#also if you fill out the interest check THANK YOU it is very helpful and means a lot :D

[agent-gladhand]

Hihi! It's been a bit since I've done one of these, running an interest check for merch in the shop for this year!

If you'd be interested in a restock for sold out items in the shop, would like to leave feedback about my works, or have any notes for me, feel free to fill this out, thank you!

Here's also some totally, absolutely not, no way, impossibly unrelated works in progress for potential shop items! (Also nothing new/previews for new merch ideas for Professor Layton or Dungeon Meshi here yet, but I would like to make something for those series so that's also a listed option for those interested).

[froggiewrites]

hi I had another idea for a request! dealer’s choice on the character(s) (but if you’re stuck for an idea maybe law?), but maybe the reader gets hurt in a fight and their (slightly in denial about being in love) future love interest nurses them back to health? can be fluff or smut or whatever you want I’m not picky I just love seeing your words

thank you I still love your work please keep it up

This request is from @toadmakes, on anon since it's her sideblog! I thought this idea was so sweet, so I just made a really fluffy, self indulgent little piece. Also, I let Law be cool last time I wrote about him so of course I had to make him a flustered little nerd in this one. I hope you enjoy it!!

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Law x Reader

SFW

Summary: You get hurt protecting Law, and he's not pleased. Warnings: Fluff, Lots of Banter, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 1.3k

You don’t remember throwing yourself in front of Law, or being carried back to the Tang. You don’t remember the screams of your friends, or the shaking hands that so carefully bandaged you back up. But that’s alright, because they were all too eager to tell you how stupid you had been once you came to.

“–disgustingly irresponsible! Not to mention unnecessary! What good reason could there possibly have been to do that?” Law is the most furious you’ve ever heard him, and you fear it may be because he’s the most scared you’ve ever heard him. You don’t know how close of a call it was, but you know you hurt all over, and his eyes are shining with something someone who didn’t know better might confuse with tears.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You try not to say it like an excuse or a plea. It’s simply fact.

His eyes shoot away from yours. You swear you see a hint of red on his cheeks, but just as quickly as you notice it, it’s gone. He clicks his tongue with displeasure before continuing. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. I could have very easily moved out of the way. You–” he sighs. “Don’t do anything like that again.”

“Well I don’t think I’ll be doing it anytime soon.” You try to give him a wry grin, but it turns more into a grimace as you shift, pain shooting through you. You’re covered head to toe in bandages, every part of you sore and bruised. You’re surprised you’re upright and conscious right now, honestly. “Can I get some painkillers?”

“You’re on enough to take down a horse.”

“But it still hurts.” You pout, and he grits his teeth and looks away from you again.

“Yeah. Almost dying tends to do that.” Even with the gruffness in his voice and face, his hands are gentle as they begin to fuss with your bandages, checking over every inch of you to ensure you’ve been properly taken care of. You could swear he hesitates slightly at checking the bandages around your thighs and chest, but he perserveres, ever the professional. You wince a few times when his hands brush a particularly tender spot, yelping when he makes slight contact with your ribs. He fiddles with the IV in your arm, and you feel a flood of relaxation and relief hit you. Looks like he found a reason to give you more painkillers after all. “You’re going to be out of commission for a long while, y’know.”

“How long?”

“At least six weeks, but probably longer.”

“What?”

“That’s nothing compared to what it could be. You have a couple broken ribs, not to mention all of the cuts and bruises. You’re lucky your organs weren’t crushed.”

“Can’t you like…shambles it away?”

“No.” His voice is flat. You look at him with wide, pleading eyes, and he scoffs at you. “Well, more like I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“If I just fix it you’ll run off and do it again, and next time you might not be so lucky.”

“Oh…so you’re just worried about me?” You giggle, filled with warmth at the idea. And maybe the pain meds. “You could just say so.”

“That’s not–” he lets out a soft choked sound when he realizes there’s no way to deny it without insisting he doesn’t care about you. As grumpy as he can be sometimes, he would never say something so unkind. Not to you. “Shut up.”

“Hey Captain?” You feel your tongue loosening with things you would never say, but you’re too out of it to stop yourself.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me?”

There’s definitely a flush to his cheeks now. “What?”

“I think you like me. A lot.”

“I–No!”

“You don’t like me?” Your voice cracks a little, tears coming far too quickly. Whatever he gave you is powerful stuff.

“That’s not–I–agh!” He roughly runs his fingers through his hair, desperately avoiding eye contact with you. “I like you. As a crewmate.”

You puff your cheeks out a bit with displeasure. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” 

“I’ll believe you if you look at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“You’re looking at the headboard over my shoulder, Captain.”

His eyes flick to yours, and he turns an even more brilliant shade of scarlet. “I li–” His shoulders tense and he suddenly shoots up and turns away from you. “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about this. You’re high off your ass. I bet you won’t even remember this when you wake up tomorrow.” You can see the tips of his ears burning as he gathers his things and prepares to leave.

“You’re gonna abandon me?”

“I have work to do!”

“I’m a patient, I am work!”

His voice is rising with frustration. “You’re already set up, what else is there to do?”

“I don’t know, Captain, I’m not the doctor here!” You try to raise your arm to reach out to him, only to let out a soft whine when you can barely move it.

“Please stop trying to use your broken bones.” He comes closer to gently hold your arm down, concern clear.

“It doesn’t feel broken.”

“It will soon.”

“You’re gonna let me hurt? On purpose? You’re so mean to me, Captain.”

He sighs. His thumb starts rubbing small circles onto your hand, though he doesn’t seem conscious of the action. “If I fix you up, do you promise not to do anything like that again?”

“No.”

The affectionate movements stop. “What?”

“I can’t promise that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m strong, I can take a little pain.”

“But I don’t want you to.” You know you sound petulant and childish, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t want you to hurt at all, I don’t care if you can handle it. You shouldn’t have to.”

“So you should?”

“Yes.”

“That’s stupid.”

You huff. “You’re stupid.”

He can’t help but break into a rare laugh, a chuckle that rumbles through him and makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s lost himself until he looks up to see you staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks red, mouth slightly agape. “What?”

“I really like you, Captain.”

He grows horribly flustered, but for once he doesn’t pull away from you. He keeps looking you in the eye, even as every part of him screams to run and avoid his embarrassment. “You do?” His tone is heart-wrenchingly hopeful.

“I do. So, so much. You’re the most beautiful and wonderful person in the world.” You can feel your smile grow dopey and lovesick. “I’d take a million hits for you. A billion, even.”

“What if it’d make me happier if you didn’t take any hits at all?”

“Then I would say you shouldn’t have let me join your crew. Getting hit is part of the job. But that’s okay. You’re worth it.” You lean forward, begging him for a single touch, since you currently can’t lift your arms. You can feel your eyes drooping, but you fight to keep them open long enough to receive what you want.

He sighs, but you can see the affectionate smile creeping onto his face. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, resting a hand against your cheek so tenderly you could weep. “Get some rest. I’ll fix you up in the morning.”

You hum as he uses his palm to gently push you back down, his other hand on your shoulders to recline you slightly. You’re fading fast, finally losing your fight with sleep, but before you go, you swear you feel the ghost of his lips against your forehead.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[tlou-reid]

as much as he’d hate to admit it, spencer kept a lot of secrets from the team.

some were minor, like how the cardigan jj gave him really was itchy, or how the new coffee machine in the office was significantly harder to clean than the old one, making each cup of coffee slightly more bacteria-filled than the less. other secrets were major, like the time his addiction had taken hold of him or the many social media accounts he had on the smart phone the team had recently found out about.

it’s true. he was on almost every platform, usually under some variation of user17376 and with no icon. but he was still there. he followed exactly one person, who also seemed to be his biggest secret.

you.

he wasn’t even sure if you knew of the vaguely-stalker-esque accounts he created just to keep tabs on you. he could only imagine how hard it would be to keep track of one user, without a name, located in your hundreds of thousands of followers. you might’ve hit one million after your newest single dropped, he hadn’t had time to check.

spencer felt bad stumbling out of your release party. he’d stuck to the back as you did your thank you speeches, excitedly dropping hints to your upcoming album. your relationship with spencer, if it could even be called that, was very private and he intended to keep it that way.

that’s why he was keeping you a secret. obviously. not because he hasn’t truly asked you to be his girlfriend. or because he was too shy to admit he even knew someone as famous as you. or because of his own insecurities telling him that he didn’t deserve you. no, of course not.

after your speeches and singing along to your brand new pop single that dropped at midnight, you did scooch your way to the back to talk to him. spencer’s arm still had goosebumps from where you held it as you laughed at his joke. he was a bit more bold now that he was three fruity drinks in. despite your fame and all of the attention you received, spencer felt comfortable in the hidden depths of your party.

his mind sort of shut off, just enjoying his time with you. every conversation topic was riveting, and he wished he could stay here with you forever.

and then his work phone rang in his pocket. spencer pretended like he didn’t see the small flash of disappointment when he answered it, saying a “hey, jj,” quietly into the speaker. you gave him a quick side hug, and then ran off, knowing he was about to leave.

and here he was, stumbling out of the party, listening to jj’s authoritative voice tell him that he needs to get to quantico asap, bring a go-bag, and meet the team on the jet so they could go over the case.

yikes. right to the jet. must be important.

as he hung up, he looked solemnly into the building your party was in. despite the empty feeling in his chest, he couldn’t help but smile at the pink lights pouring out of the windows.

and off he was to quantico.

the train ride there gave him a lot of time to ponder your interaction with him. sure, it felt like you maybe wanted to be his girlfriend when you were together. you held strong eye contact with him, weren’t afraid of small physical touches, gave him all of your attention, and stood close to him when engaged in conversations. all tell-tale behavioral signs of a crush.

but things never went deeper than surface level. it always seemed like he was catching up with a friend, not flirting with someone who he was interested in. even if he was definitely interested in you. he sighed, realizing that feeling had to stem from you, then. if you were into him, you’d also flirt with him.

so, no matter how many times you invited him to things, or he slept on your velvet couch after a game night with you and a few of your friends, that’s all he’d ever be to you. a friend.

spencer decides to turn his mind off (and his hidden smart phone), opting to bury his nose into a book. he brought a few, just in case.

he doesn’t turn his phone back on until the second night in the dingy motel. he really was trying to give himself space from you. you were infecting his mind, preventing him from thinking clearly and making decisions on the case. he thought one look at your social media might clear his head.

he opened your twitter, seeing only one new tweet. it was a video, captioned ‘been working on this one, hope you like it.’ the video played in the small media player as he inspected it. you were sat criss-cross, an acoustic guitar resting in your lap. your nails were pink, matching your newest single cover.

as he looked closer, he could see the glitter across your collar bones and your slightly-smeared makeup. this was filmed the night of your party. it must’ve been after it, given your disheveled appearance. he couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful you looked.

finally, he opened the video, your beautiful voice filling the room. spencer closed his eyes, trying to listen to the words you were singing.

“i told myself, don't get attached, but in my mind, i play it back, spinning faster than the plane that took you.”

spencer gasped, realizing the similarities to his situation. oh my god oh my god oh my god.

“and this is when the feeling sinks in, i don’t wanna miss you like this. come back, be here. come back, here.”

this song was for him.

read about how popstar!reader and spencer met here <3

[ashwhowrites]

Can you write an Older Neighbor! Perv! Eddie Munson x reader, where she's new in the town and she just moved in right next to Eddie's house, and he sees her the first time and he's like I want her to be my girl, or smth like that, and he's all flirty and all that with her, and they do end up sleeping together, (but he's a perv!) And after some time, they start dating? (Maybe fluff/smut, please? 🥺)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

⚠️pretty smutty, Eddie is very dominant and pushy. Trigger warning - Eddie forced the reader to have sex without a condom ( she likes it ) Eddie is a perv!- keep in mind with his dialogue

Oh neighbor

Eddie had been eyeing the empty house next door. He watched as months and months went by and the house still was up for sale. He didn't care too much for his old neighbor, and he hoped the next one wouldn't be as annoying.

Eddie went for a run every morning. He was older and understood his diet of cigarettes and beer wasn't going to help in the long run. His white tank top clung to his sweaty body as he ran up the hill. His music blasted in his ears as he made it over the hill, his house in view. But also, a moving truck in the next-door driveway. Eddie planned to just go inside. Greeting a new neighbor wasn't something he cared to do. Until he saw the neighbor.

A younger girl, grunted as she carried heavy boxes into her new home. Eddie didn't realize he was standing on the sidewalk, his eyes zoned in on her. And on the way she bent over, giving him a glimpse of her breasts. Eddie couldn't help but feel a twitch in his cock, his hand immediately going down and adjusting.

He smiled when she looked up, her eyes meeting his.

"Hi!" She said excitedly. Her voice was sweet and higher.

"Hi." He said, a smile on his face as she walked closer to him. Her breasts bounced as she moved and Eddie loved it.

"I just moved in, I'm Y/N!" Eddie barely heard her. His focus is on her breasts. His eyes traveled along with the drops of sweat that went down the center of her chest.

"Eddie." He muttered out. "Boyfriend coming to help, or do you need a hand?" He asked.

He felt a sense of pride when she checked him out, her eyes focused on his arms. Eddie may have flexed when he noticed, then enjoyed the way she shyly looked away.

"No boyfriend. Help would be lovely." She said. And Eddie agreed, but her bouncing on his cock would be lovely too.

Eddie kept his word and helped her move everything inside. He stayed to help her put up shelves and other things she needed a hand with. Eddie needed her hand for some help.

Even though it was sweaty and tiring work, he enjoyed sneaking glances at her ass when she'd bend over. Or when she reached up high and her thong poked out from her shorts. And he enjoyed it when she hugged him goodbye and her breasts pushed against his chest.

~~~

After that, they became close friends. Y/N enjoyed spending time with him and drinking some beers as they watched sports. She didn't question Eddie's interest in her or question why he seemed to only spend time with her. She figured he was a friendly neighbor.

But with Eddie, he didn't do anything unless it benefited him. Sure, he liked spending time with her. But more importantly, he wanted to mark her off from the rest of the neighborhood. If a neighbor showed up, he was there behind her with a smirk on his face. The neighborhood was filled with old single men. The only type of people taking up a one-bedroom home, except for the young girls just starting their life. Unaware of the preying eyes that lurk.

"Thanks, gorgeous," Eddie said, taking the cold beer from Y/N's hand. Y/N blushed and looked away. Eddie always had that effect on her. He made her nervous and giddy.

She didn't say anything as she sat next to him, she turned on the TV as the game started. Eddie's arm wrapped around the couch, resting behind her head as she moved slightly into his body. Even though he did it every single time, her heart would skip a beat. Then he'd do this thing where he'd reach down and squeeze her shoulder, then return it to the couch. And Y/N couldn't help but love it.

She wasn't a fan of the male gaze and she always tried to hide from it. But the way Eddie looked at her made her feel unstoppable. He looked at her with so much hunger that it made her shiver. No matter what she wore, his eyes were glued to her. Something about his older eyes and rough hands made her crave him.

~~~

It was the Stanley Cup Final so they decided to go out to the bar to watch it. Y/N stressed for hours about what to wear. It wasn't a date and she knew that. But she'd be damned if his eyes looked at anyone that wasn't her.

She grabbed tight jeans and a jersey. Confidence in her bones as she did her makeup and hair. When she felt loved by the reflection in the mirror, she began her walk to his house. She felt her insides warm when he smiled at her. His smile always gave her butterflies.

"Baby looks sexy." He complimented, a wet kiss on her cheek as he passed her to go out the door. He reached behind him, locking the door. She smiled as she felt the roughness of his beard still on her skin and the wetness of his lips. She blushed at his compliment, happily taking his hand as they walked to the small bar down the road.

It was a small town, and that meant sleazy guys at bars who didn't understand no. Y/N moved closer to Eddie when she felt that male gaze that made her sick. Eddie's arm wrapped around her.

"Fuck off, she's taken." He growled as a guy whistled as they walked into the bar. Y/N smiled at the idea of being taken by him. She wanted him to mean it, but he probably said it to help the men leave her alone. Eddie slipped his hand into her back jeans, and Y/N swore she felt his squeeze a tiny bit. But when she looked at him, his eyes were on the screen.

They sat at the bar for hours, laughing and cheering for their team. A platter of onion rings and cheese curds was in front of them next to their cold beers.

"Gonna run to the bathroom before the last period starts," Eddie said, a kiss planted on her forehead and a ruffle to her hair as he walked past her. Y/N groaned as she fixed her hair. Eddie enjoyed that she was young because he felt like he could treat her young. Y/N found Eddie's age a turn-on, but his teasing was so elementary school. Like when the guy bullies the girl he likes. And she loved it. She wouldn't mind if he yanked her hair and ran away.

Y/N peeled the coating off the onion ring as she watched the commercials. A body next to her caught her attention. A random man sitting there.

"I'm sorry! My friend is sitting there." She said politely.

"Why don't I keep it warm until she's back? Pretty young girl like you shouldn't be left alone." The man said, his finger running down her face. She shivered in fear and moved her face out of his reach. When Eddie called her a young girl, she liked it. But hearing it from a loser at the bar made her feel sick. "Been years since I've had young pussy."

"Okay, not happening. My boyfriend is in the bathroom and he wouldn't like the way you're talking to me, and neither do I. So leave." She said as strongly as she could. Praying the man didn't hear the shakiness in her voice and how her leg bounced.

"But I thought you were with a friend?" The man said, smirking as he caught her lie. "So is it a friend or boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend," Eddie said from behind her. Y/N felt all the air return to her lungs when his voice reached her ears. She looked behind him, a terrified look in her eyes. Eddie felt a twig in his heart at how scared she looked. But also felt a twitch in his cock by the way she looked at him for saving. Her scared puppy eyes.

"So beat it or get your ass kicked. Up to you." Eddie shrugged, his jaw tensed and clenched.

The man held up his arms and went to walk away. "Actually, on a second thought," Eddie said. Y/N was confused until Eddie punched the guy straight across the face.

"That's for thinking about her."

Eddie's hand grabbed hers as he walked them out of the bar.

"We don't have to leave! I'm sure he won't bug us now." Y/N said, she knew it wasn't her fault but she couldn't help but feel guilty about cutting Eddie's night short.

"You being comfortable is more important, we can go to my place and finish the game. Just you and I." He said, his hand slipped into her back pocket again.

Once they made it back to his house, she headed for the couch, but Eddie's hand laced with hers and he walked her to the bedroom. She wasn't sure why. He didn't say a word, just letting her hand go as he began to take off his jersey. She tried to move her eyes away from his toned chest. His chest hair and tattoos. Then his happy trail that traveled down to his jeans.

"Got something there." Eddie teased, his thumb wiped away the imaginary drool at the corner of her mouth. She felt her whole body flame in embarrassment.

"Oh, hush." She said, pretending he didn't get her flustered....again. He didn't stop there, his hands on his belt as he removed his jeans. Y/N gulped as his boxers came into view. More tattoos scattered on his thighs and she tried not to whimper. He was always toned, and his arms were always strong and attractive. But she never thought she could find legs attractive. But the black ink and tight muscles did wonders for his body.

"The game?" She squeaked out, her eyes scanning the room. That's when she realized there wasn't a TV. She didn't have time to be confused, in seconds her back was against the bed and his heavy body was on top of her.

"Mhhm, this is my game." He said, his hand skimming down her body to take off her Jersey. She couldn't help but feel so turned on by the way he took control. She shivered as her skin hit the air. He took in the sight of her bra, before moving down to yank down her jeans. She didn't protest, she wanted this in so many ways.

"Ever since you moved in, I've been dying to know what your beautiful cunt would smell like." His words made her shiver. Anything he said somehow was the most attractive thing she's heard.

She moaned when he bit at the small skin above her panties, then his head moved down. His lips kissed her cunt over her panties. She could feel a wet spot growing. And she whimpered when his tongue flicked the wet spot. She wanted to hide her face in embarrassment.

"Wet and gorgeous." He said into her panties. His lips still left small kisses as his nose inhaled her scent. His nose rubbed her clit and she felt her body twitching.

"Smell so innocent and pure." He growled. His hands yanked her panties to the side as he attacked her cunt. His tongue licked between her folds as his nose kept rubbing her clit. She never had someone attack her cunt with so much need. He ate her like he was starving.

His growling and desperation had her dripping. Of course, his tongue lapped all of it up. Her hands were in his hair as he continued his attack on her cunt. She felt powerless in the best kind of way. Like he was on the hunt for her and she was compelled to lay there and take it all.

"I've thought about this pussy since day one." He said in between breaths, then his lips back on her cunt.

"What about it?" She gasped out. She wasn't sure she ever experienced a man being so captivated by her body. Maybe it was an older guy thing.

She whined when his warm tongue left her, but his fingers replaced his nose as he rubbed her clit.

"How you tasted, how wet you can get. How delicious you smell from miles away." He growled, his words doing things to both of them. His cock was aching in his boxers, but his fingers didn't leave her clit.

"How innocent your cunt would be as I completely drilled myself into you. No mercy on how tight your cunt is. Because now it's mine and I'll do whatever I want with it." He said, his fingers gone from her clit, his hand slamming down to smack her aching cunt. She whimpered loudly, tears spilling down her face as she felt herself pulsing and clenching.

"Fuck, Eddie." She moaned.

"Mr. Munson to you." He said, another slap to her cunt.

She whined as he took out his cock. He was so red, long, and thick. The veins travel to his leaking tip.

"Condom?" She gasped out as his tip teased her clit.

"Nope. I'm gonna fill you to the brim with my cum. You're mine now and not going anywhere." He growled, his hands on the side of her head as he pushed himself into her. He shivered as her cunt clenched around his cock. She cried as he forced his cock fully inside of her. She felt the way he dreamed she would. He enjoyed how tight she was and forced her body to take him.

She was so warm and he wanted to keep his cock in her forever.

"Oh my god." She moaned, his thrusts were fast and hard. The sound of his balls smacking against her skin made her cunt clench. She knew Eddie was a dominant guy, but the way he fucked her for his needs made her want him even more. She loved the idea of being owned by him. The condom was the last night on her mind as she felt every vein in his cock rubbing against her.

"See, so much better raw. I can feel every fucking inch of you. Pretty cunt just gripping me, wanting to keep me inside. Greedy little girl." He teased, a smirk on his lips as he kept his eyes on her.

Her brain barely focused on the words he said, too fucked out. But somehow being called a little girl by him felt like she was being scolded and she was surprised how much she loved it.

"Make me cum, Munson." She begged, her fingers scraping down his back. An animal-like growl left his throat as he felt his skin being carved into it. His fingers worked perfectly on her clit, she came with a loud whimper. Her back pushed off the bed as her chest smacked into his. His arm wrapped around her, holding her against him as he fucked into her. He moaned as he felt his pubic hair soaked in her.

"Look at that mess you made." He mocked, yanking her hair and forcing her to see his drenched hair and how wet his cock looked slipping inside of her.

"Squirted all over me." He smirked, his lips crashing down on hers as he emptied himself inside of her.

~~~

A week passed after the best night of her life. And in the best way possible, Eddie was more obsessed with her. She was claimed as his and he made sure to show everyone.

At the grocery store? The second she bent over, his hand gripped her ass. No care about the older couple that gasped and ran.

Getting gas? He had her pressed against the car with his tongue in her mouth.

She lost all control around him. She found herself doing things she never thought she'd do. He had her bent over her car in daylight in the middle of the driveway.

Had her quietly screaming as his fingers pounded inside of her at the movie theater.

"I love you." He whispered into her ear, his arm wrapped around her as they rested in his bed.

"I love you." She said, resting her eyes. Half way asleep until she felt his cock entering her again for the fourth time that night.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[critrolestats]

New Blood, Old Regards

Thanks to @eyeofthenewt1 for this art piece!

Greetings! Although the Stats Team is still in a state of retirement, we’ve periodically updated several of our Campaign 3 Running Stats categories and galleries thanks to the efforts of a new team of data collectors. This team, consisting of Archivists Astral, Ethereal, Fey, and Shadow, have been preparing since the beginning of the year to launch their own site, and that day has come! With that, we’re pleased to present:

The Omen Archive

Although they have been providing CritRoleStats updates for our Campaign 3 records, their site will be its own thing with its own tools, toys, and focuses, such as graphics derived from their own databases of data. Please visit them at their website, reach out to them, and check them out on their various social media pages:

Website: https://www.omenarchive.com/

Twitter/X: https://twitter.com/omenarchive

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/omenarchive.bsky.social

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/omen_archive/

Tumblr: https://omenarchive.tumblr.com/ ( @omenarchive )

CritRoleStats will continue to update our databases and running stats pages with the data we receive from the Omen Archive until the end of the campaign, so that anyone from academics to casual fans have access to a complete catalogue of three campaigns worth of data. After that, our site will be completely (accessibly) archived, and our legacy will be carried on entirely by projects like the Omen Archive.

Thanks Are In Order

Outside of our final livecast, we realize we went out without the proper thanks to the community members who helped us grow. We’d like to take this opportunity to give credit where we feel it’s due.

We’d like to thank the team at Critical Role for their support over the years, with special thanks to Dani Carr for both her wonderful spirit, tenacious work ethic, and the marvelous send-off she gave us.

We’d like to thank the creators in the community. Thank you to the artist community for letting us feature your wonderful talent to give vibrancy to the numbers and words we’ve filled. Thank you to the information gathering community, from the wiki workers to the meta analysts, for giving your time to help make Critical Role more accessible. Thank you to the academics for finding value we didn’t know we had in our work. Thank you to everyone who creates in this community, whether your medium is music, words, stats, or art; whether you share for a large audience or for the joy of your private home or table; whether you encourage others with high presence, or quietly inspire and support from the shadows. Your creation makes the world a more interesting place.

We’d like to thank both our patrons and our Ko-Fi supporters for allowing us to carry on for as long as we have, and to make sure our work can continue to reach those who want to be informed and inspired. Thank you to our regular visitors, as well; traffic is supportive in several ways!

Thank you to those who have been with us, whether it’s the very beginning, sometime in the middle, or even if you’re tuning in just now. Your patronage and your expression of value in our work has been a blessing. (Thanks for the 1d4.) We’d also like to thank everyone who has continued to visit the site in spite of the lack of regular content creation on our part, and are grateful that so many of you are still finding use in the previous campaigns’ worth of data, as well as the current one.

We love you all very much. Now, back to retirement!

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 12

content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food

word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.

It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.

He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.

He’s exhausted all of his options.

The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.

Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.

The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.

Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.

GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.

His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.

Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.

His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.

Just a few more sprints to go.

GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.

“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.

“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.

Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”

Miguel snorted.

GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.

This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.

If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.

Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.

Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?

Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”

Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”

The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.

They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.

It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.

GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.

“So,” she started.

“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“

“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Miguel.”

“Xina.”

“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”

Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.

“I miss her.”

“Miss who? Your mom?”

“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”

It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.

Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”

Miguel nods.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”

“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”

“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”

“No, I don’t think that.”

Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.

“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”

“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.

“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”

Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.

“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”

Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”

“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”

GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.

He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.

“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”

GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.

Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.

“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”

“You just want a reason to not do your work.”

Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”

She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.

“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.

The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.

Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.

“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.

Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I doubt it.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.

He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.

He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.

That’s when he sees you.

He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.

The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.

He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.

A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.

“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.

“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.

“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.

“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.

“Who is this?”

GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.

He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.

“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”

“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“

“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”

“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.

A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.

You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”

“Amor…”

Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”

“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”

“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”

“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”

Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”

“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”

“I said I was sorry about that!”

GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.

“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.

When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.

“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Neither did she!”

Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”

Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.

GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.

They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.

“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.

“Like I do anything else, with peace.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”

“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”

“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”

Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.

GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.

He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.

You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.

You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.

“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.

Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”

GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.

He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.

Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.

Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.

“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.

You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”

You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”

Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.

The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.

It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.

The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.

Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”

“Boring.”

“Beautiful.”

He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.

“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”

The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.

“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.

She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”

“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”

Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”

“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.

“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.

“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”

“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”

You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.

Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.

“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”

GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.

“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.

“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”

“Need me to drive you back?”

“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”

Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.

He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.

“Will I see you again soon?” Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”

“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”

“Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.

“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”

Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.

“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.

Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.

Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”

“You’re really annoying me today.”

Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.

“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”

“No.”

“Why not? It could be fun!”

“I’m all partied out until next year.”

“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”

“That’s robo rockstars to you.”

Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.

“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”

Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.

Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.

“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”

“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”

Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”

“This isn’t helping me.”

GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”

“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”

“Just answer the question, mijo.”

Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.

“Yeah.”

Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”

“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)

“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)

“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)

Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”

“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.

Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.

Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.

“Baby”

“Let’s do something together on your bday”

Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.

“YES”

“YEESSSS”

“Best birthday ever already”

“Someone’s excited”

“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”

“What are we doing”

“Tell me please”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Mmm”

“No”

“It’s a secret 🙂‍↔️”

“I can wait”

“That you are”

“Sometimes”

“😗”

“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”

“Oh”

“Should we raincheck then?”

“NOOOOOO!”

“I can do both”

“I’ll literally split myself in two”

“You don’t have to choose”

“My gift is small”

“I want you to have fun on your special day”

“Can you come to the party?”

“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”

“If anything it’ll be much later”

“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”

“Good night bebé”

“Night!”

"Love you"

“Love you more"

divider by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.

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[willieverseetheland]

jingle bells.

spencer reid x fem!reader summary: spencer gets a little too tipsy at the office christmas party.

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, language, spencer being a dork

fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers

I know christmas has been over, I just felt inspired.

wc: 1.4k

You've always loved Christmas. It wasn't the holiday itself; it was how it brought people together. Everything just feels so cozy and bright. So when Penelope asked you to help her decorate for the party, you were more than happy to do so.

Although your job can be very depressing at times, the office environment is truly amazing. Everyone is so kind. You couldn't ask for better coworkers. However, there's one fellow profiler you've grown rather close with these past few months.

Spencer Reid was one of the first people you became friends with at the BAU, other than Penelope of course. He's such a good friend, and always seems to be genuinely interested in what you have to say. He notices the little things, like when you were always complaining about your feet being cold, so he bought you fuzzy socks. Or when he overheard you talking to Emily about how badly you wanted this decorative plate set for your new apartment, and he got it for you for your birthday. He's truly the best friend a girl could ever ask for. But recently you've been wondering if it's only platonic love that you feel. Could it be more than friendship? You find yourself putting extra effort into your appearance, but you just chalk it up to wanting to better yourself. You have also noticed how when you shop, you choose clothes you think he might like.

Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if he feels the same way. Does he lie in bed at night thinking of your voice and laughter the way you think of him? Does he get flustered when your knees brush together during debriefs? Does he get that fluttery feeling in his stomach when you lock eyes from across the room?

Now that you're thinking about it, you really fucking like him. You feel like a teenager with a schoolgirl crush. God, how could you let this happen? You know that co-worker relationships rarely work out. But you're an adult, you can be mature about it, right?

You snap out of your daydream and realize its already 6:00. The party starts in an hour, and you only have a quarter of what you need to do done.

"Hey Penelope, think we could get some Christmas music going? I work faster with music playing!"

"It's like you read my mind y/n!"

The sound of bells fills the room and suddenly you find yourself feeling very festive. You hear Penelope humming along.

You work quickly to get the last of the lights and tinsel strung up. You wish it could look like this year-round. You check your watch. 6:53. Everyone should be arriving soon.

You hear the elevator ding and see Derek walk out with a plate full of what is most definitely store-bought cookies.

"Wow, you ladies really outdid yourselves."

"Hello Derek and thank you" you smile.

People begin to arrive one-by-one. Emily, JJ, Hotch, and Rossi. Everyone says their hellos and get settled. Some make their way to the booze faster than others.

It's 7:25 and Spencer isn't here yet. You feel a pit begin to form in your stomach. You were really hoping to see him tonight. You decide to grab yourself a drink and socialize, take your mind off of him. He'll show up eventually, right?

"Y/N! Hey! Where's your other half?" Emily chuckles and raises her eyebrows. You can tell she snuck a few shots in the elevator.

"I assume you mean Spencer. Not sure actually." So much taking your mind off of him. And what did she mean by other half? It's not that obvious right?

You scan the room, hoping to see Spencer, but you don't. However, you do catch Rossi getting rather comfortable with new forensic photographer.

You finish your drink and wander off to get another. Looking at your watch you see that it's 7:47. You're starting to feel a little hopeless. But right as you turn to rejoin the party, you see him. Those big brown eyes and fluffy hair.

"Hey Y/N, sorry I'm late. I had to go pick up some last-minute gifts."

Weight falls off of your shoulders at the sound of his voice. You feel overwhelming relief now that he's here. You had spent the last hour, or at least what felt like an hour, with your jaw clenched and a heavy feeling in your stomach. You hate feeling this way. You know you need to talk to him, but you don't want to screw up a good thing.

"It's alright Spence, I'm just glad you're here now." You give him a warm smile and place your hand on his shoulder.

He gives you his classic dorky smile in return, and you feel those all too familiar butterflies swell in your stomach.

As the night goes on, the wine flows and sounds of laughter fills the room. You stay by Spencer's side practically the whole night. Now you understand what Emily meant. You notice he's had quite a bit to drink. Definitely not more than Rossi, but more than usual. You feel like he's being more playful and affectionate as well. But you assume it's just the alcohol. You desperately hope he's flirting, but you don't want to look too far into it.

Your thoughts quickly dissolve into the air as the room goes silent and Rossi's rather loud voice announces it's time to exchange gifts. You give out your gifts and accept the ones given to you. You receive a cinnamon roll scented candle from Emily, a pair of heart shaped earrings from Penelope, a fuzzy blanket from JJ, and various trinkets and gadgets from others. Spencer hands you a slender box wrapped in shiny blue snowflaked wrapping paper.

"I wonder what this could be." You raise your eyebrow playfully and give a small laugh.

You carefully tear off the wrapping paper and open the box. Inside is a necklace with small heart shaped locket.

"Go ahead, open the locket." he has a drunken grin, and his eyes are eager.

You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Spencer from your birthday. You feel a warmth spread over your face and you can't help but smile.

"Oh my god Spencer, this is- thank you so much, really." You pull him into a tight embrace. Relishing in the feeling of his arms around you for just a moment. You pull away, smile faltering slightly.

"Would you walk with me? Outside? It's really warm in here." His eyes are glassy and his cheeks are a rosy pink. His drinks have definitely caught up with him now. No wonder he feels warm.

"Of course, are you feeling okay?" you ask with sincerity.

"Yeah, there's just a lot of noise. Just need some fresh air s'all."

You two slip out into the crisp, December night. The sky's clear so you can see the stars. Your breath creates mini clouds in the night air.

You look over at Spencer and wonder what's going on inside that brilliant brain of his. You've always been so fascinated by the way he thinks.

"You look so beautiful right now. I-I mean you always do, but in this moment you..." his voice trails off like he has more to say, but doesn't know if he should say it.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You let out a quiet laugh.

You can hear carolers singing jingle bells in the distance.

You glance up at him and see that he's looking at you. His eyes reflect the full moon. There's a sadness in his eyes but also an admiring, soft expression.

"y/n."

"Yeah, Spencer?" You place your hand on his forearm. His mouth opens and closes slightly like he doesn't know if he should say what he's about to say.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, y/n." his voice is soft and trembling ever so slightly. His eyes jump across your face, searching for a reaction.

You feel like your brain might short circuit. You're overwhelmed with emotion. You feel a sting as your eyes prick up with tears.

"Spencer, I don't know what to say." You see his smile fade and fear that may have been poor choice of words.

You decide maybe words won't do how you feel justice.

You step closer to him, placing your right hand on his cheek and the left just below his jaw. You breathe in deeply and pull his face to yours. You place a soft kiss on his lips. He then grabs the sides of your face deepening the kiss. You feel heat creeping up your neck, and the whole world feels as though it's melting away.

You pull away, catching your breath. He looks starstruck, like he can't believe what just happened. And honestly, you can't either. You almost want to ask him to pinch you.

"I love you too, Dr. Spencer Reid."

[unabashegirl]

my best friend's dad | part 2

/N and Scarlett Styles are best friends in college. They share everything even their plans for Spring Break. They have a trip to Bahamas planned. Everything takes a turn when Scarlett is unable to fly, and Y/N is forced to coexist and interact with Scarlett's dad.

Author's note: I initially decided not to post this part on Tumblr, but people began having issues with me because of that decision. I received rude messages in my inbox, but I'm going to posting it—not because of the rude messages, but because my Patreon subscribers asked nicely for another part. I want to be very clear: I WILL NOT BE POSTING THAT PART ON TUMBLR. No matter how many insults I receive in my inbox, this will not change. i hope you enjoy.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all the one shots and much more :) thank you beforehand!

word count: 2.4K

warnings: smut

part 1

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Harry, determined to keep a respectful distance from Y/N after that morning’s perverted thoughts. He dressed in a freshly washed swimsuit and headed straight for his studio, a serene space filled with natural light and a calming view of the beach and pool below. The sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing background as he settled in at his drawing table.

He immersed himself in his work, focusing intently on finalizing the layouts for the new building project. The creative process helped clear his mind, and he found solace in the familiar rhythm of sketching and planning. Occasionally, he glanced out onto the balcony, where he could see Y/N below, absorbed in her book.

She looked peaceful, the morning sun casting a soft glow around her. He noticed her occasionally reaching for a piece of fruit from a bowl beside her, her expression content as she turned the pages. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight.

By midday, Harry had completed the layouts he set out to finish. He stretched his arms and stood up, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Glancing out at the balcony once more, he caught Y/N turning herself onto her chest and untying the top of her blue bikini. She slipped on the top and threw it beside the sunbed. She was topless and Harry tried to hold his composure.

“How is Bahamas?” Jeff, Harry closest friend asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

“It’s fine” Harry responded as he sat down and took off his reading glasses.

“It doesn’t sound like it. How is Scar?”

Harry sighed, knowing Jeff could read him like a book. "Scar's doing well," he admitted, leaning back in his chair and glancing out at the tranquil ocean view from his study. "But... there's something else."

"What's going on, mate?" Jeff's voice held concern.

Harry hesitated, unsure how to articulate the conflicting emotions he'd been grappling with since Y/N arrived. "It's Y/N," he finally confessed. "She's Scarlett's friend, and she's... she's a guest here."

Jeff remained silent, sensing there was more to Harry's unease.

"I find myself thinking about her more than I should," Harry admitted quietly. "She's smart , funny, and..." he trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the attraction he felt.

"You've got it bad, haven't you?" Jeff said knowingly.

Harry chuckled ruefully. "It's complicated. She's much younger, and I shouldn't be thinking about her like this."

"Maybe it's just a crush," Jeff suggested gently. "It'll pass."

"I hope so," Harry murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I just need to focus on work and keep my distance."

"Or you could test the waters. What if she's also interested?" Jeff suggested, knowing that his friend always played it safe and never ventured into morally gray areas. He believed Harry needed to embrace life more, and perhaps Y/N was the catalyst he needed.

Harry sighed again, torn between Jeff's suggestion and his own reservations. The idea of pursuing something with Y/N was both exhilarating and unsettling. He valued Scarlett’s feelings and didn't want to jeopardize them or make things awkward between them.

"I don't know, Jeff," Harry finally replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "She's Scarlett's best friend, and there's an age difference..."

Jeff interrupted gently, "You can't control who you're attracted to."

Harry nodded slowly, considering Jeff's words. He knew his friend meant well and understood his perspective, but the thought of complicating things weighed heavily on his mind. He had always been cautious, preferring to maintain boundaries and avoid unnecessary risks.

"I just don't want to mess things up," Harry admitted quietly, his gaze drifting back to the view outside. The ocean shimmered under the afternoon sun, a peaceful contrast to the turmoil in his thoughts.

Jeff nodded understandingly. "I get it. Just see how things unfold. You'll figure it out."

As they ended the call, Harry leaned back in his chair once more, reflecting on their conversation. He knew he needed to tread carefully, balancing his growing feelings with his respect for Scarlett and Y/N’s feelings too. He just wasn’t sure if he just wanted to sleep with her or something else.

Harry hadn't been in a relationship for years. He had devoted his time to work, ensuring his daughter had a comfortable life. If he thought about it that way, he felt he deserved to have some fun. However, he still didn't know if Y/N felt the same way toward him.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Harry?" It was Y/N, holding a bowl of fruit. Her hair was wet but pulled back by her sunglasses. Harry noticed she was already getting a bit sunburned and looked tanner than she had just three days ago. "I just thought you might like a snack," she said sheepishly.

Harry smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Y/N. That's very kind of you," he said, standing up and walking over to her. He took the bowl of fruit from her and placed it on his desk.

"So, this is where the magic happens," she said with a grin, walking over to the drawing table.

"Yep, this is it," Harry replied, his heart racing slightly at her presence. "Come, take a look.”

He led her to the table, where his latest project was spread out. Y/N leaned in, her shoulder brushing against his as she examined the intricate designs. Harry could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, and he fought to keep his focus on the work in front of them.

“Oh! Look at that” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. “The detail is breathtaking”.

"Thanks," Harry said, his eyes flicking to her face.

As Harry explained his vision for the project, he couldn't help but notice how close they were standing. The small studio felt even smaller with her beside him, and the tension between them was palpable. He tried to keep his voice steady, but the proximity was making it difficult.

At one point, Y/N reached out to touch a section of the blueprint, her fingers lightly grazing his hand. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he glanced up to find her watching him intently. The air seemed to thicken around them, and for a moment, the world outside the studio ceased to exist.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to dispel the growing tension. "So, um, that's the main living area," he said, pointing to the layout on the paper.

They stood there, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. Harry's mind raced, torn between the desire to close the gap between them and the need to maintain the boundaries he'd set for himself. He could see the same conflict in Y/N's eyes, and it only intensified the pull he felt toward her.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence. "I should let you get back to work," she said, stepping back slightly, though her eyes lingered on his.

Harry nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. “I was thinking of taking a break and going for a swim. Do you want to come?”

She gave him a small, smile. “Yeah”.

They both made their way out of the studio and down the path towards the private beach. The sun was burning hot as it neared lunch hours, and the air was filled with the sounds of seagulls and the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. The crew was starting to prepare the table for lunch, setting out plates and utensils under the shade of a large umbrella.

As they walked, the soft sand crunching beneath their feet, Harry stole glances at Y/N. She looked radiant in her bikini, her skin glowing under the sunlight. He felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

They waded into the water together, the cool waves lapping at their legs. Harry couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration as they moved deeper into the ocean, the water enveloping them in its refreshing embrace. The sun glinted off the surface, creating a dazzling display of light and color.

As they swam, Harry found himself drawn to Y/N, their laughter and playful splashes creating a sense of intimacy and connection. They floated on their backs, gazing up at the clear blue sky, the worries and tensions of the world seeming to melt away.

"I think my face is getting burned," Y/N said as she stood up near the shore, the water lapping at her waist. Harry swam over to her, concern in his eyes. He stood up beside her, leaning in to check on her more closely.

"Let me see," he said softly, his voice full of genuine concern. As he leaned closer, his eyes scanned her face and cheeks, which were definitely flushed from the sun. The close proximity made Y/N's heart race, but she couldn't help staring at his lips, her breath hitching slightly.

Harry noticed her gaze, and his heart pounded in response. He could see the nervous anticipation in her eyes, and it was all the confirmation he needed. Slowly, deliberately, he closed the gap between them, his eyes locking onto hers.

She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. "Harry," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.

Taking a deep breath, Harry gently cupped her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing lightly against her sun-kissed skin. The world seemed to stand still as he leaned in, his lips finally meeting hers in a tender, lingering kiss.

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she responded, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but quickly grew more passionate as they both gave in to the emotions they'd been holding back. The warm ocean water swirled around them, adding to the sense of intimacy and connection.

Harry's hands wrapped around her waist as the waves nudged them deeper into the water. With the sea current interrupting their kiss, Harry lifted her off the ground. Y/N instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, holding on tightly.

Their lips met again with renewed passion, the sensation heightened by the cool water surrounding them. Harry's grip on her tightened, anchoring her against him as the waves swayed them gently. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

Harry kisses her again but the softness if gone and now there is a sense of urgency. Y/N lips moved to his jaw and then to the side of his neck. Harry hand coming to grip her jaw to stop her.

“Are you sure?” He asked, not wanting to take advantage of her. She was younger and with less experience than him. The last thing he wanted to do was to pressure her into having sex. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t want”

“I want to” Harry didn’t question her any further. Perhaps because of his own selfish reasons. He untied her top and released her breasts, he tend to them, putting one of them in his mouth as his other hand massaged the other. He bit her softly, earning a whine from her.

“Harry” she moaned as she watched him devour her breasts. His hot mouth against her cold skin was a different sensation. Y/N was surprised that she had deliberately agreed to have sex at the beach, in the ocean. However, the desire was too intense to make it back to the house.

Y/N’s feet started pushing his swimming trunks off his body wanting to feel and see him.

“This is wrong” Harry said as he started to make his way out of the water and towards the shore with her still wrapped around him.

“So wrong” Y/N said as he laid her down on damp sand. Harry’s hand went to her sides and untied the sides of her bikini. Something had taken over him. He was ravenous for her.

“Spread your legs baby. Wider” His face was quickly buried between her legs.

“What if someone see us?” She asked though it quickly converted into a moan as Harry pressed his tongue on her, his nose brushing her clit. Harry hummed at the taste of her, she still tasted salty from the ocean water.

“Just like I imagined it” His finger drawing circles over her clit as he continued licking her and sucking her sensitive folds. “Don’t cum yet. I want to be in you when you do” he warned, his English accent raspier that usual.

“Then fuck me” Y/N begged, to which almost made Harry cum in his swimming trunks. It was such a stark contrast from who had arrived a few days ago. His hands frantically pulled down his swimming trunks. Harry’s head teased her entrance for a second before he sunk into her. He filled her up completely and for a second Y/N was worried that she wouldn’t be able to take it.

“God” She whined, throwing her head back, her hair getting covered with sand. Harry stayed still as he allowed her to adjust. He also needed a second at the newfound sensation.

“Fuck” he groaned as he pulled out of her and back into her. Her wet walls around him clenched up, as she looked at him drunken eyes. “You are so tight”.

She was overheated. The sun, the hot sand, and the way he looked at her as he pounded into her was too much. They were starting to get sticky. Harry hands gripped her hips, helping him to keep the constant pace.

“Cum f’me” he exhaled between thrusts as he felt her clench around him. Harry watched her come undone as she whimpered his name over and over again. Harry followed right after her before dropping right beside her.

Y/N looked over at him as they both tried to recuperate after their orgasms. She could see his skin covered with sweat and salt from the ocean and he still managed to look incredibly attractive.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy” He said with a smirk with his eyes still closed.

She didn't feel an ounce of regret...yet.

part 3 | sneak peek

[something-tofightfor]

To: You, From: Santa (1)

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,952

Summary: Participating in the office Secret Santa exchange shouldn't be nervewracking ... but when Tim Rockford is involved, that changes.

Rating: M, just for language though.

Author's Note:

I meant to have this done for Christmas in July, but didn't... so have my annual cheesy Hallmark Christmas story for actual Christmas instead. Also, it was supposed to be like 6 k max, and now it's pushing 17. whoops.

This is not connected to Black Days. Reader works in Tim's precinct, but not as a fellow officer/detective. I have no idea how the actual evidence rooms work, so suspend disbelief here a little when it comes to chain of custody, please and thank you.

Part 2 is completed and scheduled to post on Wednesday, December 18.

Thanks for reading!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

He was paid to figure things out, but Detective Tim Rockford was stumped when it came to choosing a gift. 

He’d happily joined the department’s Secret Santa exchange, filling out the form with his name and his interests along with a few gift suggestions - just like everyone else. And he’d hoped that whatever name he’d drawn would be a simple buy - a gift card or a pair of thick socks or even a bottle of wine or chocolates, like it was every year. 

But the moment he’d unfolded his chosen name, Tim had known that things wouldn’t be that easy. Because he hadn’t drawn Betty in accounting or David in dispatch. It wasn’t as simple as getting his partner’s name and cutting the season’s gift buying number down by one. 

Instead, Tim had drawn your name … and that was a problem - which meant that he’d need to take drastic measures to solve it. 

Your job was typically an easy one, with long lulls between in person interactions. 

As an evidence officer for the police department precinct, you had it good. It was a lot of paperwork, but it was easy, and it meant that you could zone out and listen to music for the majority of your shift. It was much better than the last assignment you’d had, and despite the difficult situations many of the people that came to see you were in, they were usually pleasant enough. 

Especially Tim Rockford. 

He had a reputation for being a hard-ass, but whenever he came down to see you, he was nothing but friendly. You assumed that it had to do with the fact that without you - and your help - his job would have been much more difficult, but you liked to pretend that that wasn’t the case. 

You also liked to think about what it would be like to see him in normal circumstances. 

You imagined sitting in the courtyard with him, talking about things that had nothing to do with police work or evidence, his glasses discarded on the table beside him as he leaned in closer. Other times, you let yourself daydream about seeing him at a bar or a restaurant, or even a store, and the two of you conversing without a time limit.

But in reality, you’d never said more than a few words at a time to him outside of work requirements - nothing more in-depth than a hey, how’s it going? or a have a good weekend, get some sleep. Because if there was one thing you knew about Detective Tim Rockford, it was that when he was at work, he was focused. 

It was why he had the second highest close rate in the county. It was why other departments and divisions turned to him for help, sending over files and evidence that you needed to check in and out to him. It was one of the reasons why you’d chosen to admire him from afar for the year that you’d worked with him. 

You heard the rumors about his dating life, because the other women in the department liked to gossip. In the rare moments you were up on the main level of the building, you’d glimpsed him interacting with other officers and employees, his lips quirked into a small smile as his attention was focused on them. You had a feeling that he could truly turn on the charm when necessary, and while part of you was very interested in finding out exactly what being the focus of that felt like, you knew that it was probably a terrible idea at the same time. 

So you kept to yourself for the majority of your day, ensuring that the evidence logs were organized and everything was accounted for. 

You talked to the people that came down for various reasons, and helped them find things when it was necessary. 

You did your job and did it well, the praise coming in emailed memos from your bosses and coworkers, and in the form of treats like cups of good coffee and snacks from some of your favorite local places left at your window or handed directly to you across the counter.

It made the days go faster, and it gave you a chance to get to know some of the men and women that relied on you at the same time. Which meant that it didn’t surprise you when Amy, one of the dispatch girls, came up to you in the break room one day just after Thanksgiving, shaking a small box back and forth. 

You were thrilled to participate in the Secret Santa exchange, and looked forward to shopping for whoever you picked from the remaining names - until you unfolded the paper and saw familiar handwriting scrawled across the different sections. 

It was just your luck that out of about 50 possible matches, you’d pulled Tim Rockford’s name. 

You had one headphone in and were scrolling through your phone, a half eaten bag of chips on the table in front of you when you heard his voice. “Can I sit?” Glancing up, your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Tim Rockford standing just beside your table, a grease-spotted paper bag in one hand. “All the other tables are full.”

“Sure.” Nodding, you gestured to the chair in front of him. “I’m almost done anyway, so you’ll have it to yourself soon.” You still had nearly 20 minutes before you needed to be back downstairs, but the truth was that you didn’t know if you trusted yourself to be in his presence for that long, or if you’d be able to make coherent conversation with him if he was interested in talking. 

Because that day, Tim was a little more disheveled than usual, his hair messy and tie loosened so that the top button of his shirt could be undone. You liked the way it looked - probably a little too much - and didn’t want what would likely be the longest conversation you’d ever had ruined by your awkwardness about the peek of skin at his throat. 

He unpacked the bag, pulling out a white container that you recognized as from the preferred Chinese restaurant for most of the department. It was followed by a small plastic tub of wonton soup. “This is probably the first time in weeks I’ve gotten to eat while my food’s still the right temperature.” 

“Yeah?” You pulled the earbud out, sliding it back into the case and snapping it shut. “No cases to crack?”

“We actually just wrapped one up,” he started to speak while he opened the container, dumping in the bag of crispy noodles that had come with it. “The Boulton case? That old lady who -”

“Oh, the one that killed her husband all those years ago?” Tim noded, carefully stirring the soup before lifting a spoonful to his lips. “It’s done? I wondered why you hadn’t come to visit me in the evidence room lately.” 

“It’s done.” He confirmed with a nod, eyeing you over the rims of his glasses. “Made the final arrest this morning, and now we wait for the trial.” 

“Congrats, Detective.” You raised your drink in salute, giving him a smile. “That had the whole department stumped.” 

“It did. We were all going in fucking circles.” He chewed, nodding as he narrowed his eyes and looked at you thoughtfully. “And there’s plenty more for me to work on, but I decided …” He leaned in, grinning. “Fuck it, I’m taking the rest of the day to myself.” 

It was officially the longest conversation that you’d had with Tim, but you’d already learned something valuable to you - and your search for the right gift for him. And it’s got to do with his food preferences. “And yet you’re still here, eating take out, and -”

“I’m observing.” He wrinkled his nose. “I have to figure out what to get my Secret Santa, and I’m not going to do that by going home.” He pointed at the door, shaking his head. “I’ve already done my rounds and talked to a few people, asked a couple questions.”

“Who do you have?” Leaning back in your chair, you cocked your head to the side. “Maybe I can help. I’m in here a lot and -”

“I can’t tell you that.” He took a bite of rice, rolling his eyes. “Defeats the whole purpose of a secret Santa, hmm?” It did, he was correct, but you’d still had to try. “Who do you have?” 

“If you’re not telling, I’m not telling.” Eating one of the chips, you scowled at him. “It’s only fair.” Plus I want to see if I can figure something out for you that isn’t a gift card or a magazine subscription. He laughed again, returning to his food. “Why don’t you just get one of the things they asked for? We all filled out three suggestions, so that makes it simple.” 

“I’m a detective.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, staring at you. “I should be able to figure out something that’s not a standard $25 gift.” 

“I have faith in you.” You finished your drink, twisting the cap back onto the bottle and setting it down. “I’ve seen the way you go through evidence. And you’ve still got like two and a half weeks.” 

“I do.” He sighed, rubbing a hand against his jaw. “And now that I’m not thinking about this case 25/8, maybe I’ll have time to figure it out.” That made you laugh, and after a few seconds Tim joined you, the sound of it filling your chest with warmth. “At least tell me this.” He crossed his arms and then tapped his finger a few times against his bicep. “Are you buying them something that they put on the list?”

“I hope not.” Giving him a onceover, you shrugged. “Nobody puts personal things on these damn lists, though. It’s all ‘candy’ or ‘a gift card’ or ‘fuzzy socks’ or ‘lottery tickets’.” You checked the time, sighing as you realized your break was almost over. Get one more question in. “What did you put on your list, Tim?” 

He pressed his lips together and then reached up, taking his glasses off and setting them on the table before he rubbed at his eyes. “Lottery tickets, a gift card to the grocery store by my house and the first throw blanket that came up when I searched Amazon because my feet get cold when I lay on my couch and watch movies.” You tried to hold back your laugh and failed, because even though you’d known that those things were on his list, hearing him say them was amusing. “I know. It’s a shitty list, but me telling my family what I want is just as bad.” 

“You just want to win the lottery so you can quit your job.” He chuckled, his smile soft and his deep brown eyes glittering in the fluorescent lighting. No one should look that fucking handsome in this lighting. No one.

“But if I quit my job, I won’t have lunch breaks like this one to look forward to.” You sighed, pushing to your feet and gathering your trash so that you had an excuse not to meet his eyes. He’s not flirting. He can’t be. “Time to go back?”

“Yeah, I’m going to turn into a pumpkin unless I get back to the evidence locker on time.” He snorted, poking his fork into the container again, though he didn’t look away from you. “Have a good rest of your relaxing day, Detective Rockford.” 

He assured you he would, nodding once before you turned away and headed for the door. You were proud of yourself for holding an actual conversation and not making a fool of yourself. You’d even made him laugh without trying too hard. All in all, things could have gone much worse. 

The only problem was that that single conversation had turned your manageable crush on Tim into a full-blown interest, and you didn’t know how to deal with that. 

Over the next few days, Tim turned his attention to other cases, painstakingly making his way through information that he’d previously collected and trying to see if there were things he’d missed. He found a new clue here and there, adding information to the files and making a few phone calls to talk to witnesses and others that had been involved. He even made a couple appointments to meet with people, scheduling them out so that he had time to prepare. 

But he hadn’t made his way down to the evidence locker at any point, because there’d been no need to. And that disappointed him, because after the conversation you’d had in the break room, Tim wanted to talk to you more. 

He’d gotten no good ideas from you for your gift, which was to be expected. That didn’t mean he hadn't learned anything, though. 

The short conversation across the table had shown him that you had a sense of humor. It told him that you could keep up with his jokes, and that you weren’t afraid to speak your mind. It also told him that your face lit up when you were amused, and that you made eye contact when you spoke directly to people, even if it took you a few seconds to warm up. 

It would have been easy enough for him to ask you out. He knew from others in the office that you weren’t seriously seeing anyone, and that you’d moved to the area after a long term relationship had ended. He’d also looked through your social media for more clues about who you were outside of work, and what he’d learned, he liked. 

You liked reading. You liked movies. You liked coffee and animals, and had a penchant for using emojis in your comment replies to family and friends online. He’d also learned that you were planning on taking almost two weeks of vacation at the end of the year, beginning just after the holiday party and timed so that you had both Christmas and New Year’s off. 

It would mean that for those two weeks, he’d be dealing with Anthony if he needed access to your storeroom or anything in it, and at the realization, Tim’s nose wrinkled. That’s enough of a reason for me to request time off then, too. He didn’t, though, only entertaining the thought for long enough to consider the fact that his Lieutenant had said they’d be short staffed over the holidays as it was. And so I stay here. 

He replayed your conversation over and over in his mind while at work and at home. By the time he actually needed visit to the evidence room again, he was almost desperate for a second one, which was out of character for him. 

You weren’t at the window when the elevator doors opened on your floor, and so Tim did the only thing that he could think to do: he leaned against the desk and crossed his arms, trying to peer around the corner and see if maybe you were down one of the aisles. It wouldn’t be unattended. No way. 

He was right. When you appeared a few seconds later, two boxes in hand, he let out a breath in relief, pushing away from the wall and heading toward you. “Afternoon.” He nodded twice, settling his hands on the countertop. “I’m sure this comes as no surprise, but I need your help.” 

“Of course you do. Why else would you be down here?” You set the boxes down and then picked up the phone, dialing out. “Give me two seconds.” He waited, keeping his eyes on you as you completed the call and let someone know that you had their evidence ready, and all they needed to do was come down and sign for it. You looked tired, and when Tim saw you stifle a yawn, he briefly wondered what it was that had kept you from sleeping soundly. None of my business, though. “What can I do for you, Detective?” 

“Need to take a look at some evidence from an open case.” You nodded, clicking on your computer screen and then looking expectantly at him. “Malwes. From about three months ago.” You nodded, typing, and then a few seconds later, you tapped on the screen, your smile widening. 

“Got it. Are you signing it out, or just using the room to go through it?” He’d planned on taking it back up to his office, since the main thing he needed to look at was a logbook. But unless he was mistaken, there was a hopeful tone to your voice. Does she want me to stay? 

“I’ll stay down here.” He scratched the side of his neck. “Can’t hurt.” You tapped a few more times and then reached for your sign-out sheet, sliding it across to Tim. He took the pen from you and scrawled his name in the right space, watching as you initialed it and entered the time before unlocking the door. 

He entered the room and once the door was shut - and locked - behind him, you spun away from the counter and motioned for him to follow you. “Should be right at the end of the shelf. I remember seeing that name the last time I was in here.” He eyed you as you walked ahead of him, confidently leading him down the aisle before reaching for the box and handing it over. “See? I was right.” 

“You were.” Your fingers brushed against his when he took the evidence from you, but you didn’t bat an eye, instead just grinning before you pointed back at the lobby, letting him know where you were headed. No, I want to see you.  “You want me to sit out there with you? I didn’t know if you’d want me to hang out in here.” 

“If you don’t mind.” Sighing, you lowered your head. “It’s really dumb, but the guy I just called to come get files? He’s … asked me out a couple times, and I figure maybe if someone else is sitting there, he won’t do it again.” He felt his jaw lock into place, and Tim watched your posture as you spoke, trying to figure out just how bothered you were. “He’s not being a creep about it or anything, but just hasn’t gotten the hint yet.” 

“Of course.” He set the box down and then slid into one of the seats while you headed back for the counter, leaning against it to look over at him. “So you don’t want to go out with the guy?” 

“No.” You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes. “I just don’t think we’d have anything in common. He’s not my type.” And what is your type? He watched you for a few seconds longer and then hummed in agreement before turning to his work. 

He glanced over at you a few times over the following few minutes, watching as you sipped from a plastic cup that was half filled with ice and some sort of liquid. He smiled when he heard you grumble about the ice never lasting. Hmm. That’s helpful. But it wasn’t until the elevator doors opened that he truly let his attention waver. 

Tim halfheartedly flipped through the pages of the book as he listened to you talk to the other person there - a younger officer named Marty. You were friendly, though you made no attempt to engage the other man in additional conversation, Not like she did with me.  When you stepped away from the counter to head back into the file room for a different box, Tim finally looked all the way up, meeting Marty’s eyes and giving him a single nod. 

“Didn’t see you back there, Detective.” He sounded disappointed, and Tim was barely able to hide his reaction, biting the inside of his cheek to conceal his smirk. “Decided to visit the evidence cave today, too?”

“I did.” He leaned back in his chair, nodding. “Sorry I’m using the table.” The younger man waved him off, rising onto his tiptoes to peer around the corner and look for you. “Which case are you working on?”

“Drug bust with weapons. I need to check some numbers and make sure one of the serials matches the -”

‘Here.” You appeared again, holding up a small bag. “Not in a box.” You stepped back as Marty began to rifle through what was in front of him, occasionally scribbling something down into a notepad that he’d pulled from his pocket. He slid everything back toward you when he finished, and you marked down the time in your ledger, tucking that back beneath the counter as you gathered everything up to carry back to the shelves. 

“Got any plans this weekend?” Seriously? “There’s a movie theater at the mall that’s rereleasing a bunch of holiday movies between now and Christmas, and this Saturday’s Edward Scissorhands. Tickets usually sell out pretty quick, so I thought I’d ask now.” 

“Saturday? I …” You sighed, and Tim could see that you were trying to come up with an excuse. She shouldn’t need to. “I’m off work, but -” 

“She’s going to help me out.” Tim cleared his throat, gesturing with one hand. “I’m stumped with my Secret Santa gift, and need someone to tag along while I shop.” Marty frowned, disappointment evident on his features for a few seconds. Good. “I figured we’d go later in the day and grab dinner as a thank you for her help, so…” He finally looked over at you, unsure of what to expect - and was floored with the gratitude he saw in your expression. 

“Didn’t they give you like …three ideas for gifts?” Marty tucked the notebook away, frowning. “Just buy something from that list. That’s what I did.” Of course it is. 

“I could do that.” Tim nodded, adjusting his glasses. “But my giftee only gave me one idea, and it was a hat, and I have no idea what to get.” He paused, thinking. “What other movies are they showing?” 

“I…” Marty was flustered by the question, but recovered quickly. “I don’t know. Gremlins I think. Die Hard. National Lampoon. Elf. They -” 

“Die Hard’s one of my favorites.” Tim laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “People say it’s not a Christmas movie, but it definitely is.” 

“I agree.” You spoke up, the attention of both men immediately on you. “My family had that argument a lot “ Tim’s smile widened while Marty’s expression went even more sour, the second man sighing loudly. “And I appreciate you asking, Marty, but even if I wasn’t going with Tim, the answer still would have been no, just like it was last time. I’m not trying to send any mixed signals here.” 

“That’s fine.” Marty shrugged. “Just trying to be nice. I won’t ask again.” He spun away from the counter and headed back for the elevator, you and Tim staring after him. 

But neither of you spoke until the doors closed, and it was you that did first, covering your face with both hands and muttering good, you jackass. He shifted in his chair, angling his body toward you, but Tim kept quiet, waiting to see if you’d say anything else. “Thank you, Tim.” Lowering your hands, you shook your head. “You didn’t have to say anything. I just … I don’t think he liked being turned down in front of someone, and -”

“No is a complete sentence.” He shrugged. “You’ve said no before, he shouldn’t keep asking.” 

“Some people just don’t get the hint.” Biting down on your lower lip, you gestured to the boxes and bag. “I’m going to put these away. If anyone comes down, can you tell them I’ll be right back?” 

“Sure.” He watched you go, chest rising and falling as he replayed the previous few minutes. It had been a kneejerk reaction to make up plans that involved the two of you, but your reaction hadn’t been what he was expecting. Does she actually want to go with me? 

No one came down while you were gone, and when you reappeared, Tim looked over at you, stunned to see that you were nervous. “I don’t know if you really meant that you needed my help on Saturday, but I don’t have plans.” You paused, and he watched as your fingers flexed, curling in toward your palms. “So if you want -”

“I meant it.” His heart thumped in his chest, Tim fighting to keep his smile from erupting. You have no idea how much I meant it. “Shopping and dinner. But only if you want to.” He jerked his thumb toward the elevator. “If you tell me no, I’ll accept it.” 

There was a silence that stretched for a few seconds between you, and for a moment, Tim wondered if you were going to turn him down. But then you grinned, nodding your head and dropping back into your chair without taking your eyes off of him. 

“I bet you don’t hear no too often, Detective.” Arching a brow, you continued. “And you’re certainly not going to hear it from me.” 

It was just an afternoon of shopping and a quick dinner, so you didn’t know why you were so anxious about it. 

Tim had offered to pick you up because of limited parking options, and you’d agreed but that only made it worse. It meant that you’d be in the car with him for almost a full hour between the two destinations, which meant filling those rides with small talk. 

You were almost certain that he was interested in you - at least physically - based solely on the way he looked at you. His brown eyes focused on your face when you spoke, though you’d seen him eyeing you almost greedily when he thought you hadn’t been looking. It didn’t bother you in the way that it did when other men leered, though. Because you believed Tim when he said he’d respect your decisions, and his disgust with Marty’s behavior hadn’t been for show.

But knowing that he reciprocated your interest was one thing - and finding the right way to act on it was another. 

He pulled up a few minutes before he’d planned to, and when you stepped out to meet him, you wrinkled your nose at the fine mist that was falling. Pulling your hood up, you made a dash for the car, surprised to see that Tim had exited his side and was moving toward yours. “No, Tim! It’s gross out, stay inside.” You waved him off, laughing as you flung the door open and slid into the front passenger seat, Tim getting back in next to you and groaning. 

When you looked over, you laughed harder at the sight of the lenses of his glasses, which were covered in water droplets. “I was just trying to be nice.” He grumbled the words out as he reached for a cloth to wipe them clean. “Hi.” He looked over at you once they were situated on his nose again. “You ready?”

“Hi.” He was even more handsome up close and in the confines of his car, the interior of it almost cozy. It’s warm and it smells like his cologne. “Thanks for coming to get me, Tim.” 

He nodded in reply and then pulled away from the curb, staying quiet until you were on the main road. “I thought we’d go to the mall. There’s a lot of stores there, so I can look for a couple things that aren’t for my Secret Santa, too, if that’s alright.” He looked over at you, waiting for your nod. “And then we can pick somewhere in the mall or around it for dinner, as long as you’re not sick of me by then.” 

“I might be sick of the crowds, but I don’t think I’ll be sick of you after a couple hours.” You nudged him with your elbow. “I hope we find something today.” 

“Me too.” He sighed. “I’m running out of days off.” Laughing quietly, you settled into the seat, briefly closing your eyes as you inhaled. If the first few minutes were setting the tone, the rest of the day was going to be fun. 

You made small talk until you parked at the mall, choosing an entrance via one of the department stores instead of the main one. It worked to your advantage, and when you were inside, you and Tim stepped off to the right of the doors, making a gameplan. He wanted to go into four stores, but they were in different sections of the mall, which meant that you’d pass others on the way. 

“You said you’re looking for a hat?” He nodded as you started to walk through the store, Tim walking to your left. “You won’t tell me who, but can you at least tell me if it’s for a man or a woman? Or if you’re looking for something universal? I need something to go on if I’m going to help you.” 

“It’s for a woman.” He eyed a rack of clothes as you passed it, and then turned his head to look at you. “But I don’t want to buy anything over the top. She wrote in a color preference.” That helps. But if she said that much, he could have picked something. “Blue, green, or black were her top three colors.” You nodded, thinking. “What about you? Do you need to look for your gift while we’re here?”

“No, actually.” You stopped to browse a rack of hats and gloves, flipping through piles that you were certain had been neatly folded earlier in the day. “I took care of mine earlier this week.” Looking up, you gave him a broad smile. “Ordered it online, and -”

“What did you get?” He moved to stand next to you, picking up a black hat and then making a face when he saw a giant bow on the side of it. “Was it something on their list?”

“Nope.” You held up a hat in hunter green, Tim reaching over to take it from you to look at the design on the interior fabric. “And I’m not telling. But it’s something for them to use and not just to have.” 

Part of you hated teasing him, but you knew that once he opened his gift, he’d immediately understand your clues. I just hope he likes it. And that he’s not … that he doesn’t assume anything. “I could interrogate you.” You both stepped away from the display, Tim once again walking beside you. “I���ve been told that I’m pretty good at it.” 

The thought made you weak in the knees, and though you wanted to believe you could handle his questions, deep down you knew that it was more likely you’d cave almost immediately under the intensity of his gaze. Who wouldn’t? 

“I’m sure you are.” You exited the department store and stepped into the mall, the sound of Christmas music and an assortment of chatter from the other shoppers loud in your ears. “And I’m sure you could, but that wouldn’t be fair, Tim.” 

“Probably not.” He laughed, stepping closer to you to get out of the way while a group of teenagers passed in the opposite direction.”Do they always move in packs?” 

“They do.” You pointed at a second group, which was gathered around a pair of benches in the center aisle.  “Gives them more confidence for when they’re being annoying little shits.” That made Tim laugh again, and you were pleased to realize that he didn’t move away even when the crowd thinned, giving both of you more space. 

“It’s been so long since I was a damn high schooler. I must be out of practice.” He guided you toward another store with a single touch to the back of your arm. “And speaking of high schoolers, I have to pick up a game for my nephew. It should be waiting for us.” You liked the way that sounded - us - but didn’t say that out loud. It would be weird. 

There was a short line at the counter, and while he waited in it, you looked around, trying to keep yourself busy. It also gave you time to think - and to process Tim’s behavior in the little while you’d been together. The touching was new, and so was the joking, at least to the extent of it that day. So would it be ok if I touched him back? There was no way you’d do anything as bold as taking his hand or putting your arm around him, but looking through shelves and displays meant you’d be near enough to rest your hand on his back, or even squeeze his arm to get his attention. 

It was silly, and in some ways as juvenile as the behavior of the teenagers you’d seen, but there were plenty of factors to consider when it came to being forward with Tim. Namely our jobs. You could have just asked if he was interested. You could have told him you were, just to see what happened. You could turn up the charm and flirt enough to let him know you were open to hooking up with him. But I don’t know him well enough to begin to guess what he’s thinking. So I won’t. I’ll just - 

“Got it.” He stood in front of you, holding up a bag. “Ready to brave the crowds again?” You nodded in agreement, giving him a onceover as you did, and letting your gaze linger - just for a few seconds - on his face. 

For someone as perceptive as Tim, you decided that subtlety was the way to go - because if he caught it, then it meant that he was watching you just as closely. 

He was almost certain that you were flirting with him, but he didn’t know what you wanted him to do about it. 

There was a chance that it was just because for the first time, you were together outside of the precinct. He was getting to see you outside of work, to talk to you about whatever came up and without the end of a lunch break or the approach of someone else that needed one of you looming. 

And you’d been staring at him occasionally, especially when you’d thought he was otherwise occupied. The truth was that he liked it, and it had been a little while since the feeling things out stage of a friendship had excited him. 

He thought that if he asked you point blank if you were into him, you’d answer honestly. He also had a feeling that if he made his interest in you known, you’d respond well to it. But if she doesn’t, then … it complicates things. It would make working with you awkward, and it had the potential to make you feel uncertain about him and his intentions. The fact that he’d driven you to the mall was another consideration, because he didn’t want you to feel trapped. So we’ll just do this. 

You made your way through the mall, looking into niche stores as well as ones that sold winter clothing, and Tim was enamored with the fact that you took shopping seriously, even when it was for things he was looking for. 

He had no intention of buying you a hat, and was actually searching for one based on his niece’s preferences. But being near the hats also put the two of you close to the other cold-weather accessories, and that was helpful. He watched the things you looked at, making note of the ones you picked up to take a closer look - a pair of gloves compatible with a touch screen in soft gray, a fringed scarf that had a pocket near each end for you to stick your hands in, and a slouchy hat that you contemplated trying on but then decided not to. 

You tried to stay focused, though, redirecting the your attention to him and asking more questions about his shopping goals … but you managed to sneak a few more personal ones in there, too. He answered them, being mindful of oversharing, but also found an opportunity to ask a few of his own in at the same time. 

He found out more about your holiday plans, and about your vacation time. He learned what you’d already bought in the way of gifts for your family and friends. And even though it was potentially overstepping, he decided to ask you the most personal thing he’d mentioned that day while the two of you stopped to take a break, planting yourselves at one of the food court tables with drinks. 

“Do you have anyone special to buy a gift for this year?” He worded it specifically to see what type of answer you gave him, and to Tim’s relief, you didn’t disappoint. 

“Do you mean a guy?” He nodded, eyes locked with yours. “No, I don’t make it a habit of buying gifts for men that I go out on one date with before deciding not to see them again.” You removed your coat as you talked, draping it over the back of your chair. “I broke up with my long term boyfriend about a year ago, and ended up having to move. That’s why I wound up working this job.” 

“That’s a long time.” You rolled your eyes, sipping through your straw while you shrugged. “Nothing since?”

“Nothing worth talking about.” Pushing your drink to the side, you linked your fingers together and narrowed your eyes. “But since you brought it up … if a year’s a long time to be single, what about you? People talk, Tim, and nobody’s talked about you having a girlfriend in the time I’ve been there.” 

“Dating’s shit with my hours.” He dragged his thumb over the top of his cup, thinking. “It’s unpredictable. Women don’t like that.” He thought of the arguments he’d had with the woman he’d most recently dated, wincing at the memory of her accusations of feeling ignored. “I’ve tried, but nothing lasts. My Secret Santa gift will be the only gift I get this year for a woman I’m not related to.” You laughed at his words, closing your eyes as you nodded in agreement. 

“There are plenty of women in the precinct that would date you.” Biting your lip, you blinked innocently at him. “I hear them talking. I’m sure you do, too.” 

“That gets complicated.” He frowned, trying to figure out if you were trying to bait him into digging deeper, or if you were just making conversation. “Messy, especially when there’s different ranks involved.” Is she trying to get me to ask who’s interested in me? “And I like my job, so…” 

Your face fell - just briefly, but it was enough to make him certain that you were in fact one of the ones interested in him, and that the thought that nothing could be done about it was upsetting to you. I should reassure her. I should - 

“Detective Rockford?” He recognized the voice and groaned at the sound, both of you turning toward the source. “I just wanted to let you know that it’s cruel to put an old woman in jail right before the holidays.” His gaze flicked over to you, and he saw confusion written on your features as you stared at the redheaded woman, your head cocked to the side. Shit. 

“Ms. Boulton, we shouldn’t speak to each other outside of the -”

“I don’t want to talk to you, I just want you to listen.” She stepped closer to your table, and for the first time, Tim noticed the shopping bags hung over her arm, some of them bulging. “My grandmother did nothing wrong. And she’s going to prove it in -”

“We wouldn’t have arrested her if we didn’t have evidence. I understand that she’s family, but …” He stood up, turning his attention onto you again and hoping that you recognized the pleading look in his eyes. “But it’s still an ongoing case, and I can’t say anything more than that.”

“You’re dating someone that arrests old women.” She turned her attention on you, her body angled toward where you were still sitting, fingers wrapped loosely around your cup. “Old women that did nothing wrong except try and keep their family’s legacy alive.” She pointed at him, head whipping back and forth. “So that’s the kind of man you-”

“If Tim arrests someone, he’s got a reason to.” You stood then, reaching for your coat. “And if he is wrong about your grandmother? That’ll come out in court.” Zipping your jacket, you straightened it once you were done. “But you causing a scene in a mall food court isn’t going to help anything, so I suggest you listen to his advice and don’t make this worse for yourself right now.” 

Tim watched the redhead’s expression shift from anger to disbelief and then back to anger before it softened into defeat. It sucks for her, but holy shit that was hot. “I can’t believe you.” She spun away and stormed off without saying anything else, and Tim watched as you watched her go, your features set in a thoughtful expression. She’s amazing. 

“I’m sorry about that.” He bit his lip and stuck a hand on his hip. “I didn’t think -”

“That from your case last week?” You finally looked at him, your expression softening. “I can’t blame her for being upset, but I don’t … I don’t know what she thought was going to happen.” 

“It’s not the first time I’ve been approached in public by a family member or friend, and it won’t be the last.” He sighed, reaching for his shopping bags with one hand and the empty cup with his other. “I’m just sorry you had to deal with it, too.” 

“Don’t apologize.” You headed toward trash cans and then to the opposite side of the mall, Tim once again beside you. “You can’t control what other people do.” You were right, and when he mumbled a thank you, he was rewarded with a bright smile and a wrinkle of your nose. The combination of the two lightening the mood immensely. “You ready to finish shopping?”

He nodded once, and then after only a moment of thought, he reached out with his free hand, setting it gently against your back, urging you forward. 

“What about this one?” He held up a deep green hat with metallic thread woven into the pattern and a puffy ball at one end. “Would you wear it?” 

“I would.” You took it from him, nodding. “It’s big enough that it’ll fit over just about any hairstyle and onto anyone’s head, it’s slouchy enough that it doesn’t have to be pulled tight over someone’s ears to make it look good, and the color is nice. I think this is a winner, Tim.” He beamed at you, and you were happy to see that the interruption from Maddie Boulton hadn’t put a damper on the remainder of your day. “You want to go pay?” 

“Sure.” He nodded twice, dropping his gaze from your face back to the display. “Unless there’s… oh, shit, look at those.” He stepped to the side and you followed, confused as he reached for pairs of fuzzy socks, which were haphazardly loaded onto a circular display. “These are…” He laughed as he picked up a pair featuring penguins on candy cane skis, holding them up to you. “Who comes up with this?”

You reached past him, grabbing a pair that had dinosaurs in Santa hats on them. “I don’t know but these are great, right?” He chuckled, returning the first pair to the pile and then pawing through them to grab a second. “Oh, reindeer with lights in their antlers? A little predictable, but still a classic.” 

“I like ‘em.” He shrugged, eyeing the socks before he set them down. “They’re soft. Probably really warm.”

“You should get yourself a pair. You said your feet get cold, and you might not get that blanket you asked for.”

“Today’s not about buying myself things, or I would.” He looked back at you. “We can go pay, if -” Tim frowned and stopped mid sentence, reaching for his pocket and then pulling his phone out. “Shit, I have to take this.” He answered the phone. “Hey, I’m here. Give me one second, alright?” He reached toward you, holding the hat out until you took it, keeping the phone pressed between his cheek and his ear. “Take this, if you want to go pay, that way we can get out of here and you won’t be standing and waiting for me." Tim took money out of his wallet and handed it to you, still smiling. “I’ll meet you by the exit. It’s work, so…”

He trailed off but you agreed, taking the money, too, and watching as he returned to the phone call. He greeted another detective by name as he spun away from you and walked back the way you’d come. It was an abrupt change in pace for the day, but as you eyed his retreating shoulders, you realized that it also gave you an opportunity. He’s not getting the blanket from me, but the socks… I can get him the socks. 

You selected the pair with the reindeer and then made your way over to the nearest cashier, getting in line. It went fast, even with two transactions, and after you’d stuffed Tim’s socks into the interior pocket of your jacket and zipped it shut, you headed off to find him. 

He was still on the phone, but smiled and nodded as you approached, holding his hand out to take his change - and then the bag - from you, mouthing the words thank you before returning to the conversation. 

You didn’t want to hover, so you walked a few steps away and sat down on a bench, pulling your own phone out. You figured that dinner was next on the agenda since Tim had finished his shopping, and while part of you was relieved that the outing had gone smoothly, another part of you didn’t want it to be over. 

Hanging out with Tim was nice. Getting to know him was even nicer. And being the focus of his attention for longer than the span of a single conversation at work was the nicest thing of all, if you were being honest. Maybe we can do it again sometime. You looked up and over at him just in time to see that he was sticking his phone back in his pocket, lips set in a thin line. That doesn’t look good. 

When he made it over to you, though, he gave you a small smile, holding his hand out to help you up from the bench. You liked the way it felt to have his fingers curl around yours and were sad to lose the contact when he let go. “Everything alright? That was a long call.”

“Yeah, he was just updating me on something with one of our cases. They made some progress while working on something else, and wanted to ask my opinion. It’s important, but not important enough to cut this,” he said while gesturing between the two of you, his smile growing, “short.” 

“But you’re done. All we’d miss out on is dinner, so if you need to go, I can -”

“No. Dinner’s the part I’ve been looking forward to most.” He stepped next to you while you started walking again, Tim close enough that his arm hit yours every few steps. “Aren’t you hungry?” 

“I am.” Your chest filled with warmth, and you wondered if he caught the smile you attempted to hide by looking down and turning your head to the side, away from him. “So where do you want to go? Somewhere in the mall? We can eat at the food court.” 

“I’m not taking you to dinner at the food court.” He laughed, tossing his head back and giving you an incredulous look. “We’re going to figure something else out.” You agreed, letting your mind wander to contemplate what was between your house and the mall. But when you felt Tim’s hand on your arm again, you stopped, focusing on him. “Oh, shit, this must be the movie theater Marty was talking about.” 

You looked to the right and saw that instead of the usual ‘COMING SOON’ posters, one wall to the side of the theater was adorned with posters depicting Christmas movies and dates that they were playing. Yeah, it is. I didn’t realize we’d walked this far. “It must be.” You pressed your lips together. “Looks like tonight’s sold out, though.” Pointing at the poster, you sighed. “If only I’d agreed to go with him, we could be sitting inside the theater and watching it snow.” 

“You’d rather be here with Marty? I’m offended.” Tim nudged you, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time I think about asking you to hang out.” Your heart soared at the implication that he wanted to see you again, even to do something as mundane as run errands. But he said it. And even if he’s joking, there’s still some truth to it. 

“I’m perfectly happy here with you, Detective Rockford.” Cocking your head to the side, you took a deep breath. Just go for it. “If you ask me to hang out again, I would not require an outside excuse in order to turn you down.” That got another laugh, but you also saw his nod, Tim’s eyes glittering as he stared at you. 

“Even better.” He rubbed a hand over his cheek and then looked over your shoulder and to the box office, the tip of his tongue flashing against his lips as he wet them. “But I really kinda do want to see Die Hard, so if you give me a second, I’m going to go and see if I can grab tickets.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you took a second to respond. “You’ll have the night off?” He nodded, one corner of his mouth rising as he smiled briefly. “I’ll wait here.” He spun away from you and you watched him go, fingers curling into a loose fist at your side. I hope it’s sold out. Otherwise … 

The afternoon you’d talked about it in the breakroom, you’d gone online and bought two tickets to the movie as Tim’s main Secret Santa gift. Since the showings were discounted, you’d still had some budget leftover, which was why you’d chosen the socks - and still had a couple extra bucks remaining for the final part of his gift. But the tickets might be redundant if he buys one tonight. 

There was no way for you to clue him in without giving yourself away, though, and so you watched and waited as Tim stood in line, occasionally glancing back in your direction. You wondered if it was just one of his mannerisms; constant awareness of his surroundings was a big part of his job, after all. But another, more hopeful part of you believed that he was specifically looking back and for you. 

When he turned away from the counter and headed back to where you waited, you felt a cautious optimism. And that feeling intensified when he rolled his eyes at you, frowning. “They were sold out.” He confirmed the news when he was only a few feet away, dodging and weaving through people to get back to you. “Just haven’t updated it yet.” That’s great. 

“I’m so sorry, Tim. That’s too bad.” He agreed, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing toward the direction you’d come from. 

“It’s the night after the gift exchange at work, so maybe I’ll just stay at home and watch it. Some streaming platform’s gotta have it on there, right?” 

“Right.” Stepping closer to him to avoid a teenager on a motorized elephant racing their friend - who was riding a panda - you groaned. “Those things are the worst damn addition to the mall. It’s always a herd of them zooming down the aisle.” 

“I always hope the batteries die.” He leaned in, turning his head so that he could talk into your ear. “Them scattered everywhere is still less in the way than people riding them around.” He was right, and you shivered at the way his low voice sounded in your ear, the end of his confession lifting slightly into a laugh. It felt right to be joking around with Tim, both of you quick to catch onto each other’s quips and moods. It’s almost too easy. 

Neither of you said anything else until you were back at the car, Tim opening the trunk so that he could put his bags inside. “Did you think more about dinner? We should probably decide before we pull out of the parking lot.” 

“We should.” He leaned forward, eyes locked with yours. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah.” You crossed your arms. “Of course I do.” 

Tim stared at you for a few seconds without blinking and then he closed his eyes, chewing on the inside of his lip. “Ok. Good. Get in.” He opened his eyes and then winked at you before arching a brow. “That alright?”

It was more than alright. I don’t think he even knows hes flirting. “I’ll let you know after we get there.” Instead of giving you a verbal reply, Tim tapped one hand on the top of his car and licked his lips again, turning toward the door. 

But I definitely do.

[icomeandg0]

Hiya! Saw your requests were open and since loneliness is consuming me bit by bit I decided to be courageous (for once😭)

Is it okay if I request some isekai reader x sleepy Sky cuddles? Like, the chain's at Skyloft, it's night, so they both just cuddle to sleep? Generalizing, ultra fluff. Super ultra mega fluff. Take your time, no rush🫶

(pls forgive me if this is incoherent it's my first time requesting something and english isn't my first language so I apologize if it's bad-🙏)

-⭐️

Hi Anon, Thank you for your request and I apologise for being away from writing for so long since of my exams but I'm back and I'm prepared to write the request I have.

I’m so sorry it took me this long, I hope you enjoy!

Content under cut:

~Skyloft Snuggles!~

An exhausting day!

The week hasn’t been easy either, constantly running into monsters, having to deal with some people’s problems around the villages you all encountered, also someone’s (won’t admit but it was yours) tent was damaged due to a monster raid so now you had to sleep in one of the other boys tent.

Sky was the first to suggest, rather quickly might you add but you were tired that night and you didn’t care.

You couldn’t help but realises that during the days, you liked sleeping near Sky. He was like a bear, once he was in a deep sleep he would drape his arms around you—as creepy as it may seem..it was nice and cozy. He was the perfect cuddle buddy.

But now you all were in Skyloft! You were particularly excited to see, you’ve seen the visuals in the game but seeing it right now, living in the moment? Felt perfect.

“Make yourself at home, Bazaar is in the centre of Skyloft so feel free to top up on items and potions” Sky smiles softly, “That sounds boring! What can you do on this tiny island?” Wind huffed as he looked around, despite Wind’s slight interest to check out the Bazaar he couldn’t help but feel the need to adventure again! A new place needs to be explored but a place this ‘tiny’?

“Well, I can show you my Loftwing.” Sky offered, Wind gasped. “Really?!” “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him so it’ll be good to go check up on him.” Sky looks over to you, “would you like to come?” You honestly would but you were exhausted, you wanted to sleep.

“No, I think I might head to the Academy to have a nap.” You informed earning a slight nod, “alright, we’ll be back” you watch as the two leave, Wind dragging the poor boy by the arm. You head towards the Academy.

————————————

You were greeted by Sun, Sky’s Zelda. She was as kind and gentle as Sky described her to be, “You must be Y/n! It’s nice to meet you, Sky’s told me a whole lot about you in his letters” Sun chuckles which made you flushed a bit, ‘Sky writes about you in his letters?’

“All good things I hope?” You replied jokingly, “Of course, he’s very poetic with how he describes you” now you were curious.

“Oh! You’re probably wondering where you’ll be sleeping for the next few days, we’ve occupied some rooms for vacant so you all have a room however, someone will need to bunk with someone but it’s okay! You don’t get to, you’ll have a room all to yourself” Sun says sweetly, you were relieved at that fact but also disappointed, sure you’ll finally have your own sleeping space but you’ve grown accustomed to sleeping near Sky and embracing him in the night.

You shouldn’t ponder much on the thought, it’s only for a few days anyways.

You didn't realize how tired you really were! Once you had woken up from your nap it was dark time. You probably missed dinner but that's fine, you weren't hungry at the moment but your mouth was dry. You pick up your water bottle and tried to take a sip but it was empty, off to the kitchen.

You find yourself at the sink filling up your bottle and once it was filled you took a sip.

————————————

"Mmm, Y/n?" You turn to see the one and only sleepyhead, Sky. "Sky, Why are you up?" You asked softly, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. "I can't sleep" "Why's that? You finally get to sleep by yourself again"

"Yeah, That's the problem"

That answer shocked you, mostly flustered you. "Problem? How?" "It's colder than usual, no matter how hard I try I can't stop thinking about having you close to me again" You had to contain the smile that was twitching to appear on your face.

You turn away from Sky, your back facing him as you close the lid. Either you’re dreaming right now or this is really happening, you never thought he would come clean like this and the fact he’s having trouble sleeping tonight because of you? Considering yourself a one of a kind!

You heard footsteps behind you and Sky had wrapped his arms around you lazily as he rest his head on your shoulders, “Please, come back to my room” Sky whispered gently in your ear causing a slight shiver to run up your spine.

“Well, at least let me get my things—“

“No, do that in the morning”

Sky hooks an arm under your leg and manages to hoist you into a bridal style carry as he walks back to his room.

He lays you back on his bed, he hops in the bed and tucks the blanket over top of you two, the softness of the blanket was a gently caress to your skin as you could already feel yourself feel lighter, feeling drowsy.

Sky’s arms wrap around your waist, lazily placed dropping on your body but you wouldn’t underestimate him, he’s stronger than he looks and he’ll yank you back if you stray too far.

“See how cold it was before? How could you let me go through the feeling of such loneliness and coldness” Sky pouts softly, “For Hylia’s sake, you’re the hero of Hyrule and you’ve already done that before we were forced into the predicament of sleeping together” you tease, booping his nose softly as you two had a light banter between the two of you.

You could tell he was tired, well normally you can but he was about to knock out soon. He plants a soft kiss to your forehead making you flush slightly. He decides to pull you in until your bodies are flush.

You couldn’t help but let out a small content sigh as you cuddled into him, you had to admit this was better than sleeping alone.

Bonus:

“So, who’s waking Sky up? I dibs not I did the last time.” Wind raises his hand as he calls himself out, he would fight against Ganon again instead of waking Sky up—Sheesh that boy gets so angry when woken up.

“Uh bad news, Y/n ain’t in her room..All her stuff has been left behind” Twilight says as he had a worried look plastered on his face.

“What? It’s only been a few hours, she couldn’t have been taken again.” Time muttered before he looked at everyone again. “Alright, Everyone scatter around, maybe she went on a stroll without telling one of us. Legend, you wake Sky up, he’ll know where all the hiding spots would be around here” with no further discussion everyone had left to find you.

————————————

Legend grumbled as he walks to Sky’s room, first he had to bunk with none other than Wind himself who didn’t stop snoring. Remind him to never bunk with Wind again, now he has to wake Sky, just great.

“Hey Sky—“ Legend opens the door to see not just Sky but you as well, snuggling close to Sky’s chest as he had his arm lazily wrapped around you. Legend stares at the scene in front of him for a bit…

He ponders on his choices.

Get Wild to take a Photo and blackmail the both of you

Or

Be nice and—

Hell no, forget option two. Legend suffered a night so you both pay the consequences.

[bsd-bibliophile]

Survey Dates: 11/15/2024 - 12/15/2024

Number of Participants: 362

Tumblr will not allow me to post pictures of all the survey results, so only part of them are included in this post. You can download and view the complete results here or view them in the BSD-Bibliophile Online Library.

Thank you to everyone who participated! If you are interested in viewing the results from past surveys, here are the results from 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, and 2023.

View the complete survey results here or on the BSD-Bibliophile Online Library.

Comments:

:)

:p

always looking forward to ur survey :)) i love data and it motivates me to read more japanese authors

Another year, another survey! Thank you so much for all the information you provide, it's really some great work you're doing! It's been a while since I had the time to just sit down and read for a while, but I did recently buy The Setting Sun and I read Kokoro this year, which was such a masterpiece I loved it! Again many thanks and love <3

As always, thank you for your lovely work Anne <33

been a fan of this website since i got into bsd (2020) you’re doing god’s work fr!!

BYE BYE BESTIES FROM ME IN THE WESTIES

compiling all these resources is a really awesome endeavor, thanks for all that you do :)

cool asf

Cool survey ^_^

even though i haven't used the library yet, i really appreciate you keeping it up and maintaining it as a resource! thank you!

freaky kunikida 😛😛😛

haiiii

Hey hope everything is going well for you I love seeing your posts and analyses you’ve really done a lot for bsd and Japanese literature fans thanks for everything <33

heyo!! i appreciate all the work you guys do, and while i've had this tab open on my phone for a while, i've not used the website that much. i plan to in the future!!

I cannot choose between Dazai, Ranpo, and Chuuya as favorite characters.

I don't always have time to read or use the library, but I'm very happy it exists and I want to find the time to use it and read more!! You are one of my favorite blogs on tumblr and have done wonderful things for both the BSD and literature community.

i dotn know why i m filling this out

I have not read a lot of Japanese literature but I intend on reading at least 1 work from each author in BSD as a goal

I have not read much, as I would rather read physical copies. Many of the authors' works cannot be found in my country, so I would wait for a bit to read, or just give in and read online translated version. At the moment I can find Ayatsuji, Tsujimura, Natsume Soseki, Dazai Osamu, Yokomizo Seishi...I intend to read more mysteries, so I would focuse on Yokomizo Seishi's at the moment.

I haven't had the time to check out your tumblr, but I have used your website a bunch! I really appreciate the effort you put into all of it, and it made reading Bungou (and other Japanese authors) a lot more accessible and understandable. Without reading some of your descriptions on the authors, I most definitely wouldn't have even picked up their books in the first place. So, thank you very much!

I honestly don’t have one single favorite bsd character, but Atsushi is definitely in my top few, I love his character and his development, and someone very very dear to me is a lot like him <3 ALSO READ STORMBRINGER 💥

I hope you have a great day ahead! This was a lovely survey.

i love dazai

I love entering Tumblr and seeing your posts on my tl, specially if they're from my favorite authors/characters ❤️ I feel like they're always there for me in a way thanks to your posts. I also appreciate the resources, even if I usually read physical books.

I love the BSD-Bibliophile site, it's so helpful when my BSD phase strikes again.

I love the online library even though I haven't used it in awhile. It's a great resource to direct new jp lit readers to

I love the tumble quotes as it inspires my own writing. Thank you and keep it up! x

I love the work that your community/company is putting in. Good luck on everything.

I love this website, thanks for this!

I love your blog! Love from Spain!

I love your online library, and I love how passionate you are about it. If there's any way that we can help add to your collection or just help in general, please let me know!

I loved Bungou Stray Dogs the moment I watched the Anime and started reading the Manga. With this Blog, it was the same: The moment I found it, I loved it! There are so many books written by authors from BSD, that I can't get a hand on in Germany, so that Posts here are my only source. I hope it makes sense... my active english isn't good. Thank you very much for the hard work over all these years!

I originally accessed this website only to search for digital copies of Dazai Osamu's works, but I ended up developing a genuine obsession with classic Japanese literature and reading dozens of books, short stories, and essays from various authors and of different genres. Thank you so much for your hard work!

I prefer reading the Slavic authors at the moment so I haven't read much by the Japanese authors. (I am also learning Russian personally so this is my preference.)

"I really enjoy your blog! It is very fun, informative, and helpful <3 

I haven't read much of the authors featured in BSD but I plan to change that next year! Your blog will be very helpful then! Thank you for all your work!"

I really love how you have made all the translated books available online. It has helped me expand my choice of literature actually. Thank you so much for your hard work! This is a place return to every once in a while because it brings me so much joy!

I really love the BSD Bibliophile Online Library. It comes in handy when I want to read books or search for more information on the authors. Bless you for such a wonderful resource!

I started learning Japanese for a light novel series that I was following (not BSD), but BSD is directly responsible for my seeking out more general Japanese literature, rather than just light novels or anime. Would not have read half of that stuff otherwise, so I am quite happy I picked up the series.

I think BSD-bibliophile is an awesome website! Thank you:)

I use the BSD-Bibliophile often! Thank you for making this website.

I want to start reading

I wish I had more time to explore the real works of the authors

I'm glad that such a page exists. I find it important and useful. Just congratulations to the ones (or one) who came up with the idea and followed through with it!

In the future I’d recommend either including modern Japanese authors (Murakami etc) in the survey, or specifying that the focus is classic (largely 20th/early 21st century) authors. But regardless I love what y'all do and the resources you provide!

in truth i haven’t used the site as i’ve wished due to time but i always have this site in mind when i’m looking for japanese authors to read :) i wholeheartedly love this site and have used it to read shorter parts of writings i can read… thank you for all you do! i can’t wait to open up the treasure trove that is this website and dive deep into japanese authors

Is there a list for BSD writers’ literary significance + how they influenced each other in chronological order? I’m relatively new to JP lit and I’d love to learn more

I've already asked for this correction last year, but I will say it again; please change the wording for "Who is your favorite BSD Japanese author" and "What is your favorite literary work by a Japanese BSD author" questions. The authors don't have anything to do with BSD, and now the questions make it sound like you're asking if people like Asagiri or someone else who has worked on BSD, as THEY are the authors of BSD. Not Dazai and others. Please change the wording to "Japanese authors who appear as characters in BSD" or something like that, and don't call them BSD authors. They aren't such. Also, I would like to point out that you've got Hirotsu's name order wrong in all questions. It's Hirotsu Ryuurou (JP order like for others), not Ryuurou Hirotsu (which is the Western name order). Thank you for the survey as always.

I've been meaning to start reading the works on the Online Library, but haven't gotten around to it yet.

I've used your list once!! I haven't had time to read many new things with how busy I've been, but there's a few I've been meaning to get around to for a while.

Just wanted to say how much I appreciate the work you do :) it made Japanese lit way more accessible when I started getting into it

Just wanted to say thank you for all you do!

Just wanted to say thanks for all the work you've put into the blog! It's how I ended up reading Nakahara's poems :)

Keep up the great work!

Love the analyses page! please add more and make it easier to find on the page

Love this blog!!!

love ur website

Love your work 💜

Maybe you should also do a survey to figure out what other Japanese authors are popular. I read mainly translated Japanese, and I'm curious to see just how popular authors like Kawabata, Mishima and Shiga are. Loved this survey btw, can't wait to see the results <3

my interest in Japanese literature was cultivated through the comprehensive list and resources available in bsd bibliophile site even though I started watching bsd much before I found the site for which I'll always be grateful because a lot of my favourite works are from Japanese literature. so thank you!!!

N/A - have a lovely day! :)

One of the Agatha Christie quotes was censored (specifically, the Ten Little Indians poem). I don't think that serves any pedagogical purpose, and it erases the harmful aspects of that story that are worth discussing and acknowledging. Similar to censoring mentions of women in Dazai quotes, it only serves to gloss over and obscure relevant details in the authors' legacies and meaningful context from their works.

"One of the best curated pages. Thanks to you i’ve been able to delve further into the magical world of BSD and some of the greatest authors in literature. 

Thank you. You’re a blessing to the BSD community. 

Love from Vietnam."

"Please help the Brazilian Portuguese speakers to make a way of doing some kind of the same thing (a place with translations) 

It would be great lots of languages on the library"

scurrying here to read tanizaki's works because the games i like reference them is the most brainrot thing i did

stay hydrated!

thank you

Thank you

thank you for all your hard work in organising the online library ♥️

Thank you for all your hard work with the website and the gorgeous posts. I have read many works after seeing them featured on your blog first

Thank you for all your work!

"Thank you for doing these every year, it is always interesting to see the results! If it's okay, I'd like to recommend two books from Japanese authors (altough they aren't related to bsd). First: The Tatami Galaxy by Tomihiko Morimi. It's a funny and surprisingly deep book with a great time loop (and there's an anime based on it that's just as great!) Second: The Aosawa Murders by Riku Onda, a gripping mystery that I couldn't put out of my hands.

Have a great year reading, everyone!"

Thank you for everything! I've learned and read a lot about Japanese authors, and even Western ones.

"Thank you for making people more familiar with Japanese literature! Good luck.

Thank you for running this blog! I'm currently working on my masters degree and the blog is going to be a valuable resource for me in the coming months.

Thank you for the google site and everything you've done for the community all these years :-) !!!

Thank you for the survey

Thank you for the survey! : ) I really want to read more books by Japanese authors but there aren't many translations of the ones i want in stores.

Thank you for the work you do!

Thank you for your blog and the website! It really helped me, because it can be hard to find even an electronic version of the book

"Thank you for your continued maintenance and work on the website - I'm incredibly grateful for all of the PDFs, lists, and information on such a broad array of authors. In time, I plan to read every work on the list.

A question - outside of the authors included in the bibliography, who else do you enjoy reading? I am fond of Kenzaburo Oe, Haruki Murakami, Keigo Higashino, Karen Horney, Irvin Yalom, Nietzsche, and Carl Jung (amongst a few others here and there)"

Thank you for your contribution to the BSD fandom!

thank you for your hard work in promoting and providing Japanese books

Thank you for your hard work!

thank you for your hard work! your site has helped me both in terms of enjoyment and providing useful resources for writing my papers and understanding literature better.

Thank you for your hard work!!

Thank you for your hard work, BSD-Bibliophile Online Library is a huge source of information for the community

Thank you for your website and hard work. I'm genuinely grateful.

Thank you for your work!

Thank you so much for making your site. It's one of the main ways I get literature, and it's really helpful because I'm a kid without a steady stream of income aside from an $8 a week allowance, which is not enough to get books at the speed I read them and my family does not go to the library often enough nor does my library have enough to suit my interests. Your online library is truly incredible and I could not be more grateful that you're kind enough to put it out for the world.

Thank you so much for running BSD-Bibliophile! It's such a lovely account, I love seeing the quotes, and also introduced me to new works too — for example, a quote from Dazai Osamu's 'The Villon's Wife' made me realize I hadn't read his whole library yet. 'm inspired by the quotes I read, and it always makes me want to read new stories too! So truly, thank you so so much for running this account.^^

thank you so much for your amazing work!!!!

Thank you!

Thanks for all the work you do!

Thanks for all you do! This is a great resource and an incredibly helpful one!!

thanks for everything, you made it easier for me to read and access Japanese literature

Thanks for your work!!!!:)

The Bibliophile has helped so much thank you!!!! :DDDDD

The website had been very useful, I'm enjoying myself with it a lot :)

The work you do (translating and compiling the works) has given me so much joy when I was obsessing about BSD and looking to read works from the original authors!! The quality of the translations seems pretty great (I'm not fluent in Japanese to know for sure but I've certainly read worse translations) and without BSD Bibliophile, I wouldn't have found a *lot* of works I love dearly. Thanks for putting this together! It's made an impact in my life and brought me closer to works I wouldn't have gotten to know otherwise :)

This survey is really including and cool! Props to the creator

This was fun to take

ur blog is such a wonderful insight into japanese literature through the lens of bsd ^^ i’d like to get more into actually reading the original works esp next year and ur blog is such a great lil sneak peak into them? lovely wotk keep it up (also hopefully gonna start w hell screen cus i read a bit 👍 but idk i like how bsd has such a wide range of authors id never heard of before ^^ literature is such a wide spectrum love it)

Ur posts put a smile on my face! I love ur dedication to the fandom and japanese literature 🫡🫡 you must have been posting daily for more than 5 years? Impressive 😊😌😌

w series literally

What about Fyodor Dostoevsy? (Crime and Punishment is a rather nice book)

Your posts made me buy and read the books. Thank you! 🖤

your website is very nice! it's where i found the english translations for some of the light novels. ive only read 3 so far but hope to read more in the future. thank you for your service 🙇‍♂️

your work is so vast and underappreciated! i really need to take more time to look through your library. thank you for all the work you've put into it!

С:

"こんにちは、翻訳の努力を本当に感謝しています。あなたにはとても感謝しています。正直なところ、お気に入りを選ぶのは難しかったですが、中也の詩が好きなので、結局太宰をクリックしました。とにかく、本当にありがとうございます。良い一日をお過ごしください！"

今年、お疲れ様でした！Thank you for your work. Having access to more of the authors I was curious about led to me conducting a successful research project on Japanese literary fiction last year. This year, I've moved abroad to Japan to learn Japanese at university. I hope that I can contribute to the effort to kindle others' inspiration through translation and storytelling. Please have a happy new year!

[ahhnini]

temperance - frat!rafe x tarot!reader

warnings - rafe being a jealous guy, slow burning with rafe is slow burning, not proofread!

the star / the world / texts pt one

soft classical music played over the shop, you’d just finished a reading with a client and you’re making polite talk with him as you clean your space. rafe was in the back, making himself a cup of coffee.

“i’ve been really interested in these things but never got the chance to do any research, can you tell me more?” your client, derek, asks. you nod your head, showing him to the tarot aisle of your shop. all the meanwhile, rafe is leaning against the doorframe, keen eyes watching over you.

“here are the cards we have in stock! for first time users i’d recommend the classic rider tarot deck,” you pull one from off the shelf, “it was originally made in italy and has the most powerful symbolism. the guidebook that comes with this can be hard to read, but there’s a ton of free guidebooks online. we also have some physical copies of guidebooks if you wanna check ‘em out,” you smile, handing him the box. your hands brush against each other. feeling an electric shock run through your body, you flinch away. derek softly smiles at you, pushing a stray hair behind your ear, and you whisper a “thank you.” you then nod shortly, clearing your throat, “oh, you also need some incense to cleanse them before you begin bonding,” “bonding?”

he follows you to the corner filled with incense sticks, “yeah, so your cards can resonate with you. if you go right into readings they won’t resonate as much and you may get some overly negative readings if you don’t cleanse,” you hand him three sticks of incense, “you can use one, just giving you a couple extra!” you beam, his hand lingering over yours again. he softly chuckles, taking the sticks. “how do you ‘bond’ with your cards?” he asks, taking a step closer towards you.

“usually, after I cleanse them I put them under my pillow and sleep with it. then I start doing a reading on myself and keep doing said reading until everything starts to resonate,” you sigh, “it’s a long process, but it’s an efficient one.”

your lips form a small smile as he nods. you bring him to the checkout counter, ringing up his items, “thank you for your services again today, I really appreciate it. and thank you for telling me more about tarot,” your polite smile widens into a genuine one, “you’re very welcome, derek,” derek hands you a hundred dollar bill, and you open your register to give him his change before he interrupts you, “—you can keep the change,” your eyes widen and you stumble upon your words, “oh—thank you!” he lets out a soft hum, grabbing his bag. before he leaves your shop, he turns around, approaching you again, “I might forget the process of cleansing the cards and bonding or whatnot, so…in case I forget, do you mind if I call you?”

you lightly scoff, a soft giggle emitting from your lips, “smooth,” you click your tongue, handing him a business card, “here, that’s my personal number, but don’t tell everyone that,” he takes a glance at the card before exiting your store, the ringing of the bells overpowering the soft music for a moment.

“smooth?” rafe walks over to you, eyes dark. you cross your arms, facing him. “yeah? it was,” you shrug. he rolls his eyes, “you’re not actually gonna call him, right?” “why not? if he needs help with his cards i’m gonna give help,” you try to squeeze past him, but his broad frame doesn’t let you through. “rafe. relax,” “he was flirting!” his eyes widen and his arms flail in the air. “no shit he was, besides, i’m only gonna give him tarot advi—are you jealous?” rafe’s face turns bright pink, no longer being able to hold eye contact with you, “n-no,” “oh, rafe cameron is jealous,” you poke at his chest playfully.

“just don’t want you to be calling him while we’re sharing a room, I like my peace and quiet,” his voice is soft.

“uh-huh…” you reply, walking back to your workstation as you mumble to yourself, “definitely jealous.”

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[snapscube]

"Midnight Snap" is a new series of long, soothing let's plays designed to help you sleep! No sudden spikes in energy or volume, and no mid-roll ads! My job is to create an environment where you can safely drift off, calm a racing mind, or even just fill an otherwise quiet night with a friendly voice.

Tonight's premiere episode brings you 6+ hours of a very cozy and nostalgic Animal Crossing: New Leaf, recorded over 2 weeks or so of real-world time!

If this concept sounds appealing to you and you'd like to see more, please check it out at the link above and consider sharing to those who might also be interested!

But wait, there's more: those of you who would prefer to listen audio-only can do so COMPLETELY FREE on my Patreon page! All episodes will be open to the public at no charge, HOWEVER if you do choose to support the page (which helps a ton!) then you can receive the show in a very handy RSS link which you can add to your podcast app of choice!

If ever, however, and whenever you listen, I hope you find any enjoyment and/or comfort in this series! Thank you!!

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3

my masterlist!

part one and part two!

summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.

warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.

a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3

———

There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.

This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.

Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.

That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.

You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.

So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.

You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?

Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.

But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.

You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.

Not normal, you don’t think.

However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.

If he considers you as that.

Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.

You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—

The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.

Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.

Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.

If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.

You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.

You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.

I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.

Without me? Rude.

You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.

I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.

You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?

You stress over it either way.

well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?

To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.

You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.

Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.

At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.

Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.

———

You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.

And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.

Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.

You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.

But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.

His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.

Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.

“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”

He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.

“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”

“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”

“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you get one for you?”

“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.

You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.

He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.

You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.

“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.

You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.

The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.

“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.

“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”

That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.

“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.

His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.

He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”

“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.

“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”

“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”

He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”

“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.

“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.

You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.

“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.

“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.

You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.

“So do I…” You flush.

“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”

“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.

“Might have to see it one day.”

“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.

“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.

“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.

And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?

Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?

He draws a breath, “So am I.”

You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.

Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.

So the wine maybe was a great idea…?

He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”

“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.

“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.

“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.

But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.

You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.

Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.

Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.

Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.

You look at him quizzically.

“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.

You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.

“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.

Which, who could blame you?

“What are y’doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.

“Oh, is that so darling?”

You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”

“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.

You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.

He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.

And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.

“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.

You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.

“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.

The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.

“I’m down.” (Bad)

A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.

Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?

Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.

———

The plan infact, was flawless.

To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.

I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.

You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.

He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.

You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.

You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.

“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.

It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!

You struggle to form a coherent response.

“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.

Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.

Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.

“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.

“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.

Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.

The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.

“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.

“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.

“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”

“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.

You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.

“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”

“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.

This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”

He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.

Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.

“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.

He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.

After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.

You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.

It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.

He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”

He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.

Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.

The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.

Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.

And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.

Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.

Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…

Well… who even knows anymore?

Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.

And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.

Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.

But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.

“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“

“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.

“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”

To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”

You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.

It went so fast.

“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.

“Not sick of m’yet?”

“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.

“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”

Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”

You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”

“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”

Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”

“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.

You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.

You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.

He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.

———

Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.

And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.

At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.

harryflorals:

what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.

And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.

Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?

It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.

And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.

So, cats officially out of the bag.

———

y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves

update: next part, PART 4!

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #01)

Welcome to Fluffuary 2024! Check out the schedule here. This will be a multi-chapter story where the theme of each chapter is guided by the daily schedule. While they are meant to be read back-to-back, they can be read as one-shots, too. Thanks for being here! 🩷

They say that good fences make good neighbors, but when you share an apartment balcony with a handsome, kind, and single British SAS captain, you start to wonder if a fence is going to be enough to keep you away.

My blog is always restricted (MDNI) despite the fact that these works will contain very little smut.

FEB01: First Meeting

There was a strange man in your apartment’s foyer. He was dressed in olive green cargo pants, laced black boots, and a bomber jacket. On his head, a black woolen beanie sat just over his ears. His face was covered in a well-groomed beard, and his entire body filled the room. This man was enormous. Too big, you thought, for a normal man to be. He seemed like one of those characters at a theme park, dressed in carved foam, every part of them comically disproportionate to the tiny children screaming around them for hugs and attention. 

You watched as he tried to use the elevator, and you melted a bit. He must have just moved in. That damn deathtrap hadn’t worked for the whole four years you’d lived here, and even if the doors did open, you could push every button that it had to offer and it still wouldn’t carry you up even an inch. You noticed that his hands, also too large, tightened their grip on a rattling, overstuffed cardboard box, so you made a quick comment,

“Are you just moving in?”

He turned, noticing you for the first time, and he smiled. That made his enormity much more palatable.

“Aye,” his British accent was distractingly strong, “I’m John.”

John shifted the weight of the box to his hip so he could shake your hand properly. He seemed like the kind of person who thought that a handshake in a first meeting was very important, so you stacked up your mail and keys into your left hand and offered him your right, letting his huge paw envelop your whole palm. 

You told him your name, and you filled him in,

“Elevator’s been broken for years. You’re not going anywhere in that thing, and to be honest, I’d pay money not to.”

He chuckled, warm and deep, like a bass drum, and you enjoyed the way his eyes wrinkled as his smile reached them, 

“Alright. Stairs it is.”

As you slogged your way upstairs, you chatted about all of the usual things. You discovered that he was in the British armed forces, and he was staying in Bethesda for an extended time, serving with some Americans. It was all very vague and cagey, but you’d been in the capitol and its surrounding towns for close to a decade now, so secretive answers were very much the norm. 

You told him about your job as a student advocate. You worked from home most of the time, but you served students in tens of schools and districts around the region. He seemed to take quite a keen interest in your work, lauding you for your willingness to fight for student rights. You were such a lone wolf most of the time, it felt lovely for someone to finally take notice. 

He kept following you, past floors three and four. By the time you reached your floor, the last one, you asked him,

“What apartment are you, if you don’t mind me asking. There’s only two per level, so you might’ve walked past it.”

He sighed,

“I’m all the way up. Just my luck right? 501B.”

“I’m 501A,” you stopped walking as the landing leveled off, pointing a thumb over your shoulder at your door. 

He grinned, a little rakishly you thought, 

“I might be luckier than I thought.”

You let his words wash over you for a minute, his rapt attention on you making your breath catch, and then you offered,

“Do you need some help getting in? Lemme hold that for you.”

“Aye, thanks.”

He popped open the door with a bit of a shove from his shoulder and trod inside. You followed him tentatively, not wanting to intrude on his space.

“I haven’t had a neighbor in years. Not a permanent one anyway. They all claim this unit is haunted,” you laughed, setting his box down on the countertop.

“Haunted? Well, I’ve met a few ghosts in my time. Should be alright.”

His way of smoothing out all of his words, purring them from his chest, was lulling you into a false sense of safety. Here you were, in the depths of this giant man’s empty kitchen, and you had forgotten all of your decorum somewhere down the stairs. 

You turned to leave and he caught you, snaring you with his voice, 

“Hey, it was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’ll see you around,” you smiled politely, clutching your mail to your chest like a shield.

“You will,” he said, watching your retreat with a cool fascination.

As you slinked back into your place, shutting and locking the door behind you, you hung on that promise like a hook, realizing that you were very much looking forward to having that immense, burly man next door.

AO3 Link

[hellishfig]

just finished listening to episode 34 of worlds beyond number, "something to remember you by," which is the end of arc 3 of the wizard, the witch, and the wild one, and i feel sick from how incredible it was. the physical reactions my body made to some of the words and music in this podcast really took me by surprise. i'm still reeling.

some thoughts:

i'm so happy that suvi is questioning the citadel, her reaction to silver's letter was inspired, and i LOVED her interactions with the quartermaster. she's so clever and intimidating (holy shit that was HOT), but i'm worried about what's happening to silver. i have an inkling that the witches may have already started making moves alongside the man in black, and i wonder how that will affect suvi going forward. and going to try and save silver before returning their "precious cargo" to the citadel... i hope suvi can keep questioning, and that whatever she faces, she doesn't let the justification machine run its course any longer.

eursulon meeting up with tefmet was really cool. i enjoyed the return of the strongest man in silbury immensely. it was extremely funny. and then, when eursulon asked to help and succeeded on his persuasion checks, it was solemnly touching. i love eursulon's power being in steadfast support and protection, and how to him, it's not about opposing the citadel in its entirety, it's about saving spirits, great and small, from those who would use them. and that's something he can do while still protecting his true friends.

ame let the chaos OUT this episode, and it was delightful and nerve wracking and thrilling to listen to. she's very bossy and it's so funny to hear how immediately eursulon goes along with it, despite not knowing what "it" is. growing up watching grandma wren, she seems to have gained a natural authority that makes people who love her listen to her when she asks them to perform innocuous menial tasks. but that's also interesting, because her chaos is focused, if imprecise. she knows what she needs to do and will do it, damn the consequences. as long as she can get away, who cares what she leaves in her wake? that's a problem for future ame.

they stole some brass knockers and a lion! they kidnapped nif to save her from being killed by indri! tof burned bright to free a vrock! suvi heads to war, eursulon and ame TO TOMA! (i almost cried when eursulon said those words and the music swelled. what the fuck, lou. what the FUCK taylor and jared. i'm not okay!!!)

and then of course, brockvale. holly hill. the resting place of sir curran of the hawthorn, who unknowingly sent eursulon on a quest that would lead him to our story. the man in black, the pilgrim under stars, the king of knight, the stranger, holds sir curran's shield. he comes to make an offer. will this poor old guard bid a weary traveler to step over this threshold?

this is why worlds beyond number feels so different to me from other dnd shows and podcasts. these artists have come together with the shared goal of not just playing a fun game that they all enjoy, but with the express aim of crafting a brilliant story. i love a goofy campaign full of shenanigans as much as the next person, but i adore how every choice in this show is given weight and meaning. there are no decisions made for laughs. it doesn't feel like playing a game. it feels like living in the story.

and there are also moments like the ending of this episode. a snapshot of elsewhere in the world, something the players don't know, but the audience gets to. it fills out the edges of the story and provides a richer tapestry of lore and reasoning behind the machinations of those who oppose our heroes. it gives life to the tale.

my heart is beating so fast. this show is incredible. thank you, @worldsbeyondpod , for the world you're creating.