#we'll see if I still have time to do today's prompt as well

[the-insomniac-emporium]

SWORDTEMBER '24, DAY 7: FLOW

{Late because I got a terrible migraine out of the blue yesterday. Very happy with this one, and it references not only one of my main OCs, but the overarching plot of one of my original stories. Please enjoy!} -----

Item ID: 6O-2407 Item Name: Timekeeper’s Cutlass Category: ERROR://CLASSIFICATION INVALID://MANUAL USER INPUT: ARTIFACT Origin Point: Time Immemorial, Voided Owner: ■■■ ■■■■■■■■ (C), Triampheus ■■■■■■■■ (O) Description: A blade of a traditional Earthen design, reminiscent of the age of pirates. Approximately ■■ cm length, with a ■■ cm handle, ■■ cm at the widest point. Samples taken from the blade, hilt, and the guard overloaded the analysis unit. Scans were inconclusive upon repeated testing. Visual assessment indicates the item is most likely made from seaglass and driftwood. In place of a central fuller, there is a hollow middle filled with grains of sand, endlessly shifting from one end to the other, chased by a slow moving strand of water. An hourglass is carved into the bottom of the hilt. If alone with the item, one will hear the sound of rushing water (this sound is not picked up by any recording devices). Touching the item with bare skin induces hallucinations based on whoever previously touched it, regardless of whether or not one has met the previous individual. Cataloger’s Notes: I’m not bothering with any pretenses today. Truth of the matter is that we never should have gotten hold of this, I want nothing to do with it, and nobody is ever going to read this file other than myself (and even then, it will only be as a reminder to myself). As soon as I’m done recording these notes, this item is getting handed off to people far more qualified than myself. Every other record of this item will be wiped from FPA systems, even the backup servers. Nobody needs to know we had our hands on an artifact of this importance… nor do they need to know we unwittingly used it. May the Ancients forgive my sins, and the sins of my partner. We did not know. ERROR://FILE NOT UPLOADED TO PRIMARY SERVER://ERROR://PLEASE SYNC LOCAL FILES WITH CLOUD://ERROR://FILE SYNC CANCELED BY USER C.DELA://

-----

Cynthia should have known better. By now, she’s catalogued over a thousand items in the span of a decade, from weapons to ancient art, from contraband pharmaceuticals to exotic pets. On three occasions she has encountered items known as artifacts: Relics, both old and new, infused with terrible power. Each one has only briefly been held by the FPA, before being swiftly taken to those with higher authority. But even a minute in the presence of an artifact can change one’s life.

The Timekeeper’s Cutlass is not as obvious of an artifact as most. Whoever tried to mail it must not have known what it was, and those who handled it in between must have worn gloves. As soon as Cynthia was alone with the item, she felt its power, and heard the sea-song in the air. She knew, then, what thing lay on her desk. It was the first time she had ever been this close to an artifact, and her heart raced at the prospect of cataloging such a find. Who could blame her?

She did not forsake her duties, did not set out to play with it. Immediately, she made the proper phone calls, arranged the item’s retrieval first. Only then did she set out to log the details, knowing sooner or later Naomi would be stopping by to take her out for dinner. That was her excuse, maybe, that she’d only work until being interrupted. A foolish thought.

Artifacts set the time of all who touch them.

It only takes a single touch of her bare skin against the seaglass to “activate” the item. An accidental brush of her wrist against the material, a microsecond of contact, and Cynthia is no longer in her office. Now she is falling, falling, flying until she is in another body entirely, seeing through another’s eyes. Feeling what they feel. Voices whisper in her ears, overlapping until one word becomes clear: Triampheus. A Goddess, for one, but a common enough name among worshippers. Once the voices cut off, suddenly, Cynthia is free to witness glimpses into the life of another.

There is war. Long did it brew, across countless planets, at last stirred up by the atrocities of a few madmen. Flashes of combat, of death, a mentor laid to rest when a truce is broken. Rage. Sorrow. Desperation in the hearts of the viewpoint. It has to end. They will end it. Threats are made, are ignored, a display of power is taken too far. An entire planet held between their hands. One last warning, time for innocents to evacuate. Finally they are taken seriously.

But their control is not strong enough. They never wanted it to end this way. Blood from their eyes, their nose, their ears. Too much power- a Goddess channeled in mortal flesh. Either they break or the planet does, there is no letting go. The choice is made for them… and an entire world collapses in on itself. There is no more war, not anymore.

There is only a manhunt.

“Cynthia, please, please wake up,” Naomi’s voice cuts through the end of the vision, breaks away from what might be the future, draws her back into her body. Instantly she’s all but throwing herself into her girlfriend’s arms, pressing her face against Naomi’s neck and sobbing. There are no words to describe what she has seen.

“Don’t- don’t touch the sword,” Cynthia chokes out between sobs. For a moment there’s no sound other than her crying, Naomi going stiff. Was it too early in their relationship for this level of intensity? A few months was hardly enough time for Naomi to grow accustomed to the sort of things Cynthia has to inspect, but surely- her anxious thoughts are cut off by a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“I… I touched it. And I think- I hope- that we didn’t see the same thing. Because I… I really liked what I saw,” Naomi admits, in a reassuring whisper. One hand rubs gentle circles into Cynthia’s back as they sit together, and soon enough the crying slows, then stops. Finally, the archivist pulls back just far enough to look up with questioning eyes. Her curiosity overwhelms. “Telling you what I saw… I’m worried that it might change things. If… if that is the future. So, please, let me say no more than that there will be boundless joy. You will be safe, and happy, and you won’t be alone.”

Nothing could fully soothe Cynthia, not yet, but the words bring her a sense of hope. She may have dreamed of a stranger’s war, but Naomi had dreamed of the life that would come after. A life that would be shared with her.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3

Parts 1 and 2

They both fall silent and stare. 

That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?

Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.

“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”

Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.

Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”

Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”

Jesus Christ.

Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.

Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.

It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.

“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.

The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”

“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.

Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.

“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”

Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.

His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.

“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”

When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.

“Please, Danny. We miss you.”

Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”

“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.

Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 

His nails are black and green. Gradient.

Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.

“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.

Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.

“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.

Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”

“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”

Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.

“Okay, dick.”

It's like they never parted at all for a moment.

“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”

Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.

The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 

He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”

Part 4

Masterpost

[hettyoon]

❥︎ Characters; Rafayel, Xavier Game; Love and deepspace

❥︎ Genre; fluff !! Prompt; 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙒𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙐𝙋 || established relationship || 2nd pov

❥︎ Warnings; none !!

❥︎ Notes; this is either going to be a new start for my writing era or I'm going to post this and dip for another year or two, we'll see. (also only rafayel chibi this post cause I haven't had the time to draw xavier <\3)

MAIN M.LIST

❥︎ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋;

Your chest rose and fell steadily with each breath, eyes closed, head cradled by the soft material of your pillow. This was, undoubtedly, the most peaceful moments of your morning, and you lay there in your slumber undisturbed—until a soft, hairy something brushed against your face. It tickled your nose, making you abruptly turn your head to the side. Your hands shot up, rubbing the itching trail left behind by the unwelcome touch. Slowly, you opened your eyes, wanting to uncover the culprit behind your less-than-pleasant awakening.

Of course, that being said, you already knew who it would be. There was only one person who would come into your room unannounced this early in the morning.

A groan escaped your lips as your gaze locked onto the set of pink eyes looking right back at you. "Rafayel! What was that for? And what did you just place on my face right now."

The purple haired man, who was sitting on the drawer right next to your bedside, crossed his hands while lifting his brow at you, as if offended by your words. "Don't look at me like that, you're the one who told me you had an important meeting today, and yet here you are still asleep in your bed at 10am. Do you know how many times I tried calling you before I came here?" He huffed out the last part as if annoyed by the matter, although you knew it was all an act.

"Rafayel, the meeting doesn't even start until 1pm, what are you talking about?" You had a strong feeling he was just using it as an excuse to come see you, but you spared the man the embarrassment of saying that out loud. Plus you thought it was kind of cute of him to do so. Not that there was any need for him to hear that though, his ego is already big enough as it is.

"Details, details." He waved off your words with his hands.

You sighed, simply uses to his antics at this point. Well, it was about time you woke up anyways, but still, "You didn't answer my initial question."

"Oh, you're talking about this?" A small white feather was revealed from between his fingers. "I thought it would be useful for waking you up. I called out your name multiple times and you didn't answer, you have quite the thick sleep."

"Where did you even get that fro– you know what, nevermind. I don't even want to know." Using your feet you kicked the blankets off from your body, sitting up to stretch your body and get yourself ready for the day. "I was just exhausted because of yesterday's mission, I'm not usually that tired."

Rafayel let out a smug grin at your reply, as if he'd been waiting for those exact words to escape your mouth. "I know. Which is why I got us these." He reached out behind him and pulled out two colourful tickets.

Well that you definitely did not see coming. You couldn't believe your eyes, is that really what you were seeing in his hands? "Rafayel, are those for the resort I mentioned to you the other day?" The shock was very evident in your tone and you could practically feel the pride radiating off him. Honestly, you didn't even know how he had heard you talking about that resort the other day. You were just chilling on his couch while he was painting, scrolling through your feed and simply commented out loud on how sweet it looked, it wasn't even a real conversation. You didn't think he would remember, let alone buy you both tickets for it!

It then dawned on you what you had planned upcoming for you these next days and your happiness faltered a bit. "That's really sweet of you Rafayel. I don't even know how you remembered that, but I still have a bunch of meetings and missions I am supposed to take on this week and–"

"Nuh uh uh." Before you could even finish your sentence Rafayel moved to stand right next to you and placed his finger on top of your mouth to seal it shut. "Don't worry your head about all of that, I already got it all sorted out." One of his eyes closed as he shot a wink at you with a grin on his face.

"Sorted out...what do you mean?"

"I asked your captain to let you off for this week, of course. And since you were always so hard working and the wanderer attacks have been on the low lately, she didn't have any problems with that. I made sure to book us the best room too so you can sleep as much as you like when we get there."

Your eyes slightly teared up at his words and at the lengths your lover would go to pull off these sweet surprises for you. "Thank you Rafayel, truly." You wrapped your hands around him in a tight hug, hiding you face between the crook of his neck to conceal your happy tears. "I love you so much."

His hands instantly wrapped around your body returning the hug back even tighter. "Of course, anything for you. And I love you too."

❥︎ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑;

"My love."

Your mind was drifting away in a dreamless sleep when you heard the sound of a faint voice calling out to you right beside your head. A few seconds passed before you then heard it again, "My love." Which made you begrudgingly peel your eyes open with a groan to lock eyes with your lover who was plopped down on the floor of your room, leaning on the edge of your bed to make himself eye level with you.

His eyes seem to light up at your physical response to his calls and a soft smile grows on his face. "Ah good, you're awake finally."

"Xavier," The tiredness still lingering around your voice, you let out a small yawn while one of your hands reached out to cup his cheek in you hands, your thumb going back and forth in gentle gestures along soft skin beneath it. "How long have you been here?" Both you and Xavier had keys to each other's apartment, so it wasn't much of a surprise to see him in your room first thing in the morning. Usually, though, it was the other way around, with you being the one to wake him from his nightly rest.

The guy tilted his head seemingly in thought, taking a quick glance at the digital clock sitting on your desk that had the time displayed in glowing white numbers. "Hmm, I've been trying to wake you up for the past 20 minutes, I think?"

Your hand dropped from his face as you shot up from your bed. "20 minutes?! Oh my god, Xavier why didn't you just shake me awake or something." Was he really here calling out to you for that long? Listen you knew you were exhausted from yesterday's mission and the extensive paperwork that followed but not to this extent!

Xavier didn't really seem to bat an eye at your look of surprise and simply continued on with his words. "Well, I tried to wake you up at first but you looked so peaceful in your sleep I didn't want to disturb you. I tried to go make something for us to have as breakfast in the kitchen but I couldn't figure out how to turn on your stove so." He scratched his cheek sheepishly at the end of his sentance but you inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Oh you were so thankful he did not figure out how to turn on that stove of yours. God knows what kind of explosion you would've woken up to if he did.

Nevertheless, you still chuckled at his silliness. Plus your heart couldn't help but warm up at the sweet gesture, even if he didn’t get to fufill it. "Thank you, Xavier. But next time you can just leave the cooking to me, okay? You know what, now that you mention it I'm in the mood for some pancakes, how about I make us some?"

Xavier rose up from his place on the floor and made himself comfortable next to you on your bed. His hand lifted up to comb through the strands of your hair trying to tame the pieces of bed hair that you acquired from your slumber. "That sounds amazing, love." You felt the warmth of his body get closer as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your eye. A little quirk of his that he likes to do a lot.

Your eye crinkled at the gesture and you dropped your head to rest it on his shoulder after he pulled away, nuzzling into the wooly fabric of his jumper. "Next time you should be more firm with waking me up. I don't mind, you know. Plus I feel bad for having you wait for me to wake up like that."

You could feel the white haired man shake his head in disagreement at your words. "It's okay, you deserve the rest anyways, and your presence alone is enough for me." His voice a soft tone as a loving kiss found its way to the top of your head. You cuddled even deeper into his side, placing a kiss of your own onto the clothing against his shoulder. Truly, what did you do to deserve someone as sweet as him in your life.

Although unbeknownst to you, your lover was having the exact same thought as you in that exact moment.

❥︎ As always, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <33

Hetty

[dwaekkicidal]

Curly Hair Routine with Changbin

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Teaching Changbin how to take care of his curls. based off this post/request!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1k (how did i do this.. i thought it was like 500)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: none really :3 just fluff and mentioned that reader has longish, curly hair

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: i saw a few moots repost that prompt and i have curly hair (like 3A/3B?) that i've been learning to take care of the last few years so :3 thought this was cyuuute!!! also probably gonna write chris' later today/tomorrow! (my insomnia came back so.. we'll see when it gets done LMFAO)

@chaeryred (also @httpdwaekki cause hehe) i hope you guys like it >< thought it came off a little messy but i still think its pretty cute

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

"YAH! IT'S TOO COLD"

"SIT STILL! I JUST HAVE TO WASH IT OUT-"

"NO!!!! MOM!!! HEEEEEEELP-"

After wrestling your boyfriend like a cat taking a bath, you managed to wash the rest of the conditioner out of his hair and wrap his head up in a towel. You sent him to sit on the floor in the living room while you went to grab all your products from your bedroom. Once you returned, you were met with the biggest pout you've ever seen mixed with the nastiest side eye known to man. His head is almost completely wrapped up in a towel, minus the big circle where part of his face peeks out, and his arms are crossed sassily.

You couldn't help but smile and chuckle, shaking your head as you dropped the products and tools on the couch. You sit directly behind him, putting your legs on either side of his shoulders and leaning him into you. He shivers and your heart pangs a little, but you lean forward and wrap your arms around him and rub them soothingly. A quiet 'hmph!' comes from him and you laugh again.

"I'm sorry, baby. You said you wanted to do my hair routine just like me. And I always end it off with rinsing with cold water." Your fingers sneak into the hole in the towel and pull it back some, exposing his cheeks more as well as some of his wet hair. He makes the angry noise again and throws a small fit, turning away from you and tugging the towel back to its previous position in defiance.

You peck his cheek a few times and combine it with a mumbled apology. Then a small smile forms on his face and you start ruffing the towel, rubbing your hands back and forth and using it to poke fun at him while also starting to dry his hair off. Giggles erupt from the both of you as he drops the tough act and reacts to the ticklish feeling, his distinct giggle ringing through your ears in the best way possible.

Once you both have calmed down, and he's no longer feigning distress, you start to gently dry his hair. "I brought a mirror too." His hair is mostly dry and you grab your brush before realizing that Changbin's eyes have been glued to the show on TV. This was supposed to be a learning experience so you wanted him to watch, but it was also endearing to see him trust you so blindly that he resorts to iPad-baby tendencies.

"Are you gonna watch me do it so you can learn, or was this just an excuse for you to get pampered?" You tease, tilting his head back gently so he can look you in the eyes. He smiles apologetically and reaches for the mirror, "Sorry, Bunny. Got a little distracted hehe. I am your apprentice tonight! Teach away, Jagi." You smile widely and lean down again to place a kiss on his lips. One he reciprocates it before fixing his posture and placing the mirror in position.

He then lowers the television down and sits there patiently, allowing you to take him through the steps and using the mirror to peek at what your hands are doing. You start it off by showing him the products and explaining what they do and then tell him how you're supposed to use them, using a strand of his hair as an example.

Each step doesn't take long, thanks to the fact that he memorized the first few steps of your routine; the brushing and cream application. What you did explain was the styling techniques. He could have just left it as is and not done anything, or he could do what you do and finger-coil each strand.

He had seen how you slaved over your hair for over an hour each time you finger-coiled it and was dreading his experience to be similar to that. But thanks to how short his hair was compared to yours, it was a cakewalk. However, when he tried to coil one strand himself, his fingers did manage to get tangled in each other a few times... but you have to experience something to really learn from it! And the texture of the gel you used seemed to drive him crazy, but he got used to it eventually.

Then it was onto drying! You had brought out the diffuser attachment- or.. what Changbin called the "claws of death," for your hair dryer. He had seen you use it countless times before, but it looked like a jumbled mess of things from the outside and he never knew if there was a technique to it or if it was just random movements.

After teaching him the tips and tricks you used for extra volume and just how to diffuse his hair in general on a small section of his hair, you watched proudly as he dried the rest of his hair on his own with little to no problems. You did a dramatic reveal, wiggling your fingers and adding a "Tada~" when he looked into the mirror for the final time.

He stared for a while, eyes tracing the unfamiliar, defined curls on his head. They were pretty, and you have literally never seen his hair like that before. But what really made it worth it was his reaction. A big smile grew on his face and he turned to you, crawling up the couch to give you a big kiss. "Thank you, Bunny."

"Of course, baby. You look good like this." You smiled and admired your handiwork for a while until you remembered that today was supposed to be your wash day in the first place.

"Okay!! Time for me to wash my hair now." You peck him on the lips and playfully shove him onto the couch, running away after. The pitter-patter of his steps chases after you and he wraps his hands around you once the water is turned back on.

"Wait. I want to do it!" He smiles widely despite the unsure face you make. But he's your Binnie, so it's kind of hard not to cave in. You agree and resume the same position he had earlier, sitting on the tile with your neck resting on the edge and your head hovering over the big bowl of the tub. He steals another kiss before gathering your hair products and directing the water to your head.

"Don't worry, Bunny. I'm a professional at this~"

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha

@bubblerizz

[destinationtoast]

Hello! I keep hearing that fandom culture has changed, and there are less comments now than there were years ago. Have you noticed this in your analysis? Is the percentage of comments being left today lower than before?

Hey! Thanks for the question -- it prompted me to start collecting data about comments (after procrastinating on it for a while, because I had to write new code to gather comment data). I've also seen other discussions from folks also thinking about how to do this kind of analysis (like in the fandom data projects community) -- hopefully we'll end up with multiple people attacking this from different angles and getting a variety of data about comments!

I'll give a sneak preview that partially addresses your question and contains some good news. If we look at the fraction of AO3 works that get at least one comment (focusing just on one-shots for now), I think things have gotten better over the past decade on AO3*:

In other words, it tentatively looks like more works were getting at least one comment in 2024 than in 2014 (for a variety of time periods). One caveat, though -- if a bunch of works with no comments got deleted in the interim, there will be survivor bias here. I'll try to look into that possibility later. Another caveat: this is based on only like ~100 randomly selected works from each year -- this may all change with more data!

Another interesting tidbit: I still see some of the 2014 works getting comments. In fact, ~30% of works have gotten new comments over 5 years after they were posted, and it looks like ~10% of one-shots posted back in Mar 2014 got a new comment in 10 years later, in 2024.

I'm still doing other analyses; there may be other factors that better match with the discourse around how comment culture has changed. It could be that comment activity peters out faster now than it did back then, for instance. Or the total number of comments left on the popular works is less now than it was back then (though my current methods may not be able to capture that). Edit thanks to quick eagle-eyed readers: it's likely that some of what people are thinking about is ratio of comments to hits -- that is hard to compare in 2014 to 2024, because we don't know which hits came from which years. But I am working on some analyses along those lines. :)

If you have other hypotheses about what's changed in commenting culture, feel free to share! I'll look into what I can.

Some methodology notes:

*I've been tackling this by comparing AO3 one-shots posted in early 2014 to one-shots posted in 2024, and comparing activity in the days/weeks/months immediately after the works were posted. (To start with, I'm only scraping the first page of comments for each work -- meaning the first 20 comment threads -- so there are lots of comments I'm potentially missing for the really popular works. But for many works, this captures all the comments, and I think it may be sufficient for a lot of the analyses I am interested in.)

I'm choosing to focus on 2014 vs. 2024 because 2024 is close to now (but it's been long enough for comments to have settled down a bit), and 2014 was well after AO3 was established (thus it was already a pretty lively time on AO3). I don't want to collect data about every single year because it's too time intensive/too hard on AO3's servers. But if people think that I should be looking at different years, I'm interested in feedback.

Because it's only been ~10 months since March 2024, I am limiting a lot of my analyses to only look at commenting activity the first ~10 months after works were posted in both cases.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

oooo drabe request okay

reader is at a family gathering and accidentally slips into a submissive headspace during dinner and calls wanda mommy. the rest is up to you

In Safe Hands

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x sub!fem!reader

Summary: At a family gathering you have a slip of the tongue and that doesn't go over well with your mom.

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Age gap relationship (W=34 R=23), Dom/sub dynamics(vague), subspace, R calls Wanda Mommy, R's mom has some emotionally abusive mannerisms/narcissistic, hurt/comfort, Wanda makes sure you're okay.

Authors notes: I don't think I ever would have thought of this prompt on my own, but I loved writing for this scenario.

You feel the warmth of your family's chatter enveloping you as you sit at the dinner table, the clinking of cutlery against plates creating a comforting rhythm. It's a typical family gathering, full of laughter and familiar faces. Your girlfriend Wanda, who your family knows well and has grown to love, sits beside you, her presence a grounding comfort.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself sinking into a cozy, relaxed state, lulled by the background noise and the comforting presence of Wanda. The world around you begins to blur slightly, your mind slipping into a subspace without you realizing it. Wanda's gentle touch on your hand anchors you further, a soft smile on her lips as she engages with your family.

In this serene haze, you lean closer to Wanda, her warmth and scent filling your senses. You feel safe, protected, and deeply loved. Without thinking, you murmur softly, "Mommy, can you pass the salt?"

Your face flushes as you realize what just slipped out of your mouth. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and the murmur of conversations come to a sudden halt. You look around the table, seeing wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Your mother’s gaze locks onto you, sharp and unforgiving.

"What was that?" she demands, her tone harsh and filled with a mix of confusion and anger.

You stammer, desperately searching for the right words. "I… it was a mistake. I didn't mean to…"

Wanda, sitting next to you, gently places her hand on yours under the table, a subtle gesture of support. You feel a mix of gratitude and mortification.

Your mother’s eyes narrow. "A mistake? That didn't sound like a mistake."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Mom, I’m sorry. It just slipped out. It’s... it's a private thing between Wanda and me."

The tension in the room is thick. Your family members look between you, Wanda, and your mother, uncertain of what to do or say. Your mother takes a deep breath, clearly trying to maintain her composure.

"We'll talk about this later," she says, her voice cold but more controlled. She turns back to her plate, signaling the end of the conversation for now, but you know this isn't over.

You squeeze Wanda's hand, silently thanking her for being there. The rest of the dinner feels like it drags on forever, each minute filled with the weight of what just happened.

As dinner finally concludes, you feel a mix of dread and inevitability wash over you. Your mother, still fuming, stands up and motions for you to follow her. The walk to your childhood bedroom is painfully familiar, yet today it feels more like a walk to the gallows. Each step echoes with the weight of what's to come.

Once inside the room, she closes the door firmly behind you. The familiar surroundings of your childhood—posters, trophies, and old books—do nothing to comfort you. If anything, they heighten your anxiety, reminding you of a time when things were simpler and less complicated.

Your mother turns to face you, her eyes blazing with anger. "What on earth were you thinking, calling Wanda that at the dinner table?" she snaps. "Do you have any idea how inappropriate that was? In front of the entire family?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. "Mom, it was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just slipped out."

She shakes her head, disbelief etched across her features. "An accident? That was more than just a slip of the tongue. It was embarrassing for you, for me, and for everyone else there. How do you think your father felt hearing that? Or your grandparents?"

You feel a lump forming in your throat, the sting of her words hitting hard. "I’m sorry, Mom. I really am. It wasn’t intentional. It’s just... something private between Wanda and me."

"Private?" she scoffs. "There’s a time and a place for everything, and that was definitely not it. You need to understand the impact of your actions. What if people start talking? What if this gets out beyond the family?"

You wince at the thought. "I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful."

Your mother takes a deep breath, her anger slowly giving way to a look of disappointment. "I just expected better from you. I thought I raised you to know better than to do something like this. What happened to you?"

Her words cut deep, and you can feel tears welling up. "Mom, I’m still the same person. I just made a mistake. Please understand."

She sighs, rubbing her temples. "We’ll talk more about this another time. I need to cool down. Just... think about what you've done and how you’re going to fix it."

As she leaves the room, you collapse onto your old bed, the weight of the confrontation settling heavily on your shoulders. Wanda's presence downstairs is a small comfort, but right now, you feel utterly alone in this moment of reckoning.

Laying on your old bed, feeling the echoes of childhood and the sting of your mother's words, you hear a soft knock on the door. Wanda enters, a reassuring presence amid the storm. She carries both your coats, signaling her readiness to leave if you need to, but instead of urging you out the door, she sits beside you and begins to gently rub your back.

"You don't owe them anything, Detka," she whispers, her voice a soothing balm. "Look at me, sweet girl."

You turn to her, as you always do, feeling the comfort of her gaze. You’ve always been so good for Wanda, and her steady presence is a lifeline right now. She takes your hand in hers, her touch grounding you.

"It was an accident," she continues, her tone firm yet loving. "You got a bit overwhelmed and slipped, and it's okay. While you talked with your mom, I smoothed things over with everyone else. I told them about a time when I asked you not to do something and you replied with, 'okay, mom,' and since then, there have been moments where we joke and you say something like that to me."

Tears prick at your eyes, welling up at the corners as you look at Wanda, overwhelmed by her kindness and her instinct to protect you. Her unwavering support wraps around you like a comforting blanket, making the harshness of your mother’s words fade into the background.

"You did that for me?" you whisper, voice thick with emotion.

Wanda nods, her eyes soft and understanding. "Of course I did. I always will. We’ll get through this together, alright?"

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. Leaning into her, you let the tears fall, knowing she’s there to catch you. She holds you close, her hand continuing its soothing motion on your back.

"Let’s get out of here for a bit," Wanda suggests gently. "We can take a walk, get some fresh air. You need a break from all this."

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight lift slightly. "Okay," you agree, your voice small but steadier now.

With Wanda by your side, you know you’ll face whatever comes next, together. As you stand and slip on your coat, you give her hand a grateful squeeze. She smiles, and for the first time since the dinner incident, you feel a glimmer of hope.

[jinisnuggets]

Hey, how are you? May I request an idol Choi San x male reader ? The reader has an obsession with Sanrio and shojos. San always appears in his vlogs, and they are very lovey-dovey, but San's face has always been hidden in the vlogs. Fluff, please! Sorry if it's long

---

Si tu veux des ajustements ou une autre manière de le formuler, fais-le-moi savoir !

➳ ᏦᏬᏒᎧᎷᎥ

PAIRINGS | Idol! San x Vlogger! Male! Reader

WORD COUNT | 0.8k

GENRE | Fluff

WARNINGS | Male reader acts feminine! No actual name of bf mentioned

SYNOPSIS | On your anniversary with your mysterious boyfriend, you decided to film a vlog of your special day.

NETWORKS | @k-library @starlit-network @blossomnet @illusionnet

A/N | Hi anon! Firstly, I'd like to thank you for being specific with your request while still giving me creative freedom. Truly! I thank you tons for hopefully reading through my rules and following them! 💗 Next! I believe you put in a request for Soobin with almost the same prompt, I made this so you can also imagine him with it as well if you would wish :) one more thing, I genuinely have no idea how to write a french reader, so I apologize for that -v-

Your jacket was wrapped around your waist with your crop top neatly tucked underneath your jeans. You took the phone which was neatly stored into your pocket and removed it, going into the camera app before pressing the record button.

You set your phone on the desk and took a seat, waving at the phone.

“Hello-” You started but quickly burst out laughing.

No matter how many times you did your intro you'd never get used to the silliness of practically greeting a camera.

“Okay - for real this time-”

“Hello! So, if you were here for my last vlog, I spoke about the 3 year anniversary with my boyfriend. And it's today- well probably not whenever this comes out- but the point is that it's today, as in the day I'm filming this and we'll be spending some time together.”

“For starters, I will not be filming everything today since it is a special day and would like to spend it mostly with him. Alone-” you teased, laughing again before standing up and walking a far distance from the phone.

“Do you guys think this will do or should I wear something else?” You chuckled, going back to the phone after posing for a bit and picking it up, bringing it with you to your bed.

“He's going to pick me up so I'm just going to wait here.”

You rolled over and flipped the camera angle, revealing the bookshelf above your bed which was full of comical mangas.

You picked up the action figure which sat above and showed the camera.

“I recently got this on my trip to Japan, I thought it was really cute.” you stated enthusiastically.

“I know I'm gonna be seeing a lot of comments saying ‘oh but Y/n, you already have a lot of Kuromi’s-’ but I don't know what to do- I can't stop collecting them; they're too cute.” you whined, placing the action figure back on the shelf along with your other collection of Kuromi’s.

You looked at the phone and smiled.

“He's here, so I'm gonna go ahead and go to the parking lot.” You said, opening the door after slipping on some shoes and making your way down the stairs. You walked down silently so as to not disturb your neighbors and searched the lot for his car, spotting it shortly after and beginning to walk towards it.

You knocked on the window and opened the car door, taking a seat on the passenger seat and glancing over at him.

“Hello!” You immediately said, opening up your arms as he leaned over and hugged you tightly.

Embracing you warmly, he planted a kiss on your lips and refused to let you go. “Jeez, I missed you so much.” He started as you nodded, returning him that same comforting hug.

“Are you recording?” He asked as you nodded, “yeah, I hope you don't mind.”

“No, of course not.”

He grabbed the phone and showed himself on the screen, waving at the soon to be audience while smiling brightly

“Hello! I'm smiling but you won't be able to see that.” He teased the camera, placing the phone in the middle of the car indent

“True.” You added, laughing in the process. “They're so curious, but unfortunately we can't reveal yet. Maybe in a couple more years we will.” You smiled as he nodded.

“Definitely.”

He started driving out of the lot and into the driveway, passing places as you both chatted about random things. Whenever he stopped at red lights, you always leaned in to kiss his cheek and he occasionally teased you by turning his head the moment you did so.

It made you shy, but you just continued doing so.

You had always had the reputation of being the lovey dovey couple, it honestly somewhat shocked you that your viewers still hadn't caught on to who the mysterious man was, especially when it was that obvious, so recognizable.

But you weren't complaining, it was a good thing if not.

Holding hands, you both walked through the aisles of the mall, before he stopped and left in another direction. You were looking at some mangas and showing your camera the books you found yourself interested in.

“This one looks interesting.” You pointed at a specific manga within the row of books before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned around and found your boyfriend there, you stared at him confused until he revealed his hands from behind his back.

“I don't know if you have it already…” he shyly stated as he revealed a Kuromi which you had been dying to get your hands on.

“No freakin way - they have it here!??” your eyes sparked with light as you took to figure from his hands.

“Yes!” He immediately responded, making you run over to the direction you saw him going, really just guessing the direction but either way it had worked because you found it.

“I'm buying it…” you started before he shook his head and planted a kiss on your hair.

“No need, I already put anything you want on my card don't worry.” He smiled as your eyes watered.

“Damn you… making me shed tears publicly..”

[mcflymemes]

DRAGON AGE: THE VEILGUARD PROMPTS PT 2 *  assorted dialogue from the second hour of the video game

that suit of armor is moving.

where'd you come from?

i've only been gone three days!

the situation's changed - for the worse, unfortunately.

i've had a couple of days, and i'm still trying to wrap my head around it.

it does sort of explain a few things though.

there's something kind of exciting about it. and dangerous. really dangerous.

hope that means you've got an idea.

a few dozen demons shouldn't be a problem.

do you know what this place was?

it's probably something important.

well, isn't this a sight?

the artifact we're looking for must be inside.

think we can make that jump?

i plan to find out.

we're getting closer.

it's a lot trickier than that.

i've never seen this before.

it's almost like it's... breathing.

wasn't expecting to fight an ogre today.

just one of those days.

what does that crystal do?

i have questions.

it's kind of my thing. fixing magical stuff.

let me know when you're ready to head to the camp.

some of our most experienced fighters are still missing.

whatever's going on out there, it's scary.

sounds like things have gotten a lot worse since we left.

it's only a matter of time until our luck runs out.

if we could predict where they'd strike next, we might get ahead of them.

i don't know what you're going to find there. likely nothing good.

you sure you're up for this?

i've never seen fog this thick.

something happened here.

stay sharp.

it's so quiet.

where is everybody?

everything's just abandoned.

keep them inside.

everyone has to stay.

we need to search for survivors.

ever seen anything like it?

we're going to help you! we'll get you down!

i know you.

they made me do it.

i was tricked! manipulated!

i never meant for that! i swear! you must believe me!

what if the dragon comes back?

let's get him out of there.

we don't kill people. not like this.

try harder next time.

don't let me regret saving you.

what a pleasure to see you again.

so who are you exactly?

this dark turn of events shall only become worse.

what can you tell us about... all this?

how do we stop them?

how do we stand up against that?

none of us can do this alone, but we can stop them together.

these are the times in which legends are born... or slain.

i should've taken the shot.

we all did what we thought was best in the moment.

look where it got us.

we're still standing. the fight's not over.

i like that about you. you don't stop fighting. you push for answers and action.

we need someone who can put the pieces of the puzzle together.

we're fighting the unknown.

everyone has a part to play.

i think i can manage that.

i can feel lingering magic. powerful magic.

i can hear it.

i don't know how to control it!

you said something "took you over?"

i'm sorry. i wish i had answers.

talking has helped.

i guess we don't have any real answers.

we're friends, so i'm going to be honest.

it feels wrong.

i trust you have all this handled.

at least people are free because of what i did.

it must have been worse than i had thought.

so... you're going to be insufferable about it.

see, this is the reason nobody likes you.

[notmorbid]

we could be rats.

dialogue prompts from we could be rats by emily r. austin.

that's the most insensitive thing you could have said.

i never say the right thing.

i wasn't the type of kid who wanted to be a teenager.

there were times i thought i hated you.

maybe if we'd met as adults, things would have been different.

i was the kind of kid who believed toys had hearts and souls.

nothing is ever purely good, is it? there's always a rotten piece.

i'm not depressed. i feel great.

i'm not the same person you knew.

did you feel like you knew me, the last couple of years?

i don't think i've ever been described as 'smart' before.

would it help to hear a joke?

why didn't the skeleton go to the party? because they had no body to go with.

am i getting too morbid?

i have you listed as my next of kin.

do you think i'm being insensitive and gruesome?

just bury me in a garbage bag.

i never really honed being well-mannered, did i?

i think i've accidentally made up white lies that were ruder than the truth.

creeps like us have to stay alive.

we haven't put a label on it.

i think your definition of 'creep' might be different than mine.

say i was abducted by aliens, or something.

are you mad at me? it's okay, if you are.

is my tone making you madder? i bet it is.

i don't plan to haunt you.

____ is like a comic book villain. like a caricature of a bad guy.

listen to people who have different experiences than you do.

you're being an asshole.

we're supposed to examine what's wrong, or it festers.

i used to think i could do anything.

what happened? are you hurt?

do i look normal to you?

the actual experience is never quite what's promised, is it?

it feels like i'm not the target audience for a lot of life.

tell people to fuck off more. take what you want. stir shit up.

everybody knows you.

i feel like i'm still a kid here.

i always cared about you.

everything will be fine. we'll find our way.

it didn't occur to me that not panicking was an option.

i feel sort of reborn.

it's hard to balance being both happy and considerate.

it's kinder to lie sometimes, right?

i'd rather be a pig than a cop. pigs are adorable.

being grown up feels like playing a board game with no instructions.

masks meld onto your face.

let's egg their car.

remember swinging, when you were a kid?

'to thine own self be true', or whatever.

people judge others by their own standards.

i don't remember how i got here.

i feel like i was cast as a character i'm not able to play.

i wouldn't want to live forever. would you?

i'm not sure there's a way to be alive without upsetting people.

inaction is an action.

dying is less scary than growing up.

is this actually happening? am i dreaming?

the trick to lying is to convince yourself.

i don't want you to feel sorry for me.

i feel like i don't know the things i'm supposed to. i feel like i'm pretending.

revolution is about creation, not destruction.

sometimes it's kinder to let people believe they're helping you, even when they're not.

i'd like to see where you grew up.

it sounds like a lot of people want to help you.

do you have people who want to help you?

did you egg my house?

there's no way the moon is a dude. she's got a soulful face. she's gorgeous.

we don't actually get much choice in life, do we?

i think i'm gay.

thinking about _____ sort of knocks the wind out of me.

if i hadn't met you, i'd be a totally different person.

i know i'm unbearable, but what else can i be?

i have a history of bad judgment.

what the hell did you just call me?

i'm not interested in small talk with people who offend or insult me.

i used to believe everyone was good.

i thought everyone felt that way.

did you hear it was on the news?

deep down, we're all who we were when we were kids.

being an adult is about re-finding who you were when you were eight years old.

i don't want to be someone who hurts people. i don't think i was meant to be that.

have you been outside today?

[robinminustherichard]

Ok for a writing prompt for Bucktommy: Maddie and Tommy having a conversation

Ooh hoo hoo. Will do.

"Hey, Tommy! Good to see you, come on in." Maddie says as she answers the door, stepping aside to allow Tommy to walk past her.

"Hey, Maddie, thanks! I appreciate you making time to see me."

"Oh, no worries at all. Jee and Danny are over at the Lee's today and you know Chim is on shift with Buck for another half hour, of course, so I've just been hanging out and enjoying a quiet day off."

"Nice!" Tommy tells her, overly enthusiastic in a way he rarely is. He wipes his hands on his jeans then reaches out towards the living room. "Did you want to sit?"

"Yeah! I made us some tea, let me grab it. Go ahead and have a seat."

Tommy heads off to follow her instructions and Maddie dips into the kitchen to grab the waiting cups. She pauses just before she picks them up and breathes out fully. She sets her shoulders, gets a smile on her face, and then takes the tea to the living room.

When she gets there, Tommy is looking around at the toys scattered across the floor, looking nervous and rigid in his posture.

"So," Maddie says, setting the tea down on the coffee table and then turning to face Tommy, "What did you want to talk about?"

Tommy took the tea immediately, humming to acknowledge her question while he swallows. He keeps the cup in his hands and looks at it when he speaks.

"It's, well," Tommy looks up and to the side, twisting his mouth, "Evan and I are going to fly to Vegas, next weekend--"

"Right!" Maddie says, grinning, "to celebrate your third anniversary. That's great!"

"Right," Tommy says, taking a deep breath, "and I plan to propose."

Maddie gasps a little, clutching her hand to her heart.

"Oh! Tommy, that's wonderful." She says, reaching out to pat Tommy's arm where it rests across his leg. "He's going to be so excited."

"Yeah," Tommy says, a smile breaking through in the way it always does when he's talking about Buck. "I, uh, yeah. I know. I think he's going to be really excited. I just need to know if you are--and if you aren't, what that means for us moving forward. Because I love your brother with my entire heart and I know he loves me, but I know it's already weighing on him that you and I aren't exactly best friends."

Maddie is stunned for a moment, pausing from where she had started to reach out for her own tea. This may be the most Tommy has ever said to her directly when they aren't at work.

"Oh," Maddie says, laughing a bit and grabbing the tea. She takes a drink and shakes her head. "No, it's okay. Buck's always been like that, he wants everyone to be the best of friends and family all of the time. I think it's a bit of a holdover from our parents being, you know, our parents. But he'll be fine, I promise--and we can definitely hang out more, since we'll be in-laws after all!"

Tommy nods, but his facial expression is still guarded.

"Right," he says, the word drawn out, "that's, um, great! Awesome. I guess Evan was interpreting things wrong after all. That's great, thanks Maddie."

"Wait," Maddie says, eyebrows pinching together in confusion as she looks at Tommy, "what do you mean? What did Buck say?"

"Oh, nothing, you know how Evan reads into things sometimes..." Tommy says, letting the sentence fade off and going in for a long gulp of tea. "It's nothing, really."

"No, no--Tommy, does Buck think I wouldn't be excited for him to get married?" Maddie sets her tea down and tilts her head, suddenly trying to remember all of the interactions she has had with her younger brother lately.

"No!" Tommy says in a rush, "no, he maybe just, uh, implied that you may not be super excited about him being in a committed relationship with...me."

"He thinks I don't want him with a man? What the heck?" Maddie says, shocked, "why would I have a problem with that? Does he think I'm homopho--"

"No, of course not!" Tommy cuts her off, setting his tea down on the coffee table and then reaching up to run a hand across his face. "No, sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I didn't mean it like that, Evan definitely doesn't think you're homophobic."

Maddie splutters in confusion, managing to question "Well then, what does he think?"

"Maddie," Tommy says with a sigh and eyes looking up at the cieling, "Evan thinks you don't like me. That you don't want me to be with him."

Maddie let's out a soft "oh" and let's her top half fall back onto the couch from where she had subconsciously sat up straighter in indignation.

"Sorry." Tommy says with a wince.

"What?" Maddie says, shaking her head, "no, that's not--Tommy, I think you're--I don't know why--," she doesn't know why she's suddenly nervous and trying desperately to change Tommy's mind.

He sighs, and looks back at her.

"It, uh. It really bothers him to be honest with you. Which is why I wanted to come here and talk with you. I wanted to know if I could somehow prove myself or, or, convince you otherwise."

Maddie realizes her mouth has been open in shock and shuts it before shaking her head again.

"No," she says, more firmly this time, "Tommy, I think you're great! I don't...I don't know why Buck thinks that." She's agian analyzing all the times she and Buck had talked about Tommy. She thinks, and she remembers...and she freezes.

She groans.

"Oh god," She says, copying Tommy's actions from earlier and setting her tea down in order to smack her hands against her face. "I've been so unfair to you."

"No--" Tommy starts, reaching out to pat her knee gently, but Maddie just groans again.

"Every time he's talked to me about you I've actively turned it into him needing to defend you."

"Oh," Tommy says, a little dejected.

"I have," Maddie says, "I really have. God, no wonder he thinks I hate you."

"Well, I don't know if he thinks you hate--"

"No, no, I know my brother. He thinks I hate you."

"Yeah," Tommy admits, caught out, "he thinks you hate literally everything about me."

"Damn," Maddie curses, finally lifting her hands from her face, "I'm so sorry Tommy. I promise I don't hate you. I hate...me."

Tommy pauses, looking confused. "Hey, no need for that, Evan is so forgiving. He won't be upset with you."

"No, it's not that I hate myself for this--although, I'm not exactly proud of myself for it--I hate what I've done to Buck. What I did to Evan."

Tommy still looks confused and like he doesn't know what to say. Maddie turns fully, throwing one elbow over the back of the couch and sighing.

"You know when you feel trapped, or like you aren't good enough, or something big happens and you just don't know how to deal with it all so you just...run away instead?"

Tommy nods, unsure but listening.

"That's what I do. Or, what I did. I did it to Evan when he was a kid...I did it to Buck and Howie and Jee when I was struggling as a new mom..."

She trails off, thinking of how she's going to say this next part.

"And I hate that part of myself, you know? And, well, I hate that part of you, Tommy. Because unfortunately I saw you do the same thing to him."

Tommy blows a breath put of pursed lips, nodding grimly as the accusation settles over him. He looks ready to respond, but Maddie continues.

"Its unfair that I've grilled him so hard on you, but I think I've just been subconsciously afraid that he's letting another...me into his life. Someone who is going to leave him when things get hard. He's always the one--"

"--who gets left behind," Tommy finishes quietly. He contiunes, "yeah. He told me about that."

They sit in silence and seconds tick by, absorbing their words and the hurts they've caused.

"That's fair," Tommy says, the first to break the quiet, "I can...understand that."

"God, I'm so sorry, Tommy. I really do mean it when I say that I never meant for anyone to think that I hated you. I've seen the joy you bring him, and the way you support and love him. There's no doubt in my mind that you care about him."

"I do," Tommy says in a whisper, "I love him so much. I have run from him, that's true. But I need you to know that I will never do that again, Maddie. Evan means everything to me."

Maddie feels tears pricking at her eyes from the emotion in Tommy's voice.

"I know," she says, nodding, "I know you do. And I know that he's going to say yes when you ask him to marry you." She reaches across the couch and grabs Tommy's hands, clutching at them and blinking, "and I need you to know that you have my support, Tommy. I promise. No more interrogating Buck and making him think I hate you."

Tommy's eyes too are suddenly wet, and he chuckles a little, sounding relived when he speaks. "Okay, thank you Maddie. You have no idea what it means to hear that."

Maddie nods, and a tear escapes down her cheek. She quickly lets go of Tommy to reach up and brush it away.

"You've got to promise me something though, okay? And I'll promise too."

"Anything." Tommy says solemnly, his tone betrayed by the way a tear escapes his eye too.

"You don't leave Evan behind, and I won't either, okay? Runner to runner; if things get bad we talk to each other. To someone who understands."

"Yes," Tommy breathes, slumping forward like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, "yes, of course, Maddie. Yes."

Maddie reaches up again to scrub her palm across her cheeks and she can't help but giggle.

"Okay. Okay, Tommy, I think we're good."

Maddie sways forward, arms coming up to wrap around Tommy's shoulders. It's awkward with their knees bumping but Tommy's long arms wrapped around her back anyway.

Suddenly they're both laughing, giggling really, clutching to each other and crying all the while. It's loud and a little gross, and Maddie will say that that is why they don't hear the door open.

"What the--" Buck's voice calls from the entrance to the living room, the sound of Chim's footsteps behind him.

Tommy and Maddie break apart, but they're still laughing and wiping at their eyes.

"Whoa, Buck," Chim says, crossing his arms, "what did your boyfriend do to my wife?"

Buck splutters and gestures towards them with the pizza boxes in his hands, "what did your wife do to my boyfriend?"

Chim shrugs, reaching out to grab the pizzas before marching off towards the kitchen, calling out as he goes, "I don't know, she's your sister!"

"That's--Chim! Wait, don't leave me alone with them like this!" Buck calls, hurrying after him but throwing a concerned look at the two still on the couch as he goes.

"Come on," Maddie says, standing up and reaching a hand out to Tommy, "if we don't go in there and reassure him Buck will start spiraling--"

"--and Howie will smack him to get him to stop." Tommy says with a sigh, grabbing Maddie's hand and throwing himself to his feet.

As they go to head into the kitchen, a loud thump and an indignant "ow!" can be heard. Maddie and Tommy sigh in unison.

"Too late."

[beannoss]

with you, all in tangles (1)

3 times Yor blows kisses to Twilight and one time Twilight blows a kiss to Yor

For the @twiyorbase fluff fest! No content warnings, T-rating; manga spoilers. One chapter per day matching the daily prompts. Today's prompt: Blush. Title borrowed from Cut to the Feeling by Carly Rae Jepsen 💕 Now also on AO3! Part 2 (2) ->

It was their third mission together. Something easy, the Shopkeeper had said. For you. We'll see how your Twilight performs.

And Yor was… Yor was seeing.

Their first two missions has been in his world. Tonight's was in hers. Loid-Twilight was backup for her, for Thorn Princess.

He was performing very, very well.

She had always known he was kind and competent and handsome, of course. She'd known that she sort of, kind of, maybe a little bit had something of a crush on him. It's just that it hadn't mattered and hadn't meant anything because everything they were doing was false and anyway, there was nothing about Yor which might draw the attention of Dr Loid Forger in that way. And even if somehow there was, Yor didn't... she didn't like that she had so many lies between him and herself. She struggled enough with that as they were; it made her dizzy, imagining what those lies might do if, if they became — if they became more than —

Then that horrible night happened. Yor learned about Twilight. Twilight learned about Yor. And they both learned about Anya —

Days and days passed with lots of conversation and lots of discussing and lots of disagreeing quietly while pretending in front of Anya that everything was all right (unsuccessfully, because telepath) and being very honest in front of Anya that she had nothing to worry about (successfully, because it was true and also because telepath).

Then WISE contacted Garden and Garden agreed to meet with them, and the conversations became negotiations which included Loid's Handler and her Shopkeeper, and now they were here and doing missions together.

And Yor was being forcibly reminded that she'd never really stopped fancying Loid. Twilight. It had only become more confusing. And it was getting more confusing by the second, because he was incredibly talented. Of course she'd already known that but she hadn't know he was talented like this. And she'd never really thought about men's bodies before except for how to incapacitate or kill them or how to defend against their attacks, but she was thinking about Loid's body now, and how he moved and how he worked and how his hands were very clever and his shoulders a very nice shape and he had excellent foot work and precise muscle control and his waist —

"Thorn Princess?"

Yor bit her lip as her cheeks heated, something fluttery in her chest, in her stomach, and flicked her eyes back to his face. "Mhm?"

Twilight’s expression was mild but she knew that particular light in his eyes: he was frustrated. "I'm not sure how we'll get through,” he said. “WISE's intel must have been outdated; there are more of them than we expected."

"Oh." Yor looked around. They were on some sort of ledge, surrounded by bodies, most she had evidently taken down. She reviewed the assignment. If she wasn't mistaken, the primary client was actually immediately below them, and there ought to be a promenade under the ledge she could use to access his suite. She was confident she could deal with whatever security were physically in with the client, so… "Can you distract these people?"

"Of course," Twilight said. And he often looked unfazed and assured, but how had Yor never noticed how appealing that was before? Something stirred, fluttered, again in her belly. He went on, "But we still need to get two storeys down."

"Is it two floors? I thought his suite was directly below us."

Twilight inclined his head. "The suite has a high ceiling."

"Oh, that's no trouble. If you don't mind distracting these people, I'll finish the assignment."

After a beat where Twilight held her gaze, he asked, "You don't need backup down there?"

"No, but thank you!" Yor said cheerfully. She rolled to the edge of the ledge, and, protected behind a very ugly statue, she stood. There was no railing around the ledge which seemed like a safety risk — what if children ever came up here?! — but was useful for her needs. She stepped back, until her heels were right at the edge. "Don't worry about that!"

"I — if you're sure." He didn't sound doubtful, though Yor couldn't blame him for some hesitation. This wasn't the plan after all and she had long since learned that Loid liked plans! He didn't tend to mind them changing but she suspected he preferred it when he was the one changing them. Still, he was reloading his guns, and then pulling something from his backpack. He looked up at her from his crouch. "Thorn Princess. Yor. Are you sure you don't want backup?"

Butterflies took flight, fluttering sweetly in her in her belly, filling her chest. The way he asked it… As though... as though he cared. About her, about her answer, about what she needed to do her job. She beamed at him, and Twilight looked stunned for just a breath, pink appearing high on his cheeks, and —

And Yor blamed what happened next on the butterflies.

"You don't have to worry about me!" she called. Then she winked, blew him a kiss, and stepped backward off the ledge.

For the whole second it took to drop, her cheeks burning hot enough to heat all of Ostania, her mind was filled with a shriek, What was that?!

Then she landed, and gun shots sounded overhead, and Yor stood. She twirled her stilettos as the guards inside caught sight of her. The work began.

Part 2 (2) ->

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 141 (Safe and Sound?)

Ash's family, friends, and pets rejoiced over his safe return to a brisk Brindleton Bay - where it still would not stop snowing. Gord followed Ash like a guard. Hazel, who'd been watching Lavender with Heather and Conrad in Sulani, warmly embraced her nephew when he raced to greet her. "Ashy, I'm so glad you're safe."

"Me too, Auntie Hazel. But we totally outsmarted the time travelers! And Felix Psyded and the Grim Reaper helped, too!"

Hazel nodded and pushed out a smile. Heather had told her everything by text from the flight home, and she was still trying to wrap her mind around the whole thing - just like Heather and Conrad. Time travel was one thing, but murderous hitmen and vengeful exes were another thing altogether. Ash seemed the least disturbed by the strange reality he found himself in, which was at least something the adults could take comfort in.

Lavender was unaware her brother had been kidnapped, least of all by time travellers, instead thinking he'd stayed an extra night in San Myshuno with his other family, but she was happy to see him again nonetheless. "Ashy want to read with me?" she asked, sitting next to him on the living room sofa.

"Sure, Lava," he said, and she handed him their worn copy of The Giving Tree. As he read, his voice trailed off, and suddenly he looked up with a smile. "I just got an idea!"

"Like the icy chippy?"

"No, this one will work. All we have to do is tell Mom and Conrad we want them to finally get married."

Lavender looked at him wide eyed as she shook her head. "Mommy said no snow."

"I know, but Mom really missed me while I was gone so she'll say yes. Especially if we tell her we'll plan it and promise there won't be snow."

Lavender cocked her head slightly. "How we gunna plan a wedding?"

"Auntie Hazel will help us, I bet. And Uncle River, too!"

"I want wedding cupcakes!"

"No cake? Just cupcakes?"

Heather smiled as she listened to them from the computer, where she answered an email from Marisol Quesada, the artist in Ciudad Enamorada who she'd commissioned to work on her video game's concept design.

She would agree to her children's plan when they presented it to her; with another baby on the way, it was well past time for her to make things official with Conrad, and now she was up against fitting into a wedding dress with a baby bump. The sooner, the better, if there was no snow. But for now, as her life returned to normal, she refocused on Marisol.

(Thank you @igglemouse for inspiring another crossover with your incredible storytelling. I love your words as much as we love Marisol's artwork!)

The artist's emails were professional, her work was incredible and they had a similar vision. She hoped Marisol wouldn't be upset that her latest response to their collaboration was a few days late; Marisol was always prompt with her replies. Heather wasn't sure how to say she'd had to focus on her kidnapped son instead of the latest proofs, so she made up an excuse about pregnancy fatigue - which wasn't entirely a lie, anyway.

While Heather focused on designing Furever Friends: Stray Valley and her clinic, Conrad was dealing with Ximena and Rafa's cases - what had once been slow investigations taking years off his life were now meetings with judges and lawyers and filing evidence for discovery. But he still found time to help Hazel and River plan his wedding to Heather.

River came to Brindleton Bay for a vet appointment with Duchess and suit fitting with Ash and Conrad, and as her morning sickness finally subsided, Heather was more than happy to focus on her work.

Her regulars were excited for the new clinic, and she was excited to give pets and their owners an even better place to heal when feeling sick. But for now, the old clinic that helped make her the vet she was today still felt like a home away from home.

(Heather would never think of asking her recycle disciple brother not to hug his bag of trash while in her clinic. He loves it too much!)

A few nights before the wedding, Ash was wearing his wedding suit around the house in anticipation, and once his homework was done and he'd helped Lavender stack blocks, he sat down to watch his father on Simlandia National's 6 o'clock news. But even Conrad was intrigued enough to sit and watch when he realized what they were talking about.

"We bring reports this evening of a turquoise-haired man named Emit Relevart, who told several sims in Willow Creek Park he's a time traveler from the future asking for help with his latest mission. Police in Willow Creek say the man is harmless but annoying, and he's unwilling to leave the park until he's found a fellow time traveler and several stolen items he believes have been dropped through time. Sims are asked to beware of Emit Relevart when walking in or near Willow Creek Park, and officials advise against following him through any strange looking portals. Guard your safety, Simlandia."

Ash's eyes bulged. "More time travelers?"

"We don't know that for sure," Conrad said carefully. "Emit Relevart could be a hoax."

"But his name is time traveler backwards!"

"That could all be part of the hoax," Conrad assured him.

"I wonder if Emit knows Marco and Ximena in the future."

"After what happened in Sulani with Rafa, hopefully Ximena's still behind bars in the future, and Marco's gone. He was off the grid for years, but when he died in Sulani, we found a death record for him in San Myshuno."

"So if you time travel but then you die in the timeline where you already exist, your other self dies, too?" Ash considered the questionable and confusing science of time travel - still a bit much to grasp for a genius nine-year-old - but Conrad didn't know how to explain it any better, either.

"Are you worried more people who knew Ximena and Marco will try to find you again?" he wondered, and Ash nodded. "The Landgraabs increased security, and your mom and I will never let anyone hurt you. Same as always," he said.

Ash soon refocused on the wedding, which carried his excitement through the evening until Heather and Conrad tucked him into bed. He fell asleep with his blankets curled around his shoulders, bundled under heavy cotton sheets in the cool spring night of Brindleton Bay.

While he slumbered, Marco's ghost stood over him with a frown. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (2)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 3.3k

— 🍄 summary: you and yoongi tackle your first day of fieldwork, and this town and it's mysteries prove to be stranger than they first appeared.

— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader and botanist!yoongi being nerds, mentions of death/missing persons, scientific inaccuracies lol

— 🕸️ a/n: and the mystery continues!

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 2: but first, fieldwork

september 22, 2004

You've been having strange dreams. Normally, you don't remember most of your dreams, but these have been oddly vivid and long-lasting, like the lingering stench of a cigarette that sticks to your clothes.

In some, you're wandering through a forest, wading through a thick mist. No, not wandering, because it feels like you're searching for something, you just don't know what.

In others, you're submerged in murky green water. Tendrils of seagrass like twisting trees brush against your ankles. And there's a sound reverberating through the water, something like chittering and groaning at the same time.

When you wake up, the window above your bed is open, though you don't remember unlatching it last night. Just outside the glass is a canopy of green, bright and vigorous from the early dew.

You pull the window shut and dismiss the dreams completely from your mind, because you have things to do. Today is your first day of fieldwork with Yoongi, the botanist.

Yoongi is punctual, which you very much like. He arrives at the meeting spot three minutes early. Luckily, you were there ten minutes early.

"G'morning," he mumbles, his voice still raspy with sleep. His hair is ruffled and his eyes are slightly droopy. He's wearing dark jeans and a flannel, but appears comfortable in the frigid air.

"Morning, thanks for coming," you say, handing him the iced americano and glazed bun you just picked up from the coffee shop.

Cat's Den, it's called. The same barista from your previous visit was working, and he seemed just as cheerful.

"Thank you," Yoongi says with new life in his voice, gratefully sipping from his drink.

You inform him that your first stop will be the residence of Mrs. Bradley. You want him to see the strange fungus in person to get the most accurate identification.

The two of you pile into your Honda CRX. It's a beater car, with scratches on the exterior and ripped seats. You've had it ever since you were a teenager, but the engine has held up throughout the years.

When you ask Yoongi if he's heard of the death of Michael Bradley, he just scrunches his brows.

"I think it was in the paper once," he says. "Something about household cleaners and chemicals. The mayor kept it buttoned up, apparently."

Again, the mention of the mayor. She kept the case under wraps, but clearly she trusts Yoongi to know about it since she recommended him to you.

"Hmm, well Mrs. Bradley won't submit to questioning so far," you say, rattling with the car as it traverses over a ridge in the dirt road.

"So far?" Yoongi prompts, and you can hear the slight amusement in his tone.

The corner of your mouth tugs up in a barely concealed smirk. "I can be very persistent," you add.

You stop the car a block away from their house. Yoongi follows you dutifully when you exit wordlessly and make you way onto their lawn. The ring of mushrooms is still there. In fact, it appears to have gotten wider.

You drop to one knee and begin taking pictures.

"Won't Mrs. Bradley get upset?" Yoongi asks, looking into the dark windows of the house.

"She leaves for work at five a.m." you reply. "We'll be finished long before she gets back."

He doesn't reply, because the mushrooms have snagged almost every ounce of his attention.

"Very peculiar," he mutters to himself.

"Can you identify them?" you ask, trying not to divulge how much you're waiting on his reply.

Yoongi pulls a retractable magnifying glass from his pocket and flips it open, dropping to the damp earth beside you.

"Infundibuliform cap shape," he says, more to himself than to you. But from what you've gathered from the book, it means a "deeply depressed" cap shape. In this case, it makes the cap look like a set of tendrils. Reaching out.

Yoongi takes out a pair of tweezers and turns the mushroom this way and that, examining it.

Something catches your eye.

"Pores and gills?" you say. Typically mushrooms have one or the other, but this one has a membrane covered in small holes as well as an underside full of thin openings.

"False gills, ridges," Yoongi supplements, deep in concentration. "Gills can be detached, but ridges are built into the structure."

"Is that common among mushrooms?" you ask.

"Hmm, not entirely sure. Not a mycologist," he replies, snipping off one of the mushrooms and dropping it into a specimen bag.

A part of you lights up inside. It looks like he's going to help you with this whole thing, judging by his interest in the strange fungi.

You're greatly appreciative, because reading that book on mushrooms was not exactly the most effortless research endeavor. It was plenty interesting, but still chock full of scientific terminology that you aren't familiar with.

"I have a friend back at the university who can take a closer look at this," Yoongi says, rising to a stand.

A flutter in your stomach. This is coming along nicely. The more professional opinions you can get, the better.

"Take a look at this," you say, leading him to the rotted tree trunk.

You watch as his delicate features twist, perplexed. He really is very pretty, but you shouldn't be thinking such things.

"Is this common among trees?" you ask a little hesitantly. It's such a shame to break his concentration when he looks like that.

"Not that I know of," he mutters, taking a tentative step closer.

You did a bit of research on tree rot, but nothing you saw looked quite like this. Wood, even rotted wood, has a splintered appearance. This wood looks almost wet, maybe even flesh-like. It looks, and smells, like an infected wound.

You take plenty of pictures.

"Can I get a copy of those?" Yoongi asks, looking at you with wide, eager eyes. A cat that's caught sight of a treat.

"Yes, of course," you reply with only the slightest bit of difficulty.

"Thank you." He flashes you a gummy smile. Fuck.

"Okay," you blurt out suddenly, pretending to check your watch. "Let's get moving."

Your next location is the sight of Jarvis Laplan's death.

The forest, you've learned thanks to Yoongi's kind direction, has been unofficially divided into sections by the surrounding civilians. There's the "North Star" area, mostly made up of sparse trees and grasses. This is where most of the residential homes are backdropped against, including Bradley's.

Then "Gunman's," an area southwest of North Star. Aptly named, this is the designated hunting grounds, clearly labeled and fenced. A few residences outline Gunman's, including Laplan's. But Laplan wasn't found in Gunman's, he was found in Ulthar's Grove.

"Ulthar's Grove," south of Gunman's and absolutely NOT a hunting area. Apparently, local stray cats and other rodents flock to this area, roaming about freely and building nests in hollow tree stumps. Children and teenagers can sometimes be found playing in this area, because of the several residences tucked into its borders and the relative safety compared to other areas of the forest.

Then, at the center of it all, Lurking Lake. Aptly named, it is not well-inhabited and generally avoided by locals. A naturally formed lake, it is infested with algae, an invasive species of eel-like fish, and characterized by a distinctive musky smell.

You and Yoongi enter into Ulthar's Grove, weaving through gnarled trees and mossy stones.

As if he can't help it, Yoongi points out the names of the local flora as you pass them. The scientific names and the common names, seemingly for your benefit. It's quite amusing, watching his face light up when he recognizes a familiar species.

And you learn a lot, taking as many notes as you can on the local wildlife while navigating the path.

You don't notice, but Yoongi is sneaking glances at you while you scribble feverishly.

"Are my ramblings really that interesting?" he prods playfully.

Your attention is jerked from the page. You glance at him over your shoulder, feeling a burn in your cheeks.

"I try to remember everything I learn," you say, and your voice betrays none of the slight embarrassment you feel at being observed in your "natural habitat." Because you've always been very intent, maybe even obsessed, with collecting knowledge. You suppose that's one of the things that makes you good at your job.

As if he can sense your thoughts, Yoongi says, "So, you're a journalist?"

You never told him exactly what your occupation was, only that the mayor sent you. You hesitate for a moment. For some reason, you have no desire to lie to him.

"Private investigator," you reply.

He hums in acknowledgement. He doesn't ask who you were hired by, but the subtext is clear enough. The mayor recommended him to you for a reason, after all.

The two of you arrive at the site. No longer is it wrapped in police tape, but the same eerie air of caution still lingers.

Aged thirty-five, he was found in the woods. More specifically, in a little clearing among the closely-knit trees, in the center of a ring of dead grass.

Apparently, Laplan was dissatisfied with the control of local wildlife, and took it upon himself to do a bit of "population control." He was found in hunting gear with a .35 Remington, without a single shot fired.

Yoongi says that very little information was in the papers, similar to Bradley. Just a warning to civilians regarding a recent animal attack.

"He wasn't attacked, he was mauled," you can't help but say as you examine the site. The mayor gave you snippets of the police reports, but you still have yet to get your hands on the coroner's report.

"By what?" Yoongi asks, a strange hesitation in his voice.

You look at him.

"Not sure" you reply, turning your attention to the surroundings at hand.

Laplan was found here, among this break in the trees. The ring of dead grass remains, and half of you expects to see a pool of blood in the center of it. But there is nothing but brittle vegetation.

"What kind of animal?" Yoongi asks as he circles around the perimeter.

"A mountain lion, presumably." But for some reason, a reason that you can't name, you doubt it.

A wave of uneasiness ripples through you.

"Let's fan out a bit, try to see if any of the trees around here have the same rot," you call out, eager for a distraction.

The two of you explore the area for a while, noting irregularities in the plant life. Evidently, thanks to Yoongi's commentary, you discover that the surrounding plants appear to be dehydrated, despite the abundant rain. Neither of you find any of the strange mushrooms in this part of the woods.

Yoongi checks his watch at noon on the dot.

"We should get moving. You said there's one more site you wanted to visit, right?"

He's right, the site of Sharon Mason, the final and most recently deceased. You remember now that Yoongi said he had to leave at two p.m., though he didn't mention why.

Lurking Lake, and the surrounding woods which apparently don't have a name, according to Yoongi. They are simply known as "the woods surrounding Lurking Lake."

And you must say, the name lives up to its potential. First of all, it's bigger than you thought it would be. It has a presence, the beating heart of the forest.

Under the gray sky, the water is dark green with a peculiar, abysmal deepness. The perimeter of the lake is outlined by wild grass and moss-robed stones, and the outer edges of the water have a film of algae.

Fog hangs over the landscape like a misty curtain, swirling along the ground.

"She was found by the lake, right?" Yoongi asks, examining some sort of cattail grass by the lakeshore.

"In the lake," you correct, bending over to look closer at the pebbled shore.

"Barely anything in the papers again," Yoongi says before you get the chance to ask. "Mainly because they don't know all that much."

"Hmm," you reply, staring at some sort of microscopic, squirming plankton in the shallow lake water.

Sharon Mason, aged seventeen. Found floating in the lake. Homicide ruled out, apparently.

The third death in under three months, and it certainly left a mark on the community, especially since she was only a teenager. You wonder if this was the catalyst that drove the mayor to hire a private investigator.

"Has the college noticed anything unusual about the lake? In the ecosystem, I mean," you ask.

"Not that I know of," Yoongi immediately responds. A little too quickly.

You straighten up and watch as he paces around the edge of the water, hands in his pockets.

"Nothing?" you ask again, a little more pointed this time. Because you hardly believe that nothing has surfaced at the university. Why else would the mayor include investigative services in "ecological disturbances" in her job description?

"No, ma'am," Yoongi replies, and the politeness in his voice is incriminating.

You'll have to look into it.

"Well, I won't know the finer details until I get the coroner's report," you say.

Yoongi looks up at you.

"The coroner?" he asks, curiosity and something else in his tone.

"Yes, I'll need to speak to him eventually. Do you happen to know where his office is? I've been having trouble getting him on the phone," you say.

You're watching closely for his reply, and you see his eyes flicker to something in the distance.

Following his gaze, you see it. The massive house on the hill, dark and towering over the valley. Through the mist, it looks like an abandoned Victorian mansion.

"The Addams House," Yoongi says from behind you.

"Addams? Is that who lives there?" you ask with your eyes still fixed on the house, like a beacon that you can't look away from.

"Used to, they're long gone now," Yoongi replies. "The new owner rents it out now,"

"And who would that be?" you press.

Yoongi just shrugs.

"The only people who know for sure are the tenants themselves. Apparently, he's a bit of a recluse."

Hmm, interesting.

"And...that's where the coroner's office is?" you ask, a little incredulous.

He nods a little hesitantly.

"Mm hmm, it's in the basement."

"Ah, of course it is," you can't help but reply, and it makes Yoongi smile a bit.

There's a pause as the two of you poke around.

"So, what exactly are you looking for?" Yoongi asks.

That makes you stop and think for a moment, because you're not entirely sure what it is you're looking for here. At Bradley's place, it was the mushrooms. Laplan's place of death, any indication of unusual wildlife or animal activity. Here at the lake, you don't even have a cause of death.

"I'm not entirely sure," you admit, again not finding it in you to lie to him. "I'll have a much better idea when I get the coroner's report."

Something you said seems to remind him, prompting him to check his watch.

"I have to go now," he says, quickly gathering his things.

"Alright, I'll give you a ride back," you offer. Not that you would ever admit it, but you're not quite ready to part from him yet.

"No, no, that's alright," he blurts out, already making his way towards the outline of trees. "It's a short walk," he insists.

"From here?" you question, but by the time you turn around, all you can see is his dark hair and slight frame darting expertly between the trees.

Your shoulders deflate as you let the rest of your sentence die with a puff of breath. A strange man, no doubt. But then again, that's how you like them.

Later that day, you venture to the coffee shop to do some more research, but the establishment is closed. The man mentioned something about only being closed on Wednesday afternoons.

The bookstore on the other side of the alley is closed too, none of the warm light from last time leaking from the front window.

You use your entire living room floor as your cork board and red thread, scattering open books and papers like a difficult-to-navigate parchment sea.

And you sail that sea until three a.m.

Five missing. The first is Alissa Ward, aged thirty-two, last seen at a grocery store at 5:32 p.m. She returned home at 5:47, according to her home security system, and then randomly left through the back door at 2:42 a.m. She lived alone, and it took a while for authorities to report her missing.

Then, Brynn Synder, aged twenty-nine, last seen at her boyfriend's place the night before her disappearance. Apparently, she had a habit of running through the woods in the early morning, and she was reported missing when she failed to show up at brunch with friends the next morning.

The police searched the woods. They found nothing.

You fall asleep on the couch as you're nearing the end of her file, dreaming of feet pounding on dirt.

september 23, 2004.

The coroner proves to be even more elusive than you thought. He appears to be averse to his faxing machine, and downright allergic to his telephone.

By midmorning, you're trudging up through the damp earth to the house on the hill. The closer you get, the more massive it appears. Ancient brickwork, towers and iron spires, neatly clipped hedges flush to the sides of house, and crowned by spindly trees overhead.

There's a tall iron gate encompassing the entire property, spiraling with twisting designs. You try it, but it appears to be sealed even though you don't see a lock of any kind.

You still rattle it a few times for good measure, causing the metal to creak and screech as if it were alive, and very displeased at the rough treatment.

A moment later, a figure emerges from the fog. A man, it looks like, wearing a large coat. As he approaches, you notice the floppy black hair hanging in front of his face.

"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you," you call out when he's close enough to hear you. Really, you're not sorry, since you've been trying to get a hold of the coroner for several days now, with not so much as a return message.

The man is young, with a strong jaw and handsome features. But his skin, it's somehow completely colorless. You can't quite explain it, but it looks like ice, translucent yet cloudy at the same time. And what's weirder is the way your eyes can't quite stay focused on it. It makes your head throb if you stare at the same place for too long.

"I need to speak to the coroner," you say, putting authority in your voice. If you want to get anywhere with this case, you'll need the causes of death.

"He...He isn't here right now," the man says, sounding a little nervous. Now that you're closer, you can see his bunny-like front teeth biting at his strangely colorless lips.

"When will he be back?" you reply.

The man's head is downturned, eyes flickering over the ground.

"I'm not sure. He's spread quite thin, you see," he says.

You raise an eyebrow, unsatisfied.

"W-Well there aren't many forensic pathologists in this area, so he has to service the next three towns. And he always takes Wednesdays off for personal reasons, so he hasn't been in yet and-"

"Alright, kid," you interrupt his rambling, since he only appears to be getting more nervous by the second.

"Just have him call me as soon as possible, okay?" You hand him a card with your information scratched onto it, and he reaches through the gate's bars to take it between his extremely cold fingers.

"Yes ma'am," he says obediently, scurrying back up the hill and disappearing behind a hedge wall.

Strange young man, you think. But, as you're starting to realize, that is the norm in this town.

"She saw through my glamour," Jungkook announces to the room. And everyone freezes, stealing little glances at each other.

"I told you, she's perceptive," Yoongi says from his place on the chaise lounge.

"Curious too, she came into the bookshop looking for something on strange fungi," Namjoon supplies.

"And spent the entire night in the cafe reading," Jin adds.

"She won't stop calling my office. I'm not sure what I'm going to tell her," Taehyung admits.

"She's just doing her job," Jimin counters.

"In any case," a stern voice interrupts, the only voice that hasn’t spoken so far.

“Keep an eye on her.”

a/n: thank you muchly for reading!! if you tell me your thoughts i might explode with joy

NEXT PART: 05/15/24 @8:00 a.m. PST

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part IV

Happy Halloween everyone!! I'm so happy I get to share this all with you today, I was really hoping to get out an update for Halloween 😂😂 I hope you all enjoy, I love reading everyone's comments, thank you so much!! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: None, a fluffy evening with III

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading, you're amazing and I love you so much ❤️❤️❤️

Part III - Part V

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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You stuck close to II's side as you made your way up to the front of the store. Who you assumed was IV peeked out behind III's shoulder, the taller man ushering him to the front. "He's very excited to meet you, he's just a bit nervous." II chuckles. "He has a tendency to get a bit worked up but I promise he's very nice." You step closer to him, a shy smile on your face. He bends down slightly, bringing his face a lot closer to yours as you lock eyes. His gaze was a lot softer than the others but still gave you that same warm feeling in your chest as he studied you.

"It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles, a cheerful tone in his voice. "You guys were right, she is really pretty." What followed IV's statement was a mix of throats being cleared, eyes being averted, and Vessel quickly trying to change the subject.

"I see the two of you got a lot done already, what else do you need help with?" You giggle at their flustered states.

"It's nice to meet you too, IV. Everything just needs to be put away, III's been a very big help." He straightens up proudly at your compliment. You sat on the counter, the four of them rotating to keep you company while the others worked.

"I told you, you just take it easy tonight. We'll handle it." Vessel chuckles as you complain for what must have been the millionth time about how you should be helping.

"Well if you all insist on doing this at least let me cook you dinner." You counter.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that." He smirks slightly before going to help the others. Noticing you were alone prompted IV to jog over.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" He asks sweetly. You move over, patting the spot next to you. He hops up with ease, even sitting down he still towered over you. "Your store's very organized." He comments, looking out to the other three as they worked, his heels bumping off the counter as he swung his feet slightly.

"Thank you, I try to run a neat ship." You giggle.

"I'm sorry if calling you pretty earlier made you uncomfortable." He shoots you an apologetic and almost bashful expression.

"It's okay." You smile, nudging his shoulder slightly. "I'm happy you finally came by, now I've officially met the whole crew." You joke causing IV to laugh. The four of them finished up quickly, before you knew it you found yourself smiling at the whirlwind of energy that filled your apartment.

"You need any help?" III asks as he leans against the counter.

"You've done more than enough, just relax." The two of you exchange a soft smile. "Also, thank you for fixing me up earlier." You return your focus to what you were cooking, hoping III wouldn't notice your slightly flustered appearance.

"No problem. How's the hand?" He asks as he holds out his own, wanting to examine it himself.

"Barely even feel it." Your breath freezes in your lungs as his fingers ghost over your skin. You glance up at him through your lashes. His blue eyes focused intently on the bandage he was readjusting. His gaze slowly trails up your arm to your face, your heart beginning to hammer in your chest.

"You have something just," he points to the spot on his own face. You attempt to wipe it away a couple times before he chuckles. "Would it be alright if I got it?" You nod. III's warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb slowly dragged across your skin. "There… beautiful." You couldn't help but blush, your expression causing III to breathe out a laugh as his eyes crinkle in a smile. You jumped slightly as the timer on the stove went off. III reluctantly pulled his hand away, you trailed after his touch, already missing the warmth he provided. "I'll let them know the food's done." He says before disappearing into the other room. It was nice having company for once. Instead of you having dinner alone, your dining room was filled with excited conversations and loud laughter. As you cleaned up that night you almost didn't want them to leave.

"Thank you for having all of us for dinner, that was very sweet of you." Vessel says kindly.

"It's the least I could do after all the work you guys did today." You smile.

"We're happy to help. You've been nothing but kind since I met you. If there's anyone we'd want to help, it would be you." 

"This apartment hasn't been this lively in a long time," you muse with a hum. "It was a really nice change." 

"Well… I have a feeling that this," he vaguely motions to your apartment. "Is going to be happening a lot more often." He laughs as he starts to head out of the kitchen. 

"Vessel?" He pauses. "Did you ever figure out why you think we were fated to meet each other?"

He shakes his head with a small smirk, "no, but I'm starting to get a pretty good idea." You trailed behind him as he re-enters your living room, the hushed whispers of the other three coming to a halt immediately. Vessel eyes them all with a knowing expression. "Alright, we should probably get out of your way. (Y/N), I will see you tomorrow." He bows his head slightly as he heads for the door. II and IV both say their goodbyes and follow him outside, leaving you alone with III.

"I'll be right down." He calls after them. III towered over you in the doorway, looking down at you with intoxicatingly beautiful blue eyes. He leans down to bring him almost face level with you, his forearm resting against the wall as he leaned in close. "Can I take you somewhere tomorrow night? Just you and me?" Despite how confident he was coming off you could hear the slight nervous tremor in his voice.

"What did you have in mind?" Excitement radiates off of him at your response.

"There's a drive-in I saw the other night, it looks like they have some sort of monster movie marathon tomorrow night… I think we'd have fun." You hear II call for him from outside.

“I’d love to go.” His hand slips into yours, tugging you the slightest bit closer. His thumb ran over your knuckles as his gaze trapped you in place.

“Goodnight, doll.” He smiles before suddenly pulling away. “Quit your yelling, I’m coming!” He calls down the stairs to an annoyed II. You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off your face as you watched them drive away. You grew nervous as the end of your shift ticked closer. Vessel and III slipped into the store right before closing as usual, III giving you a casual wink but not saying a single word. As they both stood at the counter his eyes kept meeting yours, a flustered smile finding its way to your face. The bell rings as Vessel exits the store, III quickly leaning in to whisper something to you. “I’ll be back in about an hour.” He says with a smile before hurrying out after Vessel. You wrapped your jacket tightly around you as you stood outside in the brisk night air. His truck rumbled up in front of you, he immediately jumped out to greet you.

“Hey III.” He sweeps you into a tight hug.

“You ready?” He asks excitedly. You nod in response, he takes your hand as he opens the passenger door of the truck for you, helping you inside. The worn leather seat shook in time with the truck's engine, the cab lit up in a soft yellow glow from the radio. III slid into the driver's seat, his eyes flashing to you as a soft smile lit up his features. He noticed you rubbing your arms, still looking perfectly content despite the weather.

“I brought a blanket in case you get cold, the heat in the truck doesn’t work that well, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.” He chuckles, your cheeks immediately growing warm at the statement. He fiddled with the temperature in the truck for a moment, nothing really changing before he gave up. He groans in annoyance, pausing to think of a solution. He looks over at you, eyes trailing over your much smaller form. He holds one side of his jacket open, beckoning you closer with his free hand. You slid closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into his warmth. "There, how's that?"

"This is fine." You stutter out, trying your best to hide your flustered state. You found yourself relaxing into him, his thumb rubbing your shoulder languidly, both of your eyes trained on the road ahead of you as you wound through the collage of vibrantly colored leaves. "Thank you for asking me to come with you." You suddenly pipe up. 

"Thank you for coming with me." He responds softly. "I was honestly a bit worried to ask you."

"What? Why?" You ask in a tone of disbelief, a small laugh lacing its way into your words as you slowly start to relax.

"Some random man in a mask comes up and asks you to spend time alone with him-"

"Well you're not some random man in a mask, III." You cut him off, both of you sharing a laugh. You lean your head on his shoulder, "besides, I enjoy your company… it's just nice to have someone that I want to spend time with, I guess." You glance up at him with a coy smile.

"Well if it's any consolation, I think you're pretty great and I want to spend time with you too." You giggle as you feel him nudge your side. You pulled into the drive-in, the teenager in charge of admission was too interested in their cellphone to pay much mind to the man in the mask before them.

"You're all set, man." They wave the two of you through as they take the cash, not bothering to look up from the screen. You pulled in to find the lot nearly empty, a few cars sporadically parked as far away from each other as possible.

"Lucky us, we get a private showing." You say in a giddy tone.

"I'm sorry I can't go get you popcorn, Vessel already didn't want me coming to somewhere so public as it is." You were about to assure him that it was fine, if anything you could always run over to the concession stand to get the snacks, but III never gave you the chance. "Excuse me, doll." He leans over your lap to retrieve something from the floor, his face hovering centimeters from yours, you pressed yourself back into the seat. You weren't uncomfortable being this close to him, but the warmth from his body, the smell of his cologne, you were having trouble thinking. He grabs a backpack from the floor of the truck, setting it in his lap before pulling out various snacks you had witnessed him purchase earlier in the day from your store. You can't help but smile as he lines up each kind on the dashboard. "I wasn't sure what kind of candy you liked so I grabbed a few different ones."

"You're so sweet, thank you." Your eyes meet his, making you feel like all the air has been sucked from your lungs.

"I just wanted to make sure you had a good time." He explains softly. He reaches out, carefully taking your hand in his. 

"How could I not? I'm here with you." The night was perfectly still around you. The faint crackling of the truck's old radio and the slight chill from its sputtering heater were lost to you at the moment. The only thing that mattered in your mind was III; how warm his hand felt wrapped around yours, how your heart fluttered in your chest as his attention dropped to your lips. His head dipped slightly, his warm breath pushing through the mask to fan over your skin, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the black fabric. You squeezed his hand, letting him know that, whatever was about to happen here, you welcomed it. He hooked a finger into his mask, beginning to pull it away from his face when the speakers suddenly blared to life, startling you apart. Your hand pulled away from his, folding then neatly in your lap as both of you stared straight ahead at the screen. "I'm sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things weird-"

"You didn't." Both of you fell silent at your reassurance.

"Can I still hold you? It's nice having you close." He admits bashfully. You nod, leaning into his side. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, his arm sliding back around your shoulders. The two of you sat completely engrossed through every movie; holding his hand in yours as the intense music swelled, giggling at the cheesy yet adorable special effects of 1930's cinema, the evening culminating with you struggling to stay awake as you cuddled into III's chest on the ride home. You sat up and stretched with a groan as you pulled around the back of the store. III's gaze darted anywhere besides you as he fidgeted with his seatbelt. "I had a really nice night with you." He smiles.

"I did too." Your hand slips into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Maybe, next time, I can plan something." His eyes finally meet yours.

"Next time?" You could hear the excitement laced in his tone. "Yeah, that sounds great." The two of you sat there for a little while longer, neither of you knowing what to say, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

"I should probably head in." You say reluctantly. "Goodnight, III."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He responds. As you go to get out he gives your hand one final squeeze, bringing your attention back to him. "Wait, can you… this is going to sound really strange, but can you close your eyes?" You nod, keeping your hand in his as you allow your eyes to slide shut. You heard the soft shuffling of fabric before a warm pair of lips pressed themselves to your cheek. The kiss was very brief, you barely had time to process what had happened before it was over. But, it still managed to leave you feeling so warm. A flustered giggle fell from your lips as you finally registered the kiss, squeezing III's hand. "You can open them." You turn to find him smiling under his mask, memorizing the adorable expression on your face. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You let your eyes wander over his face one last time before getting out of the truck. You jogged up the stairs, fighting with your keys for a moment before managing to unlock the door. You wave down to him as he pulls away. You lean against the door with a sigh as it shuts behind you, absolutely giddy over the fact you could still feel III's lips lingering in your skin. Thinking of the night with him your mind wandered back to the time you had spent with II, the soft glances and hushed conversations that caused your heart to thrum with anticipation. How you currently found a spark between you and both of these men. Groaning, you card your hands through your hair as you shuffle deeper into your apartment. There was nothing you could do but wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

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Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @herripinkle @thepoisonedchalice @saturnhas82moons @wingsofeternitysstuff @creamwhxre @itsyagirl-snowflake @themultiverseofmars @bookishpenguino @m0cha-bunny @coreofpleasure @madsthenightowl @dangerkitten1705 @rainy-darling @shad0wcast @amara-among-the-stars @venuswinnyix @dontpercieve-me-pls @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @jumpcauseimfroggy (I think that's everyone, if I missed you, you'd like to be added, or you're one of the few who's @'s didn't work {I can't figure out why that happened} please let me know!)

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Ransom Drysdale

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: can i put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Please let me know if I missed any!

Previous

The bar isn't as crowded as you'd feared. Usually you spend New Year's Eve in the comfort of your own home where no one can judge you for going to sleep at a decent time. But Ransom had insisted that going to a random bar full of strangers was his New Year's Eve tradition. You probably would have fought him a bit harder but you were still recovering from Christmas.

Ransom knew you were trying to reach out to your family again. That you'd hoped to make progress with them over Christmas. When you came back to the office the day after he saw through your fake smile. He's not pushing for details, part of being a good friend, right? But he can at least hang around so there's someone you can talk to if needed. He'd hoped that going to a bar and picking out potential kissers would be a good distraction for you.

At least until you confessed you'd never had a New Year's Eve kiss before.

"I've told you my parents were...fundamentalists," you griped. "There are some aspects of it that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to shake. Like kissing some random guy being a bad idea."

"Well, what if you get to know the guy first?" Ransom thinks. "Just don't lead with 'never had a New Year's Kiss'. That'll just bring out the weirdos."

That makes you half smile. "Yeah, definitely wouldn't want my first kiss to be with a stranger."

Ransom's brow furrows in confusion, "you mean first New Year's Eve kiss, right?"

"That too," you casually confess before taking a long sip of your Pretty In Pink cocktail.

Ransom gives you a look you can't decipher before saying, "maybe this was a mistake."

"No! It's a new year, it can be a new experience, another aspect of the old me that I let go."

"Only if you're certain now, before you've had too much to drink."

"Aren't you supposed to get drunk first? Liquid courage and all that?"

Ransom hesitates. It wasn't that long ago he'd be the first to encourage you to kiss whatever creep came along, just to spite your parents. Encourage you to be more like him, playing life like a game without consequences. But he's not that guy anymore. Right? At the very least, you're too good a person to be mimicking his behaviors.

He lets out an exasperated sigh, "no. You're telling me now, while you're sober and thinking relatively straight, if you really want to do this. Before you take another sip of that drink."

You give Ransom your best pout and you see him bristling. "I just wanna have some fun, Ran," you pout.

"Maybe this was a mistake," he shakes his head.

"No! You participated in my Friendsgiving tradition, I want to participate in one of your traditions! You said this is something you do every year and I want to participate!"

"We can spend the evening here, but we're gonna both forgo the kissing part," Ransom concedes. "We'll just get drunk and raise a toast at midnight, okay?"

You pout for real this time. "Why is it such a big deal? It's just a first kiss. Aren't women today supposed to be empowered to kiss whoever they want?"

Ransom considers his words. "You're right that you don't need permission to kiss anyone you want. I just...Something I've been trying to work on is reducing my family-induced cynicism. I know from experience that if you treat kisses like they're nothing, they can lose their meaning. I...I want better for you. Better for my friend."

Knowing how difficult it is for Ransom to talk about these things you stop pouting. "Okay," you nod. "Just a toast to bring in the new year."

"Thank you," he sighs, looking a bit more relaxed.

"How about we start the evening with a toast?" you offer, raising your glass. "A toast to friendship and new beginnings?"

Ransom raises his beer bottle, "and to not letting our past dictate our future."

You clink your drinks together and take a sip.

A couple hours and several drinks later you're feeling a little woozy. Ransom offers to go get the refills but you're adamant that it's your turn to do so. He's a bit tipsy himself, you've never seen him smile so much, and he agrees to let you go.

You give your order to the bartender and hold onto the bar to steady yourself when you feel a presence to your left. A tall man in a blue suit leans on the bar next to you. He's pretty handsome, even with the stubble. It actually works with his short hair. He turns to you and you struggle not to gasp at how pretty blue his eyes are.

"Oh, sorry if I'm crowding you," he smiles.

"No, not at all," you giggle.

"You here with your boyfriend?" he asks, gesturing to Ransom.

"Friend," you tell him.

His smile widens, "I'm Nick."

You give him your name as heat rushes to your face. This handsome man is talking with you!

"Got any plans for midnight? It's coming up in just an hour or so," Nick asks.

"A toast!" you say a little too loudly.

He gives you a mock frown, "no kiss?"

"No kisses! Just a toast. Ransom's idea."

"Ransom your friend?"

"Yup! And he's great! Once you get to know him."

"Yeah? Would you be up for introducing me? Letting me get to know him?"

"Sure! He could use more friends and you seem the friendly type!"

"That I am," he smirks.

The bartender brings you your drinks and you pay for them before making your way back to Ransom. Nick is very helpful at keeping you steady on your feet.

Back at the table you beam at Ransom, "I made a new friend! His name is Nick."

Nick holds out his hand to Ransom and says, "nice to meet you Hugh."

Ransom's smile is gone and whatever buzz he'd been feeling is greatly diminished. He grabs your hand, "we're going. Now."

"What? Why?" you pout. But Ransom gives you a look that pierces your drunken haze enough that you're grabbing your coat to go with him.

Ransom's jaw is clenched and he's practically dragging you out of the bar. Risking a glance back at Nick you see him smiling smugly, making you feel even more confused.

Once outside Ransom takes a breath of the cold air to steady himself. The plan was to walk back to your place since it was so close to the bar but now he's not sure. What if that asshole follows and makes things worse for you?

"C'mon," he tells you, taking your arm. "We're going to catch a cab back to my place."

"I don't like your place," you drunkenly confess. "It's so bare."

"Well then I'll make sure to get some interior decorating advice from you while we're there tonight, okay?"

You giggle at the thought but then you shiver, "Ransom, it's cold out here and I don't have my gloves."

"We're going to get a cab soon enough," he promises as he walks down the sidewalk, pulling you along with him.

"What's gotten into you? Oh, why did Nick call you Hugh? Is that what set you off?"

"Sort of," he grunts, looking everywhere for a cab. He doesn't want to use a Lyft or Uber in case this Nick character decides to share in on it.

"My hands are cold," you whine. "Can i put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?"

"When we get into the cab, sure."

You giggle, "I'm gonna hold you to that."

Ransom's barely gotten you into the back of the cab before you shove your hands underneath his sweater, making him yipe.

"Mmm, so warm. You gently squeeze his belly and snuggle close. "Even better than a plushie," you murmur as you start to fall asleep.

Ransom half carries you into his apartment and you give a little squeal when you see the Sweater Pusheen you'd gotten him sitting in a chair.

"You kept it?"

"Of course I did," Ransom admits. "Makes for good company."

You start to tear up, "I thought you hated it because I never saw it after I gave it to you."

"It's a nice gift and I like to have it around. Kept me from getting too lonely at Christmas."

You wrap your arms around Ransom with such force he falls back onto the couch. He tries to unclasp your arms from around him but you're holding tight so he waits for a few moments, letting you get the hug out of your system. Normally you ask permission but he's not going to begrudge you being a happy drunk.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes when he hears your soft snoring and resigns himself to a night on the couch. He looks at you softly and kisses the top of your head. There are worse ways to bring in the new year, he figures.

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82

@thiquefunlover63

[cassiebones]

Prompt from @imyouraziraphale

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!!

"We need a Christmas tree."

"We have a Christmas tree, Nicholas," Agatha said, pointing to the corner of the room where their tree sat.

"Mama, that is a drawing. It's not even in color!"

"It was good enough last year," Agatha huffed, crossing her arms. Her son gave her a look that may as well have been her own reflection and she groaned.

"We need a real tree," Nicky insisted. "Like the one in the mall!"

"That one is way too big for our tiny house, baby," Agatha sighed.

"Okay, but at least one that isn't made of paper," he rebutted, pointing at Agatha's sad little drawing taped to the wall.

"You do know where paper comes from, don't you?" Agatha asked.

"Mama."

"Okay, fine," Agatha huffed. "We'll go to the tree farm in Eastview tomorrow, okay? Jeez."

"Thanks!" He pressed a kiss to his mother's cheek and all but skipped out of the room. Agatha bit back the smile until he was out of view, shaking her head in adoration.

Vidal's Trees was somehow still open on Christmas Eve, but the pickings were slim for trees by this point. Nicky held tightly to Agatha's hand as he dragged her around the lot, examining tree's with a severe gaze, circling them, sniffing them, feeling their branches. Agatha watched him, half-amused, as she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in the New Jersey December chill. The sun was already going down and the temperature was dropping with it.

"Coffee?" Agatha turned to find a woman standing next to her, offering a steaming paper cup, a wry smile on her face. Agatha felt her cheeks warm at the other woman's presence. She was gorgeous, with medium-length, raven-black hair in a braid, wisps of hair coming out. She had several piercings in both ears and a stud on the right side of her nose. She wore a denim jacket with fur lining and a crocheted scarf sticking out with the lesbian pride flag colors (jackpot! a dumb voice in Agatha's mind supplied), and her dark jeans were tight and tucked into a pair of thick leather boots.

"It's free," the woman said when Agatha just stared at the offered cup. "Complimentary for customers. We also have hot chocolate." She nodded at Nicky, who was still circling the tree. "In the office over yonder." She nodded to a little cabin about twenty yards away.

"Yonder?" Agatha echoed, snorting as she finally accepted the cup. "I didn't know people said that this far north."

The woman smiled and shrugged. "My grandfather used to say it all the time," she said. "It kinda just stuck with me, I guess."

"It's cute," Agatha commented, taking a sip of the coffee. She sighed as the warmth spread through her. "Oh my Goddess, this coffee is amazing. What's in it?"

"Nothing special," the woman said, blushing slightly. "It's just some blend I get from the cafe I work at part-time. I just have a way with the coffee machine, I think."

"Well, if your touch with the hot chocolate is even remotely similar, I think my son would love some, if he ever decided on a tree, anyway." She looked at Nicky, who was testing the branches again. "Is this the one?" she asked, a little impatiently.

"I don't think so..." Nicky said, sounding disappointed. "There are a couple of bare spots and a lot of the branches are snapped. I don't think it would look very good in our house."

"Well, that's what we get for coming out last-second," Agatha sighed, offering an apologetic smile to the other woman. "Sorry to have wasted your time. How much do I owe you for the coffee?"

"Nothing," the woman said. "It's complimentary, remember?"

"For customers," Agatha said. "Based on the options you have left, I don't think we're going to be customers today."

In all honesty, the tree that Nicky had been considering was the best that Agatha could see. Everything else was either taken or worse off than this one was. She was doubtful that he'd be willing to take any of them home with him.

Pity. Maybe next year.

She pulled a couple dollar bills from her pocket and offered them to the raven-haired beauty, but the other woman refused to take them.

"Actually," she said, "I do have one more tree that you might want to see. Follow me."

She started walking away and Nicky immediately darted after her.

"Nicholas!" Agatha groaned, hastening to follow him without falling on her ass in the snow. She caught up to them closer to the cabin, following the two of them around the back of it.

Oh, great, a voice inside her head said, she's probably a murderer about to kill us in her shed. Well, I lived a good life, I guess.

"Here we are," the woman said, stopping just behind her cabin. There stood about four trees, in varying sizes, all in near-perfect condition. Seriously, if you looked up "Christmas tree" in the encyclopedia, there would be a picture of any one of these trees.

They were still rooted, too.

"They're perfect!" Nicky practically squealed, bouncing on his feet. "Can I pick any one of them?" he asked the woman, looking at her with his big brown eyes.

"It's up to your...mother?" She looked at Agatha. "I don't want to assume."

"Your assumption would be correct," Agatha said. "I am his mother."

"I'm sure your husband would approve of this one," the woman said.

Agatha wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. Nicky let out a laugh.

"Mama doesn't like boys!" he snickered. "And she's not married."

Her son, A+ wingman.

"Oh," the woman said, smiling at Agatha. "That's...interesting."

"Is it?" Agatha asked, her eyes flickering down to the scarf around the other woman's neck. She lifted her eyebrows pointedly. "Agatha, by the way." She offered her hand.

The other woman shook it with a toothy grin. She had the tiniest, most adorable gap in her front teeth. "Rio Vidal," she said.

"Of Vidal's Trees?" She let out a dramatic gasp. "I had no idea that I was in the presence of a local celebrity."

"Ha!" Rio said, shaking her head. "Hardly. My parents own this place. They're just down in San Juan for the winter, visiting family and whatnot. I've been tasked with wrapping business up for the season before I go join them in a couple weeks."

Agatha furrowed her brow. "You're alone for Christmas?" she asked, frowning. "That...sucks."

"Bad word!" Nicky exclaimed. "You owe me a dollar."

"You owe me your existence," Agatha huffed in return. He rolled his eyes. She smirked at him then turned back to Rio.

"It's fine," she said. "Christmas was never a huge event, anyway. It's always just been my parents and me. Dad can't really take the cold anymore, so once the temperature starts to drop into the teens, he heads south with my mom. I'm usually there by Christmas, but this year the earliest flight I could get was after New Year's. It's fine, though. Really. We'll celebrate the holidays, then."

"But won't Santa bring you presents still?" Nicky asked, looking genuinely concerned. "Don't your mommy and daddy want to see you unwrap them tomorrow morning?"

"I told Santa Claus to bring all my presents to their house in San Juan," Rio said, crouching to his height. "So I'll open all his gifts for me, just a little bit late. It's okay, though; I can wait."

Nicky still looked unsure. Then, he turned to his mother, tugging at her hand and motioning him down as Rio straightened up. Agatha offered Rio a bashful smile as she crouched down next to her son, letting him whisper in her ear.

"Can we invite her to our house for Christmas Eve?" Nicky whispered in Agatha's ear, making a blush bloom on her face so big that it reached the tips of her ears.

"Nicky..." Agatha whispered back, shaking her head.

"Please, Mama?" he begged, giving her those big brown eyes and his little pout and Good Goddess she had pretty much taught him that, hadn't she? Damn her.

Agatha took a deep breath, nodding as she stood, ignoring the protest in her knees as she did so.

"Rio," she said, trying to keep her voice steady as the other woman's warm gaze met hers, "would you like to join us for Christmas?"

Rio's eyes widened at that. "Oh," she said, a pretty pink spreading over her cheeks. "Um, that's really nice of you to offer, but you don't have to..."

"I insist," Agatha said, feeling Nicky tugging at her hand again. "So does he." She motioned to her son, who hit Rio with that same brown puppy dog stare of his. It proved lethal: Agatha watched as Rio melted under it, offering him a soft smile.

"Okay," she said. "If you insist. I would be happy to join you for Christmas."

"And Christmas Eve, too!" Nicky said. "We're having a party!"

Rio's eyes widened at that. "You are?" she asked.

Agatha took a deep breath, squeezing her son's hand back as she nodded. "We are. A few friends for dinner," she said. "Nothing special."

"We're playing Pictionary!" Nicky said. "Auntie Jen is super competitive! And Aunt Lilia makes really good cannolis!"

"You know," Rio said, smiling down at him, "I happen to love Pictionary and cannolis, so that sounds pretty great to me." She grinned up at Agatha, who smiled back softly. "If you don't mind, of course."

"I wouldn't have let him mention it if I did," Agatha said with a chuckle. "Here, let me get your number and I'll text you my address." She opened a 'New Contact' tab in her phone and offered it to Rio, who was visibly blushing. Agatha's face matched hers and she cleared her throat as their fingers brushed in the exchange.

Nicky watched them with a grin, squeezing his mother's hand a little. When Agatha looked down at him, she found his eyes twinkling. She made a face at him and he giggled, pressing his face into her side. She let go of his phone, running her fingers through his mop of hair.

"Here," Rio said. "Um, I can't wait until the party. I'm sure I'll kick Auntie Jen's butt at Pictionary," she said, looking down at Nicky, who giggled again.

Agatha smiled at the contact name for Rio ("Tree Girl") and sent a text with her address. There was a chime from Rio's pocket and she plucked out her phone, eyebrows lifting.

"Westview," she said, letting out a low whistle. "Fancy." She smirked up at Agatha. "I'll be there. Should I, uh, bring anything? Drinks, ice, food...a tree?" She nodded toward the four trees in her side yard.

"Oh," Agatha said, her eyes widening. "Right." She considered the four trees of varying sizes. "Um, that one might be the perfect size for our apartment, don't you think, Nicky?"

Nicky considered the second-smallest of the four trees, circling it like a dog looking for the perfect angle to lift his leg. Then he nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "I think so. There are no bald spots."

"Perfect, then," Agatha said, turning back to Rio. "How much?"

"Don't worry about it," Rio said. "Consider it a gift."

"Seriously?" Nicky exclaimed, smiling wide. "Awesome!"

"No," Agatha said, looking between him and Rio. "No, we couldn't possibly - "

"Agatha," Rio said, stopping Agatha's words dead on her tongue, "you've just invited me - a stranger - to spend Christmas with you just so I, a grown woman, wouldn't be alone. It's the least I can do to repay you."

"You don't have to repay me," Agatha said. "Besides, it's Christmas; you do good deeds on Christmas, don't you?"

"Then this is my good deed," Rio said. "I got you a Christmas tree. Just say thank you and let me get my axe."

"Your...you're going to cut it down yourself?" Agatha asked, feeling her entire body go hot.

"Of course," Rio snorted. "Do you see anybody else here? How else was I going to get it out of the ground?"

"That is so cool," Nicky said, practically bouncing around in a circle.

Agatha stayed rooted to the ground - much like the four trees behind her - while Rio disappeared around the back of the house and came back seconds later wielding an axe. Her eyes were glued to the other woman as she went to work chopping down the tree, her fists clenching at her sides as many thoughts ran through her mind.

Thoughts she dared not say aloud. Thoughts that would make a stripper blush.

The tree fell to the snow with a muted thud as Rio wiped sweat from her brow, grinning when she caught Agatha still staring at her, a fervent flush on her cheeks. Agatha looked away when Rio met her eyes, clearing her throat.

Rio reached for the end of the tree, pulling it up to her shoulder and dragging it to where there were a bunch of coiled up ropes. Agatha continued to watch her as she tied the tree up, then lifted it like it was nothing, over her shoulder.

"Where's your car?" she asked, tucking some more ropes under her arm. Agatha motioned in the general direction of her car. "Lead the way," Rio said.

Agatha nodded, reaching for her son's hand and practically dragging him in the direction of their car, all while ignoring his knowing smirk as they trudged through the snow, Rio right next to them.