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#but i put it all in a cute lol box tied with a ribbon around it and placed it on my shelf
markiemelon · 15 days
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can u please do more jisung ?? 😞🩵🩵 i love ur work
tangerine love
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genre fluff ! no warnings
^_−☆ 🍊
pairings gn!reader x jisung
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2:34pm ─ ੈ♡˳
“jisungggg, are you ready?” you peeped your head into your best friend’s room to see him scrambling around in a panic.
“i can’t find it!”
“what is it?”
“your present. i just had it last night and now i can’t find it.”
“oh.” you sighed in relief. “it’s no big deal, ji, let’s just hurry and go.”
it was your friendiversary, so for fun, you two usually just went to the park where you met as kids. normally you didn’t get each other gifts, but this year, jisung insisted.
you brushed off his concerns. “im gonna leave you here!” you threatened as you made your way to sit in the passenger’s seat of jisung’s car.
jisung hopped in and sulked. “i couldn’t find it… do you at least have the tangerines?” he looked over to you.
in your lap was a basket of freshly picked tangerines from the tree in his backyard. you planted it when you were younger, since you two have always shared a love for the fruit.
you got to the park and laid out a blanket on the grass. you set the basket down and signaled jisung to try them. “are they sweet?” his eyes lit up as he tore into the peel. “I don’t know. I haven’t tried them yet.”
he popped a slice into his mouth and immediately his eyes became squinted and his nose scrunched up. “eugh it’s so sour.”
“seriously? that’s too bad. I guess they aren’t ripe enough yet…” you picked one up and tossed it right back into the basket.
“oh right.” you remembered. “your gift.” you reached into the pocket of your sweater that was lying alongside the picnic blanket. you pulled out a little white box with orange ribbon around it tied in a bow.
jisung’s eyes widened. “wait. that box-”
before you could even hand it to him, he snatched it from you.
you rolled your eyes at his impatience. “geez, you could at least say thank you.”
inside the box was the exact thing jisung had lost. a little tangerine keychain charm. “where did you get this?”
you rubbed your neck nervously. “oh, well it’s a funny story. see, i actually forgot about the present thing, but this morning when I was walking to your house, i found it on the sidewalk around the corner. isn’t that weird? it was like a sign from the universe.”
jisung looked at you in disbelief and started laughing out of nowhere.
“what?” you laughed along. “sorry, i seriously forgot.. but it’s cute, isn’t it? put it on your bag! i’ll take it if you don’t want it…”
“yn.” jisung smiled. “this is for you. he handed it back to you. “i bought it on my way home last night so it must have fallen out of my pocket then. i just can’t believe you found it…”
“wait, really?” you clapped your hands in a fit of laughter. “you’re too cute, jisung.” you threw yourself onto the boy sitting beside you, now his head is resting on the cushioned blanket, and you’re lying across him. his arms instinctively wrapped around your back to hug you into his chest.
“don’t call me cute.” he said in his low voice. you can’t control your cuteness aggression when it comes to jisung, so you pinched his cheeks and pretended to bite him.
once you sat up, jisung followed your movements. he positioned himself behind you, so he could rest his chin on your shoulder, and hug you.
from the looks of it, you’re a couple.
“yn” jisung broke the silence. “look at the way we’re sitting right now. we might as well be a couple.”
“sure.” you shrugged in response.
“im just joking.” he hugged you tighter.
“no, really. we should try it. see what happens.” you leaned your head against jisung’s, still resting on your shoulder.
“seriously?” he laughed.
“yeah,” you hummed, “but what are we gonna do with all these tangerines?”
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hi anon, so glad you requested! sorry it took forever. thank you for reading ♡ ps im too lazy to proofread this properly LOL
- 🍉
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amaiwrites · 17 days
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te amo, mi batata
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It’s Luz’s 15th birthday, and Amity has a special gift for her.
lumity, fluff, aged up characters (by like a year lol), just a cute birthday fic !!
word count: 0.8k | also posted on ao3!
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“I know I already got you a gift, but uhh… I have another one.”
Today is Luz’s 15th birthday, and Luz is feeling spoiled, honestly.
“Amity, you didn’t need to do that. I love the gift that you got me!” Luz says as Amity hands her a small purple box, tied with a ribbon. “Really, it’s too much.”
Amity looks at her girlfriend expectantly, urging her to open her gift. “I think you’re going to like this one.” She smiles, and Luz smiles back.
“Well, of course I will.” Luz says, “anything from you is an amazing gift.” Luz begins to open the gift, curious to see what’s inside. Once the ribbon is untied she takes the cover off of the box, placing it next to her on the bed.
Inside of the box is a necklace, a purple charm on it with a yellow sliver. It isn’t just any necklace though, no, this necklace is Amity’s.
“Amity, I… I love it!” Luz squeals as she quickly places the necklace down. She wraps her arms around Amity in a tight hug, burying her face into the girl’s shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She laughs.
The gift is special. Not only does Luz adore the necklace, exchanging jewelry has a special meaning on the boiling isles. It’s basically a pinky promise to always stick by someone’s side.
Luz hopes Amity is by her side for the rest of her life.
Luz grins as she lifts her face up from Amity’s shoulder, so her head is level with Amity’s. She leans her forehead against her girlfriend’s. “I really do love it. Thank you.” She says, more quietly this time since Amity is right in front of her.
“I’m glad.” As Amity finishes her sentence, Luz’s lips are on hers. Luz’s hand holds Amity’s face, pulling her closer. They both smile into the kiss, and when Amity’s hand gently runs through Luz’s hair, Luz feels… calm.
All too soon Luz pulls away from the kiss, once again resting her forehead where it was before. “Amity, I…” She takes Amity’s hand in hers while she continues speaking, “I’m so happy when I’m with you. You’re the best girlfriend and I hope we’re together for a long time.”
“Really?” Amity has a shocked look on her face, but also a warm smile.
“Really. Te amo, mi batata.”
As soon as Luz says it, her eyes go wide and her face is pink.
Oh my titan.
I can’t believe that I just said that, that I just said I love you to Amity, I’m such an idiot! What if she doesn’t like me saying it, or what if-
“Luz?” Amity questions, “What does that mean? I got the sweet potato part, but… te amo?”
Oh.
Luz is sure her face is red by now. Deep red. Tomato red.
“I- I can’t believe I just… wow. Well.” She takes in a deep breath, bracing herself for her girlfriend’s reaction. She kinda has to tell her what she said now. “I said that I love you. ‘I love you, my sweet potato.’”
Amity blinks at Luz for a second, processing what she just said. After realizing that 1. She’s not breathing and 2. Luz is waiting for a response, Amity also takes a deep breath. “You said… that you love me?”
Luz nods her head, hesitant to look her girlfriend in the eyes. “If you don’t want to say it back that’s totally fine-“
“No, Luz, I love you too.” Amity blushes slightly, with a huge grin on her face. “I love you. I love you, Luz.”
Luz sighs of relief and hides her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I finally said it.” She peeks out from between her fingers at Amity, then brings her hands down to her lap again. “I think I’m gonna say that a lot now.”
Amity takes her girlfriend’s hand up to her face and plants a soft kiss on it. “Te… amo? Was that it? Te amo, Luz.”
“Mhm, yeah! That’s it,” Luz says excitedly, “te amo.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Amity grabs the box with Luz’s gift in it, holding up the necklace for Luz to see. “I could help you put it on?”
“Sure.” Luz says, lifting her hair up so her neck is exposed. Amity unhooks the clasp, puts the necklace around Luz’s neck, and closes the clasp again.
“There. It looks good on you.”
Luz looks down at her chest, admiring the necklace. “It’s… perfect.”
The necklace really was perfect. Luz couldn’t think of a better gift, or a better way to spend her birthday than with the girl she loves.
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this is an older fanfic of mine but i thought i’d post it on here :) i hope you enjoyedddd 💕
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zorbs · 3 years
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i finally organized myself a new snack box and i’m so happy
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ADVENTURES IN GIFT WRAPPING
A STRANGER THINGS PREFERENCE
— CHARACTERS: Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers, Billy Hargrove, Nancy Wheeler, & Robin Buckley — WARNINGS: N/A — REQUESTED BY: N/A — A/N: This idea came to me while I was dropping off Christmas cards with my  mom, so I guess you could say that this is me finally getting into the Christmas spirit?? I dunno lol. It’s just a fun little thing to do in between requests about how the characters would wrap your Christmas present. Hope you guys like it!!
STEVE HARRINGTON
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Steve’s gift wrapping methods are the definition of “trust the process.” Growing up, his parents were always too busy to teach him how to do it, so it was something he just had to learn on his own through trial and error. He’s very messy about it—he’s covered in tape, keeps losing the scissors, and the gift is upside down beneath all the paper—but by the time he’s done, it comes out looking pretty good considering what all it took to get there. He tries to do the ribbon curling trick, but the ribbons keep breaking, so he ends up buying a bow instead and slaps it on top. 8/10 gift wrapping skills.
JONATHAN BYERS
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Jonathan tries his best to make sure your present looks nice, but he gets so nervous about making it look perfect that he ends up undermining himself instead. He keeps having to recut the paper because it’s the wrong size and can’t figure out how to tie the bow on straight. He tries asking his mom for help, but Joyce isn’t much better at it than he is. The two of them finally settle on going to the store and picking out a cute bag, probably something with reindeer on it, and some tissue paper and put your gift in that. He’s a little frustrated that he couldn’t have wrapped it himself, but it’s the thought that counts. 5/10 gift wrapping skills.
BILLY HARGROVE
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Billy doesn’t understand what the big deal is about wrapping presents. He has absolutely no desire to spend hours trying to make something look pretty, and if he tried to, he’d probably just get frustrated and accidentally break it, not to mention that his dad would make fun of him for doing something so “girly.” Susan would wrap it for him if he asked, but he’s much too prideful for that. He’d give the present to you as is, and if he really likes you, he might have put a bow on it. 0/10 gift wrapping skills.
NANCY WHEELER
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Nancy is a pro at wrapping presents. When she was a kid, she helped her mom wrap gifts, and she kept getting better at it as she got older. She’s very methodical about the way she does it—she knows what will look good and how to achieve it. You can expect her presents to be wrapped tightly with very clean edges—no puckering around where the ribbon is tied on, no weird folds on the sides, and the tape is double-sided so that it’s hidden beneath the paper instead of pressed on top. She even goes so far as to perfectly line up the pattern on the wrapping paper along where it meets on the bottom of the box. Her bows are always fancy, too—not the typical T-shape, but tied on diagonally across the corners and curled on the ends. 11/10 gift wrapping skills.
ROBIN BUCKLEY
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Robin isn’t good nor bad at wrapping gifts. She does whatever it takes to get the job done but doesn’t think too hard about it. She actually enjoys the process, though, and will set aside a day specifically for sitting around wrapping presents. She’s really good at guessing at just how much paper and ribbon she will need by eyeballing it, and she gets excited when the scissors do that gliding thing as she’s cutting. She always uses solid-colored paper and draws designs on it in Sharpie, personalized for whoever is receiving the gift. Her presents may not be the neatest, but they always feel special. 9/10 gift wrapping skills.
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tteokdoroki · 3 years
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💜-
It’s really minas fault for putting this idea in your head, but now here you are, helping Mina fix her sexy Santa outfit while the boys are out.
“ the boys are gonna love it baby!” Mina says turning her attention to you, you’re practically naked, the lingerie you’re wearing don’t cover anything, it’s a red lace piece that Mina chose for you.
You wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her down so you can kiss you cheek,”but do you love it?” A faint red kiss mark is bow on minas cheek as she bend down and grabs your face.
“I think you look sexy as fuck,” she kisses you softly before pulling away. She grabs your arms and some ribbon, trying them up with a bow.
She moves you to sit on her lap with your arms tied behind your back, helpless and at her mercy.
“We have some time before the boys get home, so let’s have some fun?” Mina says while rubbing circles around your sensitive clit.
You whimper and squirm on her lap, “Ashido, please,” her fingers tease your sensitive clit and she kisses down your neck, finding the spot that makes you moan and bites down, leaving her mark.
“You want me to make you feel good baby? I guess opening one gift early wouldn’t hurt anyone?” She reaches over to a neatly wrapped box with your name on it, “watch baby, this is something I got for you,” she opens the gift revealing a hitachi vibrator.
Your eyes winded at the gift, Mina flips you so that you’re lying on your back. Climbing ontop on you Mina’s pussyfoot directly over your face as she pressed the powerful vibrator against your pussy,”thank you for the meal,” you whisper before teasing Mina with your tongue, hearing her beautiful moans.
Her legs squeeze your head, brining you closer to her pussy as you devour her like she is your last meal. Your moans muffled by her sweet pussy.
“Look at you baby, you’re so close. So close,” she says when your legs starts to shake. She pulls the vibrator away from your aching clit,”yet so far. You need to earn your orgasms baby,” she teases you. Making you lick her faster, her moans indicating that she is getting closer.
“Right there baby, right there!” She moans, turning on the vibrator again, pressing it against your needy clit, slipping a finger in your pussy.
“You’re so wet and needy baby, you want to cum? Let mommy make you feel so fucking good” she says increasing the speed on the wand.
Her moans fill the room as she cums, her juices run down your face as you try to lick up as much as possible. Your legs shake as you feel your orgasm build up higher and higher till you go over the edge.
You cum on mina’s fingers. She turns off the vibrator and mutters,”fuck,”
Getting off of you you see katsuki, Eijiro, sero and denki in the doorway watching the two of you. All of them are hard and Bakugou looks pissed.
Pt1, part two coming soon..... this is my first time writing for Mina so sorry this isn’t good(I’ve also been in a writing funk lol)
hi baby !! don’t worry about it :(( i always look forward to your writing <33 please make sure to take care of yourself my love 🥺
mina is your number one hype girl, she’s always telling you how pretty you look no matter what your wearing, especially when you’re in her lap or underneath her. her fingers know just how to get you riled up, reaching all the right spots under your cute little festive underwear !
fingers curling inside you and desperate to make you cum before the boys come back, ashido whispering praises into your skin while you buck sweetly on her hand :(( you’re such a good obedient little thing for her!!
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jawritter · 4 years
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The Arrangement
Part 20
Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.
Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!
Chapter Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), all the fun stuff that comes with smut lol, fluff, I think that’s about it!
Word Count: 1881
A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!
Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader
Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!
***MASTERLIST***
***SERIES MASTERSLIST***
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You stood in the kitchen, pulling tonight's chicken from the oven, and placing it on the counter. You had gotten home from California pretty early, and as soon as you got home Jensen said he had to go and take care of some things in town. 
That gave you some time to get a home cooked meal in the oven and cooked before he was due to arrive home. This was something you felt  you didn't really do enough for him, not in the way that you felt you should, not really in the way you feel he deserves, especially with it being Christmas Eve. You thought it might be nice to have a good home cooked meal for him to come home to for once.
While the chicken was cooking you had cleaned the entire house, making it perfect and spotless for him. Now that the chicken was done you plugged in the Christmas tree he had wanted to decorate so badly, then finished the sides to go with your meal. 
For the first time since you had moved into this house, it felt like a home. It was clean, there was a fresh dinner being put together, and the Christmas tree was shining in the corner. Everything felt perfect.
Everything was finished just as the sun went down behind the trees, and you heard Jensen coming through the front door. You heard a "wow" come from his lips as he made his way through the house, and you had to bite your lip to hide the proud smirk that he'd noticed your work while he was away.
"Baby? Where are you?" you heard him call from the living room. 
"In the kitchen!" you yelled back. 
You could hear his heavy footsteps making his way closer to the kitchen before he stopped right behind you. You could literally feel the heat radiating off his strong body. He was so close to you, before he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to his chest before placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. 
"Sweetheart, you didn’t have to do all of this!" he said, looking down at the small feast you had created for the two of you, eyes wide and mouth opened slightly.
Turning around in his arms, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips closer to yours, and giving him a soft kiss before pulling away. 
"I thought we could use some food that wasn't processed, or come from some fast food place. We've eaten out all weekend." 
You ran your hand across his thick chest and watched the shiver leave his body as he pressed closer to you.
"You know I don't deserve you don't you." he said, holding onto you. His green eyes were boring into yours, like he was trying to transfer all the things he was feeling that he couldn't say to you. 
"Actually I'd say that was the other way around. I really don't deserve you." you tell him, putting your head against his shoulder, feeling his arms tighten around you.
"That's bull.You're everything I've ever wanted, don't you forget it either." he said, kissing the top of your hair. 
After the two of you had eaten, Jensen wanted to help you clean up the kitchen. He refused to let you do it alone. He complimented  you over and over again, barely even letting go of your hand while the two of you ate, like he just wanted more than anything to be closer to you.
"Why don't you go and get a shower sweetheart, and I'll go and set up everything in the living room, and we'll binge watch (your favorite show) and cuddle." he said, nuzzling into your neck,making a warm heat pool through you. 
Giving him a quick peck on the lips, you made your way to the shower, and as quickly as possible did what you needed to do, pulling your hair up into a messy bun, and drying and dressing quickly. This is what you wanted more than anything. To be alone, wrapped safely in Jensen's arms. Just the two of you.
When you stepped down into the living room all the lights were off, the Christmas tree was lit, and Netflix was paused, and waiting for you. Jensen had obviously jumped in the guest shower and gotten into his PJ's too. He was sitting on the floor, surrounded by pillows and blankets,waiting for you with a bottle of wine on ice, and two empty wine glasses. 
When he heard you come in, he smiled at you and patted the floor next to him. No matter how many times you saw that smile it took your breath away. Staggering over to where he was waiting, you sat  as close to him as possible, watching him pour wine into the glasses. He handed you one and pulled you as closely to him as possible,reaching over and turning on the TV, but keeping the volume low. 
"I got something for you." he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small black box from his pocket with a little red bow on it. 
"Oh Jensen, you shouldn't have gotten me anything! I didn't get to go to get you anything." you tell him as he takes the box ,and places it in your hands, pulling you tight to his chest. 
"You've already given me everything sweetheart. Some things I didn't even know I needed. I'm sorry I wasn't there when I should have been, but I'm going to make it up to you now. I love you so much." 
He pulled your lips to his in a soft, yet passion filled kiss. 
"Open it!!" he said, bouncing in his spot, looking more childish and cute than a grown man should ever have the right to. 
Pulling the little red ribbon tied up around the box, you opened it slowly. Opening it you saw the most beautiful victorian wedding set you had ever seen. Your jaw hit the floor.You loved vintage things. Especially the Victoria error. You didn't think he knew.
You never had a wedding ring. Your wedding was so untraditional, and you never paid it any attention until now. A tear fell from your eyes, and he gently wiped it away, drawing your attention back to him. 
"Oh Jensen it's gorgeous!" Was all you could stagger out, your emotions choking you. 
He gave you a soft smile, brushing the loose hair out of your face. 
"It's nothing compared to you." 
Pulling you into yet another passion filled kiss, he slipped the ring from the box and took your left hand, sliding the ring onto your finger. 
He turned your hand over in his hand,looking at your rings on your finger. You only just noticed that he wore a solid gold band on his left hand as well, something he hadn't done since he had gotten married to you. 
His lips were on you again in an instant, this time hungry. He licked your lower lip, begging for entrance which you happily granted. You wanted nothing more than to feel him. To be close to him.
Laying you down on the makeshift bed he had made on the floor his hands slowly started to roam your body. His mouth never leaves yours as his hands made little trails over your skin. 
He ran  his hand up your shirt feeling the soft skin of your sides and stomach, before coming in contact with your bare breast, a moan falling from both your lips. His fingers were gently massaging and playing with the sensitive flesh of your nipples.
"I need you sweetheart. I want to make love to you."
Your voice was caught in your throat. You couldn't answer, and to be honest he didn't really give you much time to do so before his mouth was on yours again in a heated, passionate kiss. breaking it to shed the two of you from your shirts.  He made quick work of shedding his bottom layers, then yours, kissing a trail all the way to your hips then back up to your breast. Taking them in your mouth one by one, his tongue lightly traced the peaks before moving back down your stomach. Your body felt like it was on fire, arching into him.
Jensen kissed you down to your knees, then back up again, leaving little kisses on the inside of your thighs. When he saw you were completely lost in what he was doing to your body, eyes closed, head back he made a gentle trail with his tongue through your already wet folds,causing a gasp to fall from your mouth. 
Looking up at you, you still had your eyes closed, so he again started his assault on your clit. His tongue lapping at your center like a man starved, increasing speed, then gently again,his sinful mouth driving you closer and closer to the edge.
You could feel the heat begin to pool in your lower belly, the coil tightening in your lower stomach quickly ready to snap. Then he added two of his long, thick digits, pumping them slowly into you. 
That was it, that was all it took for you to fall to pieces around him, your vision spotting in front of you, a deep gasp falling from your lips as you pulsed around his fingers. 
He gently slowed his ministrations until you came completely down from your high. His other hand was stroking his hard length. 
Slowly, he withdrew his fingers from you, you whimpered at the loss of contact, but he didn't leave you empty long, sliding his thick length into you while you were still a little high from your orgasm.
You moaned at the stretch he had created in you pumping himself into you slowly,never pulling out all the way, grinding your bodies against each other. 
His name fell from your lips  as he continued to drive both of you closer and closer to your release. 
"Your so beautiful sweetheart." he mumbled through moans, kissing you deeply as he continued to drive your bodies together. You could feel the coil tighten again in your lower belly.
"Jensen… I'm close...'' 
He picked up his pace just a little, still keeping your bodies held close together. 
"I know sweetheart, me too." 
Sliding his hand down between your two bodies he slowly started to circle your clit with his fingers in time with his thrust. Before you knew what was happening you were falling over the edge again, his name a prayer on your lips. You felt for a moment like you were going to pass out as you felt him spill himself deep inside of you, kissing your neck and grunting deeply.
Finally when both of your bodies had stilled, Jensen slowly removed himself from you, and pulled you closer to him, laying your head on his chest as his strong arms wrapped around you. 
"I love you so much Y/N" he said again for what felt like the thousandth time today, but you didn't think you'd ever get tired of hearing it.
"I love you to Jensen."
Both of you drifted off to sleep on your makeshift bed under the light of the christmas tree,Netflix forgotten  in the background.
You didn't ever think Christmas could be this good, or that you'd ever be this happy; yet here you where.
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Tag List: @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​ @deanwanddamons​ @imabitch4jensen​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​
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shadow--writer · 3 years
Text
And I'm Gonna go There Free, Like the Fool I am and I'll Always be
How chaotic can one Shade with the ability to word get? just learned to do a fancy thing too look at me go
The answer is very. Will I make a series after this? Who knows it’s very tempting. God I should make a post about this au as well lol. I pounded this out in one sitting btw. (song btw). 
--Maeve x Lucas (WITH some Amani x Zora in there too bitches look at me)--Modern au but not fight club lol my own kinda modern au-ish--4.2k words holy shit--
TW: none!
Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, tHEY ARE SO CUTE OMFG, Amani is a shithead, good lord I hope I got Zora’s character right, dancing, how much domestic fluff can I fit into one fic, FRIENDSHIP, dorks in love
In which dance lessons take a...different turn. Also Amani breaks into Maeve’s apartment and steals a barstool.
@mineshaft-birdie @dela-png
The day was a slow one. It was midafternoon and they had just finished up spring cleaning. 
She swayed her hips, humming along to the music playing. Lucas watched her from his spot on the couch, his off tune hum making her smile. She arched her back, leaning back with another sway. Her fingertips brushed the floor before she brought herself back up to her feet. 
He clapped making her giggle. “Amazing,” he said, a smile clear in just the tone of his voice. 
“I can teach you, you know,” she said, looking back at him. He held out a hand for her to grab, leading her to sit down on his lap. She straddled his hips, tucking her feet under his thighs. “How to dance, I mean,” she said, kissing his cheek. 
“You’ve seen me dance.”
“Exactly. You’ve seen me cook and yet you still try to help me. I want to do something for you in return.”
“Like teach me to dance?”
She leaned back, smiling. “Yeah! It’s fun. It’s great to let off steam, and it’s quite a workout. Besides I just...want to see you dance.”
“...I look like a dead fish a little kid is playing with.”
“Whoa that was specific.”
“...mmmmhm.”
She snorted, kissing the tip of his nose. She was not going to ask.
She pushed up off his lap, shrugging her jacket off. He let out a low whistle, making her laugh as she tossed the jacket aside. 
“Didn’t know it would be this kind of dancing.”
“Oh hush.” She shot him a look over her shoulder, throwing her hair up into a messy ponytail. “Can you help me move our furniture? Unless you want to move to my studio?” Her aerial silks studio. Only reason she bought this apartment. 
That and the nice view (along with walking distance to work but shush). 
“...I might wreck your TV.”
“Studio it is then. If you want to get changed that’d be good too. Jeans aren’t uhh...the best to learn a dance in.”
He let out a low sigh before getting to his feet. “Studio?”
“Yeah I just need to clean it up a little.”
“...you’re not gonna back down from this, are you?”
“Nope! Now go change.” He ruffled her hair against her protests, steps heavy as he walked to their bedroom. “The shirt is optional!” she called after him. 
He snorted, yelling back. “So is yours!”
She bit her lower lip to keep from grinning, fixing her ponytail. She grabbed her phone, going over into the studio to pin up her silks. On her way she picked up a little green box from the table in the hall. That same table Lucas kept bumping his legs against. 
She giggled at the thought, feeling nerves and butterflies flutter in her stomach as she looked at the box. She told Amani about what she was planning to do and today felt...right. 
Shoving it in her pocket she went to pin her silks up. 
He walked into the studio by the time she was finishing pinning the last one. She knew he had walked in due to the laughter. 
So yeah maybe she was on her tiptoes on a ladder. 
Har de har har.
“You know if you needed help you could’ve just asked,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. She turned to look at him with a little huff, the ladder shaking under the abrupt movement. 
“Well I’m sorry I was cursed with being short.”
“You sure you don’t need help?”
“I’m doing just fine thank you,” she sniffed, turning back around. She finished pinning the last silk, climbing down and putting the ladder back where it was. Smoothing down the front of her crop top she turned to look at him. 
“Okay now. That’s done, we can get into it!”
“...hurray.”
“Oh come on a little more pep please.”
“...hurray?”
“....that’ll have to do for now. Now where do you want to start?”
“Something easy?”
“...hmm wanna try mambo?”
“Is it easy?”
“Well not easy easy but it’s not that complicated. We can start with some of the simple movements, like the forward back step. If you’re feeling up for it I can also teach you how to dip.”
“Dip?”
She pursed her lips, walking back over to him. He had shed his jacket and opted for sweatpants. She was a little disappointed he still had his shirt on but she could wave it off. They both were in socks, making mambo a little harder but she was up for the challenge. 
“Here I can show you…” she said, grabbing his hands. He just watched her as she shifted one of his hands up on her shoulder, the other on her upper arm. She did her best to keep her hands on his upper back, leading him into a small side shuffle to lead into the dip. 
Keeping her body straight she shifted her weight into dipping him. His hands gripped her arm and shoulder, eyes widening. 
Good gravy was he heavy. 
“The hell are they feeding you?” she breathed. 
He blinked before laughing. “Ouch firefly, that stings.”
She rolled her eyes, lifting him back up. She let out a little huff of air as he kissed her softly. After pulling away he stood upright. “So that’s a dip. Think you’d be up for learning it?”
“It doesn’t seem super hard.”
She brightened. “It really isn’t! When you do dip me though, don’t lean close, it hurts my back.”
“Ah! Gotcha.”
“For now it’s forward backward mambo steps!” She grinned a little, adjusting the ribbon in her hair. He stared at it for a moment, the deep blue bringing out the darkness of her hair. She smiled, grabbing his hands again. 
“Where’d you get that?” he asked. 
“Aislin bought it for me a while back. Haven’t had the chance to wear it.”
“It’s beautiful on you.”
“O-Oh,” she stuttered, her cheeks warming. She ducked her head a little, embarrassed. She still wasn’t used to his out of the blue compliments even after being with him for so long. 
He coughed, squeezing her hands. “Dancing?”
“Yes! Right! Dancing!” she chirped, head snapping back up. Her brows were set with determination. 
She was going to get him to dance well. She would or she’d die trying. 
“So...where do we start?” he asked, just standing there awkwardly. 
“Well first with foot movements. Then hand placements. Put it together. Forward and back are the easiest steps, but it gets harder with more complex hand movements and spins.”
He looked horrified, she quickly cut back in. “For now though, forward and back. After you learn to dip me maybe we can learn side to side.” 
He nodded, a stubborn gleam sneaking into his eye.
“So first is how you move your feet.” She let go of his hands, moving to a spot in front of him. “We start on the second beat, and when we dance together we start on our right foot.”
She stepped forward on her right foot, brought it back to the middle with her left, back behind her, and finished by bringing it back to her left in the middle. 
“Oh that...doesn’t seem all that bad.”
“When you move faster it gets a little tricky, but yeah! Not super complicated. When you add the hips in…” she repeated what she did, but swaying her hips side to side along with her arms. “Now you try it with me!”
His movements were a little jerky, and he kept overstepping the middle but…
“You’re doing great!” she said with a large grin, backing up to set up music on her phone. Soft riffs of a guitar played as she shuffled her playlist.
“Can we...try it together?” he asked, eyes lighting up at her praise. He held a hand out for her to take. She walked closer to him, his hand warm and all encompassing around hers. 
“Sure. Arms.” He squeezed her hand once before letting it go and held his arms out. She lifted his left arm up, lacing their fingers together. She moved his other hand to the small of her back, resting her arm on top of his, not quite reaching his shoulders. One issue with a height difference was that dancing would be a pain. 
“Like this?” he asked, fingers tapping on her back. She squirmed a little at the touch, making him smile.
“Yeah! But not as tense,” she said, starting them off. He fell into it pretty quickly, what she dubbed his ‘focused face’ coming back into play. She felt a dopey smile climb across her face as she looked at him. 
When he got closer she shifted him back with a small glare. “Dance space, my love.” She let go of his arms to gesture. “This is mine.” She made a circle with her arms, he did the same. “That is yours.”
She grabbed his hands again. “No looking down,” she said with a giggle. “My eyes are up here. You can do this.”
They quickly fell into a rhythm, he was catching on quickly.
Then his arms got too loose. And he got very grabby, his hands traveling down south to her butt. 
“Noodle arms!” she gasped, moving her arm from his shoulder to swat his hand. “No wandering hands!” He pretended to pout, falling back into the dance again. 
He went in for a kiss, she moved her head so he got her chin and neck. His lips traveled down her neck as she squirmed, pushing at his chest with a laugh. “You are invading my dance space!”
She let go of him, pointing to her space again. “This is my dance space.” She pointed back to him. “That is yours. Let’s try it again.”
They went back to it for another moment, her eyes darting to her feet, before he tugged her closer, tilting her head up. “Don’t look down,” he said, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Look right at me.”
She snorted, stretching up on her toes to kiss his neck. “Hey now! Dance space!” he said with a laugh, pushing her back into position. His hair was escaping the little ponytail he had tied at the nape of his neck. She fought the urge to run her hands through it as it curled around his face in an adorable way. 
After their laughter quelled they settled into the movements. His tongue peaked out from between his lips as he concentrated, brows furrowed. He was slowly getting the loose but structured part of the arms, them moving in sync. 
Then ‘Toxic’ started blasting. She started humming along, lip syncing to it. He snorted, losing the rhythm a little as he watched her lose the mambo, moving her shoulders to the beat.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You love me.”
“Very much, but you’re still ridiculous.”
She arched her back away from his hands, spinning out of his grip, lip syncing but with passion. He laughed, moving back closer to her. She held and shook her head at ‘spinning round and round’ as he hooked his fingers through the belt loops of her pants. 
“Do you feel me now?” she sang softly, smiling. He rolled his eyes once before kissing her. She giggled, swaying back and forth in his arms. 
“What’s up bitches!” someone yelled from behind them. They jumped apart, Lucas yanking his hands out of her belt loops, her tripping over her own feet, face burning crimson. Toxic still merrily played behind them. 
“Amani, you spooked them.”
“Good.”
Maeve spun to look at the intruders. Ah. Of course. Amani. Oh but Zora was with her. That was great. The only voice of reason in this fucking group had just broke into her house. Ah yes that bode well. 
Maeve rubbed her temples before cracking an eye open. “How the fuck did you get into my- ...is that a barstool from my kitchen?�� 
“Yeah,” Amani replied with a shrug. 
“...you just broke into my apartment, grabbed a stool from my kitchen, and brought it into the studio with you?”
“Well there’s no other fuckin places to sit in this studio besides the floor and I’m not an animal!”
“...yeah. Sure.”
“Maeve!” Amani gasped, offended. 
“Well sweetheart, we did break into her apartment.”
“Not my fault she keeps the spare keys by her bed!”
“So that’s where they went!”
“...Zora I can’t believe you fed into this,” Lucas said once he got himself together from the embarrassment of being walked in on. “I thought you were the smart one.”
“Oh no I’m the one who acts smart but is the worst out of all of you.”
“WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE?!”
Amani had set the stool down and was sitting on it the way a man on the subway would sit. 
Aka Legs spread and looking like she was going to melt right off of it. Maeve could feel a headache coming on. 
“Was bored,” Amani offered. 
“...so you decided to commit a crime?”
“Yeah.” 
“Amani I’m gonna need a better answer than that for I am three seconds away from throwing you out a window.”
“Ouch Maevey that hurts.”
“One...two.”
“Got bored and decided to say hi. ‘Sides I brought the keys back.”
Maeve turned to look at Zora. Not the answer she wanted but it would do. “And you. What is your excuse?”
“Amani dragged me along. I was also bored.”
She turned to look at Lucas. “So these are the people we surround ourselves with?”
“Apparently.”
“Look without us you two would’ve been gettin it on in the studio. Woulda made a mess,” Amani cut it. Maeve felt her ears go red.
“We were not,” she sputtered. “I was teaching him to dance!”
“...uh huh.”
“That’s it!”
“It’s true! She’s teaching me mambo.”
“...can he actually dance it though?”
“Amani I’m hurt by that statement.”
“Well can he?”
“We’re learning forward backward steps Amani. He can’t mess those up.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Amani I thought we were friends!”
“Exactly.”
“Amani!”
Maeve snorted, looking over at Zora who was trying not to laugh. “Bored you say?”
“Well that and Amani just wanted to see you two.”
“...see us?” Lucas asked. “Why?”
“Uhh to congratulate the happy couple on their engagement, duh.”
“Amani!” Zora hissed, gesturing to both of their very empty ring fingers. Amani didn’t see her girlfriend’s increasingly panicked hand movements. 
Maeve felt her heart stop and sink straight into her feet. All the colour drained from her and Lucas’s faces. 
“...engagement?” Lucas peeped. 
Amani watched their reactions, face growing more confused. “What? You did ask her, didn’t you?”
“...no.”
Amani’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Oh SHIT.”
Zora smacked her forehead. “Oy vey,” she muttered. “Amani, baby, I love you but-”
Maeve didn’t hear the rest of her sentence, she only turned to look at Lucas. He still looked broken, she swore she could hear dial up streaming from his ears. 
“Darling?” she asked softly. He turned to look at her, cheeks reddening. 
“I have something to tell you,” they both sputtered at the same time.
She blinked. “You first.” Again said at the same time. 
“No you,” she said.
“No no, yours sounds important.”
The box in her pocket grew heavier with every heartbeat. God damnit Amani. 
“Well I...um,” she looked away, fidgeting. She never really felt nervous like this but...it was a big moment. 
She turned to shoot a low glare at Amani who only offered up a small nervous smile. God fucking damnit. 
“Well I was planning on doing this while we were alone,” she huffed, looking back at Lucas. She shoved her hand in her pocket, trying to fight the stutter out of her voice. “But apparently we had two guests coming over.”
“Just get it over with- OW!” 
She looked just in time to see Zora elbow Amani in the side. Amani muttered bitterly about how that ‘fuckin hurt’. Zora only shot Maeve a smile and a thumbs up. 
While she appreciated the sentiment…
She looked back at her boyfriend, letting out a low sigh. “I love you.”
“...uh oh.”
“Oh hush you.” He chuckled. It was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. “Fuck, I love you,” she whispered. He blinked, almost shell shocked. “I want to marry you,” she blurted out. 
“Yeah I love you- w-what?!”
She pursed her lips, letting out a little sigh. “Goddess I’m no good with words. Sometimes I wonder how I even got to date you. I’m blunt and mean and rude and vulgar but…” she dragged the box out of her pocket. “I managed to fall in love with a dumbass and a dork so it isn’t all that bad, right?”
“Maeve?”
“Holy fuck Lucas she’s asking you to spend the rest of your lives together!” Amani yelled from where she was sitting. 
No yelp, in fact Zora was nodding. The look Maeve shot her said all she needed to know. “What? Ami isn’t wrong.”
“You two are the worst,” Maeve groused. 
“You want to...marry me?” Lucas finally let out. 
She opened the box she was holding, rolling her eyes with a little smile. “Well yeah. After I kill Amani.”
“HEY!”
The ring itself was simple. It was only an engagement ring after all. Her grandfather made it a while back when she brought up the whole ‘getting married’ thing (he talked her ear off too. Her phone bill spiked). It was a silver band with a deep green stripe running through the middle. The green shimmered into something lighter when she moved it. 
“That’s funny,” he said, hand disappearing into the void that was his sweatpants’ pocket. He could shove both her and his hand in that thing. Of course she was jealous of it. 
He pulled out a ring. Not just any ring but her mother’s wedding ring. 
She felt tears well in her eyes. She had told him about it a while back when they first started dating. She didn’t know he remembered. The ring was a simple small silver band. It was braided into a celtic knot with a little turquoise at the top where the knots met. 
“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” He shot her a lopsided grin, her heart skipped a beat. “I uhh...I’m also no good with words but I love you, firefly. Of course I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I fucking love you giant.”
“There she is. I was getting worried with all your sappy talk.”
“Oh shut up,” she laughed. 
“But I didn’t get an answer.”
“Neither did I.”
“Well mine is ‘of fucking course’.”
“Hey you stole my answer!”
He chuckled as she slid the ring onto his hand. She rolled her eyes. “Fine. My answer is yes.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“You stole what I was gonna say.”
He laughed again, kissing her knuckles as he slipped the ring onto her finger. “You love me.”
“I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t.”
“FUCKIN FINALLY!”
“Amani you’re the one that almost ruined it.” “I DON’T CARE!”
A little sigh. “Sometimes I wonder why I love you so much.”
“For my stellar personality obviously.”
Zora giggled, Maeve turned in time to see her plant a kiss on Amani’s cheek. “That and just because I love you.”
“I cannot believe Amani almost ruined this,” Lucas muttered. She turned back to him, laughing as she got closer. She grabbed his left hand with hers, liking how their rings glittered when they moved. He ran his thumb along her knuckles, pausing at the jewelry. 
She lifted her head up, him leaning down to kiss her. 
Then Amani started screeching like an alarm. “THIS IS THE PURITY UNTIL YOUR WEDDING NIGHT ALARM. No handholding of any kind.”
Maeve giggled, joining in on the tomfoolery. Lucas sighed. “No need to worry, I am pure. We haven’t even shared a kiss.” 
Oh yeah they all knew that was a fucking lie.
“Oh? Not one kiss?” Lucas asked, grinning. 
“Nope. My lips are innocent. Saving them for my wedding.”
He bent down close, surprising her with an open mouth kiss. She let out a little squeak as his tongue tapped her teeth once before he pulled away. “That good enough for a first kiss?”
“Well it was supposed to be on my wedding night but…” she smiled, fiddling with the ring on her finger. “It’ll do.”
Amani let out a dramatic gag. “You two are disgusting.”
“Imagine what they’d be doing if we weren’t here,” Zora said, love clear in her tone. 
Amani gasped. “You’re right! Defiling the name of marriage I say!”
“Oh like the two of you are any better,” Maeve shot back. “Do I have to recount the amount of times I’ve caught you two in the storage closet at the pub?”
Zora chuckled. “Well you and Lucas in the pantry aren’t any better.”
“Let’sjustcutitandsayifanyofuswerecaughtbyourbossatworkwe’dbefired,” Lucas sputtered out, face going red. 
“Aww, but baby I thought you liked the thrill,” Maeve cooed. 
He shot her a low glare. Amani cackled. “Degenerates!” she yelled. 
“Amani, my love, my sweetness. Pot. Calling. Kettle. Black,” Zora said.
Amani gasped, melting completely off the stool. “My own girlfriend! Betraying me! Oh woe is me! The agony!”
They all giggled at Amani’s actions, she and Lucas scooting closer together. He wrapped his arms around her waist, swaying back and forth. The music and dancing lessons were long forgotten. 
“How about we go out for dinner tonight,” Maeve offered. 
“What? Like a double date?” Amani asked from her spot on the floor. Zora was laughing too hard to help her up. 
“Hmm...no. More like a party!”
Amani’s eyes lit up. “HELL YEAH A PARTY! We gonna get smashed and cause chaos?”
“...well sure.”
“Fuck YEAH!”
“...you are making my life so much harder,” Zora sighed, smiling. She looked back at Maeve again. “Who knew a pip squeak like you could hold your liquor so well.”
“I am not that short!”
“I will beat you at one of those games Maevey!”
“Maeve, you are the shortest out of all of us. You look like a kid.”
Maeve pouted. “Yeah I can still drink you all under the table. Yes even you Amani Ms. ‘can’t-play-guitar-sober-but-somehow-can-drunk’.”
“OH SHUDDUP!”
Lucas laughed, squeezing Maeve’s hip before going over to squat by Amani. 
Zora walked over to the now abandoned Maeve. “Well...how are you feeling?”
“Like I’m gonna wake up any second?”
“That’s fair.”
“You think you and Amani will do this?”
“What?”
“Get married.”
Zora’s eyes remained on Lucas now crying about how gravity was increasing on him. Amani let out a squeal as he fell on top of her. 
“Well...maybe. I haven’t thought that far. I love Ami but who knows where our future lies.”
“A wedding with you two would be pretty chaotic.”
“Oh yes definitely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“LUCAS GET OFF ‘O ME YA SEMI TRUCK!”
“Amani that hurts my feelings!”
“GET OFF!”
“For that comment? No!”
Maeve and Zora giggled. “I am happy for you and Lucas. Sorry Amani almost ruined it, don’t think she realized.”
“Oh no I’m more mad about the fact you two broke into my apartment again. You should just take the key.”
“...you sure about giving us the key?”
Maeve sighed. “You’re gonna take it anyways. I can just get another spare made.”
“Amani is gonna take that as an invitation to come over as often as she can.”
“Good to know. My room locks will be changed.”
Zora snorted. “Once again, congrats. Sorry you had to do that infront of us.”
“Remind me to strangle Amani later.”
“...mmm fine but don’t wreck her pretty face.”
“Noted.”
“When are we gonna go! I wanna party!” Amani whined from where she weaseled out from underneath Lucas.
“You do realize this is a celebration of mine and Maeve’s engagement right?”
“Yeah it’s also an excuse to tell embarrassing stories.”
“...oh no.”
Maeve perked up. “Oho? Stuff I don’t know? Let’s go.”
“First we’re gonna give you a makeover,” Amani said, walking over to drag Maeve out of the studio. 
Zora untied her blue ribbon, handing it over to Lucas. “Milady’s token of her affection,” she said with a curtsy. Maeve’s protests went unheard. 
He bowed, making Zora smile. “I thank you for the token of her affection. I will treasure it always.”
“You better be planning to give that back later,” Maeve groaned as Amani dragged her away. 
“Depends. It is a token of my love’s favour.”
“Ugh I hate you.”
“But you’re still marrying me~”
She sighed. “Of course. How could I forget.” She looked back at Amani. “And the fuck are you doing?”
“Gods you need your ears checked. I am giving you a makeover for your engagement party.”
“What? Why?! I look fine!”
“Well the high waisted pants with your crop top is cute and all, I want to make you so fucking hot Lucas kneels over.”
“She does that every time I see her,” Lucas called from the doorframe. 
Maeve glared at him. “Don’t encourage her.”
He only smiled, waving at them as they made their way to her room. Zora was making sure Maeve wouldn’t escape. To her short ass it was like two very tall amazon ladies were her escorts. 
Or in this case prison guards. 
“I’d like to see them try to make you even more gorgeous,” he said with a wink. “It’d be a fun challenge.”
“We have Zora on our side!” Amani grinned. “You get dolled up too and then we go cause a ruckus!”
Maeve sighed. 
It was going to be a long, chaotic night. 
7 notes · View notes
winterune · 4 years
Text
Here with Me
A CloTi Valentine’s Day special fanfiction for the Final Heaven Discord Server’s CloTi Confessions 2020 event
Rating: T
Summary: It is Tifa's first Valentine's Day with Cloud as a couple and she wonders just how she is going to celebrate it with him. 
Word count: 2860
A/N: not sure where it is set. A mixture of modern AU but still set in the FF7 world lol
Also available on AO3.
~*~*~*~*~
February 14 was just around the corner and all Tifa could see were boxed chocolates, wrapped heart-shaped cookies, or a variety of cakes on display in pastry shops and bakeries. Even now, a week before Valentine’s, there were already long lines of women and girls wanting to buy whatever chocolate they could get their hands on. She remembered how, when she was back in school, her classmates would prepare heartfelt chocolates for the boys they liked. She remembered how those boys would compare with each other how many chocolates they had gotten.
It wasn’t Tifa’s first time buying a chocolate for a boy; not when she had been giving him friendship chocolates for as long as she could remember. Every year, she would stand there in line with a couple chocolates on hand: one for her father, one for Cloud. Yet now, as she stood before the heart-shaped chocolates on display, she couldn’t bring herself to choose which one she would buy.
In her hands was a red box tied with red ribbon. Inside it was a variety of high-quality heart-shaped chocolates. She checked the price tag.
“Three thousand gil?” she murmured to herself.
Beside it was a stack of boxes containing truffles coated in a special mirror-like glaze: 3,800 gil.
There were other boxes on display too—fancier ones, simpler ones. One was a two-tier black box with gold sakura patterns that no doubt contained one of the best confectioneries in the city. Another one was heart-shaped filled with all kinds of chocolates and the message Be My Valentine at the center.
Five thousand… Six… Eight thousand gil?!
That was ridiculous. Who would in their right mind buy such an expensive chocolate just for Valentine’s Day?
Tifa returned the box to its stack and quietly sighed. Of course; she had gone into one of the top-branded stores. What had she expected?
“Find anything yet?” a voice said from behind her.
Aerith was standing there, her long brown hair in its usual braid. She had offered to accompany her on her hunt for the perfect chocolate, but from Tifa’s frown, she knew the hunt had been in vain.
“Should we look at another store then?” she offered.
They had scoured every inch of the shopping district, visiting all the pastry shops, bakeries, and confectionery stores they could find. They had even went inside some department stores in the hopes they would sell some kind of chocolate for Valentine’s, but alas, not one of the stores had the chocolate Tifa had in mind. Not that she had any particular chocolate in mind. She did find some of the cookies and cupcakes in previous stores cute, with their kiss me or I love you messages, but they lacked…delicacy. They were not something she wanted to give him.
“Let’s just go home for the day,” Tifa said, leading her friend away from the display and exiting the store.
Outside was cold. Even in the last throes of winter people still crowded the street, especially school girls, giggling with their friends as they left one store or another, each with a bag in hand. Tifa stared at them for a few moments, her finger twitching and her lips pursing, before she covered her nose with her scarf and stuffed her gloved hands into her coat pockets.
“I never knew picking out a honmei chocolate would be this hard,” Tifa mumbled through her scarf.
“That’s why I said you should just make him one,” Aerith replied, “instead of wasting all that money on some branded chocolate.”
“Yeah, but—” Tifa began, but found herself speechless now that she was going home empty-handed.
This was something they had debated before. It wasn’t that Tifa was against the idea. But…homemade? And on Valentine’s Day? She knew people said a homemade honmei chocolate carried more meaning than store-bought one, but—
“What if I mess it up?”
“You won’t mess it up,” Aerith said. “He’ll be happy with whatever you give him.”
“That’s the problem! He’ll accept whatever I give him that sometimes I wonder if they’re any good.”
Aerith sighed through her nose. “Tifa, listen,” her friend said firmly. “Everyone loves your cooking, including him. Has he ever said anything about not liking them?”
“Well, no, but—”
“And you often make cookies or cupcakes as freebies in your bar and everyone’s always loved them.”
“I guess, but—”
“Then there you have it. You won’t mess it up. I’m sure of it!”
Aerith was beaming but Tifa bit her lower lip.
“But those weren’t Valentine’s chocolates.”
“And why are Valentine’s chocolates any different?”
Tifa met Aerith’s gaze from the corner of her eyes. She found genuine curiosity in there and it made it all the more difficult to voice her reason, because it was lame and stupid and she was already twenty yet she still didn’t know the first thing she should do when it came to the boy she liked.
Aerith was still looking at her and those piercing eyes really put her in the spot.
“Because they’re supposed to be special?” Tifa mumbled. “I don’t know. Kind of like heartfelt? Romantic? Personal?”
“Wouldn’t it be more personal to give him your homemade chocolate rather than a store-bought one?” Aerith asked the question that had been bugging Tifa the most. Because yes, she knew that it would make the chocolate more personal and heartfelt and romantic and he would know the effort it took for her to give him one, but to put her feelings out there for the world to see… Tifa couldn’t help but feel nervous every time she thought about it. With a store-bought chocolate, she wouldn’t really need to make herself be so vulnerable, but with a homemade one, it would be her effort and her feelings mixed inside the chocolate, and if they weren’t enough—
“There’s that insecurity rearing its ugly head again,” Aerith said, interrupting Tifa’s train of thoughts.
Tifa glanced at her friend, who was staring ahead. They were already at the intersection. They would need to separate here, but Aerith was already grabbing her hand and said, “Come on. We’re going to my house.”
***
“First thing first,” Aerith said when they had arrived in her house—a cute little house in a small neighborhood. Her mother was there, already preparing dinner in the kitchen. Tifa was invited, and after happily accepting it, Aerith immediately led her up to her room in the second floor. She grabbed a Valentine’s-Day-special food magazine they had just bought in the bookstore along the way from her bag and sat on her bed, flipping through the pages until she reached the section on snacks and deserts. “We’re going to look for inspiration.”
Hesitantly, Tifa sat down beside Aerith and looked through the magazine with her. But there weren’t anything new, only more cookies and cupcakes and shortcakes and cheesecakes and even more chocolate cakes and chocolate hearts and chocolate truffles. Cloud didn’t have a sweet tooth, but he wouldn’t say no to chocolate. Tifa didn’t think there were any flavor he was particularly fond of or any he particularly hated. She had seen him eat chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, caramel, hazelnut over the years.
“Oh, this looks nice!” Aerith said, pointing to a certain box of chocolates at the bottom of the page. They looked like truffles coated in mirror glaze, much like the one Tifa had seen in the confectionery store before, but these ones looked uncannily familiar. There were 5 truffles in a box: green, red, blue, yellow, and purple. Where the truffles from before looked like tiny planets, these one looked to be so glossy and shining like materias.
“Materia chocolates,” Aerith read the caption out loud.
“They really made materia-inspired chocolates,” Tifa mused.
“These look really cool!” Aerith said. “I bet Zack would be ecstatic if he got these. Let me check how they’re made.”
Aerith grabbed her phone and started browsing for some recipe, while Tifa stared at the picture of the materia chocolates. They looked so real they were practically jumping out of the pages. Maybe Cloud would love to get one of these, too. However, even as she thought that, it was also not something that perfectly conveyed her feelings for him.
“Do you always give Zack homemade chocolates?” Tifa asked.
“Yep.”
“Don’t you ever feel nervous?”
Aerith looked up from her phone and met Tifa’s gaze. “Sure I did,” she said. “When I gave him my first homemade honmei chocolate, I broke into cold sweats wondering how he’d react. It was also my first time making chocolates, mind you. I didn’t know how it’d taste. I was sure he wouldn’t like it. But you know what? When I gave him those tiny chocolates all wrapped up in cheap plastic I bought in a convenience store just outside the neighborhood, he smiled. He had this bright smile—the brightest smile he had ever given me—and it was one of the most precious things I had ever seen. All my worries were completely erased.”
Aerith had a small nostalgic smile on her face and Tifa found herself smiling back. “Sounds nice.”
“It is,” Aerith said. “So, even though this is your first Valentine together as a couple, don’t be scared. You’ve been together with Cloud for years, and if you ask me, all I’ve ever seen is the face of a boy in love, even before you two started dating.” Then she smirked. “And I’d say the same thing about you too.”
Tifa felt her face heating up as she bit her lip. That was…old news. Tifa didn’t remember when she stopped seeing him as a mere friend and started seeing him as a boy—when she stopped giving him homemade cookies and instead bought him chocolates from convenience stores on Valentine’s Day every year; when she started looking at the girls at school confessing their feelings on this particular day and wondering if she would ever have the courage to do that.
“Aww, now you’re all embarrassed,” Aerith said with a teasing smile, dipping her head to peer into Tifa’s face, because Tifa, not knowing what to do with herself, had hid it behind her dark hair.
“Shut up,” Tifa said but she was smiling and she couldn’t stop it.
Aerith grinned. “Come on. Let’s make the best chocolate that will make Cloud speechless.”
***
Valentine’s Day rolled in before she knew it and finally, the chocolates were done and ready and placed inside a cute yellow box she had found in the convenience store outside Aerith’s neighborhood. When she had not been tending to her bar, Tifa had been spending her days with Aerith in her home or in the florist Aerith owned just down the street from the 7th Heaven, trying to come up with an idea on what kind of chocolates Tifa would want to give to Cloud. It hadn’t been until Yuffie strolled down the street and said that she had just seen Cloud and Zack riding their chocobos out of town that an idea struck her.
“Chocobos?” Aerith had asked her.
Tifa had nodded. “Cloud has been saying how he missed riding out on a chocobo, so maybe I can make a chocobo-themed chocolate?”
“Oh! That’s a nice idea! But, how will that work, exactly?”
Tifa had the image in her mind. A chocobo standing on a field of grass, with a simple message on the side, with one character on one square block of chocolate. She later spent most of the remaining days until Valentine’s Day in Aerith’s house, finalizing her chocolate idea and finally making it.
And now it was morning and they had promised to meet in the bar. Tifa was killing time by wiping the counter even though it was spotless clean, because her heart was hammering and her hands were sweating and she needed to keep herself busy lest she’d puke.
It was weird. They had known each other since they were children, been together since anyone could remember, and this wasn’t the first time she had given him Valentine’s chocolates. And though they had been going out for almost a year now—a fact she was still amazed of until this day—it didn’t stop the butterflies from wreaking havoc in her stomach.
It was going to be all right. He would come in. She would give him his chocolates. And they would live happily ever and after—
Dammit! This is not the time for that!
Tifa braced herself against the counter, letting out a loud sigh through her lips. Had Aerith given her chocolate to Zack yet? Tifa wondered how it had gone. She and Yuffie had pitched in to help make them—those materia chocolates. Tifa chuckled. She couldn’t believe Aerith actually managed to make them. Though in the end it didn’t end up looking like the pictures, because the mirror glaze was quite hard to make. They had just coated it in cocoa, strawberry, or matcha powder, nuts, and other sprinkles. Tifa could just imagine Zack’s astonished look when Aerith handed it to him.
How would Cloud look when she gave him his chocolate?
She checked the clock on the wall and was surprised to find it had already been half an hour past the time they were supposed to meet.
Tifa sat up straight and grabbed her phone. Did Cloud say anything about being late?
Just as she was about to check her mails, however, the door to the bar burst open, and there stood Cloud, in his dark coat, his blond hair disheveled. His appearance was so sudden that all nervousness and anxiety were driven away from Tifa’s mind.
“Cloud?” she exclaimed.
“Sorry, I—” He was breathless. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his chest heaving, as though he had run a mile. When he finally looked at her, she saw that his face was flushed, his jaws set, and with eyes that looked straight toward her, Cloud took several long strides until he reached the counter. But before she could do or say anything, he had procured from the pocket of his coat a single red rose, which he offered to her. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”
Tifa blinked once, or twice, absently taking the rose from Cloud’s fingers with a quiet thank you. It happened too fast. Her brain was still trying to catch up with the sudden change of events.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, was it?
Her eyes were drawn toward the rose. A red rose, still fresh. Cloud had probably just bought it then. Or he could have plucked it somewhere in his rush to see her.
Tifa looked at him, really looked at him, and she realized the flush in his cheeks was more than due to exertion or the cold. The redness that had spread to his neck and ears, the pursed lips, the stiff back—Cloud had been nervous. Had he been too nervous that he ended up buying the rose on a whim? Had he bought it to alleviate his nervousness?
Whatever the reason was, Cloud’s unexpected gift made her giggle.
Her laugh seemed to unwind some tension off of him and Cloud looked at her in confusion. “Tifa?”
“Sorry, it’s just—” Tifa smiled. “Shouldn’t I be the one to give you something on Valentine’s Day?”
“Ah—” Cloud said, as though he had completely forgotten about that and the realization made him blush even more.
Tifa couldn’t stop herself. Her smile turned to a grin, which turned to a chuckle and a laugh. It seemed as though Cloud’s purpose in life was to make her laugh or smile to death because her heart was already filled to the brim with love for this awkward boy she had known all her life, and if he didn’t stop blushing, Tifa feared her love for him would spill and they wouldn’t know what to do with her.
Tifa placed the rose on the counter and gave him the yellow box of chocolate she had kept in the fridge. A simple yellow rectangular box with printed chocobo silhouettes, tied in a simple yellow ribbon. On its front was a handwritten card that said: Happy Valentine’s Day. Thank you for always being here with me.
Cloud looked at her, then at the box, before taking it in his hands and carefully undoing the ribbon. Inside were rows and rows of square blocks of chocolates of various colors: whites, blues, greens, yellows, reds, and dark chocolates, all forming a pixelated form of a chocobo standing on a grassy field under a vast blue sky, with the characters I, heart, and U on the side.
“Did you make this?”
“Is it weird?”
Cloud shook his head and when he looked at her, she saw him smile the brightest smile he had ever given her that made time seem to stop. Aerith was right. It was the most precious thing Tifa had ever seen.
“This is the best thing ever,” he said, and he pulled her into a quiet kiss, before whispering, “Thank you.”
~ END ~
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superfem-imagines · 4 years
Text
Birthday Surprises
So this is by far my longest yet, at 2,095 words. I hope everyone likes it, it wasn’t requested but I wrote it for Lena’s birthday which is apparently today (according to the content on my dash lol).
With her cape rustling behind her, Kara walked over to Winn, practically buzzing. “Hey Winn, can I call in a favor?” With his confirmation, she plopped into the chair next to him, grin splitting her face.
--------------------
The only noise in the quiet office was the clacking of her keyboard. Lena sighed, running her hands over her hair before sending the email she had written to her business partners in Hong Kong. Moving to the alcohol cabinet, she poured herself a glass of wine, absently staring at her desk. A bright trill broke the silence and Lena retrieved her phone from near her laptop.
A picture of Kara with walrus chopstick teeth lit up her phone, along with a message from her. She smiled before opening her phone and reading the message.
Hey Lee! Game Night tomorrow at 7!
Checking her calendar, she saw that tomorrow was also her birthday. She grimaced at the thought but decided it was better to spend it with her best friend than working all night.
Sounds good, Kara. Would you like me to bring anything?
Just your cute ass
Brows up near her hairline, she reread the message, another one coming in right after.
That was Alex
Not that you don’t have a cute ass
Not that I was looking though- I would never.
Lena chuckled, amused that Kara was able to trip over her own words when texting.
I’ll be there, darling. Smiling, she packed up and left the office, telling Jess to go home on her way out. Maybe for once her birthday wouldn’t be so bad.
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Lena dropped her purse onto her office couch, pausing as she saw a plain brown bag on her desk. She slowly walked over to it, opening it carefully in case there was a device in it. She wouldn’t put it past her brother to leave her a bomb on her birthday. In fact, she’d be surprised if he didn’t.
Taking a deep breath, she looked inside. Instead of a bomb, there was a white box with a blue ribbon tying it closed and a coffee cup next to it. Pulling out the card that rested on top, she opened it, breaking into a smile as she read the scrawled handwriting.
“Hey Lee, I happened to be in Paris this morning so figured I’d get you something. I won’t be able to come by for lunch but I will see you tonight. Have a great day!
- Kara”
Curious, she pulled out the box and cup. Untying the ribbon, she found some fresh madeleines sitting on a plush cloth. She pulled one out and took a bite, letting out a gentle moan at the taste. They were light and airy and the label marked them as the ones from the little cafe she had told Kara about. She finished the small pastry before grabbing the cup and taking a drink from it, the label matching the box’s. She smiled, grateful that Kara had gone out of her way to get these.
--------------
“Aleeex,” Kara whined, attitude not lining up with her Supergirl persona. She spun on the wheely chair in her sister’s lab, too nervous to stay still. “What if she doesn’t like them?”
Sighing, Alex pinched the bridge of her nose and took off her glasses. She grabbed Kara by the shoulders, stopping her from spinning. “Kara, stopping stressing on it. She’s gonna love them.”
“Ye- yeah, you’re right. I’m sure she’ll lo-” before Kara could launch into a rant, her phone went off, a text from the very woman.
So, a little birdy left something on my desk.
Kara smiled at the message, putting her hand on Alex’s forehead, keeping her from shaking her again.
Thank you, Kar. I love them.
“Well?” Alex huffed, wanting to see what the dark haired CEO was saying.
“She said she loved them!” Kara beamed, bouncing on the creaking stool.
I’m glad you do, Lee. Sorry I can’t make it to lunch today.
That’s alright, we can go to it some other time.
But we were going to try that new Italian place. Kara pouted after sending that one, sad that her surprise was going to interfere with her lunch plans with Lena.
We can go next week, yeah?
Still pouting, Kara texted back while still ignoring Alex. Ok, I’m holding you to that though!
Of course, darling. I have a board meeting so I will see you tonight
Have fun!
“Well?” At her sister’s demanding tone, Kara grinned up at her, shoving the phone in Alex’s face.
“She said she loved them!” Kara shouted, doing a quick spin on the chair.
“She also called you ‘darling’.” Alex wagged her eyebrows at the Kryptonian puppy in front of her, laughing as Kara’s ears turned red and she sputtered for a response.
-----------------
Kara gently landed on her balcony, a deep blue box in her hands. She set it on the counter, looking at the German writing before removing the cardboard. A white cake with deep green ivy and “Happy Birthday Lena” in fancy writing on top in a lighter shade. Satisfied, she put the cover back on and moved it to the spare bedroom before placing the ice cream in the freezer.
Looking at the clock, she realized she had 15 minutes before the Superfriends arrived. Using a burst of superspeed, Kara quickly cleaned up the apartment, finishing right as there was a knock on the door. She fixed her hair and opened the door, revealing Winn and James, the latter holding a bottle of wine.
“I have to run and get something really fast guys, can you hold down the fort till I’m back?” Kara looked at her phone, checking the time Lena will be there.
“Of course, is everything okay?” James asked, a concerned look on his face.
“Yea, I should be back soon. Lena said she’d be a little late so I should be back before she gets here.” She thanked the boys before flying out the window.
-------------
Kara silently landed in a side alley, changing before stepping out. She was on a side road in Britain, a short walk from the shop she was looking for. Stepping through the jewelers doors, she walked to the counter. An older man quickly appeared from the backroom, smiling at her.
“What can I do for you dear?” He asked, light blue eyes trained on her.
“I’m here to pick up an item.”
“What’s the name?” He grabbed a notepad before turning back to her.
“Kara Danvers.” Nodding, he disappeared into the backroom again. She looked around the little shop, admiring the different jewelry on display.
“Is this it?” The older man appeared in front of her with a sleek black box, opening it so she could check.
“Oh wow,” Kara breathed, gently touching the cool metal. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”
“No problem.” After a quick exchange, she was on her way, black box tucked away.
------------
She landed back in her living room before smiling at her friends. “I’m back!” She goes into the kitchen as Alex follows her.
“Well?” Alex asked, breathless from anticipation. Kara opened the box, smiling as Alex softly gasped. “It’s so pretty, Kar. She’ll love it.”
Before Kara could respond, the doorbell rang. She called to the others that she’d get it, handing the box to Alex so she could move it to the spare room with the cake.
Kara bounced to the door, swinging it wide open to reveal her best friend. “Hey Kara, sorry I’m late. I had to deal with that meeting.”
“That’s okay.” Kara reassured, pulling the woman into a tight hug. As they entered the living room Kara clapped her hands, getting everyone’s attention. “Alright people! You’re all going down!” Kara grinned, sitting with Lena at the couch as the boys booed.
----------
After cleaning and almost everyone was gone, Lena was getting ready to leave. Kara wrung her hands together, nervous for what was to come. “Hey Lee?” Kara paused as those bright green eyes stared at her. “Can you stay a little longer?”
Lena set back down her purse, turning the the nervous blond in front of her. “Yeah sure. Is everything okay?”
“Y-yeah! Everything’s great. I- uh, I actually wanted to give you something,” she paused to grab a scarf that was sitting on the couch before stepping up to Lena. She held up the scarf, smiling. “It’s a surprise though.” Lena shook her head as she turned her back to Kara, indicating for Kara to blindfold her.
With her vision blocked, all she could hear was Kara leave before coming back and setting something down. She still didn’t remove the makeshift blindfold as Kara stepped up in front of her and began to talk.
“So I had called in a favor yesterday to figure out something. And I wanted to make it special so I went to Paris and Germany and Britain, because you’re so important to me and-” Lena cut Kara off as she reached out for the bubbly blond.
“Kar, I love when you ramble but you’re making me nervous,” Lena murmured, clasping Kara’s hands. The blond laughed nervously before removing the blindfold, letting Lena’s eyes adjust. “Now, what was it you wanted to make so special?”
“Well I realized the other day that I didn't know when your birthday was,” seeing Lena stiffen, Kara rushed to continue. “Which is totally fine! I understand- kind of. But the point is, you’re so amazing and I wanted to show you that. So I cancelled our lunch,” Lena raised an eyebrow at that, “I went to Paris this morning for your breakfast.”
Kara gently grasped Lena’s shoulders to turn her around, revealing the cake now sitting on the counter. “I went to this amazing cake place in Germany to get the best cake ever,” Kara gently steered Lena closer to the cake, admiring the baker’s work. “It’s red velvet with a buttercream frosting.”
Kara walked around her to grab the black box, now tied with a green ribbon. “Then I went to Britain and talked to this cute old man who helped me make this for you.” Kara gently handed the box to Lena, clasping her hands in front of her nervously.
Lena barely breathed as she gently untied the ribbon, letting it drop before opening the box. Inside, nestled on black velvet, sat a bright green stone linked to a shimmering silver braided chain. She admired the craftsmanship through teary vision.
“The chain is metal from the pod I used to get here,” Kara said quietly. “The stone is Kryptonite.” At that Lena snapped her head up to look at Kara.
“Are you nuts? This could hurt you!” Lena exclaimed, getting ready to move away.
“It can’t though,” Kara gently grabbed Lena’s forearm, stopping her from moving. “Alex made it to where it can’t.”
“Oh.” Lena’s brow furrowed in contemplation, thinking back to what Kara said. “So you just gave a random man the metal and what? A design and just trusted him with it?”
“Well,” Kara scratched the back of her neck, thinking back to the older man. “It’s a long story but he’s not exactly human. I saved him a while back and helped him settle down in the UK. The people from his planet are good with metal and jewels so he wanted to help me make it, to repay me for helping him.”
“Also,” Kara continued, crinkle forming. “None of the others knew about this, other than Alex and that was because I was worried you wouldn’t like it. I mean, you didn’t tell me about your birthday so I thought, ‘maybe I’m crossing a line’ ya know? Just going and figuring out when your birthday is. Cause what if you were upset with me and-”
“Kara,” Lena interrupted, laugh coloring her voice. “Thank you. Though I have to ask, how did you figure out when my birthday is?”
“I can’t answer that one, I promised the person because “She’ll murder me if she found out, Kara!”” At the interpretation Kara raised her voice to a higher pitch in a mocking way. Kara held out a hand for the necklace, taking it and moving behind Lena, brushing the dark hair away in order to clasp the necklace around her neck. She moved back in front of Lena, admiring the way it brought out her eyes.
Lena smiled up at Kara before pulling her into a hug, thanking the blond kryptonian. Internally Kara sighed, maybe one day she’d tell Lena she loved her. But for now, this was just fine.
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Note
tyrus prompt??? all cyrus's friends get asked to homecoming,,, but no one asks cyrus and he tries to act happy for his friends, but really he's a sad boi. then tj realizes he might have a chance with cyrus and asks him to the dance, but cyrus thinks he's just doing it so he doesn't have to go alone??? but then they share their real feelings with each other and they're really cute???
So… my school never had Homecoming so I’m not sure how big of a deal it is but, since we all want romance and cuteness for Tyrus, I made it a HUGE deal lol Enjoy!
“Do you think I should go with this purple dress or the green?”
“Purple! I have the perfect headband to lend you for that!”
“Okay, I’ll let Marty know. He still has to get a tie.”
“And apparently, Jonah only has blue ties so I need to take him shopping so we’ll actually match.”
“You’re still going with the pink dress?”
“Of course! I worked so hard on it!”
Cyrus forced a smile as he listened to his friends chatter on about dresses and ties and now they’ve moved on to corsages. Around him, similar conversations were occurring. 
It was Homecoming Week and everyone was busy preparing for the big Dance on Friday… except for him.
To make it simple: he didn’t have a date. And he had no plans of asking anyone.
Being one of the few openly gay guys in his school sucked sometimes.
“What about you, Cy?”
Both girls turned to him, expectantly.
He busied himself with pretending to look for something in his locker. “Me? I’m not going.”
The girls gasped.
“Why not?” Buffy asked. “It’s our first Homecoming Dance as high school students! Everyone is going to be there!”
“If you need help with an outfit, we can help,” Andi added.
Cyrus really didn’t want to subject himself to being the fifth wheel in their little group.
“Nah, I’m good,” he replied, finally finding a random book and pulling it out. “Besides, I don’t have a date.”
“You can go stag!” said Buffy. “A lot of people go stag at Dances!”
“But you guys aren’t,” he ended up saying a bit too sadly. “You have dates. I’m gonna be left out either way.”
The two girls flashed each other looks, probably realizing that he had been feeling like the odd one out during all the hullabaloo.
“You know…” Andi placed a hand on his arm. “We don’t have to go with Marty and Jonah. We can go together! Just the three of us!”
“Yeah!” Buffy agreed, nodding so aggressively that her hair bounced. “The Good Hair Crew all together! Right? We don’t need dates!”
They were sweet but now Cyrus just felt bad. He closed his locker and gave them a forced smile.
“It’s okay, I’m just being whiny,” he said. “You guys have fun with your dates. I’ll be fine.”
Andi frowned. “But, Cy-.”
“Oh, I gotta get to class. See you guys later!”
Without giving them another chance to try and comfort him, Cyrus turned on his heels and quickly made his way down the hall to his next class. Unfortunately, even if he was far away from his best friends, he still couldn’t escape all the Homecoming talk. It would only proceed to get worse over the next few days, the closer they were to the date.
On his way to class, he spotted T.J. at his own locker. Perking up, he approached.
“Hey, Teej,” he greeted.
The jock turned his head and flashed him a smile, making Cyrus almost go weak in the knees. Almost.
“Hey there, Underdog. Walking to Bio?”
“Yep.”
The taller boy closed his locker. “Cool, I have History. Let’s walk together.”
They made their way down the hall, side-by-side. And if Cyrus brushed his hand against T.J.’s a little, the jock made no comment.
“So… are you excited for Homecoming?” T.J. asked.
Cyrus couldn’t help but groan. “Don’t remind me,” he mumbled. “It’s all anyone can talk about.” He took a peek at the taller boy. “Are you going?”
Instead of answering, T.J. asked, “Are you?”
Cyrus shrugged. “I don’t have a date.”
“Neither do I. Wanna go-.”
He was interrupted by a chorus of cheers and they slowed down to watch a guy holding a bouquet of flowers, a banner behind him being held by his friends with the words “Will you go to Homecoming with me, Riley?” emblazoned in giant glittery letters. The girl in question, Riley, appeared to be stunned at the display but eventually nodded and accepted the bouquet. Then, the two hugged to more cheers.
Cyrus chuckled. “That’s like the third one today. And it’s only 4th period.”
“Well, Homecoming is a big deal to high schoolers.”
Cyrus turned his head to look at him. “So, what were you saying before?”
“Oh, right.” T.J. looked ahead, avoiding his gaze. “Since you don’t have a date, I was wondering…”
Cyrus held his breath in. Was T.J. going to… was he going to ask Cyrus to Homecoming?
His heart was on overdrive as he anticipated the jock’s next words.
“…maybe you’d like to go…”
Cyrus couldn’t breathe.
“… stag together.”
Oh.
Heart sinking, Cyrus tried not to show his disappointment. A part of him wanted to say “yes” in a loud and cheery voice, but another part wanted to say “no” and just stay home with a box of Oreos and Disney movies.
But, then, he looked at T.J.’s hopeful face and realized that maybe his friend just really wanted to go to the Dance but didn’t want to be alone. And if Cyrus could be alone with him, then neither of them would be as lonely, right?
So, he put on a smile and replied, “Sure.”
Instantly, T.J.’s face lit up. “Great! Uh, I’ll talk to you later about it? Thanks, Underdog!”
To Cyrus’ amusement, the athlete bounded off to his class, practically bouncing.
……………
At 6pm on the dot, the doorbell rang. Nervously, Cyrus fixed his royal blue bowtie and checked his hair in the hallway mirror before answering it.
T.J. stood on his doorstep, hair styled with minimal gel and dressed to the nines in a black suit and a royal blue tie. In his hands, still in its plastic box, was a white rose with a blue ribbon wrapped around it. He had a matching one pinned to the lapel of his suit.
Cyrus raised his brow at it. “You brought me a corsage?”
T.J. shrugged as he stepped into the house. “They come in pairs,” he answered, opening the box. He gestured to Cyrus’ suit jacket. “May I?”
The shorter boy could only nod and he allowed T.J. to pin the flower on him. He hoped T.J. couldn’t see how red his face was.
The athlete was acting like they were actually going as dates. He even insisted on picking Cyrus up because his mom had offered to drive them.
After allowing his parents (all four of them) to take photos of him and T.J., they got into Mrs. Kippen’s car and soon, they were on their way to their first Homecoming Dance.
Andi and Buffy couldn’t stop grinning at Cyrus when he arrived with his… stag partner. While T.J. chatted with Marty and Jonah, the girls pulled Cyrus aside.
“You have matching ties and corsages,” Andi whispered.
“And he picked you up,” Buffy added.
Cyrus blushed. “The ties are a mere coincidence, the corsages came in pairs, and his mom offered and I didn’t want to be rude!”
No matter what he said, the girls continued to tease and flash him knowing looks throughout the dance.
T.J. was a good stag partner. He brought Cyrus punch and food and stood with him in the corner to watch everyone else dance. A few girls came up to ask him to dance but, for some reason, he declined them all.
“Sorry, ladies, but I’m with Goodman tonight,” he would say. “We’re stag partners.”
The girls would then walk away, disappointed. Cyrus felt a little bad for them (just a little).
“You know, you can go dance with them, if you want,” he finally said after the fifth girl had approached them.
T.J. shrugged. “I’m good.” He smiled at Cyrus. “I’m here with you.”
“T.J., you don’t have to share in my loneliness, I’ll be fine.”
“And I’m fine sharing in your loneliness.” He nudged Cyrus’ shoulder with his. “Why? Am I boring?” He pouted.
It made Cyrus want to touch his face and smoosh his cheeks. Instead, he looked away to stare at everyone else on the dance floor.
“You know, I’m surprised that you didn’t ask anyone,” he said, casually. “I mean, you’re popular and really good looking. Anyone would say ‘yes’ if you asked.”
For a beat or two, T.J. was quiet. And, then, in a soft voice, he asked, “Really?”
Cyrus turned his head to smile at him. “Yeah.”
T.J. visibly swallowed before saying, “Then… is it too late to ask you to… be my date tonight?”
Caught off-guard by the question, the breath caught in Cyrus’ throat. He could only stare, wide-eyed, at his suddenly nervous friend in front of him.
T.J. wrung his hands in front of him. “I know you think that I have all this boundless confidence but when it comes to you… I kind of lose all that.” He swallowed again and looked down at his feet. “When you told me you didn’t have a date, I thought I could do it… but I chickened out. But, you agreed to go stag with me and I figured it was better than not going with you at all. And… um… sorry…”
Cyrus continued to stare at him as the words sunk in.
T.J. had wanted to go with him. T.J. had wanted to ask him. He did all those things – the matching ties, corsages, and picking him up – not because he was alone and couldn’t get a date.
He wanted Cyrus to be his date.
“Um… I should… uh…”
“Yes,” Cyrus blurted out.
It made T.J. pause. “Sorry?”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Cyrus took a deep, calming breath. “Yes,” he said loudly and clearly and with as much confidence as he could muster. “I’d love to be your date, T.J.”
The jock’s eyes widened in shock. “Really?”
His voice was full of doubt.
Cyrus didn’t want T.J. to think that he only said “yes” because he felt bad for him. He had wanted to be T.J.’s date. He had been waiting to be asked. Well, like his step-father always said, better late than never.
Reaching for the taller boy’s hand, Cyrus linked their fingers together. “Dance with me?” he asked, shyly.
T.J. broke into a grin and nodded. He allowed Cyrus to pull him into the dance floor, just as the song changed from a fast-paced pop song to a slower ballad.
Cyrus placed one hand on T.J.’s shoulder and raised their already linked hands together. T.J. appeared to hesitate before settling his free hand on Cyrus’ waist. Then, they began to sway.
Gazing at each other, Cyrus felt light on his feet. He welcomed the fluttering in his stomach and the fast beating of his heart.
Even under the dimmed lights, he could clearly see how handsome T.J. looked.
Cyrus liked him so much.
“I like you, Cyrus,” T.J. suddenly said.
Feeling himself smile, Cyrus tilted his head to the side. “Yeah? Well, I like you, too. A lot.”
He stepped closer to T.J. and laid his head against his shoulder. T.J. pulled him closer.
They danced until the music ended and, even then, they didn’t let go.
409 notes · View notes
samingtonwilson · 6 years
Text
New Balance: (1) Sleep Aide
new balance masterlist
Summary: Boxing AU. Bucky Barnes, once someone sunlight dulled in comparison to, is angry. At himself, at his metal arm, at the US Army, at the National Boxing Association, at the universe. Boxing cools that down a little but you provide him with balance, with the silence to his violence. And he’s your salvage.
Pairing: bucky x reader
Warnings: language, talk about marijuana (is that a warning?)
A/N: in the first few parts, things are partially inspired by creed. but only in the first few parts. idk i hope this is good lol, the reading character is one of my fav that i’ve ever written. gif below is not mine
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He didn’t think moving a few boxes up a couple of flights of stairs would render his flesh arm sore— he didn’t think soreness was even a possibility for the appendage anymore unless under extreme circumstances.
But as Bucky stood in the middle of his new shared living room, stacks of cardboard boxes labelled “Books” and “Shit to be THROWN OUT” staring right back at him, he took a deep breath and flexed his fingers— flesh and metal alike.
The apartment looked much smaller in person than it did when Steve gave him the grand FaceTime tour just two weeks before. Walls were bluer, furniture was more worn out, the view was shittier. So much so that he wasn’t sure if he’d just romanticized the idea of leaving Silicon Valley to a point that his memory embellished the Downtown Los Angeles apartment into some sort of nirvana rather than the thinly-walled loft it really was.
It wasn’t as if it was a bad place to live—at least that’s what he told himself in order to justify the rent he’d be paying half of. Smells from the Middle Eastern restaurant only a few floors below wafted up a bit too much and the laundry room didn’t have the front-loading machines he was used to, but he wasn’t living on Skid Row and Steve agreed to cover him when finances went south— he convinced himself that constituted a win.
A clock bolted onto the wall a few feet from the door read half-past three in the morning, the bright neon green numbers burning his tired eyes, which he rubbed with tired fingers, which he then dragged down tired legs. He didn’t think there was a cell in his body that wasn’t exhausted, purple undertones beneath his lower lashline and unhealed bruises splotched over his left ribs a clear indication of that, yet peaceful sleep evaded him.
He’d given up after two hours of conscious tossing and turning, and two hours of restless, sweaty sleep marred with nightmarish flashbacks of desert sand, splattering blood, and terrified civilians allowed to wear the facial expression he was required to suppress.
It didn’t help that the music from the apartment below his made the floors practically vibrate, a heavy stench of marijuana flowing in through the vents. It’s what pulled him from his bedroom in the first place and the sudden switch in song reminded him as such, breaking his focus from the ache that had long ago settled in his bones and the numerous boxes containing what remained of his possessions.
Now Bucky Barnes had never been any sort of a square, he liked a good joint and a song he could shut his eyes and drown out his thoughts to as much as the next person— but it was a Tuesday night or Wednesday morning, his arm was sore, his ribs still pulsated subtly, and he had to begin his search for a decent back-up gym in just four hours. It may have been his mind that partially kept him from sleeping, but he would be damned if he blamed himself entirely for yet another thing.
He shut the door softly behind him and started down the stairs, the sound of metal digits against the wooden railing drowned out by the continuing beats. He shook his head to himself, muttering, “Gonna kick this guy’s ass.”
He began pounding on the door the sound and smoke came from, flesh fist battering the splintering barrier relentlessly until the soreness became too much. He set his hands on either side of the doorframe, his head bowed so growing chocolate brown hair fell into his field of vision and his back was relaxingly curved.
He resorted to kicking the door then, the heel and ball of his foot rapping against the chipped paint three times before he stood up straight and lifted his palm with the intention of continuing the assault.
The music clicked off the instant the door was thrown open. And Bucky found himself staring.
Eyebrows knit together in frustration, lined eyes half-lidded from the smoke he could see ribbons of in his peripheral vision, and lips chewed raw, you stood with your paint-stained left hand still wrapped firmly around the doorknob and your right hand clutching an angle brush. You tilted your head expectantly.
He cleared his throat, gaze downcast to regroup focus only to follow the length of your bare legs peeking out from under a faded denim button-up shirt. He shook his head then and met your dilated eyes once more. “I’m Bucky. James, but everyone calls me Bucky.”
You narrowed your eyes further. “Okay?”
He wondered if his lips were smiling or if they’d fallen in a frown. “I just— I just moved in upstairs. 5-D.”
“With Mr. Rogers?”
“‘Mr. Rogers’?” he asked as he found his own head tilting.
“Yeah. You know, like the old guy that used to be on PBS. Wore shawl collar cardigans and ties, had the little trains.”
He nodded after a moment, chuckling. He leant his shoulder against the wall beside him. “Right, Mr. Rogers. S’a dig at Steve’s behavior, I get it.”
You let go of the doorknob and crossed your arms over your chest, frowning when he neglected to speak for a few beats. “Okay, did you need something, Bucky? It’s almost four.”
“Your, uh, your music— it’s shaking my floors and the smoke’s comin’ through the vents.”
Your frown grew deeper. “Right. I didn’t think it was that loud.”
“It is. And I’ve gotta wake up in three hours, gotta find a decent fuckin’ gym around here.”
“It’s indica.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“The smoke. It’s from indica. Should help you fall asleep.”
“Not when your music’s making my brain rattle ‘round my skull.”
A corner of your lips quirked up in a momentary, miniscule smile.
“So could you turn it down? I gotta—”
“Be up in three hours and find a gym,” you finished, detangling your arms and taking hold of the doorknob once more. “Heard you the first time. Wouldn’t wanna impede on your ability to keep that body tight.”
There was a bit of taunting in your voice, a slight challenge in the arch of your brow, but only annoyance in your frown. You looked right back at him as he continued to stand in your doorway. “I’ll turn it down, you won’t hear a thing.”
“Tha—” the door slammed shut and the deadbolt immediately clicked into place, he frowned, “ —nks.”
He was only five steps up the flight when the music resumed at the same volume, shaking the railing ever so slightly as he laughed through his nose despite himself.
After rummaging through the large box labeled “Sleep aides” and pulling a container of earplugs from the collection of useless junk, he managed to sleep for the remaining two and a half hours fairly well. The scientific and egotistical parts of him didn’t want to attribute that to his deep inhalations of the smoke you’d described to him but the unreasonable, humanistic side could find no other reason.
He brushed his teeth quickly and quietly, wiping his moist, minty lips on a rough white hand towel he’d snagged from some crappy hotel in Mexico about thirty-six hours prior.
He knew it was useless to bundle-up entirely for his run, the weather of Southern California never imposing the burden of fleece-lined running pants or woolen beanies, so he wore a pair of black Nike shorts and a matching fitted hoodie. Shoes snuggly tied, he emerged from his bedroom to find the scent in the air an odd mixture of stale indica smoke, fresh coffee, and shawarma.
Steve, in all his tall and blonde glory, stood at the kitchen island spreading a pat of butter over toast. A mug of what Bucky assumed to be coffee sat atop an open manila file that Steve was intently studying the pages of, his forehead creased before he even managed to change into his work clothes.
Though he wasn’t one for speaking just moments after he’d awoken, Bucky cleared his throat and gruffly greeted, “‘Morning.”
Steve looked up from the page he was scrutinizing and offered his new roommate a gentle smile— a smile that was once filled with sympathy and pity now saturated with an abhorrent admiration. “Good morning, Buck. You sleep well?”
“Do I look like I slept well, Stevie?”
His pink lips fell into a frown. “Nightmares?”
Bucky half-shrugged. “I think one of the neighbors might be runnin’ a nightclub out of their apartment.”
“Ah, I probably should’ve warned you about that.” He took a long sip of his coffee and turned around to put the carton of milk back into the stainless steel fridge. “Y/N’s a little loud sometimes.”
“Y/N?” Bucky repeated, plugging white earbuds into his phone.
He nodded as he took a bite of his toast. “Cute girl, lives right below us. Artist— did that mural for the burger place down the street.”
Bucky frowned in consideration.
“Says she works better with louder music. Got on my nerves at first,” Steve continued with a fond chuckle. “But she grows on you. Always has a good stock of apology pot, too.”
“Apology pot?”
He nodded with a smile. “S’what she calls it.”
“Cute,” Bucky snorted. “She could just try turning her music down.”
“I won’t question the creative processes of an artist that good.”
“She ain’t Van Gogh. You won’t be changing the course of art history by asking her to lower that shit.”
Steve frowned. He knew the way Bucky had been since being back. A little short with everyone, a bit more irritable.
The latent anger at himself, at his missing arm, at the US Army, at the universe had eased up after getting the prosthetic and going through rehabilitation. It was mostly at bay during his time back at the state school in San Jose, too, and it was only when he entered the working force as a low-level programmer in a pretentious, highly competitive area that it all returned. He’d discovered soon enough that boxing helped— it gave him an outlet.
It was when the anger and pressure heightened to incomprehensible levels that he realized he’d need to be boxing twenty-four hours a day just to be half the person he once was. So he began self-training more, spending every hour that he wasn’t working or struggling to sleep in a shitty gym in East Palo Alto.
Eventually that turned into fighting underground, the murky regulations and rules of the National Boxing Association regarding prosthetics in professional boxing keeping any trainer worth their salt from working with him just as they kept away any opponent worth even spitting in the vague direction of. While that should’ve shifted off with the lawsuit a leg amputee had won, change was a slow process and Bucky needed his release to bring him some benefit extrinsically— in other words, he wanted to make some money off his skill.
The yellowing bruises he would frequently sport after fights in numerous shady clubs across North and Central America had his bosses questioning his extracurriculars and, tired of the relentless interrogations, Bucky left the tech job and moved to Los Angeles to be with his childhood best friend.
The childhood best friend who promised to speak to the gym a friend of his owned, coax them into training Bucky while the National Boxing Association inevitably redrafted their terribly unclear and, quite frankly, discriminatory rules. The childhood best friend who said there was no need for Bucky to go foraging for a back-up gym with  buzz words like that. The childhood best friend who went through school, break-ups, and war with Bucky only to emerge still confident and almost encouragingly optimistic. Almost.
Bucky paused at your door as he raced down the stairs to begin his six-mile run, shaking his head to himself when the impulsive side of him had the temptation to blast his own music as you presumably attempted to sleep.
Just as he began to turn away, however, your door flew open. And he found himself staring again.
Eyes lined with an additional wing on your inner corner, outfit dark and put-together, and lips chewed raw, you stood at the doorway to sling a burlap bag onto your shoulder and push a large colorful canvas into the hall.
You slid a pair of round eyeglasses into place and looked up from the keys in your hand to tilt your head, sighing heavily. “I’m not playing music right now so you’ll need another excuse for standing here with that face.”
“What face?” he asked before he could help himself.
You picked up the canvas and tucked it under your arm, the lower border hitting above your ankle. “The red face of anger.”
“‘M not angry.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He followed you down the stairs, staying a pace behind and catching the smell of roses and turpentine. “You don’t sleep or somethin’?”
You glanced over your shoulder and he thought he might have imagined your eyes flitting to the metal hand he held his phone in. You shrugged as you faced forward again. “You never know. Last night might be atypical.”
“Heard you’re an artist.”
You sent him a small smile. “You asking people about me?”
He snorted in an unconvincingly incredulous way. “Steve said something about it.”
“After you asked him?”
“No.”
“Yeah? Believable,” you said dryly, pushing the lobby door open with your shoulder. “I catch you lurking outside my door again, I’ll blast the music even louder.”
He smirked, tucking an earbud into his right ear once he’d pulled his hood up. “That a threat, sweetheart?”
You spun around, walking backwards down the sidewalk in the direction opposite him. You raised a single eyebrow. “Yeah, baby, I thought that was obvious.”
PART 2: MUSEUM OF DEATH
teeny tiny tag list (if you want to be added, send an ASK) strikethrough means your tag doesn’t work: @sighodinson @sebstancial @dreamingofonceuponatime @eufeme @captain-what-is-going-on @little-miss-headphones @writingcroissant @desertrose-saku @lilypalmer1987 @addictionmarvel @fancybasementpersona  @winterdoe @closerstars @donnatroy-writes @violentlybarnes @buckylovelybarnes @curiositywillbethedeathofme @demonsandfaries-blog-blog
307 notes · View notes
pickalilywrites · 6 years
Note
For a Christmas prompt, how about a canonverse fic about 104th secret santa? It going wrong at some point is a bonus
I kept thinking about the Secret Santa ep from The Office lol (no yankee swap here though!)
Secret Santa
104th Trainee Squad. Canonverse.
4268 words.
Ymir and Christa slip through the doors of the girls’ cabin, packages tucked under their arms. Christa looks apologetic for their late entry, but Ymir strides in breezily as if everyone else were merely early.
“Are we the last ones?” Ymir asks, taking a seat next to Connie. She scoots in far too closely, squishing him just enough to make space for Christa. “Sit next to me, Christa!”
“Sorry,” Christa says. She places her package in the pile that everyone is huddled around. As expected, it’s neatly wrapped, and she’s even tied ribbon around it and put a little bow on top. “I had to help Ymir wrap her present.”
“Yeah, Ymir did a great job with wrapping,” Connie snickers when Ymir tosses her crinkled package into the pile. It’s lumpy and seems as though Ymir took any spare paper she saw lying around and rolled her present into it. Even the butcher does a better job at packaging his customer’s meat.
“Oy, what was that, Baldy?” Ymir says, reaching over to pinch Connie’s cheek. She lets go when he begs her to stop, but grins when she sees a little red patch bloom on his face where her fingers once were. “Christa said I did an excellent job, so I don’t see what’s so bad about it!”
Armin clears his throat. “Er, can we try to lower our voices a little?” His eyes flicker towards the door nervously. “I really don’t want Shadis to wake up and find us here. We’ll be in big trouble…”
“You worry way too much, Armin,” Sasha says, wrinkling her nose at him. “It’s Christmas! Shadis wouldn’t be so heartless as to punish us for having a little holiday spirit!”
“Is that why we’re sneaking around giving each other presents in the dark?” Annie says. Nobody had really expected her to show up, but here she is sitting next to Bertholdt and Reiner. Even now she looks as if she’d rather be somewhere else, but perhaps she wanted to receive a gift too.
“The risk of exchanging gifts in the dark is what makes this fun!” Reiner laughs, patting Annie a little too hard on the back. The loudness of his voice makes Armin glance nervously once more at the door.
“We should probably just get started now,” Marco says. He reaches for a present in the circle and reads the label. “This one is to…Hannah.”
Hannah’s eyes light up with surprise. “Oh,” she says as the gift is passed around until it falls into her hands. She unwraps the small gift to reveal a jewelry box that, once opened, contained a simple copper necklace. A crescent moon charm hung at the end of it. “Oh, this is so beautiful! Thank you so much!”
Mikasa smiles from across the circle and gives a small wave of a hand. “That was from me.”
If Hannah hears, she doesn’t show any sign of it because she’s too busy blushing and giggling as Franz comments on how nicely the new necklace will look on her.
“It’s perfectly suited for you,” Franz says, smiling as widely as his girlfriend. “They bring out those little golden flecks in your eyes.”
“Those two are hopeless,” Ymir mutters. She snaps her fingers at Marco. “Hey, hurry up and pick the next one, Marco. The rest of us are still waiting for our gifts.”
“Er, okay,” he mumbles, hurriedly picking up the next gift. The wrapping paper is crinkled and it was too lumpy to be something in a box, but at least it looked as if the giver made some effort in making the present look presentable because it has a bow stuck to the top of it. “Reiner?”
“Toss it over,” Reiner says, waving his hand. He catches it easily but raises his eyebrows when it meets his hands. “A little heavier than I expected…and it’s…a rock?”
There’s silence for a moment before Annie says, “You’re welcome.” She doesn’t look the least bit sorry for giving him a rock as a present. She just looks bored like she always does, her chin resting on her hand like she’s listening to another tedious lecture in class.
Nobody’s quite sure how to recover from this and Armin’s about to suggest they just move on, but Reiner lets out a loud roar of laughter and throws an arm around Annie. “I bet you spent quite some time picking this out for me, didn’t you? I’m truly thankful, Annie!”
“If you kiss me, I’ll use your present to bash your face in,” she tells him right as he’s leaning his face in. It’s a harsh threat, but she’s being a lot nicer than she usually is. Perhaps this is her way of showing her holiday spirit?
“Next one, next one!” Sasha sings, already over the drama and eager for her own gift.
“Alright.” Marco plucks another gift. It’s larger than the other two and carefully wrapped. It was so nicely wrapped up that most of them would have assumed it was from Christa if they hadn’t seen her bring in her present earlier. “This one goes to…Connie!”
Connie rubs his hands together as the gift makes its way to him. “This looks like it’s going to be good,” he says, eagerly tearing apart the paper and lifting the lid. A chocolate cake sat inside, its sweet aroma began to fill the room. “Oh shit, this looks good!”
“Right?” Sasha’s practically drooling as she peers into the box as well. “I stole it from the kitchens earlier. It was supposed to be for Shadis, I think. We should definitely eat it right now, so we don’t get caught.”
“You stole that? And it’s supposed to be for Shadis?” Armin repeats. His eyes are open so wide they look as though they’re all about to fall out of his head.
“Easy, buddy,” Eren says, patting Armin on the back to calm his friend down. “Sasha’s stolen food from there before without getting caught. But, ah, Sasha, don’t you think you should just let Connie eat it? It’s his gift after all.”
She’s not listening because she’s muttering about how to divide the cake, making small motions with her hands to help her visualize how to cut each piece.
“It’s fine,” Connie laughs, pushing the cake towards Sasha so she can cut it for everyone. “I don’t mind sharing with everyone. I could never eat the whole thing by myself and it’s Christmas anyway.”
“Connie, Connie, Connie,” Sasha sighs, still staring at the cake. “You have a bigger heart than I ever will.”
“This one’s for Mikasa,” Jean says suddenly, standing up and walking across the circle to give Mikasa her gift. He’s getting impatient sitting there and not having Mikasa’s present picked. “It’s from me, by the way.”
“Oh,” Mikasa says, gingerly taking the package from him. It’s flat and rectangular. Clearly some care was taken in wrapping it, but Jean was not as adept at it as Sasha and Christ and the gift looked like it had more tape on it than wrapping paper. “Thanks, Jean.”
“Hey, hey, you can’t do that!” Eren says as Jean walks back to his seat and sits down. He shakes a finger angrily at the trainee sitting across from him. “You can’t just tell Mikasa that you’re her secret Santa! That just defeats the purpose of the whole secret part of it!”
“Everyone else told the receiver who their secret Santa was,” Jean points out. “I just told Mikasa before instead of after. Besides, whoever gets Christa’s and Ymir’s gifts are going to know who it is without anyone saying a thing. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“That’s not…Still,” Eren splutters, but he knows Jean’s right. He turns to Armin in the hopes that his friend can save him. “Armin, tell him!”
Armin’s already fed up on dealing with the two on a daily basis and just sighs. “Eren, it’s fine. Mikasa doesn’t care.”
Mikasa’s already opened her present and is inspecting it now. It’s difficult to tell how she feels about it. She just stares at it for a while, narrowing her eyes a bit, before tracing a finger down the lines on the portrait she received. It’s not until Jean speaks that Armin realizes that Mikasa’s not even touching the picture, just keeping her finger a hair’s width away from the drawing.
“You can touch it,” Jean tells her. “The ink’s dry already so it won’t smear or anything.”
Connie’s leaning over Armin’s lap to get a good look at the picture and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Jean, you’ve got a talent for art. That looks exactly like Mikasa!”
It’s one of the only times Armin’s ever seen Mikasa blush, but the rosy red looks cute on her as she stammers a thank you to Jean.
“Do mine next,” Ymir says. She doesn’t even wait for Marco to pick it up, she just grabs it and tosses it across the circle. “It’s yours, Eren!”
“Uh, thanks,” Eren says, not sure if he should even pretend to be thankful since Ymir clearly put little to no effort in wrapping the present. It’s apparent she didn’t put any effort in the gift as well because he unfolds the bundle wrapped inside to find that it’s one of Ymir’s old shirts. “This is…great.”
“Right?” Ymir says. She doesn’t seem to notice Eren’s unenthusiastic tone. “That was one of my favorite shirts.”
Connie and Sasha are starting to giggle uncontrollably. “Did you just…forget and take an old shirt and wrap paper around it?” Connie laughed.
“Hey, that’s a perfectly good shirt!” Ymir says, reaching out to pinch Connie again but he leans away before her fingers can catch him.
“Perfectly good, huh?” Eren says glumly. He sticks a hand through a gaping hole in the shirt but immediately regrets it once he sees that Ymir hadn’t even bothered to wash out the sweat stains.
At least Christa looks sorry. “I’ll buy you a different gift the next time we get to go to town,” Christa tells him, but he shakes his head.
“That’s alright,” Eren says. “I’ll just use this as a…rag…or something.”
Before Ymir can open her mouth and complain about how rude Eren’s being about the gift she spent so much time picking out for him, Armin quickly picks up another gift and calls out the name written on it. “Thomas?”
“Hope it’s good,” Thomas says, grinning wildly. Unlike everyone who went before him, Thomas takes his time unwrapping his gift, making sure not to tear the paper.
“Open it already,” Sasha whines. It’s only been a few seconds but she’s impatient already. “Just tear the paper! Get wild!”
“If tearing paper is your idea of a good time, I’m sure you’re easily entertained,” Mikasa says, amused.
Thomas laughs but takes his time unwrapping the rest of his gift. It’s a small enough package that it doesn’t take that much longer, and he pulls out a belt from the box. It’s thin and black and seems to be made of imitation leather because Sina knows nobody in the trainee corps has enough money to buy something out of real leather.
“Nice! I’ve been needing a new belt. This is great!” Thomas says, admiring its texture between his fingers.
“Glad you like it,” Marco says, beaming.
“Next one, next one!” Connie and Sasha chorus together. The two are eating the cake, forgetting that they had initially proposed to eat it with everyone else at first. Not that anyone minds. They’ve already dug their fingers into it because Sasha hadn’t bothered to more than one fork.
Marco gingerly picks up a piece of paper that’s slightly crumpled. It has something written on it that’s been crossed out and rewritten a couple of times. “This one’s for Mina.”
Mina looks just as confused as he does when he hands her the piece of paper. Squinting to read the writing scrawled on the paper in the dim candlelight she reads, “Certificate for Pranks. Good for ten.” She looks around to thank the giver. “Um. Thank you so much! This sounds…fun.”
Connie puffs out his chest. “No problem! You ever want a prank, just come find me any time!”
“Hey, is this certificate for pulling pranks on other people, or is it for Mina getting pranks?” Armin asks.
“For pulling pranks on people, duh,” Connie says, rolling his eyes. “Why would Mina want me to prank her?”
“It’s just that the wording on it isn’t that clear,” Armin says.
Connie frowns and squints at the paper Mina holds in her hands. “I knew I should have used an eraser,” he mutters.
“I don’t think that’s what he meant, genius,” Ymir snickers.
The two bicker and Armin hates himself for instigating the argument. It only makes it more likely that they’ll all get caught.
Christa claps her hands together to capture everyone’s attention. “Hey, let’s not fight on Christmas, okay?” Her smile is enough to captivate everyone in the room. She laughs when Ymir hugs her and pats her inseparable partner on the head. “Why don’t you pick your own gift, Marco? You’ve given everyone theirs, so treat yourself.”
Marco looks surprised. “Oh, uh, sure.” He picks his plainly wrapped rectangular package. When he tears off the paper to reveal a book. A thick one at that. “Ah, Armin, this is the one you’ve been telling me about, right?”
Armin perks up, excited to be able to talk about one of his favorite novels with a friend. “Yeah! You sounded interested in it when I was telling you about it, so I thought you’d like it if you read it yourself.”
“Ah.” Christa sounds surprised and slightly worried. “You’ve already read that book, Armin?”
“Huh? Oh yeah. Marco was asking me for book recommendations the other day and we talked about this one. I was really lucky to find it in good condition in this bookstore I visited the last time we went to town,” Armin says happily.
“Can’t wait to get started on it!” Marco says, giving Armin a smile. “Thanks a bunch, Armin.”
“Pick the little box next, Marco,” Mina tells him, pointing to one that had fallen from the rest of the stack. “Looks like it could be something cute!”
Marco stoops down to pick up the little gift and squints to read the little label. “This one’s for Annie.”
Annie just sighs deeply in response and holds out her hand for Marco to drop the package in. She’s the exact opposite of Thomas. She rips off all the wrapping in one movement, discarding it behind her, and opens the box. Whatever is inside doesn’t impress her at all.
Hannah leans over to try and catch a glimpse. “Oh, earrings!” she exclaims, eyes lit up. “They’re very cute.”
Annie probably doesn’t think so because she continues to stare at the box in front of her, expressionless.
“I thought the earrings would look good on you,” Thomas says, a nervous smile on his face as he tries to gauge Annie’s reaction.
Mina whispers something into his ear and his eyes widen before flickering over to Annie’s ears. They aren’t pierced.
Annie closes the box. She doesn’t look angry, but she doesn’t look happy either. “Can I leave now?”
“Aw, don’t go, Annie,” Reiner says, slapping her on the back. He’s laughing heartily to lighten up the mood, but also because he finds the entire situation amusing. “I’m sure you could use them for something else. Pins, maybe, or a tiny little brooch.”
Eren speaks up as well. “Just stay a little while longer, Annie! We only have a few more gifts to open up and it won’t be as fun if you’re not here.”
Annie’s about to open her mouth but before she can say whether she’s leaving or staying Connie and Sasha begin to chant, “Stay, Annie, stay!” Before long most of the other trainees are chanting this as well.
“I’m staying, I’m staying!” Annie shouts. It’s probably the loudest she’s ever spoken, and it surprises a lot of them into shutting up. “I’m staying just…shut up. Please.”
There’s a pause before Marco clears his throat and picks up another gift from the pile. “I’ll just…continue then.” It’s the package that Christa had brought in earlier and it’s definitely the prettiest of the bunch. “Armin?”
“Armin, I’m just telling you now that I’m very, very sorry,” Christa says. She sounds miserable, watching with worry as Armin unwraps his gift.
“Oh!” Armin says in surprise. It’s the very same book that he bought for Marco. He realizes why Christa had seemed so concerned before. “It’s this book!”
“I’m so sorry,” Christa says, her lower lip wobbling. “I really didn’t know you read it already. I can see if the bookstore will let me exchange it for another one if you want.”
“No, no, this is fine!” Armin says hurriedly. He wouldn’t mind a new book, but Ymir’s shooting daggers at him with her eyes and he’d rather not face her wrath. “I can always reread it. It’s been a while anyway.”
“Yeah, and it’d be fun to talk about it together,” Marco pitches in, much to Armin’s relief. “Something like a book club, right?”
“Boring, boring,” Ymir yawns. She waves at Marco. “Hurry up, Marco.”
Marco’s already picking up the next gift, the last small package of the bunch. “This one’s for Christa.”
Christa manages to catch it. “Thank you to whoever gave this to me,” she says before she even starts opening it, giving everyone a small.
“Damn, she’s cute,” Reiner mutters under his breath.
He’s not quiet enough though because Ymir shoots him a quick glare before looking back to give Christa her adoring gaze.
When Christa finally opens the jewelry box inside, she gasps. “This is beautiful,” she breathes, wide-eyed. She lifts the ring out of the box and it’s studded with small jewels, probably all fake but they all sparkle from the candle lights. “Oh, thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome!” Eren says. He’s feeling very smug right now after seeing how much Christa likes her present. Except everyone’s giving him weird stares for some reason. “What?”
“You bought her a ring?” Mikasa says incredulously.
Connie and Sasha are whispering amongst themselves and the other trainees are trying to understand how someone like Eren could think about giving a girl like Christa a ring. Had the oblivious Eren finally grown up while they weren’t looking?
“What?” He doesn’t know why everyone looks so surprised. “I just thought it looked nice and that Christa would like it.”
Ymir narrows her eyes at him. “Better not be hitting on my girl, Jaeger,” she growls, putting a protective arm around Christa and holds her tightly.
He begins to splutter that he would never do such a thing, that he’s not quite sure what the big deal is since it’s just a ring after all, while Christa giggles.
“Idiot,” Annie mutters as she plays with the string of her hoodie. She shakes her bangs away from her eyes. “Can we move on?”
They are down to the last few gifts now.
“Franz, this one’s yours,” Marco says, handing his comrade a package.
“Ooh, wonder what’s inside?” Connie says.
“Er, you probably shouldn’t open it here,” Hannah mumbles, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “I thought this was just going to be a gift exchange.” Her eyes are cast downward, and her face is growing redder by the second.
Franz doesn’t seem to understand what it is and a lot of other trainees are still puzzled as to why Hannah’s being so shy, but Ymir cackles and shouts, “Looks like someone’s getting laid tonight!”
Her exclamation is followed by a hearty cheer from Reiner.
Hannah looks as though she wishes the floor would open up and swallow her, and Franz is babbling, trying to get her to stop covering her face.
“Um, maybe we should get to the next one,” Christa says. Even she’s blushing despite not being involved. She picks up a present and reads the writing on it. “Bertholdt!”
“Here!” Bertholdt holds out a hand, eager to get to move onto something else that’s not…Franz and Hannah. He has a little difficulty unwrapping the gift, but he manages to open in after making a couple of tears and eventually pulls out a bottle of cologne.
“It’s cologne!” Riener says, puffing his chest out proudly as if this were a contest and he had bought the best present out of the other trainees. “You’re a real man now, Bertholdt. It’s time you begin to look after yourself, especially if you want to –“
“Thanks, Reiner,” Bertholdt says without waiting for Reiner to finish. For some reason his ears are turning red and he’s looking nervously at Annie. “I’ll be sure to use it.”
Reiner elbows Annie, waggling his eyebrows and grinning widely, but she merely leans away from him and glares.
Marco turns the next package in his hands, trying to locate the label. “This one’s for you, Jean.” It’s not wrapped. It’s just a tin box with a little ribbon stuck to the top of it.
“Ah, that’s from me,” Franz says as Jean’s opening the lid. It appears he’s over his previous embarrassment although Hannah is still looking away from everyone and twirling her ponytail between her fingers to keep busy.
A few paintbrushes and a couple of paints lay in the small rectangular box. They look a little worn, the paintbrushes still have paint stains on them and the paints have clearly been used, but Jean does look genuinely impressed with the gift.
“Pretty good,” he says, putting the cover on the box. “I’ve never painted, but this is a chance to see what it’s like. Thanks, Franz.”
“Marco,” Sasha sings, swaying from side to side. She raises her hand and waves it around like a flag. “Pick mine next! I’ve been waiting forever!”
“Well, if no one has any objections…” Marco looks around to see if anyone would rather he pick at random, but everyone is either admiring their gifts, looking somewhat miserable, or just doesn’t care. “Alright, Sasha. This one’s yours.”
“Gimme, gimme!” Sasha holds the rectangular package eagerly in her hands, taking a second to admire the little ribbon tied around the tin, and opens the box. Sasha’s eyes are nearly as wide and round as the white and red striped candy that she holds up. “These are so pretty! I don’t think I could eat anything this nice-looking!”
“I’ll do it,” Connie says, plucking out a sweet from the box and popping it into his mouth. He shudders with pleasure at the sweet taste of it. “Delicious!”
Bertholdt looks surprisingly upset. “Th-that was for Sasha, Connie,” he stutters. “I don’t think you should eat it.”
“It’s fine,” Connie says. He’s shoveled a few more in his mouth. The dye from the candy begins to coat his tongue, making it appear a lot redder than usual. “We do this all the time.”
Sasha’s now shoveling candy in her mouth as well, the beauty of the candy forgotten. “Bet I can stuff more in my mouth than you,” she says, mouth full of candy.
“…and moving on to the last one,” Marco says, holding out the very last package. “It’s for-“
“Me!” Ymir snatches the gift from his hand without allowing him to finish his sentence, tearing apart the wrapping paper eagerly. When she’s done, she raises up a brush, studying it with a curious face.
“It’s a brush,” Mina says, fidgeting in her seat. “For your hair.”
Ymir pauses for a minute. Her hair is usually unkempt because she doesn’t have a brush (although Christa does offer to lend Ymir hers, an offer Ymir always refuses), but she doesn’t seem to care about it since she always pulls it into a ponytail anyway. Suddenly her face lights up and she looks at Christa. “Ah, Christa! Imagine how nice it’ll be for me to brush your hair so lovingly with this!”
“You could always just brush it with my brush and save this for yourself,” Christa says, laughing.
“I don’t need to brush it,” Ymir says, rolling her eyes. “Let me brush yours, Christa! We can test it right now!”
Mina smiles helplessly. “Well, at least she wants to use it even if it’s not for herself.”
——
“Good Christmas, I guess,” Eren mumbles, holding his present up and frowning. Most of the boys have returned to their cabin, but Eren’s still awake. “At least Mikasa’s happy with her present anyway. You like yours, Armin?”
Armin doesn’t reply. He’s too busy looking out the window and staring at Shadis’ own cabin. The light inside of it is still on even though it’s late and nobody else seems to be awake. The only other lights outside come from the lamps that help to illuminate the trainee grounds.
“I think Shadis knew about it,” Armin says suddenly. He can just make out a faint silhouette in the window of the instructor’s cabin. “He’s still awake. He must have seen us sneak in and out. The light in the girls’ cabin too.”
Eren squints at where Armin’s pointing out the weekend. “Shit…we’re really in for it tomorrow.”
Armin shakes his head. “I don’t think so. He would have broken it up when we started if he wanted to. Maybe he’s letting it slide since it’s Christmas.”
“Huh,” Eren says, laying down in his bed. The used shirt he got from Ymir sits at the foot of his bed. “Guess Shadis does have a soul after all.”
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thetuningofviolins · 7 years
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a million dotted lines || Promptis, rating: G
@evil-rainbow-sunshine
Hey! I know it’s a little late, but I thought I’d pile on the birthday love. <3 Happy birthday, and enjoy this way-too-quickly thrown together fic!
October 19th—
“Hey, when’s your birthday, anyway?”
They’re walking side by side as they do every day, taking their time meandering between the school and the arcade, hands buried in their uniform jacket pockets against the unusual chill of the autumn afternoon. The question catches Prompto off-guard, enough so that he misses a step, shoe awkwardly catching on the pavement for a moment before he hops out of it, earning a snort from his royal companion.
“What’s this about all of a sudden?” he asks, trying for casual but missing the mark by just a hair.
“I mean, how long have we known each other?” Noctis continues, glancing over at him, “Seems like it would have come up by now.”
Prompto immediately realizes the logic, blanching a bit, but does reasonably well at hiding it. “Little over a year, huh?” (It’s not answering the core of the question; he knows he’s dodging it, but with any luck, Noct will take pity on him.)
“Ha, more like six.”
“We don’t talk about that!”
They both chuckle, for different reasons, before lapsing back into a comfortable silence. The topic seems to be closed for the time being, which makes a grateful little swell of warmth bubble up in Prompto’s chest— grinning a bit, he leans hard to the side, bumping his shoulder with Noct’s. The prince stumbles a step (always a win, as far as Prompto’s concerned), then recovers with a grin of his own, returning the bump full-force.
October 22nd—
His hand shakes, stupidly, as it hovers over the requisite school health form— where it asks for his date of birth.
It’s stupid to be so upset about this.
He’s fine.
(A short, chubby boy, clutching to a camera like a talismanic charm of courage, watching a man pulling on a jacket as he gets ready to leave the house where he so rarely appears.
“Hey— Dad?”
“I’m a little busy, Prompto—“
“The fireworks today…”
“For the prince’s birthday.”
“I know. And it was… a classmate’s birthday last week, too…”
“Prompto—“
“When is mine?”
“…”
“When—“
“…In the fall. The 25th. October.”
“I… I thought that’s when you brought me home.”
“I have to go now, Prompto. Don’t ask me any more questions.”)
Prompto puts the pen down, wiping viciously at his burning eyes. It doesn’t really matter what he puts on the form, right? Nothing’d be any more ‘truthful’ than anything else, right? Even years later, it’s only a guess.
He takes a few sharp, deep breaths to force himself to calm down. It’s marginally successful. Adjusting the sport band sharply around his right wrist, he picks the pen back up and fills out the date of birth— October 25th, M.E. 735. Good enough.
October 24th—
They’re lying across the width of Noctis’ bed, locked in ruthless battle over a racing game on the TV across from them. It’s neck-and-neck, up until the very last second— where Noctis gains a sudden edge and flies across the finish line a split second before Prompto. The prince gives a triumphant laugh, in counterpoint to Prompto’s long, wounded groan.
“How do you do that? I swear, if you’re cheating—!”
“Maybe I’m just that good,” Noctis says snottily, going so far as to turn his nose up, which makes Prompto give him a good shove with an exasperated laugh.
“Yeah, maybe you’re just cheating,” Prompto fires back, and it earns him a playful shove in return— which quickly turns into the two of them mock-wrestling. It doesn’t last terribly long, however; Noctis’ training with Gladio is clearly paying off, because he’s able to get the upper hand on Prompto and pin him down without a ton of effort.
Prompto, for his part, desperately attempts to hold back the wave of heat that wants to flood up into his face (he can’t… help it, the position is suggestive and Noct looming over him all disheveled is flustering enough to process as is and he can’t even move), but reassures himself just as desperately that he could pass it off as exertion if Noctis decides to call him on it. “All right, all right, you win!” he concedes, “You’re just that good; Noctis, Prince of Racing Games; now get off me—!”
Noctis gives a full-hearted laugh, rolling off to the side to flop down beside him instead. “Damn right,” he says with a grin, before his attention drifts over to the window. “Mm, it’s kinda late. Wanna stay here? We can just skip class tomorrow.”
“…Mm.” It’s not really an answer, but Prompto runs his hand back through his hair, a little awkwardly despite the easy half-smile on his face before he pushes on. “Probably shouldn’t…”
“Not like we don’t skip all the time anyway. Wouldn’t you rather do something fun?”
“Says the guy that gets fireworks.”
The moment of silence that follows is just long enough for Prompto to realize what he’s just said and implied; the temptation to slap a hand over his own face is huge, and his stomach sinks terribly. And here he’d been hoping to just… keep avoiding the whole birthday thing. Maybe it’s still salvageable—
Noctis, thankfully, saves him from himself, by shrugging amicably. “Whatever you wanna do. I’m game.”
October 25th—
As it turns out, classes end up cancelled for the day— due to a freak snowstorm, of all things. Prompto had decided to come home after all, and is now somewhat regretting it— while he normally spends the (stupid) day mostly on his own, it’s sort of a different beast altogether to be entirely alone, in a quiet house, on an almost eerily quiet street, the muted light coming in from his bedroom window making everything look washed out and grey. He feels oddly like time has stopped completely, freezing everything but himself in place— a lone creature moving through a world he’s entirely detached from.
Suiting.
He rolls over in his bed with a frown, clutching his left hand over the band covering his right wrist, as though it might fuse the fabric to his skin and blot out the damned thing (the thing that he doesn’t understand, that he only has the vaguest inklings of, that his parents don’t like to talk about, that he knows separates him from everyone else in some terrible way that’s being kept from him) beneath it forever. When that doesn’t work, he sits up, letting the lump that had formed in his throat sink down into a pit of ice forming in his stomach.
“Happy birthday to me,” he sings softly, an attempt at jest that falls entirely flat against his ears, “If there is such a thing. But I’m here and I’m healthy, so I might as well sing.”
The answering silence is, somehow, even less a comfort than he’d been expecting. That lump threatens to make a comeback, but he swallows it down forcefully, shaking his head.
His phone chimes cheerfully, cutting through the stillness sharply enough to make Prompto jump, his heart slamming up into his throat instead out of sheer shock. After a moment of being stunned frozen, he huffs out a low laugh, inwardly chastising himself a bit for being so overdramatic. Grabbing his phone off the bedside dresser, he peers at the notifications.
In this case, a text. From Noct.
let me in it’s cold as hell out here
Prompto blinks a few times as though expecting the words to change, but— they don’t. It’s not exactly unusual for Noct to come over, despite them spending significantly more time in Noct’s apartment, but… with the roads all blanketed in snow? He would have had to walk the whole way.
A few more seconds pass where Prompto just stares at his phone, before it buzzes in his palm again.
don’t tell me you’re not home
He lets out a tiny snort of laughter, lips half-tilting. The idea of Noctis walking the distance between his apartment and Prompto’s house, in the cold and wind, only to find an empty house— it probably shouldn’t tickle him the way it does, but he’s always loved that look on Noct’s face, that look of disbelieving chagrin when a plan of his goes awry. It’s cute. (Not… that he needs to be thinking about that, thank you.) Taking pity as he pads out of his room to the main floor, he texts back:
Coming, coming. Where else would I be? lol
Noctis doesn’t have the chance to respond again; Prompto swings the front door open, putting him face-to-face with the heavily-bundled-up crown prince of Lucis. He’s carrying a couple of plastic bags at his side, and going by the single trail of footprints leading all the way down the street— it does look like Prompto’s instinct had been right and Noct had walked here. Something nameless and terribly warm flutters in Prompto’s chest, making a little color lift into his cheeks.
“Come on in,” he ushers Noctis, stepping out of the way and motioning him in, “Can’t believe you even left your place in this; it’s freezing.”
Noctis brushes his hair out, flinging a few idle snowflakes out of it as he moves into the entryway, handing the bags off to Prompto as he pulls at the thick scarf around his neck and chin. “Least we didn’t have to actually go to the effort of skipping class,” he says with a bit of a grin, shrugging out of his overcoat and stepping out of his shoes, “Picked up a few things on the way too. Just… ‘cause.”
Prompto, ever curious, had already started rooting around in the bags. “Ah!” There’s a bottle of milk tea, one that he’d only ever found once in a shop near Noct’s apartment before they’d stopped carrying it, and he’d mourned it extensively ever since. “You remembered— where did you even find this? Oh—“ As he keeps digging, he finds a couple of packaged snacks (including one of his favorites, a sort of strawberry biscuit), and… a small box tied up with a ribbon, with a sticker of a chocobo on the corner of the top. A little, slightly confused but pleased grin lights Prompto’s lips as he plucks it out, setting the bags down on the table and turning to lean slightly on it. “What’s this?”
“I had Ignis make it for you,” Noctis says just a little too quickly, looking elsewhere and rubbing the back of his neck.
The confusion deepens a little, but not enough that Prompto’s curiosity doesn’t push him on; he unwraps the box and plucks the top off— finding a yellow-frosted cupcake inside, with a single candle (also adorned with little cartoon chocobos) sticking up out of the center of it. Prompto stares, almost utterly uncomprehending, frozen in place by the sudden slamming of his heartbeat. What exactly is going on here?
Noctis clears his throat a bit, before coming in close, lifting a hand and touching his index finger to the wick of the candle— and with a little crackle of magic, it lights, bathing their faces in dim orange glow. “…Happy birthday, Prompto.” The prince’s voice is quiet, but warm, tender, in a way Prompto rarely hears.
Prompto’s chest feels like it’s going to burst. It hurts. His eyes sting, vision blurring, despite not being able to pull his eyes from the little flame. “Wh… how…” he starts, throat closed off by that lump he’d thought he’d gotten rid of earlier, “How did you…”
Noctis chuckles a little bit, rubbing at the back of his neck again. “Got stuck running papers for the office the other day, your health form was on top.”
It’s such a stupidly simple answer, Prompto honestly can’t help the short laugh that bursts from his chest, even through the other overwhelming emotions. “S-so… so much for student privacy, huh?” is what comes out, despite a million other words rioting against his lips to escape.
“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” the prince quickly adds, a growing little note of anxiety tinging his voice now, “I just wanted to— I mean… shit. I’m sorry, if you don’t want— I just thought—“
“No!” Prompto cuts him off, finally managing to tear his eyes from the cheerfully flickering flame to look up at Noctis, framed flatteringly in candlelight, making his heart give another leap, “No, I love it, it’s— I just didn’t think— no one’s ever—“ The words spill over and across each other, tangling up in knots, until they both pause… and burst into a little laughter together. “We’re… not great at this, are we?”
“Horrible,” Noctis agrees, still shaking a bit with laughter, letting his hand drop down from his neck— to brush over Prompto’s free one. Their fingers snare instinctually, like it’s something they do every day of their lives. “… Supposed to make a wish, aren’t you?”
Prompto’s words are stolen away again, along with his breath, as their fingers lightly squeeze together. It’s not as though they’re not usually affectionate with each other, but… this… a wish? What more could he hope for right now? Still, he looks back down to the candle, eyes still a bit watery— before he smiles, broad and warm, and blows out the flame. “… Okay,” he says softly, just for something to fill the space, “Done.”
“What’d you wish for?”
“Isn’t it bad luck to say?”
“Guess so, yeah.”
It’s hard to say who makes the next move first: there’s a moment of silence, of motionlessness, before the cupcake box gets set down on the table and their fingers untangle in order to let their arms wrap fully around each other, Prompto’s around Noctis’ shoulders, Noctis’ around Prompto’s waist. Prompto’s eyes widen slightly for a moment as he feels Noctis press a kiss to the side of his head— before they half-lid dreamily. (He thinks he can feel Noct’s heart beating against his chest— or maybe it’s just his own, trying desperately to escape its ribcage to meet Noct’s halfway.)
“Seriously, though… happy birthday,” Noctis murmurs, nudging into Prompto’s hair affectionately.
Prompto squeezes around Noctis’ shoulders, pushing into his neck in response to the nudge, smiling softly. He thinks he can bear this particular day with no real burden from now on… as long as he has this. As long as he has Noctis. When he responds, it’s a barely-there whisper— but it’s enough. “… Thanks, Noct.”
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hipswithswagger · 5 years
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Bridesmaid Proposals seem to be a big deal, so I made some for my four bridesmaids and they turned out pretty good. The theme was mainly pink and gold although I included other colors from our wedding color scheme as well. The hair ties had a pop of burgundy, and the ribbon around the mini champagne were navy blue.
(When I told my future mother-in-law about bridesmaid boxes she had no idea what the heck I was talking about lol)
I found the boxes at Michael’s, the sparkly gold letters, and the scrapbook paper that I used to cover the inside of the lid. (One box is missing because I saw one of my bridesmaids earlier than expected so I gave it to her earlier than expected.)
The mess I made as I assembled them all. Pretty much everything is from Michael’s except the cute ‘I do crew’ glasses, and the mini clip boards I found at Wal-mart. I added navy blue, burgundy and red hair ties, and tied them together using some gold washi tape, then clipped them to the mini clipboards.
I used a chalk pen to write on the clip boards themselves, “To have and to hold you hair back“.
The cards I happened to find at Winner’s! Unfortunately I couldn’t find four that were all the same so I ended up with a few different designs. But I thought it made it more personal for my bridesmaids as I chose ones i thought they would like the most, and ones I thought fit their personalities.
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(I found the idea for these neat little inspiration cards on Pinterest so I take no credit.)
On the inside of the lid I put some pictures of me and each of the girls as well as inspiration cards. All pertaining to the theme and vision I have for my wedding and their day of looks.
One was for the overall theme of the wedding which listed the main and accent colors. The other was a little inspiration card for their bridesmaid dresses, accessories, and whatnot.
I’ve decided on doing mismatched dresses, but keeping them similar-ish in color. I feel it makes it feel a bit more casual, plus the girls get to pick a dress they love and suits them the best. Plus I think the mismatch has a more magical & whimsical feel.
  Thanks for reading! xox
♡ Bridesmaid Boxes ♡ Bridesmaid Proposals seem to be a big deal, so I made some for my four bridesmaids and they turned out pretty good.
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moonvalecrossing · 6 years
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Favorite and least favorite Pokémon playable characters (Main series only), rivals, professors (Again, main series only), and I guess the Stat Trainers Sinnoh (Cheryl, Mira, Riley, Marley, and Buck)?
I love you anon that randomly asks my favorite and least favorite pokemon things. I love you lots.
Favorite Playable Characters
Male: Lucas rocks that scarf and beret.
Female: Hilda. She looks the oldest of the girls and her outfit just feels the most non-girly out of the bunch. If she had pants instead of booty shorts I could see myself dressing like that.
Least Favorite Playable Characters
Male: Nate. I hate his hair. I hate his pants. I hate his hat. This boy needs gently placed in a locker somewhere.
Female: Rosa. Her hat looks like a sanitary pad tied on with a pink ribbon. Her hair looks like someone super glued two brown pillows to the side of her head with matching tassels hanging off em. And whatever she’s wearing that tries to come across as shorts are hideous.
Shout out to both BW2 protags for also wearing a body swimsuit under their clothes 24/7. Using the bathroom must be a nightmare, having to completely undress wherever you are. And they must be sweaty as all hell because I can’t imagine wet suits to be very breathable garments.
Favorite Rivals
Silver and Gladion. I will hug you both and you will let me love you. MY PRECIOUS EDGY CHILDREN.
Least Favorite Rivals
Pest BARRY. Haha why do I keep getting his name wrong... I want to throw this child off the ss anne. Always literally running into me and has the attention span of an overstimulated box of baby marmosets.
Shauna. Just stamp “I AM THE GIRL LOL” on her face. That’s what she was. The token girl in the group of friends. Because the default PC is always expected to be male. she even has crush undertones on the PC! He hair also looks about as dumb as Rosa’s.
Favorite Professors
Sycamore and Kukui. Because I am shameless and think they’re both attractive. Elm because he’s an adorable dork.
Least Favorite Professor
Oak. Just because he was the first one doesn’t make him the best one. Why on earth does near every professor seem to work so closely with this man? He forgot to pick his own package up from the mart like 10 minutes from home, he lets his grandson be a total tool (and forgets his name) and he couldn’t even be arsed to put on shoes to meet you at the intro of the game until the remakes. Bitch met the new trainers in slippers. Or what looks like socks and sandals in g/s art. FOR SHAME.
Now the stat trainers... lets see
Favorite: Cheryl and Riley. They have great designs. I love em!
Least Favorite: Mira and Marley.
Mira- WHAT IS YOUR HAIR CHILD. WHAT IS YOUR CLOTHES, CHILD? How old are you? 6? Who in their right mind let this child wander unattended? I found her in an out of the way CAVE FOR GODS SAKE.
Marley- Oh joy. Our goth lolita character. I hate these characters on principle. I hate characters that wear clothes that match their hair color. I hate goth lolita styles so much. And... she... is one of those characters... who has trouble... connecting and talking... with others so she... tends to overuse... ... ...ellipses when she talks...
These characters are almost always carrying a dull expression or are just plain emotionless and its supposed to be amazing/cute when they smile or laugh because OH MAH GOD THEY IS LEARNING HOW TO EMOTION. That’s not cute. It’s creepy as all fuck. If someone in real life were around me and acted like this I would go out of my way to avoid interaction with them. And they’re almost always having “deep/artistic” thoughts. They come across less like human beings to me and more AI put in a humanoid body. The same AI shared between sooooo many different characters. Because they’re everywhere. They’re like a plague.
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