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lockes-woods · 5 months ago

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That's on Period(t)

(1/2)

A/N:

Mihawk eases your period pain in a way only he knows how. This was supposed to be a short drabble pwp, but apparently, I can't write straight smut, I have to have a plot. No request; just the ramblings of a dysphoric enby.

Mihawk x reader (x Shanks in spirit)

Content warning; period sex, dysphoria, fingering, and P in V sex.

MDNI

This low-key ended up being 4715 words (longer than most of my chapters in my other fics). This one kinda got away from me, hopefully, it's coherent.

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An unintentional groan escaped you as you shifted in your seat trying to find a comfortable position. Despite the fact that you had been camped out on your couch for the better part of the past ten hours nothing felt right. You felt powerless as another onslaught of cramps started in your lower abdomen. You whined as you hugged your heating pad as close as you possibly could to your lower stomach, praying to whoever was listening that it would stop. At this point, you wish you could cut yourself open and stuff it inside of you. Every sharp pain felt like your uterus was screaming to make its presence known. That paired with the breast tenderness that made it impossible to bind left you feeling like a dysphoric wreck.

It didn’t help that the last time you were out you kept getting misgendered by everyone you encountered from older women needing help reaching the top shelf in the grocery store to the pharmacy tech that helped you fill your birth control prescription. The latter also dead naming you because you haven’t been able to legally change your name yet. If you weren’t so desperate to make sure you could start up on your next pack as soon as possible you would have avoided that interaction altogether. Logically you knew they were just doing their job, but it was still a shitty situation to go through when you already felt awful. You were counting down the time in hours til you could start your next pack of birth control and put a stop to this mess.

You just had to wait til Sunday at seven in the morning when you took that along with your other morning medications. You immediately regretted glancing down at the time on your phone. The countdown you had going on informed you that you still had eighty-two and a half hours of your period left. You sighed to yourself; you still have over three days to go. You were just thankful that you had off from work today. You needed time alone after all the triggering encounters you had the day before. Most of them wouldn’t even have been a blip on your radar normally, but your hormone imbalances made each small inconvenience feel life-altering. That was the main reason you hated your period, while the dysphoria and physical pain sucked, it was most annoying not being able to regulate your emotions regularly. You still felt bad about snapping at your roommate before he left for his shift.

Shanks was always annoying and a bit of a brat but his comment about how cute you looked in your Christmas pajama pants and oversized t-shirt (that you had stolen from him) was the last straw. He was always playfully flirting with you. While you knew it meant nothing to him it pulled at your heart as a constant reminder you would never be anything more than friends. It wasn’t like you wanted him to break up with his boyfriend. It was quite the opposite you often wished the three of you could be something more but you knew that was a pipe dream. You still felt sensitive about your lingering crush on him and his boyfriend. Those feelings were only amplified by your hormone imbalance.

You had told him to fuck off and threw pillows at his head til he made his way out of the apartment. While this was far from the first time you had told him to fuck off it was the first time you said it in a genuine tone; instead of your normal playful way. You knew you would just need to buy him a beer the next time you went out to apologize, but it still made you cry in frustration as soon as you were alone in the apartment. Because of the nature of his job as a firefighter you hated leaving things on a bad note before his shifts. It was in a similar vein as the old saying that you should never go to sleep angry. Despite your exhaustion, you’d probably end up staying up until he got home at one in the morning out of guilt.

Speaking of Shanks, his boyfriend, and your defacto third roommate, should be home soon from his twelve-hour shift at the hospital. You had an anxious turn in your stomach at the thought of him. You hoped that he hadn’t told Mihawk about your altercation. It was already hard to get a read on him and you didn’t know if you could handle him being mad at you while your emotions were already a hot mess. You tried not to focus on it as you queued up another episode of your comfort show and snuggled deeper into your secondhand couch. You absent-mindedly snacked on the candy and chips you had strewn about the coffee table. Your eyes began to droop as you took in the familiar storyline you had seen countless times. You had just begun to phase out into sleep as you heard the familiar opening and firm shutting of the apartment door. A groan was pulled from your throat as you suddenly shot up into a sitting position causing a cramp to shoot through you. Blinking up with bleary eyes you took in Mihawk slipping out of his shoes and placing them on the rack next to the door.

“Hey, Angel did I wake you?” Mihawk asked, staring down at you with his honeysuckle eyes, as he slipped off and hung up his work bag.

“No?” You said, shifting in your seat for a more comfortable position. Your passing grimace as another round of cramps cut through you wasn’t lost on Mihawk.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked, taking a seat on the armchair facing you.

“Not really,” you sighed, “I’ve been tethered to this heating pad all day and the Tylenol I took barely took the edge off of my cramps. I wish I wasn’t allergic to ibuprofen.” You groaned as the cramping continued.

“Have you tried any alternative methods to relieve the pain?” he asked.

“Like what?” you asked back, outside of drugs and heating pads you weren’t aware of any other methods to ease cramps.

“I’ve heard orgasms are a good method to combat menstrual cramps.” He answered casually. You immediately broke eye contact and began to play with the frayed edges of your well-loved heating pad. You could feel the heat rush to your face at his suggestion. While you weren’t a virgin, you were still kinda prudent when it came to things of a sexual nature. You were getting better at feeling less embarrassed about discussions involving sex, but it was times like these that you reverted back to your abstinence-only upbringing. It didn’t help that one of your closest friend’s very attractive boyfriend was the one prompting the conversation. You were so in your head that you didn’t hear Mihawk shift from the recliner to the cushion next to you on the couch until you felt the coldness of his hand tilting your chin upward to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way, it was just a suggestion. You know we hate seeing you in pain.” He said.

“It-It’s okay, I just don’t know if the mess is worth it.” You said meeting his gaze. Your heart softened at the concerned look in his eyes. It almost made you want to cry.

“You could always do it in the shower?” he suggested.

“What about the no fucking in common areas rule?” you ask, the look Mihawk gave you was more than enough to confirm what you already suspected.

“You motherfuckers,” you started pulling out of his grasp and swinging a pillow at him full force, “You really broke the one rule I had before you moved in?!”

“To be fair we had already broken the rule before and I moved in,” Mihawk responded with a slight upturn of his lip, “I believe Shanks’ exact reasoning was that we were grandfather in.”

“You’re the only other people who live here! Who else would it be for?!” you responded raising your voice at the prospect of Shanks’ audacity. You were about to hit him with the pillow again, before dropping it once you realized what it could have come in contact with.

“Both of you are cleaning this apartment from top to bottom on your next day off,” you say glaring up at him.

“That feels more than fair,” Mihawk responded, a smirk still present on his face. You were about to lay into him more before another wave of cramps made its way through your lower abdomen.

“Now are you going to shower?” Mihawk asked, promptingly.

“It wouldn’t work anyway,” you sigh turning your gaze back to the cloth covering your heating pad.

“How do you know before you’ve even tried it?” Mihawk asked.

“I i-it won’t-” you started, “I c-can’t” You tried again before giving up and attempting to make a hot exit back to your room. Mihawk locked his hand around your wrist in a firm, but gentle grip as your feet hit the ground. You could feel the heat of embarrassment spread from your face to your ears, back down to your chest.

“What can’t you do?” he asked calmly, keeping a steady grip on you.

“I-I, fuck,” you sighed, before reluctantly meeting his gaze, “I’venevermademyselfcum” You rush out attempting to get away, before Mihawk’s other hand grips onto your other wrist.

“Have you ever cum?” he asked, with no trace of judgment in his voice.

“I mean yeah, but only with certain partners. It’s not like I’m seeing anyone now, so it’s pointless to even attempt it.” You sigh, sliding back into your seat with a pout. Mihawk released his grip on your wrists once it became apparent that you were not going to try and run away again.

“Do you want help?” Mihawk asked. You almost laughed before meeting his gaze and realizing that his offer was completely genuine.

“But-Shanks,” was all you managed to get out before your brain stalled out. You were half a second from spirally before he gently cupped your face and pulled your attention back to him.

“Shanks will be fine with it, trust me,” Mihawk said as he gently ran his thumb against your cheek; gaze never leaving yours. “The only reason I can think of that would make him upset is the fact that I’d be with you first.”

“But-how?” you asked, still trying to absorb this new information.

“Shanks has been holding a torch for you for years,” Mihawk said, “He’s liked you from the moment you met.”

“Why’d he never make a move?” you asked after a moment.

“He did the night you met, but you just thought he was being friendly.” Mihawk explained, “He didn’t want to lose you, so he took on the role of a friend.”

“But we’ve been friends for over three years,” you responded, “He was the first friend I made in the city,”

“Trust me I know. I was jealous of you for the longest time, but after getting to know you I get why he didn’t want to lose you,” Mihawk confessed. He gave you a moment to process before continuing, “We’d love to be with you if you’d have us,”

“Wait-So is it an open relationship? Are you like polyamorous?” You ask trying to process all of what Mihawk had just told you, but your brain was too busy buffering.

“I believed it would be considered closed polyamory,” Mihawk said stroking your bottom lip with his thumb, “There would be three of us, and any of us can be together, but there would not be any additional people,” he explained, patiently. You nodded pensively, as you began to get what he was saying.

“Okay,” you reply after a minute.

“Okay? Like you’re in?” Mihawk asked to clarify.

“Yeah, I’m still not totally sure what the logistics would be, but I know I want you both.” You confessed looking up at him through your lashes. Mihawk didn’t waste a momentary second before pulling you in for a desperate kiss. You moaned as his tongue came into contact with yours for the first time, you let him lead the kiss. One of his hands remained cupping your face the other gripped your waist and pulled you into his lap. A gasp escaped you as you felt his hard-on press against your core. You let out a loud unobstructed moan as he pulled back from the kiss and began to nip down your neck, while shamelessly grinding up against you.

“Fuck, Mihawk” you whine, before his lips once again connected with yours. You instinctually wrapped your legs around his waist and looped your arms around his neck as he stood up from the couch and made his way to the bathroom. He delicately placed you on the bathroom counter, you whined at his loss as he pulled back and stripped off his top. You bit your lip to contain a groan as you took in his backside when he turned to turn on the shower. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him shirtless, but it was the first time you felt okay checking him out. Steam began to envelop the bathroom as he stalked back towards you.

“Are you sure you’re okay going from kissing straight to period sex?” You asked looking up at him.

“Angel, I’m a surgical resident; little blood isn’t going to scare me off,” he said, with a small quirk on his lips, “Are you okay with going straight to sex?” he asked as he stroked the waistband of your pajama pants.

“Yes, Sir” you answered, a mischievous smile never leaving your lips as Mihawk gripped your chin and jerked your face upward in a firm grip.

“What did you just say Angel?” he asked with an unsettling air of calmness.

“Sir,” you responded smugly, doubling down, “That is what you like Shanks to call you right?” you asked, “Or is there someone else he’s calling out to when he cums?”

“Darling, I’d tread lightly if I were you; I’d hate to have to spend our first time together correcting your behavior.” He said, stroking your cheek.

“So, you don’t want me to call you Sir?” you asked, with an air of faux innocence. You bit your lip to contain your smile as you saw a phantom twitch in his right eye. You had only ever seen Shanks be able to warrant that reaction. You decided to reel in your teasing before you crossed to the point of no return.

“Angel, as long as you’re cumming on my cock you can call me whatever you’d like,” he whispered into your ear, nipping at it. The smirk returned to his face as an involuntary whine left your lips.

“Now, I’ll ask you again. Do you want this?” he asked pulling back to see your whole face.

“Yes,” you whined as a wave of cramps shot through you; reminding you of why you were here in the first place.

“And your safe word?” he asked.

“Peach,” you answered, “Yours?”

“Code,” he answered, “Do you have any hard stops?”

“Just please don’t touch my chest or refer to me in feminine terms.” You say trying your hardest to maintain eye contact while being vulnerable.

“Of course, darling,” he said pecking your forehead, “Is it okay if I take this off?” he asked tugging at your oversized top. You nod enthusiastically lifting your arms to help him. Once it’s off you tug off your pajama pants and period underwear leaving you bare. It takes everything in your power not to cover your chest as Mihawk takes you in; a soft look on his face.

“What?” you ask after a moment.

“I always knew you were a beauty, but I never expected you to be this lovely,” he answered earnestly stroking up and down your sides. You could feel the heat return to your face at his genuine response.

“Can we get in the shower now? I don’t want to bleed on the counter” you ask looking up at him. He nodded; your comment seemed to snap him out of his daze. He once again had you wrapped your legs around his waist as he picked you up and walked over to the shower. He shed his pants and underwear before stepping in. A pleasant sigh escaped you as the hot water graced your skin. Thankfully you and Mihawk both preferred showers that were just below scalding. He placed you down and turned you so that his front was to your back. The shower head spray was adjusted to hit your lower stomach and core. An involuntary whine escaped you as you felt his hard-on pressed against your back. You were about to start grinding back against it before Mihawk placed a firm hand on your hip to keep you in place.

“Patience, love,” he said, reaching down to rest his other hand above your mound, “I have to prep you first; is this okay,” he asked reaching between your legs. You nodded, spreading your legs to give him better access.

“Words,” he said, hovering right above where you wanted him.

“Please, Sir,” you whine, unable to grind up to meet him because of his other hand holding you stationary. He hummed in approval finally stroking over your slit. He made a few agonizingly slow passes before finally breaching your slit. He again traced your entrance twice before inserting a single finger.

“Please, Sir more,” you whined, “I can take it-” You started before a moan cut through you as he ground his palm against your clit. He looped his arm around your waist pulling you back so that you could rest your body weight against him giving him better access to your core.

“Shh, it’s okay, just let Sir take care of you,” he responded, placing a kiss behind your right ear, before kissing and sucking his way down to your shoulder. You fell lax against his sturdy frame as he slipped another finger into your core, he pulled another whine from you as his fingers thrusted and curled around your front wall. He easily hit spots you could only dream of reaching on your own. A cry erupted from you as he suddenly increased his pace and depth of his fingers. Now every thrust had his palm smacking down on your clit. His own urges reared its head as he began to shamelessly grind against your back. You moan in response as your own resolve fades quickly as the coil inside you winds tighter and tighter.

“It’s okay Angel, you can let you. Just give me one and I’ll let you cum on my cock as many times as you like,” he said encouragingly, before pulling you in for a desperate kiss. You put up more resistance than you did in your initial kiss causing him to nip at your bottom lip. Simultaneously his arm wrapped around your waist loosened and joined his other hand at your core. You moan into the kiss as he began to rub your clit in succession with his thrust. Your climax began to build as you both found a rhythm. You had just gotten used to the rhythm when he suddenly pinched your clit. Your climax snapped through you at the sudden change in stimulation. Your pussy held his fingers in a vice grip as you rode out your high on his hand.

You fell fully slack against him as you came down from your high.

“Fuck so good Angel,” he praised slowly easing his fingers out of your core, “Knew you’d be perfect.”

“Sir, please,” you whined grinding back against him.

“Love,” he said in a warning tone hand back at its station on your hip.

“I want you, please Sir, I wanna be full again,” you moan as the momentary relief from cramps lapsed and the pain in your core returned. You stretched your head over your shoulder, pulling him in for another kiss. You were so focused on his mouth you didn’t realize he had switched positions until the coldness of the tiled wall met your back. You pulled back in a daze now front to front. You were snapped back to reality when you pulled back and felt the twitch of his cock against your stomach. Your eyes widened as you took in his size. You now understood why Shanks was so loud during sex, if you were being fucked by that on the reg you’d be screaming too.

“Sir,” you say hesitantly breaking eye contact with his cock and looking up at him.

“It’ll fit,” he said, seemingly reading your mind. He rubbed reassuring circles into your hips with his thumbs, “We’ll go slow. I’ll make it worth your while if you can be patient for just a little bit longer.”

“Unless you want to stop now, I won’t be mad if it’s too much for you right now,” he said offering you an out.

“No-” You answered quickly, “I mean, I’m comfortable continuing,” You corrected yourself, trying to play off how desperate you were for his cock. Despite your efforts, a knowing smirk still pulled across Mihawk’s face.

“Are you sure?” he asked teasingly,

“Yes,” you replied much calmer than your last response. He nodded hiking your right leg over his hip for better access.

“Are you ready?” he confirmed one more time. He began to tease his tip between your folds as you said yes one last time. His cock was soon lubed up with your blood and slick as he gently pushed the head of his dick into your entrance. He rocked back and forth slowly allowing you time to adjust to his jarring size.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he bottomed out. You found it almost impossible to focus on anything other than the pulses of his member deep inside of you.

“Shh, relax darling; I got you,” he said, pressing you firmer into the wall as he once again scooped you up into his arms. Both of your legs were wrapped around his middle as he leaned into you to keep you from sliding down the wall. You were effectively sandwiched between him and the wall. You held onto him for dear life as he suddenly began to thrust into you at a slow pace.

“More, please” you whined desperately. You were so full of him that his tip just kissed your cervix without pressing into it uncomfortably. While the slow pace was nice at first as you adjusted it began to drive you mad as you wished more than anything that he would start to fuck you like he means it.

“Patients,” he cooed down at you with a self-satisfied look, “I don’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, tears beginning to kiss at the corners of your eyes. You wanted, no need to cum. The languid pace he had set was driving you mad.

“Sir, please,” you whined desperately.

“Please, what Angel?” he asked, the stupid smirk still plastered on his face.

“Fast,” you panted.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, with fake ignorance.

“Fuck, please!” you border-lined shouted, “I’ll do whatever you want, please fuck me” you cried as tears began to fall down your face in two lines, one below each eye.

“Anything?” He asked bemused with a smirk, speeding up slightly, but not enough to make cum any faster than before.

“Yes,” you cried. He hummed in fake contemplation before responding.

“Okay, but you owe me one,” he answered coyly before he slowly pulled out and slammed back into you full force. A sigh of relief leaves you before he leans down. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you at the new angle. He quickened his pace, stroking longer and deeper inside you at every thrust. Your nails dug into the pristine white plane of his back leaving scratched down the stretch of his upper back as you tried to hold on the best you could. All you could do was helplessly moan as Mihawk used you as he pleased.

“Fuck,” he moaned, followed by a deep groan of your name. You could feel the pleasure building up in your core as you quickly approached your end.

“Fuck, please Sir can I cum? I’m so clos-” you started before you were cut off by your own moan. Tears began to prick at your eyes again, not out of frustration like earlier, but at the pure feeling of overstimulation you were now experiencing. “I’m sooo close please Sir” you whined.

“Go ahead Angel,” he said before pulling you in for a desperate kiss that he dominated. That was all the permission you needed; your body seized up like you were possessed as your orgasm ripped through you. Your pussy milking Mihawk’s cock for all it was worth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled out seconds before his own orgasm. He painted your stomach with his release, as your empty cunt clenched around nothing. He carefully lowered you back to the floor as you both tried to get your heart rates down to normal levels. He made quick work of cleaning your body as he raced against the now lukewarm water falling against your body. He had just managed to finish cleaning both of you seconds before the water went cold. He took his time drying your body, before bundling you up in one of his towels and placing you on the ledge of the tub.

A shiver ripped through your spent form as the cold air of your air-conditioned apartment invaded the space when he opened the door. A yawn escaped you as you patiently waited for him to come back. Your eyes had just begun to droop when he came back clad only in a pair of boxer briefs. He helped you into a pair of your period underwear and an oversized shirt. You bit your lip to contain your smile as you took in the logo of his medical school across the chest of the t-shirt. He had specifically gotten a shirt from his room instead of one of the ones you had stolen from Shanks over the years. You sleepily followed him through the living room and down the hall to the doors of your bedrooms.

On autopilot, you turned left to go to your room before a gentle tug on your wrist stopped your movement. You sleepily glance up at Mihawk and tilted your head in lieu of talking.

“You can stay in our room if you want,” he offered avoiding eye contact as a blush bloomed on his cheeks.

“Oh, okay,” you say as the proposition snaps you out of your daze. You followed Mihawk in and crawled into the bed.

“Wait, what about Shanks?” you asked.

“What about him?” Mihawk asked back.

“Would it make him feel weird to share a bed with me without a heads up?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“No,” Mihawk said, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips, “I think it’d be a nice surprise; especially after a long shift.”

“Oh, okay,” you reply as fatigue begins to overtake your body.

“Do you need anything else before we go to sleep?” Mihawk asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Um, maybe my heating pad and some water,” you answer.

“Okay,” he nodded, taking off back to the living room and kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile as you lay enveloped in their scents. You managed to stay awake just long enough to take a few swigs of water and position yourself on your side with the heating pad flush against your lower abdomen. Mihawk curled up behind you, your fingers interlaced over your heating pad. You slept better than you had in a long time, especially for being on your period. You couldn’t tell if you had dreamt it or not, but you could have sworn someone had pecked your forehead and cocooned you between their chest and Mihawk’s. The faint smell of sandalwood was the last sensation your body recognized before drifting off to the next dream.

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PART 2

A/N:

Hope you enjoyed this one shot! Hopefully, this can find some other baddies suffering through their period. As always thanks for taking the time to read.

-Locke

#mihawk x you #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #modern au #smut #period sex #18+ mdni #mishanks #gender dysphoria #cross posted on ao3 #nonbinary reader #afab reader

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epicbuddieficrecs · 10 months ago

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Weekly Recap | January 8th-14th 2024

TWO MONTHS UNTIL SEASON 7!!!

I'm sorry it's late and I'm sorry if I missed anyone but my ao3 history was sortof a mess 😩 I think maybe some userscript I downloaded is fucking up my history. oh well. (or else someone has hacked my ao3 account and has been reading House M.D. fanfic?!?!? (how the fuck did I even get in my history, I don't even remember searching for anything that had House fics in the results wtf))

Complete

Followed By Ghosts by itsanapothecary (Canon Divergent, S1-S2 | 21K | Teen): Instead of hiding the truth about Daniel from their children, Margaret and Philip memorialize their lost son in every one of their remaining children's accomplishments. Growing up, neither Maddie nor Buck felt like they could escape the shadow of their brother. When Buck finds the 118, he gets a chance to be his own person, although the looming attention from his parents and weight of expectations threatens to jeopardize what he's built in Los Angeles.

no harm, no foul by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (Getting Together | 5K | Mature): Eddie knows how Buck feels. Buck knows how Eddie feels. So why is Eddie giving him the cold shoulder instead of talking about it?

what to do when evan buckley breaks into your house at 3:17 in the morning by oklahoma/ @malewifediaz (Love Confessions | 3K | Teen): After a night out drinking with Maddie, Buck (kind of) breaks in to Eddie’s house.

Wait For It by oliviacirce (PWP, Post-S6E6: Cursed | 8K | Explicit): Buck kind of liked not jerking off.

in a fix by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Getting Together, PWP | 4K | Explicit): Buck gets himself into a bit of a sticky situation, and Eddie helps him out.

we were lucky once (could be lucky again) by hattalove/ @hattalove (Post-Break Up | 1K | Teen): which they're not together anymore, but they can't sleep apart.

Mark Me Like a Bloodstain (Burning Red) by sirencalls/ @usersiren (Vampire Eddie, Post-S4, PWP | 3K | Explicit): “Eddie, you’re freezing,” Buck says, worry creeping into his tone. “Eddie, we need to get you to the hospital—” “No.” His voice is echoey and strange, definitively not human, and he picks up on the way Buck’s pulse quickens. Fuck, he’s scaring Buck. The human part of him is ashamed, guilty for making Buck ever be afraid of him. The vampire part of him is delighted, is even more wanting because of it, and that’s why he calls himself a monster.

Kinktober 2021 series by sirencalls/ @usersiren (PWP | 31 works | 68K | Explicit)

all that is you makes up all that is me by soyxunxperdedor/ @messyhairdiaz (Post-S6E11 | 1K | General): “I was just checking if you’re ready…” Eddie says faintly, trailing off as his eyes track the path of the lightning seared across Buck’s skin. -or- In the aftermath of a lightning strike, Buck and Eddie have a conversation.

Long Overdue by mansikka (PWP | 3K | Mature): Eddie realizes his feelings for Buck are more than platonic; what's he supposed to do now?

kiss me, kiss me (i don't know if i can let you go) by ipretendtobesane/ @useramor (Getting Together, Accidental Kissing | 10K | General): If anyone ever asks- they were both drunk. Eddie knows they weren’t, he and Buck don’t like to drink during the week, regardless of whether or not they work the next day. If they are working, they don’t want to be out of it on the job, and if they’re not they don’t want to be out of it when Christopher wakes up the next morning at 7:00am with more energy than either of them can handle. But there’s not really a good explanation otherwise. No other way to explain why, as Buck was walking out the door, Eddie leaned in and gave him a soft kiss goodnight.

til there was you by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Hurt Buck, Married Buddie | 16K | Mature): In which Buck's appendix tries to kill him in the middle of a busy shift, and Eddie has to stage a dramatic rescue.

spread a little christmas cheer by soyxunxperdedor/ @messyhairdiaz (Post-S3E10: Christmas Spirit, PWP | 1K | Explicit): Eddie has a realization at the Christmas party and goes the wrong way with it.

do you love me? all you gotta do is say yes by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Friends to Fiances, Crack | 3K | Teen): “It’s always pretty fun to see a former fuckboy from your grad school era bootycall list all domestic and settled down.” or, two boy best friends and an ex lover walk into a grocery store. everyone is on their normalest behaviour.

🔥 Echoes of Your Name by sirencalls/ @usersiren (Canon Divergence, PWP, Sex Worker Buck | 9K | Explicit): Of course he’s immediately wary of it. Porn videos have never worked for Eddie, so why would the audio version of them be any different? It’s the same strangers faking the same moans and whines as the other actors, just without a pretty face to go with it. Eddie thinks it’ll almost be less effective—seeing every tiny reaction that someone has to what you’re doing to them is part of the fun—so he doesn’t have high expectations. He doesn’t expect it to work.

marry me, eddie diaz by elisela/ @elisela (Marriage Proposal | 1K | General): There’s a long silence, and then, “you do that a lot,” Eddie says, looking over at him strangely. “I do what a lot?” “Ask me to marry you,” Eddie says. “I know it’s just a joke, but I feel like—” he stops and shakes his head, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

sit present in the darkness by elisela (Post-Shooting, Established Buddie | 4K | General): In the midst of stories about their jobs, catching up on what the kids have said, and making endless fun of each other, Eddie’s sitting at his seat with his phone face down on the table in front of him. Occasionally it will buzz and he’ll look around the table, pick it up when he thinks no one is watching. He types something quickly, looks over his shoulder at the kid’s table—where Buck has been since the food was brought to them—and puts it down again. Face down. Karen knows this game. She’s played it before, almost lost.

WIP

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 13/? | 31K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

🔥 and if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Canon Divergent Season 6, Friends with Benefits | 2/18 | 9K | Explicit): or, an alternate look at season 6 where buck and eddie have been casually sleeping together since before the beginning of the season. somehow, this changes both everything and nothing at all.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 106/? | 290K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 9/? | 15K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.

🔥 for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 12/? | 105K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

🔥 Right Where You Left Me by hyacinthusbloom/ @thebloomingheather (Canon Divergent, Post-S4, Angst | 21/? | 106K | Explicit | ❗️Warning: Rape/Non-con): "Therapy?" Eddie suggests. Buck almost laughs, but instead says, "I'll go if you go." Because he had fully expected him to be chicken shit, to disagree, and instead Eddie, the bastard, replies, "Deal." Or Buck never tells anyone that he slept with his therapist and deals with the butterfly effect years later.

🔥 a foundation of trust and love we cannot see by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (FWB, BDSM, Sub Eddie, Dom Buck | 2/17 | 24K | Explicit): “It’s like I want to explore it and dive into it, but it’s not exactly like I’m seeing someone to try this all out with,” he explains, doing his best to keep down the annoyed huff that threatens to escape him at every other word. Buck nods to himself before steadily going silent. For a minute, Eddie thinks that this is the end of their conversation. “I can show you if you’d like.” Eddie nearly chokes on his beer.

Love Ends. by rowan_wood (Exes to Lovers | 5/17 | 7K | Explicit): But what if it doesn't?

Re-read

🔥 Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): When he gets home for the night, Buck turns to the one source of information that’s never let him down: the internet. But where does one go for relationship advice from complete strangers online? Which is how, ten minutes later, he finds himself on Reddit with a shiny new account and username. It takes him a while after that to craft his question for r/Relationships, but he thinks he’s got it pretty accurately conveyed before he hits post.

🔥 You Could Be The One I Keep by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 6K | Teen): Eddie finally get's up the nerve to ask Buck out, his best friend accepting much easier than Eddie ever dreamed. Things are better than ever between them, the two of them becoming even closer, going out on several dates—only problem? Buck has no idea they're dating, like not even the slightest clue.

#buddie #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfiction #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #epic buddie fic rec #911 fanfic #911 fanfiction #911 fic

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squirrelxoxo · 3 months ago

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IT'S AUTUMN!!! 🎉🎉🎉

In honour of the changing of the season I thought I'd give each of the marauders era characters a favourite season.

Remus:

Autumn. He'd love being able to wear his jumpers (not that you can't wear jumpers all year round in the north of Scotland) and the cozy vibe around autumn. He'd also secretly love all the werewolf jokes his friends make around Halloween.

Sirius:

Winter. The cold would make him feel alive. He would hate Summer because he'd have to spend it with his parents and he'd look forward to September when school starts but after he moved in with the Potters it became his favourite because he could spend all day with his best friend.

James:

Summer. It's sunny and warm like him. He'd definitely be missing his parents while at school so he'd love getting to see them. He'd also love Christmas so Winter too.

Peter:

Not a season exactly but October to January. You've got Halloween, Christmas and New year's and he would love the buzz going on around that time and the high spirits.

Lily:

Spring. She'd like the temperate weather and the flowers and baby animals. She'd also be looking forward to exams that she'd been studying for all year.

Marlene:

Summer. She'd hate school (just the lessons part not Hogwarts) and she'd love not having to do anything during the holidays. Would definitely come back to school with the most crazy stories.

Mary:

Summer. She lives for the sun. She'd also love Spring purely because it made Lily happy. She would definitely also appreciate the pretty clothes you can wear in Spring and Summer.

Dorcas:

Winter. It's cold and dark and she loves that. Would definitely stay at Hogwarts with Barty, Evan and Regulus who were trying to escape their parents and they would all just enjoy the peace and quiet together. Something about an empty castle would allure her.

Pandora:

Spring. Prime time for lying in the grass looking at clouds. Would make a daisy crown for all her friends, Barty would wear his constantly till it dies because it makes her happy and his Dad would die if he knew his kid was walking around with flowers in his hair.

Barty:

Autumn. The guy would be obsessed with Halloween. Evan and Regulus would come in on the first of October to see pumpkins everywhere, enchanted bats flying around and Halloween music playing quietly constantly (as much as Regulus and Evan tried they could never find where it's coming from). He'd also low-key love stepping on crunchy leaves.

Evan:

Autumn. Purely because Barty gets so excited about it. Otherwise he doesn't give a shit about what season it is so long as he doesn't have to go home. He'd also appreciate Pandora's daisy crowns in Spring and would have it on his bedside table.

Regulus:

Winter. Same reasons as Dorcas, it's cold, dark and the castle is empty. He'd also like stargazing in Winter more than the other seasons because he can see his star. He'd like Winter significantly less though when Sirius moved in with James and he'd start spending Christmas at the Potters' instead of staying at the castle.

#marauders era #dead gay wizards #dead gay wizards from the 70s #james potter #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #regulus black #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #pandora rosier #mary macdonald #dorcas meadowes #autumn

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fafnir19 · 1 year ago

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Naughty or nice

Kathy and Ben lived in the same apartment building. They often bumped into each other in the lobby or elevator, exchanging casual small talks. Kathy, with her charming smile and endearing laughter, always managed to brighten Ben's day, but he was never quite sure how to respond to her presence. Since Kathy had broken up with her boyfriend, she had been turning to Ben for help quite often, seeking his company and assistance even for the smallest matters. Ben had treated Kathy had never sat well with Ben. So, when Kathy constantly asked for his help, Ben couldn't help but feel a growing annoyance. Perhaps she had been never been a fan of Kathy's ex-boyfriend. He considered him to be an arrogant snob, and the way he treating her ex-boyfriend like a servant because she came from a wealthy family, Ben assumed with a tinge of bitterness. "Hey, Kathy, I can't keep doing this," Ben said one day, his frustration bubbling over. "I'm not your personal assistant, you know. And just because your parents have money, doesn't mean you can make others do whatever you want."

It was St. Nicholas Day, and Kathy pleaded with Ben for help again. "Please, Ben, it's important! I promise I won't ask for anything again," she implored. "You always say that," Ben shouted, his patience wearing thin. "I'm not your servant, Kathy!" Storming out of the apartment building in a huff, Ben collided with St. Nicholas and his helper, Knecht Ruprecht, who were spreading joy and cheer in the neighborhood.

"You've been good this year, young man?" St. Nicholas asked with a twinkle in his eye. "Save that question for the kids," Ben replied, irked by the joviality around him. Without warning, Knecht Ruprecht swiftly stuffed Ben into his sack, ignoring Ben's shouts and struggles. Before Ben could even comprehend what was happening, he found himself in the workshop of St. Nicholas with no way of escape. St. Nicholas's voice filled the workshop as he explained Ben's predicament. "You have refused to help Kathy too many times, young man. As a consequence, you will now work in my workshop until you understand the true spirit of Christmas."

In the following weeks leading up to Christmas, Ben toiled alongside the cheerful Christmas elves in the workshop. The air was thick with the scent of fresh pine and the sound of little hammers and chisels transforming old, forgotten toys into new ones with magical craftsmanship. However, instead of feeling the joy of the season, Ben's heart grew colder as he was forced to immerse himself in the work. Furthermore, the elves had also forced Ben to wear a green tuxedo, a symbol of his servanthood that he couldn't shed. As Christmas drew nearer, St. Nicholas took Ben aside and revealed to him the truth about Kathy. "She is lonely, and she has turned to you because she cares for you. Her constant requests for help were her way of trying to connect with you." Before Ben could process this revelation, the Christmas elves lined up, thanking Ben for his hard work. "Only one thing remains to be done," they declared. Ben was puzzled, for all the old toys had been transformed into new ones. The elves surrounded him, molding him as if he were clay, their nimble fingers shaping his features with delicate precision. As if guided by magic, his once unremarkable visage transformed into that of a dashing, handsome young man with captivating charm. A radiant smile graced his chiseled features; his eyes sparkled with newfound allure, and he stood in stunned silence as he admired his own reflection.

On Christmas Eve, St. Nicholas took Ben on his sleigh to deliver gifts.

But instead of taking him to his own home, St. Nicholas placed him under Kathy's Christmas tree. "Wait, I can't be here!" Ben's panic rose in his throat, but he couldn't move a muscle. St. Nicholas's words echoed in his mind: "You are nothing more than a gift now, a toy for the big girls.". He was a gift now, and a gift couldn't simply walk away from the Christmas tree.

Kathy's gasp filled the room as she laid eyes on the extraordinary Christmas surprise. "Oh, my goodness! This is amazing!" She lifted Ben, who could only watch in shock as she reveled in her new companion, oblivious to the turmoil within him. As their days together unfolded, Kathy found herself ecstatic with the new Ben, soon realizing that he was not only the perfect boyfriend on the outside but was also unexpectedly better in every way, especially in bed. Despite his protests and struggles, he was perceived by everyone as an ideal boyfriend, a mirror image of Kathy's previous beau.

However, Kathy was enamored with her new companion, and Ben couldn't help but notice her joyful laughter and contented smiles. And in the privacy of their moments together, Ben noticed another change – she moaned with delight and found solace in his embrace, making him question the depth of his own feelings.

#male tf #male transformation #servanthood #servant #st. nicholas #christmas elves

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adore-laur · 1 year ago

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AULD LANG SYNE

— gold rush christmas flashbacks (read parts 1-4 first)⏳

❅ ❅ ❅

How's one to know if love is everlasting?

Harry used to prioritize the notion with you, sealing the promise with a glistening diamond ring on your finger, because that's what love is, right? Marrying the one person you can't live without. He vowed to be eternally yours, making up for lost time with secret oaths of pleasure and intimate words that unfurled from his tongue like the petals of a rose.

Each garland of his ivy intertwined perfectly with yours, the spark of young love nurturing every vine that started to wilt from the first dusting of snowfall.

Yet that light soon eclipsed with a shadow of neglect.

The last glimpse of radiance Harry witnessed was one he took for granted. You were right there, shining just for him, but the moment burned out right beneath his fingertips.

He remembers getting lost in the cadence of your voice and the familiarity of your presence. Blue lights had danced over your figure as you stood on your tiptoes and turned the house into a winter wonderland, a certain glow to your skin that only he knew the cause of.

❅ Time Gone By ❅

Harry stopped you from gracing around the room like an angel on ice skates by trapping you in a one-armed hug from behind, a champagne flute of vintage Dom Pérignon in his hand. Your delicate fingers reached up to hook a shiny ornament on one of the tree's upper branches, right where they started to narrow. It made him realize it had been far too long since he'd been home as he took in the evergreen standing tall and proud before him.

Cheek to cheek, Harry swayed your frame to the faint Christmas music playing in the background. He watched your every move, from how you resettled the ornament an inch over because you were a perfectionist to how you leaned back into his chest to get a better look at your work. He wanted to put you in his pocket like a plucked primrose and take you everywhere with him.

"How many more..." Your voice faded as your spirited eyes scanned the living room. You released yourself from his hold when you spotted the box of ornaments, much to his reluctance.

Harry sauntered over to the fireplace while taking a sip of his drink. After setting his glass down, he grabbed the fire poker and opened the chain mail curtain to shift the logs around. The flames instantly grew stronger, crackling louder as orange embers tried and failed to escape. They seemed to know there could only be one clinquant brilliance in the room.

Magnetizing admiration guided his gaze to you once again as he sat down and folded his legs on the carpet. Once he was comfortable, he grabbed the half-empty bottle of champagne on the hearth and poured more of the effervescent liquid into his glass. The roaring fire heated his back as he coated his tongue with refined notes of ripe fruit and vanilla. Moonlight gleamed through the window and reflected off the many decorations he had helped place in every crevice of the house. The sweet smell of sugar cookies straight out of the oven made his stomach rumble with delight.

Then there was you, the only thing he could truly focus on for longer than a minute.

With your hair pinned back with silver snowflake clips, it was like he was seeing you for the first time. A halting feeling of falling in love all over again nestled into his heart, and you didn't even have to say a single word.

"Why are you staring at me?"

Harry almost laughed at your question. How could he not stare at you? You were made for him.

Smirking over the rim of his glass, he said, "I have a complaint," then took a quick sip and stood up.

You turned back to the tree, pensively looking it up and down. "Do you not approve of my decorating?"

"You're doing a wonderful job, baby." He emptied his hand and beckoned you toward him. "Come here. Take a break for a little bit."

You shyly shrugged your shoulder up to your cheek, his favorite habit of yours, and made your way to him. You wrapped both arms around his waist, then rested your chin on his chest with raised eyebrows in silent questioning.

"My complaint," he said lowly while smoothing his thumb over your temple that had somehow collected glitter, "is that I can't see the bump when you wear sweaters."

The tightening of your hold warmed him through, along with the knitted material loosely draped over your upper half. "It's too cold to wear anything else," you replied, smiling knowingly.

Reaching around your waist, Harry bunched the material of your sweater behind your back and tugged on it until it tightened around the small, growing curve of your stomach. "There," he whispered satisfactorily, grinning and glancing up at you with a boyish glint in his eyes.

You just scoffed amusedly and swatted his hands away before unraveling yourself from him to continue hanging the last of the ornaments. Two glass spheres dusted with lines of gold glitter were still waiting to be put on the tree with your strategic placement. Blue twinkling lights still needed to be strung and weaved around the protruding branches. The tinsel garland, adorned with sparkling leaves and flowers, still needed to be embellished on the staircase's banister. Harry, however, thought all those things could wait. He wanted his wife's undivided attention.

One of the cardboard boxes contained mistletoe, so he searched through them while he hummed along to Eartha Kitt's rich, sensual voice. After noisily sifting through miscellaneous Christmas items, he finally found the artificial red berry attached to an even more artificial plant. While your back was turned, he plucked it out and quietly walked toward you, turning up the volume of "Santa Baby" with the remote on his way over.

"Hey," he said, tickling the nape of your neck with the mistletoe.

You squealed and damn near elbowed him in the stomach. "Stop! You're supposed to be helping me."

"We have all night to do this."

"There's only a few more hours until Christmas. We should have done this weeks ago."

Harry's warm hands traveled under your sweater and splayed over your first-trimester bump. It wasn't fully rounded out, yet it was still a bump, and he loved it dearly, even if a baby hadn't been meant to happen so soon. "We've been worried about other things, yeah?" he murmured secretively, even though no one was around to eavesdrop.

"Yeah," you replied breathily.

"But just think... this time next year, we'll be spending Christmas together as a family of three."

"When are we going to tell people? I won't be able to hide it for much longer."

The anxiousness on your face worried him. He knew that sooner or later, the ravenous public would find out. It was only a matter of time before the vultures came circling, and his pledge of protection would again be at risk.

"Let's talk about it later," he dismissed, rubbing a circle around your belly before retreating his tender touch and spinning you around. Once you were facing him, he asked, "Can I have a kiss?"

"You're trying to distract me."

"Just one kiss. Pretty please."

You trailed your fingers down his arm. "Begging gets you nowhere."

He mockingly grumbled an echo of what you said and bent down slightly to wrap a strong arm around your waist, effortlessly lifting you as you scrambled to hook your pajama-clad legs around him.

"I want to dance with you," he said, staring at your glowing cheeks. “I beg of you."

"Put me down, then."

"What kind of dance do you fancy? Polka? Waltz? Ballroom tango?"

You laughed as Harry set you back on the floor. "Remember when you danced the polka with my grandma at our wedding?"

"I couldn't keep up with her!" he replied humorously, loving how your eyes reacted by sparkling. "Had me tripping over my feet and everything."

There was a beautiful mixture of yours and his laugh at the memory, and amid the mirth, Harry grabbed your right hand with his and held it against his chest while his other rested on the small of your back. It became a gentle sway to "Silver and Gold" with the occasional twirl and romantic dip, the two of you spinning around in a personal snow globe. He touched his forehead to yours, lazily smiling down at your lips, then nudged your nose with his before tilting his head to kiss you nice and slow. Lips that tasted like sugar melted into his, soft and addictive. His senses were heightened by the champagne he drank. His feet stopped moving as he got lost in the moment, entirely focused on how your kisses couldn't seem to catch up with his. The breathless sounds you released and the wet pops of your lips separating made him fall under your enchanting spell.

"Your phone," you mumbled through lazy kisses.

"Hmm?" Harry hummed distractedly, kissing you again before opening his eyes and licking his swollen lips.

"I think your phone is ringing," you said more clearly, pulling away.

He processed the default ringtone and sincerely hoped it was just his mother wishing him a Merry Christmas from across the pond. Sighing, he unlaced your fingers with his and gave the back of your hand a semi-comforting pat before walking over to his vibrating phone on the hearth. He had seen the disappointed look on your face—it pained him every time. Deep down, he knew who might really be calling him.

The assumption proved to be correct when he checked the screen. The familiar number was work-related. He answered the call with a guilty scratch behind his head and left you in the living room.

How easy it could have been to just ignore it, but second nature had a poisonous grasp around his heart.

❅ ❅ ❅

How's one to know when the first crack in the glass will shatter into a million fragments of love astray?

A capricious shift in your husband's demeanor created the first sign of rupture. Pixelated countenances of despondency and physical guises of weariness were little fissures that shaped a shard so minimal that you could have brushed it aside if not for the inescapable ache in your chest that mercilessly came around at nightfall like clockwork.

The withering love between you and him was a ticking time bomb made of glass left to be disarmed by whoever was audacious enough to get their hands near the lethal sparks.

Yet the fuse burned out quicker than expected.

That fateful detonation happened at midnight in the winter. Harry was the culprit, and he never realized it until his unspoken fear blew up in his face.

You remember it all too well. The stillness was so deafening in your empty home, barren winter seeping through the walls and icing over a bed of primroses to paralyze them from growing further.

❅ Time Gone By ❅

A pathetic excuse of a Christmas tree in the corner was the only provider of light in the otherwise caliginous bedroom. Sitting in the opposite corner, you tucked your knees to your chest and let your husband's slurred greeting on the phone fill the lonesome silence. It was better than nothing, you supposed.

The first question you asked him was a straight nosedive toward the forthcoming bone crush. "Have you been drinking?"

Harry sniffed and replied, "Whiskey, yeah."

You shook off his lethargic tone and plastered on a smile. "Must be nice."

"Pour yourself a glass," he said, his voice sounding far away. You assumed you were on speakerphone. "It's the holidays, innit?"

"Can't. I need to pump later."

"Oh. That's right." A strange lull of silence passed. "How is she, by the way?"

Brass-knuckled fists squeezed your heart when you told him, "She misses you a lot."

It was an unequivocal lie. You weren't sure if she would even remember him when he eventually came home. In the year since her impromptu arrival, her own dad had been across the world more than he'd been at the house in Nashville.

"I'll be home at the end of January," Harry assured you. I just have a few more promo appearances that I need to make."

He didn't need to, did he? With a snap of his fingers and his gift of persuasion, it shouldn't have been that hard to fly back to his family when needed. You wondered if he heard himself, ignorant of the fact that his selfish words pierced you as a mother doing everything on her own. Surely, he felt guilty, but he was an expert at shrouding the parasite.

"Why can't you cancel everything and stay with us for the holidays?" you asked, letting out a muted laugh.

Through a phone call with no way to see your face, Harry didn't quite catch your attempt at being humorous. "You know the answer to that," he answered accusatorially.

"No, I really don't." The mercurial shift in moods with him was something you'd gotten used to. "Tomorrow is Christmas, and you're in Los Angeles. Not with your family. It doesn't make sense to me."

"Are we arguing right now?" he asked through a yawn. "I'm too tired to argue, love."

Patience wearing thin, you took a brutal dig at his buried flaws. "No, you're too drunk to understand how miserable this has been for me. God forbid that I want you home with our baby."

Harry scoffed and then dared to bitterly laugh. "Don't give me that petty shit, all right? You know my job, and you know my schedule. It's never changed."

"It should change now that you're a dad, don't you think?"

"Why do we always end up fighting when I call you? I've got better things I could be doing."

Cruel. Harry could be so casually cruel when drinking. On the last phone call, his tongue, as dangerous as a deadly weapon, had been laced with Hennessy and Coke.

"Our daughter's first Christmas, and you aren't here," you thought aloud while shaking your head slowly. The worst type of tears, ones stemming from frustration, prickled behind your eyes.

"You're being mean," Harry said quietly, every outside noise from his end being cut off except for his breathy voice, sounding like a gust of wind had taken it and carried it to you. His phone was now held up to his ear.

You stood your ground. "I think I'm being fair. I'm not asking much from you."

"Fuck's sake," he muttered before clearing his throat. "I can't do two things at once."

His words were a poison-soaked dagger to your flesh, cutting right to the bone and unleashing the blood of vulnerability and hurt from the man who had once vowed to never cause you such harm.

Being a husband and a dad—Harry, of all people, should have been able to balance those two responsibilities with no problem. Where was his sudden spitefulness coming from?

You let out a morose noise of disbelief and confessed, "I hate you sometimes."

Harry sighed. "I love you," he said with that goddamned soft voice of his, a blatant attempt to veer away from the issue at hand.

Your emotions finally broke through, the lump in your throat growing until it started to ache. Looking down at the silver wedding ring on your finger, you wondered if he put it there just to lock you in. Little did he know that you were about to go down an agonizing route to get the key.

"Right now," you said shakily, "it feels like you don't give a fuck about me or our daughter."

He groaned, and you could picture him running a heavy palm down his flushed face. "We were having an innocent conversation, honey. Why do you always get pissed at me?"

It was a blazing assumption in the dark, considering he was the one who started it. He had lit the fuse with a single spark, and now time was ticking.

Who would pass the bomb over to whom?

Whose tears would douse the flare?

Which one of you was capable, and which was a coward?

"I get pissed because I wonder why I ever married you," you admitted, trying not to choke on affliction. "I wonder why I ever had a child with you. Why do I stay with you when you treat our family like an afterthought?"

"You're making me out to be a monster," Harry said with a twinge of helplessness. "I love you, okay? I would die for you both."

"You barely see us, so I doubt that."

"Christ, why do you say things like that?"

Running your fingertips across the carpet to seek comfort, you replied, "It's how I feel, Harry. It's how I've felt for the past year."

"Then fuckin' leave since I make you so miserable!".

Tick.

The fragile bomb was in your hands.

Tick.

There were only seconds left to make a decision.

Tick.

You passed it over to him with a detonating question.

"Do you give me permission?"

A deathly silence.

"I'll leave," you continued, your ears ringing. "You don't seem to mind. I'll talk with a lawyer, and we can settle a divorce."

Boom.

Harry inhaled sharply through his nose. "Don't even think about doing that."

"You just told me to leave!" you shouted.

"No, hey." His breathing was becoming shallow, and his voice was desperate. "Hey, listen to me. I'll come home. Just give me another month, and I'll be there. I won't leave again. I promise you that."

This was different from what you had wanted. Married life with him was supposed to have been blissful. Parenthood was supposed to have been alongside him. The room spun around you as the clock ticked with each passing second. It wouldn't change anything. You might as well set it in stone and float it down the river.

"I don't believe you. I want a divorce."

"Baby, please. Look, can you video call me? Let me see you."

You screwed your face up and rested your pounding head against the wall. "I can't look at you right now."

"I'd like you to look at me when you say you want a divorce, yeah?" He was on fire from the explosion. "God, I'll get on a plane right now, okay? Please."

He was only willing to do what you asked when he needed to save himself. It was never for you.

"My decision is final," you told him. "I can't be in this one-sided relationship. All I need is for you to be a dad and a husband. Here, with us. Not thousands of miles away."

"I'll come home. Let me... shit, let me find my laptop, and I'll book a flight."

"Well, when you come home, your things will be packed by the front door."

"Stop," he whispered painfully.

"Just listen to me, Harry!" you yelled, finally losing your patience. Taking a deep breath, you lowered your voice and continued, "If you love me, you'll let me leave. It's what's best for us."

"You're my wife." Then, show some compassion. "Do you hear me?" Barely. "You can't just leave like this." Yes, you could. "I'll lose my mind."

Your mind was made up.

"I'm going to hang up, okay?"

"No, we're going to talk—"

"When I hang up, I need you to breathe," you interrupted gently. "I need you to stay where you are. I need you to not do anything stupid."

"You're drunk too, right?" Harry said. "We're both drunk, and we'll forget we had this conversation." You heard a mattress creak and then a slight stumbling of feet. "Let's go to bed, sweetheart. Tomorrow is Christmas. I'll call first thing in the morning."

"Okay. Bye, Harry." You knew you wouldn't answer.

"Did you get my gifts in the mail? I spoiled you two so much." You didn't like how his breathing had gotten faster. "Hey, can you give her a kiss goodnight for me? Please?"

"I will." It was the least you could do. "Goodbye, Harry."

"No, baby, stay on the phone. I love you."

You swallowed down the last shred of your dignity and pulled the phone away from your ear, telling him to breathe one last time before ending the call.

All at once, the four walls of your bedroom caved in on you, and the feeling of suffocation began. The ground ate you alive as you sunk down into a fetal position and cried out into the wool carpet until it burned your cheeks. You could blame the drink in Harry's hand all you wanted, but you knew his integrity had fallen short lately. He couldn't be what you needed, so why stay and suffer in a situation so futile?

A sharp wail suddenly pierced through the wall behind you. Moving your teary eyes to blearily gaze at the clock, you saw the big and little hands join at the Roman numeral twelve.

How terribly blue of a Christmas, yet the reasoning had been long overdue.

❅ ❅ ❅

How's one to know if the bone crush is worth it?

As Harry looks at you now, a newfound love coursing through his veins, he knows that it is. The fireplace warms you and your daughter, both wrapped in a blanket. You're letting her help you open your last present.

It's crystal clear that the scene in front of him is entirely what he fought for. A family to protect. The home he sits in. The love he spent so long missing.

He walked through hellfire summers to revive your love for him and trudged through icebound winters to ensure you never forgot about him. All to get to that spring garden of everlasting primroses, which never entirely died.

"What did your mom get?" Harry asks his daughter while powering his phone off.

She holds up a tiny jewelry box and looks back and forth between her parents. You take it from her and inspect it, then look up at Harry and give him an unreadable glance.

"Open it," he insists softly.

You slowly lift the top, revealing a gold ring that weaves into a flower-shaped diamond. A gasp gets caught in your throat as you take it out. "Harry..." you trail off.

This time, you say his name differently than when you found his wedding ring in his dressing room months ago. This time, you say it with a particular fondness that puts him together again.

"I thought maybe we could try gold this time," Harry explains, kissing your cheek. "See if that works."

He thinks of the silver ring you had put back on your finger after you both decided to try again. It reminded him of hurt more than he'd like it to, so he bought a ring with a different, more sentimental purpose.

"I think it'll work," you say with a genuine smile.

A Christmas long past left scars still unhealed, but each wound led him right where he belonged.

❅ ❅ ❅

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles #adore-laur #auld lang syne #gold rush series

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thepaperpanda · 2 years ago

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The Christmas market || Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: As a result of many pleas from you, Ivar agrees to go to a Christmas market with you in order to find the perfect gifts for his family.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1609

Authors: Rouge & Cass

A/N: today’s prompt: a visit to a Christmas market

Despite Ivar's whining and nagging, you dragged him through the crowd.

Although he disliked crowds, especially at the christmas market, you both made it a goal to find something pretty for the party since his mother invited you over for dinner. "Y/N! We have been here for an hour already. We visited every stall, but nothing seemed good enough for you. Can we go home now?" Ivar grunted impatiently.

"Of course we can't yet," you said, squeezing his palm in your hand. "I told you I wouldn't go to your parents' house without a few gifts for them, didn't I? Is it so difficult for you to be as happy and excited about it as I am?"

He rolled his eyes, commenting, "Why waste money on gifts that will sit around, collecting dust? Why don't you bake cookies, pack them nicely, and give those as gifts to them?"

"Don't worry, I'll do that as well, my grandmother gave me an amazing old recipe for gingerbreads, I'll decorate them with two types of frosting," you said to Ivar after stopping at another stall. You discovered a lovely wooden box with floral ornaments there. "Hey, check it out. What do you think, love? Could it be a nice jewelry box for your mother?"

"I bet she didn't fill the one father gave her years ago," Ivar shrugged, looking at other stuff in the stall.

As you adjusted your woolen hat on your head, a deep sigh escaped your lips. "Helpful as always, aren't you, babe?" You chose a lovely wooden lighter for Ivar's father because you knew Ragnar was a smoker.

"It's really overpriced. Do you really expect me to be happy when we throw away money?" Ivar sighed, shaking his head.

"Ivar," you said, "it doesn't matter how much those things cost. What truly matters is the need in my heart to gift people the Christmas spirit and happiness, even if it's with small things."

"I don't think your wallet feels the Christmas spirit," Ivar commented. "Christmas is about family, not gifts, isn't it?"

Ivar was getting on your nerves again that day, so you only grunted. First, he objected to leaving your shared flat because it was snowing and he had a FIFA session to finish with his mates. Later, after he agreed to accompany you on your shopping trip, he mentioned being bored and hungry.

It wasn't that Ivar hated Christmas; instead, he didn't understand the point of spending all that money on trinkets that would only be used once.

"What do you suggest then?" You asked, resting your hands on your hips.

"I think a gift made by hand means more," Ivar told you. "But if you really need something for my mom, get her jewelry."

You were playing with the wooden box you held in your hands while thinking about Ivar's words. You returned the box to the seller with a nod, saying that all you wanted was the hand-carved lighter. "In this case, we'll need to go to another store, babe."

Ivar nodded his head after letting out a deep sigh. "If you promise me a hot chocolate, I am willing to go."

"We need to stop by Starbucks then," you tapped his nose, a sly grin spreading across your lips as you did.

"Okay, cool, but lead the way before I change my mind and head home," Ivar joked.

You reached for his palm and intertwined your fingers with his, delighted to discover that even though he was wearing his favorite black gloves, his hands were so warm.

A gentle kiss was placed on your fingers as he lifted your hand and brought it to his lips. "Your hand is so cold that my tongue would get stuck if I licked it," Ivar stated out of the blue.

You blinked as you listened to his words and grimaced to show him how embarrassed you were by his statement. "You're impossible, Ivar."

"C'mon, I know you love it when I tease you like this," Ivar teased, kissing your cheek.

You went straight to Starbucks, as you promised, and ordered hot chocolate for Ivar and a spicy pumpkin latte for yourself.

As long as Ivar had his favorite drink in hand, he was more likely to follow you without whining.

You asked him to accompany you to a jewelry store, where you chose a pair of silver earrings with a reindeer theme.

In this case, Ivar was much more eager to assist you in picking up a gift for Aslaug. It was picking gifts for his brothers that worried him most; according to him, none of them deserved anything.

"So, do you have any ideas for gifts for your brothers?" You inquired as the two of you strolled down the Strøget.

"Hard to say. None of them deserve gifts," Ivar muttered while looking around. “How about socks?”

"Socks? Are you serious, sweetheart? This is the most ridiculous gift idea," you lightly tapped his shoulder.

"Oh don't be silly, love. It's a perfect gift for those assholes," Ivar said, rolling his eyes. "Let me see! Hvitserk can get weed or brownies... Or both, actually. He has a sweet tooth, as we all know. Ubbe can get a pen. Sigurd might benefit from a lame book about music history. Bjørn? We can get him a year's supply of condoms."

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a laugh and stopped walking, considering everything he said. "Ivar! You're so cruel! It's a good idea to get Ubbe a nice pen. A book about music for Sigurd is not a bad idea either. I'm only concerned about condoms for Bjørn and weed for Hvitserk. Oh, and I still need to find the perfect gift for my baby boy," you enhanced his hat to cover his ears.

Ivar smiled and moved closer before whispering into your ear, "You will shed those clothes, wrap yourself in a nice lacy set, and it will be the best gift I have ever received."

You closed your eyes and smirked, feeling your cheeks flushed. "Ivar, babe, if you behave like a good boy you are deep inside," you poked the left side of his chest, "I'll think about that," you kissed his lips briefly after climbing on your tiptoes.

"I deserve such a gift," Ivar chuckled, booping your nose. "I've been a good boy this year." A slight frown appeared on his face before he improved your thick scarf. "We should get this done as soon as possible. You are cold and I don't want you to get sick again."

"Come on, I'm not the one to get a cold after a cold like you," you pretended to be offended by his words.

"Keep thinking like that, little one, live your sweet, little dream," he patted your head. "Now. Let's go home, I'll take care of those gifts. Bjørn is still getting condoms though."

You helplessly rolled your eyes and shook your head after hearing his comment. "Ivar?" You looked up at him and intertwined your fingers with his.

Squeezing your hand while hiding it in his pocket, he only hummed, looking down at you.

"Can you visit one more place with me? I promise it'll be the last one."

He nodded but tapped his cheek, giving you a look.

After a brief eyeroll you climbed on your tiptoes again and kissed his cheek, inhaling the cologne he used which you gifted him with on his birthday.

A giggle escaped his lips and he nodded. "Let's go now. Lead the way."

You led Ivar to one more stall while holding his hand.

After following you, Ivar inspected the stall. "What is the purpose of our visit here?"

"You like wolves, right?"

"Yeah, I do," he replied simply.

"I saw them last week, when I came here to check out the Christmas market for the first time," you told him, taking a wooden bracelet in your hand. It had a charm shaped in a wolf howling to the moon, and the moon was cut in a half. "I thought we could get ourselves matching bracelets..."

A quick kiss was exchanged between Ivar and you as he grabbed your chin. "I think I have a really clever and cute girlfriend. I really like this idea."

He kissed you quickly, but it was sweet enough to melt your heart. You discovered the tiny metal clasp and opened it, asking Ivar to extend his hand to you. You put the bracelet on his wrist and locked the clasp as soon as he did. "There. Oh, it's perfect for you!"

He placed another bracelet around your wrist before moving your hand to his lips to kiss its top. "Let's do it this way: I can pay for yours and you can pay for mine, so we have perfect gifts for each other."

You nodded eagerly enough for your hat to fall off your head. "Oh, hell, silly me," you laughed.

A soft chuckle escaped Ivar's lips as he improved your hat and kissed your nose. "You may think you're too silly, but I love that about you."

You paid for his bracelet, and as he did the same, you snatched him under your arm and rolled down the Christmas market with him, inhaling the scent of gingerbreads spreading all over the place, hot tea with honey and ginger, and spicy coffee in various types. You glanced at Ivar's face briefly as the two of you walked together, trying not to draw his attention to this fact. Your heart overflowed with affection for this young man, who was perfect on the inside and out. You'd never been happier in your life.

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hendolish · 11 months ago

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hendolish Xmas plans? angst or fluff (it’s probably both with them). have they been texting on an Xmas theme? (feels like Jack would just to be annoying) are they doing presents? getting together for a night or a stolen weekend before the day? is Hendo rn missing snow and frost and Xmas lights as much as he’s missing Jack? or is one/both of them not really into the whole thing at all, thinking it’s overhyped?

jack grealish/jordan henderson | christmas ♡

As Christmas approaches, a bittersweet undercurrent flows through the exchanged texts between Jack and Jordan. The festive spirit that once enveloped them together is now a distant memory, replaced by the physical distance that separates them.

Jack, ever endearingly annoying, bombards Jordan with Christmas-themed messages. GIFs of dancing elves, Santa emojis, and constant reminders of the impending holiday fill Jordan's phone. It makes Jordan somehow fond and exasperated all at the same time, a playful attempt to bridge the miles between them.

"Missing my favourite elf this Christmas," one of Jack's messages reads, accompanied by a wink and a large array of festive emojis.

Jordan rolls his eyes when he sees the message flash up on his phone. Jack's teased him about his ears before, it’s nothing new, but he can't help but smile at the antics, replying with a simple, "You're a menace, you know that? No presents for you."

The conversation inevitably turns to Christmas plans. The realisation that they won't be waking up together on Christmas morning settles like a heavy snowfall in both their hearts, each message carrying the weight of longing

"I wish I could be there," Jordan types, his thumbs hovering over the screen as he contemplates the distance.

Jack's reply is swift, a mix of understanding and melancholy. "Me too, Hendo. It's not the same without you. Fuck boxing day matches."

Despite talking whenever and wherever they can, there's a palpable ache in their hearts, a yearning for the shared warmth of past holidays. Jordan finds himself missing more than just Jack; he longs for the frosty air, the twinkling Christmas lights, the familiar sights and sounds of Liverpool during the holiday season.

Jack, perhaps sensing the sombre mood, suggests, "Let's do presents. Ship something to each other. A piece of us for Christmas."

It's a small but meaningful gesture, a way to bridge the physical gap with tangible tokens of affection. The idea brings a spark of excitement, a reminder that, even in separation, they can be together.

As the packages make their way across continents, the anticipation builds. Gifts exchanged between two hearts a testament to a love that refuses to be diminished by distance.

Later on, in the midst of the Christmas chaos, Hendo takes a moment to video call Jack. The screen lights up with the familiar sight of Jack's grinning face, and for a moment, the distance evaporates. They share laughs, exchange updates, and revel in their closeness.

As they discuss their plans for the holiday, the conversation shifts to the prospect of reuniting—a stolen weekend, a brief escape from the obligations of work and life if they can somehow find the time.

"I can't wait to have you here," Jack admits, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions.

Jordan echoes the sentiment, and then grins widely because he can't pass up the opportunity to be ridiculously cheesy and watch Jack laugh as he tells him to fuck off, "You'll be my best Christmas gift."

The video call ends with a promise to make the most of the time they'll have together. As Jordan hangs up, a sense of warmth fills his chest. Christmas, with all its complexities, becomes a celebration of love, connection, and the unwavering bond between him and Jack.

♡

#they’re always angsty about not being together :’)#thank u for the prompt !!!#england #england national team #england nt #england football #football #football rpf #fics #hendolish #jack grealish #manchester city #grealo #grealish #jordan henderson #Henderson #man city #liverpool #al ettifaq

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kateandanthonyaremyparents · 2 years ago

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Finally wrote something again! Hope you'll like it! 😊

❄Snow Days❄

"Daddy!" Charlotte's cheerful voice filled the otherwise empty room. Anthony sighed loudly but the smile he put on his face wasn't a fake one. The happy face of his daughter lifted his spirits and he hugged her tightly when she crawled on his lap.

"What's up Lottie?" He asked while he kissed her chubby cheek. Her face had a nice, healthy color and next to the cold sensation he felt when he touched her, her fast panting told him she came straight from outside.

"You said you would come and play with us when Mary was awake," she turned to face him and pouted, "but you're still working and Neddy took her instead of you."

Another loud sigh filled with guilt escaped his mouth; he tried his best to get rid of all the work emails he still had to answer, but the constant interruptions from his kids prevented him from making any real progress. He didn't have the heart to tell her, his kids were so excited to be here, there was no way he would admit to them they were the reason he wasn't able to go outside.

"I know sweetie, but daddy isn't finished yet, I promise I'll be there as soon as I can." He saw the disappointment appear on her face and his heart dropped. Anthony hated to let his kids down, but what choice did he have? This family trip was such an impulsive decision he had to bring his work with him.

He had predicted this when Kate suggested going away for the holidays, only three days before Christmas. He knew he had tons of work to do, he knew they would all nag at him for bringing the office with him, he knew he would feel guilty all the time because he couldn't spend time with them. But he was also well aware once he saw the happy faces of his family there was no way he was going to say no.

Making his family happy was his ultimate goal in life. So when Edmund jumped up to gather his snowboard and his new shades, when Charlotte asked if she could finally get proper ski lessons, his youngest baby Mary smiled widely, and Miles wondered if this would be the year he would finally fall hard enough so he would get a cast, he nodded.

"I think we can ask Granny if we could borrow the house," he said, making eye contact with his wife, "but Hy was going to spend Christmas with us, so only if she's aboard with this too, we can go, since we made plans with her first."

Speaking of the devil, his youngest sister made an entrance; "Ah! You've finally asked Milo!" Hyacinth sat down next to Miles, who was still very much daydreaming about his latest obsession, "I'm free, if that's what you wanted to know. And I can't wait to go away."

"Why is that?" Kate asked curiously, "I thought you wanted to stay home because you couldn't be away from Tim?" She shoved some leftover dessert towards Hyacinth and waited for her to answer. "Isn't that why you bribed us with babysitting during new years? So you didn't have to go with your mum because you needed to be with the love of your life? "

Anthony hid a groan, he wasn't fond of Hyacinth's newest boyfriend, but he had to know. It it was his job to know what was going on in his sister's life so he forced himself to listen carefully.

"Tim? Who's Tim?" she rolled her eyes at Kate, "I just want to be with the family that appreciates me enough to open up their house for me."

"Is that so?" Anthony smirked, he watched how Hyacinth put some cake in her mouth. It felt like he could breathe again. It seemed like a new crisis was averted, no boy drama this Christmas. "So the offer to look after them still stands? Even if we are in Lech?"

"If you lend me your board, we're good to go."

That's how they ended up in their family house in the Alps. Somehow it was empty, a rarity because usually they all fought about who could have it during the holidays. But with Daphne and Francesca pregnant, Benedict very much into his new art project, Colin still on his honeymoon and Gregory and his mother visiting Eloise and Philip in Spain, it was available.

Christmas eve and Christmas day was all the time off Anthony had given himself, and the days went by so quickly, too quickly.

It was only two days ago, but it felt longer. Real life and the responsibilities it brought came back the moment Christmas was over. The fact that he was in the Alps didn't change the need for contracts to be signed, it didn't stop the cases he needed to prepare and there were always emails he needed to answer. It was an ongoing process, and as the boss he couldn't walk away from it.

"Why are you looking like that?" His lack of attention made Charlotte start to get a little angry, "I want to show you my new moves!" Charlotte spread her arms, "I did it just as you showed me the other day. You said you would be there to help me, but you aren't."

"Lottie, daddy has to work." It stung, deeper than ever before, "I said I had to, you know this." He tried to excuse himself, but he heard how poorly it sounded, "when I'm done you can show me."

"You're never done," Charlotte sighed grumpily, "mum said vacation was about having fun and laughing, why aren't you listening to mummy anymore?"

Why wasn't he?

He had so much fun, Anthony truly forgot about work on Christmas day. He embraced the time he got with his family tremendously. He could still vividly remember how they all went outside for a walk on Christmas eve. How beautiful Kate looked with her hair loose, her cheeks all flushed. He laughed softly when he remembered the snowball fight he and the boys had, how well they hit Hyacinth, and how good it was to do this all with carrying Mary on his hip. Her ski suit was still a few inches too big, but it only made her look cuter.

And to top it off, he could still see their faces when they opened their presents. The astonishing look on Charlotte's face when she realised Santa knew they were there instead of back home, in the UK, was priceless.

"Dad!" his youngest son came in as well and made him aware of his surroundings again, "mum asked me to get you, she said something about building a snowman?"

"Daddy!" Charlotte cheered happily, her hesitation forgotten and pure enthusiasm took over in a heartbeat. Anthony knew all his good efforts were in vain when Charlotte started to sing the familiar song of her favorite movie, "you have to go with us. Please!" Her big eyes stared at him expectantly while she jumped up and down on his lap.

"Mum told me this would work!" Miles looked very pleased with himself, "I already brought you your jacket and boots," he pointed at the desk behind him, "and I think I hurt my wrist a while back." All of the sudden his son seemed to be having trouble moving his arm, and his face flinched when he stopped pointing. "Maybe I should see a doctor?"

"Milo.." Anthony nodded his head, "you know there will be a moment when you're in actual pain and no one will believe you, right?"

"Why does he want a cast? I didn't like it." Charlotte stopped singing and frowned deeply. "It hurt and I couldn't shower without that stupid bag around my leg."

"I have no idea, ask him while I finish up here." Anthony kissed the tip of her head before he put her on the ground again, "give me five minutes."

"You're not lying?" Charlotte asked carefully, not fully trusting him yet.

"When do I ever?"

To his relief she shrugged, turned around and started asking Miles why he wanted to break a bone so badly.

"Honey?" This time it was Kate who made an entrance, "I know you're trying, but we're all waiting for you and I'm not exaggerating when I say patience runs low."

"I'm almost finished, I promise." Anthony mumbled, he didn't look up from his laptop because the minute he would even so much as look at his wife, it would be ten times harder to answer the stupid emails.

"Ant," Kate sighed, from the sound of it she seated herself in the chair at the other end of the table, "you know why I really wanted to go away this week?"

"No?" Anthony still hadn't looked up, but it was getting harder and harder to resist. The tone in his wife's voice told him she was serious, and he braced himself for what was to come.

"You work so hard, too hard if you ask me. I thought some change in scenery might cheer you up."

"Kate…" he cried out softly, "you know I want to.. I'm just.. there's just too much.. I can't.." Carefully he ripped his eyes away from his screen and into his wife's.

"Honey," Kate leaned over the table to grab his hand, "I'm not mad, the furthest from it actually. I'm so proud of you, we all are." Her long fingers started to caress his wrist. "I just need you to give us some time to show you."

"Now?" He heard how insecure he sounded, as if he was about to burst into tears, "I.."

"What is the worst that will happen if you abandon your work?" Kate asked when let go of his hand and stood up. For a second Anthony was afraid she would go again and it almost broke him, he couldn't handle being alone anymore. The lack of contact also forced him to take in her words.

What was the worst that could happen?

He truly didn't know, and that was good enough. There wasn't going to be a big disaster if he stopped working. There weren't any huge deadlines, nor any big cases set in the first week of the new year.

All he wanted right now was to be by her side, he needed to see his kids, spend time with them. To love them, wholeheartedly, and to actually celebrate this holiday together.

The worst thing that could happen was losing out on them, to remember this holiday as the one in which he was working all the time.

"Don't go Kate," he heard himself beg before he realised she wasn't walking away from him, but towards him, "I hear you." He said, his voice trembling in relief. When Kate wrapped her arms around him he felt tears falling on his cheek. "Thank you for always knowing what's best for me."

"I'm a very dutiful wife, after twelve years of marriage this cannot be a surprise to you," Kate smirked, her fingers ran through his hair and she pulled them softly when she bit his lower lip playfully.

"It isn't," Anthony moaned at the sensation, "I'm just very grateful."

"Perhaps you can show me just how grateful you are tonight?" Kate wiggled her hips and kissed him again, "I feel like we have some catching up to do."

"Why wait?" In one smooth motion Anthony lifted his wife into his arms, "I am nothing if not determined and devoted to you."

"But I wasn't lying when I said the kids are waiting for you to come." Kate giggled with her face in his neck, her attempts to stop him weren't very effective, especially when she started to suck on his favorite spot right below his ear.

"I want you to come first," Anthony whispered, "multiple times." He walked them to their bedroom, locked the door and squeezed her butt, "Hy can handle the kids, she owes us."

"That was new years," Kate said, but when Anthony dropped her on the bed she spread her legs instantly. "Make it quick."

Anthony rolled his eyes, "I won't make such a ridiculous promise," he unbuttoned her pants, "stop worrying, start enjoying babe this time off like I do," he said when he started to kiss her inner thigh, "and let me do what I do best."

#kathony #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #fanfic #anthony x kate #ao3 #eefie writes #snow days

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deafmangoes · 2 years ago

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An Album of Christmas Carols - 2

This older, black-and-white adaptation of A Christmas Carol has a very, very dear place in my heart. Let's get into it.

(The film, not my heart).

"Scrooge" (1951, Alistair Sim)

He has this expression for most of the film. In this 1951 adaptation, we get some real mileage out of exploring the dynamic between Scrooge and Marley, including the touching scene of Scrooge waiting until after business hours to visit his dying "friend", then complaining he can't hear him through the death-rattle. Also the undertaker is my spirit animal. I love him.

Ghosts? Ghosts!

This version of the story spends a little time with some original scenes establishing Scrooge as a miser. He eats thin soup in a dimly lit tavern and reconsiders ordering more bread when the innkeep informs him it's tuppence.

We get the usual appearances from Marley, via door knocker and servants' bells, before the man himself appears before Scrooge in the woobiest fashion I've ever seen. Some Marleys seem actively delighted to torment their former partner, this one really drums home the despair of eternal damnation, and oh boy can he scream. We also get a harrowing scene of shades throwing ghostly money at a starving, freezing mother and child, lamenting that they can no longer help - and should have done before.

Scrooge runs under the covers and - I guess - somehow still manages to fall asleep.

Christmas Past appears like a wise, ancient figure who has possibly escaped from a care home in their pyjamas. The filmmakers do a good job of making him look 'eerie' and do manage to keep a bit of that androgyny, Scrooge is shown his school, his sister, his apprenticeship, his failed engagement, and then - my favourite part of the film - the extended original scenes of Scrooge and Marley's partnership. We see them grow up as businessmen, then ruthless capitalists, and finally Marley dying and Scrooge barely giving a fuck.

Scrooge turns up to the home to visit the ailing Marley and meets an undertaker waiting.

Scrooge: "Who's that, the doctor?"

Housekeeper: "No sir, the undertaker..."

Scrooge: "Don't believe in letting the grass grow under your feet, do you?"

Undertaker: "Ours is a highly competitive profession, sir."

He's great, I love him.

Christmas Present goes right for the jugular and even gets some good ol' Christian message in about Scrooge not having properly sought the Jesus. We see the Cratchits' dinner, the nephew's party, a few blistering remarks from Christmas Present and the object lesson of Ignorance and Want (which incidentally always comes off very strange emerging from a grown man's fur-lined dressing gown). He disappears off-screen to an echoing "are there no prisons!?" and blam:

Christmas Yet To Come blasts into existence with a pale hand and a big black robe and Scrooge reluctantly follows to see the Cratchits mourning Tiny Tim, and the vultures selling Scrooge's belongings at Old Joe's - with bonus extra appearance from the undertaker!

Scrooge is shown his own tombstone, which elicits as 12-second long wail as he collapses on his face (great lung capacity for an old geezer) and he awakes in his bedroom. Giddy for joy, he scares the living daylights out of his housekeeper by flashing her.

(Okay, he actually does a handstand on a chair but his nightgown kinda slips and the housekeeper screams after throwing her apron into her face for modesty).

Highlights & Humbugs

I didn't say much about Bob and Nephew Fred because they're both a bit wet blankets in this film - the best bits are all the original additions, from the undertaker, to the extended role given to Marley's (later Scrooge's) housekeeper Mrs Dilber, as well as Alistair Sim's constantly shocked/confused/digusted/bug-eyed expression throughout most of the proceedings.

For an older film I still feel it's held up pretty well. Pacing is a lot slower than you'd find these days but it lets the humour (and drama) hit hard. A strong 9/10 Humbugs. One deducted for not enough undertaker.

"I always know."

#deafmangoes #scrooge #a christmas carol #christmas carol #scrooge (1951)#alistair sim #dickens december #ebenezer scrooge #jacob marley

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gacmediadaily · 1 year ago

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Tis the season for Christmas movies and holiday spirit, and Great American Family is celebrating with a Thanksgiving weekend full of romantic premieres. Nestled between My Christmas Hero with Candace Cameron Bure and A Christmas for the Ages with Natasha Bure and Cheryl Ladd (See 11 Photos of Cheryl Ladd Today That Prove The ‘Charlie’s Angel’ Star Doesn’t Age), Danica McKellar and Damon Runyan get into the holiday spirit with A Royal Date for Christmas.

Woman’s World sat down with McKellar in an intimate interview and in addition to previewing her onscreen romance with Runyan, she got personal about why she loves making feel-good movies like A Royal Date for Christmas, how she handles holiday stress and what helped her find herself after The Wonder Years. Plus, she reveals she’ll be live tweeting Saturday’s premiere and offers two stocking stuffer ideas!

Danica McKellar has herself a Royal Date for Christmas

Having starred in ten Christmas movies and countless rom-coms on the Hallmark Channel, Lifetime and now Great American Family, 48-year-old McKellar understands why so many of us need our fix of holiday romance — and family-friendly romance, in general.

“We live in a very challenging time,” McKellar tells Woman’s World in an interview on November 21st. “In some ways, the world seems to have lost its mind. It’s nice to help create this safe haven for people. I love these movies, and I love putting positivity into the world.”

The actress — who is also delighted to be an executive producer, involved in everything from scripts and props to editing and music — adds that films like A Royal Date for Christmas offer more than pure escapism.

“I believe we are modeling aspirational behavior,” McKellar maintains. “A lot of the stuff on television is pretty dark. These movies show struggles and dilemmas, and even frustrations, but everyone is trying to solve them in earnest. You don’t see people just trying to take advantage of each other. Nobody wishes evil or harm on anyone else. Everyone’s just trying to do their best. It’s so refreshing.”

What we can expect from A Royal Date for Christmas

In her newest holiday flick, McKellar plays Bella — a stylist who stumbles into a fairy tale romance without even realizing it. The holiday tale begins when Bella agrees to not only dress a handsome Brit who’s lost his luggage (Runyan), but also be his “official plus one” for the highbrow events he’s attending while in town. After Bella accepts with good humor, she’s stunned to realize her demanding new client “Stefan” is actually Stefan William Francis Brown, the Duke of Tangford!

Like Bella’s coworker, most viewers will immediately recognize the chemistry between these two strangers. Bella and Stefan, however, can’t see past their own histories and drama.

“This movie is about healing each other and how the holidays can bring up stuff that you can either ignore or you can look at and face,” McKellar teases. “I love seeing healing and redemption onscreen. It’s such a gift.”

“I felt like this movie would only work if we found a costar who is emotionally available,” says McKellar. “That’s not so common for the guys in these movies! But when we were talking about casting, I remembered working with Damon [in 2018’s Very, Very, Valentine, alongside General Hospital’s Cameron Mathison]. He was the guy I didn’t end up with and in the breakup scenes, he got emotional. So I said, ‘He’s tall, with this very royal look. And he’s the guy because he can go there, emotionally.’”

McKellar adds that once she and Runyan reunited for A Royal Date for Christmas, “it was easy to connect with him because of how big his heart is, and how he just wears it on his sleeve.”

McKellar’s secret to a merry blended Christmas

While the holidays are about cheer, we can all face challenges during this time — just like the characters in A Royal Date for Christmas. For McKellar, one of those challenges has been balancing her real-life blended family.

“My son’s father and I are divorced, I’m remarried, and we all celebrate Christmas together,” McKellar shares. “It’s going pretty well these days, but there were a few years where it was not. I had to kind of get over myself and say, ‘My ex’s wife is one more person to love Draco.’ If you keep your kids in mind, you can have a nice holiday. It’s a challenge… but it’s worth the effort to keep reminding yourself!”

During the hectic season, McKellar reveals her secret to maintaining her calm is her solitary, late-night gift-wrapping ritual.

“I don’t want to be around anyone else when I’m wrapping presents — and not just because what I’m wrapping might be for them,” she shares. “I line up my Great American Family Christmas movies and wrap my presents. It’s a meditative time for just me. It’s my quiet time.”

Danica McKellar reflects on graduating from The Wonder Years

For some fans, McKellar will always be tied to her The Wonder Years character Winnie, not to mention Fred Savage’s character Kevin — and the beautiful brunette admits that after the show wrapped in 1993, it wasn’t easy to find herself. At the time, she was a teen eyeing a degree in film. Instead, she graduated from UCLA summa cum laude with a Bachelor of Science in Mathematics, in 1998.

“I’ve always loved solving puzzles and anything that’s a good challenge,” McKellar reveals, and after one college-level math class, she was hooked. “It didn’t come easily but I loved it. And I found this new identity.

“As a child actor, when your show is over, you’re trying to figure out who you are and you think your value is attached to this thing that doesn’t exist anymore,” McKellar continues. “That’s hard for an adult, but for a teenager, it becomes, ‘Am I worth anything?’ Math was my answer to that. It made me feel strong, capable, and glamorous.”

Even as McKellar has continued to build her career in Hollywood, she’s also released 11 math books for kids of all ages – and today, that educational work feels even more important to her. “Because of the pandemic and a lockdown, kids have fallen behind,” she explains. “I like to be part of the movement to help them catch up and get back on track.”

While her books may be the perfect holiday gift for the little ones in your life, the Daily Dose of Dharma DVD that McKellar made with her mother could just work for the adults in your life. “They’re 20-minute yoga and meditation segments, and they’re just so healthy for you,” McKellar says. “They’re great stocking stuffers for women any age!”

#danica mckellar #a royal date for christmas #great american family #great american christmas

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flythesail · 2 years ago

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23 + your fave ship atm 🫶🏻

Thank you!! I went with nace for this one. And also included #74: "Can you help me put the star on top of the tree?" for @scarletslippers <3

Also on ao3

Around the Claw, everyone was in the holiday spirit.

Nick was singing along to a rendition of "Let It Snow" in the office, Bess was covered from head to toe in glitter from the snowflakes she was decorating, and even George's perpetual frown seemed to be gone as she strung garland across the bar.

Nancy didn't feel up to it, though. She wanted to go home and pretend it was any other time of the year. Maybe watch a movie set in summer, or close the blinds so she couldn't see the inflatable snow globe in her neighbor's front yard.

Unlike everyone else, she was in the back of the Claw, checking over the inventory for the rest of the year. The Claw was never busy in winter. Horseshoe Bay was a tourist town, so most of their business was around spring break and throughout summer. The Hilltoppers were out of town and off to somewhere warmer at the first sign of frost.

With a sigh, Nancy checked crabs off the list on her clipboard. It was cold in the freezer, and she had her coat on. But better to be cold from the freezer than from the snow falling outside.

The door to the freezer opened fully, and Nancy glanced that way to find Ace leaning against the doorframe.

"Hanging out with the clams?" he asked.

He wore a blue sweater with a menorah on the front of it. It looked cozy and she wondered if his mom knit it.

Nancy pushed the container of crabs back in place, moving on to the next. "They make good company," she said.

She didn't say anything else, and she thought Ace would leave when she didn't. Instead, he stood in the doorway, still watching her. George wouldn't be happy if she knew about all the cold air escaping, but she didn't say that either.

"You can count the fish if you want," she said finally.

The faster this was done, the faster she could go home.

Ace shook his head, tapping his hand against the door he still held open.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to help decorate the tree."

She stood, feeling an ache in her knees from kneeling on the hard floor for so long.

"You don't have to," he said. He shrugged to further emphasize that point. "But it might be better than hanging out in the freezer.

Nancy tucked her pen under the clip of her clipboard. "Yeah, I could help." The clams certainly weren't going anywhere.

She followed him down the steps of the freezer and out to the dining area.

"Oh." Nancy stopped when she saw the tree. "Wow."

There was a tall artificial tree in the back corner, wrapped in nautical rope, no less.

Ace stopped beside her. "I did the rope so I'll pretend that's a good wow."

A small smile flickered across Nancy's face.

She genuinely liked Ace. They weren't exactly best friends, but out of everyone at the Claw—she was closest with him. He knew about how she tanked her chance of getting into college senior year and covered for her whenever she was running late for her shift.

Maybe she had a soft spot for the guy who washed the dishes and wore his hat backward just because.

Maybe it was a little bit of a crush, but she wouldn't admit that.

"Alright," Ace said as if this was the most important task Nancy would ever do.

She looked at him. Maybe it was.

"Ready for ornaments?" he asked.

"Sure." She watched as he took a large box from a nearby table and set it in front of the tree. The side of it had the logo of the brand of oyster crackers they always bought. Over the top of it, someone had scrawled Christmas in black marker.

Nancy reached into the box, pulling out the first ornament. It was a crab with reindeer antlers. "Seems right, I guess." She hung it on one of the lower branches.

"Can't have the Claw without crabs."

Ace took the next ornament. It was a ceramic lighthouse, almost too heavy to be hung on the tree. It weighed the branch down, and Ace moved the ribbon attached to it further back on the branch.

They continued like that for a while. A life preserver, anchor, and sailboat among the dozen or so ornaments they stuck on the tree.

It was silent as they worked, but not in a bad way. Ace was easy to be around, and they worked well together. Her ornament would be missing a hook, and wordlessly, he'd find one loose at the bottom of the box.

She used to love decorating their tree at home.

This was Nancy's first Christmas without her mom though, and that was the reason for her newfound distaste for it. Christmas had been Kate's favorite, and Nancy didn't need Hallmark movies or snow globes to be reminded she was gone.

It was a fact she could never forget.

"LAAAAST CHRISTMAS, I GAVE YOU MY HEART," belted Bess, incredibly loudly and off-key. "BUT THE—"

Nancy was startled and turned to see Bess standing on a chair near the Claw's entrance.

"Bess!" George said from behind the bar. She was trying to get an extension cord to work.

A laugh escaped Nancy's lips, and the sound of it surprised her. But it felt good to laugh.

"What?" Bess said. "I love that song."

George shook her head, going back to fighting the cord.

Nancy turned to see Ace watching her, a smile on his own face.

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she busied herself with searching the oyster crackers box for more ornaments.

"Where's the star?" she asked, pushing aside the old newspaper the more fragile ornaments had been wrapped in.

"I think," said Ace seriously, "you mean the Christmas Seagull."

"The what–"

Nancy looked up.

What Ace held certainly fit the name. It was a seagull—made of plastic and likely having seen better days with the way the grey of its wings was faded in places.

The seagull got its Christmas name from its Santa hat, jacket, and black boots.

"Incredible, right?" said Ace. "This is what the holidays are all about."

"Does it…" Nancy fought a laugh. "Does it light up?"

"Sure does!" called George from behind the bar. She'd finally gotten the extension cord to work, and the garland was now lit with white lights. "That seagull has seen more Claw Christmases than me."

Nancy did laugh. "Alright then," she said, glancing back at Ace. "Want to help me put the seagull on top of the tree?"

He nodded. "I thought you'd never ask."

She brought a chair over to the tree and climbed on top of it. When she was ready, Ace handed her the seagull and she stuck it on the tallest point of the tree.

Ace held out his hand for her. Although it couldn't be more than a three-foot jump to the ground, she took it and stepped off the chair. For a moment, he didn't let go of her hand and Nancy didn't pull it away either.

But eventually he did let go, and Nancy found herself missing the way her hand fit in his.

"Oooh, is it time to light it?" Bess asked, joining them by the tree. "Nick!" she called.

"Yeah?" he asked from the office.

"It's time to light the tree!"

He left the office, and Bess ushered both him and George over.

The five of them stood in front of it for a moment. It wasn't a pretty sight and could probably earn the world record for most nautical-themed ornaments on a single tree, but the sight of it filled Nancy with a warmth she hadn't felt in a long time.

She had an inkling it had more to do with the five people surrounding her than the reindeer crab staring at her from a bottom branch.

Her friends, she realized.

"Who's going to plug it in?" Nick asked.

"I'll do it," said George. She left his side and stuck the plug into the outlet.

The tree lit up with white lights, and atop the tree, the Christmas Seagull glowed.

"Just stunning," said Bess, pretending to wipe a tear from her cheek.

"I don't know if that's the word I'd use," said George.

"It sure is… something," said Nick."

"I think it looks great," said Ace. "The seagull is really a nice touch."

They might have stood there for hours, admiring the tree. But the moment ended quicker than that.

"We have to go get my sisters from their friend's house," said George. "Can you guys lock up?"

"Yeah, sure," said Bess. "I think I'm going to stay a bit to finish the snowflakes anyway."

Nick and George said their goodbyes, and Bess went to do that.

That left just Nancy and Ace.

"Headed home?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said with a nod. Her dad was home and the thought of spending the night with him, maybe even taking their own decorations from the attic seemed nice. This Christmas wasn't easy. In some ways, it would be terrible. But she had good people to lean on.

"Me too."

They grabbed their things from their lockers and were still together as they reached the door at the front of the Claw.

"Are you guys leaving?" asked Bess. She was in the kitchen now, hanging snowflakes across the cutout in the wall that separated the kitchen from the dining area.

"Are you fine to be here by yourself?" asked Ace.

"Oh, definitely," said Bess. She took another piece of tape from the roll she held. "Just wanted to say you guys should look up."

Whatever Nancy might have said then caught in her throat, as her gaze traveled to the ceiling. There, hung a small branch of mistletoe.

Nancy's face warmed when she met Ace's eyes, but she played it off. "Very funny, Bess," she said. She took the sleeve of Ace's coat and pulled him out the door with her. "See you tomorrow!"

"If you say so, Nancy!" said Bess.

The door shut behind them, and they didn't move from the deck of the Claw.

The sky was dark. George and Nick's footprints in the parking lot were already covered by falling snow.

Snowflakes landed in Ace's hair. One stuck to Nancy's eyelash, and she blinked it away.

"So…" Ace said slowly.

"Yeah," Nancy said.

He smiled. "Going home now?"

She nodded and smiled slightly. "Yeah, you already asked that."

"Right."

Finally, they stepped down the stairs. Although the air was freezing, they took their time walking to their cars.

When Nancy was close to hers, she took Ace's coat sleeve again so he'd stop.

"Hey, Ace," she said, and he turned to face her.

He watched her curiously. The light from the front of the Claw was enough to illuminate this part of the parking lot.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

She said nothing, and he brushed her hand with his own. She held onto it. Neither of them had gloves, and both their hands were cold. She found herself at a loss for words, even if she knew what she wanted to say.

This close, the cold wasn't so bad.

His eyes flickered across her face, falling from her eyes to her mouth.

Before Nancy could lose her nerve, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"What was that for?" he asked when she stepped back.

"Helping me hang the seagull, obviously."

He smiled. "Have a good night, Nancy."

"You too."

As she got in her car, she knew she already had.

#nace #nancy drew cw #nancy drew #flythefic #this fic is 75% me missing the claw

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