My favourite wincest fics recs

(because it's a duty and a service)

Other Brothers by homo_pink

summary: A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.

reader note: top three favourite fic of all time, thinking of that post 'I'm never not thinking about other brothers by homo_pink' me too. Outisde POV, pre-series sam/dean

Flowers in the Impala by Evandar

summary: Kate wants them to be a family - really, she does - but there's something wrong with John's boys.

reader note: oh it's a delicious outside POV of how fucking weird our boys are. Pre-series sam/dean

Squint into the Sunset | Glare into the Gloaming by Dyed_Red

summary: The 70k-word nonlinear coming of age story that literally no one asked for.

"I know you want to give him the world, Dean, but you were never supposed to give him this."

reader note: I feel like this is an underrated fic, I really enjoyed it and I'd put it up there with the invisible boy series!

Howls in my bones by weefaol

summary: When John gets a call to investigate a series of grisly animal killings, he drops Sam and Dean at an abandoned cabin two towns over. The boys find ways to keep busy — playing cards, watching movies, chopping wood — but with a howling winter storm on the way, there’s nowhere for Sam to hide his illicit feelings for his older brother.

As the lure of desire threatens to devour him, Sam must learn to face the wolves that lurk outside and the monsters within.

reader note: so beautiful, one of my favourites. pre-series sam/dean

Letters from a Half-Finished Boy by homo_pink

summary: Dean discovers a secret journal Sammy's been writing in.

reader note: homo_pink again, I love all their spn fics. Oh angst teenage sammy I love you

Hot singles in your area by applecrumbledore

summary: In the video, the camera crawled up the kid’s body like a pair of lascivious eyes. The pan upwards revealed a sweet, pointed nose, and a mole to the left side of that nose.

Dean froze, watching. The kid’s eyes opened when the camera was still on his face, pupils darting nervously away, and those eyes were hazel green. A specific kind of hazel green that Dean had spent exactly thirty-six years looking at.

readers note: obsessed with the way Dean hunts down the guy Sam did porn with 21 years ago or so it's so canonically dean like that's exactly what he would do

Sickness

Natalie Scatorccio x reader

NOT PROOFREAD

MASTERLIST

A/n: hi y'all!!! Sooo... sorry this isn't a request but a couple of days ago I was really sick and I thought "I wouldn't survive a day in the wilderness during winter" so I basically created a scenario where the reader gets a fever while stranded. Enjoy:)

After that cursed night when the desperation got the best of all of you and you all ended up banqueting over poor (but perfectly cooked) Jackie, everything started going even more down hill that you thought was possible.

The weather grew colder, there was no game in sight which was getting Natalie extremely frustrated and Lottie's cult started to form.

Your days were spent chopping wood in the burning cold, helping Mary in the kitchen trying to make the most of whatever you had or simply staying in the living room under a blanket, facing the fire and getting warm.

One particular morning Taissa took down a huge tree after you realized that soon the wood you saved up for the cabin was going to run out. So when she was done she passed you the axe and headed back to the cabin leaving you alone.

Soon enough it started to snow, and it's not like you could just go back inside, if you did everyone would freeze to death that night, and you thought to yourself "If Nat and Travis go out in the snow every day I can stay out here a little longer'

So you did. After four hours you had enough wood for a few days but you decided to keep going, chopping some more.

"What are you doing out here during a fucking blizzard y/n?" Suddenly a voice called out, Natalie and Travis came back from their daily (failed) hunt

"Chopping wood" you simply said, and Natalie shook her head "Come inside, you're gonna get sick, you're not used to staying in the cold for this long" she placed her hand on your back, guiding you back to the cabin.

At dinner time Mari served the watery soup she prepared and you all chugged it down to at least get the brief feeling of fullness for a while, Natalie sat next to you, her elbow colliding with yours every time she raised the cup to her lips.

Suddenly you let out a small cough and Nat's eyes immediately shifted on you with a worried expression "You okay?" She asked, you simply nodded and acted as if it wasn't a big deal.

"You ready to sleep?" Natalie asked as she got comfortable in your shared makeshift bed, you sat next to her with a tired look on your face, and Nat immediately realized that it wasn't just because you needed some sleep, she wrapped her arms around you and pulled you to her, placing a hand on your burning forehead "Shit" she mumbled "you're sick baby, you have a fever" you rested your back on her chest, closing your eyes, slowly the fever started to rise and suddenly you heard Natalie talking to Van "Wet this cloth with cold water or something we need to keep the fever down"

Seconds later the cloth was placed on your forehead and you softly whined at the contact "shhhh...I know it's cold but it will help" she cooed in your ear, suddenly you ended up in a coughing fit, your girlfriend's eyes widened and she instantly rubbed your back trying to reassure you.

After another couple of hours you finally fell asleep in Nat's arms, she stayed awake all night, checking on you and immerging the cloth in cold water periodically.

"Here, it's for her" Natalie heard Lottie mumble, looking up the brunette was holding a necklace with the tooth of the bear she killed at the end of the summer as a charm "It's for protection, the wilderness told me..."

"Shut the fuck up Lottie!" Natalie snapped at her "This is serious she's really sick and your wicca bullshit is not gonna help her, she needs paracetamol and cough syrup so if the wilderness told you where to find that stuff I'll be glad to listen but I doubt that happened so please, please, just leave us alone now"

Slightly hurt by her friend's tone Lottie backed up and went back to her bed, falling asleep.

After a couple of minutes you woke up because of a runny nose, Nat passed you a piece of cloth and waited for you to be done.

"how are you feeling baby?" She asked, scared that you were feeling worse, you cuddled up to her once more and mumbled "I feel the same" and even tho Natalie was slightly relieved that the pain wasn't encasing, she knew that you were still in pain "I'm so sorry y/n, I wish I could do something but I can't do anything and it's just-"

"No... it's okay Nat, you're already doing more than enough for me"

Natalie smiled, cradling your head on her shoulder waiting for you to fall back asleep, hoping that you were going to get better.

Young Mountain Man Pt. 1

It was damn near predetermined that you would be close with William. Being born within just a few months of each other, your mothers became friends. Exchanging blankets and advice on how to care for you both. Due to their closeness, you two were left to play together.

You and him would have hopscotch competitions, kick a ball back and forth and race to the apple tree that was out behind your house.

Your youth was spent with him. Up until he was old enough to go to work with his Pa and you were settling into your own self.

Of course, he still came to visit and you couldn’t help but feel your heart begin to grow attached to him in a new way. Your eyes lingered on his and your gaze would dip to his lips as he was talking. He was becoming very handsome and you couldn’t help but appreciate it.

The reality that you were in love came to under that very apple tree you used to race to. He was sweet and good to you. He had grown into quite the gentleman: holding doors open, picking up some of your dress so you wouldn’t drag it through the mud, helping you on and off your horse and even helping with chores like wood chopping and helping you carry in any heavy objects.

He also was a fantastic person to converse with. He had many ideas and thoughts about the world and how he would run things or opt to change them. He never shut down your opinions on any subject, even if they were a direct contradiction to his view. He had nothing but respect and compassion for you and you had nothing but the same for him.

You were just sitting under the tree, smiling as you thought of your beautiful blonde boy, working on your embroidered dress when you saw the Hatfield’s coming for a visit. You waved to them and began to pick up your things and headed down to meet them.

“Hey there,” Anse said, hopping down from the wagon, “Your Pa home?” He asked.

“Yes sir, he just got back from the store. Hi Levicy! How are you?”

“I am doing fine, how about yourself?” She said as Anse helped her down from the wagon.

William had to have learned it from somewhere, you thought. “I am doing great! Almost done with the dress!” You held it out to the lady and she smiled at the handy work.

“It���s so beautiful. I bet you pricked yourself a few times making it,” she joked, “But it looks like it’ll be worth it.”

Anse looked at the dress, “It’s rather pretty, any special reason?”

“Oh,” you folded it back up as you walked to the door to let your guests in, “I thought it would be a nice dress to wear for birthdays, parties and holidays. No other girl will have a dress like it.”

You opened the door to the house, “Mama! Pa! The Hatfields are here!” You walked to your room and put away the dress and your threads.

“Ah! Anse! Been a while?” You heard your father say, being as loud and boisterous as ever.

“Well Bill, you know how logging is. Busy work. Hear you ain’t doing so bad yourself?”

Your family had gotten its wealth from clothing, textiles and furniture. Your father made wooden furniture that was so beautiful that you couldn’t help but want a piece in your house. The clothing was made by his team of tailors and seamstresses. It was there in his store that you learned your own skills.

“Winters are cold so you need layers and in summer you still gotta be decent. And might as well take a new wardrobe to store it all!”

As you walked out of your room, Levicy was next to speak, “Sylvia! Just the lady I was wanting to see. I heard your apples and peaches have come in heavy this year. Would it bother you if I just picked some for a pie and eating?”

Your Mama was a very giving person, when she had excess that is, “Of course! Bill is already sick of apples.”

Your Pa laughed, “You put ‘em in everything! Sit down you two, rest yourselves.” He motioned for them to sit down in the living room.

“Say,” your Mama began, “It’s been a few months. Where’s your William? Has he got sick of us?”

There was a silence that gave it away that something had happened. You felt your heart begin to quicken.

“Well, we were cutting timber and the tree fell. Some of the splinters caught his eye.”

“Oh goodness,” your mama whispered, “Is he alright now?”

“We thought he was going to have to lose the eye but he won’t. Though, it’s going milky.”

He had been send you letters during those months and hadn’t mentioned it. You frowned, “Did he think that we would say something about it?”

Levicy shook her head, “He doesn’t even like us looking at it right now. It still has redness to it. In a week or two, it’ll be capped over.”

And in a few weeks, you were riding your way up to the Hatfields with the peaches and apples for Levicy. You were excited to see William or Cap as they were now calling him.

It was a good ride and you reached there in time to help Levicy with some dishes before supper, talking about the days of when you were young to pass the time.

“You couldn’t say William so you called him Illy,” she laughed, “It was cute.”

You smiled, “I couldn’t say Anse either.”

“Oh lord! He got so mad that you were calling him Ann but you were just a little thing. Too sweet to be mad at.”

You giggled at little. Thinking and reminiscing always put you in a good mood.

“I want to talk to you about something.” She calmly said.

“Yes?”

“You’re a real sweet girl. Caring and understanding. I know that you and Cap have spent many days together as friends but,” her brown eyes looked into yours, “Do you love him?”

You thought only for a moment before answering, “I do. He’s always there when I need him.”

“Well, that’s good because he’s asked us if he could ask your parents to marry you. I wanted to know if you would be willing before I said yes.”

“He wants to marry me?” You asked, excitement filling your voice.

“Yes. He’s planning on asking them after church tomorrow. I don’t know when exactly he’ll ask you if they say yes but I guess it would be soon.”

Your face began to hurt due to the smile on your face, “I- That’s wonderful!”

“Do you think your parents will approve?”

“Yes! Mama loves him ‘cause he never denies having a second plate and is always sweet to her, says he’s a real gentleman. Pa has said that the only thing he wants for me is to be happy and marry a hard worker! He’s one! Cap is as hard working as any man in West Virginia or even Kentucky.”

“He is!” Levicy said, hugging you. “Now we just gotta wait! Ooh! It’s gonna kill me.”

“It might kill me too!”

Then a small fleet of men came through the door, the Hatfield men were back from logging. Your eyes caught Cap’s and you smiled. He was just as handsome as you remembered. He turned his face to look at you, letting you look at his eye.

It looked like a pearl one of those fancy ladies up in New York and places like that would wear. True that you missed the pair of baby blues but the mismatched set had their own charm. You liked them.

He smiled at you and nodded to you as he took off his hat, a shyness coming to him.

“Hello! Work good today?” You asked the group.

“As well as it always is.” Anse said, taking his hat off.

“Hey,” Cap said, looking at you, “Are you staying for supper or are you heading home?”

“I gotta head home. Mama is busy baking up pies for the Sunday Dinner tomorrow.”

“Your Ma is baking? Oh boy, better wear the pants a size too big tomorrow. She’s one of the best pie bakers in this county.” Johnse joked. It was true. Her secret? A dash of sugar in the egg wash for the crust. A extra sweet hint.

“It’s getting late, I could go with you to make sure you make it home.” Cap offered, his voice had a twinge of hope in it.

“I would like the company and Mama would like an unbiased opinion on her new creation.”

“Aw, can I come too?”

“No, Johnse, but I’ll be sure to tell you about it.” Cap poked at him. A light laugh leaving him.

You and Cap bid the family goodbye, beginning your descent to your house.

The crickets chirped and a faint hoot of an owl sounded ever so often.

“It’s so peaceful.” You said, voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah, real calming.” He responded. “You like looking at the stars?”

“Yeah, but you know how people say you can see pictures in them? I guess I just don’t know which ones to look at.”

“All I know is the Big Dipper an’ Little Dipper. That’s the main two.”

“The big one points north, right?”

“Yup!” He looked over at you, “I know this might be an odd question but, do you have anyone after you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like boys. Wanting to court you and stuff?”

“No, why?” You asked, knowing damn well why.

“Well I- You’re a very pretty girl and pretty girls get asked by many boys.”

“Not a one is coming for me.” You laughed lightly, “They all like that Rosanna McCoy and that red headed girl that’s originally from Georgia.”

Cap was silent, thinking about it. “Well, if you were to have your pick, what kind of man would you pick?”

You smiled, “I like when they do things just to do it, not expect nothing in return. I also like them smart, reading and writing smart. And I guess he’d have to be very fun to be around. What kind of woman would you want?”

“Kind. Peaceable too, some people just argue for the sake of arguing and I don’t like it. I like when girls smile, it’s very pretty. I like pretty things.”

You both talked about your figurative romances til you got home, the sun fully gone from the sky.

“I will let you go in before I leave. Goodnight.”

You smiled at him, “Goodnight, Cap. I will see you Sunday. Oh! And just make something up for the creation.”

He grinned, “I will.”

You walked up the pathway and through the door, turning to look out the small window atop the door to watch him leave.

Northern Attitude pt. 1

Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton

Divorce is hard. it doesn't matter if you're the one who got left, or you're the one doing the leaving. When an unexpected blizzard puts a dangerous twist in Ted's hiking adventures he's rescued by an axe-wielding, lumber-chopping, blonde angel. Oh, and there's only one bed. Warnings: divorce mentions, mentions of Ted's dad, snow storms, let me know if you want me to add anything.

thank you, thank you, thank you to @scuttle-buttle for accidentally inspiring this fic, and to @thisismysecondrodeo for encouraging this madness! @exit-goat thank you, as always, for listening to me ramble

Fic navigation

Divorce is hard. it doesn't matter if you're the one who got left, or you're the one doing the leaving. 

Michelle went on a beach vacation with some friends after the paperwork was finalized.

A trip she'd planned before the ink of his signature had a chance to dry. Not that he blames her. He's seen first-hand the stress the last few years of their marriage had caused. The good lord knows he's gained his fair share of grey hairs too. His temples sprinkled, salt and pepper where a year ago he'd have been lucky to find ten grey strands total. But Michelle has always been better at knowing what she needs and looking after herself. Ted has admired that quality about her since they met, but he can’t help but feel a little bit lost knowing that right now leaving him is what she needs. 

Ted hadn't been offended by Michelle's vacation. It gave him an extra week of the summer break with their son. He'd spent it wisely; taking the time to visit his Ma, knowing how desperate she's always been to spend time with her only grandchild. Ted and Henry spent their days fishing, and helping to fix the front porch, welcomed each night with a home-cooked meal and enough pie to last a lifetime. 

Ted hadn't thought he needed to take a vacation. Henry started school, and Ted returned to work. But, with winter right around the corner, the l impending weight of spending Christmas alone, and six months of introspection under his belt Ted wonders if he too should've found himself a nice beach somewhere. 

Ted's pal Beard is the first to recognise the downturn in his daily disposition. As a great friend and potentially a former spy not much escapes Beard's notice. 

“You're like a Wigwam and a Teepee, Ted”.

“Too tense?” 

“Bingo. Your shoulders haven't lost contact with your ears in days. Your stress has stress. Cut yourself some slack, my friend”.

Ted sighed, “not sure how to go about it, Beardo”. 

“Take a break. Go on a vacation. Michelle did it,” Beard shrugged, as if it was obvious, “I know you think that weighing yourself down with all of this stress is some kind of penance. But, you're not on time out. There's no guilty party here”.

Beard raised some good points, and Ted swallowed them down with a bottle of beer, rolling the pros and cons of all his own considerations around on his tongue. He's never been very good at looking out for himself and he's sorry Beard has to do it for him. 

The trouble, Ted realized in talking to his friend, later on, was never whether he could take a vacation, but rather, where would he go?

There's a lot of the world he'd like to see, but a week or less doesn't seem like nearly enough to do any of his sight-seeing bucket list justice.

Resorts are nice, a chance to enjoy a tropical island breeze and warm sandy beaches. But, he's always burned easily, and with all the thoughts rattling around his head, lounging isn't an option. He’s learned that he needs to keep moving to help release some of his restless energy. While he doesn't pretend to understand the science of it, his mind does seem more compassionate, and each conclusion and assumption feels easier to process when his feet are moving as fast as his brain. 

so, now here he is, hiking through the woods in the middle of winter.

After much consideration, Ted signed himself up for a 5-day, 4-night hiking retreat. 

Day one was spent with a group of fellow adventurers, and a park guide going over survival tips, and trail options; how and where to find help; what to do when encountering a pack of coyotes. Night one is spent in tents provided by the park, falling asleep beneath the stars with a belly full of baked beans and hotdogs cooked over an open fire. 

In the light of day, Ted admires a half-frozen waterfall where one stream becomes another. He takes the time to listen to the birds still chirping in the trees despite the chilly weather, and he stops to munch on a protein bar, and rehydrate while he watches a chipmunk running around looking for snacks. He wishes he was allowed to feed the little guy, but he was told multiple times during the orientation day that sharing snacks with the wildlife is very much against the park rules.

Unlike the first night, Ted will be alone for the rest of his trip. But, fortunately, he doesn't need to set up his own campsite. For the next couple of nights, he’ll stop at the various cabins available to himself and the other hikers in the group. All of the little cottages are set up at convenient checkpoints along the trails. The bare bones of a structure. No hotel by any means. But, it's better than sleeping on the ground. 

As night falls, Ted watches the sunset. The pinks and oranges cast a brilliant glaze across the dusting of snow on the ground.  The stars are just as brilliant a sight, shining brighter, and brighter over the blanket of a darkening sky. 

He lets himself into the nearest vacant cabin with the key code he was given for the week. It's simple but cozy. A cot and fireplace in one corner, a small kitchenette and table for two in the other, and most importantly, a bathroom complete with indoor plumbing and a shower. 

Ted appreciates the quiet. The muffled sound of owls and nighttime critters outside is a nice distraction from his worries and anxieties. Laying in his sleeping bag, on the cot, he stares up at the ceiling, tracing the beams and the knots in the wood with his eyes. After his active day, his body is heavy, but sleep evades him. 

With his eyes shut he watches memories of the last camping trip he took with his father play like a melancholy highlight reel. He only remembers the good parts of those days. His father's laughter, and singing songs by the campfire.

 Ted had been 14 when the two of them drove halfway across the country pitching their tents in 3 different national parks along the way. It had been one of the few times his dad had been able to get time off of work and they took full advantage of it.

 At the time Ted hadn't bothered to take inventory of all the memories they were making together. It was just another spring break. 

At the time, Ted only saw it as a week away from his friends. Days he wouldn't be able to spend at the mall or arcade. He'd been irritated by the lost opportunities to flirt with the cutest girl at school, who happened to work at the ice cream shop around the corner from his house. 

Now, he can see the buried sadness seeping from his father. He can understand how desperately his dad wanted to spend time with him. 

Ted regrets viewing his father as a hindrance to his plans because now he'd do a whole heck of a lot to talk to the man again, to be able to apologize for all the moments he took for granted. But, hindsight is 20/20 and he tries not to hold too much against his younger self. 

He decided years ago when his son Henry was born that he'd do a better job at communicating. He promised himself he'd remind his little boy how much their time together meant to him so that Henry would never have to guess at his motivations. Now, more than ever, Ted hopes Henry knows how much he loves him, even when he's not around every day.

Directing his attention to happier thoughts, and lighter feelings, Ted's chest swells with pride when he thinks about the last time he and Henry saw each other. 

His insomnia left him reeling, as it continues to do most nights, and Henry had found him sitting alone at the kitchen table.

“You've gotta count sheep, Dad!” Henry told him, “that's what mom tells me to do”.

“Your mama's a smart cookie, but I don't know if I can count enough sheep to fall asleep, buddy”.

“Sure you can!” Henry insisted dragging him by the hand back to his bedroom, “I'll help you”.

Henry made it to 12 sheep before drifting off with his face smushed against Ted's shoulder. Ted counted 167 more sheep before finding sleep. 

Ted counts sheep now too. Only 72.

The world is silent when he wakes up. The whole forest has been trapped beneath a heavy fall of snow, glittering white, and untouched. A marshmallow world, Ted grins to himself as he boils water at the fireplace to make a flask of coffee. The small, square breakfast table is big enough for him to spread his park map and trail guide. He traces his path for the day with his finger committing convenient resting points to memory while he enjoys his hot oatmeal for breakfast. 

It's the first time since Ted and Michelle separated that he's felt truly relaxed while he goes about his morning. He focuses on himself, taking the time to trim his mustache and brush his teeth. He makes sure to layer up more than he usually does, expecting the day to be extra chilly. 

He's got about 5 hours of walking ahead of him today. Half of his planned trek is uphill, the other half is downhill on the other side. Ideally, he'll take his time, stopping to take more photos than he did yesterday. 

The sun is still rising slowly, just touching the tops of the trees, when he heads out with his camera hanging around his neck, and his coffee still piping hot in the thermal mug. 

A deep breath of cold winter air fills his lungs, and it tickles his nose, but it smells like moving on-- moving forward. 

He's almost at the top of the hill when the snow starts to fall. It begins slow, light fluffy flakes landing in his eyes lashes. But it grows heavier-- icier. It's cutting and borders on painful as it hits his cheeks, the wind howling around him. 

Stopping for lunch isn't on his list of priorities anymore, instead, he focuses on getting sheltered in the nearest cabin. By the time he's descending, the weather is worse. It's snow like he's never seen before, and his visibility is poor. 

Wet socks are a bad feeling, and Ted starts to regret his choice to take a hiking trip in the winter. His knees ache with the task of shuffling through the deepening snow. But disaster strikes when he makes contact with a patch of ice. With his footing lost, he tumbles. Falling not only to the ground but off the side of the trail. Somersaulting, rolling down the forest incline like a mustachioed snowball.

The world is all white, and he struggles to see even the outline of the trees or the grey sky overhead between his rotations. His shoulder hits what he can only assume is a rock, and he's sent flying. Ted hits the ground with a tremendous thud, and the polar white world turns black. 

I felt a lot better today. The cough is still here but it's mostly just an afterthought. I really enjoyed my day off.

I am still working on not letting guilt take over. I am allowed to enjoy things. I shouldn't feel guilty about it. But it is always a creeping thought in the back of my head.

I slept okay. I woke up very dehydrated again. I don't know how to fix that. But I woke up feeling pretty good.

I got dressed and did some cleaning. Did a bug overall of the clothes I have out right now and sorted through the stuff I deemed summer clothes. But I was honestly overwhelmed. So I decided to just grab anything I felt like I might want to wear in the next few weeks and then sorted those things by type.

I decided to give myself 30 hangers. Figuring i had three types of things. Dresses, tops, and jumpsuits. Then I went through the jumpsuits and I had 6 I wanted out. Which left me 24. I then went through shirts and I had 12 of those. And then 12 dresses. I ended up adding 5 more hangers but I feel great about the choices and that's what matters in the end.

It was still morning. And I said I could play Stardew valley for a while. I am half way through winter now and I have two cows! I am getting a lot better at this thing. I would like sheep by summer. But I used all of my wood so I am not entirely sure how to get more. I chopped down almost everything on my land. But things will grow back and it will be alright.

I started to feel guilt around this time. I was having a lovely time honestly. The weather was perfect. I felt good. My skin is clearing up. But all of a sudden I felt like I should feel guilty about this. About the apartment not being perfectly clean. About not working on my prints. About so many things. I had to push that feeling away.

I know some of it was I just hadn't eaten any real food. But also I just needed to get out of the house.

So I went for a drive. I drove out to the county. I had the MCR playlist that goes from their funnest song to their saddest song using their entire discography. I was scream singing with the volume all the way up. It was great.

I made the poor decision to go to savers first. My hands were shaking very badly half way through my time being there. But I found James a new French press. And I got a lap loom! And I found the most amazing jumpsuit. I also got a trunk. Yes I needed another trunk like a hole in the head but I wanted one for camp. This one is super cool! It's wood inside so the buggies and mice and snakes can't be in there. And it was made in The People's Republic of China. I have never seen a product with that specific lable and thought it was pretty cool. I also like this trunk because it's more square. Kind of like the metal one I used to use for sweaters but now James uses for their extra clothes. And it was only $10.

Self checkout was a mess like always. Not for me but for the whole thing. Like no one knows when to go. Only 3 of the 10 they have were on. It's was a whole thing with people complaining and trying to jump the line and I was just chilling. My hands were shaking and I was just focusing on getting everything in the car and getting food.

I had a coupon and saved almost half. And was super excited. And then it was time to get five guys.

I decided on that rather then tacobell. And it was good. I watched live coverage of the Depp trial and enjoyed my food. I was supposed to go to joann's and get yarn but I decided I was out of steam and it was time to go home.

I had another excellent drive home. And when I got here I muscled the trunk filled with my purchases upstairs. Which took some doing but I made it without hurting myself.

I spent some time trying on things (I got a shirt and a rainbow dress and a piece for my renfair costume) and putting things away. I was in a good mood.

I played video games for a while more. Until James came home and I could show them what I did. And then they played for a while.

I messed with the new loom. The box was missing the shuttle but that's not a huge deal. Sweetp is being very very needy but it is not the worst thing in the world to be needed.

We changed the water in Frenchy's tank. And James made us quesadillas for dinner. And then they had DND. And I spent time playing with the loom. It was nice. Calm.

I got a shower and played video games behind James while they played dnd. Their character plays guitar so they had their guitar out and it was very cute. And now we are in bed. Ready to get some rest.

I think laying down makes this cough worse. Like I have water in my chest. Maybe that's some of the dehydration? I am at the nursery tomorrow. And I am looking forward to it. I hope it's a great day. For you all as well.

Goodnight everyone. Wash your hands.

Eclipse reflection and premonitions for autumn/early winter

I have a good feeling about November. Since the summer ended, I feel collectively we’ve been in a whirlpool of tumultuous emotions. Coming down from the high that was the first ‘real’ summer in two years, we hit hard reality as soon as autumn put its foot in the door. Things are ‘back to normal’ and we’re overwhelmed. In hindsight, the retrogrades were a warning sign of this. As retrogrades do, they flagged us to take one thing at a time, that the momentum of summer is gone. Naturally we’re supposed to slow down in this transition anyway. But we kept pushing, and everyone around me felt ‘crazy’ for lack of better words. I thought my own. Schedule would slow down but inside my head time crunched smaller and smaller, leaving me short of breath.

The eclipse came with the new moon, and I think the energy has completely shifted. This was confirmed by my coworker and another acquaintance- they felt it too. November, and I think until the rest of the year, the energy is going to be about settling and preparing for a slow winter. Think cabin in the woods energy, preparing food and chopping fire wood to be benefitted from as the days grow cold. I personally have a debt I am almost done paying and hopefully am wrapping up my book so it can smoothly reach the hands of others in the next year. I am feeling called to hold loved ones close and cherish small moments with them as we begin the descent into winter. I know finding the balance of closure and holding space for people around me with certainly be a challenge, but if I remember to take things one at a time all will go well.

I am also learning to come back to myself. Unfortunately through this tumultuous period I spent too much time on my phone, too much time neglecting health and well-being, my priorities. I started doing yoga everyday again and it feels so good to be back. I am caring more about what I put in my body too. This is all important for the preparations to come of course, but is helping me show up for myself and others in the present now. I deleted the Instagram app off my phone. I’m walking without headphones more. I hope to be actively reading again in the next week, because I’ve neglected that too. I’m coming home, I’m coming home.

*

A spark of action has ignited in me, but I have to be patient. It will catch fire the beginning of next year, I know it. I have to chop the firewood first to feed the fire.

Week 9, Fall, Year 1

Fall is here! My farm is coming along nicely! I was able to plant twice as many crops this season, due to having sprinklers. Those things are handy! I continued to clear out the trees all over the farm, so I'll be able to really expand next year.

My first dinosaur hatched! I named him Frick. He sure is cute! Speaking of cute, I really want to get a rabbit. Unfortunately I will have to upgrade my coop again. Robin wants 500 wood and 200 stone, along with 20,000 gold to build it so I'm chopping down trees in Cindersap Forest as fast as they grow.

This week I spent a lot of time working on the community center. I'm soooo close to having some of the rooms finished. I am almost done with the fish tank, except for a Sturgeon. How did I miss that during summer? Now I have to wait until winter to fish for it again.

When I wasn't fishing, I was mining. I keep having to revisit floors on the lower levels because I run out of those ores. But I'm slowly working my way towards the bottom of the mines. I hear there's a very lucrative mine someplace in the desert, but I'm not in a hurry to get there. Gotta work on my skills first!

Stardew Impact [Stardew Valley+Genshin Impact x Reader]

Part 2/3 Zhongli, Xiao

Synopsis: “A mysterious phenomenon brought you and your s/o to an unfamiliar world: Pelican Town! Without the power of Visions, the two of you begin to learn the life of what it takes to be...a farmer?”

(DOMESTIC FARM LIFE ROUND TWO)

Genre: Fluff

Others

Diluc and Kaeya

Albedo and Childe

(A/n): This was meant to be part 3 but I couldn't wait to write xiao. Plus Ive been writing Albedo for almost the whole month already Word count_2.6k

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Xiao

• Thrown in an unfamiliar environment puts Xiao on high alert. Instincts kick in and his hand subconciously grabs for his spear. Nothing. Not even his vision activated. Xiao's gaze darts all over before landing on your figure. He sighs in relief, you're safe, that much he can decipher as of now.

• Stripped of his power, left with only claws and teeth (if must) to protect you from any dangers, he was ansty with every little thing. 

• The villagers are so nice??? For what reason must they have to act so friendly to strangers (Xiao wonders). The Mayor even granted you two a vast farmland free of charge. 

• Shortly he realized he no longer had his karmaic debt. Xiao wasn't sure how to live his life in this state. He dedicated his entire existence to years of slaughter and suffering that it became the only thing he knew. He won't admit it of course, he'll just throw in scoffs and remarks about how mundane activities are a waste of time when in reality, he just has no clue on how to handle them.

• Thats why the first day was difficult as you both try to figure out how to plant parnsips. Deciding it was better to go with an experiment, you split the share of seeds in half and used what basic knowledge you had on farming to finish the job. Xiao on the other hand tried copying what you did….though the outcome wasn't so desirable it was a mess. (His trained hands have taught him to be on the rough side).

• He doesn't bother socializing with the townspeople even though he has no karmaic debt to worry about. Xiao thinks you're more than enough anyways so what's the point? 

• Robin is the only person who can tolerate him for obvious reasons (cough Sebastian cough) she knows exactly how to deal with his personality type. His glares don't faze her, she simply thinks its just a teenage phase of some sort. 

• Eventually they become mutuals, Xiao thinks Robin is similar to Verr Goldet in a way. Since he's the one who does the heavy labour of chopping down trees and mining stones for building upgrades, he gets a chance to visit her house quite often. He comes back with lots of recipes too.

• You find out that his adepti blood never left him. Xiao doesn't need sleep so you better believe it when he tells you the next morning that he spent the whole night watering all 300 of your crops (watering is the only process he's good at for farming). 

• Sometimes you catch him staring out of the window, wondering what he may be thinking. Life was so much more different, almost hard to recognize. Was this real? Is it okay for it to be real, just this once? Ever since he committed his duty to Morax, Xiao didn't dream of a time when everything would be peaceful. Yet here he is, no longer a weapon but on a journey to find out what it's like to live as a normal person. 

• Spring: Every morning you find him kneeling behind the cabin with the pet cat (yes, cats seem to suit Xiao very much). He just stares at them, hesitant if he wanted to pet their fur or rub their chin. So he continues to glare intensely, scaring your cat away :(

• Whenever you wanted to attend any of the town's festivities, Xiao wouldn't even hide his distastefulness but goes with you regardless. Why do mortals consider hiding eggs and finding them a fun activity? And what kind of a name is Flower Dance? Can't they just call it a dance?

• Though…he does like the sight of you wearing a flower crown. Xiao likes putting stuff in your hair.

Since setting foot upon this new world, time seemed to have slowed down to the point that almost everything felt like an eternity. And you didn't mind, with him by your side, you wouldn't mind if it did last forever.

The lull of the grass was the only sound Xiao could hear as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your lap. You maneuvered across his scalp in small, subtle motions, surprised with how warm he felt against the heat your palm. He stirs a little and lets out a soft breath before turning his face to lay on the side.

You were slightly intrigued by the yaksha's new demeanor. From far away, Xiao was an intimidating man, even during the first time you laid eyes him, his presence felt similar to a knife pointing at anyone who dares to come too close. But now, the face that usually held his signature annoyance melted into something you never thought you'd see as the sun rays brushed against the surface of his fair skin. You observed the way his dark eyebrows stayed in a relaxed arch. The red crescents lining right above his beautiful long lashes and the sound of soft snores through parted lips. It was hard to believe that this man was the same person who claimed to have ended a thousand lives through thousands of years.

Did he fall asleep already?

Gently moving away the strands away from his cheekbone, hovered your gaze above him and whispered, "I thought adepti don't need rest."

"Hmph," Xiao responds, though there was no harshness in his tone, "Quit trying to be difficult, I didn't tell you to stop."

The smug grin on your face only widens. You lean downward and said to his ear, "And what's the magic word~?"

Xiao sighs at your antics. You were truly pushing your luck today and he simply didn't have the patience to entertain you. Without a warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you down, foreheads pressing until you were but a breath away. The adepti conquers, he does not plead.

• Summer: As expected, your parnsnips weren't able to grow as much. Thus, this season was going to be the one to make up for the lost profit. Xiao is very good at hunting, perhaps the best in the entire town. Though the way he catches fish is rather peculiar, said by the folks. He prefers to carve a spear made of wood and repeatedly stabs the lake until results show. Xiao dislikes the old fashioned way, he says its unproductive and it unecissarily takes too much time. 

• But as much as he scared the whole town, they were extremely grateful when he cleaned up the slime issues happening in the mines. You could say that he grew very popular since then and eventually mustered up the courage to greet him a hello whenever he passes by. 

• You nudge him to reply back. Xiao usually shoots you a glare but slowly, he learns the courtesy of acknowledging someone's prescence.

• Fall: You woke up to a burnt smell coming from the kitchen. Xiao just thought he would return the favour since you always worked so hard. (He was actually trying to figure out what a 'whisk' was. It was no wonder why there were eggshells in the dish!)

• You realized that Xiao was taking more initation compared to before. At night, when you thought the animals were actively jumping in the barns, the noise was actually from Xiao trying to adjust himself to the ways of tending the field. After learning what TV was, he would always switch to the channel "Livin off the land" to gain some insight. Truly, Xiao was greatful even though he knew he eventually had to return to his duties, he wanted to utilize the current days the best way he could. And what better way was it to just make you happy in return?

• Winter: This was the season to test the accumulation of Xiao's abilities: you caught a cold and he had to manage everything in his own. Xiao scolded you for not wearing enough and being too careless but at the same he considered that you must've been working too hard.

• Goes to Robin for help. She basically became his mom now. Prepares the food and leaves them in the fridge, she teaches Xiao how to use the phone in case he needed any help and also lets him know where all the essentials are. 

• Xiao stayed by your side the whole time even though you told him you'd be fine. But he refuses, he may no longer be a gaurdian but he was your gaurdian. That role never changed.

~~x~~

Zhongli

• You wake up on a soft bed with Zhongli sitting at a chair nearby. He hands you a cup of brewed water but you're still blatlantly confused. Seems like everything was taken care of by Zhongli, it ends up with him explaining everything to you. 

• The folks instantly assumes you both as a married couple. Who could blame them? He did carry your unconcious body all the way to town while asking for a local doctor. You can bet that the ladies wish they were you at that moment. Zhongli took care of everything, including with the contract with the new farm.

• It didn't take long for you both to adjust to the new lifestyle. Zhongli's accumulated knowledge was enough to last all four seasons. Days past by peacefully as you shared the tasks. He'd place down the stone paths towards the gate and you busied yourself with decorating the house. After that was done, Zhongli would rest upon the rocking chair outside your door (like the grandpa he is) and sometimes you'd join him in one reading session. His voice was soothing, you eventually dipped into a slumber as the evening grew colder. Just like always, your beloved brings his arm to encapsulate you from the wind, brushing his thumb against your skin subconciously while you snore softly into his shoulder.

• In a way, the townsfolk were right. You both do act like a married couple. It's basically domestic life with Zhongli in a nutshell.

• He gets connected with Gunther and lands a role in the Museum. Since he's there so often, Zhongli also manages to be acquainted with Elliot as well. Two men who have a common interest with books while speaking in poetic prose. Their conversation would last for hours to the point Gunther had to kick them out of the library!

• Veeeery good with the children, not in an entertaining way but its just the aura he reeks. Penny usually had trouble dealing with Vincent since he never seems to be able to focus but the minute Zhongli speaks, he's all ears. Not only that he was also very good with the elderly. He even recommended some herbs George could take to soothe his back issues.

• Problem is that he still forgets to bring his wallet and Childe isn't here to save him. So once you stepped foot into the Stardrop Saloon and Gus calls you over, he tells you about the cost he owed to his tab….

• But this tranquil life full of genuinity and deprived of sovereignty, he was overjoyed to be able to spend it with you. Because he knew you were unlike him, that all humans were born with an expiry date. He knew so well that after every new greeting, he would have to face the goodbyes over and over until the world eventually came to an end. He knew you were also going to be part of those many goodbyes while he would still be here.

• But as Zhongli walks amongst the fallen leaves, he remembered the beauty that carries within every new beginning. They brought him to you and he would never hesitate to trade his gnosis for it.

Spring: You shot up your bed when Zhongli blast the TV at full volume. He apologizes, saying that he was simply trying to change the channel. You figured it was best for him to go outside before he somehow glitches the screen until it couldn't repair itself (Robin charges for repairs).

• Every thursday you both go to Pierre's store to complete your grocery shopping. He offers to push the cart as you fill the basket with all the necessities (plus it saves you the trouble of having him tossing whatever he sees without looking at the price tag).

• Every afternoon you order a take out from the Saloon, sharing the meal while sitting at the fountain's edge near the community center. Every evening Zhongli would take you to explore the rest of the vast farmland, discovering places you weren't even aware of. It was no wonder why everyone thought you were a married couple. 

• Summer: Since the cabin was too small for a bathroom, you guys would have to travel up the mountains in order to get to the Spa house (cue sweatiness x10). 

• The concept of hotsprings was derived from Inazuma so it was no surprise that Liyue eventually took it after him. Zhongli had collected some incense from foraging items over the past few months, he knows whats up. But overall he gives the best bath sessions (hands down) and you were the one who insisted in joining him.  He was a gentle and sweet lover, always putting your needs before his. Ancient artifacts and old history books have always been precious to him, he treated you no differently.

The heartbeat of the oceans continues to rock back and forth until they brush up on the sandy shore, washing away the two pairs of footprints left behind by a man and a woman.

Gold against gold, his amber eyes reflected against the scenery. Millions of lights flashed among the sea when the sun began to climb down from the sky, it's rays hugged across the valley like an ethereal glow bestowed by the heavens as summer's wind brought even more warmth than what he had currently felt. You trance ahead of with the same light shaping around your form. 

"Oh hey there's another rainbow shell," you waved at him before running off, "I'll be back!"

How is it that you still continue to shine like gold in his memories?

Zhongli suddenly ponders at the chapters laying ahead of him. He spent so many years turning each page without ever reaching a conclusion, forever searching the fabled happy endings written in fairytale books, but he knew his immortality wouldn't grant him that wish.

Thus, the formal archon raised his pen and reweaves his own story. He envisions his future with you by his side, engraving every detail until it was immortalized in his memories.

Perhaps I shouldn't keep her waiting.

With a renewed resolve, Zhongli clutches the gemstone tightly in his palm, he seals the page with the final contract between your future and his.

• Fall: After getting your first house upgrade, it was time for the next event: the ceremony. Yes, Zhongli would only have a wedding if Liyue traditions were involved. Everyone was invited of course, they were quite intrigued with the flashy setup such as lanterns and fireworks (you were a little worried with where he got the budget for such items) and Zhongli even educated Gus about some recipes he can use for the Saloon.

• You found out that Zhongli was saving all his money for this day (it was no wonder that he couldn't pay for his tab!). Old habits die hard, it was a shame that he didn't have his powers to craft the right items, but at least he got to sea you in a traditional eastern dress (it's the part he was looming forward to the most).

• Fall is the best season. One you wouldn't forget.

• Winter: Ah he finally learns how to use  technology after three seasons. He only knows two channels from the TV which was 'Livin off the Land' and the weather channel. Zhongli oftens talks to himself as he tries to figure out more mechanics, he seems to be extremely absorbed in the most basic things.

• The miner of the house. But instead of using them to upgrade tools and donating them to the museum, Zhongli likes to keep some of them for collection. You could say your house also had a little museum in the other room.

• Romcom movies and soap operas. You can't change my mind that this is what you both spend your time watching as the snowstorm rages outside. 

Seasons- G.W. Headcannons

dating George Weasley through the seasons

Warnings: mentions of food, but it's all fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: just thought it would be fun! Let me know if you want this for any other characters!

George Taglist: @hufflepuff5972

if you want to be added to the taglist, reply to this post, send me an ask, or dm me!

I recommend listening to this playlist while reading for the best experience!

----

Winter

On the first snowfall of the season, you two definitely built an adorable little snowman, complete with coal eyes (you probably stole Ron's scarf for his neck). You told George about the muggle story Frosty the Snowman, and he tried to find a spell to recreate Frosty.

The next day, you two gradually started amassing a large snowman army. Inevitably, in the middle of construction, George betrayed you with an icy snowball to your back.

Naturally, this incited a five day-long snowball war that increasingly got more and more intense. George was surprisingly good at building sturdy snow forts, so you never really stood a chance against his defences. He could have probably constructed a 7 foot tall barricade in a matter of minutes!

Even if you two are locked in battle, he'll always take time to admire the way the white snowflakes rest in your hair so beautifully, as well as the fiery determination behind your eyes.

Fiesty battles aside, George always made sure that you were warm and cozy after a long day in the cold, making homemade hot cocoa using Molly's famous recipe.

One day, long after the ‘Snow Skirmish’, you convince him to go ice skating with you; he absolutely fell in love with it. For a while, he had to hold onto your arms for balance, which led to a lot of falls considering he's a giant compared to you.

Eventually he got the hang of it and you taught him how to play muggle hockey, which he picked up quite quickly. He eventually got all the Weasleys hooked, and they held weekly tournaments. You were always George's favorite cheerleader.

If he ever became a little too cocky, he'd fall face-first onto the hard ice, which always brought a small smile to your face. He always laughed with you, too.

On snowless days, however, you two went on 'expeditions', which entailed peaceful walks through the woods, hand-knitted gloves intertwined.

You'd always keep your eyes peeled for birds or foxes, and occasionally he swore he saw a yeti. You were surprised he never got Fred to dress up in a yeti suit, at least not yet.

Spring

One word: picnics.

You spent the majority of springtime down at the Burrow, enjoying the pleasant spring weather. There were huge multicolored flower fields surrounding George's childhood home, making it even more fitting for the season.

Some days, he'd take you down to the creek past the Burrow, and the two of you would stand ankle-deep in the cool, flowing water. Sometimes, if he was feeling a bit mischievious, he’d splash you with some of the refreshing water, you quickly returning the favor.

Occasionally, he'd try to catch a little leaping frog, holding it carefully in his big palms. He was enchanted by the tiny creature, and without fail, he always begged you to let him keep it.

"But Terrance needs a home! We can make him a terrarium and everything! Please?"

Some days, he'd take you up to the Tree, which laid on a soft, grassy hill in the middle of a luscious yellow flower field. A single tire swing hung from its burly and ancient branches.

Often times, he'd sit at the base of the trunk, either dozing off or humming a song from his youth. If you chose to sit with him, however, he'd braid your hair perfectly and pick some colorful flowers to accent it.

"My little Angel, you look so pretty with flowers in your hair."

You'd always pick some petals for his ginger mop, too.

"Now we're matching, Georgie. Daffodils compliment your hair beautifully."

He loved to push you in the tire swing. He was far too big to fit in it now, to your dismay, but he was perfectly satisfied pushing you back and forth in it. It almost reminded him of rocking a baby cradle.

On rainy days, he'd fetch old rain boots from the attic. He'd always wear Bill's old pair, you wearing his'. The area around the small creek was all muddy, and you can't tell me he wouldn't make mud pies. Even if he's way too old for them.

"Darling, would you care for a pie?"

"And what does it taste like, exactly?"

"It's my signature flavor, mud!"

Summer

I firmly believe George is a good cook. He just is (see my chef!George fic for elabroation).

One sweltering day, you and him went out to the gardens and pick ripe, ruby-red strawberries to chop up and make into homemade strawberry ice cream.

His ice cream would surpass Fortescue's by a lot. Like it's scary. From then on, he made it every Saturday morning, even on chilly winter days.

Sometimes he'd turn adventurous and try some new flavors, which were normally pretty good, until he got a little too creative and made caramel watermelon ice cream. From then on, he stuck with the classics.

In the evenings, a small bonfire was lit and all the Weasleys spent the night drinking and dancing. Bill held a guitar concert, George and Arthur grilled up some hot dogs (which were juicy and delcious), Fred set off some fireworks, and Ginny held fiercely competitive broom races.

When everyone went inside, exhausted, you and George stayed outside, listening to the crickets chirping and admiring the clear, country sky. He pointed out his favorite constellations to you, reenacting the myths behind them with you as his co-actor (you can't tell me we wouldn't let you fake-stab him and he'd fall to the grass super dramatically).

Beach days: a must have.

George would definitely wear red/maroon swim trunks, and there would always be a white stripe of sunscreen on his freckled nose, even after he furiously rubbed it in.

He'd always love the bathing suit you sported, whether it was a gingham bikini or a gorgeous silver one piece. He loved you so much, you never felt self conscious around him.

He'd take you to a secret, tucked-away beach, and you two would spend the day building elaborate sand castles, burying you deep in the sand, and searching for pretty sea shells and sand dollars.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mister? You can’t just leave me buried under the san like this!”

“Someone’ll find you eventually. I just want all the icecream for myself, what can I say? Oh fine, I’ll dig you up, darling.”

Autumn

Autumn at the Burrow was like nothing else. There was always a seemingly endless supply of pumpkin juice and apple juice on tap, and traditions were ampted up to the max.

Pumpkin carving was taken very seriously, and you and George were no exceptions. You and him were never artsy per se, but you always tried your hardest together to crave an intricately designed pumpkin. It always turned out pretty decent, to your surprise.

George and Fred would constantly wear scary masks and hide around he Burrow, or plant fake spiders in the cupboards in hopes of scaring Ron. It always worked.

Since the weather was so nice and chilly, he'd always go around the woods with you collecting a pile of some good sticks for a tree fort. He always carried the branches, and you collected the prettiest orange leaves you could find, for a collage or scrapbook.

All fall, he worked on building a small, secluded tree fort, which was definitely worth it in the end. You two stayed up late into the night, telling ghost stories, kissing, or inviting the whole Weasley clan for a good old fashioned game of Truth or Dare.

As for Halloween, you guys already know he goes overboard. He decorated every inch of every wall with black and orange streamers, fake cobwebs, and little baby pumpkins. It was always really sweet; he'd always wear a proud grin after the whole house was adorned to his liking.

For costumes, I'm 99% sure that you two would always do pun-y couple costumes think him dressing up as a cereal box and you as a killer, or him as a ghost and you a pepper).

You two would also 100% go to a costume store, and buy as much cheap hair gel as you could, all so you two could make each spiky Mohawks (you'd never admit it to George, but he pulled them off).

One time, he let you take him to a muggle farm for the day. You decided it would be fun to do a corn maze. The both of you got lost for three hours. From then on, he just stuck with hay rides.

Spending time with George was always fun, year-round.

All 5 under Preferences for Bast

BAST

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

Likes: Cats, jewelry, green, plants, summer, oranges, clean/organize 

Dislikes: Dogs, winter, annoying rude people, asymmetry, uncleanliness  

🍊 What is your OC’s favourite meal? Snack? Dessert? Drink? Any reasons behind this besides liking how it tastes?

What is your OC’s most hated food? Stuff they can’t stand to eat or drink?

Bast loves hot spicy foods, one favorite is Kebda eskandarani, Selblak,etc ect. She also loves hummus, Baba Ghanoush, Shakshuka, falafel, lamb chops, hot pots, Boeuf Bourguignon etc etc, deserts she loves to have Basbousa, chocolate mousse,  something warm  with a citrus or dark chocolate in it lol

These are mostly her favorite not only because of the taste, but because it reminds her of her home and foods that are Oddies/Odds favorites that remind her of them 

Bast isn’t very fond of overly sweet, or cold desserts or dishes. (altho if Odd/ie suggest it she will try lol)

🍑 Where is your OC’s favourite place to relax or calm down? Recount a story of their time spent in this place! What makes it so special to them?

Is there anywhere your OC hates to go to? Anywhere that stresses them out or have negative memories of?

Bast loves nature, so she has a lil cabin in the woods where she likes to take vacations too with Odd/Oddie. 

Bast doesn’t like to be in New York as much (she moved her company lol) because her old business partners are awful. (She also ‘dated’ some for business purposes lol) it did not go well

🧡 Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!).

Who does your OC absolutely hate, the one person who they’d sell to Satan for one corn chip? Why do they loathe this person so?

Bast’s Favorite person is Obviously Odd/Oddie lol. She absolutely loves them and would probably kill for them lol. They are the only person who gets her, makes her laugh and forget her troubles lol.

Bast HATES, with a burning passion, Mia/Marco and Odessa/Poseidon. They were terrible business partners and ex lovers lol. Wasn't any love (obviously lol) and it made her very unhappy and depressed. 

📙 What kind of subjects (of conversation, of discussion, in school or whatever) does your OC find interesting or engaging or that they can talk for hours about? What kind of stuff do they just find fun?

What things bore your OC to tears and they couldn’t care less about? Why?

 I think she would love to talk about computer stuff. Talking about electronics and coding is what she loves to talk about lol. And she will talk about her new ideas and projects or new systems she got to Odd/Oddie, even if they don't understand. Heck she might show them things or some of the basics just in case lol. 

Bast could care less about history, she will get so bored out of her mind. She doesn’t care for the past, she wants to look toward the future. 

So i added two names to some characters because they are interchangeable lol

I said I was gonna write jobs Remus had before being a professor didn't I? well. let me do that.

important to note that about 3 weeks out of the month he's in good physical and mental shape, he is stronger than a muggle, and post graduation/1st war trends to take muggle work exclusively. the reason being, when every month after a full moon he looks like shit? a wizard might suspect something- a muggle? they think he drinks too much or parties too hard.

during his school years he'd do day labor for nearby farms and neighbors, chopping and stacking wood, taking care of animals, baling hay when the season was right. he worked fishing boats if they were near the coast. these were short stints as summer holidays were only 2 to 3 months. and he spent winter holidays intermittently at school depending on the full moon cycle. if winter holidays fell on a full moon hr'd stay at hogwarts so his parents wouldn't have to deal with him.

first war - he's a spy. there's little other work he does. labor to help keep the packs supplied with food and in housing.

post first war - between Halloween and new years '82, Remus parents die. his mother first. and his father within a few weeks. he inherits the house they lived in from remus age 11-17. with no where else to go, and no one to really offer support after James' death and Sirius' imprisonment, he lives off limited savings and inheritance.

deciding to leave Wales, he rents his parents house and land and takes his savings to head into more remote areas. the full moon transformations without his friends or other wolves become increasingly brutal, the wolf leaving him with greater and greater wounds to heal from after.

there's a brief stint where he attempts to apply for ministry jobs, however when that fails - he returns to working within the muggle world. he rents short term, moving two or three times a year to prevent being noticed for his transformations. this means that most jobs are again short term laborer.

some jobs he has over the proceeding 12 years,

road maintenance / building

farmhand *

milker at dairy farms

delivery van driver *

grocery stocker / cashier

bookshop cashier

various day to day mining job*

bartender at a pub

cleaning / janitor at inns

so some of these jobs he'd repeat. the most often repeated were farm hand / laborer, mining work and van driver. farm hand was preferred because he was exceptional with animals, and also enjoyed limited human contact. it made it easier for him to stay at a job, because he didn't worry about being found out. mining was something he was familiar wirh considering he done some of the work since he was a teenager. but it was detrimental in that it was closed in spaces, sometimes special training or licensing was needed, and close human contact. delivery driver for shops etc was a job he held more than once for over six months. it was a job that he could hold even during the waning moon cycle when he was physically his weakest, and limited human interaction kept him from feeling too cagey. it was however, excruciatingly boring and he hated it.

during this time Remus took correspondence courses to continue his muggle education and recieve degrees in education, another in literature. he also never stopped practicing to improve his magic, become exceptionally skilled as duelist, as well as wordless and wandless magic.

his dream employment was always teaching. second only to writing. and he has read all of gilderoy lockharts bullmalarkey and has heavily annotated where he was 100% wrong.

A Tale of Peaks And Void

Chapter 1: Ominous onset

Word count: about 1200 words

Summary: High up in the mountains, on the verge of an old village lives Shadow, a reclusive woodcutter who wants nothing but calm and loneliness. But as a mysterious curse starts crawling across fields and forests, his fate intertwines with a kind-hearted shepherd's in a quest to save everything they hold dear.

- - - - -

The door creaked. It always creaked of course, usually more loudly first thing in the morning when the sun barely reached the cabin to warm its solitary silhouette.

It was like a ritual to Shadow. The door would creak as it opened and he would adjust it with care, before taking a good look at the endless forest covering the landscape. Breathe in the intangible sharpness of the fog clinging to the mountain flanks. Then get back indoors and take a moment to brew some coffee and fix himself some bread and jam.

The mornings were often harsh in the mountains. A cold, misty air would seep from the dew-covered grass, made worse by facetious winds dancing along the reliefs. Shadow was used to this, his thick wool jacket a sufficient help to withstand a day of work in the forest. He did not fear the blazing sun of summers nor the fierce snow of winters.

Something was off that day, though. The hedgehog felt it right away: a subtle hint of wrongness brought to him by the breeze, like a tainted promise of bad days to come. His quills stiffened slightly as he frowned, his intuition warning him of a vague menace from faraway.

Still, he closed the door to get breakfast. The woodcutter was pragmatic: ominous feelings or not, he needed some food to get on with his day. As the coffee pot heated on the old iron stove, the mobian's thoughts wandered. To the young bear who ordered reserves for the upcoming winter. To the old baker who would always give him a smile, tired but genuine. To his forever friend Rouge, and her eternal will to make him move closer to the rest of the village.

He shook his head and focused on preparing toasts. The bat's efforts were fruitless, obviously: the woodcutter was not one to meddle with others. His life was one of loneliness and contemplation, no matter how much his friend would complain, and it was a fate he accepted long ago. The villagers were sympathetic to him and he appreciated it, but he carefully kept his distance.

The fire gently roaring in the stove reflected in the golden bracelets he always kept on his arms and legs.

It's for their own good.

- - - - -

A branch creaked. They always creaked of course, it was a common occurrence in the woods with all sorts of critters wandering the wilderness. But Shadow was akin to a hunter, senses sharp enough to pick up the faintest hints after countless days spent in nature. He knew such a branch would not break under the lean step of a small animal.

After a glance at the tree he was working on to make sure it would not fall unprompted, he turned with a small smile. Leaning against his largest axe, he faced the tall bat nonchalantly walking to him.

"Nice to see you, Rouge." The lady grinned in return, taking a moment to look at her friend up and down. At the dawn of his thirties, the hedgehog had an inexplicably charming aura despite his abrupt demeanour —and the bits of leaves and bark constantly stuck on his shirt. To her eyes, he wasted his days living like some grumpy hermit.

"Hello honey. Figured I would find you around here rather than at your house. – Of course. The cold days are coming fast, the villagers need their wood and it requires time to dry beforehand."

The bat nodded as she glanced at his payload, a cart already half-full of chopped trunks and branches. "Have you considered taking a moment for yourself lately?" she asked, rolling her eyes at the sardonic huff in response. "Surely an ale with someone would not kill you, and I'm quite sure it would delight your neighbours. – We're not neighbours." Shadow growled as he picked his axe again. "The village needs me and I need the village. It is as simple as bees and flowers living thanks to each other. Nothing less, nothing more."

Rouge sighed at the blunt statement. Her friend was not mean-spirited, he was charitable and kind even. But his solitary nature only got worse as time passed, and not for a good reason.

“Ah well.” she sighed. “I see today is not the day I will bring you out of your shelter.” Shadow simply shrugged at the words, giving a powerful but precise strike at the tree in front of him.

“Anyway,” the bat continued as she sat on a large stump, “this is not why I came to see you. I need your help.” The woodcutter stopped his axe in-air, glancing at her curiously. Rouge was the oldest friend he had —not that he had many— and he could hear the concern in her voice as clearly as a nightingale song.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, taking a step towards the bat. “More than wrong.” she replied. “A farmer came to me because his crops are getting sick. A strange illness I never heard of, that turns plants dark and brittle like they were made of ash. – This does sound worrying.” Shadow nodded. He could not remember ever seeing such an ailment.

“It's the third case in a week.” she added with a sombre stare. “All different crops from different villages. They tried various remedies but the fields simply die. It's a slow illness but nothing seems to stop it. The other healers never saw it either, nor do their books mention it.” Now this was much more troublesome. If left unchecked, such a plague could starve families and compromise next year's reserves. Shadow gritted his teeth, the uneasy feeling from earlier growing more vivid.

“Do you know where to look for a solution? – I do not.” Rouge said with a shrug. “But maybe the wise cat knows something about it, or might have a clue to a cure." The hedgehog groaned at this. He could not stand the old one. No one questioned their unexplained powers and wisdom, not even Shadow, but they were always cryptic in their answers and painfully slow to provide. Plus their house was almost two days from the hedgehog's cabin.

"And you want me to go ask them." Shadow stated, defeat already peeking through his voice. "You know the things of nature better than anyone in this village besides me. And while I can fly, you're fast on your feet." she said with a gesture to his carefully maintained shoes. "What will you do in the meantime?" he asked, looking in the direction the village lied. "Study some samples, map where the disease has spread.” Rouge joined hands in a concerned gesture. ”As a healer I can't just leave like that, especially without an apprentice to replace me. We don’t even know if the sickness can spread to mobians. – Fine. I will go tomorrow by dawn," Shadow accepted reluctantly, "just let me finish my work for today. Plague or not, mobians need fire to live on."

With a chuckle, Rouge sat up and deployed her purple wings. "I know that well, do not worry. Come see me before you leave, and oh! If you see good mushrooms, please bring them along!" she exclaimed. "Ingredients for a remedy?" Shadow asked with curiosity. "Well yes, that too, but mostly to perfect my signature stew!" she laughed before soaring through the sparse foliage, leaving the woodcutter alone with his thoughts.

His guts were full of knots as he resumed his labour. His very nature made him sensitive to the whims of fate and magical threats, and right now his whole body buzzed as if to warn him of... something.

Maybe it was a good idea to seek Big the Wise.

Geraskier - The Dark and the Flame (Secret Santa Gift)

Happy Witcher Secret Santa @inikokoru! 🐺 

Geralt and Jaskier weather their winter in Kaer Morhen; featuring Soft!Boys and Geralt getting to finally rest and enjoy his time with his bard 🥰 Hope you have a wonderful holiday season!

Thank you @thewitchersecretsanta for hosting such a wonderful festive event! Happy holidays 🎅🏻

Word Count: 2,499

Warnings: None

AO3 Link!

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

Kaer Morhen seems like a world away. Perched on top of a mountain peak, backed up against the stone and shrouded in a thick forest, curious eyes aren’t able to follow them up the steep sloping trails. The last humans Jaskier will see for the winter are in the village at the foot of the mountain; the last place where they can get provisions for the trails and the keep itself. Geralt picks up some dried beef and a loaf of bread, and Jaskier re-furs his cloak. It’s going to be a harsh winter, if he goes by how wonderful of a summer they had this year. An old peasant’s saying; a harsh summer, an equally harsh winter.

The paths aren’t terrible. Some of them are flooded, but Geralt nods for him to get on to Roach while the Witcher guides them through on foot. He’s been up and down this mountain ever since he first set off to be a Witcher; he knows where to step and where to avoid. Still, Jaskier bundles his cloak around himself and wishes that time would trudge by just that bit quicker. A storm will roll in soon enough. Blackened and heavy clouds slump over a nearby ridge.

They reach the walls of the keep just as the first drops of rain hit.

A winter at the keep means rest for everyone, including the horses. They stay in their stables and munch on stored hay and rolled oats, happy to be tackless for the season. With how much they’ve traveled throughout the year, and all of the monsters Geralt has hunted, Roach deserves her rest more than most.

Jaskier has been to the keep before. The first winter was spent stuck to Geralt’s side, shadowing him around as the Witcher showed him where to go for what. The keep sprawls out in every sort of direction, even delving deep into the mountain itself. A few sun-turns have passed. He knows where to go to get to Geralt’s room, the hot springs underneath the keep, Vesemir’s library, and the arena and stables outside. Other than that, he’s afraid of wandering off of his usual track because he’ll only get lost.

Vesemir allows his pups the first few days to rest. His sons have spent the last three seasons trudging through the Continent, wandering from contract to contract and collecting more injuries starts to take its toll. Jaskier can’t complain. The worst he’s dealt with this year is bartering with angry villagers not wanting to pay the Witcher for his service in clearing out a whole nekker nest. He still can’t remember what happened; just that someone with something knocked the back of his head, he fell to the ground, and woke up in a tavern bed almost ten hours later to a distraught, but furious, Witcher watching over him.

So he’s content to let Geralt relax into the keep, do whatever he needs to do to gain life back into his bones. Sleep evades him some nights, while others are spent working and then travelling the next day. He’s owed sleep. Within the first few minutes of being inside of the keep, Jaskier shepherds Geralt to his room. “Take off your armour and let me get you some clean clothes,” he says, letting the door click shut behind them.

Geralt arches an eyebrow at the command, but follows it anyway.

Jaskier listens to the tell-tale sounds of Geralt undoing the buckles and straps of his armour. Most of it is unceremoniously dumped into a corner of the room. He’s meticulously careful with caring for it and mending it whenever he can during the year. But here, safe behind high and study walls, there’s no need for it, and it will be put away until the day comes where the snow thaws and the sun returns. When he’s stripped down to nothing but an undershirt and breeches, Geralt perches at the foot of his bed and picks at the laces of his boots.

Vesemir won’t have anything ready for them to eat just yet. His stews and soups and roasts take up most of the day to prepare and simmer, and they’re good. Jaskier’s stomach growls at the thought of a warm bowl of stew or a few thick slices of roasted venison waiting for him down in the dining hall. But not yet. Now, he pads back over to Geralt, handing him some folded, fresh clothes and a handful of vials of lotions and soaps. “Go down to the baths and get the road off of you,” he instructs simply. “I’ll air the room and get the fire started.”

Geralt looks too exhausted to go down to the dining hall and try and hold air with Vesemir and the others. Though, Jaskier suspects that the elder might understand that he could be dining alone tonight, seeing how exhausted his sons were when they trudged one by one into the keep’s main hall, road-weary and worn.

Geralt hums, clambering on to his feet. Bare-foot, he pads down the halls towards the springs. Really, Jaskier could have had a tub sourced from somewhere; but he looks around the room and sees all the work he needs to do to get it ready. He starts with airing the room, cracking the lancet windows open just a little bit to let fresh, crisp air inside. It doesn’t take long for musky, dust-riddled air to be swept out. He closes them when the air turns just a small bit cold, nipping at his skin. The hearth next. A metal bucket of chopped wood sits by the hearth. Vesemir, Jaskier thinks. The sheets on the bed are new, and Geralt has some newly washed clothes already within his drawers. Even now, with his pups fully grown and waning in years, Vesemir will still look after them.

Jaskier makes quick work of sparking the fire to life. He feeds the fire with two small, dry logs before his ears twitch at a knock on the door. Eskel and Lambert will have already retired to their own rooms. Jaskier saw the shadows gaunting their faces. He strides over to the door, blinking when he sees Vesemir standing outside with a tray in his hands.

Two piping bowls of stew, a loaf of crusted bread, a small wedge of cheese, and a bottle of wine with tankards. Jaskier blinks.

“I thought that you might have wanted to relax on your first night here,” Vesemir explains, holding out the tray. It’s heavy and laden with everything they could love. His stomach trembles at the sight of the food. Full meals were few and far between out on the road; unless they were lucky enough to stumble on a contract from a kind enough lord or lady, then their banquet table was splayed open for them. And Vesemir’s meals always hold a special place in his heart. Jaskier catches the scent of roasted herbs and his mouth waters.

Vesemir offers him one of his barely-there smiles, nothing more than a lift of the corner of his lip. “Have a good night, bard.”

By the time Geralt pads back, Jaskier smiles. His Witcher is flushed red from the hot water, smelling of the oils and lotions Jaskier likes to bathe him in. In fresh clothes and bare feet, he struggles to find any reason why anyone in the Continent would ever be afraid of the Witcher. White, wet hair tumbles down on to his shoulders, slack and relaxed as he shuffles over to a small desk near Jaskier. He holds out a fine-toothed comb. And Jaskier’s smile only grows.

Geralt wordlessly sits on a chair in front of him, sighing contently at the first pass of Jaskier’s fingers through his hair. If he had to bathe alone, without Jaskier’s hands dusting over his skin, then he can get the bard to at least comb through his hair. It was a slow process, getting Geralt used to the perfumed lotions and oils and soaps Jaskier likes to use. He remembers when Geralt’s nose would wrinkle at the sharp scent of citrus fruits or the musk of desert flowers. But slowly, when they started lying in the same bed, entangled in each other, Jaskier woke up to the Witcher’s nose pressed into the groove of his neck, breathing in lungfuls of scent.

The hearth crackles to life, heat slowly blooming out into the room. Geralt hums. “Vesemir dropped that up, did he?” he nods to the tray sitting nearby.

Jaskier runs the comb through Geralt’s hair. “Hmm. We can eat after I’m finished.”

Geralt sits patiently, almost slumbering as he leans back against Jaskier and sinks against him.

The bard huffs a light laugh. With the last of Geralt’s hair combed through, he nudges the Witcher’s shoulder. “Eat,” he says, setting his comb on to the table, and bringing over a chair. The meal is everything he needed it to be and more. The first spoonful of thick stew has him swallowing down a moan. He’s missed this; familiar, good home-cooked food that has his toes curling in his boots. The fire crackles nearby and the storm threatening to spill over outside is long forgotten about.

Geralt keeps his tankard filled with wine. As soon as it slips beneath the half-way mark, the Witcher reaches over with the bottle and tops it up. Jaskier chuckles around a mouthful of bread. His Witcher will keep him warm and fed and on the right side of drunk, plied and smiling with wine. They don’t need to talk at all. Jaskier has done enough talking throughout the past three seasons for the both of them. He’s happy to let his voice rest throughout the winter, though his lute could still whisper to him. A merry Eskel and Lambert might ask a song or two from him, but that will be it. For now, though, Jaskier sits happily across from his Witcher, their knees touching as they scoff down as much food as they’re able to.

The wind howls outside. Harsh rain lashes against the keep’s battlements and walls, but Kaer Morhen has weathered its fair share of storms throughout the centuries. The hearth crackles and spits and warmth blooms throughout the room. Jaskier sighs up at the ceiling, letting his eyes flicker closed. He could slip away into the soft and plush mattress. The sheets are slung lowly over the both of them, not needed for the moment now that the hearth’s fire has picked up. But Geralt still dozes by his side, resting his head on Jaskier’s shoulder and curling an arm around the bard’s middle.

Jaskier skims a hand over the Witcher’s back. He’s shed his shirt, leaving it somewhere outside of their bed. He has Jaskier to keep him warm, so why would he need it? And with a shirt on, he wouldn’t have been able to feel and lounge in the bard’s touch dusting over him. Jaskier’s fingers trail up and down the Witcher’s back, running over the ridges of his spine and across his shoulders. He can feel how heavy Geralt is getting, slowly sinking into sleep.

There have been only a handful of times where Geralt has let himself lower his guard like this. Out on the path, Geralt’s shoulders were always tense and his eyes continuously scanning crowds and rooms. Even when they slept, either out on the road underneath the stars or in tavern rooms, Geralt never ventured too deeply down. A slight creak of a floorboard or a twig snapping, and Geralt would have his sword in his hand and ready to strike within seconds.

Both of them indulge in the winter; Geralt with letting his shoulders drop and his hackles lower, and Jaskier watching his Witcher finally relax. The Continent can survive on its own for the season. Or the other Witchers can deal with it. One of Geralt’s brothers told him that the other schools don’t act like they do; their cubs and fledglings can traverse through the countryside if they want, but only the wolves return to their mountain religiously for the winter. And even then, Eskel told him that sometimes, when they’re short on coin or if the year had been particularly riddled with contracts, they’ll stay.

Jaskier’s fingers dust the ridges of Geralt’s spine, gently running over patches of marred skin and the bumps of scars. Long-since healed and beginning to fade, but there nonetheless. He loosens a sigh, turning his head just enough to dust a kiss to the crown of Geralt’s head. It’s nothing major; merely a brush of lips. He lingers, smelling bathing salts and oils. Underneath it all is the familiar scent of Geralt.

The Witcher hums, curling further into Jaskier’s chest. Full-bellied and pliant from a bath, he’s slipping. He’s growing heavier and heavier in Jaskier’s arms. It won’t be long until sleep stops skirting the shadows of the room and comes slinking out to lull him under. Jaskier won’t be long after. His eyelids grow heavier with each passing moment.

They’ll have chores in the following week. The keep has gone three seasons with just Vesemir looking after it; and though he’s loathe to admit it, he’s getting on in years and cannot see to everything. Cracks have formed in the mortar keeping the outer walls together, and the stones need to be re-pointed. But that’s next week. Jaskier reaches up to card his fingers through Geralt’s hair. He’ll have nothing to do with the heavier work. Eskel and Lambert and Geralt can deal with clambering up the high stone walls and keeping them in check. He’ll find something to do. He’s sure Vesemir has constructed a list as long as his arm to keep him busy for the season.

Until then—

Jaskier catches the blankets over their hips and tugs them up to their chests. Geralt burrows into him; the arm around the bard’s waist tightening and possessive. The candles around the room have long since quenched themselves. The only light and heat come blooming out of the hearth. It crackles and flickers, but it’s what they both end up falling asleep to. Geralt slips away first, soft snores rumbling out of his chest and blowing against Jaskier’s chest.

Jaskier’s arms will stay around his Witcher. They don’t part when they sleep. Jaskier can’t count how many times they’ve woken up entangled in each other, not knowing where one began and the other ended.

The warmth of the room and the soft bed beneath him and the Witcher coiled against his side; it’s too much of a fight to stay awake. But he wants to. He wants to watch his Witcher loosen and relax, but it’s not enough. Sleep tugs at him, luring him under. Just before he slips off, when his eyes flutter closed and his breath starts to deepen, he hears the soft, constant rhythm of his Witcher’s heartbeat: a silent assurance that they’re together and safe.

You’re Their Assigned Wife (REACTION)

all members are included under the ‘keep reading’ link

notes: this is based off the k-reality ‘we got married’ where a male and female idol spent time as a ‘married’ couple, i’m sure y’all know it

rules | m.list | requested by @agapeew

KSJ

One of your mid-week tasks to complete with Seokjin was to make some traditional kimchi, and before you had started, you were already excited. Actually, you found it quite coincidental that this would be assigned to you. When the cameras were off, Seokjin had led a bored atmosphere into an in-depth conversation about food. You learnt quickly that it was just one of his better traits; always feeling the need to lighten the mood.

To spread the added seasonings evenly, you’d poured the masses of chopped vegetables into a larger bowl of the floor. He slid his hands into plastic gloves and used all the strength of his arms to begin to churn the contents. As Seokjin began to act as a human whisk, you added additional ingredients to enhance the seasoning you’d already added. Picking up two chopsticks, you selected a small radish slice and fed it to him, “How is it?”

His playful moaning and emphasised nodding earned a chuckle from you. However as you were laughing at his honest reaction, you noticed his face begin to fall and almost twist in agitation. You watched as his arms begin to slow in their process, and so reached for the box of gloves to help him out, “You don’t need to worry, I’m okay!”

You frowned and swatted the air to make him remove his hands, “It’s fine, let me have a go.” He retracted his hand from the bowl and you plunged yours in their place. As you continued to stir, you looked up habitually to see Seokjin smiling, seemingly adoring you, “What?”

Seokjin’s smile softened as you picked up on his diverted attention, “You’re just... sweet,” you puffed a strand of hair away from your eyes, and watched it continue to fall back down as you pondered on his words. The rustling of his glove led to an uncovered hand reaching out for your face. As you paused in your churning, Seokjin pushed the loose hair behind your ear and admired your blushing cheeks, “There you go. Shall I have a turn now?”

MYG

As mildly introverted people, it had taken a little more than a few hours to fully open yourself to Yoongi’s company, more particularly to make any conversation you shared less awkward. After reverting back to childhood memories and a mutual love of the same films, Yoongi was quickly warming up to your presence.

It was strange to have to fake romance with another idol, especially with so many cameras. Kindling chemistry made your task much easier. Several days into your ‘marriage’, it was clearly time to shop for food items and other essentials, and as hesitant as he seemed, you were determined to make shopping as enjoyable for Yoongi as you could.

Without asking, he offered to push the trolley around the store and followed you diligently as you conferred on what to buy. At the very end of your journey, you spotted a large pack of bottled water that would easily have been enough for the rest of your time together. You shuffled and leaned down to the bottom shelf where the pack sat and slivered your fingers underneath to lift it, “Do you want some help with that?”

“Nope,” you grunted, struggling to lift it any further than a centimetre from the shelf. It was heavier than you’d anticipated, “actually, yeah.”

You grunted as Yoongi came to your rescue. He pulled up on the plastic packaging and aided you in placing it in the trolley, “Move your fingers,” he said. You looked at him strangely, and he smiled at your knitted brows, “they’ll get crushed! Move them!”

He jokingly scolded you, prompting you to tease a pout, “Don’t look at me like that!” He smiled, dodging your eye contact, “I’m only looking out for you.”

JHS

To wind down one evening, you made a joint effort to create a mini campfire in the yard. A small firepit, wood blocks and marshmallows was just enough to make a winter evening in the countryside more enjoyable.

On the backyard sofa, you reclined next to Hoseok. A blanket draped over your legs, but that along with the fire wasn’t enough to warm you up, “Are you cold? Here, take my jacket.” Hoseok offered, unzipping his branded winter coat.

You leaned away from him, rejecting his offer, “No way. It’s below freezing, keep it on. Could we share? Instead?” You nodded towards the blankets that kicked over both of your laps, and began to divide them more equally over you.

“Come a bit closer,” Hobi insisted, lifting his corner of the fabric to invite you under. You smirked at his natural generosity, and it wasn’t until he met your eyes that he noticed, “or morph into an iceberg if you’d like. Really, let me keep you warm.”

To add performance for the hidden cameras in the garden, you rested your head slowly on his shoulder. Hoseok, without much pause, slung his arm around you and shuffled his hand against your thick cardigan, “Comfy enough?”

You nodded in satisfaction, “Perfect!”

KNJ

For a segment in an episode, you and Namjoon had chosen face masks as an activity to complete. As a self-proclaimed skin care fanatic, you were more than excited to pamper the man who had quickly become a close friend of yours.

To emphasise the couple chemistry, Namjoon sat opposite you, crouched onto a small wooden stool identical to yours. His chestnut hair was pushed back, tucked away under a bright yellow headband, exposing his tanned forehead to your silicon brush, “Let me know if it tickles too much.”

Your prewarning was met with a dimpled smile as you started to spread the cleansing mixture across his risen cheeks. Rose pink clay pleasingly matched his dark eyes that could only focus on you. As you carefully distributed the face pack over his skin, you couldn’t help but grin at his widened eyes that followed yours so diligently, “You know, the more you look at me like that, the more I’ll have to believe you have a thing for me.”

Namjoon giggled softly, looking away from you for the first time since you’d begun, “What if I did?”

You looked down at your lap, flattered at his response. If you’d learnt anything about Namjoon in the past few days, it was that his tone of voice changed when his sincerity was meant to be heard, “Well then, that’s something for us to discuss when there isn’t a camera across the room.”

PJM

It had been a while since you’d spent so long away from your dorm and your members; you couldn’t help but feel slightly homesick. The kind of homesick that kept you up at night was the worst. To stop you from stirring around in the sheets and waking Jimin, you hung your legs over the side of the bed and stared into the blackness.

“Everything alright over there?” A sudden, raspy groan startled you. Jimin had followed you in sitting up in his place, rubbing his eyes that were still adjusting to the darkness.

“Hmm? Yeah, just a little homesick. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” You whispered, wrapping the duvet over your legs. The night camera should’ve stopped filming a few hours ago, but Jimin and you still weren’t close enough to be completely open around one another.

Jimin’s fluffly morning cheeks fell at your confession, “Can I help at all? I really hate to see you down.” He spoke softly, and yet you knew he meant what he said. For someone you’d known for less than a week, his compassion was surprising but sweet.

You stuttered, looking for any way to tell the time. Midnight was far behind you, and the summer sun was yet to rise, “Don’t worry about the time. Whatever I can do to make things better for you, I will.”

KTH

Filming such a programme in autumn had its benefits in what activities it made available. In addition to it being your favourite season, you’d learnt that Taehyung grew up in a similar setting to you. Daegu suburbs hid many roads that led to farms and orchards, where both you and Taehyung had spent many hours picking harvestables and chasing younger siblings.

As the director had learned of this shared memory, she organised an opportunity for you to recreate your childhood together. An apple and pear orchard waited on the outskirts of Seoul for you, “If they’re big enough, I can make you an apple pie?” Your promise to Taehyung had spawned a determination to make the most of a chance you hadn’t had in years.

After your basket was near enough full with apples, you’d spent your remaining minutes searching for larger ones to pluck. The perfect green apple hung just a bit too high for your grasp, and watching your struggle, Taehyung approached you from behind, “Need a lift?”

As you nodded, Taehyung squatted to wrap his arms around your legs and raise you up to the branch where you were able to take the apple that had caught your eye. Placing you back on your feet was less successful as you stumbled upon meeting the ground. A small shriek led to his hand catching your back , securing your balance. A heavy sigh of relief hooked a smile, “You didn’t think I’d let you fall, did you? I’d never let you get hurt when you’re with me.”

JJK

When your time together with Jungkook was coming to an end, you chose to spend a night at a karaoke bar. As you both owned the title of main vocalist in your groups, friendly competition couldn’t be missed.

To make it fair, you agreed on the same ballad to see who could score higher, and your winning score of 96 was enough to induce all of the excuses from Jungkook, “I let you win to ease you into the competition! Good luck in the next round.”

Many different verses and choruses later, and the tie between you was clear. To finish the hour you’d paid for, Jungkook suggested a ballad duet. You took the red lyrics and he took the green. The enchanting mixture of melodies coated the room with a romantic aura; you couldn’t help but switch between the lyrics and Jungkook’s eyes.

“That was really... something.” A shy grin closed the music as you returned your microphone to it’s slot. From award shows and concerts you’d attended before, you knew well that his vocals were stunning. But if you knew that yours could match so well with his, you would have suggested a karaoke much, much sooner.

“It really was. Maybe we could slip into a studio sometime? I heard you write songs.” How he’d heard that was unknown to you, but you were more than glad that he did.

^ hey! i remember you sending this before tumblr deleted all my asks, thank you for resending! i love this sm omg

untitled goose game

t: we're home.  a: this is the rumoured trayastrimsa? it's empty and dead, how can it be the celestial's paradise. god of trayastrimsa: but my soul is not filled, it's still empty, what can fill my spirit? t: the only way you can fill a gap in one's heart, is with the heart of another person. t: the soul cannot be filled with tangible things, because it is born craving other souls. (big lore gap here ceebs) t: it's this place that changed me, since i saw this ideal country, i've always wanted to take asura here, and share everything with you. t: forget all the wars, and stay here with me. isn't that your wish? a: my wish is to personally bring about my desires with my own hands, i don't need a god to do it all for me. i: but there are some things that can't be obtained, even if one tries their best, yet in this unsullied heaven you can have everything you want. a: everything i want... asura's mom: asura, are you finally back? everyone's been waiting a long time for you. a: mother? asura's mom: taishakuten, did you guys come back together? it just so happened that your mother and brothers said they wanted to see you, so i said that if you still weren't back, i would go out to look for you. t: sorry to make you worry. asura & i just went boating out in the lotus pond, i also picked some lotus flowers for you. asura's mom: child, did asura tell you that i like flowers? t: because my mother also likes flowers, and she smiles when i give her lotus flowers. a: ...indeed, this is something you and i can't achieve with all our effort.  asura's mom: what's wrong with asura? he still refuses to look at me. is there anything urgent that hasn't yet been done? asura's mom: if that's the case, asura should go finish his own business, and i'll wait here. a: mother, i'm... not in a hurry, i'm just a little hot. a: taishakuten, let's go over there to cool down. asura said this abruptly, and pulled taishakuten away. a: taishakuten, what trick are you trying to pull again? t: i haven't done anything. but didn't i say, in trayastrimsa's spiritual sea there's no line between life and death, and no line between reality and dreams. t: you wanted to personally shape your own world, so this is the world you created. a: stop laughing. your family and mine have never known each other. how can your mother and brother be in my world? t: but you have me, in your world. t: if you don't believe it, asura, then look - isn't this like the hillside where we first met? a: ah? it seems a bit similar, but at that time there were corpses everywhere, and there wasn't such a large lotus pond. t: the look of spring flowers in full bloom isn't better than this, and also i really love lotus ponds. t: it would be great if i could build a house here, i really want to live forever in this beautiful scenery. a: you, build a house? in the past, the wings marched overnight and you couldn't even set up a tent. t: in that case, i had no choice but to let asura see my true abilities. as soon as he finished speaking, a marching tent appeared on the grass. t: this is the spiritual power of trayastrimsa, if there's anything you want, it will appear, and any wish you have will come true. t: asura, why don't you try it out? a: after so many years, i didn't expect you to be at the level of a tent. (help) t: if i put my true skills to use, it wouldn't be too difficult to build a house out of wood and stone. in the blink of an eye, there appeared a house of wood and stone exactly the same as the one in asura's childhood. the small house replaced the tent on the ground. a: i also want to raise geese. a goose pen & a dozen geese appeared. although asura was surprised, he quickly accepted this reality. t: why do you want to raise geese? a: they can mind the house, it's very useful, and also catch the insects in the paddy. t: haha, asura, in this spiritual sea, flowers never wither, everything is endless, and even the rain falling from the sky is sweet. t: the sun will never set, the crops will grow on their own, and the mountain streams are full of fine wine, how can there be theft. t: now that the house and yard are here, asura, why don't we live here? t: i'm hungry after rowing for so long. this is the first time i've seen such a stove. is it here to make a fire? a: that's a bellows, not a stove, put it down! t: then i'll leave the matter of making the fire to you, and i will invite you to taste my newly learned craft. a: can you cook? t: before i came here, i specifically asked the royal chef at the palace how to make lotus soup. he said it was very simple. i probed his heart, he was telling the truth. a: where are you going to get the lotus seeds. t: isn't there a big lotus pond by the door, the lotus there is so good, it's definitely tasty. a: but can you man the boat? t: didn't i go sailing in the sea of stars when i came here before? the pole boat in that clump of lotuses should be about the same. a: ...taishakuten, don't move, i will go pick a few lotus pods, remember in future to never go on a boat like that one, when there's nobody there. asura went to the pond in front of the door, and picked a few lotus pods with the boat. when he came back, asura saw smoke rising from the direction of the kitchen, and taishakuten ran out with a look of horror. t: i wanted to make a fire by myself, so i could get cooking when you came back, but i didn't expect... a: when i left, there was no firewood in the house, so what did you burn?! asura rushed into the kitchen. after extinguishing the fire, he pulled from the stove a half-burned wooden bellows. t: when i was marching back then, we used this to make the fire, i really didn't expect the fire to be this lively when i used the bellows. a: i was really careless to leave you in the kitchen. you go out and stand in the yard for me. however, when asura came back from cutting down some firewood, he found taishakuten being chased by a flock of geese in the yard. goose: honk t: aahhhhhhh! don't eat me! you can't eat my lotus seeds! asura help me! asura summoned his spiritual entity, took taishakuten and placed him on the roof. then he nimbly picked up the screaming geese, threw them back into the pen, and locked the gate. a: why on earth did you take them out? t: i heard them crying very pitifully, and they seemed to be hungry. t: so i opened the gate and went in to feed them. who knew they would want to eat my lotus seeds! a: you should have let them eat you. (fdnsjkfjsdghahaha) t: hey, don't go, let me down first! a: i think you should just stay up there. so taishakuten had to stay still on the roof, the white geese were still looking at him, and the sound of chopping firewood came in from the yard. after who knows how long, asura walked back out carrying the freshly cooked lotus seed soup, and then took taishakuten down from the roof. a: i've never seen someone who can make as much trouble as you, so much happened in just one day. t: i didn't expect the lotus seed soup cooked by asura to be so delicious, even the cooks of the royal palace couldn't produce such a good flavour! a: i think your taste has become more sophisticated over the years, you've forgotten the taste of starvation. only when you venture outside the city walls will you praise/appreciate the food of the common people. t: but asura likes spicy food, how can you be good at making lotus seed soup? a: though my taste differs from yours, my mother still liked those light, sweet things like normal celestials. a: in the past, when she was busy, i would cook according to her taste. after all, my taste is different from ordinary people, or perhaps it could be due to my unusual bloodline. t: no one here cares about your origins, there are no wars or other troubles. t: the dead can be resurrected, time can be turned back, misunderstandings can be solved, and regrets can be alleviated. t: stay here and live together with me, asura. a: now that you've found the world you'd been pursuing, now that you have everything you want, what do you want me to do? t: remember why the god of trayastrimsa created us? t: the heavens and the earth are enormous, yet they can be filled with mountains, and deep seas. yet loneliness cannot be filled t: without you, i would end up like that god. t: to commit the first sin, then pour my own tears and blood into the sea t: so please, please stay in my heaven, okay? a: you did those stupid things deliberately, to stall for time so i would stay, huh t: hahaha, fortunately, there's no night or day in this spiritual sea. in fact, asura stayed here for a long time. t: otherwise, if day and night changed, i wouldn't be able to fool you, asura. a: how long has it been? t: i don't know, but if you want to go back now, it must be too late. a: taishakuten. t: huh? a: geese won't eat raw lotus seeds that haven't been peeled. next time you lie, remember to think it through! t: what?! t: about this alone, i really didn't lie to you! if you don't believe me, i'll open the goose pen and prove it to you myself! a: taishakuten! sit down for me! goose: honk t: AHHHHHHHHH a: i think you should live on the roof. the two of them then settled down on the hillside facing the lotus pond, & stopped mentioning their past grudges. the once endless war seemed to have happened in another world. there was no autumn, winter, spring or summer, or night and day in trayastrimsa, and time flowed but never changed. most beautiful dreams are barely fulfilling, yet this one lasted until the end of the universe. taishakuten & asura spent hundreds of quiet, peaceful and comfortable years there, & in that time the sun had yet to set once. a: here you are clearly able to do what you want, but why can't you learn something so simple? a: for example, how to make a fire, how to fish, how to look for lotus roots in the mud, how to get along with the geese at the door. a: & for example, how to speak frankly to me. t: even in trayastrimsa, there are things that people can't imagine. t: like i can't imagine a taishakuten who's blunt and free-spoken, and the god of trayastrimsa can't imagine a self who is no longer lonely. a: this is like a dream of trayastrimsa's god.

Silent Night

Based on this: “You aren’t a big fan of Christmas and just want to get out of the city and away from the hustle and bustle. However the one and only Captain America has had his eyes on you and wants to spend a perfect Christmas with you whether you like it or not."requested by anonymous.

Warnings: noncon sex (fingering, intercourse)

Note: Okay, so I’ll be working on holiday drabbles over the next few days.  Hopefully one or two a day if I can manage! Thanks for all the requests so far and I’m working at keeping up.

Hope y’all enjoy. Like and/or reblog!! <3 Reblogs really help especially since I haven’t been getting many.

A quiet Christmas. A once in a lifetime occasion. Convincing your parents to let you skip the family dinner had been a task in itself, only exchangeable for your labour. The old cabin your aunt hadn’t visited since her fall down the stairs a year ago was far away that it guaranteed a holiday undisturbed. A favour, you negotiated, a gift for your aunt who would soon be in shape to once more respite to the northern forests. The place must be dusty, it would need a cleaning before that. Your selfish reclusivity disguised as generosity.

More difficult had been your departure from work for the two weeks that encapsulated both Christmas and New Years Eve. Stark was the festive sort and Nat was the talkative sort. She’d let slip just as you informed your boss you’d be away and unable to attend his respective holiday parties that you hated the time of year. You cringed and it told Tony all he needed to know. But, begrudging and with a vow you’d attend the next year, he approved the time away. You scowled at Nat and promised her payback.

The drive was peaceful. The further you drove along the single lane highway, the deeper the snows grew, the quieter the air. You thought of how nice it would be to be alone. Somewhere where even the howls of wolves were muted in the sheets of snow, completely serene. 

Not hiding in the corner of the room as others drank and made merry in the false spirit of the season. Not putting on a smile to assuage propriety. Not lying about your plans for the days of cheer. Only you and nature and silence. Well, maybe some non-Christmassy music too.

Then your mind strayed. You had tried to be covert. Tried not to let on your pending absence. FOMA was not an emotion for you, in fact you feared having to partake. You made Nat swear not to tell anyone else; not to let Wanda know until it was too late, not to goad Pepper into her nagging, not to allude to Peter that his “second aunt” would be miles away. 

It had almost gone to plan. You woke up early to leave. You lifted your bag, afraid the wheels would give away your escape. You crept to the elevator but when the doors opened, Steve was there. He didn’t miss the guilty frown or the suitcase. He stayed on the elevator, though he’d only just taken it up, and made the descent with you.

“You’re leaving us?” He wondered. “Without a goodbye?”

“I’ll be back. I just didn’t want a whole...thing,” You gripped your suitcase and his hand settled next to yours.

“Let me help you with your bag at least,” He offered. “A Christmas present since you won’t get mine until you return.”

“Present? You didn’t have to--don’t have to--”

“What is it? You hate us, don’t you? Just put up with us for the paycheck?” He kidded.

“Steve,” You rebuked and he subtly tugged the bag away from you. “You know that’s not it.”

“Family?” He asked.

“Well...not exactly.” You admitted as the doors opened and he waved you out ahead of him.

“Not exactly?”

“I’m doing a favour for my aunt. Cleaning out her old summer cabin.” You explained as he followed you across the lobby. “A nice solitary reprieve.”

“Oh, are we that chaotic?”

“Not what I meant,” You grumbled as you passed into the parking garage. “Really. I’ll see you after when the city isn’t so...shiny.”

“Alright.” He wheeled your bag to your car as you popped the trunk. “But I don’t think you realize how much we’ll miss you.”

“You’ll survive,” You scoffed as he lifted your suitcase into the car. 

“Mmhmm,” He nodded and you closed the trunk.

“Don’t,” You warned him. “I already got the guilt trip from Tony. You’re better than him.”

“Sure I am,” He shrugged and you shook your head. 

“Alright, enough. I gotta go.”

Your farewell was more than that. Steve was persistent, as always. You’d finally managed to get a final goodbye as you were halfway in the car and he blocked you from closing the door. Maybe he didn’t realize how often he was in your way. How often he was at your desk gabbing away as you tried to concentrate on Tony’s chicken scratch or how he always found you on your lunch and kept you from listening to the latest episode of that one podcast. Maybe he didn’t, or maybe he did. Maybe the golden boy was a bit more tarnished than he let on. Or maybe he was as oblivious as he seemed.

You tore your mind back to the road. To the dull lights that shone in your rear view. When had they shown up? You were the only car for the last little stretch, not many ventured into this area later than September. You squinted at the car, the specks of snow obscuring it enough to be just discernible, and looked back to the road ahead. 

You were almost there, hopefully before the snow made the way impassable. Before you were forced to park your car in the forest and trek the rest on foot. You’d done it once before, but without the feet of snow to slow you. You wondered if you’d even make it should it come to that.

You made it though. The headlights disappeared from your mind and when you turned off they passed smoothly. You continued up the winding path, just wide enough for your car. Slow, steady, safe. When you pulled up to the side of the cabin you sighed. You’d have to shovel your way in, and maybe out when all was said and done.

You awkwardly pulled on your snow pants in the cramped interior of your car. You hit your head and elbows several times before you were left out of breath but protected. You had to push your way through the snow and into the garage. The shovel was covered in frozen cobwebs, the dusty and undisturbed space smelled like snow and isolation.

You grabbed the shovel and turned back. The snow continued to fall, adding to your chore. A few paths, to the door, to the car, around the back. It’d tire you out and see you til the morning when the real work began.

-

Your first day was spent dusty and wiping down the tables and walls. The work carried over into the second when at last you managed to sit still for more than a couple minutes. There was wood left in the shed but you were nervous you’d be out in the drifts, almost taller than yourself now, chopping more. You didn’t use much in the summertime when it was reserved for evening fires. Now it was shoved in the stove to heat the front room where you huddled under a blanket and shivered.

The generator powered the 70s style fridge but little else. You were left to flashlights and even an old oil lamp your aunt had bought at a yard sale. It was close to evening, the sky a pale blue threatening to turn pitch black. You sat with a book open in front of you, the words bolder in the reserved quiet of the cabin.

Your cell held the pages down, lifeless and without signal. Your mom couldn’t remind you of your desertion, Tony couldn’t try to guilt you, Nat couldn’t send those weird memes that were frighteningly dark. You were entirely unbothered by the winter owls and the distant snowy creatures of the trees. Christmas Eve had never been so perfect.

The date was in the back of your mind. You’d barely take note of it if it wasn’t on the lock screen. You moved to the sofa and reclined to read another chapter, yawning and curling into a ball. You’d been sleeping there to stay close to the stove and feed it in the early hours to keep it from dying. 

Another half chapter and your eyes were closing against your will. You closed the book around your phone and set it on the floor beside the couch. You pulled the blanket to your chin and clicked off the flashlight. You nestled into the cushions, the fire crackling and coaxing you deeper. You fell asleep, a slumber unusually rapt on the night before Christmas.

You didn’t wake to stoke the fire though, not that you realized in your sleep. Undisturbed, unworried. Until you did wake and not of your own accord.

The old cabin was known for its creaks and cracks. First built in the thirties and renovated in the seventies, it was expected. But this wasn’t a groan of aged wood, or the wind battering the old shingles, it was a footstep, and then another, and another. Soft against the hardwood, the clink of dishes, the sound of living.

Your eyes opened and you saw the stove glowing amber; finely stocked and burning boldly. Your heart seized and you sat up so suddenly you had to keep yourself from toppling to the thin carpet below. Surely a bear wouldn’t be so tactful, so careful.

You turned and looked into the kitchen. You recognized the golden head, the broad shoulders as the intruder stood at the kitchen stove. The smell of pancakes filled the cabin and you shivered as the blanket fell from your shoulders. You stood but he didn’t seem to notice. 

You tiptoed to the fireplace and grabbed a log from the stack. Surely a meagre weapon against him but what the fuck was he doing here? Steve Rogers in your aunt’s cabin, uninvited and quite possibly, unhinged.

You neared the door of the kitchen and he turned back to you. You held the log at the ready to swing. He held a spatula and was entirely unfazed by your fearful approach.

“Did I wake you?” He asked as if all was as it should be.

“What--What the hell are you doing here?” You clung to the log as he stepped closer.

“You can’t spend Christmas alone,” He said coolly. “I couldn’t let you.”

“Better yet, h-how did you even--did you follow me here?” You pointed the log at him as he tried to step closer. “No. Don’t. Steve, this is weird.”

“It’s dangerous here. All the snow. Out here alone. You need someone.” He replied as he turned back and flipped the pancakes. “Go on and grab a plate, these are almost done.”

You flinched. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t the Steve you knew. Well, it was in that he was sweetly making you breakfast but he was also intruding on your privacy. You stepped closer with the log and poked him. 

“Steve, you need to go,” You said. “Now.”

“Now that’s not very grateful, is it?” He ignored the log and went to the cupboard. He pulled out two plates onto the counter and switched off the stove. He piled the flapjacks on them and went to the fridge to find the syrup. “I’ve come here to keep you company, to keep you safe, and I’ve even made you breakfast.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” You kept the wood in front of you as he opened the silver drawer. “You’re really freaking me out.”

“And you want me to go out? Into the storm?” He nodded to the window, white with the whirl of the blizzard just outside. “I barely made it here.”

“Steve,” You whined. “Steve, stop.” You jabbed him harder with the log. He dropped the cutlery on the counter and turned to you slowly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing is--” He grabbed the log and wrenched it from your grip. “Wrong with me.” He broke it in half easily and dropped it. “What is wrong with you?”

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You insisted as you backed away.

“Will you just sit down and eat your breakfast?”

“I don’t want to. I want you to go.” You said.

“Jesus,” He breathed and wiped his hands on his jeans. “You always do this. You’re such a little tease.”

“What are you talking about?” You felt around as you passed through the doorway backward and he neared slowly.

“I might be born last century but I’m not stupid,” He said. “Your blouses, that smile, the way you chew on your pen when we talk, that fake laugh you put on.”

“Steve, you’re wrong, I never--”

“I just want you to have a Christmas to remember. For us to make our first Christmas special.”

You gulped and peered around. You looked back to him and lunged for the poker leaned against the wall. He grabbed it before you and tossed it away just as he pulled you back. He spun you around and threw you against the sofa. You fell onto it with a painful bounce and tried to push yourself back up. He was on you in and instant.

“Steve!” You yelped. “Steve, please stop!”

You beat on his chest as he wrestled with you. You had to be dreaming. This was some sick nightmare. He was so strong, so decisive. You tried to wake up, hit him hoping you would suddenly jolt up and find the cabin empty, but your eyes were already open and this was just as real as it felt.

He soon had you beneath him, straddled and squirming as he held your hands beside your head. You kicked your legs helplessly and he squeezed your hips between his thick thighs. His blue eyes were dilated and sinister as he pinned you down.

“Shhh, calm down. Please,” He tried to soothe you. “Honey, you can’t open your presents if you’re bad.”

“Honey? Don’t call me honey!” You spat. “Get off of me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He said. “Please, don’t make me.”

You stilled suddenly. You stared up at him, shocked. Was that a threat? From Steve Rogers? Well, he was on top of you and you felt the twitch in his jeans as he stared down at you.

“You wouldn’t,” You gasped.

“Only if you make me,” His voice was low and grimy. “Don’t make me.”

“Steve,” You pleaded in a whisper. “Please,” You tried to move and barely jostled him. “Let me go.”

He closed his eyes and huffed. He lowered his head and squeezed your wrists. He was angry, frustrated. You were terrified.

“You’ve already let our breakfast go cold,” His words were measured though his tone trembled. “You better start listening, honey, or you’ll ruin the whole day for us.”

“Steve, please…”

“Don’t.”

“Steve.”

“No. Don’t make me.”

“Steve, please, you’re scaring me.”

He let go of your wrists and for a moment, you thought he would get off of you. But he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed the neck of your loose sweatshirt and the tear of fabric was like a crack of lightning. The thin tank top beneath showed your nipples, hard from chill air, and he ripped it just as swiftly.

“No,” You tried to bat his hands away, tried to keep them from your bare chest. 

He pushed past your struggles and ground his pelvis into you. “You have to be good.” He hissed. “Or I’ll be bad.”

“Stop,” You sobbed. “Steve.”

You tried to shove him away but he didn’t relent. He bent over you, sliding back just slightly. He held your chin in his large hand as his other tweaked your nippled painfully. “Shhh,” He pressed his lips to yours and muffled your pleas. 

His hand continued to toy with you, kneading and pinching painfully. He groaned into your mouth and rocked his hips against you. His hand moved lower as his other threatened to break your jaw. You were forced to open your mouth and he quickly devoured you.

He tugged at the elastic of your sweatpants, hooked his fingers under your cotton panties as he pulled them lower. You reached down to keep them at your waist but he yanked them sharply from your grasp. He lifted his pelvis as he edge them down your thighs.  

He withdrew from your lip and held you down with a hand on your chest as his other worked at your pants. You grabbed his wrist, unable to budge him as your pants reached your knees. He got to his knees and you wriggled to get away. 

He caught you and pulled your legs out from beneath him. He leaned them against his torso, your feet at his shoulders. He pressed his thighs around your ass as he reached down between your legs. You squirmed and pushed at his hand. Kicked your tangled legs against him. He grabbed your ankles in one hand and held them to his left shoulder.

He shoved his fingers between your thighs and forced them between your folds. He shuddered and pulled his hand away. Your eyes widened, hopeful again. You tried to move your legs but he kept them firm against him. You looked down as he unbuttoned his fly.

“Steve.” You begged. “Steve, I’ll be good.”

“Too late,” He warned. “All you had to do was listen, honey. But you wouldn’t.”

You wheezed as he unzipped his jeans and you looked away as he revealed the head of his swollen cock. You felt him pull himself out entirely and you closed your eyes. You reached down to shove him away with just your fingertips. He ignored you, if he noticed your pathetic resistance at all.

He moved your legs. Pulled them as wide as they would go still caught in your sweats. Not much but enough. He held your left knee and guided himself along your most tender spot. You tried again to draw away but he had you trapped. He leaned over you, bending your legs just slightly as he rubbed his tip against your pussy.

He pushed inside just a little. You were too tight and too dry. You exclaimed and he pulled out. He sighed and you opened your eyes to watch him lick his fingers. You grunted desperately. “Please, don’t.”

He rubbed his slick fingers along you, wetted them again and forced them inside of you. He pressed his thumb to your clit and your body stiffened. Despite your fear, your body responded. He licked his fingers a third time, to taste, to add a little more, and shoved them even deeper.

He played with you a bit and then pulled his fingers out to spread your juices along his cock. He pressed his tip to you again, this time he slid in easily but not painlessly. He didn’t ease himself in. He pushed himself to his limit and past yours and you cried out.

“Ow! Ow! Steve, it hurts. Get off! You’re hurting me, please!”

“I told you,” He thrust once, sharply. “To be good.” He thrust again and you writhed in agony.

You gritted your teeth as you tried to hold back your yelps. He rocked against you steadily, each time you winced at the strain. His hands went to your thighs as he brought himself as deep as he could go. He leaned over you, your back curved as he curled your body beneath him. 

He planted his hands beside you as he raised himself over you. He lifted his pelvis and slammed it down, each time adding to the reverberations along your spine. He hammered you into the cushions as you whined. He watched your face as he worked against you, his pupils dark and wide. You grabbed his biceps and dug your nails into his skin.

“It really h--” Your breath caught. Surprised by the sudden tickle that crested the pain. “St-op...It--no.”

You covered your face with your hands as the coil wound tighter. You were ashamed and shocked at your response. The suddenness of the rise. The sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you added to the heat. Filled your head lewdly and carried you higher. You grunted as you were drawn thin and then the release washed over you.

He kept a hand beside you and pulled away your hands as you came. You closed your eyes and he carried on. Never wavered, only sped up. Didn’t let up as he chased another hill and you were forced over the edge again. You could feel his eyes on you, could feel his pleasure at stealing yours.

His groans grew louder and mingled with the sound of his body against yours. They sickening symphony reached its climax and you felt his release. Felt the gush within you as his hips jerked wildly. He emptied in himself inside you. Let forth all that he’d repressed. Anger, longing, resent; every ounce of it spilled out. He was left panting and weak, crushing your legs beneath him as he barely kept himself from slumping over you entirely.

He pushed himself back onto his knees. He pulled out and let your legs fall. Your body twisted as your knees hinged over the edge of the couch. You were shaking as you pulled your sweatshirt over your chest and his large hand settled on your ass. He caressed you, as if he cared, as if he had been sweet.

“We should eat,” He said as he drew away. The couch shifted as he stood and you heard his zipper. “Then we can start opening presents.”