#gently hold the gear like holiday ornament

[oopsarboreal]

uhhhmm i

[oopsarboreal]

Gears experiencing human tenderness???? Is this backed up by the scientific community

Some skedoodles

Song in the last one

[keewriting]

Cove x MC - One Shot #3 (request)

[Read on google docs to insert your MC's name]

SPOILER WARNING: Don't read if you haven't finished Step 3!

Your insides bubbled with excitement as the car neared the cabin nestled deeply in the forest. The fresh blanket of snow was nearly blinding in the bright morning sun. You looked over to your driver, Cove, who wore a focused scowl.

Cove: We made it. I can’t believe we made it.

Y/N: Isn’t it gorgeous? There is so much SNOW.

Cove smiled at you with apprehension. This trip was a special one for many reasons. You were both freshly 19, so it was your first holiday together as independent adults. On that note, it was also your first holiday away from your families. You felt more down about that than Cove did. His main gripe was the snow, and it was unmistakable in his expression. Cove parked the car in the designated snowless space. You both stepped out, Cove with a little less enthusiasm than you did.

Cove: Snow, snow, and more snow.

The cabin was glowing and decked out in beautiful Christmas decorations. An intermingling of garland and lights hung across the roof. More garland and Christmas baubles framed the frosted windows. Oversized candy canes lined the pathway up to the porch. The wreath on the front door was massive. It hung proudly with a cute snowman proclaiming “Let it Snow!”

Cove: The owners didn’t hold back out here. It’s impressive.

Mesmerized, you could only nod. The online advertisement described the cabin as a pre-decorated Christmas escape. The images you showed Cove online were spectacular, but they did not do justice to the real thing.

Not wanting to stand outside any longer, Cove moved to the trunk and began unloading the luggage. Cove first extracted a suitcase that he claimed was not filled entirely with gifts for you. Your gift for Cove lived safely in your own suitcase, already wrapped and ready to go. He then removed both of your clothing-packed suitcases. You were proud of your ability to convince Cove to bring winter-appropriate clothing to this trip.

You helped Cove drag the luggage to the front door. The host messaged you the entrance code before your arrival. You punched it into the keypad which stood in place of a normal keyhole. 1-2-2-5. Clever.

You paused for dramatic effect, then slowly opened the door to reveal the inside. It looked like a Christmas bomb went off, in the best way possible. You squealed and bounded inside first, leaving Cove to the luggage.

The cabin was small and cozy. The kitchen and living area were open to each other. There was no bedroom, only a pull-out couch that sat comfortably in front of a fireplace. The only other doors in the cabin were for the bathroom and a storage closet.

The Christmas tree drew in your eyes first. You stepped closer to inspect it and inhale the sweet evergreen scent. The tree skirt was wide and inviting to colorful wrapped boxes. Cranberry and popcorn strands wrapped the tree from bottom to top. An assortment of ornaments littered the branches. You peered into one of the big red baubles and smiled at your distorted reflection. Finally, you tilted your head upwards to take in the tree topper— a stunning golden star.

You spun around excitedly to appreciate the rest of the decorations. There wasn’t a corner or window without winter greenery. Festive cushions sat on either side of the couch. Stockings hung by the chimney with care. A miniature village of joyful folk lived on a console table by the entrance. You turned to face Cove, who had just finished lugging everything inside by himself. He shut the door and smiled at you, happy that you were already having a magical time.

Y/N: I’m sorry, Cove. I got a little carried away with—

You halted your own sentence. Your gaze drew upward to the ceiling above Cove. A mistletoe hung delicately in the doorway. Cove followed your sight, twisting his head for a better view. You strode towards him before he could speak. You stared at him intently and wiggled one of your eyebrows. He met your gaze again, already blushing intensely.

Cove: It’s one of those...

His sentence trailed off as you stepped even closer and hushed him.

Y/N: Just kiss me, you big, beautiful dumbass.

Cove gulped hard. He gently took your face in his cold hands. You hoped the heat from your blushing face would warm them. He bent towards you as you stood on your toes to meet the kiss. Your lips danced together sweetly. You parted after a moment and stared into each other's eyes. Cove’s ocean blue eyes glistened and crinkled with the wide smile that spread across his face. You dove into a hug, wrapping your arms around his tall frame. He returned the hug enthusiastically.

Cove: Let’s get everything unpacked and unwind. I need to get that fireplace lit as soon as possible.

You agreed and helped Cove locate a suitable location for the luggage. He paused with his gift-laden suitcase in hand. Face lost in thought, Cove's grip tightened on the suitcase.

Y/N: Everything okay, Cove?

Cove: Today is Christmas Eve.

Y/N: That it is.

Cove: Presents go under the tree on Christmas Eve.

You chuckled at his observations, but allowed him to continue speaking. He brushed it off casually.

Cove: I want this to be special, Y/N. If I put the gifts under the tree now you’ll see them and start wondering what’s inside.

The concern in his tone was apparent. It was just like Cove to worry so deeply about something most people wouldn’t think about. You pondered for a moment.

Y/N: Wait for me to fall asleep tonight, then sneak them under the tree like the real Santa Claus.

Cove laughed at the implication of a “real” Santa Claus. You were glad to see his mood lighten. He hesitated, then set the suitcase behind the others, careful to conceal it. Perhaps in an attempt to block you from using your x-ray vision to see through the luggage. You thought it was ridiculous, but in the sweetest way. Satisfied with the arrangement, Cove slapped his hands against his legs.

Cove: Well, now what? What Christmas activities does Y/N have planned today?

Y/N: Let me just pull out my Christmas to-do list.

You spoke sarcastically with a twinkle in your eyes. Cove rolled his eyes lightheartedly and wandered to the fireplace. While he fiddled with it you sank heavily into the couch. With an enthused “Aha!” from Cove, the fireplace roared to life. It crackled pleasantly.

Cove turned around to smile at you sweetly. He patted the ground next to him. You got up and settled in next to Cove. He wrapped his arm around you and drew you in closer. You immediately appreciated the warmth from both Cove and the fireplace. You leaned on his shoulder.

You spent the rest of the morning watching Christmas movies and munching on candy canes. For lunch, you and Cove made macaroni and cheese. You both welcomed the gooey warmth of the meal.

Imbued with energy from lunch, you leapt from your seat and proclaimed.

Y/N: We have to go outside and enjoy the snow before the sun goes down.

Cove made a sour face and spoke quietly without looking up from his now empty bowl.

Cove: Enjoy, yeah…

You sighed and clenched your jaw, restraining yourself. You knew Cove would be difficult regarding the snow, but hoped the special occasion would nudge him along.

Y/N: Fine. I’ll go outside myself.

Cove’s head immediately snapped up and he stared at you with wide, pleading eyes. He didn’t expect you to so easily give up on convincing him. You maintained an unimpressed expression while he spoke.

Cove: No, Y/N. I’ll come with you. You know I love spending time with you no matter what.

Your expression cracked with a hint of a smile, but you regained control.

Y/N: You’re going to hate it. Don’t bother.

You weren’t sure why you were being so stubborn with this. Cove was willing to compromise, but you still felt annoyed that his initial reaction put a damper on your mood. You shut your eyes tightly, now irritated by your own childishness.

Cove stood up and firmly gripped your shoulders. He waited for you to look at him. You met his gaze and stuck out your bottom lip in a small pout.

Cove: Let’s go build a snowman. It’ll be like building a sandcastle.

You sighed, but couldn’t resist his comforting voice and adoring eyes.

Y/N: I’m going to have to bundle you in layers. Gloves, a hat, maybe even a scarf.

Cove cringed at each word that escaped your lips. He nodded anyway. You both put on more winter gear in preparation for the snow activities. You held open the door for Cove, who hesitantly stepped outside.

Cove: This is way worse than the ice skating rink.

Y/N: You don’t say?

You loved teasing Cove for his blunt and often obvious statements, but he knew you adored him for it. He scoffed and stuck his tongue out at you.

Y/N: Careful with that, might get stuck on a pole.

Cove retreated his tongue and blushed lightly. You gently poked his tummy then grabbed his hand to lead him into the snow. You chose a wide open space away from the cabin for your snowman’s home. You started shoveling snow into a pile. Cove stood reluctantly nearby. You didn’t want to push him, but hoped he would join in the building.

To your surprise, it was only a moment before Cove dug his gloved hands into the snow. He smiled at you shakily while adding to your growing pile of snow. You went back and forth between adding snow and rounding the pile into a snowman base. Cove’s big hands proved useful in this endeavor. With the base done, you moved onto the head.

Y/N: We have to make the head smaller than the body.

Cove: How small? Do you want to give him a shrunken head?

You cackled at the thought, but shook your head.

Y/N: I think he deserves a normal sized head.

Between the two of you, the snowman’s head slowly grew. You stepped back to assess the size.

Y/N: I think that’s perfect. What do you think, Cove?

Cove stepped back as well and tilted his head. He spoke matter-of-factly.

Cove: Looks like a snowman.

Y/N: Not yet, he needs a face and arms.

You scoured the ground around you for twigs, leaves, and rocks. Cove did the same.

Cove: If only we had seashells. That would bring it all together.

With your findings combined, you got to work on designing the snowman. His face came together in a wide smile made of various pebbles. Leaves stuck to the top of his head represented the hair. Two sticks on either side of his body became the arms. Cove found several small pinecones to pin on his front like an array of buttons. Finally, the nose. You didn’t have a carrot on hand, so you opted for another one of Cove’s pointier pinecones.

Once again, you stepped back with Cove to admire your work. You wrapped your arm around him in a side hug, he returned the gesture with an arm around your shoulder.

Y/N: He’s beautiful.

You pretended to dramatically wipe a tear from your eye.

Cove: We should name him.

You agreed, and began to ponder names that would fit the snowman. After much deliberation, you settled on Sandy, as a memento of the inspiration for his existence.

Y/N: Sandy the Snowman, it really is perfect.

Cove: Next time we’re at the beach we should build a sandman and name him Snowy.

Cove waggled his eyebrows at you, hoping for a reaction to his hilarious joke. You couldn’t contain the grin that emerged from within. You were suddenly overcome by a wave of affection for Cove. His dorky jokes, the way he looked at you, his willingness to put his own comfort aside for your sake. You wanted nothing more than to push him down into the snow and ravage him. Knowing better, you instead decided to grab his hand again and lead him back indoors.

Cove followed with a small gasp at your sudden insistence. Once inside, you leaned Cove against the door and pressed your lips into his. You were desperate for his warmth. He returned the kiss passionately, running his fingers through your hair. You broke away from Cove, satisfied with your second mistle-toe kiss. Cove stood bewildered, disappointed by losing the warmth of your lips. You winked at him, never tiring of teasing your flustered fiancé.

You spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other’s company. You played board games, sang Christmas songs, and drank hot chocolate. As the evening emerged, a light snowfall began outside. You gazed out the window, hypnotized by the dancing snowflakes. Your eyes began to droop, and you felt the weight of the day pulling you down. You yawned and turned to Cove, who was already turning the couch into a bed. He must have sensed your weariness.

Cove threw some blankets and pillows into the bed and you dove right into the inviting warmth. He joined you and extended his arm to make his chest available to your sleepy head. You nuzzled in and closed your eyes, ready to drift away…

You stirred awake at the feeling of the mattress shifting. Your eyes fluttered open and tried to adjust to the darkness. Cove was climbing back into bed. It was completely dark outside, you judged it must have been a few hours after you fell asleep. Still half asleep, you muttered quietly to Cove.

Y/N: Santa, baby…

You couldn’t see his expression through the darkness, instead you heard a small chuckle. You held your arms out limply, hoping for a Cove cuddle. He took you in his arms and kissed the top of your head. You continued feebly, in a sleepy sing-song voice.

Y/N: So hurry down the chimney tonight…

Cove chuckled again and stroked your cheek gently.

Cove: I love you so much.

That was the last thing you heard before falling back into a deep slumber. Several hours later, the morning sun woke you. Cove was sleeping peacefully next to you, likely exhausted from playing Santa Claus last night. You turned over and rested your body on his chest. You peppered his face in tiny kisses until he awoke. His eyes eased open, a smile already growing across his face.

Y/N: Merry Christmas, Cove.

Cove: Merry Christmas, Y/N.

Unable to contain your excitement, you leapt out of bed, leaving Cove to fully wake himself up. You ran to your suitcase and recovered the small wrapped gift you got for Cove. You decided to place it beneath the already populated tree. Your jaw dropped seeing how many gifts Cove got you. You placed the gift down carefully and went to check on Cove.

Y/N: Please tell me you’re ready to open gifts.

Cove: I’m ready, but you have to open yours first.

You didn’t argue, you wanted to save your gift to Cove for last anyway. He joined you by the tree and sat cross-legged across from you.

Y/N: Where should I start? Is there any order to this madness?

Cove thought for a moment, then pulled out one of the presents. Shiny reindeer-imprinted paper covered the box. He held it out to you.

Cove: Definitely start with this one.

Impressed that he seemed to remember what was in each box, you took the gift with a smile. You tore open the paper and uncovered the joy within: an adorable stuffed dolphin. Your eyes lit up as you hugged the little guy. You thanked Cove, who immediately bestowed you with another carefully selected box. You giggled and repeated the process. The rest of the boxes contained: a book from your favorite series, tickets to an upcoming play, rare foreign candy, colorful seashells, and a beautiful ocean-themed puzzle.

You felt overwhelmed by the thought that Cove put into each gift. You struggled to find words besides “thank you.” However, Cove wasn’t done. He handed you a final box.

Cove: One more.

You unwrapped this one carefully, a mix of anticipation and nerves stirring within. Inside was a small album titled “Our Life.” You carefully lifted it out of the box and flipped through the pages. Each page was designed to represent a point in your lives together, from childhood all the way to this past summer. There were pictures, funny quotes, tickets from various events, and doodles. Cove even included the piece of paper from your infamous hang-man game.

You were already tearing up before you noticed a smaller box within the original box. With shaking hands and a pounding heart, you opened it.

Inside the box was a simple ring with an engraved wave design. You couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears that erupted from your eyes. Your emotions surged and your mind was spinning. Without speaking, you grabbed the present you put under the tree and offered it to Cove. He was visibly confused, even a bit concerned.

Cove: Y/N, is everything okay?

You spoke through tears.

Y/N: Just open it.

Cove silently complied. His fingers carefully removed the red and white pinstriped paper. He looked at you nervously before looking into the box. His eyes widened and glistened.

Cove: A ring…

You laughed shakily and scooted closer to Cove, still holding your own small box. He looked up at you, tears streaming down his red cheeks.

Y/N: We’re already engaged, but still got rings for each other. And look at how emotional we are about it!

Cove: I thought it would be nice to make it official with a real engagement ring.

You nodded in agreement, pleased that you were both on the same page.

Y/N: Let’s put them on each other.

You exchanged rings with Cove. He held your still shaking hand and carefully slipped the ring onto your finger. You did the same, relieved that the ring was a perfect fit on his finger.

You let out a massive sigh, it felt as if you had been holding your breath for ages. Cove was admiring the ring on his finger, his ocean eyes still glimmering with tears.

Cove: It feels as magical as it did the first time on the poppy hill.

You looked at him adoringly, unable to contain the crashing ocean of love you felt inside.

Y/N: Thank you, Cove. For putting in so much effort for me. All the time. But especially this Christmas. I know holidays aren’t your thing, especially not winter ones…

Rambling nervously, you felt like Cove in that moment. He invited you to sit on his lap with a simple pat. You settled in and waited. He cradled you close and spoke quietly but confidently.

Cove: You are my thing. You’re the best gift I could ask for. You make braving holidays and snow worth it. I can’t imagine how this day could get any better.

Cove was right. The morning was still fresh, and you were already swimming in bliss. You sniffled, feeling lucky to have him and looking forward to living your life with the man you love. Christmas Day would hold a special place in your hearts for the rest of your lives.

[ateezmakemeweep]

ateez x reader; christmas drabbles

word count: ~500 each  

fluff

kim hongjoong - making cookies

the small apartment smelt of balsam and sugar cookies, soft pajamas covering your legs as you watched your boyfriend peek inside the oven for the third time in ten minutes.

it’d become somewhat of a christmas night tradition, spending the day with your families exchanging gifts, eating a big dinner and playing a card game that almost always turned into light-hearted arguments. 

but then at night, you’d leave before dessert and make your own at home. change into warm clothes, light a festive candle and enjoy the comfort and warmth of just each other. 

even if it meant yelling at hongjoong for opening the oven and delaying the cookies even more. 

“they’re gonna take longer if you keep opening it!” you whine to him from the couch, watching him turn around with a guilty expression on his face. 

you can’t help but smile, completely changing your tone as you reach your arms out to him needily. you giggle when he abandons the kitchen almost immediately, promptly collapsing on top of your lazy form. 

“i’m just excited,” he mumbles, a child-like tone in his voice that’s a bit uncharacteristic for your boyfriend. it makes you smile happily though, linking your arms around his neck.

he leans down for quick, chaste kiss, the lingering taste of wine and cookie dough on his lips. you pull away before he can deepen it, not wanting to risk burning the cookies since you put the whole batch in.

you meet his gaze and feel your breath catch in your throat at the way he’s looking at you, breath catching in your throat at the soft, fondness in them.

“i like coming home with you. it’s my favorite part of christmas, i think,” he mumbles quietly, like he doesn’t wanna risk anyone else hearing these words but you.

but it’s just you and him here. it always is on christmas night.

“what about the cookies?” you tease, fighting back the happy tears threatening to burn your eyes; because even though hongjoong is sweet, he’ll absolutely laugh at you if you start getting teary eyed from his softly spoken confessions. 

“they’re good too, i guess.”

your loud giggle fills the apartment when he places tiny, little pecks on your neck, feeling his smile on your skin before the dinging of the oven causing an excited gasp to leave your mouth. 

“they’re done but they still need to air co-”

your boyfriend was up and over to pull the cookies out before you could stop him, cringing at the way he slides the baking sheet on the cutting board without oven mitts. 

“would you be careful,” you yelp, bumping your hip into his so you could close the oven with the proper protective gear. 

your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your dramatics, taking you by the waist and plopping you up on the counter when you’re done. you let out a surprised squeal and smile when you’re face to face, bending down ever so slightly to peck his lips again. 

your mouths meet in a kiss that has hongjoong pulling you off the counter to hold you against it, your legs wrapped around tightly around his waist. 

you kiss and giggle into each other’s mouths for the perfect amount of time for the cookies to finish, pulling away quickly to grab one and shove it in your boyfriend’s face. 

he narrows his eyes but chews it regardless, munching on the soft chocolatey taste before feeding you one. 

you don’t even make it back to the living room before they’re all gone, deciding to make a batch of brownies next because “we need a snack for the movie.”

park seonghwa - christmas morning 

most mornings, you woke to an empty bed and the blaring of your alarm.

it was especially sad because no matter what your boyfriend’s schedule was, he always made sure to be home before you went to bed.

it’s why waking up without him was always that much harder, the bed cold and apartment feeling empty - this morning, however, was different in the best kind of way. 

you woke to the feel of soft pecks on your face, your eyes fluttering open in confusion when a deep chuckle tickled your skin. 

“good morning, baby. merry christmas.”

it took you a few seconds to remember what today was and why seonghwa was home. 

you can’t remember the last time he woke you up like this (apart from the two days a few weeks ago when he took off because you had a bad stomach virus). 

but right now, you’re just so overwhelmed with happiness. a smile brightening your tired face as you throw your arms around his neck and push your face into him. 

his arms come up to wrap you in a hug, a chuckle leaving his mouth again as he presses his lips to your skin. 

“i wish i could wake up to you more,” he mumbled sweetly in your ear, caught off by your reaction but also feeling his heart soar; he loves when your clingy like this, especially when you’re sleepy in bed.

“merry christmas, seonghwa,” your scratchy, morning voice mumbles softly, a smile on his face as he presses one last kiss to your lips. 

“hi, my love. you want any breakfast yet?”

you only mumble in protest, shaking your head as you push your face further into him. you feel him laugh against your head and hide your pout into his pajama shirt.

you two don’t have to go out until three p.m. so seonghwa’s quick to crawl back under the covers, settling you against him as your head becomes completely buried in his warm chest. 

he fears for a moment that you can’t breathe like this but then feels your soft breaths against him, his hand running up and down your back gently. 

it’s how he stays for the next hour and a half, switching between watching you sleep and closing his eyes. 

he never falls asleep but he’s completely at ease, warm and relaxed in bed with the knowledge that you’re safe and comfortable right beside him. 

and when you finally wake for real this time, a tiny yawn leaving your mouth as you turn in his hold, you give him the same bright smile you did when you were half asleep. 

“seonghwa,” you say happily, surprised to see him still right beside you. “you’re home.”

“of course i’m home, baby,” he says, a part of his chest hurting at the surprise on your face; after today, he’s gonna try and make it a personal mission to wake up with you more - even if it means asking to go into the studio a few hours later one or two days a week.

your next words get cut off by the growling of your stomach, an embarrassed flush crossing your cheeks that causes him to peck a kiss on both. 

“let me make you something, love.”

before you can even protest, he scoops you up and into his arms. he ignores your loud squeals and giggles as he walks into the living room, right past the presents under the tree and into the kitchen.

he places you on the counter and taps your nose lightly, watching with a small smile as you sit crossed-legged and help him pour messy pancake batter into a pan. 

it’s a lousy attempt at making the snowman pancakes you saw a video of a few days ago but they still taste good, especially because seonghwa feeds each and every one to you. 

jeong yunho - secret santa

while you were grateful for the $20 budget your friend-group’s secret santa implemented, you always had a tough time putting a cute gift together; you didn’t want it to be cheesy but you also didn’t wanna go over budget and make anyone feel bad. 

but you can even admit secretly that when you picked yunho’s name from the hat a month ago, you were heavily considering going all out. 

you had a crush on your friend for as long as you could remember, his sweet smile and bubbly spirit easily making you fall for him. 

he was like that with everyone, gave everyone soft looks and always genuinely cared for them, but it didn’t stop your silly self from falling. 

from having such an all-consuming, heart-pounding crush on him that picking out a gift for him seemed damn near impossible. 

“i’m not gonna give him my confession as a gift, are you crazy!” you squeal at your friend, embarrassed and horrified by the idea alone. “that’s so embarrassing and cheesy.”

“okay but it’s not just your confession, it’s an ornament too! and i already told you that he likes you back so it won’t be embarrassing!”

and you don’t know what the hell you were thinking, allowing your friend to drag you to the mall and pick out a cute merry christmas ornament with two pictures of you and yunho in the red and green balls. 

the first was from your first day of a college together, yunho looking as handsome as ever in a maroon sweater and bubbly smile. the second was from this past summer, when you and all your friends went on vacation to the beach.

you had accidentally matched in yellow bathing suits and were all but forced to take a picture together, your friend snapping a candid one of you both laughing in embarrassment together. 

anyone with eyes could see your gazes held such soft affection and love but both of you were too blind to see it. it’d be a christmas miracle, really, if the two of you would finally get your feelings out in the open. 

the night of secret santa came and you were absolutely terrified, shakily handing yunho your gift and watching his smile light up when he sees you had him this whole time. 

he loved the present and thanked you with a tight hug, his warm, broad chest causing your heart to flutter; but you were nervous for nothing because he didn’t flip the ornament over to reveal your hand-written “i like you.” 

not until two nights later, when you opened your apartment door to see him standing there with a wide smile and pink flush on his cheeks. 

“hey, yunho. what are you doing he-”

he cut you off with a rushed, “i like you, too,” taking in your wide-eyed expression before bending down to crash his lips against yours.

kang yeosang - ugly sweater party

the last place you wanted to be was this ugly sweater party. 

it wasn’t that you didn’t have any christmas spirit, you loved christmas and it was your favorite holiday, but the day had been unkind to you. 

tragedy after tragedy that felt you feeling like the grinch during this holiday season.

you were able to fake it for a little bit, sing along to christmas karaoke, pose for pictures in your ugly sweater, and even participate in a cookie decorating contest. 

but by the middle of the night, when the eggnog had gotten to everyone else, you were done. 

your bad day had caught up to you and you found solace in your friend’s tiny balcony, snow on the ground and the cold chill in the air not even enough to keep you away. 

you heard the door squeak open and expected your friend’s drunken voice to greet you but, instead, you heard someone very different. 

a deep, unfamiliar voice that sent chills up your spine. 

“oh. sorry. i didn’t know anyone else was out here.”

you turn around to see a boy with a not-so-ugly, ugly christmas sweater and pink hair. it’s then that you recognize him as your friend’s co-worker who won the cookie decorating contest earlier, his face as beautiful as it seems kind. 

the shy, sheepish look he throws your way is enough to soften even your grinch-like spirit tonight. 

“it’s okay.”

you know he doesn’t move for a few seconds because you don’t hear the snow crunching underneath his boots. 

but once he finally does, he sits on the other side of the balcony, dusting off one of the chairs and hissing through his teeth at the cold. 

“should’ve worn gloves,” he mumbles, almost to himself even though you let out a small chuckle.

“or maybe you shouldn’t have touched the snow with your bare hands.” 

when there’s a few beats of silence in the air, you think he took offense to your joking comment and quickly look up. there’s an amused look in his eyes and a smirk quirking at his lips, a deep chuckle that sends butterflies through your stomach finally leaving his mouth. 

“that’s very true.”

you smile at the boy and try not to feel too giddy when he smiles back, roaming his face a little bit before you decide to speak again.

“you won the cookie decorating contest, didn’t you?” 

“i did,” he smiles, a mock look of pride in his face as he nods his head. “you had the gingerbread men, right? with the wonky arms and crooked smile?”

an uncontrollable laugh bubbles out of your mouth at his retort, your hand flying to your face so you can cover your mouth - they really were wonky arms.

“yes. yes i did.”

your laughs linger for a few more seconds, yours more high-pitch and breathy while his are deep and full. 

it’s exactly what you needed tonight, a laugh to dwell all the stresses that come with end of the year shopping and last minute work projects. 

“i’m sure they were still good,” he says, a soft sweetness in his tone that makes you smirk. 

“i wouldn’t know, i didn’t get a chance to try them,” you say with a smirk.

because wonky or not, crooked smiles or not, you know they were good. the only thing you’re capable of baking is gingerbread cookies. 

“maybe because i had four of them.”

another laugh leaves your mouth and yeosang finds himself smiling again, your tongue peeking out to lick at your dry, cold lips.

“well, i’m sad to say i didn’t get to try your award winning cookies.”

a smirk crosses his face as he looks you over, slight nerves coursing through him before he decides to say fuck it and allows the next words to leave his mouth. 

“maybe one day you can,” he says lowly, a teasing softness in his eyes when he scoots closer to your chair and holds out his cold hand. “i’m yeosang.”

choi san - snowed in

when the forecast for tuesday night called for 24 inches snow, no one took it seriously. 

of course, there was a rush of people in the grocery stores taking precautions - buying bread and milk and all the necessities in the event that the weatherman was actually correct. 

but they never seemed to be right. 

only half of that usually falls, if it doesn’t turn to rain and slush by the end of then night - this time, however, they were right. 

you and san woke on wednesday morning to a blanket of snow and flakes falling from the sky, your blonde, sleepy boyfriend crawling back into bed and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“san, you have work,” you mumbled sleepily, whining to him despite the way you turned over and buried yourself in his chest; he was just so warm and comfortable, his scent surrounding you in a way you always loved. 

“no, i don’t. it snowed,” he tells you quietly, his eyes closed and lips brushing against your head. “a lot actually.”

the feeling of happiness and relief that ran through you was almost concerning, knowing that for all day and night, you got to be here with him. sleep in and dedicate your day to laying around, eating and watching tv. 

you opened your eyes to ask san which series he wanted to start today to already see him fast asleep again, breathing softly with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. 

you smiled at the sight and moved closer to him, hearing a content sigh leave him before your own eyes grew heavy and you were back to sleep. 

the second time san woke, it was to the smell of waffles and syrup. 

padding his way into the kitchen to see you moving happily, plopping the cooked dough on two plates as you hum and move your body side to side. 

he leaned his head against the wall and held back a laugh, bit down on his lip and smiled at the sight of you cooking and dancing so happily. 

“did you make some for me, too?”

you jumped at the sound of his voice, your screeched “jesus christ!” making a loud laugh escape him. 

he quickly made his way over to you, hugging you from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled good morning to you. 

“you weren’t kidding about the snow,” you tell him, craning your neck back to look at him all wide-eyed and surprised. “there’s so much!”

“i know, right,” he says, opening his mouth with a pleading look in his eye; you roll your own but can’t resist popping a piece of waffle in his mouth, making sure to douse it in syrup first.

he hums happily at the taste before detaching himself from you, helping you clean up and finish the waffles before ushering you both away from the kitchen. 

you don’t leave your spot from the couch all day, only ever leaving for pee breaks or to refill your hot chocolate mugs. 

your body rested atop his, your head on his chest and legs between his as you listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat. 

the fireplace was crackling and your favorite christmas candle was burning, the freezing storm outside a stark contrast to the warmth inside your apartment. 

“are you falling asleep?” you hear san mumble, your heavy eyes shooting open at the teasing in his voice. 

“no,” you whine guiltily, a pout on your lips that he can’t help but kiss.

but he also can’t help when, a few moments later, he laughs upon noticing your breaths turned even and body relaxed against his. 

he takes the blanket from the back of the couch and places it on your sleeping form gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he also succumbs to a mid-afternoon nap.

song mingi - christmas eve date

“maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“we already paid for it, baby.”

“do we really wanna crack our heads open the night before christ-”

your boyfriend tugged on your hand and brought you onto the ice despite your protests, your hand tightly grabbing onto his. 

“mingi!” 

his deep chuckle echoes through the cold air, steadying your shaky legs as you two begin to navigate on the ice. 

you and mingi spent this christmas eve finishing the last bits of shopping for tomorrow, dragging him from store to store for the perfect gift for his mother.

your day was packed full of visiting both your families tomorrow, the first big holiday since you guys started dating before going to his friend’s for a christmas slumber party.

your boyfriend took one look at the ice skating rink after hours of shopping and waiting on line and knew you guys had to try it; you, however, were much more hesitant.

“i’m scared.”

“don’t be, baby, c’mon,” his deep voice whines, pulling you closer and holding onto your cold hand tighter. “i’m not gonna let you fall.”

“i think i’m more concerned about you falling,” you admit quietly, mingi rolling his eyes before he lets go of you.

you stutter on the unfamiliar ground beneath you, arms flailing and voice squealing. you’re almost positive you’re about to fall back on your ass before he loops his arm around your waist, losing his balance for a second before stabilizing.  

he can only smirk at the look on your face, eyes narrowed and cheeks flushed red as he raises his eyebrow at you. 

“me falling?” he asks sarcastically, a scoff leaving your mouth as you stick your tongue out at him.

the more time you spent on the ice, the more you got comfortable. 

you never let go of mingi’s hand but he also never tried to let go of yours, both of you skating around the rink and laughing when a certain little boy kept looping you guys.

“i swear the little shit’s doing it on purpose,” mingi growled lowly, your arm knocking into him as you suppressed the urge to laugh; it took the kid doing it three more times before almost knocking into you that mingi told him he was on the naughty list and wasn’t getting presents tomorrow.

“you can’t just say that to little kids, mingi,” you chastise as you both take off your skates an hour later, your toes aching and hands freezing. 

“he was being a showoff and almost hit you.”

you roll your eyes before throwing him a blank look, the soft look in his eye one you can’t stay mad at long - especially when he drags you off to the hot chocolate stand a block over.

you two ended the night with mugs of hot chocolate and a gingerbread cookie to share, mingi feeding you every bite before wiping the crumbs from your cold lips. 

“let’s get you home now before you freeze, baby.”

jung wooyoung - first christmas

you weren’t sure what to expect for your first christmas with wooyoung.

your first valentine’s day had been surprisingly romantic, a home-cooked meal from wooyoung that resulted in you realizing your boyfriend had talent that rivaled a professional chefs. 

your first birthday celebration with him was just as fun as it was embarrassing, him serenading you at the restaurant along with the staff and making your cheeks turn pink.

your first thanksgiving was spent with his friends who you’d grown to love, watching as him and san battled over who got to break the wishbone with seonghwa. 

something they all had in common that, while wooyoung was always sweet and loving and kind, they were extremely chaotic. something almost always happened that created some sort of disturbance in the holiday. 

he hadn’t known you were allergic to tomatoes, so the sauce he made on valentine’s day made your lips blow up. 

he’d knocked over his soda when they placed your birthday cake down at the restaurant, promptly soaking the table cloth and you.

him and san couldn’t agree on the wishbone so they both broke it into several pieces, at least ten minutes of the meal spent picking shards of bone off the floor so no one stepped on it.

that’s why you were surprised when christmas morning was... peaceful.

he woke you with a kiss on the lips and a lowly mumbled, “merry christmas, love,” the two of you lounging around in bed for so long, you were almost late for an early dinner at his parent’s house. 

wooyoung at his childhood home showed you a nice side to the boy and it was one that you loved a lot; it was every bit as loud and crazy as the other holidays you’d had with him.

him and his mom’s identical laugh and his younger siblings and cousins running around like crazy. the food nearly went up into flames because wooyoung forgot to take it out of the oven and to top it all of, you both forgot the gifts at home. 

but it was still one of the best christmases you’ve ever had.

looking up at wooyoung as you both sat on the couch and smiling softly at him, kissing his cheek as he tightened his arm around you and hummed contently against your head.

“how was your christmas, baby?” he whispered in your ear, a smile lighting up your face as you met his gaze.

“it was perfect... thanks to you,” you mumble shyly, a smirk crossing his lips as he swallows down a wise-ass remark and, instead, pecks your cheek sweetly.

choi jongho - gingerbread house

you hadn’t met to start it as a competition - the deal at the store was simply buy one gingerbread house kit, get one free.

but when jongho saw them both sitting on the kitchen table a few days before christmas, he had challenged you and you couldn’t refuse. 

it’s why you’re both currently in the predicament you’re in, sat at opposite ends of the table with christmas music on and a merry cookie candle burning to get you in the competitive christmas spirit. 

“oh... wow. interesting use of the jelly beans,” you say to jongho, peeking at his house and feeling dread pool in the pit of your stomach - how did he get them in such a perfectly straight line? 

“too bad they’re the most disgusting candy in there.”

jongho let out a scoff as he eyed your house, holding back a laugh at the icing lining the roof of your house. 

“interesting pattern on your roof. were you going for the runny look?”

your mouth dropped open and you did what any mature person would do in a gingerbread house competition - taking the nearest bag of candy and flinging it at your boyfriend’s head. 

a look of shock and mock anger crossed his face before he shook his head. 

your eyes widened when you saw him rise from his seat and you immediately took off, trying to run into the living room before he quickly caught you around the waist.

you giggled and flailed in his hold as he demanded an apology from you, demanded for you to tell him that his use of jelly beans was smart and that they weren’t a disgusting addition to his house.

even though you have a distaste for them, you love your boyfriend, so you rose up on your tippy toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“you did a good job. i did better but you did good, too.”

“we’re not even done so i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you were able to last at the table for 30 more minutes before a quarrel broke out again, this time your bag of candy bouncing off his gingerbread roof. 

your mouth dropped open when it messed up his icing and he could tell by the way your face paled that you thought you really messed up now; it’s why he simply plucked the tiny part of his own chimney off and took a bite out of it, a loud laugh leaving you as you ran over to plop down on his lap.

you opened your mouth awaitingly and he narrowed his eyes in mock thought, placing the cookie in your mouth when you whined a tiny “please,” that made a smile light up his face. 

despite the hard work and fleeting motivation, neither of you had any issue taking your houses apart to eat them and all of the candy - minus the jelly beans that jongho made sure to set aside for himself.

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @chrryhwa @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @toffee-hwa @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii​ 

[starshinegoblin]

You’re My Moon

read more Merry & Bright | Prompt: Ornament | Pairing: Ming x Kit

"God, it's cold." Beam complained the moment they got out of the warmth of Forth's truck. Beam visibly shivered as he pulled Forth's dark grey wool jacket more closed.

"Can you stop complaining?" Kit huffed in annoyance. He loved Beam but the man was seriously testing his patience. Forth had been generous enough to lend them his still warm truck when Beam said he wanted to go grab some presents with Kit in the outdoor market. There had been some resistance at first from the hazer. Then Beam had given Forth a look and it actually took a few more rather long minutes for him to cave. Honestly, he couldn't blame him either. Beam had recently gotten over a really bad strain of the flu. Forth finally agreed  if they took his truck and they had to be back by the time Ming and his hazing meeting was over. Which meant that while it was cold at least they'd have day light instead of shopping at night time.

"You're lucky we shared that pudding cup in elementary school." Beam snapped playfully at him pulling him out of his thoughts just in time to be shoulder bumped.

"You're lucky Forth let's you drive that truck. Imagine how willing he'd be after he found out about P'Nat's 4Runner." Kit sassed back with a grin on his face.

"Hey! You said that you wouldn't ever bring that back up! Besides, Forth wouldn't care about that." Beam laughed as he playfully slapped Kit's shoulder.

"Keep telling yourself that, Jan." Kit joked as they walked through through the entrance of the outdoor market. "But all jokes aside, thanks for telling him you wanted to go shopping. I have to find an ornament today." He was a little upset with himself though because the Daichapanya ornament exchange tradition is important. He didn't want to just get Ming any ornament. This was their first exchange with his family and he didn't want him to think he didn't care.

"The things we do in the name of a pudding cup years later." Beam continued to joke earning a weak daggerish glare from Kit "That's what best friends are for and besides N'Cake had recommended the stall at the end of the third row when I told her what you were looking for."

"Okay." Kit nodded as they made their way towards the vendor. They passed several ornament stalls. The only one that caught his eye was the stall that had been blown glass ornaments. He'd favored a black with navy reflects blown glass gear, but it didn't feel right. Ming had told him that his father was an engineer too so there would probably ones like this one their family tree.

So they continued on grabbing something warm to drink to help fight the cold air. When they approached the stall N'Cake was talking about he understood why she had recommended it. The craftsman was a true artist. Her specialty being able to make metal ornaments that almost looked like wind chimes. He found a couple that he thought would be cute but his eyes fell on the one she was currently working on. A crescent moon resting on clouds with three chains of stars dangling from the clouds.

"I can attach a star that I can engrave a message on in the middle if you want this one, dear." the older woman stated as she stopped her work and reached for the charm.

"Yes, please, P." He nodded taking the pencil and paper that she gave him. He knew just what to put on it.

It was hours later with him and Ming already at Ming's parent's house. Their home was more cozy than what he'd anticipated and decorated to the hilt. He'd thought it would be something elegant out of a Martha Stewart catalog but no it was wonderfully tacky and excessive. Ming informed him that his Mother and Grandmother adored the holiday.  The christmas tree was tall but not to the ceiling and the older ornaments were already on it. They'd put them on the tree before eating dinner. The new ones would go on after they ate.

He rather enjoyed though that the mantle was stocked full of older christmas pictures. He loved trying to find ones of Ming and that's where his boyfriend found him. Standing in front of the fire place nursing a cup of hot cocoa filling up the time as Ming, grandmother, and his mom wrapped up cleaning the kitchen. He would have helped but they'd shooed him out. Ming's father had gotten a call so he'd left Kit alone in the living room.

"Do you want some more hot chocolate, Kitkat?" Ming asked drawing him out of his thoughts.

"No, I'm good." Kit answered as Ming wrapped an around his waist pulling him close.

"Which one are you looking at?"

"This one." Kit said pointing with his finger holding the coffee cup towards a picture of Ming and Yo emerging from a rather tall box.

"Ahhh, that one is good." Ming chuckled "This is back when Yo's mom was still alive. We celebrated christmas together that year. We both had gotten so many presents, but we ended up playing with the boxes they came in."

Kit could help but laugh. Of course those two would do something like that. It was like they shared one brain cell sometimes, but he guessed the same could be said about him, Beam, and Pha.

"Good times." Ming's mother stated from behind them making them turn around to find the other three watching them with smiles.

"Everyone ready to exchange our ornaments?" Ming's grandmother asked cheerfully sipping on her coffee.

"Yes." Ming answered excitedly as he helped his mom pass out the gifts. Kit couldn't help but watch anxiously as Ming opened his gift box. He hoped that Ming liked it. Ming carefully undid the white ribbon before lifting the top of the black box off. He shuffled the delicate paper it'd been wrapped in open to find his ornament.

Kit's breath caught at the warm smile that took over his boyfriend's face. Ming had many smiles but this one was the one that was intimate. He only showed this one to Kit when he was at his utmost happy and sentimental. Lithe hands delicately lifted the metal ornament from it's package. His eyes catching something written on the bottom charm. He used his other hand to hold it in place to read it: You'll always be the moon that holds my heart. Kit felt his ears blush as Ming's gaze flicked to meet his. He knew the words were cheesy but he the most important part is that he meant them. Ming had his heart and he would always love him.

"That's beautiful, honey!" Ming's mother exclaimed seeing the ornament as she got up to go put her's and his father's on the tree.

"Yes, it is." Ming replied not taking his eyes off Kit.

"Open yours sweetie." Ming's Grandmother said gently resting a hand on Kit's shoulder. Kit nodded swallowing before doing just that. He set the lid beside him searching in the sea of crinkled cut up paper.His fingers finally finding the wire hook. He lifted the ornament out and couldn't help the laugh the bubbled out. He knew exactly who got his name when they had drawn names at Thanksgiving brunch. His ornament  was a blown glass cat with a glittery green scarf and santa's hat. Inside the stomach area is a glittery designed kitkat package.

"I love it." Kit chuckled making Ming preen from his seat across from him.

"That's so adorable!" Ming's grandmother stated admiring the ornament "Hurry go put it on the tree so we can take this years picture."

"Let me go find the camera!" Ming's dad stated suddenly rising from his seat. Ming's mother and grandmother playfully swatting at him and scolding him for forgetting the camera. The three of them distracted, Kit and Ming got up to put their ornaments on the tree. Ming found his easily enough but the only other good places were up high.

"Here let me." Ming offered gently taking the ornament to put it on the tree for him.

"Thank you." Kit smiled letting himself leaning against Ming's chest.

"You're welcome." Ming replied giving him one of his beaming smiles before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. As they parted they heard the telling sound of a camera lens shuttering.

"Grandma!" Ming lightly scolded as they turned around sheepishly.

"Oops." Ming's grandmother cackled.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

A Christmas Fairytale

Summary: All Bucky wanted was you and the snow. Missing the love of your life at Christmas is hard.

Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Pretty much fluff. Little bit of sad, but then a bunch of happy

A/N: Holidays are hard sometimes, especially when you’re missing people or can’t make it home. So no matter what holiday you’re celebrating, or even if you’re not celebrating a damn thing and are just missing someone, this story is for anyone who’s wishing for a little miracle now and then. 

MASTERLIST

I’ll be home for Christmas. You can count on me.

The fresh snow crunches under your boots as you wander slowly down the sidewalk, hands tucked deep in the pockets of Bucky’s blue peacoat. It was far too large, hanging nearly to your knees, and you had to push the sleeves up every time you needed your fingers, but it was soft and warm and smelled like his cologne. Dammit, you missed him.

It’s late this Christmas Eve, and the city is beginning to settle. The ever-present hum is still there, that persistent buzz found only in New York, combined with the mad dash of frantic shoppers, rushing for taxis and subways, last minute purchases shoved hastily in red plastic bags.

Lost in thought, you turn the familiar lyrics over in your mind. Home for Christmas. It’s the last plea of a desperate traveler, the perpetual wish on the tip of every soldier’s tongue.  

Bucky’s been talking about Christmas for months, dreaming of spending it in the city, walking in the snow, seeing the windows at Macy’s, getting a picture with Santa. Little things in the grand scheme of life, but important to him. You know he’ll be disappointed. He promised you he’d come home, and now he’s breaking that promise.

It’s hard sometimes, to love a soldier.

So, you stroll the streets of New York searching for distractions, anything to keep your brain occupied, while your beating heart is somewhere far away, risking his life in a bid to keep the world safe. You can never fault him for it, his burning desire to set things right, to reset the scales he believes are eternally unbalanced against his past deeds; it’s something about him that you love unconditionally.

But it breaks your heart a little. All he wanted this year was to watch the snow fall over the city.

***

Bucky sighs as he pulls a bag from the depths of his closet. Sitting quietly on his bed, draped in one of his enormous old hoodies, you watch him fill the canvas carry-on.

“Do you know where you’re headed?”

He holds up the tactical gear with a rueful expression. A swirl of light colours in a desert camouflage pattern. “Nowhere with snow.”

Giving him an encouraging smile, you shake your head. “It’ll be quick Buck, over and done in no time.”

He’s carefully sliding knives into cases and slipping them into the pockets of his tac pants, and you see his shoulders give a disappointed shrug.

“Maybe. I wanted to be here for the first snow though. One thing that always made me feel like Christmas was close.”

Stuffing a lightweight beige jacket into the bag, he zips it shut and kicks it off to the side, before leaning down to where you sit, your arms wrapped around your knees. Placing his palms on either side of your hips, he ducks in for a kiss, lips brushing your cheek, before trailing to your mouth. Kicking your feet out, you press your heels into the back of his thighs and give a jerk, so he comes tumbling down on you with a laugh. He rubs his beard against your neck, and you can feel his smile.

“I’ll miss you,” he breathes into your skin.

“I’ll miss you,” you answer with a whisper. “I have something for you though.”

Reaching into your hoodie pocket, you pull out a small plastic object and offer it to him, a grin on your face.

Bucky pulls away and looks down, confused as he looks at the little plastic ball that houses a miniature New York City skyline. Then his face clears, and he huffs out a laugh.

“A snow globe?”

“Yep,” you tuck it into his hand. “Now you can make it snow no matter where you are.”

*****

There’s a clanging that catches your ear, a bell ringing through the clear night, and you come back to the present, noticing your location. Digging a handful of change from Bucky’s coat pocket, you drop it into the little red tin, the Salvation Army volunteer giving you a cheerful ‘Merry Christmas’ at the gesture.

Crowds are smaller on Christmas Eve, giving you a chance to see the Macy’s display windows up close in all their glory. The theme this year is ‘Christmas of the Past’, every window showcasing a display of Christmas mornings through the years.

There’s a lovely old West image, a family in a log cabin in the mountains, little red stockings hanging in front of a roughhewn mantle.

There’s a lavish, Victorian era parlour room, little girls in frilly dresses with new china dolls.

The scene from the 1970s makes you laugh, everything angular and geometric, colours in eyewatering shades of green and orange and brown, with so much shag carpet.

And there on the corner, a soft scene drawn straight from his memories, is a family on Christmas morning in the 1920s. 

The details are exactly as Bucky has remembered it in his stories, and you raise a hand to the glass, wishing you could step into the display and find him. Out of all the memories that came back for him, you were relieved one in particular had made a re-appearance. His father bringing in the tree a couple days before Christmas. Draping silver strings of tinsel over the branches and hanging the glass ornaments his mother had collected over the years. His sister Becca digging into her stocking, finding sticks of rock candy and the smooth, bright orange wedged in the round toe.

Pulling out your phone, you snap a handful of photos of the scene; if Bucky can’t be here to see it himself, you can still save a bit of Christmas for when he finally comes home.

***

 “Um, favourite Christmas you remember.”

Bucky groans dramatically. “Too hard. They were all good. Different question.”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “Come on. There had to be one that stands out.”

You’re lying in a tangle of arms and legs on the living room floor, bundled together in a colourful patchwork quilt. It’s still not cold enough to snow, but outside the leaden sky has opened, fat drops of cold rain splashing against the windows.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you curl into him, pulling him close. He rests his chin on the top of your head, his hands stroking lightly up and down your back as he thinks.

“Okay, I have something,” his chest vibrates against your ear, his voice low. “It was Christmas in 1931, two years after the market crashed in ’29. Whole country was sunk with the Depression, and we couldn’t afford anything. Hell, half the country couldn’t even afford to buy bread.” He sighs at this, pulls you tighter. “Anyway, there was no money for gifts, so I decided to try and shove my way into a poker game with a couple older guys down the block, who had a – a bit of a reputation.”

At this, you grumble. “Good god Bucky.”

He gives a little grunt when you poke him in the side. “Huh, same think my Ma said. Well, so Steve comes with me, and after a couple hands I was doing good, and then the guy pulls out this pair of kids roller skates. Guess he got ‘em from some factory or other – maybe he stole them, I didn’t ask – and he threw ‘em on the table. And that was it, I just had to have them for Becca, knew she’d love them. Had nothing to bet with though, until Steve decided to throw his Granddad’s pocket watch on the pile. They dealt the cards, and I’ll be god damned – I pulled a straight flush. Best hand I’ve ever taken in my entire life. Won the pot and high-tailed it out before they could think twice.”

He shifts again, hooks an ankle over your leg, tries to pull you even closer. “Christmas morning, I wrap them in an old shirt, and when she opens it, I swear I never seen a kid light up like that, she was so damn excited. It hadn’t snowed yet that year, so first chance we got, I took her outside and she strapped them on and I ran up and down the block, pulling her behind me.” Bucky chuckles at the memory. “She never actually learned how to use them. I was still pulling her around the block the next Christmas.”

He’s a vivid storyteller, and at his words, the images come easily. The thought of Bucky as a knobby-kneed, dark haired young boy doing everything in his power to make his little sister happy? It made your heart fit to burst, suddenly too big for your chest.

He’s such a good man.

There’s a quiet knock at the door, a voice calling for him. Real life intrudes again, breaking the spell. Burying your face against his chest, you give him a squeeze.

“Be careful Bucky. Finish this up, and you – you come home for Christmas, okay?”

Bucky stays silent as he holds you, before gently pulling away to look down, giving you a crooked smile, blue eyes unreadable. He runs his thumb over your lips, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll come home for Christmas. I promise.”

*****

Several blocks later, you find yourself at the entrance to the holiday market in Central Park. It’s even later now, and the crowds have dispersed. Down a winding path, you can see Santa’s workshop nestled snug in the trees, a warm yellow light spilling from the windows into the lane. Bucky always joked about taking you to visit Santa, insisted there was no way you would get what you wanted, unless Santa knew.

Perhaps it’s too late, but you walk up the path anyway, to see if Santa can find time for one more Christmas wish.

Climbing up the steps of Santa’s little log cabin workshop, you raise your hand to knock, but the door opens before your knuckles touch the wood. The bright light washes over you, and there’s the man himself, Santa Claus, standing in the doorway. He towers above you, twinkling eyes looking down through the glasses settled on his nose, round cheeks rosy red from the cold.

“Well, what have we here!” his voice is so cheerfully animated, you can’t help but smile at the sound.

“Sorry Santa, guess I’m a little late.”

Santa simply laughs, shaking his head merrily, curly white beard dancing with the movement. “Young lady, it’s never too late. Now, you tell me that Christmas wish now, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I think my wish this year might be a little impossible.”

Eyes dropping to your boots, you blink rapidly, trying to stem the tears. Santa’s voice is kind when he responds. 

“Now then, you listen to me. Christmas is a time for miracles. Don’t forget, anything is possible. You never know what’s right behind you.”

There’s a quiet sound, someone clearing their throat in the velvety darkness behind you.

“Merry Christmas Santa. Do you have anything in your workshop as beautiful as she is?”

The sound of that deep, rough, familiar voice slices through the frosty night air. Lifting your eyes to Santa’s face, you find him looking over your shoulder, a secretive smile behind that white beard.

Impossible.

Turning slowly, you find a man standing at the bottom of the steps. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a heavy black jacket, hands tucked into the pockets. Dark hair curls at the base of his neck, longer than you remember, and when he reaches to brush it back, you see his bright blue eyes sparkling happily. With a shout, you leap from the top step into his arms.

He catches you with a laugh, arms closing around you, spinning you in a dizzying circle, before setting you back on your feet, his warm lips finding yours. He tastes like cinnamon and chocolate and candy canes and Christmas.

“You,” you breathed, feeling the tears fill your eyes. You don’t try to blink them away this time. “I want you, I wish for you.” Gripping his jacket tight, you pull his face down, touching your cold nose to his.

“You got me, sweetheart.” Bucky grins at your excitement, his arms locked around you. “I promised I’d come home for Christmas. I wasn’t going to break that.” He drops a kiss on your nose, gently kisses your lips, once twice, three times, before he leans back. Tilting his head, he looks down in surprise at your outfit, and gives a quiet laugh. “I was looking everywhere for that jacket.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, a little embarrassed. “Been feeling sentimental.”

“That’s okay, I just needed something from the pocket.” Quirking an eyebrow, he reaches for the lapels of the jacket, his fingers catching a tiny button on the front pocket, and he twists it open, reaching three long fingers into the silky lining.

He pulls his hand back, tucking a tiny item into his fist, closing the fingers tight. Looking at him in confusion, you look down at his hand, and notice it’s shaking slightly.

“Buck?”

He takes a deep breath, glances up to the heavens. And he begins to laugh.

Thick white snowflakes appear seemingly out of nowhere, and suddenly the dark night is a swirl of white as they fall, soft and heavy.

Bucky looks back to you, sees the delicate flakes catch in your eyelashes as you meet his gaze, and he feels his heart jump. His voice is quiet when he speaks.

“Only thing I’ll ever want for Christmas is you.”

“Me too Bucky.” Placing a hand over his heart, you give him gentle smile.

He nods, watching you. When he unclasps his fingers, you look down. 

Laying in his palm, is a diamond ring.

“Promise I’ll always do whatever it takes to make it home to you. Knowing you’re waiting for me? That’s all I’ll ever need. So sweetheart, I guess my Christmas wish is this - will you marry me?”

Bucky Barnes stands before you, hopeful and terrified, holding his breath as he waits for an answer he’s dreamed of hearing a thousand different times. The distant sound of midnight church bells breaks the silence, and there in the first, fresh moments of a new Christmas morning, you find your voice.

“Yes.”

*****

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @4theluvofall @eve1978 @stentorian-lore-n @psingh97 @justreadingfics @ihavemymomentsstill @badassbaker @lovelynemesis @palaiasaurus64 @mrshopkirk @whiskeyandwashitape @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

[mustdang-100]

Care-Taking

Reigen gets sick when his boyfriend's out of town. This is nothing but indulgent Dadgen & Teru sickfic fluff.

For @the-elf-draws​ inspired by their Mobtober #11.

Edit: Ah forgot to add, Teruki w/ hair ornaments is taken from @auro-cyanide‘s most excellent headcanon. 

Also on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12937155

Reigen’s head landed on his desk with a soft thud.

The contact reverberated through his skull, sending new throbs of pain to join the existing headache. Still, the press of the cool desk surface against his overheated forehead was worth it. He closed his eyes and released a deep sigh at the mild relief. The sound turned into a groan as it emerged, chafing his sore and scratchy throat.

Fine, he thought to the part of himself that had been softly chastising him all day. The part that spoke with a voice eerily reminiscent of Katsuya’s. Fine, you’re right.

I’m sick.

He was just lucky that his boyfriend was out of town this week, off visiting his mother. Reigen would never hear the end of Serizawa’s soft reproach if he knew Reigen had gone to work despite feeling off that morning. Reigen had waved off the tickle in his throat, telling himself it was just allergies. That conviction had faded through the day as his coughing fits grew more frequent. When he reached for a paper towel to wipe the beading sweat from his forehead and found the roll hard to grasp due to his wracking shivers, he began to think working that day was maybe not one of his brightest ideas.

He should go home. Yet the mere thought of the journey filled him with exhaustion; his apartment seemed so far when every movement he made sent nauseating aches shooting down his limbs. And he would be just as alone at home as he was here, anyways…

A surge of wistfulness washed through him for Katsuya’s warm, comforting presence; cuddling with him on the couch at his place, or working on his laptop, feet propped in Reigen’s lap while the TV blared with one of Reigen’s favorite movies. But Katsuya wouldn’t be back for another few days, and as much as Reigen missed him, he didn’t want to bother him and spoil his first trip to see his family in almost a year.

Reigen let out another dry cough, feeling very sorry for himself. He was sick though, and also alone, so he decided that was allowed.

Honestly, he could probably rest just as well here at the office as at home. He would flip the open sign to closed, then move over to the couch, and just lie there until he felt up to making the trip. He just had to get up from his chair. Any… any second now…

Reigen ponderously turned his head to the side so that one flushed cheek rested on the desk. Locks of his fringe flopped limply against his face, the hair stuck together with sweat into wet tendrils. It hung there, cold and clammy against his forehead.

It itched.

It poked him in the corner of one closed eye, which twitched erratically in reaction.  

And suddenly, the irritation of that was more than he could take. On top of the throbbing in his head with every heartbeat, and the abrasion of his throat with every breath, and the ache in his joints with every movement, that nuisance was just too much. And the hair was something he could control, right here and now.

The hair was the enemy.

The hair had to go.

Eyes still closed, Reigen flopped a hand into the desk drawer where he was pretty sure the scissors lived. His fingers scrabbled blindly through a jumbled snarl of office supplies: paper clips, a stapler, pens, pencils… huh?

He touched a small object that his fever-riddled brain could not identify. Reigen pulled the odd contraption up close to his face and blinked at it blearily.

It was hot pink in color, composed of two hard plastic spheres connected by pink elastic bands. Reigen stared at it in confusion for longer than he’d like to admit before he realized it was a child's hair band, left in the office months ago by a client’s young toddler and thrown haphazardly into a drawer in case the client returned for it.

Reigen considered the contraption for a moment.

A moment more.

Hmm… yeah. This could work.

Reigen sat up, momentarily energized by his own genius. Using a hair band to hold back his hair; clearly, innovations of this caliber could only be devised by the great Reigen Arataka, the 21 st Century’s Greatest Thinker.

He twisted his fringe up into a small tail that stuck straight up from his forehead, like a tiny spout. He wrapped the elastic band around it tightly and released it with a snap of satisfaction. Then he returned his head to the desk, now irritation-free.

He sighed in relief, feeling accomplished if a little addled, and nestled awkwardly into his office chair. He should really get up, go to the couch. But the desk surface was cool. Nice, and cool. So nice. Mmm.

He rolled his head over, exposing the other side of his face to the soothing surface.

And found one Hanazawa Teruki peering at him with bemused interest.

Reigen blinked at the vibrant apparition before him.

Teruki’s lips switched, as though fighting a smile. He’d clearly come straight from school; his bag was hoisted jauntily over one primly uniform-clad shoulder. In rebellious contrast to his outfit his hair sparkled with hair ornaments, adding a riot of bright color that clashed horribly with the yellow and navy high-school uniform.

Reigen blinked again, still confused.

“Whaaaaa- Teruki, how… I mean, hi, you’re doing here, what’re?”

Teruki’s face lost its humor, a flicker of worry appearing for the briefest instant before he steeled his expression into something more neutral.  

“Is it inconven… would you rather I not… I mean, I know I haven’t been by the office as often lately, but I thought… since Serizawa-san is out of town, and Kageyama-kun is busy with his athletic club, that you might need some extra help this week…”

Reigen stared at him, mind chugging slowly into gear as he realized his mistake – he really must be sick to be surprised to see Teruki here; the kid visited often enough. But in trying to backpedal, his usually agile tongue tripped and stumbled.

“No s’fine! Y’re welcome t’ be here! And ‘m fine, jus fine, but if y’ wanna help, thas fine, thas good, but ‘m fiiiiine.”

Teruki relaxed, raising a brow as he tossed his bag absently to the floor. He scrutinized Reigen, hands on hips.

“Reigen-san, as… admirable as I find your new hairstyle, judging by your rather less-than-eloquent speech, I believe the change may be an indication that you are not entirely fine.”

Reigen reached up to feel the fountain of hair spouting up from his forehead, which he’d already forgotten about.

“It wass’ot. Too sweaty. Needed it to go ‘way.”

Reigen could hear himself slurring, but Teruki seemed to get it anyway. He nodded understandingly, then calmly pressed the inside of his wrist to Reigen’s forehead. His lips pursed in disapproval.

“Yep. Reigen-san, you have a fever. You’re in no state to be here; you need to go home and rest-“

Teruki broke off with a start. Reigen looked up to see him staring at his hair – or more specifically, the hair band – with something like horror.

“Reigen-san, you can’t use that cheap thing! It’ll rip up your hair!”

Reigen had never heard him sound so dismayed – Teruki had tortured a man with far less consternation than he was showing now. Reigen thought about pointing this out, but decided perhaps now was not the time.

Teruki carefully unwound the elastic band from Reigen’s hair, tossing it into the trash with disgust. Reigen tried to protest, pawing weakly at his head, but Teruki slapped his hands away.

“Just hold on, I’ll fix you up.”

Teruki pulled two glittery barrettes from his own hair, one magenta, one lime-green. He gathered Reigen’s bangs and pulled them gently back, then carefully slid a barrette into place on either side of Reigen’s head. He stood back, tilting his head to the side as he studied his work, then nodded in satisfaction.

As soon as his head was released, Reigen let it slump back to the desk; he’d started to feel dizzy. Teruki patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“That’s right, you lay down. Give me just a moment.”

One hand still patting Reigen, he pulled a phone from his pocket with the other and hit a button for speed dial.  Reigen heard only bits of the following conversation, drifting in and out of something approaching sleep, until the deep voice on the other end suddenly boomed loud enough for him to hear.

“What do you mean he looks great, you just said he can barely sit up!?”

“I said his hair looks great. The rest of him looks awful.”

“What!?” Almost a screech. Reigen gave a goofy grin; he’d never heard Katsuya’s voice reach quite that frequency before. He could practically see him clutching at his thick curly hair in agitation. Aww.

“Tell ‘im I’m fine, ” Reigen slurred in Teruki’s direction. “And to leave ‘is hair alone, I like it. Iss cute.”

Teruki ignored him.

“Don’t worry Serizawa-san,” he said, his placating voice thrumming with confidence. “I’ll get him home. I can stay with him until you get back, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid and his fever doesn’t get any worse. I’ll crash on the couch or something; you enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

“No, no…” the voice on the other end of the phone said, still sounding harried. “I’m coming back tonight. But, but thanks, I’d appreciate you sticking close. He’s not very good at taking care of himself…”

Reigen wanted to protest this, but found he really didn’t quite have the energy.

Reigen missed the end of their conversation, too focused on trying to determine whether he was drooling on his desk. But he knew it must have ended when he felt Teruki worm his way under one arm, pulling him up with a small grunt of exertion.

“Not very good at taking care of yourself, huh. That’s ok Reigen-san,”

A soft hum surrounded Reigen; he recognized the familiar lightness of psychic power supporting his weight. Yet Teruki didn’t move from under his arm, remaining a small warm presence that spoke of caring, and of support, and of something like family.

“-we’ll just have to take care of you for you.”

[nerdynumme-rp]

Day 15- “Here’s my mittens, you’re freezing” || RoseDawson- Slice of Life

Rosanna and Shane had spent most of the day collecting lights, ornaments, santas and reindeers, dreidels and menorahs, and other various holiday things to decorate the inside and outside of Alpha. The Gingerbread decorations were in high gear this year, they were Rosanna’s favorite, surprise surprise. But it being her first Christmas as president, it was time to represent, show it up, and have some fun. Time ticked by and fast, soon the sun had set and they were still at it, this time outside. A ladder was pressed to the wall now, Shane, the taller of the two, stood on the tippy top, stringing icicle lights over the head of the house, really selling that festive feel. Ro held onto the ladder, and tightly, the winds picking up outside, frigid and nastier by the minute. “Jesus H. Christ!” Shane said holding onto the wall for a minute as another gush brushed through them. “I feel.... attacked.” he claimed, putting in another tack before finally stepping down. “I need a minute.” he explained, huddling into himself. Ro let go now, clasping her hands to her mouth and blowing into them. Her mittens a god sent considering how the temperature seemed to be dropping by the minute. “It’s looking SO good.” she exclaimed, now looking up at the house, ignoring the spot Shane still had to get too. “Like a real Gingerbread house, I could eat it up!” she giggled, and looked over to the boy. Shane did not respond, still holding himself firm and close, hunching for warmth. Ro frowned, he wasn’t particularly dressed warm, and he had been doing the hardest of the work now. He was up in the rafters, the winds catching him more fierce then down where she stood. “Here...” she said, removing her mittens. “Here’s my mittens, you’re freezing” she offered, handing them to him gently. “No. Nah. Nope.” Shane refused, tucking his arms under his armpits now. “Shane, I will throw them at you.” “Do it, I dare you.” So she did, right in the face. “Oh geeze! I didn’t really you sugar came with a little spice!” he teased, actually wide eyed in shock that she followed through with his dare. “Wear. the. mittens. Darnit!” she said very seriously. “OH WOW! OKAY POTTY MOUTH! GEEZE LOUISE!” he teased, bending down now and stuffing his hands into them, thankfully despite Ro being tiny they were a normal size for normal people, not tiny tinys, though that’s probably why she liked them-they swallowed her hands. Shane stepped back now, going close to her, her warmth radiating from her, it was nice.  “It really does look pretty.” he hummed, finally able to appreciate all of the hard work he specifically was dishing out. “Like icing!” Ro beamed “Like icing.” Shane smiled, eyes going a bit starry.

[bdo-esme-meles]

The Friendly Face

Winter was cooling the region of Balenos as sea winds brought with it the chill of ice in the air, overcasting the port town of Velia with thick clusters of dark clouds, threatening rain and perhaps even snow. Even so, the holiday spirit was in the air as the great Cron tree was set up and decorated, festive finery livening up the town from wreaths to ribbons, garlands to ornaments. A young Maehwa moved through the folk of the port town, bustling about their daily business, an arm resting casually on the hilt of her katana strapped to her waist, golden eyes taking in the scenery as she wandered aimlessly.

Her eyes would fall upon a man exiting a house, one he had just purchased in the interest of bringing trade to Velia. Red of hair, and pale of skin that has been warmed by the sun and freckled by it as well, the man turns. He offers a view of a neatly trimmed fiery beard, and almost a topknot of hair shaven on the sides of his head, long on top and tied back. A near-smile graces his face, a pleasant-looking fellow. A young man, possibly in his 20s or close to it. His armor is well-made and well-used, polished, yet with plenty of dents and dings, signs of repair and welding to fix it. He is s smith by trade, as is his father, as that is their House business. There is a horse stabled in front of the humble domicile, which the man walks over to. A strapping stallion, perhaps bred for war. The man gently pats it, giving it some tlc and half of an apple. He then walks on his way into the crowd, offering waves and smiles to all who greet him or look his way.

She caught sight of the individual as she made her way down the main road into the town, the rumble of wagons passing by and horses splashing through the muddy puddles joining the chorus of ocean waves and the shrill cry of sea birds winging over head, the air humming with the chatter of the port folk. It was a new scene for her, Velia. It was her first time in the area. As such, she was unaccustomed to the chaos that often ruled the streets and it was do to that inexperience that she fell victim to it. Not paying attention, she soon found herself bumped rather rudely by a horse being driven much too quickly by its rider and staggered back, losing her footing in the thick mud churned up by hooves and wagon wheels and landed in a puddle with a squelch and a yelp, now wet and filthy.

Toman rushes to her aid, tsking at the errant rider. "Slow down!" He calls after them, as he hurries over, the clank of armor sounding dully in the busy air as he reaches down to offer her an arm up. It is not coddling, he does not treat her like a damsel, but as a woman and a warrior. Having seen her katana, and knowing only the most competent of warriors living by a solemn code tend to wield them. She does not look like a bandit after all. 

"Well you look a bit dirty, but unharmed I hope?" He offers her a disarming pearly smile, eyes crinkling slightly with his joyful demeanor.

Embarrassed but otherwise intact, she blinked up at the man that came to her aid, using the back of her hand to wipe a spattering of mud from her cheek whilst accepting his offered arm with the other to stand. Her well maintained and polished armor, a trademark of her calling, was caked with muck and left her looking rather disheveled indeed. Despite her misfortune, she merely sighed calmly and attempted to wipe away some of the mud now clinging to her legs, remarking casually as she did so, "Just my dignity, good sir." 

 She looked up to meet his gaze, at last, taking in his features as he was rather handsome indeed but more so, his eyes held a genuine kindness in them that was hard to find. She bowed to him politely, bending at the waist as she thanked him for his help."You are very kind, thank you for your help." 

She was a shorter young woman, certainly more so than the young lasses that inhabited the port town of Velia or even Balenos for that matter, her short hair a dark chocolate hue of brown and golden eyes like polished coin meeting and holding his stare. Her complexion was naturally bronzed, kissed by the sun, and she carried her self with grace and confidence.

He nods in understanding of the slight to one's dignity let alone good quality armor. "I hope this does not sound to forward of me, but my home is just down the street. There is a washbasin, and even a bath if you would like. Do not worry, there are two rooms with a lockable door, the bath is in the bedroom. It's a simple home, one I just bought and furnished, but should you desire yourself clean and warm, I offer it." 

He bows back to her, knowing it is customary to do so in respect, dipping almost as low as she, trying his best anyway! Hazel eyes, a burst of gold around black pupils that is surrounded by forest green strands that look like trees blossoming out from the gold greet her chocolate gaze. Warmth and confidence are held within. "I am Toman Krown. Knight, smith, and new homeowner." He says with a slight chuckle.

She considered him a moment, reading his face and posture before nodding at length. "Well met, Sir Krown. I appreciate and gratefully accept your generous offer. The sooner my gear is cleaned, the better. Filthy armor never served anyone well." 

She offered him a small nod, indicating for him to lead the way and fell into step beside him, her gaze now more vigilant of her surroundings. "Is it always so... hectic here?" she implored as they avoided more wagons on their way towards the little building situated just off the main road that served as Toman's abode. "It seems so pointless to be in such a constant rush all the time. I can not imagine living in such a bustling place."  

She paused as they reached his door and turned to him once more, looking a bit sheepish, "Forgive my poor manners. My name is Esme. Once again, thank you for the kindness you have shown me today."

He chuckles as he walks the short distance beside her, giving her a grin and a shrug before looking back to the crowd. "Truth be told? I just arrived a few days ago. I had been here once before, and it was less crowded. But this place is a failed port, it could have been a city if the money hadn't dried up for a proper dock. It still serves as a hub for all the surrounding farmland though." 

Once reaching the modest home, he gives his horse a pat, sitting in a makeshift single stall stable. It's mostly just shoulder-height walls, and a roof to cover from the rain. 

"Meet Bastion." He says with a smile, then leads her to the door. He unlocks it and steps in first, allowing her the ease of being able to see his home and decide herself whether or not to step in. He wasn't lying, there is a rug for their boots, a table and chairs, bookshelf, cabinet, and then the bedroom beyond.

She gave a small smile to the steed standing by in his stall before following Toman into his home, looking around casually. It was modest but comfortable and she took comfort in the absence of the more extravagant things. At least she wouldn't have to stress about getting such shiny baubles dirty. "Your home seems quite comfortable," she remarked. 

 She passed one more glance around before letting her gaze settle back upon her host, "Washroom?" It would be rude to just march right on into his bedroom so she politely waited for his direction. And perhaps a towel she could borrow as she unshouldered a small pack from her back, which looked as though it had certainly seen better days.

He hums, thanking her genuinely. "Not bad for a couple of days, right?" He points towards a basin on a table by the door to the bedroom as he pulls off cloak, glove, and some of his armor to rest it upon a t-shaped rack inside his room. It is adorned with only a bed, bathtub, dresser, armor stand and a chest of his personal effects. 

"You can wash your clothes there, and I will bring the pot in from the hearth and you'll have a warm bath to ward off the cold water and mud. I would offer to wash your back, but again, wouldn't want to be too forward." He says that with a wink, going about preparing the room for her. He's a bachelor male, he doesn't think much about privacy in a two-room home. 

"You can just leave your cloak on the rack for now, and your boots on the doormat. Oh, there's a fresh towel hanging on the side of the tub."

She lets slip another small grateful sigh and slips her boots off, followed by her cloak which hung heavy with puddle water. She then moved towards the room with her bag in tow. She sat her pack aside and began loosening the ties that tethered her armor in place, her sash and katana coming to rest beside her perch where she sat. Once the bulky scale mail was removed she set it aside, clad in leathers that did little to hide the natural sultry curve of her fit figure. Digging in her pack, she withdrew a car kit for her armor and began cleaning it, holding off on her own grooming for the moment, brow furrowed with concentration as she worked to get the mud out of the plating.

Toman, of course, offers to help her undo the armor, knowing how time-consuming it can be to don and doff it alone. Whether or not she agreed, he set about gathering an empty basin for the refuse, and wrung her cloak out carefully into it. Without asking, he has come to help her care for her gear, invited her into his home, offered her a bath and solace from the weather. Going about it as if it were the expected thing to do. He offers her smiles and nods, asking her about where she came from, what brought her here, and so on.

Winter was cooling the region of Balenos as sea winds brought with it the chill of ice in the air, overcasting the port town of Velia with thick clusters of dark clouds, threatening rain and perhaps even snow. Even so, the holiday spirit was in the air as the great Cron tree...

Pausing for a moment as she considered their sudden conundrum, she steps back from the door so he could enter, hastily grabbing a towel to wrap about herself for modesty's sake. Once he moved into the room to pour the pot's contents into the tub, letting the hot water mix with cold to create a pleasantly warm bath for his guest, she watched him awkwardly, her shapely legs exposed as a foot rose to sheepishly rub along the back of her other calf, her cheeks slightly rosy but her gaze ever-watchful upon him. She had such tiny, cute little feet!

The man tries his damndest to inspect the floorboards for any clods or flakes of mud to clean up later as she wraps a towel about herself. His cheeks color ever so slightly, his mind wandering just briefly to what the warrior might look like under the armor. Curve and tone, muscle and femininity. It is a weakness of his, that. His eyes wander to her feet, so dainty for a fighter! Forcing his gaze not to rise he stammers as the water is poured. It is a miracle he does not spill it onto the floor! He has freshly tiled that part of it, building a slight threshold of a single layer of brick and tile to keep any water from spilling onto the worn wood. "Your pardon Esme." 

With that he bumps his shoulder accidentally on the door jamb on the way out, his eyes still downcast so as not to stare at her. "Ow. Damned walls always getting in the way..." His joke is half muttered, an attempt to distract from his flushed cheeks and nervous manner. They have just met, after all, it wouldn't do to see her unclothed even with a towel. Even if his mind tries to dwell on such things in the moment of curiosity and appreciation for all things beautiful.

Despite herself, Esme felt herself crack a small smile, brows knitting lightly as he bumped into the door on his way out, attempting to hide it behind the back of her hand. It was a relief that he held true to his honor- and hers- despite the temptation of catching a peek at her. She appreciated it more than he knew. With the door closing behind him, she moved to the tub and checked the water, slipping in once she was satisfied with the temperature. She let slip a soft sigh, feeling the chill from the dampness and mud ease away, her hands using water to rid her skin of the filth from the road and puddles. 

 She didn't spend long in the bath, doing what needed to be done to clean and refresh herself anew and wasting no time in stepping out to drain the dirtied and clouded water, her short hair dripping. She retrieved her towel, not wishing to waste it and seeing that it wasn't dirtied from before, she lightly tussled her hair and dried her body. Once done, she padded over to her pack and pulled clean garments from it, slipping on fresh undergarments and a plain mauve-colored cotton kimono, tethered with an orange cord rather than an obi. Dressed, she exited the washroom, dabbing at her hair a bit more with her towel to avoid the damp strands dripping. All in all, it took her less than ten minutes to clean up.

Meanwhile, the man had sat down, working hard at cleaning her soiled clothes. She might have heard him sloughing the clothes across the wooden washboard to clean them. In ten minutes time, her clothes were hanging up to dry over a line spread up above the mantle, relying on the heat rising from the fireplace to dry them a bit quicker. Looking back over his shoulder as the door opens he quickly calls out, "Are you Dec-oh my... you look... that is a lovely... wow." 

Seems like he has forgotten how to speak momentarily. "Uhhhhh." Slack-jawed and staring with his sleeves rolled up and arms extended up onto the short clothing line.

Esme looked up to Toman's lack of coherent thought, her expression curious as she lowered the towel in her hands, walking over to join him. "Sir Krown... are you alright?" 

She raised n imploring brow, unsure as to why he was suddenly so out of sorts. It was obvious she was the sort of woman who was unaware of her natural beauty and probably never even thought twice about her looks in general so long as she was presentable. Golden hazel eyes regarded him as he stared back at her, her expression seeking reassurance that he was well.

He stammers for a moment longer, trying to find the words to express the simple exquisite beauty he found in that moment. "I just... yeah. Yes. I'm alright. You look stunning is all. Of course, anything would be a sight better than covered in mucky armor." 

He attempts a chuckle of good humor, trying to take his mind off his sudden embarrassment of not being able to talk. He fully focuses on finishing cleaning up, washing any errant mud from his arms, then rolls his sleeves down, standing to hang the washcloth on the line as well. Turning to hide the slight red in his cheeks.

Esme felt a small sheepish tug at the corner of her lips, a hint of color touching her cheeks at the unexpected compliment. She dipped her chin slightly in a gracious manner, "Oh... um... thank you...." 

Her words were a bit sheepish sounding, clearly awkward and not knowing what to say to his appraisal but she accepted it for what it was, placing her towel someplace where it could dry before seating herself to give her now clean armor a second once over for good measure. "And once again, thank you for your aid. You have been the kindest person I have encountered in Velia thus far. I must find some way to repay you."

Toman gathers his courage, the young man still finding himself through craft, honing himself through the arts of war and principles of chivalry and honor. As he turns, his voice is a bit more firm, a clear rasp of the file across the properly tempered steel of his newfound resolve instead of the soft and yielding scrape of soft metal mumbled and meek. His hazel eyes carry more weight behind their gaze, more confidence. "It is my pleasure to serve and aid one such as you Esme. Thank you for falling into my lap, figuratively speaking." 

A hint of wry and assured smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, slanting it upward slightly. Kindness is a banner to build a kingdom of wealth and friendship upon." In that poetic moment should a sudden peal of trumpets have sounded the man might look a King. 

"Your grace has been sullied by the streets of this town and the impatience of a rider I would assume to not even be from here. A warrior's pride has been salvaged, and a woman's grace and beauty have been extolled. I would call that a good day. The only payment I would ask is a repeat of your company someday in the not so distant future. Perhaps some work for my forge to further honor a warrioress." Toman bows deeply, borne of humility and service, of community and compassion.

Esme stared at him for a long moment, surprise on her face as she blinked a few time, long thick lashes fluttering before a quiet laugh bubbled forth. To say he caught her off guard was an understatement but she took it in stride, finding him charming in his own way. 

"You are a strange one but I like you. Not many make me laugh the way you do." She smiled at him, a growing fondness creeping into her amber gaze. "Perhaps I'll take you up on your offer to utilize your craft with the forge."

Her words make the man hum and he smiles pearly as he nods to her. "It was a pleasure meeting you indeed. I am sure you have somewhere to be, but at least now you can go on your way clean and proud." He says with a slight chuckle, the mention of the forge just making him smile all the wider. "I would be honored to test my skill with any projects you might have. Blades like yours take a long time to perfect."

Esme felt a bubble of pride blossom in her chest and she cast her gaze fondly upon her weapon, "That they do. My most prized possession... it holds a great deal of meaning for me." She looked back to her newfound friend, carefully considering his kind features. "Actually... I would like to ask you something, if I may?" Her hands settled comfortably at her sides as she faced him, her visage expectant.

The man continues to smile, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen down from the top of his head back into place. He was about to turn to leave but pauses a millisecond into doing so, and his hazels orbs latch onto hers, veiled by her lashes as they are. "Yes, Esme? Of course, you may, you always may." He responds in a gentle and warm tone, his time with her having kept his mood bright and warm all evening. Enough to make him wax poetic as he just did. His body turns to hers fully, all of his attention given her at that moment.

With a gracious dip of her head, she nodded, "Have you heard of a wandering dancer performing in the area? I have been attempting to track her down but she never stays in one place long. Goes by the name Vereena? Beautiful beyond all reason?" The intensity in Esme's imploring stare showed she wasn't joking and certainly keen on finding the person mentioned.

Toman pauses to think as he stands there outside his home talking to this wonderful happenstance of a woman fallen into his lap. Thinking back, he slowly shakes his head. "Mmm. No. You are the most beautiful woman I have seen in my time here, and your beauty has reason." He says with a grin, playing with the words of her question. Ever the curious one, he asks. 

"Why are you looking for her?"

She hadn't seemed to have expected such a response and blushed, blinking back at him before quickly clearing her throat to mask her awkwardness, "O-oh, hmm...ahem Yes... well... if you do, please let me know. We have... unfinished business." She frowned, the intensity in her gaze lessening some after being so thrown off but some of it still lingered.

Toman sets himself in a more rigid stance, bowing deeply to the woman with much cultural significance of respect. "I shall. Walk easy Esme. Where shall I find you if I have information regarding Vereena or on crafting you a weapon?"

She paused to consider it, thinking for a moment before her gaze met his again, "Heidel. There is a house near the western gate that leads towards Altinova, house number seven-five. You can leave any correspondence for me there." She allowed a hint of a smile to tug at her lips, dipping to return the bow. 

"Thank you for all your help. I hope we see one another again soon."

Giving the woman a final bow, and wishing her well, Toman goes along with his day, watching her leave until he can see her no more.