens the door. “Thank you,” she signs with both hands, “thank you, thank you!"

Mabel had storied her suitcase in Teddy Dimas’ empty apartment with the rest of the things she didn’t normally need. Something she'd only remembered an hour ago. She texted Theo to vent, and 15 minutes later he was facetiming her from a Target.

He smiles, a bit bashfully, and sets the new suitcase down.

She rips the tags off, tugs the zipper open, and retrieves a tan jacket from one of several boxes labeled clothes. She folds it haphazardously, and Theo watches, thoughtful.

She pauses, and still a bit high from his generosity, smiles at him like 'what?'

(A solid 20% of their communication is solely through smiles and eyebrows.)

“I was just wondering…” he pauses. Oddly. “Are you going to visit—“

His fingerspelling is too fast for her and he has to repeat himself. “T-O-B-E-R-T."

“Oh, ah, I don’t think so?” He’d texted her a photo of the airplane wing when he landed in L.A. and nothing sense then. He hasn't really been on her mind, she realizes. Maybe if she were in the city longer and they were old flames or something, it’d be nice to meet up, but she’s only going to be there a couple days, and why string him along?

Theo crosses his arms, creases his eyebrows, tilts his head like if he changes the angle it’ll make her make sense.

“No,” she signs, “I’m not going to see him.”

Theo nods, and there's something in his expression—a lip bite, a shift of his gaze—she can't quite decipher.

[quotablefanfiction]

“Shixiong, if you’re dying, I need you to say something.” Luo Binghe groaned louder, flopping over on his side. “That’s probably not good,” Shen Yuan told Xin Mo. The sword merely radiated its indifference at its wielder’s distress, nudging more qi through Shen Yuan’s meridians in a clear bid for attention. “Charming as your self-centeredness is, it does not actually outweigh my desire not to have a dead body in my workshop, I’m sorry.” Xin Mo pouted.

Xin Mo is not that concerned about anyone’s wellbeing (chp. 1)

murder cat sword only likes its wielder’s boyfriend by PandaFlower (AO3) The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System – Teen – Luò Bīnghé/Shěn Yuán #Alternate Universe #No Transmigration #Wan Jian Peak Shen Yuan #Humor #Sexual Humor #Sex #First Time #Nerdiness and speculation on Xin Mo’s nature #responsible use of aphrodisiacs

Instead of being found by Huan Hua Palace disciples, Luo Binghe meets a Wan Jian disciple who instantly falls in love with his sword.

No, not that sword. Xin Mo.

[multifandom--mess]

just attempted to read a hannigram mcd and immediately wanted to k!ll myself 😣

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Only Murders in the Building

Sample Size: 104 stories

Source: AO3

[fightingalgth8rs]

Guys I did it! First Chapter is OUT NOW!!!!

This is my first time posting on AO3 and I really don't know how it works so please excuse any mortal blunders I have made! Also please forgive any typos my dyslexic ass made :P

I hope ya'all like it! <3

@do-angels-dream-of-starry-seas @reloha @dtmsrpfcringe @davidtennantgenderenvy @literatemisfit

@sakuranova07 @ivankaramazov07 @helpits4am

@abiiii-ineffable @theawkwardavenger @periwinklefox13 @glitterypin @princeloww and all those who've been egging me on!

🌞Meena

[el-ffej]

That point when you're 2/3rds through writing a long fanfic:

[vendettasfanfictioning]

Whatever I was expecting to see when I sorted the Hunter X Hunter fandom tag by biggest word count, a dead dove(ish) slash fic between Hisoka Morow and Hannibal Lecter was not on my fucking list.

[venusjeon]

angel in the marble preview

pairing: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

(set in 1529)

From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

[potterandpromises]

I think I've been wanting to write Eva's Thoughts™ on Mabel and Theo's relationship since the character was announced.

"So, what's the deal with Theodore Dimas? Does he mean anything to Mabèl?"

Mabel gives Eva a hard stare.

"The two of you bonding, how did that happen? I mean I know how it happened, I listened to the podcast. But it's weird, don't you think?"

Mabel turns her phone off, leaves Theo's text unanswered. "No, I don't."

"Oh come on," Eva says. "What's the deal there? What is he to you?"

Mabel considers the question. Not that she'll give a real answer; the movie plot only covers season 1, so her current relationship with Theo is truly none of Eva's business.

"I was on Reddit," Eva continues. "Do you use Reddit? Anyway, someone posted these pictures of you and him at this diner and a lot of people were saying—“

"Theo is—“ she can't believe she's giving in. "He's one of my favorite people."

It's the truth. Eva nods slowly, intrigued, and Mabel gets the feeling she just opened up Pandora's box.

"Your favorite person, who killed your best friend when you were teenagers—if accidentally—and who once tied you up and threw you in the back of a van filled with corpses. See, I like it, but is it an angle your fans will really get? Wouldn't it be interesting if—“

"No." She's had enough interesting relationships for awhile.

[maineshewrote]

Same word, different font

Soft comfort character persuaded to give an uncomfortably impromptu performance of a sweet familiar song which changes entirely in the middle of the performance thanks to an extremely lucky otherwise pointless side character who gets up to sing with her idol in a stage-like setting in a living room with no planned choreography which turns out beautiful

[merylstreepsworld]

Gliding Through Love

Pairing: Loretta Durkin x Fem!reader

Word count: 1,283

Summary: Eager to embrace the Christmas magic, you and Loretta embark on an enchanting adventure.

During the festive season in New York City, the streets transform into a dazzling spectacle. Vibrant lights dance in intricate patterns, adorning the bustling streets and storefronts adorned with enchanting Christmas decorations. As you eagerly traverse the lively sidewalks, you clutch Loretta's hand, the excitement palpable in your hurried pace. With flushed cheeks against the brisk city air, you urge her forward, captivated by the radiant displays enveloping you.

Under the radiant, twinkling city lights of New York City at night, Loretta stands, a vision of wonder and affection. Her eyes, alight with a blend of amazement and love, reflect the luminous atmosphere surrounding you both. The soft glow highlights the interwoven strands of her silver and light brown hair, styled into two charming braids cascading over her shoulders, framing her face like ethereal adornments.

Wrapped snugly in a puffy, insulated coat, she exudes warmth against the frigid cold, the garment a shield against the winter's bite. A funky hat, its neutral tones harmonizing with the jacket, crowns her head, adding a touch of whimsy to her ensemble while keeping her head cozy.

Her hands, clad in gloves, perfectly fit within your own, forming a seamless connection even amidst the layers of warmth. As her gaze meets yours, the city's glittering backdrop seems to pale in comparison to the radiance emanating from her eyes, suffused with a mix of fascination for the surroundings and an unmistakable affection directed towards you. In this enchanting moment, the night's luminosity only serves to accentuate the captivating sight of Loretta, a portrait of beauty and love under the shimmering cityscape.

"Come on! Come on!" Your voice exudes enthusiasm as you guide her through the illuminated thoroughfares. Loretta, trailing behind, hastens to keep up, her soft laughter echoing in the wintry atmosphere.

Amidst this spectacle, your ultimate destination emerges – Rockefeller Center. Before you stands the colossal Christmas tree, towering majestically above, eliciting a sense of wonder. Your gaze ascends, mouth agape, as you share the moment with the older woman by your side, both bundled up against the cold in woolen coats and hats. "It's amazing," you breathe in a hushed tone, awestruck by the grandeur.

Loretta's giggles intermingle with your marvel, her affectionate gesture nudging your shoulder as she leans closer, arm intertwining with yours. "It is pretty amazing," she whispers, drawing nearer to you.

As your attention briefly shifts from the magnificent tree to Loretta, the gleam of the twinkling lights reflects in her eyes, rendering her absolutely resplendent. "Come on! Let's go ice skating!" With renewed excitement, you tug at her arm, her laughter trailing behind as she follows, reveling in your eagerness.

With skates secured and excitement brimming, you both make your way onto the glistening ice after securing and lacing up your skates, each lending a hand to the other. As you tentatively tread onto the rink, Loretta grasps your hand for support. Gripping the railing tightly, you're resolute, determined to maintain your balance.

Amidst the initial wobbles, Loretta extends her other hand for stability. "We got this," you assert optimistically, attempting to infuse encouragement into the skating venture. Tentatively, your legs set into motion – right, left, a cautious glide. Meanwhile, Loretta relies on your guidance, holding onto you as you navigate the ice together.

Playfully teasing, you quip to Loretta about her apparent lack of skating and your carrying the load. "Looks like someone's enjoying a free ride while I do all the skating," you jest, nudging her playfully

Loretta chuckles, her laughter ringing in the crisp air. her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Well, I've got the best view from here, don't I?" Her playful banter matches your own, her fingers tightening around yours for reassurance.

As the ice beneath your skates glimmers with reflected light, you take on the role of Loretta's impromptu skating instructor. With patience and care, you offer guidance, gently encouraging her to find her balance and rhythm on the ice.

Positioning yourself beside her, your arm becomes a steady support as you guide her through the initial strides. "Relax your stance, darling," you suggest, your voice calm and reassuring. "Feel the ice beneath your blades. You've got this."

With deliberate movements, you demonstrate the basic techniques, demonstrating how to shift weight from one foot to the other, gliding with controlled motions. As Loretta tentatively follows suit, you offer words of encouragement, adjusting your pace to match hers.

"Lean slightly forward, that's it," you advise, your hand lightly resting on her back for added stability. "Now, push off gently and let the ice carry you."

With each instruction, Loretta gains more confidence, her movements gradually becoming smoother. You stay close, offering continuous support and guidance, celebrating every small triumph together. Through your patience and encouragement, she begins to find her own rhythm, slowly but surely gaining the confidence to skate more independently.

In a seamless transition, both of you glide across the ice, hand in hand, effortlessly navigating the rink. Amidst the graceful movements, conversation flows freely between you, voices mingling with the soft sounds of skates gliding against the icy surface. Your gloved fingers intertwine, forming a warm and intimate connection despite the wintry surroundings.

After reveling in the joy of skating, the suggestion of indulging in some comforting hot cocoa meets swift agreement from Loretta. "Oh, some hot cocoa sounds amazing right now!" she exclaims, cheeks flushed with a rosy hue from both the exhilaration of skating and the frosty air. A gentle, chilled kiss lands on her equally cold cheek, eliciting a deeper blush in response.

Guided by Loretta, you both find yourselves at a beloved café. Nestled in its cozy ambiance, you eagerly order steaming mugs of hot cocoa to chase away the lingering chill from the skating excursion.

Seated together at a secluded corner table, you relish the warmth that seeps through the ceramic cups cradled between your palms. Gloves removed, you embrace the heat, savoring the comforting sensation as it gradually soothes your cold fingers. As the hot cocoa reaches the perfect sipping temperature, you close your eyes momentarily, a contented smile gracing your lips. "Mmm, perfect," you murmur, the warmth spreading through you with each delightful sip.

Following suit, Loretta takes a sip, mirroring your posture, her expression mirroring your satisfaction as the comforting heat spreads within her. Both of you share a moment of quiet contentment, wrapped in the comforting embrace of the hot cocoa and each other's company.

As the night deepens, enveloping the city in its serene embrace, you and Loretta draw closer, seeking warmth not just from the surroundings but from each other's presence. Snuggled closer, you find comfort in the simple pleasure of being together, the shared silence speaking volumes about the depth of your connection.

Wrapped in the quietude of the café, the ambiance around you fades into the background, leaving only the gentle hum of conversations and the occasional clink of cups. In these moments, words become secondary; the shared glance, the subtle touch, and the warmth radiating between you convey everything that needs to be said.

In this tranquil atmosphere, contentment thrives, not reliant on words but on the sheer delight of sharing this serene interlude with someone special. Each passing minute strengthens the bond between you, the unspoken understanding deepening with every shared moment.

Finally, as the night matures, the time comes to bid adieu to the enchanting Christmas wonderland of New York City. With a lingering hug and a promise of more adventures, you and Loretta venture back into the crisp night air, hearts warmed not just by the hot cocoa but by the enduring warmth of a cherished connection, illuminated by the magical glow of Christmas in the city.

[all-m-o1-hero]

UHG THIS MOMENT IN ENGRAVED IN YOUR MIND FUCKING RUINED ME

POOR BABY

Fucjjj

Anywayyyy here ya go @albino-pony luv ya work ❤️❤️❤️