#pre-christmas

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Last Minute Customer

Summary; Beau Arlen x Reader -> When you’re closing up the store for the evening, you have one final customer. 

Warning; Pure fluffy fluff, books, bookstore and snow. 

Snow had been constantly falling for the last 6 weeks. At first, it was light and melted almost as fast as it had come. But now it was 3ft high and sent everyone into a tizzy over being able to walk.

Why you hadn't moved out of Montana by now, you didn't know. You could have gone anywhere. California, maybe? New York? Perhaps Seattle.

But no. You had decided to stay in Montana, open up a small bookstore in Helena and stick with the snowy winters.

Yet, it was all worth it.

You had been stood behind the counter, having shut early due to the weather. You had been counting your stock making sure you had enough of the popular books in stock in time for the mad-christmas dash.

That was when a knock came to the door.

"Hello?"

Rushing over, you quickly unlocked the door and let the stranger inside. He was covered in snow, his fingertips were turning red and his cheeks were flushed.

"Are you okay? What are you doing out in weather like this?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He smiled. "Sorry if I scared you."

"It's okay. Are you here to buy some books?"

He nodded, dusting off the snow with your help. Only now did you notice his shape. He was broad and tall. 

"Actually, I am." He smiled. "Sorry, I should have introduced myself. Beau Arlen."

That's why he looked so familiar.

You had seen him around town every now and then, mostly making his way in and out of the coffee shop across the way, Dewell and Hoyt and some of the local stores.

"Y/N Y/L/N." you smiled back. "So, what exactly is it that you're looking for?"

"I don't know."

Your eyebrows knitted together for a moment before he pulled a piece of paper from the back of his jeans and handed it over to you.

"My daughter...she wrote me a list."

You took the list from his hands and opened it up. There was some good titles on it.

Emma, by Jane Austen.

A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens.

Sherlock Holmes, Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, Dr Suess, Chronicles of Narnia.

"I think we have some of these in stock. I'll check in the back for the others."

"Thank you."

"I've still got the fire going if you want to warm yourself up." You offered, pointing over towards the two leather sofa's that sat paralle to one another beside the fire.

"Is it safe to have a fire in a bookstore?"

"The fireplace has been there since the place was first built. I only put it on in desperate conditions." You turned back with a small smile before disappearing into the back of the store to look for some of the less commonly stocked books.

Pretty much most of them you managed to find on the shelves, Beau helping.

"Whoa." You said aloud as the rolling stairs went a little further than anticipated.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You want me to hold it still?"

You nodded. "If you don't mind."

You managed to reach the top of the bookshelves for the extra boxes, finally finding the last copy of A Christmas Carol.

"I'm usually banned from using this ladder." You told Beau. "Last time I was on it, I slipped from the fourth step and twisted my ankle."

Slowly, you climbed back down. Only, once you made it to the half way mark, you felt Beau's hands hold onto the back of your legs. They hovered just far enough from your skin to help you down but be close enough to catch you if you fell.

And it was a good job because just before you hit the bottom, your foot missed the step, sending you sliding down.

Thankfully, Beau took your waist into his hands and helped you safely to your feet.

"Thanks."

Beau smiled down, letting go of you once he knew you were okay. "You should probably get some safer ladders."

You smiled. "That's not the first time someone has told me that."

Beau gave you another smile and you found your words faltering in your mouth.

"Um," you stepped back and handed over the book. "Here you are. Is that everything? Not got another list in your back pocket, have you?"

Beau looked down with a soft chuckle. "No, not this time."

You rung up his order, asking if he'd like for them to be gift wrapped. "No, that's okay. Em's having me wrap them with her at home. She says I need the practice."

"It can't be that bad, surely."

Beau smiled and leaned onto the counter. "Whatever you're imagining, it's worse than that."

"Well, nothing can be worse than my parent's wrapping." You told him. "One year they just handed me a gift in a plastic bag with an upside down bow."

"What was it?"

"The gift? A vintage camera and record player." You smiled. "There up over there."

You pointed over towards the large wooden unit beside the fireplace.

"Did you take these photos?" Beau asked, looking to the postcards beside the register.

You smiled shyly. "I got bored one day and decided to go for a walk. There is a beautiful place by this canyon. There's a lake that runs just below it."

Beau studied the photo a little better. It seemed very familiar.

"Do you fish?"

"Sorry?"

You smiled, continuing to bag up the books. "I asked, do you fish? It's a good fishing spot if you ever wanted to try."

Beau clicked his fingers. "That's why I recognise it."

"Have you ever been on the hiking trail above it?" You asked.

"No, I- Uh...I haven't had the chance."

"Maybe, if you'd like, I could show you?"

Beau looked up and for a moment, he didn't know what you were asking. But the moment he did, he smiled, bowed his head to try and hide the texan blush on his cheeks, and nodded.

Finally he looked back up; "I'd like that."

"It might be a bit cold, but it's beautiful in the snow."

Beau smiled. "I'm sure it is."

"How about Saturday? If there's no big snow blizzard."

Beau nodded, paying his cash and picking up the bag of books from the counter. "Saturday it is."

Turning back around towards the door, Beau looked out to the snow.

"How long have you got left on your shift?"

You looked up to him, taping some boxes up. "Not long. Maybe about 10 minutes? Why?"

"Would you...would you like me to drive you home? With this snow and everything...I mean...what kind of Sheriff would I be if I let a citizen nearly die because of frost bite?"

You gave him a light smile and nodded. "That would be nice. Thank you."

Eventually, you closed the shop and followed him to his car. “So? How long have you been in Montana?”

“All my life,” you answered. “Mostly. I mean, I left to go to College but...I came back.”

“And the bookstore?”

You smiled as you explained the story to him on the way to your home. “It was something I always wanted to do. As a kid I had a vision board for my life - yes, I was that kid.” Beau smiled. “Anyway, I used to dream of owning my own bookstore and seeing kids like me find that place where they can go and just...be them. Pick up a book and...find another world. What about you? What made you want to be a Sheriff?”

“My dad,” Beau began. “We use to watch all these old westerns and he used to tell me all these cool stories of what he had done that day at work. About the people he helped.”

“He was your hero?”

Beau nodded and smiled. “Yeah.”

Finally, Beau pulled up outside of your home and you unbuckled your seat-belt. “I guess I’ll see you on Saturday?”

“I guess you will.” Beau smiled. 

He waited until you unlocked your door and walked inside before he pulled away. 

Maybe it was a good thing you stayed in Montana after all. 

[threeinchthunderthimble]

It's honestly kind of a wonder Kate McCallister didn't leave Kevin in a hot car as a baby.

[newyorkthegoldenage]

A Santa Claus on wheels appears in front of a department store on December 6, 1938. Santa holds signs urging the boycott of German-made toys.

Photo: Associated Press

[penny00dreadful]

STWG Prompt: Missed Mistletoe

“Oh, Robbie!” Steve sing-songed out in a tone of voice that told Eddie he was up to no good.

Robin didn’t seem to notice, just giving a questioning hum in response, her head still stuck in Steve’s tv cabinet, looking for something to watch.

“Looks like you missed something.” Steve continued to sing, slowly approaching her from around the coffee table.

“What-?” Robin poked her head out, looking confusedly in Steve’s direction who had turned on the innocent big puppy dog eyes, twirling a sprig of mistletoe that he’d plucked from somewhere.

“No, Steve. Absolutely not.” She said, backing away as he continued to approach. “You keep those boy cooties away from me!”

“You gotta pay the toll, Birdie.” He shook it at her again as he approached.

Robin turned her eyes towards her girlfriend and Eddie, perched the couch, painting their nails.

Chrissy shrugged at her. “You gotta pay the toll, baby.”

Eddie didn’t respond, just sulked down at the polish.

He didn’t get told to pay the toll. 

He’d have loved to be told to pay the toll.

A high pitched squeal made him look up and he was treated to the sight of Steve chasing Robin around the room. Though she was shouting at him to stay away, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face and he knew Steve wouldn’t be pushing it if Robin was actually uncomfortable. 

She made a sudden break for the stairs and while Eddie could hear them scrambling up, Chrissy nudged him in the ribs.

“Stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting. I don’t pout. If anything I’m brooding.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “Okay, stop brooding then.”

“How can I? She’s stealing all my kisses.”

“He probably doesn’t know you even want to kiss him.”

“Have I not made it obvious enough?”

“Have you said it to him, using your big boy words? Or have you just stared at him wistfully from across the room, hoping he would get the message.”

Eddie glared at her, scowling at the nail polish bottles before muttering “The second one.”

“Exactly.” Chrissy gave him a condescending pat on the head. “Maybe try a new strategy.”

“Chris!” Robin screamed from the landing, throwing the sprig of mistletoe she’d somehow managed to wrench from Steve’s grasp through the air towards them.

It was way too wide of a throw but Chrissy wasn’t cheer team captain for nothing, stretching over the coffee table as it skidded along the wood to catch it before it disappeared over the ledge.

She sat back with a little fist bump to herself, bringing the sprig close to her cheek before Steve materialised next to her, snatching it back and smacking a sloppy kiss against that same cheek and taking off again to the sound of Robin’s outraged screams.

Eddie crossed his arms and turned what he hoped was a heartbroken expression on Chrissy.

“Now you’re stealing my kisses? You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“I am your best friend, and as your best friend I’m telling you you need to make it more obvious and not just hope he gets it.”

Eddie huffed, turning his eyes around the room before his gaze landed on the bundle of mistletoe tied over the front door.

With a new plan in mind he pushed himself up to standing and dragged one of the sturdier looking end tables over the floor until it was sitting just underneath his prize.

“Ed, what the hell are you doing?” Chrissy asked, watching him like he was a cat trying to climb into a Christmas tree.

Eddie clambered up until he was nearly eye level with the greenery. Jesus, Steve’s doorways we’re tall. The end table was a little wobbly but it was fine. He was pretty sure it was solid wood and it would probably take a train running over it to break it.

“Making it more obvious.” He muttered, tongue between his teeth as he tried to untie it from the small nail it had been attached to.

“Oh my god, Eddie-” she muttered to herself, drowned out by the unmistakable sounds of Steve finally capturing Robin up and pressing wet sloppy kisses to her cheeks while she weakly shrieked about boy cooties in between her giggles.

Eddie nearly had it, he just needed to change the angle a little bit and-

He stepped back a little too far and felt his stomach fly out of his throat with that sickening feeling of stepping through nothing, like missing a step on the stairs.

There was a great big clatter as the table teetered out from underneath him and then he was falling.

He felt the impact the whole way up his back as he landed hard on his ass, momentarily breathless and shocked as Chrissy screamed out for him.

The back of his head throbbed. He’d probably hit it against the door on his way down and he rubbed it gingerly with a grimace as he sat up properly, feeling the tenderness right at the base of his spine.

“Eddie?!” Steve’s panicked voice reached him and he blinked his eyes open to see the man himself skidding to a stop next to him and crouching down, his eyes worried.

“‘M fine.”

Well.

So much for that plan.

He tried to wave them away but winced again when he moved his head.

“Can you girls get me one of the ice packs from the freezer?” Steve asked.

Robin and Chrissy nodded to him, their eyes worried before turning and rushing out towards the kitchen.

Steve turned his furrowed brow back towards him. “Any nausea, double vision?” 

“I’m not concussed, Stevie, don’t worry. Just a little bruised.”

“What on earth were you doing?”

Eddie looked up at Steve hovering over him, his great big concerned eyes and his pink pouting mouth. He felt his own eyes slide from Steve’s face up towards the mistletoe which was gently rocking side to side, still above the door.

Steve followed his gaze up and huffed out a little laugh.

“Y’know,” he said, his cheeks a little pink. “I had a plan for that, if you’d only waited a few hours.”

“You… what?”

“I was gonna use that to kiss you before you left.” Steve pointed up, grinning down at him while Eddie could do nothing but blink.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Eddie was forced to close his eyes at his own mortification, letting his head fall back against the door, ignoring the pain that came along with it.

Something lightly bumped him on the head and bounced into his lap. 

When he opened his eyes, he looked down to find that same sprig of mistletoe he’d tried to untie had fallen down, hitting him on the forehead as it made its journey directly towards his fucking dick, because the universe was funny like that.

He chanced a glance up at Steve who was also staring down at it, his cheeks getting even redder.

Eddie swallowed down his nerves before asking “Pay the toll?”

Steve snapped his eyes up and grinned leaning forward and Eddie thought for one horrifying moment that Steve was gonna do it. That it was going to happen in front of his obscenely big front door and out in the open where the girls could walk back in at any second.

But Steve just gripped Eddie by the chin and leant forward, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

Oh.

Yeah, that was just as good.

But based on the look on Steve's face, he didn't think it would be too long before he could claim the toll fully paid.

[agnes-draws]

damn these tall buff men with big hazel eyes who make us do things we don’t want to do 🙄

[uolivegb]

hey does anybody else like to think about how both timmy and poof/peri have canonical birthdays including the year because i do

[a-little-bit-pre-raphaelite]

Pre-Raphaelite Dove Advent Calendar 24

The Return of the Dove to the Ark, 1851, John Everett Millais

[stuckinapril]

I basically cry every other month at a convenience store of some kind and then I’m relatively fine again

[lionofchaeronea]

The Star of Bethlehem, Edward Burne-Jones, between 1885 and 1890

[jimmyspades]

DREAM LOVER (1993)

[chooh2]

The first thing V's getting for Christmas is a new pair of optics

The second is a license revocation

Happy Holidays from my two favorite goobers, to YOU~!

[genderqueerblog]

genderqueer culture is finding pronouns that you like and feel good with but then doubt if you can actually use them for yourself or if they're assigned for other people

June 18, 2024.

[minzbins]

for @bangzchan ♡

[scourge-sympathiser]

SCOURGE SUNDAY 014/???

away from computer

[tygerland]

Aubrey Beardsley A Large Christmas Card. From The Savoy No. 1 - January 1896.

[steevbuckk]

FAVORITE STUCKY FICS | 60/100

Paper Tree by Ellessey

[Pre-War + Christmas fic, 21 391 words, Explicit]

Summary:

Bucky just laughs and shoves another bite of egg in his mouth, giving Steve a shrug and a full-cheeked smile. He's so damn cute Steve wants to shout at him, but he can't seem to say any of the right things. "Shoulda got you a comb for Christmas," is what he comes up with instead.

"What did you get me?"

It's Steve's turn to shrug now, and if he looks more terrified than cheeky as he does so, he can only hope Bucky doesn't catch it before Steve hurries out the door.

--

On December first, Steve wraps up a letter for Bucky and sets it under their Christmas tree. Now he has twenty-four days left to figure out how to tell Bucky what he wrote, face to face.

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