#cee writes

[loki-cees-all]

Ch. 1 - Against the Wall {Against All Odds - TVA!Loki x Female Reader Longfic}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : The first interrogation of X-5 doesn’t go as planned, and Loki needs to blow off some steam. He returns to 1977 for a drink, and discovers that not only have his actions have left you abandoned by your date to his movie premiere -  but it’s also your birthday. 

Thankfully, Loki knows just how to solve both of your problems. 

W/c : 4.4k words

Content Warnings : Smut, p-in-v, semi-public sex, strangers to lovers, ruffled tuxedo appreciation

Author's Note : This one is dedicated to my beloved and beautiful friend @infinitystoner as part of our Glorious Birthday Bash. Our ask boxes are open, so get those questions in!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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Loki was absolutely seething. The Hunter X-5 - Brad, or whatever he wanted to be called, was not just uncooperative in answering their questions about General Dox’s plans - he was a complete asshole about it. And even though they knew he would be, it was still impressive just how quickly he managed to rattle all three of them and completely derail the interrogation. 

It was enough to make Loki afraid that he was losing his touch, that his edges had softened too much. But after the catastrophic events he’d endured over the past few months, what else could he expect?

After leaving the interrogation room with Mobius and B-15, Loki had stormed away, his eyes blazing with fury and his fists clenching until his knuckles were white. He just needed a moment to calm himself down, to regain control of his emotions. 

Truthfully, what he needed was a break, to relieve some tension and come back to his problems with a clear head. If only everything would just stop trying to implode for five minutes, he might be able to do that. But the weight of everything he needed to fix was slowly crushing him to death instead. 

And that asshole thought it necessary to throw the death of Frigga in his face and call him a villain - all in the same breath. The audacity, the nerve of that man to speak to him like that - when genuinely, truthfully and in every sense of the word, Loki was only trying to fix, not harm. 

Loki pushed himself further down the endless corridors of the TVA, and the anger radiating through his skin alerted the unassuming TVA employees to continue minding their own business as they slinked past him. Loki’s heavy footsteps echoed off the pristine floors and elegant walls, and he foolishly thought that maybe they’d take the hint and turn around to take a different path towards their destination. But just as soon as he would find himself alone in the hallway, another one would appear, and Loki’s rage would elevate just a little bit more. 

Norns, was there nowhere to even think in this place?!

Soon, Loki found himself in another alcove with another elevator, that inevitably led to another floor with even more corridors and TVA employees who were just trying to do their jobs in the face of a Temporal Loom meltdown and total destruction. It wasn’t their fault; it was the only thing they knew how to do. 

There had to be an exit around here somewhere - a courtyard, or a sidewalk, or something - any place Loki could go and not be reminded of all of this. But how long would it take him to find it? 

Too long. And more likely than not, a new crisis would emerge before he could even reach it. 

As he paced back and forth across the granite floor, Loki’s hands alternated between raking through his hair, clenching at his sides, and resting on his hips. His mind raced uncontrollably, and his chest heaved to keep enough oxygen mixing with the blood flowing through his veins. He was starting to feel trapped, doomed, cursed. 

Loki took a deep breath to steady himself, and as he closed his eyes, his thoughts shifted to the beautiful woman he’d seen earlier that evening. Her stylish dress, pale amber and loosely cinched around her waist, had been far too enchanting to be wasted on a date to a silly movie premiere. She was much too good to be on Brad’s arm for the evening, and Loki wondered if he had even bothered to learn her name…

But ultimately, it didn’t matter. Loki didn’t have the time or the space to clear his head, and he certainly didn’t have the time to waste on thoughts of a woman he’d never see again. He was just going to have to carry on, to power through the stress and brain fog and dread, like he’d always done. 

Resigning himself to return from where he came, Loki shoved his hands in the pockets of his pea coat and turned on his heels to head back to Mobius and B-15 and the interrogation of Brad. But he stopped as his fingers brushed against something, and his brow furrowed as he pulled the TemPad out of his pocket. 

Loki couldn’t remember how or when it got there. He turned it over in his hands carefully, running his fingertips across its smooth edges and polished wood grain as he considered his options. 

With this, he could easily find a place to think, and he could return just moments after he left the interrogation room. And with the branches of the Sacred Timeline already diverging wildly out of control, no one would ever know he had left.

Loki quickly glanced over his shoulders to make sure he was alone, and he flipped the top screen of the TemPad open. The previous coordinates were still typed in, still active.

All he had to do was press a single button and walk through the Time Door. In another moment or two, he could return to the Zaniac premiere and finally have the drink he so desperately needed. 

And maybe Brad’s date would be willing to share that drink with him…

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Date : June 18th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

This was not how you thought your birthday would turn out. 

Dressed to the nines, after hours in the salon chair getting your hair done and days of planning your outfit down to the perfume kissing the insides of your wrists - all so you could be abandoned by that jackass before the showing of his film even started. 

What made it worse was you didn’t even want to be here tonight, with this Brad Wolfe - a man no one had ever heard of before six months ago but was suddenly basking in the spotlight of directors clamoring to hire him and starlets begging to be seen with him. 

You could have been out with your friends celebrating your birthday, but your agent had insisted that this would be much better for your career; he was definitely going to be getting a very unpleasant phone call in the morning. 

After Brad disappeared, you sat yourself at the bar and ordered a drink; it was less humiliating than the press seeing you alone inside the theater, which would have surely been the only headline in tomorrow morning’s paper. 

You briefly thought about calling your friends to meet up at The Roxy, which had been the initial plan for the evening, but ultimately decided against it. Nothing could salvage the evening now; maybe you’d have better luck next year. 

The ice from your second drink had all but melted, and after the leftover contents were consumed, you were ready to get out of there. The exciting climax of the movie would be happening soon, and once again the lobby would be swarming with press and London’s finest celebrities, not to mention Brad - who had probably found another woman to have clinging to his arm during the film. You didn’t need to see that. 

As you thanked the bartender with a warm smile and placed a generous tip in his jar, your thoughts returned to the two men Brad had been talking to just before he disappeared. One of the men, the older gentleman, seemed pleased as punch to be there, but the other one - the tall, dark and devastatingly handsome one - seemed like he’d rather be literally anywhere else; it was exactly how you felt about this ridiculous event. 

And God was that scowl on his face sexy; but then again, everything about him was positively delicious. His piercing green eyes had threatened to set the room ablaze as he looked around the room, and when he wasn’t scowling, he was smirking. 

It was a very confident smirk, and he deserved to have it. He certainly knew how to wear a tuxedo, and you were sure he looked even better underneath it. 

Just thinking about it was enough to make your heart race, and the warmth of arousal was beginning to unfurl itself in your core. It was too bad the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen had left already; perhaps you would head to The Roxy after all, to find someone to take you home tonight…

“Leaving so soon?” 

Your breath faltered as you turned to see him standing next to you. He looked exquisite - casually leaned against the bar, one ankle crossed over the other, and one hand in his pocket as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that he had appeared so suddenly and he was looking right at you. 

“I suppose that depends on whether something exciting is about to happen here,” you replied with a shrug and met his inquisitive expression with one of your own. 

The man chuckled and cleared his throat as he turned his attention to the rows of liquor displayed behind the bar. “And I suppose you wouldn’t think helping me decide on a drink would be very exciting…”

His voice was smooth as silk - polished and refined, and it made everything he wasn’t saying so much more intense. You could see his eyes in the mirror behind the bar, hungrily roaming up and down your form as he paused, and you knew he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do tonight. 

And when he turned back to look at you, it was like you were the only other person in existence, like you were the only thing that mattered. “…or would you find that exciting?” 

That look was sinful, intoxicating, teasing. It made you forget all about wanting to get out of there before the movie ended. It made you want to do anything to keep his attention, and so you sat back down on the barstool and crossed your legs as you leaned closer to him. 

“Surely a classy man such as yourself knows what he likes to drink?” you replied, hoping he enjoyed being teased as much as he enjoyed teasing. 

The man laughed again and shook his head with a charming smile on his perfectly-crafted face. If you didn’t know any better, you would have believed a God had sculpted his features with a careful and delicate hand, that only something majestic could have styled the dark curls on his head. He was perfect, and you were dying for him to ruin you. 

“Well, I’ll be honest - I just wanted to know what you were drinking, so I could invite you to have another with me.” 

He didn’t wait for a response, and immediately unbuttoned the jacket of his tuxedo as he sat down next to you. His long legs were splayed wide as he gazed at you, and he had the kind of thighs you wanted to sink your teeth in. 

The white shirt underneath the jacket was stark white and perfectly pressed, save the ruffles running vertically from his throat to his waist. There weren’t too many men that could pull off that look with the same confidence and charm, and you found yourself wondering who he was and what he did for a living. 

He had to work in the entertainment industry - fashion, maybe? Another actor? You wanted to know everything about him, from where he grew up to how many different ways he could make your toes curl. 

“What a clever, classy pick-up line. I’m truly impressed,” you murmured playfully as you beckoned the bartender over. 

The man narrowed his eyes, and his perfect lips curved into a teasing smirk. “I believe it worked, did it not?” 

You shrugged innocently, bringing your fingertips to fondle the necklace dangling around your neck. His gaze followed your fingers with a hungry expression, and he opened his mouth to say something else when the bartender interrupted to take your order.

“Yes, me and my new friend…” you paused and tilted your head at him, a silent plea for the man to finally introduce himself. 

His expression shifted briefly to uncertainty, as if he wasn’t sure that he wanted to give you his name at all, before resuming his confident demeanor as he met your gaze once more. “Loki. Pleased to meet you.”

“A pair of Slow Screws for me and my new friend, Loki,” you smiled at the bartender before returning to your new companion for the evening. “That’s quite an interesting name, Loki. Scandinavian?” 

“Something like that. And you’ve got quite an interesting drink order,” he replied, leaning closer and sliding his arm along the back of your chair. “Tell me - do you usually share Slow Screws with complete strangers?”

His voice was low and husky, vibrating at all the right frequencies and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. It took all of your willpower to not mount him on the spot. 

“Only when it’s my birthday, and I’ve been abandoned by my jerk of a date,” you answered, though truthfully you were glad he disappeared if it meant you got to know this man a little better. 

Loki’s brow twitched and he looked away; it was an odd reaction, one you hadn’t anticipated. Did Loki know something about why Brad had left, and was he not expecting you to bring it up? 

The bartender returned with your drinks, and you were grateful for something else to focus on for the moment. Freshly-squeezed orange juice and gin swirled around the tall glass as you brought it to your lips and took a not-so dainty sip. 

Loki glanced over and smiled as he followed suit, then set his glass down and began tapping the bar-top with his long and surely skilled fingers. “You know I, um…was speaking with your date earlier, and I promise he didn’t ditch you. Something very important had come up, and…”

Loki glanced over at you again, his green eyes sparkling as if a thousand distant worlds were burning up inside them. He had an unparalleled mysterious aura around him, like the weight of the entire world was resting on his broad shoulders. 

“If he sent you here to keep me company in his stead…” you interrupted, brushing your fingers across the back of his hand as he tapped mindlessly on the bar-top. “…then I’m glad he left.” 

That seemed to be enough to make him forget about all of his earlier troubles, and a confident smile graced his features once more. “Well, I couldn’t leave a beautiful woman all alone on her birthday, now could I?” 

Loki rotated his hand underneath yours, and his fingertips lightly traced along your inner wrist, sending your heart rate skyrocketing. He leaned closer to whisper against your ear. “So how does the birthday girl want to celebrate then, hmm?” 

Your breath hitched, and it felt like the rest of the world stopped except for the two of you. You wanted to spend your evening dissolving into pleasure, screaming his name, breaking your bed - but this man clearly loved innuendos and teasing; it was foreplay for him, just as much as it was for you. 

“Well, I’ve always wanted to try…a Slow Comfortable Screw Against The Wall,” you answered softly, knowing he would understand that you didn’t necessarily mean the drink. 

Loki’s arm slipped around your chair once more, dragging his knuckles down the back of your arm. “Is that how you like it?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart thudded painfully in your chest. But it was worth it if it meant he’d do it, so you nodded as you bit your lower lip. 

“Slow…and comfortable?” Loki continued, whispering softly and letting his lips brush against the cartilage of your ear. 

Swallowing back a moan was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Your thighs pressed together, squeezing them against your already wet cunt and nodded again. 

“What about against the wall? Do you like that too?” Loki brought his other hand up, tracing the angle of your jaw with his fingertips and turning your face closer to his. 

Your lips parted as your nose brushed against his, and you silently pleaded for mercy. Your pussy was already throbbing and clenching around nothing, and if you didn’t get out of here soon, you were going to explode. 

A simple yes was all you could manage, and Loki immediately took action. He pulled a few bills from his pocket and tossed them on the bar as he stood up, and you absolutely could not believe your luck - that he came back, that he wanted you, that he was going to take you exactly the way you wanted. 

You quickly followed him to standing, and your knees almost buckled underneath the weight of the adrenaline and hormones carving their way through your veins. Loki placed his hand on your lower back and guided you swiftly through the crowd that had returned after the movie’s end. 

And you didn’t even turn your head as you passed by reporters milling about in the lobby, wondering where the hell Brad Wolfe was. 

As you stepped outside, Loki’s hand slipped from your waist to grab your hand and pull you after him. You thought he was going to lead you to a cab, but instead, he turned down the alleyway beside the theater. 

“Wait - where are we going?” you giggled in anticipation as he squeezed your hand. Did he have his own vehicle parked somewhere back here?

Loki turned around and yanked you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist as he continued backing down the alleyway. “I’m giving the Birthday Girl what she asked for. Remember?” he murmured against your lips as his hands splayed wide on your hips. 

You couldn’t take the wait any longer and crushed your lips against his. Loki’s groan was deep and powerful as he eagerly returned the kiss. His lips tasted like gin and lust, and his hands gripped you tightly, pulling you all the way against his body. 

Your hands found the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, pulling on the material as you parted your lips around his. He eagerly slipped his tongue between them as he started to walk you backwards.

Loki towered over you, even with your heels on, and soon his lips were moving down to your neck, sucking on the delicate skin as his hands slid down to squeeze your ass. You gasped, and immediately started to unbutton his tuxedo jacket. 

He hummed an approval against your neck, and his hands grasped your ass harder, making you grind your hips against his. “I thought the Birthday Girl wanted it slow and comfortable, hmm?” 

“Changed my mind,” you whispered breathlessly, opening the jacket and untucking his shirt from his pants. “I need you now…” 

Loki grinned as he pushed you against the wall, trapping you between the firm, cold bricks and his firm, warm body. “Ah, so you’re an impatient Birthday Girl,” he growled against your lips.

This new tone, so wild and animalistic compared to the opulent and sophisticated one he had used back at the bar, was more than enough to make you forget that you were in public, that he was a stranger, that if anyone saw this then your career would be over. But you were being driven by pure lust at this point, and nothing else mattered anymore. 

Your lips met again, moving frantically against each other as your tongues and hips writhed together. It was incredible that your bodies and minds were already so in sync with each other - when you moaned against his lips, he’d groan against yours, and when you gasped, he’d exhale in a deep hum that threatened to drive you insane. 

He pulled the strap of your dress down as you untied the knot of his bowtie and began to loosen the buttons of his shirt. Loki kissed his way down your neck and you arched into his touch, even as your hair snagged on the bricks behind you. 

You quickly slipped your arm out of the strap, and Loki slid the top of your dress down to your waist, exposing your breasts. Your nipples hardened from arousal and the cold evening air, and Loki leaned down to take one between his lips. You moaned out loud in response, encouraging him to keep going as you spread your legs to grind against his thigh. 

His tongue flicked against your stiff nipple as he sucked, and your fingers curled tightly in his hair as you hooked a leg around his waist. Your hips gyrated wildly against him, soothing your aching clit as you chased a release. 

“Oh, yes. Keep going, love,” Loki groaned against your skin and shifted his hands to keep you balanced on one leg, gripping your hips tightly as he brought his face back up to yours. 

He pushed his leg further between yours, watching eagerly as you continued grinding against his thigh. You gasped and moaned breathlessly, each one louder than the last as the alleyway faded away and all that remained was the stranger bringing you ethereal levels of pleasure. 

“Yes, that’s it. Come for me, dear,” Loki rasped as he brought his lips over to your ear, and his teeth nipped at the cartilage as he spoke. “I’ll give you more - as many as you wish…” 

You could barely hear him as blood pumped frantically through every vein and every nerve ending prepared to fire off, but it seemed as though he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. What a blessing this was - it was your birthday, and this man only wanted to make you come. 

You gasped as your orgasm washed over you, sending endorphins and molten lava through your veins. Your fingers dug into his neck and shoulders, and your leg shook and wobbled as you died and reborn anew. 

Loki moaned with you as you came, his hands grabbing your hips to keep them rolling against his thigh. Your eyes rolled back into your head and unintelligible whimpers of pleasure tumbled from your lips. And just as the orgasm started to fade, his hands slipped around the back of your thighs to lift you up. 

Somehow you managed to lock your arms around his neck as he held you in the air, and he hooked his forearms underneath your knees as your bare back scraped against the brick. It hurt so good, and you buried your face in his hair, breathing in his scent and savoring the way he was going to ravage you. 

Loki grabbed your ass as he rolled his hips against yours, both of you moaning in unison at the skin-to-skin contact. His heavy exhales washed over your skin as he panted against your jaw, and you were still trembling from the aftershocks of the first orgasm when his cock slid inside you. 

He groaned in pleasure as he pushed deeper within your soaked cunt, and your toes curled inside your shoes. You hadn’t even seen his cock yet, but you could feel just how perfect it was, how perfect he was - and you couldn’t help but squeeze as he bottomed out inside you. 

“Such a tight and lovely little thing,” Loki hissed as he started to thrust, slowly at first but quickly increasing his pace. His hips rocked back and forth, and your fingers scratched at his scalp to beg him to keep going. 

He held you in the air, easily supporting your entire weight as he drove himself into you over and over. It was like magic, he was like a benevolent God of Pleasure, and you would forever worship the ground he walked on as long as he continued doing this to you. 

You buried your face against his shoulder to muffle your cries of pleasure as he filled you up, and his lower back arched as his thrusts became frantic. You moaned his name and he moaned yours, and his fingers gripped you tightly as yours dug into his neck. 

“Yes! Come for me, darling!” Loki growled against your ear as he adjusted your hips, pulling them away from the wall. His thrusts became urgent, and this new angle allowed him to move deeper, pressing against the most sensitive flesh that other men could only dream of reaching. 

You crossed the threshold again, coming even harder than you did the first time. Loki grunted like an animal as he made his final pushes inside you before following you off the edge. Your thighs shook as his hips bucked, and your muscles squeezed every ounce of pleasure out of him. 

The sounds he made were sinful, and it was almost enough to keep you going. Neither of you were on Earth anymore; floating in the cosmos, higher than you’d ever been before, your hips writhing and mouths gasping for air as you came together. 

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, but eventually your bodies became still, and you could feel his lips pressed lazily against your jaw and his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “You have no idea…just how much…I needed that…” he murmured breathlessly. 

You could feel the gravity of his words bringing you back down to the ground, and while you didn’t know what he was referring to, you wished that you could. “I’m glad you convinced me to stay for that drink then…” 

Loki chuckled to himself as he pressed his forehead against yours and carefully pulled the strap of your dress back to your shoulder. His fingertips were delicate as they traced along your collarbone, and as his eyes traveled up to meet your gaze, you could see a thousand lifetimes of sadness hiding behind them. 

“Thank you…for the drink, and the birthday present. Maybe we can do this again for your birthday…” you continued with a smile, hoping to be able to see him again soon. You didn’t know if he needed the reassurance, but you wanted to give it to him anyway. 

He didn’t respond at first, and you gently caressed his cheek. This evening was too magical to not let it happen again, and you prayed that he felt the same. 

Loki’s expression was one of anguish as he turned his head to kiss your palm. He let out a heavy exhale, and forced himself to look at you again. 

“Yes. Maybe we can…” Loki smiled as he gazed into your eyes, and your heart ached as he leaned down to kiss you once more. 

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Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

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[rosewaterandivy]

Part 3. hopelessly hopeful

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: no use of y/n - reader goes by Trouble instead, depictions of heartbreak/grief, cursing, pop-punk slander by one Eddie Munson, Thanksgiving mention, protective!robin, scheming!nancy, sad girl hours continue

A/N: Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance. Here’s 3.7K of multi-perspective tension, sexual and otherwise; feedback and reblogs are appreciated, enjoy!

series masterlist | playlist

previous || next

Then - Fall term, Thanksgiving break

There’s only so many days you can sulk in bed. Wrapped in a blanket swaddle of your own creation, it’s almost impressive; everything you could possibly need is within reach – snacks, drinks, and entertainment options. 

“You alright?”

It’s cold.

Winter has well and truly arrived in Hawkins, frost dusting the windowpanes and an ever-present chill in the air. Brief winter winds hit the town, snow flurries dusting the streets but never enough to stick. Still too early in the season for that.

You bundle up all over - two pairs of woolen socks, a sweatshirt stolen from god knows who, and too-long sweatpants snatched from Steve or Eddie, a quilt gracing your shoulders like a cape. Your friends try not to chide your melancholy overmuch, but the stubborn part of you still misses him.

Miss his eyes. His hands. The steadying effect of his voice.

Barely a month out and you’re already slipping. Eddie took it upon himself to delete your ex’s number, socials, and whatever other vestiges of your past life he could find from your phone. Some nights you’re thankful for his pre-emptive measures, most nights you’re not.

You spend most of your weekend mornings sleeping in as late as your body would allow because any moment awake was another moment that your mind will wander back to him. You feel ripped asunder, oscillating between accepting the fact that your engagement and relationship is over, and then letting yourself grow frustrated for allowing yourself to fall into this trap in the first place.

You wish you had never said yes to him last December. Never gone to that party back in college, never given him your number, never kissed him, never made love to him. You still ache to think of him, and you can only blame yourself.

Under a heavy spare quilt (Steve’s, naturally), you shiver. Due to the cold or your heartbreak, who's to say?

Eddie heaves a sigh and joins you on the couch. “Okay, sad girl,” he says, curling you to his side. He’s gentle handling you, warm hands tucking the blanket around your prone body with light touches. You’ve been lying immobile on the couch for the better part of the morning, long enough to make it through Bladerunner: 2049 without falling asleep.

They’re all understandably concerned.

You cry at the drop of a hat now, it seems. You throw things in frustration and have a quicker temper. You stare viciously at the black hole of your phone screen. You adamantly refuse to look at yourself mirrors. You sleep fitfully at night, tossing and turning against the sofa in the loft. Only admitting defeat when Steve pads in and sleepily leads you to his room with slurred murmurs of “Jus’ take my bed, honey. S’fine.” 

You hate that you sleep best curled alongside someone else. 

And Eddie’s all the more concerned because he’s been keeping an eye on your Spotify activity. Too many emo playlists from high school for comfort. He’d nearly staged an intervention when he walked past your classroom yesterday and heard something off of From Under the Cork Tree. Luckily Steve was able to talk him off the ledge.

“Look, I know you don’t approve,” he said pulling Eddie into his classroom by the back of his shirt, “But I know that when she listens to this song–”

“The fact that you know it is cause for concern, Harrington.”

“Uh, it’s more concerning that you know this song, Munson.” He huffs and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. ”Regardless,” he pats Eddie’s shoulder, “She’s trying to move on and that’s a good thing, trust me.”

And sure, he’d give Steve the benefit of the doubt. But he still has half a mind to scrub your Spotify data and start from scratch. For now, he settles for sitting with you as the opening credits roll for the first film in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, extended edition, of course.

Nancy did it on purpose, but she’d never admit it. 

Just booked the AirBnB she’d been eyeing after you’d mentioned, casually, that your parents would be in California with extended family for the holiday. You’d bailed to avoid any uncomfortable questions. 

Friendsgiving it was then. Nancy and Jonathan would join the rest of you the day after Thanksgiving for a belated celebration. Until then, you had the cabin to yourselves. 

A little cabin by tucked away in a forest, earth damp from the mist and air fresh with the scent of petrichor. The car slows to a stop and Eddie cuts the engine. Robin bounds out of the front seat, all flailing legs and arms, desperate to claim the best bed for herself.

You roll your head to release the tension in your neck and elbow open the backdoor to step out of the car. Steve jerks himself awake aided by the thunk of the trunk being slammed shut and Eddie’s whistling. You allow yourself a soft laugh watching as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, glasses forgotten in the mess of his hair.

Blinking blearily, he exited the vehicle to help Eddie load the groceries and luggage inside. Trying to outdo each other with how many bags they could carry with the least amount of trips. With a roll of your eyes, you follow them into the cabin taking care to wipe your shoes on the mat by the door.

Unfortunately, you were greeted by an unavoidable fact. Apparently, there weren’t enough beds. Four to be exact, two singles and two queens. Eddie and Robin had already taken the singles, while Nancy had specifically requested the room at the back of the cabin. Which only left the queen bed in the upstairs loft or the couch.

Quite the predicament.

You tell yourself that it’s only for a few days, then you’ll be back to Hawkins before you know it. Back to reality and the countdown to winter break. You just needed a little reprieve, a few hours drive from your small town and running into students at the grocery store. Some time and space to clear your head and get over this thing.

Taking a deep breath to settle yourself, and it’ll be fine. It’s just Steve. The guy you’ve known since you were in diapers, no reason to worry. He knows everything about you there is to know. Well, nearly everything. 

A sharp inhalation of air as you trudge up the steps to deposit your duffle bag on the bed. That’s it then, you and Steve would take the loft and suffer through a few days of close quarters.

Not like you hadn’t done it before.

You’d been through worse; the camping trip of 2015 comes to mind.

“Huh,” he says after shutting the front door, shoots you a grin from the first-floor landing. “I’ll just crash on the couch,” he declares, “Give you some space.”

“No, don’t do that.” 

“S’fine,” he insists, “I’m sure it’s comfortable enough.” He tosses his bag onto the sofa cushions, a plume of dust bursting from the fabric, motes lazily drifting through the receding evening sun. “Shit,” he coughs, hand waving the dust out of the air, “Maybe not.”

Your laughter is soft, quiet as if it’s just for him to hear. A shake of your head as you descend the stairs. “Not gonna happen Harrington,” and it’s a promise. 

You lean in slowly, hand warm against his arm as you slip the backpack over your shoulder and turn to go back upstairs. Your free hand links fingers with his to tug him along. He follows you willingly, like he always has.

“I don’t like it,” Robin whispers to Eddie after dinner, arms soaked to the elbow with soapy water while she washes the dishes and passes them off for drying. He hums, taking a plate from her before wiping it down with a dish towel. “This forced proximity thing is not going to work out the way Wheeler thinks it will.”

“C’mon Buckley, would it kill you to be an optimist here? Harrington’s your best friend, after all.”

“Exactly,” she nods, “Which is how I know that this whole thing,” she gestures wildly around, soap suds flying, “Is going to implode. And we’ll be left to pick up the pieces.”

Eddie shoves his tongue to his cheek in an effort not to refute Robin, even though he vehemently disagrees with her assessment of the situation. If he had to come down on someone’s side, it would be yours, without a doubt. Sure, you were sulky and sad but that was to be expected - you were mourning for fuck’s sake.

Though you were crashing at the loft until the end of the year, just until you could secure a short-term lease somewhere, when he got up for work in the mornings you were not on the sofa where he’d left you those nights before. In fact, the only thing that did remain was the quilt you’d salvaged from Steve’s bedroom.

And speaking of Steve, his door was unusually cracked open, a sliver of morning light flooding across the hallway. Soft rises and falls of conversation sound out from his room, echoes amplified in the corridor. Your bright laughter quickly shushed by Steve, the sound of rustling sheets.

Eddie smiles at the memory, setting the plate in the drying rack by the sink and turning to Robin. “I think it’s sweet,” he admits, “And I think they both need something to hold on to right now.” He leans back against the cramped kitchen’s counter, elbows bent and fingers wrapped under the edge. A shrug of acknowledgment, “Just so happens they’re holding on to each other.”

Robin sighs, knowing that he’s right. She subconsciously mimics Eddie’s posture, fingers gripping the edge of sink and eyes falling to the dishwater as she faces the basin. “I just–” she breathes, eyes flitting up to him, wary. “I’m afraid he’ll get hurt… hurt, again.”

She shakes her head and pulls the plug of the drain, water groaning its way down the old pipes. Keeps her voice low, whispering, “Eddie you’ve been there, he’s in this endless cycle with her.” She grabs the towel from him to dry her hands, “Just over and over again while she’s completely oblivious to it.”

He nods in sympathy, hand coming to her shoulder and giving a squeeze. “Rob, I get where you’re coming from. Really, I do.” He tongues his cheek once more, searching for the right words. “And as much as we care,” he gestures between them, “At the end of the day it’s still their choice.” He pulls her in for a hug, chin resting against her head.

Robin allows herself to lean on him, groaning as her head knocks against his chest. “They’re just such idiots Eds.”

She can feel the vibration of laughter from his chest, “They sure as shit are, Buckley.” He draws back, looks her in the eye, “Luckily for them, they’ve got us looking out for ‘em, hmm?”

“Yeah,” she grouses, with no real heat behind it, “Lucky.”

Steve has to all but drag you to bed, thanks in no part to the cans of hard kombucha Eddie kept sliding your way. “You’re such a punk,” you pout, completely limp in his arms as he schleps you upstairs, “Was havin’ a good time, don’t wanna sleep.”

“Right,” he grunts, dragging you up the final step into the loft, “I’m the bad guy because I stopped you from crushing cans against your skull.”

“Yeah,” Robin joins in, phone in hand as she documents what she calls ‘clown chronicles’ and Steve has half a mind to be offended at his inclusion; he may be slow on the draw but you are an actual fool, hand to god. “Why you gotta ruin my blackmail material Harrington?”

You hurumph in displeasure, purposefully wiggling to make his life even more difficult. He drops you on the wooden planks in retaliation. “Rude,” you scowl petulantly, struggling to get your arms and legs working again.

“Well, if you’re gonna be a brat about it…” Steve trails off, distracted by searching your luggage for pajamas. He makes his way through socks and pants, a shirt you swear you didn’t steal from him in college, “What the hell—“

A bark of laughter, as if you just remembered something, “Would you believe,” you can’t stop yourself from laughing, “I packed three coats and no pjs!”

Steve halts his search, annoyed. Drops the articles of clothing unceremoniously in the duffle bag. Turns to you, hands on his hips and disapproving, “You’re a walking disaster.”

In that time, you’d wedged yourself between the top of the second floor landing and the dresser, slumped against the wall and were, yup, about to tumble down the stairs. He grabs you around the middle, hefting you over his shoulder and praying you wouldn’t upchuck at the sudden movement. 

You giggle and squeal, legs kicking against his back and chest as he plops you down on the bed. He begins to peel the sweater from your torso as you bat his hands away with a lazy smile, “If you wanted in my pants Stevie, all you had to do was ask.”

Steve sputters at your innuendo, choking and coughing over his own spit like an absolute imbecile. Mutters, “Fuck you so much,” under his breath once he can think again.

“Atta girl!” Eddie shouts from the landing by the stairs, “Make him work for it, Trouble.”

“Not helping dumbass,” Steve calls out, hand scrubbing down his face tiredly. 

Eddie and Robin say their goodnights and make themselves scarce. Flopped back on the bed, he watches your breathing even out with the rise and fall of your chest. How did you fall asleep so quickly? 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve says, fingers snapping to wake you back up, “C’mon, gotta shower and get ready for bed.”

“No,” you whine, eyes screwed shut, “S’comfy and I’m tired.”

It’s hard to convince himself to rally and get you up again. Sprawled like a star-fish across the bed because you’re, yeah, an asshole who takes up the entire bed. His gaze is fond as you rustle against the sheets, breathes out a sigh of relief. 

He sits at the foot of the bed, knocks against your leg, “Hey, wake up.” A slow shake from your head that’s currently smushed into a pillow. “Mmm, that’s too bad,” he sighs, “Guess I’ll just go ahead and prepare a bath for myself then.”

Earlier, he’d noticed the upstairs bathroom had a nice clawfoot tub. And you are, if nothing, a slut for a good soak in the bath. It was the only way your family could convince you to go camping and backpacking in the summers, by dangling a stay at a hot spring or spa for the trip home.

Steve stands back up to really sell the idea, and wanders into the bathroom. Bless the AirBnB host because the sink and tub are well-stocked with every kind of toiletry you could want. Glass jars filled with various bath bombs ranging in color and scent, shower gels from Le Labo, and skincare from some brand called La Mer.

He turns the hot water faucet as far as it’ll go, because you like a bath “hotter than hell and twice as steamy.” Runs his fingers under the water, gauging the temperature and turning the cold water tap as he hears your footfalls against the tile. 

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he says, winding an arm around your waist. Rolls a sleeve up to his elbow and plugs the drain deeming the temperature sufficient. 

Pulled against Steve’s side, you rub at your eyes and survey your surroundings. And, true to his word, it’s a fucking nice tub. Technically, it’s a tub/shower combo with an extendable shower head, a tasteful shower curtain pushed to one side of the basin. He nudges you to pick a bath bomb and tosses it in, colors melting into the water as it fills the tub.

“Not so bad, yeah?” 

Setting you back against the sink as you nod, Steve opens his dopp kit and grabs a toothbrush. You’re quiet as you watch him squeeze some toothpaste on the bristles and brush his teeth, his eyes meet yours in the mirror and he winks.

Easy laughter as he turns back to you, jaw holding the toothbrush in place while he helps you pull off your sweater and tosses it into the bedroom. Stumbling briefly, your palm lands against his chest where you can feel the warm beat of his heart. His brow raises, are you good?

A shake of your head, you shiver at the new sense of chill in the air, skin reeling from its loss of warmth. “Cold,” you supply with a small shrug. Gone was the buoyant, cozy happiness from dinner and the after-dinner drinks hour. A brief reprieve from your sadness that seemed to follow you like a little storm cloud. 

He finished brushing his teeth, arm guiding you along as if you’re a marionette doll and he’s the puppeteer. Not that you mind, his warm hands skating up and down your arms absentmindedly. He tucks his chin on your head and sighs.

“How d’ya wanna do this, honey?”

Reaching behind you, you quickly shut off the tap, steam from the tub dampening your arm. Hooking your thumbs in along the waist of your leggings you push the black fabric downward, hips canting from one side to the other. You feel his quick intake of breath before you hear it, the air stuttering in his lungs.

Hips successfully freed from their confines, you grip his shoulders once more to stabilize yourself. His hands settle safely at your waist, mouth open in a pant. “What do I—“

“If you could just—“ you both speak at the same time. Huffs of laughter as you compose yourself, “I’m gonna fall over if I have to wrestle these off myself.”

He swallows drily, willing his gaze not to wander too far down. “Kay, so I just—“

You chuckle, guiding his hands to the rucked up fabric at the tops of your thighs. Your fingers weave through his, thumbs leading him to the thick band. “Hook your thumbs in and tug.”

He nods dumbly, giving a cursory pull at the lycra and nylon weave. You sway at the effort, uneasy on your feet, palms steadying themselves against his shoulders. 

Standing as stark still as you could, you watched silently as he descended to his knees on the tile. Head glancing back up to you while he rolls the leggings from your thighs.

The sight of Steve kneeling at your feet nearly steals your breath. 

He swallows thickly, trying desperately to look anywhere but right in front of him. It’s not like he hasn’t thought of you before in this way. He definitely has. Because he’s a grown man who's in control of his desires, he tries not to. But because he’s a man semi-living in close quarters living with a woman he’s attracted to, he can’t help it. 

It certainly doesn’t help that he’s close enough to smell you, see the damp patch of silk on your thong, near enough to taste it, if he wanted. He bites his cheek and focuses on the metallic tang of iron in his mouth. Distracts himself with thoughts of you – your friendship, your ever-present teasing with an edge of flirtation that causes the blood in his veins to rush. 

He’s too far down now for your hands to reach his shoulders comfortably, instead, your fingers glide through his strands of hair; he bites back a groan when your nails lightly graze his scalp, tugs the leggings further down, your knees knocking together at the effort. 

“Sorry, Stevie,” you rasp, as if every cell in your body is attuned to the way he responds.

The nickname that rolls off your tongue certainly is not helping, his jeans becoming tighter as he works the fabric from your legs. He’s not sure exactly when it happened — when the friendship turned into something more for him. Somewhere between the wet plush of your lips shivering against his after the Homecoming dance freshman year, and the ABC frat party in college, he’d realized that the way he felt about you was more than friends should.

In fact, it was borderline unfriendly.

You hiss as he drags the last bit of fabric down your calves and off your ankles; the joints pop softly as you roll them out. He chucks the leggings through the doorway and rises to his full height, your mouth is open and panting — pink and wet. 

“Thanks.”

He nods, eyes trained on yours, face coloring from the effort in the heat of the room. He brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “No problem,” swallows the saliva collecting in his mouth. “I’ll let you uh—” he turns to leave.

Your hand reaches out for him, cool fingers against his forearm. “You’ll come back, yeah?” Voice but a whisper against the rushing of his blood, “When I’m settled?”

Steve curses his timing because when he turns to respond, he catches sight of your back as you lift the tank-top off. Skin dotted with beauty marks and the occasional scar, his eyes open wide. The soft curve of your breast against the cage of your ribs, the delicate slope of your waist and hips.

He has enough sense to turn away when you hook your thumbs into the band of your thong. But goddamn if it doesn’t pain him all the same. You fling the silk elsewhere and he hears the water give way as you step into the tub and slide down until the bubbles cover your form.

Casually pinning your hair up in an effort to not get it wet, some bits fall to your face and have gone wavy in the heat, curling up against your chin and cheeks. “Stevie?”

He thinks you look like some sort of Raphaelite muse.

“Come back for you?” He asks, repeating your earlier question as his back slides along the basin of the tub where he sits, sighing when your hand tangles in his hair, “Always.” 

[cee-grice]

Characters Out Of Context Tag

thanks for the tag @eccaiia!! this one seemed very fun haha

Rules: Include one character quote of your choosing ⁠from each chapter of your WIP (or as many chapters as you'd like). Give absolutely no context, save for what's between two parts of an interrupted sentence, should that occur. You may mention who said it.

softly tagging @balladofaldelis, @tisiphonewolfe, @amaiguri, @pluttskutt, @sam-glade, @pandoras-comment-box and whoever else would wanna play!

I have. a Lot of chapters. so I'll just do the first 3 parts lol

Quil, chapter 1

“I really am no more than a dog to you,” he whispered, “if you’ve managed to delude yourself into believing I’ll answer your beck and call like one.”

Mistress Silvoir, chapter 2

“Do forgive my bluntness, but you would not be questioning our ethics had you not discovered a more humane solution. Let’s not pretend any of us are saints here.”

Quil, chapter 3

“And you need me more than I do you. I think I strike a fair bargain, actually.”

Quil, chapter 4

“No, Headmistress,” he dragged, leaning in closer. “How much do you trust all who know?”

Leanda, chapter 5

“Of course,” she muttered, walking past him to unlock the doors. “I suppose I should appreciate you not making a public scene this time?”

Eli, chapter 6

“You definitely won’t get caught on day one,” they said, “because it will take Madam to notice you’d run away at least two.”

?, chapter 7

‘Your body will not cause your death.’

Quil, chapter 8

“I, personally, can’t detect it,” he conceded, to Endra’s delight. “It’s highly impressive.”

Endra, chapter 9

“Quilin. I don’t have a face. Ethics is really low on my priority list. I told you, as long as you don’t, I don’t know, start chopping my limbs off, I’m fine with whatever you wanna do.”

Rey, chapter 10

“Ah, so we can talk about that. So you— what, destroyed it all before, how do you say, kicking the bucket?”

Florin, chapter 11

“Oh. Oh. Somehow, I’m not surprised. No. I’m…” A pause. “What the fuck. What the fuck.”

Quil, chapter 12

“I’m not,” Quil rushed. “Look at me. Do I look dead? Was my skin cold?”

Celeste, chapter 13

“Oh, that’s not— Um, no, that was me. Yes.” She cleared her throat, properly red now. “It’s— Very not ideal changing your name halfway through your career, let me tell you. Wouldn’t recommend. No, sir.”

Mistress Kaelion, chapter 14

“You’re too polite. A simple ‘your theory is wrong, off to the drawing board with you’ would have sufficed.”

[bisaster-energy]

turned my milk analogy into a poem :/

@hellverse @dreamyicarus-png I never actually made a taglist for poetry so if u wanna be added just interact with this post lol

[moongirldreamer]

*click for quality*

You're always so loud. All of the time. I was worried that when they assembled you, they forgot the off switch, but its a minute past 12 and you've crashed into me. Both literally and figuratively. You're breathing down my neck, soaking your my shirt in drool and I can't help but think it's unnerving to see your body at rest. You've always been moving, flowing, crashing into me as if you were the sea and I, the fortunate cliffside you chose to kiss. You weren't meant for this, a quiet life, you were forged for a life full and loud of laughter, tears and love. So much love you'll never know where to put it all, I hope I can hold some of it for a couple years, decades if you'd let me.

I hope you find my shores everytime you need to rest, to kiss.

I hope you'll never quiet, never settle, never stop.

to eddie

♡ your cliffside

I'm disgustingly inlove with Eddie Munson so much so that this letter just poured straight out of me. Fun context if you want it, I imagine this is either before the events of season 4 or months/a year after it. I hope you enjoy my silly little letter 🖤

[thebumblecee]

WIP Wednesday

it's NSFW so its under the cut:

You want to get fucked so bad.

Yes, he does. He can’t remember the last time he bottomed. Since joining Lonestar Studios every sexual partner he’s had has wanted to be fucked by a porn star. He likes to top but he’s itching for something else.

He kicks off his clothing and he’s hard already. He coats his hand in lube and starts to stroke himself absentmindedly.

He spreads his legs so the camera gets a better view and tilts his head to the side to look into it lazily. He got told his doe eyes are a fantastic selling point so he may as well capitalise on them. He rubs his thumb over the underside of his dick and makes a choked off noise as he does.

He trained himself quite well to tone down the noises he makes during sex when he’s on camera but occasionally one or two escape.

[babyflash]

wallaway but as the it (2017) scene

16(you’ll know which one when you read)

fair warning this is probably totally ooc and it also may not make sense but idc bc its fanfiction and i can write whatever silly little au i want SO high school setting that i shove all my little fictional people into. 

find it on ao3!

prompt: For the writing prompts, maybe something about Wally and Hartley's friendship when Wally was Kid Flash? I love the potential of the two trying to keep it a secret that they're besties with a hero/villain from the team or other supervillains, and just the sheer chaos of those two as teens.

tags, warnings, etc.: just wally west being hartley’s manic pixie dream girl, no warnings! meet cute??? this doesn’t really fit the prompt but it’s wallaway and they sure do meet. 

word count: 1,816

requested by: @mossycrumpet

-

     Hartley hated new schools. He especially hated new schools in small towns. Keystone City, Kansas has a population of too-few and all the teenagers in the town attended the same high school. The same high school that Hartley’s parents moved him to over the summer. Junior year, hello Keystone City High! Luckily, he didn’t have to join in the middle of the semester and the Rogues are just a train ride away. All he has to do is get through the next two years without incident, get into some fancy school his parents will approve of, and then he’s free! Maybe. Hopefully. Hartley refocused himself, it was his first day and he had arrived. Well, it was everyone’s first day. That was a comforting thought. As he walked towards the suddenly very imposing doors, he tried not to think about how everyone here already knew everyone else and he was the outsider. He was a lamb entering the lions’ den, he’d be lucky to make it to first block alive. 

     Hartley counted his blessings when he saw the very clearly labeled front office as soon as he entered the building. He beelined for it, having not been in town for open house and therefore not having his schedule, and steeled himself before heading for the small woman sitting behind the desk. Wordlessly, and before he could speak, she held up a finger. A little shocked, Hartley obeyed and waited for her to finish her snail’s pace tapping on the keyboard. While he waited, he observed her and her red cat-eye readers, the faux-gemstone glasses chain hanging around her neck, she had an almost comical beehive. There were huge filing cabinets lining the walls behind her. Hartley felt like he’d entered a time bubble. After several agonizing moments, she turned to him and smiled. 

     “Hello, dear, so sorry about that wait,” she pulled the glasses off her face and dropped them, letting the chain catch them against her chest. “What can I do for you?”

     “Uh,” Hartley’s brain felt a little like mush. The second she spoke and actually gave him her attention, the entire script he had for her had left his mind. Stupid traitor script. He remembered himself and pulled one of his earbuds out, fiddling with it. “Uh. Um, my name is Hartley and… and I need to pick up my schedule.” She stared a little bit. “I’m… I’m new in town.” 

     For a brief, terrifying moment, she remained silent and staring. Then, as if a switch flipped, she smiled at him again and picked up the phone sitting on the desk in front of her and pressed a couple of buttons. It made a strange crackling noise and she spoke into it without putting it to her ear. 

     “Mrs. Stevenson? I need you to send Mr. Wally West to the front office, I need his assistance.” She paused, listening for a response that Hartley didn’t hear and didn’t think she heard either. “Thank you.” She turned back to him and smiled again. “What’s your last name, sweetheart?” 

     He flushed. He thought he’d done a good job introducing himself, but apparently not. “Oh, um, Rathaway.” 

     She blinked, and a brief shocked expression crossed her face. Then, she schooled her expression back to the kind grin she’d had moments before and pushed against the desk to send her rolling chair to the filing cabinets behind her. She yanked on one of the drawers and it opened with a loud whooshing sound. Her bright red nail polish shined as she quickly sifted through the contents, giving a small “ah-ha!” as she brandished what she was looking for with a smile. The secretary rolled back towards him and placed a schedule in his hands. Then, she leaned in, conspiratorial. A little mesmerized by her, Hartley leaned in, too and she spoke to him in a whisper. 

     “Dr. Haven insists on a paper filing system, though,” with this she lowered her voice further. “Between you and me? I think he may be a time traveler from the fifties.” 

     He stared at her. Was she joking? Could she read his mind? She winked. He grinned. At that moment, a blur of color and fabric came bursting through the door. The blur nearly knocked a potted plant over and Hartley braced for an impact that never came. There was something achingly familiar about the way the newcomer moved, the chaos and simultaneous self-assuredness. 

     “Hi, Miss Darlene!” The boy (not a blur) spoke. “Sorry it took me so long, I was wrapping up a quiz when you called.” 

     Hartley looked at the secretary (Miss Darlene, his mind supplied) with what had to have been a bewildered expression because she laughed lightly at his face. 

     “Just the entrance I expected from you, Mr. West! Not to worry, I just need you to show our new student around. He missed the open house last week.” 

     When had he told her that? Miss Darlene winked at him again. What did she know that he didn’t? He narrowed his eyes at her, but before he could say anything, the kid grabbed his arm and tugged, a little impatiently. Hartley shoved his earbud back into his ear and followed his tour guide out of the office. The guide began chattering away as he led Hartley to what seemed to be a central area for the school. Some students sat on benches and picnic tables scattered throughout the area, and there were plenty of bulletin boards filled with flyers for events, clubs, and classes that wanted advertisement. Hartley observed the school with a bit of scrutiny. The walls were white, and the floor was checkered with dark green and a light gray, the school’s colors. 

     “... schedule?” 

     Hartley snapped back into focus, pulling an earbud out once again and finding his tour guide’s face. 

     “Sorry, what?” He asked. 

     “Can I see your schedule?” The kid - Wally West, as Miss Darlene had called him - didn’t seem upset at having to repeat himself. He smiled, pleasantly and a bit lazily. His smile was crooked, the left corner of his mouth rising higher than the right. He had freckles all over his face, and his cheeks were rosy. Hartley zeroed in on a small freckle on his bottom lip without thinking. Wally’s green eyes sparkled with vague amusement, and Hartley remembered where he was and what was happening in an embarrassing rush. 

     “Right!” Hartley said, probably a little too loud. A couple heads turned as he sheepishly handed the kid his schedule. “Sorry. About that.” 

     “It’s alright, new kid,” Wally’s voice was soft and tilted a bit when he spoke. Hartley felt the tips of his ears heat up. He really liked this kid’s voice, it almost had a musical quality to it. He watched with bated breath as Wally looked over his schedule. The crooked grin was back, and the schedule was slid back into Hartley’s hand. “You can follow me.” 

     So, Hartley did. He followed Wally West to his locker, studiously kept his eyes on the door of it as he deposited his things, he was led to his first, second, third, and fourth blocks, then shown the gymnasium, the cafeteria, the quad (which - what kind of high school legitimately has a quad?), and the athletic fields. The whole tour only took about twenty minutes, but Hartley hardly recalled anything. He was too focused on the kid’s voice, the intonation and the way he pronounced his words. Too focused on the sound of it to register what was being said. 

     “... got the same homeroom, so I’ll probably see you around. Do you have any questions? Need anything else?”

     “Sorry, what?” He felt like a broken record.

     “We’re in the same homeroom. And we have the same lunch. You can sit with me and Linda today, if you’d like.” That smile was back. “I’m Wally West, by the way. I don’t think I ever told you that.” 

     “I know.” He said it without thinking. Wally’s eyebrows raised, and Hartley felt like cursing himself for his lack of impulse control. “I… uh, Miss Darlene said it. A couple times, I think. I’m Hartley Rathaway, I’m -”

     “The new kid?” Wally hooked his thumbs into the straps of his backpack. 

     “Yeah,” the word left Hartley’s mouth in a rush of breath. He smiled, feeling at ease in an instant. “I moved here in July, but my folks took me out of town last week, so…” 

     “So, no open house.” Wally nodded, not needing Hartley’s confirmation. “Hey, whatcha listening to, new kid?” 

     What was he listening to? 

Step by step,

Ooh, baby,

Gonna get to you, girl!

     Oh God. He was listening to New Kids on the Block. That was the most distinctly embarrassing music he could be listening to! Before Hartley could change the song, Wally had the free earbud up to his ear. Through his embarrassed haze, Hartley noticed that Wally didn’t put the earbud fully in his ear, which was appreciated. A small smile grew on Wally’s lips, and Hartley kind of wanted to curl up and die. Wally would think he’s a total dweeb for listening to an 80s boy band, and then he’d take back his lunch invitation and Hartley would sit alone and never make any friends because Wally totally had to be super popular and then he’d end up dying alone with only the Rogues caring. This was the worst case scenario. 

     “New Kids on the Block.” Wally’s lovely voice was thick with amusement. 

     “I don’t even like them! It’s… it’s a friend’s playlist!” Lies. Total bullshit lies. Hartley didn’t even believe himself, why would Wally? 

     “Right.” Wally drew out the vowel, and then winked. Actually winked! Hartley felt his heart beat a little faster. “Well, I gotta run.”

     Hartley’s heart sank a little bit. He took the earbud that was handed to him back and held up two fingers in a peace sign. A peace sign?! Wally, somehow, found that charming, because he laughed a little bit and held up a peace sign of his own. His nose scrunched and Hartley’s knees went a bit weak. 

     “I’ll see you at lunch?”

     The lunch invitation! Had not been taken back! A little starstruck, he nodded mutely. 

     “Cool, hang tough, new kid!” Wally threw another wink over his shoulder as he walked away. 

     Quick! Say something cool! Something suave! A voice in his head (one that sounded suspiciously like Lisa) whispered to him. 

     “Uh, please don’t go, girl!” Lame! Lame! Totally lame. He saw Wally’s shoulders shake as he disappeared around the corner, and maybe it was the light, but he totally caught a hint of that crooked grin, too. Wally was, despite Hartley’s brain’s best efforts, charmed. Hartley felt a bit of satisfaction as he straightened his messenger bag and started off towards his first block. Until he realized he had no idea how to get there.

[kay-elle-cee]

to have and to hold and to fight like hell || 2.2K Words || Read on Ao3 || Rated T

Written for @mppmaraudergirl's Alight With Happiness Fest for day three: Thrice Defied.

It's James and Lily's wedding day, and emotions are…complicated. There's a target affixed to their backs — a muggleborn witch marrying the last Potter — and Alastor Moody plans to use that target to the Order's advantage.

Lily stood before the full-body mirror in the corner of their bedroom, admiring the care with which Dorcas had charmed her hair into a style pulled back from her face. Her hand skimmed the soft material of the white dress that clung to her stomach, the loose bell sleeves falling back at her wrist. It all seemed so familiar, even though it was all wrong. “I really don’t want to do this,” she breathed, sharp eyes darting up to catch James’ gaze in the mirror. He stood not far behind her, wand held tightly in his hand as he tried in vain to organize the curls atop his head. The smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his eyes, his jaw set tight. “Now, I feel like I should be hurt by that,” he joked lightly, through the tension that swelled around them.

[wolfie-bee]

Ties that bind

read it here as a twitter fic

"You know, when you showed up at my door this morning I didn't wanna let you in." Kara's words are a soft vulnerable truth, but the weight of them lodges deep in Lena's chest.

She knows, had seen the inky lines of mistrust etched across Kara's face that morning when offering the beginnings of an apology and a plea to help stop Lex.

There's tension in the lines of Kara's shoulders and Lena's eyes get stuck there as she looks down at her feet and stacks her hands on her hips. Then they dissolve into silence.

Well why are you still here? Lena wants to ask. Why am I here? But the words feel heavy, hurt springing like blood on her tongue.

Guilt immediately rushes in, you stole from me, you convinced me to steal for you and you used kryptonite on me!! an echoing ring in her ears that instantly liquefies her resolve. Her jaw tenses and ticks, and she dips her head, shifting her eyes away from the otherworldly gravity that Kara's holds.

Kara lifts her head and her eyes fixate on Lena's as the silence stretches, a stormy sea of emotions churning in their blue depths. The intensity in them tenses Lena's spine and she folds her arms tightly across her chest like a physical shield from their direct assault. She doesn't recognize this look, hates the uncertainty as bitter indignation crowds her stomach and the words you betrayed me, you broke my heart lock with startling force behind her ribcage.

"Alex was right," Kara chuckles humorlessly, "I'm not rational when it comes to you. I think with my heart and not with my head."

"Funny, Lex said the same to me."

Kara's expression turns inscrutable, and Lena doesn't know if it's because of the mention of her brother or their similarities when it comes to dealing with each other. She figures it's a little of both.

"But…" Lena continues, swallowing her pride and the lump forming in her throat, "is that such a bad thing?"

Kara doesn't answer. Instead, she lets out a shallow breath, forehead crinkling like this conversation had already become too much. She had shut this conversation down one too many times when Lena had tried to broach it earlier. But damn if it doesn't make Lena want to crawl out of her own skin.

She'd thought they were making some progress, had felt the tentative stirrings of reconciliation as they'd worked together to stop Leviathan. 

It's disconcerting that she can't get a read on Kara's eyes as she takes a step back, red boots scuffing against the floor. And Lena's heart aches at the physical distance like an ever widening chasm between them.

"On Krypton, trust was something sacred." Kara starts softly, inhaling a large gulp of air that draws Lena's eyes to the glyph on her chest. "We broke that in each other, we caused each other so much pain and -"

"Pain is a necessary part of life," Lena says hoarsely, the words quivering on her tongue. "I learned that the hard way when Non Nocere failed."

Another bout of silence falls over them and Lena uses it to turn away from Kara, gathering strength for what she's about to say next. 

"So I get it. You don't have to trust me in order for us to keep working together."

"But I want to…" Kara answers immediately, and there's earnestness in the soft tremor of her voice. "you came through today at every opportunity and I - I'm not saying that you have to keep doing that but, I want to trust you, Lena. I want to let you in again."

Lena releases the breath she didn't realize she was holding, relief spreading like fissures across her heart, a warm hopeful balm in her veins as she squeezes her eyes shut.

"Kara," she breathes out, lips trembling as she forces out the word. A host of reasons why they shouldn't do this flashes through her mind, the biggest of them being that Lena didn't think that she deserved to hold on to the tentative reins of trust being offered.

She hears her take a step.

Then another. 

And another. 

Until Kara's pressed right against her, a comforting warmth at Lena's back that makes her heart tremble as those warm familiar hands land on her shoulders. The touch nearly makes Lena flinch. She doesn't know why it surprises her since Kara has always been the more tactile one between them. And her brain stalls in trying to furiously calculate exactly how long they've been apart.

Kara notices, of course she does. She breathes out shakily, hands drifting along the curve of Lena's shoulders and the small of her back. 

Lena trembles at the feel of it, her touch starved body aching to be held in Kara's arms again. Because Kara is warmth and light and Lena still loves her with the inevitability of a new day and the gravity that binds them to each other.

Kara's touch is an irresistible force and Lena can't even find it within her to be angry that her defenses were practically nonexistent as the tension melts from her in seconds.

That warmth reaches all the way to her toes as those hands slide in a comforting press down the arch of her spine to settle lightly at her hips. Before Lena can think herself out of it, she turns, just to see her face as the desire to reach out, to touch, loosens the threaded beat of her anxious heart. 

The hands on her hips bunches in Lena's blouse almost to the point of contention and she freezes, lifting her eyes to Kara's. This is the closest they've been in a while but the uncertainty in Kara's eyes is almost Lena's undoing. She allows herself a small conciliation, grasping onto the hands already clinging to her, as if that could somehow convey the mix of emotions thrumming inside her chest.

The wall between them all but falls away as Kara loosens one of her hands to reach out and cup her face. Lena leans readily into the contact and Kara's eyes soften, allowing her a glimpse of the woman she'd fallen in love with.

"How do I let you in again?" Kara asks, a shaky plea that loosens tears from her devastatingly attractive eyes. Lena wants to reach up and kiss them away, but her insecurities leave her rooted to the spot.

"Maybe you shouldn't," She answers truthfully, her doubts manifesting as those small broken words.

Kara's palm trembles against her cheek and Lena closes her eyes, moving to shift away. But Kara's other hand presses more insistently against her side, warming her through her clothes and Lena nearly chokes on her name, can't find her voice which gets lost somewhere in the trembling cry struggling to break free. 

"I know I hurt you by not telling you my truth." Kara says, drawing Lena's eyes to hers. "And I'm sorry. I haven't had a lot of practice doing this. Growing up I was forced to hide my abilities because the people around me could get hurt and I - I know that's no excuse, but I hope -" Kara stops abruptly, lips trembling too much to continue.

And Lena doesn't want to talk about this anymore, can't talk about it without breaking down again. Her heart aches for Kara, for this woman born of different stars and the hardships she faced. So she closes the rest of the distance, folding herself into Kara's embrace.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that." She whispers, tucking her face against Kara's neck as those warm arms go around her. 

"Lena," the way that Kara says her name has never failed to make Lena's breath hitch. "I hope that one day you can forgive me."

Her trembling arms lock around Kara's shoulders, and Kara nuzzles against her hair, chest expanding as she breathes Lena in. Lena closes her eyes and oh, Kara's touch is grounding and these arms feel more like home than any place on earth ever could.

She doesn't expect the soft lingering kiss that Kara leans in and presses to her temple and the intimacy and affection of it shatters Lena's careful composure. Tears fills her eyes, tears that spill down her face as her breathing shortens and they don't have time for this, they have to stop Lex from whatever he's plotting, they have to -

But patient, gentle Kara frames her face between warm palms, tenderly brushing the tears away with the pad of her thumbs and the anchoring force of another kiss pressed sweetly against her skin. 

Her kiss is light dawning in the darkness, darkness that rushes out from Lena's heart and flees from the crevices of her soul as Kara's kisses move across her temple and down to her eyebrows. She doesn't stop, pressing them in reverence across her eyelids, sweeping along the bridge of Lena's nose down to the apple of her cheeks, a sweet calming force that quiets Lena's mind.

It's new, this level of intimacy, the fact that they've never really used kisses for comforting each other in all of their years of friendship. Lena finds that she can't get enough of it, craves the press of Kara's warm mouth on her skin and can't believe that they've never done this before.

She flushes brightly when Kara tilts her chin with a hand covering her jaw to drop a kiss just below Lena's ear and stills long enough for Lena to reopen her eyes.

Kara's cheeks are a lovely red and Lena's eyes get stuck there, admiring their rosy hue. She doesn't know what expression her face forms as Kara moves back a little but they stare at each other, all heavy lidded eyes and soft breaths mingling in the short space between. The staring lengthens to the point where Lena feels like she's about to combust beneath the allure of those magnetic blue eyes.

So she moves in, drawn to Kara, softly touching their noses together. The action elicits a wobbly smile from Kara's pretty pink lips and Lena closes her eyes again, hands falling to grasp onto Kara’s suit clad biceps. Her nose skims across the rise of Kara's cheek, and down to her calming fluttering pulse, overwhelmed by the scent of peaches clinging to her skin.

One of Kara's hands finds her hip again, the other mindlessly tangling in Lena's hair and Lena can't think of a safer place than these arms as she absentmindedly noses along the slope of Kara's neck till the point where the supersuit starts. Her lips tingle where they accidentally meet warm skin and she draws back a little to intentionally press them lightly against the hollow of Kara's throat. 

It's a bit concerning that she doesn't have the wherewithal to be mortified by her actions, but Kara's only reaction is a quiet breath against her ear.

So she does it again, soft, tentative.

This time Kara makes a tiny noise of encouragement that fills Lena with ardor and she wants to hear it again, has to hear it again. So she opens her mouth a little and scrapes her teeth along the corded muscles of Kara’s neck, feeling them flutter beneath the soft roll of her tongue. Kara's breathing turns heavy.

Lena delights at the response and the feeling of Kara's fingers tightening in her hair. She grows bolder with her kisses, moving back up Kara's neck and across the line of her jaw like a woman possessed.

This isn't something that best friends do. But right now they weren't even friends. And Lena's always been a little too in love with Kara to truly make her an enemy. 

"Lena," Kara says, the name a soft aching sigh as Lena presses a litany of sweet kisses along Kara's soft reddened cheek, unable to stop or draw herself away as those fingers clench tighter in her hair.

Kara's breathing is a mess, and she closes her eyes as Lena carefully tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, lips still pressed to soft warm skin.

"I'm sorry too." She whispers, soft, penitent. The tears come again, the shame at what she'd done a suffocating force as her lips tremble against Kara's skin, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. "I hurt you and I know I can't make up for what I did but I promise, I'm going to try."

Kara's hand slips beneath the blouse that had loosened from where it had been tucked in her jeans and Lena's breath hitches as her warm hand lands on equally warm skin. She kisses Kara's cheek again, pressing closer, feels like they aren't truly close enough as she kisses her again and again.

Kara's lips catch the last kiss aimed for the corner of her mouth and her hand slides around to Lena's lower back, making Lena's heart flutter.

She doesn't lose stride, if anything, she's embolden, her silken mouth parting Lena's lips with a soft tremor. The kiss immediately deepens, no prelude, no hesitancy, only a soothing whisper of Lena's hands moving to tenderly frame Kara’s face and kisses as inevitable as freefall.

Kara's kisses are transcendental and Lena's mouth parts below hers as her thumbs sweep against the apple of Kara's cheeks, lips aching with apologies and promises.

The crest of the House of El presses tight against her chest and Lena presses a palm directly over it, a silent promise, a deep shuddering breath escaping her lips as Kara's second hand moves to join the other as they frame the dips on her lower back.

Lena's hands shift to tangle in the red cape on Kara's back as she kisses her with salt on her lips and forgiveness on her tongue. Kara's mouth trembles against hers, a reminder of the more difficult parts of the conversation still to come and a sweet tentative taste of the reconciliation awaiting them.

Happy Supercorp Sunday everyone!! Once again this fic was written on Twitter today in response to the gif tweeted above by @CSIRJen who's awesome and just provides inspiring tweets that make me write these weird little stories 😅 thank you to everyone who's gotten this far, I'm always amazed when people read all of my rambling words.

[cricketnationrise]

dear cricketina, i humbly request some magic words ❤️

time stamp - 5:38am

location - anywhere as long as there's a sunrise (some ideas might be: beach, airplane, looking at a picture/video of a sunrise, in a cozy resort suite with the sunrise bathing the room in lovely colours - but you can choose anything you want!)

character - henry fox mountchristen windsor

song - from 'the air that i breathe' by the hollies:

Making love with you Has left me peaceful, warm, and tired What more could I ask There's nothing left to be desired Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak So sleep, silent angel Go to sleep

Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe And to love you All I need is the air that I breathe Yes, to love you All I need is the air that I breathe

rating - up to you!!

dearest darling cee. what a FANTASTIC prompt. a banger from top to bottom. full disclosure, i basically wrote this on my lunch break today as an escape from The Horrors(TM), so I hope it's everything you wanted and that you love it as much as i love you 💜🦗

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

5:38am, the lakehouse

Alex would never say it, but Henry knows. He knows how close he came to ruining the lakehouse for Alex when Henry left him in the lake. When Henry left him in the bunk beds. 

When Henry left him. 

It’s Alex’s self-professed second favorite place in the whole world—right below the circle of Henry’s arms on one of his many lists. So this trip, their first trip back after everything hit the fan and somehow came out confetti instead of shit, is possibly the most important trip of Henry’s life. 

It’s just them this time. Just him and Alex: basking in the sun like overgrown lizards, playing in the water, filling up the house with the sounds of Alex’s music and the scent of migas in the morning and ribs in the afternoon. It’s the two of them flirting all day and abandoning any kind of civilized schedule for sex all over the property whenever the mood strikes them. 

The weather has been kind, no storms or excessive humidity—just one perfect Texas day after another, the sun making Alex glow even more than he usually does. He’s a sight to behold at any hour: lazy mornings when he grins at Henry over his giant mug of coffee, high noon when they retreat to the back deck for some shade on the swing, late afternoon on the lake when the setting sun sparkles off the water and in Alex’s eyes, purple dusks when the only light is from the moon and the fire burning low. 

But there’s nothing like the sight of Alex at sunrise. 

Alex comes into focus as the light changes from deepest night, the sweat at his hairline highlighted in the weak grey of false dawn. Dust motes dance and swirl amidst Alex’s gasping pleas as the sun peeks over the horizon, washing the underside of clouds in brilliant orange and pinks. The unruly mess of Alex’s brown hair—tousled from hours of moving over and with and under Henry on the bed—looks like strands of burnished copper as the sun climbs steadily higher and burns brightly in the clear blue sky. 

Henry collapses—utterly exhausted—next to an equally spent Alex with a contented sigh. Chronic insomnia is usually heinous, especially on their vacation, but occasionally, like tonight, like this morning, he and Alex indulge in the opportunity. Henry kept Alex on the edge—letting him get close a few times and then backing away before finally, finally, giving them both what they wanted and pushing Alex over the edge, following him helplessly right after—the only sounds this morning are the birds and the waves of the lake lapping on the shore. For now, Alex doesn’t need to fill the peaceful silence, and Henry doesn’t need words to bask in the afterglow. It’s still a rare treat, to be together like this with no official obligations pulling either of them away. Eventually, they’ll leave this cocoon of their bed—for sustenance, for another canoeing adventure, for a shower. But for now, all Henry needs is air to breathe. 

And Alex next to him, sharing it with him. 

[loki-cees-all]

For the celebration, what would Loki do if he realized your birthday was coming up but you were sad about getting older? Or being alone on that day?

The Distraction {Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / Cee and K's Glorious Birthday Bash Celebration Prompt List / AO3 Link

Pairing : (hints of) Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader

Summary : Another year, another birthday. All you want to do is not think about it too much, so Loki comes up with a helpful distraction.

W/c : 1.5k words

Content/Warnings : Fluff, a smidgeon of angst, Loki & reader friendship, hints that it could be something more

Author's Note : Apologies this took so long, @queen-paladin. Hope you enjoy it! <3

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“So, what are your plans for this evening?” 

Bruce’s question had caught you off guard. Zoning out a while ago, you were only brought back to the reality of the Avengers conference room once you felt everyone’s gaze upon you. The meeting hadn’t started yet, and apparently the conversation had shifted to the subject of your birthday during the wait, much to your own chagrin. 

“Climbing a mountain? Wrangling a wild lion? Threesome? Stop me when I’m getting warm,” Tony offered without looking up from his cell phone; even while not paying attention, he still needed to make the most entertaining guess possible.

Clint laughed as he twirled a pen between his fingers. “Angling for an invite?”

“Well, surely she’ll be reflecting on her triumphs and accomplishments over the past year. Isn’t that what mortals do on their birthdays?” Thor mumbled through a mouthful of several donuts. His question was a genuine one, and so was his smile; and he meant no harm, but it still made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Only if Lady Gaga is the third,” Tony replied to Clint with a smirk. The conversation was already spiraling wildly out of control, and your throat was starting to dry up. 

“Leave her be,” Natasha interrupted, sensing your discomfort from across the table. “You guys aren’t cool enough to hear about her birthday plans anyway…” 

As you brought the coffee cup to your lips, Natasha shot you a wink, and you were grateful for the save. Truthfully, you hated your birthday and therefore had nothing on the agenda…other than your definitely exciting plans of catching some much-needed shut-eye and trying not to think too much about anything. 

“Whatever her plans are, she’s definitely earned it. And we all wish you the happiest of birthdays,” Steve smiled reassuringly before clearing his throat to begin the meeting. 

As he went on and on about intel reports and reminders about the importance of collateral damage mitigation, one pair of eyes continued to linger on you - soft, thoughtful, curious. He hadn’t said much during the previous conversation, but then again, he never did. 

Instead, Loki preferred to study and listen, to learn whatever he could in the silence of everything left unsaid. And once the meeting finally adjourned, you silently retreated to your private quarters, eager for the silence where no one would expect you to say anything. 

The evening snow had cocooned the city in a blanket of chilled warmth, cozy and elegant and quiet. There were no sirens and emergencies that night; it was so cold outside that even villains and criminals couldn’t be bothered to stir up trouble. 

Snuggled up tight in your bed inside Stark Tower with your phone on silent mode, you drifted in and out of consciousness - thinking about everything that had passed you by, dreaming about what you’d never be able to accomplish. You had made it to the Avengers Team, an impressive feat to be sure, but how long would that last?

Would you ever feel like you’d made it in a building surrounded by Gods and geniuses, miracles and champions? Would you ever find love? Did Avengers ever get a happy ending? Probably not…

The knuckles of a careful hand tapped on your door, rousing you from your thoughts. It was late - almost midnight, minutes away from not having to think about your birthday for another year. 

Begrudgingly, you extracted yourself from the warm blankets and trudged to the door of your private quarters. The air was frigid and sharp, and you shivered as you brushed the hair out of your eyes and looked through the peephole. 

Loki waited on the other side of the door, standing tall and regal, yet casual and sincere, all at the same time. And despite the late hour, or maybe even because of it, he looked even more beautiful than usual. 

You had no idea why he was here; you hadn’t spent much time with him outside the confines of missions, but you always wished that was different. When he did speak up, he was clever and funny, and he seemed to be at least somewhat amused by you too. But he preferred seclusion, and so did you. 

Swallowing hard, you scrambled to smooth out your wrinkled pajamas and comb your fingers through your messy hair, trying to appear at least somewhat put together as you pulled open the door. 

“Apologies for the late intrusion, but…could I have a moment of your time?” he greeted, smiling an infuriating combination of charm and consideration. 

You nodded and tried to ignore the butterflies in your belly as you stepped aside to let him in. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, I just got back from the, um…” 

Loki followed you inside, his hands placed casually in his pockets as he looked curiously around your room. But his gaze returned to you as your voice trailed off, waiting patiently for you to continue. 

“From the, um…place with the…” you trailed off again, trying to come up with an interesting thing you had done that night. Loki arched an eyebrow and an amused smile crept across his face as he watched you try to come up with a believable lie. 

Sighing heavily and resigning to admit the truth, you collapsed down on the couch. “I didn’t go anywhere tonight. I really hate my birthday.” 

Loki chuckled and sat down carefully next to you. “Yes, I’d gathered as much. It seems like birthdays are a mixed bag for humans…” 

“Yeah, they really are…” you replied quietly, staring at your fingers as they pressed and fidgeted with one another. “Is it the same way with Asgardian birthdays?” 

Loki shifted on the couch to lean back and cross his legs. “Well, we don’t really have a concept of birthdays where I’m from. After the first thousand or so, I’d imagine that they’d probably become incredibly…tedious,” he answered thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, that makes sense…” 

Silence descended upon you both, and you realized it was the first time you’d ever been alone with him. He smelled like an ancient forest and the spices of a distant land. It was comforting, and suddenly you couldn’t remember why you’d never invited him over before. 

“So what is it about your special day that’s left you so melancholy?” 

You laughed and shook your head as you leaned back too, staring up at the ceiling overhead. “You’re the God of Lies, and from what I’ve gathered, a quick study on humanity. So why don’t you tell me?” 

“Well, from my thorough interrogations of other humans…” Loki smiled teasingly before letting out a deep breath. “I’d wager it has to do with the passage of time. The reminder of your own mortality. The pressures that society places on you to have the best day ever. When in reality, it’s just…another day one needs to make it through.” 

You turned to look at him, and he met your gaze. His green eyes were beautiful, sparkling even in the low light of your quarters. “Mmm. You really are a quick study…” 

“Well, I do what I can…” Loki hummed in response. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something else, and your breath hitched; but instead, he turned his head to look out the window. 

Returning your attention to your hands, you tried not to think about what he was going to say, or what it meant that he was here. That you were alone together. That he was…trying to comfort you, in his own way. 

“It’s a pity to waste all that…” he murmured absentmindedly as he pulled the curtains aside. 

The snow was starting to pile up outside, and the sky was filled with fluttering sheets of crisp white, effortlessly dimming the lights of the city and making you feel like you two were the only ones left in the world. “Shall we go and have what you humans call a snowball fight?” 

You laughed incredulously. “The God of Mischief wants to spend the last few minutes of my birthday having a snowball fight?” 

Loki turned back to you with a playful grin on his face. It was intoxicating and delightful. “Why not? You seem like you could use a distraction. And what is mischief if not a distraction?” 

You couldn’t help but smile, the biggest one you’d had all day. Loki returned your smile in earnest as he stood up, ready to go. He held his hand out for you to take it, and you couldn’t believe the blessing he was offering. 

“Okay - but no magic. I am just a weak mortal, and it is still technically my birthday…” you teased, accepting his helping hand. 

Loki laughed with a warm smile. “Agreed, I won’t use any magic. Wouldn’t want to humiliate you on your birthday, now would I?”

You really didn’t care whether you won or lost the upcoming fight. All that mattered was that you had a distraction - and Loki was the perfect one. 

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

[rosewaterandivy]

coming soon...

[cee-grice]

nanowrimo final update~

YEAS I REACHED MY GOAL

ended nanowrimo with 58k and I'm sooo happy with that. I rewrote the entire past timeline, which leaves me with half of the rewrite left. I cannot explain to y'all how glad I am I'm actually able to cut down so many words 😭😭 originally, this part was 69k...so that's 11k cut, without deleting any scenes....while ADDING scenes....like, I'm a god lol

anyway, it's all looking good pace-wise, so hopefully december is as fruitful as november was!! snippet for this week:

Endra had half-expected Leanda to argue, to give a snarky remark and brush past him, but she only sighed, exhausted. “I’m not the monster you believe me to be. Whatever harm I bring others in only to protect you. You understand the feeling yourself, don’t you?” She paused, as if aware of the discomfort that prickled under his skin. “As long as his intentions remain true, I have no reason to harm him. That’s all I can offer you.” As she passed him, she dropped her voice to a murmur. “You should know, though, the boundaries between a patient and a doctor exist for a reason. Nothing good has ever come from blurring them.” With that, she crossed the room and left. Endra stood frozen in place, something agitating pulling at his nerves, before he followed. When he found Quil outside, cautiously responding to whatever Leanda had said in that same language, Endra thought, a little helplessly, ‘well, too late for that’.

[cairoscene]

Send to All

i guess i’ll make a fic promo here for posterity

[READ HERE on AO3]

Pairing: Gen

Rating: Teen

Words: 3099

Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Additional Tags: Multimedia, Epistolary, Email fic, Batfamily, Humor, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Barbara Gordon is at her limit, Legal Documents, Poison Ivy adjacent, Passive Aggressive Emails, the horror of realizing your dad Fucks

Summary: I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).

-

the bats have a sex pollen release form. because of course they do.

Inspired by: Batnesia by Qui particularly Ch. 8 which gave me the biggest brainworms

[kristannafever]

Second Chances

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: Explicit (See tags) WC: 3163

Summary: It's been eight months since Anna's ex broke up with her in a brutal way. Her concerned sister sets her up on a date, and when she meets Kristoff, it does not go well. Afterward, upon getting an earful from Elsa, Anna realizes her mistake and goes about making things right. What happens between them afterward gives them each a second chance at love and the life they both want to have.

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

“Anna, I am breaking up with you.”

Anna nearly choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken.  She stared at her boyfriend with wide eyes, not sure what she had just heard.  “What?”

“It’s over.”

Panic began to well in the pit of her stomach.  Her hands started to shake as she set the coffee mug back down on the table.  “What do you mean?”

He heaved a dramatic sigh.  “You heard me.  We’re done.”

“Where is this coming from,” she pleaded, getting up and walking over to where he was standing in the kitchen.   He’d just gotten back from his run.  When he left the house, it was as if nothing was any different.  And now he was telling her that they were done?

He rolled his eyes.  “Oh come on, Anna.  We haven’t had sex in weeks.  And when we do, you’re so…” he moved his hands around like he was fishing for the word, “…uninspired.   I mean, you don’t even give good blow jobs.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.   She had thought the problems they were facing were just a bit of a slump.  Just the day before she’d gone out and bought some sexy lingerie to surprise him with after the romantic dinner they had planned for that weekend.   Was that not happening now?

“Oh, and just so you know,” he said casually as he turned away, “I’ve started seeing other women.  So I can get… you know… taken care of.   You don’t even know how to kiss properly.”

Anna felt sick to her stomach, watching helplessly after him as he walked towards their bedroom to take a shower.  Despite having said some mean things to her from time to time, what he had just said was downright cruel, and she felt ashamed of herself.  She felt stupid and pathetic. 

Wiping her eyes, she went back to the table and sat down slowly, staring into her morning coffee that she’d actually been enjoying only a moment ago, trying to figure out in her mind what had just happened.  The long and short of it?  She didn’t please him and he’d been seeing other women. 

How had she not known this?  She had thought everything was just… normal.   He had never been a very enthusiastic lover, and he always met his end while Anna had to often take care of herself, and now she had to wonder if it was because she was just that bad at pleasing a man?

He'd been her first serious boyfriend.  Her first real love.  The first guy she’d ever moved out with.  And now all that was coming crashing down around her.   Three years of her life, gone, just like that.

Anna buried her head into her hands and sobbed.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

“This is a nice place, Anna.”

Anna didn’t respond, she just let her sister in without a word.  The apartment had been his, of course she had to move out when he dumped her. 

Her sister turned around at Anna’s silence.  “You know I hate that man for what he did to you.”

“I know,” Anna said through a sigh.  “I hate him too.”  She told Elsa that he had cheated on her but she did not tell her sister the awful things that her ex had said to her.  And they hadn’t ended in the kitchen that day.  She had begged and pleaded with him for hours afterwards and was met with yet more harsh comments on what an awful woman she was.

Anna led them into the living room and poured them each a glass of red wine from the bottle that was sitting on the coffee table.   She watched her sister as her eyes went around, taking in the small apartment before settling onto her gaze.      

“So, have you been on any dates?”

“Elsa…” Anna sighed with frustration.  “Why won’t you drop it?”

“Anna, it’s been what?  Eight months?  You need to move on.”

Anna was silent and looked down into her wine.  She knew she needed to move on, but how could she do that?  Apparently, she had nothing to offer a man.  What possible hope did she have of making something work.

Elsa set her wine glass down on the table and turned towards her on the couch.  “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to get out here sooner.  Work has been incredibly demanding, only now that I see you, I feel like that is a pathetic excuse.”

She frowned.  Did she really look that bad?  “It’s okay, Elsa.  I know how important your job is.  And you still call me almost every night.”

“I do, which is probably why you’re tired of telling me you need to get back out there.  You have to see that it’s time to live your life again, don’t you?”

Anna did know that.  And she wanted to, desperately.  But what man would want her?  She’d been hit on a few times only to brush the guy off knowing that she would end up disappointing him in the end.   If she was honest with herself, she didn’t think she’d be able to stomach going through that again.

“Listen, Anna.  I have a friend who’s fairly new to our firm who happens to have moved from here.  She has a brother, and she says-”

Anna’s eyes went wide.  “No way, Elsa.  I am absolutely not about to be set up right now.”

“Please, Anna.”  Elsa reached out and grabbed her free hand.  “For me?   Please?  You can’t be afraid to start dating again.”

She pulled her hand away from her sisters and set the wine down on the coffee table as she got up.  “No.  Absolutely not.”

Elsa followed her as she walked into the kitchen.  “Give me one good reason why you won’t?” her sister demanded. 

Anna pursed her lips.  She would never breathe a word of what her ex had said to her to another living soul, and that was giving her little option for an excuse.   “I… don’t want to.”

Her sister put her hands on her hips.  “It’s just one date.  Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky.  Maybe what you need is a night of hot sex to get back on the horse.”

Her face lit up with heat.  “What the fuck, Elsa?  I do not need to hear that coming from my sister.”  Not only that, she did not need a reminder of how awful she was in bed.  It was a constant source of shame that hung over her head.

Elsa gave her a gentle smile.  “Sorry.  I was just trying to make a point.  You have to stop keeping yourself from things that make you happy.  You haven’t even gone to the gym or hung out with your friends since you left your ex.”

“He dumped me, but yeah, I know I haven’t.”

“You need to start living again.”

Anna heaved a deep sigh.  Perhaps it was time.  She’d certainly seen plenty of men who she thought were attractive.  Enough that she’d pleasured herself to the thoughts of being with a man again.  That at least she knew she wasn’t bad at.  In fact, she was practically an expert at getting herself off now. 

“Can I tell my friend yes?”

Anna looked to her sister’s pleading eyes.  “Fine.  One date.”

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

The bar was packed, making it hard for Anna to pick out the man that she was supposed to meet.  She’d been given a general description.  Tall guy, big build, blond…  Anna had formed many mental pictures in her mind of what he might actually look like.

She was told that he’d be somewhere in the bar waiting for her, and every blond Anna looked at seemed to already be on a date or clearly out with a group of friends.  The guy Anna was looking for was supposed to be alone.

She muscled her way to the bar where groups of people were gathered around the stools and talking, waiting on drinks.  Then she spotted a blond man sitting at the end, surrounded by women.  The guy was absolutely huge; his t-shirt stretched tight over his biceps and chest.  And he was gorgeous.  His rugged handsomeness was undeniable.  That was why there were women all over him.

Thinking that couldn’t be her date, Anna went to turn away, when his eyes caught hers and widened with something like recognition.

“Hey, are you Anna?” he called to her over the music and loud conversations

She nodded, not wanting to shout back to him, and he got up from his stool and approached her.  Every single woman he was surrounded by watched all of his movements with lusty interest.

His imposing height loomed over her. “I’m Kristoff,” he said, sticking out his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Anna responded, shaking it and thinking it wasn’t nice at all.  Not after he’d been hanging out with all those stunning women while waiting for her to show up for their date.  What the hell?  Who does that?

“They’re super busy and wouldn’t let me grab a table until you showed up,” he said.

He already sounded bored.  What the hell had Anna gotten herself into.  “Okay.”

Kristoff shrugged and took off to find a table.  Anna followed, kind of hoping they wouldn’t find one.  The guy was clearly someone who could get whoever he wanted and probably often did. 

Towards the back of the bar near the bathrooms, he spied an open table and made a b-line to it.  Anna sat on the stool across from him and put her purse on the edge of the high table.

He smiled.  “It’s quieter over here too.”

There was nothing but cool confidence behind that smile and Anna squirmed again thinking of how many gorgeous women had been salivating over him moments before.  “You sure didn’t waste your time talking to the other ladies, I see.”

He frowned.  “They were talking to me.  I wasn’t talking to them.”

Anna rolled her eyes.  “Sure.  A guy like you must just hate it when women hang all over him.”

His unhappy face turned into a scowl.  “What are you saying?”

“Look, I agreed to go on this date, but not with a player, okay?”

Kristoff became emotionless.  “Have me pegged, do you?” he asked evenly.

Anna could only shrug.  “It’s not that hard to figure out.  The reason a guy who looks like you is single, is that he wants to stay single.”

He stared at her, expression impossible to read.

“Lets just save us both time.  I refuse to be a conquest, so you can just go back to all those ladies at the bar who can barely keep it in their pants.”  Anna got up, keeping her eyes off his unreadable face, feeling relieved.  She didn’t even want to go on this date in the first place.  She was almost glad that this guy, as hot as he was, wasn’t going to work out.

Anna spared him a glance as she turned away and was a little shocked to see profound sadness in his eyes.  It was almost enough for her to turn back around and say something. 

Almost. 

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Anna looked at her ringing phone.  It was Elsa.  She let out a long sigh and answered.  “Hello?”

“What the fuck, Anna?  Why the hell did you brush off that date last night?”

She groaned inwardly.  This was not a conversation she wanted to have.  “He wasn’t my type.”

“Bullshit!  My friend talked to her brother and he told her what you said to him.  That was pretty awful, Anna.”

She frowned.  Had it been?  She was only speaking the truth.  “Well… you didn’t tell me the guy was a total player.”

Elsa huffed with frustration.  “He’s not!  He hasn’t been on a date in a year!”

“Elsa, he had women, and I mean gorgeous women, all over him when I arrived at the bar.”

“And he was what?  Flirting with them?”

Anna thought back to the scene at the bar.  One of the women had her hand on his arm and was talking his ear off, another one giving him fuck me eyes from his other side, two behind him waiting for their turn, and he was… sitting there.  He was staring at something.  Or was it nothing.  Then he’d looked over and his eyes had widened… they kind of looked a little… well at the time it looked like recognition but thinking back, they seemed a little more… relieved?

Anna gasped.  “Oh no, what have I done?”

Her sister sighed.  “Anna, you might need to talk to someone.  I don’t know what Hans did to you, but it was something.   I have doubts that he was never abusive to you even though you assured me that he never was.”

“He said some mean things, Elsa.  That’s all.”  Anna would give her that much, no more.  Not ever.  No one would ever know of her humiliation.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a beat.  “So maybe you said some things you didn’t mean to a nice guy because you are still so scared of putting yourself out there?”

Anna’s stomach rolled with unease to think about the hurtful way she’d brushed Kristoff off.  “Yeah.  I guess I am.”

“Well, at least you can recognise that.”

“Elsa, I feel terrible.  Is there any way I can get his number?  To apologise?”

“Well…I can ask my friend, although I have to warn you, she was pretty pissed that you treated her brother that way.”

“Please try, Elsa.  I feel awful and I need to tell him that I am sorry.”

“Alright.  I’ll call you back in five, okay?”

“Okay.”  Anna hung up the phone and rung it in her hands.  She could not believe she’d been so mean to someone and tears sprung in her eyes.  It made her feel terrible to think she’d said something hurtful to someone.  It reminded her of what her ex had said to her, and that Kristoff guy did not deserve that, even if he was a player.

Her phone rang in her hands and startled her to the point she almost threw it across the room.  “Hello?”

“Okay, I got the number.”

“Oh, thank you, Elsa.  Thank you so much.”  She sniffed.  “And tell your friend-”

“Anna, are you crying?”

She nodded and started to sob.  “I feel so bad, Elsa.  I was so mean to that poor man.  Please tell your friend to tell her brother that I am so sorry and that he can expect me to contact him to say so that I can apologize and-”

“Anna… Anna!”

She sniffed and reigned in her emotions.  This was insane.  She needed to get a grip on herself.  For all those months she carried all that hurt when her ex broke up with her and it was all starting to come out after treating someone else poorly.  It was becoming a little clearer to her that there were some issues she was going to have to deal with, and soon.

“Anna?”

Sniff.  “Yeah?”

“You need to stop beating yourself up about this, okay?”

“What if he doesn’t accept my apology?” Anna asked, wiping her damp cheeks. 

“Well, then I guess you just have to live with it.”

She shoulders slumped, suddenly exhausted.  “Yeah.  I guess I made the bed I have to lie in it.”

Her sister was silent on the other end for a moment.  “Whatever happens, Anna… it’ll be okay.  Everything will be okay.  You’ll have plenty of other chances.”

Anna nodded to herself, steeling her emotions for the text she was about to send.  “I know.  Thank you, Elsa.”

*****

Kristoff looked at the text from the number that he did not know, and set the phone down in contemplation.

He knew it was coming.  His sister had called him and given him the heads up she’d passed his number along to the woman who was so rude to him last night.  To say he was conflicted was an understatement. 

He hadn’t been hurt like that in a while.  Which was weird because he didn’t know this woman.  It was just that she passed him off so easily that it made him second guess himself a bit.  In retrospect, he should have been ruder to the women vying for his attention at the bar.  Why couldn’t this Anna understand that he had absolutely zero interest in them.  Instead, she’d taken one look at him and decided he was one of those pigs that used women as conquests.  And that fucking hurt.

That was why he’d agreed to be set up.  Trying to meet someone on line or even in a club brought out all the wrong kinds of women for him.  He had yet to meet someone that was looking for something serious, not just some fun fling or one night stand. 

He sighed, and read the message again.

Hi Kristoff, this is Anna, the woman who was rude to you last night and who you wish you probably never met.  I need to say that I am sorry for how I acted and what I said to you.  Clearly! I have issues to deal with.  I would hope you have it in your heart to meet me quickly so that I may apologize in person.  If you wish to never talk to me again though, I completely understand.  If I don’t hear back from you in a couple of days, I will assume I have my answer and delete your number.   I am sorry.

It read like an email, and quite frankly a little bit of a cry for help.  He certainly had his own issues, and he could not deny that her acknowledging her own had softened his attitude towards how she had treated him.  It wasn’t like he was exactly innocent of never behaving poorly when he was dealing with things.  When his sister had let him know to expect her to contact him, he just shrugged and assumed he’d delete the message and move on.  Only having read it and its sincerity…

He started typing.

Hi Anna.  Thank you for reaching out.  Please don’t be too hard on yourself.  If you would like to talk, we could meet for a coffee?

He read it three times and hit send before he changed his mind.  He’d just set his phone down when it dinged.

He chuckled.  “That was fast.”

Thank you so much Kristoff!  Would tomorrow work?  I could meet you at 11 at that coffee shop that’s just on the corner of 10th and Elm?

He typed back;

Sure.  See you then

Anna immediately hearted his message and he set his phone down.  He’d been watching the game on TV and he turned his attention back to it, only in the back of his mind he had other thoughts about how seeing this woman again was going to go.

---

Next Chapter

[this-is-krikkit]

here are the (intelligible) notes i jotted down while watching the finale:

if you think i'm gonna buy into that ridiculous arc of "yuuri being all noble and sacrificing his career so that victor can come back and then victor crying his eyes out bc yuuri's telling him he wants to break off their working relationship and that's the last thing he wants and he can't believe yuuri would make that decision without consulting him first because they're a partnership and he can't imagine himself deciding anything without talking to his fiancé mentee friend WHATEVER THEY ARE TO EACH OTHER first"

well, congrats. you were right, and i am in tears.

victor's hand staying put long after yuuri's started sliding away on the ice, like he doesn't want to let go… uggggh, my feels.

sidenote, "i want to kiss your medal" is amongst the greatest gayest subtext i've ever heard, and not to brag but i could probably win gold in a gay subtext contest myself. well fucking played.

i knew he'd nail the quad flip, you knew he'd nail the quad flip, everyone who's watched this anime knew he'd nail that godforsaken quad flip when he set out to do it.

so my question is:

WHY AM I UGLY SOBBING IN UTTER SURPRISE AND JOY THAT HE DID MANAGE TO JUMP IT????

and finally, that ending was the most perfect series ending i've ever seen. the two of them dancing together (WITH THE DAMN RINGS AGAIN AAAAAH) on the ice and living together, knowing what awaits them…… i got literal chills.

this has been a short but intense and wilf fucking ride, that completely took me by surprise with how quickly and easily i fell in love with the characters.

i'm gonna rewatch the shit out of it any chance i get.