#i'm not sure if it really counts as a holiday song but a version of it is on one of my favorite seasonal albums

[swasdoodles]

When true simplicity is gained, To bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed, To turn, turn will be our delight, Till by turning we come 'round right.

Happy Holidays!

[amethystarachnid]

CLINGING TO CHRISTMAS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Request: Please, "Time Together" with Tony/f!reader, because it's my dream to share a quality time with him! Spend some time in bed in the morning, cook breakfast together, watch movies cuddling on the couch, eat some snacks, visit a coffee shop in the afternoon, walk on the streets admiring the Christmas decorations and of course buy some decorations for their house 💖 you can add all the fluff you want, love! Thank you! 💖 (@little-angel-oc)

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.2k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing pure fluff

ᯓ★ Sorry if I'm not posting much, I didn't expect this period of the year to make me so busy :(

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The morning light filters into the penthouse through curtains half-drawn, painting soft, golden streaks across the room. The December chill whispers against the glass, but none of it reaches you. Wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and luxury, you stretch lazily, your toes brushing against the silk sheets and your back pressing into the solid warmth behind you.

Tony Stark, self-proclaimed genius billionaire and undoubtedly the clingiest man alive, has you locked in his arms. His chest rises and falls against your back, his nose buried somewhere near the curve of your neck. It’s a miracle you can breathe at all with how tightly he’s holding you, as though the world might steal you away the second he lets go.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly from sleep but tinged with an unmistakable softness. He doesn’t lift his head, just tightens his hold and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Actually, scratch that. Let’s stay in bed and make it an all-day kind of morning.”

You laugh softly, your breath visible in the cool air of the room. "We both know you can’t stay still for that long."

Tony’s lips curve into a smile against your skin. “Challenge accepted. If you try to move, I’ll just make a counter-play and pull you back.” His hand, warm and strong, splays across your stomach as he shifts to kiss the side of your jaw. “How am I supposed to work when this—” he gestures vaguely, as if encompassing you, the bed, and the whole moment—“exists?”

“You’ll survive,” you tease, but you don’t make any move to escape his embrace.

It’s rare to see him so utterly unguarded, his usual whirlwind of energy and rapid-fire wit replaced by this tender, sleepy version of himself. You suppose that’s what the holidays do to him—or maybe it’s just what you do to him.

The penthouse feels different this time of year. Warmer. Cozier. The massive space, which you used to think was too cold and impersonal when you first moved in, has been transformed by the simplest of touches. A Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner of the living room, its branches adorned with lights and ornaments you picked out together last week. Tony had grumbled through most of it, claiming he could’ve just hired someone to do the decorating, but the way his face lit up when you found the perfect star for the top told you he didn’t regret a second of it.

“You know,” he says, his voice interrupting your thoughts, “I don’t think I’ve ever really done Christmas right. Not like this.”

“Not like what?”

“This.” He props himself up on one elbow, his dark eyes meeting yours. “With you. The tree. The... not-hiring-a-company part. It’s new, and I like it.” He leans down, his nose brushing yours. “But you’ve ruined me, you know that? Stark Industries is going to fall apart because I can’t focus on anything except this face.”

You roll your eyes, though your cheeks flush at his compliment. “I’m sure Pepper would argue that you’ve been distracted long before I came along.”

“True. But now it’s your fault, so congrats.” He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, and you melt into him, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his already-messy hair. The taste of coffee lingers faintly on his lips, even though he hasn’t left the bed yet—an early morning habit, courtesy of the automated coffee machine he designed to deliver a steaming cup to his bedside at 7:00 AM sharp.

When you finally break apart, he rests his forehead against yours, his grin boyish and carefree. “So, what’s the plan today? More holiday cheer? Gingerbread houses? Are we making a wreath? Stringing popcorn on a garland?”

“None of those things, because you don’t have the patience for them,” you tease, laughing when he huffs in mock offense.

“I’ll have you know, I’m an incredibly patient man when it comes to—” He pauses, as if searching for the right word. “Actually, never mind. You’re right. But I’ll be an excellent assistant. You’re the boss of Christmas around here.”

You sit up slightly, the sheets pooling around your waist, and raise an eyebrow. “That’s a dangerous thing to say. I could put you to work.”

Tony smirks, his hands trailing down to your waist. “Put me to work. I dare you. I’m excellent at manual labor. By which I mean supervising while you do all the hard stuff.”

“Exactly what I thought,” you reply, poking him in the chest. “Lazy.”

He grabs your hand before you can pull it back, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “Not lazy. Just very efficient at conserving energy for important tasks—like keeping you warm.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” You laugh as he pulls you back down into his arms, burying his face in your neck again. The scratch of his stubble makes you squirm, but you don’t mind.

Outside, the snow begins to fall in lazy flurries, dusting the balcony and the tops of skyscrapers. Inside, the world feels smaller, quieter, and infinitely more perfect. Wrapped in Tony’s arms, the chaos of the world seems a million miles away, and for once, neither of you is in any rush to bring it back.

“Alright, Mr. Efficient,” you murmur, breaking the comfortable silence as Tony’s thumb lazily traces patterns on your hip. “Time to get up.”

He groans dramatically, tightening his arms around you like a human bear trap. “Nope. Hard pass. The bed is warm, you’re here, and there’s no world-ending emergency—why would I leave this paradise?”

“Because you need to eat,” you counter, trying to wiggle free. “And I’m starving.”

“I have protein bars for that,” he says, burying his face further into your neck. “Energy-efficient, calorie-packed, no mess.”

“Tony,” you scold, though you’re laughing. “That’s not breakfast.”

“It can be if you eat it in the morning,” he retorts, smug as ever, and you can feel his grin against your skin.

You twist around to face him, your hands braced against his chest. “What if I promise pancakes? You love pancakes.”

Tony’s eyes crack open, a flicker of interest sparking to life. “You’re not wrong. Pancakes are a pretty compelling argument.”

“And we can make them together,” you add, your voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “It’ll be fun.”

He narrows his eyes at you like you’ve just proposed an evil plot. “Fun, or me getting roped into some sort of ‘domestic bonding experience’ that ends with me covered in flour and you laughing at me?”

“Both,” you admit shamelessly. “But there will be pancakes.”

Tony sighs like a martyr but sits up, the sheets falling from his shoulders. “Fine. But if I’m going to embarrass myself, I reserve the right to wear the apron. The manly apron.”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “The one that says ‘Genius at Work’?”

“It’s the only acceptable choice,” he declares, climbing out of bed with a dramatic stretch before extending a hand to you. “Let’s go make the kitchen regret its existence.”

The kitchen, with its sleek, state-of-the-art design, looks more like a high-tech laboratory than a place where anyone actually cooks. You rummage through the cabinets, pulling out ingredients, while Tony stands by the island, watching you with an amused expression.

“You’re really going to make me do this, huh?” he asks, leaning on the counter.

“It’s just pancakes, Tony. Flour, eggs, milk—basic stuff. Even you can’t mess this up.”

“First of all, rude,” he says, pretending to be offended. “Second, I don’t see you factoring in my wild card genius. You might end up with... I don’t know, a soufflé by accident.”

“Pretty sure pancakes aren’t supposed to turn into soufflés,” you reply, laughing as you hand him a mixing bowl.

Tony takes it with exaggerated caution, as though it might explode. “Alright, boss. Tell me what to do.”

You start instructing him step by step, trying to keep it as simple as possible. Crack the eggs. Add the flour. Measure the milk. It seems to go well at first—until Tony decides to get creative.

“Shouldn’t we add something extra?” he asks, glancing at the spice rack. “Cinnamon? Nutmeg? A splash of whiskey?”

“Whiskey? It’s eight in the morning,” you say, snatching the bottle out of his hand before he can pour it into the batter.

“Never too early for innovation,” he argues, grinning as he sets the whiskey down. “Alright, no booze. But we’re definitely adding chocolate chips.”

You roll your eyes but let him sprinkle a handful of chocolate chips into the batter, which he does with far too much enthusiasm. His “help” becomes increasingly questionable as you move to mix everything together, his hands finding more excuses to end up on your waist, your shoulders, or brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Tony,” you warn as his arms snake around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. “If you don’t let me stir this, you’re not getting pancakes.”

“But you’re doing so well without me,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “I’m supervising.”

“Your supervision is going to make me spill this everywhere,” you say, laughing as you try to keep the bowl steady.

“I’d argue that’s part of the fun,” he counters, but he relents, stepping back just enough to let you finish mixing.

When it’s finally time to cook, you heat the griddle and ladle the batter onto it, the sizzle filling the air. Tony insists on flipping the pancakes, despite your skepticism.

“Just watch,” he says confidently, spatula in hand. “I’ve seen a hundred YouTube videos on this. I’ve got the wrist action down.”

You cross your arms, watching as he slides the spatula under a pancake and attempts to flip it with a flourish. The pancake arcs through the air—almost gracefully—before landing halfway on the griddle and halfway on the counter.

Tony stares at it for a moment, then turns to you with an unapologetic grin. “See? Perfect.”

“Perfectly disastrous,” you correct, grabbing a paper towel to clean up the mess. “Let me handle the flipping.”

“Fine,” he says, stepping back. “But only because I don’t want to overshadow your skills.”

By the time you’ve finished, the kitchen looks like a flour bomb exploded. There’s batter smudged on the counter, chocolate chips scattered across the floor, and Tony has somehow managed to get a streak of flour across his cheek.

“You’re a menace,” you say, laughing as you reach up to wipe the flour from his face.

“I’m adorable,” he counters, catching your wrist and pulling you closer. “And you love me.”

You roll your eyes but don’t deny it, especially when he leans in to kiss you. His lips taste faintly of chocolate, and his stubble tickles your skin. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you forget the mess, the pancakes, and everything else except the two of you.

When you finally pull away, you’re both grinning like idiots.

“Alright,” you say, clearing your throat. “Let’s see if we actually made something edible.”

The pancakes are far from perfect—slightly misshapen and a little unevenly cooked—but they taste good enough, especially with a generous drizzle of syrup. You sit together at the island, plates in hand, as snow falls softly outside the windows.

Tony nudges you with his elbow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “See? I told you we’d make a good team.”

“You mean I made the pancakes and you got in the way?” you tease.

“Semantics,” he says, taking another bite. “The important thing is, we survived. And the pancakes are edible. Mostly.”

You laugh, shaking your head as he leans over to steal a kiss, syrup and all. It’s messy and chaotic and far from perfect, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because with Tony, even the simplest moments—like making pancakes on a snowy December morning—feel like magic.

“Alright, genius,” you say, stacking the plates in the sink and turning to face Tony, who’s leaning casually against the counter, his coffee mug in one hand. “Breakfast mission accomplished. What’s next?”

He sets the mug down with exaggerated importance, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “My turn to pick. Pancakes were your idea; now I get to call the shots.”

You raise an eyebrow, already suspicious. “That’s fair. But if you’re about to suggest working in the lab or something involving an explosion—”

“Relax,” he interrupts, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “No gadgets. No explosions. Just a simple, low-tech activity that even you’ll approve of.”

You cross your arms, trying not to smile. “I’m listening.”

Tony steps closer, his grin widening. “We’re going to cuddle on the couch and watch one of those absolutely atrocious, cliché Christmas movies that are so bad they’re good.”

“Tony Stark wants to watch a cheesy Christmas movie?” you ask, feigning disbelief. “Who are you, and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

“Hey, I have layers,” he says, pretending to be offended. “Besides, the movies aren’t for me. They’re for you. I’m just the selfless guy who’ll hold you through the ridiculous love triangles, improbable snowstorms, and overacting.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly. Blankets, snacks, and no interruptions.”

Tony salutes you. “Yes, ma’am.”

True to his word, Tony transforms the living room into a cozy oasis. He grabs every blanket he can find, piling them onto the couch with dramatic flair, while you raid the kitchen for snacks. When you return with a bowl of popcorn and a tin of Christmas cookies, Tony is already sprawled out on the couch, patting the spot beside him.

“Get over here,” he says, his tone playfully demanding. “I’m sacrificing my cool reputation for this. You owe me cuddles.”

“Sacrificing your cool reputation?” you tease, settling in beside him. “Pretty sure that went out the window the moment you flipped a pancake onto the counter.”

He narrows his eyes at you but doesn’t argue, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “Pick your poison,” he says, handing you the remote.

You scroll through the seemingly endless options of holiday movies until you find one with a laughably predictable title. “How about Snowed In for Christmas?”

Tony groans theatrically. “Do you try to find the most ridiculous ones, or is it just a gift?”

“You said cheesy,” you remind him, pressing play before he can protest further.

The movie is every bit as absurd as you’d hoped. The plot revolves around a big-city journalist who gets stranded in a small, snow-covered town, where she falls in love with the ruggedly handsome owner of a struggling Christmas tree farm. Every trope in the book is present: the meddling townsfolk, the magical snowstorm, and, of course, the inevitable misunderstanding that threatens to ruin everything right before Christmas Eve.

Tony provides running commentary throughout, his dry humor making you laugh so hard you nearly spill the popcorn.

“Wait, wait,” he says, sitting up slightly. “Did she just quit her high-paying job in New York to stay in the town she’s been in for, what, a week? Who does that? Do people not have bills in these movies?”

“It’s called romance, Tony,” you reply, nudging him with your elbow. “Suspend your disbelief.”

“Fine,” he says, leaning back again. “But I’m just saying, if you ever ditch me for a lumberjack with a secret heart of gold, I’m suing Hallmark for emotional damages.”

“Noted,” you reply, laughing as he pulls you closer, his hand resting on your knee.

By the time the credits roll, you’re both in stitches, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “That was… something,” Tony says, shaking his head. “If my A.I. ever wrote a script like that, I’d have to reprogram it.”

“You loved it,” you counter, snuggling into his side. “Admit it.”

“I loved you laughing at it,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “But the movie? Eh, I’d give it two out of five stars. One of those stars is for the accidental comedy.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can argue, Tony grabs the remote and starts scrolling again. “Alright, my turn. Let’s find another one.”

“Another Christmas movie?” you ask, surprised.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he says, smirking. “I’ve got the spirit now. I’m all in.”

The next movie is somehow even cheesier, involving a magical ornament that grants wishes and an overworked single dad who learns the true meaning of Christmas. Tony is relentless with his commentary, but somewhere around the halfway mark, his snarky remarks grow quieter. His hand strokes lazy circles on your back, and his head tilts until his cheek rests against the top of your head.

“Getting sleepy?” you ask softly.

“Not sleepy,” he mumbles, his voice low and warm. “Just... comfy. You make everything feel... easy.”

Your heart melts a little at his honesty. For all his bravado, Tony has a way of surprising you with these moments of unguarded vulnerability. You turn your head to kiss his jaw, your fingers curling around his.

“Love you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiles, his lips brushing your forehead. “Love you more.”

The movie plays on in the background, but neither of you is paying attention anymore. The world outside the penthouse fades away as you bask in the quiet intimacy of the moment—just you, Tony, and the flickering glow of the Christmas tree lights.

Hours later, when the snow outside has turned the city into a winter wonderland, you wake to find Tony still holding you, his breathing slow and even. The credits of the third movie you didn’t realize you started are rolling, and the room is bathed in a soft, golden glow.

You shift slightly, and Tony stirs, blinking sleepily. “Mmm. Did we win Christmas yet?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep.

“You fell asleep during the movie,” you tease, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

“Only because you’re too comfortable,” he says, pulling you back down into his arms. “Don’t think you’re going anywhere. I’m holding you hostage for the rest of the day.”

You smile, resting your head on his chest and letting the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into contentment. If this is what being held hostage by Tony Stark feels like, you’re more than happy to surrender.

And as the snow continues to fall outside, blanketing the city in quiet magic, you can’t think of a single place you’d rather be.

When you finally stir from your cozy spot on the couch, the afternoon sunlight is already streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The snowy city below looks like a scene straight out of a Christmas card, and the twinkling lights of the decorated streets are just beginning to glow as dusk approaches.

“Alright,” you say, stretching as you stand. “We’ve been lazy long enough. Let’s go out.”

Tony, still sprawled out on the couch like a contented house cat, raises an eyebrow. “Out? In this weather? Have you seen what’s happening out there? There’s snow, Y/N. Cold, wet snow.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “It’s December, Tony. Snow is kind of the whole point. Besides, you owe me.”

“For what?”

“For all the Christmas cheer you’ve been soaking up without lifting a finger,” you tease, pulling on his hand to get him to sit up. “Come on. We’ll stop by that coffee shop you like. They’ve got peppermint mochas.”

His eyes narrow suspiciously, but you can see the faint flicker of temptation. “You’re using coffee as bait.”

“And it’s working,” you counter, grinning as you toss him his coat. “Get dressed, Stark. We’re going.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re walking hand-in-hand through the snowy streets of Manhattan, the air crisp and cold but not unpleasant. True to your promise, you stop at Tony’s favorite coffee shop, where the barista greets him with a starstruck smile and immediately starts preparing his usual order.

“I have to admit,” Tony says as he takes a sip of his peppermint mocha, “this is a solid bribe.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply, your own cup warming your hands as you lead him down the street.

But as you take a turn onto a quieter, festively lit avenue, Tony slows down, his eyes narrowing. “Wait a second. This isn’t the way home.”

“No, it’s not,” you say, your voice innocently cheerful.

He stops in his tracks, glancing up at the string lights crisscrossing above the cobblestone path ahead. The street is lined with rows of wooden stalls, each one festooned with garlands and wreaths. The scent of roasted chestnuts and cinnamon wafts through the air, mingling with the sounds of Christmas carols being played by a nearby quartet.

Tony looks at you, a mix of amusement and betrayal in his expression. “You tricked me.”

“I prefer to think of it as gently guiding you toward holiday spirit,” you say with a grin. “Come on. It’s just a Christmas market. Think of all the overpriced, handmade trinkets we can buy.”

“I’m not carrying bags,” he warns, even as he lets you tug him forward into the bustling market.

Despite his initial protests, Tony doesn’t seem to mind as you wander from stall to stall. The two of you weave through the crowd, pausing occasionally to admire the glittering ornaments, intricately carved wooden figurines, and colorful knitted scarves on display.

Tony keeps a protective hand on your back, steering you gently through the throng of people. Every so often, someone stops to ask for a selfie with him, and he obliges with surprising patience, though not without a few snarky comments.

“See?” you whisper after the third fan walks away, beaming from their encounter. “The Christmas market isn’t so bad, is it?”

Tony gives you a sideways glance, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “It’s tolerable. Mostly because of you.”

You beam at him, squeezing his hand. “I’ll take it.”

As the sky darkens and the market’s lights grow brighter, the atmosphere becomes even more magical. Snowflakes drift lazily from the sky, landing softly on Tony’s dark hair and your scarf. You stop at a stall selling mulled wine, and Tony buys you a steaming cup, his free hand still intertwined with yours.

“This is suspiciously romantic,” he remarks, his voice teasing as you take a sip of the warm, spiced drink.

“Suspiciously?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah,” he says, smirking. “It’s almost like you planned it.”

“Almost?” you tease back. “Tony Stark, are you implying that I orchestrated an entire romantic outing just to make you enjoy Christmas?”

“I’m saying it’s diabolical,” he replies, leaning in to kiss the tip of your cold nose. “And I’m impressed.”

As you continue strolling, you stop in front of a stall selling Christmas decorations. The display is dazzling, filled with glass ornaments, sparkling tinsel, and miniature wreaths. You let go of Tony’s hand to pick up a delicate, hand-painted ornament shaped like a snowflake.

“This one’s pretty,” you say, holding it up to show him.

Tony eyes it, then glances back at you. “We already have a tree. We don’t need more decorations.”

You put the ornament back with a sigh, turning to face him. “Tony, the tree is literally the only festive thing in the entire penthouse. It’s sad. Like, single-guy-who-forgets-it’s-Christmas sad.”

“I was a single guy who forgot it was Christmas,” he points out.

“Exactly!” you exclaim, grabbing his arm. “But you’re not anymore. We live there together now, and I want it to feel like home—not just for me, but for you too.”

Tony hesitates, his expression softening as he watches you. Finally, he sighs in mock defeat. “Alright, you win. But I’m not carrying boxes of decorations.”

“That’s what delivery services are for,” you reply, grinning as you pull him toward the stall.

An hour later, the two of you are laden with bags containing everything from garlands to fairy lights to an assortment of quirky ornaments you couldn’t resist. Tony insists on buying a ridiculous set of baubles shaped like miniature Iron Man helmets, claiming they’re “for balance.”

As you make your way back home, you can’t help but smile at the sight of him carrying one of the bags, his usual swagger intact despite the snow and the festive chaos around him.

“You’re smiling,” he notes, glancing down at you.

“You let me drag you to a Christmas market and convinced you to buy decorations,” you say, leaning into his side. “I think I’ve earned a smile.”

Tony chuckles, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “Fair enough. But just so you know, this doesn’t mean I’ve gone full holiday enthusiast. I’m still the same, cool, non-cheesy Tony Stark.”

“Sure you are,” you reply, smirking.

When you finally reach the penthouse, the two of you dump your bags on the living room floor and collapse onto the couch. Tony kicks off his shoes and stretches out, pulling you down beside him.

“You know,” he says, his voice soft as he glances at the tree in the corner, “you were right. The tree looked a little lonely.”

You smile, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s going to look perfect once we put everything up.”

Tony kisses the top of your head, his arm tightening around you. “If it makes you happy, then it’s worth it.”

As the snow continues to fall outside, you sit together, the glow of the tree lights casting a warm, golden hue over the room. For all his grumbling and sarcasm, Tony Stark has embraced the holiday spirit in his own way—and you couldn’t love him more for it.

[hwavsg4ch4n]

Awkward|| L.M

Note: hi guys, this is actually a music series (more info linked) bonus. I usually write multiple versions of a smut per song and choose which one fits the vibe the most. this one was actually supposed to be for SYNERGY (linked), but I reworked it and made it better for "Awkward". I haven't been here for a while and decided that I'm the kind of writer that likes to pop in randomly lol. I'm thinking about turning this into a mini-series separate from the music series. After you read this, please follow the link at the end and vote on the pole if you think this would be a good mini-series! ps. word count of 4,783... get a snack.

Disclaimer: I have decided not to no longer put any tags in my works to avoid unneeded spoilers. I will only warn when there are extremely triggering aspects in my work. Read at your own discretion.

Synopsis: You've been single for years, it's sad really. coming up with excuse after excuse as to why you should be okay. Then society introduced the appearance of 'soulmates', and somehow everything got worse. But then there's your boss, what should you do with him...

this is a mature work of fiction (18+), this does not represent any real-life figures, this is just for entertainment.

Music series bonus <masterlist>

You tilted your head back, gulping down the rich red wine as the brisk night air glided across your naked arms.

What was love? It was stupid, at least that’s what you always told yourself. Love is dumb, for the weak; and you weren’t weak. You wished you believed your thoughts, but you couldn’t help but crave love. What it felt like, sounded like, what it smelled like, what it tasted like. 

Jealousy was a disease and you hated to admit that you were practically hospitalized and in a coma from said disease. 

However, solidarity was alright sometimes. It was rewarding, no arguments, no having to worry what your partner was up to if they were taking care of themselves properly. You only had to worry about yourself… is it bad that was your biggest con to single life? Only having to worry about yourself.

You told yourself this for years. That was until early last year, when the CDC came out with a new phenomenon. They called it, soulmates. You thought it was corny. You watched as scientists explained the symptoms, and how it starts. How it feels, how you can differentiate your feelings blah blah blah, it was bullshit in your eyes. But not many felt the same. 

The day after the news of soulmates reached the public, your office became littered with pairings. Mia from accounting and Felix in your branding apartment paired up instantly. Everyone saw that one coming. They were frauds, had to be, the CDC said their research is still new, meaning they’ll need long-term volunteers that they’ll compensate. That's when fake soulmates started appearing. You called bullshit when the news stated authentic soulmates are now being deemed rare. The CDC just wanted to cover its tracks, hiding another economic decline. Soulmates weren’t real.

Your loneliness grew worse because of your slight rebellion. You didn’t put yourself out there, scared someone would falsely claim you as a soulmate. It’s nights like this where you want to let yourself fall in line. Here you are, alone at the Valentine’s Day company party for another year, this time due to self-sabotage. You already hated this holiday, but of course, science had to make it worse. On the balcony sipping expensive wine your boss bought for everyone, you tried your best to drown out the jazz music and giggles as coworkers showed off their engagement rings.

Minho watched you through the glass door of the balcony with hesitancy. He tuned out the conversation he was dragged into. “Mr. Lee, what are your opinions on soulmates.” He looked at the second department secretary, taking in her inquiry, “I’m not quite sure.” He was telling the truth, he didn’t think much of it, if it was true great, if it wasn’t, it didn’t really affect him in any way, probably just another pity thing. The marriage statistic was getting low, he read it in a paper. Minho took one more sip from his whiskey glass before setting it down and excusing himself.

Everyone in the office knew that Minho, the COO of this company, took a liking to you; everyone was jealous in fact. The kind, extroverted, unmarried, painfully attractive man… liked you. The seemingly cold, work-a-holic, introvert of a woman. He’s liked you since before the news came forth with their studies, yet you were oblivious. Your self-esteem is so low that you wouldn’t dare to even think a man like Minho would see you in such a way, not when people are trying to claim the bachelor every day. 

You looked over your shoulder as the balcony door opened. You smiled politely, “Mr. Lee, how are you?” You asked gently. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice, not even trying to hide the shivers that trailed down his spine at your tempt voice. “I’m doing well, but I couldn’t help but feel bothered when I saw you out here alone. Are you not cold, Ms. L/n?” You watched as he made his way next to you, leaning against the metal railing. He gazed at the city skyline, awaiting your answer.

You took another sip of wine. “It’s a bit chilly, but I can manage.” Short and simple, polite. That’s all Minho got from you. He's never wanted a person to rant to him for hours so badly, but that would be seen as unprofessional. He clears his throat, standing up straight. “Are you not having fun?” He asked. Maybe it was the wine that compelled you to answer him differently than you normally would. “To be honest, Mr. Lee,” He raised his brows, turning to you fully. “What is it?” You let yourself answer. “I don’t really favor office parties.” You chuckled before downing the last bit of your wine.

Minho frowned before biting his lip. “I hope it’s okay that I call you by your name,” He started, “Sure.” He gulped dryly before giving you an offer. “Would you like to get out of here, y/n?” You finally faced him, brows furrowed as your eyes lingered across his figure, taking him in.

White button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, black slacks, dark auburn hair fallen into his eyes, the eyes that were surveying you softly. It would be strange, to ride off into the night with your boss on the night the company is rumored to rename the festive party ‘soulmates night'. But you’ve had about 3 full glasses of wine, and you’re bored plus inquisitive.

“Where would we be going?”, he smiles.

After bidding an awkward goodbye to your coworkers, and avoiding questioning looks about the two of you leaving together; you finally made it to Minho’s car.  

“Wanna catch a late movie?” Your head tilted in question, he drove out of the parking lot the humming of the engine fills the silence. Smirking to yourself in disbelief, you agreed. 

The ride was filled with conversation, the longest non-work related conversation you’ve had with this man. He spoke of everything you didn’t think he’d speak of. How he missed home, how living in a bustling city was fun, but the sound of waves beat the sound of honking horns. You couldn’t help but ask him questions, you didn’t care if they were the right questions. You were comfortable, too comfortable. Was it the wine you downed? Maybe the grand looking air freshener in his car. It hurts your pride to admit that it might just be him. He smelled nice and spoke to you gently in that voice he would use to remind you of your lunch hour. 

You took in a breath as his hands on the steering wheel came into view, “Oh sweet jesus”. You pressed yourself into the black leather seat. It’s the wine, it has to be the wine. Minho turned to you as he finished parking, “You ready?” 

-

No one was there in the theater, no one but the two of you. You couldn’t focus on the movie, all you could focus on was how you were alone with Minho, completely alone with him. 

You were zoned out until you were pulled back to reality. “Are you enjoying the movie?” He whispered, not looking in your direction, his eyes glued to the projected screen. You couldn’t help but ask bluntly, “What are we doing?” 

Minho looked at you, you felt his gaze so you looked back. “Mr. Lee, it’s soulmates night.” He frowned, chewing on his popcorn. His heartbeat quickened, were you implying something?

 It was dark, but you could see him like there was the light of a halo above him. “What do you wish we were doing, Y/n?” Why did he ask you that? Why did he ask like he wanted to fulfill a wish?

You looked away, parted lips and furrowed eyebrows. He couldn’t see your face properly, he took your silence as rejection, and maybe he read you wrong. “I don’t mean to upset you, I apologize. Let’s finish the movie, then I’ll take you home?” You didn’t want to finish the movie, you weren’t even watching the boring movie.

Your heart was pounding, was this what proper desire felt like? It felt different from your crush on the Grey’s Anatomy guy. Was this what being wanted felt like? But he’s your boss… You felt a surge of warmth, a shallow buzzing feeling accumulated in your fingertips, must be excitement. Your conscious almost coming alive, fuck it, give in. You did just that.

Biting your lip you breathed in deep, “I don’t want to continue the movie.” You stated in a whisper. You couldn’t see it clearly, but Minho grew worried, worried he scared you off completely.

“Oh- would you like to, would you like for me to take you home now, Miss. L/n?” He didn’t want to use your first name, afraid of abusing his power. It made you flinch, “I thought you said… you were gonna use my name from now on?” You whispered. Finding his eyes in the slim light provided by the screen.

He licked his lips, although it was out of his nervousness, the action made you gulp. “My apologies, Y/n.” you weren’t aware of it yet, but you held all the power at this given moment. He’d do anything you told him to with no question.

“I do want to get out of here, but I don’t want to go home Mr. Lee.” You said, standing up, and grabbing your purse. Minho stood up as well, eyes never leaving your form as he studied you for unspoken answers.

“I would like to see where my boss lives, I’ve always been curious.” your lashes fluttering, as you peered up at him with a quick pulse and sweaty palms. What if you read him wrong, what if he dismissed you and fired you on the spot? What if this whole ordeal was just because he pitied you for being single for every Valentine’s Day party?

“Well, I should let you overcome your curiosity, shouldn’t I Y/n?” He said with amusement. “After you.” He moved out of the way, letting you lead the way out of the theater.

You continuously asked yourself what you were doing on the drive to his house. Well, you knew what you were doing. You were lonely, and tired of it, taking up a messy offer that could end up in you getting scammed by this man. You’ll apologize in the mirror later. Hitting rock bottom was something you would worry about tomorrow. Your hazy mind only lets you think about his veiny hand gripping the gear shift.

What would happen if you took it upon yourself to place him where you wanted him? 

Working up the courage, you sucked in a breath before allowing your fingers to trace his cufflinks, trailing your fingers around his wrist. His fastened pulse boosted your ego, looking to see his reaction. Minho remained focused on the road, with no intention of stopping you as he blinked and took more deep breaths than a calm human would.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you brought his hand to the warm flesh of your warm thigh, just under the hem of your black tweed skirt. Your blood pumped at the thought of how he’s letting you have your way. He wanted this too, to touch you. His hand was warm, and comforting. You liked how pretty it was on your skin, admiring the visual as your nails traced his veins.

Minho didn’t mean to squeeze, he did it subconsciously. He didn’t realize he did it until you gasped shallowly, clenching your thighs around his hand and looking up at him with the lowest gaze he’s ever seen from you.

“Sorry.” He muttered, rubbing his hand along the inside of your thigh in an attempt to soothe, not wanting to get you too worked up just yet. But his touch had the opposite effect. You didn’t want to wait anymore. It was known that Minho’s house was in the rich part of the city, all the way across town. Even Though it was a mere 30 minute drive, the distance felt like an eternity. 

“Minho,” Minho gulped dryly. Your deep tone sent shock waves through his body, he enjoyed how his name dripped off your tongue. “Yes, Y/n?” His voice remained steady, not wanting to ruin something that could get so good. “I want you to pull into the park, I wanna watch the sky with you.” You whispered. Minho’s heart grew soft as you continued to trance his veins. He nodded silently, ready to take every command you asked of him.

You watched as he parked, the view of the city was beautiful, but that wasn’t your focus as of now. 

There was a silence, loud, swallowing the city sounds in the distance. Your body shifted, rotating towards him. Minho turned to you, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly as he took in the view of you. “Kiss me,” Yes you were being blunt, and bold, but you didn’t care. Who cares?

You grinned as Minho pulled you on his lap, his strength not surprising you; considering how his arms looked way too confined in every dress shirt he owned. Your eyes shut as his lips collide with yours. Soft, buttery, warm, so so warm, and buzzing… your lips were buzzing. The feeling of him was clouding your judgment. Minho’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. He tilted his head, kissing you deeper. Pulling back slightly, he watched as you followed him. Minho smiled, softly chuckling. You opened your heavy lids, growing shy to see his gaze. Your lips parted as he pushed you even closer, rubbing against the growing tent in his slacks, you jolted as your core began to buzz as well. Your lips molded with his once more, and the sounds of what you presumed to be fireworks sounded in the distance.

 His breathing was heavy as you disconnected to catch your breath. Minho’s hands tilted your head to the side slightly, breathing you in softly, lips grazing your skin as you shuttered, your fingers gripping his sleeve. He licked his lips before kissing your collarbone, traveling up your neck, absorbing every gasp you let out. 

You feel his hand slide to the back of your head, angling your face down so his eyes can meet yours as he lays his forehead on yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, y/n.” Your heart panged, searching his eyes for truth. He wanted you, Minho, your boss, wanted you. 

Your hands traced his bottom lip, and you blinked softly, “Take care of me then, yeah?” You whispered. He smiled gently, gripping your jaw and pulling you back. 

The both of you suck in a breath as Minho presses his lips to yours once more, his hand pushing your head impossibly closer. He wanted to feel you, meet with you in ways he’d only imagined. You were letting him give you what he thought was impossible for him. Truthfully, he would’ve liked to ask you out on a proper date. But this would suffice if it was what you wanted from him.

The two of you kissed for a while, gradually feeling and touching each other. Feeling what was never seen. Your body grew warmer, the buzzing centered to your stomach as you bunched up his shirt, wanting to feel his skin bare against yours. “Minho,” It didn’t mean to sound like a plea, “What is it? What do you want me to do?” His voice was breathy, low, needy, and ready to please. You couldn’t get enough. “Off.” You tugged at his collar. Barely even a second later, he began to unbutton his shirt. You wasted no time placing your hands on his sculpted chest once exposed, gulping as you stared at his skin. Absentmindedly gliding your manicured fingers across him.

Minho watched your every move, whimpering as your fingertips flicked his nipples. Your nails left gentle scratches, he licked his lips at the sight. He can’t recall ever wanting someone so badly, to the point he was painfully hard, closing his eyes and throwing his head back at the slightest touches you granted him. 

You wanted his reaction intensively, feeling his twitching member under you as you pinched and rubbed his nipples. His chest rose and fell at a somewhat hurried pace, the tips of his ears grew red, and so did his lips as he couldn’t stop licking and biting at them. It’s not like the action helped keep him quiet. His heavy breathing began to get mixed in with soft whimpers.

You smiled, “Who knew you’d be so sensitive.” You mumbled. “Sorry… uhm. I’m not usually like this.” You grinned at his hushed awkwardness. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” You whispered back, your hands continued tracing the outline of him. One by one you left open kisses on his neck, traveling up behind his ear. You sucked at his warm skin, “I hope the secretary doesn’t see what I’m leaving on you Mr. Lee, I think she might have a crush on you.” You said playfully, smiling against his clammy skin, sucking another bruise. Minho’s hands travel to the bottom of your skirt in response, pulling the fabric to bunch at your waist. He squeezes at your thighs as you find the spot that meets his shoulder and neck, his breath shallows. His hips bucking as you suck and nip at the skin. You were hot to the touch, it heightened the feeling of you on him. 

Minho isn’t sure how you got the one up on him, but he lets your hands wander to the buckle of his belt. He looks up at your face, your eyes full of determination as you swiftly take off his belt, unbuttoning his pants. He can’t help but smirk as he feels heat center in his stomach, “You’ve got me right where you want me y/n,” Your movements slow as you start to push his pants down to his ankles, “You’re the only one who’s ever gotten me like this.” Minho watches you bite your lip as he feeds into your ego. His eyes shoot down as you grasp his erection through his boxers. “Haven’t been this hard in so,” his voice shakes as your grip tightens “So long, fuck baby.” Your lips part at his words, looking up to see his head thrown back at the seat. You tap at his tip, the fabric starting to stick to his precum as you admire the bites you left on his skin. 

“Minho,” You call out softly, he opens his eyes to see you staring at his member. The look in your eyes almost makes him ask if you want him to take over. Your eyes were glazed over, your lips pouty as you tug at his boxers, he smirks slightly. “I’ll get these out your way, sorry baby.” Your pussy clenched around nothing at the use of the pet name again, it feels so good to be called that, the buzzing shoots to your core before centering again. It almost felt like a boost of arousal, you were too enraptured by the man in front of you to care.

Your hands returned to his stiffened member as soon as it sprang free, you felt Minho tense at your touch. You looked up at him as you began to stroke him lightly. His eyes were hooded, he watched your hand quickly become slick with his arousal as you pumped at a careful pace. Minho licked his lips, noticing through his foggy mind how you still remained fully dressed. Your thighs only exposed because he decided to tease just once. Yes, his words earlier were to edge on your performance, but they were true. Minho has never been on the receiving end, he loved giving, if you told him to take over he’d do it gladly. More importantly, his need to please was strong, if pleasing you meant stepping back a bit he’s happy too. However, he didn’t anticipate his sensitivity to your touch. He hears himself whimper as your pumping speeds up, the rising heat traveling down to his member. He jolts as the pleasure intensifies. A hand hovers over your pumping one before holding himself back and placing it back on your thigh.

He’s starting to lose a battle, don’t cum, not yet, she’ll get bored soon and touch you somewhere else, don’t fucking cum. He chanted to himself, one of his hands moved to your ass, gripping as his other kept shelter on your thigh. You watched as he shut his eyes tight, his lips parting as he huffed out puffs of air. You smiled in triumph as he began to shake his head side to side, starting to lose his internal war, “B-baby… y/n, I’m gonna c-cum baby,” His voice was hoarse.

You tilted your head, sliding your pumping up to only his tip. His thighs jolted, his eyes opening as he started to look at you for pity. He only saw you looking at his dick dreamily, the heat in his stomach pulses. He swallows down his need to overcome you, opting to let himself relax.

Minho cursed, he groaned deeply, throwing his head back. His brain started to become unmanageably fuzzy. 

“Y/n.” He whispered, licking his lips.

His smooth thighs flexed.“You’re so good baby,” Your lips parted at his soft whimper.

You grin, slowing down your pumping, giggling as he whimpered trying to fuck your palm the heat causing his tip to pulse. “You like me huh, Minho?” Your words were teasing. You were met with an eager nod. Cooing, you slipped off your underwear. You looked into his brown eyes, just when you thought he let himself surrender fully, he had some fight left in him. 

He gripped your waist, biting his lip as he guided you over his throbbing member. You let him sink you down onto his warmth. You whimpered, Minho watched carefully, looking for signs of you needing him to take over. Only for him to get knocked down again, his brows furrowed as you brace a hand on his blushed chest, beginning to ride him. He stared at your clothed chest, your nipples hard enough for the outline to push past your bra and blouse. With heavy breaths his eyes traveled up your littered neck, finally landing on your blissed face. “Pretty,” He whispered, so soft you barely acknowledged it. His brain was swirling with only the image of you, the smell of you reminding him of a warm cabin.

You looked down at him, giggling at his starry eyes and beads of sweat, you were unaware of the state his mind was in. You were enthralled by the thought of him being so pliant. Never in a million years did you think your boss would be under you with a flushed face and a throbbing dick. You feel his dick pulse as he squeezes his eyes shut. Your hands make their way to his jaw, “Are you holding your cum from me, Mr. Lee?” His member throbs again. Your voice and playful words have him shaking his head, gripping your ass so hard you're sure there will be a mark, it stirs you on. “Want you to... To cu-cum first.” He whispered. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, Minho’s eyes snap open, lifting you off him, and you forget about his strength for just a moment.

You peered down to see his jumping member and quivering thighs, precum leaking and he tried to catch his breath. You didn’t let him, you swatted his hold away, ignoring his groan as you seethed him back into your warm hole. “Ah, fuck I can’t hold it, baby.” He rasped out, listening to how wet you were. You didn’t answer him, tuning out his winning, starting to chase your own high that's been building up while watching him. The buzzing started to spread. You gripped his shoulders, pushing yourself closer to him. Minho’s hand placed itself on your sweaty back, bracing himself. His other hand slid down to your thigh, grazing where he was buried into you. His grip tightened, spreading your slick puffy lips slightly. “Min, that's so good.” You whimpered. He hummed, burying his head into your neck. He shifted, widening his legs the best he could, and started to meet your thrusts. 

Your mouth formed an O, tears forming in your eyes as he hit the gummy spot you never reached on your own. Before you knew it your body began to go numb from the pleasure, the buzzing reached every inch of you in what felt like a millisecond. Minho felt your muscles detense, he whimpered as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He chuckled tiredly at the sound of your babbling. You finally needed him, you were close and god knows he is too. He fucked into you like you’ve unlocked a different part of him. 

“Gonna c-cum min.” You whimpered, “I know baby, I Know.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, feeling his self control finally coming to an end. He grunts, taking a hand and reaching between your radiating bodies. You moan so loud you're sure any late night hikers would be able to hear you. Your thighs shake as if it feels you’re physically experiencing the color red, the buzzing now being heard in your ears, distracting you from your release covering his thighs as yours shake. Minho grunts before he bites down on your shoulder, seeing sparks of deep green as he squeezes his eyes shut, spilling himself into you as he starts to hear crackles of fire. 

When you close your eyes you're met with the visions of the man that’s under you. Images of his life, his milestones,  you feel what he felt all in the blink of an eye. The images seize, and you’re yanked out of the dreamy state, catching your breath. You gulp, slowly facing him. His eyes meet yours, “Did you see that?” he whispered. You nodded, your fingertips still buzzing. “I-is this that soulmate thing?” his voice slightly above a murmur. Your body tensed, “What?” He looked into your eyes, he could almost feel your fear, “U-uh nothing.” He lifted you off him gently, ignoring what the sight of his release dripping from you did to him. Minho watched as you straightened yourself out in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes glanced at the foggy windows before returning to your now tense form.

Were you his… soulmate? He thought it was just a speculation that scientists made up to give the single population hope. He cleared his throat, putting his softening member back into his boxers, and lifting his pants up. “I’ll, uhm… I’ll drive you home.” Minho licks his lips nervously as he puts on his wrinkled button down. He looked at the time on his watch, 12:57am. He moves to turn on the engine. 

“You believe them?” Minho glanced your way, taking in your question. “Do you believe what they say on the news?” He blinked, thinking of a proper answer as he started to drive out of the parking lot. “I mean,” He turned to enter the freeway. “If it’s on the news, there has to be some truth.” You took in his words, rolling down the window. “Y/n, the… symptoms that they described, that’s what just happened.” You frowned, looking out the window taking in his words. “I saw you, your middle school graduation,” you glower at him, his eyes were on the road, only glancing at you briefly. “I saw your first, and only relationship…” He paused, seeing your hands clasp together nervously out of the corner of his eye. He changed the topic, “When I… finished, I saw green, a forest green. And I heard fire, like a campfire.” 

You gazed at his side profile. Without a word, you looked forward. You gave him the directions to your apartment.

As he pulled into your driveway, you grabbed your purse putting it on your shoulder. Minho said nothing when you opened the door as soon as he came to a stop, not even giving him a chance to put the car in park. You stepped out, your heels clacking on the pavement. You took in a deep breath before bending down, coming into his view again. You looked at his longing eyes, waiting for you to say anything to grant him peace of mind. “I’ll see you on Monday Mr. Lee.” With that, you closed his door. Gulping down anxiety as you steadily walk to the entrance of your apartment.

-

Link to vote for this to become a series [click on me]!

[thoseboysinblue]

I Kissed Someone New Last Night

Christian Pulisic x reader

You visit your best friend, Christian, in Milan after a break up.

Word count: 4150+

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, mentions of weight loss, mentions of death of parents

Song Inspo: Kelsea Ballerini's Penthouse (Healed Version)

Requested: No

"Come to Milan" he pleads with you through the phone, "I'm worried about you, y/n."

"Christian, you know I can't do that," you frown at him.

"Please," he says quietly, "you've lost too much weight, you're not taking care of yourself, and no offense but you kind of look like shit," he tries to lighten the mood just a bit.

The truth is, there is nothing stopping you from hopping on the next flight to see your best friend and both of you know it. You broke off your engagement a few months ago, after finding out your fiancé was cheating on you. You also recently quit your job because no matter how hard you tried you always were bumping into him and you desperately needed a fresh start.

You had considered moving to Florida to be closer to Christian's family, the only real support system you had left. And even though he was far away, Christian never failed to be there for you through every heartbreak you had endured in your short life.

The night your mom died when the two of you were in high school, he dropped everything to be by your side, staying with you through all of it, holding you when you cried, staying strong for you when you completely fell apart.

He flew home as soon as he heard the news of your father's passing a few years later, and again, he was your rock. As everything in your life seemed to crash down, he was the constant, steady presence.

His family had welcomed you with open arms, including you in their holidays, family vacations, and trips to visit Christian and watch him play. They always made sure you felt like you had a place to call home. In recent years, you had opted to go to Christian for holidays so that he wouldn't have to spend them alone, the two of you setting about creating your own traditions. That was until your ex came along and you felt like you should spend holidays with him, but it broke your heart knowing Christian was spending them alone again.

Christian never really liked your ex, he couldn't put his finger on exactly why, but something about him made his guard go up. And it broke his heart when he found out he was right all along, maybe if he had said something he could have spared you the heartbreak, but you seemed happy and he wasn't going to interfere if that was truly the case.

"Come see me, I'll take care of you, I'll feed you pasta and let you get drunk on Italian wine. We can see the city together, I haven't gotten to do much exploring yet. It will be good for you to get away, take a break, get some fresh air, come on y/n, please?" he continues to plead with you.

"Ok" you whisper and you see his face light up, immediately grabbing his laptop and searching for flights before you have a chance to change your mind.

"How soon can you leave, looks like I can get you on a flight tonight, or tomorrow," he grins into the phone.

"Christian, you don't have to do that, I'll book something," you roll your eyes at him. He never failed to be generous and take care of you, whatever you needed, you didn't even have to ask most of the time.

"Nope. Not happening. Tonight or tomorrow, y/n? You better give me an answer or I'm closing h my eyes and clicking on whatever I land on," he chuckles.

"Fuck it, tonight," you grin at him, the first genuine smile he's seen from you in as long as he can remember.

You have to admit that the thought of landing in Italy tomorrow morning to spend however long you wanted with Christian makes you a little dizzy.

"Ok, pack your bags sweetheart, I'm sending you your boarding pass now," he smiles at you, "fuck I'm so excited to see you, it's been ages since we've gotten to spend time together."

"Christian, I just saw you this summer in Florida," you chuckle at him.

"Yeah, but that was less than 24 hours and you had the dickhead with you so it doesn't really count," he huffs at you.

"Christian this boarding pass says seat 4C, you did not just book me a first class ticket did you, you jackass."

"I sure did, because I can, and because I wanted to, and because there wasn't much left on the flight anyways. Now, get off the phone and start packing. Call me when you leave for the airport. Love you, y/n."

"Love you too, Chris." you shake your head at him before you hang up.

A few hours later, you have taken care of anything that might need your attention in the next few weeks since you were unsure of exactly when you would be back. You had packed and showered, and were set to leave for the airport. Making one final check that you had everything you needed, you call Christian, who answers sleepily, "I'm headed to the airport," you smile, even though he can't see you. "Ok, I'll see you in the morning," he says through a yawn, "safe travels."

"Thank you for this" you whisper but you can hear him snoring through the phone so you quietly end the call, after whispering another "love you."

You phone dings when you turn it off of airplane mode and you look down to see a message from Christian.

Christian: ciao bella 🤌🏻 there will be a car waiting for you to take you to my apartment. I'll be in training when you land, but should be home when you get there. Can't wait to see you 🫶🏻 Love you.

Y/N: oh god, am I going to be subjected to your attempts at learning Italian?

Y/N: thank you for the flight and arranging the car. I'll meet you at home. I can't wait to see you either. Love you, Chris 🫶🏻

Christian: do not insult my Italian, y/n. On my way home now, see you there 😍

When you arrive, he is waiting outside for you, pulling you into a warm embrace. It feels like he might crush you, but being in his arms heals your soul just a tiny bit.

"You've bulked up," you chuckle, your head resting against his chest. "You're skin and bones" he whispers leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

"Come on" he says retrieving your bags from the car and thanking the driver, waving off your attempts to help carry your things.

He leads you inside his new apartment, sitting your bags just inside the door before intertwining his fingers with yours, "let me show you around," he smiles at you adoringly.

He leads you from room to room, letting you know his plans for each of the ones that aren't quiet fully furnished yet. He grabs your bags as you follow him up the stairs opening the door to what you presume is his bedroom.

"Christian, this is gorgeous," you say taking in the room, the view out of his window to die for.

"It is," he smiles, never taking his eyes off of you.

You and Christian always share a bed when you are together so you aren't sure why it makes you slightly nervous to think about staying with him now, but it does. Your stomach flips as he moves your bag into the walk in closet, sitting your toiletry bag on the bathroom counter.

"Are you tired?" he whispers tucking a loose strand of hair around your ear and settling his hand on you jaw, smiling a the way you lean into him and shake your head, your eyes already a little brighter.

"Hungry?" he grins when you nod.

"You feel up to going somewhere, or do you want me to cook here, or we can order in?"

"We can go out, but can I have a few minutes to freshen up? You know I always feel gross after a long flight."

"Of course," he smiles, leading you into the bathroom, grabbing a towel for you and turning on the shower.

"Thank you," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his waist, "for everything," a couple of tears slip from your eyes which you try to hide from him but he definitely notices.

"Always, y/n" he breathes out, kissing you on the forehead.

After your shower, you wrap yourself in a towel, walking into Christian's room so that you can grab some clothes out of your suitcase. Christian is sitting on the bed when you walk out of the bathroom and his heart sinks when he realizes just how thin you've gotten. He knows it's just from the stress, and that you tend to lose weight when you are dealing with heavy emotions, and that you always return to your normal with a little TLC, usually from him.

He doesn't say anything, he knows he doesn't have to, you can read perfectly well the look of concern on his face.

"I'll be fine, Christian," you whisper as he nods.

"I know you will be now," he offers you a weak smile, but the look of concern is still evident.

You quickly get dressed, noticing that Christian has already unpacked your things and placed them on the empty shelves in his closet, your heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

"Come here" he gestures, patting the empty space on the bed beside him.

You waste no time in climbing over him and tucking yourself into his side, your head resting on his chest as he scratches your back.

"You know I'm here for anything you need, right? Forever." he speaks quietly.

You nod, allowing the familiar sound of his heart and his scent to wash over you. You never feel more cared for than you do when you are wrapped in Christian's arms, his warm embrace always soothing you, no matter what is going on in your life.

"You sure you don't want a nap," he asks quietly, a small yawn escaping his lips.

"We can nap if you are tired, Chris," you whisper.

"That's not what I asked," he chuckles.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and he kisses you on the top of the head, "food first, then naps."

He takes you to a small restaurant close to his apartment, filling you with as much pasta as you can hold before you make the short walk back to his place.

Once you arrive back at Christian's, he closes the room darkening shades in his living room and the two of you settle down on the couch to watch a movie.

Before long, you fall asleep wrapped up in Christian's arms and he does the same. You aren't sure how long you've slept when you stir slightly, waking Christian up.

"You ok?" he whispers into the dark, a sigh escaping his lips when you nod and nuzzle your face into his chest. You let out a giggle when his stomach rumbles, "you can't be hungry again, Chris."

"I'm starving, actually" he chuckles when you move slightly allowing him to stand up and pull you to your feet. He makes the two of you a sandwich, both of you eating before heading up to get changed for bed.

You wander out of the en-suite bathroom in Christian's room after finishing your skincare to find Christian sitting in the bed, already under the covers.

You give him a hesitant look, chewing on your bottom lip, "you sure you want me to stay in here, I could stay in the guest room or..." you trail off as he stands up and makes his way over to you wrapping you in a hug.

"Why wouldn't you stay in here, we've been sharing a bed since we were kids, y/n," he says quietly his hand stroking your back.

"I don't know," you whisper, "I just wasn't sure you wanted me in here."

"Of course I do," he says taking your hand and guiding you towards the bed, "but only if you want to be in here. I can definitely get you set up in the guest room if you would feel more comfortable."

"No, this is fine," you offer him a smile, your moment of anxiety passing.

"You know, I think my parents always thought we were up to something when we kept sharing a bed when we got older," he chuckles, "led to me getting the talk from my dad on more than one occasion."

"No, really?" you groan, your cheeks painted with embarrassment as you try to hide your face with your hands.

"Mmmhmmm" he laughs pulling your hands from your face, "I think they were worried that we might figure out that one of us is a boy and the other is a girl when we were younger, but as we got older, I think there were secretly rooting for it."

"I figured they would eventually put a stop to it, but I guess they trusted you far more than the trusted me," he grins.

"Guess we've disappointed them then," you chuckle tucking yourself into his side as he kisses the top of your head.

"Sleep well, y/n, wake me if you need anything," he whispers as he turns off the lights leaving the two of you wrapped up in nothing but the darkness and each other's arms.

The next several days in Milan Christian works to improve your mood as much as he can, enjoying when he catches flickers of you returning to your normal self.

You wake up early with him, enjoying quiet mornings before he has to leave for training. He even asks if he can bring you along for a few sessions giving you a chance to catch up with his old Chelsea teammates. You spend afternoons wandering the city and learning Italian with him. Evenings, which he knows you typically dread, are spent, snuggled up together watching movies or binge watching some of your favorite series.

Being constantly surrounded by Christian's presence is working wonders for you, you can feel yourself healing from everything you've been through the past few months. During a face time with Christian's mom she mentions that she can tell both of you are in a better place mentally and physically and that she's glad you are getting to spend some time together.

You cannot deny how much you enjoy being with him, here in a safe bubble, seemingly protected from the outside world. And Christian, he's enjoying your company more and more each day. Things are seamless and comfortable between the two of you, conversations are easy, and the silences are never awkward.

He has been thrilled to have you with him as he embarks on a new season with Milan. You've been able to travel to away games with him and we're blown away on your first trip to the San Siro.

One particularly warm evening after a match, you walk out of the bathroom in a pair of pajamas that show far more skin than any others you've worn around him. You pretend not to notice the way his breath hitches in his throat when he sees you and the way his eyes follow you as you slip into bed next to him.

"You ok?" you whisper, resting your head on his chest noticing the way his heart is hammering away.

"Couldn't be better," he sighs, trailing his hands over the exposed skin on your back and shoulders noticing when your skin erupts in goosebumps, a reaction he's not used to from you.

"I've got the next couple of days off, I thought we might take a little trip to Lake Como tomorrow, have some lunch, see the area," he says quietly, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"That sounds nice," you whisper, turning to place a kiss to his chest.

"And I have a surprise for you tomorrow night," he smiles as you turn to look him in the eyes, resting your chin on his chest.

"You know I hate surprises," you grin, a glint of playfulness in your eyes.

"I know, but this is a good one, and you're not getting it out of me," he grins back at you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

"Now, let's get some sleep, we have an early morning tomorrow," he says, reaching to turn off the light and gesturing for you to turn on your side so that he can be the big spoon.

"Good night y/n," he whispers, "love you," as he places a feather light kiss on your shoulder, so light you almost don't notice it.

"Good night, Chris, love you too." You whisper back to him, intertwining your fingers with his.

The next morning, you both wake up early and have a quick breakfast before leaving for the day's adventure. Lake Como is more beautiful than you could imagine and you share a lunch that borderlines on romantic at a small cafe that overlooks the lake.

"I can't believe we are here," you nudge him with your shoulder as you walk down a small path towards the waters edge.

"I'm sure you could sweep some lucky girl off of her feet here," you chuckle at him noticing the way his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Probably, but that's not what today is about is it," he rolls his eyes at you, "today is about me and you spending time together, not me scoping out potential date spots."

"I know, but what better place to fall in love than Italy, Christian," you say, twirling yourself around in front of him, missing the absolutely smitten look on his face.

"Maybe," he shrugs his shoulders, his eyes never leaving you.

"Are you going to tell me what this surprise is?" you ask him, looping your arm through his and resting your head on his shoulder. Noticing the way his skin reacts to your fingers tracing over his skin.

You like Kelsea Ballerini right?" he asks, as he rests his head on the top of yours as you both of you stare out over the water at the colorful houses dotting the horizon.

"I do, her new album is practically an anthem for my life right now, why?" you breathe out, shuddering as his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"She's playing at the stadium tonight, and I might have gotten tickets for us," he says lowly, tilting his head up so that he can look you in the eyes and see your reaction.

"Playing at the stadium, as in your stadium? In Milan?" you nearly squeal, turning to fully face him as he nods.

"Thank you," your voice comes out low, barely above a whisper as tears well in your eyes, "for this, and for everything, you've always been the one person I could count on no matter what, and I honestly don't know what I would do without you."

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering a bit longer than normal as you notice him swallow dryly.

Leaning back slightly, you take in his features, suddenly mesmerized by his beauty. You've always known Christian was attractive, that much was obvious to you, but Italy has done him a world of good. His summer tan has lingered a bit longer, freckles dancing over his skin, and his eyes seem a bit brighter and more full of hope than you've seen them in a while. You catch your gaze lingering over his lips, noticing how soft and plump they are and wondering what they might feel like pressed against your own.

Christian has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, there isn't a single core memory of yours that doesn't involve him, being here with him the past couple of weeks, his patience, support and attentiveness have healed parts of you you didn't know needed healing.

Part of you never thought it was possible to develop feelings for him beyond friendship, and yet, when he's looking at you the way he is at this very moment, it makes you wonder if there couldn't be something more there.

"You're staring," he whispers, enjoying the flood of color that rushes to your cheeks.

"Am I not allowed to stare at my best friend? You're kind of beautiful you know?" you say, your eyes never leaving his.

"You're the beautiful one," he whispers, leaning down and glancing at your lips, almost as if he's thinking of kissing them before kissing the tip of your nose.

You turn, facing the horizon again as his arms squeeze your waist. "I love it here," you breathe out, feeling him nod as he rests his chin on your shoulder, but you aren't quite sure if by "here" you mean your actual location, or if you mean in Christian's arms.

"We should go," he gives you a gentle squeeze and slides his hand into yours.

The car ride home is quiet, he can tell you're lost in your own thoughts and he'd give anything to know what you are thinking about as you stare out of the window. Truthfully, he's a bit lost in his on thoughts as well, trying to come to terms with everything he's been feeling over the last few days.

Back at his apartment, you start getting ready for the concert, Christian ordering dinner for the two of you to eat as you get ready. You pick out a flowy dress, something that accentuates your best features, wanting to look pretty for yourself, and you catch yourself thinking that you also want to look pretty for him. You want him to be proud to have you with him, not that he's ever made you feel otherwise.

Once you are finally ready to go, you walk out of his bathroom about the same time as he walks out of his closet, also dressed and ready to go. You both silently stare at each other, soaking one another in before his lips curl slightly at the edges as he makes his way over to you.

"You look beautiful as always," he smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your mouth.

"So do you," you blush slightly at his compliment as he takes your hand and leads you to the car waiting to pick you up.

The concert is amazing, Christian never leaves your side, and most of the night he has one or both arms wrapped around your waist.

As the first notes of "Penthouse" ring out around the stadium he moves so that he is standing behind you, both arms around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he gently sways with you to the music.

Tears well in your eyes at the words that seem so very personal to you, a few spill over as Christian grips onto your hips turns you around. He brings his hands up to cup your face as he brushes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs as the music fades out.

You're staring at each other, both of you knowing exactly what is coming next, as she belts out the healed version of "I kissed someone new last night, and now I don't care where your sleeping baby," Christian presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft and slow, and without a moment's hesitation you grip your fingertips into his t-shirt as you melt into the kiss; his lips slotting perfectly against yours, just as you had imagined they would. Suddenly, it feels like all of the pieces have fallen into place.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, "I love you, y/n" he says quietly, only loud enough for you to hear. A couple of tears fall from your eyes, as you nod and say "I love you too, Christian."

"No, baby, I need you to understand what I'm saying. I'm in love with you, I am desperately in love with you," he says as he bumps his nose against yours.

"I know, and I'm in love with you too," you grin, a squeal escaping your lips as he picks you up and spins you around.

"Stay in Italy with me, I can't bare for you to leave me," he says as he pulls you closer to him, burying his face into your neck, "we can both start over here, and we can start building a life together," he says hesitantly, searching your features for an answer he is hoping will be yes.

You nod and he crashes his lips back to yours in a much heavier yet still reserved kiss considering you are in public.

"So you're staying," he mumbles against your lips.

"I'm staying" you grin, "until you're sick of me."

"That's never going to happen sweetheart," he smiles sweetly, "never."

Tag list:

@chelseagirl98 @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14

[upslapmeal]

Notes from the Taskmaster 16x10 recording

The last two episode recordings I went to, I meant to make comprehensive notes when I got home afterwards that I would be able to look back at and post when the episode aired. I did not, in fact, end up doing that. So this time I was determined to have lots of notes, and made them on the go in the breaks in recording. However. They were made in a rush and I never went back through them to pad them out (you'd really think I would have learned by now). So instead of just having to rely on my memory, I ended up with an almost coded list of words and phrases that it's taken me pretty much 2 weeks to sit down and decipher lol. So with that said:

the pre-episode Greg-Alex entertainment was Greg getting Alex to sing a song about a recent news story to the tune of a song suggested by the audience - in this case it was Trump's lawsuit (the one in May 2023 since there are...a few) to the tune of Wuthering Heights

Alex really went for the whole live thing, and was constantly referring to it throughout the episode

when the contestants came onstage, I obviously first saw Sam in his bright colours and blond hair

we were right on the back balcony and my first impression from that distance was that he kinda looked like Jamie Laing lol

Greg made a passing comment about how he's been dressing in grey but I was completely taken by surprise when the vt rolled and he looked completely different!

I had assumed he'd actually buzzed his hair and didn't realise it was a wig until the ep aired

Sue made comments throughout the episode about how Sam looked like Dahmer

Lucy's prize task story, unsurprisingly, went on for ages and included a whole story about the holiday they went on that I tragically cannot remember

I was so glad they didn't cut 'untaffled' because I looked through my notes before again before watching the episode and couldn't for the life of me remember what she'd said

Greg's said that his immediate response to naked Alex in the prize task was that he was 'smooth like an eel'

After Julian's prize task there was a discussion about how people wanted to be buried, and at one point (I wish I could remember the conversation leading up to this) either Greg or Alex said they would be buried 'together forever in the Victoria monument'

There was a whole long debate about whether Sam intended to use nature as part of his doughnut task, and whether the bird toppling Ms Doughnut to her death should be counted

Greg told Sam to 'convince me to give you 3 points'

Sam went on talking about how amazing nature is and how we're all connected and at one point said 'consider the statistics.....3000' (I'm 99% sure this is what he said and I didn't just forget the rest of the quote)

Julian's exercise name was absolutely not a one-off, to the point they started running a 'cunt count' for the episode

Sue talked about how she had recently had an ADHD diagnosis, and that she kept viewing tasks holistically rather than paying attention to the details. This was specifically in relation to the exercise where she just did the same thing 4 times

I'm not sure if we saw the full extended version of Hotel Taskmaster, but we definitely saw a cut that included more than the aired version (though tbh I think they do that for most tasks and I just noticed this one bc we got the extended version)

We got an 'I put it to you' from Greg that Alex-as-Qrs looked genuinely cool

Lucy described Alex as having 'tight metallic buns' which Greg later referred to as his 'robot arse'

I cannot stress how much of a breakdown Susan had in the studio about the forks and marbles - you get a glimpse in the episode but that was nothing!

Susan also took AGES to do her throw in the live task - she kept on being about to throw before being interrupted, or saying her arms were too short, or that she needed a wee, or having a fit of giggles, and the longer it went the worse it got lol

Greg and Alex also had a go at it, and Sue wanted another go without the pressure. Greg and Sue got the ball in but Alex didn't

Don't ask me to remember the context, but at one point during the record, Greg told a story about someone he knew (whose name he said he would tell the others backstage) who would have sex in a cow mask and would demand 'LOOK AT ME!!!'. Anyway that was referred back to a few times in the ep

When Sam was given the trophy he just stood near-motionless with it for what felt like ages before we got to the hugs and everything

And now we enter the magical world of ~what on earth was this note referring to~ where I just hope someone else who was there (@politicalprocrastinator how's your memory?) sees this and can fill me in on what I've forgotten:

At some point around the prize / first task I wrote 'correct dog guess'. Whose dog? What was being guessed? Absolutely no idea

At some point there was a joke about the 'former Prime Minister', I think the idea being that by the time the episode aired we'd inevitably have a new PM? but I honestly can't remember

Someone called someone else submissive in a way notable enough for me to have written 'submissive' as a one-word bullet point, but not notable enough for me to actually remember

And now three bullet points which I will present in their original form:

Birthday

Bum hole in back

Get in bath

[jerzwriter]

Tobias took his friend Casey to his hometown of Washington, DC, to show her how they did the holidays. She was impressed, but now it was time to show him how it was really done in her hometown of Philadelphia. As they spend time surrounded by Christmas magic, will they be able to keep their promise to be "just friends?"

Book: Open Heart Characters: Tobias Carrick & Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,700 A/N: This is an altered version of a fic I wrote in 2022... but as I'm finally filling in the gaps of my Tobias/Casey headcanon, I needed to make some changes. If you're following the HC, this story would take place after Part Two: With a Capitol T. Part three will be about the last leg of their trip, and the epilogue will follow. I originally posted these as one ridiculously long fic... crazy town. lol I'm also in the process of updating my Tobias/Casey masterlist to make this a little less confusing... for me, more than you! lol. Thanks to anyone who checks this out!

Series Masterlist | Tobias x Casey Masterlist Masterlist

The day after their DC adventure, they slept in a bit. Casey had assured Tobias that while there was plenty to see during the day, the real Christmas magic in Philly took place at night, so a little more sleep wasn't just doable—she encouraged it!

When they arrived, she immetiately treated him to her favorite bagels to start the day, then it was time for a daylight stroll through Christmas Village.  Tobias was duly impressed. The tiny shops had an old-world charm, right in the middle of a bustling city, but Casey told him...

“You haven’t seen anything yet! Just wait until tonight!"

Philadelphia’s City Hall was a grand structure that was breathtaking no matter the time of year, but like everything else, during the holidays, it was spectacular. Surrounded by a cornucopia of holiday treats, it couldn't help but bring out the child in them. Casey was eager to ice skate, but Tobias passed. Still, he was happy to watch her twirl. He had no problem joining her on the Ferris wheel, taking in the sights of the City from high above, before they headed to Macy’s for the Christmas Light Show. Not one to pass up a chance to shop, Tobias spent a little more time there than Casey had budgeted for, but the good thing? By the time they left, darkness had fallen upon the City of Brotherly Love, and Tobias stood in awe in the center of it. Casey was one hundred percent right. As beautiful as it had been during the day, nothing could compare to now. 

It felt like they had stepped into a Christmas movie, with the aroma of roasted chestnuts filling the air as carolers sang Christmas songs nearby. There were plenty of harried shoppers pushing through the crowds, but for every one of them, there seemed to be a dozen others who were casually strolling around, soaking in the wonders of the season. Laughing families with tired toddlers in strollers or sitting atop their father’s shoulders, coworkers giggling over mulled cider, and couples – couples of every age strolled by hand in hand, often stopping to take a picture in front of the iconic LOVE sculpture. Tobias closed his eyes and took in a long breath - it truly was Christmastime. This was a feeling he was certain was only a part of his past. Sure, he had enjoyed holiday parties, happy hours with friends, and the like, but this... this was different, and he wanted to commit every second to memory.

“Excuse me,” a young woman's voice interrupted Tobias from his reverie. “Would you mind taking our picture?" She asked, motioning to the gentleman by her side. "Selfies are great and all, but they only go so far.”

“'I'd be delighted,” he smiled, removing a gove to better grasp her phone. He took one picture, then another, and egged them on a bit before snapping the third. "Oh, come on, give her a little kiss! On the count of three! One, two...” Snap!

The couple thanked him profusely before walking away, and he found himself unsettled by the emotion welling up inside him... was that... envy? His mind began to wander, and he could almost picture walking through the city clutching Casey’s hand; she'd stop them in their tracks to reach up and kiss his cheek, walking arm in arm; an older couple would stop them to declare how they remind them of themselves when they were younger. It was a picture that was as enticing as it was terrifying, but he couldn't shake the image if he wanted to, and in reality, he didn't want to. But a tap on his shoulder from none other than the subject daydream brought him back to reality, and he only hoped she couldn't read his mind.

“Ready to head to City Hall again?” she asked, handing him a pretzel purchased from a street vendor. "You’ll see; it’s a different world once the sun goes down.”

“Lead the way, princess,” he smiled, fighting the visceral urge to take her hand. “Lead the way.”

~~~~~

“OK,” he admitted as the imposing historic building awash in colorful lights came into their view, “and it is not easy for me to do... but you win. Christmas in Philly is pretty amazing.”

“Yey!!” she squealed, jumping up and down like a child who had just won a treasured prize. She had Tobias mesmerized, and her eyes landed on him; he was smiling. Not any smile, but that smile that made his dimples stand out, where his eyes crinkled, and then she'd just melt. She quickly looked away. She had to. She may have been loathe to admit it, but she was well aware of the effect that smile had on her, and no. There was no way she was going there.  “And you haven’t even seen the tree lit up at night yet,” she said, attempting self-distraction. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it!”

“Wait, you’re not gonna gloat?”

“No,” she smiled. “I’m just so happy to see you experiencing this all for the first time... to share it with you. I wanted you to feel the magic, too.”

“Oh, trust me, Casey, I feel it. This is something I'll never forget."

They arrived at the Town Hall tree, and once again, Tobias was forced to surrender. “Wow! OK. I’m giving up completely... your tree wins.”

“Ha!” she yelled, nudging his shoulder with hers. “I told you so!”

“Hey, what happened to no gloating!”

She looked up at him with a devilish glint. “Can you just give me this, Carrick?"

He hoped his eyes would not betray him. I would give you anything, he thought but settled with saying, "Sure. You can have this."

“Thank you! I mean, it is the greatest Christmas tree in the world, so..."

“Yeah, no,” a booming voice shouted out from behind, bursting the little bubble they had created

Casey turned around with a cocked brow and hand on her hip. Her Philly attitude is on full display. “Excuse me?” she challenged.

“I mean, this is nice and all, but if you want to see the best in the world, ya gonna have to head to New York."

Crossing her arms in defiance, she glared at the entirely too-tall stranger. "I don’t believe you.”

“Have you ever seen it?”

“Uhm, no... not in person.”

“Then you can’t judge, can you?" The man smirked. "I’m a New Yorker. TRUST me on this.”  

“Well, if it’s so great... what are you doing here?”

“Ehh… my wife is from Philly,” he shrugged. “I have to indulge her every now and again.”

“Well, how kind of you,” Casey replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Hey,” the man chuckled jovially, “Happy wife, happy life.  And, while New York may have the best Christmas tree, I will concede Philly has the best women!” He slapped Tobias on the shoulder with such force he had to stop himself from stumbling forward. “Isn’t that right, buddy?”

Casey and Tobias turned to each other, deer caught in the headlights. Casey’s wit seemed to drain from her, along with the color on her face, as Tobias turned back to the man, trying to recover.

“While I don’t disagree with you, she’s not my wife... not even my girlfriend... we’re just friends.”

Casey didn't understand the way her throat clenched or why her eyes filled with water at his words, but the man took a long look at her, then Tobias, and smiled. "“Well, I’d get to work on that if I were you, pal. Capiche? Happy Holidays, you two.”

Casey’s cheeks were redder than the bows adorning the massive tree, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Unable to look at Tobias, she peered down at her Uggs as if they had an answer. Wiggling her toes in the soft fleece, she struggled for something to say. But as she looked away, Tobias's eyes never left her. He could have been honest about his feelings, or he could have uttered any of the dozen bad jokes he had at the ready to defuse the situation, but he couldn't do either. Honesty wasn't an option, but neither was lying about his true feelings. There was a wall of fire burning between them, but neither would risk getting burned.

“I have an idea,” he said, attempting to put them both at ease.

“What’s that?” Casey asked gratefully.

“Let’s put this ‘greatest Christmas tree of all’ thing to rest once and for all.  What do you say we swing by New York on the way home tomorrow.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t joke about things like this.”

Casey bit her lip as she smiled. “I’d love to!”

“So we have a plan for tomorrow! But what do you want for the rest of the night?”

“Let’s take a ride down 13th Street. You have to see those lights! They don't call it the Miracle on 13th Street for nothing! Then... cookies and a movie at the hotel? If we’re adding New York to the itinerary, we should probably rest up.”

“If medicine doesn’t work out for you, you have a career as a cruise director, kid,” he grinned. “Let’s go.”

An hour later, they sat on the couch in their hotel room, a bowl of popcorn and a plateful of cookies within reach as they watched “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Exhausted, Casey had to lie down, placing her feet on Tobias’s lap. Unsure how to react, he rested his hand atop her ankle and exhaled when she didn't balk.

Look, Daddy. Teacher says, every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings. That's right, that's right!

The movie concluded and delivered a lump the size of coal in TObias's throat. “You know, I am man enough to admit... that damn line gets me every time.”

But Casey didn’t answer; she had fallen fast asleep.  With a tender smile, Tobias slipped off the couch to retrieve a blanket. There was no sense waking her. After tucking it around her, he leaned over to place the most delicate kiss atop her head.

“Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered before heading to bed. "Sweet dreams."

~~~~~

Casey was absolutely giddy when she hopped into Tobias’s car the next morning.

“I can’t believe we’re going to New York, too! This has been the greatest trip,” she enthused. “It really feels like Christmas, doesn’t it, T?”

“It sure does,” he softly smiled.

“How long is the drive?” She asked

“Once we’re on the NJ Turnpike, we’re looking about two hours.”

“Great!” she beamed. “That gives us plenty of time for holiday music!”

They made it ten minutes before Mariah Carey belted out of the surround sound in Tobias's car. (Can one really go longer than that without hearing Mariah during this season?) Casey amped up the volume, and then it happened! Her voice may have been off-key; her “seat dancing” technique was nothing anyone would ever wish to emulate, but she grabbed her empty coffee cup as an improvised microphone and gave one hell of a performance for her imaginary crowd. Meanwhile, her live audience of one was grinning from ear to ear.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need Don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree I don’t need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace Santa Claus won’t make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true All I want for Christmas is yoooooooooouuuuuuuuuuu.”

“You’re gonna give Mariah a run for her money,” Tobias chuckled. 

“Really,” Casey winced. “I’m pretty sure she’d tell me to keep my day job…. Well, once I’m back at my day job."

“Hey! You’re getting closer every day,” he reassured. “You’ll be back to Ethan driving you bonkers in no time.”

“Hmm. When you put it that way it sounds odd to say I hope so, but I do hope so. Still, until then, I have a gig in this car and I take my obligations very seriously!"

She looked up at him with an endearing smile. "Don't worry! I promise to buy you a huge bottle of Advil as soon as we hit the City!”

“No need,” he laughed, pointing to his glove compartment. “There are some in there, but I don’t need them.”

“Good,” Casey smiled. “Next up, Santa Claus is Coming to Town!”

She began singing the song, a la Bruce Springsteen, but she had no idea how much Tobias agreed. Seeing Casey this happy? Santa was not coming to town, he had already arrived and delivered the greatest gift he had ever received.

Final stop coming up: New York! 🍎

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging Tobias Stans only - @alj4890 @kyra75 @coffeeheartaddict2 @brycesgirl @icecoffee90 @storyofmychoices

[everything-person]

Kazoos Advent Calendar

@kazoosandfannypacks Day

Todays gift is based on “12 Dates of Christmas” abc family movie.

On the 12 day of Christmas my true love gave to me

“I hate this song.”

“It’s the holiday version of 99 bottles. Speaking of bottles. Why don’t me and you get out of here and get a drink?”

Bella glared at the office creep until he walked away with his tail tucked between his legs. Returning to her phone as she shouts over her shoulder, “Killian when did Pan say we could leave?”

“When the party was over.”

“Are you planning on joining us?”

“Be there in a moment,” Killian shouted from his cubical. Picking up his phone dialing the number he’s been thinking about all day.

“Hey Milah. It’s Killian. I was just calling wondering if we could share Smee for Christmas. I haven’t seen him for a couple of months. Just give me a call and let me know.” Killian hung up the phone as one of his coworkers dropped his secret Santa gift on his desk.

Ripping the wrapping paper revealed a Nicholas Sparks book. Grabbing the rest of his stuff he jumped up and ran to join the rest of the holiday party.

"Hey," he called getting the attention of his dancing coworker, "Stop that. Would a woman like a Nicholas Sparks book for Christmas?"

"Yeah."

"Sure."

"Totally."

"No. Not really. Get her wine."

Killian shoved the book into a coworkers hands muttering, "Merry Christmas." Before grabbing Bellas hand and leaving.

"You know what I got for Secret Santa?" Bella asked as they walked down the street.

"Hmm?"

"Jam. Freaking jam."

"Jam isn't bad."

"I hate jam."

"It's the thought that counts."

"There was no thought."

"I like jam."

The petite blonde turned and looked at Killian, "Oh my god! It was from you!"

Killian scratched behind his ear, "I forgot about secret santa. I grabbed the first thing I saw."

"Socks would've been better."

"Your real present is coming tomorrow. I apologize lass. I have just been distracted."

"By what?"

Killian hesitated before saying, "The holidays."

"Meaning Milah."

"I called her today." Killian steered them into a mall.

"You holiday dialed your ex?"

"Excuse me?"

"Its like drunk dialing but during the holidays and more pathetic. You can't blame that call on rum."

"It's not pathetic and you need to help me find a present for her."

As they entered the first shop Bella turns and asks, "How do you know she will even want to see you?"

"It's the holidays. We love the holidays," Killian explained. Remembering how they mostly loved how the holidays were an excuse to stay at home in bed with each other.

"News flash," Bella shouted at him interrupting his day dream, "You aren't a 'we' anymore."

"We will be after tonight," Killian stated firmly.

"You're delusional," Bella muttered while looking at a rack of coats.

"I prefer optimistic. Now help me find a gift."

"Whats the rush?"

"I have a blind date at 5." Killain threw over his shoulder as he made his way to a display of jewelry.

That caught his friends attention.

"You have a blind date and you're meeting Milah?" Bella stormed over beside him.

"The blind date isn't going anywhere."

"How do you know? You haven't even met the poor girl."

"It was set up by my dads friend."

Bella rolled her eyes, "You mean by Maia his wife. Killain they've been married for 10 years. They have a son. Your half brother."

"AH HA!" Killian snatched a box holding gold diamond earrings, "What do you think of those?"

Bella took a look at the price, "Their 250$."

"Nothing says miracle like diamonds."

Bella looked between Killian and the earrings, "I'm out. You are my best friend and I love you platonically. But I will not stand by and encourage your insanity. I'm going back to the holiday party."

Killian turned his gaze to her at that, "Why?"

"You have a blind date and your crazy optimism. I have Felix in security."

Killian winced, "You're better than that."

Bella rolled her eyes, "Right back at ya. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas."

Killian paid for the earrings then made his way through the mall hoping to find the Christmas wrappers. As he stepped off the escalator there were christmas caroler singing to his left as he turned her was hit with a strange scent and wet spray. The world began to spin and then went black.

The next thing he knew he woke up on the floor with a tan elderly man and a black woman standing over him.

"Are you alright?" the man spoke in a gruff voice.

"I spritzed you and you passed out."

Killian began sitting up.

"Oh wow. Be careful now," The gentleman warned grabbing his arms to hep him up. "Has this ever happened to you before?"

"Uh no. This hasn't." Killian thought for a moment before speaking again, "I haven't eaten today. Must be low blood sugar."

"Maybe you should take it easy."

"Thanks mate but I'm fine." Killian continued walking.

He finally made it out of the mall, passing a man trying desperately to untangle lights, to his apartment. He was welcome to the sight of his buildings elevator broken. After marching up the stairs he made it to his apartment door, before he could unlock the door his neighbor, a sweet old lady who insisted on most everyone calling her Granny, cornered him.

"Elevator still broken. Super says it'll be fixed by the new year but I wouldn't hold your breath. Anyways I made you a cherry chip loaf."

Killian was finally able to get his door open, turning he took the offered gift thanked the woman before closing the door behind him.

His apartment phone blinked red indicating he had a message. He pressed the button hoping to hear the voice of his ex but was instead greeted with the voice of a different woman.

'Hey Killian. It's Emma your blind date for the evening. Um just calling to say I got your message about the Rabbit Hole. Sounds good to me so I guess I'll see you at 5.'

Killian threw the cake his neighbor just gave him on the counter then went to change out of his office attire and into something more suitable for his date. When he felt he was dressed appropriately headed on his way.

He entered the bar first thing he sees is a rather large gentleman staring expectantly at the door.

"You look like a man that has been waiting for a miracle."

"I have a blind date."

"Oh please tell me you aren't waiting for someone named Killian."

The man grimaced, "No a Phyllis."

"Killy?"

Killian turned his gaze to a stunning blonde in a pink dress, "Emma?"

She flashed him a blinding smile as he approached her.

"And it's Killian."

"Sorry. Maia told me-"

"It's fine. It's something we are working on." Killian brushed her off as they took a seat.

"You look relieved," Killian commented.

"Yeah well you never know with blind dates."

Just then a waitress came over and dropped off two drinks, "Oh I ordered for you. I hope that's alright."

"I'm actually not a beer man."

Emma cocked her head to the side, "Its not a beer it's a logger."

"I just never fancied it."

"It was a shot in the dark. Why not try something new?"

He turned to the waitress and asked for a rum. He turned back to the blonde and offered a smile as she fidgeted in her seat.

"This is going well," Killian commented trying to subtly look at his phone that he placed on the table.

Emma let a giggle slip from her lips, "Not awkward at all."

"So Killian what do you do? Maia wasn't willing to give any details about you other than you're a handsome gentleman."

Killian turned away at the compliment, "If it makes you feel any better she was the same with information about you. Only saying that you were a lovely lass that I just had to meet."

"I hope I don't disappoint."

Killian looked down at his phone again before answering her question, "I working in shipment. I keep track of what packages go where and which shipping containers they go in."

"That sounds-"

"Boring? Aye." He looked down at his phone again.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No why?"

"You keep looking at your phone."

Before he could speak his phone began going off. He rushed to pick it up muttering an excuse me before answering it.

"Hello? Milah? My place? Give me a moment." He pulled the phone away from his ear turning to his date who's face had scrunched up a bit.

"Would you mind if we pick this up another time?"

"Whos Milah?" Emma leaned back in her seat crossing her arms over her chest.

"My Ex."

Emma waved him off as she got out of her seat grabbing her leather jacket off the back of the chair, "Go. It was nice to meet you Killian."

She stormed out of the bar before Killian could speak another word. Pressing the phone back to his ear he confirmed with Milah to meet up with her at his apartment building. A half an hour later he was standing outside his building.

"Killian?"

He turned around to see a dark haired woman approaching him. The woman he has been waiting all night for. When they met they smiled at each other and leaned in for a polite kiss on the cheek.

"I brought Max like you asked. I think he missed you."

"I missed him too. Great we can spend the night the three of us."

A dog bark turned their attention to behind them. Killian looked to see max being held by a strange man.

"Killian this is Robert. We are heading to a cabin and thought you could watch Max for us."

Killian looked between the man and the woman in front of him.

"It's a little cold." The man said handing off the leash to Milah, "I'll just wait in the car."

As the man walked off Killian turned back to Milah. "Who's he?"

"Killian-"

"How long?"

"3 months. We knew each other in highschool. We reconnected and really-"

"Connected." Killian paused before asking his next question, "Do you love him?"

Milah took a breath in before say, "Yeah I do."

Killian just nodded taking the leash from her, "Thank you again for bringing Smee I really did miss him."

Without waiting for her response he made his way down the street to his own car starting the trek to his fathers.

Killian sat in an armchair in the living room as his father and Maia talked about how disappointed they were Liam couldn't be there tonight with Elsa and the grandchildren but Will should be there first thing in the morning for presents.

"You are staying the night Killian right?" Maia asked.

"Sure he will. We'll open gifts Christmas morning just like how we used to." his father chimed in patting him on his shoulder.

"Dad nothing is like it used to be. Not since moms passing."

Brennan glanced at Maia who's face had fallen slightly. Just then the phone rang, Maia stepped out to answer it.

"Killian that was rather rude."

Killian shook his head, "Dad you're wife died and you found a replacement. But I won't replace my mom."

Brennan leaned forward meeting his sons eye, "Maia isn't trying to replace anyone."

Just then Maia stepped back into the room, "That was Emma. She said you blew her off for another woman."

"Killian."

"That wasn't my intention-"

"Emma is the sweetest girl. She deserved better than that."

"I will call her tomorrow, offer a sincere apology, and try to reschedule our date."

Maia scoffed, "That ship has sailed. And I'll tell you it was one hell of a ship. You can't go back and fix this."

Not wanting to deal with anymore disappointed comments or glares Killian decided it was his time to leave.

Once home he quickly stripped out of his clothes threw on some sweat pants and cuddled up in bed them smee resting at his feet.

Nearing midnight Smee shifted, his paw landing on the remote turning on Killians tv. An infomercial played across the screen of a partridge broach warning customers of the sale that will end at midnight. As the clock turned to 12:00 something strange happened. The partridge broach began to glow. The light encompassing the entire room and the clock began to turn back.

Killian opened his eyes and he was once again greeted with the sight of a elderly tan man and a black woman standing over him as carolers sang in the distance.

"I spritzed you and you passed out," the black woman explained.

Killian furrowed his eyebrows, "What the bloody hell?"

[penroseparticle]

1, 2?

Unironically I knew you would ask me the two best questions on this whole damn list, thank you Izzy for being the GOAT.

Song of the year? God what songs even came out this year. I don't think this year was a year where new music happened for me. (One of the biggest hits this year was... Fast Car. Do you remember that??? What???) I'm a little tempted to say Fast Car, but that's cheating on Ms. Tracy Chapman, who is unimpeachably the best version of the song (And wouldn't it kind of suck if the song of the year was just. An inarguably well done but ultimately less meaningful rendition of a song from like 45 years ago) If I can pick songs that I encountered this year but didn't come out this year, I could go on for a while. Lonely by Jamila Woods, All My Girls Like To Fight by Hope Tala, Get Down by Woozy. I think Van Gogh by Mette is great but not the song of the year for me, certainly. Rush by Troye Sivvy? It's more honest but doesn't feel right to me totally. Is It New Years Yet has new toy syndrome, AND it's a holiday song, AND it's a Sabrina Carpenter song that complains about overplayed music. Like. Self aware much? And also means it can kick rocks because that is NOT song of the year material. But I like music with a groovy influence, I'm a little corny, and I can't lie about this kinda thing. I categorically refuse to put Build a Boat on my top anything list, regardless of Spotify telling lies about my listening habits. (This is me lying about this kinda thing). I don't want to repeat a year in review song, either, which kinda makes this harder. I guess I gotta give it to You Wish by Flyana Boss, because it's the only song that's not 1. on my year end list, or 2. a song that had a reservation/caveat/well, actually attached to it.

Album of the year? My two top albums of this year were Something To Give Each Other and Jaguar II, but I have to give it up to Victoria Monet honestly- I didn't take to a piece of music this fast since when I saw Young Empires open for Reptar and fell in love on the first song of the set. I listened to Smoke and I was hooked- maybe it's the drug culture references but joyful and openly honest, maybe it's the slick production and variety on the album, maybe it's that it's not afraid to be goofy as hell ("I'm so deep in my bag, like a grandma with a peppermint" is quite possibly an all timer goofy lyric that still hits the right timber for the braggadocio it's placed as in the song, "It's a bisexual blunt it can go both ways" is just. so fuckin stupid, I love it.), maybe it's the features (Lucky Daye? EARTH WIND AND FIRE???), maybe it's the touch of old hollywood glamour at the end and the clear love of motown sensibilities juxtaposed with her talking about her 4K titties. I don't know man, it just rewired my brain but in a good way. More than that, Victoria made me cognizant of her in the stuff I already liked. Like. She has writing credits/backing vocal credits for Ariana Grande. I CAN HEAR HER IN THE SONGS SHE HELPED WRITE. She's goofy and sexy and has some fun production preferences, and I can hear her sometimes now even when she's composing/producing for other artist. I haven't been able to peg a pop writer this hard since good ol' jackie, and that's because he's everywhere and also in like 3 solo projects and also Taylor Swift's silver bullet. But like I can directly point to how much she worked on Thank You Next and the all time greatest Ariana album, Dangerous Woman. She helped write Body Count, Sin City, On The Way... all songs I liked by other artists, but didn't realize who, you know, helped make. This is not to say I didn't love Troye Sivan this year- and both these artists made my year end retrospective. I really dig Troye's album (Though I run into the issue I have with a lot of albums where I like but don't love the second half of it, which is why Victoria took the W.). Give the songs In My Room or What's The Time Where You Are a listen for sure. It's just. so hard to find an album you unironically vibed with. Unashamedly and openly. I honestly don't care if anyone else likes this album, because I loved it. I'll stream it enough for all of us, a bitch might buy it on vinyl Anyways sorry for running on so long, it's Jaguar II by Victoria Monet, because if we have to say Goodbye, let's make it a Good Bye is something I want to live by now that I've heard it.

[streetlights-all-turn-blue]

About the things Paul writes feeling true - that was what I meant, you put in into better words. It's relatable. My dad had the Sounds of Silence album too! I remember going through his records and seeing that one. I might have listened to it, but it's been so long since I've been able to listen to any vinyl. (And the marrying thing ... I might not have honestly thought I would marry him but my friend and I were still super into The Monkees and dreamed about being with Peter and Mike, so ... I feel that, haha.) As far as Beatles albums ... my favorites are Revolver, Magical Mystery Tour, Abbey Road & Let It Be. I have good memories of all of them. Abbey Road & Let It Be were on the same tape someone made for our family when I was growing up, and we played it a lot when we were doing chores, so whenever I hear those albums I feel like I want to clean up ... do you have any music like that? Albums or songs that make you feel like you have to do something in particular?

Do you have any favorite holiday albums/songs or films? My mom was obsessed with Christmas stuff growing up so I'm kind of burnt out on a lot of it. I like chill instrumental holiday music for the most part, but I also like some of the rock/oldies songs. My stepmom used to do a thing where everyone in the house picked a movie that would get packed away with the Christmas decorations, so we could only watch it at that time of year. She and my dad even put their own movies in there. Mine was Yellow Submarine! They even put a yellow sub ornament on their tree for me every year.

Hope you've had a good Thursday! 🌼

I love that your family had Sounds of Silence on vinyl when you were growing up! Do you feel like your musical taste was very influenced by your parents? I feel like there are threads of my parents’ preferences in my taste, like my dad loves The Who and The Beach Boys and we had the soundtrack to American Graffiti playing on the record player constantly. My mom is a big classical/classical adjacent fan and I still listen to that music a lot and grew up doing violin and piano and singing in chorus.

Abbey Road and Rubber Soul i think are my favorite Beatles albums but I also really love A Hard Day’s Night and Help! I definitely have albums that remind me of doing specific things - when one of my friends from growing up got her drivers license we drove around blasting REM and so I always feel like i should go on a drive when i hear them.

I like holiday music a lot and particularly holiday music that’s on the more classical side. Pop holiday music is fun but i don’t really choose to listen to it - do the holiday songs that Simon & Garfunkel did count here? I really love listening to them and their songs Comfort and Joy and Star Carol, and their Silent Night layered over the news clips. My favorite holiday album is probably one called Songs of Joy and Peace by Yo-Yo Ma. He plays the cello with some popular artists like James Taylor and does several versions of Dona Nobis Pacem with the various instrumentalists that are all unique and pretty. I also like listening to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons a lot during the holidays for some reason! I like your holiday movie tradition! I think we watched The Sound of Music a lot at the holidays while growing up? I am not sure if it was just playing or whether my parents picked this!

Thanks for chatting - hope you had a good weekend!

[hyperpotamianarch]

All right, dipping into the discourse: hey, guys, you are aware that most tunes you mention are... well, many prayers have multiple tunes. The Chabad version of Ha'Aderet VeHa'emunah is, IIRC, a march - the Napoleon March, to be exact. Then there is the tune that is usually used for specific lines like HaMeluchah VeHamemshalah ("Hameluchah. VeHamemshalah. Hamluchah VeHamemshalah L'Chai Olamim..."), or the slow one I was used to from the Yeshivah. Describing tunes and music in words is insufficient. So, I intend to attempt and add links.

This is the most likely candidate to Sim Shalom, I think. With how common it is, you'd expect it to be the first result, but nope.

I don't really know to which Mihu Melekh HaKavod you mean. I could probably try find the most likely candidate, but honestly... Sometimes, conveying the tunes right requires recording yourself. Which I'm not going to do just yet.

This is the Niggun I knew as the Chabad version of Ha'Aderet VeHa'emunah. Another version that I've only heard on Simchat Torah is this, and this is the one that was sung every Shabbat in Se'udah Shelishit in my Yeshivah. This, on the other hand, is the one on HaMeluchah VeHamemshalah that I know, also usually sung at Simchat Torah.

This, on the other hand, is a song I came to love lately, called Chai Hashem UVaruch Tzuri. It's a song for Shabbat morning that I heard in a couple of Yeshivahs and really liked. I could add many others, really, but it would skew things to Ashkenazi Zemirot. So if anyone around Jumblr would like to add some Mizrahi Zemirot - please do!

(Also, the best holiday is always the one we're on. Sure, my family can attest to how much I ramble about my Purim costume, but Sukkot is also very fun! As is Hannukah, Pesach and Shavuot. Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur are... a bit different, and Tu BiShvat doesn't really count. Neither does Lag Ba'Omer.)

Oh, and Matzah is great, don't listen to the people complaining about it being cardboard. If our ancestors ate it for a month until the Manna came and found it tasty - we can too. Maybe we can taste in it the Manna flavour their Matzot had! (See Kiddushin 38A, link from Sefaria.)

Enough posts arguing with antisemites, we need to return to our roots and argue with each other. Here are some opinions I have, prove me wrong

Sweet kugel is gross and a food crime

Sim shalom is the best blessing/prayer like tune wise - goes fucking hard at shul when everyone does like the split lyric thing and we met up at the end

Purim is the best holiday

Matzoh fucking slaps

Matzoh ball soup is a year round dish, shouldn't only be eaten on pesach

Matzoh brei should not have eggs and should be cooked in a shit ton of butter

The reuben sandwich is the best recent food invented by a jew

[time-is-standing]

top 10 songs of december

aka end another year with me :)

1. SPIT IN MY FACE! by ThxSoMch

well... this song stirred up so many emotions in me through the last month of the year. therapy has been going places and I've been trying to feel anger and all the things I never could before. anyways it helped me and I am real thankful for that.

2. astrid by glaive

this song is in the top 5 of my yearly recap even though I only found it in autumn. this describes how much I love it, I could listen to it all day long and never get bored of the song.❤️

3. I'm Okay I Swear by Presence

oh, this one. I have been feeling pretty low and there were tough times where I only found comfort in this one. I'm not really sure why, but I became addicted to the beat and the melody.

4. engravings by Ethan Bortnick

this one I found accidentally and was mesmerised by the first few seconds. such a special song with so much meaning behind the words.

"i'll put my hand up on your chest, so you forget your engravings"

5. too much by Softheart, guccihighwaters

this one is still on the list and I still love it to bits. I have some kind of attachment and love the lyrics so so much.

6. Miss You - Sped Up Version by Oliver Tree

I listened to some songs from my recap and fell in love with them again. this is one of the gems I rediscovered when the wrapped came out.

7. Sick of U by BoyWithUke, Oliver Tree

boywithuke stole my heart a couple of years ago and from time to time I search him up again to catch up with his songs. I love this one just as much as the others. it's quite unique and has a great vibe.

8. NDA by Billie Eilish

I found this one again after the recap and though about some crazy memories. isn't it strange that some people who were my "closest friends" and even more than that just vanished this year and we're nothing more but strangers... yeah.

9. No Wind Resistance SPED UP! by Kinneret

this is a strange concept & song but I fell for it. I listened to it almost all month over & over again. this is from the times when I first started "feeling my emotions" and somehow I find it easier to try while listening to songs that I feel a deeper connection to.

10. Happier by Marshmello, Bastille

"I want you to be happier"

I was counting down the days when we could start the holiday and get to my bf's house for a couple of days. this boy makes every single day a bit easier and gets me so well that I don't really want to spend time with other people anymore.

[michaelmilligan]

Day 22 of B&B's (@drgarth and @starrynightdeancas) Holiday Advent Calendar Event! (Aka you know the drill, it's Midam...)

Christmas Parade//Santa Hats//"Make The Yule-tide Gay"

Michael couldn't believe he was wearing a stupid Santa hat.

Well, he had adjusted his projection so that it would be there, so he supposed that he could believe it. That still didn't mean he was happy about it.

But Adam had insisted. And it was hard to resist when Adam's eyes became so wide and pleading as he asked for something. (Michael had tried reproducing that look in the mirror while in the driver's seat of their body, but on him it just looked weird.) Adam also had a tendency to wrap his soul around Michael's grace, essentially hugging him, when he wanted something. Michael wasn't completely sure if that was instinctual or a conscious decision on Adam's part, but it was hard to stay resolute when Adam's soul radiated both sadness and fondness right against Michael's grace.

And contrary to common belief, Michael wasn't a monster. (No, not even metaphorically.)

(Keep reading under the cut)

So now they were attending something called a 'Christmas parade' while wearing the silly Santa hats. It was moments like this that Michael wondered what his life had come to. Of course, he knew that he was far happier with Adam than he had been as the ruler of Heaven. And he'd had a lot of time to get used to many of the... peculiarities of the human. But that had been in illusions in the cage, not on Earth where they were surrounded by actual people, and could theoretically be spotted by an angel or demon at any moment.

He wasn't sure which one would be worse: Confronting a demon while wearing this thing, or enduring the ridicule of one of his siblings. (At least he could smite the demon.)

“What are you thinking?” Adam took his hand, turning away from the parade for a moment to look at him.

Michael hesitated. “Not much.”

“Oh please. You always think too much, don't tell me this parade has made you zen.”

“I'm not zen. I just don't have many thoughts on...” Michael gestured to a parade truck with the twenty-seventh version of Santa Claus so far. Not that he'd been counting. “... this.”

“So you hate it.” Adam sighed, but leaned into him. “You can just say so, you know.”

“It's fine. Not like it's the worst thing I've ever seen.”

“Wow, you really hate it.” Adam shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “We can leave if you want.”

“But you like this.”

“Yeah, but I like you more.”

“Well, I like you more than I dislike this. Just...” Michael shifted on his feet. “Can I take off the silly hat?”

This time, Adam full out laughed, and he dropped his head on Michael's shoulder, wrapping an arm wrapped around his waist. “Yeah babe, you can take off the hat. I just thought it would be fun for both of us to wear them, but if you're not having fun, take it off.” He pressed a kiss to Michael's jaw.

Relieved, Michael took off the hat and stuffed it in the coat pocket of his projection. It wasn't like he could just make it vanish with all the people around, even if none of them was paying particular attention to them.

“Sorry for making you suffer through the silly hat and the silly parade,” Adam said, more amused than sorrowful.

Michael smiled at him.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

One of the parade trucks had apparently decided that blaring Christmas music at 100 decibel was the right thing to do. Michael was instantly worried about Adam's eardrums.

Let yourself be light

“I think you got that covered,” Adam shouted over the music, grinning and putting a hand on his own chest, just to the right of his heart. It was something he did often, and not always consciously, Michael thought. That was where most of Michael was located in his body, and while Adam should be able to feel him at all times, he seemed to like the reminder, the power thrumming under his hand.

The song had continued, and Adam's grin only widened at his favourite line:

Make the Yuletide gay

“That, we've definitely got covered,” he said, squeezing Michael's hand.

“You're not even gay.”

Adam was attracted to all sorts of genders. 'Pansexual', he called it.

“But you are?” Adam asked in amusement.

Michael didn't even have a gender, at least not that he knew of. So being attracted to the 'same' gender was a somewhat difficult concept. Of course, his siblings mostly addressed Michael as their brother and people tended to use 'he' pronouns for him, not that he minded. But that didn't exactly make him male.

“You said that it was an umbrella term,” Michael said, and smiled when Adam's expression turned soft.

“It is,” Adam assured him. “Or at least it can be.”

It didn't really matter, Michael thought as Adam turned back to the parade, radiating contentedness. Michael wasn't attracted to anyone but Adam anyway and had no great need to label himself. In the privacy of his own mind, he had toyed with the term 'My Adam'-sexual (at first it had been Adam-sexual, but that could have meant any person named Adam, which just wouldn't do). But really, it wasn't of much consequence.

What was important was that Adam was smiling, and holding his hand. And that he still wanted to be with him the next day, and the day after that.

Maybe even forever.

[worst-xmas-song-bracket]

#CORRECT #back when i worked at The Nightmare Retail Store they only had like five songs on the christmas playlist #and they would play on shuffle for the entire eight and a half hours (counting lunch) of each shift #one of those songs was 'the 12 days of christmas' #i swear the version of the song they played was like ten minutes long #and it would play every half hour or so #and if you haven't listened to that song recently i suggest you do #if only to understand my misery #it is incredibly repetitive with virtually no variation in any of it and is mind-numbingly simplistic #and despite the holidays there were still slow times in the store #but we were only allowed to work our particular section and not leave it #and i was a cashier #so i would be standing on register with nothing to do except stand there and wait #and then the opening notes of 'the twelve days of christmas' would play #and i would speedrun all five stages of grief before the lyrics even started #because i would basically be trapped on register with no distractions with the world's most jauntily mind-numbing tune playing on loop #over the course of that holiday season i went from not really noticing when the song was playing #to going 'huh this song kind of plays a lot' #to finding it kind of annoying #to actively groaning every time it started to play #to being put in a miserable and slightly murderous mood every time i heard it #i cannot emphasize enough how awful it was to just be standing around #and then for the umpteenth time that day hear those opening notes #and then just 'on the first day of christmas my true love gave to me: a partridge in a pair tree' #'on the second day of christmas my true love gave to me: two turtle doves and a partridge in a pair tree. on the third day of christmas-' #over and over and OVER #i swear corporate putting that on the very short shuffled playlist should have been classified as psychological class warfare #anyways fuck that song and fuck that entire store

Tags from @underwhelmingalchemist

Oh my god. I'm pretty sure that's a violation of the Geneva Conventions. You have my sincere sympathy.

Second Round (5/16)

[poliwhirl-swirl]

13: Favourite color

17: Favourite food

34: Favourite holiday

37: The reason I joined Tumblr

56: What do I think about most?

73: Favourite animal?

77: How can you win my heart?

79: What is my favorite word?

83: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

137: What was my favourite toy as a child?

151: What do I like about myself

13: I love all shades of blue and I think I'm falling in love with yellow again

17: I fucking love pizza

34: I'm not sure I have a favorite holiday unless my birthday counts lol

37: I think it was because my best friend was on tumblr and she told me to join

56: Way too much honestly. Half the time it's a radio though and I just play random songs lol

73: PENGUINS. I LOVE PENGUINS. Otters are second place

77: I mean. Reassurance, little kisses on my face, pizza. Gummy bears.

79: I feel like it's catalyzed. Because it's really fun to say and I actually use the word more than I should lol

83: Teleportation because I would love to just teleport anywhere whenever I want! I can finally see my friends!

137: Okay so I really loved a specific Cookie Monster toy and it was like he was in a marching band and he had a little trumpet and if you push the button he sang The Saints Go Marching In but if you put the trumpet in his mouth the song would play a trumpet version and it was so fucking cool

151: Even though it's thinning, my hair lol

Thank you for the asks!!!!

[starjunco]

Tagged by @garbria -- making me be reflective, how dare you! :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Right this moment I have 10.

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

23,192. 8,942 of which were posted this week o.o Guess I can be productive...

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Just FFXV. Unless you're counting RPs based on fandoms in which case...six? Possibly more? Fandoms make great quick-start rpgs XD

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Fifth: A tie at 13 between The Goddess' Gift and Adventures Retold: Bedtime Edition. Considering the second has only been up a couple days, we'll give it the place. You can't beat Cor and Prompto bedtime stories. Especially when they're poking fun at the OG Chocobros.

Fourth: Storm Gallows with 14. Random idea that I hadn't planned on writing but just hit me like a truck in the middle of the night. Still, it was my first Nyx fic and first of the Whumptober fics and I'm really happy how it turned out. I'll probably do more in this Wild West AU when I get the time.

Third: Winter Solstice Cocoa with 20. First day of Winter Dad!Cor Week for the prompts of winter holidays and hot chocolate. It turned out very well and I don't think I can do better for pure happy fluff.

Second: Black Knight, White Pawn with 22. Much, much whump. Nyx has a bad day--okay alot longer than a day. My mind flits from one idea or project to the next rapidly, but it's stewing over this again, so hopefully a new chapter soon.

First: Prompto's Wild Ride with 24. I'm glad this one did so well as the first idea I started working on for Whumptober and went through several versions. Cor, Prompto, and a pair of colorful chocobos.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yep. I try to leave them whenever I can think of anything at all too. Kudos are great, but you can't beat comments for encouragement: they're special and personal.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Does an unfinished one count? If it does, Black Knight, White Pawn. The ending will, eventually, be happy, but the chapters until then...

7) Do you ever write crossovers?

Haven't in fic yet. I've combined different fandoms for the convenience of shared reference in rp games.

8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not yet. Hope I won't. There's a huge difference between constructive suggestions and hate after all.

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No, but if I did, I probably wouldn't have the courage to post it, lol.

10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. Don't think it's likely as they haven't been up long. I am curious if there's any search programs out there to check on these things. Maybe anti-plagiarism ones.

11) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Closest thing I've come is A Song of Hearth and Home which isn't co-written but instead inspired by @ertrunkenerwassergeist's awesome fics, using her worldbuilding/history. And it's a poem/song, so not sure if that counts.

12) What’s your all-time favorite ship?

LuNyx, hands down. It's what brought me to the fandom really, especially @annaoi's wonderful art. I also like Crowna (Crowe/Luna). Promptis has grown on me as well.

13) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

FFXV. It's what brought me back to fandom after something like a decade and a half. Not that I wrote back then, but I did read.

14) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oof...uh...that is a really good question? Probably Black Knight, White Pawn or Storm Gallows just because they were fun to write and I got to try out some things with them. Tags...umm...@awlwren if you want to, no pressure

[lalka-laski]

Do you have a dry erase board? I have one on my fridge but I hardly ever use it

What do you remember most from last summer? The past couple years all melt together in my mind, so I'm really not sure.

Where is the last place that you shopped? Uhh... Amazon. Unless you count the iced tea & chips I bought at a rest stop as "shopping."

What kind of shoes did you wear today? I'm wearing these slip-ons that kind of look like old lady orthopedic shoes, but in a cute way?

Have you painted lately? No but I really should.

Which season has the best clothes? I'm inclined to say fall. Or maybe winter because I love a good, sharp jacket.

Do you know about the many uses of coconut oil? Yeah, but it's overhyped. It's multipurpose in the way that a lot of plants are, but it's not a cure-all.

Do you watch Dr. Oz? Nah. He's a sham.

When was the last time you got balloons? I couldn't tell ya

What color is your favorite purse? I don't really have a favorite amongst my purses. Lately I've been using a brown one, so maybe that.

What are your plans for tomorrow? I have the day off so it's TBD. I think I'm gonna try to clean, maybe grocery shop and cook a nice meal.

How was your past Christmas? All my Christmases since I've been dating Glenn have been magnificent.

Do you prefer the game Sorry or Trouble? I was never a big fan of either.

What color are the sheets on your bed? White

Do you prefer pull-over sweatshirts or zip-ups? Crew necks all the way!

Have you ever had quiche? Yeah. Funny story about quiche. For some reason my mom thinks it's one of my favorite foods, and always buys me one for holidays and family functions as a vegetarian option. The truth is, I don't really care for it. I can stomach it, and I always take a small slice to be polite, but I'd be perfectly fine without it.

Have you ever had a conversation with a priest (etc.) outside of church? Yes, a brief one

What do you order when you go to McDonald’s? Grilled cheese if they offer it, or a cheeseburger without the patty, fries, and an Orange Hi-C.

What do you like to put in your coffee? I prefer it black or with just a touch of cream on occasion

What is a political issue you feel strongly about? Abortion and reproductive rights

How often do you have to charge your phone? Probably too often because it's glued to my hand

Do you have a song stuck in your head? Not at the moment

Do you have any yellow shirts? Yeah but it's not my color

When was the last time you wrapped a present? Umm... last Christmas probably

Do you normally win or lose at rock, paper, scissors? No clue

Do you like Fruity Pebbles? I prefer the Wegmans version "Fruity Rice Crisps." They're softer in texture and don't tear up your mouth.

Do you have any stuffed animals from when you were younger? A few!

What is the craziest thing you’ve heard or seen on TV lately? Oh God, take your pick...

Have you ever hyperventilated? Yes

What was your favorite book to read in English class? I'm a book nerd so I can't narrow it down

Do you wear scarves? Occasionally

Are your nails painted? I just ripped off my press-ons this morning Do you like to dress up? I do! But often the expectation I set in my head pales in comparison to how I look in real life and I get bummed

Are you looking forward to anything in the next week? I have a fun weekend ahead! Although I'm still recovering from this past weekend so fingers crossed I get some energy and pep in my step back by Saturday!

Do you buy lottery tickets? Nah. Sometimes people toss them in my birthday cards or something but I've never bought one myself.

What is your favorite flavor of Gatorade? Lemon-lime, light blue, or red. Honestly I like them all!

What feature do you get complimented on most? Hair

What are you planning to do next? Look for another survey. I'm kind of chained to my desk till 11ish this morning so I'll be doing these to pass the time