#Granny Custom Creations

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Good Moms Say Bad Words T-Shirt

Shop this custom, personalized, comfortable, causal, "Good Mom’s Say Bad Words” T-Shirt. Perfect shirt to wear everyday! This t-shirt will become one of Mom’s favorites quickly!

Just your everyday comfy t-shirt. Get comfortable with our 100% cotton crew neck t-shirts. Made of 100% soft cotton for a smooth, breathable fit. Pre-shrunk cotton tees are perfect for layering or wearing alone. Lightweight fabric keeps you cool and dry so you can look great and feel great all day.

The perfect tee shirt for a modern casual look. Not too long so you can wear these untucked with a pair of jeans or chinos. Looks great under a casual blazer and jeans for a relaxed Friday style. Stylish and versatile everyday crew neck tees are a wardrobe staple.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl.

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations

#grannygrandpascustomcreations

#trythatinasmalltown

Shop this custom, personalized, comfortable, causal, "Good Mom’s Say Bad Words” T-Shirt. Perfect shirt to wear everyday! This t-shirt will become one of Mom’s favorites quickly!

Just your everyday comfy t-shirt. Get comfortable with our 100% cotton crew neck t-shirts. Made of 100% soft cotton for a smooth, breathable fit. Pre-shrunk cotton tees are perfect for layering or wearing alone. Lightweight fabric keeps you cool and dry so you can look great and feel great all day.

The perfect tee shirt for a modern casual look. Not too long so you can wear these untucked with a pair of jeans or chinos. Looks great under a casual blazer and jeans for a relaxed Friday style. Stylish and versatile everyday crew neck tees are a wardrobe staple.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl.

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations

#grannygrandpascustomcreations

#trythatinasmalltown

[sim-berry]

Not So Berry CC & Mods Masterlist!

I'm almost to generation 5 of my Not So Berry challenge, so I thought I'd make a list of my favorite cc and mods that I use!

CC Creators

This is the most important part, as making your sims colorful is part of the fun of the challenge! There are some generations with colors (ex: peach, plum, mint green) that can be difficult since EA swatches don't really have these colors. Some creators have more swatches that add a bigger variety of colors. Look for specific palettes that have the colorful berry swatches, like Sorbets! Here are some great creators that provide these colors:

IMPORTANT: For recolors, remember that you'll often need the mesh of the original or else you'll get the dreaded broken cc with the question marks!

@simandy (amazing adult hairs that also often come in Puppycrow or Sorbets swatches)

@kissalopa (recolors many hairs with more swatches for all ages)

@dcwnandout (recolors many hairs in the Sorbets swatches)

@sweetberryturtle (recolors many hairs in Sorbets and Candy Shoppe swatches)

@i-heart-pudding (recolors of hairs and clothes)

@simysteric (recolors in the Sorbets swatches)

@noodlessorbets (the creator of the Sorbets palette, also reblogs cc using the swatches!)

Mods

Many of these I use for general reasons and not just for the NSB challenge, but I think they can really enhance your gameplay when following some of the challenge rules!

MC Command Center by deaderpool- I think this mod is a necessity overall but for the Not So Berry challenge one of the most important modules is MC Pregnancy. Some generations have a specific number of children to have, and this mod lets you be more in control of your sims' pregnancy. In the "offspring" tab for your pregnant sim, you can change the number of babies your sim is having (change twins to one baby, etc).

Grannie's Cookbook by @littlbowbub- some of the generations require your sim to master the cooking skill. If you're like me and play this game all the time, you might be getting bored of making the same old recipes. This mod provides a ton of adorable and creative recipes for your sims to enjoy. My personal favorites are the desserts- I haven't made a base game cake in a long time!

Relationship and Pregnancy Overhaul by lumpinou- one of the best mods out there for how much depth it adds to pregnancy, woohoo, and relationships. While playing gen 2 of the NSB challenge, my sim was supposed to have 1 child and "no maternal instincts" (quoted from the challenge rules), so it didn't really make sense for her to be overly happy about her pregnancy. This mod allows you to choose whether or not your sims want children (the game will also pick randomly), and they will react accordingly with moodlets and sentiments. It makes everything feel much more realistic.

Let's Get Fit Workout Equipment by cepzid creation- more options for workout equipment with custom animations. Great for generation 4 aka your athlete sim.

Talents and Weaknesses by lumpinou- allows you to choose your sim's talents and weaknesses in certain skills, which affects the rate of their skill gain. Maybe it's cheating a little, but since many generations require your sims to max certain skills, this can really help.😉Not to mention if you have a sim who is supposed to hate cooking, it doesn't make sense for them to be level 10! You can even block your sim from increasing certain skills.

I'll add more at a later date but I hope this helps some of my fellow NSB players!

[tresseyour]

10 Beautiful and Creative Crochet Patterns

Crocheting is a fun and relaxing hobby that allows you to create beautiful and useful items using just a crochet hook and some yarn. There are countless crochet patterns available, ranging from simple and beginner-friendly to more advanced and intricate designs. In this blog post, we'll showcase 10 creative crochet patterns that are sure to inspire and delight you.

Granny Square Blanket:

The granny square blanket is a classic crochet pattern that's perfect for beginners. It's made up of small, square motifs that are crocheted and then joined together to form a blanket. You can use any color combination you like to create a unique and colorful blanket.

Textured Scarf:

This crochet pattern features a beautiful, textured design that's perfect for keeping warm on cold days. The scarf is made using basic crochet stitches, but the texture is created using a combination of different yarns and techniques.

Amigurumi Toy:

Amigurumi is the art of crocheting small, stuffed animals and toys. These cute and cuddly creations make great gifts for kids and adults alike. There are countless amigurumi patterns available, ranging from simple animals to more complex characters.

Crochet Basket:

A crochet basket is a functional and stylish way to store and organize your things. This pattern uses chunky yarn and a large crochet hook to create a sturdy and durable basket. You can customize the size and shape of your basket to fit your needs.

Crochet Shawl:

A crochet shawl is a versatile and stylish accessory that can be worn in a variety of ways. This pattern features a lacy, openwork design that's perfect for spring and summer. You can use any yarn weight and color to create a shawl that's unique to you.

Crochet Blanket Stitch:

The crochet blanket stitch is a simple and beginner-friendly pattern that creates a cozy and textured blanket. This pattern uses basic crochet stitches, but the texture is created by working the stitches in a specific way.

Crochet Headband:

A crochet headband is a quick and easy project that's perfect for keeping your ears warm on cold days. This pattern uses basic crochet stitches and a stretchy, ribbed design to create a headband that's both functional and stylish.

Crochet Cowl:

A crochet cowl is a cozy and stylish accessory that's perfect for keeping warm on cold days. This pattern uses a combination of basic crochet stitches and textured techniques to create a cowl that's both warm and stylish.

Crochet Slippers:

Crochet slippers are a comfortable and cozy way to keep your feet warm at home. This pattern uses basic crochet stitches and a cozy, ribbed design to create slippers that are both functional and stylish.

Crochet Beanie:

A crochet beanie is a quick and easy project that's perfect for keeping your head warm on cold days. This pattern uses basic crochet stitches and a simple, ribbed design to create a beanie that's both functional and stylish.

We hope these 10 creative crochet patterns have inspired you to pick up your crochet hook and start a new project. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced crocheter, there's a pattern here for you. Happy crocheting!

[madisonreedcrochets]

My Projects!

This Post is going to be about a couple of my past projects that I have completed. The first image is of a blanket that I crocheted for my great-aunt Carrie. I made her a crocheted chunky throw blanket that was a dark grey and blue color. The second image is a blanket that I crocheted for my aunt Shannen. Her blanket is a couch throw that she keeps on the back of a chair in her living room. It is a mixture of white and blue in a granny square pattern. The third image is a blanket that I made for my granny, who I talked about in my last blog post. I made this blanket for her to be able to throw on top of her when she was cold while lying in bed. It is also a chunky blanket that is dark grey and white mixed together. 

Making things for my family is something that I enjoy very much. I have a passion for crocheting, and gift-giving my creations to those that I love is something that I love very much. I am grateful that they all adore receiving my gifts as much as I am eager to give them! The very last picture attached is a custom tag that I put on all of my creations that adds a little extra tenderness and personalization to the things that I make. My granny gifted me these tags when I began to crochet and told me they were sure to bring extra devotion to my projects, so from then on, they have been a big part of my crochets!

[eandecnr]

Unlocking Potential: Exploring ADUs in San Jose and Santa Clara

Considering adding a sprinkle of freedom to your everyday environment? Or on the other hand perhaps you're searching for a cunning method for creating additional pay? Then, at that point, Embellishment ADU San Jose may be the ideal answer for you!

ADUs Made Sense of ADUs, otherwise called granny pads, are independent private units worked inside the current property lines of a solitary family home. They come in different setups, from switched carports over completely to disconnected units in the patio. ADUs offer a large number of benefits, pursuing them a famous decision for property holders in San Jose and Santa Clara.

InvestigatingADUs in San Jose and Santa Clara San Jose and Santa Clara have embraced ADUs as a method for handling housing difficulties and make more dynamic areas. The two urban areas offer smoothed out allowing processes and monetary projects to boost ADU construction.

• San Jose The City of San Jose has a committed ADU site page illustrating the allowing system, design rules, and pre-supported plans to facilitate construction. They additionally give monetary help projects to assist with offsetting the expenses related with ADU development. • Santa Clara Santa Clara County offers comparable assets, including enlightening studios and credit programs explicitly designed for ADU creation. The Santa Clara County Association of REALTORS (SCCAOR) even has a committed ADU Corner on their site, giving an abundance of data to property holders thinking about ADUs.

If you're a homeowner in San Jose or Santa Clara contemplating an ADU, here are some initial steps: • Research Local Regulations: Familiarize yourself with the specific permitting requirements and zoning codes in your city. • Explore Design Options: Browse pre-approved ADU plans or consult with designers and architects to create a customized unit that blends seamlessly with your property. • Seek Financial Guidance: Explore loan programs and financial assistance options offered by your city or county. • Connect with Local Experts: Reach out to experienced ADU builders and contractors in your area to get a better understanding of construction costs and timelines.

With careful planning and the abundance of resources available, adding an ADU to your property in San Jose or Santa Clara can be a rewarding investment that unlocks a world of possibilities.

Beyond the Basics: Considerations for ADU Success Once you've decided to move forward with an ADU project, here are some additional considerations to ensure a smooth and successful process: • Neighbourhood Impact:  Be mindful of how your ADU will affect your neighbours. Consider noise levels, parking availability and overall aesthetics when designing and constructing your unit. • Long-Term Plans: Think about how you'll use your ADU in the future. Will it serve as a rental property, a guest house, or a home office?  Planning for different uses can help you design a more versatile space. • Universal Design:  Consider incorporating universal design features into your ADU to make it accessible to people with disabilities. This could include wider doorways; grab bars in the bathroom, and lower countertops in the kitchen.

By carefully considering these factors, you can ensure that your ADU Santa Clara a success that adds value to your property, your neighbourhood, and the community.

[tradeheros]

Phoenix Patios and Outdoor Centre, a cherished family-owned and operated business nestled in the heart of Perth, Australia, has been transforming outdoor living spaces since its inception in 1980. Renowned for their commitment to quality, reliability, and friendly service, Phoenix Patios stands out in the industry for delivering factory-direct pricing without compromising on the craftsmanship or value added to your home. Specializing in the creation of premium outdoor patios, they offer customers a unique blend of personalized service and professional expertise. At Phoenix Patios, every project is treated with the utmost attention to detail, ensuring that your outdoor patio not only meets but exceeds expectations. From the initial consultation, where they meticulously measure and quote, to the drafting of plans, clients are guided every step of the way.

[echantedtoon]

Allison Chapter Thirteen

(Disclaimer and Warning: The song the flowers sing is Alice's Theme by Danny Elfman and is no way mine. And Allison's Aunt is mean in this flashback.)

Another day another earning. Another day another start at school. ANother day another jab at stressful finals....Another day another disaster. Growing up she never really had much. Average grades, a few people she could consider friends, but it was never really-....Content for her. She was always one who was attracted to the colorful side of life. Always making up creative ideas in her head, colors swirled and danced in the stories and creations she'd make. Her art and literature teachers always commended her on her own take on the world of arts and story writing, but the world she was forced into, others' reality, didn't appreciate such things.

"Arts and crafts?," her aunt bluntly asked and cousins all sneered at her as their mother shook her head, "That's what you get for Grandmother raising you all alone like the old hermit she is. Listen, Allison. I agreed to raise you in the real world so maybe you could make something of yourself. No one's going to buy your art skills and writing if you could even call them that. You need to pick a realistic game plan! Why can't you be more like your older cousins? Rodger is studying to be a professional doctor and Lorlei's on her way to become one of the world's greatest woman athletes. You need yo get your head out of the clouds and face reality."

And as time went on and as she grew, she wished she listened to her Aunt's words. Sure she was good at art and stories to a decent level, but no one was really interested in her skills as her aunt had predicted. After highschool things just went downhill-...She got into the local community college that offered a slightly better art course than her highschool, but she didn't really get tha scholarship like she always wanted...Her aunt warned if she didn't get her act together and get better grades she wouldn't, and believe me she tried. She tried her absolute best to make it. But still no scholarship for her hard work and her aunt wasn't willing to pay for any 'unrealistic goals' she wanted.

"You had literal years to get there and I told you that! Instead you chased a dream grandmother told you about. I'm not paying for something that won't even be useful in the long run. That's what getting a job is for."

And she did. And wouldn't you know it, if she was old enough to start college and get a job then that means she also must've been old enough to get her own living space too. At least that's what her aunt thought. And so there she was, renting a crappy run down apartment where everything kept breaking, barely able to keep up with bills and trying to go to school and keep her grades up-....Eventually she had to give up. She couldn't keep up with the mental strain of keeping a living and keeping up with the crazy expensive school. Now here she was. Working a low wage job as a waitress and now being threatened to be evicted if she didn't pay all the due rent within a month's time and working all the extra shifts she can get to try and keep her home and using all the willpower she had left to basically survive at this point. Everyday and nights if she had to smiling at customers and forcing that cheery attitude to please the crowd, as she was slowly lost any hope for creativity in her life. Then that fateful day came. She was just working the day shift as usual, with her forced smile and cheery attitude but it only got worse when she got home. She received news that would shatter her world forever. Her grandmother's lawyer had called her. From the local law office in towm. She remembered vaguely that Granny had been moved to the local nursing home in town at the insistence of her remaining family but honestly hadn't seen her in a while. And the news when she picked up that phone and held it to her ear, was the worst news she would ever hear.

"Is this Allison Gale? ," a gruffy man's voice asked to her confusion.

"Uh...Y-Yes. Who's this?"

"This is the Law Office of Duffman and Hillary." She froze. LAW. OFFICE!? OH NO!! Was she being sued for something?! Was she getting evicted NOW?! "I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but last night your grandmother had passed away. I'm very sorry for your loss but there's going to be a reading of the last will and testimony of your grandmother by insistence of your other family. I would appreciate it if you would be willing to come to the reading of the will within a month's time."

HER. WORLD. ENDED.

She lost count how many tears she shead and how much time she laid emotionally numb in her bed not even summoning the will to go to work a few days since then....Which ultimately. Got her fired...The funeral wasn't anything special. Just your standard small funeral where everyone got to say goodbye and watch as the head of the family was laid to rest. But she didn't shed a tear. Too emotionally drained and numb to feel anything until much later after the funeral and being obligated to attend the reading of the will with the rest of what's left of her small family. Not like she expected much. Probably a goodbye message from her recently deceased grandmother at most, maybe a small inheiritance to pay for funeral expences or an insurance policy...Or more bills to pay. But no. The outcome had shocked her more than she could ever realize. She had-...Her granny had done-......

Her grandmother had left Allison her entire house and property!?!? WHAT?!

Well, other than a few family heirlooms that went to her other family members and a small savings account to pay for any leftover expenses that her granny left behind, but that's beside the point. Her aunt and cousins seemed to be a little disappointed that they didn't get much else, but they wouldn't want a house literally in the middle of no where in a supposedly cursed forest probably no one would buy from them anyways. She'd have to wait a few days to let the family lawyer collect her other family's new possessions but...She was given the deed of ownership to the house she grew up in...Which meant she'd have somewhere to live when she got evicted. She could almost cry. And she did eventually. What would her granny think if she could see her now? Couldn't go to college, lost her job, and was now going to be evicted from her home within a month now without even a car. She was forced to sell most of her stuff anyways. Had to get money for food somehow, and packed anything she could which wasn't much to be honest. She never had much to start with anyways. But she had one hope. ONE. SINGLE. HOPE. When she woke up for the last time in that apartment. When the taxi showed up. When she dragged those heavy bags down to the car and loaded them in. When she got into the car and closed the door without so much as a good bye to anyone or anything from her old home. When the taxi started and took off down the road. When she started towards her old childhood home. She really just had one hope after all.

A good new start for her.

***************************************************************************************************************

Darkness was what met her at first. Then a strange motion. It felt almost as if she was laying on the bottem of a car moving slowly over a gravel road. The coldness of the wood hitting her skin and the bumps and motions of the car adding to the already strange feelings her tired body was experiencing. She...must've fallen asleep. Ok. What was Chesire up to now? Was he messing with her bed or something? The human groaned and weakly raised a hand out and placed it onto the ground near her head, pushing her upper self from off the cold moving floor and raised her head tiredly. Strawberry blonde hair was in her was of seeing, but her red eyes blinked tiredly at the iron bars caging her in and the burly looking men marching beside her within the cage. She didn't react as one would expect. She tiredly pushed the hair out of her face and blinked confused and sleepy at the knights leading a horse down a dirt path. Their armor gleaming in the sun giving them a regal look. One nudged their leader and pointed to the sleepy human in the cage as they marched along like she was a wild animal being transported to the zoo. The path she was on looked worn but unlike all the other paths, this one looked well maintained despite it's use. And she wasn't in the woods any longer. Around her was nothing but flat wide open fields that looked well cared for with the cut grass and trimmed trees. And roses. HUNDREDS OF ROSES AND ROSE BUSHES EVERYWHERE!! She saw hundreds of red rose bushes in the fields especially alongside the road, but not all of them were red. There was some white, black, and lots of pink too. But mostly red. People of different kinds were trimming or watering the small flowers and bushes. They all stopped to stare at her as she went by, not that her out of it state of mind could notice now. She could only see the flowers and smell their sweet scent and faces.....FACES?!

Yep! A lot of the flower bushes' roses had faces on them and were giggling and smiling at the confused sleepy human as Allison was moved along on the pathway. Wait...were they saying something?

"Oh, Alli, Dear where have you been?~", they all ask sang as if in one giant chorus, "So near, so far, so in-between.~ What have you heard?~ What have you seen?~ Alli!~ Alli!~ Please, Alli!~"....Alli? Were they trying to say Allison but it came out Alli? Silly little flowers. When she woke up from this dream she'd have to tell Chesire about this. He'd find it so amusing. "Oh, tell us are you big or small?~ To try this one or try them all.~ It's such a long, long way to fall.~ Alli!~ Alli!~ Oh, Alli!~"

In her tired state, she smiled amused at these tiny funny flowers as the captain of these guards gave her a quick look before quickening the pace of the horse puling the cage on wheels holding the human inside it. They had cut their way through the magic tent with their swords and risked a lot getting her for the queen, so they weren't taking any chances with a human from the outside world now. The flowers however picked up their pace while continuing to sing as they hurried past.

"How can you know this way not that?~ You choose the door, you choose the path.~ Perhaps you should be coming back.~ Another day, another day.~ And nothing is quite what is seems.~ You're dreaming.~ Are you dreaming?~ OH, ALLI!~ OOOOOOOHH, ALLI!!~ OOOOOOHHHH!~" ...She blinked. 'Are you dreaming?'...Well that was a strange verse. Of course she was dreaming right now wasn't she? She had made it to Chesire's tent just like the Fortune Teller said. And he suggested they all take a rest and she just woke up in her dream....Didn't she? They continued. "Oh, how will you find your way?~ OH! How will you find your way?~ No time for tears today, no time for tears today.~ No time for tears today, no time for tears today.~"

A big bump on the road made her stumble in her jumbled state and she turned over her shoulder to yell at her dream people holding her hostage and stopped. Blinking her tired slightly blurry vison forward....OMG! THERE. WAS. A. GIANT. CASTLE!! The thing looked kinda tiny far away on top of the giant hill, but from where she was looking she could tell it was MUCH bigger than Chesire's tent, which was saying a lot since it was big enough to house five circuses in her opinion. In front of the castle looked like a giant green wall?? Tall rose bushes maybe? She was too far away to really see any good detail besides it was a good decent size and still seemed to be a good decent ways away from herself. Who's castle was that?

"So many doors, how did you choose?~ So much to gain, so much to lose.~ So many things got in your way.~ No time today, no time today.~ Be careful not to lose your head.~" She snapped back to them blinking feeling really whoozy and tired again. "Remember what Chesire said, Alli!~ Did someone pull you by the hand?~ How many miles to Wonderland?~ Please tell us so we'll understand.~ ALLI!!~ ALLI!!~ OH, ALLI!~" Her body lowered down as sleep refilled her tired mind. Perhaps if she closed her eyes again she'd wake up sooner back in Chesire's tent. "Oh, how will you find your way?~ Oh, how will you find your way?~"

Darkness consumed her once more as they continued on their cheery song.

[crawfordcompacthomes]

Revolutionizing Living SpacesThe Excellence of Quality Prefabricated Homes by Crawford Compact Hom

The concept of prefabricated homes has undergone a significant transformation in recent years, moving away from the stereotypical image of cookie-cutter structures to embrace innovation, sustainability, and high-quality craftsmanship. Among the pioneers in this field, Crawford Compact Homes has emerged as a leading provider of quality prefabricated homes, particularly excelling in the creation of Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs). Let's explore the allure of these homes and why Crawford Compact Homes stands out in the realm of prefabricated living spaces.

The Rise of Prefabricated Homes:-

Prefabricated homes have become a popular choice for individuals seeking a cost-effective, eco-friendly, and time-efficient alternative to traditional construction. The construction process involves assembling components in a controlled factory environment before transporting them to the site for final installation. This method not only reduces construction time but also minimizes waste and environmental impact.

Crawford Compact Homes and Accessory Dwelling Units:-

Crawford Compact Homes has been at the forefront of the prefabricated home movement, specializing in the creation of Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs). ADUs, also known as granny flats, backyard cottages, or in-law suites, are separate living spaces built on the same property as the main residence. These versatile structures serve a multitude of purposes, from providing additional living space for family members to serving as rental units or home offices.

The Excellence of Crawford Compact Homes:-

Quality Craftsmanship: Crawford Compact Homes takes pride in delivering prefabricated homes of the highest quality. Their commitment to craftsmanship is evident in the meticulous construction and attention to detail seen in every ADU they produce. The use of premium materials ensures the durability and longevity of their structures.

Customization Options: One size does not fit all, and Crawford Compact Homes understands the importance of customization. Their ADUs can be tailored to meet individual preferences and needs, from layout configurations to interior finishes. This flexibility allows homeowners to create a space that aligns seamlessly with their lifestyle.

Efficiency in Construction: Prefabricated homes by Crawford Compact Homes are built with efficiency in mind. The controlled environment of the factory allows for streamlined construction processes, reducing the overall construction time. This not only benefits homeowners in terms of quicker occupancy but also minimizes disruption to the surrounding neighborhood.

Sustainability Focus: In an era where environmental consciousness is paramount, Crawford Compact Homes incorporates sustainable practices into their construction processes. From energy-efficient designs to eco-friendly building materials, their ADUs are designed to have a minimal environmental footprint.

Compliance with Building Codes: Crawford Compact Homes adheres to all relevant building codes and regulations, ensuring that their prefabricated homes meet or exceed industry standards. This commitment to compliance provides homeowners with peace of mind, knowing that their ADU is a safe and legal addition to their property.

Conclusion:-

The era of prefabricated homes has dawned, and Crawford Compact Homes stands at the forefront, showcasing the epitome of quality, customization, and sustainability in the creation of Accessory Dwelling Units. Whether you seek an additional living space for family, a rental unit for supplemental income, or a home office, Crawford Compact Homes delivers excellence in every prefabricated structure. Embrace the future of living spaces with the innovation and expertise offered by Crawford Compact Homes, where quality meets convenience in the realm of prefabricated living.

[frontlawnfood]

Oh I swear, these wee fucklings.

I'm a bit young for Compuserve, but AOL, LiveJournal, fanfiction.net in its heyday, WWOMB... babycakes I know fandom spaces you've never even heard of, many of which no longer exist. Hell, I created my FB account when you still needed a .edu email to sign up because it was originally designed for college students.

I was there when fanfiction was not a thing you admitted to writing, online or off. Community was a listserv, invites passed by email, hoping you hadn't just given your whole creative world to a lawyer or a studio stooge or someone who would go tattling to Anne Rice. If you wrote something REALLY cool and you had the audacity to think it was good enough, you formatted it for screenplay and then mailed it off to the producing studio in hopes they might use it for real. Knowing that by doing so, you gave up the overwhelming majority of your intellectual property rights over that creation and IF they decided to use it, you might get a "based on a story by ____" credit, you might get a call requesting more work, you might get a job... or you might get nothing at all and you didn't have the money to prove in court that the studio stole your idea.

This world you live in, where the writers and actors of your favorite shows/books/manga are X-ers and Millennials and older Gen-Zs who lurk in social media groups and deepdive AO3 to see what you're saying about their work and writing with their characters and consider fanworks transformative and valid even if they don't like your individual piece? This world where actors of shows you loved when you were ten have Cameo accounts and will actually read your fanscript and if they like it enough, get together and put it out on youtube just for the fun of it? That's all new, darlin'. And unimaginable even twenty years ago.

Look at the fics from the early aughts... they're all prefaced with legalese boilerplate disclaimers declaring which characters and bits of plot are owned by which company/studio/author and which are their own creation. That's because back then, fair use laws had not expanded to encompass fanfiction, fanart, etc and people were still getting sued left right & center. Imagine that. Sued. Over shipping people the director didn't ship. Telling stories the studio didn't approve. Making characters gay when the creator said otherwise. (*cough*ANNE RICE CAN EAT MY METAPHORICAL LEFT NUT AND I HOPE HELL IS TOASTY *cough*) Just ... try to imagine a world where the characters and worlds that bring you joy and make your life feel a little less like a trap you'll never escape are closed to any interpretation but the original. Where you are not allowed to envision yourself in that world, or at least not legally permitted to write that vision down, draw it, sculpt it, for others to see and enjoy as you did.

That's where us "grannies" lived, kiddo. It was honestly a pretty weird time, and the world has changed SO much, so very quickly. I am so pleased that you never lived in that world, truly I am.

Yes, there are proper Old Folx on "your" tumblr and social media and fandom spaces. And we're not going away. Because it was ours first. We built it. We plastered our harmless fanworks in boilerplate in hopes of avoiding Cease & Desist letters from multinational companies and authors our parents' age. We fought when those letters came anyway because for fuck's sake, we're none of us making money here, we just want to play in the sandbox too. We got the fair use laws expanded to cover your "inspired by" art and sewing patterns and mugs and screen-accurate custom-fitted cosplay shops. We grew up and became the writers, producers, directors, actors in the shows you love today, who see a really cool idea in a fic and contact the author to find out if they mind it becoming canon... because any of us is ever gonna say no. Also if your work is really good you might be offered a job, you'd be surprised how often that's happened!

I love that you feel so free and comfortable and entitled to take up space in today's world of fandom, precious child. That was in fact our goal and I am thrilled beyond measure to see it so fully realized.

But we came first. We built these spaces where your imagination can run free, and we're hardly going to pack up and shuffle off to some digital old folx home just because your fragile butt is "embarrassed" to be seen in the same spaces as our wrinkles and gray hair.

You're not embarrassed being an old woman and being in tumblr? I would rather die that my grannies have an actual account on tumblr for celebrities rho

Why would I be embarrassed for having interests I enjoy? My guess is that you’re really, really young. And that maybe you don’t actually have solid relationships with adults who have lives outside of parenting or work. But I hope for you that when you’re my age you have hobbies that bring you happiness. And that by that point you realize that trying to shame someone for being an adult only makes you look too immature to be in adult spaces, which Tumblr is.

When I was 20, I loved music, making art, writing and reading good stories, fashion, talking about popular culture, making friends, going to concerts… You’d be surprised how little changes when you’re my age. I just have way more money and time to enjoy those things now. I’m only 55. I’m not dead. I’m also not a “granny”, but even if I was, I’d probably still like all of those things.

Ageism isn’t cute, love. And I sure don’t ever see people telling men they shouldn’t go to football games or have their little “fantasy football leagues” or wear their favorite player’s merch. For every comment you guys like to say is misogynistic (but isn’t), this is one that really reeks of it.

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Good Moms Say Bad Words T-Shirt

Shop this custom, personalized, comfortable, causal, "Good Mom’s Say Bad Words” T-Shirt. Perfect shirt to wear everyday! This t-shirt will become one of Mom’s favorites quickly!

Just your everyday comfy t-shirt. Get comfortable with our 100% cotton crew neck t-shirts. Made of 100% soft cotton for a smooth, breathable fit. Pre-shrunk cotton tees are perfect for layering or wearing alone. Lightweight fabric keeps you cool and dry so you can look great and feel great all day.

The perfect tee shirt for a modern casual look. Not too long so you can wear these untucked with a pair of jeans or chinos. Looks great under a casual blazer and jeans for a relaxed Friday style. Stylish and versatile everyday crew neck tees are a wardrobe staple.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl.

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations

#grannygrandpascustomcreations

#trythatinasmalltown

Shop this custom, personalized, comfortable, causal, "Good Mom’s Say Bad Words” T-Shirt. Perfect shirt to wear everyday! This t-shirt will become one of Mom’s favorites quickly!

Just your everyday comfy t-shirt. Get comfortable with our 100% cotton crew neck t-shirts. Made of 100% soft cotton for a smooth, breathable fit. Pre-shrunk cotton tees are perfect for layering or wearing alone. Lightweight fabric keeps you cool and dry so you can look great and feel great all day.

The perfect tee shirt for a modern casual look. Not too long so you can wear these untucked with a pair of jeans or chinos. Looks great under a casual blazer and jeans for a relaxed Friday style. Stylish and versatile everyday crew neck tees are a wardrobe staple.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Tumble dry low.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl.

After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations

#grannygrandpascustomcreations

#trythatinasmalltown

[nebbychan]

@smol-dargon, probably a good idea to start with the main character

Daniel Fortesque

(32 years old)

Some people like to use, “born with a silver spoon in their mouth” as a means to describe how well off people are. But for Daniel Wigginbottom Fortesque IV, it was more like a golden shovel. Dan’s family came into extravagant wealth when he was a child, though the glitz and glamour of coming from an influential, nouveau riche background didn’t do well for his anxiety. Growing up, Dan struggled to fit in with his peers, who judged him relentlessly on his economic status, and so he had few friends. Didn’t help that Dan was subjugated to bowl cuts and a comically bad retainer bought by his mother, so he didn’t really get to come out of his shell until around high school. By then, Dan had grown his hair out and stopped wearing his retainer — which turned out to be a TERRIBLE idea, even now, Dan refuses to go back to the dentist.

Dan joined the military as a means of escaping an otherwise suffocating home life, and he fit in really well - one of his past times included playing video games, or telling stories while deployed at different locations. After a decade of service, he was discharged following an unfortunate accident that left him half blind. These days, Dan lives in his hometown with his grandmother and a roommate. He also got himself a dog, hoping to have a really cool guard dog but honestly all he’s good for is hunting for pup cups and already cooked chicken.

In his past time, Dan is a streamer. He enjoys playing older games on the PlayStation as well as PC games. However, don’t expect him to play newer games like Bloodborne or Last of Us; the former because he gave up after dying 45 consecutive times at the first enemy following character creation, and then the latter because Dan suffered severe motion sickness and had to cut the stream short to throw up.

(Screenshot taken from a Haunted Mansion walkthrough)

Other facts:

- Dan is 10000% certain his girlfriend’s workplace is haunted and can’t fathom why she prefers the night shift

- Dan LOVES fantasy, he’s got his own custom suit of armor and he enjoys LARPing

- Granny Fortesque moved herself into Dan’s place because Dan can’t cook for shit, it’s practically a curse. The only thing he can make without something spontaneously combusting is coffee and tea, and a majority of his money is spent on food delivery

- He’s still in contact with his younger siblings, and they watch his streams

- Dan went to online university while still in the military; he has a Bachelor’s of Arts in English, plus a minor degree in Myth Studies, and another in Medieval Studies

- Since losing his eye, Dan has felt self conscious about it; he also wears a glass eye while out in public

- He HATES his middle name as it has gotten him bullied on several occasions, now that he’s an adult he can legally change it. Problem is, he can’t settle on a name

Modern!MediEvil AU character profiles, enough said

[ddaenggtan]

Half-Baked Holiday | ksj | M

Granny Park’s Gossip:

That Seokjin, don’t get me started on him. He’s worked hard to open and run that bakery of his, you know, and I’m so proud that it’s so successful now. Wish he would find a nice person to settle down with, though, he deserves it, as long as he’s been on his own. Well, I guess you can’t really call it alone when he’s got that grump of a best friend always hanging around him. He really should be paying her, what with all the time she spends at the bakery with him. She’s always waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but she’s not so bad when she brings me some of those cookies of his, or just around Seokjin in general, if I’m honest. Too distracted by staring at that pretty face of his, I suppose, though who can blame her?

pairing } seokjin x reader

word count } 12.6K { also on ao3

genre } friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, bakery au, fluff, smut, literally the slightest bit of angst

warnings } fluff, fluff, fluff; jin is an idiot and so is the MC, like they’re genuinely both dumbasses but in different ways; pining; misunderstandings; masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex, oral sex - male receiving, exhibitionism a little, rolling pins are used in ways they are not intended to be used; several mentions of jins squeaky laugh and also his red ears bc they’re my favorite things in the world

{ The Snowball Effect Series Masterlist } 

a/n } whaddup i finally finished this thing barely on time so yEET i yet again maintain my status as queen of last minute deadlines!!!! HBH is my Baby, I love it, it’s my perfect shiny garbage baby, and if you like it, you should DEF check out the others!! They can be read as standalones, but it’s really really really really really really highly recommended that you read them all in order, as they all end up in the same place and there are a ton of little easter eggs and references and shoutouts woven into the entire series!!! Extra special shoutout to the authors of all the other stories, @fortunexkookie (ryn), @taehyungforreal (ashley), @stutterfly​ (kristi, who also made the incredible banners!!!) 

You're a good person. You pride yourself on being kind and giving. Every year you make donations to several charities. You help organize summer fundraisers so kids can eat. You buy the most ethically-sourced groceries possible. You leave your change in case someone else can use it. You always tip at least 20% when you go out to eat. Out of everything, though, of all the good deeds you try to do in your life, there's one thing that makes you a truly outstanding human being. 

You don't lose your fucking mind every time the urge hits you. 

"But how many calories are in the Holiday Donut?" The lady in front of you asks. You can feel your eye twitching and even the young guy behind the register is starting to falter in his bright grin. 

"Um, I'm not-"

"Look lady," You cut in. "You have heard about nearly every thing on the fucking menu. It's a donut, stuffed with strawberry creme and coated in colored frosting and sprinkles. How many calories do you think are in it? Just order the banana nut muffin like you always do, get your coffee, and leave, so the rest of us aren't stuck in a line for another hour." 

The lady looks scandalized as she turns to glare at you, but all it takes is a single cocked eyebrow to send her huffing out the door. She mutters a few choice words under her breath as she goes, but you pay them no mind. 

"Your usual is almost ready, Pumpkin." You level Jin with an unamused glare as he pushes his way through the kitchen doors with a steaming tray of scones in hand. 

"You know I hate that name, Spice," You remind him dryly. 

"You know I hate it when you run my customers off with that dark cloud you call a personality, and yet here we both are," he responds. He just smiles at your eyeroll and you do your best to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. Instead you make yourself comfortable on one of the barstools at the counter. 

Seokjin's bakery is as busy as it ever is; several of the tables are taken, either by students on their nth espresso or families doing holiday shopping or people just looking for a place to relax amidst the bustle of the streets. There's someone perched on the stool at the opposite end, close to the register, but you pay them no mind. You're too focused on the mug Jin slides in front of you - green and chipped on the handle, it's your favorite - and the steam wafting up from the cocoa inside. There's a thick layer of marshmallow on the top and a candy cane sticking out, just like you like it, and a Holiday Bagel on a small plate next to it. 

"Thanks. You're still an ass, though." He has the decency to look offended at your words, and you grit your teeth against the smile that threatens to split your face. He always looks so cute when he's huffy. 

"One of these days I'm going to make you start paying for your food like everyone else, and then you'll start treating me right."

"Sure," You agree in a monotone as you pull your phone out and start tapping away on it. "That'll be the same day that you stop asking me to do your books for you because you can't be bothered."

The sigh that expels itself from his lungs is almost as dramatic as the play he dragged you to the week before. 

"I am perfectly capable of doing my books myself, thank you. I let you do it to keep you busy."

"Mhm, sure, I believe that," You tell him. He scoffs again and you barely register the hand he shoots forward to steal your bagel before you're slapping it away. "You don't even like strawberries and kiwi, Seokjin, and you will lose a hand."

You don't look up from the emails you're sorting through on your phone, but you don't have to in order to know that he's got both elbows braced on either side of you. You've known him long enough to know that this is his Pout Stance, and you dare not look up because there's no denying him when he looks like that. 

"You're so mean to me, Pumpkin. All I do is spoil you with good food and perfect company," he whines, "And what do I get for it? Insults and mockery. You could at least give me a kiss every now and then."

You choke on your cocoa. It burns your nose as it starts to come up that way, and the dark liquid dances across your phone screen as it molds to every crack and crevice. 

"Goddamn it, Seokjin," You sputter. He's already holding a cloth out to you, apology written on his face even as you glare at him. You pat your phone dry as best you can before resigning yourself to the fact that it's just going to smell like warm chocolate and peppermint until the next time your best friend flusters you. 

"To be fair, I didn't expect you to be so opposed to the idea," Seokjin mutters. He continues under his breath as you wave off his attempt to help again, something about him being handsome enough, but you aren't listening. Because that's the only real problem between the two of you. 

You aren't opposed to the idea. It's all you can think about most days; in work meetings, while you're doing paperwork, in team briefings, while you watch TV, when you're asleep. What his pillow lips would feel like against your own occupies nearly every waking thought you have. The others are torn between fantasies of what being his would be like and memories of him in general, neither of which you're lacking in.

You've known Seokjin for years. You don't even know how long since you insist you met when you were twelve and Jin is just as insistent that you met when you were nine. All you remember is being alone on the side of a playground playing hopscotch by yourself and then giggling at something the nice boy had said and then the two of you were inseparable. You aren't even sure how long you've felt like this towards him. It could've been high school, when he was one of the most sought after boys in school and yet still made time to comfort you every time a boy rejected you. Maybe it was college, though, when he was further away than he'd ever been and yet always answered your calls and responded to your texts and you'd cancel dates because he had randomly driven up to see you. Maybe it was after, watching him run his own bakery and do what he loves every day with the brightest grin you've ever seen on his face. 

You can't be sure. All you know is one day you were washing dishes in the back after being his guinea pig for some new creation, and he told some dumb joke, and when you turned around to mock his squeaky laugh like usual, you couldn't. Because he had flour on his cheek and chocolate on his lip and you'd never wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life. 

And then it just devolved from there and now the butterflies in your stomach have just set up camp. It's been too long, but you can't risk your friendship with him over some stupid crush. He means too much to you. 

Your eyes don't leave his back as he disappears back into the kitchen, still complaining about something under his breath, and you suppress a sigh. 

Shopping is the worst. You aren't really sure why you're here, because you hate shopping and you hate crowds and you especially hate holiday shopping because it's like Satan himself smashed the two together. You get all your gifts online or early in the year, you don't go anywhere near a mall from October to March, and it works for you. You don't have to deal with holiday crowds. Ever. So why are you on hour five at the largest mall in driving distance with no breakfast, sore feet, and full bags hanging from every possible place they can?

"Does that really seem like something Taehyung would like, though? I got that jacket for him already, I know, but this seems so much more fitting. What do you think, Pumpkin?"

Oh. Right. Seokjin had showed up at Too Damn Early For A Saturday O'Clock and demanded you accompany him for his holiday shopping. 

"I think that if I don't eat something in the next ten minutes, I'm ripping your head off and eating that instead. And for dessert I'll demolish those fancy chocolates you got for Jimin." A passing mother gives you a horrified glance as she ushers her toddler along and you almost wish you gave a shit. It's the mall, she can't control what other people say in this hellhole. You probably could’ve done without the emphasis on Jimin, though; Jin knows how much you worship those chocolates, you’ve said countless times that they’re better than orgasms, and still, he got some for Jimin and not you. 

You aren’t bitter. Or petty. No. You’re an adult, and you’re not going to pout just because your crush got your mutual friends some sweets instead of you.

"If you touch those chocolates, you're going to march your ass right back to that store and replace them while I return all your gifts," Seokjin quips back. You glance over at him and wrinkle your nose at the two berets he has in each hand. 

"What the fuck are you doing, Spice?"

“Wondering when you’re going to listen when I talk to you,” He responds. He holds both of the berets up for you to view more clearly. “Now, which of these is more ‘Tae’ to you?” He doesn’t react to the blank glare you give him, long since immune to your powers of pessimism, and instead just wiggles the berets in each hand so you actually look at them. 

Neither are to your personal taste; one is diamond-encrusted in some kind of quilted pattern, with some kind of alternating animal print as well. The other is more understated, if you can call it that, with a faux-fur trim, a feathered poof in the center, and a truly obscene pink houndstooth pattern to it. You can’t help the wrinkled nose that the two options cause in you, and you ignore Seokjin’s huff of irritation in favor of looking past him to the rest of the options. You only have to look for a minute to find something better suited, which mostly means Jin wanted to give Tae something truly gaudy on purpose. 

“Here,” You say, stuffing the hat into his hands. He stops mid-rant - something about how you should be helping him more, though you aren’t sure why because he’s the one that dragged you here and is lucky you haven’t bailed yet - and focuses on what you’ve just given him. It’s not a pretty beret, by any means, and is by far the cheapest one there, but it’s got some kind of artful splatter across it in greyscale tones, with a pop of red around the rim to accent it. Seokjin just stares at it for a second before turning his gaze on you, and you shift uncomfortably. 

“What?” You eventually ask. 

“Nothing,” He says airily. “Just surprised.” 

“At what?”

“You paying attention to people and being able to buy good gifts.” He puts the other two back into place and heads towards the registers, ignoring your indignant squawk. 

“I get you perfect gifts every year!” You don’t miss his eyeroll, and it makes you want to strangle him a little. 

“I don’t count,” He tells you as he settles in behind some grandmother buying entirely too many things that have to be for her grandkid. “You know me better than anyone, and you have access to my Amazon wishlist.”

“Yeah, except none of that is on your fucking wishlist,” You mutter. He turns, eyebrow arched and ready to get more backtalk, but you just make a face at him. 

He drags you to five more stores after that and abandons you in the middle of Williams Sonoma. You’re on your third lap of the store, ready to disassemble the fancy grill they’ve got on display to see if he’s somehow in there, when he appears, probably from the ether or some shit. You’re still trying to figure out how he managed to phase through time and space and the massive shelf of Martha Stewart Collection Cookware without you noticing, and in the meantime he takes the massive amount of bags from your hands and deposits something in your palms instead. 

It takes you a minute to register the warmth, but the smell hits instantly and makes your stomach grumble loudly. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucking hungry. 

“Eat,” Seokjin commands. “We’ve got more shopping to do for the bakery.”

You can’t even argue because your mouth is stuffed full of pizza pretzel bites - the only real reason to come to the mall, in your opinion. You’ve inhaled one serving in record time, and Jin doesn’t even react when you bust into the second one in the middle of some tech store. Instead, he just holds out a hand and waits for you to plop a pretzel bite in his palm. 

It’s hours later, long after you’ve helped Seokjin drop off all the bakery supplies at the shop and carted the presents up to his apartment, that you realize you’re still holding on to the bag from the pretzel place. You’re about to toss it into your garbage when it registers that there’s too much weight for just garbage; curious, you open the bag up and dump the content onto your kitchen counter. 

Inside is a small box of chocolates, the same kind you’d threatened to eat earlier in the day, your favorite flavor and everything, with a small note atop it. 

These were supposed to be part of your gift, but you looked put out when you thought I wasn’t getting you any. Thanks for today. xxSpice

You resist the urge to smile; it’s only right that he give you sweets after the frankly absurd amount of time he’d made you spend at the mall. Still, you can’t deny your lip twitches along with your heart at the knowledge that he’d been planning on including them in your gift. 

And you might tuck the note away behind a postcard on your fridge, but you’re never going to admit to that. 

The next day when you get to the bakery, Seokjin doesn't hesitate to shove you into his small office and push you into his desk chair before he disappears back into the kitchen. The usually cluttered space is empty, devoid of the usual invoices and order forms and whatever the fuck else your best friend keeps on his desk. Even the picture frames have been moved, placed haphazardly atop a filing cabinet. Something flutters in your chest when you notice the one directly facing his chair is one of the two of you.

Taken years and years ago, back when you were first moving into your college dorm, when you were both tired from carrying boxes up the seven flights of stairs to your room. You still remember how irritated you had been when Jin's parents insisted they get a picture of the two of you in your matching university hoodies. You don't remember what it was, but you remember Seokjin cracked some dumb joke or said something ridiculous. He must have, because in the picture, you're looking at him with a softness in your face that isn't present any other time.

Seokjin reappears with a steaming mug and a hand behind his back. The familiar scent of warm chocolate and peppermint hits you, followed closely by the warm-butter sharp-mint honey-glaze smell that you remember taste-testing for him so many times that you're almost positive it’s going to linger on your gravestone.

"That's mistledough." You narrow your eyes, and he rolls his own. His hand pulls out from behind his back to reveal the treat he'd concocted in college and perfected not long after. Shaped like a sprig of mistletoe and a warm honey brown color, the mistledough is easily the best selling product that Seokjin has.

And it's only on sale from Black Friday to the first day of January.

You don't even know what's in it. He's never told you, hasn't let you watch him make it; he'd just show up randomly and shove a weird-shaped treat under your nose and tell you to eat it. And of course you did, because you've been whipped for him since the first day he made you smile on that playground.

It's not important, really. What's important is that he's brought you cocoa and mistledough, which means he's bribing you for something important.

"No," You tell him.

"Please," He pouts. "You don't even know what it is yet." You huff and look anywhere else. His pout is dangerous for you and you know it, and you refuse to be bought for some cocoa and bread.

In an attempt to avoid the puppy dog eyes he no doubt is wearing, your eyes flit around the room. They eventually settle on the mass of shopping bags to your right. You turn, seeing the collection of various wrapping papers on the left and the collection of tape beside them.

"No," You repeat, turning your glare on him. "Wrap your own damn presents, Spice, I'm not doing it for you this year."

"But you do it so much better than I do!" He steps forward, setting his bribes in front of you so the scent wafts towards you that much more. "Your corners are always perfect, Pumpkin, and the edges are so well matched, and you get the pattern to line up perfectly, and-"

"No, Jin," You tell him, already standing. "I told you last year that it was the last time I'd be doing it for you, and that was only because you left it to the day before - again - and had to be in the bakery. I already wrapped all my presents, I'm not doing yours too."

He doesn't even say anything. He just widens his eyes a little and looks down at the scuffed tile floor, kicking his shoe dejectedly against the foot of the desk. There's utter silence in the room, only broken by the muffled chatter of customers and the beep of one of the ovens every few minutes.

You last for a solid ten minutes. You know because the smell of more mistledough fills the air, and you know Seokjin wouldn't try to bribe you with anything that wasn't the freshest batch.

"Why can't you do it?" You grumble, already sitting back down and picking through the wrapping paper.

"I've got like a hundred orders to fill today. That's not even really an exaggeration, either. Soobin's been on cake duty all day so that I can get to work on the mistledough orders and still have time to finish Tae's cake before we leave." You sigh and turn to look at him.

He looks stressed; that's not unusual for this time of year, but it still makes your chest clench. You want to pull him close, run your hands along the furrow between his brows until it's smooth again. Smother him with kisses until he's giggling and happy and remembers that he's a badass culinary god and that he can handle this and that you love him.

"I wish you would tell people no sometimes," You say instead. You slide one of the biodegradable rolls onto the desk and start looking through the drawers for the massive ruler you know is tucked away somewhere. "You can't fill every order. Let people pine for their fancy bread, they don't deserve it anyway."

"You know I can't do that, Pumpkin," He says, breaking off a piece of your bribe and leaning against the tattered desk. "We only just got to where we're steadily in the black, and the seasonal stuff brings in a lot of money. I've got to milk that for as much as I can."

"Yes, because you being overworked and stressed like this is a much better alternative. I'm pretty sure your eyebags have eyebags." You wait for the dramatic gasp, but it doesn't come.

Instead when you look up at him from where you're digging through presents, he's staring at the picture of the two of you. Whatever he's seeing is beyond that, though, invisible to anyone but himself. It's not rare that he gets introspective and quiet; it's actually fairly common when it's just the two of you. You don't know why. You don't want to know why. You just take the moments when they come and wait for him to say whatever he's going to say.

"You're my best friend," is what he eventually says. Your hand stutters where it's slicing paper, mimicking the pang of heartbreak that shoots through your veins. You love being his best friend.

You just wish you were more than that.

"Yeah," You say offhandedly, "No one else wanted the gig, so I guess I'm stuck here." You can feel his eyeroll, but he pats your shoulder as he heads back into the kitchen. When he reappears a while later with fresh cocoa and a bagel, you pretend to be mad that he steals a bite of it until he laughs at your grumbling.

When you leave his smile feels lighter, and you tell yourself you're imagining his eyes lingering on your back as you go.

You’re gonna kill him. You really are. You’re going to absolutely skin him alive, you don’t give a fuck how cute his face is or how hard he makes your heart beat. There’s not a single fucking thing he could say or do that would make up for this. 

Maybe if you hadn’t been out here waiting for nearly twenty minutes. Maybe if your phone showed that he had even opened the last six texts you had sent him. Maybe if it wasn’t Seokjin who insisted on leaving at like ten in the morning to being with, even though you had plenty of time to get there because you didn’t even need to run by the bakery because he’d already put Soobin and Yeonjun through what probably counted as actual military training in order to prepare them for today. Frankly, it’s a miracle Seokjin is even leaving them on their own today, considering how hectic it gets. You’re entirely sure that it’s only because Soobin has worked there since the bakery opened and Yeonjun joined not long after so they both know the ropes as well as they possibly can. And because Seokjin was likely up until an ungodly hour preparing and baking an enormous amount of mistledough for today.

In fact, he’s probably still passed out up there, you decide as you climb out of your truck and head into your best friend’s apartment building. You’re cursing under your breath the entire way, paying no mind to the scandalized elderly gentleman that shoots you a Look. You really are gonna kill him, you decide as you shove the key he made you into the lock and jiggle the handle slightly so it’ll actually turn. You’re going to drag him out of his stupidly comfortable bed and probably try to shove him down the garbage disposal or something. His shoulders may present a challenge, but you are up for it. 

Your mind is so made up that you don’t even register the bags he’s got ready by the door, or the coolers full of groceries that are packed and ready beside them. You just sidestep it all entirely and head down the hall. You don’t even register the faint sounds, muffled by the door to his room, and by the time it all finally reaches your brain, it’s too late. You’ve already thrown the door open as wide as it will go, which means you get a perfect, unobstructed view, even as Seokjin startles and yelps. 

Because of course - of course - he isn’t sleeping or showering or packing. No, instead he’s got his fist wrapped around his cock and is thrusting shallowly into the warmth of his palm. The universe loves to torment you entirely too much, clearly. Why else would it offer you such an unhindered look at the love of your life’s dick?

It’s a nice dick, too. Long and the perfect thickness, a pretty dusky pink head. You can’t lie and say you’ve never imagined what Seokjin’s dick looks like - you basically grew up with him and the others, and young boys talk about their dicks. A lot. Plus, you’ve had a crush on him for several years now. 

You just never could have imagined that it’s so absolutely gorgeous that you can feel your mouth water. It’s impossible to tear your eyes away from it, in fact, until Seokjin gets over his initial shock and shoves his blanket over his lap. 

“What, uh,” He starts, throat rough. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh...you asked me to pick you up, remember? Because your car doesn’t have four wheel drive like the truck.” You learned a long time ago how to avoid being embarrassed around Seokjin, but even that can’t stop the burn in your cheeks as you force yourself to make eye contact with your best friend. It’s a struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the planes of his naked chest, broad and tanned despite the winter weather, but you manage. 

Barely. 

“Right, yeah, but...uh, weren’t you supposed to call? And aren’t you early?” The tips of his ears are as red as your face feels. The contrast between the current situation and his obvious shyness is so endearingly distracting, it takes you a full minute to focus back in on what he’s saying. “--at this point, I mean, I know that we apparently aren’t there yet, but really, I don’t mind-”

“Wait,” You interrupt, “I’m still stuck on how I called you four times, both before I left and en route and once I got here, waited another ten minutes since I got here early because I know you like to be early, and yet somehow this is my fault.”

“Well...you should have knocked! Why wouldn’t you knock when coming into someone else’s apartment or bedroom?”

“Why didn’t you hear me coming? The floor in your hallway is a million years old, it squeaks constantly, how did you miss that?”

“Well, I was a little preoccupied.”

“Clearly.”

“You still should have knocked.”

“Why did you give me a key if you wanted me to knock? And when have you ever knocked on my door when you show up randomly? Besides, I figured you were asleep and didn’t want to wake you up while I took all your shit out to the truck.” His face softens a little, and a shy smile teases at his lips. 

“Thanks, Pumpkin,” he says quietly. Your stomach flips violently at the look on his face and you roll your eyes at it. 

“Yeah, whatever.” You pick up the clothes he already has laid out and throw them at his chest. “Get dressed, you’re buying me breakfast on the way to the cabin.”

He doesn’t protest as you leave him and gather his bags up, balancing them atop the coolers of groceries and snacks he’s no doubt made for everyone. It only takes a little finagling, but you manage to get it all downstairs and into the backseat of your truck. Fat white flakes are falling from the grey sky by the time you’re finished, and Seokjin’s nose and ears are still pink when he eventually gets in as well. You turn the heat up, just in case it’s not residual embarrassment heating his face. 

He doesn’t even say anything except a muffled thanks. After a few minutes, you’ve almost resigned yourself to an awkwardly silent car ride. 

“So…” Seokjin eventually says in a too-casual tone. “About earlier-”

“No,” You hiss before he can continue. “No we are absolutely not talking about what happened.”

“Oh, come on,” He implores as you turn into the first drive-through you can find. “It was bound to happen eventually, considering-”

“We really don’t need to talk about it,” you insist. 

“I’m just saying that I know you aren’t really one for...y’know, sexual activity,” He ignores your open-mouthed gape and continues, “But I have my own needs, and self-satisfaction is the best balance between the two that I’ve found. That said, I’m sorry you had to see it, I know it probably made you uncomfortable. Because. Y’know. Dicks.”

You’re still gawking as he finishes his spiel, and you feel a little like a fish. You surely must look like one, with your mouth hanging open in shock, your eyes as wide as saucers, and the general air of befuddlement that surrounds you. There are so many things you want to say, questions you have, all of them colliding in your brain.

“I like sexual activity just fine!” is what makes it out, just as the speaker beside your window crackles to life. There’s a long, pregnant pause in which you and Seokjin just stare at each other. 

“So...what can I get for you today?” The worker says through the speaker. You want to die, just a little, as you rattle off your order and Seokjin’s to him; the universe hates you, obviously, that’s the only real explanation here. 

“We are not talking about this,” You tell Seokjin firmly as you pull away from the speaker. Your face is still burning, but you refuse to acknowledge it. “You are paying and then we are heading to the cabin and we are not ever speaking of this again.”

He holds his hands up in defeat. You almost believe that he’s dropped the subject, but unfortunately you know him too well for that. Which is why you shoot him a warning look as you pull up to the window and he starts to say something. 

“All I was going to say is that my parents asked about you the other day. They’re mad that you haven’t been by lately.”

“I’ve been busy,” You say as you hand Seokjin’s card to the kid in the window. “I haven’t had time to visit.”

“You visit Jimin’s grandma like twice a week.”

“Yeah, well, Granny Park and I are friends. Not to mention I still have to unseat her as the reigning go champion.” You don’t mention that you’re sneaking her mistledough and cookies so that she won’t blab about the fact that you’re in love with Seokjin. Or that every time you go to his parents’ house, they end up talking about weddings and asking when you’re getting married. You can’t deal with that, not when you factor in your feelings for their son. 

“I’m just saying. You’re like a daughter to them. They miss you. I’m going by there after we get back from the cabin, and I think they’d like it if you tagged along.”

All you give him is a noncommittal grunt and several bags of fast food. You love his parents, you really do. You just wish they didn’t come with the constant reminder that Jin only sees you as a sister.

He lets you eat in silence, though, content to munch on your fries and pretend most of the morning never happened. He sings along to every song that plays on the radio, and it isn’t until you’re about thirty minutes away from the city and doing your best to navigate the roads in the worsening snow that you get suspicious. 

“When you say you like sexual activity just fine-"

“I thought we dropped this!” He sends you a look that just says ‘really?’ and continues. 

“I just want to know what you mean. Because obviously we’re on two different pages.”

“I mean that I like it just fine. I enjoy it, it’s fun, I would like to continue having it in the future. What of that is strange to you?”

“No, I just...I was under the impression that you weren’t interested in that. You never really talk about it, and you’ve never mentioned any...partners, or anything so…”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to inform you of every person I’ve ever slept with.” You glance over at him, astounded, and are shocked to see that his lips are pursed in a frown and his brows are drawn together. You resist the urge to reach out and smooth the lines on his face. “Wait, are you actually upset about this?”

“It’s just...I’ve told you about every person I’ve slept with.” You wince a little because he’s right. You’ve heard about every single one of his sexual encounters, some of them in great detail, and you do your best not to think about them. “If I had known that you were interested, then-”

“What? You would’ve set me up with one of your friends?”

“Who was the last person?”

“What?”

“Who was the last person you had sex with?”

You look at him again, a quick glance to try to figure out if he’s being serious or not. His face is hard, an emotion you can’t place clear in the set of his jaw and the steel in his eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure there’s an actual blizzard starting around us, and you want to know who I fucked recently?”

“Yeah, I do. Fair’s fair, Pumpkin.” Something in his voice raises alarms in your head. You could insist that you don’t want to talk about it; he’d respect it if you were really serious, you know he would. There’s an edge to him right now, though, one you haven’t seen in a very long time, and you don’t like it. You want to smooth it out, sand it back into the gentle lilt you love.

“Fuck, Spice, I don’t know. That guy from the bar that one night?”

“What night? What bar?”

“I don’t fucking remember, okay? It was like...fuck, years ago, I don’t even remember what he looked like, let alone his name or what bar it was. Are you happy now? For fuck’s sake, I didn’t think I had to report to you every time I wanted to get laid. You’re my best friend, not my keeper. I didn’t think it was any of your business.”

He mumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch; between the sound of the heater going full blast and the Christmas carols he’s got blaring through your truck’s sound system, it’s hard to hear anything. Still, when you glance over at him again, something dark sits in his expression, and you’ve got a gut feeling it’s your fault. 

Things remain tense even after you arrive at the cabin. Seokjin doesn’t wait for you to help him, just loads all of his stuff into his arms and wobbles his way inside while you’re still slinging your overnight bag over your shoulder. The door slams behind you as you enter, caught by the wind of the growing storm outside, and you send what you hope is an apologetic wave to where Taehyung and Star - his girlfriend of forever and one of your closest friends - sit in the den. 

You immediately make your way to the kitchen, swiping a tin of cookies and making hot chocolate, all while ignoring the overly aggressive chopping your best friend is doing behind you. You’re sure Star and Tae aren’t surprised when you flee to the room that you’ve unofficially claimed over the years. 

You stay there for most of the day. The door stays open, just in case someone actually wants to come talk to you; you have no doubt that everyone can hear you cursing at the dog show you’re watching, and at one point you’re pretty sure you hear Namjoon’s voice steer someone away, but you can’t be sure. You don’t even want to be sure. All you really want is to know what the fuck you did to piss your best friend off and get him back to normal. 

You can’t just ask him, though, because he’ll no doubt get even angrier that you don’t already know, despite the fact that you have no way of knowing unless he actually tells you. 

Frustrated, you pick up your phone and flip uselessly through the chat you have with him, trying to find literally any explanation for how he’s acting. The group chat with all the boys plus Star and Cat has been quiet most of the day, only the offhanded comment about someone leaving now or going to be a little late. 

Your chat with just Cat and Star is almost as quiet. There’s a featured video of Seokjin blowing up at Jeongguk a bit too harshly considering the younger had just nabbed some kimchi before dinner, but that’s essentially it. You’re tempted to ask Star to get Seokjin to tell her what’s going on, but not only do you not want to drag her into whatever this is, you also know better. He wouldn’t tell her anything. She isn’t his best friend. 

As much as you’re looking forward to the rest of the night, there’s a sense of dread deep in your bones when you eventually emerge from your room. You only do so because you’re out of hot chocolate and you know that you’ll be dinner if you’re late to eat. 

You wave off Star’s curious look when she sees you; you don’t need her worrying about you, not when she’s got so much else to focus on, if the crutches leaned nearby are any indication. Hobi and Cat haven’t arrived yet, which only adds to the sinking feeling in your gut, but you brush it off. They would call if they had trouble. You know they would. Besides, Cat said they’d probably be leaving late. 

Seokjin doesn’t even look at you as you pass him to get to the dining table, and that hurts more than you’d like to admit. The real sucker punch comes once you sit down, however, when you see a mug of hot cocoa with your signature candy cane placed just to the right of your plate, only to realize that Seokjin’s mug of special coffee he loves so much is placed at the other end of the table. 

Away from you. 

Air catches in your lungs, and it sounds silly that you’re tearing up over your best friend not sitting beside you, but he always sits beside you. Always. No matter what the two of you have been fighting about, he’s always sat beside you because he likes to laugh at the faces you make about the conversations going on, and he feeds you the best bits of meat while you act annoyed about it but secretly love it. 

You knew Seokjin was upset, but you hadn’t realized he was this upset. 

Jimin sits beside you and introduces you to his neighbor, but you don’t even catch her name, just that he keeps calling her Snow and she looks at him like he’s the meal and that there’s a massive purple bruise along Jimin’s neck that you have a sneaking suspicion is her handiwork. She looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t be bothered to place her, not when Seokjin is laughing about something Star is saying and looks entirely too at home down there. 

On your other side, Namjoon and his roommate are talking about a science something or other that they’ve been working on. They’re both so invested in the conversation that neither notice Namjoon dumping the extra spicy sauce over his rice instead of the mild that he prefers. You can’t even bear to listen as he starts complaining to Seokjin that he made the food too spicy and the resulting tirade from the eldest. 

If anyone notices your sour mood, they don’t say anything. It’s not surprising, when you think about it; you’ve long been established as the grump of the group, and you don’t expect that to change, even with the girl Jeongguk brought along that seems torn between whether she actually likes him or not. 

Yoongi catches your eye at one point and you just cock a brow at him. 

“Where’s Jisoo?” You mouth at him across the table. He looks to Peaches, the girlfriend of his that you’ve only ever met once in passing, and looks back at you. You way your eyebrows at him halfheartedly and Yoongi rolls his eyes. It’s disappointing that Jisoo isn’t here. She always provides some sort of entertainment.

If nothing else, she usually provides some semblance of distraction. 

By the time dinner ends, you’re fairly positive no one knows about your spat with Seokjin, or the strange tension between the two of you. You’re sure no one noticed how you didn’t eat much of anything; everyone was too wrapped up in their own conversations and relationships to pay much attention to little old you. 

You really should know better by now.

Jimin doesn’t move from his spot beside you, even as the others begin gathering dishes and your best friend disappears into the kitchen with the promise of cookies and chocolate-covered treats in an hour or two. Snow disappears, no doubt after a silent conversation between her and Jimin, and you roll your eyes at how he watches her disappear into the room they’ve claimed. 

The two of you sit in silence; it’s a game of wits, almost. You know he knows something is up, but you also know that he knows you aren’t one to just offer up your thoughts. But he knows that you know that, and he knows you know he isn’t going to let it go because he can tell something is actually bothering you this time. 

“So are we going to talk about why Seokjin has been so pissy all day and how there’s been a notable lack of Pumpkin by his side, or are we going to continue to pretend that everything’s fine like we did through dinner?”

You wish you were better able to resist him. Maybe your time with his grandmother has weakened you to him, and maybe you should work on being less transparent with him, but either way, you slump in your chair and set your empty mug of hot chocolate down with a thump. You still send him a glare that he smiles through and make a mental note to tell Granny Park that there’s a reason for his sudden need for scarves that she should ask him about. 

“We had a fight.” You eventually grumble, eyes darting to where Seokjin stands over in the kitchen, dipping marshmallows, pretzels, and other treats into melted chocolate. “I think.”

“You think?”

It doesn’t take very long for you to recount the day’s events to him. You even tell him about The Incident from that morning that you walked in on, because once you start talking you can’t seem to stop until he knows it all. 

“And now he’s pissed, I think at me, but I can’t figure out why. I mean, it wasn’t any of his business, but you know how I am with him, so it’s not like I could just not tell him, but I don’t understand why it pissed him off.” You huff a little. The frustration with everything that rolls in your stomach collides with the hurt you feel over Seokjin snubbing you, and it’s so distracting that you almost miss Jimin’s careful whisper of your name. 

“Have you ever considered just asking him?” Jimin says softly. “I’m pretty sure having an actual conversation with him would fix this whole thing.”

“But…” You hesitate, twisting a stray thread from your sweater between your fingers. “Jimin, what if he hates me?” 

There’s a vulnerability to your voice that you hate, one that only Seokjin, Jimin, and Granny Park have ever seen. It’s rare, mostly because you hate feeling vulnerable, but it makes Jimin’s eyes soften ever so slightly even as he bursts into a fit of giggles so powerful that he almost falls out of his chair. 

“This is not helping!” You hiss, shooting a look at where Seokjin is rolling out chocolate chip cookie dough. He doesn’t look up at Jimin’s outburst, but his lips twitch ever so slightly into a frown and the crease between his brows deepens. 

You know that look, too well. It’s his ‘I Do Not Care Even Though I Actually Do But I Don’t Want You To Know I Care” look. You saw it frequently when he first went off to college, when he was constantly worrying about all the boys he left behind in that little cul-de-sac. You really hoped it wouldn’t ever come back. 

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says eventually, wiping a tear away from one eye. “I really am, I promise, I’m just. Oh, I think I might lose a bet.”

“What? How is that helpful, Jimin? Y’know what, where’s that dumb dog thing Yoongi made you, I need to smush its face until I feel better--”

“What you need,” Jimin says as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder to sit you back down in your chair, “Is to stop abusing my lovingly crafted plushies and actually talk to Seokjin.”

“I can’t tell him how I feel, you know this Chim-”

“Did I say confess?” Jimin asks as he stands, eyes flickering to where his neighbor-slash-girlfriend(?) is in their room. “Just talk to him. I mean really talk to him, okay, about why he’s upset. I think you’ll be surprised.”

Jimin doesn’t give you a chance to protest; he’s gone and disappeared down the hallway before you can blink, and you don’t want to know what’s happening in that room. 

Eventually you meander over to where Seokjin is sliding cookies out of the oven, each perfectly placed to allow for the perfect bake. You putter around for a minute or two, opening and closing cabinet doors at random. You aren’t finding anything interesting, certainly not the strength to have this conversation, which is why you’re startled when someone says, “It’s all the way to the left.”

You turn, and Seokjin is absently stirring leftover melted chocolate. When you fail to move, too busy staring at him in confusion, he turns and points to a cabinet beside you. “The cocoa,” He says, “It’s all the way to the left.”

“Thanks,” You mumble as you move toward it. Inside is a box of candy canes and a weathered tin that you recognize from Seokjin’s apartment. Its twin sits in the bakery, right beside the register so that it’s close at hand for when you inevitably come thundering in with a storm cloud above your head. Each holds the special cocoa recipe that Seokjin learned from his grandfather, who learned it from his grandfather. 

You chance a glance at your best friend; he knows how much you love that cocoa. The people in this cabin right now are the only people he’ll make it for - save for Hoseok and Cat, who still haven’t arrived. Seokjin’s ears are burning red, and a weaker person - or at least one less accustomed to him - may have cooed at the sight. But you’ve spent too long building up the walls so that he’ll never find out just what you keep tucked away in your heart. 

“I’m-”

“Sorry.” He finishes for you. “I know you are. And...I forgive you.” You nod at his words; you couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what had actually upset him, but you’re glad he’s forgiven you for it. Still, it nags at you, because what if it happens again? Unlikely, considering you haven’t been able to get laid in actual years because you’re too smitten with the man standing across from you, but still. 

“Are you going to tell me why you were upset, or are you just going to play with chocolate all night?” You eventually ask. He sighs, heavy and long, and turn to lean back on the counter beside you. He’s wearing his ridiculous alpaca apron that you got him for his birthday, and that only makes him more beautiful as he considers what he wants to say. 

Your heart lurches painfully in your chest. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and it almost feels like he’s close enough to touch, but you just can’t seem to let your hand reach out to do so. You think if you could, you might be able to grab him and hold on forever, but something deep in your gut stills you. 

The fear of losing him, of losing everything that you have with him right now - late nights at the bakery, shopping for birthday presents, the quiet moments in a chaotic world where you find peace in each other. As much as it hurts to love him, as hard as it is to speak around the words that strangle in your throat that speak truth to every feeling you’ve ever locked in the recesses of your heart, you can’t risk telling him. Because this pining and loving and eventually watching him grow old with someone he loves?

That’s enough for you. 

“I just got jealous, I suppose,” Seokjin eventually says. “I always thought that you weren’t interested in sex, y’know? You mentioned it once in college that you’d tried it, but your little half-frown was there, so I knew you didn’t like it, because you get the same one every time you eat gingerbread because you hate it but you don’t want me to get disappointed that you aren’t eating the houses I make. I just thought it wasn’t something you wanted in life.”

“Um.”

“Which is obviously fine, sex isn’t for everyone, asexual people exist and are valid, as are those that are sex-repulsed, y’know? And I decided a long time ago when I first looked into it all that I didn’t care about sex in a relationship. That’s not the important thing to being partners with someone. But apparently sex is a thing for you, and I just wish I had known that because all this time I could’ve-”

“What, set me up with your friends?” 

“No, definitely not. It’s just that we...I could have...it just hurts to know that you’ll have sex with other people but not with me, even though I respect that it’s your decision to make.”

“What.”

“But I just...I know I’m not entitled to an explanation, but I can’t lie, I would really appreciate one if you can give it. I mean...I dunno, I know that I had sex with other people, but we had that whole conversation in college about it, and you seemed alright with it, so I did. And I always told you about them, because communication and openness is important, and I wanted you to know that I was respecting your boundaries with that while also satisfying my own needs. But it really did feel weird, because...y’know, so I stopped. And I guess I assumed that if you weren’t fucking me, you weren’t fucking anyone.”

“What.”

“I just really care about you, Pumpkin, and I know I know don’t really say it a lot because I’m more of a ‘showing it’ kind of guy, but...I just would have appreciated knowing that. Especially since I’ve always been more than willing to love you like that.”

“Spice,” You say slowly, being careful to keep your face blank. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Seokjin blinks at you owlishly. “What do you mean ‘what am I talking about,’ I thought I was pretty clear. I mean...yeah, I’d love it if you would have sex with me, but that’s your decision, and I’m curious as to your reasoning and logic. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter, which is why I forgave you, because as much as it stings, it’s your choice. And I love you, as you know, so-”

“How would I possibly know that?” Your voice catches a little on the words, probably because you’re having a little trouble actually breathing. Everything is fuzzy and the words ‘I’d love it if you would have sex with me’ and ‘I love you’ are playing on a loop in your brain. Your entire world has just shifted on its axis, and yet Seokjin looks completely unbothered. 

“Maybe because I’ve put up with you so long?” He teases with a fond smile. “I mean, I know we aren’t the type to say the words very often, but c’mon Pumpkin. We’ve been dating since you were twelve, not many would last that long without even a kiss.”

“We haven’t been together since I was twelve, though.” He raises a brow at your confused tone. 

“Okay, thirteen, then.” He says. The confusion on your face must be apparent, because it begins to bleed into his, the beautiful features morphing to mirror your own. 

“Seokjin, I don’t know what you’re talking about. We aren’t dating.”

His expression only gets more confused. 

“Uh, yes we are?”

“Uh, no we aren’t? When the fuck did that happen?”

“When you were twelve, as I said. I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“I feel like I would have remembered that happening.”

“Then you should go to a doctor, because it definitely did. It was the best day of my life. We were sitting on the playground, it was recess, you were upset.”

“I remember none of that.”

“You cannot possibly have forgotten this!” Seokjin exclaims. “I cheered you up and offered you my cookie, which you ate in like two bites even though I had made it with salt instead of sugar and it had to be disgusting, because some girl had knocked your cupcake into the dirt-”

“Park Sooyoung, that bitch, I remember that-”

“And then,” Seokjin continues, ignoring your outburst, “I was so deeply honored that you ate that disgusting thing that I offered you the equal honor of being my girlfriend. And you nodded and I kissed your cheek and then you punched me in the arm - which hurt, I might add, for days - and then I watched you play Pokemon Sapphire on your Gameboy Advance.”

The memory rushes in, though not exactly how he remembers it. Park Sooyoung had knocked your cupcake out of your hands and into the dirt, and you had been so mad about it that you’d started to cry. Seokjin found you, curled under a tree away from everyone else, and when he eventually learned what upset you, he’d told Sooyoung off like no one had ever seen. And then he’d handed you the best cookie you’ve ever eaten.

You think maybe that was when you first started falling for Seokjin. With the salty cookie that masked the taste of your own tears, and the angry tirade he had gone on despite the two of you not having known each other for very long, with the wide smile and squeaky laugh and ears so red and cute that you couldn’t focus on whatever he was saying and just nodded along to it. 

“Well...why didn’t you say anything since then?” A thought crosses your mind, and it so horror-filled that you have to ask. “Do the guys know?”

“If they do, it’s not because I told them,” Seokjin answers easily. “When you introduced yourself as my friend, I figured you were just a very private person and didn’t want to rub it in their faces or something.”

“Is that why you always drag me along when you, Hobi, Tae, Cat, and Star go out for karaoke?”

“Obviously,” He scoffs. “What could be better than a triple date with your two best friends?”

“Literally anything! Hobi and Cat sing each other the most raunchy things I’ve ever heard, and Tae does all those weepy ballads or indie songs nobody recognizes, and Star’s got those dopey love eyes all night, it’s revolting.”

“You mean like those faces you make at me when you think I won’t notice?”

“I-” You huff, at a loss. “Well what about the other day, with that girl at Mistledough you were flirting with, who was flirting back and-” Realization hits you. “And she’s Jimin’s neighbor girlfriend lady!”

“Pumpkin. Are you serious right now?” He gives you a dry look, but there’s amusement written all over it. “You’ve heard my sales pitch a hundred times. You’ve given my sales pitch a hundred times, albeit with a little more of a monotone and general ‘I’ll kill you’ vibe to it. It was just so she’d buy all the treats I could possibly sell her.”

You make a small ‘hmph’ noise that you aren’t exactly proud of, but makes Seokjin laugh. He pulls you into a warm hug, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you there. It’s a little awkward, because your arms are still crossed over your chest, but he doesn’t seem to mind and despite all the muttered complaints you give him, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

“So…” Jin says in a too-casual tone after a few minutes. You muffle a groan into his chest, already preparing for the worst. “What kind of sex are you into?”

“Oh my god,” You mumble.

“Wait, you’re right, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He clears his throat and stands to his full height. When he looks at you again, his eyes are full of something you can’t place exactly, but it makes your heart skip nonetheless when he says your full name. “Will you do me the honor of officially becoming my girlfriend? Again?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and nod. The grin takes over his face is blinding, worth all the trouble from the day, as is the soft kiss he presses to your cheek. You can’t help but huff when he pulls away from it, even, and he raises an amused brow at it. 

“Does this mean I can finally kiss you the way I’ve been dreaming of forever?” 

You do roll your eyes this time, but you let your fingers dance over his jaw and pull him into a gentle kiss. His lips are softer than they look, which you truly didn’t think was possible, and the way they mold and move with yours is warm and tender. You don’t even know how long you spend kissing Seokjin. Time isn’t real, not now, not with him pulling you closer and pressing warm against you like every single daydream you’ve let yourself have. 

Years of repressed urges and desire come out before you can stop them, though. Your hands move down to rest on Seokjin’s impossibly tiny waist, slipping behind his apron to tease at the waistband of his slacks. Why he insists everyone wear nice clothes to dinner, you couldn’t possibly say, but they make his ass look phenomenal so you never complain. 

The kisses become more heated, his tongue dipping out to taste your lips for a moment. Hands find their way to your ass and palm it greedily, and he tugs you flush against him. A hard length is pressing into you, and you don’t have to guess to know it's not the rolling pin. 

Images - memories - flash through your mind of that morning. Your mouth waters and you pull back from Seokjin. Panting, lips swollen from kisses, and half-lidded eyes, he's never looked better. 

"Can I suck your dick?"

He groans low in his throat and his eyes fall closed. "Fuck, Pumpkin, right here? Anyone could walk by." You drop to your knees as your hands undo the clasp on the pants. 

"Doubtful, they're probably having that post-dinner nap, or playing some game." Anxiety pools in your gut; you know quite a bit about what Seokjin likes in bed, but you've never been sure if exhibitionism is on that list. "Does it make you uncomfortable? I don't have to. I've just been thinking about it all day." 

Seokjin barks out a quick laugh and shakes his head. "No," He says, "I definitely would love for you to suck my dick in this kitchen if you want to."

"Good." You flip his apron to the side and tug his cock out of its confines. You don't bother dropping his pants all the way; there's no time, you're too impatient. "Let me know if anyone shows up." 

Whatever he's about to say gets cut off by a sharp intake of breath as you warp your lips around the head of him. One of his hands moves to grip the counter behind him and the other rests lightly on your crown; he doesn't pull or tug, just keeps his hand as a gentle pressure as you sink him deeper into your mouth.

As much as you've never been one for sucking dick, you're in heaven. There's no other explanation for why it feels this good to have him sitting heavy against your tongue as he hits the back of your throat. There are still two inches left so you wrap your hand around it and hollow your cheeks as you pull back. 

A strangled moan escapes him, and his fingers tighten ever so slightly in your hair. Heat floods to your core and you kick yourself internally because you could have been doing this for years. Your tongue darts out to slide teasingly along the underside of his cock and he reflexively thrusts into your mouth. 

You cough a little and pull back, wiping spit from your lips as you catch your breath, and Seokjin is already spewing apologies. 

“I’m fine,” You say as you sit back against the cabinet, tugging him to stand in front of you. His back is to most of the kitchen and your head rests against the hard wood behind you while you eye the hard wood in front of you. “I can take a little bit of roughness, Spice, don’t worry.”

He looks hesitant so you ghost your fingers along his length to tease him. His jaw clenches at the same time his eyes close and you resist the urge to smile. Tension bleeds out of his shoulders and when he opens his eyes again, he quirks a brow in a silent question and you nod. 

In seconds, he’s in your throat once more, thrusting himself in and out at a slow pace that makes you clench with the desire to feel it elsewhere. You hollow your cheeks and suck properly as he fucks your throat, and he muffles another moan.

“Fuck, Pumpkin, please don’t stop,” Seokjin whines quietly. You smile, just a little, and take him back into your throat for a few seconds before pulling back and repeating the process. Each time he hits the back of your throat, he lets out a muffled groan that only makes you wetter. His cock is thick and your jaw aches and you’re struggling to breathe just a little bit, but the fucked out expression on his face is more than worth it. 

Something clatters in the hallway and you freeze, Seokjin’s cock sheathed to the hilt in your throat. His ears turn red and he starts to pull back, but you stop him with a hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, surprised, and you chance a wink that makes him chuckle. 

Footsteps make their way past, giggles following close behind, and you hear the door leading to the hot tub open and close. After a few seconds of silence, Seokjin relaxes, pulling out of your throat. You take a few deep breaths and glance over to the door, curious. 

“Jimin and Snow,” He tells you, one hand absently stroking along your cheek. “We probably shouldn’t use the hot tub tonight.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “Why would I want to anyway? Have you heard Namjoon’s lecture on what could potentially grow in a hot tub if it isn’t sanitized regularly? It’s not a fun lecture.” Seokjin laughs, squeaky and adorable, and helps you to your feet. He doesn’t hesitate to pepper kisses along your cheeks, and you wrinkle your nose even as tilt your head so he can get the places he missed. 

“Now when you said that you can handle a little roughness…” Seokjin says, voice a soft murmur in your ear. You make a small hum of affirmation, encouraging him to continue. “Does that mean I can spank you for not finishing blowing me, or is that something you’d rather not do?”

“Fuck, Seokjin,” You hiss, rubbing your thighs together. “Now you have to do it.”

He’s got you turned around in an instant, your fancy dress pants on the ground a few seconds later. His hands mold to your ass, cupping the flesh briefly through your underwear before letting his hands fall away. 

It’s methodical and slow and torturous, how he peels away that last layer keeping him from your wetness. You know that the fabric is soaked through, it has been since you first got his dick in your mouth, and Seokjin groans at the sight. 

“Even better than I imagined,” He mutters. Your cheeks heat in a rare blush, and you drop your head down between where your forearms are braced against the countertop. His hand smacks against your ass, lightly, and you choke back a laugh. Is that really what he thinks a spank is?

Another slap hits you, no real force behind it, and you scoff under your breath. 

“What?” Seokjin asks. When you look back at him, he’s expectant, like he knows what you’re about to say. 

“Is that what you call a slap?” You ask. He rolls his eyes and pulls his hand back for another. It already looks unsatisfying, and you can’t help but push him a little further. “I always wondered why your dough doesn’t rise high enough. Guess I know now.”

His eyes darken and a chill comes over you. 

“Oh, is that how this is gonna be?” He asks. He gestures for you to face forward again and you do, curious as to the dark look in his eyes. 

Something hard and cold smacks into your ass, and you yelp in surprise. There’s a little more force behind it, enough to sting pleasantly but not enough to hurt. 

“Is that better, Pumpkin?” He asks. There’s a mocking tone to his voice, but when you look back, you can see the slant of his lips and tension in his jaw that shows he’s concerned. The rolling pin from earlier rests in his hands, and it flares something in your gut. 

“Much,” You tell him as you turn back around. He spanks you with it again, and again, and again, and it isn’t until you feel something wet drip down the back of your leg that you remember the chocolate he was fucking around with earlier. 

“If you get that on my nice clothes, I will destroy you,” You warn him. He laughs a little and there’s a thump as the rolling pin hits the countertop. 

“Is that code for get me naked?” He asks, a laugh in his voice. 

“No, that’s code for lick it up and then fuck my brains out.” 

The laugh in his throat quickly becomes a growl and he sets to work doing just that. His tongue runs over your skin, gently lapping at the chocolate there, and several times he gets distracted leaving purple marks in his wake. He even slides tongue along your slit, long and thorough and quick, and you almost come just from the obscene moan he lets out. 

"Fuck, please, I need you," You gasp out. Seokjin slides a hand under your shirt, massaging the muscles in your back as he does, and stands to his full height.

"Let me know if it hurts," He says softly. His voice is a whisper against your ear and it's never sounded quite so wrecked or beautiful. "I'll stop, okay?"

"If you don't get inside me in the next five seconds, I will go ask Jimin and Snow if I can join them in their kinky hot tub," you growl. 

He curses quietly and thrusts his length inside you. Neither of you are quite prepared for what it feels like, and the moment he gets buried to the hilt, he stills. 

"Shit, Pumpkin, I'm not gonna last long," He mutters. You can't even manage words. The stretch is absolutely blissful, just on the right side of painful when paired with the sting of your still-tender ass. He's the perfect height for this, too; perfectly lined up without either of you having to try very hard. 

He pulls almost entirely out, leaving just the dusty pink head you remember inside. There's not even a chance to whine at the loss, because before you know it, he's slamming back in. 

Seokjin's pace is erratic and harried; there's no smooth strokes here. You're both in too much of a rush, too drunk on the pleasure to want anything but release. 

Hands move along your skin, one lifting your shirt so he can pepper kisses along your spine while the other reaches down to gently tweak your clit. 

It takes three swipes of his finger to have your knees shaking with the power of your orgasm. You clench around him and he stills. You can't think, your brain is absolutely fried at this point; all you know is the feeling of him inside you and the disappointing emptiness when he pulls out. 

Warmth hits your back and Seokjin's moans echo in your ears. You're almost afraid to turn around, afraid this is some hyper-realistic dream.

"Shit, hold on, let me clean this up," he says, panting. You can hear him moving through the kitchen and when he comes back, something cold and wet slides along your back. 

You wait patiently as he cleans you up. He wipes away every instance of cum and chocolate from your skin - though he looks a little disappointed to be doing so, which you file away for later. 

"God, that's so much fucking cum," You say, wrinkling your nose at the mass of wet wipes he tosses in the trash while you fasten your pants once more. 

It's just in time, too, as Jimin and Snow come in from the hot tub, smiling and giggly with each other. 

"Ah," Jimin says, looking between you and Seokjin. "I did lose a bet. Damn, she's gonna be so pleased with herself."

You glare at him, but there's no real heat behind it. The two of them disappear to get dressed in actual clothes, and you and Seokjin set to work plating the cookies and treats he'd made. 

You can't stop the fond look at the rolling pin every few minutes. 

Later, after you discover Cat and Hobi have arrived safely and you make sure they actually eat the plates set aside for them, you're on the hunt for Seokjin. He's disappeared somewhere and it's almost time for the countdown. 

You finally find him - where else - in the kitchen, making a horrified face at Namjoon. 

"What? It was good," Namjoon says with a frown. Seokjin just waves him off and Namjoon shrugs, grabbing a couple glasses of champagne and heading back to Slick. 

You sidle up to him as close as you can get and he wraps an arm around your waist like it's second nature. It's surreal, that the man you love is pressing a kiss to your temple and handing you a mug of cocoa. 

"I'm glad we talked," He says eventually. You hum your agreement; you aren't looking at him, just staring down into your cocoa as you absently stir it with a candy cane, but you do lean into him ever so slightly. "Remind me to bake Jimin a cake."

"Why? What's he done to deserve a cake?"

"He helped me out earlier, while I was cooking dinner. Helped me figure out how to say what I needed to, that sort of thing."

Your face shoots up as your heart clenches in your chest. "Jimin," You echo. "Jimin is why you decided to talk about your feelings." Seokjin just nods, eyes wide and not understanding why you have murder in your eyes. 

"I'm gonna kill him so hard-" You say, already setting your mug down and turning to go find that short gremlin and skin him alive. You don't get two steps before a hand comes to rest on your shoulder, heavy but gentle. 

Seokjin pulls you closer to him, a smile playing on his lips as he does. "Why would you want to kill Jimin for that, Pumpkin?"

"Because!" You exclaim. "Jimin's the only one that knows that I-"

The words tangle in your throat, cloying together into a ball you can't seem to unwind. You're too used to choking it down. You don't know how to say it. 

"That you love me?" Seokjin finishes. You can't bear to look at him, huffing slightly as you turn to stare out the kitchen window at the snow-covered trees beyond. 

Seokjin's hand glides down your arm to wrap around your own, tangling his fingers with yours. With a grace you tend to forget he has, he brings them both upwards until he can press a soft kiss in the center of your palm. 

"Jimin isn't the only one that knows that, Pumpkin," He says quietly. You can feel your ears burning, a pleasant contrast from how it's usually him embarrassed and red. 

"Whatever," you grumble, giving up on your mission to brutally murder one of your best friends. Seokjin laughs, loud and squeaky and wonderful, and pulls you into another hug. 

"I love you too," He whispers. "Now, let's go join the others. I believe you owe me several years of kisses."

"You wish," You mutter half-heartedly. He hands you your cocoa and pats your still-sore ass with a wink.

"That's a great move."

"Really?"

"Yes." There's a pause as she waits for you to remove your fingers from the piece. "If you want to lose."

You offer her a weak glare that she ignores as she studies the board. 

"I'm glad that you and Seokjinnie finally got things figured out. It was very cute to watch, but it was getting a little ridiculous, you know." 

She moves a piece, and you squint to try to help you figure out her strategy. 

"Right, it had nothing to do with your bet with Jimin," You say sarcastically as you move another piece. You eye her, one finger still remaining on it, to try to figure out if it's what she expected. 

"Of course not," She says as you remove your hand. "That was merely a bonus." She immediately lays a piece, gaining even more of an advantage than she already had. 

"Well then," You start as you lay another piece, "I'm sure you know all about Jimin and his neighbor, and Star and Tae I don't need to tell you anything about Yoongi or Cat or Jeongguk, either, probably." 

Her fingers hesitate over the piece she's picking up, and her eyes narrow at you. 

"Ah, don't be so cruel. You're supposed to respect your elders, you know."

"Alright, Granny Park," You say with a rare grin as you glance to where Seokjin is baking a ‘sorry we fucked in your kitchen’ cake and decoration some sugar-free cookies for her. "What exactly do you want to know?

[darkcolinodonorgasm]

the space in between (1/2)

A/N: HELLO @courtorderedcake IT ME! Your @cssecretsanta2020 !! I am so so so so sooooorry about this delay, I swear I hoped I would have it completely ready for Christmas but I’ve found myself late and having to split this in two. I won’t tire you out with the whys, just know that the fact it was you I was supposed to write for brought me back a bit from the writer’s block so I will have to thank you - I really hope this fic will be worthy and show all my gratitude. Love ya girl, hope you had amazing festivities (and don’t worry, smut will be in part 2 ;3). For now, enjoy kickass witches ♥ (Also, a certain asshole behaviour will be explained, because you really can’t expect me to do my boy dirty like that, can you???)

Summary: Emma knew it was bad when her "brother-in-law" sent his girlfriends to ask her for a favour on his behalf. That was bad. So what was worse? Well, worse was realizing the half-elf she was supposed to find was the one she'd hooked up with a few months ago and never called her back.

Read on ao3

«No.»

No.

Such a simple word, full of meaning, one that should always be respected and honoured. Sometimes it was a plea. Some other times, an exclamation, but it usually was an answer to someone else’s question.

This time, it was the latter: a firm response, an irreversible decision. Emma Swan was adamant in following through.

Although it was very hard for her to say no to two of the three people she considered sisters. There was no chance in hell she would mix with half-elves.

Not. A-fucking-gain.

She wasn’t fuming, not yet, but she knew both Elsa and Ruby would support their boyfriend’s cause.

Of course, that was not the problem.

The problem wasn’t even how much of an asshole Liam was: as charming as he was with her sisters and pretty much everyone else, he was… dare she say, beyond horrible with her.

And to say he was her sisters’ true love.

Which meant she couldn’t just make him disappear from the face of the earth.

Pity.

«Here you go, lovelies,» Grace’s voice interrupted their stare-off. The lovely barista sat their warm drinks down in front of them.

Just by looking at each, Emma knew what kind of emotion they contained.

Her hot chocolate could very well have been a fucking tea with how much calmness had poured into it.

Well, Emma figured, two witches breaking into a fight wasn’t good for business. Add a werewolf to the mix and Emma should probably start charging more for her services or just learn how to spin gold.

Elsa’s drink of choice was hot cocoa too, but instead of cinnamon, she favoured a probably unhealthy amount of peppermint.

As for Ruby, she may have been raised with sweet tea by her lovely Granny, but she had developed quite the taste for spiked black coffee.

All their drinks had been dosed with one of Grace’s brews, which made Elsa bristle at the realization. A light snowfall started to swirl around her.

Despite her young age, Grace glared at the ice witch. «If you’re gonna keep that up, you know where the mop is.»

Ruby grinned as she took a sip of coffee. «Mhm, rum. You’ll have to keep it hidden, or I’ll be able to sniff it out, Gracie.»

Grace huffed out a laugh. «You already know where it is, you nosey wolf.» With that, and one last glare at Elsa, she went back behind the counter. Once again, Emma admired the colourful display behind her, her creations, what she had become famous for, almost endless rows of bottled emotions to help people during their day, just like any coffee shop would… just with a special ingredient to it.

Unlike love potions, Grace’s creations were more of a stimulus, useful to boost someone up during a bad day or give them a drop of luck if they have something they need to ace. Sometimes, though, Grace faked that, for she knew what these people needed was just the illusion that they could make it. She felt bad for tricking her customers, which was why she gave them cupcakes with a relax-infused buttercream. Also known as pot, the good kind, the kind wizards and witches grew.

These emotions weren’t an illusion: they did affect a person’s sensations, but they didn’t radically change nor created them.

Emma had been in awe of the young girl, as had pretty much everyone else. When vultures came into town and wanted her to sell the recipes, the whole population of Storybrooke protected her, although she demonstrated that she needed no protection.

With her witty brain, Grace had managed to turn the law against those greedy assholes. One does not simply ask a witch to sell her potions.

«So,» Ruby began, «why exactly don’t you want to help Liam?» At Emma’s arched eyebrows, Ruby gave her a tight-lipped smile. «Yeah, no, forget I even asked. It’s just… it’s his brother, Em, the only family he’s left. Liam raised Killian like a son after their father sold them to this crazy wizard to escape a gambling debt, and considering they were young half-elves...» She swallowed, and Emma couldn’t help the pang of pity and sorrow for the two young kids. She’d heard the stories, and given how serious they were, she bet Liam had opened up to them about his past.

Though stories usually were worse than the truth, twisted one way or another, Emma just knew those tales of torture and abuse were better than the naked truth.

«Why me?» she blurted. «I’m sorry, I know he’s basically family, but he’s been treating me like shit since the very beginning, never even making an effort… And now he’s asking me for help? Fuck, it’s almost as if I went back to Neal and asked him for a favour!»

Elsa’s eyes bulged; she’d clearly not realized how deeply Liam’s attitude hurt Emma. Her icy mask slipped back into place, concealing her emotions. «You are his only hope, Em.»

Her pleading tone almost broke Emma’s heart. Elsa never begged, ever. She always tried to find a solution on her own, sometimes even pissing her sisters off, and though she had barely learned to ask for help, never once had she begged.

Emma frowned. «I know I’m good at finding people, but he would be able to track him down without a problem, his kind has specific spells for that. If he can’t, there still is the globe, and even then, he would just need a drop of his own blood.»

The two lovers look at one another, a worried tension flowing between them.

Biting her lip, Ruby produced a slip of paper, handing it to Emma. «I suppose this is why.»

The moment she saw the symbol, Emma felt the paper burn her skin. Actually, it caught fire for real; the magic inside of her burned the paper to ashes, calming only when it was completely gone, the dust floating away from her.

Once her heartbeat had slowed, Emma looked up at Elsa.

they had lost so many to the Coven, some they cared about and loved, some they despised, but still, they knew they Eight very well.

Emma would never dare forget Ingrid, her and Elsa’s and Anna’s adoptive mother, how she’d sacrificed herself, dying at the hands of the Coven to protect her daughters.

Grace’s mother had been a victim as well, joining them only to protect her family and dying when they realized she was trying to destroy them from the inside.

They had almost lost Ivy and Anastasia, but the sisterly love, along with Henry’s desperation and love for Ivy, as well as a healthy dose of friendship from the people of Storybrooke helped them stay on the right path.

The Mills sisters were a different kind of mess altogether: ambitious, power-hungry and reckless, they’d jumped at the opportunity to join the Coven.

Emma didn’t mind not seeing their faces around town anymore, but the thought of anyone willingly accept to join those bitches…

And now they had a half-elf in their clutches.

She worried her lip between her teeth. The power of the Eight was beyond Emma’s comprehension, so powerful it was able to able to break blood magic.

What would they possibly want with him?

Half elves, or at least their descendants with enough elven blood in their veins capable of guaranteeing them the title, were still extremely powerful, but, more than that, their blood was sought out as much as their magic.

The blood of an elf was the rarest ingredient for longevity potions: it didn’t warrant immortality, but whoever drank it could live even a thousand years, if not more. Half-elves weren’t precisely immortal, much like witches or werewolves and many other creatures, they aged quite slowly instead.

However, it was their power that stunned Emma the most: while Elsa had ice magic and just that, and while Emma herself possessed pure white magic, elves used their link to nature to alter the elements, to use the inner power of whatever surrounded then to craft, to heal, to fight…

Their power was similar to Anna’s who could master the elements, all four of them, but elves were different: not only they could shape the elements as it pleased them, but sunlight, darkness, weather, even time and space were all at their mercy.

Nowadays, half-elves didn’t dabble in the darkest spells, preferring to keep a low profile.

It seems it didn’t work out well for Killian.

Her shoulders momentarily slumped in defeat, but she squared them up, turning fully into the detective witch that she was.

«What do we know?»

Ruby’s smile was so wide and bright it could rival the light of a full moon.

«Just to make this clear, I’m not doing it for Liam,» Emma emphasized with one finger pointed at the brunette.

«Sure not,» Elsa shot back from behind the rim of her mug, sipping the hot chocolate as if it were the sweetest tea she ever spilled.

-/-

Emma traced the photograph Liam had given her. It was of two young boys, barely eighteen, with striking blue eyes and dimples in their smiles.

They looked free, free of demons and pains of the past.

Liam looked softer, the type of guy you’d love to have as a friend, a big brother, or even as a lover.

But Emma couldn’t stay focused on Liam for long, her attention enraptured by the other young man, with his mop of black hair falling over his forehead and his pointed ears.

Killian. So that’s your name.

To her, all those months ago, Killian had ben Rogers. A fake name, she’d known that, but probably that was another way for elves to protect themselves, even despite the dead giveaway that were his ears.

She would have given everything to know his true name that night, the only thing he’d lied to her about. He’d just called her love or Swan all night long, but at least her surname had been the truth.

«I will call you, and I will tell you my true name.»

So this is why never called, Emma sighed to herself, feeling her heart tighten in her chest.

She’d met Rogers - Killian - about two months earlier at Aesop’s Tables, the pub where one went mostly to drink and get into a brawl rather than hook up with someone, which was what The Rabbit Hole was for.

And drink she did, to the point that she began flirting with the handsome bartender.

His drinks were pure magic, and she knew a lot about magic.

He’d told her his name was Rogers, and she’d told him he could call her however he wanted. Emma had never felt so free. It hadn’t been the alcohol, it had been the way she felt when she was with him, as if nothing scared her anymore and she could take over the whole world with him by her side.

It was magic.

And then they’d kissed in the storage room, and he’d made her come so fast it had sent her usually controlled magic crazy. The whole block had suffered a very long and inconvenient blackout.

But that had not stopped them.

That night, Emma had done something she’d always been adamant on never, ever doing: she brought him home with her. To her own house.

The sex had been out of this world, and they’d not even used any magic spell, the chemistry and lust between them needing no help in getting either of them off. In fact, Emm had not even needed to get herself off. Fuck, she’d even come just from penetrative sex alone.

And then he’d left early in the morning, promising he would call - she might or might not have written her phone number on his forearm. With magic.

And now she was fuming at the disappointment her love life had always been.

Had she been so thoroughly fucked that her lie-detecting power had fucked her up?

Guilt twisted her insides: she’d thought poorly of him when he surely was now in worse shape… if he even was still alive.

Liam was sure he was, just not within this world.

«Try to imagine a portal,» he said, treating her like an actual human being for the first time ever. «We use them to travel to other parts of the world, summonings open portals to other worlds entirely. Mermaids’ magic allows them to cross underwater portals. However, that’s not the point. Inside portals, time doesn’t exist, and space is crafted accordingly to the creator’s magic. Usually, you don’t see what’s inside of one, you don’t stay inside of it long enough. Sometimes, you feel it, especially if it belongs to you.» He swallowed, horror crossing his face. «Being stuck inside a portal is life-threatening in more ways than one. It doesn’t happen often that people have been killed by a portal gone wrong, and even then, you don’t hear about it until the magic drains out its master and it spits out their remains.»

Emma had heard tragedies like that could happen, it was a warning everyone had better heed when learning about portals or simple “poofing”, as many called moving from one place to another.

However, being warned and knowing it happened, fearing the same could have happened to Killian were two very distinct things.

«So he’s stuck in a limbo?»

Liam nodded, eyes downcast.

«I wouldn’t worry about it being a portal summoned by my little brother: they want him alive, and they want his power to be fully accessible and intact.» Liam cleared his throat. «Someone, or multiple someones, created a portal specifically to hold him prisoner.»

Emma’s brows crinkled. «It can be done?»

Portals were not her strongest suit; to her, they were just a mean to an end, nothing more.

«It’s not easy, and requires great power. You’d wonder why, since creating a hole through space is quite challenging itself, but think of it like putting a barrier between places, between one second and the next.»

With a thoughtful hum, Emma nodded. «That sounds like something the Coven would pull off,» she muttered almost to herself.

«What’s the deal with these witches anyway?» Liam snapped, but Emma didn’t take it personally, this time.

Truth was, she didn’t know either. «When they approached me a few years ago, it was because their leader wanted to recruit me, to recruit eight of the most powerful witches of all time, to lead and command and keep under her thumb. She promised unlimited power and she would do anything to make you say yes. Some joined her on a whim, some were forced to do so, some others managed to resist that irresistible offer, but still, they are always eight. Eloise… Gothel, whatever her fucking name is, has an agenda but she never shares it, or she just lies to the rest of the Coven about her true goal. That’s pretty much all I know. But they left a message, they left the symbol, which means they want to be found, or at least they want you to know it was them.» She studied Liam carefully, wondering if he was ready for the final blow. «They want to gloat, because none of those who challenged them ever came out of that fight alive.»

Liam crumbled inside at that affirmation, and both Elsa and Ruby placed a comforting hand on each of his shoulders. Emma, too, felt a pang of sadness: it was clear that Liam loved his brother, probably even more than his own life, and being powerless when his family was threatened was a horrible sensation Emma knew too well.

Still, he clenched his jaw and looked at her dead in the eye. «Can you find them?»

The air crackled, electricity snapped like a ferocious wolf’s teeth. For a moment, Emma feared Liam would lose control. Slowly, scared that any rushed movement would set him off, she nodded.

«I can. I still have their invitation.»

She’d not pronounced the last syllable yet that two sets of eyes shot daggers at her.

«You what?»

«Excuse me?»

The atmosphere suddenly turned cold, icy cold, and not in a metaphorical way.

Giving Elsa an apologetic smile, Emma shrugged. «I kept it in case something happened to you or Anna or someone I know. I needed to be able to find them.»

To her surprise, or maybe not completely so, Liam nodded his understanding, soon followed by Ruby and, lastly, by Elsa.

«We will need back-up,» Emma warned them. «The Coven is powerful, and if they managed to drain even a smidge of Killian’s power… we might not make it.»

Saying those words out loud hurt: there was nothing more painful than knowing she could fail in saving the life of a stranger who’d become so important to her in so little time.

«I’ll die trying,» Liam swore, determination blazing hotly in his eyes.

Emma nodded, not only in understanding but knowing too well that she, too, would die if they failed, but she would happily sacrifice her life trying.

«Then let’s make a few calls.»

-/-

Emma shivered, teeth chattering, turning her glare toward Elsa less intimidating.

«Was it really necessary?» she managed to get out without biting off her tongue.

The other blond shrugged. Emma knew this was payback for keeping the invitation a secret. At least Ruby hadn’t tried to bite something off of her. Yet.

They were all gathered in the woods north of Storybrooke, the nature all around them the perfect catalyst to aid them in their quest. They had lit up a fire for the spell, but Elsa had kept Emma wrapped up in some sort of bubble of cold.

She ushered closer to the blazing fire, and to Anna, the redhead’s hair catching the light of the flames.

As someone who’d never had magic until several years ago, Anna was extremely controlled, which was unexpected given her bubbly character. Or, perhaps, that was just a perfect balance.

«You want me to warm you up?» Anna offered, eyes never moving away from the dancing fire.

«She would just wait after everything is done to torture me even further,» Emma grumbled, numb fingers tightening against her ribcage.

«She’ll get over it. Liam will see to that,» Anna winked at Emma, who smirked in return.

The opening of another portal stopped Emma from commenting on Elsa’s sex life. When she saw who had just stepped into the clearing, her eyes widened and a full smile appeared on her face. «Lily! You came!»

The dark-haired witch grinned. She and Emma went way back; she was one of those who had been courted by the Coven. Lily had almost betrayed Emma, but thought better of it and vanished for a while. Eloise had, after all, told her she had dragon blood in her veins, and for an orphan searching for a home, that was treasurable information.

Lily had well since found her birth mother, and now they both happily lived on the coast of France. «When will I ever have the chance to bring those bitches down and see my friend in the same evening?»

Emma laughed, hugging Lily tightly before stepping away. Her gaze swept all around her, taking in every person gathered by the fire.

Six witches, a werewolf and a half-elf.

Taking a deep breath, Emma signaled for the others to form a circle. «It’s time.»

Once they all had taken their places, Emma took the parchment with the symbol of the Coven out of her signature red leather jacket. The paper was yellow now, but the ink had not faded in the slightest. The invitation almost burned her fingertips; she tossed it in the fire, and began to chant.

Wind gusted between her legs, penetrating through her jeans and messing up her hair until its coldness replaced Elsa’s.

Twice they recited the spell before Emma felt something prodding at her magic, something that wanted to keep her away.

Out of nowhere, a new, unknown force came to her help, breaking the hold this opposing magic had on Emma’s, shattering the wall it was trying to form to keep them away.

It was a force Emma had never felt or seen before, only read about. It was bright, like the sun, impossible to look at even though she was dying to.

Liam, she realized.

Emma had no idea what sort of elements was he channeling, whether it was something to force space to open up for them or some sort of inner power that could absorb the attack of a witch as powerful as Gothel.

It felt like trying to push a door open when someone was forcing it closed: once the resistance crumbled, Emma stumbled forward, almost falling over into the world of the Coven.

Haunting was the perfect adjective to describe the space surrounding them.

Smelling of death was another.

Emma felt almost like retching what she’d had for lunch three days ago. One look at her companions told her they weren’t faring any better.

All around them, what once had been beautiful plants, flowers and trees, was now a macabre sight, lifeless and rotting.

Emma wasn’t sure this was what Liam had described, but she also couldn’t feel Killian’s presence, if not a lingering, faint trace.

«Oh, love, I’m so glad you brought company.»

Gothel’s voice came from all around them, echoing in the air like thunder. «Are you trying to make me forgive you for turning down my invitation?»

«Actually,» Emma spoke, «I’m here to kick your ass, but you do you.»

A sickening laugh almost pierced her eardrums and, in a rustle of dead leaves, Gothel appeared, her dark blond hair braided in a heavy hairdo, her red robes threatening to crumble to dust with the next movement.

Next to her, Emma heard Liam suck in a sharp breath. Did he recognize Gothel from somewhere?

As if on cue, the witch’s piercing eyes focused on him, an amused, almost mocking smile playing on her lips. «Oh, you brought the useless brother, I see.»

Both Ruby and Elsa snarled at the insult, and Emma had to admit, she didn’t like anyone insulting Liam either. Anyone who wasn’t her, of course.

Imperturbable, Liam cocked his eyebrow. «That so?» he asked, his amused expression resembling so much, too much, his brother’s.

Gothel laughed a loud, annoying cackle Emma wanted to choke out of her. «Of course you wouldn’t know. You elves claim to be the most intelligent beings on earth, yet you know nothing about your own formidable power.»

Yes, let’s get the bitch rambling, Emma cocked her head, her magic gathering within her, ready to strike.

In her peripheral vision, Emma saw swirls of smoke leave witches in their wake, the Coven finally coming out to play.

Though this was their playground, she knew her little entourage could take them. Or so she hoped.

Revenge is a more powerful fuel that thirst for power.

«You fool,» Gothel repeated mockingly, «your power has been tainted, it’s not… how can I say, pure. It doesn’t respond to you anymore, its focus is entirely on your true love. Or should I say loves?» Even when talking so passionately about magic, she still was derisory.

For a being that claims to be thousands of years old, she seems not to have developed a good sense of humour.

Humming, Liam tilted his head. «So you wanted Killian because he’s not met his true love yet?» There was… something in Liam’s voice, something irrisory that escaped Emma until she looked back at Gothel.

It was just for a moment, for the fraction of a second, but it happened: the witch’s face fell, soon to be masked again, but Emma had seen that.

Does this mean…

Did that maybe mean that Killian had found his true love, after all?

Had he found her - or him - after they met? Had he-

Suddenly, grief ripped through her, making the ground beneath her feet crack a little. she had no power over the elements per se, but her light magic allowed her a few tricks. If controlled, Emma reminded herself, clenching her fists at her sides.

Did Liam know something? Did he know Emma was pining after his brother and had been horrible on purpose? No, that was ridiculous: he’d always been like that, had been for years.

She just wondered how could he be so smug in a situation like that.

Still, Emma could see through his playful act: beneath the mask, he was simmering with rage.

«I suppose it’s common for the Jones men to be tough to break, but to break someone’s mind and willpower is oh so satisfying.» Gothel grinned, probably aiming for a Cheshire cat kind of smile, but ending up just resembling some D-rated horror movie’s villain. «I’ll make sure to bring Killian your regards, love.»

That was the last straw.

Emma’s magic acted on instinct, blasting from her palms like lightning.

The fuck? Have I turned into Thor or something?

To her surprise, Gothel had unfortunately dodged the blow, which instead caused one of the trees behind her to catch fire.

As if hurt herself, GOthel snarled and soon vines snapped through the air, enveloping Emma’s forearms in a tight vice.

Though focused on getting free, Emma saw hell break loose all around her: fireballs, Regina’s signature attack, flew around them, only to be frozen and shatter to the ground thanks to Elsa. Zelena’s attacks were wicker and sneakier, but soon Ruby was tackling her in wolf form, the road to the witch’s neck paved clear by Anastasia.

More witches used their devious spells against them, never able to overcome their strength. Emma had to wonder, since the Coven was supposed to be the most powerful force out there. Had Gothel become so sloppy she couldn’t see true power anymore?

Soon, Emma’s entire focus switched back on Gothel, her magic unsuccessfully trying to burn the vines that trapped her.

Four small feet and something long and warm, trailed down her arm stopping at the elbow.

Hello, Bruni.

It took the blue fire lizard just one sweep of its flaming tail to free Emma just in time to counter Gothel’s blast of magic with one of her own, the explosion blinding her for a moment.

It was quite obvious that Gothel’s magic was related to nature, but she seemed to be draining it from all around her, unlike elves or smart witches who just took what nature gave them without demanding more. Emma had heard of witches tainting the elements, but she’d yet to meet someone who’d drained every plant in sight.

The fire lizard freed Emma’s other arm before climbing back up to her shoulder. «Bruni,» she murmured, «go have fun.

The creature tutted, scrambling off her body in a rush and leaving a trail of bright blue fire behind.

Emma turned triumphantly toward Gothel, now torn between focusing on Emma or the pest setting her lair ablaze.

With a grin, Emma cast a binding spell, but though weaker than her other attacks, Gothel managed to avoid it, casting a spell of her own, a blast of thorns that Emma miraculously dodged. Only a few sliced through her hair, cutting off a few strands. She almost gasped in horror at the sight of her golden locks on the ground, squinting at the grinning bitch.

All around them the witches of the Coven were falling, but not without a fight. One of Ruby’s paws was covered in blood but the wolf was showing no sign that she would stop, her tongue sweeping over bloody fangs, hungry.

Ivy was injured, her clothes torn and Lily had burns all over her thigh, though Emma knew better than worry about that: it wasn’t just blood that ran through the brunette’s veins, after all.

«You’ll never get him back!» Gothel taunted them, too calm or Emma to think the battle was over. She was right, even if they did kill them all, they still would have to find Killian.

This time, it was Liam who chuckled. «You forget, witch, that all I need from you is a single drop of blood. I’m surprised you let us in your… garden. Were you hoping more of us would come and fall so you could grow us all into trees to drain? Oh, aye, Gothel, I know about your reputation, how once you get tired of one of your precious followers or they begin to question you, they just seem to disappear. Not just that, I also can feel them. That’s right, I feel their dying spirits. It took me longer than I’d expected to realize what you are, but now I know. We’ve heard so much about you, nymph.»

Nymph?!

It was as if the world had stopped turning, time standing still as those who had not lost consciousness or were still alive, on both sides of this war, watched on, pausing their fight to listen to Liam’s accusation, to his truth.

Gothel bristled, green rippling beneath her skin. «Shut your bloody mouth, halfling.» Thick black vines covered in oozing thorns reached for him. With a mere wave of Liam’s hand, they fell on the floor, writhing like snakes whose head had been removed before they stilled and turned to dust.

Emma was impressed, she had to admit. And maybe a little bit jealous, but just because she’d always had a bit of trouble with fire spells and her magic had been… defective until she was a teen and Ingrid had taught her how to control it.

His words, though, were even more shocking.

Her mind was reeling: if Gothel truly was a nymph, she had to be powerful, or at least she shouldn’t have to resort to drain the nature around her to cast a simple spell, and she definitely shouldn’t need to feed off another witch’s power, or a half-elf’s wor that matter.

COuld it be that she’d lost her powers altogether? Was that even possible?

Emma wasn’t so sure about that: there must be something else, something she couldn’t quite grasp.

«I don’t think I will,» Liam went on. «You, on the other hand, will.»

A sphere of pure energy, which was also called the fifth element or quintessence, left Liam’s hands, causing Emma to actually fear him for one moment.

Gothel’s screech was so deafening Emma brought her arms to cover her face, head ducking between her shoulders as she pressed them against her ears, the light blinding her even with her eyes closed.

When her vision cleared, Emma saw Gothel still standing, unscathed, a portal swirling behind her. Her eyes widened in realization: Gothel had diverted the blow and whatever was on the other side of the portal had taken the damage.

Unless…

Emma’s brows knitted together, wondering, her thoughts interrupted by a muffled, bloodcurdling scream.

All the colour drained from Liam’s face, shock and unbearable pain slowly leaving place to pure unrestrained fury. It was like looking straight into the eye of the storm.

Before she could take the next breath, Emma was moving. She didn’t even remember telling her legs to move, her arms to reach forward or her hands to tangle in Gothel’s braids. She pulled, using all her strength until the muscles in her arms screamed, begging her to let go as Gothel struggled, her long talons painfully digging into her wrists.

Emma hissed, gritting her teeth against the powerful bursts of magic that were making her bones rattle inside her body. Yet, despite her pain, she didn’t yield, dragging her feet until she stumbled past the portal, its magic ruffling her hair like a caress.

One of Gothel’s desperate kicks hit home, and she fell with one knee on the soil just as the witch’s nails dug into her flesh, allowing magic to penetrate her veins.

«Close the portal!» Emma yelled in agony, fighting the tears of pain and hoping that someone, anyone, would follow her order.

She knew, as did everyone else, that it was a risk.

Nah, fuck that: it could be a death sentence.

But if I let her go, Killian will die.

That was unacceptable.

Gothel struggled against Emma’s hold, the portal wavering, closing down like an open mouth for a moment, too close for a moment before it went back to its original shape.

Reaching into the very core of her magic, Emma felt it surge from her palms, the white light absorbed by the mass of hair, spreading all through Gothel’s body.

The former nymph screamed, her whole body thrashing, but Emma held on, letting her magic flow until Gothel went limp in her arms, momentarily paralyzed in a stunned state.

The gods Gothel prayed and that nature she’d devastated so thoroughly didn’t have mercy on her, for they let her mind stay alert, awake, swimming in the terror that the knowledge of her condition brought.

Had she had even just an ounce of regret, she couldn’t have even spent a tear, nor couldn’t have she closed her eyes or screamed when Death showed her face and kissed her on frozen lips to steal her last breath as the portal closed around her, hugging her for a moment before shear through her body, severing it in two.

Emma sucked in a disgusted breath, the stench the inhalation brought didn’t help the nausea clawing at her throat.

She looked down at what was left of Gothel’s body just in time to see it turn into infertile dirt, so black it became a stain on the wet brown ground.

Lifting her gaze away from such a macabre spectacle, Emma took in her surroundings. Horror dawned on her: the space in between that Gothel had created was a perfect replica of her lair, of the dying forest full of trees Emma now knew had once been witches. Her heart beat painfully at the thought that maybe Priscilla could be there, too.

Tears pooled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. Grace didn’t even get to say goodbye to her own mother, and who knew how many other children and spouses and parents and friends never could.

Sweeping the wetness off her face, Emma whirled around, searching for the place where Killian was held prisoner, trying not to worry about how long it would take the others to reopen the portal again. If Liam can’t do that, we’re both going to die in here.

Her eyes settled on him before her mind could even begin to wrap around what she was seeing, and an anguished scream bubbled up her throat.

Chained to the big tree at the center of the dead garden, was the bruised, bloody, battered form of Killian.

More tears escaped their prison as she rushed to him, taking in every bruise, burnt, cut. She fell on her knees in front of him, right between his splayed legs. One knee had been broken, though it was probable that the leg had multiple fractures. His black jeans were ripped or were glued to burnt flash. Emma almost gagged at that.

His leather jacket, the same jacket she’d worn on the way home because he truly was a gentleman, was burnt and covered in blood, so ruined she could even smell the smoke left from a recent fire.

And his face, oh, his beautiful, beautiful face.

One eye was swollen shut, clearly the aim of multiple beatings; a cut ran along his right cheek, just beneath his eye, while his lip had been split open various times upon remargination. Bruises marred his once pale complexion, which now was a sickening yellow, not to mention his eyes and cheeks were hollow, clearly because of starvation.

With trembling hands, Emma brushed blood-matted hair away from his forehead. «Killian,» she whispered, «Killian, it’s Emma, I’m here.»

She only got a faint grunt in response, at which she rushed to break his chains with the aid of her magic. Thankfully, they didn’t require much to be undone, she couldn’t just lose time. She had to keep Killian alive, and without a thorough exam she couldn’t intervene on his wounds, as much as she wanted to.

«Killian...» she tried again, gentle fingers bringing his numb arms to rest at his sides before she reached up to cup his face almost reverently.

He blinked slowly, his only good eye now staring at her through a narrowed eyelid. The blue she’d looked into that night was duller, and it took a bit for him to focus on her, but once he did, a strange relief filled him before panic settled in.

«Shhh, Killian, it’s over!» Emma wondered how many times they’d tricked him into a false sense of peace before striking him again. They will fucking pay. «It’s me, Killian, it’s Emma, your swan.»

His tense body took several minutes to relax, but once he did, he croaked out: «Swan?»

More tears pooled in her eyes as she nodded. «Yes. Your brother asked me… well, it’s a long story. But you’re safe, Killian. It’s over.»

Hesitantly, Killian nodded, probably not believing her completely, and honestly, who would blame him? He stayed silent for a few minutes, Emma stroking his undamaged knee, too scared of moving from her crouched position and to caress him in any other place.

Clearing his throat, Killian drew her attention back to his face, where a crooked smile had broken his lip once again. «I’m sorry I didn’t call you. As you can see, I’ve been detained.»

Emma huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. Without her realizing it, her arms wound around his neck, gently, and she burrowed her face in the ruined leather. «You’re an idiot.»

«Apparently, they’ve established I’m your idiot, so you’ll have to bear with me for a long while,» he murmured in a hoarse voice, nosing her hair and inhaling deeply.

Emma frowned. Was he rambling some nonsense? She was about to ask him what he meant when the swirling sound of a portal opening behind her robbed her of words and answers.

She was supposed to let him go, to let the others help, but she didn’t let Killian go, not even when the others helped her drag him out of the portal into the real world.

Emma just hoped said world wouldn’t come crumbling down on her and break a heart that wasn’t hers anymore.

[kiribaku-queen]

Can I request a Nishinoya Yuu x Reader from America where Nishinoya actually meets our reader as she works as a florist that her grandmother owns and from that day forth he wants to get to know her much more by visiting each day after practice until he finds out that she won’t actually be staying for long :( Even then when he goes to confess his feelings he’s too late.

Tulips

Pairing: Nishinoya x reader

Fluff, Angst

Word count: 3.4K 

A/N: Uhm... I’m OVERWHELMED by how much love and support I got from that Oikawa request????? Like thank you so fucking much! Anon picked a good request. This is another long one but let me tell you! I looooved this request and I had so much fun writing it! The ending is really my favorite part and I hope I fulfilled this request to your liking. Anon please let me know what you think and I appreciate all of your comments!

Flowers were the epitome of romance. On any special occasion, flowers are always bought to show a loved one that they are thought of and that they are special. They were hard to maintain and sure, they might die easily, but the symbol of love was only meant to live for short time. That’s what makes it beautiful. That’s why people come back for more. That’s why it’s treasured more carefully.

It’s no secret that the Karasuno boys were head over heels over their manager. And it was no surprise that two specific people would die for her. But there was one person that wanted to absolutely woo the heck out of Kiyoko. And that was Tanaka. But Tanaka was an idiot. He didn’t know how to woo a girl. He didn’t know the first thing to impressing a woman. He stared at the local florist shop, completely spaced out and overwhelmed. Thank god his best friend was there to hype him up. Nishinoya also didn’t know the first thing to impressing women. But he was there for moral support.

“Are you seriously stressing over flowers?” Nishinoya poked fun at the bald who was practically shaking in his feet.

“They have to be perfect,” he stressed. But Nishinoya paid no mind to mind and walked in the shop without a second thought.

“How hard can it be? They’re just flowers,” he brushes it off. And soon as he steps in the store, the small bell rang, indicating that someone had walked in.

“Welcome!” a girl’s voice greets them. Nishinoya turns to that direction and was about to wave back in response until his smile drops and he is suddenly frozen in place. His eyes saw one person and one person alone.

You. You were standing at the cash register with the widest and cheekiest smile you could muster. Your eyes disappeared from how wide you were smiling. You were dressed in a floral, pink dress that flowed down your body like it was made for you. Nishinoya was starstuck. He could feel the rush of emotions coming up from the bottom of his feet all the way to way past his head. The moment was ruined when Tanaka bumped into his back, causing both of them to groan.

“Why did you stop all of a sudden?” Tanaka yelled, pushing him forward so that he, too, could enter the shop.

“None of your business!” Noya yelled back and walked away from him, confusing the boy. But he brushed it aside and walked with him. He wasn’t even paying attention to the lovestruck boy. He was lovestruck himself and he was on a mission.

While Tanaka was over in one corner picking out different flowers and putting them together to see if it looks good, Nishinoya was facing the direction you were at, acting like he was interested in a flower. When really? He was staring at you the entire time. There was just something about you that drew him to you. That just mesmerized him.

“Oi, Noya. What do you think of these?” Tanaka held up a poorly arranged bouquet, feeling all proud with his creation. When he saw that his friend wasn’t even paying attention to him, he was about to knock some sense into him. But then he noticed that his friend was looking at something. Or someone. Tanaka leaned closer, almost to Nishinoya’s level and scanned his eyes to where he was looking.

“Watcha looking at,” Tanaka whispered straight into Noya’s near, scaring the crap out of him.

“I was… looking at the flower,” Noya lied, picking up the flower that he was messing with that just to happened to now be ruined because of him. Yeah, he wasn’t falling for that one. Tanaka squinted his eyes and looking over the smaller one.

“A girl, huh?” Tanaka gave him a sleazy smile and bumped him with his elbow a few times.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“NUH-UH!”

“YEAH-HUH!”

“Uhm, can I help you guys?” both boys spun around to see you looking shyly at them. Noya swore his heart just leaped out of his chest. And he would have fallen over if it wasn’t for Tanaka keeping him steady.

“Yeah, I want to buy flowers to impress this girl. But I don’t think I’m doing a great job,” Tanaka says after Noya refuses to say anything. That’s because he was so distracted looking at your pretty face. When he hears you laugh for the first time because you saw Tanaka’s failed attempt at making a bouquet, it was like angelic music in his hears. He wanted to hear more.

“We have some premade bouquets in the front if that’s easier for you. But if you want to make your own, I can help you make one,” you offered. Noya tilted his head. Your voice was also like music to his ears, but something about the way you talked was different. And he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The boys followed you around the shop because Tanaka insisted that he wanted to make his own. And he was trying to do his friend a favor by being by your side a little longer. You and Tanaka were making great conversation and Noya was standing in the back wanting to jump in, but didn’t have the courage to. He’s never nervous. He thought he had great game and could flirt with any girl he sees. But you were exactly his ideal type. The type of girl he dreams about every night. You were real and standing right in front of him. So why couldn’t he get the courage to speak to you?

“I’ve been wondering for a while, you’re not from here are you?” Tanaka blurts out and Noya freaks! You don’t ask people that! But you didn’t mind it one bit.

“I’m actually from America,” you replied with that lovable smile.

“Woah, but your Japanese is so good!” Tanaka complimented, causing you to flush red. Noya pouted. You were blushing at Tanaka. And not him. He wanted to be the one you were blushing at.

“Thank you, but my Japanese still needs a little work,” you say, wrapping up the flowers Tanaka picked out. “I need more practice, but I don’t have anyone to talk to beside customers.”

“I can practice with you!” Nishinoya shouts out, a little too enthusiastically. You look at him, wide eyed. And Tanaka just feels proud that his boy finally has the balls to speak up. You looked surprised at first but then your eyes and lips curl up to show that excitement you were bubbling up.

“Really?” you lean forward towards the shorter one, eyes pleading that he wasn’t joking. But now you were closer than you’ve ever been and he was blushing like crazy. All he could muster to do was nod his head with confidence and you exploded with happiness!

“Yes!” you cheered for yourself. And Nishinoya swore that was the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

Tanaka already got checked out and paid for all his stuff but now was waiting on his friend. Ever since he spoke out like that, you two were having full blown conversations. It was like you two were in your own world, talking about this and that. His hobbies. Your hobbies. What your favorite color was and vice versa. Tanaka felt like he was third-wheeling all of a sudden. But he smiled when he saw how happy his friend looked and knew that he couldn’t ruin such a rare moment.

You and Nishinoya could talk for hours. You didn’t feel like strangers that just met. Talking with him felt so comfortable and normal. So much that you weren’t even shy about your accent or if you were saying sentences correctly. It just flowed out on its own. You wish it could go on for another couple of hours, but before you knew it, shop was already at closing time. Unfortunately, you two had to say your goodbyes. Noya didn’t want to leave just yet. There were so many things he wanted to talk to you about still. There was always tomorrow, he thought. As he left the shop, he so happened to glimpse at one of the flyers on the bulletin board. A class for flower arrangement? Sly as a dog, he ripped the flyer down to keep in his pocket for safe keepings.

 It was everyday for the past month. Everyday that Nishinoya would stop by the florist shop after volleyball practice to see you and talk with you. He would even go to the weekly flower arrangement classes that he saw on the flyer. There, he could spend even more time with you and fall even harder for you. Needless to say, you were falling for him too.

The day you two met, it was actually your grandmother who pushed you to go help them. When Nishinoya came through the door, you were starstruck. You knew Japanese men attractive but this guy was too attractive. For a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. That’s how breathtaking he was. But you were at work. Professionalism. That’s a thing. But even though you had a job to do, you kept looking in his direction just to see those sparkling eyes and dazzling smile. Your grandmother noticed that you were distracted and nudged you in their direction.

“Why don’t you help those gentlemen over there,” your grandmother suggested, leaving you to become flustered.

“Granny, it doesn’t look like they need any help. How could I help them? I can’t speak Japanese,” you tried to make an excuse. But it wasn’t working on granny.

“Oh, stop. You’ve helped plenty of customers. What’s a couple more?” she says and pushes you in their direction. You grab on tight to the sides of your dress and look back. Your granny was watching you, urging you to keep going. With a deep breath to calm your nerves, you made your way to the couple that was arguing.

You thought that was going to be the one and only time you were going to see him. But you were wrong. You saw him many times. Every day actually. You were even surprised when he showed up to your flower arrangement classes. Granny could see the pure excitement look in your eyes every time he showed up. And how you were talking nonstop to this young, volleyball player. She felt young love in the air. She was so happy for you, but sad at the same time because you haven’t told him yet. The time was getting closer. But she was sure that you would figure it out on your own.

“Noya,” you got comfortable calling him by his nickname. At first, it was very awkward, but he got you to say it after much persuasion. You pulled up a stool and motioned for him to sit down. “Can you help me style this bouquet?” you asked and he kindly accepted.

“What’s the theme today?” he asked, plopping down in the stool next to you. Then, he scooted even closer to you, making you tense up at the sudden closeness.

“Uhm, h-how about, uhm…” you stuttered, your brain shutting off because now you got a whiff of his cologne and god, does he smell good.  Noya notices that you stopped and pays even more attention to you, his gaze now curiously looking at you. Please stop looking at me, you thought. He’s just making your brain go haywire.

“S-Summer!” you blurted out. Now that was embarrassing. Your face becomes hot under his continuous gaze but he doesn’t laugh at you. Instead, he gives you an encouraging smile and nods his head in understanding.

“Summer! It’s really hot outside. If we make a good enough bouquet, we can put them outside to attract more customers!” Nishinoya said very enthusiastically. His enthusiasm about promoting your granny’s shop makes you admire him even more. You pursed your lips together in a shy, side smile and hummed in agreeance.

Noya was collecting pink, yellow, and white flowers while you were cutting up some leaves and stems to fill up the empty spaces. And you arranged everything into a style that you could both agree on. Although, there were some disagreements here and there but it was in all fun. When you were finished, you stepped back to look at the finished product. But it looked like something was missing.

“How’s it lookin’?” Noya asked, also getting back to look at what they created. His pointer finger and thumb met his chin in a thinking position, like he also thought that it was missing something.

“It’s pretty, but it could use something else,” you comment seriously. Now this was really bothering you. What was it missing? Then the idea popped up like magic. You looked at the pile of leftover flowers and picked up a white rose that was there. Like you shared the same brain, Nishinoya went for the same one and your hands brushed against one another. The moment your hands touched, you both stood still and your eyes looked up to meet each other. Both were wide with shock and a deep, red blush ran across your cheeks. You pulled back and was about to apologize when Nishinoya grabbed your hand back, pulling you in closer to him than you were before. Your thoughts were traveling at a millions miles per second and you didn’t know what to do in this moment. His eyes were serious and intense. He may not be saying anything but his eyes told you the whole story. He was going to kiss you. Right here. Right now. You let in to your emotions and allowed yourself to fall in his arms. Right before your lips touched, a big, red sign in your mind said STOP! Because you were keeping a secret from him and he needed to know. You placed your hand on his chest, stopping him movements.

“Wait,” you said. It was now or never. You had to do this or else you would feel so guilty.

When you stopped him, he took that as a sign of rejection. He could feel his heart burst with pain, like someone had just stabbed him right there. It was too bold of a move, he thought. He backed away, lowering his head in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he whispered. But you didn’t want him to apologize. You had to tell him something important but before you could, he stood up, grabbed his Karasuno jacket and left without another word. And that was the last time you saw him.

 Nishinoya was heartbroken that night. God, why did he attempt to kiss you?! He didn’t even know if you liked him back and he did that? He must be a real idiot. Sure, he’s been rejected before but why did this one hurt the most? Why wouldn’t the pang in his heart go away?

It’s probably because he didn’t do it right. That has to be it! He was missing all the steps! He had to confess first, then ask you to be his girlfriend, then he could kiss you! He wrote this down in his notebook yet he completely looked past it. You rejected him because he missed the most important step. He had to confess first.

Over the next few days, Noya was working on the most gorgeous bouquet for you. He no longer went to visit you because in the meantime, he was going to other florist shops around town to see what kind of flowers they had in store. Little by little, he was gathering the materials to confess to you. Brown paper so that he can wrap the flowers around nicely with. Greenery because you loved some greenery in bouquets. You would never make one without it. Yellow tulips because you reminded him of the color yellow. It fits your personality just right. Bright, beaming and beautiful. He also did a little digging, and tulips mean confession in flower language. Yeah, he knows that’s going to impress her. And he also bought a yellow bow to tie the whole piece together.

Today was the day. The day to finally do the first step: confess. He got dressed in his best boyfriend clothes. He slicked back half of his hair and left the other half rest on his face. He saw an attractive person pull of his hairstyle so he tried to pull it off. It was okay, but it was too late to change it. He wore his best cologne because he knew that you liked how he smelled. He’s got his shoe game on and bouquet in hand. Time to go.

He was on his way, skipping down the street while whistling a happy tune. He raised the bouquet of flowers in the air, admiring his work because you were for sure going to love it. As he got closer to the shop, his heart starting beating and his stomach was starting to get butterflies.  There was something else he was feeling but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was probably just his nerves getting to him.

The shop was finally in his field of vision. He stopped, turned to the side and looked at his reflection in one of the shop’s window. Fixing his hair and pumping himself up, he was ready to go. He took a few steps towards the shop when he already saw you outside. Perfect. But why did you have a suitcase in hand? And why were you putting it in a van? And why does it look like you’re saying goodbye? He started picking up the pace because it looked like you were going somewhere. But you got in the van and already left. Dammit, he was too late. Still running up to the store, he saw your grandmother still outside the shop, preparing to open up shop.

“Granny!” he greeted her, running out of breath from running so long. She looks stunned to see him.

“Young boy. What are you doing here?” she asks with an alarmed tone.

“Well, I came to give (y/n) this but I saw that she just left. Do you know when she’s going to be back?” he asks, showing your grandmother the flowers that he made. Her eyes soften with sadness. What an innocent boy. The news is going to break his heart.

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” your grandmother pointed out. But Nishinoya was confused.

“Tell me what?”

“She left for the airport. She’s going back to America.” Nishinoya’s smile dropped. He didn’t need to hear the rest of the story. The bouquet of flowers that he worked so hard to create fell to the floor and he was chasing after your car.

No, it has to be a lie. You couldn’t leave. There were so many things he had to tell you. Things he wanted to tell you but never could. So many secrets that he wanted to confess to. Theres never going to be a tomorrow. He ran after your car like he’s never ran in his life. But no matter how fast he ran, you were getting further and further away. But he couldn’t give up. You were the one for him, he just knows it. He screams and he pushes himself to continue running. But he could only go so far. He started to slow down but his mind kept telling him to push through it. That he’ll never get another chance. He’ll never meet another girl like you. A girl who was so down to earth and sweet and intelligent and beautiful and funny and shy and quirky and dramatic and emotional and caring and loving as you. Noya clenched his teeth as tears brimmed his eyes. Then his body couldn’t take it anymore. He gradually came to a stop, frustrating taking over his body. Running took so much energy out of him that he had to take multiple deep breaths for him to breath properly. But he wasn’t done there. He took a deep breath and yelled with all his might.

“(Y/N)!!!!!! I LIKE YOU! I LIKE YOU, I LIKE YOU, I LIKE YOU!” Nishinoya screamed like a madman, hoping that you could hear it and that your van would stop. But that wasn’t the reality. Your car kept driving until it disappeared into the distance.

“Fuck…” Noya said, exhausted, not noticing the tears streaming down his face. “I love you.” He confessed to himself and fell down to his knees. You had already left and he was devastated.

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

Finding Love by the Nile | pharaoh!th x fem!reader

Summary: New Pharaoh Tom is young and handsome. After succeeding to his father at a very young age, he is now respected and loved by everyone – but mostly desired by the all ladies of the Egypt Kingdom. As big as his harem can be, one particular creature catches his attention since long time ago and now, he is determined to make her his.

Pairing: Pharaoh!Tom x Commoner!Reader

Warnings: some cute cocky Tom moments but full fluff power

Word Count: 3485

A/N: I’m such a sucker for Egyptian mythology since forever so I decided to combine this passion with Tom, because I’ve never read something like that(?). And there is actually a Tutankhamun exhibition in Paris (and I wish so hard I could go tbh), that’s how this idea popped up into my brain 😗 So yeah, we’ll see how it goes!! Hope you like it ✨

⚠️ For the sake of the plot with the time period and ethnic details (Antic Egypt), the reader (Y/N) will have black/brunette hair, brown eyes and a little tanned skin. Tom will also be a bit more tanned. Thank you for your understanding!! ⚠️

masterlist

City of Giza, Egypt – c. 1539 BC

(Y/N) walks in the streets of the city center. It’s barely ten in the morning. People mill in the alleys and the merchants don’t hesitate to scream about their good deals in hope to tempt new customers. Children weave in and out the crowd playing tag, as their giggles full of life mix with the regular morning hubbub.

Always so much life, nothing changes.

This is the place where the young (Y/N) was born and grown up, in a kind family in a modest home but where it was good to live in. But nothing goes as we plan them to be. And (Y/N) still remembers that particular day where her destiny changed.

The old pharaoh left the world of the living to join the Other Side of god Osiris. All Egypt cried its deceased king who reigned for almost thirty years. And all Egypt got surprised to see a twelve-year old boy announced as his heir. His only child. When the boy was officially proclaimed as Pharaoh of the Egypt Kingdom, the population got to finally discover the face of its new ruler. So young but already with a disconcerting beauty. Wild brown hair due to ridiculous curls, but that seemed weirdly soft to touch. Big brown eyes so deep and sharp but warm at the same time. Him and (Y/N) were the same age at the time. She couldn’t stop but stare at him with marvel and astonishment. Both their worlds were different: the rich sovereign family on one side and the servant people on the other. But that didn’t stop the aforesaid people to cheer and honor their new king chosen by the Gods. And (Y/N) did the same.

Then time flew by and (Y/N) is now eighteen. Long and thick brunette hair cascades on her back, framing a luscious body as well as her gorgeous visage, with hazelnut eyes and soft lips. Stride across the streets of the city, on a market day, is one of her favorite hobbies. It is nearly impossible for her to miss this day, unless if her father needs some help for work.

‘(Y/N)!!’ As she hears her name, she turns her head toward the voice.

‘Oh, hi Nana! How are you?’ Asks (Y/N) with a warm smile.

It is “Nana”, as casually named, the old neighbor lady next to (Y/N)’s household. She is like a second grandmother to her and they truly are fond of each other. (Y/N) couldn’t miss an occasion to pay her a visit.

‘Good, my child, thank you. I bumped into you father while going out and he asked me to tell you, if I saw you, to join him in front of the bridge outside the city.’

Oh. (Y/N) knows more than well what that means.

‘Your father is making more and more return trips to the Royal Palace. It seems like the Pharaoh appreciates his fabrics a lot!’ Laughs Nana.

The Pharaoh. Just talking about it makes (Y/N) let out a big sigh. She is not the only one that grown up, the young Pharaoh from six years ago back then has also changed. Quite a lot.

(Y/N) observed his evolution during several visits to the Palace. Born in a modest family of linen farmers since decades, the young lady grown between fields and weavers and was determined to carry on the traditions. Everyone liked their textiles made of linen, including the royal family who put its trust in (Y/N)’s father. As soon as she was able to work (quite early), her father brought her with him to the Pharaoh’s Palace to deliver and propose new textiles. Of course she always stayed behind to let her father handle the family business, but she took advantage of it to observe the new “little king”, – as some people called him at first –, at any occasion. His mother and close advisers were always in sight to guide him at the beginning of his reign.

Still in power nowadays, he is now known as the young and handsome eighteen-year old Pharaoh idolized by all the country. Besides getting more self-confidence, he doesn’t stop and rush around like a madman to develop Egypt. And the people respect him for that matter. But what noticed (Y/N) over the years was, in addition to all that, that he became a true charmer. More like a lady-killer, in fact. He knew that. ‘The Pharaoh is so handsome!’, ‘He is more and more beautiful!’, ‘Did you see his muscles?’, ‘He must be blessed by Ra, God of the Sun!’ All the time. Any woman falls in love with him and, without anyone noticing well not really but anyway, the young Pharaoh created his own harem. Of course, like he would care. (Y/N) noticed with great regret even if she will never admit it out loud the number of young ladies increasing each time she visited the Royal Palace with her father. One even more beautiful than the other, wearing dresses too much fitted – probably created with the linen of her family – and some black kohl around the eyes, they were free to go around the Palace as they wish. But where (Y/N) could see them endlessly was next of him. All the damn time. This is what people call jealousy.

(Y/N) sighs again thinking about this all over again. She couldn’t stop, this feeling is stronger that she imagines. But it is time for her to accept her fated destiny…

‘Thanks Nana, I will go find him’ Replies finally (Y/N) while taking the granny in her arms for a hug, ‘And you, be careful at the market, okay? I’ll see you this evening!’ She then takes her leave and starts walking to the bridge, while waving to Nana on her way.

After a few minutes she catches sigh of her father who is rushing to reorganize some textiles in his barrow. (Y/N) speeds up to help him.

‘I’m here, father!’

‘Ah, there you are (Y/N)!’ exclaims her father, turning towards his daughter’s voice, smiling. ‘I was checking if I took all the textiles to show to the Pharaoh. There we go. Everything is ready, we can go.’

Both of them set off and cross the bridge heading to the Royal Palace. It is around twenty minutes walk on the other side of the river. This is the perfect time for father and daughter to chat together about anything. The Palace is located in the South of Giza by the Nile. The air is hot, as usual, but walking by the water creates a fresh breeze that lightens their steps.

‘I see you’re wearing the new dress you made yourself yesterday’ notices her father, a proud smile showing.

The dress worn by (Y/N) is her own creation. Her mother taught her at a young age how to weave textile to then sew it and create costumes, and (Y/N) took a great liking in it. Today she wears a straight mid-length dress in cream-colored linen she tinted, with the collar and straps sewed in big stripes of pearls. The bottom of it is embellished with some patterns of Isis’ feathers. Her feet are covered in strappy sandals in dark leather.

‘You really are talented, sweetheart. I am so proud of you’ continues her father. He adores his daughter more than anything in the world, and nothing could make him happier than seeing her walk on his steps. He is sure she will accomplish great things in the future.

‘Thank you, father’ smiles (Y/N), ‘Mother also helped me a lot with the pearls.’

‘You are both talented and beautiful women.’

A peaceful silent takes place in the discussion. Both of them were all smiles and little by little, the Royal Palace is appearing in the arid horizon. (Y/N)’s thoughts start to turn upside down again, her throat is dry, her hands sweaty and an uneasy feeling begins to grow in her stomach. For some time now, it was the same. A sort of odd stress that she felt as soon as she was near the Pharaoh’s Royal Palace. The Pharaoh.

‘Your mother and I combined two types of linen to create a new type of textile. I wonder if it will be to the Pharaoh’s liking.’

Everything goes blank around her and her father’s words wanders in the air. Could I appeal to the Pharaoh? That’s impossible… (Y/N) never spoke directly to the Pharaoh, or maybe if she had to present or give some information about a textile. She just assisted her father in his task so she couldn’t imagine getting herself noticed or, even worst, being seen as someone disrespectful to the royal family. And ruin all her father’s business.

But the Pharaoh has, in fact, an intriguing personality. (Y/N) could sometimes feel his eyes on her when she was displaying textiles, while her father kept explaining all the details and features. Or he would just call her and ask her to come closer to “see the textiles better”. Of course it was not the textiles he was looking at.

‘(Y/N), we are here.’

As waking up in the middle of a dream, (Y/N) gets a grip of herself and they in fact arrived. She can’t even remember passing near the guards at the entrance.

Come on, (Y/N). Breath in…. And out…

Her father put the barrow next to the entrance archway that leads to the throne room. He picks some textiles, keeps them under his arm and starts to walk inside the Palace.

‘Father, I err… I think I will stay outside a bit. I-I got a bit hot when walking so I will join you… A bit later…’ mumbles (Y/N) while playing with her thumbs.

‘Are you sure? Do you want me to ask some water to the Phara-‘

‘No! no no no, don’t worry, father… R-Really, I just need to rest a little’ insists (Y/N), showing him a begging look.

‘If you insist, sweetheart… Sit in a shade place and do not hesitate to ask if you need something. You can join me when you feel better’ finishes her father slightly worried, but still left a kiss on her forehead. Deciding not to insist on it, he enters the Palace before glancing one last time at (Y/N) who, to reassure him, smiles and waves at him to go.

Finally alone, (Y/N) moves the barrow and places it in the shade of a jasmine tree. She decides to sit down on the sandy ground, back against the open side of the barrow and head lying of some textiles that make great pillows. She closes her eyes and empties her mind. The jasmine above her leaves a delicate perfume in the air, big palm trees swing there leafs with the wind and some birds sing in the distance. So calm. The breeze of the Nile is still refreshing the air, to (Y/N)’s pleasure. This oasis is a true haven of peace and nobody here to disturb her.

‘At least I will not see him today…’

‘I hope you’re not talking about me?’

(Y/N) jumps and lets out a squeal. She then brutally stops in her tracks of standing up because she loses her balance and lands with a chaotic “BOOM” in the middle of textiles in the barrow. And she hears that same voice chuckling at her. Its seems kind of familiar… That’s weird… Wait- When she finds her way out the piles of textiles – careful not to damage something – and is ready to stand up, she can’t believe who is in front of her.

‘I didn’t think you would be that fearful, (Y/N).’

No, that’s not possible…

Well it is?! Right in front of her eyes is the Pharaoh himself. He stands there, towering her, his torso puffed out and hands on his hips. Clearly (Y/N) couldn’t help admiring that true masterpiece. His naked and defined torso displays a pectoral collar made of golden slab, beautify with many gemstones such as lapis lazuli, cornelian and turquoise. His wrists, biceps and ankles adorn very large bracelets that look heavy just by watching them. About his costume, he wears a classic shendyt around his waist, extending to above the knees and hold by embroiled gold and blue belt. His sandals are similar to (Y/N)’s but more sophisticated with gemstones. Finally rests on his head his shiny khepresh on which the uraeus stays in the middle of his forehead like a third eye. (Here is a link of Tom’s outfit -> https://goopics.net/i/WLDoV)

And it is after a few seconds of total blank but mostly of delicious contemplation that (Y/N) comes back to her senses (again) and becomes aware of what is happening. Panicked, she throws herself at the Pharaoh’s feet.

‘I BEG YOUR PARDON, OH MY PHARA-‘

‘Calm down, (Y/N), no need to act like this!’ Laughs heartily the young king while looking at the trembling woman, forehead pressed against the ground. ‘Stand up, please.’

(Y/N) consents to his demand and begins to raise only her head but after another approving look of the Pharaoh, she stands on her two legs shaking the sand off her dress. She doesn’t dare to look at him in the eyes and her heart beats so hard it could jump out of her chest at any moment.

‘You are an emotional woman, (Y/N). Wait. Don’t move and close your eyes.’

What?

The Pharaoh moves his hand closer to (Y/N)’s face so she instinctively shuts her eyes, before she feels fingers brushing the remaining sand off of her forehand. When they gently slide on her cheek and disappear, she then opens her eyes and flutters her long eyelashes a few times.

‘There you go, you are as gorgeous as before.’

‘I-I, my Pharaoh Tutankha-‘

The aforesaid Tutankhamun interrupts her by putting his index on her plump lips.

‘I already told you to call me “Tom” when we are alone.’ Another quirkiness of his. ‘And please forget about “my king”, “my Pharaoh” and other honorific titles, it makes me feel so much older than I look like…’ whines “Tom”.

He is still a child.

‘… As you wish, “Tom”’ answers (Y/N) with a simple but humble nod, smiling. Then she asks ‘My father is already inside the Palace to display our textiles, shouldn’t you be there?’

‘I told Mother to do the job today because I wanted to get some fresh air…’ He sigh before adding ‘… At least I got the opportunity to be in your company.’

And here is the smooth Pharaoh again.

‘I’m sure your concubines would appreciate your presence even more if you join them…’

‘Pff, they are not really useful to me besides-‘

‘With all due respect, Tom, these kind of details don’t concern me. At all’ suddenly interrupts (Y/N), looking away with displeasing eyes just by the thought of him being… Intimate with ALL these DIFFERENT women.

Stay calm (Y/N), don’t lose it.

There is a heavy silence between them and Tom doesn’t waste time to break it. ‘Excuse me, (Y/N)… It didn’t mean to broach this subject…’ He corrects himself while scratching the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward and calling himself stupid in his head. And that is when (Y/N) could notice some strands of hair poking out his headgear. In fact she also notes that its way too forward on his forehead.

‘If you will allow me, Tom…’ She steps closer, stretching her arms out to finally grab his headgear between her head. ‘Your khepresh moved… I will arrange it.” And (Y/N) replaces it the right way. She decides not to mention about the adorable rebellious hair, choosing to gaze at them when he will not look.

Unconsciously, (Y/N)’s hands leave Tom’s headgear to slide and slowly caress his face, ending their way on his jawline.

Her hands are soft for a weaver… So soft, thoughts Tom, lost in his countless dreams and fantasies.

‘Thank you, (Y/N).’

When (Y/N) is aware of her action, she hurries to take away her hands but the young Pharaoh is faster and catches them back, his grasp firm but at the same time gentle.

‘These hands can create many beautiful textiles… I wonder what other wonderful things they could do for me…’

He brings her hands up to leave kisses on them. (Y/N)’s cheeks turn as red as she got sunburned. His eyes oh my his eyesstare deep in her soul, full of such desire that (Y/N) couldn’t think of something to say. She is like hypnotized, captivated by this man’s handsome figure and unctuous words.

‘C-Come on, Tom… Don’t say-’

‘Yes (Y/N), I insist… You are much more precious to me than you can imagine…’

Hands intertwined, they never look away. They stare hungrily at each other, like they could devour a one in front of them with the eyes. The only sound heard is the ibis flying over the gigantic garden to go to the Nile. How could (Y/N) even think about THE Pharaoh of Egypt himself being so interested in her, daughter of traders-weavers? And yet, Tom couldn’t look away or even think about doing so.

Is this a sign from Hathor, Goddess of love?

‘Follow me (Y/N), let’s have a walk around the oasis’ proposes Tom and before waiting for any answer, he drags her with him and goes down the stairs that leads to the Palace gardens. (Y/N) doesn’t even protest, she already knows that nothing can stop the young Pharaoh when he has an idea in mind.

Once they arrive in the oasis – that is a private place only reserved to the Royal Family – and walk for a bit, they stop in front of a huge pond liven up with tones of aquatic plants, fishes and birds. Rows of acacia and jasmine trees surround it, as if to hide the pond from curious eyes, but some sunrays continue to reflect on the clear water coming from the Nile nearby.

Astonished, (Y/N) gets close to the pond, full of life, while slowly letting loose on Tom’s grasp. He lets her go without a word and admires her in a loving way. He wishes he could keep this delightful image engraved in his mind until he dies: this woman with a goddess’ aura, the sun warming her impeccable skin and her hair dancing like her dress in rhythm with the wind and the leafs.

I want to make her mine.

Then (Y/N) turns and calls out to the Pharaoh ‘Tom, come see how beautiful the fishes are!’

In a snap (don’t you dare laugh at that word), the young king joins her at the water’s edge. He perfectly knows all species in the oasis, fishes included, but every second is a chance to be with the one he secretly loves so much. Once next to (Y/N), Tom wraps an arm around her hips and embraces her. Both of them, one head laying on the other, admire the exotic fishes shaking and splashing everywhere in the pond.

But in reality Tom and (Y/N) look at their reflection in the water. Both reflections, standing together, bodies interlacing lovingly.

And in a whisper Tom takes his chance ‘(Y/N), please, be my Queen.’

(Y/N) bits the inside of her cheek because it is like her dreams comes true, little by little but still is.

And stopping herself from laughing she answers ‘First, you get rid of the tones of kohl around your eyes and then of all your harem.’

‘Isn’t it more important to start with the girls and then the kohl?’

And (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself anymore and lets out a heartily laugh. Her answer is silly, his answer is also silly. But this entire situation is even sillier that (Y/N) could imagine. And Tom of course joins her and laughs.

‘No, first the kohl because there is too much of it and because I like looking at your eyes all natural.’

‘You’re right. Actually this thing is such a pain that my eyes get irritated at the end of the day’ huffs Tom blinking exaggeratedly his eyes at (Y/N) while approaching his face of hers, looking like a crazy man. (Y/N) doesn’t stop to laugh at him. And she impresses herself and dares to leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, which gets him by surprise.

‘And then I want those girls out of here, and after we can discuss about this Queen thing’ murmurs (Y/N) still close to his lips.

‘Don’t tempt me (Y/N), I might get a bit too excited and do all that just for you’ adds seductively Tom brushing his lips against hers, while smirking.

‘Aren’t you the Pharaoh?’

‘I sure am the Pharaoh of Egypt, love…’

And all of the sudden Tom lifts (Y/N), making her leave her a surprised squeal, and carries her bride style. Now he can’t hold anymore and kisses her straight on the lips and they both savor this moment.

‘… And I will show you now.’

🏷 Permanent tag list & mutuals 💖 (get notified)

@allegra-writes @tom-holland-is-spiderman @detroitbydark @blissfulparker @farfromhaz @xxtomxo @worldoftom @charismas-world  @stiles-banshees​ @americaxo17 @zabdisamor​ @princezzariel @mcuassemble @thatweirdomimic @juliebean247​ @harryhollandwhore @spiderbibby @intiate03 @himynameishooman @bookworm06​ @flowerboyparker @miraclesoflove​ @eridanuswave​ @jillanaholland @mendes-marvel @biebsmylife95​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @tsh-darling​ @popbubblegumpop​ @fanficscuziranout​

🏷 Alternative universes’ imagines 💖 (get notified)

@iamsoprofessional​ @bloodyscarlet​

[wrexidentalinsurance]

Been thinking about the Batarians.

•have lots of eyes. Wonder what their vision is like.

•their skin looks soft? Like old granny washing dishes a lot type soft. This is weird bc Batarians. Or is it weird? Maybe it's not and they like their skin soft. Maybe they like being touched. Maybe they have an equivalent to cocoa butter in their planet and maintain skin healthcare regimens to stay moist.

•seem religious

•might be a stretch for Elysium Heroes and Torfan Butchers as well as Council Space and everyone who hates slavery and isn't a bigot because they're straight up written to be the asshole race whose caste system beliefs include enslaving other individuals by force and even sedating biotic slaves with red sand so they're too fucked up to fight back. Also they're responsible for the indoctrination of the research team that consequently destroys their planet because they hid the discovery of the Leviathan. They have committed hundreds of atrocities and caused hundreds of deaths. Always the terrorist. Always the bad alien guys.

•give me a soft Batarian child, who develops a fetish for weird human stuff like fluffy angora sweaters and fuzzy slippers and shows up on social media with a cat like creature on their shoulder, drinking a hot cup of whatever and flashes deuces because they hate the hegemony. Shows up in public with 3 sets of sunglasses, custom made for their facial structure. Maybe one that likes old technologies and has some of the weirdest Asari, Turian, Drell creations. Maybe they like space ships. Give me a Batarian rebel child who is infatuated with a paragon Shepard and the Crew bc of how the deal with Balak went down.

I don't know. It's just a thought.