#i was trying to write with all the usual holiday family stuff going on around me SO

[solitaire-sol]

02. Soft

For: @prongsfoot-microfic Month: December 2023 AO3: Link Notes: Merry (possibly belated) Christmas, and equivalent holidays, to everyone who celebrates them! I just wanted to put out a little Christmas fluff to break my lack-of-posting streak. <3

They’d spent the day out-of-doors, tramping through snow-covered fields and wading through thigh-high drifts like colder, friendlier quicksand, competing to build the most ostentatious snow sculpture before trying to stuff snow down the back of each other’s coats. By the time James and Sirius had returned to the house, the coats in question thoroughly soaked when the snow-stuffing had become an impromptu wrestling match, twilight had already fallen and the village had been illuminated by festive lights and flickering tapers in red and white wax.

Christmas had come to Godric’s Hollow, or at least it was nearly there, and the air was layered with pine and cinnamon over the fresh, clean, cold scent of new-fallen snow. James and Sirius wandered back to James’ house, where the windows were glowing in warm welcome despite the fact that no one was home: James’ parents had gone visiting, as they did every holiday, and James would normally go with them except that Sirius was there, which took priority. James had been apologetic when he’d informed his mother and father, but Euphemia and Fleamont hadn’t seemed at all surprised-- The boys were old enough to look after themselves for a night or two, and the ‘old folks’ had departed with only a few cursory warnings against burning the cottage down.

After the two of them had stamped the snow from their boots, discarding their sodden coats in the mudroom, they'd only had to glance at each other before they were racing for the stairs, elbowing each other mostly-playfully as they clattered up the carpeted steps and separated at the landing: James darted into his room, then into the adjoining bathroom, while a hastily-slammed door from down the hall signalled Sirius' disappearance into the guest bath. Taps were turned, prompting hot water to rush out from pipes charmed to convey the perfect temperature, and the billowing steam fogged up the mirrors in each bathroom. Sirius, still his mother's son, couldn't help but take the time to wash and detangle and mostly dry his hair; so that by the time he made his way back downstairs, James was already in the kitchen, a towel around his shoulders and his hair still damp from the bath as he applied frothy whipped cream to two mugs of hot chocolate with far more care than he showed in Potions.

James looked up as Sirius entered the kitchen, passing him the mug with a cartoonish dog gazing mournfully up on the side; their fingers brushed together, just a little, and something in Sirius was warmed by more than just the hot bath, more than just the heat from the ceramic under his palm. James' mug had an out-of-proportion deer on it in the same cartoony style, both cups were bought as a joke the year before, but they were 'their' mugs and saw plenty of use whenever Sirius came to stay. The mugs were a set, after all, just as Sirius and James made a pair.

Hot chocolate successfully procured, the boys made for the plush sofa in the living room, where Sirius stoked the embers in the fireplace with a flick of his wand as James flung himself onto the couch with reckless disregard for the whipped cream and molten chocolate in his hand.

“Budge up,” Sirius ordered, causing James to grin at the faux-authority in his tone, and there was a good deal of jostling and wriggling before they found something that suited them-- Half-sprawled across the length of the sofa, Sirius' back wedged in the corner of the backrest and the couch's arm, James' back to his front. Long limbs and lean bodies slotted together with zero room to spare, and something that might still have attracted covert stares and curious speculation in the Gryffindor common room could be as easy and as natural as it felt. Sirius reached behind him with his free hand and seized a handful of the thick quilt draped over the sofa’s back, pulling it forward and draping it over James, who picked up the edge and tucked it around them like a two-occupant cocoon.

It might have surprised those curious Housemates to hear the surprisingly gentle cadence of the conversation that followed, which rose and fell according to the whims of the boys now cuddled together on the overstuffed sofa, the twinkling lights of the large evergreen in the corner creating a private constellation in the firelit dimness. Christmas at the Potters' was nothing like Christmas with the Blacks, who acknowledged the holiday in the way they did so many other things: With a deliberation that was at once both slightly ostentatious and severe, all overworked house elves and enormous silver punch-bowls that had once belonged to some storied precursor who’d flavored his glühwein with his enemies' blood. Sirius had years of receiving gifts from his parents, and occasionally they'd even been things he wanted, but there had been nothing like Christmas with James' family, all three in ridiculous jumpers that Euphemia knitted and Fleamont loved and James wore with pride. Their tree, always a superb specimen from the woods around the Hollow, was always all but smothered beneath the tinsel and enchanted tapers and sugared gingerbread, and hidden among the branches were multiple ornaments shaped like the letter 'J,' each in a different style, one for every year of James' life.

When Sirius spent his first Christmas with the Potters, Euphemia presented him with a jumper of his own, and James' gift had been an elaborately wrought letter 'S' to hang next to the other ornaments on the tree. "I'll get you another one next year," James had promised, and Sirius had laughed and called James a sop and pretended to study the weave of his jumper to hide the gratitude in his eyes.

James had been as good as his word-- James always was, when it mattered, and Sirius mattered to him, even if James showed it through deeds and not quite through words. It was evident on that night, in the way that James could be quiet with Sirius, in the way that the boy who always carried himself as if he were centre-stage could drink his hot chocolate and speak only when he felt like it, not when he felt he had to. That these feelings were returned, nebulous and as-yet-undefined as they were, was obvious in the way that Sirius allowed himself to enjoy the sweetness of the hot chocolate and the milky flavour of the cream, childish tastes that he'd never been allowed to develop but which, like so many other things, he was able to experience through James' presence in his life. Sirius had been honed by his family until he'd become as bright and as sharp as a blade; but with James, with James alone, there was no need to bring that blade to bear. James could disarm Sirius without really having to try, perhaps because James so readily showed Sirius the vulnerabilities that James would otherwise never admit he possessed.

When the mugs were emptied and set on the coffee table, when the logs in the fireplace were burning low and neither James nor Sirius felt inclined to stir them to life, the clock on the mantel began to chime. “Midnight,” James observed, relaxing against Sirius and smiling into the firelight, his fingers twisting idly into the fabric of Sirius’ sleeve. “That makes it Christmas Day. Happy Christmas, Padfoot.”

“Happy Christmas, Prongs,” Sirius replied, his voice soft, his eyes softer. Sirius didn’t quite smile, still somewhat unused to the way that James could make him feel-- Like the first day back at Hogwarts with his friends, like Monty and Effie smiling at him over the breakfast table, such times with James were too precious for Sirius to take lightly, and he would never quite master James’ knack for cradling everything in a grin. Even so, if only for a moment, it seemed like the world beyond the front door had faded into a pleasantly indistinct haze, and all that really mattered was that cosy living room and that glowing fire and the quilt that smelt faintly of lavender, the lingering sweetness on his tongue and the warm, solid weight of James against him, as if that was how they were always meant to be. James’ breathing flattened and slowed as he drowsed, ever able to fall asleep with an ease that Sirius sometimes envied, and Sirius let himself follow suit, his murmured words almost lost beneath the steady crackling from the fireplace.

“You mean the world to me.”

#prongsfoot microfic #prongsfoot #bambibelle #james potter x sirius black #sirius black x james potter #i was trying to write with all the usual holiday family stuff going on around me SO #hopefully it's at least a little cute and fluffy #my backlogged microfics are pretty angsty so this is like my christmas present to the boys #happy holidays everyone! #fics by sol

[libraryofloveletters]

The Christmas Market

Pierre Gasly x Fem!Reader

Warnings: home sick reader, pierre is trying his best, christmas markets, cheesy couple stuff, pierre is kinda sweet when he's not being an ick, pierre can't skate for shit, cooties as these kids would say.

Word Count: 718

Author's Note: again, my charity of the month writing the man. y'all know I don't fuck with this man like that lmaooo - for @2-fast-2-curious cause this is her pookie

--

You were missing home quite a bit and Pierre decides to indulge in one of your favourite holiday traditions.

Home sickness was no joke and it was kicking in big time.

You lived in Milan since you had applied to go to University there. You moved during your first year and fell in love with the place and with a certain formula one driver who lived there as well.

As much as you've come to love Milan and Pierre, you always went home for the holidays. For the last three years, you were home for Christmas and in France for new years with your boyfriend, Pierre and his family.

This year was much different, your studies kept you in Milan a lot longer than expected and you would be missing out on a lot of your family traditions.

No tree decorating, no cookie decorating and no Christmas market.

Pierre being the sweet boyfriend he was, was trying his best to cheer you up as much as he could. He usually waited until a week or two before Christmas to get his Christmas tree but this year, he bought the biggest artificial tree one could find and about a million and one ornaments to see if he could improve your mood.

And for a bit, it did work. The 5 hours it took you two to put the tree together, your mood did improve but the next day, it was back to focusing on your exams and the lack of Christmas mood was apparent.

He offered to bake cookies with you but you turned down his offer; you typically baked your mom's famous and secret cookies but you didn't have the recipe, hence the secret part.

Pierre was running out of ideas but then an ad for the Christmas market popped on his Instagram.

He finds you on the couch, finally popping your laptop for the afternoon. "How about a date night?" He asks, reaching for your hand.

"Babe," you groaned, letting him pull you up. "I'm not really in the mood."

"C'mon, some fresh air will make you feel better. You've been glued to your laptop all day."

"Fine," you gave in, the two of you getting ready. Pierre didn't give you any idea as to where you're going other than to dress warm. You figured you'd probably walk to dinner or something but you weren't - he opened the car door for you, driving to some undisclosed location.

To be honest, you weren't paying much attention to him or where he was going until the car came to a full stop, Pierre turning off the engine. You finally look up from your phone to see the sign in front of you; Christmas market.

"You didn't," you turn to face your boyfriend.

The man smiles, nodding. "I know it's not the one at home but, it's still a Christmas market so I hope that counts."

"Of course it does!" You reach over to give him a kiss, your hand resting on his jaw softly.

Pierre gets out of the car and you mirror his action, the two of you holding hands as you walk into the market.

The Christmas trees planted around the place, the lights wrapped around the roof of each stand, the sound of laughter and cheesy Christmas music filled your ears, as did the smell of gingerbread. You two decided to make the rounds.

You walked through the market, taking in all of it. Pierre let you drag him to every booth, buying you whatever your heart desired, even the ridiculously overpriced hot cocoa. You took photos as you went, stopping in at the photo booth; the classic ones of you two smiling, giggling and kissing with the stamp at the bottom - Milan Christmas Market 2023.

The night wrapped up with you attempting to teach Pierre how to skate. His hands in yours as you carefully took him around the skating rink.

He falls against you, you're pinned between him - a man struggling to hold himself up- and the barricade. "Did you have a good time?" He asks and you nod, a smile on your face.

"I did. Thank you for this, baby."

Pierre leans in, almost slipping but he catches himself as he kisses you. There's a little boy skating by, doing better than Pierre you might add, who makes a face at you two kissing. "Ew!"

You and Pierre can't help your laughter.

#holiday extravaganza blurbs 23 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 blurb #f1 imagine

[callofdudes]

Was thinking of this from the platonic ghost headcanon

Simon doesn't like taking leave because he has nothing to go home to. No family, nothing. He rents his house out to people who need it over the years he's gone. So when you both go on leave you invite him to stay with you. Needless to say you have a good time.

Could you be able to do a head canon on what him and konig would get up to during their time off

Platonic of course please 😊😊

I just want some bff ghost and könig stuff

These are taking me forever to write. I apologize in advance! 🫡 This is a lot longer than I originally anticipated. Apologies for any spelling mistakes.

A little look into their first time spending leave with you.

So like I had said on a previous post, Ghost has nothing to go home to. Nothing but graves burying family history. Each member of the Riley family locked away in silence. He doesn't like being alone at his house. Despite the fact that he relishes his alone time on base. He can't be alone in his home. And usually there is someone living in it anyway.

Ghost is constantly looking over his shoulder and jumping at the slightest sound. It's a nightmare to be shaken awake when your house is settling at night. So he just started trying to get Price to let him skip leave.

Of course, as expected this almost never works. Just to get Simon off the base and into fresh territory Price started to have Simon over for leave. He'd make up his guest bedroom and he'd make sure to accompany Ghost throughout. And this worked. Simon enjoyed the extra time he got with his captain when not in a life or death situation.

And then you came along. And so did the rest of the 141. They each had families and lives that they could go back to. Loved ones they could kiss and hold to escape the horrors that got their hearts racing every day.

Ghost was well aware you and him were friends, but he hadn't expected you to ask him on leave with you. He was slightly taken aback, sitting in the cafeteria and you just suddenly asked.

"Want to go on leave with me?"

Simon paused. "What?"

"You know. Christmas, finally we get leave on a holiday, how rare is that? I don't want you spending it all alone."

Ghost shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I don't really like holidays anyway." He continues to play with his food absentmindedly. You reached over the table and grab his hand, finally getting him to look at you. "Come on lieutenant. I know you don't want to be alone."

"And what makes you think that?"

"You go on leave with Price."

Ghost shrugged. He tried to pull away but you tugged back and stared him down. "Let me rephrase. I want to spend Christmas with you lieutenant."

Ghost sighed. "Alright sergeant. If that's what you want."

At first you'd thought he'd forgotten because he hadn't brought it up for the next week. He went about his duties as per usual and fixed everything so that his duties would be easily tended to while he was away. You were a little worried but when you saw Ghost walking toward the HELO with his large duffle bag and backpack you smiled.

Ghost threw his stuff in and sat down next to you. "Where are we going sergeant?"

Wherever you live, he's probably only ever been there for a routine mission if at all. But when you take him back to your home he surprisingly happy.

"Come on. Your bedroom is across the hall." He gives you the hint of a smile and you allow him into the spare bedroom. "It's all yours. Make yourself comfy. I'll make us something to eat yeah?"

You're set on showing Ghost around. You'd assumed that he'd stay in his room and brood to depressing music or something but after the first day and sorting himself out he was actually very social.

Well good morning!" You cheered when he tromped down the stairs in his pajamas. "Sergeant."

"Ah ah, none of that. It's strictly Y/N. Should I stick with Ghost or is Simon ok on leave?" He gave you a funny look before shrugging. "Simon's fine." He started to go through all your cupboards until he inevitably found the tea. He put on the kettle and slumped into one of the seats at the kitchen table. "Still tied?"

"Jet lag."

"Alright. Is your stomach ok for food?"

"Mhm."

Mr "I don't like holidays" turns his attitude right around in no time. You set aside a time just to go for a drive and show him all the Christmas decorations. He's leaning against the passenger side window just watching everything go by. He doesn't say much but you can see in his eyes that what you're showing him is holding his attention.

"Want to get a treat, walk the park?"

Unsurprisingly Simon loves going on walks. He always goes on walks with Price, but he enjoys walking with you. Going down to one of the natural parks and strolling with a drink or some kind of treat. He'll look around and take it all in. The silence, the quiet stir of the trees in the breeze. The leaves on said trees.

He likes listening to you talk. He goes the whole walk just listening to you talk, putting input in where he thinks he should. And you both enjoy it.

When you get home Simon is exhausted. He flops on the couch and turns on some mindless show while you get something to eat. "Simon! Food." You pass by the living room when he doesn't respond and smile when you see Simon curled up on the couch.

"Ok bud." You'll carefully pull the blanket on the couch over him and turn off the TV. You make sure you have soft music playing so that when he wakes up it won't dead quiet and go about your activities.

And Simon is passed out. He almost sleeps the whole evening. When he wakes up he's quick to come find you. He stalks into the kitchen and sees you at the table humming away to the music. He walks over and bends over and places his forehead on your shoulder. "Well good evening." You chime.

The first three days pass like that and you're astounded by Simon. He's so uptight on base, holding a status, a place above the others. Always reminding the inferiors of his high position but off base he doesn't have to. He even removes his mask for the entire afternoon in place of a medical mask. You were happy when you saw him come down, messy blonde hair showing an a few scars along his temples. "Look whose awake." He hums and goes for the tea as if it's ritual by now.

You felt honored when Simon came down like that. At least his entire face wasn't covered like he was ready for the next plague. He felt you with a portion of his face and that made you incredibly proud.

You make sure you're not locked in the house for too long. You always notice how Simon seems to relax more into the homey atmosphere after a morning run or something activity inducing.

"So in my family, every Christmas, we do a puzzle. That ok with you?" Simon loves puzzles. And he's good at them. You'll be moving and he'll snatch a piece out of your hand and slide it into place effortlessly in a spot you hadn't even seen. You got three puzzles done with how quickly you and Simon were able to complete them.

"Will you do the honors?" You smirked, handing him the last piece of the puzzle. "Sure." He scoffs and places it down. You smile widely. "Woohoo!" You cheer and raise your hands up and your flooded with joy when Simon high-fives your hands. "There we go!" And the joy in his eyes. Your not fabricating it. He's genuinely happy.

Two days before Christmas things shifted slightly. "So, I'm going to give you a heads up." Simon hummed while scrolling through his phone. "My family will be coming over tomorrow. They're going to be staying in the basement and spending all tomorrow and Christmas with us ok?" Simon is very hesitant. "And I know that you don't know them. They know you're here and I've informed them to give you all the space you need ok?"

Simon sighs. "ok."

"Ok. Just remember Simon that room is yours. If you need to get away at any time you can leave. There is no wrong or right time, we all understand."

"You won't be upset?"

"Simon. They're family, your the guest. You come first right now. Ok?"

You weren't surprised when Simon starts to go back into his shell. When you give him the heads-up they'll be there in thirty minutes he goes up to his room and comes back out with his plain skull painted balaclava on. His eyes are worried and hesitant but you stick at his side.

"Mum, dad, this is -" "This is lieutenant Ghost Riley." Ghost is straight and firm as if he's meeting a new transfer officer. He shakes your parents hands firmly which somewhat worries you. Simon is stiff because he's shaking. Once your parents come in a long with cousins and any children, you pull him aside. You look up into Simon's eyes and clasp his hands tightly. "They're ok. Remember, leave whenever you want and for however long you want."

Despite the reassurance Simon does his best to stay at your side. Your parents do seem a little weary of the giant skulking man. But they remain kind.

"Hey, your Ghost! Aren't you!" A little girl, maybe nine asks when Simon sits down. You pause. You look back at Simon when Simon looks at you. You smirk sheepishly. "Sorry Lt. Had to tell them my stories with good ol' Lt."

Ghost huffs. "Yes. I am."

"Is it true you took down twelve guys with a machete and tear gas?"

"Ok! I did not tell you that? Where did you hear that one?" You frown and look over at a slightly older boy who hides behind your cousin. Simon huffs a sort of laugh only you'd catch. "Yeah. I did."

You're beyond proud of Simon. He only goes to his room once for a few minutes just to calm down and recollect himself. But he sticks with you. You make him some tea and get him settled at the table. While your family engages him in more conversation than you'd first anticipated Simon makes it through most of it. Only dodging a few questions. "Do you have a spouse? How is your family?" It took a little discreet nudging before you managed to get your family off the topic of his personal life.

The kids were interested in him a lot and you were happy they didn't see him as scary.

That night after dinner Simon was exhausted. Just before he went into his room you turned him back and hugged him tightly. "Thank you Simon." He hums and hugs you back. "They're nice. Like you." And that is all you ever wanted to hear.

You and Simon are the first two awake and Simon actually tells you he's going to go out before breakfast. You're happy he's leaving on his own and wish him good luck. He takes his backpack but you really don't think much on it. When he comes back a couple hours later you're all awake. "Welcome back!" You holler.

Simon walks right upstairs and closes his door. You frown but won't push him on it. Bad sleep? Your family question it but you just push them off. "Possibly bad sleep. It can happen. Just let him do his thing."

Simon comes back down another hour later and acts as if nothing happened. He nods respectfully to your family and tap your hand. You smile and nod. "I missed breakfast." "Oh no worries. Put this aside for you. Let me know if you need more." You hand him a plate and he's off to the table in a confident stride.

When the kids get antsy you volunteer to take them down to the arcade. Simon comes. He's on a roll with his socialization. He keeps his hands in his pockets and examines most of the games with little interest. That is until your nephew grabs his shirt and tugs. "Can you do the shooting game with me?" You smile when Simon contemplated it. "Want me to kick your butt?"

Your family watches as Simon kicks your family in this shooting game. Racking up points and tickets effortlessly. "Y/N, give it a go." Your dad urges. "I dunno. I'm not as good as Lt." Your grab the rather heavy plastic gun and aim it at the screen. "Good form sergeant." "Learned from the best." Chaos ensues.

"Ghost! That was my shot!" You knock into him and attempt to push him but he swings right back like a battering ram and sends you flying to the ground. You gasp in pain when you hit the ground only to laugh a second later. "Should have seen that coming." Simon finishes beating your score before bending down and picking you up. "You did good."

"Not as good as you."

"Never. Your either better than, or worse than. You will never be like me."

"Harsh." You teased. He shrugs.

Same thing happened with ping pong ball.

You tossed the ball into the air and lightly tossed it. When it crossed Simon's side he wacked it so hard it zipped part your head and lodged itself in the wall. "Ghost!" You scold. "Sorry. Force of habit."

After the arcade Simon goes up to his room and doesn't come back down until dinner. He takes the seat at the end of the table near you and pulled his hoodie up so he can shadow his face when he pulls his mask up. When you notice his thigh begin to bounce you tap his arm and give him a nod. Gently reminding him he can go. But he pushes through once again and finishes his plate.

"Is it time for presents!?" The kids run to the living room and you can't help laughing. "Yes it is." You see Simon going up to his room and nod. You thought so. You all gathered around the living room and start talking.

You hear the stairs creak and look back up to see Simon hesitantly standing at the bottom step. And in his arms are four neatly wrapped presents. your jaw drops. "Simon..." You can feel tears in your eyes and you move over on the couch to give him room. Simon has never done Christmas in his life but he hopes he's got it down.

He gets the younger ones a big Lego set that they are all excited to put together when they see it. He gets your parents some nice candles and house decorations. And you. He was shaking when he gave you yours. Hardly noticable with how stiff he was but his eyes were focused on something else in the room.

When you open it your shocked. It's a framed photo of you and the 141, the one in Price's office you always stared at when you saw it because you all looked so awesome. ⬇️

(You're somewhere in there, you can be Alejandro I don't know😂)

He pulls a smaller gift from his pocket and when you open it. Now you're crying. The gift was a dog tag engraved with a saying Simon often gave you as reassurance. "Where'd you even find this?" "I had it made." "So that's - that's why you were gone this morning, isn't it?" Simon nodded.

You wanted to jump into his arms, but were hesitant. You looked around briefly, but Simon opened his arms. "Come here sergeant." You wrapped your arms around him and felt him tug you into a securing embrace.

"Thank you." You whisper.

You enjoy the rest of the Christmas evening with Ghost. He watches from the corner of his chair where you're playing a video game. Simon has to resist the mental urge to correct every wrong thing your poor nephew says about the guns in said zombie game.

And he packs it in early. He taps your shoulder to let you know he's off and he heads up to bed. You say goodnight and the rest of your family says goodnight as well. And it's late when you walk up to your room. You yawn and slip into bed. These last two weeks were great.

When you finally get back on base, in uniform with all your stuff Price meets you. "Well well. I trust you two had a good time?"

"It was great!"

"I was miserable Price. They made me have fun and stuff."

"oh you did that all on your own buddy." He nudged you in the side playfully. "I'm teasing. It was fun."

König has family waiting for him at home. Three siblings, two older one younger. And his parents. They're not the wealthiest but König's income of a steady 51K a year has kept his family afloat. For this reason Christmas can be a bit hectic at their place. When you two finally got leave, conveniently, a few days before Christmas, you were excited.

Poor boy was torn between seeing his family or hanging out with one. On one hand he hadn't seen his family in a while and on the other I wasn't inclined to leave you. It took him a while to try and decide, and this was all before he even asked you if you wanted him to come.

And knowing König he never did, too nervous to be turned down.

It was your average training day and König was having a bit of trouble keeping up. He blocked your kick in favor of taking you under in a headlock. Your heel dug into his boot in retaliation but he didn't let go. You tapped out and he dropped you.

"Hey, you doing ok buddy? I noticed you were slipping up a bit there." He doesn't have the heart to tell you or to ask so he just nods. "A lot on my mind, sorry."

"Want to talk about it? Or is it personal?"

"No, it's about you actually..."

"Oh? Do tell."

He shrugged. "I was just wondering... Are you doing anything for leave? I mean, You have family to go back to but..."

"König. Come on, you can ask me."

"Well I miss my family but I was wondering you'd be ok with me coming on leave with you?? Even though you would like to see your family over me."

You chuckled. "That's what this is about? König, you know you're welcome to come stay with me anytime you'd like."

"You wouldn't mind??"

"Of course not."

He's in a pretty good mood for the next few days. His ego was boosted a smidge knowing he'd been permitted to come with you and you could see it.

So he let the others see his pride.

The week you were supposed to leave König was attached at your hip. He followed you, helped you clean up, finish the paperwork you needed to and made sure you were secure and someone took over for you and him of course.

König was anxious to say the least. He'd never met your family and the whole flight back his couldn't help but think he was overthinking things. But he felt safer talking to you. Knowing you'd permitted him over to your house for a while wasn't something he should have to be nervous about. It was more your family he was worrying over.

When you arrived home it was early in the morning. The sun was rising and you two were exhausted. You pointed him toward the guest bedroom and told him to unpack however he liked.

"Everything ok in here?" You asked, coming to check on him after a few minutes. König nodded. "Only a slight problem." You raised your eyebrow as König laid down on the bed. His calves stuck off the bed and his toes dangled from the mattress.

You chuckled. "Sorry it's only a queen size, we can switch if you want? Mine is a bit bigger?"

"Oh no! I find it kind of funny. It's like home, the bunk back at base is barely big enough for me even after getting me a bigger one."

"Alright. If you're ever uncomfortable come to me and we can switch, see if that works for you. No problems."

König nodded.

"Ok bud. Get all the sleep you want." You yawned. "I know I will."

König is an early riser. Especially the first day back home könig is a little more antsy and just used to being up early. So while you take the chance to sleep in, König gets up at 9, much later than he normally would. And unlike Ghost, König knows how to cook. Not extremely well and not five tier, Gordon Ramsey stuff, but he can cook.

When you wake up and come down stairs to the inviting and warm scent of food your stomach growls. "Well good morning. I made breakfast for us."

You rub your eyes and see the breakfast in front of you. "Well look at you." You tease. "For me?" "For you."

König not nearly as anxious when in a domestic environment than on base. On base you know König as shy, socially awkward and a bloody murder. But in the peace of your home with just you König cooks for and with you. He roams freely. Of course he asks before using your stuff but he is no longer super hesitant after the first day.

It only takes him a day two to get into a natural gear.

Now depending on where you live König may have never been there. And if he has it's probably been on some kind of military related endeavor so he hasn't been out for sightseeing. You change this.

On the second day you and König go out and get breakfast at a restaurant. König was nervous outside of your home but he got through his order and no corrections needed to be made.

König loves his hood. Makes him feel secure and comfortable, but he's realized how much attention it would draw walking around like an executioner from the 1700's. So he's trying to like medical masks. He HATES them. They move around on his face, and only cover a portion of what he'd like to hide. But he doesn't complain about it to you.

You two then continue on to get coffee at a local place and just take a calming drive down the road. You point out all the signs and the Christmas decorations. König is thrilled.

Eventually you get out around one of the quiet natural parks and the two of you take a walk. König talks and doesn't really realize he's talking until he realizes he is dominating the conversation. And you're smiling like an idiot.

You tell him a bit about your family and spend the rest of the day out and about talking and exploring.

König settled easily.

When the two of you got home you both were exhausted from your day out. König dropped onto the couch and sighed. He rested his head back and you sat down next to him. "That was nice." König hummed and you were both out.

When you woke up König was half snoring, bent over his head head leaning on the couch armrest, his opposite arm still loosely wrapped around your shoulders.

You stirred from your sleep and stretched out on the couch. König still looked to be asleep. So you grabbed a blanket and laid it over his lap. "Sleep well."

The rest of the week carries on like this. König becomes more and more comfortable around you each day. You go for hikes and sometimes just sit around and play video games. It's amazing to see König laugh, losing track of time just sitting on the couch with you like the world doesn't matter.

You had gotten up early one morning. You were making yourself some coffee and you heard the stairs creak. "Good morning."

"Morning." Came König's rough morning voice. You pulled out a second cup as the tall shadow lingered over toward you. "How did you sleep?"

"Good."

You turned around and smiled up at him. Your smile quickly turning to shock. König looked down at you, a comforting smile playing on his scarred lips. Little scars here and larger scars there littered over his plain face. "You're hood."

"Mhm. Don't want to wear it inside anymore."

Your jaw dropped. You would have dropped the cup on your hand had König not taken it from you. "What are we doing today?" You blinked, thoughts still lingering on his face. His pale, beautiful face.

"Y/N??"

"Huh? Oh sorry! I'm just not, I haven't seen your face before. Apologies for staring. You're very handsome by the way."

König smiled.

"Well, family is coming over in a couple hours. They'll probably be here around dinner. After that they'll be staying the night and all of tomorrow for Christmas."

König nodded.

"And König, if at any point you feel uncomfortable you can leave the room. If you just have to excuse yourself and step away that is totally ok. And if you need to spend the rest of the night alone that's cool too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you don't even have to participate if you want to. I understand."

It was quiet for a moment. König seemed to take comfort in your words.

"Did you send your family any gifts?"

König nodded again. "I usually buy a couple months in advance and ship them off so that they'll get the gifts even if I can't make it."

"That's sweet."

"How about you?"

You chuckled. "Oh no no no, I can't tell you that. You'll go snooping."

"Snooping?? Then you got me something too?"

"Naturally."

This man has no idea what to get you. He was so excited to come down with you he'd completely forgotten about actually getting you something. So after breakfast he made up the excuse he needed some alone time and sped off while frantically trying to remember the locations of all the stores you'd pointed out the other day to see if he could find something.

When he walked into one of the stores, fixing his medical mask, he was nervous and jumpy. He ran around the store frantically for what felt like hours. Until an employee came over. "Sir? Find everything you're looking for ok?"

"I NEED a present for my best friend- I forgot to get them something and now-"

"You can find gift like items over here. And if they have a preference in jewelry or accessories we have a section for that as well."

Bless this poor boy's soul he loves you so much but has no fucking clue what to get you. At first he thinks sweater! But you already have some. Or maybe jewelry, but most jewelry and accessories weren't allowed to be worn actively on base so he'd only ever seen you wearing a watch or the occasional chain necklace.

Could you imagine being the lady who found this poor 6'10 man curled up and practically crying in the clothing section because he's freaking out about a gift. Just keep walking.

You're a bit confused at where König had gone. At first you assumed the mention of a gift had him either running away flustered that you got him something or flustered he hadn't gotten you anything. But it has been over five hours and König still wasn't home.

You're parents and family got there before he did. Weird.

You greeted your family and allowed them inside. "Hey, just so you call are aware, my military partner is staying over with us. I know I texted you about him but just be aware ok?"

You family is pretty chill about it. They've heard things about König. About how tall and strong he is. His job and how he barrels so easily through enemy forces. So his name isn't foreign to your discussions. Considering he's your partner he often comes up on discussions about your job.

You get your family set up downstairs and get to talking. You check the time worriedly and see König still isn't home. So you decide to text him. Roughly ten minutes later you hear loud footsteps at the door.

"König?"

"Yeah! Sorry I was gone so long."

"It's ok. Come into the kitchen, family is here."

König drops his stuff at the bottom of the stairs and takes off his boots. When he comes into the kitchen he towers over your family. You can't help but chuckle when your parents eyes widen at just how tall he is. You've talked about how tall he is, but 6'10 looks much taller in person I guess.

"Mum, dad, this is König."

König is just a bit stunned in the face of your parents and siblings, and your cousins were lounging in the living room.

"Hi." König waved and steps into the kitchen. "Good to see you back. Where did you find yourself off to??" You hugged him, comforted by his large hands briefly rubbing your back. "Just umm... last minute shopping and stuff."

You chuckled. "I figured."

You had informed your family about König's hood. But König made it through most of the evening before he started to get overwhelmed. With the notion of smaller children around, König didn't attempt to put his hood on, he seemingly already scared the children.

His large height was somewhat of a problem with the kids. While your family attempted conversation The youngers were terrified. So König wasn't going to attempt to put the hood on.

It wasn't until you'd mentioned how König was a pretty good sniper that one of the younger boys perked up. "Do you shoot guns like Y/N??" König hesitated. "Well, mine are a little bigger, but for the most part we handle the same kind of guns."

"Cool! So you get to sit on hills and snipe people like-" *making gun noises, you know the ones* "Well, actually. I'm not a sniper. I wanted to be but I'm actually used as a giant battering ram most of the time." This held the kids attention for a bit and König spoke freely about what his job entails with as few graphic details as he could. But eventually his attention was taken and König returned talking with you.

The kids were watching a movie while you talked with your parents for a while. König fidgeted next to you. His gaze scattered around the room until he got the courage to tap you on the thigh.

"What's up?" "I'm gonna head to bed, if you don't mind." "Absolutely, thank you for hanging out with us." König gets up to leave when you clear your throat. "And my hug?" He hugs you tightly and waves before going up to bed. And he can hear you all downstairs but tries to just get some sleep.

König is the first up the next morning. It's peaceful and with everyone asleep he has time to wrap presents. He puts on his hood and his favorite black sweater. So he looks like this giant black mass of fabric in the kitchen. But he's quiet. He doesn't want to risk waking you and your family.

The younger ones get up first, around 9. At first when they turn the corner and see König they're scared. König greets them softly and motions to the food in the sizzling pan. "I'm making breakfast. You want some?" They nod and sit down.

König serves the youngest breakfast and sits down with them. He isn't afraid to remove his hood around the kids, so he does, at least to eat.

"So, you're Y/N partner?"

König nods. "Yes, we go on lots of adventures together."

"What do you do? Do you shoot lots of guys??"

König hums. "Well, that's part of it. We fight for our home, but there are also other things."

"What other things?"

"Well, we have to stay at base and train recruits. And sometimes we have to move between several bases so we can train different groups of new recruits. And another part of it is paperwork."

The kids cringed. "So you're not fighting all the time?"

"Nope."

"That's lame."

König chuckled. "When you've been doing it as long as we have, you learn that staying at base and doing paperwork or training recruits isn't that bad. Sometimes it's a blessing."

"Why?" The kid tilted his head. "I'll let Y/N tell you when you're older."

König sat and talked with the kids until you were awake. You tromped down the stairs and yawned as you entered the kitchen. "König." You greeted, surpised. "Kids." You greeted, even more surprised to see them sitting and smiling in front of the man they were scared of a mere day ago. "I see you're getting along."

"Is it true you do paperwork all day Y/N!?" The boy questioned immediately.

You chuckled. "Not all day. Me and König have our adventures. We have some pretty good stories eh bud?" König nodded.

"Can you tell us???"

You looked over at König and sighed. Those kids wouldn't leave you alone. "Alright, König, tell them about the time you took on eight armed men with just your fists."

When your parents and other family members wake up, König goes back to wearing the hood. He doesn't want to scare your family but wearing it does make him more comfortable.

Surprisingly the kids enjoy talking to König than the rest of your family. Your parents were definitely momentarily wondering why the hell you hung out with this guy. That is until he offered to do the dishes and clean up while you got dressed.

"Alright, well, we're taking the kids to the pool this afternoon." "Like, an indoor pool??" "Yes, an indoor pool." Your father laughed. It was too cold for an outdoor pool.

While the kids start getting ready to go to the pool, you reassured König that he could come or go. But considering he had no swimwear, the two of you went out to buy him some stuff.

The pool wasn't that busy, a couple of kids and their parents buried in their phones on the lounge chairs. König was a bit off in the new environment. But the kids went right ahead to play. König sits next to you in one of the chairs and just watches.

You look over at him and smile. "And König, if it's not too much, I think you look good." Referencing the fact that he'd battled over going since he couldn't wear his mask in the water. So he'd just ditched it, only for a couple of hours and it was a weird feeling.

"Hey Mr!" König looked up at two of the kids by the deep end. "Can you throw me?" König looked over at you and you smiled. "They can handle it." König shrugged and stood. His hulking form walked over to the small kids and bent down when they reached their arms up. "Ready?"

They nodded excitedly as the first kid was swung. König lifted him high into the air and swung him, flinging him up into the air and down into the pool with a loud splash.

"Did you see how high he went!?" The other gasped. "Me next!!" König waited for the other kid to resurface. "That was awesome!!" He gasped when he pulled out of the water.

König looked back at you and you gave him a thumbs up.

König picked up the second kid and lunged him into the air. He screamed before he hit the pool only to resurface with a big grin. "Get Y/N!!"

You paused. König turned to look at you comfortable, dry, relaxing on your phone.

"König..."

The man turned and walked over. You discarded your phone and scrambled to your feet to get away. "König no!!" He snatched you into his arms and pulled you up ofc your feet. "Come on, have a little fun." You struggled and gasped as he brought you to the water.

He managed to flip you so he was now carrying you bridal style. "König please." You tried to hang onto his bicep but König rocked you back and forth. And you were flung into the air. You screamed on your way to the water and were taken under by a splash.

König chuckled that stupid little chuckle when you resurfaced. "You piece of-" You swam over and he pulled you out of the water.

König had fun. You could tell. It was the first time in a while you'd seen him just relax and let go. The first time he'd been around kids not screaming in terror and begging for their lives. It was the first time you'd seen König be able to step back and breathe. To call this a safe place.

After swimming your family came back and finished up Christmas dinner. König attempted to help but was quickly shoved out of the kitchen by your parents.

So he sat at the table and played a card game with you.

Throughout Christmas dinner König was doing pretty good. However, roughly half way through the dinner you heard this light tapping next to you. When you listened to it, and looked up at König scratched the medical mask you understood. You reached under the table and placed your hand on his thigh. "If you'd like to leave, you're more than welcome." You understood. You also god people'd out and nervous after spending too much time around people. But König had more than excelled today.

"You wouldn't mind? Just a little bit?" "Take the whole night if you need big guy, I won't be upset. You did wonderful today." You whispered. So König politely excused himself and headed up to bed.

When presents were opened your parents divided gifts equally. Your mom hummed at some of the gifts. "From König to Y/N." You smile and take the gifts. When you open them, you couldn't help but smile. He'd gotten you the sweater you'd been eyeing through one of the store windows on your walk with him. It was thick wool with holes for the thumbs on the sleeves and a turtleneck. And a multi-purpose pocket knife. You adored the sharp blades and the screwdriver end that came with it. It's almost as if he didn't have a clue what to get you. You loved them regardless.

And he got you a little card which almost had you in tears.

When the night was over and your family said goodnight, you walked up to your room and knocked on König's door. "Come in." You pushed the door open gently and slipped inside. "Thank you for the gifts." "I didn't know what to get you." "Well I think you did a fine job picking. I love them." König sat up and you sat down next to him. "I'm so glad you came with me you know?"

"I am too."

You give him a hug. "I'm really proud of you buddy. I'm really, really proud of you know that?"

"I loved hanging out with your family. They're amazing, just like you. I can see where you get it." You chuckled and wipe a tear from your eye. "That's all I've ever wanted to hear." "I mean it. They are wonderful people."

When leave is done and you two are packed up to leave, everything is a bit heavy. König will miss your house and the too small bed you gave him. But this place will forever be a refuge, a safe place in his heart and mind.

"Welcome back soldiers!" Your captain called. You both saluted the man on your way through. "How was the trip?"

"Oh we had an amazing time, can't wait to go back sir." König beamed under the hood. Your heart swelled. You were so happy.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #call of duty #könig x reader #könig x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #platonic x reader #platonic ghost x reader #konig headcanons #cod headcanons

[bbutterflies]

Happy holidays @grammar7wannabe!! I’m your gifter for @mlsecretsanta. I had so much fun writing some Adrinette fluff and family time, I hope you enjoy it! <3

“Thank you,” Adrien said to the server as he took the two mugs of hot chocolate. Marinette was waiting at a table for him. They’d just finished a walk through a market, enjoying a date on one of Adrien’s days off, and had decided to come into this cafe to warm up and sit for a while.

“Here you go,” Adrien said, handing one of the mugs to Marinette.

“Mm, thank you,” she said, holding it close to soak up the warmth. “I’m so excited.”

Adrien sat down across from her with his own mug, just as eager to warm himself up.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Marinette asked.

“I don’t think much of anything.”

“Oh, good! I mean, because my parents want you to come over.”

Adrien blinked back at her, a little confused. “They do?”

Marinette nodded. “We make Christmas cookies as a family every year. My dad insisted we couldn’t do it without you this year. He said we have to have the whole family there.”

“I’m part of the family?”

“Of course you are.” Marinette smiled at him. “I love you. And you know my parents love you, probably more than I do.”

Adrien loved the Dupain-Chengs. Marinette’s parents had welcomed him into their home long before he and Marinette had started dating, but once they were official it was like they never wanted him to leave. He didn’t, either. He much preferred Marinette’s house to his. Sabine made delicious food, and Tom gave him the greatest hugs, and, of course, Marinette was there. “Of course I’ll come over,” he said, grinning at Marinette. “I’m honored they’d include me.”

“They wouldn’t do it without you. They said they’d reschedule if they had to.”

“That’s an awful big claim for me when I’m terrible at decorating cookies.”

Marinette waved her hand in the air, ushering the thought away. “We can eat all the ugly ones right away. That just means more treats for us.”

“Oh, good. I’m excited to eat the cookies, too.”

“Duh. You think my mom would invite you over without feeding you?”

Adrien held a hand to his chest. “I’d be quite alarmed if she did.”

Marinette giggled (a delightful sound, if Adrien did say so himself) and held out her hand for Adrien to hold. He did, giving her a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be super fun. We close up the bakery early and just hang out for a few hours. It’s mostly just talking and stuff.”

“I can’t wait. It’ll be a blast, I’m sure.”

Adrien knocked on the door to the Dupain-Chengs’ home, wrapping his coat tight around him to try to stay warm. He was usually welcome to let himself in through the bakery, but it was already locked up for the day for their cookie baking night.

Family cookie baking night, that Adrien was part of. His heart still skipped a beat at the thought of knowing Marinette’s parents had made sure to include him.

The door opened to Sabine’s smiling face. “Adrien, come in!” she said, ushering him inside. “We’re so happy you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m really excited you invited me.”

“Of course. We couldn’t do it without you.” Sabine patted his arm, and when Adrien had shed his coat and shoes, she led him down to the bakery and into the back where Marinette and Tom were waiting.

“Adrien!” Marinette said when she saw him, greeting him with an excited smile and a kiss on the cheek. “We were just getting ready.”

Adrien looked around to see ingredients and bowls and decorating materials all laid out and ready to go.

“There’s my favorite baking apprentice,” Tom said, wrapping Adrien up in a hug. “Are you ready to go?”

“Absolutely,” Adrien said, smiling up at Tom as he let him go. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“We had to have you. It wouldn’t be the family without you.”

Adrien felt his face getting warm and was grateful when Tom started delegating out tasks to be accomplished.

Adrien was assigned the more straightforward tasks – helping measure out ingredients and rolling out the dough.

“Oh, that’s perfect, Adrien,” Tom said after inspecting Adrien’s first go at rolling out a batch of cookie dough, clapping him on the shoulder. “The exact right thickness. Are you sure you’re not a baker?”

Adrien’s chest was warm from pride. “I have a great teacher. But if you ever knead any help, I’m always happy to lend a hand.”

Tom burst into laughter (Adrien was pretty sure he’d never find someone who appreciated his endless supply of puns as much as Tom did) and patted Adrien’s shoulder. “That’s a new one. I like it. Keep up the good work, Adrien.”

Adrien had every intention to – both with his baking, and the puns.

He helped cut out the cookies and place them on trays to bake, though the task of actually baking was left to the experts. After the cookies were in the oven, they set to work making icing in a plethora of colors. Everything they thought they might need, mixed in separate bowls and carefully portioned into piping bags. By the time that was all sorted, the cookies were baked and cooled and ready to be decorated.

Adrien had done this a couple of times with Marinette before with little success, though that wouldn’t stop him from trying or having fun. He picked a cookie and an icing color and set to work.

“Here, hold it like this,” Marinette said, putting her hand over Adrien’s to adjust his grip, “or you’ll spill icing out the top.”

“Oh, thank you. I could never spill any icing. That would be such a tragedy.”

“For your sweet tooth? Absolutely.” Marinette kissed his cheek and let him get back to work.

Adrien decorated a few more, but he’d come in with big plans for one of the people-shaped cookies. He’d decorated the face already, but… “I need pink icing,” he said, glancing at Marinette. “Do we have any?”

“I can make you some. What are you making?” She leaned a little closer.

Adrien guarded the cookie from her view. “It’s a surprise!”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she turned to dye him some pink icing. She tried to sneak a peek again as she handed him the new piping bag, but he distracted her with a kiss before playfully bumping her away with his hip.

“Hey!” she laughed. “I just want to see!”

“You can in a minute,” Adrien said, leaning over the cookie to work. “I’m almost done.”

Marinette waited patiently, finishing a couple of her cookies before Adrien was ready to show off his masterpiece.

“It’s you!” he said, proudly showing her his (admittedly disastrous) cookie.

“Aw,” Marinette said, leaning in closer to study the details. “Are those… chocolate chips?”

“For your eyes.”

“I see. Very creative.” Marinette stretched up on her toes to kiss Adrien on the cheek. “Thank you. It’s a shame I have to eat her.”

Adrien feigned distress, holding the cookie away from her. “What? You’d eat my girlfriend?”

“She’s a cookie.”

“While she is very sweet, I like her to be not-eaten.”

“She’s a cookie,” Marinette repeated with a deadpan. “What else would you do?”

“Love her.” Adrien leaned in to kiss Marinette’s nose, earning him a delighted giggle. “Don’t go baking my heart, Marinette. I could never hurt my girlfriend.”

(Tom laughed from somewhere behind them at the pun. Of course.)

“I also have a surprise for you.” Marinette picked up one of her cookies and held it up to show Adrien. It was a much more artful rendition of Chat Noir, adorned with his bell and cat ears and even a wide smile.

“He’s perfect!” Adrien said in awe. “You’re so talented.”

“It’s really nothing,” Marinette said, a blush dusting her cheeks.

“My cookie is nothing. Yours is incredible.”

“Hey, cookie-me is nothing?”

“She’s as lovely and sweet as you, I’m sure, but I’m no artist like you. You really captured Chat Noir’s energy.”

“Did I get his dorky smile right?”

“Oh, you nailed it.”

Marinette reached up to muss up Adrien’s hair, and if Adrien was transformed he knew he’d be purring up a storm. “You’re very sweet. But you know we have to eat the cookies.”

“It’s a sad but inevitable fate,” Adrien said with a sigh. “If we must.”

Marinette nodded solemnly. “We must.”

They traded cookies, and Adrien wiped away a fake tear.

(Adrien wasn’t surprised to see Tom and Sabine standing to the side watching them with smiles on their faces.)

They did, finally, eat their cookies (with some more fake tears, of course, from the both of them as they mourned their losses) and a few others as they decorated. Adrien earned a few more delighted smiles and compliments from Tom and Sabine for his creativity.

He loved it here. He realy did.

The last cookie was decorated far too soon. Adrien was happy to help clean up, doing the dishes with Marinette and wiping down counters. Marinette even packed him a container of cookies to take home (Sabine had instructed him to sneak them in past his father) but Adrien wasn’t ready to leave the warmth of the Dupain-Chengs’ quite yet.

“Are you staying for dinner, Adrien?” Sabine asked when they’d finished cleaning.

“Yes, please,” Adrien said. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

#mlsecretsanta #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #my writing

[prettyboykatsuki]

jack(ass) of all trades | a. levi

✮ tags ; role reversal, gn!reader, reader is taller than levi, best friends to lovers, teasing, heated making out, petnames, modern au!, levi is mid thirties ish + a professor, reader is in I.T., 18+ bc they allude to sex and some nsfw stuff

✮ wc ; 3.1k (???)

✮ a/n ; levi.... i desire you so bad king. also maybe iffy characterization bc i dont write him often

✮ synopsis ; amidst the complicated endeavor of falling in love with one of his best friends, levi forget a crucial detail.

that you're a complete jackass when it comes down to it.

(or that time levi wants to progress in your relationship but you refuse to make the first move)

In an absolutely astounding turn of events, Levi Ackerman is head over heels in love with one of his best friends.

Perhaps, even more shockingly, he's also currently entrenched in a romantic relationship with them.

And really, truly - he doesn't know how the fuck he got here.

Life has a very funny way of turning his world upside down in the span of only a few months. It's happened to him multiple times - like some cruel and sick turning of fate that never ceases to make him feel bitter by the end. Not too bitter, because everything works out in it's own way.

But bitter in a why the hell do i need to go through this way. It's been an unfair and unjust life, both in big doses and small. Levi doesn't take it to heart because that would make him annoying. Anyone examining his life could say it objectively, Levi has had an excruciatingly hard life.

He always pushes through, because whatever. It is what it is, and he has to keep going. But it's true, certainly, that shits been rough from the get-go, but it always has a funny way of working out. His mothers untimely and sad death and being raised by a deadbeat uncle in a slum gave him motivation to turn his life around by any means.

And now he works as a professor with a cushy job. He nearly didn't have enough money for college because his advisor screwed his schedules and he needed an extra year. Nearly became homeless when trying to land a job after being kicked out of dorms when he was still in school.

A couple of robberies and bad dealings with people from when he was still out on the streets, it's been real. But Levi doesn't resent it because shit usually works out in the end as long as he tries to push through it. He's lucky to be living, despite of everything.

Character development or whatever.

A lot of the reason he was able to stay clear of anything too morbid was because of the people he get to meet in his life. His friends and family and all the people who've been with him for a long time.

Of those people, Levi hasn't even known you the longest.

But three months ago, he came to the conclusion that he was in fact, deeply in love with you.

And for another time in Levi's life, he was completely and utterly screwed. For the first time, he really had no fucking idea how this was going to work out.

You met Levi in college when you were both working at some run-down restaurant to make ends meet. You didn't get along great at first, reason being you were very different. Where Levi was quiet and aloof, you were personable and friendly. Too friendly for his tastes, Levi sort of assumed you were the shallow type.

You lacked the eccentricities that usually made him have some trust and there was something about the way you weaseled out of situations that made his stomach turn. Back when he was on the streets, you were the kind of person he'd always avoid.

Unpredictable.

Hange seems unpredictable, but they're actually calculating. Levi learned that quickly. You were actually unpredictable - as in Levi had no idea how to read you for the longest time. What you were up to, what you wanted.

It all culminated at a holiday work event, where Levi was properly shitfaced and catching some cold air. You were also drunk and you apparently decided to cut the shit for the night.

And in some corny twist of events, you had a long heart-to-heart where Levi smoked his first cigarette (your cigarettes) and got to see your laugh (your real laugh) for the very first time. From there, you became quick friends despite Levi's obvious grudge towards you.

You've been friends for nearly ten years now. You spend a lot of time with each other, especially lately since you've landed a job on his campus doing I.T.

In the ten years you've known each other, you've both been in several relationships. Semi serious ones at that, with your longest one being nearly 5 years. His longest only amounting to two, with a lot of interludes in between.

Levi has a complicated relationship with love. He always assumed maybe he was just especially picky, or maybe romance wasn't something he would be fulfilled by. He had a very close knit group of friends and he didn't often find himself longing for that kind of companionship. His relationships always ended amicably, over Levi's disinterest nearly always.

Your committed relationship had a rocky break-up but you were always a naturally affectionate person in the rest. Levi got to witness it real time, when you'd bring over whoever you were seeing. Doting and gentle, nose nudging someones neck with some liquor in you. Seeing that always made him yearn. He figured he just needed to meet someone he clicked with better, though he'd never uttered the words outloud.

But three months ago, you got this new job and now your proximity is really close. Instead of just in-the-same-city close. You saw him nearly everyday and often fixed the projector in his classroom with a goofy smile - calling him an old man in the process.

He usuaully eats lunch with you and you talk about a lot of nothing together. Sometimes you talk about relationships.

And one time, you tell Levi about the sort of dates you take people on. After he accuses you of being a shitty lover, in jest of course.

( "Thinking about you courting someone gives me chills." He says, over a cup of plain coffee. You pause.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean? You can say a lot about me, but I'm a good lover, Ackerman."

He snorts. He knows you probably are but shakes his head anyway.

"Yeah? And hows that?"

You scoff, smile playing at your lips anyways. You look a little far-away for a minute before looking him in the eyes, head cocked.

"Mm. Some chivalry does the trick, usually." )

It was an awful epiphany with even worse timing. He was forcing the reaction down until he was on his way home. In his car, he slumped over the wheel and cursed as loud as he possibly could because that one moment was all it took.

Levi Ackerman was in love with one of his absolutely moronic best friends.

He's never been so upset. But it clicked all of a sudden, he had this realization. His longing for relationships was never about love but about you. His disinterest made sense when he pictured crossing those lines with you. Holding your hands and taking you on dates.

He was blushing. Just picturing it was making his face flush with embarrassment and Levi knew he was screwed.

You've got to understand. Levi was in love with his best friend who's friendship he valued a lot. And he's not one to overthink, but with no way of affirming or knowing your feelings - he was adamant to bury this emotion as far as possible. To lock it away forever and dismiss it as some crush.

But once the ball was rolling, Levi couldn't. He couldn't be normal around you. He was avoiding you and obviously you noticed and he even went as far as telling Hange and Erwin while wasted. And apparently they already knew, and thought he knew.

Everything was a mess for those two months of limbo. Levi knew he was going to have to address it eventually because by simply avoiding it he was already fucking up your friendship. So, like the no bullshit person he is - he gave you a time and place and decided he was going to confess.

He thought a bar would be good. To drink and eat snacks, and be casual. But the intimacy of the whole thing was making him a little sick, and it took him three beers to even bring it up. Five to muster up the courage and say it.

("I'm...in love with you." He says, words slurred. Heart pounding, fists curled and fully prepared for rejection.

It's silent. When he opens his eyes to look, you're taking sip of beer with a little surprise in your face.

"Oh. Me too.")

In a shocking twist of events, you were also in love with Levi. In fact, you knew that when your 5 year relationship ended. That's why it even ended. But you figured Levi would never be interested in a similar desperation to protect the friendship - you dated around and hoped it would die down eventually.

After that went down, Levi went to your apartment and you talked it out for a bit. Where to go from here, what to do. Levi told you that he wanted to take it slow, calling you a heathen knowing the details of your hook-ups. You really didn't protest. Just shrugged and said he could control the pace.

And for the last month, he'd been doing just that. Nothing much has changed in that time period.

In fact, nearly nothing has changed other than sometimes - Levi will hug you for a bit longer and holds your hand in private.

That's the thing, the issue, the debacle.

It's all fun. It's great, it's nice. And Levi really is wanting to take it slow or at least he thought he wanted to take it slow.

But it's been a month and you've never even kissed. He can't tell if you're just being sadistic or what, but you are keeping your promise of only letting him control the pace and it's really starting to get on his nerves.

___

You're coming to pick your boyfriend up for a movie date in five minutes.

Right now, he's waiting outside of the bar with Hanji - who's laughing their ass off about Levi's furious blush and apparent predicament.

"Dunno, Levi. You made your bed, so lie in it, yknow?"

"Fuck you," Levi buries his face into his scarf "I don't even know why I told you."

"Because I'm your good friend with sage advice,"

"Oh, yeah? What kind of sage advice are you offering, exactly? I'm dying to know." He deadpans. Hanji laughs more before their expression goes soft.

"Make the first move. Not saying your cat adjacent charm isn't working but," Hanji clicks their tongue between their teeth "Knowing Y/N, they're definitely not gonna make a move first if you drew the line."

"But why? I don't get it. They're being so obvious about wanting it too."

"Definitely to mess with you," Hange says, not missing a beat. Levi widens his eyes "Oh, come on. Don't look at me like that. They're your partner now but you know what they're like."

"What they're like?"

Hanji chuckles.

"A tease. A flirt. A prankster. Whatever you wanna call it. They're obviously messing with you and they're obviously planning on committing to the bit no matter the cost."

"You're joking."

"Do I sound like I'm joking?" Hanji sighs, looking at Levi (who's mouth is currently agape from disbelief) "Do you remember that one time, when he had that party at Erwin's house? During Christmas."

Levi nods.

"And do you remember how we got stuck in bathroom in the guest bedroom? And we could hear them hooking up? We were pretty shitfaced but—"

For the first time it clicks. In the midst of dating, of falling in love, of nonsense - Levi had forgotten. For one moment, he truly forgotten one crucial thing about you.

That you're a jackass and a lover of malicious, indiscriminate compliance. If he were being nice about it, a tease.

You're—you're fucking—you're messing with him.

And Levi is so annoyed for a minute he thinks he's gonna break up with you right the. It must show on his face because Hanji laughs harder than ever before and Levi is red in the face because how annoying is that. You're not going to kiss Levi until he's left with not a shred of dignity.

Because you're an asshole, and that little smile you do is definitely sadisitic. Fuck.

With cosmic irony, your car pulls up the minute he's come to this same conclusion. He's hardly there when he opens the door, and slides in your seat. The sound of Hanji's laugh haunts him as he shut the door, and he doesn't process the first 10 words you say.

"Well, anyway, you ready to watch the movie?"

Levi grunts.

"Yeah. Ready."

__

As is the pattern for Levi at this point, no matter how much he tries - once he realizes something, it refuses to detach from his conscious unless he addresses it.

You drive to the movies, buy two tickets, and Levi holds your seats while you go buy popcorn. You watch the trailers before-hand in silence, and you have the decency to hold his hand while that happens.

And you watch the film in silence. Levi is somewhat able to pay attention. It's a good movie, a psychological thriller that he's been itching to watch for a while and it meets his expectations. And it's all fine, until the movie inevitably ends.

You leave the theater, make it outside, and decide to go for a little walk and maybe get something to eat.

And Levi, no matter how much he tries, can't let it go.

Before he knows what he's doing, he grabs your wrist and looks around before pulling you into the closest, poorly lit alley.

He can hear you make a little noise of surprise as your back hits the pavement, a little lost. His hands on the wall behind you. It's times like this he's annoyed about the height difference, but he grabs the lapel of your coat to knock his forehead into yours.

His irritation must show in his face because you look concerned. Good.

"Uh. Baby? Gonna explain or—"

"You," He says, menacing. Seething, really "You're doing this on purpose."

You smile.

You grin. You fucking—

"What are you talking about?" You say, feigning innocence and Levi really considers knocking you out for a minute.

"Don't you play me dumb with me, you little shit. You're doing it on purpose." He repeats. You look so smug. If it wasn't so annoyingly sexy, he would be even angrier.

"Doing what on purpose, though?"

Oh, you. You're gonna make him say it. The nerve.

"You're avoiding it. Initiating. It's been an entire month, we're grown adults and we haven't even kissed. I thought you were just dense, but no - you're doing it on purpose."

You hold back a laugh, using your tongue to run over your lip.

"You think so?"

He hits your chest.

"I know so. We started dating and I forgot you were a complete jackass."

"Kinda on you," You say, smiling at him. He hates you for looking so pleased "Are you saying you wanna kiss me, Levi?"

"Use your brain for a minute."

"No, no. I'm saying," Levi almost chokes when he feels your hand around the base of his neck. How you're stood up, knees bent - inches from his face. His hearts pounding. It's not like he's never kissed anyone before, so why is he so nervous "Do you want me to kiss you, Levi?"

"You're annoying"

"I'm respecting your boundaries." You counter. He frowns.

"Just do it already."

"Sorry, sorry."

Like he said, he's kissed people before. Plenty actually. He used to get drunk in college and makeout with strangers and he's not exactly unfamiliar with it. It's not different, or it shouldn't be different. It shouldn't feel different.

Maybe it's the months long wait, or maybe it's the mountain of feelings he's had to reconcile with in the last few weeks alone. But he doesn't think he's ever been so conscious of a kiss in his entire life. He's probably never been so conscious of any one person in the history of ever.

He knows. It's just a kiss. Hardly anything to scoff at. But he's just so affected, for a minute - it feels like he's forgotten how to do anything but melt. He feels like he's gonna turn into a puddle of water, and his hands are around your shoulders. You are frustratingly good at kissing. You're slow and easy, and your press your lips against him and coax it a little deeper.

And your hands travel down his waist and he doesn't stop you from touching him. He feels blood go somewhere it shouldn't and he pulls away before it can get too bad. He refuses to let your first sexual endeavor be in some shitty alley - but by the time he's pulled back, he's longing to kiss you again.

You give him a smile, ditzy and annoying and so charming.

"Already over it?"

"Shut up. I'm not having sex in alley for our first time."

"Another time, then?" You tease, tilting your head to one side "We can makeout a little though, right?"

"You're terrible. A menace to society. I hope you get arrested."

"I'm sorry," You say, dragging the syllables out "It was kinda cute seeing you get frustrated though. Over little old me, at that? Once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Count your days and watch your back."

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Lemme make it up to you?"

He huffs, and pushes himself up to kiss you easier. God it feels good to kiss you. Like being given some ounce of relief after being starved of it for months. He wants to touch you. He wants to do a lot more than that, but for now - he lets himself hug your body as you kiss. You hold him tight, arms around his waist - creeping under the waistband of his pants but not going further.

The pressure of your body, and the warmth, and your hands. God, your hands feel so good. Your lips are soft and you taste like theater popcorn and soda. Levi has never felt so fucking desperate for a kiss in his life and he hates it a little. But he imagines when people talk about passion, this must be what they mean.

You pull away, just for a minute and Levi nearly chases you before getting a grip on reality. You giggle against his mouth.

"I like kissing you."

"If you ever pull some shit like this again, you won’t hear the end of it."

"I'll take that as reciprication."

He kisses you this time, face in your neck with a sigh.

"Read the room."

"Right, right. My bad, baby."

#writing tag #levi x reader #aot x reader #aot x gender neutral reader #levi fluff #aot fluff

[katsu28]

christmas tree miracle

pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

summary: when running horribly late on finding a christmas tree actually turns out to be one of the best decisions of your life

warnings: light swearing

a/n: taking a tiny break from writing 1k celebration things for some holiday fluff, but i'll be back on it soon!! come join kait's sweetest celebration if you'd like! <3

navigation + taglist

(gif found on pinterest)

Things were not going well. With the hectic nature of the holiday season taking over your whole life this time of year, you’d forgotten that you were in charge of securing a Christmas tree for your family.

It was now t-minus five days until Christmas, and you had yet to find a fir tree anywhere in the Outer Banks, which is how you ended up at at a smaller, more mom and pop farm called Woodards over on the south side of the island, praying for a goddamn Christmas miracle that would somehow get you the perfect tree.

But much to your dismay so far, no luck. The tiny lot was near void of trees, save for a few pathetic wilted ones over by the metal fence that definitely wouldn’t bode well if you brought any of them home.

You sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as you dragged a heavy hand down your face at the disaster you’d created for yourself. Christmas was your family’s favorite time of year, and you’d fucked everything up before the day had even come.

How were you supposed to go home and tell them that their favorite holiday tradition wasn’t happening this year, all because you’d gotten a little busier than normal?

“Hey,” A voice called from a little ways away, drawing your attention to the owner of said voice, a boy around your age, broad shoulders in a thick, worn looking grey jacket and blond curls poking out from under a red baseball cap that he tugged down tighter on his head as he peered over at you curiously. “You okay?”

You straightened up instantly, and you sniffed, trying to gain back your composure so you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself in front of this stranger. This very cute stranger.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just, erm—trying to find a Christmas tree,” You sighed, gesticulating vaguely.

“Well, this is a Christmas tree farm, so you’ve definitely come to the right place.” He replied, lips quirking up into an amused smile. “Though you’re comin’ in a little late in the game, I’d say. You can probably see that we don’t have much of…anything, really.”

“‘S on me, I totally forgot I was supposed to get it this year.”

“Busy holidays?”

“That’s putting it simply. Feels like it’s coming a lot faster than usual.” You chuckled humorlessly, dragging a tired hand down your face. The boy nodded knowingly, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Any chance you’ve magically got any good trees somewhere around here?”

“I think I might be able to help you out.” He hummed, making a dramatic show of scanning his surroundings before crooking a finger at you to follow him. You fell into step with him as he navigated his way across the farm deftly, your steps a little less sure. What did your parents always tell you about going to a secondary location with a stranger?

The boy could definitely tell you were on edge, because he snorted, an amused smile stretching his lips. “Relax, I’m not gonna do whatever you’re thinkin’. We keep some trees over behind the main tent—the not quite perfect but still pretty good ones, just for poor old saps like you.”

“Oh, he’s funny too!” You rolled your eyes playfully, which made him smile even bigger.

“I try my best. I’m JJ, by the way. Christmas tree extraordinaire.”

“Y/N. Poor old sap.” That drew a laugh from him, and you felt a little bit proud of it. “So what made you wanna work on a Christmas tree farm?”

“Want? Nothing really, but I’ve known the Woodards since I was a kid so they usually hook me up with seasonal jobs. Lawn mowing in the spring, pool cleaning in the summer, that kinda stuff.” He explained, a fond smile creeping over his face. “Plus, Mrs. Woodard makes the best snickerdoodles ‘round this time of year. I swear I could never eat anything other than those cookies for the rest of my life and die happy.”

“They seem really nice.”

“They’re good people. Some of the nicest you’ll ever meet.”

“And they’ve got good taste in employees too. Are all your coworkers this charming?”

“Oh, stop it,” JJ brushed you off unconvincingly, holding a hand over his heart. “You’re making me blush!”

“It’s true! If all Christmas tree salesmen were as good as you, we’d have an even bigger tree shortage!” You laughed. It was weird how you could feel this at ease with someone you’d met not even twenty minutes ago, but here you were, flirting up a storm with JJ. It didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward at all, it felt…natural. Easy. Like you’d known each other for a lot longer.

“You’re just gunning for my cookies, aren’t you?” He teased, nudging your arm with a pointy elbow. You feigned surprise, shrugging innocently. “There might be some on the counter by the cash register later, you can probably snag a few if I’m feeling generous.”

“How kind of you!” Your conversation with JJ was cut short by your arrival at wherever he’d taken you, the sizable amount of pretty decent looking fir trees standing propped up against the fence proving a worthy distraction. “Oh wow, these are beautiful!”

“Feel free to look a little closer if you want, I’ll, uh, start getting some rope ready for you.” JJ set off almost instantly, leaving you studying the trees intently for the perfect one.

You’d only just found one when he reappeared, this time with a bundle of thin rope over his shoulder and some plastic netting, tossing the two on the ground next to the tree you were eyeballing once he was close enough.

“Oh, this one’s a nice one,” He noted, running a hand along the bristly branches. “You’ve got good taste.” You just grinned at him, happy that you were actually getting a tree after all. “I’ll get it tied up and ready to go then!”

JJ made quick work of packing up the giant tree, maneuvering it easily like he’d done it a thousand times before—which, judging by the lack of trees around, he probably had. Within no time, he’d looped the rope around the stump, slinging the whole thing over his shoulder and setting off towards the main tent with you in tow, without so much as breaking a sweat. It was probably one of the hottest things you’d ever seen.

“I can’t thank you enough for this, JJ, seriously,” You breathed, digging in your bag for your wallet. JJ leaned the tree against the fence next to the tent, brushing his hands off on his jeans as he made his way behind the counter.

He punched a few buttons on the ancient looking register, shrugging casually. “‘S what I’m here for. Glad I could help.”

“You’re literally the best. What do I owe you?”

“Normally, I’d hike up the price on this beaut for such a last minute score, but luckily for you, there’s a discount today,” He said proudly, grinning a wide, troublemaker smile. “I like to call it my ‘saving a pretty girl from more holiday distress’ discount.”

Your brows flew up at the boldness in his words, but you found yourself smiling. JJ the cute Christmas tree boy had game. “Oh? So how much do I owe you now?”

“Eh, sixty bucks.” JJ replied. Your brows furrowed at the low price. For a tree like this, which was actually pretty nice, you would’ve thought it would cost you an arm and a leg. “And a date.” He added hastily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“A date.” You echoed, tilting your head thoughtfully, like you were pondering it. Truth be told, you weren’t actually thinking about turning him down at all. In fact, you had also been grappling with asking him out in the duration that you’d gotten to know him.

“Yeah. Coffee, movie, walk around town—I don’t mind. I just…I’d really like to see you again, Y/N.” JJ looked almost nervous now, lips pressing together into a sheepish grin.

“I’d really like to see you again too, JJ.” You meant it. There was just something about him that made you want to know more. You passed him the money you owed him for the tree, which he secured in the register drawer before nodding curtly.

“Here, lemme walk you to your car,” He insisted, shouldering the tree once again with minimal effort. The walk to your car was shorter than you would’ve liked, but alas, here you were. JJ stared up at the roof of your car, propping his hands on his hips with a furrowed brow. “I can get this up there in no time. Light work.” He flipped his hat backwards over his blond locks, pulling a pair of work gloves out of his jacket pocket and sliding them on.

He’d shucked his layers off until he was just in a t-shirt that gave you full view of his biceps, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the sight of him and those biceps hefting the large tree on top of your car. And he was right, he really did get the tree secured to the top of your car in no time, and soon enough he’d opened your door for you, helping you climb in.

Shutting your door carefully, JJ leaned into your open window, braced elbows and open palm holding up his chin as he watched you throw your bag onto the passenger seat. “I’ll see you around?” He asked, cheeks flushing pink in boyish hope. “Soon, maybe?”

“How’s next Friday sound? Lunch at noon?” You offered, tilting your head at him.

JJ beamed at you happily. “Sounds perfect. Text me when you get home, yeah? Gotta make sure that tree survives the journey.”

Your cheeks warmed at the care in his words, even though he tried to disguise it with teasing. “I will.”

“Good.” He murmured, looking like he wanted to say something, but deciding against it. “I’ll see you Friday.”

“See you Friday,” You echoed, smiling warmly at him. “And thank you again, JJ. I mean it. You’ve literally just saved my Christmas.”

“Saving poor old saps is my favorite part of the holiday season.” He teased, winking at you.

“Poor old saps like me?”

“No…nothing like you. You’re way better.”

Feeling emboldened by the wistful look on his face, you leaned out, fingers angling his jaw to the side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Bye, JJ.”

“Bye.” He sighed, pushing off from the window with his cheeks now a pleased pink. “Drive safe.” You waved at him once more before starting your car, watching him get smaller and smaller in your rearview mirror as you drove away.

Staying true to your word, you texted him the minute after you pulled into your driveway.

Y/N: miracle tree has officially made it home.

A reply came in almost immediately—a selfie of JJ, mid-munch on a cookie, squinting happily at the camera.

JJ: glad to see it. u just missed a fresh batch of snickerdoodles. sucks to suck, doesn’t it 😉

Y/N: you better bring some on friday then

JJ: of course i will. but i gotta tell u now, they come at a price

Y/N: and what would that be?

JJ: one tin of cookies for another date

You hadn’t even gone on your first date, and here he was bartering for a second. He was bold, and you liked it.

Y/N: deal <3

taglist!

@milkiane @moralina @scenesofobx @tenaciousperfectionunknown @strawberryforks @vesperluvsbillie @like-gabriel-and-castiel @fearthewalkingbitch @eichenhouseproperty @dpaccione @directioner5life @liltimmyst @lilygreennn @sunkissedsteve @mrstealuregirl @izzymaybank @bubsonnobx @laylasbunbunny @cityofidek

#yes i'm still obsessed with this beautiful blond himbo #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #outer banks #outer banks netflix #obx #obx netflix #outer banks imagine #obx one shot #rudy pankow

[alakeeffectgirl]

cruisequarries PART TWO

PART ONE What did we get up to yesterday? 2018? Okay. I will put everything behind a spoiler cut again (there are more pictures/a video today).

Actually, let's rewind just a little, for some Fallout premiere pictures just because.

Paris, July 12th:

London, July 13th:

Seoul, July 16th (according to the designer's website, the hanbok Heather is wearing was designed as a wedding dress, mmhmm)...

I love this picture because they're making those faces at Chris. Here's the bit of Tom making Heather cry in Tokyo:

I highly recommend listening to Tom & Chris commentary track on Fallout, which starts with McQ introducing himself as the writer/director and then Tom introducing himself - as McQ's friend. After the Fallout press tour wraps up, work starts in earnest on Top Gun: Maverick, which Tom and McQ have been discussing - idly, on McQ's part - for years now. "Our relationship is one long conversation about movies," indeed.

While TGM is filming, pre-production is also happening on MI:DR, which McQ has signed on to direct. (These two are usually juggling at least two projects at a time, and really it's probably more like five projects at a time.)

In January of 2019, they're all back in LA so Tom and McQ can pick up some awards.

The McQuarries also go to a premiere and look fantastic (I love McQ's suit):

Tom and McQ go to Ukraine to scout Dead Reckoning locations later in 2019, meet President Zelenskyy, and McQ gets to put his arm around Tom for once instead of their usual other way around.

OH NO I ALMOST FORGOT - at the end of 2019, Tom took the whole McQ clan with him to Las Vegas to see Lady Gaga and ask her to write the TGM song. [cries in 'that's his family']

Production ramps up on DR - and then unfortunately, as we all know, COVID. Most of the cast and crew were in Venice when everything shut down, but Tom hadn't arrived yet.

Production resumes in Rome in October (their production struggles/trying to keep everyone employed/Tom rightfully yelling at people to follow protocols because a lot of jobs depend on them is all well documented), and then moves to Venice. Heather and the dogs are also part of this traveling band.

This isn't six feet apart, dudes...

Production breaks for the holidays, and resumes in Abi Dhabi for the airport/desert sequences, and also one of my favorite pictures of Tom and Heather, just for her expression.

Train sequence filming in Yorkshire in April of 2021, that's Heather in the blue coat:

DR production then breaks for a bit over the summer so Tom can take all his friends to Wimbledon, go to several car things, and make McQ watch football (the soccer version).

DR filming resumes in the fall/winter. Heather goes with to South Africa and they rent out what is basically an adults-only hotel (and save it from having to close!), for part of their stay. I love this picture because Gypsy looks so long-suffering:

OKAY IT'S 2022 NOW, time for the Top Gun: Maverick premiere tour to start - finally! (Do any of these people SLEEP? No. I think it's well-documented that Tom Cruise does not sleep, which is part of what makes him Tom Cruise, but also this means he calls McQ at two in the morning to talk about movies. There's a podcast somewhere where McQ says he thinks Tom might sleep "between the 2:05 email and the 2:40 email", or something along those lines.) (After getting back from South Africa, there was a bunch of test screening stuff for TGM, which is why there are those parking garage pictures. Wouldn't the movie be done, you'd think, since it was supposed to be out in 2020? COVID gave them a reason to tinker with it even more.) The San Diego premiere on the USS MIdway (all the McQs were there, but there aren't any good pictures):

Then Tom went to Mexico, and McQ went home to London for a few days before Tom returned, and they went to the Royal Windsor horse show together.

THEN EVERYONE WENT TO CANNES. Sorry I have just a shitty screencap with a watermark here but alas tumblr only lets you put one video per post. Tom and McQ stopped to get their picture taken en route to the actual photocall and Tom made Heather come back and be in the pictures with them. There is video here.

Cannes, of course, was amazing. I have garbage homemade gifs but they're too big for tumblr (also they're garbage) but all the Cannes red carpet footage is available on YouTube, here and here. (Worth it for Heather, tbh.)

They went straight from Cannes - on Tom's helicopter - back to London for the Royal premiere. Where the McQuarries looked amazing and McQ wore his McQ shoes.

And the after party, because heaven forbid they not all ride in the same car:

And then the McQuarries got a slight break, while Tom went to do more TGM press. But he was back in London by the end of June, and they went on what can only be described as a string of dates. First, they went to the Rolling Stones concert at Hyde Park.

McQ was on Tom's other side, but he's only visible in video (the Daily Mail might be garbage but they do come through with the media).

Then Tom and Heather went to The Eagles show at Hyde Park:

And they all went to see Adele - also at Hyde Park. (The woman in the pink sweater is Tom's CAA agent Maha Dakhil Jackson - I found the picture where you can see Heather over Tom's shoulder.)

Then for Tom's birthday, they went to the F1 British Grand Prix (with some other TGM folks, but they aren't three steps behind Tom like the McQuarries are).

Oh no, we're not done. Tom takes Heather to Wimbledon, where she holds his sunglasses (not visible in this picture).

McQ did not go with, as he was recording a Light the Fuse podcast - which he surprise-dialled in a bunch of DR folks - and his final surprise was Tom. Who was still at Wimbledon with Heather. McQ calls Heather to get Tom, and Heather plays dumb and is like, "oh I don't know where he is, did you try calling him?" and Chris says he already told the podcast guys that they were together. So Tom does his segment from the car he's in with Heather, and his part is only supposed to be like ten minutes but he talks for about forty-five and this includes telling the world they basically all live together. Then they went out to dinner!

And the next day they all went to Wimbledon with Maha and her husband.

I'm stopping here because this is already SO LONG and 2023 is going to be wild just by itself! PART THREE

#cruisequarries

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Fall, For You

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Your family didn’t really celebrate Halloween growing up, but Peter is about to change that by doing everything autumn with you 🧡🍁

Word count: ~5.2k

Warnings: Slightly spooky stuff at the beginning? Terrible Halloween puns. Some adorable fluff. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

A/N: I hope you all love this! It’s been a bit stop and go writing this, but it’s inspired by my own fall activities this year! I love autumn, Halloween, and chilly weather, so enjoy this domestic cuteness with Peter <3 As always, please let me know if you enjoyed it! I love hearing from you

The way the autumn sun beat down on you from the late afternoon sky should have been comforting in the chilling air, but a breeze brushed past you, leaving goosebumps in its wake and rustling the imposing stalks of corn surrounding you. As your head whipped around and around, you could have sworn Peter had just been right next to you, but the gravelly whispering of the corn and faraway talking of families traversing the maze were the only noises you heard.

“Peter?” you called, your voice falling flat into the air. No response.

You dug the toe of your shoe in the dirt, drawing a heart while you waited, hoping Peter had just fallen behind and was about to turn the corner. But as the stalks in front of you started swaying back and forth, something moving through them, your doodle washed away in the kicked-up dust you made as you backed away.

“Peter, is that you?” The words felt thin, straining on your vocal cords. Halloween wasn’t exactly your thing, but going to a corn maze doesn’t really count as a Halloween activity. You weren’t so sure anymore, though, as your back hit the other side of the path, the brittle ears poking against your body in sharp points.

“Boo!”

You watched a figure jump out from the corn, your muscles tense until his foot hit a rock and drawstring bag caught on a stalk, your mind having no doubt of who can be so clumsy. Peter bobbled something between his hands, and any fear that was in your body a second ago was replaced by laughter as your shoulders shook.

By the time he composed himself, you were able to see it was a bag of kettle corn in his outstretched arms, an embarrassed grin on his face. You grabbed the bag from him, unable to stop the laughs from escaping your mouth while turning away from Peter. Going on a surprise horror movie date was not initially part of your autumn plan. As you opened up the bag and took some, relishing in its sweet and salty taste, you said, “You know this is what you get for trying to scare me, right?”

Your feet carried you along the path, ready to keep going whether your boyfriend was keeping up, but you heard Peter scurrying along behind you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him scratching a hand along the back of his neck once he caught up. “I know… I meant it to be more of a surprise than a recreation of Children of the Corn. I’m sure you’re regretting making this list with me now.” Gesturing to the bag, he said, “But at least I got us a snack while we’re in here!”

You continued to crunch on the popcorn, motioning for him to take some. Peter, having heard your childhood experience with Halloween (or lack thereof), had decided to make a must-do list of Halloween/fall activities. It wasn’t that the holiday had somehow scarred you or left you with bad memories; it was just that your family never really got into it, so neither did you.

The list included going to an apple orchard, carving pumpkins, watching spooky movies, and everything that you usually enjoyed from a distance each autumn — like traversing a corn maze. 

Catching a glimpse of his mouth stuffed full, you said with a grin, “I didn’t know your surprises came with Texas Chainsaw Massacre recreations. Maybe skip the surprise party idea for my next birthday, please.” You nudged your elbow against his arm, hoping the brief touch conveyed that you were kidding and grateful for the snack.

“Hey, I’m just trying to get us in the spirit of things…” he said, a satisfied look on his face as his hand reached into the bag to grab some more.

Pursing your lips, you let out a tired hum. Corny (ugh) puns weren’t on your list either. “I didn’t know I was dating a vampire. Cause that sucked.”

A giggle escaped your mouth as Peter gasped, his hand clutching his chest. “Bubeleh! Mon cher! Mon amour, querido…” he declared, turning his body toward you and training his gaze on yours. “My darling. You drive a stake through my heart!”

He reached for your hand, pulling you in close, your head resting against his as laughs shook through you. Looking into his eyes, you said, “Peter, do you know you’re the most dramatic person ever?”

The breath of smile that graced his face outshined the sun’s warmth and erased any fear you’d had before – erased everything besides him for that brief moment. You’d had reservations about this list at first, already wiping your hands clean of Halloween at this point in your life. But as Peter kissed each of your knuckles, the warmth of his body infusing into your skin, you knew you’d follow him anywhere. Match your pace with his and spend a lifetime unraveling his mind and soul to see the world from his beautiful point of view, even if that included his corniness.

His eyes seemed to unfocus as his lips traveled up, eventually finding yours. Every movement was slow, how his mouth moved against you and the way his hand crept down your back. Your body pressed tight against him, threading your fingers into the hair sticking out from his hat.

A deep breath filled your lungs, your mind fuzzy as it inhaled the earthy smell of Peter and the feeling of his body against yours. But before you got too lost in the spell Peter seemed to always put you under, you felt a pinch on your butt, a yelp escaping your mouth.

“Peter!” You whisper-yelled at him, swatting his chest. The boyish smirk on his face matched your own, making you feel like stupid teenagers again.

He just grabbed your “attacking” hand, swinging your arms back and forth as you began walking again. “You still love me though.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Sometimes I think you love my ass more than you love me, though.”

“Well, your ass…” he said, bringing his hand to rest in the back pocket of your pants, “never called me dramatic or said that my jokes suck.”

With a laugh, you said, “You’re lucky I love kettle corn, or I’d be throwing this all over you.” You grabbed another handful before letting Peter have some, your feet walking in step together as you traversed the corn maze.

“I love you.”

A gentler breeze pushed past, bringing you closer to Peter.

“I love you too.”

By the time the two of you found the exit, not that you were studying the map very closely, the sun had started its dipping journey toward the horizon. You’d already had plenty of apple and pumpkin flavored drinks and junk food, picked some apples for home, and Peter even convinced you to ride the giant slide. Your constant giggles were lost to the wind whipping past you, but the wide grin on your face was unmistakable, even if Peter had beat you to the bottom first.

You strolled along the pumpkin patch at the end of the day, the sounds of families and vendors a bit quieter now. The wafting smells of the concession stands still filled the air, lingering and mixing with the distinct scent of autumn. Your hands turned pumpkins this way and that to find a good one when Peter came up next to you, his arms wrapping around your body. His chest held your back as you swayed side to side.

“Find anything good?” he asked, his cheek coming to rest against yours.

“Peter, I don’t know what a good pumpkin for carving looks like,” you laughed out. “I’m basically just admiring them.”

“Hmm… let's get these two.” He pointed to two medium-sized pumpkins in front of you, both having a few bumps on them and leaning to the side, but they didn’t look too bad to your limited knowledge.

Turning your head, you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Why those two?”

His arms squeezed you tighter. “Because you’re cold, and those were the first ones I saw. Let’s get you back in the car.”

Your jaw dropped just a bit before saying, “We can’t just get any old pumpkins for my first carving!” You crossed your arms. “And I’m not that cold…”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his arms releasing you. You tried to hide the way your body missed the heat of his already. Peter shrugged off the drawstring bag from his back, pulling out a thick piece of clothing. “Here, put on your sweater.”

“I’m fine. I already have my flannel,” you said, fingers coming to play with the red flannel hugging your body. Of course, none of that stopped him from thrusting the sweater toward you again.

When you didn’t budge, he raised your arms up and started putting the sweater on you himself. Your lips pressed tight when the warmth of it felt nice on your skin, its softness not too far off from the feeling in your chest for Peter at the moment. As he straightened it out here and there, he said, “I don’t want to brag or anything, but I happen to know my incredible, but very stubborn, girlfriend pretty well.” His eyes softened when he looked at you, his gaze seeming to take all of you in. “I brought the sweater for you to wear when you got cold.

He wrapped his hand in yours and said, “And… if you knew your boyfriend, the love of your life, your true love, you’d know that I didn’t bring any sweater for me – I get way too warm no matter what I do.”

You stopped the giggle rising in your throat to let out a gasp this time, mimicking him from earlier. “Are you implying that I don’t know the moon and stars of my life?” At Peter’s laugh, you continued, “I just thought you were trying to blend in as a normal person with a normal body temperature, but I see that didn’t work.”

“Hey, someone has to take over your role as the hot one in this relationship,” he said, giving you a cheesy wink.

Ready to be done with his puns, you agreed on bringing home those pumpkins. Peter heaved them onto his shoulders with ease and carried them to checkout and the car, not hiding his incredible strength as much as you would’ve liked. But you just trailed alongside him, other goodies in hand.

After loading up the car and taking your seats, you rested your head on his shoulder. A long exhale left your lungs, wondering whether missing out on Halloween as a kid was that bad when it meant spending a whole season living like this.

--

“People do this for fun?!”

A few days later, you sat on your newspaper-covered floor in some old sweats, plunging a knife into the top of your pumpkin. By the time you’d carved out the lid, your muscles ached from cutting through the pumpkin’s thick skin— of course messing up a few times and having to redo it again and again.

Your tired arms then reached inside. A couple of handfuls of slimy pumpkin “guts” is what led to your outburst, your mind a bit confused as to why people enjoyed this mess.

“Yeah… I can’t really blame you for thinking that,” Peter said, the back of his hand coming to wipe away stray pumpkin on his cheek. A borrowed headband laid on his head, pushing his messy hair back and away from his face. “But, most of the time, they turn out beautiful. Like you.”

A small smile creeped onto your face as you said, “Did you just compare my beauty to a carved pumpkin?”

Peter, a bit a head of you, put his marker down and looked between his pumpkin and you. Clicking his tongue, he pondered, “Yeah, I’m definitely seeing a resemblance.”

When you tried peeking over at his design, he turned it away from you, hiding it against his body. “Hey! No cheating!”

You shook your head at him, going back to emptying the pumpkin. Once you scraped enough out, you fixed the lid back on and grabbed a book of carving stencils Peter had picked up. Flipping through, you stopped on one in particular, a grin spreading from ear to ear.

“Sweetheart, I’m not sure I like that look.” You lifted your head at Peter’s voice, seeing his raised eyebrows. But since two could play at this game, you tore the page from the book and held it close as you taped it onto the pumpkin.

You didn’t have to peek over at him to know what his face looked like when a sigh came from his direction.

The two of you worked in a comfortable silence accompanied by a playlist of spooky and Halloween-themed songs. Your wrist started to ache after a bit, but you kept going until the final section was cut through and fell away.

As a proud smile grew and you did a little dance back and forth, Peter said, “I take it you’re done then?”

“Yep,” you said, popping the “p” as you wiped away any debris. “And I think it definitely bears resemblance to you as well.”

Letting out a snort, he grabbed the candles to put inside (electric so you didn’t burn anything down, because you could absolutely not afford it). You took it from his outstretched palm, making sure he didn’t catch a glimpse of your design.

He settled on one side of the dinner table while you stood at the other. “Okay, you ready?” he asked. At your nodding, he said, “One, two… three!”

His hands grabbed the sides of his pumpkin as you grabbed yours, spinning them around at the same time.

“Really?” Peter groaned, his face unamused. You’d found a relatively easy template to work with, one of a cute little spider sitting in the corner of a web. “That’s a bit on the nose, don’t ya think?”

You widened your eyes, giving him an innocent look. “I think you two are twins.” Your finger pointed at his pumpkin, your other hand coming to rest on your hip as you studied the design. “And how exactly do I resemble Jack Skellington, Peter?”

He had carved the face of The Pumpkin King, quite well you observed. You two had just watched The Nightmare Before Christmas last week, Peter singing along to all the songs while you both drank mugs of hot apple cider.

“Well…” he started, his top teeth digging into his bottom lip to stop from smiling, “I wouldn’t mind boning you, darling. Y’know, like a skeleton.”

“Yes, I get it.” Rubbing a hand down your face, mostly to cover the creeping smile, you asked, “Did you spend all night thinking of that one?”

Peter came around, grabbing one pumpkin in each arm and walking toward the door. “C’mon, let’s go look at them outside.”

Your mouth twisted, very aware that his lack of an answer probably meant “yes.” Following him outside onto the front porch, your feet padded against the wood, your skin chilling in the air.

As soon as he set them on the porch ledge, you snuggled up into his side, bringing his arm around your shoulder. Your designs flickered into the dark night side by side, surrounded by the few orange and black decorations you had put up out here.

You felt the deep inhale and exhale of Peter’s breath, the only noise to accompany the sounds of a distant owl. He squeezed your arm, his fingers rubbing back and forth along your skin. Maybe all this was worth the pumpkin guts.

--

Like all the other activities on the list, Peter had come up with this idea — to go out and have a little fall photoshoot. You weren’t one to volunteer yourself as a model, but you were weak once he had brought out his camera and the puppy dog eyes.

You’d put together a nice fall outfit, complete with a thick cardigan of course. Peter himself wore a hooded flannel that made him look like autumn and home brought to life — which made you hesitate for a second on planning to “borrow” it at some point, but only a second. 

He drove you out to a park a little north, the two of you holding hands as you walked through. Families and couples sat around on the grass or throwing a ball around, but Peter led you farther back as the growth got a bit thicker.

After a few minutes, the conversations of people growing quieter, you walked into a small clearing. You were surrounded by a canopy of fiery reds, yellows, and oranges as the trees swayed back and forth in the wind. You’d never really taken a silent moment to just watch the world change as it got colder.

You were admiring the beautiful ceiling of leaves above you when a click sounded from behind. Turning, you saw Peter with his camera in his hands and a smile plastered on his face.

“Hey, I didn’t know we were starting already!” You crossed your arms, but he answered with more clicks of his camera.

“I’m an artist, sweetheart. Don’t question my methods.” He walked around you, trying to get good angles you assumed, but the attention felt a bit stifling.

“Peter, I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, where do I put my arms?” you asked, flopping your arms against your side.

He lowered his camera, his eyes connecting with yours. You let out a huff as he walked toward you, your body feeling awkward and unsure of what he wanted you to do.

As he got close, he raised his hands to your face, fingers curving around your jaw and cheeks. His breath came out just above a whisper, his nose brushing yours. “I only want to take beautiful pictures, so just be yourself. Okay?”

Your warm cheeks felt nice in the chilly air, your chest blooming as you turned your head away from his gaze. At your hesitation, he pulled away and brought the camera strap up over his head, putting it over yours instead.

“Here, take some of me first,” he said, cupping his hands around yours, bringing them to wrap along the camera and placing your finger on the button. He gave your hands a final squeeze before backing up near the edge of the trees.

Peter made a bunch of funny poses, sticking his tongue out and flexing just to make you laugh. And it worked, some of the pictures probably coming out blurry from your shoulders shaking. Your grin slowly lowered when he turned to actually posing, leaning against a tree or sitting on a rock surrounded by the beautiful leaves.

You never ceased to be surprised by Peter’s looks, somehow always being caught off guard by how angelic he looked. He wasn’t always confident, but with the air he carried about himself these days, it was hard to keep your breathing even when he looked like this. Each of the warm autumn colors surrounding you two made his eyes look so intense, you welcomed the separation of the camera between your bodies.

Hoisting himself up, he trotted over to you, his cheesy smile right back on his face. His hand reached out to grab the camera, lifting it over your head as he said, “Got any good ones? Hope you captured my ‘Blue Steel’ look. I’ve been practicing.”

“Oh, I got it. That one’s going right above our bed.” Your giggles joined his along with the sound of birds chittering in the branches above. Before you could distract him anymore, he pointed with his head, motioning for you to pose as he did.

Pursing your lips, you backed away from him, steps moving slow as they dragged among the fallen leaves and dirt. Swallowing any awkwardness itching in your stomach, you stood and smiled for the pictures Peter took of you. You moved around, trying little differences to see if they felt any more natural. As you leaned against the same tree that Peter did, your smile grew just a tiny bit at feeling the warmth he left behind.

Though it comforted you, he must’ve still seen your apprehension because, still with his face behind the camera, he said, “Hey sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

He lowered the camera to show you his dumb Blue Steel impression again, pouty lips and all. You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but a wide grin broke across your face, your eyes shutting for a second as your cheeks squished high. More clicks sounded into the air, but you were laughing too much to care.

Peter grabbed a few more photos before motioning for you to come back toward him while he kneeled to put his camera away in his bag. Fidgeting with your fingers, you asked, “So, how’d I do?”

Looking up at you, the softest look gracing his features, he stood and grabbed your hands. He brought them to wrap around his neck and let go, bringing his to rest on your waist. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever photographed.”

“Peter…” you said, your words mumbled as you curled against him.

He brought his head up, looking past you as he declared, “I know you’re usually the right one in this relationship, but not today. Let me bask in this moment of being 100% correct for once.”

You just shook your head, your cheek brushing along his body. “Fine, I’ll let you have this one. But only if we watch The Addams Family when we get home.” A beat of silence passed. “And drink hot chocolate. With whipped cream!”

Peter barked out a laugh, his rumbling chest shaking your body. “Easiest decision I’ve ever made, darling. Besides loving you, of course.”

You snuggled in closer to him one more time before pulling away, wanting to walk through the park a bit more before it got dark. Your hand, wrapping in his, swung back and forth as your feet crunched on the leaves littering your path. You let out a whispered, “I love you too.”

--

You adjusted just slightly the heavy wig resting on your head, removing your hands slowly as to not mess anything up while stepping back, admiring yourself in the mirror.

The blonde wig, scattered with pastel flowers throughout the braid, hung down to your legs. As you turned this way and that, it swung through the air, brushing past the purple dress that went past your knees.

A sing-song voice came from the hallway, its comforting tone bringing a smile to your face. “Is my Rapunzel ready?”

Peter appeared in the doorway, crossing his arms as he leaned against its frame, his eyes never leaving you. His hair was swooped back, complementing the blue vest and tall boots he wore.

“As ready as she’ll ever be, Flynn Rider,” you said, giggling as he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your back.

As he kissed your forehead, you let out a soft sigh. “Are you sure we’re allowed to do this?” you asked, your stomach turning in on itself.

Peter’s final item on the list, on a Halloween-themed notepad hung up on the fridge, read “Go trick-or-treating” in his scribbled handwriting. As you were both adults, a pit had been building inside you as the days got closer — would people even be okay with this? Would they just laugh at you?

“Say no to the prettiest person they’ve ever seen? No way,” he said, leaning in ever closer. “And if they do, a certain friendly neighbor may have to pay a visit. Add some cobwebs here and there…”

You pulled back, your jaw slightly ajar. “Peter!” You are not being very responsible with your great power.”

With a laugh, he said, “Come on!” and pulled you away from the mirror and toward the front door. He handed you a spare pillow case to hold all your candy (he said it was more authentic this way than buying a trick or treat bag from the store).

A deep breath filled your lungs as you stepped outside, Peter ushering you through like charming Flynn himself. The chilling air pricked at your throat, but as you walked past your flickering jack o’ lanterns with Peter right by your side, it didn’t feel all that cold anymore.

The night, illuminated by house lights and the last glimpses of the setting sun, was filled with running kids and their trailing parents going from house to house. An instant smile found its way on your face, loving the range from cowboys and dragons to home-made costumes to even a few Spider-Man suits.

Peter grabbed your hand, taking you to a side street that had a little bit less traffic, and they weren’t your direct neighbors seeing you trick-or-treating as an adult, which you were thankful for.

Walking up to the first house had your heart pounding in your throat all the way down to your feet. You were certain he could hear its frantic pace. Looking back, Peter was only a few steps behind you, motioning you to ring their doorbell. He gave a thumbs up and toothy smile fit for his costume.

You nodded, almost imperceptibly, as your fingers reached out, just barely pressing the doorbell. You heard it ring, muffled inside, and saw a moving figure obscured through the windows.

As the door opened, a middle-aged man appeared, a large pumpkin-themed bowl of candy in hand. His face, neutral for a moment, scanned the two of you before his eyes trained behind you.

Swallowing hard, your crackling voice said, “Trick or treat?” You held out the pillow case, fingernails picking at the stitching as you waited.

When his gaze returned to you, he had a warm smile and said, “Of course!” As he dropped some candy into your bag, he said, “And a few extra for the princess.” He gave you a few more pieces of candy before you said thank you, letting Peter get his fill.

The man shut the door as you two walked down the pathway back to the street, your pillow cases just a bit heavier now. Walking in step, he wrapped an arm around your waist. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You leaned your head against him, letting out a quiet hum. “It was a bit scary at first, though I guess that’s what Halloween is all about,” you joked. “And we have candy now, so it was worth it.”

Peter let out a laugh and squeezed your hand before letting you ring the next house’s doorbell. Each house still made you chew on the inside of your cheek or fidget, but it got easier as the night went on and the moon rose higher.

Toward one of the remaining houses left in the neighborhood, you were greeted by an older woman. With squinting eyes and a bucket full of king-sized candy bars, she said, “Oh, aren’t you two so adorable!”

You turned back to look at Peter, wanting him next to you like a proper prince and princess, but you saw him holding his phone up. You read the large, typed-out words he was holding up on his phone, the text reading “First time trick or treating!” with an arrow pointing toward you.

You were certain his wide eyes matched your own, both of you too stunned at that moment to say anything. Only the weight of a few heavy pieces of candy landing inside your case brought your attention back to the woman. You gave a closed smile to her own grinning face, saying your thanks before letting Peter come forward.

As you two walked back to the street, you saw his raised shoulders and cringing face from the corner of your eye. He said, “Darling… Mon cher, love of my life, my Rapunzel…”

“Yes, Eugene Fitzherbert?” you replied, using his character’s real name. You weren’t upset with him, mostly shocked that he did this and didn’t tell you.

“I thought people would be a little nicer if they knew it was your first time trick-or-treating, ‘s’all.” He adjusted his costume this way and that, letting out a sharp breath.

You snorted out a small laugh. “I mean, it’s not really my first time. I went with friends a few times, but I was pretty young,” you explained, your words coming out rambling.

“Well I can’t really write all that on my phone, now can I?” He said, hints of sarcasm and joking laced in his voice.

Laughing, you said, “I guess not. You’re a bit sassy, but thank you, Peter.” His smug grin turned soft and grabbed your hand.

His pace quickened as you approached home, his boyish giggling ringing into the night. Opening the door, he pulled you inside and sat you both down in the living room. Your heart felt happy at his excitement, and you weren’t sure anymore who this was for.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes raised expectantly at you.

You took off the heavy wig and nodded furiously, holding your heavy pillow case high up. As he said, “Go!” you tipped it over and watched a heaving pile of candy build in front of you.

Peter began organizing all of them, putting Snickers here, Skittles there, so you did the same, feeling a childish fun fill you.

“Ready to trade?” he asked, still looking around at the different stacks.

You’d never traded candy so seriously before, but he looked determined as he asked. “Uh, sure?”

Grabbing a handful of candy, Peter said, “Okay, how about two Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for two of your Kit Kat’s?”

Taken aback, you put a hand to your chest. “I might be a little inexperienced in all this, but I am not clueless. Those are full-sized Kit Kat’s — you’re getting one for two Reese’s cups.”

Peter pursed his lips, eyebrows scrunching together. As he looked around, he said, “Okay Rapunzel. You drive a hard bargain. I’ll throw in a pack of M&M’s too.”

You pretended to think for a bit, resting your finger against your chin. Only when you saw his unamused look did you give in, not that you were too worried. You’d be mixing candy together by tomorrow anyway. “Fine, you have a deal.”

His face broke out in excitement, his hands quickly coming forward across the piles to make the exchange. You went back and forth like this for a bit before you couldn’t stare any longer and dug into your treasure of candy.

It wasn’t until halfway through Hocus Pocus, the two of you in pajamas and surrounded by discarded candy wrappers, that you turned to look up at Peter, your head laying on his chest, and whispered, “Thank you, for everything.”

He looked at you, his eyes soft and smile gentle as the now forgotten movie cast dancing shadows across his face. “Yeah, ‘course,” he said, never taking his gaze off of you. “I just remember my parents taking me around, and then May and Ben. They always made sure I got to experience what all the other kids did, and I loved it, so I thought someone should do that for you too.”

You nodded along, unable to stop the way the corners of your eyes stung at his words. You already couldn’t wait for next year, having no doubt it’d make you just as happy as this Halloween. Leaning into him even more, you gave a tight-lipped smile, unable to keep the emotion from your voice. “They definitely taught you well, Peter.”

@reidslovely​​​

Thank you again for reading! Please let me know your thoughts, questions, etc. Love you all <3

#Peter Parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #autumn #fall #peter parker x fem!reader #the amazing spider man #peter parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x you

[theoncelee]

Hi! @galactickles so sorry this is super duper late (seriously please don’t hate me, or do, it’s May I wouldn’t blame you) but I was your Squealing Santa!! Thank you @hypahticklish for orchestrating it this year. I know people usually do just Christmas stuff for these, but I’m half Jewish and wanted to write about both holidays because I love them both so much. Hope that’s ok :)

Again I’m so sorry 😭😭 I’m a horrible person

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Logince (romantic)

Warnings: This is a tickle fic. Some capital text. Other than that nothing this is pure fluff.

Summary: High School AU where Roman and Logan are around 16/17 and dating. Roman is Christian and Logan is Jewish. The two decide to spend December showing each other what’s great about their respective holidays. Chaos and tickling ensues.

Merry Chanukkah

Roman and Logan had only been dating for only around six months when winter rolled around. The second the clock struck midnight on November 1st Roman was in full Christmas mode. Christmas was his all time favorite holiday, how could it not be? There were presents, and loud decorations, and cuddling by the fire, and hot cocoa, and the people he loved most. But his favorite person in the whole wide world, his boyfriend Logan, was Jewish. So he didn’t even celebrate Christmas! He’d probably never even had a proper Christmas, and wasn’t that a sad thought to be having at midnight. So Roman resolved that this year he was gonna make Logan experience Christmas. All the good non-religious bits, anyways. Christmas had never really been about God for Roman anyways. He more enjoyed the family and community aspect of it all.

Unfortunately, both Logan and Roman were absolutely swamped with schoolwork and activities for the entirety of November. Roman was starring in the fall play, and Logan was working hard with his team to get their phenomenal rubber band car ready for the Physics Olympics. Between their busy schedules and Thanksgiving, the two barely even saw each other. Come December, however, a rejuvenated Roman set his plan into action: Operation Make-Logan-Experience-Christmas.

Step one: Decorate the house.

On December 3rd, Roman invited Logan over with no explanation. When Logan pulled into Roman’s driveway he was surprised to find the guy looking extremely frustrated as he furiously attempted to untangle a massive string of lights.

“Ro? What’s going on? Are you ok?” Logan inquired as he exited his car. Roman dropped the lights, a huge smile blooming on his face,

“Hey! You made it! I’m just trying-and failing-to untangle these lights…haha. I wanted to show you all the joys of Christmas since, yknow, you’re Jewish and all. So I figured we could decorate my house together and then drink cocoa?” Logan huffed out a small laugh. His boyfriend was adorable.

“Sure”, he replied with a grin, “Hand me the lights”. He then proceeded to untangle them in one smooth motion, smirking when Roman’s jaw hit the floor.

As the hours wore on, the work was getting agonizingly slow. Especially for Logan who didn’t understand the point of putting lights on the house to begin with. It wasn’t practical; why were they doing it? So, when Roman stretched up to wrap a string of lights around a tree branch, Logan quickly wiggled two fingers in each of Roman’s underarms, eliciting a small shriek. Roman immediately whipped around, light pink dusting his cheeks.

“Dohon’t”, he giggled, voice wavering slightly. See, Logan didn’t get mischievous often, he found it childish. But, well, he was really bored. And maybe Roman was cute when he was tickled or whatever, shut up. Roman tentatively reached up again, and again he he found tickling fingers in his underarms, forcing him to slam his arms down with a squeal. The cycle continued a couple more times before Roman finally whipped around and tackled Logan, squeezing his sides with vigor.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ROHOHOHOMAN PLEEHEEHEEASE IHIM SOHORRY STAAHAHAHAAP”, he squealed.

“All right, all right,” Roman relented, “but only because we need to finish these decorations”. And as much as Logan hated to admit it, the decorations did end up pretty great in the end. They were loud and obnoxious and garish and PERFECT. This whole Christmas thing was actually pretty fun, and Logan thought the concept of Roman showing him his favorite parts of the holiday was pretty cute. And that’s what sparked Logan’s newest idea: Operation-Make-Roman-Experience-Chanukkah.

Which is how Roman found himself at Logan’s house on December 18, the first night of Chanukkah. Roman honestly didn’t know much about the holiday, so he was pretty excited. Logan’s family, of course, were delighted to have Roman over. Logan’s grandparents, although not fully understanding that the two boys were dating, were supportive and excited regardless. Roman watched as Logan’s dad lit the shammash with a fire stick and Logan got to light the first candle. Not being religious or motivated enough to actually dig out the yamaka’s, all the male family members simply placed a hand on their heads as Logan’s grandfather recited a prayer. Roman didn’t understand a word of the Hebrew, but he enthusiastically exclaimed “Amen!” with everyone else at the end. The family then sat down for dinner, where Roman proclaimed latkes to be his new favorite food and then proceeded to eat half the platter. After an incredible dinner, they sat on the floor for a rousing game of dreidel. Barely 10 minutes in Roman was losing quite spectacularly. Logan’s grandfather was winning again; no one could quite figure out how he always won a game entirely based on luck. Logan himself had quite a sizeable stack of chocolate gelt in front of him. And maybe Roman was feeling a bit mischievous, sue him. So he sneakily-not-so sneakily stole Logan’s stack of the biggest coins and slid it over to his meager pile. Logan merely gave Roman a side-eye and stole the coins back, but the glint in him eye told him Roman was SO getting it later.

And get it he did, because as soon as Roman and Logan were able to sneak away to Logan’s room, out of earshot from the adults downstairs, Logan wasted no time in pinning Roman to the bed.

“Eheheheh what?” Roman questioned.

“You stole from me. Now it’s time to pay” Logan replied dramatically whilst wiggling his fingers in the air. Romans eyes widened comically at the sight,

“You wouldn’t”.

“Oh I would”. With that Roman burst into laughter, which was only strange for one reason: Logan hadn’t actually started tickling him yet, which sent the shorter man into a flurry of giggles himself,

“ihi hahaven’t eheven tohouched you yehet”.

“Shut up” came the embarrassed reply.

“I’m gonna count to 10”, Logan proclaimed, much to Roman’s horror.

“1”

“nonono wait please don’t”

“2”

“Logan wait please I gave it back”

“3”

“It was a joke! I didn’t mean it! Please I’m sorry!”

“10.”

And with that, Roman couldn’t say much else as he had quickly descended into hysterics as Logan dug mercilessly into Roman’s ribs. He couldn’t even complain that Logan had skipped 4 5 6 7 8 and 9. That didn’t stop Logan from talking, however.

“Aww does that tickle? Is my Prince just sooo ticklish he can’t even handle just a few tickles on his wittle ribs?”

“I bet you’re sorry now. Was my gelt really worth this?”

“Can you stop laughing? I’m trying to talk to you. how rude!”

Roman meanwhile was dying as fingers were now spidering all over his tummy, leaving the poor boy in stitches.

“This will not end until you apologize for the stolen goods”

“Nehehever”

“Fine. I guess I’ll have to use drastic measures”. Logan’s hands began steadily creeping back up, awakening Roman’s ribs from their much deserved nap. They didn’t stop there however, a terrifying fact that Roman was coming to realize.

“No no no nohot there nohot there pleaheahease” he babbled helplessly, “I cahan’t tahake ihihit”

“Aww, but I thought you liked this Ro. Any last words?”

“Fuck you!” And those truly were his last words for awhile as Logan wormed his hands into Roman’s underarms and vibrated his fingers like ticklish shockwaves pulsing into Roman’s core. Roman was in the clouds. He couldn’t feel his surroundings and his eyes were squeezed shut. He could barely hear his own hysterical laughter over the deafening buzz of fire in his nerves. He couldn’t comprehend anything besides how much it tickled. The sensation blurred reality until he found himself wishing it would last forever while simultaneously needing it to stop that second. It was like oxygen that suffocated. He couldn’t stand it, but he needed it, more than he ever thought he’d need anything. But the feeling was quickly approaching “suffocating”. Fortunately, it suddenly stopped. Reality rushed back through him. Dull tingles racing through his body, soft sheets under him, warm and grounding Logan on top of him. Hands were on his face, in his hair, making sure he was okay.

“Thanks..Logi. That was- fuck”

“Anytime Ro” Logan smiled softly before slipping back into his “mad” voice,

“That’ll teach you not to steal from the great professor!”

“Oh yeah?” Roman questioned as he picked himself off the bed and switched their positions with admittedly little resistance from his boyfriend.

“I think you’ve got a lesson of your own to learn teach.” He said before lowering his voice to a low whisper,

“No-one messes with the prince and makes it out unscathed” And then Logan was in hysterics as the tables turned, fingers on his neck, his ears, his sides all tickling with too much vigor for someone who’d just been tickled to hysterics themselves. The sensations were simultaneously too much and too little, altogether overstimulating while his body kept craving more, more, more as he leaned into the touch instead of away, a fact which Roman was all too eager to point out.

“Aww enjoying yourself there Logi-bear? Is the great professor enjoying his wittle tickles?”

“NO! I HAHAHATE YOUHOUHOO”

“Do you now? I’m not hearing a stop~” At that Logan fell silent because truthfully he was enjoying the affection from his boyfriend. That’s what the holidays were about, after all. Not candles, or decorations, or silly games with spinning tops and chocolate. They were about creating silly memories with the people you love the most. And as he was laughing himself horse, Logan hoped Roman would be there to make these memories with him for many more Christmases and Chanukkahs to come. Because Roman brought happiness and laughter into Logan’s life. And Logan didn’t want to stop laughing for a long time. And so he wouldn’t. ;)

I hope this is okay writing wise. I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing my best.

Again I am so so so so fucking sorry uhhh happy Easter? Memorial Day I guess?? I’m so mad at myself for this I procrastinated way too long I don’t even have a good excuse anymore.

#tickle fic #my fics #December in May I guess #lee!logan #lee!roman #ler!logan #ler!roman #switch!logan #switch!roman #sandersides tickle #logince #logince tickle

[captain-mj]

Hi! Happy holidays! I was wondering if you could write head cannons about spending the holidays or new years with (separately) Ghost, Roach, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy, and Valeria? Or just Roach!

No worries if you don't but please and thank you! Happy holidays! Stay safe!

Happy Holidays! Wasn't sure if you wanted this in a partner way or not, so left it a bit vague.

Ghost: Christmas is not great. Gets drunk. Puts flowers on his family's graves. In theory, he would love to join the Christmas parties and stuff, but he gets really angry and frustrated on that day and he doesn't want to make anyone deal with that on a day that's supposed to be happy.

New year's on the other hand! Pops champagne. Ironically enjoys making new years resolutions. Doesn't kiss because of the mask.

Roach: Avoids almost all organized christmas things like parades and such, but loves looking at christmas lights. Can be coaxed into drinking eggnog, will get super drunk by accident but just falls asleep if he does. Enjoys little traditions and will leave out cookies for Santa and sneak in later to eat them despite the fact that he could just eat them as soon as they're done.

Makes new years resolutions with Ghost. They hold each other to it so both of them usually accomplish their stuff. Watches the countdown and everything. Will kiss whoever wants doesn't have a partner at midnight if he's single. Insists on doing it if he's dating someone.

Soap: Pajama king. Gets everyone matching sets and insists they all hang out. East an absurd amount of food. Brings traditional scottish food and makes everyone try it (majority of people end up liking it. He's smug.) Thoughtful gift giver.

Also big into the kissing part. Doesn't care that much for the countdown, but if its on, he'll pay attention. Cares the most about the fireworks, but gets that a lot of people on base are sensitive to the loud noises. Has the bright idea to get everyone headphones to block out the noise for Christmas so they can all see the fireworks. Best New Years a lot of them have had.

Alejandro: Goes to midnight mass. Probably tries pretty hard to decorate but the man is Colonel, he's busy. Will let anyone who volunteers decorate though. Has tons of decorations just around.

Has dinner with anyone he's close to (partner, family, coworkers) on New Years. Very easy to get to dance.

Rudy: He makes everyone pancakes morning of and is one of those people that insists everyone be up before you can open presents. He makes a mean cup of cocoa/whatever seasonal drink you want to inset here because he's probably good at making that too. Definitely watches a lot of Christmas movies while wearing fluffy socks.

Big into the idea of the new year, new me thing. Since he's not close to his family, he'll go dancing if invited. Probably gets a bit tipsy. Dances very well and is more than willing to dance with anyone who wants to be his partner. Kisses at midnight are almost a guarantee.

Valeria: This bitch DECORATES. Poinsettias are everywhere. She has all that cartel money so its nice as hell. The only one of the group that will do really untraditional color pallets.

Throws a party. Will kiss her partner and only her partner at midnight.

#cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare ii #Simon Ghost Riley #Johnny Soap MacTavish #Alejandro Vargas #Rodolfo Parra #Valeria Garza #Cod #Call of Duty Modern Warfare

[carewyncromwell]

"Consider yourself at home! Consider yourself one of the family! We've taken to you so strong, It's clear we're going to get along!"

~"Consider Yourself" from Oliver!

x~x~x~x

Behold! Here I issue a prompt to fellow HPHM players -- write a post featuring at least one (1) letter either received or sent by Molly Weasley about your MC, whether one sent by or to Bill, Charlie, Percy, or another one of her kids! If you accept this challenge, please consider tagging me so I and others can learn a bit more about your kid's relationship with our favorite ginger family! ❤️💛🩵💚

x~x~x~x

Molly Weasley was a very doting mother. Although it was understandably quite difficult to pay all seven of her children equal amounts of attention, that didn't mean she didn't try very hard to be active in all of their lives or that she didn't insist that her kids who were away at Hogwarts write to her frequently. The child who was best at keeping in touch with Molly was her oldest, Bill, but after Charlie started attending school, he wrote home relatively frequently too, thanks in large part to Bill reminding him to do so.

One of Charlie's longest letters that first year ended up being one Molly kept long after the fact. At first the Weasley matriarch kept it solely for her own reference, in case she needed to write a stern letter to Albus Dumbledore herself, but she later kept it as a memento of the very first time she ever heard the name of the girl who would become her two oldest sons' closest friend.

Mum -- You'll never BELIEVE what happened at school today! I'm just about to breathe fire about it, I'm so angry!! Okay, so you remember Ben Copper, right? He's my Muggle-born dormmate, the one who's afraid of everything. Well, lately he's been getting bullied really bad by this one girl in Slytherin named Merula Snyde. I reckon she was just being nasty because the winter holidays are coming up and all of her usual bullying targets will be going home soon, but she decided to go out of her way to corner Ben in the Courtyard today, yelling all sorts of rotten stuff at him at the top of her lungs and just refusing to let him walk away. Ben told Jae, Corey, and me afterwards a bit more of what was said, since I didn't hear all of it, but Merula said Ben didn't belong here at school with "real" wizards and called him a loser and a scaredy cat who didn't belong in Gryffindor because all he does is run away! She even called him a Mudblood, Mum! Multiple times! Fortunately right around the time Jae and I showed up, someone decided to put a stop to it. Her name's Carewyn Cromwell -- she's another Slytherin in my year, but a much nicer one than Merula. (She's Jacob Cromwell's sister, do you remember him? Bill said you and Dad read about him in the Prophet a while back, right after he disappeared.) Anyhow, Carewyn went right up to Merula and told her to leave Ben alone, and when Merula used the Knockback Jinx on Ben, Carewyn helped him up and then laid Merula out right good, saying that she was the real "loser," not Ben, and calling her a pathetic, mean-spirited bully. That really made Merula mad -- I've never seen her face so purple! So Merula tried to pick a fight with Carewyn, and Carewyn tried to just walk away with Ben, only for Merula to attack Carewyn from behind! She knocked her down face-first into the ground, with no warning! It was just dirty, Mum! But Carewyn, she was so cool, she just took some Wiggenweld Potion out of her sweater, drank enough to heal herself, and then chucked the bottle right at Merula's head like she was at the Dueling Club! (It missed, but it still gave Merula a good scare!) Then when Merula tried to attack her again, Carewyn dodged her spell and took her out with a single Disarming Charm! It was so cool! Oh, but here's what made me mad, Mum -- afterward, Professor Snape took FIFTY POINTS away from both Carewyn and Merula for "causing a scene" and said that he'd send them both along to Dumbledore for further punishment! Yeah! When it was OBVIOUSLY all Merula's doing and Carewyn was only defending herself and Ben! I checked on Ben afterward, and he looked close to tears. He's terrified that Carewyn's going to be expelled, all because she was trying to protect him. I told him no way Dumbledore would do that, but Snape was so furious, I wouldn't put it past him to lie through his ugly yellow teeth about the whole thing and get Carewyn expelled anyway! I know that's what he really wants -- everyone knows Snape hates Carewyn because of what her brother did, even though she honestly seems like a pretty cool person and a really good friend! Dumbledore won't be back until tomorrow, but I'm going to go up to his office as soon as he's back and tell him all about what happened -- there's no way he can expel Carewyn for what she did! She was brave and in the right, and she should've won points for standing up for Ben, instead of losing any! She would've, if she'd been in Gryffindor! It's not fair!! I'll write again after talking to Dumbledore...he'd better not listen to a word Snape says!! Love to you, Dad, and PFGRG -- Charlie

Fortunately Carewyn was not punished further, so Molly never had to send that additional letter to Dumbledore she'd been considering. She ended up revisiting this old letter of Charlie's again, though, when that following winter, Bill sent her another letter.

Dear Mum, The holidays are finally here! Hagrid brought in the Christmas tree yesterday, and now Flitwick is setting about trimming it with magical icicles. Still not as great as our tree at home, though -- I can't wait to get home and help you and Dad decorate it... Charlie and I are doing fine. Charlie's been kept busy with Quidditch practice; I would've thought with him only just having joined the team, the captain might take it a little easier on him -- you know, give him time to get settled and learn the ropes -- but I guess the Quidditch scene is really fast-paced. Charlie even said that they can't afford to coddle him too much, since Gryffindor's next match will be immediately after winter break. As for me, I'm keeping my grades up and earning house points as best I can. Madame Pince gave me ten points the other day for helping some first-years with their Transfiguration homework in the library, and later in the week, McGonagall gave me ten more for it herself! Do you remember Carewyn Cromwell? She's Jacob Cromwell's sister, and a Slytherin in Charlie's year. She came up to talk to me the other day on the Training Grounds and asked me for help with the Fire-Making Spell. She seems like a pretty nice girl! I'm really glad she seems okay after what happened to her brother, but I can tell she really misses him -- I kind of thought she'd have to, when I first heard about it, but I'm glad she doesn't seem to resent him at all. She says that she and Jacob were really close -- apparently it was only ever just them and their mum, since Carewyn's dad left when she was really little -- so I can't imagine Jacob would've left his family on purpose. I really hope Carewyn's able to find out what happened to him. And I hope at some point I'll get to introduce her to you and Dad too! Carewyn grew up largely in the Muggle World since her dad was a Muggle, so she knows a lot about Muggle stuff -- she was telling me about some of her favorite Muggle musicians the other day, and she suggested that you might like a Muggle named Barbra Streisand, since you like Celestina Warbeck. She also said that if Dad's interested in learning more about Muggles, she could put him in touch with her mum -- she's a Magical Historian, but she's also pretty good with Muggle history too. Oh yeah, I almost forgot -- Carewyn's mad good at dueling. I challenged her to a friendly one, just to help gauge her level and maybe give her some pointers, and she not only dodged all my spells, but took me out with a Disarming Charm so strong she knocked me right off my feet! Sure, maybe I was a little worried about going too hard on her, but I was NOT expecting that! It's a good thing that we get on -- I would not like to be on the wrong side of her! I love you all so much! Give Ron and Ginny extra big hugs for me. Charlie and I will touch base again before we set off for home next week. See you soon! Bill

Molly would soon read quite a few more letters from both Bill and Charlie that mentioned Carewyn (or "Carey," as they soon took to calling her). Once Charlie started his third year, he became closer friends with Carewyn through Quidditch friendlies, so he often brought Carewyn up whenever he wrote anything about Hogwarts's Quidditch Cup.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot -- Carey's hoping to go out for the Slytherin team! One of Slytherin's Chasers got knocked off her broom by Erika Rath during a not-so-friendly friendly match against Ravenclaw's team, and she's so bad-off she probably won't be healed in time for the match against Hufflepuff, so Carey reached out to Slytherin's Star Chaser Skye Parkin, and now Parkin's helping her train for an upcoming tryout! I don't think Carey's as excited about a Parkin training her as I would be, but she said she's grateful for her help. She said she prefers training with me and Andre, though, since we don't make her try to mount any jinxed brooms!!

Meanwhile Bill's letters would express much more concern for Carewyn's emotional well-being, not unlike how he wrote about Charlie.

The Slytherin VS Hufflepuff Quidditch match is set for Friday. I've been worried about Carey -- there's a rumor going around school that she had a meltdown after one of Slytherin's practices, which is very out of character for her. Carey's much more the type to try to put on a brave face and not let anyone see she's scared or hurting. Even so, Carey has been very quiet this entire week...even if she says she's fine, I can tell something's bothering her. I've been trying to walk with her in the halls more, to keep any more obnoxious Hufflepuffs off her back.

Charlie and Bill's letters' subject matter and tone overlapped in December 1986. When Carewyn's mother, Lane Cromwell, was forced to spend the winter holidays abroad away from her daughter, both Weasley boys were beside themselves.

Speaking of Carey, Mum, you won't believe this -- Carey's mum is stuck out of the country on this trip for the Ministry, doing research on house elf history, and now Carey's going to have to stay stuck at school for the holidays! She's trying to act like she's not upset about it, but I don't see how she can't be! Carey loves Christmas! She's been singing carols all season...

It's the most outrageous thing, Mum. I know the Ministry of Magic's assignment is important, and I know it's an important opportunity for Carey's mother...but Carey's family isn't big like ours. Carey told me as far back as she can remember, it was always just her, Jacob, and her mum, even before her dad left. With Jacob missing, her mum is all Carey has. I know they're close, and I know being apart from her mother is hard for her -- from what Rowan's told me, Carey's mum has so much difficulty being around people that Carey and Jacob used to stay at home with her rather than try to make any friends when they were kids, just to keep her company. To be apart from her mum during Christmas, of all times...I know it has to be just eating Carey up inside, Mum. Even Merula (who I still think is upset about spending the holidays alone) is doing better because I doubt she's expecting any kind of special gathering for Christmas. Knowing Carey, she's probably been silently looking forward to spending Christmas with her mother all year. And now she's left silently mourning the fact that she won't.

Molly herself even ended up expressing quite a bit of upset in her own letters back to Charlie and Bill --

What a poor, sweet girl! You're absolutely right, Charlie, she most certainly can't be okay, under such circumstances! You tell your brother to find a way to bring her on back here to the Burrow, if he can...

Bill -- bring Carewyn back to the Burrow with you. Your father and I want her here with us. Merula Snyde too, if you can -- the poor thing shouldn't have to spend a holiday alone either.

That Christmas ended up being when Molly and Arthur first met Carewyn, and they both liked her at once. Not only did Carewyn get on very well with Bill and Charlie, but she was a very polite guest who readily volunteered to help with chores and had a faint "Mama Bear" quality that could remind anyone a bit of Molly. Arthur couldn't help but tease his wife just a little about it. @department-shoe-stud

"Red hair, short stature, mothering...Molly dear, did we have another daughter and I just never noticed?"

Not that Molly would've minded. That Christmas pretty much solidified her thought process that Carewyn would make a perfect Weasley, if either Bill or Charlie ever decided to pursue her romantically. (They never did.)

One thing Bill conveniently neglected to tell Molly about was how Carewyn and he had become friends largely because they'd teamed up to deal with the Cursed Vaults. Bill did acknowledge the curses unleashed on the school by the Cursed Vaults now and again in his letters home, since he knew Charlie had already written to their parents about them beforehand, but he didn't tell Molly that Carewyn and he had broken the curses on the Ice, Fear, and Forest Vaults with help from some of Carewyn's other friends. And Bill's reasoning proved to be rather sound, because as it turned out, when Molly eventually found out the summer before his seventh year, she was not happy. It was just about the only time Bill's siblings could remember Molly ever having shouted at him.

"William...Arthur...Weasley...have you gone COMPLETELY 'round the bend?! Abusing your Prefect powers -- sneaking into forbidden areas of the school -- aggravating curses that the professors themselves have struggled to get a hold of -- and all while dragging both Carewyn and Charlie along after you, when they haven't even PASSED THEIR OWLS YET?! You are grounded for the rest of the summer for a START, William Weasley, AND IF YOU OR CAREWYN EVEN THINK OF GOING AFTER ANOTHER CURSED VAULT, I'LL GROUND YOU EVEN AFTER YOUR GRADUATION!"

Bill didn't listen to his mother. But in his defense, Carewyn was going to do anything if it meant saving her brother Jacob, and there was no way Bill was going to let her run into that kind of danger alone. And neither was Charlie, when he ended up in the position to help found the Circle of Khanna with Carewyn, Bill, Merula, and Ben to avenge the death of their fallen friend, Rowan Khanna.

Fortunately, after the Cursed Vaults were dealt with and R was defeated, Molly slowly cooled off about the whole affair. However displeased she was that her sons had engaged in something so dangerous, she was ultimately very proud of how brave they both had been. That doesn't mean Molly wasn't still a bit sad neither of them pursued Ministry work like Carewyn did. If nothing else, if Charlie was at the Ministry too, maybe he would have more of a chance to spend "alone time" with Carewyn and something more romantic could bloom! Or so Molly thought. This is why she was incredibly surprised when after the Second Wizarding War, Bill sent along this letter --

In other news, Carey has actually started dating! I'm surprised too. His name is Orion Amari -- I'm sure Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny have heard of him, since he's a Chaser for the Montrose Magpies, but he was Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team in those two matches Carey played in, back at school. I don't remember him that well aside from that, but I followed up with some old friends from school who remember him and they've all spoken well of him. I also broached the topic with Carey, and even though she was understated as always, she really wants me to meet him. I think she really likes him a lot.

To say Molly wasn't disappointed to learn Carewyn would not be marrying Charlie would be untrue. When Molly met Orion herself at the after-party for his and Carewyn's partnership ceremony, however, she had to admit, Carewyn looked so very happy in Orion's company. And well, being the OG Mama Bear, that's all Molly Weasley could really want for Bill and Charlie's best friend.

She did add a very pointed little postscript to a letter she sent along to Carewyn's mother Lane in December, though.

P.S. Thank you for the advice about Muggle dragon books. I may be eternally disappointed that Charlie never took the plunge with your dear Carewyn, but Arthur and I still want to get him a birthday gift nobody else would think of getting him.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #molly weasley #bill weasley #charlie weasley #carewyn cromwell #ben copper #merula snyde #jae kim #orion amari #jacob cromwell #lane cromwell #albus dumbledore #severus snape

[itacestians-unite]

I HAVE A QUESTION!! How do you think itacest spends family events like Christmas or New years? I personally hc them to go off somewhere alone so they can be gay together (lol) but im curious to hear your hcs :o

thanks for asking!

wait are we talking in like a human au because i have some THOUGHTS

i love familial stuff i have this concept in my head where the italies + their nyos + seborga are all siblings and live at home (probably somewhere in central italy) (no seborga doesn't get a nyo version i'm sorry) (he's also the youngest he's baby)

i do have a particular fic i've been wanting to write with this dynamic but it's specifically a veneziano x nyo romano fic…… i can talk about it if anyone's interested it's just one of those "siblings sneaking around trying to make out while nearly getting caught" type fics it's my love <3

BUT ANYWAY i'll stick to regular itacest for this ask. here's just a big dump of scenarios that came to mind (TW: religious guilt)

i love love familial stuff. i'm imagining a bunch of family coming over for the holidays and doing that thing family always does where they need to have an opinion on Everything. "your room is so messy. haven't you grown out of that by now?" and of course the infamous "when are you having kids? i want grandbabies."

they're all sitting around the table for lunch when the pestering truly begins.

feliciano goes along with it even though inside, his heart is tight and he's thinking to himself "we can never have kids. we can't even adopt one. i can't have a family with lovino. it'd be taboo it'd be weird and everyone would be asking why why why"

he forces this bright smile and rambles on from his ass, implying that he just wants to flirt around with women and stay single. rome from the other end of the table goes "haha, that's my boy!"

lovino doesn't entertain any of them. you ask when he's going to have kids and he goes "try fucking never. kids are brats who scream, cry, and shit themselves all the time."

a condescending eye roll. "you must know a lot about that."

"EXCUSE ME? i don't fucking shit myself but i'm sure that's a lot more than your creped ass can say in your old age"

lovino slams his hands down on the table and makes the whole thing shake. feliciano is mortified. most everyone else is unphased, though someone snaps at lovino not to shatter any dishes during his tantrum. this is nothing out of the ordinary with them.

family members start pestering lovino about when is he gonna get a wife, how he can't get a wife with that attitude. one of them starts listing off women they know who "might be able to put up with them." he turns down every single one with a scoff.

feliciano stares quietly the entire time this is ongoing, face slowly getting flushed, the grip on his fork getting tighter, until he eventually snaps, pleasant tone contrasting with the look of irritation in his eyes, "maybe lovino is like me and doesn't want to settle down yet."

"i don't think he has the personality to get away with that."

lovino snaps back without hesitation. he's then scolded for using blasphemies at the table.

i think they also argue a lot more around religious holidays. lovino is always volatile, but the guilt he's reminded of everyday makes him especially so. he can't decide whether to run to feliciano or avoid him, leave him for feliciano's own sake and fuck off somewhere far away. pushing and pulling, kissing and rejecting. feliciano is usually good at letting things side and suppressing his anger so well he doesn't even feel it, yet with the shame raging over him and lovino's increasingly pissy mood, getting unpredictably turned down for snuggles and kisses, he can't help but snap back, all passive aggressive, and that's just makes lovino even angrier. he tells feliciano to stop being a coward and talk real shit or keep his mouth shut. feliciano insists in exasperation that he doesn't want to fight and tries to run away, but lovino blocks him.

i don't see them having hate sex (feliciano, in particular, i don't think could handle it. but i think lovino would be all for it.) but it sounds fun to write nonetheless.

back to the religion part, their relationship is incest. it's gay. it's unholy. there's nothing saving it no matter how you look at it. they go to church together, come home together, do not sleep together that night out of shame.

feliciano feels that swirling pit of guilt in his stomach and tries to go to lovino for comfort, tries placing a kiss to his lips, forgetting himself in the feeling of someone he loves.

lovino snaps, shoving him off, his own guilt gnawing at his bones. "fuck, don't touch me."

"I just want to kiss you."

"you don't need to kiss me. there's not a single goddamn reason you'd ever need to kiss me."

"but… i want to. i love you." feliciano's hands wrap loosely, hesitantly around lovino's waist.

"i said don't fucking touch me! for god's sake, feliciano. you think i want my brother's hands all over my body? you think i'm a sick bastard who's into that?"

feliciano freezes, all teary-eyed as he releases lovino, takes two steps back. "i'm sorry. i just want to forget how gross it feels in my own body right now by loving yours instead."

he turns and leaves in a hurry. lovino slams a fist against the table, unsure if he hates himself more for hurting feliciano or for loving him.

they make up, eventually, and proceed to have some of their hottest sex.

heavy breathing in a dark room, naked bodies frotting against each other, feliciano's fingers digging into lovino's shoulders, lovino squeezing feliciano's hips so hard they bruise, hushed moans between desperate, wet kisses, trying so hard to stay quiet in the dead of night. if they lose themselves in the passion, they can run away from the sin of it all.

#ask #anonymous #hetalia #itacest #aph italy #aph veneziano #aph romano #hws italy #hws romano #aph north italy #aph south italy #tw incest #religious guilt #lemon.txt

[all-souls-matinee]

A Ghost Story for Christmas

Throughout the 1970s the BBC ran a holiday special that adapted the works of M.R. James into made-for-TV-movies; celebrating the ‘tradition’ of telling scary ghost stories at Christmastime. They later included a few exceptions to the James rule, and then rebooted it for limited releases in 2005. James is a horror staple; even if you haven’t read his stuff you would recognize the setups and themes of his stories because he was widely publicized in 1910s Cambridge and came to have a ton of influence on the genre. I’ve always been pretty indifferent towards his writing, only familiar with ‘Casting the Runes’ and ‘Rats’ (neither adapted here), but was so charmed by this thing’s existence that I picked out seven episodes that sounded the most interesting and watched in a randomly generated order. All of them are available for free on YouTube/Tubi and run from 30-60 minutes if you’d like to check it out for yourself.

A View from a Hill (2005), story by M.R. James

An archeologist visits a bankrupt squire at a country estate to assess his family’s collection of local archeological finds. Against the protests of his servant, the squire lends our protag a pair of binoculars from the collection.

The editing on this one sucks so hard. There’s a ton of potential in using binoculars as a kind of adder stone that allows you see both shadowy figures and an entire building that isn’t there, and it’s too bad that it’s just flashing images and jump-cut edits. We do get a taste of James’ penchant for stories within stories, usually conveyed by a wise old man, which I love. A certain je ne sais quoi in inviting the unpaid manservant to sit down and talk about how the local weird guy was gallows-robbing and boiling skeletons in a big pot and then went crazy, made a pair of magic binoculars, and got killed by ghosts. Respective reactions to this were to take a long drag on a cigarette say “that didn’t happen” and take a sip of wine and say “it’s an interesting story.” Thank you British people for my life.

The Ice House (1978), original teleplay by John Bowen

A man vacationing to cope with the death of his wife begins to suspect brother-and-sister resort owners are up to something when they show him a mysterious vine growing on their property.

The concept of gothic horror set at one of the country health clubs that were popular in 70s England is honestly very clever. A forbidden room, a mysterious object, the image of a middle aged man wandering around at night with a candle instead of a young woman, it all mostly works, but doesn’t ever quite get anywhere. These are simple stories intended for sharing around a hearth or at a sleepover so shouldn’t want for things like character development or complex filming, but because this one was so ambitious you can feel how lacking it is. Gothic horror also isn’t my thing even at its best, and here its definitely... not (tw for incest.) The biggest point in its favor is the ending, which is at least a natural resolution to the story Bowen was trying to tell.

The Ash Tree (1975), story by M.R. James

Squire Richard inherits a beautiful estate from his distant uncle Matthew, only to be troubled by the sins of Matthew’s past as a ruthless employer of witch hunters. 

The framing of Richard-as-Matthew was confusing, the lighting and editing off, and I really dislike the witch genre so was predisposed against this one. I did like the wise old man character (the mild affect he has while explaining that anyone who touched Matthew’s body was physically wounded in bizarre ways??), and will give it credit for going from the most boring to the most insane one of the bunch. All of these are pretty tame so it was kind of a shock to have them cut to a topless witch torture scene and then to have an ending where he’s mauled by, um, spiders made from human baby heads. The titular cursed tree does burn down at the end, so that’s all good then.

Whistle and I’ll Come to You (2010), story by M.R. James

Pressured to take space from his wife’s care home, an old man goes to stay at a seaside hotel and finds a mysterious object™ while beach combing.

John Hurt is putting in such a powerhouse performance that it almost feels unfair to compare this to the cheaper 70s stuff. Cinematography and set dressing convey a subtype of loneliness that feels like scum on glass, and tension is built up wonderfully with nasty audio, a scary statue, the image of a pillow slowly dragged under a door. A figure on the beach is made frightening only through film techniques. It also strays much further from the source material than other adaptations, but that’s not without purpose. Hurt’s aside that losing someone to dementia is the opposite of our concept of a ‘ghost’ is more chilling than any of these goofy little vignettes have a right to be; no wonder they replaced the whistle with a wedding ring.

Stigma (1977), original teleplay by Clive Exton

Katherine and her teenage daughter take a trip out to their summer cottage, stopping to watch a team of workers attempt to remove a boulder from the property. Katherine is exasperated with her family, distracted by the workmen, and while cooking dinner finds her hand covered in blood. Only problem is she hasn’t cut herself.

This one was so fucked up and bizarre and I really liked it. As a kid one of my favorite ‘true’ stories was about a house in the Southern U.S. that inexplicably dripped blood from its walls, and this reminded me of that with an added human element. There’s a lot packed into the runtime and characterization considering how simple the plot is. Something both very charming and very chilling about amateur acting and grainy film stock that’s then transformed by moments of pure pathos and truly beautiful shots. The image of blood welling from skin with no visible wounds made me physically shudder; my only issue is that it over-explains itself at the end. So close.

Lost Hearts (1973), story by M.R. James

A preteen named Steven is sent off to live with a distant relation, an eccentric, kindhearted old man obsessed with the occult, and keeps seeing mysterious children around the grounds of his estate.

This one surprised me because I can’t stand the premise, but it really grew on me with time. Even though there’s no mystery (’those children you’re seeing definitely Aren’t little dead ghost children, why, the old man loves kids he adopted two orphans that mysteriously vanished’), it had the best pacing out of any episode I watched. There are some truly arresting and memorable shots like Steven’s benefactor clipping a flower with garden shears and grazing over a cherub statue, or his untimely demise filmed entirely in silhouette. The ghost children’s makeup has them in grey body paint with long vampire fingernails (and, later, open rib cages), which would have terrified me as a child. Even as an adult the image of them tapping on glass windows and humming a leitmotif is memorably creepy.

The Mezzotint (2021), story by M.R. James

Curator Edward Williams comes into possession of a print, a mezzotint, depicting a country estate. When a friend takes a look at it there’s something ever-so-slightly different about the image. Maybe Williams simply missed the moon peeking between the clouds and the figure stepping onto the lawn (spoiler alert: he didn’t.)

The prosthetics that traumatized so many kids who watched The Witches in the 90s never bothered me growing up, but that painting in the beginning gave me nightmares for months, ergo The Mezzotint is the most compelling of any James story. A deep-seated fear of something moving when you can’t see it is just so deliciously scary; I wish it hadn’t had such an unimpressive filming style (Mark Gatiss wrote/directed, and you may remember him from another show), but the pacing, the acting, and the mezzotint itself were great. The wise old man in this one is even played by an old woman- #feminism!

#i had a lot of fun with this- might do it again next year especially if people are interested #if you check out any of these definitely make it one of the last three #it really was a random order so funny that they improved as my list went on #long post

[space-specs]

for the fanfic ask meme- 🎃 👀 🧠 (guy gardner bc i want you to talk about my blorbo)

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

I have yet to write any fics for any holidays (unless you count Pride Month, in which case, gonna promo my criticism of Devin Grayson's Jon Kent Pride story here). I may write a Christmas fic if I can ever get the time in the holiday season because it's fun. I also have a soft spot for Jewish batfam content, but I would need to do quite a bit of research before I wrote a fic for any Jewish holiday.

On that note, I'll rec some other people's holiday fics, lol.

Latkes and Other Fried Foods by metukah — a collection of very sweet and fun Hanukkah stories featuring the Bats!

Cherish The Present by Listentothelittlebird — part of a larger AU (Code Bat) that I love very dearly and will not shut up about. Fluffy Christmas content!

Holiday Trappings by Cloaked Sparrow — also part of a larger AU that I actually need to read the rest of. I stumbled upon this one and really enjoyed it. Jason is loves his family and fjdklfgjfkjfh also....gift-giving as a love language is my shit.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

teehee, this one is fun because I have like 5 open wips + nearly 20 just snippets sitting around.

I'm behind on the Year of the OTP stuff, so I actually have two timberkon fics going at the same time (and I'm hoping I can finish one of them before the end of the month at least). March is a cryptid-hunting road trip fic and April is Kon being oblivious af and not realizing he's been dating Tim and Bernard for weeks because I think that trope is fun.

There's also my big Jason wip that I've been working on for over a year (this was supposed to be a quick thing and it got WAY out of hand). I have a lot of feelings about it, but the basic premise is Jason gets to Gotham and starts his whole plan, but the Bats kinda realize that while he IS killing people, he's definitely more vigilante than criminal and their goals kinda align. So they decided to just work with him rather than against him (because Bruce has an established history of working with characters with different modalities on killing, both in and out of Gotham). And then Jason goes "well, now what?" and just....fails to tell them that "hey, btw, I'm the dead Robin" for like a year while he bonds with them and also gets to see how his death changed things up close and personal. (I'm not kidding, I'm keeping a timeline for this for my own personal reference and we're up to 70% of a year now. Also over 20k words. Holy shit.)

But because it's YOU asking and you get to hear about most of my fics as I'm writing them, I will add a bonus of the summary of wip I have not really told you about:

His siblings all follow Bruce's no kill rule for one reason or another, but the realities of vigilante life is never nearly so black and white. Jason’s there to help with all the grays. Or, 6 times Jason hides a body from Bruce + 1 time he nearly finds out.

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

Oh, you want me to talk about your blorbo. I see how it is /lh.

Trying to think of something that isn't just straight up lifted from headcanons we've already discussed....hold on.

Being a GL isn't exactly conducive to having a stable job, so when he first starts out and is in space more often than he's Earth-side, he fills his time on Earth doing volunteer work with kids because he likes helping out and it gives him something to do for the like week he's back home. It doesn't really provide income, so he usually just crashes at other people's place. Hal, John, the jl:i peeps at some point, Oliver Queen on one memorable occasion. Eventually, he gets the bar and his own place, but he still tries to keep up the volunteer work when he can.

Speaking of the bar, to me, Guy's strength in the kitchen is his adaptability, and being a GL only enhanced that. Between having to figure out what makes for good eats on various alien planets and having to come home from long space trips to the 6 shelf stable items left in the pantry, Guy is something of an expert in turning a handful of mismatched ingredients into something enjoyable. This is in direct contrast to Hal Jordan, whose time as GL has just made him used to eating whatever, and now he has the most bizarre palette and will just throw together the strangest combinations and enjoy it. (Both of them have developed a keen sense for what kind of foods will keep their bodies fueled longer and their eating habits reflect that).

#ask game #spec-text-ular #dc #batfam #fic recs #timberkon #guy gardner #green lantern #just tagging a few thing so as not to clog up the character tags lol

[tarrenterror25]

Alfred Pennyworth (Gotham) x F!Latin!Reader Title: When We Met, I Felt My Life Begin Rating: PG Word Count: 6.8K

Summary: You and Alfred are both trying to organize a special Valentine’s day for each other, but nothing seems to be going quite right! Luckily, young master Bruce is around to help you two get everything in order!

Tags: romantic comedy vibes, fluff, Alfred POV, alternating POV, young Bruce, wholesome family vibes, some smooching, mention of reader’s family

Notes: This is another one that I’m super nervous to post. I almost didn’t post this, but any who this is just a fun little thing written for Valentine’s Day 💖 Fools Rush In by Ray Eberle and Bow Wow Wow inspired this. Written with Latin reader in mind, but anyone is welcome to read! Written with Sean Pertwee’s Alfred because the idea of him and comedic fluff is too adorable to pass up! 💕

I did my best to make this lighthearted and funny and I hope you guys like it! I’m also super nervous writing something for a Latin reader.

Playlist here

When we met, I felt my life begin, so open up your heart and let this fool rush in.

There’s an immense amount of bustling activity in the city of Gotham today and Alfred Pennyworth has no patience for the dawdlers crowding up the shops and streets. A dog walker races down the sidewalk with several pups stringing them along and a businessman in front of Alfred can’t quite decide which side of the sidewalk he wants to stay on while gabbing on his phone.

Finally, after fighting the crowds, Alfred makes it to his destination; a local florist. Stepping inside, he’s exasperated and out of breath, but he’s bloody made it. A quick glance around the shop and Alfred is grateful that despite the holiday, the shop is rather empty.

The young lady at the counter smiles brightly when she sees Alfred. “Mr. Pennyworth! Right on time! Your arrangements are all set,” she says.

“Afternoon, Clara,” Alfred replies smile as he straightens up. “If you could just ‘ave the usual arrangements delivered that’d be wonderful, but I’m ‘ere to personally pick up the other one.”

Clara gives a sly smile. “Oh, that one!”

A blush creeps across the butler’s face and Clara gives a chuckle. “I’m just teasing!” she says. “I think it’s romantic and more men should aspire to be like you.”

Clara disappears into the back and returns with a beautiful bouquet of flowers; full and luscious with a variety of flowers and greenery. “She’s going to love this,” Clara says handing the bouquet to Alfred.

“Thank you, Clara, marvelous work as always,” Alfred comments.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?”

“Well,” Alfred says checking his watch, “I still ‘ave to pick up a gift then we’re goin’ out to dinner, then off to the cinema to see that new Basil Karlo film: ‘Midnight Mystery’.”

“How cute!” Clara says with bubbly smile. “Can’t go wrong with dinner and a movie.”

“So long as nothin’ does go wrong,” Alfred says with a chuckle. “So far everythin’ seems right as rain.”

While incessantly honking, you shout out the window of your car for the vehicle in front of you to stop blocking the lane. Behind you, a car honks and shouts for you to hurry up and move. Pedestrians weave between traffic making it difficult to inch along the streets of Gotham.

You could scream you’re so frustrated! Damn the people of Gotham for getting in the way of your Valentine’s day.

Alfred has planned to take you out to dinner and then to a movie, but you want to surprise him by cooking for him at Wayne Manor. You guys have been dating awhile, but this is your first Valentine’s day with each other and you’ll be damned if you’re gonna let some 4 o’clock traffic ruin it!

Whipping the wheel, you maneuver into another lane and take a different route to your apartment. Once there, you rush in and pack a bag; you’ll have to get dressed at Wayne Tower since you won’t have time to do it now. You procrastinated picking out an outfit so you just stuff a mix of clothes, accessories, and shoes into your bag. In the bathroom, your arm sweeps all of your beauty products into a bag. You told yourself to brainstorm how you wanted to look for tonight, but got distracted deciding what to cook for Alfred instead and then got distracted with something else and so on and so forth.

As you make your way back to your car, you’re tangled in the strap of your overnight bag. It’s only getting worse when you try to fish your keys out of your pocket while simultaneously dialing Wayne Manor on your cell as you.

You still have to get to the store and buy ingredients for your surprise dinner, get to Wayne Manor, prepare everything, and get dressed. Thankfully, Bruce was in on your plan and also offered his help to get Alfred out of the house for the day.

“Hello?”

“Bruce!” you say with a sigh of relief when the young man answers. “I’m headed to the store right now as we speak!”

“Hurry! No telling when Alfred will be back,” he says.

“Will do!” you say getting into your vehicle.

You hang up and speed down the streets of Gotham.

The Gotham Mall proves to not be as crowded, but that doesn’t make picking out a gift any easier. Would jewelry be too much too soon? Alfred is afraid to get clothes because he doesn’t want to get something you don’t like. He tried asking Bruce for ideas to which the young man said that you could never go wrong with the holy trinity of Valentine’s gifts: flowers, a teddy bear, and candy, particularly chocolates. Alfred already has the flowers and now he has a blue bag with a teddy bear and a box of chocolates, but he feels he needs something else, something more personal.

The butler retrieves his pocket watch. He has enough time before he has to meet you at Wayne Manor to pick you up for dinner. He feels terrible about leaving Bruce behind, but the young master did not budge on staying home. He found out the two of you had a chance to go out and urgently insisted upon it. It was very strange too, that Bruce was adamant that Alfred conduct his errands now of all times, but it did give Alfred an excuse to shop around for you though.

Another man sits next to Alfred, loudly having a conversation on his phone. It’s making it extremely difficult for Alfred to hear his own thoughts. He picks up his bag and continues walking, away from the nuisance.

Perhaps perfume? He remembers the name of the one you always wear. Or perhaps something you could use? Damn it all, he’s not very good at this. how long has it been since he’s had to be romantic?

At least I have the chocolates and the be-

A glance down and then a double take. Alfred sees that the bag he is holding is green instead of blue. The contents inside the bag are not the bear and chocolates, but some menswear.

Bloody hell.

Alfred glances back towards where he was sitting and sees the man that was next to him, still on the phone, get up and walk off with the blue bag in hand.

“Oi, sir!” Alfred calls out as he walks toward the man.

He doesn’t seem to hear Alfred over the conversation on his phone and keep walking so Alfred picks up the pace into a jog towards him. “Sir!” he says louder this time.

The man turns a corner and disappears from view. Alfred stops for a second and breathes out a “right then” before he breaks out into a light sprint after the man. When the stranger comes into his line of sight he shouts at him, “You there!”

Finally, the man glances over his shoulder. Whatever blissfully ignorant expression he had on his face before is replaced with fear at seeing a very determined man hurrying towards him. He hangs up his phone and scurries off.

You park your vehicle out of sight and hurry to the front door step of Wayne Manor juggling paper bags of groceries and your overnight bag. Bruce opens the door for you and you rush to the kitchen.

“The traffic is unbelievable today!” You say setting the paper bags on the kitchen island.

Bruce excitedly begins helping you remove the items from the bags. “So, what all are we making?” he asks. He retrieves two aprons and hands one to you while he dons the other.

You set your duffel bag off the side and begin retrieving some pots and pans. “Stuff my mom used to make for my dad when they first got together. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“So what do we need to do first?” Bruce asks as he rolls up his sleeves.

It warms your heart seeing Bruce so interested in helping you make dinner for Alfred. You recall how nervous you were asking for the young man’s help in the first place.

When you first started seeing Alfred, Bruce was rather closed off and reserved from you. He had his reasons to be suspicious of you and you respected his space. It took some time, but when Bruce realized how much weight his approval held and how much you cared about Alfred, he came around. You never missed an opportunity to include Bruce in the things you did with Alfred such as now.

The two of you laugh and tell jokes as you cut and chop ingredients. He’s telling you about how he’s never seen Alfred so nervous except for when the butler first approached you to ask you to dinner. You start mixing up some dough in a bowl and start telling Bruce the significance of what you’re cooking. “My mother made some of this food for my father for their first date when they got together,” you explain.

“Sure seems like a lot of work,” Bruce comments as he preps bowls of ingredients. “I thought you said this was going to be easy!”

“I said it wasn’t going to be ‘too hard’, never said anything about easy!”

“Oh, the thing is in the study, on the desk,” Bruce says.

“Right!

Once the mise en place is set, you drop some onions and peppers into a saucepan to get them to soften and start up some water to boil. You task Bruce with rolling out balls of dough while you hurry over to the study.

On the desk in the middle of the room there is a business card. A warmth, like one that comes from a soft fire on a chill evening, spreads through you. You pick up the business card where the front has information for Wayne Enterprises. On the back is a scribbled phone number and a rosy pink kiss mark. It’s the business card that you handed back to Alfred when you first met him. Bruce mentioned having seen it and you asked for him to hold onto it so you could give it to Alfred.

The ticking of the clock on the wall becomes too difficult to ignore. You look at its face and gasp at the time. You still had to finish dinner and get dressed!

You leave the study and set the card down somewhere as you head back to the kitchen.

Back at the mall, the incorrect green bag still in hand, Alfred weaves around shoppers in his way as he pursues the stranger with his bag that has your gifts. The man he’s chasing seems to be under the impression that Alfred means him harm, but who could blame him? The butler is sprinting at him with his jaw clenched like he’s going to tackle him. At this point Alfred wants to for compensation of being put through this whole ordeal.

“Take it easy man!” the man shouts chancing a glance behind him at Alfred. He tumbles into a Valentine display, spilling its contents onto the floor. “Someone get this guy!” he shouts helplessly.

Alfred leaps over the mess of stuffed animals and cards then continues after the man. “Oi!,” he yells. “That’s my bag you’ve got!”

Panic prevents the stranger from paying any attention so he continues to evade Alfred. Frightened, the man quickly ducks into an elevator and Alfred approaches it just as the glass door closes.

“Damn,” Alfred curses.

He looks to the numbers above the doorway. It’s heading up. Alfred makes a run for the staircase and curses again when his phone rings. “’Ello?”

“Alfred, it’s Bruce,” the young boy says in a hushed voice.

“Master Bruce, yes, ‘s everythin’ alright? Why you whisperin’?”

“I’m calling to see if you ordered the tickets for the movie tonight?”

Bloody fucking hell.

God, he could punch himself a thousand times over.

“You forgot didn’t you?” Bruce says, a chuckle in his voice.

“N-No! I didn’t forget. Just ‘aven’t got ‘round to it. I’ll get it done now,” Alfred says hanging up.

He makes it to the top of the stairs and his eyes scan for the elevators. A set of silver doors opens and there’s the man stepping out. Alfred makes a beeline for him and expertly maneuvers around people with the bag in one hand and his phone in the other.

He ducks under two maintenance workers carrying a ladder and sidesteps effortlessly out of the way of a woman pushing along a pram. He dials a number and puts the phone up to his ear. “’Ello? Yes, this the Majestic Theater?” he says trying to keep his focus trained on the man ahead of him while speaking. “I need two tickets for a showin’ of that Basil Karlo film for tonight!...Yes, that one!...Sold out? Oh, damn!” He hangs up.

He jumps over some decorative shrubbery and almost steps into an inground pond, but manages to catch himself and keep going. He dials another number.

“’Ello, Star Cinema?...Yes, two tickets for the Basil Karlo film at- are you bloody jokin’?? Sold out?” He hangs up.

The man Alfred is pursuing hops onto an escalator going down.

“I’ve had ‘nough of this!” Alfred says tossing aside the man’s green bag. A woman behind him shouts “hey!”, but Alfred is too pissed to turn around and apologize.

He hops onto the escalator going down and as politely as he can, hurriedly brushes past people to catch up to the man. Right as the poor terrified stranger is about to walk off the platform of the escalator, Alfred grabs the him by the back of his shirt. “Finally!” Alfred says a little out of breath. “The hell is your problem?!”

“Don’t hurt me!” the man says cowering in fear. “I’ll pay him back next week, I swear it!”

Alfred scowls. “I’m not ‘ere for your money, idiot,” he says roughly releasing the man. “You made off with my bloody bag, you twit.” Alfred snatches the blue bag from the man and check its contents. Relief hits as he sees everything is still there.

“Hey, wait, then where’s my bag??” The man asks in an accusatory tone.

Alfred starts to walk off, but whips around when the man pipes up. “You better turn right ‘round ‘fore I sort you out, yeah?”

The stranger just holds his hands up and backs away.

Alfred straightens out his jacket with a huff and checks his pocket watch. Now he was running behind.

“Now let’s see,” you say examining some ingredients, “I can’t quite remember how much of this I’m supposed to put. Here, let me just call my mom real quick.”

“What are these for?” Bruce asks gesturing to some bowls of meats and cheeses.

“You roll out the dough and add a filling,” you say resting your phone between your ear and shoulder as you demonstrate the process. He follows along with you and gets the hang of it pretty quick.

“Ma!” You say hearing your mother pick up. You speak to her in Spanish asking about the dish, but your mother isn’t making the most sense. Then again, these recipes have been passed down through generations of your family and their units of measure along with their memory was not always reliable. So your mother is just second guessing herself a lot as she tries to recall the details. You urge your mother to get to the point of her answer instead of giving you the whole backstory of the food you’re trying to make and the hundreds of variations of it from tia to tia. “Ma! I just need to know how much of this to put!” you insist. “¡Dime, por favor!”

You listen to her try to gather her thoughts and finally she starts relaying the details of the recipe to you.

“And then your father,” she says getting lost in the unnecessary details again, “likes them with the green salsa I make and- wait a second, who is this for?” A gasp. “Es para tu novio?”

“Yes, ma!” you say embarrassed. “Now how much of this do I put?!”

“When are you bringing him around?” Your mother begins to ramble, berating you for not having yet brought Alfred around your family.

Bruce taps your shoulder and makes a ‘time’ gesture to his wrist. You nod and make a gesture that you guys are gonna start wrapping things up.

Finally, you get off the phone with your mother and together you and Bruce get food in the oven and allow the food on the stove to simmer.

The two of you remove your aprons and hang them back up. “Now I have to get his present ready and get dressed,” you say. “Will you set the table?”

“Sure thing!” Bruce says hurrying off to the dining room.

You grab your duffel bag and head upstairs to the guest room. You style your hair, do your makeup, and put on a red dress with a dainty floral pattern. After you slip on some espadrille sandals, you put on some gold earrings and a matching gold chain. There’s a floor length mirror that you look yourself over in. Satisfied, you head back downstairs to the study to pick up the card.

Your plan is to place it into a shadowbox frame. Alfred will be able to add the movie tickets to it after tonight. Entering the study, you look to the desk and frown. All of the other stationery is as you left it, but one thing is missing.

The card isn’t there.

“Oh no.”

“’Ello, yes, this the Luxe theater?...Yes, tickets to Midnight Mystery...How the devil is everywhere sold out!...Yes, I’m ‘ware it is a highly anticipated film...Yes, well, thank you.”

Alfred hangs up and continues driving back to the manor. Great. Well a movie was likely to not happen tonight. He’s rather disappointed about it because he promised you he’d take you to see it. There’s a twinge of shame in him for failing you on that front, but hopefully the rest of the evening can make up for it. He checks his pocket watch again and curses at seeing he’ll be late meeting up with you at the manor. Traffic has definitely picked up as the evening draws near with everyone trying to get to restaurants, clubs, theaters, and what have you for their dates.

This was his first Valentine’s Day with you and his first one in a long time. Alfred Pennyworth is not one to show too much emotion, but being with you turned him into an absolute lovesick wreck. God, did you make his heart race. He recalls the first time he saw you; you were walking past him on the street as he was on his way to escort Bruce to Wayne Enterprises. He saw you at the same time everyday and swore that the clouds parted and the sun shone a little brighter in Gotham when you walked by.

The bleak city didn’t hold much charm to Alfred when it came to the view, he’d lived here most of his life and felt he had seen everything there was to see. Then you walked by and he wondered why he had never seen you before because surely yours was a face he would remember.

It took awhile, but he finally worked up the courage to chat with you except he ended up stumbling over his words and making a fool of himself. You asked him something in Spanish. He wasn’t sure what you said, but he just knew that your voice was one he desperately would want to hear again no matter what you were saying.

You were so cool and collected while was certain he was sweating bullets. He recalls how his hand shook while handing you a business card to write your phone number on. And then you kissed it, a sweet chaste kiss that left a pink kiss mark on the card. He was too stunned to move and this made you giggle. You held out the card to him and he just stared at it like an idiot. Bruce even nudged him, but Alfred was frozen. His hand was moving at a snail’s pace to take the card so you just smiled and tucked it into his breast pocket before continuing on your way. Your form faded into the crowd of people and he wondered if he had imagined you. His hand came up to press against his pocket to be sure the card was there and he pulled it out.

Whether he would see you beyond that moment didn’t matter, your memory was permanently seared into his mind.

A sigh from the butler.

Best to let you know he’ll be late. Alfred gets his phone out again and dials your number.

You and Bruce are tearing through the manor, retracing your steps for a fourth, fifth, and sixth time searching for the card. You’re trying to keep it together so your makeup doesn’t smear, but things are looking rather grim.

During the frantic search you don’t hear any of the timers in the kitchen go off.

You do hear your phone ringing since it’s in your hand. The contact shows it’s Alfred. You answer it, trying to mask your shaky voice.

“Amor,” you say lovingly.

“’Ello, darling,” he replies. “Just callin’ to check on you.”

“Doing just fine, um, just getting dressed for dinner,” you say still looking through the manor for the business card.

“‘Bout that, darling. I’m runnin’ a bit behind,” Alfred says sounding disappointed.

“Oh!” you say with relief, but quickly try to mask it. “I mean, oh, that’s alright, there’s no rush!”

The high pitched whine of a smoke detector goes off in the kitchen and you bolt in that direction.

“No!” you shout seeing smoke come from the oven and the contents on the stove boiling over.

“Everythin’ alright??” you hear Alfred call out over the phone.

“Yes!” you assure him trying to turn off everything. “Just uh, got caught on something is all!” You grab a towel and try to wave the smoke away from the smoke detector.

“Darling, I can hear a smoke detector?”

Bruce comes into the kitchen and sighs defeatedly, “There’s no sign of it, I’ve looked ever- woah!”

“Is that Master Bruce?” Alfred asks. “Are you at the manor already?”

“No! I, um, that’s just the tv!” you shout.

Bruce winces as he realizes he’s almost given away the surprise. He mouths an apology and opens a window.

As if nothing else could get anymore out of control, your mother is calling you. You let out an exasperated breath; the smoke, your ruined dinner, and trying to maintain some level of subterfuge exhausting all of your energy.

“Hold on, Alfred,” you say answering your mother on the other line. “Mama!,” you say firmly. “No tengo tiempo para hablar! Es que tengo mucho que hacer antes de-”

“It’s...it’s still me, love,” Alfred says stopping you in the middle of your rant.

“Oh. Right.”

You finally assuage Alfred and your mother and are able to return to the task at hand: dinner. Having everything become inedible puts a wrench in your plans for sure, but Bruce, clever young man that he is, is able to save some of the food.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce says.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Bruce,” you say. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Here you are helping me and well,” you sigh, “I’m kind of messing everything up.”

“I think you’re just nervous is all,” Bruce says setting the still edible food onto a serving plate. “But at least you guys still have the movie to look forward to.”

“Are you sure you won’t go with us, Bruce?” you ask placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to get in the way of your date with Alfred. I know how important it is to you being Valentine’s day and all.”

You smile and place a silver dome onto the serving plate. “Bruce, you know, in other parts of the world, Valentine’s day isn’t just romantic love, it’s about friends as well.”

“Really?” he asks curiously.

You nod. “Love isn’t just something shared with another person who gives you butterflies in your stomach. It’s shared between friends and family. I know it might be really forward of me, but Bruce, I think of you and Alfred as my friends and my family.”

“You don’t...you don’t think I’m in the way or anything? I figured you were just letting me help because you felt sorry or-”

“Oh no, Bruce!” You gently pull him into a hug and he lets you. There’s tension in him, but you feel the young man in your arms relax and return your hug. “You have no idea how important you are to me. And I’m the lucky one to have your help on this day.”

Bruce pulls away with a small smile on his face and he tries to be subtle in wiping his eye. You pretend you don’t see. “Guess we could order some pizza,” he says.

“That’s probably the best way to go,” you sigh. “At least we have something to show for our hard work,” you comment with the serving plate in hand. You head off to the dining room.

There’s that warm fuzzy feeling in you again as you see the table; there’s some roses set out and candles on the table. Despite the size and coldness of the long, usually empty table, this feels cozy. Two sets of dishes sit across from each other near the end. You set the serving plate in the middle, careful not to disturb too much of Bruce’s hard work.

“Bruce,” you say softly.

“What? It looks okay, right? I looked up some stuff online for ideas and I just thought-”

“It looks wonderful,” you say.

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

You walk over to the cabinet where the dishes are kept and grab an extra set. “You forgot to set out plates for one more,” you say setting the dishes down at the head of the table.

“I-I couldn’t,” Bruce argues. “I’ll just eat in the parlor or something.”

“Only if that is what you want,” you say matter of factly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I want you to know that if you did join us, I would love to have you.”

He offers a soft smile. Alfred tells you he doesn’t smile much these days after the loss of his parents so you know what it means to see even a hint of joy from him.

The sound of a car pulling up in the driveway reaches your ears and you both gasp.

“I can’t find the card anywhere!” Bruce reminds you.

“That’s okay!” you assure him.

The two of you break and Bruce heads for the door while you stay behind in the kitchen to order the pizza.

Alfred walks up to the front door, cursing for running so far behind. Bruce opens the door before he can he get a hand on it. “Master Bruce, is everythin’ alright?”

“Of course,” Bruce says. “Come in! Come in!”

Alfred furrows his brow as the young master takes the flowers and bags from him. “You should probably go get dressed,” Bruce says to the butler.

“She’s not here yet, is she?” Alfred asks hanging up his coat.

“Nope! She just called and said she’s also running behind.”

“Excellent then,” Alfred says undoing his tie. “I wasn’t able to get those bloody tickets for the damned movie so I’ll have to come up with an alternative.”

Bruce looks thoughtful for a moment. “I have an idea,” he says. “Just get dressed and I can take care of it.”

“You sure?” the butler asks with a brow raised with suspicion.

“Yes! Now go!” Bruce urges him up the stairs by giving the butler a push.

“The hell has gotten into you?” Alfred asks going up the stairs.

Once Alfred is dressed, he finds Bruce in the study. “Lookin’ for somethin’?” Alfred asks suspiciously.

Bruce quickly sets down a stack of papers. “The movie.”

“The movie?”

“I know what we can do for the movie.”

It was time.

You smooth out your dress nervously as you wait in the dining room for Bruce to lead Alfred in. They managed to keep busy while you retrieved the pizza at the door.

There was a lot of noise outside in the backyard, but you didn’t want to chance a peek at them lest you ruin the surprise of you being there.

You can hear Alfred’s voice down the hall asking why they are going to the dining room and Bruce telling him to keep walking.

“Master Bruce, I dare say I’ll be late if I don’t-”

Alfred enters the dining room holding the flowers, bear, and chocolates. He’s dressed in a deep maroon tweed suit with a light tan waistcoat and a red tie. He sees you waiting by the candlelit table and he’s clearly caught off guard by the sight; mouth slightly agape, eyes looking you over like it’s the first time all over again. He stumbles over his words trying to greet you and laughs nervously.

Your own cheeks are warm as you go over to him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, amor,” you say kissing his cheek. His face is warm, too and nearly as red as his suit.

Bruce is just in the background looking rather smug with having had a hand in making his uptight butler flustered.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, darling,” Alfred says. “These are for you.”

He holds out the bouquet to you. “And these as well,” Alfred says holding out the bear and chocolates to you. A quick glance over and you see Bruce exchange a thumbs up with his butler.

You smile and take them. The bear is a shade of chocolate brown with a handsome red bow around its neck and the chocolates are in a lush pink square box with a white ribbon. “They’re lovely,” you say. “Um, I had a gift for you and had hoped to make you dinner, but there was a little trouble in the kitchen.”

“Thought I smelled smoke,” he says playfully.

You gently smack his arm and he laughs.

“I know a nice dinner out was probably in your plans,” you say, “but I wanted to cook for you instead.”

“A much better idea if I may say so,” Alfred says.

“Thanks to Bruce we managed to save some of the originally planned food,” you say removing the dome top from the serving plate. “And then the local pizzeria has been kind enough to cater our evening tonight.”

You make a flourished gesture to a couple of pizza boxes on the table and Bruce and Alfred laugh.

“Here, ‘llow me,” Alfred says pulling out a chair for you.

He pushes you in. “Are you joining us, Master Bruce?”

“Yes,” Bruce says. “This evening I will be your chaperone, Alfred,” he adds jokingly.

“Cheeky,” Alfred returns playfully and pulls out the head chair for Bruce.

Bruce sits and when Alfred seats himself, you see Bruce holding something to you out of sight of the butler.

The card!

You lean down and whisper a ‘thank you’ as you take the card.

Despite some of the mishaps, the food that was saved smells heavenly. Alfred has a huge smile on his face and Bruce is sitting up straight with pride. “Bruce helped me make all of this,” you say. “I couldn’t have done it without him.”

“Is that why you wanted me out of the house?” Alfred asks.

Bruce gives a sly smile. “Guilty.”

The three of you eat and talk; about how you and Alfred had your own mishaps throughout the day. You almost spat out your drink at hearing how he had to chase down a man at the mall.

“That poor man!” you say.

Bruce is laughing so hard, he’s holding onto his side.

“He wasn’t bloody payin’ attention! I tried callin’ out to ‘im!” Alfred says defensively.

“Well, my mother held us up while we were cooking,” you add. “She’s uh, asking when I’ll bring you around.”

Alfred looks up a bit nervously. “I mean, well, if...if that’s somethin’ you should desire then I’m ‘appy to oblige. ‘Course if it’s not then I respect that as well.”

Bruce looks to you curiously for an answer.

“Of course I’d love to,” you say. “They’re dying to meet you, both of you.”

Bruce smiles as he takes a drink from his glass.

“Before I forget, I have something for you Bruce,” you say. You excuse yourself and return with a small gift bag. “Remember when I said that Valentine’s Day is for friends and family? Well, I hope you didn’t think I forgot you.”

Though he tries to hide it, you can see the young man’s eyes light up. Alfred smiles too, seeing him open the gift bag and retrieve a deep red cardigan. Bruce looks to you with a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he says.

You won’t know because he won’t tell you, but he’s touched by your gesture at thinking of him during a time when many can feel alone.

After dinner, Bruce excuses himself for awhile. You and Alfred now stand together in the parlor. You set the bear and box of chocolates on the coffee table and turn over the bouquet of flowers in your hands to observe the arrangement.

“I was very particular with the ‘ssortment,” Alfred says clearing his throat.

“Oh?”

He moves closer to you and points to the flowers as he describes them. “Yes, well, roses are ‘course for love and beauty, but violets are for humility.”

You look up at him through your lashes and he takes a slow deep breath; like you’ve knocked the wind out of him looking at him like that.

“I know,” he says, “that I’m hardly deservin’ of someone as wonderful and beautiful as you. I recognize how lucky I am to ‘ave you.”

“What else?” It’s barely a whisper from you, but you’re too enamored with what he’s saying to notice.

“Aster is,” you see he’s getting nervous now as he speaks, “is for patience. I’m well ‘ware that lovin’ me isn’t easy given...the circumstances, but I ‘ppreciate it and you as well, ‘mmensely. So thank you, for your patience with me.”

There’s a dreamy glossy eyed look on your face as you watch him speak. your heart swells at hearing the hard work he’s put into something as simple as a bouquet of flowers for you. And you know he feels pride in knowing that his meticulous attention to detail does not go by you unnoticed.

“Now for your real gift,” you say.

You hold up the business card showing the embossed information for Wayne Enterprise and then flip it around to show where your number is scribbled next to your kiss. Alfred’s face lights up as he gingerly takes it. “I thought I’d lost it,” he says softly.

“Bruce said he found it in your car and I asked him to keep it safe for me,” you say. “I was surprised when I found out that you had kept it.”

“‘Course I kept it!” Alfred says in shock. “I’d ‘ave been daft to throw it with the rubbish!”

“Well now you have it again and you’ll be sure not to lose it this time,” you playfully warn.

“‘Course,” Alfred says putting it in the pocket of his waistcoat.

“Do you remember that day?” you ask softly.

“Like I could forget,” he replies.

There’s a fluttering in your stomach as Alfred looks at you now. You would have thought that you two have been dating long enough for the nerves to go away, but Alfred just makes you nervous anytime you’re around him. Your palms get sweaty, you fidget with your hair, and you tend to avoid his gaze like you’re doing now.

“Nervous, darling?” he asks softly reaching his hand out to touch your cheek.

“No,” you say trying to keep your composure.

“You always tend to look away from me when you’re nervous,” Alfred notes as he takes your hand in his other.

You will yourself to look up at him and you melt. Slowly, the two of you gravitate towards the other until there’s hardly room for the shared breath between the two of you. Kissing Alfred is like kissing someone you’ve known across many lifetimes and will continue to know for many more. Strong hands hold your waist gently as if you’re a flower whose petals will fall if one is not careful.

“I love you,” you say when the two of you finally pull apart.

“And I, you,” Alfred says with a smile.

“So, what time is the movie?”

Alfred winces a bit.

“Yes, ‘bout that, darling. I thought perhaps we would enjoy a film in a way that was similar in fashion to our dinner,” Alfred says.

“You forgot to order the tickets, didn’t you?” you can hardly hide your laugh when he scowls.

“Is this Basil Karlo worth his bloody weight in gold or somethin’!? Yes, I may ‘ave forgotten, but that’s not the point, darling,” Alfred says sternly. “Point is,” he says straightening his tie, “that we ‘ave a much more suitable alternative.”

At that moment, Bruce enters the parlor. “Ah, master Bruce,” Alfred says. “Would you two mind headin’ outside while I gather the refreshments?”

“Sure,” Bruce says with a smile.

You’re confused, but follow Bruce outside to the backyard. Upon stepping out the door, your jaw drops.

There’s a projector casting its picture onto a makeshift screen and in front of it is an outdoor couch with pillows and blankets. Some outdoor lights are strung up to help illuminate the area as the sun says farewell. There’s an outdoor coffee table in front of the couch where a few snacks are laid out. Bruce holds up a movie, ‘The Ghost in Gray’.

“Starring Simon Trent,” Bruce adds.

“I’ve never seen it, but I’ve always wanted to,” you say excitedly. “Bruce, did you help with this?”

“Face it, the two of you would have had a terrible time if I wasn’t around to save the day,” Bruce says blowing on his fingers curled into a light fist and brushing them on his shirt looking very accomplished.

“This is one of those rare times where I say he’s right,” Alfred comments bringing out a large bowl of popcorn and glass bottles of Soder Cola. He sets them on the table. “Glad to see your mind bein’ put to use for somethin’ other than detective work.”

“Alfred,” Bruce says.

“Oh, I only tease, master Bruce,” Alfred assures him while starting up the movie.

The three of you sit on the couch; Bruce sitting in the middle between you two. Just before the movie starts you rush inside the manor and come back with a polaroid camera.

“Smile!” you say as you snap a selfie of the three of you.

You set the picture on the table and the three of you watch the movie together. When it’s over, Bruce heads off to bed and it’s just you and Alfred outside.

“I ‘pologize that today didn’t quite go as planned,” Alfred says as he puts an arm around you as the credits to the movie play.

You move closer to him, an arm around his chest. “I say it went better than expected,” you say.

Alfred wants to kiss you, but he hesitates, after all this time he still hesitates. His lips move closer to yours then stop, waiting for permission to continue. His well-mannered nature is so endearing. You meet him halfway to close the space between the two of you.

When the two of you pull away, you lean into each other watching the credits roll as a song plays.

“Come now,” Alfred says standing up. “Night is still young, darling.” He holds his hand out to you. “And there’s one thing I can do right.”

You laugh and take his hand. He guides you to a clear spot on the lawn. The two of you hold each other close and sway to the music playing as the credits roll. You smile as he spins you and pulls you back to him.

The next morning, while you sleep, Alfred takes the business card you gave him and sets it on his nightstand right next to a picture of the two of you. He found the shadowbox frame that was meant for the card and took it to the parlor. He sets inside the frame the polaroid of you, himself, and Bruce.

He sets it on the mantle above the fireplace with a smile.

Translations: Amor - Love, used as a term of endearment Dime, por favor - Please, tell me! Es para tu novio? - Is this for your boyfriend? No tengo tiempo para hablar! - I don’t have time to talk! Es que tengo mucho hacer antes de - It’s because I have a lot to do before-

💕Thank you for reading!💕 💕Sending all my love to you this Valentine’s Day 💕

#Alfred Pennyworth #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred x reader #alfred pennyworth gotham #alfred pennyworth (gotham) #Alfred Pennyworth x latin reader #alfred x latin reader #valentine's day fic

[tinystepsforward]

i am so fucking sad tonight and i used to put that stuff on here like a decade ago so here we are again ig. just.

really horrid combination of things happening right now and it makes me extra upset bc i'm into my second month on low-dose t and the first month was going so fucking well for like. being conducive to the last of my trauma recovery? and then, of course, recovery isn't linear and also my parents seem intent to retraumatise me whenever they can. but like.

english terf hits our shores

completely inescapable discourse, and also targeted abuse, on twitter and elsewhere. also i wrote an op-ed bc our media are useless and we need at least a few trans voices out there (hopefully it does get picked up, but it was gruelling to write)

my mother switches from spreading conspiracy theories about climate change to a sudden and vicious focus on trans people. not that she ever stopped being a bigot but usually it's one post every few months about how conversion therapy works and not several posts a day from people who want trans people murdered

scheduled to be interviewed for a study on conversion therapy survivors on tuesday

scheduled to go on holiday with my family on thursday. i booked a separate room so i won't have to attempt to take my (oral, twice daily with food, specifically bc the endo didn't want me on injections until we knew for sure i wouldn't need to suddenly stop t to avoid extended ptsd episodes) testosterone around family who would be very willing to attempt conversion therapy round fucking four on me

i have no idea if my job will still be there for me when i get back from this scheduled leave bc [gestures at tech companies and ai]

conference all day monday (tomorrow, technically) that i know will eat all my spoons, and that doesn't cater for my dietary needs so i'll have to pack food

and it's like. i am so sad. i am so so sad. i have been making a concerted effort w my family because my paatti (dad's mother) is in town, the one i've talked about before who doesn't know i'm gay and married bc my parents have prevented that happening. and i feel so lonely and so cut off bc as a diaspora/migrant family, and a mixed one at that, my only connection to my cultures is via my parents who fucking hate who i am. so i've been trying to hang out with her when they're not around. i said yes to this vacation, we'll get more time together and some pictures and stuff.

but i'm still fielding her questions about why i don't have a boyfriend. and my parents have decided to, right when i'm most stressed about being trans, and about connection to family, be the worst people they can be about it again i guess? and it's true that my conversion therapy/parental/religion trauma is the stuff i've never come back around to working on in therapy bc my parents are actively reopening the wound every few months and it's. hard to work with that.

fucking like. shocking that i recovered from ptsd once, after [black box of getting csaed more times than i can count], immediately got groomed in a way that's rly fucking complicated to talk about bc my ex is a trans woman who decided to come out as a child-grooming rapist and as trans in the same month, and terfs salivate over the idea of using people like her as a cudgel, and completely forgot that approximately 300 other things, sa and otherwise, happened to me along the way to the point where my psych said she was surprised/proud i haven't killed anyone yet.

so i'm sad about all of them at once rn except the brain injury means i can only hold about two in my active memory at a time and i keep alternating which ones i'm sad about like shuffling several decks of cards really fast i guess.

#tony muses #this is a big long vent post and mentions csa #but it's not a 'don't read will delete later' you are welcome to read it #also cw terf shit and conversion therapy and parental stuff and religious trauma and idk what needs to be tagged. cultural alienation? #i am literally just sad #and transphobes are unavoidable on twt rn