#snow white and belle are nice too though c:

[rosylamb]

💕🥳 Happy Birthday To My Favorite Disney Princess 🥳💕

Kind anon ~ !!! ♡ .˳·˖ 🧁

And a very happy Rosy hug for you . . this was *so* sweet !!

I’m a Disney Princess ?? Well then you’re my treasure hehe c:

Thank you so much !! ♡ ♡

I’d honestly love to be one! I think my dress would look the dress Belle wears, but pink ?? Or maybe a Cinderella style, but with Belle’s pretty hairstyle ??

No wait — the winter outfit with the pink dress Belle wears might actually be my favorite :D

(Confession: I actually don’t like Aurora’s princess dress that much, and like her peasant dress better ;-; I’m not sure why I just think it’s really nice !?)

Okay! Here’s some of my pink princess cake, and lots and *lots* of love and happiness for you in return! Please take care, and have the sweetest day, my friend ~ !! XOXO

. ˚  *   .  ʚ 🤍 ɞ

♡ ･ ｡ ⊹ 👑

⊹ 🤍 * ♡ 🎀 ･｡ ⊹ 🤍

[emmadoodle]

New Found Family

A/N: Once again thank you @fluffallamaful for allowing me to write this prompt. I saw it and new I HAD to write it and now here it is! Also just a heads up, surprisingly even though I wrote this, I am not at all a c!dream apologist LMAO! This fic is canon divergent, and comes from a universe where Dream didn’t do as many terrible and inexcusable things and was merely mistreated aklsdjaksj. ANywaysss, with that out of the way I hope you enjoy!!! 

Summary: After being rescued from prison, Dream must get used to living among his new family. During this strange time, Dream witnesses his first tickle fight, and Phil decides to step in and show him the ropes. Lee!Dream, Ler!Phil, and background Switch!Wilbur+Techno

Word Count: 2.3k

-----------------

The day of his escape, although exciting, was one that Dream couldn’t even remember by the next day. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the adrenaline or just the fact that it was fast paced and rather terrifying, but by the time Dream had calmed down enough to sleep, when he awoke the memories were a blur. 

When he slowly gained consciousness, he thought it was strange that he didn’t feel the hardness of obsidian underneath him, and the burning temperature of a wall of lava nearby. He was actually comfortable, wrapped in a soft fabric that felt like a comforting hug, and the material he was laying on felt like clouds. When he forced his eyes to open, he was only lying in a bed. It had been so long, he had forgotten just how nice it felt to lay down on an actual mattress.

He sat up and winced, his aching body was one of the things that didn’t go away after leaving his cell. However he did notice that many of his injuries, both the burns from lava and the scars from his time with Quackity had been wrapped in bandages. He had been removed from his prison uniform as well, and now had on a tattered white t-shirt and shorts. Dream stretched and groaned at the dull ache in his head.

“Ah, look who’s up. Morning sleepy head,” Dream whipped his head to see Phil had walked into the room where he was resting. He assumed it was some sort of guest room since it was small. The only piece of furniture was the bed he was sitting on. “You’ve been asleep for maybe over 24 hours mate. You must have been absolutely exhausted.” Phil sounded rather amused, yet there was a hint of concern laced underneath his tone as well. 

“Where am I?” Was all Dream could think of to say. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he was actually free. It felt wrong, like this wasn’t even meant to be real.

“We’re a bit far from the main part of the server if that’s what you’re worried about,” Phil reassured, “We’re in a snow biome. The only people near here are me, Techno, Wilbur, and Ranboo who lives across the way.

There were a couple names there that made Dream a bit nervous, but he didn’t really have the energy to dwell on anything. 

“Would you like to move into the living room? I’m sure after sleeping for that long it may be good for you to get moving and maybe eat something.” The idea of eatingfood other than raw potatoes made Dream’s mouth water, and he was on his feet in no time. 

“Reuniting with Techno again since the two of them were “roommates” was nice, and while Wilbur seemed a bit eccentric and a little too excited to see him, Dream thought it was endearing just how in debt the revived man claimed to be to him. Finally after all the excitement and catching up, and after Dream devoured several stakes and some soup, the four men settled down on a few sofas chatting casually. Phil sat next to Dream on one couch, while Techno and Wilbur faced them on another. 

“I’m telling you Phil, we really shouldn’t have left that bell when we rescued Dream. That was a perfectly good bell that was even given to me from a god. A god, Phil.” This was the third time Techno had brought up that bell he wished for when he was trapped in the prison with Dream. Even though at the time it had been infuriating, looking back at it, the situation was pretty funny. Dream chuckled along with everyone as Phil argued back about how Dream was more important than a bell, but Dream was no longer really listening. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to how lucky he was right now. This was the first time he felt truly safe in so long. He was happy.

Dream was brought from his thoughts when he heard a loud yelp across from him. During Dream’s thoughts, it seemed the conversation had escalated between Techno and Wilbur. The brunette had apparently been trying to explain to the pigman just how important and amazing Dream was, while Techon only seemed to keep bringing up the bell, likely just to get on Wilbur’s nerves. In retaliation however, Wilbur angrily pinched his side making him jump with a strange sound as Wilbur smirked.

“You want to talk about that bell one more time brother?” He tweaked his side again, making Techno raise his hands in defense. 

“I know you were only revived a little while ago, but you can’t be that stupid to challenge me like this, Wilbur,” Techno warned, and Wilbur narrowed his eyes at that. Both of them pounced, Techno grabbing onto both Wilbur’s sides and squeezing rapidly, laughing as the other did the same down near the younger’s hips. Wilbur ended up falling onto his back while still keeping his hold on his brother and drilling his thumbs into the bone, as Techno followed him down to scribble up his ribs. Both were forced into loud laughter, both very different, but still laughter nonetheless.

Dream watched in awe and amusement at the scene while Phil giggled next to him. “These two really haven’t changed since they were little,” he commented, almost fondly, and then looked over at Dream, “did you ever get into tickle fights as a kid?”

Dream was bewildered by the question somehow, it was never something that crossed his mind. He opened his mouth to answer but froze. He wasn’t even sure if he could even remember, not to mention he wasn’t even sure of the last time he had been tickled. 

Both Dream and Phil were distracted from their conversation at a sudden scream. They looked over to see Techno had gotten the upper hand in the fight, flipping Wilbur over onto his stomach to begin spidering up his back with one hand while continuing to drill into his hip with the other. Wilbur’s face was bright red from his laughter as he lay against the couch cushion on his cheek. “NAHAHAHAHA! I GIHIHIHIVE! UHUHUNCLE!!” 

Techno let up to allow Wilbur to breathe. Before he had even stopped giggling, he tackled Techno onto his back, catching him off guard. He didn’t have time to even wonder where the spare energy had come from as fingers slipped their way under his shirt and it was now Wilbur’s turn to take the upper hand. 

Phil sighed, taking Dream’s attention back to him, “They’ll tire themselves out eventually,” he mused and then met Dream’s eyes again, “so you can’t remember having any tickle fights before?” Phil asked with a smile, and Dream blushed at how easy he must have been to read.

“I mean, I can’t remember much of my childhood anyway… Besides, I don’t think I ever made friends until much later in life,”  he admitted, looking away.

“Aww mate, we gotta change that then, don’t you think?” Dream perked at that comment, not liking what that implied.

“Uhhhh no, no I’m good really haha-” He played off awkwardly, scooting away just slightly.

“Nah come on, you’re a part of this household now so you’re gonna have to get used to some tickle fights,” Phil raised his hands and wiggled his fingers at dream as he said this, making a smile pull at the corner of Dream’s lips nervously. He looked over to see Techno and Wilbur at the corner of his eyes. Their laughter had died down a lot, and they were both laid on top of each other out of breath.  

“Well, what if I’m not ticklish?” Dream reasoned, crossing his arms as he looked back at Phil, regretting it almost instantly when he saw the smirk plastered on his face. 

“There’s only one way to find out, isn't there,” And at that he attacked. Phil's already wiggling fingers made contact with Dream's sides making him flinch and try to pull back out of his grip. Phil followed his movement, and after a few more seconds Dream's laughter finally broke free. "There it is!" Phil said excitedly.

Dream squirmed against the feeling but not to get away. It felt foreign, but not necessarily unwelcome. And deep down it became apparent to him, one of his love languages used to be touch. The idea that he had spent so many months in isolation seemed much more of an absurdity to him as time went on.

"Do you know where else you're ticklish?" Phil asked innocently. Dream shook his head, not cause he didn't want to say, but because he genuinely didn't know. From across the way, Wilbur had caught his breath enough to pipe in.

“You can’t give up your spots, Dream. That’s rule number one of a tickle fight,” he instructed.

“This is a pretty one sided tickle fight if you ask me, Will” Phil giggled. He moved his hands up and down Dream’s sides, pinching the sensitive flesh rapidly making Dream’s laughter pick up. Dream used his hands to push lightly against Phil’s chest, but it didn’t help him much. Phil’s fingers climbed up and he began to wiggle his fingers between the bones of Dream’s ribs.

“WhAHAHahat thehehe hehehehell!!” Dream yelped and broke into wheezy cackles. He finally couldn’t keep sitting up anymore and fell down onto his back. Phil maneuvered himself to follow him down, and pushed his hands a little underneath him to attack the back of Dream’s ribs. Dream arched upwards which only gave Phil more room to massage the sensitive bones. “PHIHIHIHIL WAHAHAHAIT!” 

Phil stopped immediately, not wanting Dream to strain himself, and he fell back down the couch, taking in gulps of air. “Dang Dream you’re terrible at tickle fights,” Wilbure chuckled at him. Both he and Techno had sat up finally, and were silently watching the scene in front of them.

“Fuhuhuck yohohou,” Dream managed out. He squeaked again when Phil tazed down right above his hips. 

“You sure do blush easily,” Phil pointed out. Until now Dream hadn’t even noticed the hot feeling in his cheeks, but now that he had, he felt it spread all over his face. He covered it with his hands as best he could. Noticing this, Phil switched his hands to begin vibrating under Dreams arms. The feeling exploded his nerves, and he flinched his arms down to try and protect himself, trapping Phil’s wiggling fingers. 

“You surrender?” Phil asked. Those very words ignited the more stubborn part of Dream’s brain however. If there was one thing Dream didn’t do, it was lose a fight. At least not that easily. He shook his head, not daring to open his mouth to continue giggling. Phil raised an eyebrow in a little bit of shock, “Reeeeeally? You’re not done just yet huh?” Dream shrunk in on himself slightly but never said no. “Well okay then, let's see if I can find your death spot,” Phil teased and began to knead into Dream’s hips.

“BRIHIHIHING IT OHOHOHON!” Dream cackled immediately, not expecting his hips to be that sensitive. It had been a long time since he’d been able to let loose and play around like this. Besides, all he had felt for so long was pain, so in comparison, even though the feeling was almost unbearable, it felt somehow amazing to him. Phil switched from his hips to his stomach, making Dream curl into himself. His laughter died down into choked up giggles, and he squirmed from side to side. “Whyhihihihihi?!” Was all he could think to say through his mirth.

“STAHAHAHAHAP!” In one sudden movement, Dream flipped himself over to try and get away. Now laying on his stomach, he tried to curl himself into a ball while Phil’s hands were still trapped under his arms. Phil stopped moving his fingers.

“I’ve not heard of a surrender yet. Want me to move somewhere else?” Phil asked, and Dream nodded with his head buried face first into the couch cushion. Phil slipped his fingers out from under Dream’s arms and dug into his back a little under his shoulder blades. Not expecting to be that sensitive there, he nearly screamed when he felt Phil’s thumbs drill ticklish circles into the skin. “OHOHOHOH MY GOHOHOHOD NOOOHOHOHO!” Dream attempted to reach behind him to grab Phil’s arms but he couldn’t reach. 

After a couple minutes of this, and as Dream’s laughter went horse, Phil flipped him back over with ease and fluttered his fingers on both sides of his neck, making dream sigh out breathy giggles instead. Phil cooed at him, letting his nails trail around both sides of his neck and around his jawline and ears. 

“You know Dream, you’ll never win a tickle fight if you melt at the gentlest touches,” he teased, but he knew probably why he was reacting like this. This poor man hadn’t been cared for like this in such a long time. 

“Shuhuhaha- shuhuhut uhuhup” Dream’s eyes had slipped closed by now, and he looked as though he were in heaven right now. His laughter was breathless and loopy sounding. Phil finally let up and ran his fingers through the man’s hair. 

“Well I’d say that was pretty good for what I’m assuming was your first experience with real tickling, huh.” Phil sat all the way back up as Dream stayed where he was laying. Conversation picked back up as normal, but now Dream was even more relaxed than he was before. This must be what it felt like to be loved. He couldn’t believe he’d gone so long without it. He’d never take it for granted ever again.

He was sure of it.

[daydreaming-away-reality]

Winter Artwork

Jack Frost x Reader | ☁️ | 1.4k | Teacher!Reader

Grabbing the big bin of art supplies, you carefully navigated your way around the classroom to the desk at the front of the room. Setting it down on the ground, you started pulling out the different supplies. 

Pencil crayons, crayons, paints, brushes, glitter - nope. You put the glitter back into the bin. Not today - you were giving them enough free reign in art as is, glitter was not going to be a problem today. Paint would be easier to deal with.

Straightening up the piles of blank papers and cardstock ready to become canvas for your students, you tried to remember what you were missing.

“Ah, the extra art instructions and colouring sheets,” you recalled. Heading over to the printer in the resource room, you paused to peek out the window. 

Your students, among all the other students at the school, were happily screaming and playing outside in the snow. There was probably about ten minutes left for their outdoor break and they were definitely making the most of it.

(E/C) eyes scanning the playground, you noticed a certain figure that didn’t quite belong. While he could have been another staff member out on supervision, you knew that they were one of your co-workers. Taller than students and not dressed properly for the weather, the white haired male was excitedly engaged with playing with the kids. 

As if he could tell you were watching him, his blue eyes made contact with yours briefly. His charming crooked smile was flashed your way and had you blushing as you quickly turned away. 

Hopefully none of the students had seen that little interaction.

Returning to your trip to the resource room, you grabbed your pile of printing. You quickly checked your printing, making sure you had all the instructions, colouring sheets and, oh, looks like you printed the word searches too. Less work for next time.

The bell rang just as you were heading back into your classroom, the sound of feet pattering back into the school. 

“Alright, looks like I got everything,” you declared. 

The familiar sounding voices began to float into your classroom as your students started trickling back in.

“Ms. (Y/N)!” a voice chirped. 

You turned around with a smile. “Hi Camila!”

“Did you see the snow castle that me and Sonya built outside? We tried to make it super big!” 

“I haven’t! You’ll have to show you tomorrow when I’m outside with you!” you replied. “Is there space in your castle for me too?”

“Hmmm.” Camila paused to think. She turned to Sonya. “We need to make space for Ms. (Y/N) in our castle!”

Sonya gasped. “We completely forgot!”

You laughed at how cute they were. Greeting some of the others as they came back inside, you made sure everyone was accounted for before getting their attention.

“Alright, my friends!” you called out. “Remember what I told you we’d be doing for the afternoon?”

“Art!”

“Art,” you repeated happily. “So, today we’ll be making so wintery art to decorate the classroom. Since the winter holidays are coming up, I want you to draw or paint or colour anything you like related to winter. I have all the supplies up here and if you’re not sure where to start -” You picked up your print outs. “-I have ideas we can start with. Any questions?”

Your (E/C) eyes scanned the room.

“Sam?”

“Can I make a snowflake?” 

“Absolutely!” you agreed. “I loved to see your snowflake.”

“Henry?” 

“Are we allowed to draw what we did outside today?”

“Of course you can!”

You paused, waiting to see if there were any more questions. The excitement to do art seemed to sparkle in their little eyes as they all looked up at you.

“All right, supplies is up here on the table if you need it. Let’s get started!” 

Your students started moving around, getting the supplies they needed, chatting with their friends about what they wanted to do. Floating around the room to check up on everyone and help when you were needed, you soon found the classroom to be serene and on task. 

A rare treat from your energetic bunch.

Moving to the windows on the side of the room, you peered out to look at the snowy landscape outside. It was lovely to see the frost forming patterns on the glass. It was definitely chilly out though - you were glad you brought your scarf today.

“Ms. (Y/N)?”

“Yes,” you responded, turning around.

A teacher’s work is never done after all.

“Bye Ms. (Y/N)!” 

“Bye!!”

“Have a good weekend!”

You waved to your class as they all headed out for the day. Offering some of them hugs, you made sure everyone left the classroom before letting out your breath.

Another day done. 

Gathering the artwork piled on your desk, you flipped through what your students handed in. From pictures of snow people to playing in the snow to winter holiday traditions, your students had created lots of wonderful work. 

Seeing it all brought a smile to your face.

A certain drawing caught your eye - a picture of a boy with white hair, a blue hoodie and a wooden looking staff. 

You chuckled at the sight. How cute.

Armed with your stapler, some tape and the lovely winter art work from your students, you moved to the empty wall space to decorate the classroom. 

“Not heading home yet, (Y/N)?” 

You added a staple before turning to see the teacher next door. 

“Not yet, I still have some work to finish up in the classroom,” you replied.

“Thanks again for the coffee this morning,” they said. “It definitely helped me get through the morning.”

You smiled. “Anytime. Have a good evening!”

“You too!” they chimed before waving and leaving.

After working on putting up the art up for another fifteen minutes, you paused to look around the classroom. The place finally had some more cheer to it again - especially since you had taken down their last art pieces.

“Someone has been working hard.” 

The playful sounding observation was followed by arms wrapped your face and a cool breath tickling your neck. Leaning back into their embrace, you turned your head to meet the bright blue eyes that were watching you lovingly. 

“I always work hard,” you replied. “It was nice to see you playing with the kids.”

“They’re a great bunch,” he commented. His eyes shifted over to look at the art. “Oh, cool! Did you have them draw winter?”

You nodded, watching the boy excitedly move around your classroom to look at the student’s work. 

Jack laughed at the sight of one of the drawings. You moved over and laughed as well. 

Terry had drew and labelled his drawing - him and his friends having a snowball fight with the caption under one person who was being hit with the a snow as ‘Tony got hit in the face - we made sure he was okay after though!!’

“He’s a funny one,” you said with a chuckle, admiring the details.

“That might have been my snowball...” Jack confessed. 

You gasped and smacked his arm. “I better not need to fill out any incident reports because of you!”

“I’m careful! I swear!” The Guardian of Fun defended. 

You shook your head in amusement as you moved around the room, pushing in some chairs as you went. The last picture you put up before Jack came in made you pause.

“Sophie drew a picture of you,” you pointed out. “It looks exactly like you, Jack.”

Jack moved back to your side, his eyes taking in the details of the art. 

“Is this how I look in your eyes too?” 

You laughed. “I mean... It looks pretty accurate, but, I think she missed some of your charming details.”

Jack pulled you into a hug. “I love you, you know that right?”

“I love you too,” you murmured, returning his embrace. 

“When do I get to see some of your art?” Jack asked.

"Am I not a work of art?” you responded, kissing his cheek. Squirming out of his embrace, you grabbed your stuff and packed it into your bag. “Let’s go, I want to spend some quality time with you outside the classroom.”

Jack grinned. “Right behind you, love.”

[im-not-a-joke]

Mmh... All the field

the whole- the whole field....

thank you for asking, this is going to be one long post

Alisons: Sexuality?

asexual, unlabeled/queer romantic

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

they/them or he/him, nonbinary

Amaryllis: Birthday?

february 4th

Anemone: Favorite flower?

bleeding heart

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?

steven universe

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger?

probably offer a place to sleep overnight

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

“Do you think God stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he’s created?”

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?

strawberry lemonade

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

my gf? yes, absolutely.

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

i’d like to think so, yes

Baneberries: Favorite song?

currently “better than me” by the brobecks

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

a mess, i have three siblings, and two of them are currently living at home, we also have two large dogs

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it?

yes! my best friend anna, and her brother bryan!

Begonia: Favorite color?

purple

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

mantis shrimp

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

night person

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

dog, i want the constant love and affection

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

first a botanist, then a geologist

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?

i want to adopt some someday! sometimes they suck, but i want to be there for someone who doesn’t have a family to lean on.

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?

abandonment, because i’m annoying

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

i shared a room with my little brother until i was like 12.

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?  

visiting all the people i love most, all of my friends, my gf, i’d call my sister

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

taken!

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

france

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?

when people take the time out of their day to talk to me

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?  

nope, i do want some someday, though

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?  

yes! i got my ears pierced twice because it ripped my earlobe the first time

California Poppy: Height?  

~5′8″

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

yes, and if i die before any of my friends, i’m coming back to haunt them

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?  

a floral tank top, my favorite sleeveless cardigan, and jean shorts

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

yes, my little brother was afraid of the dark and insisted on having a nightlight on

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?  

my mom

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?

my gf

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

architect’s daughter

Columbine: Are you tired?

yes, very

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

tomorrow i get to leave the house all day to drive across the state and it’s going to be a lot of fun

Coneflower: Dream job?

language teacher! either english to people who don’t speak it or german/french to english speakers

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?

introvert. i’m on tumblr all day

Crocus: Have you ever been in love?

yeah, i think so

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?

i’d actually die for multiple people in my life

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

yes! a stuffed white dog with a plaid scarf and matching antlers! my friend got it for me because it reminded her of my big white dog.

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

aquarius

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

once i came 3rd in my age group for a 5k i ran

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?

i successfully kept a frail axolotl alive for an entire summer

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?  

i dont care what my parents think about stuff like that, they cant tell my who i am or am not allowed to date

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

@byler-obsessed literally like, maybe 15 minutes ago as of writing this

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?

i’d like to think i’m decent at singing

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

staying awake during the day

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

i saw my gf for the first time in months! i came out to the girls team for xc! i spent a lot of time with one of my closest irl friends!

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

decent, i had coach practice, which was nice

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

yeah, i’d say i’m pretty happy where i am

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?

learn guitar

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

my best friends anna and bryan, my older brother, the girls on the team, my ukulele, my therapist, my dogs, the creek in my back yard, my grandma’s amish apple dumpling recipe, random internet memes, books

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?  

listening to my spotify playlist

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

reassurance and/or talking about things that i enjoy, i’m really insecure so if i’m talking about something i like, that’s me trusting you. 

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?

the mental health progress i’ve made

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

i lay in bed until like 11, then, i spend the rest of the day out with my friends, we get sushi for dinner and stay up until like 3am

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?  

be on tumblr

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them?

i met them both in 6th grade, anna nad i were in the same science class and i met bryan at lunch, he didn’t talk to me for at least the first half of the year.

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?

bryan, he always knows just what to say, and knows that he doesn’t have to fix my problems to be a good friend.

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

like, 13?

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

my friend once told me that they couldn’t tell if i was a boy or girl upon first meeting me and it made my day.

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

i’m a mess, an anxious, depressed, gay mess

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

my hair, it’s really fluffy and soft, and just about light enough to dye bright colors

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?  

my chest, it’s always been a huge part of my dysphoria and i want it gone please

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

i would play dress up with my dog, he had to suffer through wearing all my old dresses, but he got treats so it was ok

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid?

my friend ry, we met in second grade, we’re still on and off friends, currently off

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?

in 5th grade i used the word “suck” in class and got yelled at

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?  

see above answer

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

carson: christian. it’s my name because i like how it sounds, and anna really liked it too, she picked it for me.

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

white, suburban ohio. all the kids had cliques by the second day of kindergarten, and if you were knew, you generally had a pretty good chance of being picked up by the popular kids.

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

i had bunkbeds with my little brother, i slept on the bottom.

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?  

so far, not really. i’m just mentally ill and closeted, it’s not great

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

she likes to dye her hair crazy colors, and she used to be a beekeeper, even though she’s allergic to bee stings.

Onions: Tell about your dad.  

he rides his bike almost every day, and supports my mom in whatever she does

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

on my mom’s side, the kindest boomers i’ve ever met, my grandpa used to take us on “adventures” to the park and just watch us play

on my dad’s side: my grandpa loves seeing us but doesn’t get out much, my grandma laughs hysterically at every family gathering, and has all the best amish recipes

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable?

when i turned 13, i went ice skating for the first time and fell and sprained my wrist

Peony: What was your first job?

mowing lawns

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

we had mutual friends and slowly ended up being close, we were in school plays and track together.

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

i bite down on my finger to simultaneously distract myself, focus on something else, and hold myself back

Pink: Where is home?

my best friends’ living room at 1 am, with the golden girls playing in the background

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change?

i’d go back and stop current president from becoming president

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

my sister, she has always been driven and passionate and talented, and she makes everything seem effortless and still gives it her all.

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

me and my spouse and my kids amd my dogs all live in a decently spacious house in europe, my job is stable and i love my work, my students think i’m cool and come to me if they need help, i am doing well.

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

i used to believe that the smoke from fireworks was where clouds came from

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

my best friends

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

the sound of rain on my roof at night

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

when my sister, dad, and i all climbed to the top of a mountain in california

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

throwing up in the car on the way home for visiting my sister in new york

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?  

a hug from anna

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

it’s hard because i don’t trust people

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

the internet

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

like 5.5 hours

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

to run, it makes me feel better and i love cross country

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

lmao i dont have one

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

my binder!

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.  

the record player song but a boy

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

a list of reasons why you deal with me/things you like about me

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

the fact that this is taking a lot longer than anticipated and i don’t want people to think i’m ignoring their asks

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

actual books? only 2, Catcher in the Rye and the Night Circus

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

out with my friends

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?

yes, and i regret it

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

i’m double jointed in my left pinky

[boyslaughplus]

Devlog #41 - A Colourful Journey

Can we offer you an in-depth view into how Pectin chooses colours for (a sequence of) Background Art in //TODO: today? Or want to know how Pectin thinks about colour?? Again, this an older devlog, but definitely a gem! ☆

Here we go!:

Hi! :D Today PECTIN is back again with another devlog about the art of //TODO: today! It's about some subtle elements of the background which can be seen in the second half of the game.

If you haven't already played the second half beware of SPOILERS. If you aren't scared of spoilers or already played that part you can safely read on.

Colour and Mood

Here's a simple breakdown of how I think of colours and values:

(Despite what Johannes Itten said, and many others for that matter..., I think that green is a warm colour! ヽ( ．∀・)ﾉ┌┛ )

So when I say friendly colours I'm talking about colours that are rather in the warm spectrum, with high values (appearing "bright"). Colours you see on a sunny day. :3

The perception of colour is a subjective experience and others might feel different about them. Colours also appear different in context to each other. Look up Colour Assimilation if you're interested. But we're here for something else. I want to show you how colour is used in a certain part of //TODO: today now that the terms I use are a bit clearer.

The Joyce Rescue Mission

Thinking of the art of //TODO: today you probably think of the colourful palettes and lively pastels. That's true for most of the scenes in the game but not all of them.  In the second half of Todo, Teal, Zen and Phoenix can break into the Bell Tech headquarters to confront Joyce.

Back when we were deciding on the rough parts of the story we thought of Bell Tech as a sinister organisation. Somehow like the Aether Foundation in Pokémon Sun & Moon. They've got that neat and clean white look going but there's something off about them. White is also a shade that can be found in the context of purity, innocence and good will. For example the whiteness of clean snow, the wings of an angel or a doctor's coat.

Bell Tech's brand tones are blue and white. Fitting for a medical technology company.

In the final game however Bell Tech didn't get to be the ultimate villain Teal has to fight, but they kept some questionable features and a certain two-facedness.

Take a look at this though. Isn't this just a friendly reception hall?

Bright colours and an open space. Some light yellow and orange-red here and there makes it friendly. Yet there is a majority of cool, blueish colours in it. Makes it less comfy than a cozy café, huh.

Well let's move deeper into the company's HQ.

These are public hallways. The colours are almost the same as the previous background illustration. But what's this? Only one tiny little red-orange sign above the elevator. Even that is muted though. The rest is in cool tones. We still get a lot of sunlight so it's not too unfriendly. Although about a third of the picture is in dark blue or shadows... 

...Next we have a more private affair. A meeting room with some head figures of the company.  Compared to the reception hall this feels almost oppressive. We have big windows but the colours are in sickly (/muted!) green and blue tones. The white areas are smaller than the rest. The lady in the front may have red hair but it's purple-ish in this setting.  Although closer to red than blue, it's a cool tone.

So you might already know where this is going. The Last background illustration is the server room. The last stage for the squad to arrive and meet Joyce for an emotional exchange.

Here there're almost no whites anymore. Only the exit sign glows brightly. The room is dark and the purple I introduced before makes an appearance again to allow a bit of variety in the overall colour scheme.

And here is every background, including the deep talk scene, next to each other:

Can you see the gradual progression into the darker tones? The desktop backdrop upon which Joyce appears is even darker than the server room. But I also did that to give Joyce a glowing effect.

So why did I do this?

1. As mentioned before, the player mostly navigates through happy colourful places in the game. I wanted to introduce them into the setting gradually without the darkest place feeling off-brand compared to the others.

2. I wanted to subtly tell the player that Bell Tech isn't as friendly as they might appear. Although they promote with friendliness and welcome guests in a bright reception hall, their inner sanctum is a dark place. What does that say about them? (Server rooms are usually well lit so you know where to look for cables and intruders.)

3. Along with point 2., I wanted to create a feeling of tension. When you play a narrative game you follow the main narrative and it's story/quest line. The text box in Todo does most of that. But the mood and atmosphere can be underlined and emphasised with visuals and audio. The increasing darkness may foreshadow something bad or exciting. I hope the background illustrations could accomplish this. :D

Because you've come so far on this journey with me. I'll let you in on a random fact: For the server room illustration I placed every single little glowing dot/line on the server cases by hand. No Ctrl+C and Ctrl+V used. :))))

Have a nice weekend! <3 

- Pectin

[atreefullofmonkiesonnitrous]

Snow Queen - Sleigh Bells - day six

Somewhere in the Arctic -  1855

Crowley stomped across the frozen waste, bundled in so many layers he most look round from the outside.  It was dark, but that was hardly new, it had been dark for at least several days.  Why in Satan's name they would send him to this frozen wilderness he didn't know.  He did his best work abid the teeming crowds of cities, where all it took was a push on the right  person to set off a cascade that could run for years.  Besides with was no place for a reptile, they should have sent a Legion, they are warmblooded, and if one of them died out here they'd just make another.

He thought he heard a sound, something out of place, bright and cheerful.  He looked around but couldn't see anything but the featureless white world.  He resumed walking.  He wasn't even entirely sure where he was, of where he was going. He'd come up from a meeting below straight into the nothingness.  He was going north, he knew that much.  He'd never be completely lost when under the stars.  But north From where and To where he wasn't sure.  They just said get out and head north.

The sounds came again, like laughter or water.  He strained his eyes but still couldn't find the source.  The correscationg lights that danced across the sky were beautiful, but the odd illumination they left wasn't the best for distance viewing.  They created shadows where none should be, that moved like living things.  He knew he was more menacing than any umbral haunt, but they did make it blessed hard to see.  He could barely trace the line of his own footprints, disappearing into the night.

A third time he heard it, echoing through the still night.  He'd hear an owl hoot maybe an hour ago.  Sometime before that he'd heard an arctic fox digging in the snow.  He was too far inland, wherever he was for any of the more abundant life of the coasts.  No bloody bears at least, they were all sleeping nice and warm in their dens like sensible creatures.  He wished he were too.

  When the sound came this time he finally saw something.  Flashes of light from behind him.  He strained his eyes to see more.  At least if he could see what it looked like he'd know a bit more about where he was.  The chiming sounded metallic, which was less helpful than it would have been a few hundred years ago.  Whole place was getting smaller all the time these days.  People finding other people, which was going a whole lot better for the finders than the found.  Missionaries were as bad as (most) angels.  High and mighty words about "saving people" but let someone say they are quite happy as they are, no saving needed thanks, and oh don't the whips and knives come out.  Makes sense they work for Heaven, act just like them.

The lights and sounds were getting closer, and the sounds finally resolved into bells.  What sort of benighted fool would be all the way out here and still bothering with sleigh bells.  Not bloody likely to have to stop short.  If there was another pedestrian within 50 miles he'd eat his hat.  Whoever this fool was it strained credulity for them not to be Crowley's objective out here, which made him dislike them on principle.  He still had no idea what he was meant to do to the idiot that they hadn't done to themselves just by being out here.  

As the vehicle got closer, the animals pulling it became more distinct.  Once he'd realized he was hearing sleigh bells and not harnesses jingling he'd ruled out dogs.  At that point he'd expected horses.  Bringing horses up here seemed like the kind of move that would go with the sleigh bells.  He was wrong.  What he did see were a matched pair of reindeer as white as the barren landscape.  Their harnesses must have also been white, since he couldn't see them, excerpt for the spots where they were gleaming with the golden bells he had been hearing.  Their antlers were wrapped in greenery, though they weren't close enough yet for him to say what, other than some sort of vine.  If he knew a blessed thing about reindeer they might tell him something about where he was, to bad he didn't.

Once he could finally see the sleigh that didn't help much either.  It looked like a fantasy of a sleigh and not like any particular type he'd ever seen.  It was made of something shimmering and translucent, like glass or ice.  He was beginning to feel distinctly odd about this.  The winter fairytale vision began to slow as it approached.  He noticed no driver sat up front, the reins lay loose, the reindeer seeking to know where to go.

        Crowley felt his heart seize up.  His strange assignment coming into focused, and if he was right, this was a test, and not one he knew how to pass.  He could see the passenger now, and for a moment, even though his fears had just been completely confirmed, he clean forgot them.  She was breathtaking, as in he forgot to breath for a solid minute.  For one thing she was a "she" which was unusual enough.  Aziraphale rarely took on a female shape, but when she did she was glorious.  

Her hair was long, as it almost never was, a starlight spill down her back and shoulders, crowned by a spiky coronet that looked like shards of ice. Her throat was defined by a choker of the pale blue stones and depended lower in an elaborate necklace.  She was all in white velvet with traceries of the same gems glittering across the bodice.  The soft, pleasant curves she always had were magnified now, he could see her magnificent bosom and could imagine the extra fullness in her hips, currently hidden beneath the white furs that blanketed her lap.  He wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to wrap himself around her and hold her tight.  He  stood rooted to the spot as she pulled to a stop next to him.

"Crowley, what on earth are you doing all the way out here.  There can't be much tempting to do here?"  At the angel's words, the reality of the situation came crashing back to him.  

"I think you are the reason I'm here," he replied.  "They just said go up here, go north, you'll know it when you see it.  And the first thing I saw was you in this stunning fairytale rig.  What are you up to in this get up?"     

"Oh, I'm supposed to be a vision, they think the arctic needs a saint, but the people here don't seem to go in for that sort of thing.  Lot of stuff and bother if you ask me.  But it was rather a direct order my dear, I'm afraid I can't can't just let it drop."

"Nah, best you don't, think I'm going to have to be seen 'doing something' about it." He turned back to the snow. 

"Cowley," Aziraphale called, "I can at least let you ride along a bit of the way.  Not too far, mind, but it's dreadfully cold."

Crowley considered the danger they were being watched already, but if they were, they'd already been seen talking.  He climbed in and Aziraphale budged over to make room, but the sleigh really was built for one so it was a tight fit.  Crowley didn't mind at all.  He leaned as far into the angel as he thought he could get away with and lost himself for a time in the warmth against his side, and the chiming of the bells.

Eventually they stopped.  "The village is just a few hours north on foot," Aziraphale looked over sadly, "it's probably best you go on alone from here."

Crowley got up reluctantly, "You're right, Angel, thanks for the lift anyway.  If say good luck, but well…"

"Yes, well, I'll see you after?"

"I hope so, my lot didn't arrange transport home either."  With that he stepped out of the sleigh and began to walk.  The reindeer started moving again and quickly the entire conveyance disappeared again into the white world.  The last thing to go was the sound of bells.

Crowley walked the rest of the way into the town, which hardly warranted the name.  He hid himself and set about dropping some eves.  His luck was apparently back, as he overhead the most fascinating bed time story.  He left the town and came back in, openly and carrying a great pack.  He told the curious people that he was a scholar there to collect stories, especially fairytales.  He proceed to sit in the warm Central meeting house, and copy down every story told.  Hey was quickly joined by every child, and no few of the adults.  

He had only been at it a few days when the children started telling their own stories.  They had seen the Snow Queen in the woods.  Most of the adults laughed then off, but Crowley, the kind scholar, listened quite seriously and wrote down their stories with the rest.  He told them how clever and brave they were to remember their old stories and get away from the dangerous fairy. 

After a couple of weeks the children stop having new stories of the Snow Queen in the woods, and the old folks have finished telling all their tales.  Crowley promises to send them copies of the book he will make, and put the name of each teller with the tale. (And he actually does.) He leaves the town with a pack of provisions an skis he now knows how to not fall down on.  He goes much faster than when he was on foot.

He's gone half a day when he hears the bells again.  The reindeer are their normal dun now.  The sleigh is wood, painted blue and silver.  The occupant looks as he usually does, in a long white coat, his gloved hands on the reins, his short white blonde curls peeking out from under his hat.  The sleigh comes to a stop nearby, and Crowley skis up.

"Need a lift again?" Aziraphale asks.  Crowley grins.

"I won't say no to one, at least as far as a town if regular routes south, or a port." He climbed in. Stowing his skis and pack on the back.  With a flick of the reins they were off again.

"So, you going to tell me how you thwarted me this time?" The angel was smiling as he asked.

"Me?  I didn't really do anything.  Just sat in the village and let them tell me stories.  Gonna make a book of it so their traditional beliefs don't disappear." He gave his best guileless grin.  Aziraphale looked unimpressed.

"Pull the other one, it's got bells on."

Crowley laughed.  "No, really, this is all on your bosses.  They sent you out rigged up as a local fairytale who steals children.  Once I get it printed, you can take them the book."

"They get more and more out of touch every century."  Aziraphale said with a grimace.  "Most likely they were hoping a child would try to 'banish' me, which is basically a fake miracle and would make a fake saint.  How does that even help?"

"I can't say, almost sounds like one of our sort of schemes.  If I didn't know better, I'd think someone in our chains of command was sharing notes."  As soon as the words were out of Crowley's mouth his spin felt even more icy than the clime could account for.  If Heaven and Hell were comparing notes, it would only be a matter of time before the Arrangement was found out.  He realized he needed a plan for when that day came.  He could see similar trepidation on the angel's face.

"You know what, I think that route downstairs was somewhere near here.  Might be best if I went back that way."  The sleigh immediately began to slow.

"Yes, that might be a good idea, my dear," Aziraphale agreed.  "Do mind how you go, though."

"Course I will, Angel, just got some thinking to do."  Crowley replied.  He retrieved his pack and skis and headed off.  He needed to think of some kind of insurance against Hell.

For @drawlight‘s 31 days of ineffables --  hoooo  boy am I behind!  Work Conference sorry!

[everlarkficexchange]

The Virgin (Social) Suicides

WRITTEN BY: @ally147writes

PROMPT 85: Katniss makes unsettling discovery that everyone in her close and extended group of friends has dated at least once and sometimes even each other. Except for her. The “late bloomer” teasing (b/c she’s never even been kissed) stings. Older boy Gale crosses paths with group, finds he shares common interests with Katniss, they get together to hunt, leads to him casually inviting her out for a real dinner date. Not feeling desire but pressure to “get it over with,” she accepts. Peeta has regrets. [submitted by @567inpanem]

NOTES: I desperately wanted to have this complete, but uni conspired against me. A million thanks to our angel mods, @xerxia31 and @javistg for holding this exchange, and allowing the extra week 😊

This is parts one-and-a-half (ish?) of a (probably?) four-part story. I won’t be posting to AO3 or anywhere else until the rest of it is complete. Parts 2, 3 and 4 are all between 30% and 75% complete already, so hopefully it won’t take me too long to wrap up.

Unbeta’d. All errors are my own.

Rated M for swears and discussions of sex (or lack thereof)

Thom and Lavinia’s engagement party is a sedate affair, which Katniss never would have guessed. Whenever Thom or Lavinia were left in charge of planning anything, it always started with them drowning themselves in cheap beer at Abernathy’s, got a bit muddy somewhere in between, and ended in a trip to the hospital for someone to get their broken wrist or dislocated shoulder set.

And once, to the police station, to face indecent exposure charges.

The doing of their mothers, Katniss supposes. (Probably a smart move, considering the alternatives; no one’s engagement party should end in a holding cell). They’re perched by the string quartet, amongst a cluster of white rose bushes, their oversized, feather-trimmed hats knock against each other’s with every exaggerated, bird-like nod and squawking laugh they release, while their husbands make awkward small-talk by the fence overlooking the golf course.

How they’re out there like that in the sun, in dark suits and all, Katniss has no idea. She dabs a napkin across her damp hairline and peels her sticky skin away from the plastic of the chair. An afternoon in the sprawling gardens of the Snow estate, when it’s pushing a hundred degrees out, isn’t exactly her idea of a good day — if she weren’t part of the bridal party, Katniss would have skipped out hours ago. Add that to the cocktail dress she all but shoved her body into and the hair that’s falling out of her braid and sticking to her glossed lips, she’s about ready to revolt.

But, she concedes, Thom’s parents are loaded up to their eyeballs, and they’ve made sure there’s free — mercifully cold — booze everywhere, so bottom’s up.

The happy couple don’t seem to mind the heat, or the change in pace too much. The groom-to-be dips his laughing bride over his arm and kisses her square on the lips, swaying along to the soft tones of the violin strings, the intimate connection between them somehow the simplest thing in the world. The scene should inspire at least a smile — she’s happy for her friends, right? But it tugs somewhere deep at Katniss instead, unrelenting and unrepentant, leaving behind an odd sort of hollowness, demanding more yet leaving her starving for… something.

“They’re sweet together, aren’t they?” says Madge as she sips her champagne.

Katniss shakes her head, but she can’t stop the nagging in her gut. “Yeah, I guess. It’s a little sickening, actually.”

“You would say that, wouldn’t you?”

“What? They’re hunting for each other’s intestines through their mouths.”

“You are absolutely disgusting.” Madge swipes a celery stick from their shared crudité platter and nibbles at it like a rabbit. “Please stop speaking.”

“I’m still not wrong.”

“I guess it is kind of funny, though,” Madge goes on, chomping through the celery. “You’d never guess he could be so doting. I mean, when I dated Thom, the nicest thing he ever did for me was give me the olives off his pizza.” She sighs and smiles an odd little smile as Katniss’ hand freezes with a cherry tomato halfway to her mouth. “I guess it really does change everything when you meet the right person.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” She drops the tomato, and it bounces off the table and lands on the floor, where someone will slip on it later, probably her. “You dated Thom? As in, Thom, Thom?”

Madge arches a plucked brow. “Well, yeah, a while ago now, not long after we first started college. Well before Lav was in the picture, if that’s what you’re worried about. I thought you knew about it; we were all friends then.”

Katniss frowns and tries to dredge the memory — what would Thom have looked like then? Was this during his mohawk days, or after? “For how long?”

Madge quirks her head to the side, and not a single strand falls out of her intricate up-do. “I don’t know. A few months, maybe? Not a long time.”

Katniss taps her index finger — unadorned with polish, to Prim’s everlasting dismay — against the pristine surface of the timber table. “Is it… weird? Being friends with him now, I mean?”

Madge laughs. “Kat, if it was weird to hang out with someone I’d dated before, I’d have to find a whole new group of friends.”

“Why?” Madge smiles that weird little smile again, and the urge to slap it off is overwhelming. “How many of them have you gone out with?”

“Uh…? Let’s see.” Madge counts them off on her fingers, like there’s a real need to keep track of them. “Thom, Darius, Gloss. Leevy a couple of times, too, but that was over pretty much as soon as it started. Oh, and Peeta once, as well.”

Katniss chokes on a piece of cucumber. Oh, god. “Peeta, too?”

“Yeah. What’s the matter, Katniss?” Madge flashes another grin as Katniss knocks back a hearty sip of her drink. “Jealous?”

“No!” she exclaims. But without even meaning to, she finds Peeta across the courtyard, where he’s entertaining Lavinia’s many nieces and nephews with embarrassing Dad-style magic tricks. The sleeves of his starched, pale blue dress shirt are pushed up around his elbows, and there’s a rogue curl stuck with sweat against his forehead. He meets her eyes and smiles at her, as warm and tangible as a touch. Her cheeks flood with heat and she tears her gaze away. God, it’s like they’re in school all over again.

Madge shoots a grin Katniss can only describe as shit-eating, and it’s all she can do not to throw her remaining champagne in Madge’s face.

“No, of course you’re not,” Madge says, like she’s talking down a screaming child. “That would mean you had a soul or something.”

There’s nothing she can say now that wouldn’t incriminate her further. Katniss turns to the dripping glass of ice water at her elbow and drains it.

“Well…” she says, once she’s certain the nuclear blush on her cheeks is under control. “Why’d you only go out with him once?”

Madge smiles that stupid little smile again. The secret one Katniss has no insight to or context for.

“Peeta’s… very sweet. He’ll make the girl he’s got his eye on extremely happy.”

The words are innocuous, but something in Katniss seizes urgently. “Peeta’s got someone in mind?”

Madge nods and adds solemnly, “Has done for years now.”

“Years?” There’s no good reason why this information should make her want to break something. None at all. “Why won’t he make a move?”

Madge snorts, and the sound is weird coming out of someone so refined. “Honestly?” she says, as she flags down a waiter for another class of champagne. “I’d say he’s terrified. The girl isn’t exactly one who’ll take his declaration with open arms.”

She shouldn’t — she knows she doesn’t want to — but she prods anyway. “You know who she is?”

“She was pretty much the basis of our one and only date. He didn’t think he had a chance, needed someone to wallow with, that sort of thing.” Madge smiles a dreamy sort of smile and tips her eyes closed. “God, we got so drunk.”

“…And?”

“I’m not going to tell you!” Madge nudges her with her bony elbow, but the effect is ruined by the draping, bell-sleeves of Madge’s deep-aubergine dress. “Ask him yourself if you’re that curious.”

Yeah, there’s not a prayer in hell of that happening.

“So,” Katniss says instead. “Have our friends always been so… incestuous?”

Madge rolls her eyes and, for the first time since this awkward line of questioning began, looks vaguely annoyed. “Katniss, what’s the problem? I’m pretty sure Annie and Finnick are the only other completely monogamous people we know. Johanna’s dated pretty much everyone, too. Cato made the rounds too, before he got his shit together with Clove. Darius dated Lavinia, too, when he and Thom were roommates. That’s how she met Thom in the first place.”

“So… yes?”

Madge laughs and sighs at the same time. “It’s people in their mid-twenties being people in their mid-twenties. Honestly, I’m surprised you never noticed before — it’s not like Johanna’s discreet about it or anything — but I guess you’ve always been a bit…”

“A bit what?”

“A bit… I don’t know… pure, I guess?”

“Pure?” She spits the word out like poison and leaves it in the air.

Madge pats her arm. “There’s nothing wrong with pure, Kat. It’s just… we’re twenty-five now, you know? You don’t need to be so embarrassed about anyone else’s love life. Hell, maybe we should get you a nice date of your own, so you’ve got something else to focus on.”

Heat crawls up her chest and settles in her face. Her fancy cocktail dress feels way too small and way too hot.

“Uh…”

“Kat…”

“… Yeah?”

“You have gone on a date before, haven’t you?”

“I… uh… no?”

She’s not sure why it comes out as a question. She sure knows about her complete and total lack of love life; no need to have other people confirming it for her.

Madge’s jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

“Why would I joke about that?” she retorts. “And we’ve been friends for how long, now? How didn’t you notice?”

“I don’t know! It’s just that…” She scrutinises Katniss like she’s a wayward science experiment. “Really?”

Katniss rolls her eyes. “Yes, Madge. Really.”

“Not even in college? No one? Nothing?”

“Is it so hard to believe?” Katniss snaps. “No, Madge. I have never, not once, ever gone on a date.”

 “Well, you’ve… you’ve at least had sex before, right?”

Heat fills her cheeks until she’s sure she’s about to melt from the pain of it all, though she’s got no idea why it embarrasses her so much. It’s normal, right? Or normal-ish, at least. And it’s not like she planned on it happening. Or not happening. Whatever.

Her virginity isn’t some sacred, precious jewel she’s carting around in a bubble wrap-lined basket. And it’s not something she’s hoarding, just so she can get down on bended knee and present it to The Right Guy when The Right Moment comes along. It’s not a personal choice, a feminist statement or even a religious one. The opportunity to do so just hasn’t… come up, so to speak.

And it’s fine. She guesses. Most of the time, it doesn’t even bother her. She’s had enough going on in her life that it isn’t something she’s missed, or even had time for. And it’s not like she’d be any good at any of it, anyway. The hand-holding. The intimacy. The kisses.

The sex.

The mere idea almost makes her shudder. She’d suck. And not in the sexy way.

It might be nice. Maybe. One day. When she’s good and ready to make it happen.

Until then, though…

“Uh…”

Madge’s bright blue eyes blow wide. “Katniss!” she shrieks.

A hundred people turn and stare at them, Peeta included, not even slightly helping her blush to fade faster.

“For the love of God, Madge, would you keep it down?” Katniss swats at Madge’s arm and hisses down at the table, “No, I’ve never done… anything.”

Madge lowers her voice to a harsh whisper. “Not even kissed?”

Right on cue, Thom kisses Lavinia again, long enough for it to get awkward. Katniss scowls and looks away. “No, Madge,” she mumbles. “Not even kissed. Or held hands. Or hugged or by someone who wasn’t an immediate family member.”

“What about yourself? Do you masturbate?”

“Fucking hell, Madge, really?”

“Okay, sorry. I just…” Madge gives a tight laugh and shakes her head. “I… You cannot be serious right now.”

“What part of this is so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you’re gorgeous, for one. A great person, kind, generous, brave, loyal to a fault. Anyone would be lucky, you know?”

Katniss snorts and drags a carrot stick through a warm bowl of hummus. Why couldn’t they have held the party indoors, like normal people? Yeah, maybe she’d still be getting the third degree, but at least the condiments might be cold. “Yeah, no. I don’t think so.”

“Well,” Madge starts, leaning in so they’re a hairsbreadth apart. “Have you ever… you know, wanted to?”

There’s no right way to answer that question. If she says yes, she’s as doomed as if she answers no. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Are you…” Madge stops, starts, opens and closes her mouth like a fish blowing bubbles. “Have you ever thought that you might be ace or something?” She holds up her hands and all but yells before Katniss can say anything, “Not that there’s… it doesn’t matter if you are or anything like that, I just thought… maybe you’re —”

“— No,” Katniss cuts in, before Madge can hurt herself. “I’ve had… you know, crushes and stuff before, I’ve just never been in a relationship, and I wouldn’t have rejected one if it came along.” She shrugs. “It just never did, and I’m okay with that.”

But, is she? God, and she’s always thought of herself as an enlightened, modern, don’t-need-no-man sort of woman, too.

“Honestly, Kat? You’ve probably been hit on a thousand times, but it never registered in your head that it was even happening to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that… I don’t think you’re aware of the effect you have on people, that’s all.”

Katniss frowns at the wilting crudité platter. “You’re making me sound like a heartless bitch.”

Madge rolls her eyes. “Of course, you’re not a heartless bitch. I’m just saying you should… I don’t know… open your eyes a little, take a second look, you know? Someone might really surprise you one day.”

Again — completely against her will, she swears — she finds Peeta across the courtyard. This time, he doesn’t look up from pulling a coin from a little girl’s ear. “I’ll think about it.”

“You definitely won’t, but I’ll give you a pass for tonight.”

Katniss cringes. “You’re not going to make it your mission to get me laid, are you?”

“This isn’t a shitty eighties movie, Katniss,” Madge says as she pushes her seat away from the table and stands on her ridiculous four-inch heels. “So, no. I’m not going to try and get you laid. Now, let’s go dance or something; it’s a party, for God’s sake.”

XXX

The next time they’re all together, at a reasonable temperature and in normal clothes, Katniss surveys her friends with a strange, acute sense of awareness she didn’t possess before. Annie perched on Finnick’s lap, feeding him pretzels like coins in a slot machine; Cato and Clove with their arms wrapped around each other so tight it looks like it should hurt; Johanna and Bristel with their tongues so far down each other’s throats that they’re probably going to leave and do God knows what before their next round arrives. All of them know a sort of intimacy Katniss can’t even begin to fathom. All of them… except her.

And it’s… weird. Like she’s on the outside of a joke that’s been going on for years.

How are they all still friends? How is it all so… natural for them? Granted, it’s not like she’s got any insight to what’s going on in their brains, but it must be awkward on some level, mustn’t it? How can you share so much of yourself with one person, then pretend like it never happened? And then, how can you do it with four or five or maybe even more of the people you hang out with the most? Katniss can’t wrap her mind around any of it.

Only Peeta, sitting beside her, seems to notice her out-of-body experience.

He nudges her ankle with his foot beneath the table and leans in to whisper, “Are you all right, Katniss?”

She shivers at the warmth and scent of him, of cinnamon and dill and all kinds of other delicious things. He’s never smelled bad in all the time she’s known him. “Yeah. Just, uh… weird day.” She tips back her gin and tonic and almost chokes on it.

He nods, thoughtful, and takes another sip of his own drink, the only one he’ll have for the whole night. “That sucks,” he says, and she can tell he means it, too. He smiles, and another shiver races through her. “Wanna talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Just the usual.”

“Another drink, then?”

“I think I’m done for the night, but thanks.”

He shrugs and takes another sip. “No problem.”

“Hey… is it true you dated Madge?” She wants to punch herself in the face as soon as the words leave her mouth.

He almost spits out his drink. “What?” He coughs and thumps his chest with his fist. “She told you about that?”

“She just mentioned it. I had no idea.”

“It was… uh, a while ago.” He drags a hand through his curls and surveys her with something almost like worry. “What else did she tell you?”

“Not much. Just that you guys went out a couple of times —”

“— Once,” Peeta cuts in, a tendon in his jaw twitching. “We went out once. Years ago.”

“All right.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “Sorry for mentioning it.”

“No, Katniss —” He breaks off with a sigh and twirls the last of his beer around in the bottle. “Yeah, Madge and I went out. It wasn’t a big deal. We were both dealing with… I don’t know, shitty personal lives, I guess?”

“Madge said it was to forget a girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ, would someone please, please, cut out her tongue?

“I… uh…” He chugs back the rest of his beer in one feel swoop. Awesome, now he doesn’t have to watch her tear at her hair. “I guess it was kind of like that. I think Madge had just stopped seeing that Blight guy? It was… a while ago, that’s for sure.” He looks at her critically. “Why do you ask?”

She lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I don’t know. Just, she mentioned it and I was… curious, I guess.”

His lips quirk into a hint of a smile. “Curious about what, Katniss?”

Yeah, her brain taunts her. Curious about what, Katniss?

Even if she knew, she’s got no clue how to go about admitting it to Peeta, of all people.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles at her empty glass. “Nothing, I guess.”

Now, the concern is back full-force. “You sure?”

Not really, but she’s not so sure why or what or how anymore. “Yeah. I’m sure. But I think I’ll take that drink now, if you’re still offering.”

He flags down the nearest server and says, “Yeah. I think I might, too.”

[thestuckylibrary]

Mods’ Reads: December 2018

Here’s the list of everything the Mods have read this past month!

Mod Blue

Red Right Hand* by littleblackfox (complete | 71,532 | M) *graphic violence

"Steven,” Erskine says, his expression shifting from kindly to something sharper. “Make no mistake, there are things that go bump in the night. And we are the things who bump back.”

In 1943 Johann Schmidt attempts to open a portal to the nine realms to raise a demonic army against the Allied Forces. His efforts are thwarted by Abraham Erskine and the Howling Commandos, but not before something comes through - a child. A demon child, his body flame-red but for his silver left arm. Seventy years later Steve Rogers, still reeling from an encounter with a Djinn, is offered a job with the mysterious SSR, and comes face to face with the legendary Hellboy.

If You Ever Did Believe by wearing_tearing (oneshot | 33,192 | M)

Bucky Barnes will never die of a broken heart. The spell he cast at thirteen, in between white petals and whispered words of magic, makes sure of that.

But then Bucky murders someone, conspires with his sister to hide the body, and meets Steve Rogers.

Untitled Bullshit by hakunahistata, Izulkowa (complete | 16,678 | T)

“Date?” Steve smiles.

“Yeah, you an’ me. Dinner and a movie, or we could always skip straight to the fun stuff. I’m easy.”

Steve shakes his head with a small laugh. “Think you have the wrong idea, pal.”

“One of these days I’m gonna convince you that it’s me who has the right idea.” Bucky says, just like he does every appointment.

***

After an injury leaves Bucky Barnes armless, jobless, and back at his parent’s house, he meets his physical therapist, Steve Rogers. It’s not the best timing but it’s certainly not the worst.

The Courage In Silence Speaks Of Love* by Menatiera, Tsuminoaru (complete | 65,135 | M) *graphic violence

"Steve was used to weird things. He was used to mundane things too. What he wasn’t used to, however, was waking up at the crack of dawn to find an unconscious man in his backyard, clearly the reason behind the alarms being triggered."

Life isn't particularly exciting for an expelled Summer Knight in the human world, years after his mortal love died of old age. So he's a little surprised when his old world comes knocking on his door in the form of a wounded, masked and voiceless fey.

Turns out, the new visitor has a past, too, and when it catches up with them, the Summer Knight's life is going to get interesting again.

Unfortunately, among the Sidhe, interesting almost always means dangerous. To them, and to those who they want to protect as well.

it won't be a stylish marriage by mambo (oneshot | 1,546 | G)

Steve wants to propose.

But he's a little shy.

In My Cold Arms by alby_mangroves, coldwinterrose (Eris13), maichan (complete | 35,656 | E)

After James’ rescue in 1991, he felt like he’d built a pretty good, if slightly lonely, life for himself. He had a beautiful cabin in the woods, his cats for company, and his woodworking and knitting to keep him busy. One day though, he gets a phone call that could change everything.

When Steve woke to an unexpected and shocking future, he was at a loss for what to do with himself. There were no more wars to fight, and no home to go back to. He struggled to figure out who he is in this new world; until he finds that maybe he didn’t lose as much as he first thought.

Part 2 of blessed be the boys time can't capture

At Sixes and Sevens by Speranza (oneshot | 2,938 | M)

Part 13 of 4 Minute Window

Hearts Like Ours by FindingFrancis, wearing_tearing (complete | 100,590 | E)

“You’re kind of a weird one, aren’t you?”

Bucky gasps, all mock-offense. “We’re rolling with the insults today, aren’t we?”

Steve flushes again, shoulders tight. “Sorry. Just… Sorry.”

Bucky’s expression softens, and he goes with his gut as he reaches a hand out, fingers grazing the back of Steve’s hand on the table. Steve’s skin is warm, just as Bucky thought it would be. “It’s okay. It’s actually kind of nice knowing you can match my level of asshole.”

*

Today, of all days, is the day Bucky is going to meet the love of his life. Imagine his surprise when it turns out to be Captain America. Or: The Adventures of Bucky Barnes, the Shitty Psychic.

Lovecraft in Brooklyn* by littleblackfox (complete | 20,562 | E) *graphic violence

Bucky shrugs. “My brothers wish me dead. But I have claimed this world as mine, and should any dare approach I will slaughter them, and their progeny.” “Oh,” Steve says weakly. “Well, it’s tough coming from a large family.”

Part 1 of Lovecraft in Brooklyn

We Are Salmon in the Stream After Years At Sea* by littleblackfox (complete | 18,218 | E) *graphic violence

Steve sighs. “This creepy looking hobo cornered me in the store, spouting some shit about congress with an abomination.” Bucky bares his teeth. All of them. Even Steve finds it unsettling. “I will devour him.” “No!” Steve waves a finger under Bucky’s nose. “No eating people, remember.” “Rule number one,” Bucky grumbles. “No eating humans, or human-like things.” He gives Steve a sullen glare. “I will rend his foul tongue from his worthless form.” “Well, so long as you don’t eat it afterwards.”

Part 2 of Lovecraft in Brooklyn

sun falls moon lights by silentwalrus (oneshot | 1,726 | G)

'Tis the season.

Part 3 of Bucky Barnes Gets His Groove Back & Other International Incidents

back seat drive by silentwalrus (oneshot | 9,683 | E) (reread)

Bucky wants a car. Bucky gets a car. Now Bucky wants to blow Steve while he’s driving the car. It’s awful, how Steve just keeps giving him what he wants.

Part 1 of ridin'

under the hood by silentwalrus (oneshot | 17,007 | E)

Steve continues his terrible campaign of giving Bucky things. Bucky continues various terrible campaigns of his own.

Part 2 of ridin'

No Sacrifice Required* by cleo4u2, xantissa (oneshot | 8,722 | E) *graphic violence

Tentacle Gods: do not mix with Hydra.

Part 1 of Consentacles: Adventures of an Elder God

Tentacles in Love by cleo4u2, xantissa (oneshot | 10,119 | E)

No matter how Clint looked at it, the guy visiting Disneyland and window shopping while eating ice cream could not be the Winter Soldier, much less the reason for the trail of murder and mayhem he and Natasha were following. It couldn’t be the pretty, not-all-there companion either. But someone was leaving Hydra bodies, half-eaten and crushed, all along the Pacific seaboard. Someone who happened to be where the Winter Soldier and his pretty blond friend happened to be.

Part 2 of Consentacles: Adventures of an Elder God

Common Revelations and Other Catastrophes by maikurosaki, Stucky1980 (complete | 29,118 | E)

In retrospect, the moment it dawned on Bucky that he might be in love with his best friend wasn't really a big deal. In fact, as far as epiphanies went, this one was actually kind of underwhelming. Maybe Bucky had lived his whole life with the misconception that an epiphany was supposed to change him forever and doom him to a permanent state of revelation that would make him see clearly the pathway of his life.

What a bunch of crap!

Starlight* by Hopeless--Geek (wuzzy90), littleblackfox (complete | 50,707 | M) *graphic violence

There is no time. No time to process, no time to grieve. Steve pushes the horror, the guilt, down into the pit of his stomach, a lead weight that would crush him if he allowed it. The noise from the array distorts, changing in frequency as the light flares up, painfully bright. Steve turns away, shielding his eyes, and sees the Borg on the walkway before him move stiffly, its head still bowed. It slowly rises, lifting its head. The red laser sighted by its right eye strobes across Steve’s face as it turns towards him. It was human, once. It’s eyes a shade of blue that Steve hasn’t seen in half a lifetime.

I know you.

Hold My Hand Along The Shore by littleblackfox (oneshot | 5,284 | G)

So there were these two guys. They had never met, never spoken to each other, but one day one of them wrote a letter. If you held my hand, I would feel it.

Check, Mate? by talkplaylove-art (talkplaylove), wearing_tearing (oneshot | 1,938 | T)

A notification from Check, Mate? blinks back at him. Steve’s heart speeds up when he opens the app and then his face breaks into a blinding grin when sees what’s waiting for him.

James likes him back.

Part 1 of endgame

Part 5 of Happy Steve Bingo

Just About Half-Past Ten by rohkeutta (oneshot | 1,979 | T)

But as he reaches Madison Avenue, Stark Tower a mere block away, the skies open with a whoosh, and he barely manages to duck under the construction scaffolding perched over the sidewalk. Thunder rumbles overhead, and Bucky frantically checks every compartment of his bag for an umbrella he knowsis there.

It’s not. He does find some loose glitter, though, and a lipstick he wore for Pride and had thought he’d lost, plus a spare Metro Card he can’t remember buying.

He also gets a crystal clear flashback of leaving the umbrella under his desk to dry yesterday morning, and never picking it up again.

Leave Those Umbrellas At Home by rohkeutta (oneshot | 2,441 | T)

Bucky watches the watery snow come down and thinks about it, his mood deflating steadily. He imagines Steve going home the next morning, sitting down at his desk and opening his Super-Secret Sexcapade Journal and writing Bucky’s name in next to a carefully-thought Preparation & Performance Grade.

B+ for the effort to look nice naked, C- for being embarrassingly vanilla and wanting to do it face-to-face so he could scritch his fingers through Steve’s beard and hair. Not worth a repetition. Kinky Grade: F.

Bucky’s being uncharitable and he knows it, but Hangry Barnes can be a sad sack of shit when he wants to.

Get Scrooged by alby_mangroves, leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) (complete | 19,765 | T)

You'll be haunted by three spirits. The first is gonna come tomorrow when the bell tolls one. That's in the morning. The second's gonna come the next day at the same time, and the third, same again.

Bucky was keeping his head down in his tiny apartment in Bucharest, because that's what you did when you were a former brainwashed assassin and never knew who might be coming after you. You kept your head down, you didn't draw attention, and you tried real hard not to think about what you'd done, all while trying to piece together your fractured memory.

But it doesn't matter how down you keep your head—once the Bureau of Christmas Spirit has you in its sights, you're getting a visit from the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come. No appeal, no review, and you can't lock the doors and pretend you're not home.

Luckily for Bucky his Ghosts have their own agenda, but whatever happens...someone's getting Scrooged.

buachaill sciobail by silentwalrus (complete | 5,271 | not rated)

“Okay,” Sam says. “Okay. Alright. O-kay. I just, I gotta say, man, when you told me ‘Bucky is a selkie’ this is not... really…. what I... imagined.” “What did you imagine?” Steve says. Across his lap - or rather covering his entire body from the waist down - the eight hundred pound tube of blubber that is J.B. Barnes blows a snot bubble. 

Part 1 of barnacle boy

teach your man to fish by silentwalrus (oneshot | 12,835 | T)

Bucky doesn’t deign to stay in Stark Tower for much longer than it takes to completely clean out the kitchens’ fish supply. After slurping down the last oyster and sneering in disgust at the contents of the walk-in freezer, Bucky turns to Steve, pelt over his shoulder, and says, “Where do you live?”

Podfic available by the magnificent Quietnight!

Part 2 of barnacle boy

where the dread fern grows by silentwalrus (oneshot | 6,684 | G)

Sam's gotta buy a wedding present, and nothing but elf booze will do.

Part 1 of a greenhouse in brooklyn

march of the pumpkins by silentwalrus (oneshot | 2,380 | G)

Halloween in Brooklyn, bog witch style.

Part 2 of a greenhouse in brooklyn

Scenes From A Marriage: Mailbag by Speranza (complete | 17,908 | not rated)

This is the 4 Minute Window Advent calendar for 2018! As always, my goal is to tell a little bit of story each day (knock wood) between the Immaculate Conception and Christmas. Explicit eventually, the rest as it comes. This year's story features letters written, in world, to Captain America. If you want to write a letter to Cap, drop it in the comments or email me and I might use it (but no promises, because this is a terrifying tightwire act as it is.) Also feel free to request things you want to see and I'll see what I can do. Hope you enjoy: buckle up! 

Part 14 of 4 Minute Window

Wrecks My Nerves by castiowl (complete | 48,344 | E)

Honestly, all Bucky wants to do is win Hell's Kitchen so he can get out of his shitty apartment and be happy for once in his life, but then Steve is there and he's awful and wonderful and terrible and ruining everything. It's the Avengers: Hell's Kitchen!

The Big American Family Cooking Showdown by dearlydraupadi (complete | 11,066 | G)

Steve Rogers is a cameraman for the Big American Family Cooking Showdown. Bucky Barnes is a contestant along with his mother and sister. Steve Rogers can't stop filming Bucky Barnes' beautiful face. It's not long before the rest of the crew is getting annoyed, Bucky is getting a clue, and Steve is getting embarrassed. Welcome to the Big American Family Cooking Showdown!

Art for Art's Sake by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) (oneshot | 4,101 | T)

“But Professor Barnes is more fun,” Steve said, smiling wickedly, pressing the tip of one long finger to Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s brain flatlined at the contact, left him blinking down at Steve. Steve watched him for a bit, then his smile softened and he let his hand fall. “James, then. And you can explain what’s so fascinating about the painting.”

Bucky pulled himself together with an effort. “I think the artist who painted this was having some fun. Maybe he didn’t like the guy he was painting it for?” Steve looked at him sharply. Bucky didn’t quite know why, maybe he'd made some sort of art faux pas, but he pointed at the shadowy spot with the pigs. “Here. You can tell me if I’m imagining it.”

Steve leaned in, following the line of Bucky’s finger, one hand settling gracefully onto Bucky’s bicep for balance. His hand was warm, his long fingers strong and supple as they curled slightly, and Bucky swallowed hard and called himself nine kinds of idiot. He was a grown man, not some high school kid with a crush. Steve’s hand was on his arm, not anywhere interesting. This was stupid.

His suddenly racing heart seemed determined to ignore the message.

no matter how long the day is (i'll come home to you) by alby_mangroves, talkplaylove (oneshot | 27,769 | T)

Steve’s spent an hour along Portobello Road before he sees the paparazzi on the left side of the street, trying to be inconspicuous by a street lamp. He crosses the street and ducks into the first store he sees, tucked behind a screaming red door and under a blue and white striped awning.

He listens, feet planted in front of the door, shoulders tense, as he looks around the shop. Row upon row of books are on the shelves in front of him, the wood creaking under their weight. Behind the counter is a dark haired man wearing a jacket, elbow on the table, stubbled chin on one hand, gloved left hand flipping the pages of a book.

No one follows Steve in.

Or, the one where Captain America travels the world, learns how to be Steve Rogers again, and meets Bucky Barnes along the way. Also: the one where two old souls fall in love over young adult books, long distance calls, and texting at strange hours of the day.

The Heart of a Dying Star by layersofart (layersofsilence), velleities (complete | 38,200 | E)

As ancient legends have it, mighty magical weapons can be forged in the heart of a dying star.

Wanda, driven by her desire to avenge her brother’s death and backed by Hydra and their secret plans, uses ancient magic to knock a star down from the sky.

Halfway across the land, Steve, the Captain of the Avengers Guard, finds a fallen star named Bucky.

Mod Julia

Steve Rogers and the minefields of social media by cpt_winniethepooh (oneshot | 1,795 | T)

Steve gets a Twitter account, then an Instagram one, then he gets Bucky back, too.

Kissin' by the mistletoe (Love came to stay) by obsessivereader (oneshot | 4,949 | E)

“I told you,” Steve wheezes, as he tries to catch his breath. “Didn’t I fucking tell you we'd fall if you didn't quit pushing?”

He’d laugh if he had any air left in his lungs. Instead, all he can do is stare up at Bucky as the sound of his carefree laugh winds its way around Steve’s heart. He barely even registers the cold seeping in through his jacket and jeans as he lies in the snow, attention catching instead on the snowflake clinging to Bucky’s lashes. Were Bucky’s eyes always that luminous? The crinkles around his eyes so endearing? Were his lips always that pink?

Bucky’s laugh dies away at Steve’s continued silence. A strange expression settles on his face, like he’s looking into the face of a stranger for the first time, studying and cataloging Steve’s features one by one—eyes, nose, mouth.

Cafe Au Écoute by littlesystems (oneshot | 3,829 | T)

No matter where Steve goes, there's always the chance that he'll overhear a conversation about himself - or rather, Captain America. This coffee shop is no different. The fact that he keeps eavesdropping well past the point of plausible deniability is another matter entirely.

the audacity by mcwho (oneshot | 2,598 | M)

“I don’t know where you all got the idea that I was giving it to Steve with the lights off under the blankets in total silence by candlelight, but you’re all wrong. Wrong.”

Home is a Smell, Home is a Heartbeat by odetteandodile (oneshot | 3,633 | M)

Bucky cooks an old recipe of Sarah Rogers'.

Steve learns that sensory memory is a bitch.

It all comes out okay in the end.

Leave Those Umbrellas At Home by rohkeutta (oneshot | 2,441 | T)

Bucky watches the watery snow come down and thinks about it, his mood deflating steadily. He imagines Steve going home the next morning, sitting down at his desk and opening his Super-Secret Sexcapade Journal and writing Bucky’s name in next to a carefully-thought Preparation & Performance Grade.

B+ for the effort to look nice naked, C- for being embarrassingly vanilla and wanting to do it face-to-face so he could scritch his fingers through Steve’s beard and hair. Not worth a repetition. Kinky Grade: F.

Bucky’s being uncharitable and he knows it, but Hangry Barnes can be a sad sack of shit when he wants to.

Catch of the Day by Eremji (handsfullofdust) (oneshot | 4,680 | E)

Bucky’s not laughing at him, not where Steve can see, but after Thor gives Steve an appraising look, scratching his beard absently, and says with usual cheer, “You’re most fortunate. This enchantment is only temporary,” Bucky makes sure he’s not in Steve’s direct line of sight.

It's about par for the course that Steve Rogers get himself in all manner of trouble. A couple extra limbs are really no big deal.

all the words are gonna bleed from me by doctorenterprise (oneshot | 1,151 | M)

It’s been a long time since Steve felt such an unwavering, steady rage.

-

A brief, dark look into Steve's devotion to James Buchanan Barnes.

What Makes a Home by i_buchanan (oneshot | 14,788 | E)

Bucky's grateful to be living with Steve again. Grateful to have another chance to keep him close, regardless of the stress of keeping his feelings to himself. It would be a lot easier to do that, however, if Steve didn't seem intent on getting him more than he could think to ask for.

Long Live the Long Lost King by Kryptaria (oneshot | 1,980 | T)

Bucky had no idea he was royalty.

To be fair, it’s not like they had DNA tests and ancestry databases when he was a kid. But now? Turns out his sisters had kids, and their kids had kids, and someone got a multi-pack discount on DNA test kits.

I Can Say The Sun Burns Much Brighter Today by Kajmere (oneshot | 5,919 | T)

Over the years, Steve has learned to choose his battles wisely when it comes to arguing with Natasha. So, when she hands him a set of keys and says they’re dropping him off at one of her secure locations in the middle of Steve-can’t-even-remember, Europe, for a few days of rest, he puts up a fight for all of thirty seconds before resigning with a sigh.

Snow way out by TyrantTirade (oneshot | 17,161 | E)

The call barely goes through, Natashas voice lagging in and out until it becomes more clear. Steve hopes that it stays that way for at least a few minutes, long enough to figure out what to do to salvage the situation. So much for a winter vacation, he thinks.

“So,” he starts, “I think there's a blizzard here.”

two strangers in the bright lights by Claudia_flies (oneshot | 7,348 | E)

It really is an accident. Steve wouldn’t even call it a slip of the tongue, because what he said and the way it was heard were two different things.

christmas traditions by belovedmuerto (oneshot | 2,091 | T)

Bucky wants to know what they used to do at Christmas.

I got that good thing for you by canistakahari (oneshot | 5,830 | E)

When it comes down to it, Steve will do anything for Bucky. Even if that involves fulfilling a very specific seasonally-adjacent fantasy.

re:spite by steebadore (oneshot | 4,150 | T)

It starts, as most things do, with spite. The problem is, it doesn't end there.

A Tree for (Not Quite) Christmas by layersofsilence (oneshot | 4,348 | T)

Steve’s been up since three in the morning to deal with these assholes. All he wants now is to go back to their safehouse and nap until Tony picks them up.

Of course, he should've known better than to ruminate on that particular subject. As soon as the thought crosses his mind his peaceful bubble is absolutely and comprehensively shattered, first by the slam of a screen door and then by a small girl who barrels from her porch to crash headlong into Steve’s legs.

Undercover by glyphsbowtie (oneshot | 1,094 | T)

Steve Rogers says these words in a matter-of-fact tone that has Bucky nodding for a second, before he catches himself. “Wait- what? You're going to kick his ass?” The tiny man next to him nods. “I don't like bullies,” he shrugs. “Anyway, I thought I would let you know because I would hate for you to get hurt.” “Gee, thanks.” Bucky is staring in absolute shock at this adorable vigilante. “Um, has it not occurred to you to call the police, pal?”

territorial by mcwho (oneshot | 2,734 | E)

The thing about Steve Rogers is that he’s a jealous, possessive, Grade-A All-American asshole

[jamesbvck]

change your mind | six

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU, High School!Bucky) Summary: Senior Year: the last year to be a somebody or a nobody. A chance to fall in love, ace that final exam and make memories. After a terrible first impression, Bucky makes it his mission to fix the mistake he made with the new girl. Will they get their chance? Warnings: swearing, more cliche high school things, flashbacks A/N: hi! since january was only three days, there are some flashbacks to random days in january! feedback is encouraged :)

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There were moments when you were on cloud nine; moments that your heart soared and your stomach was swarmed with fluttering butterflies. And then there were other times when you were second guessing everything. There was still slight hesitation and reservations that you had with Bucky and sometimes you wanted to pull the plug and call off...whatever you two were anyway. There weren’t any major red flags but there were still times when you could convince yourself that Bucky wasn’t the right guy for you, that somewhere along the line everything would just crumble. It had barely been a month and you knew that was nothing.

Your classes had changed up for the new semester and you didn’t have any classes with Bucky. He had a free period and moved his schedule around so he could sleep in during first which was pretty smart. But it was okay. You had another class with Steve which was math, and you shared fourth period co-ed gym with Clint and Sam which already proven to be quite the adventure. Those two could be amusing to hang around, especially when you’d turn to run a third lap of the gym with sweat beading down your forehead and on the verge of collapsing, and Clint offers to piggyback you around for the next two laps. Your gym teacher, Mr Lang, really didn’t seem to care much. He always had coffee and some sort of snack with him and half assed the class. It was going to be a breeze.

You did miss history class with Bucky, though. Not so much Mr Pierce, but just the routine of the morning and Bucky annoyingly prodding you with his pencil. It wasn’t all bad, even though he had first period free, he’d get up and drive you to school when it was super snowy. You had told him it wasn’t necessary but Bucky was Bucky and would be at your front door fifteen minutes before school started. Sometimes Becca would be in the backseat, eagerly waving from the window.

Homework dates seemed to be a more frequent thing. Bucky would come over after school and you’d both sit with the TV on, eat some snacks and do homework. Those times would start off with homework but sometimes you’d both find yourself on the couch a little less interested in fundamental learning.

Bucky’s phone had been vibrating nonstop for the last thirty minutes. He’d pick it up and feverishly reply back, setting it face down on the coffee table. You nonchalantly peaked at him as he sat on the couch and you were on the floor with your own work. His brows were tightly knit together and face contoured with discontent.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You set your pencil down in your math textbook, rotating yourself to face him.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing,” you countered. “You’ve been working on the same question for a half hour, I don’t even think you’ve written anything new down.”

Bucky sighed deeply, dropping his own pen down and leaned back on the couch. He rubbed the side of his chin as you got up and took the open cushion next to him. “My dad was supposed to come back from a work trip tonight but I guess he decided to fly from Sacramento to Dallas instead for something else.”

“How long has he been away for?”

“A week? Haven’t really countdown the days since I was thirteen. He’s going to miss Julia’s little play at school on Thursday and he was supposed to be at Abby’s parent-teacher interview.”

You got the sense that Bucky’s father seemed to be more absent than not. It made you wonder how Winifred handled four kids on her own, but you supposed none of them were babies and they could all manage to help each other out. It had been just you and your mother for a while and you grew up a little fast having to fend for yourself. You really couldn’t imagine how it must have been a few years ago when everyone was younger and their father went away for a long period of time. Sure, he was providing for the family but family was important too.

“My dad got me into football, right. Well, my dad and my uncle and they taught Steve and I how to play. Dad and I would throw around the ball in the backyard until it was dark. At first it was just for fun then I started to really love it, and I worked hard at it. He’d take me to every youth league practice and game, and if I had a shit game he’d say there’s nothing wrong with trying your best.”

Bucky was rambling and you let him. It sounded like he needed to get some things off his chest anyway and you wouldn’t interrupt him.

“But then Steve’s mom would have to drive me, or I’d have to figure out a way to get there because my mom was taking care of my sisters. My dad got a promotion at the tech company he works for in the city and he started flying around. It was cool for a bit but then he stopped coming to games,” Bucky took a second to breathe. “I did a six week training camp last summer. It was thirty minutes away in Warrior Falls so I’d either have to bus or sometimes Clint or Steve would drive me. Came home one night and there was that Jeep in the driveway and my dad handed me the keys. We didn’t say anything, he just pat my shoulder and went back into the house.”

It was quiet for a few moments. You knew you probably didn’t need to say anything, that simply letting Bucky vent for a minute was enough. His phone vibrated again. You reached over and handed it to him seeing Becca’s name flash across the screen with an eye roll emoji. It wasn’t just affecting Bucky but his sisters, too. Sure, perhaps Bucky and Becca weren’t surprised by it but it wasn’t fair to Julia and Abby who were younger. Bucky cleared the message and set his phone aside.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

You blinked in confusion. “For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bucky shrugged. His arm went around the back of the couch and pulled you into his side. He didn’t reply and you didn’t focus on an explanation. But there was the pattern of Bucky seemingly apologizing for nothing sometimes, pre-preventing himself from being some sort of bad guy which you had grown to learn he was rather the opposite. You rested into him, closing your eyes. Homework could wait.

You wandered to your locker after your sleepy first period class. You weren’t too into world geography but it wasn’t the worst class ever. A girl that was in your history class was in this class and you sat beside her, she was nice. The hallways were decorated with cut out hearts and pink and white streamers. There were bistol board signs with large, bold lettering indicating that Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. You could send candy grams and/or roses to your crush or friends. You stopped by one of the tables in the main foyer and forked over ten dollars to get six, one for each of your friends.

You took them with you to your locker having decided on to personalize them for each person. You stuck them into your notebook and retrieved your math book. A tingle shot up your back as a gentle hand touched your waist. Your eyes flickered to your left seeing Bucky with a pink nose from the cold and the black beanie situated on his head was dusted with snow. He was still dressed for the outdoors having not been to his locker yet.

“It’s fucking cold.” Bucky sniffed.

“Maybe you should invest in an actual winter jacket,” you said, brushing the snow off the shoulders of his lettermans jacket. “And I don’t know, maybe a scarf? Gloves? Proper winter garments?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You sound like my mother.”

“Don’t come crying to me when you get sick.”

He smiled cheekily. You closed your locker and began the daily routine of Bucky walking you to second period as it was by his end of the school. Your hand bumped against his cold one as you strolled, Bucky telling you about how his dad has gotten home late last night. Apparently breakfast had been quiet, only mouths chewing and his father, George, reading the morning paper. Winifred had made a stack of pancakes, bacon, and eggs.

You gave Bucky a half smile. At least his dad was home for a few days, that was something.

You stopped at your math room, turning to face Bucky. “Guess I’ll see you at lunch. Think pizza’s on the menu today.”

“Pizza’s always on the menu.” He chuckled.

“Hats off, Mr Barnes.” Mr Pym was on a mission as he walked by with his briefcase and a stack of papers in hand. But he still had time to make sure students followed the code of conduct.

Bucky pulled off his beanie, “Sorry, sir.” He replied, waiting until Pym was around the corner. Bucky took his hat and neatly adjusted it so it was perfectly slouching on the crown of your head. “Looks better on you anyway.”

You reached up to touch the wool and smiled. “If I get in trouble it’s going to be your fault.”

“You won’t. I promise, only the elderly care about the hat rule.”

The bell rang causing other kids to scurry to their next class. Bucky was already going to be late to his English class. Bucky leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Your insides tangled with a fuzzy feeling. He waved and you wiggled your fingers back, slipping into the classroom. Steve trailed into the room with his backpack on his shoulder, taking up the seat next to you.

“You into beanies now?” He asked, unzipping his bag.

You smiled to yourself. “Maybe so.”

“Looks familiar, think I’ve seen it before.” You could hear the teasing in Steve’s voice.

A blush crept onto your cheeks, shaking your head as you flipped open to a fresh lined page in your notebook. Maybe you were into more than just the beanie.

You spent the entire class half paying attention and half doodling on the candy gram cards. You finished five out of the six, unsure of what to write on Bucky’s. It didn’t need to be anything serious. You tapped your eraser against the top of the desk with the bell drawing you out of your thoughts. You glanced over at Steve as he was closing his books and stuck his pencil behind his ear.

“Coming to lunch, or are you going to endure another round of math?” Steve grinned.

“I don’t even know what the lesson was today.” You admitted, getting out of your chair.

Steve slung his bag over his shoulder. “Maybe that beanie’s on too tight.”

You knocked shoulders with him as you exited the classroom and headed to your lockers. Peggy stood beside your locker since her Economics class was just a few doors down. She waved with a grand smile on her face.

“Heard a rumour in class today.” Peggy said.

“What kind of rumours swirl around Econ? How the American economy is collapsing? That’s nothing new.” You spun your padlock and unlocked your locker, shoving your books up on the top shelf. You took Peggy’s to store in there for now, too.

“No— well, yes— But these girls in the back of the class were gossiping like they usually do,” she started walking after you got your wallet and closed up your locker. “Apparently one of them is working the candy gram station and said Bucky stopped by and bought a pretty penny’s worth of the roses to send out.”

You arched a brow at Peggy. “That’s the hot gossip?”

She shrugged and laughed. “It is when you’re not the girl receiving them. Right, Nat?” Peggy called out to Natasha who was waiting by the stairs. She glanced up from her phone. “Roses are a big deal around here.” Peggy repeated.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “They’re flowers. You can buy them at the grocery store.”

“It’s the thought that counts.” Peggy beamed, practically skipping into the cafeteria.

“Steve’s sent her a rose every year,” Natasha walked alongside you. “Can’t even imagine what gushy thing he’ll do this time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. At least they were actually a couple this time around. Steve was already in line with Sam. Peggy squeezed her way in between them with Steve’s arm going around her as an automatic response to her presence. You and Natasha stood behind some freshmen girls in line who were whispering (and failing) about Steve and Sam. You snickered to yourself as they chatted about how attractive both boys were with Natasha sighing loudly with a short laugh.

It was a short wait before you grabbed your pizza and a carton of chocolate milk, heading to your usual table. You pulled out a chair and bellied yourself up against the table, beginning to eat. Clint and Bucky joined with cold air rolling off their bodies from the bitter outside weather. The smell of smoke stuck to their clothes and you wonder how in the hell they could stand outside in such frigid conditions. Bucky slung his arm around the back of your chair as he drove into a conversation with Steve. Contently you listened and munched on your cheesy pizza, eyes lingering around the room.

You stopped on Connie four tables over. She had a straw biting between her teeth as she sipped on ginger ale, and she was staring directly at you. Her face was scornful and you feared looking at her too long would turn you to stone. You blinked your gaze away, mindlessly adjusting Bucky’s beanie on your head.

It wasn’t a topic that you wanted to bring up. Hell, you didn’t want to talk about it ever. And you certainly didn’t want to bring it up at the championship party for the Valhalla Panthers. They were now crowned five-time New York State champions after their defeat over Xander High. The atmosphere had been electrifying with the crowd storming the field. Truly it was one of the most exhilarating moments you had ever witnessed. You mooned over the fact that they had won.

But there was a speed bump in the way of the right direction and you had to get over it. The low feeling had been eating at you ever since you walked into the party. You weren’t sure whose house this was but it was crammed with people and the trophy was on full display in the living room of the house. This wasn’t the right place with drinks flowing and thick air circulating. Your phone was clinched in your hand, vibrating twice with a new text message. You turned it over with the screen lighting up seeing Bucky’s name and him asking if you had arrived yet. You didn't need any direction to find him. You could hear Clint’s laughter from the kitchen off around the corner and you knew he’d be somewhere over there. Sure, enough he was.

Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand and a childish grin on his lips. He looked so elated and slightly relieved. Sam was perched up on the island shoving his hand into a bag of Doritos and Steve was humbled by it all. You put on your happy face because truthfully you were and weaved through until you got to Bucky. One of his arms went around your shoulders in a half hug and you pressed yourself to his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“We won!” He whispered against the side of your head.

“I know, Buck,” You laughed softly. “I’m happy for you.”

You pulled back slightly feeling a few nerves build up in the pit of your stomach. You looked up at Bucky whose thrilled expression transitioned into one of concern. Clearly your face was giving away more than you had hoped.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. You were mute and instead took his hand to bring him to another room, one more quiet and vacant. “Hey-- did something happen?”

You sighed, leaving the door to a small room open. “I really should just wait until tomorrow but I can’t and I don’t want to ruin your big night.”

Bucky’s brow pulled together. “You’re not going to ruin my night. I’d honestly rather be sitting in Clint’s basement with my friends and you rather than be here.”

You smiled briefly, wrapping your arms around your frame. “Some girls sitting behind Peggy, Nat and I at the game were talking about you and saying shit like how you cheated on Connie with me. Peggy told me to ignore it but it’s kind of hard too. I know we’re just figuring this out still but… Were you dating Connie when I started here?”

Bucky visibly became uncomfortable with the conversation and you wanted to take back everything you had just said to him. His fingers combed through the front of his hand as his weight shifted from leg to leg. “No. We’ve never… dated. Not really.”

“Not really?”

He sighed. “Connie’s liked me since the tenth grade, and yeah I kinda liked her back for a while too but we’ve never actually dated. We’d hang out and stuff but the more I’d hang out the more I knew we wouldn’t really work out. She kind of became a person I went to when I wanted to be alone but not totally.”

Your arms moved up to fold across your chest, a firm line forming on your lips. You didn’t know Bucky two years ago, you didn’t know anything.

“Did you talk to her about your dad?” You asked.

“Sometimes.” He shrugged. You nodded. “I told her in November that I didn’t think we should really hang out anymore. Didn’t really give her a reason but she was smart enough to figure out why.”

You were the why.

“Nat said that the only reason she wants to be with you is because she thinks you’re going to go pro.” You told him.

Bucky chuckled. “She did suddenly get very into football when we started talking,” his head shook. “What did she say to you on New Years? You never told me.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, debating on whether to spill it or not. Did that part even matter? You had faith in you and Bucky. “She said you’ll get easily bored with girls like me. I’ve got your attention now but give it another week and you’ll crawl your way back to her.”

Bucky’s head was shaking frantically. “No. I’m not--” He paused, humming lowly. He took a few steps towards you. “That’s not going to happen. She’s trying to get under your skin.”

“Kinda worked. I ignored you for most of the night.”

“I don’t want to be with Connie, you know that, right?” You nodded, leaning back against the wall. “I’m sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.” You murmured, taking his hand and laced your fingers together. “I just… don’t want her to cause a problem.”

“She won’t. I promise.” Bucky gave a half smile. You matched his smile and nodded. He lifted your chin a little higher, lips locking in a soft kiss. You let go of his hand, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer to you.

Thursdays typically dragged on for what seemed like forever. You weren’t sure why but it always seemed like the clock ticked a little slower. It was a struggle to keep your eyes open in geography and more often than not your head bobbed in a short snooze. The bell was your indicator to move on to your next class. Everyone seemed rather giddy since it was Valentine’s Day. Truthfully you never understood the commercialized holiday (plus it wasn’t even a true holiday where you got the day off), but it made people smile so it was something to someone.

You and Bucky had agreed not to do anything, at least nothing big. You had sent him a candy gram along with your friends, but that was something small and lighthearted. Student council was handing out treats in the main area and there was a bake sale going on throughout the day. You grabbed a pink cupcake along the way to math, humming as you went. Steve was already in his seat with a brownie.

“It’s the day of love, Steven.” You mused.

He chuckled. “So I’ve been told. This little girl that lives across the street from me went up and down our road giving every family a Valentine card and brownies this morning.”

That had to be one of the sweetest things you had ever heard. You smiled and set your books down, unwrapping the liner of your cupcakes and took a bite. It was plain vanilla but still tasty. Peggy had been preparing all week for her date with Steve. Apparently there was a new exhibit in the MET that Peggy had been hinting at to the point where Clint told Steve to buy her tickets so she’d shut up about it. It worked. So Peggy had you over almost every night to help her pick the right outfit which ended up being the one she had tried on the Monday night.

Math was more of a catch up period as there had been a substitute in for the last two days. You idly worked on the assigned questions in your textbook, some kids didn’t do anything and were on their phones or talking about anything but math. There was a knock on the door and the kid in the front of the class got up to answer it. Two student council members walked in both wearing pink shirts. The girl was holding a basket of candy grams and the boy had a handful of roses in his hand. They began going around the classroom and gave out the gifts.

Steve got a few. There was one from Peggy, of course, the one from you which he laughed at, and two secret admirer ones. You wiggled your eyebrows as he ripped the Hershey’s kisses off the cards to eat.

“Here you go, Rogers.” The boy handed Steve a rose. You perked up as he took it.

“Peggy sent you a rose?” You asked.

“No. It’s from Bucky. He think he’s funny and had bought one since freshman year. He even drew a heart on the card this time, how thoughtful.” Steve was snickering as you swiped the card out of his hand. It was pure humour.

To: Steven G Rogers Just ‘cause you actually got the girl doesn’t mean you’re not getting a rose. - Buck ♥

You shook your head, smiling to yourself and placed the card back on Steve’s desk. The girl came around and placed three grams on your desk: Peggy, Sam and a half assed one from Natasha and Clint combined.

“And these are for you.” The boy extended his hand holding six roses. Your brows shot up.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Positive.”

You cautiously took the roses feeling a few eyes on you and hear a few whispers. You opened the first card seeing Bucky’s handwriting. There was one simple word written: Smile. You blinked and began opening the rest of the little cards seeing a single word on each: Laugh. Nose. Smarts. Funny. Everything.

You smiled to yourself feeling your cheeks warm in a blush. You wanted to tell him he was an idiot but you refrained, basking in the small moment of affection. Commercialized or not, it did make you feel giddy.

You jiggled holding your books and carrying the flowers to your locker. You were speed walking back to your locker so you could quickly put away your things and find Bucky. Peggy was there with her own rose in hand.

“So the rumour was true,” she motioned to the roses. “Who knew Bucky could be a romantic.”

“Hold these.” You gave her the flowers and tucked your books under your arm. Your fingers dialled through your lock combo, unclasping and opening the door.

A loud pop sounded startling those around you. Your heart was racing, body frozen as pink, red and white dust floated around in the air. Slowly you looked down at yourself seeing paint splattered to your front and a coating of chalk dust. It was everywhere: face, chest, legs, arms, hands. Peggy had her hands covering her mouth with a few paint hits on her clothing. Voices were murmuring with some phones out snapping pictures. Your books dropped to the floor as you wiped the paint away from your eyes and mouth.

There was some muffled laughter coming from down the hallway. You glanced over seeing Connie and her doll-like friends and a few jocks sniggering behind her.

“Oh, that’s for sure going to stain.” Connie quipped.

Your body heat was rising at an incredible rate from humiliation and anger. Peggy sharply turned on her heel, dropping the roses and marched her way over to Connie.

Connie straightened up, arms firmly folded across her chest with pursed lips.

“How childish can you be? Something doesn’t go your way so you hurt others?” Peggy’s voice was loud as she stormed over to the other girl. “Get over yourself! The only person that looks bad right now is you.”

“Do I Peggy? I’m not the one covered in paint.” Connie mused.

Peggy got closer.” You’re a pathetic bitch—“

Sam swooped in between Peggy and Connie before physical contact was made. He gently moved Peggy back telling her to relax.

“Carter. Anderson. Fury’s office now!” Mr Pierce broke through a cluster of students. He glanced to you, pointing. “You as well.”

Your teeth grinded together. You collected your books off the ground, shoving them into your locker and slammed the door shut. You followed behind the others and Pierce down to the main office.

Your fingers curled and uncurled as you sat in a cushioned chair in Principal Fury’s office. Peggy, Connie and you each had a good foot in between each other and no talking was allowed. Peggy was still steaming and Connie looked like a perfect princess as she sat checking her nails. You could cuss Connie to the moon but that still wouldn’t amount to anything.

It was silent, nothing but the clock on the wall ticking.

The door to Fury’s office opened and shut. His footsteps were loud and hard on the ground. Three student files were tossed onto his neatly organized desk. Your manila covered folder was on top with Peggy’s and Connie’s underneath. Fury stood behind his desk with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Valhalla does not accept bullying at any level. We are a community who help others,” the man in charge started. “Miss Carter, I can assume you would not like a strike on your perfect record? Brown, Dartmouth, and Cornell are the schools you applied to, correct?”

“That’s correct, sir. But I don’t believe I’ve done anything wrong. I was standing up for my friend who was bullied by the other person in this room.” Peggy was matter of fact, a stern nod.

“Can you prove Miss Anderson did this?”

Peggy blinked. “I— No.”

Fury hummed, flipping open your file and scanned it over. “Five schools in seven years? Three high schools in four.”

You didn’t want to be in this room. You wish you could teleport to anywhere but here. “My mom and I move a lot.”

“Why’s that?”

You looked up from your lap, tipping your head to the side. “I don’t think that’s relevant to me getting sprayed by paint, sir.”

Fury nodded, turning his attention to Connie. “What were you doing at her locker, Miss Anderson?”

“My biology class is down that hallway, Mr Fury. I was just trying to walk back to my locker to go to lunch.” Connie’s tone was sweet like sugar, oozing with fabricated remarks.

There wasn’t anyway you could flat out prove Connie had set this up. But you knew in your bones that she was the mastermind behind it. Maybe she got one of the dumb basketball jocks to help her out. Either way it was sounding like nothing was going to be resolved right then and there. The office was going to start an “investigation” to see what they could find. Fury was continuing basic questions that weren’t assisting to the incident. Your time was wasting and the paint was drying to your skin and now ruined clothes.

In a quick motion you got up from the chair and flung open the door. Your feet moved quicker than you mind with Fury’s voice a distance away calling for you to come back. You had enough of Connie, enough of her jealous antics. It felt like a game and you were a be played wrong.

“Mr Barnes, I can’t let you and Mr Rogers into the office.”

“Just listen for a sec, Miss Hill--”

Vice Principal Hill and Bucky’s voices collided. He was arguing and she was trying to turn him away at the front desk. You kept walking, not even making eye contact. There was a break in Bucky’s voice when he caught sight of you. He got to the door before you did, grabbing your arm to halt you. His hands cupped your stained face, concern flickering through his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You pushed his hands away. “I’m covered in fucking paint, Bucky,” you glanced past him seeing Steve stare down at his feet. Your shoulders trembled in a sigh, closing your eyes. “Take me home.”

Bucky opened the office door and walked out after you. He shrugged off his letterman and draped it over your shoulders. You were pretty sure the paint probably wrecked your belongings. You and Bucky exited through the side door to the student parking lot. Not a word was said to his car or during the car ride to your home. You eyes stayed focused on the window. All you could smell was paint and chalk. He parked and you jumped out into the snow. You went around to the back of the house, opening the back door and went inside. It was quiet and you were grateful your mother took an afternoon shift at the hospital.

You shedded Bucky’s jacket and discarded your shoes. He followed you like a ghost, keeping his mouth zipped but you knew he wanted to ask you a million and a half questions. Immediately you turned on the shower upstairs, getting a dark towel and gathered fresh clothes from your room. You disappeared into the bathroom leaving him in your bedroom.

The water was warm as it dripped down your skin. The paint swirled at the bottom around the drain. At least it was coming off. You scrubbed your skin and your face free of the paint. You didn’t know how long you were in the shower until the water started to run cool and your were pruning. You dried yourself off and sat on the edge of the tub. One of the sweaters that you always worn was destroyed, the jeans were maybe salvageable. You tugged on the clean clothes and checked in the mirror to make sure there was no red or pink on your face before exiting the bathroom.

Bucky was sat at the edge of the bed, phone in hand. His head lifted when you closed the door.

“Do you know if Peggy’s alright?” You asked.

“Steve says she’s not in trouble but she’s pissed.” He said.

“Yeah, that makes two of us.” You sat down next to him, burying your face into your hands. “You can go back. Make it in time for your next class.”

“I’m not going back. Think you’re more important than English and weight lifting.” Bucky gently removed your hands. The back of your eyes prickled but it wasn’t worth spilling tears over Connie Anderson. She didn’t deserve that kind of satisfaction.

You pulled the sleeves down over your hands of the light sweater you had put on. “This is stupid right, everything about this is stupid?” You looked over at Bucky. “Does she actually think I’m going to cave in?”

Some part of you wanted to cave only because of how Connie was acting over a guy that didn’t even like her back anymore. Bucky had moved on and it was best she did too. She was stuck in a fantasy.

“I’ll talk to her.”

You gave him a look, shaking your head. “Because that worked so well the last time, right?” You didn’t mean to be so harsh to Bucky but realistically what more could he do, what more could anyone say?

Bucky enveloped you in his arms, pulling you back to lay on the bed. He murmured an apology, one that he didn’t need to say but that’s just how he was. And at the end of the day, he was with you.

“Hey Happy, can you get us two chocolate milkshakes and two burgers for me and my girl here.” Bucky shrugged off his jacket and occupied the chair across from you.

You dusted the snow off yourself, unzipping your jacket and removed your gloves. Happy’s was half vacant, a hum of voices chatting and the TV behind the bar top on to the New York Rangers game. You glanced over at the burly man who owned the diner as he began to make the milkshakes and place in the order for food.

“Heard there was boys movie night tonight.” You said to Bucky.

He nodded, “Yeah decided to ditch it. Besides, Stevie will probably ditch halfway to go see Peggy so no one can be mad at me.”

You smiled lightly as the two milkshakes were placed in front of you. The whipped cream was homemade and spiralled upward high with a cherry on top. You licked some of the cream off the straw and popped the cherry into your mouth. Bucky leaned back in his chair, gazing over at the TV for a few moments to watch the hockey game. From what you understood this was a date, well, you had been to Happy’s plenty of times but there were usually five other people accompanying. Plus Bucky had loosely indicated it was one, a “food date” as he called it. His attention turned to you, the fluorescent lights didn’t do his blue eyes enough justice.

He cracked a smile at your unintentional staring. Your eyes flickered to the table, moving your milkshake glass closer to you. “Isn’t it counteractive to get a milkshake when it’s cold outside?”

“Maybe,” he replied. “But it’s a rule that you have to get one when you’re here.”

“Yeah? Says who?”

“Me.”

Of course, you laughed to yourself. You sipped on the ice cream drink, lashing fluttering as you peered over at Bucky. You had nerves bubbling in the pit of your stomach. The entire week your mind had been swirling from the kiss to bowling to now. You had accepted the fact that yes, you had a crush on Bucky Barnes and it wasn’t going to go away any time soon.

“I like your laugh, you know.” Bucky commented nonchalantly.

One of your brows arched. “You like my laugh?” He confirmed with a nod. You shifted in your seat and stirred around the milkshake. “What else do you like about me?”

Admittedly you were curious because out of everyone in Valhalla, somehow Bucky was struck by you.

“Busting down the gate with a heavy question,” he joked lightly. “I like your smile, I like that you’re funny and can take a joke especially hanging around Clint. You’re smart, real smart. And I like your nose.”

Your head tipped. “You like my nose?”

“Yeah, I like your nose.” He replied, picking up a spoon to scoop some ice cream out of the glass. “I like everything about you.”

Your stomach flipped upside down. He didn’t even know everything about you but you were sinking in the feeling. Happy startled you as he came around with two red baskets that had your burger and fries. You smiled politely, saying thank you as you took the ketchup bottle. Bucky was already a quarter into his burger by the time you had eaten three fries.

You still had your cautious guard but for now you’d wade in the waves.

Friday was a bust. You didn’t get out of bed, nor did you have the will to go to school. After you mother had heard what happened with Connie, she had taken it upon herself to call Fury to give him a piece of her mind. You could hear her stern talk from the kitchen all the way up behind your closed bedroom door. You rolled over, covering your ears with the pillow.

By Monday morning your anger had passed. Your things had been moved into Peggy’s locker a hallway over since yours was still covered in the festive paint. There were a few stares in the hallway as you walked on by fellow students. You kept your head held high and ignored everything around you. Steve gave you a short hug upon your arrival to math but spoke nothing of the situation which you silently thanked him for. It was better to move on instead of moping about it.

Bucky was there outside of the classroom when the bell rang having dipped class early. You gave him a small smile, storing your books in his locker.

“Do you wanna eat here or do you want go out?” He asked.

He had hesitancy in his voice wondering whether it was a good idea to go into the cafeteria where Connie would be. You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers together and moved forward to the lunch area. Some freshmen shuffled out of the way as you strolled in with Bucky. Your table was claimed already by Sam and Natasha, Sam waving you over.

“Go ahead, I’ll be a sec.” You let go of Bucky’s hand.

You pivoted on your heel and set straight in the direction of Connie’s table. The laughter coming from the table died down as your approached the table. You took at glance at the kids before settling your sharp eye on Connie.

“Connie,” you faux smiled. “I wanted to thank you. I want to thank you for spraying me paint in front of fifty kids and humiliating me. I felt so bad at first for myself but then I realized I feel bad for you. I am so sorry that you think you have to do things like this because your self esteem is so poor. Maybe if you were a little nicer your ugly wouldn’t be on the outside like it is on the inside. So thank you, Connie, and stay away from my friends, me, and my boyfriend.”

Connie’s eyes were glaring like daggers, her fingers gripping her drink with enmity. You twisted back to see Bucky still standing where you had left him with Steve, Peggy, and Clint. Peggy had a smug grin on her face, waving to Connie in spite.

“Are we just going standing here or going to eat lunch?” You asked them.

“After you, m’lady.” Clint motioned courteously.

You led the way to the food line, Bucky’s arm slinging over your shoulder. “So, boyfriend?”

“Status pending.” You pushed his side, smiling. He stopped you before the line, a longing look in his eye before he firmly pressed his lips to yours. Your smile grew bigger. Status approved.

bucky list: @buckychrist @bvcks @lila-bard @stanclub @stardustparker @buckybarnesppreciationsociety @sweetwaterprincess @demongirl0913 @queenlydias @dontpanc @kingsebstan  @cauraphernelia @yourwonderbelle @beauty-who-doesnt-need-a-beast @bleedlikerubies @fallenaristocat @bubblybuckybarnes @my-world97 @mystic-scripture @ragnarokbarnes @kali-rambles @pao-prazz @thorins-queen-of-erebor @eventyyr @abbadontherisingqueen @lovinglokiforever @justasimpleassbitch @red-wallflowers @brooklynightsky @hellaqueerangelofthelord @yknott81 @rvmanova @blame-the-russo-bros@buckybarneshairpullingkink @laurfangirl424 @buckyparkerish @sarcasticallysarah

CYM *tags open*: @villainsaremorerelatable @akamaiden @sofreakinmanyfandoms @smolbeanthings @autumnstarks @memory-of-a-goldfish @lizfawn @moonstruckhargrove @moonbeambucky@csigeoblue @sgtbookybarnes @marco-hvittyvik @tempestistired @trust-me-im-joly @in-the-potterhead-know @foenixphire @sergeantbannerbarnes @wi-atch-recs

[otome-baka]

Iba’s Merry & Chaotic Christmas

It is finally time for this Secret Santa to unleash her birthday present! Oh wait...no that’s wrong...CHRISTMAS PRESENT! Yeah that’s it. Anyway this Secret Santa’s special gift is for @lawfulstars. And a special thank you to @hakuokisecretsanta2018  mods Bea & Chi for putting together this fun holiday event! I hope you all enjoy and thanks to Yamazaki’s ninja skills! [okay enough joking around] It’s pretty long so to officially read the fiction ‘keep reading’. I don’t want you all to get bombarded by a bunch of text. I am sorry if there were any errors in advance...while I was editing yesterday I got word that my aunt passed away a few hours ago. I’ll be alright I promise. I hope this story puts a smile on your face.

December 1868

Ezo was overflowing with snow and Chizuru was watching the snow fall. There was little she could do around the compound. She ran errands when available, and she would bring tea to everyone to warm up their spirits. When there was nothing else to do she would watch the snowfall and reflect her times back in Kyoto with the Shinsengumi. Chizuru was daydreaming getting into a snowball fight with Shinpachi, Harada, and Heisuke. The moment with them in the snow was so much w. Or the time she made a snow bunny for Saito. Remembering the moments made her smile even though it hurts. Before she meddled into her memories too much she walked around the compounds to find if there was anything she can do. Everyone seemed to be busy with meetings for their next move for the war.

           Chizuru went inside where it was warm and ran into Souma and Nomura who were discussing about an object they were holding. She stepped closer.

           “Hey Nomura, hey Souma, what are you two looking at?” Chizuru asked.

           “Hi Chizuru, um, actually I am not sure what this thing even is to be honest…” Souma responded.

           “It’s something foreign, I have never seen this thing before. Enomoto and Otoro probably knows because they were in these boxes not too long ago. They were discussing something, most likely for a party or something,” Nomura expressed his thinking.

           “It looks strange, yet pretty. I wonder what it is called. And what’s it for?” Chizuru replied curiously.

           Chizuru, Nomura, and Souma decided to investigate the boxes that were in the meeting room. There were more strange decorations, and other objects that confused them more. The only thing that made since to them was the sake and foreign alcohol. Chizuru looked at all the objects and tried to organize them as best she could as the other two were shaking the empty box wondering if there was anything else that was in there.

           “Hm? What is with all this shiny stuff in the box…now it’s all over my uniform.” Nomura sighed as he tried to get the glitter off his uniform before Hijikata has a fit.

           “Oh!” Someone gasped as someone entered the room.

           “Ah…spoiling the surprise…you naughty kids.” Otoro playfully chastised.

           “Otoro-san, what is all this stuff if I may ask?” Chizuru questioned.

           “It was supposed to be a surprised. I might as well explain. It is a holiday they celebrate overseas in certain countries called, Christmas.” Otoro said.

           “Christmas?” Souma asked.

           “What is that?” Nomura was confused.

           “In December, the foreigners celebrated a holiday called Christmas. They say it’s the most wonderful time of the year. They have festivities such as ice skating, snowball fights, decorate their homes, families cook all kinds of foods, tell stories, all kinds of stuff. It was Enomoto’s fault really. He thought why not give it a try.” Otoro looked pained as he tried to explain.

           Chizuru was curious about this mysterious holiday that foreigners celebrated. She listened carefully to what Otoro’s explanation on Christmas. She even insisted on decorating the room for the party and convinced Souma and Nomura to join her. Otoro helped instruct how to set up the decorations. The place is looking festive and pretty.

           “I did not know Christmas was so pretty and decorating would be so much fun. Thank you, Souma and Nomura for helping me,” Chizuru bowed.

           “Ah, but there is still more to do, especially for you Chizuru,” Otoro replied with a mysterious smile on his face.

           “Eh?” Chizuru was confused.

Otoro handed Chizuru an outfit that he wanted her to wear. He said it would be comfortable for her. Chizuru headed to her bedroom and opened the box and looked at the outfit. It seemed nice and warm as she removed her uniform to put the other outfit on. Red, white, and green was the colors main theme of the outfit. There was a note in the box that read: Avoid Iba. She struggled with the buttons, but she managed to put the outfit on. She looked at the mirror and double checked her coat and pants. The tiny bells jingled as she moved her arms and legs, but outfit was comfortable regardless. In the back of her mind she looked ridiculous. She left her room and saw Hijikata and Enomoto as they were talking. The noise of the bells distracted them as they looked at Chizuru who was trying to avoid them. Hijikata stared wide-eyed as Enomoto tried to hide his satisfaction.

           “Chizuru…is that you?” Hijikata asked confused.

           “Yes…? Is my outfit terrible?” Chizuru was worried.

           “On the contrary, you look cute if I do say so myself, doesn’t she Hijikata?” Enomoto beamed with excitement.

Hijikata remained silent and closed his eyes. Chizuru felt Hijikata disapproved of it but instead…

           “She does indeed look different. Although cute wouldn’t suffice…I would say adorable…” Hijikata mumbled quietly looking away a hint of red on his cheek.

           “Well, we better get going, you look nice. Keep up the great work, Chizuru.” Enomoto replied as he started to gently push Hijikata to start walking.

           “E-Enomoto!” Hijikata protested as they began to walk to his room.

Chizuru was by herself again and decided to return to the meeting room. When she arrived Nomura, Souma, and Otoro was gone. There was a note on the table that requested the she help prep for the Christmas dinner. Shimada and Motoyama would be in the kitchen waiting to help prepare.

           “Why are you doing this to me!? Why can’t I see Chizuru…?” Iba was frustrated by Nomura and Souma who have tried to prevent him from seeing Chizuru.

           “She is on a mission right now, and she wants to concentrate on what she is doing right now. She said you would be a distraction to her if you tried to help,” Souma responded.

Iba rolled his eyes as Enomoto and Hijikata arrived. Enomoto explained to Iba that indeed Chizuru was working very hard on her mission. Disturbing her now would only make things worse.

           “I can’t at least help her?” Iba mumbled.

           “I’m afraid you can’t.” Hijikata sighed.

Iba was disappointed with the outcome of the situation. He did not have much to do now along with everyone else. He decided to head back into his room as he sighed thinking about what Chizuru’s mission might be. He did not get a chance to see her all day due to war meetings. He felt a bit powerless since he explained to Hijikata that he is now part of the demon community and cannot participate in the war of mankind. Iba felt powerless. Iba felt antsy few minutes later and went to go find Chizuru. In order to find her, he would have to be discreet.

           “I am going to have to agree with Hijikata, you do indeed look adorable Chizuru.” Shimada admitted.

           “Haha, if only Iba got to see you, he’ll probably won’t recognize you. Or, he’ll probably take you away and we’ll probably get a scolding for keeping you away from him, oops!” Motoyama covered his mouth after his confession.

           “Ah? What do you mean Motoyama?” Chizuru looked at him.

           “Well, we already know that you and Iba are together, but we just wanted to spend some time with you. Even if it’s only a little while.” Motoyama said.

           “Oh, I thought we were celebrating Christmas…” Chizuru said softly.

           “Well that is part of too. Spending time with friends and family.” Shimada replied with a smile.

           “I am actually starting to like this Christmas thing. It’s actually pretty fun.” Chizuru responded as she continued cooking.

Iba could not find Chizuru anywhere. He looked around the entire compound he can think of and went to the meeting room to find the room strangely decorated. Everyone was there aside from Chizuru, Motoyama, and Shimada. Just when he was about to turn around and escape Enomoto called for him to have a seat. Iba tried to make an excuse, but Enomoto convinced him to stay if he wanted to see Chizuru. Iba sat down at the table already distanced from conversation. Iba regained his attention back when Enomoto made an announcement of a special guest. Iba looked at the door and nearly fell from his chair by what he saw. As Shimada and Motoyama brings in the food, Chizuru was behind them standing at the door as ordered.

“Wow, Chizuru! You look so adorable!” Nomura squealed out.

Chizuru looked down in embarrassment the bells jingling as she walked up to the table and presented the alcohol. As she made it towards Iba he was not sure what to do as mixed feelings began to collide. He wanted to just take her and have her all to himself, was this a test to prove himself that he is no longer provoked by the demon soul that had already accepted him?

           “Iba?” Chizuru questioned him.

           “C-Chizuru-san…” Iba couldn’t talk, his face red as apples.

           “Yes? Let me guess it’s this outfit isn’t it?” Chizuru looked down in embarrassment.

Everyone around the table tried to hide their laughter and finding the awkward situation between Iba and Chizuru a bit amusing and precious. Even Hijikata tried to hold back a smile but failed.

           “So, what do you think Iba? Doesn’t she look great?” Souma poked Iba which was a bad idea.

It all happened so fast as Iba swept Chizuru off her feet and left the room carrying her away. Chizuru protested which Iba ignored.

           “Poor Iba, I would’ve probably did the same thing if my special someone dressed as cute as her.” Shimada commented.

           “Oh, I hope they are okay, I hope we didn’t push him over the edge…” Motoyama was worried.

           “Hehe everyone ready for part two?” Enomoto questioned the people at the table.

           “Wait, this was all your doing? You, sneaky person you.” Hijikata responded holding in his joy.

           “Hey, it’s the holiday season and I just wanted to have a little fun and bring joy on our first Christmas holiday before we go and face the Imperial Army. Now, for part two since Iba has taken away our guest of honor, he must be punished.” Enomoto showed everyone a mysterious box and opened it in front of them.

They all gasped and laughed and what was inside. They all agreed it would be the best punishment for Iba. Hijikata volunteered to punish Iba for it will be more believable. Everyone was shocked that the Vice President wants in on the fun.

“I-Iba, where are we going? Please put me down.” Chizuru looked away hiding her rosy cheeks.

“Just bear with me a little longer please.” Iba said as he returned to his room.

When Iba arrive in his room he put Chizuru down and sat on his futon taking in a couple of breaths. Chizuru began to worry about him and sat next to him.

           “Chizuru…may I ask for a favor?” Iba asked calmly.

           “Yes, of course.” Chizuru replied immediately.

           “Sit on my lap, I just want you close to me…”

Chizuru got up and sat on his lap. She asked if she was too heavy for him, Iba’s response by shaking his head. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Iba began mumbling his complaints which Chizuru heard a little bit of. She decided to make small talk with him to distract him a bit. All she got out of him were short answers.

           “Chizuru…” Iba whispered in her ear.

Chizuru froze in place as a flashback appeared in her mind.

           “Don’t tense up. Relax.” He gently kissed her ear.

           “I-Is it the demon’s voice again?” Chizuru couldn’t help but ask.

           “No. I’m sorry. This is for my own pleasure. When I heard you were the guest of honor I didn’t know what to do. The clothes you are wearing is strange, but…you looked beautiful. I was jealous when Nomura made that comment of how adorable you were. I didn’t know what to do without embarrassing myself or you.” Iba gave Chizuru a gentle squeeze.

Chizuru relaxed in Iba’s arms appreciating her moment with him. He let him have his way as he kissed along her neck. Her outfit was now becoming an inconvenience as she began to sweat due to her body heat. Iba asked if she was okay when she wasn’t feeling well or if she was uncomfortable. She responded that she was too hot and wanted to go outside. She convinced Iba if it was okay to go back to the party which Iba forgot about momentarily. As they entered outside and headed back to the meeting room Hijikata was waiting for them outside the door.

           “H-Hijikata-san, is something the matter? What are you doing outside?” She asked.

           “It is of no concern to you Chizuru, but after Iba’s little show back there I believe he should be punished for taking you away. You worked so hard on the food to prepare for us, we couldn’t even eat it because you weren’t there. Iba, what do you have to say for yourself?” Hijikata was very upset and it showed.

           “To make up for it, we all decided to lighten your punishment.” He responded.

           “We?” Iba questioned.

           “Well we are hungry waiting for you both, so hurry up and put this on. Make haste.” He handed him a box as he gave him the look of, ‘don’t come back till your changed.’

           Chizuru assisted in helping with Iba’s outfit which had the same theme and colors as if they were matching. Chizuru couldn’t help but smile in delight as she showed him in the mirror of what he looked like. Iba whined and said that he looked a bit ridiculous, but Chizuru proved him wrong she was comfortable and kept her warm. And she pointed out that they were on a time limit not knowing how hungry their friends are sitting in the meeting room waiting for them. Iba swallowed his pride and went back to the meeting room. They were met with a bunch of cheers. Iba and Chizuru were red as roses from all the cheering and compliments they were getting.

           “They both look adorable and cute now. Enomoto you’re a genius, even though I’m a little envious of Iba.” Otoro responded.

           “Can we switch positions with Iba?” Souma and Nomura replied tempting Iba again. Out of reflex Iba hit them both on the head.

           “Ah, it’s so lively in here with all this chaos. Doesn’t remind you of the old days?” Shimada said talking to Hijikata.

           “Heh, indeed it does.” Hijikata reflected about his dinners with the captains Kondou and Sannan.

           “Alright you two, one more thing before you two eat. Look up.” Motoyama tried to regain the attention back.

Iba and Chizuru looked up to see a leaf and attached to it was red tiny balls. Chizuru asked what it was. Motoyama explained that it was a mistletoe and if a couple is underneath one they must kiss. Chizuru protested for she didn’t want to kiss in front of everyone, which Motoyama explained that she didn’t have a choice in the matter. If they were to eat, they would have to kiss. Shimada and Hijikata watched smiling as the others were chanting and encouraging them to kiss. Iba turned towards her as Chizuru was frozen to the spot. Iba saw the pressure she was under. He hugged her from behind and pecked her on the cheek. He took her hand and escorted her to the table and finally they were able to eat the dinner that was presented.

           When the party came to its conclusion and everyone dispersed to their rooms only Iba and Chizuru remained to clean up. When they were finished Iba called her back under the mistletoe.

           “Shall we try again?” Iba asked.

           “Try what again?” Chizuru asked.

           “The mistletoe, now that you’re not under pressure?” He asked. Chizuru thought about it for a moment.

           “You do not have to if you don’t want to. I just thought it was an interesting concept is all.” Iba replied as he took the ornament down and gave it to her. Chizuru smiled as she held the item with an interesting idea. She whispered to Iba on what she wanted to do with the ornament. Iba couldn’t believe that she would even come up with that idea, it was out of character even for her, but he did not say no to it. They headed back to Iba’s room and placed the mistletoe on the wall above their futon. No encouragement, no cheers, and no provoking. Iba and Chizuru were able to kiss in peace. Later that night as they were snuggling together both of them were looking out the window and witnessed a rare sight. A shooting star that left a sense of hope for the couple.

[yotsubanoclover]

The Promise of Happiness

After all of this is over, let’s be happy together - the two of us.

Entry for @saeranchoiweek day 1 - Seasons 💕

Isn’t there anything I can do for him? You murmur to yourself, standing by the kitchen counter. Tiptoeing, you watch as Saeran continues working. The sound of mouse clicking fills the otherwise silent night. Sometimes you can hear him murmuring as he speaks in low but clear voice to whoever is on the other side of the call - perhaps it is Jumin, Jaehee, or someone from the C&R Intelligence Unit.

Shaking your head slightly, you heave a long sigh. You have nowhere near the computer skill he has, nor do you know anything about hacking, so you cannot help him with whatever he’s doing right now. Still, your chest feels tight imagining he has to work throughout the whole night, not getting even a wink of sleep.

He did say he wanted something sweet, you thought to yourself as you grab the mug you prepared for him with both hands. The warmth is comforting. And I wanted to make him something warm - with this, he gets both. You smile at the thought and begin walking towards the sofa where Saeran is working. He is so engrossed at his task that he doesn’t even notice you are there until you put the mug in front of him.

“Oh.” He looks at the mug, then at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice you coming.”

“I thought you’d be hungry.” You hand him the mug. The sweet aroma coming from the chocolate seems to release his tensions, as well. “I’m sorry this is all I could manage.”

He seems more relaxed he takes his first sip. “Thank you.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Never better.” He takes another sip before offering the mug to you. “Here, have some, too.”

You blush, but take a sip anyway. Immediately your body feels warmer. “Are you sure you can’t rest at all?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “I need to find out where they might hide my brother.”

“You had to carry me all the way here, too.” You look down at your bandaged, sprained ankle from falling down on the way here. “I’m worried you’ll faint.”

To your surprise, Saeran takes your hand and pats the top of your head. “You’re worrying for me that much - I’ll be fine. Is your ankle better?”

You nod, pursing your lips to a pout.

“Hey.” He takes your chin with one hand, making you face him. “I’ll be fine. Rather, you should be the one to sleep.”

Shaking your head, you stand up, squeezing his hand once before retreating back to the kitchen. Of course, you have to stop Saeran from helping you. You’re still limp, but it doesn’t hurt as much as before. Before long, you return with a thick blanket you happen to find in the kitchen cabinet. You stop short with flushed face, before snuggling with him as you put the blanket over the two of you.

He tenses up, before relaxing again, taking your hand in his.

“I’ll stay with you,” you tell him. “Is that okay?”

He looks away, red to the ears. “O-of course.”

The two of you stay like that, snuggled up, as Saeran continues working. You nearly doze off so many times, waken up by the beeping sound coming from the laptop once in a while. You watch as Saeran’s eyes light up every time the computer beeps, as if he’s found something, but then his shoulders would slump back down a moment later.

The monitor beeps yet again. “I found him.” His voice is like a sigh.

You lean forward, closer to the monitor, hoping to see something. Though, as expected, you understand none of the things you see. Past the complicated codes, you notice there is a picture of a rundown house on the monitor.

“You did it!”

“I did it...” He looks your way, relieved. “I should send this to the Intelligence Unit.”

It didn’t even take a minute - Saeran closes his laptop shut, standing up, and offering one hand to you. “Let’s go.”

You put the blanket aside, struggling to stand up. “Where to?”

He hands you his magenta suit. “Wear this. It’s chilly outside.”

So we’re going outside, you think to yourself while putting on the suit over your mini black dress. You have to roll the sleeves three times, and the hem could trip you, but it smells like him. It’s impossible not to smile.

“Is something funny?” he asks, to which you shake your head. He’s crouching on the floor with his back at you. “Here. I’ll carry you.”

“Ah - you don’t need to-“

“Just get on,” he insists. “You can’t let it worsen.”

You relent and let him carry you again. It feels like your heart is trying to get out of its place. “So... where are we going?” you ask to distract yourself.

“You’ll see.” You can hear him smile.

Okay... let’s try something else. “Saeran... when we find Seven and everything’s over, what do you want to do? Do you have any plans?”

“Hmm... I’d like to buy a house for us,” he answers.

A... a house? You blush at the thought. “What is it like?”

“A house in the countryside - a log cabin seems nice, too.” You can tell he’s enjoying himself. “I’ll grow a small garden at the back, and fill it with all kinds of flowers.”

You rest your head on his back, imagining the happy scenario. Just the two of you in the beautiful house - which will definitely smell like flowers all around - tending to the garden together, cooking together...

Saeran is still talking. “In the spring, we’ll watch the flowers bloom and decorate the house with them. We can also sleep on the grass smelling like the rain, under the stars, hand in hand.

“In the summer, we’ll swim at the beach - can you swim? Actually I’ve never visited a real beach before. I’m looking forward to experience it for the very first time with you. Then, we will have some ice cream together, too. It will be lots of fun!”

“What about autumn?”

“In autumn, we can take a walk side by side in the park - the air will be so delicious! It won’t be warm, but it won’t be too cold either - just the perfect weather! I will also cook lots of new dish everyday.

“Then in winter...” he takes a deep breath, stopping his steps. “We will play snow fight, share a muffler, then... then we will snuggle by the fireplace, drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows.”

You’re barely holding yourself from squealing. “I’m looking forward to each and everything of them.”

“Me too.” He resumes walking. “It still feels like a dream, doesn’t it? We were supposed to be in a scary situation right now, but I can’t help from being happy that we’re together.” He turns his head to you. “Are you scared?”

“I am, but...” you look away. “You’re with me.”

He chuckles. “We’re here.”

He helps you to get down, taking your hand in his. Your ankle feels painful again as soon as you step on the ground on your heels. Trying hard not to flinch as he guides you through the woods, it took you a while to notice what he wants to show you. Just a few steps away, barely noticeable and hunched under a big tree, you see a small plant with tiny white flowers. The buds shape like small bells, fluttering as the chilly wind blows.

“A lily of the valley,” slips out of your mouth as the two of you walk closer, being careful not to damage the fragile plant.

“I wanted to show you this.” Saeran gives your hand a light squeeze. “What I said just now - I wasn’t just saying it, I promise I will make it happen. After all of this is over, let’s be happy together - the two of us.”

Staring right into your eyes, he utters the next line, much clearer and surer than the rest. “I love you.”

You bury your face in his chest, enveloping yourself with his warmth. “I love you, too, Saeran.”

Staying like that for a while, both of you notice the sun rising. Its warm ray of light shines over the two of you, as if illuminating the promise you just shared together.

Saeran Week Entries: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

Master list

Buy me a coffee? :)

[sonichico-blog]

Letters and Bracelets - A Bungo Stray Dogs Fanfic

Author - Circie888

Pairing - Chuuya Nakahara/Atsushi Nakajima

Osamu snorted, whined and rolled eyes, while sincerely refusing to believe that his subordinate has such a bad taste in people - well, including the fact Atsushi was pretty close to him, there was no doubt. "Sorry, Dazai-san, - Nakajima awkwardly smiled and scratched back of his head. - I... Fell in love". There was nothing left for Osamu to do but courageously be silent, ignoring the presence of the ginger shorty in the Agency, and break loose on Kunikida, annoying him three times more often than usual, but including the fact how tense the work got just before the New Year, Doppo wasn't just unsatisfied - he was in rage. That's why Dazai was beaten up three times more often. But even this was better for him, than Atsushi's and Chuuya's little world - sugary-vanilla, with milk rivers and gingerbread shores.

When Nakahara got his deserved vacation, he started visiting a lot more often, than usual. Sometimes he got drinks for all of the detective company, except for Dazai, of course; sometimes he visited just to to drag Nakajima off behind the folding screen, to whisper about stuff on couches in solitude; or he took Atsushi to the cafe on the first floor for lunch break, but always paid for both of them, not letting Nakajima even look at the cheque. Shortly speaking, Chuuya tried to get every single piece of his beloved one's free time, and even though sometimes was distracting, Atsushi was... Happy.

Quite often Nakahara arrived in the end of the working day, and two of them went away under Dazai's displeased look, which Chuuya tried to not notice very hardly, and got away to the town, walking through snow-covered alleys, along narrow cozy streets with colorful garlands and round lanterns hanging over their heads. Nakahara had this weird will to always buy something for Nakajima, doesn't matter what - for example, a key chain, a plushie or some clothes - in any case the tiger-boy had an awkward feeling, but refusing these gifts would be impolite. When he confessed about this, Chuuya just thought about how cute he was and said, that he does not mind the money for him at all, but Atsushi made him promise he'll calm down a bit.

- How would you like to celebrate the New Year? - Nakahara asked, pulling up his scarf, and looking into Nakajima's face - red cheeks and red nose, shiny eyes, filled with the light of life. Yes. That's what he was in love with.

- I... Don't even know, - Atsushi babbled with an unsure smile and wiped the snow off his shoulder, snuggling up closer to Chuuya. - People in the Agency were talking about a corporate party, but I don't think they'll be holding it on the New Year's night. I am sure, somebody would want to celebrate it with their family - like Kenji, for example...

Nakahara bit his lip, hesitating to ask, but he wanted, he wanted to offer it so much, so he couldn't hold himself and blurted out:

- Then... How about spending it with me?

Chuuya hid his glowing look so that Nakajima doesn't see how exciting it was for him to talk about it, but he didn't care and smiled happily, going for a hug, but immediately pulling away - after all, this was so... confusing.

- Why not? - Atsushi responded, putting his head on his shoulders, but starting panically waving hands: - N-no, not like that, I'd want it! Really want it!! - Nakajima promptly muttered, and Nakahara laughed kindly, soothingly patting him on the shoulder.

- Heh... Personally, I think it would be great to book a room at the hotel, or maybe a house on the outskirts of the city?..- Chuuya thoughtfully said, starting a new wave of confusion inside Nakajima, who mumbled:

- Uhm... Chuuya, isn't it gonna be a bit expensive?

Yes, that's true.

But such things never stopped Chuuya.

Despite all of the talks and common sense, which seemed so only for Atsushi, in the end Nakahara rented them a two-floored villa and took the boy there as soon as his vacation started - two days before New Year. The place was amazing, beaming with holiday-like coziness: along the perimeter of the house there were garlands, beaming with gold, twinkling stars and snowflakes, there was a spruce wreath, and just above the threshold - omela, and Chuuya didn't miss the opportunity to kiss Nakajima's cheeks, tightly holding his hands.Inside was no less beautiful - nice warm colors, high ceilings, a fireplace with red socks, tinsel and glass balls, but the most prominent was the Christmas tree, gleaming with hundreds of lights. The place was great. Chuuya was great.

But at the same time Atsushi had a feeling that he doesn't deserve this.

He couldn't give anything in exchange, he was sure, that Chuuya would get him a gift which can't compare to his - moreover, Nakajima didn't have enough time to even think about it, to buy something - even more so; that's why he felt guilty. Firstly Chuuya didn't notice his depressed mood, but when he noticed, understood it is so because of him, and so he fell into the sadness pit too. He just wanted to please Atsushi. He just wanted Atsushi to be happy with him, here, at the place he had never been to, experiencing feelings that he never experienced. Nakajima bit his lips in confusion, listening to his beloved one's honest excuses, and then he told about his worries. Nakahara made them disappear one by one. Then they hugged, laughing happily, and after that, when Chuuya made them some mulled wine, they sat together in front of the fireplace. Swaying in a hug to quiet music, drinking spiced hot drink, rub noses, gently smiling - if somebody told him he's going to spend his holidays like this a year back, he probably wouldn't believe them. But despite this... right now he was happy.

Only a half of the day was left until the New Year. And even if Nakajima couldn't buy anything, he could make it him himself - so that's why he locked himself up in a room, sometimes coming out just to grab some food or tea.

Atsushi was thinking a lot, keeping his eyes on the blank sheets for a long time, he wrote, tore, and started again several times - the correct thoughts just didn't want to come to his head, but he needed to...to tell how important Nakahara became for him. Atsushi was a bit nervous, as he didn't have a pretty envelope for this letter, was nervous if the white sheet of paper would look soulless, and his writing would look too bad - since the orphanage times he still hasn't made it better... He was ashamed and felt awkward, but he finished and neatly folded it, and drew black hats and little tigers on the other side, repeating to himself how childish it looked.

But Nakajima was satisfied with his work. A bit nervous, but satisfied.

Their New Year - great tasty food, made by Chuuya, sparkling champagne, warm hugs and fireworks, which Nakahara launched with unstoppable fun and loud shouting, thank God nobody could hear them. Without the loud bells, without going to the church and without the traditional games, actually, they didn't need that - their hearts were filled with happiness, bright fire was burning in the quivering souls, and lazy stretching under the kotatsu* wasn't worse in any way.

- Oh, Atsushi-kun... The gift, - Nakahara awkwardly smiled, getting something out of his back pocket.

- Please don't say it's something expensive, I'll die of embarrassment! - Atsushi squeezed his head in his shoulders holding his hands between the knees, and Chuuya, hiding something that he got out, laughed warmly.

- Firstly, we talked about it already, - he said, taking Atsushi's hand into his. - And secondly - no, it's not expensive - and he put a braided cord, clasped it, making sure he picked the correct size. - I... made it myself, - Nakahara lowered his head and smiled. - I was thinking about the gift for a long time... Starting with great alcohol, ending with a flat next to mine. But you'd not be interested in the first, and the second would make you sad, because, you know, too expensive.

- C-chuuya... - Atsushi held his fists closely to chest, nervously looking at the bracelet he got.

- I was thinking about a hat, about a coat, about a smoking... Even about a ring, - Nakahara smirked, looking up at Nakajima. - But all those things are not... sincere enough. That's why I started making this kumihimo** and made a gift for you by myself. Sounds... So childish, - and Chuuya started laughing, covering his face, but Atsushi took his hand into his and gently kissed the knuckles.

- Thank you. The bracelet is great, - "Just like you", - a thought flew through in his mind, but he didn't have enough courage to say it outloud. - And it... Is important. Right here. - Nakajima placed Chuuya's hand on his chest, where his tender heart beat fiercely, and Nakahara hugged his darling, dragging him back under the kotatsu. - Ah, yes, I have a gift for you too! - remembered Atsushi. - Wait a second.

He jumped out of his warm spot and ran away to the second floor, to the bedroom, where he had left his letter. When he returned, he sat next to Nakahara and and stretched out the paper rectangle with his trembling hands. Chuuya smiled inappropriately wide, and Nakajima blushed, biting his lips.

- Looks like you even overdone it with the "childishness", - Chuuya smirked, looking at the cute drawings, but when he felt it could offend Atsushi, he hurried up to apologize - I'm not intending to shame you. It just looks really cute.

- W-wait, are you going to read it now? - Nakajima asked, when Nakahara started to unfold the letter and caught a puzzled look on himself.

- Why not?

- It's just... Whatever. If you want to, go on then.

Chuuya could understand him - maybe, it's very confusing, when somebody reads the thoughts you put on a piece of paper right in front of you, but the man was too curious, that's why he carefully unfolded it and started looking through the neat lines of handwritten kanji.

"My beloved Nakahara Chuuya,

I am very happy to spend my time with you. Every day, which I spend with you, every minute, every second fills my heart with the most sincere joy, which you can feel only by being with the closest person.

We don't know each other for so long, and we have been dating even less, but you became the most important person for me. Your attention, your care, your love make me feel the happiest human on this planet - and even though we work in the organizations, which still haven't destroyed each other only because of the fragile truce, it does not prevent us from loving each other no matter what.

It's a bit awkward to write about such stuff. When you're unsure, a bit scared, confused... it's very scary to say something wrong and trip, but I know, you will catch me, so that's why I'm ready to entrust yourself to your hands. You filled my life with light and eclipsed the horrors of my past. I never knew love nor tenderness, but you taught me, and I am thankful to you, and I will try so hard to not lose you.

I love you with my soul and body. And I hope you'll love me the same.

Sincerely yours

and nobody else's

N. A."

Nakahara covered his mouth with his palm, and, it seemed like his temperature raised because of what he felt while reading this letter. Atsushi was just keeping quiet, dying of embarrassment, and Chuuya, finally looked up.

- Atsushi-kun... - he breathed out, letting go of the letter and tightly hugging the boy. - Atsushi, I love you so much! And I will! I promise I will!

Nakajima blushed again and hugged him too.

Intending never to let go.

________

Kotatsu* - a low, wooden table frame covered by a futon, or heavy blanket, upon which a table top sits. 

Kumihimo** - a Japanese form of braid-making. Cords and ribbons are made by interlacing strands. Kumi himo is Japanese for "gathered threads".

All credit to @circie888

Your humble translator @sonichico

[aikatxt]

more heart than beast

aka: the gay beauty and the beast rewrite i wanted to see in the world.

It starts like this: you are born in the spring. You are born laughing. It is the most beautiful sound your parents’ have ever heard, and so they name you Belle.

                                                          -- You grow up in a small village. As a young child, this was the entire world, laying in your palm ripe for picking. Fields of flowers and vast forests surround your home, and you see these as adventure, rather than prison. It's a little lonely, but your parents are bright with joy and the house is full of love. You don't have much, but you're happy.

                                                          -- When you are seven, your mother dies, sick in bed and delirious with fever.

It breaks you. It breaks your father.

                                                          -- He can't look at you, not when Belle looks so much like Estelle.

                                                          -- He turns to work, to inventions.

You turn to books and fairy tales.

As your father tinkers with machines in hopes they will help the world, you dream of fairies and princes and monsters.

There's a longing in your chest, deep and aching, that grows each time you look out your window.

A whole world, out there.

A whole world, and you're trapped here.

                                                          -- The townspeople aren't cruel. They don't understand, is all.

They walk with their feet on the ground. You walk with your head in the clouds. Where they carry baskets and bread, you carry books upon books upon books.

They mean well when they tell you that you'll never get a husband like that; you can't help but think you don't want a husband.

                                                          -- Gaston has taken it upon himself to take the books from your hands, the dreams from your head, and turn you into the perfect little wife.

You make sure to slam the door on his fingers.

                                                          -- Some nights, when you can't sleep, you look out into the forest and wonder what hides in it.

Logic tells you animals. Dreams tell you fairies and monsters and magic.

Those nights, the longing to run is so strong it scares you. You turn to old drawings of your mother, and try to fall asleep.                                                            --

"Is there anything you want, Belle?" your father asks as he prepares to leave for the next village.

"A rose," you say. "Just a rose."                                                            --

You get your rose but you lose your father.

                                                           -- The castle is dark and looming, engulfing you in its shadow the moment you emerge from the forest. The stone is dark and cracked, the windows broken and dirty. Towers stretch high into the sky and a grand staircase connects it to the ground.

It looks like something from your fairy tales.

                                                           -- Fear has fled you; you are not the princess. You are the warrior.

And nothing will keep you from saving your father.

                                                           -- "I will stay in his place," you say.

You stare into the beast's eyes -- they glow in the darkness, a sickly yellow surrounding the cat slit of a pupil -- and refuse to back down.

The cell down is thrown open, and you only have time for a quick hug before your father is being carried away. 

"I'll be alright," you call after him, "You taught me how to take care of myself, after all."

                                                          -- The wardrobe talks. As does the clock and the candelabra.  Just like a fairy tale, you think, just like magic.

It isn't as exciting as you thought it would be.

                                                          --

You've lost your father again, but at least you know he's safe.

                                                           -- You go to dinner. The beast hunches over itself, almost as though it is trying to hide from you.

Perhaps, you think, it's not as dangerous as it appears.

                                                          -- "What is your name?" the beast asks.

"Belle."

"Beautiful?"

You stare into its eyes and ask, "Do you disagree?"

The beast looks away; not so scary after all.

                                                           -- Lumiere is loud and extravagant. He teases the beast and it storms off with a growl. When they apologize to you for his behavior, you shrug; the beast yelled at you when you saved your father, of course it had a temper.

The candelabra takes you on a tour, introducing you to the kitchen staff and Cogsworth and all the other living furniture.

It's magical.

                                                          -- "What's down there?" you ask, peering up the staircase.

"Ah, that is the west wing. We use it for storage. Nothing interesting to see there! Come now," Lumiere says, "Let us keep going."

He looks nervous, and you've never been good and holding your curiosity back.

There was something in the west wing, you're sure of it. You bid Lumiere a quick goodnight, then head back to your room.

                                                        -- It's well past midnight and your wardrobe doesn't wake when you carefully step out of the room.

Though it's dark, the windows have no curtains and the moonlight drenches everything in a soft silver glow.

The only place that's truly dark is the west wing.

                                                       -- Where the rest of the castle is abandoned and falling apart, the west wing is ruined and destroyed, testament to the beast's anger. Cloth hangings are ripped into scraps that litter the ground, paintings broken and sharp pieces of glass are everywhere you look.

You continue down the hallway, despite the goosebumps raising on your arms.

                                                       -- The first thing you notice: the bed, large and fit for royalty, is destroyed. Fluff from the mattress covers the room.

The second thing you notice: the painting, partially covered by a curtain. When you pull it off, all you can see are the blue eyes of a young girl. The face has been slashed up.

The third thing you notice: the rose. It glows and floats in a glass case on a small table, the only thing that remains untouched by destruction. Few petals lay on the tabletop, and you can't help but reach a hand towards it.

                                                       -- The beast howls and snarls. You run before the full force of your fear can hit you. Voices call out to you to stop, but you run outside to the snow before you can hear what they say.

The snow sticks to your feet but you push through.

                                                       -- You just want your father back.

                                                       -- When the wolves circle you where you've fallen in the snow, you close your eyes.

Snarling fills the air, but all you can hear is your mother's voice, singing a lullaby to help you sleep.

                                                      -- The beast saves you.

You can't save it.

Blood stains the snow under the beast; your heart stutters in your chest and your throat tightens up and you think, 'I should have done more.'

                                                      -- Philipe, your fathers trusted horse, emerges from the trees.

With his help, you're able to get the beast onto Philipe's back and you begin the trek back to the castle, a broken branch clutched in one fist, held tight enough that your fingers go numb.

You will not let anything hurt the beast again.

                                                     -- "I'm sorry," you murmur as you clean out the beast's wounds; they're only scratches, thankfully. Large, but shallow.

"You shouldn't have run off," it growls.

A flash of annoyance hits you, and you snap, "I wouldn't have run if you didn't go on a rampage!"

"You shouldn't have gone to the west wing!" the beast snaps back, then whimpers when you clean the wound a little too roughly.

"Sorry," you say again. The beast remains silent, looking into the fire Lumiere started. You bandage the wound with a large cloth and tie it tightly, then press a kiss to it. "My parents always did it for me," you explain, unable to look the beast in the eye, "It always made me feel better."

                                                         -- "Thank you, Belle."

                                                         -- Something's changed between the two of you. The air in the castle is lighter, the sunshine a little brighter, the laughter a little louder. The beast gives you a library; you give it story after story of fairy tales and your life in the village. It's nice.

But you wish your father could be here too.

                                                          -- The beast, you realize, has been lonely for a long time. Terrified of itself, hating the world, and so, so terribly lonely.

But underneath all that, it is kind and full of love.

                                                          -- "Would you-- I mean, I would like to ask-- I mean--" The beast stutters and slips over its words. It glances around, unable to meet your eyes and you can't help but break into a fond smile. "Would you like to dance with me tonight?" the beast finally gets out, twisting its paws nervously.

"I would love to," you say, and the beast lights up.

                                                         -- The wardrobe is excited, more than you are. Red, green, blue, purple; she goes through colors and fabrics, throwing dress after dress out of the closet.

You sit through it all patiently; you understand passion, and you refuse to take it away from anything that's already lost so much.

Finally, you are dressed in a golden dress, large and adorned with ribbons. The wardrobe wants something complex and fancy for your hair. You smile and pull your hair back as you always have.

You still take the offered bow.

                                                         -- The beast braided back its hair elegantly. It wears a deep blue suit with a white sash that hangs like a skirt around its waist.

You realize you don't know the beast's gender; you realize that you don't really care. The beast is beautiful either way.

The fairy tale of your dreams.

                                                        -- "Come," the beast says, still smiling from the dance, "I want to show you something."

It's not the rose.

It's a mirror.

"I know you miss your father. With this, you can see him."

                                                         -- You take the mirror. The reflection ripples, and there's your father, being thrown into a cage.

                                                         -- "Go," the beast says, "Go save your father."

                                                         -- You're thrown into the cage with your father.

Gaston holds the mirror high and leads the townspeople to the castle.

It's not over yet.

You pretend to sob, the bed the guard to tell you what's happening. When he comes close, you grab his shirt and pull him towards you. His head hits the bars and he slumps in your hold.

The grin on your face is savage as you take the key from his coat; they've gone after the wrong monster.

                                                         -- The ride through the forest on Phillipe has torn your dress and dirtied it with mud.

You rip off the bottom of the dress; it's slowing you down too much.

You run from the town, Phillipe, your father: you have a beast to save.

                                                         -- Gaston falls to his death.

The beast slips gently to its death.

The last petal of the rose begins to fall.

                                                         -- You should have realized sooner: this is not a fairy tale.

This is a tragedy.

                                                         -- "I love you," you whisper, forehead pressed against the beast as you cry. The night is quiet. So, so quiet.

                                                         -- And then: light.                                                                                                                                                        m a g i c                                                           -- The beast is gone. In its place is a beautiful woman with long golden hair and the bluest eyes you've ever seen.

"Belle," she whispers, then steals your breath with a kiss.

[atombombbagel]

WHAT DO YOU THINK ROMANCED COMPANIONS WOULD BE LIKE WAKING UP ON CHRISTMAS MORNING AND WHAT GIFT WOULD THEY BRING SOLE IM YELLING BECAUSE IM THINKING OF ALL THE CUTE FLUFF STUFF

Okay sooo, this wasn’t written by me but by my good friend @fantomofthehiddles, who did a super good job at this masterpiece. It’s under keep reading because it is long and amazing :P 

[[Damn, Iturned this into an f!Sole before I realised what I was doing. So sorry, I’lldo better next time, I pwomise! ;__;]]

[[Also,sorry this turned to be as long as an average Ghoul lifespan…]]

Sole awoke one morning to find the worldcovered in snow. At first, she felt surreal, like in the old world, like justin a second she would hear Shaun shifting in his crib, crying for his mommy.But it wasn’t Nate who was still asleep next to her, and it wasn’t 2077anymore. It was just the thick layer of snow and halos of icicles hideverything that, up till now, did a very good job of reminding her the worldhad changed: ruined houses, dead trees with broken branches, ubiquitous debris,and even the yelloweed grass. She reached for her Pip-Boy, as she did everymorning, accidentally turning the knob to “Data”, and if it wasn’t for that,she wouldn’t even realize it was 25th of December already. And thenit hit her: this would be her first Christmas without Nate, without Shaun…without her family.

Cait

“Hey,darlin’, you okay?” Cait sat up next to her, wrapping the bedding around hernaked body to protect herself from the crispy tang in the air. Sole put her armaround her and nodded mindlessly, though the words “yeah, I’m fine” somehowdidn’t want to leave her throat. Cait’s eyes wandered to the Pip-Boy. “Oh, it’sChristmas, ain’t it?”

Solelaughed softly, though didn’t really feel it. “You forgot? Really?” She didn’tmention she would have almost forgotten it herself.

“Hey, whenyou haven’t any real holidays yer entire life, they just slip by.” She soundedalmost angry, but then she looked to the side, maybe even blushed a little, andsaid, “Well, I ain’t gonna spend it complainin’. I’m glad I have me darlin’ toshare it with.” And with a kiss on Sole’s cheek, she jumped out of bed andopened the trunk she kept her things in. “Here. I made this for ya. I know itain’t much, but… I’m not as good with me hands as you are.”

Sole turnedthe bladed knuckles in her hands. They were chrome-finished, polished to ashine, and the blades were so visibly sharp Sole didn’t feel the need to check.On the bottom, on the surface that would rest against her palm, Cait had engraved:“Give ‘em a taste, love” in surprisingly elegant letters. Sole started tosuspect she had had Sturges help her with these.

“Not much?”she teased. “I love them. Come here.” She pulled Cait back to the bed and gaveher a kiss, which soon turned into a much hungrier and sexier make-out session, until they finally pulled away, albeitwith some effort. “Now, what do you say we go for a walk to the Combat Zone andmake Tommy spend Christmas with us? And we could have MacCready come with us.”

Cait lookedat her in such surprise, she didn’t even notice her eyes teared up a little.“Nothing would make me happier, luv.” And after another second of staring atSole’s face in wonder, she smiled with clear, unbridled joy, a smile Sole sorarely got to see on Cait’s face, and said, “It’s nice, y’know, having afamily.”

Curie

“I havenever seen snow before, did you know?” Curie said, standing at the window,staring at the white roofs of Diamond City’s buildings. Sole walked over to herto embrace her from behind. She put her chin on Curie’s shoulder, looking out atthe view, and suddenly all the hard work she’d put into installing the windowwas worth it. The fluff was still falling, slowly, gently drifting to theground, clinging to the Christmas lights drawn across the square, and thechildren played below, having a snowball battle without care for any collateraldamage to walls and passers-by. 

Sole dug her face in Curie’s neck, stifling acry as she realized she would never get to see Shaun, real Shaun, playing like that. She did adopt the synth Shaun,mostly for Curie’s sake; Curie, upon learning about the feud between theRailroad and the Institute, and how everyone else played into it, had been veryconcerned about how their relationship could be viewed by others. How Solecould be ostracized or even persecuted for loving her. How maybe she didn’treally like being with a synth. So Sole adopted the kid to calm her doubts,show her she really cared; but there was still a nagging voice in the back of hermind making her constantly aware that the ten-year-old boy, now running aroundTakahashi’s noodle stand in order to get a better angle at the ‘enemy team,’wasn’t her real son. Even though he acted like one and loved her like one. Hewasn’t her own.

But peopledidn’t know that, except for select few, like Curie, of course, or Nick who hadhelped her find Shaun in the first place, or X6. Everyone else though shereally did find her son at the Institute. Well, they weren’t really wrong.

“As much asI love this, ma belle,” Curie said,pulling Sole out from the dark corners of her mind, “we must get going. He havea lot to do today! You promised me carolling, remember?”

“I do,”Sole replied reluctantly. Oh, Piper was going to have a field day with them.

“Butfirst,” Curie continued, obviously ignoring her tone, “I have made a veryspecial gift for you, mon amour!” Shescuttled through the room, leaving Sole completely dumbfounded. They’d beenspending every waking moment together for weeks now. When did Curie manage toget her a gift without her noticing? And a hand-crafted one, at that? “Here,unwrap it! I read that unwrapping presents used to be an important traditionbefore the War. But I’m afraid I had to use pages from a children’s book. It iscolorful, yes?”

It wascolorful, and pretty. So much that Sole tried her best not to damage thepackaging too much, but Curie didn’t seem to mind. What emerged looked somewhatlike a leather collar, black, and quite elegant. There was a round piece ofplatinum at the front which seemed to have a purpose beyond just being adecoration.

“It doessomething, doesn’t it?” Sole asked, throwing Curie a mistrustful glance.

“Yes, see,if you put it on and press this button, it releases a mild chemical which willstop pain conduction from the neck down. It should make it more comfortable foryou to tend to your injuries in the field, when I am not there to help.Professor Scara helped me with the technology. She said it is called ‘achoker’, even though I don’t see why. Still, very useful, no? And I think youwill look very mignonne in it.”

“Oh, Curie,”Sole said, almost crying for some reason. “You’re the most amazing woman I’veever met. Thank you.”

“I knew you would like it!” Content, sheopened the window to shout: “Shaun, monpetit cœur! It is time to come home!” And as she turned back to Sole, “This shouldbe an interesting experiment. We should start with the Science Center, no? Myco-workers should be thrilled to have us.”

Sole turnedthe choker in her hands, feeling the texture of the soft leather, before sheput it on the side table. There would be time to test it later. Now, she wasabout to spend Christmas with her family.

Danse

“What was that about?” Sole heard Hancock’s voiceoutside the window.“Hell if I know,” Nick replied, they voices getting quieter as they walkedaway. Sole looked out the window to find Danse standing on the porch.

“Whathappened?” she asked.

“I smiled,”he replied, causing her to choke with stifled laughter. “And I told them ‘MerryChristmas’. I don’t think they liked it.”

“They wereprobably just surprised,” she said before walking out to the porch with him andpromptly shivering in the cold. Note to self: winter is not the time of year towalk out of the house in nothing but a nightgown. “Oh, shit, it’s cold.”

Danselooked her up and down. “That is indeed the case when you stand barefoot in thesnow.” Had he said it, he picked up against her protests that everyone wasgoing to see—

“It’s justfor a second,” he cut her off, dashing to the building across the street. AndSole, holding on to his strong, broad shoulders, suddenly didn’t mind. He sether down near the fire. “I actually have something for you that might be theanswer to your problem.” And from a locker, he pulled out… Maxson’s battlecoat?

“Wh… Pleasetell me you didn’t go back to the Prydwen to kill Elder Maxson for this,” shestuttered out, but as Danse began shaking his head with amusement, she noticedthere wasn’t any blood on it, and in fact, there weren’t any sign of wear atall.

“If I did,I wouldn’t be standing here right now,” he replied. “It’s just…” Shock onSole’s face deepened. She had never heard him not finish a sentence before.“You used to joke about how much you liked Maxson’s coat, so I thought I shouldmake one for you. Like I said once: if you want something, say it, and I’llmake it happen.” And he wrapped the coat around her bare shoulders, and shemarveled at how warm it was, how well it fit her, how even the lining was justright, and how…

“You madethis? On your own?” She still couldn’t believe it, even holding the damn thing inher hands.

“Well, theyalways encouraged us to work on our uniforms, and turns out, leather isn’t muchdifferent. I hope you like it.”

“Oh, Danse,I love it!” She jumped into his arms again just to give him a deep kiss. Andfeel his biceps, because why not. Danse in turn embraced her waist and huggedher close to steady her. She could feel his firm chest on hers even through hisclothes. As always, it made her remember Nate, just like every time Danse puton his power armor, she remembered Nate in his, and, just as always, shecouldn’t help thinking about how lucky she was. This is where she’d alwaysbelonged: in a soldier’s arms. “Thank you so much, hun’.”

Dansestumbled back into the wall as he put his forehead against hers, closed hiseyes, and momentarily lost his balance a bit; but Sole wasn’t worried. Even ifthey had fallen, Danse would make sure she landed safe on him. Nevertheless,there was something desperate in how he longed for her touch.

“Honey?What’s going on?” she asked gently, her hands against his face. He squeezed herwaist harder, to the point it almost hurt, but then he set her down again.

“I want totell you how important this is for me,” he said softly, looking straight intoher eyes. His fingers played with a strand of her hair, almost as if on theirown. “The last real Christmas I had was… all the way back in Rivet City, withCutler. Later, when we joined the Brotherhood… There always seemed to be moreimportant things to do. Holidays just seemed… silly. We’d give each other smallgifts for a few years, the even that stopped, and then he…” And now, for thefirst time since always, she heard his voice break. She rubbed his face withher hand, trying to give him some sort of comfort. He took a breath, thencontinued, “I just want you to know, this means a lot. Those memories withCutler are some of the most precious ones I have, and I feel blessed to be ableto add to them with you. You make me feel the same way he did: like I have afamily again.”

Hancock

Sole turnedand looked at Hancock, still sleeping soundly, his scarred lips slightly partedin steady breaths. His eyes were moving as he mumbled something in the linesof, “what the fucking fuck happened to this mutfruit?” Sole should havelaughed, but somehow, it only made her feel worse. She didn’t want to wake himfrom this obviously thrilling dream, but… She snuggled up to him, put her headon his bare chest, the warm ridges and crests scraping against her cheek. Ifshe felt chilly before, that was now completely replaced with the heatemanating from Hancock. She clinged to him with her entire body, blamingherself as he stirred awake.

“Hey,sunshine, what’s going on?” He threw his arm around her, squeezing her waistreassuringly.

“I’m sorryI woke you. I didn’t—”

“Come on,getting to spend more time with you? Nothing I’d like more In the world.” Hekissed her forehead and she nuzzled her face into his neck, breathing in hisscent. “So what’s up? Why are you like this? Come on, it’s Christmas.”

“I know…”

“Oh… Ohh.”He pulled her up onto himself until she was on top of him. He cupped her facein his hands, placed another gentle kiss on her lips. “I love you, Sole. I knowit’s not enough to fill the hole your family left in you, b— No, shit, don’tcry.”

Solecouldn’t help it. She clung to him again, bawling all over his shoulder,suddenly so overwhelmed by every bad and good thing she felt, she couldn’t holdit in anymore. She’d been gathering it up for the last three months, nevertalking much about it, never letting it out, because in this world, everyone’slives sucked, and most of them much worse than hers. She had it good, comparedto some. And she really did believe she’d left her old life behind, since thisone was, surprisingly, so much simpler. But apparently not.

Hancock heldher close, rocking them a little as he brushed her hair and gave it a fewkisses. She still couldn’t believe how well he understood, even though she knewit was killing him inside to see her still pining for the husband she had lost.For a dead man. Unless she found a way to truly put Nate out of her mind,Hancock would always feel like he does now: like he comes second to her. Andyet, he remained at her side, loving her unconditionally. Saying how he didn’tdeserve her, when truly, it was her who didn’t deserve him.

“I loveyou, too,” she said finally, having regained control over her shaky breathing.“And I’m so, so sorry.”

“Now, don’ttalk crap like that.” Hancock brushed her hair aside as she raised her tear-stainedface to look him in the eye. “You had a rough year. Rough two hundred years.You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Shesnuggled up to him again, suddenly unable to speak again. Hancock gave her amoment which he seemed to enjoy just as much as she did, and then said: “Okay,that’s enough of being two emotional wrecks, we need to get going,” as helazily slapped her ass.

Sole satup, too surprised to throw him a black look. “What? Why?”

“We’rehaving a Christmas party at the Third Rail. Didn’t I tell you?” She shook herhead. “I could swear I told you. I did tell you to bring a dress, didn’t I? Well,anyway, it won’t be much of a party without everyone’s favorite mayor making anappearance, so why don’t you just…” And then he bluntly rolled her off of him.Sole, with a pained sigh, kept rolling until she almost fell off the bed andscrambled to her feet.

“Oomph…fuck.” She leaned against the wall, feeling her head explode, but like, in thedistance.

“Youalright?”

“Just a bitdizzy. And a headache.”

Hancockcame over to kiss her temple, but snorted along the way: “You’re spending waytoo much time with me.” But then a thought occurred to him and he frowned. “Ormaybe you’re sick?”

“Bullshit.I’m just tired.” As soon as she could move normally again, she began dressing,much to Hancock’s theatrical anguish. “It’s not like last night brought me muchsleep, exactly…”

“Yeah,sure, make it all my fault,” he teased as he pulled on his coat and fastenedthe belt across his chest. “You little vixen, you.”

Solechuckled. It absolutely was not his fault. He had just about fallen asleep whenshe’d decided to jump his bones. Oh, the poor bed.

Afterseveral minutes of him constantly interrrupting her as she tried to getdressed, they finally went down to the Third Rail, where the entire populace ofGoodneighbor was already gathered. As soon as Hancock walked in, everyonewelcomed him with an earth-shattering ‘huzzah!’ raising their glasses, which,as Sole suspected, were full thanks to his generosity. Oh, how easy it was tomake these people happy. Hancock waited for the commotion to die down—someonehanded him a glass of wine in the meantime and Hancock now thumped hisfingernails against it.

“I’d liketo make an announcement,” he said. “One a bit more elaborate than my usual ‘ofthe people, for the people’.” Everyone cheered anyway. “Okay, okay. Come on,folks. I just wanna say that Goodneighbor may have started as a place, but nowit’s about you. The people. Without you, there would be no Goodneighbor. And itmakes me more happy than I can say to be able to call myself your mayor andcall you my family.” Cheers and ‘aww’s broke out again.

“We loveyou, too, Hancock!” a man shouted.

“Now, now,don’t get too familiar, Joe, you’re not my type.” Hancock winked and Sole couldswear at least half the crowd pretended to faint while the rest laughedheartily. “Not to mention, and here we’re coming up on the second part of myannouncement that most of you probably know, I’m already spoken for.” Sayingthat, he pulled Sole in closer. The crowd cheered on, albeit less loudly, andsome of them murmured in an unsurprised agreement. Sole’s eyes met MacCready’s,who was sitting at the bar, and he smiled and put his glass up to her.

“Now I’dlike you all to come see the gift I got this one. Y’know, in hopes she’ll makegood use of it and come visit us a little more often.” People laughed again,and then most of them followed as Hancock led Sole out with his hand on herwaist.

“What thehell did you do, Hancock?” she murmured, blushing. For someone who got involvedin so much, she didn’t necessarily like being the center of attention.

“You’llsee, sunshine,” he replied in that low voice of his. Son of a bitch. Theywalked out into the cold, crispy air, smelling of smoke and winter. Snowcrunched beneath their feet as they took a left turn around the corner of theOld State House… and then she saw it. A beautiful silver vertibird, clearlyfreshly washed and polished, was sitting on the roof of Hotel Rexford. Anenormous red bow was somehow tied around the pilot’s cabin.

“What thefuck? John? What the actual fuck?” she stuttered, and he only stood there andgrinned proudly. “You can’t be serious! Whaa… How did you even…?”

“You knowhow Gunners will do anything for caps?… Yeah.”

“Do went tothe Gunners?!”

“More likecontacted them via a messenger, arranged a meet on neutral gr… Oh, stopfreaking out. They’re pretty reasonable when they hear the caps jingle, andthey do keep their gear in good condition.” Sole was still shaking her head athim with her eyes widened in honest shock, so he continued, “What was Isupposed to do? Go to the Brotherhood?”

“How aboutget me a smaller, more… manageable gift?”

“Stopwhining.” He kissed her to shut her up. Some of the more intoxicated partyerscheered them on as they rode the line between propriety and shamelessly makingout in public. Hancock pulled back a little, but still stayed close, and whenhe had her so close, his rough hands on both sides of her head, suddenly therewas no one else in the entire world. “It’s your fault, you know. Should neverhave said you’d like one of your own. You should’ve known I’d strive to make ithappen.” Sole let out an incoherent babble, hiding her red face in her hands.Hancock laughed and kissed her forehead. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go spendChristmas with family.”

 BONUS:

As theydescended back into the Third Rail, this time led by a small group of drunkNeighborhood Watch guards, singing a bawdy song as they stumbled down thestairs, Hancock and Sole were suddenly approached by Magnolia.

“I wantedto say, I’m happy for you two,” she said before they could even greet her.“You…” She put her finger on Sole’s chest. “You are one hell of a woman. Iwould know.” She winked and laughed with that perfectly calculated chuckle.“Take care of him, dear. And you, Hancock—don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh,Magnolia. I would never.” Again, with unbridled joy, he kissed Sole’s templewith such exhilaration, she couldn’t help but laugh. But she also couldn’t tearher eyes off of Magnolia’s fiery gaze. There seemed to be something else.

“But,still, in memory of old times…” She threw Sole a meaninful look, making herblush again, as she reached underneath her dress to take out a small package.“I’d like you to have this. I think it’ll suit you well.” And, saying that,Magnolia left a kiss on Sole’s cheek and went on to take her place at themicrophone and entertain the crowd as only she could. Sole opened the smallpacket to find a ruby-eyed ring with intricate engravings around the socket.Hell, it seemed to be older even than her. She stared at it in disbelief untilHancock gently took it from her.

“Well, I’llbe damned.” He said only before slipping it on her finger and then placing analmost theatrical kiss on her hand. “Now, milady… Shall we dance?”

Solelaughed and let him lead her down to the main room of the Third Rail. No onepaid much attention to them anymore, busy with their own friends andactivities. Only Whitechapel Charlie dipped his hat to them as they went past.They found a fairly quiet corner in MacCready’s VIP room, and as they dancedslowly to Magnolia’s voice seeping under the door, singing her specialinterpretations of the Christmas carols, Hancock embraced her close and kissedher neck gently, sending warm shivers down her spine. Until he suddenly jerkedhis head up.

“Wait. Whatdid Magnolia mean by ‘old times’?” he asked, watching her carefully. Soleblushed at the memory of Magnolia’s scent and deft fingers.

“Nothingmuch, love,” she said immediately, but Hancock’s grin made it clear he figuredit out anyway. She laughed at the face he made. Hancock kissed her deeply, andthen instead of dancing, she was in his arms again as he put his hand on theback of her head and refused to let go. And when they pulled back, they wereboth panting hard, and she could see his thoughts written clearly on his partedlips and lustful gaze.

“Goddammit,John,” she said immediately. “We are notdoing this in MacCready’s room with everyone on the other side of the door.”

“Mm, you’reright…” he mumbled, but still didn’t let her go. “But why not?”

MacCready

She allowedherself several minutes to shed a few tears over the life she used to have, butthen a pitter-patter of small feet sounded in the short hallway, and she hadjust barely enough time to wipe her face in the bedding before Duncan ran intothe bedroom.

“IT’SCHRISTMAS!” he shrieked in a tone that nearly burst her eardrums, jumping ontothe bed. “And there’s snow! Have you seen?”

“Yes,” shechuckled, as if immediately healed by his child-like excitement. “You wannahelp me make the food?”

“I would…”He sat up and wrinkled his nose with an undecisive pout. “But I’d also like togo outside… I mean, there’s so much SNOW!”

“Right, youusually wouldn’t see this much, would you? Okay, then, why don’t you getdressed warm and run down to Miss Alice and get some razorgrain and fruit?Actually, take whatever she’ll give you, your dad will probably figure out ause for it.”

She waitedfor Duncan to say, “Oh, okay, I guess” and leave to get dressed before sheburst out laughing at her own unintended sexual innuendo. Fuck, four days isapparently way too long.

Just anhour and half later, they were both in the kitchen, preparing dough for thecake she had promised Duncan probably a couple of weeks ago. Brahmin wasalready marinating, carrots and silt beans cooking; she even prepped the cornwhen she got bored as the dough was rising. Now she was trying her best to makesomething resembling chocolate icing with the odd-tasting brahmin milk, sweetrolls, sugar bombs, and a pinch of coffee. It wasn’t going so well.

“Duncan!Can you please not?” Sole shouted, gently pushing the boy’s hand away from thedough. “Come on, would you rather eat raw dough or a chocolate cake?”

Duncan wasthinking for the longest time before he finally said, reluctantly, “Cake…”,even though he was still eyeing the dough longingly. Sole sighed. “When isDaddy going to be back?” he asked then, and the way he said ‘Daddy’, like hestill couldn’t believe the word even as it left his mouth, tore Sole’s heartout of her chest. Well, shit. She didn’t need it anyway.

“Soon, Ihope,” she said as normally as she could, but she couldn’t help to glance atthe time. RJ had left their house at Sunshine Tidings a few days ago to go finda gift for Duncan. He’d said he would come back in time for Christmas dinner,hell, that he’d even help her make it, but it was already past noon and hestill hadn’t come home. Fuck knows where he went in the first place. He mightbe dead in a ditch somewhere, chewed on by molerats, or… worse—torn to shredsby ferals. She found herself wondering what she’d do if she had to tell Duncanthat, and then take care of him alone. Would she even be able to?

Don’t thinkabout it, she told herself. It would be okay. She sent Strong to go with RJ,and these two were pretty much unkillable together. RJ probably miscalculatedthe time it would take them to get to Goodneighbor and back with Strong slowinghim down a little.

“Why don’tyou go play with Dogmeat outside?” she asked Duncan, seeing the internal battleover the dough play out clearly on his face. “Just dress warmly and becareful.”

“Okay,” hebeamed up at the idea, got ready in the matter of seconds, and shouted “Comeon, Doggy!” as he rushed out the door. Dogmeat slid off of his couch, stretchedcarefully, and followed him out, his muzzle drooping like he wanted to say,“gosh, I’m getting too old for this,” even though he was barely four.

But soonSole could see the dog rolling in the snow so zealously he rolled off a hilland stopped only at the water pump, hitting it with a yelp. Duncan ran to checkup on him, but Dogmeat got up without trouble and immediately knocked the kidoff his feet and into another heap of snow. Sole chuckled to herself before shewent back to her fight with the icing.

It wasn’tlong before Duncan rushed back inside, red-cheeked and shivering, but stillwith a huge grin on his face. Dogmeat soon followed, covered in snow so snuglyone couldn’t even tell he was a German Shepherd anymore. He stood in the middleof the living room and tensed up.

“Oh, no,no, NO!” Sole managed to shout out as she ran to kick him out to the porch, butshe was too late. Dogmeat shook it all off on the beautiful rug she’d restoredwith such effort. Goddammit. “If youthink you’re getting back on the couch, young dog, you are very mistaken,” shesaid strictly. “You stay here in the mess that you made.”

Dogmeatwhined with his uncanny understanding and indeed sat his tail down on the wetrug. That probably wasn’t the best course of action, Sole thought, but she couldn’tback out of it now. She put some wood in the fireplace before going back to thekitchen.

“And you,Duncan, go change and please hangthese wet clothes near the fire, but not inthe fire, okay?”

Duncannodded and ran off. She still wasn’t over how much energy that kid had. But,she supposed, it was normal for children. She’d just never had a chance towitness it before. Her eyes teared up again, and she told herself it was fromthe heat of the cooking.

Duncan sooncame back, got himself busy with some toys, but then eventually ended up on therug with Dogmeat anyway. Sole watched them amused as Dogmeat rolled onto hisback to get some belly rubs, and Duncan, scratching him with one hand, drovethe toy car on his chest with the other. And when the toy inevitably fell offthe steep slope of a dog’s ribcage, Duncan reached over him for it and Dogmeatshamelessly licked him in the face. Duncan, caught by surprise, jumped backwith a surprised shriek before he laughed. Sole smiled. There was probably nothingmore joyful than a small child’s laugh.

“Aww, Ithink he likes you,” she said and Duncan giggled even more. Dogmeat pushed hishead under Duncan’s hand and the two were promptly playing together again.

Only a fewminutes had passed before the door opened again with another wave of cold airblowing into the house. Sole turned away from the stove just as Duncan yelled:“Hi, Daddy!” and ran to get a hug.

“Hi,buddy,” RJ said, putting his arm around him, and then promptly giving Sole anapologetic look. “I’m sorry it took so long, we—”

“Oh, shutup,” Sole cut him off and ran over, rising up to her toes to finally kiss him.His lips and cheeks were awfully cold, but she didn’t care. “It doesn’tmatter,” she said as she pulled away, sliding her hands down his chest. “Aslong as you’re okay, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, I’mfine. The snow surprised us a little. Some places, it was up to my waist and wehad to improvise. Have you ever had Strong give you a piggyback ride?”

“Wha—”

“Look,Daddy!” Duncan spoke up, having long gone back to playing with Dogmeat on therug. He was now climbing over Dogmeat’s back while the dog not only suffered itpatiently, but even seemed to enjoy it. And just as RJ moved to get him to stopin fears that he’d get hurt, Duncan continued delightedly: “And Mama said Doggylikes me!”

Thatstopped RJ dead in his tracks. Sole, too. Duncan had never called her thatbefore. RJ turned to her slowly with an odd expression. She didn’t know what tomake of it. Was he angry? Did he think she made Duncan say it? She shivered. Orwas he just in shock that after barely a month, his little boy was already…? Hewent over to the kitchen table, stiffly, sat down… and just started crying.Sole froze. Duncan didn’t notice there was anything wrong, thankfully, so whenshe could move again, Sole grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to thebedroom, saying, “Let’s go get you changed out of those, you’re freezing.”

It wasn’tthat she wasn’t shaken, especially with how Duncan just threw it in there, intoa normal sentence, like it was the most regular thing in the world. And thetruth was, he had never called her anything before, really. Somehow, thatfive-year-old kid managed to navigate every conversation in a way that allowedhim to avoid calling her anything else than ‘you’. So this did feel like a.50-caliber bullet to the chest.

But RJ wasin such state that all of that now faded away. He slumped to the edge of thebed like he got deflated, and immediately hid his face in his hands. Solekneeled on the floor next to him and could see tears glistening between his fingers. She rubbed his knee, but couldn’tfind any words to say. Only after a long while filled only with RJ’s stifledsobs and the quiet sounds of Duncan’s play coming from the other room did Solemanage to let out a sad sigh and whisper, “RJ…”

“I’m sosorry…!” he whimpered, barely keeping his voice down as he collapsed entirelyso that Sole had to embrace him and prop him up on her shoulder, or he would’vefallen off the bed.

“No, no…”she said, but he didn’t seem to be listening anymore. He just went on.

“Oh, God… Ijust never expected him to…” He held on to her for dear life, and thedesperation and pain behind his cries made her tear up, too. There was somethingsqueezing her throat already. “It’s been years… Years… And I stopped believingI’d ever hear him use that word again… And the first time I do, I think, ‘no,it’s not her’. Oh, God, Sole, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be,RJ,” she could barely hold her own tears back. Something about the way he criedresonated deep within her and she couldn’t help herself. “I’m not trying tofill Lucy’s shoes. I don’t expect you to forget about her, I know you stilllove her.”

RJ wassilent for a longer while, clearly trying to regain his composure, before hefinally pulled away and looked her in the eye. He seemed calm, but his eyesbetrayed the freshly opened wounds he suffered from. “I do. But I love you,too. And I didn’t like feeling like that—angry, at my little boy. It wasn’t hisfault. He probably doesn’t remember Lucy at all…” His voice broke again, andSole had to blink away her tears. “It’s not his fault. It just… hurt, you know?Like she was being erased and… I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry, Sole.”

“You don’thave to apologize, babe. I get it.”

Hesniffled. “…I know. You always do, don’t you?” He kissed her forehead, his handon the back of her neck as he pressed his lips against her skin. He then puthis cheeks to hers and stayed like that for a while. “I still remember it, likeit was just last week. Lucy was playing with him, holding him on his lap, andwe talked about something… the crops, I think? And suddenly, that little boyraised a toy in his hand and just said, ‘Mama!’… It was the first word he eversaid.”

Sole feltwhat was left of her tormented heart drop to the bottom of her stomach. “I’msorry,” she said. RJ looked at her in surprise, so she explained, “I feel likeI took that away from you.”

“No.” Hisvoice was suddenly adamant, as if seeing her crying, in pain, made him switchinto protector mode again. “No, you gave my son a home. If he’s able to acceptyou as his mother…”—even as he said that, his voice trembled, “I should behappy. It’s not your fault, and definitely not his, that I can’t handle moving on.”

“You’redoing just fine,” she reassured him with a smile. “As long as we love eachother, we’ll figure everything else out.” He nodded, but she could clearly seeshe made him emotional again. She wiped her face, completely covered in tearsshe didn’t even feel. “Wow,” she mumbled, “we are a pair of tragic messes.” RJlaughed softly, but only held on to her hand as she stood up. “Come on,sweetie. You promised to cook.”

And thatfinally tore a real, honest chuckle from his throat; Sole beamed up alongsidehim. They went back to the kitchen, hand in hand, but before she managed to puthim at the pots, RJ hurried to the duffel bag he had left near the door.

“Hey,Duncan,” he said, “do you wanna see your present?”

The boyjumped up from the rug, letting out something that only vaguely resembled avery loud ‘YES!’. He rushed to the table just as RJ was putting the duffel bagthere and asked, “Is that why you were gone for so long?”

“Yeah,buddy. Had to go get the best for you.” And with that, RJ reached into the bagand pulled out… a BB gun. Sole blinked in surprise. She didn’t expect him to dothat sort of thing, not after all those times when he said he didn’t wantDuncan to have the same life he did, full of violence and blood. But thenagain, was there really any other life to be made in the Commonwealth?

“I know, Iknow,” he said, seeing Sole’s surprised gaze. “But he needs to learn to protecthimself, and the earlier, the better, right? Besides, I mean, it’s just a BBgun, it’s not like he’s going to turn into me…”

Duncan,after doing a round around he house holding the small rifle like a commando,ran back and stood at the table, looking somewhat distraught. Sole took amoment to admire the worksmaship of the weapon. Even if it was just a glorified toy, the barrel was sleek black and the buttpolished to a shine, and there was something special in the way it was built.It must’ve been a unique. And she had no doubts RJ cleaned and oiled it atleast three times on his way back.

“Isanything wrong, love?” she asked noticing Duncan didn’t really know how tostart.

“No, Imean, I really like it, but…” He sucked his lips in, then pouted again. “I wanta scope, too.”

RJ glaredat him, like he wanted to say, ‘NO, YOU DON’T’, but before he could, Sole cautiouslyasked, “Why?”

“’Cause Iwanna be just like Daddy when he shoots.”

Solestifled a laugh, which was an especially difficult task, given RJ’s surprised,almost betrayed face in front of her. “Sure, Duncan,” she said. “We’ll figuresomething out tomorrow, how about that? And for now, just go and play with it,learn how it feels. Okay?” And as Duncan shuffled away, she looked back at RJ.“I think you may have miscalculated a bit, love.”

“Thatlittle…” He shook his head. “You do know it makes no sense, though.”

“Of course,but what harm could it be? I’ll make him a detachable short scope. Let him havefun with it, even if the gun’s range isn’t nearly enough.”

RJ sighedand only then stopped making faces in disbelief. He threw her another odd look,but this time it was one of the good kind. “I have something for you, too,actually,” he said, but before Sole could protest, he added, “it’s not much,don’t freak out. Just a memento, I suppose.” And then he took out a necklacefashioned out of an old silver chain and a rifle round, and placed it in herhand.

“What’sthis?” she asked, feeling like an idiot. RJ said it was a memento, so sheprobably should recognize it from somewhere, but she just couldn’t place it.But he didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s thefirst round I shot after taking up with you. We encountered some raiders on theway to Diamond City? You were taking cover in front of me, and just as I wastaking aim, you stood up with those brass balls of yours and just went at ‘em.Distracted me so much I completely missed. I picked it up afterwards—at first,I was supposed to use it again, but then it just sort of traveled with me andnever found a way into my rifle. So…”

“It’sperfect,” she said, “I love it. Can you…?”

Evenfastening the necklace on her, RJ couldn’t help but make excuses. “I know it’snot much, but…”

“Hey.” Sheturned around and put her arms around his neck again. “It doesn’t matter, love.You already gave me the best Christmas gift I could ever dream of: a family.”

Piper

Solepromptly put it out of her mind—there was a lot to do. She woke Piper with akiss, the kind that made her murmur and stretch, and then put her arms aroundSole’s shoulders and pull her in for continuance. Her house in Diamond Citywasn’t big, but with Sole only dropping by from time to time when she managedto steal away from her other duties, it was more than enough. And even thoughit was insanely early for both of them, they already heard Nat bustling arounddownstairs.

“Wow,” Solesaid. “She got excited for Christmas.”

“Nat?Never,” Piper replied, getting out bed and rushing down the stairs, still onlyin her shirt and shorts. Sole took a moment to appreciate her legs and the waythe oufit showed off certain parts of her, before finally getting dressedherself and following her.

“MerryChristmas!” Nat, wearing an apron, shouted at their sight way more joyfullythan Sole had ever heard her speak. She didn’t even put down the ladle when shehugged them both warmly, and then went back to cooking. Piper looked like she’dbeen hit by lightning.

“What isgoing on?” she whispered to Sole as they went back upstairs to get dressed.“Did the Institute take her.”

“Stop it,”Sole laughed. “It’s just the holiday cheer.”

“No,seriously, Blue… I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Trust me,she’s just possessed by Christmas spirit.” Piper didn’t seem entirelyconvicted, but Sole couldn’t really offer her anything else. She still hadn’ttold her she’d decided to take over the Institute in order to make it betterfor the people of the Commonwealth. She had no idea how Piper would react. Soeven though she knew firsthand Nat was not swapped and that, in fact, no onewould get swapped for a synth ever again, she wasn’t going to tell her that onChristmas morning. “Look, if she still acts like this after the holidays, then you’ll have a reason to be worried.For now, just enjoy it. Come on, she’s cooking for us.”

“Yeah,that’s what worries me the most,” Piper mumbled. “But okay. I’ll put aside mymistrustful journalist nature aside… just for today.”

“Goodgirl,” Sole teased and kissed her again. “Now, come on, I wanna give you yourgift.”

“No!” Piperjumped in immediately. “Me first!” After which, she darted back downstairs withSole close at her heels.

“Really,you should probably see what I got f—” She didn’t finish as Piper pushed a boxup to her face like a little excited girl. It was flat, but quite big, with abig blue bow around it. “Okay…” Sole said as her brow raised, and Piperimmediately got all flustered and adorable.

“O-Okay,maybe I got a little bit too… But I just… Oh, just open it.”

So Sole didand inside she found a… a scrapbook? Well, it was definitely hand-made, withpages glued to the leather-bound cover with wonderglue, probably, and even thecover seemed to be taken from some other book. But it didn’t matter, becausewhen Sole opened it, she found pages and pages and pages of photos of her and Piper, and even some of the others,all from the time they spent traveling together. There was her conversationwith Nick, and here how she went to the mayor’s office, and on the next pagewere even photos of her breaking into Kellogg’s old house… But somehow, ‘thisreporter’ managed to keep herself from captioning every single one, insteadsettling for just a few sarcastic remarks here and there, like the one thatsaid “Justice served hot” at the photo of her going at some raiders with aflamer. Sole felt like she was about to burst out laughing, but instead shejust stood there in awe.

“You… Youwere taking photos the entire time?” she stuttered out, then raised her gaze tolook at Piper’s flustered face.

“Yeah, Imean… Didn’t you ever notice?”

“I… I don’tknow, I guess I didn’t. I mean, I saw you photographing everything else, justnot… me.” She went back to flipping through the pages. Here was their time atCovenant… There, their trip to Vault 81… And at the very end, on the last page,was only one photo—the one they’d made together at the beginning of theirrelationship, here in Diamond City, laying in Piper’s bed as Sole kissed hercheek and Piper couldn’t help but blush and laugh. And the caption said only, “HowI knew”. Sole felt tears pricking at her eyelids.

“Thank you,Red,” she managed to push through her tightened throat.

“You’rewelcome, Blue.” Piper looked like she was about to burst into tears herself,but held herself bravely as she pulled Sole in for a hug. They just couldn’tstay away from each other, could they?, Sole thought, burying her face inPiper’s hair.

“Hey, youtwo lovebirds, how about some help here?” Nat suddenly shouted from the otherside of the room. “Do I have to do everything alone?!”

Piperpulled away from Sole, sniffled; wiped away a tear hanging from Sole’seyelashes; and then she chuckled and said, “Gotta love family, huh?”

Preston

By the timeshe managed to gather strength to get out of bed, the entire town was buzzingwith people gathering up near the tree at the round square. She got dressed andfollowed suit, only to see Preston helping the settlers up several ladders tohang decorations from the branches. She kinda liked him in a position ofleadership. There was just something… something else to the way he distributed tasks among everyone, keeping thembusy, until the entire town worked together to make the most of this Christmas.It honestly warmed Sole’s heart as she walked towards them and people greetedher with happy voices and ‘Merry Christmas’es and ‘good to see you’s.

“Hello,General,” Preston said a bit sheepishly as she approached, even though his facewas sporting a wide grin.

“Hello, myFirst Officer,” she replied cheekily. She could swear he blushed a little, butthankfully, with him, only she was able to tell. “You’re having fun,” she addedas she motioned to the people around.

“It’s reassuringto see people come together and forget about their troubles on a day like this.”He smiled softly. He was talking about the settlers, but he looked only at her.Then he turned his face to the sun as his gaze drifted away and he said,“Everyone’s so cheerful and carefree.”

“What aboutyou?” Sole put her hand on his cheek to turn his face back to her. She didn’teven notice when they’d moved closer to each other, to the point where it mightstart being really uncomfortable to everyone around. She didn’t really care.“How is it today?”

“Could bebetter,” he said, and she knew he meant it was awful. “I mean, last year…”

“I know,”she stopped him before he could fall into that abyss again. “I know.”

Prestonkissed her forehead, drawing comfort for having her close. Or at least that’swhat she thought, given that it was exactly what she was doing.

“I’m justglad we found each other,” he said.

“Me, too.”

They stayedlike that for another minute, linked in that intimate embrace, as everyonebustled around them, shouting and laughing. The sun falling on the decorationscovered the ground around them in colorful flashes.

“Come on,”Preston said eventually, pulling away from her, though with clear effort. “Iwant to give you your present.”

“Shouldn’tyou keep watch on your lemmings?”

He blinkedat her. “What’s a ‘lemming’?”

Solepaused, staring into the distance. “Nevermind,” she replied eventually. “Oldworld stuff. Lead on, then. Where did you hide it?”

“Like I’mgoing to tell you,” he smiled at her. “Where would I hide your future presentsthen? Just wait here.” He left her at the porch of their house as hedisappeared behind the one across the street, but then he was gone for so longshe couldn’t tell where he went anymore. Bastard.

And then henearly gave her a heart attack when he came up from behind her saying, “Well,what are you waiting for?” As soon as she was done shrieking, she slapped hisarm as he laughed. Oh, it was so nice to see that poor man laughing. “Come intothe house, love. It’s there on the counter.”

And whenSole looked, she saw a fully modified laser musket laid out in the kitchen,obviously custom made, repainted in blue and white, and with the Minutemen logolovingly engraved on the side. She picked it up gently and turned it in herhands, marveling at the handiwork.

“You saidyou didn’t like the muskets for how long it took to wind them up, so I figuredout how to make it automatic,” Preston said, coming up and embracing her frombehind. “Do you like it?”

“Huh.” Sheput it to her shoulder and let go a quick series of lasers through the openside door at the wreck of her old car that was still standing on the drivewayeven though she was supposed to break it down to pieces probably like twomonths ago. But, well, it turned to ash in a matter of seconds now, so… problemsolved? She threw Preston a glance over her shoulder just to see his perplexedface. Oops. Seems he didn’t expect her to just start shooting it right away. “Ilove it,” she said cheerfully, and bent herself awkwardly to pull him in for akiss. Preston shook his head leniently, but gave in to her and they spent thenext few minutes passionately making out in the middle of the living room asSole only tried not to drop her new gift on the floor.

“Now,”Preston said when they finally ran out of breath and had to pull away, “time toget back to our family, huh?”

[sherlockholmesandhisinability]

Sherlock Holmes and His Inability to Sing.

“Oi, Sherlock! Put the bloody heater on- it’s freezing in ‘ere.” Whined Greg as he slammed the ice laden 221B door. Gossamer shards slid from the wood and landed on the pavement with a shattering crescendo, sounding like the twitching chirps of a wind-chime long forgotten and surrendered to the December robins.

“Brr, God’s sake- how cold is it in here? Lads? Lads?” He marched up the stairs and pressed his ear up against the door, before falling silent and listening. There was nothing to be heard.

“Right! I’m coming in!”

He stepped back, oblivious of the perilous drop of stairs behind him, and ran forward, throwing his body weight against the door and swinging it open violently with the power of his shoulder. He stumbled into the room and scrambled to his feet,

“Police! Police! John? Sherlock?!”

Instantly, sprang up a blanket woven around a slim frame and pulled over its head. It unfurled with such force that it couldn’t handle its momentum and so plummeted forward inelegantly.

“Argh, J-John? John?!”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Sherlock, it’s me- Greg. You texted! Said it was an emergency. Ring a bell? God, I was panicking! Here, get up,”

He scooped the bundle from the floor warmly and held it by the shoulders. “You alright, then?”

“Yes. Fine.” Ached Sherlock as he wriggled free.

“Come on, you soft git- take that off and tell me what’s happening.“ He reached to unsheathe the man in the blanket, but he swerved and writhed his way to the desk. He sat down wearily and began to explain,

“John’s doing Christmas this year, but a ‘proper family Christmas’, so he calls it. With a bird of somesort-”

“A turkey?”

“Yes, that’s the one. And it’ll be just us; John, myself and Rosie. With presents.”

“Presents, eh? Oh lord no, not presents!” The Detective Inspector chuckled.

“Yes, presents, Greg. Do keep up. Anyway- it’ll be the whole affair and I don’t really know what to do about it.”

“Hang on. You called me over here in the middle of rush hour, because you can’t handle Christmas?! Bloody Hell, Sherlock! You’re a Dad now!”

“I’m not a Dad!” He screamed, “That’s just the issue! I am not a Dad! I am not Rosie’s father…” He paused solemnly, “But I am the reason she does not have a mother.”

Greg’s eyes softened. He sighed sorrowfully and pressed his lower lip into his other.

“Oh, Sherlock. I- I didn’t know- I didn’t know you felt like that. Heck, I didn’t even know you felt at all!” He placed his hand on the plush throw. “You can’t change what happened, but you can change what will happen. What’s the biggest issue you’ve got with the big C?”

“Rosie’s having a little concert with the children from the nursery later on today.”

“Yes, go on.“

“And the parents are supposed to sing with their children.”

“Oh, that’s nice. What’s it called then?”

Sherlock’s nose flared and he breathed in and out slowly, before spitting, 

“Mummy and Daddy Sing-a-Long Christmas Bonanza.”

“But… you’re two Daddies.”

“Yes, wait no! No and yes. Yes, that’s true and the name of the event is utterly stupid in every sense- and no, that is not the issue. The issue is… I can’t sing.”

“Now, come on! I’m sure you’re not that bad! Gimme a quick rendition.”

“No.”

“Go on. Just a quickie. Oh shit, I meant a quick one. Shit! A quick song!”

“No.”

“Oh, I see,” Said Greg as he shook his head, “I see the problem. You’re Sherlock Holmes. The Sherlock Holmes! It’s not that you can’t sing- you just won’t.”

“Can’t, won’t, whatever. What should I do?”

“I think you should just suck it up and do it.”

“No,” whimpered the blanket. It stood and shuffled back to the sofa, where it’s sulking sessions usually took place. “No, that’s not what I wanted you to say!”

“I don’t know what to tell ya, Sherl. No, I don’t that. Sher…ly? Ack- no. Right, I’m off. Things to be done. Actual problems to be solved! I’m an important man you know!”

“If you are so important, then how does the station run without you?”

“It doesn’t! Oh forget this- I’m goin’. See you round. I’ll probably see you online actually! ‘Sherlock Holmes Sings ‘Jingle Bells’. What a video that’d be!”

“Ngh.”

“You’re gonna go viral! London loves you!”

And just like that, he was gone. The only trace was a trail of ice and water, mixed with the dirt from boots never cleaned.

“I won’t sing!”

Two shots rang out, as two very neat bullet holes were made in the wall. The sniper coughed feebly as the dull plaster snowed into the tussled mahogany mop that his face was buried in.

“Sherlock?!”

The door slammed again, this time with the brute force used to open it. The walls reverberated from the impact that struck the room. The same force plundered its way up the stairs, but slowly. Carefully. There was another force, a minute one, in front of it.

“Rosie, honey, go and play in my bedroom. Here, take my phone. There you go. Daddy wants to talk to Dad.”

“Okay Daddy, I love you, Daddy.”

“I know honey, I love you too. Now go on, go and play.” I said warmly as I advanced. Sherlock’s ears pricked up and he turned to face me. He sprung around with his dark hair thickly shot with grey.

“John! How was shopping?”

I gave him a hard stare. The coldest, most stern look on my face spoke only of rage and disapproval. I was just thankful I took that bloody Santa hat off outside because Heaven help Sherlock if he laughed now.

“The wall.” I grunted through my teeth. “I asked you not to shoot at the wall.”

“I didn’t think you were going to know. You were out, and you’re not the most observant of people.” He giggled.

I scowled more, carving the lines deeper into my worn face. “I think I’d notice bullet holes, Sherlock.”

“Can you see them now?”

I looked at the wallpaper. Black and white motif. It was useless trying to see anything, a high-vis jacket could get lost in that pattern.

“I- I… I- no. I don’t see it. But, that doesn’t mean you can go tearing up our flat just because you’re pissed about something!”

“Daddy,” toddled in Rosie, “Can I put my show dress on? My Chi- Crisna- Chra-”

“Christmas. Rosamund, listen, Christmas.”

“Sherlock, when you’re correcting our daughter, please be more-”

“Our daughter? John, no. This, it’s too much!”

“Dad?”

“Sherlock?

“No, no, no! I’m not her father, John, you are!”

“Sherlock.”

“I can’t do it!”

I tossed my head back ever so slightly, so I could swallow the bulge in my throat. I croaked, 

“Can’t do what, Sherlock?”

“This! Any of it!” He shrunk and crouched on his knees, eyes level with Rosie’s, and spoke firmly, “I will not be singing with you this evening, Rosamund. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“And… Daddy might ask you to stop calling me Dad, okay Rosamund?”

I drew in my shaking breath and clenched my sweating palms. I felt my pulse raise and pound through my whole body. The heartbeat heated my burning face. I was so consumed with fury and despair, that the edges of my vision blackened and blurred, and I struggled to stay on my feet. 

“And why, Sherlock… why would I do that?”

“Because I am a terrible parent, an unfit guardian and a danger to those in this flat. I am not meant to be like you! Warm and affectionate and kind and-”

“Do you still want to marry me?”

“I, John-”

“On October 31st, just under two months ago, you got down on one knee- in this very spot- and tried to propose to me. I said ‘yes’ and it was amongst the most spectacular nights of my life. But if you don’t want to marry me, then, then, then leave!”

“John, calm down-”

“Do you want to marry me or not?!”

He looked into my bloodshot eyes and at the oceans flooding my face. I stood defensively, with the look of a wild animal stitched into my skin. 

He then looked down at the dainty girl staring up at him sorrowfully.

“I’m going out.” He stated as he wrapped the mauve scarf around his neck and grabbed his coat.

“Sherlock, Sherlock if I don’t see you at that ‘Sing-a-Long’-”

“Ugh!”

“If I do not see you at that event tonight, then do not even think of showing your face around here ever again! Do you understand me?!”

He looked at me expressionlessly and turned to face the door. He stopped. He thought. He continued and left me with my crying daughter, equally as broken as I was.

The hours passed and I found myself at the nursery with my face wizened by the bitter air drying my tears. It was dark, but Rosie’s face was bright with excitement. She was bounding up and down, and the light from her hands shifted as she moved.

“Careful honey, don’t burn yourself on that Christingle.”

“Okay Daddy.”

It was dark and melancholy. Though there was a warmth in my hand, there was none within me. I looked at my watch. Quarter to six. We started at six. I waved at Mums and Dads galore as I waded through the crowds of harmonious parents. I looked at so many faces, but I was only looking for one. 

I couldn’t forgive him, but I needed him to be here with me.

Six o’clock came and we all gathered at the front of the tiny hall. Grandparents and assorted relatives perched eagerly on the edge of their metal fold-away seats, with camcorders and flip-phones at the ready. 

On came the music from the CD player, ‘Silent night, holy night…’

“Wait! Stop! John! John!”

The hall was filled with the sharp echoes of wooden soles on a polished floor. From between the rows of chairs, ran a lanky suit, with a black case under his arm and a wide grin on his cadaverous face.

“Sherlock!”

“Daddy!”

“One moment! Terribly sorry folks, I will be just one moment!”

From his case, he produced an ornate violin and bow, much to the amazement of the octogenarians in the audience reciting the famous Detective’s name in awe.

He bounded up to the front and floated down gracefully to Rosie’s level and embraced her. He didn’t say anything, but simply crossed his legs, plucked her from the floor and placed her on the right side of his lap, with the instrument on his left shoulder. He tapped the bow on the floor jovially and waved at the elderly lady at the helm of the CD player,

“From the top, if you please!”

As the music began to play, Rosie giggled and shoved the flaming orange in her hands into Sherlock’s face.

“Da- Sherlock? Do you like my Chr- Cwi- Chee-”

“Christingle, my dear Watson, the word is Chris-tin-gle”

He then synchronised his notes with that of the music and occasionally played different ones, deepening the richness of the multiple tones of what otherwise would have been a very simple melody. 

He whispered lowly, “Rosie, dear, call me Dad.”

I wasn’t done with him just yet, but the walk home was going to be a lot less lonely with my fiance at my side.

[deathbyseventeen]

Guardian Angel || Joshua AU

Title: Guardian Angel || Holiday Collection: Christmas || Part of my 13 days of Seventeenmas || Request (from that* list: Angel Joshua AU) 

Member: Joshua x Reader 

Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, a bit of angst 

Words: 2480

Warning: A slight death scene w/blood BUT nothing major (at least to me).

A/N This feels not as well written as it could be :/ Let me know what you think! 

The faded blue lines seemed to grow before blurring together. Your pen seemed to get heavier as it hovered above the page.

Your head buzzed.

You had taken some notes on the page, not many— the professor’s lecture had been brief and had ended with a “simple” question. One single question that for some unexplainable reason — except that the topic had always existed in the depths of your brain — seemed to rattle you.

You blinked, the words came into focus: Renaissance Art 14th to 17th Century: Religious Depictions: Angles.  

“I head that the sound of chiming bells means an angel has just been born.” The girl in front of you stated matter-of-fact.

You looked up, wordlessly and dazed.

“That,” The girl on your left dragged out with an uncertainty laced with her voice, “doesn’t sound right.”

“You’re thinking of a child’s first laugh,” another on your right chimed in, “and of the of the beginning monologue of the Tinkerbell movie.”

The first sighed and twisted around to look at you. “What do you think?”

You blinked.

What did you think? You looked down at your notes, staring unblinkingly at the questions you had scribbled down from the lecture.

What’s the relationship between human and angel in Renaissance art? Where do angels come from and why?

Without lifting your gaze from the page, you responded, “I was told that whenever a child dies, someone under seventeen and for the majority, innocent - they become angels.”

Dead silence

“This is stupid.” The one on the left snapped, “why are we even answering this? This is a Literature class, not an art class.”

You nodded, retreating back into your thoughts until the professor would let you go, “Right.”

Joshua coughed into his arm, eyes red, and wings flapping quickly to blow away the smoke that had been formed from another failed attempt to search the globe.

“This has to stop. We both know that the guardian globe is not meant to be used this way.”

“I don’t care, Jeonghan. I can feel them. They’re upset. They need me. It’s my fault I’m not on earth, alive and with them.” Joshua said offhandedly.

“There was no guarantee you’d be with them even if you still were alive.” Jeonghan insisted, pulling back Joshua’s arm as he attempted to reach for the globe again.

Joshua turned his head to look at Jeonghan. Jeonghan sighed and loosened his grip on his elbow. He could see it in his eyes, that longing that even he pushed back, only Joshua also had a desperation. A guilt to appease.

Even more, Joshua would have been a hopeless romantic.

Amidst the images that flashed through their brains while they were dying, were images of their future, the soulmate they were unable to meet, the future that would no longer come.

That was Joshua Hong’s, a Guardian Angel, unfinished business, finding his soulmate even if he was dead.

“Please,” Jeonghan said softly, “let’s just go back to assigning scout angles a person to protect.”

Jeonghan didn’t need any words, the single shake of the head from Joshua and he had his answer. He nodded wordlessly and let go of Joshua’s arm.

Joshua turned back to the lifeless globe, sensing one random person was hard enough, using a great deal of energy from him. He hoped finding you would be easier, but he knew it’d be harder.

He closed his eyes, extended his wings and made them flutter rapidly before stopping and giving one hard flap.

Jeonghan, on the other side of Joshua’s globe, bit the bottom of his lips and watched as the other opened his eyes. Gone were his brown irises and white edges, replacing the whole of his eyes was a golden glow.

Joshua suppressed a whimper, his hands hovering above the globe were starting to burn.

“Joshua...”Jeonghan began, “Joshua let it go! Let the pull go!” Smoke was starting to seethe out of the top of the globe.

“I c-can’t.” Joshua forced out.

Jeonghan grabbed Joshua’s arm and pushed, trying to get them away from the smoking mess. But, the ground beneath their feet gave way and they felt a crushing pressure throw them down.  

Instantly, they felt themselves crash against the hard ground.

They both opened their eyes, blue skies, and green grass. In the distance, far below them, they could see the outlines of houses.

“Oh, no. No no no no no.” Jeonghan groaned. “We’ve been demoted to scout angels.” He cried.

Joshua shook his head, stopping at the edge of the cliff, before extending his wings and flapping them in the soft wind. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll find them.”

You tapped your fingers impatiently against the desk of your desktop. The webpage that you need for virtual Christmas shopping was taking its sweet time to load.

You stared at the round loading icon, following a single bubble until you couldn’t distinguish it from the rest. A rasp against your bedroom window made you jump.

You turned to it. Your eyes widened. The pane was frosting over quickly, only a small section remaining clear, in the shape of a snowflake.

‘What the hell?’ You thought to yourself. It didn’t snow in your town, let alone drop to freezing temperatures.

You leaned over the desk to place a hand against the frozen pane and winced when it stung.

“Y/N!” You shook your head and lifted the latch on your window before leaning out. A small pebble bounced off your forehead.

“What the hell Seungcheol?! There’s only one floor to my house, you could have just waited.”

“Sorry.” He laughed.

“What do you want anyway?”

“There’s a party by the old abandoned lot. It’s Christmas themed. Only us returned from college kids.” He sang, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You made a sound of agreement and closed the window. The frost art was gone.

The old abandoned forest lot was of a modest size, big enough to hold all of the town’s undergrad kids who were home for winter break; but it was also small enough that it didn’t feel like the town population was sparse in your age range.

Fairy lights are were strung across trees, a keg off to the side toward the middle with bottles of vodka and tequila on a table next to it. At the front was a DJ and in front of him were some old high school classmates already drunk as hell.

“I didn’t actually think you’d agree to this.” Seungcheol laughed, though he was drowned out by the music.

“I needed a night off of hell.” You yelled, handing him a red cup you filled with beer.

“Uni’s been hell?” He asked, reaching over you for a slice of lime and salt that he poured hazardously into the palm of his hand before licking it, sucking on the lemon, and finally taking a drink.

You stifled a laugh by taking a sip of your drink.

Seungcheol cocked an eyebrow, “You do this too.”

“Not on the first drink.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, “Then I guess I’ll leave you alone for a while, while I go find Ren.” He raised his cup at you as he was walking away.

You nodded, turning back to add vodka to your drink.

In a matter of seconds, you felt the temperature drop and snow began to fall. Confused, you stuck a hand out to catch one.

“I didn’t know it snowed all the way out here.”

A soft voice startled you; and to calm yourself, you took a big gulp from your cup before turning to face the voice.

“It doesn’t.” You began, trying to catch the man’s eye but failing. He wore a burgundy blazer and a hoodie underneath. That same hoodie was pulled over his head, hiding of half his face.

“Ren probably bought some snow machine to show off. You’re not from here are you?” You finished by taking another drink.

“No,” he smiled. That’s as much as he let you see, his smile, curling upwards. “I moved here a few months ago.”

You nodded and stood up straighter to shake his hand, “Well it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” He shook your hand, “I know this may be crossing the line, but maybe you should stop drinking and have some water instead.”

His voice was caring, though you could hear some urgency in his voice.

“Here.” He said and produced a bottle from his other hand.

“Um, thanks.” You replied.

You twisted the cap off and as you drank, closed your eyes momentarily. Then when you opened them again, he was gone.

You swiveled around, trying to find him with your eyes, but there was no trace of him. No footprints on the ground either.

“Y/N!” Seungcheol yelled as he came to a stop in front of you, Ren, his friend in tow.

“Has anyone new moved into town?” You asked straight away.

“Um no.”  Seungcheol gave you a weird look.

Silently, you looked down at your hands where you gripped the bottle.

“Oh hey, nice snow effect.” Seungcheol complimented Ren.

“Thanks, but it wasn’t me. Must have been Aron.”

“So this is them?” Jeonghan asked, leaning against the table of alcohol and eyeing you up and down.

“This is them,” Joshua said, using the backside of his hand to caress your cheek. He smiled softly when your eyes fluttered shut and your head dropped like you were fighting back sleep.

The water bottle he had produced still in your hand, he touched and influenced you to take another drink.

“How you holding up?” Jeonghan asked, wrapping an arm around him to keep him from collapsing.

“Okay.” He laughed, “I didn’t think ten minutes would take so much energy. I couldn’t even tell them…” He trailed off, focusing on the way you slapped your cheek to wake up.

“So what now?”

“I recuperate and try again.” He whispered, nudging Jeonghan to follow you as you started walking home.

You had to be hallucinating, that just had to be it. There was no way, what was happening was actually happening. But how exactly were you hallucinating? You had only had two shots last night on Christmas Eve and had fallen asleep right after.

You weren’t even a light drinker, so two shots should have been nothing.

But if you weren’t hallucinating….

How the hell did that present end up on your nightstand? The door is LOCKED. The windows: LOCKED.

Gulping, you reached for the present and undid its bow and wrapping. Slowly you lifted the lid and peered inside.

A single piece of paper.

Meet me at the old abandoned lot.

You gulped. You shouldn’t. But….’I mean….it’s probably just Seungcheol. Who knows how he got in here.’ You thought to yourself.

White. Everything was white. The snow had to be fake. But, then, why did it feel so cold under the touch of your fingers.

You shook it off, if hallucinated once, there was a chance for it to happen again. But on the same day? Dang.

“Hello?!” You screamed in the empty expanse. “Seungcheol?! Why’d you ask me to meet you here?!”

Silence.

You let out a deep breath and pivoted on your heel, ready to turn around and walk back.

Instantly, the wind picked up and snow began to violently thrash around.

You stumbled, hiding your eyes behind the palm of your hands.

Then it stopped and a warmth flooded your body. Arms wrapped around you, and even though you could hear the violent winds, you couldn’t feel them.

“You can open your eyes.”

That soft voice. Your eyes flew open and instantly meet a pair of gold-filled ones, making yours widen.

“I’m sorry about my eyes. It happens when I materialize. But I promise you, you’re not hallucinating.”

“Ma-Materialized?” You whispered. He nodded.

You twisted in his arms to see around you; and, even though everything was still white, it was different. It was soft. They were wings.

“What are you?” You whispered.

“A guardian angel.” He began. “I need to tell you something, but it’s a bit unorthodox. But, please don’t be afraid.”

You nodded and waited for him to speak. But, he didn’t, instead, he slowly bent down to capture his lips with yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you responded to his kiss. Like magic, a movie began to play in your head.

“You look a bit drunk, don’t you think?” It was him, at that party you were at a week ago. But, he wasn’t hiding his face anymore. He was dressed virtually the same, only now he wore a black turtleneck under his blazer. His hair was a beautiful golden brown, and his eyes, oh his eyes, they were brown.

“And so what if I am?” You laughed at him.

He smiled and pulled a water bottle from under the table, “Take a drink of this instead. Wouldn’t want something to happen to you.”

“True.” You smiled grabbing the bottle. Then like something had pressed the skip button, you were older and about to be married.

“And do you take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” You grinned at him. He who was wearing a black tux and had his hair slicked back.

“I do.”

“Then I pronounce you—“ You couldn’t wait, you pulled him forward and smashed your lips onto his.

Then again.

“Joshua?!” You screamed, holding a crying baby to your chest. So his name was Joshua. You could feel yourself crying and smiling all at the same as you kissed him.

“Sorry, sorry.” He laughed, “I was tucking—“

“It’s fine, just please.” You whined motioning to the baby.

He laughed and grabbed your son, rocking him in his arms and instantly stopping the crying. The baby was asleep and he went to tuck him in.

A moment later he came back empty handed and pulled you onto the couch. You cuddled into his arms and he nudged your hair with his nose.

Then it stopped and you were in a dark alley. It was you, but it didn’t feel like the future. You stepped out and looked around.

A little boy was walking up the street, playing with a rubber ball.

Joshua.

A man with white wings, another guardian angel, was walking beside him, unbeknownst to him.

Then like a flash of lighting, a man with dark wings flew to a stop in front of him and caused the ball to roll into the street.

Joshua stared at it but made no motion to move. Both angels whispered into his ear, Joshua hesitated.

The dark angel growled and threw itself at the other angel. They struggled but ultimately, the dark one got a second ahead to whisper in Joshua’s ear.

“Joshua, no!” You screamed running to catch up to him. But it was too late, not you nor was the guardian angel able to reach him in time.

A car came ‘round the corner and into a screeching halt. But it was too late, it had hit Joshua.

You cried out in shock, watching as a trail of blood formed around him.

Then it all came crashing down, you were back in Joshua’s arms, crying.

“I’m your soulmate. My future was taken from me, this wasn’t supposed to be my fate.” He cried. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I can’t stay much longer in this form. It takes too much of my energy.”

“Joshua.” You cried.

“You’re not hallucinating, I promise. Please believe me.”

“I believe you.” You whispered, placing your nose against his.

“I love you.” He whispered. “I’ll always be around you, as a guardian angel, I promise.”

You nodded.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” He said, already fading from your vision.

“Merry Christmas, Joshua.”