#pumpkin glow bear
Build-a-Bear Halloween 2021 Releases
Pumpkin Glow Bear / Midnight Sparkle Cat
Bear Bones Dino / Pumpkin Spice Bear
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Today's daily furry friend: Pumpkin Glow Bear!
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Spooky squad is here to say, if you're scared that's okay!
Halloween time is almost upon us, time for many of us to watch scary movies, scare our friends, and tell the most horrifying stories you can think up! But if you'd rather eat smores around the campfire without scary stories, watch kid safe Halloween movies and avoid haunted houses that's okay too! Aside from the scare season, autumn, and Halloween, are also about friends and family coming together to ward off the coming chill. Though I may tease my friends for not watching horror movies with me, I promise I don't think less of them, or anyone else! Enjoy the season how ever you want!
Happy Halloween 🎃🐺🐈⬛
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do u guys mind if i also post build a bear stuff... 👉👈
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Todays build a bear of the day is: Pumpkin Glow Bear!
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ACOTAR characters during
🦇👻🎃✨ Spooky Season ✨🎃🔮💀
ACOTAR during spooky season....🦇🎃✨
Feysand + Nyx: That Family™ Spend all their time gushing about their baby's first Halloween. Dresses up in adorable family costumes like three bears or the minions. Throw the biggest party in town complete with music, dancing, games, and elaborate decor. Definitely give out full-size candy bars.
Cassian: "this is my excuse to get naked and be annoying" Dresses up as something ridiculous that lets his nips free. Like a Greek god or a sexy fruit. "Pff. I'm not scared" *immediately screams when startled* Knows all the moves to Thriller. Starts a prank war. Acts macho but is actually a total scaredy-cat.
Nesta: witchy vibes all around. She's scary and sexy. LOVES Halloween. Dresses up like a witch with a deep V and pointy hat. Eats all the chocolate. Freaks out people by memorizing hexes and chants. Can't keep her hands off Cassian. Plans to pin him down on a pentagram and do things to him.
Azriel: the unsuspecting enthusiast. Nobody thought he would dress up but ends up with one of the best costumes. Like a cool vampire or a really hot pirate. Expert with a knife so carves the best jack-o-lanterns. Super sneaky. Loves to jump out and spook Cassian. First in line for the Haunted House. Laughs at things that should be scary. Literally nothing can scare Azriel.
Gwyn: the adorable traditionalist. Loves all the classics. Knows all the lore, history, and tons of spooky stories. Gets super excited like a child. Dresses up as a book character or something historical. Spent weeks making her own costume. Beats Azriel in the costume contest. Sings the Monster Mash and loves playing games.
Emerie: Too cool for Halloween. Content sitting by the fireplace and passing out candy. Loves cozy vibes and warm drinks. Into cult classic films. Wears a "This is my costume" t-shirts but is a good sport. The responsible one of the group and makes sure everyone is being safe and having a good time.
Mor: The Life of the Party. Loves a slutty costume moment. Goes all out with her outfit. She pretty much just wants to get drunk and party with her friends. Unfazed by the horror. You can't scare her. Literally grew up in Hell. Oh, you're dressed like a demon? I thought you were my dad.
Amren: the scary Goth babe. Absolutely terrifying. Knows all your fears. Takes the season way too seriously. Dresses up as something horrifying. Sits in a graveyard 'just for fun.' Thinks Cassian looks ridiculous and scares him all night. Terrorizes children. This is fake blood?
Lucien: the Autumnal King 🍁👑 Embraces the season and goes all out. Loves the outdoors, campfires, the smell of cinnamon. Feels nostalgic and a little bit pretentious. Almost dressed up like Beron bc what could be scarier than your trauma? He is ready for a good time and loves to party.
Elain: the pumpkin spice latte of the group. Dresses up as a cute woodland creature like a deer or a mouse. Gets freaked out by the gore and the horror. More into the cutesy side of Halloween. Loves pumpkin patches and apple picking. Bakes pumpkin-shaped cookies and apple-flavored treats
Tamlin: No one invited him. Dressed up like a werewolf. Passes out toothbrushes instead of candy. A bit of a creep. Steals candy from children. His house definitely gets TP’d and egged. Haunted by the ghost of his past failures and toxic behavior.
The House™: It’s time to shine. Turns into the Haunted House! cobwebs! pumpkins! glow in the dark bats! skeletons in every closet! Bring out the fog! Release the spiders! Blasting 🎼🔊THIS IS HALLOWEEN! THIS IS HALLOWEEN! 🎼🔊 Bryaxis...come out come out wherever you are.... (cassian shrieks in the distance)
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Minecraft lore no. 2: Food
this is a guide to all the potentially edible things that exist in minecraft if you want to put game-accurate food in your minecraft-based fics.
chicken, beef, rabbit, pork, and mutton are common in most player's diets, however some other meats are considered delicacies by some.
bats, parrots, horses, polar bears, pandas, llamas, wolves, and strider meats are eaten by some, but considered morally abject by others.
some claim mooshroom and hoglin meat have distinct tastes from normal beef and pork, tests have proved mostly inconclusive in this matter for mooshroom meat compared to normal beef, but there is a notable textural difference between hoglin meat and normal pork
spiders, bees, and silverfish are also quite edible if one manages to defeat one, but some find the taste, and more often the concept of consuming insects rather objectionable. cave spiders however are best avoided due to the large amount of poison stored through out their bodies, and ender mites are best avoided due to the teleportation magic found within them, eating one often produces similar results to eating chorus fruit.
some consider dragon meat a delicacy, though many could do without due to how hard it is to slay a ender dragon, in addition to avoiding the large amounts of acid and magic stored within a dragon's body.
salmon and cod are the most common sea food, however they are not the only edible animals found within the oceans and rivers of minecraft.
puffer fish is edible with proper preparation, but it is very ill-advised to eat one without proper training in puffer fish preparation.
some people will eat tropical fish, although due to the large amount of species, it is very possible to end up fishing up something poisonous without knowing
calamari is much less risky to acquire, but is objectionable to some. the eddiblity of glow squid has yet to be tested.
while technically edible, many people have moral reservations about eating turtle and dolphin meat.
other animal products:
there are many animal products aside from meat that can be eaten.
mushroom stew, a substance acquired by milking a mooshroom provides a thin milky stew with mushroom dispersed throughout. it however is not spiced in any meaningful way and in quite bland.
milk is gotten from cows via milking, and while it has very little nutritional value can counter the effects of most magical effects as well as providing being used in cooking in many ways. it can also be used to make butter and cheese, both of which are incredibly useful in a large amount of cooking.
honey can be found in beehives and is comprised of flower nectar and bee spit. it can be harvested to serve as a sweetener in many dishes, and can be drunken if you feel like it.
chicken eggs are used in alot of cooking as a binding agent and source of protein. not recommend, but you can eat them raw. not recommended, but you could mix raw eggs and honey to create rather monstrous drink.
dragon eggs are very rare, but sometimes eaten as a delicacy. they are fairly nutritionally similar to chicken eggs.
salmon roe or salmon eggs are small orange colored salty spheres that are often eaten raw.
the mushrooms that grow on mooshrooms can be harvested via shears and are virtually indistinguishable from other mushrooms.
apples are a sweet fruit eaten raw or cooked into desserts
melons are large fruits that grow on a vine with soft red flesh, while they are very tasty they are not recommended for cooking
pumpkins are large orange gourds. the flesh is often used in baking of many kinds, and the seeds are roasted for a nice snack.
sweet berries while they are often eaten raw, they are also great for jam, baked goods, and even wine making.
rose hips not recommended to be eaten raw, they are good for jams, ketchup, soups, and even tea.
cacao beans while they can be eaten raw, are often taken through a process of roasting, drying, and fermentation to be used for cocoa power and chocolate in many deserts and other recipes.
chorus fruit the strange fruits local to the end they are full of teleportation magic and need to be cooked to be safely eaten. they are often eaten raw, but are very dry. they are typically used in baking. they have a unique, but not particularly strong flavor.
potatoes are starchy tubers. they are used in alot of cooking. you know what potatoes are.
carrots are sweet root vegetables. they are eaten raw and used in cooking. you also know what carrots are.
beetroot used in stews, or pickled and eaten, cooked with, or used in salads.
leaves, petals, seeds:
kelp, not typically eaten raw, it is often dried, and used in cooking.
acorns nuts from dark oak trees, they need to be put through a blanching process to become palatable, and are often used to make acorn flour.
alium refers to a large group of plants, this includes chives, onions, and garlic.
tulips have edible petals that are eaten raw or candied
rose petals are edible, and while they can be eaten raw, are often candied or used to make rose water which is often used as flavoring in baking.
dandelions are completely edible, often used in salads.
spruce cones in the springtime when they are green they can be eaten raw or cooked and eaten whole(like a corn on the cob). during the winter the nuts can be extracted and eaten or used in cooking.
spruce tips are the fresh growth that can be found in the springtime, they can be eaten raw, dreid, canied, and used in cooking.
spruce needles are not particularly tasty, but can be eaten in a pinch, and can be used to make tea.
sunflower seeds can be eaten raw or roasted, can also be made into sunflower oil, which is very useful for cooking.
poppy seeds: while the majority of the plant is poisonous, te seeds are often used in cooking to add flavor.
fern tips: the growth tips of ferns, sometimes eaten raw, often pickled.
wheat is a basic grain typically used in baking and occasionally in stews.
brown mushrooms are one kind of mushroom found through the overworld, can be eaten raw, also used in cooking.
red mushrooms: another kind of mushroom native to the overworld, usually used in cooking.
crimson fungus is from the nether and is very dry and fibrous, typically used in cooking if eaten at all.
crimson roots are roots put off from crimson fungus trees. when grated they have a strangely peppery taste and are used as a spice.
spruce and birch inner bark are edible and used as flavoring.
some varieties of jungle tree bark is literally just cinnamon
orchids are typically poisonous, but one verifies seeds are used as a common flavoring in baking. (vanilla beans)
water is water, sea water can be boiled to make sea salt.
this has been an overview of all the potentially edible things in minecraft. (the base ingredients) have fun with your fic writing.
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into the abyss ☆ kth
pairing(s): taehyung x reader
word count: 5.4k
warnings: dom!taehyung, demon!taehyung, sub!reader, female!reader, cursing, big dick!tae, belly bulging, size difference, oral f. receiving, lots of cum *finger guns*
summary: You made a deal with the devil – the devil who was tall and whose presence was thick – but what if he had no interest in your soul at all?
☆ ☆ ☆
“You really didn’t have to pay for dinner.” You whispered into the night air, leaning forward on your seat only to hear the pavement bench squeak under your weight.
Next to you, Hoseok bumped his shoulder into yours lightheartedly. “C’mon, it’s Halloween. What other night would we be able to see tacky decorations all over town?” He gestured towards the busy restaurants across the street, which had turned into a sea of fake spiderwebs and plastic skeletons.
It was late. You hadn’t checked the time but you knew early morning came. Though one look at the town would've made you think otherwise.
Halloween night was a fairly busy time for Seoul, especially this street, its store windows lined with a blend of orange, green and black. You've never really been a fan. If you never saw a pumpkin ever again, you would not complain.
You let out a laugh at your friend, softly, and finally ceased the nervous tapping of your foot against the cement ground. When you remained quiet, Hoseok continued.
“Plus, I think a good break from all that overthinking you’re doing was much needed.” He tapped your forehead with the tip of his index finger. All your worries flooded back in giant waves.
You groaned as you tipped your head back, resting it onto the head of the bench. “They should’ve responded by now. It’s been a month, a whole month! If I was rejected, at least have the decency to tell me.”
Hoseok’s tapping finger smoothed over the frown on your face. You couldn’t help but crack a little smile. “Y/N, any school would be lucky to have you, you know that. You’re the best dancer in the country. Do I need to remind you of the number of trophies you have in your room? I worry about the weight of it on that poor Ikea desk.”
Another laugh from you, but it was short-lived as despite his attempts, the anxieties in your chest could not simmer. Your fingers were already itching to check your email for the umpteenth time that day, so desperate for any type of response.
Even Hoseok’s little Halloween outing couldn’t stop the myriad of worries that floated in your head. Never had you been this nervous over an application, but it was no surprise considering it was from Korea’s top dance academy, the most competitive of the country.
The school that for years seemed like a mere dream but now was only a grasp away.
You were too close to let it slip from your hold, and the very thought of your dream running from you just like that, so abruptly when it was at the tip of your fingers, made you sick.
Korea’s top dance academy – the title alone chased away any of your remaining self-confidence.
With a sigh, you fluttered your lashes up and cast your eyes to the sky. It was a large black-hole, light pollution causing it to be devoid of color. and the wisp of your breath into the cold air floated up, until it dispersed before you.
Past the cloud, past the branches of the tree that partially hid your view, you could see a glint.
On the bench, you sat up, narrowing your eyes at this strange light in the sky. It almost shimmered, glowing a hue of green that stuck out like a sore thumb among a sea of black. A star? It couldn’t have been. You’ve never heard of a star shining anything other than bright white.
“Hey,” You murmured, tapping Hoseok’s knee lightly to catch his attention. “Do you see that?”
Your eyes finally rip from the mysterious glow in the sky only to see your friend deeply focused on his phone.
His mouth opened in response but his phone rudely interrupted, its buzzing drowning the hum of the street. He tutted, flashing his screen to you. Yoongi’s name, accompanied with a slew of emojis and hearts, displayed on his phone.
“So clingy,” He said. There was a hint of fondness to his voice, and before you could reply, he was getting up and excusing himself down the street.
You sighed once more, leaning back on the bench as your eyes went back to the sky.
With creased brows, you stared in confusion. The mysterious glow had completely disappeared, the black sky staring back at you mockingly.
“You know, Halloween’s a wonderful time for dreams to come true.” A voice arose from next to you, suddenly.
You jumped and your neck snapped to the left as a surprised squeak left your lips. You couldn’t even feel embarrassed.
Clad in a black suit, a man was leaning his forearms against the back of the bench you sat on. His fingers, adorned in a slew of shiny rings, clasped together tightly. He wasn’t looking at you. Honestly, you would’ve believed he couldn’t even see you as he hardly gave any acknowledgment.
You scooted down the bench cautiously. “Why Halloween?” You questioned quietly, an eyebrow raised. “Most people think it’s a scary time. Spooky season, you know.” Your voice was humorous, slight smile on your face, but you could feel something sinister hanging in the air.
The man chuckled dryly. “The spirits are generous if they take a liking to someone.” He spoke. Under the street lamp, the fluorescent light gave his honey skin a warm glow. His dark hair was neatly styled, and it obscured his view but it didn’t seem to bother him.
All you could see was his side-profile, but you knew he was attractive. Astonishingly.
You remained cautious.
He smiled, at nothing seemingly, his eyes finally moving from the passersby across the street to spare you a glance.
His eyes were glowing, glowing. You had to blink a few times to even believe it, though there it was, a pair of luminous green orbs floating before your view, boring into your blown out eyes.
The same strange feeling in your chest from earlier grew rapidly, and your heart rate followed suit. Everything in you screamed at you to run. Your fight or flight instinct was kicking at full gear yet, your body suddenly seemed much too heavy to move.
You were bolted into the wooden bench, and all you could do was stare back.
“Besides,” The man continued. He leaned back into a standing position then rounded the bench and plop himself next to you. His elbows rested behind him on the head of the bench, long legs stretched in front of him.
“When did scary become a bad thing? Such a juvenile word. Yet quite amusing.” He ran his fingers over the bottom of his lips as his it stretched into a smirk. His voice heavy, a deep baritone that sunk deep in you and made you want to simultaneously recoil and lean in.
You wondered if this was some sort of street gimmick for Halloween this year. Stores liked to lean into the holiday, despite its briefness. Last year it was some poster going around about a restaurant giving out free meals to anyone who could ‘survive’ in their spooky room.
With this in mind, your cautiousness simmered, slightly, and you crossed your arms together, your eyes moving back to the happy groups across the street. You wondered when your roommate was going to come back and save you from whatever this was.
You were quieting the part of you that still urged you to flee.
“I’m not interested in buying anything you’re selling.” You said, trying to keep your voice leveled.
He clicked his tongue. “Don’t be naive. It's a sin that knows no bounds.” His eyes remained on you, and despite your attempt to focus on the crowds passing, you could not shake his gaze off. He continued. “I’m not selling anything at all, but I can always sense a soul in... dire need.”
Your chest fluttered, for one reason or the next, and the air got much too brisk for you to bear. There was no fighting anymore, your legs finally listened to you and you pushed yourself off your seat.
“This is a funny shtick, I’ll admit, but I, er, have someone waiting for me.” You pointed somewhere behind you, trying your best not to stumble on your feet. “I don’t have anything to wish for, anyway.” You quickly added, waving him away as you turned on your heels, ready to flee.
But there he was again before you. Out of thin air, standing in front of you with a knowing smirk wide on his face. There was no questioning in your head the how of it, because it was the first time you were really taking him in.
He was tall. Very tall. He easily towered over you, the simple way he looked down on you making you cower.
His entire aura was so… heavy. It was a strange word to describe one’s presence but everything about him made your knees want to buckle under his weight. He was too much to bare.
“I would have thought the country’s most skilled dancer would have a few things to wish for.” He murmured lowly, the vibrato of his voice making you weak as you inhaled deeply. "Money? Fame? Perhaps... an acceptance letter?”
Your mouth hung slightly.
Was he eavesdropping on you?
You wanted to chide him for invading your privacy so blatantly but it died at the tip of your tongue. Your head was racing. “I,” It was all you could manage as your eyes cast down.
He drew in closer, taking the two strides it took to close the gap between both of you and he used the tip of his index finger to push your chin up. You were stilled. “I told you, the spirits can be generous if they choose be.”
With him this close, you were starting to lose your peripheral vision, Like the world was caving in, like he was seeping into your mind.
"What, do I have to sell my soul?” You quipped with a nervous smile in an attempt to disperse the fog that began to surround you, but there was no humor in your voice.
To that he cocked an eyebrow.
From behind you somewhere, you could hear the pitter-patter of footsteps coming, but all you could focus on was the overwhelming presence before you.
"Call my name.” He answered.
His voice was a whisper as his hot breath hit your lips. You could hardly hold his gaze, his eyes were becoming too much, too dark, too weighing, but he kept your chin up with his finger.
Hoseok beckoned from behind but it melted in the background. The surrounding passersby, the restaurants, the ground below you, it all began to melt like wax and into nothing.
You didn’t know it, at least you didn’t think you did, yet it hung at the tip of your tongue. “T…” It was like it was deep in your memory without your realization. You gasped when it came to you.
A dark chuckle echoed around you, jarring and loud, and you felt your heart drop. The man reached for your face and held it in his hands. “Good girl.” He almost growled the words as his lips brushed against yours.
You leaned in, unknowingly, like you were being drawn into the den of the wolf but he chased his lips away teasingly.
His tongue glided over your bottom lip and a soft groan escaped his lips. Something in him had completely shifted. You could feel it in his hold, and could hear it in his inhales. He pecked your lips briefly and he groaned again, as if surprised. "Taste so... sweet.”
It was then that he kissed you deeply, feverishly moving against your lips as he pulled you flush against him. It knocked any of the remaining air out of your lungs
His hands moved from the hold on your face to travel down your body, and he gripped your waist, beginning to part your lips as you allowed his tongue to roughly explore your mouth.
He was kissing you like he was drinking your essence, pulling you closer like you were the very thing he needed to survive. Your stomach churned.
You were falling.
The street and restaurants had long disappeared now, and you were surrounded by darkness as the feeling of the ground beneath you vanished. Your legs stood on nothing, you sunk deeper into the bottomless pit, and your hands grasped at Taehyung as if he was all you could reach.
Your were curving up into him, your fingers moving to feel cool white bed sheets under you and you gripped it so tight your knuckles changed colors.
Eyes finally ripped open, you darted your head around to discover your quaint little bedroom. It was just the way you left it that evening. The same cold cup of tea sitting by your desk and the same spilled laundry basket by the door
A question began on your lips, but the tongue pressed deep against your folds made the words die in the back of your throat.
It was only then you were aware of your stark nakedness, and even more so of the man between your legs.
Taehyung's hold of your thighs was strong, and as he buried himself further between your legs, you could feel yourself further crumbling.
“So fucking good.” He growled against you, which only made you whimper, feeling his tongue lay flat on you before he rapidly moved it against your folds.
Your back arched further off the mattress. A rush of pleasure so sweet was running through you. He lapped against your pussy, sucking all your juices before they could drip down on the sheets, hardly giving himself any chance to breathe but he did not seem to care.
His tongue was sinful.
The tip of it poked against your fluttering hole, and it pulled out noises out from you you'd never heard, making you feel things you'd never felt before.
Taehyung pulled away only to gleam at the meal before him, satisfied and wet grin on his face. "So fucking sweet,” His voice was a rumble that shook your thighs. He seemed enthralled, hungry, and he ran his tongue up your folds again only to press his tongue flat on your clit. He then closed his lips around it.
Taehyung sucked harshly, and you moaned out into the walls of your bedroom, grip of your sheets deadly tight. “Tae… ah-fu–“ You made a drawn-out noise, squeezing your thighs around his head.
It was all so obscene; the sound of his lips sucking on you, the mewls from you that followed, his small huffs and growls.
He nipped your inner thigh, his dark eyes never leaving the fucked-out look on your face, it never left you. He chuckled in glee. “Where have you been for all my lives?”
The loud buzz of your phone against your bedside table made you jolt awake, sitting up from your disheveled bed. Your hair was sticking out every which way, and it mirrored the mess your sheets were in. Your breath stuttered.
Peaking under your covers, a wet pool looked back at you mockingly and you flushed.
A dream. A stupid dream. You could curse your mind for being so cruel.
You leaned to pick your phone, and seeing the name of your work manager flashing on the screen only made you groan as you looked at the time. You quickly shuffled out of bed.
Decline. You were much too frantic to be yelled at at the moment.
As you walked around your room, you slipped out of the clothes you slept in, digging through your closet to look for your work uniform.
“Hoseok! Where’s the clean laundry?” You called from your closet, poking your head out only to be rudely ignored.
A pair of black jeans and a button up white shirt would have to do.
Hurried mornings like these were nothing new to you. You’d gotten skilled at multitasking and being able to dip into the bathroom and come out with a toothbrush hanging from your mouth, your hair and face looking presentable.
You slipped your clothes on with speed, walking out your room to scurry to the kitchen as you looked through the notifications on your phone.
Hoseok was sat in his boxers on the counter, nibbling on a piece of toast. “Morning.” He mumbled mid-bite and you held back a nag, instead nabbing his toast as you ignored all his complaints.
You continued your scrolling.
A message from a group chat at 3 AM, about 5 miscalls from your manager, a YouTube notification, nothing you had any time to pay attention to right now, but you stopped scrolling when an email notification came to your view.
“Fuck,” You mumbled, halting your hurried steps.
“What?” Hoseok asked as he hopped off the marble counter and walked to the fridge.
You took in a sharp inhale, thumb hesitantly hovering over your screen. “It’s the academy.” You whispered.
Hoseok’s eyes widened, poking his head out of the fridge to look at you. “What’d they say?”
With one last huff, you clicked on, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. Your eyes only read the first line before you groaned and recoiled. You couldn't read it. Your heart felt like it would give out.
“Give me,” Your friend gestured for your phone, and you gladly handed it to him as you sat back on the couch, nibbling on your thumb.
He was quite for a few seconds, then Hoseok began reading out loud, pacing behind you with his phone in his hand. “Blah, blah, thank you for your interest…” Another silence.
“So?” You could've sworn your heart literally fell to the pits of your stomach. The very dam of worries you were trying your best not to let stream broke, and you shook your head in defeat. “I knew it–“
“You got in, Y/N.” When you turned, Hoseok was looking at you with his usual giant grin, turning the phone to show you.
The phone was snatched from him and your eyes quickly scanned the email. Again, And again. The words hardly registered in your head.
You got in.
There must've been something in human evolution that made it absolutely impossible to shake the feeling of watchful eyes on you. Something in us humans that made it even more impossible to relax because of it.
You were reminded of this repeatedly as you entered your apartment later that night.
Back from work, you were met with a dark and empty living room, yet your skin tingled with the feeling of eyes on you. It was there as you slipped out of your coat and shoes, and it was there as you walked to the fridge.
You noticed the note stuck on the fridge door. Another night of Hoseok late at the studio. You sighed, pulling out a snack from the fridge before moving to sit in front of the TV on the couch, switching it on.
It was there. Something was there, and despite your attempt to focus on whatever show was on at that time, your instincts begged for you to search for whatever was looming over you. As if you were being warned.
You couldn’t shake the feeling off, no matter how much you tried to quiet your mind.
You looked at the empty and dark hall that led to the rooms, pressing your lips together. “Hobi, are you home?” You called, but you were met with silence.
“Wrong guess. You may try again, though.” A voice came from the kitchen.
Your eyes widened. You could hear your heart pounding in your ear, and you hesitantly turned your head to see the voice's owner walking out the kitchen into the room like he’d lived there for years.
Taehyung. Tall and dark, dressed sharply, making everything in you shrink and your entire body shake.
Hours ago, you had convinced yourself the happenings of that Halloween night was nothing but a cruel dream, you were sure it was a result of too much stress and no sleep, a strange mix that your led brain to concoct it, but here the man was.
The atmosphere of your entire apartment shifted.
You jolted up from your seat, legs stepping away while he continued to approach you. “How did you-“
“Don’t you have a deal to fulfill?” Taehyung interrupted, parading around your living room with his hands his in his usual black pants suit. He walked past where you stood stunned by the foot of the couch, replacing your seat.
It took you a minute to be able to formulate some kind of answer. "D-deal?
He shook his head. “I forget how stupid you humans can be.” His eyes were deeply bored on the TV screen, yet it didn’t seem to interest him at all. “Shall I remind you of your wish?”
It was like the world was coming down on you. “That was you? How did you–“
He clicked his tongue to quiet you like you were an annoying pest. He didn’t answer your question. “You owe me a lot, little one.”
“I wasn’t granting a wish! I didn’t ask anything of you.”
“And yet here we are,” He stood up and walked to you.
As he stepped closer to you, you only stumbled back, shuffling until you could feel the press of the wall behind you.
He had you cornered.
He leaned down to meet your face and you swallowed thickly.
“Do you remember that night?” His breath was hot. “You asked if the price was your soul, do you remember that?” There the heavy presence was, and this time, your legs actually did buckle.
Your entire body was shaking as you fell to your knees before him, your nails pressed into the floor. He towered over you, smug smile on his face, dragging his fingers on the edge of your jaw only to grab your chin.
Though you had thought of it many of times, you never knew what you'd actually do when faced with your own mortality. Flee? Fight? Cry? Your body seemed to be able to do nothing but remain still.
The pad of his thumb grazed over your quivering bottom lip, and he dipped it into your mouth. He hummed, brows slightly furrowed. “Your soul would be… lovely.” He whispered. You were shaking. “But, fuck, you taste so sweet,” He hummed. “I don’t think I'm done having my fun with you now that I've gotten a taste.”
He flashed his grin as the memory flooded back in your mind. Could you even trust your memory anymore? You weren’t sure what to believe. The only thing you could vividly recall was Taehyung between your legs and how his tongue felt pressed on you.
“Fragile. You humans are so fragile.” He chuckled at the tiny whimper that left your lips and he crouched down to eye level, his fingers traveling up to nestle in your hair, tugging it harshly. He looked hungry. His eyes glowed.
You gave in to his hold as he twisted your head up, a panic quivering over your entire body.
This time you did not cower from his dark gaze. Comfortable. You were much too comfortable with the void that was his eyes. You quivered again. “What… What are you?”
Taehyung dragged the hand in your hair down to your jaw, and he held it with might, licking over his bottom lip before biting down. His eyes scanned over your face before a devilish smile grew on his face. “Your best nightmare.” His voice was barely above a whisper but it echoed so loudly in your head.
His lips met yours.
They were familiar, rough yet soft against yours, but it awoke something in you that you were sure had been dormant before then. Heat rose from your stomach and up to your chest, replacing the panic that once lived there.
Taehyung was softer than last time, cupping your chin as he tilted his head to allow your tongues to meet.
Your whole body tingled, the feel of his frame leaning on yours as his hands pulled you closer felt almost forbidden. Minutes ago, you were faced with your mortality yet that very thought completely dissipated under the man’s touch.
Nothing in you screamed at you to flee. You could only feel the growing need in you, rather than the impending danger.
Taehyung pushed you down onto the floor on your back, lips never parting as he pressed his body from above you. His hands roamed freely over your body, claiming you as his, claiming you as his own.
He was hungry and intense, and you had been too lost in his overwhelming scent to notice the nimble fingers that slipped under your shirt. He was hot to the touch, yet you pushed into his fingers, feeling his large hands cup your breasts.
Taehyung pulled back, and you couldn’t quiet your whine of disapproval. Your lips felt bare. “Patience, lovely. I don’t like a brat.” He moved his hands out from your shirt and tugged on the button placket with so much force the buttons gave out, trickling around you as you laid bare.
His eyes darted everywhere on your naked chest, nibbling harshly on his bottom lip. Under his gaze, you could cower but before you did, he dipped down to wrap his lips around your left perky nipple, teeth teasingly grazing over it.
Though you could feel the uncomfortable press of the hardwood floor against your back, you could hear the noise of the TV, it all hardly mattered as Taehyung surrounded all of your senses.
He bit your nipple, and his hands moved to your jeans. “Take your pants off.” His voice was a thunder and you hurriedly moved under him to unbutton your jeans and wiggle your legs out of its confines.
He watched as he nibbled on his lip, moving his hands down the side of your waist, then the side of your thighs. He was entranced. “I knew you’d be a good girl for me.” He said, lips finding your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses over the shivering skin until he began grazing his tongue over it.
Taehyung hooked his finger on your panties but didn't tug it down. His other hand dipped between your legs and the pads circled the wet patch of fabric.
“Are you my good girl, Y/N?” He was fervent against your clit, and you gasped out, gripping him with force, as if he was preventing your slip.
You weren’t aware that he’d removed your panties down until you felt a finger poking against your desperate hole.
You whined again, shamelessly. “I’m your good girl.” You gasped the words as one finger pushed into you, then his middle finger followed. You could feel the press of his rings, and your back arched as his fingers curled in you.
“Yes, you are.” He gleamed at you, pushing your fingers deeper into you. “Fuck, you’re such a treat. Look at you,” Your body flushed but there was no room for embarrassment.
Taehyung dipped down to catch your lips again as his fingers roughly thrusted in and out of your wet pussy.
You almost heard him grin. Taehyung pulled his fingers out of you.
You looked down and it was only then you finally took in the scene — your legs open wide; Taehyung, this thing, hovering over you like an impending figure; his fingers glistening with your juice — it was lewd.
Taehyung finally pulled himself out of his pants and you truly couldn’t help but gawk. The sheer girth sent a sweet shiver up your spine.
His cock was angry red, shaft lined with visible veins as a pearly bead sat at the tip of his head.
He fisted it briefly, then dragged the tip up and down your folds, making both of you moan softly. "Beg again. Let me hear you beg.”
You whined loudly, gripping onto him hardly as your hips attempted to move against his cock. “Please, give me,” You huffed, squeezing your eyes shut. "Please fuck me,” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him in closer.
Quick to answer your wishes, it was only a few seconds before Taehyung plunged his swollen cock into you, at least the very tip. Your hips stuttered and your thighs pressed against his sides, and you inhaled deeply. Your head was blank and you groped for him as though you were blind.
“Taehyung,” You managed to moan out.
And he was kissing you again, softly, gently, strong hands stilling the movement of your hips as he pushed further deep in you. “Give in to me, Y/N.” He was mumbling, ordering, against your lips.
Your body was leaning into his, hips sinking down onto the overwhelming length, soul being pulled to him. You had already given in to Taehyung. You were giving him your all.
When he fully nestled in you, you pushed out a breath you had no idea you were holding.
He filled you to the brim, pressing against your walls, making your thighs shake, as his cock bulged in your stomach.
Your eyes were closed, but you could almost see vividly as he dragged his cock out before he fucked himself in you roughly.
He was slow, initially, rhythmic, like he was being careful though you could tell he was holding back.
A wave of bliss and then a sweet tremble went through you, and from there, the world around you dissipated and you happily sunk into the abyss.
There was no worry, or fear, just the bliss.
You clung harder on him. He swore, licking and nipping at your skin. “So… big.” You were dizzy.
Taehyung roughly snapped his hips and his cock plunged in you once again. “Fragile. So soft and pliant. Is it too much for you, baby?” His tone was light as he licked you neck and he groaned.
You nodded but you pulled him in closer.
Though Taehyung was stretching you out beyond belief, it was a feeling you could not get enough of.
“So,” You gasped, taking in the sound of his cock fucking in and out of you. Obscene. “So good.”
He growled, biting down on your neck hard. “There’s my good girl.”
His speed quickened, picking your hips and digging his feet into the floor as he feverishly fucked your hole.
There was no sound left to come out of you. He was hitting a spot you had no idea was ever in you.
Toes curled, you threw your head back onto the floorboards and you cried out, your entire body shaking as your orgasm washed over you hard.
Taehyung fucked one last thrust in you, one so rough your moans bounced off the walls of your apartment. It was the last thrust you needed to push you over the edge.
Your hips shuddered, and your thighs shook violently, the pleasure coursing through you so overwhelming there was hardly anything you could do but cling onto him.
Taehyung came into you hard. He filled you more than he already did and you could feel his cum seep deep into you.
He swore again, his chest panting heavily. It was several seconds before he was pulling himself out of you and you whimpered at the empty feeling, your walls clenching around nothing.
He inhaled. His eyes were cast down on the mess on the floor and you looked down to see his cum spill out of you in thick streams. It didn’t stop as you both laid still, allowing yourselves to come down.
“Don’t waste.” He mumbled to you, still looking as his cum trickled out. He used the tips of his fingers to scoop the fluid and push it back in you. You moaned.
When he finally moved to crash next to you, both your heavy breathing harmonized. On your floor, laying with this man-this thing, both of you nude and sullied, you at least had that in common.
You peered at him. “Are you,” You bit your lip hesitantly as another sigh left your lips. A pause. “Are you still going to take my soul?” The words barely seemed ridiculous to you now.
He laughed. And it was the first genuine laugh you heard from him ever.
“That may have to wait. I feel I’m going to have fun with you.”
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every important/interesting/fun detail i noticed in roman holiday for anyone who can’t and does not want to read the book (SPOILERS AHEAD)
-roman was a teenager (an old enough one to be a strong fighter) when neo was eight, making him most likely 8-10 years older than her.
-at the same time, lil miss malachite was in her 30s. With this in mind, roman was probably also in his 30s by the time of his death in v3, meaning neo was at least 20 years old at that time.
-lil miss has apparently had the same outfit for roughly the past 15 years.
-neo played video games as a kid, including plenty of driving and flying simulations. gamer neo confirmed.
-neo seems to be able to vocalize as far as things like gasping, sighing, and laughing. her laughing is said to sound like hiccuping.
-neo’s heterochromia is natural, and her parents would be her wear a brown contact lens over her pink eye when in public.
-neo’s imaginary friend, who she got her current name from, was purely in her head as a younger kid, but later became one of her illusions.
-neo uses texting to communicate when she can’t do so with gestures.
-roman was a member of the spiders
-melanie and miltia did indeed once live with their mother in mistral, and roman shared a safehouse with them, as he was the only person lil miss trusted to protect them. roman seemed to care for them as younger sisters, though finding them annoying.
-the twins are a year older than neo
-roman worked with a woman named chameleon while part of the spiders, who had a one-sided friendship with and crush on him.
-capivara - giant ratlike grimm with glowing red streaks running along its body, with white barbs on the end of a long tail, long, sharp claws, and double rows of finger-length teeth. comes from the deserts in menagerie.
-neo had a tutor named aurelia, rather than attending any school.
-roman was kicked from the spiders after undergoing side jobs for his own purposes, after which he moved to vale.
-the mistrilian city of kuchinashi, the setting of the grimm campaign, in mentioned, as is a character from it, lemon.
-roman’s mother left him in an orphanage in the town of wind path as a child, kickstarting his inability to trust people.
-neo literally tried to learn to pick locks from online tutorials.
-neo picked up the idea of using a parasol as her weapon after she used one to slow her fall from jumping out of a window after accidentally setting the family mansion on fire.
-’the girl that fell through the world’ was named alyx- very clearly an alice in wonderland reference.
-after the fire incident, neo’s parents sent her to an all-girls academy.
-two huntsman show up named roch szalt and kandi floss and i’m laughing my fucking ass off. and you guys thought trivia was a bad name.
-we meet junior’s father, hei xiong, and the three bears references are very blatant. the guy loves oatmeal. he knew neo’s father and used to bring her fairy tale books as presents.
-roman got his pumpkin motif because it was the first thing offered to him to cover up the tattoo he’d gotten while working for the spiders.
-hey howdy hey the malachite twins ended up at the same academy as neo. they were bitter enemies.
-neo was made to use a voice app to communicate at the academy, which she hated.
-the fairytale ‘the gift of the moon’ is referenced.
-neo knows how to sew.
-neo does indeed use her semblance to make half of her hair pink to begin with, but later dyed it in order to save aura.
-neo met roman for the first time after following the malachite twins and saving him after the twins and a bunch of spiders corner him.
-neo’s emblem comes from the symbol of the academy, and represents harmony and balance, which is explained to her by the academy’s headmaster after she approves of neo’s change of look.
-neo was secretly tasked by her headmaster to keep an eye on and capture roman, and she properly learned to fight there. of course, as she gets closer with roman, she ends up wanting to help him instead.
-the first time neo referred to herself as neopolitan is when she introduced herself to roman. it was initially a cover to not reveal too much about herself to him, but she decided it felt right and took on the name for real.
-there is an initial bit of what (ahem) some people might consider ship tease when neo and roman talk for the second time, but this is dropped very quickly and can probably just be passed off as neo being an at-the-time 18yo girl who’d not really had any close encounters with older men before. she does give him a kiss on the cheek near the end, but then she also tussles his hair, implying more of a familial bond (but we knew that already).
-roman had been wearing a bowler had for years, but it was neo who gave him the one he wore in the show. the feather has a transponder in it that neo uses to find him. she also later gives him the outfit he wears.
-neo designed her weapon, but roman ordered it for her from a weaponsmith in mistral.
-remnant has a ‘dr pepper’ copycat called ‘dr piper’.
-a car described as a sedan is mentioned. either real-life names for types of cars are used in remnant, or this was an oversight.
-neo’s been able to pilot aircraft since she was 18. she learned from online training videos.
-lisa lavender plays a role in saving roman and neo at the book’s climax. not joking.
-at age 18, neo was too short to see over a steering wheel :’)
-roman doesn’t kill neo’s parents :/ they instead end up killed, along with hei xiong, when their mansion explodes.
-glynda is apparently vale’s most famous huntress.
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Papa Bear fluff please? For the writing prompts
The first kiss you received was placed oh so gently on to your cheek after he brushed a few strands of hair away.
The second was placed a little lower, right against the curve of your jaw as his hand lightly slipped underneath your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin.
The third easily found itself upon your neck, lasting a little bit longer than the others as he let out a small sigh of content.
And the fourth was-
Your tired and sleep filled tone was met with a small grumble from the large skeleton who currently had his arms wrapped around you, his face currently buried within your neck as he placed another tender kiss along it’s surface.
“...What are you doing?”
“I noticed,” you giggled, turning your head a bit so you could plant a kiss of your own along Sans’ temple. “You know what else I noticed?”
“It’s 2 am.”
A beat passed while he placed another kiss along your neck.
“...Why are you smooching me at 2 am?”
“cause i love you.”
You couldn’t help but actually laugh this time both from his sweet response and from the ticklish kiss he placed right against the crook of your neck, making your body scrunch in defense.
“Sans!” you complained in your half hearted attempts at defending yourself, earning yourself a deep chuckle that rumbled in his ribcage.
Oh you could hear it in his tone, he was teasing you now. So that’s how it was going to be, huh?
“I think you missed a spot,” you said slyly, turning to lay on your back as Sans lifted his head to look at you.
That single white eyelight of his pierced through the darkness of your bedroom as it admired you, seeming to roam over your whole face as if trying to figure out exactly where he missed.
You lightly tapped your lips, watching as his cheeks seem to light up in a dusting of magic, making you giggle.
“Right here, big guy.”
He smiled, slowly leaning in towards you as you closed your eyes in anticipation for him to finally kiss you...
What was he-
You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth at the sound you let out, another rumbling laugh spilling out from Sans as he released his gentle bite upon your earlobe.
“Sans!” you very quietly hissed, lightly smacking his shoulder.
“...what?...thought you said i missed a spot..” he hummed, that teasing note still in his tone.
“I was talking about my lips you dork!”
“.....i know,” he laughed, placing another kiss upon your cheek as you pouted. “.....i just... like savin’ the best for last... and that’s when i noticed i missed... a few more spots..”
You couldn’t even be that angry with how cute his crooked smile was. Still...!
“Stars above, at least warn me next time! Hopefully I didn’t wake the kids..” you huffed, trying to listen for any rustling and crying from down the hall from your shout.
Sans on the other hand didn’t seem worried in the slightest and he chuckled again.
“...if they can sleep through a... thunderstorm, then they could probably... sleep through your squeaking..” he mumbled gently, nuzzling you.
“...You’re just trying to justify the fact that you’re going to kiss me more, huh?”
Dang it your big ol’ bear of a husband was just waaaay too cute! Especially when he let out one of those deep, grumpily sighs of content as he nuzzled you some more.
“Well.. can I return the favor at least?” you asked softly, making Sans pause briefly before pulling back.
You giggled at the goofy, love struck smile on his face as you cupped his head in your hands.
The very first kiss you planted gently onto his cheekbones, the very same ones still barely lit with magic as they illuminated the space between you two in a soft glow.
The second you placed a little lower, near the edge of his jawbone and following the curve of it back upward..
Right to the third placement of your kiss, near his damaged socket. He let out a much longer sigh as you placed some more tender kisses around the area, being sure to mind the sharper edges and cracks.
You knew that touching here didn’t hurt him in the slightest, a fact that he adamantly reminded you of when the two of you first started dating. The wound was old, he’d remind you, and being cautious of it only made him feel more.. self conscious about it.
Instead he loved it whenever you kissed him here, making the big skeleton practically turn to mush at such soft and gentle touches.
It was happening right now, as he slowly began to sag more and more before he finally collapsed onto the bed beside you, while you now sat up to smooch your teddy bear just a bit more.
“...honey..” he murmured sleepily between your kisses.
Your him turned into a laugh as it caught on to the sweet expression he had on his face. He seemed to gaze up at you with a certain look in his half-lidded eye socket.
“What, did I miss a spot?”
“..mhm...” he said, lightly tapping a claw to his teeth. “...right here..”
“Really? I could’ve sworn I already kissed you there..” you said, tapping your chin thoughtfully.
His tone was a little needier now, making your heart nearly burst with warmth, but you were determined to tease him just a bit more as payback for biting you earlier.
Well how could you possibly say no to that? Especially with the way he was looking at you, that little whit eyelight of his turning into a heart as it admired you so.
“Alright alright.. but only because I love you so much..”
“i love you too.”
He was just too cute.
That’s why you gave him a big ol’ smooch right on that goofy smile of his.
...And several more after that.
check out my other writings | feel free to drop me a ko-fi!
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breakfast at midnight // r.l.
Summary: It turns out you aren’t the only one who can’t sleep tonight.
Contains: Y’all better schedule a dentist appointment on account of this here tooth rotting fluff.
You had a habit of staying up till ungodly hours every now and then. It was barely midnight, but tonight would be no exception, you decided as you slipped out of your dorm room and padded down the moving stairs. You weren’t sure where you were going or what you were going to do to pass the time, and considered heading back more times than you’d like to admit, but ultimately opted to creep into the library for a late night read.
“Lumos.” you muttered, and were soon able to navigate your way through the familiar twists and turns. You scanned the shelves for something entertaining but were quickly overwhelmed with options. The closer you came to the end of one of the shelves, the more you couldn’t shake the sudden feeling you were being watched. That was when your gaze drifted from the line of books to a set of brown eyes staring back at you from across the shelf.
You jumped and let out a small yelp, wasting no time in casting your wand’s glow on the culprit.
“Godric’s sake, Moony, nearly gave me a stroke!”
“Oh, please, you’ve been hanging around Sirius too much.” Remus snickered and waved your theatrics off as he came around the corner to join you in the otherwise dark shelf passageway. “And what brings you here this fine evening?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” you replied as soon as your heart rate steadied once again, “What about you?”
¨Full moon’s coming up and I’m getting a bit restless myself.” he winced, bringing a hand up to absent-mindedly scratch at the nape of his neck.
“Well, now that we’re both up,” you began, “any ideas on how to pass the time?”
“If I’m honest, I was hoping you would have one.” he chuckled, “Saw you come in here on the map, see.” He handed the Marauder’s Map over to you as he said it.
“Wow, not stalkery at all, Moony.” you teased, but Remus didn’t laugh like he usually did whenever you made a joke.”Remus?”
“Yeah? Sorry, I’m a bit - out of it.”
You were going to say something, you’re sure of it. You knew how hard the full moons were on him and regularly waited up for him and the marauders to return before you even entertained the thought of going to bed. But as you opened your mouth to offer him comforting words, the growl your stomach let out boomed through the corridor.
At first he tried to stifle the laugh, he really did, but when you couldn’t fight back your own, Remus knew he was a goner. There you were, two seventh years out well past curfew, now on the floor, illuminated only by the light of your wands, doing your best to keep the other from laughing too hard. You didn’t know it then, but it was one of the best feelings you’d ever come to know.
“Come on, now. I’ve got James’s cloak.” He announced as soon as he was able to get his bearings, “Let's take a trip to the kitchens, shall we?” There was a certain sweetness to his voice when he spoke. He extended his arm to you the way an old timey gentleman would.
“Why, why, good sir.” you giggled, playing along as he hauled you off the hardwood floor, “What a brilliant idea.” You took his arm, putting on the invisibility cloak as you began on your way out of the library.
“What do you fancy from our culinary facilities, miss?” Remus whispered in your ear as you made your way down the empty halls.
“Hmm, not sure. Perhaps a croissant or two? And you, sir?”
“I could really go for some pumpkin juice. But promise me you’ll go to bed when we’re done. You can be a pill when you’re sleep deprived.”
“I’m always sleep deprived, Moony.” you snorted.
“My point exactly.” He grinned, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the jab.
“Oh, shut up. You know you love me. Just think, what would you do without me?”
“I don’t know, but I probably wouldn’t be having breakfast at midnight.” And with that you turned the corner, arm in arm, kitchen-bound at the stroke of twelve.
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prythian court aesthetics 🕊
Spring Court: Grass stains, wildflowers, cherry blossoms, flower crowns, roses, butterflies, oak trees, dewdrops, forests, meadows, songbirds, sunny fields, bees, gardens and flower vines.
Summer Court: Sunlight, salty air, cool breeze, sandy toes, dolphins, seashells, oceans, warm rays, beach days, water splashes and starfish.
Autumn Court: Pumpkins, candles, foxes, cozy warmth, crackling fire, apples, spicy cinnamon, falling leaves, fuzzy tea, vibrant colours, smooth caramel, melting honey and golden forests.
Winter Court: Snow, frost, reindeer sleighs, hot chocolate, storms, polar bears, fireplaces, warm cookies, cold winds, twinkling lights and fur.
Dawn Court: Sunrises, chirping birds, windows, slow music, soft clouds, poetry, pastel colours, feathers, flower ponds and dancing peacocks.
Day Court: Bright sunlight, rows of libraries, ink and parchment, golden jewellery, white fabrics, spices, majestic temples and lavish chariots.
Night Court: Darkness, constellations, glowing lights, twinkling stars, swirling tattoos, starlight, shadows, mountains, dreams and nightmares.
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With Cherries On Top
Chapter 11: The Wedding & The Confession
Summary/Author’s Note: You and Max made it to the alter. Everything is about to go perfectly according to plan--until a change of heart and impromptu confession calls the whole thing off.
We are so close guys. It's gonna hurt before it gets better.
Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU)
Word Count: 4.3k
Rating/Warnings: R - language, angst, confessions, feelings, cliffhanger, did I mention angst? And the Grinch’s small heart...grew three sizes that day.
[Previous Chapter] [Masterlist]
Sometime in the middle of the night it had started snowing. Big, fluffy flakes slowly fell and twinkled in the early morning sunrise, making it a perfect day for an Alaskan wedding. You felt more like a hostage than a bride, however, as your family all but demanded you stayed in your room to maintain the element of surprise. They brought you breakfast, your dress, makeup bag, but as you sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed you wished they would bring you Max.
He had almost said something the night before. Hadn’t he? It seemed every time he wanted to tell you something important, he got interrupted, or was too nervous to get the words out. Nervous? Max Phillips? No. There was no way. You were projecting your own complicated feelings onto Max in a desperate hope that he felt the same way about you that you did about him. But how did you feel about him? At this point, you weren’t even sure.
Did you love him? No. Maybe? You definitely didn’t want him out of your life or back to the way things were. Things would never be the way they used to be. He was no longer the cold and unfeeling bastard that sat behind his desk and made your life hell. Perhaps when you both got back to New York he would revert back to his old ways. The clock would strike midnight and he would become the metaphorical fanged pumpkin, changing back into a bespoke-suit jackass. No way. You couldn’t see that either.
You smoothed your hands down your dress and traced a finger along the beaded embroidery of the bodice. Max would love it. His large fingers tracing over the lace as the two of you danced--you shook your head, trying to shove down such silly images. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t a real marriage. And you were not the blushing bride or doting husband. This. Was. Pretend.
Despite the temperature outside, you had chosen a dress that accentuated your tits. You’d bear the cold just to see the look on his face when you showed up to a winter wedding with bare shoulders and a sweetheart neckline. The thought made you laugh quietly to yourself, because no matter what had happened this week, Max was still Max. You were still you. And the two of you could figure this out and argue your way through it together. That’s how you did everything else.
A knock at your door brought your attention to it as you stood up and gathered your skirts. “Yeah?”
You felt yourself stop breathing as Max’s voice came from the other side of the door and you hurried to it. When you tried to pull the handle, it stopped, only allowing the door open a few inches. You pulled again and it stayed firm. Max was keeping his hand on the door handle.
“Your grandma would kill me if she knew I saw you before the wedding,” he chuckled but it was humorless.
“Max, come on--” you tried to argue.
“Listen, I needed to tell you something before the wedding.” His voice was stern and the way he kept a handle on what you assumed to be desperation, made you stop talking. “I haven’t seen you all morning and it’s been driving me crazy.”
“Me too,” you agreed quietly as you put your hand on the door where you imagined him to be and leaned your body against it. “Is this about last night?”
“What do you mean?”
“You were going to tell me something. Before my grandma came in,” you bit your lip and swear he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.
Max paused for a minute and you wished you could have seen his face. "No. It's--it's something else."
“Are you okay?” you worried.
“I’m fine.” The door stayed firmly in place but he moved his fingers around the edge and you touched them gently. You heard him sigh softly and he moved his hand just enough to envelop your fingers with his. "Evan was right."
"Don't make me say it again," he said flatly. "You should have been promoted a long time ago."
You laughed and shook your head. "Yeah, I know that Max--"
"But I denied all of the promotion offers on purpose." He said quickly and you felt like the other shoe had just dropped on your face. "I knew giving you what you deserved meant losing you as an assistant."
"You didn’t promote me so you could keep me as your secretary?” you asked, your voice going a little shrill towards the end as you thought off all you had done for him over the last five years. “You selfish, son of a--"
"I know. I know." He cut you off and you yanked on the door but he held it shut with ease. "But that doesn't matter now, because when you get back to New York, they're going to offer you a job with four years of back pay and I want you to take it."
"What job?" you snapped.
"Tell me you'll take it. You deserve it and I need to know you'll tell them 'yes'."
"Yes. Fine. Okay. I'll take the job." You knew your tone was overly exasperated but the sigh of relief he let out was enough to make your chest ache.
"See you at the altar, sweetheart." He said quietly and you bit your lip. "Don't stand me up." His teasing tone was back in his voice and you just needed to touch him. Slap him. Hug him. You hadn’t decided which--maybe both. But you needed to make sure he really was okay and this wasn't just a facade to hide whatever he wasn't telling you.
He let go of the door and you took a breath before pulling it open as fast as you could and stepping out into the hallway. But he was already gone.
“All good to go?” you mother said, rubbing your arms for reassurance and a bit of warmth.
“I kind of want to throw up,” you said with a force laugh as you adjusted your grip on the small bouquet in your hands--white roses and bluebells. Subtle, elegant, winter flowers.
“You’ll be fine,” she said, giving you a quick kiss on both of your cheeks. “It wouldn’t be your wedding day if you didn’t feel like vomiting, dear.”
“And what happens if I do?” you asked with seriousness.
“Vomit?” she laughed. “Aim for the floor. And if you fall, smile and push your tits up.” That got you to laugh back and it made her smile. “The hard part is over, honey. It’s smooth sailing from here on out.”
“What if we get divorced?” you blurted out and her smile fell a bit before shaking her head.
“Honey, if I haven’t divorced your father then you and Max won’t have any trouble at all.” She licked her thumb and tucked a stray strand of hair back into place. “Don’t condemn something before it even starts. You have made it five years without staking the man, surely there is a reason you said yes when he asked you to marry him.”
Her words were rhetorical and even if they weren’t, it wasn’t like you could tell her the truth.
“But what if--”
“Stop.” She gripped your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. “This is a happy thing. Don’t worry yourself with what-ifs.”
She gave you a quick once over and another hug, careful not to mess up your hair, before squeezing your hands. When she started to walk back towards the main area of the barn to give the signal that you were ready, you called out to her.
“Yes?” she stopped at the door and looked back at you kindly.
“How does Max look?” you asked, not knowing what else to say.
She smiled and relaxed her shoulders a little. “Very, very handsome.”
You returned her smile and adjusted your grip on the flowers in your hands. "Thanks mom...for everything."
The music was quiet and you were thankful that everyone remained seated as you walked down the aisle that was already littered with white rose petals. You hated being the center of attention. And yet here you were, on what some would say was one of the biggest days of your life, had any of it been real. The snow fell quietly outside the windows on the pines, catching the glow of the twinkle lights that were still strung up from the party your mom had thrown. You focused on the one person that you wished you could be alone with right now. Max. If only you could make everyone disappear and the two of you could remain.
Your mother had been right, Max looked incredibly handsome. But when didn’t he?
Your grandmother had done an excellent job tailoring the dark blue suit to fit his frame. When you realized it was your grandfather’s suit, it made your chest tight. This was wrong. This was all wrong. He had forgone the tie in favor of having the first few buttons undone on his soft, white undershirt, all tied together by the white flower pinned to his chest. He smiled at you, looking as relieved as you felt to finally see you after spending the night apart, but there was something else. Something in his soft brown eyes that let you know that the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach was also in his.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he mouthed quietly as you handed your flowers off to your mom in the first row and took Max’s outstretched hand.
“Hey,” you said back in the same tone as you took his hands in front of you and looked up at him. “I didn’t stand you up.”
“No, you sure didn’t,” he sighed quietly.
The way he said that made your heart uneasy. Something was wrong. But as the local ordained minister, and more importantly, long time family friend, stood with the two of you and smiled at the crowd of seated people, you knew you couldn’t ask him here.
“Thank you everyone for coming,” the man in front of you said as he smiled and nodded to your parents. “This is exciting!”
You held Max’s hands and shifted your weight over to your other foot just wanting this to be over with already. He gripped your hands back and stepped a fraction of an inch closer to you. Maybe he expected you to faint? Fall over onto the floor? You weren’t entirely sure that you wouldn’t at this point.
“We are gathered here today to give thanks and to celebrate one of life's greatest moments,” the officiant said with another large smile. “To give recognition to the beauty, honesty, and unselfish ways of true love in front of family and friends.”
The crowd gave a soft sigh of adoration and you glanced at your mother to see her gently dabbing her eyes with a cloth handkerchief, careful not to smudge any of her makeup. Fuck. Your own eyes burned and you shut them tightly. You would not cry. You refused to cry. This wasn’t real. But that made it so much worse. Because it was real for everyone but the two of you. Real for your mom, and your dad, and your grandmother…
Max shifted uncomfortably and brought your attention back to him. His face was set in a hard grimace and if you didn’t know any better, you would have said he looked a little green around the gills. If you fainted and Max puked, that would have been the least shocking thing about this wedding.
The officiant continued. “For it is their family and friends who taught them to love. So, it is only right that family and friends are all…”
If they said that phrase one more time you were going to scream. But you wouldn’t have to. The words stopped abruptly and Max shut his eyes tightly and cursed under his breath. He let go of both of your hands and put one of them up in a stopping motion.
“Yes?” the minister asked in surprise.
“Max…” you warned in a whisper.
“Can’t it wait?”
“No,” Max shook his head and rubbed his eyes with a defeated chuckle. “No, it can’t.” He gripped your fingers and kissed your knuckles for what felt like the last time.
“Don’t do this,” you pleaded as you tried to grab his hands again but he carefully avoided your reach.
He turned to the crowd of people, holding his hands out in front of him on display and grinned. The grin made you sick to your stomach. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t the real him. The Max you had seen in the last week slowly faded away and left in his place was his carefully crafted salesman persona. “Hi everyone.”
“Hi.” A few members of the crowd responded in unison and you looked at your mother who was looking at Max with a slack jaw.
“Thank you all so much for coming out,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking forward a bit on the balls of his feet. “I... have a bit of an announcement to make--a confession, actually.”
“What are you doing?” you hissed desperately, gripping the skirts of your dress as you took a step towards him. He ignored you.
“As some of you know, I’m a vampire--” a few gasps came from the older members of your family and he nodded like he had been expecting that reaction. “Yeah, yeah, I know. And I’m a vampire without proper documentation apparently, so, I was about to be deported.”
“You son of a bitch,” your dad said from the first row.
“Dad!” you scolded. Looking up, you saw Mr. Yates standing in the back with a smirk and you wanted to slap it off of his face.
“It’s alright,” Max assured you, looking over his shoulder at you gently, ignoring your father. And you see in order for that not to happen I forced her to marry me.”
“Max, stop it,” you pleaded, but he just gave you a small smile and continued.
“See, your girl here has always had this extraordinary work ethic.” Max clenched both of his fists in front of him for emphasis before turning his attention back to your parents in the front row. “Something I think she learned from you.”
“Max, please,” you tried even though you knew it was useless.
“And for five years I watched her work harder than anyone else at our company. And I knew that if I threatened to destroy her career…” he put his hands back in his pockets and shrugged. “...she would, well, she would do just about anything.”
You felt the first tear slip down your cheek at his words. He sounded so cold, so indifferent to what he was saying, if it weren’t for the slight shakiness in his tone you would have thought that he had meant none of what happened this week. But you knew differently. He was saving you. Just you. You shut your eyes tightly and wished you could press rewind, go back and make things happen differently.
“So, I blackmailed her to come up here and to lie to you.” Max looked pointedly from your mother to your grandmother. “All of you.”
“Oh, Max,” your grandma said, wringing her soft, wrinkled hands in her lap and looking away from him in hurt.
He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “And I thought it would be easy to watch her do it. But it wasn't. Turns out it's not easy to ruin someone's life--” he paused and looked back at you with those soft, amber colored eyes that you loved so much. “Once you find out how wonderful they are.”
You reached for him but he stepped down off of the stage and you let your arms fall back to your sides in defeat. He walked up to the first row of chairs and looked down at your mom.
“You have a beautiful family. Don't let this come between you.” He put his hand to his chest and finished in a serious tone. “This was my fault.”
“Max.” You raised your voice and he turned back to look at you. His lips trembled as he saw the silent tears slowly trailing down your cheeks.
“Sweetheart, this was a business deal,” he said, matter-of-factly. “And you held up your end, but now the deal is off. I'm sorry.”
You picked up your dress so you didn’t trip and hurried down the steps but your father stood abruptly and stepped in your way. Max made a bee-line for the back of the barn and stopped in front of Mr. Yates. Max towered over him and grit his teeth and he pointed at him, almost poking the INS agent in the chest.
“And you, meet me at the dock,” Max snarled. “You're giving me a ride to the airport.”
“You got it,” the other man said with a nod.
Max pushed open the double doors forcefully, letting the cold air into the warmth of the makeshift altar. The snow still fell quietly as you watched him walk out in it, leaving you completely alone in a room full of the people who should have known you best.
The door slammed shut behind you as you made it back to the house. Your father’s footsteps pounded the hardwood behind you as your family followed you into the living room. You gripped your dress, using the texture of the lace to ground you as your heart and mind raced in unison with what to do next.
“What were you thinking!” your dad shouted. It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation.
“I don't,” you stopped and shook your head. “I don't know.” You felt like a child again. It was a pathetic excuse and you knew it. When you agreed to marry Max for the sake of him not being deported, you knew exactly what you were doing. The consequences just hadn’t been important.
“You don’t know?” he barked and rolled his eyes. “That’s not an excuse--”
“And what’s your excuse, hmm?” you spat back at him, throwing your hands up in the air. “You were ready to throw us both to the wolves yesterday! At least Max--” you voice caught in your throat as you said his name. “At least Max tried to--”
“What are you talking about?” your mother looked between you and your father, clearly torn by being in the middle of the two of you.
You both said at once and she knew you were lying by she didn’t push it. Your grandmother came up to you slowly and put her hands on your arm, making you look down at her.
“Honey, you lied to us,” she said gently and your eyes quickly welled up with tears at her forgiving nature.
“I know,” you nodded, giving her hand a squeeze. “Let me get my head on straight, okay? I'll explain everything later. I'm sorry.” You pushed the edges of your skirts together and hurried up the stairs to your bedroom.
The door clicked behind you and you felt your shoulders drop in relief. It felt good to be alone. To have the silence to clear your head. The relief was short lived however as you looked around and realized that all of Max’s things were gone. The suit he had worn was hung neatly on a hanger and left on the armoire, a hurtful reminder of just how handsome he had looked up on that altar.
“Max?” you said hopefully, hurrying to the bathroom just in case.
His shoulder bag with his premade smoothies was gone, along with his toiletries and the large suitcase that had sat on his side of the bed. The emptiness of the once cozy shared space made an involuntary sob come from your throat as you put your hands to your mouth and tried to stop it. He left. He had really left.
You looked to the bed and thought about the way he held you, kissed you, fucked you. Was he really going to throw it all away? Was Max fucking Phillips giving up what he wanted? You wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told you weeks ago that this was how it would play out. Or perhaps he was being a coward. Perhaps it was easier for him to uproot his entire life to another country than to face how he really felt about you? Now that, that you believed. The thought made you roll your eyes.
While looking at the bed, you noticed the brightly colored, handmade ‘baby maker’ quilt had been folded neatly at the foot of the bed. It served as a backdrop for the items that had been carefully placed on top--the wooden box with your grandfather’s cuff-links and a note.
With shaky hands, you unfolded it and started crying all over again. Fuck.
You clutched the letter and were torn between ripping it to shreds and saving it for as long as you needed to. You had to reread the last line multiple times as each time you reached the nickname you both loathed because of its vulgarity and loved because it was so Max, your tears blurred your vision too much for it to be legible. He cared about you. He had to. But he was a coward. A coward and a fool!
“Asshole!” you screeched as you threw the letter onto the bed and looked at the ring on your finger. “Fucking asshole!” The ruby in the gold setting seemed to be taunting you.
“Honey?” your mom said as she opened your door. The sound made you jump and put a hand to your chest. “I didn’t mean to--I knocked, but…”
“It’s fine. It’s fine,” you waved her away, rubbing furiously at your eyes as she walked in and quietly shut the door behind her.
“You know, people are gonna be talking about this forever,” she laughed softly, trying to make a joke, but when you didn’t smile, she stepped closer.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Yeah, I know. The scandal of the century.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, and you let out a breath filled with bitterness.
“Yeah, of course I am,” you started, crossing your arms under your breasts and looking at the letter on the bed. “No. I mean--I just feel...you know what the problem is?”
“Go on,” she nodded encouragingly as you clenched your fists at your sides.
“You see, the problem is that this man,” you pointed to the bed and grit your teeth. “This arrogant, selfish, bastard of a man...is a gigantic pain in my ass!” You pace to the window, lacing your fingers and resting your hands on your head so you can breathe. “First there's the whole leaving thing. I understand that. It's a sham wedding--it should have never happened…”
“But you do look lovely,” she offers and you nod your thanks before you stomp back over to the bed.
“But then he goes ahead and he leaves this note!” You pick up the piece of paper and shake it at her, your heart racing, your cheeks hot. You can practically feel the steam coming from your ears. “Because he doesn't have the decency, no, the humanity to do it to my face!”
“Well, he technically isn’t human, dear--”
“Five years! Five years I work for this...this terrorist--never once has he had a genuine thing to say, and then he goes ahead and he writes this crap! The audacity--”
“None of that matters. None of that fucking matters. We had a deal!”
“Sorry. I'm sorry. I just…” you let out a long, heavy, shuddering breath. “He just makes me a little crazy.”
“Yeah. I can see that.” She moved to stand in front of you and put your face in her gentle hands. She gave you a warm, motherly smile as she leaned down and planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “So, you're just gonna let him go?”
She was right. God dammit, she was right. You were not about to let Max Fucking Phillips have the last word. You gave her a tight hug and grabbed your sneakers.
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My partner won’t let me get the Pumpkin Glow Bear bc he thinks that it’s creepy :(
I love this little guy so much, he’s such a cutie ❤️
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Valentines Day for Nerds (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
Summary: Spencer’s favourite holiday is often taken up mostly by work, but this year his enjoyment doesn’t seem to be as disruptive in the BAU bullpen. The team soon realise why.
AN: It’s a bit late- who am I kidding? IT’S ALWAYS HALLOWEEN IN OUR HEARTS! This was a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, for the brilliant @agntprentiss <3
For my smut fic from the swap, check out A Little Indulgence (18+ only!)
Reader uses she/her pronouns!
Word count: 1.7k words
Gif credit to @imagining-in-the-margins <3
Your name: submit What is this?
The first breach of boredom was Penelope practically skipping into the bullpen, her arms cradling a bouquet of flowers as if it were an infant. The bold orange roses contrasted with the dyed black petals of its counterparts as they were planted upon Spencer’s desk.
“Delivery for Doctor Reid!” trilled Penelope, clapping her hands now that they were free of said delivery. Dropping his pen onto his unfinished paperwork, Spencer pivoted the base of the bouquet before he found a small black envelope.
It held a little card with two pumpkins, happy faces carved into them both. Inside were the following words:
Black is for new beginnings,
Orange is for enthusiasm,
Spooky times are afoot tonight,
Watch out for ectoplasm!
I spent ten minutes trying to think of a rhyme for that. Happy Halloween, Cara Mia!
Spencer beamed as he placed the bouquet at the edge of his desk, next to the fake severed hand that now held the card in its stiff fingers. He scratched his bristly cheek. Less than a day until he could shave this off. It’d be worth it though.
“Is it from Y/N?”
He looked up to see Penelope had lingered like a lost spirit, waiting to see if her trials of passing on the bouquet had been worthy enough for her to move onto the next world – her Batcave. She was poised with a hopeful expression.
“Yes,” Spencer said, watching Penelope lean up on her tiptoes as she tried to rein in her delight.
She clapped her hands, her purple painted nails clicking as they tapped together, “Are my two favourite ghost hunters up to much this Hallow’s Eve?”
“We’re going to see the Phantasmagoria re-enactment after we go trick-or-treating with Henry tonight.”
It was hard to ignore the absolute glee with which Spencer spoke. Even if one completely ignored the way his voice carried a light excitement, the way his eyes lit up and his broad smile almost fell off his face was enough to connote that he was very excited for tonight. It was also hard to ignore the mild bemusement on the faces of everyone who heard.
Glad to be back and bearing witness to his elated behaviour regardless, Emily cracked a smile, “Maybe she’ll cling to you when she gets scared.”
A heat crawled up Spencer’s neck and he tried to return to work now in hopes that his gift’s display would be cut off. He’d rather sit in the glow of receiving the flowers without mockery.
To the team’s credit, no one ribbed him for it.
The flowers were not the last gift though.
Soon Penelope reappeared, “Your Cupid has returned with another gift for you!”
As he tore at the paper and revealed an Edgar Allen Poe pin – the titular Raven
he instantly attached it to his satchel strap – in pride of place, just like the bouquet.
Derek was the one to notice how Spencer’s sandwiches had been cut into little pumpkins. Some digging and Spencer revealed that he had gotten Y/N to order a cutter online. He held his lunch in one hand, his collection of classic Halloween short stories in the other, with a childish glee that no one wanted to squander.
When Spencer climbed the steps to drop off a file to Hotch around mid-afternoon, Rossi walking behind him noted the brand-new socks. A classic odd pairing, and obviously they were Halloween themed. This kid left no opportunity untaken when it came to celebrating Halloween – more than his own birthday.
But Rossi was not closed enough to get a good look at them, and no one else was as close. So, he recruited Emily and Derek to discover what the pattern was. It was Emily and Derek who upped the stakes by wanting to get a glimpse without arousing suspicion. Now that outright asking Spencer was not an option, the game began as they dropped several pens as an excuse to bend over and strain for a flash of those socks.
Derek eventually resorted to a pantomime attempt at tripping in front of Spencer’s desk and gave the jig up straight away by shouting to a stressed Emily (whilst also catching the attention of Hotch through his office’s blinds): “IT’S IT!”
A few language barriers hurdled later, and hindsight brought them both clarity. The red splodge on Spencer’s ankle was officially defined as a balloon.
“So tell us! What’s the other one?” Emily said, her voice strained with how much she was invested in this single sock.
Spencer hiked up his trouser leg to display the skeletal zombie sewn into the sock. “It’s Curtis Danko from When Good Ghouls Go Bad. Y/N had it commissioned for me!”
JJ was watching nearby, unaffected by the tensions of the sock bet. She knew the film because Y/N had wanted to show it to Henry the other week when she babysat him. But upon further inspection, the R.L. Stine film – while intended for kids – might be a little intimidating for Henry to watch without his profiler mother and godfather, police officer father, and favourite auntie there to protect him from the cursed statue.
No one else in the bullpen knew the film.
The team soon discovered that Spencer was not the only one to be on the receiving end of such gifts. Six o’clock rolled around and Y/N entered the bullpen.
She was wearing a fuzzy black scarf, some sparkles shining within the wool. At the tail of it, a lucky black cat patch was sewn onto the end. It caught Rossi’s eye and he hid behind a folder as he smiled. The three times that Spencer had forgone a card game with him (in favour of knitting the scarf on the flights back from cases) had been riddled with playful teasing. It was good to see that it was worth it.
Especially when Spencer saw Y/N wearing it and his back snapped straight up.
His chair flew backwards, spinning around with the effort that Spencer had launched himself from it, and he and Y/N embraced each other with casual affection.
“How was work today?”
“Not as boring as I thought. But, I have to say: I’m meant to call you Cara Mia.” Spencer’s eyes darted to the card Y/N had sent that morning.
Y/N caught onto his meaning, “Should I stop?”
She rubbed her nose against his and Spencer went pink again, giggling like a teenager. True, he was as smitten with Y/N as Gomez was with Morticia.
Then he remembered he was in the workplace as Y/N went to greet the rest of the team, and Spencer’s pink became a scarlet.
“Aww, Pretty Boy,” Derek grinned at him from his desk chair, “You’re so cute!”
“It’s like Sergio!” Emily said, admiring the scarf with her thumb rubbing over the stitches around the cat patch.
“Make sure he’s safe tonight,” Y/N squeezed her hands for a second.
Then JJ appeared from her office, coat and bag over her arm, and she, Y/N, and Spencer wished the bullpen a Happy Halloween before they left.
They had three hours before the Phantasmagoria started. Plenty of time to get ready.
Henry was right behind the front door of his home. The second it opened, he bounced at Spencer’s feet, his tiny hand clutching onto two of his fingers to drag him inside. He was babbling away at such speed that Y/N could barely keep up. She gave Will a wave across the ironing board where he was diligently ironing Will’s cape.
“Well don’t you look handsome!” Y/N beamed at Henry while JJ combed his hair back, slick with gel. It was something he agreed to but only if Spencer was doing the same. Which he was, occupying the downstairs bathroom as he prepared his own costume.
The moment Spencer had finished shaving everything bar the moustache, he was plonked in front of the television. Henry smoothed out his cloak and put in his plastic fangs in to watch the rest of his new favourite Halloween film, The Little Vampire. He mumbled along with Rudolph’s lines and sat enraptured as he pointed out to Spencer the flying scenes. Luckily for him, Will and JJ were getting dressed as Frederick and Freda Sackville-Bagg upstairs to join in the Halloween spirit – last year’s Halloween date night disaster long forgotten.
Henry put in his plastic fangs and hissed at Y/N who emerged in her long sleek black dress. As she stepped across the room as elegantly as Morticia, Spence spied that she was wearing the black spiderweb tights he had bought her today.
“Hello, Gomez,” She smiled radiantly at Spencer, smoothing out his suit jacket as he stood before her. He presented her with a red rose that matched her lipstick to a tee.
As she breathed in the flower’s scent, he kissed her cheek, enjoying her giggle at the bristle of his ‘stache, “You’re stunning.”
“Thank you, and you’re handsome as ever.” She swung their linked hands between them in the opposite way she poised on her tiptoes. “Maybe we should have taken a tango class.”
And she laughed loudly at Spencer’s wincing at such a thought.
“It’s ok, Cara Mia. I’ll settle for a kiss instead.”
Oh, that was something he could do forever. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles then the inside of each wrist.
Unfortunately, Henry interrupted the stream of kisses that were headed in Y/N’s way. “Ready to go!” He skipped his way between the happy couple.
It was hard to be mad at Henry, especially with how adorable he looked beside his parents and with his bright orange pumpkin bag ready to collect candy. He felt safe with his four favourite adults guarding him.
“Tonight,” Y/N whispered into his ear and he could hear the smirk in her words, “After the Phantasmagoria.”
Spencer beamed, his dimples delightfully framing that smile. One day maybe, they would have their own Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert to join them. And maybe then Derek would dress up as Uncle Fester.
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Part Of Me
summary: Bucky finds out you secretly gave birth to his son and he didn’t know it for three years. But what does his fiancée have to do with it? Is Bucky really the villain in the story?
pairing: Bucky x fem!reader
word count: 1492
Halloween was the worst holiday of the year, at least for you. Ever since you were a kid, you’ve wanted October 31 to go around as fast as it could. You hated the typical traditions like carving pumpkins or even dressing up. Since you were a mother, your mind has changed 180 degrees. James was your whole world, and you would do anything for him to be happy. Your kid came first and nobody else. As hard as life as a mother could be, he was the light at the end of the tunnel. His favorite holiday is Halloween, so you bought decorations, candy and pumpkins. The day before, you and James were decorating the house and inviting Sam, Steve, Wanda, Nat and the rest of the Avengers to dinner. James wanted everything to be Halloween themed so there was eyeball punch (Gummy bears) ,brain measurements (Minced meat in tomato sauce on spaghetti), severed fingers (sausages with ketchup and almonds as fingernails )and alien grits (green jello). After dinner, you all sat outside in the garden carving your pumpkins. James was happier than ever before. He was brambling with your best friends and putting each and every one of the pumpkins on the porch. As the evening ended so slowly, Nat put James to bed. The others offered to help you clean up, and for that you were very grateful. “I hate this holiday.” “Oh why Y/N?! That’s the funniest time of the year.” You rolled your eyes and looked over at Sam, who was wearing a big pumpkin as his head. Terrified, you screamed and pushed him. He fell backwards into the leaf heap and the pumpkin broke in two halves. Everyone burst into shouting laughter. “That was in fact really funny.” You grinned and threw away the last garbage. You thanked the others for a great evening and sent them home. You’ve spent the last three years raising your son, but not without telling him about his father. You’d tell him story’s every night before bedtime, you’d look at photo books with him, and every time he had a question, you’d answer it to him. The hardest questions were, “Why isn’t Daddy here?” and “Why doesn’t Daddy love me?”. Every time it broke your heart because it broke his little heart to live in uncertainty.
There was no better time of the year than Halloween to meet Bucky again. As if that wasn’t the worst thing, your son was dressed as winter soldier. He had just had the courage to go to a house alone to ask for candy as you heard the familiar voice behind you. “Y/N What are you doing here? Good to see you. Great costume.” In shock, you look at the house and then slowly turn to Bucky. “Ehm hi what are you doing in this part of town? Not your usual area.” Your smile was as fake as Kim Kardashian’s ass. Panic rose in you. What if James came to you and asked you who that man was? Would he be ready for that? Would you be ready for that? As luck would have it, you were out with your neighbor Carry and her son Lance for Trick or Treating. “Mom, look how many sweets I got it.” Struck by lightning, you turned to James and grabbed your heart. “Honey, your mom’s still at the house next door with Lance.” You swallowed the lump down your throat and your son’s eyes looked at you confused. “Wow you have a really great costume there buddy.“ Bucky said suddenly grinning. His eyes were glowing as he looked at the little boy’s metal arm. “My Mom made it for me.” James smiled and you had to smile too. He was just too precious. “Hey Y/N Sorry. Let’s get going.” Carry pulled at your dress and you followed her thankfully. “Sorry Bucky we have a thing.” You shruffed your shoulders and turned to Carry. “Oh my god thank you so much! You literally saved my life.” You held James' hand tighter and continued down the road.
“Bucky, everything okay with you?” Stacie stuck herself in his forearm. “We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.” He was still staring at the little boy. “Go ahead, I’m not so good right now, honey.” he smiled at her and she nodded and went to her brother’s house. There was a Halloween party there today. Bucky took the little note out of his vest and stared at it. The little brown-haired boy was still staring at him as he ran by his ex-girlfriend’s hand. He called her Mom, and she had such a panic in her eyes. How old do you think he is? Probably two or three. Bucky took a closer look at the note. The drawing showed a woman who looked like Y/N and a small boy like the one in the winter soldier costume. The realization hit him like a truck. Bucky ran off, down the road but Y/N was nowhere to be seen. She could have gone to any house, he couldn’t ring the bell or knock on every house to look for her. Why didn’t she tell him he had a son? Less than 10 minutes later, he was standing in the house of his brother-in-law. Bucky didn’t know how to act. “Hey, honey, I’m sorry, but I’m going to lie down upstairs in your old room, I’m not feeling any better.” Stacie looked at him sympathetically. “Should I come?” He shook his head. “No, no. Everything okay. I’ll be all right. Do you have a pill for the headache?” “Yes, in my purse upstairs.” He went up the wooden stairs and ran through his hair. Bucky was running back and forth in Stacy’s old room. He searched her purse for his phone. Apparently, he had forgotten it at home and, out of anger, threw the ugly red bag through the room. It hit an old vase. Confused, Bucky looked at the broken pieces. There was a smartphone in them. Bucky turned on the phone suspiciously. His phone display was copied. His apps and contacts. Everything was the same, but it wasn’t his phone. He opened the last messages he had received.
I had actually given it up but he turned 3 today. . .Happy Birthday to your son.
This will be my last message to you, James. I’ve given up hope. Goodbye.
Bucky pulled his eyebrows together. She had broken up with him by SMS, just like that and shortly after Stacy had contacted him. Angry, Bucky stormed down the stairs. The smartphone almost crushes in his vibranium arm. “STACIE!” His voice sounded dangerous. Almost threatening. He knew what that blonde slut had done. Stacie smiled until she saw his face. Her eyes looked into his and then to the phone. All the color faded from her face. “Where did you get that?” “Where did I get that? You are really asking me that question?! Seriously?! What the fuck is that? Why did you copy my phone?” “Babe let me-.” His face turned red with rage. “Shut the fuck up. What do you want to explain? That you fucked up my last relationship? I read all of those messages. I don’t know why or how you did it, but you’re gonna pay for that. We are over. Get your stuff out of my apartment tonight, or I’m gonna throw your stuff out the window.“ After Bucky managed to convince Sam to tell him Y/N’s address, Bucky knocked until she opened the door. The house was quiet. “I know. Before you ask what this is all about, you know exactly Y/N. The little boy with the blue eyes. They look very familiar to me. How old is he 3?” Tears burned in her eyes. She sighed and opened her door to let him in. „Come one in. Let’s talk inside.” Bucky spent several hours explaining to Y/N everything he had found out. He tried everything to get her to understand. He had already missed so much of his son’s life. He didn’t want to waste the rest of the years. Being a father is a lifelong profession. He might not save his relationship with Y/N, but he might save his relationship with his son. “He’s beautiful. A miracle.” Bucky stood in James door frame and watched the sleeping angel. There was a small night light in the corner of the room. “You told him about me? After you thought I’d dumped you so bad?” he watched the superhero posters and comics. “Of course I did. Even though he didn’t get a chance, I did everything I could to get him to know his father in at least some way.“ You softly closed James door. “I’m very grateful for that. Y/N. It’ll take a while, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Even if it is the last thing I will ever do.“
@yougottalovefandoms @mjaudrey @capmanranger @bluemoon-icecream @intothesoul @lamoursansfin @jessyballet @maryosprinkle @crist1216 @vavilip @lunamyangel @millennial-teenybopper @vicmc624 @itsthemaree @spid3rgwen @thewolfgirluniverse @quinnmaddie
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Stowaways - G.W.
Stowaways- George Weasley x Fem!Reader (former Gryffindor)
Warnings: none! just tooth-rotting George fluff :)
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Sorry this took so long! This is my longest fic to date, and I’m so proud of it. I love Georgie so I’m glad to finally write for him. Hope you guys enjoy this one <3
Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name and flashbacks/thoughts are in italics.
93 Diagon Alley is a place of wonder, mystique, and above all else, joy. A place where all your best memories are enshrined, a place where you can be your best self, alongside your doting fiery-haired boyfriend, who wears his ginger mop of hair like a halo. Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes occupies most of the address, its orange and purple exterior lightening up Diagon Alley effortlessly.
Its interior is just as magical, the multiple levels of the shop are engulfed with shelves stocked full of Fred and George’s mischievously ingenious products. Some threatened to transfigure you into an eye-popping xanthic canary, while others could spontaneously spawn a whole swamp in the blink of an eye.
Everything within its walls brings smiles to children of all ages, and it could be argued that George is still one of those kids too.
The store seems to make George truly come alive, even more than he was at Hogwarts just a year prior. The look in his eyes as he skillfully operates the store with Fred reminds you of the glow that your face used to hold as a child as you looked longingly through countless toy-store windows around December.
While the shop is the main source of his pride and joy, even its power couldn’t halt the toll of a busy workweek. Every day, new shipments had been zooming in and out of the store, sales at an all-time high. The new lot of Hogwarts students must have a mischievous streak, for student-sent owl orders in preparation for the school year were arriving daily by the barrel-load.
It was finally Friday evening, and George trudged up the back stairs to the flat, his eyelids droopy and back hunched. His lack of energy, however, couldn’t take away from the playfully handsome purple and brown ensemble he wore. He pitifully fiddled with the keys before finally turning the lock, entering the flat promptly, taking in the familiar home-y aroma.
He promptly plopped down at the small breakfast table near the kitchen, a tired sigh escaping his lips. He pressed his elbow onto the surface of the table, his arm supporting the weight of his head that his neck couldn’t bear any longer.
“How was your day? You look absolutely exhausted,” you asked with concern. You already knew you would have to plan something to cheer poor George up.
“I am simply dying, Y/N,” he said, while pretending to go limp like a corpse, “there’s no hope for me. Tell Mum and Ginny I love ‘em.”
“Not even your own twin brother, huh?” you asked sarcastically. He could only respond with a zombie-esque groan.
You sarcastically rolled your eyes at his dramatic display, glad to see his lack of energy didn’t affect his sense of humor. You walked over to your tired George, who had his head now resting on the back of his chair, eyes spaced out at the ceiling.
You calmly sat down next to the Titian-haired love of your life and laid your head on his strong shoulder, your arm slowly snaking up his back. The motion of your hand alternated between tracing soothing circles lightly on his strained back muscles and massaging his tense shoulder.
He turned his face to you, painted with a soft and grateful grin, glad to finally be home, especially with you. For a few serene minutes, comfortable silence filled the air.
George had nearly drifted off before the both of you were disrupted by his stomach emitting a loud growl. “I take it you’re hungry, Georgie?”
“Apparently so,” your boyfriend responded, patting his stomach.
He languidly started undoing his bright amaranthine purple tie when you asked, “Do you want icky leftovers or yummy takeout? I know what I’m voting for.”
“Such a tough decision…” George responded with a wink.
By the time dinner was over, the tired look in George’s eyes remained, but the delicious takeout helped remedy his splitting headache.
The two of you quickly settled on the comfortable marmalade-hued couch to watch one of your favorite muggle movies (it was a comedy of course). George’s laugh never ceased to make your heart flutter, even after all these years. The way it used to echo so freely through the crimson Gryffindor common room, and now through you two’s cozy flat, couldn’t help but make you fall even more madly in love with him.
George somehow brought out the kid in you that laid dormant for so many years. With him, the world seemed so vibrant; there was always a little adventure waiting for you both, even in mundane activities like laundry. He would bunch up the freshly-washed paisley and tessellated dress shirts that he wore down to the shop daily, pelting them at you like the snowballs that he enchanted to hit Quirrell all the way back in third year.
You loved George with all your heart, as did he.
After a while of movie-watching, George drifted off into a light sleep. His hazy dream was filled with thoughts of the school he called home for so long. The smell of the burning logs and pumpkin that would drift through his nostrils every morning as he walked down the steps from his dorm; the sound of first years’ giggles as they messed with one of his pranks.
His brain then swam through the blurry memories to the first time he met you, the real you, drinking Firewhiskey and playing truth or dare in the back of the common room with the Golden Trio and crew after a victorious Quidditch game.
He thought of your first date, your face scrunched with belly-aching laughter as you tried stuffing in as many sweets as you could on a snowy Saturday at Honeydukes. The way the twisted rainbow lollipops and chocolate frogs made your face uncontrollably grin cemented what he swore the moment he first saw you: he vowed to never stop making you smile.
He couldn’t live a day without your joy-filled face; it enchanted him like the beautiful glow of fireworks against a smokey black sky, like the addicting feeling of adrenaline from breaking the rules.
“Georgie,” you whispered, “Georgie!”
Your drowsy boyfriend slowly drifted back to reality after hearing your soft whisper, your hands lightly tapping his chest to an invisible rhythm.
He released a yawn before asking, “What is it, angel?” His eyes fluttered lazily, and his lips were quirked to the smallest of smiles.
“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t fall asleep on the couch for the night,” you said caringly, “I knew you’d be even sorer in the morning if you did.”
George’s heart warmed at your thoughtfulness. He quickly took in his surroundings, which starkly contrasted his dreamscape. The television softly droning cheap infomercials instead of the muggle movie he fell asleep to, the blinds closed to hide the velvety black sky, and bits of buttery popcorn strewn across his chest and lap.
He sat up tiredly, swiping his hand carelessly through his vermillion-pigmented locks. He rubbed his umber eyes as you brushed loose kernels from his clothes to the carpet.
George muttered, “I love you, Y/N,” quietly, thinking you wouldn’t be able to hear it.
You did, however, and you reciprocated an “I love you, too” sweetly. You stood up from the couch, extending your hand to help droopy-eyed George up. He took your hand and he rose before walking towards the kitchen, drawn to the stark blue light of the refrigerator.
The fridge doors popped open, revealing tupperware full of picked-at leftovers, a few odds and ends, and a half-drank bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy. He groaned at the meager scraps of food occupying the fridge, shutting the door disappointedly. The crisp air that surrounded him with a chill dissipated within an instant.
“Georgie, I think we should go off to bed. Tomorrow's Saturday, and I have a big surprise for you planned,” you said excitedly, coming up behind the man of your dreams, resting your hand steadily on his shoulder. He leaned into your touch as you guided the sleepy boy to the bedroom.
As the two of you laid down to go to sleep, facing one another, George asked in a tired, raspy voice, “What’s the surprise, darling? Or will I have to find out tomorrow?”
“You know I would never spoil a surprise. Don’t worry, you’ll love it.”
George awoke to the delectable scent of freshly-fried bacon and eggs wafting from the humble kitchen. The other half of the bed, he noticed, lay empty, the cozy handmade quilt blanket you usually dozed under laying askew. Sunlight poured through the windows, letting his linen covered body bask in golden morning rays.
After minutes of continuing to peacefully lay under the covers, absorbing the pure morning ambiance, George finally decided to get up and follow the delicious aromas emitting from the kitchen like a bloodhound.
As he entered, you were bent over the stove, guiding a spatula around in a lightly tarnished pan, appetizing pancakes browning within. You were still in your sleepwear, wearing oversized plaid pants that dragged across the tile and one of George’s shirts, which was huge on you and smelled strongly of his cologne.
He snuck up behind you quietly as a mouse, before unexpectedly poking the sides of your stomach. You let out a shocked, “George!” before bursting into laughter. Your chuckles blended with his effortlessly, creating a beautiful symphony.
“Morning, darling. I see you’re making breakfast,” George said with a smirk as he surveyed the surrounding food-covered counters. He seemed in a much better state than he was yesterday, his tired eyes replaced with resplendent brown and gold-speckled ones, which were flooded full of energy reminiscent of his adolescence.
“I am! And I made all your favorites, so get excited! The day’s only getting started.” You sent him a knowing wink, and he responded with a child-like grin. George giddily opened a cupboard, grabbing two shiny ceramic plates. He forked some already-cooked bacon and eggs onto each plate, shaping the food into two adorable smiley faces.
“What did I ever do to deserve such an amazing girlfriend like you?” George asked after giving your cheek an affectionate peck.
“The real question is, what didn’t you do? You’re perfect in my eyes, Georgie,” you heartfeltly admitted as you carried a small plate stacked with butter and syrup-coated warm pancakes coated to the table.
George had beaten you to the breakfast table, waiting patiently until you finally sat down in the chair to his side. He eagerly stabbed a forkful of egg, stuffing it into his mouth. While Ron was usually credited as the biggest food-lover of the Weasleys, there was no way you could deny that George was runner up.
He gulped down the rest of the meal quickly, sending breakfast-filled smiles in your direction after every bite. After both of your plates were squeaky-clean, you ventured to the bedroom to get ready for the busy day ahead of you.
You instructed George to wear “something comfortable,” and he happily complied, throwing on a cream-colored, pin-striped short-sleeve oxford with a pair of worn jeans. You selected something equally as comfortable, and adorable.
You were in the middle of packing a backpack full of snacks and water when George finally asked, “So… when do I get to know where we’re going?”
“We’re going to Hogwarts,” you said promptly with a knowing smile, greatly contrasting George’s look of perplexion.
“And how exactly are we going to manage that, love? Surely they wouldn’t allow an impromptu visit like this, even good ol’ McGonagall?”
“Well, let’s just say Hogwarts doesn’t actually know we’ll be there.”
Platform 9 ¾ could be seen bustling with life, the delicious taste of magic floating through the air. It sent you back to all of those years you spent before term, pushing a luggage-stacked trolley across the station.
The scarlet express heaved tufts of smoke from its chimney, a piercing shriek occasionally echoing from its whistle. The magical platform was coated with clumps of young witches and wizards and their parents; the brick floor could barely be seen under all the boots.
You bid goodbye to your parents, ready to start a new (magical) chapter of your life. As you skipped gleefully to the entrance of the enchanted coach, you caught sight of a rufescent sea of wizards bickering and chuckling with each other. There were six carrot-topped wizards in total: a middle-aged and balding father, an equally middle-aged warm and caring mother, a short and freckle-ridden son who appeared to be the oldest, a tall and stuck-up boy with pretentious-looking glasses who was tightening the crimson tie around his neck, and two identical-looking boys who seemed to be first years as well.
One of them could be seen tieing the stuck-up boy’s shoelaces together, a mischievous smirk on his face as he did. The other was distracting the glasses-wearing brother, shooting the knotter an occasional sneaky glance.
You smiled at the sight before stepping into the train, eager to make new friends. You felt a little less nervous upon seeing students chatting in their compartments; pure joy from students’ laughing and yelling filled the corridor.
You looked around in search of a promising compartment. Finally, after what felt like hours of looking, you settled on a compartment filled with three other first-years. There were two girls and a boy: one of the girls, Angelina, was animatedly recounting a story, the other, Alicia, sprinkled in witty comments, and a smitten-looking boy named Lee was blushing in the corner, listening intently.
After a while of bonding with your new friends, the train slowly began to chug along the tracks, rhythmic clanking creating some pleasant background ambiance. The train began to gain speed before your compartment door was slid open by none other than the vexatious redheaded twins.
The twin who tied his brother’s shoelaces together, who you later learned was named Fred, confidently took a seat next to Lee. They quickly struck up a conversation, seemingly clicking almost instantly. The twin who served as the distraction for his poor older brother, George, sat down next to you timidly.
At first, George was too shy to say anything other than a meek, “hello”, but as soon as the trolley stacked with sweets rolled around, he became quite talkative. He was very observant; he would enchant you with beautiful descriptions of the most minute details in the most mundane things.
George was so observant, in fact, that he noticed you didn’t get anything from the trolley, despite the look on your face saying that it wasn’t by choice. He could only afford a single chocolate frog with the spare change his mother gave him, which he handed to you with a toothy grin.
You yanked on George’s long arm, pulling him behind one of the large brick pillars supporting the platform. “Okay, George, for this to work, we can’t be seen by anyone.” You unsheathed your wand from your pocket, preparing to cast a spell.
“I’m going to cast a disillusionment charm, okay? This should make us blend in with our surroundings so we can sneak onto the train. If I do it correctly, we should be able to see each other just fine, though.”
After receiving an accepting nod from George, you gave him a light tap on the shoulder with the tip of your wand. Camouflage slowly dripped down his body, as if someone poured some sort of invisibility paint above his head. Just as quickly as he faded into the pillar behind him, he returned back to normal colors. You hoped he was still invisible to everyone else.
“Wicked,” he uttered, checking out his arms as they turned invisible and back.
You did the same to yourself without hesitation. George watched with curiosity as you blended seamlessly into the platform; he then admired you as your features slowly returned from invisibility. Every eyelash, every blemish, and every inch of your lips never failed to go unnoticed by him.
“What’s the next step of the plan, Captain?” George asked with a salute.
“So, without being seen, once all the students are off the platform and on the train, we need to sneak onto the caboose, where we should be able to ride safely. After that, it’s smooth sailing to Hogwarts!”
“That sounds easy enough… I think,” George said with his hand in his palm, thinking over the steps of the plan intently.
“Oh trust me, it’ll be great! I mean, if you can set off fireworks during an exam guarded by Umbridge, you can sneak onto a bloody train.” You gave George a reassuring thumbs-up.
“Don’t even remind me of that soul-sucking bright pink nightmare!” George said with a sarcastic eye roll.
As students slowly started filtering into the train, your time to strike inched closer and closer. Finally, the clock struck eleven, and you and George were dashing across the platform to the back of the train with your hands intertwined with one another’s.
You and George leaped onto the back ledge of the train just in time, for the scarlet locomotive slowly started rolling along the tracks just as you latched onto the railing. The both of you broke into cheers of triumph the moment the train was out of the vicinity of the station.
“Y/N, look at the window, there’s no reflection of us in it. We really are undetectable,” George mentioned, gesturing towards the window.
It was unsettling to not see your usual features bouncing off the window, but you were thankful that your charm had worked.
You moved to sit on the ledge of the train, which was small, only about a foot wide. You put your legs through the wide rails so that the soles of your sneakers nearly dragged on the tracks. George took a seat next to you, his lanky legs sitting crisscross.
The scenery that the express heaved through was breathtaking; it was even better feeling the crisp air on your face. The rolling moss-tinted hills, vibrant green and yellow trees that dotted the horizon, and worn stone archways that cut through the landscape allowing the train to huff on. All of it reminded you of the impressionist paintings in museums.
The sunlight bashfully peeked through the clouds like the small flashes of vibrant strawberries hiding under their large green leaves on a serene spring day. The air tasted sweet and refreshing; it felt like you hadn’t ever breathed until your lungs were filled with it.
You and George sat peacefully in silence, listening to the noises of the express and the faint chirping of birds, reflecting on the past. Eventually, he said softly, gaze pointed to the scenery, “I can still remember the moment I realized I was in love with you.”
He continued, “It was the start of fifth year, on this very train. The moment you sat down in the compartment next to me, I just knew. Everything was different. There were so many things I never noticed until then; it was like my eyes were finally open.”
Silence filled the air. You couldn’t think of what to say, and even if you did, you wouldn’t know how to say it.
“Everything about you looked so beautiful all of a sudden. The way you moved or swished your wand, the way your lips enunciated every heavenly word that fell from your tongue. All of it.”
George turned to you nervously. What if I messed it all up? What if that wasn’t the right thing to say? he thought. You stared down at the track, lost in the depths of your mind.
Everything George had ever spoken to you danced through your brain like ballet; his words sounded like rich and eloquent poetry, even his simple cheers or quips at teachers. Your heart felt like it was beating a million times the speed of the chugging crimson engine.
You rapidly pivoted your head to him, his uncertain gaze immediately locking deeply with yours’. Your eyes were clouded with determination and passion, which reflected in the kiss that you swiftly pulled him into. His lips felt magical against yours’, still oozing with lively youthfulness as always.
George tenderly tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, you wrapped one of your hands around the nape of his neck. The kiss softened, becoming something slow and loving. Your other hand intertwined delicately with his’, which lay softly on your thigh.
After a while of sugary sweet kissing, George’s lips parted, uttering an “I love you,” lightly.
“I love you, too. Promise me you’ll marry me someday?” You asked, still heavily under the angelic ginger’s trance.
“You know I couldn’t marry anyone but you, Y/N.”
The sun slowly retreated behind the horizon, painting the sky a brilliant and fiery orange, which nearly matched the hue of George’s wind-swept hair. You languidly rested your head on his broad shoulder, staring out in the distance. Your face lingered with euphoria, courtesy of George’s amazing kisses which had just peppered every inch of it.
The backpack stocked with snacks you perfectly packed was now filled only with empty food wrappers. Most of the various foodstuffs had found a new home safely in your boyfriend’s black hole of a stomach, leaving you with mere crumbs to chew.
“Georgie… why’d you have to eat all the snacks? I’m starving,” you asked dramatically, pretending to be skin-and-bones.
“I’m sorry I didn’t save enough for you, darling. I would give you some but… y’know… they’re in my stomach.” George petted your hair caringly with a regretful smile, his strong fingers gently brushing through your strands, taking in the familiar scent of your shampoo.
As you sat, gaze towards the breathtaking sunset, George mechanically started braiding a small section of your hair. He had always been an expert at braids; Ginny taught him how to fourth year. His mind was elsewhere than your strands, however, for he was plotting something significantly more mischievous.
George retracted his hands from your hair, the soothing touch of his fingers dissipating from your scalp. He stood up from the cozy spot beside you, turning to peer through the window of the coach. His eyes scanned the corridor like a hawk, his brain spindling abstract ideas into a devious plan reminiscent of the schemes he so often plotted back at Hogwarts.
“Georgie, what are you doing?” you asked quizzically.
After one final glance through the coach window (bearing no reflection), he said with a devilishly handsome and mischievous smirk, “I have a plan.”
Before you could interrogate him any further, in one calculated motion, he swung the emergency door open, leaping inside the train full of students.
If anyone was skilled enough to pull off whatever he was set on doing, it was George. While Fred was often the instigator of the twins’ famous pranks, George was often pulling the weight of the trick.
You just hoped the disillusionment charm hadn’t worn off yet.
George silently crept through the corridors of each enchanted coach, elaborately dancing around stray students who occasionally ditched their compartments. His face was scrunched with determination as if he were a raider searching for the holy grail.
It took all his self-control, and more, to resist sneaking into Malfoy’s compartment and giving him a slap across the head; it was even harder resisting giving Ron a friendly spook, along with the other members of the Golden Trio. He decided to stay on track of his mission, for you and you only.
Every coach he passed through, he became increasingly more irritated and nervous. Now that he was an adult, there wouldn’t just be a simple ten points deducted from Gryffindor, no. Sneaking onto a train full of students and stealing candy from the poor old lady’s trolley of sweets would be a hefty fine. Molly would definitely not be pleased.
Finally, in the coach closest to the engine (and unfortunately furthest from the back), laid the trolley, luckily unattended. It was practically overflowing with classic sweets that he used to enjoy so much: colorful Berties Botts Every Flavour Beans (he swears he got a booger flavored one once), towering stacks of frosted cauldron cakes, clear-as-glass sugar quills, and chocolate frogs.
George, of course, knew your favorite anything and everything like the back of his hand. He swiftly grabbed a package of candy from the bottom rack of the trolley, a twinge of guilt hitting him in the heart. The kind old lady would be down one treat. His guilt was quickly alleviated when magically, another perfectly packaged sweet filled the empty space.
The expedition back to the caboose was a decidedly more risky one; it’s a lot more obvious that someone is invisible when a piece of candy is levitating midair. Luckily, the darker it got outside, the more students opted for the comfort of their cozy compartments, which fostered the perfect environment for sleeping. After all, when he and Fred would pull pranks on the train, this was the hour they’d hit the hardest.
He was nearly to the back coach when a now sixth year Neville Longbottom emerged from his cabin, a defeated look on his face. A harshly conquered game of wizard’s chess could be seen, Luna Lovegood sitting next to the board with a neutral smile resting on her lips.
George had tried to dance around Neville, but Longbottom’s clumsiness was no match for him. Not even a second passed before Neville rammed headfirst into George’s chest, falling backward. He laid on the floor for a minute, dumbfounded, before cautiously getting up, reaching for the floating sweet that George grasped high above his head.
George couldn’t help but mutter a low ‘sorry’ to poor Neville before rapidly darting past him towards the door. Neville looked around suspiciously for a minute longer before accepting the fact that he had likely been the subject of another foul prank.
Finally, unscathed, George returned to the rear of the train, where you lay half sprawled across the ledge sleepily. Your eyes were closed, your ears focused on the calming rhythmic rattling of the wheels on the track.
A small smile couldn’t help but creep onto George’s face at the sight of you asleep. He gently tapped you awake, a soft hum escaping his lips. Your eyes fluttered open, a loving look glazing them.
“What is it, Georgie?” you asked, taking in your surroundings.
“Just wanted to make sure that you didn’t fall asleep here. You’d be sore by the time we get to our destination if you did,” George said with a wink.
He outstretched his hand like Prince Charming, helping you stand up from the floor. Your rubious-haired boyfriend inconspicuously held his other hand behind his back, concealing the candy in his large palm.
“Where did you go, George? One moment you’re out here with me, next moment you’re off into the train packed full of people!” you questioned curiously, inspecting George from head to toe.
“Well, you said you were hungry, so naturally....” he said, “I had to get you something to eat.”
George held out a single chocolate frog in his hand like a proud little kid. He wore the exact same smile he sported first year: a look radiating innocence and kindness. You gingerly accepted the frog, slowly unwrapping the chocolate and stuffing the card in your pocket for Ron.
“...just like first year,” you muttered, barely able to make a sound.
You were seated on the tail of the express once again, eyes pointed towards the inky black and star-blemished sky. George quickly mirrored your actions, comfortably sitting next to you. While you munched on your chocolate frog joyfully, George rested his head on your shoulder, even though he was very much taller than you. He momentarily began humming a lullaby he learned as a baby; the vibrations emitted from his voice box resonated comfortingly through your body.
His angelic humming echoed lovingly through your brain all the way to Hogwarts.
The train screeched to a halt at the Hogwarts station behind the school. The soothing rattle of the train ceased, to your dismay, and exuberant students began to flood out of the express like a tidal wave. You and George trailed far behind the various cliques of students, cracking jokes at the expense of the new first years.
“Look at that poor one! He’s fixed to become the new Neville!” you said laughing, before getting a playful elbow from George.
“McGonagall will have quite the handful with those two over there. Reckon they’ll be tricksters like us?” George asked with a nostalgic laugh, pointing at two boys who were sneakily distributing some sort of (surely hexed) candy to their gullible peers. They looked so much like Fred and George did in their first year, down to the very same expression.
“No doubt about it,” you said confidently, darting your eyes comparatively from the boys to your boyfriend. “It really is quite uncanny.”
Soon enough, the towering main entrance to the castle was opened with a swish, and the distinctly familiar smell flooded your nostrils. You were finally home once again. Not much had changed since you left, besides the absence of all of Umbridge’s devious decrees, replaced with some friendly-looking paintings.
“Looks the exact same, doesn’t it?” George whispered, careful to be unnoticed by the excited soon-to-be-sorted first years who were guided to the Great Hall. You nodded yes, clenching his hand harder with exhilaration.
Instead of risking getting caught during the time-honored Sorting Ceremony, you and George walked aimlessly, enjoying the unique ambiance of the school. After a while of galavanting around the halls, you climbed the moving steps towards the Gryffindor tower.
“Open up, it's George,” he whispered to the portrait of the Fat Lady with a smirk, and surprisingly, she obliged with a pleasantly surprised smile. Your stare flickered from George to the portrait, mouth agape.
“Let’s just say, me and the Fat Lady have a lot of… history. Oh, not like that!” George let out a laugh followed by an adorable wink.
You gravitated towards the comfortable crimson couches which sat by the large and inviting fireplace, dragging George’s hand behind you.
Your body melted into the red plush of the couch, the soft material much more desirable than the stiff metal rails of the express. Your carrot-topped better half took a seat next to you, his body intertwining with yours.
Gryffindors threatened to flood into the common room any given moment, so you wasted no time pulling George’s soft shirt to your chest for a gentle and loving kiss.
“Blimey! Get a room you two!” Ron said, walking towards the two of you from the portrait, gagging.
“I guess the charm’s worn off, Georgie.”
“Just in time, too,” he said with a slightly cocky smile.
You turned to Ron, who reluctantly held his arms out for a hug. You ran to him with all your might, meeting the messy-haired ginger’s chest. “I’m so glad to see you again. It’s felt like ages.”
“Glad to see you too, Y/N,” he said with a genuine smile.
Harry and Hermione entered not long after, a matching perplexed expression on their faces. “Y/N? George? How’d you get in here? Surely McGonagall wouldn’t permit a visit such as this?” Hermione asked, giving you a small but confused hug.
“Well, the thing is, no one knows we’re actually here,” George said, a grin on his face.
“How’d you do it? Sneak in here, I mean,” Harry asked, eager to learn a new way to sneak to the school.
“Snuck onto the express. Brilliant idea and execution courtesy of my dear Y/N. She’s a genius in training. Learning from the best, of course,” George said sarcastically, his thumb pointing to his chest.
“Very funny, Georgie. This one was all me. My magnum opus, some would say.”
The ensuing night was amazing. Laughter echoed through the cherry-tinted walls of the common room like a magnificent orchestra; classic games like spin the bottle and truth or dare were played religiously.
By the time it struck midnight, your mind had nearly escaped to your hazy dreamscape too many times to count. It had been a long day; you started early with cooking a full breakfast, sneaking onto the Hogwarts Express, and partying for hours into the night with the Gryffindors, all with the love of your life. To say you were exhausted was a massive understatement.
Harry had graciously offered his comfortable bed to you, Ron reluctantly sacrificing his to George. “You owe me one,” he repeatedly grumbled to his older brother, who plastered a sickly innocent smile on in response.
George took quick notice of the unfathomable exhaustion plastered onto your face from his couch across from you, immediately announcing to the chatting group of friends, “I think it’s time for me and Y/N to turn in for the night. See you all in the morning.”
‘Goodnights’ drifted in and out of your ears as George picked you up from the couch bridal-style, carrying you light-as-a feather up the steps to the boys’ dorms. He could envision a furious Head Boy Percy demanding, ‘Put her down, George! Girls sleep in the girls’ dormitories, boys in the boys’! They have that rule for a reason!’
He smiled as he creaked open the sixth year boys’ dorm’s door, laying you peacefully onto Harry’s scarlet four-poster bed. He grabbed some cozy knitted blankets, gently setting them over your body.
“There you are, angel, have a good nights’ sleep. I love you with all my heart,” George cooed. He turned to Ron’s bed with a smile before you grasped his hand desperately.
“Before you go to bed Georgie, did you have fun today? I know you super were stressed out yesterday and all,” your words came out slurred and tired, some borderline incoherent.
“I have fun any time I’m with you, darling,” he said, smoothing your ruffled hair. “But yes, I had the time of my life with you today. Just being with you makes my day infinitely brighter. You’re like my little sunshine.”
“And will you actually marry me someday, Georgie?” you asked, your droopy eyes filled with an unfathomable and everlasting love. You were deep under the heavenly redhead’s spell once again.
“I always keep my word, darling.”
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General 19 and Fluff 42: Hank getting the phone call that Reader has gone into labor, maybe he’s at his desk or at an active crime scene?
General prompt 19: “Hold onto me.”
Fluff prompt 42: “For (her/him/them), (I’ll do) anything.”
Warnings: pregnancy, childbirth. Also protective Hank, but when does this not involve protective Hank, folks?
Wanna join my taglist?
You were relaxing on the couch, your feet up, when the baby in your stomach decided to play another game of kick the bladder. Moving slowly you made it to the bathroom for the twelfth time that day, wincing at the jabs coming your way. You were officially out of growing room for the pumpkin, but it was still a week to your due date. The OB had officially said you were good to give birth at any time in the next two weeks, but your nerves were still there.
Standing at the sink while washing your hands, you stared in the mirror. You felt like you should look haggard, but instead you could see the pregnancy glow people talked about. Sure, Hank had said you looked beautiful when he left that morning, but you never felt it. Now though, you could see it a little.
Your back had been aching more than normal, so you decided to get a hot water bottle to soothe it. The pumpkin liked the heat and it usually helped them calm down, so you warmed it in the microwave. Once it felt right you went into the living room, but before you made it you felt wetness between your legs, trickling to the floor. Suddenly your back ache made sense, it was go time.
The first thing you did was call Hank, but his cell went to voicemail. “Hank, it’s time. I’m going to call Sylvie and get her to bring me in. Meet me at Med, ok? Please be safe, I love you.”
Once you hang up you called your best friend, and she answered immediately. “Hey! Any movement on the pumpkin yet?” She asked, and you could hear the smile on her face.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling. I can’t get hold of Hank in work, and my water just broke. Can you bring me to the hospital?” You held your stomach as what you now knew to be a contraction was going through your back, pain radiating out.
“Sure. I’ll pull 61 off duty for a little while, get ready to come out. We’ll be there in five.” Sylvie hung up, and you cringed realising they’d pull up in the ambo in a few moments. You picked up your hospital bag, and while waiting tried calling Hailey, but her cell went to voicemail as well. As a final hope you called the precinct itself, and managed to get yourself put through to Trudy.
“Trudy, is Hank there and ignoring his cell?”
“If it isn’t my favourite soon to be mother! They went out on a raid about twenty minutes ago, they should be back in an hour, what’s up?” You frowned, a moan going through you as your contraction hit. It was barely seven minutes between them, it was already moving quickly. “You ok? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“No, I’m ok. I’m in labour. Can you get through to Hank for me? Tell him Sylvie’s bringing me to Med, I’ll be brought up. I need him to be here, Trudy.” You let some of your desperation bleed into your voice, it was unintentional but you could almost hear Platt straighten up.
“We’ll get him there, he’s not missing this. Davids! Put out on the radio for 50-21 Adam to get in touch immediately. I’ll talk to you soon, and let me know what happens. I want to see this baby.”
“Will do, Trudy. Bye.” You hung up and picked up the bag to sit on the porch for Sylvie and Ogle, who was covering your maternity leave. They arrived as you came out, Ogle sitting in the drivers seat and Sylvie helping you into the back of the rig, propping you up on the gurney. You grabbed her hand as a contraction hit, trying to keep your moans to a minimum until you made it to the hospital.
The drive was smooth and they delivered you safely into the ward, Sylvie promising to call after shift the next day to see the new arrival. You were put into a gown, and the nurse looked at you worriedly.
“Is there someone you want me to call? Are you alone for this?” She asked, eyes on your rings.
“My husband’s at work. He’ll be here soon, we couldn’t get through to him.” She nodded at your words, and you lay there with TV on, waiting as each contraction hit. You’d made it through two and a half episodes of Judge Judy when Hank came storming in, his vest still on and worry written all over his face.
“Are you ok? What happened? How’s the baby?” He barked out his questions, and even in the pain of mid contraction you let out a sharp bark of laughter. Once it passed you grabbed his hand, holding him to you.
“I’m fine, it’s time Hank. I really hope you’re prepared for this, because I’m terrified right now.” He kissed your forehead, wiping your hair away from your eyes.
“You can do this. You are so brave, and so strong, and in a while we’re gonna meet our baby. Plus, my entire team is outside waiting to find out what happens. Once Trudy got through on the radio they weren’t leaving your side.” You smiled, and your OB came in to check on you.
“Let’s have a look, Mrs. Voight. I’m going to check how dilated you are. You spread your legs and waited for the usual check. Some pressure and it was done, you could breathe easier.
“You’re eight centimetres, so we won’t be waiting long for this little bundle of joy. Do you want an epidural? We won’t be able to offer one much longer.” You shook your head, Hank’s hand firmly in yours.
“I’m gonna go without one. I can do this, and I want to be able to walk after I give birth.” She nodded, a smile on her face.
“That’s fine. I’ll send a midwife in in about half an hour to check you again. You’re moving pretty quickly, so it probably won’t be too long.” She left the room, and you and Hank sat there as you could feel the contractions moving through your body.
It went through so much faster than you thought, and by the time the midwife arrived the pumpkin was about to crown, and your contractions were coming thick and fast. Hank kept a hold of you, his arm around your back to support you while you squeezed his hand.
“You’re going to feel the need to push pretty soon. Once you do, wait for a contraction to start, and then push slowly and steadily. Stop when the contraction stops, and we’ll wait for the next one to go again, ok?” You nodded, feeling another contraction beginning. You groaned out loud in pain, Hank holding you up.
“You’ve got this Sweetheart, you’re so brave bringing our baby into the world. You can do this. Hold onto me and squeeze my hand as much as you need, you’re doing the most amazing thing right now.” You squeezed his hand as you were filled with the almighty need to push, bearing down as the contraction went through you.
You leaned back as it finished, your hair sticking to your sweaty face as you breathed out slowly, pain radiating from where you could feel the baby. Before you could take much of a break the next contraction came, and you heard the midwife saying she could see the head. The pressure finally ended as you felt the baby slide out, and the room was filled with the sound of lusty cries.
Sinking back against Hank, you had a grin on your face. He kissed your forehead, moving your hair behind your ear. “I’m so proud of you Sweetheart, look at what you did,” he whispered, still holding your hand.
“Dad, do you want to cut the cord and meet your son?” A tear rolled down your face at her words, and you could see Hank tearing up too. You let go of his hand so he could, shaking hands on the scissors severing your physical connection to the infant.
Once the baby was weighed and measured and cleaned, they handed him back to you. He was exactly seven pounds, and you couldn’t believe he came from you. Even looking at him you could see Hank’s chin and nose. He was your son, and he was here and he was beautiful. “Look at him, Hank. He’s so beautiful. We made him.”
“Do you want a photo of the new family?” The midwife held up a polaroid camera, and Hank wrapped his arms around you, smiles on both of your faces. She put the photo on the nightstand, and left the room to give you time together.
“Do you want to introduce him to his family?” You asked, staring up at Hank. “Are they still outside?”
“Probably. You ok with them all coming in?” He asked, his finger tracing the baby’s cheek and nose, still in shock and adoration at him.
“Definitely. I think I know what we need to name him, too.” Hank looked at you, surprise in his eyes.
“I thought we weren’t deciding for a day or two? Give us time to get to know him.”
“Yeah, but looking at him he needs the name. Alvin Platt Voight sounds about right, doesn’t it?” You’d never had the privilege to meet Hank’s best friend before his death, but from what everyone had said you’d have gotten on with him. And Trudy had become such a good friend to both of you, you knew she needed to be part of his name.
“Are you sure? Because I’m going to crow that name from the rooftops when they come in.” You smiled at his grin, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“I’m positive. Get them in here to meet our boy.” Hank kissed your son’s forehead with a gentleness most people wouldn’t realise he’d have, before going out to the waiting room. You had about fifty seconds before everyone arrived in, and you relished the last few moments holding your son.
Hank led the procession of people in to meet him, and you handed Al over to his dad, grinning at the heart eyes on Hank’s face. Hank’s team were there, along with Sylvie and Matt. Sylvie came over to give you a hug, which you returned gratefully. Once everyone was in, Hank was the first to speak.
“I’d love for you to all meet Alvin Platt Voight, twenty one inches long and seven pounds exactly. Al, this is your aunts and uncles.” You watched as tears welled up in Trudy’s eyes and she stared at Al. He was handed around to everyone, but they all left before long. When Matt and Sylvie were leaving, Hank called them back.
“Casey, Sylvie, can we talk to you for a minute?” Matt look confused, but seeing Hank with a baby made him come over.
“I can’t apologise enough for what I did to you before. And I don’t expect forgiveness for it. But you two are my wife’s closest friends, and if anything happened to us, we want you two to look after Al. Will you be his godparents?” A grin broke across Sylvie’s face, and a small smile came over Matt’s.
“We’d be honoured, Hank. The past is in the past, and Al’s the future. Thank you.” You took Al back, holding him to your chest as Matt and Hank shook hands. Your friends left, and you started trying to feed Al, Hank watching as you did. Once he’d taken the little bit of milk he wanted you put him down, exhausted from the day.
You napped while Hank was rubbing your hair, but you woke up with a start when there was no kicking from inside you. You turned over to see Hank holding Al, speaking quietly to him. When he saw you awake he put Alvin back down, coming over to you.
“He’s amazing, Sweetheart. For you and him, I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
You looked up at your husband, gripping his hand tightly. “You’re staying on the right side of things, Hank. I don’t want you doing anything that’s going to even risk you staying away from us. Understood?” Your love for him was fierce, but the love for your family staying together was fiercer.
“Understood.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and the two of you watched your son sleep soundly.
Taglist: @ohitsnicolexo @redpoodlern @wanniiieeee @trishxtrix @mileika @melblacc @mcgreads @securityfriendly-jay
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Do you like the Halloween Build a Bears? I have mixed thoughts.
I like the Bear Bones Dino and the Howl-O-Ween Werewolf bear since they are creative and just the right mix of scary cute.
Also I still want this Pumpkin Glow Bear with the Suit because I like the David S. Pumpkin's thing in an ironic way. If only they could come to Australia.
As for the rest, it's more meh.
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🐎💙HoofBeats And HeartBeats (Headless Horseman!Idia Shroud x Reader) 🐎💙
...Bright tears streamed down your face as you bolted through the night within the forest, desperately searching for a way to escape all of the troubles that had been plaguing you for so long. You had truly no one to ever turn to for a genuine sense of comfort in that sense- and least, no one that would ever stick. So, despite it being Halloween Night in the grand town of Sleepy Hollow, a town known for its infamous mysteries and odd disappearances, you ran. You ran like your life depended on it, your boots crashing against the nearby leaves as you did so.
Eventually, you crashed down onto a nearby tree. A grunt of pain escapes your lips as you attempt to gain your natural bearings once more. You couldn't help but to allow yourself to cry up and wallow in your own sorrows once more underneath the shade of the large oak tree stretching up above you. You felt...disgusted with yourself and disgusted with what all had happened and been happening. Your sniffs began to increase as your heart wrenching sobs also increased drastically in volume overtime….and this was why you didn't hear the hoofbeats.
Thump thump….thump thump….
Eventually, however, you allowed your head to tilt up a bit, now sniffing and squinting into the night. Your eyes locked onto the vast path before you, your expression soon contorting in confusion. Some sort of an odd….bright blue light seemed to be vastly approaching from afar. If you didn't know any better, you might have called out and inquired if it was some sort of woodland spirit such as a Will O' The Wisp. The hoofbeats increased more and more as your eyes widened. It couldn't be!
A pale, tall man seemed to be seated atop the horse. His long, flowing blue locks shifted in the bitter autumn night winds around him, his amber eyes fluttering about in a calculating manner...until they rested upon your form below. He seemed like a prim and proper yet skittish type, for his expression contorted just a bit in confusion. Those amber orbs trailed along your face, spotting the tears. His tall, strapping midnight horse seemed to neigh loudly at the sheer sight of you, now sniffing down towards your form. The male soon dismounted from his steed, and you could see some sort of sword within a strap at his hilt.
He spoke in a soft yet strong tone of voice, his foot gently nudging his other one as a sort of coping technique in terms of speaking. "....Good evening. What is…..uhhh...what's such a lovely person such as yourself doing out this late at night? You know it is Halloween night, do you not?" You soon nodded in reply, sniffing for a moment. "I-i am well aware...I am just….pardon me, sir, but I am not supposed to speak to...s-strangers."
A smirk seemed to tug at the lips of the horseman. Ah, at least you were bright. He cleared his throat and bowed, now taking one of your hands into one of his steel-gloved own. "....U-umm….ehehehe...is it too much to ask that we become...not strangers, then? You….a-ahem. You seem upset. What...troubles you?" You sniff a bit more and slowly arise with his help. You begin to explain your situation to him in earnest. He frowns upon hearing your words. "...Mmm. Humans really ar- I-i mean….ehehe. People really can be awful, r-right? I-i actually lost a….beloved...pumpkin t-trinket of mine thanks to a group of kids…..aaahhhh….I've been searching all night…"
You blink a couple of times and glance to the side of the tree which you had taken refuge against. Ironically enough, a black pumpkin was resting firmly against the side of it- perhaps you had kicked it by mistake as you ran? Regardless, the object is soon retrieved once you bend over. You hold the pumpkin up to the mysterious horseman, now arching a brow at him. "...Does it look something like this?" The boy's eyes widened happily at the sight. He seemed to wish to do a happy little dance at the sight- you found it, you found it~
"Ehehehehehhee! That's it! T-thank you….?" He seemed to trail off, now waiting for your name. Your eyes widen as you faintly smile and giggle at his happy little antics. "[Y/n]...." The boy nods and smiles brightly at you, his hair seeming to glow just a bit brighter. "[Y/n]....a lovely name for a lovely….s-savior of mine! Ehehehehe! W-well….I uhhh….I do not think you should be...out here alone tonight."
He walked to his horse, now swinging himself up onto the saddle. He grins out happily as he holds out a hand for you to take. "W-want t-to ride into the n-night with me? Don't worry, I'll k-keep you safe and warm! Ehehehhee~" You couldn't help but to laugh and very faintly blush at the antics. You take his hand into your own, now allowing the boy to haul you up behind him. Your arms wrap around his waist to steady yourself as you smile, now arching a brow. "I did not receive your name, fair sire… "
The boy seemed to blush- and to cover this up, he placed that black pumpkin onto his head. Guess it was a helmet- then it hit you. But he was so nice? Regardless, he soon replies with a ton of stutters. "M-most k-know me as the H-headless H-horseman...but my...m-my family and t-those I like...know me as Idia Shroud." The boy suddenly whips the reins of the horse and the two of you take off into the night….
The hoofbeats and the beatings of your own hearts following you both all the way.
((Hello, my dear Readers! I thought I might do something a little different today thanks to a dream I had last night and give this little spin on Idia a whirl for a moment! Let me know what you think and if you believe I should make a sequel or try some of the others out like this! Hope you have a fantastic day~ 💕💙
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