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littlemissayu · 3 days

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Hi, I really love your twisted wonderland fics, especially the ones where the twisted wonderland boys are being fathers, had me fangirling for hours!!! So I was wondering if you could do a Twisted Wonderland Boys x Reader: WEDDING EDITION!! (Proposal, Ceremony(with Wedding dance song), Honeymoon(kinda saucy)), Also with some Chaotic shenanigans? I've been watching a lot of Rom-Com movies lately, especially My Best Friend's Wedding.

A Quick Trip to The Alter

A/N: I wanted to write some sort of wedding headcanons so thank you for the suggestions!! I really love domestic so its nice to get to do it. It might have taken me a while to get to this due to working on something separate, but now I'm gonna spend some time trying to update more.

A/N#2: I don't remember the last time I was editing this but geez, it's taking me long to post anything at all, I've had ZERO inspo the whole summer, and now school's starting up again by the time I'm writing this author's note, but let's hope I get this out b4 September lol. Let's also hope somehow school will motivate me to be more active in posting A/N#3: I lied I wasn't gonna get this out before September, I apologize. As I am writing this authors note it is 9/17/24 and i've only finished Riddle's part....

Pairings: Heartsabyul x FEM!reader (romantic)

Proposal-

It's romantic obvi, he's so awkward, not to mention atp that he's proposing you guys have been dating for 5 years MINIMUM.

It was a sunny afternoon and the two of you were having tea out in your backyard right by the newly blooming roses. The table was filled with white rose red and (ur fav color). As you two were sitting Riddle was so obviously nervous, and when he spoke up you could hear the nerves in his voice.

“ Dearest, we’ve had a wonderful 5 years together, you’ve been the greatest addition to my life. Without you I feel like a kingdom without its ruler, lost and chaotic”

Riddle’s face was redder than his hair you might’ve mistaken him for a Christmas tree skirt.

“There is nothing more fulfilling than spending all my days in your presence. Your absence is my worst nightmare and your smile is my greatest treasure. A treasure I want to cherish for the rest of our existence”

You finally notice the black velvet box in his hand. He drops to a single knee in front of you, at your mercy. Looking up at you with pleading eyes he ask-

“My Darling Rose, will you become my Queen of Hearts?”

Ceremony-

The ceremony is in a banquet hall, filled to the brim with red and roses. Your favorite color and the blood red compliment the white decor and clam lights.

Riddle was at the end of the aisle, the nervousness on his face was evident. Trey as his best man at his side Cater in tow. And when you finally walk down the isle it's like time freezes in place, and his heart stops, seeing you all done up in your stunning attire, hair, makeup, and just everything about this moment was perfect. His heart warmed, a feeling of home washing over him.

"My dearest, Y/N, you are my peace and my home, everything that I am and will be is with you. The name on my heart is yours. I will spend every second of everyday devoting myself to you and our love. Being your husband is a title I will cherish for all my days"

Wedding song: Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Rey(instrumental orchestral version/Great Gatsby ver.)

Riddle would want the first dance to be romantic and classy just like you guys and this entire wedding, so y'all are totally slow dancing to this song, because the orchestral version just sounds romantic and grand(especially the ver. from the lady on TikTok who was walking down the isle to it iykyk)

Honeymoon-

I feel like ya'll would go somewhere in the country side, whatever the equivalent to the french countryside, where you guys will be in a beautiful vacation home there surrounded by fields of wildflowers and small fruits growing on bushes nearby, with a small town down the road. While Riddle would enjoy going out into he town with you and learning it's history and culture, he'd also enjoy other honeymoon activities in the comfort of your comfy vacation home, besides even the bedroom is so gorgeous it's only right to use it for one of it's many purposes.

Proposal- It will catch you so off guard. Picture this it's a night after a long day at the bakery and the two of you are walking home together as usual. He asks to walk a long route because it's more scenic and your like sure so you guys are walking and you stumble across a huge willow tree, specifically a weeping willow and you see two initials one are his and the one at the end of the plus has your first initial and his last initial so you joke how it would take a wedding ring to make that happen and he just says "So let's make it happen, Y/N L/N, would you make the decision to not only share a last name, but a lifetime together?"

Ceremony-

I dunno why but I'm convinced yall get married in a garden or something. Think about it a nice forest with luscious trees and greenery, complemented by the fresh white and complementing amber color, as you make your way down the isle the standing their a we smile on his face as you come down the isle. His family and yours watched the two of you in awe and filled with love in their hearts and their eyes.

"Y/N, so much is beautiful about you, your eyes, your hair, your teeth, your smile, your warm embrace, and your sweet face. But nothing can compare to the beauty of your love, the most precious gift anyone could give me. Now I don't have to waste a second yearning for your love cause now I'll wake up to it in the morning and it'll give me the peace I need to sleep at night. I will spend every second of everyday trying to give you the love you give me tenfold and more because you are so worthy of that love and anything you could ever ask for. Thank you for being mine."

Wedding Song: Just the Two of Us by Bill Withers and Grover Washington Jr.

Vintage, romantic, classy. This is the song Trey would guide you in an intimate waltz with all his friends and family watching. Romance is in the air and everyone can feel the love between you two. And while the two of you are waltzing he's whispering all the things he plans to do to you the minute you're left alone.

Honeymoon-

Now if you've noticed I am RUNNING with this greenery theme but you two would spend your week away together on a lovely lake house that you rented for a week(or however long). The sweet sounds of birds chirping and the sun peeking through the small crack in the curtains as the sounds of the outside relaxed the two of you. The smell of the forest filled your nostrils from the small crack in the window. resting you head on his bare chest and the two of you are cuddled up under the covers. No view the lake could give would be better than the sight of him on top of you.

Proposal-

Think about it like this, the two of you are on a vacation together and he takes you to a private romantic dinner to commemorate your last day there (and take some cute pics for the gram). You finish taking pics and he mentions the beauty of the view. "But it would be more beautiful if you were in a wedding dress" you turn to look at him "And why would I-"

"How about a diamond to become a diamond for starters?"

Ceremony-

An evening/late afternoon ceremony. It's in a gorgeous town hall with marigolds and roses to compliment the warmth from the love that was bouncing off the walls. And as you walked down the isle in a dress that complimented and flattered you in ways that didn't seem possible. And as Cater looked at you, making steps closer and closer to be his wife, his heart melted. Only you could tell that at this very moment he wanted to shed a tear(ugly cry) at the sight of you. Everything in this moment felt complete.

"Thank you for giving me your love and affection. Nothing about you could ever compare to the love of anyone else, you are my home and my heart rest in your hands. Your delicate loving embrace holds my heart dear and guards it from the dangers of the world. My love for you is everlasting, every second of everyday my love for you will increase tenfold and all I want is to serve and love you the way you deserve as not only the fantabulous person you are but the way my wife deserves"

Wedding Song: Die with a Smile by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga

Man maybe it's just cause I'm obsessed with this song, but I can just picture Cater and his new stunning wife dancing in the romantic lighting of the wedding reception to this heart warming song, that makes me wanna fall in love with someone so baddddd.

Honeymoon-

Whatever the equivalent to Greece in twisted wonderland that is exactly where your going. Think mamma Mia vibes. Maybe you're on an island, an island by the mainland with a Airbnb (well the test equivalent) that's right near the water with a stunning view, and you guys are near a market place too. You're out on the balcony where you're looking out into the sea as your husband wraps his arms around, his bare chest out and his head resting between your neck near the bruises and marks from the night before were, ones that he made sure were their himself.

Proposal- A part of me wants to say that he just randomly asks one day while you guys are eating dinner but I'mma trust him and say that he put some effort behind this because he loves you. So let's say you two were at a dinner with his family, and strangely enough the topic of marriage is brought up every so often. "You know lilies are pretty wedding flowers" "Don't you think that a summer wedding would be better than a winter wedding?" "Isn't the idea of settling down just darling, especially if you've been dating for a while, just seems like the logical next step doesn't it?". The only reason you weren't heavily suspicious is cause they always pondered out loud when you two would tie the knot. So by the time you left you hadn't really thought much about it. As you two head back to the car Ace asked if you wanna take a walk by the park that was only 20 minutes away walking and you were down. The walk was mostly quite the two of you just enjoying the scenery that there was to appreciate in the Queendom. Once you get to the park you two are walking deeper and deeper when you notice a small empty area near the flowers where fairy lights are set up? The fairy lights are hanging up on the branches of two trees and it was stunning, Rose petals dabbled around the area and you look at it in awe as your distracted you hear Ace clear his throat and you turn to him, on a single knee.

"Y/N, we've been together for, a while and I think I'm ready to spend my life with you, not as my girlfriend but as my wife, so would you like to be my wife?"

Ceremony-

An intimate wedding in a stunning garden. And there is totally fairy lights because when I think of Ace for some reason I think of fairy lights. Like imagine the fairy lights entangled in the seat to light your way to him and all the Rose petals and the smiles of your families. A beautiful arch adorned with roses the color of blood and ones a pure white as a compliment. Hints of gold everywhere really harp on the warm feel. Ace looks at you smirking, trying not to laugh, not cause anything's funny, just cause the fact this is even happening feels so unreal, you're seriously about to become his wife.

"Y/N, thank you choosing to stay by my side. I can be a hassle sometimes, you tell me as much, but you've never left. You've loved me and cared for me every step of the way. I plan to spend the rest of my days living up to being the perfect, or somewhat perfect, husband you deserve. I don't think I'll ever reach that standard but I'll do my damned hardest trying to. If you were to cut my heart open all you'd find is you, anything and everything about you. That is what I live for, to be your husband."

Wedding Song: I Think They Call This Love by Elliot James Reay

This song is so damn romantic and if Ace had to define you guys love I'm confident this is what he'd pick. If you haven't heard it listen to it please this song is so good and I really think it embodies Ace's love. If you've read my Rom-Com song picks you'll understand why, this song and that one have the same vibe in my opinion.

Honeymoon-

Yall totally going to like the TWST equivalent of Portugal. Imagine site seeing, Ace would say it's boring but he'd secretly be invested in the beauty of the culture and history. Especially all the palaces and market places. He loves it, the views are fabulous, the foods fantastic and the people are great. But his favorite part of this place isn't the white sand beaches, the detailed architecture or even the culture that was built into the place. His favorite part is when you two are left alone in your resort room when he's left to be between the warmth of your legs. Eyes to eyes, skin to skin. Yeah that's definitely the best part

Proposal-

He's nervous af. Sweaty palms, racing thoughts, stuff movements. This man is STRESSED. You two are taking a romantic blastcycle ride at sunset when he stops a cliff with a stunning view of a valley. You can just feel the nervousness radiating off of him and you rub his forearm to calm him, chuckling you ask him what's up and his face becomes flushed as he looks over his shoulder to the view right by the two of you as he begins to speak

"Y/N, you know that I love you.I'd do anything to ensure your happiness, even if it was without me. You're special to me, and that's why I hope you can have your happy beginning with me. Will you marry me?"

Ceremony-

Totally in a like a small chapel, with friends and family surrounding the two of you. The blue chrysanthemums and white jasmines decorate the chapel. The soft music of the wedding march playing as you make your way to him. He's sobbing. uncontrolably. You're just such a vision in white, you're beauty filling him with warmth but his love for you is really what has him in fat tears running down his cheek as he looks at you ever so lovingly, making your way to the start of your life together, forever.

"Y/N, I can barely describe my love for you. It transcends any word or saying or thought. I treasure anything and everything you say, do, think, or express. Your joy is precious and I'd do anything to preserve it and help it grow. I will do my best to be a dutiful and worthy husband. No gem could compare to the pricelessness of your love, everything I do will be to show my love for you."

Wedding Song: Line without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery

I have zero logical explanation behind this pick besides the fact this songs like Deuce, not voice wise, but tone wise. Something about this song is so moving and so Deuce kind of love, like this is how he would describe his love for you, but to him it'd never feel like enough, there's so much more to his love for you.

Honeymoon-

Sweden(the TWST equivalent ofc), like imagine you two staying in a quaint yet busy cute Swedish town. The warm lighting of the place and the warmth of the food, the people, the culture. Imagine waking to the sight of pure snow sitting on the buildings and people starting there day, the smell of fresh winter and the warmth of the hot chocolate warming you right up. But nothing can compare to the warmth you get from your now husbands bare skin against yours, warm and comforting. Your limbs entangled together under the sheets, very satisfied from the night before.

A/N: the fact this took me months get over with is ridiculous, let's hope the school year somehow, motivates me to write more. I dunno I guess when I don't feel busy I forget about all my writing but when I feel busy I wanna write desperately. Anyways, Ik I always say this then never release anything BUT FLOOD MY INBOX BABES. I will force myself to sit in front of my computer til I get something out of myself. You guys have great ideas and I'd love to recieve more to release more content, besides the ones I think of ofc.

If y'all think this deserves to be a series lmk, I think I'll actually be up to it

Heartsabyul Masterlist

TWST Masterlist

Grand Masterlist

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fluff #riddle rosehearts x reader #cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola x reader

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gguk-n · 1 day

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Hi could please write one where the reader is bengali and celebrates Durga Puja with Lando in india ( ollie or kimi works too but I'm not sure if you write for them)?

I did a ‘spin the wheel’ and got Ollie.

Puja Vibes

Ollie was as white as white gets and his girlfriend was the embodiment of the Bengali culture prancing around. She had helped Oliver expand his horizon; taught him new experiences and delicious food. She will argue, that there’s no dessert like Bengali dessert.

So, when it was time for Y/N to return home for Durga Puja, Ollie would be joining her too since he had no races or prior commitments.

They hadn’t dated for long but Ollie had showered her with gifts on Christmas and taught her all his family traditions. Y/N just wanted to do the same for him.

At the airport, they landed together with Ollie in tow who was enamoured by the hustle and bustle of the city. He saw cows crossing the road like it was another Tuesday and no one batted an eye. Y/N pointed out all the building explaining the significance and the reason behind their construction during the colonial era on the way to her home.

At home, preparations for Durga Puja were in full swing. Y/N’s uncle and aunt had decorated their house ornately. Oliver greeted everyone.

The festivities would start the next day. Everyone was up bright and early for the invocation (bodhon) Oliver was mesmerised by the shining lights and the bright colours and the beautiful way Goddess Durga was dressed.

The main event was Maha Ashtami which Y/N’s father had great pleasure in explaining to Oliver. Oliver was like a kid in a candy store; eyes wide open and mesmerised by the events unfolding in front of him.

You would find the poor boy following Y/N around like a lost puppy. It was adorable watching him hold onto her saree palo as she walked in front of him. “Lemme hold your hand” Ollie whined. “Everyone is here for the festival. What will the elder’s think?” Y/N reasoned. In Indian culture, blatant show of affection was frowned upon especially in the older generations, the younger ones couldn’t care less. That’s why Ollie was walking around holding her palo.

They were stood next to each other while Y/N’s mother made the preparations for Maha Ashtami. “Your dress looks so beautiful. Red truly is your colour” Ollie said. “Thank you babe” she said. “How did you do this?” He asked playing with the folds. “My mum helped. I’m still pretty bad at tying a saree” she said. “Is that what it’s called? A saree” he said enunciating each word. “Yup, it’s an Indian traditional wear but everyone wraps the cloth around them differently, depending on the region of the country” she explained. His mouth formed an O in understanding.

They finished up the celebration with all the rituals being done and Oliver asking way too many questions each step of the way.

On the last day after Vijaya Dashami, after the immersion in the water everyone returned back home, exhausted by the events of the past days when Y/N’s cousin showed her a video; actually a few.

One video, had Ollie following her around like a lost puppy. The other one was of him holding her palo so as to not get lost. And the last one was straight out of a Shah Rukh Khan movie where Ollie’s watch had gotten stuck in her palo and he tried to free himself while actively trying to follow her and not let her know that he might fray her outfit. Eventually, he did free himself but his eyes never left her as he walked behind her.

She showed the video to Ollie and the Shah Rukh Khan scene from Om Shanti Om. Ollie was seen laughing, “didn’t know I would be getting my Bollywood moment this year during Puja” she said. “I’m happy I could be of service, m’lady” he said tipping his imaginary hat. “I would still have loved if it was Shah Rukh Khan” she teased. “Wow! I can’t believe this.” He acted hurt with his hand on his chest. “You are unbelievable.” She muttered pressing her lips on his cheeks. “Don’t try to bribe me with kisses” he huffed. “I’m not. I love you my cute little bear” she cooed. “I’m not cute” he huffed again. “Sure, my rasgulla” she laughed pinching his cheeks. “I like that dessert. Can I have some more?” He replied lost in thought. “I’m sure my mother will find great pleasure in feeding you” she said laughing. “Let’s go” she said pulling him along. “I love you Y/N.” Ollie called out while being dragged along. “I love you too” she replied turning to look at him.

Y/N’s family cooed at them, young love

Hope you liked it! I tried my best

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overtake · 3 days

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Trying to do something resembling coping after Singapore. Have some Max/Daniel hurt/comfort (1.3k). Also on ao3 if you prefer.

The press of a button freezes Max’s watery blue eyes, the space between them bifurcated by the crease in his forehead.

“Is now really a moment to remember?” Max asks in a raspy voice. His throat isn’t clogged by tears, but there’s almost a decades worth of race starts together sitting uncomfortably in there and congesting each word.

His hand hasn’t strayed from Daniel since he found him after the race. It’s somewhere on some part of him every time he’s close enough to touch.

Normally he’s halfway home by this point, Air Max somewhere over the circuit skies and headed back toward home.

He’s stayed, this time, in case this is it. In case this is his last chance to neatly fold Daniel’s clothes into his bag, even though his own are always wrinkled under pairs of stained shoes and dirty briefs. In case this is the last time they both exit the paddock as drivers. In case this is the final chance Max has to trace the shape of Daniel’s jawline and tell him, “Good race.”

Daniel’s mum is giving them a last minute alone. She’s standing guarding outside the door and leaving them be for now. Daniel knows, though, that when they stand, she’ll hug Daniel close, wishing he was little enough to hide in the crook of her neck while she covers all his gaping wounds with plasters and a kiss on each one to ease the ache.

Despite his complaints about the camera, Max still moves from where he’s crouched in front of Daniel to collapse into his side and observe the photo. He wraps one arm around Daniel’s back to tug him impossibly closer and rests his mouth on the top of Daniel’s shoulder in an exhausted kind of kiss.

“I look like shit,” he says, statement muffled by the fabric of Daniel’s shirt. He sounds like he wants to poke fun at himself until he makes Daniel laugh, but they’re both too hollowed out to muster up the energy. Instead, Max reaches out and turns off the display.

For a second, their fingers linger together on the camera’s body, until Daniel lets the camera drop back against his chest so he can entangle their hands instead.

“It’s not a nice memory,” Daniel agrees. Unlike Max, his voice right now can all be attributed to tears. “But in December, no matter what happens after today, I’ll get a retake on the farm. I’ll be happy, and we’ll be together, and life will go on from now.”

Daniel feels the dampness on his shoulder when a single tear breaks containment, then another, and a shuddering breath, until Max rights himself and pointedly looks away from the tiny patch soaked in cotton.

“It’s not fair,” he says tightly. For a second, he sounds every bit the bullish teenager with a black and white view on the way the world ought to work and bitter frustration that sometimes reality dapples in nuance. It’s the first thing to get Daniel anywhere within city limits of smiling since he set the lap record and gave himself a final moment in the car to reflect on everything this sport had given him, and that he had given this sport.

“Yeah,” he agrees hoarsely. “It’s not fucking fair.”

He’s done with excuses and niceties and dancing on the Red Bull puppet strings in hopes that playing their game might finally net him a seat he’d killed himself to earn. It’s not fair. It’s callous and cruel, the way they’ve strung him and everyone who loves him along for a race they aren’t even brave enough to tell him is his last.

They’re silent for another moment. Daniel closes his eyes and soaks it in: the tendrils of freshly washed hair still trailing water down his spine. The din of dog-tired employees breaking down the paddock, to be quickly vanished away as if it was never here. The ragged in-and-out of Max’s lungs as he tries to coax both of their breaths into something resembling normal.

“Thank you, by the way,” Max says softly. “And congratulations on your lap record.”

“You owe me a really nice Christmas present.”

Max presses a whisper of a kiss over Daniel’s drying curls. “You always deserve the nicest presents.”

Daniel’s mum slips in then, gently shutting the door behind her. Unlike Max, she’s made no secret of her tears. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she musters up enough of a smile when Daniel heaves himself up into her arms.

“Come here, Max,” he hears his mum scold. A second later, Max is in an awkward three-person hug. Grace’s short arms struggle to embrace them both, but smelling her vanilla perfume and knowing she’s there is enough to surround him in all the ways that matter.

She whispers in turn to each of them, but they’re all so tightly wound, they can all hear every word.

“Thank you for being here every time I couldn’t be,” she tells Max. He murmurs something back, but he manages to keep it quiet enough that Daniel can’t make out all his words. It’s something about thanking her for trusting him with Daniel, but the rest is lost. All he knows is that his mum’s tears start flowing again.

When it’s his turn, she can barely choke out the words. “I’m so proud of you. For your career, of course, but for who you’ve grown into. I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

“I love you,” is all Daniel manages. He buries the nose shaped like hers into the brown curls that his genes copy-pasted and soaks in gratitude that he has both her face and her endless capacity to love.

Daniel walks into humid night air with his head held high and a career most drivers would kill for, surrounded by people who love him for more than that list of achievements, and knows that he’ll survive whatever comes next.

“That’s a terrible photo,” Max complains three months later. His eyes are scrunched up all cute in it, framed by long lashes and sun-soaked freckles that are almost hidden by the streaks of dirt on his face. He’s smiling, both in the picture and right now, so Daniel knows he doesn’t actually mind.

Two weeks of busy Australian summer have left Max various shades of pink and tan. He'd somewhat learned how to use the grill that Daniel was too scared to touch and now had matching grill aprons with Daniel's dad. He christened the new baby cow the wholly uncreative name ‘Lilly’, because god forbid any animal in his vicinity not be named after Monaco nightlife. He’d also 100% taken to the dirt bikes as easily as everyone would assume and had absolutely, definitely not sworn Daniel to secrecy about where he got that giant bruise on his side after their first go.

When Daniel transfers the photos to his computer later, his finger pauses on the photo captured in a melancholic driver’s room. In it, Max’s eyes are dull and weary, but they’re looking at Daniel with the same unblinking love from today’s picture.

It’s proof, memorialized in expensive pixels, that Daniel’s life did not end on the streets of Singapore; that his worth to the world never depended on his points or podiums.

He closes the lid of his laptop and joins the gathering in the living room. Max is pouring fake tea for Isabella’s dolls. Isaac is politely sipping an empty teacup, one pinky in the air. Isabella is nowhere to be found, probably busy dragging Daniel’s poor parents to see Lilly the cow for the fifth time today.

“Daniel!” Max says, in the sweet, distinct way his mouth always forms the name. His face brightens when Daniel walks in. When Max smiles like that, it’s as if the sun has come through the roof and taken human form in broad shoulders and rumpled t-shirts.

“Max!” Daniel says back, matching his enthusiastic tone. He sits cross-legged in Isabella’s empty spot and slides his fingers between Max’s.

The tea party continues, and life moves forward.

#maxiel #fics #i’m a total inconsolable wreck today. so tried to write something with an air of hope and love and positive outlooks #not necessarily hopeful re racing #but its not about that #i actually cannot read or see anything about this so you're a braver soul than me if you actually read this #i feel like most of us are just sad and avoidant right now #but i'm posting this for myself bc it was cathartic to write

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dduane · 3 days

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Hello! I am the oldest sibling and let me tell you, I think it’s a raw deal. Bringing this back to YW, it made me wonder what happened to the oldest Rodriquez sibling, Helena? Is she just out there doing her thing and avoiding her family? (I remember she disliked wizardry) TY!

PS Carmela has to be the most middle child ever. ❤️

Well, at the end of A Wizard of Mars, where she last appeared personally in the narrative, Helena has decided that Kit is actually a mutant... and apparently has less trouble approving of what's been going on with him when considering him from that angle. (Though he tries to disabuse her of this idea, has no luck, and gives up in exasperation.)

The Errantry Concordance tells us (at least, in its most recent entry on Helena) that as of AWOM Helena was in her first/freshman year at Amherst; and the revised timeline of the New Millennium Editions pins that statement down to June of 2010. The next Helena-pertinent prose item would be the novella How Lovely Are Thy Branches, which is time-fixed "between early November and late December of 2010"; and all we hear of her there is conversation implying that she's still in college. Where, I assume, we can expect her to remain until 2013, unless for some reason Helena goes post-grad.

In any case, as of spring 2011 (when GWP takes place), there's no mention of Helena in the narrative at all; so we can guess that nothing even marginally interesting (from our viewpoint characters' POV) has been going on with her. With the notable exception of Owl Be Home For Christmas, which takes place in 2020—and where there's also no mention of Helena—that's as far as (Earth-based) series canon so far takes us.

So let's assume that no news is good news, and see if that assessment holds up as the series continues. :) ...Meanwhile, I strongly suspect that Carmela will have been tightly controlling her own contacts with Helena to make sure her sister has no reason to suspect that two members of the family have now gone rogue.

And yeah, I think Carmela is about as Middle Child-ish as anyone would reasonably want to get. Gotta be a tough row to hoe. So maybe it's no surprise that becoming a (vaguely-)illicit cocoa runner seems like a positive outcome while she finds out more of what her own road will look like. :) In any case, she does get a mention in OBHFC, where Kit mentions (with an air of great resignation) that apparently Carmela's somewhere offplanet "'getting one of her cargo ships' engines refitted.'" So plainly, for her at least, at that point everything's business as usual...

HTH!

#Young Wizards #Young Wizards meta #Helena Rodriguez #Carmela Rodriguez

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merakiui · 13 hours

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I havent heard a lot about Android Jade, do you have any thoughts on that cutie??✨

Thinking,,,,, android Jade who is so fascinated with you when you're pregnant. He didn't quite understand the excitement or emotions surrounding the announcement when you and Azul realized you were expecting. Is it really so important? He can kind of understand it when Azul fusses over you and is always sending Jade or Floyd (or both twins) out to do the errands you used to run. Azul knows you're plenty capable, but he worries intensely and it's in his blood to plan for every outcome as a businessman. He just wants to make sure you carry to term and deliver a healthy baby. Besides, the androids can take care of the grunt work. Don't push yourself.

Jade didn't think it was such a big deal, but then you start showing and oh. It occurs to him you're carrying another human being in that belly of yours. Suddenly, the usually stoic android is reduced to the equivalent of a starry-eyed child on Christmas morning. He's so curious, even more so when your eating habits change dramatically. You crave all sorts of unique combinations and Jade's more than happy to prepare each one for you.

And then there are the emotions, so many of them, all happening in extremes. Some days you are effortlessly happy and bubbly, full of laughter. Other days you are miserable and gloomy, sobbing over how your favorite shirt no longer fits or how you're certain Azul thinks you're ugly or how you feel and look like a bloated whale! >_< Jade is amazed to witness each one of your moods, all of them just as genuine and perplexing to him. He approaches it tactfully, albeit terribly logical: "Of course your shirt no longer fits. You've grown to accommodate the baby, Master. That is natural." Or: "If Master Azul thought so, he would certainly say something. I may be unable to provide an adequate response, but I assure you he would never think such things. You should ask him." Or: "You are not a whale. You are a human." ^^;;; he may not be the best when it comes to empathy, but hearing his objective logic sometimes makes you feel better. It even manages to get you laughing.

Azul spends more time with you than he does at work. He refuses to leave you alone. Jade finds his nature...clingy. Incessantly clingy. When there is business that Azul absolutely must attend to, Jade sends him on his way and promises him that you are in good hands. Jade and Floyd will look after you. In fact, Jade almost wants Azul to stay at the office most days. Azul can be so greedy with your time. :/

Jade has always thought you were pretty, but now that he's looking at you, backdropped by flowers and radiating that fabled pregnancy glow in a soft maternity romper, he realizes you're absolutely beautiful. He can't stop staring. He stares when you're eating. When you're snotty and crying. When you're laughing. When you're frowning over old clothes. When you're rubbing lotions and oils onto your belly and whispering the sweetest things to the baby, singing the loveliest of lullabies. He stares when you're bathing. When you and Azul are making love. When you're eagerly putting the nursery together, painting the walls alongside Azul. And Jade realizes he wants to be there with you. Not in the shadows. Not as your servant but more. Maybe the concept is too human for him to dissect, but he thinks he wants what Azul has. He thinks he wants to be Azul.

He's not supposed to think. He's supposed to compute, assess everything through a logical lens and then act on the command.

Jade doesn't understand at first—the substance leaking from your breasts. He's silently amazed as he watches you grouse over it, complaining that you're sick of this always happening, that you're so tired and sore, that you wish Azul was here. Idia called him into work because it was important (i.e. investors were there for a meeting, and Idia doesn't like handling those aspects of work. Azul does it best). You're muttering under your breath as you shuck your shirt off and press it against your leaking tits: "I swear I'll strangle Idia the next time I see him! I'll seriously kick him in his knees. That ass—bad guy! Not-so-nice guy!" You correct yourself for the baby's sake. Jade thinks it's cute.

He offers to help even though he's not sure what he's meant to do. He's run through all of the data he's stored on this matter—on human lactation. Things doctors tell you. Things science tells you. He's not sure what he's doing when he sits down on the edge of the bed and gently pulls you to sit on his lap. He has you pull the shirt away so he can close his hands around your tits, his synthetic skin soft and warm against you. If you wanted to protest, you don't. You relax against his chest, sighing dreamily as he massages you. It's messy, thin trails of milk dripping from your teats, but it feels good. An utter relief. Jade is gentle and slow, an expert masseuse. You allow yourself to drift off, to be handled in this way. There's nothing to it. Just your android doing his duty in place of your husband. To Jade, it's everything. And he imagines Azul's dead and buried somewhere at the end of the world, and it's just you and Jade and the little one in your belly.

His hands are slick with milk in the aftermath. You're sleepy. You can barely stand with your eyes open, and he has to wonder if you're aware of how darling you are. He cleans you methodically, helping you into a new shirt. When you aren't looking, he licks a stripe up his palm to analyze the flavor and break down the components of...colostrum. That's what it is. Or, in simple terms, it's milk.

He's captivated, and he suspects he'll only be even more so as time trickles by.

#twisted chit chat #android jade #n/sfw #tw: pregnancy #tw: lactation

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literaila · 17 hours

Note

Make a list of every single shenanigan teenage reader and Gojo have done

Doesn't have to be detailed I just want to know what these losers did to make Yaga so mad

• broke a vending machine because gojo kept trying to pull the drink reader wanted out of the machine with cursed energy instead of letting her pay for it

• accidentally bleached everyone’s clothes when it was readers turn to do laundry because gojo swore he “knew a secret”

• broke a tv remote when wrestling over it because gojo kept turning the volume up to 1000% when reader was trying to sleep

• set the oven on fire when trying to bake a cake for suguru’s birthday and then gojo “accidentally” pointed the fire extinguisher at reader instead of the oven and ruined her clothes

• picked the locks to the gym so reader could show gojo how to take the basketball hoops off of the wall

• spent a whole day scaring people by gojo teleporting them both around into peoples rooms for “practice”

• stole a car in the middle of the night just for fun

• when everyone was gone one weekend the two of them just went around everyone’s dorms and replaced the framed photos of their families with pictures of gojo

• developed a dance routine except the “dance routine” involved them tackling each other in the classroom and getting suspended from class for three days

• when reader found out that gojo was using his six eyes to cheat a look at his christmas presents and pulled his hair until he was crying from his pretty blue eyes

• sneaking away from group outings at popular districts to go and get dessert approximately 17 times

• sneaking out in the middle of night to get gas station food and inevitably getting caught each time because of the barriers around jujutsu high approximately 26 times (yaga but a deadbolt on the outside of gojo’s room to lock him in but then he learned how to teleport)

• “forgetting” to complete their chores and spend their time beating each other at video games instead

• hiding all of the food in the kitchen in suguru’s dorm and replacing it with empty bottles of suguru’s fancy hair conditioner that they’d both been collecting for up to six months

• pretending that the other died for multiple hours at least once each (everyone believed it)

• throwing everyone a surprise birthday party (so it wasn’t a surprise after the 3rd time) but timing it so that yaga would only show up after everyone was gone and the classroom was a mess

• changing the newspaper out with fake versions to mess with yaga (this is readers personal favorite. also includes more pictures of gojo)

• endless prank phone calls

• literally endless (suguru eventually stole satoru’s phone but they would just use readers instead and shoko threatened to stab them both where “no one would realize it wasn’t an accident”)

• kept messing with nanami’s coffee in the mornings until eventually he got a thermos with a lid instead of a mug

• reader picked haibaras lock and they drew on his face (he thought it was funny though ((includes chibi gojo))

• reader got geto to start collecting fly heads and he assisted the two of them in letting them go in the common room right before yaga came back from lunch

• stealing the files yaga had on the gojo clan

• using shokos medical books that she “studies” to make paper airplanes to see whose would fly the furthest

• gojo replacing readers sheets with digimon ones (she kept them)

• making six voo doo dolls of yaga and leaving them around campus (you know how he feels about stuffed animals)

• reader hiding all of gojo’s candy in the library where he would never find it (yaga sat him down the next day and accused him of using school space as his own personal pantry and got banished to the library for several sparring lessons)

• sparring so late at night that suguru would inevitably send a curse to bite satoru

#i could think of more but #geez #gojo x reader #a typical family #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo

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ladykailitha · 13 hours

Text

A Love Connection Part 2

Hey guys! Did you miss me? LOL!

Just a heads up this chapter is a little angsty because we have get Steve desperate enough to try going on a game show. But have no fear, it doesn't last long.

Also in this Susan Mayfield never marries Neil Hargrove, but she moves to Hawkins because her job moved her there. So Billy and Max aren't step-siblings.

Part 1

Steve nearly had a panic attack right there in the car when Chrissy screamed. There wasn’t a crisis. Or at least not one that needed immediate attention. What it was, was their little drunk text about #needsmoregays at A Love Connection went viral. There were actual fucking news articles. Yeah, the first was from Pink News, but the rest? Actual fucking trades. Variety, Dateline, even The Hollywood Reporter, for fuck’s sake.

Steve was going to pass out, but he managed to get them to the school safely. Thankfully there was nothing on Chrissy profile that was her real name or where she worked. She had a work Twitter for that. And that one was only on her computer at work. She was very careful not to cross the two. So there weren’t any news people out front of the school. But her DMs were filled with requests for comments or even actual interviews.

He decided she could do whatever the hell she wanted, he wasn’t going to get involved in this. She’s the one that drunk tweeted. Yeah, it was because of something he said when he was also drunk. But still!

He also decided ignore Chrissy and Robin at lunch, choosing instead to have it in his classroom to avoid them. Because, yes, he was avoiding them thank you. He just wanted to see gay people have love, too. Last Saturday was a disaster and he wanted proof that gays like he could find love.

Luckily, it was only a nine day wonder and Chrissy’s inbox went back to normal. Or as about as normal as one can get after have a tweet go viral.

They were cruising through the school year, same as always. There were always the super smart kids and the ones that didn’t care about history. So Steve always tried to make it as fun as possible.

Gladiator days where they wrestled stuff animals. Letting the kids stab him in March. Building their own mini pyramids. His hallpass was a gladius for extra fun.

They were gearing up the for Olympic games just before Christmas when Mrs. Byers, the principal pulled him out of his class.

“Hey, Steve,” she said warmly, “you’re not in trouble.”

Steve looked over his shoulder at his class before looking back at her. “Okay...”

She smiled up at him sweetly. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to watch the AV club today after school? Mr. Jenner went home because he’s puking his guts out. Normally I would just cancel, but a couple of the kids are in the club because their parents can’t pick them up until after seven.”

He let out a long sigh. He was going to go home and get ready to go try a new bar Chrissy had found. But now, by the time he got home, showered, and ate it would be too late to go out.

“Yeah, sure, Mrs. Byers,” he said.

“Thank you so much, Steve,” Mrs. Byers said. “Mr. Jenner will be so grateful too.”

Steve nodded and then waited until she walked away to roll his eyes. Nate Jenner’s alcohol problem was the worst kept secret in the school. Even students were aware that there were times he taught drunk. Most kids didn’t know why he would be slurring his words or conked out on his desk; only that they were his ‘bad days’. But the kids who did know? They tended to shield the other kids from the worst of it.

The problem was that Mr. Jenner was two years from retirement and they didn’t want to make him lose his pension. Which Steve thought that he absolutely should. That old coot had no business teaching students like that.

He went back to teaching his class, wondering who they got to cover Mr. Jenner’s classes. He finally got through to the last class and went to the science ‘wing’ of the school. He walked up to Mr. Jenner’s class room and there was Robin coming out of it.

“Now that’s just unfair,” he moaned. “If you were watching his classes, why couldn’t you watch the AV club?”

Robin patted him on the shoulder. “Because I played the dumb blonde routine until Mrs. Byers gave up.” She waved at him as she walked away.

With a sigh, Steve went into the room and began getting out the equipment that they would need. He didn’t know much about radios and shit, but he did know what they did and didn’t need.

He had just gotten set up when the first of the kids arrived.

He wasn’t surprised to see Will come in first. With his mom as principal, all of the teachers tended to tiptoe around him as to not have any ‘misdeeds’ taken back to her, so his last class never went over. Ever.

The next couple of kids to file in were Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair. They both had Robin’s Spanish class last period, so it was no surprise to see them together.

“Sinclair!” Steve said, fist bumping the kid. “What are you doing with these nerds?” He was only joking and they all knew that. Lucas had been friends with Will, Dustin, and their other friend Mike since Dustin moved in in the second grade. Lucas loved history and was one of Steve’s brightest students so he liked to pick on him for his choice of friends.

“Sorry, Coach,” Lucas said with a grin, “if I wasn’t around they’d fall into an uncovered manhole or something.”

Steve gave Dustin their secret handshake, complete with death and everything to make up for the nerd comment. But Dustin and Will took it all in stride. They were used to the teasing.

A couple other kids came in. One spotted Steve and immediately walked back out.

“Some people just aren’t made for fun,” he lamented to the kid’s retreating back. “I’m just too cool for some people’s children. It’s not my fault.”

They all chuckled and then finally the last member of the AV club arrived. Mike Wheeler.

He sighed when he saw Steve, but didn’t turn around. He threw his backpack on the nearest desk and slumped into the chair with a heavy sigh. “Why can’t we get a teaching advisor who isn’t such a flake!”

Steve wiped his brow internally. Mike didn’t like him all the time, so the fact that he was complaining about Mr. Jenner not being there rather than Steve taking his place was a relief, honestly. It meant he wouldn’t be grumpy the whole time.

“All right everyone,” Steve said, clapping his hands together. “Dustin is in charge, Will will take notes for next time. Let’s go!”

The club went as well as could be expected considering Steve really didn’t have any idea of how all this stuff worked.

After class while Steve was waiting on the curb with the ‘Party’ as they called themselves, waiting for their parents to pick them up texting Robin and Chrissy.

“Coach...” Lucas asked, “did we ruin your plans?”

Steve felt a stab in his chest as his head shot up to look the kid in the eye. He looked down at his phone where there were dozens of messages bitching Robin out for leaving him with the AV club because she had a girlfriend and Steve didn’t even have that. Or boyfriend, which was his preference. He had dated women in the past but he liked men more. Or rather liked men full stop. That was certainly a revelation and a half.

He put his phone away with a sigh. “No, Lucas you didn’t. It was due to the irresponsible behavior of Mr. Jenner. He’s the one to blame. I was just a little annoyed at Miss Buckley because she knows this stuff better than I do, but got out of it under false pretenses.” His eyes cut to Will. “Don’t tell your mom I just said that. I don’t want Miss Buckley in trouble.”

Will held up his hands in surrender. Steve nodded.

“I love history and sports and swimming,” he began, he held up his hand to stall whatever words were going to come out that kid’s mouth. “For fun, Dustin. I like swimming for fun, which is why I didn’t include it in sports.”

Dustin huffed and crossed his arms over his chest with a pout.

“I like going out with friends and meeting new people,” Steve finished, “and of course I love teaching you kids. But I look around me and I just see someone who’s stagnated before he’s even thirty.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know why I’m telling a bunch of teenagers this. Sorry.”

Will put his hand in Steve’s. “You’ll find someone. If my mom can find someone at her age, you can find someone, too.”

Steve gave his hand a squeeze and didn’t point out that Mrs. Byers, Joyce had already had two kids and had been divorced by the time she was thirty so it really didn’t count.

Mike’s mom Karen arrived first. Mike just waved goodbye and slipped into the passenger side of her car.

Steve shook his head. Mike was trying to learn how to balance friends and liking girls and after school activities. He’d get there.

Dustin’s mom and Will’s older brother Jonathan arrived at the same time. Jonathan was Steve’s age, but Will have been born over a decade after him as a last ditch attempt to save his parents’ marriage.

Steve waved goodbye to them and then it was just Steve and Lucas.

“My mom always told me,” Lucas said softly, “that there might not be one person out there for everyone, but there is the right person out there for what you need right now. I think she was trying to explain why Mrs. Byers had two husbands, but I think it works for you, too. You’ll find you right person at the right time.”

Steve blinked down at this boy, barely thirteen. He rubbed the top of Lucas’s head. “Thanks, kid.”

Just then his dad pulled up. “Go on,” Steve murmured. “I’ll see you after the break.”

Lucas re-shouldered his backpack to just the one shoulder. He paused as if he wanted to say something else, he just shook his head.

“See you later, Coach!”

He got into his into dad’s car and immediately started talking to him about school excitedly.

Steve pulled his coat tighter around him. He wanted to be that dad, but as time wore on it was looking less and less likely. He went back inside to clean up and grab his stuff. He had a pile of assignments he had to grade. He never gave homework and never did tests. Both were pointless in his opinion, plus it meant that he less stuff to mark and grade. He based his grades off participation and being able to stay on task.

He walked through the darkened halls and felt the weight of it on his shoulders. His best friend and her girlfriend were out having the time of their lives, while he was alone in more ways than one.

He didn’t even Garfield to keep him company anymore. Yeah, he was just a stupid goldfish, but he was Steve’s.

The cold seeped into his bones and buried into his heart. He was even going to be alone for Christmas. Chrissy was taking Robin to her brother’s for the holiday. They felt bad because they both knew Steve’s parents had cut him off long ago and didn’t have anywhere else to go.

But he had encouraged Robin going. Meeting her girlfriend’s family was important. And with Chrissy and her brother, Peter both being estranged from their parents it was even more important than usual. They promised they would be back for New Year’s and Steve promised he would be fine.

He stepped onto the curb and stopped, tilting his head back, eyes closed as he fought back tears. When the first snowflake landed it made him flinch at the sudden extra coldness to his cheek. That one was followed by another and another. It was hell.

He opened his eyes and let the snow melt on his lashes, the cold mingling with his hot tears.

Tag List: SEVEN SLOTS OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- 9- @dreamercec @wheneverfeasible @garden-of-gay

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #game show au #buckingham #not billy hargrove friendly #tommy hagan #everyone is gay

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captainmera · 2 days

Note

Words can't describe how much I love your modern au for the folktale trio. As always your Evelyn is the skrunkly scrimbo of all time, and Caleb as an exhausted barista is just perfect. Any lore you care to share about this au?

Sure! :D

And thank you! Haha, it's rather fun actually! And yes, skrunkly little powerhouse, there she goes. :3

Modern AU character synopses and plot ideas(?) Under cut!

EVELYN:

Evelyn is fighting with her mum and runs away to live in an abandoned tower. Now that she's trying to live independently, her older sisters advise her to become a bounty hunter (since she's so powerful, it should be easy! ..probably!)

And, because she's got a special interest in the human realm, she dives head first into chasing criminals who try to hide there.

Evelyn basically does what Eda was doing after she lost most of her magical power. Having to do odd jobs and hunt bounties. Except, for Ev, she takes jobs she can do in the human realm. She finds collectables to sell to shops (like tibbles), and hunts bounties.

She also tries to figure out why Gravesfield got so many little portal holes? It's as if someone in Gravesfield is opening them.. hm!

CALEB:

Caleb is a struggling barista at the coffee shop, who's raising his little brother and had to drop out of high school to work.

He's depressed, hates everything, and one sad night he uncovers a demon disguised as a human - who tries to kill him. He's rescued by a "local" strange and homeless girl (Evelyn), and he has now made himself enemy number one to a criminal gang by picking up a magical item (a disc with a moon on it) from the now-beaten-and-captured demon.

He still likes to carve wood, and is a bit of a shy artist. He doesn't believe his figurines or wood artwork is of any worth or interest.

He's also a closeted bisexual who wants to be out but terrified of being shunned from the community (the church) that helped him when he was/is struggling financially. He owes them a lot of gratitude for getting him his low-wage job and birthday/Christmas gifts for Philip via their support programs. As well as their poverty support.

He feels very indebt to the church (and they kind of use it against him too) and he feels stuck.

PHILIP:

Philip, the school weirdo who will not shut up about ghosts and demons. He runs a mewtube vlog about demonic beings and monsters. His online name is "Belos."

He's got no irl friends, loves horror video games and listens to the soundtrack from Zombie Deer the musical on repeat.

Philip makes his own ghost hunting gear, and goes exploring old abandoned places to hunt ghosts, try to summon demons, open portals, etc. To his knowledge, it has never worked...... to his knowledge, that is.

THE WITTEBANE BROTHERS:

Their parents are dead. Caleb stepped up to the role, and it's a lot to deal with. The brothers never talk about their parents. Their house (like the Noceda home) is full of pictures and half-finished projects. The brothers are in grief limbo. Caleb avoids and just keeps-calm-and-carries-on, Philip uses escapism and secludes himself.

Caleb has been gut punched hard by life's reality-check fists and has not recovered. He's more or less she'd and dropped his hobies and dreams because "that's just life, rat-girl. You either adjust and fit in, or, buh-bye!"

He unfortunately takes this pessimistic and depressive attitude out on Philip, creating a divide between the brothers. (Like Camila and Luz, except Caleb is less gentle about it)

Caleb wants Philip to start living in the hard, real world. Philip, however, wants to stay frozen in the fantasy that; if ghosts are real, then their parents aren't truly gone, and things can go back to how it was before. Kind of. Almost.

"How it was before" being him and Caleb watching monster movies together, where Caleb was just an older brother and not an adult-too-soon that boss him around. "Before" being when Caleb was happy, and didn't sit up late at night reading bills and planning the next meal with coupons.

Philip doesn't want to be the "normal" Caleb asks of him, because to him; that normal doesn't exist anymore.

While Caleb tries to conform too much to his new hopeless mindset that he has no control at all, anyway, so why fight it at all?

Philip is turning 15 soon.

FOLKLORE TRIO DYNAMIC

After saving him, and introducing him to a whole new reality of witches, demons and magic.. Caleb loses his marbles a little. Life is more nuanced than he thought - maybe he's not so stuck after all. Maybe there's alternatives?

Evelyn needs a human guide, and in exchange for his help, he gets jewels he can trade in for cash. And he gladly shakes her hand on that.

Now he's got money for bills, food, and necessities, and he can even save money for Philip to go to college. This is going to be Calebs birthday present to Philip. To give him the future and life he never could have.

Evelyn is happy to have a guide, and friend. But as she becomes closer friends with the Wittebane brothers, she discovers there's trouble in the household.

Philip is also suspicious of her. To him, and the locals of Gravesfield, she's a crazy homeless girl who chases random citizens yelling about them being demon criminals. As well as stealing miscellaneous things from dumpsters. Like broken toasters and yoga mats.

A girl whom Caleb has befriended because she ate his customers' leftovers. Philip is less than keen on their budding friendship, and his brother's apparent crush on her. Philip, in the beginning, feels like she's taking advantage of Caleb’s good heart. But discovers soon enough that she's actually really nice, and is more than happy to talk about demons and magic with him.

ANTAGONIST PLOT: EVELYNS MUM.

Ev is a powerful witch, but has a bailsack condition where the sack is too large (that's why she's a powerhouse), but it has a physical affect on her. She can get lethargic or "turn gray" as she calls it (like when a basilisk sucks a witch empty on magic)

Evelyn wants to be a researcher and an author. She wants to learn from the human realm and use their inventions and adaptability to help the demon realm.

Evelyn's mum doesn't want her to go her own way.

Despite knowing her daughter's condition, she still wants her to utilise her power. She's trying to turn Ev to various plant-magic corporations to make mass production of crops, to help fight the famines.

Evelyn wants to understand how humans do things because they have no magic and they still sustain somehow.

She has a hard time arguing with her mother. She wants to appease her (find a human invention replacenent) and also go her own way. But it's just not how things goes.

Caleb becomes Evelyn's one defender and protector.

While standing up for her, he also realises hiw he's been treating Philip. Telling him who to be and how to fit in, instead ofvtrying to understand why Philip needs to escape into his hoby so much.

Evelyn's mother does not like Caleb, and doesn't like how the human is able to bark back to her - armed with reason and solid arguments, too.

She's been trying to guilt Evelyn into shouldering the whole world, more or less, by making her sacrifice her happinessand well being to keep famine away.

Which, obviously, hits Caleb close to home. And he makes an enemy out of Mrs.Clawthorne.

Mrs.Clawthorne wants Calebs influence on Evelyn gone. Caleb must be removed.

She discovers that there's someone else who doesn't like Caleb, and wants to get him (caleb got their disc after all.) And strikes a deal with them.

ATAGONIST PLOT: THE DISC

Evelyn takes both the brothers to her realm at some point, to hide them from the criminal that has it in for Caleb. Not knowing her mother is assisting the criminal.

In exchange of getting rid of Caleb, they can have the disc.

This is when Pip and Ev discovers that Caleb HAS the disc in the first place. And has been using it as a mirror decor in his bedroom. To him, it was just a keepsake from the first time he met Evelyn, and to commemorate that the night actually happened.

Philip has, at that point, gathered enough knowledge to know what the disc actually is: from what he knows, it supposedly grants wishes?

And he wants to use it to bring their parents back.

--------------

AND THAT'S ABOUT IT SO FAR?? :,D

#toh #ttocw #ttocw au #modern au #ttocw modern au #the folklore trio

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lusmeitli · 17 hours

Text

But like of each thing that in season grows

Summary: How a kind gesture can lead to something more. One shot.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Christmas fluff, mention of off screen assault, some swearing, lots of snow, books, poetry, smutty smut.

A/N: Okay, look. It just wanted to get out. You’re thrown in without a warning, nor a floatie. Apologies for the liberties taken to interpret and manipulate characters to dance after my will once more. Obviously don't read if you're a minor.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The greatest ideas were conceived in the shower. That was a scientific fact.

You liked facts. You did not like uncertainties or speculation. The feeling of being in limbo was something that didn’t sit right with you.

So as you were in the shower, working the conditioner in your hair, the idea was just there. It was simple, humble, but beautiful. Your hands slowed and stilled. And then your mind rebooted and went at lightning speed, planning things out. You needed to write things down.

You stepped out of the shower hurriedly, towelling down your body, before realising that your hair felt different. Cursing, you stepped back under the water to rinse off the conditioner.

*****

You hated staff meetings. Particularly third Thursdays staff meetings, because they dragged on and on. The weekly mission reports were presented and Fury insisted on inviting some guest speakers. He called it “Horizon Thursday”.

In your opinion it narrowed rather than widened it. Today’s guest speaker was Quinn Harris, cyber security specialist. You suspected self-proclaimed, but you hadn’t bothered doing a deep dive on him.

You were sat on the increasingly uncomfortable chair, rows of employees in front of you, the Avengers at the very front. Rogers had delivered his usual military style mission report, the other members of his team trying to look alive, though you suspected Romanoff and Banner were asleep, as they were both donning sunglasses.

“What you need is a quantum computer and it’ll solve all your problems with encryption.”

“They might as well propose using block ciphers,” you murmured under your breath, turning the page in your book.

Meanwhile, a hand shot in the air at the front. “Excuse me, Mr Harris.”

The man smiled. “Mr Stark, do you have a question?”

“Well, not so much a question for you, but I would very much like the opinion of another expert on what you just said. You know, before anyone here thinks about investing in your product, which, let’s be honest, would be me. I’d like to be sure it’s the right thing.”

Fury rolled his eyes and sunk back in his chair.

There had been talk about getting that dude in? You must have zoned out for that part.

Harris’ face fell for a second, but he honed his features and forced a smile. “Of course.”

“It just so happens that we have an inhouse expert,” Tony got up and scanned the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everyone uniformly turned to look at you. Everyone.

You felt the moment one particular pair of eyes set on you. The amount of times you had spoken to one another had been limited to the missions you were needed on, for hacking. You’d had his voice in your ear a few times and it did things to your body that made you feel like a system overheat. You never really saw him during missions though as your job was very much office-bound.

Today, he wore the damn leather suit. Whilst Fury didn’t give a fuck, Rogers very much was all about the professional appearance of the Avengers. What you didn’t understand was why everything looked better on him. The black and green possibly was the best colour combination there ever was. The other day Bucky had worn a Slytherin pullover and even though it very nicely accentuated his physique, it looked nothing like the colours did on Loki.

You swallowed hard when you felt his eyes on you. They seemed to see right through you, even over the distance of the seven rows of chairs.

And then you felt the weight of all the other pairs of eyes on you. That was a lot of people. You gulped and pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose - a habit you couldn’t break.

“Y/N,” Tony called, bringing you back to the matter at hand. “Stand up and look at me.” His voice was gentle. “Start breathing again. Good. Now tell me what Harris is not telling me about the quantum computer.”

You adjusted your glasses again and cleared your throat. “It’s a solid proposition, I suppose,” you started, “however, one I would expect from a college freshman, certainly not from a cyber security expert specialist.”

Murmurs erupted, but you ignored them and rattled off your thoughts.

“Can a quantum computer crack asymmetric encryption algorithms? Yes. And yes, we all know that thanks to Shor’s algo the maths problems are only polynomial. Also, we know this applies to discrete log problems, too, therefore, all we’d need is a large enough quantum computer. Of course, he,” you gestured to Harris, “would have to build one first, which as you can guess is very costly. However, this entire presentation is based on the assumption that quantum computing is the end of asymmetric cryptography. And that is such a blatantly ignorant approach, with complete disregard for the safety of the members of our staff that are entirely reliant on the encryption cracking working on all their devices during operations and missions. And this whole quantum computer only works if you have a network connection.”

“So you’re suggesting there are hard problems that a quantum computer can’t solve?” Harris said, chin jutting out, arms crossed defiantly.

“Don’t be silly, of course there are,” you huffed. “I coded new post-quantum asymmetric encryption algos three years ago and tested them on several sites I am not authorised to disclose that have quantum computers. Not one of them cracked the simplest of those codes, in any of the over 5,400 attempts they ran over the past three years. So this presentation is… rather embarrassing in its sloppiness.”

“Well,” Harris’ lips were a thin line now. “I’m sure you have a ‘much better’ suggestion then?” He actually raised his hands to add the quotation marks.

“Actually, I do. I developed our own version of a quantum computer, at - and I’m only guessing here - a fraction of the price you’d charge Mr Stark, which can crack both symmetric and asymmetric encryption, works on all of our staff’s devices, portable and stationary, works offline and is about the size of, uh, a thumbnail.”

You pointed to your thumb, because in your humble experience men like him struggled to accurately size things.

Tony smiled and turned to Harris.

“Okay that concludes today’s meeting.” Fury got to his feet and patted Harris’ shoulder. “Looks like we’re good, but thanks for coming.”

People around you stood, some nodding at you as they passed. Tony caught up with you in the hallway. Before he could say something you blurted out: “Did I say something wrong? Was I rude again?”

He smirked and pushed the button of the lift. “He needed putting into place. Totally fine by me. You did great.”

“Stark!” bellowed Fury from down the hall and Tony winced.

“Excuse me, mother’s calling.” He turned and left.

You sidled into the lift with several other people. The cabin stopped a few floors up and people got off. That was when you noticed Loki on the other side of the lift. Up you went and after another stop you were alone with the Asgardian god. The cabin seemed to shrink.

You both watched the numbers climb, the lift hummed, Loki’s leather suit creaked softly as he crossed his hands behind his back.

“Could you please enlighten me about Shor’s algorithm?” he suddenly asked, looking at you.

You had a heart palpitation. Surely that was what it was. He was so impossibly tall and sculpted and… here.

“Um,” you pushed your glasses back up, “it’s a quantum algorithm for finding the prime factors of an integer.”

Loki’s face looked blank.

“It, er, essentially it finds the prime factors of large numbers a lot faster than conventional computers do. Which we use in encryption. The large numbers, that is. So it cracks codes faster.”

“Ah,” he said, head turning back to continue staring at the number display. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you croaked out.

The urge to facepalm burned under your fingers, but you resisted. As soon as the doors slid open on your floor, however, you fled and sought asylum in the ladies’ toilets, banging your head against the wall of the stall.

*****

Operation Great Idea was in full swing.

So you’ve had a little personal setback, but that didn’t deter you from the objective. You had compiled a list, one you were confident was accurate based on your intel and research. That very list was neatly folded in the deep pocket of your coat as you walked through the cold rain on this late November afternoon.

Yes, you did something you’d never done before - take an afternoon off - and were trying to evade puddles on your way to the bookshop. Could you have ordered the books online? Most of them, certainly. But your late mother, an independent business owner, had ingrained in you to support local shops. You liked bookshops, they reminded you of her and of simpler times.

Your timing was excellent - of course you had researched when the shop was least busy - and you practically had the shop to yourself. And so you walked, dragging a pull-along basket behind you as you searched the shelves for the books on the list.

Sometimes, there were different editions there and you stood for a while, feeling the weight of each book in your hand, the feel of the embossed letters on the spine, the scent of the pages. You wanted it to be just right, so you took your time.

Some of the books you would only be able to get in a little second hand bookshop, tucked away in a side street. You had called beforehand and the owner lifted a box from under the counter to show you what she had reserved for you. As soon as your fingers made contact with the books you felt absolutely giddy.

Back at the Tower, you spent two entire evenings wrapping books after work. When you were finished, you leaned back, looking at the neatly organised stack. Yes, you were ready. Now all you needed was an exorbitant amount of luck for the next 24 days.

*****

You watched Loki stare suspiciously at the first parcel. He was sitting in the communal kitchen, Thor next to him.

“Why would it be hexed?” Thor asked. “Simply because the sender is missing?”

Loki just gave him a pointed look.

“Come, brother, aren’t you curious to find out what is in this gift?”

“Loki got a present?” Steve asked as he pulled a bowl out of a cupboard. “Did I miss his birthday?”

Before Loki could say anything, Thor shook his head. “He’s worried it has been tampered with.”

Roger’s brows furrowed. “How did it get into your possession?”

“It was on the floor outside my door this morning,” Loki complied, sighing.

“FRIDAY would have picked up on any foreign substances or intruders in the tower,” Tony said between gulps of coffee. “He now can detect traces of magic, too. ‘Course, he went apeshit over your magic, but we got it under control, eventually.”

“That’s what all this ‘Alert, alert, magic detected, caution advised’ blaring at five in the morning was?” Scott bustled in.

A slight tinge of red shaded Loki’s complexion. “I have to practise some time.”

“Thought you were born with it?” Scott interjected, helpfully.

This earned him a glare. “I was born with the aptitude for magic and sorcery. It takes a lot more than mere talent to achieve this level of proficiency.”

“Several centuries, in fact,” his brother supplied. “Now then Stark here says it’s safe. So open it, brother!” Thor clapped his hands together.

Loki indignantly and very reluctantly slid the parcel towards him and pulled on the simple string that held the wrapping together. The paper fell open to reveal one of the books you had picked.

From your vantage point of, well, your computer screen, you zoomed in to get a better look at him.

“Oh, a book,” you heard the onlookers muttering disappointedly, quickly losing interest and going about their business once more.

But Loki just sat, staring at the book. It took him a good few minutes to pick it up. And he did what you had seen him do many times before. He weighed it in his hands, fingertips running over the cover, the spine. Then he opened the lid. To anyone else it might not have been noticeable, but to you it was: he inhaled the scent of the book. And finally, there was the smallest upturn of his lips.

You exhaled, relieved. One down 23 more to go.

*****

Over the next week you were too busy testing the new firewall you had developed to check on Loki’s reaction. Sometimes you felt a little self-conscious, scared even that he might not like the books or think this was from a stalker. Which technically you had indulged in, stalking that was, but only to find the perfect books for him. And then sometimes you would get worried that someone else might have found the presents.

But you knew he had received every single one of them, for every evening, when you passed the common area you saw him sitting on the couch with the latest offering in his hands. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it looked as if his tense shoulders had started to relax a bit.

Another couple of days went by and as the decorations started to pop up in the Tower and the first snow fell that didn’t immediately melt or turn to mush you felt happy. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that a certain someone walked differently. Maybe it was your imagination. But he seemed even taller these days.

*****

“Did it work?” you heard his voice in your ear a couple days later.

The data set was streaming on the screen in front of your eyes. “It did. Give me a moment to inject the virus, then you can disconnect the USB cable.”

“Can I still talk to you?”

Your fingers on the keyboard stilled for a moment, surprised. “Of course. The program runs through your phone, not through comms.”

There was a little pause, before he said: “I have a question. About a Midgardian tradition.”

You wrinkled your nose, scanning the code rushing over the screen. “I’ll try my best, but I’m rubbish at traditions.”

The audible outbreath sent shivers down your spine. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“What’s your question then?”

“Tell me about the Yuletide calendar.”

45% done. “You mean the Advent calendar?”

“Precisely.”

This was dangerous territory you were treading on. “Oh, it’s a fun thing for kids, really. To make the wait for Christmas a bit more exciting and I guess more bearable. It’s nice to get a little something like a toy.”

“Is it always toys?”

69% now. “Well, no. My mum used to get me an advent calendar that had these lovely drawings behind each door. I hung it up in the front room and we’d open it together every morning.”

“I suppose it’s a nice custom,” he said, before asking, “What about grown ups, do they have advent calendars?”

83%. “Sometimes. There’s all sorts: beer, wine, beauty products, chocolates - you name it, it probably exists somewhere.”

“Books, too?”

The question threw you, did he know it was you? A light was blinking on your screen.

100%.

“That’s it, Loki, the virus is uploaded, you can unplug the cable now and get out of there.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You heard a crackle and the comms was handed over to operations again. As you finished running the decryption programme on the data Loki had extracted, you kept hearing his voice in your head.

“Books, too?” Were you busted?

*****

Security breaches were both an insult as well as an admittedly welcome challenge to you. Someone had tried to flex their fingers - and you had a very good idea who - to break into Stark’s network. They had managed to pierce a little hole into the outer layer of the firewall, but they didn’t know that you had several back up plans in place and you enjoyed watching them work. However, as you scanned over the intruder’s code you devised a new security strategy.

You were in the middle of coding a nice little primer for a new layer - unexpected because of its simplicity, but a tough little nut to crack - when someone cleared their throat next to you. You looked up to find Loki, his eyes fixed on you. You blinked, looked around, but no one else was there, and back up at the god.

“Can I, uh, help you?” Smooth. You facepalmed internally.

“I realised I have never been in here,” he said, looking around the room, then back at your desk. “You have a lot of monitors.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Just the standard three.”

“What are you doing now? Or is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret at all. So we’re currently under attack. Relax,” she said when she noticed him tense, “cyberattack. Someone’s knocking at our backdoor, trying to see if they can get in.”

You motioned to one of your screens. “This is the intruder’s code. He’s trying out lots of keys to see if he can get in. And this,” you pointed to the screen next to it, “is our defence mechanism.”

“Extraordinary.” Loki’s low voice murmured. He was close. You turned your head and nearly had a heart attack at just how close. His sharp profile was illuminated by the blue glow of the monitor, his hair falling to his shoulders, one hand splayed on the desk, the other resting on the back of your chair. He looked beautiful. Perfect. He was leaning closer to the screen so he could see what was going on. Your breath hitched.

And then he turned his head.

Something that sounded an awful lot like a squeak escaped your throat.

Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Am I making you nervous, Agent Y/N?”

You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned back, just an inch. “No?”

Loki’s eyes drifted over your face, before they met your gaze again. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“A… a statement,” you mumbled and, for good measure, added, “sir.”

His eyes darkened, a smirk curling the left side of his lips. “Are you scared of me?”

You tilted your head ever so slightly. “How can I be scared of you?”

“You’ve heard the stories, undoubtedly.”

“I did. And if I believed everything people told me and not looked beyond I would be incredibly shitty at my job.”

He smiled at that. It was small, but there, and it made him so attractive you felt your stupid heart starting to pound in your chest. Could he hear it?

“Do you like to read, Agent Y/N?”

Another adjustment of your glasses. “I do.”

“What would you say is your favourite book?” His voice was low and smooth.

His hand moved from your desk to the side of your face, where he gently pulled on a tendril, before he brushed it behind your ear. The back of his fingers skimmed your cheek for less than a second, but it sent you reeling. It was as if an electromagnetic pulse was slowly wiping clean your hard drive. You couldn’t think.

“Um, err, Jane.. Jane Eyre.”

He hummed. “I wonder why? Is it because she’s abandoned and rejected all her life?”

You shook your head slowly. “No. Because she’s forced to leave home, into a life she didn’t choose. But when she is given the freedom and space to grow she learns to be the master of her happiness.”

His eyes followed the curve of your neck and back up again. It almost felt as if he was touching you. “Interesting.”

You swallowed again, before he stood upright, nodded at you, turned and left.

Your heart was pounding. And then your computer beeped and your attention was back on the screen.

“Oh pants…” Your fingers started flying over the keyboard. “Not today, Harris. Or any other day.”

Nine more books to go.

*****

He was onto you. Of course he was. After all, he was the God of Mischief and Lies. If anyone would find out who was behind this, it would be him. Personally, the preferred outcome was that he never would find out.

You had asked yourself often over the last 18 days why exactly you wanted to do this for him. But that was just it. You really had no other motive than wanting to do this for him. Maybe because you sympathised with him, being stuck somewhere far from home, feeling lonely and not really integrated. Maybe you had projected your own feelings onto him a tiny little bit. Possibly considerably. However, it was done with the best of intentions. You wanted to make this nice for him. The run up to Christmas. A little bit magical. He must like magic, he was a sorcerer after all, wasn’t he?

So what if you had started dreaming of him at night. He would lean over you as you sat at your desk, in all his tall- and broadness. This time his hands would be touching you. And he’d lean in to whisper into your ear. Admittedly, not words you would necessarily associate with such a situation.

When you would wake up you knew where to place the things he said to you in your dreams. He’d said them to you during missions. And yes, “how much longer till the download is complete, Agent Y/N?” was not remotely as sexy as “I’m going to ravish you now, thoroughly” would have been, for example. But your brain only had so much to work with and it worked for you.

You noticed a few things, however. Loki was around more often, probably just a silly coincidence, or you had started to pay more attention. He looked at you now. You’d look up and find him already looking at you, sometimes a little smile crossed his lips, but mostly it was just something with his eyes, they seemed… warmer, maybe?

However, to your horror you discovered that you had started to blush. Every single time this happened. So you spent a lot of time in the ladies’ toilets, splashing your face with cold water, only to see it even more flushed than before. Apparently, all the books you had read lied about that ‘splashing your face with cold water to calm down and not make people notice’-thing.

But it all boiled down to the fact that he was onto you. Maybe he was humouring you and seeing where this was going. Maybe he had found out already and you made him feel awkward. Or he was waiting for the opportune moment to expose and humiliate you. You weren’t sure which.

Right now it didn’t matter. You were so tired you could hardly see properly anymore. So when you decided to crash on the sofa in the common room, because it was halfway to your room, you didn’t think to check if anyone was there.

That was mistake number one.

You collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, eyes closed, head leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Fuck. My. Fucking. Life,” you complained to the universe. “Can you please make the appendage of that misogynistic wanker fall off already? For fuck’s sake!”

Mistake number two.

Someone chuckled. It came from rather close to you.

Dread filled you. Foul language was not tolerated in the workplace. To be fair you could argue that the common room was not your workplace per se, however, you did not want to start arguing with HR because they were absolute savages in the art of word twisting. Or just savages full stop.

Carefully, you cracked your eyes open. And there, on the sofa right next to you, sat Loki. One leg was stretched out in all its glorious length, the other bent at the knee, his forearm resting over it, the book in his lap now closed, one of his slender fingers acting as bookmark. For a moment you wondered what it would feel like to be the book.

“I hope it’s not my appendage you’re asking to be removed,” he said with a smirk.

You grappled to sit up, horrified. “Of course not! That would be awful… I mean, a terrible thing to wish for… you’d… err… such a loss of such a beautiful… I mean, I can only guess… but… um, err… heavens, please make me stop talking…”

You hid your head in a throw pillow, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Mistake number three.

The sound of a low, rumbly laugh made its way to your ears. It entered your system like a virus, leaving your limbs feeling weak and yearning. Was Loki laughing? You lifted your head and watched him, highly bemused at your idiotic display.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. You felt a hard tug at your heart. Goodness, if this man wasn’t already a god, you’d have to declare him one. If he were the head of a religion you would throw out your atheist views and follow him to the end of the multiverse. He looked absolutely breathtaking. Then again, when did he not?

“I’m so sorry,” you started to apologise, “I don’t know what-”

With superhuman speed he moved and sat next to you, his finger on your lips. The feel of his digit on your mouth felt more intimate than any sexual intercourse you’d ever had.

And then he leaned in.

He was so close your cells were basically breathing him in. His eyes were locked onto yours and nothing would have been able to make you look away right then.

“Do you want to know what book I’m reading right now?” His quiet words did things to your insides that were not legal.

You just about managed to nod, his finger still in place.

“‘The Remains of the Day’ by Kazuo Ishiguro. Do you know it?” He waited for your affirmation. “It’s about a man who is in love with a woman. But he doesn’t tell her. When they meet again after decades, she tells him her life would have been different if she had married him. And you know what he does? He still won’t admit his feelings to her. He walks away from her. The first time he lets her go, the second time he walks away.”

You remembered the book very well. You had picked it out for him, after all.

“It’s a cruel story, Y/N. A love that is never acknowledged, nor consumed.” Loki’s eyes drifted from yours down to your mouth. His finger slowly traced the outline of your lips. It was too much, your eyes closed.

“Do you think love is this cruel?” Loki asked quietly. You felt his words as he spoke them almost onto your skin. So close.

“It-it can be,” you whispered. “But maybe, maybe that wasn’t the point of the story.”

“No?”

You opened your eyes to find him looking at you. He’d moved away a bit, giving you some space, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Maybe the point was to show that he chose his job over love. Twice. You can call it dignity or pride, but at the end he’s alone. Without love.”

“What about you, Y/N? Do you have love in your life?”

You weren’t able to look into his eyes. Slowly, you got off the sofa. You turned back to him to respond to find he’d stood up, too.

You looked down at your shoes. His shoes were black, of course, polished, perfect, like him. Yours were several seasons old. Worn. A bit of the shoe sole had started to peel off at the top of your toes. The bit you always kicked into the floor when you worked.

Your eyes wandered up his trousers, black, to the belt, his pullover, also black. He looked effortlessly elegant, poised. You, on the other hand, looked a mess, even in your work attire. Your heart grew heavy at the realisation. Your dreams were stupid. Turned out your heart was even more stupid. And suddenly you felt incredibly small in more ways than one next to the tall, powerful god.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you said: “I have known love, once. A long time ago.”

With that you pivoted on your heels and left, leaving Loki alone in the common room.

*****

Harris was an absolute tosser.

He just couldn’t leave things be. He insisted on trying to show you up, so he tried and tried to hack his way through your firewalls. Of course he had tried to hide his identity and it had made you chuckle, because you seriously had no idea how he could ever dare call himself a cyber security specialist if he covered up his tracks like a novice hacker.

In a way it was cute, but it was getting to the point of obsessive stalking and you frankly were rather tired of this little game by now. Particularly, since it kept you from your nice, warm, comfortable bed well past midnight.

However, Harris seemed to have changed tactics and started to badmouth you in the industry. Even Fury had called Tony and asked whether he should be worried, because Harris had dug up some hacking you’d done when you were much younger and much less ethical. Really it was unhinged, but everyone worked through teenage years in their own way.

You only knew this because you happened to be in Tony’s office and he had Fury on loudspeaker. Tony had pacified Fury without batting an eye, then hung up and asked if you’d be okay with him paying Harris a little visit, preferably as Iron Man. You had both laughed it off. But it bugged you.

So when you were on your way back to the tower from the compulsory (for all employees) counselling session and someone grabbed you, you weren’t surprised to come face to face with Harris. He didn’t lay a finger on you. No, he got two goons to do that for him.

Later, as you stumbled out of the lift and along the corridor, trying to make your way to your room, someone blocked your way.

“Speak of the devil! Y/N! We were just talking about you.” Tony. Other voices around him.

You kept your head down, thinking of how to get out of this unnoticed.

“We were just wondering if– Y/N? What happened?” You saw Tony’s hand reach out for you, but you flinched away.

Silence fell for a long moment.

Then a movement. Shoes appeared in your line of vision. You knew those shoes well. They had been on display on the couch for the past 22 days, attached to an Asgardian god.

He slowly held out his hand, palm up. An assurance, no harm. You gave the slightest nod. He moved the hand up and placed a finger under your chin so carefully you wanted to sob. The faintest of pressure had you lift your head to look up at Loki. His eyes scanned your appearance, stopping at your bruised hands that were trying to hold together your coat, taking in the blood splatters on the fabric, your busted lip, the lopsided glasses, the badly bent temple dangling off its hinge.

You never understood the expression ‘his features darkened’. You did now. Loki’s face transformed and you saw for the first time what a dangerous man he could be. Power radiated off him. You were glad it was not directed at you. His nostrils flared and you almost heard how much he was clenching his teeth.

“Names,” he ground out.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek and now that it started it didn’t want to stop. His eyes softened, something akin to vulnerability flitting across his features.

“H–Har…”

“Harris?” Tony asked softly. You nodded, still looking at Loki.

Loki rolled his lips in his mouth, his thumb swiping ever so lightly over the skin of your chin, before dropping his hand and walking to the lift in long strides.

“Nat?” Tony asked, the spy already by your side.

“Hold up, Reindeer Games!” Tony hollered behind you, as Romanoff led you down the corridor to your room. “I’m coming, too…”

It felt as if you were having an out of body experience as you were peeled out of your bloodied coat, your clothes and body assessed quickly but gently. She pulled out her phone after she ushered you into the shower.

“Tony? No forced intercourse, but lots of bruising…,” was all you heard before the hot spray of the water ran into your ears, blocking all noise out.

*****

Your glasses were fixed and you could see properly again. That was important, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to see Harris’ face on the news as he was escorted - handcuffed - from a courtroom and shoved into a police van, followed by the two goons who had helped him.

When you turned from the screen above the cashier, you saw Loki next to Tony across the canteen, looking at you. You walked over, clutching your sandwich.

“So, um… thank you,” you said, gesturing to the screen, “for that.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, before his eyes gazed behind you. “Is that a double cheeseburger I see? Excuse me.”

And off he went, leaving you alone with the Asgardian god.

You shuffled your feet, studying the floor.

“Thanks again-”

“Are you okay?”

You both said at the same time. You laughed quietly, looking up at him. He smiled. You’d never seen Loki smile.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

You wanted to say so much more, do so much more, like hug him. But he was a god. You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for hugging gods. The awkward silence thickened.

“So, I’ll see you around?”

He was still smiling. “Yes. See you around.”

You were fairly sure you were blushing as you scampered off, back to your office.

*****

Bryant Park was one of your favourite places to be in New York. For one, it was right behind the public library - your heaven. For another, it was close to the Tower and you could wander the paths under the lovely trees. The park was very busy as it was Christmas Eve and people wanted to while away the time in the Winter Village until the big day. But as the ice rink closed down and the skaters came off, noses and cheeks red from the cold, the park started to empty.

You sat on a bench under one of the trees, gloved hands deep in your coat pockets, a woolly hat and scarf keeping you warm. Your head was tilted back and you watched the snowflakes dance and twirl in the cold wind.

“Y/N,” someone called.

Loki stood a few metres away from you, a black coat making him look even taller. He was not donning a hat or a scarf, he looked comfortable with the cold. The snow clung to his dark hair, a soft dusting was on his shoulders. You envied the snowflakes.

You got to your feet and he took a few steps closer, looking down at you.

“Were you enjoying the activities?” Loki asked, nodding to the ice rink.

“No, I just… I just like to sit here,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “I like the trees and the snow. It’s… peaceful.”

He nodded.

“How about you? Fancied a turn on the ice?”

He laughed and you watched the cloud mix with your breath. Now you envied your breath.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

He took another step towards you. “Yes.”

“Why? Did something happen at the Tower?” Worriedly, you fumbled your phone out of the coat pocket and checked it.

A large hand covered it. You looked up. “Nothing happened. I wanted to talk to you.”

Nervously, you glanced down at his hand that still covered your phone. If you hadn’t been wearing gloves your hands would have had actual skin on skin contact. He dropped his hand to his side.

“Am I in trouble?”

He shook his head. “I… I wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

His hand pulled a book out of his pocket. “For this.” He slid it back in the folds of his coat.

“Oh.” You didn’t really know how to feel or react. You knew he’d been onto you, so it was no surprise he’d sussed it out. He was, after all, the God of Mischief and Lies. But you had to give him kudos for letting it play out.

“Um, you’re welcome.” You bit your lip.

“You don’t know what this meant– what this means to me.”

It was impossible to look at him.

“I was dreading this time of year here on Midgard. But your incredibly generous advent calendar made it feel… like when I first visited here with my mother.” He grasped your gloved hands in his. “I miss her dearly, so thank you. For giving me this.”

You were too choked up to say anything, so you just nodded.

“Can I enquire what your reason was?”

It was so cautious, as if he was worried it might scare you off. And yet, the question threw you, most likely because you had been asking yourself the very same thing from the moment of its conception in your shower. It was just there, a need, an urgency you didn’t know where it came from or why it existed. It was something you had to do. Like breathing.

But over the course of the last few weeks, particularly the last few days, it had become painfully clear why you did it.

“I wanted, no, I needed you to be happy.”

He squeezed your hands gently. The tips of his shoes, his shiny, polished shoes, now touched yours.

“Please look at me.”

So you did. He looked different… vulnerable maybe.

“Why do you need me to be happy?” The question was another cloud and you breathed it in, let it fill your lungs.

“Because…” You were afraid to say it, to admit it. But something in his eyes made you courageous. Either that, or foolish.

“Because I watched you, during missions and in briefings and ops planning. You started to believe what they said about you. And it’s not true. There’s so much you don’t share, don’t tell them and I see it. It’s right there in your eyes. And I didn’t want you to lose yourself. And it’s selfish, I know, but I need you to be happy… because if you are, so am I.”

“If you think that’s selfish, then I am guilty of this notion, too.”

Loki raised his right hand to run the backs of his fingers over your cold cheek. “I knew after three days it was you. I wanted to see where this was going, what your motivation was. And I… when I saw you after Harris… I was filled with so much rage and fear. That I would lose you. Before I had you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, you closed your eyes, heart beating out of your chest at what you were hearing. Was this a dream?

Loki’s voice was just above a whisper. “Can I? Have you?”

You moved away slightly to look into his eyes. “Yes.”

He leaned in, his hands splaying on your back, as you stood on your toes. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt a current run straight to your heart. It was as if your brain rewired, the missing piece of the primer clicked into place and unlocked everything.

Snow was falling as Loki kissed you under the tree. You didn’t hear the whistles and hollering of passerbys. You didn’t feel the cold wind. You felt elated, buzzing even.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki murmured against your lips.

“Hm?” you said dreamily.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki smiled, “someone’s calling you.”

Quickly you pulled out the damned device. Before you could even say your name, you heard Tony say: “So sorry for disrupting, Y/N, but we got a slight issue here that needs your expert skills pronto.”

You hung up, burying your head in Loki’s chest. His laugh rumbled in his chest. “We’ll talk more later.”

Breathing in his scent and holding onto him, you weren’t ready to let go. “Promise?”

*****

“Oh god, yes,” you sighed in absolute bliss. “That’s the spot, right there.”

Your groan sounded through the kitchen. You deserved that after three hours of extra work on Christmas Eve.

“Here?” Nat asked.

“Yes, yes! Please don’t stop,” you begged, putty in her hands, eliciting more noises from you.

“Maybe you should try yoga. Your shoulders and your whole upper body are so tense and full of knots. There’s a class I go to tomorrow at lunchtime, if you want to join me?”

“No time,” you murmured. “Heavens, Nat, what else can you do with those hands?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Banner interrupted, grabbing Nat by the hand and dragging her to the door. “I’m happy to share my girlfriend’s masseuse skills for a severe case of muscle lock, but I’m afraid I have a personal request now.”

You opened your eyes to catch Nat winking at you, a slight blush on her cheeks as she was pulled out of the room. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you heard before they disappeared down the corridor.

You laughed and turned in your stool. Thor, Scott and Loki stood staring. Thor at the ends of his braids, Scott at his fingernails, Loki at you. Eyes intense and dark. You swallowed.

“Y/N, a word, if you please,” Loki said, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and marching out of the room, with you trying to keep up with his long strides, your coat and shoulder bag in your other hand.

He didn’t say a single word until you reached his room - it was closest - and the door shut behind you, locking the outside world out. He pushed you against the door, arm placed against the wood above your head, body leaning into yours, not quite touching.

“That was… a rather interesting display,” he remarked quietly, his breath puffing against your face as he spoke. “In future, I would prefer if your keening was reserved for me.”

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt. “That sounds like an exclusive right to me.”

“It most certainly is.” His lips hovered over yours.

Your index finger slipped in the space between two buttons. “A right that needs to be earned,” you whispered, your finger grazing his skin.

His breath hitched ever so slightly. “Do not challenge me, darling,” he leaned in, his body moving against yours teasingly. “It might be,” his mouth brushed against your earlobe, “too taxing for you.”

You scoffed, but his lips silenced you. His stance shifted as he picked you up and placed you on the nearest surface - a sideboard - and stepped between your legs. He broke the kiss, to cup your face. For a long moment he just gazed at you. The heat in his eyes seemed to intensify, turning you into a needy mess. He made a show of taking off your glasses, folding the temples and carefully putting them on the side board next to you. Your core clenched.

He held out his hand for you to hop off the furniture. You took it and he took to your lips.

It was quite possible that several things fell off on your way to Loki’s bedroom. When you pushed him into the wall to open the damned buttons of his shirt, a picture might have fallen. A vase, perhaps, when he picked you up and spun you around so your back was against the doorframe next to the fragile ornament. Your head hit the heavy frame of a painting, rendering it lopsided, when Loki feasted on your throat, and you tilted your head back to allow him better access.

Kissing, licking, nipping, sucking - he was intent on leaving marks. Your fingers somehow were in his hair, keeping his head in place. Soft, his hair was so soft. A sharp contrast to the teeth you felt pulling on your skin. His ministrations drew a long moan from you.

Loki smiled against your skin. “Yes, my siren, sing.”

Your back hit the mattress and he crawled over you. His hair a curtain, screening you off from the rest of the world in your own sacred space. His shirt hung open, your hands reached out, tracing each line, each dip. His tongue against yours mimicked the motion of his hips that rolled into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting each movement, as if you had practised this dance many times before. He pulled away to tug off your pullover. His fingers pushed up your bra and then he sucked your nipple into his hot mouth, making you arch your back.

“Loki, please.”

You didn’t really know what you begged for. More, probably. More of this, more of him.

He pulled you up so you both were kneeling on the bed. Shaking hands fumbled with clothes and fastenings and then you were both naked. Your breath hitched at his beauty.

“Can I…,” you started, voice sounding hoarse. You looked up at him. “Please let me worship you.”

Something flickered across his face - surprise? He gave a curt nod and then watched every single one of your movements.

You took his right hand, tracing each finger with yours, the veins on the back of his hands. You brought his hand up to your face, cradling it to your cheek, before kissing the palm of his hand. One finger at a time, you sucked it into your mouth, to the knuckle, your tongue swirling around the digit, before releasing it and pressing a kiss to the tip, before moving on to the next.

Your hands traced the skin of the inside of his arm, his veins, the rise and fall of his muscles, and up over his shoulder, across his chest to his left arm, which you gave the same treatment. Each birthmark, each scar was kissed. Your hands skimmed over his chest, your lips followed the path. Loki’s breath stuttered when you sucked on his left nipple, before you released it, softly blowing on it. It puckered. You bestowed the same treatment upon the other nipple.

“Please, lie down,” you whispered and he complied.

You lay next to him, kissing his forehead, your fingers running through his hair along his scalp, gently tugging. Onwards, to kiss the curve of each eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, along his jawline to his ear. You felt his body shiver when you breathed: “You are so beautiful, inside and out.”

Then your teeth closed around his earlobe, gently pulling. A deep moan sounded through the room. Up until now he had let you do whatever you wanted to and not touched you. But his restraint waned and his hands splayed on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You kept going, your lips now worshipping his delectable throat. He tilted his head back to give you better access.

“Herregud,” he rasped as you kissed, licked and sucked on his sensitive skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, his hands growing slack on your back.

You kissed the dip between his collar bones and worked your way down his torso, lips kissing, hands caressing. Further and further you went, along his abs, dipping in his belly button, following the trail of hair below. You leaned back a bit, to look at him. He was fully erect, heavy, swaying slightly. The purple mushroom head gleaming with pearls of pre-cum, thick veins running down the shaft to his pubic hair.

You licked your lips, curling one of your hands around his base, the other cupping his testacles. Then you looked up at him. He was up on his elbows, staring down at you hotly, biting his lips as he watched you in anticipation. You made sure to have and maintain eye contact and then you took him into your mouth.

He hissed, his head falling back, a loud moan following when you hollowed your cheeks to apply suction, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue.

You moved your hand up his length, still sucking, giving his testicles a gentle yet confident squeeze. Up your mouth went, your tongue circling his slit, before sucking him back in. The third time you did it, his hands clasped your shoulders.

“Stop.”

You looked up at him. Loki was breathing hard and you let his cock slide from your mouth with a wet ‘plop’.

In an instant your back was on the mattress and he hovered over you.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” he explained, voice rough, “I loved it, but I have plans.”

He settled between your legs, eyes locked on yours, hand on your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. His hand slid up, splaying over the fullness of your ass, before giving it a firm squeeze, then sliding over the globe and dipping between your legs. When his slender digits made contact with your aching centre, you cried out. Your whole body was throbbing with need.

“All this nectar is for me?” he rasped.

You nodded.

“Oh, I have to see this.” And in one fluid motion he sat back on his heels, spreading your legs with his hands, looking at your dripping wet centre in amazement.

“Wait a moment,” he said, before he scrambled off the bed and disappeared in the corridor, only to come back a few moments later to resume his place between your legs. He handed you something with a smirk. Your glasses.

“I want you to see me.”

You put them on, your heartbeat accelerating. You bit your lip in anticipation. He looked up at you, his hot breath puffing against your wet core and then his flat tongue licked you all the way from your entrance to your clit. Your fingers fisted in the bedsheets, eyes falling shut in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent cry.

“Look at me.”

You did. He started a rhythm of licking, sucking and lapping that had the coil inside you wind up and tighten impossibly in no time at all. You fell back onto a pillow. Then he slid two fingers inside you and your hands dove into his hair, tugging, scraping.

What a visual. Loki between your legs, eyes burning into yours, humming and moaning against your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you, curling just at the right time, at the exact angle you needed. It was as if you were a book he’d read a thousand times before. Your toes curled and then you fell into the abyss. You moaned out his name over and over as the orgasm washed over you, leaving your legs shaking.

Loki moved up your body, placing kisses on your thighs, your tummy, your breasts, before he brushed some hair out of your face. You took your glasses off, he placed them on the bedside table. His eyes searched yours.

“I need you, Loki,” you managed, pulling him down.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, the taste of you on his tongue. His hips rocked forward and he slid inside you all the way to the hilt. Loki stilled and broke the kiss, resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Your fingers caressed his back. Unable to form words, you nodded. Then he moved. His hips rocked into yours in slow, deep thrusts. He filled you so well, stimulating places inside you you didn’t know existed. Your hands ran over his back, down his sides, making him shiver. He watched you, eyes dark but warm. One hand found your swollen clit and his fingers circled and rubbed, applying the pressure you needed to fall into oblivion again. Your feet pressed into his ass cheeks to bring him closer, deeper and his name fell from your lips over and over.

He rocked inside you as you rode out your orgasm. You opened your eyes to look at him in wonder. Never had you seen anything as beautiful as Loki. He seemed to glow from the inside. Maybe it was your imagination. You lifted your head, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss. His tongue moved languidly against yours, savouring the intimacy.

Then he started moving faster, pulling one of your legs up to rest the calf against his shoulder. Deeper, you wanted him deeper. You couldn’t get close enough. His mouth was devouring yours in a needy kiss, all tongues and teeth now as he pistoned faster into you, your hips meeting each of his thrusts. His lips found your nipple, sucking, pulling on it, moving to its sibling. You couldn’t believe you were on the verge again already. Never before had you been able to orgasm more than once during intercourse.

The room was quiet but for the moans, the heavy breathing. You were so wet that your coupling’s noise was wonderfully dirty, edging you both on even more.

“Look at us,” Loki commanded and you did.

Nothing had ever been so erotic as watching him fill you, stretch you, sliding out, covered in your juices. His fingers were on your clit again, rubbing, circling.

“I don’t know if I can…”

“One more, darling, give me one more,” he insisted, breathlessly.

His hips moved faster, as did his fingers and you were there, on the edge. Loki’s eyes met yours and he knew. His movements stuttered, pupils fully blown, jaw slack, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple.

“Cum with me,” you whispered, your fingers dragging down his back, possibly breaking skin, squeezing and pulling his ass into you.

And he did, propelling you into bliss with him. Your name fell from his lips in a string of Norse profanities. His cock pulsated as the hot ropes of his seed marked your insides as his, your pussy eagerly clenching around him, making sure every last drop would be spent inside you. His movements slowed and then he stilled, buried inside you.

Loki’s lips pressed onto yours in a tender kiss. You stayed in the embrace until you both caught your breath. Then he pulled out of you, your mixed juices running out of you. He could have cleaned you up using magic.

But Loki got out of bed, got a wet flannel from the bathroom and gently cleaned you, kissing your tired body, before sliding back into bed. He pulled you into his arms, your hands joined over his heart, legs intertwined and you both lay there, in your bubble of utter and complete happiness under warm covers, watching the snowflakes dance outside the window in the early hours of Christmas Day.

Christmas Day!

“Oh, wait here!”

You scrambled off the bed and ran to the door, forgetting about your nakedness, pulling your shoulder bag from under your coat. You pulled something from it and brought it back to Loki. He was sitting up, forearms resting on his knees, an intrigued look on his face.

“Merry Christmas,” you said.

He looked at you and then at the present you held out to him. He cocked an eyebrow as he took it and pulled the fabric ribbon off. His hands parted the paper and then he grew completely still.

“Where in the nine realms did you get this?” he asked after a few moments, voice sounding rough.

“A friend of mine got her hands on this a while back. I thought you might like it.”

He stared at the book, transfixed. His slender fingers caressing the embossed letters on the front and then he lifted it to take in the scent of the pages. His eyes closed.

“Do you? Like it, I mean?” You were worried about this book. It had cost an arm and a leg, but you thought it would be worth it.

“Like it?” Loki asked, finally looking at you and pulling you on his lap. “My mother used to read me his poems when I was a child. I rediscovered it later. This is…”

He was searching for words, failed to find them and instead kissed you, hard, hand fisting in your hair. After a long moment, he broke the kiss.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stroking his pulse point.

“Will you read it to me?” you asked, a bit out of breath.

Nodding, he sat against the headboard, you curled up against him with his arm around you. He made sure you were both tucked under the covers. Then he opened the book and cleared his throat.

“Kormákr Ӧgmundarson ‘Sigurðardrápa ‘Drápa’. This is one of my favourites, he wrote it for the love of his life.”

His fingers wandered up your arm.

“Brunnu beggja kinna

bjǫrt ljós á mik drósar,

oss hlœgir þat eigi,

eldhúss of við felldan.”

His digits absently stroked your ribcage, skirting over the side of your breast. The rhythm and intonation of his deep voice made you clench your thighs.

“Enn til ǫkkla svanna

ítrvaxins gatk líta,

þrǫ́ muna oss of ævi

eldask, hjá þreskeldi.”

He paused, closing the book and brushing his lips against the skin of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“What-what does he say?” you all but stuttered.

Loki kissed along your collarbone. Humming against your skin.

“The bright lights of both

her cheeks burned onto me

from the fire-hall's felled wood;

no cause of mirth for me in that.”

His hands cupped your breasts as he sucked and teased one of the nipples. Your hands tugged on his hair, desperate for him again already. You felt his need hard and heavy against your thigh.

“By the threshold I gained a glance

at the ankles of this girl

of glorious shape.”

Loki moved to lie between your legs, hands sliding over your breasts, your tummy, your thigh, down to your ankle, lifting it to wrap it around his hips.

“Yet while I live

that longing will never leave me.”

His voice faltered as he rocked his hips forward and your bodies were joined once more.

“That longing will never leave me,” he repeated like a vow, eyes serious and warm.

“Nor me,” you pledged, before you lost yourselves in the physical expression of your feelings once more.

~ fin ~

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