#This is meant to help explain why you might be blocked

[hunterarden]

I guess I’ll just block perhaps most people in The Witcher fandom (or hatedom), even many I like or find interesting. Because:

1) you probably will or already do not like me!

2) I may love some of your takes but adamantly disagree with many others.

3) I… am clearly not at all on the same page as most in this fandom. To me, this seems like a very non interactive fandom, where we each generate our own work, and then agree with one another, no matter what. So I should try to refrain from answering questions that are posted only to be insults or jokes, responding to people who are very good at coming up with their own theories but have no interest in imbibing others, or projecting my own issues with the entire fandom onto some random fan.

[deadsetobsessions]

Gothic mushroom shaped candles. Danny picked one up, grinning. Sam would have love these on her alters. Very Sam, very Gotham.

It a bit bittersweet, now that he could think of her without being paralyzed by crushing grief. Her and Tucker both. Danny turned, keeping an eye on Tim as he glared into the case of used cameras.

Danny walked over and tried not to feel guilty about practically mooching off of a child. Even if the money he was using was actually the Drakes’.

“Like anything you see?”

Tim shook his head. Danny pondered over what little he knew of photography- all of which he learned from documentaries that were more focused on nature.

“I think there might be a camera store a couple of blocks down. We could get the ones that takes photos of animals, like the really big ones that takes photos of wildlife?”

“I guess. I mean, I don’t need it since we can…” Tim glanced around suspiciously. Danny willed his mouth to not smile at Tim’s antics. “Fly close,” the kid finished in a whisper.

“Okay, but what about when I’m not there?”

Tim hunched up on himself and Danny despaired inwardly. Uh oh, what did he say now?”

“Are you going somewhere?” Tim quietly asked, sounding hurt and upset.

“No,” Danny soothed, patting Tim on the head. I mean, what if I’m busy with stuff but you want to go take pictures without me?”

“You said to go get you whenever I wanna go out to take pictures.”

“Okay, yeah, I- well, we might as well get you a quality camera, right? To take really really good pictures of the… local wildlife. Like… the birds and the bats, and all that.” Danny winked exaggeratedly.

Tim blinked and giggled when he got the joke. “Okay, as long as you’re staying!”

Danny grinned, fangs and all. “Of course.”

——

At the end of their shopping spree, generously provided and sponsored by the Drake family and their heavy black card, Danny got a phone and Tim got a wild life camera that was a whopping $4,000 but was compact enough to not look absolutely ridiculous.

“It’s heavy!” Tim whined, as he grinned like a loon.

“It’s quality,” Danny plopped the shopping bags on the island in one of the giant kitchens Drake manor had. “I’ll make dinner. You figure out those settings and you can tell me about it when we eat.”

“Okay!” Tim hummed excited, quick fingers and laser focus already aimed at his new device.

Danny picked up his new phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. As it rung, Danny held it up to his ear and began prepping the ingredients. At least

“Hello?” His sister’s cautious voice came through the phone. Danny’s shoulders relaxed.

“Heya, Jazz.” He could see Tim’s ears all but perk up in order to eavesdrop. His mouth quirked up in amusement and Danny turned away. He probably shouldn’t be encouraging that kind of behavior… but it was funny.

“Danny! Are you okay? I- I heard that they chased after you and I was worried sick! Are you safe? Any injuries? Do I need to pick you up?”

“I’m good. Promise. Not bleeding out or dying. It’s actually pretty nice right now,” Danny paused before turning back a little more so he could watch Tim’s reaction peripherally. “Hey, listen, can I adopt a little brother?”

He watched Tim sit up straighter eyed flickering up to him and back down again, a secretly pleased look on his face as he figured out that Danny was in fact talking about him.

“Danny, what the hell?” Jazz huffed, audibly relieved to know that Danny wasn’t on his merry way to becoming a full on ghost. “Who, why, and what kind of trouble did you get into now?”

“Hey, this was me getting out of trouble. Those people don’t even know where I escaped to. Tim helped me out a lot,” Danny said in the tone that meant ‘and there’s more to it but I can’t tell you right now.’

“His name’s Tim?”

“Yeah, you wanna say hi?”

Tim looked terrified as he heard Danny’s side of the conversation. Danny could relate.

“Alright. But you’re explaining everything later, got it?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Danny turned to Tim, abandoning the peas he was shelling and rinsing off his hand to hold the phone.

“Tim, my sister, Jazz, wants to say hi. Are you cool with that?”

“Uhm! Yeah! Yeah, sure.” Tim, honest to ancients, squeaked. Danny’s enhanced hearing could pick up Jazz’s already melting heart. He taped a button.

“Jazz, you’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Tim. I’m Jazz. Thanks for taking care of my little brother!”

“Uh, hi, Jazz! I’m Timothy Drake! And, uh, you’re welcome! Anytime!”

Tim glanced at Danny for reassurance, relaxing a bit when the halfa threw him a double thumbs up.

Jazz went quiet.

“Jazz, you good?” Danny asked.

“We’re adopting him. Danny, you better make sure knows about everyone. Hi, Tim, I’m Jazz, your new big sister.”

“Uh- I have parents.”

“That can be fixed,” Jazz casually brushed off. Tim looked like a deer in headlights, so Danny took his sister off speaker and went back to cooking. He made sure to smile at Tim.

“Don’t worry, we won’t adopt you if you don’t want to. But it wasn’t a joke, we’re very serious.”

“I’ll think about it?”

Danny shrugged. “Good enough for me.”

“So, where are you?” Jazz asked him, rustling coming through on the phone.

“Gotham.”

“You are so fucking lucky I love you, dumbass. I’ll be there tomorrow at noon.”

“Playing hooky, are you?”

“Fuck off, little brother, before I show Tim your toddler pictures.”

“Thanks, Jazz.”

“Bye, Danny. Don’t get killed again when I’m not there, got it?”

“Sure, sure.”

Danny smiled and returned to his agenda of stuffing as many vegetables into one meal as he can. At least the food isn’t trying to tear out his face.

——

Robin hasn’t heard the eerie giggles around lately, but he’s been practicing his own. It’s weird though, because there’s always a glint of something in the corner of his eyes.

“Robin, muggers.”

“On it, B. Shall we, Batgirl?”

“Let’s go, Boy Wonder.”

[alessiasfreckles]

too in love to think straight

Alessia always thought she was straight, until y/n joined the team. Y/n has a crush on Alessia, but is far too shy to do anything about it. Their meddling teammates decide to help them out.

warnings: none!

A/N: based off this prompt! longest fic yet at almost 4k words, so thank you for the prompt, it definitely helped the writer's block!

------

Alessia Russo was straight. Straight as a ruler. Sometimes her teammates joked about it, teasing her for being a heterosexual female footballer, one of a kind. She had never let the jokes they made get to her, always brushing them off, not even giving them a second thought. After all, she was straight, wasn’t she?

She watched you in training, sometimes. Not in a creepy way or anything, just in a… ‘wanting to know more about you’ way. Alessia was fascinated by you, even if she couldn’t quite explain why. You had joined the team a month ago and had already earned a reputation for being extremely shy and quiet. Sometimes your teammates would place bets on who could get you to say more than a single sentence that day, which you didn’t mind, really. You knew they weren’t doing it to be mean, and that they’d stop if you asked. Despite how shy you were, you’d already found your place in the team and felt comfortable there. The girls were your friends, even if you didn’t talk much. 

You were warming up in training, your hand on Steph’s shoulder as you swung your leg back and forth, when she said something that made you start giggling. The sound nearly made Alessia trip over her own feet, and when she looked up to see you grinning at Steph, she felt something flutter in her stomach.

That was normal, right? That was a thing that happened to straight people? She just really wanted to be friends with you, that was all. Right?

As the days went by, she started making an effort to talk to you more. She would coincidentally finish getting changed at the same time as you, meaning the two of you ended up walking together quite often. 

“So, um, how are you settling in?” she asked the first time it happened. 

“Good,” you said, smiling shyly. 

“That’s good! I settled in pretty quickly too, the girls are so nice and welcoming here, you know? I had been worried when I moved that it was going to take me ages to feel at home, but now it feels like I’ve been here forever!” she rambled, and then laughed awkwardly. “Oh, sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“No, it’s okay,” you glanced up at her and gave her another smile, blushing slightly, and she smiled back. 

From then on, she found herself thinking about your smile a lot. She would look for you during training, hoping to catch a glimpse of it. It was even better when it was directed at her. 

----

“So we can all agree that Lessi definitely has a thing for y/n, right?” Steph said in the changing room to the few teammates that were still getting ready after the two of you had (completely coincidentally, of course) left at the same time once again. 

“Wait, I thought she was straight?” Kyra asked.

“Nah, y/n’s gay,” Jen piped up. “I mean, she doesn’t really talk about it much, but she posts about pride month on instagram and stuff, and we talked about what going to pride for the first time was like a couple weeks ago.”

“No, I know y/n is gay,” Kyra said, exasperated. “I meant Lessi. She’s like, the token straight in the team.”

“Yeah, I have a feeling that our token straight isn’t as straight as we thought. Or as she thought, for that matter,” Steph grinned. “Have you seen the way she follows y/n around? Like a lovesick puppy.”

“Maybe someone should try and find out if y/n feels the same way,” Jen suggested, a sly look on her face. “Ky, you should do it.”

“What?! No way,” Steph laughed. “Ky can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life.”

“Hey!” the younger Australian protested. “Actually, yeah she’s right. I would definitely just ask her outright if she’s interested in Less. Kinda get the feeling that we might need subtlety to get that kind of info out of her.”

Just then, Viv walked back into the changing room. “What are you guys doing in here? Come on, we’re all waiting for you.”

“Viv!” Steph exclaimed. “You’d be perfect for our plan!”

“What plan?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, so you’ve noticed how Less has a crush on y/n, too, right?” Jen said, grinning. “Well, we want to find out if the feeling is mutual. But, you know, since y/n’s so shy we figured that just asking outright isn’t the right approach. So…. that’s where you come in!”

“Really, guys?” Viv said, looking unimpressed. “That’s their business.”

“Oh, come on, Viv,” Steph pleaded. “Look, we all know there’s no way y/n would make any moves herself, and Less probably hasn’t even realised she likes her yet.”

Viv sighed. “I guess you have a point. But I’m not going to push her, okay? If she doesn’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”

“Oooh, this is so exciting!” Kyra squealed, clapping her hands. “Oh, but remember to be subtle!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Viv said, rolling her eyes. “Now come on, everyone’s waiting.”

----

“So, um, you’re very much straight, right?” Alessia asked Ella as they had one of their weekly facetime calls. 

“Ha, yeah, unfortunately,” Ella grinned. “Why, you interested?”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “As, y’know, a straight person, would you say it’s normal to, um, think about another girl? A lot?”

“Right, tell me everything,” Ella said, getting comfy. “Who is it?”

Alessia groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Y/n. The newbie?”

“Aw, yeah, she’s cute!” 

“Okay, so you think she’s cute too! So, it’s a perfectly normal thing to think about someone, isn’t it?” 

“Well, that depends,” Ella said with a grin. “Do you think she’s cute in a completely platonic way or in a ‘she’s cute and i want to kiss her and have sex and get married and have babies’ way?”

“Oh my god, Ella!” Alessia groaned again.

Ella laughed. “Okay, so it’s the second one.”

“I don’t know, maybe?” the blonde blushed at the thought, but had to admit to herself that it wasn’t the first time she’d thought about kissing you. “So, it’s not something straight people think about?”

“Nope,” Ella smirked. 

Okay, so maybe Alessia was as straight as one of those bendy rulers the cool kids had in high school.

“Ugh, what do I do?” she asked.

“I mean, you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Ella said gently. “Like, about maybe not being straight, or about y/n.”

“Okay but,” Alessia started, then sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know if I want to do anything about the maybe not being straight bit. But, the y/n bit, I just, I don’t know! She’s just really fucking cute and like, really shy but when she does talk you can tell that she’s really smart and observant, and she has the cutest laugh, oh my god, the first time I heard it I nearly fell over, and I just want to be the one to make her laugh, you know? And like, I want to get to know her better. I want to know what she does when she gets home from training, what her favourite TV show is, what her family is like.”

“Well,” her best friend said. “Kind of seems like you do know what you want to do about y/n. You want to get to know her and make her laugh. Those seem like very achievable goals!”

“Yeah, I suppose,” the blonde said, frowning. Those were pretty achievable goals, actually. And technically she wouldn’t even be doing anything about her… well, her crush. She would just be getting to know her teammate. “Yeah. Thanks, Ella.”

“Anytime!” Ella said with a wide grin. “But as soon as this goes anywhere, I want to be the first to know, okay?”

Alessia let out a laugh, feeling much better after having talked to the brunette. “Deal.”

-------

A few days later, you were walking on the treadmill in the gym when Viv joined the treadmill next to you. You smiled at her, not thinking much of it, and when she gestured for you to take your headphones out you did. 

“Shit, sorry, I hate it when people try talking to me when I have headphones in,” she cringed, laughing sheepishly.

“It’s fine,” you said with a small smile. You liked Viv. She was quiet too, but more confident than you were. 

“I just wanted to check in, see how you were feeling. You’ve been here for what, 5, 6 weeks now?”

“5 weeks today,” you said, and she nodded. “I’m feeling good. I really like it here. Everyone has been really welcoming.”

She smiled, and it was genuine. She really did want to know if you were settling in okay. “That’s great! I’m happy to hear that. Beth will be too.”

“You two really are the mums of the team,” you teased softly.

“Ha, yeah, people say that a lot,” Viv said with a laugh. The two of you jogged quietly for a minute before she spoke up again. “So, I noticed you and Lessi have been hanging out a lot lately.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you said, blush quickly rising your cheeks. “She’s, um, really nice.”

“She’s pretty new here, too,” the older player said offhandedly, glancing over at you. “Maybe she can show you some good spots in the area?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked down at the treadmill, not wanting to meet Viv’s eye.

“I’m glad you’re making friends here, y/n,” Viv said with a kind smile, and you nodded.

-------

“Okay, yeah, she has a crush on Less,” Viv announced to the girls in the changing room. It was the same group as before, Kyra, Steph and Jen, plus Katie, Leah, and Beth, who had gotten involved now too. 

“Oh my god, that’s so cute!” Steph gushed. “Wait, did she tell you that? Just like that?”

“No, of course not,” Viv said, rolling her eyes. “But trust me, okay? She likes her.”

“Alright,” Steph said, happy to believe her. “So, what’s the next step?”

“Guys, come on, you can’t meddle in this!” Leah said, standing up. “They have to figure it out for themselves!” 

“Aw, come on, Lee,” Katie said with a grin. “Surely a little push is okay? After all, there’s no way y/n is gonna do anything about it. And we’re still not sure Less even knows she likes her.”

Leah stood there for a minute, arms crossed, before sighing. “Fine, a little meddling is okay. But nothing big, alright?”

The girls grinned excitedly and got to planning.

-----

Jonas clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention. 

“Okay, ladies, I want you to partner up for this next one!” 

The team was close enough that things like this didn’t make you feel the same dread that it did in P.E. in high school. Partnering up now meant partnering up with any of your friends, not waiting anxiously to see if you were chosen. Still, you waited to see if anyone did choose you. 

Alessia sidled up to you with a smile. “Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” you replied, smiling back.

Behind your back, Steph and Katie shot each other a knowing look and a grin. 

“I meant to tell you, you played really well on Sunday,” the blonde said with pink cheeks. You weren’t sure if it was from the cold air or if she was blushing. 

“Oh, thank you!” you ducked your head, blushing a little. “So did you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “So, um, did you have a nice weekend? Aside from the game, I mean.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was good. I just stayed home and relaxed.”

“Yeah? What did you get up to?” she asked, eager to know more about you, but realised she might be pushing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry-

“It’s okay,” you said, cutting her off and placing a hand on her arm, and she blushed at the gesture. “I didn’t really get up to much, to be honest. I watched some TV, read a bit, did some puzzles, baked a little. And the boring stuff, like doing some washing, cleaning. But I guess the other stuff is kind of boring too.” 

“No, it’s not! It’s interesting! I like learning about you,” she said quickly, then blushed deeper pink. “Um, what kind of puzzles? Like, jigsaw puzzles?”

You laughed gently. “Oh, no, like, um, puzzle books? Things like sudoku, crosswords, that kind of thing. It’s my guilty pleasure,” you admitted.

“Wow, so you’re smart, then,” she teased with a laugh. 

“Girls! Less chatting, more moving!” Jonas shouted across the field at the two of you.

“Oops,” Alessia said, grinning. “I guess he has a point.”

As you were walking back to the changing rooms after training, Jen came up from behind, clapping both of you on the back.

“Right girls, monthly movie night on Friday,” she said. “You in?”

You waited a beat to see Alessia’s reaction, before nodding.

“Great! Less, we good to do it at your place?” 

The blonde rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Do I really have a choice?”

“Nope,” Jen said with a grin. “Thanks, Less!”

She ran off, yelling to Katie that movie night was good to go, and Alessia laughed. “I’m not sure why they’ve picked my place,” she said, shrugging. “Personally I think Beth and Viv’s place is the best for movie nights. Plus, any excuse to see Myle, right?”

You nodded, smiling. You’d gone to one movie night at Beth and Viv’s place, a couple weeks after you joined the club. You’d been in awe of how close knit the team was, wanting to be a part of it, but not sure how. You hadn’t really said much that time, opting to sit on the corner of the sofa, watching everyone else around you.

“You’ll come too, right?” Alessia asked, her voice hopeful, and you felt your heart skip when you realised she was hoping that you would come, hoping you’d be at her place. 

“Yeah!” you said, trying not to sound too eager. 

“Good!” she said, sounding relieved. 

For the next few days, you couldn’t stop thinking about the upcoming movie night. You knew it wasn’t a big deal, really. After all, it was a bigger group of the girls that were going to be there, not just the two of you. Still, that alone was a scary thought. You preferred your own company, or the company of just a few people rather than a big group. 

Despite knowing that the evening was in no way a special occasion, you decided to dress a little nicer than you normally would for a night in (meaning you wore the slightly nicer leggings rather than the stained jogging bottoms you used as pjs half the time), putting your favourite perfume on to give you a boost of confidence. As you got closer to Alessia’s house, though, your stomach started tying itself in knots. You forced yourself to keep going despite how nervous you felt about being at the other player’s home for the first time, and rang the doorbell. 

“Y/n, hi!” Alessia said, beaming when she opened the door. “Come in! Oh, you can leave your shoes and coat over there, if you want.”

She wouldn’t admit it, but she was nervous too. She’d spent far longer than usual tidying and preparing for the evening, and had swapped out the decorative cushions on her sofa three times before giving up. 

“Am I early?” you asked when you realised you were the only one there. 

“No, don’t worry! Some of the others just have a habit of being late. Half the time I tell Katie an earlier time than we’re actually planning, just so she shows up on time. Speak of the devil,” she said with a grin when another car pulled up outside.

20 minutes later, the others had all arrived as well. It was a smaller group than last time, just 9 of you, though you weren’t sure how many more than that would be able to fit into Alessia’s living room. You were a little disappointed when Katie arrived so soon after you had, enjoying the short-lived one on one time you were spending with her. 

Meanwhile, Alessia and Leah were in the kitchen, getting drinks for everyone.

“So, you and y/n have been spending a lot of time together,” Leah said casually. “What’s that about?”

Alessia blushed. “We’re… friends?”

“Is that right?” Leah said with a knowing grin.

“Okay, fine,” Alessia said, easily giving in to Leah’s knowing look. She glanced over her shoulder, checking that the kitchen door was closed before continuing. “I just think that she’s really cute, okay? And yeah, maybe I want to kiss her, so what?”

Suddenly she was being hugged tightly by Leah. “This is so exciting!” the older blonde squealed, making sure to keep her voice down. “You should tell her.”

“What?! No way,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “I have no idea if she feels the same way!”

“Oh, come on, she definitely does!” Leah insisted. “Haven’t you noticed that you’re, like, one of the only people y/n talks to on a daily basis? Full conversations, too!”

“Pfft, that doesn’t mean anything,” the younger player said, frowning. Did it mean something?

Leah sighed. “If you say so. Just remember, though: tonight is for your own good.” she said with a wink, and left the kitchen before Alessia could ask what the hell she was on about.

She started to get an idea about 15 minutes, when Steph, Kyra and Jen all got a text message and mysteriously had to leave. 5 minutes after that, Beth checked her phone and, not particularly convincingly, said, “Oh, the neighbour has just messaged me that she can hear Myle going crazy, we should head home and check on her.”.

Alessia raised an eyebrow. It didn’t take long for Leah and Katie to make up a similar excuse. The door swung closed behind them, and she turned to smile at you sheepishly. 

“And then there were two,” she said. “Sorry, I’m not sure what all that was about. This isn’t how movie nights usually go.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m kind of glad it’s just the two of us, rather than a big group,” you admitted shyly, internally cursing the blush you could already feel rising to your cheeks.

“Me too,” Alessia said with a smile. Before she could get another word out, however, the bluetooth speaker she kept in her training bag next to the door started blaring Love Story by Taylor Swift. The song was accompanied by a couple of car headlights flashing outside the window and some honks, and when the two of you looked out you could see Katie grinning from her car before she sped off, cutting off the music when she left the range of the speaker.

“Right, well, I feel like she didn’t quite think that through,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head at your teammates’ antics. 

Your cheeks were pink and thoughts were rushing through your mind. Did they know you liked her? Was that why they’d picked that song? And why they’d all left?

Alessia’s phone buzzed, and she checked it to find a message from Leah, saying ‘Just tell her! You’ve got this!! x’. She quickly turned her phone off again when you glanced over, and gestured towards the TV, where the film the girls had picked was still playing. 

“Want to keep watching?”

“Sure,” you nodded, though really you weren’t that interested. If it meant you got to hang out with Alessia longer though, you were all for it. You both sat down and started watching the film again, but it didn’t take long for the two of you to start chatting, the film playing in the background. 

“It’s good that your family were so supportive when you came out,” Alessia said.

“Yeah, they were really sweet, actually. To be honest, I kind of think they expected it, you know? Being a female footballer and all that,” you said, then quickly blushed, realising what you’d said. “Not that, um, all female footballers are gay, of course, I mean, I know you’re, um-”

She laughed gently, blushing a little. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. I think my family were actually surprised, really, when I never showed any interest in girls,” Up until now, she thought. “I’m just gonna, um, get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, thank you,” you said quickly, not wanting to make extra work for her. 

Grinning, she picked up your empty glass anyway and took it to the kitchen with her. When she was in there, she pulled out her phone, quickly texting Leah, ‘I don’t know how to tell her!’. She anxiously bit her lip as she waited for a reply, not realising that the water was overflowing in the glass. She swore under her breath when she realised, but was quickly distracted when a reply came through. ‘Tell her how you feel! That’s all you have to do x’. Well. That wasn’t particularly helpful.

She went back into the living room and set the glasses down on the coffee table. 

“So, when did you know you liked girls?” she asked, taking a sip of water.

“I think I always knew, really. I was just never that interested in boys, and I had a huge crush on a girl in my P.E. class in high school.”

“Oh, is that your type then? Sporty girls?” she teased, and you blushed. “Has, um, anyone caught your eye here then?”

“I, uh, I-” you stammered, cheeks burning. 

She laughed nervously. “Sorry, I’m teasing. Um, actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You could feel your heart pounding as you wondered where this was going. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I- well, I don’t think I am, um, straight, after all. At least, there’s at least one girl that I am interested in,” she said, sucking in a breath and looking at you with bright eyes. “You.”

“Me?” you squeaked, brain struggling to process what she was telling you. 

“I’m so sorry if I’ve made this awkward, if you don’t feel the same way, I’ve never done this before with a girl, and I really didn’t mean to make things awkward, we can just stay friends if you want, I’m so so happy to just be your friend as well-” Alessia rambled, barely pausing to take a breath until you put a hand on her leg, making her stop.

“I’m, um, interested in you, too,” you said shyly, unable to meet her gaze. There was a part of you that was still wondering if this was all a big joke. When Alessia’s hand cupped your cheek, you started to feel pretty sure it wasn’t.

“Really?” she asked, lifting your head so she could look you in the eyes.

“Really,” you told her.

You both leant in, gravitating towards one another, and you could barely breathe. You’d thought about this moment, dreamt about it. Whenever the two of you exchanged glances at training, when she laughed at something you said, when your hands brushed as you walked next to each other, you’d think about what it would be like to kiss her.

Now you were finally going to find out.

[godspeedviper]

How the therapists react to your "worst" symptoms - Headcanons

SFW || TW: mentions of self harm, mention of suicidal ideation, therapy sessions, very brief mention of (unlabeled) disordered eating, mention of psychosis & violent thoughts.

A/N: this was written by someone who has been in therapy for many years and has personal experience with these types of symptoms. this is not meant to romanticize any mental illness or symptoms of it. this is purely self indulgent fluff. just because your experience might be different doesn't make these experiences any less valid. if you don't like this simply do not read it, block if you must, and move on.

Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)

He is the most objective and detached of the lot. Therefore he never seems to have much of a reaction no matter what you do or say to him. He really has seen it all before. This does help you feel less anxious as time goes on, knowing he won't ever judge you or ascribe any kind of morality to your actions.

"If it causes you distress or harm, then we should work towards eliminating it altogether." is his typical response to your concerns about your own coping mechanisms. "You do not owe anyone kindness, just remember to restrain yourself from causing harm whenever possible."

He is the only one to have no discernible reaction to your self harm scars/burns. One day, he noticed an especially fresh one and offered to disinfect and bandage the wound for you. He always gives you space to bring things up at your own pace, when you feel comfortable doing so.

"Not all of us have the capacity to be so gentle, and that's alright." he says about your outbursts. "I'm not known for being the warmest, but that doesn't make me any less skilled at my work, or any less worthy of respect. If you do not hold my lack of socially acceptable agreeableness against me, then you should not hold it against yourself."

Bonus: when you finally have the courage to mention the substance usage he remains as cool and detached as ever. "I am glad you were honest with me so we can monitor for any interactions with your medications. Know that I won't judge you for moderate usage, after all, do we not professionally refer to medications as drugs? It isn't ideal, but it is a way of self medicating. All I ask is that you be fully honest with me about your usage so I can better take care of you."

Hannibal Lecter (NBC)

He is surprisingly gentle and very soft spoken, although you were intimidated by him at first and the opulence of his office. He usually greets you with a warm smile and asks how your week went and if you've eaten yet today. He teaches you to enjoy food again, describing it as an art, and asking you to be mindful and present when enjoying a meal. Listen to your body, what it tells you about the ingredients, the quality of the meal, and the hands that made it.

He always asks you what you want to do, making sure to actively include you in your own treatment plan. He thoroughly explains treatment options, medications and their possible side effects, and has you weigh your options. This allows you to really analyze your own reactions and act accordingly when you are alone.

"Now, you do understand I am required to recommend inpatient treatment if you are feeling actively suicidal." he says, when you come in on an extra bad day. "However, I want to trust you and give you the option of what to do from here. If you think it will do you more harm than good, let me know, but you have to be honest."

One day you get the courage to ask why there is a first aid kit on his desk, though you already assume why. He simply looks at you and asks "Do you need it today?" before gently tending to your recent self harm wounds. He never calls you out for it, but he does periodically ask you upfront if you've been engaging in self injurious behaviors. If you respond yes, he asks to tend to your wounds, and if you say no, he celebrates with you. "Good. I'm proud of you for holding yourself back."

Bonus: when you land in the hospital, Hannibal makes sure to go visit you while your therapy slot is on hold. He never calls attention to the circumstances that lead you here, and focuses solely on your recovery and how he can't wait to have you back in the office soon.

Harleen Quinzel (Harley Quinn)

It doesn't take long for her to shed her professional demeanor. She makes you feel like you're talking to a close friend, yet manages to never fully lose the "doctor" in her. She offers you fidget toys as a way to ease the tension of talking about such vulnerable and heavy subjects.

She makes everything into a little game or a challenge to motivate you changing habits. Every time you manage to avoid indulging in negative coping mechanisms, she rewards you with a little heart shaped chocolate at the end of the session. On bad days, she simply encourages you to try again and she gifts you a cute bandaid at the end of the session to signify your healing from a bad day (sometimes, the bandaids come in handy for self harm wounds).

"Being childish can be a good thing!" she tells you. "Its important to have a little whimsy in your life. Just because you grew up doesn't mean you have to... ya know, grow up." She encourages you to try and add a little joy to your daily life. You start taking fuzzy tipped pens to work and keeping plushies at home for comfort. Surprisingly, it does help.

Every now and again she asks for your advice or assistance on minor things, such as which dress she should wear for a date, or what show to watch next. Sure, you are technically paying for her time, but this fact alone doesn't entirely relieve you of the feeling that you are burdensome. Whenever that feeling creeps back up, she reminds you of all the times you helped her make decisions until you admit your usefulness with a smile.

Bonus: "Hearing voices or other noises doesn't make you evil." is her reply when she learns of your psychotic symptoms. "Everyone is susceptible to experiencing psychosis. Hell, I've felt it when I was losing sleep in med school. It doesn't make you a bad person."

Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs)

You are intimidated by him at first, but his hypnotic voice grows on you. He always sounds so self assured, but never assertive. He has an almost paternal quality to him, making you feel simultaneously comfortable and protected.

He always listens to you intently, you never feel ignored by him. Hannibal is the only one that makes you feel seen and you tell him as much. "Oh everyone sees you my dear, you can be assured of that, but not everyone has the courage to acknowledge you. Keep this in mind for the next time you should feel the urge to do something drastic for attention."

You were worried you would eventually do something to turn him away, as you had to so many therapists before him. However, he simply scoffs at the idea that you could ever do anything that could possibly frighten him or upset him.

When you finally have the courage to tell him about the violent intrusive thoughts he remains as calm as ever. "In the past, we humans had to hunt to survive. We also had to protect ourselves and our kin. As time goes on, that propensity for violence remains, even if our survival is no longer dependent on it."

Bonus: You come clean to him about getting into a fight with someone, being entirely overtaken by rage and paranoia. You call yourself a monster and cry. "I have worked with serial killers, family annihilators, rapists the worst that the world has to offer. I know monsters. You are not one. You wanna know why?" You nod yes. "Because my dear, you have remorse and regret for your actions, they do not. Besides, you would not be sitting here with me if you did not want the anger to control you."

AO3 || Guidelines || Request || Ko-Fi

[dira333]

Of hearing aids and other worries - Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

This was inspired by @alienaiver and her Amethyst Haze Preview. With her permission, I created Bakugo's love story. You don't have to read her Preview first, but I would advise you to read it. It's going to be more fun that way.

You can hear the key slide into the lock before it stops halfway, your own key blocking it.

Only a fraction of a second later someone bangs on the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You yell, rushing toward the door. Katsuki has the worst patience.

“Jeez,” he sneers as soon as the door opens, “Why do you keep the key in?”

“So freaks like you can’t break in.”

“It’s not breaking in when I have a key.”

“You don’t have a key, you just know where it’s hidden.”

“Very poorly too,” he points out as he slides out of his shoes and marches through your apartment as if he’s got his eyes on a villain and not your stove.

“Oh yes, come in,” you tell him with as much snark as you can muster - which is a lot. “How nice having you here, what brings you over?”

“What are you making?” He lifts the lid of your pot and sniffs. “How much Chili did you add?”

“Curry and enough. I know how to cook.”

He harrumphs at that, going through your spice drawer.

“At least try it before you ruin it.”

“HA?!” He turns, brows furrowed. “I know how to cook!”

Annoyed, you hip check him out of the way. “Sure you do, now get me something to drink and get out of my way.”

“Let me-” You glare up at him. “Out of my way!”

“Fine,” he huffs, moving past you in a way that’s much too close, his hips brushing your thighs in the crowded kitchen. He smells like sweet sweat and laundry detergent, a scent so distinctly Katsuki you’ve been able to pick him out of crowds just by that. It helps to have an overpowered nose.

“Shinsou has this tea,” he adds as he stares into your fridge, trying to decide. “It tastes great.”

Ah. So that’s where he went during Lunch.

“And you didn’t bring me any?”

“I don’t know where he got it,” Katsuki huffs. He picks a bottle of Barley tea for himself and your favorite drink for you, doesn’t mention the fact that you have too many different drinks - most of them his favorites - in an apartment meant for one.

But that’s just it. 

You might be his coworker on paper, one of the three assistants that make him being the Number Two Hero possible, but that doesn’t explain all the other things.

Like cooking Dinner for two because he had an appointment during Lunch and you knew he’d show up unannounced.

Still. You’re his coworker on paper and maybe his friend, but there are still borders that are hard to cross.

Do you ask him about his appointment? Do you ask him about Shinsou? 

If he met with Shinsou after his appointment then it’s something bad, right? He only visits Shinsou if he needs to talk about something he doesn’t feel comfortable talking to Midoriya or Kirishima about.

“Food’s burning,” Katsuki points out from where he’s leaning against the fridge and you curse under your breath as you start stirring again.

You cook quietly after that, not that there’s much more to do than wait and stir and wait some more. It’s your favorite pastime, really, cooking with him. 

Sometimes you let him do the cooking, pretend he’s won the constant argument of who’s better at the stove. It’s fun to lean back and watch him focus, tease him by pretending to mess with his food when he’s busy doing something else. Like dropping a bit more salt into the soup when he’s frying the chicken for example.

But it’s even better when it’s the other way around, when he relaxes in your presence, showing a softer side of him you rarely get to see.

Right now he’s leaning heavy against your poor fridge, ruby eyes moving over your figure in that gentle way you’ve begun to crave. 

“Drink something,” he points out softly, nudging his own bottle in your direction. At first you think it’s a mistake. You don’t like Barley tea that much, especially cold, and you have your own bottle to drink from not much further away.

But there’s a Challenge in his eyes that you can never back down from so you pick up the bottle and press your lips where his have been minutes ago, taking a sip of the cold Barley tea. It tastes disgusting but it’s worth the soft pink blooming on his cheeks.

“Now,” you say, well aware that your voice sounds weirdly tight, “Set the table. Food’s ready.”

“So bossy,” he points out, his elbow nudging your side as he moves to get the bowls. That’s not accidental, you know. Katsuki has a habit of being touchy when no one else is around. 

-

It’s only after Dinner when you’ve retired to the Couch, the dishes sitting in the dishwasher, that he picks up the conversation again.

“Went to see Shinsou today,” he points out, his socked left foot tapping the underside of your bare right. It tickles but you don’t pull away. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He huffs. “He said I should retire.”

You laugh. “He didn’t.” You know him well enough to know when he’s exaggerating. 

Instead of answering Katsuki leans forward grabs your feet and pulls them into his lap. It’s not really comfortable, sitting like this, your back now too far down in the pillows, your chin digging into your chest to properly look at him.

But you don’t say anything, not even when his thumb digs into your bare skin, rubbing an anxious circle over your ankle.

“I don’t wanna retire.”

You don’t answer, just look at him. He huffs, averting his eyes. You can smell the anxiety rolling off him in waves and sigh, pushing yourself up and closer to him.

“What did the Doctor say?”

Angry red spots grow like poppies on his face and neck. “He didn’t-!”

“Katsuki,” you nudge his thigh with your feet, your legs still in his lap. “What did he say?”

“I’m losing my hearing.”

“I know,” your voice is soft. You’ve been over this before. As far as you know you’re the only one of his assistants who knows just how bad it already is. His hearing aids are well hidden, good enough that you wouldn’t know he has them in right now if you didn’t know better.

“I’m losing it faster than we thought.”

“What about protectors?”

Katsuki groans, loud and feral like a beast trying to break free. “Why are you all so obsessed with my protectors?”

“Because they’re supposed to be helping?”

“But they look stupid!”

This time you kick his thighs with enough force to push him further down the Couch.

“What the-”

“Bakugo!” You hiss, rage coursing through you. “Put your Ego in check! This is about your health right now!”

“This isn’t about my Ego!” He booms, getting in your face.

“The hell it isn’t! You’re too worried about what others think!” You bite back just as enraged.

“I don’t care what others think! I care what you think!” 

All fight leaves you as you blink, wiping his spit off your face.

“What?”

“Forget it!” Katsuki pushes your legs off his lap and gets up, trying to get away. He stumbles over one of your slippers and barely catches himself, giving you enough time to rush after him, reaching him in the hallway.

“Stop!” You sling your arms around his midriff, face pressed into his back. “Stop, right now!”

“No!” He sounds like a child. 

“Yes. We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.” You press your face against his back, smell the sweetness of his sweat. If you press your whole face against his back, does this count as kissing him?

“I don’t care what you look like,” you blunder ahead, embarrassed by your own thoughts.

“Thanks,” he snaps, moving for the door, pulling you along.

“I’m already in love with you,” you burst out, trying to save what’s left to save. 

For about half a second, Katsuki freezes in your grip. 

But then, everything happens fast, too fast for you to react. 

He pulls your hands apart and steps out of your grip, through the open door without once looking back.

-

Sleep is evading you.

A part of you is convinced that Katsuki will be back. 

After all, there have been too many signals, too many things that indicate he likes you back. He’s said it himself tonight. He cares what you think of him.

But there’s still a part of you, a part that’s anxious and scared and desperate, that’s just as convinced that you’ll never see him again.

Better start looking for a new job now.

Something brushes against the windows of your living room. 

You sit up, listening closely.

There it is again. Too loud to be a cat or a branch.

You move to the side of your bed, pulling out the baseball bat you keep close for safety. A street lamp throws golden light through your bedroom window, almost reaching the bed. You slip out of it, hiding in the shadows, pressed against the wall as someone approaches your bedroom window.

The frame screeches as it’s pushed open.

“I’m armed,” you point out, your voice rough with anxiety, “So you better think twice before you get in here or I’ll knock your head right off.”

“Jeez!” The voice is familiar, the surprised gasp even more. “It’s me.”

“Katsuki?” You flip the light on, glare at him blinking back at you. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You took the key from me,” he points out. “Couldn’t get in through the door.”

“You could have just called! Or texted!”

“This is easier.” He slips in fully, closing the window behind him. “And how do you call that armed? I could have beaten you easily.”

“Try it,” you swing your bat and he steps back, turning serious.

“Can we talk?”

“I’m not the one who ran away.”

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I kinda freaked out a little.”

“Kinda.” You drop your bat and walk back to your bed, slipping under the covers.

“You coming?” You ask when he eyes you from the window.

“Are you serious?”

You roll your eyes and sit up. “Talk.”

“I’m going deaf.”

“So?”

“I’m going deaf!” He yells this time. You grimace at the sound, already seeing the next noise complaint. 

Instead of answering, you raise your hands, sign three words you’ve said before. 

“I don’t care.”

All fight leaves him as if pulled out of him with a single breath. You can’t even call it standing, what he does, almost keeling over.

“Come into bed,” you offer again, this time flipping the cover back. “And just accept it.”

“Why though?” He asks, not moving an inch.

“Would you care less about me if I turned deaf right now?”

“No, of course not!”

“So why do you think I would?”

He snorts. “I know my flaws.”

“Well, if anyone asks why I love you I’ll just say your charming nature did me in.”

Katsuki laughs. “You really are serious.”

“Never have I ever been more serious. Are you coming now?”

Finally, finally, he moves, pulling his shirt off and stepping out of his trousers, slipping under the covers.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” he points out just seconds before you slide over and into his arms. 

“Don’t care,” you point out, head settling on his chest. “And if you dare move away again, I’ll bite you.”

He chuckles, his grip on you tightening. You’re pretty sure you don’t imagine his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“Tomorrow,” you tell him, sleep coming in fast now, “We’ll talk about ear protectors.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

[hvlplvss]

| have yourself a merry little christmas

| colby brock x reader

summary: in which colby brock has never liked the idea of christmas. he’s never enjoyed it or wanted to celebrate by decorating. but his girlfriend loves the holiday. decorating the house in anyway she could. but a few words may cause colby’s hate for christmas to melt.

warnings: angst, reader cries, colby says a few means things lol, happy ending though !!

authors note: this is inspired by a steve harrington fic i saw last xmas, but the author has deactivated their account!!! but credits to them for this idea :)

colby brock has never really liked christmas. he always thought of it as a burden. having to decorate the house and be all cheery for an entire month, just to celebrate one day.

he didn’t understand why he hated it so much; but he just did. he couldn’t get behind the idea of christmas, or decorating, or christmas trees. you name it, colby brock probably didn’t like it.

however his girlfriend y/n, adored christmas. it was her favourite time of the year and it had been ever since she was young. she loved decorating and making the holiday special for the younger ones in her family. she loved the presents, she loved the food and the whole idea.

so when christmas was quickly approaching, y/n couldn’t help but speak about the holiday. she would sometimes speak to colby about it, despite knowing he didn’t love the day. but her and sam would talk about it as sam would listen to the girl yap about christmas.

seen as it was their first christmas together and y/n had come to realise that colby did in fact not like christmas, she made it her goal to make him enjoy it this year.

y/n had already begun preparing little things for christmas. it was only the middle of november and she had already planned the christmas tree, the lights which she’d put up outside, the gifts she was getting everyone. and by everyone, it meant everyone.

anyone who she would call a friend, or even a civil friendship, would receive a gift from the girl. wether it be bought or handmade, she’d make sure everyone got something this christmas.

but as the days slowly crept round to the first of december, y/n was ecstatic.

colby’s eyes slowly opened, squinting due to the lack of sleep the boy received last night after coming home from a meeting at silly o’clock in the morning.

he noticed the empty space in the bed beside him. y/n wasn’t there. which was strange and unusual as usually the girl was the last one to wake up between the two off them.

he reached for his phone checking the time, which read 6:37am.

what was y/n doing? there was no way she chose to be up at this time in the morning. it’s not like she had anything special going on today.

colby gave himself a minute to fully wake up, stretching his legs and arms and closing his eyes one last time before sliding out the side of the bed.

colby walked downstairs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. this is why she was awake so early. he thought.

the whole downstairs of the house was now silver with christmas decorations. tinsel, little trinkets of decoration, a christmas countdown which had rotating blocks so you could change it every morning.

“y/n?” colby called out. there were a few moments of rustling and a box being put down.

y/n came into view from the kitchen door, adorned in fluffy socks and a big christmas jumper that was many sizes too big for her.

“what’s going on?” colby asked, “why does the house look so ‘christmassy’” colby shuddered at the word as though it was bad for him to say it.

“it’s the first of december, colbs!” y/n beamed, “it’s finally christmas time!”

colby strolled into the kitchen, looking at what y/n was doing.

she was baking. baking christmas cookies. and she might as well be feeding the entire state with the amount she had made.

“what are all these for?” he asked.

“christmas cookies! i’m gonna take them to the nursing home,” she explained, “i’ve done it every year!” she pulled a rack out the oven and placed even more cookies on the side. “you don’t think i’ve gone overboard right?”

“what? no? i think it’s sweet, y/n,”

“okay, good. i mean if i’ve made to many they can always have two each, or maybe even three!”

colby placed a hand on his girlfriends cheek, “hey, calm down. it’ll be fine, i promise you,” he spoke softly, “but maybe just also calm down on all the decorations, yeah?”

y/n faltered at his words, “you don’t like them?” she asked disheartened.

“no, i-i do. just… just not use to it, yeah?” colby answered quickly, not wanting to upset her.

she nodded in response, looking back over her cookies once more. “right, i’m going to let these cool down, then get ready and go out to give them to the nursing home and then come home and decorate the tree!” she planned.

colby sighed, trying to hide his slight annoyance that he was coming to terms with. he loved the girl, but he hated this christmas spirit she had.

y/n had arrived home after successfully handing out her christmas cookies, 174 cookies to be exact, (she now realised she may have gone overboard).

y/n walked through the front door, taking her shoes off, leaving them next to colby’s.

as she strolled through the house, she arrived into the living room where colby was sat with his laptop.

she stood behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“hey colbs,” she smiled.

colby looked up to look at his girlfriend, he smiled back at her and kissed her lips. “how was it?” he asked.

“good! they were happy to see me again! said i should go see them more often,” she told colby.

“bless them. they probably don’t get many visitors so they’re probably pleased to see you!” he answered, to which y/n nodded.

colby turned back to his laptop as y/n had walked away into the corner of the living room.

she opened a box which held various christmas tree decorations. she’d used the box for as many christmases as she could remember, it even had some of the baubles that her parents had bought when she was a toddler.

y/n slowly began decorating the tree, adding the lights, the baubles, the tinsel and so on.

but it took her quite some time due to her being an extreme perfectionist and if things weren’t equal on the tree, she’d restart or take the last few things off and then redo them.

so to say it took y/n a long time to decorate the tree was an understatement. she was an hour and 45 minutes in and she still hadn’t finished.

colby was still sat in the same spot on the couch, growing slightly agitated with his girlfriend.

she was talking to herself, muttering and whispering ideas. and as harsh as it sounds, she was really getting on his nerves. he was just trying to edit a video for the channel, but y/n couldn’t be quiet.

her voice broke him out of his thoughts, “colbs? which do you think looks better? the silver bauble or the gold bauble?” he looked up, glaring, but y/n was too carried away to even notice the change in his demeanour.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged, “silver?” colby answered, looking back down at his laptop.

y/n turned back to the christmas tree, deciding wether to go with her boyfriends advice or not.

y/n had officially finished decorating the christmas tree, after nearly two and a half hours, she only had one job left to do which was the star on top.

but the tree seemed to have quite a big height advantage on the girl, so she turned back around to colby.

“colbs, can you help me put the star on?” he tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard y/n, hoping that she would leave it and work the problem out herself; but she didn’t. “colbs?”

colby’s head snapped up, “what?!”

“can you help me put the star on, please?” she asked sheepishly.

“look!” colby began, placing his laptop off of his lap, “i’m trying to work, okay? but you are just constantly talking or asking me something about christmas or the decorations! when i don’t even care! i’m sick of all this christmas shit, y/n!”

y/n’s eyes glossed over at his harsh voice and choice of words and her bottom lip quivered.

“oh,” she spoke quietly.

colby could see what he had done. why did he get angry? why did he yell at her? he made her upset and he could tell.

y/n turned around and placed the star down back in the box, then turning to walk out of the living room, “y/n! wait- i didn’t-” but y/n shook her head and walked out of the room, heading upstairs.

colby shook his head and sighed, “fuck,” well done colby, well done.

y/n had been significantly quieter that day. when colby came upstairs for bed, y/n didn’t speak unless colby spoke to her first. she hadn’t even left the room due to how embarrassed she felt.

but the following day, y/n was still asleep when colby woke up. so, he quietly got dressed, trying not to wake y/n up, knowing it’d be an awkward encounter for the couple. plus colby also wanted to go food shopping as they began running out of food in their fridge and should stock up before everything runs out in the stores.

so while colby was out, y/n had gone about the house and took down each decoration. she didn’t want colby to feel annoyed by all the christmas things.

she just wanted to warm him up to the idea of christmas, but from what he said last night, it clearly wasn’t working.

taking down the christmas tree was way quicker than putting it up, y/n came to realise.

once everything had been tucked back into their boxes, y/n had gone back upstairs to just lay down in bed. ever since colby said that, y/n had felt a lack of energy. she was hurting. she was so excited for her first christmas with colby, but it wasn’t going the way she hoped.

sam had stopped by the couples house, dropping off the other laptop they shared for editing videos. the boy let himself in as he’d been allowed a key to the house, due to his frequent visits.

“colby? y/n?” he called out.

y/n walked out of her room grudgingly, walking down the stairs. “hi,” she said.

“hey,” he answered, “are you okay?”

he could tell something was up. she wasn’t being cheery like she had been on the lead up to december, or when she spoke about how excited she was for it to be december soon enough. she nodded.

“where’s all the decorations?” sam asked, looking around the house, “i thought you said you were gonna decorate on the first, and it’s now the second?”

y/n looked down, trying to come up with an excuse, “oh, i just had a really busy day yesterday, i didn’t find the time to,” she lied.

sam nodded, not believing her in the slightest. “i was coming to give colby this, but i’ll just tell him to drop by before he comes home,” y/n nodded, “call me if you need anything, yeah?”

“yeah,” she muttered, “bye sam,”

“bye y/n,” he turned back around, closing the door behind him.

sam hopped into his car, pulling his phone out of his pocket and going to message sam.

stop by mine later, need to give you the other laptop and also need to speak to you

colby had just arrived outside of sam’s appartment. he stepped out the car and walked to the house, opening the door.

“sam!” colby yelled. the said boy walked out from the kitchen and to colby, “you alright?” colby asked.

“yeah, just need to ask a few things and also give you the laptop,” sam answered, walking back into the kitchen, colby following his trail.

“yeah, what’s up?”

sam sighed, “why is your house not decorated?” sam asked. colby furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “i mean, y/n wouldn’t stop talking about how excited she was to decorate and how she was gonna do it on the first, but when i stopped by earlier there was nothing,”

“wait- what do you mean, there was nothing?” colby asked, slightly puzzled.

“i stopped by, and there were no decorations. like at all. it looked like your everyday house. no signs of christmas, at all,” sam explained.

colby thought about it for a moment, taking a seat at the kitchen island. “shit,” he muttered, placing his head in his hands.

“what?”

colby sighed, “i got angry yesterday, when y/n was decorating. she kept asking me questions and i was really rude and i yelled at her. i saw her face, sam. she was nearly crying, i mean she probably did cry, but she kept it hidden from me,” colby explained, “fuck! i feel so awful, sam,”

sam shook his head, “you should have heard her before. she rarely spoke to you about it cause she knew you hated it, so she’d talk to me about christmas things. but she was so excited for it, colby. you’ve messed this up, bro,”

“i know…” he sighed, “i just- i’m not use to it, and i know that doesn’t excuse it, because it doesn’t, i shouldn’t have gotten angry,”

“glad you realised that!” sam answered.

tomorrow was christmas. the day y/n was once looking forward to, but now didn’t even want to hear anything about it. she’d gone to bed quite early on christmas eve due to working all day.

colby had said he’d be up to bed in a few hours as he had a few things left to catch up on, like meetings and editing things and so on.

but colby didn’t come to bed until 3:27 in the morning.

colby spent six hours decorating downstairs. decorating the house how y/n had once made it. making it christmassy. how a house should be.

he even went shopping to buy all the food he would need for the dinner the next day. especially as the boy had invited everyone and everybody round for christmas dinner.

he had been so busy that time went quicker than he thought it had. he didn’t even notice when the clock struck 3am how long he’d actually been busy for.

and as he reached to put the star on the tree, he remembered what he said that day where he ruined y/n’s christmas cheer. but he hoped this would bring it back.

sure, colby still didn’t understand the whole christmas idea, but if it made his girlfriend happy, then he would learn about the christmas spirit.

when y/n woke up that dreaded morning, she noticed that colby was missing. she assumed he’d left as maybe he felt awkward, or that he’d gone to visit sam early.

but when y/n actually came round and fully woke up, she noticed the smell coming from downstairs. y/n furrowed her brows in confusion, so she stood up out from her bed and walked out of her room.

as she looked down the stairs she realised what colby had done.

the entire house had become ‘christmassy’. colby had redone all of y/n’s decorations and exactly how she had done them. everything was the same.

“colbs?” y/n called out.

colby rounded the corner of the kitchen, a smile playing on his lips, “d’you like it?” he asked.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully, running to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“i love it, colbs. thank you,” she whispered.

“no, thank you,” he said, placing his hands on her face, making her look at him, “i was horrible to you that day. you were so excited about christmas and i ruined that, i’m so sorry,” he apologised.

y/n leaned in to kiss colby’s lips gently, planting a soft kiss to them. “i forgive you,” she replied, “but pleaseeeee can i give you your gifts now? i’ve been waiting for months to give you them!”

[parkerslatte]

Warm Me Up

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: light smut

Summary: While the Y/N and Eris are attending meetings on the continent, they are caught in a snow storm and stumble across a cabin. They need to spend the night as they are snowed in.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The storm showed no signs of stopping and even with Eris beside her, Y/N could still feel the cold creeping into her body. The fur cape draped over her shoulders didn’t even block out the cold. She couldn’t even feel her feet anymore. Beside her, Eris kept his head held high as he looked for any possible shelter, Y/N would help but if she even lifted her head from the confines of the fur cape, she was sure she would simply freeze to death. 

Once the storm had begun to pick up miles back, Eris had kept them contained within a ring of fire that prevented any snow from landing on them and kept them warm. However the more they walked, the more Eris began to tire until the ring of fire simply vanished from existence, leaving the two to face the cold alone. 

As Y/N walked, she could feel her legs get heavier and heavier, they gradually got harder to move. Y/N knew that Eris would be able to walk a lot faster than their current pace but he remained by her side, he slowed his pace when she did and quickened it when she did. Every single step they took was side by side. 

“There!” Eris suddenly exclaimed, voice shouting over the wind. “A cabin!”

Y/N looked in the direction of Eris’s pointed finger and relief filled her body. If she had to walk any further, she was sure her legs would give out and she would die being buried by snow. Both of them quickened their pace, or as much as they possibly could, and headed for the cabin. It might have been inhabited but Y/N didn’t particularly care. She would force her way in no matter who lived there. 

The cabin came closer and closer in view but was being blocked out by the storm. It was somehow getting worse and Y/N struggled to fight her way through the thick snow. Her heart hammered in her chest. I’m not going to make it, she thought.

“Y/N!” Eris shouted, his arm wrapping around her waist. “Don’t give up now, we’re nearly there!”

Eris helped her on the final stretch to the cabin. There were no lights on and the place seemed to be abandoned. Y/N felt Eris push her forward to open the door first before he followed just behind her, slamming the door and barring it in place. 

They both panted, trying to catch their breath. Y/N clutched onto the fur cape draped around her tightly. The cabin was void of any indication someone was living inside. There was a worn out couch in the corner of the room, sitting in front of a large fireplace. A bed was pushed against the opposite side of the room, there was a simple blanket and a pillow on it. Nothing comfortable, Y/N thought. There was a small kitchen area that seemed to hold the bare minimum although some of the pans were clearly rusted. The only other room in the cabin seemed to be a small bathroom just off from the bedroom filled with a sink, toilet and a bath. It could be worse.

“It’s a travellers cabin,” Eris explained as he caught his breath. “It’s free to use for anyone traversing the land.”

“It looks as if no one has used it in years,” Y/N commented.

Eris shrugged. “It’s most likely no one has. It is a few days until the next city.”

Y/N watched Eris’s gaze become focused on the fireplace and before she could stop him, he flicked his hand and a large fire roared to life. 

“Why would you do that?” Y/N exclaimed. “You needed to rest and save your energy.”

“You are cold,” Eris answered. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Y/N replied. “Don’t do that again.”

“Why?” Eris cocked his head. “Would you rather we cuddle together for warmth?”

Y/N flushed. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

Eris placed a hand against his chest. “I should be offended Y/N. Your High Lord offers to cuddle together and you decline? Many would kill you just to have this opportunity.”

Y/N rolled her eyes before walking over to the couch to sit in front of the fire. Of course when Eris originally asked her to attend a few meetings on the continent with him, she accepted. After all, Eris was her friend. But now as she sat shivering, even in front of a fire, she was beginning to regret that decision. 

“If the storm clears by the morning, we can leave at daybreak,” Eris said, taking a seat next to Y/N, his arms brushing against hers. 

“How much longer do you think it will take us to get to the next city?” Y/N asked, her gaze turning to focus on Eris. 

Snow still clung to his auburn hair and Y/N found herself reaching forward to brush it away. As soon as her hand came closer, Eris tensed but as she began to run her fingers through his hair, he relaxed, leaning closer to her. “Sorry,” she apologised, as if she just realised what she was doing. “You still had some snow in your hair.”

Y/N pulled her hand away and pulled out a map from inside her cloak, completely missing the disappointed expression on Eris’s face. 

“It will be another two days before we reach our destination,” Eris responded. “I am unsure if there are any other travellers cabins but there are caves to the west, we can take shelter in those if needed.”

Y/N snorted. “Eris Vanserra. Willingly taking shelter in a cave. I never thought I would see the day.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “I can make myself comfortable even in dire circumstances, my dear. IF a cave is the only shelter there is, I will happily make a home in it.” Eris paused as if thinking of his next words carefully. “I am surrounded by company I feel safe in, I am sure I would be able to sleep in the middle of a forest completely unarmed and still have my full eight hours uninterrupted.”

Y/N’s expression softened. “You feel safe around me?”

Eris’s eyes met Y/N’s. An emotion she had never seen before, swimming within the two pools of molten lava. From the moment Y/N had met Eris nearly seventy years ago, she had only ever seen the wall of fire within his eyes.The barrier he had put up to hide himself around any company that could possibly endanger anything he was protecting. When Y/N first met Eris, that wall of fire was the only thing she saw when she looked at him. Now, whenever Y/N looked into his eyes, she saw nothing of the sort. She only saw the loyalty, love and the passion that he had for his family and his court. 

Y/N leaned closer to him as Eris cleared his throat and stood up from the couch. “We should be getting to sleep soon. You can take the bed, I will sleep on the couch as soon as you move from it.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, you take the bed, Eris. With your long legs, you wont even fit on the couch. I’ll sleep here, it’s fine.”

Eris folded his arms across his chest. “I am not allowing you to sleep on the couch, Y/N. You were nearly freezing to death out there.”

Y/N rose to her feet and stared up at Eris. His perfectly shaped brows were pointed down in a frown as he stared at her. He said softly, “You take the bed, Y/N.”

Y/N broke eye contact with Eris and glanced at the bed on the other side of the room. It wasn’t too small but it wasn’t the largest bed in existence either. But it did have enough room to fit the two of them. 

“We could share it,” Y/N suggested, suddenly sheepish. “If neither of us want the other to sleep on the couch.”

Eris quickly glanced at the bed then back to Y/N. There seemed to be a small red tinge to his cheeks but Y/N couldn’t tell if it was a blush or just from the cold. 

“Only if you are comfortable with that, Y/N,” Eris replied. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N reached forward to gently squeeze his hand. “You could never make me uncomfortable, Eris.”

Eris offered her one of his rare smiles and pulled her gently over to the bed. Y/N felt her heart beating faster and faster the longer he held onto her hand. That one touch alone sent her senses into overdrive. Ever since she first met Eris, Y/N had always thought that he was beautiful. But as she got to know the real him, the harder she fell for him. Nearly fifty years she had been harbouring feelings for her friend, never brave enough to tell him. 

Eris sat down on the bed and unbuckled his boots as he slowly undressed, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. Y/N’s eyes bulged out of her head for two reasons. The first being that she was staring at his bare muscular body. And the second reason being that it was freezing and Eris was standing there like the cold didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

Eris turned around and noticed Y/N’s expression, his signature smirk plastered across his face. “Do you like what you see, Y/N?”

Y/N’s eyes dropped down to his bare chest, then torso, then…lower, before reaching his eyes again. “Are you not cold?”

Eris shook his head. “I only feel a slight chill, nothing I can’t handle.”

The only items of clothing Y/N took off were her boots at cloak, though she was visibly shaking from how cold it was. Without another word, both Y/N and Eris laid down on the bed, only a couple of inches between their bodies. The heat radiating from Eris warmed Y/N but not too much she was still shivering. 

Y/N closed her eyes and shuffled on the bed to try and get comfortable but it was barely any use, she was wearing too many layers. With a huff, Y/N opened her eyes and she let out a quiet gasp at how close her face was to Eris. In her desire to simply lay down and get warm, Y/N failed to notice the singular pillow occupying the bed. The pillow both her head and Eris’s rested on. 

Y/N’s gasp made Eris open his eyes and he too let out a small sound of surprise. From up close, Y/N could see the small faint freckles that littered his cheeks and nose. She could also notice the many different shades that made up his eye colour. It wasn’t just one colour like she had originally thought, it was many different shades working and mixing together to create, in Y/N’s opinion, the most beautiful colour she had ever seen. 

Neither of the two moved away as they looked into each other's eyes, heads resting on the same pillow. Y/N’s whole body was cold yet she felt like Eris’s gaze alone had set her alight. She knew that she shouldn’t be having feelings for her best friend but the way he looked at her, sent her body into overdrive. 

“You’re shivering,” Eris commented. 

“I’m cold,” Y/N responded, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Do you trust me?” Eris questioned.

“With my life,” Y/N said with absolute certainty. 

There was a brief look of longing in Eris’s eyes before he lifted his head from the pillow. A disappointed feeling washed over Y/N. 

“Take off your clothes,” Eris said. “It sounds strange, but trust me.”

“Your idea to warm me up is by stripping layers?” Y/N chuckled but complied. 

As she shrugged off her thick jacket, Eris’s eyes didn’t leave hers and she flushed. The intensity sent a flock of butterflies free in her stomach. With each layer she stripped, the colder she got, yet the feeling of Eris’s eyes on her somehow made it all worth it. The whole time he never broke eye contact. 

Her final layer was just a shirt and as she slowly stripped it off, Y/N caught Eris’s eye drop from her eyes to gaze upon her body before snapping back to her face. 

Y/N shivered as a particularly strong gust travelled through the cabin. “What now? If this was all just a plot to get me naked, Eris. I swear to the–”

Eric cut her off with a chuckle. “It wasn’t, although I like what I am seeing.” This time as his gaze dipped, he didn’t try to hide it. Y/N swore she could feel a heated path where Eris’s gaze drifted. 

“Come here,” Eris said and Y/N complied, getting back into the bed and under the thin blanket. 

Before Y/N had the chance to complain about the cold, Eris pulled close until his chest was pressed firmly against her back. The bare skin to skin contact was enough to send Y/N’s body into overdrive. Eris’ s strong arms wrapped around her middle and his legs tangled with hers. Y/N stared wide eyed at the wall in front of her. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N questioned. 

Eris didn’t respond but Y/N suddenly felt her body get warmer and she sighed and relaxed into Eris’s arms. “How are you doing that?”

“I can share my body heat,” Eris explained. “It only works with skin to skin contact.”

The warmth Y/N felt was unlike no other. Whilst the fire in the corner of the room had warmed her to a degree, making her hands and feet tingle back to life, the warmth she felt wrapped within Eris’s arms made her entire being warm. It was more than just skin deep, it encased her lungs, her heart, her brain, everywhere where Eris touched. 

“How did I not know you could do this?” Y/N questioned.

“Well, you and I have never been in this position before,” Eris teased. 

Y/N sighed, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Were you that desperate to get your hand on me?” 

The cabin was silent as Y/N anticipated his reply. Of course she was only expecting his usual witty flirtatious remark that meant nothing. But what Eris said sent her spiralling. 

“I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for a long time, Y/N.”

There was no joking tone within his voice, nor was it flirtatious. It was genuine and sincere. Y/N froze as Eris’s arms tightened around her body. 

“You cannot mean that, Eris.”

“Of course I mean it,” Eris muttered, his voice low and his breath brushed her ear.

Eris’s fingers traced slow teasing circles on the bare skin of Y/N’s upper thigh. It sent shivers down her spine and made her heart beat rapidly. With a tilt of her head, their eyes locked. Eris’s eyes were intense as his fingertips gripped her plush thigh tightly causing Y/N to gasp. A magnetic force drew them together as Y/N began to lean forward. Never would she expect that Eris would want her the way she wanted him, and now it was happening and Y/N could hardly believe it. The air was thick with anticipation and Eris’s signature smirk toyed at the corners of his lips. 

“You really mean that,” Y/N whispered, though this time it was more of a statement than a question. 

Eris's answer came when he lowered his lips to hers in a searing kiss. It was everything Y/N had always imagined. His kiss sent her nerves on fire as Eris manoeuvred himself so he hovered above Y/N on the bed. Y/N’s fingers tangled in Eris’s tousled hair and pulled him closer, not wanting there to be an inch between their bodies. His hands explored the curves of her body, finally allowing the desire building within him to tip over the edge. 

Eris deepened the kiss as his tongue teased the seam of Y/N’s lips. To tease him, Y/N denied his entry. Eris only smirked against her lips as his hand trailed to her legs before harshly parting them and slotting himself between them. Y/N gasped, allowing for Eris’s tongue to dart within. His tongue explored her mouth with an intensity that left them both breathless. 

“I have waited so long to do this,” Eris mumbled against her lips. 

“Then why did it take you so long?” 

“I was not sure how you felt about me,” he admitted, trailing kisses across her jaw and down her neck.

Y/N closed her eyes and gripped onto him tighter. “And how are you so sure now?”

Eris’s hips moved against hers the smallest amount and caused a soft moan to slip past Y/N’s lips. “That’s why.”

As soon as Eris’s lips connected with Y/N’s once more, she wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing Eris to rest his weight on top of her. There was not a single point where their bodies weren’t connected. 

“You are beautiful,” Eris said, with complete sincerity in his eyes. 

“And so are you,” Y/N responded.

Eris scoffed playfully. “I know I am. I just wanted to tell you because I assume you don’t hear it often.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to kick you outside in the cold snow storm?”

Eris laughed before all the humour washed from his face. “But you truly are beautiful, Y/N. I don’t tell you that enough.”

Y/N smiled. “Then show me how beautiful I am.”

“That I can do, my love,” Eris replied.

Their bodies moved rhythmically as they explored one another, limbs entangled in a passionate embrace. As Eris’s mouth found its place on her neck once more, Y/N’s back arched, wanting to be closer to him. She was sure she had never felt so much desire for one person before, and she didn’t want to feel this way with anyone else. Y/N only wanted Eris. 

Y/N rolled her hips to meet Eris and she could feel his hardened length press against her. A guttural moan slipped past his lips and all Y/N wanted to do was elicit that sound from him again. So she did. With each roll of her hips, Eris moaned into the crook of her neck, breathing heavily. 

“Please slow down,” Eris whispered into her ear.

“Why?” Y/N challenged. “You’re going to finish so soon?”

“No,” Eris replied, nipping at her ear before he pulled back and looked deep in her eyes. There was hunger within them that Y/N had never seen before. “Because the first time I fuck you, it wont be on a dusty bed in a mouldy cabin.”

Y/N couldn’t help the whimper that slipped past her lips. Eris smirked and pressed his lips against hers once more and Y/N fully melted into him, completely lost within him. And Y/N didn’t care if she ever found her way back. 

The need for Eris to touch her was strong but what was stronger was his promise. He wouldn’t until they were in a bedroom somewhere to fit his high standards. Which meant nothing short of a palace with large balcony doors overlooking the landscape. Y/N could only imagine it. Her and Eris lazily waking in the bed before she opened her legs and his mouth would attach to her, eliciting all sorts of sweet noises from her. Of course Y/N would shortly return the favour and then–

“Y/N,” Eris’s voice interrupted her and she hadn't even noticed that Eris had stopped kissing her. 

“Huh?” 

The smile on Eris’s face was one she wished to see every single morning and every single night and every hour between. “I asked where you went.”

“I was just wondering how you would fuck me in a large palace with balcony doors that overlook a large waterfall,” Y/N responded, wrapping her arms around Eris’s neck. 

“Is that what you want?” Eris asked.

“It wouldn't be the worst view in the world,” said Y/N.

“Consider it done,” Eris said, pressing a tender kiss to her lips before changing position so his back now laid back down on the bed, Y/N’s head buried in the crook of his neck. 

Y/N hummed in delight as she breathed in his scent. “You have no idea how long I have wanted you.”

“How long?” Eris asked, his fingers tangling within the ends of her hair. 

“Nearly fifty years,” Y/N admitted. 

“I have you beaten,” Eris responded. “I’ve wanted you for seventy years. The moment I met you, I knew I wanted you– needed you.”

Y/N smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “Now you have me.”

“And I will worship you the way you deserve,” Eris responded, pulling Y/N tiger in his arms, his hand resting on the back of her head. “For the rest of my life.”

“And I will worship you, Eris Vanserra,” Y/N responded. “The way you deserve and the way you have deserved for so many years.”

A soft smile spread across Eris’s features. He pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, allowing his lips to linger there. “We should sleep. Because the sooner we arrive at the next city, the sooner I can ravish you the way I want to now.”

Despite her warmth, Y/N shivered. “Let’s not speak about that now, because if we do any longer then I will climb on top of you right now and have my way with you.”

Eris only chuckled in response and lightly scratched Y/N’s scalp causing her to sigh in delight. “I do love you, Y/N. I always have.” There was a hint of vulnerability to his tone that Y/N had never heard before. “I wish I would have told you sooner but I didn’t want to put you in any danger. What my father would do to you if he found out I loved you? That would break me.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, gently caressing his cheek. “That bastard is dead. You don’t need to worry about what he would have done to me, because nothing did happen. Now you can show me all the love you want and I can show you too. Because we have fifty years of time to catch up on.”

Eris smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, caressing her face. Y/N smiled at him before resting her head on his chest as he held her close to him. Y/N drifted to sleep whilst listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. A heart she knew beat for her, just as hers beat for him.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 32

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Well, this escalated in a way I didn't plan.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is a low drone. You can hear his curt tone as he comes through the front door. His slither is met by a booming timbre that makes you jump. Thor speaks loudly, enough for some of his words to thunder through the walls that divide you.

Your ears pulse as you try not to listen. You know you shouldn’t. By Laufeyson’s reaction alone, you know his brother is less than welcome. Thor’s presence brings you little peace yourself as the memory of his creeping touch crawls up your spine.

You sit behind the laptop and try to focus on the screen. If you can distract yourself, it will be over soon enough and Thor will be gone. Maybe then, you can figure out why Mr. Laufeyson has turned to ice.

“...is she?” The two words echo and jar you from your failing battle.

Laufeyson’s response is short and sharp. You fill in the blanks of his deflection; ‘none of your concern’.

“...busy cleaning up your messes, eh?” Thor’s taunting question rolls upwards as footsteps hammer up the stairs, stopped halfway as another pair shuffle after them.

“I did not welcome you in,” Laufeyson is clearer now. You assume they are on the staircase with how their voices waft airily.

“Always the gracious host,” Thor counters.

“Do not lecture me on grace. Say what you’ve come to say and go. I’m busy–”

“Oh, yes, if I had a little maid like that, I’d always be busy as well–”

“Get on with it,” Laufeyson snarls.

Thor laughs heartily, “brother, one day you will see we are more alike than you care to accept. Maybe then you would see that it is the crux of our problems. You might even appreciate our shared tastes–”

“If you’ve only come to ramble, I’m not interested. I’ve spent enough time entertaining you lot–”

“You speak as if we are enemies,” Thor accuses, “you cannot waste time on family.”

“Ah, because kinship has always been sacred in your heart,” Laufeyson scoffs, “you are like a storm, you bluster but only make a mess. Say what you came to say and leave me be. I’ve work to do. Real work.”

“Well, if I am to deliver my message, I think both recipients should receive it, don’t you?”

“Say it,” Laufeyson hisses.

“But it is meant for both of you. The little maid as well–”

You sit up straight and tweak your head. You shouldn’t listen but you’re caught now. You cannot keep from overhearing.

“House manager,” Laufeyson girds, “I’m certain I can efficiently communicate whatever nonsense has drawn you here.”

“And they say I am stubborn,” Thor snorts, “Walpurgisnacht.”

“Walpurgisnacht?” Laufeyson echoes the single word.

“Surely you recall the old ways.”

“Don’t,” Laufeyson warns.

“Mother is having a celebration. Like when we were young. Father’s agreed to it.”

“She didn’t mention.”

“Ah, yes, well, you’ve much going on. She sent me to inquire after the little maid– house manager. She would require help with arranging the festivities.” Thor explains, “oh, and you’re invited too, I suppose.”

“She has her staff, does she not?”

“Frida is too old. She only serves tea and Gertrude’s never been very strong-minded. Mother needs input, not an empty vessel.”

“Charming,” Laufeyson remarks, "well, I will consider it. Next time, tell mother to call.”

“There will be many old faces. Many may even be happy to see you,” Thor goads.

“I wouldn’t expect so,” Laufeyson retorts, “must I ask you to leave anon?”

Another rolling guffaw fills the house. You hear a grunt from Laufeyson and a muted thump. Thor quiets with a sigh, “ah, fine, fine, I shall leave you to your little– house manager. You will tell her I say hello.”

Silence roils through the air. A scuff cuts through the tension and footfalls clamour down the stairs. The front door opens and closes, leaving you to wallow in the dark cloud left behind. Mr. Laufeyson’s long exhale blows up the staircase ahead of him and you listen to his approach.

You look at the door, expecting him to come through any moment. But it isn’t that one he opens. It’s the study door that slams with a terrible force. His growl permeates through and the adjoined door clicks as the lock is flicked into place. You stare at it and frown.

You don’t suppose his mood will thaw any time soon.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson does not emerge for supper. You barely eat anything yourself as anxiety tortures your stomach. You clean up after yourself and retreat upstairs. 

You near the study, lingering before the door as you pluck up your courage. You tap softly on the wood. There’s no answer. You didn’t hear him go but maybe you missed it.

“I made dinner, Mr. Laufeyson. I’ve left you a plate in the oven,” you speak through the wood, to the ghost on the other side.

You traipse away in defeat. You’re entirely confused. What did you do so wrong? Even before his brother’s unprompted visit, Mr. Laufeyson was coolly apathetic. Yet that morning, in the shower, he’d been on fire, consuming you like flames.

Maybe you’re not good enough. Maybe you didn’t kiss him just right or make the noises he liked. Oh, but how are you supposed to know what to do?

You sit at the writing desk and tap your fingers on your chin. You squirm in your chair as the scene in the shower replays in your head. You tear it apart, trying to pick out the exact moment of your offense.

You shift on the seat and the throbbing pressure in your core ripples through you. Just the thought of his touch has you alight. You touch your hot cheeks and flutter your lashes. You shouldn’t be worried about all that, you should be working on that spread sheet.

You glance over at the study door. The house is stagnant once more. Just like those early days when you made your slow progress with a broom and mop. Something’s gone terribly wrong. Maybe… you should just leave.

You put your fingers mindlessly to the touch pad of the computer. You swirl around the cursor mindlessly. You blow out through your lips and sit up, another fraught peek towards the door.

You bring both your hands over the keyboard. No, you shouldn’t. 

You need to figure this out. You need to know what you did, or didn’t do. You can be what he wants you to be, you have to. You have nothing else.

You type, then backspace, then type again. After several times, you hit search. You click through to a site with a black background and gasp at the obscene ads that fill the margins. 

You bite down as you try to focus past the small thumbnails. You key into the search bar ‘shower’. You hover your finger over the enter key before you will yourself to hit it.

The search results are just as chaotic. You don’t know what you’re looking for. ‘Best Shower Scenes STEAMY’. Your insides tickle and you squeeze your thighs together. Invisible flames lick at you and cluster in your chest.

You mute the computer as the video loads. The house is so quiet that you’re aware of every creak and crack. You fidget as you sit through the ad of a woman giggling over a URL for meet-ups. You press your hands to your thigh, sitting forward so your weight rests on your pelvis, dampening the tingly heat.

The video begins. A woman with caramel coloured hair and a curvy body. You admire her figure and peer down at your own. Maybe that’s it, maybe you’re not hot enough? You remember how Mr. Laufeyson touched you all over, almost as if he was examining you. Did you disappoint?

You flick your eyes back up as a man enters and they step into the shower booth. You chew your lip as you fixate on his large dick. He’s very big but you think Mr. Laufeyson is too. You’re not sure. This isn’t helping, you still don’t understand anything.

They kiss and fondle each other. You lean forward, watching with a stitch between your brows. The woman drags her hands down the man’s body and gets to your knees. She pumps him with her hand and licks his tip, dragging her tongue down his length. He grabs her head and forces himself into her mouth.

She takes him greedily. Oh. That could be it. Last night, you were so afraid, and you got all teary, and you didn’t know what you were doing. 

You watch her as she touches his sack, squeezing then works her hand in tandem with her mouth on his dick. You put your hand to the side of your neck and hold your breath. You wiggle on the chair, the friction making your own arousal more obvious.

Finally, the woman stands, the man lifting her by her hair. He spins her and bends her forward. She braces the wall and as he slaps her ass several times before gripping her hip. He’s so rough. You don’t know if you could handle that.

He slides into her and your mouth falls open. Her thighs quake and your own give a tremble. Your walls clench as the pressure knots in you. The thought of doing that with Mr. Laufeyson both frightens you and excites you.

You twiddle your fingers and blink at the screen. The furrow in your forehead deepens as you lean forward. You put your fingers along the touchpad but don’t press them down.

“Ahem,” Mr. Laufeyson startles you as he clears his throat.

You sit up and quickly hit the X in the corner. Your throat closes as you struggle to breathe, caught but not entirely. He stands in the doorway between the study and library. From that angle, he can’t see what’s on your screen.

“You are working hard,” he muses as he strides in with crossed arms.

“Yes, sir,” you answer breathily. You stare him in the face, too afraid to look anywhere else as your mind dares to imagine the shower again, both of you naked, this time, you’re bent over and he’s behind you. “Um, did you get your dinner?”

You close the laptop as you stand. You wince as the fabric of your panties clings to your wet cunt. You feel like he can see right through you.

“I’m not hungry,” he stops on the other side of the desk.

“Okay,” you swallow and your eyes flit side to side.

“I never told you to come out,” he drops his arms, placing his hand on the desk as he leans over it.

“Pardon?” You blink furiously.

“I said to remain in here until I told you it was safe. If you made my dinner, then you did not obey me.”

“I… Mr. Laufeyson, your brother’s gone–”

“And how could you know for sure if I did not confirm it?” He challenges with a wry tilt in his head. “I’ve been patient, pet, but I think you may require a different sort of discipline.”

“Mr. Laufeyson?” You babble, “I’m sorry–”

“Your apologies grow tiresome,” he huffs and stands straight. “Come here,” he points between him and the desk.

You put your head down and swiftly walk around the desk. He swirls his finger in the air and you turn your back to him. He backs away and rounds to the side of the desk.

“Hands down,” he nods to the desktop.

You press your palms flat, bent slightly at the waist. He considers you and strokes his chin with a hum. He circles the desk and you in a single, patient lap.

“Stay as you are.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you utter.

“Ah, no talking,” he warns, “remember your rules, pet.”

You gulp as he turns and struts away. Is it okay again? You can’t tell. He’s still rigid and painfully formal. He hasn’t touched you, he seems to be avoiding getting close. You stare at the wood beneath your hands and shiver.

You hear him in his study. You glance over as he appears in the door frame, his hands hidden behind him. He tuts. “Head forward.”

You look ahead and focus on the wall. He nears, his shadow skewed in the lamplight. He stands behind you, a foot away and he hums. He clucks and strolls around the desk to face you.

He pulls his hands from behind his back, revealing a thick leather strap. The brown leather is faded and cracked. Your eyes round as you stare at it and he brings it taught between his hands.

“Flogging is historically a long held practice. For the monk in his self-flagellation, for the heathen in his cell, and… for the woman in her disobedience,” he explains as his lips curl. “Spare the rod, spoil the child…” He takes a breath, “and you, pet, are growing spoiled.”

Your lips part but you don’t speak. You must follow the rules. This is the test. If you fail this, then it’s over. If you fail, you have nothing.

He walks along the desk and rounds the corner, brushing by as he purrs, “remember your rules. Not a sound.”

He comes up behind you and you hold your breath. He tugs at the back of your skirt and shudders. He pulls the fabric above your ass, his hand trailing along the back of your panties. He hooks his finger in the elastic and tears them down to your thighs. You quiver and clench your jaw tight, fighting back a squeak.

He stretches the leather across your ass. It’s cool and smooth. You twitch as bumps rise across your skin. He pulls back and you lower your head. You wait. Nothing. 

You cautiously raise your chin and look back. He snaps the whip across your ass as you do and you spasm with the hot flash of pain. He points to the wall in a wordless demand. Eye forward. You turn your attention back to the grey blue paint as your eyes glisten. He strikes you again, the agony scalding across the swell of your ass.

Your thighs shake as he pulls back again. You await a third but it never comes. You don’t dare move. He paces behind you. You watch his shadow cast before you and he moves abruptly forward. You bite your tongue as he lashes you again. Harder as he lets out a thick grunt.

Your hands slip and you fall forward. You plant your palms more firmly as you push yourself straight. A fourth comes and sends tendrils down to your toes. You hiss through your teeth, quaking, fighting not to collapse.

You deserve this. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve earned this. 

A fifth and your knees knock together. You barely keep afoot as the sixth lands with extra bite. Seven, eight, nine… He lashes you in quick succession, as if he cannot stop himself. The tenth has you heaving, about to vomit with the pain.

He stops himself, his shadow holding up the stap. He lowers it and steps back. He sighs and turns away.

“Tomorrow you will pack for our departure,” he declares, “we leave on Friday.”

We? So you are to go with him. You don’t dare ask or say a single word. You stay as you are, shaking as you roll your eyes back against the flood.

“You will be on your best behaviour,” he warns as he nears the study door, “I trust this lesson will not be forgotten.”

He passes into the study and the door closes harshly. Your legs fold and collapse beneath you. You land in a heap, holding yourself off your ass as you whimper. You won’t ever forget.

[littleboyblue1]

The Nod

a/n: apologies for the length, I got a little carried away with the backstory and the good part. I've had this idea that Steven wouldn't be so shy in bed, so I decided to play that out

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), pet names, dom!steven, I can't think of anything else

Steven struggled to like you. Not because of your personality or looks or anything like that, but for one particular thing: the Nod. He couldn't stand it. After watching Marc or Jake brutally kill someone, you'd nod at them. He never could figure out why.

Marc and Jake claimed it was about sex. If she nodded, they'd have sex. That made Steven dislike you more. What's so sexy about murder?

Then they began nodding at you. When you moved in, you seemed to be lost. Almost like you didn't understand a normal life. You talked to a neighbor once, and Jake nodded with a soft smile; no sex that night. You came back from hanging out with some friends, and Marc nodded before you showered; no sex that night. The list goes on. Sometimes sex followed, but not often enough for the nod to be a sex thing. So what was it?

Steven learned soon enough. A horrible fight, and no one fronted to do it for him. He does fight, he just prefers not to. In the end, blood ran down his hands, and he could feel the warmth of it on his face. He was disgusted, then he looked at you and realized he'd just never been on the receiving end of it.

The nod is about approval. A slow nod with a twinkle in your eyes. It meant that what he did was okay. That he's okay. Their nods to you were to help you get accustomed to a regular life you'd once left behind. A healing nod, of sorts.

He also understood why nods sometimes ended in sex. Gaining your approval was... hot. It made his stomach so fluttery he thought he'd puke.

As soon as you were home and showered, he wanted you carnally. You'd taken a pillow and blanket, ready to go to the living room - you felt bad making him sleep with you, even if he said you could sleep with him. He disliked you, but respected his alters enough to treat you well.

Steven caught your wrist before you got too far. "Don't go," he said.

"Are you sure?" A hint of hope was in your eyes. Maybe Jake had finally convinced Steven to like you.

He nodded. "Please." You put your things back and laid down on your side. he laid beside you, and despite how badly he wanted you, he decided it was poor timing. So for the night, falling asleep to your even breaths was enough for him.

A few days later, Jake greeted you when you got off work. You were delighted when he came to walk you home - they're usually to tired to leave the house for more than work.

He kissed you softly, then took your hand. "Mi vida, how was your day?" he asked.

You smiled up at him. "Better now! How was yours?"

You made small talk for a few blocks, then it got serious. "Steven asked if we were okay with him," he chuckled, "'putting the moves on you'." You laughed a little too.

"He did ask me to sleep with him the other night," you recalled with a smile.

Jake looked shocked. "You guys had sex?"

You laughed again. "No. We slept in the same bed. He asked me to stay." You shrugged. It had been odd, but then Steven had had a rough night. His fights rarely got so violent.

"Ah, we knew it would work." You shot a look at Jake. "Marc and I thought if he fought with you, he might see you differently. We weren't sure what else to do." That explained why neither of them had fronted for Steven.

"Do about what?" you asked, a little confused.

"It's unfair you only get a boyfriend 2/3 of the time because Steven has annoying moral codes. We just thought we'd try our final card." You laughed again. 'Annoying moral codes' is something rarely applied to Moonknight.

"It worked then?" You asked.

"Yes. He wants to go on a date with you to apologize for being an ass."

"Those his words, or yours?" Jake laughed sarcastically at your words. "But I'd enjoy that."

"Good. We've just arrived to it." You rounded the corner to a nice little diner. When you turned on Jake, Steven had fronted.

...

The date went better than Steven anticipated. You accepted his apology, and you practically hung off his arm the whole way home. He spent the walk home wondering how he never knew about your interests.

At the front door, you nudged him playfully. "I can't believe I let you take me to your place on the first date," you teased. He seemed confused as he let you in.

"You live here?"

"I do." You wondered how to express to him what you meant. "Think I'll let you take me to bed?" You winked for emphasis.

"If you want to sleep." He shrugged. Marc was not kidding about him being a little dense.

As if one of them knew your predicament, Steven looked at a mirror, then turned beet red. "Are you sure?" After a few moments, he turned to you. "Did you mean sex?" You laughed.

"This is different foreplay than I'm used to, Steven," you teased, in hopes it would answer his question. He frowned. "No. I like it. You're being you. And I like you, Steven." Using his name a lot seemed to make him flustered. He muttered something, then came close to you.

Surprisingly, he didn't hesitate. His lips were a little chapped - Jake is anti chapstick, and they never recover from it - but the kiss was nice. You quickly made it to the bed, stripping both your clothes on the way.

Sitting on the bed, he loomed over you. He took ragged breaths, causing all his chest muscles to flex. You'd seen this body a hundred times, but it was so different on Steven. You expected Marc and Jake to be muscular, but you wouldn't expect it on Steven unless you knew the body beforehand.

Entirely out of character, Steven reached down and stroked himself. "You just gonna sit there? Or are you gonna get on your knees and suck it?" If it weren't for the accent, you'd have thought Jake fronted. You got on your knees quickly, holding your mouth open for him.

"Good girl." His words and demeanor change had you clenching around nothing. He lifted your chin, then promptly spit into your mouth. Who was this Steven?

Before you could think further, let along swallow, he grabbed a fistfull of hair and began thrusting into your throat, harder than even Marc dared to.

With each gag he pulled from you, you pulled a moan from him. Finally, when tears had mixed with the drool running down your chin, and you were sure you might choke to death, he pulled out.

"Get up, baby," he ordered. He still sounded intense, but a little softer. You stood, then he pushed you to lie down as he settled between your thighs. For a moment, you thought to tell him you hand't showered, but then his tongue ran up your folds, and a moan escaped him that said he didn't care. You moaned right along with him.

Through the pleasure - moaning, throwing your head back, and pushing his head down further - you could just barely make out what he was doing. Was he spelling his name with his tongue?

He added two fingers into the mix, brining you ever closer to your release. The strange movements of his fingers felt good in ways you didn't even know possible - you'd later learn those strange movements was his name in morse code, though he never explained why he knew or did it). You moaned and pushed his head down further until your legs shook, and he sat up. His face was wet, and he had a purely primal look in his eyes.

As he positioned his hips between your legs, he pushed his fingers into your mouth, silently forcing you to suck them. "You look so pretty, baby," he whispered as his trailed kissed from your pussy to your jaw. He didn't remove his fingers when he kissed your lips. He moaned into your open mouth as he started pushing into you.

After a second, he pushed in fast, bottoming out. You moaned together, and he dropped his head down to your neck to bite and suck. As quickly as he entered you, he pulled out and thrust again, setting a near brutal pace. He kept his fingers in your mouth, pulling your jaw open as you tossed your head back in pleasure. The result was strangled-sounding moans, making him grunt and moan just as loud as you.

As your legs lifted to wrap around his wait, his other hand settled on your breast, moving up and down with your bouncing. You could feel your second orgasm coming strong, only washing over you when his teeth sank into your collar bone. You grabbed his arm for support, scratching all down his bicep and forearm. He hissed, then moaned as his thrusts became quicker.

"I-" He moaned near pornographically. "I'm cuming, baby." He removed his fingers from your mouth, holding your hip for dear life.

"In-inside, Steven," you moaned out. Overstimulation was beginning to overcome you, but you took it in stride.

He didn't need convincing on your statement. He groaned with his release, slowing down his thrusts until he stopped. He was panting, and the sheen of sweat coating him made him twice as beautiful as before.

He laid down lazily beside you, slipping out so he could hold you more comfortably. "I'll get a cloth, just need a moment," he mumbled.

You smiled up at him from his chest. "Where on Earth did that come from!?"

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 16 - conclusion

previous || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist || next

Summary: We are Moon Knight

Pairings: Moon Knight system x you (gn!reader)

Word Count: 2.4k

Content: mostly fluff, mentions of food, not beta'd

PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...

"You have to settle it. You have to decide if you are Moon Knight."

"I am," he answered resolutely. "I am Moon Knight."

Marc Spector stood gallantly on the rooftop of your building, peering out over the darkened city. Clenching his fists in determination, he drew a calming breath as the ceremonial armor of Khonshu wrapped itself around each muscle.

Fierce brown eyes chilled to a somber, glowing white as a thick, white hood enveloped his dark curls. A heavy, ashen cape unfurled behind him, swept aside by an ominous gust of wind.

"Marc Spector," the menacing voice of Khonshu boomed, the sound chilling his avatar to the core. "Jake Lockley assured me you would not interfere in our affairs again."

"Jake is me, in a way," Marc returned confidently. "He's a part of me. So your business with him is your business with me. It's my body too."

An ancient metal clang rang out in the night as Khonshu thumped his staff against the rooftop. “Jake Lockley asked for your protection, so long as you stay out of our affairs."

"Cut the shit," Marc bit out, turning to face the ancient one. "You need an avatar. That's me." Folding white, bandaged arms over his chest, he returned his gaze to the city below. "I'm the reason you're free. And you promised to set us free."

"You and Steven Grant," Khonshu corrected, moving around with a dramatic whirl, to block Marc’s view. "I did not promise the freedom of Jake Lockley."

"We come as a package deal, like Steven said," Marc huffed, glancing back up at the annoying deity.

"Jake Lockley is my perfect avatar. Nothing will change that," Khonshu argued, leaning in menacingly. 

"Then why didn't you protect us?" Marc hissed, not caring to debate the logistics of being a system with a literally boneheaded god. "Why did you take your armor away that night?"

An eerie chill swept across the rooftop.

"You wanted to be free, Marc Spector, so I set you free."

"You left me to die in an alley, outnumbered three to one with no armor...while I was trying to save a woman from God knows what!"

A condescending chuckle echoed. "Save? If you were my avatar, you would know how to protect the travelers of the night, and when to be my Fist of Vengeance."

"I was trying to!"

From your vantage point, hidden across the rooftop, you listened intently, proud of the stand Marc was taking. Khonshu probably knew you were there, but it didn’t matter. All four of you had decided to face the old bird.

You couldn't see him, but you tried to follow what was happening from your husband's side of the conversation.

“The woman you tried to save was meant to die that night. I was ready to give Jake my orders, but you interfered." The god’s voice explained.

Marc scoffed, starting to pace across the rooftop agitatedly. “You wanted me to kill a woman who was being attacked? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Okay, you might be proud of Marc, but you were still concerned. You couldn't take him getting hurt again. But that's why Steven and Jake were with him. It was pretty rare for the three them to be co-conscious but this was essential to you all getting on with your lives. 

"That woman was the vilest of humanity," Khonshu explained, disappearing momentarily, only to reappear directly in Marc’s pacing path. 

Marc listened to how the woman he was trying to save that night was actually the person who deserved "real justice". Apparently, she was the actual worst. Trafficking. Ew.

"Uhh, that information would have been a bit more helpful from the start," Steven piped, wagging his gloved finger condescendingly.

You gasped in amazement as Marc's white bandage-looking garb dissolved into a crisp white, three-piece suit. Damn, you loved those tight pants.

"I wasn't talking to you, worm," Khonshu grumbled, gesturing dramatically with his staff.

"Well this worm's not about to let you off the hook so easily, silly old bird," Steven countered, shrugging both shoulders with his hands up. "Can't expect Marc to go around delivering justice if you don't give him the right information, can you?"

"Marc Spector doesn't listen to me, so he can no longer serve me as my avatar."

"No one is serving you, pendejo," Jake interjected, hands landing on his hips. The three-piece suit transformed once again, back to the ceremonial armor of Khonshu, but this version had Jake's delicious thighs, torso, arms and face wrapped in jet black. You had never witnessed this suit in person. It was kind of hard to concentrate on the extremely critical conversation with all this skin tight armor.

"We help you; you help us," Jake went on. "No more games. No more orders."

The black portions of the Moon Knight suit brightened to an ancient white once more.

"That's the deal," Marc finished. "Take us or leave us." Searching for you on the rooftop, he extended his hand, inviting you to stand before Khonshu. You scurried to your husband’s side, gripping his white bandaged hand. You still couldn't see who he was addressing, but you were there to support him no matter what.

"All four of us," he added. "We're Moon Knight."

Khonshu spared you one glance...Marc told you later. He didn't really have eyes - just bony socket holes. Then he turned his beak away and thumped his staff again. "Very well. Be my Fist of Vengeance and you will all have my protection."

Steven and his white suit appeared one final time. "Time to update the Fist of Vengeance though, innit? How about hand of justice?"

Khonshu made an annoyed grunting sound and disappeared.

"Do you remember the first night you met me?" Jake murmured against the shell of your ear, tangling his thick fingers with yours as you lay side by side.

You shivered as his soft lips tickled the sensitive spot right behind your ear. "Mm-hmm. You let me hold your hand just like this."

He squeezed your fingers affectionately, planting sweet kisses down the side of your neck. Warm puffs of breath made you tingle with love and desire. "Do you know how it felt to lay beside you all those nights and never be able to touch you?"

"I think you've more than made up for it," you giggled as he found the ticklish spot just above your collarbone.

"Uh-uh, not yet," he playfully refuted, between kisses. "Never enough."

Releasing your hand, he climbed on top of you - always moving like a panther, this one - since that first night. You could tell right away that he didn't move like Marc or Steven.

"Never thought I could have this with you, mi corazón," he breathed, tracing the shape of your jawline with his fingertips. His head cocked to the side as he studied you, unable to believe you were his.

"You do have this with me, Jake," you assured him, wrapping your arms around his back to pull him even closer. "I think I loved you from the second we met."

"Then marry me," he blurted, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip tauntingly. "I know we are...technically married, but I-I want to..."

"You want to be there?" You softly asked, running your hands over his muscular back, scratching softly.

He nodded, smiling sweetly down at you. "I want to be able to say the things Marc and Steven said to you. But I want it to be from me."

Staring into your eyes, he whispered your name. Leaning closer, he nuzzled your cheek with his nose before sealing his mouth over yours.

A while later, you and Jake cooked dinner together, with him humming and singing little phrases in Spanish. Afterward, you cuddled up on the couch to unwind.

Jake shuffled around in the "couch basket" - a collection of various bits of entertainment to enjoy while relaxing. Jake had his crossword puzzle book, you and Steven shared a couple of word search books. There were a few of fidget toys for Marc, who definitely did not find any relaxation in putting pencil to paper. But since he was a man wound rather tight, he liked to have something in his hands.

There was also a sudoku book that no one ever touched.

The four of you shared a nighttime journal and a set of brush pens, where you would jot thoughts from your day, doodle and leave notes for one another. Now this, Marc would participate in, because brush pens seemed like markers and drawing with markers was fun, unlike boring crosswords and word searches.

Marc liked to draw little cartoons - he was pretty bad at it, which made it so, so cute. There was always a deeper meaning to his drawings too. He could be quite passive aggressive with them when he wanted to be.

A stick figure with dark curly hair and a cap, holding a sandwich, under a red "NO" sign meant Jake should stop eating Marc's food out of the fridge. Obviously. Sometimes he drew fish for Steven or hearts for you. It's not that he was terribly creative, it was just adorable.

Jake handed you both the journal and the word search book. You smiled at him, motioning for the brush pens. You quickly flipped to a blank page and pulled out a marker. In all capital letters, you wrote, “YES” and passed the book back to him.

He smirked cutely at the journal but raised a dark eyebrow questioningly. 

“Yes, I’ll marry you, Jake,” you clarified, reaching for his hand. “You asked me before, but I didn’t get a chance to answer.” The two of you had been busy for a while after he kissed you. “But my answer is yes.”

Fall turned to winter and Steven aced yet another round of finals for his university classes. You passed your nurse’s exam and moved on to the next level of nursing, which came with a raise.

It was the third night of Hanukkah - not the biggest of Jewish holidays, but still one your husband had started to celebrate with a bit more gusto now that the pain of the past was a little more of a dull ache, rather than a raw, sharp thorn.

To that end, you had gathered the correct ingredients for latkes, which Marc was going to attempt to make with you tonight.

You turned the key in the deadbolt to the door of your flat and entered a darkened environment. 

Shit. Every time you got home to a dimly lit flat, there was sure to be alcohol involved. Okay, maybe not every time, but - 

“Hey!” Marc greeted, in a way that contradicted his typically grumpy eagle exterior. He appeared out of nowhere and you jumped a little.

“Sorry…sorrry,” he grasped your arms, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I have a surprise.”

“Oh?” You chuckled. “Was the surprise like a haunted house surprise? Because you got me.”

“No, no, I was working in the bedroom and it got dark in the flat and then…just come on.” He grabbed your hand and dragged you down the hallway- a move much more typical of Steven. 

You followed without question, melting a little at his enthusiasm. It was a rare treat to see him this way. 

“Okay, I’m just gonna…” He eased behind you, cutely reaching up to cover your eyes with his hands. “It’s not a big surprise,” he warned, “just something I finished.”

Finally, you made it into the bedroom and he removed his hands.

Before you sat the broken table. The one Marc had been promising to fix for…well over a year now. It was one of the many broken things he collected, but this one, he actually completed.

“I thought you could use it for a night table, or…well, wherever,” he quietly gushed, his dark eyes sparkling proudly. “Do you like it?”

“Marc, I love it,” you assured him, running your fingers along the freshly polished surface. “When did you have time to work on it?”

He laughed, “I’m unemployed - I have plenty of time,” he teased. 

“Well, I love it.”

He explained that he’d been plugging away at it on Steven’s days off, while you were at work. He stained the wood up on the rooftop, so the smell wouldn’t overpower the flat. 

“You should do this with other found pieces,” you encouraged. “This is really beautiful work, and people love this repurposed stuff.”

Marc swallowed, his eyes dancing from your gaze to the table and back. “You think so?”

“I do,” you nodded eagerly. “It could be a hobby for you or…maybe even something more. And besides,” you went on, reaching for his hand, “I just got a raise, so maybe we could get a bigger place - give you some space to work.”

A space just for him? He loved the sound of that. And there might be another reason he wanted a bigger place…

Later that night, after some yummy latkes and a huge kitchen mess, you were flipping through the shared nighttime journal while Marc tinkered with another chair he’d found on the street.

You saw where Steven had jotted some notes for his finals - just a bit of a brain dump, really. Jake had left you a note in Spanish, which made your heart do flip-flops. (He wrote you a lot of notes after finally reading all the ones you had written him months ago).

And Marc had drawn another terribly adorable picture.

In it, he drew all of you, in stick figure form.

Jake had his hat. 

Steven had his glasses.

Marc was just Marc.

You were just you.

And there was a teeny, tiny stick figure in your arms.

Above you was a big question mark. 

Before you could react to what you were seeing, you felt Marc’s eyes fixed on you from where he was working on the old chair. 

“I was thinking…maybe we could talk about adopting,” he softly supplied, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he slowly made his way over to you. “You-you don’t have to give me some sort of answer right now, but…I thought maybe…um - well, I’m sure a lot of kids need homes, and I would hate for a child of mine to have…”

“Yes,” you instantly answered. “Yes, I want kids with you. Any way you want them, we can talk about it.” You reached out to caress his cheek as he scooted over close to you on the couch. “We can figure out how, but yes. Definitely yes.”

“Really?” He breathed, sighing in relief. “Oh god. I was really hoping you wouldn’t mistake that baby for a dog.”

You burst out laughing, throwing your arms around your husband - the love of your life - your superhero.

END

Read the standalone sequel Still With You

Thank you all for making my first Moon Knight story and my first tumblr-posted story such a sweet and wonderful experience! Hugs and high fives all around! Stay tuned for my next MK fic, dropping Sept. 1st!

*bear in mind, this was a gn!reader, so Marc presents adoption as one of several family-starting options

@apollo-enthusiast

@i-still-dont-like-your-face @wordacadabra @lilacspider @imonmykneessir @saints-and-sinners

@steven-grants-world @thewinterv @aquaarietes @suddenlysteven @ohantonia

@deputy-videogamer @toecurlingstories @zephyrixx @juleshadalittlelamb @tsukkie-daisuke

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@deezisnotreal @serren-diamandis @alexxavicry

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@stevenknightmarc @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @ssp3ctor

@rivalriotrenegade @this--is--music @avengersinitiative2012 @lockleywife @poppyflower-22

[chamiryokuroi]

My thoughts on Tim Drake: Robin #10 heavy spoilers under the cut

First of all got to say it wasn’t a bad ending if we consider they had to wrap up this arc in such a short amount of time, gotta give it to Meghan she managed to figure out a way to answer as many questions as possible and give us a relatively good ending for a series that I feel was canceled with no reason.

You can definitely feel that the story was planned to be done in more issues, the building blocks are all there for an amazing arc and it is sad we had to condense it all in one issue.

Now into a more in depth analysis of the comic of my favorite parts.

The Labyrinth was such and interesting point I wish we could have seen more of, specially with the fact this is the cult if Dionysus.

I absolutely adore the fact that Bernard is fully aware of Tim’s identiry because we get such funny interactions like this where Pie honestly thinks Tim is cheating on Bernard with Robin, and that panel of Bernard laughing because of that is one of my favorites for sure, boy is having so much fun, as he should.

Now in a more serious tone, this two panels tells us so much of how Tim feels, how insecure he is of his own place, not only on his family, but in the world as a whole. That second panel specifically where we see Bernard having fun while Tim is just on the bg, knowing how hard it must be for Tim to wrap his head around his sexuality even now, a year after coming out and starting dating Bernard, this feels realistic, sometimes when you come out later in life it feels as if you do not fit exactly with the community, and it can be hard to find your place.

If I had a nickel for every time a creepy cult tried to recruit Tim into their ranks I would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it is weird that it keeps happening.

This is honestly another point that feels like it was meant to be explored for longer before the cancelation notice came. At least it gives us an explanation of why Kate was acting the way she was, it took me a while to get it but basically after Tim saved Bernard from the cult back in Urban Legends Kate went around hunting down those that managed to escape, one of them being the son of this man that appears to be the leader of the cult, the son then took his own life and Kate was taken into the labyrinth, were we know Tim was being pumped with some hallucinogen gas of some sort, depending on how long she was on the labyrinth before managing to escape that might explain her memory loss, again this is all theorizing with what we are given since there wasn’t much space for it to be explain as it should.

And now we go back to Bernard who is looking around for Tim, going to all the people that knew him as Robin, and then those words “Tim takes care of everyone… but sometimes he needs someone to take care of him” hits me straight on the feels, Bernard is such a supportive boyfriend, he is definitely what Tim needs, someone that is there for him, not only for Tim, but also Robin.

Also the fact that Bernard is making his own homemade bat-signal with his hands is just adorable to me. Boy could had probably drove to Bruce’s house, but he doesn’t need Bruce’s help right now, he needs Batman.

And of course Batman responds. Bruce why were you following Bernard? Anyways, yet another great speech from Bernard “I thought you might be a ghost. Or you weren’t real. But the truth is you look sort of normal. Like regular-people normal.” Leave it to Bernard to understand exactly what Batman is, just a normal man trying to help as best as he can.

And then he says Tim needs help, not Robin, Tim. This is just Bernard out right telling Bruce “I know, and I don’t care, because Tim is in problem and you got to find him”

And then we get the best thing, Bernard, and Tim’s friends and family, rushing in to save him, just as he was losing hope of managing to leave the labyrinth alive. Absolutely in love with Bernard’s long ass coat.

And then we get to my favorite page. The uncertainty if it is really him or another hallucination, the confirmation that it is him, it is Bernard, here to save Tim. The hug, the way Tim is holding Bernard’s face, the only thing that would had made this better would had been a kiss.

And then we get to the ending, not much to say here, I just love these two pages, Tim just finally realizing he doesn’t need to be anyone else, that he can be himself and that he is right where he belong, and that he can be happy with that. The best ending we could have hope for with what we were allowed to have.

There are obviously many questions left unanswered.

What was exactly the Cult of Dionysus? Where did it came from?

What’s going on with Bernard’s parents?

What’s up with Moriarty? Who was his boss? What was his deal with Robin/Tim??

I am sad TD:R ended the way it did, had it been given the time to develop I feel it would had gotten better. But I am glad we managed to get as much as we did, now we just have to wait and see what will DC do now with Tim, and if Bernard will stay relevant or will they brush him under the rug.

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Fandom Jail Explained and a Way to Avoid it

Okay, since two fandoms are now in jail, because I do not want to deal with their drama. I think I should explain how it works, how you end up getting put in jail, and how you can avoid it

Fandom Jail is when a fandom causes me trouble to the point I don't want to deal with them anymore. I put them in jail, and as punishment, there will be no polls for them for a month. You can see what fandoms are currently in jail under the fandom jail section in the pinned post, along with the date their polls will return

When fandoms start causing me trouble, I do give a warning. I've had to do it with Naruto, Sailor, Moon, dungeon, Meshi, and JoJo's notice only two of them are now in jail. Two of them clean up their act. Naruto went from my problem child to one of my favorite fandoms now. But if you ignore the warning, go straight to jail because I need a break from dealing with your drama.

What classifies as giving me trouble? It's frequent rude comments and tags that I have to go in and delete or hide. This includes comments about characters' age if they are disrespectful. People argue with me about the morality of my polls in the comments due to the rules to the point where I have to block people. Anonymous asks, complaining about blog rules with varying degrees of politeness and rudeness. It's always right now the character's age issues.

Remember, I tag all the polls accordingly so you can block the tag and curate your experience if it makes you uncomfortable to vote in polls with characters aged 15 to 17. So it is on you to curate your experience instead of harassing me

Dungeon Meshi harassed me on and off over about three weeks. JoJo did everything the Dungeon Meshi fandom did in about 6 hours, but worse because I had to block two people, so things can escalate fast. That is also why they went from warning to jail in less than 30 minutes because it took less than 30 minutes for me to receive another ask and two more comments. That warning meant nothing.

Now a tip to avoid this

Take a page out of the One Piece Fandom and police your own. Because on One Piece polls, if someone makes a comment about a character being underage or something before I get a chance to deal with the issue. Someone in the One Piece fandom has already commented something along the lines of. Did you read the rules? Why didn't you block the tag like everyone else? If you don't like it, don't participate.

I don't think you guys realize how much this helps, and I'm so grateful for the people who do this because when you guys do this, the person is less likely to want to argue with me about the morality of my rule accepting minor characters in my polls because they know they are outnumbered. So that means I only have to delete three comments instead of 10 to 15? They may still end up in my ask box, but that is much easier to deal with, and I might have another entry for Fandoms vs. Illiteracy

So this is a case of helping me help you by policing your own, so I don't get so fed up with the idiots in your fandom that I don't want to deal with your fandom entirely

[asha-mage]

Assorted Thoughts From Forcing My Friends to Watch all of WoT as a birthday gift, Season 2 Edition-

When taken as a whole unit, the show actually completely conveys what's happening with Lan's bond from the jump, it's just that several characters are incorrect or working with incorrect information- as was often the case in the books. Lan thinks he's just been blocked out, but in reality Moiraine has released his bond entirely (as she floated she might do to Alanna back in season 1) and you can see the moment he realizes this in episode 2, when saddling the horses- he realizes that he didn't sense the Fade and what that means, and then Moiriane realizes he has realized.

The show in general is a lot more subtle, and a lot more willing to delve into the idea that often characters are just...wrong, or uninformed, or lying, without holding the audience's hand to explain that fact then I think people give it credit for- which is very in line with Jordan's ethos. For example, Ishamael's telling of Perrin 'the more wolf you become the more you are mine' is a blatant manipulation attempt to scare him into being afraid of his Wolfbrother powers and Perrin, who is going through hell, just buys it- and that makes sense he's already wrestling his own anger issues and fear. He doesn't question why Ishamael would tell him this, or what the effect would be (i.e not trusting the wolves, and thus maybe making himself more vulnerable to the Shadow) he just accepts it because it plays into his existing fears and biases about himself.

Anvare also raises this point really well when she gives her 'ask yourself- is it true?' speech to Moiraine. Moiraine is operating at that point under a lot of assumptions that aren't true- not just that Lanfear is going to hurt or capture Rand, but also that she really was stilled, that she can't trust Lan with her fears and doubts, that her presence is a threat to Barthanes and Anvare (when really Barthanes's presence is a threat to her)- and this moment, is meant to cast doubt not just on that, but on a lot of the assumptions the audience has likely been making too, which characters their taking at face value and which characters their thinking off through the lens of their own biases.

Continuing the trend of Moiraine displaying many of the bad coping mechanisms that will later dog Rand/Rand will internalize from her- @ofthebrownajah pointed out recently Rand's consistent issues with food and eating, which made it stick out to me how frequently in the show Moiraine has a similar problem. People repeatedly try to reach out to Moiraine via food/encouraging her to take care of herself, and she repeatedly rejects them. Lan's attempt to get her to come down for dinner, then to bring dinner to her in her rooms, Barthanes's sandwich, tea with Anvare- Moiraine has her walls raised so high she rejects this basic form of self-care and attempt to reach out hand in hand. This is especially notably because their is a repeated emphasis on food this season. Every major character gets at least one scene eating or drinking this season (Egwene and Elayne doing bootleg, Rand grabbing flatbread on his way to work, Mat with Liandrin's honey cakes, Nynaeve preparing dinner in the arches world, Lan sharing dinner with Alanna's family at her farm) but even Moiraine's eventual forced tea with Anvare goes deliberately unshown.

On rewatch I think that, while I really really love the moment where Renna and Seta are left to the mercy of their own culture by Nynaeve and Egwene in the books, the moment of Egwene killing Renna just makes the most narrative sense for the show- and I think will be a change that they are going to walk out through it's consequences.

The point of that sequence in the book is that Nynaeve understands that Egwene's bloodlust and anger are valid- but that the fact of killing will not help her in the long run. "It's okay to hate them. They deserve it. It's not okay to let them make you like them." I suspect, especially given how thoughtful the show has been about violence and death (and how clearly hollow the experience of actually killing Renna is for Egwene) that the show will take the plank of 'she deserved to die- but killing her did not undo everything you went through or heal you'. Which, again makes sense both Egwene's oncoming Aiel arc, and the fact that the books do spend a lot of time focusing on Egwene working through the trauma of her captivity.

The arches are another thing I've come around on after initial trepidation about their changes. I think each manages to still cut at the heart of Nynaeve's character arc and her struggles. The last one was my biggest concern, the shift from Nynaeve deliberately rejecting a perfect life with Lan for the sake of going back for the other Emond's Fielders to Nynaeve going back after realizing that such a life lived with Lan, as much as it might give her joy for a time, would still be hollow in the end. She can't turn her back on the struggles of the world and her friends without consequence- she can't just go back to life in the Two Rivers. She has to keep fighting for what she loves.

I think the choice itself also works when put in the context of the steady removal of Nynaeve's charges one by one. She thinks Rand is dead (and is probably blaming herself for his death as pops up in her interaction with Tam), Mat ran off, and Perrin is safe with the Shinearans. Her main charge left is Egwene- and hering that she's not helping Egwene but hurting her, overshadowing her- removes the final reason she really had for being at the White Tower, staying on the adventure. If the people she left home to save don't need her- then why is she there?

I continue to really think people are over hyping how bad the show supposedly makes Siuan look- my friends despite being largely uninitiated in the book series immediately groked that Siuan and Moiraine where just doing what they felt was right, in a complicated situation. They both are trying to save the world, and they love each other- but the world is more important.

Moiraine also brings a lot of the trouble on herself by not telling Siuan she was stilled and damaging the trust between them- leaving that detail out is the first crack in Siuan's ability to trust Moiraine still be honest with her, her partner in all this, and then her seeming to have either lied or regained that power, right at the moment she's allied with Lanfear, is the final blow any hope they where still standing together.

Despite stopping frequently to talk at even minor moments, we ran through almost the entire finale without pausing and then collectively all just sat there speechless. Man is the battle of Falme and everything around it so good.

Quote one of my friends re: Moghiden "Oh she's a little freak."

Also shout out to Lanfear for making one of my MLM friends doubt his sexuality with her 'short hair pirate t shirt look'.

That entire scene in the dream world bedroom cased a collective meltdown and one of my other friends to say 'oh I see why you where insane about this'

The effects continue to be killer throughout the season and god I can't wait to see season 3.

[pisoprano]

I tried to get a fic done today for the Kwami Swap Day of Loveybug AU Week, but I hit writer's block and the fic just isn't coming together. So instead, I'm just going to share an unpolished snippet here, plus a picture of Bugwalker's design that I drew while trying to get unblocked from writing.

Enjoy!

Snippet below the cut.

“Make sure you don’t turn into you know who,” Tikki whispered to him as he put in the earrings.

Right, he might end up turning into Mister Bug if he wasn’t careful.  He focused on the original seed of his Catwalker transformation—being everything his father wanted him to be, projecting the image of the Gabriel brand, a perfect model and obedient son.  Adrien breathed in. “Tikki, spots on!

He looked over himself—still formal in the Catwalker way, but he now wore a black and red tailcoat with tails reminiscent of ladybug wings.

He returned to the room Loveybug had told him to send Plagg to and found…

His lady.  Right there, plain as day.  He might not have seen her use his miraculous very much, but she was Lady Noire down to the last detail—the braid, the gloves, the boots, the eyes.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he said, tears starting to well in his eyes.  He’d assumed the worst, that she’d died, that she’d caught a debilitating illness, that Monarch had kidnapped her and was torturing everything she knew out of her.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she replied, eyes twinkling in that knowing way that he knew so well.

But why now?  In the middle of the fight, that had to mean... “Did something happen to Loveybug?”

Lady Noire got a weird look in her eyes, then looked down at herself.  She let out a “REOWRR!” and jumped so high she bonked her head on the ceiling.

“Are you okay?” he asked, rushing to check on her.  The suit was usually pretty good at preventing concussions, but Lady Noire had a dazed look in her eye that made him worried.

“I’m fine!” she said, pushing him away.  “Loveybug had to iron her cat!”

He was pretty sure cats didn’t need to be ironed (unless maybe they were in a cat competition or something, but even then, it seemed unlikely that Loveybug would prioritize straightening a cat’s fur over helping him fight off an akuma).  So she probably meant something else. Was Loveybug just scared of wielding the powers of destruction and had called Ladybug for help?

“You mean she wasn’t sure about using the cat miraculous and needed to iron some things out?” he guessed.

“Exactly!” she said, nodding voraciously.  “That’s what I meant!”

He smiled.  He was so good at interpreting his lady’s meaning.

“So!  Catwalker!  I mean, not Catwalker, you probably have a different name now that you’re a bug guy—”

“Tripod Gait.”

Lady Noire stared at him like he’d just grown an extra pair of legs.

“It’s how hexapods walk,” Tripod Gait explained.  Perhaps the reference to insect biology was too obscure, but he liked how ‘Tripod’ preserved the connection to his model side the same way ‘Catwalk’ had, while ‘gait’ also described ambulation like ‘walker’ had.

But no, he wasn’t the one who would be saying the name, if she didn’t like it, she shouldn’t have to use it.

“If you have a more suitable name,” he offered, “you may give me one to use instead.”

“I’m just going to call you Bugwalker,” Lady Noire said.

Bugwalker nodded.  His lady had never really been into wordplay as much as him.

“Good!  Bugwalker, let’s go deal with the akuma!”

[newtthetranswriter]

One Way to say I love You

Summary: Toge has a weird habit and won’t tell you what it means.

Word count: 797

A/N: Just a little thing I wrote to help with my writer's block. Big thanks to @just-jordie-things for letting me use her idea for this piece. I hope you enjoy and have a good day. MDNI with any of my work even if it’s sfw.

    Dating Toge has been amazing. You might think that his limited vocabulary makes it difficult to communicate but it doesn't. We've come up with our own type of communication. It's a mix of sign language and our own jesters that no one else understands. Though there is one thing he recently started doing that I can't get him to explain.

    At the most random times he sticks his tongue out at me. It's adorable but I don't understand why. He refuses to tell me as well no matter how many times I ask him about it. He'll just shrug, and walk away. If we're in class he'll tap my shoulder and when I look at him he will unzip his collar, and just stick his tongue out at me.

    The weirdest time was we had just finished a small mission we had been sent on. We were both slightly bruised because the curse was stronger than expected and we were waiting for our ride to pick us up. He nudged my shoulder and when I looked at him he was just sticking his tongue out like it was the most normal thing in the world.

    As I opened my mouth to ask again why he kept doing that, a car pulled up and the driver ushered us in. Breaking my train of thought. Toge just smiled at me, zipped his collar and climbed into the car. I sighed climbing in as well, thinking about how I can figure out the meaning behind the seemingly random jester.

    A few weeks have gone by since Toge started sticking his tongue out randomly and it's driving me crazy. I can't figure it out and now our friends have picked up on it as well. I'm now more determined than ever to figure out why he's doing it.

    With today being one of the few days we got off from training and studying I figured I could probably corner him, and make him tell me. After we had breakfast with our friends, we ended up going to his room to relax. When we got to his room he immediately took off his jacket and collar leaving him in just a T-shirt. His adorable markings on full display. Sensing my gaze he looked me dead in the eyes and stuck his tongue out for just a second before laying down on his bed.

    I rolled my eyes, before asking a question that seems almost futile at this point. "Why do you always do that?"

    Toge just smiled at me, said "bonito flakes" meaning he's not going to tell me and then made grabby hands at me. Motioning for me to lay down with him.

    So here we are about thirty minutes later. I was leaning against the head of the bed with his head in my lap. I was just running my fingers through his soft hair. He was so relaxed, slow breathing and his eyes closed so I figured he was sleeping.

    Lost in the thoughts of how much I love this little dork. I realized I wouldn't want to be in this position with anyone else. Without thinking too much about it I let the words slip out. "I love you, Toge." It was quiet so I didn't think he would hear me. But when I looked into my favorite pair of violet eyes I knew he heard me.

    I stumbled over my thoughts trying to think of a good lie to cover it up, not wanting to scare him away. But then I realized he had sat up and had once again stuck his tongue out at me. I was no longer embarrassed but completely confused as to why?

    "Toge, why are you sticking your tongue out at me, I just said I love you, and you stick your..... oh." It finally struck what he meant when he would do that. I blushed as I pieced it together. "Wait have you been saying... this whole time?" I asked, trying to confirm my suspicion.

    He nodded with a bright smile and a quiet whisper of 'yeah'. It was rare for him to stray from his rice ball ingredients but when he did it made me so happy. And in this moment it proved he was telling the truth, as he doesn't do that around anyone else. Not even Yuta one of our closest friends.

    I returned the smile before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on each cursed seal on his cheeks before giving him a peck on the lips. He smiled and returned the kiss.

    When we separated, we both moved to be laying down silently agreeing that it was time for a nap. We cuddled up to each other and quickly drifted off to a peaceful sleep. 

[perseephoneee]

christmas tree farm (elijah mikaelson x f!reader)

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 2 of ficmas!

prompt: you like drawing one of the workers at the local Christmas tree farm

a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry but also this is my dream. like, yes, let me find elijah at a Christmas tree farm. i love him your honor.

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

There’s never a great reason to go to a Christmas tree farm every day, yet you did it without reason.

Well, one reason.

The Mikaelson Tree Farm was only four blocks from your apartment, and initially you went to help your friend, Bonnie, pick out a tree. It was the day after Thanksgiving, but she was excited since it was her first time getting a tree alone. She convinced you with a promised cup of hot cocoa, and you found yourself at the expansive farm. What made it better than others was that an arborist owned it, so they understood the novelty of trees better than anyone.

You had brought your sketchbook along as well. As the quarter was close to ending, you were working hard on your animation final. Not that you were an art major by any means, but you liked to draw as a hobby, and when an opportunity arose to take an art class, you did so happily. Now, though, you had to do a short animation for your final, which meant lots and lots of panels. 

“Do you think this one is too dense?” Bonnie asked, taking careful steps around a Douglas Fir. You peered at it, continuing to shade out its leaves in your journal. 

“Depends on how many ornaments you want to shove in there,” you mumbled, adding a few people to the background of your illustration. 

“I’ve got a good amount that I inherited from Grams,” Bonnie sighed. 

“Then you might want some more space.”

“You’re probably right,” Bonnie looked around, hands on her hips and breath fogging before her. “Plus, this would shed a lot.”

“You’d probably want a Nordmann then,” a smooth voice said from behind you. Both you and Bonnie turned to the source of the voice, and you felt yourself freeze up as you took in the handsome man behind you. He wore a red flannel with a cargo jacket, and you wondered how he wasn’t cold. “Sorry for bothering you. My family owns the farm; I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“So, you know things about trees,” you said, holding your notebook close to your chest. 

“Yes…I know about trees,” he smiled.

“Like the Lorax,” you blurted out, feeling your eyes widen. You could almost hear the look of disappointment on Bonnie’s face. The man chuckled, though, albeit with little confusion. 

“I’m Elijah,” he said, shaking Bonnie’s hand and yours. 

“Nordmann, why would I want that?” Bonnie inquired, pivoting to your previous conversation. 

“Nordmanns don’t shed,” Elijah explained. “They have a blue tone underneath their leaves and are also pretty.”

“Very nice,” Bonnie nudged you, and you sent her a look of approval. “Show me a Nordmann.”

Bonnie ended up choosing a six-foot-tall Nordmann that she affectionately named “Norman the Nordmann.” Elijah and one of his brothers cut the tree down for her and carried it back to her car. Frankly, the level of attraction you felt watching a man carrying a tree over his shoulder was embarrassing, but you didn’t care. You just said thank you in a meek voice and left with Bonnie to decorate her tree. Still, you couldn’t get Elijah out of your mind. 

Plus, as you spent time working on your animation final, you realized that one of your characters started to look more and more like Elijah. 

Which is how you kept ending up at the Christmas tree farm. 

You couldn’t just show up and sit around waiting to see Elijah walk by. That would be incredibly humiliating for you. So, instead, after your third time going to the farm and lurking in the trees like a creeper, you decided to buy a wreath. The farm had a tiny little hut selling wreaths, ornaments, hot cocoa, and more. They even had a photo album full of pictures of their customers from over the years. One of the sisters always sat in the hut, reading a new book each day, and finally pointed out that you always came in but never bought anything, which is how you ended up with a beautiful wreath you hung up in your apartment. Feeling guilty, you came back the next day and bought another wreath. You always bought a wreath and free hot cocoa after you finished sketching the farm (and Elijah). You realized at some point you should probably buy a tree and move on from your infatuation, but that would involve confronting your wiles, which would simply be unacceptable. 

Today was week three, thirteen wreaths later. You curled up in the corner of the farm with your journal, burrowing into your scarf to fight off the chill. You already had several panels drawn of the day in and day out of the farm, but now you were debating tearing yourself away and drawing Freya (your hot cocoa provider and sister who reads inside the wreath hut) through the acts of reading. Something blocked your light though, as you were drawing, and you looked up to see Elijah hovering over you. Your eyes widened. 

“You have come in every day, you realize that?” he asked, hands in his pockets and a slight smirk on his lips. You likely looked like a deer in the headlights. 

“I like trees,” you answered, immediately looking down at your hands as your brain screamed WHAT ARE YOU DOING? 

“Like the Lorax?” Elijah smirked, and you felt your jaw drop as he recalled your first day. 

“I can go,” you said, starting to get up, but Elijah put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. The heat from his hand spread throughout your arm like fire to a forest. 

“You don’t have to leave,” he dropped his hand, fiddling with the cuffs of his flannel. “I just noticed that you have never gotten a tree.”

“I haven’t.”

“Do you want one?” He gestured towards the plethora of Christmas trees around you, and you started feeling like a mouse cornered by a cat. A very attractive cat. 

“I could…get a tree,” you crossed your arms, hugging yourself. Putting your journal back in your bag, you gave Elijah your name and followed him deeper into the tree line. He showed you several different variants, explaining their pros and cons, but you stopped at a four-foot Noble that was more sparse on one side and slightly crooked. “I like him.”

Elijah looked at the tree you were pointing at and raised an eyebrow as if to ask seriously? You had a small smile as you circled your crooked, kind of terrible, tree. It was imperfect, and it’s why you liked it. Elijah sighed but agreed to give you the tree. He cut it down himself (it was small enough), and you checked out with Freya, who laughed at you finally buying a tree. 

“Where’s your car?” Elijah asked, tree propped up against him. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t have one,” you stammered. You realize you can’t get a tree home without a car. “I walked.”

“You walked,” Elijah said plainly. You were thinking that he probably thought you were an idiot. 

“I live four blocks away.”

“Alright… let's go,” Elijah sighed, hoisting the tree over his shoulder. 

“Uh, excuse me?” You held out your hands to stop him. 

“To take your tree home.”

“I can take my own tree home, thank you very much.” Elijah stared at you with a blank expression. He would’ve made an excellent diplomat if he wasn’t busy cutting down trees. You stared right back, trying your best to assert dominance. His eyes stared into yours deeply, and finally you relented. “Fine, you can take my tree home,” you mumbled, feeling frustrated as a smile broke across his face. 

“Lead the way,” he gestured. You stalk a guy for weeks, and now he’s coming to your apartment with a tree you didn’t intend to buy. You thought that Bonnie would’ve gotten a kick out of this. He follows you out of the lot and onto the street, keeping quiet as he carries the tree with no complaints. You wonder how much he could bench press if he lifted the tree like it was nothing. You got to your building, a little four-story brick apartment, and let him in. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the plethora of wreaths lining the doors in the hall. “Are these all…?”

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “I’m the building manager, so I gave everyone a wreath.” Elijah still looked surprised but didn’t say anything else as he followed you to your apartment door tucked into the corner of the first floor. You wiggled your lock before slamming your shoulder into the door to open it. “It gets stuck sometimes,” you explained, opening the door further for Elijah to enter. 

With Elijah peering around your place, you suddenly felt very self-conscious. It was a small place. The layout was straightforward. Your front door opened into your small kitchen, with the bathroom to the right. Your living room was just a couch, a TV you got from your aunt, and a coffee table. You didn’t have a dining room, just a tiny breakfast nook you haggled off Facebook Marketplace. Your bedroom was off the living room, just a bed and a desk. The thing that sold you on the apartment, though was the beautiful circular window behind the couch and the fact you got cheap rent in a city as long as you acted as building manager. 

“Where would you like to put your tree?” Elijah inquired. 

“I guess over here is fine,” you walked over to the space between the wall and your couch, currently inhabited by your basket of yarn that you use for knit projects. 

“Do you have a tree stand?” He put the tree down against the wall. You kept your mouth shut as you watched realization flash across his face. “You bought a tree without a tree stand?”

“I didn’t intend to buy a tree,” you defend yourself. Elijah lets out a small sigh of exasperation, fidgeting with the tree so it can lean on its own. 

“I’ll be right back,” Elijah exits before you can say anything. You glare at the tree, internally blaming it for your current predicament. Keeping busy, you started a pot of coffee in your kitchen while you hunted around for something to decorate the tree with. You came back with a basket of crochet stars and some twine. Maybe you could make a garland and then harass Bonnie for some twinkle lights. You know she had them; she covered her entire place in them like it was Tinkerbell’s house. As you were stringing stars onto your twine, you heard a knock on your door before Elijah entered, box in hand. “Alright, I got you a tree stand, and Freya sent me with ornaments.”

“She’s a good egg,” you smiled, helping him with the box as he started fitting the tree into the stand. 

“That she is,” he laughed, sending you a grin that made your stomach perform cartwheels. You laid out the ornaments Freya sent on your counter, smiling at the cute little animals. She even sent along a glitter-covered mushroom. Your coffee machine dinged, and you moved to pour yourself a cup. 

“Do you want coffee? I got vanilla syrup,” you offered, holding up a reindeer mug. 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Elijah smiled. You made him a small latte, as you enjoyed any chance to perfect your latte art. You went to a Korean cafe once and watched them craft a bear, and since then have forced yourself to learn how to do the same. You added a little heart, and handed the latte to Elijah who looked at it fondly. “You’re very creative.” He looked at the star garland you had discarded from earlier. “Did you make this?”

“Yeah…it’s the only decor I have,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee and enjoying the warmth seeping into your bones. Elijah picked up the garland and started wrapping it around the tree, making sure each branch was evenly spaced and that the stars were visible. 

“Do all customers get you decorating their tree?” you asked, the corner of your mouth lifting up in a smile. 

“Just the ones I like,” Elijah responded, his back still towards you. You felt your cheeks flush at his comment. He was likely just flattering you. He stepped away from the tree when he was done, and your eyes lit up as you took in his careful work. 

“Well, thank you,” you coughed, putting your coffee down on the counter and shuffling on your feet. You expected Elijah to make a move to leave, but he stayed there, staring at you with thoughtful eyes. He really had very kind eyes, the type you felt at ease under. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Elijah’s brows furrowed, his fingers dancing over the buttons of his cuffs as he looked at you inquisitively. You nodded to let him continue. “Why did you come to the farm everyday?”

“Honestly?” you laughed, glancing away. “I liked to draw you.”

“Draw me?”

“Yeah…it’s silly, isn’t it?” you rubbed the back of your neck, your arms wrapping around to curl more into yourself. 

“May I see?”

“See what?”

“The drawings,” Elijah dared a step closer to you. He smelled like the trees he cultivated, rich and earthy. You felt that if someone were to be personified as a rainy forest, he would be that person. You walked over to your bag, nervously pulling out your sketchbook and handing it to him. His fingers brushed yours, but you quickly pulled away. You hated people looking at your work, so you kept yourself busy by cleaning up the kitchen. You could hear the flipping of the pages, and with each turn the coil in your stomach grew tighter. You were so nervous, you felt like you could break at any moment. What if he hated the drawings? You could never recover. When you heard the thud of the book closing, you dared turning towards Elijah and felt your heart clench as you met his gaze. 

“My brother would hate you,” Elijah said, putting your sketchbook carefully on the kitchen counter. “You’re a much better artist than him.”

“Oh,” you responded, some pressure alleviating in your chest. 

“You captured me very kindly,” Elijah smiled, stepping around the kitchen island to get closer to you. You instinctively took a step back. 

“I see you very kindly,” you whispered, your voice soft on his ears. “It was for a class animation, I…hope I didn’t offend you.”

“You couldn’t offend me,” Elijah reassured. “You make me feel appreciated.”

“Are you not?” 

“A family as large as mine,” Elijah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s easy to lose sight of things.”

“Well, I see you…if that matters,” you said. Your heart was running a race with how fast it was beating. Elijah grabbed your hand, his thumb running over your knuckles like you were a precious artifact. 

“Y/N,” Elijah started, biting his lip in thought. “I’m glad that you kept coming back.” You noticed that his fingers were calloused and rough, likely from all the work of the farm. “I would like to take you out, if that’s alright.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, earning a smile from the man in front of you. “I would like that a lot.” Elijah tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before glancing back at your sketchbook. 

“May I see the animation, when its done?”

“Of course.”

“Can I give you something?” Elijah questioned, turning back to look at you. You nodded slowly, unsure of what he was thinking. Elijah leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. His hands came up to cup your head, his fingers brushing through the strands of your hair. He was gentle, but firm, and you found yourself tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Kissing him felt like first snowfall, or when you learned you had a day off from school. He pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and the top of your head. 

“That was a good gift,” you whispered, enjoying the deep chuckle that emanated from Elijah. “Does this mean I can stop buying Christmas wreaths?” That earned an even bigger laugh. 

“You really are an enigma,” Elijah smiled, kissing you again on your lips. 

Oh yes, you guess there is a very good reason to go to a Christmas Tree Farm every day