#3rd snowfall in a week! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redheadspark · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! May I have Oliver Wood with #10, please?

A/N - Awww I love this! Thanks for the request, anon!

Repeat

Summary - Oliver hears something that makes him stop in his tracks

Warnings - Just fluff

“Alright, we need to talk about the Holidays coming up!”

“Do we?”

“Yes! Especially since your mum is expecting me to come to dinner at least once!”

Oliver rolled his eyes and placed his playbook down in his lap, seeing you perched in the armchair across from him while the Gryffindor Common Room fireplace was crackling with a roaring fire. Thankfully, it was just the two of you, since the rest of Gryffindor House was either out and about or winding down for the night. The first signs snowfall was coming through Hogwarts Valley with the first snowfall hitting the castle that evening and chilling temperature. Thankfully, with the magic that was all over Hogwarts, every room was toasty warm with barely any breeze coming through the corridors or in the class rooms.

The Christmas Holidays were coming around the corner, most of the students were planning on getting on the Hogwarts Express to head home for the two week holiday. You and Oliver included, the pair of you planning on visiting each other’s homes since your families knew one another for years. It was also nice that you both lived very close to one another, 3 miles from each other’s homes in a small muggle community. It was almost a running gag when you two were kids that you both would end up together as a couple, to which both yourself and Oliver denied it and claimed to be friends.

You ended up being together since your 3rd year, to the delight of both sets of parents.

Now in your 7th year, yourself and Oliver wished to enjoy your last year of Hogwarts together as much as you could before the real world would come into play. It was nice that you both had some plans lined up and what you wished to do as careers, Oliver having plenty of money saved up from chores in the summer to get the pair of you a small little apartment. You too had some money, and the apartment he found was close to his aunt in case the pair of you needed anything.

But for now, you were enjoying the holiday season as it was coming around the corner. You had another week at Hogwarts before going on the train back home, and you wished to hammer out some of the details with Oliver. Yet true to his fashion, he was pushing it off to the last minute. Of course he had other things to work on, including The Gryffindor Team that was on the path to winning against Slytherin.

“My mum wants you to come over Christmas Eve, and I know your mum wants me over Christmas night, right?” You asked him as watched up read the last bit of your paragraph of your book.

“Aye, but I do need to warn ya, my mum is invitin’ a few of my Aunts and Uncles to dinner and they’re gonna want in interrogate ya,” Oliver explained as he tossed his playbook on the coffee table in front of him. You giggled, looking up from the book over at him and seeing him watch you with his big grin.

“Should I be worried?” You asked coyly.

“Eh. They’re a bit harmless for the most part. But I can’t make any promises if the photos of me as a baby come out though,” Oliver explained as you giggled, “My Aunts loved takin’ pictures of me all the time since I was the first nephew for them to torture,”

“They sound lovely,” You commented, stretching your arms over your head to get some feeling back in your arms from sitting in the chair for too long, “Then you know my Dad and how he’ll steer you into a corner and chat about Quidditch for hours on end,”

“I don’t mind talking to your Da about quidditch, you know that,” He reasoned as he ruffled his own hair, “Although his favorite team is to be debated still.”

“You are still peeved that he doesn’t prefer Puddlemure United?” You asked as a joke, Oliver glaring at you though it was playful.

“Chudley Cannons are not as competitive as they used to be!” He reasoned, you rolling your eyes.

“Don’t tell Ron Weasley that,” you grumbled, Oliver laughing from the mention of the Weasley that loved and craved the sport, “Still, I’ll have a word with my Dad in how he talks to the love of my life and try not to have another argument like last year,”

Oliver paused as you were looking at the cover of your book, you not realizing what you just said but Oliver hearing every single word of it. Only the sound of the cracking fire was heard and the soft wind outside the windows that blew the snow sideways, but Oliver was opening and closing his mouth like a fish like you were still too occupied with your book.

“Can you please repeat that?” He asked, you looking up at him with a raised brow as he faced you from his spot on the couch.

“Repeat what?” You asked, seeing a massive smile on his face. It was then that you realized what was said and you blushed madly, looking down at your book again and trying to avoid his face.

“Oh no, go on and repeat it!” He replied, you shaking your head sheepishly. He then got up from the couch and glided over to you, crowding you in the chair and peppering your face with kisses. You sweated, trying to squirm away and avoid his lips but he was far too quick thanks to his quidditch reflects. You loved this side of Oliver, the side with his walls down and nothing stressing him out. Not thinking of quidditch, not thinking about class work, just being there with you and enjoying your time together.

“Come on, say it!” He teased as he tickled your sides and kissed all over your face. You laughed os hard you had tears in your eyes as you finally shoved him a bit to have him lean back. You cupped his fae and kissed him, feeling him melt against you as he was kneeling in front of the couch and keep you trapped in the furniture. But this time it was soft, the laughter under your skin as you grinned against his lips with another kiss.

You finally pulled away after a solid minute of you two kissing and you peered in his bright brown eyes that looked a pinch lighter with joy, “I love you. Okay?”

“Good thing I feel the same way too, darlin’.” He replied, leaning in to kiss you once more.

A week later, on the train ride home for the holidays, you two would be snuggled in your own compartment and looking forward to having Christmas together.

The End.

November Prompt Session

#fanfiction #writing #Oliver wood #Oliver wood x reader #Oliver wood x female reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp #hp fanfic

87 notes · View notes

estellesdoll · 3 months ago

Text

「🏷️」 Christmas Masterlist ┈ ⋅ ୧

notes: This is going to be a bit longer, but please take the time to read it!

Created: 11/21/24

Last Update: 12/31/24

。

＇Hello, everyone! I’m planning to create a special masterlist for the holiday and winter season—a Winter/Christmas Masterlist. It will include all sorts of posts, such as:

1. Fics

2. Headcanons

3. Blurbs

4. Instagram posts

5. Snapchats

6. Texts

＇

╰╮I’ll be posting daily from December 1, 2024, to January 1, 2025.

𓋜 Primarily, my posts will focus on the Sturniolo Triplets, but I’m also considering trying something new by writing about certain characters from Outer Banks.．．⋆

⋆｡˚

𓋜 As the days go by, I’ll update the list with titles, summaries, and the characters the stories will revolve around.

・ ୨୧ 1st week:

12/1/24 : Falling for you (in the snow) | Matt S. x doll!reader | blurb

12/2/24 : Flushed and Wrapped in love | Matt S. x doll!reader | blurb

12/3/24 : Snowy cabin | Matt S. | Instagram post

12/4/24 : Matching pajamas | Chris S. | Snaps

12/5/24 : Decorating disaster | Sarah Cameron | blurb

12/6/24 : Bf!Matt headcanons | winter themed

12/7/24 : bsf!chris conversations | texts

┄ 2nd week:

12/8/24 : Midnight Snowfall | Soft!chris x bunny!reader | fic

12/9/24 : Pictures of Chris that Y/N has on her phone ( background info) | bf!chris x gf!reader

12/10/24 : Bsf!Chris x Bunny!Reader Headcanons

12/11/24 : Familiar Strangers | Ex!Chris S. X Influencer!Reader | Fic

12/12/24 : Our Love, All Lit Up | matt x reader | Instagram post

12/13/24 : Snowed in Together | Chris S. X Reader | blurb

12/14/24 : The Hoodie Tease | Flirty!Chris S. X Fem!reader | Fic

・ ୨୧ 3rd week:

12/15/24 : Knocking on Christmas morning | Ex!Rafe C. X Reader | blurb

12/16/24 : Bf!Matt conversations | texts

12/17/24 : The perfect imperfections | bf!chris sturniolo x f!reader | fic

12/18/24 : Fresh Love, Stolen Glances | bf!chris x model!reader | fic

12/19/24 : the starry side of christmas | bf!rafe cameron x reader | blurb

12/20/24 : your camera roll if you were dating matt sturniolo (Christmas edition)

12/21/24 : Secret Santa | bf!rafe cameron x f!reader | blurb

┄ 4th week:

12/22/24 : code language of love | childhood bsf!matt sturniolo x f!reader | blurb

12/23/24 : lucky to have you | dad!matt x pregnant!reader | blurb

12/24/24 : bsf!nick sturniolo headcanons (platonic)

12/25/24 : Holiday hearts and Heated words | dad!rafe x pregnant!reader | fic

12/26/24 : in your arms, despite it all | husband!rafe x reader | blurb

12/27/24 : holiday baking chaos | bf!matt sturniolo x f!reader | blurb

12/28/24 : The Night we Found Ourselves | sarah cameron x f!reader | fic

・ ୨୧ 5th week:

12/29/24 : Velvet Heat | husband!matt x wife!reader | blurb

12/30/24 : ex!chris sturniolo headcanons

12/31/24 : Nick's new title | chris sturniolo x pregnant!reader | fic

ೀ You can also access all the posts by using the tag 'estellesdoll: 31 days of winter 2024', where you can simply scroll to find the next entries. All the posts included in this masterlist will have this tag.

￤Even though this is the winter holiday season, you can send me requests of any kind—it doesn’t matter if they match the theme or not.

𓋜 And not just requests—if you simply want to chat, I’m open to that as well. :)

￤If you want to send me requests and stay anonymous, don’t forget you can choose an emoji, and I’ll add it to the list of taken emojis.

taken anon. emjs ⁺ 　 . *

￤If you want to be added to the taglist, don’t forget to check out this post:

taglist ⁺ 　 . *

@estellesdoll

55 notes · View notes

abbyholdwrites · 1 month ago

Text

Love on Earth, Ep 1.

Hi! This is a little something i’ve been working on recently, idk whether or not to continue it but i like it so far.

also my first post on here. I’m hoping sending my stuff out into the aether will inspire me to write more. we’ll see ig

anyway this is 3836 words written as podcast transcript!

hope you enjoy :)))))

The following is a transcript of the Love on Earth podcast, directed by Marcus Klien and hosted by Jane Rudolph. In this episode, Rudolph interviews two “star-crossed” lovers from New York, now in their old age, on how their lives intertwined.

“Let's start with when you first met her.”

“I’d met her for the first time on the 3rd of December, 1962, shuffling down a quiet sidewalk in Manhattan as dark clouds, promising to bring intense flurries, loomed overhead. She had been bundled in an easter yellow trench coat, with a matching hat, and white silk gloves. Her stockings, originally white, had been splattered with gray and brown from the icy sludge on the sidewalks. She walked faster as the clouds moved to block the sun, covering the streets in blue darkness. I love watching storms from my apartment window. There's something so relaxing about it, knowing that outside was dangerous but that I’m safe inside. I’ve loved it since I was a little boy. So, as flurries began to fall from the sky, and my building began to sway in the wind, I watched the woman huddle at a bus stop. The streets were empty, and the buses had stopped running in preparation for the storm. The paper had been warning of this great blizzard since last week, how could someone be so stupid? But as the snowfall became heavier and heavier, the woman didn't leave her spot. I realized that she’d freeze to death if she stayed out there much longer, so I grabbed my coat and scarf from my coat hanger. I remember how I ran down those stairs. Hell, I probably started skipping steps, but I didn't want to risk this woman in yellow losing her fingers. I don't really remember crossing the street to get to her, it was just a white snowy blur, but I do remember following the vibrant yellow of her jacket, like a beacon calling out to me. When I reached her, it was like time had gone into slow motion. She looked up at me with crystal blue eyes, lips, and cheeks bright red from the chill, making her freckles pop out. Red hair was neatly bobbed around her shoulders as her lips parted. I knew then that she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever see.”

“What happened that night?”

“Oh, why it was so long ago that the memories are now a bit foggy, but I remember bringing her up to that little apartment. At the time I was in my 3rd year of college, so it was the cheapest apartment I could find without needing a roommate. See as a youngster I had quite a bit of… Uhhh what do you call it today… oh yes, social anxiety. People just made me nervous, you know? Of course, it's not like this stopped me from having friends or going out, I just… liked my space. But because of this, I only had a studio apartment. So, as we got inside, I realized that I had forgotten to introduce myself. I told her my name, and she gave me the strangest look as she said ‘Isn't that a girl's name?’ and I was taken aback because… Charlie? A girl's name? I mean I know some girls these days are named Charlie but back then… Well, I'd never met a woman named Charlie. But I was so nervous that I just… Nodded. She was the last person I introduced myself to as Charlie. From then on I started going by Charles, I didn't need people thinking I was girly. She introduced herself as Millicent as she looked around the house. She opened her mouth to say something else, but a gust of wind shook the rickety window. She snapped her head towards the noise and walked towards the window. It was then that I realized I had forgotten to ask her to take her shoes off as she tracked filth across my floor, and onto my rug, as she looked out to the streets below. My pals all just… knew to take off their shoes, so I didn't know how to tell someone to take them off, or if it was even polite too. So instead, I watched her ground even more dirt into my shag carpet. Her face reflected off the glass, brows furrowed. She then turned to me and asked if I had a radio. I nodded, taking off my shoes as I walked to my kitchen to grab my little radio. As I set it on my coffee table, Millie was taking off her shoes. I asked her what to tune it to, and she said, ‘Whatever will tell me what's going on with this storm.’ so I did, KWO35 I believe it was. And so we sat and listened.

The man on the radio said that the storm was predicted to last the next four days, with little letting up. The governor put a shelter-in-place order and closed all public transportation until the storm let up. I asked her how far she lived, and she said farther than she could walk. She then asked me if there were any hotels nearby as she gathered her hat and bag. I looked at the clock, and back at her, telling her the nearest hotel was a good 15-minute walk, and that it was very late and very cold. Looking back now, I'm sure that was one of the coldest weeks in New York's history. She dipped her head, looking at her feet, before looking back at me, beautiful blue eyes boring into me. Oh, how lovely her eyes were. They sparkled in any speck of light. So full of innocence and love… but regardless, I told her that she should just stay at my apartment until the bus lines were back up. Her face flushed. ‘I don't know if that’s a good idea…’ she mumbled to me. I was speechless. Once again I was just some dorky college kid, I wasn't really good with girls. Let alone pretty ones looking all soft and sweet in my apartment, you know? But, I tried my best to make her feel comfortable. I told her that I'd sleep on the couch so she could take my bed. She refused, saying she’d just walk to the hotel. She made her way towards the door, grabbing her hat off the hat hanger, and buckling her shoes. I looked outside, to the snow furiously dropping, and then back to her. She would have died if she had tried to walk to that hotel. I knew that, she should have known that. I lunged and grabbed her hand as she screamed, tears welling up in her eyes. I was… panicked, to say the least. I didn’t mean to scare her, honest. I just didn't want a pretty girl getting hurt. But, I let her go. She grabbed her coat and walked out the door. I stood there and listened as the clicks of her heels echoed down the hallway. I don't really remember what happened after that, but I do remember that about 10 minutes later, there was a knock on the door. At that point, I was in just a robe, since I was getting ready for bed. I looked through the peephole, only to see Millicent standing there again, face red and hair dusted with melted snowflakes. I fumbled with the lock and threw the door open. Her shoes were brown and muddied, her stockings damp, and her makeup smudged.

“I couldn’t make it to the hotel…” she said, wiping her hands on her coat. I smiled and opened the door, stepping aside to let her in. The poor thing was shivering as she took off her shoes and stockings. She left them in a pile by the door as I went to grab her some warm water. When I returned, she had my ratty throw blanket huddled around her. I took it from her as I handed her the water. She looked at me confused as I walked to my room. I grabbed my best blanket from my bed, replacing it with the other one. I brought the new blanket back to her and I wrapped it around her shivering form. I gently took the hat off her head and hung it on the hat hanger. That night, she fell asleep on my couch while I was in the shower. I took the liberty of moving her to my bed, and I slept on the couch.”

“That's quite sweet, how long was she at your house for?”

“She was there for two nights. We were trapped inside because of the storm, and it just refused to let up. I had assumed that after the blizzard had stopped she would have gone to the hotel, but I was pleasantly surprised when she didn't bring it up. I cooked for us while she sat on the couch sketching the most beautiful couture pieces. So talented. She continued to take the bed, much to her annoyance. She didn't want to ‘intrude’ on me. Of course, I was more than happy to have her company. I'm typically a loner, but… oh how I adored having her with me. Those dinners I had with her, the conversations… ah it was lovely. But regardless. All things good need to come to an end, and soon, the radio announced the opening of bus lines, and she was on her way.

“So when did you first meet him?”

“The first time? Well the first time I had met Charlie, I'd been working my job as a waitress down at Barnaby’s. I'd been in high school working that job to make some spare change. Movie money you know? It paid ok, and people tipped well. He was seated in my section during the summer of… 59’ I believe, and I don't remember much, but what I do remember is that he called me Bear. Now at the time, I was very confused, but I later learned from him that he didn't mean it as in the animal, he meant it as in the berry. Like strawberries. Oh yes of course I had been called strawberry before, what ginger hasn't, but, Bear… that was new.

But you're asking about The Blizzard of 62’ right? Yes, yes, of course. I swear I'll never hear the end of it. It was my sophomore year of college, I was working to get my degree in fashion design. I'd recently been lucky enough to get an internship at Stein & Brickley, a very popular fashion label at the time. I don't believe they're still around. Such a shame. But still, I had been on my way home from my first day of work. They had kept me later than I was supposed to be there, on account of the blizzard, but I assumed that I'd be able to make it to the bus stop before they stopped for the night. Unfortunately, around halfway to the bus stop, I realized that I had left my keys at the studio. So, I ran back. In the process, I ruined my tights. Such a shame too, they were a gift from my mother. But regardless, I grabbed the keys and then went back to the bus stop. But as I was speeding there, I felt a gust of wind hit my back. I looked at the sky behind me, and it felt like the heavens were closing in on me. It's probably one of the scariest things I've ever seen to this day. So I began running, but unfortunately, my work heels didn't allow me to run very fast. Soon snow began to fall around me, and as I reached the bus stop, it was an all-out blizzard. I looked at the clock inside the stop, then looked outside. not a headlight to be seen, the streets of new york, for the first time in my life, were empty. I've never seen them that empty since. I felt like a fool. I'd known of the storm, but I didn't have the confidence to tell them I needed to leave so I didn't miss the bus. So there I sat as the sun set and the temperature dropped. Tears welled in my eyes as I realized, “Oh dear, I'll be stuck here all night.” It's not like I could walk at the time either, my apartment was in Queens.

Then, I saw a figure in the shadows of the blizzard. He looked like a mirage, a ghost. Ha, at the time, I had assumed that death had finally come to take me. But no, instead I was met by the kindest brown eyes I had ever seen. Sure, he looked like a complete fashion catastrophe with his striped scarf and his red coat, all over green plaid night pants, but I really didn't care much about the fashion sense of my hero as much as I cared about getting out of there. He reached his hand towards me, and I took it in mine, and through my satin glove, I could feel the warmth of his hand. He smiled at me, and I knew that I had come across the kindest man I'd ever meet.”

“And then what happened?”

“Well, he brought me into his apartment. It was much nicer than my place, and we stood in a beat of silence before he introduced himself, and, oh my brain must have been frozen because I heard him say Molly! And so of course I was like, “Molly? Isn't that a girl's name?” He looked a bit miffed, his cheeks puffing out, but honestly I found it a bit endearing. Regardless, the howling wind drew me towards the window, and as I looked out, in the reflection of the glass I could see Charlie looking at me. It was then I realized that I was in a man's apartment, no, a stranger's apartment with no way out in the middle of a storm… completely trapped. Not only that, I didn't know how long I'd be stuck there. My mother always told me to be careful around men, and when alone with one always keep the door open. I was also instructed to never anger them or seduce them, as that is when they get the most dangerous. I turned to him and asked if he had a radio, while also scanning his body for danger. It was then I noticed that he had his shoes off and that I had tracked sludge across his floor. So as he went to grab his radio, I quickly slipped my shoes off and sat on the couch. He asked me what to tune it to, and I kept my head down and told him that anything that had the weather would work. The radio hissed and buzzed as he cranked the little dial. It cut in and out, but I was able to grasp “Blizzard of the Century” and “3 Nights.” “doozy for the bus lines.” My heart sank as I looked back outside to the gusting winds. The last place I wanted to be was stuck in a stranger's apartment for a weekend, so I cycled through my options. Busses? Closed. Taxis? Not in service and if they were they'd be insanely expensive. Obviously, I couldn’t have walked home. Book a hotel? Well, actually that would work, but at the time I didn't know what hotels were nearby. So I asked, and he seemed rather against letting me leave his apartment, which made me nervous. Had I walked into a serial killer's house without realizing it? So I insisted, and finally, he told me that the nearest hotel, The Marley, was 15 minutes away, and then he repeated that I wouldn't be able to make it. I scoffed because, of course, he would say that if he was trying to kidnap me. So out the door, I went into the cold. Unfortunately, I had… miscalculated how cold it truly was. Now have you ever been outside in a blizzard?”

“No, I haven't.”

“Oh then let me explain. Blizzards aren't just snow, they're also ice and strong wind. And in New York, the wind is cut into channels by the buildings, making it even worse. So when you combine snow, which is ultimately solid water, and sometimes hail with wind… well it basically throws projectiles at your face. It felt like my skin was being sliced up by the snow. Worse, the wind was blowing towards me, so I was fighting with icy ground, the wind, and the biting snow. I made it five minutes out before looking down and seeing my shoes browned with sludge. At that point, I looked ahead, seeing no sign of a hotel, and decided to eat my pride and turn around before I turned into a popsicle. So I trudged back to Charlie's place. The elevator man recognized me from earlier and let me up. I sighed and knocked on Charlie's door. I heard shuffling, and then rattling as the door unlocked, revealing Charlie in a white fluffy robe. I held back a laugh as he gestured for me to come in. “I couldn't make it to the hotel,” I mumbled, taking off my shoes. Shivering, I sat on the couch, waiting to be lambasted for my stupidity. Instead, he left the room. I took a worn blanket from the couch and wrapped it around myself to stop the shivering as he returned with a cup of warm water. He looked at me for a second and took the blanket from my shoulders before disappearing into his room. He then returned with a softer blanket and laid it over my shoulders. I stayed there for the next few days, and my goodness was it fun. It was so nice having a company like that. We ate together, played games, listened to the radio, and I got a bunch of work done. Yes yes… it was so fun that I actually found myself upset when the bus lines opened up and I had to go home. I know! I was so against staying there, but then when it was time to leave I got all upset. But, I left regardless.

“So what happened once you left?”

“Well, getting back to my apartment was nice. Although my lights were on the whole time I was gone, so my electricity bill was… astronomical. But after that, I went back to my daily routine. I mean what else was there to do. In the grand scheme of things, that blizzard, those few days, were only a brief period of my life. Regardless, I got back to buisness, working my internship. Of course, my bus stop was still directly across the street in front of his apartment, so sometimes I saw him in his window, silhouetted against the yellow of his house lights. On occasion, I could catch him walking into his building. I’d wave to him, and he’d wave back, and that was the extent of our interactions. As for my internship, as I mentioned earlier, Stein & Brickley was incredibly popular at the time. They were known for their matching sets. Jackets with matching hats, shoes, gloves, and bags. Today, they're incredibly popular to buy as “vintage” pieces. Oh how strange that is, to think that clothes I may have helped design are considered “vintage.” Now, as wonderful as the clothing itself was, it was… not the best working environment. Now all fields are competitive in some way, but creative fields like design are very… dog eat dog. There are so many people who want to go into fashion or design or art, and these companies know that, so they can pick and choose from a wide pool of people with similar skill sets. Then they can figure out who will work for the least money, or who's willing to never take any vacation days. I got my internship through my professor, and I was barely getting paid, so I knew that I had to work my tush off to make sure I was constantly putting out good designs. And of course, this is without mentioning my boss. Mrs. Debfort, the lead designer of the brand. Oh, she was a spitfire. Looking back, I really admire that she had such… a strong personality at a time when soft femininity was valued. In a world full of butterflies, she was a hornet. But, that's how she climbed her way to the top. For a while, I was simply an errand runner, rushing all over the city to pick up fabric samples, coffee, lunches, or contracts. I expected to be designing pieces off the bat, not doing the jobs of an errand boy. But, regardless of my concerns, I was encouraged by my professor.

“Everyone starts out doing coffee runs, it's normal!” he said.

And maybe he was right. But I felt so stuck. What is the point of an internship if it isn't to get practice, learn about the industry, and make connections? It seemed like the only people I was connecting with were workers at the nearby coffee shop. But of course, I couldn't quit. I mean it was an amazing opportunity… Well, and I got a great employee discount. I worked in that job for a year and a half without promotion, and my god if that wasn't the most exhausting year of my life. Mostly because I was trapped within my own role. After that long as an errand girl, I once again went back to my professor and asked him if this was normal, and once again I waved off. Oh, it made me so mad. I could barely afford to exist in the city, and I was already in a crappy apartment, so I told my professor that, and I was told that I needed to be patient. But I couldn't anymore. So, I realized there was one thing I had to do. I gave that job another 6 months. 6 months to get a promotion to doing actual relevant work, or else I'd quit. My professor called me in one day near the end of the 6 months and informed me that his contact at the company had noticed that I'd been slowing down. I told him about my plan to quit, and his face flushed as he scolded me. It was the longest 5 minutes of my life. I was told that I would never make it in the industry. I was devastated, and walking out of that office I began to sob. But I was stubborn. I still am, and I decided, “Hey, these people don't know me, they don't know my skill, I can make it on my own '' and so a month before my 6 months was up, I quit. I was so scared at the time, but I wouldn’t change a thing. What quitting that job did for me was priceless.”

thats all i have for now… if you read this far i love you and also what’s your favorite color <333

10 notes · View notes

rjzimmerman · 9 months ago

Text

Do the recent or right-now-ongoing crazy global weather scare you? Bother you? Interest you?

I'm pulling this from various media sources, because there is so much crazy weather happening now, or that has happened within the last couple of weeks, it seems like no single media source is picking it up.

From Heatmap AM:

Houston’s floods – More than 400 people in and around Houston, Texas, evacuated their homes over the weekend due to flooding. At least one person, a child, was killed. In one nearby county, more than 21 inches of rain fell over five days last week. The rain has tapered off but the cleanup has just begun.

Brazil’s rain – In Brazil’s southern state of Rio Grande do Sul, days of intense rain caused the Guaiba River to overflow and flood more than 340 cities, including the region’s capital of Porto Alegre. At least 78 people are dead and more than 115,000 have been forced to evacuate. One climatologist calledthe catastrophe “a disastrous cocktail” of climate change and the El Niño effect. “It looks like a scene out of a war,” said Rio Grande do Sul governor Eduardo Leite.

Chile’s fires – Fires in Chile’s Valparaiso region, fueled by an intense heat wave and enduring drought, have killed at least 51 people and burned more than 64,000 acres.

Kenya’s deluge – Flooding and landslides in Kenya from unrelenting rainfall have killed more than 200 people. It is still raining and the weather is forecast to worsen throughout the month of May.

Southeast Asia’s heat wave – A lengthy heat wave has shattered temperature records across Southeast Asia, forcing many schools to close. One weather historian called the heat wave “the most extreme event in world climatic history.”

From the Associated Press (AP):

A weekend spring storm that drenched the San Francisco Bay area and closed Northern California mountain highways also set a single-day snowfall record for the season on Sunday (May 5) in the Sierra Nevada. The wet weather system had mostly moved out of the state by Sunday morning, but officials warned that roads would remain slick after around two feet (60 centimeters) of snow fell in some areas of the Sierra. “Did anyone have the snowiest day of the 2023/2024 season being in May on their winter bingo card?” the University of California, Berkeley Central Sierra Snow Lab asked on the social platform X. The 26.4 inches (67 centimeters) of snowfall on Sunday beat the second snowiest day of the season — March 3rd — by 2.6 inches (6.6 centimeters), according to the lab.

From Yale Climate Connections:

For the first time since the 2010s, a high-risk outlook for severe weather (level 5 of 5) has been issued for parts of the Great Plains. The outlook was put in place at 8 a.m. EDT Monday, May 6, and updated at 12:30 p.m. EDT Monday by the NOAA/National Weather Service Storm Prediction Center, as a busy few days of severe weather moved into high gear. Dozens of tornadoes could erupt by midweek, including in and near Oklahoma on Monday and across a broad swath of the mid-Mississippi and lower Ohio River valleys on Wednesday. Many of the worst tornado U.S. outbreaks of recent years have played out across the Mississippi Valley and Southeast, but multiple rounds of twisters have hammered the Plains since late April, taking at least seven lives and wreaking what will no doubt be hundreds of millions of dollars in damage.

From Wikipedia:

On 16 April 2024, heavy rains caused floods in the United Arab Emirates, affected cities of mainly Dubai and Sharjah, the northern Emirates, and different areas of the Emirate of Ras Al Khaimah. According to the National Center for Meteorology (United Arab Emirates) , this was the country's heaviest rainfall recorded in 75 years. The floods in the Emirates were a part of the greater Persian Gulf floods.

#extreme weather

14 notes · View notes

thedarkcknight · 4 months ago

Text

Day 22 The Headless Horseman (Jesse McCartney) FEM!READER

3rd Person’s Pov

On foggy nights in the small town of Sleepy Hollow, whispers of the Headless Horseman echoed through the air. Clad in dark armor, with his flaming pumpkin head clutched under one arm, he rode a black stallion through the woods, his presence striking terror into the hearts of those who dared cross his path. Yet, beyond the tales of dread, there was another story—one hidden from the fearful villagers.

One evening, as the Horseman rode through the woods, he came upon a young woman named Y/N. She was lost, her lantern barely cutting through the mist. Unafraid of the stories, she sought shelter beneath an old oak tree, humming a tune she hoped would calm her nerves. Intrigued by her gentle voice, the Headless Horseman approached her. Instead of screaming or fleeing, Y/N looked up at him, her curiosity overcoming her fear.

"Are you here to frighten me, sir?" she asked, her voice steady.

The Horseman tilted his flaming head in surprise. He lowered his pumpkin and gently placed it beside him. Through gestures, he explained his story: a curse bound him to ride each night, searching for his lost head. But something about her presence eased his restless spirit, even if only for a moment.

Y/N also found out that the headless horseman had a name in life: it was Jesse.

From that night on, Jesse would watch over Y/N from the shadows, making sure she returned home safely. As weeks passed, Y/N grew fond of her mysterious guardian. She would leave small notes under the oak tree, and he would leave trinkets in return—a feather, a polished stone, even a rose.

One evening, as the first snowfall blanketed the ground, Y/N found a message from him written in the snow: "Meet me." She followed the path he left, arriving at a clearing where Jesse stood. For the first time, he removed his armor and, through gestures and the soft glow of the moon, conveyed his wish—to know love, to feel a connection beyond his curse.

Y/N, touched by his vulnerability, stepped closer, placing a gentle hand where his heart might be. She whispered, "You don’t need a head to have a heart.”

That night, in the moonlit forest, Jesse and Y/N shared a dance—awkward yet tender, as snowflakes fell around them. And though he could never speak a word, his unspoken love for her filled the silence between them.

Over time, the curse began to weaken. The Horseman no longer rode with the same fury; his visits became gentler, more human. Y/N’s presence, he found peace. She, in turn, found a love unlike any other—one that transcended the boundaries of life and legend.

Though the villagers continued to tell their tales of the dreadful Headless Horseman, Eliza knew the truth. He was not just a figure of terror, but a lonely soul, searching for love. And with her, he found a place where he could finally rest his weary heart—even without a head to call his own.

Wrote: Me

#short story #halloween #headless horseman #jesse mccartney

2 notes · View notes

oldsalempost-blog · 28 days ago

Text

The Old Salem Post

Our Local Tamassee-Salem SC Area News each Monday except holidays Contact: [email protected] Distributed to local businesses, town hall, library. Volume 8 Issue 7 Week of January 13, 2025 https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/oldsalempost-blog Lynne Martin Publishing

EDITOR: Sending you all a warm hello after the beautiful weekend snowfall! We were blessed! Lynne R Martin

TOWN of SALEM: 5 Park Avenue Monday-Friday 8AM-5PM. Closed 12-1 for lunch. 864-944-2819 Town council meeting Tues. Jan 21 6PM. Salem Library: 5 Park Avenue Mon 10AM-6PM, Tues-Fri 9AM-5PM. Closed 12-1. 864-944-0912

Talley’s Valentines Card Project 2025: Last Year Talley Luce delivered over 795 Valentine Cards to 8 Rest Homes. She is asking for your help once again. All you have to do is make a handmade card; however, if you would like, drop it off at Salem Town Hall before February 10th. You can also drop off: Socks, Body Lotion, Pens/Colored Pencils, Lip balm, Word Search Book, a single red rose (artificial) or come up with your own idea. Just a Single Handmade Card will brighten someone’s day! MOBILE PRIMARY HEALTH CARE thru the Clemson Rural Health comes twice each month to Downtown Salem located across from the Fire Department, offering primary and acute care including chronic disease management. Jan 7th and Jan 23rd 9AM-3PM. Walk-in or call 864-656-3076.

Eagle Alumni 3rd Annual Reunion: Sat, March 1, 2PM-5PM the Salem/Tamassee-Salem and Eagle Ridge alumni will reunite and visit their beloved school grounds. Call your classmates to meet up for a reunion! Call Judy Hines at 864– 557-0869 or Susan Hopkins at 864-247-4622 for more information.

Jottings from Miz Jeannie by Jeannie Barnwell Lazy Woman's Cure for Clutter! Have you eyed your heaps and piles of extraneous possessions? Year after year do these piles expand along with the dread you experience when visitors snoop around your home? I am the first born daughter of a mama who lived through the Great Depression. She saved EVERYTHING. I admit to following my mama's example in the same manner that baby ducks gleefully model the behaviors of their mothers. (It's called imprinting.) These are the trends for 2025: Spotlessly cleaned countertops; Sparce selections of coordinated clothing hanging in the closet: You get the picture. I am delighted to share a surefire technique to de clutter. GET A PUPPY. This is my seventh COLLIE named STARLIGHT, and the most lovably destructive canine on planet Earth. My normal response is to SAVE EVERYTHING to give to relatives or charities. That is a lot of effort! When guests are coming, I inevitably cram the bounty of give-aways under a bed or in a closet and forget about them. NO MORE OF THAT! Most of the time, the recipients of my generosity decline to accept my gifts, anyway. STARLIGHT #7 has streamlined my de cluttering efforts! She is happy to indiscriminately chew up every item that is not placed atop the mantel. I've read tons of books on De-Cluttering. The Get-A-Puppy Initiative is the only method that works for me! Miz Jeannie LOVES YOU LOTS!!! (I write you a letter every week full of good advice: GET A PUPPY!) MIZ JEANNIE

ASHTON RECALLS by Ashton Hester REGINA EDNEY CROWNED "MISS LEGEND" IN 1984 (The following story was in the November 21, 1984 Keowee Courier). . .Regina Edney, a senior at Tamassee-Salem High School, was crowned Miss Legend at the recent 1984-85 Miss Legend beauty pageant held in the high school gym. . .Tammy Galloway was named Miss Senior, and Jamie Moore received the Miss Congeniality award, which was voted on by her fellow senior contestants. . .Other winners were as follows:. . .Miss Junior, Robin Herms; runner-up, Joan Campbell. . .Miss Sophomore, Kim Crowe; runner-up, Loretta Holcombe. . .Miss Freshman, Rhonda Revis; runner-up, Kelly Ray. . .Miss Junior High, Karen Collins; runner-up, Denise Crowe. . .Miss Upper Elementary, Nicole Tilson; runner-up, Katrina Moss. . .Miss Lower Elementary, Julie Smith; runner-up, Nicole Kelley. . .Little Miss Legend, Leesa Oliver; runner-up, Jessica DeMont. . .The master of ceremonies was Mr. Dennis Smith of Easley, who has served as master of ceremonies for the Miss South Carolina pageant and many city and county pageants. . .The pageant was sponsored by The Legend staff, Mrs. Martha K. LeCroy, Advisor.

JOCASSEE VALLEY BREWING COMPANY,(JVBC) & COFFEE SHOP* 13412 N Hwy 11 Hours: Wed–Sat 9am-9pm & Sunday 2pm-7pm ( winter hours ) Events this week: Wed: BLUE GRASS JAM 7PM. You may bring your own food. Thurs: PALMETTO TRAIL TALK 6:00PM You may bring your own food. Fri: Food: BLUE RIDGE GRILL Music: MARSHALL GOERS BLUES 6:30PM Sat: Food: BLUE RIDGE GRILL Music: BIG EYES PARKER 6:30PM Sun: 2pm-7pm

EAGLES NEST ART CENTER Located 4 Eagle Lane, Salem SC 29676 2025 UPCOMING EVENTS Oconee Mountain Opry, Saturday, January 18 at 7PM- ENAC will host performers Finkelstien 3, Rachel Van Slyke, and Cody Gentry & Lauren Link. You will enjoy the high energy bluegrass of Finkelstein 3 from Hendersonville and Shelby NC areas, the beautiful sounds from Rachel Van Slyke, singer-songwriter who travels from Nashville to the west coast, and the Americana/Country music of Cody Gentry & Lauren Link. Tickets $10 online or can be purchased at the door the day of the event. Come early to enjoy homemade concessions, coffee, hot chocolate, hot tea, and visit our Treasure Store. Doors to the auditorium will open at 6:30PM for general admission. Come and experience a real community of musicians in a wonderful old school auditorium.

Women Encouraging Women, Saturday, February 1, 1PM-4PM A woman’s afternoon retreat. Invite your friends, sister, mother, and anyone you think would enjoy an encouraging and uplifting afternoon filled with worship, sharing stories of faith, craft and fellowship time with refreshments followed by our wonderful speaker, minister, friend, and former teacher, Martha Loftis Watson. No admission fee but donations are welcomed. 2025 Ongoing Events Treasure Store open every Saturday 9AM-12PM To donate call 864-557-2462. Eagles Nest Senior Exercise Program: Join friends to exercise at the Eagles Nest Art Center! Classes each Tuesday and Thursday mornings at 9:30AM –10:30AM geared for beginners and 55 plus. Cost $2.50 each class you attend. For information call 864-280-1258 Name a Seat Opportunities: Call Darlene 864-710-8758 YOUNG APPALACHIAN MUSICIANS– Cost is $50 each month. 3rd grade through adult. Call 864-280-1258 OPUS TRUST ARTIFACTS at ENAC: OPUS Trust is a 501c3 nonprofit dedicated to saving open land, farm land, historic sites and history. Come visit a new item on display courtesy of Eugene Rochester. The Tripod vintage camera took pictures all over our county since the 1940s. Open prior to ENAC events and for appointments. CHURCH NEWS Bethel Presbyterian Church (PCUSA), 580 Bethel Church Rd Walhalla, 29691. Worship at 10:30 a.m. Message: January 19 Mel Davis, Paul Chudzik will give the message on January 26. Community Women’s Monday Bible Study at 10am in the Fellowship Hall of Salem Methodist Church. Church Prayer Group 11:15 - 12:00 noon following Bible Study on Monday mornings at Salem Methodist Church. ALL are welcome even if you don't attend Salem Methodist Church. Prayer is a blessing from God for everyone. Blessings, Sandy Steblin

BUSINESS HIGHLIGHTS Talk of the Town Beauty Salon and American Defense Manufacturing Company, downtown Salem, 174 E Main St.: Firearms, Ammo, Fishing Supplies, Gifts, Antiques and More: Tu, Th-Sat 8am-5pm

Dawn’s Hair Design: 324 Palomino Farm Dr. Salem SC 864-710-7380 Hair on Main - 150 Hinkle Circle, Salem 864-944-2244 Habanero’s Mexican Grill 8211 N Hwy 11 Tamassee Open Sunday-Saturday 11am-supper time... PAT’S CASH AND CARRY: Best Hot dog in the Upstate and more! Ice Cream! 944-1445. Mon-Sat 11-7 Mister and Missy’s Hair Salon: located beside the Tamassee DAR Thrift Store: 864-944-8732

Quik Stop– Gas station downtown Salem. Great biscuits and sandwiches on the go.

Sisters Restaurant: Call 944-8100 Open Wed – Sat breakfast and lunch. Sunday Brunch TAMMY’s BEAUTY NOOK: 864-638 –6581 335 Burnt Tanyard Road

PRIORITY ONE GRADING: Septic tanks, Water lines, Land clearing and more. Call 864-903-3458

Whatsoever is good...think on this! LRM

0 notes

fortleegospel · 1 year ago

Text

Gospel News - February 28, 2024

Dear friends and members of Fort Lee Gospel Church,

I trust you have enjoyed the first real snowfall in a couple of years. It is beautiful to watch and some work to dig out. I plan to address three topics briefly: St. Valentine’s Day, Lent, and the Annual Members Meeting:

St. Valentine’s Day

Wednesday, February 14th is St. Valentine’s Day. A day to celebrate romantic love named after a Christian martyr from the 3rd Century. It is believed that a Bishop of the church named Valentine was executed in Italy on February 14, 269 AD. The church has honored his memory since at least the 5th Century.

We are all in different places with ‘romantic love.’ Long relationship, new relationship, conflicted relationship, happily single, reluctantly single, or in transition. Regardless of our place in life, the Bible has much to say about love. I John 4:8 says, “Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.” God is ‘love’ and God teaches us to ‘love.’

The first Century Greek language uses different words for love. A simple definition of Greek words for love are: eros – sexual or romantic love, storge – family love, philos – friendship love, and agape – giving love. A passage that uses three of these Greek words (except eros) is Romans 12:9-10:

9 Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. 10 Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.

It is time for the church to show society what true love looks like. Our love for one another should make non-Christians desire what we have. Jesus raised the standard of love when He taught in Matthew 5:43-47:

43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. 46 If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? 47 And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?

We are called to radical love. We need God’s help to love as we are called to love. I pray Paul’s prayer for all of us in this season of love: “And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight.” (Phil. 1:9)

Lent

Ash Wednesday is also this Wednesday, February 14th, and it is the start of the Lenten season.

The main concept of Lent is setting aside 40 days (actually 46 minus the 6 Sundays before Easter) to prepare for the celebration of Easter. The disciplines of giving up something or adding a spiritual practice prepares us for Passion Week; when Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, died on Good Friday, and rose on Resurrection Sunday.

There are four themes associated with the Lenten season. The first and best-known theme is that it is a time of giving up some food or pleasure. A second theme is to stop a bad habit during Lent (and hopefully beyond). The third theme of Lent is to add spiritual disciplines to our lives, such as added prayer or Bible study. The last theme of Lent is to add a charitable or compassion ministry to our usual routine.

Fasting was a common practice in the early church and throughout the history of the church. Daniel fasted by only eating fruit and vegetables. Jesus and others went without food for a 40-day period. Modern times has added forgoing various pleasures in the name of fasting such as social media, TV, desserts, or meat.

Fasting can include health benefits and strengthen character. As Proverbs 25:28 says, “Like a city whose walls are broken through is a person who lacks self-control.” Galatians 5 tells us that one of the fruit of the Holy Spirit is self-control. Resisting physical hunger strengthens us to say no to ungodly hungers that tempt the believer to sin.

There are many practices you can do to get closer to Christ in preparation for Easter. Consider increasing your daily Bible reading schedule. You may want to dedicate added time for prayer. You may spend time memorizing a chapter of the Bible during Lent. One idea may be to skip a regular TV program or time on your phone and take that hour to read your Bible and pray. Consider joining a friend or family member to study Scripture and pray together.

Visiting the needy or helping a worthy cause is a great way to prepare for Easter. It might be a good idea to take the kids to a nursing home and have them learn about various needs in our culture.

Be encouraged to take time in the 40 days of Lent this year to strengthen your faith and draw closer to Jesus. God says in Psalm 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God.”

Annual Members Meeting

This Sunday, February 18th we will hold our Annual Members Meeting after the worship service. The meeting is open to all but only members can vote. We will reflect on 2023 and look forward what God has for us in the coming year. We are encouraged by God’s working among us, and we thank God for both those who have journeyed with us for many years and those who are newer to our fellowship.

The church is God’s means to showing love to a lost world. In the language of I Peter 2:9-10,

9 But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. 10 Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

May God help Fort Lee Gospel Church live up to this high calling. Pray along with us to that end.

-Pastor Rick

Weekly Announcements

Sunday worship services at 11:00 AM continue to be livestreamed on our Fort Lee Gospel Facebook page, YouTube channel, and our website, www.fortleegospel.org. We meet in the building where we include a time of worship after the online portion of the service.

The Tuesday Men’s Lunch and study meets at the church at 12:30 PM.

The Tuesday Bible Study meets at 7:00 PM weekly. We have started studying the book of Romans.

The 6:00 AM Prayer Meeting on Wednesdays and Saturdays is at the church with an option to connect on Google Meet.

The Women’s Bible Study meets on alternating weeks including this Saturday, February 17th at 2:00 PM. After completing a study from the book of Revelation, the group will start a new study this week from the book of Ephesians.

The monthly Church meal after the worship service is Sunday February 25th.

Connect info for Tuesday Bible Studies and Morning Prayer is:

Meeting URL : https://meet.google.com/suk-xpsf-nwh

For dial in: Phone: +1 567-351-1104 PIN: 469 349 929#

0 notes

pennedbylisse · 1 year ago

Text

OPERATION CUPID | ep. 2

ep. 1 | ep. 3 |

wc: 4.4k

tracklist: 'halley's comet' by billie eilish

tense and POV: present and 3rd person

OPERATION CUPID Classified Excerpts

Jimin holds his phone at head-level and poses for what appears to be a selfie amidst an empty diner.

He attempts for it to be discreet, something dismissible by Namjoon marching to and fro.

The tall and broad man is far too preoccupied with restocking to notice the camera lens purposefully aimed at his frame, over Jimin's shoulder. It's not unlike him to become so hyper-fixated on a task that he blurs the surroundings. His eye sight is healthy, but prone to tunnel-vision.

It's a slow day at Halley's - has been such for a number of weeks now. What normally would be Wednesdays, which passed on as slow as molasses with the arrival of two, five, ten (if lucky) clients, had now ulcerated into slow weekends.

To a company, there's nothing as frightening as a slow Friday evening.

False comforts could be summed up with the phrase "Snow Season is the Slow Season” which they would recite to one another in the stillness. An acknowledgement of the fleetingness of seasons. A promise for a better tomorrow, of hope for prosperity somewhere in the vast horizon.

And, like the old remedy of honey for a sore throat, it would do the trick. It would soothe their unease long enough for the skies to darken, which during the winter isn't long at all.

Only the hours of daylight have started to extend with each day that's strikethrough on the calendar hung up on the wall, the chill in the weather easing with grace. There hasn’t been snowfall in weeks.

Economic discrepancies have started to become pervasive - like cracks on a ceiling letting in rain. Drips amassing to puddles on the tile floor.

They can be ignored and evaded until you misstep and slip, landing on your tailbone, forced to face the truth of the matter. To hold its weight in its entirety and try not to cave in under the gravity.

It’s not for a lack of trying. Namjoon is as analytical as he is determined, and there’s no one more appropriate to run the diner, but even with his creative solutions, progress is scarce.

Even if he were to lay out and repurpose a hundred kitchen containers to catch the flood, the persistent dripping would continue to echo the unspoken worries. Enough to drive anybody mad with the promise of overflow, of nearing a point of no return, a snapping point.

Problems keep materializing out of thin air, new cracks being torn across the ceiling, water dripping less sporadically, more consistently. Namjoon's having a hard time keeping the tally, though he doesn't let it show past the long hours he subjects his body to.

He justifies the severe degree of self-sacrifice and self-discipline with the generalization that such is the life of a small business owner. His grandparents, when at their prime, had made it seem almost easy.

It's been rough attempting to fill in their shoes over the past couple of years. Namjoon can't get over the feeling that he's drowning all the time.

He wonders if it'll always feel like this. If there will ever come a point where he could recline with a long-held exhale of relief, long enough to take in the progress made before diving back to tune-up the fine details.

Norah, who is significantly more discreet than Jimin, disguises her phone with her half-opened hardcover book. Though, it should be said, that in preoccupying herself with the perfect cover-up, she’s neglected the fact that her phone is not muted.

She cringes at the click of a captured image, slides down her phone along the textured surface of page 122, to collect on her lap. Shrinks into herself and apologetically bows her head in Jimin’s direction. Today, she could be the sole reason the operation blows.

Making a quick adjustment in correction, she places pressure on the metal button along the frame of her phone. The device's vibration is muffled on her lap.

But it's too late to salvage the situation.

Namjoon's head is turned her way. His analytical gaze narrows on her figure.

She turns a page, making note she'll have to go back to actually read its contents much later, when her ears aren't burning, her mind not racing.

Momentarily peering up over the frame of the book, she realizes Namjoon's gaze has laxed and lifted to look over her figure. It then rounds across the diner, sliding swiftly over vacant tables and unclaimed stools.

He stalls over Jimin, who's drawing circles over the spotless surface of a table with a tattered rag. Admittedly, the rag's in poorer condition than the table.

Namjoon's eyes narrow for a second before he averts his attention back to the task at hand - attempting to open a shipment box without slicing his fingers with the carton-cutter blade.

Nearing closing time, upon completing inventory, Norah's loading a cardboard box into a crowded storage closet. A skinny, crammed little thing with enough shelves to be repurposed for climbing like a ladder.

Her hands slowly retract around the edges of the box. She gently and measuredly presses her weight against the better half that still protrudes off the shelf, thrusts her hips once, twice, until it it shoves into place with a sigh.

Once secured, she claps her hands to rid them of gathered dust and backsteps out of the closet, all the while, maintaining her gaze fixated on its silhouette, cautious and apprehensive.

Barely blinking, her brows furrow with worry as she imagines her efforts collapsing forward onto the tiles, the contents of the box exploding. Pictures how that single disturbance could potentially bring down the rest of the crowded shelves toppling over her.

She makes herself small under the imagined outcome, rounds her shoulders into a make-shift shield, just in case.

Though her backsteps are light and delicate, she clumsily collides with something solid.

The sudden contact causes her to flinch and further shrink in on herself. Her eyes, now, though squinted half-shut from the surprise, remain cast on the wobbly shelf. The snagged and rusted nails holding it together.

Repeatedly, mantra-like, she whispers, pleads "Stay, stay, stay..."

Suspecting she'd made an error in her stepping, but without turning to confirm, she glides her booted foot towards the right and gradually shifts her weight over it, continues to retreat, but again collides with an opposing force. It's no longer startling, more of a source of great frustration.

Her suspicion grows at the coincidence of striking the force once more, and that's when her mental focus on the shelf wanes long enough for her to grow aware of the characteristically animate warmth flanking her.

A warm breath makes itself known on her nape, the way morning mist hovers glass blades during dawn. Only less graceful. It sputters.

Hurriedly, she swivels to find Jimin dissolving into a snicker, cheeks flushed rosy, the way she would envision a mischievous cherub. Love incarnate.

In this intimate proximity, her focus starts to blur. She no longer holds the image of the toppling shelves center focus, rather it obscures and falls out of frame. Replacing it are his lips, plump, round, bottom-favoring, which her gaze sporadically flutters back and forth from.

With a face commanded with startle, brows rounded and raised, eyes widened, she retreats back into the closet she'd originally been trying to escape from.

Contrarily, Jimin encroaches. He's fluid and swift, as he always is. The way he makes any interaction into choreography, contemporary lyricism. While she's solid and stiff like stone, he can't bear to be more opposite.

It seems a bit contradictory, but water holds a natural power over stone. With enough exposure, it starts to erode, to cave, to part.

Norah's frightened he's too similar to water. Too fluid. That she's eroding under his influence. It sends alarms blaring loudly within her. Abort. Flee. Escape.

Jimin lightly places a graze on her torso, in a way that's meant to reassure, and comfort, and somehow gauge a response all at once.

His gaze dances between her wide eyes, further gauging as he shuts the door behind him, albeit with a lack of gentleness compared to the way he holds her.

Norah flinches as though the slam physically hurts her when its brunt echo rattles the shelves immediately behind her and distresses dormant dust above.

It falls over her like snow.

Briefly, Jimin becomes captivated by the sight. The flurry specks dancing in the cone of light of the single bulb hanging overhead. Cascading and collecting on the top of her head.

Her round watchful eyes cast upwards at him.

The absolute privacy offered by the space. The knowledge that he'd only need to take one stride forward to be flushed against her.

It's brief, the moment, abruptly interrupted by the croak of her voice "What are you doing here?"

He clears his throat, moment gone, and digs something out of the pocket of his black apron.

An envelope.

"I did something bad."

"What? How bad?"

"It depends," he shrugs slowly, not very convincing of his innocence in the matter. Really resembles a turtle secluding into its hard shell. He wouldn't feel the need to hide if he didn't doubt his character in the moment. If he didn't suspect a scolding. "From some perspectives, it's bad, from others it's good. So I guess it depends on how you look at it."

"And, just what perspectives are those?"

"Bad-" The envelope tucked between his arm and torso, he mimics the plates of a weight-scale, cupping air in both hands on either side. He tips their height as he speaks. "- for the Namjoon that's self-sufficient and oblivious to our plan. Good - for the Namjoon who secretly wants - needs - help but can't bring himself to ask."

She holds out her hands expectantly. Attempts to assess the damage.

He places the envelope in her hold. Its face sports elegant cursive. A flower-pattern stamp on its upper corner. Exudes an aroma of lilies and something sweet like pastries. Its hem has been cleanly sliced through.

Hurriedly, as if their minutes of privacy are counted, she unfolds a letter through the cleanly sliced margin atop the envelope. Her eyes race across the page. "This is bad, Jimin."

"It's bad?" He braces a hand on his hip, feeling the sudden-onset of queasiness with the knife of guilt twisting further into his gut. "So bad-bad? As in bad from all perspectives?"

She nods, but continues to skim the writing.

"Ah, shit." He rakes his other hand through his hair, tossing it out of his sight and coming it back. "I only stepped into his office for the keys to lock the back door. I caught sight of it. My hands were on it before I could will myself against it. I couldn't put it back down, tormented with curiosity."

"Well, you should've." Concluded, she folds the letter back on its creases, stuffs it back into the snug envelope.

"That's when I heard him approach, so I panicked. When he opened the door, I stuffed it into my pocket - pure instinct - so that he wouldn't see me holding it and suspect something."

He means to pace, but the space is limited. Instead, he braces both arms against a shelf. Needs to feel reminded of something sturdy, stable, lest he hurl.

"I meant to return it, I really did. The longer I held it, I just couldn't help but think how useful it could be to know what's inside. A means to ensure both ends of communication coincide. To make sure the staged Namjoon social media discussions aren't mentioned in the letters. To...to...-" He's stammering for justifications but falling short. "Knowing what sort of things they talk about could make our play of him more like the real thing, right?"

Norah shuts her eyes and hangs her head, arms limp by her sides. "You have to dispose of it. He can never find out." She hates to rob Namjoon of the contents he likely never got to read. Hates to make this a ripped page of their love-story.

"But, why?" He turns to face her. "I could just shove it beneath the stack he keeps atop his desk."

"Namjoon rarely sponsors the impractical." Her eyes flutter open. She traces the sliced margin for punctuation. "He uses his nimble fingers to slice through his envelopes. He's haphazard, like that. Thinks it more genuine, more lived. Thinks it impractical to invest in a piece of metal whose sole purpose is to slice paper, only to misplace it when he knows he could just pop a kitchen drawer open and find the same thing, or use his fingers."

"He might not notice," he's dubious to her argument. "He's got enough things on his mind to not notice."

"Do you really want to take the chance?"

He resumes his squared position against the shelf. Feels a dense lump materialize in his throat. Tries to swallow it back, expecting the nausea to wane.

Norah voices his conscience, "We are playing with hearts here. Are you sure you want to continue?"

She can voice her loud opinion all she wants in a bid to sway him towards a desirable response, but she doesn't. She vows to be his willing accomplice.

The thing is that Jimin is more similar to Namjoon than either care to recognize. They are both over-workers with too much piled over their plates to notice the grapes that roll off the edges, bouncing on the floor by their dashing feet.

Jimin wants to find Namjoon someone to lean on.

Norah wants to be that for Jimin. It's not a spoken thing. Frankly, it might not even be that obvious to Norah herself. She just finds herself tangled up with him in the self-made chaos. Finds it good reason enough for it to be for him.

"I mean good, Nor. I really do."

"I know you do. It's just a dangerous game we’re playing. I want you to be conscious of that."

"I am."

As a consequence of being a college drop-out, who stayed complacent in his small hometown, and knocked up the first girl he ever developed feelings for, Jimin juggles two jobs on the regular, a means to an end, to adjoin paychecks with the demands of life.

He'd juggle three if sleep weren't collecting interest, indebting him at an exponential rate.

The kind of fatigue that has no decency in waiting until your face collides with the cool pillow at night. The kind that commands and gets what its due whenever, wherever, however.

Mondays through Thursdays he works at Halley's, then rushes home to spend quality time with his daughter, run groceries, comply with the daily upkeep of home and its chores.

On the weekends, when he gets off Halley's - around 5 PM - he boards the public shuttle to bartend at a local bar. That bar shift runs until midnight, sometimes later, depending on the need for coverage, and the willingness to sacrifice a couple hours of sleep for a healthy tip.

Tonight, he's heavy with fatigue, sleep debt compounded in his brain, slowing the traffic of thoughts, comprehension. Still, he doesn't let it show past the obvious taxes on his physique - sunken dark circles beneath the eyes, small capillaries angered against their whites.

He sighs, "Hey," mirroring Norah's greeting from across the apartment. Locks the door behind him with a symphony of clicks and strolls her way in a practiced sequence.

In a way that resembles a paper being folded by the grooves and creases into origami, the edges of his mouth fold into a kind, but tired smile. The kind of paper that's been folded enough times to near tearing at the next crease.

Norah's hands are steady and delicate, as is her tone. "Tired?"

"I'm ok." He always says that, though, and always drifts into deep sleep right next to her on the couch, laptop still laid on his lap.

"Should we call it a day? We can always raincheck."

"It's nothing a shower can't fix." He shakes his head, hair stirring over dim eyes. A sudden yawn commands his mouth.

Unfolding her legs and draping them over the edge of couch, she starts up. "I'll start whipping something up to keep us awake."

As she clicks the switch of the kitchen lights, and bathes in the sudden flash of illuminance, she hears the thud of Jimin's knees against the wood floor accompanied with a long-drawn sigh, "My baby Byeol."

He flushes the bridge of his nose against the plump cheek of the baby. Inhales the untarnished scent of youth, of purity, of her hypoallergenic bodywash.

He realizes he'd been wrong earlier.

A shower wouldn't fix anything, but this, this little creature could dismiss all the ache in his joints, lax all the tension held in his muscles.

"You finish that set of monarch earrings?" Jimin tosses a towel over his head, grips at the frayed ends on his nape, on his forehead, extracting excess moisture. The excited drops splatter onto the collar of his sweatshirt.

Norah lays Byeol into her crib. Combs the silky, floss-like hair at the top of her head. Grabs a baby monitor radio from the adjacent nightstand.

"Most of it-" she bites a yawn." Only need to take pictures and edit them for upload."

A sudden pop emanates from his knees as soon as Jimin crouches by the coffee table of his living room. The wooden face of it is superimposed by clutter - Byeol’s enrichment toys, baby bottles, two different sets of binkies, unopened mail, uncategorized purchase receipts and jewelry beads.

Norah joins him, resting her weight on knees that will quickly grow sore. Starts picking at the clutter, shrinking it item by item, starting with her jewelry-making kit.

The click of the colored bead collapsing into its plastic compartment resounds through the quiet space. It grows dense, shies away from echoing, the more beads are added.

Jimin tears an envelope and is reminded of the day’s earlier events. Of prying open the private exchanges of Namjoon and his pen-pal girl. Parallels, only he’s not as ginger with his water bill as he was with his friend’s heart. Instead of slicing it thinly with a blade, he digs one finger into the cleft on the edge and rips haphazardly, mentally guessing how high it’ll be this month.

He’s got his brows creased into a pinch that resembles the one at the collar of his laundered shirt. He’d always ensure to prioritize keeping up with laundry, the same could not be said about folding and sorting the laundry. Too much like Sisyphus's burden. Instead, he’d let the laundry pile on the drying racks.

They’d be stale and stiff by the time he got around to claiming them. But at least they no longer reeked.

Lips into a robust pout, his eyes skim the content of the letter. Quickly, urgently, not bothering to hone in on the formal headers. They land on the end of the page resolutely. He holds the amount in his vision for a second, two, shuts his eyes with the raise of his brows, and folds down the letter like an accordion. Insert it back into its envelope.

His figure is cast in the indiscreet yellow light from the ceiling fixation. It pours over him like honey. Its shadows casted onto the sunken spaces of his under eyes.There’s a flurry of freckles over the bridge of his nose. Partly from age, partly from the sun, and partly genetic in origin.

Though tired, his hands are steady while collecting and assorting beads. Helping her with the burden.

They huddle up on the couch once things are assorted into semi-coherent piles on the coffee table.

Norah made iced lattes to power through. From prior experience, she knows the high will only last until about 3:30 AM, which isn't too far off. So if they want to make any progress on this Namjoon operation, they have to hone in focus. Short bursts of significant productivity.

It's hard to, though, when sleep seems so much more enticing. When Jimin's warmly pressed into her side. When all she wants is to rest her head on his shoulder and let her eyelids droop.

Moisture clings to the pads of Jimin's stubby fingers from having held his drink. He mindlessly wipes them onto his shirt. Resumes impatiently pressing keys on the old laptop, attempting to start it up from the depths of inactivity.

Its every inch is covered with stickers and logos accumulated through the years. Within ten minutes, it starts to burn Jimin's lap.

He positions a cushion beneath it to remedy the problem, just as the loading circle disappears and the screen finally illuminates with the home screen.

Opening a search engine, he navigates to Instagram. Namjoon's new social profile. He'd hurl if he came to know, having been against the capitalist agenda shoved down throats by brands and trends there.

Ironically, he's a part of that capitalist economy. Makes a living off convincing people to purchase his (food) service. But he'd argue he's in the business of selling an experience, of cultivating memories, not in the greedy selling of an overpriced product.

Maybe the diner would be better off if he would only bend down, comply with the trends of the modern day, learn the language of the 21st century.

"But that's exactly what I want to gift people," he'd say, caught in the passion of his mission, eyes glassed over and distant. "Nostalgia. Pre-internet innocence. The antiquity of a used book in your hands, the texture of the stained parchment. The raw sound of a record on a turntable. The crackle of the jukebox as soon as the coin descends into its slot. Something they can only experience and live, not fabricate on their phones."

As the puppet masters, Jimin and Norah's jobs are to funnel the connection between Namjoon and his mystery girl. Act like catalysts for something that's been building at a a snail's pace over the course of months through letters. Though romantic, indirect and impractical, so Jimin views it.

He'd attempt to establish a connection with mystery girl via direct messages. Arrange for a date where her only job is to show up. Namjoon would be there, oblivious. He hasn't quite figured out the specifics of it like how exactly he'd manage to declaw Namjoon from his busy schedule long enough to take time for himself, for being idle, for exploring the town. Or how he'd keep him from turning around after catching on to the situation.

"We'll cross that bridge once we get there."

"What do we do tonight, then?" Norah sips her drink. Places it back on the ring of moisture on the coffee table. It's starting to take effect. A heat unfurling and holding in her chest, quickening her pulse. Thoughts materializing in her mind faster than she can keep track of the streams of reason.

"We start uploading the pictures we've taken of him. Make his profile believable. But not all at once because then it would seem too much like a spam account."

"This may sound entirely evil and conniving, but what if we upload a quote from the book they mentioned in the letter you tore-"

He gawks.

"You know what you did," she scolds him with a stern look that makes him shift his attention back onto the screen.

"For someone who holds herself on a high moral horse, you sure seem experienced. Hidden mastermind in there, huh?"

"Respecting your friend's privacy is not high morality. It's basic knowledge." She flicks his forehead with her middle finger.

"Alright!" he throws his head back against the couch. It rebounds lightly against the cushion. He'll never live that down. "I fucked up. I shouldn't have even stepped into the office. I should have left the back door open for anyone to sneak in."

Baby Byeol's fast asleep on the monitor propped up on the table across from the couch. Chest rising and falling in a steady but swift pace. Tiny little set of lungs working hard through the night.

The coffee is now more parts water than caffeine or milk. The contents diluted by melted ice. They'd meant to finish it, just as they'd meant to upload at least two posts, but their eyelids had grown leaden with slumber.

Norah had spiraled down a rabbit hole on the internet trying to find the perfect book quote to caption the first post.

Jimin's wrist had grown sore flexed over the keyboard. His lap had become sensitive to the heat of the cushion and the ancient machine. He'd repositioned it onto the seat beside him and their necks started to hurt instead.

Now it's possibly the darkest hour of night. The pitch-black stillness caught between dusk and dawn. Not a single sound of the activity of civilization making itself known, not even a stray car whirring outside the front windows.

Only the soft breath of Jimin on Norah's cheek.

Dimming the brightness on her phone, she confirms the time she'd suspected. Attempts to stir out of his hold without interrupting his sleep. She has to her benefit the fact that he's a deep sleeper, and that sleep's collecting its debt.

Just as she thinks she's about to get away, slip out the front door with the swiftness of a night-cloaked thief, there comes a gentle tug at her wrist.

"Stay," Jimin's voice croaks, all groggy and thick with rest. "It's too dark. Too late. Sleep here."

"That will be the third night this week. I need to visit home. Shower."

He stirs, propping his weight onto his elbow to make sure he doesn't let his eyes drift shut before he convinces her to stay. Sure, this conversation might seem hazy like a dream, ambiguous as to whether its real, but he won't take the risk of her leaving so late. "There's a bathroom here. Steal clothes from my closet. Just stay. Home will be there tomorrow."

Something in her stirs. Something about this exchange makes her think otherwise.

Home's here.

Home's him.

"Fine." She drops her bag from her shoulder.

Jimin smiles, eyes closed.

Slides off the couch. Sleep-drunk, he stumbles down the corridor leading to his bedroom. Norah follows.

He takes the opportunity to lean down and check on Byeol. An angel cast in the moonglow streaking in through the windows.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ i'm not entirely convinced with the last third of this chapter. might come back later and change alot of it but for now it is this or nothing.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ if you're a oth girly, and if you care to know, i realize jimin and norah's actions are reminiscent of brooke setting peyton up on lustfactor in S2 and i think it's hilarious that oth is bleeding into my subconscious from how much i rewatch it

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ shoutout to that clever army that once pointed out how jimin was made out of love and not a quick nut. sista, you were speaking facts!

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ the ode to jimin continues >>

1 note · View note

thecavavoice · 2 years ago

Text

Eleventh Atmospheric River Since December Hits California

by Mariel S.

“Rainfall totals exceeding six inches are possible across portions of Central and Northern California through this event.” -Haley Brink, CNN (John Clement Photography)

Most of California remains under high wind advisories, winter storm warnings and flood watches as the 11th atmospheric river since late December, buffeted devastated communities yet again.

The latest flood and weather warnings went into effect on Sunday, March 12th. Weeks of severe weather have already flooded many low-lying regions and buried mountain communities in record snowfalls. The highest elevations in Southern California received up to 10 feet of snow in late February. Governor Gaven Newsom declared a state of emergency in 13 counties.

Heavy snow has collapsed roofs and stranded residents and motorists. Repeated rainfall in the same areas has raised concerns of additional flooding due to snow melt. As of March 14th, over half of the state was under high wind warnings, flood watches and weather advisories.

“Rainfall totals exceeding six inches are possible across portions of Central and Northern California through this event,” reported CNN Meteorologist, Haley Brink.

The California Department of Water Resources (DWR) began releasing water from the main Oroville Dam spillway on March 10th. According to the agency, “to better manage storm runoff entering Lake Oroville.”

DWR director Karla Nemath released a statement on March 3rd, saying that these weather events have had positive effects as well. “The recent storms combined with the January atmospheric rivers, have contributed to an above-average snowpack. That will help fill some of the state’s reservoirs and maximize groundwater recharge efforts.”

Governor Newsom issued an executive order to “enable local water agencies and other water users to capture water…to recharge state groundwater supplies,” according to the Governor’s Office. The CAVA Voice reached out to learn how the recent storms have affected the student body. Of students surveyed, 30% indicated that the storms have impacted their ability to “do school.”

Senior Max R. told The Voice that the storms “took up my weekend to have to deal with flooding. I wasn't able to take a break and my grades have dropped since.”

Student Peyton C. said that the storms “have left my area very cold and wet. My electricity behaved strangely at nighttime. Lights and appliances kept turning off and on. I hoped that the power wouldn’t go out during the day when live classes are happening.”

Senior Luis G. stated that “The recent snow storms have caused my Wi-Fi to exponentially slow down, [along with] multiple technical difficulties…[including] slow response times by K-12 technical support.”

Junior Breanna T. explained that the cold weather impacted her motivation and mental state. “I found it hard to concentrate in class since the cold weather made my mood and energy low, I just wanted to stay in bed,” she said.

As the latest storms tear through California, authorities are warning residents to keep current with alerts, monitor water levels, and to avoid driving in flood-risk areas.

#by Mariel S.#news #latest issue

0 notes

snack-o-ween · 1 year ago

Text

[Image Description: The first image is a promo image for the overall event that reads "Snolidays 2023" on a red background with potion bottles strung like lights. The next four images are the weekly prompts.

1: On a blue background, 1st Week - Frost. The potion bottles are labelled with the prompts: Anticipation, Butterbeer, Woolen, Snowfall, Darkness, Humbug, and Forbidden Forest.

2: On a cream background, 2nd Week - Lights. The potion bottles are labelled with the prompts: Miracles, Sacred Fire, Hogsmeade, Hearth, Blessings, Cinnamon, and Fairy Lights.

3: On a green background, 3rd Week - Preparations. The potion bottles are labelled with the prompts: Decorations, Cookies, Mistletoe, Buffoonery, Traditions, Owl Post, and Forsaken.

4: On a purple background, 4th Week - Festivities. The potion bottles are labelled with the prompts: Feast, Family, Malice, Presents, Yule Ball, Resolutions, and Fireworks.

/End description.]

The Snolidays are back!!

The holiday season is upon us and we’re inviting everyone to partake in the Snolidays 2023 Fest! A perfect chance to revel in headcanons, have Severus demonstrate your favourite traditions, and share the holiday spirit with all of us! Winter holidays of all religions and nations are welcome and encouraged!

How it works:

Art, writing, headcanons, meta – we’d love to share all of your creations with the rest of the fandom.

In order to help spark the inspiration, we’ve chosen a theme for each of the four weeks leading up to Christmas: ‘Frost’, ‘Lights, ‘Preparations’, and ‘Festivities’.

We’ve also included 7 prompts for each week. You can combine several of them in one piece, skip the ones that don’t inspire you, or even create multiple works for a single prompt!

Don’t worry about tackling the themes in order, or about being late. In fact, if you have older winter-related works you’d like to show the Snapedom again, go ahead and send them in!

Either submit the post to our blog, or tag your own post using #snolidays2023 and #snapecelebration.

Don’t be shy about sending us any questions or requests you might have regarding the event.

Happy Holidays!

#offseason events

175 notes · View notes

obriengf · 3 years ago

Text

Winter Wonderland || Mitch Rapp x Reader

Summary : Mitch introduces you to your first snowfall during the Holiday season.

Words : 2.3k

Warnings : swearing, mild angst? couldn't help myself, sweet mitch

Notes : 3rd Installment - YAYA! Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! gif credit [unknown / x]

The crisp air of the Russian wilderness nipped at your skin as you stood on the verandah of the small wooden cabin, arms crossed against your chest to defend yourself from the chilled temperature. All that you could see was painted-white forestry as far as your naked eye could go, their branches creating the perfect cover for the shelter you were calling home for the remaining week. You would rather be at your home for Christmas - curled up in your lonely queen bed sipping from a bottle of red wine, crappy holiday television numbing your drunken mind into a deep slumber. Instead, you found yourself held up between four walls that were certainly too small with a moody Agent taking up more space than he should, and a variety of intel to help you bring down Bratva, the infamous Russian Mafia.

Silence captured you in a bubble, holding you hostage from the outside world as the secluded space your cabin occupied remained lifeless - an exception being yourself and Mitch Rapp, just as the Central Intelligence Agency intended. The near dilapidated building behind you was a safe house that only had its moment to shine when a mission in the area needed attention. You had been situated here for six days, the term 'cabin fever' becoming quite literal when all that preoccupied your mind was hunting down your current murderous target. You needed air, you needed change and stimulation. What you truly needed was a bottle of hard liquor to get you through your remaining time here, but that was far from being possible.

That's what led you to stand outside, hoping that your mind would clear itself from the upcoming migraine threatening to spill over behind your eyes. You were in a daze as you focused on the quiet wilderness in front of you, making Mitch's following footsteps seemingly unable to be detected until his frame stood tall beside your own. He could see the stress etched between your eyebrows as worry lines scarred your skin, accompanied by the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek. He recognised your frustration - he felt it before, on many different occasions - which is why he didn't press you into diving straight back into work. You deserved a break. His caramel eyes followed your gaze as they looked over the landscape, comparing the snow-speckled greenery of the trees to the grey skies above. He could easily identify this weather pattern, having learned it from his foster parents when he was fourteen.

"Looks like it's gonna snow." He hummed, matching your stance by interweaving his own arms in front of him. The widening of your eyes alerted Mitch that his words intrigued you, a minuscule smirk now playing upon his lips before he continued to gain your attention. The man cleared his throat, his weight shifting to one side of his body as his free leg stretched out in front of him. He turned his head to look at you but found your hopeful eyes still widening and already staring back to meet his pair. Mitch noticed the optimism, childlike desire boring into him as he discerned the reasoning behind your change in demeanor. The man chuckled sincerely, "You've never seen snow before? Actual snow, falling from the sky?"

Your head fell into a soft shake, embarrassment creeping up your neck and settling on your cheeks, a bright flush pinching almost immediately. Sharing your firsts, in general, was a scary task - the possibility of being judged constantly becoming a possible scenario that had to be faced. You curled in your lips and looked toward the makeshift driveway in front of you, making a noise of a saddened sigh, "Yeah, never. I get it, an Agent in her mid-twenties who has traveled the globe, and never come across any sort of snowfall? It seems highly unlikely." Your comment harnessed a playful tone despite the uneasiness, arms uncrossing to instead wring your hands in a matter of anxious fidgeting. "I'm what you call a rare case of bad timing; never at the right place when it was the right time... but it's always been a childhood wish of mine, even through all this CIA bullshit. It's one of the only things that I could keep from my old life." Shoulders lifted into a shrug, quick to sink back down before eyes returned forward.

"I think you'll be in luck. I'm no fucking weatherman or whatever, but trust me when I say that you might get that wish sorted out a little quicker than you thought."

Mitch tried to remain stoic, a trait that he wore proudly for nearly four years now, but he found it oddly impossible to move beyond caring about making you happy. 'Giving a damn' had been out of his system since he joined the agency, retribution swallowing his head and heart for a long period of time until he was finally set free. Mitch wasn't one to put human emotion at his forefront, but the way your eyes sparkled at his statement, the anticipation building and evident on the quirk of your lips... it prompted serotonin to flood his system and for you, he felt genuinely happy. It made him chuckle that for a moment, a slight peaceful moment, he forgot that on the other side of this chilly porch you were a professionally trained Assassin.

The timing could not have been more impeccable as you both remained still in silence, a gust of icy wind prickling your skin and provoking a shiver to dance up your spine. Small stars of ice began to flutter from the sky, and it felt like an odd chance of perfect coincidence. More began to fall at a faster pace, raining down over the lush green foliage surrounding you both. Your eyes were wide once more with utter starstruck from the beautiful image of fragile snowflakes decorating every inch of the scenery - it was a Christmas miracle, a reason to believe in magic, something so absolutely picturesque and stunning.

Your breath had hitched in your throat, and for a second you didn't notice, but Mitch did. He watched as your facial expressions contorted into a child-like version of yourself, even wondering if you had the smallest beads of tears gathering over your lashes before your hand wiped at your eyes. The silence was broken as you scoffed, playfulness hugging your words tightly, "You sure you're not Mitch Rapp, Meteorologist? Or are you a witch and this is one of your freaky lil spells?" Your frame turned until you were facing Mitch, your grin wide in benevolence.

"I swear that it's just coincidence! Scout's honor." Mitch's right hand pressed proudly to his chest as he laughed; a joyous sound stemming from the butterflies in his stomach, complementary to the scrunching of his nose and pinching in the corners of his warm eyes.

You couldn't help but revel in the happy noises he made - his laughter low and rumbling, but absolutely evident and wholehearted. His chest would rise and fall, head falling back, only with minimal incline, as it projected to the roof. It was hard to believe at first, but now you know, Mitch Rapp is capable of human emotion besides fury and sadness. You offered him a thankful smile as your eyes locked together, his head now nodding in acknowledgment before you ran inside. Your heavy parker as hanging on the back of the nearest armchair, material warm from the budding fireplace - one of the few things that Mitch was determined to keep alive. It was a mere few seconds until you were back out on the porch and your arms weren't even fully submerged into the sleeves yet.

You hummed, eyes shamelessly raking over your partner in his black knitted sweater and cargo pants. You clicked your tongue, looking to him in fake disapproval, "Well? Are you gonna grab your jacket or what? Come on, Rapp!"

If there had been a race for who had gotten in and out of that Cabin the quickest, it would be a very close tie with Mitch suddenly pushing back past you, a high-spirited nudge to your shoulder, and stretching out his legs in the new covering of soft snow. His smirk grew wider when you chastised him under your breath, the mock anger dissipated instantly when you felt the snowflakes gather on your rosy cheeks. They melted within half a second due to the heat of your flushed skin but were quickly replaced by more and more tiny flakes before the cycle would start again. Your heart thumped against the caging of your chest; the purity and innocence of the falling snow adorning the tips of trees and blanketing the cabin behind you only caused a warm sensation that usually isn't found in this climate, your veins spreading the welcomed feeling.

"Stick out your tongue," Mitch said, your focus breaking as you looked toward him. He was already demonstrating his suggestion, the pink muscle protruding from his mouth before he played a small game in catching the snowflakes as they fell. You complied without question, embracing the idea and savoring the experience as specks of ice decorated your own tongue. It was short-lived before a surprising intrusion of solid snow hit your side, your body shuffling forward slightly as you gasped. Foggy condensation hovered around your lips from the immense drop of temperature, the fog evaporating as your head turned within to face the perpetrator of snow. Mitch was grinning, his teeth on show proudly as he tossed up another ball of snow, catching it as if it were a baseball and he was preparing to pitch.

"You want to play a losing battle, huh? I was on the girls' softball team for most of High School. You can't outdo me." You taunted him, hands sitting with pride on your hips.

Mitch scoffed, another hearty laugh slipping past his lips and settling deep in his chest, "You're preaching to the wrong choir, Y/L/N. Scholarship at Syracuse for Lacrosse and I was the seventh-grade Baseball star in Middle School. You literally don't have a chance. I'm not just an Assassin for my day job, I'm Assassin on the sport's field too."

Your hands held in the air, a defensive gesture for your playful banter, "Okay, okay. You win, Rapp, geez. Way to make a girl doubt her snowball throwing skills. Such a gentleman."

You shook your head, amused over his attempt to joke with you. He could tell that you thought he was a moron, the way you bit your lip to hold back your near-inevitable smirk was a sure sign, and he started to feel as if he did his good deed for the day by making you smile. Mitch didn't want to break the progress already gained, but the man was curious - it was written in his blood, his skill set, his personality - the question that had been burning in his mind for just under a week sat on the tip of his tongue. But, is it worth the possible reverting of your new optimistic attitude? He took risks, it was in the job description, so what was the harm in just prying, even a little bit?

"So... I know it's Christmas in two days... you have anybody you could've spent it with back home? Missing out on some quality family time, or anything?" He looked away as the questions spilled, unsure of how you would react. He didn't know much about you, seeming that your private life was rarely exposed and often under lock and key. He was very similar on that front, but the past couple of years had taught him to let go a little, that not everybody in this large scary world is actually a bad guy. He also knew that Stan filled you in on his file before you departed for Russia, and he wanted to be the one to level the playing field.

"I don't have a family. I don't have time for a special someone. And my apartment doesn't allow pets." Was all that you said, your positive demeanor briefly slipping away to expose a cold indomitable face. Being alone allowed you to focus on your duties as an Agent, the thoughts of worry about not returning home weren't playable cards in your deck and it allowed you to not just be an Assassin but to be a deadly one. It was as if Mitch was looking into a mirror of the man he used to be four years ago - it was frightening and all-around sad.

Mitch piped up, taking a tentative step toward you, "I understand, you know. My parents died when I was young, and I haven't seen my brother in so long... I doubt he even knows I'm alive, to be honest. So, guess I'm alone too." He looked toward the nearly white trees, a deep breath sucked in, and spat back out with the same fog that surrounded you earlier.

You dared to reach out to him, your left hand gently placed over his bicep before you squeezed him tightly, reassuringly. "We can be alone together." You said with a small smile and now softened eyes that held so much admiration and passion. It was proof that Mitch Rapp could melt away the coldness that you often found entangled with your heart. An absolute miracle.

"But right after the snowball fight, right? Because I am very prepared to fucking dominate you, this isn't a game anymore. It's actual war."

You nodded, the lift of your lips indicating a silent thank you for moving past the mushiness route that your conversation took. Instead, you growled with impishness, "Bring it on, Rapp, but I'll let you know, I'm not going to back down so easily again."

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp fic #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien x reader #christmas21

107 notes · View notes

lawrenceop · 3 years ago

Text

HOMILY for Dedication of St Mary Major

Nahum 2:1,3,3:1-3,6-7; Deut 32:35-36,39,41; Matthew 16:24-28

Around the year 325, a rich aristocratic couple in Rome, John and his wife, were praying to Our Lady for a child. Devotion to Our Lady as help and intercessor goes back to the beginnings of the Faith, after all; the earliest copy of a prayer to Our Lady is a 3rd-century papyrus from Egypt, which is now housed in the John Rylands Library in Manchester. This prayer, known in Latin as Sub tuum præsidium and which we sing after the Saturday morning Mass in this church, invokes Mary, in Greek, as Theotokos, the Bearer of God, Mother of God. So, John and his wife followed in the ancient Christian practice of entrusting themselves to Our Lady, and as always Mary answers our prayers albeit sometimes in unexpected ways!

On the eve of the 5th of August in that year 325, John has a dream in which Our Lady asks him to built a church to be named in her honour on the Esquiline hill, one of Rome’s legendary seven hills and the largest of them. It seems that Our Lady had also appeared to the Pope at the time, Liberius, telling him to go to the Esquiline hill. So, on the 5th of August, in the height of the Roman summer – and we all had a good taste of that kind of oppressive baking heat two weeks ago – the whole of Rome marvels as snow starts to fall on the Esquiline hill. John, his wife, and the Pope are gathered there, and as the snow falls they realise that Our Lady is indicating the site where she wants the church to be built. To commemorate this miracle of the snow, on this anniversary day white petals rain down during Mass celebrated inside the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore, the church founded by Pope Liberius and paid for by John and his wife.

Currently, we can see the effect of the driest July on record in our city. The ground is hard and parched, and all the grass is brown. A heavy rainfall right now wouldn’t help as the ground is too solid and impervious, baked by the sun, and the result would be flooding. So, we need gentle soaking rain, or indeed, a fall of snow which can gradually melt and the moisture gently penetrate the earth. Our Lady indicates through the miracle of the snow that true devotion to her allows the grace of God, like melting snow, to gently and gradually soften hearts that have been hardened by sin. The whiteness of the snow on the dry ground is also a reflection of Mary’s immaculate conception – a unique and marvellous work of God – that stands out in shining splendour against the history of humanity, fallen into original sin. God does this miraculous work of preserving Mary from the stain of sin so that through Mary and in Jesus, the thirst of humanity for salvation will be satisfied. For just as the dry land is gently watered by snow and dew so the human soul, parched by the heat of sin, is restored to new life by the gift of the Saviour who Isaiah says falls like moisture from the heavens. Hence the Mass for Our Lady in Advent begins with the antiphon Rorate cæli: “Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain down the Just One.”

Finally, shortly after the Council of Ephesus in 431, Pope Sixtus III rebuilt and embellished the Basilica that Pope Liberius had built on the Esquiline hill. The church was dedicated to the Mother of God, Theotokos, a title that emphasises the divinity of Christ, and which had been solemnly affirmed by the Council of Ephesus. For two thousand years, therefore, Christians have gone to the Mother of God for help and intercession; the Gospel of St John indicates the first recorded instance of this, when the newly-wed couple at Cana went to Our Lady for help when the wine had run out. The great Basilica on the Esquiline hill on Rome, therefore, stands as a sanctuary for all who seek Our Lady’s intercession. As the consequence of a miraculous snowfall, it also stands as a promise to all who go to Our Lady that God will answer our prayers and can work marvels for us, even if we don’t immediately perceive his action in our lives. Rather, like slowly melting snow, God’s grace permeates our lives and refreshes us.

Thus we pray to Mary in our need. At this time, let us pray for gently rain to refresh our land, and indeed, for all our necessities. So, let us say the words of the Sub tuum præsidium: “We fly to your patronage, O Holy Mother of God: despise not our petitions in our necessities, but deliver us always from all dangers, O Glorious and Blessed Virgin.” Amen.

#grace #miracle #true devotion #Mary #Santa Maria Maggiore

6 notes · View notes

viastro · 4 years ago

Text

third of december | joshua hong

ミ★ synopsis: i still remember, third of december. me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you. OR: in which joshua gives you his sweater on the first snowfall of the year.

ミ★ genre: slice of life!au, uni!au, fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: none

ミ★ word count: 2,922

ミ★ pairings: joshua hong x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! in honor of it being the third of december, i decided to write this oneshot based off of that line in conan gray’s song - heather. i made this a joshua oneshot because i felt bad... for the wonwoo one... so this hopefully makes up for it :D i also love joshua’s platinum hair. i love him. i hope he’s doing well. as always, make sure to give joshua lots of love! i hope you guys like this one even tho it’s kinda short and i just wrote this in the span of an hour !

It’s cold, you think to yourself as you walk to the next building that holds your class on campus. Rubbing the goosebumps raising on your arms, you glance around at your surroundings as music floods through your Airpods. You let out a sigh to see if you can see your breath, and you purse your lips when it condensates before your eyes.

I should’ve brought an extra jacket, you curse quietly, only to stop when you hear a beautiful laugh resonate through the small crowd of people heading to their next class. Your head perks up, and you look across campus to see a bright head of platinum hair walking in your direction as he talks to his friend. Your heart twirls in your chest when he turns his head, and you find that his beautiful laugh matches his gorgeous facial features.

Immediately you look down at the ground and try to walk faster towards your class, feeling awkward as you were basically just gawking at his beauty. Your face feels warm, but your hands are cold as you walk in the mid-November weather.

You hear his voice as he gets closer, but you continue to stare down at the cobblestone as you walk. You find that his voice is incredibly pleasant as well, and you wonder how a human being can be so beautiful, causing the thoughts of the coldness of your hands to come to a halt.

“Are you sure you wanna work on the melody? I can work on it if you want.” Joshua offers as the two head towards the direction of the cafe. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, having heard this five times in the span of the two hour lecture they just got out of.

“Joshua, I already told you that if you really wanna make the melody then you can do it. I don’t mind writing lyrics.” Jeonghan replies with a grin, and Joshua lets out an apologetic smile. “Sorry Hannie, I just hate writing lyrics.”

“I know Joshua, but sometimes you need to practice...” Joshua tunes out the rest of Jeonghan’s lecture when he turns his head to look forward, only to pause when he lays eyes on you. Time comes to a slow when he sees you glance up from the ground for a moment, and his heart fills with warmth even in this cold November weather.

He stops and turns his head in your direction when you walk past him, watching as you shrink within the crowd as you most likely head to your next class. Jeonghan chuckles when he follows Joshua’s line of sight, knowing that his best friend has just developed a crush. With this newfound knowledge, he nudges Joshua’s shoulder, causing the blonde to snap out of his trance.

“You good?”

“Do you know who they are?” Joshua asks in a quiet voice, and Jeonghan turns his head, seeing that you’re no longer in sight. He shrugs, “I’ve never spoken to them.”

Joshua nods his head, looking obviously disappointed as they turn back towards the direction of the cafe. Jeonghan chuckles, patting Joshua’s shoulder after a moment of his friend staying quiet. Joshua glances at the brunette, and he watches as a grin etches itself onto his face. “Since they were heading in that direction today, it’s most likely that our paths will cross with theirs on Thursdays. You’ll see them next week.”

Joshua lets out a smile after a moment, and nods his head, now feeling excited to see you in a week. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, wrapping his arm around Joshua’s shoulders as they get closer to the cafe.

“You fall in love easily.” Jeonghan tells him, and Joshua purses his lips. He glances up at the cloudy sky, remembering the way your eyes sparkled when you briefly glanced up from the ground. And so he smiles and responds in a soft voice,

“They were pretty.”

I brought an extra jacket, but I forgot gloves. Fucking gloves, you think as you walk across campus once again. You let out a sigh, watching as your breath condensates before your very eyes once again. Beginning to curse to yourself for forgetting the gloves on your table, you pick up the pace so that you can make it to the warmth of your building quicker.

That plan comes to an immediate stop when you hear his voice, and you find yourself walking slower to be able to cherish the sound. Glancing up in the direction of his voice, you see him listening attentively as his friend animatedly speaks to him. You let out a small smile, thinking that he’s rather cute when he smiles.

You suck in a breath when he turns his head and locks eyes with you when your paths are about to cross. You want nothing more than to look away and act as if he didn’t catch you staring fondly at him, but his catlike eyes have you intrigued. He finally lets out a smile and stops walking when the two of you are right beside each other, and he turns towards you.

You find yourself doing the same thing, internally screaming to yourself as you wonder how you were able to muster the courage to not run away when he turned to you. The blonde extends his hand in your direction, “Hi, I’m Joshua Hong.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you reach out and softly grasp his warm hand with your cold one, giving it a slight shake. “Hi, I’m yln yn.”

Joshua’s eyebrows furrow slightly when you let go, and he reaches into his jacket pockets. You move to apologize for how cold your hand was, only to stop when he holds out a pair of purple gloves for you. Glancing up at his face, you catch the redness to his nose as he mutters, “It’s cold, make sure to wear these.”

You let out a small smile, “Are you sure? These are yours, and you barely know me.” You tell him softly, and Joshua chuckles, nodding his head in reassurance. He pushes them in your direction again, and you shyly take them from his grasp. “Thank you.”

You slide them on, letting out a happy sigh when you feel the warmth of the gloves on your fingers. Joshua smiles, “Want me to walk you to class?”

“I thought we were gonna go to the caf-” Joshua quickly elbows Jeonghan in the stomach, making the latter double over in pain from the impact. The brunette quietly curses Joshua and his powerful elbows, wondering why the fuck his elbow felt so sharp.

Your eyes widen slightly in concern at Joshua’s friend, and the blonde waves his hand at you with a grin, obviously one that’s trying to hold back a laugh. “He’s fine.”

“I’m dying.”

“You’re fine.”

“Fuck you.”

Joshua flashes you a smile after patting Jeonghan on the back, and you end up giggling at the whole interaction. You shake your head ‘no’ at his offer, “It’s okay. It’s all the way across campus, and you already gave me these gloves. You’ve done more than enough.”

Joshua’s heart falls slightly, but he nods his head, respecting your decision. He prepares to say bye, only to stop when you say, “We can hangout some other time, though.”

He nods his head immediately in agreement, and you giggle at the sight of it. So you nod your head back at him, before waving your hand, “See you later Joshua, make sure to be nice to your friend.”

Joshua chuckles as he waves back at you, watching as you begin to walk away “I’m always nice.”

“Say that to my two broken ribs.” Jeonghan wheezes from behind you, and you let out a bright smile when you hear the pair begin to squabble.

You walk towards your class with a happy heart, and warm hands.

“Did you hear that it’s gonna snow tomorrow?” You glance over towards the blonde, finding him playing with your switch on the floor of your apartment as you do homework on the couch.

“December 3rd? That’s kinda early in the month.” You tell Joshua right as he lets out a groan for losing in smash bros. You watch as the pretty man shrugs his shoulders, preparing to restart the round, “Can’t believe you’re more concerned that it’s early rather than the fact that we still have to go to classes.”

“That’s cause I work better when I’m actually in the classroom rather than online classes.” You say, rolling your eyes when Joshua waves his hand away at you.

“Didn’t a girl slip and fall on the icy ground last year?” Joshua nods aimlessly in response before telling you that she’s still in talks of suing the university. Pursing your lips and nodding your head in agreement for wanting to sue the school, you glance back towards your textbook.

You and Joshua did end up hanging out some other time. Almost everyday after classes to be exact. Usually it’s you, Jeonghan, and Joshua, but Jeonghan had an evening class to go to today. You weren’t originally going to hangout with Joshua, but he invited himself to your apartment to be able to play with your switch since Jeonghan broke his.

Jeonghan is still repenting.

You’ve discovered that not only is Joshua incredibly pretty and has a nice voice, but his personality is beautiful as well. Over the last couple weeks, your crush on him has only developed even further with the time you’ve spent with him.

The same goes for Joshua, who has found himself thinking of you more often than not. From the fact that your eyes sparkle when you smile at him, to the way you practically inhale two cups of ramen in a span of fifteen minutes. He’s absolutely amazed by you.

“You wanna order food?” You ask after a few minutes of silence between you, except for the diverse amount of sound effects coming from your TV. Joshua pauses the game and turns towards you with a knowing smile, causing you to let out a laugh.

“Did you even have to ask?” Joshua responds, and you roll your eyes.

“Thai food?” He nods his head in agreement, and the two of you settle on what dishes you both want, as well as what you’ll save for Jeonghan. Once that’s figured out, you place the order and receive the wait time of 30-45 minutes.

“Does this mean you’re gonna take a break from your homework?” Joshua asks after that’s done, and you purse your lips in thought, before nodding your head.

“I’ll beat your ass in super smash bros.” You tease, and the blonde rolls his eyes fondly at you as you settle down onto the floor beside him. He hands you your other controller, and the two of you begin a competitive round of smash bros.

During the middle of the round, Joshua sneaks glances at you, watching as you laugh when you accidentally make your character fall off the platform. His eyes sparkle at the way your face brightens when you fight his character, to the pout of your lips as you begin to concentrate.

Feeling Joshua’s eyes on you for the sixth time, you pause the game and turn to face him with a teasing smile. “Do you think I’m pretty? You keep-”

You freeze at the close proximity between your faces, and you watch as Joshua’s eyes widen slightly. The two of you stare into each other's eyes for a moment, searching for an answer. To what question? At this moment, you can only think of one.

are we about to kiss?

Your answer comes to you when his eyes trail down to your lips. Your eyes slowly flutter shut when he leans in slightly, and Joshua ingrains the visual in his mind, finding you the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on as he slowly leans in.

bzzz

The two of you jump apart at the sound of your apartment buzzer, and you quickly reach for your phone, seeing that the food is here. Joshua quickly scrambles up off the floor and walks over to your door without another word, and you rest a hand over your heart, feeling it violently pound against your chest.

While Joshua’s cheeks are tinged a pretty shade of pink as he grabs the takeout food, wondering if the two of you would’ve actually kissed if you weren’t interrupted by the Thai food. However, it seems that his question won’t be answered as he walks back into your living room with a small smile.

“Let’s eat.”

Joshua literally told me it was going to snow and I decided to wear a t-shirt and a jacket? Am I stupid? You begin to genuinely question whether or not you have any brain cells as you walk across campus. The snow begins to fall around you as you head to class, and you quietly curse yourself for being so distracted in the morning to have forgotten the weather.

The almost kiss keeps replaying in your head. From the moment Jeonghan came to your apartment after class and began to eat with you guys, to the time he and Joshua left to head back to their apartment. This was all you thought about even until this morning, and it’s all you’re thinking about now.

stupid! stupid! stupid!

Your head perks up when you hear Joshua and Jeonghan laughing, and you find the two dressed warmly as they walk in your direction. Your heart thumps against your chest when Joshua glances up and locks eyes with you, only to internally panic when he immediately frowns.

oh god, he hates me.

“Yn, I told you it was snowing today. Where’s your sweater?” Joshua asks when him and Jeonghan get closer to you. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to come up with an answer that doesn’t sound like,

oh, you know Joshua. I was too busy being distracted by the fact that you almost kissed me last night, that i forgot to dress like a human being that DOESN’T wanna get hypothermia. haha. hahahaha. hahahahahahahahaha. Pain.

“I forgot.” You mutter, feeling embarrassed about your stupidity. Jeonghan snickers at you, thinking the whole ordeal is rather hilarious, and you shoot him a death glare, to which he immediately stops chuckling.

You turn back towards Joshua when you see him zipping open his backpack, and your eyes widen slightly when he pulls out an extra sweater from his bag. Jeonghan grins to himself, watching as Joshua holds it out in your direction.

“What?” You ask, and Jeonghan lets out a quiet sigh of disappointment at your lack of understanding context clues when it comes to real life scenarios. Joshua shakes the sweater, “Put this on. That jacket won’t help much, you need layers.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, before handing Jeonghan your bag, and Joshua your jacket. You slip on the sweater over your head, and feel your face fill with warmth when you realize how much larger it is on you rather than Joshua.

Joshua’s cheeks turn pink at the sight of you wearing his sweater, and he immediately hands you your jacket. You take it from his grasp and slip it on, before taking back your backpack from Jeonghan. You gesture to yourself, “So, what do we think?”

“Looks better on Joshua-” Jeonghan immediately gets elbowed in the stomach, causing him to double over. Joshua gives you a shy smile, and you bite back a laugh.

“You look pretty.” Joshua tells you softly, taking note of the way the snowflakes rest on your head, and the held back laughter goes away as you feel yourself growing more shy at the fondness in his voice. You look down at the ground, coughing into your shoulder as you prepare to leave to head towards your building once again.

“Thank you for the sweater, Joshua. I’ll see you and Jeonghan after class.” You tell him, and you wave at the doubled over Jeonghan, before turning to go to class. You pause when you feel a hand softly grasp your wrist, and you turn around to see Joshua right behind you. Raising an eyebrow you ask, “What?”

Joshua doesn’t respond, instead biting the inside of his cheek nervously as he stares at you. You move to ask what’s wrong, only to be stopped when he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you later, yn.”

And with that, Joshua immediately turns around and walks away, ignoring Jeonghan’s teasing from behind him as he follows after the blonde. Warmth floods your senses, and you slowly raise a hand up to your lips, smile slowly breaking itself out onto your face as you watch the blonde disappear.

You feel warm.

“You brought that sweater just for yn, didn’t you?” Jeonghan teases as the two walk towards the cafeteria, and Joshua nods his head.

“I knew they’d forget to dress warmly even though I told them it was gonna snow.” Joshua responds, smiling softly at the way the bright orange complimented your skin beautifully. It was a nice contrast to the white snow surrounding you as it fell from the sky.

“You just wanted to see them in your clothes.” Jeonghan says with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around Joshua’s shoulders as they push through the doors, feeling warmth flood their bodies. Joshua nods his head, not even denying it as he smiles to himself.

“They look better in it than I do.”

433 notes · View notes