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moremaybank · 6 months

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AIN’T A LONELY CHRISTMAS SONG — j.m

pairing: dad!jj maybank x mom!reader warnings: sexual innuendos (sort of), jj being a tad mistletoe obsessed, your daughters get into a tiny disagreement, mentions of pregnancy, i think that's it author's note: so i was trying to stay away from using names, but it was getting repetitive saying your older daughter and your younger daughter over and over so i gave them names. hopefully you find them cute LOL. also, this isn't technically part of my holiday event, but i wanted to write this to sort of kick things off ♡︎ naughty or nice ! ౨ৎ

“C’mon, pretty girl. It’s getting hard holdin’ on like this. You sure it’s not too big?”

“We just need to finesse it a bit. Nudge it a little to the left ‘n then we can slide it in.”

Beads of sweat started to form on JJ's forehead. His muscles were starting to cramp and he had to hold his breath to make sure he didn’t physically combust. “Okay, baby. How ‘bout now? ‘M I good?”

“Yeah. Okay. You’re good.”

With a collective heave, JJ pushed while you pulled, but the oversized tree seemed determined to resist. Then, after numerous strategic twists and turns, you managed to get the tree inside of your shared home. Needles of pine littered across your wooden floors like confetti.

JJ chuckled as he looked at the slightly dishevelled tree. “Well, you said you wanted the entryway to look memorable, right?”

You sent a glare his way. “Not what I meant, J.”

Soon, you heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet against your stairs, followed by two adorably shocked gasps. Your older daughter Avery sprinted down the steps, her little sister Elle hot on her trail as they rushed over to the two of you.

“Woah! Big tree!”

“Big tree,” Elle echoed in agreement. JJ crouched down, scooping her into his brawny arms and lifting her so she could get a better look. She reached out, her small fingers brushing against one of the branches and she retreated with a curious and excited squeal.

“Yeah, I think Mama went a little overboard. You agree?”

Avery clung to your side, her arms circling your hips as her chubby cheek smushed against your thigh. Big blue eyes gleam as they stare up into yours. “I think it’s perfect.”

You broke out into a smile, smoothing out some of the frizz on the top of her head. “Me too. Daddy just doesn’t see our vision.”

JJ rolled his eyes at that.

—

Soon enough, Christmas music swirled through the air, and the sweet fragrance of your festive candle made your home smell like its own winter wonderland.

JJ used his manpower to retrieve all of your decorations from your basement, earning a sweet but fleeting kiss from you before you lugged it all over to the tree.

Boxes upon boxes of ornaments and other decor littered around the room, messily so as your girls dove in with eagerness. Their decorating skills were definitely…questionable, but neither of you could deny how adorable they looked as they overflowed the tree with everything they could find.

JJ instantly recognized that caliber of enthusiasm, knowing that his gorgeous girls had no doubt inherited it from their mom. The woman of his dreams had passed on everything he loved about her to their children, and it warmed his heart.

“Look at this, babe,” you said, peering at your husband over your shoulder.

JJ abandoned his place on the couch, crouching down beside you to get a look at what you were showing him. It was an ornament, a very worn one. Inside laid a picture of the two of you, huddling together with bright, toothy grins and Santa hats on your heads. You couldn’t have been more than twelve years old at the time. Your parents had invited JJ to stay over for Christmas, knowing full well that Luke wouldn’t try to give him much of a memorable day. They’d gone over the top, getting double the amount of presents and matching pyjama sets for the both of you. You’d crafted gingerbread houses (in which JJ had tried to make a competition out of it and lost severely), drank copious amounts of hot chocolate, and watched Christmas movies until you slumped together on the couch in deep slumber.

JJ smiled fondly. Those times were so precious to him, then and now. He’d just started to recognize that he was nursing a crush on you, and being with you at your favourite time of the year only made him fall for you more. Sure, he was just a kid in middle school. But that didn’t mean he was too young to realize how much adoration he held for you in his heart.

“You were so cute,” you gushed, turning your face to him so you could kiss his cheek. “Baby JJ.”

He arched a brow. “You sayin’ I’m not cute anymore?”

A laugh bubbled from your throat. “Of course not. But look at those cheeks. So squishy.” You pinched one of his cheeks, maybe a tad too hard, and he shoved your hand away, massaging the soreness away.

“Ouch, baby.”

You leaned in to plant another kiss on the apple of his cheek but were interrupted when a sudden and spirited fight broke out between your daughters. Both of your heads snapped toward them, your shared bubble of love now popped.

“I want the star!” Elle insisted, clutching onto the golden tree topper with all her little might.

“No fair! You did it last time!” Avery’s arms crossed over her chest and she stomped as her tantrum began to surface.

JJ, sensing the inevitable meltdown about to ensue, intervened with his signature, charming grin. The one that had convinced you to marry him and had managed to give you two beautiful children. “Alright, ‘lil ladies. There’s no need to fight. You can both do it together, yeah? Can you do that?”

JJ’s hands reached out, tickling each of their sides and watching their twin frowns dissolve into smiles. Giggles filled the air and warmth bloomed in your chest instantly.

“Okay, Daddy,” Elle spoke, giving in to her favourite person in the world. Her eyes drifted onto her sister. “‘M sorry, Avey.”

“That’s real nice of you, Ellie,” JJ praised, kissing her temple. Then his gaze moved onto her sister. “How ‘bout you, Aves?”

Your eldest nodded, now looking bashful. Avery, ever the sweetest (despite her occasional outbursts), caved in the moment her little sister’s nickname for her hit her ears. “I’m sorry too. We can be a team.”

Your smile grew larger, making your face sore.

You and JJ had been through it all together. From friends to lovers, and everything in between. He’d plucked his heart out of his chest and handed it to you on a silver platter without thinking twice about it. The power of his love was almost surreal. But the most magical thing you got to witness while being with him was watching him transform into an amazing father. Sure, he was a goofball who was constantly bouncing off the walls with all that energy pumping through his veins twenty-four-seven, but when it came to your little girls, he was a natural. Hell, your theory was proven to be right yet again when he handled that impending tantrum with just the flash of his smile.

“What are you lookin’ at, goof?”

JJ’s voice broke you out of your daze. He was standing now, each of your girls propped up on both of his hips as he carried them. Avery and Elle eyed you curiously while their hands both held the golden star.

You gave him a shrug, walking over to them. Your arms wrapped around all three of them as best as you could manage. “You’re all just so lovely.”

JJ burned to kiss you. He almost did. But when Elle whined about how her arm was getting tired from holding the tree topper up, he was returned to reality.

The kiss can wait, he thought.

“Alright, my little star commanders. Let’s do this thing.”

He carefully stepped up onto the stool sitting in front of the large tree, and with a team effort, Avery and Elle strategically placed the star at the very top. They clapped and cheered together, high-fiving in victory once JJ stepped down and back to let them admire their work.

“Nice work, babies. You killed it.”

—

You passed through the living room and into the kitchen, taking note of the mistletoe that your husband had sneakily hung in the doorway. You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you headed over to the cupboard to grab some mugs and the hot chocolate mix. As you waited for the milk to warm up, your eyes landed on the alternate entrance into the kitchen. More mistletoe dangled from the doorframe. You knew without a doubt that you’d find it in every entryway that adorned your home.

You made all four cups, completing them with dollops of whipped cream and chocolate shavings. You placed them on your wooden tray, but before you could pick it up and bring it to your family, strong arms wrapped around your frame. The owner’s chin dropped onto your shoulder after leaving a kiss there.

“Hi, Mama,” he rasped. You could hear the mischievous grin in his tone. “These look amazing.”

“I figured we deserved something sweet for all our hard work,” you responded. You turned around in his hold, your hands running up the lengths of his arms and coming to a stop on his shoulders. “Nice job with the mistletoe, by the way.”

He shrugged casually, but his smirk only grew wider. “Can’t be out here wasting any opportunities. Y’know I can’t live without your kisses.”

“Mhm.”

“Hey. ‘M serious. Gotta be prepared.” JJ pulled something from his pocket, and his arm raised over your heads. “See? Prepared.”

You laughed softly, leaning up to peck his lips. “You don’t need to carry that around. I’ll kiss you any time you want.”

“That a promise?”

“The biggest promise, Maybank. Those lips are mine.” You granted him another kiss, this one languid and loving. “Now let’s go check up on our troublemakers. It’s way too quiet in there.”

—

The four of you settled in on your couch, the fireplace glowing and providing a coziness to the room. You all found refuge under one of your thick, fluffy blankets, with both girls plopped in yours and JJ's laps. The soft, golden cast of the lights on your tree illuminated the room enchantingly.

Avery nestled against JJ, her head resting comfortably on his chest, while Elle found a cozy spot in your hold. The familiar tune of Where Are You, Christmas filled the room, Cindy Lou Who’s sweet voice carrying out the lullaby that seemed to put everyone at ease.

As the plot unfolded, the Grinch was giving a dramatic monologue at the annual Whobilation festival in Whoville. Even with all the chaos ensuing as the he burned the town tree and destroyed the celebration, Avery’s eyes drooped, and Elle’s rhythmic breathing told you that she was already fast asleep. You shifted her into a more comfortable position gently and looked over at JJ. His eyes were fixated on the sleeping girls, a soft smile playing on his rosy lips.

“I’ve dreamt of nights like this.” His voice carried in a whisper, careful not to wake the kids up.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, his expression clear with contentment. “Yeah. When I was younger, I’d just sit ‘n imagine what it’d be like to have a home, a family…all of this. Luke never gave me any of that.”

His arms tightened around Avery, who curled into his chest further in her sleep. “Never thought I’d have this, y’know? Never thought I’d get to call you my wife — I still can’t believe I get to call you that, by the way. Or have a real home, a real family. I love you guys more than I ever thought I could.”

“We love you. The girls are crazy about you, ‘n so am I. We’re so lucky to have you, baby.” You extended your arm toward him, placing your hand on his shoulder and giving him a comforting squeeze.

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m lucky. You made this real for me. I never thought I deserved any of this, but you never stopped trying to convince me that I could have it all. This is all ‘cause of you, pretty girl.”

“It was a team effort,” you assured him. “The house, the girls. Our life. This was both of us.”

“When you talk like that, it makes me wanna give you another baby.”

You bit your lip through an uneasy smile. “I don’t think it’s gonna take that much work…”

His blonde brows pulled together in confusion. “Huh?”

“I’m pregnant.”

JJ’s eyes widened once the words sank in, showcasing a mixture of surprise and overwhelming joy. His smile was so bright that it gave your decorated tree some tough competition.

“Really?” He whispered, breathless.

You nodded, your smile mirroring his. He’d always had that effect on you, always had such contagious enthusiasm. “Yeah. Looks like we’re getting our dream again.”

With a lack of better judgment, JJ let out a whoop of excitement that echoed throughout the room. He had temporarily forgotten about the peaceful slumber that had taken over your girls. “Fuck yeah!”

You giggled softly, placing a finger on your lips and shushing him. “Shh. You’re gonna wake them.”

He half-ignored your words, leaning in to kiss you deeply. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled against your lips. “‘M just excited.”

“It’s okay, babe. I’m happy you’re happy.”

Your head tilted, resting on his shoulder. You settled further into the couch, feeling the warmth of the joyful news you’d just shared. JJ swore to himself that he didn’t think he could get any luckier, but in a matter of mere moments, he learned that he was wrong. Your family was expanding, and there was more love to be shared. Love he didn’t even know he had in him. Each time you have a child, it grows more and more, yet it still shocks him every time it appears on his doorstep.

JJ’s head rested against yours after he kissed your hair. If this was how he’d live out the rest of his days — surrounded by the beautiful family you two had created together, he’d never want for anything else. His dream came true, now four times over.

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sansaorgana · 2 months

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Hey! I absolutely love your work and was wondering if you would be open to doing a John egan x reader but reader is really close with gales girl Marge and kinda takes care of her while the war is happening and neither of the guys know till they come back and release that Mabye reader moved across the street from Marge and how much she’s been helping Marge, I think it would be interesting to see a domestic and fluff relationship between the two girls and + the men being involved

hello, honey! 💘 thank you so much for your request 😘 it was a very interesting scenario, I love the idea of women helping each other in difficult times 💪🏻💪🏾 not gonna lie, though, I was so jealous of Marge while writing it 🤣 I'm a hopeless case when it comes to Buck, I swear 🙄

Nothing was easy when the boys were away. Handling everything on your own and worrying about your husband at the same time was driving you crazy. You could only imagine how the women left alone with their children had to feel like. You weren’t sure if you’d handle that.

Some women handled the new reality better, some had a more difficult time to adjust. Marge was one of them and as Bucky’s wife you felt responsible for her just like you knew that your husband felt responsible for her boyfriend. They were closest friends and you were aware that if it was Bucky who had stayed in The US, he would take care of Marge because she was important for Gale. But it wasn’t him here, it was you.

You had only met her a few times before John went to Europe but she was sweet and she had wanted you to remain friends like your men were. You would call each other every week and talk on the telephone, trying to cheer yourselves up. But when both of your men had found themselves in the POW camp, you noticed that Marge was getting worse.

You packed your bags and decided to move in with her for some time. She was living alone and spending her whole days worrying. You couldn’t let that happen.

“They are together there, darling,” you squeezed her hands in yours when you were sitting together on her couch. “Think about that, it’s quite lucky that they’re together even there,” you didn’t know how else to cheer her up.

“But God only knows how long they will be there…” She sniffled her tears back. “What if we never see them again? How do they treat them?”

“We can try to write them letters, how about that? I know that the Red Cross helps with delivering them. Maybe they will get ours,” you proposed and she nodded, hesitantly.

“You know, Gale asked me to marry him in his last letter before he went down,” she confessed and you gasped before hugging her tight.

“Oh, congratulations! Then you absolutely have to write to him! You can’t leave him waiting!” You encouraged her and she broke a smile.

“Of course I’m going to say yes.”

“Of course,” you winked at her. “You know, some part of me is less worried now when I know John’s in the camp. At least he doesn’t fly anymore,” you told her. “I only hope he behaves well there because you know what he’s like. If he acts up too much, they can hurt him.”

“I’m sure that my Gale is watching over him and doesn’t let him act stupid,” Marge squeezed your hand and you nodded. She was right. The boys were looking out for each other. Just like you and Marge.

A few weeks later you already decided to stay in the same town where Marge lived. There was a house down the road for sale and you decided to move in there. You knew that John wouldn’t get mad about it and he’d like to live closer to his friend, too. You were sure he’d follow Buck wherever he’d go so you just didn’t listen to your family telling you it was an impulsive decision. It was not. Marge needed you and you needed her.

In the meantime, Buck had his birthday in late December. Marge was very sad about it so you came up with an idea of baking him a cake and decorating it with candles. You invited a few close friends and took pictures of his birthday party to show him when he’s back. She wrote to him about it in a letter that she hoped the Red Cross would manage to deliver. You did the same thing in September 1944 when it was your husband’s birthday and then again in another December for Buck again. This time it was more sad, though, when you both realised that it was his second birthday in the POW camp already. You were slowly starting to lose hope to ever see your husband again, too. But you tried not to show it and be strong. For Marge.

In the letter you wrote to your husband, you mentioned that you moved closer to Marge and that you were looking after her. But you didn’t tell him everything because there were things that men would not understand. And there were things men should not know. You didn’t want them to worry even more but there were nights where both of you would just hug each other and cry. You tried to remain strong for her, to be the responsible one. But it was so difficult. You would let a few silent tears flow, trying to cheer her up although the words you were saying were not believable even to you.

“Germany is losing this war, Marge, we’re gonna see our boys again, soon,” you rubbed her back on those nights as you were sitting by the fireplace.

“What if they get rid of their prisoners? They’re not good people, they don’t respect the laws,” she sobbed.

And what could you answer? You felt the same, you were worried about the exact same thing on all the sleepless nights, clutching on the sheets and praying to all the gods above you to keep your men safe.

“It just won’t happen,” you told her as if you were a god yourself and you knew. But you didn’t, you couldn’t know. She chose to trust you because she desperately needed to be assured.

Sometimes you wished it had been you being held by her. Sometimes you felt weak, too. But you chose to look after her and you would not back out.

In the summer of 1945 they finally came back and you threw a small party at Marge’s house to greet the boys home. Everything had been arranged by just the two of you – flowers, decorations and food. You had lots of fun preparing it together, excitedly awaiting to see your men again.

Of course you feared they would be different now. They had spent so much time in that camp, there was no way they’d come back the same. But you promised each other to always be there for the other one; to help and support when needed. You were like family now.

At the first sight they seemed the same – except for the eyes, they were sadder now. But your John was still playful as he spun you around and rubbed his nose with yours. He made a few teasing comments and inappropriate jokes that would make Gale roll his eyes and sigh. Gale seemed to be the same as well – kind and charming as always, with only a few new scars on his cheeks that Marge kissed all over.

But you knew it was just an act. You knew because the way you behaved oh-so-normal around them was an act, too. You were smiling and joking around with your husband like in the old days, but in fact you just wanted to curl up in his arms and cry out all the ugly tears you had been holding inside for the past two years.

When all the guests left, you helped Marge in the kitchen to wash the dishes before you and John would go home, too. You were talking with each other softly about some silly things when Gale and John entered the kitchen and leaned on the wall as they watched you.

“What is it, boys?” You asked them with a soft smile.

“Just admiring our wives, can’t we?” John winked at you and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a wife yet,” Marge teased.

“Soon you will be!” You reminded her excitedly and she giggled.

“I’ll go to the garden to see if there aren’t any dishes there,” she told you and you nodded. Marge went outside and you went back to drying the plates with a cloth.

“Thank you,” you heard Gale’s voice behind you as you flinched.

“Gee, you scared me. For what, Buck?” You asked.

“You were taking care of her,” he looked into your eyes deeply and for the first time this evening you could see all the hurt and pain on his face that he had been trying to hide.

“It’s nothing, don’t even mention that,” you told him as your voice broke. “You were looking after my Bucky.”

“And he was looking after me. Every day,” Gale nodded and walked away from you as Marge entered the kitchen again with a few plates and glasses.

You glanced at your husband who went oddly silent. He only watched you with sad eyes and you realised there were things about that war they would not tell you nor Marge in a long time. Perhaps never.

You finished the dishes and said goodbye to Marge and Gale. They were not married yet so he was supposed to rent a place nearby for a few weeks until the wedding but on that night he wanted to stay with her and you couldn’t blame him. You waved at them for the one last time and took John’s hand to go back to your house.

You opened the door and turned the light on with a relaxed sigh.

“I hope you like it, John. I had to manage everything on my own,” you told him.

He had been in the house early in the morning after his arrival but soon after you had left for the party at Marge’s house.

“Yeah, I can see that. Some things need to be fixed,” he pointed out and you shook your head at him as he grinned widely and pulled you closer for a hug. “I will repair them, don’t you worry, sugar.”

“Good. But overall you like it, yes?” You bit on your lower lip.

“Of course I do. It’s beautiful. But I’d live with you in a tent by the river, you know that? Everything would be beautiful with you in it,” he leaned in to place a soft kiss upon your lips and you threw your hands around his neck. “You’ve been a brave girl. I know what you did for Marge,” he whispered.

“I’ve already told Buck that it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing,” John insisted. “I know how much it had to cost you. Taking care of her when you needed to be taken care of, too. I know,” he caressed your cheek gently. “I’ve been taking care of him. Yeah, he was the one to keep me out of trouble but I’ve made sacrifices for him that only I know about,” he confessed.

For a moment, you felt jealous of Buck Cleven.

“I guess we are just good friends,” you tried to make a lighthearted comment about it. “They’re very lucky to have us.”

“Mhm, incredibly lucky,” John chuckled and leaned in once again to rub your nose with his. “I missed you terribly. Every day and every night. I’m not as good with words as Buck is, I’ve never been the romantic type but I hope you know that I mean it. I love you,” he whispered and you cupped his face with a smile.

“Bucky, baby, I didn’t fall for you because you were a romantic or good with words anyway. I fell for you because you were my goof. My class clown,” you assured him. “And I missed you, I missed you, I missed you… Terribly. Awfully. Dreadfully,” you kept saying these words and laughing through the tears of joy as he laughed, too.

“Okay, enough, I get the picture,” he pecked your lips. “Your goof is back now,” he assured you and you caressed his hair with your fingertips.

“I’m glad,” you nodded. “But if my goof needs to be sad sometimes or wants me to hug him and tell him it’s going to be alright, I don’t want him to keep it a secret, alright? I’m here for you, baby, for better and for worse,” you promised.

Bucky pulled you even closer for a very tight hug as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, his moustache tickling your soft skin. You put your arms around him and squeezed him in a loving way.

“I’m grateful, sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear as he placed a small kiss on your cheek, “but now it’s time for you to be taken care of.”

MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*bucky #lilysfiction #callum turner x reader #john egan x reader

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eluxcastar · 2 months

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The little sisterfication of Arlecchino

── ୨୧：arlecchino & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: little siblingfication final stretch lets gooooo

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child arlecchino, it is fluff and angst at the same time, like hurt/comfort ig? idk, implied child abuse, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 1.9k

there are only two more after this oh god. Pierro and Columbina. I also realised like five seconds ago that Pulcinella is not on the list but tbh Idk if I'll add him in because I kinda don't know what to do for him at all. I could try to make it cute? maybe, I'll see

this started way nicer, but then I remembered the previous Knave was an asshole and quickly replace the vibes that bled over from watching Grease with something darker. The Knave is used to refer to the previous Knave, while Arlecchino refers to our Arle, because I needed some way to distinguish them. I also thought the previous Knave was a dude for some reason?? I fixed it though

all little siblingification posts

Biologically speaking, the two of you are not related in the slightest, but it's not uncommon for children in the House of the Hearth to choose their siblings and stick by them until the inevitable moment they either remain together or are parted by responsibility. You have been there and guided Arlecchino through the orphanage since she first arrived from Fontaine. Arlecchino might've been lost and confused for much longer if not for you.

Instead, she had you, a little older and wiser, to walk her around and teach her how things worked.

The moment she arrived, your guardian, the Knave—now her guardian as well—pulled you over to meet her and asked you to show her around and make her comfortable in her new life. Your new little sister, she called her, and she stared at the woman dumbly before you stole her opportunity to ask him what she was talking about, whisking her away.

You took her to see everything, showing her off to as many people as you ran into and introduced her as you went. She felt like a shiny new toy in an overcrowded playground, and you let her revel in it until it tired her out.

Once the fanfare died down a little bit, you took her to find an unoccupied bed to put her things on. There weren't many, but you offered to help her find a place for them nonetheless. You got a sheet and blanket from the linen closer to make the bed for her and helped her stand a few things up on the headrest to make it her own. Despite her apprehension, you almost managed to make living here seem just a little less bleak; looking over her bed, made and decorated with her stuffed toy and a few personal belongings she'd brought, it felt a little more like home.

You assure her all will be fine, the only thing even close to soothing in the whirlwind that was coming here, and point her in the direction of your bed not too far away. The one with the overcoat laid on the end of it. You always put it there when you're not wearing it, apparently.

She refrains from asking why you're not wearing it and why you own one of the grey and red coats she recognises from the fatui footsoldiers she saw wearing them.

Most importantly, you teach her the rules: behave yourself, clean up after yourself, bedtime is nine pm, and not a minute later, finish your dinner—

"Even if you're full?"

"Even if you're full."

and the most crucial rule: never make the Knave mad.

"Why?"

"Just don't, ok?"

Arlecchino doesn't dare question why again. You know best, and something in your eyes tells her she should trust that.

Through tense, dreary halls, you lead her with a skilled hand and the favour of the Knave. She runs to you in the middle of the night when the far-off screams scare her awake, yet despite your promises, you are nowhere to be found, and neither is your coat. It's a suspicious absence you explain away with housework and chores. The children jump at the chance to see you, and you greet them much more warmly than the stoic Knave. Everyone tells her you have something the others don't, and she should stay in your good graces for as long as possible. The Knave likes you, and you can get anyone out of anything as a result. It's why she calls you to do everything for her, including taking Arlecchino off her hands and showing her around. You are her best.

It's as if you have a sense for every time she breaks the rules. She stays up late one night and sneaks out of bed to keep playing. She is not tired in the slightest and restless beyond belief; she is a child filled with energy and naive to the consequences of her choices. She is caught, of course, the Knave looming over her to ask what exactly she believes she's doing. She stumbles for an answer. It is just as she thinks the worst has come to pass when you appear in the doorway with a broom in hand. You asked Arlecchino to help you clean up. She's picking up the toys for you to sweep the floor.

The Knave hardly believes it, but what the others say is true—she favours you. She relinquishes Arlecchino to your care, and you walk her back to bed with the tightest grip on her arm she's ever felt. Through gritted teeth, you scold her harshly, "Don't ever do that again!"

She almost fears disappointing you more than the Knave.

You make the House feel safe. With you, it becomes a place where one day she may thrive and return to the world a well-raised woman with much promise. You teach her to play the games the others made for themselves and perfect the chores the Knave demands of her. Arlecchino could wish for no greater sibling than you, and you walk her through it with the patience of a saint as if you have done it a million times before.

She runs to you for everything from hurt knees to finding her lost stuffy, where it has run off to. You respond in kind by cleaning and bandaging the scuffs in her skin. You even show up well into the night past bedtime to return her dearest stuffed toy so she can sleep easily. You were happy to stay when she asked you to sit with her until she could fall asleep and stroke her hair to settle her. It is one of the few tastes of home she savours, even though home did not have you there to take care of her.

You are the closest she will ever have to a parent. You are happy to have her wake you up in the middle of the night when she's scared and needs help, assuming you're there at all. Most nights, you're busy cleaning up the messes other children made that would get them in trouble, and you take her back to bed whenever she finds you.

However, it does not take long for Arlecchino to realise why you warned her against angering the Knave. She decides that Arlecchino, at her tender age, is well and truly ready to complete a mission on her own. A terribly simple one, but it scares her nonetheless.

What scares her more is that you bargain your way into going with her under the guise of showing her the ropes.

You are the best guide she can ask for and nothing less as she comes to understand what that coat is for. You're not just a child of the House; you're a fatuu. You put it on before you leave and lead her off wearing it, making sure she's warm and advising her to wear gloves before the Knave practically tosses the two of you into the harsh winter of Snezhnaya to complete the task thrust upon Arlecchino as her first test.

Before anything else, you make that much abundantly clear to her: what Arlecchino does determines her future within the House, and you don't want to see her fail. You shed your coat to give to her when she gets too cold and hold her hand to force her to continue even when she feels like giving up would be much easier. More than anything, you are loose-lipped and cynical in a way she's never seen before. Over hours, you drill everything into her head that has been kept from her, the source of the screams she's heard that everyone seems to ignore, the reason for the abundance of fear permeating the House.

Every part of the carefully crafted wonderland you had been trying to make her falls to pieces before her very eyes as you walk through the snow with a backpack so heavy she begged you to take it from her shoulders. The Knave is a tyrant reigning over the only thing she can control with an iron fist. Whether she likes it or not, there is no escape, and the Knave will hold anything she can over her head.

You dodge the question when she asks what the Knave uses against you.

Arlecchino quickly realises you have seen many children walk the path she is now on, and she dares not ask how many of those you still waste your breath on. You're sorry. You tried to protect her, but there are some things you can't do.

The journey is bleak, and the trip home is even bleaker as you're late; it's well past bedtime. You enter quietly and run a bath to warm her up, slipping your coat from her shoulders and leaving it by the fireplace. Her only comfort is in you crouching by the edge of the bath with a rag in your hands to scrub her clean with the help of the meagre few inches of water you could afford to spare her.

Your apologies have subsided, as has your tough love attitude, spoiling her with affections and gentle reassurance she didn't expect after seeing how you acted only hours earlier. You pull Arlecchino close and stroke her hair. The wall of the tub becomes little more than a nuisance as it blocks her from fully hiding away in your arms, where she hopes to disappear. She is afraid, but you manage to settle her fears to a nagging whisper tucked away in the deepest corner of her brain.

Apologies give way to promises, grand promises you know you cannot keep, promises of protecting Arlecchino for as long as you can.

You wrap her in a towel, help her dress herself in the night clothes you retrieved from her bed, and send her off to sleep with the reassurance that you'll handle reporting all of what the two of you were doing to the Knave.

Content and soothed by your words and promises, Arlecchino wanders back to bed, where she makes herself comfortable, staring across the room at your empty bed. Perhaps you have said those things to many children before her, but it doesn't occur to her as you quickly fall back into the role of being her only comfort in this house of horrors. You'll protect her from anything in your power, keep her safe, and watch over her.

Sleep coaxes Arlecchino to relax, give in, and rest, and she almost does. She is seconds from being out like a light when she hears those screams again—those that used to send her bolting to look for you in your bed. You were never there when she tried to find you, and now, as she stares across the room at your vacant bed, she suddenly realises why.

The screams that had woken her all those nights had been yours.

Until you could no longer stay by her side, you would protect her from anything.

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

#✦ — headcanons.#✦ — fluff.#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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hockeyboistrash · 13 days

Text

our wedding | s.j

summary: you and seth go to his teammates wedding but when he mentions your own you start to freak out

Seth was someone who always had to touch you somehow, whether that was the small of your back or holding your hand, but when he's had a few too many beers it would worsen. His filter had also gone, words just spilled out of his mouth without thinking about it, more than usual. It's why one hand was on your thigh while his other arm was across the back of your chair, laughing at something his teammate said. Seth had no idea that your mind was currently spinning, his words on repeat.

'We should have this at our wedding'

He wasn't talking about his own wedding with some random girl. He was talking about yours. It didn't freak you out. It just wasn't something you expected Seth to say casually. Neither of you have discussed the future of your relationship, happy to just take it one step at a time.

"Is everything okay?" Seth asked, bringing you out of your inner though spiral. Everyone at the table were looking at you like they were waiting for an answer to a question someone asked you.

"Yeah, everything is great." You told him, hoping your smile didn't come across as forced. "I'm just going to grab us some water." You pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek before you got up to head to the bar.

Sebastian's wedding was beautiful, the reception hall was decorated enough that it wasn't over the top. There was an open bar which probably wasn't a good idea for a bunch of hockey players who were now on their summer break. Music flowed through the speakers as everyone danced on the dancefloor. The atmosphere was good, something you wanted at your own wedding. 'Damn Seth and his comment' you grumbled to yourself. You never had thoughts like this before but now they were creeping in thanks to your boyfriend.

"Is this because of what Seth said?" One of the girls asked, sliding next to you at the bar. You often sat near her on game day as she was the partner of one of Seth's teammates. "You know he meant it right? The guy is in love with you. All he talks about when they're on the road is how much he misses you."

You appreciated your friend was trying to make you feel better but the thoughts continued. The what ifs. You knew you had to have this conversation one day with Seth. The two of you have been dating for a couple of years now. You were just scared to, scared that it could ruin the dynamic, scared that you could lose the love of your life.

The spiraling thoughts followed you back to the hotel room and in bed as you laid next to Seth, facing him as he recounted the evening of fun he had with his teammates. You tried to make it look like you were focusing on every word that came out of his mouth but Seth noticed you were distracted. "Are you sure everything is okay?" He asked repeating the same question he asked earlier.

This was it. There was no hiding no matter how scared you were. You looked up at him, taking in every inch of your boyfriend. "Did you mean it? When you said 'our wedding' earlier." Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but Seth heard you.

"Of course I meant it." Seth scoffed as if you said the most ridiculous thing. "I can't imagine my life without you. Whenever I think about my future you're always there by my side."

"I'm sorry." You shook your head, realizing how stupid you must have sounded.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing. I guess I just assumed we were on the same page even though we never spoke about it before." He said. "I'm sorry I sprung it on you in the middle of the reception and freaking you out."

"You didn't freak me out, Seth." You assured him. "It threw me a little that's all. We've never spoken about marriage and the future before."

"Well I want to marry you." Seth admitted, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him. "Not any time soon but eventually. And I want to get a house with a garden where we can grow old together."

"I want that too." You grinned, your previous worries melting away with the kiss you pressed against his lips.

Seth deepened the kiss as your arms snaked around his neck and his hands fell to your hips. "I love you so much." He mumbled against your lips.

"I love you too."

#seth jarvis imagine #seth jarvis x reader #seth jarvis #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl imagine

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ladyescapism · 3 months

Text

Nothing - Azriel

summary: Azriel's mate will never see another Starfall.

a/n: Star Fall Week 2024! I was inspired by the third prompt from this post, but I wanted to change it to make it hurt more. I almost cried writing this so read at your own risk.

masterlist

warnings: terminal illness, death, suicidal thoughts

wc: 1,200

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

She put her dress on. It was a struggle, as it was most days. Everything from getting dressed, to eating, to talking was getting harder and harder.

Azriel had taken her to every healer in Prythian. None of them had any treatment, just ways to keep her comfortable until the end.

Everyone knew she was sick, but no one but Az and Thesan knew the prognosis. She didn’t know what was worse, leaving this world or leaving Azriel.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

She turned towards the voice in the door. Azriel stood there, looking dashing as ever in his black suit, only two siphons glowing. He let the love dance in his eyes, an attempt to hide the sorrow also present.

She had asked him not to mourn her till she was dead. But that seemed to be an impossible task.

“Thank you, darling.”

He walked over and took her face in his hands. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Her hands found his torso, feeling the corded muscle and breath there. His warmth spread to her cold fingers even through his clothing.

She pulled away. “Ready to go?”

He silently scooped her into his arms and walked to the balcony. The flight was quiet. Neither of them wanted to speak, lest the truth ruin the evening.

This would be her last Starfall.

Madja had told them last month. The illness had spread too far. She would be gone before year’s end.

The River House was decorated with lights and paper stars that she and shown Nyx how to make last week. The ball room was already crowded with attendees from every court. She could see Helion laughing with Lucien by the drinks. She saw Kallias and Vivienne with their daughter talking to Thesan.

The latter looked over and met her eyes. He said something to the Winter royals and began walking to them.

“Cousin,” he greeted on arrival. “I did not know if you would find the strength to join us.”

“Starfall is my favorite holiday,” she responded. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Thesan embraced her tightly. He was not an emotional male, but she knew that he loved her dearly.

The rest of the Inner Circle descended upon them. Within a few moments, both her and Azriel had drinks in their hands and were looped in on all conversations.

She didn’t know how long had passed before Rhys tapped a fork to his glass signaling that he wanted to speak.

“I will not keep your attentions long. However, Feyre and I have decided to take this opportunity with everyone gathered to make an announcement.”

The Inner Circle already knew but didn’t dare spoil it for everyone else.

“Feyre is pregnant with our second child.”

Joy spread through the room. Before it was over, the blue and green light began to dance across to sky.

She took ahold of Azriel’s arm and pulled him in to dance. In years past, he spun her around the dance floor in graceful waltz’s and twirled her till she couldn’t walk straight. Tonight, however, they simple held onto each other and swayed to the beat as the rest of the party buzzed.

She only released him to her High Lady, who had declared that she would dance with everyone on her Inner Circle that night.

She found her way onto a patio, hoping to get a moment alone.

Nesta found her a moment later.

They shared a glance. Their skirts brushed together when Nesta came to stand by her side.

“Are you having a good time,” she asked.

Nesta just looked at her, maintaining a stare that only she could. She just looked back, never balking from her greatest friend.

“You’re not getting better, are you,” she finally asked.

She couldn’t think of anything to say. Should she lie and protect Nesta’s peace for a long as she could? Or tell her the truth and let her friend live in worry and fear for the next few months.

“Don’t even try lying to me.”

Well then.

“No, I’m not getting better.”

Nesta was silent.

“How long?”

“How long have we known or how long do I have?”

Pain and shock radiated across Nesta’s face. “What,” she croaked out.

Tears finally fell from her eyes as she looked at her friend.

“Everything,” Nesta demanded. “Tell me everything.”

“There isn’t much to tell. There is nothing anyone can do.”

“No,” Nesta started.

“Nesta,” she interrupted. “This is not the time or the place. I will tell you more tomorrow.”

“No, tell me now.”

Her temper flared. “I do not want to spend my last Starfall arguing with you and explaining all the horribleness that is to come. Let’s just get inside and dance and drink and have fun, okay.”

When she turned back to the ballroom, her heart broke.

There it was. The perfect scene. Feyre was holding her son and she swayed to the music. Her mate was standing with his brothers, enjoying the sight, too. Morrigan was dancing her heart out. Amern was with Varian and Lucien was with Elaine and Thesan was with his lover. Everyone was smiling or laughing.

Everyone would be fine without her.

A sob racked through her chest before she could stop it. Nesta grabbed her arms as she fell to the floor and held her head to her chest.

“I don’t want to go,” she cried.

Thankfully, the door kept her crying unheard, but Azriel came to find her as soon as he felt her distress down the bond. Nesta slid her over to her mate and left them be.

“I don’t want to go, Az.”

“I know,” he soothed.

“I wanted more. I wanted more life with you.”

Azriel didn’t know what to say.

She had wanted to die a warrior’s death when she was young and had no one to live for. After Azriel, she wanted to grow old with him. She wanted children and grandchildren and to simply live more than she had.

She has asked Azriel not to mourn her till she died. She never considered that she would mourn herself and the life she never got to have.

Azriel took her home and put her to bed. There was no bargaining with the illness or with the Mother. She knew that and so did Azriel.

Solstice Night

They decided to not set a place for her. They all knew that there was a hole where she used to be, they didn’t need a spot next to a mourning mate to punctuate it.

They still talked and laughed and joked as they did before. Azriel still hadn’t managed a smile since her death. Joy seemed so foreign that he wouldn’t recognize its face, let alone invite it in.

Feyre had her second babe, another boy. He was new and perfect. Azriel had not held him yet. He could imagine infecting such purity with his agony.

Somehow, he found himself at the table with food on his plate. He ate the food before him, not caring what it was, just that it would get him through this night.

He didn’t feel anymore. There was the sadness. There was the anger. There was the longing. That ad all been delt with.

Cassian had held him as he cried for the first time in centuries. Rhys had let him punch and kick and scream his anger out. And he had made it thought the night where the longed to join her wherever she went.

He was now an empty male. He had no mate, no love, and no light.

Where she was, there was nothing. And that nothing would be where would spend the rest of his days.

tag list:

@feysandzoyalailover @fanfictioniseverything @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @singhillada @marina468 @acourtofbooksandshadows @kristeristerin @xcastawayherosx

#acotar #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #star fall week 2024

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nar-nia · 6 months

Text

decorating

jake x reader

word count: ~1k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy

~~~

“It's beginning to look a lot like christmas…” Jake was quietly singing along to the song on the radio as he rummaged through some cardboard boxes. You did the same, occasionally stealing glances of the smile on his face as he looked at item after item, placing some on the ground.

“I almost forgot about that!” His exciting voice made you look up at him again. He was holding a little snow globe, excitedly jumping over to you. “Remember? I gave it to you on-”

“Our third date,” you finished his sentence. “I do remember.”

“I was so nervous I almost let it fall,” he chuckled. “I can't believe it's already been six years since then.”

“Neither can I.” You smiled, softly shaking the little snow globe as you watched the snow dancing around. “But I think I knew I wanted you in my life right there.”

Jakes face was lit up by a broad smile, eyes sparkling with happiness as he pulled you closer, his lips connecting with your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you most.” You left a few kisses on his wrist before you hesitantly let go to divert your attention back to the box in front of you. “We haven't even started decorating and already got cheesy.”

“Oh and it will only get worse!” Jake declared, hopping back to his own box of christmas decorations. “I can't wait for it.”

You almost had to forcefully remove your eyes from looking at your husband to focus on the task at hand: decorating your home for christmas.

“A lot has happened since then too,” he spoke up after a while again. “We came far.“

“We did.” You started smiling again. “We got married, got a house…”

“Got a family.”

“You’ve always been my family.” You felt yourself tear up a bit. “Didn't we want to decorate?”

“Six years and you still try to change the subject when you're about to cry,” he smiled. “Let me help you then.”

He went back over to you, simply bringing his cardboard box along. Sitting down he grabbed your hand, his thumb drawing soft circles on it, while he used his other to hold up some items he found.

“Will we put up the Christmas village again?”

“Hmm...” You hesitated. “I would love that but last year Layla almost destroyed it.”

“I still don't know what made her so angry,” Jake chuckled. “Maybe the porcelain cat you put there?”

“Maybe.” You brought his hand up, pressing another small kiss onto it. “Let's just place it somewhere high enough this time.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“You're perfect,” you grinned, making an attempt to stand up.

“Ah ah,” Jake shook his head. “Let me help you with that. No hard work for you.”

“I just want to get up, Jake. As far as I know you can still do that while pregnant.” You couldn't hold back a laugh, but somehow you kept sitting down.

“We wouldn't want to risk it.” He grinned at you, grabbing both of your hands to pull you up. You didn't have the heart to tell him that this made it even harder to get up, because eventually you still managed and were standing on your own two feet.

“Tell me again why we didn't just sit down on the couch?”

“Because you complained that our little baby boy won't let you bend down to grab a box from the floor.”

“... Maybe.” You grinned back. “But I have you for that.”

“Yes you do, my love.” He pulled you closer for a soft kiss before he looked at you expectantly. Your heart started fluttering when he did, love threatening to overwhelm you. “So what do you want me to do.”

Oh right - you had a house to decorate.

“Uhm…” You tried to gather your thoughts. “The Christmas village.”

“Right,” he smiled. “Let me start with that.”

Another kiss on your cheek and he diverted his attention to a small plank of wood. He had built it two years ago, decorating it with fake snow so you had the perfect underground for the tiny porcelain houses. They were gifts from your grandparents, every year there was a new edition, and he still remembered the moment he made you that piece of wood. You had gotten lots of presents that day, but this somehow made you the happiest - and in return, him too.

He carefully set everything up on a bookshelf, making sure that Layla couldn't reach it while listening to your orders. It was a peaceful atmosphere, both of you enjoying the way your home got more and more in the Christmas spirit. After the little village he put up some Christmas lights, softly humming along to the songs on the radio again.

“A bit higher,” you smiled, hands motioning how you wanted the lights to be. “To the left!”

You were silent for a second before the giggle you had tried to hold in finally broke free. “The other left, Jake.”

“Oh.” With your help he managed to hang it up just in time when it got slowly dark outside. “Should we light it up?”

You nodded, eyes sparkling in awe when you saw the final result. “It's so pretty.”

“Almost as pretty as you, love,” Jake mumbled, stepping next to you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer towards him as his lips connected with your temple. “Now it feels like Christmas.”

“Oh- almost!” You almost flinched, getting out of Jakes embrace to rush into the kitchen. “I can't believe I almost forgot about it.”

“About what?” Jake followed you as you grabbed two mugs from the shelf, filling it with something he couldn't see before you warmed it up.

"Hot chocolate!” You turned around with a grin, holding one mug towards your husband. “It fits perfectly, don't you think?”

His face was lit up by a smile as he grabbed the mug from you, his other arm wrapping around your waist again. “Everything about this is perfect.”

He felt your head on his shoulder as you both looked at the room, now tinted in a beautiful golden shine. “I love you.”

Jake softly pressed his lips against your hair, his eyes closing for a second to take it all in. “I love you most.”

~~~

yup, it's really me 🙈 i went missing for so long but wow, life can be exhausting sometimes. especially if your job requires you to get up at 1am. anyway, i hope you liked this little start to a christmas series. if yes (and if no) feedback is always appreciated 🩷

find the other stories here.

permanent taglist: @maeum-your @suneonu @soobin-chois @sjyuniverse @taekbokki

#jake enhypen #enhypen #jake sim #jake enhypen fanfic #jake enhypen fanfiction #jake enhypen oneshot #jake enhypen x reader #jake sim fanfic #jake sim fanfiction #jake sim oneshot #jake sim x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen oneshot #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #jake sim fluff #jake enhypen fluff

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dckweed · 4 months

Text

ROSES ARE RED, RESERVATIONS ARE EXPENSIVE, YOU'RE LUCKY I FUCKIN' LOVE YOU, gator & pearlie

summary: just a little valentines blurb for our love bugs Gator and Pearlie, a day late lmao

warnings: fluff, mentions/allusions to sex, pregnant!reader, reader referred to as pearl or pearlie extremely minimal use of y/n, gator being sweet on valentines day

series masterlist

Almost a year you and Gator had been married, and it already felt like a lifetime, but in the greatest of ways. Your little craftsman house was just buzzing with life in the past seven months, your little sisters moving in with the two of you after Gator had taken care of things with their father. You were like your own little family, school pick up and drop offs, sports and music lessons, family suppers most nights of the week. Gator would sit dutifully and help with their homework, and even downloaded games onto his Xbox to play with them and it had become your favorite weekend morning ritual to hear the three of them animatedly going about it sprawled on the living room floor, bowls of cereal haphazardly forgotten about on the coffee table.

The holidays had been fun too, Gator had dressed up with you guys as the characters from Scooby-Doo on Halloween, even going as far as to take Freddie to the groomers and have them dye his fur to look like Scooby. For Thanksgiving, he taught your sisters about football while you cooked an entire meal for your small group, his dad and Karen having spent the holiday with her parents, he even lead everyone in going around the table to say what they were thankful for, which you thought was so adorable. And Christmas? He went all out. Overboard, even. The inside of the house was all you, though he had dutifully helped you pick out a big thick Douglas Fir to fit right next to your front window, and he had helped you decorate it with your sisters, scooping both girls up even though they were much too big for it so they could both put the angel on top of the tree. He had then wrangled them outside to help him set up the yard decorations that he had spent an ungodly amount of money on just so he could make you your own winter wonderland in the front yard.

New Years had been one hell of a party, your sisters knocking out just as the clock struck midnight. You and Gator had shared a kiss and even a slow dance to ring in the new year before he looked down at the girls with his hands on his hips. You had told him to just leave them, let them sleep on the couch, but he had carries them to bed anyway, his back muscles and biceps flexing. Something about watching him be a Dad to your sisters was so mesmerizing, and maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was because your husband was just so damn hunky, but neither of you got any sleep that night as you made a compete mess of the living room couch and floor..and even the kitchen table.

You refused to call the Superbowl a holiday, something that almost cause a rift in your home as Gator had your sisters on their sides, but nonetheless you still hosted a bunch of his highschool and work buddies. You and a few of the wives and girlfriends had gotten started talking about valentines day, especially the ones with kids who has been given lists of things for class room parties (you had yet to see a magical list but you were sure it would appear soon), which caused the guys to start talking about how annoying and unnecessary Valentines day was, among the voices you heard your own husband say something about how manly it was.

Which was why you were surprised to wake up on February the 14th to a bouquet of roses on the pillow next to your head. You hadn't even mentioned Valentines day to Gator, let alone dropped hints. You figured you'd save the big show of love and appreciation for your anniversary in June. You groan as you sit up, racing to your feet to once you catch sight of the time on your alarm clock, you run to the girls' room, they were an hour late getting up, school started in ten minutes. You had your fist raised to knock on the door when you noticed a piece of paper taped to it, Gator's messy scrawl on it.

You rip it from the door and hold it in your hands as you read it. 'Pearlie, hope you liked the flowers, took the girls to school so you could sleep in a bit..be back soon- G'

You could have sworn Gator said he had to work today. Confused, you shuffle back to your bedroom, making up your bed as neatly as you could, the white and red heart shaped duvet covering the entire king sized mattress. You rearranged the pillows too before grabbing the bouquet and shuffling back down the hallway, to the kitchen.

You're filling a pretty pink vase with water and trimming the ends of the flowers when the front door opens. "Baby, is that you?" Roy had made a habit of just walking into your home here lately, and the last time he'd done it you'd been naked, trying to surprise your husband.

You squeal loudly when large, warm arms encircle you, pulling you back against a chest as hands make their way to your slowly rounding belly. "Happy Valentines, pearlie girl.." He murmurs, kissing under your ear gently, you can feel the smile on his face as you tilt your head to the side, making more room for his lips to work.

"Thought Valentines wasn't manly?" You breathed, eyes closing briefly as his lips brushed over the spot where your shoulder meets your neck, where you seem to be sporting a constant love bite here lately.

He grins against your skin, rocking in place with you. "S'not." He whispers, turning you around slowly in his arms so that he can plant sweet little kisses all over your face. "Just want to show my girl how much i love her..that so wrong?" You can't help giggle at his words, knowing that he showed you more than enough love every day.

You open your mouth to tease him when he catches your lips with his own, a slow, deep kiss, all tongue and sweetness that leaves you whimpering when he pulls away from you. "I got you somethin' baby.." He says, voice still quiet even though you're the only ones in the house.

"I know baby, they were beauti-oh!" From somewhere behind him, the back pocket of his jeans you think, he pulls out a small velvet box and opens it. "Gator! Baby.."

Inside of the box was a beautiful gold necklace in the shape of a G, inlaid with a bunch of dazzling diamonds. Your eyes watered as you looked at it. "Aw hell," He breathes, the corners of his lips quirking up in a smile as he watches your reaction. You had been doing that alot lately, and he knew you couldn't help it, hormones and all that. He thought it adorable though, that you turned into a cry baby over the smallest of things. "Had the girls go in with me to pick it out a couple weeks ago..we stopped and picked it up on the way to school this mornin'.."

He took it out of the box and unclasped the chain, placing it securely around your neck, a loving smile on his face as he did. Immediately your hand was on it, fingers gliding over the letter. His eyes were drawn to your nails, he had remembered you saying you got them done yesterday but didn't remember looking at them to compliment you on your choice. "You get these for today?" He asks, taking hour hand in his. You nod as he brings your fingers up to his lips kissing them gingerly before kissing the knuckle above your wedding ring. "The little red hearts are cute..d'i wana know how much they cost?" He didn't care, he loved to keep your hands looking pretty, loved the way your manicured nails looked when they were wrapped around his own hand, or his cock..

You shake your head at his words, wiping away the tears with the other hand as you remember what was in your nightstand drawer. "Wait, hold on I'll be right back!" You say, rushing off in a hurry.

"You sick or somethin'?" He follows you quickly, making sure you didn't need his help. You hadn't had morning sickness in nearly a month, he was hoping you were past it, and he was relieved to find you bent over the drawer of your nightstand, your silky white shorts giving him a perfect view of your ass. "Bab- oh hon you didn't have to get nothin' for me..this day is about you.."

You shake your head, bouncing excitedly. "No baby, it's to celebrate love..its for both of us!" You exclaim, taking the lid off of the small box in your hand. He gasps when he sees it, and you can't help but grin.

"Pearl, baby.." It was a black watch, metal. The clockface was silver, a cold color despite the deep black you had chosen. You didn't know much about watches, but you knew that he liked them, and you knew that this was a nice one.

"Flip it over.." He does as you say as he takes it out of the box, his eyebrows furrowing as he reads the inscription on the watch case. "Forever your Valentine..'

He takes the old watch off to slip the new one on, it's a perfect fit. "I fuckin' love you baby.." He pulls you into a kiss by the back of your head, his large hand holding you firmly in place as your hands find purchase on his broad chest. "I have one more surprise okay?"

You pout, eyebrows furrowed.

"Need you t'dress real fuckin pretty for me tonight baby," You pout even harder this time, tears coming to your eyes. Did you not look pretty all the time? What did he mean? As if he could read your mind his face changes and he immediately starts wiping your tears. "Ah ah, baby, you know I don't mean it like that..you're always lookin' real pretty for me babygirl, but tonight I need you to look extra fuckin' nixe..takin you to that place in the city.."

You squeal and jump in your place, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist as you kiss his face repeatedly. You catch him off guard but he still puts his hands under your ass, supporting you. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You chant excitedly, arms wrapped tightly around him. He hoped to have you chanting that later tonight too, in a different way, preferably followed by his name. He can't help but grin at the thought as you jump off of him, running over to your closet as you try to find an outfit that even fits your barely there baby bump, but still looked sexy.

"Rose's are red, reservations are expensive, you're lucky I fuckin' love you!" Gator rhymes horribly just so he can hear your giggle from the depths of Narnia that you call a closet.

"I love you too baby!"

taglist:

@ruth-barnes @justherebecausesafarisucks @daisy-is-a-writer @xxbookdrunkdemigodxx @girlwiththerubyslippers @keerygal @lilllbabyyy @boa-hemian @sweetdazequeen @emilyj444 @whisperingwillowxox @babyqnn @lou-la-lou @aestheticaltcow @finalmoondragon @boxofsmittens @pollyspocketdimension @kassy-munson @frostandflamesfanfic @mysticalstar30 @totally-bogus-timelady @nerdypinupcrystal @emmiecrush5-blog @witchcovenboys @starksbabie @marrowfrog00 @boop369 @lelenikki @xmalfoyweasleyx @girlwiththerubyslipper

#kara writes #gator tillman x you #gator fargo #gator tillman #gator tillman fic #gator tillman smut #joe keery #gator tillman fanfic #fargo season 5

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xplr-sturns-e-m · 2 months

Text

That Boy Is Mine|| Matthew Sturniolo x Reader

Part One-

Warning: Suggestive Content, 18+

Your POV-

Your hands find a comfortable spot resting in your lap as you lean back against the comfortable couch that decorated the triplets living room. The tension in the room could've been cut with a knife as Matt entered the house with his girlfriend Amanda. Amanda was a nice girl, long blonde hair and green eyes. She stood at about five foot two inches tall and she was the size of a Victoria's Secret model. Perfect down to each beauty mark on the skin of her arms.

Nick didn't like Amanda and neither did you. Chris was well…Chris. Usually too oblivious to give a fuck. Nick looked at you sitting next to him and you looked at him letting out a snort as the two of you shared a look of distaste as if to say ‘ew look whos here’.

You’d be lying if you said that this hatred for Amanda didn’t stem from pure jealousy of who she was dating. You and the triplets had been friends since they moved to LA years ago and meeting Matt felt like meeting the missing piece to your broken heart. You however, never had the guts to admit such feelings for the man and with their growing popularity and party going, it wasn't long before Matt had found someone to call his own. This shouldn't have been anything but good, and you felt bad not being able to fully support your friend in their relationship. The thought of him laying that girl down in the confines of those silk sheets, ones you used to lay in when you’d spend the night here. The way his hands trailed down to rest on the small of her back as he escorted her through parties or public places, just as he used to do for you.

“Matty! You didn't tell me she was gonna be here” the girls voice felt like a knife to your eardrums. You didn't get along with Amanda because she didn't like how close you and Matt were.

“I did tell you, she's hanging with us today” Matt said, sternly his eyebrows furrowed together as the two stood by the kitchen island. “Well why does she always need to be here” Amanda asked, crossing her arms.

“I can go” you speak up, raising an eyebrow at the two as you lean forward to see them more clearly from your seat on the couch

“No angel, you can stay,” Matt said with a smile.

God did you love that nickname, the way he looked at you and didnt care what Amanda thought about it.

“Mattyyyy” the girl whined.

Nick seemed to have had enough as well and stood up.

“Lets go upstairs before my ears bleed” Nick said

You let out a laugh, following the boy up the stairs.

Matts POV-

The distance had grown between me and Y/N since I started seeing Amanda.It was understandable, she’d always been respectful enough to not cross any boundaries with me but not being able to have alone time with her like we used to seemed to be affecting me more than I had the strength to admit. Watching her walk upstairs with Nick sucked, as if the distance between me and her was only growing. I let out a groan, running my hands through my hair.

“Amanda, you can't get mad everytime Y/N is over here. I told you when we got together that she's my best friend and if you can't respect that then we can't be together” Matt said.

“Well I just don't see why she needs to be around so often” Amanda sighed

“It's always been like this, before I ever met you. I'm not gonna make her leave just because you can't deal with her” matt scoffed

“Matty, I just think it's so weird but whatever” Amanda said, her hands trailing down his chest.

Your POV-

It was later in the evening, the noise of Nick’s tv on the highest volume was giving you a headache but it was better than hearing the moans of Amanda coming from Matt's room.

“How does he put up with that…jesus she's so loud and annoying” You say

“Beats me, a straight man will do anything to get laid” Nick said

“Fucking grosses me out thinking about it” you say, shaking your head.

“So there's a Tara party this weekend and Matt is bringing Amanda and I figured you could come with me and Chris, be our sexy little date” Nick teased. “You know i'd be down, we can go shopping for a dress because I wanna look hot” you say

“What's your obsession with making Amanda jealous over you and matt's friendship” Nick asked

“I just love how annoyed she gets because Matts never gonna make me go away in order to please her,” you say with a smirk.

The moaning from matt's room soon stopped and for that, Nick and you were grateful. Nick fell asleep around 3 in the morning, leaving you wide awake laying next to him. You pry yourself from the man's bed and sigh, adjusting your shorts and tank top before heading downstairs to grab some water from the kitchen. Matt came down not moments after you, his presence entering the kitchen behind you.

“So happy you are getting laid but do me a favor and tell your girlfriend to stop acting like she's in a porno” you say, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

Matt let out a frustrated huff, his eyes rolling at the comment as you turned to face him, the tent in his sweatpants pulling some of your attention.

“Okay not to be nosey but after sex arent you supposed to be less stressed?” You ask him, earning a raspy chuckle from the man.

“I think it depends on if you finish or not” he said, his blue eyes glazed in lust staring at you.

“So she's not good at sex, her voice makes ears bleed, and she hates me…so what exactly do you see in her?” you ask, leaning against the counter.

“I don't really want to talk about her” he said, taking a step towards you, his arm grabbing yours

“What's with you being so weird and distant?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

“Wouldn't want your sex toy getting uncomfy” you say, pulling away from him.

“Don't be like that Angel” he said sweetly.

You send him a soft smile “goodnight Matt” you send him a wink before pushing past him and out of the kitchen.

He groans, the tent in his pants becoming more uncomfortable as he watches you walk up the stairs. If only he could have had you in the way he wanted without the consequences.

#matt sturniolo #fanfic #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic

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familyvideostevie · 2 years

Note

steve fic request!

set in the future when they’re married, steve is (irrationally) worried about being a good father (due to his own fraught relationship with his parents). just some fluff as reader reassures him pls.

thanks!! <3

here you go, dove! thank you for waiting, i hope it's what you wanted, i tried to focus on that fluff and reassurance! i love steve, he'd be a great dad < 3 | 1.6k, fem!reader, fluff, cw: vague discussion of steve's parents being neglectful, talk of having children in general

You stare at the ceiling from where you lay on Steve's chest to avoid catching sight of the boxes, halfway unpacked suitcases, and fresh sheets scattered around the bedroom. Steve's hand strokes up lazily up and down your arm. You can feel the cool metal of his wedding band every so often, which makes you smile. You didn't know you could feel this happy. Married for over a month, and it hasn't faded. Most days you think it never will.

The fall wedding was sweet and small, and afterwards you drove up and down the East Coast to catch the leaves turning. There are so many things to be done now that you're home, in your own house no less. You bypassed the boxes and attempted to start on your luggage, but you got as far as washing and drying your sheets before you both collapsed on the unmade bed.

"Being an adult is weird as shit," Steve says. You bark out a laugh. "Seriously, babe, we're like, almost 30."

"Not quite, Steve," you chastise. "Don't rush us!"

"Well, it's weird. We have a house. We're married. We have to decorate." He says the last one like it's tart in his mouth. "We have to go back to Hawkins this week to pick up some stuff we forgot from your parents." You decided to leave the apartment you'd been sharing in Hawkins behind, settling an hour or so away. Close enough that you can go back anytime, since neither of you think you'll ever really shake it after everything, but far enough that it feels like your own world.

"We'll have to go at the weekend since we both have to do this adult thing called work." Your hand rests flat on Steve's chest, and you give him a little pat as if to get up, but his hold on you tightens.

"Don't remind me. I don't want to talk about real life yet."

"This is the life, Steve," you grin. "It's our life. Can you believe it?" Your voice sounds a little breathless. You tilt your head up at Steve, your husband, and he meets you for a tender kiss. You've kissed thousands of times by now, but each one with rings on your fingers feels special. You lapse back into silence, content to be close to Steve like this as long as you can, even if the bed does need to get made at some point.

"I miss the kids," Steve whispers. He sighs.

"They're not really kids anymore," you reply, keeping your words soft. "They're in college, spreading out, growing up. Just like us!" Steve grunts in reply. "I miss them, too," you reassure him.

He plays with the fingers of your left hand where they rest on his chest, ghosting over your wedding band. You feel the mood shift, feel him start to gather his thoughts for a serious conversation. You let him take his time.

"I'm so glad we got married because it doesn't feel like it changed much, you know?" he starts. You could tease him a little for this, but know that he's getting to something important, something he needs you to hear.

"I think so, but tell me more anyway."

"Well," he continues, "we've been living together for a million years, I've loved you for even longer, and now we just have a piece of paper to prove it."

"And a house, Steve," you say with fondness and a little bit of awe.

"And a house." He sighs again and gently shifts you both onto your sides, so you're face-to-face. You scoot back a little to see him more clearly.

"What's this about, Stevie?" you whisper, bringing your hand to stroke his cheek, just once. The touch seems to give him courage.

"Do you think I'd be a good dad?" he croaks. You don't try to hide your surprise. You've talked about having kids, often and with enthusiasm, albeit a few years down the line. But you've managed not to touch on this part of it.

"Steve," you say, breathless, hand cupping his jaw this time. You are desperate to reassure him, to squash the insecurity in his eyes. "Steve, of course you'll be a good dad. Shit, sweetheart, you have been a good dad."

He sighs at your words but closes his eyes, scrunching his nose like he's about to sneeze. "I dont... I've been thinking about it. Now that we've started a new life for ourselves. Just all the ways I can fuck it up."

"Steve," you whisper. "Look at me, please." He opens his eyes and they're glistening just a little. It makes you ache to see him like this, to see him doubting and hurting. "What's got you worried?"

"I just don't know how I'll love them right, you know?" He sniffles a little, turning his head so your thumb drags down over his lips. His breath is hot on your skin as he continues. "I'm worried all I know how to do is what my parents did and that's not nearly enough. It's not what our kids would deserve, or what you deserve."

"Steve Harrington," you say firmly. "I want you to listen to me." You wiggle closer, shrinking the space between you again as you tangle your legs with his, hand still firm on this face, the other coming to rest on his heart. "I hear you, baby, and I get it. It's so hard to shake the shit that we get from our parents and our families and our pasts. And you have more than most of us. But I'll be damned if I've met a man more caring, more loving, more self-sacrificing than you." Steve doesn't look away from you, though his mouth starts to curl at the edges because you sound so determined to make him listen.

"You were so quick to give your life for those kids back when they were kids," you continue, "and you loved them immediately because that's what you do Steve. You love people with everything you have."

"S'why you married me, yeah?" He's aiming for a joking tone, but it comes out a bit raw. You nod.

"One of the millions of things I love about you. But listen to me, and this is the important part."

"Getting out my notepad," he jokes. You pinch his cheek gently but continue.

"It's so hard when we don't get the love we are owed from the people who are meant to give it to us, but it's even harder to choose to be so full of love anyway and to give it away so freely. To be as good as you, Stevie. You love those kids and they love you and that will exist for the rest of your life. You love me and I love you and that will exist for...for the rest of eternity." You feel your own eyes start to well as you keep going. You just need him to know this.

"You will love any children we have through space and time and all the rest, until the world ends, Steve," you finish. Steve's own hand comes to your cheek to swipe away a tear. You brush away its twin as it drips down his own nose.

"Pretty big promises, baby," he breathes. "But how can I argue with those pretty words? What would I do without you?"

"Cry less, maybe," you croak out.

"More," he says. "I'd be missing so much." His eyes pour over your face as if he's memorizing it, as if he's drinking you in and can't get enough.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you ask. He's nodding immediately.

"Anything."

"I'm scared too," you admit. "To be a parent." Steve knows your baggage, and he's always loved you through it, with it, because of it. "No one is perfect, but--"

"You're as close as it gets," he interrupts. You hush him, giggling a little.

"No one is a perfect parent, no one is a perfect child, but if there's one thing you know how to do, Steve, it's love. And I think as long as we do that, we'll figure it out." Steve pulls you to his chest again and rolls onto his back, where you started.

"It'll be hard, but we'll do it together." He takes a deep breath and you rise and fall on his chest. "Parenting can't be harder than a freaky alternate dimension full of shit that wants to kill us." You laugh again, feeling warm and fuzzy. You shift up to his ear, your lips almost on his skin.

"You're going to be a great father, Steve."

"Yeah I--thank you. I believe you." He turns his head to brush his nose against yours, hand finding your ring again to trace it with his fingers. "I'm so lucky to call you my wife."

"My husband," you whisper. He shivers a little. "My Stevie. Love you so much." You kiss the first part of him you can reach, your lips landing somewhere on his brow, before settling back on his chest. You are reveling in the sweetness of this moment, of all of the moments before, and all of the ones to come. Life is hard -- you both know that for certain -- but you can't help but look forward to all of it because you've got Steve with you.

"I can't believe we have to unpack all of our shit still," your husband groans. You smile into his shirt, overcome with how much you love him.

"Tomorrow," you say. Right now, you want to put fresh sheets on the bed only to dirty them again right away. You want to kiss this man silly. "We have tomorrow."

"Thank christ for that," Steve says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both! reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

#i am not totally happy with it but i need to stop noodling!#thank you for waiting for this #let me know what you think!#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steeb #anon ask #emma’s asks

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scarlettjohanssons-mistress · 1 year

Note

Henry Cavill and Reader decorating for Christmas and reader making it special for both Henry and Kal💝🙏

Merry Christmas

Warnings: PURE fluff

Word count: 0.7 K

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Fem!Reader

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Actors and actresses masterlist]

Moving to the other side of the world; More specifically, moving to the UK to live next door to my boyfriend Henry was extremely difficult, but now that I had to spend my first Christmas holidays away from home, it was doubly difficult.

Yes, of course, I was madly and completely in love with that man, that did not change the complications of living in a completely different society, now, it was necessary to add the complications of living and being a couple, with one of the most handsome and sought-after actors in the world…

Yep, my life is complicated.

A few kisses on my shoulder made me come out of my thoughts. I turned on my shoulders only to meet those sleepy blue eyes.

"Good morning" the man yawned.

"Good morning handsome" it was my turn to yawn and scratch my right eye, causing a small laugh from the man.

"What day is today?"

With my right hand I patted the table next to me to take my cell phone and unlock it.

“December 12, do you know what it means?”

"Than?"

"It's Christmas shopping day," I crooned.

The man only released a tired sigh, causing laughter on my part.

"Is it completely necessary for me to go?"

“My love, you have to be kidding. It's the first time I'll spend the holidays with your family. We have to impress them with their gifts and decorations.”

I got up from the bed, and tried to take his hand, trying to lift him up.

"Baby" he pulled me, hugging my waist and making me lie down on his body "You don't need to impress them, you just need to be as perfect as you always are"

———————————————————————————

Although Christmas Eve was still twelve days away, the malls were packed with people, making shopping much more difficult than on other days. If we were lucky to find what we were looking for thanks to the huge shortage of stores, there were long lines that made a 30 minute stay, become a two hour one, and if someone recognized Henry, that stay could last up to three or four hours, before someone from security could help us to our car.

"Honey, is all this really necessary?"

While Henry was well known for his muscular arms, the number of bags full of Christmas decorations, gifts, and even my own tote bag cradled in his arms made his muscles tired, causing him to be slumped over in his chair of the local, while I watched the ugly sweaters for him and me.

“Honey, it is more than evident that it is necessary”

I managed to hear how he let out a big snort, causing my laughter

"Baby. I don't even understand why we need so many things to decorate, it's not necessary so many things”

Wearily, I rolled my eyes and turned to see his face, a smile on his face.

"You are very lucky to have me, my love, otherwise you would be known as the Grinch"

——————————————————————————

Christmas came long before Henry and I could process it, and with it, the snowfall that hit London, meaning that neither Henry's family could get to our house, nor that we could leave the house, causing us to have to spend christmas alone

Oh, and it also caused me to spend the last 10 days sick, barely able to do anything, leaving the decorations in Henry's hands.

Thank the universe, today I already felt much better, making me simply have to shower and get ready. Only to come downstairs and realize that Henry had barely put a few things on the tree.

"Henry!"

The man came out of the kitchen, his suit well protected by an apron, while he heated up our dinner.

"What's the matter?"

"What did I ask you to do?"

"Decorate?"

"And you think this is decorating?"

With my hand, I pointed at the tree, causing Henry to let out a nervous laugh.

"I guess not… I'm sorry"

Kal's barking and entrance interrupted him, causing my eyes to flick from his blue orbs to our big baby, only to realize, poor Kal was only wearing his 'The Witcher' sweater and not his Christmas sweater.

"Oh my poor baby" I crouched down, stroking his back "Your father wasn't able to dress you properly?"

"Shhh!"

"Don't worry, we are going to turn this into a real home"

Before Henry went back to the kitchen, I grabbed a ball from Kal and threw it at his head, causing him to laugh.

"Come, I will teach you how to turn your house into a real home"

He quickly turned off the stove, dropped the apron, and ran to my side to begin decorating the tree.

Note:

I had planned to publish this on the 24th, but I was very late, sorry

I hope you enjoy it

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

taglist: @littlebitchsposts // @xxsekhmet

message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!

#henry cavill #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fandom

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batrachised · 11 months

Note

So looking forward to hearing your commentary on The Blue Castle!!!

It’s been interesting reading it in small chunks. I think I’ve only ever read it in 1-2 sittings before and it’s such a different experience!

AHHH I logged on to so many beautiful posts, it's like an LM Montgomery Christmas :D

I've been traveling so I'm only reading the chapter now, but I'm already sobbing. The first line, sobbing. I love how LM Montgomery begins this book so much - it's wry, it's hopeful, and it immediately sets the setting. I also love how in a book that's all about seizing your own destiny, it acknowledges the role of chance.

If it had not rained on a certain May morning Valancy Stirling’s whole life would have been entirely different. She would have gone, with the rest of her clan, to Aunt Wellington’s engagement picnic and Dr. Trent would have gone to Montreal. But it did rain and you shall hear what happened to her because of it.

The phrase "Valancy Stirling's whole life would have been entirely different" sticks in my head. Without spoiling the book, we know Valancy's life turns out differently as implied in the very first line - but now, in the first chapter, we see how miserable it would have been. And sure, it's due to <xyz spoiler> and <xyz spoiler>, but it's also due to the rain.

This chapter focuses quite a lot on choice, in fact; namely, Valancy's lack of it. She didn't choose to be an old maid, although she doesn't find it the worst fate in the world (despite dreams of Romance with a capital R). And this lack of choice is what hurts so much. No choice in marriage, no choice in career, not even a choice in room decoration. On top of that, she has to deal with a mother with "mosquito like" questions (brilliant description) and a family who has no respect for her. I think that's the particularly brutal combination LM Montgomery throws at you: Valancy is neither loved nor respected. In fact, the single bright point in her life (besides John Foster books)? Well:

The only thing Valancy liked about her room was that she could be alone there at night to cry if she wanted to.

This line just gets to me. It is brutal in its single line of despair. I think everyone has had moments where the only thing they've got going for them is that they can cry themselves to sleep. I've written before that LM Montgomery paints such an effective picture of despair in this chapter that it's difficult to read. One of the reasons it's so effective is because it's so realistic. She grounds it in little cutting details that are painfully realistic and unfortunately, true. Yes, drab and unattractive women usually are unpopular. Yes, spinsters can be the mockery of society. Yes, being surrounding by ugliness--more than that, unhominess, in a room unwelcoming--when you're already lonely is an imprisonment of sorts. Yes, family can be Like That.

It's as if LM Montgomery took all her power at bestowing magic in ordinary things (ala Anne) and reversed it to force us to look at the sheer ugliness of living. Instead of a house with green gables and shy but loving farmer, you have an ugly dog painting and a mother who is horribly ashamed of her daughter's mediocrity. Instead of a twinkling cast of cranky characters who grow to love our heroine because of her pluck (ala Mrs. Lynde, Mr. Harrison), we have a cast who condescendingly mocks the main character because she's not found to be worthy of respect or interest. And instead of a dreamy heroine who will charm her way into anyone's heart with her whimsy, we have a (outwardly) quiet, dull woman who doesn't even have an enemy. LM Montgomery uses all her usual tricks at painting homey scenes with a single stroke of a pen, except instead of coziness, it's loneliness. And it's strikingly effective.

That's the other thing about this chapter I love: its one liners. From the humorous:

And Valancy had long ago decided that she would rather offend God than Aunt Wellington, because God might forgive her but Aunt Wellington never would

To the cutting:

It was permissible, even laudable, to read to improve your mind and your religion, but a book that was enjoyable was dangerous.

Just...AAAAAAAHHHH. It's too good!!

#the blue castle #blue castle book club

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thenationaltreasuregazette · 6 months

Note

Hi, I was wondering how do you imagine the Team Treasure spending Christmas? Who cooks, who decorates the house, who dresses up as Santa?

Holiday Hijinks, Angst Edition

Hi @thesere1418!

Thanks so much for your question! Let’s have some holiday fun.

Right off the bat I’m going to divide this into ‘pre-treasure hunt’ and ‘post-treasure hunt’ Christmases, because they’ll look very different and I think the contrast will be useful and full of angst, muahaha.

What follows is 100% pure headcanon and conjecture. I have no source for any of this other than I feel like it : )

A Pre-Treasure Christmas

I think it’s important that we start here because before the events of National Treasure, our four heroes are all living isolated, solitary lives to varying degrees.

Angst & headcanons ↓

Ben

Ben spends his pre-treasure hunt Christmases, well, treasure hunting. I imagine that the holidays don’t factor much into the way he lives his life. He pours over books and old archive records for hours and days at a time. He eats frozen meals and fast food, takeout when he can afford it. He’s not one to decorate his apartment, because he’s not home that often. He can spend weeks at a time away on salvage dives, or off in New York or Boston or Paris searching for Charlotte’s whereabouts. If he is at home, he might have one or two sentimental decorations that belonged to his grandfather that he’ll put out. The remind Ben of early Christmases as John’s house.

At some point over the holidays Ben has to visit his mother. Emily seems like the kind of person who puts on a classy Christmas party, maybe not on the day itself, but sometimes around it. She has her professor friends over for wine and an a delightfully pretentious selection of cheeses. It’s a great time, if you like parties that come with their own subscription to The New Yorker. Ben is always invited and he has two options: attend and know that every other guest thinks he’s a crackpot, or disappoint his mother. Neither is great. Sometimes he’s conveniently out of the country. Sometimes he toughs it out. If he can, Ben visits her on the actual holiday instead. Then it’s just a quiet dinner with a few close friends and the guy she’s seeing, if there is one. If he’s out of the country he always calls.

On Christmas itself—or maybe Christmas Eve. Ben feels like a Christmas Eve person to me—he puts on an old record and splurges on some real takeout, Chinese or Thai. It’s that and a beer and another late, lonely night reading through ship manifests and learning about arctic weather patterns.

If you live in a world where Book of Secrets does not exists, then Ben’s mother probably hangs over the holiday like a fondly remembered ghost. He was quite young when she died, but the memories he has of her are dear to him, as are the traditions that come with them. If she made the best fruit cake in town, then Ben finds himself wandering into the bakery or that one and sampling the wares, never finding one that tastes quite the way he remembers it. If she had a favorite decoration, maybe a ceramic angel tree topper with delicate lace wings, Ben always finds a prominent place to display it, even if it’s the only thing he puts out.

What about being “cavalier in [his] personal life,” you say? Never a Christmas girlfriend? Sure, maybe once or twice. But Christmas with the family is a big step, one I think Ben would be reticent to take. Although he’s apparently going around telling at least two “someones” that he loves them, I think deep down Ben knows none of these relationships are as important as his one true love, Charlotte and the Templar treasure. He tries his best to get out of it. If he can’t, well, I imagine he’s his usual completely normal self and I’m sure that’s a big hit with some unsuspecting family.

Abigail

Abigail’s pre-treasure Christmas is the least isolated of any of them, but she might rather trade with Ben honestly. Her holidays start by suffering through the office Christmas party. Stan has too much eggnog and hits on her while her assistant does her best to run interference, and Abigail pretends to like coworkers she barely knows during an awkward secret santa. Then, after a brief stop at home to change and collect her already meticulously packed suitcase and meticulously wrapped gifts, its time to drive to wherever her family lives. I’m feeling Connecticut. So she drives to CT to her favorite Christmas jazz CD. She likes the quiet hours in the car.

Then the Christmas chaos sets it. I don’t imagine Abigail comes from an especially large family, it’s her mother and step-father, her brother, his wife, and her two grade-school-age nephews. I also headcanon that she has an older sister who moved back to Germany, but more on that some other time. Abigail arrives a day or two early to help with the preparations, and that’s one of her favorite parts. She and her mother make Lebkuchen (German spiced Christmas cookies) and other family recipes, as well as prepare a fish dinner for Christmas Eve and a roast duck or goose for Christmas Day.

The Chase family partakes in the German tradition of decorating the tree on Christmas Eve. This wasn't a huge part of their Christmas before they moved, but after they moved to the States it became an important way to stay connected to their roots.

Other favorite activities of hers include playing games with her nephews. She got them into go a few years ago, but Abigail is also surprisingly competent at Mario Cart.

But there’s also the comments about whether she’s seeing anyone, and the questions that make it clear that her family doesn’t understand what she does for work or why. She loves her brother and his kids and she’s always grateful to be home, but it’s also very clear to her, between the lines, that her family thinks her life is too small. When the noise and the people get to be too much, she escapes to the kitchen to work on the endless pile of dishes.

Riley

Riley, Riley, Riley. My problem child. Who are you??

Riley seems like he comes from a big-ish family, let’s say four kids, and he’s second youngest. Maybe it’s the way he seems to roll with the punches. We’re breaking into the National Archives? Sure, fine. I can’t stop you, so let me get my laser.

There’s also a good chance that he’s Jewish. Justin Bartha is Jewish, and Riley does say “Mazel Tov” to Ben when Ben says he looks alright for the gala. For the sake of this post let’s say that Riley is from a mixed family that celebrates both traditions. But if you have a take on how Judaism informs Riley’s character, I want to hear it!

Before meeting Ben, Riley worked at a dead-end office job (at IBM, according to the 2003 script). I imagine he was pretty low in the office hierarchy if a probably-fruitless, dangerous treasure hunt seemed like an appealing alternative. Otherwise he’d keep toiling away in a sea of gray cubicles, underpaid and under appreciated. The thing about offices is that when the holidays arrive, the people leave but the problems keep coming. And when you’re know as That-Guy-Who-Can-Solve-My-Problem, you get stuck with the problem. So as Riley’s coworkers and colleagues start to head out on vacation, more and more problems pile up on his desk. His nights get later, and on the last work day before the holiday, his is the last light on.

When all the workplace fires are finally put out, Riley stuffs the presents for his nieces and nephews into his clunker of a sedan and heads for the family home in…Florida? Michigan? My gut says it’s not one of the original 13 colonies, based on how geographic symbolism tends to work in the National Treasure-verse. (Riley listens to metal in the car. He gets sick of Christmas music by November.)

The celebration is at his aunt and uncle’s house, on his dad’s side. By the time he gets there, the house is capital C Chaotic. His cousins and most of his siblings have kids, so there’s a whole flock of nieces and nephews running amuck (and Riley is only too happy to join them). His dad and his sister are bickering over the best technique for cooking the roast. His sister and his brother-in-law are having a heated debate over who knows what. And his other sister—that’s right, I’ve decided he has all sisters—is trying mediate a spat between some of the kids.

Uncle Riley is a big hit with the kids. He’s cool. He’s techy. He always knows the latest video games and can troubleshoot any problem with their GameCube. With the adults…not so much. Riley was a bit of a late bloomer career-wise. He might have stayed in his parents’ basement for a year or two after college. He’s obviously incredibly smart, but he never applies himself to what he’s “supposed to.” Also please stop telling our kids that Bigfoot is real and the moon landing was fake, thank you.

Once he’s through with that and back in his broom closet of an apartment, Riley has a second holiday gathering, this time with his online squad. Riley has to be part of some online groups. Hackers. Conspiracy theorists. Random internet weirdos. Maybe they play D&D together, or swap code or challenge each other to hack into places they shouldn’t just to see if it can be done. In a lot of ways, Riley feels more at home with these usernames on a black background than he does with the family he grew up in.

Patrick

Any way you slice it, Patrick is having a pretty sad Christmas. He’s estranged from his only son. His wife either died thirty years ago or hasn’t spoken to him in thirty years. Either way, his belief that she was his “one and only” means he isn’t seeing anyone, and it appears he has no siblings, so he probably doesn’t have much in the way of family plans. Maybe he has a friend or two who invite him to their family gatherings. Patrick always says he’ll try to swing by, but he knows he won’t. He doesn’t want to intrude, and he has no interest in pity invites.

In the week leading up to Christmas, Patrick’s poker club meets for their holiday game. There’s eggnog and music in the background and enthusiastic discussions of everyone’s holiday plans. Maybe they even tried a secret santa once or twice. It’s a fun little time, but it’s not Christmas.

Christmas for Patrick Gates is a pre-ordered meal and a glass of whisky and an old record on the record player, alone in that big old house.

Conclusion

Okay! Have I broken your heart yet?

Sorry for the angst, but the contrast is going to be important!

This was actually a great opportunity to reflect on what Team Treasure’s lives were like before the events of the film. It highlighted for me just how lonely and isolated they each were, and how something was missing from their lives even if they didn’t know it at the time.

Of course, I’m making most of this up whole-cloth, so feel free to disagree with everything! What do you thing their families and family holidays were like?

This year, the holiday lead-up has been really hectic for me, but this question helped me get into the holiday spirit a bit and think more about my own Christmas traditions as well as the characters.’

Next time, I will answer you actual question about post-treasure Christmas!

I am trying so, so hard to have it ready by Christmas, fingers crossed.

#national treasure #the national treasure gazette #ben gates #abigail chase #riley poole #patrick gates

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mikeys-bike-slut · 4 months

Text

Untitled - Sequel - PT.6 -EDITED/fixed

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey darlings, I apologise for the long delay things been just chaotic lately and trying to find the right picture to edit stressed me out so for my own sake I decided to stop doing my fake panel edits. I'm sorry :( I hope you will still read it <;3

Here's part 6 hope you will enjoy! Thank you for @kokonoiscoconut for being my muse and for letting me use Monica <3 we stan Monica in this house.

Previous Part

T.W: n/a

***

The next day Monica and I met up quite early and spent the entire day together. It was nice to be away from the whirlpool I had back at home with Wakasa and just have fun and be free of those drowning thoughts.

The day went by quite quick and neither of us wanted it to end so Monica came up with the idea to go out clubbing, apparently she knew a good place for it. Of course we did a last minute dress shopping, I let Monica pick my dress out; it's been way too long since I went out without Waka and I always dressed to impress him and to keep his reputation up. Even if I still wasn't the most feminine woman ever it still felt nice to look pretty for my own accord. Not gonna lie I actually liked the dress she picked out; short, tight, black with a low cleavage decorated with some thin chains and crystals. I actually felt very confident and surprisingly comfortable.

"Are you ready?" Monica asks excited as she leans into the bathroom to check on me.

"Hell yeah" I grin and she gives me a thumbs up. "Drinks are on me" she winks at me as she holds Kokonoi's black card between her delicate fingers.

"Sounds good to me" I return her wink then grab my phone and place it in the small clutch bag Monica let me borrow.

Of course Kokonoi called a limo for us, he couldn't join us but he reassured Monica he'll be at the club. After getting to the club we found Kokonoi quite quickly and he lead us to the top floor of the club aka the VIP section. The beautifully decorated terrace had different booths most filled with rich men and young women on their lap, nothing I was not used to from Wakasa. As we walked to the corner where the biggest booth were I noticed weapons laying around and many of these men wearing either guns or swords which made me slightly uneasy.

"You're safe with us" Kokonoi reassures me as we sit down at the booth. "What would you like to drink?"

"Whiskey, straight, please" I nod with a smile.

"Oh by the way I might have invited my two single friends" Monica leans to me with a grin and I just shake my head with a smile. "They're idiots but they have a good heart, and as I said, they're very cute and very single" she winks at me and I just chuckle.

"So you're my new wingman, huh?" I chuckle. "I am fine though, but thank you"

"Say that when you meet them" she winks. "Darling, get me my usual please" she says to Kokonoi who nods and kisses her before standing up and going to the bar.

I watch Kokonoi walk off and suddenly starting to feel a bit awkward, it has been a long time since I had a night out with friends so I wasn't really sure what to do, but thankfully Monica took over. Her and I started talking about men and exes and shared our weird and funny experiences, we continued the chat until I suddenly hear someone spoke up behind me.

"Alright Moni, we're here, where's this bombshell you were talking about?" I turn around and I almost choke on my drink as I find the Haitanis standing there. Monica notices me choking and just chuckles.

"Told you they were hot" she winks at me.

"Sweetheart?" Ran's eyes widen along with his younger brother's as we just stare at each other.

"Wait... you guys know each other?" Monica cocks a brow as she look at us then her eyes widen. "WAIT, ARE THEY THE GUYS???" she blurts out excited and my face goes red.

"Oh, you've been talking about us, sweetheart?" Ran asks with a smirk as he leans down to me. "What was she saying, Moni?" he asks with a grin as he looks over at Monica.

"Not my place to say, you three maybe should have a nice long chat" she winks.

"I support that idea" Rindou speaks up. "Let's go to our spot" he nudges his brother.

"Sounds good" Ran grins as he extends his hand to me. "M'lady?"

"Suck up.." I roll my eyes with a smile as I take his hand and he helps me up.

"See you guys later" Monica grins at us and waves as I walk off with the Haitanis.

The brothers lead me to an empty secluded booth that has their initials on the side of it. Once we sit down Rindou pulls me close to him and gives me a tight hug, without hesitation I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest inhaling his scent, that scent that I missed so much. For a second the world stop spinning and the blasting music is drowned out by his rhythmic heart beat. I let out a soft sigh then pull away from him while I reach up and caress his cheek.

"My beautiful Rin" I smile softly and his lips curl into a small smile as he closes his eyes and rubs his face against my hand.

"We missed you, you have no idea how much" he says then motions to his brother.

"Hey, sweetheart" Ran smiles as I turn to the older brother. "You look stunning, as always. The red really suits you" he smiles as he runs his softly runs his fingers through my red hair.

"Thank you, you both look very handsome. What happened to your locks Ranny?" I ask softly as I play with his short hair.

"Got bored of being mistaken for Wednesday Addams" Rindou answers with a grin and Ran just flips him off with a laugh.

"It was getting to be a pain, long hair not really practical when fighting" he chuckles. "You don't like it?" he asks as he runs his hand through his navy blue and lavender locks with a flash of worry in his tone.

"No, it looks really good, it suits you. You look like a gentleman" I bite my lip as I caress his lips. "You both do" I glance back at Rindou who offers me a smile. "So does this mean, I can see you guys again?" I ask but both of them goes quiet as the smile disappears from their faces.

"I don't know..." Ran sighs.

"What if we meet in hotels? I can even wear a disguise" I suggest as I look at back and forth between them.

"Maybe. We have to think this through properly. You're in a lot of danger" Rindou says and I look at them confused.

"What do you mean? Rin, Ran, just what is going on?" I look at them confused and they once again go quiet. "Please... Or if you guys don't wanna see me just say that..." I say with a slightly annoyed tone to which both of them picks their heads up.

"God no!" Rin blurts it out then groans. "It's not easy for us. You think it was easy for us to leave you at the pet shop?"

"So it did happen... I knew it wasn't a fucking dream" I say gritting my teeth in annoyance, unsure if I'm more annoyed at the brothers or Wakasa.

"Don't blame Wakasa... we asked him to lie to you, because we knew if you knew we're back you'd look for us and God forbid you ever show up at Bonten HQ" Rindou explains.

"Look the only reason I wanted to know more about Bonten because of you, but now that I have found you I can stop looking, unless you guys disappear then I have know other choice but to investigate Bonten more" I shrug my shoulders with a smile being fully aware I got them.

"You're so fucking bothersome..." Rindou groans then shakes his head with a smile.

"If we promise we're back in your life, will you promise to stop look into Bonten?" Ran cocks his brow as he looks at me.

"I promise" I smile as I draw an X over my heart with my finger.

"Then it's a deal" Rindou smiles then sighs as his smiles suddenly disappears. "What about Wakasa?"

I suddenly go quiet. What about him? Suddenly my head turns into a whirlpool as I'm trying to figure out what and how I feel but all I can think about is having my brothers back.

"I don't know..." I admit it quietly as I look down.

"If you're happy with him, we respect your wishes and we can leave you be" Ran explains.

"I don't know. Lately the butterflies he used to give me just turned into raging moths that turns my stomach..." I say with a sigh as I lean against Rindou.

"Have you talked to him about this?" Ran ask as he caresses my back, giving me comfort.

"Not yet, I don't even know how to start to be honest... Honestly? I miss the old days, the fights, the excitement, the last minute rides and races to the beach... I feel like I'm just a shell of who I used to be. I'm no longer Toman's Angel" I say quietly and sniffles as tears start to form in my eyes.

"Oh petal..." Rindou sighs as he holds me close. "Wait... if you're the girl Monica meant then does that mean you're the one who's personal friends with Jekyll & Hyde?" he cocks a brow.

"Yeah.. that's me" I nod quietly.

"I swear to God..." Ran chuckles. "You just turn everyone into lapdogs aren't you?" he nudges me with a smile making me let out a chuckle.

"I wasn't planning on it, I swear!" I chuckle as I wipe my eyes. "Hyde used to know my brother, and we bonded over that"

"You have a brother?" Ran asks and Rindou just punches him in the arm making him exclaims in pain. "What?!"

"Ignore him, Petal" Rindou says and I chuckle softly as I shake my head.

"No, it's okay. I used to, but I was quite young when I lost him, he died because of me, so I have just buried his memory deep hoping I can just forget it, no one knew about this except Mikey" I explain and Ran just gives me a short hug.

"Sorry for bringing it up. But on the positive side; good to know that Ginza's two psychopath are your bodyguards" he chuckles.

"Yeah, at least we know you're in safe hands" Rindou shakes his head with a smile.

"But I missed my other psychos" I smile as I hug them both.

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mbavholidayexchange · 6 months

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to: @rbquartz from: @an-animagi

Title: Red | Rating: General Audiences | Word Count: 2,368

this title is a reference to the song “The Red Means I Love You” by Madds Buckley

They’re sat in a treehouse when Sarah brings it up.

“Hey, do you have any plans for Christmas?” She asks, and Erica almost bites back at her to look around. If she had plans, she wouldn’t be sat with her girlfriend, in a treehouse they scared some little kids away from.

“No,” She replies curtly instead, and she watches as the brunette nods.

“I assumed so, but I just wanted to make sure.” Sarah finally looks up from her phone, and the blonde doesn’t even pretend she hadn’t just been studying the soft brown of her skin and the dark chocolate of her eyes. Sometimes she thinks she could lose the remains of her mortality in those eyes, in their piercing glance and their gentle smile.

Those same eyes, ebony irises carved perfectly into spheres, gaze into her own cerulean ones from across the small space separating them. Erica watches as the brunette’s lips part, saliva making them shine in setting sunlight, before her attention is captured by the sweet sound of Sarah’s half-dry voice.

“Would you like to do something together? On Christmas, I mean.” Comes the clarification that the blonde had already expected, and she barely hesitates before answering.

“Ugh, why would I celebrate some Christian holiday? They have a whole thing against vampires, don’t they?” At Sarah’s incredulous eyebrow raise, Erica scoffs in offence. “And gay people! God, Christians hate us so much.” Turning back to the phone in her hands, Sarah rolls her eyes in amusement as her girlfriend huffs angrily.

A few moments pass in silence, the brunette scrolling through something on her phone as the blonde picks at her manicured nails. If Erica had a heart, she thinks it would be racing in her chest and thundering in her ears. But the one she has is destined to never beat again, so instead she merely imagines the warmth in her abdomen as she watches Sarah smile smugly as she looks back up.

“Actually, over sixty percent of people state that they celebrate Christmas completely secularly, so we don’t have to treat it as a Christian holiday.” She tilts her head as she finishes her sentence, knowing that Erica will bend to her whims if she tries hard enough, and that this was just making sure the fish was secured onto the end of her line.

With a sigh, the blonde rolls her eyes and deflates. “Fine,” She starts, and sits back up as she continues, “But where would we even go for our little ‘celebration’?” Her hands had risen up to form quotation marks, but she drops them into her lap and raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the brunette.

Sarah thinks for a moment, idea running through her head and being stopped due to their obvious flaws. Erica’s mom wouldn’t want them over, and neither of Sarah’s parents would particularly care but they didn’t know about the vampire stuff or the relationship stuff, so both of them were out.

“This tree house,” She decides in the end. Erica gives her a questioning look, blue eyes sharp as ice, and the brunette continues. “No one will come here anymore, we can meet up beforehand like we did today and come here together.”

“Okay, this poor excuse of a tree house can do.” Agrees the blonde with another sigh, her favourite thing to do even if she doesn’t have to breathe. “What will we even do? Just hang out?”

“Well, I was thinking we could decorate to make it more festive.”

“Festive? We’re already outside in the cold, I don’t think we can get more ‘Christmas-y’ than that.”

“Erica, we literally do not feel the cold.”

“Ugh, I can still use it as a point!” Scoffs the blonde, while Sarah rolls her eyes affectionately. Forming her face into something innocent rather than feral, Erica asks, “Well, can we at least go on a hunt together?” In reply, her girlfriend gives her a look of disappointment, one of exasperation that already tells her the answer the brunette will give.

“What?” Erica asks first, not giving Sarah a chance to speak. “You have a nice meal on Christmas, don’t you? This could be ours!”

“Do you really want to run into Rory and have to help him find Santa to taste his blood?” The darker skinned girl asks, her tone completely incredulous. The blonde immediately lets her face twist into one of disgust, unwilling to even think about the teenage boy who never seemed to mature.

Well, in the sense of his behaviour. None of the three would ever physically mature, trapped inside their teenage bodies for the rest of eternity. Or until someone got smart and stabbed a stake through one of their hearts. Sometimes Erica wanted nothing more than to do that to Rory, but this wasn’t the time nor place to think about wanting to kill someone she had known for years.

Instead, it was the time for her to stare at her girlfriend with wide eyes, silently begging her to agree. They didn’t hunt together often, mainly due to Sarah refusing to drink human blood for as long as possible, and even though Erica was fine hunting alone she wanted to enjoy something with her girlfriend, so if she was being forced to celebrate a Christmas she was getting a joint hunt.

“We can just share a blood bag or two?” Offers the brunette, already knowing that she’s fighting a losing battle. The way she doesn’t meet the blonde’s bored eyes says it all.

“It’s better when it’s fresh,” Erica states, knowing full well that the difference between blood directly from a body and blood from a plastic bag is barely discernible. She smirks as she listens to Sarah’s sigh of defeat, a sharp twist of her lips which softens to a smile when her girlfriend looks back at her.

“You can go on a hunt, but I won’t go with you if you do.”

“Aw, shame, we could make a nice little break from sitting in a stupid treehouse.”

“Hey,” Sarah says, her tone much lighter and more playful. “Don’t call the treehouse stupid.” She looks around, brown eyes tracing each wooden wall before they rest on her girlfriend. “And fine, I’ll go with you.”

“Woohoo,” Comes the half-hearted cheer, part of a smile on Erica’s face. The pair sits in silence for a moment, before the blonde, glancing to the side of the brunette, speaks again. “Hunting with you is more fun than hunting alone.” She bears her feelings in front of her heart, speaks her thoughts and prepares herself to shut down into a husk of who she is.

With a soft, gentle smile, Sarah replies, “Come here, you sap.” She begins to get up, growing closer to her girlfriend before their hands tangle together. Erica leans forwards, resting her pale forehead against Sarah’s darker skin, and they glance into each other’s eyes before the blonde shuts hers.

Their lips press together delicately, a grazing touch that sends sparks down Erica’s spine like every other kiss they have shared. She feels a hand brush the hair out of her face and the pair are like one, melted together by the heat gathering at their lips. Time slows around them, a thick sludge they cannot feel as they become each other’s universe.

Then they pull apart, and though the moment is not over it is certainly less electrifying as they face the reality of a string of saliva hanging between them, as they face the reality of the world waiting for them to slip up outside of the comfort of a treehouse up a random tree in a forest.

“Same time, same place tomorrow?” Asks Sarah, licking her bottom lip with half lidded eyes. Erica nods, her words failing her as all she thinks about is running her fingers through her girlfriends long, dark hair and kissing her in places that are not her lips.

And as the brunette starts climbing down the ladder, Erica wonders what she did in her life to deserve Sarah and her love.

-~=~-

As Sarah listens to her girlfriend rant about their geography teacher and the latest offence he had committed, she can’t help but be distracted.

It is one of their last few days at school, only a week left until Christmas, and she really doesn’t mean to interrupt Erica when she asks, “Do you want to help me find a tree?” The blonde stares at her for a moment, expression filled with surprise at the interruption and then confusion at the question.

“But we already have a tree?” She replies, tone dripping with a questioning tone. “The one with the treehouse, that’s our tree.”

“No, I mean a Christmas tree,” Sarah clarifies, and she watches as her girlfriend rolls her cerulean eyes with a scoff.

They spend three days finding the perfect Christmas tree together.

It’s not very tall, not if they wanted it to fit in the treehouse, and it looks like it might be alive, even though both of them know it’s not. Sarah finds it kind of funny, that two seemingly living beings bought a seemingly living object, but she decides not to think about it too long or too hard. Thinking about how she’s dead now is guaranteed to ruin her mood.

They had bought some decorations, cheap fairy lights to stick up on the walls and some baubles from Walmart which the cashier had sworn were the cheapest they would find. Erica had offered to steal them, but Sarah wanted the experience of shopping together for Christmas rather than having to convince the police that her girlfriend hadn’t stolen anything.

She wanted at least one normal teenager experience, and preferably when she was still actually seventeen as well. Their bodies would stay seventeen forever, but that didn’t mean Sarah would always act like a seventeen year old, and she wanted to enjoy one thing before graduation. Or the day she would have graduated. Education was complicated once you became immortal.

A lot of things were, and if you were to ask Erica she would tell you one of them was putting up fairy lights.

-~=~-

They are sat across from each other in the cramped tree house yet again, this time both holding gifts in their hands. Erica can’t help the false beating in her chest, and she tries to ignore it as she scowls up at the twinkling lights instead. She is wearing a longer skirt and a blouse, not something she would be caught wearing for any other occasion but she decided to make an exception for Sarah.

Speaking of, the brunette wears a knee-length dress adorned with a thick cardigan, her dark hair fashioned into waves that frame her bronze skin perfectly. Erica notices the sharp eyeliner and the touches of soft blush, and she can feel the warmth swell in her abdomen and her chest as she admires her girlfriend.

“Are you ready?” Sarah asks, and the blonde has to blink to remind herself that a treehouse is not the place to imagine being intimate. She looks up into the other girl’s eyes, soft ebony swelling with excitement, and she nods.

They exchange gifts, both beginning to unwrap them simultaneously. The red and white plaid rug beneath them is soft, and Erica nervously runs a hand along its surface before continuing to pull away the wrapping paper. She reveals a small necklace, a heart sitting in the centre, and her eyes widen.

She gently lifts it off of the paper, staring at the small heart-shaped compartment as she places the wrapping paper to the side. Opening the locket, she feels tears brim her eyes as she sees the picture of herself and Sarah, holding each other in a tight embrace as they share a delicate kiss beneath a mistletoe plant.

“I had Benny take the picture,” Comes Sarah’s voice, a loving tune to Erica’s ears, and the blonde looks up to face her girlfriend. She doesn’t have it in her to care that the wizard had watched them kiss for long enough to take a photo. Not right now.

“It’s wonderful,” She whispers, and she knows that the brunette hears it when a soft smile appears on her face. She clips the necklace around her neck, and it stands out against the white of her pristine blouse. Distantly, she hears the wrinkling of wrapping paper as Sarah continues opening her own present, but Erica is too busy thinking of the gift she had been given.

Quiet cooing interrupts her thoughts, and she looks back up from the locket to see her girlfriend smiling at a teddy bear. The blonde smiles too, seeing the joy on the other girl’s face being enough to make her happy, as she watches the moment Sarah finds the sewn on vampire fangs in the bear’s mouth.

“Name it whatever you like,” Erica states, and she watches a mischievous glint appear in her girlfriend’s eyes. She decides to be nice and not indulge in an impulsive decision she knows Sarah will regret. “But first, we go eat.”

The light leaves the brunette’s eyes, and her smile dims but does not disappear. “Fine dining awaits!” The blonde exaggerates, hoping that she hasn’t completely ruined the moment by deciding to be thoughtful about the future of the bear. The corners of Sarah’s mouth twitch upwards, and Erica decides to take it as a win.

As they begin getting up to leave the treehouse, they come face to face and without much thought, Erica shuts her eyes and leans forwards. Their lips meet again, this time in a kiss that deepens in love and desperation, but the magical feeling is the same. Sparks still fly around them, warmth still grows in the blonde’s chest, and she briefly imagines that it feels this good for her girlfriend, too.

When they finally break apart, both panting even though neither of them need to breathe, Erica hopes that every kiss they share will send shivers of electricity down her body and melt the ice growing inside of her.

She will need it if they plan on spending many more Christmasses out in the Canadian winter.

#mbav #my babysitter's a vampire #mbav holiday exchange #mbavholidayexchange #serica #sarah fox #erica jones

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thehiddenbaroness · 5 months

Text

15 People, 15 Questions

I was tagged by @plumcoloredblazer -- sorry it took me a hot minute to get to it! I appreciate it. <3

1. Are you named after anyone?

I've long disliked that none of my names are 'mine', in that both my first and middle names are from other people -- my first is my maternal grandfather's middle name (which he also sorta went by), while my middle name is my mother's middle name (which she went by when we moved to the UK).

2. When was the last time you cried?

I had a few frustrated tears over the weekend, but it's rare nowadays that I actually cry-cry.

3. Do you have kids?

I do not, unless you count the two fur-babies. No intention to.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I played field (read: astroturf) hockey for a few years in middle school; before that, I was a dancer (yes I count dance as a sport). Lately I'm not really a sporty type but I am getting more active.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Moi?

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Usually what comes out of their mouth, but also how they carry themselves -- do they look interested in where they are? Are they engaged with what's at hand? Do they have good posture? Are they trying to shrink into themselves? Are they oblivious to being in someone's way? Are they close to the gap?

7. What’s your eye color?

Dark brown.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Err...I hesitate to say neither, because while I don't like scary movies and don't *dislike* a happy ending, movies with ambiguous/bittersweet or even tragic endings are typically the ones I've enjoyed more.

9. Any talents?

Writing, I'd like to think. I'm organized and efficient. I have a deep well of empathy and understanding and feel like I'm good at helping folks wrestle with life's troubles. I'm a spice sorceress.

10. Where were you born?

Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

11. What are your hobbies?

Writing (who knew?), history (especially art and natural, and archeology), reading, word games, languages, organizing and decorating, gaming somewhat, jigsaw puzzles, travel.

12. Do you have any pets?

We have two! Molly, our sensitive and loving Shepinois (German Shepherd and Belgian Malinois mix), and Penny, our eccentric and brave gray/peach dilute calico shorthair.

13. How tall are you?

A delightfully average 5'4; as my mother used to say, at least I don't have to bend down as far if I drop something.

14. Favorite subject in school?

I actually had a love/hate relationship with English since it was the one I was most invested in, but I liked it the most because I did the best in it.

15. Dream job?

Taking this to mean more of an occupation than a *job* -- since I think if something is a job it's not especially enjoyable or rewarding -- the answer is perhaps obvious: a published fiction author. But really, I want to be occupied with my writing, tending our dream house in the woods, making my own salves and tinctures, reading, entertaining close friends with the finer things. I'd like to be occupied with love in its different forms, and for my time to be largely my own.

===

No pressure, those of you who I'm tagging! Just something to perhaps fill an idle few minutes. @ohtobealady, @in-a-storm-glass, @dahliasgloom, @malglories, @webedragons, @oftwodarkmoons, @lastoftheptolemies, @daughter-rhaenyra, @karrova, @ofallingstar, @marrogerson, @naryamirie, @aryasnow, @modernamericangirl, @saffron-mantled-dawn

#scrapsofbiography #tag game

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malk1ns · 1 year

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for your pleasure: it’s culturally said that Russian men never show up when meeting a women (whether business or pleasure) without a bouquet. Food for thought around your 1950s Geno fic lol

👀👀👀

Sid expects the flowers to stop after a while.

Geno brings a bouquet to every date, to the point where Sid runs out of vases and has to ask some of the WAGs where he can gets more that fit with his house's decor scheme. He buys flower food and a watering can and does his best to keep them alive for as long as possible, and then Geno starts bringing over live plants in pots and Sid falls headfirst into online research on how to care for all these living things suddenly in his home.

He maybe goes a little crazy on Amazon getting supplies. It's worth it when Geno sees how carefully arranged all his gifts are, how well-tended the blooms and leaves look.

That's normal early-relationship stuff, though, so Sid figures after a while it'll die down, and he'll maybe get a new plant for his birthday or something, to supplement the collection in the west-facing room he hadn't found a use for yet that's rapidly becoming a greenhouse.

It's when individual stems start appearing in his locker before every practice that Sid begins to suspect this might be more of a permanent thing.

The guys razz him, of course they do, but Geno just looks smug whenever Sid comes in and smiles over the new flower. Sid's not sure how much money he's spending on them, or where they're coming from, but he carefully gathers them and brings them home, and the biggest vase he owns, the one that sits on his kitchen island where he can see it as often as possible, becomes dedicated to the workplace gifts Geno seems determined to leave him every day.

"It's a Russian thing," Tanger says one day, examining the orchid bloom Sidney found before practice. "The men, they bring flowers for women when they meet them, even if they're just friends, even if it's work. I think it's safe to say you're getting what you wanted?"

Sid flushes hot. "How do you even know that?" he asks instead of acknowledging Tanger's question.

Kris smiles at him, all teeth and knowing eyes. "I called Sarge and asked what it might mean, if our little Geno was giving someone flowers every single day."

"Fuck, the whole goddamn league is gonna have a field day with this, you're such an asshole," Sid groans, kicking Kris in the shin hard enough to make him yelp and hop away. "And give me that, you're going to crush the stem."

Geno's waiting for him outside the locker room, slouched against the opposite wall and playing on his phone, chewing on his lower lip as he rapidly scrolls through whatever he's looking at. When he sees it's Sid coming through the door, orchid safely in hand, he straightens and slips his phone into his pocket.

"I think maybe you're lost," he says, smiling down at Sid and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Ready for go home?"

Sid settles into the warmth of Geno's touch, letting him steer them through the halls and out to the parking lot. Geno opens the passenger door to the car and waits until Sid's buckled safely in before shutting it and circling around to the driver's side.

"Do you think you'll keep getting me flowers forever?" Sid asks abruptly when they're halfway home.

Geno lowers the volume on the music and glances quickly at him, brow furrowed. "You're not like?"

Sid looks down at the orchid in his lap, touching the plastic water pick at the base of its stem. "No, I love it," he says, shifting in his seat. "It's just. I guess Tanger talked to Gonch."

"Ah," Geno says, fingers tightening a little on the wheel as he changes lanes to get off the highway. "It's okay?"

Sid knows what he's asking, knows what they're dancing around. It's something neither of them have been willing to actually put into words yet, even though Geno's behavior makes it crystal clear to anyone who's paying attention.

"It's more than okay," he finally answers, rolling his neck to try and ease a tight spot he hadn't been able to get fully massaged out at the trainers' after practice. "It's...you know. You know I like it."

Geno's shoulders come down from where they'd been climbing up to his ears. "Good," he says firmly. "Then we keep do. You like flower, you should get flower every day. I'm do this for you, I like it too."

"Good," Sid echoes. "What do you want for dinner? I think we have some of that chicken parm left, or I can make us pasta."

Geno looks over at him again, but this time his eyes are hot, and Sid squirms. "Think about dinner later," he says, hand landing high on Sid's thigh. "Have other thing to do when we get home."

#sidgeno #hockey rpf #my fic #my writing #talkin' bout

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