#I’m not the best with backgrounds but this will do

[solxamber]

hii i'm here for the holiday event ! (and to all your works too ofc)

[ Pomefiore, 6, fluff/comedy ]

happy holidays to you btw!! 🫶 either genre is fine if only one is allowed -

i got so excited when i saw pomefiore

Unfiltered || Vil Schoenheit

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "Say that again" ; Genre: Comedy

Vil was always poised, elegant, and in control of every situation. Except, apparently, when sedated.

You sat beside him in his private recovery room, watching as the usually composed Pomefiore housewarden mumbled nonsense with a wad of gauze stuffed in his cheek. His flawless hair was slightly askew, and his glassy eyes blinked up at you with uncharacteristic awe.

“You’re so… so pretty,” he slurred, reaching out to gently pat your face like you were a particularly mesmerizing painting.

You stifled a laugh, catching his hand. “Thanks, Vil. How are you feeling?”

“Like… like a cloud,” he muttered, frowning. “A very beautiful cloud. Not like Epel. Epel’s a mean little apple.”

From the corner, Epel huffed indignantly. “I’m literally right here.”

“Shh,” Vil whispered, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m talking to my beloved.”

Your cheeks flushed as Epel snorted and promptly decided this was the best day of his life. “Vil, you’re drugged out of your mind. You’re going to regret this later.”

Vil’s face morphed into something resembling horror. “Regret? No. Never. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow, smirking. “Care to say that again?”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world.

You leaned closer, voice dripping with playful teasing. “Say it one more time for the people in the back?”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said earnestly, reaching up to hold your face between his hands. His fingers squished your cheeks, making you look like a fish.

Epel choked on laughter, scrambling for his phone. “I gotta record this.”

“Shut up, Epel,” you hissed, batting his phone away. “Vil, you’re gonna make me cry over here.”

“I love you,” Vil said suddenly, his expression somehow both dreamy and sincere.

Your heart skipped a beat. “I… I love you too.”

“Say it again,” he demanded, his eyes wide and glassy.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“Vil—”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, glancing at Epel, who looked like he was about to combust from holding in laughter. “I love you, Vil.”

“Good.” He gave a sleepy smile and promptly passed out, head lolling to the side.

The next day, when Vil was back to his usual, regal self, you wasted no time.

“So,” you began, arms crossed as you leaned against the vanity in his room. “Do you remember anything about yesterday?”

“Of course,” Vil said coolly, dabbing at his lip balm. “I behaved with my usual grace, even under anesthesia.”

“Oh, really?” Your smirk widened. “Because I distinctly remember you calling me the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Vil froze, his hand hovering mid-air. “...Did I?”

“And making me say ‘I love you’ five times before you passed out.”

The lip balm clattered to the counter. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” You whipped out your phone and hit play. The recording was loud and clear: “Say it again. Say it again. One more time.”

Epel’s laugh could be heard faintly in the background.

Vil buried his face in his hands. “This is a nightmare.”

“Don’t worry,” you cooed, patting his shoulder. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me too, Vil.”

“...Say that again,” he muttered, his ears turning red.

“Nice try.”

Masterlist

[momolady]

Kirilka the Orc

𝔉𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔩𝔢 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔵 𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔒𝔯𝔠

ℜ𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩𝔱���� - 𝔄𝔭𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔶 - ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔶 𝔅𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔢𝔡 𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔵𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔱𝔶 - 𝔄𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 ℜ𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢

When your brother married Tashka, the whole kingdom thought he was insane. What was the future king doing marrying an orc woman? But you knew exactly why he did, because Tashka was exactly what your brother always wanted. Sure, she wasn’t the frail princess everyone imagines for someone like your brother, but he never wanted frail.

“Hurry, the baby!” Your brother was fretting while you were doing the best you could to hobble down the hallway. Since you were little you needed leg braces, now you hold a cane to keep steady.

“Pasha! I am doing the best I can!” You tried to comfort him, after all his first baby was just born a few short days ago. The birth had been hard, but you had studied and trained for all that, helping Tashka through the difficult birth. Now, Pasha was worried about the state of his daughter and wife.

“Is he fussing at you?” Tashka asked softly as you went into the room. “I told him not to worry! I just had a simple question.” She tsked while gazing back down at the baby.

“You said-” Before Pasha could finish, both Tashka and you quietly shushed him.

“What’s the matter Tashka?” You set your cane aside and took your bag from Pasha. “Is she feeding okay?”

“Oh yes,” she said proudly, if not a bit sleepily. “But she’s getting these little bumps around her mouth.” She showed off the baby, pale soft green and already plump. Around her mouth was a bit of small red bumps and dried skin. 

You smiled, gently brushing the soft, fawny hair on her head. “Nothing to worry about. Just a bit of drool rash.” You reached back for your bag. “Nothing a little ointment won’t fix.”

Paha had tears in his eyes already.

“I knew it wasn’t anything too bad.” Tashka’s gentle smile was so beautiful, you could tell why Pasha fell for her. “But Pasha and my brother,” she scoffed.

Ah yes! Tashka’s brother, Kirilka. You had run afoul of him since coming home. He didn’t seem quite trusting of your medical background, despite the years of training you had taken. He seemed assured only orc knowledge would be good enough for his sister and brand new niece.

“Firstborns have the ability to make panic occur with the slightest sound,” you say while applying some of the specialty made ointment to the baby’s mouth, making sure to wipe away excess.

“I’ll say,” Tashka chuckled, glancing towards her husband.

Pasha pouted but then broke into a smile as he took his wife into his arms, hugging her while gazing lovingly at their child.

“I’ll go make you a little kit.” You take your cane back in hand. “So you can be better prepared for rashes and the like.”

Tashka sighed, exhausted and relaxed in the same breath. “Thank you. I’m very relieved knowing this little one is getting the best care..”

You puffed up with pride.

“This little one also still needs a name,” Pasha remarked.

“It’ll come to us,” Tashka mused. “I didn’t get my name until I was a month old.”

You rather liked the orc tradition of letting the baby’s name come naturally. You found it much more personable. “Well, I’ll come back later. You three should rest.” 

“Thank you again,” Pasha sighed.

You nodded, leaving the royal bedchamber and heading back out into the hall. Pasha had made you private work quarters down the hall, but it was still quite the long hall. You were nearly down it when Kirilka started walking up it.

“Dammit,” you grumbled to yourself.

“And what were you called for?” Kirilka grumbled. This beast of a man towered over you, casting a dark shadow wherever he went. Growing up on one of the largest farms in the kingdom, probably on this side of the Cobra Strait, he’d grown up a farm boy, rearing animals, tending to fields and working day in and day out. He was built for it, built for a lot of things probably. His long hair was always tied up into a thick, ropelike braid that he kept coiled up into a bun.

“The baby had a little drool rash, nothing awful, nothing even too concerning. I'm going to make a kit of ointments and the like for them now.” You said sternly, if not a little brusk. 

His amber eyes looked you over, taking in the cane then focusing on your own eyes. You knew you weren’t his version of a healer. You dressed prettily, wearing fancy but comfortable dresses you had collected from your travels for education. Compared to him you were a dumpling beside a steak, that probably also irked him.

“What sort of ointments?” He sounded like he was ready to discourage all your ideas.

You sighed. “Look, Kirilka, I know I’m not the healer you want for your sister. But I’m using my education for what it is for and it is taking care of her and that baby. And you, if you should walk into a doorway.”

He sneered, his upper lip curling ever so slightly. “All I asked was what ointments you were planning on using. Orc skin isn’t like human skin.”

“Oh?” you feigned ignorance. “Is it not?”

He scowled.

You stomped your cane in lieu of your foot. “I’ve been trained in such things, you know! And if you must be so nosy, I am making a comfrey mixture.”

His brow raised slightly. “Comfrey?”

“I did train with orcs at the university,” you scoffed. “We shared our knowledge, rather than test one another.” You continued to try and walk ahead, but to your dismay, Kirilka kept following.

“Kirilka, please,” you huffed. “I’m just doing my job.”

“No,” he snarled, stopping you from continuing forward.

Dammit, you thought. This wasn’t what you wanted today. You knew the tension between you and Kirilka had been building, but you didn’t realize he was willing to throw down over it. Maybe you could get in a few good jabs with your cane. You knew you should have accepted your uncle’s offer of a sword cane. 

“I know how people look at my sister here! I know how we are treated amongst your circle. I also know how I look, and if I can use it to protect my sister and niece I-”

Your mouth hung open. “Protect them? From me?” You slapped your hand against your chest. “I adore Tashka! I brought that baby into the world with my own hands, I would die for that child!” Your voice was raising, your blood was boiling. “Even if I didn't, I took an oath to care for people and see after their health. How dare you?” You stomped towards him, clomping down your cane like you were going to take one of his toes. “I love my family, which now includes you unfortunately! I helped convince my father to accept Tashka! Did you know that? I was almost thrown out of the castle! Protect them?”

Kirilka was backing down now, looking frightened.

“Let me work, farm boy!” You snapped and stormed past him, getting to your office and slamming the door shut. You huffed, glaring into the room. “Who does he think he is?”  

After working for a few hours to distract yourself, you came out of your office, a new baby kit prepared and placed into a beautiful tin. You knew how Tashka liked roses, so you had painted the tin with them just for her. 

You knocked on the bedroom door and waited, admiring your handy work on the tin when the door opened. You smiled to greet your brother, but it was Kirilka. Your smile vanished.

“Quiet,” he whispered. “They’re finally asleep.”

“I’ll just leave this with you then,” you grumbled, offering out the tin.

Kirilka took it. “Wait,” he set the tin inside the door then stepped out himself. “I want to apologize.”

You furrowed your brow. “Really?”

He returned the frown as he gently closed the door behind him. “I didn’t realize all you had done for Tashka.”

“You’ve treated me like scum since I got here. Don’t mind me saying I feel the apology comes a little late.” You then rolled your hand in the air. “But go on.”

Kirilka walked you a little further down the hall, away from the bedchamber. “Ever since Tashka became queen, I have heard the most vile things spoken about her. The past two years my head has been full of them, and being in this castle makes them sound like cannons in my head.”

You sighed. “The moment I met Tashka I liked her. Pasha doesn’t fall in love easily, you know. Surrounded by dancers all his life, I never saw his eyes turn once. Not until Tashka.”

Kirilka looked away, pouting.

 You moved to stand in his line of sight. “I stood up for your Tashka against my father. I stood beside her when she was crowned. And I am going to fight for that little girl to be heir. She’ll be queen one day.” You watched him, waiting. “Now what do you say?”

“I’m sorry,” he growled under his breath.

You cupped your hand around your ear. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I. Am. Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. He turned those amber eyes back upon you and huffed. “I misjudged you.”

You nodded in agreement. “That’s right, you did!” A smirk crossed your face. “I’ll forgive you. But that may take time.”

His lip curled and he clicked his teeth. “I get it.”

This was such a good feeling! All this time you wanted to smack him around, now it felt like you’d gotten in the first whack. “But maybe now we can be friends! After all, we’re both the eldest sibling, we should have a lot in common.”

He looked distrustful, eyeing you up and down wondering where the rest of you was.

“That’s right! I came out of the womb first,” you announced proudly, puffing out your chest. “But for health reasons I abdicated my spot to my brother.”

Kirilka’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t even know you were twins.”

“Yes , well, Pasha went on to train in ballet while I read in bed with several illnesses. That can change figures.” You patted your belly. “And hobbling around isn’t the exercise I make it look to be.”

You saw it! He was suppressing a smile!

“I blame it on Pasha sitting on my head in the womb.” You peeked at him again, seeing the corner of his lip curl ever so slightly upwards. “I’ve delivered orc twins, you know?”

“Those are quite rare for us,” he muttered, wiping away any semblance of his previous smile. “How did that go?”

“Very well, my teacher and I together came up with a new method that made the birth easy for the mother and safer for the babies.” You then offered your hand to him. “Since our siblings are asleep, why don’t you and I have tea together?”

He looked unsure, eyes darting away. “I don’t like tea.”

“Then you can eat scones the entire time. Come now, we have a lifetime to deal with one another. The first foot was awful, like mine, but the second foot can be a strong one, like mine.”

He was forcing that smile down hard again, but he took your offered hand, shaking it heartily rather than be delicate. His fingers flexed after touching you. Perhaps he was more used to rougher palms?

He was silent for most of tea, taking sweets and cookies eagerly while you went on and on about your schooling. Afterwards, he made an excuse to leave while you finished the teapot by yourself. 

Over the next few days you passed him in the hall, attempting to make small talk. It took a while, but after a while he began offering more than monosyllabic responses. He was also joining you for tea more often, actually offering you bits and pieces of his life. He had prize cows he loved, bison he raised from birth, and sheep he spent summer nights sleeping beside.

“Where do you harvest your comfrey?” He asked one day, having come into your office with a rather large cut on his palm.

You were cleaning it, using a cloth and a strong alcohol, watching to make sure there was no debris in the cut itself. “I was gifted a plant by a friend of mine at university. I came home and planted it in the garden a few years ago. It’s spread out quite a bit, I have decades worth now.” You were even surprised he came to you with such a wound, but you were glad he did.

“We have large patches of it all around the farm. Our mother loved it,” he murmured.

“Tashka told me she was quite the gardener,” you murmured. You dabbed away some blood and remarked on an old fairytale from your youth. Something about a field mouse and a lion. 

“She loved flowers. Her roses were used during your parents’ wedding. So it’s funny how this all worked out.”

You stilled and looked into his face. The way the light from your small lantern hit his face made him look much handsomer than you were used to seeing. “I didn’t know that.”

He nodded, long lashes falling to his cheek. “They bought every single one she had. I had never seen the farm look so…empty I guess is the word. She worked hard all year to make sure there was enough.”

“Wow.” You were more remarking on how differently he looked, how long his lashes were, how full his lips appeared. You swallowed, trying to hide your blush. “I’ll just put some of said comfrey on here,” you laughed nervously.

“Thanks,” He muttered. 

You bandaged him up, flexing his fingers to make sure nothing was wrong. “There. Should be good as new eventually.” His hand then captured yours, locking his fingers around your own. You looked unsure up at him. “Arm wrestle?” You chuckled.

“Let me thank you.” He pulled you close, closing the gap between you and placing a soft kiss on your lips. Oh, it was heaven! You leaned in, closing your eyes and melting. You then came to your senses and hurriedly pulled back.

“What was that?” You snapped.

Kirilka chuckled. “What do you think?” He focused upon your eyes, freezing you in place with how intense his gaze was. “You impress me. I like a woman who frightens me a little.”

Your stomach flopped. “Oh.”

“You remind me of the ram who guards my sheep. Small, soft, but very ferocious. I’ve seen him take down a mountain lion. I want you to do that to me.”

What was this? Your mind was racing, your heart was trying to keep up with it. Your mouth hung open but you closed it back quickly. “Th-that’s enough out of you!” You stood up quickly. “You should go check on your sister.” Turning around, you tried to ignore him while cleaning up your desk.

“If you’re at all curious, meet me in the garden tonight. Right near your comfrey.” Kirilka got up and left.

You huffed, clutching your chest as the door shut. “Fucking hells! I’ve not been turned on like that before,” you whispered to yourself. You glanced back at the door. “Who the hell does he think he is?”

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖓 𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖔𝖓!

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (01) all i had

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam

masterlist / prev / next

(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...

the wind was howling.

your bag felt heavy on your shoulders as you brisked through the night, flickering street lights as your only source of light. your phone died a while back, but it's fine since you knew every nook and cranny of the route from your workplace back to your aunt's apartment. 

you've had a pretty shitty day so far: customers yelling in your face about things out of your control, your bicycle getting stolen (again) rendering you having to travel back on foot, and on top of that, you have exams coming up this week.

all you could let out was a tired sigh while trying to revise the material under your breath.

just as you're about to turn the knob of the apartment door, looking forward to finally getting some sleep before having to drag yourself to school that starts in a few hours, the door swings open violently and you stumble back, startled. the sight of your aunt gripping the door while holding a broken bottle greets you as she stands there with an unsettling and wild look in her eyes, her tone final.

“get in the car, now.”

sitting in gotham’s police department with the background noise feels distant, everything is incoherent, too much noise, too much light, just too much.

you feel hollow.

can’t wrap your head around the series of events that had just occurred, alternating between gnawing your lips and picking your fingers, the chatter zoned in and out as you just sat there, not knowing what was to come.

you don’t know how long you've sat there while the police were making phone calls and running through their data records of you after taking multiple different samples 2 days ago in order to decide where they should toss you to next. you’ve been placed under watch just so they could make sure there were no complications from the injuries you sustained, practically living in the station. it wasn’t that bad, the GCPD was well-insulated, safe, and you’re given food to eat for free (not that you can taste anything). it’s much better than being left to fend for yourself in the streets.

you know you should be planning on what to do next, but your brain feels like tv static, nothing making sense. you had worked so hard despite the circumstances you were in, tried to make the best out of the shitty cards dealt. you weren’t happy, but you were in control, you had a plan. work hard, save up, get a degree and move the fuck out of this godforsaken city. start over.

staring at the ground, a pair of shoes enters your vision.

“your labs came back, we got your DNA results.”

this was not what you had in mind.

you’ve never been in a car this luxurious before. the man who introduced himself as alfred, the wayne’s family butler, your father's butler, was seated in the front driving to your supposed new home. you stare outside, gaze unfocused, arms cradling your backpack close to your chest - your entire life in it: your school supplies and a few other personal items, while the rest remains at your aunt’s apartment - that is currently taped off by police and under investigation. eyes trained on the passing view outside, you feel bad for alfred who’s tried to strike up conversation to get to know you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to elaborate on your short responses. you hope he doesn’t take it too personally.

before you knew it, the car rolled to a stop outside the wayne manor. grabbing your bag, you trail behind the butler, the feeling of dread suddenly consumes your entire being.

“i do apologize for the absence of master bruce, young miss. i’m certain if he weren’t caught up with this current case, you would've received a personal welcome from your father himself", he gave you an apologetic smile.

you nodded in response, not really processing his words despite the tiny feeling of disappointment felt as you step foot into the grand yet empty manor. your presence a stark contrast to the fancy room you've entered.

however, you do look forward to seeing your new family: your father and siblings that alfred mentioned in brief, insisting for you to get to know them yourself while singing them high praises.

maybe this was the start over you needed. maybe you'll finally know what it's like to be loved.

you should've known then.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

you're tired, so very tired.

you're done.

nothing feels worth it anymore.

you don't have it in you to continue.

feet dangling off the crumbling abandoned building, you feel oddly at peace. everything is quiet. everything feels right, no responsibilities, no burdens, no more. you've decided.

for once in your life, you feel assured, this is the most optimal solution.

for once in your life, you're looking forward to something.

death must be so peaceful, lay buried within the earth, surrounded by silence. no yesterday, no today, no tomorrow. forget time, forgive life.

you'd be no more.

the wind is howling.

you stand up, staring down the steep drop. standing tall, unafraid, certain.

everything was quiet.

you're ready.

you shuffle closer to the edge, one foot hovering off as you will your other foot to do the same, fighting against your body's survival instinct. you're finally doing something for yourself.

"that's a big drop."

you stumble forward in surprise, nearly falling off until a hand grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you back further from the edge. you're stunned speechless, turning to see the source of the whistling voice.

"that's pretty ballsy of you, kid, i gotta admit."

this is embarrassing.

still unable to form any response, you let out a strangled noise in return as he let go of your shirt.

why the hell is one of gotham’s vigilante here.

an uncomfortable silence ensues, you don't know what to say, occasionally glancing up at the masked vigilante while you shifted your weight from one foot to another, feeling awkward.

just as you're about to try and weasel your way out of the situation, he beats you to it.

"nice spot! how'd you even get in?"

he asks casually while stretching and looking around. you don't know what to say.

"it's a still a weekday tomorrow , don't you have school? your parents must be worried you're out here."

your aunt is still waiting for you to return with your half of the pay for the rent. you have an assignment due tomorrow that's worth 10% of your final grade. there's nothing to look forward to.

"...i guess?"

now, you're uncertain, not knowing whether he genuinely didn't understand the implications of your actions or trying to lighten the severity of the situation.

he's uncertain.

he doesn't know how to approach this. he's never had to deal with this before.

you can tell by the strained smile and tensed posture that he also doesn't know what to do. somehow, you appreciate it. the situation is somewhat amusing now that you think about it. one of gotham's most dedicated vigilante standing in an abandoned building trying his best to stop a nobody from ending their insignificant life.

you almost let out a chuckle.

the vigilante bends down to pick up your discarded bag that was tossed to the side, handing it to you. you mumble your thanks, grabbing it and swinging it over your shoulders.

hesitantly, he places his hand on your much smaller frame. his voice warm and soft.

"go home. i'm sure someone is waiting for you."

you've waited for a year.

surrounded by the four walls of your assigned bedroom in the more cold, desolated part in the manor. you didn’t really mind, this arrangement was a blessing in disguise as it turned out, or maybe this arrangement was what turned you into the person you’ve become.

you don’t think you’re a great person, but you weren’t bad either, so you don’t understand why no one in the wayne manor would give you their time of day. sure, you were never reduced to begging for life necessities and having to bust your ass off at some sketchy restaurant working under legal age, while also balancing school work - this was objectively a far better environment for a person to live in compared to when you lived with your aunt. 

but was it wrong to want to be noticed by your own family? against your better judgement, you dared to hope.

you hoped to feel the warmth and care of what being tied by blood could grant. you hoped for an embrace, you hoped for company, you hoped for compassion, you hoped for connection. you hope and hope and hope, all you did was hope, until your memory was mostly filled with what you hoped, until you finally understood you were with them yet you were alone.

you had no place in their life.

just like the day you first arrived, bruce wayne, your father, was always busy. a persona to upkeep in the public eye, an enterprise to maintain, and his children to look after, to be a worthy role model.

but not you, never you.

despite alfred’s effort in trying to arrange for you two to get to know each other in the first week, there was never time. you were trying to wrap your head around the drastic changes that happened, from the procedures of transferring  schools, collecting what little belongings you had from the police station after the investigation, and quitting your job. meanwhile, bruce was still busy chasing leads to his case, determined that he was close to solving whatever it was. it took another week for you to stand in front of bruce’s door, wanting to formally introduce yourself and express your gratitude for taking you in, even if he was legally obligated to. when you finally saw him, you dared to hope. standing in front of you was your father, someone who shared your features. you see him, you see yourself. 

you could never forget the look in his eyes.

it was clear he had no idea who your mother was, but it was fine, you didn’t know her either. your desire to get to know him was not returned. was this what having a father is meant to be like? he couldn’t care less about you. all he did was run you through the ground rules of the house, who to go to if you were to request something, to inform him if you needed anything.

you needed him to look at you.

tim drake was the next person you encountered, your slightly older brother. you hoped that with the proximity in age, it would be easier to connect to him. however, it always seemed like he was preoccupied with something more important, he could not even be bothered to pretend to show interest when you had introduced yourself. you felt small, both in the figurative and literal sense. he was undoubtedly intelligent and talented. you’ve seen the way bruce look at him, actually hold a conversation with him. he was deserving, nothing you could measure to. bruce actually looked at him.

why does nobody look at you?

then you ran into jason todd. to your knowledge, he does not primarily reside within the manor anymore, which would explain why you haven’t really seen him around at all. it doesn’t explain why your first encounter with him was assuming a burglar had snuck in through the window at 3 in the morning. you had nearly dropped your cup of coffee, hearing a brief commentary on how there was another caffeine addict in the house before leaving the kitchen with you still holding your breath in shock. you can’t form a solid opinion on him since you barely see him.

especially damian al ghul, your half-brother. you were excited to have a younger blood sibling, not that the others were any less important to you, but merely for the delusion that blood could bring you together.

in stark contrast, you had met richard grayson, or dick. the ever sweetest and most amazing older brother that any younger sibling would dream to have. you do too, seeing how much of a brother he was to the other members of the house, but not to you.

never to you.

you’d like to blame him for blindly hoping for things to be different, with his empty promises when he accidentally runs into you while on his search for someone else, and small talk when he’s waiting for something. you catch your father’s appreciative glances towards him sometimes, when dick helps out with managing your siblings.

blood meant nothing.

damian was introduced after you were brought in, and his last name was promptly changed into wayne. your encounter was different from the others, him being the only one that sought you out first. again, you had hoped. trying to hide your excitement, you had mistakenly thought he was different from the others, your flesh and blood. 

it’s all the same.

damian had berated your existence, bringing up how you were so unworthy of being a wayne you had yet to receive your father’s last name. you stood there listening to everything he had to say. your flesh and blood.

you admired his strong personality and ability to assert what he wanted. you were complete opposites. it’s no surprise that that’s why he was worthy of the last name.he ended up being the one who had interacted with you the most, even if it was mostly him bullying you. secretly, you held him dear, seeing resemblance between damian and your aunt. he was your flesh and blood.

cassandra cain was yet another sibling you falsely assumed having something in common would bring you two closer. but at this point, you no longer had it in you to put effort in forming a connection with anyone else, worn down by the countless times you’ve been casted aside. 

you remain in the shadows, watching them carry on their daily lives, watched the life you had desperately wanted to be part of but found it impossible. you don’t belong with them, you don’t belong anywhere.

their silence made you feel forgettable.

do you even exist if no one remembers you?

the wind is howling.

and so are the voices.

i don't think im a good story teller since i mostly wrote analytical essays ^^' hopefully it makes sense like who let them (me) cook?? likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

(TAGLIST) lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist :heh:

@confused-they @hoeinthehouse @heartjwonie @strwberryglass

[lazysoulwriter]

A Christmas of Our Own - Paul Mescal.｡･:*˚:✧｡

·̩̩̥͙＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊·̩̩̥͙＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊·̩̩̥͙

The cabin was nestled deep in the snow-covered hills, its stone walls and thatched roof glowing softly in the golden light of the fireplace. Outside, the world was silent, blanketed in white. The only sound was the occasional whisper of the wind through the pines.

Inside, Paul stood by the window, watching the snow fall in slow, mesmerizing swirls. A mug of hot cocoa steamed in his hands, and a faint smile played on his lips.

“I still can’t believe we’re really here,” he said, his voice warm and low.

She turned from where she was placing the final ornaments on their small, modest Christmas tree. Her sweater sleeves were pushed up to her elbows, her cheeks pink from the fire’s heat.

“Just us,” she replied, stepping closer. “No distractions, no cameras, no schedules. It feels… perfect.”

He set the mug down and reached for her, pulling her into his arms. She fit against him as if she’d been made for that very moment. His chin rested lightly on the top of her head as he sighed.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmured. “Our first real Christmas. I’ve never needed anything fancy… just you.”

She leaned back to look up at him, her eyes shining in the firelight. “You have me,” she whispered. “Always.”

The weight of the year seemed to lift as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth. It had been a whirlwind—work, public appearances, stolen moments that always felt too fleeting. But here, in the quiet of the mountains, time stretched. It felt infinite.

“Do you know what I love most about you?” he asked suddenly, his voice thick with emotion.

“What?” she asked, her tone playful but curious.

“Everything.” His hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. “The way you laugh. The way you make me feel like I’m enough, even when I doubt myself. The way you see through all the noise and find the real me. I’ve never known love like this before you.”

Her breath hitched, and she blinked back tears. “Paul,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You make the world brighter. You make me braver. Loving you feels like the best thing I’ll ever do.”

He kissed her then, slow and deep, pouring every unspoken word into the connection. When they pulled apart, her hands lingered on his chest, her fingers tracing the outline of his sweater.

“Let’s make a promise,” she said softly.

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation.

“Every year, no matter what life throws at us, we find a moment like this. Just us. Just love.”

His smile was tender as he nodded. “Deal.”

They spent the rest of the evening wrapped in their own little world. They shared stories, exchanged simple gifts, and danced slowly to Christmas songs that played softly in the background. The tree lights cast a gentle glow, and the fire crackled, its warmth mirroring the love that filled the room.

As midnight approached, they stepped outside, hand in hand. The snow had stopped, and the stars stretched endlessly above them, bright and clear against the inky sky. Paul turned to her, his breath visible in the crisp air.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, his voice a reverent whisper.

“Merry Christmas,” she replied, her heart full to the brim.

In that moment, surrounded by the stillness of the night and the magic of the season, they knew they had found something rare. A love that wasn’t just for Christmas, but for all the days that lay ahead.

[libingan]

merry christmas! 🎁🎄

here it is, people… the christmas fic!!!!! sorry if its so fucking corny it was funnier in my head

can someone please draw them wearing ugly sweaters i need it

the holidays were finally here, and you were determined to make this christmas with task force 141 one that none of you would ever forget. while most people spent the season relaxing and enjoying family time, you knew your family was a little different. the bond you shared with the team was unspoken, but it was there, and it had to be celebrated. and what better way to celebrate than with some over-the-top christmas sweaters?

for weeks, you worked tirelessly to create the most garish, ridiculous sweaters you could think of. your needles clicked, glittered buttons and pom-poms strewn across your workspace, and christmas music blared in the background as you tried your best to make something that was both fun and festive. but in all honesty? the result was so catastrophically ugly that it could only be described as an art form.

soap’s sweater was a brilliant lime green, decorated with a mismatched, wonky santa face, complete with googly eyes that jiggled and wobbled as he moved. ghost’s sweater was black, of course, in keeping with his usual aesthetic, but it was covered in neon-red snowflakes and the words “silent night, deadly night” in garish gold lettering. price’s sweater was navy blue, with a slightly crooked reindeer stitched onto the front, its antlers weighted down by jingly plastic bells that rang with every move he made. gaz’s was a bright red abomination, with a patchwork christmas tree that looked like it had been made by a blindfolded toddler. the tree was adorned with buttons, glitter, and tiny battery-powered fairy lights that blinked in a chaotic, seizure-inducing pattern. and yours? well, yours was a glittery train wreck—candy-cane stripes, mismatched pom-poms, and snowflakes that you’d glued on so haphazardly that some were already starting to peel off.

you waited anxiously, a grin spread wide across your face, as you handed the sweaters out to the team. soap was the first to laugh, an obnoxious, joyful sound that filled the room. “bloody brilliant!” he declared, already slipping it over his head. gaz eagerly followed, adjusting the blinking lights on his sweater with a wide grin. “it’s ugly as hell, but it’s festive!” he cheered, playfully tugging on his sleeves.

but when price looked at the sweater you handed him, his brow furrowed, and he crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered. ghost was even more nonchalant, barely even looking at his sweater. “i’m not wearing that,” he stated simply, his mask hiding any trace of emotion.

you felt your heart sink at their disapproval. you had spent so much time making these sweaters, and now it seemed like your grand idea was going to fall flat. you tried to hide your disappointment, but it was impossible to mask the way your shoulders slumped and the way the grin on your face faded into a frown.

soap, ever the optimist, was quick to notice. “c’mon, lads,” he said, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “it’s christmas. don’t leave her hanging like that.” gaz nodded along, nudging ghost’s side. “yeah, don’t be such buzzkills. we’re doing this for fun.”

price sighed, rubbing his temple. “fine,” he said, clearly resigned to the idea, though you could see he wasn’t thrilled about it. ghost, after a long moment of silent contemplation, muttered a low curse and finally relented. “fine,” he growled, pulling the sweater over his head with a scowl. “but don’t expect me to smile for any damn photos.”

you couldn’t help but beam as the team finally agreed. “thank you,” you whispered, relieved and a little giddy. the fact that they were willing to humor you meant more than you could put into words.

-

the photo shoot began with a sense of awkwardness, but it quickly turned into something far more ridiculous than anyone had imagined. you set up a makeshift photo booth in the corner of the common area. christmas lights twinkled in every direction, and a small, crooked tree stood beside you, barely hanging onto its plastic glory. soap insisted on decorating it with tinsel and a few odd-looking ornaments he’d found lying around the base, including a couple of empty bullet casings.

the first shot was a classic group pose. soap threw an arm around your shoulder, his face lit up with a grin that could rival the sun. gaz stood beside you, striking a finger-gun pose with a cocky smirk, his sweater lights flashing erratically. price and ghost stood behind you, stiff and reluctant, but still part of the scene. price gave a half-smile that was more out of politeness than enjoyment, while ghost’s body language screamed discomfort, but he didn’t look entirely miserable.

the second shot was even more chaotic. soap, in a moment of pure genius, turned his sweater around so santa’s googly eyes stared blankly at the camera. ghost, ever the minimalist, crossed his arms, giving a deadpan expression as he tilted his head, pretending to be menacing. gaz tangled himself in his sweater lights as if they were trying to strangle him, and you knelt in front of him, holding a candy cane like it was an ancient weapon.

for the third photo, you decided to switch it up. this time, you all got creative with silly props you’d found around the base. soap grabbed a small santa hat and dramatically placed it on your head, pulling you into a ridiculous pose where he pretended to be your personal bodyguard. gaz stood beside you, holding an oversized candy cane like it was a weapon, while you struck a playful pose, holding up a mug filled with what was definitely not eggnog but still looked festive. ghost and price, unable to resist the chaos any longer, found themselves joining in as well. ghost raised a plastic cup as if toasting to the absurdity of it all, and price, ever the soldier, saluted with his mug.

and then came the final shot, the crowning glory of the evening. soap and gaz carefully lifted your legs while price took the middle, and ghost reluctantly held your shoulders. you struck a triumphant pose, arms thrown in the air like you’d just conquered the world. soap joked, “light as a feather, lass. guess we’ve been lifting too much.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. this was the moment you had dreamed of—a memory you would cherish forever.

-

the photo session finally came to a close, but you weren’t quite done yet. you stepped forward, cupping each of their faces gently as you planted a kiss on each of their cheeks. soap, never one to shy away from affection, let out a loud laugh and gave you a playful wink. gaz blushed, his smile turning sheepish as he muttered a quiet thank you. price gave you a resigned but soft look, and ghost—stoic as ever—simply leaned into the kiss, his body language telling you more than his words ever could.

“merry christmas,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell with warmth.

“merry christmas,” soap said, grinning widely. gaz and price both offered quiet chuckles, and even ghost nodded slightly, his mask hiding the faintest hint of a smile.

it wasn’t a picture-perfect holiday—far from it—but in that moment, surrounded by your favorite people in the ugliest sweaters ever created, it was exactly what christmas should be: fun, silly, and filled with love.

after the photos were taken, you couldn’t bear for them to be tucked away somewhere forgotten. instead, you had one framed—the last photo, the one where they were all carrying you in their arms like a queen. you decided it would be perfect to hang it somewhere everyone could see, so you found a spot in the mess hall. it wasn’t glamorous, but it was home, and it was filled with laughter and memories. and now, every time the team passed by that spot, they’d see the ridiculous photo—and remember the holiday you all shared.

[atlasthegreatest]

Twinkling Lights and Crimson Blushes / Sophia Laforteza x Female Reader

Which, during a festive Christmas outing, the Katseye girls visit an ice skating rink, where Sophia accidentally bumps into Y/n, sending them both tumbling to the ice. Despite the minor chaos, Y/n can’t help but be captivated by Sophia’s beauty, even as she nurses a cut on her eyebrow.

Word count: 2440

A/n: Sophia Laforteza. That's it. That's the tweet.

The ice rink at Winter Haven Park was dazzling under the strings of golden lights crisscrossing overhead. It was Christmas Eve, and the Katseye girls had decided to embrace the festive season by enjoying an evening of ice skating. Sophia, wrapped in a chic red coat and matching scarf, led the way onto the ice.

“Careful, Sophia!” Yoonchae called from behind, wobbling slightly as she held onto the rink barrier. “Don’t get too confident. It’s slippery out here.”

“Yeah, Sophia,” Manon teased, gliding past with ease. “We wouldn’t want you embarrassing yourself in front of all these people.”

Sophia smirked and spun lightly in place. “Please, I’ve got this.”

The rest of the girls followed her onto the ice, some gracefully (like Daniela, who moved as if she belonged in an ice-dancing competition) and some less so (like Megan, who was clinging to Lara for dear life).

As Sophia focused on her footing, the music from the rink’s speakers changed to a Christmas classic, and the laughter of children mingled with the occasional thuds of people falling. She was skating backward, trying to call to Yoonchae, when she suddenly collided with someone.

Hard.

The impact knocked both of them to the ice, and Sophia groaned as she rubbed her head. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, turning to the person she’d crashed into.

The stranger—a tall, athletic-looking woman with warm brown eyes and a gentle expression—was sitting on the ice, holding her brow where a thin streak of red appeared.

Sophia’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh no! You’re bleeding!”

The woman stared at her, her mouth slightly open as if trying to form words. She didn’t seem particularly bothered by the cut, more focused on Sophia’s face.

Before Sophia could say anything else, another voice chimed in. “Uh, you okay, bud?” A friend of the woman skated over, snickering as they looked between the two. “Looks like you got taken out and starstruck at the same time.”

“Seriously, I’m so sorry,” Sophia said again, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out a tissue. She pressed it gently to the stranger’s eyebrow. “Let me make it up to you. How about I buy you a coffee? Or—” she hesitated for a moment, her cheeks pinking—“or dinner?”

The woman blinked, still too stunned to reply. Her friend nudged her, grinning. “Say yes, idiot.”

Finally, the woman managed to stammer, “Y-yes, I’d… like that.”

Sophia smiled in relief, offering them a hand to help them up. “I’m Sophia, by the way.”

“I know,” the woman replied, sheepishly taking her hand. “I mean—uh, I’m Y/n.”

By now, the rest of the Katseye girls had gathered around, and Lara couldn’t help but laugh. “Sophia, only you could turn a skating accident into a romantic meet-cute.”

Manon raised an eyebrow. “So, dinner, huh? We’ll want details, Miss Laforteza.”

Yoonchae grinned. “This might be the most entertaining part of the night.”

Sophia shot them all a playful glare before turning back to Y/n. “Ignore them. They’re just jealous I managed to make an impression—though maybe not the most graceful one.”

Y/n chuckled, holding the tissue to her cut. “It’s a Christmas Eve to remember.”

As Sophia and Y/n exchanged warm smiles, the festive lights above seemed to twinkle a little brighter, hinting at the promise of something special on this magical winter night.

Sophia then helped Y/n to her feet, the festive chaos around them seemed to blur into the background. Y/n was still holding the tissue to her eyebrow, but her gaze kept flickering back to Sophia, who was equally flustered but doing her best to stay composed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sophia asked, brushing imaginary snow off her coat. “I feel terrible about knocking you over.”

“I’m fine,” Y/n assured her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I think the embarrassment hurts more than the cut.”

“Don’t let her fool you,” Y/n’s friend interjected, grinning. “She’s been watching you for the last ten minutes. She’s just mad you took the first step—literally.”

“Felix,” Y/n hissed, her ears turning red as she shot her friend a mortified glare.

Sophia tilted her head, her expression softening into something teasing. “Oh? Is that true?”

Y/n opened her mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in her throat. Thankfully, Felix wasn’t done stirring the pot. “She’s been hyping herself up to talk to you all night. Guess fate had other plans, huh?”

Sophia laughed—a bright, musical sound that seemed to melt away Y/n’s embarrassment. “Well, I guess I did the hard part for you. Now you owe me.”

Y/n blinked. “Owe you?”

“For dinner,” Sophia said, grinning. “You can call it an apology for not watching where I was going.”

Felix let out a low whistle. “Bold and charming. Y/n, if you don’t take her up on this, I’m stealing her for myself.”

The Katseye girls, who had been hovering nearby and pretending not to listen, finally burst into laughter.

“Looks like Sophia has an admirer,” Lara teased, gliding closer. “Maybe we should leave you two alone?”

“Not before we document this moment,” Manon added, pulling out her phone.

“Manon!” Sophia hissed, her cheeks flushing pink as she waved her hands. “Don’t you dare?”

But it was too late. Manon had already snapped a photo of Sophia and Y/n standing close, the Christmas lights behind them giving the scene a cozy, magical glow.

“Perfect,” Manon said with a smirk, showing the picture to Yoonchae, who giggled.

“Okay, okay,” Sophia said, turning back to Y/n. “Ignore them. They’re my biggest embarrassment most of the time.”

Y/n chuckled, her nervousness easing a little. “I don’t mind. They seem like good friends.”

“Good is a stretch,” Sophia muttered, earning playful boos from her members.

Felix nudged Y/n with his elbow. “So? You're gonna give the pretty girl your number or what?”

Y/n hesitated for a moment before reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out her phone. She handed it to Sophia, her hand brushing hers briefly, and the Filipino girl smiled softly as she entered her number.

“There,” Sophia said, handing the phone back. “Now you can text me about that dinner.”

“I will,” Y/n promised, her gaze lingering on Sophia for a moment longer than necessary.

As the two exchanged shy smiles, the rest of the Katseye girls started skating away, calling out teasing comments.

“Don’t keep her out too late!” Yoonchae joked.

“And don’t let her fall again,” Megan added with a grin.

Sophia groaned but couldn’t help laughing as she turned back to Y/n. “I am sorry about the cut. But I’m glad it led to this.”

Y/n smiled, her heart fluttering despite the still-throbbing pain in her eyebrow. “Me too.”

As they parted ways for the evening, the air was filled with the sounds of laughter, Christmas music, and the magic of an unexpected connection. And though Sophia didn’t know it yet, this was just the beginning of a story that would sparkle as brightly as the twinkling lights above the ice rink.

—————————-

As Sophia skated back to her group, Y/n lingered by the edge of the rink, still holding her phone and staring down at the number saved under “Sophia 🌟.” Felix watched her with an amused smirk.

“You good, champ?” Felix asked, leaning against the barrier. “You look like you just saw Santa in the flesh.”

Y/n blinked out of her daze, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. “She’s… something else.”

“Understatement of the century,” Felix quipped. “Don’t blow it. I’m rooting for you.”

Meanwhile, Sophia rejoined her members, who were waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

“Well?” Manon said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Did you ask for her number, or did she faint from being too close to your sheer magnificence?”

“Stop it,” Sophia said, trying to sound annoyed, though the blush on her cheeks gave her away.

“Come on, we need details!” Yoonchae chimed in, practically vibrating with excitement.

“It’s nothing,” Sophia said, her tone nonchalant as she tightened her scarf. “I just gave her my number so I could properly apologize for knocking her over.”

“Sure, sure,” Daniela said, skating alongside her. “You were apologizing. That’s why you were smiling at each other like it was a Hallmark movie.”

“You all are the worst,” Sophia groaned, covering her face with her gloved hands.

Lara, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke up. “She seemed nice. And cute.”

“Right?” Megan added. “Tall, too. I think she was blushing even more than you were, Sofia.”

“Enough!” Sophia said though she was laughing now. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night, okay?”

But the teasing didn’t stop there. As they skated, the girls continued to whisper and giggle behind her back. They even waved at Y/n, who had re-entered the rink with Felix, much to Sophia’s embarrassment.

Eventually, the night wound down, and the girls gathered by the food stands for hot cocoa. Sophia glanced over her shoulder and caught Y/n looking her way again. She gave a small wave, and Y/n, encouraged by Felix, waved back.

Manon leaned over and whispered, “If she doesn’t text you by tomorrow, we’re taking over.”

“Manon, no,” Sophia said, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

The evening ended with laughter, cocoa, and the promise of something new blooming in the cold, festive air. As the girls walked off toward their car, Sophia couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, the twinkling lights overhead matching the spark she felt deep in her chest.

Bonus Chapter:

The morning after the ice-skating incident, the Katseye girls gathered around the breakfast table in their cozy rented holiday cabin. Snow was falling gently outside, blanketing the world in white. Inside, the air was filled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee, cinnamon rolls, and the unmistakable buzz of excitement as everyone recounted the previous night.

Sophia entered the room last, her hair slightly mussed, and a sleepy but content expression on her face. She plopped into a chair, reaching for a mug of coffee, but before she could take a sip, Yoonchae slid into the seat beside her, a mischievous grin already forming.

“Good morning, lovebird,” Yoonchae teased, nudging Sophia with her elbow.

Sophia groaned. “Please, no. Not before coffee.”

But the girls were relentless. Manon leaned across the table, her phone in hand. “So, I may have done a little stalking,” she said, flashing a photo of Y/n on Instagram, one taken at the rink from a friend’s story. “She’s cute. And tall. Hockey Player. And, oh look, she’s already following you.”

Sophia almost choked on her coffee. “Manon! How do you even find these things so fast?”

“Please,” Megan said, flipping her hair dramatically. “Manon’s practically the FBI when it comes to stuff like this. But the real question is—did she text you yet?”

Sophia’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and she avoided their expectant gazes.

“Oh my god, she did!” Daniela exclaimed, clapping her hands. “You’re blushing. Sophia, spill. What did she say?”

Reluctantly, Sophia pulled out her phone and opened her messages. “Fine,” she said, scrolling to Y/n’s name. “She texted me late last night. Just said it was nice meeting me and asked if I was free for dinner after Christmas.”

The table erupted into cheers and teasing whistles.

“Sophia, you’re living the rom-com dream,” Lara said with a warm smile. “Accidental meet-cute, sparks flying, and now a date? It’s perfect.”

“I’m happy for you,” Megan added, her voice softer but genuine. “Y/n seems sweet.”

Sophia couldn’t help but smile as she stared at the message again. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Yoonchae wiggled her eyebrows. “You better bring her around for official approval. We’re not letting just anyone date our leader, you know.”

Sophia rolled her eyes but laughed. “You’re all impossible. But… thanks. I think this might be something special.”

As the girls continued to chatter and tease, the snowfall outside seemed to match the warmth and joy inside. It was a Christmas to remember, not just for Sophia, but for all of them.

As the girls continued their lively banter, Sophia’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it, seeing Y/n’s name pop up with a new message:

Y/n: “Morning! Hope you’re not too sore from the ice rink disaster. 😊 Still on for dinner after Christmas?”

The room fell silent as everyone caught sight of the message.

“Oh, she texted again!” Yoonchae squealed, reaching for the phone, but Sophia snatched it up before she could.

“Stop it!” Sophia said, laughing as she held the phone close to her chest.

“Okay, but you have to tell us what you’re going to say,” Megan pressed, leaning in. “Don’t overthink it, but don’t underthink it either. This is crucial.”

Sophia looked at her phone, debating for a moment. “I’ll just say… ‘Good morning! Not too sore, thankfully. And yes, dinner sounds great.’”

“Boring,” Manon deadpanned.

“It’s fine!” Sophia defended herself. “I’m not trying to be fancy. It’s just a confirmation.”

“Fine, fine,” Daniela said, waving her hand. “But you better let us help you pick out an outfit for this dinner. We can’t let our leader show up looking anything less than stunning.”

“Like I’d ever trust you guys with that,” Sophia teased, earning a chorus of mock protests.

As Sophia hit send, she glanced out the window, where the snow continued to fall softly. It felt like the world was moving slower than usual, giving her time to savor the sweetness of the moment.

Moments later, her phone buzzed again.

Y/n: “Great! I’ll pick you up at 7. Can’t wait to see you again.”

Sophia smiled, her heart skipping a beat. Before she could react, Yoonchae leaned over her shoulder and read the message aloud.

“Oh, she’s smooth,” Yoonchae said, smirking. “You’ve got a keeper, Sophia.”

“Enough,” Sophia groaned, but she couldn’t hide her grin.

Lara tilted her head thoughtfully. “You know, this feels like one of those moments we’re going to look back on and tease you about forever.”

“Like you don’t already have enough material,” Sophia replied dryly, but her expression softened as she looked around at her friends. “I’m glad I have you all here to make this even more embarrassing than it has to be.”

The girls laughed, and the conversation shifted back to holiday plans and their upcoming schedule, but Sophia’s mind lingered on Y/n’s message.

As the day went on, Sophia found herself feeling lighter, and more hopeful. Maybe the holiday magic wasn’t just for fairy tales. Maybe, just maybe, it was real—and she was living in it.

[simjaexy]

𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙚 | 𝙃𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚

“𝑰’𝒎𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖”

𝑨 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍

Synopsis — Spending the Christmas day with your lover couldn’t be any better, until you both get caught under a mistletoe. You know what they say, any man is allowed to kiss a woman under it. So why would they let that slip away when you’re under it in their arms?

Genre — Pure fluff

Wc — 1.9k

Now playing — Mistletoe by Justin Bieber

A/n — One more day until Christmas! Decided to make a Christmas special cuz my dumb self never does those ;) but in a further note if you don’t wanna kiss anyone under a mistletoe then by all means don’t do it! the synopsis was the only thing I could think of LOL. Anyways.. I hope you guys enjoy this one cuz I know I did. Like, Reblog, Comment, Etc.! If you would like to be on the perm add a comment!

masterlist here

❆ Heeseung and you walked hand in hand enjoying the festive night together. As much as Heeseung wasn’t fond of the coldness, he couldn’t say no to your pouty face wanting to spend this day together. Your laughter filled the air as you both talked, not a care in the world if people look at you strange.

“Heeseung look!” You beamed. Heeseung glanced over and noticed it was a reindeer photoshoot. You stared in awe, wanting to also take a photo with it. Heeseung smiled, it wouldn’t be so bad taking a photo with a reindeer. He dragged you over there softly making you giggle.

“Alright next people!” The photographer shouted. The photographer motioned for you both to stand next to the reindeer, and Heeseung slipped an arm around your waist as you posed. The reindeer looked calm and beautiful, but it was its eyes that caught your attention—large, dark, and gentle.

As the photographer snapped the picture, you couldn’t help but smile, “Heeseung,” You said playfully, “I think the reindeer’s eyes look just like yours.”

Heeseung blinked, a laugh escaping him, “What? My eyes?”

You nodded, pointing at the reindeer’s gaze, “Yeah, look at them! They’re pretty.”

Heeseung chuckled, his gaze softening as he met your eyes, “I guess we do share a few things in common, huh?” He leaned closer, his voice lowering. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the warmth spreading around your cheeks.

When the photo was printed, you smiled at the image. The reindeer’s eyes truly did look like Heeseung’s, calm. You glanced up at him, grinning mischievously, “I think you’ve got some competition now. You’re no longer the only one with that irresistible gaze.”

Heeseung winked at you, pulling you closer, “Maybe, but I think I’m still your favorite.” Heeseung stopped suddenly, eyes twinkling with playful mischief, “Look, babe,” he said, nodding toward the mistletoe.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips, “What now, Heeseung?” Heeseung already felt his heart jump with the way you said his name. God, you were it for him.

“Do you know the rules?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, “Because I think we both know what happens under the mistletoe.”

Before you could respond, his lips found yours, slow and sweet, it almost felt like the world has slowed around you two as he embraced you warmly under the cold, making everything feel perfect. When he pulled away, he whispered, “Best Christmas gift ever.”

❆ Jay had been talking quietly near the Christmas tree with you, the faint sounds of holiday music playing in the background. It was a time where you and Jay decided to spend the holidays together just alone without anyone else. It was perfect for the two of you to have a relaxing Christmas.

Just then you’re favorite song came on the record and a large smile spread across your face. Jay felt his heart warm in his chest watching you get up. You extended a hand out to him and that’s when he knew what you were trying to do, “Dance with me, Jay?”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on his lips, “A Christmas dance, huh?”

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with the joy of the moment, “Why not?”

Without hesitation, Jay set his drink down and took your hand, letting you guide him into the middle of the living room. The room seemed to quiet around you, the outside world melting away as the two of you swayed slowly to the music.

The gentle rhythm of the song enveloped you both, and you felt the warmth of his touch seep into your skin, his other hand resting softly on your waist.

You rested your head against his chest, the beat of his heart syncing with the music. Jay’s arms tightened around you just a little, as though he, too, wanted to savor the stillness of the moment. As you moved together, the song seemed to stretch, as if time itself didn’t want to let go.

Jay’s voice, low and warm, broke the silence as the song neared its end, “I never knew Christmas could feel this… peaceful.”

You smiled, pulling away slightly to meet his eyes, “It’s perfect with you.”

The last few notes of the song played out softly, and the room felt as if it had frozen in time. As you stepped back, you didn’t notice the mistletoe dangling above. Jay’s eyes glinted with mischief when he caught sight of it.

“Guess we’re under the mistletoe,” He said with a smirk, his hand gently cupping your face, “And you know, I’m not one to break tradition.”

You laughed softly, a slight blush creeping up your neck, “You don’t need an excuse to kiss me.”

He pulled you closer, his lips brushing yours in a slow, deep kiss that made your heart race, “Maybe, but it’s the perfect excuse to kiss my favorite person. Merry Christmas, love.”

❆ Jake spreaded the frosting around his gingerbread house. You, doing the same. The kitchen was filled with the smell of gingerbread as you and Jake worked side by side. The counter wasn’t really a sight to see, a mess of candy, icing, and little sprinkles of sugar everywhere. But to you, none of it mattered. It was the kind of chaos you loved.

Jake grinned at you as he carefully placed a gumdrop on the roof of his house, “Do you think we’re professional gingerbread architects yet?”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking, “Well, if this is what passes for architecture, I’d say we’re definitely on the right track.”

He laughed, flicking a little icing onto your cheek as he leaned in, “Oh, sorry, did I get you?” He grinned mischievously, but you could tell he was proud of his attack.

You wiped it off with your finger and licked it off. You decided to reach over to steal a piece of candy from his stash, “I think I’ll take that as a challenge.”

As the two of you continued decorating, you noticed how careful Jake was with each candy placement, how his tongue poked out slightly in concentration. You always found that little habit of his cute.

You couldn’t help but smile. After a while, the two houses took shape—Jake’s house, colorful and full of candy, and yours, a little more regular but still charming in its own way. You stepped back to admire your work, a proud grin spreading across your face.

“Okay, I think we’re done,” you said, resting your hands on your hips.

Jake glanced at his creation and then at yours, comparing them, “I’ll admit, yours looks better than I thought it would.”

You shot him a playful look, “That’s what you get for underestimating me. But, honestly, I think we both did a pretty good job.”

As you both walked to the living, the smell of pine and cinnamon filled your nose. You and Jake were near the door when you both suddenly stopped, noticing the mistletoe hanging right above you.

Jake grinned playfully, his fingers brushing against yours, “Looks like we’ve got no choice but to kiss, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile, “I’m not complaining.”

Jake laughed and pulled you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss. The world outside seemed to disappear, and for a moment, it was just the two of you under the mistletoe, lost in the moment.

“Best part of Christmas,” He murmured against your lips, “Kissing you.”

❆ Sunghoon watched as you wrapped up gifts you got from shops you went to earlier. You both did a little shopping for tomorrow since his friends were coming over for the holidays. You gladly made sure everyone had something. Sunghoon couldn’t help but smile seeing you so concentrated to make every gift wrapped perfectly.

He went over and sat down next to you, “Professional gift maker? Never thought I’d ever call you that.” He teased. You gave him a playful glare as he grabbed a bag. He was gonna look inside until you snatched it away within a quickness.

“That one’s for you!” You said. Sunghoon eyes twinkled in amusement. He wondered what you could have gotten him. He raised his hands up in surrender making you giggle. You put the bag behind you and continued wrapping up Jungwons gift, your fingers gently pulling tape and trimming the edges of colorful paper.

Sunghoon decided to help you out. He grabbed a scissors and wraps and started getting to work. It wasn’t as easy as he thought it was when it came out as a half-wrapped box, “I think I’ve wrapped this wrong,” Sunghoon said. His furrowed brow and slightly frustrated sigh made you laugh.

“You’re overthinking it,” You teased, reaching over to help him smooth out the paper, “It’s just a gift, not a fashion statement.”

He grinned, taking the opportunity to poke you with the edge of his tape roll, “You’re probably right. I just want it to look perfect.” His eyes softened as he looked at the pile of gifts near the tree, each one carefully chosen, each one made by you.

You stopped what you were doing for a moment and glanced at him, your heart warming at how much effort he put into everything, “You’re doing great. It doesn’t have to be perfect, Sunghoon. It’s the thought that counts.”

He smiled at you, that soft, genuine smile you loved, and nodded, “I guess you’re right. But I want this Christmas to be special for you.”

You reached over and squeezed his hand gently, your fingers brushing against his as you finished wrapping another gift, “It already is. Just being here with you, wrapping gifts together… it’s perfect.”

Sunghoon paused for a moment, his eyes catching yours. The soft glow from the tree reflected in his gaze, “Yeah. I feel the same way.”

The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound being the rustle of paper. As you finished wrapping another gift, you sat back on your heels and admired the tree, now surrounded by a stack of neatly wrapped presents.

“You know, I think we’re done,” You said, a soft smile spreading across your face.

Sunghoon leaned back, staring at all the gifts, “You think we did a good job?”

“Absolutely,” You said with a smile, “We make a great team.”

Sunghoon chuckled and nudged you lightly, “A team, huh? Well, if we’re a team, then I think you deserve a reward.” You chuckled as he walked towards the kitchen with you following behind.

Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, stopping, before turning over to you. His eyes locking onto you with a teasing smile, “I see the mistletoe, babe.”

You looked up, noticing it hanging just above, “You don’t need an excuse, Sunghoon.”

His grin widened, “But it makes it more fun.”

Before you could protest, he was already close, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him as he deepened the kiss, making everything else fade away.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes softened, “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

taglist — @laylasbunbunny @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @yoongisbaguetteshoes @enhypenlovre @melancholy-z @minghaosimp @dudewhoism @honeychocos @hearts4hee @tlnyjoong @1013club @yagsoobin @mrsjohnnysuh @heekilrvs @enhasrii @prettygurlnikittie @jakeswifez @yunhoswrldddd @seokseokjinkim @slay-you-slay-all-day @whateverhoon @luminouskalopsia @noturmommasstuff @love4hee @sayuridump @ddeonuu4me @selleprotection @jenn-ieverse @ddolleri @babyy-bambii @nikiswifiee @rjssierjrie @sweetshinypuppy @moonpri @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @jayjw16enxp @aanniikkaa @prkhoonlvr @devi1d0ppi0 @enhygene @talyaxia @demigodmahash @shawnyle @0hmyengene @dazzlingjaeyun @ancnymcnzjy @immortalonie @jenniferthekittycat

[dreatopia]

What do I do? |  Paige Bueckers x fem!Reader

 Warnings: Smut!!! (but not in the way you think...)

 A/n: This is my first time writing anything on here so be nice! I got inspired by Sza for this and tbh i might just keep up the Sza theme for all of these stories... if I end up writing more. Enjoy!!

 “Last night, you called on accident. heard you fucking on the other end.”

Paige:

I heard the phone buzz on the nightstand, its glow illuminating the dim room. Lost in the moment, I almost ignored it, but I let my curiosity get the best of me. Reaching over, I glanced at the screen and saw the name—her name. 

"Why the hell is she calling me?" I muttered, sliding out from under the sheets and grabbing the phone.  I swiped to answer, my heart pounding. "Hey, what's up," I said, trying to keep my tone as normal as possible—even though I was internally shaking. What I heard next should have made me hang up immediately, but I didn’t. For a moment, there was only silence, followed by faint breathing and muffled voices in the background. Then I heard her voice. 

"Ohhh fuckkk…" I heard the familiar sounds of her moans, and suddenly my own breath started to become shallow. I froze in place. She must've called on accident, I was sure. I should hang up, but I really didn’t want to. I’d missed the sweet sound of her moans, especially when they were laced with my name. At this point, she was muttering incoherently—a name I didn’t understand—a name that wasn’t mine.

"Yes, just like that, Audrey…"

I felt my knuckles turn white, my jaw tensing with anger. Who the fuck is Audrey? The phone sat on my bed, and I listened, consumed by pure, seething rage. I could hear that bitch on the other end, talking to her, but it was nothing like how I would’ve done it. I would’ve told her how good of a girl she was being for me- how she was the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen. But Audrey? She wasn’t doing any of that.

I felt like a freak for listening, but I couldn’t stop. I needed to hear her finish, to know if she was as good as I was.

My chest tightened as I got lost in the sound of her moans—even though they weren’t for me. My hands betrayed me, slipping down my pants and into my folds. I muted myself, not wanting my own moans to be heard. My fingers found my clit while my other hand cupped my breast. I can’t believe I’m getting off to my ex moaning for another girl.

But I couldn’t stop.

I heard her getting closer, her breaths quickening. Something sounded off, though, like she was faking it. A smirk tugged at my lips at the thought of her pretending. If I were there, she wouldn’t have to fake a damn thing.

Except I wasn’t there. We weren’t fucking. Instead, I was fucking myself to the sound of her. How pathetic.

I didn’t let that thought stop me. The closer she got, the faster I moved, slipping a finger inside myself. Her name escaped my lips as I wished it was her finger instead of mine.

“Oh, fuck, yeah… That feels so good,” I whispered, imagining her right here with me.

As if on cue, I heard her voice, shaky and breathless.

“I’m gonna cum.”

Her words pushed me over the edge.

“Yeah, baby, doing so good for me,” I murmured, my voice breaking as the orgasm washed over me. My body buzzed with pleasure I hadn’t felt in so long.

Through the receiver, I heard her staggering breaths as she came down from her high. Reality hit me like a brick.

Grabbing my phone, I hurriedly hung up. I already felt crazy for staying on as long as I did. My eyes grew heavy, and exhaustion consumed me. I fell asleep with one thought in my mind—the girl I let go.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of my phone dinging.

It was her.

R: Why does my phone say we were on a call for 20 minutes?

Fuck.

[httpsdana]

Can you do promo 14 and 21 with kenan on how he never thought about actually dating until he met her and how she changed his opinion on dating

When It’s You~Kenan Yildiz

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

14-“I never planned to fall in love, but here we are.”

21-“I can’t believe you remember all those little things I say.”

Kenan Yildiz had always been a bit of a skeptic when it came to love. His focus had always been on his career, his goals, and his dreams.

Relationships, with all their messy emotions and potential distractions, didn’t fit into the plan. He was the type to scoff when his teammates talked about love, rolling his eyes at their lovesick grins and romantic anecdotes.

But then he met her.

It wasn’t a thunderbolt moment or an immediate spark of realization. It was more like the quiet breaking of dawn—slow, steady, and impossible to ignore.

He noticed the way she laughed, genuine and hearty, as if she weren’t afraid to fill the room with joy. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her passions. How she always managed to bring out the best in him, even on his worst days.

Kenan found himself seeking out her company, making excuses to talk to her, and eventually, he couldn’t ignore the growing warmth in his chest every time she was around.

One evening, the two were sat in his living room , the movie playing on the TV flickered in the background, its plot long forgotten. Kenan sat beside her on the couch, unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on the floor as if lost in thought.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked, nudging his leg lightly with her foot.

He looked at her, startled, as if he hadn’t realized she was paying attention. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just thinking,” he said simply.

She tilted her head, studying him. “Thinking about what?”

Kenan hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly against his knee. “You probably don’t remember, but the first time I ever talked to you, I told you I hated pineapple on pizza.”

She laughed, the memory instantly coming back. “Of course, I remember. You ranted about it for ten minutes. I thought, ‘Wow, this guy really has strong opinions about fruit.’”

His lips quirked up into a small grin. “It wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“Well, I thought it was cute,” she said with a shrug.

He looked at her, his expression softening. “I can’t believe you remember all those little things I say. I didn’t think anyone listened that much.”

“Of course, I listen,” she replied, reaching over to rest her hand on his. “Everything you say matters to me.”

Kenan turned his hand over, threading his fingers through hers. He stared at their intertwined hands for a moment, his thumb gently brushing against her skin.

“you know...I never planned to fall in love,” he admitted, his voice low. “But here we are.”

The sincerity in his tone made her chest tighten. “Kenan…”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “I thought love was something other people did. Something that would just get in the way of my plans. I didn’t think it was for me.” He gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “But then you came along, and now I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Her heart swelled, and she squeezed his hand. “Well, I’m glad I changed your mind.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “You didn’t just change my mind. You changed everything.”

And in that moment, with his hand in hers and his words still lingering in the air, she knew that she had done the same for him.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[lynzishell]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 30 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉 (because rules were made to be broken)

TYSM for tagging me @herecirmsims, @elderwisp, and @changingplumbob 💖 As per usual, I went overboard... oops!

Before I forget -- I am going to tag @honeyjars-sims, @raiiny-bay, @havenroyals, @likelyamused, and @dandylion240 (ofc, feel free to ignore me if you've already done it, or if you just don't wanna)

JANUARY

We started the year in Sulani where Phoenix and Dawn got engaged! Let us all take a moment to remember the glory that was Phoenix with a tan 😍

I call this - My Love Affair with Brindleton Bay (Part 1)

I love them. This isn't even the greatest screenshot, but it will forever be one of my favorites. One day I will put together a collage of forehead kisses for these two.

FEBRUARY

My Love Affair with Brindleton Bay (Part 2)

Mario, Luigi, and Yoshi were always happy to steal focus when I needed to blur things happening in the background... 😏

Atlas forever being the best uncle in the world... and fascinated with his niece having his eyes

MARCH

Me peeking through the foliage while Phoenix introduces his wife and child to his mom... the only way he knows how 🥺🤍

APRIL

😂 Ok so March and April are pretty sparse... I took a break in the Spring because I was going through a breakup and a move. I spent that time focusing on things that made me happy - like writing The Past arc for the boys and laughing at Dawn's ridiculous in-game expressions 😂

MAY

I'm so glad I took that break because I was able to come back and give Phoenix and Dawn the wedding they deserved! I also LOVE these last two shots... After the party ended, those three were goofing off and having so much fun... and then giving Phoenix the MOST thoughtful gift... it still makes me tear up! 🥹

JUNE

And so it begins... This nightmare sequence was so much fun to put together! And this shot is by far my favorite... it was totally by accident, but oh so perfect

The Past my beloved... I love this shot sm... the morning light, the fall colors, Ash and Lex being Ash and Lex while Atlas tags along behind them (he'd only known Ash for 24 hours and was already crushing... poor boy didn't stand a chance)

Oh yeah! Remember Chestnut Ridge?! The way I jumped around in this part istg... You're all incredible for putting up with me this summer 😂 Okay but I love this one because of how all the animals are turned to look at Danny... again, a total accident, but perfectly foreshadows what I have in mind for his future!

Back the The Past - What's perfect about this one is how the only thing in focus is where they are touching.

I’m acutely aware that his leg is resting against me now, and he’s rolling the fabric of my sleeve between his thumb and middle finger. Normally, I would have already scooted away from the sofa. Pivoted my body so the conversation could continue, but so that I could not be touched. But I don’t feel any need to do that. Not with him. His affection is so subtle and absent-minded; I can tell he’s just feeling comfortable with me. Something about that makes me feel comfortable with him too.

JULY

AHHHHHH!!! I still lose my mind over this moment!!! Like... the way physical touch plays such a big role throughout this arc, and getting to see Atlas evolve from someone who always kept his distance from people to being the affectionate teddy bear he is today... and the way Ash is so sweet and mindful and considerate through it all...

And then I look down, down to where I feel his hand come to rest on my leg, the heat of it warming my thigh. “Is that okay?” He asks, “Do you want me to move my hand?” I look up into his eyes and shake my head slightly, “No. No, it’s okay.”

THEIR FIRST KISS!!!!! The tippy toes pls!!! 😭 I'm not gonna lie.... I forgot the entire purpose of this post and am now lost to reminiscing... I already miss this arc so much!!!

Taking my time, I brush my lips lightly against his before kissing him softly. Holding myself back, not because I’m unsure, but because I’ve never been more certain of anything. I want to savor this moment, commit it to memory so I can revisit it tomorrow, and every day after.

A brief look into The Present as these two make plans for the future that I will inevitably ruin for them because I felt compelled to go into CAS and play around with genetics and rewrite the entire ending to this arc. Sorry not sorry boys!

aaaand back to The Past for our first peek at Ash's POV as he realizes he may be falling for Atlas

Y’know, my biggest fear is drowning, especially in the ocean, and yet, my favorite place is the beach near my parents’ house, sitting right at the water’s edge. Being with Atlas, it reminds me of this place. The bright blue of his eyes, the sandy color of his hair, and the dusting of freckles across his nose. And the way being near him makes me feel just a little nervous, like at any moment I could get swept away and lose myself completely.

AUGUST

Oh yeah! Chestnut Ridge and Joey's cliche dad-logic moment! Seriously guys... thank you for putting up with my nonsense... But OMG! Did you know you can set the horses to buck riders off every time they try to get on? 10/10 recommend if you need a laugh! I had so much fun with this scene... Phoenix, on the other hand, did not 🫣

This one. You have no idea. I struggled SO MUCH with trying to figure this scene out... and only those in our discord writing group will know how I lost my mind when these poses were released and gave me the inspiration I needed... I'm pretty sure I shot this scene a month before I even started this arc because I couldn't get it out of my head... I should also add that these two died in process of making it, and I fucked up this lot while trying to place all the lights and decos via TOOL and had to start all over in another save (which worked out because the Romance Festival spawned in the new one making it all so much better and more lively)... I went through a lot for this shot, and I will hold it near and dear to my heart forever as a result.

SEPTEMBER

Just them. Holding hands. In The Present. 🥹 I just like this one a lot... it's actually the desktop background on my PC lol

A hazy dream in neon pink

Don't worry... they're JUST FRIENDS (who are clearly in love with each other and on mdma and suddenly can't keep their hands off each other)

As he backs himself against the wall, pulling me into him, I finally understand. “Is this okay?” he asks. I lean in so fast that I practically breathe the answer into his mouth, “Yeah,” and before I know it, we’re making out again. But this time is far more intense, our kisses deeper, our breathing ragged, our hands grabbing fistfuls of hair and clothing and clawing at skin as though our desire for each other has grown into some kind of wild animal. Finally free from its cage, there’s no going back now.

💛🩵💛🩵 What am I doing again? I think I've lost the plot...

OCTOBER

Oh yeah... fave screenshots of 2024! We're so back! San Myshuno my beloved

The Proposal 😭 Spoiler alert... they were never "just friends" ajsdkakljs Also, I had to exit and go back in game three times to keep those bright red/orange skies for this scene... worth it!

NOVEMBER

A glimpse of The Future... and bb is confused af

DECEMBER

Things are different now in ways they don't quite understand, but they have each other 🥹🩵💛

For the rest of our lives, we're in this together.

[athenasdaydreams]

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky spends Christmas rediscovering old traditions with you, decorating cookies, laughing over sprinkles, and finding joy in the simple warmth of the holidays.

chapter warnings: mention of food, other than that not any to my knowledge!!

A/N: merry christmas!! this is my first themed fic and lowkey i had so much fun writing it haha hope yall enjoy!!!

The snow fell in fat, lazy flakes, clinging to the edges of the window like frosted lace. Bucky Barnes stood in the quiet, watching the city transform under a blanket of white. His breath fogged the glass as he leaned closer, his reflection faint against the winter night. For years, snow had been nothing but a reminder of cold nights and colder missions.

But now, the sound of your laughter carried from the kitchen, bright and soft like a melody, pulling him back into the present.

“You’re just going to stare out the window all night, soldier?” you called, your voice teasing.

He turned, catching sight of you standing by the counter, your sleeves rolled up, a streak of flour smudged across your cheek. His lips curved into the faintest smile. You were coaxing him into this season the way sunlight coaxed a frostbitten earth into spring—patiently, gently, without expectation.

“I’m coming,” he said, his voice low but warm.

The kitchen was a riot of Christmas cheer. Strings of twinkling lights framed the windows, casting a golden glow over the mess of mixing bowls, cookie cutters, and open jars of sprinkles. The radio played something old and crackly, Bing Crosby crooning in the background like he’d stepped straight out of Bucky’s childhood.

It all felt familiar in a way that made his chest ache.

“You remember this? I mean obviously now we have flatscreen TVs and sprinkles, but other than that it's still...christmasy?” you asked, handing him a rolling pin as he joined you at the counter.

He paused, his metal hand brushing the handle as if testing its weight. His face scrunched up in surprise. "You think they didn't have sprinkles back then?"

You shrugged. "Not like these, maybe, but we still had little candy beads and coloured sugar. You think you invented sprinkles?”

You stared at him, your mouth slightly open. “I just—sprinkles feel so... modern.”

“But yes, I do remember,” he said, a flicker of something wistful crossing his face. “My ma used to bake this time of year. Gingerbread, mostly. Me and Becca would try to help, but we always ended up eating half the icing before it made it to the cookies.”

You grinned. “Sounds like my kind of Christmas.”

Bucky chuckled softly, the sound low and almost shy. He reached for the dough, his movements slower than yours, deliberate in a way that spoke to the years he’d spent relearning how to trust his hands.

“Did you ever have snowball fights?” you asked, pressing a star-shaped cutter into the dough.

“All the time,” he said, a spark of mischief lighting his expression. “I had the best aim in the neighborhood. But Becca? She had no mercy.”

Your laugh was soft and easy, like the sound of a fire crackling. “I’d love to have seen that.”

“You’d have been on her team,” he said, smirking. “I’d have been outnumbered.”

“Well,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder, “maybe we’ll have to start a new tradition. Snowball fights, gingerbread wars... I’ll even let you win sometimes.”

“Oh, you’ll let me, huh?”

The banter was light, but underneath it was something heavier, something that made Bucky’s chest tighten and loosen all at once. This—this moment, this warmth—it was what he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

As the cookies baked, filling the air with the scent of cinnamon and cloves, you brought over a box of ornaments. “Found these at the market last week,” you said, opening the lid to reveal a collection of mismatched treasures.

Bucky’s hand hovered over a wooden reindeer, its paint chipped and faded. He picked it up carefully, running his thumb over the worn edges.

“Reminds me of one we had growing up,” he said, his voice quiet. “It wasn’t perfect, but Ma always put it right in the middle of the tree.”

“Then this one should go in the middle too,” you said softly, holding out your hand.

Together, you hung it on the tree, your hands brushing as you stepped back to admire the way the lights caught on its surface. The glow from the tree bathed the room in warmth, and Bucky felt something stir deep inside—a quiet kind of peace that he hadn’t known in decades.

Later, after the cookies had been frosted (and more than a few had been eaten), you settled together on the couch. A blanket was draped over both of you, and a steaming mug of cocoa sat in your hands.

The snow outside was still falling, muffling the world beyond your little sanctuary. Bucky’s arm was draped around your shoulders, his metal fingers tracing absentminded patterns against your arm.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low, “for a long time, I didn’t think I’d ever feel this again. Like... like it was all too far away. Too broken to fix.”

You turned to look at him, your gaze soft but steady. “You’re not broken, Buck. You’re still you. And you’re here, right now. That’s what matters.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight with the weight of your words. “You make it easier,” he admitted. “To remember. To... feel.”

You reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Then we’ll make more to remember,” you said simply.

His lips curved into the kind of smile that reached his eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “We will.”

As the night deepened and the snow piled high, you stayed curled together on the couch, the world outside forgotten. Bucky’s past wasn’t something he could change, but for the first time in a long time, he realised he didn’t have to. The present was enough—more than enough—with you by his side.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Merry Christmas, Buck,” you whispered back, and for the first time in years, he truly believed it.

[lexkent]

clex fic rec part 2:

The Season by Lenore (2,741 words) summary: Clark runs into Lex at a charity event, and it’s the season of forgiveness.

words with friends by spqr (6,811 words) summary: Lex, the letter begins. I’m sorry, but if you’re reading this, it means I’m dead.

Day of the Crockpot by sabershadowkat (912 words) summary: A moment of surreal clarity.

Complicity by rivkat (4,815 words) summary: Who are you going to believe--me or your own eyes?

In Another Life by Bitsie38 (2,189 words) summary: Years ago, Clark Kent and Lex Luthor were best friends. Now, they are the bitterest of enemies. During yet another Justice League event involving parallel universes, Clark meets a very different Lex Luthor.

The Color of Accord by Lenore (1,499 words) summary: Clark loses his powers and finds Lex.

Golden Rule by rivkat (13,204 words) summary: Clark doesn't make the same mistake twice.

Red String by thehoyden (1,031 words) summary: Dish gloves, destiny, and weird answering machine messages: one of these is not like the others.

Making Things Right by Tallihensia (5,475 words) summary: After Lex comes back from Belle Reve, Clark can't forget. Lex has forgotten, but Clark remembers and it's tearing him apart.

The Plan by Lenore (1,368 words) summary: The rift isn’t exactly what it seems.

A Handful of Dust by seperis (47,059 words) summary: At the end of the world, Lex can't stop running.

Secrets, Lies, and Misunderstandings by mahaliem summary: "In the hall outside Clark's dorm room, Lex slowly backed away without knocking, his mind awhirl with what he'd just heard. Clark Kent was gay."

Red Tape by Lenore (16,262 words) summary: Clark’s illegal, and Lex makes him a green card proposal.

Kryptonite Suit by cecilylee (3,000 words) summary: Even when he's a lying son of a bitch, Clark is a hero.

The Journey Back by Tallihensia (15,555 words) summary: Lex wakes up to a future that is very different from the one he thought he would have. Why is he fighting Superman, and who is Lex Luthor?

Second Chances by Dolimir (4,958 words) summary: Written for the Harlequin Week Challenge. Prompt chosen: The Greek Tycoon's Unwilling Wife: Recuperating on his private Greek island after a car crash, Andreas Petrakos had no memory of the previous year. The last thing he remembered was his passionate affair with beautiful Rebecca Ainsworth...when, actually, she was his wife! 

Long Time Coming by BewareTheIdes15 (14,685 words) summary: “Yes, I’m in love with you,” Lex says, like he’s explaining that the Earth is round; like this is some baseline, inalienable fact that’s not irretrievably reorganizing Clark’s existence. “I’ve never seen any reason for that to be an impediment to our friendship.”

Red Sky at Night by Tallihensia (5,347 words) summary: Clark goes looking for Lex. He finds him in the heart of Kal's former territory, and old instincts rule for both of them.

Therefore I Am by PL Nunn summary: Lex Luthor wakes up with a few holes in his memory and a very disconcerting discovery.

I Can't Believe It's Not Butter by laceymcbain (8,849 words) summary: "Lex, how exactly did you get your head stuck in the banister?"

Stranded by PL Nunn summary: Takes up where season 7 left off, with the sky falling down on Lex and Clark after the final confrontation at the Fortress of Solitude. (WIP. leaves off on a cliffhanger. worth it.)

You Can Call Me Al by Lenore (56,578 words) summary: Lex gets lost, and Clark claims him. An AU a la the movie “Overboard.”

Twilight's Secrets by Tallihensia (8,677 words) summary: Lex is getting divorced again. Superman stops by and the two have a long overdue conversation.

Smallville Throupleverse by CarpeDiemForLife (22,088 words) summary: A series of episode tags that weave a slowburn Clark/Lana/Lex relationship into the background of the show. 

While They Do Dream Things True by thirteenthmoon (6,610 words) summary: Lex falls under the effects of the Black Mercy plant, and dreams up a reality where he and Clark are married. Clark has to travel into his dreams to break him out of it.

May Day by Tallihensia (9,388 words) summary: For fifteen years, Lex has sent Clark flowers on May 1, even when they've been enemies. This year, though, was different. What happened to Lex, and why didn't Clark get any flowers this year?

Reciprocation, Give and Take, Quality Time, and Emergence by PL Nunn summary: When Lex inadvertently discovers Clark's powers a great deal of buried emotion bubbles to the surface on both their parts. Trust issues abound.

Switch: A Comedy of Terrors by rivkat (35,185 words) summary: Plot rocks lead Mind to forget where it put Brain. Wackiness ensues.

Unshatter by Lenore (5,856 words) summary: Rescue. Finally.

Eavesdropping by LadyRa (7,460 words) summary: Jonathan gets a wake-up call about Lex.

Once again, please feel welcome to message me if you’d like content warnings on any specific fic. There's some dark content here and not everything is tagged.

clex fic part 1

[planetpedri]

Christmas love 𖦹 Jak Crawford !

summary. it’s christmas at the bearman residence and there is a new addition this year, ollie’s best friend, and your boyfriend.

word count. 525+

disclaimers. fluff, reader is ollies sister!

bea speaks. this is my xmas present to my bff @lechrts i love you bae, i hope this makes your christmas eve better ^_^

“Jak, you can’t just leave the star crooked,” you said, head tilting as you stood back to study the Christmas tree.

The soft twinkle of Christmas lights illuminated the room, casting a warm glow across the pine needles and carefully placed ornaments. You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at Jak, who wobbly balanced on a red step stool.

“It’s not crooked!” Jak protested, leaning back to admire his handiwork. His dark curls fell over his forehead as he squinted his eyes, trying to convince himself it was straight.

“It’s definitely crooked,” Ollie called out from the couch where he laid back lazily. He was sprawled out with his phone in hand, sparing a glance at the tree. “And if you fall, do not expect me to catch you mate.”

Jak let out a dramatic sigh, stepping away from the stool with exaggerated caution. He turned to you, “Am I doing this for you or your brother? Because I’m starting to feel the judgement coming off of both of you.”

Biting back a smile, you walk over to stand beside him, your hand resting on his bicep. “Me, obviously. Ollie just loves to critique. It’s all he’s good at.”

“Hey—what?”

Jak leaned against the brick wall that surrounded the fireplace, arms folding over his chest, a small grin tugging at his lips. “For someone who claims they love me, you’re quick to play both sides.”

You pause, tapping your chin. “Well, I did just say something backhanded to him.. but I suppose I’m like Switzerland.”

You move away from your boyfriend, stepping up onto the steps tool and adjusting the star. Then, stepping down to admire the work. “Men are so incompetent.” You whisper under your breath.

The boys eyebrows raise, “what?”

From the couch, Ollie lets out a snort. “Switzerland wouldn’t have dragged me and Jak into the living room to ‘help’. Nor make Jak do the most decorating.”

Jak shot him a playful glare, pointing a finger at the tall Brit in mock accusation. “You didn’t even warn me about all this, man. ‘Come over for Christmas’ You said, ‘it’ll be oh so fun’ you also said.”

Ollie smirks. “Consider it your initiation into the family!”

Before Jak could retort, your mother’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Kids! Dinners ready!”

Thats when the scent of fresh food and bakery hit your nose and your eyes lit up. You clap your hands and Jak loops an arm around your shoulders. The two of you walk behind your brother, smiling.

Right before you enter the dining room, Jak stops, which causes you to halt as well. “Hey,” he starts softly, “I do appreciate being invited. I know this is a big holiday for your family.”

His smile was almost shy, a faint pink spreading across his cheeks. It makes your smile widen and your heart flutters. Leaning in, you kiss him gently, letting your lips linger on his for a moment longer.

“I’m just glad you wanted to come.” You hum once you pull away. “I love you, and you are always welcome.”

“I love you too.” He murmurs, placing a kiss to your forehead.

Then, you both make your way into the dining room, the sounds of laughter from your family mixed with the quiet hum of Christmas tunes in the background. This would be the best Bearman Christmas, ever.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @spidybaby @joaoflms @sakashq @h4vertzz

[xoln04f1xo]

Racing Hearts (Part 2) - OP81

Fluff

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Part 1,

WC: 856

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

The paddock hadn’t quieted down after the session, if anything, it had become more alive. Mechanics bustled around, packing up equipment, while team personnel swapped notes and debriefed strategies. You were supposed to be doing the same, but Oscar’s antics had left your focus in shambles. Thankfully, your best friend wasn’t one to let you spiral.

“You’re staring into space again,” a voice teased, cutting through your thoughts. You turned to see one of the junior engineers grinning at you. “What’s got you so distracted? Let me guess... a certain driver?”

“No,” you replied quickly, too quickly. The heat rising to your cheeks gave you away, but you forced a nonchalant shrug. “Just tired.”

The engineer didn’t seem convinced, but before they could press further, Oscar appeared, freshly showered and dressed in team gear. His damp hair was tousled, and the casual joggers and hoodie combination made him look more approachable than the teasing menace you’d dealt with earlier.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re still here?”

You gestured to the camera strapped around your neck. “Still on the clock.”

Oscar’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Come on, let’s take a walk. You’ve earned a break.”

Your instinct was to argue, there was always more to do, but the way he tilted his head, quietly imploring, made it impossible to refuse.

The two of you wandered away from the main paddock, the noise fading into a distant hum. It wasn’t uncommon for drivers and team members to sneak off for a moment of peace, and you appreciated the reprieve as much as he seemed to. The golden glow of the setting sun painted everything in warm hues, softening the sharp edges of the day.

“You’re quiet,” Oscar noted, glancing sideways at you. “That’s not like you.”

You laughed, though it sounded nervous even to your own ears. “Just trying to figure out how to survive another day without embarrassing myself.”

Oscar’s brow furrowed. “Embarrassing yourself? You’re the most put-together person I know here.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “Have you seen me trip over my own feet trying to avoid stepping on cables?”

“That doesn’t count,” he said, grinning now. “It’s part of your charm. Besides, you’re the one keeping this whole social media thing running. No one else could make us look half as good as you do.”

His words were earnest, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You’d grown used to blending into the background, letting your work speak for itself. Hearing him acknowledge it so directly was... nice.

“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks warm again. “But you’re still trouble, you know.”

Oscar’s laugh was soft, genuine. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

The two of you walked a little further, the conversation flowing more easily now. He told you about the race, the good moments, the tricky ones, and the hilarious miscommunication with his engineer that had him laughing even in the heat of competition. You shared bits about your day, the behind-the-scenes chaos and funny fan interactions that made it all worthwhile.

“I saw that kid with the McLaren flag,” Oscar said, his eyes lighting up. “The one in the grandstands? You got a picture of them, right?”

You nodded. “Of course. It’s already in the edit queue. Thought it might make a good post.”

“You’re the best,” he said simply, the sincerity in his voice making your heart flutter in a way you tried to ignore.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in fiery oranges and soft purples, Oscar stopped and leaned against a low barrier, looking out over the now-quiet track. The moment felt serene, almost fragile, as if the world had paused just for the two of you.

“I don’t say it enough,” he began, his tone thoughtful. “But I’m glad you’re here. It’s easy to get caught up in all this, the pressure, the expectations. But having you around... it makes it feel a little less heavy.”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by his honesty. “I’m glad I’m here too,” you said softly. “Even if you do make my job unnecessarily difficult sometimes.”

Oscar laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. “Wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

“As if that’s even possible,” you retorted, grinning.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, letting the quiet settle around you. It wasn’t awkward or heavy; it was the kind of silence that felt like a shared secret, a bond that didn’t need words.

“We should probably head back,” Oscar said eventually, though he didn’t seem eager to move. “People might start thinking we’ve run off to start our own team or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Imagine the chaos.”

“Pure brilliance, you mean,” he said, flashing you a grin that made your chest feel lighter.

As you walked back together, the paddock lights coming on one by one, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. For the job, for the laughter, and most of all, for the friend walking beside you who somehow made even the busiest, most chaotic days brighter.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

[imhappierthanever]

Where you belong

Snow was falling down as you leant in the frame of your window. You knew she wasn’t coming home and that broke you. Christmas was your favourite time of the year. Even more so now that you had Billie in your life.

You watched families gather in their driveway, wishing each other a Merry Christmas as they hugged and brought gifts in. You closed your eyes, taking in all the smells of Christmas, and whatever your neighbours had been making. You let your body shift to see your tree you put up with all of billies gifts underneath for whenever she would come home. You sighed, feeling sadness consume you. She was all you wanted for Christmas. You just wanted her to come home and hold you, to complete you. To eat the cookies you knew she loved, and do all of her favourite things.

Why did she have to tour at this time of year anyway? You began thinking, tears beginning to sting your eyes as the harsh reality hit. But still, as hopeful as ever, you watched and waited by that stupid window. Hoping you would see her.

Christmas songs played softly in the background as you looked at probably the 5th car that had gone by that hour. You rolled your eyes, pulling your body up to walk away. But just as you were about to, you heard a familiar voice. Your body froze before you pulled yourself out of your thoughts, heading over to the door, reaching for the handle to open it, the cold air immediately hitting you. But you didn’t care as you saw her. Your beautiful girlfriend getting out, not even noticing you yet. She was so concentrated on getting all the gifts she had gotten for you out safely. But when her gaze met yours, your heart instantly melted, happiness completely consuming every fiber of your being.

“Billie!” You exclaimed, running to her, leaving your front door wide opened, not caring in the least bit as she sped up, catching you in her arms, both of you wrapping yourselves around the other. “You came! You’re home!” You said kissing every and any part of her face you could as your legs wrapped around her waist. She giggled feeling ticklish from your sweet butterfly kisses as she held your body tighter.

Snow was falling, as some of the same people you watched with their loved ones earlier now looked at you both, admiring with tears in their eyes at your warm embrace together.

“I wouldn’t miss Christmas with my girl for anything in the world.” Billie said rubbing her nose against yours. “Billie.” You said, completely melting. Not believing for even one second that you had her back in your arms.

“Come on, baby. Let’s go home. I have so much to show you.” She said setting you down on your feet as you laced your fingers together walking her inside. “Do I smell-“ “Cookies! All for you my love.” You said taking her coat off and hanging it up for her before bringing her a plate, settling in her lap.

“You’re truly the best girlfriend ever.” She said wrapping her arms around your waist. “I’m never leaving you again.”

“Promise?” You asked holding out your pinky to seal the deal. “Promise!” She said pecking your lips, reaching for a cookie. This was exactly what you wanted. She was all you ever needed. Just you and Billie, enjoying Christmas together.

a/n: okay, i might be obsessed about the combination of Billie and Christmas ❄️

[sirhamburrger]

a song for you (h. chigiri x gn!reader)

thinking very hard about manshine band au... lead singer!chigiri x drummer!reader... (happy birthday my pretty princess) (manshine reminds me of maneskin lol) wc: 734 || tags/cw: mutual pining, background nagireo, reader normally lives in manchester with the band, idk this was pretty short so not much to tag lol || dividers by @cafekitsune

everyone and their mother knows about your band. manshine, the four-piece musical sensation consisting of lead singer hyoma chigiri, guitarist reo mikage, bassist seishiro nagi, and you, the drummer.

you're on the north american leg of your tour at present, and by this time you've been travelling around the world for half a year or so. you miss your band's hometown of manchester dearly, but at least you have your bandmates - your best friends - by your side.

though, reo and sei do make you feel embarrassingly single with their public displays of affection (offstage, of course, they'd never dare do anything to stir up the tabloids). you boo them when you see them cuddling on hotel room couches, and hyoma joins in, and you all laugh together. they hide it well, but you suspect the fans already knew about 'reonagi' (or 'nagireo', whatever it might be).

but the world doesn't know about the feelings you have for hyoma chigiri.

"are you seeing anyone as of now?" no, you're not. "has the nature of your job made it hard for you to enter a relationship?" oh, yes, certainly, you'll probably never get a partner.

"are you and hyoma together?"

no, you're not, and probably will never be. 

sei and reo hide it well, but you hide it better. 

before every show you get the same sinking feeling. the feeling that hyoma looks thousands of men and women in the eye every night and makes each of them feel like they're the most important person in the world. and yet, as you stare at him from up on your drummer's podium, metres away, you cannot even bring yourself to gaze upon him. like you're not worthy.

tonight, something feels different.

reo is a little more fired up than usual, and even seishiro looks a little more alive today. hyoma is humming softly as you do his hair. his vibrant locks are soft and silky between your fingers as you weave them into little braids on either side of his face.

and the look is his eyes is murky and indecipherable when he turns to you and says: "have i ever told you how much i appreciate you?"

it makes you shiver, not unpleasantly.

band manager and publicist chris prince gives you a big grin and a thumbs-up as the four of you step on stage. he stops you on the way, smiling kindly.

"this is your night," he whispers.

you thank him, though you find it a bit strange that he only says this after six months of touring.

the summer california air is intoxicating, and the band plays through the set list without a hitch. it's second nature to you all by now - you've long passed the point where you get stage nerves. you're buzzing with energy and adrenaline and all that is good in this world - you end the show with a group hug onstage and you are buzzing with energy and adrenaline and them.

but you aren’t expecting hyoma to return to his stage position, picking his acoustic guitar up. sei and reo simply smile on as you look between the three of them, utterly confused.

“this song is for a very special person in my life,” hyoma says, and the crowd goes absolutely wild as your eyes sting with tears. 

he strums the first few chords. you recognise them from the song hyoma’s been working on for the past few weeks in between shows. he was eventually going to send a demo to the producers, but…

he says your name, and the cheers from the audience grow even louder. 

“will you join me?”

… but you’re the only one who knows the lyrics by heart, knows the tune like it’s the blood running through your veins. every strum of the guitar is a strum at your heartstrings.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart.” tears are forming in his deep pink eyes, and you feel your own vision turn blurry as well. “i’ve loved you for many years, but never really had the courage to tell you until now. i wrote this song for you.”

you sniffle, smiling. “that’s fine.”

“so…” he shoots you a hopeful smile, four bars to first verse. “will you sing this song with me?”

and as reo pushes you to stand beside the lead singer, you wonder if chris would tell you off if you were to kiss hyoma right now.

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