#so I’m just cruising and enjoying the holiday season | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captainsimagines · 2 years

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the warmth of the future || one

Summary: It’s been two years since you fell in love with Bucky Barnes, and the holidays are just around the corner. With even more love, more friends, and more family in attendance, you and Bucky fully intend to enjoy these days with as little drama as possible. But that’s not always the case with a relationship like yours, is it?

Pairing: DBF James “Bucky” Barnes x (Fem) Reader

Based on the Song: ‘Willow’ by Taylor Swift

Warnings: strong language; age difference kink; exhibitionism; anal fingering (Bucky receiving); blowjob; unprotected sex

Word Count: 7,160+

Author’s Note: Oh, I’m so ready for the holidays this year. Can’t wait for you guys to start this mini-series! I love these characters just as much as you do, and after so many messages this year about this fanfic in particular, I just had to make a mini sequel. I love you guys so much. I hope you enjoy and get into the early holiday spirit.

“I take back what I said before. You’re probably going to die by getting hit by a fucking bus.”

The sound of the horn near you is impossible to recover from. You know Bucky heard that over the phone. Still, you continue to sidestep several pedestrians and another taxi, running to the subway. A few weeks ago you two theorized the craziest possible ways you both would die. Bucky bet you’d be abducted by aliens and killed for being so annoying. You bet he would die by falling off a train in the icy Austrian Alps. “Funny, Barnes. Excuse me for being excited for Christmas break.”

Bucky scoffs gently. “So excited you can’t look both ways before you cross the street?”

You’ve navigated New York streets for years now. You know every crack, every turn, by heart. “You want me home on time, or no?”

Bucky grumbles, “Just get home in one piece.”

Home. It seemed like Bucky’s two-bedroom above his bar was more of a home than your own apartment. You spent more time in Brooklyn than you did Manhattan. Peter had practically bullied you about how much money you were wasting on rent. And you were, no doubt. It was a pain to wake up in Brooklyn and have to travel to Manhattan for work, but you did it anyway. And besides, it made sense. Bucky works nights, so him staying the night in Manhattan was illogical.

But home. That was wherever Bucky was. Warm beside him and wrapped up safely. This would be your third Christmas together, the third you’re spending together back home with your dad. It feels like a tradition now. Bucky had tried convincing his sister, Becca, to join this year but she planned an impromptu cruise with her fiancé instead.

Bucky didn’t blame her, though. It was her engagement present apparently.

This time, Bucky had rented a car and you two would be driving down today. With your assistant tagging along. Not because you were working this holiday break, but because Peter Parker had nowhere else to go in the city. His aunt died this year and this would be his first holiday season without close family to celebrate with. Peter was going to meet you at your apartment, but you were running late, and Bucky was calling to scold you for it.

I’ll put the book down after chapter fifty, I promise.

That promise is stale, Doll. I know you.

I prooooomise.

You had not, indeed, kept that promise and read all the way to chapter sixty today. But you had to. This was Loki Laufeyson’s third book in his insanely popular trilogy. It’s an impossible read to put down.

The reception becomes spotty the deeper you go into the subway station.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get home in one piece. Hey Bucky, would you love me if I was a worm?” The group of teenage girls swiping their Metrocards giggle beside you.

“We’re not doing this again. Get home.”

Rolling your eyes for no one to see, you bid him goodbye.

Another holiday with your family, another holiday with your friends, another holiday with the love of your life. How could life possibly get better than this?

Life did have ways of planting the smallest mishaps. Take the snow for example: Did Bucky know driving in the snow was such a major pain in the ass? He figured. Did he listen to your warnings about having to buy chains for the tires earlier? Nope.

One gas station, Peter’s googling of instructions, and an hour wasted putting the damn chains on later, you finally passed the town sign welcoming you home.

Your childhood town looked the same. It always looked the same. Feelings of nostalgia, scents of cinnamon, and an overall sense of calm quickly settled into your stomach as Bucky drove through town. Leaning your head out the window, you grinned widely as the car passed Wanda and Pietro’s flower shop, closed for lunch. Half of you wanted to fly out the car and bust down the door. The other half really wanted to see your dad first. A four hour drive was nothing with a good playlist and some burgers on the way down.

Once you finally pulled up to your dad’s house, you flew out of the passenger seat before Bucky had the chance to put the car in park. He followed less quickly as you, but his face showed his contained excitement. “It looks like the whole crew got here before us—”

Bucky’s voice floats away as your body slams onto the icy grass. “Oof!”

Clint squeezes tightly, his body weight compressing you into a smooshed pancake. “You’re here!”

“My…lungs…”

Bucky’s boot comes into view. “Get off my girl, Barton.”

“You get to see her every single day! Let me have this!”

Struggling, you shimmy like a worm and try your hardest not to touch anything intimate on the giant squishing you. “Clint. Remove…yourself!”

Your boyfriend’s loud sigh precedes his show of strength. Grabbing Clint by the collar of his winter jacket, Bucky yanks him upward and drops him on a high pile of snow. “Idiot.”

Clint’s laugh is interrupted by Pietro’s loud announcement of, “We’ve started decorating already!”

Sitting up, you dust snow from your elbows as best you can. “Without me?”

“We had extra hands,” Pietro reveals, grinning like a mad man. Before you can ask, a muscled body steps from the front door and onto the porch, wearing too little layers for the temperature outside.

“Steve!” Bucky exclaims, abandoning both you and Clint in the snow to run to his best friend. “You lied about visiting your mom!”

Steve runs a hand down the back of his neck, instantly turning red. He meets Bucky at the bottom of the porch and shares that clap-on-the-back slash bro-hug. “She decided to spend it with her partner’s kids and let me know a week ago.”

You huff as you stand, now dusting off your ass. “We had lunch a week ago.”

He meets your eye over Bucky’s shoulder. “And I didn’t exactly lie. Just omitted the truth.”

“Big fat liar.”

Steve ignores you, completely accustomed to your sarcasm and kindergarten insults. His attention returns to Bucky, as you turn your attention to Clint.

“Sometimes I think you want to kill me.”

Clint snorts, “I’m not that heavy. You’re just small.”

He accepts the shove to his shoulder. Clint would never admit it, but he acts this way because he’s an only child. By teasing you, Kate, and Wanda, he’s able to channel all that big brother energy somewhere. Why only you three? No one knows. Pietro is the same age and yet, receives Clint’s best friend energy. Maybe Clint Barton was destined to be a girl-brother—like a girl dad. The words sound stupid in your head as you repeat it.

He pulls your mini-suitcase from the trunk just as Peter emerges, shy as always around new people. “Clint, this is Peter Parker! He’s my assistant, but for the next week he’s just a friend! Got it?”

Clint barely acknowledges a single word you said besides the formal introduction. He shakes Peter’s hand and welcomes him to town, pointing back at the house as Peter lugs his own suitcase forward. With the snow, the pink of his cheeks, and his raggedy bag, Peter Parker fits in perfectly. As if the town gave its blessing.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you like Steve?” Clint asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Uh,” you mumble, pulling Bucky’s suitcase out. “Ten. He’s been in my life since the beginning.”

Clint nods, a thin smile spreading across his face. Adjusting his hearing aid, he says, “Please let me know the new number when he tells you.”

“Huh?” But Clint’s already running back into the house, carrying your suitcase over his head. He’s lucky his dumbass didn’t slip on the driveway.

When you finally go inside, your dad and Sam are nowhere in sight. You can vaguely hear them near the back of the house, though. Steve is in the kitchen alone, chugging some water and Bucky gone.

“Why am I going to hate you?” you ask, setting your purse down on the dining room table. It’s littered with holiday decorations. Paper snowflakes, red and green candles, baking utensils.

Steve smirks, wiping his mouth. “I’m staying in your room.”

Your brows furrow. “Where the hell are Bucky and I supposed to sleep?”

“Oh, you’re staying in your room, too! Bucky gets the guest room.”

There it is.

“Wha—”

“Your dad isn’t taking any chances this time.”

Huh? What kind of joke was this? A cruel game Steve, Sam, and your dad must have come up with before you even entered the damn town, probably. “I’ve been dating the guy for two years! Of course we fuck!”

Steve purses his lips, eyes widening. “Oh, don’t worry, I know!” Sarcastic, loud, sonofabitch. “Fucking know well enough, too!”

One time. One damn time he walked in on you. “Don’t be jealous.”

He blinks. “Jealous?”

“You want to join? Just ask.”

Steve dramatically slaps his chest as he goes to grip at his heart. “I’m going to throw up in my mouth. Then I’m going to spit it on you.”

“Kinky.”

“You little—”

“Bumblebee!”

Your dad practically sprints into the kitchen, arms stretched wide. You jump up and down as you grip him tightly. “Dad!”

“The drive okay? You hungry?”

“Yes and no! How are you? How’s Monica?”

Your dad flushes at the mere mention of his girlfriend’s name. “Great. She’ll be here for the party.”

He swings you around twice, surprisingly strong for a man who works at a desk nowadays. Sam smiles brightly at the sight. “Gosh, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but that’s diminishing by the second. What’s this about you barring my boyfriend from my bedroom?”

Sam shoves Steve when he starts cracking up, scolding him. Your dad scrunches his face. “Bumblebee, the horror stories I’ve heard from your friends! From my friends! I understand young love—well, young and middle-aged love, really—but I have more guests staying here this season than just you! I’m being considerate.”

You grimace, then gag dramatically. “I don’t know what frightens me more. The fact that my own father views me as a sex-crazed monster or that I’m sharing a room with Captain Rogers.”

“I trust Steve. He’ll make sure no one goes in or out of that room.”

Steve continues to silently laugh behind Sam, who’s trying hard not to break himself. “Have I done something to you? Am I finally being rightfully punished for stealing one of your friends?”

Your dad scoffs playfully, pulling you in for a side hug. You hang limp, a bodily protest. “No, but now that you mention it, the punishment fits the crime.”

Steve pulls you from your dad, side-hugging you as well. “Don’t worry, pal. I’ll make sure she gets her full eight hours of sleep.”

“Suck my tit, Steve.”

“I’d rather not.”

Bucky chooses that moment to join the squabble, Clint and Pietro following close behind. “What’s happening?”

Shoving Steve away, his waist hitting the corner of the kitchen countertop, you disregard his yelp for Bucky’s attention. “Oh, Bucky, it’s horrible! It’s Romeo and Juliet all over again!”

“I may have missed the first time we lived that story,” Bucky says, his head tilting.

“We’re being separated! You and I are no more! The house is split!”

Steve groans, clutching at his side. His voice comes out gravely. “If it’s any consolation, I’m on your side, man.”

“It was my idea,” Sam offers, raising a hand. Looking back at him, he shoots you a cocky smirk.

“Sam…You traitor.”

“You’ll see each other all day. The nights aren’t going to kill you—”

“Shut up, Tybalt.”

Bucky gives you an unimpressed look. He’ll hype your Romeo and Juliet character reference later, but for now he needs to diffuse the situation.

He heard the conversation. He knows what you’re complaining about. Hell, he wants to complain too. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of his head telling him, Hey Bud. Remember that time one of your good friends invited you over during the holidays and you proceeded to fuck his daughter in every depraved position, every single night, while he was sleeping two doors over?

So he surrenders. “How about we continue with the decorations, yeah?”

“Why is it that you never fight by my side when my dad is involved?” you whine.

He clears his throat, smiling that white-person smile at your dad. “Either I stay on his good side and continue being with his beautiful daughter, or we duel and he wins.”

Your dad accepts this. “You earn some points with me by saying I’d win.”

Beside you, you feel Bucky relax instantly. Giving him the side-eye, you notice Peter emerging from the bathroom over his shoulder.

“Dad! This is Peter, my assistant!” Dragging Peter by the shoulders and presenting him like one would their greatest achievement, Peter holds out a timid hand.

“Ah! This is the man who dodges my calls by saying you’re in a meeting,” your dad jokes, shaking his hand.

Something flashes in Peter’s eyes. Alarm, panic, dread. Who knows. “The meetings were real, sir.”

“Well, either way. The couch is all yours! The more the merrier.”

“Thank you for having me, sir.”

“Everyone is welcome in my house! I try to be a good host.”

With those words, Peter’s eyes immediately soften. “Well, I’ve no longer got family in the city so this is a real honor.”

You notice how the words affect everyone. This tradition has run in your family since you were born—since before. It was an unspoken thing that everyone would convene at your dad’s house. Even if it wasn’t the largest, and people had to share beds, and everyone had to chip in for beer. But there was something about the fireplace in the corner, showcasing nine stockings with everyone’s names on them. The Menorah that was missing its final candle. The smell of cookies and pie every single day of December.

To share this tradition with a new edition, even if Peter might decide not to return next holiday season, filled you with honor.

Your dad, the king of making others feel a part of the club, asks Peter, “What’s your menu like? I’ll send Bumblebee to the store later today.”

Can’t forget that tradition, either. It was always your job to get everyone’s groceries for the week.

“I’ll go with you,” Pietro volunteers. “We’ll pick up Wanda along the way.��

You hum in response. “Make a list. Oh, and Steve?”

Steve lifts an eyebrow.

“I like to fall asleep to whale sounds and the sounds of gorilla’s mating.”

Bucky quickly agrees, just to fuck with Steve. The man who’ll be sharing his girl’s room, it seemed. Something silent but feral was festering in the pit of his stomach, but Bucky chose to make a joke of it instead.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You two have slept away from each other before. You don’t see each other everyday.

So Bucky won’t let it get to him.

He won’t.

Promise.

“You’re forced to share a room with another magnificent and stunning male?” Peggy laughs, clearly entertained by the news you’ve shared. Peggy follows you down the aisle with a basket in hand, waving off Pietro’s constant asks of carrying it for her. Wanda swipes the listed items off the shelves into the cart with impressive speed, only half-listening to the conversation. “I don’t see the problem!”

“I’m with Bucky.”

“So?”

“And it’s monogamous.”

Peggy huffs, “Then strike everything I would have said you do if you were me.”

“I personally don’t understand why Steve has to stay in your room anyway,” Pietro interjects. “Like, there are two couches in the living room.”

“Sam is taking one.”

“Then why not have Steve bunk with Bucky?”

Wanda twirls, a box of sugar cookies in her grip. “I can answer this one! Because even though Bucky slept with his daughter, our little Bumblebee is being scolded now. Your dad is getting revenge.”

So by having Steve bunk with you, it’s essentially torture…for you. Because you’ll have to be the one to sneak out if you dare; you’ll be the one dealing with Steve’s horrendous snoring; you’ll be the one who has to go down the stairs. It was brilliant. Evil and brilliant.

“Revenge? After two years?”

Peggy chuckles, moving her basket from Pietro’s reach again. “Fathers. Always such rascals. My father turned a blind eye and I loved him more for it.”

“My father isn’t turning a blind eye. He’s actively engaging in separating us.”

“I think it’s fucking funny,” Pietro admits, covering his mouth. “Sorry, Peggy.”

Peggy waves him off. “I think it’s fucking funny, too.”

“So, what?” Wanda scoffs, throwing a package of napkins in the cart. “So you’re separated for a week. You don’t have to fuck in the house. There are other places!”

“Wanda!”

“No, no, she’s right on that front!” Peggy admits. “Kate’s bar, the gym Clint attends, the motel!”

You groan, leaning down against the cart. Your chin rests on your folded arms and your back is at an awkward angle. “To stay at a motel like last summer? Then my father will know what we’re doing. And that makes my insides twist.”

“You’re young and you keep your man young. If fucking is the solution, then find a way to accomplish it.”

Pietro sends Peggy an incredulous look, frozen in place as the three of you pass him by. “Does she always speak like that?”

“Address me, dear. I can speak for myself.”

“Okay,” Pietro says, blinking a few times. “Do you always speak like that?”

“Only on Tuesdays.”

Pietro does the mental calendar-hopping in his head. Peggy Carter was the resident grocery store customer you formed an odd friendship with two Christmases ago. She had been outspoken then, and she’s definitely outspoken now. Just because she reigns supreme in age doesn’t mean that all she says and suggests is wise. Sometimes you wonder how she even got past her fifties with her mindset.

“Anyways, that’s my problem right now. Bucky and I will get through it and I will smother Captain Rogers in his sleep. Done!”

Wanda giggles, “He’s cute, though.”

Pietro rounds on her. “No, no! Stop talking.”

“He’s big and handsome and totally not off-limits for me.”

Pietro looks as if he’s just witnessed a mass murder. “I…He’s old enough to be our dad.” Then to you, “No offense.”

“If he had us in his teens.”

Pietro literally whines, “Wanda, I beg you. Do not fuck the Captain.”

“Are you going to let him order you, love?” Peggy asks Wanda, eyebrows high.

Wanda smiles, teeth and all. “Nope!”

Pietro whines again, watching his sister skip down the aisle. He calls after you, so you twist around slowly. “Talk her out of it.”

You shake your head. “You laughed at my predicament. Your sister can fuck who she wants.”

Pietro grumbles as you all pay for the groceries, as you say goodbye to Peggy, and on the drive home. Wanda seems to be two seconds away from cackling.

“This town is so tiny. It’s like a Hallmark movie.”

You give Peter a side-smirk while also holding the door open for him. He enters the bookstore like he’s on a mission, looking for everything and nothing at once. You figure he’s only accompanying you because he’s got nothing better to do in a strange town. And if he is planning on buying you a Christmas present—because he has literally no one else besides Bucky to buy one for—he probably wouldn’t buy it now while you’re with him.

“There’s talk about combining it with the town next over. But that never goes down well for us small town folk.”

Peter scrunches his nose, shaking his head. “Every place has a personality. Combining two doesn’t guarantee a functioning third.”

“You’ve got the right.”

Two Christmases ago you had found Bucky a perfect first-edition about rejected Christmas tales. This time, however, you’re thinking something different. Last summer you had edited a book and included one of Bucky’s major plot suggestions…which made it into the final draft. Bucky doesn’t know, and getting the book for him seemed like a proper gift with meaning attached to it.

Peter watches you drift into the fantasy section. He huffs a laugh, “Another book? What are you guys? Like, 50?”

“You followed my ass into a bookstore. What did you expect? Besides, we’re both avid readers.”

“So get the dude a bookmark.”

“I’m gonna get you a bookmark, you ungrateful son of a bitch.”

Peter laughs again. He grabs a random book and inspects the cover. “What else have you gotten him? I remember you getting him a book last Christmas, too. Actually, for the past two Christmases you’ve known each other.”

“The first Christmas doesn’t count. I had literally just met him.”

“And you got him a book. What did you get him for Hanukkah?”

Anal. But you’re not about to tell your assistant that little tid-bit.

So you answer, “An appropriate gift.”

Peter shakes his head. "A book is a gift that says ‘I love you’, sure. But you need a gift that says ‘I love you, and I want to screw you forever but as husband and wife.'"

Eyes widening, you practically sprint the short distance over to cover his mouth with your hand. “Shhh!”

“What—What?” he mumbles behind it.

“Don’t you dare mention marriage in this town. The gossip will spread, and next thing you know you’re pregnant with your ex-boyfriend’s child, who may or may not be the actual father because you were plastered when you slept with three different guys that same night.”

Peter blinks, waiting a few seconds after you remove your hand from his face to speak. “That’s too specific to be made-up.”

You shrug. “Happened to a cousin of mine.”

“Did she have the kid?”

“I think so. Haven’t seen her in years—”

The sound of your name cuts off your sentence. That voice distinct—unmistakable. Turning, you’re half-convinced you imagined it. But no—there he is. Beautiful as ever, and so much older than the last time you saw him. Like Bucky, you had missed seeing him every time you visited. Two people passing through and yet, never reconnecting. The voice of the only man you dated from this town.

“Peter,” you sigh, astonished by the chance meeting.

“Yeah?” Peter answers, confused.

“No—Peter,” you say, pointing at the man walking toward you, a bright smile on his face. “Peter Quill.”

“And he is?”

Quill extends his arms out in joyful greeting, surprise written across every feature of his fine face. “Well, I’ll be damned. I’ve heard you’ve been visiting every Christmas since you got that fancy New York job!”

You accept his quick hug. “Ever since! How are you?”

“Same old, same old. Dad retired, so I manage the business now.”

“Oh, that’s great! You always wanted to be the boss!”

He runs a hand down the back of his neck, blushing. “It is great. But I want to hear about you! I haven’t seen you since—”

“Since high school graduation.”

He nods, looking you up and down. Not in a sleazy way, but in a way that conveys pure wonder. Like you were a flower that had withered and magically revived. “You’ve…grown.”

You snort softly, pointing at his chest. “Obviously, both of us did.”

He blushes again. “Well, hey. How about we meet up sometime this week and have dinner or something?”

“I was actually planning on going to Kate’s tomorrow night for the fundraiser. You should come!”

His face brightens as he accepts. “You know, I just might. I don’t remember the last time I just sat down and had a beer in public.”

“Contracting that much of a hard job?”

“I am the boss.”

Peter clears his throat beside you, a half-smile plastered on his face. A somewhat incredulous smile.

Knocked from your one-on-one, you instantly start introducing them. “Oh shit. Peter, this is Peter. Peter Parker, my assistant.”

Quill adopts a proud look. “Assistant? Damn, Bumblebee, you’ve been climbing that ladder.”

Quill was the first one out of your friends who began calling you Bumblebee for shits and giggles. Then Wanda and Kate followed, then Clint, then the whole universe. Guess you have Quill to thank for it, but it still made you squeal as a teenager. Now it just functions as a term of endearment.

Peter waves a bored hand through the air. “I don’t get her coffee if that’s what you’re imagining. I google shit for her.”

Quill nods reassuringly. “A very important job indeed.”

Peter purses his lips. “So, Peter—”

“Oh, I go by Quill. It’s been my nickname since…forever, really.”

“Quill…High school friends, then?”

Your eyes settle into a I know what the fuck you’re doing glance. As if daring Peter to investigate further.

But Quill gives him the answer he’s looking for. “We used to date.”

Peter bends forward, over-exaggerated amusement spilling from his literal pores as he slaps his palms against his knees. “Really!”

“Yeah, like ten years ago,” you deadpan.

“Still interesting news!”

Pursing your lips, you turn back to Quill. “Don’t mind him. He’s this close to being fired.”

Peter puffs, “Who else will close the blinds and lock your office door for you whenever Buck—”

Quickly, you pat Quill’s shoulder. “I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night, Quill. The festivities start at eight!”

He stares down at you, something raw flashing in his eyes. Something akin to eagerness. “Looking forward to it.” He takes whatever was in his hands and pays at the front counter, shooting you one final grin before exiting the store.

Peter steps in front of you, arms-crossed and expression smug. “You invited your ex-boyfriend to hang out with your friends and current boyfriend?”

“Hey, he’s Clint’s friend too! And Quill literally lives here.”

“Did Clint ever make out with him?”

You raise a hand to pinch your index and thumb together. “This close to being fired, Parker.”

He turns and skips down the aisle, ignoring your threat. “I feel like I’m in a movie! Small town, old boyfriend, current boyfriend, the holidays!”

Jogging to catch up to him, you basically abandon the thoughts of Christmas presents in order to convince the little shit he’s reading the situation wrong. “Nothing is going to happen with Quill ever again. Do you hear me?”

“Were you and I looking at the same man?”

Glaring, you promise, “Just because he bulked up doesn’t mean my panties are going to drop.”

“Ah, but you did notice he’s huge.”

You exit the store, leaving him a few feet back. “You’re fired.”

Dramatically, Peter presses, “But who will google the definitions of words that stump you when you’re editing?”

The air conditioner blasts around your hundredth sigh. And yet, it’s still not loud enough to mask the sound of Captain Steve fucking Rogers snoring on the floor at the foot of your bed.

What the fuck was your dad thinking? This was so fucking awkward for both you and Steve, obviously, but Steve was too good of a man to say anything. He was given the opportunity to play the protect our shared daughter from boys card, and he snatched that shit right up. Now you were cursed with his snoring practically in your ear, a personal assistant sleeping on the couch downstairs, and a boyfriend a whole staircase below you. A boyfriend that was probably wide awake and low key theorizing all the ways he’d kill Steve in the morning.

Because even though he trusts Steve, and Steve has obviously shared space with you before back in New York, the mere fact you’re alone with an attractive male who is not him must be eating at his self-control. Hell, it’s eating at you. It’s not fun when Steve plays the angel card. He’s much more fun when he fights back.

“Steve,” you whisper-yell, locking your muscles tight as you wait for a response. But the only verbal response you receive is another loud snore. “Steve.”

He doesn’t stir. Slowly, painstakingly slow—you slip from under the covers and tip-toe to the door. Looking back, you’re half convinced Steve will roll over and point with a loud declaration of, “Ha-ha! Got you!”

But the big lug snores and chokes, deep in whatever sedated dream he’s currently experiencing.

Rolling your eyes, you then step out into the hallway with the grace of a literal swan. Sidestepping the noisy wooden planks, avoiding breathing when you walk past your dad’s closed door, pausing between each stair on the way down. The second you touch the carpet, you silently cheer.

Now all you’ve got to do is pass Peter Parker and Sam Wilson. Which proves easy as well, considering Peter’s draped over one couch, on his stomach, with one leg out the blanket and a hand tangled in his hair. Out cold. Sam’s on his back, arm folded over his face, and snoring loudly.

Pulling your phone out of your pajama-shorts pocket, you send Bucky a text.

Open the door.

There’s no response, but there is the distinct sound of bedsheets ruffling and soft pads of feet across the floor.

Bucky opens the door, and the soft orange light shining behind him gives him such a lovely halo, such a gorgeous glow, that you’re tempered to fall to your knees and pray.

“I’m not dueling your dad,” he says, glaring and squinting at the same time.

“Then we’ll have to be quiet.”

He huffs, leaning his forehead against the doorframe. The door is only slightly cracked open, like he’s restraining himself. “Doll…”

“Please?” Because what else can you say?

“Fuck…We’ve gone a week celibate before. How is this any different?”

Biting your lip, you admit, “Everyone’s telling me that I can’t.”

Bucky smirks a little. “So, I’m forbidden fruit?”

Now you pull out the big guns. Still biting your lip, you tilt your head down—barely—and lift your right foot up—barely—so it looks like you’re faintly tempted to cross your legs. “Please.”

Bucky’s eyes slowly close, and his nostrils flare. He pulls you in, expertly shutting the door with a faint click. Immediately, you attack his lips, kissing him feverishly. Like you’ve forgotten his taste. Like you can’t get enough.

“Doll—“

“I want to fuck you.”

Sucking in a harsh breath, Bucky asks, “Yeah?”

You nod the best you’re able, your lips still pecking his. “Mm, I want to see if you can be quiet.”

Bucky detaches himself long enough to speak, his hands gripping your waist. “And here I was thinking you were a little cockslut for me today. But you actually want to make me beg for it.”

You whine softly in response.

“Torture, is what that is. Selfish, and evil.”

You didn’t even realize Bucky had been walking you toward the bed until he crashed into it, dragging your body onto his. With him splayed out underneath you, your fantasies grow supreme.

“It’s both. I want your cock inside me, but I want to see that look on your face you only get when I fuck you just right.”

Bucky’s hips hitch upward involuntarily. “God, I love you.”

With a small giggle, you lean down to nibble on his neck.

Was it dangerous to do this on the very first night? Not exactly. If you were caught, you would just be bullied to the ends of the earth because of it. You’ll be hearing this story even when you are old and in diapers. Your dad may have some choice words with you in the morning, and his gun would definitely make an appearance—aimed at Bucky, of course—but he’d get over it.

Yes, this whole exhibitionist thing you and Bucky have going on is the slightest bit rude. You’re a guest at your father’s house, not a resident. You don’t pay the mortgage. He asked this one simple thing of you for the duration of your stay: Do not share a room with your lover, one of my best friends, under my roof.

But are you respecting his wishes? No.

Does it feel naughty and so fucking nasty, though? Yes.

By the time you get to the, “Will I feel guilty in the morning?” internal bit, Bucky’s cock is deep inside your mouth, and you’ve been stripped of all of your clothes.

Bucky grips the bed sheets as hard as he can, his metal hand squeaking in the otherwise quiet room. His breathing is erratic, but not loud enough to warrant inspection.

Popping off him, you run your tongue from the base to the tip, swirling it around and sucking—one of Bucky’s favorite moves. His tip is the most sensitive part. And when you dip the tip of your tongue over his slit, Bucky nearly shouts. His flesh hand shoots down to grip your hair, half-trying to ball it into a ponytail and half-trying to move it out of the way in whatever direction he can.

“Fuck, look at those lips,” Bucky praises. His eyes meet yours when you look up at him, cock hard on your tongue, and his mouth drops from a sudden rush of tingling pleasure that hits the base of his stomach. “Fucking born to suck my cock, huh?”

With a few final long licks and deep sucks, you release his cock to stand from the bed. “Born to suck and fuck you, Barnes,” you giggle. “Did you bring the lube?”

Bucky rests his head against the pillow, chuckling softly toward the ceiling. “I brought it in case of a quickie and we wanted to skip your prep.”

Humming, you snap open the lid and walk back to the bed. You don’t miss the hungry look Bucky has as he visibly eats your figure up. Settling between his legs, you pat the outside of his right thigh. “Open up, sweetheart.”

“God,” Bucky quietly moans, and bends his knees. Spreading them farther apart, he presents himself to you. And fuck, is he a treat. Cock hard and red, dribbling against his lower abdomen. His balls locked tight, practically begging to be fondled. And his tight, puckered hole waiting for your fingers.

Spreading some lube onto your index finger, you look up at him. “Do you want to fuck me after this?”

“Sweetheart,” he mocks, sucking in one deep breath as he watches you warm the lube between your fingers. “I don’t come unless you come, too. Got that? Don’t you dare make me feel good and then leave yourself untouched.”

“I can always return to my room and take care of myself there. This is for you.”

You say the last sentence with the most teasing tone you can conjure. Bucky Barnes is wholly complete to you. Meaning, there isn’t a puzzle piece left unturned, a secret left untold, or a wish left unsaid. And even though people claim you never stop learning about a person no matter how long you’re with them, they’re wrong about that. Because even if you “learn” something new about Bucky, it’s a given. Something you may not have guessed entirely accurate, but something irrevocably him that it proves to be the most obvious thing in the world.

And as raunchy as this example was, you know Bucky would never let you leave this room without coming at least once, but you never thought he’d declare it so hot and angrily.

“Fuck yourself in front of my friends and see what happens.”

Smiling wide, you lay the pad of your index against his hole. Bucky tenses, gritting his teeth at the sudden touch. “You want to fuck me in front of Steve?”

Bucky growls, suddenly reaching forward to grip the back of your head to tug you down. With a tiny yelp, you fall forward onto his chest, your lips a centimeter away from each other.

“That’s already happened, and it was an accident.”

Slowly, you push your finger into him. Bucky swivels his hips, the movement itself an ask for you to do something else with the intrusion.

“Oh? I remember you admitting to me that it was one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to you, even if Captain Rogers, one of your best friends, saw my wet cunt stretched around your cock.”

Bucky slams his lips against yours, his mouth parting when your finger starts sliding in and out, in and out. He tightens around you, and his hips swivel again. You rise up so you can get a better view.

“You like when people know how well you fuck me.” Pulling out, you massage his hole before lining up your middle finger. You slide both fingers in as you say, “Especially when I have to look those people in the eye the next day.”

Pumping into his body, you marvel at the way his face scrunches in pleasure. How his mouth parts and his bottom lip shines. How his throat bobs and his skin turns a dark pink. How his chest heaves and his nipples harden. Nipples you find yourself leaning toward and biting softly, pulling the pebbled tip between your teeth. Bucky whines, his breathing quickening.

“Sometimes I just want you to rip my jeans off in front of everyone and fuck me right there. I want you to talk them through it—what it feels like, what you want to do to me. I want a fucking audience for when your cock finally leaves me and I’m dripping your—“

“Doll, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up or else I’m exploding right here, right now.”

Bending your fingers, you rub against his prostate until he’s writhing. His cock gives a slight pulse, then another and another as you nearly rub him to completion. But you alternate between fucking him with your hand as fast and coordinated as you can, then stopping to stroke him from the inside. It’s a combination that always brings Bucky to fucked-out tears.

“Tell me when you want to switch,” you assure him. “Tell me and I’m all yours.”

“You little minx,” he grunts, hands sliding along your waist and up to your tits. He pinches a nipple with his metal hand, elated when your face slackens. “Now, sweetheart. Make yourself come now.”

With one final swipe at his prostate, you remove your fingers and wipe the excess lube off on the bed sheets. Then, in one of the most practiced moves you’ve come to achieve, swing your leg over until you’re hovering over his cock, and sink onto him.

“Fuck,” he moans, gripping your hips as he readies to bounce you. But he lets one hand travel, one hand rise and smack your mound. Quickly, you cover your mouth with your hand, clenching your eyes shut.

Pussy-slapping. Huh. Everyday you find out something new about yourself.

He does it again. And again, and again, until you get the message and begin lifting your hips. Bouncing up and down, clenching purposely just to teeter him over that sweet edge, pinching his nipples whenever he did yours.

It’s rough and wet and possibly a little too loud for your predicament, but it’s too good to stop. Every spring of your hips reminds you of that glorious fullness, how the girth of Bucky’s cock burns and shocks and blesses you all at once. Reminds you of his sculpted body beneath yours, a body that has lain there and took it, a body that has draped itself over you and encased you with loving warmth. And the whimpers he expels, the way he bites his lip, the way his fingers leave masculine imprints on your skin…it’s evident you’re the same way, that your face contorts the same way his does, that your nails are leaving light red marks on his chest.

A magnificent pair—two bodies, two people attempting to reach a new height hidden at the base of stomachs, at the edges of spines, in the melting slush behind ribs.

Fuck your exhibitionist kink. You can’t stay away from Bucky because you, simply put, can’t stay away. If you weren’t horny tonight, you’d bet millions that you still would have snuck in and simply held him goodnight.

Bucky tugs you forward until you’re chest to chest, practically hugging, and holds you there as he fucks up into you. Fast, deep, desperate.

“I fucking love you,” he whispers through a moan, his voice near your ear. “Love you with all my goddamn heart.”

“I—” He hits that spot inside of you, and continues to hit it once he realizes. “I love you.”

His arms unwrap from your waist so he can grip your ass, spreading you wider as he pumps. “C’mon, Doll. Come for me. Come all over my cock like the cockslut you are.”

Biting into his shoulder, you shatter completely. Black spots impair your vision, and your back practically bows. Bucky fucks you quicker, and with a low grunt, spills into you.

Sweaty and overheating, you lift yourself with weak elbows. His eyes are still closed as you comment, “For the record, the next time I fuck you in this house, it’ll be with a strap-on and you’ll be bent over this bed, do you hear me?”

Bucky smiles through his post-orgasm daze. “Fuck yes. Make me that promise, sweetheart. Make me your cockslut.”

You chuckle deeply. “It’s funny when you say it when you refer to yourself.”

He blinks an eye open. “Funny?”

“Cute,” you correct. “Because it’s you admitting you’re as much of a horny little bastard as I am.”

Bucky snorts softly, and helps lift you from on top of him. Reaching over the nightstand, he snatches a couple tissues. He cleans what he can, but a bathroom trip is required. “You better sneak back to your room before someone gets suspicious about my light being on.”

“Maybe Steve woke up.”

“Steve sleeps through those loud as fuck broadcasted alerts and earthquakes. I highly doubt the jerk woke up on a silent night like this one.”

“Not so silent anymore.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. You dress, plant a long kiss on Bucky’s bruised lips, and slip from the room undetected. Peter hadn’t moved from his spider position and Sam still snored loudly. Nothing in the kitchen has been disturbed.

You succeeded. You actually fucking succeeded. With a wonderful tenderness between your legs and a blush on your cheeks, you gently climb the stairs and open your bedroom door. Steve lies on his stomach now, sprawled out and practically dead.

You’ll have to sleep without Bucky’s arms around you tonight, but knowing he wanted you as badly as you wanted him? Bliss.

TAGLIST: [on masterlist]

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x female reader #holiday fanfic #marvel fanfiction #avengers au #warmth of winter sequel #warmth of the future #part one #captainsimagines #by Moni #dbf!bucky #dbf!buckybarnes

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cloveroctobers · 2 months

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SAFE & SOUND — ARMAN MORALES X READER X ANGEL REYES: [Spring Prompts]

A/N: it’s going to be tough getting through the cleaning lady this season but it’s always the work that lives on that continues to inspires us. Just from the premiere also sparked this little thing + I also assumed I’d stop writing for Angel once Mayans MC ended but after a name drop in TCL here I am lol! That angel was handsome too IJS. Bet you thought you could get rid of me huh!? Hope y’all enjoy my first spring prompt of the year!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: “Spring is so boring there aren’t any good holidays.” “Have you forgotten Easter, St patty’s day, Mother’s Day, April fools-” “I get it, I get it!”

FIRST GIF WAS FOUND THROUGH PINTEREST SO IT BELONGS TO IT’s RIGHTFUL OWNER + THE SECOND BELONGS TO: @dailymayans !

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The Vegas heat was doing what it does best, roasting down on you despite residing in a mountain area. You’re used to it, being from this state and living here all these years; although it was the fresh start of April, the eighty degree heat demanded to be felt. You’re out on the balcony, leaning over it, one arm exposed to the sun while the other went to work fanning yourself with your silk handheld folding fan staring out into the view.

Your bathing suit is somewhat dry still clinging to you although you, Angel, and Mavy got out of the community pool (over a half hour ago) as soon as it started to get over crowded with your fellow neighbors. Your body was slouched over the balcony, mindlessly fanning yourself as you sank into your boredom.

Angel chuckled at you from behind, leaving the balcony door open just a crack behind him with a beer in one hand. He briefly touched your lower back in greeting before moving to dramatically copy your movements but instead with the back of his hand resting on his forehead. “What you doin’ out here querida?”

“Oh you know, just losing my mind. Nothing too serious.” You replied while Angel snorted at you.

He sips at his cold beer before saying, “I asked you if you wanted go cruising this weekend and maybe end up in the city for a night but you weren’t feeling it. So…I’m guessing you didn’t enjoy your time at the pool?”

“With my two favorite boys…of course I did.” You weren’t sarcastic this time, “it’s just that I’m imagining spring break to be a real drag.”

Angel furrows his brows, not even knowing when that was coming up but still said, “so what are you saying? You wanna live out your college dreams again, head down to Miami to get wild or something?”

It was your turn to laugh as you tug on his shorts waistband, “Why would I need to relive Miami when I got my hoochie daddy right here?”

“Ah, Fuck outta here,” Angel laughed as he playfully smacked your hand away from him while you winked.

Pressing your temple into your balled up hand you sighed after awhile, “what im getting at is: Spring is so boring there aren’t any good holidays.”

Angel raised his brows at this, not entirely believing that you found the season to be boring since you just went out the way last weekend to go shopping for spring decor. He was glad he had to work that weekend because he just knew you would have him in those stores for hours like you commonly did, he just felt bad for maverick in the end though.

“…Have you forgotten Easter, St. patty’s day, Mother’s Day, April fools-” he ticks off with his fingers while you roll your eyes.

You interject, “I get it, I get it!”

It’s not like angel cared much about those holidays either…(he wasn’t the best at remembering dates) well maybe the last one he found the most interest in but now he was trying to do something different in life for Maverick and since he met you (who did care for holidays) after the big move here. That sweet baby boy changed the trajectory of the way angel looked at life now and he wanted his kid to experience nothing but greatness and if he could provide that he would. He also liked watching you interact with Maverick and you both seemed to have a good time on Easter, doing kids activities like: painting eggs, going Easter egg hunting, and even getting a picture with a weird looking Easter bunny that now sat on the mantle in the living room.

Angel was even going to church now when he felt up to it and knew his mother would probably be proud of the way he turned his life around. How life was so different from what it could have been. He could be the one in the ground with his family but Angel knew he was meant to be right here, no matter how painful it got to be here.

He reshaped his life and was glad to say that he did it.

“You know, there’s plenty of things we can get into now that Mav’s down for his nap. I can be your source of entertainment.” Angel hints, slipping an arm underneath your cover up and tugging you to him.

You smirk as you meet his dark eyes, fanning yourself with one hand while the other grips his tatted arm. “Is that right?”

“Uh huh,” Angel hums pressing into you as he bites his bottom lip before pecking yours.

It wouldn’t be the first time out here on this balcony but you wouldn’t make it a repeat since it was too hot for all that. And you didn’t need to hear angel’s complaints of his ass being scorched thanks to the material of the balcony! However with the way the both of you ended up, tongues battling, hands roaming and squeezing with Angel’s back against the balcony now, it was becoming difficult trying to get the words out.

His hand’s are full of kneading your backside and he lets you breathe while he’s attacking your neck now, just the way you like it underneath your ear, his facial hair tickling your skin as he does so. Your fan and his beer are both out of your grasps now as you’re scratching at his back, which is just enough indication for Angel to lift you by the waist and up against his hips. He buries his face back to your skin, loving the way you smell as you hold onto him.

Your eyes peek open, breathing still ragged as you hold on but soon your eyes focus out towards the fence that blocks the condo’s from the main highway, spotting a figure who has their attention solely on you. At first you expect it to be some sort of creep watching you be intimate with your boyfriend but a palm goes up into the air before they remove their sunglasses.

Your breathing stops and Angel instantly notices you go still against him. He pulls back to glance at you, “you alright?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you slowly place your legs down and Angel steadies you, still keeping a hand across your hips before he follows your stare. Angel’s eyes are in slits now, craning his neck and he’s on defense mode now, “fuck are you doing here?!”

You slap Angel’s arm to ease him while the man slowly steps closer to the building and both of your eyesight’s.

He says your name in greeting, “…hey, can we talk?”

Angel’s against it once he spots your hesitance but once you move, he’s not far behind you. You’re waiting at the front door, eyes to the right as you await for the man to make his way up the steps. He jogs up the last few steps, quickly making his way over to you while holding his sunglasses.

You’re still holding your breath as you take in his appearance, and it’s still the same man that you had the chance to spend your childhood with. The both of you don’t say anything, just staring and tracing over each others features with your eyes and Angel doesn’t like the feeling that sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

“You’re Armando right? You don’t look like any of the pictures.” Angel breaks the silence from behind you, arms crossed.

Arman flicks his eyes to your boyfriend, he takes in Angel’s appearance for a second before turning back to you, “Please, call me Arman…and Pictures?”

You exhale, “oh…yeah just two. The one from Costa Rica and your personal favorite: The selfie you took with my digital camera, the one you stole to impress that girl in photography class who already had a boyfriend—

“Did she though? I don’t recall.” Arman smirks and you scoff with a roll of your eyes, “but yeah I think I remember that one. It was the week after we finished junior year, Back when you were working at the skeeball section and Alicja Bosko purposely threw the ball at your shoulder to show off to her jackass boyfriend.”

You nodded remembering that huge bruise you received later that night, “Steven Jefferson. He was actually one of the nicest on the basketball team, if not the only one.”

“That’s because he was in love with you.” It was Arman’s turn to roll his brown eyes while you shook your head.

“No he wasn’t,” you crinkled your nose, “he was too far up Alicja’s ass.”

Arman argued, “yeah well maybe he should have been in theater instead of his brother because he wasn’t fooling me.”

You shrugged your shoulders with a small smile at the little walk down memory lane but knew to agree to disagree. It’s not like it wasn’t possible since you and Steven shared a few classes together, worked on a project or two because you sat near or next to each other but it didn’t cross your mind then. And you also weren’t aware that Steven questioned Arman once, after school when you went home early if the two of you were some secret couple. That was just the clean version of what Steven really said, which landed Arman on a three day suspension and Steven missing out on the next two games.

“…but the picture? It had to be of you having Alicja by the throat in the background while I had the most mischievous smile on my face…I can’t believe I forgot how much of a little shit I was.” Arman chuckled to himself while you nodded at him in amusement before he turned back to Angel, “plus it would make sense that I look different as a teen to present day right? Being a grown successful man does that to you, huh?”

He playfully slapped Angel on his shoulder before he squeezed himself by, taking in your home.

‘Now who the fuck did this guy think he is?’ Was exactly what Angel was thinking.

You squeezed Angel’s wrist as he sent you a look before kicking the door shut behind you.

“Feels much better in here and I see you’re doing well for yourself too.” Arman stood in the middle of the home.

Although he resided in the same state as you but at a great distance, Arman was still aware of your professions of once being a PI but now worked for a cybersecurity company as an intelligence analyst. He was proud to see that you were still driven but ultimately knew that wouldn’t change.

Angel muttered, “I bet it does when you’re not dressed like fucken blade in Vegas.”

“What was that?” Arman’s got his hands on his hips, bringing his attention back to the tatted man.

“Angel’s just wondering what you would like to drink.” Smiling hard at your boyfriend, he sucked his teeth with a roll of his head and rushed by you two.

He went around the corner by the dining area to the left where the closed off kitchen was. Once he pulled the fridge open, he missed out on you and Arman reaching out for each other to give each other a squeeze but not long enough to the point it would bring tears.

Arman couldn’t take tears from you, never could.

“Angel’s also wondering what brings you here and why you felt the need to stalk his girlfriend from the bushes.” He inquired, appearing just as you’re motioning for Arman to have a seat on the couch.

Angel slides a Gatorade on the coffee table (this Arman character wasn’t getting any of Angel’s good beer. By the looks of Arman, Angel had a feeling he probably wouldn’t drink it anyway.) and plops down on the sitting chair on Arman’s left.

Arman awkwardly laughs, “right…didn’t mean to intrude on you two…” he sends a knowing smile at you while you shrugged with a flick of your hair, “and I know that probably looked insane so I do apologize for that. I just had to make sure I had the right place.”

You suggest, “Next time maybe a phone call would be better?”

“Can’t exactly trust that lately.” Arman admits which makes Angel sit up, sending you a glance before Angel is pressing his elbows into his knees while Arman continues, “Look…I’m not here to cause any trouble but I had to see you…just in case.”

Angel wasn’t sure what that means but he had a feeling and he didn’t like being out of the loop of what was going on. He left Santo Padre for a reason and he found something special with you…yet someone from your past just shows up out the blue—that you haven’t seen in who knows how long, with a nice cut on his lip, brow, and cheek! and who knows where else! Arman didn’t seem to be walking normally if you asked Angel and this guy was saying things like he was preparing for the worse! In conclusion: sounded like a red flag to Angel.

“Before you expand on that…there’s just a few things that I do need to get off my chest.” Angel interrupts the intense eye contact you were sharing with another man.

Arman blinks over at Angel, “okay…”

“How long has it been since you two last saw each other?”

Arman looks to you again and you round off, “it’s been years, maybe fifteen? but the postcards and little figurines made it seem like less.”

Angel wasn’t aware of any of that but it’s not like you kept your friendship with Arman much of a secret. There wasn’t anything to hide in the first place. You always spoke highly of him and Angel couldn’t really grasp the idea of a man and a woman being just friends if they weren’t family. Yes that was his projection but he’s never seen anything like this that wasn’t romantic.

He rubs at his face in thought while Arman smiles softly at you, lightly shoving your knee and in that moment Angel was thankful he did the honors of tying your coverup before you opened the front door. Sorry not sorry.

Angel just comes right out with it, “so…were you two ever a thing? Serious or just foolin’ around?”

Your eyes go wide and Arman laughs at this, which irritates Angel.

“No.” Arman clearly states, “We maybe soulmates but not in a romantic sense, which makes this friendship so much more easy to have, no matter how many years pass us by. I love your girlfriend but you don’t have to worry about me falling in love with her because that’s your job, right?” He stares hard at the bearded man, almost daring Angel to say the wrong thing.

Angel immediately nods his head, feeling the tension ease somewhat from his jaw although he can feel your heated stare on him also. You already told him what it was with Arman when he asked you about your love for him once before and didn’t particularly like that he was bringing it up again to Arman. However Angel wanted to make sure that this wasn’t one sided and he had no shame in that.

“Good!” Arman claps, “then we have nothing to worry about. As long as you’re good to her, then we won’t have an issue.”

“…we’re good to each other.” You tell, wanting Angel’s eyes to settle on you, which they do before he sits back with a crooked smile.

Satisfied.

You shake your head at him and turn back to Arman who’s watching the exchange. You place your hand on Arman’s which is now thrown along the top of the couch, “And I’m glad I have all of my boys back underneath one roof. Except one of them doesn’t work my nerves as much.”

Arman scowls as he looks at Angel, “I find that hard to believe.”

“Fuck does that mean?” Angel feels his lip curl while Arman holds his hands up in surrender with a smile as Angel says, “she’s not talking about me but you don’t have to assume shit with that smug smile on your face, man.”

‘Lookin’ like the damn monopoly man and shit.’ Angel thinks to himself but he was trying to keep things cordial.

Arman tilts his head at this, “…there’s another guy that loves to take up your time? Don’t tell me—

“Relax,” you soothe, “I didn’t biologically have Maverick but I love him like he’s my own.”

“And I can’t thank you enough.” Angel tells you with a glint in his eye, “you have any kids, Armando?”

Arman slowly shakes his head putting the pieces together silently after spying a picture above the fireplace before he thinks of his own situation, “no but I too know a kid that I’ll always protect.”

“Aw, look at you having the parenting bug.” You wiggle the man’s shoulder.

Arman sighs trying to fight back a smile, “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your face did.”

“She’s right.” Angel agreed.

Arman attempts to whisper, “Don’t say that too much or her head will explode.”

You pinch the back of the skin on Arman’s hand who hisses before yanking his hand away. Angel laughs at you two, finding that this Arman guy might be alright in his book.

“I’ve missed you, you know? Even when you still do that pinching shit.” He shakes his hand about before rubbing it.

“I know and so have I, Armani-man.”

He chuckles, “haven’t heard that in awhile.”

“What?” You gasp as you mention, “Don’t tell me Nadia hasn’t hit you with annoying spins on your government?”

Yes you were also aware that Arman found his Mrs. Morales out there in the world. At first you felt a way about it since he simply sent over a picture and a brief letter to your mailbox during your late twenties and not an invitation to the wedding. Which he later explained in the attached letter that it was a spur of the moment ceremony out of the country. You only knew bits and pieces of what Nadia was like and what she looked like. However there seemed to be a shift in Arman at the mention of his wife.

As soon as you noticed it, it was gone, leaving the guarded man to exhale, “…only when she wants something.”

“You too, huh?” Angel cracks open the Gatorade before taking a sip, “ever get hit with a ‘hoochie daddy?’”

Arman blinks before oddly staring back and forth at you two, “A what?”

“Never mind my boyfriend,” you fan your hand, “you said you came here to visit me just in case of what exactly…”

Arman dips his head and clears his throat. When he starts cracking his fingers with one hand, you notice it’s still something he does when there’s a lot on his mind even with the both of you settling into your own adulthoods. That alone makes you scoot closer to him, balling your legs to the side of you as you rest your head back against his arm.

“I’m here. Always.”

This he knew.

He never imagined plopping back into your life like this, on the run and keeping it all away from the two women he’s in love with but it was a fact that you knew the start. And if that’s what he had to go back to, then so be it. Part of him felt like he should feel guilty bringing you back into this, while at the same time he knew the levels of your relationship and that you would always look out for him too.

The both of you grew up together and then separately because arman sought out for more that his father didn’t approve of and the connection between you two was just as strong then as it is now. It wasn’t conditional on your part, which is why the both of you still had a friendship. That was evident with the way you two moved around each other and Angel felt like he should be jealous.

Oh but he was! especially with the bits of affection he witnessed, that was something he didn’t want to get used to but maybe he was starting to understand? Angel would grasp it more if he saw how Arman was around this Nadia person and had a feeling he probably would the longer Arman stayed or came around. However both you and Arman knew it wouldn’t be a long span of time. It’s just not the way he operated.

He was always on the move.

“Do I need to give you two the room?” Angel places his hand on his chest, “I really don’t want to in fear that I’ll start smoking again but my heart, yeah I got that, is saying I prolly should.”

You peek up at Arman, the both of you sharing a laugh before Arman nudged his head and you’re patting the empty spot next to you. “Get over here.”

“I dunno…the way you two look at each other gives off more than just friends.” Angel cautiously makes his way over, while you toss your legs right over his lap, leaving him to caress your bare ankle.

Arman shakes his head as he meets Angel’s eyes, “you’ve never loved a best friend so much that you’ll do anything for?”

“Well yeah…” Angel starts with a lift of his shoulders, “but I never had stars in my eyes when I looked at coco’s crazy ass. And he wouldn’t be walking up in my house like he owns the place. I’ll tell you that much. Actually—he’d probably find a way in here without us knowing.”

You’ve heard stories about Coco��Johnny plenty times before and wished you would have had the chance to meet him. With the way Angel spoke of him and the one’s he once called his brothers, made it seem like you already have.

You snort, “might as well have stars with how much you speak on him and Ezekiel.”

Angel blows out a breath at how much he missed those guys through it all, “I guess I get it too. But i do have to say, if this turns out to be more harm than good to us…you may see a side of me you don’t like and that can get ugly.”

That was aimed more at Arman than you, you were sure but as good as you knew the man to your left, he didn’t take threats lightly yet he could respect it since you chose Angel.

“Well at least you’re honest about your lack of looks…but we can both agree every side is my good side.” Arman jokes as he pinches his chin, caressing his facial hair with a grin.

Angel huffs, “get a load of this fucken guy! First you waltz in here and now this? You’re something else, man. But I guess…you’re alright for now.”

Arman leans over you as Angel goes to give him a fist while Arman was ready to give his hand a shake. Angel stares at Arman’s hand, not budging before Arman huffs and decides to bump fists instead with a shake of his head in disbelief.

“Yay, my bestie and my boyfriend getting along!”You grip Arman’s shoulder to place a kiss on his cheek before flopping your body against Angel who squeezes your shoulder, kissing the corner of your eye as you say “Love to see it…maybe spring break won’t be so bad after all.”

Arman and Angel both share a knowing glance, being aware that this probably wouldn’t be some simple visit of a friend coming to town—although you were no stranger to Arman’s lifestyle—but for both of their sakes they’ll relish in your happiness.

That’s mainly what both men wanted for you.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

Continue along with my spring anthology prompts here.

#queued #the cleaning lady #the cleaning lady season 3 #the cleaning lady fox #arman morales #Arman morales x reader #adan canto #mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #Angel Reyes #angel reyes x reader #spring prompts #clayton cardenas

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share-the-damn-bed · 11 months

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First off, you have to excuse my English because I’ll say it’s good but not great yet, but I have learned a ton from constantly reading English books and blogs. Anyway, I found your Tumblr recently and am curious to hear your thoughts on something I realized. Something I haven’t heard talked about is the repeating ties that Jancy’s narrative has to older times (just as Stancy’s narrative does). It’s my unpopular opinion I guess, but as a Stoncy shipper I enjoy both Stancy and Jancy as individual ships—so the fact that each couple have some striking similarities, almost as striking as their differences, kind of makes sense in my mind. But anyway, back to my point. Jancy’s first kiss is set to the sound of Billie Holiday. Their season three plot with Driscoll puts them in an understated, vintage color palette and soundtrack, especially compared to other character’s aesthetics in the third season (bright colors, modern new mall, modern music and Madonna, advanced Russian technology and facilities, and so on). Nancy in the fourth season is pretty heavily tied to the Creels and she is the only character that watches the events unfold of Henry’s childhood in the 1950s Creel house. Jonathan’s clothes also feel like very old, though that also could be hinting at the financial loss of the Byers family. Maybe I am reading too much into it, but overall I do associate Jancy with a different time period, and to me they feel completely disconnected from almost every aspect of the modern Hawkins, like instead they should be off in their own little world and time. All that being said, I find it so interesting that instead, the writers chose to draw Stancy to the past instead, as in the Light Bright room scene, where Nancy reads her diary entry of Steve and realizes they are stuck in old times. Obviously I understand what that was going for, that Nancy has history with Steve and he represents her past self or her roots maybe. But that makes the big question for me (because in my mind I truly am not sure that either couple will be endgame)…could the vintage motifs in Jonathan and Nancy’s love story be hinting at a similar fate to their relationship as Stancy’s probable ending. Is it that the writers think Jonathan, as well as Steve, are holding onto a past version of Nancy and therefore neither boy can be her future in the end? Hell, I am so confused! I think it’s all so interesting though. Anyway, sorry for the long message, but I love your thoughts on Jancy and wondered if you picked up on any of this or if I’m crazy!

Hi Anon! Thanks for the ask, you have some very interesting ideas and points here that I haven’t really considered before. I also appreciate that your thoughts come from an unbiased place as a jancy/stancy/stoncy supporter. That gives you such a unique perspective!

(Also, your English is amazing, truly. And even if it wasn’t as amazing as it is, the fact that you are able communicate in a language you’re not totally comfortable with is amazing!! Take it from me, an American, whose educational system and culture basically deter learning a non-English language so much so that they intentionally “teach” languages way past the known developmentally appropriate time so that students don’t truly learn and retain the language... sorry. Mini rant.)

I guess the major difference when comparing Stancy to Jancy and their connection to the past is that when it happens with Stancy, it is always done so in direct regard to their relationship: we have the Tom cruise poster that Nancy says is “old” which is a direct reference to Steve in season 1 (says Carol thinks he looks like him and calls Tom Cruise Nancy’s “loverboy”) and season 2 (Halloween costumes), we have the diary entry in the Upside Down (UD) that follows with a Stancy flashback that I think is there to show that not only is the UD stuck in the past, but stuck on the night Will disappeared, specifically. We also see Vecna bringing up Nancy and Steve’s first time having sex to taunt Nancy about Barb’s death and place blame on Nancy.

I think so much of the Stancy scenes in ST4 and all the Stancy scenes throughout the show that reference their past allude to one thing: Barb. I will forever be angry that Nancy’s Vecna moment finally facing Barb’s death and the weight of that guilt got completely overshadowed by Vecna’s big reveal in ST4 only to never be referenced again. And, I think so much of Nancy’s guilt is intertwined with Steve and there’s so much unresolved there.

I made a post during the break between ST4 vol. 1 and 2 detailing how the current season threw in so many references to the night Steve and Nancy broke up, where she called him “bullshit” and blamed Barb’s death on them. I also talked about how their relationship (platonic, romantic, or otherwise) is stuck on that night, where they’re not able to move past that until they pick up that bathroom conversation which, I believe, will ultimately help Nancy move on from the weight of Barb’s death. That’s honestly why I think Stancy has returned for Nancy’s character arc. I think Steve letting Nancy go or realizing he doesn’t need a romantic partner is his arc. But I am biased and I’ll freely admit that.

So Stancy’s ties to the past are directly linked to their romantic relationship (and usually those early days of that relationship). Jancy, on the other hand, do have these historical allusions but this history is not associated with their actual relationship at all. I think the only time Jancy really refer to their own past is when they discuss “what happened” to them between ST1 & ST2 at the motel and when Jonathan references Murray at the end of ST3.

I believe in season 2 the choice to have jazz music at Murray’s play was to promote their scenes as their romantic. In the will-they-won’t-they prelude to their first kiss, the lyrics playing aptly describe the situation: “I want you so now / You have the lips I love to touch / You'd better go now, you'd better go / Because I like you much, too much.”

In season 3, the music choice at Mrs. Driscoll’s may be related to her age or they could be playing up the old-timey reporter duo trope from, like, the 1940s. It is interesting too that other old-timey music (i.e. We’ll Meet Again – Vera Lynn) was used in ST3 without connection to Jancy/Mrs. Driscoll. I genuinely don’t know what that means, but,since the music was in reference to supernatural occurrences (flayed victims/Meat flayer) it could be a reference to Henry/001/Vecna since that would be the era of music he is familiar with, just like how “Dream a Little Dream of Me” was used to announce his presence in Max’s happy memory in ST4. (That would be super cool if that was the case!)

In terms of clothing and Jancy, the costume department and creative teams have always been very explicit that clothing choices for the Byers are made with their financial situation in mind. It’s been years, but there have been interviews and articles that mention that Jonathan’s wardrobe in season 1 is “older” due to probably being bought second-hand or trying to make the clothes last longer. We even see in ST1 that one of his sweaters (his beautiful cream one <3) has moth holes in the collar. We also see Joyce wearing Jonathan’s old shirts, Jonathan wearing multiple clothing staples across seasons, and costuming discussed how the boy’s Ghostbusters’ outfits in ST2 are all different depending on what each family was able to afford (Mike’s family was able to buy the newest, best costume from the store while Joyce was shown hand making pieces of the costume for Will throughout the first two episodes).

Additionally, while promoting ST3 costuming mentioned that Nancy’s (and by the transitive property, Jonathan’s) outifts were inspired by her boyfriend’s New Wave tastes (brighter colors, sharper patterns and lines, iirc) So, I think their outfits are not exactly supposed to make us conjure up images of previous decades.

Because of how different the concept of “the past” is used for Stancy (directly tied to their relationships’ past) and Jancy (vintage motifs that could very much be unrelated to their relationship), I don’t think the situations are comparable. You mention that both boys may be “holding onto a past version of Nancy and therefore neither boy can be her future” but I think the narrative has only suggested that for Steve, and only partially.

I would argue that Steve’s not even holding onto a past version of Nancy, I think he is romanticizing their relationship with an idealistic (not an accurate) version of Nancy at the center. When Steve mentions his dream of Nancy being his wife and mother to their six nuggets, this doesn’t sound like future Nancy but it also doesn’t sound like the Nancy he previously dated. This is why I think Steve’s arc will involve letting Nancy go/finally getting closure on their relationship and seeing it for what it was.

Jonathan, alternatively, recognizes Nancy’s ambition, sees her for who she is, and is very much supportive of Nancy’s future and the future she wants for herself; so much so that he deeply fears holding her back and is willing to let her go so she can succeed (when what he should actually do is talk to her. I don’t want to romanticize his approach: it’s bad and it’s actively hurting Nancy, but I do think one can sympathize with his actions while agreeing there’s a better approach).

You also mention that “[Jancy] feel[s] completely disconnected from almost every aspect of the modern Hawkins, like instead they should be off in their own little world and time” and I completely agree. It’s like when they’re interacting on screen together, they’re the only two present. Part of that is because when they speak with one another it's always in this quiet, intentional way. Idk what else to add, this is just actually one of my favorite things about them.

Thank you so much for the ask, Anon! This was a lot of fun and forced me to consider things in ways I haven’t thought about before. Also, a huge thank you to @p-zombiee for talking this through with me (as it is super confusing and I kept getting lost in it myself!)

#jancy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #anti stancy #jic

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ilikethequiet · 1 year

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This Ain’t Hallmark (A Drakgo Fic)

Title: This Ain’t Hallmark Summary: A Christmas fic with your fave villains, they’re watching movies and being dorks Rating: PG Author’s Note: I have been working on this for the last month and finally I think it’s done. Did I watch a lot of Hallmark movies to help write this? You bet! It’s a bit of holiday fluff, I hope you enjoy 😁

I checked it through with Grammarly, so it sounds okay, tell me if it doesn’t 😘 Feedback/likes are so appreciated. Will also be posted to AO3.

When Shego was little, one of her fondest memories was watching Hallmark movies with her mother while they decorated the Christmas tree. The way the couples in those movies came together against the backdrop of the holiday season always felt magical but when her mother passed, her heart wasn’t in it anymore; the happy girl she used to be had been replaced with the sarcastic supervillain she was now. She loved her current lifestyle, but Shego found herself feeling nostalgic and decided that a movie marathon was in order.

Shego was in the lounge, making garlands for the small tree that she had acquired during the holiday rush when Drakken appeared, grumpy and dishevelled. The scientist had been working on his new super laser, determined to get it ready for New Year’s, he wearily walked over to the fridge and took out the carton of eggnog, drinking from it.

“Doc, you’ve got to go easy on that stuff, it’s a lot stronger than normal milk.” Shego was supposed to have the lair by herself but at the last moment, Mrs Lipsky had decided to go on a singles cruise leaving her son without holiday plans.

“I’ll be fine, Shego.” He focused his eyes and looked upon his sidekick, she was sitting in the lounge watching television with a bunch of Christmas decorations around her, a cosy sight indeed. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“No, stay. You look like you need a break.” Shego knew she would regret extending the offer, but it was clear he needed to be away from his work for a while. “Sit, relax. It’s Christmas.”

Drakken gave her a nod in appreciation; Shego could be sweet when she wanted to be, not that it would work in someone’s favour to acknowledge it. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch and tried to get into the spirit. “Can we watch Snowman Hank?”

“We’re watching this.” She said firmly, Shego didn’t understand how someone so evil could be obsessed with a cartoon snowman, it defied logic but then again, Drakken was always doing that.

He decided instead to sit back and watch the movie, Shego seemed engrossed in it but after half an hour, Drakken became easily bored.

“You know, I always thought spinning tops of doom was the way to go, I never considered psychological torture.” Everyone was happy, there was very little conflict and romance was in the air; sounded downright unbearable.

“It is not that bad.” Was it a little corny? Sure, but it had cosy feel-good vibes and she wasn’t completely heartless; sometimes some light, fluffy romance was needed.

“These two have no chemistry.” Drakken gestured to the couple on the screen, the actors might have well just met that afternoon with how clinical they were being towards each other.

Shego raised an eyebrow. “And you know that from the hundreds of women you’ve been with?” A ladies’ man he was not, hell his fling with DNAmy lasted less than a week and she dumped him because she was in love with Monkey Fist of all people.

Drakken shrugged. “I’m a scientist Shego, I know about this sort of thing. There needs to be a spark.”

“You mean like that time your lab caught on fire?” She remembered the chaos of that day, they had to call the fire department for help because the henchmen refused to go in and retrieve Drakken’s equipment.

“Nnngh, must you bring that up?” It was an accident but on reflection, that analogy did work in relation to their current conversation. “They have no fire, no passion.”

Drakken had passion, his desire to take over the world was great even though it got him into trouble nine times out of ten. The tenth time? That was when his plans almost worked, Shego lived for those times.

The couple on the tv finally stopped tiptoeing around each other and started kissing and Shego rolled her eyes, the movie no longer doing it for her. “Okay, I think we’ve had enough of that.” She started flicking through the channels, looking for the one that had Snowman Hank.

She changed the channel quickly, leaving Drakken to wonder what had happened. He frowned. “Did I ruin it for you? Sometimes I just talk Shego, you know that.” A lot of the time she didn’t listen, he wondered why she had in this instance.

Shego shrugged. “It’s fine, you were right, they had no chemistry.” Or they did and Shego just couldn’t recognise was a healthy relationship was these days, it wasn’t like she had experienced one in a while; men were afraid of her ability and her sarcastic nature didn’t exactly endear her to people.

Drakken smiled. “You agree with me? Truly a Christmas miracle.”

The smugness that was radiating off him was too much to bear, Shego raised her hand and ignited it. “Don’t make me hurt you.” She had threatened him with violence before; almost daily at this point, but something was different; there was mischief in his eyes, and damn if it wasn’t attractive.

“I’ll take my chances.” The brandy in the eggnog he had been drinking had made him brave, usually, he’d be halfway down the street afraid of getting second-degree burns from her deadly blasts.

His response had been unexpected, and it gave Shego a wicked idea; All this talk of chemistry had made her wonder if there was anything between them, Drakken got on her nerves sure, but he had his moments. She leaned over and kissed him.

Drakken froze, he wanted very much to respond but what if this was another moodulator situation? He didn’t think so, this felt more deliberate; Shego was trying to get a rise out of him, what would happen if he reciprocated?

Chemistry-wise, Shego thought their kiss was mediocre at best, which was a good thing, she did not want to suddenly develop feelings for her boss. She was about to pull away and laugh it off when she felt Drakken nibble on her bottom lip.

Oh. Oh, that was hot.

Shego parted her lips slightly in response giving Drakken silent permission to deepen the kiss, a moan escaping when he did just that. How can he be having such an effect on her? This was Drakken! He was not her type; he was crazy and blue and was he drawing patterns on her waist? Ugh! She needed to focus and stop this nonsense, but she found herself wanting to continue, just to see how far Drakken was willing to take this. There was the slightest pull in his touch encouraging her to move closer and Shego found herself going along with it, moving from her seat onto his lap.

Drakken had experienced a lot of hardships in his life, everything from being a failed scientist to being beaten by a teenage hero and her sidekick on multiple occasions but having the woman whom he had been secretly in love with for years willingly in his lap, kissing him felt like a win.

Despite herself, Shego was enjoying this. It had been a while since she had been with someone and Drakken seemed enthusiastic to say the least. Shego wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with his hair. She could get used to this kind of activity, even if the other party was Drakken.

“Shego?” Drakken said breathlessly, getting her attention. “Is this going to be one of those things we never talk about?” Early on in their partnership they had agreed there were just some things best left unsaid, these included things childhood trauma, questions about her powers and significant others. He would understand if this fell under that category.

She knew what he was doing, Drakken was offering her a way out without any repercussions, but Shego had other ideas, would it be so bad if this happened more often? She smiled, giving him another light kiss. “Where is the fun in that?”

“So, you’re receptive to this kind of attention from me?” Amazing, Drakken never would have thought it possible.

Well, there were worse things. “If we’re doing this then we need to set some ground rules. Work comes first; I don’t want you getting all lovesick and thinking you need to be a better man to impress me, I’m here for the evil. Next, no nicknames; you call me hunny bun or Pookie and we’re gonna have a problem.”

Drakken snickered, the very idea that Shego could be anyone’s Pookie was laughable; she just wasn’t that sort of person. “Anything else? “

“Don’t think I’m going to suddenly go easy on you.” He could do the stupidest things sometimes and he needed to be called out on them.

Drakken was glad for that, he loved Shego for her abrasiveness and sass; her objections made him strive to be better, the road to world domination was not an easy one and Shego kept him focused. “I can agree to those terms.”

“Well okay then.” Shego smiled, this new element to their relationship had potential.

“Should we go out and commit some crime to celebrate?” Earlier in the evening, Drakken was content to wallow in his loneliness but now he had the desire to go out and have some fun.

“I thought you wanted to watch Snowman Hank?” Shego asked, he had seemed so insistent on it earlier.

Drakken smiled and gently lifted Shego off his lap “I’m not sure he would approve of these kinds of shenanigans.” Snowman Hank was all about goodwill to your fellow man, but he had other more devious things in mind.

Hey if they were going to do something his cartoon idol disapproved of, Shego was all for it. She hopped up and smoothed her bodysuit, the action making Drakken raise an eyebrow.

Shego’s skin flushed when she noticed him looking at her; this next phase of their partnership was going to be interesting. “Come on, let’s go deck some halls.” She bounded out of the room and downstairs to the hovercar hangar.

Drakken shook his head, following her, this Christmas was turning out to be a Merry Christmas indeed.

#drakgo #drakken x shego #otp: drakgo #fic #shego #drakken #fic: this ain't hallmark

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merryfortune · 1 year

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incomplete list of all the fun i had in japan on my holiday

the bus trip from narita airport to shinjuku, the scenery was so gorgeous, i got to see my first cherry blossoms and first part of the city

sorakara-chan the mascot at the skytower, they also have nice lemonade there, and it was fun to walk on the floor windows too

the shogun's gardens are so cool you can hear the martial artists train - the imperial s garden was very nice as well, the azelias were in full bloom

karaoke with three of the others on the tour with me was tonnes of fun as well

also at karaoke i was the only one who could speak Japanese so I was ordering drinks for the other girls and had A VERY INTENSE “conversation” with the older waiter who spoke no English so it was very unintentionally funny experience to try and convey that i wanted two bottles (nipikki) of sake but I said nisai instead (so 2 years). also the Spanish-Irish chica said the sake that they/we ordered (I was soft drinks only) was the best she ever had

i loved having chanko for lunch and the similar ones as well (though the himeji oden set wasn't my favourite...)

asakusa shrine was so busy but i liked the balancing of the shinto and buddist faiths

meiji shrine was beautiful, the trees there are gorgeous and heartfelt, we also saw a wedding procession!!! the bride and groom looked stunning in their traditional ware

the cruise night was good too

IKEBUKURO MY BELOVED. the area was nerd heaven. i saw fellow yumejoshi god bless, bought a giant smoliv plush at the pokemon centre, and stuff like that yeah

the inari shrine/thousand torii gate shrine is definitely on my come back to list since there wasn't enough time to do the full summit

shoutout to the hotel we stayed at in mishima city, easily my favourite hotel, them soft beds went a long way, not to mention we could see mt fuji at breakfast

(for me personally that hotel was even outclassing the five star hotel we stayed at which is a highlight and also was home to foreign dignitaries and celebrities :o

mt fuji. just. mt fuji in general. absolutely gorgeous, breathtaking, stunning, thank god we did not climb it as i was coming down with a cold the day we were meant to but mt fuji meanwhile was coming down with an avalanche risk so only looking for afar

oshina hokkai is gorgeous, i would love to come back there at peak with more time to wander

i also loved the little historical village, i can't remember its name rn but i loved seeing the different girls day and children's day displays, the tanuki statues and the scarecrows, the rubber duckies in the various streams, too

the various tanuki statues i saw all over the place deserve their own bullet point tbh

making soba was fun but i didn’t actually enjoy eating the soba, i wanted to try yakisoba though

i'm kinda blanking at this 3/4 mark because all i really remember is the bullet train journeys which are cool i guess but i'm not a train nerd like my dad lol, it just felt like taking a normal train to me

the osaka okonomiyaki lunch was my favourite lunch, probably

i loved the kyoto hotel we had dinner at too, they gave me extra on desserts. and also bread. carbs yippie

ooh the italian cafe we had lunch at in shibuya was also really good actually so i'll mention it here too

kiyomizu shrine was my Absolute Favourite Highlight, it was gorgeous and had so much history behind it, the shops are good too, i hope to visit it again one day, would especially love to visit in autumn/maple leaf season. also I got to drink from the fountains of long life, beauty, and wisdom which is really significant because normally that's impossible to do due to queues/demands. and also all the buddha with their bibs is adorable.

also at kiyomizu, one of my fellow tour goers did something so unintentionally hilarious, i want to add it. this guy was very cautious, always masked up and sanitising so we were all very surprised to go watch him fill up a ladle at the fountain... only for him to immediately dump it into the basin below instead of drinking it like I and a couple others did

miyajima island is amazing!! i definitely want to go back there in autumn one day. i had momiji manju with custard filling and it was so delicious. i visted the art museum there and the attendant on the second level gave me an Exclusive Special Experience™️ because I managed to convey that whilst I couldn't speak Japanese on account of my sore throat, i can understand it so they gave me a big art spiel and then turned off the lights so i could see this one silk screen literally glow in the dark like the moon

the himeji gardens were my favourite set of gardens!! i saw a cat and lots of pretty ponds

threw coins in okiku well at the himeji castle (well's haunted) and the architecture of himeji whilst a nightmare for a flat footer like me is awful but its still very beautiful i'm probably missing some stuff but i've had a big, big week and a bit in japan

#merry muses #merry on holidays

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smokeybrandreviews · 1 year

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Steady As She Goes

We’ve entered the lean times for Azur Lane updates. It’s Lunar New Year and, being a Chinese game, the staff is off for the holiday. That means content has been fee and far in-between. That hasn’t stopped Manjuu and Yostar from dropping a pretty solid event to commemorate the season. Now, i generally don’t go for these particular events because they are very much Chinese focused and i don’t have any attachment to my Dragon Empery dock so these last few weeks have been basically me cleaning house, shoring up other docks, and focusing on the grind. That said, i have made strides in a bunch of different aspect of my game so this is kind of just an update post.

The Happy Lunar New Year event was whatever. I mean, i participated with everything so, you know, i unlocked the majority of Accumulation ships that were available. I made a run at the banner and unlocked both Super Rare offerings pretty early. Like, immediately. On my first roll. Theseus was kind of a bonus, i wasn’t really trying to get her, but having Kuybyshev tumble right after was everything. A few days later, on routine roll for my Dailys, i popped Hwah Jah but, like, who cares? I’ve decided to focus on my Northern Parliament dock now that i am all caught up with the Iron Blood so the only ship i actually needed was Kuybyshev. My darling Deutsche always take priority but, since i only have to focus on new KMS events, (I'll get to that full update in a minute) i opted for the Ruskies as the next focus. After the Krauts, their aesthetic is my favorite in the game. I am a sucker for ice and dragons so that entire Fleet is right up my alley. Plus, i am lousy with Chkalov Blueprints so it makes sense. I’m actually finished with er construction at this point, all that’s left is the grind for those goddamn Experience points. Everything else has been completed so, once i finish my current Iron Blood grind, I'll let those Russian boats have some time in the waters.

Speaking of Iron Blood, I've come A LONG way since last i checked in. All of my SR ships are max level, in every way, with the exception of those subs. However, with the advent of the new Seasonal Cruise, i was able to max two of them to 125! Subs are a b*tch to accumulate Experience with so the fact that i have all of them topped off for the immediate level up once i get enough Cognitive Chips to do so, is a miracle. My hard, arduous, work has given me the opportunity to add U-47 and U-96 to the ranks of my 125 battalion. On top of that, the Cruise has made a massive dent in my pursuit of Rainbow Priority V Blueprints. I already has enough to complete Fried’s newly added Fate Simulation so the focus has been on Aegir this entire time. I am eighty-seven away from maxing out her own Fate Simulation, whenever that sh*t decides to drop. Speaking of Aegir, her new costume, Golden Dragon Among Auspicious Clouds, is f*cking awesome! That sh*t hits all of the notes, beautifully. It also helps that she’s animated in all the right places. Also, Prinz Rupprecht's new duds are adorable, too. The second i saw that The Gate Dragon's Advent cheongsam, i needed. So i got it. That means all my Prinz girls have an Live 2D costume so you know i am all in a tizzy about it!

All in all, the first few weeks of 2023 have been mildly eventful for me on the Azur Lane front. Love the Friedrich update. Love the new costumes for Rupprecht and Aegir. Definitely enjoyed adding a brand new Northern Parliament boat to my dock. I am pleased with my overall progress in terms of KMS development and always love a brand new Seasonal Cruise release. Seriously, it’s been a day and I'm already at fifty-two. Ya by don’t f*ck around with them sh*ts, man. They are too rich in treasure not to. While i don’t give two sh*ts abut the Dragon Empery in any form, i am glad to see they are getting a bit of love. I actually have all of the available ships for ROCN and didn’t actually know it. Like, I'm missing Harbin and that’s it. F*cking ridiculous, man. I’m an accidental completionist over here. Still, it’s been a productive few weeks since i last checked in and i am okay with that. Hopefully, we won’t have a KMS or SN event for a few months. I need to stockpile my Cubes and Finishers again. That eighty build mission hurt the pockets, man.

#Azur Lane #Dragon Empery #Northern Parliament #Happy Lunar New Year 2023

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lovemesomesurveys · 2 years

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Think of the last dream you had. What was it about? I don’t remember. I rarely remember my dreams. What stresses you out? Currently, my health is my biggest stressor. What's one song that you can listen to that can make you fall asleep? There isn’t a song, but ASMR can help. Do you tend to trip over air often? I tend to bump into things or hit my hand or elbow on something. Have you ever gone on a cruise? No.

Have you ever watched the sunrise? Yes. What about the sunset? Yes. Name a band that you think is beyond overrated: *shrug* When was the last time it snowed in your area? It doesn’t snow here. Summer or Winter? Why? Winter, hands down. I don’t do well with the heat and it gets miserably hot here. Our summers also feel like they go on forever. We’re in mid October and it’s still been in the 90s. Spring or Autumn? Why? Autumn. I love the weather, the holidays, the smells, the colors, and just the coziness. What season were you born in? Ugh, in the summer. Do you like to play in the rain? No. I love when it rains, though. Do you think that by doing so, you may catch a cold? It’s possible. Who is the last person you said goodbye to? My brother yesterday when he went to work. What are you currently sitting on right now? My bed. Are you listening to music? No. Is there anyone you know who always looks like a smug bastard? No. Who can you not live without? My mom. What's your favorite instrument? The piano and guitar. Do you have anything planned for your next birthday? My birthday isn’t until July, I have plenty of time to figure something out. I do hope to do something fun since this year I had to spend it in the hospital. How tall are you? About 5′4. Do you wish to be any taller or shorter? I wish I was taller. Have you ever submitted anything to Fmylife.com? No. Are you currently working on finishing a book? No. Do you have a blog? If so, care to leave a link to it? You’re lookin’ at it. Is your hair naturally curly, straight or in-between? It’s wavy. What's your favorite sea creature? Otters and sea lions are cute. What's your favorite acoustic song? The acoustic version of Everlong by Foo Fighters. Do you know anyone that's pregnant? Yes. Top bunk or bottom bunk? Bottom cause I wouldn’t be able to get up and down on my own. What's your favorite Pok�mon? Jigglypuff. What's your favorite font? Verdana and Tahoma. What happens when a sword that can pierce anything tries to pierce a shield that cannot be pierced? Nothing?

What's your favorite riddle? Why is a raven like a writing desk? Do you use the dish washer or prefer washing dishes by hand? We rinse them off before putting them in the dishwasher. Have you ever been inside a castle? No. Do you know anyone who backwashes? DD: Everyone does. I don’t share drinks with anyone, so it’s not an issue for me. What do you think happens after we pass? I believe in heaven and hell. ^ Is it different from what you'd like to happen? No. How do you feel about people self-diagnosing themselves with disorders? I mean, you can research a disorder and identify with one, but you should see a doctor to be sure. You could end up thinking you have something that you don’t and possibly do something harmful or misdiagnose and have something go left untreated. It can be helpful for you to research beforehand, though, so you can take your information to your doctor and think about what questions you may have. Also helpful to know what symptoms you may be experiencing. Tell me a random fact. Around 430 this morning I ate a Reese’s. lol. Name one unusual habit that you have. I break apart my food when eating. Like, if I’m eating pizza I tear pieces off to eat instead of just biting it. Did today treat you well? It’s only 6:11AM, but I’ve been up since like 4 so that sucks. Do you enjoy calling out trolls/people who shouldn't be on the interbutts? No. What would you say if I said that I love you? Uh, you don’t even know me. Let's get married either way? No.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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smokeybrand · 1 year

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Steady As She Goes

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lastfrontierh · 1 year

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Everything You Should Know About Heliskiing!

Contact our Travel Designers to start out constructing your bespoke heli-skiing adventure. Or if you’re uncertain, inform us what you might be on the lookout for and problem us to encourage you. When you’re not skiing, delight in more snow-filled activities, from mountaineering and snowmobiling to snow kiting, canine sledding and speed boating in the Norwegian fjords. Craig has over 30 years expertise in the himals and 13 years experience skiing the Annapurna sanctuary. He values security above all else and is open to discussions about choices.

It consists of cover for medical and repatriation prices, journey cancellation and curtailment, plus it may possibly protect any misplaced, stolen, or broken ski tools while in your trip. I'm topic to my failing reminiscence, but IIRC the guides instructed that sensible common days (once you may have factored in all of the down time and so on...) might be ~15,000 feet vertical for heli vs ~10,000 for cat depending on the operation. First BC journey - Snow conditions have been good, but the climate was crap - no solar all week (but no down days, superb what kind of weather they will fly in!). Lodge was in an amazing distant location and very luxurious, but staying somewhere like that is not for me. It was actually costly, in all probability double the price of Alaska.

Tignes offers an enormous number of diversified terrain for skiers and boarders from difficult off-piste powder to leisurely cruising runs. What better method to hold the children entertained during the faculty holidays than activities on the mountain. If Heliskiing isn't your factor, then cat skiing might be your calling. Soho Basin is a personal ski space providing pristine high-country terrain, world class views and gourmet eating in an environment of relaxed and understated luxurious. These great chalets and skiing tips have been offered by Jacqui. For more on these skiing experiences, contact her and the Touch of Spice staff right here.

Take to the skies and experience the magic of this space for yourself alongside your friends and family. Find dynamic terrain in and round Minaret Alpine Station and lodge to suite any intermediate or skilled skiers and boarders, with pristine snow overlaying Heliskiing broad open bowls, pure half-pipes and chutes. Beautiful long runs will maximize your ski time and guides are there to direct you on to the best snow in the area.

The ski season is simply kicking off in New Zealand, one of many world’s premier snowsports locations. Read on for the most effective insider suggestions from our consultants at Majordomo and Touch of Spice. You don't need to book a complete week with a specialist tour operator not figuring out what the weather Heliskiing or snow conditions might be. You can merely make a day journey with a helicopter, Accompanied by an skilled mountain information, who will lead you thru Glaciers and Canyons for an unforgettable experience. There are numerous ski runs of varied levels of difficulty and lengths.

You don’t want to miss out on a day in the helicopter due to harm or a sore again. Being in good bodily health is paramount to essentially having fun with this trip and getting probably the most out of the expertise. On site scorching tubs and massages turn out to be an essential part of your aprés ski as opposed to beer and shots! If you're an off piste skiing enthusiast, enjoy heliskiing with esf Samoëns to discover unexplored places, on skis or snowboard. You can explore the hidden parts of the Aosta Valley, the Swiss Valais...

This is a particularly ‘useful’ drop as you can ski instantly again down to Täsch, just under Zermatt, and still have a good lunch on the Tascherhof Hotel. With the founding of AirZermatt in 1968, principally as an air ambulance and mountain rescue service, the possibilities for more leisure-orientated use of their gear turned apparent. UK-based ski mag with the best images and most knowledgeable Heliskiing but wittiest ski information within the English language. Departing from your local resort and adventuring additional afield to surrounding glaciers, resorts and national parks. The second selection is to ski directly from the highest of the”Glacier des Follats” then onto the “Glacier de Corbasssières”. At the tip of the glacier, you'll have a brief stroll before skiing right down to the lovely small village of Fionnay.

Whether or not it's off piste with the adults, a correct ski lesson for certainly one of us or taking the kids out for the afternoon you always get high power, great tips and a enjoyable time. Always a smile on his face, nothing is a problem only solutions! The whole household have hade the enjoyment to ski with Maxime from Pist to harsh off pist. Looking ahead to ski with him again within the Easter 2022. Book your freeride ski and snowboard lesson at the best assured price by contacting me.

#heliskiing

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rubykgrant · 2 years

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I’m gonna be part of the RVB Secret Santa this year... but I thought it would be good to acknowledge another holiday, and one particular character who had to put up with lots of christmassy-nonsense for years. So, here is Church celebrating Hanukkah! In my ever expanding story-line, I want him (and also Tex) to finally be able to do real-people-things, and for Church this means he has the chance to learn more about what it means to be Jewish, so he decides to celebrate Hanukkah, and invites his extended family of friends to join him~

The first picture is him sharing the story of the miracle with Carolina and Tex (I imagine that Carolina’s father was indeed Jewish himself, but he never celebrated much or talked about it, so this is also her chance to learn about it as well!) Next are latkes! I like to imagine that Church gets really into cooking, he both enjoys it and is actually GOOD at it. Donut and Wash are telling him he did a good job (also, there is Grif, doing his best to wait for the food to be set down before he lunges for it). Third pictures is Church with the sufganiyot he made, and Doc complimenting him on his baking skills (Grif is still LURKING). Fourth picture is more food, this time some delicious cheeses, and Grif isn’t waiting anymore! That’s OK, these are snacks meant to be grabbed (Simmons and Church are having a chuckle over it, because Grif really has been very patient). Five is dancing! As we all know, Sarge seems like a tough guy but he actually LOVES music/dancing, and Kai would definitely have fun with this (also, Lopez is there, because he’s having fun too... but he’s a robot, and I can’t draw that armor to save my life, so... he’s just a hand. I promise, everybody loves and cherishes his company, I just can’t draw the armor). The sixth picture is gelt! Tucker scarfed his down right away because CHOCOLATE GOOD, but Caboose is mesmerized by the beauty of the shiny coins (he’s gonna wind up not even unwrapping them and saving them forever). Picture seven features dreidel making- all the AI Fragments had fun making little hologram dreidels, but you KNOW Theta would go all-out (he always like making fireworks, so I think he would really enjoy this too!). Finally, the eighth and final picture, where Church gets some gifts. Sure, that doesn’t always have to be part of the holiday, but everybody wanted to make sure he knew they care (he might not like to admit he wants something, but Church also thrives on affection, so he really appreciates it)

Donut and Doc got him gifts that go together, a fancy shaving kit and special shampoo/body-wash. Grif and Simmons got him a ton of books (and some comics) they both enjoy and knew he’d be into. Tucker got him some new copies of classic games, and Caboose got him a new blanket (it is a big blue comforter, the same color as Caboose’s armor~). Wash got him a fancy checkers set they can play together. Sarge got him not one, but TWO pairs of boots. Kai got him several new music albums (because “All you listen to is old-people music!”). Lopez got him a big collection of spices and seasonings for cooking. Carolina went to a crafting place, created a hand-made frame, and put a picture of everybody in a group in it for him. Tex got him, and herself, two tickets- they’re gonna go on their own little vacation together! They deserve cruise... oh but who haven’t we seen in this group? Locus was absolutely around, but he still has the bad habit of staying invisible... however, Church has discovered that he has a gift from Locus as well; a sweater Locus knit himself~

I hope everybody enjoys the happy Hanukkah Church pictures! I can only work with MS Paint and a mouse, but I added some extra effects to make them look all soft, warm and fuzzy. I want to say thanks to @didyoumeanxianity , who gave me some advice and encouragement~

#my art #red vs blue #hanukkah #jewish #leonard church

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caravelmp3 · 3 years

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FEAR AND LOATHING IN DOMESTICATION

pairing: josh kiszka x reader warning(s): mentions of alcohol, references to sex, depression, & anxiety synopsis: in better terms, josh kiszka is a rolling stone, and when the pandemic causes the band to settle down for an undisclosed amount of time, reader helps josh come out of his slump note: title & reference to that one interview. you know the one. as someone with a fear of domestication as well, i related so hard to josh when he talked about settling down, and this came out of that. it’s just a lil something !! also posted on ao3 if you would like to check it out there instead. hope you all enjoy !! x

Josh was a vagabond, a nomad, living a peripatetic lifestyle of hopping from city to city overnight by bus or jet, bouncing between venues and interviews as if he was born to do so. Staying in three-star motel rooms in the middle of nowhere became a part of his lifestyle, one that he became quite adjusted to after three years on the go. Even while visiting home he was between family and friend houses, checking in on old stomping grounds, visiting studios hours away, anything to stay busy. In the clearest sense of terms, he was a rolling stone.

So, as everyone imagined it would happen, he began to lose his sense of self in 2020. One second the band were planning the release of an album, preparing to hit the road and play stadiums in South America with Metallica in the spring, and then the next they were hit with the news of cancellations and push-backs to everything they had been working towards. With the rise of a pandemic they were forced into a hiatus and into the first real break any of them had received, if they didn’t count the few days visiting home last holiday season.

He and the rest of the band hunkered down in Nashville and Josh started to live in his worst fear - domesticity. He was waking up at the same time every day in the same city, he was living the same life day after day, and it became old very quickly. While catching up on rest and exploring a new city was fun at first, it started to look like every other city before long. The adventure he would wake up to with excitement was no longer around. He had been forced to settle down, and he felt like a trapped animal trying to gnaw its own leg off.

And like the rest of the band and the management team, you hated seeing him that way.

The relationship between you and Josh was short, but you knew Josh for years, and you noticed the differences in his personality immediately once you followed him to Nashville following the shut down of your own job.

You once swung by the studio with a surprise lunch for the boys and the team and he was struggling to write lyrics on a notepad in the other room, surrounded by crumpled and balled sheets of paper. He would stay up later at night scrolling through airline websites for flights out of Nashville to random cities (as long as he was traveling, he told himself), and he shifted through hobbies to find anything that stuck (which eventually was reading and painting) (there was a corner of the living room filled with stacks of books and canvas paintings).

And you tried your best, even when times were hard on you, too. In order to boost Josh’s spirits and get his mind off the persistent idea that he was stuck in time, you attempted baking new treats and made him try them after dinner, you dabbled in bartending and made new drinks with tequila, set up painting dates in the backyard after work, bought books from second-hand stores you thought he would enjoy, and bought new and random vinyl for the nights spent in during summer storms.

But the bright blue, cloudless summer skies and warm breezes rustling the trees of summer became the red of maples and the bronze of oaks of autumn. Everyone hoped things would be different, maybe even just slightly, but nothing had changed at all. The band was still in Nashville, making the best of their time off to expand the album and the universe it was set in, and you were back to working, but only remotely, so Josh insisted you stayed with them instead of traveling back home at seemingly the height of the worst so far.

When the long, hot days turned into cooler mornings and long nights with the sun setting at five p.m., the effect of the year had finally hit everyone. Everyone was tired, they felt defeated.

So in one last desperate attempt to boost spirits and morale, everyone set off on their own adventure and escaped Nashville in the early days of December. Danny was going to Los Angeles, Sam was going skiing in Montana, and you knew that Josh and Jake needed their own trip. So after a few phone calls and exchanged emails over a week, you booked a trip for the twins and their family in Key West. It was something small - a rented RV for the dreaded sixteen-hour drive south, but what awaited them was a week in a rented beach house and days on a boat in the Gulf.

You booked it for everyone, you wanted the boys and their family to let loose and spend some time together before work drove them away again, but you weren’t going to lie and say you didn’t book it with Josh in mind. He was a fan of the beach and islands, history, and the water and sun and sand, and after months hunched over a studio coffee table writing and working endlessly on the album design, he deserved time to himself, to recover, to recoup.

You told him before bed on Thanksgiving day. The Kiszka family had come down from Michigan to celebrate the holiday, and they did with dinner and a fire in the pit in the backyard with music and plaid blankets and smores under the stars. After staying up talking to his mom, Josh had come to bed last with the lingering scent of fire smoke in his hair and Corona on his breath, and he met you under the covers, nestling his face in the crook of your neck before pressing a soft kiss against your skin while wishing you goodnight.

Humming, you rolled over and rolled into him. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around you, and that’s when you, in a sleep-deprived state, began to rattle off all of your plans,

“Tell your parents to stay for another week.” You said, eyes still closed, half-asleep.

Josh paused. “Why?” It wasn’t something he was opposed to, but it caught him by surprise.

“I booked a trip for the rest of us. While Danny and Sam are gone.” You laid your head on his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest. “We leave for Key West in four days.”

And the shot of adrenaline that ran through Josh was something he hadn’t felt in quite a long time. The last time he got excited about going anywhere was to a new record shop that opened up a few streets over from the house. He quickly sat up in the bed, looking down at you (now laying sideways) in the dark with a smile.

“You’re fucking joking,”

You laughed and reached out for his hand. “Not at all,” you said bringing his hand up to kiss the palm, “I’m going to pick up an RV in a couple of days, and we can surprise your parents and take them shopping for clothes and everything else we need.”

Out of what seemed like a rush of euphoria, Josh threw himself on top of you, peppering your face with kisses and you laughed at the show of affection and at the tickle of the growing mustache he managed to grow (and pull off). You turned your head, holding his cheeks, and kissed him.

“Now, come on, let’s get some sleep.”

“Well that’s unlikely - now I’m going to lay here and think about all the dumb shit we can do.” He said, sliding under the covers and sliding an arm around you.

You just laughed and nestled your cheek against his chest, listening in to the quiet shuffling in the hallway outside the door of everyone going to bed, to the ticking sound of the clock on the wall, and then to Josh’s voice,

“Do you think they have pirate themed dinner cruises?”

“If they do, I’m sure you’ll find out about it.”

And he did.

(There wasn’t one.)

But you found so much more than you two ever dreamed of. Trading dreary Nashville for a bright and warm island, you welcomed the hot breeze and sun-kissed skin.

And even though there wasn’t a pirate themed dinner cruise, you watched Josh come alive in a new environment. You strolled hand-in-hand with him through the butterfly and nature conservatory, letting him rave about the multicolored birds and point at flowers he thought you would like while capturing them on film. On Duval Street he pulled you to get caricature portraits done, he ordered shots for everyone in the bar after a night spent swimming. He roamed Dry Tortugas National Park with Jake, admiring the view and history within the brick fort walls, and first thing one morning he pulled you out of bed to get breakfast and visit the Ernest Hemingway Home, so you sat with him on a bench in the morning light and drank coffee and pet the roaming cats that passed by.

The last night on the island you woke up naked without Josh beside you, and you turned to see him sitting on the balcony with the white sheer curtains billowing around him, writing in the journal he always kept on his person. A smile tugged on the corners of your lips.

Josh was falling in love with life again.

And you were falling in love with life again, too, because Josh was so passionate about living it.

#josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka one shot #josh kiszka drabble #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet one shot #gvf imagine #gvf drabble #josh kiszka

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thiswasinevitableid · 2 years

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For the prompts, could you do 45 with Indruck? Thanks!

Here you go! This is SFW in that there's no sex involved, but Duck and Indrid have what's functionally a platonic, non-sexual dom/sub relationship that comes up.

45: your family ditches you for the holiday so i take you home with me, except my family thinks we’re dating now, and i don’t know how to tell them that we’re not Indruck

“I mean, you would have done the same. Father isn’t going to be around forever and I want to spend time with him.” His brother isn’t bothering to hide his disinterest in this conversation or the fact that he’s lying. He absolutely has money to take himself, their father and stepmother, and Indrid on a Christmas cruise.

“I suppose I would have. I simply thought, since it was the first Christmas since I was eighteen that I would be home-”

“You had many chances.”

He grits his teeth, “You’re really leaving me out the one year I try to make peace?”

“Yes.” He hears the smile a moment before the line goes dead.

—----------------------------------------------

Five hours after his brother’s gloating phone call, Indrid is stretched on his belly on a couch with an ice pack on his ass and some mindless, seasonal programming on the T.V. Normally he’d be sleepy and content. Today all the endorphins in the world can’t fully dissipate his gloom.

“Somethin’ wrong?” A glass of eggnog blocks the T.V.

“I spoke with my brother today.”

“Explains why it took the paddle, your collar, a gag, and turning off all the lights just to get you into subspace.” Duck waits for him to take the mug before sitting down by his head and patting his lap.

A benefit, Indrid thinks as he rests his head on grey sweatpants, of a dom who was already his friend is that he doesn’t have to go into detail about his childhood baggage while toy commercials blare in the background.

He and Duck met through a mutual friend two years ago, Indrid enjoying, among other things, his understated charm and the fact his work in the National Forest means he can identify wildlife when Indrid excitedly points it out.

Their dom/sub relationship is a byproduct of one of the most embarrassing incidents of Indrid’s life. He’d been helping Duck clean up after a game night, was grabbing a blanket from the closet to replace the one he spilled tea on earlier. It caught the edge of a basket, which promptly sent a cascade of leather, silk, and silicone onto the floor. As he was trying to put it all back, he joked that he never thought Duck was the type to dominate people.

His friend set the handcuffs he was holding aside and cupped Indrid’s chin.

“Funny, because I could tell you were a sub a mile off.”

The agreement is this: the relationship is not romantic or sexual, since both of them were afraid taking it that direction would jeopardize their friendship. Indrid was out of experience anyway, and Duck was still fresh off the end of a long-term relationship. Cuddling is fine, kissing is not, and Indrid is not to end a session until Duck is damn sure he’s not about to drop.

Duck pets his hair and changes the channel, “You wanna talk about it?”

“I should have seen it coming. Or just surprised them. He knows why I haven’t come home in decades, and he knows just how much I must have built myself up just to make the offer.” He sighs, “I suppose I was already resigned to a blue Christmas with them, but knowing they all would ditch me seems to have torpedoed my ability to enjoy the season in the slightest.”

“No rule that says you gotta have fun around Christmas.”

“It’s not even that. It’s, I love the traditions we’ve made; Barclay’s highly competitive cookie swap, for instance, or Dani teaching us rituals to welcome the Yule-”

“Accidentally exploding a piping bag of jelly filling at Joe’s place…”

Indrid whacks his knee with a smile, “That was a one time occurrence. My point is, Christmas growing up was no better than any other time at my home. I’m far happier with the way things are now. But as much as it pains me to say it, I want, just once, the Christmas they sing about in those icky Johnny Mathis songs. I want to walk in ridiculously decorated neighborhoods and not get overwhelmed, I want sugar cookies that are more frosting than flour, I want mistletoe and falling snow, I want…I want everything I’ve ever seen in the movies.”

Duck is quiet, and then the T.V clicks off.

“I’m, uh, I’m goin’ down to Kepler for the week of Christmas. Do you wanna come?”

Indrid flips on his back so he can blink up at him, “It wouldn’t impede your plans?”

“Nope.”

Reality rushes into his mind, “Duck, I appreciate the offer, but you know I don’t have the easiest times with unfamiliar gatherings or crowds; I’d hate to ruin your fun.”

“It’d just be Jane, Terrance, and the boys. And, uh” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “I thought maybe if we used some of the dom/sub stuff it might help you out. Y’know, could put your collar on if you were anxious about goin’ to do somethin’ you thought’d be fun, promise you rewards, stuff like that. Just, I figure if you have someone else to steer it might be easier to enjoy yourself.”

He thinks about all the times Duck has sat with him, just like this, and how he felt like maybe the world wasn’t such a treacherous place after all. About how sometimes, when he and Duck are texting, Duck will guide him through caring for himself after a rough day without either of them really noticing. About how, when Duck mentioned a few weeks ago that he’d be going home for Christmas, all Indrid could think about was how much he’d miss him.

“When do we leave?”

—-------------------------------------------------------------

When Jane opens the door of Duck’s childhood home, Indrid is struck by how little they resemble each other. Duck commented on it in the past, saying he took after his mom while Jane took after his dad.

“‘Bout time you got here, doofus.” The family resemblance in the cadence of her voice, the early grey in her black hair, the way she opens her arms, is unmistakable.

“Yeah, yeah, good to see you too, goofus.” Duck hugs her tight, steps back and gestures to Indrid, “‘Drid, this is Jane.”

“Thank you for allowing me to, ah, crash the family Christmas.”

“Terrences family once surprised us with two extra branches turning up on Christmas Eve; one extra guy is nothin.’ Besides, I’ve been wanting to meet the fella my big bro keeps bringing up.”

“I see.” Indrid smirks as Duck turns pink, “well, I hope he didn’t set me up to disappoint.”

They bring their bags in, Jane pointing them towards Duck’s childhood room. The rest of the family is out on an errand, so there’s no one to overhear him ask, “What exactly have you been telling her about me?”

“Nothing specific, uh, you and I just see each other a lot, so you come up when I’m talkin’ with her.” Duck pulls his dop kit out of his bag as Indrid studies the pictures on the walls.

“...You were in marching band?”

“Huh? Aw Jesus, when did she put these up?” Duck winces at the group photo.

“I think you look rather charming. You should wear tassels more often.”

A hand runs firmly up his back, “Watch it, sugar.”

In spite of the threat, Indrid’s spine relinquishes the last of its travel stress.

“Your senior portrait is also an inspired decor choice.”

“Fuck” Duck whirls in the direction Indrid tilted his head, but finds a blank wall.

“Got you.”

Duck swats his ass and he laughs.

“Ahem” Jane leans in the door, “hate to interrupt y’all, but I need some more hands if I’m gonna get these presents wrapped before two eight year olds are back to runnin’ from room to room tryin’ to peek at what I got ‘em.”

“Right behind you.” Duck ushers Indrid out of the room and down the stairs.

They chat about work as Duck folds edges and Indrid applies bows, Jane bringing them up to speed on relatives Indrid has only faintly heard of and her work at the community center. By the time the twins arrive with their bedraggled father, all gifts are wrapped and safely stashed out of child range.

When Duck offers to help with dinner, Jane shoos him into the living room to play with Will and Hank (and her husband up to bed to nap so, “you don’t pass out in the fuckin’ crock-pot”). The boys clearly think he’s the fun uncle and compete for his attention. To his credit, Duck is masterful at dividing it as they attempt to build a space armada by the light of the Christmas tree. The kids are excited, bickering now and then but mostly speculating on what their parents are giving them and lobbying Duck to convince his sister that they should be allowed to open presents on Christmas Eve.

As Indrid helps them locate the proper blocks to build a TIE-Fighter cockpit, something sour bubbles in his heart. When he and Apollo were this age, they got on much the same, could even build things together without Indrid assuming it was a plot to destroy his project halfway through. It was the cusp, those years between eight and ten, of the storm.

“Mr. Indrid? I think you’re sitting on it.”

“Hmm? Oh, oh dear, so I am. Here we are”

After dinner, he and Duck excuse themselves upstairs, tired from the drive down.

“Thanks for helpin me wrangle the boys. Don’t know how Jane and Terrence do it, I get tired just tryin to keep Winnie out of trouble.”

“I think you’re rather good with them. It’s charming to see.”

“Heh, thanks” Duck blushes, tries to hide it by removing his shirt but just reveals the pink reaching his chest.

“I’m glad they have you, an adult who’s just there to be kind to them.” He hears the words, turns to quickly change into his pajamas, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound self-pitying.”

“It didn’t.” Duck is in a worn Yellowstone shirt and sweatpants, and yet Indrid’s pulse jumps in anticipation when the ranger locks the door, “Down to your boxers, sugar, and then get on your belly.”

Indrid complies, wondering if Duck is bold enough to spank him with his family in earshot. Then soft bristles rub circles on his back and he purrs.

“Thought the dry brush’d be good for helpin’ you relax if you got up in your own head. Seems I was right.”

“Mmmmhhmmmmm” Indrid melts into the bedspread as Duck works his way up and down his back, then his legs, and finally his arms. He’s tingling from top to toe, glad he took off his glasses because odds are good he’ll fall asleep as soon as Duck is done.

“There we go, darlin, that’s better. Now c’mere; we got a big day tomorrow and oughta get some rest.”

As Indrid drifts off with his arm slung over Duck’s side, it occurs to him that they’ve never spent the night in the same bed. Nor has Duck ever called him, “darling.”

Just like he’s never worked up the nerve to ask if the parameters of this whole relationship could change. Just like he’s never told him that, when he gets hard from their sessions and Duck doesn’t bat an eyelid, just asks if Indrid needs some privacy to take care of it, it’s agony not to ask if Duck might do it himself.

Just like he’s never admitted that his life is divided into days with Duck and days without him, that he looks forward to seeing him more than anything else. And that, on his most confident days, he suspects Duck is counting his days the same way.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s the plan, oh Christmas dom?” Indrid sips the eggnog with a splash of coffee Duck brought him in bed.

The ranger nearly drops his mug, giggles, “Jesus, there’s a Hallmark Movie if I ever heard one.”

“A bit risque for them. Though you’d make a fine example of the handsome, small town boy.” He winks.

Duck laughs again, “Glad you think so. And to answer your question, today we gotta run to the mall one town over so I can get some things for the boys stockings. Then I was thinkin tonight we could go for a walk over to Richardson Street; they do their lights up in a huge way. Uh, if that sounds good?”

Indrid nods, “You’re steering, remember?”

“I know, I just, uh” Duck joins him on the bed, “I don’t wanna drag you into somethin you really don’t wanna do. You’ll tell me if you need to tap out?”

Butterflies batter his ribcage, “Of course.”

The mall is serene compared to the one in his neighborhood in the city. Given he saw a fistfight break out in the line to see Santa there last week, this is not saying much. Still, the garish garlands and incessant carols are more pleasant when Duck is by his side, the two of them bouncing from Cost Plus on one side of the mall to the Cabella’s on the other in search of surprise stocking stuffers for Jane’s family. Indrid menaces him with a five pound gummy in the former (“it must challenge other bears for dominance”) and Duck pointing out every stuffed waterfowl in the latter with, “look, it’s a relative.”

The crows grows noticeably louder and larger after noon, but they have two more stores to try and Indrid really is enjoying being out, even in the chaos. He just needs a break, and his fingers are itching for the stim moth necklace tucked under his sweater.

“Oh damn, they got your number” Duck points to the menu board announcing a white-cholcolate eggnog caramel latte, “wanna take a break?”

“Yes, please.”

Once they order, Duck plunks down in a table that’s clearly been crammed in to accommodate the holiday rush. Indrid wonders why he chose such an awkward spot until he notices three things: no one will pass them by in the store, they’re not near a window, and the only person who can really see Indrid’s face is Duck.

He slips his necklace up and bites down.

“Thought you might need to decompress while we got our coffee. Know you feel weird doin’ that where folks can see sometimes so, uh, yeah.” He smiles gently at him.

“Thank you.”

The break and the sugar restore their holiday cheer, and soon they’re pulling onto the highway as soft snowflakes dust the car.

After an early dinner, Duck asks Jane if she and the others would like to come with them to Richardson (he checked with Indrid before inviting them). Which is how Indrid soon finds himself on a roped off street that’s a little too bustling for comfort.

“Lookit, Christmas T-Rex!” Will yells and Indrid tries not to flinch as he oohs and ahhs. The decorations are delightful, but why is everyone being so loud about it?

He touches his scarf, pretending to adjust it while slipping his fingers beneath to touch a band of black leather. Duck offered him his collar before they went out, since it’s small enough to be unobtrusive even if his scarf slips. Indrid accepted it happily, savoring the way Duck always took his time putting it on and getting it set just right.

The sensation of it on his skin, the reminder that there’s someone who’s looking after him, is enough for a while. But three quarters of the way through, the noise, lights, and constant bumping into people is getting to be too much.

Just as he fears he might make a scene, a strong arm is around his waist.

“You okay?”

He shakes his head.

“You need to go?”

“I, I don’t want to ruin it.” He’s fighting with memories now too, of Christmas events past and being snapped at to hold it together, to stop messing up their fun, to behave.

Duck keeps a hand on him as waves Jane down, “‘Drid’s not feelin’ too good, so we’re gonna head home now.”

She gives a thumbs up before tiny hands pull her to come look at a pirate christmas scene.

Indrid takes deep breaths, humming slightly as they move into quieter, darker streets. Duck doesn’t say anything, just holds his hand.

“I’m sorry, I was enjoying for the first bit but it just all got to me.”

“Don’t gotta be sorry, sugar. Whole point of this is to have fun.”

Indrid squeezes his fingers, trying to remember if they’ve held hands before. By the time they’re to the house he’s feeling much better, though he’s still a little sheepish when he slips downstairs later to bring Duck a seltzer for his stomach and runs into Jane.

“Told my brother he couldn’t down mom’s chili like he was still seventeen. Speakin of which, you feelin’ better?”

“Yes, thank you. How were the rest of the houses?”

“The boys are demanding we put up a Godzilla with a Santa hat next year, but other than that we had a good time. That was a good idea you and Duck had, we ain’t been to that neighborhood since we were kids” she smiles, “he’s much more fun with you around.”

“I’m glad. Ah, goodnight then.”

As he’s climbing the stairs, Terrence joins his wife in the kitchen.

“They real good for each other.”

“I’ll say. No wonder Duck wouldn’t hush up about him.”

He pauses on the landing, wondering if he should turn back and correct them. But what is he supposed to say?

“Oh no, it’s not like that, we’re just friends with a…very intimate relationship”

‘Oh no, it’s not like that, we’re just friends and he spanks me until I forget what anxiety feels like and we both pretend we’re not getting off on it.

“Oh no, it’s not like that, but I wish it were.”

He’ll ask Duck how to handle it in the morning.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hmm, none of these look right.” Duck frowns at the bouquets, “but I alway bring aunt Mattie flowers, can’t disappoint the old gal.”

Indrid cocks his head at the buckets and vases, “Does she have a favorite color?”

“Pink. That woman had a pink shag couch and a pink handled shotgun when I was a kid.”

“May I try?”

“Go for it.” Duck steps back as Indrid begins flitting from flower to flower.

He hadn’t planned to bring Indrid with him to the assisted living facility. They’d spent the morning making sugar cookies, Indrid getting frosting on his face over and over while Duck pushed his tongue into the back of his teeth to keep from licking it off. When he mentioned where he was going and that his friend should relax at the house, Indrid asked if he wanted company.

“Hell yeah I do. But, uh, Aunt Mattie is really the only relative I got left in town and it’s kinda bittersweet seein’ her all frail and the place ain’t the cheeriest and, uh, well, I don’t wanna trouble you with that kind of stuff.”

Indrid brushes flour from Duck’s cheek, “It’s no trouble. Not if it’s for you.”

God he’s fucked. He's been fucked for months, ever since Indrid was coming out of subspace on the bed, petting the cat, and Duck understood he wanted to see that every night.

“How’s this?” Indrid produces the bouquet. It’s like someone scattered every shade of pink into a snowdrift, and it’s perfect.

“Holy fuck, how’d you do that so fast?”

A shrug, “I worked at a florists for a time.”

The visit goes as well as it can; his aunt is mostly in there and is always happy to see him. They chat about birds he’s seen at work while Duck tries to ignore the flagging paper snowflakes on the wall. But her attention keeps returning to the flowers.

“These might be the prettiest ones you’ve ever brought me.”

“Can’t take much credit, ‘Drid put them together for me.”

Mattie smiles, “Let me tell you, that kind of color sense’ll come in mighty handy when you’re plannin a weddin. Paintin’ a house to” she gives Indrid a pointed look, “don’t let him paint a whole livin’ room puke green like his daddy did.”

They laugh, but Duck senses the shift in Indrid’s posture is coming from the same source as the knots emerging in his back.

When they reach the car, they’re locked in a horrible game of emotional chicken until Duck can’t take it anymore.

“So, uh, guess my aunt made some assumptions there, huh?”

“She’s not the only one. Jane and Terrence share her view of our, ah, relationship. I overheard them last night.”

“...Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure what to say.”

“‘Drid, we’re ain’t together.”

“I am aware” a chill enters Indrid’s voice, “but I’m hardly the only one avoiding that confession; every single person in town has, implicitly or not, communicated to us that they think we’re boyfriends.”

“What am I supposed to do? Get on the roof and shout the fact we ain’t boyfriends to the entire fuckin’ town? You know our relationship ain’t that simple.”

“Isn’t it? I thought you were very clear you didn’t want to be with anyone for a while after your break-up. We mutually agreed on friends with somewhat unusual benefits.”

“Then why don’t you tell everyone it ain’t true?” He doesn’t mean to raise his voice as he takes a sharp turn onto Jane’s court.

“Because I wish it was!” Indrid snaps, then throws his hands over his mouth as Duck throws the car into park.

There’s no sound beyond the cooling engine and the shrieks of his nephews running around inside. Indrid is just staring at him, eyes wide behind his red glasses. Duck’s certain he looks like a buck about to be run down by a snowplow.

“Do you mean that?” Is what his mouth comes up with while his heart is trying to climb up his throat and do the job for him.

Indrid doesn’t move his hands.

Duck dips his voice into it’s lower register, “Sugar.”

“Of course I do.” Indrid murmurs, tucking his hands in his pockets, “I, I didn’t mean to. When we started it really was nice to know we could do the dom/sub things without pressure to be more than we were. But lately…lately I don’t just want those parts of you. I want every facet of you, I want to be with you, and, and when we came down here all it proved was that you get me in a way most people don’t. All these cheesy christmas-y things we’ve been doing, they wouldn’t have been half as fun if you weren’t here with me. And I, I’m realizing I don’t want to do them–or any other day of the year–with anyone else.”

Duck takes his hand, fingers shaking, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was afraid of losing you. Pathetic, right?”

“Only if I’m pathetic for doin’ the same damn thing.” He shudders as Indrid rests their foreheads together, “christ, lookit us; kinky shit ain’t intimidating but we’ve been dancin around our feelings like shy sixteen year-olds.”

“Perhaps that’s appropriate given the setting” Indrid tips his head at the house.

“Guess so.” Duck’s leg is bouncing so hard he’s jiggling the seats, “what do we do now?”

“Kiss me?” Indrid tips his glasses up.

“One sec.” Duck rifles through the bag in the back seat, “grabbed this at the florist.”

Indrid laughs as Duck dangles mistletoe over their heads while he climbs into the taller man’s lap. The kiss is a homecoming to a place he’s never visited but should have been all along. Indrid hums against his mouth, twining around him like ivy on a tree trunk.

Then it’s interrupted by a knock on the glass,

“Hey, if I couldn’t make out with my boyfriend in the driveway, you can’t either.” Jane smirks through the window.

Duck flips her off, “Okay, spoilsport, we’ll be right in. Just gotta give my boyfriend” the word is like honey on his tongue, “a few more Christmas kisses first.

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #duck x indrid #winter fills #trans duck newton

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ddarker-dreams · 3 years

Text

Christmas Together / Scarlet Ribbons.

kicking off the christmas season with some highly indulgent hcs ! i’m also planning to write mini scenarios of getting caught under the mistletoe with each bucci gang member ehehe

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

Bruno Bucciarati;

It’s likely that Bruno will be the one you spend your first Christmas in Italy with. He’ll do everything that he can to make it a memorable experience for you, from taking you sightseeing to offering to spend the day together. His emphasis is always on the togetherness the season is meant to bring, so he’ll do what he so you never feel lonely or homesick.

When you’re dating, he’ll ask to take you to his hometown on the sea during the holiday season. Bruno wants to show you, the most important person in his life, where he had made beloved childhood memories. Of course, this includes treating you to meals and a stay in a luxury hotel. Bruno’s overjoyed to share this aspect of himself with you, an innocence that he long thought departed from him. You get to create new memories and reminiscence on old ones together.

The most likely from everyone here to propose during the holiday season. It feels fitting somehow, after sharing this much about himself and his ideals, that you two could eternally be tied together. Should you say yes, Bruno would obviously be elated, holding you so tight without intending to let go for as long as you should indulge him. Afterward, he’d bring you to the area his father is buried, saying that he’s now in good hands with you.

What Bruno would get you: A ring, whether it be an engagement ring or just a token of his love until you’ll have him as your husband. It’d likely cost a small fortune, a gold twist ring with a diamond in the center.

What Bruno would like from you: Honestly, this man needs a week or so away. Of course with you to sweeten to deal. Promise him a cruise and he’ll be putty in your hands.

Giorno Giovanna;

Growing up, Giorno never got to truly celebrate Christmas, only learning about it in school. Due to that, he’s knowledgeable about the holiday but doesn’t feel a real connection to it. His newfound enthusiasm would come from getting to watch you enjoy the various activities. He does his best to create more time in his busy schedule as not to miss out on this time meant to be spent with those dearest to him.

He would honestly melt if you brought him hot chocolate while he’s working in his office. It’s a small but touching gesture that warms his heart, it feels so surreal to him to have someone who loves him as much as you do. Giorno will invite you to stay with him so that the two of you can sit on the couch together, setting his work aside as he by far favors your company. Might get a bit mischievous and dab away the whipped cream you get on your face, leaning in closer than necessary with a sly smile.

Gold Experience Requiem is something of a sentient Stand, but still closely reflects Giorno’s wishes that he keeps locked away. While the two of you are walking somewhere, his Stand will imbue life into a nearby object, creating mistletoe that hangs above your heads. Giorno would bashfully apologize for his Stand’s behavior, only to be pleasantly surprised when you go on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He will be thinking about this moment for the rest of the week, god, your lips are so soft and feel so nice.

What Giorno would get you: Everything . No, but really, Giorno is going to want to spoil you even more than usual. You look at something in a window for .00001 seconds and it’s going to be wrapped up and given to you. Somebody stop this man .

What Giorno would like from you: Poor boy probably hasn’t ever gotten a Christmas present before, so anything would touch his heart. Giorno would love anything handmade or with sentimental value. A scrapbook or photos would be treasured.

Guido Mista;

Mista has honestly never really thought this time of year is anything special, not that he doesn’t enjoy it. He’s just never been big into holidays and stuff. Experiencing all these things with you changes his tune towards it though, it makes it all the more special. Every cheesy couple activity under the sun is going to be done with him, a goofy grin on his face. He’s so in love and can’t wait to make dumb memories together.

For some reason, he’s oddly determined to make a gingerbread man house with you. The gingerbread man cookies he decorates look a little off, their proportions funny and icing smeared everywhere. If you can’t hold back your laughter at the nightmarish looking creatures, he’s going to smear icing on your face, so beware. Mista will lick it off before running away from your wrath.

Sex Pistols get included in the celebration too of course. They’d be over the moon should you make cookies that look like them, though if you look away for a second too long, they’re still going to eat them. Most of your cooking consists of Mista trying to shoo away Pistols while you’re doing a majority of the work lmao. Number Five does his best to help! He’ll turn the recipe book’s pages for you and offer to help decorate. It’s super precious.

What Mista would get you: Ugly sweaters that he thinks are cool looking and literally everything on your wishlist. He spends all day wrapping your dozens of presents with Pistols pitching in.

What Mista would like from you: Mista is an easygoing guy, so he’d love basically anything. Put a bow on your head and say you’re his gift and it’ll really get him going. ; )

Pannacotta Fugo;

Fugo doesn’t associate Christmas with warm and fuzzy memories. He remembers all the dreadful socialite parties his parents would drag him to, how he was forced into uncomfortable tuxedos for hours, pretending like they were a happy family. With you in life his now, he’s willing to give it another go, but would need some encouragement. Fugo would only be doing it for your sake since he’s so whipped for seeing you happy. <3

Would love walking hand in hand with you through Via San Gregorio Armeno, taking in the remarkable craftsmanship of the nativity scenes. Fugo will visibly light up at the chance to impress you with his knowledge. He excitedly goes into rambles about the history of various things, from saints to traditions that were born in Naples. He’ll have a cute flush on his cheeks when he finishes speaking, realizing how you’re able to get him to talk so much. It’s precious.

Fugo is very insistent that you bundle up during this wintery season. Before you leave to go anywhere, he’s mumbling that you’re going to catch a cold, throwing scarves over you. He would never admit it, but the sight of you all bundled up with cheeks flushed from the cold is literally the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life. Don’t point out his staring, or he’ll get sulky.

What Fugo would get you: Fugo would fret over getting a gift you’d like. He’d go somewhat old fashioned, getting you a beautiful necklace that has your birthstone in the middle.

What Fugo would like from you: Attention. No, but really, he loves learning, get him some books on a topic he recently got interested in and he’ll be over the moon. Especially if you write a little note for him, he’d ascend.

Narancia Ghirgha;

Narancia is practically vibrating in excitement over getting to spend this time with you. He’ll tell you all the stuff he wants to do, enthusiastically waving his arms around, though it’s unlikely you’ll be able to do everything he wants. Narancia is going to be glued to your hip, ready to experience all the mushy couple stuff he can. He’s a bit clingy during this time, but indulge him, he hasn’t had good Christmas memories since his mom was alive and healthy.

God bless your soul if it snows . You probably already expect as much from him at this point, but he’s going to be throwing snowballs at you, laughing and running around when you pout at him. Narancia has a competitive streak, so throwing them back will incite a wild snowball fight. It’s all fun and games until he breaks out Aerosmith to attack your snow fort, then you’re having to reprimand him for using his Stand. >:((

He’ll tell you what it was like being in a detention center during Christmas, opening up more about his past. While he doesn’t seem to recount the time with obvious pain, you know him well and can tell when he’s hurting. Narancia would honestly consider proposing to you on the spot when you comfort him, saying that he’ll never have to spend this time of year alone now that he has you. It’s a sweet moment that he’ll literally never forget.

What Narancia would get you: Narancia would spend days making a custom mixtape, full of songs that you both love!!! He’d accompany the CD with bags of candy, bashfully offering to feed it to you.

What Narancia would like from you: If you wrote a song for him, he would probably cry from happiness. Narancia would be clapping like a madman when you finished singing it, saying it’s the best thing he’s ever heard in his life, and fully meaning it too.

Leone Abbacchio;

From an outsider’s perspective, one might expect Abbacchio to take a Grinch-like approach towards Christmas, but he’s surprisingly fine with it. Aside from loud caroling. He’ll make his displeasure for that known. It’s kind of always been just another month for him, but for your sake, he’ll make an effort to do whatever you please. Abbacchio grumbles as you drag him from place to place, but he’s literally melting on the inside at your cute enthusiasm. :’)

Abbacchio would forever imprint the sight of you in the snow into his memory. He watches the snowflakes dance around you, falling into your hair and glistening beautifully. While you’re going around trying to catch the snow, he allows himself this single happiness, silently wondering if he deserves it after everything he’s done. Before the negative thoughts can fester, you call him over, asking to make snow angels together. He doesn’t do it, he’ll just watch you having fun lmao.

You actually managed to convince him to wear matching sweaters, but not without a fair share of puppy eyes. Abbacchio is inclined to give in to most of your whims and this time is no different. Of course, he’ll only do it if no one is around, to save his honor. He’d enjoy having an arm wrapped around you by the fireplace, closing his eyes in contemplation. He feels immense gratitude to your presence in his life.

What Abbacchio would get you: Similar to Fugo, Abbacchio would feel worried about getting a good gift. He knows he can be prickly at times and feels this would be an opportunity to showcase his love for you. Eventually settles on a night out at your favorite restaurant and gifts you a bracelet at the end.

What Abbacchio would like from you: Your hand in marriage, he’d appreciate simple little things with lots of thought put into them. Making him breakfast, getting him a pair of shoes that goes with one of his outfits, stuff like that.

Trish Una;

Trish lives for all the cute couple-y stuff that you two can do during this season. Even if she won’t admit it outright, you can sense her excitement, but she’ll pout if you point it out. She’s not much for baking usually but will want to make cookies with you on the weekends as a date. Trish especially likes decorating them and gets super focused on getting the details perfect.

You two go on so many shopping trips. Trish will be holding your hand, taking you from store to store, trying on clothes together. She loves giving you recommendations based on what would complement your body type, you’ll be dressed to perfection at the end of the day. Trish doesn’t even bother looking at the price tags, she just picks what looks good and keeps going lmao.

In your downtime together, she’s going to be singing softly to you, running her hands through your hair as you lay down on her lap. Trish lives for intimate moments like this. She remembers how she loved spending Christmas with her mother, and while it hurts she can no longer do that, she’s immensely grateful to be with you. It makes the loneliness she would’ve felt more bearable. If you fall asleep while she sings to you, Trish will place a kiss to your forehead, whispering how she loves you in a way she’d normally be too embarrassed to.

What Trish would get you: Fashion and makeup baby !! It wouldn’t be exclusive to one day either. Lip gloss, eyeshadow palettes, new shoes, jewelry, bath bombs, the whole works. She gets a bit too into it.

What Trish would like from you: Matching accessories would make her heart practically beat out of her chest. That, or a charm bracelet, with charms linked to specific memories of your time together. <33

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