#the coloring is off in some of these but we move

[shy-writer-999]

Ice skating with Law ❄️ (fluff)

Summary: When Law takes you on an ice skating date, he can't help but show off both his feelings for you and his skating skills. ~950 words. CW: Fluff! G/N language. Kissing. Holding hands. Sweet stuff!

Artwork by @hirakyun13 - thanks so much for collabing with me!

“Just hold on, I won’t let you fall.” Law held out a gloved hand to you and when you laced your fingers with his, he squeezed your hand in a gesture of comfort and security.

The ice was bright. Glaring sun reflected off its smooth surface, marred in places by the tracks that metal blades drew on top. The ice rink was empty except the two of you, the clearing in the forest was gorgeous and quiet, the sky was bright blue—it was picturesque, dream-like.

As Law guided you across the ice, you wobbled a bit.

“You’re favoring your right foot,” Law pointed out, looking down at your form while you struggled to keep up with his already-slow pace. “Make sure to put your weight evenly on both skates and lead with both interchangeably. Good form means you can do cool stuff later.”

He smiled at your look of dismay (it was quite endearing to him). You groaned. “Aghhhh. Okay. Like this?” Your adjustment looked adequate enough to him and he nodded.

The only thing audible after a while was the smooth sound of your skates moving almost in tandem with each other, cutting the surface of the icy rink.

“You’ve been skating since you were a kid, right?” You asked Law and he nodded.

“Yeah, I went when I was growing up a lot with my parents and sister but… After… Well, you know. Certain circumstances meant I didn’t make a habit of it for a long time. It was only when the Heart Pirates formed and got more comfortable in the North Blue sea that we had time and safety to do that sort of stuff. To have fun, I mean.”

Some silence passed. Comfortable silence. You slipped and almost fell, but Law held you up. As you looked up at him, he cracked a smile.

“See? You’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

You blushed. It had been a minute since your faces were this close. When you were back to skating after your almost-wipeout, you felt steadier and more confident.

“There you go,” Law encouraged. “You’re getting the hang of it. That was fast.”

A few laps around the rink with Law holding you steady and he decided you’d be set to try it on your own. “I’m going to make you do it yourself now. You ready?”

When you agreed, you skated side by side for a while. It was a gorgeous day and every ray of sun that reflected off the ice surface of the rink and onto his face made your heart flip. He was so handsome it was mind boggling. When light filtered onto his hair, you saw how rich the color of those dark locks was. Multi-dimensional and stunning. Just like his eyes. And while you quietly remarked on his beauty to yourself, he did the same for you.

“You can do cool tricks, right?” You asked him playfully after a while.

“You’re not going to actually make me do some, are you?” Law responded, frowning. He hated this sort of thing. He felt like a clown. But… if you were asking, then he’d have to oblige. Anything for you.

He begrudgingly put on a little show. He was obviously comfortable on the ice, skating backwards for a bit before doing some sort of cool twisting thing. A jump and a fast turn. It was impressive.

“Woooowwwwww,” you clapped when he came to a stop next to you. “That was crazy impressive. What else can you do?”

You smiled at him, and he froze for a second, turning crimson. You saw his gears turning.

“How about this?” Law asked, then reached for your hand and softly pulled you towards him. When you were close enough, he placed a hand on your waist and pulled you into a kiss.

He certainly caught you by surprise. It had been a while since you locked lips—circumstantially, you didn’t have much time for it on the ship.

Any opportunity for affection or quality time was treasured. Ice skating like this and taking a break from everything on the sea felt like a vacation, a reprieve from every painful wound you both held. If you thought about it long enough, you would have realized that this was the first actual date Law had taken you on.

When he pulled away from the kiss, you were both smiling. “I mean, that wasn’t what I had in mind, but I’m not complaining,” you giggled.

“Well, if you’re not complaining then, by all means,” Law brought a hand to your cheek and guided his lips to yours again.

His kisses were delicate. After a few moments, he pulled away. His cheeks were dusted pink with blush and his hand stayed on your cheek for a minute as he took in the sight of your face, so pretty and so close to him.

“Let’s take a break,” Law said. “That sound okay?”

When you agreed and exited the skating rink, Law set up a place for you to sit together. A waterproof blanket below, a fuzzy blanket on top, thermoses of spiked, piping-hot cocoa, and some snacks.

You snacked together and warmed yourself to the bone with the hot cocoa. It was a picture-perfect set up, thoughtful and considerate just like Law himself. After more skating and a snowy trek back to the Polar Tang, the crew couldn’t contain their excitement seeing you and the captain hand in hand with ruddy cheeks. They had matchmaked for far too long—now that it was a reality, they were elated.

They welcomed you back on board the submarine with the most embarrassing and raucous round of cheers and chanted “kiss! kiss! kiss!” to rub it in your faces. You did, in fact, share a kiss in front of the crew, something that they never let you live down. You didn’t mind it all that much, though.

that's all for this one!! make sure to check out becca's page, since she's so damn talented it isn't fair - @hirakyun13!

here's my masterlist if you're interested, and the masterlist for this holiday event. tysm for reading :3

[whoops-all-jennas]

Past Lives pt.3

Wednesday x witch!reader

"I've got this strangest feeling."

"This isn't our first time around."

Summary: Wednesday drags you into the woods during the harvest festival.

a/n: I'm starting to get tired of writing in 3rd person so I'm going to be experimenting with perspectives this part. If I enjoy it I might go back and change the previous two parts to first person.

"Are you sure you can trust that normie?"

Enid and I are watching as Tyler is arguing with his father. Y/n left after the appearance of Tyler.

A part of me wished she stayed, she doesn't pretend to get along with me.

"I trust I can handle myself."

The festival illuminates the dark night, the lights of the attractions drawing shadows of the people walking by. The colors stabbing needles in my eyes.

I usually enjoy that sensation.

"Well, good luck and safe travels." Enid reaches out for an embrace. I take a step back, evading her touch.

"Still not a hugger, got it." Enid lowers her arms before heading towards the attractions.

I notice Weems from afar, watching my every move. I am going to need a way to distract her.

After a moment of exploring I find an attraction where you throw darts at balloons attached to a wall, the prize lacks colors. Not that I want the prize anyways I just need it to be believable.

I throw the first couple darts, balloons popping in quick succession. Xavier approaches, resting his elbows on the counter.

"Jeez, if you get any better at this you'll be taking home a whole pack." He says while I throw another dart, followed by the pop of another balloon.

I am unsure of how to feel about Xavier so far. All I know outside of me accidentally rescuing him years ago is that he's friends with Y/n.

"Panda's don't travel in packs, they prefer solitude."

I say, the sound of a balloon popping announcing the period.

"Alright, subtle hint taken." His eyes fall off me and to the board.

I look at him for a moment. "You should know I'm waiting for someone." I say, not realizing the possible implication of the statement.

"Oh yeah? Who's the lucky guy? or girl." He has a hint of hope on his face, but not for himself.

"What does it matter to you?" I say while Tyler approaches from behind, the hope on his face replaced with annoyance.

"Didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not." Xavier walks between Tyler and I, the energy radiating off him.

With him and y/n being friends and having similar reactions to Tyler, it makes me wonder if he's done something to them.

I look to Tyler for a moment, possibilities forming in my head. It doesn't matter, I'm just using him anyways.

"This is gonna be trickier than I thought." Tyler's voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Dad hit me with a curfew. We need to go if I'm gonna make it back in time."

"I've got some dead weight I need to lose first." I look over Tyler's shoulder to Weems who is eating a burger.

"Meet me behind the parking lot when the fireworks start." I say, Tyler nodding before walking off.

The man running the attraction approaches with the panda stuffed animal. "You see that sad, lonely woman over there?" I take out twenty dollars, holding it between my index and middle fingers.

"She needs this pathetic validation more than I do. Would you mind distracting her?"

The man brings the stuffed animal to Weems, when she looks away from me I sneak off towards the parking lot.

-

I'm hanging out with Enid when Tyler and Wednesday pass by.

"So she's actually leaving?" I say with disappointment in my voice. I'm gonna miss her existing with me in the dorm room.

"I mean, that's what the plan is." Enid takes a sip from a drink she got while eyeing me suspiciously.

"Why?" Enid's eyes glisten, wanting to know everything about everyone.

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know."

"You sure you don't know?" Enid wiggles her eyebrows at you.

I raise an eyebrow at her accusation. "What does that even mean?"

"I just think you might, y'know, like like her. No one misses a new roommate after one day." Enid says, fidgeting with the straw of her drink.

I felt a wave a heat rush over my face. "No! what are you talking about."

"OMG you so totally do!" If being a werewolf came with a tail, Enid's tail would be wagging so fast she would be flying.

"No! I just think." I pause for a second, flustered by the accusations.

I haven't thought about it yet, do I like her? I mean she is pretty, but I don't know her.

"Just think what?"

"I don't know, she's just pretty that's all!"

Enid's face beams. "Ah! that's so cute!"

Enid was gonna continue speaking until you both get distracted by Wednesday and Tyler running past.

"Wednesday?" I say, looking back to Enid who is gesturing me to go.

I started to run after her, hearing Enid shout from behind. "Go get her girl!" She might as well have painted my face red.

I finally catch up. "Wednesday!" This causing her to turn to me, bumping into Rowan as she enters another vision.

Tyler and I are quick to grab her as she falls. "What just happened?!" Tyler asks before she comes back to reality.

Wednesday stands readjusting her balance, staring at Rowan.

"Wednesday we need to go." Tyler says urgently. Wednesday's eye contact shift to me before she starts chasing after Rowan, grabbing me by the wrist.

"What's happening Wednesday?" I say, trying to keep up with Wednesday's speed as she drags me.

"Rowan come back!" Wednesday let's go of my wrist after my feet catch up.

After a few seconds of running, Wednesday turns to look at me.

"Do you have your wand?"

"Yeah I always do."

Air quickly fills and leaves my chest, your legs start burning at the sudden activity.

Soon we both catch up to Rowan in the woods. You're eyes take a minute to adjust to the sudden darkness of the forest.

Rowan brings his inhaler to his face, taking a deep breath in.

"Rowan, wait!" Wednesday's steps lessen as we get closer

Rowan groans, annoyed. "What do you want? Why are you following me."

I look at Wednesday, wanting to know what's happening. I know she had a vision, but what did she see?

"I don't have time to explain, but you're in danger." Wednesday responds with a serious tone. This is the first time I've heard her this serious, she usually has a sarcastic tone to her voice.

Rowan chuckles for a moment. "I think you've got it backwards." Rowan looks between us deciding what to do.

I start to reach for my wand, his eyes following my hand.

Rowan reaches a hand towards me. I start flying through the air, it feels like an invisible hand is twisting my body controlling how I'm landing.

"Y/n!" Wednesday shouts before I hit my head on landing. My hair fading to white as I lose consciousness.

-

I wake up in the nurses office, quickly sitting up and instantly regretting it. My snow white hair in my face while the world spins around me.

The office is filled with daylight, what time is it?

I realize my hair is white before moving it out of my face.

"Shit." I mutter to myself, looking around to see if anyone's around before trying to stand to find the bathroom.

When I stand, I almost fall as I stabilize my feet. I see my wand on the night stand.

I grab my wand, gripping it tightly as to not drop it.

As I approach the bathroom, I stumble onto the wall before practically falling through the doorway of the bathroom.

I met my own gaze in the reflection of the mirror, my hair white and messy.

I rest one hand on the sink, putting all my weight on it, as I bring my wand to the top of my head.

y/h/c starts to fade back into your hair, starting from the roots to tip.

Now that looks more like me, well besides how out of it I look.

I go to leave the bathroom, falling to the ground past the doorway.

"Y/n!" There are quick steps as the nurse approaches me trying to stand.

"What are you doing out of bed?" She grabs my arm before guiding me back to the bed.

"Wait here a moment, I'll bring your medicine." The nurse walks to a closet as I stay sitting up.

My head was throbbing, the world spinning around me.

She leaves the closet after a moment with a small bottle that is rapidly bubbling, some sort of steam coming out of the bottle.

"Drink every last drop and you should be able to attend some of your classes today." Our nurse was the only other witch in the school, most magic parents aren't too keen on sending their child to a town that burnt witches in the past.

I start to drink the potion, the liquid bubbling down my throat almost causing me to gag.

"It doesn't taste too good." I say after I finish drinking the potion. The nurse grabbing the bottle from my hand

"Well it's not grape-flavored, I'll tell you that." The nurse gives me a smile before going to return the bottle.

The world soon stabilizes around me, my head no longer throbbing.

I stand, finding it ten times easier.

"Fascinating isn't it?" I hear the nurse from the other room. "I've always loved healing magic."

I look towards her. "I would say it's just like magic, but it literally is."

The nurse smiles at me. "If you're feeling better you may head to class."

-

I walk into my carnivorous plants class, everyone already in seats as class was already going on.

"Ah Y/n! glad to see you're okay." Ms. Thornhill interrupts herself to bring her attention to you. "Go ahead and take any seat like usual."

I was going to find my original seat next to Xavier until I see Wednesday sitting alone.

I take a moment to decide before taking the seat next to her, meeting Xavier's eyes as he gives me a knowing glance causing me to roll my eyes.

My glance moves to Wednesday as I find her looking at me, more specifically my hair.

"Hey Wednesday." Wednesday's gaze moves from my hair to my eyes.

Her look has concern in it, as if she's asking 'Are you okay,' through her eyes. Too scared of the intimacy of actually asking.

Ms. Thornhill was helping a student independently giving us a moment to talk.

"Why did your hair turn white last night, after you lost consciousness."

I look at Wednesday, thinking about what I should share.

"That white is my natural hair color, I was just raised to hide it so I guess I still do it out of habit."

Wednesday stares off to the side for a moment.

"What does it mean?"

After a moment of silence I decide to tell her, I open my mouth to explain until I'm interrupted by Ms. Thornhill addressing the class.

"Wednesday." Both of our heads perk up.

"We are thrilled to have join us on our journey into the world of carnivorous plants." Thornhill walks in front of her desk, next to a plant in a glass case.

"Now, who can tell us the name of this beauty?"

Thornhill addresses the flower in the case with her hand. Bianca is the first to raise her hand.

I'm also not the biggest fan of Bianca, she supposedly used her Siren Song on my friend Xavier to manipulate him.

I don't really know too many details about it, but I know she hurt my friend and that's enough for me.

"Dendrophylax lindenii." Wednesday answers without raising her hand, trying to get ahead of Bianca.

Bianca slowly lowers her hand, with a little bit of attitude.

"Otherwise known as the Ghost Orchid."

"First discovered on the Isle of Wight in 1854."

Thornhill looks surprised at Wednesday's knowledge. "Very good, Wednesday!"

Thornhill turns her gaze to Bianca. "You may have competition for first chair, Bianca."

I find myself smirking at the annoyance building up on Bianca's face. Shifting my weight onto my elbows on the table to get a better view.

"Wednesday, perhaps you can identify the Ghost Orchid's greatest qualities."

Bianca shifts her expression from annoyance to confidence. Moving her gaze to Wednesday with the same confidence.

"Resilience and adaptability." Wednesday remains unmoved, her posture as perfect as ever.

"It's able to thrive in even the most hostile environments."

"But it's mere presence can change the ecosystem, causing the established plants to reject it." Bianca butts in, trying to one up Wednesday.

"Usually because the native species is allowed to thrive unchecked. Nothing a weedwacker couldn't fix."

"You can most certainly try."

I can feel the tension between the two, meeting Xavier's eyes for a moment.

"Are we still talking about flowers?" Xavier adds, causing the class to release a light laugh. Alleviating a bit of the tension.

"Thank you ladies, for those, illuminating insights." Ms. Thornhill brings the attention back to her.

"Clearly the plants aren't the only carnivores in class today."

I look between Wednesday and Bianca, sensing the rivalry building between the two.

-

You're with Enid helping with the boat for the Poe Cup. It's a beautiful fall day, the air slightly chilly, the leaves in the trees different shades of red, yellow, and orange.

Wednesday starts approaching from the school, heading to your teams boat. Specifically to Enid.

"I have to get back to the woods, but Weems has been watching me like a vulture circling a carcass."

"And you want me to cover so you can go back to the crime scene that didn't happen?" Enid asks teasingly.

"Crime scene?" You break your focus from painting the boat. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh you don't know? Wednesday has been saying how Rowan was killed by a monster while he now walks around the school. Y'know, very much alive."

Wednesday scowls Enid with her eyes.

"What if she is telling the truth?" Something glistens in Wednesday's eyes when she looks at you.

"We go to a school with vampires and werewolves, but this isn't possible? Plus, I don't think Wednesday is the type of person to lie for attention."

Enid shrugs while she continues painting. "Why don't you ask Y/n to be the distraction?"

Wednesday looks back to Enid. "That's because she will be coming with me to investigate."

I turn my head to Wednesday with a slightly confused expression. Am I? I wasn't aware of this.

Wednesday sees my confusion, I can see her asking through her eyes. I take a deep breath.

I can't say no to her.

Enid looks back to Wednesday, taking her eyes off the boat. "Okay then, why don't you ask Thing? Oh wait you can't because he's mad at you."

"Why's he mad? he's the one who screwed up."

Enid goes back to focusing on painting while shrugging. "All I know is that we spent an hour giving each other manis, and he really opened up. He feels he doesn't respect you as a person."

"Technically he's only a hand."

"Wednesday, he's your family! And he would do anything for you. Go apologize and I'll reconsider helping you."

Wednesday looks around for a moment before meeting your eyes, gazing into them for a moment before she walks away.

Part 4.

Past Lives Masterlist

a/n: happy holidays :))

[loveharlow]

What thoughts do you think are going through Rafes head when he found out JJ and tr we’re dating? Like after he got in a fight with him what do you think he did after?

thoughts?? I'll do you one better. here's what happened after the pogues drove off after rafe and jj's fight

*this can technically be read as standalone blurb but as a shameless self-plug, this is a bonus scene for my series SEVEN

swearing, mentions of r*pe/non-con

"Yo...man, you good?" Barry asked, bending down to help up a battered Rafe only to have his hand swatted away.

"...Don't need your goddamn help." Rafe muttered through a mouthful of blood, the boy pushing himself up off the grass. There was a dribble of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth to his chin, the crimson color consuming the entirety of his mouth as a nasty bruise formed on the side of his face. "Where's your gun?" Rafe breathed, wild blue eyes on the drug dealer next to him, palm out and facing upwards.

"Man, ain't no need for all that." Barry waved off the boy, turning away. "We need to lay low after that shit-"

"I didn't ask about what we need to do, Barry, I asked for your fucking gun-"

"Don't you see them lights through the trees?" Barry asked, getting increasingly annoyed, motioning to the flashing blur of red and blue through the gaps in the forest surrounding the trailer park as he whipped to face Rafe once more. "We needa get the fuck back inside. I can't have twelve on my ass right now, especially after the shit you just pulled-"

"Then go back inside!" Rafe roared, blood splattering in Barry's vicinity. "If you're so worried about the fuckin' cops, then go back in your goddamn trailer." Rafe hissed. "You...you think I'm gonna let some pogue think he has a one up on me? Not a chance in hell. Especially not JJ motherfucking Maybank." Rafe ranted, pacing the length of the overgrown yard. "That fuckin' piece of shit thinks he can put his fucking hands on me? On me?!" The erratic boy roared, fury blooming in his blue eyes as his fists balled at his sides, his breathing rapidly increasing as he moved to tug on his strands on hair.

"The fuck did you think would happen, Rafe?" Barry sneered, eyeing the Cameron boy with a hint of terror. "You kidnapped the girl. You drugged her. And you were about to do a lot more if I hadn't-" He reminded, counting each offense on his fingers.

"You did, too." Rafe retorted, shooting Barry a look. "Don't try and put all this shit on me." He warned, in a low and uncaring tone.

Barry seemed to get lost in his train of thought in that moment, eyes roaming Rafe's restless figure. "...That shit that was going around the island a couple months back, about you doin' somethin' to her..." The drug dealer started, his face contorting into something distantly relative of disgust. "That shit was true, wasn't it?"

Rafe simply side-eyed Barry before rolling his eyes, grinding his jaw as his thoughts ran rampant, ignoring his associate's line of questioning. But Rafe's lack of response seemed to be the only answer Barry needed.

"Nah..." The man shook his head, backing away from the Kook. "That's fucked up, man. No wonder Maybank jumped on you like that. You raped his girl-"

"Alright, just shut up!" Rafe snapped. "Okay? Shut up." He reiterated, his voice less desperate this time, more assertive. "Don't you ever say that shit again. She's not 'his girl'." Rafe mocked, face twisting into one of pure disgust and annoyance.

All Barry could do was laugh unbelievably. "She is, Country Club." He countered. "She always has been. And everyone but your dumbass seems to know that-"

"I had her way before he ever did!" Rafe shouted, getting closer to Barry. "Alright?! She's not his, she's mine." He asserted boldly, gaze firm. His jaw was clenched, fists balled as he turned to watch the flashing lights grow closer to the trailer park, making twists and turns through the trees. "And if I ever see Maybank again, I'll kill him." He nodded, breathing heavily and walking swiftly towards the trailer. "...I'll kill 'em all."

©loveharlow.

[crazyunsexycool]

A Love as Sweet as Honey

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.1K

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays my lovely people. Here is a small Christmas one shot for our new favorite family. I know it's a little bit late but these last few days have been hectic. I hope you like it.

Warning: Fluff, a little bit of angst, implied smut, Christmas!!!

Series Masterlist

You hadn’t celebrated Christmas in years but this time it was different. There was a huge reason to put up decorations, watch Christmas movies, listen to Christmas songs and marvel at all the twinkling Christmas lights. And that reason was currently crawling her way to the Christmas tree. Since Steve brought home a tree and used as many lights as he could, Bee couldn’t stay away. She moves surprisingly fast for her age. You can hear her small coos as she reaches for a branch with her tiny hand. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve’s voice cuts over the Christmas music that’s playing softly. “Does my girl want to look at the lights again?” 

You walk into the living room just as Steve picks Bee up. She still looks so tiny in his arms. Her giggles make you smile as you watch father and daughter admire the bright lights and colorful decorations. 

“I have her hat.” You finally interrupt them, holding up the knitted accessory. “We should get going.” 

“Alright, Honeybee let’s get you all bundled up.” 

You put the beanie on Bee’s head and make sure she still had her socks on. Then you grab your coat and put it on quickly before taking Bee so that Steve could put his coat on. 

“I think we’re all set. Let’s go.” Steve ushers you and Bee to the car. 

The three of you were heading to a Christmas light show. You hoped Bee would love it just as much as she seemed to love the lights you and Steve had around the house.

****

“Alright, my sweet Bee,” you say as you unbuckle Bee from her car seat. “Let’s get you into your stroller.” 

Bee giggles as you lift her up. Her little feet kicking in excitement as she looks around the unfamiliar place. As you strap her into her stroller Steve hands you her blanket and you make sure Bee is tucked in comfortably. 

“Are you ready for your first light show, baby?” You ask with a smile, receiving a happy little grunt in response. 

“I’ve got her bag,” Steve says as he shoulders the backpack full of things you might need for Bee. “I think we’re ready to go.” 

You just nod and start pushing the stroller. Steve stays close at all times. He receives a few stares as you walk by other people but fortunately you’re left alone. It takes about five minutes to get to the entrance of the actual attraction. You both hear the tiniest gasp come from the stroller the moment you start to see all the twinkling lights. 

“Oohhh.” Bee coos as she points at all the lights. 

You and Steve can’t stop smiling at Bee’s reaction. She was obsessed with the lights. You knew because of the way she scrunched her nose up like Steve did when he was really happy about something. 

Halfway through the walkthrough Bee gets fussy to the point that Steve picks her up. He gets her closer to the displays and you have a cheerful baby again. You and Steve stop to get some hot chocolate and enjoy some carolers. 

“This is nice.” Steve says between sips of his drink. 

“Yeah, I’ve never done this before.”   

He leans in and kisses your temple. “Well then it’s a family first.” 

“A new tradition, maybe?” 

Steve looks down at Bee who is entranced by the twinkling decorations. “Definitely a new tradition.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve walks into your shared home to the fire alarm going off. He rushes to the kitchen to see you with tears in your eyes and smoking coming out of the oven.

“What’s going on?” Steve asks as he rushes over to your side. 

You blink back tears as you look up at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin them.” 

“Ruin what, Honey?” 

“The cookies. I’ve tried to make like six batches and they’ve come out horrible.” 

“What are you making cookies for?” 

“I wanted us to sit together and decorate cookies with Bee. But I can’t get a stupid recipe right.” You buried your face in Steve’s chest and wrapped your arms around his midsection. 

“It’s ok Honey. We don’t have to decorate cookies.” 

You pull back to look at Steve, completely offended by his statement. “Of course we do. It’s a Christmas tradition.” 

“Honey, Bee isn’t going to remember this Christmas.” 

“But we will. And she deserves to have the best Christmas ever with all of the fun things we can come up with. But I can’t even give her that. She deserves to have family traditions.”

Holidays in general were a sensitive subject for you. Your family always excluded you from all of the fun things they would do. But now you were determined to give your sweet baby girl everything you never had. Unfortunately you aren’t a great cook or baker. 

“You know what, we’ll figure it out.” Steve grabs the recipe you’d printed out for sugar cookies and looks it over. “How about we take a break and then try again later?”

“Okay.” 

“Steebie?” Charlotte’s voice rings in the entryway.

“In the kitchen sweetheart.” 

Fast little footsteps echo in the hallway before Lottie and Henry appear in the kitchen. 

“Hi guys. What’s going on?” 

“We’re having a cookie decorating party and we wanted to invite you.” Henry holds up an actual invitation. It was hand drawn, Lottie being the artist behind it. “The party was Lottie’s idea.” 

You look over at Lottie who has the most sympathetic and sweetest smile on her face as she walks up to you. 

“Don’t cwy fo cookies, Duckie.” She says when you squat down to her level. “We habe so many.” 

“Thank you Lottie.” 

She smiles again as she hugs you. 

“You two are the best.” Steve ruffles Henry’s hair. “We’ll be over in a minute ok?” 

“Ok.” Henry nods before holding his hand out. “Let’s go baby.”

“See you latuh.” 

You stand up and lean into Steve’s awaiting arms. 

“There we go. We have cookies for our girl.” Steve says. “Are you ok with that?”

You just nod against his chest. The baby monitor crackles as Bee begins to cry. 

“Why don’t you go get her and I’ll clean up the kitchen?” 

You look around at the mess and start to feel bad about the whole thing. 

“Don’t worry about it. Go get Bee.” Steve gently pushes you out of the kitchen.

“Ok.”

****

The Barnes home smelled like vanilla, cinnamon and all things sweet. There’s laughter coming from the kitchen so you and Steve follow the sound. You find all five of the Barnes family together. There are cookies cooling on one counter top, flour and dough on another. Henry was currently working with the standmixer to make icing, his hair pulled back and an apron stained with powdered sugar.

“Bee-bee, hi.” Peanut waves at Steve. 

“Hi, Peanut.”

“We’re glad you made it.” 

“Thank you for the invitation.” You tell Sugar. 

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome.” 

“Now, give me my niece.” Bucky holds his hands out. Bee initially hides her face against Steve’s shoulder. “Oh come on, Bee. It’s your favorite uncle. C’mon sweet girl.” Bucky tickles her side making her giggle and she turns to look at him. “There you are, c’mon.” 

Bee holds her arms out and goes with Bucky. As soon as Steve has handed her over Peanut does grabby hands in order to be picked up. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” You ask as you look around. 

“I was just going to start setting up the decorating stations on the table. Can you grab the sprinkles and those plates?” 

“Of course.” 

You and Sugar move around the table to set everything up. Lottie follows you both and hands you the little things you need like spoons, napkins, and piping bags. Just as you finish Sam, Wanda, Vision, Nat and Sugar’s siblings walk in. All of them are ready to decorate cookies together. The whole group sits around the table trading stories. You have Bee on your lap and you’re trying to get some icing on the cookie but Bee keeps trying to grab the spatula you were using. 

“Sweet Bee let me spread this on the cookie.” 

Bee replies by letting out a high pitched scream and smacking her hand on the table a few times. Everyone’s eyes are on her and suddenly she’s shrinking into you. 

“That’s right, you tell her.” Nat says from across the table with a smile. 

Bee gives her a shy smile before getting distracted by the cookie in front of her. For the next few hours everyone decorates cookies and talks. It’s nice to have this group of people in your life. As you watch Steve fail at decorating a cookie because Bee keeps licking the icing off you can’t help but smile. While Steve doesn’t have any other living relatives and you are not in contact with your family, your daughter isn’t missing out on the love of aunts, uncles and cousins. 

“What do you think?” Steve leans in. “A new tradition?” 

“Yes, a new tradition.” 

He sends you that grin you love so much before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Christmas was getting closer. Sam had agreed to watch Bee while you and Steve went shopping for gifts. Now you were sitting in the living room at night getting ready to wrap everything. You had set up all the wrapping paper, tape, scissors and gift bags out to keep things running smoothly. 

“Alright, Bee’s down for the night. Let’s get started.” Steve claps his hands. 

“I think we went a little overboard with gifts for her.” 

“I think we did just fine. Bee deserves everything.”

You raise a brow at him. “While I agree that she deserves absolutely everything on this earth, we don’t want her to be spoiled and become a brat.”

“She won’t. We won’t let her.” 

“If you say so.” You mutter. 

“I do. Now,” Steve pulls you closer and presses his lips against yours. “Should we wrap presents or can I unwrap you?” His hands slip under your shirt and run up and down your sides. 

“Steve…”

“Yes, Honey?” 

You giggle as he kisses down your neck. 

“We have to-“ you cut yourself off with a whimper when Steve pulls you in and you can feel his arousal.

“Unwrapping it is.” Steve says with a smirk  as he walks you towards the couch.

You laugh as you hit the couch. Steve settles himself on top of you. His eyes darken with want. You run your hands through his hair until they stop at his neck and you pull him down for a kiss.

****

You lay on the couch and pressed against Steve, naked. Only a throw blanket covering you up. The stack of presents sit all around but you can’t be bothered to get up.

“You’re going to have to wrap all of these by yourself.” You murmur, fighting to stay awake. 

“Why? Are you too tired to wrap a few gifts?” Steve was way too smug for your liking but you were too tired. 

“Shut up.” 

Steve chuckles as he runs his fingertips up and down your spine. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of all of this.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Christmas Eve and you were so excited. Steve had to work so you had time to set up a small surprise for him. The dining room table was set up for a romantic dinner. 

“Honey?” Steve calls out from the front door. 

“In the dining room.” You reply as you finish placing a wine glass down. 

“Hey,” Steve stops in his tracks as he looks at the set up. 

There are candles on the table, Steve’s favorite dinner is waiting for him. But the best part is his girls. You and Bee are in similar burgundy colored dresses. Bee’s nose scrunches up as she smiles and holds her arms out for him. Your smile is just as captivating and Steve can’t believe he gets to live his dream.

“What’s all this?” He asks as he gets closer to you. 

“Well, you always do so much for us that we wanted to surprise you. It was all Bee’s idea.” 

“Is that right, sweet girl?” Steve says as he takes Bee from you and kisses her cheek. Bee replies in kind by nuzzling her nose into his cheek. 

You smile up at them. Something about seeing Steve being such a good father makes your heart stutter. In your eyes there is no one more suited for the job. 

“Thank you, Honey.” Steve leans down and gives you a sweet kiss. 

“No, thank you for being so wonderful.” 

You gently push Steve to take a seat and then you settle Bee in her high chair. The three of you spend a quiet dinner together knowing that Christmas Day will be spent with your found family. 

**** 

After dinner the three of you sit in the living room in matching pajamas and watch a Christmas movie or two. Halfway through the second movie Bee falls asleep in Steve’s arms. You expected that he’d go and settle her down for the night but instead Steve just shifts Bee around a little and goes back to watching the movie.

“Do you want me to take her up?” You whisper.

“No, I want to hold her a little longer. I want to hold you too, C’mere.” He raises his free arm up and you snuggle into his side. Steve presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

You watch the rest of the movie snuggled up together. This was easily the best Christmas you ever had. You were sure there was nothing that could ever top this moment. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you were awake way too early. Excitement for the day ahead had you up and getting ready. While Bee was still sleeping you and Steve decided to exchange gifts. It surprised you how much he paid attention to you with all the gifts he got. You were even more surprised that he had gotten you as much as he had since you didn’t know where he had hidden it. But he was equally surprised when you gave him just about the same amount of gifts. 

What the two of you were really waiting for was Bee to wake up. This was her first Christmas and you wanted to see her open gifts. Just as you and Steve finished your coffee Bee could be heard cooing on the baby monitor. Both of you rushed into her nursery to meet a smiling and still sleepy baby. You changed her diaper and changed her into a onesie that said baby’s first Christmas. 

Downstairs Steve had set up a video camera in order to capture the moment of Bee opening her gifts. The three of you sat down by the tree and Steve got the first gift for Bee. You two were like kids in a candy store as you watched Bee’s little fingers scratch at the paper. She got easily distracted by the twinkling lights of the tree so you had to bring her attention back. 

Every gift had grabbed her attention. There was everything from clothes to toys to books. More than a kid could ever need and Steve had to admit that you were right. Maybe it was a little bit too much. Bee didn’t seem to mind all the gifts though, especially the toys. She giggled and cooed happily as you and Steve sat and played with her. 

****

The team was gathering in the compound for a Christmas party. The usual attendees were already there including Sam and Clint’s family. The kids were running around playing with their new toys while the adults sat around talking. 

“Why don’t you two lovely ladies get settled and I’ll be back with the rest of the gifts.” 

“Are you sure? I can get someone to watch Bee.” You turn to look at Steve. 

“Absolutely not. I’ll take care of getting the gifts up here.” 

“Ok.” You smile at Steve and head towards Sugar who is patting the empty seat next to her. 

“Oh my goodness, look at you.” She gushes over Bee’s cute red corduroy overall dress. She had a white long sleeve onesie underneath, matching white knee high socks and a red bow headband. 

Peanut waddles their way over to you. They reach for Bee and both of them start to babble. You smile before turning to Sugar, the two of you talk about how your morning went. 

As the day went on more gifts were exchanged. Fortunately you and Sugar had put your foot down at a two gift maximum for the kids knowing the aunts and uncles, especially Tony, would go overboard. 

Bee was especially enamored with a bumblebee stuffie that Lottie had picked out for her future best friend. 

“See,” Lottie motioned to Bee who was hugging the stuffie. “She lobes it. I see it my fut-uh dweams.” She beams. 

“Thank you sweetheart. We’ll make sure to take good care of it.” Steve replies with a smile.  

“Kay. Can we dance Steebie?” 

Steve chuckles but nods as he takes Lottie’s hand. Rocking around the Christmas tree plays as Lottie and Steve dance around. Soon enough the other kids join and even some parents join them. 

The rest of the afternoon is spent in a calm and entertaining environment. Some of the guys are trying to put together a few of the toys the kids got. Tony obviously decides to be the so-called project manager and they argue amongst themselves instead of actually assembling the toys. You, Sugar, Sarah and Laura watch them work. In the end the toys were done but it took way longer than necessary. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the day you had a very sleepy baby in your arms. Bee clung to you even as you tried to change her into pajamas. Instead of putting her down in her crib you brought her into your bed and settled her right in the middle. She held the bumblebee stuffie in one hand and gripped your shirt with the other. Her big blue eyes blinked owlishly at you. 

“Did you have the best day ever?” You murmur as you caress her cheek. 

She responds with a sleepy smile. Bee turns her head as the bed dips next to her and her attention shifts to Steve. While still in your arms she turns so that she can get a better look at him. 

“Hi my sweet girl. Are you ready for bed?” 

Bee tries so hard to stay awake but you know she’s exhausted after all the fun and excitement of the day. You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips as Steve sings a final Christmas song as the lullaby for the night. His voice soft and soothing pushes Bee into dreamland. 

“You and Bee are the best thing to ever happen to me.” Steve whispers. 

You smile up at him. “You and Bee are the best thing to ever happen to me too.” 

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[undercoveravenger]

Criminal Intent

Criminal!Soap x Detective!Male!Reader

A/N: Okay, first time writing for COD and it’s an AU with a probably very out of character Soap. This is potentially a continuing series with an option for poly!141 if you guys’re into it. Feel free to send requests for the 141 or for this au in the meantime

-----

It’s the silence that bothers him, really. He’s been in plenty of interrogation rooms with plenty of detectives sitting across him. He’s had officers beat him and bribe him and try to weasel information out of him a dozen different ways, but he’s never had someone quite like you.

The first thing that crosses his mind when you close the heavy door behind you is that you’re fine as hell. All strong jaw and pretty eyes and a white button up shirt stretched tight across a thick chest and broad shoulders and he just knows you could fold him in half if you wanted to. The next thing he notices is that you’re quiet. You settle into the seat across from him with spread legs and an open case file without so much as glancing at him and if he didn’t know you were trying to put his whole goddamn organization behind bars-

“Can we get this over with?” he finally says, if only to get you to look away from the fucking paperwork for a moment. 

Your eyes are almost bored when they meet his and Johnny’s just decided they’re his new favorite color when you speak and his brain about short circuits at the sound of your voice. “Oh,” you say, though you don’t sound surprised. He definitely does not think about the other ways he could get you to say that. Definitely not. “Ready to squeal?”

He swallows thickly, knows you want him to give up Price and Gaz and Ghost. “I’m no rat,” he says, lips curling up into that charming smile he’d put to use hundreds of times over as he leans in, “But I bet there’s plenty a’ other things you could do that’d get me squealin’.”

“Pass.” You don’t seem affected in the slightest as your eyes drop back to the folder in your hands, deft fingers flipping pages and his mouth waters at the thought of those fingers fisting into his hair. “I told them you wouldn’t be worth my time,” you said, tipping your head toward the one-way mirror that lined one edge of the interrogation room. “Too damn stubborn to get yourself a good deal in exchange for a little information.” 

He huffs, a little petulant from your disinterest, “Stubborn’s one word for it. Loyal’s another.” He puffs his chest out a bit. He knows he’s good looking, been told so all his life, so you’re either not into blokes, or you’re lying. “‘S a good trait for your future husband to have, ain’t it?” There it is, he thinks with a grin as your eyes shoot up to meet his, thrown off for the first time since you set foot in the room.

“Wha-” you cut yourself off, schooling your surprise back into that boring deadpan expression and Johnny almost pouts as you do. “That’s rather inappropriate.”

Johnny shrugs, leans forward to rest his forearms against the table, handcuffs clinking as he moves. His voice lowers to nearly a pur, “Could do some other things that’re inappropriate if you want? Wouldnae even have to take these off,” he jingles the cuffs pointedly. He tips his head toward the mirror, “Doubt you’d want your supervisors here for that though.”

Your pupils are slightly dilated when you look at him and he can see how tempted you’d be by him if he’d met you anywhere else. God, the things he’d do to you if you’d just wandered into the bar above the safehouse downtown - He shakes it off, knows he can’t let himself get distracted. Knows he just has to stall for time ‘til Price has his bail paid and he can disappear again. But the idea of getting closer to you? Of having you to himself, even for a little while? Oh, that’s a chance he can’t pass up, even if Ghost and Price’ll be pissed at him later.

“I’d think about a deal,” he finds himself saying, the words foreign on his tongue and he’s almost as shocked to be saying them as you look to be hearing them. “My time for yours. I won’t give you my boys, but I’ve got plenty more information that’d help you lot out that I could pass along if you agree to meet me when I’m out.” He continues, hand jerking forward to catch your chin and keep you from looking to the officers behind the mirror for guidance, to keep you looking at him and him only. “Just you. No backup, no wires, nothing. Just the two of us.”

He can feel your tension against his fingertips, can feel the way you ache to get approval from your higher ups before responding, a foxhound not used to being pursued by the fox without so much as a huntsman to guide you, can see the way your fingers tighten against the folder in your grip, knuckles nearly going white with the pressure. Can see the moment when your resolve cracks and you nod. It’s small and barely there, but you agreed all the same whether or not your superiors would’ve approved it.

You’re up out of your seat and crossing to the door as soon as he releases you and he knows what mess’ll be waiting for you but all he can think about is what it’ll take to draw you to him, to bring you close to his side and keep you there and how helpful it’ll be to have a soon-to-be former detective working for Price and his syndicate and how he’s going to have so much fun breaking you.

[det-agency]

payneland yule exchange 2024

@clementiiny

tw: bullying/abuse/ptsd/underage drinking

prompts: pre-canon, hurt/comfort, domestic vibes charles-centric fic

Charles eyes the space Edwin cleared out for him on their homemade bookshelf.

-------- ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ --------

It was funny at first, two ghosts were haunting an old abandoned building. Nestled in off streets on some abandoned development project in Southern England. He can remember when they first stumbled in on a mirror hopping exercise, and Edwin taught him how to concentrate so that he could help move the discarded clapboard pallets. The way the pressure built on his hand without the texture of the wood was so alien to him at the time. When the hastily nailed planks finally rose his eyes darted to Edwin automatically.

“Very good Charles,” his smile radiating in his voice and eyes.

“Thanks mate, I think i’m getting-”

The pressure dissipated instantaneously, the rush of sand colored boards falling in a blur and crashing so loud to reverberate in the unfurnished concrete building.

No one spoke or moved for a minute.

-------- ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ --------

Now two months have gone by and he has an empty shelf of the same discarded wood. Right next to Edwin’s growing collection of magical tomes and comics.

Somehow.

The sentiment is nice, but Charles isn’t much of a bibliophile. The last book he cracked open himself was probably Warriner’s English Grammar and Composition- complete course. If he had Edwin to read his coursework to him before his midterms- as well as the signs of faery possession- he might have had a better time retaining information.

He lets his mind fidget with the idea. Sneaking around to study with Edwin would have been loads more enjoyable than swotting up everytime he got wind of a quiz. For all the vapid consternated lecturing about their desire to teach the next generation diligence he’s surprised none of the teachers caught on to his more extreme study habits. He needed to revise twice as long as his mates, whilst still keeping on top of his cricket practice. The stench of smuggled coffee in the shared dorm space, sting of untreated paper cuts on his cricket bat, and echo of quickly flipped paper while on the bench-minutes before practice begins- still haunts him. No one can say his scholarship was not merited. To be candid, a few of his peers tried. They should put his name on a medal.

He winces.

They’d probably think that was lame though. With his friends there was always a give and take. Charles would be too excited or too visually distinctive, and then they would disparage him before intervening. He can almost hear them now, in his head, mocking him for caring enough to wonder what books Charles thinks Edwin would want next to his collection. They’d probably ring his bell if they caught him idling, grinning at it, like a gormless old twit.

Charles starts picking up the books Edwin had pushed to the far side of the room and carrying them back towards their place on the shelf. Each one aged into a different neutral hue.

It’s not like getting lumped aside the head is the worst, he’s just had his fair share of it. The sharp painful corrections reverberated through concert gigs, class, and his old house. With his Dad it was something you could count on. Like the chime of a clock or the clunk of his boots on the floor above him when he got home.

The closest he gets to that is when Edwin scolded him when he misplaced a hand-bound copy of Materials Toward a History of Witchcraft V. II.

His hands were steepled and eyebrows were pinched as he faced Charles.

“It is of our best interest to have our books on occultism organized if we are to keep helping any stray ghost that takes your fancy.”

His tone is sincere with “steps to make sure this does not happen whilst they are in each other’s company.”

It had been the first time Edwin had mentioned a future- their future- together.

So…there are more instances where he messes up with Edwin.

His first offense was gathering discarded vinyl records from the estate to solve the case of the mummified musician. He may have gathered more than necessary. The boxes littered their settled office with the crowded oppressive atmosphere of an obstacle course.

“ I don’t understand the importance of collecting memorabilia from his estate if his condition clearly exemplifies a pharaoh's curse, Charles.”

“Except he’s never been to Egypt, and something is wrong with these records, Edwin.” Charles tests.

“Whatever do you mean?” Edwin asks, hands centering more nervously.

Charles takes the dingy milk crate containing the cursed record to the top of their newly acquired office desk. “He didn’t have any photos of his parents in that house. Closest we got to them was that burnt photo with his passport. So whoever his family is in Egypt he isn’t going back to see them often.” He grabs the third vinyl ceremoniously holding it up and points accordingly.

“This band was based in the UK and was underground in the 70s; they did not have the money to parade around publishing records in Egypt, mate. It also doesn’t have English import tax added to the price on the back so we can figure whoever gave it to him wasn’t a distributor. Finally,” He slides the protective sheet from the record. “The Matrix numbers are utter gibberish.” Charles raises his head to find Edwin studying him instead of the vinyl.

“You know an awful lot about vinyl records, how come your interest has never come up before?” Edwin poaches.

“I’m not interested, mate, this case is just stupid convoluted and I’d really appreciate getting this case closed as soon as possible, yeah?” Charles twists away placing the covering back onto the record and into the jacket delicately.

“Right, of course.” Edwin reassures.

The following offense had occurred after a few days of dodgy eyeing on Edwin’s part. The silent treatment had gotten so intolerable he had resulted in point blank annoying him about the local bands when they walked past the building on their way to pick up new comics and magical tomes from the only occult shop in London to sell to “new ghosts.”

The cold morning air clung to the energy around their forms as they made their way through almost empty city walkways. The greys and blues of the world still clinging to the buildings and street as Charles prattles on about trumpet melodies and inconsistent show times. They had been trotting by a street light holding fast against the elements when Edwin had stopped walking and Charles went ramrod straight.

“Did you use to go to shows frequently?” he asks hesitantly, but his eyes are narrowed and posture is straight, holding a brick sized hand bound french magic book and a recent batman issue with the same reverence, snug against himself.

Charles feels the panic, in his arms and stomach, unfurl their tendrils.

“I-er-well, we all had the go-ahead to leave campus, right, but we could never make it back in time if we went too far, did we? This venue didn’t card, so we always found our way here…eventually.” Charles stammers.

Edwin’s eyes drift to the unassuming dark building with torn weathered posters littering its wall. “You mentioned going to see the Po-Goues in January, but the poster says they were playing January 14th, which is shortly after your holiday. So I may surmise, you came back to St. Hilarion's and then went to a concert in which the interim school faculty would be exceedingly vigilant. You must care about them a great deal.” His eyes roam, and lock back onto Charles, assessing.

“Didn’t think you were actually listening, mate.” Charles teases.

“The Kon 5 is playing next week, so we could attend a show, if you are still interested in such things.”

Edwin steels himself, takes a breath, and then points to one of the newer additions to the wall. Charles follows the line of action from the base of Edwin’s shoulder to the mass-produced poster for the stupid band he used to wait in line to see.

-------- ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ --------

The building is dark. Metal and Brick both painted over with worn black overcoats. The stairs lead to an expanse of hallway with an open bar and doors. He remembers Mark used to remind him not to be an idiot and forget the stuff they came in with. Abandoned high heels, coats, and a metal bat line the walk-way. If you follow it you can pass the bathrooms to the back and you can see the open floor of an expansive former church turned remodeled stage.

The members come up one after the other. Each fiddling with equipment and performing checks on their respective instruments.

Charles’ energy is erratic. His hand had phased through the bars of the catwalk; they were camped atop up to his forearms. Being inside shouldn’t be putting his nerves on edge. He should be able to differentiate being in the building now with Edwin for one of his favorite bands and the “friends” who introduced it to him.

Nevertheless, every place his eyes rest rip memories from the depths of his mind to the cold air around him. He remembers, agreeing to help one of his roommates move to afford one of the coats everyone wore. Being too scared to decorate it. Skipping class so no one would see him go to a Citizen 8 gig alone. Standing in the dorm’s communal bathroom, looking in one of the mirrors to the shades of purple on his body, no recollection who to inculpate. “It was just a lark, we didn’t mean any harm.”

Getting harrassed.

Getting Killed.

”Hard Lines mate, maybe next time.” muttered at his fucking funeral.

“Are you alright?” Edwin asks.

“What-er- yeah” Charles stutters, “Sorry, we’ve-I’ve- just never got here early before.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Edwin hesitates.

“Oh, yeah, brills.”

It’s strange they don’t have any roadies or stage-hands aside from the band members. Charles points to the stage. “That is the lead singer James doing the mike check. and-” his arm halts its motion as they both watch in horror as the drummer touches his kit, glows red, dives behind the curtain, and begins screaming hysterically backstage.

Edwin looks at him quizzically.

“Well, that was the drummer.” Charles stammers, “Er-‘m sure, he’s fine, mate”

The Kon 5 are about twenty or so minutes into their set. The trumpets and drums are sycophantic in their rhythm drilling the crowd. Shouts of encouragement and lyrics are spurred out from the people around them. He looks to his right, Edwin stands in his school uniform tight and pristine despite the dingy atmosphere and sub-par lighting. His soft, thoughtful expression breaks into a smile when his eyes lock with Charles.

Guilt stabs him inextricably.

Edwin’s face falls and he pulls him towards the front of the venue. The Green lighting is strained on the hallway to the bathrooms that Charles has had the misfortune of painting in sick after a few too many jars.

“It’s okay if you don’t like the set we could head to the office and-” Charles starts.

“That is not the drummer.” Edwin states matter-of-fact.

The words left no room for negotiation, and were left between them.

“The Glowing was reminiscent of faery possession.”

“They just got back from France,” Hammering draws from Charles’s heart and hits his stomach.

“The shows-the tour,” he supplies, “They might have picked it up in Paris. ‘Right, Edwin?”

“You have the list of tour destinations memorized?” Edwin asks.

Charles feels stinging behind his eyes first.

“No, no, I just used to have their albums on tape and the upcoming tour destinations printed on back ‘innit.”

“You had their albums on tape? I had no idea you were passionate about music when you were alive,” he states.

“ We should see if the drummer could lend us some tapes after we rid him of his faery infestation.” Edwin mutters nodding to himself.

“Passionate?” Charles squawks.

“I don’t know why you insist on pretending you have no-interests or hobbies Charles, but you are clearly knowledgeable on the subject at hand.I had hoped your admission to your interest in music had been an olive branch between us, since you are so pliable to my rantings on thaumaturgy and protection charms, but you seem more fretful. ” His eyebrows are knit together before he continues, “I do not want our companionship to be so one-sided. I don't know any of your passions nor do I wish to have our place of residence devoid of your impression.”

“Mate, i didn’t mean-”

“I saw you restocked the bookshelf. Do you not see the office as a worthwhile place to store your belongings?” he continues. “Honestly, Charles, if you have no plans to stay we need not discuss it, but at least give me something to remember you by.”

The clawing in his throat builds with the silence between them.

“I-er,” he tries looking towards the cheap drywall, “This is just the first time it was okay to care about things, y’know?

And- yeah. I don’t, er- ” his voice breaks, and he half expects Edwin to shove him.

He doesn’t.

Instead, Edwin’s hand is steady as it grips his lapel.

He follows the pale pressed fingers to his wrist, up his covered arm and settles his gaze near Edwin’s face.

“Maybe on our return from our next trip from the occult book shop we can purchase some recordings.” He whispers.

Charles feels the buzzing energy in his hands again. He weighs everything said before him. The new revelation stripped the version of himself he had presupposed Edwin saw.

“Five minutes backstage,” Charles surrenders, picking up one discarded aluminium bat.

“Or we are summoning that drummer.” - ------ ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ ------

On the way back they pick up a walkman and cassette tapes for the Po-goues, rage parade, and Citizen 8. They leave behind a newly faery-exorcised signed guitar as payment.

When they get back to the office they make it to the middle of the floor before Edwin stands before him with his hand extended.

“What, right now?” Charles asks.

Edwin remains waiting patiently.

The magic canvas bag prognosticates. He swats his hand inside and picks up the cassette player, a tangled mess of earbuds, and the Citizen 8 tape all in one go.

Edwin’s hands dip for a second under the unexpected weight of the cassette player, but adjusts accordingly. Charles presses the eject button and places the tape into Edwin’s other awaiting hand. His fingers hold it in an unconventional manner while Charles stares in awe.

Too soon he presses the cassette into the cartridge and the hand is tucked under the handheld player.

“The earbuds please, Charles.”

Charles' eyes and hands return the mess of wire that he is desperate to untangle. He separates the left and right sides from the main auxiliary cord. Edwin’s hand reaches below and takes the jack and presses it into the aux with succinct precision. He returns, thumbing the earbud from Charles’s left hand to press it to the side of his face. He feels the loss of contact, and then watches Edwin take the earbud from his right hand before putting it to his own ear.

For a moment, he watches the cord between them.

The black wire joining their faces is short, forcing them a little closer than they usually get. His eyes flicker over Edwin’s face, but they find no discomfort. No, Edwin’s face is concentrated as he works. His eyes pinched with the ghost of a smile on his lips. They’re so close he can see the hint of stubble atop his lip and jaw. The coil coupling them taps below his ear twice before-

Edwin pressed the cartridge closed.

The guitar riff expels gruff and triumphant. Five seconds in the drums pick up a heavy beating in the heart of the song. Their lead singer screeches her arrival in a familiar melody.

Edwin’s eyebrows pinch slightly before a soft smile exposes a hint of dimples caresses his face next to the wire joining them. It takes a dull ache in the side of Charles’ face to realize he’s been smiling too. He feels the contact of Edwin’s fingers against his own before realizing he’s unconsciously reached to support the cassette player with him. The weight is lighter than anything he’s held in this new form.

It takes a few minutes before Edwin wanders to pick up his place in a discarded french spellbook. With both ears filled with the rapid pounding of a drum beat he places the remaining two cassettes on his spot on their shelf. With his energy still warmed from Edwin’s presence, he lays a hand on the exposed wood and lets himself press to feel the pressure.

[luvismenu]

Promise You - JJK ,, Christmas Special !!

note: little surprise at the end hehe

series taglist: @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @jkvamp @vrsltz @jaytheatiny

permanent taglist: @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle

it’s christmas.

who doesn’t like christmas?

probably jin, because he seems to have some weird 'beef with santa'.

you watch as jin and jimin argue across the room. jin’s going on about how santa is just for kids, and jimin’s arguing back, saying, “so what? i’m a kid at heart!”

their bickering is loud enough to make everyone laugh a little.

“merry christmas, ___,” a warm voice pulls your focus away from the spectacle. you see namjoon approaching, a soft smile on his face.

you smile immediately. “namjoon! merry christmas.” you give him a quick hug.

“sorry i’m late,” he says, pulling back.

“don’t worry,” you wave it off. “we just got started anyway.”

the room feels warm and lively, filled with laughter and 'jingle bell rock' playing in the background— which was taehyung's choice ofcourse.

he smiles at you, “where is—”

before he can finish, a loud popping sound makes both of you turn your heads.

across the room, you see taehyung holding a christmas popper in his hands, looking half guilty and half amused. colorful bits of paper rain down around him, scattering all over the room like festive confetti.

“oops?” he says with a sheepish grin, earning a round of laughter from everyone including you.

“taehyung, seriously?” hoseok groans, though there’s no real anger in his voice. “you wasted one already? it’s too early for this!”

taehyung just shrugs with a wide grin, completely unapologetic, while hoseok continues scolding him.

namjoon shakes his head, chuckling before heading over to join the group, easily slipping into their conversation and laughter.

you stay where you are, watching the scene unfold. it’s a little chaotic but in the best way possible, the kind of chaos that makes your heart feel full. the room glows with christmas lights strung along the walls, and the fireplace crackles gently, adding warmth to the cozy atmosphere. the tree stands tall in the corner, ornaments sparkling against the soft glow of the string lights wrapped around it. the scent of treats; cookies, peppermint, maybe even hot chocolate lingers in the air, blending perfectly with the laughter and chatter of your friends.

everyone’s dressed in comfy sweaters, all in shades of red and white, giving the room a festive glow. it makes the whole scene feel even more special— like a celebration straight out of a holiday movie.

and well,, it is a special occasion.

it all feels perfect, like a moment you want to live in forever.

your thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of strong arms wrapping around your waist from behind. you don’t even have to look to know who it is. you immediately relax against him as he pulls you closer, his breath warm against your neck.

he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, his voice low and soft as he whispers, “merry christmas, love.”

a small smile tugs at your lips as your hand moves up to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands. you stroke his hair gently, a quiet moment between the two of you amidst the lively chaos around.

“merry christmas, kook,” you murmur, your voice just as soft.

for a second, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room, wrapped in your own little bubble of warmth and love.

“geez, can you two not make love in front of us?” taehyung groans, rolling his eyes dramatically. his comment makes you chuckle, and you feel jungkook smile against your skin.

“yeah, ever since you two got married, you’re extra touchy,” jin chimes in, his mouth half-full of a cookie. the others nod in agreement, you can see the teasing grins on their faces.

it’s true, you and jungkook are married now. after a year of dating, he surprised you by popping the question and you’d said yes without hesitation. the memory of that moment still makes your heart flutter.

marrying him was the best decision you’ve ever made. it’s been nine months since your wedding, and every day feels like a dream. life with him has been nothing short of perfect.

well… almost perfect.

there is something you’ve both been waiting for.

something more..

jungkook’s voice breaks through your thoughts. “if it bothers you that much, maybe you shouldn’t be here waiting to eat the cake and food ___ spent all day preparing for you,” he shoots back, his tone playful but with just enough edge to make jin roll his eyes.

lifting his head from your shoulder, he presses a soft kiss to your skin before letting his hands rest gently on your stomach. the small, tender gesture feels like a secret between the two of you, and your heart swells at the thought of what’s to come.

“everything looks amazing, you guys worked hard,” yoongi chimes in, his tone warm and genuine.

“credits to my beautiful wife, my bb,” jungkook says, grinning proudly, making you chuckle.

“and thanks to my handsome husband for handling most of the decorations,” you reply, shooting him a playful smile.

taehyung groans dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “oh my god, it’s like watching those high school couples. we get it! you both love each other.”

everyone bursts into laughter, and jungkook, ever quick with a comeback, smirks. “damn right we do.”

the room fills with lighthearted teasing and laughter, the kind of warmth that only close friends and family can bring.

. . .

“alright, guys, time for the cake!” jungkook announces, his voice loud enough to grab everyone’s attention. one by one, everyone settles into their seats on the couches, the chatter quieting down. you smile at jungkook, who beams back at you.

“who’s gonna do the honors?” namjoon asks, looking around the room as everyone exchanges glances.

“___ and jungkook?” yoongi suggests, tilting his head towards the two of you. all eyes turn your way.

you share a look with jungkook before smiling. “well, this is for everyone, so... how about we all do it together?”

jungkook nods in agreement, and the idea is met with smiles and enthusiastic nods.

“sounds good,” namjoon says,

you and jungkook hold the knife together, and one by one, everyone places their hands on top of yours. it’s a little crowded and awkward, making everyone laugh as you try to maneuver.

the knife finally slices through the cake, cheers and claps filling the room as pieces are cut and shared. the aroma of the cake mingles with the festive warmth of the room. everyone grabs their plates, helping themselves to a piece.

you and jungkook linger near the table, his hand slipping into yours as you both watch your friends enjoy the treat.

“i think you missed a little something there,” jungkook says suddenly, nodding toward the empty cake platter.

“missed what? we literally cleaned it out,” taehyung asks, confused.

“just take a look, for god’s sake,” jungkook says, pointing to the platter.

everyone leans closer as hoseok reaches for the platter. that’s when they notice something— a small piece of paper poking out from under the edge of the platter.

hoseok picks up the paper carefully, as everyone leans in more.

“what is it?” jimin asks, eyes wide with excitement.

hoseok’s brows furrow at first, but then his face lights up with a grin as he glances between you and jungkook. “uh… you guys should read this.”

“just read it already!” taehyung says, impatient like always.

hoseok clears his throat, holding the note up. “‘merry christmas to the best family we could ever ask for. we wanna share that..” he pauses. “next christmas… there’ll be one more family member here to celebrate with us.’”

a wave of stunned silence falls over the room before jimin gasps loudly, eyes darting between you and jungkook. “wait— are you serious?!”

you bite your lip, unable to hold back your smile, and nod. jungkook grins, his arm making it's wayaround your waist.

“oh my god, you’re pregnant?” jin blurts out.

“yes!” you and jungkook squeal.

the room erupts into cheers and congratulations, everyone rushing over to hug you both.

“we're gonna be uncles,” taehyung wipes a fake tear as he pulls back.

“we’re so happy for you,” yoongi says, his voice soft but sincere, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“seriously, can’t believe the youngest of our group are the ones who got married first and now… kids!” jimin exclaims, shaking his head in disbelief, though his wide grin shows how happy he is.

jungkook chuckles and leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your forehead. his hand rests securely on your waist, and you look up at him, your smile full of love.

“thank you, guys,” you say as you glance around the room at your friends, all of them beaming with happiness for you both. the room feels even cozier now, the love and excitement in the air making the moment even more special.

“we’ll take good care of our little jeon-to-be,” namjoon says with a wide grin.

everyone immediately chimes in, nodding enthusiastically and saying, “yes, we will!”

you and jungkook exchange a glance, a shared look of love and gratitude passing between you. then you both turn to your friends, a playful but heartfelt seriousness in your voices as you ask, “promise us?”

they all smile, the room filled with genuine affection, and they say together in unison,

“promise you.”

a/n: merry xmas my lovelies <3 did u miss the promise you fam? (i fs did)

[softspeirs]

I've Got Dreams (But I Can't Make Myself Believe Them)

Pairing: Lewis Nixon x Original Female Character Summary: Henrietta Murray keeps showing up at the most inopportune times, surely, Lewis Nixon thinks, just to drive him insane. Author's Note: Merry Christmas, @quillandink22! I'm your Secret Santa! I've had so much fun over the last month messaging you and getting to know more about you. I hope you enjoy this and have a wonderful week! Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Henrietta and the plot. Title comes from Homesick by Noah Kahan. I wrote some of this on my phone so please excuse any spelling mistakes!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The thing about Lewis Nixon is that he is not a humble person. He's good at his job, and he knows it. He takes pride in the fact that other people know he's good at his job.

His rank and his position are things he's worked hard at, things he's earned, which he's not ashamed to say isn't the norm for him. While he's sure his last name and his upbringing helped him get through OCS relatively unscathed, there was no one there to pave the way or line anyone's pockets. He did it with nothing but his intelligence and his aptitude behind him, and he was proud of that.

That's why it makes him so infuriated when he's questioned - not even because he doesn't think he could ever be wrong, he's not that egotistical - but because the woman standing in front of him, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed, has never, ever taken him at his word.

Henrietta Murray has a habit of breezing in and out of active combat zones like she's going on a picnic, and that alone drives him absolutely crazy. She also has a habit of listening to what he has to say, and then, in a blase tone, saying "interesting", like it's so cute that he thinks he knows what he's talking about.

One of these days, he's going to say something to her that he'll regret, so he fights every instinct in him, every punch to his ego she dishes out, and shoves the reports into her hands.

"The details are all there. All the reports we have from the other battalions say--'

"Captain Nixon, I'm sure your reports are correct. We don't need to go over the details. Local intelligence is important to consider. That's why I'm here."

Yes. That's why she's here. Tossed around between the OSS and the SOE for months, she has seemed to land here with the Airborne as liaison, and while she has got them out of some scrapes, he's not convinced that they wouldn't have figured it out on their own.

It's unfathomable to him that she's here, in the middle of the godforsaken Ardennes forest, too-big helmet askew on her head like she's not going to get shelled at any second. The anticipation of the next fight is buzzing under his skin, and the thought of her stuck here when it happens - because it's not if, it's when - makes him want to vomit (he also doesn't want to dissect that reaction too closely).

"Why they signed off on you trudging in here, I have no idea." He grumbles, stamping his feet to try to get his circulation moving.

"It's been bad." She says. It's not a question, but her brow furrows.

"That's one word for it."

The heat seems to leave her eyes, and he thinks he sees a glimpse of fear take its place. It’s the first time he’s ever seen anything but confidence in her expression, and it unsettles him.

“I’m sorry.” She says.

He frowns. “What are you sorry for? You’re not the one firing at us.”

Something in her expression seems to signal defeat. She sits on an overturned crate in the CP and he realizes suddenly that she’s just as tired as the rest of them.

"You know--" She starts, "In town, they're just as terrified of us as they are of the Germans."

Nixon makes a face, but she continues before he can say anything.

"The kids... war is the only thing they've ever known. The color of the uniform doesn't matter. All they know is that as long as we're here, the bombs will keep falling. The shelling will continue."

The tone of her voice is different than anything he's heard come out of her before. It takes a little bit of the fight out of him.

"You've been in there too long." He says, blunt.

Her eyes flash. "You think I need to be pulled out?"

He shrugs. "Maybe if you get a break, when you come back you won't argue with me so much," he offers, smirking.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t argue with you.”

Nixon’s mouth drops open, incredulous. “All you do is argue with me—“

A loud, high-pitched whistle overhead interrupts him. Murray’s eyes fly to his, their gazes locking as the color drains from her cheeks.

“Get up.” His tone is harsh.

Yards away, the bombardment begins, the sky turning bright before everything explodes.

“Now!” He shouts, and he’s shoving her towards a foxhole before he can think about what he’s doing. “In. In, get in.” He says. He realizes she probably can’t even hear him, but his heart is pounding so hard at the thought of her being caught out in the open that his words are more for himself than for her.

He jumps in after her, ducking down when a shell explodes what feels like only mere feet away. Her eyes are shut tight as she curls in on herself, as if she can wish all of this away.

He doesn’t say another word as he crouches at her side, sinking as low into the earth as he can, and he drags her with him. She goes willingly, her body trembling with fear against him, and he takes a minute to say a prayer to anyone listening that she’ll make it through this.

Somehow the thought of her fire, her light being snuffed out as quickly and meaninglessly as this— it feels impossible.

“It’ll be alright.” He says in her ear. He has no idea if she can hear him. “Just hang on.”

It feels like hours go by but it’s likely only a few minutes before the shelling stops. The sudden silence around them is chilling, and he has a terrifying feeling that the worst has happened. He has nightmares about this - that he crawls out of his foxhole to find he’s the only one left.

Soon, Dick’s solid form is above them, brows pinched in worry. “Nix?” He calls.

Nixon feels half deaf. “I’m all right.”

“Murray?”

She’s still shaking like a leaf.

“Henrietta.” Lewis says her name firmly. She would never forgive him if he treated her like a wilting flower.

She blinks rapidly, seemingly coming back to herself. “I’m—“ she looks around, down at herself, and back up at Winters. “I’m okay.”

He nods. “Need to check the lines. Don’t go far - that might not be the only barrage. We’ll call for your transport as soon as we can.”

Nixon realizes he still has a tight grip on her shoulders, and he backs away slowly, giving her some space. The sight of her wide, terrified eyes makes something ache inside of him, but he pushes the feeling away.

“You need to get out of here.” He says quietly.

“That’s not up to you. Or me.” She replies. Her voice is steady now and he sees the familiar fire return to her eyes as she gears up for another argument.

“At least do me a favor and stop showing up here unannounced.”

She smiles. “Don’t like knowing there are things you don’t know, is that right, Captain?”

Yes, it sets his teeth on edge that the nature of her work is partially a secret. Yes, it makes him furious when she shows up whenever the whim strikes her (though he knows that’s not a fair assessment- she has intel when she has intel. It doesn’t run on a schedule) and usually the whim strikes her whenever things are about to go to hell.

“I wish you’d just get the reports via courier like everyone else. What do you need a hand delivery for?” He grumbles.

“Maybe I just like your company, Nix. That sunny disposition.”

They sit in silence for awhile longer, both of them trying to calm their racing nerves and hoping the other one doesn't notice.

"It's Christmas Eve." She says suddenly, voice morose. "Everyone in town was hoping for a ceasefire."

Nixon snorts. "It'll come an hour too late." He gestures around them. "Who feels like celebrating Christmas at a time like this?"

He's very aware of her calculating gaze on his face. He doesn't like it. She sees too much - it's why she's good at her job, though he'll never tell her that.

She reaches into her pack that, somehow, wasn't blown to bits as they had flung themselves headfirst into the foxhole. She rummages around for a second and then thrusts a small package at him.

"What's this?"

"What does it look like?" She asks, impatient.

"I don't know, that's why I'm--"

"Jesus Christ, Lewis, will you just take the goddamn present?" She asks, voice rising.

He stares at her, uncomprehending. "What?"

"Do you not celebrate Christmas? I thought for sure--"

"No, I mean-- what-- when did you have time to think about this?" About getting something for me?

"I just saw it and it made me think of you and how much you love when I show up and talk your ear off, so--"

"I didn't get you anything." He says, stupidly, as if they're having a normal Christmas shopping conversation.

She tilts her head, bemused. "I figured. That's not the point. Open it."

Inside the hastily wrapped package is a small, leather-bound notebook. Pocket-sized. It's the perfect size to shove in his jacket and he runs his fingertips over the cover, trying to understand why it feels like the world is shifting under his feet.

"There's a man in town who makes leather goods." She pauses, frowning. "Used to. I-- well, anyway. He gave me a good deal and I felt bad showing up all the time for messages. God knows what would happen to him and his family if they're caught." She's rambling, but it makes him smile, so he lets her.

"Don't look at me like that." She says, eyes narrowing as she catches his expression. "I just figured--" She huffs, cheeks reddening, embarrassed as his smile grows. "You're always forgetting important details, so now you can write them down." She says heatedly.

He laughs. "Thanks, Murray."

She ends up staying there through the night. It's too dangerous to move and if the ceasefire for Christmas does come, she can get out then.

He watches her sleep. He doesn't mean to, but he can't help it. She looks softer, younger in her sleep. He wonders how long she's been here. Wonders how many of her civilian contacts she's gotten close to before she learned not to get attached. Wonders how and why she ended up here, in this job.

He wonders why he's wondering about her so much.

Shoving the thoughts away, he closes his eyes. He can hear the Germans singing. It sounds like Christmas music.

He falls asleep to the sound of her breathing.

[gloomysoup]

home is where you are

@steddiebingo prompts: hurt/comfort (main card) and home (christmas card)

rating: Teen+ | word count: 2400 | tags: omegaverse, alpha eddie, omega steve, mpreg, insecure steve harrington, hurt/comfort, fluff | ao3

Eddie came home from work to absolute chaos. Addie and Violet were sitting on the living room floor, arguing over whether to put the white lights or the colored lights on the Christmas tree, which he had put up the night before. Addie wanted white, but Violet wanted colored. Eddie was almost certain none of their lights from last year were even going to work, so they'd have to buy new ones anyway. James and Lucy were fighting over an orange crayon at the coffee table, two blank pieces of paper and a whole assortment of other colored crayons in front of them. Steve and their youngest, Grace, were nowhere to be seen, but Eddie could hear movement in the kitchen. Eddie quickly slipped his boots off at the door and swooped in to de-escalate all the arguing.

He started by grabbing a second, emergency, box of crayons from the cabinet that held the art supplies. He pulled out an orange one and handed it to Lucy, so she would stop trying to take the other one from her brother. Then he moved to the older two girls, squatting down in front of them and picking up two strings of lights.

“Why don't we put the lights away for now, my loves? They probably don't even work. I’ll take you both to the store this week and we can pick some new ones out together. How does that sound?”

They easily agreed, and Eddie was incredibly grateful that everything was solved quickly tonight. Once all of the pups were settled and occupied, not a single argument left to be had, Eddie moved to the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway to smile at what he found. Steve was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of boiling macaroni noodles with Grace on his hip. He was swaying back and forth, softly humming a lullaby as he did.

Eddie slid up behind him, leaning in with a hand on Steve’s other hip to kiss his cheek. “Evenin', beautiful,” he whispered. Steve smiled and turned his head to get a proper kiss.

“Hey, baby. How was work?” Steve asked after they had separated.

Grace was grinning, trying to scramble from Steve’s hold while saying, “Da!”

Eddie shrugged, taking Grace into his own arms. “Nothin’ new. Missed you, though. How was your day? Pups drive you too crazy?”

Steve hummed in consideration. “Hectic. Lots of arguments today. Oh, Lucy broke one of the nice glasses that Joyce got us. She was trying to be like Addie and Violet and help put the dishes away, but she dropped it and it shattered. Everyone was okay, though, and I’m pretty sure I got all the glass cleaned up.”

Eddie’s hand looped around further to rest on Steve’s swollen belly. “And how was the little one today? Not causing too much trouble, I hope?”

Steve huffed a small laugh. “Not letting me actually get anything done today.” He put down his spoon and leaned back into Eddie’s chest. “Every time I finally got the rest of the pups settled down enough to do something, I either had to pee or sit down for a little bit. By the time I was done, someone else needed something, and the cycle repeated.”

“That's okay,” Eddie murmured, nuzzling his nose against the shell of Steve’s ear and taking a deep breath of his scent. He always loved how much sweeter his mate smelled during pregnancy. It was one of his favorite parts of the experience. “I'll finish the chores for you after dinner. You just worry about relaxing.”

“Eddie, no,” Steve argued, moving to stir the pasta again. “You just worked a ten-hour shift. You shouldn't have to come home and do everything here too. I'll take care of it.”

“You will do no such thing.” Eddie adjusted his hold on Grace, who was snuggled against his chest after not seeing him since the night before. She had been the only one still asleep when Eddie left for work that morning. “You chased our little pack of hooligans around all day while growing a pup. You deserve to put your feet up and relax for the evening. I'll take care of everything else. Don't worry about anything.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder with a frown. “At least let me help. Then we can get everything done faster.”

Eddie smiled and kissed Steve’s cheek again. “Whatever makes you feel better, my love.”

Dinner in the Munson household that night was quite the affair, as it usually was with five kids under the age of eight. Afterwards, Eddie corralled all the pups upstairs for baths and pajamas while Steve cleaned up in the kitchen. By the time everyone was clean, clothed, and settled on the couch for one last movie before bedtime, Eddie was wrecked. He loved his children more than anything in his life (except maybe Steve), but they were exhausting. He had no idea how his mate did it all day long.

Finally, he started the movie and went to track down his superhero of a partner. It didn't take him long at all. Steve was in the laundry room, loading the washer to get one more in for the evening. Eddie came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his husband and kissing his cheek. He pulled Steve back into his chest and swayed gently. He reveled in the way Steve instantly sank into his hold, body going lax and a sigh of contentment leaving his lips.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Eddie whispered.

“Mmmm, tell me again?” Steve replied just as softly.

“I love you so so so much, my love.” Eddie gently tightened his arms around him. “You are an absolute wonder. I don't know how you deal with our little gremlins all day and not just completely lose your mind.”

Steve hummed, a soft smile on his lips. “They're not so bad. Most days. It helps that Addie, Violet, and James go to school five days a week.”

“A saint,” Eddie said, slowly releasing his hold on Steve to dramatically collapse to his knees in front of him. “I worship on my knees in your holy presence.” As Steve laughed, Eddie leaned forward with his hands on Steve’s sides to press a kiss to his belly. Their pup moved beneath his touch. Eddie would never get tired of the feeling. It always amazed him, just what Steve’s body was capable of, especially when it came to creating life.

“Come on, up off the floor,” Steve finally said, grabbing Eddie’s hand and starting to pull him up. The alpha went easily, rarely one to say no to his omega.

With the pups suitably distracted for at least a little bit longer, Steve and Eddie set about the quiet routine of getting evening chores done. They didn't speak much, just moved around each other in a comfortable silence. Eddie did the day’s dishes and wiped down the countertops while Steve folded laundry at the table. The movie in the living room was still going when Grace started getting fussy. It wasn't long before Violet was calling for them to make her stop.

“I'll get her,” Eddie said softly, not wanting to break the calming atmosphere in the kitchen. Steve nodded, still folding laundry, while Eddie headed for the living room.

Grace was pushing at Lucy when Eddie walked in, and Lucy was quickly losing patience with her little sister. Eddie picked Grace up, trying to remedy the situation, but that just caused a full blown tantrum. She kicked and screamed, fighting against Eddie and her own exhaustion. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. No matter how hard he tried to put out a calming scent to soothe her, it was all for naught. She just kept screaming and kicking and writhing. Steve quickly appeared in the doorway, looking a little worried. As soon as Grace saw him, she reached her arms out.

“Give her here,” he said gently, coming over to take the screaming toddler from Eddie’s arms. “I'll sit with her.”

Eddie nodded and passed her off to Steve, watching as Grace instantly began to calm down. He made sure Steve was comfortable on the couch with Grace curled into his body before leaving to finish cleaning up the kitchen and folding laundry. By the time he was done, the movie was over. All five of their pups were fast asleep on the couch. Grace was curled up on Steve’s lap, her head pillowed on his chest. Lucy was situated firmly in Steve’s side, while the older three were piled up and stretched out across the other cushions.

Eddie was extremely careful in his extraction. He took Addie and Violet upstairs to the room they shared first, then James to his room. When he came back, he slowly picked up Lucy and let her burrow into his neck while Steve carefully tried to stand up with Grace. It was a lot harder the further along this pregnancy got, but Steve was nothing if not determined. He never let anything slow him down; not even being nearly eight months pregnant. Again, superhero. Eddie was obsessed with him.

After a very long, very chaotic night, all of the pups were finally tucked away in their beds. Eddie and Steve could actually take a minute to breathe without someone needing something. As they did every night, once the children were tucked in and sound asleep, they curled up on the couch together with some random movie they'd seen a hundred times before. It was more for the noise and familiarity than the movie itself. Steve was tucked against Eddie’s side, his head resting where he could hear Eddie’s heartbeat, just like every night. Eddie held him close, breathing in Steve’s scent and letting himself finally relax for the first time all day. They both remained quiet for a while.

Something deep down in his gut was telling Eddie that something was wrong. Something was bothering Steve, festering in his mind. Before he got the chance to ask, Steve was opening his mouth to speak.

“Do you think we’re making a mistake?” he asked so softly, Eddie almost didn't catch it. If their house hadn't been so quiet, he might not have heard him.

“What do you mean?” Eddie tightened his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

Steve shrugged as best he could from under Eddie’s arm. “I just- Do you think all of this is just a big mistake?” Eddie’s heart shattered at the broken lilt to Steve’s voice, the tremble of his words. “Is having another baby a mistake?”

Eddie frowned, trying so hard to control his scent. “Of course not. What's wrong, baby? Where is this coming from?”

Steve sniffled a little, pressing his cheek a little more firmly into Eddie’s chest. “I don't know. I just- We already have five kids, Eddie. Our- our house isn't that nice. We don't really have a whole lot of extra money. And with Grace’s medical bills… maybe- maybe we should have just stopped after James, or Lucy. Maybe everyone was right, and this is all just a big mistake.”

Eddie shook his head, feeling the fabric of his t-shirt start to dampen. “Absolutely not,” he said. He pulled away, shifting so he could fully look at Steve. “Baby, this is not a mistake. I don't know who’s putting these ideas in your head, but they're wrong. So what if we don't have the nicest house in Hawkins? That's never mattered. Not to me, not to the pups. It's just a house, Stevie. And so what if we don't have all the money in the world? Our family has a roof over their heads, clothes on their bodies, and they never have to worry about going hungry. Our pups are loved. Why should anything else matter?”

Fat tears rolled down Steve’s cheeks. Eddie caught them with his thumbs as he cradled Steve’s face in his hands.

“I love you, Steve Munson,” he continued, unable to stop now that he was on a roll. “I love you, and I love our pups, and I love our life. I don't care about money, or our house. All I care about is our family. Our five little pups, who bring me so much joy every single day. Sweet little Sophia, who is going to be so loved, just like her siblings. You, the love of my absolute life, who has given me so much to be grateful for.”

Tears were welling up in Eddie’s eyes against his permission. He just loved Steve so much, and he hated seeing him so upset.

“Eddie,” Steve whispered, voice shaking with his emotions.

“Stevie, honey, I cannot even begin to tell you just how amazing I think you are. How strong, capable, loving, and wonderful. The greatest gift of my life is getting to be a dad, and you have given that to me six times now. I am so deeply in love with you, and our big family. I would never trade any of our pups for anything in the entire world. I don't need a fancy house or money, because you and our babies are my home. I don't care what anyone else has to say about it. I am obsessed with you and our six little pups, this house with its scattered Christmas decorations that we haven't had the time to put up yet, and every single other thing about this little life we’ve built for ourselves. Fuck everyone else. This is the only thing that matters.”

Eddie held Steve to his chest as he cried, rubbing his back and whispering all of his love into Steve’s ear in the hope that it would sink beneath his skin and stay there forever.

Later, Grace will wake up and need Eddie to put her back to sleep. Later, Lucy will crawl into bed with them and cuddle up to Steve. Later, Eddie will help Steve make breakfast before going to work. Later, they’ll put up decorations and stick the Christmas presents under the tree. Later, they’ll have a newborn in the house, someone else for Eddie to love with everything he has.

Later, Eddie will still be deeply in love with the home that he and Steve have built together, regardless of what anyone else has to say about it.

[norrisleclercf1]

Day 18 of 25 Days of Christmas: Volunteering and gifting to an orphanage

Pairing: Mark Webber x Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 948

The sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden hue across the sky, when you found yourself in the passenger seat of Mark’s car, the light shimmering off the windshield. The air was cool but carried the promise of a beautiful day filled with anticipation and warmth as you headed toward the orphanage. The bags loaded in the trunk were filled with carefully chosen gifts, each one selected to bring joy to the children who rarely had reasons to celebrate.

Mark glanced over at you, a warm smile spread across his face, a blend of excitement and sincerity sparking in his deep-set eyes. “You ready for this?” he asked, his voice steady but soft as if he understood the emotional journey about to unfold. You nodded, your heart beating a little faster, a mix of eagerness and nervousness enveloping you. It was a simple act of kindness, yet it felt monumental—a chance to make a difference, no matter how small.

As the car rolled along the winding roads lined with trees that danced gently in the morning breeze, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. You thought about the children—their innocent laughter, the sheer joy that would light up their faces when they opened the gifts, and the warmth of their smiles. It filled you with a sense of purpose, a realization that moments like these truly mattered; they were the moments that made life beautiful.

When you finally arrived at the orphanage, the building stood modestly against the backdrop of vibrant green lawns and blooming flowers, a simple haven for those who had lost so much. As you and Mark stepped out of the car, the sounds of children playing and giggling floated in the air, mingling beautifully with the scents of earth and spring. You took a deep breath, the smell invigorating as it filled your lungs with hope.

Mark reached into the trunk and handed you one of the large, colorful bags, his touch firm yet gentle. “Let’s spread some joy,” he encouraged, and you smiled back, feeling the weight of the bag in your hands—a tangible reminder of the happiness you hoped to share. Together, you walked toward the entrance, the anticipation building with every step.

Inside, the atmosphere was vibrant. The walls were adorned with drawings and crafts created by the children, each piece a testimony to their creativity and spirit. You observed the workers moving about with grace, their faces reflecting the love and care they poured into these children’s lives. When you spotted the kids—a group playing together in the common area—your heart swelled. Their laughter chimed like music, resonating deep within you, igniting a warmth that permeated your entire being.

Mark gently cleared his throat, drawing the children’s attention as he entered the room. “Hello, everyone!” he called out, his voice alive with enthusiasm. “We have some surprises for you today!” The children’s eyes widened, glistening with curiosity and excitement. You could feel their energy shift, the air thick with the thrill of possibility.

One brave little girl ventured forward with bouncing pigtails and bright eyes sparkling. “What is it? What do you have?” she chirped, cheeks flushed with eagerness. You couldn’t help but smile at her unrestrained joy, a reminder of the innocence of childhood.

Mark knelt down to her level, his expression genuine warmth. “We brought you some gifts—things to play with and to bring out your creativity!” He gestured toward you, encouraging you to join in. The children surrounded you, their inquisitive faces eager and bright, and you felt an electric connection with them, energized by their innocence.

Carefully, you opened the bags, revealing brightly wrapped boxes filled with toys, art supplies, and books—each inviting adventure and imagination. The children erupted in squeals and gasps, their joy radiating like sunlight illuminating the room. You placed the gifts in front of eager hands and reached out to grab them. It was heartwarming to witness their delight, the pure joy reflected in their wide-eyed expressions as they unraveled the colorful paper, discovering treasures within.

“Look at this!” exclaimed a boy, holding up a shiny new car, his face alight with excitement. Another girl tugged at your sleeve, her own hands cradling a new sketchbook. “Can we draw together?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper, as if afraid to break the moment.

“Of course,” you replied, your heart swelling with affection for these children. Spontaneously, you found yourself sinking to the floor, surrounded by the kids, sharing giggles and stories as they excitedly flipped through their books and talked about their favorite colors. It wasn’t just about the gifts; it was about connection—an unspoken bond that transcended the circumstances of their lives.

As the hours melted away, laughter filled the air, the initial nervous energy transforming into a beautiful symphony of camaraderie, hope, and love. You and Mark moved from one group to another, sharing smiles and engaging in playful banter, creating memories woven with joy.

As you looked around at those smiling faces, every worry and concern seemed to fade away, replaced by the profound realization of the moment. In this simple act of kindness, you discovered something more significant—human connection, giving power, and the reminder that joy can be a shared experience, no matter the circumstances.

When it was finally time to leave, a bittersweet feeling washed over you. The children waved goodbye, their faces glowing with the day's magic. Mark caught your eye, a knowing smile on his lips. “We made a difference today,” he said softly. And as you walked back to the car, you knew this was just the beginning—one small step toward a world filled with endless possibilities and boundless love.

[ashlelia]

hi @andyyolk! I'm your secret santa for the #souyosecretsanta2024 ! I hope you are having a wonderful holiday season and that this gift adds to it!

🎄 title: fill this night 🎄 author: ashlelia 🎄 rating: T 🎄 summary: Yu and Yosuke decorate a Christmas tree for Nanako. (~1900 words) 🎄 AO3 link

12.23.20XX

Yosuke's boots crunch through freshly fallen snow as he reaches the entrance of the Dojima residence. Finally. His hands are full of Junes brand shopping bags, so he carefully knocks at the door with the tip of his boot and bounces on his toes as he waits.

He should've worn gloves.

And maybe that scarf Kanji made.

Yeah, he thinks, both of those would be good right now.

It's too bad he didn’t think of it before he left; the fuzzy faux fur lining of his jacket isn't cutting anymore after being dampened by snowflakes.

Yosuke is hit with a welcome gust of warm air when the door rattles open a few moments later. Yu’s smile right behind it, easy and fond, is welcome too. He's grateful for both.

“Come in, it's cold,” Yu says, reaching to take the bags in Yosuke's hands.

Yosuke kicks as much snow off of his boots as he can before he steps inside and closes the door behind him. A shiver tickles the back of his neck as he responds, “Pfft, you're telling me! I'm gonna be thawing out for the next freaking hour.”

“It's not that bad.” Chuckling, Yu plops the bags down on the kitchen table. A string of tricolor tinsel garland, red, green, and silver, spills out of one of them. “You brought more decorations?”

Off comes Yosuke's boots. Then his coat. “Yeah, so we can make the tree really cool and fancy for Nanako-chan, you know?”

“Mmm.” Yu nods. He takes a better look at the contents of the bags. There's an assortment of round ornaments in every color of the Christmas season – some small and glittery, others shiny and big enough to cover his palm; more garlands; half a box of peppermint candy canes; a large, sparkling silver star; and a hastily-bundled length of multicolored stringed lights. The lights partially uncoil the instant Yu picks them up. “These look expensive.”

“They're not,” Yosuke says, moving to join Yu at the dining table. He sidles close, shoulder to shoulder, helping himself to Yu's body heat as he takes over the short work of unbagging. “Well, I mean, they probably are, but they're what's left after decorating the tree at work.”

Yosuke then looks up at Yu, somewhat bashfully. “I, um, didn't think you'd mind too much where I got them since they're nice.”

“You're right, I don't,” Yu confirms. He gives Yosuke a quick, chaste peck on the cheek and another one of those secret, tender smiles. “Thank you, Yosuke.”

The kiss is barely anything, yet Yosuke's face becomes warm and tingly in the wake of it. He's still getting used to this… thing between them and the affection that comes with it. Yosuke's stomach does some kind of pleasantly weird shimmy too, amplifying his bashfulness as he says, “You don't have to thank me, partner. Besides,” he adds before Yu can deflect, “she's basically my little sister now too, right?”

Yosuke's sentiment earns him a wider smile from Yu and pride blossoms in his chest. Yu’s expression is possibly the brightest one since everything with Nanako began weeks ago; Yosuke's simply happy to be the one who helped make it so – with the truth, no less.

(Because, truthfully, Yosuke adopted Nanako the moment ‘whoa, Junes? I love Junes!’ squeaked out of her mouth. He was charmed; what else can he say?)

Yu drops another quick kiss on Yosuke's cheek, closer to the corner of his mouth, and says, “Really, Yosuke. Thank you.”

Fighting his blush back would be impossible, so Yosuke doesn't try to. Instead, he grabs a heap of garland.

“So, what do you say we get started, huh?”

  *

The artificial Christmas tree Yu digs out of Dojima's storage closet is much larger than Yosuke expects it to be. The placement of it partially obscures the living room TV and, although stored in pieces, it’s taller than both he and Yu once they snap the parts together, fluff it out, and make it look something like a real tree again.

Yosuke stands back to assess it while Yu crouches, making minor adjustments to the bottom-most branches.

“Looks pretty good already. Bet all the ornaments’ll fit,” he says, eyeing the tree from bottom to top. “Might need a stool to put the star up, though.”

Yu stands abruptly, pushing his sweater sleeves up to his elbows. “Oh! I think Uncle has one. Let me get it.”

Yet before he can whoosh past, Yosuke grabs Yu's wrist. “Wait a minute, we have to put the other stuff up! The star goes up last, you know?”

“It does?” Yu pauses thoughtfully. “I… didn't know that.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

As he glances over to the tree they've just put up, the quizzical expression on Yu's face fades. It becomes something soft, forlorn, and – for just a second – far away. “I've never really decorated a Christmas tree before. My parents don't like it.”

“Dude, what!?” Yosuke nearly shrieks in disbelief. He can't possibly have heard Yu correctly. He tugs on Yu’s wrist to make him turn back to him; Yu does but avoids meeting his gaze directly. “Your parents don't celebrate Christmas?”

“They kind of do,” Yu says quietly. “I get gifts. Clothes. Books. Things like that.”

Looking at everything but Yosuke, Yu punctuates his statement with a shrug. The downshift in his mood is palpable and Yosuke frowns, mentally giving himself a swift kick in the ass for his outburst.

They've talked about Yu's parents before, of course, but only in vague terms and short, clipped sentences. Yeses and nos; maybes and sometimes – hard-won answers, all pulled like teeth. It didn't take much for Yosuke to get the hint from their conversations that the topic is a touchy one, so even though he wants to know more about Yu's life, his pre-Inaba years, he resists the recurring urge to pry.

He just can't help his own surprise sometimes.

The Narukamis are weird, to say the least.

“Hey, well, at least I know what not to get you for Christmas next year,” Yosuke replies with a wink, pivoting into damage control mode. Time for a distraction. He steps away from Yu towards the sofa now cushioning their mass of ornaments, scoops up a few of them, and offers them to Yu. “Right or left side?”

Accepting Yosuke's offer, Yu makes a contemplative noise. He stares at the blue and silver baubles in his hands, at his distorted reflection in them. Ultimately, blandly, he says, “You pick.”

“C’mon, partner, I asked you first! Help a guy out here,” Yosuke mock-complains. He folds his arms over his chest, adding a dramatic sigh and pout.

It's super effective!

“Okay, okay,” Yu answers. The renewed smile tugging at his lips is small yet contagious, compelling Yosuke to mirror it back. “Left side.”

Yosuke's grin widens and he winks again. “Got it, right side it is.”

Yet, in mere moments, they fall into an easy, tranquil rhythm that has nothing to do with ‘sides,’ and everything to do with ‘vibes’; Yosuke winds up not hanging a single ornament himself. Instead, he lets Yu pick where each one goes, simply handing over new ones as he's asked for them.

For a few minutes, he simply watches his partner dedicate the same quiet focus to the Christmas tree’s decor as he does to everything else. From top to bottom, each bauble Yu hangs is mindfully and gently placed, and double-checked for security. None of them break, which is better than Yosuke's record – he shattered two before he even made it out of Junes.

Once the final ornament goes up, looped over a middling branch, Yu moves away and over to Yosuke's side. With a hand on his hip, he asks,

“What do you think?”

Yosuke looks up from checking his messages – and worrying about the fact that Chie’s settled on bringing cake for Nanako tomorrow – to give his opinion.

Yu's design is a tidy, simple one, with ornaments of like colours grouped in alternating rows of red, blue, green, and silver. Hardly any of the Christmas tree itself is visible beyond the clusters of ornaments; it's almost perfect as-is.

“Wow, partner, I'm impressed,” Yosuke says, folding his arms over his chest. He shoots Yu a playfully skeptical look. “You sure you've never decorated a tree before?”

“I'm sure… but I'm glad you like it,” Yu says, still wearing that small, pleased smile. Then, in a display of uncharacteristic shyness, he continues with, “tell me what comes next?”

Yu's eyes, voice, and statement all radiate a soft sincerity – and vulnerability – that makes Yosuke’s heart miss a beat. Who else in Inaba knows that Yu has never done something so simple as decorating a Christmas tree? Probably no one.

Mildly flustered, Yosuke turns in a full circle before actually stopping in the direction of the remaining decorations.

“Um, well.” Scanning what's left, he reaches for the heap of Christmas lights. “These, let's do these.”

With a nod of agreement, Yu takes them when given. The section that unraveled earlier turns out to be the only untangled portion of the bundle; the rest is knotted up like someone did it on purpose.

Angrily.

Yosuke grumbles the entire time – pretty sure these weren't like this earlier, what the heck? – it takes to detangle them, which is twice as long as it takes to neatly spiral the lights around the tree. And three times as long as it takes to add the sparkly garland.

But once that's done, and there's nothing left but candy canes (tossed aside) and the star to top the tree, Yu disappears to retrieve the necessary, aforementioned stool. As he places the stool and steps on it, steadying himself, he finds himself chuckling again at Yosuke's over-the-top cheer of, alright, partner, moment of truth!

Yu also finds that the stool doesn't give him quite enough height to reach the top of the tree. In hindsight, it's obvious that it was designed and purchased for Nanako – but since it wobbles some as he pushes up onto his tiptoes, maybe they should get a better one?

He thinks about that while he arranges the star on the tree, making sure the branch fits snugly inside the stem. He catches Yosuke hunting for an unused electrical outlet when he steps down but Yu already knows there isn't one, so as he sets the stool aside, he says, “you can unplug the TV for now, it's alright.”

“You sure?”

Yosuke pops upright to look at him; there's a faint look of concern on his face. The house will be quiet without the TV. For the second time today, Yu answers, “I'm sure.”

“Okay.”

Yosuke swaps the plugs and then backs away; once again, he and Yu stand in front of the Christmas tree to survey it in full. Plugged in, the Christmas lights twinkle and flicker as they come alive. Colour scatters over the ceiling and the floor and the room becomes cozier, and warmer, in their wake.

The Dojima house feels like a home again.

“Do you think she'll like it?” Yu asks softly, glancing up at the star topper.

“Like it?” Yosuke bumps their shoulders together, following Yu's gaze. “Dude, she's gonna love it, promise. It's great.”

“Thanks to you.”

Yosuke's only a millisecond away from downplaying the compliment when Yu's hand closes loosely around his own. The gesture makes him look over to Yu, whose smile and pink cheeks are easy to see, even from the side. Rethinking his response, Yosuke laces their fingers together and turns back to the glittering tree they decorated – together.

“You're welcome, partner.”

[brainrotgoblin]

ok SO. this is a long one, I apologize in advance.

Without knowing your personal tastes in shows/media, I'm going to give my favorites.

My personal favorite anime is Bungo Stray Dogs. A detective anime where real world authors are imagined as characters with special abilities based off of the books they wrote. It's sort of a crack show that turns into a really well fleshed out story with more serious themes. Heavy cw for suicide/mental health tho with that one. For fanservice/ick levels in BSD, there's a joke incest couple (a common happenstance in anime unfortunately but its a common comedy trope in japanese media), but it's not prominent at all minus a few jokes in the first few episodes.

The Promised Neverland is a psychological horror anime, and I wont say too much about it because *spoilers* :) Its seriously amazing. For fanservice, absolutely none. However. There is a character midway through season 1 named Sister Krone, her character is fleshed out writing-wise, but her design is a racist caricature of sorts. Otherwise I recommend the show so highly, its a show i wish i could see for the first time again. (also season 1 is where it ends. i prommy. Dont watch past that if you watch TPN for the sake of your own mental health).

Moving on to Sk8 the Infinity. Another personal favorite of mine, a goofy skateboarding show with the most endearing characters ever and gutwrenching (imo) interpersonal issues between the characters. Its also heavily queer coded which is cool, and is getting a second season sometime in the near future :). Another one i wish i could see for the first time again. It's only main issue imo is it's villain being pretty heavily coded as a groomer, but the show doesnt justify it really. Come for the goofy skateboarders stay for the queer couples that are basically canon ("Reki my love... of skateboarding-" a real quote from the show btw these boys are STUPID) and the kind of insane plot. Fanservice: not much, sorta just a lack of diversity with this one. Hoping it improves in s2

Death Note. what is there to say about death note that hasnt already been said. A classic anime with extremely impressive writing depicting god complexes, and the consequences of what it means to inflict personal justice. It's another detective show but the core of it is a commentary on black and white thinking. I think about this show so often osduifjowisejf. Fanservice/ick: none as far as i remember. I need to rewatch the show but any sort of sexual comments (of which there aren't many) are used in a way to further develop existing characters and how they interact with others. No weirdos in this one just psychological horror and a pinch of existential dread <3.

BNA (Brand New Animal). A lesser known anime about furry city and societal commentary. It does do the whole animals as a metaphor for racism bit but its not the main focus of the show and has more of a focus on class struggle (..and religious imagery. for some reason) and interpersonal conflicts! A bonus to this anime is also that it's absolutely STUNNING, I love Studio Triggers art and the COLORS ough. Scrumptious. There's no icks or fanservice in this show from what I remember, the mc is a woman (and is sort of a metaphor for a mixed race kid) and we love her for that. Extremely strong characters all around. Good show :) (sidenote! BNA did get discontinued due to lack of popularity so theres a few loose plot threads that will unfortunately never get tied up. Just a fair warning).

My last anime rec. I think. Im listing off the less offensive ones, so theres not as many in my immediate list. Saiki K! A comedy anime that focuses primarily on subverting anime tropes. The main character Saiki has basically every power under the sun, and would be a typical mary sue esc character but his main goal in life is to be the most unnoticed person ever. I dont think any summary i write could do it justice so I'm just gonna promise that this show is genuinely so good and I highly recommend it. Fair warning that most of the characters aren't the most developed as they're meant to be direct characterizations of tropes and not much more than that. For fanservice and icky stuff theres none that I can remember. I haven't seen season 2 though, as theres no english dub.

(also i agree with the dunmeshi recs i just saw it recommended like 3 times so i dont need to repeat it)

There's my unnecessarily lengthy opinions :) I wish you happy anime watching, its a really fun category of media!

wanna try watching some kind of anime at some point because they look cool but a. i know there's a misogyny and racism problem and im not sure which ones are bad about it and b. i have no idea where to even start with that

[septfair]

[#18A SUGARCLOUD TRANSITION] (In this transition OCEAN holds the hand of CONSTANCE, as if seeing her friend for the first time. She whispers to her wordlessly “I’m sorry”.)

[tsubasaclones]

She's DONE!!! Sorry random obscure 90s vn girl whose garage kit I repurposed.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

getting gnc with it out & about at math meetup (or wherever)

[screampied]

you don’t really realize you’re growing old with satoru until you spot a grey tress inside the roots of your hair as you’re looking in the mirror. the thing about marriage and life itself was that time really doesn’t stop—for no one. as you entrap the lock between your fingers, you murmur out to satoru with a cheeky grin. “satoru baby, c’mere.”and as he’s lying in bed with a wrinkled nose, he reads some book titled ‘three men in a boat.’ as he flips a thick page, his cerulean blue reading glasses crook down the bridge of his nose before he turns his attention toward you.

“yesss, honey?” he rubs his eyes, bringing a palm up to his growing stubble. as he got older, you noticed how he moved a bit slower. satoru was still fit as he aged, but he’d have a bit of a waddle whenever he walked. it was cute—how his limbs were getting more and more fragile, but he was still labeled as the strongest despite his inevitable aging.

he makes his way behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. the two of you make eye contact through the mirror that reflects you both, a happy married couple. “look, we’re finally matching now,” and his face softens once you bring the silvery colored strand up to his view. ‘matching,’ because his hair was naturally a snowy white . . almost similar to the strand of hair you just showed him.

although as the years progressed, satoru was growing ashen grey streaks too.

“i guess we are,” he replied in a gentle tone, his hands remaining on your hips. satoru’s touch was always gentle and ginger. he presses his lips near the back of your nape before letting off a soft sigh. “you’d look pretty with white hair, actually.”

“prettier than you?” you hum, glancing at him through the mirror. satoru towers over you as he holds you, the band of his wedding ring grazing against your hip.

again, you watch as the corners of his lips crease into a smile. a toothy genuine one where his dimples show.

“haha, veeeery funny,” and as he buries his face into your neck, he deeply ponders to himself for a moment.

to think . . how much time has passed, out of all the countless tiresome battles he’s had to face—

all those years at trying to keep the world safe and now, he could finally relax. having his arms around you gave him a peace of mind, and in the end it was all worth it because at the end of the day, satoru gojo—the strongest, came back to you. you were his personal safe haven and he was yours.

“but honeyyy,” he yawns with rosy pouty lips, shifting his chin up to rest against your left shoulder. satoru starts leading you toward your side of the bed. “ ‘s pretty late, let’s getcha back to bed, hm?”

“okay,” you mumble, already feeling your eyes starting to get heavy again. satoru’s still got his burly arms wrapped around your waist as he leisurely guides you back to bed. he was clingy, and that never changed. satoru gojo’s always been clingy ever since the two of you met. as he pulls down the cover for you to enter, you crawl back in and he gets beside you.

satoru slings an arm around you, pulling you close as his hooded eyes starts a staring contest with the swaying wooden ceiling fan.

it’s moving slow. . just like time was.

whenever he was with you, it felt as if time stood still. and as the both of you cuddled against each other with your head resting against his beating heart, he sighs. it’s a content happy sigh, and satoru’s hands find their way near the top of your head. his thin fingers maze it’s way near your soft grey growing strand before he leans in, giving the crown of your head a goodnight kiss. “mwah,” and he watches as your eyes briefly widen before glancing away, growing sheepish. “get some rest, my love. i’ll be here when you wake up. promise.”

you nod, too drowsy to reply and he pulls you closer. satoru’s heartbeat was steady and slow, and each pulse that bested against your ear made you felt more and more protected. as he holds you firm and close, a hand of his softly caresses your forehead—brushing against the soft hairs that cling onto your skin.

as your breathing starts to relax and your eyelids finally close, he realizes you finally drifted off to sleep. satoru exhales lowly, almost forgetting to take off his reading glasses. as he places them near the nightstand, he lies back down, giving your sleeping state once last glance.

“i love you,” he whispers against your ear before reaching for the pearled lamp switch. “so much.”your head nuzzles against his chest and he assumes that was your non-verbal way of saying it back, even in your sleep. cute.

the only sounds that could be heard were the faint tick tocking of the grandfather clock that stood near the hallway and your soft breathing as you deeply slept. satoru feels a smile tugging against his glossed lips yet again, but this time it’s different . .

it’s not the same smile from when you showed him that you were graying, it was a more genuine smile that was satisfied at everything—primarily at life. satoru’s long crystalline lashes gradually flap shut as he smiles to himself, a thumb brushing against your forehead. all those battles was worth it in the end, because right now, he’s at the only place he wanted to be . . with you.

life wasn’t a competition, but satoru finally felt at peace, true peace—and that peace was being in your presence. he wasn’t one for believing in good endings, but maybe this particular one wasn’t so bad.

“i . . won.”