#Gift for Elephant Lover

[nadal-designer]

[noisycowboyglitter]

"Cute Elephant Blowing Heart Bubbles: Unique Valentine's Day Cards and Decor"

Cute Elephant Blowing Heart Bubbles for Valentine's Day: A Whimsical Expression of Adoration

In the enchanting realm of Valentine's Day celebrations, few images can capture the hearts of both young and old like that of a playful elephant tenderly blowing a stream of heart-shaped bubbles. This delightful scene, brimming with whimsy and affection, serves as a heartwarming reminder that love can be expressed in the most unexpected and endearing ways.

Buy now:19.95$

Imagine a plush, gentle giant, its eyes filled with a soft, soulful gaze, its trunk gently parting to release a cascade of iridescent bubbles, each one a floating testament to the power of love. As these heart-shaped orbs drift through the air, they carry with them a sense of wonder and unbridled joy, transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary.

This captivating image, often found adorning Valentine's Day cards, gifts, and decorations, taps into the universal language of the heart, speaking to the childlike wonder that resides within us all. It is a symbol of the unbreakable bond between humans and animals, a celebration of the pure and unconditional love that knows no boundaries.

Buy now

Whether it's a cherished keepsake, a playful card, or a charming decoration, the sight of an elephant blowing heart bubbles on Valentine's Day is a reminder that love can be expressed in the most unexpected and delightful ways, touching the hearts of all who behold it.

Animal Lovers: Champions of Unconditional Companionship

For the devoted animal enthusiast, the world is a tapestry woven with the boundless love and unwavering loyalty of our furry, feathered, and scaled companions. These individuals, whose hearts beat to the rhythm of paws, hooves, and claws, are the champions of unconditional companionship, steadfast in their mission to nurture, protect, and celebrate the incredible diversity of the animal kingdom.

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From the purr of a beloved cat to the playful antics of a rescued pup, animal lovers find joy in the simple pleasures of shared experiences, cherishing each moment as a testament to the profound connection that transcends the divide between species. Their homes become sanctuaries, where the pitter-patter of paws and the songs of birds create a symphony of pure, unadulterated love.

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These compassionate individuals are the guardians of the animal world, their empathy and dedication shaping a future where all creatures large and small are treated with the respect and reverence they deserve. For the animal lover, every day is a celebration of life, a chance to revel in the wonder of our shared existence.

[t-shirtpromote]

(via "Elephant Love" Active T-Shirt for Sale by Adiss23)

[magnoliaspringdesign]

[barbarshop]

("Graceful Elephant Silhouette - Wildlife Inspired Art Print" Magnet for Sale by UmutK gönderdi)

[mercif4l]

𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆.

pairing: reader x choi seungcheol genre: fluff summary: seungcheol and you are forced to confront your feelings after some time apart. content warning: pure fluff, she/her pronouns and femme!pet names used, mentions of alcohol consumption, a teensy bit of yearning, friends-to-lovers, idiots-to-lovers, vernon is like the opposite of a mediator.

leftovers.

csc 👋, named after his excessive use of the waving emoji when you first started texting. instead of ‘hi’, or ‘sup’, or ‘may i take you out?’, it was always the 👋 instead. years later and he still defers to the habit when he’s a little overwhelmed by his feelings. it’s cute. he’s cute. he loves your contact name in his phone—it always puts a shit eating grin on his face. so much so that the boys know just when he’s texting you; its the only smile bigger than the one he gives to carats. but the nickname's conception is nothing special, really. it just happened to be the first gift he bought you: a box of ladybug chocolates. you’d ogled and fawned over them at some white elephant party, devastated when they were taken away by (always the machiavellian) jeonghan, only to have a box of your own delivered the next day by a red-nosed seungcheol. hence aa ladybug ᡣ𐭩.

notes: seungcheol and you are both typo warriors. your obsession with emojis inspired a more liberal use of his. cheol has no shame in spilling all his feelings out into imessage; he'll say it all again in person when he can, but he's practically bursting at the seams to confess at this point. vernon is stuck somewhere in between, violently single and sick of it.

a/n: like everyone on this platform, i am obsessed with @xinganhao and their smau storytelling! they inspired me to have a go fooling around with one of these and try the medium out... if i flopped yes i didn't <3 my fic drafts are a hellscape rn so this was such a relief to write heh hope u enjoy.

[jaehaeryshater]

“Near the end, [King Jaehaerys] grew certain [Alicent] was his daughter Saera, returned to him from beyond the narrow sea.”

artist: @riotarttherite

I had the great pleasure of commissioning, in my opinion, one of ASOIAF fandom’s greatest artists on this gorgeous piece. I had never commissioned any artwork before and didn’t know what to expect, and this far exceeded my expectations. The attention to detail is beautiful and the overall piece conveys exactly what I was envisioning in my head, so I wanted to start off with a big thank you.

The idea for this art piece was originally a “what if” or AU where Saera either didn’t get caught at the brothel or was brought back from the Silent Sisters as was allegedly Jaehaerys’s plan (or if she had bonded with Balerion and gotten to stay! Would have loved that for her) so she stays in King’s Landing and becomes his caretaker in his old age instead of Alicent Hightower. As his daughter, she would have significantly more influence in being able to “speak for him” instead of a caretaker for another House, so although I do not take Saera as someone particularly obsessed with power, I do find it very interesting to imagine her deciding to cause chaos as the Old King’s mouthpiece. The streets of King’s Landing are burning as we speak! Even before Jaehaerys seemed to succumb to dementia, Saera did appear to have a strange influence over him, so once Alysanne passed away, it only makes sense that Saera would become the person in his ear. Not all that great for the smallfolk or even Lords of the realm, but great for drama and storylines. And Saera, of course! I’m sure she would have paraded everywhere, weighed down by jewelry and the finest wines. Perhaps she would have had a full menagerie, as she appeared to love animals. Definitely an elephant there somewhere.

As this piece was being worked on, however, I did think of a second meaning to the art that I also think is really neat. You could also view this as what Jaehaerys is seeing as Alicent is caring for him. He did believe her to be Saera in the end, as his mind was being lost. His Saera had come back to him, and although I do not like Jaehaerys and think he probably deserved worse, he most likely died happy at that thought, believing Saera was reading to him. So if you prefer to interpret this as viewing things through Jaehaerys’s mind, I welcome you because I love it at least equally to the first idea.

Lastly, the detailings are beautiful so I wanted to touch on them and give them the attention they deserve for the moment. I asked Riot to have a caring but sinister vibe, that she is caring for him for a plethora of reasons but certainly that includes self-serving reasons. I believe this was captured really well! I wanted it to be illustrated that Jaehaerys had lost his wits a while beforehand, so he has a vacant look, and Saera has the keys, showing that she is the real power behind the Crown. She has several expensive jewelry pieces (she has many from her lovers, but she doesn’t bother with them, leaving them to collect dust, only thinking gifts from the King are worthy to wear), but my favorite was one I specifically requested. Her jeweled bodice, which contains replicas of the King’s jewels that are present on his crown. Dare I say, she had her mother’s crown repurposed for herself? The intention is clear, Saera is effectively the Queen now, not in name, but Queen nonetheless. As for the general fashion, I told Riot that my favorite era of fashion was the Tudor era, more broadly 1300s- 1550s. As you can see, this was more than delivered and extremely beautifully inspired by historical fashion. GRRM doesn’t always describe his character’s outfits, and the GOT and HOTD outfits were often lackluster. This was exactly the type of beauty I was looking for. The dragon embroidery on Saera’s sleeves? Mwah!

Anyway, thank you so much for geeking out with me! The Saera/Jaehaerys dynamic is one of the most interesting dynamics to me. There’s simultaneously so little and so much there. It’s complex and layered, I can’t stop thinking about it. If you have been on my tiktok, you may have heard about my extensive theory regarding that dynamic, iykyk. If you ever want to talk about them, absolutely feel free to inbox me. More commission ideas coming this year definitely, at least a couple more of this dynamic, but I don’t know how a piece could be any more perfect <3

[fictionalslvr]

SYNOPSIS: Leon hated you, but even more, hated himself. The pure anger growing because of his selfish mind. He was just jealous, jealous you were younger and prettier. But his chest couldn't help himself. Not on this case.

PAIRING: Vendetta¡Leon x Younger agent¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.148k.

WARNINGS: Age gap, but reader is +18! (Not really Enemies) to lovers, not use of y/n, based on the lyrics of "Cigarette Daydreams - Cage the Elephant"

Vorfreude:(n.) The joyful, intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.

NOTES: I'm trying really hard to get out of this writer block, so I'm writing slowly. This is just the start of what can turn into a series, so tell me if you guys like to motivate me to continue writing!

“You can drive all night…”

Leon really could. On nights like this, when the stars aren't visible in the obscure sky, his hands would grip on the steering wheel and drive towards nothing. He's definitely wrong for doing that. Driving while being drunk. Barely recognizing anything on the road, the semaphore lights look like a beam that irritates his eyes. Those same eyes who used to shine brighter than that. Those damn eyes who used to look bigger. Those same eyes who are now tired, exhausted, spent, worn out, every single synonym you could search up for to describe those parts he couldn't recognize anymore on himself. He's now nearly forty, and he never imagined this. The younger and pure him would always thought that forty was the age of success, where he would be resting all day, without work to do, without people in his mind, without worries, nothing to worry about. Silly him for thinking that.

“Lookin' for the answers in the pourin' rain…"

He never had his answers, never even had one. He would always question himself, like why he's alive and most of his friends dead. This wasn't a bit fair, and not a single fair for that big rounded younger Leon. When he looks to the past, he hopes he gets blind to not see those things again. Forget everything that happened, the days he spent in pure automatic, the bad things he said, the disgusting things he saw and had to participate in. Leon used to think that things would get better, when it didn't.

“You wanna find peace of mind

Lookin' for the answer

If we can find a reason, a reason to change

Lookin' for the answers

If you can find a reason, a reason to stay

Standin' in the pourin' rain…”

That poor old dog had his reasons to stay. Some reasons even seem foolish, like taking care of his dog. He always thought what his dear four-legged friend would do without him, he would probably die, and he can't let this happen. The big Irish Setter called Luis was a gift from Ashley after some years, she said it was to help them to deal with what happened in Spain. The blond was septic at first, and refused to call a damn dog as Luis. But they were very similar. Those eyes followed him everywhere, the way his fur looked like his hair, and soon…he found himself calling him that way he promised not to. It was stupid. But that stupid act helped. Leon felt like Luis was with him all the time, that his friend were there on his side. And he caught himself chatting with the animal, telling him how the day was tiring, and he seemed to understand everything, practically paying attention to his words. He would sniff Leon, place his snout below his hands to earn some caresses and help him forget the subject quickly. He sure is a clever dog, and he rapidly got attached to the pet, or better saying, his friend. Now, the man would enter his house and found the old dog running to him, jumping on his legs to earn his attention. And that futile act would take out a sincere chuckle out of him, only he could do that.

Old as he is now, he asked the D.S.O to work less. And as he worked so much for them, they granted it. Letting him do little jobs, more like a detective. And that only earned him more headaches. Specifically saying, one headache of a woman, his partner that he despises so much. That voice of yours would get into his brain and annoy him.

—”You drank last night again, right? I can see you're not looking well.”

That got him rolling his eyes up every time, groaning in bitterness. Why would you care about him that much? You never did, and he knows it. You were so much younger, so much brighter, so much like him in the past, and he hated this. You were always such a tease, that damn smile plastered on your face like he wasn't worthy of that happiness. Leon hates you. With the depths of his heart, his repugnance about you is real, and he knows himself enough for that. He just doesn't understand. But he thinks he does, and silly him for thinking that.

His true impliccance to you is your happiness. You can't be happy if he isn't, that's obvious. He started to dig why you're happy and he's not. In the serious cases you were alongside with him, you never took it one hundred percent seriously, you would make jokes all the time and he would just ignore. But deep inside, he was holding himself not to laugh.

—”Damn, where's everyone going?” — Leon looked behind, watching you circle on your place, searching for human sights.

—”Bingo.”

And his answer came out of nowhere. So suddenly you didn't expect it. That took a single giggle of you, your eyes squinting as you shook your head to it.

—”Yeah, okay old man.”

He found himself proud, proud that his same old joke made some effect. Even if it was on someone he hated it. Leon sighed softly, turning back to his place and wondering if you would find his other jokes funny. You were always laughing, so it would be easy to make you laugh. But that wasn't the time for it, and neither was important. Leon quickly got back to his serious face and focused on the mission. But you, you were surprised to see such a side of him, even a fraction of it. He never was the one talking to you, and you just thought he was the serious old man you heard of. And honestly, you heard a bit of his story, of his mades and how impressionnant he is. But you would never admit it, because that would be invasive, and you're not prepared to understand his pain.

But Leon is a bad liar, a really bad one. And he couldn't lie to himself, couldn't lie when his hurt hung to each other, not when his pupils dilated without his consent every time, not when his hands started to sweat or the words slipped out of his tongue incontrollably. He knew this was love, in the most bad time to come in, and the most bad person to fell in love, but there's no denial. The problem is, Leon Kennedy is also not going to accept it easy, so that's a big problem from now on. Even bigger if the problem is you, the so annoying rookie that's he's slowly wishing you two are on the same mission, the same rookie that laughs of his stupid jokes, that rookie that brings some desserts some times and he pretends not to like. That damn rookie.

[magnoliasandarson]

please don't call

Dick Grayson was a lover; it was in his bones, festering in his marrow. In another life, he has a picket fence house by thirty- complete with golden retriever dogs and rescues chasing around a small army of kids. In that life, he tacks crayon-drawn masterpieces to the walls of his office and brags about cooking his partner a perfect meal. He decorates the lawn with massive inflatable snowmen and referees snowball fights.

In that beautiful dream, he sleeps peacefully.

Dick Grayson was molded into a fighter. He hadn't been a violent child; he rescued baby birds from the circus tents and cried when Zitka the elephant got sick. He was a sweet boy, and somewhere in the mires of pain and vengeance that was all corrupted, he became someone people feared. In this life, Dick Grayson has been shot, stabbed, and burned. In this life, he has his fucked up family of fighters.

In this nightmare, he lays awake- tortured by the memories of cruelty.

The holidays had once been beautiful for Dick. He'd never really cared about the religious aspect of it all- had been too caught up in the joy of light and love. Before his life blew up for the first time, he'd reveled in the melting pot of tradition and affection at Haly's. It had been a whirl of smiles and bright colors, it had been everything he could ever want. Now...

Wayne Manor isn't meant for him. He knew it when he was eighteen, and he ran off with a bruised jaw and ego to be with the Titans. He knows it now, sitting at a table of pained half smiles, feeling entirely out of place in his vibrant (and hideous) sweater. He tried, he really did; he showed up to the manor the day prior in his shitty truck, carrying armloads of gifts. He hummed carols and hung dollar-store tinsel from the banisters, covering up Alfie's tastefully boring decorations. He ignored the comments from his siblings and blocked out Bruce's silent judgment.

The table is laden with a true feast. He can't touch any of it. The air is so fucking tense. Bruce made an offhand comment about Jason picking a fight with Falcone almost immediately, and no matter how quickly Dick asked Damian about his art show, the fight had to happen. He tried, he really did, he interjected to tell Bruce to shut up and try to calm down Jason, but when the glass in his brother's hand shattered- it was all over. Jason's eyes shimmered as he looked down at the blood starting to leave his hand, and as Dick reached for him, he launched up from his chair.

Jason practically ran out, Bruce staring after him with some odd sort of look that Dick didn't like at all, "Are you happy now, Bruce?" Dick could feel his back teeth grind as he glared.

Damian's green eyes flicked back over, "Father isn't to blame, Richard,"

"Dames, shut up," Dick was tired of coaching his family to be a family, "Bruce knew exactly what he was doing provoking Jason like that." Bruce didn't back down from the Dick's glare, meeting accusing eyes with blankness. It made Dick even more angry.

Stephanie snorts her agreement from the end of the table, tossing her fork down on her plate and hopping up, "B doesn't give a shit if he runs off the disappointments," she nods her head to the door, signaling Cass to follow, which of course she does, silent disapproval written across her face, "We'll be at the Clocktower, don't bother us."

Duke, poor, sweet Duke, catches Dick's eye and maybe sort of smiles but gets up and leaves too, muttering a quiet, "Merry Christmas, Dick," as he passes through the door.

Dick looks down at his untouched plate and feels the blood roaring in his ears. Tim abandons the table, but Dick doesn't even glance up to watch him go. All he wanted was a nice meal with his family. He knew they would fight, because of course they would, he knew that the holiday wouldn't be painless, but fuck why did it have to be like this? Oh right, it didn't have to be like this.

This whole stupid property was haunted, and it was Bruce's fault. Rage was bubbling in Dick's gut, hot and violent. Jason had loved the holidays back then, Tim used to be excited to exchange presents, Steph always stayed to sneak leftover desserts, Cass wanted nothing more than her family, Damian was never happier than when he could watch his family react to his art, and Duke- all he wanted was to feel loved. Every single Wayne kid had shown up optimistic for the holiday.

Dick's knuckles popped as he gripped the armrests of his chair, he tried. He was cheerful, he was kind, he showed up-

"I'll call later, once he's had a chance to cool down-"

"Don't you fucking dare," Dick snapped, cutting Bruce off as he stood, slamming his chair back a few feet, "Leave them all alone."

Dick turned to Damian, offering the tween an out with his eyes, but Damian's face steeled as he turned back to Bruce. Fine. Dick rolled his shoulders and strode out, calling behind him, "Don't call me either."

He had wrapped presents, dammit, and he would give them to his siblings. Whether they wanted them or not.

[fairy-writes]

FAIRY!!! CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!! MAY MANY MORE COME!!! :O <3

May I request Edward Elric with the action propmpt 10? That would be awesome!! <3

APPLE PIES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Fullmetal Alchemist

Pairing(s): Edward Elric x Gender Neutral!Reader

Prompt: Putting their head on their lover’s shoulder (Action Prompt #10)

Notes: POST-FMAB EVENTS

AND THANK YOU RU

This is for my 1K followers event! It’s going on between June 8th and June 22nd!

__________________________________________________________________________

Even after all Father had put you through, some things never changed. 

That thing being Edward’s obnoxious love for apple pies. 

Specifically Gracia’s recipe. She had been kind enough to gift you and Winry the recipe years ago. The scrap of paper was well-loved and worn out, stained with butter, and the writing barely legible. But that didn’t matter. You knew the recipe by heart after years of making it for your lover. 

Your forearms were covered in flour, and you were pretty sure you had something on your face as you worked butter into your dry ingredients. Your hands felt sticky with dough, but you didn’t mind. This would make Edward happy, and that alone made your day. 

It always did. 

Especially after all he had gone through growing up and through his young adult life. 

You cracked an egg on the corner of the bowl and added it to the dough mixture, mixing everything by hand until you had the consistency you wanted. It had grown warm in the process, so you stuck it in the ice box to chill for at least an hour while you got to work on the filling. 

Two tablespoons of lemon juice. Nine apples peeled, cored, and sliced into wedges. Both went into a bowl with some sugar and tossed until combined. Then a skillet was turned on, and everything was put in with more butter and mixed until the apples were soft. The scent of fruit filled the air, making your mouth water, and you felt giddy at the idea of eating the dessert later. 

You may not have been Edward, but you still loved a good apple pie now and then. 

Just then, warm arms wrapped around your waist, and a chin was put on your shoulder. 

“What are you making?” Came Edward’s voice, and you hummed, leaning your head on his as you tossed the apples once again in the skillet. The sugar was melting. It was almost time. 

“Apple pie. You asked for one last week.” You said warmly and felt him grin as he turned his head to place a kiss where your shoulder met your neck. 

“You remembered?” At this, you huff out a laugh,

“Have I ever forgotten something?” You say, and he thinks it over, pecking your cheek this time. 

“No. It’s like Ling said. Something about elephants never forgetting. Wait, no—Alphonse said that in one of his letters. He’s studying them with May Chang in between alkahestry lessons.” He said, tapping his fingers against your waist. 

You gently pry his arms away from around you, ignoring his whine, and go to pull the dough from the fridge, turning off the stovetop as you do so.

“Now that you’re here, you can help me.” You say, and he raises an eyebrow,

“You’re trusting me in the kitchen? I thought I was banned after Valentine’s Day.” He says but grabs an apron from where it’s hanging on the wall nonetheless. You hold a finger up, smearing some flour on his nose,

“I’m trusting you with supervision. Don’t think I’ll let you in the kitchen with anything less than that. Alphonse can cook better than you, and he didn’t even have a body growing up!”

Edward mutters under his breath, something about how “that isn’t fair,” but he smiles at you nonetheless when he notices you watching him tie the apron.

“Like what you see?” He teases, and you offer a mischievous grin. “I always do.” You retort and delight in the way his cheeks flush a pretty pink.

You quickly put Edward to work with the dough from the ice box. You carefully instruct him how to make pie crust and are actually rather impressed with how they turn out. Soon, you have two perfectly constructed pie crusts ready to be filled. 

Maybe you can actually trust your lover in the kitchen. But then you remember the burnt attempt at breakfast from Valentine’s Day. 

Like you had said before, he’s allowed in the kitchen with supervision.

You blink and are torn from your thoughts when something is smeared on your cheek. You look up from where you are preparing the second pie to see Edward with that grin of his that means he’s up to no good. Egg yolk is coating his finger, and you assume that’s what he just put on your face. 

“You're supposed to be brushing the pie. Not my face.” You say, and he laughs. 

It’s one of your favorite sounds in the world. 

“Just seeing if you’re paying attention.” He says, and you smile. His own grin softens as you step into his side, wrapping a flour-stained hand around his waist. 

“I love you, y’know?” You whisper, and he gently grasps your chin, turning you to face him, and kisses you so gently as if you’ll break. He tastes like stolen pie filling, but you don’t mind. 

He’s so gentle with his love. He always has been. 

It was one of the things you love about him. 

And it was soft, domestic times like this that you treasured the most. 

[redlegumes]

Dec 8th: Dead Give Away, Innit?

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

prompt: Idiots to Lovers | AO3: link | wc: 861 | rating: G | cw: none | tags: Wayne POV, first kiss, oblivious

Summary: Wayne is tired of Steve and Eddie, beating around the bush. It's obvious that when their 'kids' ask them to host a holiday party together they're ready for these two to get together too.

❆˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗❆

Wayne ducked his head out of the kitchen to see Eddie struggling, arms full ,trying to get through their small home’s door. He was about to help when he saw a familiar tan hand and scarred wrist help his nephew. Steve Harrington, back again.

Wayne waited a beat and then headed out after them. Eavesdropping was something he rarely did around Eddie, the boy deserved his privacy, but… he was curious what the two were up to this time. He hung back a little, listening to the young men while standing just inside the front door.

continues after the cut

He didn’t quite hear what Eddie said but he caught Steve’s reply.

“No, this time Max called.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she wanted to make sure we weren’t just ‘throwing it together’ last minute.”

“What a little ingrate,” Eddie exclaimed.

Wayne cracked the door open and watched as Steve leaned in toward Eddie, startling him into a low chuckle. “You love her.”

“You… no, you ‘Mama’ Harrington,” Eddie said, poking Steve in the chest, inches away from his face now. “You know, that’s what they call you.”

Wayne held his breath. Is this it?

Steve stepped back. “I guess I’ve got a reputation to uphold. So you better be bringing your ‘a’ game Eddie.”

“Sports ref-”

Wayne exhaled and stepped outside into the chill, Indiana winter air. Idiots. “-what’s all this now boys?”

Steve waved, and Eddie grinned before picking his gear back up. “The kids insisted we host a holiday party for them,” he huffed, loading an amp and his guitar into the back of the van.

“Yeah, very specific that we head it up,” Steve added, grimacing. “I don’t know why. I mean I’ve thrown some parties but-”

“Oh, really Stevie?”

Wayne folded his arms over his chest as he watched his boy hip check the always well groomed Harrington, slightly throwing him off balance. He also watched as the blush covered the young man’s face, and groaned lightly. The two had been fawning over each other, teasing, and then pulling back every time it looked like they might be finally getting somewhere. It’d been like that since April, and Wayne had just about had his fill.

Steve had already won him over. Harrington wasn’t given a free pass just for saving his nephew’s life, but in the following months he’d proven to be no fair weather friend to the Munsons. He shepherded those kids Eddie cared about too back and forth to physical therapy and just about anywhere else they begged him to. Steve would put on a show, all put upon, but Wayne saw the protective glint in his eye and the smile he hid every time he was ‘pressed’ to help them out. Steve was good people. But tripping over his tongue in front of Eddie was getting a little old.

Wayne suspected their extended friend group felt the same way if Steve and Eddie had been pushed to plan a holiday celebration together.

“The ‘Hair’ and his masterful party skills squandered on a lil event for a group of sophomores,” Eddie wheedled.

“Hey,” Steve protested. “And us, and Robin, she’s bringing Vickie. Jonathan and Nancy will be back in town, your DnD guys-”

“-my bandmates-”

“-both.” Steve tugged on one of Eddie’s curls. “It’s not just the kids.”

Wayne shifted his weight, fighting the urge to light up a cigarette. This has gone on long enough. “So, it sounds like you two are planning. Are the other older teens bringing anything to help out? You know, the couples other than you two. Decorations? Food?”

Steve blinked slowly. “Um, Everyone is bringing white elephant gifts. I recommended they bring snacks and drinks, but I don’t expect anyone to so I make sure to have plenty.”

“Who all is dating who now,” Wayne asked as casually as possible. If these two knuckleheads are going to keep being dense I might as well act oblivious. “I know the redhead is with Sinclair. But I never seem to know who Hopper’s kid is or isn’t seeing. And your Robin is seeing the Carmichael girl.” Steve was mouthing words without sound. Eddie had frozen where he stood. “But I suppose they wanted you two to host since you're the ones who have been together the longest and are still in town.”

Eddie’s face steadily turned bright scarlet. “What would, Wayne, what… Steve and me?”

“Aw, don’t worry none boy.” Eddie’s jaw dropped. “What,” Wayne chuckled, “was it supposed to be a secret? Jeez, you both doing this holiday get together is a bit of a dead give away innit?”

Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Dustin, it was Dustin’s suggestion, and then everyone said we should…”

“Hmmm?” Wayne chose not to catch what he was saying. “Well, my two cents, if you care, is don’t get too worried about making it all perfect. Make sure you both have a good time too.” Wayne turned back to the house to hide his smile. “And don’t forget the mistletoe.”

…

Wayne parted the blinds a few minutes later to catch a quick glimpse of Steve and Eddie wrapped up in each other, kissing as flurries began to fall.

Finally.

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

[masterjedilenawrites]

All I Want for Christmas

Clone x Reader Life Day Exchange 2023

My gift is for the lovely @anxiouspineapple99! Hope you enjoy, and have a wonderful Christmas! 🎁❤️💚

Please go check out the @cloneficgiftexchange blog for all the other contributions to this great event! Fics are being posted all throughout today (12/16). Spread the love for fandom writers/creators by reblogging!

Fives x fem!reader | 2.8k words

Content: fluff, Christmas themes, snuggling for warmth, confessions, friends to lovers

Prompts: "Keep doing that and you'll end up on the naughty list." & "All I want for Christmas is you."

It was a crisp and windy night, though you wouldn't feel the effects of the cold right away. Your eagerness for the evening's activities would fill you with enough warmth for a short while, as would the enjoyable company of your best friend, Fives.

You were surrounded by many friends and clones, a group of you who tried as often as possible to celebrate the year's holidays together. This year, not everyone would be on planet when Christmas Day came around, but you'd all managed to find a night earlier in the month to come together and exchange gifts, share good food, and, as you were about to do now, walk around the neighborhoods to admire the lights.

And while you loved all your friends dearly, it was Fives who you'd been most eager to see. You felt closest to him the most. You seemed to understand each other so well, falling into step right where you'd last left off, as if he hadn't been gone for the past several months. As if there hadn't been whispers that his unit had fallen under attack and may not be coming home this time, leaving you numb with worry. As if you hadn't realized you were in love with him when you heard he would come back after all, safe and sound.

"What the hell is that?" he laughed beside you as you passed by a house that seemed to be quite normal.

"What's what?" You gazed around but could only see the standard set up of dazzling lights and festive lawn ornaments.

Fives wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pointed to two reindeer decorations... that were stacked rather suggestively on top of one another. "That."

You could only momentarily process how close he was, how warm you felt being held like that, before you fell into sync with his laughter. It was a pretty funny thing to come across, especially as Fives began to muse whether the owners of the house set it up that way on purpose or if they were pranked. Either scenario was humorous. He then insisted on taking a photo of you with the indecent display in the background.

Though your laughter over the reindeer had warmed you up, the moment you two spent over it caused you to fall behind the rest of the group. You could no longer see them on the street, nor could you hear their lively sounds of chatter.

"They must have turned that corner up there," Fives said as you two started walking again. He was no longer holding you but was walking alongside you a little closer than before. Or, at least that's what it felt like. Maybe you were just imagining it.

There was a little bit of silence as you passed by the next brightly lit house and admired it. But Fives wasn't one to keep quiet for too long.

"So, what do you want for Christmas?" he asked.

You forced your gaze away from the pretty lights to look at him, noting a flush in his cheeks but deciding it must be the wind.

"What do you mean?"

He chuckled a little. "What do you mean? It's a simple question. What's on your wishlist this year?"

"I just thought... never mind," you shrugged, having thought he wanted to know what to get you, which of course was silly since your group was doing a white elephant exchange this year. "Um, I don't know. There really isn't anything I want, to be honest."

Fives knocked his shoulder into yours, accompanied by a dramatic gasp. "You don't want aaaa-nything? Impossible."

You just smiled and shook your head. "Yeah, not really."

"So you're good? You're perfectly content? Everything in your life is amazing and you're in need of nothing more?"

Of course the answer to his questions was a lot more complicated than the simple "Yep" you responded with. You were content in this moment, walking alongside your best friend, enjoying the festivities of the season in his company. But before this moment, you hadn't really been happy. You'd been worried sick by his absence, impatient to see him again, doubting that he'd be as thrilled to see you. You'd been nothing short of lovesick and you had no idea how to admit such a thing to him now.

"I don't buy it," he said, bumping playfully against you again. "There has to be something."

You finally came up to the corner you assumed your friends had turned down. You took it without thought, knowing it would loop back around to your friend's house. A house that was starting to sound really appealing given that a chill was settling back in.

"Clothes?" Fives asked.

"Huh?"

"Like a nice scarf or a dress or something?" Oh, you realized he was still trying to figure out your Christmas wish list. "Or fuzzy socks?"

"I have plenty of fuzzy socks," you said. And with that thought, you realized your toes were getting rather cold, despite being wrapped in thick socks and boots. That then led to you recognize just how cold you were all over: your nose, your hands, your knees....

"Okay, then how about jewelry? Girls always like jewelry, right?"

You rolled your eyes as you dug your hands deeper into your pockets, searching for warmth. "I don't really need any more jewelry."

You weren't paying much attention to the lights anymore, instead picking up the pace so you could get back to the warmth of your friend's house sooner. Fives didn't seem to care about the lights, either. He was still trying to figure out your supposed Christmas wishlist.

"What about a box of chocolates?"

"I buy enough chocolate as it is."

"A candle?"

"Pretty sure half of the white elephant gifts in there are candles."

"Hm... You like games right?"

"I have enough games."

"Nonsense, you can never have too many games."

"Well, when your friends aren't around to play them with you, you can."

Fives was silent. You looked over to find he was watching you with a sort of sadness in his eyes. No, not sadness... guilt.

"I'm sorry," he said after a beat. "I wish I was around more..."

"No, no," you were quick to jump in, not wanting him to feel that way at all. "It's fine. It is what it is. We all know that."

Fives nodded but didn't seem convinced. He looked away, stared straight ahead, as you passed by the last house and arrived at your friend's. The change of course up to the porch seemed to snap him out of his mindlessness and bring him back into better spirits.

"A puppy!" he declared as you approached the door. Both of you were stomping your shoes against the wood of the porch to dislodge any dirt you'd picked up along the way. "No one in the entire galaxy could say no to a puppy."

You huffed out a laugh of defeat. "Okay, sure, I'll take a puppy for Christmas."

He laughed with you as you opened the front door. You expected a wall of warmth to hit you, accompanied by smells of food and chatter of friends. Instead you were met with dim lights, silence, and a cold that almost rivaled the frigid air you'd just walked in from.

"What the..." Fives joined your confusion in the entry hall, and then snapped his fingers as he realized something. "Kix said he knew someone in this neighborhood. They all must have gone there. We beat them back."

You vaguely recalled passing by a house with loud voices from inside, surely including voices from your friends, but you were too busy trying to warm your hands now to dwell on it further. Fives placed a gentle hand on your back as he scooted past you and down the hall toward the thermostat. He messed with it a bit as you shuffled into the little den off the entry. You were reluctant to remove your coat and scarf when it was still so cold.

"Hm," Fives frowned, joining you a few moments later. He flicked on a lamp on the table beside you. "Heat's not coming on. Something's broken."

"Can you fix it?" You tried not to let your teeth chatter.

"Yeah..." he trailed off and you followed his gaze to the fireplace on the opposite end of the room. His lips quirked, a sign he was going to get up to something. "Or... we could have ourselves a cozy little fire instead!" 

He shuffled around the sofa and started investigating the decorations on top of the mantle.

"What?" you asked as you stepped around the sofa as well.

"Ah ha!" He opened up what had looked to be merely a decoration of an old fashioned truck, but apparently doubled as storage for some matches. In no time, Fives had started a humble fire amongst the wood in the fireplace and was stepping back toward you.

"Take your coat off, get cozy!" he laughed in delight, sitting down on the sofa and patting the cushion next to him.

You reluctantly shrugged off your coat. You could feel little puffs of warm air from the fire but the room overall was still too cold to be comfortable. You let out an involuntary shiver as you joined Fives on the sofa.

"Uh oh," he teased, scooting closer. "Need to cuddle for warmth?"

You knew his offer was in jest, but you couldn't resist the thought, especially when your cheeks were already heating at an alarming rate just by sitting this close. Fuck it, you decided, and promptly slid your arms around his middle and pulled him close.

"Well okay then," he laughed in amusement, wrapping his own arms around you in return. He wasn't angry, which you took as encouragement and buried your frozen nose into the crook of his neck. You felt one of his hands come up to rest on the back of your head, keeping you in place for a wonderful, peaceful moment.

You warmed up fairly quickly, though your fingers still felt numb. Without thinking, you shifted a bit and slid your hands underneath Fives' shirt, seeking the warmth of his skin. His muscles tensed in response.

"Whoa there," he chuckled lowly. "Keep doing that and you'll end up on the naughty list."

The heat from the blush on your cheeks immediately shot through the rest of your body. You were mortified. Fives was your friend, what were you doing?

You detached yourself quickly and mumbled an apology. He was still laughing a bit so you joined in nervously, but not daring to meet his eyes. Not when you were this flustered. He relaxed back onto the sofa and draped an arm along the backside, just beside your head.

"So, um, what do you want for Christmas?" you asked, trying to get past your awkwardness and back to the easygoing state of your friendship, despite the ache deep within your chest that yearned for something more.

"Me? Oh, nothing much."

Now you looked over at him, balking. "Fives!" 

"What?" he grinned.

You swatted at him. "You just gave me shit for not wanting anything!"

"I said I didn't want much, not that I didn't want anything at all."

You huffed. "Okay, then what is this 'nothing much' that you want?"

His smile didn't completely disappear, just settled into something a little softer, more pensive. He cocked his head a bit as he looked at you, considering what to say.

"Would you be mad if I said that all I want for Christmas is you?"

You blinked at first, unable to come up with an other reaction. How could you? How could you process such a confession? Was it even a confession? Or was he just being cheeky?

You forced yourself to clear your throat. "Mad? Confused is more like it."

"Confused?" He smirked for only a second before settling back into that strange and soft look. "What's so confusing?"

"Uh... I mean..." you stammered through an awkward laugh. "What does that even mean? You want me... to do something? To... to... see me? You're seeing me right now..."

Your skin was still alight with a fire that seemed to burn brighter than the one in the fireplace. You were so flustered, and Fives was getting a real kick out of it.

"Calm down, cyare," he laughed, scooting a little closer and taking your hands into his. "I want you, as in, I want to... you know.. be with you."

He was starting to get a little shy himself, though you weren't really paying attention. Your heart was threatening to beat its way out of your chest, so you instead focused on the feeling of Fives' hands wrapped around yours. So warm, so firm. They grounded you just enough for his words to sink in. He wanted to be with you.

Now you felt like you were floating. That nasty knot that had settled into the pit of your stomach, back when you'd thought he wasn't coming home, was finally coming undone. Freeing you from its weight. Letting you soar with hope for a different kind of future with your best friend.

When you finally brought your eyes back up to meet Fives', you could finally see the blush in his own cheeks, the way his eyes searched yours for validation. He'd made himself vulnerable in a way he'd only ever been a handful of times with you. Like when he'd confessed how frustrated he was about the war, how angry it made him sometimes to think about it, how he secretly held dreams of one day escaping and living a normal life somewhere. You thought back to those conversations now, viewing them in a different light. You'd always wondered what his idea of normal was, if it included anyone else... anyone like you. And now you were starting to get an idea that it did.

"I'm sorry if this is sudden," he said quickly and quietly, filling in the silence you didn't mean to leave. "It's just... you know this last mission was... well, it didn't go very well. And it made me reevaluate my life. What I really want. And honestly, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

He gave a bashful smile and you returned it, easing his nerves just a little.

"I was really worried about you," you confessed, giving his hands a reassuring squeeze. "I didn't just want you to come back, I wanted you to come back to me. And I'm so glad you want the same."

You both laughed once more, though more out of relief than nervousness, and ended by resting your foreheads against each other. Fives then let go of your hands so he could bring his arms back around you and pull you close again. You let yourself rest against him with a contented sigh... and then bolted right back up as a thought occurred to you.

"Wait, you said you want me for Christmas?"

"Yeah..." Fives' eyes were wide with alarm.

"Just for Christmas? And that's it?"

The tension immediately left his shoulders as he realized what you were doing. He gave you a look and you used all your willpower to hold back your amusement.

"So when Christmas is all over, you'll be done with me?" you pushed on with the bit. "You won't want me anymore?"

"Ugh, cyare, please," Fives rolled his eyes and tried wrapping his arms around you again.

"I just want to be clear about this." Your voice was breaking, as was his own act to be annoyed. The two of you could never hold it together for very long.

"Of course I'll want you after Christmas is over," he said through a chuckle. "I'll want you for Valentine's and for your birthday and all the solstices..."

"So you only want me on holidays?"

"You're killing me here, you know," he grumbled into your shoulder.

You would've continued with your teasing, but just then the front door opened behind you, letting in your missing friends. Even if you and Fives had tried to act innocent, you wouldn't have been quick enough. Whatever they'd been talking about on their way in immediately changed into a chorus of gasps and cheers.

"Well it's about time!"

"Oh my god!"

"Finally!"

"I knew it!"

You snuggled closer to Fives, in part to hide your embarrassment, but also to escape the wisp of cold air your friends had let in with them. Fives laughed along with the commotion while holding you, and it felt like the most natural thing, being in his arms like this.

"For the record," he later whispered into your ear, when things had died down with your friends enough, "I want you every day for the rest of my life. If you'll have me."

You smiled into his chest and held him closer.

"Of course. You're all I want, too."

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[musicalmoritz]

Do you have any Kousano headcanons?

YAYYYYYY FINALLY A BSD SHIP ASK :D SAPPHIC BSD SPECIFICALLY YES :D

• Okay since BSD isn’t my current hyperfixation this might be tricky BUT I was hyperfixated on it for like half a year not too long ago so I still have loads of info stored up in my brain to be dumped out

• Their first time meeting was when Kouyou was held captive by the Agency during the Guild Arc. They had heard of each other prior to that and being from rival organizations, they went in expecting to be enemies

• Their first impression was a rough one, but there was an underlying thread of chemistry. They matched each other’s banter very well, despite being used to having the final word at their respective organizations. It was a welcomed change

• And they’re both raging lesbians so like…hot lady who is my enemy…many thoughts occur

• It’s very much an enemies AND lovers dynamic, they meet up for secret rendezvous and then fight each other during times of conflict

• The tragic part is that they both like each other, that’s why it’s become an ongoing thing. That’s why they start going on secret dates in disguise, although they both claim to not enjoy it

• In another life they would’ve been soulmates, but their conflicting ideologies and rival positions force them to be enemies (because I like to make things overly romantic, sue me)

• They have a lot of insignificant things in common- favorite desserts, favorite books, etc. Those are important, but they’re also similar personality-wise and with their backstories

• I imagine Yosano dates around a lot and this makes Kouyou insanely jealous. They aren’t official so she technically can’t have a problem with it but it still gets under her skin

• So Yosano’s like “hey if you want to be exclusive just say that, there are no rules to this secret relationship thing” but Kouyou is too stubborn to admit she likes Yosano that much

• Yosano initially takes a very “your trauma is not my business” approach to their differing jobs but as things get more serious she starts to develop a slight savior complex. She goes from being completely unattached to way too attached. She wants to show Kouyou the light the way Ranpo and Fukuzawa did for her

• Speaking of which, there’s only one person who knows about their situationship and that’s Ranpo. He figured it out himself and mentioned it casually to Yosano one day, nearly giving her a heart attack. She knew he would find out eventually but it was very sudden. At least she has someone to vent to when things get especially confusing

• Higuchi and Gin eventually find out too because they catch them at the same lesbian bar

• Pretty soon it becomes an open secret

• I like to imagine there’s a big moment of confrontation between the PM and Kouyou that goes down exactly like the “how long have you been fucking Nate Jacobs?” scene from Euphoria

• Kouyou addresses Yosano as “Doctor” in public and “Akiko” in private

• Kouyou likes to use her mafia money to send Yosano anonymous gifts on a whim. Yosano always knows who they’re from

• Yosano’s favorite physical trait of Kouyou’s is her hair, Kouyou likes Yosano’s sadistic smile

• Speaking of which, Yosano definitely appreciates having a relationship where they get to beat the shit out of each other on occasion. It keeps the spark alive

• But on dates or in settings that are generally more intimate, Yosano is a total gentleman. She def gives all her girls the princess treatment. Kouyou is used to being the one to spoil women so this makes her very flustered

• They had one big fight about Mori and ever since then they made a silent agreement never to bring him up. When things are tense he becomes an elephant in the room

• In traditional “ADA member has a PM-related secret” fashion, Kunikida was the last to find out about their relationship

• This is so completely random but they remind me of Kermit and Miss Piggy. Yosano is Kermit

• Kouyou pretends to be severely injured every time the PM and ADA team up so she has an excuse to see Yosano

• Yosano sends Kouyou pictures of particularly bad crime scenes or injuries at random to jump scare her

• Kouyou likes classical music and Yosano is a metalhead

That’s all I can think of for now, thank you for the ask!!

[magnoliaspringdesign]

(via "Beagle" Classic T-Shirt for Sale by magnoliaspring)

[headcanonsandmore]

Tumblr goofed and wouldn't let me reblog @lonely-space-ace 's post for fic recs so here's my faves.

Tegan/Nyssa

One Word More by Serenbex. Miss Nyssa Traken and Miss Tegan Jovanka come from very different places and very different walks of life. They have nothing in common and don't even really like each other very much. Can changing opinion and changing circumstances help them to better understand themselves and each other? Rated G for General Audiences. AU fic based on ‘North and South’; enemies-to-lovers, a bit of angst with some socialist themes thrown in.

In fact, check out all of Serenbex’s fics; they’re truly fantastic. Special shout-outs to their multi-series epic ‘From The Stars’ (which is still ongoing) and the adorable one-shot ‘Lost In Translation’.

Earthling Customs (and the Aliens that Love Them) by WearyOctopus. After time-engine trouble strands the Tardis in space for several hours, Nyssa claims that Tegan is more than 300 days into her adventures on the Tardis and, thus, due to celebrate Christmas. The four travelers agree to an elaborate yuletide spectacular, some more enthusiastically than others. In the hustle of preparations, Tegan and Nyssa are paired off and begin to sort out their as-yet unspoken feelings for each other. Rated G for General Audiences. Adorable fluff with some excellent ‘The Fifth Doctor is a single dad’ coding.

Keeper Of My Heart by darklioness82. On Terminus, Nyssa gave Tegan a very special parting gift from Traken. Reunited 30 years later, Tegan learns its true value and meaning. Rated G for General Audiences. (Check out darklioness82’s other fics as well; they’re amazing)

Our Times by Ellimac. Tegan meets a mysterious stranger on a plane and accidentally falls in love. Turns out she's an alien, but they can work around that. Multi-chapter AU fic. Rated G for General Audiences.

White Elephant by TechnicolorRevel. Nyssa and Tegan go looking for a gift, at the Doctor's request. They get a bit side tracked. Rated G for General Audiences. Fluff with a bit of grief mixed in.

Quiet by TechnicolorRevel. Tegan has some trouble sleeping her first night on the TARDIS. Rated G for General Audiences. Character study.

Like You I’m Indestructible by Netgirl_y2k. The one where Tegan stays on Terminus with Nyssa. Rated G for General Audiences. What it says on the tin.

in a dream your future had a voice by TechnicolorRevel. Nyssa borrows Tegan's lipstick. Rated G for General Audiences. Cute fluff with a slight of insecurities explored.

Basically, everything Tegan/Nyssa by TechnicolorRevel; they’re really great at writing the pairing.

Show Me More Of This Traken Thing Called Kissing by Doyle. Nyssa makes a formal bid for Tegan's romantic affections. Tegan isn't quite sure what to do with that, really. Rated T for Teen. Really fun fic dealing with cultural differences in regards to courtship rituals.

Drag Me Through The Best of Years by Aces. An exploration over time of Tegan and Nyssa’s relationship, building on missing moments through their time together. A really sweet fic. Rated G for General Audiences.

The Many Proposals Of Tegan And Nyssa by LonelySpaceAce. What it says on the tin; its literally just these two being in love and proposing multiple times. Rated G for General Audiences. @lonely-space-ace is amazing at writing these two being adorable dorks.

Just read everything by LonelySpaceAce, because they’re amazing.

Amsterdam by LissyStrata. Left alone in Amsterdam for the weekend, Nyssa gets into some substances she shouldn't and Tegan looks after her. (Takes place after Arc of Infinity). G for General Audiences, but does technically involve some drug usage. Fluff with some hurt/comfort. Very funny. @lissy-strata is great at this.

Frozen like me by Calapine. Tegan and Nyssa struggle to keep warm in freezing temperatures. This one was originally posted to LiveJournal back in 2004, so don’t ever think that Tegan/Nyssa is a recent fandom development.

to love the light, the fire's spark, you must first have been buried in the deep down dark by TechnicolorRevel. Nyssa might have been good at diplomacy, but she'd always felt like she wasn't very good at her own feelings. Rated T for Teen. Really excellent bit of character writing for Nyssa.

Day By Day (By Day) by Settiai. If the Doctor wanted to disappear for a week with Adric in tow, leaving Nyssa and Tegan alone in the TARDIS...... well, who were they to argue? Rated T for Teen. Really cute slice-of-life fluff.

Language Transparency by JohnAmendAll. The TARDIS's ability to translate everything you say, hear and read is so convenient. Why wouldn't you want it? Rated T for Teen. Mild angst with a lot of fluff (and even a little saucy towards the end).

We Found Wonderland by rorybluebox. Snippets of Tegan and Nyssa falling in love. Rated G for General Audiences. Lots of sweet fluff.

Borrowed Anxiety by mylordshesacactus. A couple of “missing moments” style scenes between Tegan and Nyssa. Rated G for General Audiences.

First Snowfall by orphan_account (their AO3 homepage is discontinued, apparently). Nyssa's never seen snow before, and Tegan tries to rectify this. Rated G for General Audiences. Very sweet fluff.

A Very Silly Battle by evilqueenofgallifrey (MayFairy). Tegan teaches Nyssa about pillowfights. In addition to getting hit with pillows, they also both get hit with soft gay feelings. Rated G for General Audiences. Very cute fluff. Side note; this was one of the first Tegan/Nyssa fics I ever read because @evilqueenofgallifrey has a blog on Tumblr and posted this on here.

Hope and Dust by padawanpooh. Short character study about Tegan and Nyssa, and why they travel with the Doctor. Not a ship pairing per-say, but this is Tegan and Nyssa so they have that underlying undercurrent to their friendship anyway.

Singing In The Wilderness by warp_n_wolf. London, 1988. It's been four years since Tegan walked out on the Doctor, after one trauma-fest too many and losing one friend more than she could bear. She's been coping - really she has! And then of all the pubs in all Earl's Court, Nyssa walks into hers... Rated T for Teen. Very sweet fic, with some interesting insights into Traken courtship rituals.

Thasmin (Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan)

I Think You Might Like Me by Holie47. The Doctor asks Yaz to try and help her figure out what's going on and ends up coming to a realisation. Rated G for General Audiences. Cute Thasmin first kiss.

In This World Of Strangers I Belong To Someone by timetravelbypen. Autumn, 1904, London. Yasmin Khan is newly arrived in the city, eager to start the law degree she's spent so much time working towards. Determined to prove her worth to sceptical classmates and professors, she throws herself into her work. But a chance encounter with eccentric clockmaker Johanna Smith - and a mystery surrounding a progressive pamphlet written by someone called the Doctor - might just remind her she's worth more than her doubters could ever imagine. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Edwardian!AU with human!Thirteenth Doctor. One of the best Thasmin fics I’ve ever read (if not THE best!). There’s also a series of short sequels which you can find here.

to know how it ends and still begin to sing it again (as if it might turn out this time) by  Eriadu and timetravelbypen. They’ve been here before. The Doctor always sidestepping, always avoiding; Yaz always following, always hoping. But in a museum simulation of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, confronted by an all-too familiar tragedy, the cracks begin to show. If they’re going to get out alive, something has to change. They’ve been here before… this time, can they make it through? Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Thasmin fic, set inbetween ‘Legend Of The Sea Devils’ and ‘The Power Of The Doctor’; some really interesting and in-depth characterisation for both Yaz and the Thirteenth Doctor, with some awesome sci-fi elements too.

Flying Lessons by timetravelbypen. A series of vignettes set between Ryan and Graham's departure in Revolution of the Daleks and the end of The Power of the Doctor. In which Yaz learns to fly the TARDIS, and learns just how capable - and how loved - she is in the process. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Just a word of warning, to quote the author; “there is a reference to an attempted suicide/self-harm in line with its depiction in Can You Hear Me as Yaz and the Doctor encounter someone else in a similar situation and Yaz deals with some flashbacks. If you would prefer not to read that, you can skip Lesson Five: Controlled Fall.”.

falling down the stairs (of your love) by timetravelbypen. The gravitational pull Yaz has over the Doctor is unavoidable, inescapable. The Doctor is falling for Yaz... and the Doctor is also falling. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Thasmin sweetness set after ‘Legend Of The Sea Devils’. Fluffy with a bit of angst; very sweet.

Two Idiots In A Box by timetravelbypen. Dan realizes quickly that, if left to their own devices, Yaz and the Doctor are never going to just talk to each other like functional adults. So he and the TARDIS hatch a plan. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. So funny and so sweet!

In fact, just read anything by timetravelbypen; they’re an amazing writer and understand these characters and Doctor Who so well!

Miniature #13 - The World Will Wait For Us by vaelerius. Yaz and the Doctor go on a totally-not-an-actual-D.A.T.E in Sheffield to Yaz's favourite restaurant. What could possibly go wrong? Rated G for General Audiences. Easily one of the funniest Thasmin fics out there; this is a good one to read when you want cheering-up.

(Un)familiar by EvvieJo. Yaz is trying to settle into her post-Doctor, UNIT life. Rated G for General Audiences. Less of a Thasmin fic per-say as opposed to a bit of closure for Yaz after leaving the Doctor, although it does have a lot of Thasmin elements to it.

The year of the cat by zurau. post-lotsd. thirteen disappears, again. a cat appears. it's some consolation. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Funny fic about a mysterious cat that appears whilst the Tirteen Doctor has disappeared; you can probably guess where this is going…

Candy Floss And A Carousel by 13beautifulghostmonument. Team TARDIS make a festive stop over in Cardiff. Yaz and the Doctor finally admit to their feelings. Rated G for General Audiences. Very cute and sweet.

All The Time In The World by Metal_Gear_Steve. Yasmin has developed feelings for the Doctor, but she isn't sure how to bring this up with anyone. Ryan and Graham have settled after their first few crazy adventures, so it's not like she can rely on the "adrenaline and whimsy" excuse to explain her standoffish behavior forever - sooner or later, she has to bite the bullet and confess her feelings to the Doctor. But there's so much that she doesn't know about the Doctor, and any number of factors could get in the way of a potential relationship. Will Yasmin's confession be successful? Is there room in The Doctor's heart for a new love after a multitude of relationships, most ending in disaster? Will Graham get to try that alien ice cream again, with what's-its-name seeds in it? I guess we'll find out - we've got All the Time in the World. Rated G for General Audiences. Some really wonderful fluff; super sweet.

Our Moment on the Beach by docwhovians. When Yaz and the Doctor find themselves held prisoner a hostile pirate ship, there's not a whole lot they can do except talk. Feelings that have been brewing come to a head. When the moment is interrupted by an order to walk the plank, things get interesting. Rated G for General Audiences. Really cute fluff with some pirate stuff.

A Home For The Holidays by mag_lex. In which Yaz and the Doctor visit Yaz’s family for Christmas after the events of the Flux, and Najia decides to intervene when she realises something is going on between them… Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Sweet domestic fluff and a little bit of angst thrown in (since it is related to series 13 of the modern series).

i will always hold you close but i will learn to let you go by jodieoswald. Yaz listens to Dan's advice, and takes the leap, hoping that the Doctor will listen. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Angst with some fluff and a happy ending. Very sweet and tender.

The One With The Hen Do by isabrella. Yaz takes the Doctor to a friend's hen party to cheer her up. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Angst with a happy ending; very tender. 

Confessions by SimpleSapphic. Set directly after Eve of the Daleks (and directly after thasmin becoming canon may I add akshakdhsksh), Dan does what Dan does best: he plays wingman to get those two to *finally* confess their feelings and actually do something about it. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. A fair bit of angst but with some really sweet fluff at the end. Gotta love wingman Dan!

The Lodger by bells_n_roses. The Doctor moves in with Yaz to investigate the mysterious upstairs lodger. As they spend more time together, however, feelings start to build. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Very cute and sweet, but with some mild angst mixed in.

I Still Burn For You by timelostdoctor. Yazmin Khan and the Doctor's relationship has been over for ten months. Ten months in which they haven't seen or spoken to each other. With Sonya and Ryan getting married, they are both part of the wedding party. How can they find happiness for their friends when they both wish it was their wedding instead. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Oooh, mate; this is one of the tenderest Thasmin fics I’ve ever read (complete with a human!Thirteenth Doctor); sweet with just the right mix of angst, and a good bit of humour as well! Always worth a read when you want something to get lost it (and, yes, I hope that Mandip Gill has read this one since she asked for fanfic recs).

Live inside my mind forever by timelxrd. Yaz fell asleep precisely ten minutes and thirty-two seconds ago. The Doctor knows, because it’s been ten minutes and thirty seconds since she’d had to consciously regulate her breathing and the rise and fall of her chest against Yaz’s soft cheek so not to jostle her. Rated G for General Audiences. Cute fluff about cuddling and hair-plaiting.

Cuppa? by softly-penned-valkyrie (softly_speaking_valkyrie). The Doctor's slipping and she knows it. Everything's getting too much for the first time in thousands of years and she's finally having trouble coping with it mentally. How often does that happen? Following a double adventure involving the Judoon, incredible revelations and alien birds, it all becomes too much to handle, and when the TARDIS itself nudges at Yaz to go help the Doctor alone, it becomes a little too much for the copper too. But when the Doctor lands in Yaz's kitchen desperate for help, how can she refuse the woman she loves.... Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Fluff, hurt/comfort and some mild angst.

not-so-fake-feelings (and their very real consequences) by ActuallyMe. Yaz needs someone to pretend to be her partner whilst some really annoying family friends are in town. Turns out, the Thirteenth Doctor is happy to play along… Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences. Fake dating scenario, with some hilarious fluff.

astronomy in reverse (it was me who was discovered) by transboytwelve. Fake dating, bed-sharing, camping fic; Thirteen has to pretend to be Yaz’s partner for a family get-together. Hijinks and definitely-not-just-platonic confusion ensues. Rated T for Teen and Up Audiences.

[hades--baby]

Frozen Blood and Warm Hands

Summary: Price knew that you were aching to get back out on the field and get your hands a little dirty. You'd been stuck on base for too long and he could tell that you were starting to get antsy, so he assigned you to a mission that would have you stationed out in Russia for a few months. He also assigned Lieutenant Simon Riley and Sergeant John MacTavish to join you on said mission, hoping that the tight quarters of the little safe house you'd be stuck in would resolve whatever tension set between the three of you. Fortunately for you, the tight quarters and a near-death experience would force the three of you to acknowledge the elephant in the room: the love you three shared for each other and what the fuck you were going to do about it.

Note: This is my first COD fic so I'm a little scared to post, but I hope y'all enjoy :)

Word Count: 7224

The light knocks you rapped against your Captain’s office door had been quiet and polite, almost as if you hadn’t wanted to bother him (even though he had quite literally been the one to summon you to his quaint office). A muffled “come in” sounded out from the other side of the thick door and you waited another beat before swinging it open. 

“You asked to speak with me, sir?” you said as you stepped into Price’s office. 

“I did,” he said, adjusting his posture to sit up in his seat properly. You shut his office door behind you and stood at attention in front of his wooden desk. He paused his movement and glanced up at you for a few moments before chuckling to himself as he shook his head. “At ease, Frost.”

“Thought you were gonna have me standing there all day, Pricey,” you joked, adding on the little nickname you had so graciously gifted him a while back. 

A small smile graced Price’s face, one that he didn’t mind you seeing. He knew that the second he dismissed you, the typical military formalities that were ingrained into every soldier’s mind would be thrown out the damn window. Meetings with you were always a rollercoaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You walked forward and plopped down onto one of the comfy chairs set in front of his desk. He casually held out his cigar to you—as he did every time you came into his office—and you kindly plucked it from his calloused grip, taking a deep drag for yourself as he shuffled a few files around. He eventually flipped one of them open, scanned the papers, and then set it down in front of you. 

“I have your next mission,” he said, sliding the file over while holding his other hand out. You took one last solid drag from the expensive cigar before handing it back over to him. You picked the file up and flicked it open. Your eyes trailed over the small words printed in fading black ink, taking in the surprise of the mission. 

“You’re sending me to Russia?”

He nodded. 

“In the middle of winter?”

Another nod. 

“For a month?”

One last nod. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” you said, shaking your head as you dropped the file back onto his desk. 

“Come on now, don’t fret. You won’t be freezing your arse off alone,” he said, letting a tight-lipped smile pull over his face. You knew that look all too well. “I’m sending Ghost and Soap along with you.”

“You know, I think I’d actually prefer to spend a month on my own in the snow, sir,” you muttered, eyes flashing wide for a split second as you snatched the file back up to look over the fine details. 

“You say that as if you don’t spend every waking moment with them,” he said, giving you a pointed look. You sent him a faux glare and reached over to pluck the cigar from his hand again. A smug smirk fell over his lips as he leaned back in his seat. “Thought you’d be happy to spend a month alone with your lover boys.”

“Don’t call them that,” you said as you looked away and sank in your seat, but that wasn’t enough to hide the light blush that had dusted over the expanse of your face. 

Truth be told, you were absolutely ecstatic to be sent on a long-term mission with Ghost and Soap. 

They would make the job easier. 

Make the days pass by a little faster. 

Make your life a little more enjoyable. 

And perhaps the close quarters would give you the courage to finally answer the salient question that they had asked in the privacy of your own room. Much to your surprise, they had proposed an offer of being a beloved addition to their relationship. 

To be the muse of their waking moments and restful dreams. 

To be one of the very reasons they fought every night and day to stay in this torturous reality no matter how dark and scary it could be. 

You had been mulling over the damned question for the past week even though your answer had been set on the tip of your tongue the moment they had asked. 

You just couldn’t seem to get it out. 

You had shared intimate moments with both of the men before. 

Nothing crazy. 

Just little things. 

Little things like sharing the quiet moments after a long, rough mission to patch each other up. Or waking up on a cold morning to see a steaming cup of fresh coffee sitting on your bedside table with a little note scrawled out in Soap’s handwriting, letting you know that breakfast was ready whenever you were. Or the peaceful nights where you sat on the roof of the barracks, watching the stars in good company. Or even the times when you’re tucked away in Ghost’s room, taking long, burning sips from a bottle of bourbon he’d stashed in his desk drawer while Soap schooled you both on why Scotch was a much better choice when trying to soothe a soldier’s soul. 

You had always thought that they were just playing nice with you; per Price’s orders, or something along the lines of that. Taking care of a fellow soldier who was a part of their team because that’s just what you did with the people you knew were watching your six out on the field. 

However, there had always been moments where you truly started to question whether or not they were doing it just because you were a fellow soldier or if it was because you meant more to them than just someone they worked with. 

One of those moments had been when they had found you tucked away in the dark expanse of your room. Harsh tremors shook your hands, ragged breaths overtook your tight lungs, and jarring meaningless words slipped from your lips in self-deprecating whispers. 

Your mind felt as if you had slipped through the cracks of thick ice over a frozen lake and started drowning in the freezing murky water of your own thoughts and memories of the traumas of life and war. 

Simon and Johnny had somehow found a way to ease you out of your own chilling mind. They seemed to know exactly how to calm you down and how to bring you back to the reality your mind had managed to fret from. They had set themselves at your sides, pulling you into a tight press between their large figures. And it truly wasn’t until Simon had lifted the bottom half of his mask up to his nose and pressed light kisses to the crook of your neck as Soap gently grazed his calloused fingertips over your face that you realized that what you thought was just simple care from your comrades was much more than just that. 

They had stayed with you, just like that, for the entire night. 

They asked you to be with them a few weeks later. 

Touching on how much they adored you. 

How much they craved to have you by their sides every moment they could rightfully steal you away. 

How much they loved you.

And good Lord you wanted to say yes right then and there, but you knew that there were things that you had to work out before giving them an answer. Things you wanted to figure out before stepping into something you so desperately wanted to be a part of.

After all, the military was an unforgiving place and you were a little terrified that it would tear the three of you apart if anyone with ill intent were to find out. 

So you told them that you had to… think about it.  

“Are they supposed to be babysitting me or am I supposed to be babysitting them?” you asked before taking a nice slow drag from the cigar pinched between your fingers. 

“A bit of both, just to be safe,” Price answered, humor lacing his tone. 

“Fucking fantastic,” you muttered, setting the file back down with a sigh. “When do we leave?”

“Two days from now at 0600.” He took the cigar back with a wink and a nod. “Have fun in the cold, kid.”

“God damn, it’s as cold in here as it is out there,” you snapped as you stepped into the safe house that you, Ghost, and Soap were meant to be sharing for the next month or so. A shiver ran down your spine as you stepped further into the house. 

“Someone get a fuckin’ fire started,” Soap said, rubbing his hands over his arms in an attempt to warm up. 

“Do it yourself, Johnny,” Ghost said flatly as he shut the door behind him. Soap huffed a bit as he grabbed a few pieces of firewood that were neatly stacked and kneeled down in front of the fireplace. You smiled a bit, finding it amusing that he was actually doing as he was told. 

And while the two of them figured out the whole fire situation, you decided to take a look around the small cabin that you found yourself situated in. Honestly, it wasn’t all that bad. There was a decent-sized kitchen, the living room was surprisingly cozy, and there seemed to be enough firewood to last you ages. 

The only thing that really seemed to strike a nerve with you was the bedroom. 

You swore you were going to strangle Price when you got back to base. 

In the very middle of the cozy room was only one comfortable-looking bed. Sure, it was large enough to fit the three of you, but you’d have to be really snuggled up together to make it work. You silently cursed Price again, making a mental note to snag one of his nice cigars as payback. 

“Anything exciting in here?” Soap asked, appearing right behind you in the doorway. He spotted the one bed you had been staring at and huffed out a heavy laugh. “Hey, LT, get a load of this!”

The other man in the house silently stepped up behind you, shamelessly pressing his chest up against your back. He immediately spotted what you had been grimacing at and what the Scotsman beside you had been grinning at. 

“I’ll take the couch so you two can have the bed,” you said, not wanting to deal with either of their badgering about who’d sleep where. 

“Not so fast, lass,” Soap said, shaking his head with the same grin on his face. 

“It’s too cold to be sleeping separately out here. We’d be better off sleeping together,” Ghost said, backing Soap up without a hint of hesitation.

Regardless of the cold, you felt a light wave of heat fall over your face and a faded red dust on your already rosy cheeks. He could have worded that better, the three of you knew it, but it didn’t matter.

“I think I’ll take my chances with the couch and the fireplace in the living room,” you muttered, not wanting to overstep a boundary, especially when you still hadn’t given them an answer to their proposition. 

And although you were acting in protest, you knew that they were right about the cold. The three of you would be better off sleeping together in one bed, sharing all the body heat you could to keep your toes from freezing off.

So to avoid any further argument, you sighed and tossed your rucksack into the room, simply letting it be. Ghost and Soap took that as your resignation from the couch and into the bedroom with them. Without another word, you pivoted on your heel and walked back out into the living room, hoping to get the chill out from your bones by sitting next to the fireplace.  

“Jesus fuck—if this place doesn’t warm up soon, I might actually lose it,” you said, switching between rubbing your hands together and holding your palms out towards the fire. 

“You could always come cuddle up to me, Frost,” Soap joked, sending a cheeky grin and a wink in your direction. You rolled your eyes and tucked your chin into the popped collar of your coat, hoping to hide your face enough so neither of the men could see the light blush that had graced your face. Then again, you could always just play off your rosiness by blaming it on the damn cold. 

“You two need to rest up while you can. We head out at 0800 tomorrow,” Ghost said, his eyes flicking between you and Soap before he slipped into the bedroom. 

“He’s right. It’s already pretty late and we have an early morning,” you said, nodding your head as you stood from your place in front of the fireplace. The three of you had arrived late in the day at the drop point and with the additional couple kilometer hike to the safehouse—it was safe to say that you were ready to tuck in and fall asleep. 

“And bring some of that wood in here. There’s a fireplace in the room too,” Ghost called out from the bedroom. You grabbed a few pieces, passing them over to Soap as you both made your way into the room. Ghost got to work on the fire while you quickly changed into a few thick, comfortable layers to sleep in. 

There were already at least three blankets on the bed and you prayed that the blankets combined with the boys’ body heat would be enough to keep you warm throughout the night. You looked back at the bed for a moment, taking a deep breath as you tried to piece together the words that were scattered in your skull.

It’s not like you three hadn’t shared a bed before. 

It would just be like all those other times. 

Except this time, you knew something that you hadn’t known before:

They loved you. 

At least, that’s what they told you. 

“Have you thought about what we talked about the other day?” Soap asked, slinking up behind you. He rested his hands on your hips, gently squeezing your supple skin. You smiled softly, catching yourself leaning back into the warm embrace of his broad chest. 

You appreciated how Soap didn’t let a teasing tone lace his words this time around. 

The jokes had been set aside. 

Now he was just truly curious. 

You took a deep breath and let it out in a quiet sigh, one that Ghost noticed, regardless of how subtle it had been in your mind.

“Yeah, I’ve thought about it,” you said, nodding your head. 

“And?” Ghost said, stepping in front of you. 

The two men had successfully pressed you between their bodies, keeping you nice and warm. You kept your eyes away from them for a moment. Well, there’s no better time than the present, you supposed. You slowly lifted your head and took a deep breath. 

“We’re gonna have to hide this from certain people, you know? People who are too stuck in the old-fashioned military ways to acknowledge something like this,” you said, looking between the two men. “We all know how the military feels about there being more than two people in a relationship and with you two technically being my superiors…” 

And though you had been trying to address a serious concern of yours, Ghost and Soap couldn’t help but feel ecstatic because the fact that you were bringing up your concerns meant that you were willing to try. They knew that airing out your concerns was your way of saying “yes” to them. 

“We’ll figure all of that out together, if you’re willing to,” Soap said, resting his face in the crook of your neck, something that you had learned to love so tenderly. Simon leaned his forehead against yours and you willfully closed your eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m willing.”

“Are we clear to move forward?” you asked over comms, waiting for Ghost to give the all-clear to proceed. Your lieutenant was hidden away in a treeline not too far from the base you and Soap were meant to be infiltrating. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out intel retrieve. 

Quick, stealthy, and easy. 

“Affirmative. You two are clear to move in,” Ghost said, his raspy voice reverberating over the comms. 

You glanced over at Soap and nodded your head towards the door, earning a nod back. The two of you entered the building and went your separate ways. You made your way down the dark corridors, shouldering your rifle as you aimed to favor the small pistol in the holster wrapped around your thigh. While the others on your task force seemed to prefer to keep their rifle in hand when clearing a building, you learned that you preferred to have something a little smaller and lighter. It made life a little earlier when it came to sudden close combat situations. 

You carefully checked each corner, going through all the straights and turns you needed to go down in order to get to the room you were meant to be in. Comms had gone silent, a mutual understanding of the peace and quiet needed when it came down to a mission like this. The three of you couldn’t necessarily talk unless you wanted to get caught. Wouldn’t be much of a stealth mission if you were just out in the open for everyone to hear and see. 

A couple of gunshots popped and echoed throughout the dark hallway, making you halt and press yourself against the nearest wall. Shouts of Russian orders followed the loud gunshots and you let out a quiet groan. 

“Soap, please tell me that wasn’t you,” you muttered into the comm system, trying to keep your voice as quiet as you could. 

“Yeah about that—” he started, sounding out of breath as more shots began to echo throughout the corridors. “Get the info and then meet at the rendezvous point. I’ll lead most of them out of the building to buy you some time.”

“God damn it,” you said, shaking your head as you continued down your path. 

You were surprised that Ghost hadn’t chimed in and said something about Soap’s position being compromised, though you were sure that he’d say something sooner or later. 

You hastily found the room you needed and immediately got to work, searching for the important files that Price needed you to retrieve. Thankfully, they were easy to find. A deep breath heaved out of you as the file began to download onto your hard drive. The gunshots outside started to get closer and closer, making your knee involuntarily bounce and your nerves cloud up in your throat. The system finally chimed when the files were done downloading. You snatched the hard drive up and shoved it into one of your pockets. 

“Alright, time to go,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed your pistol. You made your way out of the room, keeping a wary eye on your surroundings. “I’ve got the files. En route to the rendezvous point.”

“Both of you need to hurry your arses up,” Ghost snapped, annoyance lying in the undertone of his deep voice.

“Thanks for the outstanding advice, LT. I’m hauling ass as fast as I can,” you said, rolling your eyes as you continued to make your way out of the building. “We’re going to have to lay real low for a bit after this one.”

“No shit.” 

The moment your boots met the snow outside, a loud gunshot cracked in your direction. A group of Russian soldiers were heading right for you, guns in hand and braced against their shoulders as they started to gain some ground on you. You immediately started running and Soap suddenly popped up beside you. 

“What the fuck happened?” you shouted. 

“Slight complication,” he said through heavy breaths. 

“You mean you got caught.”

“Oh haud yer wheesht,” he snapped back. 

The treeline that your rendezvous point was set in quickly came into view. Your eyes fell upon the frozen lake set between you and the treeline and you let out a huff of a breath. 

“We can get to the rendezvous point faster if we cross over the lake instead of going around it. We can take them out once we get some cover in the treeline,” you said, jutting your head towards the frozen lake beside you. 

“ Take the damn shortcut,” Ghost snapped. “I’ll give you two some cover fire.”

You prayed that the lake was frozen all the way through. 

Only one way to find out. 

You took the risk and let out a sigh of relief when the ice didn’t budge beneath your weight. 

“Shortcut it is,” Soap said, dropping onto the ice beside you before taking off again. 

You and Soap made it close to the treeline, almost off of the faulty ice when a piercing crack near your feet echoed over the horizon. The two of you slid to a stop, knowing exactly what the sound was. The ice had cracked somewhere near. You forced yourself to take a deep breath as you tried to figure out what your next move would be. Slowly shifting your weight between your feet, the ice started to crack even more. 

“Oh, we’re pure pan breed now,” Soap muttered under his breath. 

“Fuckin’ Scots,” you muttered back, wishing you knew what he had said. 

“What the fuck are you two muppets standing around for? Keep moving!” Ghost snapped over the comms, no doubt watching us from the little perch he was hiding away in. 

“Ice cracked, LT,” Soap said, looking around just as you were. Bullets flying in from behind started to crack the ice even more, making you and Soap flinch. He grabbed your wrist and whipped you back into motion. “Fuck it, we have to go!”

He was right. You needed to move and—at the very least—make it to Ghost. Let the damned ice crack behind you, you were not about to get fucking shot—

And just with your luck, a gleaming bullet whizzed through the thin air and lodged itself right into your back, nuzzling into the small gap of flesh that your tactical vest didn’t cover. There was zero traction between the soles of your boots and the ground and you soon found yourself slipping and crashing through the thin ice beneath you.

Icy water encased your entire figure, seeping through all of the trusty layers you were wearing until you were soaked down to the bone. Your body had immediately stiffened, lungs filling with the chilled liquid. The pain in your side could barely be felt as a prickly sensation overtook your limbs, leaving you with nothing but a stinging sensation to crawl over your skin. 

Your mind had stopped working.

It was as if the painfully low temperatures had severed any connection from your brain to your body. 

You tried to wade your arms through the water to keep yourself afloat, but the harsh convulsions racking through your shrinking lungs and tingling hands made it nearly impossible. 

You tried, and tried, and tried. 

But to no avail, you felt the cold completely set in and your mind finally blanked. 

“Grab her, Johnny! I’ll cover you!” Ghost shouted, finally appearing from the treeline.

Soap rushed over to where you had disappeared through the ice. He reached his hands into the dark water to grab onto your limp figure that had started to sink further into the freezing water. Ghost made quick work of the remaining soldiers, lodging two bullets in each of their figures until they were all slumped and limp on the ground, completely out of commission. He turned around just in time to see Soap pulling their own limp soldier from the icy depths. 

“Come on, Frost. Up and at ‘em,” Soap said, hooking his arms under yours and dragging you off of the cracked ice. You groaned and opened your eyes a sliver, teeth chattering. He easily spotted the crimson blood seeping through the layers that were covering your lower back and staining the white snow beneath you. 

“We need to get them to the safe house,” Ghost said. 

“We’re a solid klick out, but we can make quick work of it if one of us takes their heavier gear,” Soap said. He grabbed the bandana tied to his belt and placed it over the bullet wound on your back, putting as much pressure on the wound as you could.

They were lucky that you had fallen into the ice water right after getting shot. The imminent level of hypothermia would help with slowing the bleeding down, hopefully giving them the leeway that they needed to get you to the safe house without you bleeding out on them. But Soap knew that the ill temperatures wouldn’t stop the bleeding altogether and none of that would actually matter if the hypothermia took you from them first.  

He quickly gathered all of your gear and strapped it to his own body. 

“Let’s get going,” he said, nodding his head. 

Ghost managed to get you on his back, keeping your cold body draped over his. He could hear the shallow breathing of his companion, your teeth chattering louder and louder by the minute breaths you had been taking. 

“Stay with us, Frost,” he said, his voice fighting against the whipping wind. 

You let out a quiet grunt in response in hopes of letting him know that you were still around, but you could feel your eyes closing as your head dipped further into the tall man’s shoulder. 

The trek to the safehouse had been horrid. 

The two men completely dreaded the kilometer they had to run with all of the extra weight on their shoulders. Though, to be perfectly clear, they weren’t dreading the actual work of the trek. It was more so they were dreading how long it took because they knew that every minute—every second—that passed was another moment closer to something fatal happening to the person they had come to love so dearly. 

Ghost’s usual nerves of steel were rattled. 

This was the first time in a very long time that he had felt like this. 

Scared. 

This was the first time in a long time that he had felt truly scared. 

Johnny seemed to always test his resolve when they were out on the field together, but the Scotsman always found his way home (never completely unscathed, but he would, at the very least, make it to his own bunk after every mission). When your life was added to the roster of people Simon cared about, his worry nearly doubled any time their military-issued boots touched hostile ground. 

Watching you crash through the ice and take a die into the dark water had practically made his heart stop in his chest. It was enough to make him willingly blow his cover in the safe depths of the treeline that the three of you were meant to rendezvous in. 

He wasn’t ready to lose you. 

Not when he had just let you in. 

He had opened the doors and let you in to see the chaos of his mind and heart, something only Johnny had seen before you had managed to slip into their lives. 

He didn’t want to lose the gentle touch that you had brought into his life. 

The gentle touch of your hands as they ran over the dark tattoos painted over his forearms. The gentle touch of your voice as you eased him through an episode after a mission. The gentle touch of your eyes as they raked over the bottom half of his face when he lifted his balaclava to his nose in order to take a sip from the burning bottle of bourbon they had decided to share. 

He refused to lose you. 

Simon refused to let you be taken from him. 

“Thank fuck, we made it,” Soap breathed out, snapping Ghost out of the trance of his own thoughts. 

They had finally made it to the safe house. 

Once they were inside, Soap immediately started working on getting a fire started while Ghost set your limp form on the floor near the fireplace. 

“We gotta warm them up slowly and take care of the bullet wound,” Ghost said, kneeling down in front of you. You had stopped shivering. He knew that you were hitting a detrimental point in your state of hypothermia and that in tandem with all that blood loss… it could be a matter of minutes before you slipped from their hold. “Alright, Frost, I’m gonna start undressing you now. You still with us?”

You barely nodded in response. 

“I need a verbal confirmation, Frost.”

“I’m… I’m still with you,” you forced out, your words slurring as your blue lips barely moved. 

“Good. Keep it that way.”

Everything felt… hot. 

It felt as if you were fucking burning from the inside out. 

You were practically begging Ghost to just take all of your layers off. You knew that you passed the point of feeling cold and you couldn’t seem to fully process the way your skin tingled and burned. Ghost’s hands unbuckled and unstrapped the rest of your gear from your body, dragging away the heavy tactical vest (that should have stopped the damn bullet that was wedged in your lower back) and the belts and holsters that were wrapped around your limbs like damned vices. 

Soap had gotten a fire started in both the living room and the bedroom, grabbing the med kit in the process of making his way back around to the pair curled up near the fire. 

“Help me sit them up, Johnny.”

Soap carefully sat you up and set himself behind you to keep you propped up just as Ghost wanted. You winced as you felt your skin stretch from the movement, the edges of your wound being pulled into an uncomfortable expanse. With your mind lacking the energy to make you scream, you were reserved to quiet winces and groans to show your pain. 

Your skin had paled far too much and both of the men started to feel more and more frightened for your poor state of well-being. They had never seen you in such a state of weakness. You had always been the bright-eyed addition to the team. The soldier that lifted the morale of others around them no matter how shitty the situation was. 

To see the star of their life so dull in their arms terrified them.

Ghost made quick work of peeling your boots and pants off next, glancing up at your eyes here and there to make sure they were still open. They were half-open, but they were still open, which was all that mattered to them right now. 

Soap put a heavy hand on the bullet wound on your back, keeping pressure on it as he looked down at your face. He craned his head to the side, trying to keep sight of your paling facial features. The fact that you looked so near to the color of death… he couldn’t bring himself to finish his thought. 

His eyes were stuck on the light ice crystals that had clung to your lashes, hovering over your heavy-lidded eyes. Eyes that he had easily lost himself in before. During long mission debriefs, in the mess while you joke around with the rest of the task force, and when you would solemnly stare off on the way to another mission drop point. 

Though, his favorite time to lose himself within the pools of your eyes, was when you were laid out on his or Simon’s bed, talking about everything and anything that came to mind. He fell in love with the way your eyes lit up every time you talked about something you seemed to have so much passion for. He adored the way your eyes seemed to brighten every time he sent a harmless flirt your way. He craved to see the way your eyes melted into his every time his hands touched your skin. 

“Get them talking,” Ghost said, looking up at Soap for a moment. The young Scotsman cleared his throat, thoughts of the warmth their eyes usually provided dissipating from his mind. 

“Hey, lass,” he started, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he tried to get your attention. Your head lifted slightly, brow furrowed, and your eyes—the eyes he had fallen so in love with—gleamed with confusion. He prayed that the memory loss that typically came with the harsher levels of hypothermia hadn’t set in yet. Your head lulled to the side for a moment before you looked up at him. “Can you tell us what your name is?”

You muttered your own name, the dull whisper almost getting lost in the whistling of the wind outside. 

Soap hummed in response. 

“And what do the boys in uniform call you?”

You took a moment to remember your own call sign. 

“Frost,” you answered. 

“Good that, Frost,” he said, nodding his head. He used his free hand to open up the med kit, knowing that he needed to work fast. 

Ghost stood to his feet and started stripping away his own gear, throwing everything aside as he worked quickly. He silently winced as the cold air nipped at his skin. The fire had started to warm the cabin up, but it still wasn’t enough. If he was still feeling cold, then he couldn’t imagine what you were feeling. 

“Let me take them,” Ghost said, sitting in front of the pair. Soap nodded and let Ghost take you into his arms, but he kept his hand firmly planted on your wound. Ghost sat you right in his lap, pulling your chest against his own, letting your skin finally meet in hopes of warming you up. You winced, the stinging pain spreading through your body just as the warmth does. He wrapped a blanket around both of your figures, having to keep part of your lower back clear so Soap could get to work on your still bleeding wound. He kept one of his arms around your shoulders and the other near your hips. 

“Alright, lass, I’m gonna get this bullet out of you and get you all stitched up,” Soap said, pulling a fresh pair of gloves on. 

“Come on, Johnny,” Ghost said as he rubbed one of his hands over your freezing skin. The Scot knew that the taller man was worried about you. His voice didn’t shake, but there was a sense of urgency that followed his words. The same urgency that Ghost had revealed back in Las Almas when he had been shot. 

Soap got to work, disinfecting the area as much as he could before grabbing a pair of dull tweezers and hovering over the wound. 

“This is going to hurt,” he muttered, grimacing to himself before diving in. 

Even in your nearly unconscious state, you sucked in a sharp breath and pressed yourself against Ghost’s chest, trying to escape the freezing edge of the tweezers that had just been inserted into your lower back. You let out a cry of pain, limbs finally starting to work again as your hands grasped onto Ghost’s shoulders. Your nails dug into his skin and he clenched his jaw, holding you a little tighter in an attempt to keep you still so Soap could do his work as quickly as he could. 

“Fuck!” you gasped, clenching your jaw as you shoved your face into the warm crook of Ghost’s neck. Your skin rubbed against a mixture of his own skin and the thick material of his balaclava. Tears pricked your eyes and you immediately closed them, not wanting them to fall but the pain in your back threatened to make all of that happen. “Fuckin’ hell—”

“We know, love, we know,” Soap cooed in hopes of soothing you. He furrowed his brows as he continued to fish for the damn bullet. When he finally grasped onto it, he slowly pulled it out, relieved to finally see the glint of metal getting pulled from your wound. 

The release of pressure in your back made you sag and slump into Ghost’s hold, no longer fighting against his strong grip on your body in an attempt to keep you still. Everything about him was warm, comforting, and inviting. You could feel yourself slipping away into his kind embrace. Ghost must have noticed because he jostled you around a bit, forcing you to keep your eyes open. 

“We need you awake, Frost,” he said, holding you a little closer as Soap started to stitch you up. The moment the cold metal needle laced itself into the top layer of your skin, you jolted. 

“Sorry,” Soap muttered, trying to work as quickly as he could without hurting you. He soon finished and tied the stitches off, patching it all up with fresh gauze and a bandage to keep everything covered. “Alright, done.”

Soap grabbed another blanket and wrapped it around you and Ghost before running his hands over your back, soothing you as you started to regain control of your uneven breathing. 

“Get your gear off and meet us in the bedroom. They need all the heat they can get,” Ghost said, nodding his head towards the bedroom that you three had been sharing. Soap nodded as he started to work on all the gear strapped to his body. He hadn’t realized that he hadn’t taken anything off as he was trying to get you all patched up. Everything suddenly felt much heavier and a whole lot colder, giving him a little more incentive to get everything off in a timely manner. 

Ghost set you down in the middle of the bed, resting blankets over your still form before sliding under the covers behind you. Soap soon appeared in the doorway, looking over the sight set before him. 

The sight of the two people he loved most lying in bed together, legs entangled beneath the many layers of the blankets resting atop them. His heart yearned to lie beside them, to let himself entangle in the precious bond in front of him, but he couldn’t help but just watch them lie peacefully for a few silent moments. 

“Get in here, Johnny,” Ghost beckoned as he pulled his balaclava off and threw it onto the nightstand behind him. Johnny’s eyes widened as Simon brought a single finger up to his lips, telling him to keep quiet before nodding his head down at you. Simon settled back down behind you as Johnny slid into bed right in front of you. 

You still looked a little hazed, but the way your hands were reaching out to him, practically pulling him in closer until he was flushed chest to chest with you… It drove him crazy. Your cold fingertips urged him even closer and he complied, happily following your touch. He rested his arms around you, his hand meeting Simon’s arm that was wrapped around your waist. The two men kept you pressed up between them as they watched some color return to your skin.

“Hey,” Johnny whispered, nudging you gently. He knew that you shouldn’t fall asleep just yet. They needed you to get a little more color and a little more warmth in you before you slipped off from the conscious world. “Tell us how you got your callsign, Frost.”

You took in their warm embrace for a few moments longer before answering. 

“When I was younger—when I first joined the military—I was always a little too serious out on the field. It was almost kind of ridiculous how serious I tried to be as a private,” you started, your words no longer slurred, but the exhaustion in your voice was still evident. “My old team used to say that I would turn into a stone-cold killer when I was out on the field. So they started calling me Frosty, but it changed to Frost as I got older.”

Johnny chuckled a bit, thinking about how you’d probably lose your head if the team started to call you Frosty nowadays. And while he thought about that, you couldn’t help but think about the low rumble of a deep laugh you had felt reverberate from his chest and into yours. 

You loved his laugh. 

You loved him. 

You wanted to stay here forever. 

Just like this. 

Tucked away in every crevice of Johnny and Simon’s hold. 

Warm. 

Safe. 

You’d do anything to stay here, but you knew that it would have to come to an end eventually.

But for now, you were content with living in the moment for once. 

Simon placed a gentle kiss on the crook of your neck while Johnny placed a delicate kiss on your forehead. A quiet sigh slipped past your lips as you melted into them, but a gasp filled your lungs again the moment you realized that you had felt Simon’s lips graze over your skin and the stubble that covered the bottom half of his face scratched against your skin.  

He wasn’t wearing his mask. 

He wasn’t wearing his fucking mask. 

Johnny soothingly shushed you with a small smile on his face as he ran the back of his fingers against your soft cheek. 

Johnny was okay with this. 

Simon was okay with this. 

“Relax, love,” Simon whispered into your skin, letting his breath warm your neck. He ran a hand over the bandage on your lower back and a light shiver ran through your body as his fingertips grazed the edges of your fresh wound. He muttered a quiet apology, going back to resting his large hand on your hip.

“Don’t go tearing my stitches, Si,” you muttered, laughing lightly. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Simon and Johnny felt a heavy weight finally lifted off their shoulders. You were joking around again, which meant that you’d (most likely) be okay. They both let out content sighs, glancing at each other as they noticed that the other had done the same thing. The two men smiled softly at each other, eyes meeting in a warm stare. 

Johnny looked over Simon’s face, wishing he could reach up and trace the jagged scar that ran through his lover’s smile. Simon wanted to melt into Johnny’s mouth, yearning to press his lips against the Scot’s, just to make sure he was really there—that everything happening was real.

“Acting like a bunch of lovesick teenagers,” you muttered, a giddy smile falling over your face as you closed your eyes.  

“You say that as if you don’t act the same way, lass,” Johnny muttered back, keeping a smile on his face. You snuggled your face into his chest to hide your growing smile. He and Simon chuckled, shaking their heads at you.

It was a rare occurrence to hear Simon laugh.

You only got to hear him laugh in quiet moments like this. 

Moments that only you and Johnny knew existed. 

“Get some rest, love,” Simon whispered before pressing another kiss to your neck. 

And just like that, the soft touches of their fingertips grazing over your skin lulled you closer and closer to sleep until you finally relaxed completely into the darkness of their embrace.