#imagine spring snow is playing here

[reebmasul]

(a lazy comic to show u the inspo for this art hehe)

a random jeepney encounter turned into ship art !!!

[pshcomforts]

➳ spring snow | psh.

bestfriend!sunghoon x fem!reader

“cause i’m falling slowly in love with you”

synopsis: you came down with a cold and your best friend, sunghoon, has offered to take care of you.

warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff! tiny bit of angst. best friends to lovers. a little bit of idiots in love. nicknames like ‘idiot’ ‘dummy’ and ‘loser’ used. down bad sunghoon <3

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 4.6k

a/n: self-indulgent bc i’m sick right now, and currently obsessed with lovely runner </3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: spring snow by 10cm

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:39 ───|──────────────── 2:42

a cough erupted out of y/n as she fought for her life. her nose was stuffy, and her throat was aching from the cold she randomly caught.

she heavily sighed, cursing to herself for missing an important lecture.

“i should’ve gone..,” she softly whimpered.

as she fumed a little longer, a sudden notification had caught her attention.

sunghoon <3:

Where are you?

Are you running late?

panic spread across her face when she read her best friends texts, quickly typing back with quiet coughs leaving her throat.

y/n:

sorry, hoon! i’m actually not feeling good so i decided to skip the lecture for today…

sunghoon <3:

Are you lying, or are you really sick?

y/n:

why would i lie to you about this..

sunghoon <3:

So you don’t have to hear my scolding? 😒

y/n:

i swear, sunghoon, i’m sick! do you want me to send an audio of me coughing or something..

sunghoon <3:

.. No

the girl breathed out a laugh once she found no more texts from him. she widely grinned as she thought about the handsome boy, easily imagining his displeased look in her head.

her heart fluttered and butterflies erupted in her stomach. she fisted her hands to stop the sensations forming around her body as she shook it off.

“stop it, y/n, he’s just a friend.” she murmured to herself, unable to make the imaginary hoon in her head disappear.

“this cold is really getting to me…,”

y/n huffed out a sigh before wrapping herself in her warm blankets.

“maybe a nap will do..,” her voice squeaked, body already falling on borderline exhaustion. she yawned out a little more before resting her eyes and eventually knocking out.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about a half hour had just passed and the girl was still sound asleep when a few knocks had been heard at the door.

she grumbled out a sigh before checking the time.

“who’d even be here at this time?” she sighed, still finding the sun brightly beaming down on every view she could find.

the knocks had been heard again and she quickly checked to see if anything could be related to whatever was outside. indeed, she found a few missed texts from her beloved friend.

sunghoon <3:

Open the door

Are you asleep??

Hello..?

she exhaled a breath as her stomach flooded with nervous bubbles.

“why is he here..?” she muttered under her breath.

the girl dusted herself, and though she was sure she still looked like a train wreck, she couldn’t be too bothered with how much her sickness took over.

she slowly cracked the door open and found an adorable sunghoon patiently waiting.

“finally!” he shouted. “took you long enough, i was almost gonna call you.”

maybe not that patient.

y/n scrunched her brows in confusion. “why are you even here, hoon?”

his heart slightly dropped at her questioning, but he only nervously laughed it away.

“you’re sick, dummy. you need to be taken care of.” sunghoon murmured, pinching one side of her cheeks.

she quickly swatted the hand away as she still remained puzzled.

“you’re gonna take care of me?” her voice mumbled, causing him to shyly nod. “but you never do this..?”

hoon only sighed as he joked, “well do you want me to leave? because i still can.”

“no, no.. i’m just a little shocked right now.”

y/n’s heart was about to burst. he was fueling her delusions about the potential thought of them being together, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

she heard him give a chuckle when he set his backpack down. “i care about you, y/n. are you that shocked?” his simple grin sent heart throbs, making her tired body tingle even more.

“well you always tease and make fun of me so.. yeah, i’m shocked.”

the girl sniffed away her snot that ran down from her cold as he laughed again.

“don’t be too surprised that i’m a caring person.” sunghoon uttered, shaking his head while hiding his huge smile away. “i’m usually nice to you anyway.”

y/n guffawed out a scoff, sending a soft smack towards his arm as she muttered, “yeah right! you weren’t nice when i asked for the lecture notes 40 minutes ago, and you said no!”

the male giggled as he thought back to their texts, heart melting at his friends stuffy voice. “well who told you to stay home? that lecture was really important!” he teased back, lips instantly curling at her gasp and eye roll.

“if you’re just here to bicker with me then please leave, hoon. i’m too sick to argue.” she huffed, shaking her head.

“okay, okay, fine, i’m sorry.” he slightly pouted, causing her to softly smile. “i really am here to take care of you though.”

sunghoon ruffled her hair, letting it run messy everywhere as his eyes twinkled in the scene of his friend struggling to leave his teasing act. his lips coiled again, unable to hide his facial expressions with how much he adored her.

“sunghoon!” the girl yelled, pushing his hand away.

his heart pounded at the sound of his name leaving her lips, making him stop the ruffles.

“your friend is sick and you’re really doing this to her!”

hoon chuckled at her words before the word — ‘friend’ — hit him. his heart stung a little and he retracted himself back, officially putting a stop to all of the teasings as y/n still huffed with hair pieces around her face.

“can i go back to sleep now?” she mumbled, throat immediately running dry.

sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head while replying, “what’s the point of me being here if you’re just gonna sleep?”

“you volunteered to be here!”

“exactly, which is why you need to stay out here while i reheat my moms soup for you!”

the girl wore a frown, but her stomach betrayed her when it rumbled at the mention of food, causing her friend to chortle out a laugh.

“see? your stomach wants me to stay.”

he wore a shit eating grin, making y/n playfully roll her eyes and nudge him. “now go stay on the couch, i’ll reheat it up for you.” he sweetly muttered like a boyfriend.

her heart instantly raced and a few coughs suddenly bursted from her as the thought of him being a well-mannered boyfriend flooded her mind.

“get a hold of yourself, idiot.” she said under her breath.

“did you say something??”

her head whipped up at sunghoon and she quickly shook her head. “no! um.. just don’t burn my kitchen down… please.. i know you suck at cooking.”

he scoffed out a ridiculed laugh. “it’s just reheating soup, how bad can that get?”

bad, because within seconds, the boy let the pot heat up on the stove too long, making the cold soup instantly smoke up when he added it in.

the alarms rang off the hook and y/n’s ears rang like crazy; and if that wasn’t enough, sunghoons deep voice screaming at the steam was the cherry on top.

“sunghoon!!” she shouted, giving a faint scold as she fanned beneath her smoke detectors.

his cheeks flushed and his ears instantly became red while he stood in the kitchen like a six year old getting yelled at.

“sorry…,” his soft voice murmured, feeling self-conscious with the way he embarrassed himself in front of his friend.

“i didn’t know there was a time limit with how long the pot had to heat up…,”

y/n huffed out a sigh, instantly dropping her slight annoyance when she came face to face with the boy who was softly pouting. a laugh escaped from her and she only shook her head.

“you’re an idiot, you know that?” she joked, causing a faint grin to be placed on him. “of course it’s gonna smoke when you leave it on high heat for 10 minutes.”

“stop it, y/n… i’m embarrassed, you don’t have to acknowledge what i did wrong.” sunghoon covered his face with his hands, blocking off every facial feature but his ears that were still brightly colored red.

the girl chuckled, grin widening as her sickness almost left her when he remained shy in his actions.

“i don’t know if i should trust you in my kitchen ever again..,”

hoon rolled his eyes and smiled. “okay, it wasn’t even that bad!”

“you literally set off my smoke alarms!”

“okay.. but nothing caught on fire!”

y/n shook her head, hearty coughs still leaving her throat as she heaved her chest up and down.

“you were supposed to take care of me, but stressed me out instead!”

he seethed air through his teeth in guilt, head low while he chewed on his lips. “sorry…,” the male muttered. “i swear i was trying so hard not to do anything that’d make you get up!”

she laughed at his words and replied, “that’s sweet of you, hoon, but you did.”

“i know…, i’m still embarrassed.”

he placed his hands over his face once more, but peeked his eyes through separated fingers to catch her reaction. y/n wore a huge smile, eyes creasing into half moon crescents that caused butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

he softened his gaze once he felt it and they instantly twinkled with a deep warmth that was only for her.

the remaining words that spewed out of the girl had quickly been deafened as he continued to stare at her, making her snap at him — “sunghoon?? did you even hear me?”

“oh.. um… yes!” he tried to cheese a grin, but she obviously wasn’t convinced.

“and what did i say..?”

“something about… your cold being worse..?”

he pressed his lips into a firm line, forming a bread smile as her tongue clicked in disappointment.

“you weren’t listening.., what’s even distracting you?”

her, but he couldn’t say that.

y/n folded her arms while she awaited for an answer, making him gulp.

first, he invited himself inside. second, he almost burned down her kitchen. and now, he wasn’t even processing whatever she had to say.

“um..,” he swallowed down a lump in his throat, trying to find whatever could be distracting. “your snot, y/n! it’s uh.. dripping! yeah, that!”

the girl felt her heart drop and she immediately ran around to find tissues. what dumb luck did hoon have that she actually was dripping with snot?

he breathed out a sigh of relief, hand clenching onto his chest with how close he was to getting caught.

y/n quickly came back, cheeks slightly tinted pink. “back to what i was saying… how about i just heat up the soup myself?” she suggested, causing him to widen his eyes and shake his head.

“no, you’re sick. i can’t have you walking around when you should be resting.”

her brows scrunched and her head slightly tilted as a soft laugh escaped from her. “hoon.. you literally made me run around my apartment to stop the alarms…,”

sunghoon thought back to her constant feet pattering he heard not too long ago, and sighed. “anymore. i won’t have you walking around anymore,” he firmly corrected himself.

she took a sigh as well, finally falling to defeat as he proudly pushed her toward her couch.

“don’t stress about it.., soup will be in your much-needed tummy soon!”

y/n couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at his words, but eventually let him continue with how eager he was to do something so sweet.

with the man in the kitchen, she felt her pupils dilate whenever she laid her eyes on him, heart almost jumping out of her throat with how quick it was beating.

sunghoon was instantly looking like a boyfriend to her, and she couldn’t fight those thoughts anymore — his tall figure, the oversized hoodie perfectly fitting him, his pretty face gleaming at the bubbling pot.

of course, he did almost burn down her kitchen, but he was redeeming himself right now.

the girl was almost soaring with how much she was falling for him. though she was still fighting for her life, sunghoon being there for her was already making her feel better — even if he stressed her out for a second.

but she swiftly shook it off once the friend had turned around with a proud look spread across his face.

“it’s done! this soup will instantly make you feel better when you eat it.” he murmured, lips still curling at his final success attempt of reheating his moms soup.

y/n softly reflected his grin back as she sat across from him. “your mom’s the best, hoon!” she quickly dug in, heart melting and tummy warming at the soothing broth.

sunghoon tried to hide away his obvious beam but couldn’t help it. his eyes were glistening, his fangs were flashing, and his mind was going crazy with the girl he liked in front of her.

was this how it’d always be if she got sick, and he’d offer to take care of her? (yes)

his heart swelled with the possible future in his hands as the girl continued to eat.

“you don’t want to eat any?” she murmured, but he fully shook his head and pushed the bowl further to her — “it’s all yours, loser. my mom packed it specifically for you.”

she quietly coughed at the sudden nickname, scowling back a look while he only chuckled.

“you didn’t think i’d grow a soft spot for you just because you got sick, did you?” he teased mercilessly.

y/n playfully rolled her eyes before going back to chomping. typical sunghoon. one minute he was sweet, the next he was just a guy who loved to tease a little too much.

he continued to wear a huge grin though as she munched, making the girl fully unaware of how much love he held in his eyes.

once her stomach was full, hoon forced her to sit on the couch with a blanket wrapped around while he cleaned the dishes.

the feeling of him taking care of her was strange, but she liked it. it was something she could get use to if he liked her back (idiot).

when sunghoon finished, he plopped directly next to her on the couch with an idiotic grin, eyes full of hearts and stomach bubbled from feeling nervous.

“um, sunghoon?” y/n poked. “shouldn’t you sit a little further away? i can get you sick.”

he scoffed and laughed as if she told the funniest joke ever. “if i didn’t want to risk getting sick, i wouldn’t have chosen to come over… dummy.” he chuckled at the name he gave her while rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

“do you want me to move?”

her face instantly flushed with a hue of pink and she subtly tried to turn away from it. “no.. you can stay if you want.”

“do you want me to stay?”

sunghoon’s heart quickly thumped with every surge of confidence he got from her shy reactions.

his eyes flickered at her turned head, tilting his own in confusion before muttering, “are you that sick that you can’t look at me?”

“i can! my throat’s just.. itchy so i don’t want to cough in your face,” she tried to shoot back.

he huffed out a slight laugh at her lame attempt of an excuse. “is it that hard to stare at my handsome face?” he asked, knowing that she’d face him right after.

“what!” y/n’s hoarse voice spoke. “i can!”

she quickly laid her eyes back onto him and almost instantly, the two felt their hearts explode with fireworks.

sunghoon took a noticeably large gulp, blinking repeatedly with how quick their nose tips touched. she was much closer than she should’ve been, and the boy was flustered.

“y/n.. you’re um…,” he swallowed another lump, adams apple bobbing as every butterfly in his stomach multiplied.

“see! i can look at you!” she yelled, honestly unaware of how flushed her friend was becoming.

“yeah, you win.” he replied, nudging her forehead away before she could hear his loud heartbeats.

hoon held onto his chest, trying to calm his nerves when y/n only clicked her tongue.

“tried to challenge me but lost instead.. idiot.” she mumbled to herself, giving crunchy coughs afterward.

a grin plastered onto his face after her words processed. “yeah.. i lost” — but he didn’t, because he felt like a winner with how close her nose tip accidentally grazed over his.

he bit his bottom lip to hide away another smile as he muttered, “i think it’s time for you to take some medicine.”

y/n’s face scrunched in disgust. “i know i’m sick, but i hate taking cough syrup.”

“well you need it because you’re coughing like you’re on your death bed.”

an audible gasp was heard from her and she quickly smacked his arm. “sunghoon!” she yelled, earning a laugh from him.

“i’m just stating the obvious!”

he flashed a heart-throbbing grin and she almost melted at it, vision quick to lose sight with how alarmingly charming it was.

“you didn’t need to say that..,” she scowled.

his fangs were still brightly shown as he murmured, “come on, just take the medicine. it’ll benefit you.”

his hands offered a cup of the cough syrup that y/n hated. she downed it quickly but her lips pursed together like she tasted lemon.

sunghoon hollered out another laugh, eyes squeezing shut at how she shook her head in disapproval.

“that was gross!!” she exclaimed, making happy tears well up in the boy. “stop making fun of your sick friend, she doesn’t appreciate it, you know?”

he continued his laughing streak until he deemed it enough, wiping away a tear drop as he watched y/n roll her eyes.

“okay, sorry, hoon is acknowledging that.” he replied, giving a little play on her third person usage.

her lips coiled into a smile as she sent another soft hit to him. “you’re stupid.”

“and you’re sick, so get back in your blankets.”

before she could protest, sunghoon was quick to wrap it around her, giving her no time to react at the way his arms enclosed them together.

he tugged the sheets around her shoulders, gaze completely concentrated on the amount of blankets that covered her.

his face was leaned in, close to the point where her lips could ghost over his cheeks for a soft peck.

she felt her face heat up at the very thought, mind instantly craving for that moment while she watched his thick, dark brows scrunch for complete focus. she couldn’t help but linger her gaze down to his other pretty features.

being this close to her handsome friend felt mind numbingly crazy.

when the boy had finished, he gleamed a half smile before pulling away, proud of how he was able to ensure every blanket had securely been wrapped around her.

she quietly gasped for air after hoon’s brows raised in satisfaction of his work. “there! now you’re warm!” his voice yelled. “you can go to sleep now.”

y/n flickered her gaze to him, watching the way he softly patted his shoulder. she let a puff of air slip by her lips in disbelief as she shoved him.

“why are you being so sweet right now?”

was it not obvious to her that he wanted to feel her rest her head on his shoulder?

sunghoon’s lips pursed together while trying to find the right words. “you’re sick, y/n, why wouldn’t i be sweet right now?” he awkwardly laughed, stomach rupturing in butterflies. “i don’t want my friend to get bad treatment while she’s sick.”

he cheesed a grin and she only shook her head, eventually complying to his offer and laying on his shoulder.

his heart instantly raced at the little bump her head made against him, and he couldn’t help the huge smile that took form on his face from it.

“what should we watch?” y/n mumbled, unconsciously cuddling closer.

“what are you feeling?” sunghoon softly gulped as he forced his attention to stay on the device in front of them.

“mm..,” she thought. “oh! wanna watch lovely runner??”

he raised his brows in confusion. “lovely.. runner?”

“hoon, you need to watch more series…,” she scowled back at him. “let’s watch it!”

the boy was about to make a remark but stopped himself, agreeing with her suggestion since it was her sick day after all.

the drama played, episode after episode as the two stayed glued on the couch, holding each other close — both forgetting that they were just friends.

when another episode had finished, sunghoon’s eyes carefully watched the end credits. he chuckled, excited to start on the next one.

“should we watch another?” he murmured, waiting for an answer when nothing from y/n had been heard.

another minute passed and soft snores had finally erupted out of her.

he scoffed out a laugh, lips quickly curling at her quiet noises before turning his head.

“you’re really asleep?” the boy said, voice kept small to not wake her.

in seconds, the episode was paused and sunghoon carried his sick friend to her bed with ease.

laying her down carefully, his movements were slow and steady. the only thing audible were y/n’s continuous little snores and hoon’s heavy breathing.

the girl was finally set down, wrapped in blankets as he glanced at her state. his heart was pounding in his ears and his fingernails were scratching his palms to calm himself.

even when she was sickly pale, she was still someone who caught his attention timelessly. he loved her, and every little thing that complimented with him.

his lips curled at her, gaze softening as he quietly murmured, “i like you, dummy. can’t you notice me?”

sunghoon sighed, feeling stupid at how he confessed to his friend who still remained asleep. his heart began to shatter, shards painfully stabbing him as he started to head for the door.

however, a hand grab was quick to stop him, holding him back from moving any further. his heart dropped at the fast realization, mind instantly going through scenarios of y/n rejecting him.

slowly, he turned with a fragile mindset, ready to be declined from his crush.

“y/n…,” the male gulped.

she only beamed a half smile when she sat up as her eyes still drooped in fatigue. “i do notice you, loser.” she admitted with flushed cheeks. “because i like you too.. i like you a lot, actually.”

hoon’s face lit up in shock, eyes being blown wide as he felt adrenaline rush through his body. “you like me??” he questioned, falling in disbelief of her words.

y/n bit her lips, hiding away her smile while nodding. “i’ve liked you for a while now… and honestly, you taking care of me made me fall in love with you even more.”

her gaze trailed up to his face, watching how he proudly wore his wide grin made her heart flutter.

“stop looking at me like that..,” she uttered, softly pushing his shoulder, but he couldn’t help it. the girl he’s longed for finally said the words he’s been wanting to hear.

sunghoon flashed his charming fangs at her as he smiled in delight. “what else can i do? my friend’s in love with me.”

“i said like, not love!” she defended.

“i heard love…,” he teased back, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.

he gave another chuckle before leaning in, lips yearning for hers when she dodged away.

his head tilted in confusion and she only laughed at that. “i’m still sick, hoon. i don’t want to get you sick.” y/n muttered, earning a ridiculed taunt to come from him.

“you think i care about that? the girl i’ve loved for so long has just confessed to me so i’m gonna kiss her.”

sunghoon quickly leaned in again, close to kissing a flustered y/n when she pulled away once more. he softly pouted, face frowning as his gaze stay locked on her lips.

“sunghoon,” she called, but he didn’t answer. the boy continued to be mindlessly stuck on the sight of her lips.

she sent a soft hit to his broad chest, finally catching his attention as his eyes grew hungry.

“i seriously don’t want to get you sick,” she mumbled, face scrunching to emphasize her worry.

hoon only scoffed, biting his lips as he replied — “and i seriously don’t care.”

before she could say more, he swiftly crashed his lips against hers, swooning the girl in seconds. she gasped, earning an entrance for sunghoon as he smiled against her — enjoying the shocked reaction he was able to receive.

his hands firmly held her cheeks, cupping them so she could stay put while she held onto his arms, softly gripping onto his hoodie with the evidential crave in his kiss.

y/n finally pushed against his chest, giving him the signal to pull away and he did. his face continued to linger near hers, eyes searching for flushed cheeks.

“sunghoon!” she quietly scolded, earning a chuckle from his attractive voice.

she felt his lips softly curl against hers and she couldn’t help but to smile as well.

“now you’re gonna get sick.”

her gaze peered into his, making his heart melt while he raised his brows. “i guess you’ll have to be the one to take care of me now.”

he grinned as she rolled her eyes, cupping her cheeks once more for sweet kisses on the lips. he gave soft pecks, continuing on and on before y/n turned her head away.

“i know you like me, but i’m still sick! don’t kiss me right now.” she huffed, trying to swat him away.

sunghoon chuckled. “you should’ve told me that minutes ago, now i don’t want to stop kissing you.”

he leaned in again but the girl dodged her head away. “no, sunghoon!!” she giggled, attempting to push at his chest.

“just one!”

y/n sighed before complying, pushing herself closer for a soft peck on the lips.

“one more?”

her face morphed in disbelief, eventually leaning in for another. a quick plant on his lips was made and he only smiled.

“another?”

“hoon… no.” she folded her arms and shook her head. “my throat is hurting and i’m about to cough if i lean in again.”

sunghoon raised his thick brows mischievously. “so i’ll lean in then.” and so he tried, closing his eyes and expecting a kiss on the lips when he met her cheek instead.

“why don’t you want to kiss your new boyfriend?” he softly whined, becoming clingy within seconds.

y/n scrunched her face as she grinned and nudged him. “because your new girlfriend is sick and wants to rest.”

his lips pushed together and presented duck lips, pouting while wrapping his arms around her. “fine then, let’s rest, hm?” he murmured.

the two laid beside each other, facing one another as his eyes twinkled with love, mind in complete disbelief of how he was able to get his girl.

“i’m so lucky,” his voice uttered in the silence.

“hm?” sleepy y/n replied back.

“i’m lucky you fell in love with me.”

“and i’m lucky you loved me back, and also didn’t burn down my kitchen.” she murmured, voice almost gone from her cold.

sunghoon chuckled and let a huge grin plaster onto his face as he leaned in once more, placing a longing kiss on the tip of her nose.

“get to sleep, pretty girl.” he whispered.

y/n yawned, nodding her head and complying without an insult with how exhausted she was.

he pulled her closer into his arms, engulfing her into his soothing embrace as he muzzled his head on top of hers.

she breathed in his scent, feeling at home when she easily rested her hands at his chest.

the two cuddled, holding each other close to their dearest hearts with a new relationship that just unfolded.

✩ ‘all my life is you’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[natsaffection]

Mafia's Mistress pt. 1 | N.R

MafiaBoss!Natasha x Civilian!YoungerReader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22), kinda manipulative Nat, Oral and fingering (r receiving), restraints, begging, edging and normal stuff :v

Word Count: 4,8 K

A/N: First of many parts is here! I want to post about it every Sunday, so if you want to be tagged, let me know and have fun! 🫱🏼‍🫲🏻

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined that you would be sitting in such a large penthouse, with hundreds of security guards around you who only have one order: to keep you safe.

Never would you have thought that you would no longer have to worry about money, or what you would do if you were running low at the end of the month. Never would you have thought that this one person would turn out to be the strongest and most feared woman in the world.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Six Month ago ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

In the heart of the bustling city, where neon lights painted the streets pink and blue, you hurriedly made your way through the crowded sidewalks, your heart pounding with excitement and fear as you clutched your books tightly to your chest.

The rhythmic hum of the city enveloped you, a symphony of car horns, distant chatter, and the occasional street performer's tune. As you rounded a corner, your hasty steps faltered, causing you to collide with a figure cloaked in shadow. A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled back, your books slipping from your grasp and scattering across the sidewalk like fallen leaves.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you looked up, your eyes widening in surprise as you met the piercing gaze of a woman in front of you. She stand tall and imposing, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall, framing a face that exuded an aura of mystery and danger. Your breath caught, a mixture of fear and curiosity swirling inside you like a tempestuous storm.

The woman bore into you with a piercing gaze, studying you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, the tension thickening like syrup as the world around you seemed to fade into the background.

"I-I'm so sorry," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

The woman's expression remained invisible as she raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, her gaze still on you. The silence between you stretched, full of unspoken questions and unspoken emotions. “You don’t need to apologize,” her voice was a melodic blend of honey and ice, each word carefully weighed and imbued with a hidden depth that sent a chill down your spine once again. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, had an enigmatic glow, as if they could see through your innermost being and unravel the layers of your soul with a single glance.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

As you and the woman settled into a cozy corner of the bustling cafe, the scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you in a warm embrace. You couldn’t help but cast coy glances at the woman in front of you.

“So,” Natasha, how she introduced herself began with silky elegance as she took a sip of her coffee, “What made you offer me a coffee as an apology?” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the weight of guilt once again weighing on your heart. "I just felt really bad about bumping into you," you admit, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "And I wanted to make it up to you somehow."

Natasha looked at you with a knowing look, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, you certainly know how to make a first impression," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I have to admit, I was a little surprised by your offer." You couldn't help but feel a wave of relief at Natasha's words, your fear melting away like snow under the warm spring sun.

"I'm glad you accepted," you say, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I was worried you'd find it weird." Natasha giggled softly, which was music to your ears. "Believe me, I've encountered far stranger things in my line of work," she said cryptically, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "But I have to admit, this is a first for me." As you both talked, Natasha's phone buzzed incessantly in her pocket, a constant reminder of the world outside her little bubble.

With practiced ease, she discreetly checked her messages, her expression unreadable as she absorbed the information being relayed to her. You can't help but notice the subtle change in Natasha's demeanor, the way her expression softened ever so slightly as she glanced at her phone.

Before you could think about it any further, Natasha pocketed her phone and turned her attention back to you, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, tell me more about yourself. What do you do when you're not bumping into mysterious strangers on the street?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the question, your fingers tightening around your coffee cup.

"Um, my name is Y/n, I'm a journalist.." When you told her, Natasha's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, her eyes widening with interest. "Journalist?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with curiosity. "That's.. fascinating. Why did you choose this profession?" Your heart skipped a beat at Natasha's genuine interest, a warmth spreading through you as she realized Natasha was genuinely interested in you. "I've always loved telling stories," you explain, your voice growing more confident with each word. "As a journalist, I can shed light on important issues and give a voice to those who need it most."

Natasha leaned closer to you, her eyes shining with admiration. "That's incredibly noble," she said seriously, her words making you tremble with excitement. "I have to admit, I've never met a journalist before. This must be quite an adventure." As they continued to chat, you felt her opening up to Natasha in a way she hadn't with anyone else. Natasha's genuine interest calmed you down and made you feel valued and appreciated.

You gathered up all your courage and decided to ask Natasha's question herself, "What do you do for a living?" Natasha's smile disappeared for a split second, a barely perceptible hint of hesitation crossing her face before she regained her composure. "Oh, I work in marketing," she answered smoothly, her voice betraying none of the uncertainty that lingered in her head.

"That sounds interesting too," you say in a polite tone, trying to hide your lingering curiosity. “What do you like most about it?” Natasha’s smile widened, relief flooding through her as you accepted her answer without further questioning, “I love the creative aspect of it,” Natasha replied, her words flowing effortlessly as she slipped into the role of the confident professional. “Coming up with new ideas and strategies to promote products and services is a challenge, but a rewarding one.”

As the two of you continued your conversation in the cozy corner of the busy cafe, Natasha couldn’t help but notice the genuine warmth and innocence you exuded. Despite the complexity of her own life and the secrets she kept, Natasha found herself drawn to the simplicity and sincerity of your interaction.

It was rare that she let her guard down and had a conversation without the weight of her past weighing on her, but with you, it felt effortless.

As your conversation reached its peak, however, Natasha’s phone buzzed with an urgent message. Her expression remained stoic as she looked at the screen, "Y/n, I'm sorry, but I have to go," Natasha said in an apologetic tone as she quickly packed up her things. "Something came up at work."

Your heart sank at the abrupt change of plans, but you nodded in understanding, hiding your disappointment behind a polite smile. "Of course, I hope everything is okay?"

Natasha smiled reassuringly at you, although there was something unreadable in her eyes. "Everything will be fine," she said with more conviction than you expected.

Before you could even offer to pay for her coffee, Natasha quickly reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet.

"Let me take care of this, as a thank you for the time," Natasha insisted, her voice firm but gentle as she approached the counter to settle the bill. Despite the haste in her movements, Natasha's demeanor remained calm, her actions swift and purposeful.

You watched in surprise as Natasha paid for both coffees, a small gesture that spoke volumes amidst the chaos of her abrupt departure.

"Thank you," you say quietly as you walk towards the door. Natasha smiled warmly at you, her eyes softening with genuine affection. "It was a pleasure, Y/n," she replied in a soft voice, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

And with that, Natasha disappeared into the busy streets of the city, leaving you standing alone in the entrance of the cafe.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Later this Day ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Dark clouds loomed over you as you moved stealthily through the deserted alleys of the city, your camera at the ready and your senses on high alert. You had received an anonymous tip about illegal dealings taking place in secret, and you were determined to gather evidence for your next story.

As you carefully snapped photos of the desolate surroundings, you didn't notice the figure lurking behind it until it was almost too late. With a startled gasp, you stumbled backwards, your heart racing as you turned to face the unexpected intruder.

To your surprise, Natasha stood before you, a shadowy figure in the dimly lit alley. Your breath caught as you met Natasha's piercing gaze, a feeling of unease settling over you like a thick fog.

"N-Natasha?" you greet carefully, your voice tinged with suspicion as you eye the woman in front of you.

Natasha's expression softened as she looked at you with amusement, a playful glint appearing in her eyes. "Well, what a surprise to see you again," Natasha remarked with a wry smile. "Are you following me by any chance?"

Your suspicion grew at Natasha's light-hearted remark, your head racing with questions about the woman's true intentions. "I could ask you the same," you reply, your tone tinged with skepticism as you watch Natasha's every move.

Natasha's smile vanished for a moment, a hint of uncertainty crossing her face before she regained her composure. "Touché," she replied with a giggle, although there was a hint of tension in her voice. "Maybe we're just two ships passing each other in the night."

As raindrops began to fall from the darkening sky, Natasha's demeanor changed and a mischievous glint came into her eyes. "Looks like it's about to pour," she remarked with a mischievous grin. "Why don't we leave this desolate alley and find somewhere more.. inviting?"

You nod, still stunned that you've met again. As you make your way to a slightly brighter area, you can't shake the feeling that Natasha is looking you up and down and you speak up again,

"So..." you begin, your voice laced with suspicion as you glance sideways at the enigmatic woman next to you. "What were you really doing back there? Looking for your next victim?"

You try to lighten the mood with a mischievous joke, although the tension between you was somehow palpable. Natasha chuckled softly, her eyes flickering with amusement as she considered your joke. "See through it..." she replied ironically, her voice laced with a hint of desire. "But I'm afraid the truth is far less exciting than you might think."

Your brow furrowed in confusion, your mind racing to decipher Natasha's cryptic words. "Less exciting?" you repeat, your voice laced with uncertainty. Natasha nodded, her expression carefully neutral as she met your gaze. "Yes," she replied quietly, her mind preoccupied with the image of you in her bed. What?

"You know, I was... hoping to find someone and I seem to have gotten a little carried away and ended up in the right place at the right time." Natasha's excuse and lie took a completely different turn than she had originally intended. But better this way than that.

Your eyes widened as you realized what Natasha had said and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "Oh," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I understand." Natasha's desire burned even hotter at your reaction, her head racing at the thought of having you all to herself. What is wrong with her?

"How about it?" Your breath caught in your throat as you fought to keep your composure. Your mind was clouded by Natasha's proximity. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, I shouldn't have... um, whatever." But Natasha's desire burned too fiercely to be ignored, and she couldn't resist the temptation to take what she wanted. "You know what?" she said suddenly, her tone dripping with seduction. "Since you're already here, why don't you come to my place? I could make us something to eat and then we'll see where it takes us, what do you think?" Your eyes widened in surprise at Natasha's unexpected invitation, your heart racing with excitement and concern.

"Oh, I don't know..." you begin, your voice full of uncertainty. But Natasha's desire burned too fiercely to be suppressed, and she couldn't resist the urge to push you further. "We can just eat. Continue our conversation from the coffee shop.” she said now in a gentle tone so as not to push her away

And when you hesitated for a moment and uncertainty flickered in your eyes, Natasha's unwavering gaze and her energetic tone convinced you to take the leap into the unknown. “But you promise me not to kill me in secret, okay?” Natasha rolled her eyes inwardly, your sweet little manner does something to her. “Promise.”

You had imagined her area exactly like that. Natasha seems classy, ​​elegant to you and so does her apartment. Small, simple, modern. Her interior looks exactly like that. She goes into the kitchen, “Are you of legal age yet?” The question threw you off track a little, was that ironic? Did she mean it - “That was a joke... loosening up, you're stiff.” You smile nervously. Maybe it all happened too quickly for you. Natasha puts two wine glasses on the table and brings a bottle of water, "Take what you want," she leans across from you. You sit on the plush sofa and wait for something. Anything.

"You know, I'm not used to getting to know people." You were glad that she finally said something, so you could at least carry on a conversation now, "That's it. You're going to kill me." You answer sarcasm-wise. Natasha grinned again, "What makes you always think that?" You unconsciously bite your lip and scratch the rim of the glass in your hand with your nails. "I don't know...You...Please don't take this negatively, but you look like that sometimes.." As you continue to babble about your own words, Natasha only thinks one thing. That's how it should be.

Natasha laughed softly and put her glass on the table. "Well, maybe I just like to keep the people around me guessing. Am I a killer? Am I just a poor, lonely woman looking for her pleasure in the night? Or something else entirely? It's exciting to reveal who you really are, bit by bit. It's a dance of seduction...and I like to think I'm an artist in that regard."

You felt your pulse quicken and your gaze fell to Natasha's lips. "I wouldn't mind seeing you like this..." You put everything on the line. You want her.

Natasha shifted in her seat, a devilish glint in her eyes. "You say that like you're ready for a private performance," she teased. You met her gaze, the tension in the room running like a wire. "Maybe I am..." you admitted. Natasha's mouth twisted into a slow, knowing smile. With a quick movement, she drank the rest of her wine and raised her eyebrow. "Well, since this seems to be the premiere of a solo exhibition, maybe I should leave the stage and take a bow."

You felt your face turn red. "I-I'd love to," you said, your breath catching. Natasha rose, an aura of seductive confidence surrounding her like a second skin as she walked around the coffee table. You watched, heart pounding, as Natasha stood between your outstretched legs. Slowly, she reached for your water glass and placed it next to her own, her movements deliberate and graceful. "I want your full attention," she murmured, her minty breath blowing against your face.

You nodded, your voice catching in your throat as Natasha lowered herself and your lips met in a feverish kiss. You felt Natasha's hands brush against your sides. Natasha chucked, her voice glowing with desire. "You're so nervous." She pulled back, her piercing green eyes meeting yours.

"Let me help you." Natasha's hands began to explore your body, her touch like fire on your skin. Slowly, she unbuttoned your blouse, her lips brushing against your neck with each button she unbuttoned. You arched your back and moaned softly as Natasha's lips touched your bare skin and her tongue found its way to the curve of your breast.

Natasha teased your nipples with her teeth, pulling and sucking until you were squirming in her lap and your fingers were clutching Natasha's red locks. Natasha's hands moved further down and reached for the zipper of your jeans. She pulled it down slowly, her fingers brushing against your inner thigh. You bit your lip and your hips jerked as Natasha's hand entered your panties and found them soaking wet and ready for her touch.

Natasha teased your opening, her fingers circling your clit in slow, deliberate movements that made you squirm with desire. "N-Natasha.." you gasped, your fingers clinging tighter to Natasha's hair. "Don't tease m-me.." Natasha groaned and her fingers continued to dance over your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "You wanted a private showing. I'll give it to you," Natasha purred, her fingers dipping into your wetness. She stroked you slowly and teasingly before sliding two fingers inside you.

You moaned and your head fell back as Natasha's fingers began to move in a steady rhythm. Natasha's thumb circled your clit, increasing the pressure inside you. "O-Oh.." you gasped, your hands grabbing Natasha's shoulders. Natasha grinned as she felt the walls of your pussy clench around her fingers. "You like that?" she taunted in a deep, sensual voice. "You like how I fuck you with my fingers and make you wetter than ever?"

You could only nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Natasha continued to stroke you. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body shaking with pleasure. Natasha's fingers were relentless, driving you higher and higher until you were a writhing mess on her lap. Suddenly Natasha pulled her fingers out, making you gasp in need.

"No, no, no," you whimper, your body begging for more. Natasha giggled, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Patience, I'm not done with you yet." She stood up, took your hands and pulled you up with her. Natasha led you to the nearby wall, pressing your back against it as you lowered your head to hide your noises from her. She could feel your hands wandering over her body, Natasha's hips grinding against you, searching for friction.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Y/n?" You nodded, your breath catching as Natasha's teeth grazed your neck. "Yes, please..” you pleaded, your voice hoarse with desire. Natasha's lips curved into a smile against your skin and she reached for the button of her own jeans. With a wave of her hand, they opened, revealing matching lacy underwear that left little to the imagination. You couldn't help but stare, your mouth going dry as Natasha stepped closer, your bodies snuggled close together. "Do you like what you see?" Natasha purred, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Then let me show you more."

Natasha reached out a hand to you, "Excited?" Skeptically, you followed Natasha close on her heels as the red-haired woman led you through her sprawling home. You meandered through the luxurious interior, which was decorated with sleek, modern furniture. Some rooms were light and airy, while others were softly lit with lamps and strategically placed candles.

You reached a room door hidden in a dark, secluded hallway, different from the rest of the house. Your heart raced, and your anticipation grew. This had to be her bedroom.

Natasha turned, looked over her shoulder, and caught your eye. "One thing I want to make sure of. If you feel uncomfortable, we can always go back to the living room, okay?"

Her green eyes shone with dark passion. You swallowed hard and nodded. You were nervous and excited at the same time with the anticipation of what was to come. Natasha smiled, her mouth twisting into a mischievous grin as she opened the door. "Welcome to my playroom," Natasha purred, reaching for a dimmer switch that gently bathed the room in a soft, seductive light.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you. Leather-clad walls were adorned with provocative artwork depicting scenes of bondage and domination. A steel frame loomed menacingly in one corner, and the air was filled with an indefinable, dark eroticism. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. Your breath caught as you took in the room, your body tingling with excitement and your stomach fluttering. Natasha stepped forward, her heels clicking imperiously on the stone floor. "What do you think?" You look at everything, let a few things slide through your hands and turn back to her, "I've always read about it...but never thought I'd...you know." Natasha smiled gently, "You don't have to be afraid. I promise you'd enjoy it." The voice was hypnotic, her words weaving a sensual spell. You nod, unable to find your voice as you surrendered to the moment.

Natasha moved closer to you, your bodies touching. Her hand reached out, gently caressing your cheek before moving down to her neck and resting gently on her pulse. "There's something about you. You're curious, exciting and open-minded. I want to show you what I like, what I love and what I desire. I want you to trust me and enjoy every moment. Surrender and I will guide you through an unforgettable experience."

Natasha's voice echoed through the room and you felt a surge of lust and adrenaline building in yours. You nodded again and whispered, "I trust you." With a mischievous grin, Natasha led you to the imposing steel bondage frame. She began to remove your clothing layer by layer, revealing your pale skin and the goosebumps that covered your body. Her fingers gently stroked your trembling body, increasing your anticipation.

You stood there, trembling with desire, as Natasha secured your wrists and ankles to a frame with soft, velvety shackles. Unyielding metal surrounded you, holding you captive, but instead of being afraid, you felt an incredible sense of freedom. Your body was at the mercy of this woman, this mysterious and sensual creature in front of you. Natasha moved around you, admiring you from every angle. "You're breathtaking," she murmured, running her fingertips over your torso.

You gasped at the touch, the warmth of Natasha's hand sending shivers down your spine. Your chest heaved, your heart pounding in your ears. Natasha's eyes locked on yours, and you knew that this woman had completely captivated you. "Do you trust me, Y/n?" Natasha asked in a deep and sensual voice.

"Yes," you whisper, unable to hide the desire etched on your face. Natasha's grin widened. "Good." And with that, she leaned forward, her lips pressed against yours with insatiable hunger. Their mouths moved in sync, exploring each other, their tongues dancing with each other like old lovers reuniting after a long separation. You moaned as Natasha's hand moved between your legs, parting your labia and finding your clit. She stroked it gently, sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body.

You whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut. Natasha continued to caress and tease you, moving her hand to gently thrust two fingers into your wet heat. Your hips bucked wildly, your body begging for more. Natasha grinned against your lips and thrust harder and faster, her fingertips grazing your G-spot.

You gasped, your whole body shaking as the familiar pressure of an orgasm built inside you. Natasha's lips found your ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't come yet. Not until I give you permission."

You continued to whimper and your eyes fluttered shut. "Please, Natasha," you begged, your voice hoarse and desperate, getting closer and closer to the edge of your climax. "No, not yet..." Natasha growled. "If you can't follow simple instructions, I'll have to punish you. And believe me, you don't want that." Natasha's voice was heavy with desire, her words silky and coated with promises.

Your body trembled, your breath caught as you shook your head. Natasha's hand moved away from your sex, making you tremble with anticipation. She stood behind you, her body pressed against yours from behind, her hands gripping your hips.

"Good girl," Natasha whispered in your ear, her lips brushing your earlobes. She trailed her lips down your neck, biting and sucking gently. "Please…" you begged, not even sure what you were begging for anymore. Natasha's hands moved from your hips, up your torso, tracing the curve of your breast before reaching up to gently grip your neck.

"Not yet," she said again, her voice a low rumble in your ear. Despite the pain between her legs, you breathed deeply and evenly, concentrating on the heady mix of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. Natasha's fingers on your neck sent shivers down your spine, the metal frame in your back a constant, comforting reminder of your vulnerability.

You were hoarse, desperate and full of longing. Natasha's lips curled into a wicked smile, her eyes shining with desire as she slowly sank to her knees. Her hands slid over your trembling thighs, gently pushing them apart and giving her unhindered access.

Your breath caught as Natasha's tongue darted out and circled your aching clitoris in slow, deliberate circles. You shuddered, the mixture of lust and anticipation driving you wild. With each stroke of Natasha's tongue, your hips bucked, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, the buildup of your orgasm threatening to overwhelm you. But Natasha didn't let you come yet.

"Beg for it," she commanded in a firm but hoarse voice. The command made you shudder. You were soaking wet and aching for release, but you held back, enjoying the delicious agony. "Please, Natasha, make me come. I'm begging you!!”

But Natasha was relentless, refusing to let you find your release. Instead, she teased you with slow, gentle flicks of her tongue, occasionally sucking your swollen clit into her mouth. Your toes curled, your fingers clenched into fists as Natasha continued her torture. "F-Fuck, Natasha, I'm so c-close.." you whimper, trying to push your hips against Natasha's mouth.

But Natasha's grip on your thighs tightened, holding you still and prolonging her torment. "Do you deserve to come?" Natasha asked, her voice muffled against your smooth skin. She felt like an agonizing tease on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. "Yes, yes I do.." you gasped, your head spinning with lust and desperation.

Natasha's giggle sent shivers down your spine. With one final agonizing flick of her tongue, she granted you a reprieve, sending you spinning over the edge with devastating precision. “You can let go, Malysh.”

"Yes, fuck YES!" you screamed, arching your back as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over your body. Natasha continued to tease and probe, prolonging every last tremor until you were left breathless and limp in your bonds. You stand there, panting and shaking, enjoying the euphoria coursing through your veins.

Natasha stands up, her eyes dark with desire, and leans in to whisper in your ear. "You know what I mean, Detka? That was just a taste," Natasha murmurs, her lips brushing your earlobes. "I want to give you more, so much more. Will you let me?" You nod exhaustedly, your breath catching with every word Natasha speaks in your ear. You were helpless, tied up and at the mercy of this woman. You couldn't resist the lure of what Natasha was offering you. "Good girl," Natasha praised, her voice heavy with desire.

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[midnighvtm4ss]

A scenario I often imagine is Arthur drawing you while you show him your favorite music. Him simply worshiping your body, making you his muse and capturing it in his journal forever ♡⁠˖

thank you so much for your request !

You’re my first request im super super excited !! I hope you like it and that I met your expectations even though it’s a quick read <3

highhonor!arthur morgan x f!reader

warnings: maybe a bit suggestive but mostly fluff, wrote this on my notes app so grammar errors for sure sorry :(

wc: 1.2k

“Wanna put some music on f’me sweetheart ?”

The deep rumble of Arthur’s voice muffled in the crook of your neck broke the silent shared bubble of intimacy that surrounded both your naked bodies.

His hands holding you close to him, tracing abstract shapes on your back as you both came down from your highs, a very well-deserved peace after the events of the past month.

The mood around your fellow camp members was slowly starting to get better after escaping the cold claws of Colter’s harsh climate, which trapped the gang in an endless white desert of snow for several weeks with little to no food and an abundance of regret regarding the failed robbery and the miraculous escape from Blackwater.

Although the evening air was still a bit chilly in Horseshoe Overlook camp, being only the early start of spring, one could sense hope warming all your hearts, melting away some of the sorrow and disappointment that the failed robbery and the loss of young Jenny and the Callander brothers left you.

Dutch, more than anyone else, clinging to this glimmer of hope, trying to keep everyone’s faith in the gang.

The wind whistling through the flaps of your and Arthur’s shared tent made a shiver run up your naked body as you made your way from your shared cot where you two were laying, to Dutch’s gramophone, which was opposite the bed, kindly lent to Arthur for a few days.

A small thin cloud of dust and dirt rose up from where your hands flipped through Dutch’s records, eyes scanning meticulously trying to find some of your favourite ones.

Behind you, you could hear the shifting sound of the thick cotton sheets as Arthur moved into a sitting position, his eyes automatically glued to your seductive form like a moth to a flame.

“A ha ! Here it is” you softly exclaimed as you finally found the record you were looking for, the one that never failed to put your mind at ease whenever Dutch would play it around camp.

Sliding it out of the wooden box, careful not to scratch it, you put it on.

As the soft melody of ‘The Flower Duet’ filled the rather small space of your tent you started to sway to the rhythm of the song.

“Sous le dôme épais, où le blanc jasmin à la rose s'assemble”

Turning back to look at Arthur, you found him already looking at you, his aqua irises mixing with yours for a second before quickly looking down his lap and scribbling in his worn leather journal, his face relaxed and a small hint of a smile making its way into his chapped lips.

“What you writing in there ?” you asked softly, body still swaying to the sweet rhythm of your favorite song, a shy smile creeping up your face.

“Nothin’, just some quick…” he took a moment to finish his sentence as he looked back at you, eyes flying to catch every single inch and detail of you.

How the light from the small lamp on the night table made your skin glow and your curves even more defined with the contrast from the darkness of the night sky outside, your french braids, all untidy from the intimacy shared before, shifting with every move you made.

In this moment in his eyes, you were the definition of a goddess, his poor mortal heart struggling to keep an even pace near you.

“…thoughts.” he exhaled the last word, licking his chapped lips before flipping through some pages of his journal seemingly filled with various sketches.

“Ah! Glissons en suivant doucement glissons, de son flot charmant”

As a comfortable silence fell between the two of you with only the soft melodic sound floating in the air and the scraping of Arthur’s pencil on paper you continue to sway, your mind floating away carried by the suave voice of the singer, unaware that the man sitting on your bed is engraving this peaceful and intimate moment forever on paper for his eyes and his heart only to see.

“Dans l'onde frémissante, d’une main nonchalante, gagnons le bord”

His eyes were bright and focused on how to draw your mesmerizing face, afraid of not portraying your unworldly beauty right on paper, so focused that he was slightly surprised when your soft arms wrapped around his torso as you climbed back to your cot, planting a small kiss on his bearded cheek making his heart skip a few beats.

As you rested your head on his shoulder you looked down on his lap expecting to find a doodle or a quick thought scribbled away in his perfect cursive handwriting, but instead, your eyes were met with a full sketched page of you dancing near the gramophone.

With cheeks of a deep red and wide eyes, you looked at Arthur, trying to say something but failing as your heart filled with even more adoration for the not so cold hearted outlaw beside you.

“Sous le dôme épais où le blanc jasmin, ah !Descendons, ensemble!”

Your relationship with Arthur was relatively new, barely six months, and in those six months of relationship you would often catch Arthur sitting somewhere quiet and isolated with his journal, sometimes writing stuff down or sometimes moving his pencil in quick strokes which you guessed were doodles of stuff he would see every day, but you would have never guessed how talented he was in his art.

“Well it ain’t much of a picture” he murmured, a faint, almost imperceptible blush covering the apple of his cheeks, feeling self conscious of his skills under your attentive gaze.

“Oh you silly man, it’s beautiful, Arthur” you quickly reprimanded him with an awestruck tone, your index finger gently caressing the drawing careful not to put much pressure and smudge the graphite version of you.

“Can I see more of your drawings ?” you asked him, meeting his unsure gaze which was already on you, with your hopeful lovesick one. After a quick internal struggle, he fully put his journal in your hands, giving you full permission to explore this new side of him.

As you flipped through the pages you started to see fewer drawings of plants, animals and views and more drawings of you, from portraits to full body.

He carefully captured in each drawing every single detail of you, your beauty stuck graphite to paper, making you look like a lady every painter would fight for the opportunity to draw.

With each passing page, you also noticed how some drawings featured you in more intimate moments, some when you were asleep or braiding your hair, but one in particular made you stop your flipping, heart racing as a deep blush rushed to your whole face.

On a rather empty page, on the left bottom corner there was a drawing of you naked, splayed on the bed, your expression one of pleasure with your hands seemingly caressing your body.

You stared at the drawing for a full five seconds before Arthur noticed what you were looking at and snatched closed his journal in embarrassment his eyes avoiding yours.

“Well, that’s for another time sweetheart.”

[radiant-reid]

A blurb on spencer with the audio thats like “I always thought you were the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen” and it’s to reader? :))

love this !! and i don't care if it's such a cliche image, I'm not going to stop

Spencer jumps when you slide the balcony door open. Even with the serial killer caught, you're all still on edge, chilly in the Alaskan spring.

"Sorry, I hope you don't mind me interrupting." You step forward and close the door to stop any heat from the fire escaping inside.

"Not at all," Spencer assures you, smiling softly to encourage you forward.

You stand next to him, looking out over at the hill and evergreen trees, everything with a fresh dumping of snow on it. The sun's just setting even though it's not too far into the afternoon, the sky beginning to turn soft pink and orange.

"Things were getting a bit tense inside." You laugh at the very recent memory of some passionate arguing.

"Prentiss and Morgan?" Spencer guesses. You confirm with a nod. "Hotch should add Uno to the list of banned games."

You laugh at the rare joke from him. "We're not going to have anything left now that Monopoly, Clue, and all card games are banned."

"We'll have to all play chess." He decides, matching his enthusiasm with a grin.

"Then you'll have to sit out so it's fair." You remind him with a smirk.

He pouts at that, not the answer he was after. A comfortable silence falls between you as you watch the sky changing colors. It's really like nothing you've seen before, and it's a nice reminder that there's still beauty in the world.

"It's just wow." You say softly, in awe.

"The stars will be out soon," Spencer notes. "They should be incredible. It's meant to be clear and there's no light pollution here like there is in DC."

"You looked it up?" You wonder. It's sweet, really, and his interest seems to go beyond adding to his vast general knowledge.

He turns to you to nod. "I'm going to come out after dinner to watch them. I've never seen anything like this in the cities I've lived in, and we don't get many cases in such beautiful, remote places."

You hum with your own nod. "You're right. Or..." Your curiosity doesn't allow you to resist the opportunity to segue the conversation. "Many beautiful people, like the deputy that's into you."

You're trying to disguise it as teasing him, at least then you can play it off as being teammates and friends, and you're desperately hoping he doesn't notice that you're tense about his answer.

His nose scrunches slightly. Maybe disgust, maybe excitement. "I wasn't looking."

"Not your type?" You ask, slightly alarmed again. You do share some similar traits with her, so if she's not his type, your chances are slimmer.

"I always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen." He says sincerely, knocking the wind out of your chest. "So, no, Y/n, I'm not looking at anyone."

You take longer than you should to get over your shock. "You're serious?"

"Sorry, sorry." He quickly apologizes as his cheeks heat up more than can be accounted for by the cold weather. "That was weird. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No." You rest your hand over his, hoping to calm his spiraling worry. "You didn't... just thank you. That's... the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"It's true." He reiterates.

Your smile deepens. "Can I come stargazing with you?" You ask. "I promise I won't distract you."

"Looking like that? Impossible." He jokes, flirtier than you imagine. It's like your reciprocation spurs him on. "But I'd love company... your company, specifically. Inviting someone else would be weird."

You chuckle. "Just me and you."

[gynandromorph]

god this shit took forever to sketch. another NofNA emulation comic. it reminds me of the midterms in secretary, for obvious reasons, but Legend is sort of an inverse secretary situation, where she is exceptional at fighting, but wants to write.

let me see what i can remember...

PS, the blue-eyed black lemur, has been friends with Legend since their mutual first season at college, as mentioned above her reference sketch... they probably became more friendly after being paired up to peer edit each others' work. PS has since graduated from college and works as a markscraft. Legend frequently commissions PS to scribe for her, not only because they are friends, but because PS is one of the few markscrafts in the area who isn't a rodent. many primates go into law or medicine. mainly Legend commissions notetaking in classes -- she is too insecure to share her stories. PS has a more relaxed, informal personality, and i tried to get that across -- i think it's relevant to why she decided to become a markscraft instead of pursuing more intense study. still, i also tried to get across that they are good friends, not just scribe and customer, particularly with the amount of touching that PS does. the impulse to touch and groom is probably innate for her as a primate. there isn't as much information about her species, but in ring-tailed lemurs, lemurs usually only groom based on the strongest bonds, rather than more communal aggregate grooming as a sort of social currency. i honestly don't know what PS would need to note during finals, but i think Legend just Wanted her there anyway.

the bird, DL, fighting the squirrel, GG, is a grey shrike. i imagine him as an average student in the middle of his education, but i think he is in the class for combat purposes, because pressure point manipulation can be incredibly powerful, more so if from a less expected species like a bird.

mr. deciding is a much more serious, no-nonsense teacher, possibly due to his specialty. when you're teaching students how to explode a kidney with a handshake, you probably just play it safe and try to put the fear of god into them before any kidneys get exploded. i wanted this class to have a much heavier emphasis on safety of the participants than the class in secretary, with a more focused goal than "who can beat the shit out of each other better." i think the goal of fighting to show off knowledge here is still Fucking Insane, but it's just. their culture, i guess. you can technically "move" your pressure points, so being able to defend yourself by utilizing this knowledge can also show off what you've retained. the mouse next to him is a proctor, who is an extra teacher brought in to judge and often write for another teacher, but primarily as a peacekeeper and bouncer. in classes where a student can theoretically totally disable a teacher by just touching them once, the precaution is seen as necessary. the mouse is probably a combat-oriented point invocation instructor.

the mandrill, MK, is a first-season or first-year student -- i assume that one class, from midterms to finals, is a season, as secretary seems to start near autumn. midterms have snow, and finals are during early spring. anyway, that's tangential. i think he's very new to the educational system. i pictured him as a medical student. in his fighting style, i made him more defensive; he doesn't really know nearly as much about attacking an opponent in a fight. he does think at least about his opponent's most immediate reactions, but doesn't have enough experience with fighting to think ahead to the degree that Legend does. you can see him make the same mistake that Legend did against Machinations, which disables his non-dominant hand. needless to say, he will probably always be aware of headbutt proximity now. he attempts to use two factures in the fight within a style meant to evoke debilitating vertigo by manipulating the connection between the occular, vestibular, and proprioceptive systems. it's obvious that he created the style from his medical classes. it is fairly empty as far as styles go. interrupted facture: nystagmus, which causes the world to spin around the opponent by involuntarily twitching the eyes back and forth. second facture: strabismus, which misaligns the pupils, primarily impeding aim. denied by Legend because a honey badger does not rely on vision or a vestibular system as much as a primate does -- not something he really considered when making the style. factures that never ended up being used: pursuit, which forces the target to follow a spinning image of themselves instead of looking where they should; and mask's lasting, which forcibly initiates saccadic masking, suppressing the intake of new visual information altogether.

the large bird is a bateleur. the mouse is just a regular house mouse. the lizard is an ornate sandveld lizard. the opponent of the lizard is a common mole-rat, also called an african mole-rat (even though most species of mole-rats live in africa). the monkey god i'm not super sure but i believe it's just a vervet monkey. the other mouse is also a common house mouse.

GG is a second-year student, which is the last year for a rodent. i think she's been kind of aimless -- she thinks incredibly fast as a squirrel, and finds solving problems in the moment to be a much more successful endeavor than trying to plan ahead. she doesn't worry about the future and doesn't ruminate on the past much. she's aware that she isn't the best ever and doesn't apply herself as much as others, but it also doesn't particularly bother her. kind of ironic, given the aesop she slops onto Legend after the fight. i imagine that she will eventually choose the name Serendipity. i tried to write her lack of foresight, but compensatory quick thinking in both fights. like the shrike, GG is a combat-oriented student. the style she briefly introduces at the beginning is called fanciful flower's delightful blight. it is based on the deadly nightshade flower and its berries -- which are toxic, obviously, and a hallucinogenic. squirrels flick their tails for many reasons, and the most common reason is simply a default flicking to attract predators. their tails are designed to "deglove" easily; if a predator lunges for their tail, which is the moving part of them, the skin and fur will tear off, and the squirrel can escape. delightful blight utilizes the attention-grabbing flicking of the squirrel's tail as a nightshade plant to induce a trance-like state. the berries represent temptations so much more pleasing than what you ought to focus on. a nice berry and a flower to smell are so much nicer than struggling in a fight. even when you resist them, they linger in your mind, and "plant seeds" when the berry falls as self-restraint is worn down over repeated abstinence from the temptation. factures induce hallucinations and nausea. she primarily uses the base rodent style to fight Legend here, but also uses base squirrel style twists, which include more acrobatics, backflipping, and contortions.

the two things that really catch Legend off-guard use limbs that she doesn't have, and most opponents don't have -- elbows long enough to use defensively, and a long, rope-like tail. she is otherwise supposed to be fairly adept at analyzing what an opponent will do, usually a few steps ahead, related to her ability to fabricate narratives quickly. you can see her also come up with a lie for kicking GG fairly quickly... she was going to say the impulse was in her legs because she was trying to move away from GG's strike.

anyway if any part of this fight is like... unfathomable i can probably explain. i've already been typing for way too long, lmfao

[kiruamon]

Spring through the Seasons AU - Meeting the Summer

Newest story part for this au. Like always there are some sketches inbetween the text that go along with the story. Have fun!

-

Dewdrops sparkled like liquefied light in the golden glow of the morning sun. The grass beneath your feet is still damp as you rise from your bed for the night and stretch. The slender vines on your stole still move sluggishly as they turn towards the sun and the tiny blossoms open themselves as if to greet the new day. You are still trying rather unsuccessfully to suppress another yawn when an amused chuckle sounds to your left.

“Have you finally woken up from your hibernation?”

Of course Moon is already awake. Sometimes you wonder if he ever sleeps at all. Although you still don't feel fully awake, the question makes you giggle. “I'm not a bear, Moon.” Learning that bears and some other animals wandered into Moon's snowy realm to seek shelter for a months-long sleep had once again made you realize how small your previously known world had been. It was fun to talk to Moon. Learning together and comparing your different points of view. Another small yawn slips out of your mouth and you rub a hand over your tired eyes to drive away the remnants of sleep. “Not very convincing,” you can almost hear the smirk in his voice. “Maybe I should help you wake up properly, what do you think Snowflake?”

Huh? “What do you mean wi- ?” But as silently as falling snow, Moon is already at your side. Your body shudders as you feel an icy cold touch on your skin out of the blue. Your eyes wide open in shock, a stifled sound escapes your lips that resembles more that of a squeak than a scream.

Now you're definitely awake! “Wah! S-stop it! I'm awake! I'm awake, Moon!” you shout, half-laughing as you try to push Moon's cold hand away from your neck.

Meanwhile, Moon's eyes show an expression of pure amusement. But at least he allows you to push his hand away without further resistance. Well, almost. His fingers gently wrap around your own, causing a chilly, but in this case also pleasant tingling sensation on your skin as you finally pull your hands away from your neck.

“Hmm, I wonder if that was really enough. Maybe I should play it safe?” his red and white eye twinkle mischievously at you and a small smile appears on his lips. He playfully runs the ice-like fingertips of his free hand over your stomach and down to the hem of your top, which he lightly tugs at once.

Oh no! Noooo way! Absolutely not! You know exactly what he's up to. Just imagining how cold his hand would feel on your stomach would be enough to grow icicles on your vines! But the next moment Moon withdraws his hands and gives you a gentle smile that makes it hard not to grin back.

_

Whereas your journey during the morning had taken you through a tree-shaded forest filled with the songs of insects and birds, you now find yourselves at the edge of a wide open grassland.

The grass is so high here that it spreads up to your hips. Everywhere in the lush green you can make out little colorful splashes of the numerous wildflowers hidden among the grasses.

It's a magical sight that reminds you a little of your own homeland, which you left behind just two days ago. To your and Moon's astonishment, the transition of the borders was much less drastic in this direction. It had been much smoother and barely noticeable at first. But there had been enough hints that you had left your old territory. The lusher and more vibrant foliage of the trees. Plants that seemed familiar to you, but which you hadn't known could also bloom. The sheer number of different bugs that you had never seen before, crawling around on the forest floor or fluttering through the air. There was no doubt that you had made it to the next area and had come a little closer to your destination. Still entranced, you take a step out of the shade of the trees and it feels like you are running into a wall.

The sun is now at its highest point. Framed by a bright blue sky with not even a single cloud in sight. The heat is downright oppressive and almost hostile. Apart from the chirping of a few crickets somewhere further out in the grass, it is eerily quiet. Even the wind seems to have retreated to other parts of this land.

“Should we wait until the sun goes down?” Moon towers up next to you. His eyes narrow slightly against the dazzling light of the sun as his gaze wanders over the open terrain. The sight of him standing there wrapped in his heavy, warm coat almost makes you break out in a sweat. If he does mind the heat, he certainly doesn't show it.

You follow his gaze. Let your eyes wander into the distance. To the scattered trees and bushes that offer none to little protection. Is Moon looking for something in particular? Well, you could be mistaken. “So? What do you think?” you hear him ask.

O-oh! That's right, he asked you a question. A little embarrassed, you look back up at him and your vines bob up and down indecisively. “Well, I guess… “ you begin, going over your options in your head once more. Sure, your journey would be more pleasant in the evening, when the temperatures usually start to drop again. But it was still so long until then and in the end you wouldn't have much time before it would be too dark to continue.

Of course, you were aware that you were in no hurry. There was nothing urging you or Moon and you had already made numerous detours on your way here or paused to enjoy the scenery.

But you were also itching to explore this new area. The vast meadows with all their new and unknown flowers and other small and large wonders that they might be hiding. You didn't know why, but being here together with Moon, made your heart skip faster.

You open your mouth hesitantly. “If you don't mind, I'd like to go a little further,” you admit truthfully, feeling strangely nervous because you're not sure if you're causing Moon any inconvenience with this. Perhaps he has suggested waiting, precisely because the heat is getting to him more than he lets on or- Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a hand on your shoulder. A soft squeeze. You blink. Your eyes travel from the hand on your shoulder up the sleeve right to the face of its owner. … Since when was Moon's face so close?

Deeply leaning towards you, his eyes rest on you. “I don't mind at all. But let's at least head towards the lake,” he suggests. Towards the lake? You follow his eyes, across the meadow and westwards, where a few small groups of trees and bushes are growing in the distance. The suggestion makes perfect sense. If you were to continue in a straight line, there would be miles of open terrain ahead of you. In comparison, the route along the lake seems much more inviting. A smile darts across your lips as you realize once more what a thoughtful person Moon was. You're really grateful that he joined you on your journey.

“Yes, that sounds good. Besides, we could cool off at the lake after all that legwork,” you agree with a grin. A gentle smile appears in Moon's eyes as he slowly stands back up to his full height and - unfortunately - withdraws his hand from your shoulder. For a moment, you can still feel the faint echo of a pleasant tingling sensation that his fingers have left there.

“Just as you wish, my little duckling.” Duckling? Stunned, you stare after him as he takes the first steps ahead through the tall grass, before you come to your senses and hurry after him with quick steps. You're not sure whether your face feels so warm because of the new nickname or the heat.

-

“This way,” Moon's voice is no more than a whisper as you duck down and move quietly behind the thick foliage of the tall bushes. Your heart is still hammering as hard against your chest as if it were a woodpecker relentlessly hammering its beak against a tree. You try to somehow control the trembling in your hands by clenching them tightly together. Don't make a sound. As long as you stay close to Moon, everything will be fine. You silently watch as Moon pushes aside a few branches to peek through a gap between the leaves. Was it still there? You couldn't help but think back to the strange flickering, crimson lights between the group of trees you had headed for on your way to the lake. Something had moved along with the lights in the shadows of the trees. In a way that was unlike any animal you knew… You struggle to hold back a strangled whimper. It's all good. It's all good… A few seconds ago, Moon had grabbed you in an instant - an alarmed expression on his face - and pulled you with him to the bushes where you were seeking shelter now. You can hear footsteps nearby as you both crouch down even further. Moon turns around to face you. Putting a finger to his lips as he inches closer to your side.

-

He hates to see you so anxious. The delicate vines on your stole curled up so tightly and trembling like the thin branches in a winter storm on the verge of snapping. He needed a plan to get you out of here safely. A secure route out of this predicament. Who could have guessed that some beast was lurking out here. “It's all right. It doesn't know where we are,” he whispers quietly to you. To be honest, he has no idea what this… thing actually is. Even just now, he hadn't been able to get a good look without risking being spotted. And what little he had seen had stirred an obscure feeling of unease in him that he had never experienced before. All his instincts screamed at him to stay away. Those glowing red lights whose contours were constantly changing… He had never seen anything like it before. And if possible, he would make sure it stayed that way. If only to ensure your safety. He listens carefully to the footsteps. How they first came closer and then turned away again and became quieter. Good… Perhaps he will be able to scout out a safe path for you.

-

“Stay here. I'll have a quick look around the area to see if there's any way to avoid that thing without it noticing us again,” Moon whispers to you. You feel a lump in your throat at these words. Is Moon going to do this all by himself? The idea frightens you. He shouldn't have to do this alone… You want to make yourself useful too… “But Moon… I should also… “ you murmur in a quivering voice. However, Moon just shakes his head silently. “… don't worry about me. Everything will be fine. Promise me you'll wait here." You're still not really comfortable with that thought. But… in the end, you nod with a heavy heart. Maybe Moon is right. Maybe you would just be a drag on him. To be honest… your legs still feel so wobbly, like they're being pushed back and forth by ocean waves. If you accompany him like this, you'll just end up tripping over your own feet and risk to get caught. “ … I… “ you begin still heavy-hearted: “ … I will wait for you here. I promise… ” Moon looks relieved. You know he's just worried, but you feel terrible about letting him go off on his own. And yet… the little smile and his hand, which he gently places on your head for a moment, gives you a little bit of courage. “My brave little Snowflake… ” He says it so proudly… so lovingly. Yet you feel anything but brave. And still, you want to put on a brave face for him. To not worry him any further. “Just hold on a little longer, alright?” “Yes, just Moon… Please take care of yourself.” Just as he turns around and says: “I will” you catch a small glimpse of a smile on his lips.

-

Despite trying to sound somewhat confident earlier, you feel hopelessly lost now that Moon is gone. With your legs pulled close to your body and your arms wrapped around them, you huddle yourself into the leaves and branches to hide as best you can. Every second that passes feels like an hour. Your senses feel like they are running at full speed. Hypersensitive to every little movement or the slightest rustle of leaves around you. Hopefully Moon will be back soon… The crack of a breaking branch makes you flinch. Unconsciously, your breath catches until you realize that the sound came from somewhere behind you. On the other side of your hiding place. Moon? A passing animal? Or was it… ? You swallow hard. Carefully and as quietly as possible, you shift your weight. Slowly you get up to your knees and turn around. For a moment you hesitate. Stuck between the urge to see where the noise came from or simply to stay hidden as Moon had advised. No… It's all good. If you were careful and didn't venture too far from your hiding place, a quick look wouldn't hurt. You take a deep breath. Carefully pushing your feet off the ground and straightening up until you can peek over the edge of the bushes. Your heart almost stops when your gaze is reciprocated. With the sun in it's back, you see a tall figure towering above you. Shadows lie across their oddly shaped face and the effect is only heightened by the two lights blazing upwards on both their shoulders. You stare at each other. Neither of you moves. As if you were both frozen to stone. Too startled by the encounter to even make a sound.

-

He's the first out of you two to awaken from his stupor. A blink. And another, as if he couldn't quite believe his own eyes. What are you? He's never seen anything as strange as you in his entire life. He carefully raises his hands and pushes the top branches of the bushes a little further aside to get a better look at you. You seem so small compared to him. A bit like a frightened animal that could run away at any given moment. He finds it difficult to take his eyes off you. And actually, he doesn't want to. He's much more interested in finding out what or who you are. His upper body tilts curiously closer to you.

-

Oh dear! So much for staying hidden. And Moon still hadn't returned. But now it - or he? - had discovered you. Contrary to your earlier concerns, he doesn't look as if he's about to attack you. And… the longer you stare at each other in silence, the more you hope that the situation might not be as grim as you initially feared. Maybe… maybe he's actually quite nice? He reminds you even a tiny bit of Moon. “Uhm… well… hi?” a little shy and somewhat tense, you raise a hand and try to give him a small smile, even though your heart is about to jump out of your chest from sheer nervousness. Even your vines are trying to hide under your stole.

_

You can speak! He could hardly believe it! And the way you're standing there in front of him… So insecure and with that shy smile on your face as you look at him with your big eyes, it reminds him of a newborn fawn. Simply adorable! He absolutely needed to know more about you!

-

Before you can even react, he grabs you under your shoulders and scoops you up to the level of his own face. A broad, almost beaming grin adorns the stranger's face as he says in an unexpectedly chipper tone: "Oh my! Aren't you an interesting little fellow! What's your name, my friend?" Seems like he really is harmless after all.

TBC

_

Soooooo that's Sun! Yay! His first appearance in the story! He is such a goofy goofball.

[dozing-marshmallow]

helloo!! the og nibling requester here (hehe i gave myself that nickname :] ) okay, i've kinda got two ideas!! nibling!reader getting comfort from chris (n had an argument with someone, you can pick who) or, gn!reader x chris having a snow day :] you can pick either! thank you for the amazing stories <33

AWW HELLO AGAIN MY LOVE!❤️ Welcome back to my blog, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long! Thank you so much for your well meaning words, you are such a beaut, but really, you should be thanking yourself for giving the amazing requests! As always, I hope you enjoy!💗(and feel free to request the other idea again if it’s something you want to see in the future!)

CHRIS MCLEAN X NIBLING! READER HEADCANONS (PART 7)

It’s another school break, and you’re back.

Back on your uncle’s couch, watching TV.

You thought you had imagined it, but keeping your attention longer on the window rewarded you with the reality of the consistent fall of the watery fluff.

You come closer and your heart jumps in delight.

It’s snowing!

Squealing, you rush from the living room to find your uncle, to inform him of nature’s miracle, to get him to go outside with you, to to to!

“Chris?” you run up to his bedroom door and knock on it rhythmically, singing,“Do you wanna build a snowman? Come on let’s go and play-“

The door opens. Oh! Guess you didn’t need to go through the entire song, even though you had prepared for it.

The occupant snickers, pointing finger guns down at you, ski goggles on,“Already ahead of ya!”

Because this was the first time camp Wawanakwa was getting snow, you and Chris had to improvise on snow gear.

Well, you had to. Chris already had his set of winter clothes. Fortunately, you had your coat, mittens and worn out Wellington boots laying around somewhere and you got to borrow Chris’ pair of earmuffs and his scarf.

Stepping outside, it was a completely different air. The freezing change of temperature nibbled your skin like a shrew on a worm and the hairs on your arms somehow were tensing up when you just stepped outside. You forgot how cold the planet can be.

“I didn’t know islands could get snow! It’s so much!” you yell, throwing your legs up to merry about.

“You learn something new everyday!”

“Look! The whole trampoline is covered in snow!” you point astonished at the bouncy garden toy of springs, now submerged under the husking snowfall. 

You had to be careful where you walked, come to realise- the entire island as you knew it was masked by this misty paleness that only seemed to thicken as more of its leader piled next to your ankles.

Naturally, you didn’t think about the dangers of gleefully hopping into the smooth slopes so soon, until you see that you’re about to walk into a chunky physique of a tree.

You stop on time, and feel something moving above you. Something alive. You feed your curiosity, finding a large pair of indigo eyes and a pointy nose.

“Look, Chris look!” you call cheerfully for him, neck extended to the sky,“There’s an owl up there!”

There was! You got to hold one once. It was heavy, but kind! This owl was as keen as you about this sudden weather pattern, sitting on top of the high tree branch, nuzzled in its feathery neck, before tending to its nest, seeing another identical head and two peek from inside of the dry tree room,“Aw, it has babies! They’re so cute!” you see your uncle aside you, also observing,“Do you think they’ll be okay in the cold?”

“Sure they will. They’re adapted to survive weathers like these.” his answer was bluntly uninspiring, grazing accurately to his non-peculiar passion for animals despite him being surrounded by them everyday,“Now about that snowman...”

“Oh yes! Let’s goooo...” you rotate to find a vacant opening,“Down there! Where we’ll have plenty of snow!”

Chris had another idea, trailing behind your steps, boots consuming your smaller tracks,"How about we have a competition? Best snowman gets first dibs on the fireplace." he obviously knew what would happen to bet that.

“Aww...” you pout, the tip of your nose starting to tingle,"Why do we need to compete? You know you're gonna win, you have bigger hands!"

"Ohh?” he puts a finger to his chin, smirking,“Already admitting defeat? I'll gladly take the title of victory!"

Something about his unnecessarily fuelled pride abruptly changed your mind,“I won't let the size of your hands stop me from building the best snowman the world's ever seen!"

“Alrighty then!” he holds his arms out, wind must’ve changed the direction to glue that face on his face,“Bring it on, nibling!”

The cold air howls past your face. Your tongue catches a few drops of snow, heading off under competition stress to mark your own construction ground,“How is it on tv they’re able to roll the snowball so smoothly?”

“You’ve been on tv yourself, (Y/N).” your uncle replies in a raised tone, moulding some snow from the ground into a sphere, still standing in the same position,“You should be able to figure it out.”

You somehow found some stones under this blank layer of Earth to place on the snowman’s torso and practically identical lengths of twigs for arms. The only thing missing was its clothes, but with this snowfall, it’d be a death wish to even remove these earmuffs!

You look over to Chris’ side: though his snowman was vast, you can tell from his relaxed pace of motion that he actually couldn’t be bothered to make it look good.

“Pretty awesome snowman!” he congratulates you on yours by the unspoken end.

You’re very proud,“Yep! I did that!” It was so good you would have thought Chris made it!,“Too bad he decomposed early."

Confused, your uncle cocks his head to the side,"What do you mean?"

Unprompted, you tore a piece of the snowman’s shoulder and threw it at Chris, striking his chest,"Boom! Take that!"

He wipes the remaining frozen fragments off him,“Is that what we’re going to do now?” he briefly returns to his sloppy snowman and removed its head from the body of snow, darkly joking,“Remember that’s how your teddy looked like that one time?”

“Because of Heather!” you giggle, now able to fill your newer days with laughter about the tragedy you genially moved on from,“Ahh!”

Your uncle starts to chase you with both hands full of the clump of crystals. You liked running in the snow- every time you placed a foot ahead, it’d let out this really soothing crunch sound.

Whenever you think you’re far enough with time to spare, you’d hurry to grab a good handful of snow from the ground to throw at him, stride never getting slower.

I wish footprints didn’t exist!

Eventually, he makes an extra step for the chance and launches it, not thinking it would stay in the air for so long.

No amount of running could save you from the hurl of the large cannon ball- on impact, you land on your back into a lower plane of snow, where on a warmer day, you would’ve seen how high you fell from the mini hill.

Chris was worried when you don’t instantly recover to your feet, but smiles when he rushed to find you parting and closing your legs, raising and lowering your arms in the digging form of a snow angel, seeing the distribution of uneven crumbles of his snowman’s head.

The snowflakes resumes to sprinkle your face, gently pecking your youthful features with the cooling drops of white. It wasn’t so cold anymore,“Hehehe! Do one with me, uncle Chris!”

So he does, not surprising that his one was much larger, with his height and fur coat.

You jump up from the soggy ground and admire another work of art you both had shaken into the bitter sheet.

The nibling and uncle silhouettes in the snow had you remembering another must do in this foggy weather.

“Chriiiis, can we go back inside now and have hot chocolate?”

He groans in disbelief,“Seriously? Boooooooo.” he reluctantly dragged his legs across the snow, in the direction of his “cottage”. You can see it from the distance, the yellow beams illuminating the squares of glass, probably being the only reason why he knew how to get back,“What a perfect time to get ice cream.”

“Ah...” it felt great to be back inside. His house was soooo cosy. And this hot chocolate was just what you needed. You might need to dump your feet into a tub of hot water,“Uncle, do you think we can play some Christmas songs?”

“Why, because it’s snowing it means it’s the holidays?” right after he snorted, his mouth is covered by the back of his mug. Paradoxically, he was back in his indoor clothes before you, reminding you once again that your uncle really was unpredictable.

“The holidays wanted to come early! Which meaaans I’ll be getting extra time off school!” you clutch giggly to the circumference of your mug, hands burning. More time to stay, more time to play!

“But that means no holidays during December.” he smirks, twirling his steamy cocoa around, sinister to your let down.

“Aww...” you hated how realistic that sounded. School was so mean!,“Never mind...” there wouldn’t be enough time to open presents. You pitifully pinch a marshmallow from your cup and chomp on it.

“Hey, no need to be so down!” Chris’ charismatic voice rasps as he rubs your head,“Christmas is right around the corner.”

“True...” you add another swirl of whipped cream to your cup, covering the homely brown,“Will I get to be here then?”

“For sure! It’ll be the best Christmas yet!” he affirms with strength.

Hm hm (hm). Hm hm hm hm hm hm hm.

[onlycosmere]

OUTSIDE by Brandon Sanderson

Snow is falling. So I look up.

The world mystifies when you stare up through falling snow. Even standing still, you can soar. Even alone, you are surrounded. Even mundane, you find magic. I’ve spent my life chasing the fantastical, yet everything I’ve ever imagined can be casually matched by someone tilting their head up. The soft. Settling. Aspiration.

Of snow on an otherwise ordinary day.

When I was eighteen, I moved from Nebraska to Utah. Here, snow is fleeting, embarrassed to be an obstruction. But in Nebraska, snow squats. It claims land, builds empires. You fight it all winter, carving pathways, reconquering your sidewalks. The cold digs inside, frosting your bones with a chill that lingers, even after you return to warmth.

I often think of those snowy days, now that I live in a desert. But each year my memories are a little less fresh. We build our lives with layer upon layers of years, like falling snow. And like the new snow, most experiences melt away. In interviews, I’ve been asked to recount my most frightening experience. I struggle to answer because it’s the lost memories that scare me—the unnerving knowledge that I’ve forgotten the majority of moments that made me who I am. Those dribbled away when I wasn’t looking and joined the spring runoff of life.

Fortunately, some experiences do remain. In one, I’m fourteen, and it’s a cold night in Nebraska. My best friend at the time was a boy we’ll call John. Though we went to different schools, he was one of the only other Mormon kids around, so our parents often had us play together. When you’re very young, it’s proximity—not shared interests—that makes friends. This often changes as you age. By fourteen, John had found his way to basketball, parties, and popularity. I had not.

On that day, after a youth activity, another friend suggested we leave to go have some fun. I don’t remember where. Strange, that I’ve lost what this was about, though the rest of the scene is etched into the glacial part of my brain. One of us was old enough to drive, so we headed out to their car.

Five seats. Six teens. They’d already counted.

Without a word to me, the others climbed in. John gave me one hesitant look, then settled into the front passenger seat and closed the door. They left me on the curb. The car vanished, taillights flaring in the night like lit cigarettes.

The memory settled in for the long winter. That night. Watching. Remembering John’s face, which was so strikingly conflicted. Half ashamed. Half resigned.

I was no stranger to being outside. It happens when you’re one of three Mormon kids in a large school. You’ll be at a birthday party, and the wine coolers will come out. Everyone stands there worrying you’ll judge them—while you just want them to stop staring. But you leave anyway, because you know they’ll enjoy themselves more if you and your unusual morals aren’t there to loom.

It should have been different that night though, watching John and the others drive away. They were in my church group—ostensibly, my tribe. They’d still left me outside.

This event shocked me in how dramatic it was, as I wasn’t generally bullied. I tended to be adept at social settings. People generally liked me. At the same time, there was something I’d begun to notice. Something distancing about me.

It happens still. It isn’t that people shun me or don’t want me around; indeed, they seem to appreciate me. When I join a group, I generally end up leading it in some way, and I never sense resentment to this fact. But I also have an air around me. Some writer friends call me the “adult in the room.” I tend to attack projects too aggressively, tend to be the one who steps in and gets things done—even when they don’t need to be done immediately, and when everyone else would rather relax.

This comes, in part, from a certain…oddity about me that started in my young teens, around the time that John drove off. As my friends grew hit puberty, they became more emotional. The opposite happened to me. Instead of experiencing the wild mood swings of adolescence, my emotions calcified. I started waking up each day feeling roughly the same as the day before. Without variation.

Around me, people felt passion, and agony, and hatred, and ecstasy. They loved, and hated, and argued, and screamed, and kissed, and seemed to explode every day with a pressurized confetti of unsettling emotions.

While I was just me. Not euphoric, not miserable. Just…normal. All the time.

Often, it genuinely seems like I exist outside of human experience. It’s not sociopathy. I’m quite empathetic—in fact, empathy is one of the ways that I can feel stronger emotions. I’m not autistic. I don’t have a single hallmark of that notable brand of neurodivergence. It’s also not what is called alexithymia, which is a condition where someone doesn’t feel emotions (or can’t describe them).

I care about people, and I feel. I’m not empty or apathetic. My emotions are simply muted and hover in a narrow band. If human experience ranges between a morose one and an ecstatic ten, I’m almost always a seven. Every day. All day. My emotional “needle” tends to be very hard to budge—and when it does move, the change is not aggressive. When others would be livid or weeping, I feel a sense of discomfort and disquiet.

My emotions do go a little further than this on occasion, maybe once a year. It takes something incredible—such as being deeply betrayed by someone I trusted.

I’m not looking for sympathy; I don’t want to be fixed. I appreciate this aspect of my makeup—and it’s part of what makes me so consistent at writing. When everyone else is in crisis, I’ll just steam along. At the same time, when everyone else is elated by some good news…I’ll just steam along, unable to feel the heights of the joy they feel.

It makes people uncomfortable sometimes. Makes them think I’m judging them. While I’m absolutely not, I do try to be careful how I talk about my condition. Not as something to fear. Something, instead, I’m proud of—not because it makes me better than anyone else, but because it’s me. I like being me.

My neurodivergence came up in a recent interview I did. The interviewer latched onto the fact that I don’t feel pain like others do. (More accurately, some mild pains don’t cause in me the same response they do others.) I asked the interviewer not to mention it in his article, as I felt the tone to our discussion was wrong. I worry about my oddity changing the way people think of me, as I don’t want to be seen as an emotionless zombie. So I try to speak of it with nuance.

As the interviewer ignored my request, I thought I’d talk about it here. Profile myself for you—because this aspect of who I am has deep ties to another happening from my teenage years. In this, I want to answer a big question for you, the one everyone wonders about. The key to understanding Brandon Sanderson.

Why do I write?

Why do I write so much?

Why do I write so much fantasy?

Let me tell you about the first day, that beautiful day, when I found myself inside.

It was when I opened a fantasy novel. I was an isolated kid whose emotions were doing something bizarre. Even John leaving had left me feeling…disturbed more than angry. Alone, and outside. Then I opened a book where I found emotion.

In that story about dragons, and wonder, and people trying impossible things, I found myself. I felt a variety of powerful emotions through the characters—emotions that I remembered from when I’d been younger.

I hadn’t tried reading fiction in a long while, so I was blindsided by this perfect book. The experience transformed me, quick as a boy tilting his head back, looking up, and finding a new world.

When I read or write from the eyes of other people, I legitimately feel what they do. There’s magic to any kind of story, yes—but for me, it is transformative. I live those lives. For a brief time, I remember exactly what passion, and agony, and hatred, and ecstasy feel like. My emotions mold to the story, and I cry sometimes. I legitimately cry. I haven’t done that outside of a story in three decades.

Stories bring me inside.

My second published novel is called Mistborn. It’s about a world where ash falls like snow, and I can linger, looking up through it via a character’s eyes. Near the beginning of Mistborn, the teenage protagonist finds herself standing outside a room. It is full of light and laughter and warmth. But she knows, she knows she doesn’t belong inside that room.

She’s wrong.

Nearer the end of the book, I linger on as similar scene—only now, she’s sitting with the others. Light and laughter. Warmth. Mistborn was the first novel I wrote after getting the call offering me a book deal. Finally—after slaving over a dozen unpublished manuscripts—I knew I was going to be a professional writer. With that knowledge, I wrote Mistborn, the book about a girl who learns to come inside.

While writing Mistborn, I changed. Now that I’d made it inside of publishing—now that I’d joined those authors I’d loved for so long—why would I keep writing? I needed a new goal, and I discovered it that year.

So let me tell you why I write. It isn’t about worldbuilding; that’s a mistake everyone makes about me. Assuming I write because of worldbuilding is like assuming someone makes cars because they love cup holders. It’s also not because I’m Mormon, as some profiles bizarrely conclude. My faith and cultural heritage are both important to me, but if I were any other religion, that aspect of me would rightly be a footnote—not a headline.

I don’t write for plot twists, or dragons, or clever turns of phrase—though I enjoy all of these. I write because stories bring people inside. And I sincerely, genuinely believe that is what the world needs.

Lately, I’ve seen a resurgence of something that genuinely disquiets me: an attempt by some members of our community to hold others outside. Science fiction and fantasy is forever gatekeeping what constitutes good or worthy stories. Like my old friend John, who sought cooler friends, we renounce anything accessible—part of our perpetual (and largely fruitless) plea for legitimacy with the literary establishment.

Thing is, I can’t really get mad when someone does this, because I’ve done it myself in the past. The unfortunate truth is that we all probably have at times. The moment a group finds cohesion—discovering the warmth and peace of being inside—we decide there aren’t enough seats, so we start muscling and pushing. Readers who came in because of the latest popular teen novel? Outside. Fans of the film version of a story, instead of the book version? Outside. People who don’t look the same as the supposedly conventional fan? I suspect they know this struggle far better than I do.

To use a thematic metaphor, it’s like we’re dragons on our hoard of gold, jealously keeping watch, worrying that if anyone new enters, their presence will somehow dilute our enjoyment. The irony is that there is infinite space inside, and if we open the way, we’ll find many of these newcomers are the very treasure we’re seeking.

Fantasy, out of all genres, should embrace the different, even if it doesn’t match our specific taste. This is the genre where anything can happen—and should, therefore, be the most open genre. Only fantasy offers me the full range of emotion. The wonder of exploration. The magnificent highs of epic scope and the miserable lows of cataclysmic terror. In writing it, I can learn. Monomaniacal, I hunt experiences of people different from myself, then explore them in prose until I feel—in some small part—what they do.

This is why I write. To understand. To make people feel seen. I type away, hoping some lonely reader out there, left on a curb, will pick up one of my books. And in so doing learn that even if there is no place for them elsewhere, I will make one for them between these pages.

Those who interview me seem to have trouble understanding this fundamental part of who I am: that writing for me isn’t so much about performance as it is about exploration and elevation. I love prose both literary and commercial. And I think I write great prose. I’ve slaved over my style, practicing for decades, honing it for crisp clarity. My prose is usually intended to convey ideas, theme, and character, then get out of the way—because this is how I strive to bring everyone inside.

That said, I know my goal is impossible. Occasional strolls through the outside are part of being human, and I can’t eliminate that. And even I have to admit that there are lessons to be learned on those lonely paths. For example, contrast is the only way to appraise growth. Emotional alien I may be, but that very alienation has motivated me to understand. I value the connections I’ve made so much more for that struggle.

Moreover, I find that occasionally looking in through a window at everyone else gives a person a more complete perspective. Inside, things can get messy, and a streak of color finds it hard to comprehend the painting. I’m a better writer because of my time spent looking in. I don’t know that I could have written Mistborn if I hadn’t been left on that curb.

This isn’t to discount the pain of those who have been forced outside. Nor is it an advocacy for extended periods spent in the cold. I also don’t know if I could have written Mistborn if the wonderful people of the science fiction and fantasy community (including many of the friends I now work with) hadn’t latched on to me in college and—at times—forcibly pulled me inside to be with them. Beyond that, as I’ve grown older, I’ve found people like Emily, who love me in spite of (and partially because of) my quirks. Blessedly, because of this, my times outside have been increasingly brief.

My goal here is merely to point out (as I’ve had occasion to remember recently) that beautiful moments do accompany the isolation. You can only watch the snow fall when you’re outside. Only then can you look up and experience that mystifying world, where fragments of the sky drift past and lift you toward the heavens.

I’m forty-seven now, enjoying desert snowfalls in early April. The man I am is separated by distance and time from that boy who stood on the curb, and I’ve forgotten most of the steps that led between the two. I still don’t feel strong emotions outside of stories—but I did tell an interviewer lately that I sometimes cry when writing scenes in my books. They just aren’t the scenes that I thought he’d expect.

I don’t necessarily cry when characters die, or when they marry, or even when they find victory. I cry when it works. When it all comes together, and in a beautiful shimmering burst of humanity, I feel what it is to be that character. At those times, I remember what I learned twenty years ago writing Mistborn. That there’s a reason I do this. And even if I’ve lost more memories than I retain, each of them had a point, because they collectively brought me here.

So when you find yourself in the cold, know that sometimes, there’s a purpose to it. Trust me; I’ve been there. I might be there right now. Feeling the cold on my cheeks—but these days, no longer in my bones. Knowing that this will pass, and that it might be for my good. Most of all, looking up so I can appreciate it. The still. Solemn. Perspective.

Of one who stands outside.

[plumbobatea]

Interlude | Season 2

3 weeks later...

December 27, 2024

Dear diary,

You won't believe who I'm with right now! Parth is here!! FINALLY!!

And no.. it's not a dream this time.

He's REALLY here! We've reunited after what felt like an eternity!

He had come to pick me up at the Oasis Springs airport on the 24th. We hugged each other tight like we'd promised we would🥹

I felt a bit awkward at first (that happens every time we meet after months). But once he held my hand, I felt at ease.

We then headed to his home.

It was a lot bigger than I had imagined and beautifully decorated with Christmas lights. I spent the next few days here.

Also, I finally got to meet his parents🙈. I was so nervous at the beginning but they made me feel at home. They were really sweet to me.

His mom had made a grand feast for Christmas and I loved her food! She's a great cook!

After lunch, Parth gave me a home tour and showed me his bedroom.. it felt strange yet surreal to be standing in the very room I had only ever seen on my phone screen before... It felt like I'd been there before in a dream or something but I hadn't really been there, you know what I mean..?

Anyway... the next day, Parth's mother showed me some exclusive baby photos of him (you know, just to tease him) But that made him really mad and he kinda started yelling at his mom and they had an argument (which felt more like them roasting each other) while I just sat there feeling very awkward.

But his sister (who was also staying over for Christmas) told me not to bother cause they're always like this and I'll eventually get used to them goofing around.

I even met Parth's little niece Sayuri. She's SO adorable. I played dolls with her and read her many storybooks.

She grew really attached to me (she even cried a lot when we left for the airport😢)

But the best part of this trip were the presents!☺️

While I was unwrapping the gifts I had received from Parth's parents, he handed me two plane tickets to Mt. Komorebi!! 😍

And that's where we're headed now...

...for our five-day trip to the snow-clad mountains! I guess, this was the surprise he had planned for me! 🥰

This is our first overnight trip together🙈🙈 so I'm a bit nervous and giddy and just feeling all kinds of feels LOL.

For now, I'm just going to soak up every moment with Parth and cherish this winter magic. Bring on the snow, the laughter and the memories- I'm ready for whatever life has in store for us!

< previous | beginning | next >

[icemankazansky]

What about a spy AU for Ice and Mav???

Thanks for playing! I hope you are open for an omegaverse spy AU, because that is what happened.

Maverick takes the long way around the safehouse as per usual, checking the perimeter before entering.  He notices a single white rose tucked between the curtains and the glass in his bedroom window, and smiles.

The traps have been disengaged, as he knew they would be, but he’s careful opening the door, anyway.  It’s dark in the entryway; Maverick can see low lights on down the hall, and there’s a record playing softly somewhere further into the house.  He follows the noise, the low light, like a moth drawn to flame.

“Honey, I’m home,” he says softly when he reaches the source.  

There are lamps on in the living room: just low, warm light.  The record spins; it’s one of Ice’s, playing something slow and moody.  Ice himself is in the plush armchair beside what was once a fireplace and is now a cleverly concealed cache of weapons and tech.  When Maverick enters, Ice slides a bookmark between the pages of his book and sets it down on the side table.  

He smiles, a warm, gentle thing.  “Hey, stranger.”

They meet halfway, embracing in near synchrony.  Ice nuzzles Maverick’s cheekbone, then finds his mouth, kissing him slowly, deeply, well.  

“Missed you,” Ice murmurs, then licks hot into Maverick’s mouth.  

Ice’s hands grip him, not needfully, but almost like he’s afraid if he doesn’t hold on, Maverick will slip away.  Something feels off.  Maverick runs his hands over Ice’s body gently, checking for any sign of injury.  He finds none.  Disquieted, he breaks away from Ice’s kisses, just a little, kissing his cheek, the joint of his jaw, his throat.  Maverick licks over the scent gland on the side of Ice’s neck, urging a shuddering breath out of him, and then breaths in deep, lips parted so he can get every bit of information Ice’s pheromones have to offer.

Ice feels safe in Maverick’s arms, a respite he’s been desperate for finally here: the one safe place that is actually safe.  He wants to burrow into his alpha’s embrace and never leave.  That’s not unusual.  Maverick smells that on Ice often.  But there’s something else behind it, a much fainter but nevertheless insistent sour tang of anxiety.  And something else beneath all of it, the whisper of a powdery sweetness, like a young girl’s first perfume.  Not the warm, sticky sweet of Ice’s heat, but something Maverick cannot place.

“You could just ask,” Ice says softly.

Maverick pulls away just enough to look him in the face.  “Do you feel like talking?”

Ice looks at him.  Pulls back a step, out of his embrace.  “You want a drink?”

Ice doesn’t wait for an answer, just goes to the kitchen and begins pulling out ingredients.  Maverick follows him.

“Ice,” he says gently, “are you in some kind of trouble?”

Ice laughs, short and sharp.  “Uh, that is … an interesting way to put it.”

Ice sets the kettle to boil.  He’s fished bourbon and honey from the cabinets; Maverick imagines he’s looking for cinnamon sticks, which he won’t find there.  It’s cold today, but not cold enough that Maverick thought of a hot toddy when Ice offered him a drink.

“Look at me,” Maverick says.

Ice turns.  Looks at him, eyes the steely blue of a stormy sky.

“I don’t care what it is,” Maverick says.  “Tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll fix it.  I’ll take care of you.”

He sees Ice soften so quickly and so completely that it’s like watching a video of three months of winter and snow transitioning to the bright blooms of spring, sped up to play in mere seconds.

“I’m pregnant,” Ice says.

And now this moment, time slows, mere seconds stretching over a season.

“Oh,” Maverick says.  And then, “Oh.  Oh.”

Ice looks away, some of the frost returning.  “You don’t have to do anything about it—”

“Stop,” Maverick says.  He closes the space between them, takes Ice by the wrist; when Ice won’t look at him, he uses his free hand to turn Ice’s chin so he’s facing him.  Ice’s eyes flicker up, the Arctic Sea, an impossibly clear, glacial blue.  He looks hopeful.  He looks young.  

He’s beautiful.

“You’ve already decided, haven’t you?” Maverick says.  “I know you better than anyone.  I can see it on your face: You didn’t think you could ever have this, so you wrote it off.  No use wishing for something that’ll never come.  But now it’s happened, on accident, almost, and you find that you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything.  But you still think you can’t have it, so you’ve decided that instead of letting yourself have the best thing that will ever happen to you—”

“It’s impossible,” Ice says.

“We do impossible things every day!  We were trained for it, Ice.  It’s our business.  It’s our … our craft, our art.”

Ice is breathing shallowly, and he’s flushed high up on his cheeks, which Maverick knows means he’s trying not to cry.

“Ice, I love you.  I want you.  I want you always, I want the baby; I want any and every single thing that will make you happy.  I will get it for you.  I will do it for you.  This will be hard, but we can do it together.  We’ll get you out.  We’ll get you a new name, and I will find you a safe place, and if you just trust me, I will spend the rest of my life making impossible things happen for you.”

Ice does cry, now, and he closes his eyes against it, reaches out for Maverick, who pulls him into a tight embrace.  Maverick can feel Ice’s heart beating against his chest, can smell the relief and joy coming off him like a lighthouse beacon, and he knows what Ice’s answer is before he even speaks it.

“Yes.”

[canirove]

Kylian Mbappé Imagine | four

Little summary: This was a very detailed request, but basically, you are Kylian's girlfriend, go watch him play with his little brother Ethan, and it starts snowing, something a bit weird since it is March. Hope you like it and thank you for reading! ☺️💜

Masterlist

"So, what's the plan for today?"

"I'm meeting with Ethan at the stadium and we are watching the game together."

"Same as always, then."

"Yep."

"That kid adores you, you know?"

"I'm a very adorable person" I smile.

"You definitely are, yes" Kylian laughs. "If there is someone who loves you more than I do, that's him."

"But it is brotherly love. Ours is more... You know."

"Oh, I know" he smirks, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer to him.

"Kylian, you are gonna be late."

"I have time" he says, starting to kiss my neck.

"No, you don't" I giggle. "With this weather everyone is definitely taking their cars, and you will end up stuck in traffic."

"They say it is gonna snow."

"Then you better hurry up. C'mon" I say, freeing myself from his grip.

"Ok, fine" he sighs. "But we are finishing this after the game."

"Ethan is spending the night with us."

"Urgh" Kylian complains, rolling his eyes.

"We'll have plenty of time when he leaves, don't worry. And now go or you will definitely be late."

"Ok, ok" he says as he starts walking towards the main door. "One more thing before I leave, tho."

"What now."

"Promise me that you will wear your warmest coat today. I don't want a frozen girlfriend" he chuckles.

"I will, I promise."

"There also is a blanket on the car, you can take it."

"I'll keep it in mind. Anything else?"

"Just one more thing."

"Kylian..."

"I love you" he says before kissing my cheek.

"I love you too. Now go, go!" I say, opening the door for him and basically kicking him out while he just laughs.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Ethan! Finally!" I say when we meet at the stadium's parking. "Where were you?"

"We were stuck in traffic" he shrugs.

"And your coat?"

"Oh, shit! I forgot it in my friend's car!"

"Ethan! It is freezing outside!"

"I know, I'm sorry" he shrugs again.

"You are so lucky your brother left one of his coats on our car..." I say, opening the boot.

"Wait, is that a blanket?"

"Yes, it is. The coat isn't long enough to cover your legs, you'll freeze through all those holes on your jeans. Didn't you have anything else to wear?"

"These are my favourite jeans. And it is almost spring, it should be warm!"

"Yeah, it should" I say, giving him the coat.

"Are you mad?" Ethan asks me while we walk towards the stands.

"No, of course not. I just worry about you, you know? You are like my little brother."

"And you are like my big sis" he smiles. "Kylian couldn't have picked a better girl, to be honest."

"Oh, stop it" I laugh.

"It's the truth. And fuck, it is cold" he says when we walk outside.

"Ethan, language!" I chuckle.

"Sorry."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Here they are! My two favourite people" Kylian says when we meet him after the game.

"Hello, handsome" I say, kissing him.

"Ewww" Ethan complains behind us.

"Ewww for now. Rather sooner than later you won't be saying the same" his brother laughs. "Did you have fun?"

"It was too cold to have fun" Ethan says.

"Is that why you are wearing a blanket over your shoulders? And is that my coat?"

"Yeah" he shrugs.

"Your little brother here forgot his coat in his friend's car and chose to wear jeans full of holes, so I had to give him the blanket and even hug him at one point to try and warm him up" I explain.

"It is March! Who knew it was going to start snowing!"

"I did" Kylian says.

"Why don't we make ourselves some hot chocolate when we make it home, uh? That will definitely warm us up" I suggest.

"I would love that!" Ethan says.

"I would love other ways to warm up, but yeah, ok."

"Kylian!" I say, hitting him on the chest.

"What?" he replies, trying to hide a smile.

"Shall we get going?"

"Yes!" Ethan says. "And while we have that chocolate, can we watch something on tv? There is this new show about zombies that looks so cool."

"We can check it out" I smile.

"Yes! You are like the bestest ever" Ethan says, hugging me.

"Aww, thank you" I say, hugging him back.

"Ok, enough with the hugs. Let's go home" Kylian says.

"Jealous?" I ask him while we walk towards the car, Ethan all excited telling us about the plot of this new show he wants to watch.

"Very. I also want hugs."

"You'll get all the hugs and cuddles you want when we go to bed and it is just you and I."

"And what about finishing what we started before the game?" he asks with a teasing smile.

"Maybe."

"He actually is right, you know? You are the bestest."

"Thank you very much."

"Guys, hey, no more kissing!" Ethan says, stopping us when we were about to do it. "I'm freezing cold and can't wait to get home!"

"You mean my home."

"Yes, whatever. C'mon, hurry up!"

"Kids" Kylian says, rolling his eyes.

"I heard you!"

"Congratulations on your good hearing, little bro" he says as he opens the car, he and Ethan still teasing each other while I just look at them and smile like an idiot.

"Gorgeous, aren't you coming?" Kylian asks me.

"Yes, of course" I say. "I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you both in my life."

"Aww... Cheesy" Ethan says from the backseat of the car.

"But cute" Kylian adds. "Ready for those hot chocolates?"

"Ready" Ethan and I say at the same time.

"On y va!"

[valy-gc]

Heartslabyul rules

Soooo... we only knows a bunch of rules from Heartslabyul... and I decided to try create some.

I didn't actually finished yet because... well that's a LOT!! O_O

But I want to make the full list! It can help peoples who are writing fanfics ;)

So here is the list. Thoses officially from the games have the indication of where we have the info

Have fun imagining yours and I'll add them to the list! :D

001 | You must knows all 810 rules by heart.

002 | Every Monday, you must wear red and black striped socks

003 | You must walk backwards through your home on the 9th day of every month.

004 | You must greet each other with a curtsy or a bow

005 | Every Friday, you must wear a crown made of flowers if you’re out of your house after 9pm.

006 | It is forbidden to eat anything purple on Thursdays.

007 | It is forbidden to eat any dessert on friday evening without first reciting a rhyme about it

008 | If you see a blue caterpillar you must recite him a poem

009 | It is forbidden to eat carrots without singing a carrot-themed song.

010 | Every resident must have a collection of top hats.

011 | It is mandatory to sign names with a heart instead of a dot

012 | It is mandatory to wear a tutu while doing laundry.

013 | It is forbidden to step on cracks in the pavement

014 | It is forbidden to eat anything with a square shape on Mondays.

015 | It is forbidden to eat anything with a triangular shape on Sundays.

016 | On Tuesdays, you must wear mismatched shoes.

017 | It is forbidden to eat anything with a round shape on Fridays.

018 | You must wear a crown made of seashells at the beach.

019 | It is forbidden to wear the color yellow on Wednesdays.

020 | You must have a collection of playing cards and display them in tyour rooms

021 | On the first day of spring, you must hop everywhere you go.

022 | The use of ordinary playing cards as coasters is strictly prohibited

023 | You must not bring cats into areas of festivity (0-3)

024 | You must only speak in rhymes on the second Wednesday of each month.

025 | There must always be a tea party on the 5th day of every month (Prerelease Comic)

026 | It is forbidden to open an umbrella indoors, unless it is raining outside.

027 | You must wear mismatched gloves whenever it snows.

028 | It is mandatory to have a tea party with at least one stuffed animal present.

029 | You must only use quill and ink to write on Sundays.

030 | It is forbidden to say the word ‘rabbit’ on the first day of the month.

031 | It is forbidden to say the word ‘mouse’ in the presence of a cat.

032 | It is mandatory to paint one fingernail green every Friday.

033 | You must always wear a pocket watch, but it must never tell the correct time.

034 | It is forbidden to whistle indoors on Saturdays.

035 | It is forbidden to read a book without first reading the last page.

036 | It is forbidden to use a door when a window is available on the third Thursday of every month.

037 | You must not step on any shadows during a full moon.

038 | It is forbidden to use a spoon when a fork will do.

039 | You must always carry a key that not open any door.

040 | It is forbidden to eat bread without first toasting it and letting it cool.

041 | It is forbidden to eat an apple without first peeling it and cutting it into slices.

042 | It is forbidden to wear socks with sandals.

043 | You must always stir your tea counter-clockwise.

044 | All persons more than a mile high must leave the court immediately. (Rule from Alice in Wonderland)

045 | Coffee is forbbiden

046 | It is forbidden to eat cheese unless it’s presented on a miniature silver platter.

047 | You must carry a pebble in your pocket at all times; it’s to be named and introduced to new acquaintances.

048 | It is forbidden to open a book without first announcing its title aloud.

049 | You must wear a scarf with exactly seven stripes on the first windy day of the month.

050 | You must not enter a closed room without first knocking three times, even if it’s empty.

051 | It is forbidden to drink water without first toasting to someone’s health.

052 | You must not eat spaghetti without twirling it on a fork exactly four times.

053 | You must wear a piece of jewelry that jingles when you walk, for a week, once a year.

054 | It is mandatory to have a secret handshake with at least three other persons.

055 | You must not use the color pink in any artwork during the month of May

056 | You must only write in cursive on the last day of each month.

057 | It is forbidden to wear hats indoors unless it’s a Sunday.

058 | It is forbidden to eat soup without a garnish of edible flowers.

059 | You must wear a cloak with at least three different colors on rainy days.

060 | It is forbidden to use the same teacup more than once in a week.

061 | It is mandatory to carry a hand fan decorated with ribbons during the summer.

062 | It is forbidden to read poetry aloud unless you’re standing on one foot.

063 | It is forbidden to wear laced shoes on the first Monday of the month.

064 | It is forbidden to use pencils; only pens with purple ink are allowed.

065 | You must wear a ring that glows in the dark every Wednesday.

066 | It is mandatory to leave a small treat for the dormouse every evening.

067 | You must not pass a bookshelf without selecting a book and reading one sentence aloud.

068 | It is mandatory to have a riddle contest with a friend once a week.

069 | It is forbidden to walk; you must skip or hop everywhere on the second Tuesday of the month.

070 | You must serve cookies shaped like stars during a new moon

071 | You must not play checkers with anyone wearing green

072 | You must dance with a broom if the clock strikes exactly 1pm at the moment you watch it

073 | You must not look into a mirror while eating jam

074 | If you wake-up between 2am and 3am you must get up and go outside to compliment the moon ; If there is no moon, bow to the stars before going back to bed.

075 | You must not hum while holding a red apple

076 | You must not pass a salt shaker directly to another person

077 | You must only write with green ink during a thunderstorm

078 | You must not cross your arms while standing on one leg

079 | You must only eat soup with a fork on the third Thursday of the month

080 | You must wear a feather behind your ear when the wind blows east

081 | You must not play hopscotch unless you've seen a cloud shaped like a teapot

082 | You must not catch butterflies unless you promise to tell them a story

083 | You must not use the stairs on days when you've seen a rainbow

084 | You must wear a necklace made of candy on your half-birthday

085 | You must not use bookmarks made of paper on windy days

086 | You must wear a ribbon in your hair when the first snow falls

087 | You must not eat cake with a fork on odd days

088 | You must only drink milk from a glass with a red straw

089 | You must not eat the Queen’s tarts without her permission (1-2)

090 | You must not play the flute unless the moon is visible

091 | You must not pick up pennies found on the ground

092 | You must not play marbles unless there's a rainbow

093 | You must wear a necklace of daisies when the first leaf falls

094 | You must not drink orange juice after you've seen a squirrel

095 | You must carry a lantern if you walk in the forest at dusk

096 | If you spill your tea, you must apologize to each droplet before cleaning it up

097 | If a butterfly lands on your nose, you must balance a spoon on your head for an hour

098 | If you find a four-leaf clover, you must wear it in your hair until it wilts

099 | When you hear an owl hoot, you must recite your favorite poem upside down

100 | If a falling leaf land on your head, you must keep it safe in a book until the next full moon

102 | You must not pass under a bridge if you've eaten cheese that day

103 | If you lose a sock, you must wear a teacup on your head until it reappears

104 | When you hear thunder, you must swap a secret with the nearest tree

105 | If you laugh three times before noon, you must walk backwards for the rest of the day

106 | When a frog croaks, you must reply with a poem about rain

107 | You must not open windows if you've sung in the shower

108 | You must not say your own name out loud on days with a double rainbow

109 | You must not wear green on days when you've seen a lizard (does Malleus count?)

110 | If you spill salt, you must throw it over your left shoulder while hopping on one foot

111 | If you catch a spider, you must recite a riddle to it before setting it free

112 | If you find a lost button, you must sew it onto your sleeve, regardless of its color

113 | When you see a cloud shaped like a fish, you must sing a sea shanty

114 | If you spill ink, you must write a letter of apology to the inkwell

115 | If you step on a crack, you must immediately spin around three times

116 | You must not eat peas unless you've counted them first

117 | If you accidentally sneeze on a Tuesday, you must immediately find a clover and present it to the nearest tree

118 | You must wear a ring on your thumb if you've heard a dog bark before dawn

119 | You must not use a fork if you've seen a rainbow before breakfast

120 | When you see a cloud shaped like a heart, you must send a love letter to the sky

121 | You must not wear blue shoes on days when you've eaten chocolate

122 | You must never cross your legs while sitting

123 | If you accidentally step on an ant, you must sing a lullaby at the next sunset to apologize

124 | When you get soaking wet, you must dry off with a run in the ocean (Endless Halloween night 4-8)

125 | When you hear a woodpecker, you must tap your feet in rhythm until it stops

126 | If you see a worm, you must draw a map in the dirt with a stick

127 | If you see a cloud that looks like a dragon, you must immediately find a stone to guard

128 | When you see a butterfly, you must follow it until it lands

153 | The only tea you may drink in the evenings is herbal tea (1-14)

168 | If you stutter more than three times in a sentence, you must hop on one foot while reciting the alphabet backwards.

186 | Do not eat hamburger steak on Tuesdays (1-9)

228 | You must not pick flowers from the garden on Wednesdays (SM 2-2)

249 | You must wear pink while feeding the flamingos (1-19)

256 | You must not drink lemonade with honey past 8 PM (1-14)

271 | You must get up from the table within 15 minutes after eating (1-9)

304 | On days when a hedgehog sneezes, all card soldiers must sing a song together. (Comic Ch.4)

339 | Your after-meal tea must be lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes (1-9)

346 | You must not play croquet in the gardens past 5 PM (2-12)

412 | If you see a pair of moving eye-glasses in the forest, you must not go back the way you came (Happy Beans Day 2021 - Ch.31)

469 | Flowers must be both red and white when you invite over a new acquaintance (Trey Ceremony PS)

529 | If you eat steak on a night with a full moon, a cat must play the violin. (Happy Beans Day 2021 - Ch.2)

562 | Do not bring marron tarts to an Unbirthday Tea Party (1-16)

648 | You must brush your teeth 2 times on nights when you eat turkey (Trey School PS)

703 | Whoever comes in 2nd place during a croquet match must serve tea to the Queen the next day (Ghost Marriage 14)

[pvffinsdaisies]

UK & Ireland as Olivia Rodrigo songs

Plus OC’s in a reblog 💕

ENGLAND: making the bed

“Want it, so I got it, did it, so it’s done. Another thing I ruined I used to do for fun. Another piece of plastic I could just throw away. Another conversation with nothing good to say.

And I thought it, so I said it, took it cause I can. Another day pretending I’m older than I am, another perfect moment that doesn’t feel like mine, another thing I forced to be a sign.

Well, sometimes I feel like I don’t wanna be where I am, getting drunk at a club with my fair-weathered friends, push away all the people who know me the best, but it’s me who’s been making the bed.

And I’m tired of being the girl that I am, every good thing has turned into something I dread, and I’m playing the victim so well in my head, but it’s me who’s been making the bed.

(…)

And I tell someone I love them, just as a distraction, and they tell me that they love me like I’m some tourist attraction. They’re changing my machinery and I just let it happen, I got the things I wanted it’s just not what I imagined.”

IRELAND: Can’t Catch Me Now

“There’s blood on the side of the mountain, there’s writing all over the wall, the shadows of us are still dancing through every room and every hall. There’s snow falling over the city, you thought that it would wash away the bitter taste of my fury and all of the messes you made. Yeah, you think that you got away

But I’m in the trees, I’m in the breeze, my footsteps on the ground. You’ll see my face in every place, but you can’t catch me now. Through wading grass, the months will pass, you’ll feel it all around. I’m here, I’m there, I’m everywhere but you can’t catch me now.

Bet you thought I’d never do it, thought it’d go over my head. I bet you figured I’d pass with the winter, be something easy to forget, oh, you think I’m gone ‘cause I left…

(…)

You can’t, you can’t catch me now, I’m coming like a storm into your town. You can’t, you can’t catch me now, I’m higher than the hopes that you brought down!

(…)

There’s blood on the side of the mountain, it’s turning a new shade of red. Yeah, sometimes the fire you founded don’t burn the way you expect. Yeah, you thought that this was the end.”

NORTHERN IRELAND: brutal

“And I’m so sick of seventeen, where’s my fucking teenage dream? If someone tells me one more time, “enjoy your youth!” Im gonna cry. And I don’t stick up for myself, I’m anxious and nothing can help, and I wish I’d done this before, and I wish people liked me more.

All I did was try my best, this the kinda thanks I get? Unrelentlessly upset. They say these are the golden years, but I wish I could disappear, ego crush is so severe. God, it’s brutal out here.

I feel like no one wants me, and I hate the way I’m perceived. I only have two real friends, and lately I’m a nervous wreck. ‘Cause I love people I don’t like, and I hate every song I write, and I’m not cool and I’m not smart and I can’t even parallel park.

(…)

Got a broken ego, broken heart. And god, I don’t even know where to start.”

SCOTLAND: get him back!

“I met a guy in the summer, and I left him in the spring. He argued with me about everything. He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye, he said he’s 6’2 and I’m like “dude, nice try.��� But he was so much fun, and he had such weird friends, and he would take us out to parties and the night would never end, another song, another bar, another dance, and when he said something wrong, he’d just fly me to France. So, I miss him some nights when I’m feeling depressed, ‘til I remember every time he made a pass at my friends. Do I love him, do I hate him? I guess it’s up and down, if I had to choose, I would say right now

I wanna get him back! I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad. I wanna get him back ‘cause then again I really miss him and it makes me real sad. I want sweet revenge and I want him again. I wanna get him back!

(…)

I wanna key his car, I wanna make him lunch, I wanna break his heart and be the one to stitch it up. Oh, I wanna kiss his face with an uppercut, I wanna meet his mom, just to tell her her son sucks!”

WALES: enough for you

“And I knew how you took your coffee, and your favourite songs by heart. I read all of your self-help books so you’d think that I was smart. Stupid, emotional, obsessive little me. I knew from the start this is exactly how you’d leave.

You found someone more exciting, the next second you were gone. And you left me there crying, wondering what I did wrong. And you always say I’m never satisfied, but I don’t think that’s true, ‘cause all I ever wanted was to be enough for you.

And maybe I’m just not as interesting as the girls you had before, but god you couldn’t have cared less about someone who loved you more. I’d say you broke my heart, but you broke much more than that, now I don’t want your sympathy I just want myself back.

(…)

Don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded? Don’t you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing? But don’t tell me you’re sorry, boy, feel sorry for yourself ‘cause someday I’ll be everything to somebody else. And they’ll think that I’m so exciting, and you’ll be the one who’s crying.”

[tawus]

Hence, the Gojo x Reader Christmas drabble that's about a month late from actual Christmas ☃️🎄🤶❄️

“Hey.”

Your ears pricked. It was a voice you instantly recognised, though his tone had sounded strange.

Looking up, you found Satoru in his genuine surprise to see you up and out this late, bleached in the glow of the street lamps, your lashes clumping with snow.

“Hey!” you exclaimed up at his purple spaghetti outline against the backdrop of the snow-covered street.

“What are you doing out?” he asked, tilting his head and with it the balance of his upstrung white strands.

You bit back your smile at how cute he looked – think a husky puppy with its tall ears spilling to one side.

“I could ask you the same! It’s past midnight, you know?” you pulled your phone out and tapped the screen. “1:24 a.m., in fact. Your mom would be very worried, wouldn’t she–”

Wind shipped around you for a second, scattering snowflakes all around, as Satoru’s warmth suddenly breached your personal space.

“Good thing I don’t have a mom,” he muttered to your forehead, his hands still in his pockets, his height hunched over you. “So what the fuck are you doing alone this late out on Christmas night?”

You laughed at his tone, especially since his pronouncement of ‘fuck’ was coupled with his audible wide grin – not at all as if he wasn’t happy to find you alone this late out on Christmas…

You flicked your face up.

“First tell me why you’re out here! What were you up to?”

It took so much effort to not get crushed and pulverised into mush by the sudden weight of those white bandages that snowed down on you harder than the snow, those bangs of his which keened to you like the tips of icicles, and that grin that seemed more and more pleased with every second of him invading your personal space on this holiest of nights.

Satoru clicked his tongue, his spring smile sloshing sideways.

“It’s Christmas, baby, don’t you know? The one night in the year when everyone’s emotions run high and so do the curses. Besides the Valentine’s Day, of course,” he added after a deliberate pause.

You rolled your eyes. Right. That made sense. In Japan, Christmas wasn’t exactly a family celebration – it was more of a couple’s thing. And you could imagine the amount of tension infesting the air of Tokyo, both positive and negative, tonight of all nights. After all, you’d come out into this snowy night with an emotion, too…

You averted your gaze. Shimmering snowflakes interspersed your sight, falling in endless spiralling strings, shortening your scope.

You looked back up to the spaghetti-shaped snowman before you. Found him smiling, as though casually, but his eye bandages weren’t as good at hiding his true feelings as he thought.

Satoru’s eyes were shot wide under them. They forgot to blink. His irises were fixed in place, fixed on you. Blue and endlessly obsessed. His lashes, graved beneath the bandages, flew apart like fireworks to accommodate his inquisitive stare – the one that was dying to know:

What was on your mind tonight.

Instead of the answer he so craved from your beautiful lips – came from you instead a gesture, a movement, a touch: Satoru sensed your cold fingertips slide into his jacket pocket to find his own fingers. He wanted to warm them so they would never be cold again. He closed his hand around yours, settling you both, hopefully forever, inside his pocket.

With crystal clear eyes you asked of him, “Can I give you a riddle with an impossible answer?”

Satoru’s chest rumbled with his chuckle of anticipation. Ever since meeting you in that burger joint he’d figured you were one for games, for challenges, for riddles. But although you liked to play with puzzles, you were one yourself. And you were blind to it. Blind to the fact that he didn’t care about any artificial man-made puzzles or riddles you posed to him, not any crosswords that you spread before him. You were the only thing he wanted to solve.

“Try me,” he dared you with that air of challenge he knew you loved, trying his best to not betray his secret thrill.

Since, as much as he hated it, despised it, wanted to puke – he was dying to be your superhero. Your Clark Kent. Hell, he wanted to fell the tree of knowledge and make its forbidden fruits roll all around your feet...

So, order him! Tell him what you wanted! How did you want him to tire himself to exhaustion after this already draining night of eradicating curses and curse users?! He would do it all, not a second thought in sight.

“I came out tonight,” you began, your smaller fingers playing a harmonica inside his sensitive palm, “hoping to meet the one person I didn’t think I’d meet tonight...”

Satoru’s smile spread, his chest broadened, breath quickened – and you resumed.

“…who would whisk me away to do one of the clichéest Christmas activities ever – but in the most unexpected way.”

Satoru blinked from under the bandages. You smiled up sweetly, ending your harmonica in his palm on a swift allegro. You stepped forth, obliterating the bit of space he’d left between you for the sake of that modicum of propriety.

“Is my riddle unsolvable…?” you asked him with a feigned plea in your gaze, in your voice, in that supple sheen on your tonight yet unkissed lips.

It hurt. It ached. It fucking burned to not grab you by the shoulders right now and crush your smug lips in a bruising kiss!

“…For fuck’s sake,” Gojo swore from the bottom of his heart, just before your surroundings bent, reality warped, the lights around you imploded, and you got whisked away from the snowy street you were standing on.

Your butt landed on a seat crunchy and soft, whereas your head tumbled backwards uncontrollably until it hit something large and warm and stopped. You blinked your eyes open and found Satoru sitting next to you, his long arm extended behind you. You traced the sleeve of his purple jacket to find his large hand sprawled open behind you where he’d stopped your head from hitting, what appeared to be, the ridged trunk of a live fir tree.

Your eyes widened to see it, your breathing held, as you whipped your head directly up and saw above you the webbing of the tree’s branches. But they weren’t dark, not like arterial veins inside a blood-filled body – but were like constellations of the sky situated too close to you, blinding you, pouring down on you, embalming you.

The support of Satoru’s large palm was no longer there and you fell back onto the crunchy snow, eyes stunned, imagination assaulted and hijacked – you’d never seen such beauty before.

Stars kept shimmering and bursting all above you. The sky was a usually dome but right now each star was the brightest, none ceded its brilliance, each one kept bursting one after the other.

“Where are we?” you managed to mouth in barely a whisper, but Satoru somehow heard you.

He audibly smirked and laid back next to you, crunching some more of the pristine white snow.

“‘Whisk me away to do one of the clichéest Christmas activities ever, but in the most unexpected way,’” he quoted you musically and very much mockingly, word for word.

You looked at him beside you. To your breath-binding shock, his eye bandages weren’t there anymore. His hair lay in loose feathers over his forehead. His cheekbones were reflective and sharp. And his eyes were bare, bared – blue and golden swirling in them, but like oil and water, never truly joining. The gold of the Christmas lights upon the tree above you danced across the gaseous blueness of his eyes, both hues rioting and shimmering immiscibly inside his irises.

How could beauty of such scale be contained inside his eyeballs, you had no clue. But it was there nonetheless, gazing down at you, churning in your direction, addressing you.

The realisation struck you with a mallet. Your breathing froze with the next eddy of warm air. You ran out from under the constellations, the branches of the tree, the magical overhang.

You ran out, leaving Satoru behind, and found a busy public park around you. Filled with couples sitting together, taking pictures, gifting each other gifts and kisses, and those closest to the giant lit up Christmas tree – staring at you in shock.

You looked in their eyes like a frenzied animal, having run out from under the tree all of a sudden, breathing maniacally and looking all around you, before turning at last back up to the tree – to its towering height, your eyelids mellowing, your lips quivering and finally melting into a broad smile.

It was the Daiba Memorial Tree on the Odaiba island – one the most popular Christmas spots visited by couples of December 25th. And this motherfucker, this Gojo…

(you looked pointedly to his spot under the huge illuminated tree)

…had warped you right under it!

As if he felt your searing glare, Satoru emerged from under the tree, lifting its lowest branches and lights with his forearm.

“Very funny,” you muttered, as you now looked around you in embarrassment, at all these couples who glared at you like you were a nutcase out to ruin their picturesque night.

“I think…” Satoru stepped next to you, uncaring of them all, clumps of snow falling off of the back of his thighs, as he cursed his arm curled around your waist and pulled you close to him, with no more intimacy to be desired.

“…I solved the riddle. Merry Christmas, is it?”

You snorted. Shook your head. And finally laid your forehead onto his broad chest.

“Merry Christmas,” you conceded.

[theworldisquietheretooquiet]

Our Shared Monsters

AO3

Elurín is hiding from a monster.

He is crouched in a dip behind a boulder. The tendrils of vines and the soft edges of leaves caress his matted hair and the ripped shoulders of his tunic.

The snow on the ground is absorbing his feet. Every second he feels a little bit more cold leech in and a little bit more life flow out.

He grits his teeth. He wants so badly to stamp them. He can almost imagine how gloriously painful the return of blood to his toes would be.

But he can’t. Because he can still hear it.

The crunch of leaves is too regular. The few birds that remain suddenly stop their songs.

But he knows for sure that it is coming when Eluréd pulls their intertwined hands down to press against the earth.

Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

His twin’s eyes are impossibly wide and frightened. Elurín swallows.

This trick has never failed them. It was Adar who taught it, his eyes twinkling with mischievous joy as he watched them gasp, sensing a rabbit over a league away.

Naneth would smile fondly but shake her head when they asked her to try. “That is a gift I cannot share. But I can share it in your smiles, my little ones.”

(They are dead. They are dead. He is never going to see them again.)

He hunches as close to the ground as he can get, tugging Eluréd tight to his side. He can feel his brother shaking with cold and fear. At least he is here.

Together they hide from the monster.

Elrond is hiding from a monster.

He is perched up a tree, hopefully obscured by the meagre leaves. It is the middle of spring but in the words of one grim soldier: nothing grows properly anymore.

He shivers involuntarily as he glances at the sky. Deep murky twilight is here, and the shadows have grown rather too long for his liking.

He glares at Elros. His twin does not see, instead fascinated with the fireflies dancing around his fingers. It was his brother’s idea to play hide and seek. It was also Elros who had elected Maglor to be the seeker.

Elrond pokes him and ignores the pinch given in return.

“Why did you pick this stupid game? He always cheats using Song and you know it reminds me of-”

“It isn’t my fault you’re a baby who’s scared of the woods!” Elros whisper shouts, cutting him off. “What would Naneth say?”

Nothing, thinks Elrond. Because Naneth is gone, and he doesn’t know if they will ever see her again. But Elros is back to smiling at his fireflies, so he doesn’t say a word.

The birds start to sing an eery song. The leaves rustle a discordant rhythm.

Maglor has found them. The fading light only illuminates half of him as he stands at the bottom of their tree, his strangely lit eyes shimmering out of a dark face. It is not cold but both twins are shivering now.

Maglor does not seem to notice, as he hums melodiously, lifting both boys down. As he sets Elros on the ground, he raises his brows in amusement and says, “Perhaps you would be more successful at hiding if you did not attract them.” He gestures at the fireflies. Elros frowns as his friends skitter away into the night. Elrond glares and says, “It is our mother’s gift to us. We won’t stop and we can’t.”

Maglor raises his hands in mock surrender, but the shadow has crept into his eyes now too.

“It is late, and we must return home. Come.”

The monster takes both boys hands, and they walk away together.

Elladan is hiding from a monster.

Or at least, he is trying to. Lóthlorien does not have nearly as many good hiding places as home.

Currently he is curled up in the trunk of a hollow tree. It smells of damp and dirt, and no matter which way he squirms he can’t get comfortable.

“Stop wiggling!” His brother hisses, elbowing him in the ribs. “Otherwise, the monster will hear us.”

Elladan rubs his sore side and scowls at Elrohir. “What sort of monster is it?” He challenges. “Because orcs hunt by smell, so is it spiders or-”

“It’s Fëanorians!” Elrohir grins. “They’ve come to steal our Silmarils and… and take us away so we never see Adar or Naneth ever again!”

Elladan lets out a frightened gasp before he remembers himself and quickly schools his face into wise disapproval. (He is mimicking his grandfather.)

Tilting his chin up with all the superiority afforded by his additional 20 minutes of life, he tells his brother, “We aren’t supposed to talk about the Fëanorians, remember? Naneth says that it makes Adar ‘melancholy and reflective’.”

Elrohir pulls a face and opens his mouth to reply as there is the crunch of a leaf and a bird sings in welcome.

Celebrían’s face appears in the gap in the tree trunk. She smiles wide, pulls them both out and begins to tickle them all over. “I’m a great big monster and I’m eating you up! Grrrr!”

“Naneth, stop! Naneth!” Elladan giggles and squirms away, landing in a heap on top of his twin on the ground.

“How did you find us?” Demands Elrohir, pushing Elladan off rather roughly.

Their mother smiles and indicates the glade of golden flowers that surrounds them. Each shimmering head of petals is turned towards the hollow tree. “It is how I always found your Adar. I’m afraid there is no avoiding it in your case.”

His brother frowns in annoyance, but Elladan is enraptured. It makes him feel special, like the forest chose them. He and Elrohir and Adar.

Together they walk off to where their family awaits, and Elladan’s head is filled with flowers, all thoughts of monsters left far behind.