#instant christmas classic i adored it

[bisamwilson]

need yall to know that the holdovers is one of the best movies of the year. like can’t wait to rewatch that one again later with a mug of hot chocolate in front of a christmas tree

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 10. Snow Prints

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Christmas Market in Town -> The Lake -> Dashwood Home (Not exactly following cannon, moving the time to winter and the manner Brandon visits the Dashwoods for the first time.)

A/N: I thought we’d take a little tiny break from the serial fics - I do feel I need a breath as it takes way more to write several serials at the same time than one shots (for me) 😂 Also, Brandon seems to be very loved this year, so thought I’d give him some more screen time so to say 🥰

I have perhaps spent too much time on this fic but it ended up flowing and turning into this 5k piece - anyway, I really hope you’ll have a splendid time reading this! We are nearing the middle of Rickmas2023 and I feel good about having been able to post at a decent time every day so far 😍👏 (Let’s hope I can keep it up all the way through 👀😂)

Tags/TW’s: Instant Infatuation, Forehead Kisses, Hand Holding, Accidental Meeting, Unintentional Invasion Of Emotional Privacy, Self Derogatory Thoughts, Classicism, Nicknames, Mutual Pining, Confessions Of Adoration/Love, Implied Future Marriage, Slighty Sassy OC, Chivalry, Poverty Hints,

Word Count: 5k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Mrs Jennings laughed by a market stand down the busy street, Margaret squeezed my hand and I could not quite keep a smile from spreading across my lips as she giggled up at me. “She never stops, does she?” Margaret asked with that childlike twinkle in her eye. “I’m afraid not, Maggie,” I chuckled. “She means well, but I do think Miss Markle is quite over her matchmaking attempts, as most of us are.” “Well, you are free of it,” Margaret said with happiness, not knowing the knife it twisted within me. “Indeed, lucky me,” I said as happily as I could. Knowing full well she held little interest of pairing lowly me with anyone at all.

I was an orphan, a mere child-tender for the Dashwoods before Mr Dashwood passed and left the family in ruin - in every manner. Now I was a burden on the kind family, allowed to live with them and dine after them in exchange for not only taking care of Margaret but cleaning and tending to every manner of household chore whenever needed, teaching the child to read and write, to interpret texts as well. No pay given, but a roof over my head and food in my stomach. It was more than I could ask for given the circumstances.

“Mellie,” Mrs Dashwood called, “go buy us some mistletoes and meet us at home!” “Right away, ma’am!” I called back, squeezing Margaret’s hand before ushering her toward one of her older sisters. I trodded off, heading down the market street with vendors filling the space and air with shouts of prices and smells of Christmas. I weaved through the crowd, well-versed in not being in the way.

I found the right vendor and purchased the holly for the Dashwoods, laying them atop the bread and carrots in my basket before turning about. My eyes caught sight of a brilliantly red coat with black and golden details. It stood out in the throng of greys, browns, whites and beige clothes, none as brightly coloured — not even the greens and blues, all in muted saturation. A man of the military? My eyes slid upward only for my breath to catch. He was stunning in profile. Older, with slightly peculiar features — like his hooked nose and thin lips — but more handsome than any other man I had ever laid eyes upon. His grave features and remote manner of looking only made his features shine brighter in the afternoon sun which made the snow glisten on the rooftops.

I stood stock still in the middle of the street, a messenger boy ran right into me, knocking my basket out of my hand — breaking the spell I had been under by the man. I hurried to pick up the greenery, the cloth-wrapped bread, and frost-bit carrots, before scurrying away, throwing one final glance back before entering one of many narrow alleys. His eyes appeared to see me for a second before I turned and hurried away from the market. No matter how handsome the man was, or how my heart had stuttered at his appearance, he was no man for me. I was all too aware of it.

I held on tightly to the basket, the day was beautiful and with the bright sun and lack of wind I managed to keep warm. I sped up my steps as I cleared the town’s border, crossing over a field to take a shortcut through the woods beyond; then it would only be a matter of two more fields to cross, a small hill to hike up, and I would be home once more. I didn’t mind walking through the snow, the boots Mrs Jennings had given me upon winters arrival were far too big but allowed for three pairs of socks which kept me plenty warm as long as I moved about. I was thankful for her gift, even if it were only for them being too small for her but too big for anyone else to wear, and with their shafts reaching nearly to my knees no snow slunk within them even if I pulsed through it at the moment.

I reached the woods, feeling a need to look back toward the town where I had seen the handsome man I was sure to never see again. Even if no man ever finds me to his liking I can at the very least allow the oddity of daydreaming of it to keep me happy, should I not have at least that? I squinted against the direct sunlight as it sank, bathing the sky in orange and pink only making the glittering snow look further magical with the twinkling light of lanterns and candles coming from the town. “A military man, perhaps that would be a grand life.” Not that I shall ever know it for real.

I half giggled to myself, enjoying my little daydream where the man in red would smile sweetly at me and marvelled at the quietly spectacular view. It was interrupted when something came barrelling across the field, someone atop a horse riding at the utmost speed with snow spraying about them yet I could not see any details with the last bit of sun glaring me in the eye and turning them into nothing but a shadow.

I thought little of it, many cut across the field to return home, so I turned and kept walking while wondering what voice would belong to the man in red — a commanding one, an assured one, a powerful one. I could not imagine a man who looked like he had to speak in any meek or bright fashion. No, no a most strong voice ought to belong to such a gentleman.

“Miss!” I spun around in haste at the dark rumble of a call that was somehow heard so clearly. “Miss!” the man called again and I raised a hand to cover my eyes from the sun. My heart stuttered as the man in red came barrelling towards me, his giant black steed’s hooves made the snow spray in magical waves of sparkles all around him.

He halted the horse with great skill, going from a gallop to a near-complete halt in a mere two steps. “Miss,” he said again, his voice a rumble which seemed to shake my insides. “Y-yes?” I asked, bowing my head while curtsying deeply. The thud of feet hitting the snow-covered ground rang out and I looked up. He was a head taller than me, his shoulders stiffly held and his back utterly straight. He looked every bit a stoic gentleman as he inclined his head before reaching out his hand, holding a mistletoe.

“Sir, I— What is this?” I asked while looking between the man who made my heart run rampant and the greenery in his glove-clad hand. “You left this behind, miss.” “Oh… oh!” I rummaged around my basket and indeed, there were only seven when there ought to have been eight of them. “Thank you, sir. I apologize for the trouble you went through for such a small thing.” My cheeks nearly seemed to burn as he handed it over while I spoke and then secured the mistletoe under the towel covering the basket.

The man looked at me, his eyes sweet but his features stoic. “It was no bother, miss. I merely followed the snow prints.” But, I left none behind until I reached the field? “I’m grateful for your kindness and effort, sir.” “Colonel Brandon, miss. At your service,” he said and placed his closed fist atop his chest before bowing slightly. “Melinda Merryweather,” I replied, endeavouring to keep my cheeks from burning up under his stare. “Beautiful Honeybee,” he said in a quiet drone and my eyes widened. “Excuse me, sir?” “Oh, no, miss, your name. Melinda, of Latin origin, meaning sweet. Constructed of mel, meaning honeybee, and Linda, meaning beautiful.”

I was not proud of it, but I gawked at the man. He knew more about my name than me myself. I had been aware of the Latin origin but the meaning of it had never been told to me. “My mother did have a fondness for the buzzing creatures, they fill an important role after all.” “Indeed,” the man said, “there would be little in terms of flowers without them.” “Oh, I was referring to food, Colonel Brandon. Flowers are pretty though.” “Their honey?” “No, they pollinate far more than flowers,” I continued, the education I had been given as a child tender to the Dashwoods far beyond any I would have had in another situation. “You are a woman of education.” “Oh, no, sir. I have merely been most lucky as a tender of children for the lovely Dashwood family.”

I did my utmost to speak calmly, but my entire body seemed caught on fire, the flames growing stronger with each second in his company. Talking is not my issue, remaining silent is. I’m certain he sees me as a know-it-all by now. “Luck plays a grand part in life. I admit, it has not been so graceful to me until now.” “Oh? You appear a most lucky man, sir.” “I shall not ruin said image of me for you, Miss Melinda Merryweather.” What to say to such a statement?

I had no need to think of it though, the man bowed and mounted his steed once more. My heart skipped a beat as he turned the horse about. “Thank you again, Colonel Brandon,” I said and he smiled at me, my skin burned and my breath caught as the last sunlight left the world but it seemed all the brighter when he smiled. “I wish you the best, beautiful honeybee,” he said with a sudden softness to his features and put his horse into motion, setting off in a rushed gallop without looking back once while my heart seemed to race at the same pace as the black horse.

Never had I met a man such as him. He was different, in the most sweet and good manner. I ended up watching him gallop back to town, I simply couldn’t make myself leave before he was gone. Strange sensations filled my chest and the heavy basket in my hand suddenly felt light in comparison to the weight of the newness, or, perhaps it was the knowledge a man such as him were not meant for me. For someone like me. A colonel had little business with a child tender turned into some form of a maid and teacher of reading and writing out of the goodness of my employer of many years. As much as warmth for the man bloomed within me, a sense of hopeless longing grew as well.

***

“I’ll only be an hour!” I called toward the little sitting room where Marianne and Elinor sat, one embroidering and one playing on the forte, while I slipped my boots over the many layers of socks I had adorned. I loved Marianne’s music, and voice, not blessed with either skill myself. Books, poetry, and stories lay me far closer to the heart though.

Reading, writing, and weaving stories of my own were my pleasures. My loves. And the past week my poetry had turned longing and somewhat sappy, to be truthful. I needed a moment with nature, to take a breath and rid my heart and mind of the grand colonel who called me a beautiful honeybee before riding off in a swirl of snow.

I wrapped a second scarf over my shoulders and headed out, the weather was splendid but cold. The midday sun had the world in a sparkle, a winter wonderland to adore and enjoy. I took a deep breath of fresh air and set off down the hidden road few carriages traversed. I followed it down the hill and then began my trodding across the field to reach the ice-covered lake where I was sure the most wonderful view where to be seen.

I had no idea how right I was…

As I came over the little hill, a wonderful view indeed sprawled out before me. But nothing could compare to the man standing right by the edge of the snow-covered beach, holding the reins of his large steed in a loose grip. With the sun shining high I could see him most perfectly, even if he wore no red coat I would have known his posture anywhere. The air about him was that of a single kind. I had spent so many words on the man, writing poetry to expel the feelings I had endeavoured to suppress ever since I had managed to tear myself away from the edge of the forest where I had last seen him galloping away in haste.

I stood still, once more stuck looking at the man from a distance without him being aware, and I felt as if all the feelings I had sought to tamper down and rid myself of through poetry took over completely. Let loose by his appearance where I least expected him. Oh, this is not proper! This is lunacy of the acutest kind. The man is a colonel, for goodness sake. I was about to turn around, play the coward, and run away while my heart ran rampant. “Honeybee!” came the loud rumble of the colonel, stopping me in my tracks (not that I’d begun to actually move).

The sound of boots and hooves walking through snow filled the air as he neared. My mind blanked when his soft gaze landed on me and a small smile spread his lips most sweetly. “Colonel Brandon,” I said and curtsied while hiding my bare hands behind my back. A bit embarrassed I had no gloves to speak of when he wore such fine ones of leather. “What a wonderful surprise,” he said. “What brings you to the lake, miss?” “Oh, umh, well, I was merely out for a walk to— To clear my head a bit, colonel.” “Perhaps a coincidence, I am here for that exact reason. What troubles you, if I may enquire?” You . Not that I could ever admit to such a thing.

“My troubles could not possibly be of any importance to a colonel, sir Brandon.” “I would take great pride in absolving you of any trouble, honeybee.” His voice was honest, his gaze a bit harsher and his voice once more a line rather than a smile, and that nickname set my stomach into an absolute flutter. “Do not tease me, sir.” “Never,” he said while taking a step closer. “I am not a man who would trifle with a beautiful woman,” he continued, taking another step. He was almost too close, yet not close enough.

My fingers fidgeted behind my back, the ends of my scarf swaying lightly in the soft breeze. A gust of wind blew by and my scarf flew off, tumbling along the snow in soft waves. He was off after it before I had a chance to even react. “Colonel!” I called, feeling like a nuisance to the man. “Colonel! Stop! It’s my—” He bent and snagged the thin fabric, holding it up with the sweetest of triumphant smiles before he jogged back. My icy fingers covered my mouth to hide the giggle, or perhaps to cool the heat flushing my face.

“My lady,” he said with a slight bow while holding out my scarf for me. I suffocated the laughter bubbling within me at his theatrics and reached for it. He jolted and grabbed my hand before I could pull away. “No gloves? In this chill?” he asked, concern written all over his handsome face while mine contorted with shame and embarrassment. “Thank you,” I said and wrung my hand free. “For catching it, sir.” I draped it over my shoulders once more but he only tilted his head to study me closer.

“I ought to return,” I said after a moment of silence, a silence far too intense. “They are expecting me at home,” I continued and curtsied swiftly before turning on my heel. “Miss Melinda,” he called, “stay safe!” “I shall, Colonel. I’m quite capable!” I called over my shoulder before waving at him, picking up my pace while leaving deep prints behind which I knew he would not follow this time.

***

It was the tenth of December, another week had passed since I saw the colonel and my little notebook was by now full of poems all revolving around him, around what he made me feel and wished to expel. My silly little heart had no wits about her, my mind just as snagged on his handsomeness — his kindness a lingering torment when there was no world in which I could be anything to such a fine gentleman.

“Mellie,” Margaret whined, “you’ve been writing for hours!” “Huh? Oh, have I really?” “Yes!” she said with a certain oomph to her voice. I merely smiled at her, mustering up the courage to not show her anything at all. “Is there a reason I ought to stop for the moment?” I asked as she leaned on the desk where I had, indeed, been sitting for several hours as lunchtime had arrived. “Mama asked you to fetch a bird for dinner, it’ll be dark if you don’t go soon.” “Oh, oh right! Yes, of course,” I said while shutting my little notebook and standing. “I’ll head out right away.” “But it’s lunchtime, silly goose.” “Well, there will be no goose of any kind, or other bird, if I don’t get a move on, will there?” “I’ll make a sandwich for you,” she said and scurried off with the usual happy spring to her steps. “With cheese and peppers, how you like it!” she called over her shoulder and I smiled at her sweetness.

I was out of the house a few moments later, hurrying towards town once again to get a bird for the family for the evening. Given how cold it was, one could have bought several and just had them in a box outside - they’d keep for weeks if the weather remained. But, again, I was not one to complain about some walking. I was rather fond of being out like that, truth be told. Truth be told, huh? More like give me something to take my mind of the man in a red coat, with a sweet smile, and soft eyes, and— Stop. Just, do not think of him. Simple as that. It was not , however, simple as that.

All the way to town, then through it, and back home again, I thought of the man. When I went down the hill to the house he was really the only thing I thought of at all. The fact I managed to keep my wits about me enough to see snow prints of male shoes unlike any other prints was a miracle. As the Dashwoods had company, obviously of the male kind, I walked around back and took the small servant entrance almost straight into the kitchen.

“Cook, here, I found a fantastic goose for dinner. It’s missing half a wing but the butcher gave me a great price for it.” “My, my, my, that is a good bird,” Cook replied as I held the naked goose up. Plucked and ready for cooking. She grabbed it and my cold fingers flexed with an ache to them. The thing was heavy and with the evening chill I struggled to get my blood flowing again for a moment while undressing my outside clothes only to put on a new scarf over my shoulders and thicker slippers on my feet rather than the boots and tripple socks.

“Here,” Cook said and handed me a tray of tee with some biscuits on a plate. Four cups on it, but it was the pretty china so the fourth one certainly wasn’t for me and Margaret didn’t drink tea. “Who’s visiting?” I asked. “Oh, some upstanding man, the boring type if you ask me. Tense looking. Too old for any of the Dashwoods too, no idea why the lady entertains him for so long.” “Long?” “He’s been ‘ere since one, came right after lunchtime.” “Well, perhaps he fancies one of them, or one of them fancies him. Is he rich?” “Very much so, Mellie.” “Well, there you have it then, Mrs Dashwood couldn’t send a rich man away — no matter his looks or age when she has two daughters she needs to wed.” “Indeed, but we both know the lady cares too much about what her daughters want to ever force a marriage.” “True, maybe she can force a marriage with a rich man upon me?” I laughed, both cook and I perfectly aware I wished for no such thing and nor would it ever happen either. No, love would be my biggest reason for marriage — riches were good, but love far outweighed it in every way.

As I came closer to the parlour I heard Marianne speak, asking whoever was visiting to read another. I didn’t know what she referred to but I gently pushed open the door, not making a sound as I backed in to not wobble the tray. “Snow prints—” My heart stopped in my chest. “—were followed, a path—” My fingers trembled. “—he ought not have taken. She was below—” The tray clattered to the floor, the china breaking and shards scattering all over the floor as I heard Colonel Brandon read my poetry, about him !

“Mellie, goodness me, are you alright?” said Mrs Dashwood with a shriek. I slowly turned, seeing the man who I had written those words for staring at me with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, Marianne sat far too close to him. He was a captivating reader, I could not fault her for her investment, yet my heart ached at the sight of the two.

“I— That’s—” “I gave it to him,” Margaret said with a beaming smile. “You write so well, Mellie!” she kept going and Colonel Brandon looked between me and the notebook containing my most inner thoughts in his hands. His eyes turned wider, his face paled and I felt my insides twist as he stared at me again.

Tears stung my eyes, the shame and embarrassment, the hurt and fear, the ache in my chest at the betrayal of the child I thought so highly of. “Excuse me,” I blurted out before bolting out the door, not staying to clean up the mess. “Mellie!” called Mrs Dashwood. “Mellie, what—” called Marianne with confusion in her tone but I was out of earshot for her sweet, clear voice. Such a contrast to the Colonel’s, so perfectly matched.

I ran out through the kitchen entrance, past Cook who prepared the infernal bird, and out into the snow lit up by the climbing moon as early evening had arrived. “Honeybee!” came the voice I dreaded to hear. “Stop, please!” he called and I stopped, my hand on the gate at the end of the backyard and my slipper-clad feet deeply buried in the white coldness below.

His running steps reached me, and the crunching of snow and slightly panted breaths filled my ears. Warmth wrapped around my shoulders as he hung his coat over me and I spun around in shock at the action. He was stood in only his vest and shirt, the biting wind tossed about his beautiful hair but all I really saw were the sweet, kind eyes staring at me.

“I never knew,” he said quietly while taking a step back. “Knew what?” I asked, attempting to not inhale deeply as his scent wafted up my nose. The perfect scent, the warmest and most comforting of scents. “That is was your beautiful poetry I was reading, the child gave it to me, asked for me to read something out of it. I thought it belonged to one of the ladies present in the room — and they did not object,” he said while looking most forlorn, nearly distressed. “I was not even aware you resided with the Dashwood household.” “I have for many years,” I said. “Marianne will be a perfect match for you,” I continued while thinking of their voices, the way she sat right beside him on the sofa.

Colonel Brandon stepped closer. “I have already found my match,” he said. “I asked you not to tease me, sir. And you said not to be a gentlemen who trifled with women.” “And I have not,” he said, his eyes hardening while coming far too close, forcing me to look up at him. It was all in my head… Only in my heart, not his. Perhaps, perhaps he is merely a most kind man? I have little experience with those.

“Honeybee,” he said, snagging my attention anew. “I have not, and will not, trifle with you, tease you. I am too old for games and life far too dark as is for me to make it any worse.” “Sir!” “I speak true,” he declared. “A gentleman such as you ought to be more aware of your own handsomeness.” He blanched at that, blinking at me before a timid smile stretched his lips in a manner that looked as if he were unable to control it.

“You find me handsome?” “What woman in their right mind would not?” “Oh, I do believe you may be a woman of singular taste, honeybee.” I gasped, gaping at him. “I beg your pardon? Are you accusing me of something?” “I am not a favourable option for most beautiful women, such as yourself. I am well aware of it. My riches perhaps an aid in seeing past it, or my standing in society.” I gasped anew, a mixture of an exhale and a laugh of disbelief.

“You are terrible, sir. You may wish to know I had no idea who you were until you introduced yourself, even then, I am new to this part of the county and have had little to do with the upstanding citize n so I am not aware of your riches. I do recognize the bravery and skill you possess to climb up the ranks, but any silly nilly knows such things,” I said with both hurt and irritation at the man who twisted my insides with warmth and want. “I apologize, miss,” he said, his face held in some sort of shame at the assumption he’d held of me perhaps. “No need, I am but a servant of no importance or value.” “What a foul thing to say…” “Truth is sometimes.”

Time stretched on while we stood in silence, simply looking at each other. “Miss Melinda, your poetry,” he began while looking at me with something I could only describe as respect, perhaps even admiration, “it is most beautiful, passionate, deep .” The change of subject threw me for a loop, a man such as him ought to hold no admiration of any kind for a woman such as I. “Like your voice,” I whispered before I could stop myself. I had thought of hearing my words in his voice, there was no way not to when his voice was such perfection. He chuckled. “My voice is to your liking?” “Everything about you is to my liking, as far as I’m aware. Sir .” I couldn’t help the sass, or the way my face had hardened while my insides were in an uproar over the man. I had to protect myself from the rejection that was sure to come despite his sweet words. It was only a matter of time, surely.

Yet, it did not.

His hands cupped my face, the gesture most intimate and highly improper. “If you are ever made aware of a trait of mine that is not to your liking, I will be very much obliged to correct it, to your liking, honeybee.” “W-What do you mean?” I asked, my breath tumbling out in a shuttering way. “Would you object to me?” My eyes widened while his finger stroked my cheek. “Object to you? Sir?” “I am beyond happy I caught a glimpse of you, heard the vendor call for you about the holly, and found your prints at the edge of town. I rode around quite manically to find you, you know. Following those snow prints, it was the best decision I have ever made.” “Colonel… Stop, we cannot, it’s not proper.” “Propriety can take flight and be on its merry way, honeybee. I have my heart set on you, my beautiful honeybee who writes the most captivating of poetry and smiles with nothing but honesty in her eyes. I have my heart set on you, Melinda Merryweather.” “It was about you…” I whispered while my skin burned under his touch. “Me?” “Yes… For weeks now, I’ve tried all I can to rid myself of these feelings and thoughts…”

Brandon viewed me with a mixture of torment and joy, I chuckled nervously while he released my face and grasped my hands. His coat slid off my shoulders as he tugged me closer — gently — and the cold December air wrapped itself around me. “Would you allow said feelings to grow? Fester? Become an irrevocable part of you?” “Colonel…” “I am already lost to you, honeybee. Allow me the chance to make you happy,” he asked kindly, his hummingly dark voice nothing but an endless promise of said happiness. “Yes. Yes, please,” I whispered as tears of relief and joy wetted my cheeks. “Honeybee… Beautiful Melinda… My Melinda,” he said before he leaned in and kissed my forehead with force, his thin lips perfectly warm against my chilled skin. “You shall not regret this, I promise you my all.”

We leaned back, my heart was aflutter and my stomach a warm ball of knots, and I could not help but smile at the sweet gentleman who had captivated my heart so easily. “I fear any regret I may have will be only a reflection of your own, Colonel.” “Christopher,” he corrected. “My name, is Christopher, honeybee.” “Christopher.” “How sweet a sound you make it. I shall wish to hear it every day for the rest of my life.” I only nodded at that, too stunned to speak when he so brazenly declared I was to be his for all time to come. I held no objections to that as his hands squeezed mine with warmth, his kind eyes a balm to my soul and his smile a thing of beauty far beyond the sparkling snow all around us…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Oh how I hope you enjoyed this One Shot with our dear Brandon 🥰 I had so much fun writing this, and it did indeed turn out to be far longer than I had planned but I enjoyed each word I wrote of this 😍👏

IMPORTANT: Tomorrow I’ll be picking up a story from Rickmas2022! You do not have to read it before reading this years parts, but I do recommend it to get the full story. I will do a small recap before diving into the new parts too. The fics I will be continuing is 14. Icy Roads & 15. Frosty Glass (yes, it’s Hans and Anna-Louisa who are making a comback by super popular demand 😂👏). I've yet to start writing it but, well, guess it'll be a late night today 👀👍

Q: You can only choose one hot drink to consume during December: Coffee, Tea, or Hot chocolate? A: COFFEEEEEEEE all the way for me 😂☕

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @sunset90 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @daddythanatos

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[Dec:2023]

[dracula-enthusiast]

for the horror movie asks: 1, 5, 10, 19, 23, 26, 30 (sorry if i asked too much, i just love horror movie recs!)

OOO ur totally fine i LOVE talking abt horror so u have come to the right place!!!

gonna put this under a read more bc its gonna be a long one 👇 but links to the imdb page for all the movies mentioned will be embedded in the post for synopsis sake :3

1. Top 5 favorite horror movies?

in no particular order:

Black Christmas (1974) Dir. Bob Clark i think this movie is an absolute classic, and while the acting can be silly at times, i think its solid when it needs to be and i think the scares and suspense definitely hold up!

Saw (2004) Dir. James Wan anyone who has followed me for any length of time knows i love the saw movies LOL but the original saw holds such a special place in my heart. i do think its a genuinely good film with a solid story and good acting (yes even Leigh Whannell's acting) and i think that if you let yourself get immersed in the suspense of it all u can have a really good time (and its NOT anywhere near as gory as the film's reputation will have u believe)

Creep (2014) Dir. Patrick Brice i loveeee this movie so much. found footage is my favorite style of horror movie, and this is such an interesting premise for a found footage movie that i think was executed very well!! Mark Duplass' performance is incredible in this film, he freaks me out every time i watch it. (there is also a sequel, Creep 2 (2017) which is just as good in my opinion)

Rec (2007) Dir. Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza i do love a good zombie movie and rec is by far my favorite. its another example of a creative way to use the found footage style and i think that the acting and story are both really engaging, and it has a good mix of suspense and outright scary shit. (same as with creep, i love rec 2 just as much as i love the first one <3 however 3 and 4 are like. totally different movies which. i will not speak on here)

Alien (1979) Dir. Ridley Scott i know some people wouldn't consider this to be a horror movie BUT i would consider them to be wrong. i love this movie so much, its an absolute classic, what else is there to say

5. Underrated film(s)?

one movie that i absolutely loved that i dont think people talk abt a lot is Vivarium (2019) Dir. Lorcan Finnegan. its a weird one and i love it. the premise is fun and creative and its just uncanny and unsettling and i liked this movie a lot.

also!! 10 Cloverfield Lane (2016) Dir. Dan Trachtenberg is really good and pretty slept on. i love the suspense in this movie and i always love a good big scary alien

10. Horror movie(s) that made you love the genre?

not technically a movie but Marble Hornets the youtube series by Troy Wagner and Joseph DeLage was a huge landmark in my own experience with horror. this one is special to me for like. sentimental personal reasons. but also because when i watched it for the first time, i had never seen anything like it. it was just so cool and original and it did scare me which was so fun! if u have a couple hours to spare and have never seen it before i highly recommend checking it out bc the whole thing is still up and free on youtube.

also Pan's Labyrinth (2006) Dir. Guillermo del Toro is another one that is very near and dear to me. it's also special to me for sentimental personal reasons lol but it's also the first Guillermo del Toro movie i ever saw and i just adore his work

19. Favorite 2020s film (so far)?

OGH this is hard because there have been so many good horror movies lately but i love love love Talk to Me (2022) Dir. Danny Philippou and Michael Philippou. the best way i've heard this movie described was by youtuber Mista GG who said abt this movie "they're not reinventing the wheel here, but that wheel? fucking wheels." and i couldn't agree more. it felt like such an instant classic to me in that it hit all of the typical horror movie beats in a very fun and fresh way

23. Favorite Body Horror?

i will admit im not very well versed in body horror yet!! its a genre im only recently getting into, so i dont want to say i have a favorite yet but!! The Bay (2012) Dir. Barry Levinson has some pretty cool body horror elements that i really enjoyed! i think this is a fun and kinda gnarly movie in general.

26. Favorite Psychological Horror?

hands down my fave psychological horror is Black Swan (2010) Dir. Darren Aronofsky i love how ambiguous and unsettling this movie is. and ofc if ur talking abt black swan u have to mention her predecessor Perfect Blue (1997) Dir. Satoshi Kon which is an absolute classic and is so beautifully animated and delivers that same sense of ambiguity and dread. (these movies are the epitome of why pit two bad bitches against each other to me. lets enjoy both of them together <3)

30. A fun movie fact that you like sharing with people?

OK THIS ONE IS EASY i love practical effects forever and ever amen and i especially love the practical effects in the saw movies!! almost all of the traps in the movies are fully functional in some capacity, but my favorite movie trivia is that in Saw 3 during the pig vat scene, the maggots that you see in all of the pigs and in all of the goop and all over Barry Flatman are real live maggots that had been sterilized so that they were totally safe to accidentally (or purposefully i suppose) ingest! here is a super fun video from the saw 3 dvd bonus features talking abt the making of the pig vat trap that talks abt the maggots

thank u for this ask!!!!!! i love talking abt horror movies and my dms are always open to do so!!!!!!!

[delirious-donna]

Under The Christmas Tree [Nanami Kento]

an: I took a poll on Sunday asking if I should write for Husband Nanami or for Kakashi. Nanami was the winner and so we have this festive little offering. It took me longer than I’d like and whilst I think it could be better, it’s not too bad.

pairing: Kento Nanami x female reader (established relationship)

warnings: light bondage (wrists tied), overstimulation, pussy eating, pussy fingering, mentions of rough oral sex, deep throating, cum swallowing, mentions of edging, slight dumbification, Nanami being both a good husband and a fucking menace (clearly channelling Gojo!!)

Masterlist

Husband Nanami thinks you’re both adorable and infuriating at this particular time of the year.

His eyes rolled heavenward as you inspected the garlands that he had hung with care under your scrutinising gaze.

It was the holidays; the chill had arrived and brought with it the spicy scents of cinnamon and cloves, the familiar sound of classic Christmas songs and malls packed with haggard-looking shoppers.

Nanami didn’t care for any of that, but he did love to indulge you with the somewhat intense decorations that would fill your home. Your face always held a certain glow that he wished he could bottle, an essence of pure joy that made his heart tighten in his chest. The holidays would never be the same without that glow and it seemed as if that light was not possible unless the house was full of tinsel, garlands, twinkling lights and snowflakes.

Over the years you had gone through colour schemes from traditional reds and golds to the year he’d rather forget when everything was dusky pink. Right now everything was decked in hues of purple and gold, and he toyed with the string of fairy lights draped between his palms.

“Is something wrong, my love?”

His inquiry was light but there was a tone behind it that demonstrated that his patience was wearing thin. You frowned, head tilted to the side and your finger hooked under your lips.

“Can you move this end a little further to the left? It just looks a little… off.”

Nanami mumbled under his breath, the words muffled but something about this being the third time he’d moved it, it had been fine from the start and yada yada yada. You smiled at your beloved husband, his frustration couldn’t touch your mood. Not when you were surrounded by festive merriment.

You kissed the tip of his nose, perched on the chair that he had insisted you not stand on but here you were, and it allowed you to offer such affection so he shouldn’t complain. The reaction was instant, his scowl smoothing out as he reached up with an exaggerated sigh to readjust the decoration as you had asked.

“Thank you, baby, you’re the best.”

“Mhmm.”

He recognised your attempts at flattery from a mile away and it would be a lie if he said it didn’t work on him. His eyes softened as he set out the boxes of ornaments for the Christmas tree. This part was all you, yet this year you seemed intent on dragging him into positioning the fragile baubles and making him check it from every angle until he truly was fed up.

You hadn’t noticed that Kento had reached his limit, no idea that your festive-filled afternoon was about to take a raunchy turn but you’d know soon enough…

~

The sway of your behind was an enticing sight, half concealed beneath the tree as you fixed a string of lights for the umpteenth time and Nanami happily coiled a rope of tinsel around his fist.

His smile was predatory as you wiggled free, looking flushed in the face and those beautiful eyes widening when you took in his expression before quickly darting to the tinsel.

“K-Kento?”

There was no answer, only a pounce. A desperate husband more than ready to show you a good time surrounded by the hours of work you had made him endure.

Glittery gold trim lined your wrists, tight but not uncomfortable as you gazed from your position at the shiny lights illuminated around the room. Your stomach sucked in when his tongue carved through your folds, thighs already giving their first quake and you wanted to see him so damn badly.

Your forearms formed a triangle against the plush rug, keeping you raised enough whilst your legs were spread wide. This wasn’t the first pass of his tongue along your slit, it wasn’t even the tenth. Nanami’s skilful tongue lapped at your clit, flicking over the sensitive bud with deliberate motions that made you buck and struggle against him.

“Want you, baby… please?” You weren’t above begging at this point, but the answering chuckle was more than an answer to your plea.

“Give me another and I’ll give you what you want. After all, you did make me work my butt off all morning, it’s the least I deserve.”

Your hips jerked back, and the finger buried in your drenched cunt massaged your front wall, rubbing incessantly against your sweet spot until you were close to tears.

Overstimulation muddied your brain, made you dazed and helpless. The twinkling lights of your beloved Christmas tree turned your eyes shiny, a pool of drool slipping to your chin as Kento’s thick fingers fucked you closer to your third orgasm since he had pounced on you.

Lips swollen from bruising kisses, arms and legs aching from the positions you had been manhandled into and sweat dripping from your hairline. To Nanami, you were gorgeous, the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on and when you keened his name in that breathy, desperate way, he could practically cum untouched.

His taste lingered in your mouth, the salt of his release smearing your lips like a balm and you licked at them without thought. Remembering how he had sat you against the nearby sofa, your back pressed to it whilst he fucked your mouth.

The way his knees had bent to drop him into a position where you could deepthroat him and the sound of his satisfied grunts when you swallowed around his length. It had been difficult without the use of your hands but that had only made you all the more determined to prove you could still work your magic and you had. Kento had lost the fight against his crashing orgasm with muttered curses under his breath and fingers tangled in your hair.

Now, all you desired was for him to fuck you. To break your fucking back on the living room floor beneath the beautiful decorations. Fuck you until you were chewing the damn rug and creaming around his fat cock like you deserved.

“Now now, beloved, don’t be greedy,” he cooed with a clear taunt in his voice, “keep still and stop trying to race to the finish line or we’ll have to start all over again.”

He couldn’t be serious… your head rotated as much as the position allowed. Hazel eyes filled with wicked mischief caught your attention and you knew he was serious. Your hips stilled immediately, the throb between your legs dialled up from the strain of keeping still and the swelling orgasm.

Your darling husband arched over the curve of your back, warm breath in your ear and a shiver rippled down your spine as he spoke low and calm.

“This is what happens when you make me work on the weekend… Happy Holidays, beloved.”

[glamourgirlz1]

Floral hair clips | glamourgirlz.co.uk

Glamour Girlz: Elevate Your Style with Gorgeous Accessories and Thoughtful Gifts

Hello, lovely readers! Today, I want to share something that every fashion-forward woman needs in her life—the perfect accessory. Whether you’re dressing up for a wedding, adding a touch of sparkle to your everyday look, or searching for a thoughtful gift, Glamour Girlz has it all! We’ve got everything from stunning hair accessories like crystal alice bands and velvet scrunchies to unique gifts like adorable baby booties, Me To You Tatty Teddy bears, and even dog jumpers for Halloween and Christmas! Let’s dive into some of our most fabulous finds.

Accessorize Like a Pro: Hair Accessories for Every Occasion

Looking for the perfect finishing touch to your outfit? Look no further! Our hair accessories collection is packed with statement pieces that can take your look from simple to sensational.

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Padded Headbands: Comfort meets style with our padded headbands, perfect for chic, all-day wear.

Crystal Headbands: Who doesn’t love a bit of sparkle? Our crystal headbands are guaranteed to turn heads.

Velvet Alice Bands: Luxuriously soft and timelessly elegant, velvet alice bands are a must-have for the cooler months.

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Pearl Headbands: For a touch of vintage charm, you can't go wrong with classic pearl headbands.

Whether you're a bride looking for the perfect finishing touch, a mother of the bride wanting to look your best, or simply someone who loves to make a statement, our collection has something for every taste and occasion. We even stock girls’ school headbands to make sure your little ones stay stylish too!

Luxury Hair Accessories: From Day to Night

From casual days to glamorous nights out, our hair accessories range from practical to fabulous:

Floral Hair Clips: Add a little romance with beautiful floral hair clips, perfect for spring and summer.

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Crystal Jaw Clips: Elegant, eye-catching, and perfect for special occasions or nights out.

Vintage Hair Accessories: Channel the charm of days gone by with our vintage-inspired hair accessories.

Cute Dog Jumpers and Seasonal Fun

Calling all dog lovers! At Glamour Girlz, we believe your furry friend should be just as stylish as you are. That’s why we stock cute dog jumpers, including adorable seasonal costumes for Halloween and Christmas. Whether you're dressing your pup as a pumpkin or Santa’s little helper, we’ve got you covered.

[jeraliey]

Seems like a good time to post this song, which is a Christmas song for people with mixed feelings and complicated situations around the holidays. It's one of the first Christmas songs I've ever seen that gives tacit permission to sidestep the "enforced joy" aspect of the holiday and be okay with things being complicated.

It's also a rockin' song that should be an instant classic (in my humblest of opinions), performed by someone with PIPES.

Lyrics after the cut:

Okay, Christmas

by Christiana Cole

When the snow comes too soon,

and the sky lets me fall,

When the song in my heart

plays too loud or not at all

Then the tree and the lights

Might not be such pretty sights

Try for okay.

I might bake a cherry pie.

I might cry while I eat it.

Might rake the yard while I'm high.

Get halfway and not complete it.

Won't see mom. Won't see dad.

But I'll drink nog and wear some plaid.

Cuz I'll try.

It's the only Christmas I've got, so I'll take it

An OKAY CHRISTMAS, 'stead of what I had before.

Let's try Christmas

an OKAY CHRISTMAS, OKAY?

It's the only Christmas I'm not gonna fake it

An OKAY CHRISTMAS, can't be picky anymore

Let's try Christmas

an OKAY CHRISTMAS, OKAY?

When the bread that I broke wasn't shared how I intended

When I bled beneath the yoke

and lovers tore what time had mended,

Through the cold, through the storm,

there's a light that's glowing warm

Take the short way.

Cheering up, for a time set aside has its detractors

But if the love on TV seems unreal,

it's cuz they're actors.

Even they feel the squall,

the right to fight god's wintry thrall,

Make it okay.

It's the only Christmas I got, so I'll take it

An OKAY CHRISTMAS, 'stead of what I had before

Let's try Christmas

An OKAY CHRISTMAS, OKAY?

It's the only Christmas I got, so I'll take it

An OKAY CHRISTMAS 'stead of what I had before

Let's try Christmas,

an OKAY CHRISTMAS, OKAY?

It's the only Christmas I'm not gonna fake it

An OKAY CHRISTMAS, Oh Come Let Us Adore.

Let's try Christmas,

an OKAY CHRISTMAS, OKAY?

[chachamedia]

The Christmas Princess (Mobi) *Download Only!

The Christmas Princess

by Mariah Carey

[*] Download Link ⇒ DOWNLOAD NOW

[*] Read Link ⇒ READ NOW

    The Queen of Christmas introduces . . . Little Mariah!There was one time unlike any other,when everyone pitched in and helped one another . . .CHRISTMAS TIME!Mariah Carey, lovingly and aptly known as the Queen of Christmas, has brought forth a unique, heartwarming, and modern fairy tale with The Christmas Princess, starring Little Mariah! Like her historic, globally adored song ?All I Want for Christmas Is You,? this story is an instant and inclusive family holiday classic. While firmly placed in the tradition of Christmas storytelling, The Christmas Princess is infused with her one-of-a-kind festive Mariah magic and musicality.Little Mariah doesn?t have much and doesn?t want a lot, but there is just one thing she longs for: a peaceful and joyous holiday season. Feeling outcast and alone, Little Mariah sets off on a wintry, wondrous journey, ultimately discovering the healing power of her voice to spread the spirit of Christmas at home and all around the world.

[pippytmi]

1, 4, 14?

The one hope Kara has for her roommate is that Lena Luthor will not be a smoker.

Alex had told her not to have high expectations; after all, this roommate arrangement was all organized through Winn, and Alex has always stated that she doesn’t trust this man’s self-preservation tactics. (“Once, during an earthquake drill, he started to climb up the building. Kara, what kind of a moron does that?”)

But Kara isn’t as cynical as her sister…or quite as mean. So she trusts that Winn’s people skills are better than his survival skills, and resolves not to write off Lena by virtue of association alone. It’s expensive enough to live in National City; when Winn had promised a roommate that “probably won’t be tempted to murder anyone anytime soon,” that had honestly been a good enough draw. (That had, of course, been sandwiched in a perfectly normal explanation about Lena being the best student in their shared pre-med classes—Winn maintains that anyone pursuing med school that rigorously will be too tired to consider recreational murder on the side.)

So Kara takes her tentatively-moderate-expectations—along with a box of donuts as a gift—and makes her way to apartment 9b. This is technically her first time ever being a real roommate; her only other experience was sharing a wall with Alex during their teenage years, and occasionally during their college years when they weren’t driving each other crazy. So maybe, because she’s never had to deal with boundaries or tact with her sister, she kind of…abandons all formalities and just uses her brand new key to open the front door.

(In hindsight, she really should have knocked first.)

“Golly!” Almost immediately, Kara is jumping right back out into the hallway, and the box of donuts is falling to a tragic death on the carpet. Oh no. Oh gosh. This is more embarrassing than trying to climb up the library during an earthquake drill—

She is still sitting on the floor, dumbstruck, with maple glaze smearing on her jeans when the door opens again. Lena Luthor pokes her head out, and she is simultaneously everything Kara expected and everything she didn’t. Per Winn’s description, Lena is indeed “classically beautiful,” and she has one of those faces: slightly closed off, hesitant to emote much. And when she has clothes on, she truly does have the fashion sense of an aspiring college professor, albeit with a touch more lipstick than Kara would expect.

“Okay, maybe I’m crazy,” Lena says slowly, “but did I hear you say that out loud?”

Kara immediately lifts her head up to squint at the direction of the strange voice. Lena has very pretty green eyes, but they are exceptionally confused at the moment. “What?” she says, echoing that same perplexment in her own voice.

“I could’ve sworn you said ‘golly,’ like some kind of peasant in a Christmas Carol or something,” Lena says, as if that’s a totally normal route of conversation to take after being caught naked. She leans halfway out the door, looking down at Kara with that attractive, baffled expression on her face, and all Kara has taken from this encounter so far is that her new roommate is hot.

“I...did say that,” Kara says after a beat. “But in my defense, I was completely surprised.” As one might be walking in on anybody naked, she thinks, but doesn’t actually say out loud.

“Right.” And then Lena frowns, slightly, in a manner that makes her lipsticked mouth twist down a corner. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming by today. I could have sworn your text mentioned your move in day being the third.”

Kara stretches her leg out and pretends the sole of her shoe isn’t caked in chocolate icing. “Today is the third,” she points out, and then hastily adds, “And um—I’m sorry. I should have knocked. I just didn’t know you were…”

“Showering,” Lena finishes, at the same time Kara says,

“...a nudist.”

Lena stares. And then she blinks, and then she stares some more. “What?” This time, that careful kind of confusion entirely drops, and now she’s looking at Kara like she has grown two heads. “How do you automatically jump to that?”

“Because you’re naked in the middle of the day?!” It’s pretty self-explanatory in her opinion, but Kara still gets up off the floor in order to better face her new roommate (and because it feels strangely like she is the one being judged right now). “Everyone knows that showering is a night or a morning time thing—walking around naked any other time is weird.”

“Wow,” Lena says, and she actually crosses her arms, further cementing the whole Kara-is-the-one-being-judged thing. “I can’t believe you think nudists are weird. That’s pretty ironic coming from Tiny Tim.”

“Hey, I never said I thought nudists were weird. Just, their hobbies are. Is being naked a hobby?” Kara considers delving into that discussion, but Lena is squinting at her (and Lena has a very piercing squint), so she drops the subject. “Anyway, it’s fine if you’re a nudist. I can just…start wearing sunglasses inside, or something.”

“Because my naked body is that blinding?” Lena scowls. “I don’t go out in the sun much, alright, so sue me for being pale—”

“That’s not what I meant!” Kara blurts, helpless, and she knows in that instant she’s gone entirely red in the face. “I, uh. I didn’t mean to sound judge-y. Really, I don’t care what you do in your spare time. Unless…can I ask if you smoke?”

And it is with that sheepish question that Lena’s affrontive attitude slowly begins to fade. “No,” she says, in a manner that is faintly amused. “But I’m glad that’s your priority. Seriously? Are you really just going to say you’d be fine if I spent every single waking moment in our apartment naked?”

Kara shrugs, still flushed up to the tips of her ears, and makes a valiant effort not to think about that when Lena almost-smiles she can see the indent of a possible dimple on her cheek. “Well, if that’s what you want,” Kara says. “I won’t…stare or anything, I promise.”

“That’s comforting, but I’m not a nudist.” Lena smiles, and yep—dimple—Kara is pretty much done for.

“Okay.”

“No, I mean it.” And then that smile drops as Lena suddenly reconsiders something. “Also, why do you assume it’s weird to be naked in the afternoon?”

Kara gestures vaguely with her hands to where her watch would be. “Because,” she says, “it’s weird to shower in the afternoon.”

“But what if I had been naked for another reason besides showering?” Lena apparently has the ability to raise her whole eyebrow, and it’s unfair how mesmerizing that is.

“Like…non-nudist reasons?” Kara asks, and Lena’s smile comes back in a mischievous form.

“Yes, exactly.”

“Uh,” Kara says ineloquently, and suddenly her mind is coming up with far too many scenarios that she really shouldn’t. “That would be fine. Too. I mean, I can wear earplugs with the sunglasses. Or I can just wait out here too, until you’re…done. The carpet here is pretty comfortable. Is it the same in the apartment? ‘Cause if so, I mean, the landlord really outdid himself. I’ve had carpets that aren’t half as fluffy in hotel rooms that charged way more than—”

Lena cracks the door wider, and then her gaze drifts over towards where Kara’s housewarming donut gift has landed. “Have I broken you?” she asks. “Or are you always this awkward around naked women?”

“I’m—what?” Kara sputters. “I’m completely normal around naked women. Sometimes I am also a naked women.”

“Right,” Lena says, “when you shower in the morning. Or night.”

Kara frowns. “Yes,” she says, “and that's completely normal. And not weird.”

“Noted.” Lena pulls open the door the rest of the way, then throws a dangerous sort of smirk over her shoulder. “You are Kara Danvers, right? I’d hate to have to re-do the apartment tour, so if you’ve just come to break in, I have to warn you: I’m saving for med school, so I pretty much own nothing of value.”

“Yeah, no, I’m...Kara,” Kara says, slightly bewildered, but she gathers her bag and her donut box trash and follows Lena inside; she’ll have to deal with the mess outside later. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I just forgot, with the whole…”

“It’s alright.” Lena scrunches her nose up apologetically, suddenly quite sheepish; if Kara had to pick a word, she’d call the tic adorable. “I didn’t exactly introduce myself either. Well, at least in the traditional sense.” She leads Kara into the kitchen, where there is a bottle of wine sitting on the table. “Can I make it up to you with a drink?”

And Kara doesn’t know how, exactly, she’s going to live like this—going to live with the knowledge that her new roommate apparently showers in the afternoon, and drinks a whole bottle of wine alone, and makes sexual references to people she’s known for all of twenty minutes. In other words:

“Yeah,” Kara says, nudging her glasses up her nose and delighting in the curve of Lena’s ensuing smile. “I could go for a drink.”

[masterwords]

Santa Can You Hear Me?

Summary: Hotch and Reid are taking their new relationship slow, but Jack has other plans as they go to the mall to take a photo with Santa.

Warnings: food mentioned often and in detail

Pairings: Hotch/Reid

Words: 4.7k

Notes: This is a Criminal Minds Christmas Exchange gift. Inspired by my Santa coffee mug and the magic of Christmas, and a WHOLE LOT of Christmas music on repeat...(Britney, I'm looking at you...), I give you the fluffiest, cheesiest holiday movie mush fest I could muster for the occasion. Hallmark Channel, eat your heart out. (Obviously I'm a little out of my depths with all of this fluff so please be kind.) @ssa-sarahsunshine @cm-2021-giftexchange

Read on AO3: Santa Can You Hear Me?

**

“Peppermint latte.” Aaron's voice was low, a little hesitant when he handed the drink to Spencer. His immediate smile as he inhaled the steam was instant relief. Aaron was, classically, not great when it came to coffee orders....he was simple, he genuinely enjoyed good drip coffee with nothing added. If he was feeling particularly adventurous, he might order an americano but certainly nothing as varied and sweet as Spencer. (He did very much like the flavor of Spencer's kisses after a pumpkin spice latte in October, though.) A constant source of anxiety and joy was the way Spencer had specific flavors assigned to each season, the anticipation of the flavors was as fun for Aaron as it was for Spencer but he didn't really understand the intricacy of real coffee orders. That is to say, December was for peppermint. The first time Aaron ordered him a peppermint mocha, he felt like a fish out of water. Urged on by the barista, mentioned by more than one employee as the most popular flavor of the season, it had been met with less than stellar results. Spencer accepted and drank it happily, a gift from someone he adored could never be a bad thing even if it wasn't the right thing, but afterward, through a series of awkward moments, Aaron discovered that he didn't actually care for mochas. The chocolate was overpowering, he'd pointed out, and Aaron had nothing to base his agreement on, having never bothered to try flavored coffees, but he agreed nonetheless. It was a learning process, but he was trying and it was appreciated. So, with the latte in hand, Spencer grinned and rocked back on his heels, taking a sip of the whipped cream coated confection parading as a caffeinated drink and thought about how lucky he was to have someone who, bumbling though he may be, cared enough to make sure the little details were attended to.

He also knew that, in the time since ordering the coffee, Aaron had probably sucked down an entire pot's worth of drip coffee, black as night.

Aaron hadn't bothered to date anyone for a long time after his divorce, the effort was more than he could expend and logically...if his job had caused the end of one relationship, it would do the same to all of them. He was too tired to figure out a way around it. Not eager to go down that road again he had settled into his solitary apartment and relished the small time he had with his son. They developed their own little routines, silly things they said and did, inside jokes and games and the rest of his time was spent in his office or jetting around the country. It was fulfilling, but still there were days he found himself lonely, wishing for another adult to share those little nothing moments with. He found himself missing silly things, stupid things, even the irritating ones – the way Haley's hair had been wound around the bar of soap in the shower every time he got in, and he would clench his teeth as he unwrapped it before he could use the bar, a thing he had hated until he no longer had it because he no longer had a person. When Jack came to live with him full time, it only got worse. Jack was picking up on it too, the listless way he would wander around, hovering while he played like he might want to join in and then backing off almost as fast. He began to ask if they could have someone else come over for dinner...anyone. “Miss Penelope likes tacos,” Jack would say and Aaron would shake his head. “She doesn't eat meat, kiddo,” and that was that. “Uncle Derek said pizza is his favorite...” Jack mentioned, and Aaron smiled. “He's in Chicago visiting his family for the weekend, and we're not having pizza tonight anyway.” The same thing every night. Sometimes Emily or Dave would come by, Jessica would stick around longer at Jack's behest but it was never enough. He thought his dad needed someone permanent, like his mom, who came over all the time or maybe lived with them. That was when it hit him.

“Uncle Spencer said he likes pancakes for dinner even more than he likes them for breakfast, did you know that?”

“I had no idea...are we having pancakes for dinner?”

“YES!” Before he knew it, he was inviting Spencer over and the way things progressed from there never ceased to baffle him. One night it was pancakes, and then suddenly Spencer was staying over and sneaking out early in the morning after a night spent curled up in each other's warmth. At a certain point, it became apparent that Spencer was staying at Aaron's more than he was in his own bed. It turned out, Spencer had been just as lonely as Aaron. He was adamant that things go slow, that Spencer be open with him, tell him if he was crossing any lines...he was endlessly self-conscious about a power imbalance that Spencer assured him over and over again wasn't a problem. “I'll tell you,” he assured Aaron repeatedly. “I like you. I like this.” I love this, he thought and maybe a little more, but he wouldn't say it.

That was moving too fast.

Aaron sipped his own coffee, squeezing Jack's hand as the boy stood beside him in the silence, gazing up and up at the tall front window of the mall, an enormous Christmas tree glowing and reaching its limbs gloriously in all directions. His eyes sparkled in the light and all he wanted to do was get inside, get close. “Can I climb it?” he asked aloud, and both Spencer and Aaron laughed. “No,” they said in unison, and Aaron found a flush spreading up his neck. This was the calm before the storm.

“Are you sure you want to do this with us? It's bound to be a nightmare in there. Last chance to duck out, go find Dave and Emily at a bar down the street, I'm sure they're having drinks with someone famous and interesting...” The nervous sound in Aaron's voice made Spencer laugh, his breath a visible puff of white in the chilly evening air.

“More interesting than Santa? Actually, I'm excited,” he replied, and Aaron, try as he might, couldn't detect even a hint of irony in his speech. He believed Spencer. “It's been a long time since I've been to a mall at Christmas time, and I haven't seen Santa in forever.” The last part piqued Jack's interest and he reached up, tugging at Spencer's scarf until he crouched down, eye to eye with the little boy.

“Do you know Santa?” he asked very seriously. Spencer tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and raised an eyebrow curiously, maintaining a look of seriousness.

“Don't you?” He wasn't exactly being facetious, he didn't know just where Jack's belief lie and was trying to feel him out. It occurred to him that he didn't even know whether Aaron actually encouraged the Santa thing or if he'd rather Jack outgrow it sooner rather than later. When he spoke with Henry, Santa was as real as the swirl of his fingerprints and he existed in the twinkle in Henry's eye. He almost thought Will still believed, if he was being honest. But Jack had seen more of the world, knew less wonder and more ugly than most kids his age and still there was that irresistible twinkle in his dark eyes.

“I think yes,” was the reply and Spencer breathed a little sigh of relief. He could work with this. Jack seemed unsure, his age and life experience leaving him a little doubtful, but Spencer could fix it. He could help Jack get a few more years of pure Christmas magic.

“I thought so.”

The mood soured quickly, the moment the wet heat of the mall hit them in the face. There were people everywhere, a cacophony of voices, children screaming and parents at their wits end. Outside in the brisk air, the snow flurries, it had been wonderful and the anticipation was palpable but Christmas magic was hard to find inside. The din of Christmas music over all of it made the hair raise on the back of Aaron's neck. This had been Haley's thing, she'd always taken care of everything, just signed his name to packages and said “we” instead of “I” when mentioning the preparations. He was woefully unprepared for how exhausting it was to keep up with all of it. Presents were always touted as the worst part of Christmas but those were nothing, he could do that in his sleep...the rest of it, that was where he found himself drained, unable to sleep at night as he checked off a list that felt never ending. Decorations, an Advent calendar with waxy milk chocolates to open every morning before breakfast, a tree, school pageants and snack days and cookies and baking, dress up theme days, holiday parties for work, Secret Santa (this year he only had to acquire a case of wine from the Yakima Valley in Washington for Emily after she'd deemed it a particular favorite, he got off easy) and then there were the real things...the letter to Santa, keeping Jack's heart trained on hope and love, the actual magic he woke up every morning terrified he'd really screw up.

“This is awful...” he muttered, more to himself than anything and Spencer knocked into his shoulder, nudging him toward a huge display that ran the length of the mall. Fake snow glittering and fluffy, animated reindeer moving around tiny woodland animals, elves hard at work at toy benches. The North Pole, in all its wonder, right there before their eyes.

“Daddy look!” Jack shouted, tugging them toward the display excitedly. “Look! They never had THAT elf before, look how cute she is!” He caught Jack by the hand just before he dipped under the velvet rope to join the display, to walk through the invisible barrier between reality and magic. Jack didn't realize the potential cost of crossing that threshold, of seeing the elves for what they really were...toys, animated plastic and wires beneath the glittering snow. He held Jack tight, pulled him to his side and told him no. “You can't go in there,” he said, and Spencer winked at him, assured him he was doing the right thing. To keep it simple. “Boys and girls aren't allowed at the North Pole, Jack.” The boy accepted the answer and pulled his father to another display, Santa's sleigh with a big velvet bag and reindeer.

With sodas and pretzels in hand, courtesy of Spencer because he hadn't eaten lunch and he thought Jack looked like he could use some food as a distraction, they got in the line and moved slowly winding their way around the display, edging closer and closer to Santa and his workshop. The line moved at a snail's pace and Jack finished his snacks far too quickly, mowing through much of his father's pretzel and gulping down his entire soda just for something to quell the excitement. He wasn't so little anymore that he threw tantrums but he was fidgety and whiny, sitting on the floor to complain about why it wasn't going faster and Spencer could see how anxious it was making Aaron who was visibly stiffening up, about at his wit's end by the time they reached the front of the line.

“Daddy,” Jack said, tugging at his dad's coat. “He's not Santa.” He was adamant, and Aaron thought he could see the unmistakable brightness of tears in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asked, suddenly petrified that they were going to be having The Talk about the reality of Santa right there in the line. He couldn't remember a time in his life he'd ever believed in Santa, had no idea where to begin with this discussion. “He looks like Santa to me.” Grasping at straws but so far out of his depth. There was an almost daily fear that he was woefully unequipped for this, as if every other parent on the planet had been allowed access to a manual and he'd missed out on it.

“No,” Jack was adamant and when the young lady dressed as an elf tried to beckon him forward for his turn, he staunchly refused. Digging his heels into the ground, arms folded over his chest, he huffed and shook his head. Aaron's eyes were wide, looking at Jack desperately. He wouldn't allow a scene to erupt, they wouldn't do it and he was ready to call it a night, to walk away after hours of waiting when Spencer nudged him and silently asked permission to take this one. He stepped forward, crouching beside Jack until he could meet the boy's eyes for the second time that night.

“You're right, I don't think that's really Santa,” Spencer whispered. This was just between the two of them. “My mom has a friend who told me a long time ago that Santa sends his helpers out to meet kids, to get their Christmas wishes and bring them back to him, especially when it's this close to Christmas. I think you should still talk to him.”

“I'm nervous,” Jack whispered, and Spencer's smile was so genuine and so easy that he sucked in a deep breath and continued. “I need to talk to the real Santa...the thing I'm asking for isn't a toy, and the real Santa already knows...” Jack didn't want to have to explain anything, to say that he'd spoken to Santa last year about his mom, and he already knew how sad his dad was...if he was going to ask Santa to make his dad happy, he needed to know the details and he just didn't want to go through it all again. So, he stayed quiet and Spencer spoke instead.

“I get nervous a lot too, especially in new situations. I don't really like things that are unpredictable, but sometimes life is like that anyway.

Would you like me to sit with you? I can introduce you to this Santa and make sure he understands how important your request is.”

Aaron never heard a word, just stared in breathless wonder as Spencer performed something akin to witchcraft, taking his distraught child and making him smile. Not just smile, beam as he walked toward Santa and handed him a letter while Spencer settled himself down on a seat made to look like an over-sized gift box. There was a letter, crumpled, quickly handed to Santa in very very secret, and then the flash blinded him and the next thing he knew, he was paying without realizing they were all done. It was a blur, so fast it seemed hardly worth the time they'd waited in line. Jack bounded over to him, chattering excitedly about how Santa assured him this would be the best Christmas ever and Aaron smiled, easily, the last of the things on his list checked off for the night. They could relax, meet Dave and Emily for dinner, have an easy evening.

“Spencer,” came a voice deep and whimsical from behind him, almost surrounding him like a lovely warm blanket, and Spencer turned around to find Santa standing beside him, a smile on his round face. His cheeks almost looked painted over the top of his very real white beard, and Spencer found himself taken aback, reciting words of poetry in his mind without any intention. The prose just struck him, fluttered through his mind like snowflakes on the wind. His eyes, how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow...

There was a letter in his gloved hand, wrinkled and worn at the edges like it was old and had been carried around in a pocket for weeks, maybe longer. “I believe this is for you.” Confused, Spencer accepted the letter and watched as Santa nodded, the fluffy ball at the end of his hat knocking against his nose. He winked and Spencer smiled in spite of himself, tucking the letter deep into his pocket. His hand shook, he didn't know why, the moment felt big, tremendous, filled with more questions than answers. Something coursed like electricity through his fingers the minute they connected with the letter, brushed Santa's hand, and he watched in awe as he resumed his seat at the base of the tree, calling out HO HO HO in a booming voice that echoed through the bones of the mall itself. Spencer could swear he heard sleigh bells off in the distance, but no one else seemed to pay it any attention. Maybe he was losing his mind, caught up in the Christmas commotion, the wonder of childhood he embraced now as an adult far more than he ever had at the correct age.

The curiosity over the encounter and the letter ate at him as he approached Aaron and Jack, followed them down the walkway to the restaurant where they were meeting Dave and Emily the the dodgy chain restaurant that loomed with its gaudy neon signs advertising cheap beers and daily specials. "This place looks like heartburn," Aaron had whispered in Spencer's ear and it made him chuckle.

“So, buddy, what'd you ask Santa for?” Aaron asked, crouching beside Jack as he swiped a crisp paper towel over his freshly washed hands, ready to eat dinner. Jack narrowed his eyes, as if he were wondering momentarily whether he should divulge the secret, whether the wish might not come true if he shared but he desperately wanted his father to know nonetheless. He didn't know the rules about Santa and wondered if he shouldn't have asked. Was it like birthday wishes, if you told it wouldn't come true? Or was it more free form?

“I'm gonna tell you but you have to promise not to get upset," he started, waiting his father out for a reaction. When his face remained still, he continued. "I just told Santa that I wanted you to be happy...” Aaron smiled, more than a little overcome, and he looked at the floor for a moment to gather his wits, to keep the tears now burning at bay. “I know I'll get all the toys I want, you always get me everything on my list...so I asked Santa to help you. I hope that's okay.”

“Jack...” Aaron whispered, swallowing a lump in his throat. His voice was raw, raspy. “I am happy.” It wasn't exactly a lie but Jack huffed seriously anyway and shook his head, adamant that his father misunderstood him. Like always.

“That isn't what I meant,” he muttered, hoping Santa hadn't been confused by his request like his dad was. But Santa would have the letter, he would know. And if he really was Santa, he'd know exactly who to give it to...he'd left that up to magic he didn't even pretend to understand. They were interrupted by Spencer popping his head around the corner, letting them know that Dave and Emily had just arrived, stumbled in really, and their table was ready. The easy smile that lit up Aaron's somber features at the sight of Spencer told Jack that maybe Santa had already listened, maybe his wish had already come true. “It's okay, dad. Santa gets it.”

“Gets what?” Spencer chirped, falling into step with Aaron who just shrugged.

“I think,” he whispered as Jack ran up and wrapped Dave in a hug before tumbling into Emily, nearly knocking her over in his delight. “Jack asked Santa to play matchmaker.” Spencer laughed. A serious look crossed Aaron's features and he held them back just a moment. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, and Spencer's breath hitched in his throat. “What is it?”

“It's just...you are happy, right?”

“Yes. Very.” He didn't smile, though, and Spencer cocked an eyebrow, smirking, and he had the distinct impression that Spencer knew more than he did about Jack's request. That they were somehow in cahoots. The letter burned in Spencer's pocket and he ran his fingers along the soft edge of the paper. The letter, he noted later, was still sealed, addressed only to Santa in Jack's loopy childish scrawl. Unsure how the man had known his name, or that the letter was intended for him, he held onto it, more than a little concerned at what he'd find inside.

“Okay. Fair enough. Let's go eat.”

There were days that stretched out punctuated by dinner eaten with nothing but Christmas tree light and the heady scent of cinnamon, gumdrops and gooey vanilla frosting. He was doing everything in his power to remember the Christmas that Haley provided as he worked, the gingerbread houses and sugary fingers, turning the other cheek when Jack would sneak pieces of licorice or nibbles of cookie from the quickly stale houses he always thought of as decorations but Jack saw only as a treat in the wide open. A glass of milk and homemade chocolate chip cookies were left by the window when Jack wondered aloud how exactly Santa would get inside without a fireplace.

“Magic,” Aaron assured him with a small smile that lacked confidence. "Not everyone has a fireplace, but Santa finds a way." He didn't know much about Santa, truth be told, and as much as he'd hoped otherwise it hadn't become easier over the years to keep up the ruse, but after awhile Jack's staunch belief took the lead and all he had to do was follow. “Early bed tonight, right kiddo?” he asked, exhausted and falling to the couch once the final To Do was checked off of the mental list. The house was ready for Santa, they were in the home stretch.

“Right!” Jack exclaimed, and the rest of the night had its own momentum. He didn't have to tell Jack to brush his teeth or get into his pajamas, didn't have to remind him of any nightly routines. It was fast, the boy eager to see whether Santa would come through for him. They read through The Night Before Christmas, and Jack was delighted to hear his father's voice go low, rumble through his chest just like Santa's own when he called out Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

“Dad?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“You should go to bed early. Santa's going to bring you something too, I just know it.”

The presents decorated every surface, billowing beautiful and brightly colored out from beneath the tree. Glittering ribbon, joyful reds and greens everywhere, and Aaron watched over the steaming mug of coffee hugged to his chest as Jack tore into them one by one. He was methodical, choosing each gift carefully, shaking it first, searching out a card or a note to know who it was from (shouting out the name for Aaron to make note of for thank you notes in the coming days) and then the wrapping paper was discarded and he would squeal with delight at the sight of whatever was beneath. Driven by the anticipation, he didn't care if it was a toy or socks, he was vibrating with delight like a greedy dragon in his pile of spoils. A knock at the door shocked both of them from the moment, and Aaron glanced at the clock – Jessica and Roy weren't due for another few hours, they weren't expecting anyone. Except the look on Jack's face, the eager way he jumped up told him that maybe...maybe he had some insider info.

“Dad!” he shouted. “Answer the door! Hurry!” Aaron set his mug down and pulled his robe tight around himself, not eager to expose his ratty college t-shirt to random visitors before warily opening the door. In Jack's excitement, he realized he hadn't even bothered to look through the peephole, his trust in Jack's enthusiasm was simply too strong.

Spencer stood, still in his pajamas and robe, arms full of what smelled like sweet, syrupy, utterly decadent barely breakfast foods. Sweets, more like, but it was Christmas...wasn't that what you ate on Christmas morning? “Merry Christmas,” he announced, his chin raised high and triumphant. The bright red Santa hat on his head slipped down over his brow and he tipped his head to the side to get the puffball out of his face. Jack beamed with pure delight.

“What are you doing here?” Aaron asked, eyes wide, his heart up in his throat. Spencer glanced at Jack and back at Aaron.

“Well, I got this letter,” he replied, offering the now open envelope to Aaron with a smile. “From Santa.” Aaron took it, unfolded the paper delicately and scanned it at first. The words swam on the page before him, he recognized it instantly as Jack's handwriting, scrawled, inexperienced and loopy in red and green crayon. It was simple, no drawings or decorations, all business. As he read the letters, there were two written one on top of the other, he felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes.

Dear Santa,

My dad's had a really hard time and I think I know how to make him happy. He's in love with a man named Spencer Reid but he's too shy to tell him. I know you don't give presents to grown-ups but could you stop by Spencer's house for me please? You don't have to bring me any presents if you could just give him this letter. I think they'll listen to you.

Love,

Jack Hotchner

On the next leaf of paper, there was the second letter, much shorter and written less neatly, but it didn't matter, Aaron could scarcely read it through the tears.

Dear Uncle Spencer,

Please come tell my dad you love him too.

Jack

Aaron, with hands trembling, glanced up at Spencer who shrugged, the smile still firm on his face and he nodded, mouthed the words I LOVE YOU without saying them aloud just in case it was crossing the line. In turn, Aaron mouthed them back and the moment was not lost on Jack who had already gone back to his pile of presents, leaving the two of them to unload all of the food Spencer had brought with him. He would have to be extra good this next year for what Santa had done.

“From Santa, huh?” Aaron whispered, unable to trust his voice as they laid out the feast on what little counter space his apartment offered. Spencer nodded adamantly.

“Actually,” he began in a hushed voice. “I really think it was. I can't exactly explain it, but the envelope was sealed...there was no way for him to know what was in it and Jack never told him my name, he didn't talk to him long enough to...” The surprised look on Aaron's face gave him pause and he felt a flush rise in his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” Aaron muttered, chuckling. “I didn't realize a man of science like yourself...”

“Shut up.” He shushed Aaron by shoving a doughnut into his mouth before he could say anything else, laughing as the powdered sugar coated his lips and dusted his chin. A moment later his hand was on the back of Aaron's head and he was licking the sugar from his lips, a delicate kiss, another whispering admission of love and then it was over. While Aaron busied himself with the rest of the meal, Spencer turned back toward Jack and gave him a sly thumbs up. Of course he didn't really believe it was actually Santa...not really.

He didn't think, anyway. There had to be an explanation.

But he didn't search it out. Christmas magic, he figured, and for once was able to simply leave it there because in the end, it didn't matter...he was where he wanted to be, with people he loved, and whether it was a little boy's wish coming true or just nature running its course, the how didn't matter.

Some things are not problems meant to be solved.

[misskathcake]

Grammy Bunny

Sophia Tuxford likes to believe that everything happens for a reason. But as she looks at her phone that’s open on the text thread with her good friend and boss, Alessandro Michelle, she might think otherwise.

From: Lallo M.

“I fiori preferiti di Anne sono il garofano. Ringraziare dopo, mia cara.” (Anne's favorite flowers are carnations. Thank me later, my dear.)

To: Lallo M.

“Ti ho detto quanto adoro tutto il tuo essere? Perché lo faccio davvero.” (Have I told you how much I adore your entire being? Cause I really do.)

From: Lallo M.

“Not nearly enough, ma sono sicuro che Anne si sentirà davvero adorata una volta che le avrai regalato quei fiori. Don’t worry too much, mia cara.” (Not nearly enough, but I'm sure Anne will really feel adored once you give her those flowers. Don’t worry too much, my dear.)

To: Lallo M.

“Thanks, Lallo. You always know what to do when I worry too much. Non so cosa farò senza di te, ti amo amico mio.” (Thank, Lallo. You always know what to do when I worry too much. Don't know what I'll do without you, love you my friend.)

And that was that. Sophia Tuxford thinks that maybe some things don’t happen just for a reason, they happen because of the amazing Alessandro Michelle. Without him, Sophia might have never even met or had the nerve to approach her bunny.

Speaking of her bunny, Sophia exhales a sigh of relief upon checking for the nth time that she had no new messages or missed calls from him. She wouldn’t want to ruin Anne’s surprise for him just because her son was being the little clingy man-baby that he likes to be when with her, especially when they haven’t seen each other in person for more than a week.

Sophia halts the cab upon seeing a local London floristry from the window of her seat. With help from the driver for her single luggage, Sophia thanks him and heads straight to the door of the store. The heady scent of florals is an instant hit to her system, eyes instinctively closing to inhale one of her favorite smells in the world. She smiles, eyes lighting up to the familiarity of the scene. Whether from her local floristry just near her home in Italy, or here at a random shop in her second home of London, flowers will always bring immense joy to Sophia.

She goes ahead and asks for an arrangement of pink and white carnations, the kind lady finished preparing it in just about three minutes, and Sophia was out the door with a promise of coming back when she visits again. She’s sure that her best friend Cinzia would love an instant classic rose arrangement from them as props for her constant stream of Instagram content. Though Sophia can’t say much; Harry has rubbed some of his narcissism into her based on the rise of selfies and outfit pictures she posts on her own account.

The second cab ride, now heading towards Anne’s new home in London that Harry had gotten for her last Christmas, Sophia makes a mental checklist of what might go down today.

It’s Harry’s surprise post-Grammy win celebration that Anne had prepared and organized herself. Because of the restrictions of today’s situation, only Jeff and Glenne were fortunate enough to attend the event with Harry, and celebrate his win with him. Obviously, Anne was not a happy mother upon being denied access to travel to America, and who is she kidding? Sophia herself was no way near a happy camper upon getting the call from Alessandro that she won’t be able to see him wear the leather ensemble she had made for his Grammy opening performance in person. The green feathered boa was her idea! She has full rights to be on front row seats for that.

But Harry’s sad pouting face that greeted her on FaceTime, was an enough push to school her emotions and tend to her teary-eyed bunny who she’s sure would no doubt rival her own complaints. And up until now, as she reminisced to that time two weeks ago while sitting on this cab roaming the streets of London, Sophia feels a shiver down her spine just remembering the onslaught of tears that fell from Harry’s eyes not even five minutes down that FaceTime call.

It’s not even because of the outfit anymore and making sure it fit well and didn’t tear, it’s more about having someone there with him to support him in such a new and foreign environment. No matter the amount of award shows he has attended in his entire music career, the Grammys is a whole other realm. And it breaks Sophia’s heart remembering her fear-stricken bunny, crying tears of frustration for missing his family, friends, fans, and her. And both of them can’t do anything to fix it entirely, the way they want it.

So she was over the moon upon receiving the invite from Anne, that she was preparing an intimate afternoon lunch for Harry and his Grammy win together with close friends and family. There was not an inch of question within her when she asked Alessandro for a week-off, promising to do double the work when she came back. Obviously, since Alessandro was the one who introduced them to each other a few years back, he didn’t even bat an eye at her request and even recommended for her to bring a few bottles of wine for the party.

Since Lallo seems to know everything about love and friendship, Sophia carefully clutches in her hand the Gucci tote containing the four bottles of wine she had bought from Harry and her favorite winery in Milan, the carnations arrangement tucked by her chest and luggage behind. She was now outside the gates of Anne’s London home, security present at the front. Before they can even question if she was invited for the party or a lost girl looking for a hotel, Niall Horan emerges from the gates.

Niall was wearing a simple light yellow cotton button-up, white shorts falling just above his knee, eyes adorned with brown-tinted sunglasses. In Sophia’s opinion, the centerpiece, and most surprising detail of his outfit would have to be the classic Gucci monogrammed loafers on his feet.

When his eyes catch hers, a wide grin breaks into his face. Sophia rolls her eyes as Niall makes his way to her, whistling.

“Well look who the Italian sun brought here in dreary London,” Nial embraces her in a half-hug, a peck placed on her cheek which she returned.

Niall takes the tote bag filled with bottles of wine and chuckles at the weight of it.

“I don’t think I’m the only that the Italian sun brought here,” Sophia looks at his feet for emphasis.

Niall points out his right foot in front of him, seemingly inspecting it, “Oh, this old thing here? Honestly just found this one lying around my closet; wonder where I got it from.”

Sophia looks at him with a raised brow, amusement written on her face for his faulty excuse.

“Alright,” Niall surrenders, “Harry might have hinted a few times that they're a comfy pair of shoes, so thought I might give them a try.”

“And?” she wiggles her brows up and down.

Niall rolls his eyes before laughing while admitting, “Alright, fine! These Gucci loafers are fucking comfy and worth every dime! Happy?”

Sophia laughs, clutching the flower closer to her, “Assolutamente felice! Always good to have some validation for your hard work, as you might probably know well of, with you being a musician and stuff.” (Absolutely happy!)

“Yeah, just being a musician and stuff,” Niall makes fun of her words from earlier, he leads her towards Anne’s gate where the guards are still situated.

“Boys, I’ll take this one from here, don’t you worry.” he addresses the guards who are still looking warily at her, “This woman right here is precious cargo that must be taken with utmost love and care. Just ask your boss and he’ll be happy to respond to questions about anything or everything related to this woman.”

Sophia laughs and lightly hits Niall on the arm, his unnecessary flowery words making her cheeks heat tinted pink.

“What?” Niall chuckles at her, “Harry can talk for ages about you, mate! I ask about bloody loafers, and he talks my ears off about how you personally hand-stitch some of them and that you know the specific different shades of brown for the thread to be used, and that you prefer the one with a bit of faux fur at the end cause you-”

Sophia covers his mouth with her free hand, cheeks completely tinted red now. “Oh mio dio, Niall! The guards don’t need to hear all that.” (Oh my god, Niall!)

Her flustered reaction earns a full-belly laugh from Niall who claps his hands together before actually leading her inside the gate of the house. They reach the front door of the house itself, Niall’s laughter still boisterous with Sophia’s constant murmurs of disapproval floating around the air. Before they can even knock, the door swings open with Louis Tomlinson greeting them at the end of it.

“Oh shit!” Louis possibly shouts to the entire house, “The precious Italian cargo has arrived, ladies and gents! Harold will for surely cry his fucking eyes out now, for fucking sure!”

If it was even possible, Sophia feels like actually melting to the ground in a puddle of embarrassment. Before she can even be subject to more teasing, Anne appears from her view and she positively smiles at her.

“My lovely, Sophia!” She opens her arms to hug her, “So glad you could make it! How was your flight?”

Sophia returns her hug before answering, “Pretty good, slept the whole way through to be honest. These are for you by the way.”

Anne accepts the flowers that she has outstretched on her hand, positively beaming with happiness and surprise, “Oh love! You shouldn’t have! And carnations? My favorite! Well I guess Niall didn’t need to get more flowers after all.”

The two ladies turn their attention to Niall and Louis who are still quietly snickering by their side. Sophia narrows her eyes at them, seeing the mischief clearly written in their irises.

“She even brought some wine, Anne!” Niall shares enthusiastically, raising the Gucci tote in his hand.

“A proper daughter-in-law etiquette, huh Anne?” Louis chirps playfully.

Anne laughs as Sophia narrows her eyes further, free arms now crossing across her chest. Anne places an arm around her shoulder as some sort of protection.

“You boys stop teasing Soph, alright? Harry won’t appreciate hearing his two best mates poking fun at his girl.”

The fact that Harry’s mom categorized her as ‘his girl’ regardless of the lack of label the two have, made her tense a bit. And the knowing glances of the two boys at her was not helping at all. She knows that Anne didn’t mean to tease her or anything, that’s just how it looks to her, and to everyone apparently.

“Why don’t you choose a room to place your luggage at, Soph?” Anne turns to her, “You can also freshen-up a bit if you want, before you make your rounds at the party and before Harry’s arrival. Actually, you can just stay in his room cause the poor boy has been missing you dearly.”

The frown on Anne’s face upon mentioning Harry’s misfortunes about missing her, ultimately diminishes any underlying feeling of embarrassment for the implication of sharing a room with her son. Sophia herself frowns, thinking about what her bunny might have been saying to his mom, not liking the thought that he was missing her too much to the point where he had to find solace with his mom.

“Yeah, I think I’d take you on that one Anne.”

“Wonderful!” Anne claps her hands with a small smile on her lips now, “It’s the first room right after the lounge area upstairs. Can you carry your stuff yourself or should I instruct Lou to help you up?”

Louis smirks, “Open for service here, Ma’m. My dear friend Haz would not appreciate his lady toppling down the stairs, yeah?”

“No, I’m alright. I think our dear friend Haz would appreciate it better if you two help his lovely mother with the wine and flowers I brought with me, instead of teasing me all the time, yeah?”

Anne looks at her with a proud smile, having been able to hold her ground with the boys’ teasing which is a difficult feat to do considering they’re twenty-plus year olds who definitely still act like teenagers.

“Well, you heard her! Come on, make yourselves useful and help me along in the kitchen.” Anne orders the two boys as Sophia looks at them smugly, especially when she notices the small frowns forming on the boys’ faces as Anne instructs specific tasks for each of them.

It wasn’t difficult for Sophia to bring her single luggage up the stairs, nor to find Harry’s room as the boy had a penchant for placing his initials on the stuff he owns. Her fingertips glide softly on the gold blocks spelling out HS right in the top middle of the door; her mind can’t help but float to the similar rings adorned on his fingers who’s touch on her skin seemed such a foreign feeling now.

The room doesn’t have the same comforting scent that Harry’s room has in his Hampstead home, causing a pout on Sophia’s lips to form. It only lasts for a few seconds though cause as she surveys and inspects the room to gain some familiarity, she notices that the vanity in the bathroom is fully-stocked with Harry’s favorite brand of soaps, shampoo, aftershave, perfume, and all other beauty and hygiene products he keeps in his own bathroom.

Nobody should be surprised really that Sophia’s blatant enthusiasm for this discovery led her to only one conclusion: to have a shower and use the bloody stuff.

She smells like him is the first thought that comes to her mind upon drying herself of any droplets of water, making her way back to the bathroom where her outfit for the party is placed. Sophia feels extra giddy when she spritzs herself Harry's favorite Tom Ford perfume on her linen-buttoned vest, even spraying a bit on her matching cream linen trousers. She kept her makeup simple, thinking that smudging it is the last thing on her agenda as she’s sure that a showering of kisses and cuddles are inevitable later.

Once she feels confident in her appearance and that she feels ready to socialize and mingle around Harry’s abundant amount of close friends and family, she finishes her outfit by tying the laces of her new Jordans in Harry’s favorite color: baby blue. Sophia bets that it’s going to be the first thing Harry notices on her look for the day, instantly recognizing the meaning behind the gesture which is similar to everytime he wears anything lilac: her favorite color.

***

The extremely kind and sociable person that Harry is, definitely garnered him a lot of friends in the span of his 27-years of existence on this earth. But as Sophia makes rounds in the living room, kitchen, and the backyard, she’s thankful to notice that everyone here in Anne’s home ready to celebrate Harry’s first Grammy win, are nothing but part of his closest friends. Being best friends with him for about six years now, Sophia has seen firsthand the tragedies Harry had experienced when it comes to exposing fake friends and finding out who are the ingenuine ones that want nothing but to leech on his fame and all the privileges that come with it.

Sophia lingers with Louis and Niall for quite a bit in the kitchen, catching-up on the two musicians busy lives of preparing for postponed tours and new albums on the horizon. Obviously, Sophia doesn’t fail in trying to coax them into getting Gucci to dress them for some of their upcoming shows but was instantly denied (as always) saying they’re not as posh as Harry is who needs custom suits for every bloody concert. Her nose twitches in distaste as Louis even shares that sometimes he doesn’t wear clean clothes for his concert and nobody really gives a fuck about it cause according to him: “They come hear to listen and enjoy my music, not oggle my body with my fancy, fashion show, runway-esque clothing.”

Sophia doesn’t take offense on that, knowing he was only joking and that far more worse words have been spoken to her. Besides, it only fuels her drive to dress him, Niall, Harry, and even Liam, in matching sparkly Gucci suits that is for sure every damn One Direction fans’ are dreaming about.

When the two boys are whisked-away by some of their former One Direction crew members that Harry remained in close contact to, Sophia finds herself beside Nick Grimshaw in the backyard patio together with Mitch. She finds it amusing and interesting at the same time how Harry’s two closets, yet extremely polar opposite friends, are here right now discussing the latest episode of Love Island while waiting to celebrate him.

“I’ve always encouraged this one to audition,” Nick motions to her, placing an arm around her shoulder for emphasis, “Mitch, don’t you think she’d be a bloody brilliant contestant on the show? I think she’s going to be the little innocent heartbreaker on the island.”

Mitch actually laughs out loud at that, “Not sure man, I think the only heart Soph will be breaking is H’s heart by joining the show. Don’t think he’d take that lightly.”

“Oh he’s going to bawl his eyes out if she actually gets accepted yeah? And write bloody heartbreak songs about it for sure.” Nick says amusedly like Sophia was not sitting so close to him hearing him say all these.

“I don’t think we have to wait until she gets accepted before H cries his eyes out. Just the moment she tells him she plans on auditioning, not a minute later he’s going to be knocking on Sarah and I’s door in the brink of a breakdown and pours his broken heart in a new tune. I bet my favorite guitar that he’d even get a custom Gucci suit in her favorite color to fully embody his sorrow.”

“MITCH!”

And that was left at that; Sophia’s screech of his name has signalled his lovely girlfriend Sarah to come to the rescue, pledging full support for Sophia’s complaints about his and Nick’s relentlessly teasing. A minute later, she spots Gemma and Michal in the living room talking with Harry Lambert and Anthony Pham, which she suspects have also just arrived like the couple.

Sophia is greeted warmly by the new company, Lambert saying high-praises about all of Harry’s Grammy outfits saying how excellent her execution was of their vision. Anthony even opens his camera to share some of the shots he took of Harry that truly exemplifies the entire look, and eagerly accepted Sophia’s request for him to send her some of the pictures she liked. Gemma and Michal also shared some stories about their recent trip in Cornwall, England, where they watched Harry’s Grammy performance saying how much Harry and her would definitely love it there and should make a holiday out of it.

Sophia doesn’t notice the minutes that pass-by, being too submerged in the couple’s stories about their trip, and also sharing some of her own from her trip with Alessandro in Tuscany and Florence to gain some new inspiration for new collections. The next thing she knows, Anne announces loudly to the room that Harry’s five minutes away with Jeff and Glenne, and then Louis is ushering her to the kitchen saying something about “surprising Harold’s fucking face with a cake.”

Apparently she’s part of the surprise, so Sophia is left to peek at the corner of the kitchen archway as instructed by Louis before he left her there, cake in her hand as all others wait excitedly in the living room for Harry’s arrival.

Sophia feels him before she can see him, nor before she hears the outburst cheer of the guests as every single nerve in her body tingles, like it just knows Harry’s there a few feet away from her. She can feel his energy from her hidden position, and she’s pretty sure he’ll feel it too in less than a minute; it’s a them thing. Two energies attracting and forming into one has always been their thing, always will be the thing that will keep them intrinsically connected.

“She’s here,” she hears Harry say, not in a question but in a definitive statement.

“Who’s ‘she’?” Louis asks, acting confused, “Are you referring to your bloody song again, mate? Cause I’m pretty sure we’re here to celebrate your Grammy win and not talk about boring tour stuff.”

Sophia hears everyone laugh at that, can actually imagine the roll of eyes Harry might be giving his best friend for his comments.

“No, she’s here.” Harry says with more edge, “I can feel her, she’s here, in this house, and you guys are probably hiding her the fuck away from me. Is she in my room or something? Is she asleep and you guys didn’t even bloody wake her up before you planned to surprise me?”

Sophia laughs quietly at the alarm and disbelief in his tone, and she guesses Harry might actually believe his theory was correct judging by the protests of people saying that he should stop going up the stairs cause she’s not there.

“Can you guys just tell H where Sophia is, cause I don’t want him crying in the next second.” Jeff says eliciting more laughter around everyone.

Well that’s her que to enter, Sophia thinks to herself. And just like that, she quickly lights the candle on top of the “Congratulations for your first Harry Grammy!” with a bunch of watermelons decorated with icing around it.

Sophia’s heart actually melts upon catching her first eye-full of the beauty that is Harry Styles. He’s dressed in a full Gucci ensemble of a baby blue button-up, dark brown specks nestled atop his curly locks, black bandana acting as a necklace on his neck, and white flared trousers with her red stitching of “Loved” on the bottom, completed with a classic white leather Gucci loafers.

“Bunny.” Sophia can’t help but exhale upon making her way right in front of him, cake in her hand completely forgotten.

“Sunflower.” Harry answers back, dimples popping on his left cheek, eyes softening as he looks at her. “Did you bake this for me?”

For a moment, Sophia is confused about what he’s talking about, but as his eyes dart down to her hands, a cheeky smile thrown at her, she remembers.

“Oh! No, I didn’t. I think Anne got it somewhere for you.” She rambles uselessly, clearly already lost with Harry’s presence in front of her.

Harry giggles cutely at her reaction, “Well, I can assure you that your cake will still taste better than this, sorry mom.”

Everyone laughs at the interaction, Niall coaxing Harry to blow the damn candle already so he can have a slice of the cake for himself. Harry follows dutifully right after sending a wink at Sophia, the latter giggling at his antics.

Cheers passed around the room after the candle had been blown, Harry got the cake from Sophia’s hold and handed the cake to the waiting hands of Niall. And once no obstructions were in between the two, Harry envelopes her in a tight bear-hug, bending down to reach her height and face tucked into her neck the same hers is nuzzling at his neck.

“Mi è mancato così tanto il mio girasole” (I missed my sunflower so much.)

“Bunny.” Sophia whimpers rather pathetically as a reply, mind still reeling so fast from everything happening.

She feels overwhelmed with Harry’s scent and warmth filling her senses after so long of longing for it, combined with the eyes of their audience is just too much for her.

Harry giggles once again, “Is that all you’re going to say to me for the entirety of the day?” and he squeezes her tighter to his body, uncaring to everyone and anything around them.

“No, missed you too, my bunny. Mi sei mancato così tanto che mi fa male il cuore.” (I missed you so much that my heart hurts.)

Sophia feels the sharp in-take of air that Harry took after she said it, her own self filling with emotions as he seems to follow the same sentiments.

“Il mio cuore ha smesso di battere per essere così lontano da te, amore mio.” (My heart stopped beating for being so far away from you, my love.)

That actually makes Sophia chuckle, chuckle wetly that is. She feels the tell-tale signs of the tears resting just at the side of her eyes, Harry must have heard it too cause he groans and nuzzles further into her, nosing affectionately at the side of her neck.

“Hey, no crying lovie. Cause that’s only going to make me sad, and when my Sunflower is sad it will make me cry. Nobody wants the celebrant of the party to be a cry-baby.”

Sophia sniffles a laugh, willing her tears to no longer continue their descent, knowing full-well that Harry’s really speaking of the truth and the two of them crying together after a simple hug will never be forgotten by their friends and family which will be made known by the relentless teasing that will surely ensure.

“I’m not going to cry anymore.” She assures herself more than him to be honest.

“That’s what I’d like to hear, no more of those tears, alright Sunflower?”

She nods her head in reply, still reluctant to leave the comforting confines of his neck.

“Use your words please, lovie?”

Harry detaches from their embrace, one arm still wrapped around her waist to keep them close, ringed fingers tilting her chin up to have clear eye-contact with each other. Lost in the abyss of his green eyes, Sophia nods again and replies verbally.

“Okay, Harry. No going to cry anymore, promise.”

Her soft voice was close to a whisper, but it still etches a tender smile of acknowledgement to form on Harry’s lips. He bends down to press a kiss on her forehead before gently rubbing his nose to her in an eskimo kiss.

“Tell you what, I’d go now and make rounds with everyone here just to be polite and be a fabulous host since I am the guest of honor,” he smirks, the narcissist that he is always shows up in some form, “While I’m doing that, why don’t you join Glenne and Gem in helping mum arrange the food on the long table at the backyard? That way you can place all the dishes you fancy most by our seats so Niall doesn’t end up eating them all. That way, I can finish talking to everyone quicker and I’m justified in giving all my attention to you after that.”

“Okay, but maybe try rescheduling your attention-shower on me after lunch? Perché sai che amo il cibo più di te.” (Because you know I love food more than you.)

Sophia quickly smacks a wet sweet kiss on his dimpled cheek before leaving him there with everyone, an affronted noise of protest echoes after her as she and Glenne, linked by the arm, make their way to the kitchen to provide Anne some assistance.

“He really had no idea you were going to be here.” Glenne smiles at her as they make rounds transfering dishes from inside to the outside of the house.

“Really? I would have assumed someone would have dropped hints or something.”

“Nah, Jeff and I have been getting quite a laugh at his soppiness about missing you to be honest,” both girls giggle at Glenne’s words. “And I know you two genuinely miss each other so much, but babe! You can’t deny how absolutely hilarious Harry gets when he becomes too dramatic. The boy was complaining on the car ride here about how Jeff’s driving would cause you car sickness, and how he would definitely ‘throw hands’ if he finds out Jeff offered to drive you somewhere without his prior knowledge.”

Sophia’s jaw drops for a minute, registering this information. She laughs heartily, wishing she was there to record the entire thing.

“Throw hands? I don’t think I can trust him with that!” Sophia responds amusedly, “Harry won’t even kill a bloody ant even if it tried biting him.”

“I actually said that you won’t even subject yourself to that harm in the first place, and he should just stop moaning at the fact that you are definitely a strong independent woman who needs no man to drive her around.”

“Amen to that, babes!”

Besides, Sophia thinks she doesn't even like driving cars and would rather ride her pastel yellow Vespa around Italy to do her personal errands. She’d even offer Harry to tag-along from behind with his arms enclosed around her waist as she cruises them around cobbled streets under the heat of the Italian sun. That’s definitely a plan she’s sure her bunny won’t even think twice before agreeing.

***

The late outdoor lunch began soon after, everyone claiming seats around the long table where the feast will be held.

Sophia is waiting patiently for all the guests to pick the seats they wanted, assured by the fact that wherever Harry sits, she must follow along beside him as the celebrant had wanted.

“Sunflower,” Harry cranes his neck to search for her, when they lock eyes, he smiles at her. “Vieni qui accanto a me, per favore.” (Come here beside me, please.)

Their cheeky friends whistled good-naturedly at the exchange as Sophia makes her way to him, chair already pulled-out for her like the true gentleman that he is.

“There you go, darling.” Harry tucks her chair in when she has seated.

Sophia turns to him when he is seated too, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek in thanks. She notes the slight pinking of his cheek and how he eagerly starts attending to her by reaching for her favorite dishes (which she did strategically placed in front of them) and serves some of it on her plate. He even fetches the pitcher of mango juice and fills her glass mostly full of it before he attends to his own food.

Sophia’s sure that Harry can feel her eyes on him even as they’ve started eating already, conversations around the table sparse due to everyone’s rapt attention on their own hungry tummies.

“Is there something on my face?” Harry turns to his side to face her, eyebrows furrowing. “You keep on staring at me, lovie.”

“Nothing,” Sophia shakes her head with a small smirk on her lips, “Just think you look real cute and all, with your Gucci fit. I should tell Lallo to give more thought to this type of picnic aesthetic look you’ve got on so maybe he can make more for a possible summer collection or something.”

Harry nods his head slowly while chewing on his Yorkshire pudding, “Are you sure that’s all?”

He really knows her well, “And that your attentiveness to me is so cute, I like how you take care of me a lot. Also, you have some of the vegan roast on your plate and I didn’t get a chance to get some awhile ago before it was finished. May I please have a taste from yours?”

Harry just looks at her for a moment with a growing smile, letting her words register in his mind. When it does, he chuckles to himself.

“I think that can be arranged, as long as you share some of your vegan lasagna with me then you get yourself a deal.”

Sophia nods eagerly, “Affare, lovie.” (Deal, lovie.)

Harry gladly spoon-feeds her some of his vegan roast, while Sophia does the same with her vegan lasagna. Their whole lunch consisted of taking turns either feeding each other, or helping themselves to each other’s plates while they indulge in small conversations with their friends and family. Everyone at the table was already highly used to the twos’ affectionate exchanges, not batting an eye at Harry wiping a bit of tomato sauce that went to the side of Sophia’s mouth with his own thumb before placing his finger on his own mouth to suck-off the sauce, nor the way Sophia hand-feeds Harry some of the baked potatoes drenched in ranch with the latter’s mouth releasing a ‘pop’ sound when her fingers left his lips.

When dessert came around, it was a wise decision to just share a big plate of the cake from earlier. Since Sophia wasn’t that big of a fan of cakes in general, she happily indulges Harry to feed her again with his own fork whilst conversing with Gemma and Michal about their trip to Cornwall, suggesting the same thing to him as they did with Sophia.

“I wouldn’t mind being away from the city for a week,” Harry says, turning to Sophia to feed her again. “I’m honestly down to go, if you are, Sunflower. Do you have some slaving to do for Lallo and his clothes next week?”

Sophia giggles at his joke, “I do have some slaving to do for Lallo and his clothes next week, and you’re kind of the reason for it since I am staying here in London for a week and not going to work for him right now.”

Now that was a surprise for Harry. It was a rare occasion for Sophia to leave work for a week without being planned for months as taking her away from making clothes is a very difficult feat to accomplish. Harry himself has to inform her two weeks before if he plans to have dinner with her when he’s visiting Italy.

Harry whistles, throwing a smirk at Sophia, “Must mean I’m a special boy then, if you’re leaving Lallo and his clothes for me, for a whole bloody week. Fuck, I think I might actually cry.”

He jokingly sniffs and wipes his dry eyes, their friends and family including Sophia are chuckling at his dramatics.

“You kinda are... special, I mean.” Sophia says shyly that Harry intertwines his right hand with hers, giving the back of it a reverent kiss.

“You are too, so special, my Sunflower.” He whispers back, squeezing her hand and bringing their joined hands to rest on his thigh. “Does this mean we’ll postpone our Cornwall trip for another time, and instead I’ll bring you with me to Homes Chapel for the rest of the week?”

Sophia should have guessed that after staying in such a busy city that is Los Angeles, California, Harry would want to stay for a bit in a more chill and quiet place like that of his family home in Cheshire when he arrives back in London. It’s just that she’s never been there actually. Harry and her have not yet reached that stage in their friendship/relationship whatever limbo that they’re in where they take each other to their hometowns and childhood homes. It seems quite a big deal for Sophia, like the next step after meeting the parents - kind of serious.

She honestly doesn’t want to impose herself in Anne’s home, knowing that she would probably want to soak up as much time as she can have with her son too before he goes off to plan and do his tour. But Sophia doesn’t think she can answer anything else but a ‘yes’ as Harry’s green wide doe-like eyes peer up at her all softly, like it would seriously hurt him if she says otherwise.

Before Harry has the chance to pull-out the matching pout to convince her, Sophia is nodding her in answer with an all too knowing look on her face.

“Yes, I’ll go to Homes Chapel with you, sciocco bunny.” (silly bunny.)

The winning smile that overtakes the whole of Harry’s face, stays for the entirety of the day as he kisses her cheeks and nose in utter excitement.

***

After the late lunch in the backyard, most people stayed to converse with Harry and the others some more, while some said their goodbyes and left for other engagements. Much to Harry’s earlier promise, he had kept Sophia by his side the majority of the time they were talking to their friends, one hand either at the small of her back, her hip, around her waist, or on top of her thigh when they have found themselves lounging in the couches at the living room.

By this time, most people have already left before dinner. The only ones left staying are his sister and her boyfriend, Niall, Louis and Nick, Jeff and Glenne, Lambert and Anthony, and his band. They have just popped a movie on the TV via NetFlix while Jeff, Harry and Niall went to the kitchen to serve some of the bottles of wine she had brought.

Harry returns with four wine glasses on his two giant hands, handing two to Gemma and Michal, and the last one to Sophia; noting that it’s so sweet of her to have brought fresh from Italy their favorite wine.

“Up you get, Sunflower,” he motions for her to stand-up from her position on the couch. Sophia follows his order and Harry situates himself comfortably in her previous position and taps his thighs for her to sit on.

She carefully sits sideways on his lap, not wanting to spill their glasses of wine in Anne’s new and pristine white couches. Harry’s arm circles around her waist to keep her in place on his lap, and they clink their glasses together before taking a sip.

Everyone watched the movie while contentedly sipping on their glasses of wine, occasionally breaking into small conversations every once in a while. As the movie nears the end, everyone is pretty much wine-happy and laughter around the living area can be more prominently heard. Harry in particular had immersed himself in a full conversation with Nick and Louis about footie and making plans to have a ‘rager weekend like the good o’l lads time before becoming proper wifed-up popstars’ when the World Cup time arrives.

Sophia has decided to just listen around her, saying things here and there when she wants too, but majority of the time she has found comfort in completely going pliant against Harry’s body with her head resting on his shoulder and nose occasionally nuzzling at the side of his neck.

At a particular lull in his conversations, Harry returns the gesture and nuzzles his nose at Sophia’s neck, properly sniffing it afterwards.

“Did you use my perfume?” He looks at her with a small frown on his forehead.

Sheepishly, Sophia giggles and hides her face on his neck, trying to avoid eye-contact.

“Heeeyyy…” Harry giggles back, “Why are you acting all shy now, Sunflower? I just asked a simple and innocent question.”

The hidden tone of teasing in his voice is very apparent in Sophia’s ear, “What if I did, use your perfume or something like that?”

“So is that a yes, then?”

“I asked you a question first, don’t be naughty.”

Harry does a belly-laugh at that, squeezing Sophia closer to him.

“Me? You’re the one who was being naughty and used my perfume, lovie.”

“Alright, I used it. Così quello che ora?” (So what now?)

Sophia feels Harry take a lungful of her scent again, “Nothing, you just smell like me.”

Sophia can’t confirm if that referred to something good or bad, so she goes out of her hiding from his neck, piercing her curious blue eyes with his green orbs. What she finds is the slight pinking of Harry’s ear, a tell-tale sign of flusteredness.

She throws him a smirk, “You like it, you like me smelling like you.” she says it definitively, no room for questioning. “Cattivo, cattivo bunny.” (Naughty, naughty bunny.)

Harry positively turns pink now, all over his neck to his cheeks. He giggles shyly, then ducks to find his face on her neck this time.

“Not being naughty…” he mumbles in a baby voice on her skin. “Adoro il tuo odore come me. Really are my Sunflower.” (I just adore how you smell like me.)

Sophia can’t help but smile, so endeared by the affection Harry was giving her. She was already used to his sweet nature ever since they became close friends. It just catches her off-guard right now as it has been awhile since has experienced it beyond a virtual screen.

Harry situates himself comfortably in that position, arms still wrapped around her body sitting on his lap, his face squished and nuzzles on her neck, sometimes dropping kisses on the skin of her collarbones and even at the cut of her jaw. Sophia returns the attention by massaging the curls on his head, lips finding his forehead every now and then.

They’re no longer wine-happy, they’re more in the wine-cuddly state now; immersed at each others’ touch and warmth. God, did Sophia really miss having her bunny in her arms to love on.

***

Sophia’s arms and legs are wrapped tightly around Harry, the latter’s arms supporting her weight as he carries her upstairs to his room.

“Stop squeezing my ass, H.” Sophia giggles while Harry opens the door with his right hand, the other squeezing one of her backsides’ cheeks.

“Never! I missed you, lovie. Give a man a fucking break!”

He enthusiastically seats them on his bed, bouncing at the impact of his fast action resulting in laughter to ensue between them.

“Baby!” Sophia screeches, squeezing herself tighter around Harry when her straddling position gives him better access to squeeze her ass cheeks.

“Bloody fuck, did I miss everything about you.” He groans, dropping his head on her neck to litter wet kisses on the skin. “And you’re going to be wearing my perfume from now on too, you smell delectable, Sunflower.”

Sophia sighs contently, allowing Harry’s suckling on her neck. “Bunny, don’t think that can happen. Lallo will fire me if he smells me in your Tom Ford perfume, they’re still our competitors, remember?”

Harry giggles and leaves one last wet kiss on the red mark he made at the side of her neck, “Is he still bitter about that?” Sophia just nods her head while smiling.

Harry rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “Tell your boss to get over himself! I am allowed to love other things aside from Gucci, and besides, if you weren’t employed to him I’d probably have asked Lambert to find me another fashion house to do my next tour.”

Sophia’s mouth drops in shock at his joke, hands slapping his shoulder automatically, “Oh mio Dio, sei così morto per Lallo!” (Oh my god, you’re so dead to Lallo!)

“I’m just joking lovie! Don’t tell on me!”

“Na-uh, say goodbye to your boas and sparkly vests for tour.”

She pretends to reach for her phone in her side pocket and Harry swiftly delivers a spank on her bum, halting her actions in a laugh as he quickly turns them around and lays her body on the bed with him resting on top of her.

“Harry Styles, we are going to have a talk about your sudden obsession with my bum, this is not going to be a healthy habit bunny.”

Harry laughs at her disgruntled face, “Not sudden though, I have always loved your bum.”

“Yeah? So you are a bum guy then?” She asks cheekily, giggling at his raised brow.

“What's that comment supposed to mean? I swear you young ones have new meanings for everything.”

“Hey! FYI, you’re just a year older than me, so don’t tell me I’m that young, I appreciate the flattery though.” They share a laugh at that, “And the question I asked has no ulterior meaning bunny, just asking for your confirmation that you really are more of a bum man than a boob man.”

“Boob man?!” Harry asks, shocked that the phrase even came out of Sophia’s mouth.

Sophia giggles, “Yeah, boob man. Like, you prefer these,” and she presses her chest to him from their position, “Or my bum.”

Harry smirks, “Can I not be both? Like, I adore both parts of your body, Sunflower. Can’t choose a favorite, I think. Wait, lemme check.”

All of a sudden, one of his large hands find their way on her ass with a squeeze, the other doing the same at one of her breasts. Sophia’s breath stutters at the unexpected intimate action.

“Um,” Harry says, like he’s thinking, and delivers another squeeze at both body parts, “I think I love them both dearly, so that makes me an ass and boob man, yeah? Actually, Sophia's ass and boob man is more like it.”

She groans at his cheekiness, Harry only laughs at her undeniably pink and flustered state as he delivers an eskimos kiss with their noses and hugs her tighter to him with his whole body flopped on top of hers.

“Alright, that’s enough touching bunny, have to get off of me.”

“No way, cuddle me forever and ever now that you’re back with me!”

“Can’t give you your present if that’s your plan.”

That shuts him up, never one to decline presents especially from her, “What present? It’s not my birthday yet if you forgot.”

She rolls her eyes and gently squeezes his love handles, “Obviously I know, it’s more of a special present since you won your first-ever Grammy even though you deserve to have won the other two as well that you were nominated for.”

Harry snorts at her collarbone where his face is resting, “Better stop stroking my ego, lovie. Reckon won’t be good for narcissists like myself.”

Sophia fondly squeezes his love handles again, “I’m not stroking your ego, Ti sto solo apprezzando come meriti.” (I’m just appreciating you as you deserve.)

Harry hums softly in answer, placing a deep kiss on the cavity of her collarbone before removing himself on top of her and sitting down on the bed.

“I suggest you fetch that gift already before I pounce on you to show my own appreciation for you.”

Sophia laughs at the look of seriousness on Harry’s face, making her way to his closet where she unpacked her suitcase and the green Gucci parcel she wrapped herself before flying to London.

Sophia makes her way back to the bedroom, sitting beside Harry who’s waiting obediently with a child-like smile of excitement on his face upon seeing the familiar parcel on her hands.

Sophia giggles and places the parcel in front of him “Pressie time!”

“Thank you, Sunflower. Already know I’m going to love it cause it’s from my love.”

His cheesy words make Sophia roll her eyes, “Stop being a sap and just open it already.”

“Alright, alright. Such an impatient flower today, huh?”

Carefully, Harry places the Gucci parcel on his lap, delicately opening the various layers of package with his glistening ringed fingers. Sophia watches in anticipation beside him, fetching her phone to capture the moment in video.

The moment the present is revealed to his eyes, Harry loudly gasps and softly runs his hand on the pink leather of the Gucci Jackie bag that he adores so much.

“It’s pink, do you like it bunny?” Sophia asks while giggling at his continuous look of awe, focusing the camera of the phone on his face.

“Of course I fucking love it! It’s bloody pink, my favorite color, Sunflower!” He places the parcel on the bed, bag still inside, and closes the gap between the two of them by pulling her to him in a hug, surprising Sophia with a squeal.

Harry quickly rearranges them back to a straddling position, arms wrapped around her body tightly with her own around his neck. He deposits a kiss at the side of her mouth, smiling so big that Sophia has no choice but to return it.

“Grazie amore mio. Ama sempre ciò che mi dai.” (Thank you my love. Alway love what you give me.)

Sophia giggles at his cuteness, heart always warming whenever Harry speaks Italian. She returns his kiss on his forehead, thumbing-away that one stubborn curl always falling there.

“Sei sempre il benvenuto, bunny. I know that Lallo doesn’t sell your favorite bag in pink, so I requested this right after you got nominated cause obviously, I already knew you were going to win. And also, I especially asked for this kind of pink, this Harry pink, like the shade you love so much on your debut album. I even had to go back a few times to the craftsmen department just to make sure they got the right shade of pink. Bless Lallo for not ordering me to just make the bag myself after I’ve ‘harassed’ his workers continuously.”

Her rambling has endeared Harry tremendously, always transfixed everytime she just lets her words run down from her mouth. As someone who’s usually more observant and reserved, Sophia rarely rambles in this fashion, Harry or Alessandro being the only ones who are able to unleash this side of hers.

“God, you’re fucking amazing.” is all that Harry has the power to say, the English vocabulary lost somewhere in the back of his brain as everything in him has been replaced by everything about his Sunflower.

Sophia likes to believe that everything happens for a reason, that maybe having Alessandro in her life is the reason why she met Harry.

But what if that didn’t matter?

Sitting on the lap of the boy she utterly adores, surrounded by his warmth, love, and energy, makes Sophia believe that whether because of Alessandro or not, she was placed on this earth to care and protect this real-life curly cherub of a man. No other reason is needed for Sophia to fulfill that.

[askamykruber]

Hiya! Since the puppets seem to enjoy Christmas and Thanksgiving, how do they feel when it comes to Halloween?

Hi this is Owen Gubberson, Sadly Amy cannot answer this particular question, and well the subject of asked is in fact quite delicate, so I chose to canc-

Owy, what are ya doing? I was getting some-

Shi- Hi Amy!

Owy, is that a guest asking a question?

Yes...

Oh, great! Wait-Were you 'bout to say you're cancellin' a question?

....

Owen, are you tryin' to cancel out a question?!

...

Owen....

....

Owen Joseph Gubberson Wells, I swear if you don't answer this instant-

IT'S ABOUT HALLOWEEN!

Halloween?

*Noises* DID YOU JUST SAY HALLOWEEN?! "

"LET ME ANSWER, I GOT SO MANY FACTS!"

"I MADE THE BEST PUMPKIN CARVINGS!"

"I HELPED ORGANIZE THE FIRST PARTY, AND I AM THE LEADER OF THE HANDEEMEN"

"I pranked my teachers on my first Halloween"

Scout, that was not nice, you know?

"I baked cookies :)"

NO! WE ARE NOT ANSWERING THIS!

"He's just bitter from that time my aunt got him to dress as a flower to match her bumblebee costume, @theworthlessdragon"

THAT IS NOT THE CASE, SARABETH!

"If that's so, Uncle Owen, then let your kids answer"

Beth's got a point, dear

NO! WE ARE NOT ANSWERING THIS

"Awww :("

"Why not, Father?"

"TYPICAL OF THE LAB RAT!"

"But Halloween is our excuse to go out without pretending to be inanimate objects!"

"C'mon, Gubberson! Where's your Halloween spirit?"

Halloween is over Scout! We DON'T have to answer this :)

"He. Is. Bitter."

Shut it Beth!

*Rolls eyes* Y'all fight in the back while I respond to this question!

Sorry about that, my dear. This has been a constant fight Owy and I have regarding lettin' the kids enjoy Halloween.

As far as you can see, the Handeemen are very enthusiastic about Halloween and the fact that they can go out and pretend to be a costume. They're also the whole "Hide the sugary stuff from Scouty" but let's get to the best and most positive aspects.

Like I said before, the Holidays were a way to help us grew closer with the puppets. Halloween was no exception.

We did have to clarify that umm using their former resources as decorations perhaps could not be the best idea.

Or legal, but that's a concept we're trying to teach them.

We often try to dress up the kids for Halloween using costumes we find for their size, or sometimes Mama helps me make them.

"We once got a family costume idea to go as characters from horror, classic, and Halloween movies Anthony and I dressed up as Jason from Friday the 13th and Carry. My aunt Amy even got dressed as Tiffany Valentine and got Uncle Owy to dress up as Chucky!"

It was certainly a fun memory, Beth.

Scout was not really onboard with the idea but we conviced them to go as Danny from Hocus Pocus.

"Riley went as Freddy Krueger"

Nick decided to go as the sad looking goth guy from that Tim Burton film. What was it again? He had scissors for hands.

What was the name again, Beth?

"Edward Scissorhands. He used rubber scissors"

Oh, right!

"Daisy decided to go as one of the witches from Hocus Pocus so Scout wouldn't feel left alone. I think we went as Winifred."

The Sock puppets and automatons were Zombies

"And Mortimer stole the show referencing the villain from that Alex Hitchcock movie: Rear Window"

Got a flashlight and everything.

But that was years later. Their first Halloween they just went as their normal selves and adores seeing every decoration. They asked us when the next Halloween was and agreed that perhaps we can get into an agreement to decorate the studio every Halloween.

Hope that answers your question!

-Amy

OCC/Phantom: I made a reference in one of Beth's dialogues. Hope y'all can catch it ;)

[verytiredbeaver]

Because I'm bored and it's almost the Christmas season I thought I might rank the John Lewis Christmas adverts over the last few years. For anyone who doesn't know John Lewis is a pretty big department store in the UK and its kinda a Christmas tradition that they release these fairly elaborate Christmas adverts every year.

I know this is just capitalist pandering and I'm ultimately playing into systems which are destroying the world and meaning of holidays.... anyway.

The 2012 advert is pretty good, people really like this one apparently and while it's a nice simple message it's too vague for me. I don't really feel anything out of watching it and the song isn't that good imo. 5/10

2013 is a tough one, on the one hand the designs are wonderful and Lilly Allen is an icon. Looking at the behind the scenes I realised that this at least partially animated by stop motion bur I dunno, something about this one still just doesn't click for me. I do like the whole message of sticking together despite differences but as a whole it's not really my favourite 6/10

I love Monty the penguin so much but the song isn't that good and just feels a tad off hut otherwise pretty great. I felt this penguins need to feel togetherness with another on a very deep level but the thing with the toys at the end just kind of doesn't click for me. 5/10

FINALLY! The reason I have been obsessed with these adverts for almost a decade now. Instant classic, instant tears, song is perfect, message is good, overall vibe is cute. I go feral for the bit where the party sound cuts out and the old man is all alone and then it comes back when he gets the telescope. 2015 is flawless, genuinely imo 1000/10

2016 was a bad year for all of us, wasn't it. This included, I like foxes but the cgi isn't great and it's kinda just a repeat of 2014. I also feel it lacks any real critical message that all the other ones have had, I know this sounds idiotic but this one feels the most like an ad and only an ad. 4/10

I've actually never seen this one before I started this post.... there's a reason for that. The songs okay and I do actually like this kid and monster interacting but as a whole I think it has the opposite problem of 2016 where its trying to do a lot with very little. It feels forced and its not very good imo, also it loses points for kinda copping out in the end. 6/19

I gotta preface this by saying The Sun is bad and if you can find this video on a different YouTube channel please link below.

That aside, I love Elton John, he's a personal favourite of mine and I think in a time where arts programmes and the value of stuff like that gets diminished it is kinda of beautiful to visualise the impact nurturing musical talent can have on people. This feels like a very short version of Rocket man and it wouldn't shock me if they drew a little inspiration from this advert. It's not the most emotional and i think i take points off for kinda just doing Elton John whose basically guaranteed to please people but yeah, 8/10

This. This right here, one fucked up little guy, Edgar is my blorbo and I adore him. This is what 2017 wished it was. The little fantasy town is nice and the cover of the song is honestly pretty good. The general vibe is also good because it's a little sad and that's what I'm looking for tbh. 8/10

I honestly kinda of like the visual aesthetic of this one with the mixed media approach of stop motion, traditional imagination and papercraft. I like the message of this one a lot because I'm a suckered for the positive choices having wide ranging positive impact on the world. The one problem I have is the pacing is a little off and the time loop at the end feels kinda unnecessary 8/10

I have grown to like this one a bit more but u very vividly remember watching the 2021 advert and not liking it. I think it might be the alien, they don't look that alien and I'm not a huge fan of ET which this is a pretty blatant play on. While I do like the message of sharing culture and peace on earth and there's a few moments worth noting it's just kinda mid for me, the kiss at the end also kinda weirds me out but thats probably my own thoughts on this being a kind of ET homage clouding that. As I said I've softened on it but its still a 6/10

I dunno maybe this whole list is asinine and a wasteful glorification of capitalism and I should do something better with my evening

...

JUST WHEN I THINK IM OUT THEY PULL ME BACK IN. Boy howdy did I feel some things while watching this that I pressumed an advert could never stir within me. I really relate to the Taylor Swift lyric "I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try" and man does this hit the spot! Also I think this might he the most solidified message since 2015 because I think foster care and the general care system is so important in our society and its nice to use this platform to bring attention to a worthwhile cause. Bonus points I've included a link to the song in this one because it's sung by a semi creepy sad clown man, which is obviously a plus (I like to think he recorded the version in this advert in the full get up). Great, spot on, Christmas miracle (tm) 1001/10

[yetanotheremptypage]

I know you said that the homecoming one might be the last of the high school au, but I think #37 would be adorable! Or whatever floats your boat ❤️ thanks for doing these, they always make my day!

ANON ASKED: Hi if you’re taking prompts, Can we get #37 canon diversion? Thanks 😌💓

no escaping your love #51: masterpiece (a high school au)

This takes place in between "winter formal" and "the guillotine." (Read 1-50 here.)

#37. "Can I kiss you?"

Anthony walked Kate to her car after the formal.

And then he didn’t speak to her again until Monday, the day of their AP Gov final.

(Edwina had promised her that he was probably just busy studying, but Kate wasn’t so sure.)

Of course, then the second the final was over, he’d again walked her to her car, but this time asked her to go on a date with him. Saying yes felt like the worst (but also best?) decision of her life.

Mary and Edwina had both squealed when she told them and insisted on taking her shopping for a new outfit. And honestly, the emerald green sweater dress they’d found on sale was not only soft and beautiful but looked great with her tall black boots. She slipped on a pair of gold hoops with them and she almost looked like someone they would call pretty.

He picked her up exactly on time with a bouquet of tulips, which explained why Benedict had been needling her for her favorite flowers while he was “working on a new landscape.” He promised Mary she’d be home for curfew—midnight, which seemed excessively late considering it was barely 5:30—and then he whisked her off.

Since he’d told her nothing about their plans for the evening, she spent the entire drive pestering him. It seemed to suck all of the awkwardness right out of the evening, her listing out increasingly ridiculous suggestions as he drove them out of Dorchester and towards...Fenway?

“Anthony Bridgerton, please tell me you did not let me get dressed up to simply take me to a Red Sox game,” she said, barely hiding her disgust. In a very poor driving maneuver, he turned to stare fully at her, jaw open comically wide.

“Kate Sheffield-Sharma, please tell me that you do not think the Red Sox are playing in December, a week before Christmas.”

Touché.

He parked them in a garage and led her, by the hand and everything, into a restaurant called Gunter’s. She immediately approved. Classic gastropub vibes, not too expensive, and he ordered mozzarella sticks as an appetizer, an instant way to her heart. She then had to sit through a lecture on the Red Sox, but seeing him get so animated and excited made it all worth it.

Especially when they went down another few blocks and she found herself standing in front of the Museum of Fine Art.

Now her jaw was the one comically wide.

Kate had lived in Boston all of her life, but she’d only been to this museum once when she was a kid on a field trip. Edwina and Mary didn’t care much for art, so when they took family trips to museums, it was usually history museums, or the science museum, and Kate’s dad had loved taking them to the aquarium.

He let her talk non-stop throughout what must’ve been almost the entire museum. She finished one impassioned speech to find him staring at her, his eyes and smile soft.

“What?” she said, trying not to flush.

“Can I kiss you?”

For a moment, she was too stunned to speak. And then she nodded.

It was everything she wanted her first kiss to be.

[miriossunshine]

hi!! could i plz get a regular matchup? my pronouns are she/they and preferably a male student plz :D i’m an infp (although i feel like i fluctuate between infp and enfp a lot HAHAH) and i would consider myself pretty outgoing! i’m kind of shy when i meet people and i have the tendency to just stay tucked away unless i feel comfortable/ feel like we’re clicking. when i click with someone though i go balls to the fucking walls LMFAO. i really love to garden and roller skate and i’d love to be a kindergarten teacher when i get older! i would consider myself a very empathic (and highly sensitive) person, and i think my two most prominent traits are my kindness and my extremely terrible sense of humor!

i’m 5’8 (which makes me kinda insecure cuz i hate my height 😭) and i have have long blonde hair! i’m tan, have blue eyes, and i’m a little “curvier” than most which ads to my insecurity, but i try the best that i can to not let it effect me too much! i also cannot leave the house without false eyelashes on and i truly believe that it’s my fatal flaw.

im also super into ballets, classical music, and horror movies! i swear to god i go harder to classical music than any other type of music HAHAHAHA. i genuinely cannot stand boring or mean spirited people. one of my biggest pet peeves is assholes and dry texters LOLZ. if u don’t respond to each of my texts with a “!!!!!!!!!” ion want u 🙄.

thank u!!!!!

heyyy! of course you can, love! bae i totally feel u on the false lashes, i feel naked without them HDJFKJDAKHS anyway i hope you enjoy your matchup!!! ^_^ 💕💕💕

i ship you with:

𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐚!

right away i knew you guys would be adorable together!!! he loves your energy!!! especially because you can match his, as he’s quite outgoing and excitable!!!! he also loves your soft and shy side, he finds it adorable!

mirio thinks it’s so admirable how you want to be a kindergarten teacher (*´ω｀*)! you and mirio often babysit eri and seeing how kind and gentle you are with her warms his heart so much!!

he loves your sense of humor! comedy is v important to him and he thinks you’re the funniest person he knows!!! \(//∇//)\ you always have him doubling over in laughter and he loves u for that 😭💗

ok mirio probably freaked the f out when you first took ur lashes off in front of him like “OHMYGOD UR RIPPING UR EYELASHES OUT” and you could not stop laughing while he just sat in horror like “?!??!!??” HAHAH but u eventually showed him that your false lashes are indeed false and he basically begged u to put them on him next 😭 he couldn’t stop batting his eyes dramatically at himself in the mirror the whole time HDNDMSNMSBDNS

i gotta b honest… mirio loooooves ur body !!! he’s aLWAYS complimenting you and encouraging you to embrace your height by suggesting you wear heels and platforms as often as possible!! mirio calls you a model all the time >< 💕💕 he’s on the taller side (i think 5’11” is his canon height), and tbh he thinks it’s attractive af if ur shoes make you taller than him !!

the love doesn’t stop there! your curves make him melt!! he hypes you up whenever you wear an outfit that showcases your figure, and has a hand on the dip of your waist the whole day💗💗💗 \(//∇//)\

mirio’s texts are anything but dry! he sounds as excited thru text as he does irl and it’s adorable >^< also he uses so many emoticons it’s criminal. he always texts you updates about his day throughout the day like “just ate a bagel!!!! *gif of a cute puppy*” “i miss you!! *wholesome meme*” “what’re u doing!!! *too many emojis that have nothing to do with the text*” 😭😭

this man gets so pumped when you stand up for yourself he’s literally your personal cheerleader. he loves when you take the lead and don’t let others tell you what to do!

mirio is so easy to give gifts to (〃ω〃) it could be a cup of instant ramen and his eyes would light up like a christmas tree (≧∀≦)

totally holds your hand the entire time while you get your septum pierced, even if you’re not scared of the pain, he’s more scared than you are 😭 but once he sees how cool it looks he gets one of his earlobes pierced!!! u guys match jewelry all the time once ur piercings heal and it’s the cutest thing ever <333

[purplerose244]

Belonging

Here again for the @toa-secret-santa of this year! So happy to participate again, I love these events! 😍😍 Hello @spellcasterdouxie, I’m your secret santa! Merry Christmas and festivities, hope you like my present! ❤

Summary: In which being stuck in New York to protect a magical being and save the world in the process is no excuse for not celebrating Christmas with your friends.

Also on AO3

So… Nari was a terrible liar.

Extremely powerful being, the purest pretty soul, but horrible at lying.

Douxie didn’t have the slightest idea of what she was plotting, granted that she used to be part of an evil congregation of wizards that wanted to take over using an ancient artifact – meh, like that was the weirdest coming from his friends –, but he was fairly sure that her claim regarding the leaking sink of the bathroom was some sort of decoy.

Did that convince him to ignore those big adorable puppy eyes?

“It looks good to me, but I’m gonna give it a double check just in case!”

“Thank you Douxie, much appreciated! Please make sure everything is working, do not overlook a single thing!” Absolutely not. He was a master wizard, not a beast.

Their little apartment was neither pretty nor particularly clean. Which considering the little money he accumulated over the years with all of his jobs back in Arcadia and given the fact that they were in New York City, was kind of a given. But it had a perfectly functional bathroom, basically a gift from above, or some kind of karma retribution from putting up with three different apocalypses in the same summer – and he had all suspicions that another one was coming, but possibly another season. That being said, he wasn’t sure why with her plant like appearance, Nari with all people was so interested into their sink. Besides maybe for spraying a bit of water over her head – one very curious and endearing scene really, like a pot plant watering itself.

Then again, he wasn’t completely sure why he was going along with it instead of asking directly what was this all about. Maybe he liked to study whatever thought somehow as peculiar as her could come up with. Maybe there was nothing else of particular interest to do while waiting for his mac and cheese to be ready… maybe that little nightmare of his from last night got him a little too down, and doing anything but think about it was a better solution than most. And it was a pretty annoying maybe, because dreams about his master were as common as breathing lately.

He thought he was over it. It was probably too soon… hopefully he was at least getting closer to the not too soon part of it.

One long silence followed, from which he was fairly sure he had heard a few whispers a little lower than Nari’s light tone. Great, what now? Was she actually plotting something?

“Is everything okay over there? Arch? Nari?”

“Fine, everything is fine! Keep checking please!”

“Are you serious?” Okay now it was ridiculous. “Nope, I’m getting over there, and you two better not be up to no good!” They were a surprisingly compatible pair, especially since his familiar had made it his mission to teach her the marvel of pranks – she wasn’t even malicious about it, that made it all even more devious somehow. Douxie left the wrench on the ground, getting out of the bathroom and towards the living room. “You all keep forgetting that I’m the master wizards here, so technically I’m in charge, so if you’re scheming something- Whoa, Mordrax’s miracles!”

The last thing he had expected, after leaving their lonely living room that was made of four faded walls with a random kitchen connected to it, was to get back to it completely transformed into a messy, happy Christmas themed little chamber.

Filled with very familiar faces.

“Merry Christmas, Teach!” Claire almost knocked him off his feet with that hug. She looked radiant, all wrapped up in one big purple sweater with ‘Feeling Wicked Sassy’ written on it – appropriate. Behind her Steve, Toby and Archie were all smiling.

“Sorry, you would not leave the house,” Nari looked all cozy and a little guilty in that big mint green sweater – with ‘Every Day is Green Day’ written on it, where did she get that? –, waving at him. “And it felt like claiming we were being attacked by Skrael and Bellroc was a bit excessive.” Thank goodness his roommate and protegee had some common sense – considering his latest adventure, more than him for sure.

Claire giggled, shrugging innocently.

“We honestly hoped you were that bad of a plumber and would give us more time…”

Douxie snickered, because this was ridiculously endearing and he loved it all already.

“Too bad I’m not completely hopeless.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” Steve, it was Steve, not even worth turning around to recognize him. But a random fist bump, that much he could concede – especially with that massive blue sweater ‘Silent Knight, Holey Knight’ he had on, like really what was even that. “Ready to have the best time of your life?”

The master wizard arched an eyebrow.

“Said from you? Should we call the firefighter in advance? Or the police?” The blonde pouted very dramatically, Claire snickered. He had really missed these two. “Wow, this place looks amazing! The landlord can’t see this or she will force me to pay more for the rent.” His wallet was already gasping enough for breath and money. “All this stuff, all the decorations… is this beef?” Ah, that was why it all felt like such a sudden change, this paradisiac scent had definitely not been here before. “It smells delicious!”

“Thank you!” Second shock of the day, but Douxie could hardly blame himself considering the most time he had spent around Jim had been during his huge troll moments – he kinda looked like a twig now in comparison. “I’m pretty well known for my festive feasts.”

“Also known as festeasts!” Toby showed one enthusiastic victory sign, pulling off his orange ‘Rockin’ This Christmas’ with plenty of little gems and stones all around – the forever geologist.

Jim rolled his eyes with a grin.

“Tobes we’re not calling them that.” The Warhammer holder frowned, only to beam when he got handed a spoon for a taste. “I made most of this from home so it’s all ready and warm, but I wanted to make something on the place while I was at it. Freshly made food tastes way better on Christmas.” Toby hummed around the spoon, smacking his lips, then he rubbed his fingers together towards the chef, who caught it as to add more salt.

Douxie couldn’t help but scoot closer, peaking inside. That looked like food. That looked like real, delicious, extremely well-made food.

“What in the world, how did you make that?” Jim snorted.

“You moved on without much of a comment from me turning into a half-troll, a full troll and then back to a human, and this surprises you?”

“My friend, there were Thai leftovers, one instant ramen, an onion and an egg left in the fridge so yes, this surprises me!” All speculations died when he was offered a taste too. “… so it turns out I know nothing of magic. I must bow to the real master wizard here.” If happiness had a flavor it had to be this one. The former trollhunter snickered, giving him a little elbow before going back over his creations. And if the most classic ‘kiss the chef’ apron on him wasn’t already extremely fitting, the cyan sweater underneath reciting ‘I’m In The…’ on the back barely left to the imagination what list was written on the front.

A very well-deserved sign, really.

“Buttsnack’s managed to make these too, take a look!” Steve waved at the little counter that was the only thing remotely looking like a table in this place. And smelling just as heavenly as everything else, there they were, mince pies, just like the ones from Camelot. “But I don’t know if they’re as good because someone slaps my hand every time I- OUCH!! I didn’t even try this time!”

Archie’s tail could be surprisingly useful as a whip, in fact.

“You were thinking about it! So don’t, these are for later.” And wow, if his most loyal companion wasn’t absolutely adorable wearing that little red sweater – ‘Santa Paws’, he was going to complain about it all day long. Douxie wished he hadn’t left his phone in the bathroom. “We’re still waiting for the tree, the last decorations and the music. But we’re almost ready.” So apparently his familiar had been behind all of this. That actually made perfect sense.

Of course this little wizard associate had known this was going to do him good. It was the kind of bond that came with being around each other for over 900 years.

Archie smiled at him, and Douxie couldn’t not grin in return.

“Can’t wait for them! Even thought I did have some when we had that travel… well technically ages ago, we were actually in Camelot, but it wasn’t- Ah forget it, time loops are too confusing.” There was a consensual groan including all of them but Toby and Nari, who just looked at each other and shrugged. “Well, this is awesome, how did you even get everything here so fast?” On second thought, that was more than just bizarre. His eyes crossed Claire’s right away. “You get so tired with transportations through the Shadow Realm usually, and you got to bring along all of these people and decorations?” The thing was, this wasn’t supposed to be possible. Another thing was, Lady Claire of house Nunez was so insanely talented it would had not surprised him.

The girl waved her hand in denial.

“I wish I was at that level, but no. Still, we did travel back and forth pretty quickly.”

“Without magic? How?”

“I should take offense from that highly questioning tone.” Third shock, his poor heart – he came back from the grave once, and he really didn’t recommend it. He was fairly sure the apartment he had rented didn’t include interdimensional portals opening in the middle of the living room. “And from the fact that you humans keep forgetting I invented a perfectly functioning wormhole generator. But please, continue with your predicaments, ignore the scientific feat I’ve accomplished!” For an alien that barely understood human sarcasm, Krel Tarron was made a whole half of it.

As he walked in from the portal, holding one edge of a box filled with Christmas balls, on the other side Zoe stepped in carrying along the rest. And between a black ‘I’m Back, Witches’ sweater and a gray ‘DJ Kleb’ one with four sleeves, it was one curious and fantastic view.

“Yeah yeah, you bent the rules of physics, congratulations!” Zoe’s tense tone implied that she must had heard that complain already. “Stop talking and get working, I’m going the extra mile here!”

“This doesn’t sound like a good time to have a walk.”

“For the love of…!” The pink haired girl let out a muffled scream, let go of her edge of the box – lucky for Krel to have four arms to catch it – and jumped over the master wizard to grab his shoulders. “I hate you so much, you left me alone dealing with all of these new knuckleheads! Like the local dummies weren’t enough!” The collective offended ‘Hey!’ coming from both the Akiridion and the village’s idiot – a marvel that Steve actually responded, fully aware of his status as knucklehead – was somehow even more endearing than funny.

Meanwhile Zoe was still wrinkling his favorite jacket, frowning aggressively at him like the fact that he was out there saving the world was unforgivable – you could say anything about this pink head, but not that she didn’t have priorities.

Douxie snickered, easing the hold onto him.

“Sorry for trying to give my friends a place to live in this crazy wild world, then!”

“… apologies accepted.” Zoe narrowed her eyes. “But only if we finally hunt for niffins and get those forsaken burgers after you did the deed. I’m calling dibs on you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Besides, you owe me. I didn’t snitch and told that Hex Tech got annihilated and we’re in need of new personnel because someone needed to hide from the big bad villains.” Those blue gems were screaming not to mess this offer up, because it was certainly not going to come back.

Even with a pressure like that, in some way inside of him, Douxie felt freed of a little weight. Despite the distance and everything that had happened, some things stayed the same. So he quite happily held up his fist, smirking at the girl.

“Alright, as soon as this is over with. Deal.” Zoe glared at him a few more seconds. Then she nodded, and finally bumped their knuckles together.

With a thud Krel finally put the box down, sighing soundly.

“Thanks Seklos this is done. I believe we are only missing the dead tree that will be then covered in artificial garnishments as a form of apparent belittlement of nature.” He stayed still for a few seconds, mindlessly throwing a little sphere on the ground that divided in four pieces, generating a portal. “… I feel like I’m getting so accustomed with humans’ savageness that I’m even quite looking forwards to it. Especially for that useless invention called ‘tree’.” He snickered, getting inside the wormhole that disappeared as soon as he was in.

Luckily the impossible dimensional gateway appeared of not leaving any trace behind. And luckily the creature – or elf, demigod, Nari was still a bit of a mystery – most connected to the nature that had just been denigrated was way more interested in whatever chef wiz Jim Lake Jr. was preparing.

“You knubhead, I just told you not to!” Archie’s spiteful voice came along, as apparently Steve had managed to take advantage of the situation – a scientific miracle happening in front of them, fair enough – to finally get himself a mince piece. Only to get slapped to the ground.  “That’s it, until these cool down you’re getting nowhere near! Douxie, out with me, we need to guard the treasure!” That was some attachment for one tray of soft and delicious little pastries.

Douxie shrugged and complied, picking up the meal under the jock’s renovated pout and heading to the balcony. The chilling air got to his nose right away, but he endured, appreciating just the tiniest breath. There was barely space for once person there.

Well, one person and his familiar. He placed the tray on the railing, making sure it didn’t fall.

“How did Jim even get the recipe?” Archie grinned.

“Well, apparently his troll friends did remember a certain meal very appreciated by humans from back then, but they have their own idea on how to make it. I don’t know the details, but I certainly know it involves socks. Plenty of socks.”

“… you want to see Steve’s reaction to them later.”

“I want to see Steve’s reaction to them later with all the others. Christmas is supposed to be a family festivity, right?” His grin disappeared right after. “So… it didn’t sound like you were sleeping too well last night.” Yep. He knew. Of course he knew. He would had even if he didn’t have to habit of sneaking into his bed to get warm. “Something you’d like to talk about?”

Douxie breathed out, gently buffing his fluffy ear.

“I’m fine Arch, not need to get all sensible on me. It was one of the usuals.” He tried a weak smile, not really feeling like keeping everything in. Not with so many people inside, on this particular day. “… you know, thinking it now, somehow it was easier celebrating Christmas on the streets back in Camelot. Getting something good to eat, have fun, that was enough. Considering how tense was everyone in the Pendragon castle it’s not much of a surprise, but still… I wonder if Merlin ever had a proper Christmas in there.” He sighed. “He certainly didn’t while I was around.” The noisy streets of Camelot overlapped NYC’s busy ones. He swallowed a lump into his throat.

That legendary town was such a faraway place right now, coming back from a single memory was a slap from reality. Douxie shivered, taking in a freezing breath, gasping when Archie jumped over his shoulder and curled all around his neck. His fur was nice and warm.

“We have no way of knowing. But one thing’s for sure, that old man got a surprising, unexpected present in any case.” Archie smiled, eyeing him softly. “One very sneaky, very foolish, very brave apprentice.” They had been there, the both of them. And in any possible way, in the good, the bad, and the best, he had found a life to call that way. The one Merlin had asked him about.

The master wizard smiled, snuggling his cheek against his loyal friend.

It didn’t take long, the winter air acted like a freezer over the little pies. But as they went back in, the place had already changed – and that was besides AAARRRGGHH!!, with one gigantic hat on his head, holding up the tree while Blinky, wearing a scarf, was reading a manual on how to decorate it, where did he even get that? –: there was a table, appeared again out of nowhere, with all the most delicious looking dishes placed all over between branches of holly and little bells. Jim and Nari were putting down the last dishes, Steve was clumsily getting the statue of a reindeer to balance over the tv, Toby was checking the lights to make sure they were functioning.

And Claire was suddenly in front of him, beaming, clearly hiding something from behind her back. It immediately grabbed everybody’s attention, like it was some sort of event.

Was it?

“We’ve organized the present exchange for after lunch, but this one you need to put it on now. So, her it is!” She uncovered the secret and- Oh. It was a sweater. It was a sweater. For him. “There you go, you’re officially part of the wool club, a Christmas-limited association only.”

“Founder of the association Nancy Domzalski, mostly because it was Nana who made them all!” Toby caressed the front of his sweater, smiling softly. “She’s that kind of grandma that thinks that everything that’s made with love can bring warmth, and I’m kind of a believer too.” He shrugged, crossing his fingers behind the back of his head. “I know this isn’t your cool punk rock wizardy style, but Nana had her midlife crisis in her own time and I’m not exactly looking forward to one before my very own eyes!” That was probably not a sight a grandchild wanted of their grandma, that was understandable.

It was. It was, right? It was getting a little hard to focus on something, anything that wasn’t a soft bundle of black and navy blue stripes, welcoming and warm, with ‘Fuzzbuckets’ written on it. It was getting weird. A little unsettling even, because he just got out in the cold but his bones weren’t freezing anymore and he felt all fuzzy inside and now his eyes were warm and-

“… oh, curse me, not the waterfalls…!” Centuries spent transitioning from hopeless bard to punk rock guitarist, only to tear up at a random surprise Christmas party.

From there, he didn’t understand much. Only Claire’s probable ‘Aww Douxie!’, Toby’s sudden ‘There’s no Christmas without the sad moment’, Steve’s surprising ‘I know what to do, come on everybody, let’s all hug it out!’. And all of the sudden he was enveloped with so many arms, so many different people he had gotten to know and had managed to befriend and appreciate. That were part of his world, his life, and what was coming for the future.

So when he managed to open his eyes, there was so much to uncover, between a pink head, a scarred eyebrow, a lock of leaves and a paw still so close to his cheek. And it hit him that perhaps there was a reason why Camelot had always felt so far away lately.

That age was over. But this, it felt like it had only begun. Douxie smiled, closing his eyes again.

Embracing how good it felt to belong again.

[sleepykittypaws]

Ted Lasso: Carol of the Bells

Original Air Date: August 13, 2021 (Apple TV+) Where to Watch?: It’s an Apple TV+ original series, so should be available on the streaming service in perpetuity

Ted Lasso, the series, is one of the brightest entertainment lights to come along in a relatively dark time. Premiering mid-pandemic, the show, based on a series of not-all-that-well-known NBC soccer coverage promos, stars Jason Sudeikis as an American college football coach hired to coach British Premier League soccer (I, of course, mean, football) team, AFC Richmond.

The show, which has become something of a phenomena as it enters its second season with a record 20 Emmy nominations, has been hailed for its niceness and general likability. It's funny, sharp and, yes, sweet, without being saccharine. Bad stuff happens on, and to, Ted Lasso, just like in real life, but the characters don't let the worst parts of their lives define them.

Ted Lasso’s trick is that it manages to be both grounded and an escape from reality, into a world that's a little bit kinder and more gentle than the one we all actually live in, in 2020 and 2021.

So, there's probably no better program to offer up a Christmas special, even in August, despite the fact that I'm usually a stickler about keeping holiday content special by confining it to the season. I mean, sure I start "the season" no later than November 1, but, still, I do enjoy waiting to savor my Christmas TV, so it takes something pretty special to get me in the spirit mid-summer.

“Carol of the Bells,” the fourth episode of Ted Lasso’s second season, takes place, like most UK series Christmas specials, both within and somewhat outside the timeline of the rest of the series, and could easily be watched, and enjoyed, as a stand alone. There is barely a passing mentioning of what felt like a cliffhanger ending to episode three, when the team protested their top sponsor, Dubai Air, in solidarity with Nigerian player Sam Obisanya. But in “Carol of the Bells,” the timeline of the show has jumped ahead significantly, putting behind us the team's streak of draw matches, which had been another  main focus of the season to date, via one line of exposition and a pan to a whiteboard in Coach Lasso's office. 

One of the things I love about this show is that they aren't afraid to resolve a plot line mid-season. No need to draw it out for drama, or to have beloved characters backtrack, constantly recreating the same situations. I think the moment I really feel in love with Ted Lasso is when the owner-seeks-to-destroy-team-as-revenge-on-her-ex plot that launched the series was resolved, not via a dramatic reveal, but a quiet office conversation with team owner Rebecca asking, and receiving, forgiveness, from Ted, who understood her instinct to lash out, and refused to hold those worst impulses against her, knowing he had his own not-quite-pure reasons for accepting the job in the first place. 

For me, that moment was when Ted Lasso went from amusing, to awesome. So, it's no surprise that the Ted-Rebecca relationship continues to bloom at Christmas, where Hannah Waddington's character absolutely sees through Ted's all-good exterior, knowing just how lonely the first Christmas post-divorce can be.

When we saw Ted drinking, alone in his apartment, and watching It's a Wonderful Life, I feared we might be in for one of those dream Christmas movie redux's with Ted learning how important his existence really is, but of course I should have known better. A huge part of Ted Lasso's charm is that show usually zigs, when viewers expect it to zag: Not giving the team the tie to keep them from being relegated, the undramatic reveal of Rebecca's evil plan to Ted, Keeley and Roy's rock solid relationship.

Instead, the show continues to demonstrate it really does have the best of intentions with Rebecca and Ted going on a Christmas Day giving spree, that feels both absolutely perfect for the pair, and helps support the very real Poverty Alleviation Charities.

Meanwhile, Roy and Keeley's Sexy Christmas is interrupted by the last minute arrival of Roy's adorable niece, Phoebe, who has received a not-very-nice gift from a boy in her class. Roy and Keeley's banter is on full display as they attempt to both revenge and reconcile the source of Phoebe's distress.

Brett Goldstein, who plays Roy and is also a writer on the show, steals almost every scene he's in, even at Christmas, and the onscreen chemistry he has with Juno Temple's Keeley is off the charts. That child actor Elodie Blomfield more than holds her own with these two is a real testament to her own, budding abilities.

The ending of Roy, Keeley and Phoebe's Christmas adventure—teased early on with the reveal of the teasing boy's name as Bernard (and if you don't get that reference Google "Richard Curtis-Bernard Jenkin") is so perfect, I absolutely did tear up. 

Oh and, shout out to guest star Claire Skinner, who knows a thing or two about classic UK Christmas specials with her own from her days on Outnumbered, another of my UK faves. Gutted we didn't get to see Dr. Rogers' husband, who I kept hoping would be Skinner's real-life partner, and Outnumbered co-parent, Hugh Dennis. Really, Dennis' lack was the only real mis-step in this entire episode for me.

Meanwhile, Higgins, played so well by Jeremy Swift (the casting in Ted Lasso is across-the-board perfection), is hosting his annual Christmas open house for Richmond team members without family in town, expecting the usual one or two players to pop in. Instead, with Swift's real-life wife Mary Roscoe at his side, almost the entire team turns up ready to celebrate with the Higgins clan. 

It's only at the very end that “Carol of Bells” goes traditional Christmas special, putting most of its main characters outside Casa Higgins for an episode-ending musical number that, I'm just gonna admit, while cheesy as heck, brought even more tears to my eyes, despite it still being August, and would have made me a blubbering mess in December—when I will definitely be watching this again.

From the opening scene reveal of the team's Secret Santa exchange, to the closing moments that put Waddington back on the mic, which fans have been demanding since her karaoke outing in season one, for an extra dose of Christmas cheer, “Carol of the Bells,” was, to me, perfect. 

I'm not exactly sure why Apple TV+ didn't save this for a one-off November or December drop but, as I said on Twitter, it's very possible, maybe even likely, that I saw my favorite Christmas content of 2021 on August 13th. Ted Lasso: Carol of the Bells is going to be very, very hard to top.

Final Judgement: 4 Paws Enthusiastically Up for this instant Christmas classic