#Was it just to show the scarves were special?

[driftingballoons]

Day 2: Evolution

it may not evolution in the typical sense, but they can’t dwell on that right now

@heropartnerweek

[be-my-ally]

Big Bunny

Playboy Bunny Reader x Elvis on the Playboy jet request

it might be 3:30am here, i may have work today at 9 and i may have to proof read over this again tomorrow but still, here, have a bunny themed fic - very apt for a slightly (at least for where i am) belated good friday gift (for those who celebrate and a spring themed passover/ramadan/weekend gift for everyone else) !!

I genuinely did not expect to end up doing nearly as much research for this as I did - and therefore there ended up being significantly more back story than I anticipated for what I had planned to be a short smutty one shot lol so… here’s a p ridiculous 9.8k fill xx 

pairing: jet bunny reader x 1973-4 elvis (yes we are going that specific this time) - early big daddy era.

summary: freshly hired shy new playboy bunny reader and elvis get up to some fun away from the other passengers on Hugh Hefner's private plane, the aptly named 'Big Bunny'.

warnings: 18+, 18+, penetrative sex (p in v), oral (v receiving), lil bit of fingering, gratuitous use of the term 'bunny' and all accompanying euphemisms, elvis (as always in my writing) refers to himself as daddy.

wc: 9.8k

You nervously adjust your scarf around your neck; it’s windy, and you’re worried about your hair—that its carefully styled easy look might be ruined by the breeze. You roll from one foot to the other in anticipation; you can already feel the leather of the new, tall boot starting to rub behind your knee, and you’re hopeful for the chance to switch it out for your regular heels on board. The other girls are quiet, and that’s how you can tell that they too are nervous or excited—anticipatory perhaps. Usually, they would be chattering away right now—at least, that’s your experience from the last few flights you’d worked. But for some reason, the knowledge of this special guest had made them all fall silent, worrying their scarves or hair, and checking one another’s lipsticks, even more so than when Hugh was on board. Perhaps it was, like the Bunny bible said, because there was the knowledge that you were all representatives of the brand, and that was even more true for someone who wasn’t the owner of the brand, or perhaps it was simply because it wasn’t just any boring old investor but Elvis Presley flying on board today.

You’re all too young to remember much of him in his early prime or his dizzying launch to success, but you know that every girl in this line-up had watched the ’68 special, probably at a similar formative age to you, and had an experience; it had been impossible not to. You had been on the cusp of being 16 and were utterly gobsmacked and captivated by the television set as you watched him gyrate in a full black leather suit. Your mind had gone blank, and you couldn’t have told anyone what your father had said about it—you honestly couldn’t hear him because you were so shocked and excited by what you were seeing. Suddenly, you understood. You’d all discussed the marvel of the possibilities of the use of the satellites for the Aloha show only a few months ago, and you knew you weren’t the only bunny in the group who still found him almost alarmingly attractive. The concept, therefore, of being loaned out to him with the plane made you more than a little nervous. Another fragment of your anxiety for this flight also revolved around your new uniform—you weren’t comfortable in it yet; a teeny leatherette dress that somehow seemed far more revealing than your corset had ever seemed. Perhaps because it felt less like a costume in some way, perhaps because it simply was so unlike anything you would wear in day-to-day life—the over-the-knee boots were uncomfortable still too. 

It’s unclear how you’d become so attached to the little corset costume when you were still so new to the plane and to this life as a whole. You’d been well-trained and ready to use your newfound, extensive bar knowledge while working as a table bunny in the club in LA. Although you had hoped that you might be spotted and bumped up to a more senior position in a little while—that one day you might be able to work your way up to the mansion or maybe even be handpicked to be a playmate—it all seemed so glamorous, and the attention was so exciting. You’d never dreamed you would, after only working a month, be handpicked as a jet bunny. It had been one of the most exciting moments of your life. Since then, you’ve not been flying for very long, although the training had been intense and your first flight had only been two weeks ago. And it had been a pretty slow start, with just Hugh and a couple of colleagues on board. They had their favourites, and while you had been chatted to and flirted with—treated well—you had also been mostly ignored.

Elvis, as far as you could tell, didn’t have favourites; he hadn’t requested anyone in particular from the thirty or so girls on regular rotation for the jet, and it made you relieved to think that you were on a mostly even keel with the other girls. You’d gossiped about it as you packed your bags onto the plane before you’d all ended up where you were now: standing in a row waiting for him to pull up, having been given word that he was mere minutes away. When you looked down at the other girls, you couldn’t help but wonder why, as one man with a small entourage for the flight, he really needed the bunny equivalent of five stewardesses. But, you think to yourself, at least he did because, as the most junior of the bunch, you definitely would have been the first to be bumped from the flight.

It’s only another few minutes until his long, sleek, white Cadillac pulls up in front, another car close behind, and his long legs are immediately sliding out of the car, almost before its even come to a complete stop. He seems eager to be away. He’s arguing with someone and barely acknowledges any of you as he starts to storm up the stairs towards the jet entrance—clearly familiar with the plane already. It becomes pretty clear pretty quickly that he wasn’t arguing with someone physically with him but was instead recounting what had been discussed on the phone in the car—you could hear him swearing as he went inside, 

"I fuckin’ asked her to come out here with me, and now she’s being all cold, just then she was sayin’ she don’t wanna see me -" You can’t hear anything more, and you look down the row before Darla in front shrugs her shoulders and starts greeting the other couple of men still coming out of the car, and in the car behind, there were around a dozen guys in total, no women other than you five, which wasn’t unusual on the jet but wasn't entirely expected either.

A moment later, Elvis is hurrying back down the stairs, panting slightly as he comes. He arrives back in front of you, the last in line, with a series of apologies.

"Lord, where are my manners? I’m so sorry, girls. Hello, nice to meet ya; well, aren’t you all pretty little things?" You blush, and he catches your eye, winking at you as he presses a kiss to your cheek. He smiles at the rest of them, and Darla launches into her ‘Welcome to Big Bunny’ spiel as she directs him back up the way he just came. Your mind is racing as you follow them all up the stairs, and you’re more than a little distracted as you close the door and conduct the safety checks. Does that mean something? That he singled you out?

You weren’t meant to be his main assistant; of course, the main focus for today was keeping him happy, but you’d been specifically told that your purpose was to make sure the other passengers felt that they were getting similar attention. You didn’t have the experience, as Darla had told you, to understand how to deal with men like him. Those that think they’re special or that just because you’re wearing a bunny outfit they have some sort of claim on you, that you’re all the same and your centrefold is owed to them. And also, she’d flippantly added, you were still very inexperienced, and first and foremost she had to consider the brand. Now as you watch her take his arm up the stairs, you think you might be understanding her motivations a little more; her hips swaying more than they usually would. But you can’t say you blame her or that her other observations were wrong. You were inexperienced, both in flying and with men. But, as you’re locking the door shut and heading around to fetch towels and drinks before the pilots engage the engine, you can feel his eyes on you, and you think, I know what that means. 

It’s a pretty long flight for a domestic flight—four or five hours, depending on the route the pilot takes—so you have plenty of time to get to know the passengers and ensure they’re all well taken care of. You’ve heard rumours from some of the other girls that this kind of flight can often go one of two ways: either the men are rowdy, raucous, and handsy, or they’re quiet, appreciative, but distant. You had assumed Elvis and his entourage would be the former, but from the way he quickly gets himself situated and settled in the forward compartment, you’re inclined to believe it will be the latter. You can’t help but notice he’s sequestered himself in the back; a couple of the men are with him, but the rest are a series of seats away. It seems like even the inner circle has an inner circle.

Before serving the drinks, you have a chance to look over at him. Trying to be inconspicuous, you’re surprised at how large he is. You’ve never realised how tall he really is, but he’d remained a few inches taller than you even in your heels, and while the plane is more spacious and furnished less compactly than the average, it still serves to make him seem bigger in contrast to the environment. He seems to take up more space than his body needs too, like his presence needs allowance; he looks incapable of staying on one seat, and the way he spreads his legs, his knees falling open, it’s like he doesn’t even realise he might be taking up more than his fair share of space. 

You don’t realise how long you’ve been standing there, peering behind a partition wall, pretty much directly at his spread thighs. Until you move your eyes up, tracking up his body past his famously large belt to his open collared shirt, through which you can see tiny wisps of chest hair peeking through. You assess how his shirt is lying on him, clinging but well-tailored, and his trousers too, tight around his thighs and well-fitted on his waist but equally well-tailored, looking comfortable and well-fitted. Your eyes continue to roam over him until they come to rest on his face, and you realise he’s been watching you look at him. He’s smirking at you, clearly used to the attention but perhaps still flattered that he inspires it, and winks through his lavender-coloured glasses. You immediately duck back, taking a moment to gather yourself from the embarrassment of being caught out, before heading back out with the first tray of drinks.

It wasn’t your place to be, but you couldn’t help but be pleased when he showed himself not to be the type to start demanding wildly complicated cocktails—in fact, rolling his eyes when one of the men, Red, perhaps his name was, asked for a mai tai—and at his clear desire to remain sober, simply requesting a Pepsi. You take a breath, plastering your customer service smile on, determined to ignore any embarrassment, and swing around with the tray. Praying you don’t trip or spill anything in front of him.

Thankfully, you make it around without consequence, your thorough club training coming into play and keeping you steady even when there’s a mild bump as the plane engines start to roar. He grins up at you when you hand him the drink, and you can’t help but return it, beaming at him, forgetting your practised coquettish expression. You have to head back, sit down for a moment while the pilots announce your takeoff, and try not to grimace, knowing that your face can be seen from the compartment, at the feeling of taking off. You’re fine in the air, but that whooshing feeling of the plane jetting forward and up, the moment where you can feel the balance of the wings against the air as the engine battles its way up, still sends a wave of anxiety over you. Maggie brushes her hand over yours where it lies on the little armrest between the steward seats, and you thankfully grasp it, taking deep breaths. Once the pilot has announced you are officially flying and will be for approximately four more hours, you’re pleased you can finally stand up again and relax somewhat.

You’re not really needed for much for a little while, so you bounce about, chatting and keeping them company, talking with some of the other girls as you help to serve more drinks and food, and setting up the games tables when asked. Elvis has demanded the theatre be set up, so you arrange that, praying that when you return to the room he’ll have picked one of the latest cinematic releases and not, as you feared, one of the many adult releases available. You’re not sure you could keep a straight face if you had to watch him watch Deep Throat; it would just be too much to bear.

So you’ve avoided the lounge by staying in the forward compartment and helping the men there. Before you were sent on a mission to see if there was any peanut butter on board, a special request had apparently been made, but whether it had been complied with was yet to be seen. When Michelle, one of the more senior girls, suddenly appeared beside you, grabbing your arm and speaking in a hurried, hushed tone, she told you that you really ought to change. You panic for a second that something was wrong with your dress, but she’s quick to assure you that it was nothing like that. But Elvis had taken her aside and mentioned that although he "love[s] your yittle skirts, like yer spies or somethin’," he was "missin’ them little bunny outfits" and had left that with her. He hadn’t specifically requested anyone should change, but she’d successfully read between the lines of the very obvious hint and was, therefore, suggesting that you, Daisy, and Maggie change into your bunny corsets. You’d all planned for this possibility, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected, but you were still slightly surprised. You’d not been given the impression that Elvis had been that bothered by the theme of the plane, of you, but rather was utilising the plane for the luxury and convenience of the travelling experience. But if he was requesting your bunny outfits, clearly he was more into it than you thought.

It’s not long after that you do as requested and emerge from the powder room in your little patented corset teddy, the black silk highlighting your complexion and the little collar and bow emphasising your neckline. You were slightly annoyed that despite your careful packing, your little cottontail puff had been flattened, and so you’d had to spend way too long fluffing it to bring it back to life. This also meant that you were the last to emerge, and there was no way you could deny noticing that Elvis himself was sitting back in the forward compartment, turned so that he was practically facing the powder room door, watching you exit with a satisfied smirk on his face. You try to ignore him, listening to the conversations happening around you and trying to anticipate everyone’s needs. In your absence, more substantial snacks have been served, and you can see the remnants of some sort of peanut butter sandwich situation dotted around the room, so clearly that had been found too. There’s now a discussion happening about whether you should turn on the lights in the disco room or wait a little while to eat first. Eventually, it’s decided a proper meal is imperative at some point in the flight, but that right now? They wanted music.

So you all move down the plane. You end up walking directly behind Elvis, and when the plane bumps up and down briefly in the tiniest spot of turbulence, you trip into his back. You right yourself with help from one of his arms, apologising, but you’re flustered. It’s only worse when he turns to you.

"No need to be sorry, doll; you can fall into my arms whenever you like." It was one thing to imagine how he felt, but to be able to remember the feel of him, even from behind, even from just a brief moment of contact, was a heady feeling. Especially when he felt just as you’d imagined he would—soft but firm and broad. So broad. Walking behind him like this also made you nervous for another reason: it made you feel as if your movement down towards the intimate bedroom quarters at the end might be signalling something. The cosiness of the rooms between -- the disco and the lounge, perhaps reflective of the internal struggle you’re facing; the disco the butterflies in your belly.

You know you won’t be able to prevent meeting his eye again. The thought worries you; you’ve been around attractive men before, of course, but never one that, just by looking at him once, has made you feel like you would risk giving up everything for a few hours of fun. Lose everything you have simply for the pleasure of touching him. Maybe this was what Darla was concerned about; you can see her glance over to you every now and again, checking in, and you can tell she’s a little bothered by something.

Once you’re in the disco, the girls and you are well-practised at setting it all up, making sure there are enough tracks ready to be played and that there was easy access to free-flowing drinks and bar snacks. You’re also all very used to essentially having to start the dancing yourselves, having to encourage the others to join in despite their enthusiasm in suggesting the disco. You hang back slightly, holding a tray, when Elvis lightly grasps your elbow. You jump, having not seen him come to your side, and look questioningly at him.

"Dance for me, baby?" You’re not a stripper or a go-go dancer or anything like that, but it’s not a request that’s unheard of in the clubs. And you enjoy it; you wouldn’t be in the job if you didn’t get a slight thrill from being looked at, watched, wanted. So it’s easy to agree, especially when you’ve always found it hard to ignore a man when he adds a pet name, and besides, you want to. So you do. Elvis sits himself down, and a few of the men join in, and you and Maggie and Daisy all dance around them. You prance and shimmy, and soon most of the passengers onboard are dancing around to the music that plays from the surround system.

The group cheered and laughed when Burning Love was played on the 8-track, and Elvis sang along, laughing and joking when he missed one of the high notes ("God almighty, that’s high"). You notice that after a while Elvis has disappeared back into the living area and looks like he might be close to nodding off; sat there with his head back. You suppose he must be tired—you don’t know what he was doing prior to the flight this afternoon, but you do know he was coming off of the back of a week straight of shows and heading towards another one. You again know it’s not your place, and yet you still can’t help feeling like you ought to check on him.

You head over, leaning over, and crouching in the way you’re told to, almost in a bunny dip. He blinks up at you when you touch his shoulder.

"Lord, you’re a vision." You’re taken aback and can’t do much more than crouch there, stuck in place. "Talk with me, honey?" He pats your arm, and you nod, standing upright again and looking for a place to perch. There’s nowhere for you to sit down, or perch, few seats as there were in this living area, attached to the disco, and with the other men and girls also collapsing around you, you awkwardly look around for a moment before Elvis’ hand comes out and wraps around your thigh, pulling you down onto his lap.

"Oh!"  You gasp, "Oh, I—I, uh, don’t think you’re meant to touch me, sir."

"Bunny, for the next three hours, I own you." He chuckles but removes his hands from your legs, although he makes no attempt to shift you from his lap, instead sitting further back, causing you to fall more securely onto his lap. You avoid what is sure to be judging looks from the other girls as they hand him drinks and chat with the other boys on board. You’re wrong about them watching you and judging you; of course, all the other girls are distracted, and even when they do glance over, it’s mostly to check that you, as the new girl, are still doing okay. Despite any jealousy they may be feeling about the attention he’s giving you, they still know how shocking and abrupt all of this can suddenly feel when you’re being confronted with men like him.

He’s surprised when you look shy, and you know the rumours abound—about how you’re all able to make extra cash—the private parties for the number one keyholders. But it’s not something you’re forced into just by virtue of being a bunny, and it’s not something you’ve been interested in finding out more about. Still, being perched on his firm lap, the seams of his suit rubbing against your silk tights, you can’t help but wish that you had asked more about it; found out if there were expectations. You wouldn’t want to let him down. You awkwardly sit there a moment before opening your mouth, 

“So, uh, what did you wanna talk about?” He smiles, 

“Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself honey.” So you do, giving him the basic information of your life, while he hmms and uh-huhs in all the right moments to show he’s listening to you. You’re starting to run out of steam and you’re about to ask him to tell you something when you’re distracted by him reaching to the side of you, jostling you a little. 

He lights a cigar, and you can feel the heat of the tip. You shift the tiniest bit; you don’t know why it’s getting you so hot. You’re suddenly grateful for the subtle but multiple layers you’re wearing. Thankful for the fact that you’ve never listened to the few girls who swear it makes more sense not to bother with panties; you’d never been convinced that it wasn’t asking for trouble—something was sure to slip or become exposed. But you also always wore a double layer of pantyhose. He grunts the tiniest bit as you bump back into his stomach, and when you pause for a moment, you can feel a dampness growing between your legs. Through all the layers, he can’t feel it, thank God, but he does murmur to you: "Lord, are you a hot little Bunny." He strokes the small of your back, and you somehow know he doesn’t just mean it in the attractive sense, but that he can feel your heat.

You wriggle back against him, thinking, - don’t waste your chance, girl; don’t do it; you may as well go for it. All of your sense of propriety is lost, and you’re suddenly completely ignorant of the happenings around you. You can feel where the rubber around the edge of the leg bands of the teddy is starting to roll, being unable to stay put on the slippery tights and causing it to fall further away from your thighs riding up. You know he can feel it too, as close as you are. And while you’re still theoretically clothed, you can feel his trouser leg better on your thigh after it rolled up; he said you were hot, but he’s burning, it feels like. You push back onto him, feeling his tummy nudge against you, and under your tail, what felt like a growing erection. You don’t know what’s come over you, where this sexual confidence, this determination, this lack of self-consciousness, has come from. You wonder if it could just be the adrenaline of being so close, but you still go with it, and you nudge your ass back to him, grinding a little.

"Don’t baby," he pushes you forward a little, with his one free hand, blowing smoke past the side of your face, and you giggle, putting on a faux deep voice.

"Don’t procrastinate; don’t articulate…" You can’t even get the words out of your mouth you’re giggling so hard, wiggling in his lap, and it sets him off too, shaking his head and murmuring against your ear.

"Lord save me, girlie, you’re trouble, ain’t ya?" He holds you still. You try, but you’re practically incoherent because you’re laughing so hard.

"If you're lookin' for..." But your laughter cuts off when he hooks a finger in the corset and strokes it down your inner thigh—somewhere that you would have slapped anyone else and whispers, 

"You came to the right place." You gasp, head going back, and his own tucking into your shoulder - he holds out the cigar, and, despite having barely lit it, rests it in the tray to the side of you so that he can use both hands to grip your waist. It’s ridiculously cheesy, and you don’t want to think about how many times and with how many girls he might have used similar lines, or how easy it must be for him.

"You want me, Bunny?" You still don’t know if you should be playing hard to get or if you should just give in to the inevitability of it all. "Can feel your little tail pressin’ into me - little puffy thing. Twitching ‘gainst me;" You wrinkle your nose cutely at his words, and he smiles into your neck: "Even a little twitchin’ bunny nose!" he presses a finger to it, and the strokes down to your lips. He rests it there for a second, "Do you wanna do this, bun?" You decide you may as well give in and nod—there's no point trying to play it cool when you’re sitting on his lap. You open your mouth, trying to catch his finger in your teeth as he fools around with you. He pulls you around, so one of your bent knees is now pressed against him and your other is resting on the seat, facing him. You shiver, loving how his sturdy hands manhandle you. You lean forward, as if to kiss him, when he stills you, 

"Baby, we’re surrounded." You glance up, confused expression on your face, and a question in your eyes: Why would it matter? They all know the score. He shakes his head. "It’s your job isn’t it? You can’t - we shouldn’t?" You shrug your shoulders, he’s technically right and mere minutes ago you’d been worried about it yourself, but... It’s also not completely true to say that you would be discouraged from doing this with him.

"Say doll, how’d’ya - how’d’ya feel about joinin’ me?" Your heart flips, you glance around, but it appears the other girls are either preoccupied or purposefully avoiding looking at you. Plausible deniability. You’re frozen, and he stands up, pushing off of his lap, and leaves without looking back at you, only stopping at the door to the bedroom to call back,

"You coming or what?" So sure that you’ll follow him in. You glance around, and only Darla catches your eye. You’re wide-eyed and panicked at being caught, but she looks at you for a moment before nodding slightly and winking as she turns away. Somehow, it untangles the ball of anxiety that you didn’t realise was holding you so tense. Seconds later, you stand up, clearing the empty glasses from the tables around you, when Michelle swoops in, taking them out of your hands and nudging you with her hip towards the bedroom. Right then. You follow where Elvis had gone only a minute or so ago, and you cross past the little faux wood door into the bedroom. You look around but find that he’s already in the bathroom—perhaps so certain that you would follow that he didn’t even need to check that you had come in.

You sit anxiously on the big, round, fur-covered bed as you wait for him to reappear. You cross your legs before immediately uncrossing them and standing up—wondering if it was too presumptuous to be sitting there waiting for him. A moment later, leaning against the wall, you change your mind, deciding to sit on the edge again. It really did make the most sense. And while you didn’t want to make it seem like you were assuming something, you doubted he’d invited you back here to play checkers. He comes out and watches you for a brief second before coming over to stand in front of you, mere inches apart, so you’re forced to crane your neck up to look at him.

You’re a little skittish, and he can tell by the way you tremble when his hand comes up to touch your shoulder; he leans forward as if to kiss you, and you pull back. He pauses. 

"What’s the matter, little Bunny? Why are’ya so twitchy now?" He doesn’t want to force himself, but he also can tell you want him, even before you willingly followed him here. He also knows that you must know the score—you can’t be that innocent in your role—and you must understand what he’s asking of you.

"I’m, I’m just -- it’s just a little surreal, you’re Elvis Presley. I don’t know how to, I've never been with anyone famous." He smiles, thankful that he hadn’t misread the situation — god forbid what the newspapers would have said about that if it had leaked: Elvis forces himself onto Playboy Bunny, BANNED from Hefner’s jet. It doesn’t bear thinking about. So he does the one thing he knows he can do well — can do so well that most women forget their worries and tilts your chin up to kiss you. He brackets your body with his thighs and cups your face in both hands. He’s masterful at it, knowing all the right moves,  just the right amount of tongue forced into you, mapping your mouth. His lips are so soft, and his little nibbling bites on your lower lip hurt just the right amount for you to be totally consumed by his actions. He nudges you to move further up when you break apart, and you shimmy up a little, your legs coming up so that only your ankles are not on the bed. He presses one knee between your legs, balancing so he can move forward enough to kiss your cheek, his own high cheekbones rubbing against your face, and whisper, 

"I’m just a man, hon, just like any other — don’t, don’t worry ‘bout it." He leans over and you’re forced onto your back, his hand catching you and lowering you down gently onto the fur coverlet. You lean up to kiss the exposed part of his neck, your nose nudging against his high collar. 

"I, uh, god, I haven’t been around that many men in general — not like this, so that doesn’t actually make me feel a whole lot better. " You respond quietly. He pauses where his hand had been starting to fiddle with the zipper on the back of your corset. Pulling himself up to look you in the eyes. 

"You, have - you have been with a man though? Right Doll?" You nod, frantically, you might be nervous but god don’t let him stop now. 

"Yes - yes, just, just only the one." He moans on top of you, clearly liking the answer. You feel the zipper come down, and your chest is finally allowed to expand properly again, free from the restrictive boning. You suddenly panic, holding the garment close to your chest as you force him back a little. He rolls sideways, onto his elbow, to watch you; 

"What’sthe matter baby?" He looks concerned as you force yourself up into a sitting position, 

"Uh, could you - could you just close your eyes or something while I take this off?" He frowns, 

"Well, sure, but… I don’t think you need to worry ‘bout modesty right now." You smile nervously back, trying for a blasé air — 

"No, no, I know it’s just — it would just make me feel better." He looks at you, clutching the corset teddy to your chest. He nods, starting to close his eyes and you let out a sigh of relief, immediately standing up and wriggling out of it. You’re bent over, folding the fabric over itself when he starts to talk, 

"I ain’t got a problem making you comfortable, babe, but if it’s about them little cottontails stuffed down your top I already know." You pause. Whirling around to see him peeking through his lashes at you. You forget to be shy, stood there topless, braless in nothing but your pantyhose and heels and you put your hands on your hips. 

"How on earth —“ He laughs at you, opening his eyes properly, 

"I’m not new to this game sweetheart." You can tell he’s teasing, but now he’s made you slightly worried that it's always been obvious thatyou weren’t quite as endowed as you were claiming, 

"How’d you tell though?" 

"You’re not the first girl meeting me with something stuffed down their shirt, darling, you just, sometimes you can just tell— I don’t know what you’d be stressin’ over though," He takes a moment to very obviously look you over, "they’re some pretty little tits." You’re pleased, but annoyed that he’s still decided to use the term little. 

"Well - isn’t that why! Little!" He laughs at your indignation, reaching a hand out to pull you back to him, but he can barely speak through his giggles.

"No, no, no I didn’t mean it like that." You frown, but his amusement is infectious and you find yourself also giggling - "See, see, there’s a good girl - no reason to be sore about it, much more than what you’ve got’sa waste anyway mama, you’ll see." 

He puts you back where he wanted you to start with - on your back, as leans over you. The feeling of him still being fully clothed against your chest, your near nakedness, makes you tremble - the soft silk of his shirt rubbing against your nipples. You can smell him, the slight musk of the day masked by cologne - perhaps reapplied in the bathroom a moment ago. His hair is looser than you expected it to be and it’s already starting to flop forward, it unnerves you slightly because it allows you to somehow forget who it is lying over you - the loss of that trademark making you forget that he’s practically a patented figure at this point. Until you catch sight of his blue eyes or his little curled lip and you’re reminded all over again. He strokes up from your waist to your neck and then back down, gentle fingertips dancing over your skin. He leans down to kiss you and your arm winds around his neck, pulling him closer. You’ve never felt a hunger like this. Desire like this before. You’re suddenly desperate to be closer, forgetting to play it cool you’re tugging at his shirt, 

"C’mon get this off!" He laughs at you again, but stands up, ignoring your request. You lie there on your back looking up at him as he assesses you. You can’t help but puff your chest out a little and curve your back. Then he bends to grasp your left ankle, slipping your heel off. You yelp at the unexpectedly quick motion but the relief is almost immediate. He grabs your other ankle to take the other heel off, flinging it against the wall of the plane. Then his hands are immediately going to your black tights, he tries to pull them from the ankle but quickly realises that’s getting him nowhere, unable to get a proper purchase on the slippy material. So he works his way up to the waistband, grasping it and tugging it down. His finger catches by your knee, the rough bitten edge of his nail snagging and you hear the tell-tale ripping sound of them laddering, He laughs as you groan, 

"Oh, no! Those were my last good pair; they cost me nearly seven dollars!" It only makes him laugh harder as he tears them off of you. 

"Tell you what, honey, I’ll make sure you have ten new pairs by the time we land." He throws them somewhere near the rest of your clothes and turns his attention back to your stomach, only to be surprised when he’s met with another pair of pantyhose — this time in a sheer nude. 

"Lordy! How many layers’is there?" You laugh at him, as he begins the process of rolling them down too — lifting your hips to allow them to come down easier than last time; it’s not that you don’t believe he would replace them, but just in case you’d prefer not to rip these too. 

"Not meant to be being touched am I, Mr Presley?" It’s like, as he exposes more of your skin, he can’t help himself from pausing — the tights stay rolled around your knees to allow him to kiss your thighs, or the patch of skin between your belly button and your panties. You lift your leg, allowing him to roll down the last of the hosiery. He rubs over the arch of your foot and you moan at the relief — you may be getting used to the heels now but it didn’t mean that your feet didn’t still ache as soon as they came off. He gives the same attention to the other foot, rubbing firmly, before physically pushing you up the bed. 

"Oh darling, call me Elvis." He strokes up your calves, before he stops again at your feet, "God, has anyone ever told you you’ve got real pretty sooties, Lordy these little toes are gorgeous." You wiggle them at him, you’ve never given much thought to your feet other than deciding what colour to paint your nails. He pulls your foot towards him, lifting your leg up. He kisses along the ball of it, before taking your big toe into his mouth. 

You had never, ever, been turned on by the thought of someone playing, or sucking your feet, but suddenly it’s like electricity zapping up your legs to your tummy and core — you can feel yourself growing damp just from his gentle tongue lapping around your toes and you can’t help little moans falling from your mouth. You’re normally ticklish but this time the sensation forms little jolts through your tummy, making it flip slightly, and butterflies form. He lets go with a little pop, his lips forming the perfect round little ‘O’ of suction and the warm wet heat is suddenly released, causing the air to feel colder and your feet more sensitive than ever before. When you look at him standing there, holding your ankle, caressing your calve you have a sudden flash of what it must be like to be a man — and suddenly you think you can understand why men love being sucked so much. The sight of him, his lips red, your toes wet, is overwhelmingly erotic. 

He keeps going - right up your foot, before he holds your leg up, kissing up it before he put his knees on the bed again, lowering your limb to allow him to kneel over you. He places little kisses up your thighs, and you can feel his chin rubbing against your stomach as he kisses his way up there, he uses one elbow to lean on, keeping himself somewhat horizontal, but his other hand is following his lips. 

"Time to prove it to you, little bun-bun." He whispers against your sternum, before turning his head, licking a line across your breast and capturing your nipple in his mouth. His hand reaches to squeeze your other, pinching the nipple until it hardens into a little nub. He pulls off of where he’s been sucking and blows onto you. The cool air over your wet nipple sends a jolt straight to your pussy — it’s clearly an education for you tonight since you’d also never before known how sensitive your chest really was. He laps at the other side, giving it a similar treatment, palming the breast around it. While you gasp and wiggle underneath him you can feel his length straining in his trousers, and the slight feel of his lowly buttoned shirt, allowing you to feel a slither of the hairs on his chest and tummy is enough to send your arousal into overdrive. You start tugging at his top and trying to feel around his waist to undo one of the belts that had become synonymous with his image, far more insistently than before. Demanding he takes it off, even as the words fail to make it out of your mouth alongside the moans and gasps caused by his ministrations. He pulls back, planting one last kiss on the side of your chest and laughs at you when you beg. 

"Please, gotta see you, wanna see all of you - please Elvis, dreamed about this, gotta see it." But still, he complies with your request, sitting himself up to strip off his shirt; unbuttoning the last few buttons and then standing to kick off his trousers, pulling off his belt. You stare at him. Incapable of doing anything else. He’s carrying more weight than before, especially around his middle, although he’s still clearly a man of generally slim build, padded tummy over muscle. But regardless of his weight, or maybe because of it, he’s still beautiful. You reach for him when he lies back down, stroking the hair on his head - the hair that ensures you recognise that this is no longer the slicked-back hair of his Hollywood days and that he’s no longer a boy in anyway but a man and you need only look at his chest to remind you of that. The few sparse hairs that used to be there have been joined by a collection covering his chest and stomach in a soft carpet. 

His hands move back down the sides of your body and he whispers to you, "Lift up baby," as you would while trying to undress a child to pull your panties down and off of you — throwing them god-knows-where also. You wriggle, nervous and self-conscious as he stares at you. He’s flushed pink down his face and chest, and he looks you over, assessing. He nods, clearly satisfied and smiles when you breathe a sigh of relief. You bring a hand down, and he follows with his own, going to stroke you. 

"God Bunny, you’re dripping." And it’s true, your inner thighs were already sticky with your own slick and you’re genuinely not sure you’ve ever felt this wet without having even touched yourself. He brushes over you lightly, circling your clit, before going to press a single finger into you. Your own hand rests on top of his, ostensibly as if you were guiding him, but really being dragged by him. You let out a moan as he pulls your hand down to join his, directing and tugging your finger to join his, pulling them both out and pushing them back in together as if your two hands made one. It feels wild, it’s so out there, your soft hand intertwined with his rougher fingers pressed against one another as they delve into your most intimate place. 

You’re not unused to the sensation in general but his singular finger alone was similar to two of your own and so you can feel a slight burn at your entrance, a barely-there sting that cuts through the pleasure. Like a pinch of salt atop a cookie, it only enhances the flavour — the feel andyourhips circle around as his thumb finds its way up to rub at your clit.

"Gotta make sure you’re nice and loose for me huh baby, just like a new set’a wheels gotta grease you up." You moan at his words, the objectification for some reason really doing something for you. He uses his other fingers to stroke gently at you and the tickling sensation is almost enough to tip you over the edge. He seems to hold you there for a miraculously long time, and you realise you probably ought to be trying to return the favour so you reach down to tug at his hard cock. It’s a different feel than what you were used to, you’d never been around an uncut penis before, and you didn’t really know what to do with it other than pretend that it was exactly the same as the two others you’d touched. He winces slightly when you roll your palm over before his foreskin has retracted back causing you to roll the skin around, pinching him as you try. He bats your hand out of the way, pumping himself. You take note and recreate his actions as best you can, and you know you’ve hit the sweet spot when his own hips jerk and his hand tightens around your wrist. He pulls his fingers out from you, dragging your hand back with him and flings your arm away, before going back down with three fingers, he prods them at your entrance, testing the boundary before slowly sinking them in. You whine at him, panting, 

"Please, god, Elvis, you gotta, I’m ready for you, I swear I’m ready for you," he pulls his fingers out, and pushes your hand away from his cock, rolling you firmly onto your back and kneeling himself up again. 

"Ok, Ok, Bunny, ok, I hear ya, I can feel you’re ready for me, just, just didn’t wanna hurt you, just wanna make you feel good little Bunny." He pulls your hips towards him and lines himself up. 

He thrusts into you, pulling you onto him and you whine as you feel his sticky head stretching you open. Despite your claims of being ready for him it has been a while. His stomach is resting on yours, his tummy pressing down on you. It’s almost like he’s smothering you, he’s entirely enveloping you. His hands are holding your waist, bracketing you to him. If it were anyone else you think you might find it claustrophobic, so close together that your breath is mingling, you can see his pores, feel his belly button. But for some reason it just makes you want even more of him, getting as close as humanely possible, desperate for however much you can get. His taste, his smell, his everything. 

"Oh god," as he pushes in further, devastatingly slowly, "Tight as a fucking virgin aren’t ya… you sure you haven’t still got your cherry? Sure I’m not about to - ah - pop it ‘gain?" You moan, trying to relax your breathing from its quickened state as you adjust to him inside you. He moves one of his hands to touch you, feeling where you’re spread open and up to press your clit, and you buck up involuntarily at the contact, forcing a few more inches of him in. He groans at the unexpected tight pressure and heat. You clutch at his shoulders as he responds with his thumb speeding up on you. He drives into you, and you clench down as you start to feel his fingers doing their job, along with his cock jabbing against your internal walls. You don’t recognise the noises coming out of your mouth, they’re not the practised noises that you might expect from a woman of your occupation, but the very real moans and groans from a woman surprised at how this could feel.

He’s breathing heavily, and you can see the sweat starting to form, but he keeps the pace — clearly, his near-constant performances have maintained his stamina. A bead of it starts to form on his brow and you watch it drip, slowly, down his cheek towards the little patch of sideburns. You suddenly yearn to taste it, it’s sure to be salty, and maybe a little sweet, but his musky smell is already filling your nostrils and you can’t help but want to lick it. You try to distract yourself, don’t want to embarrass yourself like that, how unbecoming that would be. You try to look at a point beyond his shoulders, but you fail when you feel his hot, large, heavy, hand on you - cupping your cheek and drawing your eyes back to his face. 

"Where ya going little Bunny?" He huffs, "Stay with me." He’s pleading with you and it immediately catches your attention. You nod, frantically, as his hips rock back and forth into you. He grips your waist and hips tight and leans closer, pausing in his rutting to press into you, deep, and catching your mouth with his. When he pulls off of you, he goes to kiss the side of your face, curving over himself to kiss your neck and you can see another drip of swear forming. It’s too much to take and you reach with your hands, both of them cupping his head, pulling him back up to your eye level from your shoulder. He looks up slightly confused at why you’ve stopped him but his eyes quickly roll closed as you lean forward, 

"Wanna taste you, let me taste you daddy." He nods, and you hold his head in place, kissing the side of his mouth, before licking his cheek, little kitten licks before a broader stripe up to his temples, where the sweat is forming. You were right; it’s sweet and salty, manly. His hips stutter a little and you can feel him twitch inside you, your own walls fluttering and clenching a little in response to his feel and taste. He pulls back a few inches, about to thrust back into you but you put a hand on his chest. He frowns down at you, disappointed that you were blocking his movements. 

"Let me, let me — can I, wanna ride you." His eyes roll back and his bitten, pouty, lips fall open in pleasure as he doesn’t say anything but starts to remove himself from you. When his cock pops out, bobbing between you he rubs it against your folds, cockhead bumping your clit. You grind against him, before moaning at the loss as he sits himself at the head of the bed, sliding down to be in a semi-reclining position. 

"C’mon then doll, have at it." He gestures with both hands at his crotch. "Hippity hop little Bun." You grin, you don’t normally love the bunny jokes and comments — you’re not ashamed of your job and in fact, you’re normally quite proud of your career, but you do like to keep it separate from your private life; it’s still your work, and you’re more than just a playboy bunny. But coming from him? If Elvis wants to call you Bunny, he can call you a bunny — hell you’d hop about the room, eating a carrot, until he was satisfied if he asked. 

You sink down onto him, your slick and his precum have lubricated your entrance enough by now to make it far easier than his first push into you, although your mouth still falls open at the feel of the stretch. You moan at the feel of the different angles, hitting different parts of your walls as you bottom out before rising back up, only to rock yourself back down again. You try to pay attention to his face, work out what feels the best for him but honestly you’re too distracted trying to get the angle right for yourself. He seems content, though, to let you do the work, offering you a near-constant stream of praise; 

"Uh-huh that’s it, good girl, good fucking girl.” You circle your hips in response, grinding down and he’s moaning at you, telling you that you’re "treating’ me so nice, oh god, oh yes." You bounce on him until your thighs are shaking and you’re so close, but you just need a little more something. You’re about to say so, and you’re reaching down one of your hands that had been on his shoulders to touch yourself when he says, 

"It alright bunny if Daddy takes over again now?" You feel yourself clench, his slightly condescending tone for some reason heightening your arousal even further, and you nod rapidly. He lifts you off of him, his forearms flexing, and manhandles you into turning around - pushing you down onto all fours. Your arms are a little shaky and you lean down onto your elbows to compensate.  

"Arch your back baby, that’s it." You comply with his request, feeling a little like a whore and how strange it was to feel, as fucked open as you were, the air running past your pussy. He grips your hips and lines up again, one hand staying around your hipbone while the other strayed around to hold you close to him, palm splayed across your lower stomach as he pushes into you again. 

He slides in, the stretch lessening each time — you can still feel him, of course, but it’s less of a burning sensation and more of a gentle pull now. He’s constantly talking — praising you, telling you you’re "so goddamn fucking pretty" that "you were born to take this," and that you were "such a good girl." You’re not used to the noises he pulls from you, and you probably should be more concerned about how thin the walls are - he reminds you a few times that you "gotta be quieter baby, gotta quiet down, be a quiet little Bunny for me", but when his balls are slapping against you, his tummy knocking into you, and his cock is stretching your hole you lose the ability to stay quiet. 

A stream of swears and words of approval coming from your own mouth, "C’mon, please Daddy, please, that’s it, that’s it, give it to me Daddy." 

He reaches around, stroking you and rolling his fingers over the little silky soft patch between his cock and your clit, feeling around where you’re joined. It’s filthy - and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, and when he reaches down with a hand - rubbing his fingers over you just so you’re reminded that you’re not the second person he’s ever fucked. He seems to know all the right moves to get you where he wants you, your head turned against the bed, gasping. You’re knocked momentarily silent when he pulls out, rubbing his cock up and down your folds, jabbing it against your clit before he presses a hand agaisnt your back, forcing your ass up higher and presses back inside you. This time he’s aiming, going deeper than his shallower thrusts before, and he knows he’s aimed true when you wail as he hits the bumpy little spot inside you. He breathes a laugh like your reaction is amusing to him — perhaps because of the sheer shock in your tone and he continues at the same pace. Hitting that same spot and focusing his fingers once again on your clit. 

He circles his middle finger and thumb around, moving closer and closer before eventually, finally, brushing directly over it. It’s enough to make you cry out, thrashing around a little, legs jerking, as you come — your hole clenching around him causing him to groan in time with you. Your body goes slack against him, as he continues to pummel into you, although he does slow down, letting you ride the waves of your orgasm back down. He shifts slightly, pulling you up, and holding you by his grip on your waist and pussy as he kisses the sweat on your collarbone. Before abruptly shoving you back down onto the bed. Your face rubs against the fur as your arms give way, and you grab fistfuls to hold onto as he grips your hips, so tight you’re bound to bruise,  and starts to pound away at you. You’re oversensitive and his rapid pace is a little uncomfortable, but as he starts to swear, and you can feel him drawing near he reaches down with his left hand, and nudges your folds open again. He rubs your clit at a pace that would normally have made you shove the guy off of you, so little attention given elsewhere, but that matches his own hips perfectly and is apparently just the right amount of abrasion to send you careening to the edge again. You convulse on his cock at almost the exact same moment you can feel him rapidly pulling out, to shoot his own cum across your ass and back. 

"Now you got your own little white tail Bunny." He doesn’t let you rest. As soon as he’s stopped spurting he’s pushing you over, rolling you onto your back and diving between your legs. He tongues your sloppy, open, hole and he licks his way up and down your folds, before tongue-fucking into you. His fingers coming up to replace his tongue, scissoring into you, so that he can lick up to your clit, sucking on that little nub and sending your oversensitive self straight through to a third orgasm. You scream, unable to remain quiet any longer, clutching at his hair and holding him tight to you as you writhe against his mouth. He licks you out like a man possessed, like he’s been told it’s essential for the good of humanity, and you’ve never had someone do this to you before; you had no idea this was how this felt, but to have someone so dedicated to the task was a feeling almost as heady as the orgasm itself.

He flops back, resting his head back onto your inner thigh, and you pat gently at his head, still breathless and unable to speak as you blink away black spots in your vision. He’s breathing heavily and you can feel his sweaty forehead on your fingertips. You can’t believe it’s his soft, sweaty hair in your hands. God, you wished this plane would never land. He sits up, and looks down at you, patting at your pussy lightly, as you would a pet, affectionately. You look over at your clothes, wondering if you’ll even be able to contain your puffy folds in the tiny gusset of the corset teddy when he distracts you by leaning down and pressing a kiss against your forehead.

"If it’s alright with you, darling, I think I might request you on my crew every time I fly."

[fandomnerd9602]

Makeshift Prom

Wanda Maximoff x Nerd!Reader

Avengers High Series

Wanda didn’t want this to happen but it did. One little trip while on top of the cheerleaders pyramid and she shattered her ankles.

You were by her side on the whole ambulance ride to the hospital.

“Detka im fine,” she tried to say through gritted teeth. But you knew how much pain she was in. Pietro and the rest of the Maximoff clan quickly ran in, joining you by her bedside.

The doctors cleared her by the next day but told her that she’d be confined to crutches for the next six weeks.

“Six weeks?” Wanda exclaimed, “but prom’s in three!”

Wanda was feeling down, not only was she confined to crutches but she wasn’t able to dance the night away with her detka. She and Natasha had picked out a simple scarlet red dress for her and Pietro had loaned you his tux and everything.

For the first week or so, Wanda found herself being pushed around in a wheelchair by her favorite nerd. You were always whispering words of love and reassurance in her ear as you guided her chair to her next class.

By week two, Wanda was able to use her crutches more efficiently. Even then, she didn’t feel like she could show her face around campus. She couldn’t stand to hear Natasha talk about her prom plans with Bruce or Tony talking about what he bought for Pepper for the event. It felt like torture to her that she wouldn’t be able to attend this event.

You were taking notice of all this, but what Wanda didn’t know was the plan that you, Pietro, Natasha, Bruce, Tony, and the Maximoff parents were all brewing together in secret.

It’s prom night now, Wanda found herself laying on her bed in her bedroom. She hadn’t seen you all day. If anything, she didn’t want a reminder of the prom she couldn’t attend.

“Wanda” her father Django’s thick Sokovian accent called from downstairs. “will you come down here for a second?”

“Coming Papa” she called back, grabbing her crutches and making her way slowly down the stairs.

Wanda stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The sight awaiting her, made her gasp.

Her entire living room was decorated like the Great Hall of Hogwarts. You, Pietro, his girlfriend, and her parents Django and Maria were all dressed up for a little makeshift prom.

“Hello Slytherin” you say with a little smile.

“Hello detka” Wanda found herself crying. “You brought the prom to me?”

“Yeah. Tony helped me with getting the party decorations but yeah”

Django gives you a soft slug on the shoulder, he knew you were perfect for his little girl.

Maria, ever the gentle mother, walks up to her daughter with the scarlet red prom dress in hand. “Better get ready, my little witch” the Sokovian mom whispers, leading Wanda off to the bathroom for a quick change.

Wanda couldn’t believe it, her whole family was willing to put in such an effort to make her smile.

“You have a very special detka” Maria smiles at her daughter as she puts the finishing touches on her daughter’s look.

“I do” Wanda answers back, “thank you Momma”

Maria gives her daughter a kiss on the forehead and helps her back out into the living room. You stand there with a Hufflepuff scarf wrapped around your neck and a Slytherin one on your arm, ready just for her.

“couldn’t afford a corsage” you shrug.

“i was never one for corsages” Wanda shrugs back, letting you wrap the green and black scarf around her neck.

Pietro gives his sister a hug, “you look beautiful sestra.”

Suddenly the door opens as Tony, Pepper, Natasha, Yelena, Vis, Vivian and Bruce all come in, all of them dressed in Hogwarts robes and house scarves that match their respective houses.

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh.

“What happened to prom?” Wanda asks everyone.

“It’s not prom without you” Natasha answers.

“That and Hogwarts is a much better theme than circus” Tony jokes before Pepper playfully slugs him in the arm. “what can i say? we like you, Maximoff.”

You wrap an arm around your girlfriend, “and I love you”

Wanda couldn’t help but blush. She had everything she could ever need. Good friends, loving family, and the love of her life: a nerd who would do anything to make her smile.

Tags @natashaswife4125 @aloneodi @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @holiday-house-of-m @iamnicodemus @family-house-of-m @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @cole-el @russianredassassin

[littlebluentebook]

Alastor x Sewing!Reader pt.4

Chapter 5

You tried to stay open 7-7 on weekdays so that way customers could come in both before and after work. This is why you were not surprised to hear the door jingle at half past five.

"Just a moment please!" you said cheerfully, attempting to finish threading your needle in full focus. "How can I help you today?" only then noticing Alastor in front of you. He was sporting his new coat and a bouquet of flowers.

"I just wanted to come visit you and say thank you for fixing my coat darling," he reached out to give you the flowers, "you will have to teach me how to make your treats as well. They were quite delicious." Alastor ate a bunch between his broadcasts spoiling his lunch but saving a few for his mother.

You smiled at that, " I am quite glad you enjoyed them! I will however be keeping that recipe to myself- its for special occasions only."

"Well then, I feel mighty special to be gifted them" Alastor quipped back at you. "How much do I owe you for the coat?"

"Not a pretty penny of yours doll! It was a favor for walking me home and letting me borrow your coat" you explained to him.

"Only if you're sure Y/N. I have got to be getting back home now, can't keep my mother waiting." he turned to the door.

"Of course! Don't worry her. Feel free to come back if you need anything else Alastor!"

"I may take you up on that my dear." With that, he walked out the door. Nothing but the flowers to signify he was ever there.

The flowers Alasor gave you were absolutely stunning. There were dark orange flowers that looked like an attempt to match the replacement lining and thread in his coat. To compliment there were soft pink and white flowers sporadically place in the bouquet. You went upstairs to your kitchen and brought down a vase for the flowers. Wanting to show off their beauty, you placed them on the center table of your shop. Here, you regularly cycled items such as tops, socks, mittens, scarves and other small items. You went around the shop and into your storage to find other colors that matched the flowers. On the table the flowers stood tall above the garments, all table colors matching.

The week went by quickly, Alastor's voice and memories both accompanying you while you sewed. You created lots of lace for the dresses Mimzy ordered. Next week you were supposed to stop by and take all of her performers measurements to actually start putting pieces together. Countless hours were also spent pre-beading and cutting fabric so all that had to be done was cutting and sewing to match sizes.

By the time Friday rolled around you were excited to leave the shop and go to Mimzy's. The nervous feeling was no longer there. You had Anne, Mimzy, and now Alastor to keep you company while enjoying the night.

"Y/N dear! Alastor and I were just talking about you!" Mimzy said with enthusiasm.

"Good things I can only hope?"

"Of course! He was just showing me how you fixed his tacky coat. I have been telling for ages he just needs a new one. He has appearances to up keep! It looks better now than when he first bought it."

You didn't know what to do with all the praise but it warmed your hear to know that people recognized your talents and were impressed with them.

"I just did what I saw fit, I do appreciate it!"

"Good evening mon cheri" Alastor said kissing your hand.

You two changed pleasantries about your week as Mimzy went to mingle with more customers. As you finished your conversation about to ask where Mimzy went, Anne stepped on stage about to start singing.

"Would you grace me with a dance?" Alastor asked reaching his hand out towards you.

"Absolutely doll" you said gently placing your hand in his outstretched one. He helped you up and out of your seat where you were previously conversing. As Alastor led you to the dance floor a man bumped into you tearing your grasp from him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir, please ex-"

"I know what you did." He cut you off. "You will suffer just as he did."

You turned as white as a ghost. No no no you migrated to New Orleans to get away from your old life. How did anyone find you?

"My dear! Are you alright?" Alastor asked finding you and reaching for your hand.

"Of course, just had a little scare and lost my footing is all."

Alastor gave you an eyebrow raise but didn't pry anymore.

All things considered the dance was wonderful. You both moved in sync, eyes focused on one another. He loved to spin you around and away from him only to pull you back in close. As the song ended you found yourself in a dip, a mere breath away from Alastor.

Mimzy cleared her throat "Lovely performance from the both of you, incredibly charming."

Alastor used his hand on your lower back to pick you up and steady you on the floor. He noticed you were still shaky and looking around the room from your encounter with the strange man earlier.

"Thank you Mimzy" he answered for the both of you. "We should get heading out soon shouldn't we darling?"

The night was still young but what the man had said to you made you want to leave as soon as possible. Plus, remembering last weeks sleep hangover you agreed. Finishing goodbyes again and talking with Mimzy setting up a time for instead her performers to visit you at your shop, you and Alastor were arm in arm walking out of the door. You turned around and took one last look and there you saw the man drag his thumb across his throat. What you didn't notice was that Alastor saw the man doing the exact same thing.

[just-a-new-gi-writer]

"Creator Reforged" is (chef's kiss) concise and yet Exactly What It Says On The Tin lmao, big brain! Poor Sucrose in Ch7 tho: she must be traumatised too, for lack of better description.

Oh oh! May I send an ask for the Follower Special? How would the acolytes react to a creator who crochets/knits/sews them various clothes and accessories? I feel like Childe would appreciate (and definitely smugly show off) any scarves or coats you make him lmao??? Liyue has nobles and society stuff, so maybe when Ningguang or the other Qixing wear trinkets/shawls that the Creator made, there'd be similar clothes in fashion? Inazuma and Sumeru seem pretty big on textiles (Silk, Cotton, maybe Wool/Fur?) so would they be smug at their textiles being featured in some of the creator's works??

Also, just a last thing: your writing style ABSOLUTELY gives off shounen light novel vibes. It's honestly perfect for Genshin, imo.

Yeah, no one in that situation is really in their best mind at that point. Albedo, Sucrose, and the reader are all likely not thinking straight. (Hopefully going to get back to work on it soon...)

And thank you for the compliment! I'm honestly not all that familiar with shounen light novels, but I hope that the eldritch/weird moments that undergird party of my writing don't distract too hard.

A/N: Getting back on the wagon. ...And I let myself stray to an adjacent yet (in my opinion) equally interesting version of the Creator. Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2.7k

CW: None?

Masterpost

taglist @iyohme

The night in Liyue was young. Though the furthest edge of the sky still wore the faintest remnant of the day’s glory, the rest of the sky glammered with pearlescent stars, crowned with a nearly full moon, and bounded in the north where an azure comet tugged at the sky as it fell.

Far below these celestial sights, the opulent city of Liyue slumbered, nestled between its towering mountains and perched beside the tranquil sea. Uncountable lanterns burned quiet and low, illuminating the streets just enough so the guards could patrol yet low enough to allow the citizens to rest.

Though the thousand hands of the industrious city lay low, not all of the city was asleep. In the city’s main hall, where the highest matters of state and commerce were conducted by words and contracts, through coins and goods, by bribes and threats, different kinds of activity were taking place. Heads of states, merchants, nobles, and the like from nearby Sumeru, Inazuma, Fontaine, and a few from even further afield, met and socialized with each other. They forged and renewed acquaintanceships, sought new avenues of commerce and trade, discussed and reviewed new discoveries and theories.

The event there was in full swing. Chandeliers with ornate carvings in Cor Lapis diffused amber light across the whole room. People clustered around the room, conversations flowing as freely as the drinks. The front of the hall was dominated by a stained glass relief of the Creator, The Forge of Days. Though no light filtered in through the myriad colors, the veiled image of Her figure seemed to glow with its own glorious light.

Gathered at the front of the room were piles of gifts and offerings. In years past, they would have been iron and copper, silver and gold, crystals with shimmering hues and gems with an unfathomably deep color.

But recently, their Creator had undergone a change of hobbies. The hands of The Forge rarely sat idle, but the items She created would change with her interests. For months, Her hammer and tongs sat idle, Her billows quiet, and Her fires cold. She’d found a new craft to occupy Her hands for a while, and the people followed Her whims.

A different bounty had been gathered tonight at her feet: bolts of cloth in all kinds of dyes and textures, spools of thread in every color imaginable, skeins of yarn that seemed to glimmer with gold spun into their material. These, the people hoped, would gather Her attention and affection enough to be worthy of receiving a gift from Her in turn. Though She chafed at formalities and ceremonies, these She would bear to see Her creations given.

Tonight, there was no shortage of people gathered to show off the artifacts that She had personally forged, crafted, or spun and then given so generously. It was hard to miss the heads of state and important nobles- Ningguang was garbed with plenty of jewelry of gold and amber and topaz. Keqing kept at her side, displayed prominently, a sword forged of impossibly sharp steel and inlaid with awe-inspiring arrangements of Inazuman amethyst.

Few were arrayed so brilliantly as them, but one person stood taller and prouder than both. In the middle of a group of weary and exasperated onlookers, a peculiar Snezhnyy man bragged about and paraded off his new gift. Tartaglia was not much loved by the people of Liyue- connections to the Fatui tended to do that- but showing off the new turquoise scarf generously pooled around his shoulders, studded with constellations of pearl stars, strained the patience of most.

“Oh, what’s the matter, Afong?” Tartaglia chided a merchant who finally had enough of him and tried to leave, “Can’t stand the sight of someone who has one of Her new styles? What do you have, just a tarnished, old bracelet? I think She’d be embarrassed to see that old thing in public! It’s probably for the best that She tosses that dull thing back into the furnace and starts over from scratch.”

A small, timid voice came up behind him, “Tartaglia, isn’t that enough?” He spun on his heel to see who spoke up, the half-adeptus Ganyu. She was carrying a tray of food in her arms which clearly had a wide selection. “You’re going too far with what you’re saying.”

“Listen, Цилинь,” Childe plucked one of the morsels from her tray, something skewered on a wooden pick, “talk to me when Her Grace decides to visit you with something noteworthy. I can tell,” he gestured down to the arm he could see, “that She gave you some pity. I remember hearing about that meager ring She made, Her last product before turning her sights to Her new craft.” He eyed the ring set with an aquamarine gem, then slid his gaze to what sat on her wrist. “But I didn’t hear about that.”

A dainty, delicate work of lace lay barely hidden under her sleeve, like a fine layer of ice had been worked around her wrist. While many would merely overlook it, it contained many curious details the likes of which would only be seen with Her handiwork- notably, the centerpiece of it was a recreation of Ganyu’s vision- frame, cryo symbol, even the subtle cracks and chips were represented through Her handiwork.

“The Forge of Days generously gifted it to me.”

“An early work of hers, probably. Most likely, she made it to familiarize herself with the craft, getting the early failures out of her system.”

“Did Her Diligence make a single weapon for you?”

There was a momentary flash of anger on his face- the first anyone had seen that night. It was quickly gone, but Ganyu had turned and left before she could notice. She heard another conversation haltingly spin up as she walked away, before fading into the noises of the party.

Ganyu left the party, following a familiar path of hallways as the sounds behind her began to become muddled and indistinct under the weight of their echoes. She turned a few corners, passing various shrines placed to honor and venerate the Adepti, mostly, but also the other benevolent beings who shared the region with the city and who helped guide its people in the past. Designed to impress and show off Liyue’s splendor like the main hall, there was little expense spared for these collections as well.

She slowed, then came to a stop. She was nearly on the other side of the building from the main hall, and her surroundings looked like it. This space was dominated by a large door formed of wood and metal, something that looked more at home in the industrial sections of the city, not here among the shrines. The walls and floor here were dirty- darkened soot seemed to almost grow on any available surface and the air was thick with the smell of earth and fire.

To a place built to celebrate the divine and the supernatural beasts that crowned this corner of the earth, this seemed wildly out of place. But Ganyu, among other important people in Liyue’s governing bodies, knew the truth of this location.

Ganyu balanced her tray on one hand and reached out to one of the enormous door handles. It took a bit of force, but the doors began gliding open, ethereally and unearthly quiet. She passed through the doors and began descending the stairs below, each one decorated with a different pattern of golden crystals that glowed in a circle around anyone walking down them. To Ganyu, it looked like the steps were being cast from the darkness just steps ahead of her as she descended. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she heard the doors behind her gently close by themselves, a soft but unmistakable noise through the space she just entered.

And what a space it was.

Lit by larger clusters embedded in the walls, not too dissimilar to those on the stairs, the room was a crafter’s dream. Uncountable machines of industry filled the space, of every type and make, most repaired by hand after their user damaged them from overuse or overapplication of force. They were distributed about the room by trade- over there sat the forge, its bellows quiet and the stockpiles of coal, iron, silver, gold, and countless other metals full and ready; there rested every tool one needed to hew art and purpose from any stock of lumber one chose; there rested 

And through the middle of it all, and under the low dais in the center, ran a stream, to quench and cool the products of the forge, to supply the (currently disengaged) mechanisms with power.

And sitting there on that dais, bathed in light from a ring of crystals suspended over Her head, surrounded by an impressive array of tools and stock of materials all at Her fingertips, the Creator moved with impressive speed. Her hands flew from one movement to the next, a blindingly fast dance between Her fingers, the tools, and the dress that She was weaving on the mannequin in front of Her.

Ganyu set the tray down on a nearby table that wasn’t totally overrun with supplies and materials, pushing a few bolts of cloth out of the way. She carefully stepped through a field of bobbins, careful not to upset or step on any. As she approached the Creator, she wondered if She had actually noticed her. “Pardon?” She tried to get Her attention, stretching a hand out to Her shoulder. “Burning Forge–?”

The Forge of Days suddenly snapped out of the way, Her head whirling around to glare at Ganyu, Her eyes burning a brilliant yellow-white from the focus on Her activity. Her glare was uncomforting on the best of days, but when She wielded it like this, Ganyu could almost feel the heat of the forge pouring on, through, and around her. She could feel some of her hair begin to singe.

Ganyu took a step back, covering her face. “M-My apologies! Ningguang only wanted me to check on You!” The heat began to bleed away from her, quickly dropping to a simmering heat. When Ganyu risked a glance, she found Her back at Her craft, continuing to weave like She hadn’t been interrupted. “I wanted to check in on you as well. I know it’s quiet down here, and I know you don’t like crowds–”

Her Industriousness made a noise of frustration as she pulled the last of the yarn taut. She spun in place, planting the hook in the dress, then grabbed a plain knife and walking (at a speed that should have been called running) over to a spinning wheel. She began gathering up Her hair in large handfuls, then cutting them off with quick, clean cuts of the knife.

As quickly as She had turned away from Ganyu, the heat had faded away; only the memory of the warmth remained. Ganyu winced to see Her shear so much of Her hair off so carelessly, but she knew there was a method behind Her actions. As She stopped in front of the spinning wheel, She set the knife aside and began turning the spinning wheel, arcs of magical light started being cast from it as it spun faster and faster. When the arcs began to connect into circles, She fed Her hairs into it one at a time, and began winding the resulting golden thread around an empty bobbin.

Ganyu took the moment to look the dress over now that the Weaver of Fates was away from it. The beautiful garment looked like it was painstakingly constructed- the various materials made it look like it was spun from the condensed light that shimmered over Liyue harbor every morning, the angles and sections of construction chosen to mesh with each other so seamlessly. With how She had woven it all together, it felt like the dress was creating itself, like it was destined to simply be.

Thinking back to the excruciating minutiae of measurements that She had made of her body (after she found the demand from her Creator carved on a slab of iron which was unceremoniously deposited on her working desk…), part of her hoped that it would turn out this beautiful.

As she looked back at the spinning wheel, she caught The Forge feeding the last of her liberated hairs into the wheel and loading the last of the thread onto an overloaded bobbin. She snapped it up in one hand and turned back to the mannequin to continue her work.

It was now or never. Her Industriousness hated being interrupted.

“Your Grace?” Ganyu started speaking before She could set down the bobbin. “I was just thinking about you. I know you don’t like social events, and they’d prepared so much for the party- I thought you’d appreciate me bringing you a sample of what they had.” Ganyu began talking faster as she started threading the needle. “I-I made sure to grab some of your favorites as well, and I wanted to…”

She eventually stopped herself. If Her Unending Warmth wasn’t interested in something, it was basically guaranteed to be a futile struggle to get Her to cooperate. None in all Teyvat could match Her strength and endurance, let alone Her abject stubbornness.

Ganyu turned to leave. “I… I should go. I should see if they need me upstairs again. I’ll–” She barely took a few steps before suddenly being stopped. Turning around, she saw that the Creator had lunged towards her to grab on to her, Her incredibly strong and calloused grip, able to crush stone and deform iron, gently but firmly wrapped around her arm.

She looked up and saw The Forge’s face, one that was so used to its grim and steadfast glare that its current one, creased with worry, almost looked unfamiliar. The light in Her eyes was still bright, but had cooled to an orange glow.

“…Stay.”

The single word croaked from Her throat, gravely and unclear from disuse. It was incredibly rare for Her to speak- it was said that lifetimes could come and go without her making so much as a single utterance.

“–! …Alright, I’ll stay here with you.”

Her Grace let go of her breath and the room seemed to warm. She released Her grip on Ganyu, who slipped off to find two chairs that could easily be decluttered and dragged over to the table.

“…For all the work Your Industriousness does, I’m surprised You don’t do more to keep things tidy down here.” She moved an armful of cloth up onto a table, where it likely would be a hazard later on. “But I’m sure no one complains because they just like it when You make things on time.” She struggled to maneuver herself and the chairs around all the other clutter, but Her Grace managed to move through it with surprising, well, grace.

“There.” Ganyu set the two chairs down and it wasn’t long after She sat that She popped the lid off the tray and grabbed two different treats, offering the smaller one to her. She gave Her a light punch on the shoulder (that likely only hurt herself) then accepted it. After She started biting into the delicacy, Ganyu saw the light in Her eyes had dimmed further into a reddish glow, the natural steel gray beginning to show through near Her pupils.

The Forge labored many long hours to hone Her craft and produce all kinds of goods. Ganyu figured it was best to let Her rest for a while.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Day 13 — Christmas Market

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 700

Contents & Warnings || Fluff — no warnings.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Advent Calendar 2023

The city was draped in a winter blanket as you and Bucky strolled hand in hand through the enchanting pathways of the Christmas market. The aroma of roasted chestnuts, gingerbread, and spiced mulled wine wafted through the air. Wooden, rustic stalls were decorated with festive cheer—colorful ornaments, wreaths, and twinkling fairy lights. Seasonal melodies filled the air, creating a sense of community and celebration. People of all ages reveled in the festivities—culinary delights, shopping, and joyful activities. In this enchanting wonderland, with your lover by your side, a magical adventure awaited.

Bucky couldn't help stealing glances at you; your gloved hand fit perfectly in his as you leaned against his bicep. Your eyes twinkled from the lights that adorned the market and its stalls. The soft hues of the different colored lights cast an eternal radiance across your face, leaving Bucky breathless. He knew this season held a special place in your heart, and your happiness warmed his soul.

“What’s on your mind, doll? Where to first?” he questioned, brushing his lips against your temple.

“How about some hot chocolate first? Then, we can continue exploring. I want to take it all in with you by my side.”

Stopping at the nearest hot chocolate stand, Bucky ordered two steaming cups topped with a dollop of whipped cream. As you sipped the rich, chocolatey goodness, you leisurely strolled through the stalls, immersing yourselves in the holiday magic, savoring the sights, sounds, and scents surrounding you.

"We should get new decorations for our Christmas tree," Bucky suggested, his breath visible in the winter air as he gestured towards a stall selling handcrafted ornaments. The diverse pieces were stunning, each different and with intricate details that showed off the impressive craftsmanship. A figurine of a couple in a romantic embrace caught your eye. It would grace your tree, front and center, displayed proudly.

"This will be perfect for our tree, babe."

Cheesiness aside, Bucky embraced you just like the figurine, resting his forehead against yours. "It'll be the most perfect piece on the tree," he murmured, leaning in and sealing his words with a sweet kiss.

Continuing shopping, you stumbled upon a stall selling handmade scarves and mittens. With excitement, you suggested picking out matching scarves, a small gesture that would keep your hearts and bodies warm. Playfully trying on different colors—greens, reds, and blues—you settled on scarves that complemented each other perfectly.

"This will be so cute," you giggled, swapping the old ones for the new ones. A quick photo of you two with the recent purchase became your lock screen.

The aroma of freshly baked gingerbread cookies drew you to a nearby stall that called your names, and you couldn’t resist the allure, stomachs rumbling in hunger for delicious treats. Purchasing some, you found a cozy nook nestled in the heart of the market. Sitting on a bench, you snuggled close and enjoyed a tranquil moment as you munched on the warm, spiced cookies. The world around you melted away. The chilly air, the twinkling lights, and the cheerful tunes wrapped you in a cocoon of intimacy and magic.

"This is perfect," Bucky whispered, his gaze fixed on you.

You nodded, a fulfilled smile playing on your lips. "It is," you purred, brushing your lips with his. "But with you, babe, it's beyond magical."

As the evening progressed, the market became even more enchanting. The towering Christmas tree in the center of the square twinkled with holiday colors, drawing you both into its mesmerizing glow.

Underneath the branches, Bucky drew you tightly to him, gently cupping your cheeks and gazing into your shimmering eyes. You got lost in your shared intimacy, relishing in your touch and gazes.

"This has been one of my favorite evenings with you, doll."

His declaration made your heart stop and then beat again with intensity. After all these years, you found yourself falling in love all over again with each moment spent with him—his touches, his words.

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, doll. Forever and beyond.”

Your lips met in a tender kiss, a delicate connection that spoke louder than words—time stood still as you shared the sweetness of the kiss, a moment that felt like a scene from a holiday romance movie.

The Christmas market had become a tapestry of shared experiences, laughter, and love—a night etched into your memories as a chapter in your forever love story.

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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[cherr-22]

TNGDH 24

I held up my hand to my forehead and looked up at the sky. The sun shined brightly with not a single cloud in sight.

“The weather is good.”

A wide smile spread across my face as I admired the beautiful, warm Blake estate today.

Pure white bricks laid neatly in rows and stalls lined up on both sides. Behind them were simple shops run by the people.

That’s right. Shops.

I admired the coin purse hanging by my side. It’s heavy. According to Kyle, I would have plenty of money even after saying ‘give me everything from here to there’ right now. 

While I didn’t plan on spending that much, isn’t good to have a lot? Even as Bae Soohyun I couldn’t enjoy such a luxury.

……To be more accurate, I died just before I got the chance to do so.

“Let’s go, porter.”

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and turned to Kyle. He was dressed lighter than usual and was looking down at me with his eyebrow raised at me.

There’s no point in giving me that look. Of course I’d call you a porter. It’s not like you would call this a date. In the first place, you’re the one who wanted to tag along.

I turned around ignoring his stunned reaction and lifted up the heavy coin purse.

No matter what, I’m going to use this all. I won’t die before these are all spent.

This is something I realized after dying once, but money should be spent while it’s in your pocket. I’ll show you what it means to earn like a Northern prince and spend like a hamster. 

“Slowly.”

He grabbed the back of my neck before I could run off.

I frowned and scrutinized him. In my mouth held a piece of jerky I received at the stall selling dried meat.

“…….”

“Whad. Whad ah yoo looing ah.”

What. What are you looking at.

“……Nothing. Keep eating.”

Wow. This is absolutely crazy. How on earth did they make this sauce? Can a taste like this even exist?

Must buy it now.

I bought two packs of jerky. As I took out a shiny gold coin, Kyle held onto my bags.

Nibbling on the jerky, I headed for the next shop. Here they sold a ‘bracelet that can make you healthy just by wearing it!’. That was what was written on a thick piece of paper next to it.

<Shocking news! Beneficial mana energy is flowing out!>

……What is this, a germanium bracelet or something? The color seems similar too…… this is obviously a scam.

On the other hand, Kyle who was standing next to me held the bracelet up with interest.

“Are there any sizes suitable for a hamster?”

As if there would be any.

In the first place, don’t think about buying one. That energy or whatever. Mana stone or whatever. Oh dear, this is giving me a headache.

‘Maybe I should’ve pretended that there are special demonic beasts with rare constitution that don’t develop mana stones.’

I sighed as I dragged him to the next shop. He would’ve put an order down for the hamster bracelet if we stayed there for even a minute longer.

“Let’s see. Where can I buy clothes.”

“The cape is very warm! Thick and light!”

“Scarves, buy scarves here!”

“Delicious demonic beast meat skewers!”

“Buy one get one free bag of peanut crackers!”

The lively atmosphere of the market brightened my mood.

I bought everything that looked good. The shopping bags drooping off of the Grand Duke’s arms- ah, no don’t do that. Hang the bags on your left arm, not your precious right arm.

“Shoes made from the tough leather of a Northern elephant!”

“Have a look at these pants! Even the Blake knights wear these as training uniforms!”

Obviously I can’t hold back on these.

“Here are sweet and sour tangerine candy. Come see handmade candy made by a craftsman with 30 years of experience!”

This, can’t hold back on this either.

“These are crepes. We’re selling for only one more day to commemorate for the festival!”

Definitely can’t hold back.

“This sure is great.”

The money was spent rapidly, and the once heavy coin purse felt lighter and lighter over time. Both of Kyle’s arms were fully occupied with my shopping bags.

“What’s wrong?”

I asked while holding crepes in both hands. Kyle replied calmly.

“You are more easy to satisfy than I thought.”

I’m about to sell out all the shops and yet you call me frugal.

As expected of the Grand Duke of the North, this kind of spending must be nothing compared to what he spends on a single hamster. Would I have to buy the entire shop to surprise you?

“Today, I will treat you. Would you like some of this crepe? There’s raspberry inside.”

I bought one for myself because it looked delicious but suddenly felt bad seeing the porter work hard all day long. Ah, such a kind heart I have.

He stretched out his neck forward slightly.

“I have no open hands to hold it myself.”

“……Ah. You’re right.”

Both hands were filled with bags. My bags. I did bring him as a porter but……

Still, isn’t he the owner of this land and the ruler of the North? He has been following me behind silently, but the eyes of the shop owners would pop out whenever they recognized him.

“There’s no other choice.”

After contemplating a bit, I raised one of my arm to hold the crepe in front of Kyle’s mouth.

He remained still, as if this kind of situation was new to him. What else do you expect me to do. Should I go buy another arm for you somewhere instead?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because it’s unexpected.”

Kyle lowered his head and took a bite out of the crepe. An entire corner disappeared in an instant. ……Was it that tiring to hold the bags?

“It’s my first time to be directly fed like this.”

[First time~ It’s his first time! 〜(￣▽￣〜)(〜￣▽￣)〜]

Stop celebrating.

“It’s not like you’re a demonic beast. Why couldn’t you be fed like this.”

“They find me difficult usually.”

“You wouldn’t be difficult if they interact with you everyday.”

I said as if it were nothing special.

He may be a solemn duke in front of others, but to me, he was just a hamster otaku who kissed me everywhere with no reservation. It would be even weirder if I still found him difficult to be with.

“Have we been seeing each other everyday?”

Oops.

“……Recently we have. We saw each other yesterday and the day before yesterday.”

I kept my arm held up for him to eat the crepe and then turned to my share of the crepe in my other hand. Let’s see. Cranberry whipped cream made from goat milk……

“Too sour!”

Kyle flinched upon hearing my cry.

“……Is this your first time having whipped cream?”

“No, I’ve had them plenty of times. Whipped cream should be fluffy and savory, and yet why does this taste like this? And to add sour cranberries on top of that. It makes it twice as sour!”

Kyle tilted his head in confusion and took another bite out of the crepe.

“Whipped cream usually taste like this.”

Seeing him, I bit into mine again.

Sour as expected.

“No. Crepes are usually supposed to be so sweet that it makes your mouth ticklish to be delicious.”

This guy knows nothing. The cloud-like fluffiness is the charm of whipped cream, and yet he doesn’t believe me.

At 9:30PM, I used to have a piece of fresh cream cake delivered from the cafe near my office. It was always the last order since the shop closed at 10:00PM. Roughly once a month, I would have it on a hard day to melt away my fatigue.

Those were hard times, but thinking about it now felt like old memories.

“Is that so…….”

Kyle held a serious expression.

“If you don’t like it, you should throw it away and eat something else.”

“What are you talking about? How wasteful. Besides, just because it’s sour doesn’t mean I can’t eat it.”

“Alright. Eat a lot.”

He finished the crepe and lightly squeezed my wrist to examine it.

“Small and skinny.”

What bullshit is he saying. I’m slightly bigger than the average Korean. I’ve never been told I was small. Especially with one insole in my shoe, my height reached 180 centimeters tall. A thin insole of course, not the thick one.

“Are you sure it’s not just you being too big?”

He let out a low chuckle.

“Eat lots of meat. Even with me protecting you, your body must be in good condition to go out on the reconnaissance. In the Blake territory, even the support units receive martial arts training, not just the knights and soldiers.

Kyle asked as I finished off my crepe.

“Do you have any weapons you can use?”

“No.”

“Any specialties?”

“……Ummm…… language?”

C language is also a language after all.

### programming language

“Besides that.”

“Eating a lot?”

In the case that I failed to develop the game, the lady who worked at the restaurant I frequented said I should try doing a mukbang.

### Mukbang is a live-stream where viewers watch the host eat

“Haaa…….”

He sighed deeply.

What’s wrong. Do I seem like luggage burden now that you think about it?

But consider yourself lucky. As long as I have the system with me, your future will be bright. It may sound odd, but just believe in me.

“Is there something wrong?”

I asked in a provocative tone.

“Are you already worried that you won’t be able to protect me?”

The nickname ‘Loser of the North’ would probably spread throughout the land if that were the case. It’s not like he gained fame as the ‘Bloody Grand Duke’ by killing innocent people. If he can’t protect even a single civilian, he would have to step down from his position as the lord.

His eyebrows furrowed upon hearing my provocation and laughed as if he were intrigued.

“You sure know how to provoke someone.”

“Thank you for the complement.”

Office workers usually fight well. Fighting with clients, fighting with their boss, fighting with overtime… I won’t lose to anyone anywhere.

“Where should I move this to?”

After busily walking around eating this and that, we ended up at the front of the Blake castle. He glanced at me as if to say that I would have to climb the stairs myself this time. I know, I know. It’s not like I don’t have legs.

I trudged up the stairs as slow as a turtle.

“I’ll be shoving them into an unused storage room.”

“Not the servant’s dorm room?”

“Yes. There are no space left for me. I was only able to go there in the past because Sen was with me.”

“…….”

How would I put all these bags into the break room of the servant’s dorm without putting up with the others’ stares?

I’ve been meeting with Kyle in the break room until now since I didn’t want to meet him in his study. Now that Sen has left, no matter how thick-faced I may be, staying there would be too much.

“I’ll get you a room.”

Kyle said it as if it were nothing. You can give away a room just by saying you’ll give me a room?

“……Huh? Really?”

“You must’ve forgotten, but you are also one of the castle’s people.”

Oh right.

“I request a room with a big window.”

If I’m going to receive one, I should get a good one while I have the chance.

With that, the items I bought from the stores today piled up high in my newly assigned room.

As expected, the world revolves around money.

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T/N: I will not be able to post a chapter for next week so this is an early chapter, plus a bonus chapter 25 as an apology!

[shirefantasies]

Congrats on 300 followers! You’re definitely one of the best blogs and best writers on this site so well deserved! I wanted to ask if I could get a matchup, I have no preference for lotr or The Hobbit and I don’t have a gender preference either. I have short blonde hair, green eyes and I’m leaning on the chubby or curvy side. I love to create anything and everything, drawing, jewelry making, even tried knitting. I love puzzles, riddles and trivia games too. Besides all that I love to have a special cup of tea at the end of everyday.

I hope you recover well from your surgery and have a wonderful day! 🍄

OMG thank you so much for your amazingly kind comments 🥰 I love being here but words like these are definitely a big part of why I stay. Writing is truly a passion of mine so I’m so happy to hear that!

Also sweetheart I had to match you up with…

Bilbo!

This hobbit never expected to find love outside of the Shire…or at all! But fate has its own plans for us all, hence the hobbit choosing to take the adventure of a lifetime. Maybe after all more than one 😏 Gandalf hadn’t just enlisted one player in the big burglary after all. You were well-studied, clever, crafty, many things needed on a journey like Thorin Oakenshield was embarking on. Bilbo wasn’t looking for love, but when you pulled out your knitting needles what else would you expect?

You’re like a figure from a great Shire tale he’d read with that golden hair and those bright green eyes. Hobbits love curves, too, so you know he is blushing around you! His first questions are anything but forward, though, just wondering where you came from and how you know the grey wizard. Cue stories of the man’s fireworks bursting over the lake! You’ve never visited the Shire, but with every word Bilbo speaks your beautiful eyes widen in wonder and you gush that you’d love to see it and before he can help himself he’s blurting out that he could always show you around there after this whole mess is through. He even finds himself getting quite protective of you, snapping at the dwarves if they say anything that remotely upsets you and finding the courage to draw Sting the first time he sees an orc look your way.

Because you both enjoy riddles and puzzles, whenever you have free time or need to decompress on the road the pair of you find yourselves solving any you have and swapping them back and forth. When Bilbo plucks up the courage, he tells you how much of a comfort you are on this journey; he's spent all this time missing home and yet now he feels like he's found a new one. Somehow even being out in the woods is not so terrible! Your jewelry making is fascinating to the hobbit, so expect lots of questions about the process ranging from is it dangerous to what your favorite gemstone is. Perhaps he is secretly fantasizing about purchasing you a piece for you to keep...

The fact that you both love tea! Bilbo one hundred percent commits your special tea to memory, it does not matter how specific the blend is or if you put an odd amount of anything in it. Both of you could make each other’s perfect cup of tea in the dark. If your tastes are quite different, expect some tittering and head-shaking and general teasing, but you will get what you request every single time.

The look of deep concern in your eyes when the hobbit returns, the way you take him by the shoulders and tell him you thought he was lost, well…let’s just say the emotions get the best of you. Before the orcs catch up the dwarves whoop at the kiss you two yank each other into! When he does use the ring, you can sense the panic striking him when he returns and you go right to him, which he appreciates more than anything. One time you even noticed he looked a bit cold, like all the color was drained from him, so you wrapped him up and let him share in the warmth of one of your handmade scarves…and yourself, of course! He often uses the ‘you look cold’ excuse on you so that he can take your hands!

When the journey is up, all you want to do is go to the Shire, the desire burning in your heart stronger than anything, and who is Bilbo to deny what he also wishes? Years can go by and you never fail to make Bilbo’s heart flutter. The way you pull him into your kisses by his suspenders, the illustrations you add to his maps and letters you surprise him with, inspiring him to do the same. Having a wonderful and creative partner means he can have a cozy life at home in Bag End, yet it is still an adventure every day!

Taglist: @mossthebogwitch @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @pirate-lord-of-narnia @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[vladdyissues]

Fair Catch

Sequel to We Have A Problem

A pair of powerful white headlights bored through the November night, illuminating the way for a glossy black Aston Martin to prowl up the mile-long driveway. The house at the end hardly fit the appellation; it was a castle, pennants waving from the towers, the front façade illuminated by a battalion of landscaping spotlights.

The car pulled into a detached garage, and moments later Vlad Masters strolled into his domicile, still decked in Packers green and gold and toting a foam cheesehead under his arm.

“What a game!” he crowed for the hundredth time. He tossed his keys into a bowl on a side table and moved into the kitchen, offloading some of his accoutrements. Merrily humming the Packers fight song, he flounced to the fridge and grabbed a 12-ounce longneck of Wisconsin King. He popped the top with a metallic clink and knocked back a mouthful of premium Grade A milk as if it were beer.

“Thirty-four to thirty one!” He danced a little jig. Mercifully, no one was present to see it. “What a game!”

And it had been. Green Bay facing off against the Vikings at Lambeau Stadium. The teams tied in the fourth quarter, 31 and 31, with just two minutes left, until Ryan Longwell made a 33-yard field goal with just three seconds to spare. Perched in his own private VIP lounge overlooking the field, Vlad Masters erupted like a green and yellow volcano, cheering and howling and throwing popcorn and furniture and any of his staff unfortunate enough to be within arm’s reach. His mania endured on the drive home and would likely keep him wired for the next twelve hours. Now came the almost onanistic ritual of basking in the triumphant postgame afterglow. A fine finish to a fine evening.

Bottle in hand, Vlad sauntered to his foyer and flipped on the lights. There it was, his extensive collection of Packers memorabilia, all neatly organized behind glass in special humidity-controlled display cases. He strode by, gazing upon his possessions with the air of a hedonistic king inspecting his coffers: vintage jerseys, photographs, limited edition cheeseheads and scarves, rare items of sports history that rightly belonged in a museum instead of a selfish billionaire’s private collection. And sitting front and center on a pedestal, the most treasured item in his hoard, his beloved, irreplaceable—

Vlad abruptly choked. Milk sprayed from his mouth and nose.

The football autographed by the legendary Ray Nitschke, his most prized possession, was nowhere to be seen.

The bottle slipped from Vlad’s limp fingers and shattered on the stone floor. Hysteria clutched his heart. His stomach dropped to the bottoms of his ugly green oxfords, now spattered with milk. His mind raced through possibilities with the frantic fervor of a mother discovering one of her children missing.

“Did the maids—? No. No, and I didn’t…” The color drained from his face. “I can’t have been robbed. It’s impossible.”

And it was; no one could get through his security system. He’d built it himself using the most advanced tomographic and photoelectric beam technology, and tested it extensively before deploying it over every inch of his property. He checked it regularly and performed scheduled diagnostics and upgrades to keep it cutting-edge. Even if the power were to go out, a generator array would keep the system running independently for months.

At that moment he finally noticed the canary-yellow sticky note planted in the middle of the display stand’s empty prongs. He darted close and leaned over it with wide eyes.

Dear Fruit Loop,

Don’t worry, your ball is safe. FOR NOW. I’m going to hang onto it until you get someone else to narate Knowing Universe. All of it. I don’t care how you do it, but I don’t want to hear your dumb stupid ugly snotty voice on ANY of my shows ever again, got it? If you ever want to see your prescious ball again, you’ll get on this STAT.

Sincerely,

You know who

Vlad clenched his fists—and his jaw, his toes, every muscle in his quivering body. His eyes flared red, the left one twitching spastically. When he exhaled, twin jets of smoke whooshed from his nostrils.

“Daniellllllll!”

Read on AO3

[twistedwonderlandfantasies]

Firsts with Kalim Al-Asim💛🤍💛

Fem!reader

tags: fluff, dating

First time seeing each other:

You both had previously only caught glimpses of each other in halls during passing period. It was brief, enough take in some of the noticeable features of the boy. His doe eyes, a wonderful smile always upon his face, that disheveled soft look about his white hair. You also had a few classes with Kalim, but didn't talk to each other as you really only were well acquainted with Deuce and Ace at the beginning of your stay in NRC. Besides, he was always with an intimidating Jamil who seemed to stare daggers at anyone who looked at Kalim for more than eight seconds. When you both were finally paired in a class project, you felt your heart flutter with joy. Excited to finally interact with him up close, you quickly went to sit next to him in class to talk. "Y/N. What a unique name! I like it! You must come over to join us for dinner!" "To discuss the project." Jamil interrupts. "Yes, of course, to also discuss the project... I know we will make the best presentation!" His voice was like a happy song. With Kalim you felt so warm, hopeful, giddy. Can I always be with him?

First time developing feelings:

It wasn't surprising that you fell for the housewarden. He was so kind and thoughtful, perfectly radiant like the sun. When he'd call your name you'd practically turn into a puddle. "Y/N! I'm so glad we can study together." "Y/N, you look a bit tired... have you drank enough water today? Did you eat yet? Let me get you something, anything you like." He would come back with an entire vending machines worth of your favorite food and drink. "Please take care of yourself!" "Y/N, I asked Jamil to make your favorite lunch today, please, come sit with us!" When you would stay at Scarabia he would dote on you constantly. "Y/N, do you need extra pillows? Is the room to your liking?" Kalim would give you the biggest room they had— with its own indoor pool. "We have all kinds of breathable clothing imported from back at home. It's great for this sort of weather. Please take whichever piece you like!" He'd show you fine silken dresses, pants, scarves, all with vibrant colors and intricate patterns. He'd knock on your door at night while everyone would be sleeping. "Y/N" you would hear a whisper. "Jamil doesn't know I'm here, so please don't say anything. I thought we could share a midnight snack together." Kalim would bring small cookies and cakes so you could sit and eat together under the peaceful moon. Of course, the housewarden never noticed himself falling for you. It just became second nature to care and protect you. It wasn't until one day that he saw you talking with another student that it struck him. It struck him hard. He tried wrapping his arm around you. You looked so worried— and then it all happened in an instant. "Don't touch her!" All you saw was a flash of Kalim pushing the student aside, an expression upon his face you'd never imagined he could have. He never thought he could act this way, either, until the pang in his chest from seeing you being taken advantage of hit his head and everything clicked. I think I'm in love. Jamil couldn't help but grin from afar observing the situation. "Finally realized."

First time confessing:

Kalim had invited you that evening for dinner. But it felt different. Something about his voice, his words, his interaction just didn't feel like the boy you knew before. "Y/N, I'd like to invite you for dinner tonight. I hope you'll join me." There was an air of mystery, a charm in his eyes and he sounded so calm— a voice as smooth as sand. You slowly nodded, intrigued by this new Kalim. Since the occasion felt special you decided to dress more formally for that day. What better outfit than a wonderfully fitting dress Kalim had given you from the Scalding Sands that featured intricate beadwork and design. When you arrived the scent of sweet incense and aromatic spices hit your nose. You saw an endless sea of dishes put out in front of you, everything from sugared fruits to steaming kebabs. You nearly held your breath from the shock. Every candle was lit, tapestries decorated the room around you, and best of all was Kalim who sat there adorned in an equally beautiful outfit detailed with gold. Even the makeup which outlined his eyes was lined in a deeper, more seductive red. You sheepishly walked over to join him on the cushioned ground. "Kalim- I-" he spoke before you could finish, giving away to the nervous weight that laid on his chest. "This is all for you, Y/N, so please enjoy yourself. We'll eat and dance the night away— whatever you like." He grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. "Let me be with you, like this. I want to share these moments, good and bad, with you. Will you let me?" The smile you had fallen in love with so long ago shaped his lips. The first thing you had ever seen on Kalim, the first thing you ever noticed. "Of course. Always." It nearly felt like tears formed at the corners of your eyes. That night you did everything he said. You ate and drank and danced your fill all the way till sunrise where you finally relented and bid the prince goodnight, retiring to your Scarabian room.

Bonus: Kalim walked you over to his treasure room after finishing a dance, opening the door to show you inside. "Y/N, do you like anything you see? You can have it!" You blinked for a few moments, eyes blinded by the light reflecting off the gold and precious stones. You couldn't help but nervously laugh. I think there's enough riches here to last a few lifetimes. "Kalim... I appreciate the offer, but I think I'm good. If anything, let's leave before I break something!" You grabbed his arm to walk out and shut the door. "What if something is cursed in there?" "We've had Jamil check all the treasure already!"

First date:

Kalim wasn't done wooing you, not by a long shot. He was excited to show you a new side of him. Yes, he was still your innocent prince, but he could be a gentleman, too. You'd think he picked up a thing or two from the King courting so many ladies he saw growing up. But the first date wasn't something you'd expect. You thought maybe another dinner or walk along the park, sure, but he had actually planned something way more fun. What better way to cool off than a pool party for two? He had invited you during the day this time. Now you understand why he asked you to bring a swimsuit. "Oasis maker!" You both splashed and swam around for hours in a giant pool with a slide and fountains surrounding it. Were there also water guns? Absolutely. Water balloons? Yes. "Y/N? Y/N... Y/N!" Kalim frantically looked around, seeing you nowhere in the pool, seemingly disappeared under water. He began to worry before you suddenly grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him down with you. "Got ya!" You two laughed while continuing water tag. It was the most fun you had since arriving to NRC, to say the least. The day ended with your favorite foods for dinner and a warm bath with special salts and oils Kalim had asked to be brought from his home that was good for the skin.

First time holding hands:

It was the end of the day as you two were walking home from class, discussing topics on magic and such when Kalim bumped into you by accident while a student ran past him. The both of your hands brushed against each other from the movement, which elicited a faint blush against his cheeks. He immediately apologized and asked if you were okay, but something else was on your mind. "I'm alright, really. It's okay." You decided to go for it and grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers together. "But I like this better." You smiled at him; Kalim gulped, blood rushing to his head. He'd never held hands with someone— he'd never actually even been romantic until meeting you. You felt him move his fingers a bit, feeling your skin to make sure the girl before him was real. Her skin is so soft. Her hands are so delicate... she's so wonderful, everything about her. You felt him tighten his hold more confidently while you both continued to walk. "You make me so happy, Y/N." Now you were the one blushing. The cute moments between you two were never-ending. From that moment on Kalim would get more comfortable with holding your hand, eventually doing it regularly every time you two walked together, proudly showing off his one-and-only.

First kiss:

You and Kalim were watching the sunset together at his dorm after having finished studying together. Something about seeing the pink skies meet at the horizon with dunes of sand that went on forever was a breathtaking sight. You leaned your head on his shoulder, placing your hand on top of his. It was just you two, a calm silence enveloping you both with the occasional sound of sand being swept by the wind. "Kalim, this view never ceases to amaze me." You felt your eyes close for a moment to try and mentally recreate the landscape so you could remember it forever. "You're right. Back at home, the skies are even clearer and brighter, it's more beautiful believe it or not. If you look from outside the city, you see the palace outline the sky. At night, colored lights and song illuminate the city." As he describes the Scalding Sands you feel more joy fill your heart before he pauses. You look up to see why he stopped, only to realize Kalim is looking back at you. "But none of that compares to you." Kalim's eyes are so tender, his little smile on his face, cheeks a rosy red again. Before you can think the proximity of both of your faces makes you lean in to kiss him. If you didn't think his face could get any redder, think again. While there's practically fumes coming out his ears, he releases for a second to compose himself before going in to kiss you again. Your lips aren't like anything he could have ever imagined before. So soft, sweet. It's nearly addicting to him. Only after you release this time do you realize how flustered he gets again, looking away shyly, looking back again, looking away, apologizing.

First time cuddling:

There was a separate lounge area that was meant for only Kalim. You and him would spend most of your time together there. On a particularly chilly night as you two had stayed up together talking, you decided to get closer to your boyfriend for some warmth. Pillows and blankets surrounded you, but something about leaning against him just felt better. Kalim wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in closer. "If you're cold we can go inside. I can have some tea be prepared." "No, it's alright, really. I like it this way." You snuggled closer. Closer... closer... a little more— now you're right where you want to be. It's warmest like this anyways, laying on top of his chest. You can hear his heart fluttering rapidly at the proximity of you two. He eventually relaxed a bit, leaning his chin on your head to hug you with both arms this time. While you decided to tiredly continue your conversation, before you knew it you had dozed off into sleep. Kalim grabbed a nearby blanket to cover you, while the warmth of your own body had him dozing off before he realized it, too. You both soundly slept together, cuddled up under the wall in a corner where you two stayed until morning. Kalim was the first to wake up, realizing he had slept in his lounge with you, but didn't make a sound to let you continue sleeping on top of him. How could he wake you when you looked so cute? Kalim ran his fingers through your hair, admiring you, fixing the blanket whenever you would move, watching your chest rise and fall with your breath. He didn't care if his back was numb, it was worth it if it meant seeing his princess like this.

First carpet ride:

"If you get scared, just tell me! Hold on, Y/N!" He lifted off the ground slowly before picking up some speed. "We're flying! kalim this is unbelievable!" You looked in awe at the blue skies and puffs of clouds that you both were directly under. Kalim made sure to keep the pace slow and steady for you, but enough to feel the wind glide against your face. You held him tighter, afraid at first, but eventually relaxed to release your arms and raise them high to feel the cool, crisp air. You saw flocks of birds, the rays of sun hitting against the sand below, tiny oasis's, the dorm. It felt ethereal. "Are you ready?" Kalim looked back at you before you quickly held onto him again. "For wha- aaaaahh!" You both suddenly dived nearly reaching the ground before flying back up again even higher. You gasped feeling air fill your lungs, yelling in excitement and fear. He went through clouds this time, doing a few tricks by turning in circles. You'd never experienced thrill like this, it was exfiltrating. When he finally turned to go back to the dorm he went at relaxing pace to let you enjoy the view one last time. "Can we stay up here?" You held your lover close while admiring the endless blue. "We can come up as often as you would like, how about that?" "Thank you." You leaned in to give your boyfriend a kiss.

First time visiting his home:

A merchant approached you, a man who's head was wrapped in a white turban. "My dear, have a look. See, this jewel is one of a kind! How about this vase? I have just the thing! This is a magic lamp." Kalim kindly shook his head, pulling you closer by the hand. "No thank you, sir, really, we don't need it. Sorry!" He hurried along down the bazar. He had disguised himself as a regular civilian; Kalim never really snuck out in the past, if he needed to go somewhere he simply went with Jamil, but since meeting you he wants to save these special moments for only him and his lover. Of course, Jamil didn't know about this as you had sneaked away from him while you travelled to the Scalding Sands for the weekend. You tried taking in all the sights while walking down the packed streets. Stalls were lined up full of foods, fruits, textiles, pottery, jewelry, anything and everything. The smell of spices, hot, dry air and cacophony of noises created a lively environment. People bustled along, street performers sang of old legends, camels stood with crates of good on their backs. You both then walked into a more secluded alleyway beneath the stone walls. "Kali- I mean... what was your name again?" You whispered. Kalim laughed, looking down the road again to decide on where you'd go next. "Never mind that. Come on, let's go to the palace before Jamil hypnotizes me and you and forces us to stay in our rooms for the whole stay!" You and Kalim then hurried along. "Wait till you see the palace! And meet my siblings! We can come back out at night to see the fireworks." All of this was so great, it was a whole new world for you. When you arrived at the palace gates Kalim took off his head scarf so they'd quickly let him in. Naturally he got an ear full from Jamil for leaving, but he was quickly interrupted by the waves of family that poured in to greet Kalim and his partner. You were nervous at first, but the warmth and hospitality of the Asim's made you realize where Kalim got his kindness from. You were immediately welcomed by everyone and spent the night being showered in gifts, with great feasting and celebrating. Once you and your partner were alone again he took the opportunity to lead you to the highest point in the palace, a tower where you could see the whole of the Scalding Sands. The view was more than just breath-taking, It was other-worldly. you looked at Kalim lovingly, wondering how you could ever meet such a perfect person. "I love you." You leaned in to give him a kiss. Kalim pulled you in by the waist before his promised fireworks started, illuminating the night sky.

"Hey, I wonder if that magic lamp was real?" "Let's go find out!"

[erinawritesheadcanons2]

Could you do slenderman hcs for your first date

Slenderman, Trenderman and Splendorman First Date Headcanons

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A/N: Thank you Anon for requestiong this HCS! I'm sorry for the long update, it has been such a hectic day because of college and research. I hope you understand!

Gender: Neutral

Warning: None

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Slenderman

Slenderman is a proper gentleman and doesn't like the type of date that is considered non-classical as he believes that he is a high-value man.

In his human form, I believe Slenderman would reserve a seat for the two of you in fancy restaurants like a five-star "all you can eat" kind of restaurant or an Italian restaurant.

Slenderman would also prepare a bouquet of your favorite flowers or a classic red rose to show how much he loves you but if you do not like flowers, he would give you another gift.

It could be a teddy bear, plushies, beautiful scarves that were actually made by his brother Trenderman, or a bottle of perfume with your favorite scent.

Without the human form, Slenderman would love to bring you to his special library where none of the proxies can go inside unless they had his permission.

Slenderman would prepare you a cup of tea in case you got thirsty but if you prefer tea to coffee. He does not mind making a cup of coffee for you.

As the two of you are reading together, sometimes Slenderman's hands would gently hold your hands even though his hands are boney and cold.

The two of you would review each other books together, this is the type of date that he prefers where te two of you could be just calm together.

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As the new killer that stays with the other experienced killers in an abandoned building are challenging but you were thankful that Slenderman was there in every step. Not only he was a great leader with high intelligence but he was also a perfect gentleman, treating you like royalty and protecting you from the other proxies that are trying to mess up with you.

The two of you and him recently just got together as he proposes to you in the hills surrounded by the trees and flowers underneath the sky of the night where there were shooting stars. Of course, it did not end up just like that because Slenderman decides to make your day better as the two of you become one couple.

He glances around the room and sees you still lying on the other side of the bed with drolls on your mouth and snores, not even looking elegant at all but despite that his cold dead heart is fluttering like a swarm of butterflies. He remembers that he wanted to surprise you before he goes up from his bed and walks up to his computer.

Even though he's thousands of years old and an immortal creature, he knows how to use electronics before he books one of the five-star restaurants for the date later, he even goes as far as calling the owner of the restaurant to book the seating arrangement and preparing the suit that he would wear later.

Unknownbeast to the tall faceless creature, you were awake once you hear him whispering to the phone. Even though he was only whispering, he was quite loud and you were able to make out some of the words that he said before a little smile slip up against your lips, hearing the word of 'Date', 'For the two of us', and the words of 'For me and my boyfriend/girlfriend'.

As Slenderman closes the phone down, the faceless creature takes a deep sigh and mutters 'This first date better be worth it' but once again he was quite loud and you accidentally hear it. It was really sweet for slenderman to try making the first date perfect for you even though it is fine for you to just have a simple date.

Seeing this, you couldn't help but open both of your eyes and push yourself away from the soft mattress. Pulling both of your arms to the sky before hearing a satisfying pop sound from the bones and standing up from the bed.

"Darling, are we going to get our first-time date?" You ask him.

"Oh, did you hear all of that?" Slenderman glances down at you.

"Yeah, your whisper is actually kind of loud so I can make out some of the words," you told him.

"I apologize, sweetheart. That was supposed to be a surprise for you but I think I was being too obvious," Slenderman couldn't help but feel slightly guilty that he destroyed his own plan.

"Haha, that's alright sweetheart. You don't need to feel down, I appreciate your effort. You are still able to surprise me later but before that. Let's go out together and tell everyone the mission," you held one of his long arms, pulling him closer and hugging the faceless man with a smile on your face as you couldn't wait to go out with him later.

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Trenderman

If Slenderman going to be a classic gentleman, your first date with Trenderman is LUXURY. Trenderman does not care about his spending even though it was expensive since all of his money is from stealing from the human world and from his fashion designs.

Put your seatbelt on because he is not only going to bring you to the fancy restaurant like Slenderman did but to fancy France Restaurants.

As he spent his money on expensive gifts for you such as perfume, designer suits or dresses, wristwatches, or jewelry like gold necklaces and silver rings.

Bringing you to small shops that sell expensive chocolates to fulfill your sweet tooth and even spend on an expensive chocolate box for you.

Letting you have as much as chocolate you have and not letting you have the 'supermarket' type of chocolates since he feels like those qualities of chocolate are worse than branded chocolates.

But Trenderman is also going as dramatic as bringing you to watch a fashion show and watching models wearing expensive gowns and suits walking on the catwalk. Of course, he would be in his human form.

Surprisingly many designers know who he is and would greet him as he introduces you to those designers. Gucci Designers? Versace? Balmain? Hermes? Dior? They know who is he.

Trenderman is also going to bring you to the place of winery and you could taste the best wines from there as he surprisingly got some wines for you too.

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Staring at the person in the wooden frame mirror, the yesterday event of Trenderman asking you on a date were surprising you and made you nervous a little bit even though you felt happy mostly since you are going out with your crush. You have been crushing on the glasses faceless creature for a long time and you thought he would never recognize someone like you.

But that is a huge mistake and assumption for you as his nonexistent eyes laid on yours, he knew you were the perfect match for him but he didn't have the gut to tell you until yesterday was the right time to ask you out after he was drawing some suit/dress designs for you before he hands it to you and admitting that he has a feeling towards you.

Even though the reflection of the mirror clearly shows your complexion, it did not feel like it was you at all. Trenderman who was going to check on you teleported behind you and gasped, seeing your clothes but what makes him peeved of is not because of your messy looks but the fact that you weren't wearing his designed clothes for you for the date.

"(Y/N) (L/N)! Why are you not wearing the clothes that I made for you!" Even though he does not have eyes, you could tell he is glaring at you.

"Oh, Trenderman! I'm sorry it's just I'm scared to make it dirty when we are going out together," you explained your reason.

"Don't be silly just try the clothes I made for you!: He crosses both of his arms.

"Alright, I will try just don't be mad," You hurried away.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

It was a little bit windy outside and Trenderman's hands wrapped around the knob of the door before pulling it and stepping aside to let you get inside the building. The smell of expensive perfume and new buildings overwhelms the whole room and a pair of (E/C) eye colors could not help but stare at everything in awe.

The floor was made out of dark granites and the wall had white and golden wallpaper with a chandelier made out of an expensive diamond. There are many people in the hall and some of them had cameras on their necks, turning around you could see Trenderman in his human form with his own designed clothes.

His hands reached out to yours, waiting for you to grab it "You'll see the amazing show of my interest and I hope you would also be interested in this kind of show, darling," Trenderman winked with the edge of his lips curved upwards.

You were a little bit nervous about this invitation, especially joining the luxurious world of rich people since you're just a commoner like the rest of the killers and not living like rich people would but his smile wrote a warmth, promise, and comfort. Without thinking twice, you grab a hold of his hands and follow him from the side, choosing to join this kind of fun together with your boyfriend Trenderman.

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Splendorman

If Slenderman is a proper gentleman with a classic date and Trenderman is a Luxury date. Splendorman is going to be a fun date if you are going out with him.

Your first date together with Splendorman is bringing you to the amusement park where you can enjoy some attractions and games together with him.

Although he won't join the rollercoaster or some rides because he is either afraid or his size too big for someone on his size even though he is in his human form.

Splendorman is definitely going to try winning some gifts from the game booths for you, especially winning some plushies for you even though he's not as good as his brothers.

Splendorman also going to spoil you a lot by buying or stealing some food for you from the hotdog, popcorn, ice cream, cotton candy, slushie, and other food stands if you are hungry.

Splendorman also going to try to make you laugh with his little surprises or stupid but funny jokes. Sometimes he suddenly pulls a magic trick just to get your attention away.

Definitely protective of you and not letting anyone get too close to you but he won't scare them until he notices you need it such as creeps or thugs and he will show his monster form.

Splendorman is trying to give you the best day or the best date of your life by making you having lots of adventures, rides, meeting some characters, food stands and some adorable pictures of you two together.

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It was around two pm in the afternoon and you could not wait any longer to have your first date together with your boyfriend Splendorman, one of Slenderman's brothers. He always made your day bright unlike the rest of the killers in the mansion who mostly just ignore you or treat you horribly.

You were wearing a simple (F/C) t-shirt along with a pair of navy jeans and a jacket in case it gets colder at night plus a backpack filled with some necessities to survive. Yesterday, your boyfriend told you the plan for the first date, and even though it wasn't a surprise like the others. It still makes you happy none of the less knowing that you would go to an Amusement Park.

After putting the brush down from combing your tangled hair, a light buzz could be heard and your body immediately reacted on its own. It was Splendorman, with his bright and happy smile, he offered his skilly and pale hands at you "Are you ready, (Y/N)? Cuz I'm ready to have fun with you!"

Without thinking twice, you placed your hands on top of his cold hands, accepting that you are going to go together with your boyfriend together and his hand gently wrapped around your smaller hands before the sound of buzzing could be heard and the two of you are gone.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

Sounds of children laughing and people chattering overwhelmed the whole place and there were many people who seemed to be happy while all of them having family time together or a simple hang out with their friends and partners. Your eyes were lit by all of the colors along with the rides and the food stands that were standing there.

"Are you excited?" Splendorman asks.

"Yeah! Oh, Splendorman. Thank you so much for bringing me to the place!" you turn around to see Spendorman already using his human form.

He was wearing a colorful suit with the silly hat that he always wears along with the walking stick in his hand. Despite looking that silly and people would mistake him as a mascot, it made you love him even harder. "Where are you going to go?" You ask your boyfriend, cannot wait to try all of the rides.

"Up to you, sweetie-pie!"

"Rollercoaster?"

"I-i don't think I will be ready for that, sorry sweetie-pie."

"Alright, what about the sightseeing trains. We will all of the rides from above and have a mini tour."

"That sounds lovely, let's go to the sightseeing trains then," Splendorman walks next to you.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

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[bengiyo]

Ossan's Love Returns Ep 1 Stray Thoughts

Well, I've finally arrived. I recently apologized to this show for letting others convince me it wasn't good. I also watched the Airport AU, and I actually really loved it. I watched the movie last night and love that the aspects of Haruta and Kurosawa I loved from the airport season made it into this timeline. I just watched the special, and am glad that after six years Maki and Haruta can begin their honeymoon phase. Haruta is still a slob, but Maki has laid down some ground rules.

I'm so happy to see this cast is still together.

We of course begin on an unhinged note. Welcome back, Ossan's Love.

Oh, Haruta, you are always going to be a mess.

I'm excited about the chief retiring. That's a good thing to borrow from the AU because I am curious to see what his life is like without work dominating it.

Was that product placement with Kurosawa? That was very Thai BL.

Yes, Japanese BL knows we need the domestic moments to believe in a couple.

Oh boy, they gave Haruta the most dour subordinate.

Was that Maro speaking Chinese?

Haruta is still a slob, but I like that we see him at least trying to cook. He's gotta get better about dishes and trash though.

Chizu is a mom now! With whom??

They were bound to run into issues over house chores because Maki being expected to clean up after Haruta forever was not going to work. Hiring a house cleaner is also not unreasonable considering the hours they both work.

I wonder why Kurosawa chose this week after retiring, but I'm also glad it's still ON SIGHT for him and Maki. You just know he's gonna do a good job to stick around.

What is the deal with Izumi?

They are always covering poor Haruta in fluids and other powders.

This dinner he prepared for them looks good.

Poor Kurosawa. Haruta trusts him so much, so of course he's going to try to give useful advice and perspective, even if he's rooting against Maki.

Haruta, do not put things on the chief. He fell in love because of a shoe. Earmuffs will send this man into orbit.

Harutaaaaaaaaaaan!!!

Maki has mentioned Haruta drinking a lot this episode. I wonder if this is going to be one of the issues of the season.

I must resist reading too much into the color of the scarves.

Okay, the use of their names was cute.

What the fuck was that?? What is Mr. Bonito Flakes doing with Izumi??

Absolutely fantastic to recognize that this series has come back in one way or another for over seven years now. What a time to be a BL fan. I'm really looking forward to Haruta and Maki building a family together. In the movie Haruta mentioned wanting kids, so these two have quite a ways to go.

[rhosmeinir]

Fictober 2023 #10

Prompt #10 - "It's alright, I'm here now."

Fanfiction: Good Omens

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Pairing: Ineffable Husbands/Aziracrow

Other Notes: In which Crowley is cold. 728 words!

It was winter in London, and that meant freezing sleet, howling winds, and inadequate radiators in any building not constructed in the current millennium (and a fair few of those, too). For Aziraphale, it also meant the delight of bundling up in various jumpers, scarves, hats, mittens, and heavy coats when he needed to venture outdoors, and curling up next to the fire in the rooms above the bookshop at night in a deep cozy chair, with a book and a cup of chocolate or spiced hot cider. It meant merriment and joy, and a heightening of all the sensations that made corporeal life so fascinating. Aziraphale, nose and cheeks pink with cold, whistled to himself as he strolled the final few blocks back to Whickber street, and the silver sleigh-bells he had installed in place of the usual brass instrument sang cheerfully as he entered the bookshop. 

“Crowley!” he called, wanting to show his demon what he had procured: Aziraphale’s favorite chocolatier had been having a special, so of course he’d gone to take advantage, and found that the gentleman was also doing a package that included whisky pairings. Ah yes I know just who will enjoy that, he had remarked, then blushed when the chocolatier winked. But there was no response, and the angel tilted his head slightly, listening. There was not a sound to be heard in the slight chill of the bookshop, but he could feel that Crowley was there. Shedding his outdoor layers onto the coatrack by his desk, Aziraphale made his way upstairs.

As he approached the bedroom, he could see a light under the door, and feel a change in temperature. His lips pursed in slight concern. Crowley always did feel the cold so deeply, what with the leanness of his corporation, and his serpent-like tendencies. He must be bundled up next to the fire, Aziraphale assumed. There were times when the demon simply could not get warm, in fact sometimes it was so severe that he would—

Aziraphale opened the door, and at once cried,

“Oh, Crowley!” 

Beneath the duvet, quilt, and sheets, and indeed beneath two throw blankets which had been thrown haphazardly on top of the bed, lay a large, shivering lump. At once Aziraphale deposited his parcels on top of the chest of drawers, and made haste to remove his outer layers. Divested of jumper, shirt, socks, shoes, and trousers, the angel crossed to the bed and threw back the covers. Beneath them, coiled up tightly on himself so that his scarlet underbelly was scarcely visible, was the large black snake that was Crowley, yellow eyes staring up at Aziraphale plaintively.

“It’s alright, dear,” Aziraphale soothed as he climbed into the bed, Crowley’s coils rustling to make room for him, “I’m here now.” Though he had come through the door with a chilled face, Aziraphale was naturally a warm being, and beneath the many layers beneath which Crowley had burrowed, instantly began to radiate heat. Crowley uncoiled himself as Aziraphale shifted into position, then began to re-wind himself: this time, around his angel’s body and limbs, spreading every inch of his scaly underbelly against Aziraphale’s skin.

“I’m here now,” Aziraphale murmured again, wrapping his arms across his own torso to embrace the thick coils that curled about his chest and arms, one hand coming to rest on the back of the snake’s head as it slid around his neck. Crowley squeezed his whole body slightly, and Aziraphale sighed, squeezing back to every part of his demon he could reach. Fortunately for Aziraphale, he had long since miracled the bed so that he wouldn’t sweat when it got too warm, merely able to enjoy the pleasant heat. It did, however, have the tendency to make him extremely sleepy, and it was hardly any time at all before he drifted off.

When Aziraphale awoke, the room was much darker: the fire had burned down significantly, and the light from a streetlamp drifted in through the window, illuminating the snowflakes that had begun to fall outside. But between the still-smoldering fire and the two beings in the room, it was still toasty-warm. At some point, Crowley had resumed his human form, and now lay, limbs-entangled, with Aziraphale. The angel smiled.

“Better, my dear?”

“Ngk,” Crowley replied from within the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, where his lips formed a grateful kiss.

[aina-otsuki]

Nico Di Angelo Headcanons!

Some of these are probably really weird. But just like go with the flow if it doesn’t make sense.

Headcanon #1 - Nico can draw really well. Just one look at it can make anyone feel as if they're actually there. He uses it as a coping mechanism since Tartarus. Will saw one of them once and was absolutely terrified. He wondered what it must have felt like actually being there like Nico had alone.

Headcanon #2 - Has nice and fancy handwriting. I mean Nico literally had an Ambassador for a grandfather. Nico is also really polite and cannot call any adult by their first name out of habit. But this is only because he respects them and if he feels really REALLY comfortable around them then he’ll call them by their first name. 

Headcanon #3 - When Nico was remodeling the Hades Cabin he probably asked for one of the Hecate campers to cast a spell on the cabin so it’s bigger on the inside. So there are a lot of rooms in the Hades Cabin. One of the rooms is a giant library with tons of books that Annabeth asks to read some of them. Nico also has some of Sally’s books in the library. Her books are some of his personal favorites.

Headcanon #4 - The Hades cabin (a.k.a. Nico) always has something special planned for Halloween. Nico plans out all the festivities he thinks would be cool or something he did as a kid. Camp Jupiter comes over for that week too. Whenever it’s Hallow's eve every camper comes out to the campfire. Nico then comes in with some spooky entrance and starts giving warnings to add effect to the story. Also for campers who might not be able to handle it. Mr. D and Chiron are always there to  supervise and Mr. D loves seeing some of the campers get scared. Like Nico uses his powers whenever he’s storytelling and chooses an unsuspecting camper for a certain scare. No one in both camps can deny that Nico is the best story teller for the occasion. Even the toughest Mars/Ares kids are scared.

Headcanon #5 - Nico probably has one of Bianca’s scarves from when they were kids and it was too big for them. Now it’s the perfect fit, the scarf is also jade green since Bianca loved the color. He mainly wears it when he’s in need of some comfort. Or when it’s really cold in the winter.

Headcanon #6 - Nico has a typewriter in his cabin. He also may write little short stories based on how he’s feeling. Since Italy is like the country of music. He also has a room that has a closet of cases filled with an instrument. He uses music to calm himself down like his mom used to do when he was a kid. Nico may have a diary but it looks like a normal book so, no one suspects a thing. He might have a pride flag (Will or Jason probably gave him) in his room.

Headcanon #7 - The Hades cabin has a huge Ball Room. Nico likes to go there when he feels like dancing. Hazel had come into the Hades cabin and was surprised by the amount of remodeling he did. Their cabin is a literal small castle because of the amount of rooms. He may have modeled Hazel’s side of the cabin or room now and when he showed her she started to tear up because it reminded her of the good things she had at home in New Orleans. 

Headcanon #8 - Nico has a record player or some speakers in his room. I don’t think anything else has to be said…

Headcanon #9- Nico thought it would be cool to have a recording studio so he makes covers of songs both old and modern. Of course he sometimes translates it to Italian at times and Hazel recorded him once on YouTube (or something else Idk point is she puts it on the internet) and it got tons of views so now he’s just a famous cover artist. One time he decided to write a song for Will and sang it for him on his birthday. Nico’s voice also has some vocals (If you know what I mean) when he sings. Like he can change his voice to sound like a girl or very deep and sound older. He can hit high notes and very low notes. Also because Nico’s slowly getting his memories I think he would remember lullabies his mom sang to him and sing them to new young campers who are like 7 or 10 years old when they have a nightmare or demigod dream. 

Headcanon #10 - He’s probably going to be the one filling in for Percy as the role model. So, newcomers are going to be scared of him at first but after a while they're confident enough to talk to him and they realize Nico’s actually a really fun or great person to be around. So now young campers are just going up to him telling him about their day. Or telling him about how they improved because of the advice he gave them. The campers might even be coming up to him just to compliment him on something he did a few days ago or in the past. Then Will’s just like “When did this happen?”. At first when campers started doing this Nico was freaking out but he got used to it after a few weeks or months. 

Headcanon #11 - Nico can cook and bake tons of stuff. So when he tried cooking for Hazel she just started smiling so much because of how much she loved it. Nico probably made a birthday cake for her at some point and everyone there to celebrate just ran up to him and started asking for his recipe. He probably remembers his mom’s cooking and just starts doing what he remembers her doing. (You know, like memorizing her actions and trying to do the same. Or um muscle memory. That’s how some people learned to cook. Looking at someone else cooking and then getting the ingredients and cooking.)

Headcanon #12 - When Nico is old enough to drink, he buys some wine. Once he tries it he realizes that it’s absolutely sh*t. So he just tells Will who’s with him that it sucks and starts ranting about what could have been done to make it better. 

Headcanon #13 - Nico has fairy lights in his room and he never turns on the normal lights because it ruins the effect the lights give his room. He refuses no matter how many times someone asks him too. He also has a hidden secret entrance into his room and he puts an underground system into every cabin. He put one in Hazel’s too just in case of emergencies. The underground system leads all over camp and outside into New York City. No one but He and Hazel know about this. He probably told Will about it and Will maybe asked him to put one in his cabin too. Then Hazel probably put the underground system in the Pluto cabin too.

Headcanon #14 - There’s a club for all the queer campers at Camp and I think Nico would be in the club. There isn’t much room in the cabins for all the members so, when Nico joins he offers to host it and everyone in the club is just in awe of how big and amazing the Hades Cabin is on the inside. He also lets any camper part of the club into the Hades cabin just in case they want some space or are outed during the school year. Nico probably tells the club about Cupid (Euros or whatever the mfs name is spelled) outing him and tells any of the younger campers in the club he understands how it feels. 

Headcanon #15 - I think he’s autistic. I also think he probably inherited this trait from Maria. This could be used in so many fanfics. I’ll write one if I have to…

Headcanon #16 - Nico learned how to sew because Hazel had ripped one of her favorite hoodies. So he put a little design when he sewed the hoodie back together. One day Hazel put it one when she was meeting Percabeth, Caleo, Jason and Piper (I forgot how to spell Jason and Piper’s ship name 🥲) with Frank. They all asked who did the design and when she said Nico did it. All of them were shocked they stood still for like a few seconds. Word spread around quickly about Nico’s sewing skills in Camp. Now whenever someone has ripped clothing they just go to Nico Di Angelo.

[misteria247]

Some more random silliness from the Muppets concept (Welcome Home) au yahoo-

After the vase incident Barnaby doesn't let you live it down. You're constantly bombarded with little jokes about your strength and smashing the poor vase into pieces. It embarrasses you each time because it really was an accident. Other than teasing you with the violent yet embarrassing first meeting, Barnaby also tells you jokes and puns, often times earning a laugh or a groan from you. But all in all you enjoy being around him.

You figure out quickly that Julie is a ray of sunshine, but she's also extremely chaotic. There was one time when you'd come home from work only to find her sitting on top of your fridge. Just cuz she'd come up with a new game involving climbing said fridge. Took you awhile to get her down but you had fun doing it. Even if you had to replace a few things that had gotten broken in her more erratic moments. (You made sure to keep bowling balls hidden from her afterwards).

Eddie likes to go get your mail and just sit down and chat with you. Since he can't exactly be a mailman anymore he's taken to telling you about all of his deliveries he's done in the past. You always find them incredibly interesting and are always asking him questions much to his delight. You'd even began to give him your letters you're planning to send out so he can take them to your mailbox. Often times joining him on the walk to just enjoy the morning air with him.

Sally has officially overtaken your spare room as the new theater room. She'll often be found in there practicing for her shows or writing a new play. She'll drag you into some of these sessions, asking for your thoughts and even including you in some of her plays. You always have a blast. And the costumes she gets her hands on are always a delight to try on and parade in them.

You and Frank surprisingly take a bit of time to get used to one another. Mainly because Frank is still lingering in the aftermath of their last home and what had become of their last caretaker. He's a bit distant with you however eventually he comes around like the others and talks to you about his bugs. Especially his love for butterflies to which you enjoy immensely. Seeing Frank light up about them makes you incredibly happy, knowing that he's warming up to you now.

You come to learn that Poppy is a bit of a worrier and it doesn't take long for her to start mother henning you as well as her beloved friends. She'll make delicious food and treats, help keep the house tidy and clean and has even made you a few hats, scarves and sweaters. You wear them all with pride and in return you try to help her out wherever you can. From chores to helping cooking dinner it becomes a special bonding time between the two of you.

Howdy keeps trying to persuade you into starting an online shop once he'd learned about the internet. It's an ongoing discussion between the two of you, mainly cuz you have no idea what he'd even sell. But eventually you do give him the reigns to get an online shop going and he becomes successful in no time at all. You learn not to question his unique abilities in selling things. Howdy just seems to have the magic touch and charming charisma that many salesmen wish they had. You also purchased a few things from Howdy's little shop much to his giddy glee.

After finding a few doodles here and there in your home, you'd come to realize that they were made by Wally. The smallest puppet was an artist and always seemed to be fiddling with pens or pencils he found around the house and draws on any scraps of paper he could get his hands on. He doesn't ask you for it, but you get him his own little art kit, with paints included. Let's just say he clung to your leg in happiness for a good half hour before gifting you a painting he'd made sometime later. It currently hangs on your wall.

[chickensoupleg]

Mm. Girls.

--

At first it was just a light curiosity.

Heather had been lounging on the couch and scrolling through channels when Chrissy came home, a bag of yarn in her arms.

“Where’d you get that from?” Heather asked her with an amused smile at Chrissy’s clear excitement. She pressed a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek as Chrissy flops beside her, barely bouncing the couch.

“I passed by a yard sale and there was this bin full of just- Yarn? And the lady said it used to be her late grandmother’s collection. She passed away, the poor woman, but nobody else in the family really knows how to crochet, which is what this is for,” Chrissy pulls out a maroon pouch, which she unzips to show Heather the neat row of hooks and needles, “And so they were just gonna sell it. And, well, I don’t know either but then I saw they were also selling some hats and scarves and this whole sweater that this grandma had made and then I thought about how cute it would be to make you one-” Chrissy continued to ramble on and on, Heather listening to her with a small smile on her lips. She would support her little craving, and even if Chrissy just couldn’t figure it out, Heather wouldn’t stop her from trying anyways.

Since then, Chrissy had been learning the craft of crochet. She had borrowed a book from the library and spent a good afternoon just learning the absolutely basics such as chaining the yarn and getting a few single crochet stitches into it.

Oh, the absolute light that radiated from her face when she showed Heather that first single strip was enough to melt her heart.

“It’s looking great, firefly.” Heather told her, Chrissy beaming even more and getting back into it.

It didn’t take long before Chrissy pumped out her first project, a simple red scarf. There was nothing particularly special about it, but by the way Chrissy had presented it to her on that October evening it was as if she was gifting Heather her heart.

In a way she was. Heather had accepted it, and refused to take it off the whole day, even though she never actually left the house. She even wore it in the bed, Chrissy cackling like mad when she threw the scarf’s end over her shoulder in bed, smacking her in the face.

It didn’t take long before Chrissy spent all of her free time just creating new items for her and her friends. She made scarves for everyone they knew, and even a few hats. She learnt new stitches, and by the time December hit, everyone had a matching set of hats, scarves, mittens, and even a single wool sweater crop top thing.

Chrissy made that last one as a jest, but Steve seemed fine with having zero stomach protection. Heather thinks he’s weird for that.

Heather was more impressed she managed to figure out how to make a sweater – partway as it was – in such a short amount of time.

“I have all the time in the world to try,” Chrissy told her as she carefully stacked her new supply of yarn in the box that she designated the yarn box. That was another thing with her new hobby, the new skeins of yarn that Chrissy would come home with. Yarn was pretty expensive, and yet Chrissy always managed to find them for much cheaper at thrift shops or yard sales.

Once she even came home with sweaters just to unravel them for their yarn. Heather helped of course, not wanting Chrissy to just be suffering on her own.

Heather did end up with a nice blanket as thanks for helping, so it wasn’t all that bad.

In February, their neighbour Robin had come with an idea for Chrissy. Maybe that was their downfall.

“You’re pretty good at this. Maybe you should start a shop?” She said. They were just hanging out, Robin wearing the neon red bucket hat Chrissy had made for her. The rim of it was decorated with small stars that Robin had clipped on herself, her fingers messing with one of them.

“Oh, but I’m not sure. I mean, there’s so many people who could do it better!”

“So? You’re great too, Cunningham! Besides, it would be nice side income.”

Heather snorted. “What, like what Harrington does?”

“Everyone likes his chocolate.”

“Steve stress bakes, Buckley. You just made him sell his stress for cold hard cash.”

“Hey, not my fault his kids stress him out to the point of chocolate-induced income. Steve’s agreed to it, it’s fine! Otherwise I will get diabetes, Heather. Diabetes! Do you want be to have totally avoidable diabetes?”

Heather snorted again, louder. Robin smacks her in the arm for that, and the only reason she doesn’t smack her back is because Chrissy did it for her.

“Hey, no hitting my girlfriend.”

“Wh- Oh but you can?!”

“Girlfriend protection rights.” Chrissy chirped, chest puffed out.

Heather was a bit proud of her for that one.

Robin rolled her eyes, continuing on. “Well, think about it. I can get you set up. Maybe Steve can sell some next to all his chocolate, as a test run?”

Chrissy had thought about it for a good 24 hours before she relented. She gave Robin a few extra hats she had made purely out of boredom, plus a few kid sized mittens that she churned out. It was just a test run, and if it failed it failed, no harm done.

Except it didn’t.

Robin had come back from the market with a pile of cash, slapping it eagerly in Chrissy’s surprised hand.

“I told you! People totally loved your stuff!” Robin burst out. “Sold every single one of them, so here’s your earnings! Promise, I didn’t try to steal any of it, this is all yours.” She patted Chrissy’s hand a few more times before running off like a headless chicken back to her house.

Heather had congratulated her for it, even though Chrissy was never physically there for the sales.

It still sparked a fire in Chrissy, as the next thing Heather knows, Chrissy is holding a box out full of items and dragging her to Steve’s car to head to the market.

It became a sort of passion project at that point, Chrissy always making whatever she could imagine. Extended past just clothing to household items, and even plushies when Chrissy got her little mitts on a book about crocheting toys.

Oh, the amount of toys Heather had come across in the house when Chrissy found out, it was insane.

Still, Chrissy was happy, and Heather was by her side, rubbing and massaging her hands.

“Oh, you’re an angel, Heather.” Chrissy breathes out a sigh of relief.

“I’m just massaging your hands. You gotta take breaks, you know. Buck won’t mind if you skip a week or two.”

“I know, but it’s just- I love crocheting, making things for people. I feel bad if I have nothing to at least look at.”

“I know, babe. But don’t break your hands doing it.”

“I won’t.”

“You better not, or else I’ll eat them so you can’t use them no more.”

“Noooo…” Chrissy devolves into giggles as Heather kisses her hands with a frantic love.

Chrissy loved her hobby, but she loved her girlfriend more.