#this is a formal apology for not doing my christmas event....

[yueebby]

gojo satoru, who kisses you senselessly under the mistletoe (that he had put up) in your dark living room illuminated by the soft glow of the christmas tree while the two of you were supposed to be placing presents underneath the tree for megumi and tsumiki. of course, he is also wearing a santa costume that makes the entire situation quite comical. when you try to break the kiss to remind him of your present-placing mission, he only places a firm hand on your waist and kisses you even deeper. 

“satoru,” you place a hand on his chest and he grins widely.

“ah, ah. it’s santa.” he corrects you. “and santa wants his sugar tonight~”

the two of you fail to notice megumi’s equally surprised and horrified expression as he peeks his head in from the kitchen, the warm glass of milk in hand long forgotten.

[syoddeye]

the christmas party

ceo!price x reader / smut free / ~2.8k words

A very belated Christmas drabble thing. Definitely not inspired by real life events. 👀 Featuring a fem!Reader x Price, background Ghost x Soap, and Gaz, the incredi-boss. Might fuck around make this a series, we'll see! Maybe I'll clean it up and throw it on AO3, too.

CW: alcohol, substance abuse (mentioned) inappropriate comments from coworkers

You came to expect drama at the company Christmas party. It was as traditional as the optional White Elephant gift exchange, the hired group of carolers, and the ugly sweater competition.

Last year, a 'mystery' baggie of powder and a credit card belonging to the former Head of Sales was found in a bathroom stall. Two years ago, it was the unexpectedly raunchy dancing between an engineer and a project manager you swore hated each other. Three years ago, a division head went home with someone who was definitely not her spouse.

You'd seen a lot in your tenure. The good, the bad, the ugly, the hilariously mortifying.

Coming up on your fifth year with The 141 Group, you were a rarity. Most folks job-hopped. More power to them, no shame in gaining good experience after a year or two to leave for greener pastures. The fact you stuck around labeled you a 'veteran', a cheeky if not sensational label, though there were times you certainly felt like you'd seen war. Acquisitions. Rebrands. Reorgs. Yeesh.

But life at 141 suits you. You are an executive assistant, a good one. It helps that your direct supervisor and the VP of Finance, Kyle Garrick, a fellow 'vet', was an incredible boss. He lets you work from when you need to, doesn't micromanage, and treats you like a person, unlike other execs. He had faith in your ability to manage his calendar, prep materials, book travel - in short, you organized his work life. In return, whenever some new hire got too fresh with you, all it took was one teensy mention in a morning meeting, and by lunch, the offending party had only apologies for you. Most importantly, though, the job nets enough money to make rent and let you pursue your hobbies.

With years of Christmas parties under your belt, you were looking forward to tonight's low-grade yet cataclysmic event. Pre-gaming and primping at a fellow assistant's house, Jordan, you clasp the silver holly leaf pendant around your neck where it lies just above your modest cleavage. The dress code was simply 'Christmas Color', another tradition. Formal attire was expected, if not an unsaid requirement, which meant slipping into a gorgeous dark green dress you spied weeks ago in a boutique window. You thank yourself for earning that last pay bump to afford it because you look fantastic, in your humble opinion.

Lacing her leather Oxfords, Jordan gives a low whistle when you turn away from the mirror. "Like a big, sexy pine tree."

You smirk. "Thanks. Remind me why we both couldn't wear red tonight?"

"Because of the two of us, red is my color. Do I not look like some kind of holiday vampire?" She asks, standing with a sweeping gesture down at her deep, red velvet suit.  

"More bellboy, but-"

"Rude!"

The two of you lovingly bicker all the way out to the awaiting car. The 141 Group, ever mindful of its image, always reimbursed rideshares for its company parties. Given the amount of liquor that flowed at these events, it wasn't only generous but smart. Like the higher-ups needed a scandal. The car ferries you across town to the ritzy event space at a local art museum. Leaving your coats at the complimentary bag check, you enter the well-underway party.

The events team needs a raise, like yesterday. The sprawling space was completely done up. Several open bars, a champagne wall, a photo op with a to-scale Santa's Sleigh, and dining tables with place settings that probably rival a monarch. Silvery white birch trees enveloped in lights line the walls, with clusters of small fir trees fully decorated dotting the space. The dancefloor was already busy with a DJ fully dressed as Santa.

Four going on five years, and it was still quite the sight.

You gently elbow Jordan. "So. Cheesy themed cocktails first or canapes?" 

"Obviously drinks. I just saw one with an ornament in it!"

~~

Three hours in, it was a dead heat for Most Dramatic Event. Two separate calamities slowly built throughout the night.

At the nexus of the first, Chad from marketing was almost blacked out. After winning the ugly sweater with a true abomination of a sweater (working lights, a mini speaker, and an ungodly amount of sequins), he celebrated. A little hard. He bopped from open bar to open bar as the bartenders cut him off one by one. He was trying to convince a coworker to grab him another Mistletoe Martini, and it was progressively getting louder.

The second was from the rumor mill more than anything. Apparently, a developer named Scott brought the wrong gift for the exchange. As the story went, his wife used the same paper for an identically sized gift, one of a titillating nature, and now he was visibly paranoid that he nabbed the wrong one on the way out the door. The man stalked the pile of gifts as folks drew numbers.

Jordan bet on the first, and you bet on the second. From the corner, you watch, giggling behind a cup of Prancer's Punch.

The sound of your name drew your attention. Kyle, in a charcoal gray suit with a sleek snowflake tie bar and green tie, approaches with a Tiny Tim Collins in hand. Though you waved hello earlier in the night, he spent most of the evening in the company of who you deemed his 'buddies' - Johnny MacTavish, VP of Technology and Jordan's boss, and Simon Riley, the Chief Security Officer. You learned in your first month to leave the trio to it. 

"Having fun, are we?" Kyle grins and turns to observe the twin events. 

"I love this party. Every year, delivers just like Santa," Jordan gleefully said.

"Someone should stop them," You add, knowing nobody would. At least not Kyle.

And as if on cue, the man chuckles. "Not my circus, not my clowns."

The three of you chat, swapping bits of office gossip collected through the night. Not the most appropriate, but not the worst social crime, surely. You're the right amount of tipsy: warm and relaxed but solid.

The wager came up naturally.

"What do you want if you win, my pine tree?"

"Hmm. It's gotta be something outrageous but not a fireable offense. Hmm. Maybe I'll have you sing on a video call, pretend you thought you were on mute or something."

"...That's boring."   

"Do I want to know?" Kyle asks, sipping his drink. 

"We have a bet on who's gonna be this year's drama - Chad or Scott." You explain.

"Maybe I ought to get back…" Your boss said with a laugh. "Better not witness to whatever you two plan." 

"Might be for the best. Night, Kyle," You accept the brief hug from the man, then poke a finger against his chest. "Listen, if I get one DM about work during the holiday, I'm switching your coffee to decaf."

Kyle claps a hand over his heart as if he's been shot. "Monstrous. Fine, have it your way, no work during Christmas…Now, behave yourself, both of you." 

Watching him retreat back to MacTavish and Riley (who look quite cozy - perhaps another piece of gossip?), Jordan nudges you. "If I was into guys, that's who I'd be into."

"You and like fifty other people here," As Kyle's assistant, you're more than his Girl Friday; you're also a professional gatekeeper. You could wallpaper your apartment with the amount of cringy notes you've stopped from reaching his desk. 

"Not your type, then?" 

You whip your head back to Jordan, utterly horrified. "No way. Not that Kyle isn't an absolute dreamboat; he's just not my dreamboat. Plus, at this point, it would be so, so weird."

Jordan laughs. "Y'know, even though we've been work besties for a year, I don't think we've ever discussed this. What is your type? As dudes are not my specialty, I have no clue."

Your type, huh? As if you don't know. Your type's been the same for as long as you can remember. Big and brawny, the kind of guy who could haul you around. Dark hair. Well-groomed, well-dressed, well-endow–You could still make it onto the naughty list. 

Using better and cleaner terms, you relay this information to Jordan. 

"Huh. A man's man. Whodathunk–oh! Oh shit, look who it is!" The other woman pats your arm and gestures with a nod.

Joining Kyle and his buddies, is none other than John Price - CEO of The 141 Group. Fashionably late (very fashionably late), yet another tradition. Adorned in a Santa red suit jacket and a matching red tie, he somehow makes the boring dress code dashing. Flanking him is a pair of bodyguards. He's just in time for the wager to come to a head. 

God, he looks good. 

As Kyle's assistant, you see John fairly regularly. Not that he sees you. No one above a certain pay grade sees assistants. You kind of just blend right on in. Not even Mr. Riley, whom you've been introduced to a dozen times by Kyle himself, recalls your name. When you tag along to meetings to take notes for the boss man, you assume you're on the same level as a lamp or plant. That doesn't mean you haven't ogled John Price before. Kind of hard to not to, what with his commanding presence. You're kind of ogling him right now.

"Wow, you really do have a type," Jordan hums with a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," You hiss into your drink and look away, just in time to see Chad from marketing lift a gift box-shaped ice sculpture and smash it onto the ground next to one of the open bars with a frustrated yell. The poor bartender and caterers jump back, and the music scratches to a halt. A thick silence fell over the party, impressive for a crowd of over a hundred, and your eyes flick to Mr. Price.

He glares daggers in Chad's direction, then nods at the taller of his bodyguards. Without hesitation, the man crosses the event space toward a petrified, drunk-crying Chad. As the guard hauls him away, your coworker, or former coworker, you assume, bursts into ugly tears and then disappears from sight. But your eyes are still on John, whose gaze turns to the DJ. The music starts again, as does the chatter. 

"Fuck yes," Jordan giddily whispers. 

"Well, shit."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"...Unfortunately, yes. Yes, I do," You sigh and down the rest of your drink. "Before you swing the axe, let me grab another punch."

"Hurry back, I've got my thinking cap on," Jordan impishly smirks. 

With a groan, you make your way to the nearest open bar. One far from Chad's little tantrum. Most folks are on the dance floor at this hour, leaving this particular bar quiet. Waiting in line behind other tipsy coworkers, a clearing throat behind you grabs your attention. 

"D'you have a recommendation?" A low, gravelly voice from all your best dreams asks. 

You turn, and the sweet Hallmark-worthy image that blossomed in your mind in the last two seconds promptly morphs into a nightmare. Not a running-for-your-life nightmare, but a you're-the-only-naked-person-in-class nightmare. Laughable, considering the topic of conversation not three minutes ago.

John Price stands tall behind you, arms crossed, testing the fabric of his red suit jacket. He smells like tobacco and something spicy, and his eyes are a shade of blue you hadn't noticed before. You never got this close. They narrow slightly, and you realize you haven't answered him.

"Prancer's Punch." The name sounds cornier aloud.

"Hmm. Brandy or rum?" He sounds unimpressed. Was he unimpressed?

You're quicker to answer this time. Except, you babble. "It's, uh, made with dark rum. It's delicious. I've had a few. The cranberry juice isn't too tart, compliments the sparkling wine and–It's good."

Santa, run me over with your reindeer.

Kyle would be humiliated to have heard all of that. You are humiliated for having said all of that.

To your surprise though, the corner of John's mouth hooks in a smirk, then he chuckles. "How many qualifies as 'a few'?" 

You, apparently committed to acting moronically, answer honestly. "Five." 

It gets you an actual laugh this time. His hand raises up to scritch at his cheek, flashing the band of a watch you're certain is worth more than your life, then juts his chin forward slightly. "You're up, miss."

"Oh, no, Mr. Price, I insist, please-" You start to sidestep to let him up in line, but his hand lowers immediately and stretches out to stop you. He doesn't touch you, but the hair of your arm stands up at the proximity. 

John smiles again, and his head tips toward you. "I insist. Join me, Miss…?"

"Mr. Price?" A voice suddenly interrupts. The taller bodyguard that removed Chad steps up and steals away Mr. Price's attention. "The problem's been dealt with. Regarding…"

You don't hear the rest of the conversation because you hurriedly ask for a punch and bolt back to Jordan. 

And Jordan saw everything. Your heart is racing, and you miss half of her teasing. 

"You made him laugh. Twice. I don't think I've ever seen him smile, let alone laugh." 

"Because I basically admitted to being drunk!"

"Calm down, you're not, you're solid," She reassures. "Besides. You saw that death glare at Chad. If he was upset, I reckon you'd be on the receiving end of one of those."

You groan and take a swig of punch. You hope you've had enough of the good stuff to burn away the memory of your embarrassing rambling. You look back to Jordan to say something and find your friend once again grinning devilishly at you.

"I just thought of what I want for my victory."

Any time, Santa. Put me out of my misery.

"What?"

"So…You know #AskPrice?" 

You know where this is going, and your eyeballs nearly bulge out of their sockets. "Jordan. Please. No. Do not make me post something stupid there." 

#AskPrice was the name of the open channel at work. Anyone across the company could post questions for Mr. Price to answer. More often than not, it was a venue for bootlickers and kiss-asses to rain praises and share bad proposals. Rarely was there a legitimate question or a good idea.

"Darling, of course not. I have something far funnier in mind," She started, and you swore you saw the flames of hell itself in her eyes. "You're going to direct message Mr. Price and ask what he wants for Christmas." 

Jaw, meet floor. "Absolutely not!"

Jordan laughs and hooks an arm around your neck, pulling you in. "Come on. It's harmless. Believe me, I considered making you send a selfie or asking if you're on the naughty or nice list."

"He could fire me!"

"For what? It's just a question! He always says we're welcome to DM him."

To be fair, Mr. Price did say that at the end of every company-wide call or in email announcements. He always harps on 'transparency' and 'open channels of communication', hence #AskPrice. To your knowledge, however, no one ever takes him up on that, at least at your level.

"Jordan…Mercy. Please."

"My sweet pine tree, you lost fair and square," She releases you and pats your shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I bet he gets a thousand messages a day. The notification will get lost in the noise."

It doesn't take much more prodding and encouragement from Jordan. Your phone ends up in your hand, and you tap into the chat app. Your hand shakes a little when you pull up John's username and open the message dialogue. 

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas?

Short and to the point. Jordan calls it 'boring', but you're already putting your neck on the line for a stupid wager. You're not risking anymore by dressing it up. Bet fulfilled, you press send, quickly turn notifications off, and shove your phone back into your little purse. Jordan rewards you with a squeeze to the shoulder.

"That was terrifying." You whine.

"That was a rush. Come on. Let's dance." 

~~

The next morning, when you're all but molded to your couch and housing takeaway, there's a little ping from your phone. It's the chime of the chat app.

"Kyle, for the love of everything, it's Sunday–"

You nearly drop your phone.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas? > World peace. > I'd settle for a drink, though.

[chocotonez]

skz putting their jacket over your lap

a/n: hiii, merry Christmas Eve if you celebrate!! I hope you all stay warm and enjoy your winter <3 also I forgot to put a read more on this one so sorry about that lolol

warnings/genre: gn language but y/n wears skirts, shorts and dresses and stuff, fluff, mentions of food and slight cat calling/harassment in seungmin’s (guys stare at u and whisper shit), discomfort in revealing clothing in hyunjin but that’s a really bad way of explaining it so see for yourself if u want

chan

-he always keeps his arm around you at public events, so when you were at a dinner party to celebrate the release of his new album he could feel how cold your skin was

-the dress was suggested to you by a stylist since you didn’t really know what to wear, but someone call irene cuz…

-you were constantly pulling down the skirt, and he could feel you shuffling like every five seconds because just breathing made the dress ride up

-“are you okay?? wanna go home?” And you, who’s literally eating the best fucking food you’ve ever tasted and having the time of ur life supporting ur boyfriend obviously shot down his offer

-so he took the coat he came in with because suddenly this takes place in the winter and puts it over your lap, before kissing the top of your head.

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay? We can leave any time.”

lee know

-lovingly already giving you shit about it before you even leave the house

-“baby, I love you and all and I think you look amazing but those shorts are gonna be uncomfortable as hell”

-“hoes never give up their clothes”

-he didn’t wanna be overbearing so he was like “whatever nerd let’s go”

-you guys were sitting outside and you were already pulling your shorts down, minho only noticing when you entered a grocery store because wtf why r they so cold

-gives you the “I told you so” look and forces u to take his jacket :>

“wrap it around your waist idiot, tell me if you want to go home.”

changbin

-ur probably gonna have to ask him bevause dawg doesn’t realize

-but when you do tell him he’s like !!! “Oh my god I’m so sorry, of course you can have my jacket!!” and he’s holding ur hand all reassuringly and apologizing n ur like “it’s ok I was literally just unbearably cold”

-feels so bad that he didn’t notice how u were literally freezing to death :,)

-bonus is you get to see him roll the sleeves up of his collared shirts + he gets to see you comfortably enjoying yourself so everyone wins

“I’m so sorry again!! Tell me if you need anything else, okay?”

hyunjin

-your supporting your boyfriend at a little formal party, and it was an indoor event at a familiar location that has never been uncomfortable ever in your life

-and then it was uncomfortable, you were just rubbing your legs and the feeling of leather on bare skin was weird and why the hell was it so cold??

-but you looked so hot in this dress ?? so what can someone do. you didn’t mind dressing up, but being in such a weird environment made you dream of the pajama pants you’d put on when you got home

-hyunjin takes his suit’s blazer off and casually slides it over to you without even blinking an eye, as you look up like ??? dawg I didn’t even say anything and he’s just like “I know~~”

-he just knows you very well and he also likes the trope of u wearing his suit jacket after a party, so he insists you keep it because u look so cute

“I can just tell when you’re uncomfortable! I’m a psychic, hehe >:]”

han

-“eeee i don’t like this dress, I feel weird in it”

-“omg babe no!! u look so good :>”

-“no my legs r just cold”

-feels like a superhero and the coolest boyfriend ever to put his coat over your lap, he’s so proud of himself :,)

-he feels like he’s the protag of some romance drama, n he loves it!! and you’re no longer freezing ur ass off so thank goodness

-pretends to forget his coat so he can see you wear it on the way home or something like that

“hehehe, you look cute! do you need anything else? aren’t I just the best?”

felix

-idk he’d probably forget a jacket too so you’d both be awkwardly freezing at a restaurant so we’re gonna put you in an award ceremony

-you were his +1! so you dressed up extra nice for the evening, and you sat next to him as winners came up with their thank you speeches

-I think he’s very attentive to you if you guys go out together cuz he wants you to enjoy every moment with him!!

-so he notices v quickly when you use the table cloth as a blanket for your lap or shake your legs, and he hurriedly gives you his suit jacket so you don’t feel so uncomfortable

-kisses your cheek after, and when cameras catch this cute asf moment you two go trending on twt for 24 hours :,) you guys are just so cute together!!

“Does it feel better than the table cloth? I thought so, I can ask staff for something more accommodating, just let me know <3”

seungmin

-you guys are taking the train home after a day out, and you’re just scrolling on your phone before he leans over

-“the guys across from us are looking at you, do you wanna move?”

-you decide to just stay as the only free seats were reserved for others who needed it more, so you just say like 180 degrees away from them

-you could hear them whispering, and you subconsciously pulled your shorts down, not even knowing if that’s what the problem was

-you tried to ignore the gawking before you saw a grey hoodie fly over your lap, seungmin gently holding your waist to turn you back forward and giving the guys across from you the most uncomfortable eye contact until they stop

“Weirdos. Don’t feel insecure or anything by them, probably just never seen someone as hot as you before…”

jeongin

-trips over his two feet to get to you

-you guys planned for lunch at a cafe, and while you were waiting for him you texted “omg this skirt is so uncomfortable lolol” and next thing you know someone’s sprinting at you full force while holding their jacket

-it’s your loving boyfriend who broke into a sprint the second he read your text

-“h-here, put this over your lap if you want” “how far did you run??” “bro just take it I beg”

-you can’t help but laugh because he’s so out of breath and didn’t even mind the eyes staring at him because he was just running in a panicked frenzy

-boyfriend mode: activated

“I’m not a simp, shut up. Just want you to feel comfortable you loser. (lovingly)

[donnerpartyofone]

times they wouldn't let me just be a regular person (randomly selected)

My friend and I visited my stepmother, who I dearly love, but she is very much from a world of Wealth and Ambition and she doesn't totally "get" anything else. Friend and I had recently put together a little zine just for fun--something that would barely qualify in the zine world, it was just office paper and staples and scans of crude jokey drawings--and when we talked about how much fun we had with it, my stepmother insisted that we have a book launch party with wine and cheese. A bunch of her fancy friends were there, just looking at us. I could tell she thought she was being encouraging, and I could also tell that she thought I wouldn't know that it wasn't normal to have a formal launch event with canapes for something I printed out and stapled at work. Friend and I were in our mid- and late-30s. I absolutely could not risk acting offended, but it was pretty humiliating.

I was living way out in a frankly dangerous neighborhood in a big empty apartment that I had leased so my boyfriend and I could start living together, only to have him break up with me after I moved in. Life was pretty hard in most respects. When my grandmother sent me a check for Christmas it was a big relief; I called her and thanked her, telling her that I really needed help paying the rent that month and I was extremely grateful. A cold, weird silence followed. "Oh," she bit off. "I thought you would use it for something special." She made it really obvious that I had to apologize for using the Christmas present to do something boring and lame like avoiding homelessness, and I had to spend a few minutes trying to make her feel better about my disrespectful behavior. I don't think I totally succeeded.

[mellybabbles]

I apologize for blurring out of your... unsavory language, but I don't allow that on my blog. So, I'll be responding to this formally and with my perspective on this matter, and calmly. Something I believe you failed to do. Long post, discussing some disturbing topics to some.

I will start this out by saying simply that no, I did not 'do' anything to italic, and if anything I have tried to support him out of this terrible situation. He has expressed too that I did not do anything, and this is due to dire stress from school and abusive parents. People like you and others I will not say by name are only adding fuel to the fire of this situation. As far as I'm concerned and informed, Italic was put in this situation because of a string of events that caused this result.

I've been trying to the best of my ability to help without having to bring things like this onto my blog, which is a safe place and a positive blog. You have forced my hand to address this as to not spread misinformation. You have put myself and italic in a situation that is just... Not okay. Now that I've summarized that no, I did not attack Italic or anything, I'd like to address the other parts of this... statement. First, your language and wording should not be okay to send anyone, no matter the situation. You have forced myself into this situation on Christmas Day. Instead of spending time with my friends and family, I'm addressing this. That expresses how important that is to me. As for your expression of me not 'flinching at ****', that is because they are empty threats meant to get a reaction out of me. I do not react negatively or impulsively towards people who are trying to get something to either blackmail me with or laugh at. So, I simply do not give it to them. I'm concerned to whom gave you said screenshots, but otherwise your point was useless and contained lack of research. As for your many times of pointing out that I do not 'feel' in your terms, it is because I have a condition from past trauma and jobs that has severed my connection to a lot of emotions properly. I do feel. I do have sympathy. I am a human being. But think of it as emotions going through a static strainer. They show themselves but they don't change often. I don't laugh at this situation, I'm just upset that people like you don't look into the evidence and jump to conclusions. You've forced us into a situation that anybody should be spared from. Again, I feel things. You have not looked into me at all to jump to conclusions like that. Just because I don't let what people say to me online kill my mood and effect my mental health, doesn't meant I'm emotionless. Oh, and for the future, do watch your language. It's quite rude.

[bengiyo]

Between Us Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

And we're back! Last time, Win let down Team, who continues to be just the saddest boy; still, they're trying to progress. Waan and Tul continued to interact. Prince was shoved into the closet by his manager. Pharm continued to have the best smile as we passed the open house event.

I like that Team is kind of a dumb jock.

Team is so easily manipulated by food.

I'm glad Win is pushing Team to take his studies seriously. I'm also bothered by the amount of crumbs I just know are in this bed.

It's not a fair comparison, but I just came from watching The Muppets Christmas Carol, and am feeling how much worse the sound mixing and quality is here.

The forehead kiss is interesting, because it's the most sexually intimate they've been in either of their bedrooms yet.

Bee and Prince are adorable, even if I'm not entirely certain why they're here.

Gosh I love the Friend Trios in this show. Fluke and Samantha are clearly having a lot of fun returning to these characters.

The hemp rope bit was cute.

The dad was way out of line, and he did that in front of a guest? Uncouth.

Santa consistently gives solid performances, but why is his hair so fried in this scene?

The mom is correct to apologize.

You have no idea if he's dating? Sir, we just left the hemp rope scene. When will we hit the "be brave about it" scene?

Team must really be distracted if he had to be encouraged to eat a cookie.

I'm a little frustrated. One of you can correct me, but as far as I recall, Team is the one who turned down something formal with Win. So all this angst is trying my nerves.

Ah, this connects to the coffee scene in the mall from.UWMA.

They put a barn door on this cafe? That's not very secure.

I do like that we're watching this episode on Christmas Day.

Is this the same footage from UWMA, or did they reshoot? It feels like it's the same.

Win's key ring is Winnie the Pooh. I'm okay with this.

[pokeexehasstoppedworking]

Applin Of My Eye Ch8 Finally Feelings Known

(the last chapter was ch7 not Ch17 just to be clear. Apologies for the mix up.)

"Milo." He held up the formal official document to him. "This is an official league document from the Chairwoman."

Milo paused..before finally looking at his brother's disappointed frown. "Oh? What did it say?"

"We weren't picked to go."

Milo didn't miss the disappointed in his little brother's eyes and tone as he held up a letter with an official league symbol, Daisy baaed next to his feet. Milo blinked before abandoning the ornaments and turning to take the already opened letter from Felix. He opened it, quickly skimmed the inside of the envelope, and hummed with a small frown. 

"Oh. That's too bad, but we can't expect everyone to be picked to go. Some of the league have to stay behind to help take care of things here."

"Yeah. I know." Felix grumbled taking off his cap with a frown. "But I really wanted to go!...I guess the prince didn't like I was the first one who lost in the battle tower event."

"Hey. That's not true. You did an amazing job out there, and I know you made everyone in Turrffield proud of you." The cap was taken by Milo and plopped back on top of Felix's head as he blinked and Milo smiled. "I know I was really proud. And remember battled aren't all about winning. Winning is nice but battles are about building up strength and sharing life experiences with people and pokemon. The most important thing is to have fun. Even small experiences make it all worthwhile."

...Felix gave a small huff, but smiled and reached a hand to straighten his cap back on his head. "Yeah. I guess you're right. But still...I wanted to go really badly."

"Hm. Tell you what, work hard to catch up on school and if you're all caught up by next summer then we'll take a full vacation to the Pasio Region!"

Green eyes widened as Felix's mouth dropped open. "Wait. For real?!"

Milo nodded. "But you're gonna have to work hard. You have a lot of catching up to do with us taking time off for the gym challenge last year and the prince's visit. Think you can handle that?"

"OF COURSE I CAN!! YOU CAN COUNT ON ME! I'LL GET STARTED RIGHT NOW!!" Felix turned on his heels to leave but paused mid step as a thought crossed his mind and he slowly looked back at his brother. "Hey, Milo." He hummed. "When are you gonna tell that lady you like her?"

Immediately red EXPLODED across his face as Milo stumbled over his words. "F-F-Felix! I'm not-"

"She already knows about your feelings. And I know that you know that she already knows. And I know that you already confessed and OBVIOUSLY she likes you back! My wingman skills totally worked, and you're natural charm! So why not just go ahead and make it official already?"

Milo sputtered again  gesturing at nothing. "I-Its... complicated Felix! I mean...I know that she knows that I know but s-she also knows T-That I know I n-need time to think this over carefully and d-decide on what best works for me then Ill know and be sure to let her know. Y'know?"

Felix nodded. "Oh. I know. But just to let you know I already took the Liberty of inviting her over for Christmas dinner." He then turned back around. "I'm going to try to study and get a lot of that schoolwork done up. C'mon Daisy!"

Daisy let out a loud baa as Felix walked away and Milo was left red faced with a box of ornaments. "S-Shes coming over f-f-for Christmas d-d-dinner?" He gulped. "O-Oh sweet wooloo knitted sweaters."

Seems he wasn't lying. Milo had finished putting up the decorations and two weeks of regular chores and duties had passed, when it arrived. Christmas Eve. The happiest day of the year and one of the busiest. There was Christmas bonuses he had to mail the checks out to the many people working under him, last minute gift wrapping (he had just finished placing Felix's gifts under the tree), and shoveling snow from the pathways around Turrffield. And all of those things came AFTER he finished his regular chores as a famer taking care of his wooloo herd and land. Sigh. At least all he had to do now was cook Christmas dinner. Which was what he was doing that exact moment. The kitchen was filled with delicious smells as a few dishes were already ready to eat set up on the table while there was still others being slowly cooked either on the stove or oven. Milo hummed away as he stirred the stuffing on the stovetop. It should be done in another ten minutes. Green eyes looked up when small hooves clip clipped their way in and Daisy walked her way over towards the table with a hungry look in her eyes. 

"Oh no you don't. That's not for you." Daisy frowned and baaed at him. "I said no. You can't have that food, it's for Christmas dinner. Besides too much human food will make you sick." Daisy stomped her hoof. "Daisy, throwing a tantrum isn't going to make me give you anything. It's only making you look spoiled." She baaed again throwing herself on her side and he sighed.

"Milo, have you seen Daisy?," Felix's voice called from the other room.

"In here trying to steal our food again-"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!! He was interrupted by a knocking from the front door to which he turned his head to in question.

"I'll get it!," Felix called. Footsteps could be heard from the other room before the front door opened. "Oh hey! I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

"I'm not too late I hope," said a female voice that instantly made Milo freeze.

"Nah. I'm fact you're a bit early. Dinner's not even ready yet. Come on in." More footsteps and the door closed. "Milo! Y/n's here and she brought her pokemon! And presents!"

Milo looked up. Felix walked in with a familiar face behind him with a drizzlie and another wooloo. She smiled.

"Milo. Merry Christmas!" She held up a nicely wrapped gift in her hands. "Here. I brought you something."

Felix also had a gift in his hands looking it over before bringing it up to his ears and shaking it lightly. "I wonder what it is! Can't I just open it now?"

"Felix, you know you're not supposed to open them until the next day."

"C'mon Milo. It's just one present. Can't we just open one early? You can open yours too."

Milo looked at him then at your smiling face before sighing and nodding. "Alright but just one-"

RIP! Felix wasted no time ripping into the wrapping paper before excitedly throwing open the box and looking inside before grasping. Reaching inside he pulled out a plush wooloo a moment later but not just any wooloo, it was an exact plush of a brown shiny wooloo. It looked just like Daisy minus the collar. 

"Oh my Arceus! Look Daisy! It looks just like you!" Felix held out the plushie to Daisy who sat up, sniffed at it, before baaing. Felix held it up like it was the real thing with a wide smile. "It's perfect! Thank you so much!"

You chuckled and smiled. "I'm glad you like it." You then held up the other gift to Milo. "Here. This one's for you."

For him huh? This would be the second present he'd ever get from you for Christmas and that thought alone made his face go red. But not wanting to be rude, he turned from the stove and slowly held out his hands taking the gift box from you. The wrapping was pretty. Shiny white wrapping paper tied with a bright green bow. He took a moment to look it over before reaching up to tug the bow off. It fell off without much resistance and the paper tore away until he was able to see inside there, and his eyes widened at what he saw. A plush eldegoss sat there looking up at him. It was a perfect copy of his own pokemon. He stared at it for a moment before looking back up at you with a smile.

"This is absolutely adorable! Where did you get these?"

"There's an online store that sells plushies of Pokemon. These just happened to be some of the ones they had available and I knew you guys would love them." You then turned to the stove  where the smells were coming from. "And that smells delicious! What is it?"

He blinked. "Huh? Oh! That's the stuffing, and the ham in the oven should be almost done too. Why don't you have a seat and I'll get everything ready?"

"Sounds great!"

He was happy to serve you dinner with both himself and Felix, and it went all well. You all laughed and talked about things ranging from how Milo was restoring the geoglyh to how well Silver was doing since he evolved into an inteleon now to Felix's school progress. He did apologize for not finding time to get you a gift but you had waved him off saying the dinner was a gift enough and it was delicious. Time passed a bit and soon darkness crept across the snow covered outside turning the sparkling snow into a cold blanket of white.

"Oh. It's getting late. I'd better get home before it gets too dark." You said taking a glance at the window before standing up and smiling at Milo. "Thanks again for the food. It was really delicious and I had a great time."

"U-Um..Sure."...He slowly stood up too. "Here. I'll walk you home."

"You blinked. "Are you sure? It's getting pretty late and I don't want to be a bother."

"I-Its no bother at all!", He insisted red faced. "I'd love t-to. L-L-Let me just grab my coat."

"Oh. Well if you're sure with it."

He was quick to throw in his coat and after you bid Felix good bye, the both of you headed out with your Pokemon in tow. It was chilly out with the snow crunching under your feet, and it wasn't long until you both were standing in front of your home which was just down the past from his. With a smile you thanked him before turning to go towards your house but stopped when a hand gently grabbed yours.

"W-Wait!" Milo's face turned a much deeper red and he gulped deeper as she blinked at him. "I-I have something to say. Um...D-Do you remember when I said I needed time to think about w-w-what I wanted? B-Between us?" ...You slowly nodded and he gulped harder. "I-...I think I-... W-want to...be with you."

Silence.

....You smiled again. Red rushed to his face when you gently grabbed at his arm and pulled him towards you and for some reason he couldn't fathom he didn't stop you. Green eyes could only gaze at you and your perfect face. Your face lightly cupping your face just the right way. The frost that had caught onto your lashes twinkling in the lights like little stars orbiting your beautiful f/c eyes which was as reflective as mirrors and just as shiny. Your cheeks a beautiful shade not unlike a sweet rose. But green blue eyes gazed towards your lips. Curled up in a smile, and a pink not unlike a pecha berry and maybe just as sweet if he was honest. The farmer nearly ran into your body when you stopped in front of the house lights shining on you just the right way to give him the impression you were an angel. A sight he was hesitant to leave. Huh. And you were both closer than he remembered. Just a few inches from one another twinkling under the lights. And you blinked at the sudden closeness too. Face going a dim pink and a few chuckles from the moment escaping you. So it was just you two. Alone out here with nothing but each other for company. His mind felt completely blank and numb but in a good way, compelling him to reach his hands up and cup a cheek of yours something his rational brain wouldn't allow himself to do. Inches away now. You didn't move away.

He stared at the woman in front of him, this silly silly woman with the beautifully flowing hair and the cute smile. If he was watching this as an outsider, he would've laughed at how they were literally just strangers less than a while ago, but right now it didn't seem any of that or anything else mattered. Not even the topic they had been discussing just a few seconds ago. The wind blew some more rustling the snowflakes and driving the intoxicating sweet scents from the banquet around them more. And blowing some of that pretty hair into his face, which he immediately reached to pull away and Milo made no move to stop him from doing that. Or removing the hand that now cupped his cheek. Maybe it really was a mutual madness they both shared or some form of chaos in their lives, but right now....With them being so close...And so vulnerable. It was only natural of course-.. It's what soulmates do-.. Of course they would since-...

They kissed.

[ghostsxagain]

@thefvrious asked: rhodes/sullivan for the ship meme

Who would be the big spoon/little spoon? They switch it up but usually Rhodes is lil spoon Who would wake up first? Sullivan Do they have nicknames for each other? Surprisingly yes, yes they do. aside from the easy ones derived from their names they came up with some personalized ones too How do they apologize after an argument? Okay so hear me out. I don't see them arguing in a typical sense cause of how completely obsessed with each other they are. Tempers can flare, yeah, but I don't think they really need to apologize to each other often? They just kind of move past it (Sullivan seems more likely to actually mumble out an 'I'm sorry' while cuddling while Rhodes just does something nice) What would they be like as parents? Chaotic but also loving. I think it would be hard for them both to initially connect to a child but once they did? Game over. That kid is so protected and well cared for. See Sullivan's brother as an example Who is more romantic? They both have their own ways of romance but Rhodes more so What sort of gifts do they get for each other? Weird shit lol. Weapons, trophies from victims... traditional gifts are very hard for Sullivan since he never really got to experience that growing up? He tries to get the occasional gift for Rhodes though, to impress him. Rhodes on the other hand DID grow up with money so he likes to make up for all of Sully's crappy birthdays with some fancy shit Who gets jealous easiest? They are absolutely both the jealous type but Sullivan is more unhinged about it Who gets more excited for events e.g.. Birthdays, Christmas? Rhodes? Who is the most adventurous? Rhodes Who is the most protective? Sullivan What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts? I don't think they would have been. There's no chance in HELL that Rhodes' parents would have let him hang out with a kid like Sullivan lolololol. BUT IN AN AU they would have started off unsure of the other since they're so different. But once they realized "oh he's like me!" they would have bonded and explored their darker natures together Who uses all the hot water? Rhodes lol Who would accidentally set the kitchen on fire whilst cooking?  Rhodes. Something tells me with the way he was raised he doesn't really know how to cook? I can picture Sullivan taking on more of those kinds of duties around the house Who initiates sexy times the most? Oh both of them. They're h*rny bastards lol Who is more dominant? This one I'm not sure. My first impulse was to say Sullivan but given Rhodes' personality type I could see it going either way What would they do if the other one was hurt? Given their extra curricular activities, I'm sure shit goes wrong and they get hurt often enough. And two different things happen: the carnage would get their gears going then once fun was had they would switch into caretaker mode and be very doting. Guarantee the injured one would wave the other off, claiming he's fine, but secretly loving the attention Who gives nose/forehead kisses? Both. They're very touchy & affectionate. Gentler kisses like these are more likely to occur in private though What their biggest fight was/will be about: Again, I dont think they fight in a conventional sense. They might get genuinely upset with each other over a sloppy mistake with a victim. Or something about Raf. Otherwise I just can't picture it

BONUS #1: Song to sum them up? Offhand I do not have one but I will update this post with a song once I think of one BONUS #2: A head canon? Nothing is off the table for them to talk about. Like, Sully has shared countless stories about his dad, and Rhodes just listens, for example. There is no coddling or trying to make the other feel better. They don't get emotional, it's all very matter of fact. But they truly know everything about each other

BOTTOM LINE: Do I ship it? We haven't even formally written for them yet and I am completely in love. YES I SHIP IT. They're made for each other (quite literally)

[queer-triple-a]

A Parting Party

Introduction

Hello, Lovelies!

Happy Holidays to those who celebrate! A lot of this story takes place around Christmas so I figured now was the perfect time of year to share it with you. I intended to share it on Saturday, but life got busy and it slipped my mind.

This is another translated story. It was put together into a box and kept in someone’s basement until their descendent turned it over to an archival museum many years later. 

These documents were particularly fun to find because there are just so many documents. Correspondence and mementos and journal pages. All of it is in Spanish (which I cannot read) but has been translated by someone at the institution mentioned before. A big thank you to them for making this story more accessible. Translations are between each document image this time. 

I hope you enjoy!

Content Warnings: 

Joining the Military for Colonialism

Drinking

Documents

[Document 1: A Letter from Rafael to Felix and Ana]

Dearest Felix and Ana, 

I write to invite you to spend your Christmas in Burona. The man who owns the pub at which I work has informed me we shall be closed that day. I asked for and obtained his permission to use this space to host my dearest friends. The evening shall be spent in merriment between the five of us. Paula and Daniel shall bring baby Clara as well so you may see her again. She has grown so big it will amaze you. I trust in the next month she shall grow even more. You must come to see us at Christmas. Four months is too long to spend without seeing you. 

Though we used to gather in Burona or at your home in Guadanca several times a year these gatherings have grown infrequent. I am ashamed to say that it will be my fault that this meeting shall be our final gathering for some time. 

I have decided to join the army. Shortly after we enter the new year, I will begin serving our country. I do not know for how long I will be away. I do not know if I shall return to you at all, though I will do my best to make it home. I recognize that this is important news. I apologize that it could not be given in person, however, I wanted to warn you that you may be joyous when you see me. Let us feel our sadness now that we may be happy tomorrow. 

I do not wish to leave in somber, I wish to leave with celebration. We have made each other’s lives more rich in love. Let us celebrate that together as we exchange holiday gifts. 

Your Friend,  Rafael

[Document 2: A Letter from Rafael to Daniela, Paula, and Clara]

Rafael  Burona, Spain November 15, 1895

My Loves, Daniel, Paula, and baby Clara

I trust you have not forgotten my Christmas plans, as I have spoken to you about nothing else for several days. Let this letter serve as a formal invitation to join myself, Felix, and Ana at the pub for holiday celebrations. 

Yours,  Rafael

[Document 3: A Letter from Daniel to Rafael]

Daniel Burona, Spain November 16, 1895

Rafael, 

Paula has insisted both of us send you responses to affirm our attendance at your holiday party. I am shocked she does not write one for Clara as well. I do not pretend to understand the reason for these letters. I share a bed with one or both of you each night. Why can this not be said aloud between us?

Alas, at Paula’s request I send you this. We shall attend your Christmas party. Please let us know when Felix and Ana respond as well. I am excited to see them. 

Best,  Daniel

[Document 4: A Letter from Paula to Rafael]

Paula Burona, Spain November 16, 1895

My other heart, Rafael, 

Thank you for setting this up my love! I cannot wait to be reunited with everyone I hold dear. Well, I suppose that is unfair to my family. I believe they shall be there, but merely in spirit. Though now that I consider the events which usually transpire when I am reunited with Ana I realize I ought not to wish for my late mother’s presence when I see her again. 

Oh, Rafael, I shall hold you in a special place in my heart for as long as I live. I do not know what I shall do when you are away. I am not just sad that you will be away from me, but frightened by the grave nature of your duty. I trust Daniel feels much the same as I do, though he will likely not write to you about his feelings. 

It saddens me that you will miss such exciting moments in the life of our Clara. She is a healthy baby and will grow in strength and ability while you are away. I hope you will return before she is old enough to remember your absence. As you well know, it is one of my heart's deepest desires for you to be a meaningful part of her life. You must return home swiftly and well, if not for Daniel or for myself then for Clara. You must. 

I shall see you at Christmas, and every day before. 

With love,  Paula

[Document 5: A Letter from Felix to Rafael]

Felix Guadanca, Spain November 20, 1895

Rafael, 

I thank you sincerely for the invitation. Ana became so excited at the thought of seeing you all again (especially Paula who she misses most deeply) that she scarcely let me finish reading the letter aloud to her. We are saddened to hear you will leave in the new year, and we fear for your fate abroad. We care for you. Please do whatever you can to keep yourself safe despite this new journey you must embark upon.

We will miss you dearly, but we will attempt to mask this with the excitement of our holiday celebrations. This message shall serve as our acceptance of your invitation. 

Felix of Guadanca

[Document 6: A Letter from Ana (written by Felix) to Rafael] 

Ana, through Felix Guadanca, Spain November 28, 1895

Dear Paula, 

Ana wanted to send you a message. I have written what she wishes to say to you: 

I miss you. It has been four months since I saw you last. I have grown with child since then. I was not sure how to tell you, but I want you to know before we see each other in person. We suspect the baby will arrive early in the new year. I cannot wait to tell you more.  I miss you. I do not know what other words to say. Felix says I should find a better way to say this. He says I am repeating myself. It is simple though. I miss you. 

I cannot wait to see you. Please say it is Rafael’s plan to let us stay at the home you three share. Felix and I can spend an evening at a hostel, but I would much rather spend the night in your arms. Writing this has made Felix blush. I do not think he likes to write about himself. He is blushing again. I should write to you more often. It is fun to watch my husband blush. 

I hope this letter finds you, Daniel, Rafael, and Clara in good health. Felix has shown me how you write her name. It is beautiful. I cannot wait to see her. I hope my child is also a girl so that they may grow together. I can feel them kick within me some days. I trust that by our Christmas gathering they will be strong enough to be felt by your hands. 

I blushed at the thought of your hands upon my stomach. Felix insists on writing this down since I embarrass him. 

I miss you. I wait with little patience to see you at Christmas. 

Always yours,  Ana

[Document 7: A Letter from Paula to Ana]

Paula Burona, Spain December 5, 1895

My Ana,

I hope this letter finds you and yours well. I am overjoyed to hear of your pregnancy! My Ana! No matter what child you have, there is no doubt in my heart they will be friends with my Clara. You must send another letter to tell me how you’ve been. Though I suspect the details of that may not be appropriate for the ears of a man. Since Felix must read you your letters, I shall wait to let you tell me in person. 

Oh Ana, my Ana! I miss you too! Of course, you shall spend the night at my home when you travel from Guadanca. To spend money on a hostel when you have three close friends who live within the town is absurd. You shall room with us. There are two beds between the five of us. Well, I suppose with Clara there are six of us, but she has her own cot so I am not concerned with the space she shall take up at night. You should be prepared to hear her cries at night. She is not yet settled to sleep through the night. I suppose this will be good practice for yourself and Felix. 

Rafael is so excited to see you again. Does he know of your pregnancy? Perhaps if he did he would not rush so soon after the new year to enlist in the army and begin his service. It is selfish of me to say this, but I wish he would not leave. I trust the army needs him, but I feel I need him more. There are many men who can fight, but only two men I love as dearly as I love him and Daniel. 

I know I should give thanks for that which I have and be proud of Rafael’s decision, but I am merely human. I am grateful for what I have, but this does not take away the pain and the fear of losing him. He does not like me to speak of this pain to him or Daniel. He thinks I will speak into existence the things which I fear. I do not hold such superstitions, and I know you do not either. 

I shall save my worries and my pain for now. I hope to find time to commiserate with you when you arrive. I miss you, Ana. I shall see you soon. 

With Love,  Paula

[Document 8a: A Recipe for Tortilla de Patatas]

Tortilla de Patatas Potatoes, onion, eggs. Put sliced potatoes in olive oil. Use medium heat. Sliced onions into separate pan with olive oil until caramelized. Beat room temperature eggs. Put onions with eggs. Drain potatoes. When cooled add into other bowl. No hot potatoes with eggs. Salt. When cooled pour into pan. Cook 6-8 minutes then flip onto plate. Put back in pan. After 6-8 minutes flip out. Wait. Slice. Enjoy. 

[Document 8b: A Recipe for Habas con Jamon]

Habas Con Jamon Broad beans, Diced ham, garlic clove, half a shallot, 3 bay leaves, Chopped parsley. Cook then peel broad beans. Peel and chop garlic and shallot. Pour olive oil into pan. Add garlic, shallots, bay leaves, and ham. Season. Fry garlic for five minutes. Add broad beans and parsley. Stir and cook 5 more minutes. Put on plate. Serve Warm. 

[Document 9: A Reciept from a Local Grocer]

2 garlic cloves         1

1 ham           1.5

24 eggs            0.6

1 onion            0.4

60 grams broad beans    0.9

1 bunch of parsley       0.3

1 chalet          0.9

8 bay leaves       2.1

8 potatoes          1.2

               8.9

[Document 10: An Advertisement for a Kodak Camera]

New Kodak Cameras. “You press the button, we do the rest.”  (or you can do it yourself.) Seven New Styles and Sizes all Loaded with Transparent Films.  For sale by Photo. Stock Dealers, Send for Catalogue. The Eastman Company, Rochester, N. Y.

[Document 11: A Reciept for a Kodak Camera]

Ferretería de la Familia

Cámara Fotográfia “Kodak” 

              200

[Document 12: A Letter from Rafael to Felix and Ana]

Rafael Burona, Spain December 10, 1895

Dear Felix and Ana

I am excited to write that I have secured a surprise for our group. When you come for our Christmas celebration, please bring along your Sunday best. Paula has advised me to tell Anna she could wear one of her dresses if none of Ana’s fit anymore. While I am speaking of that topic, congratulations to the pair of you! I cannot wait to drink to your continued good health and that of the baby!

Best,  Rafael

[Document 13: A Todo List written by Daniel]

12-24-1895 To Do

purchase 2 new horseshoes for the lord’s horses

purchase eggs, onions, ham, broad beans, garlic, shallot, bay leaves, parsley, and potatoes for dinner tomorrow

Black sewing thread and green embroidery thread

pick up horse feed 

pick up Felix and Ana from train station

[Document 14: A Sign which says the Pub is Closed]

PUB CLOSED FOR CHRISTMAS

[Document 15: A Letter from the King to Rafael]

From His Royal Highness King Alfonso VIII

Thank you for volunteering your services to the royal army. You should report to Madrid for transportation to training on January 22nd.

With gratitude, 

His Royal Highness King King Alfonso VIII

[Document 16: A Journal Entry Written by Rafael, Daniel, Paula, and Felix]

An Archival Note: We have tried to determine in the translation whose handwriting we believe each section is written in. This will be noted in <This style> at the start of a section

<Rafael> I am only a little drunk. I am at the Christmas party. I will never forget this, but also I might have another drink. I need to make sure this is not forgotten, so I’m writing down everyone's favorite part of the night.  Felix doesn’t want to answer yet. He is thinking.  Paula says her favorite part is- Oh that’s so cute. Her favorite thing is that Ana’s baby is kicking! Clara is also kicking right now, but she’s in Daniel’s arms so Paula can’t feel it.  I remember when I felt Clara kicking when Paula was pregnant. I think I got drunk that night as well cause I was happy. I think I probably cried. Maybe I will cry tonight. The night is young.  Daniel tells me the night is not young. Oh right, his favorite part of tonight is having more people to change Clara’s nappies. This is not true. He is happy to see Felix and Ana.  Haha he just read my writing and says  <Daniel>  My favorite part of this Christmas is the baby duties being spread between more people. I have not cleaned one diaper today. <Rafael> He is rude. I just stuck my tongue out at him. He called me a child. That is also rude.  Ana has a favorite thing. Well of course she does, but she told it to me. Ana says her favorite part of this weekend is talking to Paula which does make sense. I get to talk to Paula all the time, and it is usually one of my favorite things, and Ana also loves Paula, so it makes sense talking to Paula is one of her favorite things.  They talked alone for several hours this afternoon. I don’t know what it was about and they kept saying men weren’t allowed. They only let Daniel in because he brought in Clara for her feeding. She is a hungry baby. I’m glad.  Okay Felix has said he is ready but wants to write it down <Felix> My favorite part of this weekend is seeing the joy of my friends, who I now truly consider my family <Rafael> Okay, he has walked away and is not looking. When he was writing, I think he had tears in his eyes. He has had them there every time he looks at me. I think he is thinking about the fact that I am leaving. I am glad he has not said anything. It would upset the women and Daniel. I do not want people to be upset. I do not want to be the reason they are upset. I wish I did not feel like I had to leave to serve my country, but I have been called to do so.  Good news - just as I was about to cry over this, Paula shouted at me that her favorite part of tonight is the food. Haha, she is mad that I wrote this down. She is coming over to - <Paula> My favorite part of tonight is Ana And my husbands and my baby And Felix I love him too just not like I love the rest of them <Rafael> Ana has called Paula away. I ought to correct the record I am not the husband of Paula. I wish I were if only so she could receive my pension should I- well let me not think of that. Not tonight.  I shall rejoin the merriment now, and have another drink.

[Document 17: A Letter from Ana (Written by Felix) To Rafael]

Ana, through Felix Guadanca, Spain January 4, 1896

Dear Rafael, 

Do not let the handwriting fool you. Felix is writing what I tell him to again. I insist you remain in Spain until after I have the baby. You must. You must not leave until you can meet the baby. We shall write to you once it is born and you can come see. 

Yours,  Ana

[Document 18: A Letter from Felix to Rafael]

Felix Guadanca, Spain January 4, 1896

Dear Rafael, 

This is truly Felix now. I want to write to repeat the request Ana has made. Her wish comes from both of us. You should know she thinks quite frequently of you. I know she speaks of you nearly every day. She loves you as a brother, Rafael. As do I. Christmas has reminded us of the joy you bring to our lives and has in ways brought more pain. We were reminded of what it is to love you and of what it will mean to lose you. 

Please visit, and bring Paula if you do. Ana would like to see Paula. 

Best,  Felix of Guadanca

[Document 19: A Letter from Felix to Rafael]

Felix Guadanca, Spain January 20, 1896

Dear Rafael, 

I pray this news arrives to you before you leave. I write you this letter as a new father. Ana had the baby several hours ago. We have named her Isabel. 

I know you plan to leave soon for the army. Please come here first. Please say you have the time to visit us and meet Isabel before you leave. You need not remain for long. It is but a day's journey here and a day's journey back. 

I intend to tip the postal carrier so that this letter may reach you with great speeds.

Hurry,  Felix of Guadanca

[Document 20: A List by Daniel]

Months since you’ve been here: 24 tallies

Times Clara has said your name: 23

Clara’s achievements while you were gone: 

learning to crawl 

first steps

first word

first horse ride (with me, not solo)

Your favorite horse has gone through 81 horse shoes

We went to your pub 13 times while you were gone

We went to Guadanca to visit Felix, Ana, and Isabel 10 times

[Document 21-31: Letters from Paula]

I am providing a brief overview of these letters instead of a transcript or images. There are 10 letters that were in this collection. They were all addressed to Rafael from Paula during the time when he was serving in the Army for Spain. I’m not posting these letters because they deal with explicit material. In addition to trying to keep myself at a pg-13 rating in the stories I share here, I also feel that these add very little to their story as we see it. 

The only thing of note that I found in skimming these files myself, is that Paula tells Rafael she is pregnant in one of the final letters. 

[Document 32: A Letter from Rafael to Paula, Daniel, and Clara]

Rafael  Cuba October 27, 1897

Paula, Daniel, and Clara, 

I shall be home on March 15th, 1898. I have done my duty to my country and can now return to you my loves. Please inform Ana and Felix. I am allowed very few stamps. I hope this letter finds you well and quickly.

When I arrive please know, I have plans for both of you. 

All my love,  Rafael

[Document 33: A Letter from Paula to Ana and Felix]

Paula Burona, Spain February 5, 1898

Ana and Felix

Come to Burona as soon as you can, Rafael is coming home tomorrow! He will remain home! 

I apologize for the short notice. His letter was lost in the mail and took three months to arrive. I hope you can come. 

Love Paula

[Documents 34-37: Photographs]

According to the archive I found these documents in there were 4 photos in the bottom. The images were not yet uploaded, but they have catalogued the descriptions which are below:

A photo taken within a bar which has 5 adults and one baby. On the back of the photo it is labled “Navidad 1890” 

A photo taken within a home where a man is holding a newborn. He is smiling at her. On the back of the photo it is labled “Conociendo a Isabel antes de la guerra” Which translates to English as “Meeting Isabel before the war”. 

A photo taken within a home which has 3 adults and one young child. On the back of the photo it is labled “Volver a Casa”

A photo taken within a bar which has 5 adults and two toddlers. On the back of the photo it is labled “Mi familia”

I will keep an eye out, and if these photos are ever uploaded I’ll post them! 

[Document 38: A Letter from Rafael to Felix and Ana]

Rafael Burona, Spain March 14, 1898

Dear Felix and Ana, 

I am collecting items and memorabilia which have to do with our Christmas party and my time in service. I intend to keep these in a special box which was purchased by Daniel as a present for my return. I would greatly appreciate any letters or notes you have about that period of time. The photos on the wall do me well to remember you, but it is your words that I long to lock away. I shall pull them out on dark days and remind myself of our friendship and our love. 

With love,  Rafael

Outroduction

I hope this holiday story warmed your heart as much as it warmed mine. 

An early shoutout to my friend Chitra. She found the story I’m going to share with you next week. She’s the only person in the world who enjoys doing this research with me. 

The first part of the next story should be out on Saturday, I’ll try to be less late this time. 

Happy Holidays to those who celebrate!-098

Credits and Authors Notes

link to original tortilla patatas recipe  

link to original habas con jamon recipe

Mars Note on Translations

Full disclosure, I changed the text of the last letter after making the image so the translation no longer matches. Please forgive me, the text below the image is what is canon.

[beardedhandstoadshark]

What are your OCs' holiday plans?

This one’s long but I‘m NOT apologizing >:3

Happy Halloween and Welcome to Winter Solstice, a 7-day holiday that starts at discount-Christmas-minus-the-coke branding and ends with discount-Silvester aka the actual solstice at the end of the year. Holiday lore exists but isn’t important rn so-

As every year, Yel‘s got a job to do. You‘d think people would learn after a while to not buy presents that need to be shipped up a mountain 3 days before the fest, but nope! Aside from that, stroll through the Christmas solstice markets, visit parents, meticulously plan presents, bake lots of comfy food, wear ugly sweaters unironically, all of these combined, lecture everyone on fireworks safety like every year and get inevitably disappointed 80% didn’t listen and the day after solstice will be filled with shipping health potions, lawsuits, and worrying about the local wildlife.

Meanwhile Mage has holiday shopping fevers to bank on and a cozy shop that’ll protect from the dreaded cold. Until the day itself arrives, homepal ain’t leaving the house any time soon (except to decorate the whole place with fairy lights that customers can buy for a totally reasonable price alongside fireworks.)

Deniz n Red got pretty much the same plans. Visit some markets, eat all the food, enjoy the vibes for a while, and then travel for a bit. Deniz back to his home, while Red visits some of the other places she’s been to back during her adventuring.

And then Violet is kinda doing everything. Girl‘s finally able to experience it all from up close and on her own accord instead of being forced to whatever formal events up high a castle, so she’ll take that chance- the markets, the shopping, sight seeing, checking out holiday event stuffs, bake stuff, try to cook stuff, go wild on the decorations, everything there is minus the family part.

While day 1 and 7 are the "main“ holiday…days, Deniz, Red, and Mage all only really celebrate day 7, the actual Winter Solstice. Yel and Violet do both!

Though while everyone minus Yel is still around for not-Chistmas, it leads to her being alone during Solstice. And the town celebration is great! It’s fun, and comfy, and warmer than the cold marble floors could ever be! Yet after the last rockets have flown, it’s a bit…quiet. Everyone else is off to visit someone, but she kinda can’t anymore. Well… except a certain merchant who she knows isn’t gonna sleep before 4am, so.

Despite the underlying negative tension that tends to rise between the two when no one else is around to distract them, Violet goes over there. And while very much awkward at first, they manage to chill, talk, do whatever to keep each other company until it really gets too late. Its…nice. And actually turns into a yearly thing- Mage gets dragged outside by Violet to properly celebrate solstice at the square instead of looking from afar at home, and in turn Violet chills at said home for a while once the fireworks start dying down to hang out.

…and then the very next day they go back to their usual Spiel of more or less "I hate you for being a walking reminder of all my shortcomings so stop being cool to hang out with pls “. Yea

[zoecwriting00]

Short piece of prose titled, “The Old Man’s Clock”

“I must admit, my boy,” Eustachius murmured, gripping the handle of his teacup with surprising force for someone of his age, “I hadn’t quite expected such a tale at this hour of the morning.”

I stared at the old man in disbelief, feeling conned for thinking I’d done the right thing by having come directly to the professor in the misplaced belief that he of all people might understand. Yet, as he placed his cup back in its saucer with a precision I could only guess had been refined by decades of such meetings over tea, I realised that this discussion was over and he’d hear no more of the story he was clearly implying I’d fabricated.

“But Professor-” I began, only feeling the more I spoke, the more I was discrediting myself and sounding like a petulant child.

“No, Mr Wainwright.” Leaning in across his desk, he braced my rapidly gesticulating arm; his words carried notes of aniseed and tobacco.

“I think whatever you saw was simply as you feared it was at the start of the story: a figment of your imagination. Now there is no denying, that you are an intelligent and competent young man, and I can see you’re in a considerable state of disorder unlike any I’ve seen you in before, so I shan’t do you the disservice of insinuating that you’re under the influence of anything beyond an overactive mind.

“I care an awful lot about my students, and that doesn’t exclude you by any means, so I don’t wish you to feel that I’m brushing off your distress as a triviality. So whilst I do think, yes it sounds to me like you did see something in those grounds, I myself can’t find it having been caused by anything more than poor weather conditions and a trick of the mind.

“It’s nearing the end of term, we are all anticipating the Christmas break and are as tired as a rabbit on heat.” He paused, removed his hand from my arm, and crinkled his nose at the analogy, muttering a swift apology for it under his breath. Whether it was meant for me or himself, I couldn’t tell.

“My door is open to you, as is the university’s student support, my boy. If you wish me to make a formal record of the conversation we’ve had so that I may pass it to them?” He offered tentatively, voice curling reluctantly around his sentence into a question he’d rather not have to form.

I tutted and waved my hand in dismissal; whilst I could no longer be sure of the events of this morning, I knew I still had enough of my faculties in order that such an offer wasn’t necessary.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Professor, but I think I shall let this matter rest.”

A complete lie.

“Mr Wainwright” Eustachius said, thick eyebrows knotting together, “I appreciate you feel you could confide in me, and if the matter troubles you again, please do understand that I shan’t turn you away if my company or conversation can provide you any solace.” He cleared his throat in a way which respectfully said he was satisfied that this topic was well and truly put to bed and that I should be on my way.

“Thank you.” Was all I could manage as I slid my teacup back toward him, shaking slightly still, stealing a final moment to take in the atmosphere of his roasting book filled study which so readily soothed my nerves; I eased my chair out from underneath myself.

I made to comment upon his mantelpiece clock marking five in the morning, running nearly three hours behind, but the old man had already nodded his acceptance of my gratitude and had returned to the stack of papers by his side, glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose as if they might tip off.

Shrugging my coat on and preparing to enter the old familiar sting of an English winter morning, he caught me off guard, “Edward.”

I startled slightly at my name, turning like a sheepish child at the sound of it spoken so earnestly.

“Please, take care of yourself.”

I knew the professor well enough to know nothing subversive lay beneath the surface of those words, but after all we had discussed I found I could offer no reassurance.

I smiled weakly, and retreated to the cold once more

[anaiswriterr]

last christmas

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Rating: T

Last Christmas by Wham!

↷ SYNOPSIS: Five fucking years of a relationship down the drain when Shoto decided to call it quits, leaving you colder than the ice he produced. Last Christmas left you underneath the mistletoe with a bottle of eggnog staring off into space as others partied with their significant others for Christmas. But what happens when next Christmas you no longer are as cold as ice and is under the arm of another pro hero? Can Shoto get you back?

- mha december special part three -

•

•

•

•

It’s the silence between the two of you that tells you, it’s truly over.

The relationship has finally crumbled into nothing but empty promises, and lost memories that’ll never be saved.

“So that’s it, five years and we’re done?” You mumble, biting back your bottom lip stopping it from quivering. His response is just a simple nod, his hands pressed hard into the back pockets of his jeans. You search his eyes, for something that tells you to fight back. But his mumbled, “I’m sorry.” Is all it takes for you to flush down the speech you have mentally prepared and wave the white flag in defeat. You shrug, looking back into the hallways where the agency holiday party took place. Could this really not wait at home?

“Is there anything I could do to change your mind, Sho?”

You blink back away the tears that desperately want to fall, refusing to cry in front of your coworkers, the corner the both of you were in grew hot. Your sweater feels tight around your neck, you watch as Shoto shrugs his shoulders. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.. but work is getting dangerous. We have different perspectives of life-“

“You think I didn’t know I was dating a hero?” You seethe taking small sips of your beverage, eyeing his apologetic figure, bullshit, his hands stuffed deep into his back pockets and his duo colored hair frame his face. You want to scream and shout out him, but arguing at a Christmas party was something you didn’t find much interest in right about now. It wouldn’t fix anything - it would only cause a scene. You shrug, “Fine, if that’s what you want. I’ll stay the night at Uraraka and Deku’s, I’ll be back for my stuff in the morning.” Taking in a heavy sip of alcohol from your red solo cup, watching Shoto nod.

“I’m really sorry-“

“Don’t.” You place your hand on his chest, stopping his movement from moving towards you. You didn’t want a hug or kiss goodbye, “I’m gonna go enjoy the rest of my night, you, can go home and pack my bags.” You pat his chest looking up from your teary eyelashes that clumped together. It just had to be this night, of all places, of all times.

Getting dumped the day before Christmas sure was a way to enter the New Year. Well, you shrug, downing the last of your alcoholic beverage in search for the brunette. “There’s a first for everything.”

And well... you guess this would be the story of how you got your heartbroken on Christmas Eve.

***

Last Christmas, you were left colder than ice. Your five year relationship frozen in time as you searched for apartments near the area. Close enough to work and far away from Shoto - he offered to stay at a hotel, even to leave himself. But you didn’t want anything from him, you wanted no lingering scents of the duel quirk user.

Who even breaks up with someone the night before Christmas!?

Irritated with life you settled down in a small cute apartment, washing your clothes to fade his warm scent of cinnamon mixed with the cool base of mint, mixing detergent and softener to mask his presence. Adopted a rescue dog to make the apartment seem more livelier - despite the scattered tissues and running mascara you were fine.

Just fine.

You look around your bedroom, snuggling beside your dog, Pebbles, sighing in irritation and wiping away the eye boogers that sat on the inner corners of your eyelids. Tapping your face awake and staring at the empty bottle of wine beside you resting on your nightstand. “I’m just... fine.”

Crying.

Sadness. Completely normal emotions and feelings to stumble upon after a break up - considering the two of you have been together for quiet sometime it took you awhile to get used to sleeping alone. Although, Pebbles did accompany you into bed to spare warmth it still hurt reaching out to nothing but either fur or air. Repeating the same routine everyday for months, avoiding all hero news, and simply just grabbing your favorite cup of coffee and heading off to work.

A cycle that grew all too quite robotic quickly.

That is, until you met Samonri Kayeta.

A senior executive advisor for the technical company you worked for to help support heroes. You had bumped into him in the break room while your poured yourself another cup of coffee. His presence startling you and causing you to spill your Styrofoam cup onto your hand and all over the marble corner tops.

Apologizing profusely for the scare he handed you a paper towel immediately, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Kayeta apologized, pulling your hand forward dabbing away at the burn and gently ushering you to the sink. Running your palm under the cold water, he treats the burn. 

This moment was only the beginning of the romantic relationship the both of you jumped into after only two months of dating. His apologies still remained when you bring up the first time the both of you met one another. Laughing his worries away. 

Samonri wasn’t a hero.

In fact, he was actually born quirkless just like you. 

And you were thankful for that fact, the hero life was just no longer a thing you planned to engage in. Seeing as your prior hero relationship didn’t end so well. Samonri wasn’t ever in the face of danger, he had no reason to protect you. So therefore excuses of a plausible breakup if things got bad never worried you. Between the both of you - nothing ever truly went bad. Of course couples argue, but the two of you never truly thought about breaking up.

And suddenly your cold heart, once frozen in time, thawed out from the warmth you found in another man.

***

Next Christmas, came faster then any other. An invitation to celebrate the engagement of both Izuku and Ochako to one another was received. The velvet invitation in your hand felt smooth as you handed it to Samonri - a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, he nods. “Yeah, let’s go.” He urged.

It was a night event, semi formal and semi casual.

You held hands dearly with Samonri as you entered the hall, when a pair of eyes trail your frame. You can feel his heat from all the way across the hall, his freezing temperatures dueling with his molting heat. Todoroki, the new number three hero is staring daggers into the brown haired mans back. Your eyes meet his duel colored ones, it’s been months since you’ve stared back into those eyes. 

“Are you okay, darling?” 

You turn to face Samonri, ignoring the eyes on your back. His grip on your hand tightens lovingly, “Y-Yeah, of course.” You say breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you haven’t spoken to Todoroki since the day you finally moved out - were the two of you even on first name basis? He stood in a corner besides Ilda and Momo, he looks different. Much more serious, a lot more bruises and scars. You weren’t there to treat his wounds no more, but you were thankful, you never had to go frantically search for the first aid kit every other night - not anymore at least. You walk over to Izuku, who is standing with Bakugou and Kirishima near the bar toasting to the engagement. 

You greet them normally, congratulating the two. 

Your shoulders ease when the boring eyes finally peel off your back sending cool goosebumps up your skin ending at the base of your neck. Samonri is already long gone, lounging with Denki and Sero at the bar sipping on a couple drinks with his dress coat resting behind him. Meanwhile you found yourself wandering towards to the group of girls who celebrated in delight. 

Uraraka’s smile growing larger with each passing second. 

Your feet hurt from all the walking and dancing, laughing as Samonri twirled you one last time. “You think we should head back home? It’s getting late,” He says running his fingers through his dark wavy hair, pulling at his roots. 

“Wanna wait in the car for a while, I’m just going to say good bye to everybody.” 

He nods, pressing a chaste kiss onto your forehead before digging into his jean pocket and pulling out his car keys; “I’ll wait for you.” His hand moves away from the small of your back as you watch him leave through the front door of the venue and into the hall where the elevator was. 

“I should probably leave, Samonri and I have work in the morning; I love you both! Congratulations!” You hug the happy couple, walking off to bid goodbye to the others. Leaving the venue and into the elevator, you press the down button. Awaiting for the elevator to arrive to your level you didn’t even realize the sound of the party room door opening and slamming shut. The small ding pulls you out of your thoughts, the sliding doors open and you step in, pressing the first floor button watching as the doors close. 

“Wait- Y/N!” 

The elevator door opens wide as Todoroki squeezes himself in, he leans down to catch his breath. With your hand over you hand from the startle you blink in surprise. You cross your arms over your chest, turning your head away. “What do you want, Todoroki.”

“Y-you... didn’t say... hello..”

“You ran all this way - because I didn’t say hello?”

The door closes shut, and the elevator begins to descend down the floors. Changing numbers from six to three, Shoto reaches out for the emergency stop button. Pressing hard against its flat red surface, a small buzz goes off. Ringing in your ears you nearly had enough, “Todoroki! What are you doing?”

Your back is slammed into the wall, two arms charge in your body like a flightless bird. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are teary, you’ve never seen him in such distress. Your body presses hard onto the cold flat surface behind you and his warm breath reddens your neck. He is mumbling to himself, quietly, you barley catch a glimpse of it. “Todoroki..” he says. Your heart is pounding, drumming away at your rib cage it’s been months since you’ve seen him up and close. “That’s not my name..” he sighs, you arch a brow questioning his out of character behavior. “What are you saying-“

“It’s not my name.. you call me Shoto.. Sho-“

“That was then.”

“So it just means nothing to you?”

“You left me.”

It goes silent. His eyes search into yours, reaching out to the woman he remembers. You grow irritated. Annoyed by the situation wishing the elevator door would’ve just closed a little quicker, he left you. Not the other way around, “Remember, Shoto, you left me the day before Christmas.. what do you want from me?” The words finally set in, he looks up at you. Confused and enraged you push him away, “Don’t you remember? And you ran all this way for a hello?! What kinda bullshit- how stupid do you think I am!?” You argue, walking towards the buttons.

“What do you want from me, mister pro hero.”

He sighs, blocking your way from the buttons, stopping you in your tracks. “Does he make you happy?”

You blow a raspberry at him, “Yes, of course he does- now if you’ll excuse me he’s waiting for me in the parking lot-“

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” He huffs, pushing your hand away from the buttons. You squint your eyes in annoyance, “Oh please you’ve had plenty of times to talk to me, a simple hello or how are you would’ve been nice.” You lean back to cross your arms over your chest ignoring his longing gaze.

“Please,” he whispers, staring down onto the ground.

You sigh once more in defeat know he wouldn’t move, he was like that. He was serious about this, and when he’s serious there was no way he’d back down from it. Tilting your head, you allow him to get in his last words. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“Don’t you think that’s a little too late?” 

“Everything I did was always too late.. when I said I loved you, when I asked you out after two years of being friends - god I should’ve asked the moment I met you; or when I left you because I couldn’t handle the fact somebody, no, someone like you could ever love me the way you did. It was so much.” 

He pushes away from the buttons and walks towards you slowly, backing you up into the wall. Your chest grows heavy at his words peering into his eyes that were hooded by his bangs. 

“I don’t know why I’m here.. but I just couldn’t let you go without tell you, I’m sorry.. I love you.. and to please just come home.”

Home.. 

The apartment you and Shoto bought right after the two of you graduated High School; he was already interning to become a hero and you were just starting college. With only one flower pot to decorate, three picture frames and mattress. The two of you ate dinner on top of the kitchen counter laughing at the most idiotic things you could come up with. The one you spent five years in, cleaning his wounds, holding him after the hard days, settling him in warm baths to ease his tense muscles.

Home was the place the two of you discussed about a family. 

Until last Christmas.. when he left you.

He presses the button on last time, allowing the elevator to continue its transit to the first floor. Look up to face you, you can finally see him clearly. His eyes, his face you once stared into lovingly. 

You still loved him. 

The elevator dings, opening up its metal doors yet you stand still for a while. He’s whispering, begging for you to stay, to not leave. 

But the past can not effect your decision that Shoto Todoroki..

“I’m sorry, Todoroki. I wish you well.” You step out, clutching hard onto your purse. Refusing to look back at his defeated body, his expression would merely kill you. Leaving the venue in a hurry searching for Samonri. 

His car is parked just around the corner, his tall frame smiles at you with his arms crossed leaning on the trunk; he waves you over. You speed walk towards him, “Hey babe,” he places a small kiss onto your forehead tenderly, noticing your face of sadness he cups your cheeks, “What’s wrong?” 

was indeed your past.

You shake your head of the thoughts of the pro hero you once cleaned up in the dead of nights away; focusing on your now. His gentle features, his intentions clear as day. For so long you choked on smoke and ice.. smiling at him. 

Goodbye, Sho..

“Nothing.. lets go home.”

TAGLIST:  @meep-meep​ @hikaru-mikazuki​ @jabkie​ @simpingovereveryanimeguy​ @theycallmemrsbarnes​ @bittersweetbooke​​ @meri-soni-meri-tamanna​​ @myheroesaretired​ @fandomtrashbitch​ @chocbaleine​

Authors note: Who said this would be a cute fluff fic? I did, which obviously didn’t work out. Why? Because it just wasn’t realistic and wouldn’t make sense to just magically make the reader forgive him and leave someone who is perfectly capable of being with the reader seeing as he helped pick up the broken pieces left behind. Anyways. Honestly. I’m fucking tired, I’m sorry it took so long to get this out. Should of been out like a week ago, but so much has happened and I’ve been just all over the place, I have Winter blues and it’s hard to get through this. I just got a job too, it feels like I have no right to feel this way. People have it so much worse, but everyday I just really hate it here. I got all A’s, amazing friends and it’s like fuck people don’t even have what I have so it feels wrong for me to feel this way. But ig it is what it is. Sorry guys, updates soon.

[arknights-imagines]

For the Christmas thing can you do SilverAsh. hope you have a nice day! merry early Christmas

From, SilverAsh

Christmas Letter and Gift event

It's Christmas Day where I am, so Merry Christmas avshvsvs! ☃️🥺 SilverAsh's letter seems to be the most anticipated one considering I got so many requests for him shsjbss so I hope you all like it 🥺👉👈 Tysm to all of you for everything so far! 🥺😭 I'll make a more formal thank you post later on 🍡 for now, please enjoy the letter 🌸

- A very jolly Exe ☃️

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

You wake up just as the sun rises; rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you move to separate yourself from your covers in order to dress yourself for the day when your eyes are drawn to the snow-blanketed view of the RIIC main deck from outside your window.

Surprise paints your face for a moment when you notice Operators and staff alike frolicking outside in the snow, filling the air with mirth - and then you remember, ‘it’s Christmas Day.’

The realisation causes a smile to come to your face as a wave of cheeriness invigorates you. But then you reach toward your nightstand to grab something, you instead discover a lustrous silver envelope, propped up against the various items occupying the top of the nightstand. Pausing, your brow quirks up and you slowly take the envelope into your hands.

The envelope is devoid of any words or stamps, so the only way to figure out who it’s from is by opening it - and you do just that. The stark white paper you find inside of the envelope feels cold to the touch, but even so; when your eyes come to the familiar thin penmanship all over the page, your heart swells with warmth.

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

Ever dearest [name],

Sleep well, my dear? I sincerely hope so, as today is a rare occurrence that should be cherished while it’s here. In order to participate in Christmas festivities, you of course need to be well rested.

Christmas morning...what every child seems to anticipate from the first sight of snow. In Kjerag, Holiday celebrations are quite ostentatious; as expected, considering we bear the title ‘the Snow Realm’. But what’s more curious is that Christmas and its heartening traditions have persevered even in a world as wartorn as ours. Seldom is Rhodes Island a jubilant place, but that seems to have changed for Christmas.

To me, Holidays have always held little to no meaning. After my parents died, my sisters and I didn't gather together to celebrate the Holidays in the slightest; I have attended formal Christmas balls and traditional ceremonies out of obligation, but the last time I received or sent a gift feels like centuries ago. I believed my Christmas evenings were best spent dealing with business affairs for Karlan Trade Co., and so if you ever wished to find me on Christmas Day, a wise decision would be to go straight to my office.

However, outside the windows of my office and on the bright illuminated streets, revelers would dance and carolers would sing; though I never wished I was there celebrating alongside them, it was still quite the heartening sight. The Holiday experience in Kjerag truly is the epitome of Christmas and its spirit. Someday I’d like to take you there; I’ve never quite cared for the Holidays much, but I’m convinced that with you by my side, I’ll find myself enjoying Christmas and its celebrations more than I originally anticipated.

My apologies, my dear. I’ve long since strayed from my original topic. I suppose my thoughts are not as organized as I thought.

All beginning with my contract with Rhodes Island, or more well expressed - all beginning with the day you and I crossed paths, many things have changed. The day we met….my dear, has it really been that long? The calendar tells me so, but my heart does not. I suppose it is as they say; when you’re with your beloved, time flies.

To call you my beloved is in truth an understatement; [name], you may be that, but you are so much more. You encapsulate warmth so effortlessly, and you somehow imbue that warmth into someone as shrewd as myself. Through you, I have learned to understand compassion, and I have gained something to fight for. I never thought I would ever find someone to love in the way that I love you...but alas, here we are, my dear.

I’m well aware many hours of my day are spent with you, with working hours and leisure time melded together, and occasionally I am blessed with being able to spend the night with you. But quite simply...it’s never enough. I understand how that may sound, but it's how I feel in my heart.

Every moment you are gone, you occupy my thoughts, especially during this season of Christmas; My dear...the time we have together is not as long as it may seem. This world, with its catastrophes and its ruined society, can take either of our lives whenever it may like. As such, I wish to spend as much time as I can with you during the holidays.

As per Christmas tradition, I’ve purchased a gift for you. I have gifted you many things, though I feel this one is special. I choose it with only you and I in mind; no thoughts about outside things distracting me.

[Name], my dear; I love you, more than you can fathom. My affections toward you come without any conditions; toward you, I never have, and will never have ill intentions or ulterior motive. Some may persuade you to believe otherwise, but should that ever happen, remember this letter and what I’ve expressed through it.

I have more to tell you, but perhaps I should save that for when we see each other, which I hope will be very soon. Well then, my dear, I only have one last thing to ask of you; linger in the moments we spend together. Visit me to wish me goodnight before you go to bed, stay with me a few seconds longer when it’s time for us to part, forget your jacket in my room and return for it later.

Come meet me when you can today; I’ll wait for you, my dear. Perhaps this may come as unceremonious, but - from today and onward, my heart is yours, [name]; do what you will with it.

Yours eternally,

Enciodas

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

A effusive, unrestrained smile paints your lips as you read the last line of the letter. SilverAsh’s every word is enough to cause warmth to explode in your chest; such sincerity and tenderness from him is reserved solely for you.

Your eyes are once again drawn toward your nightstand, where you this time notice the rectangular box on its top; its colour identical to the envelope, white decorative ribbon ties the box closed. You reach over and retrieve it quickly, eager to see what SilverAsh has gotten you. The box feels weighted in your hands, and upon ridding the box of the ribbon and lid, your gaze falls on a delicate, beautifully-carved sculpture of marble.

It’s so detailed that almost immediately, you recognize the two figures embracing as SilverAsh and yourself; it's a sculpture of you and him. Your features and his are captured with impressive perfection, and the marble feels smooth and cool against your fingers once you remove it from the box.

A sculpture of such degree almost screams wealth, but because of its rather petite size and simple pale colour, it executes a bold yet warm message while not being unsightly to the eye. You smile down softly at the small sculpture of SilverAsh and yourself, then you glance back at the giftbox.

The last thing left in the box is a slip of paper with SilverAsh’s thin penmanship creating lines of words on its surface. ‘Merry Christmas, my dear. I had this sculpture commissioned by a very well known artist in Kjerag; quite captivating, isn't it? Even so, even the most beautiful art pieces cannot compete with you.’ You pause for a moment - attention drawn to your window once more. Your eyes widen slightly when you notice that a familiar, fluffy-eared figure has joined the ever growing crowd outside.

SilverAsh. He stands with his sisters, watching as his fellow Operators launch snowballs at each other and stumble in the snow; then his eyes meet yours. Even from your room so far away, you catch his expression as his lips fall agape, then a charming smile comes to his face. You're unable to stop yourself from grinning back - you quickly read the last sentences of the note, ‘[Name], even if you must work today, at least spare a moment to smile at me, won't you?’ Then, like a child rushing to their Christmas tree to open gifts, you waste no time grabbing your coat and hurrying out the door, knowing SilverAsh awaits you with a warm smile, ‘Even that smile alone would be a suitable enough Christmas present for me.’

[wandas-sunshine]

Free Falling

Summary: You’re nervous about Tony’s annual Christmas Ball, but Bucky is there to help ease your nerves, or maybe make them worse. Either way you’re happy to spend your time with him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,690

Warnings: Minor alcohol mention, reader is pretty anxious

A/N: This doesn’t specify the reader’s gender, but the reader does wear a dress so I apologize if that ruins it for you guys. Let me know what you think! Happy holidays my dears

Tony Stark’s parties were legendary. His annual Christmas Ball was the event of the year. A live orchestra, the best chefs in the world, and decorations that probably cost more than your house. Or at least that’s what you’d heard. Even after years of working with the Avengers, you’d never gone to one. You received an invitation every year, and every year you’d stare at it, but never once did you attend. You just didn’t have the confidence, or a date. Fancy dance parties weren’t exactly your cup of tea. But this year there was a new variable being tossed into play.

You had just been given your invitation. The words were printed in swirling silver script that reminded you of freshly fallen snow. You were so focused on the looping print that you didn’t notice Steve joining you in the kitchen.

“Are you thinking of going?” He asked. You nearly jumped out of your skin, whirling around to look at him. He gave you a sheepish smile.

“Oh, um...yeah, maybe. I don’t know, it’s not really my thing.” You shrugged and put the invitation back on the table. Steve hummed and picked it up.

“Buck is going this year.” He stated. You bit your lip. To most anyone who had known you for any length of time, your feelings for Bucky were  common knowledge. The only person still in the dark about it was Bucky himself, and you were happy to keep it that way. “I think he’d like seeing you there.”

You wanted so badly to ask why he’d care if you were at Tony’s stupid ball anyway. Nevertheless, the promise of seeing him was enough to convince you to face your fears and RSVP.

The next issue came with trying to find something you could get away with wearing. One look at your wardrobe was enough to make it clear that formal situations were not your usual environment. So Natasha decided to take things into her own hands. She argued that you didn’t know how to dress yourself up properly.

One shopping spree later and she had you dressed to kill, though not literally for a change. Of course you were insecure, staring yourself down in the mirror and picking out all of the flaws and insecurities. You probably would have backed out if it wasn’t for how excited your friends were for you to finally join them.

So there you stood outside the looming doors with Steve by your side. You clung to his arm with trembling hands, just praying that your knees wouldn’t go weak when you tried to walk inside. He’d been awfully sweet when you’d asked him to stay with you for a moment. You hadn’t expected to be so terrified, but nearly all of the most influential people in the world were beyond those doors. You could hear the music, and the excited chatter on the other side.

“Maybe I should just go home,” You decided, smoothing your hands over the skirt of your dress. Steve’s hand rested against your shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“Come on, you’re gonna have a good time.” He guided you gently through the doors.

The room was stunning, vaulted ceilings and wide open space. The bar was on the far end, and it was already crowded with people and lined with silver garland. The walls were lined with trees bigger than any you’d ever seen, all decorated in red and gold. There were shimmering silver snowflakes that looked like they were floating in midair. It was breathtaking really, more beautiful than any of the other parties Tony had thrown you were sure.

You didn’t get to admire the view for too long before you felt the familiar prickle at the back of your neck. You looked up to find several pairs of eyes on you, a few people even swapping whispered comments that you could only imagine were about the two of you standing there frozen at the entrance. You felt your stomach drop as the panic set in. You were no good at being the center of attention. You mentally scrutinized your appearance, but your attention was caught once again.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes snapped up, immediately meeting the steady gaze of one James Barnes. He looked like a model standing there. His black suit jacket covered his red vest and white undershirt. He’d tied his hair back into a bun at the base of his skull, and a few rebellious locks had fallen out into his face. You couldn’t help but think about how well the look suited him, what with the way it accentuated his stubble jawline.

“Everyone is looking over here,” You answered, your eyes drifting down to look at your overpriced shoes. He chuckled, and hearing that sound, you thought, may have been the closest to heaven you’d ever get.

“Let them look. You’re stunning.” The conviction in his voice made your chest fill with nerves until there was no room for your breath. You could have sworn that the floor had fallen out from beneath your feet. You were freefalling. You weren’t often on the receiving end of such compliments. Especially not from him. “Come on, everyone’s over by the bar,”

He offered your arm, and Steve gently pulled away from you. Even with your nerves, you knew it would be impolite to decline, so you rested your hand in the crook of his elbow. With two super soldiers flanking you, the crowd parted like the red sea. Unfortunately that also meant that a surprising amount of attention was turned to the person they were escorting. Everyone was looking at the three of you like you were royalty, but you were too preoccupied to notice, too distracted by Bucky.

When he left your side, you had found solace in the company of Sam and Natasha, both of whom looked stunning enough to make you a little insecure. Not that either of them were going to have any part of you talking badly about yourself. A few compliments later, and Bucky was back beside you, pressing a drink into your hand. You didn’t know what it was but you could use a little something to help you calm down. So you sipped it.

Once you had settled in with all of your friends things didn’t seem so terrible. But the whole time Bucky stayed glued to your side. You didn’t complain one bit. You were a couple of drinks in, joking with Wanda and Bucky until she was stolen away for a dance. Then there were two.

The two of you both fell quiet after only a moment. You sipped your drink and scanned the room. Everyone seemed to be having fun, but you were still pretty sure you stood out like a sore thumb.

“You need to stop thinking so much. Come on,” He took your drink out of your hand and set it down with yours. You quirked an eyebrow at him as he held his hand out for you. “Dance with me,”

You shook your head frantically. You were having enough trouble functioning just standing beside him. He still took your hand in his.

“Bucky, I don’t know how to dance.” You blurted out, pulling your hand from his even though you liked the way they fit so perfectly together.

“Don’t you trust me?” He took your hand again, this time more firmly so you wouldn’t pull it away again. “Just follow me lead,”

“I still don’t know about this,” You whined. Once he had led you to the floor, he carefully showed you what to do with your hands. With so many bodies closing in, you had no choice but to gravitate closer to him. He held you so gently, and the light scent of his cologne was dizzying. Lucky for you he had a hand pressed warm and firm against your lower back.

“You look like you’re gonna pass out,” He joked, leaning down to whisper directly into your ear. You shivered at the feeling of his breath tickling against your skin.

“I’m just nervous.” You laughed nervously at the confession. You hardly noticed how easily he was leading you to dance alongside the other couples on the floor. It was easy to follow his lead. You would, after all, follow him to the ends of the earth.

“Why are you nervous? You’re a natural,” He complimented, and you felt your body flush hot.

“It’s stupid,” You shook your head. The long silence between you told you clearly that he wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “I always get nervous around you,”

“Is that why you always avoid me?” He smirked, but there wasn’t the edge of disappointment or harsh amusement that you had expected from him. You nodded, your laugh fizzling into flustered giggles. This was pathetic. 

“When I’m around you it’s like my brain forgets how to work.” You confessed. You weren’t sure why you were spilling all your secrets to him, but once you started talking to him it was just so easy to keep going.

“You don’t seem to be having any trouble now.” He laughed, bright and bubbly like that thought alone made him happy. You wondered if that really did make him happy, but wasn’t that just wishful thinking?

“Really? Cuz I feel like I’m dying. Guess it just takes practice.” You were joking, sort of anyway, but Bucky grinned. He gave your waist a little squeeze and leaned down again, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered.

“Then you should spend more time with me. You should let me take you on a real date.” Your heart stuttered in your chest as his words sunk in. Maybe Christmas miracles were real, because Bucky Barnes being interested in you had to be thanks to some sort of holiday magic.

“Do you mean that?” You asked. He nodded a silent response, eyes locked with yours. “Yeah, yeah we should give that a go.”

That was the moment you finally admitted that maybe attending this stupid ball wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

[thatboomerkid]

Giff -- SpellJammer Race for Pathfinder

Giff -- SpellJammer Race [19 RACE POINTS] for First Edition Pathfinder

Known to the gnomes of Markovia as the nilski konj vojnici, to the Hin plantation-owners of Covington Farms as los mercenarios gigantes del río, and to the human field-workers laboring near New Arvoreen most-often simply as “those big goddamn bastards,” the giff -- as they are called in their own guttural, roaring language -- represent a recently-contacted species of huge, violent, powerfully-built, terrifyingly-focused, and dangerously cagey combatants.

In the little-over-a-century since their discovery by the Hin, platoons of giff have already carved a bloody name for themselves across the wilds of Verdura -- and far beyond -- as unparalleled river-guides, rowdies, strike-breakers, mob debt-collectors, private enforcers, heavy-weapons units, siege engines, bodyguards, and elite soldiers of fortune.

Brought to you absolutely free to enjoy, to test & to share – as always – by the fine folks of my Patreon.

original image by the incredible Claudio Pozas, here

Type: Monstrous Humanoid (3 RP)

Ability Score Modifiers: Mixed Weakness (-2 RP)

+2 Strength, -4 Dexterity, +2 Constitution, -4 Intelligence, +2 Wisdom

Size: Large (7 RP)

Giff gain a +2 size bonus to Strength and a -2 size penalty to Dexterity (already included above). Giff also suffer a -1 size penalty to their AC and a -1 size penalty on all attack rolls; they gain a +1 bonus on combat maneuver checks and to their CMD, and suffer a -4 size penalty on Stealth checks.

A giff takes up a space that is 10 feet by 10 feet and has a reach of 5 feet.

Base Speed: Normal speed (0 RP)

Languages: Standard (0 RP); giff speak their own eponymous, curiously poetic language, and most are -- in the modern day -- also conversant in Low Kozah-Talosii (usually spoken with a thick, pompous Verduran accent).

This bastardized dialect, the so-called “Common tongue” favored across Pyrespace for use in international, intercultural, and interplanetary trade, is a degraded mongrel variant of High Kozah-Talosii: the ancient root-tongue of both Arvorean and Brandobarin, still employed by the Church of Yondalla for use in sermons, hymns, and in all official records.

Big Damn Guns: Giff are treated as gnomes for purposes of the Experimental Gunsmith Archetype. (0 RP)

Darkvision: Giff have 60 ft. darkvision (0 RP); giff have relatively poor eyesight while out of water, which is easily corrected with simple lenses -- such as a monocle -- for use while reading. This vision is not poor enough to impart a mechanical penalty on Perception checks or attack rolls made by the giff.

Natural Armor: Giff have +3 natural armor (4 RP)

Natural Attack (Headbutt): Giff receive one natural attack, which is treated as a gore attack that deals 1d8 bludgeoning damage. (1 RP)

Natural Swimmers: Giff have a swim speed of 30 feet and gain the +8 racial bonus on Swim checks that a swim speed normally grants. (1 RP)

Powerful Charge (Headbutt): Whenever a giff charges, it deals twice the standard number of damage dice with its headbutt plus 1-1/2 times its Strength bonus. (2 RP)

River-Sense: Giff can sense vibrations in water, granting them blindsense 30 feet against creatures that are touching the same body of water. (1 RP)

Slow On Land: Giff often select the Clumsy, Easy Target, Magically Inept, Nearsighted, and Slow Reflexes Major Drawbacks (0 RP)

Spell Resistance (Greater): Giff have spell resistance equal to 11 + their character level. (3 RP)

Sporting: The species-wide love of warfare exhibited by the giff draws a sharp line of distinction between “sporting” and “unsporting” combat (see below). (-1 RP)

Sporting combat includes arm-wrestling, fisticuffs, darts, cards, dice, checkers, chess, billiards, cricket, rugby, skeet shooting, tennis, and golf, alongside tests of boasting, carousing, headbutting, toast-giving, swimming, push-ups, and a complex, ritualized sort of thunderous, unarmed mixed martial-art performed solely while stripped down to breeches & undergarments, usually in ankle-deep to waist-deep water, ending in pin or submission, which -- up to a point -- also serves as a type of flirting.

The military mentality of the giff even makes special allowances for a variety of “sporting” duels to the death. Establishing a proper duel requires a huge number of complex ritual elements that -- in the end -- mostly boils down to both giff formally acknowledging that:

Both giff are armed with approximately the same quality of weapons & armor (warhammer, combat knife, pistol, full plate, etc.)

Both giff have equal access to military support, including healing

Both giff have a grievance, no matter how petty

Both giff are suffering approximately the same level of injuries

Both giff have made arrangements for their estate, and for the treatment of their body after death

Once a “sporting” challenge to the death has been agreed-to by both parties, anything up to and including outright murder of one’s opponent is considered fair game.

Several major holidays each year celebrated by the giff include a “violent dueling festival” as part of their celebration; to outsiders, these events have a very bizarre, genteel, 1800s-Victorian-Teddy-Roosevelt-meets-The-Purge sort of feel to them:

“Happy holidays, friend; best of health this year to you and to your kin. And I say, old chap, don’t suppose it’s high time for a kukri-duel, eh, wot wot? Seeing as you got drunk on my finest brandy, made a pass at the missus, wiped your prodigious buttocks with my table linens, and micturated in my hedge-row as of Christmas last, well ... in lieu of an apology, what say I have Jenkins fetch the carving blades, eh? See which of has the moxie, shall we? Cheerio and have at thee then, old sport?”

If this formal challenge to a lethal sporting-duel is declined, the challenger must make all possible accommodations to guarantee the immediate physical safety of the giff she just challenged (at least until such time as the two giff part ways once more): providing the giff with weapons, armor, food, water, medicine, reading materials, a place to sleep, liquor, smoking tobacco, and anything else a gentleman or lady of high breeding could reasonably expect to have access to (even while imprisoned).

In short: if the challenged giff dies immediately after declining a duel, it is considered very embarrassing for the challenger.

For his own part, the declining giff must treat her challenger with the very utmost level of respect ... or risk being guilty of unsporting conduct, a fate far worse than mere death.

Any giff who finds herself about to violate the terms of properly “sporting” conduct instantly becomes aware of the error, just as if she were wearing a phylactery of faithfulness and, at all times, actively contemplating the thought of doing bodily harm to another giff: this behavioral limitation is not built as a trap for players to accidentally stumble into, but -- instead -- as an interesting roadblock to navigate around.

If two or more giff find themselves forced into a position of armed conflict against one another on a battlefield, both groups traditionally retire for at least a day of drinking and sorting-out ranks; on rare occasion, one platoon will join the other; more likely, all giff involved in any part of the operation will quit their current hirings and look for work elsewhere.

Any giff who engages another member of her own species in any type of unsporting combat -- attacking another giff with a weapon, for example, or with magic -- immediately suffers a -2 penalty on all skill checks, ability checks, attack rolls and saves; she continues to suffer this penalty until such time as she is able to make amends: presenting her victim with a formal written apology, or seeking our her victim’s family to beg their public pardon.

Each month, this penalty increases by 2. Guilt is a poison that grows by degrees, after all: ever-gnawing.

While she is suffering penalties in this way, if the giff is presented with the chance to punish herself – or a non-giff opponent! – while presented with something that reminds the giff of her betrayal, she may find herself compelled to do so regardless of the consequences:

Any time her betrayal is directly brought to her attention, the giff must make a Will save (DC = 10 + her character level + the Charisma modifier of the wronged giff). Failure means that the giff falls into a rage of abject self-loathing, completely focused on her own guilt for a number of rounds equal to the DC, above. Until she has finished with this exercise in hate, the giff can take no action other than to harm the reminder of her failure or enable herself to harm it: grappling a human shipmate who mentioned her old friend so that she might headbutt the human while strangling them, for example, or calmly loading a shotgun so that she might shoot the human dead in cold blood.

Note that the giff, while wracked with guilt & grief, is not required to do anything or harm anyone: she may simply stare at an old photograph and feel sad, for example, ignoring everyone around her.

During the fury of this black tempest, the giff suffers a -2 penalty to her AC.

Once the giff successfully makes amends, either with the wronged party or with the victim’s next-of-kin, all of the above penalties are removed. Entire subsets of giff society -- mediators, arbitrators, and negotiators -- are explicitly adapted to making absolutely certain that any errors in sporting conduct among giff are resolved quickly, and to the satisfaction of all parties. 

Should she fail to make amends before her death, any giff who has harmed another giff in an unsporting way invariably rises again as an undead horror of some kind (often a blood knight or graveknight): reborn as a rotting, lurching mountainside of infinitely destructive hated.

Note that the Sporting Racial Trait is not purely social, but rather acts as a species-wide ingrained psychological virtue: two giff living on Fenris who never expect to see the wide rivers of Verdura again are still bound by the rules of “sporting” conflict; neither could shoot the other in the back any more than either of them could grow wings and fly to the moon.

Undead giff do not possess the Sporting Trait, which is seen -- by living giff -- as the most abhorrent and disturbing quality imaginable.

Note, also, that the desire to behave in a sporting manner extends only to fellow giff: Chaotic Evil giff will routinely massacre unarmed non-giff by the thousands, bellowing with laughter as they do so, and even a Lawful Good giff will rarely think twice before sucker-punching a crude human making drunken threats and impolite remarks at the bar.

-------

Giff Timeline:

1603 A.D. (118 years ago): The colony of New Arvoreen is established on Verdura; giff make contact with Hin (and their human servants) for the first time.

1620 A.D.: First generation of giff who have always known about the existence of Hin, humans, and -- most importantly! -- firearms fully comes of age.

1636 A.D.: New Arvoreen is significantly expanded.

1667 A.D.: Nation of Markovia -- the technological-marvel nation named for its Founder, Monarch and Supreme Leader, Dr. Adlai Markovitch -- founded on Verdua; diplomatic trade established with New Arvoreen.

1669 A.D.: City of New Arvoreen significantly expanded.

1702 A.D.: New Arvoreen significantly expanded; land officially cleared for Covington Farms, soon to be the largest agricultural facility in the system; rates of forcible immigration of indentured humans to New Arvoreen tripled.

1721 A.D.: (current year)

original image here

Giff Ranks: Lieutenant, General, Colonel, Major General, Lieutenant General, Lieutenant Colonel, Captain General, Brigadier General, Field Marshall, Major, Captain, Sergeant Major, Commandant General, Wing General, Lieutenant Colonel General, Staff Sergent, Master Sergent, Master General, Grenadier General; note that “Lord” may be added to any military rank, alongside the designations of “First” and “First Class” (for example, “First Lord Brigadier General First Class”)

Giff military ranks are, effectively, meaningless noise to everyone except the giff themselves: every member of the species is a decorated officer of some complex rank within some elite military company or another, but such ranks are largely ceremonial and may be inherited, purchased, or passed through elaborate, bombastic ritual.

Further, the only thing preventing a young giff from forming an entirely new military organization & immediately naming herself -- of example -- Supreme Acting Field Commander and Secretary General of the Armies and Navies at Wartime is -- up to a point -- her own willingness to do so.

Male Giff Names: Any invented male Hin name.

Female Giff Names: Any invented female Hin name.

Giff Family Names: Any invented male Hin first name

Society

The giff are military-minded, and organize themselves into squads, platoons, companies, corps, and larger groups. The number of giff in a platoon varies according to the season, situation, and level of danger involved.

A giff "platoon" hired to protect a gambling operation may number only a single soldier, while a platoon hired to invade an illithid stronghold may number well over a hundred.

The giff pride themselves on their weapon-skills, and any giff carries a number of swords, daggers, maces, and similar tools on hand to deal with troublemakers.

A giff's true love, however, is the gun. A misfiring weapon matters little to the giff (occasional fatalities amongst soldiery are simply to expected); it is the flash, the noise, and the damage that most impress them.

Even unarmed, the giff are powerful opponents. Against non-giff, they’ll often wade into a brawl just for the pure fun of it, tossing various combatants on both sides around to prove themselves the victors.

Once a weapon is bared, however, and the challenge becomes “unsporting,” the giff consider all restrictions off: the challenge is now to the death.

The giff prize themselves as top-quality mercenaries, and to that end take great pride in owning -- if not always wearing -- elaborate suits of full-plate armor. These suits usually include massive helms featuring hyper-detailed, semi-realistic images of exotic monsters on the crests, inlaid with ivory and bone along the largest plates.

Armor repair is a major hobby among the giff, although great skill at the craft is surprisingly rare.

The giff are deeply suspicious of magic, magicians, and magical devices; their legendary foes, the Five Tiger Princes, are despised for their esoteric abilities as much for their wicked deviltry.

image here

Family

The giff are, for the most part, happiest among fellow members their own race, intermingling broadly with the Ghoran -- whom the giff utilize as an edible, inexhaustible workforce -- and the Tengu: another unofficial “servitor race” of the giff, most often used as messengers and household servants.

Ghoran living on giff lands are stoic: dutifully tending the fields of the giff in exchange for protection from ten-thousand other, vastly more predatory dangers. For all that giff treat the ghoran as disposable -- a ghoran living on Verdura produces one seed each year, and can grow a new member of the species in a single month -- the giff do not want the ghoran hunted to total extermination. That, for the ghoran, is saying something,

Tengu, on the other hand, are deeply prized by the giff as staff, usually in the roles of personal assistants, groomers, decorators, butlers, bartenders, man-servants, attaches, major domos, and maids. Since all giff are “wealthy land owners,” to one degree or another, the true power & prestige of a giff can be accurately measured by the number of tengu he employs.

Giff otherwise consider anything larger than them deeply threatening, yet also complain bitterly -- in private -- about the fragility of the smaller races. Outside their own platoons, the giff are happiest among military organizations with a strong chain of command.

For this reason, giff hold the Church of Yondalla in exceptionally high regard.

Giff especially despise the catfolk: although they don’t speak of it to outsiders, a century ago the giff were on the verge of extinction: hunted for sport and trophy by servants of the Five Tiger Princes, their people nearly cut to nothing and their lands held by only a few remaining families. Since their acquisition of firearms -- and the arrival of the Hin -- the catfolk have broadly retreated.

Every giff -- male, female, and giffling -- has a rank within their greater society, which can only be changed by a giff of higher rank. Within these ranks are sub-ranks, and within those sub-ranks are color-markings and badges. The highest-ranking giff gives the orders, the others obey. It does not matter if the orders are foolish or even suicidal: following them is the purpose of the giff in the universe. A quasi-mystical faith among the giff -- who claim to worship, in a vague way, the Golden General Bahamut, who was killed and eaten by the cowardly Five Tiger Princes in order to steal his strength -- confirms that all things have their place, and the place of the giff to follow orders.

This makes the giff very happy.

Giff platoons can be hired from their sprawling, palatial riverside plantations and mountain hunting-lodges by anyone looking for muscle. The social leaders among the giff are contractors: these specially-trained giff review prospective employers according to ability to pay, then make a recommendation to powerful warlords and famous adventurers among the giff. The leaders, in turn, consider the danger of the job, and whether taking it will enhance their giffdom.

Giff jobs are usually paid in firearms & gunpowder, though they often will accept other weapons and armor. Aboard ship, the giff require their own quarters, and will often request to bring on their own large weapons. They favor fire-projectors and bombards for ground work, and will happily blaze away at opponents regardless of the tactical situation.

The giff require the ships of others because they have -- for the most part -- no spellcasting abilities among them.

Giff of both sexes serve in their platoons, and both fight equally well. Giff young are raised tenderly until they are old enough to survive an exploding arquebus, then are inducted fully into the platoon.

The giff practice equality among the sexes in battle and in childrearing. They live about 70 years, but do not take aging gracefully. As a giff grows older and begins to slow down, he is possessed with the idea of proving himself still young and vital, usually in battle.

As a result, there are very, very few old giff.

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 2

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink, alcohol, loneliness

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Merry Christmas, everyone! Here’s a little gift from me to you 😌 I hope you like it! Let me know what you think in the comments below.

8 years later

Winter in DC was too cold. It had reached that time of year when the roads turned icy at the slightest humidity in the air, and it had already snowed at least twice since December began. Thankfully, the snow didn’t stick around very long; FBI agents were on-call 24/7. A double-edged sword, really. On one hand, it meant work was a great way to avoid problems. It was easier to forget. On the other hand, well, it was work.

“Six years in this city and it’s still so fucking cold,” Erin muttered to herself, shivering as her car warmed up. She buried her face into the scarf wrapped around her neck, trying to warm up. The warmth from the heated steering wheel seeped into her fingers, soothing the ache in her joints. She was supposed to meet Sachi at the bar for drinks. It had become a regular event in her weekly life; one night a week to go out and relax.

Some would’ve said that her promotion meant she could take more time off. That she could delegate a little more and take on a lighter workload as a result. But as a supervisor for the Operational Technologies branch, she had all the more reason to work more. Well, that’s what she convinced herself, at least.

Her friend and coworker, Sachi, was already seated at a table by the time she arrived. The bar was pretty busy, busier than the week before. It made sense; the holidays were always a time for friends and family to catch up on each other’s lives.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late, a meeting went overtime and I ran into some traffic on the way here,” Erin apologized, draping her wool coat over the back of her seat and sitting down. The next article to be shed was her scarf, which she kept piled on her lap. “Were you waiting long?”

“No, no worries,” her friend answered, shrugging. “I just got this table a couple minutes ago. Happy hour seems extra popular this week. How was the meeting?”

She rolled her eyes. “The usual; operations found some bugs in the new software and had some suggestions, so half of the developers will be working on that while the rest continue building our newest tool. How did your day go?”

“It was so slow, I don’t know which politician decided to choose yesterday to fuck up, but there were files everywhere,” Sachi groaned, rubbing her forehead tiredly. Her eyes landed on the sparkling gem on Erin’s hand. “I do have a question for you, though: why do you wear that ring?”

She raised a dark brow, then followed her line of sight to her hand. “Oh, this? It’s….it’s just something to keep the men away, that’s all. You know how they are.”

A curious head tilt. “I do, but are you sure that’s what you want? You deserve to find someone who makes you happy, Rin.”

Erin gave her a tight-lipped smile, twisting the metal band around her finger. It was a recent purchase; a gift to herself. A promise. A promise to remember. Even if he wasn’t hers to remember, at the end of the day.

“Is this still about that Marcus Pike guy?” Sachi asked, her voice softening as Erin avoided looking up. She reached across the table and covered her hand with hers. The glittering band of her own wedding ring seemed to mock her. “It’s been seven years since he went missing, Rin. You searched for him yourself; he’s gone.”

The news had broken just before Erin arrived in DC. Marcus Pike had gone missing, and there seemed to be no trace of him. His last known address was empty, his file had been wiped from all government databases, even his social media accounts were nonexistent.

One of the first things she did after her promotion was asking for a search squad. His number was still in her phone, but the number was no longer receiving calls. Even his email seemed to be deactivated, but it had existed before. There should’ve been a digital trail. It didn’t matter to her that it had been months since he was last seen–he was her best friend, and she wasn’t going to give up on him that easily.

Juggling her work with the investigation took its toll on her. Sleep eluded her, so she upped her coffee intake and spent countless hours off the clock. As a result, exhaustion settled in mid-day. Her work grew sloppy, obvious problems going untended and creating delays in operations.

The head of the department shut down her search after a year. He had cited it being a “waste of resources.” Maybe it was, to them. For such a large bureau with so many applicants, there was bound to be a replacement for Agent Pike. But even so, no one could replace Marcus.

“I know,” she replied softly. “I know. I’m trying, it’s just...I’ve spent years working for the FBI, and every time I stop to check the time, it’s like months have passed. And you know how my last relationship ended.”

She had been seeing a guy working for a tech startup, and at first it was great. The late nights and morning texts had been enough. But as time went on, and she became more immersed in her work following the election, her boyfriend grew restless. He wanted his girlfriend at home with him, preparing dinner and asking him about his day at the startup. Then he started the accusations. He accused her of cheating, of rubbing her success in his face.

Everything he said was false, but she had given up on trying to convince him. So she gave him a choice. He could leave if he wanted to, and there would be no hard feelings, just incompatibility. Or, he could stay, and she’d try to make more time for him. He chose the former.

“Oh come on,” Sachi reasoned, tapping the back of her hand. “You’re beautiful, smart, can kick ass. There has to be someone who’s into that.”

“Maybe,” Erin shrugged. Once upon a time, she had hoped she would meet someone like that. And in a way, she had. But at the end of the day,  she was a coward. She was a coward, and she paid the price for it.

They always said that time was money. In her case, the price she paid was high.

Sachi’s eyes lit up. “You know what? Why don’t you come to a holiday party I’m hosting? Maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

“Who’s going?”

“Some of our coworkers, some of my friends, and their friends, potentially,” she listed off, waving off her concern. “Nothing very special, in my opinion.”

A party would be nice. If not for the company, then for the food; and if not the food, then the drinks. Yes, the drinks. Drinks were good.

Erin conceded with a nervous grin. “Alright, but no meddling!”

“Yay!” she squealed. Then, her expression turned serious again. She pointed at the ring. “But whatever you do, don’t wear that.”

---

Sachi’s house looked like it was out of a movie. Tall and sparkling with lights, her home was the textbook picture of a family Christmas. There was even a wreath on the front door and a wooden sign with drawn-on snowflakes that welcomed the party guests.

The foyer was lined with emerald garlands and shimmering fairy lights, leading her further in towards the kitchen. From giant gold ornaments to wooden figurines, it seemed as if she had thought of everything.

When she reached the kitchen, there were already some guests gathered around the kitchen island. Platters of sweets and charcuterie boards were spread over the marble countertop, glistening in the soft light. The guests grazed from small plates as they greeted each other and raved about how great it was to finally catch up.

Perhaps she’d host her own holiday party someday. When she had the space, of course. The apartment that she’d chosen wasn’t the best for groups, and she wanted enough surface area for decorations. Her string of lights and small tree at home paled in comparison to the giant tree in Sachi’s living room.

The invite had specified a semi-formal dress code, so she chose a black off-the-shoulder dress that reached her knees. She paired it with some black heels and a white blazer draped over her shoulders for warmth. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

“Erin!” Sachi squealed, coming over to give her a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’re right on time. Everyone else should be arriving soon.” She shooed her away. “Go have fun! And if you need a wingwoman, I’ve got your back.”

Erin shivered as Sachi swept off her jacket, the cool air brushing against her shoulders. Nevertheless, she smiled. “Thanks.”

“Of course!” she replied. The next thing she knew, a glass of champagne was tucked into her hand. “Now go!”

What Sachi had failed to tell her, though, was that she was going to be one of the only singles in the entire house.

Wherever she turned, she found couples congregated into circles where they could discuss...whatever couples discussed. Not wanting to barge in as a third, fifth, or seventh wheel, she stuck close to  the perimeter of the room.

Thankfully, she found an acquaintance from work who had also come to the party alone.

“Waiting for someone?” Ashley asked, sipping from a half-empty glass of wine. She was one of the receptionists for the technologies department. They’d spoken a couple times, but never much more than professional talk.

Erin shook her head and finished her third glass of champagne. Maybe she’d try the moscato next, just to change things up a little. The whole point of attending the party was to relax, right? So, she was trying to relax. “Just trying to loosen up. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a party.” A soft laugh. “I can see why people like bringing a friend along. It would help a lot.”

“Why didn’t you, then?” At the lack of response, she sighed. “Is work still taking up a lot of time? You know you can take more time off.”

Yes, she knew. She’d heard it nearly a thousand times already. She knew she could take time off just like she knew she could forget about her past and move on. Part of her wanted to change, to move on as if nothing had happened. But after years of the same routine, and the same decisions coming back to bite her, it was hard to change.

“I know,” Erin replied, pressing a hand against her forehead. It was hotter than normal–did Sachi turn up the heating? She silently cursed her genetics; she’d probably have a fever later that night. “But as you know, there’s always more work to do. I signed up for this, so I need to do my job.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t rest,” she reasoned, nudging her arm. “Are you still leading the search for that guy? Marcus Pike? I remember you were pretty involved with that.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the alcohol. She gripped the glass a bit tighter. Her voice was clipped as she said, “No, I’m not. The search squad was disbanded years ago. We spent a year searching for him and there was nothing. There was nothing.” She swayed as she stood up, but quickly regained her balance. “I’m gonna….get another drink. Is there anything you want me to bring?”

“No thanks,” Ashley replied. Watching as Erin stumbled, she asked, “Are you sure you want another drink? Maybe you should take a break first.”

She waved her off. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just the shoes.”

Yeah, right.

Erin’s turn around the corner was much too sharp, and her sluggish mind barely seemed to register the fact that she collided with a broad chest. Strong arms came up around her, holding her in place so she didn’t fall over. They were warm. Before she could stop herself, she splayed her hands on their chest, brows furrowed. What did Sachi put in there?

Then, she looked up and met the person’s eyes. Dark brown ones, to be exact. With a depth and sparkle that she hadn’t seen since Austin. Softly, she said, “M-Marcus?”

The man’s lips parting in shock. As Erin’s slightly-blurred gaze drifted down to his mouth, she frowned. No, it couldn’t be her Marcus; her Marcus didn’t have facial hair, nor did he wear glasses. He was handsome, though–just as handsome. And he was strong–she felt safer in his arms than she had in years.

“H-how do you know my name?”

His voice was similar, too, though a bit raspier.

She blinked. Then, it dawned on her; it wasn’t a dream. She really was at a party, in a dress pressed up against a very good-looking man who looked vaguely like her late best friend. It felt as if she had jumped into the snow without clothes on. She blushed and flinched away from him–as if she needed to be even redder–and said, “Sorry, you just look a bit like an old friend of mine. His name was also Marcus.”

It was her, Marcus realized. He would have recognized her voice anywhere, and when she looked up at him with those dark, green-flecked eyes, his years in Texas came rushing back to him. Part of him didn’t want to believe it. What was she doing in DC? And what were the chances that they’d meet again, with his changed identity?

Even so, she was as beautiful as he remembered, her smooth black hair styled into shining waves and her full lips painted a muted pink. In their time as friends, he rarely saw Erin out of her work clothes; a side effect of working for the FBI. Seeing her in a dress, and up close, against his chest felt like a dream. A dream that had plagued his mind for nearly a decade.

At the same time, she looked different. There was an air of exhaustion that clung to her just as tightly as her authority. Her eyes didn’t have the same bright sparkle that she had on her first day. He wondered if her smile was the same, and if she still took her coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream. If she still collected houseplants as if they were pets. If she was still the Erin he remembered.

The tugging in his chest pulled him towards her, and the old whisper of Marcus Pike urged him to tell the truth. To drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. To tell her that he was sorry for leaving her, for dismissing her concerns about Lisbon. For disappearing without a trace. But Marcus Moreno, his new identity, his new life, knew it wouldn’t be fair to her.

So he introduced himself. A wave of relief washed over him as Erin giggled softly and shook his hand, telling him her name.

He’d missed her laugh, and the way the corners of her eyes crinkled just slightly when she was happy. He missed everything. He missed her.

“So,” she began, swaying a little. Her last drink was finally kicking in. Her brows furrowed in concentration. “How do you know, uh, Sachi?”

The little furrow of her brows was still adorable; he knew it only showed when she was thinking really hard. He just hoped she would remember their interaction in the morning. She rarely drank enough to get drunk, not wanting to bother with her body’s violent reaction to alcohol. Or so she told him.

“I’m a friend of her husband,” he replied, touching her arm softly as she swayed again. “Do you…do you want to sit down for a bit? We can keep talking, I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

Erin hummed softly and nodded. “Yes, but don’t worry, I can handle a little fall.”

“I don’t doubt you can, Miss FBI.” Realizing his mistake, he cringed. So much for trying to have a fresh start. He guided her over to the table and pulled out a chair for her, making sure she was comfortable before sitting down in the seat next to her.

She frowned. “How do you know I work for the FBI?”

A pause. Then, he answered, “I overheard Sachi talking about you. You two seem to be pretty close.”

Drumming her fingertips on the table, she answered, “I guess so, yeah. She was one of my first friends after I moved here six years ago.” Her eyes glazed over with a tinge of sadness. “Time seems to be flying by very fast these days.”

Marcus sighed softly. “Yeah.” He offered her a smile that made her heart flutter. Or maybe that was just her stomach?  “I guess it’s up to us to make the most out of it, right?”

She nodded. Propping her head up against her hand, she replied, “Definitely. So, tell me about yourself, Marcus Moreno. I think you mentioned a daughter?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Missy. If there was anything he didn’t regret in the past few years, it was meeting his late wife and raising his baby. But the story of his wife could come later; for now, he wanted to tell his best friend about his little girl.

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