hopefully one of the last times i need my winter hat

anonymous asked:

i read one of your sterek tumblr fics but lost it, i know there was snow and it was christmas?

hi hello anon! i’ve written a bunch of holiday and winter stuff! more than one of them have snow and christmas so here are all of them. hopefully you’ll find one or more you’ll enjoy!  ❤

tumblr fic:

ao3:

  • i waited for you like a lonely house (T, 4.5k)  Derek isn’t sure why he buys the house. He doesn’t need the space, that much is certain. While it’s not as big as the one Derek grew up in, something about the cheerful yellow paint and the wide staircase (with banisters wide enough for children to slide down) draws him in.
  • nom de plume (G, 4k)  There are no more chapters. 22 is the last one. Derek groans in despair. He has to know what happens. 
  • your presence is a present (rated G, 2k) For some reason Derek had this idea in his head of an elderly grandfatherly type who liked to tell silly jokes, read stories to kids in classrooms and let them wear his badge. Stiles is, for lack of a better word, hot. Derek can feel his mouth drop open a little bit, watching the man stride forward, warm brown eyes twinkling merrily. He’s in uniform, the green and khaki outfit looking far better than it should. Marianne is wearing his hat, laughing, her arms wrapped around his chest as Stiles carries her forward. Something new and domestic stirs within Derek’s heart. He’s never dated much, Marianne never took to anyone he’s tried introducing her to before, but it’s clear to see how much she adores Stiles.
  • my world is filled with cheer and you (T, 11k) “It was a last minute decision. Single parents with children draw attention to themselves in this type of neighborhood, and this department didn’t have a big budget to relocate all the werewolf and werewolf sympathizers that were targeted on this list. We’ve combined a lot of our relocation assignments. It ended up working out that another family, Mr. Stilinski and his son, looked like a good fit for you guys, so you’ll be sharing a home with them for the time being.” Markowski grins at him. “Congratulations! You’re married!”~In which Derek and his daughter are displaced just in time for the holidays, matched up with Stiles and his young son in a government protection program.
  • best laid plans  (T, 4k)  Derek’s got the perfect plan to propose to Stiles: a romantic stroll in gently falling snow, a string quartet, a family heirloom for an engagement ring… Wait, where’s the ring?
  • made from the heart (T, 3k) Derek has been crushing on Stiles for awhile, and thinks maybe this Christmas season he’ll tell him how he feels. He’s got a great present too, except when Stiles gives him a thoughtful handmade present, Derek is pretty much screwed.~Stiles smiles at Derek. “It was just a nice thought, you know? I just think gifts that people take their time to make are just so sweet.” “Handmade,” Derek says faintly.
  • sidequest (T, 11k)  Agent Derek Hale has been working up the courage to ask his partner Stiles out on a date (finally!) when he heads out on a solo mission—without Derek. Eager to provide support, Derek arrives in Beacon Hills, only there is no mission, and Stiles’ dad thinks Derek is Stiles’ boyfriend. Well. It could be worse.

happy holidays!  ❤ ❤ ❤

anonymous asked:

CP 14 Days of Love #12: Ladies’ Day (e.g. the haus ghosts, lardo, camilla, march, april, georgia, alicia, suzanne, etc)

Day 12 of @softkent‘s Valentine’s Day Fic-A-Thon

Alicia Carlson was staring sadly out a floor to ceiling window into the very snowy night on February 13th. And if she was also maybe sighing sadly, well no one had to know. The scene outside the Syracuse international airport was…not pretty. The flakes were quarter sized and coming down fast, they had been all day. Her plane, and really every plane, had been grounded indefinitely. She wasn’t going to make her date. Alicia leaned her forehead against the cold window. She REALLY liked this guy. God knows why, but she did. He was big and lumbering and seemed kinda dumb. But then you got him alone and you realized that exactly none of those things were true.  

Oh well, nothing for it but to call him. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too disappointed.

Alicia turned to look for a payphone.

She called the hotel that she knew his team was using, asked for his room.

“Alicia! Mon cher, are you nervous about your flight?”

Alicia laughed under her breath. “No Bob, although next time I am I’ll remember to call you for a pep talk. Actually I’m calling to apologize. The snow is too bad, we’ve been told we won’t be able to take off for at least 24-48 hours, and that’s if the snow stops within the next six. I’m so sorry Bobby, you know I wanted to be there.”

Alicia heard a pause. And then, “Well that’s alright we’ll just have to reschedule. What are they doing for you tonight, is there a hotel that they’re putting you up at?”

“No, there’s one attached to the airport but it’s booked solid, they’re trying to find some place to send us but well it’s Valentines and a snowstorm, they don’t seem to be having much luck.”

“Oh well, that’s unfortunate, I know they’re doing their best though. Call me when you get to a hotel eh darling? I have to go, it’s rather urgent. We’ll find another day to make it up promise!  I’ll talk to you later Alicia!”

She barely had time to say goodbye before the line went dead. That was odd, and, and rushed. It made her stomach curl sadly. It was always hard to keep relationships going. She was constantly on the move and often times her plans changed with a moment’s notice. It wasn’t terribly conducive to gaining trust and making things last. Plus, well, she was a model. Most men, at one point or another gave in to the idea that she was too pretty and that no one could resist her so she had to be cheating. It never occurred to them that SHE might be the one able to say no. And yes, she’d tried dating girls but…outside the arts it was so very frowned upon, she couldn’t take the chance that she’d be caught or worse that they’d be caught. Anyway, it looked like this might be a sticking point for Bob.

Alicia had really been looking forward to the next few days. Bobby and his team, the Montreal Canadiens were set to play the Ottawa Senators on the 15th. She was scheduled to go and watch from a private box. She loved watching him play. And the way the rest of the boys looked up to him. It was like watching poetry on ice, even if she wasn’t terribly fond of all the bruises he walked away from the ice with, though the bruises he gave out, they were another story.  

Well. Nothing to be done about it now. All she could do was wait and hope that she made it out for the game, at the very least hope that they found her a hotel room and soon. They had returned the checked bags to the passengers when it became clear that hotels were going to be needed so at least she had all of her clothes and such. Alicia wandered over to the closest terminal and sat down in the wildly uncomfortable chairs. She did have a book that she had been meaning to finish. No time like the present and all that.


“ALICIA CARLSON TO GATE NUMBER 1754. REPEAT, PASSENGER ALICIA CARLSON TO GATE NUMBER 1754. THANK YOU”

Alicia’s head jerked up at the sound of her name over the loudspeaker. She glanced at her watch. It had been maybe four-ish hours since she sat down.  She’d gotten almost halfway through her book when she determined that she was too tired to continue and had made a pillow out of her outerwear and started dozing, as if she could actually fall asleep on these uncomfortable chairs. Alicia shook herself and gathered her things. They must have found a hotel for her. This was apparently a perk of being a semi famous actress, that’s the only reason they’d call her individually by name. Alicia spared half a moment to feel guilty that she’d gotten special treatment and then her back started to protest her uncomfortable nap and the guilt went out the window.

“Hello, I’m Alicia Carlson. You called my name? Over the intercom?”

“Yes, Miss Carlson, please make your way to the check in at the front of the airport. They have the information for your hotel there. Thank you for flying with us, ma’am.”

“Thank you so much, I just need to go that way?” Alicia gestured.

“Yes ma’am, just follow back the way you came.”

Alicia gathered her things and tried to look a little less like she’d slept half the night in an airport chair and took off down the hall. All she could think of was the warm bed waiting for her at the end of this mildly hellish night. She was going to order the worst possible thing from the room service menu and follow it up with both cheesecake and the most chocolatey chocolate cake available. Today. Had sucked.

She stopped at checking and asked where they needed her to be. She was told to simply take her bags and go out the front door. There should be a chauffeur holding a sign with her name on it. You can’t miss him they said.

Alicia bundled up and headed out into the snow, very glad that she had been heading north ANYWAY so all her cold weather gear was with her. Winter hat on and heavy duty mittened, she headed out the doors.

She looked around.

There was only one car in site.

If you could call it a car. It looked like a pretty intense SUV. Those tires…did those tires have CHAINS on them?

And the man in front of the car, he was holding a sign, hand lettered. But it didn’t say Alicia Carlson.

‘Mon Cher’ in big letters.

The man lowered the sign so that she could see his face.

When their combined body weight hit the car, it didn’t even rock.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? YOU HAVE A GAME IN TWO DAYS YOU STUPID MAN. IT’S THE MIDDLE OF A BLIZZARD. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

Alicia was embarrassed to find that she was crying.

“It was only three hours by car, and no one is on the roads, I grew up in Canada Alicia, I know how to drive in worse snow than this. Did you think I would let snow stop me from seeing you for Valentines? Did you think I’d let it stop me from getting you someplace warm and dry and comfortable for the night? You couldn’t fly to me, so I came to you dearest. It only makes sense,” Bob murmured into the warmth of her hair, his breath tickling her ear.

“Come on, lets get your things in the car, I brought flowers and travel snacks, I even have some hot chocolate for the ride.”

Alicia chuckled wetly, “Pragmatic and romantic.  What a catch.”

Bobby winked at her.


The drive was long but didn’t seem it. The hotel was a dream but they didn’t notice it. The reservations the next night were incredibly romantic but they hardly needed it. And game against the Senators was a triumphant win but that was barely a footnote.

Everything worked out just like it needed to.

And what a story it was (every year) for the grandchildren.

The Missing Piece (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1705
Warnings: slight angst

Summary: You are a SHIELD Agent working undercover in Belgrade, Serbia when a run in with Bucky Barnes changes your future

A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged, gif not mine (x)

After seeing his face and the metallic shine coming from his arm there was no mistaking who this was. He looked at you wide eyed and scared. “Tell me where Charlie is!” he yelled.

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Oneshot: A Mammalian Match

So in Platypus Onesies For All, I made a terrible error. I did not actually write about the glory that is Heinz Doofenshmirtz in a platypus onesie. This oneshot is a kind of a sequel. 


It was Dress Up Like An Animal Day. This year, the day happened to coincide with the dinner party the American division was hosting for the international branches of the OWCA. The most recent memo encouraged dressing like an animal instead of the formal attire of years past. 

While Perry would’ve gotten away with just his fedora, he felt terrible leaving Heinz hanging. Matching was much more fun anyway. And he was touched that Heinz bought a little ocelot hoodie that even came with a fake tail just for him. It was much cozier than the stiff material of a suit. 

Perry also allowed Heinz to apply kitty whiskers with a thin paintbrush. There were three black streaks on each cheek, easily washable of course. 

“I can see why this is so popular,” Heinz said, flipping the bill of the onesie over his fedora. “You wanna feel? It’s really fuzzy. Hopefully not too fuzzy though. You know how when you’re wearing winter socks and the fuzz gets caught between your toes? That’s what it feels like.” 

Perry ran his fingers up and down Heinz’s arm, chattering as he felt the material squish in his hand. 

Heinz grinned. “I know you like it too. We don’t have to leave just yet. We can totally get away with being fashionably late. Why do they call it that anyway? What does fashion have to do with an inability to show up on time?”

Perry tugged him to his feet. They were going to arrive on time, and that was final. 

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Souvenirs (A CS AU) Part 1/14

A Modern CS AU where Emma has grown up in Maine her whole life and runs a store with Ruby and MM. Killian Jones is the new guy in town, who just bought the local bar. Only Emma and Killian have met before and now she can’t help but wonder if their past has influenced his plans for the future. Includes tons of fluff and a happily ever after. Rated M.

A/N: So I’ve decided that this whole republishing a story on off days idea was a good one and I’m hailing back to a story I wrote in March that involves Emma and Killian finding their way back to each other after years apart. It’s all fluff and sweetness with a bit of smut in upcoming chapters, and for those of you who read it before, you know there’s nothing like angst in sight. I’ve made a few edits, but mostly it’s the same story some of you know. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Emma Swan could set her watch to the small town of Storybrooke, Maine. Everyday was just the same, her neighbors lived in a daily cycle that was very rarely tampered with and the comfort of such sameness was immense. For a girl who’d known a tumultuous start to life, mundane routine was a gift, one she never sent packing. Better to be safe than risk losing the good you already had.

It was this sort of thinking that left Emma smiling at the sight of Tiny, a very large man with an ironic nickname who lived nearby, with his small Chihuahua Teeny who yipped all the way down the block. It had her laughing at the troop of seven dwarves (their own designated squad name, for reasons unknown) as they headed off to work on the edge of town. It had her knowing that right behind them would be her best friend Mary Margaret carrying two cups of cocoa for her and Emma and hopefully a Danish from Granny’s. The tinkling of the bell above the store’s door signaled she’d been right.

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It’s A Contest *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

(Requested by Anon) Hi! Your Bucky one-shots are awesome!! I was grinning to myself and my dad thought I was texting my bf XD Anyways can you do a Christmas bucky one where he and the reader are wrapping up presents and they have a “competition” but neither of them succeeds so they laugh it off? Oh! And many fluff if you can :D
Warnings: Fluff, swearing and implied smut talking - as in you reader makes a statement that implies sex! NO actual smut. 
Admins Note: Sorry its late, but I loved this request sooo much I wanted to write it. Sorry again, all the Christmas request we got, probably won’t be written up since its so far gone now. Also this is featuring Sam Wilson with those glasses.


What are you doing?” you glanced up to see Bucky towering over you, scattered multi-coloured wrapping paper, bows and labels flung around you and you had a piece of cello-tape stuck on one cheek. You grinned brightly as he frowned “Christmas was two days ago, (Y/N)” he tells you and you nod, knowing that but you weren’t with the Avengers for Christmas.

Well if you didn’t realise it, not that YOU would, I was away for Christmas and I decided to get everyone a gift on my holiday and I need to wrap them all up before everyone gets back” you tell him, an eye roll following straight afterwards, Bucky sat opposite you that’s when you noticed something about him. Green, heart-shaped glasses were framing his clear-blue eyes, he smiled as if this was a normal thing to be wearing. 

“I’ll help you” he decided, prying a gift from the bag and he began to poorly cut the paper, you would have scolded him but you needed another pair of hands with you for this task.

So… where did you go?” he asked with a small smile, you muttered the word Paris to him, he raised his eyebrows “Ooh, the city of love, huh?” he wiggled his eyebrows and you giggled at him, throwing a red bow at him, which he caught and stuck to the gift he finished wrapping “who did you go with?” he asked, trying not to sound too obvious to the fact he was figuring out if you were single or not. 

Alone actually” you tell him, he raises an eyebrow “yeah, I brought the tickets for me and my now ex-boyfriend, he was a dick so I decided to go alone; that and I couldn’t find anyone who actually wanted to spend an entire weekend with me” you chuckled, Bucky mocked offence.

You didn’t ask me?” he asked, you laughed loudly “Wow, I love romantic things, you could have took me to a fancy Paris dinner and ended the night at the Eiffel Tower” he tutted playfully, you snorted with laughter, Bucky always somehow managed to get you to really laugh, you hated that! 

“Next time” you retort, he nodded, holding you to that statement. 

Oh, shut up! I can totally wrap faster than you” Bucky told you, raised voice and frown apparent, to anyone else the sight would have been terrifying because of who Bucky was. Only he never really scared you, you guessed it was because he showed so much of his cuddly/ fun side with you that when he was suddenly aggressive it never really… affected you. 

In your dreams” you scoff, he narrowed his eyes, full Winter Soldier glare and if Natasha were here she would have been ready to pounce if he attacked you; only you were the last person Bucky would ever attack, even if he was in the wrong mind, he believes he would never intentionally hurt you.  

Don’t fucking start, (Y/L/N)” he sternly tells you “I am faster, smarter and let’s face… excellent at wrapping, you really think you can take me on?” he asked, you nodded with a shrug, this whole scenario reminded you of when he challenged you to Mario Kart, he beat you at that.   

Bring it on” you smirk “old man” you added, that was the last straw, Bucky set up the challenge areas; you had to wrap three gifts (around the same size also) and the first person to have each gift wrapped, labelled and with a bow… wins!

Cello-tape in both of your hair and faces, wrapping paper cut in odd shapes and flung around the room, bows on you and the gifts and you put a label on Bucky. It said To (Y/N) Love Bucky! It made you giggle because it looked as though, Bucky was putting himself in the place of your present, although it was clearly your own hand-writing- it was still funny to see the label dangling off hus human arm. 

The presents were wrapped poorly also, Bucky had put so much tape on one that you were certain the poor Avenger who had to open it would take decades, hopefully, Thor got it because he could probably rip tape easily. Bucky looked at you, a blue bow was on top of his head, you began to go into a fit of giggles he looked so adorable. He smiled affectionately at you, a little confused on why you were giggling at him but the sound was enough to make him not question it, he loved seeing you so happy. 

I think neither of us won” he mutters once you calm down enough, you nod in agreement, grabbing one of his other presents and laughing at his ‘wrapping skills’… you could still the gift from the other side. Bucky grabbed one of yours, he chuckled loudly and deeply, two different wrapping papers and five bows.

Over achiever” he mutters, you glare at him “two different wrapping papers? Really?” he asked a raised eyebrows thrown your way.

You stole the roll from me, then bashed me on the head with the wrapping paper, making lightsaber noises!” you defend, he then remembered he did do that, you both went into hysterics of laughter.

Oh my god” you both look up to see Sam looking at the mess you both created, you frowned he had funny glasses on to, Bucky was still wearing his “hey… you still have them on” Sam grinned happily, Bucky nodded. 

We made a bet with Tony that we would wear these glasses for a full month” Bucky finally tells you “we get $5,000 each” he tells you, you widen your eyes in surprise and he nods “ooh yeah… that’s a challenge I can do” he smugly smirked. 

“If you have sex the girl will have to be on top” you state in thought, Sam looks at Bucky who was looking at you with wide eyes, you weren’t one to talk about that so openly but then again you always said what was on your mind. Looking at the two men “what the glasses would fall and hit her in the face, right?” you asked, now trying to figure out if the glasses would fall, Bucky snickered he could imagine what you were thinking. 

The momentum would make them fall” you finally grin, realising everything you had just said, you frown and look at Bucky “I need to stop hanging round you. Sam that is your present, Bucky wrapped it” you throw the gift, Sam catches it and yells a thank you. 

You have a strange mind” Bucky states, pushing the glasses up his nose “we should go see if we can squeeze more money out of, Stark” he jumps up, kicking the wrapping paper to the side, he looked around at the mess “we’ll get Steve to clean this up, or maybe Scott” he whispers and you nod “maybe he has a funny hat you can wear for the same amount” he yells happily, making you wonder why you hang out with him in the first place. 

(Remember to request; one shot and imagines by myself and Angie- Rosalee)

First Christmas

Fandom: WWE

Pairing/Characters: Dean Ambrose/Roman Reigns

Length: ~3200 words

Rating: M. Smut ahoy. But also some plot. Because it’s me.

AN: Christmas story I wrote for @tox-moxley and the @25daysofchrismuts challenge.

Also for @thee-asshole-of-moxicity, who got a sneak preview, and @actualamyautopsy, who suggested the working title of “Dickmas Cums Only Once A Year,” LMAO

Roman and Dean’s first Christmas as a couple.  YES THIS IS THE DICK IN A BOX STORY. I wasn’t lying about that.

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Healing Part II - Kitten and the Don

Thank you for you patience! This is the second part of my two-part tribute for the “Kitten and the Don” AU by the two lovely @junkpilestuff and @nyublackneko.
It revolves around a thirty-year-old Frisk, who slowly, yet surely falls ill, though they would never admit this, of course. They work for Don G (Gaster!Sans) and are right now, involved in a trade allience between his family and the Nice Gang and not only their personal problems seem to stack up quicker than they can handle them.
One million thanks again to @candiedconstellations. I really hope I have done your ideas justice. You know what a difficult birth this one had been, so thank you so much for your constant motivation, ideas and suggestions. This wouldn’t exist without you!
AND ALSO, THANK YOU TO EVERYONE OF YOU GUYS! It has been for 4 months now since I started writing for this AU and it had been a blast! Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this piece!

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A Shift in Fate - Part 3;

Back again with some more crossover. As always, this is co-written by Voltra, creator of @ut-storyshift, and this time we have probably two of the most anticipated characters appearing. Fun stuff!

Characters: IF Frisk, Sans, Papyrus, Flowey; Storyshift Chara, Asriel, Papyrus
Rating: PG
Summary: Upon venturing from the Ruins, Frisk stumbles upon another human! A very mysterious human with cool teleportation powers, and their adorable goat sibling. Little do they realize, they’re not alone.

If you’re new to the crossover, here are part 1 and part 2 respectively!


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Miracles in December Advent--Chen

Woops…this was due two days ago ㅠ~ㅠ

Word Count: 1228

Genre: Fluff


You could hear your phone, but you couldn’t find it for the life of anyone. The ringtone echoed throughout your apartment, and you had at least narrowed it down to your bedroom but no matter where you searched, you just couldn’t find it. You searched for your phone on your nightstand, behind your nightstand, under your nightstand and in every nightstand drawer before deciding that it wasn’t there. Now it began to sound like it was coming from your bed, not the nightstand. Promptly grabbing the sheets, you yanked them off your bed, hoping that your phone was either lying under the mess of blankets or would come flying out. It was neither. After shaking out the blankets one more time, you pulled the pillows off one by one, praying that you could find your phone under one of them. Another failure. You sighed in frustration. Your phone was ringing incessantly and you knew exactly who it was. As a last resort, you pulled up part of the mattress to see if it was hiding there.

Bingo.

It was wedged between the mattress and the headboard, and the screen was lit up with several notifications.

23 missed calls from DinoChen.

You answered the phone.

“JAGIIII~~~~~~!!! Why are you ignoring me?” Jongdae whined.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t find my phone. I’m heading out the door right now,” you informed him, grabbing your scarf and running outside.

“It took you 35 calls to find your phone? That’s impressive improvement. Where was it this time?”

“Under my mattress, and it was 23.”

“Whatever. It felt like a hundred, and you’re late by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah. I was supposed to be there at 7:30 and now I’m abandoning you because I’m fifteen minutes late,” you retorted.

“30 minutes by the time you get here…assuming you don’t get lost,” he sassed back.

“I’m not gonna get lost this time!”

“M’kay, see you soon…hopefully.”

“KIM JONGDA-”

He hung up. You smiled and shook your head at his ridiculousness as you speed walked through the streets. Who in their right mind calls someone 23 times in a row?


You reached the courtyard outside the Concert Hall at 8:00 sharp. Jongdae was right. You were 30 minutes late. You scanned the courtyard trying to find him and shivered. It began to snow and you couldn’t feel your fingers…or your cheeks, or your nose, or your lips…or much of anything, really.

“Jagi! What the hell are you doing?!” Jongdae called out in dismay. You heard him but you couldn’t see him until he was basically on top of you. He barreled through the courtyard with the most concerned look on his face and tackled you into a giant hug.

“I’m looking for you, what does it look like I’m doing?” you replied, voice muffled by his coat. He let go and held you out at arm’s length, scanning you up and down, looking completely exasperated.

“I mean, what are you wearing?”

You looked down at yourself and mentally facepalmed. You left your coat at home. The only thing that was protecting you from the winter chill was your sweater and a scarf. No wonder it was so freaking cold. Jongdae started laughing when he saw you realize the situation that you were in and pulled you back into a hug.

The warmth from your run around town dissipated by now, leaving you feeling helpless and colder than ever. “It’s y-y-your fault. You rushed m-me…” you chattered. Jongdae pulled you to a bench next to the fountain that sat in the middle of the courtyard. He sat you down and began fishing through every pocket in his jacket. You sat there dumbfounded as he pulled out one or two hot packs from each pocket and shoved them into your hands and piled them into your lap.

“What am I going to do with you? You wore everything: hat, boots, a sweater, and a scarf…just not a coat,” he snickered playfully, taking off his own coat and pulling it around your shoulders. He snuggled in next to you, happy that you were beginning to warm up.

“Jongdae, take your coat. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m ok,” he assured you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while before Jongdae got up and asked if you were ready to go.

“Where?”

“Around town. I wanted to look at the lights with you,” he said, offering you a hand in stuffing the hot packs back into the coat pockets. He took your hand and led you out of the courtyard and through the city streets. Shops were elaborately decorated with lights and Christmas trees, adding to the festivity as the snow fell. A huge tree of lights stood proudly at the center of a street square. A net of white lights stretched out from the top of the tree to the buildings nearby, wrapping the street below in a blanket of brightness. The two of you found small Christmas trees lined up in the center of the street with pieces of paper tied to their branches holding the wishes of other people. You stopped to write your own wishes down. A new piece of paper was soon added to the tree saying “I hope Jongdae doesn’t get sick.” Next to it hung “I want to stay with my Jagi forever.”  

His lips pressed to your cheek, the icy touch startling you a little, and you felt like your wish was made a little too late when Jongdae started sneezing a few minutes later. The stubborn kid wouldn’t accept his own jacket back, insisting that he was fine.


The next day, he was whining into the phone about being sick and needing your attention. You sighed and headed over to his place.

“This is all your fault,” Jongdae groaned under a pile of blankets. “I wouldn’t be sick if you didn’t forget your coat…”

“You rushed me.”

“You stole my jacket.”

“You gave it to me!”

“Whatever…”

“And plus, even when I offered it back to you, your stubborn ass didn’t want it,” you reminded him. He muttered something under his breath and fell was quiet for a while. You checked his temperature with the back of your hand and replaced the towel on his forehead.

“Feed me,” he whined again, opening his mouth. You fed him some soup and grumbled something about having to deal with a giant child all the time.

After a while, Jongdae was starting to doze and you were wondering why he didn’t want his jacket back. No one likes being sick, and you were sure that he was aware of what was coming for him.

“It’s because I didn’t want you to get sick,” Jongdae said out of the blue, as if reading your mind.

“What?”

“I didn’t want you to get sick. That’s why I didn’t take it back. Because I love you. Why else would I call you twenty three times in a row? I’d do it a hundred times if I had to…” His voice dropped off into low mumbling you couldn’t understand. You sat there in silence as he started dozing again. Leaning forward, you kissed his burning cheek.

“I love you too…stop being sick so I can kiss you properly,” you whispered into his hair.

Jongdae smiled a little to himself and fell asleep.

anonymous asked:

Jamie tries to flirt with Jack, but Jack is oblivious. Jamie comes up with different methods, each one progressively getting more blunt until he eventually just comes out and tells Jack in direct words.

Sorry for the wait for this one! Had a bit of trouble sticking to the prompt so I just started it over sasdfghjk;

Hope you like it!

“So Jack, I’ve been thinking about something…”

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anonymous asked:

Can you do a short cute BBRae Christmas fic? Like with miseltoe or something cute?! ❤️💚

Ahhh, I totally suck at holiday fics. Cold Front was, ahem, my attempt at something mildly festive.

But, you ask so nicely, anon. I cannot refuse.

I’m sorry if this sucks, I’m just bad at this. Hopefully you like it?


Raven found him on the rock outside the Tower. The wind that blew through her cloak was bitingly frigid and it made her shudder, causing her to grip the blue fabric tighter about her throat.

He had cleared off a mound of snow and planted himself just on the edge, staring bleakly into the ice cold, dark waters that surrounded their home. If the cold bothered the changeling at all, he would not let it show. Instead, he appeared to be impervious to the winter night’s frosty temperatures, perhaps too far into his own miserable thoughts to pay attention to his freezing digits. The wind blew Raven’s deep violet hair askew about her face when it hit her, whipping it so that a few strands stuck to her mouth and made her skin prickle, like from a hard slap. Annoyed, she blew the hair out of her way, and took in a deep breath before levitating towards where the changeling was currently situated.

He never bothered to glance up at her, even as she used her powers to move aside the layer of snow before sitting beside him. Cold, she pulled her knees to her chest and tried to stay warm beneath her cloak.

The moon hung full and heavy in the clear, midnight sky, a shining beacon of yellow light amidst all the darkness. Stars twinkled overhead, trying to outshine one another, all the while the gusty wind blew about small snowflakes towards the frozen ground.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked him at last, being mindful of his emotions the entire time.

Beast Boy shook his head. “Nothing to talk about.”

The youngest Titan appeared sullen, and it had aged his youthful features enough to be unsettling to the empath. She was never used to seeing him look so beat down, no matter how often it happened.

“Are you sure?” She persisted once more.

Beast Boy let out a long, drawn out sigh, closing his eyes as the whistling wind rustled his already unruly fringe of green hair.

“What do you think happened? That, for once in my pathetic, miserable life, someone might have returned my feelings? She rejected me, Rae. You know it, they know it, everyone knows it.” He looked back bitterly at the T shaped tower, it’s bright lights glowing against the dark backdrop of the bustling city beyond.

Remorse. Anger. Hurt. They spiked and spiraled within him, causing the empath to wince and recoil from it’s somber touch.

She knew all too well how rejection felt, how painful a heartbreak could be. Thankfully, she’d only ever experienced it once before, whereas Beast Boy…

Beast Boy experienced it rather frequently. Raven didn’t know how he did it, how he could stay so aloof amidst so much emotional bruising.

She spared him a sympathetic glance, knowing just how much he put himself out there to no avail. Beast Boy wore his heart on his sleeve and, more often than not, he was taken advantage of, tossed out into the cold, only to be forgotten once he’d worn off his charm.

Raven knew better than anyone what it was like to be cast out for being different; to feel unloved and used.

Strange, how alike the pair of them could be at times, despite their more glaring differences.

Her frozen fingers dug the red Santa hat out of the snow next to him, and she shook off the remaining white powder until she could see every detail again.

In dark green felt, he’d cut out and glued letters that read, “Kiss me, it’s Christmas!” while a mistletoe decorated the white hem of the hat.

Unlike many folk, he’d gotten the white berries with the pine green leaves, as mistletoe actually was. Initially confused by the images he’d researched, Beast Boy had gone to the trouble of clarifying it with Raven herself. Many would have assumed that it was the red berries, but she had seen that Beast Boy had been desperate to get all the details right for the special occasion, so she had decided to offer a helping hand.

Not that it had mattered in the end; the girl had crushed him regardless, and he’d tossed the hat aside like it had been garbage, despite all the work and effort he’d put into sewing and making it himself. 

Beast Boy, determined to leave a lasting impression on his crush, had looked up the sewing pattern, bought the fabric and thread he needed, and made Cyborg show him how to use a sewing machine. Just for a stupid hat and an excuse to kiss a girl he liked.

That he had foolishly assumed had liked him back.

But, like all the others before her, she had merely used him.

All for her five minutes of fame, for a chance to get closer to other, more physically appealing, popular heroes. Raven may have agreed that the changeling had a rather unique look about him, but it certainly didn’t make him unattractive. It only made him…different.

“You aren’t going to throw it out, are you?” She queried, indicating the limp, festive hat still held in between her fingertips.

Beast Boy didn’t blink. He stared out into the water, his warm breath coming out in visible puffs of grey steam. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s no good, anyways. The stitching is half-assed and sloppy, the felt is coming off, and the hot glue keeping the mistletoe attached is falling apart. It’s hideous, nobody wants anything like that.”

The bitterness in his words were not lost on the empath; it wasn’t just the hat Beast Boy was expressing his distaste for.

Raven then did something unexpected and entirely uncharacteristic; she put on the goofy looking article of clothing.

It was the first time that Beast Boy had looked at her the whole night, and the first time his permanent scowl seemed to have dissipated since she’d wandered outside.

Her purple hair stuck out at odd angles underneath the Santa Claus hat, the bell attached to the end instead of a pom-pom jingling as she gave Beast Boy an unimpressed, deadpan expression.

She looked positively miserable and hilarious at the same time, nearly as cute as she had been when Mumbo Jumbo had turned her into a bunny.

“Raven…,” Beast Boy breathed, wide-eyed and flustered.

She adjusted it over her ears so that at least her head was somewhat warm. “How’s it sit?”

“Uhm…,” Beast Boy cleared his throat uncomfortably, not knowing what to say.

“At least it isn’t itchy, like Starfire’s ugly Christmas sweaters,” she added with a shrug of her shoulders.

By Azar, she was starting to get used it.

Beast Boy snickered then, unable to hold it back any longer. “You don’t exactly want to be kissed, Raven, so give me the hat back and I promise I won’t toss it.”

She jutted out her bottom lip in protest and folded her arms over her chest defiantly. “Too late; you already said you didn’t want it. Finders keepers, Beast Boy,” she chided, mimicking his own rules.

A scowl crossing his features, the changeling made to grab at the hat, yanking it off the empath’s head so that the static made her hair stand on end.

“Hey!” She cried, grabbing back at the fabric just as he tried snatching it away.

“Come on, Rae! It’s my hat!” He whined childishly.

“Only if you admit that it isn’t trash!”

Raven didn’t relinquish her hold on her end of the hat, and the two Titans played a brief match of tug of war.

Fine! It isn’t trash! Happy now?” He conceded through gritted teeth.

Just like that, she let go, and the green skinned boy nearly went flying off the edge of the rock and into the ice-cold waters. She caught him with a shield of black magic before he went tumbling in.

Once he’d regained his balance and calmed his frazzled nerves, he appeared humbled, and sheepishly mumbled a small, relieved thank you to his teammate. Raven nodded once before working her fingers through her hair to settle it back down from the static.

Beast Boy, after staring at the hat in defeat for a few moments, put the silly thing on his head.

“It looks dumb, doesn’t it?” He asked her halfheartedly, trying to make the bent leaves of the mistletoe stick back on with his fingertips to no avail.

“Yes, it does,” Raven agreed, but a small smile was playing among her lips.

Beast Boy, taking her good mood as permission to press forward, leaned in and wiggled his brows suggestively at the empath. “So, Rae, are you gonna obey the dumb hat and give old Beastie a smooch under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve?”

He then closed his eyes and puckered up his lips in mockery, causing Raven to move back a couple of inches to help create some distance between them.

Then, much to his surprise, Beast Boy felt a set of warm lips press against his, and the faint taste of pear and honey from Raven’s herbal tea. His eyes shot open as he witnessed the older Titan kissing him, the lavender and vanilla scent of her shampoo invading his nostrils like an intoxicating perfume.

Her nose and cheeks were dusted red, and he couldn’t be sure if it was from the cold or if she was actually blushing. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her mouth was shy and unsure on his. In their little bubble, the cold couldn’t find them. It was warm where their breath mingled, where her soft lips grazed against his own, unmoving but tender. The moment felt like it had lasted forever, and Beast Boy would have been perfectly content if it had. Just as he’d embraced the chaste kiss, and longed to deepen it, Raven pulled away, leaving him at the mercy of the cold night air, instead. The moisture of her breath was quick to dry on his pliant mouth, much to Beast Boy’s disappointment, but he didn’t dare say anything out loud.

Raven’s fingers brushed against her parted lips, as if in disbelief, while she was forced to glance away from his inquisitive stare.

Woah…,” Beast Boy breathed, licking his lips for another taste of her. He needed proof that he hadn’t just imagined it, that Raven had really kissed him.

His heart hammered wildly against his ribcage, ready to burst at any given moment. His face and neck were flushed with heat, despite the brisk, outdoor weather.

“You actually kissed me,” he noted in bewilderment, somewhat breathlessly.

Raven took it as her cue to stand up, coughing to clear her throat before folding her arms over her chest and making to head back into the tower. “Yeah, well, the stupid hat has the stupid mistletoe on it, and Cyborg swears that you have bad luck in love for years if you ignore it’s stupid rules, so…” She rolled her eyes, talking fast even though her teeth chattered from the cold.

“Anyways, I’m going to bed,” she pronounced sternly.

With that, she floated towards the main doors of the tower as quickly as she could, not daring to look back for fear that her emotions would once again get the better of her, and she’d run back, only to kiss him until her lips were sore and she could no longer feel her fingertips…

~FIN

The War is Won

Pairing: GWash x reader

Prompt:  George Washington x reader where they’re both married to each other and have children and communicate through letters since he’s busy fighting the war and being the general. Then he comes home and there’s a bit of smut😏bc I’ve only seen Gwash smut like once. Thank you❤️

TW: Allusions to NSFW, mentions of war and death

Word Count: 1864

~~~~

The letters between you two were the only ones that George took the time to write himself. Any others were dictated, and put to paper by Hamilton’s ink. But to you…he couldn’t bare to hand off the one link he had outside of this war to someone else. He had to feel the quill as it dug into his middle finger, and the light pull of the parchment under the tip. He had to see the way the ink smudged when he wrote too quickly, and his hand passed over what he’d just written. He needed to feel as close to you as he could now, and this was as close as he could get.

‘Dearest, (Y/N)

Are you doing well? This winter is rumored to be harsh. Perhaps the most so in years. Do you have enough firewood? I remember how you joked that I cut enough for four winters, but with the idea of a blizzard pressing on us, I wonder just how true that is. How are the children? I miss them…and the thought of you being alone with them, with no support…

I remember the day I told you I had to leave…and you were still pregnant with Anna. The look in your eyes, I wondered if you’d gone into labor right then…but luckily it was a false alarm. Leaving you in that state was perhaps the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But with France’s aid, we may be near the end of this. I may finally be able to return home, at this rate. Things are turning in our favor, dear.’

He snapped his head from his letter as there were calls from outside the tent. A redcoat had been spotted in the nearby forest…and if there was one wasp, there was no doubt a nest nearby. He needed to wrap this up.

‘Write soon, dear. I have to leave now, but I’ll write again tomorrow if I have the time. We may be mobilizing to Yorktown. Lafayette has a plan to bottleneck them, and end this war before it drags on too much longer…only time will tell how well it works.

I love you, my dear. I’ll see you soon.

General George Washington’

~~~~

You chuckled as you read his letter, a month old now, shaking your head. So formal, even with you. But he’d been right. This winter was harsh. And he’d been right again in worrying about the firewood. Half of it was gone now. You took a breath, folding the letter again and holding it to your chest. Speaking of Anna…where was she? Now five, your youngest daughter was always getting into something. You slipped from your chair by the fire, passing your eldest son, Matthew, who was eleven, where he was playing on the carpet with your middle child, Eloise, who was only seven.

You patted Matthew’s head, and heard him laugh a little, looking up to you as you passed. He had his father’s eyes, when they were still so young, and you loved them, even aged as they were in your husband now.

You poked your head into your husband’s office, laughing softly as you found Anna, asleep in George’s chair. You smiled, and gently lifted her from the surface, kissing her head and taking her upstairs to actually sleep in her bed. Afterwards, you stopped into the living room again asking Matthew to keep an eye on Eloise, while you wrote a letter.

“Is father coming home soon?” Matthew’s tone was soft, almost clipped. He’d picked that up the last time George had visited…it had been his birthday, so that made sense.

“Hopefully so…he said the war was turning, so all we can do is be patient.” You smiled softly, a bittersweet sense of affection in your eyes. Your son was growing up, and doing it so rapidly, you blinked, and he was a year older…and more like his father with every passing day. And ironically, your husband was missing their youngest years…

You took a deep breath, moving back into his office, and closing the door. You moved your skirts aside, and lightly took a seat in his chair, letting your hands run over the worn wood in thought. It creaked almost affectionately under your touch.

This room was widely off limits to the children, mostly because your husband had many valuable things in here Valuable, sentimental, fragile things. There was a battered hat on the mantle. It had belonged to one of the first battalion he led…he’d never gone into detail, but he’d said that he’d held this soldier’s hand until he finally…expired, and then the subject would change. There were his various accolades, not quite displayed, but certainly not hidden either. He wasn’t a prideful man…but he sometimes needed a reminder that all of this wasn’t for naught.

You took a breath, and readied parchment to write back to him.

“Dearest George,

The children are well, and so am I. You were right about the winter. There were three days of heavy snow, so heavy that the front door refused to open. The firewood lasted us, but too much longer and we would have had to either trudge into town and see what shops, if any, had some to sell or spare, or, more likely, cut some ourselves. But we will survive through the winter, and probably the spring.

Matthew asked about you today. When you were coming home. I told him soon, so you’d better hold true on that. I know I’ve commented on this so many times before, but he really did inherit your eyes…those same bright eyes you had when you first joined the military. He’s becoming more like you everyday…I’m sure he misses you, but he’s been trying to follow in your footsteps, be a man of the house. I have to remind him that he doesn’t need to be your shadow. I’m sure you will tell him the same when you are home.

I miss you…I miss you so much. The nights are lonely, and the days are long, and you scare me, making me wonder if I’ll suddenly hear of your demise, just after reading a letter of your saying things are well. Promise me, again, that you’ll be home before Anna’s birthday? Maybe not with a finished war, but your baby girl is turning six, and you’ve barely been around. I found her napping in your office today.

Eloise has grown quiet, as well…she hasn’t been talking much. Just yesterday, she said the first thing in what I think has been a few days, asking if you were ever coming home…don’t disappoint her, alright?

I will see you soon, I hope.

Love, (Y/N)’

You huffed to yourself, and readied the letter to send. You missed him so much and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take an empty bed. You’d dealt with this war for five long years. He’d missed your children growing up. He’d missed Anna’s first steps and her first words and you couldn’t bear the thought of him missing her birthday too…no, he had to be home by then. If Lafayette’s plan worked, and you knew he was exceptionally smart in the way of tactics, the he would be home before that date in a month.

Please let him be home by then.

~~~~

The day of Anna’s sixth birthday was very rapidly approaching. And worse, you’d heard nothing out of your husband, good or bad. You’d heard the end of the war was upon you, that your country was free, and it was all over, but you had heard nothing of your husband, good or bad. No notice of his untimely death, with his uniform and accolades returned to you, but no letter detailing his arrival home. You were in a limbo, wondering how you would tell your children that he was gone, or how to excite them for his return. You had to consider both.

You were putting the finishing touches on your daughter’s birthday gift. She’d be six in a week now, you couldn’t believe it. The little baby you’d held in your arms, with George having just barely made it to see her, tiny, and soft, and new to the world…

You had to take a moment to wipe at your eyes, and hold up the doll you’d been working on making a dress for. Sewing had never really been your strong point, but you would pull through to make Anna happy.

There was a fervent knock on your front door, and a rush of uncertainty ran through you, balancing between terror, and joy. There were two outcomes to this. Your husband was on the other side of that door, or his uniform was.

Only one way to find out.

You smoothed your self out, and rose from your seat in the living room to answer the door, hand pausing on the knob just as the knocking came again, louder this time. Your firmly wrapped your fingers around the brass before pulling the door open and feeling your breath practically evacuate your lungs.

There he was. Your George was on the stoop, hat in his hand, and a smile on his lips.

He was home! He’d made it! The war was over and he was home, and he wasn’t leaving you all again…

The children had already gone to bed for the evening, leaving you standing there, in awe, staring at your husband in silence. You ran into his arms, trying to avoid crying out in joy. He was home!!

He came into the home with his arms around you, pecking the top of your head. You began asking questions in a hushed tone as you made him sit down and you took a seat beside him. What took you so long? Why didn’t you write to me again? Where is Lafayette now that the war is over? Does he need a place to stay? Should I wake the children, or let you surprise them tomorrow? He hushed with a soft laugh after a minute or two with no time for answers.

“All of that can wait until tomorrow.” He promised, cupping your cheek, and letting you lean into his hand with a thankful, blissful smile. “It’s late, and we both need some rest.” You stood and grabbed his hand to pull him up.

You could see the new age in his eyes, even if his skin had yet to reflect it. They were the same eyes you’d fallen in love with, the same ones that had shed quiet tears when you handed him his son, and the same ones that had visited six months ago, but you could see the age with every new stress, every new event.

“Come on,” You murmured, shaking this from your head. “I think you’re a little too tense, and I have just the thing to make you unwind.” You gave him a look that he knew all too well, and started dragging him up the stairs, as though he had to be told twice.

~~~~

Yes, I know I technically skipped a request in writing this one, but it’s still on my list! I just need a break from the smut right now.

Love, Rosalie

Underwear? Underwear.

Disclaimer: Hiro Mashima owns all of Fairy Tail and every single one of its characters. I’m just anime trash with a dream and a laptop. 

Pairing: GrayLu

Rated: T

Summary: The holidays are in full swing, and a certain pair on Team Natsu are requested for a Magnolia Fair. With “Christmas Spirit” in the air, maybe the two will do more than complete the job request. And who knew a pair of underwear could act as a catalyst?  

Authors Note: So, I’m pretty sure I’m the worse Secret Santa alive because this is ten days late and I was given the most precious, sweetest human being to write a gift for. @magerain sweetheart, I cannot tell you how sorry I am that this is so late. But without further adieu, here is your gift, and I can only hope I’ll be able to fully make it up to you someday.

P.S. This is my first time writing GrayLu and my first time writing Canon verse. Hopefully it’s not terribly OOC!

Underwear was quickly becoming a theme in Lucy Heartfilia’s life.

It was the garment she modeled in Sorcerer Weekly photo spreads. It was the clothing item that always seemed to be destroyed, leaving her nude on various missions.  It was one of the first words a certain ice mage had said to her. The infamous greeting of, “Excuse me Miss, can I please borrow your underwear?” never leaving her mind.

Yes, that was correct, underwear was quickly becoming more and more relevant in Lucy’s life.

But she supposed that made sense, being close friends with a man like Gray Fullbuster.

Keep reading

Cover pages - Sanji x Nami P.7

This is the last part already!!! We’re at part 7 and we’ve gotten so much SaNami! As you probably know this is my cover analysis series. I go through the chapter cover pages, color spreads and Book covers in One Piece to see what SaNami I can find. Here are PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART4, PART 5 and PART 6 if you haven’t read them yet. :)

This was all for fun and to collect all the SaNami in one place. That being said of course I will be biased and some moments will be reaching or head canons.

This is the last part, but hopefully Oda will continue on to give us some really good SaNami both in the manga and on the color pages. I know he seems to have added more SaNami than before, and I can’t help but feel happy about it, even if I don’t expect anything from it. (Though the next chapter will apparently have a color page, so I can’t help but hope for more.)

This part will cover everything between book 73 until book 81 (+82) which is up to date in the manga. (Chapters 726 until chapter 817). Because it’s the last one it will be a little longer. I hope you all don’t mind, because we’ve got some of the best SaNami moments in this part. Let’s get to it!

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24 Days of Christmas: Stolen Kisses *Carl Grimes x Reader*

Originally posted by deathbytwd

Day Three

Summary: Pulling you in for a kiss with a scarf

-This one is a little short and my first time ever writing Carl- And I don’t know, Carl is probably so clueless to girls and kissing that it makes me smile.

Day Two


“Remind me again why we are outside the gate?” You asked walking beside Carl, your hands in your coat pockets due to the cold winter afternoon.

You glanced at Carl, head lowered and hat covering the top half of his face, hands deep in pant pockets and silent. You sighed softly and looked ahead; he had been closed off for a while, not really talking unless it was ranting about something stupid, in your opinion. When he came to Alexandria with his group you were apprehensive, yourself and your older brothers Spencer and Aiden were.

It was now just you and Spencer, the last surviving Monroe, having to watch your mum die was difficult! Wasn’t made easier with what happened to Carl, that whole night was hectic, many people died and so many who were close to you. You looked back at Carl who was looking ahead this time, one eye covered by gauze.

You huffed and stopped walking, crossing your arms and Carl stopped a few feet away, looking at you with a small frown. “If you brought me out here just to be a silent, brooding teenager, then I’m gonna go back because I’m not wasting my time being openly ignored, Carl! If you want someone to suffer your silence go find Enid.” You turned sharply on your heel stomping back through the forest to Alexandria.

“Y/N, wait up!” You stopped with raised eyebrows looking up at him.

“Oh. My. God. He can still speak!” He rolled his blue at you, giving you a ‘really?’ look and you shrugged him off. “I understand be mad, be hurt or whatever but just don’t ignore me. Don’t block me out again.” You punch his shoulder lightly and he nods.

It’s silent for a few seconds, “I’m sorry I’ve been and asshole.” You make a sound of agreement causing Carl to scoff but carry on, “just hate how easily everything went to shit. Alexandria was meant to be better, then your mum, then everything that happened outside.” He sighed and you nodded, “Did I say I was sorry?”

You shrugged, “Just once but I’ll take as many apologies I can get.” You chuckled and then sighed, “Alexandria is better, Carl. Your people really helped with that, yeah we’ve all had our moments, I mean you lost a fuckin’ eye because of Ron and almost died!” He tried not to laugh at your still in disbelief voice, “but we’ll all pull through. As a team, what doesn’t kill us, yet, will only make us stronger, hopefully.” You didn’t sound too convinced by that.

He nodded once and looked back to where you came, nodding to head back and you frowned which made Carl frown. “What?” He asked looking behind himself. You often wondered how he made it this far considering how clueless he actually is.

“I’m gonna blame the fact you only have one eye, which is why you didn’t see my obvious invitation to kiss me.” You deadpan and he still looks completely lost and confused, seriously how is he Rick’s kid right now?

You knew he hadn’t kissed a girl, due to the whole apocalypse thing, which was fine because it really proves how sweet Carl actually is. How despite he tries to not be like his dead, despite having the same temperament, the need to prove himself a lot. His caring nature to his little sister Judith, he was super sweet and held some of that normalcy to the old life you had.

You leant up, pulling him lightly down by the blue scarf he had loosely around his neck that he borrowed from some room in Alexandria, your lips lightly brushing against his in a sweet, innocent kiss that he responded to. You pulled away, smiling at him, he blushed and you chuckled.

“C’mon, let’s go back before anyone realises we’re missing.” You step away and take his hand in your own, pulling him along back to Alexandria.

(First time writing Carl, I’d like to point out, you can request TWD stuff now. Characters include; Negan, Carl, Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Abraham and mostly every woman. Just ask and I’ll see what I can do. Happy Holidays, remember to follow, so you can carry on the countdown to Christmas Eve. - Rosalee)


(Tagging everyone just cause christmas tags and why not.)

Tagging list: @girl-next-door-writes @22ifyoukeepmenextoyou  @t3-daria-todo @sebby-staan @skylark50 @thegoddamnfeels @gillibean9 @sergeantjamesbarnes107th @full-of-sins-not-tragedies @fxcknbarnes @broncos5soslover @say-my-name-assbut @fangirlwithasweettooth @buckyismybbz @phanalamatrash @charlotteblanden  @wholockiand @momscapris @mashroom-burrito @firewolfkelly @winterboobaer

@petyrslittledove @youprettyhuman @mychocolatemints @avengingthesupernatural @usannika @itzelreader @tillytheinvisibleshadow @mooney-blake @imagining-marvel-soldier  @oh-my-gravity @what-the-ducky-bucky @heyitssilverwolf@katiegrace12 @newtmas-newtella @sillylittlemary @holawhippershnappers @buckyhawk @codexofwitches @the-the-sound-of-the-bees-blog @songsforsentences @leahneslen21 @whateveriwantworld @itsblehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh @cassiebarnes  @that-one-jewish-elf @tardispandagirl  

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Fenhawke Secret Santa

I got the very lovely @queendeannatroi as my giftee, and she asked for something with purple mage Garrett Hawke and Fenris. She was also kind enough to provide some post-DAI ideas of their relationship on her tumblr, and I’ve done my best to write something (hopefully!) in keeping with that.

I hope you enjoy, queendeannatroi, and I hope you and yours have a very merry Christmas!

1200 words, Fenris/M!Hawke, rated K. Recommended listening: any sentimental Christmas playlist you’ve got.

“Well,” Hawke says, “I suppose that’s that.”

Fenris pauses in his inspection of the dubious hat Hawke has tossed to the table before the couch, scarlet poms peppering the knitted-snowflake wool. “That’s what?”

“The end of the holiday. As far as it matters, anyway.” He collapses into the armchair by the library’s merry hearthfire and the joists groan, too slender for Hawke’s careless girth. “I should have bought you more things to unwrap.”

Fenris snorts, surrounded already by a new cloak, a knife fine enough he fears to dull the blade, and, inexplicably, a slim volume of poetry bound too well in black leather. As if Hawke, already governed too easily by his whims, had simply swept every item Fenris had touched during the last months into one great basket for his approval.

Well. Fenris hesitates, the tips of his fingers brushing across smooth leather. He will not deny he approves.

Keep reading

Merry Christmas, Bucky Barnes (for Lara aka AgentPeggieCarter)

Merry Christmas, Lara! This ended up sort of pre-relationship, and it is possible for it to go either way, or both, I guess, depending on how you see it going, but hopefully this is something you’ll enjoy!

Merry Christmas, Bucky Barnes

“Thanks again, Miss Lewis. I know this probably wasn’t how you imagined spending your Christmas Eve.” The Captain’s effortless way of blending sincere gratitude and regretful apology was almost painful to Darcy. She purposefully surrounded herself with people that communicated with cold hard facts or overblown, dramatic expressions that were more sarcastic and superficial then containing any actual emotion. Cue her typical response to feeling uncomfortable around other people’s emotion: irreverent humor.

“It’s fine, Cap, really. You’re just saving me from my annual Christmas morning hangover and probably an awkward walk of shame as well. Actually, I should be thanking you.”

Steve did his best not to frown with disappointment at the young woman as he cleared his throat. He was about 80 percent sure she was kidding anyway. That seemed to be Darcy’s thing. Besides, she really was doing him a favor. It would be bad manners to be judgmental about her life choices, or about the way she joked about intimate things in a way that he found inappropriate. It wasn’t like she was the only person he knew that was like that. She was simply a product of her time, it seemed.

“Well, I just wanted you to know how grateful I, uh…” Steve stuttered off when Darcy waved one of her delicate hands in his face.

“Seriously, don’t mention it. So, you really think he’ll show up?” She accepted the glasses from the Stark Industries tech guy and placed them on her face. They were more expensive and fashionable then her own glasses, and this pair came with the added feature of being able to digitally transmit audio and video feed back to the surveillance van.

“I think so. If he’s starting to remember anything from his past… well, hopefully that will draw him here.” He held up a tablet that displayed a collage of photos, both from the time before, and from now. There where stills from video taken in DC as well as surveillance photos taken around the world in the last 18 months. “You have his face memorized, right? He could have altered his appearance since Amsterdam.”

Darcy chuckled and pushed the tablet away. “Trust me, Cap, I’ve done nothing but study his pretty mug since you asked for my help three days ago, and even if he’s wearing an epic disguise, I doubt I’ll ever be able to forget the shape of those thighs. Meow!” she growled playfully making kitten claws at Captain America, thereby sealing her in his mind as a shameless flirt, as well as a few less flattering things, probably.

Steve began to seriously doubt Miss Lewis’s ability to be serious and helpful, and was sort of regretting asking for her help in this matter, except that he didn’t really have anyone else to ask.

He needed someone unfamiliar to Bucky and un-threatening in general. Darcy was both those things. He just had to trust Thor’s recommendation that she could handle this sensitive situation.

“Just keep your head up and your eyes moving, and remember, I only want to check on him, make sure he’s taking care of himself and not injured or anything. There’s no need to draw his attention or put yourself on his radar. I don’t think he’s dangerous to civilians, but if he notices you watching he might think you’re from HYDRA or…”

Darcy cut the rambling captain off again. “Yeah, no worries, Cap, you explained all of this in the briefing. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.”

Steve’s eyebrows drew tight over his eyes in repressed surprise and confusion.

Darcy noticed his expression and giggled nervously. “Okay, technically, this is the first time I’ve done the whole ‘official undercover reconnaissance’ thing, but this is far from the first time I’ve stalked a guy without tipping him off to my attention.”

“Uh…” Steve gaped, a bit at a loss for how to respond. “I just don’t want you to put yourself in unnecessary danger.” He finished lamely.

“Got it. Well, just in case, I’ve got my Taser. If he gets fresh, I’ll light him up like a seasonally decorated pine tree.” Her grin could only be described as cheerfully menacing.

Steve recognized that she was mostly giving him a hard time, though he was sure she did have her Taser secreted somewhere on her person, under her many layers of winter wear. Still, his head started to fill up with images of all the many ways that this could go badly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes against the horrific mental film reel. “Maybe this is a bad idea…”

“What!? No way, Cap. You already dragged me out here to the wilds of Brooklyn on a dark and rainy Christmas Eve. I’m doing this thing. It’ll be fine. You just need to relax. Your super spysassin friend can probably sense your up-tightness from a mile away.”

“It would probably help me relax if you could at least pretend to take this seriously,” Steve growled out in irritation. It was the first time Darcy had ever seen even a crack in his uber-polite mask of professionalism.

She sighed and let her face shift to sympathetic concern. She reached up and grabbed his shoulders forcing him to look her in the eyes.

“Steve! I’m sorry, okay. I get it. This is really important to you. He’s really important to you, and since you’re really important to the rest of us, you can trust me. I’m not going to screw this up, okay? I just get a little loopy when I’m nervous, so, sorry for that. I’m good now, see? Serious face activated.”

Darcy gave him her best Son of Coul impression.

He didn’t think her making that face was the reason why, but he found himself feeling somewhat reassured in spite of himself.

“Thanks. And I’m sorry, I am up tight. This is just…”

“It’s a big deal. Copy that, Cap.”

Darcy gave the stern-faced man one last pat on the curve of his shoulder and a reassuring smile, and then she turned to open the door in the back of the van. “Wish me luck, Cap?”

“Good luck,” he whispered solemnly, then attempted to return her reassuring smile.

She gave a little half wave, climbed out onto the shiny, wet pavement, and shut the door behind her.

Darcy had never been a spy. She wasn’t a terribly good liar, either. She had, however, played all the supporting actress roles (think leading lady’s best friend and/or the comic relief) in every high school play since her sophomore year, and placed 1st in dramatic monologue and 2nd with her duet partner Manny Vargas at state her senior year with the speech team.

She took a calming, centering breath and put on her character.

For this evening’s performance, Darcy Lewis would be playing the role of ‘semi-bored, going through the holiday motions to stave off seasonal depressive disorder, single for Christmas three years running and pretending not to hate it, white girl from Brooklyn’.

She’d had a drama teacher once tell her to draw on things she knew personally to help bring out the truth of each character. So, that’s what she was doing. Her acting skills were really only necessary for the 'from Brooklyn’ part. She’d never actually been here, before tonight, though Steve had gone over maps of the area for hours with her the day before.

She suspected she could find the church from her current location with a blindfold on and both hands tied behind her back. Although, that would be dangerous, so she wasn’t going to attempt it, what with holiday traffic and whatnot. Still, she knew she wouldn’t have any trouble finding her way around.

She walked purposefully down the street, but slowly enough that she didn’t look rushed or draw undue attention to herself. Steve and the surveillance crew had dropped her off almost a mile away from the church where she was hopefully going to make visual contact with the winter wonder-man, but she’d worn her good walking boots, so the distance wasn’t really an issue. What was an issue was the nearly freezing rain that was drizzling from the sky.

She pulled her umbrella from her purse, pulled her hat down around her ears, her scarf up around her chin and kept going.

20 minutes later she rounded a corner and could see the spires of the old church over the rooftops of a narrow row of townhouses and the skeletal remains of the streets many deciduous trees. She personally thought the trees would have looked much more festive with a string of lights decking each bare branch, but she supposed that was impractical. People in her home town tended to go overboard and put holiday decorations on everything but the stop signs and traffic lights, so maybe she was biased.

As Darcy got closer, she began running her eyes back and forth over every shadow and likely hiding place, trying to be as subtle as possible. There were a few people out on the street tonight, but not as many as she’d feared. Apparently, the weather was keeping people inside. All the better for her, she figured, though she kind of wished she was inside, curled up with a peppermint hot cocoa and a classic Christmas movie- like Die Hard or Reindeer Games. 

She looked both ways before stepping off the curb and crossing the street towards the church. It was on the corner with a stone and wrought iron fence around the outside. Across a large stretch of fence was a plastic banner announcing their holiday service hours.

There had been a family thing at 4, which she figured would be over by now, and a music festival/choir thing at 10 which wasn’t for a couple hours. She reached the gate and turned in, following a long sidewalk down the side of the large red-grey sandstone building.

Near to where the church doors were, a smallish courtyard opened up, with several benches ringing the area which was probably very lovely during the warmer, greener times of year. She was just considering the best place to sit and wait when she spotted him.

He was parked on one of the benches, farthest from the door, his head bowed slightly over his hands, which were folded in front of him. The rain was pouring down over his hair and dripping off the soaked strands onto his shoulders and chest and thighs. He was positively drenched.

She didn’t think she’d ever seen a sadder sight on Christmas Eve.

She turned and walked back to the fence, her heart pounding and her adrenal glands working overtime. She’d seen him. That was what Steve wanted, right? For her to see him so he’d know that he was okay? Except he didn’t really seem okay to her. Physically, maybe, she hadn’t really taken the time to look that closely, but her first impression from her quick little glimpse had defiantly been “Depressed and Homeless Vet.” Which she supposed was probably super accurate.

The layout of the churchyard made it impossible for her to observe him without being super obvious about it. Captain Rogers would probably just want her to leave. She should leave.

Except… she didn’t think she could leave him just sitting there in the rain and looking like he’d just found out everyone he’d ever known or loved was killed. Though come to think of it, that was actually pretty close to the truth, too.

Damn it.

She couldn’t just leave him.

She started whispering, knowing that Steve would be able to hear every word, though he wouldn’t be able to respond. She wasn’t wearing an earpiece because they weren’t sure about Barnes’ super hearing abilities.

“Okay, Captain, don’t freak out, okay? Just sit tight and stay where you are and I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Unless he actually attacks me or gets all violent. Then do worry and come save me. Or if I use my safe word. Which is Snoopy, FYI.” She’d reached the fence and turned back around once more.

“Okay, Lewis,” she muttered to herself, “You can do this.” Hell, he’d probably seen her and taken off already anyway, right? He was still there, though, head still bowed and dripping rainwater like a lost little puppy left out in the storm.

She walked fairly slowly, making her destination obvious and none of her moves were sudden. When she reached his bench, she sat down and angled her umbrella so that it covered as much of him as she could without leaning over him.

He hadn’t moved from his spot, but it was pretty much a given that he knew she was there.

“That is a seriously epic brood you have going on there, dude, which I can appreciate, but I’m worried you might scare away any nice, church-going folk that wander by,” she said after a moment of tense silence, keeping her voice bright and light. She’d never really done well with silence.

She heard a soft snort and saw his eyes turn towards her, peeking through his hair. “Figured Rogers would send a stranger and a civilian. Didn’t count on you being a pretty dame, though.”

“Yeah, well, he figured I had a better chance of getting closer to you, since I’m all ‘not a threat’ and all,” she shrugged, trying not to look too closely at the pretty part. “You should tell him all about how you aren’t going to do anything to hurt me, though, so he doesn’t decide to make with the bull/china shop routine.”

He looks over at her, narrowing his eyes at her face before leaning around to look her right in the face. Or the video surveillance glasses, whatever. “Its fine, punk. As long as you stay clear, I’m content to just sit for a bit.”

“Cool,” she said with a smile and relaxed some of the bunched up muscles in her shoulders and back.

He nodded, leaning back, and they sat in silence for another minute or so. She was trying to think of something else to say when he asked, “You his girl?”

That shocked her enough to have her barking out a sudden laugh. “Uh, no. All the no. I barely know him. I’m a friend of a friend kind of acquaintance. Actually, between you and me,” she said, voice lowered and leaning a bit closer, “I don’t think Captain Rogers likes me very much.”

He snorted again. “He always look kind of constipated and/or confused when you’re around and constantly say the wrong thing?”

She shrugs again. “Close enough, though I think I’m the one who’s always saying the wrong thing around him. I’m too much about the verbal shock and awe. I think I make him uneasy.”

“I wouldn’t take it too personally. Stevie never was much when it came to talking to women, especially not a gorgeous gal, like you.” He said it so casually, like it was just the facts.

Just the facts, ma’am.

“Uh, thanks?” she said and uncrossed and re-crossed her ankles underneath her. “I reserve the right to call bullshit, though, pending further social interaction.”

“Fair enough,” he muttered and went back to looking at his hands.

Another moment of silence passed, though the tension seemed to have eased somewhat, sliding from fraught into merely awkward.

“So, I have to think, what with you just sitting here, exactly where the good Captain expected you to be, that a part of you wanted to get caught. You thinking about granting the guy’s Christmas wish and coming in from the cold? Literally and figuratively?”

“Nah,” he said, sitting back and slouching a bit on the bench. “I figure if I let him catch sight of me, still free and mostly whole, every once in a while he doesn’t chase me quite so hard. Call it a compromise of sorts.”

“He gets to know you’re sort of safe and you get some breathing room. I get it,” she said, shifting the umbrella to cover them both better.  “Makes sense to me. That way you don’t have to be the one to deal with the guys disappointed puppy eyes. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“You make him sound like such a chore,” he said with a little bit of a smirk on one corner of his mouth.  “Why’d you agree to help then, if it’s such a bother?”

“It’s not that much of a bother. Besides, telling Captain America no is not a super power I possess. I was sort of his last resort, anyway. Everyone else he knows is either highly recognizable or highly dangerous, or both. Also, I didn’t have any plans and this sounded fun,” Darcy declared dryly, hoping she sounded more optimistic than sarcastic.

When he raised an eyebrow and nodded at the stream of rainwater pouring down the edge of the umbrella and onto her shoulder she figured she’d failed to convince. She gave another shrug. “I’ve had worse Christmas Eve’s.”

He just shook his head and looked disgusted with the world. “Stevie should have offered to take you out, dancin’ or something fun, instead of sending you in to check up on me.”

 Darcy laughed a little at the image of her and Steven Rogers at a club, grinding on the dance floor. “That would definitely have ended in tears, maybe even bloodshed. Though, I would pay money to see the Captain’s face when he’s introduced to what passes for dancing now-a-days.” She held onto the mental image and smiled into the rain. “Trust me, I think this is the much better option.”

“Hey, I ain’t complaining,” he said with a bit of a flirty smirk and she could see, under all the hair and baggage the handsome, charismatic man he’d been before.  “I feel like I certainly got the better end of the deal.” 

Inside the church the organ began playing ‘O Holy Night,’ the sounds muffled, but still distinct enough to make out, and Darcy found herself relaxing even more and maybe even enjoying herself a bit, though her face was cold and her nose was probably doing its best Rudolf impression.

They sat in an almost companionable silence for a few more minutes before she noticed the temperature had dropped enough for her to see her breath and the rain was looking more like sleet then rain. She snuggled deeper into her coat and realized that, with his soaked through clothes and all that it was a miracle he wasn’t shivering visibly.

She made a spur of the moment call and unwound her scarf from her neck and pulled off her hat. They were grey and navy stripped and black, respectively and she figured they were manly enough to suit him. Not that beggars could be choosers or anything.

“Here,” she said and held them out to him.

“No way, doll,” he balked and leaned away. “You put those back on. Don’t want you to catch your death.”

“Nuh- uh,” she argued, shaking her head. “I’m pretty sure you need these more than me. I get to go home after this and take a nice hot bath and curl up and in my bed with a hot chocolate and central heating. Do you have anything like that?”

He hesitated, looking like he was very seriously considering putting up a fight about it, but she put on her stubborn face, the one she used when Jane was shooting for a full 24 hours in the lab, and was pleased to see him caving.

She shook the knitted items at him again and he finally took them from her. “Thanks, doll,” he added grudgingly and she smiled in satisfaction.

“You are welcome,” she replied cheerfully as she watched him pull the hat on over his still soggy hair and wrap the scarf around his neck. “I have lots more at home, so don’t think you’re putting me out or anything. My nana is a knitting freak. She’s always sending more stuff then I could possibly even wear.”

He nodded again and tucked his hands in his pockets and hunched in on himself a bit. She was afraid she’d crossed some unspoken line by offering him charity, and now he was closing himself off.

Or maybe he was just cold.

The organ music coming from the church had changed to ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem,’ and she had to fight not to hum along, not that she thought he would mind. It was just sort of an embarrassing thing to do in front of a near stranger.

Given world enough and time, though, she imagined they could be friends.

“So, are you good, though? I mean, since I’ve risked the Captain’s wrath and approached you even though he told me specifically not to; I figure I shouldn’t waste this opportunity.”

He gave her an old, mildly confused look and she rambled on. “What I mean is: is there anything you need that I can get for you on short notice? Or is there any message you’d like passed on to your buddy. He’s sort of a captive audience at this point, so you might as well.”

While he considered that, Darcy noticed a group of people coming up the sidewalk, choir members, she guessed, if the churchy looking robes poking out from under their coats were any indication. A couple of them glanced briefly to where the two of them sat, but mostly they just walked up the stairs and into the church. The music got louder while the door was opened and it made her Christmas spirit, which was usually half a sleep, perk up and start to purr.

“I guess if I could tell him anything it would be… I just want him to know that he doesn’t need to keep coming after me. I can take care of myself, and it would be nice, for a change if I didn’t have to dodge him and whatever’s left of Hydra. I just want some space, like you said. I just need some peace and quiet to get my head on right and then… I don’t know. Then we’ll see, I guess.”

His voice was steady, though his speech faltered a bit in a couple places. When he was silent again for two whole minutes she figured that meant that was it.

“Think there’s any chance he’ll listen?” he asked, turning to eye her and letting his mouth hitch up at the corner again.

“Honestly?” she asked, eyebrows shooting up and voice jumping and octave, “No, probably not. I mean, he might give you a few weeks head start, but- well, I think you’re too important to him for him to really ever let you go. I get the impression he can be kind of a stubborn ass, like that.”

He snorted again. “You sure you ain’t his girl? Sounds like you know him pretty well to me.”

“Nah, I’m single and ready to mingle, no man can tie me down.” She declared and then internally winced and marveled at her ability to sound both pathetic and perverted at the same time.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, just chuckled lightly and shook his head like he couldn’t believe such a thing was possible- which made her feel very flattered, and quite possibly delusional.

A few more choir people showed up. The music that flooded the courtyard when the door opened this time was ‘O Come All Ye Faithful.’

They’d pretty much exhausted their talking points, but they both seemed reluctant to end the conversation and walk away. After the silence started to drag on and on and more and more people started showing up, he asked her, “You planning on going in?” and nodded towards the church.

“Who me?” she asked, a little startled. “No. My mother was Jewish and my father was Wiccan. I’m pretty sure that qualifies me for instant combustion should I cross the threshold.” It was a joke she’d used in the past to thwart religious pestering, with mixed results. He actually laughed, though, which made her smile back. It was quiet and a bit rusty, but it seemed genuine enough. She was marking it a win.

“What about you?” she queried gently. This place obviously meant enough to him for him to park himself in the freezing rain on Christmas Eve.

He shook his head, though. “I’m pretty sure the same can be said for the world’s most prolific assassin.”

She braved nudging his shoulder gently at his self-deprecation. “I don’t know. Isn’t Christmas all about love and forgiveness for Christians?”

He lifted one shoulder, but didn’t say anything more, and she didn’t push.

“Well, I should probably go soon,” Darcy admitted reluctantly after another lengthy silence. “Captain Rogers is probably getting ready to burst that vein in his forehead, and I’d hate to have his pretty face all purple and bruised for Christmas.” She tried to keep things nice and light with the joke, but in her chest her heart was sinking.

He only nodded and leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees once again. She stood slowly, wavering in her resolve as the rain started pelting him again. She stepped close enough to get her umbrella back over him and he looked up at her.

“Do you have someplace to be tomorrow?” she asked and felt her finger’s tighten on the umbrella’s handle.

“About a 1000 miles from here, at least,” he answered, a bit sadly.

“Is that ‘cause you want to run? Or ‘cause you think you have to?” Darcy inquired; her eyes narrowed, but carried on before he could answer. “Because if it’s really the first one, then that’s one thing, but if it’s the second then- well, maybe you shouldn’t.”

He raised an eyebrow at that and studied her face cautiously. “You got a better idea?” he asked after a second.

“Sure. I mean, I could hang an extra stocking on my fake mantel and fix up an extra mug of cocoa. No patriotic boy scouts allowed. What do you say?” She smiled slyly and held her breath.

She was super nervous all the sudden. She didn’t think she should be this nervous.

When he actually took a moment and looked like he might even be considering it, she felt her pulse jump in her throat. He did eventually shake his head no, and she felt the keen edge of disappointment, though she thought she hid it pretty well.

“Maybe next year, doll,” he said, looking back up at her with a hint of that flirty smirk on his face and she thought it was her own small Christmas miracle that she resisted a swoon.

“I’m gonna hold ya to it, Barnes,” she said and gave him back as good as she got.

“Okay, it’s a date,” he said and winked, actual facts winked at her.

Be still her heart.

“And hey, don’t let the Cap give you a hard time, okay? You’re just a sweet kid doing what you thought was right and being kind to an old hard case. He should take it easy on you, if he knows what’s good for him,” he finished with a mild scowl.

She laughed, pulled off the glasses, and held them in front of her so she could look right into the camera. “You hear that, Cap? I’m not to be trifled with!”  She put them back on after sending what she hoped was a confident smirk to the men in the van and looked back down at her new assassin protector. “Thanks for that. I know he’s all bark, but still. Puppy eyes, Barnes, puppy eyes.”

“I’m familiar,” he said quietly, and a bit sardonically. “Good luck?”

She nodded, “Thanks.”

Darcy new she should turn and leave now, just walk away. Any second now…

“Can I give you a hug goodbye?” she blurted. “I feel like you need a hug, and I think you should let me hug you.”

He looked genuinely shocked for a second, then considered for a painfully long moment before standing and holding out his arms. “I’d have to be a hell of a schmuck to turn down an offer like that from a dish like you.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist then, careful not to smack him with the umbrella and squeezed him tightly. It was cold and his clothes were soaked through and getting her mostly dry coat wetter by the second, but when he lifted his arms and laid them across her shoulders she pressed her face into his slightly moldy smelling jacket and secretly decided it was the best hug she’d ever shared. That was saying something, too, because everyone knew that Thor gave great hug.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky Barnes,” she whispered.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he sighed back.

Darcy released him reluctantly and stepped back. Then, with a final smile, she turned and walked away. She didn’t look back. She figured he’d just be gone anyway, and she didn’t know how that would make her feel. Better just to leave it like that.

She only got a few blocks before the surveillance van pulled up and parked just ahead of her on the street and she braced herself for Cap’s disappointed face.   Mostly empty threats from his ex-hydra assassin, back–from-the-dead bestie aside, she figured she was really in for it.

When the tall, blonde man climbed from the van and approached her, though, all he did was smile at her in wonder. Then, before she could open her mouth and ruin the moment, he reached down and pulled her against his chest in a grateful hug.

“Thanks for taking care of my friend,” Steve whispered into her hair, and that was it.

When he released her and leaned back, holding her at arm’s length and smiling at her she couldn’t help but blurt out the first thing that popped into her head.

“Hallelujah, it’s a Christmas Miracle!”