#christmas gift exchange | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

natadachoco · 1 year

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a pretty good reunion

this is @twic0rd‘s christmas gift exchange!! It’s a 3.5k words of a mumscarian injury fic set it an unknown timeline (after season 8). Technically it’s a hurt/comfort, but I’m not very good at hurting my boys so it’s mostly fluff. It starts off with established Scarian with pining Mumbo and ends with the three of them getting together. Enjoy!!

There are some things in this world that are self-evident.

Therefore, due having to put up with things like preening, being monitored all times by your adoptive keepers, and having to cut wing holes out of everything he wore, he was allowed to torment them as much as he wanted.

One, Grian had wings.

Two, Scar and Mumbo did not.

(He convenient ignored the fact that as a shapeshifter, Mumbo could have wings too, but he didn’t have the helicopter watchers that came with Grian’s wings, so they didn’t count.)

Mumbo’s roof made a terrible perch. The first few times he tried landing on it, his talons unsuccessfully grappled with the slick tile and it usually ended with him falling flat on his ass. Several more smashes into the balcony later — and a few grooves he definitely didn’t deliberately scratch into the roof — he got the hang of it. Still wasn’t a pleasant feeling under his feet, though.

He ignored the tutting, fussing voices in the back of his head. He was a bird on a mission: make Mumbo’s life a living hell for leaving him so lo— for generating so much lag. He'll have a fun surprise waiting for him when he finally logs back on. What to do?

Blue eyes lit up as an idea popped into his head.

Leafiana. Treesia’s grafted clone, because if the hermits can transcend dimensions and hop into a new server, why can’t Treesia?

Well. He can pretend, anyways.

Talons clicked against roof tile as he launched from his perch in the rough direction of a forest. Grian never really got the hang of using the coordinates embedded in his communicator properly, relying more on his avian instincts to guide him.

He flew until the yellowed grass of the plains gave over to the brighter, truer greens of the forest. Ferns squished under him as he landed. He grinned softly to himself when he felt the foliage against his feet. He loved building, exploring structure and design in a way that can’t really be done in 2D, but sometimes he just wanted to build a nest in the trees and sleep with only a canopy to protect him instead of in his giant mansions and super-future towers.

“I keep getting distracted,” he muttered to himself. He was here to gather materials for Treesia 2.0, and that meant getting his axe out and doing some chopping.

Thud. Crash. Whatever other sounds trees made when they crashed down in a forest. Grian stood back to admire his haul, grimacing at the thought of having to chop these oaks up even further so he can shove them in shulkers. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his wing, hands currently occupied with a very sharp tool, before grimacing at the sticky mess of dirt that was now on his brightly coloured feathers. He sighed. As if he hadn’t had enough preening to do when he got back.

He looked at the felled logs. It was probably around ten stacks, but he remembered needing at least half a shulker box for Treesia, and he certainly didn’t want to be outdone by past Grian, so he sighed and resigned himself to spending the next hour chopping more wood.

He should’ve chosen his next tree more carefully. It only took one hit of the axe to do this, after all.

A high-pitched scream echoed throughout the forest. He barely registered it was his own. Blood flowed steadily out of Grian’s scalp and onto the crumpled ferns below, saturating the dark earth underneath. He tried to lift a hand to stem the flow, but only now did he notice that the branch that cut a gash into his head and knocked him over was now crushing his arm and wing. It must’ve already been on the verge of breaking, and his axe hit was just the final straw, he thought blearily. If he continued thinking a mile a minute, the pain wouldn’t consume him.

Too bad, the universe said. You’re gonna hurt anyways. Whatever adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay long enough for him to take in his situation before was not pulling its weight anymore. His back throbbed angrily and pain laced through his wings from being stuck in such unnatural positions, not to mention the giant tree branch that was still on top of him. Grian could swear that he could hear the other Watchers laughing at his plight. Imagine what you could have done if you didn’t leave us, he bet they were whispering. Leaving to frolic among mortals.

His communicator. He needed his communicator.

The bright light of the screen shocked a migraine into him. Great. He probably had a concussion on top of all his other injuries, too. I hope I didn’t type it wrong, he thought, just before black overtook his vision. He was always terrible at using coordinates.

[help me]

[1083, -3872]

Scar’s communicator beeped. He glanced down, lit up by a nearby beacon beam with a pickaxe in hand. He had just been gathering more andesite for a new build.

His heart stopped.

His pickaxe clattered to the floor as he quickly grabbed his rockets and set off in the direction of a certain pesky bird. If his boyfriend wanted help with a build, or even just to prank someone, he’d send a little more than just a depressingly short message and a set of coordinates. It was up to him to make sure he was okay; no one else was online except for an afk Tango. Even if it was a prank, Scar couldn’t possibly leave him alone.

His worry grew as he neared the coordinates. He was nowhere near any Hermit’s base; in fact, he had been flying over ocean for who knows how long. Had Grian typed them wrong?

He looked at the coordinates again, trying to think of where it could possibly be, if not here. The easiest mistake to make is forgetting a negative, a mistake he knew from experience was far too easy to make. He racked his brain trying to remember what was around -1100, -3900. Mumbo’s base was within a few hundred blocks. It wasn’t that close, but it was all he could remember.

Hopefully it was the right decision, he thought. Grian had been waiting for him long enough.

This time, a forest faded into view as he flew in. You can have accidents in forests, right? Scar knew he had enough issues navigating their dark, not Scar Safe premises. He dived downwards into the canopy when he reached the coordinates, only realising a little bit too late that that may have not been a very good idea.

A branch caught him in the stomach and he wheezed. A sucker punch was better than this. He panted as he caught his breath, hanging over the branch like he was laundry on a clothesline. He opened his eyes to see if he could spot some familiar feathers, but his hard-won air was forced out of him once again as he took in the scene before him.

"What in the world, Grian!?"

Grian was usually a sight for sore eyes, but the blood and the unnaturally crooked wings made his eyes sore.

"Hang on, I'm coming to get you!" He shouted. He was half aware that Grian was probably out cold and couldn't hear him, but he felt the odd need to say it anyway. It was like there was an audience watching him.

He wriggled off the branch and landed beside Grian with an 'oof'. He grimaced at the squelch of the ground, nearly gagging when he lifted his hands and saw that they were covered in brick red dust. The top layer of the blood must've dri-

How long has he been here?

Spurred on by the icy realisation, he tried to lift the tree branch up to no avail. Never had he cursed being one of the physically weakest Hermits so much. He rummaged through his inventory to see if there was anything he could use, panic setting in, and then remembering that in his haste, he hadn't even thought to get healing potions or even a golden apple.

He bit his lip as he wondered whether going back to the shopping district to grab some potions would be worth the time sacrifice. Just as he was about to leave, his communicator beeps again.

[MumboJumbo joined the game.]

What?

Shaking his head, he blinked a few more times to make sure he read the message properly.

Nope, still the same.

Any other time, he would be celebrating the return of the mustached man, but he was in quite the worrying situation right now. He could make use of this, though.

[mumbo can you get some healing poitons please?]

[-1083, -3872]

Inhale.

[sure thing]

And exhale.

Help was coming, and it was someone they had missed very, very, much.

In the meantime, though, he had a head wound to bandage.

"Ugh, my wings," Grian muttered. His head was pounding something awful but he had to get up, get this branch off him…

He paused.

The weight he felt on him wasn’t the branch; it was a blanket. He gingerly felt around his throbbing head. It was bandaged. His arm and wings too, though the latter was done far more messy and crushed a few more of his feathers than he would've liked. Who had…?

The neat sorting system and redstone residue everywhere told him he was inside Mumbo's base. But it couldn't be Mumbo, because Mumbo wasn't her–

"Oh thank goodness, Grian! You're awake!" Scar appeared at the door, smiling his massive smile, crow's feet appearing in the outer corners of his eyes. He grabbed a cup of water from the bedside table and thrust it at Grian, spilling half of it over the blankets in the process.

They took a minute to stare at the mess.

"I never think I can get any clumsier, but I beat my own records every time I move," Scar moped.

Grian would be a lot more annoyed if he didn't look so genuinely upset, already grabbing a cloth to mop up the excess and moving to grab another blanket from the closet. While Scar was here, though, he might as well get his questions out of the way. "Did you help me? Also, did you move me to Mumbo's base?"

Scar blinked, pausing with the new blanket in hand. "Well, yes, but Mumbo also–"

Before he could finish his sentence, and before Grian could process the bombshell Scar just dropped on him, the door burst open and a familiar mustachio'ed face stared back at him.

"Uh… hi, Grian."

Silence.

"It sure is nice to see you after so long. It's been a while hasn't it? You know, I wasn't really planning on being gone for so long–"

Grian was almost in awe at how fast the man could ramble when stressed. "Hi Grian? Really? That's the first thing you say to me when I haven't seen your mustache in months?"

Mumbo blushed, sheepish, an embarrassed hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. He opened his mouth, probably to try and mount a meager defence, but Grian ignored him and turned to Scar instead. “Thanks, Scar. I don’t know how I managed to get myself in such a messy situation.”

Scar moved to drag his old blanket from him and put the new one over top. Mumbo flinched when his battered body came into view, bandages around every part of him and tinged brown from dried blood. It seemed to spark something in Mumbo, though, as he quickly blathered about getting ‘supplies’ and ran off, back out the door he just came from.

“Well that was weird.”

“Grian, Mumbo was actually quite helpful in getting you back here and patching you up, so maybe you can cut him some slack? I’m sure he didn’t leave us for so long,” Scar said. Grian snapping at Mumbo wasn’t the most warranted, but he could understand. Missing someone for so long only to be greeted like nothing had changed was always going to be jarring, and Grian wasn’t the only one who wanted something more from their long-awaited reunion.

“I know, I know, I just thought his coming back would be a lot more fun, you know? Like, fireworks and a feast with the entire server, not him having to rescue me from a tree.” He groaned at the last word, only now having the time to feel embarrassed about the entire ordeal. “How did I lose to a tree!?”

Scar laughed at his flush and quickly pecked him on the cheek, his relief from before morphing into affection. His grin grew wider when Grian blushed even harder, throwing his hands up over his face before quickly remembering why sudden movements were not in his repertoire right now.

His yelp of pain brought a worried furrow to Scar’s eyebrows. He gently took Grian’s injured arm and inspected the bandages, which were already starting to come off. Unwinding them made him flinch at the medley of bruises hidden just underneath, most of which were turning nasty purples. The cuts and scrapes were cleaned out, but the dressings kept them wet and disgusting to look at.

Grian was still as Scar wiped away the old disinfectant and applied a new layer, the foul scent making his sensitive avian nose want to wither and die. The re-done bandages looked worse than they started, though, wound too tight in some places and not tight enough in others. Scar sat back, gazing at his handiwork, and sighed. “Mumbo did your bandages the first time ‘round.”

“I could tell,” Grian laughed. Mumbo, despite his overall clumsiness, was always good with his hands – in more ways than one, his dirty mind finished for him – because of how often he worked with intricate redstone. “Did he also do my wings?”

“Yeah, he did. Were they good?”

Grian hummed, unsure how honest he wanted to be, given how earnestly both men were taking care of him. Well, one of them was his boyfriend, but still. Not to mention, if he wanted to rib on Mumbo, he wanted to do it when the man was here.

A crash and a curse sounded from downstairs.

Ah, there’s the man. Scar startled out of his seat, almost knocking Grian on the wing in the process. He stammered an apology and bowed out of the room in much the same way Mumbo did just a while before, calling out to the accident-prone man with a, “I’m coming!”

Several more crashes, screams, and a cat’s yowl that sounded like it was ripped straight from a sit-com later, Scar and Mumbo staggered back up with a handful of healing and regeneration potions, completely covered in far more gold dust than should have been possible given how long they’ve been gone.

“How do you guys do this to yourselves every time?”

Scar glared at him playfully while Mumbo clutched the potions protectively to his chest. “The glistening melons were fighting me,” he defended himself. His arms twitched as if he was about to let go of the potions, and Grian was struck with the thought that Mumbo wasn’t being protective of the potions more so than simply not wanting to accidentally let go of them. “It’s not my fault that the chests you use to submerge the slices in gold dust are so easily knocked over.”

His prominent glare at a certain elf made it clear exactly what happened downstairs.

Quick, snorting giggles escaped him before he could control himself. Mumbo’s gaze softened and Scar simply went over to kiss him again. Mumbo tightened his hold on the potions again, but Grian was too busy being peppered with kisses all over his face to care particularly much.

Once he was done indulging, Scar popped open one of the many bottles and gestured for him to drink it, and then another one after that. The healing potions immediately went to work on the deepest parts of his injuries; a fracture in his arm that none of them caught immediately started to right itself, a deep pain finally clearing up, and his bruises immediately started to lighten. His tenderised wing bones needed the magic of the regen potions, though, and he was about to throw up with how much liquid the two fretting men forced into him. He groaned, his sensitive wings finally reforming themselves. Not all of it was done properly, and some wing bones still needed to be popped back into place, not to mention the amount of preening he had to do.

He motioned for someone to take his bandages off. Mumbo immediately went to work on his arms and body while Scar worked on his wings. He grimaced as a good few of his feathers were ripped out in the process, stuck to the dried blood. Scar immediately ran a soothing hand over the tender spots, gently rubbing the pain out.

“That’s so much better,” he sighed. Pops sounded out as he finally rolled his shoulders back properly after being stuck in bed for…

“How long was I out for?”

“I think we carried you back here around three hours ago,” Mumbo said. Grian blinked. He was out for that long? Man, he knew he lost to a tree, but he didn’t think he lost that hard. Treesia 2.0 was out for blood, and she wasn’t even built yet.

“Mumbo, you’ve shapeshifted into a bird before, right? You know how to preen wings?”

Mumbo nodded. He never stayed in those forms for long, preferring his human form for redstone, but the bird form was convenient when he loses his elytra and had to get somewhere quick.

“Can you help me with them, then? Even with Scar helping, it’ll take absolutely ages to get these boys back in working order,” Grian said. He flapped them lightly for emphasis.

“Of course, of course,” Mumbo said, but he added hesitatingly, “But aren’t those… sensitive? I thought that was for…”

“Friends can preen each other as much as partners can.” This time, Grian didn’t miss Mumbo’s miniscule flinch. Oh?

None of them said anything more as Grian shuffled backwards on the bed, making room for the two to crawl in beside him. They went to work on his wings, combing them back into their places and removing any remnants of broken blood feathers they could find. Grian popped any dislocated bones back into place, cringing slightly each time at the rush of pain.

That wasn’t the only feeling he was getting, though.

Bird wings were sensitive, and many spots actually felt quite nice when touched. He chirped when Scar thumbed over one of his primary feathers and sighed when Mumbo pressed gently against his wingpit, trying to get a particularly stubborn feather out. Mumbo’s face flushed more and more as the preening session went on. The noises Grian was making were doing something to him, but he couldn’t help but feel terrible. Scar was literally right there, and here he was, blushing at every little noise.

“You could always join us, if you wanted,” Scar said.

Mumbo yelped a little at that, only barely managing not to jump in surprise. “Huh? Join what? I’m perfectly fine, what are you talking about?”

“We’ve discussed it before, you know,” Grian chimed in. “Even before today, we always thought that… well, we wanted to date you too.” He hesitated when Mumbo took a second too long to reply. “Unless… we assumed wrong?”

“No!” Mumbo cringed at himself. That was almost a shout. “No, you assumed right, of course, I just—”

“Can I kiss you?” Grian blurted out. Mumbo’s frantic rambling increased to a frenetic rate, words spilling out of his mouth like a waterfall. Grian smirked. “Well, you made me feel mighty good right now. Might as well complete it, right?”

Mumbo froze, face immediately flushed tomato red. Grian reached out to poke him, but only got a small “Meep!” in return.

Scar laughed. “Gri, I think you broke him.” He reached out to poke him as well, hard enough to make him sway in place.

“Not my fault he’s so easily breakable,” he pouted.

“Grian, you lost to a tree.”

“Shut up!”

And he did, with a deep kiss. That got a reaction out of the dying mustached man. Mumbo swallowed so hard Grian could hear it over the pounding in his ears, and he broke from Scar, leaning over with his intent clear in his eyes. Mumbo nodded imperceptibly, eyes still darting between their lips, and anything he was about to say was swallowed up by Grian’s kiss.

Scar was complaining in the background. He said he wanted to kiss Mumbo first, why didn’t Grian ever listen to him, and Grian broke away to yell at him for that — Grian was not the one who never listened to his partner! — so Scar swept in and kissed Mumbo gently on the cheek.

The sounds of Mumbo combusting have never been so satisfying.

“You know what? This was a pretty good reunion.”

#mumscarian #scarian #grumbo #mumscar #mcyt #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft #christmas gift exchange #sorry this is late my dumbass queued it and it got eaten #my fanfic #mine

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creativegenius22 · 5 months

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On the twelfth day of drawings, my true love gave to me…

A Christmas Gift Exchange!

Thank you to @jokerislandgirl32 for this lovely suggestion! What better way to end off my 12 drawings of Christmas than with the two of them giving each other their Christmas presents! Alessandra crafted a homemade love themed mug for Zach! And Zach built Alessandra a hologram device that shows a sweet photo of them together! I’d say they both love each other’s thoughtful gifts!

This scene was so sweet to draw! And as a fun Easter egg, I decided to draw Alessandra wearing one of the pyjamas that Donita was going to sell at Varmitech Village in “A Creature Christmas”! I like to think that the other villains would get her Christmas gifts too! Thank you to everyone who followed my 12 drawings of Christmas and a special shoutout to @jokerislandgirl32 for giving me all of these amazing Christmas prompt suggestions! I really hope you all enjoyed my drawings as much as I enjoyed creating them!

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literarion · 1 year

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Christmas gift pods incoming!

Christmas is nearly here, and what's definitely here is the bulk of my gift pods this year!

One Good Turn Deserves Another

written by @entanglednow, and recorded for @skyasimaru.

In which Crowley judges the state of an angel's wings, Aziraphale misbehaves, and both of them get what they want.

E-rated, 55 minutes

It's your job

written by and recorded for falsepremise.

After a night sucking oysters with Aziraphale, Crowley just can’t sleep. Perhaps he should hang around in Rome a little longer... After all, tempting a certain angel is his job, isn’t it?

E-rated, 16 minutes. Chapter 1; more chapters coming Fridays from next week!

Agnes' Family Assortment

written by and recorded for @tawnyontumblr.

The devil’s flat (flat 6, Garden Court, 66 Eden Close, London) has been sold at last! Agnes, the resident mother hen, has plans for both her sultry new neighbour, and the lonely angel who lives in the attic flat upstairs. She is not as subtle as she thinks though, and her neighbours fight back.

Chapter 1: Jammy Dodging

T-rated, 35 minutes; More chapters coming up every Tuesday!

At Least Eleven Second First Times

written by enjambament, and recorded for Djap.

Aziraphale deals with the consequences of having a brand new body after he'd broken the last one in for 6,000 years. Crowley helps. Taking a drunk-on-life Aziraphale on an impromptu road trip through French wine country to the North of Spain for a beach holiday is definitely helping, right?

E-rated, 82 minutes

beneath falling wisteria

written by blackeyedblonde, and recorded for Grin.

Crowley and Aziraphale have escaped the madness of Platinum Jubilee weekend in London by staying in the French countryside near Plateau de Valensole. They spend their Sunday afternoon picnicking together among the blooming lavender fields, until a sudden summer thunderstorm drives them to seek shelter.

E-rated, 51 minutes

#Good Omens #podfic #christmas gift exchange

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ioniansunsets · 5 months

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heartsteel christmas dinner 👉👈 who brings what? i can picture Sett staying in the kitchen to prepare ham/turkey 🥰🥰

✖ Heartsteel Celebrating Christmas with You ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.1k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: You host a Xmas party with your partner uwu (posting this early so maybe if you guys like this I’ll write another quick one for the afterparty and gift opening?)

----

Sett was the best person to celebrate with. Mama taught him well, he was there early in the morning, hells, he stayed over the night before. Up before the sun even rose, the two of you spent time lovingly together in the kitchen. Waking up early with Sett kissing the tip of your nose and carrying you to the toilet to freshen up. Trying to keep you awake as he holds your hand and leads you to the kitchen right after. Cooking up a mad delicious Christmas dinner, baking cookies and frosting them together, laughing as he held you close, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, giggling together as frosting gets on his nose and his ears twitch in frustration. It was cold out, but with the oven heated up, his arms around your body and the two of you in sweaters Sett’s mom knitted. Maybe winter was even warmer than summer sometimes.

Kayn was a surprisingly thoughtful guy. He knows he can’t cook, he knows he can’t do any cute little handicrafts, he knows his limits. So he does what he does best, help out however he can. Sneaking into stores and buy whatever things you need last minute. Almost a challenge to him finding somewhere selling Christmas Cake and Turkey the day of and somehow still making it to the party early. Staying by your side and trying his best to do exactly as he’s told, you need dishes washed? Its your Christmas gift today, he’s on it. You need someone to decorate the tree? Easy, Rhaast is a surprisingly good at hanging ornaments on trees. You need motivation? Kayn has it covered. A cheeky smile, a soft kiss, loving words of support. He is there. (Hide the presents though, the one thing he doesn’t have is too much self control, Rhaast wants to know, Rhaast has to know, Rhaast found his gift hidden in the locked closet-)

K'Sante straight up tells you to take it easy today. He has friends and connections. You two have a private reservation to the best dinner spot at the roof of an expensive hotel. Sure having a Christmas party at home is sweet and humble but you’re his precious lover! And there was other opportunities to enjoy a warm homely holiday dinner together after you two get married. He was making sure you enjoyed all the glitz and glamor now, friends and family around the two of you, soft music playing in the background as the hotel staff handle all the food and drinks. He holds you close as the two of you overlook the city, lights sparkling both in the stars of the sky and across the ground as the lights in buildings, it was a sight to behold only emphasized by the soft kisses on the back of your neck and the warm hand wrapped around you.

Ezreal was known for holding the wildest of parties, everyone he knows was invited. So nothing was new when he said he would plan things, you just needed to show up and love him. It was a trademark Ezreal party alright. The largest and brightest tree you’ve ever seen set up by the fireplace, a potluck filled with all sorts of dishes from all his friends, decorations strewn across the room and gifts piled up so high in a corner it was almost its own tree, music so loud you heard it before you even stepped in. And when you did step in, eyes meeting his, he immediately blinks to your side, throwing himself at you in the tightest hug he’s given you in a while. A bright smile and a sparkle in his eyes before his lips meet yours, still almost embarrassing to be loved so brightly in front of everyone but at the same time so endearing to know how much he loves you to show you off like this. As everyone else talks loudly all around you, Ezreal sits by your side, one hand firmly clasped in yours under the table as he eats with the other.

Yone was more of a, “ I just want to spend time alone with you this weekend.” kind of guy. Something sweet and different about going out with him on a Christmas date, laughing together as you two go to ice skate (he tries and is graceful most of the time but when he trips and stumbles it is so cute), hands in yours as you two walk around in the evening, enjoying the lights as other sickly sweet couples walk past you. As the night comes and the air gets colder, he would hold you close, wrapping a scarf around you, hands wrapped around yours as he drives you to a dinner reservation in the heart of the city. Nothing too expensive but nothing to cheap either, it was a nice restaurant that he has brought you many times before, just that tonight there was a Christmas special menu, cute decor seen throughout the establishment as you two walk in. There was really just something nice about spending the whole day alone with each other for company. Maybe he was just old or sentimental, but he wouldn’t trade all this for anything.

Aphelios wants to be alone with you but at the same time, he loves his sister and band. So as a compromise, you two celebrate with Heartsteel at night but spend the morning in each others arms as he stays over the night before. Cold weather meant that snuggling up together as you wake up late, soft smiles and softer kisses in the warmth of the bed. Lazy mornings as Aphelios slowly gets up to get the two of you breakfast. With hot chocolate in one hand and some cute pastries in the other, soft music playing in the background, and your partner laying lovingly on your shoulder, this was truly the epitome of winter romance. Getting dressed together, adjusting each other’s hair and outfits, excitedly walking out of your place back to Heartsteel dorms to spend time with his family (both blood and non-blood related). Sure it was noisy with the other boys around, but when you two quietly sit on the couch, Aphelios could secretly admire you as your eyes light up, talking and interacting with everyone important to him. There was a soft of comforting silence enveloping his daydreams around you.

#Anon Answer #Shieda Kayn #Ezreal #K'Sante #Sett #Yone #Aphelios #Heartsteel x Reader #Heartsteel Kayn x Reader #Heartsteel Ezreal x Reader #Heartsteel K'Sante x Redaer #Heartsteel Aphelios x Reader #Heartsteel Yone x Reader #Heartsteel #DRABBLE #Merry Christmas with League Boys #i hope its not too weird lmfao i dont actually celebrate christmas past exchanging gifts sometimes HAHAHSODHAOD

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geminison · 5 months

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“Ancient beast mauled by man’s hand hangs in the air. Its last mournful song tears through the refinery making walls shake but you can’t hear anything. The oil glows bright blue and its smell tickles your nostrils.

Here’s your key. The key to a new age.”

My @dishonoredgiftexchange gift for @karnaca78! I decided to pick “whale oil” as my prompt

#dishonored #esmond roseburrow #dishonoured gift exchange #i decided to not put it out on Christmas bc 1)it came out a bit dark 2)I continued to wrestle with this piece until the last minute #art tag

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princeoxca · 1 year

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my gift for @thesupremequeen in the @namurigiftexchange. I hope you like it!

extra (poor namor lmao):

#black panther #black panther wakanda forever #shuri x namor #mcu namor #namor #nashuri #namuri gift exchange #thesupremequeen #christmas gift #seaprincess #seaprincess gift exchange #like just imagine if they had a kid #they would be so cute #and namor happy with shuri showing him mercy and giving him a second chance I just #I’m back and unhinged y’all #i how this looks good I couldn’t draw much this month hahha

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cumulo-stratus · 4 months

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Flashback

Pairing: dad!Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

Summary: spencer discusses his thoughts around having kids with his spouse after putting their daughter Diana to bed.

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse/addiction, mentions of cannon typical violence, discussions of having kids(obviously), poor insecure Spencer 🥺🥺

A/N : this was written for the @cmgiftexchange!! I wrote this for @omgbigfluffwriting, I hope you enjoy it and that I did your prompt well!! Merry Christmas <33

wc: 1.7k

The sound of giggling filled the Reid household as you chased the mini-Reid through the kitchen and into the living area. When you finally caught Diana you slipped your hands under her arms and swung her up onto your hip with a cheer. When you both finally caught your breaths you made eye contact with your husband who had a scolding look on his face, but there was still a smile twitching at lips at the scene he had just witnessed. “You know she has to be in bed in- 15 minutes!” Spencer paused and looked down at his watch to emphasize his point about how close it was to Diana's bed time. You just sighed dramatically and addressed your daughter “Well, I think your dads right- we gotta get you to bed- it's a school night!”.

After much kid wrangling and only one bedtime story bribe, Diana was sound asleep and safe- leaving you and your husband for some alone time together. After so many years of being together, you and Spencer dont find there's a need to fill the silence you're often draped in.

But that night the silence got Spencer thinking. Thinking about you, thinking about Diana, thinking about the life he's built for himself. If he was being honest with himself he never thought he would be here. A spouse and a child, a house. It was more than 23 years old Dr. Spencer Reid, new BAU agent could have possibly imagined. A spouse, let alone a child.

Those thoughts were even more discouraged when he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankle. Spencer considered that one of his lowest points, he had been tortured and drugged- how could it not be. That's not even to mention the addiction that followed. He was in pieces, mentally and physically. Even after he got clean, Spencer often told himself that he wasn't worthy of children. That he would be worse than his own dad. And without you there to reassure him as you often did after you met, these beliefs solidified in his mind.

“Y/n?” You looked over at Spencer from where you were lying across from him on the couch. Your questioning look was enough of an answer for Spencer so he continued, “did you always want kids? I used to think I didn't deserve kids”. You gave Spencer a look of pity, you hated when he had thoughts at his own expense. And he knew that. But Spencer couldn't help himself.

“First of all, Diana loves you and you're the best father for her- full stop. Second of all, I always wanted kids, I think you did too”. Spencer nodded, he had always wanted kids- it was his mind that told him not to.

“I didn't really start believing that kids were a possibility when I met you”. Spencer smiled warmly when he spoke, his eidetic memory not failing to remember any details from when you first met.

——

Spencer was sat his car that he rarely drove, going to the supermarket, which he rarely did. But it wasn't often that he spiraled into a depressive episode after seeing his girlfriend murdered in front of him, so he thought a change of pace might do him some good. Or more like penelope garcia thought it would do him some goo

That’s how he ended up strolling through the public park on a Tuesday afternoon in april. It was sunny and warm, a stark contrast to the sunken purple bags under Spencer's eyes and the wrinkly shirt that probably should’ve been washed before leaving the house.

But you- in spencers eyes you were a beauty unto yourself, regardless of what you were wearing. That was one thing that hadn’t changed since he met you, and he swore never would.

To be honest, it was by luck that Spencer had run into you; you were with your nephew as babysitter for the day when he started bothering spencer. Needless to say you were very apologetic.

“Tom, no! leave that man alone! i'm so sorry sir, he doesn't mean it”

You were extremely apologetic, ushering your nephew away from the stranger. Spencer was flustered but understanding, red evident on his cheeks.

Skip to a few hours later and Spencer had spent the entire time with you. It was the best Spencer had felt in weeks, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

That night he couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened; walking around with you, talking with you, meeting your nephew and sister. Spending time with your nephew, it got him thinking. Spencer had tucked away the idea of having kids far into a little nook into his mind, and spending time with Tom dredged it up from the depths of his brain.

Despite still reeling with the death of his girlfriend, Spencer still couldn't get the thought of having kids and being a dad out of his head. It nagged at him all the time, and the thoughts got loud when he was with you. Picturing you as a parent during your coffee dates.

Although Spencer Reid has an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, it still took him weeks to realize why he couldn’t get the thought of children out of his head; because he wanted to be a dad. He wanted to care for someone, knowing that they rely on him.

——

“Spencer? Spence?”

Spencer is pulled from his thoughts of when the couple first met by your soft voice. You had a small look of concern on your face at your husband's lack of awareness of the current reality. Spencer hummed in response to ease your worries. “What's got you with that Spencer Reid Far Off Look ™ in your eyes huh?” you asked. Spencer chuckles, and responds, “Just thinking about when we first met… after Maeve died- it's what got me thinking about having kids you know-”. it's your turn to chuckle now, remembering the embarrassment of having to usher away your nephew. Though your eyes held a sympathetic look at the mention of maeve, it would always be a bit of a sensitive subject.

“Ya, we have tom to thank for that. But I didn't know that's when you started thinking of kids- I thought it was later, when you first talked to me about it”.

——

It was 1:03 am, and Spencer was still awake, to be fair he had just gotten back from a bad case. It was always bad when it involved kids, Spencer couldn't get the face of the little girl they couldn't save in time out of his head. Thoughts raced through his head, but he would never tell you about them- after all you had only been together for a couple months. Spencer couldn't risk being that vulnerable with you.

So here he was, tossing and turning at one am over a case he couldn't get out of his head- trying not to wake up the sleeping figure beside him. He couldn't stop thinking about if that little girl had been his little girl. What would he do then? Spencer didn’t know if he could handle having another human rely on him so heavily- what if he let them down. What if he became like his own father, something he swore he would never do.

In all of Spencer's spiraling thoughts he hadn’t noticed that you had woken up from the constant shifting of the bed, which was caused by his incessant tossing and turning in bed. You noticed the look in Spencer's eyes was one you knew well, it was a look that said the gears were turning a little too fast in that big beautiful brain of his.

But before you could say anything, Spencer got to it first. “Would I- would I be a good dad?” You were caught off guard by Spencer's question, not expecting him to bring that up. But you could tell Spencer had been thinking about it for a while, if the worry crease between his eyebrows was anything to go by.

“I think you’d be a great dad spence- your kind, your caring, you have an amazing compacité to be there for other people, i think especially if it was your kid..”

You speak in a quiet, comforting tone in order to release at least some of the anxiety your boyfriend is harboring. In an effort to punctuate your point you give Spencer a small squeeze on the arm, hoping it would provide at least a little bit of comfort.

Spencer offered a nod in response not quite knowing what to say to his partner's kindness. Instead of speaking Spencer just rolled from the other side of the bed into your warm embrace, which contrasted the cool breeze from the open window.

——

Spencer comes back from his thoughts by the sound of small feet pitter pattering on the hardwood floors. you don't comment on your husband's spacey-ness that evening, instead opting to sit up and find the source of the sound.

Which you find out to be the small feet of Diana Reid, who had woken up from a bad dream and sought out the comfort of her parents. Her small frame struggled to climb onto the large bed, so Spencer lifted her up by her armpits and placed her between him and you.

“Cant sleep?”

You ask though the dark, soothingly running your fingers through her curly hair.

“ya.. i had a bad dream and couldn’t fall back asleep”

Her voice is small, the six year old still a bit embarrassed at needing to sleep in her parents bedroom, but Spencer's calming hand running up and down her back helped ease some of the embarrassment and helped her sink into her loving parents arms.

“That’s okay, you can always sleep in here with us if you want”

Spencer says as he kisses Diana's head, and the little girl is already falling asleep in the couple's arms. Both Spencer and you look down at your daughter, now fast asleep in between you, and it puts a smile on your faces. And you can't help but lean over and place a haste kiss on spencers lips and say;

“You know I told you you’d be a good dad”

you had a bit of a sly smirk on your face as Spencer chuckled, and he responded “I guess you were right huh”. And that's how the Reid family fell asleep, contented in each other's arms.

The End

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ssahopelessly · 5 months

Text

Gift Exchange

Synopsis: It’s the holidays at the BAU and that only means one thing - Secret Santa gift exchange.

Prompt: “Character only wanted to reveal that they are someone's Secret Santa at the BAU Christmas Party but they end up confessing a lot more than that.” from @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party challenge. {A.N. I did not see this prompt until AFTER I wrote this but close enough.}

Warnings: Spencer Reid x fem!reader, work-place crush, Secret Santa, Spencer is dumb and scared of his own feelings. It’s basic fluff. [let me know any I missed]

Word Count: 4.5k

Masterist

You had only been at the BAU for a few months when suddenly it was the end of November. Thankfully, there hadn’t been a case, so you were able to slip away for an extended weekend to relax and renew before the workload of the final month of the year. Derek had taken you under his wing in a way, and upon your December return, warned you that normally December was the unpredictable predictable month. “What does that even mean?” You had asked while walking into the roundtable room one Monday morning.

“Kid, the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas is notoriously crime ridden. People lose their minds between financial stress and familial stress, and- look, all I’m saying is don’t make any solid plans for the month of December.” With Derek sitting two seats to Spencer's left, you squeezed yourself into the space between them, careful not to bother Spencer’s personal space as you brought yourself closer to the edge of the table.

“What about New Years?” You had tried to ask him, running the potential for an end of the year getaway in your head.

“Actually,” It was natural Spencer cut in, never able to miss a chance to share the information he knew, “the month of December mostly sees crimes revolving around material and monetary gain, crimes like theft and larceny increasing by 20% according to the National Crime Victimization Survey. The summer is when studies show the most violent and heinous crimes occur, specifically on the hotter days.” Derek rolled his eyes, beginning to flip through the small collected pile of paperwork he had carried into the room with him.

“Good morning Spencer.” You chose to greet him, already feeling the easy joy that came from being in his presence.

“Good morning.” It was an effort to not notice the way his voice shrunk back in on itself as your knee accidentally bumped him under the table, not quite catching the side glance Derek was giving you both either.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a running pool in the office. Just a small wager of $50, Derek had bet Emily that Spencer wouldn’t make a move before the New Year. Emily, ever confident in Spencer, insisted Spencer would make some gesture if the proper environment had presented itself. They were both coming up empty handed against the running clock as it had been a few months and neither you nor Spencer seemed to want to push anything further than coworkers, maybe friends.

What they had somehow missed though, were the small lunch runs you two would do for the team, or the few times Spencer had lended you his coat in the colder states, or the way he stayed late in the office with you to help with paperwork. They had missed the moments alone with Spencer that had meant everything to you. Well everything, if having a crush on your coworker wasn’t completely unprofessional and if you also weren’t always surrounded by the people who should be able to read that truth out of you.

The rest of the team had filed in, Penelope the last one to enter, just behind Emily and JJ though. “Okay my lovelies, before I present your next adventure, a small side quest!” Penelope put her things down on the table before picking up a small gift bag, rattling its contents around to your confusion. She clocked it before you could say anything and motioning her hand underneath the bag, motioned to everyone around the table. “Secret Santa!” There was a small groan through the room that was then met with a stern glare from Penelope herself before she returned to presenting the festivity. “I’ll pass the bag around so you all can draw your people. The gift limit is $25 so, no pressure.” She passed the bag to Aaron who, without much ceremony, pulled his drawing out and quickly read it as he passed the bag to Derek. Derek however, closed the bag at its opening and shook the contents before drawing his pick, trying to keep any emotions from his face as he passed it to you.

“What happens if we draw ourselves?” You asked as your hand slipped into the bag and felt around the slips of paper.

“Then put it back, draw again.” Penelope offered as she watched you try to make your drawing. And you tried not to think too much about how you wanted to draw Spencer’s name. Surely if you had asked, he could give you the odds of that right now. But also, the longer you took, the more attention you were drawing to yourself and it was just a work gift exchange anyway, you could always find another time to give him a gift later. Your fingertips graced over one slip for the final time and pinching it between, you drew it out of the bag. Leaning back in the chair you opened it to see one name singularly scribbled in her favourite glitter gel pen: Penelope.

“Not me!” You cheered with minimal enthusiasm, passing the bag to Spencer. There was a slight tremble to your hand when your touch graced his, but you tried to ignore it as you slipped your pick into your work folder, trying to push the small let down from your mind.

“Can I request no home made gifts this year?” Rossi had asked from his spot across from Aaron, leaned back in his chair as the bag continued around the table.

“Are you talking about the homemade socks I got you last year?” Penelope whispered out, small upset hanging off her jutted bottom lip.

“The socks I helped her make last year?” Spencer chimed in with reflected upset. Dave looked like he regretted his request but persisted.

“Kids, look, I love the thought and effort that went into them but they’re not really my style. They were ithcy and- not all of us can show up to crime scene with silly socks and be taken seriously.” Spencer smiled and shrugged at the allusion to his fashion sense. Eventually the bag made it around the table and Penelope delivered her case, with Hotch giving the room the standard wheels up in 30 order, everyone quickly dispersing to collect their things for this new case.

As everyone made their way out of the room, you tried to linger in an attempt to talk to Spencer. “Who’d you get?” You asked when it was just you two in the room, keeping your voice low so only he could hear.

“What?” He hadn’t given you his full attention, mind focused on getting his things into his satchel precisely how he wanted them, a task you had seen a few times before.

“For Secret Santa?”

“Oh. I- I can’t tell you that.” His attention still didn’t fall to you as he closed his bag and started making his way down the few stairs to his desk. You stayed hot on his heels, wanting to discuss secrets like you were a kid again. But he still didn’t pay you any attention, making himself busy with the things on his desk, moving what he could to the drawers as if that would help the clutter that always lingered on the surface. .

Purposefully putting yourself in his way, you took a seat in his desk chair, offering your best pleading eyes as you looked up at him, “Please?”

“It’s a secret! What if I told you and then you told them?” Spencer finally did look down to you, and for the first time you saw a bit of irritation in the way he was looking at you, but his voice still stayed low in the near whisper you had been maintaining.

“I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.” You tried to reassure him.

“I know but…” You were distracted by the way he bit lip before shaking his head, hair falling from behind his ear. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll tell you who I got.” Was your offered bribe, to level the field of secrets. But Spencer was firm in his decision, shaking his head as he reached for his go-bag. “You’re no fun.” The words seemed to have no effect on him, a small soft smile still pulling at his lips.

“Sorry.” Letting your smile reflect his, you rolled your eyes before going back over to your desk to get ready for the jet, trying not to think about how the anticipation of who got you was going to consume your thoughts.

A month had come and gone and five days before Christmas, just as you had returned from what was thankfully a short case, the team managed to hold their little holiday party at Rossi’s. Your gift for Penelope had been something you picked out after a week of consideration and kept put away in a nice gift bag at the back of a drawer that should’ve been full of paperwork.

You weren’t supposed to profile each other, but as the days passed you grew only more curious about who had pulled your name. No one paid you extra attention, no blatant ‘what’s something you want for Christmas’ and in the same way, Spencer never said anything more about Secret Santa or who his pick was. You tried everything to get him to tell you, but he remained firm in his practice of keeping this one thing from you.

It was unanimously decided that Rossi would host the get together like he did all big team events, the team slowly trickling into the house after only having three hours between getting off the jet and agreeing to be there. Once everyone was there, and had their share of snacks from the provided buffet, Penelope gained control of the room like it was the roundtable room all over again. “Okay, this year, whoever has worked in the bureau the longest gets to go first.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks Garcia.” Dave didnt even have to move far, passing a small box to Aaron. You could’ve sworn a “Merry Christmas” was grumbled out, only evidence of so being the smile and laughter that pulled at Aarons mouth as he took the lid off the hand sized box.

“Wow, a gift card to Sutton Suits.” To his credit, Aaron did actually sound excited, which seemed to lighten Rossi for just a minute.

“Tell Oscar I sent you, and he’ll slip a quality cigar into your purchase.”

“Noted.” Their laughter died amongst them as Aaron then passed a red plaid gift wrapped object to Spencer, a sense of wonder settling over the room. Spencer was smiling though, now on the edge of his seat as his fingers slipped along the surface of the gift wrap, looking for a seam.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” He asked in a way that a laugh came out, gently tearing the paper away to reveal another book for Spencer’s collection.

“It’s a compilation of the ranked, most challenging published crossword puzzles from the last 35 years. I thought you’d enjoy.” Aaron explained to both Spencer and the team, your attention captured by Spencer as he pressed his thumb along the edge of the book, flipping through the many crossword puzzles that lined the pages. That one smile you’d grown fond of pulled at the corner of his mouth before he looked back at Aaron, full smile overtaking his face.

“Thank you, Hotch.”

The rest of the exchange went a little something like that. Derek got JJ some gift certificates to a new gym that was opening near her house, and JJ in turn got Derek a bulk bag of door hinges since “you don’t seem to know what those are” but then added he could use them in his house renovations. Penelope got Emily a scrapbook of photos full of Sergio and all the adventures she missed while in WITSEC and Emily got Dave a bottle of whiskey, which he thanked her for getting “the right kind” but then scolded her for spending too much on a gift.

By the time it was your turn, you had realised two things: Spencer hadn’t gone, and no one had given you a gift yet. And you surely hadn’t pulled your name but when you looked over to him, to suggest he go so you could confirm your new forming theory, he wouldn’t look at you. “Has Spencer gone yet?” You asked more so to Penelope, who had essentially made herself the leader of this whole exchange. The puzzled expression of her face held as she looked over to him, a small pout forming on her lips.

“No, no he has not.” The anxiety was creeping up the back of your neck, and just when you thought he had been caught, that you would get your answer, ever the gentleman he was.

“It’s okay, you can go.”

“But you’ve been at the BAU longer.”

“It’s fine. Go.” His voice softly encouraged you from where he sat, next to David’s Christmas tree. Pulling the bag from the side of your chair, you passed the glitter covered gift bag to Penelope, who beamed like she just won the lottery.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” She seemed genuinely excited, weighing the bag in her palm before tearing away at the tissue paper.

“Surprise!” You watched as her jaw fell, hand pulling out the first item. A pink bedazzled stapler, tiny pink rhinestones covering the whole surface.

“Shut up!”

“And there’s pink staples inside, just for you.” Your voice grew quieter as she still seemed ever so thrilled to be opening a present.

She pulled the matching tape dispenser out before finding the pink legal pad and new pink poof pen, one that lit up when the ink was pressed to write. “Where did you find all of this? My dreams?”

“I have my ways.” Putting everything back in the bag, she got up to give you a hug, pulling you tightly into her arms as everyone around you laughed and cheered. Their applause died down when she sat back down, all the attention falling to Spencer.

“Alright lover boy, your turn.” When you watched him then, you could see how nervous he had become, a slight tremble in his hand as he pulled the massive bag from its hiding spot, a bag that stood up to his knee height from the floor.

“You probably figured it out by now.” He whispered to you as he brought the bag closer.

“What’d you get her? Your heart?” Derek remarked from where he sat next to Emily, who was quick to elbow him in the side. Spencer must have registered his words as he had a jerk reaction to it like he briefly choked on something, but he was quick to return to his normal behavior, avoiding your eyes as he returned to his seat. From there though, he seemed more comfortable to make eye contact with you, lips curling in to lick them before trying to find his words again.

“What is it?” You beat him to it, but the smile that had formed on your lips seemed to put him at ease as he reflected it to you.

“Just open it.” Was his simple instruction as he leaned back in his seat, knee bouncing in subtle anticipation. Prying the sealed gift bag open, you were met with a familiar black fabric, though without the pilling that you were almost used to. With both hands you pulled it from the bag on the floor, up into the air to get a better look at it. It was a new black peacoat, your size and everything. Bringing it to your lap, you immediately looked to Spencer who was biting his lip, waiting for your response.

“Thank you!” Were the few words you were able to come up with, the simplicity seeming to make Spencer relax again

“Well come on, try it on for us!” Penelope called from her seat, reminding you that the whole team was watching this gesture in action. Standing, you unfasted the buttons and slipped your arms into the satin lining, already imagining how warm the cold weather cases were going to become.

You tried not to think of the first time Spencer let you borrow his jacket, how it was still warm from his own body heat. How the scents of his cologne and laundry detergent wafted around you like a scarf, forcing you to smell and think of him despite trying to focus on the crime scene you had been visiting that day. How the second and third cold weather case you had again asked for the jacket, but by the fourth and fifth case and so on he had offered it to you, always smiling when you slipped it on. “Borrowing your boyfriends jacket?” Derek had taunted you one day, in earshot of Spencer who failed to fight the blush on his cheeks. It was such a simple thing, but knowing you had your own black peacoat, and that of all people, Spencer, had been the one to get it for you meant everything.

Slipping a hand into a pocket, you felt a piece of paper, small and folded hiding within. Immediately looking back to Spencer, he just offered you a smile and a wink, patting the same spot on his cardigan as if he knew what you were about to say.

“Ooo la la, why have we seen this look on you before?” JJ asked more to the room than you specifically, and again you looked to Spencer, who seemed to be in his own thoughts, a small blush rising to his cheeks.

“Because she always borrows my jacket, I thought she should have one of her own.” There was something in the way he was looking at you, a gentle fondness that you had only ever seen from him a handful of times.

“And all for $25?” Emily added to the questioning. “Where did you get such a deal?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Aaron tried to spare you both and reign in the team. “That is a nice coat though. Well done.” The blush had stayed on his cheeks and while you slipped the coat off your arms, you made sure to reach for the note before slipping the coat back into the bag.

“Now, we eat!” David cheered over the room, everyone vacating their spots to head towards the kitchen. You lingered in an effort to read the note, opening it in the palm of your hand.

“I need to talk to you.” Scribbled Spencer’s hand writing before signing off on it with a singular S.

“Are you coming?” His voice caught your attention, unaware he was beside you this whole time.

“Spencer, I-“

“Later.” He was quick to cut you off before motioning with an extended hand for you to walk in front of him towards the dining table.

After dinner, night started to fall noticeably over the Rossi Mansion. All conversations had lost their focus and everyones laughter was bordering into delirious bouts of nonsense. Before anyone could leave, Dave asked that people either make leftover plates to take home or help clean up the dishes into the kitchen so all he really needed to do was wash them (or load the dishwasher, whichever one happened first).

With everyone winding down and getting ready to say their farewells for the evening, you tried to get Spencer alone for just a second, yet he always seemed to find something to do. It wasn’t like he was avoiding you, he kept looking at you, smiling that same soft smile, but he also made an effort to not be alone in the same room as you. “Everything okay?” Derek had asked as you watched Spencer and Penelope clean up the wrappings and trash of the Secret Santa gift exchange.

“He’s avoiding me.”

“What?”

“He bought me this nice ass jacket and now he’s avoiding me.” You mused aloud, never bothering to actually look at Derek, still watching how Spencer would bend down to reach between the chairs for scraps of torn gift wrap. “Why would he do that?”

“Listen, we are profilers,” Derek started, now also watching Spencer, “but there’s no science for what goes on in his mind.”

“I-” Were you really about to air out your inner thoughts to Derek, surely the one person on the team who would give you advice if not for the cost of also holding those same thoughts over your head later? “I need to talk to him. But he’s…” Your words fell short as you watched Spencer look around the living room, confirming all the trash had been picked up. He started pulling on his sweater before he looked at you, saw Derek, and immediately turned to Penelope and Emily to offer his assistance in loading their cars. “Avoiding me.”

“It’s not you.”

“What?”

“He’s avoiding himself.”

“It’s Spencer. He-” You thought about how forward everything had been. The jacket, the note, the concept of the present itself. How one minute he was confident and charming and the next second he was unsure and slightly distant. “Why would he do that?”

“Say the first part of your sentence again.” A chuckle came from Derek’s lips as you thought it over: It’s Spencer.

“Why would he do that?” You repeated, hoping to maybe get a different answer from him.

Taking too much enjoyment in the obvious pining, Derek just laughed, “Back to the first answer: there’s no logic, rhyme or reason.”

“It’s Spencer.” You concluded aloud now for your own understanding, hoping everything would start to make sense.

“You got it.”

Spencer had come back inside just for Dave to start corralling everyone out of the house. “You don’t have to go home, but you cannot stay here.” He had said as everyone started to say their final goodbyes for the night. There were hugs all around, many variations of holiday wishes for the extended weekend everyone was about to embark on.

“Hey, can you give Spencer a ride home?” Emily had asked as she pulled away from her goodbye hug.

“Excuse me?” He called several feet away from where he had been on the fringes of a conversation between Aaron and JJ.

“Is everything okay?” You had asked her, looking her once over as if the answer was somewhere on her person.

“Yeah. Penelope ordered something to my address and I’m supposed to drop it off at her apartment after and, well I forgot. Besides, don’t want to keep Reid out past his bedtime.” She had tried to joke but he crossed over to your conversation now, slight upset over his face.

“I don’t have a bedtime!” He had tried to protest.

All to be met with a “yes you do,” from the members of the team that were still left. The pout in protest pulled his bottom lip out from under his top, and he finally turned to look at you. His attention shouldn’t have felt like a reward, but being treated with an imaginary ten foot pole in his attempt to keep distance wasn’t a fond feeling either.

You tried to offer him some semblance of comfort but he just turned on his heels to grab his bag from Emily’s car, sulking back over to your car. “Good luck.” Emily whispered to you before turning back to her car.

Climbing into your car, you noticed how Spencer was content to sit completely still and rigid in his seat, his knee bouncing as he brought his fingers to press to his lips.

“Are you okay?” It was an attempt at bursting the bubble that had formed around you two, keeping you in separate worlds from the other.

“I’m fine.” He huffed, answer too short and to the point.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not.” You heard it then. The rise of an octave, the unbelievable deflection.

“You are.” He settled further into his seat as you drove out of the DC suburbs and closer to where your apartments were. “Did I do something wrong?” Your voice fell then, insecurity creeping in at the thought that maybe you had unknowingly done something to upset him.

“What?” His voice wasn’t high in pitch this time, but soft in tone as he snapped his attention to you. “Why would you think-”

“Well, you gave me a really nice gift and asked to speak to me later and then spent the rest of the evening avoiding me. So I thought maybe I just did something to offend you, so…”

“I’m not… offended.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I,” his head fell back, hitting the head rest before he blew out some air from his pressed lips, looking over to you to watch your reaction to his next words, “I like you.”

“Well yeah. I mean we’re friends, have been friends for quite some time now.”

“No, I mean… I like you, like you.”

“Oh?” A silence had settled as you both took a moment to take in his words, then hoping the other would say something to end the silence. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” It offered him the chance to laugh. Not like he was insulted, but more he thought it was funny that you weren’t sure if he was sure.

“I mean- I think I get it. But why did you spend the rest of the night avoiding me?”

“Because,” you came to a red light while you waited for his answer, looking to him to see he had already been watching you, “I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same.” He started to shy away from you again, eyes avoiding meeting yours no matter how long you thought you’d been staring at him.

“What if I do?” You reached for his hand in between your two seats, fingers gently securing through his, waiting to see if he would pull away. This grabbed his attention, hopeful eyes finally looking into yours now. “What if I do, like you, like you?”

“Then I would be thrilled.” It was sweet, the feeling of understanding, of mutual endearment for the other while he held your hand there, paying no mind to the red light above you both. But like a sign from above, it turned green, reflecting off the interior of the car.

There were so many things you wanted to commit to memory, in the same way he would without half the effort. You wanted to remember the way he looked at you, the way it felt to be under his gaze with this new meaning. You wanted to remember the way it felt to hold his hand, or the way it felt to have his thumbing small circles into your hand. The way you couldn’t fight the smile as it took over your lips, or the way he seemed to feel the same way. But most of all, you wanted to remember how it felt to be in that moment with him, mind swimming with possibilities of what this would mean for the future.

Tell me what you think here.

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