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hobipaint · 5 months

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Peppermint Mocha

synopsis: Wanting to break away from the hubbub of the big city life, you decided to return your quaint, tiny town, seeking solitude. However, you meet Hoseok, who seems way more familiar than he should, and your solitary vacation takes a turn - for the better, or for the worse?

genre: fluff

word count: 4.6k

rating: pg13

a/n: A very happy new year, everyone! And especially to the amazing @the-boy-meets-evil - jess, I was so glad I could be your secret santa this year! carol worked hard on her puns hehe :) i hope you enjoyed my asks and this fic! i'm so sorry for the delay in sending out this gift, but i hope you enjoy the extended holiday spirit :) and for everyone reading, I hope you have an amazing 2024!

written for the @kpopsecretsanta secret santa event! | my masterlist

The holidays always went a little too fast for your liking. You didn’t know when it Christmas had come, shown its colours, and left; it felt like yesterday that you were preparing for Halloween. And yet, the wispy bits of fluffy snow falling from the sky said that it had been long since that time. You could feel the frosty bits of snow crunching under your feet as you trudged out of the airport into the lanes of the town.

In the distance, you could see the festive hubbub that surrounded your town - with officials figuring out logistics for lights and trees, vendors setting up their markets and little kids toying about with the snow: everything was exactly the same as you remembered when you had last been here.

“10 years,�� you whispered to yourself, a small smile forming on your lips. “Hello again.”

Your family had once called this town home, back when you and your siblings were young kids. Time had flown away like the little snow flakes did now, and forced you all to move away from your home to build a future of your own. Normally, you would have wanted to be with your friends and family to celebrate the holidays, but something oddly made you want to come back here.

Making sure you had your belongings, you asked around to figure out where your lodge was located, not recognising a lot of the shops that now decorated the streets. Your parents had recommended a lodge they had first stayed in when they came here, one out of two cabins owned by a family friend who had since shifted to New York. They let you rent out one for the holidays, and encouraged you to get acquainted with the stranger who would be renting the other cabin around the same time - “wouldn’t hurt to make a new friend,” they’d said.

A tap on your shoulder broke your reverie. “Y/N?” A voice called behind you, making you turn to face the person in question. Dressed cosily in a green sweater that screamed the holiday spirit with vibrant red hearts and candy canes all over it, it was a man, snowflakes settling in his fluffed up brown hair. He was tall in a way that made you stretch your neck up to look at his big smile, and his eyes had a soft crinkle to them, as if you had just shared a funny anecdote.

“I’m Hoseok,” he mentioned, stretching out a hand. “I figured you’re the other person staying at the Woodson’s cabin, aren’t you?”

You accepted his hand, surprised at the warmth instantly engulfing your frosty fingers. “Yeah, I am. How did you know it was me, though?”

He grinned, tilting his head to look at your heavy bags - as if they were a clear indication. “No one really travels alone with three big bags to this town unless they’re planning a long vacation.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess that kinda gave it away.” You could feel him staring at you as if trying to figure out what kind of a person his neighbour for the next few days was like.

Hoseok flashed a friendly smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve got my car here, so if you don’t mind, we can get to the cabin together? Let me help you with those bags." He effortlessly grabbed two of your heavy bags, leaving you with just one.

“Thank you,” you said, following after him and settling into the warmth of his car. Helping him load your luggage on the car, Hoseok immediately ran off inside the car, immediately cranking the heat on. You couldn’t help but laugh as he gestured for you to come in quickly.

“Not a fan of the cold, I presume?” you asked.

“Brrrr,” he shivered, rubbing his palms together and blowing at them. “I love the aesthetics of cold weather, but absolutely hate the feeling of cold.” Starting the car, he slowly drove out of the parking lot, suddenly grinning to himself. “By the way, Y/N? You haven’t asked me for any proof of who I am,” he hesitated, looking over to you cautiously as if to detect any signs of panic.

You froze at his words, realising his perspective: you had just trusted an absolute stranger and gotten in the car. “Should I be worried, though?” You tried to play it off casually.

“I would suggest being worried, and not being relieved until you were sure I was the right person to approach you,” he said, lips pursed and hands tense on the steering wheel. “I could be really dangerous.”

For some reason, that stunned you, and yet, it made you burst out into laughter.

Hoseok looked at you confused. “What?”

Gasping for breath, you could barely stop your laughter enough to calm Hoseok’s concerned face. “Mrs. Woodson is a family friend, Hoseok. She’d already told me about you, and how you’ve been here for a few weeks at the cabin. I did recognise you a few seconds after you spoke to me.” You grinned. “It would have been concerning if I did blindly trust you and get in the car, though.”

Hseok dramatically breathed out, as if a huge tension had been lifted off of his chest. “Well, at least you knew who I was. Imagine if you didn’t know anyone or anything in this town and got all lost? I would feel terrible.”

You settled into your seat, humming in agreement with him. “I do know this town well enough, though. I have lived here for long enough to know these streets, even if they’re more colourful now than then.”

Hoseok smiled. “Ahh, so you lived here too.”

You turned to him in surprise. “You, too?”

He nodded. “I lived here for some years when I was younger. I don’t have very strong memories of this place here - I moved away with my dad after my parents divorced, you see - and came here only sometimes to visit my mom while she still lived here. And when all my family moved from here, I didn’t really have a reason to come back here as much.” He smiled softly. “But then, I just felt like I wanted to be here this year, alone, yes, but in a place I first started enjoying the holidays.”

You hummed in agreement, understanding the sentiment.

He pointed to the houses you were crossing outside, all cheerfully decorated in lights and decor. ‘I used to rank the houses by their decor every year, and then go to the house I ranked first to tell them that they won,” he said, making you both laugh. “I wonder if the owners are still the same people.”

“I would hope so, too,” you said. “‘My family and I had loads of friends we lost touch with. It would be nice to meet some of them.”

The road to the cabin was a long one, you knew, and yet, you weren’t as bothered about travelling a long distance as you thought you would be. Hoseok’s company and your childhood nostalgia got the best of you, keeping the conversation in good spirits as you made your way to the cabin.

As you climbed the steps up to the Woodson's cabin, Hoseok spoke up, "By the way, if you ever need anything or have any trouble, feel free to knock on my door. We're practically neighbours for the next few days." He knocked at his door jokingly, before showing you into your cabin.

You nodded in gratitude, feeling a sense of warmth in both the gesture and the offer.

The Woodson's cabin was a rustic haven nestled amidst a picturesque snowy landscape. Its exterior, adorned with a glistening layer of snow, exuded a quaint charm that perfectly complemented the festive spirit of the holidays. A trail of footprints led to the wooden porch, where a wreath of pine cones and twinkling lights welcomed visitors.

Upon entering, the warm aroma of burning pine logs greeted you, emanating from a grand fireplace that stood as the heart of the cozy abode. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows on the log walls, revealing a collection of Wooderson family mementoes – framed photographs capturing moments of laughter, family gatherings, and snowy adventures. The memories were frozen in time, a testament to the cabin's rich history and the cherished moments shared by generations past.

The living area featured plush, oversized chairs and a well-worn sofa, adorned with festive throw blankets that beckoned you to sink in and relish the comfort. The windows, framed by heavy curtains, offered panoramic views of the snow-covered landscape, while the soft glow of fairy lights added a touch of enchantment.

In the corner of the cabin, a towering Christmas tree stood adorned with an array of ornaments, casting a festive hue that bathed the room in a warm and inviting light. A quaint dining table, draped with a red-and-green checkered tablecloth, held the remnants of a shared meal, as the remnants of peppermint hot cocoa lingered in the air.

Upon entering, the warm aroma of burning pine logs greeted you, emanating from a grand fireplace that stood as the heart of the cosy abode. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows on the log walls, revealing a collection of Wooderson family mementoes – framed photographs capturing moments of laughter, family gatherings, and snowy adventures. You could spot your family and more familiar faces in the frames: the memories were frozen in time, a testament to the cabin's rich history and the cherished moments shared by generations past.

The living area featured plush, oversized chairs and a well-worn sofa adorned with festive throw blankets that beckoned you to sink in and relish the comfort. The windows, framed by heavy curtains, offered panoramic views of the snow-covered landscape, while the soft glow of fairy lights added a touch of enchantment.

In the corner of the cabin, a towering Christmas tree stood adorned with an array of ornaments, casting a festive hue that bathed the room in a warm and inviting light. A quaint dining table, draped with a red-and-green checkered tablecloth adorned the center of the cabin as the fragrance of toasted peppermint lingered in the air.

Hoseok bashfully scratched his head. “I may or may not have used your stove to make myself some Christmassy drinks.”

You grinned. “Was it something with peppermint?”

“How did you know?” Hoseok asked, nodding in agreement as he stacked the washed and dried mug back in the cabinet. “I’ve always loved a good old mint flavoured drink, and ‘tis the season for peppermint, isn’t it?”

Seeing your vigorous agreement, Hoseok offered to whip up a drink for you while you settled your belongings in the cabin.

“I’ll start the fireplace,” Hoseok called after you, busying away in the hall while you made your way to the bedroom.

It felt like ages since you had sat by yourself, giving yourself time to do nothing.

After you had moved away from your hometown, your life had been consumed with racing against the clock. With all your hardwork, you had been successful in your education, your career, and you had a place that you called your own. And yet, there were barely moments where you got to enjoy the time you so rightfully deserved to give yourself. Running around to prove yourself had only made you deprive yourself of your own time, seldom finding it in your busy hubbub.

And now, as you overlooked the snow-laden mountains, with the town distantly coloured in a warm hue, you felt your shoulders melt into a more carefree, comfortable posture. You deserved this, you thought to yourself. It was more than worth it to come here, all alone, and enjoy one vacation in solidarity. You deserved the time all to yourself.

And plus, Hoseok’s here for company, you added, feeling more and more resolute in your decision to take a break from the festive season.

“This tastes really good, and I say that as someone who barely drinks coffee,” you hummed, hands wrapping around the warm mug that Hoseok handed to you.

He occupied the other end of the sofa, matching mug in his hands, crossing his legs comfortably. “That’s mainly because of the peppermint, Y/N. It adds a sense of uniqueness to the otherwise common coffee and elevates it.” You giggled at his narration as he indicated to his mug as if pitching a billion-dollar idea.

“I noticed you like peppermints a lot,” you said, sipping away at the drink. “I like them too, but it is rare to find a fellow lover.”

“Oh, I love them!” Hoseok beamed eagerly. “Peppermint mochas are probably my favourite thing to make over the holidays. It is the only time of the year where it tastes just right and fits in, you know?”

“My family used to make peppermint-infused hot chocolate,” you grinned. “It used to taste amazing.”

As the crackling fire painted a warm ambience across the cabin, a subtle wave of nostalgia washed over you. The flickering flames seemed to dance in sync with the memories of holidays long gone, reminding you of the lively chaos that filled your childhood home during this time of year.

Hoseok, sensing a shift in your demeanour, looked at you with understanding eyes. "Something on your mind, Y/N?" he asked, the glow from the fireplace casting a gentle warmth on his features.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, "It's just that... well, I miss my family. The holidays were always about being together; this year, being here alone feels different. I mean, it's wonderful to be back in this town, but the absence of their laughter and the familiar holiday chaos is hard to ignore."

Hoseok nodded empathetically, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I get that. Family has a way of making this time of year special. Maybe we can bring a little bit of that magic here. What's something your family always did during the holidays?"

As you shared tales of your family's traditions, Hoseok listened attentively. You don’t know when you two had started shifted closer, but soon enough, you and Hoseok were slapping each other on the arms while laughing away at old, embarrassing childhood stories.

“I can’t believe you would do that!” you laughed, wiping a tear away from your eyes. Hoseok chuckled at your state.

“Well, its at least better than when my family paraded me as baby Jesus on Halloween - my neighbour’s kid actually thought I was him,” he added, making you laugh even more.

Outside, you could see the snow settling up higher and higher, and soon you and Hoseok decided to bid goodbye for the night. While walking him out, you chatted about more anecdotes from your time in this town - and you found yourself thinking, this vacation isn’t off to a bad start at all.

Just before saying your goodbyes, Hoseok's eyes caught something above the door – a delicate mistletoe, adorned with tiny white berries, hung there as if placed by some unseen holiday fairy. A mischievous glint sparkled in Hoseok's eyes as he gently pointed upward.

"Well, look what we have here," he remarked with a playful grin, drawing your attention to the festive foliage above.

Your gaze followed his, and a soft gasp escaped your lips as you realized the implication. The air seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, and a warm flush crept up your cheeks. Hoseok, with a charming smile, took a step closer, the glow of the cabin's lights framing his silhouette against the snowy backdrop.

"Tradition dictates that if two people find themselves beneath mistletoe, they share a kiss," Hoseok said, his voice low and filled with a playful warmth. “Unless they both don’t consent, of course.”

You hesitated, before responding. “I’m single, so - unless you don’t want to -”

Before you could fully complete your words, Hoseok leaned in, closing the gap between you. Time seemed to slow as his lips met yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, capturing the essence of the winter night and the enchantment that hung in the air. The snowflakes continued their silent descent around you, adding a touch of whimsy to the unexpected yet welcomed moment.

As his lips parted from yours, you could feel the frosty snow take away his warmth, and you oddly wanted nothing more to pull him back and kiss him.

But he was already walking away, promising to see you the next day. “See you tomorrow, beautiful."

The mistletoe kiss had cast a spell, and the days that followed became a tapestry woven with the threads of shared laughter and newfound connection. The town, now dressed in the shimmering aftermath of Christmas, beckoned the two of you to explore its post-celebration charm.

In the heart of the town, where the streets turned into a canvas painted with the hues of festive lights, you couldn't help but marvel at the lively holiday market. "It's like walking into a snow globe," you mused, the twinkling lights reflecting in her eyes.

Hoseok grinned, the glow of the lights accentuating the warmth in his eyes. "A magical snow globe where every shop is a treasure trove waiting to be discovered."

The vendors, like holiday artisans, showcased their creations with pride. Hoseok found himself drawn to a quaint bakery where the scent of peppermint-infused pastries lingered in the air. "I can almost taste the nostalgia in these," he remarked, savoring a bite of a holiday treat.

You chuckled, a melody that harmonized with the festive ambience. "Nostalgia is the secret ingredient that makes everything here taste like a piece of childhood."

As you both strolled through the town square, the ice-skating rink unfolded like a winter dreamscape. People of all ages took advantage of the icy wonderland, gliding and playing around on the ice. "Care to join me?" Hoseok extended his hand, the invitation echoing your kiss from a few nights ago.

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. “As long as you don’t make me fall,” you remarked, making him laugh.

Evenings were a journey through the luminous streets, where each step resonated with shared stories and whispered dreams. The glow of holiday lights reflected in his eyes as they approached midnight. Hoseok, holding Y/N close, whispered against the backdrop of fireworks, "Here's to new beginnings."

It was almost as if the post-Christmas festivities had turned the town into a living storybook, with Hoseok and you as its protagonists. The holiday magic lingered in the air, blending seamlessly with the enchanting connection that unfolded like the turning pages of a heartwarming tale.

A chilly onslaught broke the rather pleasant dream you were having. Groggily, you woke up, wrapping the blanket around you strongly to block out the sudden rush of iciness. The fireplace weakly flickered, and you could hear the howling winds outside as a storm built up.

Not knowing what to do, you decided your best option was probably to try to revive the fireplace and whip up something warm for yourself. You poked at the fire, but it seemed like it wouldn’t revive at all. As the firewood dwindled and the flames grew weaker, the bitter cold of the snowstorm seeped into the cabin, chilling the air and turning every breath into a visible mist. Despite your best efforts, the fire refused to revive, leaving you shivering and desperate for warmth.

“I did come here to be alone, but this is not what I envisioned,” you laughed to yourself, hugging your blanket tighter.

Your phone was not getting any network, so you hoped that Hoseok would somehow be awake at 2 AM. Bundling yourself up to the best of your abilities, you set out to his side of the cabin, knocking at his door as loudly as you could.

A few minutes later, a rather disgruntled Hoseok appeared at the door. “Is everything okay?” he rasped, hair awry and clothes haphazardly pulled on.

“I think my heating is broken, and the fire isn’t reviving, either.” You explained.

“Ahh.” Hoseok welcomed you in his cabin - a near mirror image of your one - and let you settle up on the couch while he volunteered to check on your heating system.

While Hoseok busied himself outside, you noticed how tidy Hoseok had kept the cabin. There were more photos here - though you could only recognise a few faces - and a few more albums, stacked on the table next to the fireplace. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to peruse through one of them, immediately finding pictures of people from your neighbourhood celebrating Christmas together. On some pages, you could find your own parents smiling back at you, with your siblings holding hands with the other kids from the neighbourhood and singing carols captured in a faded photo.

To your surprise, you stumbled upon a faded photograph of two young kids, clutching a bag of peppermints, wearing matching grins.

Hoseok stepped in at that time, and yet, in your shock, you could barely register any of the words he was saying.

"Hoseok, is this...?" you began, showing him the picture.

He glanced over and chuckled. "Yeah, that's me, and my neighbour’s kid. We used to be quite the troublemakers when our families spent holidays here together."

You smiled. “Do you know where this kid is now?”

“No,” he said, sadly. “I wish I did, though. We used to be best friends when we were younger, literally joined at the hip, but didn’t really stay in touch after I left. I sometimes do wonder about her.”

You held the picture up to your face, making Hoseok face you. “Don’t you think something about us looks similar?”

Hoseok frowned, judging the faded Kodak with your beaming face. “You do have the same eyes, now that you say it. She had very pretty eyes.”

“Do you not remember her name?” You asked.

“We would call each other with nicknames,” Hoseok said, dusting the snow off his hair. “I used to call her Bunny, and she used to call me-”

“Hobi,” you completed, eyes gleaming.

Hoseok looked stunned. “Yeah, that’s what she called me. How did you know that?”

You laughed at his oblivion. “Because I am Bunny, silly.”

“Wha-oh?” Hoseok exclaimed, bracing himself as you rushed to hug your childhood best friend. “Are you serious?”

“I am,” you convinced him, finding it just as hard to believe as him. I mean, you don’t come to a cabin on the outskirts of the town looking for solitude only to bump into your childhood best friend again, do you?

Hoseok pulled away from you, gripping your shoulders and letting his eyes take in every part of you - as if he were meeting you for the first time again. “I can’t believe it is you.”

“Me neither,” you said, as you kissed his cheek. “It has been far too long, Hobi.”

Hoseok's astonishment lingered in the air as you both navigated the surprising reunion. The faded photograph, a relic of childhood mischief, lay forgotten on the table, replaced by the incredulous exchange between Bunny and Hobi after years of separation.

The cabin, with its walls echoing with the laughter of yesteryears, seemed to encase the timeless connection that had just resurfaced. Hoseok's eyes remained fixed on you, his disbelief slowly giving way to the realization that the Bunny he once knew was standing right in front of him.

As the shock settled, you couldn't help but laugh at the sheer serendipity of the moment. "I never imagined I'd find Bunny and Hobi reunited in a cabin on the outskirts of town," you remarked, a playful gleam in your eyes.

Hoseok joined in your laughter, the familiarity of shared memories weaving a comforting thread between you. "It's like a plot from a nostalgic movie," he added, shaking his head in amazement.

The two of you, now seated on the sofa, exchanged stories of the years that had passed, bridging the gap between then and now. The cabin, a silent witness to the unravelling narrative, seemed to cradle the essence of your rekindled friendship.

As the night wore on, and the snowstorm outside intensified, the cosy cabin transformed into a haven against the wintry tempest. Hoseok, ever thoughtful, stoked the fireplace, the flames casting a warm glow on the shared stories and laughter.

The sofa, now an island in the sea of nostalgia, beckoned both of you to its comforting embrace. The flickering flames, the snowstorm outside, and the whispers of shared memories paved the way for an unspoken understanding.

"You know," Hoseok began, his tone gentle, "it feels like we never really left those days behind. Just picked up where we left off."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of belonging that transcended time. "It's like we're continuing a story that got interrupted."

As the night deepened, the warmth of the cabin and the shared connection became a refuge from the cold. The sofa, once a witness to the nostalgia of the past, now cradled the reunion of Bunny and Hobi.

Hoseok, looking at you with a softness in his eyes, spoke words that resonated with the atmosphere of the cabin. "I'm glad you found your way back, Bunny."

You leaned in, your shoulders brushing against each other, and whispered, "Me too, Hobi. Me too."

The flickering flames painted a dance on the log walls, casting shadows that seemed to waltz in rhythm with your shared laughter. The coziness of the cabin, the gentle snowstorm outside, and the rekindled friendship all merged into a symphony of comfort.

In the hushed moments that followed, the realization dawned that sleep was claiming its territory. The sofa, now transformed into a shared haven, invited both of you to surrender to its embrace.

"You know, Hobi," you said, your voice a sleepy murmur, "I never thought I'd find such warmth in the midst of a snowstorm."

Hoseok chuckled, the sound a gentle melody. "Maybe the storm outside brought us the warmth we didn't know we needed."

And so, amidst the crackling fire and the distant howl of the snowstorm, you and Hoseok snuggled closer, finding solace in the shared warmth. The flickering flames painted a canvas of comfort, casting a soft glow on your intertwined fingers.

And then, as if the universe had orchestrated the moment, your gaze met Hoseok's, and in that shared glance, a silent understanding bloomed. With a tenderness that mirrored the nostalgia of rediscovery, your lips met in a gentle kiss, sealing the night with a promise of new beginnings. The flickering flames seemed to dance in celebration, casting a warm glow on the cabin, now a witness to your reunion.

As sleep began to weave its tranquil spell, Hoseok whispered, "I’m so glad I met you again, Bunny."

You smiled, the words a gentle echo in the cozy cabin. "I’m so grateful, Hobi."

While your previous year left much to be forgotten, it seemed that this year had begun with the embrace of an unexpected reunion, the flickering flames and the snowstorm outside bearing witness to the rekindling of a friendship that time had only strengthened. In the arms of the cabin, beneath the quilt of shared memories, you and Hoseok surrendered to the tranquility of the night, finding peace in the warmth of each other's presence.

If you made it till here, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed the fic - i would love to hear from you about it! love, hazel <3

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joyful-enchantress · 2 years

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Evergreen | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: Hello! Enjoy this festive drabble that I wrote for @fictive-sl0th as part of the Secret Santa fic exchange that she so graciously organized. This can be read alone, but could also be considered a companion to I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k (I know, I know... not technically a drabble)

Christmas Eve.

It was a special day for you and Loki -- it was the day he finally asked to court you after more than a year of relentlessly flirting with each other and finding every excuse to be together.

As you reminisced, you absent-mindedly reached your delicate fingers up to toy with the emerald pendant resting against your collarbone; Loki had gifted it to you this very night two years ago, when you both came to your senses and freed the feelings you had been harboring for each other for so long. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips at the memory. He was your best friend. Your soulmate. Your person.

As always, you and Loki were planning to do your gift exchange for each other tonight, in the privacy of his own quarters. It was one of your favorite traditions you had begun with him, and it gave the two of you time to yourselves, away from the hubbub that inevitably would come tomorrow with Christmas Day in the Avengers Tower.

To celebrate the two years that you and Loki have been officially together, you wanted to do something special. For his gift this year, you had designed and ordered a custom Movado watch for him. The timepiece boasted a two-tone wrist strap of shining silver and yellow gold; the signature 12 o’clock dot and slender hands were cast in yellow gold, and set inside the golden case was the most stunning emerald green dial. On the back of the case you had engraved: The time I spend with you will never be enough. I love you, Loki. It was sleek, elegant, and beautiful — just like him.

The time came for you to head to Loki’s and you could barely contain your excitement; you restlessly bounced and rocked on the balls of your feet as you waited for the elevator to arrive on his floor. The gift box in your hands — blanketed in sleek black wrapping paper and tied off with a glittering emerald green ribbon — complemented your outfit perfectly. A skin-tight black turtleneck was tucked into a tea-length satin skirt of the richest emerald. Your look was completed with sparkling gold heels and, of course, your necklace.

The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival, and you rushed out and nearly skipped the whole way to his door. Before you could even knock, the door swung open, revealing the object of all your love, adoration, and desire.

“Loki…” you breathed. You would never tire of laying eyes on him — each time you did, it felt like the first. His raven curls were neatly slicked back, framing his perfect, angular face. He flashed you a beaming smile and his emerald eyes were alight with excitement and adoration. He was dressed to the nines, in his go-to all-black suit and tie combo, the tie clip you gifted him two years ago displayed proudly against his chest, the single emerald on it glittering when it caught the light. He was beautiful. And he was yours.

"Darling," he returned, "You look absolutely stunning." As he said it, he took your face in his hands and lowered his face to yours, meeting your lips in the most sensual kiss. It was slow and gentle, but there was an urgency to it, as if he might never get to kiss you again. Was he nervous about something?

"Merry Christmas and Happy Anniversary, Lohks. I've been looking forward to seeing you all day."

"As have I, my love. Every moment I'm not with you seems to drag on for eternity," he whispered against your lips. "Happy Anniversary and Merry Christmas, Y/N"

Once you peeled yourselves away from each other and made your way inside his quarters, you placed the gift box under the tree, and you noticed that it was the only one there. That's strange, you briefly thought to yourself for a passing moment, but there were more important matters at hand -- such as the devastatingly good-looking god sitting on the couch waiting for you to join him. You sat down together and enjoyed the hot cocoa he had made, complete with marshmallows and peppermint sticks.

"You're certainly dressed up this year, Loki. I mean, you always look dashingly handsome, of course, but a full suit and tie this year? I'm a lucky lady," you smirked at him.

He chuckled at your remark. God how you loved his laugh. "I wanted to brandish the exquisite gift you bestowed on me two years ago, darling," he explained while gesturing to the tie clip. "And that required wearing a tie. Plus," he continued, looking directly into your eyes, "this is a rather special day, as it marks two years that we've been together romantically. And I couldn't be happier, Y/N."

"Neither could I," you sighed contentedly.

As you sipped your hot cocoa, chatting and sharing the occasional chocolate-laced kiss, Christmas music was softly playing in the background. Everything was perfect in this moment.

"Well, darling, shall we exchange gifts then, before we get too lost in each other to remember or care?" he asked as he brushed his nose against your neck.

"Yes!" you exclaimed as you popped up from the couch and began walking towards the tree to retrieve his gift, blabbering on as you did. "Oh, Loki, I'm so excited for you to open yours, I really hope you like it. I wanted to do something a bit more special this year and --"

You were cut off mid-sentence and your jaw went slack at the sight before you as you turned around, Loki's watch box clasped tightly in your hand. Your best friend and lover was down on one knee, holding in his hands a small box that contained the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen. The ring had a twisted band of both platinum and yellow gold. The platinum parts of the twist were encrusted with emeralds, and led directly to the center stone -- a sparkling princess cut diamond -- where they formed a loose halo.

You gasped, speechless, as you approached him.

"Y/N, darling, I love you with everything that I am, and I toiled for weeks, endeavoring to come up with the perfect way to propose to you. Since you are deserving of all the Nine Realms, I wanted to make sure my proposal was lavish enough to reflect that. But then, I realized, there is nothing flashy or performative about our love. Our love is real, it is steadfast, and it is something that comes along once in a generation. It is timeless and beautiful to behold, without even trying. So here I am, in the one place we spend the most time together -- the place where we have shared the most treasured memories and sweet nothings -- asking you to spend the rest of your life with me. Y/N, will you do me the undeniable honor of becoming my wife?"

Tears of joy sprang from your eyes as you listened to him. You couldn't believe it. This was really happening.

"Of course I will," you managed to speak, "Yes, Loki, I'll marry you!"

At your words, he rose from his feet and placed the gorgeous ring on your left ring finger. Looking at him, you would have thought he had just conquered all Nine Realms, with the way his chest swelled with pride and his eyes swam with unshed tears of awe and adoration -- for you.

He wrapped you in a warm embrace and kissed you with more fire and passion than ever before, his soft lips moving against yours in a dance of celebratory ownership. Gone was the urgency from earlier; he was able to take his time now, knowing that you agreed to remain his for all your days.

You would happily don his colors forever. Ever his. Evergreen.

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

A/N: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! The 3-word prompt I was given to write towards was "Christmas Eve proposal" Many thanks to @fictive-sl0th for the prompt, for organizing this Secret Santa event, and for allowing me to participate, even though I was a late submission. You are a gem.

If you would like to see pictures of the watch and the ring from this fic, I have included them below.

#secret santa #loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki fluff #loki x reader fluff #loki x you fluff #loki x female!reader #loki x fem!reader #loki x female reader #fluffy #christmas #christmas eve #holiday fic #loki fic #loki marvel #mcu loki

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

Text

This evening has been so very nice

AN: Hello folks! After the chaos of Kinktober I’ve been taking a little break, but also working on this for the Thot Neighbourhood Discord Server Secret Santa.

I drew @yarnforbrains - I hope you enjoy this, my darling Dani. This is my first time writing for the Moon Knight boys, so I hope I did them justice.

My prompts were Winter Wonderland, Lyrics from 'Baby it's cold outside' and a picture from a German Christmas Market.

NB- I have no experience with people with DID, but did a load of reading from this website

Beta’d by @sidepartskinnyjeans, Spanish help from @aquariusbarnes

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Moodboard by me

Masterlist

Relationships: Steven Grant x plus sized Reader, Marc Spector x plus sized Reader and Jake Lockley x plus sized Reader

Word count: 4k

CW: Fluff, drinking, PDA, explicit sexual content (Oral - F receiving, Rough PinV sex, unprotected sex, cum eating), swearing.

You hurried through the dark streets, your scarf flapping around your neck and your bobble hat pulled down tight on your head. As much as you loved this time of year, sometimes the cold got too much, even for you. However, you could almost feel the Christmas cheer seeping into you as you neared your destination, and therefore your boyfriend. Or was it boyfriends? You’d admit you still had a lot to learn about dating multiple members of a DID system.

The lights ahead of you were bright and you couldn’t help but smile as you walked into the hubbub of the German Christmas themed farmer’s market. Alongside the usual stalls selling honey, vegetables and homemade items there were gaily decorated huts selling mulled wines and ciders, strong german beers, bratwurst and an array of sweet treats. Lights were strung everywhere, carols played over speakers and children squealed as they went round and round on the vintage style carousel. You felt as though you’d stepped into a winter wonderland.

You turned in a circle, taking it all in, but also trying to find your boyfriend in the crowd, a near impossible feat it seemed. Pulling out your phone, you checked your messages, but there wasn’t a new one indicating where you should meet. With a small huff, you decided he could come to you. However, just as you were about to press send on your message for him to meet you in front of the singing moose, a pair of hands covered your eyes from behind.

“Oi-oi, saveloy!”

You spun around with a squeal and threw your arms around his neck.

“Steven!”

You were happy to see the mild mannered alter. He was always so sweet to you. You pressed a kiss to his lips and smiled as a blush made its way up his neck and onto his cheeks. He got embarrassed easily with public displays of affection stronger than hand holding. It was cute.

“So you’re my date this evening then?”

“Yes. Well at the moment, anyhow. The lads and I had a chat and divvied up the night, so to speak…” He stopped speaking suddenly, looking at you earnestly, head tilted slightly to the side. “ I mean, if that’s okay with you?”

You beamed at him, cupping his face and rubbing your nose against his.

“It sounds great. Now, where are we off to first?” Steven twined your fingers together, kissed your knuckles and with a smile dragged you towards the carousel.The pair of you laughed and squealed just like the children from earlier as you bobbed up and down on your horses as the ride spun round and round.The cheerful organ music reminded you of the Christmas’ of your childhood, but the thing that made you giggle the most was Steven trying to get on and then off his horse, sliding on the smooth surface. He was adorably clumsy sometimes.

After the carousel you walked around the food stalls, your head leaning on Steven’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne. There was more laughter between you as you both chose foot long german sausages that hung out of the bun at each end, setting off immature fits of giggles from you both. It was impractical to eat them as you walked, so you managed to find a space in one of the market shelters, set up with trash cans and perching stools.

You both chatted about your days as you ate, taking it in turns to lean over and wipe mustard and ketchup off each other’s cheeks. When you sucked a bit of sauce off your thumb you saw a flash in his eye, which made you smile even more. While Steven looked quiet and demure from the outside, you knew how he could get if the mood took him. Although, that flash could easily have been either Marc or Jake coming briefly to the surface.

Napkins and cardboard trays thrown in the trash, you grabbed Steven’s hand.

“Let’s look at the stalls. I saw some cute wooden ornaments, and some snow globes.”

“Whatever you want, babes. Your wish is my command.” He made a dramatic bow in front of you, like a fairy tale prince, and you giggled once again. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve such a handsome, sweet guy like Steven, but you thanked the universe daily.

After some retail therapy, where you’d managed to pick up a few gifts for family members, Steven steered you towards the sideshows.

“I’m sure you’ll have fun and excel at these, babes, but they’re not really my forte. Hate to love you and leave you.” He leant forward and pressed his lips to yours, in a soft and sweet kiss.

When the pressure against your mouth hardened slightly, becoming less sweet and more spicy, you knew that Marc had made his appearance.

Stepping back, you looked up into his eyes. Marc was ‘harder’ around the edges than Steven. He stood straighter, with more confidence in both his body and expression. Reaching into the inner pocket of his coat, he pulled out a baseball cap and set it atop his head, before sliding his arms around your waist and smiling down at you.

“Hey, baby. Have fun with Steven?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m all shopped out and full of hotdog, but if you wanted to win me the giant teddy bear, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Consider it won, Angel.”

He led you over to one of the stalls, a shooting game with battered bb rifles chained to the counter. The targets, bobbing up and down, and moving side to side at the back, were elves peeking out of boxes and reindeer flying across the sky. There were even a pair of black boots moving up and down out of a fake chimney.

Handing over some cash to the stall owner, Marc picked up one of the rifles with cocky assurance, flashing you a grin, before tucking the stock up against his shoulder. He watched the motion of the targets for a few moments, getting a feel for the pattern and speed. With a squeeze of the trigger a spherical piece of metal flew across the space and landed with a ‘thunk’... three inches to the right of the target. You tried, and failed, to suppress a giggle as Marc scowled, looking over the rifle with a huff. Then, without a word, he raised it up again and let of a series of shots across the target area, the chimes of metal hitting metal ringing out one after the other, much to the frustration of the stall holder. You squealed and bounced on your toes as the massive polar bear wearing a santa hat was begrudgingly handed over. Leaning across the huge stuffy, you pressed kisses all over Marc’s cheeks and lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

His arms went around your waist and he spun you around until you were both dizzy and laughing, uncaring about the spectacle you were creating. Eventually Marc slowed you down and pulled you into a short, but deep, kiss that left you both breathless.

“Come on, Angel. Let’s check out the other games.”

The pair of you laughed as you played ‘hook a duck’, then skeeball and then failed abysmally at the ring toss.

“I’m sure it’s rigged,” Marc grumbled. You silently agreed with him. It was unlikely that your highly trained boyfriend couldn’t beat a fair version. “Let’s go sit and get a drink instead. I think there’s a mulled wine and cider shack around the corner.”

“There’s an idea I can get behind. Lead the way, my Prince of sideshows.”

The temperature had dropped over the last hour and you could feel the cold burning at your nose and cheeks, so when the pair of you made your way into the brightly lit, wooden bar, you let out a sigh of relief. The small space was crowded with other market patrons and you were grateful for Marc’s presence, as you squeezed through the press of bodies, along with your bear and shopping bags, to get to a small table in the corner.

“Sit tight, sweetheart and I’ll be back.”

The smile he flashed you made your heart jump and your core pulse. As you watched him walk off to the bar, unashamedly watching his ass inside his slacks, an electronic squeal caught your attention. In the other corner of the bar was a small raised stage, with a couple of microphones, speakers and a large monitor; a karaoke set up. A pair of giggling blonde girls were making their way up onto the dais, talking to the man who appeared to be in charge. What occurred next was what could only be described as two cats screeching along to the backing track of Whitney Houston’s ‘I’m Every Woman’. Marc returned to your table part way through the rendition, placing the steaming glass mug in front of you, the red, fragrant liquid with bits of orange peel floating in it, sloshing gently. You cupped it in your hands, warming them on it and inhaling the heady scent of red wine, spices and citrus.

Marc’s foot toyed with yours under the table, and despite the caterwauling you could feel the romance. You were so lucky that you’d been able form such strong relationships with both of Marc’s main alters. It made all your lives much easier, having those connections, with none of them feeling guilty if they appeared unplanned; you loved them all equally.

The atmosphere, and the second cup of wine, lulled you into relaxation and you knew you had a dopey, slightly buzzed look on your face. You pulled his hand across the table, turning it so it was palm up. With your index finger you started to trace patterns across his skin.

“Marc…” You let out a dramatic, needy whine. A wry smile spread on his face as he looked at you.

“Yes, Angel?”

“Come sing with me. I wanna do karaoke. We’d be so much better than these guys.”

He rolled his eyes, but you knew he’d say yes. He always indulged you, and you weren’t above taking advantage of that once in a while.

His hand tightened on yours and pulled you to your feet.

“Come on then - do you know which song you want to do?”

You nodded in reply, your lower lip pulled between your teeth, as you both made your way to the stage. As Marc sorted out the microphones you gave your song request to the DJ. With your performance confirmed you moved to stand next to Marc, taking one of the microphones from him and looping your free arm through his. The short piano intro played and you saw a smile of recognition on your boyfriend’s face, before you breathily sung your first line.

“I really can’t stay…”

Marc didn’t miss a beat before leaning towards you, crooning.

“But, Baby, it’s cold outside…”

“I’ve got to go away…”

“But, Baby it’s cold outside…”

His voice was deep and velvety, a soft caress across your soul. His eyes bored into yours, and you were helpless to look away as you sang to each other. You weren’t sure when it happened, but at some point during the song the playful lightness decreased and the banked heat between you began to rise. When your voices came together in a final, synchronous crescendo you didn’t know if your racing heartbeat was due to the unaccustomed effort of singing or because your mind was already imagining all the things that Marc would do to you when you got back to your apartment. You didn’t notice the applause and cheers from the audience in the wine shack, because all there was was Marc, the way his arm was around your waist, his eyes locked on yours, his breath warm on your lips…

The world lurched as he dipped you, pressing his mouth to yours and kissing you with unreserved passion. You returned the kiss, forgetting for a moment that you were in public, and not in either of your apartments. However, before you could embarrass yourself any further, Marc pulled back, his dark eyes filled with lust. Whoops and hollers surrounded you, but you just blinked at him, slightly dazed.

“Let’s get outta here, Angel. I’ll just get your bags.” Marc dashed away to collect your things from the table, and you passed the microphones back to the grinning DJ, your face heated. You were glad for the warmth flooding your body as you stepped back out into the cold air, Marc holding your bags and with his body almost pressed up against your back. You quickly re-wrapped your scarf and jammed your hat on your head, before grabbing one of the bags from Marc so you could slip your hand in his. He grinned, a devilish smile lighting up his face before he practically dragged you out of the market and towards the main road.

With a shrill whistle, which pierced the night air like a stiletto knife, he’d hailed a cab and hustled you inside it. He rattled off your address to the cabby, and then he was kissing you again. The bags and the teddy were jammed against your legs, and your big coat, scarf and hat were getting in the way, but you didn’t care. You didn’t recall much of the ride, nor getting through your door, other than the rush to shed your outer clothes and kick off your shoes. You did register the moment your back bounced off the hallway wall as Marc steered you down it towards your bedroom, as you chuckled into his kiss and he growled back comically.

You both fell to the bed in a tangle, but working together to remove all and any clothes between you. You moaned as Marc’s lips fastened over one of your nipples, sucking the swollen flesh in to his mouth. At the same time one of his hands roamed over your soft body, stroking you and slowly making his way between your thighs.

Those deft fingers found their way without hesitation between your folds, spreading your wetness before teasing your clit into a firm peak. He teased it mercilessly, stroking and caressing it, giving it light pinches that made lightning dart across your vision, as his mouth swapped between your lush breasts, worshipping them.

“Marc!” You cried out his name as a plea, a plea for more. He lifted his head and you looked at him, glassy eyed, taking in the mess of his hair where you’d been gripping it without realising. He grinned once more, travelling down your body.

His lips kissed, sucked and nipped at your skin, leaving small marks in their wake. He saved the strongest bite for when he reached your hip. You’d realised early on in your relationship that it was one of Marc’s particular quirks; he loved the softness of your hips. How when he gripped them your flesh spilt between his fingers. How they held the evidence of his passion for you. He loved to decorate them with bite marks, finger marks, hickeys. When Stephen saw the mottled blemishes he’d stroke them gently and ask if you wanted him to apply ointment. When Jake saw them he’d just snort knowingly and grin.

When your lover was level with the apex of your plump thighs, the hand that had been teasing you left you so he could push your legs further apart, hooking your knees over his shoulders. Without preamble he fastened his lips to your core, drinking from it as though you alone could slake his thirst. He pulled moans and cries from your throat as you fisted the sheets, already hurtling towards your orgasm. His fingers joined his mouth and tongue, delving into your wet heat, stroking you, stretching you. Shivers raced over your heated skin, the way you were dragging air into your lungs leaving you dizzy. The force of Marc’s lovemaking never failed to leave you startled.

You came with a scream, open-mouthed and uninhibited, uncaring that Mrs Smith next door would probably shoot you daggers in the morning. Marc’s arm clamped across your abdomen, holding you to him as he continued to feast, drawing out every tremble, every whimper from your body, until you went loose and lax beneath him.

“Fuuuuuuck…”

You lay, dazed on the bed as Marc kissed his was back up you. You felt him smile against your skin until he was finally eye level with you again and you gave him a breathy smile before drawing him close and kissing him, deeply.

“I love you, Angel. I could spend all night dragging those noises from you and be satisfied. But a bit like the Ghost of Christmas Present, my time with you for the evening is almost over.”

In your lust addled state, you’d almost forgotten about Jake. You were torn. You didn’t want Marc to go, but it had been a while since you’d spent the night with the most reclusive off the alters, and had to admit the thought of it was exciting. Where Marc made love, Jake fucked. He fucked hard and feral. He left you aching after for days in the most delicious way.

Marc could obviously see the indecision in your expression.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m only a tiny bit jealous. I’m sure I’ll see you again tomorrow at some point, and I wouldn’t have missed out on our evening for anything.”

He kissed you again, his passion almost overwhelming. The hands around you tightened, the firm body rolling to be fully on top of you, leaving you in no doubt who was in charge. Jake had arrived.

You knew he was the most dangerous of your boys, birthed in the darkest moments of Marc’s army career; A way for his mind to cope with horrors he’d not only seen, but had to carry out.

As he raised his head you saw his hard eyes looking at you like a wolf looked at his prey. A shiver of anticipation racked your body.

“Buenas noches, mi cielo”

You dug your nails into his shoulder blades and nipped at his stubbled jaw.

“Hi, Jakey. Long time, no see.”

He shrugged a little, as if to say it was no big deal.

“No, don’t be like that.” You moved your hands to cup his face and force him to look at you. “You ever need me, I’m here. You matter as much as the others. I love you as much as the others. You don’t need to hide from me.”

“No me escondo, mujer.”

“Well then turn up more often for me then. Cos now you’re here…” your lips travelled up to his ear lobe and gave it a sharp tug with your teeth. “I need you to fuck me. Fuck me, Jake. Let’s fuck off Mrs Smith like we’ve never fucked her off before.”

His eyes narrowed, but before you had a chance to wonder what he was planning, you found yourself flipped onto your stomach, your hips yanked up, and a strong calloused hand on the back of your neck, pressing your cheek into the coverlet.

“¡Mantente abajo!”

“Not like I can go anywhere with you pinning me like… oh god!” Your snarky retort was cut short as Jake pushed three of his fingers into you without warning.

“Marc got you so wet, mi amor.”

Fuck, you loved his accent.

He pumped his wrist, and although you couldn’t see his face you could imagine him looking at your stuffed pussy, watching your juices, which you could hear squelching lewdly, spill out around his digits and run down your thighs. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he curled them, the most indelicate sound making its way past your lips.

“That’s it, cariño, be loud for me. Let the whole world know how good I am making you feel.”

He was merciless as he fingered you, seeming to revel in every salacious noise his movements pulled from your throat.

“Si, sing for me, pajarito. You sound beautiful.”

“Jake! Oh god! Fuck!”

Your legs shook as you came, and you were glad that you were mostly lying down, otherwise you would have collapsed. Your orgasm had barely finished when Jake pulled his fingers from you, with a wet, smacking sound. You heard him sucking on them, muttering under his breath, too low for you to really catch, and then he was pushing into you. Your eyes that had fluttered closed during your throws of ecstasy flew open, as he ploughed into you. One hand on your hip, the other still on the back of your neck, this was primal, feral fucking, and it was just what you wanted.

“Fuck, yes! Fuck me, Jake. Fuck me, hard!”

Jake shifted behind you, pressing his whole body against yours, his weight pushing down on your ass. Your legs slid out from under you and he followed you down, still pounding his cock into you, ferociously.

“You want it hard? Then I’ll give you hard. You will feel me in tu coño for days.”

He withdrew abruptly, but easily manhandled you over onto your back. He sunk back in, just as hurriedly, before hooking your legs over his muscular forearms and planting his hand on the mattress either side of your chest. Your legs were spread wide and your body folded in half as he rose up on his knees and started up his sweet torture. Each animalistic thrust pushed more noises and curses from you, rambling nonsensical sounds of lust and desire.

His thick cock was rubbing you just right on the inside, and the trimmed hair at the base of it rubbed over your engorged clit. You could feel yourself falling into that delicious spiral - the push and pull of sensation dragging you towards your inevitable, and explosive, end.

“Mírame, amor.”

You hadn’t even realised your eyes were closed, but at his gruff command, you managed to open them slightly, taking in the fierce look on his face, the sweat peppering his brow, causing his hair to curl more.

“Cum, cariño. Let me feel you coming undone.”

He leant forward, capturing your lips again in an unforgiving kiss, a kiss that felt as though he was trying to pull your soul from you, and as he dragged that part of you from your body, he also dragged your orgasm from you. He let your lips go right at the moment that you screamed out your pleasure, with all the air in your lungs. Your vision went simultaneously black and white, your eyes unable to see anything but static as the waves of ecstasy dashed you on the rocks.

How long you lay there, dazed, you weren’t sure, but you came back to yourself to the feeling of Jake gently mouthing at your core.

No, not Jake. It didn’t feel like him.

A change in your breathing must have given away your more alert state, because he raised his head, smiling softly. You reached out your hand to weave into his soft hair.

“Steven. When did you get here?”

“You know aftercare is my thing, babes. Now just lay back and let me clean you up, alright?”

You let yourself relax back into your messed up bed, enjoying the soft sensations as Stephen licked and stroked you. Your body juddered with a gentle, final orgasm, lulling you to the edge of sleep. A few dips of the mattress and two strong arms pulled up the coverlet before wrapping around your body, a few gentle kisses pressed to the corner of your mouth.

“You staying?” you questioned, sleepily.

“Of course, babes. It’s cold outside.”

Taglist: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @talia-rumlow

#steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #steven grant x female reader #marc spector x female reader #jake lockley x female reader #late writes #tis the season to be thot y #the thot neighborhood

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phanfictioncatalogue · 2 years

Text

The Isle of Man (2) Masterlist

part one

2018 (ao3) - outphan

Summary: Dan has a chat with Kath, about his relationship and future with Phil.

amidst the chaos (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: “Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen” -Bobby, age 7

And, Like Putting On Glasses, I Saw the World in Perfect Clarity (ao3) - cactuslester

Summary: Dan thinks this trip to the Isle of Man will be like all the other trips to visit the Lesters. Little does he know, Phil has a 3 carat surprise for him.

A Quiet Coffee Date on IOM (ao3) - ByTheFire

Summary: Dan and Phil go to explore downtown while Kath runs some errands and find a queer coffee shop

Christmas Coming Out (ao3) - FandomFeels17

Summary: He didn't intend to come out to his mum in his future mother in law's kitchen at Christmas... But here he was, doing exactly that.

Deep Breath (ao3) - ahappyphil

Summary: Dan and Phil visit the Isle of Man to finish TABINOF

from the ashes of everything now (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: a series of stories set after Dan and Phil reach Isle of Man, originally posted in the comments of 'in the half light'

home is in the hills (ao3) - watergator

Summary: dan spends christmas with phil's family on the isle of man

(yes this is an actual thing that happened irl im dead)

i’m fine (if you are fine) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: But the sun is rising now, streaks of orange and gold spread across the candyfloss-coloured sky, shards of light catching in the sea below. Their faces are pink from the climb, and pressed together on the bench the December chill doesn’t seem so bad. They can see for miles from their seat. He doesn’t want to be cynical about everything any more.

[the morning before dan leaves the isle of man for christmas, he thinks about the future]

maybe this christmas (ao3) - blackbirddan

Summary: In all the years they've known each other, Dan and Phil have never been able to spend Christmas Day together. And it's looking like they still can't, even with how much things have changed this year. Unless...

a.k.a. Dan’s family spend Christmas in the Isle of Man.

Written for schnaf as part of the 2019 Phandom Fic Fests Secret Santa exchange. Prompt: Christmas dinner with the family

Mitten (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Dan really truly thought it was going to take longer to feel normal on the Isle of Man again. He’s changed so much; the world has changed so much.

A fic about knits and rules.

No Man Is An Island (ao3) - strawberrysunflower

Summary: While drunk and desperate to get away from the creatively-stifling hubbub of London, Dan rents a farmhouse on the Isle of Man for four weeks to finish writing his latest book. All he wants is silence. Peace. Solitude.

Then he meets Phil, the farm owners’ dorky, clumsy, stupidly handsome son.

Safe Place (ao3) - ahappyphil

Summary: The Isle of Man is warm and unseasonably sunny, or maybe it’s just Kath. Maybe her maternal glow just radiates off this little island.

Sea Glass (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Phil arrives on the Isle of Man to house-sit at his family's cabin while it's repaired and sold. Except the cabin's in far worse shape than expected, and Phil's got to find somewhere else to stay (Phil POV)

Seagulls Screaming (kiss him, kiss him) (ao3) - Allthephils

Summary: Dan goes to the coast with his family and shares a fleeting moment with a boy on a cliff. It’s brief but it’s clear, this is only the beginning.

In another world, this is their origin story.

shiver, but shiver with a friends (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: it might be cold, but the view of the moon on the black ocean and phil next to him makes it more than worth it.

teach me to breathe again (ao3) - phantasizeit

Summary: Phil reflects on his anxiety while he observes the ocean on the Isle of Man with Dan. This quickly dissolves into playfully chasing each other in the rain.

the brightest shade of sun (i had ever see ) (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: one dawn on the isle of man can be enough to unite two craving hearts, even if a lot of heartbreaking thoughts are revealed along the way

The Next Chapter (ao3) - wheniamqueenx

Summary: 'Dan is standing on a doorstep just outside of Manchester, it is the twenty first of December and he isn’t supposed to be here. He should be with Phil who has probably has not yet removed himself from the sofa, pyjama pants still softly clinging to his hips.'

Dan goes to visit Phil's mum, alone.

these are the places i will always go. (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: "If it were the last few days on earth where would you want to spend it?" Dan eventually asks, thinking back to that story with Martyn and Phil.

Phil thinks, and then says, "Well I guess it'd be here. With my family and you. What about you?" Or the one where Dan goes with Phil to the Isle of Man and thinks about what family means to him.

Vow (ao3) - Lackless

Summary: Dan and Phil get married

want you so bad i can taste it (ao3) - larasunbetadscribbles

Summary: Protect me from what I want.

Or: Dan and Phil get absurdly drunk and start making out in the middle of a pub, with Martyn and Cornelia coming to rescue them from doing something incredibly stupid.

We Have Each Other (And That’s All We Need) (ao3) - Phanfictionhoe

Summary: Dan and Phil have finished their 2018 tour and are visiting Phil's family on the Isle of Man before they go home. This is supposed to be a nice calm vacation for the two after the stress of the tour, however Phil can't find it in himself to calm down. Dan decides to help him out a little bit...

without twilight or compromise (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan and Phil explore an old bookstore.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #masterlists #islandofman #isleofman masterlist

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demented-dukey · 5 years

Text

(alt title: Open letter to anyone who judges me on my ships alone) (alt title: Open letter to anyone I was hoping to become friends with on the discord I am not welcome on) (alt title: I’m sorry that standing up for what i believe in has made things awkward) (alt title: Steven Universe continues to be a Big Mood)

I don't need you to respect me, I respect me I don't need you to love me, I love me But I want you to know you could know me If you change your mind...

~ Steven Universe

#random #off topic #mood #vagueblogging #dd vents #open letter to the fandom #dd is tired #i will not apologize for existing #secret santa hubbub

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calamity-unlocked · 2 years

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Half of my secret santa gift for @cute-as-buttons! 🎅🎄 Some fluffly Sashanne that I didn't realize was very off-season until I reread it 😅 So, ehh, Sash, hope you don't mind the summer vibes! 💕💕

Despite everything, Sasha felt at peace.

Her elbows rested on the coral balcony of her temporary apartment, situated in the Newtopian harbor district. It was the only place in the city not surrounded by towering walls, instead opening up to allow the docking of ships. Down below, on cobblestone-paved streets, a crowd of fishermen, sailors, merchants, and other folks who had business near the docks was going about their day-to-day work. But past those streets, Sasha had a perfect view over the endless ocean. A cerulean expanse under a late afternoon sky. A strong smell of salt and brine was ever-present, much like the seagulls’ constant screeching.

She loved it. She loved this city, even more so than she loved LA.

Sure, Newtopia was both the birthplace and the battleground of most of her past problems. It would always be the place where she had betrayed those she loved and was betrayed in return.

But there was something about the way the sun set in Newtopia. How the waves crashed lightly on the shore or against those alabaster walls. How the people here carried themselves. With that mesmerizing royal blue sky above her, all those painful moments felt like distant memories. Faint scars that could easily be covered.

One of the reasons Sasha liked being here so much was because it felt like all her problems got washed away with the tide.

Warm beams of sunlight gently caressed her face, illuminating her strawberry blond hair into weaves of gold. A content sigh escaped her as she leaned over the balcony a little further.

Her eyes fell shut and the noisy hubbub of the harbor district grew fainter. Her steady heartbeat was the only thing she focused on. For the first time since, well, the last time she was here, Sasha didn’t feel the need to be on guard.

She had arrived in the city only a few hours ago. Her bags were still in the hallway, unpacked. After carrying that weight on her back for days on end, she was glad to get rid of it and wouldn’t take another look at it until someone stumbled over it. That someone most likely being Grime.

The retired captain was down in the city, somewhere. The two of them had spent the last month hiking the trail between the East and the West Toad Towers. Not an easy feat – even though the biggest evil was removed from the continent, Amphibia was still a very dangerous place. But with Grime, she could face anything.

Sasha was going to miss him. Next week, she would march to the palace, give Queen Oliva an undeserved hard time, and meet up with her two best friends. Then back to Earth it was. Summer vacation was over, and high school was starting.

A new beginning. A new story, yet to be made.

She was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice a figure sneaking up behind her. Only when a pair of cool hands covered her already unseeing eyes did she startle.

“Surprise!” a familiar voice said, just as Sasha whipped around and raised her fists, ready to strike.

A girl with golden-brown skin and hair that curled like wood shavings immediately jumped to the side, as though prepared for the possible swing of Sasha’s fist. A mischievous sparkle was glimmering in her eyes. “Whoopsie! Shoulda seen that one coming.”

“Anne,” Sasha stammered, struggling to keep her jaw from falling open. “You… You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

Anne and her surrogate frog family had been spending the summer traveling as well; a road trip, if she remembered correctly. But her friend wasn’t supposed to arrive in Newtopia for another four days.

Not that Sasha had memorized the date. Nope. Not at all.

Anne, a vision of joy, smiled brighter.

“Yeah, we ran into some trouble in the north. Long story short, I now know what my face looks like on a wanted poster. And lemme tell you, it’s not flattering.”

Sasha restored herself and let her expression melt into a curved smile. “You should have seen my posters from back in the day. Wild hair, no nose, sharp teeth… They were so abstract, no one could even recognize me.”

Anne laughed. “Guess that’s my new personal mission now: find the only existing embarrassing picture of Sasha Waybright.”

“What can I say. I’m photogenic.”

They chuckled, and Sasha’s body relaxed. She hesitated only a moment before slinging her arm over Anne’s shoulder. “So, you wanna explore the big city?”

That playful twinkle appeared in Anne’s eyes again, more brilliant than before. “Nope! I’m gonna take you somewhere, but it’s a surprise.”

“You know I don’t like surprises.”

“You do when they’re good. Besides, what else are you gonna do? Just stare at nothing from your balcony?”

Sasha dramatically rolled her eyes, but let herself be pulled out of her apartment by Anne. Soon they were navigating the crowded streets, getting closer to the docks.

Every so often, she stole a glance at Anne. The girl didn’t notice, too preoccupied with apologizing to the people they bumped into.

Things were different between them now that Andrias was gone, after Sasha had begged for forgiveness and was granted it. It was like she was hyperaware of every single second that she spent with Anne. The girl only had to squeeze her hand and Sasha would feel like she was floating.

She constantly feared that Anne was somehow aware of the way her heart sped up whenever the other girl giggled or scrunched her face. It made Sasha feel vulnerable.

Maybe she should tell Anne. Tell her what she suspected was happening. But that would mean opening up – and worse, it meant forcing Anne to open up.

Hurting Anne was the last thing she ever wanted to do. But she had. So now she had to make sure it would never happen again.

“Over there!” Anne exclaimed, pointing at a blocked-off path that led to the shoreside. It was barred with a low fence and a sign with Newtopian runes Sasha couldn’t read. She could guess what it meant though: ‘Keep out’.

Sasha didn’t protest when Anne climbed over the obstacle and waved for her to follow – trespassing was an old hobby of hers. But Anne was usually a bit more hesitant about things like this, so one of her eyebrows did shoot up in confusion.

“This path is going to the Newtopian beach,” Anne explained. “When the castle started flying, it got covered in debris. Most of it’s been cleared up now, but they just haven’t reopened it.” They cleared a small hill of sand, rubble littered everywhere around them. “So, that means we’ve got the entire beach for ourselves! Can’t have that anywhere in LA, right?”

Sasha inhaled deeply, letting the wind toy with her hair. They stood on top of the hill, the yellow sand of the beach before them. Completely abandoned, but not any less beautiful. It was only a small strip of shore; the walls that enveloped the city rose again about five hundred feet from them. But here, there was freedom.

“You like it?” Anne asked, uncertainty creeping into her voice.

She grinned. “Last one in the water is a slimy slug!” She raced for the waves, taking off her tunic as she ran.

They instantly transformed back into the kids they were before Amphibia forced them to bear a hundred responsibilities. They had water fights, build sandcastles, made a contest out of whoever could hold their breath the longest. They even had a swordfight with driftwood sticks, their joy keeping the unpleasant memories at bay.

She couldn’t wait until Marcy came back from her voyage on the Green Lady, during which she and Yunan dealt with the last of Andrias’ loyalists. No doubt that she would love this spot just as much as the two of them.

But for now, Sasha was delighted to have Anne all for herself.

What must have been hours later, the two of them were lying on their backs, wet sand clinging to them like mud. The sun was finally setting; the only visible sign that time had passed. The sky was an oil painting of orange, pinks and yellows. It was breathtaking.

Sasha turned her head, finding her face only a breath away from Anne’s. The swarm of butterflies that was trapped in her ribcage battered to get free. “This was really great, Anne. Thanks.”

“No prob, Sash. I had fun.” Her mouth opened, then closed again. Eventually, she smiled softly and said: “I love being with you.”

The words caused Sasha’s heart to surge a little more than she anticipated, and she swallowed thickly. “Me too,” she whispered.

They looked at each other for a while, the silence between them its own conversation. Her cheeks burned.

She swallowed again. “Grime is probably wondering where I am…”

Anne blinked. “Oh. Yeah. Kinda forgot we had somewhere to be,” she laughed sheepishly.

Neither of them moved, though. Both girls kept sitting there, their toes in the sand, their fingertips so close to each other the smallest twitch would cause them to touch.

The sunset was beautiful – or so Sasha assumed. They never saw it disappear behind the horizon. Instead they were looking into the swirling storms that were the other’s eyes. They saw the other person, but also their own reflection.

So different from who they used to be. Still so much room left to change, to grow.

In the end, like threads of fate predestined to intertwine, their fingers touched. And they didn’t let go.

#amphibia #calamity's writing #write another story: we’re fine #cute-as-buttons

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creative-poptart · 4 years

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Sans had never been more scared in his life, save for maybe the one or two times he lost Papyrus in the snow. This was a significant step forward for how the rest of his days would look, and if he messed this up, he would be miserable. Of course, he knew that he wanted to do this.

Ever since he had met Toriel on the Surface, he had felt some special connection to her. Whether it was because his soul was calling out for her or not, something about the former queen of monsterkind was so enticing to him. Was it the puns? The way she would bleat if she laughed too hard at a joke? The radiance of her presence in general?

He didn’t know the answer, but he was happy all the same.

Upon all of monsterkind reaching the surface world again, however, the pair had drifted apart. Tori was busy working with the newly appointed ambassador to keep the monster-human relations calm and settled, and Sans was busy trying to make enough funds to get himself and Papyrus settled. With all the extra hubbub, there wasn’t nearly enough time for the two punny buddies to try and get together.

“BROTHER, YOU HAVE BEEN SULKING THERE FOR THE PAST HOUR!” Papyrus called from where he stood at the stove, working on prepping dinner for the pair. “IF YOU ARE GOING TO SEE LADY TORIEL TODAY, THEN YOU WILL NEED TO MOVE YOUR BODY TO ACTUALLY GO AND SEE HER! I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT SHE WILL NOT BE COMING HERE WITHOUT PROMPTING!”

“right as always, paps,” Sans replied, not moving an inch from where he sat at the table. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go see Toriel, it was that he was horribly frightened about what she could say to him.

Over several months, before leaving the Underground, Sans realized he was starting to develop feelings for whoever was behind the big purple door to the Ruins. Despite never having seen who it was, he felt compelled to know more about them, telling jokes of all kinds through the door and trying to win them over. The voice was decidedly female, and Sans fell more in love with her as their little routine of telling jokes continued. Learning that he was sharing puns and falling for the former queen was undoubtedly a shock, but it changed nothing for him.

In fact, Sans was in so deep now that he could hardly stand to be away from her, always wondering when they were going to meet again next. There had been a few meetings since leaving the Underground, but not nearly enough to satiate the itching in his soul. It called for her softly, day in and day out.

“BROTHER!!” Once again, Papyrus’ voice snapped Sans out of his reverie and brought him back to reality. This time, however, the taller of the two stood over his brother, hands placed on his hipbones, and a scowl on his face. Sans could figure out what he was going to be told, so he shrugged and slid off his chair.

“okay, bro, i’m going, see?” he mumbled as he shuffled over to get his sneakers on. Papyrus seemed satisfied with this and turned back to cooking dinner.

“JUST MAKE SURE YOU ACTUALLY COME HOME TONIGHT!” he called over his shoulder. “I’VE BEEN PRACTICING A NEW PASTA DISH AND I WOULDN’T WANT YOU TO MISS IT!”

“sure thing, papyrus,” Sans called back, then took a shortcut to make it to Toriel’s house. He had only been here once or twice before, but that was more than enough for him to get acquainted with the area and find some shortcuts to it. As he saw the door in front of him, he took a deep breath, steeling the nerves he didn’t technically have for what he wanted to do.

With a faintly trembling hand, he knocked on the door twice, as was their tradition. For a few terrifying seconds, no one answered, and for a moment Sans was relieved that he might not have to do this today.

“Who’s there?” came Toriel’s voice, just a moment before he was going to leave to try again later.

“kenya,” he blurted on instinct, any preparations he had made before flying out the window. There was a soft chuckle on the other side of the door.

“Kenya who?”

“keyna let me in? it’s cold out here,” Sans quipped, winking even though he knew she wouldn’t see it. Toriel laughed from her side, then pulled the door open to look at him. Her smile was bright and wide, her posture relaxed, and an apron wrapped around her middle. She must have been baking or cooking dinner before he arrived.

“Hello there, my friend, to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked smoothly, holding the door open a little wider as an invitation to come in. Sans stayed where he was, acutely aware of how he was beginning to sweat a little bit.

“i actually came over to tell you something important,” he said. Toriel’s eyebrows rose a little bit and she nodded, an indication to continue. Sans took another deep breath. This was the make-or-break moment.

“i-if you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber,” he started, trying to ease himself into the process. Toriel laughed lightly at that one, but he didn’t miss the light pink color creeping up across her cheeks and snout. The sight of that alone gave him enough confidence to continue with his plans.”

“are you a parking ticket? because you’ve got fine written all over you!” This line was accompanied by a set of finger guns, which also prompted more laughter. However, Sans could see that it was working, at least a little, so it was time to ask the one question he had been dreading.

“do you happen to have an extra heart? b-because i think you just stole mine.”

Toriel stopped laughing at that one, her eyes going wide and the blush on her cheeks amping up to a ten. Sans fiddled with his phalanges nervously, his soul pounding in his chest as she stared at him in shock. The seconds ticked by, making him all the more nervous, but then she finally spoke up.

“Sans, can you feel my apron for me?” The odd nature of the request threw him for a loop, but the skeleton monster did as he was asked. “What does that feel like to you?”

“uh, cotton, maybe?” he responded with a shrug. As he looked up, he could see Tori grinning, an expression that grew when he gave his answer.

“No, it’s made out of girlfriend material,” she told him. Sans blinked once, twice, then felt the magical blush rising to his cheekbones start to intensify. The former queen leaned down to plant a small kiss to the side of his cheekbones, and for once, the silver-tongued skeleton didn’t have a single thing to say.

“Shall we meet up on Friday at seven for a date, then?” Toriel asked him softly. Sans was still struck dumb, so he nodded mutely, eye sockets wide in surprise. The goat monster smiled at him, bid him goodnight, asked him to say hello to Papyrus, and said she was looking forward to their date. Shortly afterward, she closed the door, leaving Sans on the porch.

He raised a hand to his cheekbone, where Toriel had kissed it, then began to smile. His soul started singing and he was overjoyed, taking a shortcut straight home so that he didn’t look weird for standing there too long.

That went much better than expected.

~~~~~~~~~~

@undertalesecretsanta

This is my part for the Undertale Secret Santa, a gift for @munchmulch!!! Hope you enjoy the little drabble I wrote up for you!

#undertale #undertale sans #undertale toriel #soriel #drabble #undertale secret santa #undertale secret santa 2019

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likesomekindofcheese · 5 years

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I Put A Spell On You- Roger Taylor x fem! OC

A/N: Hello @benders-diamond-earring ! It is I!!! Your Secret Santa revealed!!!

This is my HalloQueen gift (plus a smol moodoboard!) for @dtfrogertaylor Halloween celebration. It is a gift for @benders-diamond-earring AKA Cora! In her honor, I’ve made Cora my muse and namesake for the OC. Read and enjoy Cora (and everyone!)

Words: 3245

Some angst and lots of fluff!

Context: Cora is in love with her friend Roger, but he’s constantly flirting with other girls and totes not interested or is he??????? So Cora enlists some...supernatural help.

London, 1976

“I’m a freelance, love, I don’t do cheap. But there’s a two-for-one sale with potions so pick what you want.” The witch explained over her counter.

Cora scowled a little at the prices, then shrugged. Witch shops of high quality took effort to find, even in a big city.

It was a medieval building with a low ceiling and grey stone walls held up by wooden beams. Books and potion bottled filled up the bookshelves. A black cat hopped up to the small table full of cauldrons and bowls of snake skins. It eyed her carefully, still as a statue. Several larger cauldrons bubbled in each corner as if someone was boiling water for four pots of tea.

Mentally blocking the price tags of the potion jars, she studied the labels of each potion bottle she saw. If she was going to go through with this, she had to find the perfect one.

What other choice did she have at this point?

Just the other night at that bar she noticed how Roger was flirting with what seemed any gorgeous woman clicking by in heels and swinging purses by their side. Not that he didn’t have a knack for it. But it felt different that night.

They laughed intensely. They batted their eyes and hooked onto him like koala cubs. It was just a simple band gathering. Cora could have talked to one of the other members or do some flirting of her own. But envy shut her throat tight. She clutched onto her glass, gulping it down and ordering another. Just wanting to forget.

Only she hadn’t forgotten at all.

If she didn’t act, at least one girl would stay for longer than just one drink. That girl had to be her. No matter what means.

“Are your potions…effective?” Cora asked. Peering into a cauldron of green stuff, she almost heard a voice singing from it.

A bit of Cora’s ashy blonde hair got a little too close to some purple liquid bubbling on a shelf under a little heater and the witch bolted from her counter to brush the strand out of the way.

“It’s magic, love, of course it’s effective. Everything you read on there will happen. But be cautious, it will happen!” the witch boasted. She gestured with long, pale hands with soft, clean nails.

Cora squinted at the witch as she walked back to the counter. She had black hair cut into a pageboy bob and brown eyes. She was older than Cora, but not too much older from the light in her eyes and lightness of her steps. If the flowy, black, maxi dress she was wearing was a different color, one would mistake her for a hippy.

None of the potions on the counters were exactly what Cora needed. She let out a little huff and drove straight to it.

“Where are the love potions?” she asked, her eyes directly into the witches.

“I thought so! That’s what at least a hundred girls come in for!” the witch giggled. She pulled open a squeaking door from behind her counter.

“Well, now it’s a hundred and one,” Cora replied.

She rolled her ball into fists and curled her toe impatiently. She just wanted to be in and out as soon as possible. Especially if someone noticed.

The witch turned under the counter and brought out a small pink jar. One might think strawberry flavored tea was inside it.

“If you whisper the name into the jar and press it to your heart and then have the person take a sip of it, they will kiss the ground you walk on. I hear it tastes like lemonade. More than you can say for some of the others.” she explained with a wink.

“That’s perfect! I’ll have that” Cora answered. She grabbed the jar and cradled it on the crook of her arm.

The witch looked around at the other jars along with her shop lining up on bookshelves.

“Alright, want to pick another one?” she offered with a winning smile. “Buy one, get one, you know.”

Hesitantly, Cora looked at each one. There was another jar that was in a rather large bottle with a long neck and glowed like honey. Its liquid was the color of honey, too, and ran like water when she swirled it around. It had one mere word in cursive, purple ink on its label.

“Confidence” Cora read softly.

She dropped the love potion on the counter and moved the confidence potion next to it.

“I’ll take that one too, please!” Cora insisted.

“I hope you like the smell of cinnamon, it’ll waft up the place” the witch added with a small nod.

She began to add up the price and tax on feather pen on a sheet of crinkly paper.

“I must warn you. My love spells are powerful but…they are just a spell, at the end of the day. Not a real feeling. It’s like you’re giving your victim lines to read and play, but it’s just the spell talking.” She warned grimly as she handed over the sheet with the price.”

“Thanks for your concern, but I’ve made my decision,” Cora answered, looking into the witch’s eyes.

“Fifty pounds, then.”

Cora shuffled through to her little flat. It was small, with yellow walls and a red, raggedy carpet. She saw her flatmates gathered around the television engrossed in a comedy with its garish colors and ghostly laughter. She prayed they would be too hypnotized to crave a snack.

She tiptoed over to the kitchen and dropped her heavy brown paper bag on the counter facing as far away from the hubbub as possible. Immediately she lifted the pink jar and set it down with a clump.

Cora unscrewed the top quietly, clutching it in her free hand. She bent down, inhaled it’s maple tinted perfume and whispered the softest, tenderest, most desperate whisper of a name into the jar. She quickly reattached the lid as if she had opened a firing canon. She hugged it tightly to her racing heart for almost a minute,

What was she even doing? Was this a mistake?

Well, too late to go back now. I’ve started this and I’ll finish it!

She almost wanted to kiss the top for luck. Shaking her head from such an adolescent idea, she pushed the potion aside and crept to the black telephone on the wall. She made some calls to her intended victim and his friends. It would be on the Friday before Halloween and she wanted to have a little get-together for the holiday. Her flatmates would be out of town or out. Of course, drinking would welcome.

She put the love potion on the fridge and pushed the confidence potion to the corner of the counter to hide it among the other jam jars and beer bottles.

Deaky arrived first, as usual, with Freddie and Brian rushing after. Cora stuffed her gripping fists into her pocket to pull off an air of a relaxed hostess. Until there were five unmistakable knocks on the door and she nearly leaped into the ceiling.

Roger arrived last, dressed in his denim blue jacket and his blonde hair a little windswept.

“Cora, love! How are you! Not too late, am I? The tube took it’s bloody time!” he greeted with a small hug.

Cora laughed a little and shook her head once he started to release.

“Oh no, we just started- make yourself at home!” she said.

She could still feel his arms around her still pressed lightly on her arm like that of a ghost once he let go.

Roger strutted over to the couch and plopped himself down on the couch next to Freddie. The two began talking about some ridiculous fashion choices the neighbor had made and were cackling.

With a friend like Cora, the band always felt like it was a tiny haven. No press. No managers. No pressure to top. Only relaxation and each other.

“God, I’m starving! Can I help myself?” he asked Cora. She nodded her yellow head.

Brian wandered to the kitchen, filled with pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies on platters. He smiled- not the usual “Skull” meatballs on platters like the typical Halloween party he had been invited to. He helped himself to one and opened the fridge for drinks.

Of course, the good stuff was on the very bottom. Near his calves.

“All the beers are at my feet! I swear, Cora, you’re a pixie!” he complained, crouching down.

“My flat, my rules!” Cora retorted from the corner of the kitchen. She kept one eye on the top of the fridge, just in case.

Brian closed his eyes, shot up his eyebrows in admittance of defeat, and nodded his head. He did not see the pink jar or if he did he wasn’t interested. He got the chilled wine and set it on the table, near the other cookies, caramel apples, and orange buckets of popcorn.

The television buzzed with noise as Deaky fiddled with the knobs, flipping through channels. The knobs were so small his mammoth-sized hands almost crushed them.

“There has to be some Halloween program somewhere” he muttered.

Roger meanwhile stretched out his legs and looked up at the decorations of orange streamers hanging from the ceiling. His sapphire eyes turned to the beige walls where black cats curled over pumpkins with triangle eyes and toothy grins. The small balcony of the place had glass windows looking out to London amid another dark, autumnal evening. White paper ghosts with pointy hands and small, delicate facial features roamed over the glass, held on by tape. Far too detailed to be any of the dime-a-dozen plastic cats and witches at shops.

“Those are gorgeous!” Roger praised, his head turning to Cora.

Cora sucked in a bit of breath and wiped her sweaty hands.

“D’you make these?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“I did, she asked me to” Freddie burst in.

He had already grabbed a bottle of the cheap champagne from the kitchen that had been out for him and a black ceramic cat with a witch’s hat. He set the bottle down on the coffee table and waltzed back to the kitchen for five glasses, the ceramic cat still under his arm.

Cora’s eyes darted back to the fridge. They had to stop doing this if her blood pressure would last the night. The pink jar was still untouched.

“Don’t you know my designs by now, Rog?” he said. He stroked the cats back as if it was real fur.

“Shut up!” Rog teased with a little pout.

Cora snuck a look and bit of a smile.

“Or shut in!” she added, throwing an in-joke.

Roger looked at her with gleaming eyes. Since she learned about the infamous cupboard incident, she labeled him a shut-in. He hated it at first, but it grew on him secretly. Now he allowed relentless teasings from Cora.

“You shut in!” he added. The others just stared blankly until it stopped.

Deaky kept turning until he found a channel showing the original Dracula film right as it was starting. Freddie practically hopped in his seat and begged him to let them watch it and Deaky relented, laying on the floor and watching.

The black and white movie continued and the three began their commentary over it. Brian was discussing how the crew pulled off the effects, and how the script compared with the book. Freddie was cooing over the capes and how amazing Bella Lugosi was. Roger was busy telling the victims in the box that they were obviously with a vampire and should flee instead of conversing with him “like dumb gits!”. Deaky quietly watched, mesmerized. Cora was secretly wishing it was something a little more current. And scarier.

“Is there any whiskey to drink? I want something strong” he asked Cora.

“Let me make you some whiskey with lemonade!” Cora insisted. Her pulse was starting to pick up as she eyed the potion on top of her fridge and smiled as it still seemed invisible to everyone else.

“A bit too sweet for my taste, but it’ll do!” Roger said, giving her a smile that could have melted a glacier.

She shot up and walked to the kitchen. As Cora pulled out her stool stood on the top and reached for the jar her mind was half blank. It was when she got the glass from her cabinet that shivers hit her stomach.

This was it. One drink, one small drink, and all her fantasies would come alive. Roger would be at her heels. Glamourous dates, erotic midnights, and the warmth of his hands on her would all come true. He just had to take a sip.

She swallowed her fear and unscrewed the lid, ready to tip it over.

But she couldn’t pour it in.

One pour, one pour, a sip, and he’ll be all mine…and I’ll have a reason not to worry at night or cry…or feel angry inside when some girl or groupie hangs around him…

She tried again, but couldn’t pour it in. The witch’s words came again, clearly to her brain.

She thought of him after the drink. Eyes glazed. Words that while romantic were severely robotic. She could practically feel his hands. But they weren’t warm. They were cold and tense as a stone.

She sighed and re-capped the bottle. She shoved the love potion to the back of the fridge with the leftovers.

“Flatmates drank it all, so how about Southern Comfort- I’ve smuggled it from them” she suggested. A plastic smile smudged her face and hurt her cheeks.

“Not a problem at all! I need to walk anyways” Roger answered, he hopped out of his seat to grab it himself.

Cora stopped him with her hand and retrieved a glass of Southern Comfort from inside the fridge’s back corner, pouring out two small glasses.

She watched the movie with them covering the commentary with sarcastic remarks and other light conversations while sipping drinks and eating. Close to the end of the film, she noticed Roger get up from his seat and walk over to the kitchen.

“I need another shot of that stuff…” he mumbled.

His shoes trotted over the kitchen floor and stopped right at the counter where the bottles stood.

“What’s it doing in the corner? Untouched? Whatever!” he commented, opening the bottle with a pop.

Cora’s memory jolted.

The confidence potion was still out.

And it looked exactly like the Southern Comfort bottle-glass, and all.

Cora got up and ran, but it was too late.

“Aw! Is it a new bottle for me, Cora? Hiding a gift, eh? Thank you!” Roger said as he swigged from the bottle in a millisecond before he could be stopped.

His face changed from pale to red to purple. Then he charged up at Fred, tackling him with open fists.

“MY SONG IS STRONG ENOUGH YOU BASTARD!!! FIGHT ME!!” he screamed.

Freddie’s boxing origins kicked in and he dodged each punch gracefully, preparing his fists for a jab-cross-hook at Roger’s chiseled jaw.

Brian and Roger at once fled over and began to protect Freddie and push Roger away. Cora pulled Roger back by the shoulders.

“Roger…Roger of course it is! You need some air, let’s go outside!” Cora demanded, practically dragging him there.

They went out to the balcony. Cars could barely be heard skimming the streets. More stars stretched over the sky, not threatened by the cities blaring, yellow lights.

“Roger, calm down!” she ordered.

Roger blinked at her for a moment.

“Cora, I’m calm…I’ve never felt this calm in ages!” he insisted. He began to lick his lips a little.

Cora cursed herself for immediately feeling woozy. Maybe it was the whiskey. She folded her arms and continued her reasoning.

“Roger, you love Fred more than anything and you know it! And the song’s already on the B-side…everything’s worked out” she insisted.

“Not everything” Roger answered. He sat down on the green, steel chair placed outside, cold with nothing but the constant chill around it.

“What do you mean?” Cora asked. She placed her hands on her hips to look even taller than him now.

“You have everything you could ever want right now! Two years ago, you could barely afford beans and now you’re getting to be a rock star with hit songs, money, and girls at your feet.”

“Well, I don’t want those girls. They don’t matter if they aren’t you” Roger confessed, the cinnamon scent of the potion still wafting from his breath.

Cora felt as if she was dropped from the sky and plummeted to earth. She got dizzy and almost felt like she would teeter off the building but caught herself on the railing of the balcony.

“You’re joking!” she said.

“No, I’m not!”

“Did you have any of that pink stuff I had?”

“What pink stuff?” Roger asked.

He looked down, took a deep breath, and then took her hands. Cora felt them sweat slightly. He pulled her a little closer, so despite how short she was, she stood over his sitting frame. Roger looked up, his face soft with reverence and his eyes getting wide and his smile gentle.

“It’s that I just…I’m normally so nervous around you. I feel my heart picking up and I start sweating” he said quietly.

“What about those girls?”

“I used to devour them but lately… I like to use them as a warmup so I could be ready to ask you out sometime but…none of them were anything like you. They want my talent or that I’m a drummer in a band or something…they didn’t care about me…like you do” he said.

Winds picking up, the clouds above in the night sky moved further away. More stars dotted the sky like freckles on a face.

“But now, I feel…at peace. And I fancy you. And I’m not afraid anymore to say I fancy you...and…”

He bit his lower lip and Cora felt her body get hot.

“I always had a soft spot for blonde girls.” He added cheekily. Cora had to look down at the floor for a second to regain herself another time.

“There, I said it.” Roger finished, he tossed him arms and slumped back in the chair for a release.

She smiled coquettishly and went up to embrace him. He almost jumped from surprise. How could someone so strong, so radiantly beautiful, so brave, so confident, and awe-inspiring like obnoxious old him?

She sat on his lap from the hug and touched his face with both hands. Both of their eyes seemed to get a little misty.

“I fancy you too.” She answered. “I’ve fancied you for a while.”

“Do you…d’you wanna go out with me? Like, not as friends, but you know…”

“I will if you kiss me first!” Cora teased, biting her lip.

His lips were tender, and his breath had the sting of the southern comfort still on it, but it was a passionate kiss. One only witnessed by the stars in the sky.

That and three curious bandmates quietly staring through the glass. Brian cursed and slipped Deaky five pounds.

“Told you they’d be together” Deaky hissed.

#dtfrogertaylot #benders-diamond-earring #halloween #halloqueen #halloqueen event #roger taylor #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor angst #queen #queen fanficiton #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor x fem!oc #ben hardy #classic rock #halloqueen gift #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfiction #roger tsylor oneshot

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ineffable-writer · 5 years

Text

1500 words of Ineffable Husbands on a train together

All my sketches of locations/situations/whatever turn into drabbles about these two eventually so I’ve started posting ‘em.

The title is the summary. Literally just a description of my trip out to a weekend writing retreat, but with the husbands added in. I have no idea why I can read 8,000,000,000,000 drabbles of the two of them being domestic but I figure I can’t be the only one so?

Read it here. Or below the break.

Sketch written on a train from Edinburgh to Inverness

Crowley was bent into a checkmark, legs up on the carriage table and his back contorted to fit into the plastic, scrappy seat. His phone was out of battery. It had been for like half an hour, but he wasn’t going to forfeit his new high score in Flappy Bird, so he was having none of it.

“You are missing the scenery,” said Aziraphale, sitting beside him, beside the window. Back straight. Eyes as bright and blue as ever. Ridiculously charmed with the countryside. Which was just sheep, Crowley thought. Sheep and farms and a bit more vertical in places. They’d spent centuries pinging across this country like the ball in an ineffable game of table tennis, constantly moving by foot and by car and—his buttocks still ached in empathy for the past—horseback.

“I’m familiar with the look of sheep.” Crowley did not see the appeal.

“You’re familiar with- with that silly telephone,” said Aziraphale, with enough vehemence to imply that silly was understatement, but enough familiarity that Crowley knew he’d already been forgiven. Crowley leaned into Aziraphale’s shoulder a little, a reminder: I’m here, remember, I came on this trip for you. The angel smiled, did that little shifting wiggle of his shoulders that showed he was pleased. “I’ll never understand your fascination with that… thing.”

“You’d love it if you gave it a try. I’d lose you forever to Candy Crush.”

“No. You wouldn’t.”

Right. Ever since the end-of-the-world-that-wasn’t, Aziraphale had been going rather hard on the whole our side thing. They were still getting used to that. Six thousand years assuming that eventually, the angel would fuck back off to Heaven, and now he couldn’t make jokes even tangential to the topic. It wasn’t a bad thing. Just took some getting used to.

It didn’t require an answer. Just a smile.

The train to Inverness filled quickly. When they’d left Edinburgh, the cheap seats had been nearly empty; each stop let on a character or two, or three, or four. The tables filled first, then the row seats, as the overhead shelving cluttered up with bags and backpacks and market bags full of wrapped presents. ‘Twas the season.

Somehow no one joined their table, no matter how enthusiastically Aziraphale beamed at them, and eventually two new row seats appeared behind them to make up for the ones Crowley was so selfishly hogging. Instead the humans milled around them and talked and gossiped and—

Oh, I think he fancies it, honestly, he just pretends he hates the attention—

—you walk right up to the top and it’s the most beautiful view—

—hi how are you hi how are you hi how are you hi— Relax, darling, just relax, enjoy your trip—

Aziraphale glanced over his shoulder at the last, a poor overstimulated young man and his father, who was doing his best to help but still had to battle against the jostle and hubbub of the carriage. The angel brushed a bit of lint off his jacket. Suddenly father and son found their table to be less chaotic, less alarming.

“Oy. You can’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Now I’ve got to go and inconvenience someone, even you out.”

“We don’t have to, you know.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“That woman in the… hat is thinking infuriatingly eugenic thoughts, if you’re looking for someone to inconvenience. Have at it.”

“Now you’re just using me,” Crowley complained, but suddenly her cell phone battery was dead, and his was full again. The angel was right, of course. It wouldn’t be any fun ruining someone’s day if they didn’t deserve it just a little bit.

They passed through the country, the low and rolling hills, with the angled sunlight of late December casting golden shadows over the Highlands. Distant pines contrasted against the midday sunset—obsidian arrows against pink and blue and grey. They dipped in and out of tunnels like pens into an inkwell, brief forays into the black. They passed villages—Perth and Pilochry—made of houses from a dozen bygone days, Georgian and Victorian and modern and suburbian and sometimes a dozen at once. Mountains with snowcaps rose on the horizon and fell behind the nearer hills. The grass was yellow with winter, the trees marbled with green and brown.

Crowley had died in Flappy Bird and put aside his phone eventually. Aziraphale had not moved from his admiration of the windows. Crowley sighed and relaxed a little further and his head leaned against Aziraphale’s shoulder, now, rather than a simple lean.

“Why did you insist on the train, Angel?”

“Other than wanting to ensure we arrived in one piece?”

“Other than that.”

“It’s still here.” No one would overhear them, but Aziraphale’s voice was quiet anyway. “It nearly wasn’t.”

Again, no response required: Aziraphale knew Crowley understood he was only partially talking about the landscape. In the Bentley they’d have been alone together—which was beautiful, perfect, something they would never get tired of. But they would have been alone. Here, they were not alone.

The father and son had been joined by a woman and her small child, and the son was bonding with them over an ipad. A person of indiscriminate gender was tucked against a window, scribbling in a journal and wearing a sweatervest that would make Aziraphale proud. People all around them were drinking coffee and trading holiday plans and moving bags so the trolley could get through and existing. Wholeheartedly and completely here.

The sun had set, but the light lingered, and they hit the snow line—first in the distant hills, then in patches in the dark grass, then a blossoming white spotted with trees. The Highlands rose around them, true mountains now, great slabs of snow and rock with clouds that sank, low and foggy, into the valleys between them. Even Crowley was a little impressed. He relinquished his phone to Aziraphale for the price of exactly one terrible picture that got more of the seats in it than the mountains. When they got home, they’d frame it.

It hadn’t been Crowley’s idea to spend the holidays here. He’d have been happy to stay in Sussex with their usual tradition—cocoa, books, a general disbelief that no one was going to dump holy water all over him—but the angel had been struck with a particular sort of wanderlust lately. So here they were.

Kingussie. Aviemore. Please mind the gap when alighting from this train. The night was spilling like ink into the sky. Stonework gave way to lights nestled in the darkness, villages transformed into scattered diamonds. A man in a red tracksuit got on the train and sat across the corridor, his infant granddaughter in tow. She wore neon pink and curls to rival the angel’s. He held his hands around her, infinitely careful as she tried to learn to walk on a table on the train. She fell—often—but her grandfather caught her, and she had a downright beatific smile. Crowley’s heart warmed and softened at the edges. He took Aziraphale’s hand under the table.

Stars outside, now, a trip down memory lane that came in the form of icicle lights and streetlamps. The universe hadn’t been lit with the neon of a gas station or inflatable Santa Clauses, but somehow the train seemed to be gliding through creation, lost at the beginning of the world.

This is Aviemore. This train is for Inverness. Next stop is Inverness.

Crowley closed his eyes to nap, well aware that Aziraphale would be keenly aware of the evenness of Crowley’s unconscious breath and the closeness of their bodies. He didn’t sleep. Aziraphale was right. There was too much humanity around them not to bask in it a little.

The person in the sweatervest closed their book and they both felt a little pang of heartbreak echo through the car: heartbreak, loss, an echo of a grey day and a bandstand at the end of the world. Some healing loss, some missing piece. It vanished when they smiled at the baby—a smile that rosy could solve any problem in the world, surely—and angel and demon both felt a human identity swell in their chests. Someone squeezed the other’s hand, and then a man in a crew cut started in on a loud phone call in French and the angel’s face furrowed in concentration and Crowley chuckled, because of course Aziraphale was trying to remember enough to listen in.

It earned him a nudge with a rather-entangled-by-now elbow. “Now I thought you were sleeping.”

“We’re nearly there. Don’t have the time.”

“So you’re just watching me, then.”

“You’re entertainment.” In a moment he would get his legs off the table, even, and stretch, and crack his back loudly enough to make everyone around them wince. They’d pull into the station and Aziraphale would insist on enduring a taxi to their cottage, and Crowley would break the pay machines at the barrier to the bathrooms just to get his angel’s stupid enthusiasm out of the air a little, and then they’d both unpack their bags at different times—secretive—since they were currently pretending they hadn’t bought each other gifts.

But not yet.

He could pretend to sleep on Aziraphale’s shoulder for a little bit longer.

#Ineffable Husbands #ineffable partners #ao3 #ao3 good omens #good omens #domestic fanfiction #crowley #crowley and aziraphale #aziraphale #fanfiction #drabble #fluff #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands fanfic #Place Without Plot

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meowloudly15 · 5 years

Text

Stranded: Day 8 - RELATIVE CHAOS

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Gwen, Mrs. Parker, and the rest of the spiders sat around the kitchen table, finishing off their pulled pork sandwiches. (Strangely, Ham didn’t have a problem with eating them.)

“Do you guys have any good stories from your time in the field?” asked Mrs. Parker.

“Oh, I got some!” Gwen brightened up. “You wanna hear a funny one or a cool one?”

“Either or,” said Ham.

“All right, so this happened like a year and a half ago. I was fighting this one guy who was basically an animal trafficker, and he’s super fast and strong and stuff. I won, but it was a tough fight, and he cut me across the face right here.” Gwen drew an invisible line across her forehead. “So, I went back home, and I’m back in my room, and I’ve gotten ready for bed and stuff, and I figured, I’ve gotta clean up this cut. So I headed to the bathroom and ran into my dad. He looked at me funny and asked, ‘What did you do to yourself?’ I panicked and said, ‘It’s ketchup!’”

Peni laughed. Peter B. and Mrs. Parker both cracked a smile. Noir remained as impassive as ever. Ham had vanished for no apparent reason.

Gwen chuckled to herself. “Yeah, I suck at cover stories.”

Peter B. commented, “You sure do. May, did your Peter do anything stupid? Or was he just too perfect for mistakes?”

Mrs. Parker chuckled. “Oh, not at all! Everybody makes mistakes! I’ll tell you how I found out about his secret identity. He was a senior in high school, and I was out of town on business for Alchemax.”

“Wait, you work for Alchemax? The place where they built the collider?” asked Noir.

“Used to. I quit because first of all, I found out that they were battling my nephew, and also because this upstart, Liv, decided she’d try and take over my position. She could have it, for all I cared.” Mrs. Parker rolled her eyes.

“Back to the point. I ended up coming home a day early, and I called Peter to tell him that the business trip had been terminated early. He didn’t pick up. I walked back into the house and saw Peter, sitting on the ceiling of the kitchen in his underwear, halfway through a bowl of mac and cheese. We both screamed.”

Everybody at the table cracked up, even Noir.

ATOMIC DISJUNCTION

Gwen spazzed out and fell through her chair. Noir yanked the chair out of her before her atoms rejoined.

“Thanks, Noir.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Ham poked his head out of the head of the faucet and said, “You have some wonderful storm drains, May, I gotta say. I just had to take a second look.” He pulled the rest of his body out and sat on the counter next to the cookie jar.

Everybody else exchanged concerned glances.

“So, what do you all do for work?” asked Ham.

Noir raised his hand. “I’m a dick.”

Mrs. Parker grimaced, trying to disguise a laugh. Peter B. instinctively covered Peni’s ears. She reached up and removed his hands, saying, “I’ve heard worse.”

Noir cocked his head to the side. “What’s the problem? I’m a dick! You know, a gumshoe? Is something wrong with that?”

Peni and Gwen exchanged confused yet amused looks.

“Oh, for Chrissake, I mean I’m a private eye! Why, what’s-”

“Don’t ask,” said Peter B., cutting him off.

Ham peered over the edge of the ceiling-mounted lamp. “You can cuss in this dimension?”

“No, Peni’s-” Peter B. started to say.

Peni cut him off with an eager grin. “Yes.”

“You guys are so lucky! I can’t cuss! I can only say symbols!”

“You wh-” began Noir.

“#%€@&%¢*§¿&%!” yelled Ham.

The table went silent. Peter B. instinctively covered Peni’s ears. Gwen tried to figure out how he had managed to say those symbols out loud.

Ham continued, “¢*§¿! ¶@~€! +¶¶@+€!”

Mrs. Parker said, “Okay, enough of that.”

“But I’m not actually cussing!”

“Yes, but you’re using a cipher. And you have the intent to swear.”

Under his breath, Ham muttered, “>%ππ+##~€.” He vanished back into the light fixture.

Peter B. glitched out for a couple of seconds.

Gwen tried not to laugh. She had no idea what he’d said, but it was still funny, maybe more so because she didn’t understand it. She did want to know what Mrs. Parker had meant by saying that Ham was using a cipher.

“So, uh, Mrs. Parker…” began Gwen.

Mrs. Parker chuckled. “Oh, please. Call me May. Or Aunt May, if you prefer.”

Gwen furrowed her brow. “But… we’re not related. That’d be weird.”

“You don’t have to share blood with someone to consider them your family.”

Gwen blinked. That was an unexpectedly philosophical answer.

She loved her dad and missed her mother. They were her family, first and foremost. Could somebody have other families besides just those to whom they’re related? Did that count as a family? Technically, it wouldn’t, at least not by the literal definition of one. But was it possible to become close enough with somebody that you might consider him a brother, even if he wasn’t? Or an aunt, even if she wasn’t?

Maybe it was, but it wasn’t anything that Gwen had seriously considered until now. She was lucky to have a caring father who supported her heroic endeavours and to have had a wonderful mother who had raised her pretty well. But other people might have had to think about this more so than she would ever need to.

“Gwen? You all right?” Peni waved a hand in front of her face.

Gwen blinked and returned to earth. “Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Just spaced out, that’s all.”

“Like I asked,” said Noir, “you play the drums, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Splendid. See, I play tenor sax part-time in a jazz ensemble, and our drummer was… well, he’s now an ex-drummer. We need a replacement.”

“As much as I’d love to help, I can’t visit your dimension without putting my life on the line. Also, I’ve got school.”

“Ah, school.” Noir balanced his chair on two legs and folded his arms behind his head. “When I was your age, I walked five miles to school. Uphill.”

“Both ways?”

“Yes, I walked back from school, too.”

“Uh, I mean, did you walk uphill both ways?”

“No, that wouldn’t make sense.”

Peter B. chuckled. “I take it you didn’t have buses back in your day?”

Noir replied, “They existed, but they weren’t for carting kids around. They’re starting to make them for schools, but they’re pretty rare, at least as far as I know.”

Gwen recalled that Noir was from 1933. He had an air of seniority about him, too, which confused her.

“Uh, how old are you?” she asked him.

“Older than you are.”

Ham glitched out briefly.

May stood up. “Who wants dessert? I have fudge.”

Everybody raised their hands eagerly. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want fudge?

May walked into the kitchen.

RELATIVE CHAOS

“Oh man, fudge is the best!” exclaimed Ham. “I normally only get it at Christmastime!”

“You have Christmas in your dimension?” asked Gwen.

“Yeah, who wouldn’t celebrate it?”

Peter B. raised his hand. “There’s Christmas in my dimension, but I celebrate Hanukkah.”

“I promise to punch thirty extra Nazis for you,” said Noir. “And yeah, my dimension has Christmas, too.”

“Thanks for that.”

“There’s still Christmas in my dimension, despite the Creeds!” said Peni. “Is Santa real in your dimensions, too?”

“I don’t think he’s real in any dimension,” replied Noir.

Peni’s eyes widened. “He’s not?”

How old was this kid? Ten? Definitely no older than thirteen. Somewhere in the preteen range. Somewhere in the “you-should-have-figured-out-about-Santa-Claus-already” range, which doubles as the “you-probably-haven’t-learned-about-Santa-Claus-yet-and-that’s-a-problem-for-all-us-folks-in-the-know” range.

There was no way in which this conversation would end well.

“Uh, he is! Definitely! For sure! I know it! Yeah, he is!” stammered out Peter B.

Now Gwen was annoyed. “Come on, don’t lie to her!”

“Well, we can’t just stamp on Peni’s innocence like that!”

“But she deserves to know the truth!”

“Maybe the truth is something different in her dimension! How would we know?”

Peni looked thoroughly heartbroken. “You mean he’s… not real?”

Noir appeared stunned. “Uhhh…”

Ham butted in. “Uh, yeah, Noir was just kidding around! He wouldn’t know! Go ask your parents!”

“But my dad’s dead!”

“Then, uh, go ask your mom!”

Peter B. interjected. “Please, Peni, don’t worry about it too much. It’s okay to believe.”

Everyone started talking at once, trying to make themselves heard.

“In something obviously false?”

“I mean, the tech is different in her world. Maybe it’s possible?”

“But who would wanna do that?”

“Can we just… stop talking about this?”

“I wanna know the truth! Is Santa real or isn’t he? You’re confusing me!”

May cleared her throat and silenced the hubbub. “Stop arguing. I have fudge.”

Everybody quieted down and took some fudge. It was the perfect distraction.

“So, uh, what was that about making an online dating profile?” asked Peter B. after a couple of awkwardly silent minutes.

May chuckled. “I’ve been single for long enough, I think.”

“Do you need, like, technical help or something?”

May shook her head. “No, I know my way around a computer.”

“You sure?” butted in Gwen.

“Yes, I’m sure. I programmed a neural net two years ago that identifies phishing scams, tracks the IP address of the original sender, installs upside-down-ternet on the device to screw with the UI, and whitelists any phone numbers connected with the email account on seventy-two different telemarketer call lists.”

Gwen’s mouth hung agape.

“Huh?”

“You lost me after neural net,” said Peter B.

May folded her arms over her chest and smirked. “I lose most people after neural net.”

Noir said, “You lost me at program.”

“I understood that. It’s child’s play,” said Peni. “But I can imagine that for you, in as archaic of a society as you are, that’s quite an achievement.”

“Archaic society?” muttered Peter B.

“Then why on earth would you need our help?” asked Ham.

“Because I don’t know what sixty-something-year-old males are looking for in a woman. I mean, what do I put on the profile? What do I leave off? How do I embellish it? How do I get more clicks? Should I tell them I was widowed ten years ago? Should I mention that Spiderman was my nephew?”

Peter’s uncle was dead in this universe? Huh. Gwen was starting to get accustomed to the weird differences between worlds. Of course, she’d thought she’d seen everything until Peni and Ham showed up.

JAMMED FINGERS

Oh, right! Good idea, spider-sense! Thanks for actually being useful for once!

Gwen asked May, “Uh, if you’re so good with tech, could you fix up my webshooters? They keep jamming.”

May grinned. “Of course! Give them to me, and I’ll take a look at them tonight. Now, why don’t you all head off to bed? It’s getting late.”

“And not go on patrol?” asked Noir.

“May’s right,” said Gwen, handing over her gloves. “Not sleeping actually makes our atomic disjunctions worse.”

Everybody at the table gave her a blank look.

“Atomic… what?” asked Peter B.

“The glitching thing.”

“Oh. Gotcha.”

“Where will we sleep?” asked Peni.

That was a good question.

May slipped Gwen’s gloves into her back pocket and thought for a minute. “Uh, there are three rooms and six of us. Hmm… Peter and Peter can take Peter’s old room, and I have a sleeping bag for one of you… Gwen and Peni can take the guest room, since there’s a pull-out cot… I’ll be in my own room… what about Peter?”

“Which one?” asked Peter B., Ham, and Noir simultaneously.

“Uh, I mean the Peter in sweatpants and the Peter in a fedora will share a room. How about you?” May directed the last question to Ham.

He replied, “I can sleep on the couch.”

“Okay, that works. Is everybody okay with that?”

Gwen had no qualms about the setup. Neither did anyone else.

Thirty minutes later, she found herself lying in the cot in the guest room. It was comfortable, as far as pull-out cots go. Peni was half-asleep on the bed, and her spider was on the dresser.

Suddenly, Ham burst through the door. Well, not completely literally, nor did he open the door, but he did appear through the keyhole in a rather sudden fashion. Gwen and Peni both yelled.

“Why do you keep doing that!” exclaimed Gwen.

Ham shrugged. “I’m used to getting places this way. Just wanted to say goodnight to you guys before we all turn in.”

“But, how do you do that? How can you get through tiny gaps like that?” asked Peni.

“I’m, uh, I’m 2.5-dimensional. I think that’s how you’d put it in your worlds. I look and for all purposes am two-dimensional, but I can still move in 3D space and interact with 3D things. Like this picture, for instance.” Ham leaped up and spun around a sepia-tinted photo from the wall, settling it back into place.

“But that doesn’t explain how you can defy gravity,” said Peni.

“That’s toon physics for you.” Ham pulled a pair of spectacles and a graduation cap out of thin air and donned them. He flipped through a comically thick textbook, laid his finger on a paragraph, and began to read. “‘Any body suspended in space will remain in space until made aware of its condition.’ -Paco, 1994.”

“And… you operate by the laws of... toon physics? Even though you’re not in a world with toon physics?” asked Peni.

“Yeah, sure. We operate by the principles of the world that we’re from. I mean, look at Peni. She can summon anime backdrops out of thin air and jump forty feet in the air to land in the cockpit of her robot. And Noir’s still in black-and-white. And Gwen still follows the laws of physics from her universe, which happen to be exactly the same as those here. If there was a spider here from a universe with two extra quarks, he’d use the rules of physics of a universe with two extra quarks.”

Gwen blinked. Ham knew a surprising amount.

“How do you know all of this? I mean, you’re a-”

“A cartoon character, I know,” finished Ham. “I get that a lot. But I’ve been Spider-Ham for 35 years. I know my stuff.”

Gwen made a mental note not to underestimate Ham in the future.

“You, uh, don’t look a day over 35,” she said.

“Yeah that’s another thing. I don’t age. Pretty convenient, if you ask me. Well, good night, folks!” Ham gave a wave, then vanished under the door.

Gwen tried to comprehend everything that had just happened. Ham was really weird. At the same time, he was kind of cool.

“How old are you?” Peni asked after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, take a guess.”

“Fourteen?”

Why did everybody think Gwen was so young?

“Nah, sixteen. How about you?”

“Guess!”

“Uh, you’re like ten?”

“I’m eleven and three quarters.”

Okay, so she was close.

“How many people have you killed?” asked Peni, sounding as chipper as ever.

Gwen blinked. “Uh, one. No, two. Both were accidents.”

“In... two years?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s lame.”

“Why, how about you? And, uh, how long have you been doing this for?”

“Twenty-three people. Over the past five and a half months. And none of them were accidents.”

Peni sounded both completely serious and entirely proud of herself. Best not to dwell on that.

All of a sudden, Gwen burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” asked Peni.

“It’s, well, I was early in getting to this dimension, and Miles made a joke about him being on time and everyone else being late because of relativity, and… never mind. You wouldn’t get it.”

Peni asked, “Could you explain it to me? Maybe then I’d get it.”

“Never mind. It’s a moot point. Go to bed.”

“Aww, come on!”

“Good night!”

Gwen rolled over and faced the wall, ignoring Peni’s pleas. After a couple minutes, she drifted off to sleep.

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#stranded #stranded fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #marvel #spidergwen #spider gwen #spider-gwen #gwen stacy #ghost spider #spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #long post #writing #writers on tumblr #technically swearing

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rebellingstagnationblog · 6 years

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“(There’s No Place Like) Home For The Holidays” - Perry Como

Hello again! Welcome to another year of Darkwing Duck themed Christmas stories! Buckle up, cause we're just getting started. This year features many more narrators with much longer stories than years past.

This first one is for @mistress-negs who requested Darkwing and Negaduck's childhoods, especially in relation to each other.

Enjoy!

Prime Universe, Many Years Ago

The front door opened with an ear-splitting slam!, the tell-tale sign that his father was home after a night of drinking.

Drake jumped, crushing the bristles of his toothbrush between his teeth. He must have gasped, too, because the next thing he knew, he was choking on toothpaste that had slid down his throat. Yanking the brush out of his bill, Drake coughed and spit into the sink, eyes watering and throat burning. He shakily turned the faucet on, cupping the running water and scooping it desperately into his mouth. Hopefully the raw burning sensation would fade quickly so he could catch his breath.

The bathroom door burst open, Drake all but leaping away to avoid getting hit.

"What's all that racket?" Stellar slurred, his suit jacket rumpled and tie askew. The feathers on the top of his head, which were usually pristinely combed back, were sticking up at odd angles. He had probably fallen asleep on the ride home.

"I—" Drake dissolved into another bout of coughs, his hand coming up to his chest as if that would somehow improve his air intake.

"Can't even brush your teeth. God, you're a disappointment."

Ana floated into view, still looking elegant in her long coat. "Do you want some water, Drakey?" she asked, plucking a small paper cup from the medicine cabinet. She filled it before turning off the faucet — something Drake had forgotten to do in his panic — and smiled at him warmly as she handed over the water.

"That sitter gone?" Stellar asked, swaying slightly but managing to catch himself on the door jamb.

"Her name is Kathleen, and she's waiting for me in the kitchen. I'm going to drive her home." Ana's eyes were still fixed on Drake, her smile unwavering. "Did you want to come with me, baby?"

Stellar swore and shook his head. "He's not gonna be able to do anything on his own if you keep smothering him like that."

Ana turned to him, her curls swaying around her shoulders. "Stellar Mallard, go sleep this off."

He scoffed, but pushed himself into the hallway. "The word mother is smother without the 's' y'know."

"Thank you, Socrates." She took his elbow and led him down the hallway.

"Y'should come with me," he said, a soft tone in his voice. Drake turned on the water to drown out the sound, rinsing off his toothbrush.

He hated the annual policeman's ball. His father didn't need an excuse to drink, and he always overdid it when he was with his precinct buddies. Not like Stellar was nice to begin with, but add alcohol and he was downright cruel.

Drake had put away his toothbrush and thrown the cup away when Ana returned. "Did you want to come with me or stay here?"

"Go with you," he said, fetching his coat and slippers. He didn't want to be alone with Stellar if he could help it. When he rejoined Ana in the hallway, she brushed her fingers through Drake's feathers like she knew what he was thinking before leading him out to the kitchen to collect Kathleen.

Ana navigated the streets more carefully than she usually did with yesterday's snow still sticking to the roads. She asked Kathleen all the typical grown-up questions Drake was used to hearing from his relatives this time of year: "How is school going? What's your favorite subject? Do you do anything outside of school? How's that going?"

He slouched down into his seat, wrapping his arms around his middle and watched the blur of Christmas lights pass by his window. The radio was on, but the volume low, so the carols were muffled though still recognizable. With the snow, the lights, and the music it should be easy to get excited for the upcoming holiday.

But all Drake could think about, all he kept hearing in his head over and over and over again was, "Can't even brush your teeth. God, you're a disappointment."

Drake knew he was a disappointment, though. It wasn't a secret. When he brought home a test with a large "A" written at the top, Stellar would ask, "Why isn't it an A+?" If Drake played well at his baseball game, Stellar would mention another player who had performed better. Everything turned into a competition that Drake was determined to win, even though it seemed rigged from the beginning.

Still.

It never made hearing the disparaging remarks any easier. And after hearing them so many times in varied ways, it made Drake wonder. Was he hopeless? Maybe he really couldn't do anything right, and Stellar was tired of having such a worthless kid.

"What do you say to Kathleen, Drakey?"

Drake sat up straighter, realizing they had come to a stop outside his sitter's house. Dutifully, he said, "Thank you for a fun night."

Kathleen smiled at him over her shoulder. "Maybe next time I'll win at UNO."

If she didn't rig the game so Drake would win every time, then yes, she might.

Drake smiled at her and said, "Maybe."

Kathleen climbed out of the car and they waited in the driveway until she was inside her house before turning back for home.

"Stop sulking," said Ana, her blue eyes meeting his in the rear view mirror.

"I'm not—"

"You are. It's nearly Christmas, Drakey. Aren't you excited?"

"I suppose." Drake watched more lights whiz past, his fingers playing with the hem of his jacket. "Do you think Santa will visit me?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Ana brought the car to a stop at a red light.

"Dad said—"

Ana turned in her seat, a fierce look glistening in her eye. "I'm going to stop you right there."

"But, Dad—"

"I don't care what he said. It's not true. Of course Santa is going to visit you." Ana turned back around, easing off the brake when the light turned green. "Unless you haven't been good this year."

"I was! Mostly."

Ana's chuckle was warm. "Then it sounds like you have nothing to worry about."

Silence dropped between them, broken by the soft crooning of the old timey singers. When they were parked in the driveway of the house, Ana turned to face Drake again, a serious look on her face.

"I know your father says things that aren't kind. One day, you'll be able to tell if what he says is actually true or not. But know this," she reached back, caressing his cheek, "you are a good boy. And no matter the time of year, or if presents are on the line, I want you to always try to be good. Can you do that for me?"

Drake thought about it, but was soon lost in the endless blue of her eyes, in how the Christmas lights around them caused her hair to practically glow on its own.

"I think so," he finally said.

Ana smiled. "Then nothing anyone says about you matters, because you know deep down that you're good."

They climbed out of the car and Drake slid his hand into hers as they walked up to the front door.

"Besides," Ana said, squeezing his hand, "someone, somewhere, is having an even worse holiday than you. So no more frowns, mister. It's almost Christmas!"

He tried his best, he really did, lying in bed that night, to think of someone having a worse Christmas. But it was hard to concentrate when he could hear his father's snores echoing down the hall.

—…—…—…—…—…—…—…—

Negaverse, Many Years Ago

"Don't frown, boy! It's nearly Christmas!" Leon gestured to the city square surrounding them, which was decorated within an inch of its life. Miles of garland, wreaths the size of hubcaps, big red bows secured to lampposts, string lights criss crossing between buildings and creating a lattice of glowing bulbs that stretched over the street.

The four main city avenues that led to Town Square were each decorated differently for the holidays. The one where he stood was swimming in golden light offset by the greenery of the plant life.

The next one over boasted red lights on one side of the street and green on the other.

Complicated metal structures hung down in between the buildings over on the opposite street, large spindley things lined with brilliant white lights that reached out in delicate branches like cracks in a frozen lake.

The final street had large illuminated snowflakes hanging from above, suspended next to colossal ornaments, their gleaming multicolored surfaces reflecting the lights around them.

And at the end of each street, in the center of all the downtown hubbub, stood the city's Christmas tree. Half as tall as the skyscrapers around it, branches heavy with ornaments and lanterns and lights of its own. Poinsettias were gathered around the base with grandiose wrapped presents stuck in between.

Everyone planned a trip to downtown St. Canard at least once during the Christmas season, whether they were citizens, visitors from neighboring cities, or tourists from faraway. It truly was a sight to behold.

But Drakey had never been impressed.

It was Mama who loved this time of year. She enjoyed the spirit of the holidays, the decorations, the smells, the chill in the air.

Leon glanced down at Drakey, the fur collar on his coat obscuring the bottom of his face. "You should be excited!"

"I am, Grandfather," Drakey lied easily. He'd gotten to be very good at lying. "Do you know when Mama will come?"

"I'm sure she and your father are on their way," Leon said reassuringly, glancing back up at the decorations. "You want some hot chocolate or something while we wait?"

"No, thank you." Drakey stuffed his gloved hands into his pockets, eyes raking the street for the familiar car.

On the one hand, he was desperate to see his mother again; the two days he'd spent away from her had seemed an eternity.

On the other, he was wary of seeing his father after only two short days apart. He wished his mother could pick him up by herself, but her doctors said she shouldn't drive with the medicine she was taking. Drakey wasn't sure what sort of illness Mama had — no one would tell him no matter how many times he asked — but it was bad enough to take away her colors; her cheeks had turned gray instead of pink, her eyes dulled to a pale blue, and her hair thinning yellow instead of flowing gold. She'd lost a lot of weight when she had been small to begin with, and she tired faster than she used to.

Even with all the changes, she was still the most beautiful thing Drakey had ever seen.

The sound of crunching snow caused Drakey to turn and his beak split into a grin as he saw the Benz pull up to the curb, the black paint a blight on the otherwise bright world. The veneer didn't reflect the lights around it so much as it sucked it all away like a black hole.

No sooner had the vehicle come to a stop that Mama was out of the car, smiling at him.

Drakey couldn't help himself. He sprinted over with a cry of, "Mama!" and leapt towards her, throwing his arms wide.

But something sharp snagged the back of his coat, yanking him backwards and practically choking him with the force of it. Drakey was on the verge of protesting, craning his neck up to demand to be released, when he saw the sneering face of his father peering down at him. He wilted, hanging like a ragged doll from Stellar's clutches.

"Your mother is in no condition to be catching wayward limpets, boy," he snapped, eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Oh, Stellar, it's all right," soothed Mama, walking closer and smiling down at Drakey. "I can still catch my son."

"Not after your treatment today," said Stellar, his voice softer as he looked at her. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

When Mama opened her beak to protest further, Leon lumbered over, saying, "Your husband knows what's best for you, dear heart. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm?"

Mama glanced down at Drakey. "But—"

"I really think that's best," said Stellar, something like sincerity tinging his tone. "Please? We'll join you in just a moment."

Mama looked between the two men before she emitted a heavy sigh and headed to the car, climbing into the back seat. Drakey suppressed his whimper at seeing his mother disappear.

Leon turned to look at Stellar. "How was your dinner?"

"Productive," said Stellar, his grip not loosening on the collar of Drakey's coat. Drakey didn't dare squirm or try to kick his legs so he might free himself. Stellar would only get angry.

"Will we get funding for the new community center?"

Stellar grinned, a predatory look crossing his features. "I think so. Mr. Lee was much more cooperative tonight."

Leon nodded. "I am sure the man is eager to finish up his business transactions so he can return home to await news." He tugged at the sleeves of his coat. "Terrible thing, his children going missing."

"Indeed." Stellar raised his arm, bringing Drakey up to his eye level. "Children go missing all the time, Christmas holiday or no. Learn to behave yourself in a dignified manner so you, too, won't be snatched off the streets." Stellar reached out and placed a finger under Drakey's chin, saying, "I am only doing what's best for you."

In the next moment, Drakey was all but dropped onto the ground. The impact was so sudden, and the ground still slippery from the recent snowfall, that Drakey ended up falling down with a dull thud.

Stellar rolled his eyes and sneered, "Go to the car."

Not needing to be told twice, Drakey scampered away and thrust himself inside. Where his mother was waiting.

She enfolded him in a warm hug, Drakey burrowing into her embrace and clinging to her.

Her fingers stroked his feathers as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Did you have fun with your grandfather?"

Drakey nodded even though he really hadn't had a fun time. "We looked at Christmas decorations today."

"Aren't they beautiful?" Mama asked, squeezing him tighter. "Christmas is such a magical time of year."

A chilled breeze blustered in as one of the car doors opened. "Damnit, boy," sneered Stellar and Drakey clung to Mama's warmth all the tighter. "You tracked snow all over the backseat."

"It's not his fault," said Mama.

"Clumsy thing." Stellar closed the driver's door with a loud snap. "When we get home, you're cleaning out all the gunk you dragged in here."

"It's nearly his bedtime."

Stellar looked around, disdain evident in the frown his beak was pulled into. "Then he'll need to be quick about it."

Drakey eyed Stellar warily, fisting the slippery material of Mama's gown.

She rubbed his back. "I'll help you, Baby Boy."

"No, you won't," Stellar bit back. "The child needs to learn to clean up his own messes. And you should rest once we get home."

"Oh, Stellar—"

"Ana," Stellar said, his face morphing into something close to concern as he looked at her. "You heard what Dr. Bronwen said today. You need to work on getting your strength back."

"Cleaning a car won't kill me."

"This isn't about a car. I want you to get better. And if that means you do less housework for a little while, then that's what we'll do." Stellar's eyes softened. "Don't you want to watch Drake grow up?"

Mama's arms tightened around Drakey. "Of course I do."

"Then you should rest once we get home and let him clean the car." Stellar looked to Drakey, a sinister grin replacing the soft expression on his face. "If it makes you feel better, I'll help him."

Drakey shuddered.

Mama drew him closer, rubbing his arms as if he was cold. "That would make me feel better."

Stellar nodded and turned around, putting the car in gear and easing out into the streets.

Drakey clung onto Mama the whole trip home, his eyes squeezed shut so he wouldn't see the Christmas decorations his mother loved so much. He didn't want to think of the softly glowing lights every time he remembered this night. Didn't want to equate the warmth of Christmas with Stellar's cold cruelty.

He hoped it would work. That the holiday season wouldn't be tainted with the dark memories Stellar plagued him with. That it could stay merry and bright his whole life long.

#darkwing duck #geronimo series #25 days of ficmas #drake mallard #negaduck

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joyful-enchantress · 2 years

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I posted 566 times in 2022

That's 441 more posts than 2021!

29 posts created (5%)

537 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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@sarahscribbles

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I tagged 198 of my posts in 2022

#loki - 123 posts

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Longest Tag: 90 characters

#the way he used his own magic to restrain himself so his queen could have her way with him

My Top Posts in 2022:

Some original art I did for the story GREEN by @youlightmeupfinn 💚

I’m so excited for this story and it means so much that Taylor liked my idea for it enough to write it as part of her Color Collection and it has had me feeling SO inspired so I created this!

Check out all her work, by the way. You MOST CERTAINLY won’t be disappointed.

29 notes - Posted January 3, 2022

I figured a teaser couldn't hurt...

On the Naughty List coming soon.

"Oh you're in for it now, pet." He turned around, ever so slowly, his lips upturned into a menacing smile and his emerald eyes burning with the promise of what was to come.

You decided to play right into his hands.

"Have I earned a spot on the naughty list, Sir?"

He gazed back at you with a hungry expression, his pupils dilating with lust; you knew the effect that particular word had on him. He began stalking towards you, like a predator cornering his prey.

"That goes without saying, Y/N. Your misbehavior is simply unacceptable. Now, do you know what happens to naughty girls?"

He was right in front of you once again, towering over you and looking down his nose directly into your eyes.

"They don't get any presents?" you suggest with feigned innocence.

"They must be punished." he declared with such authority, it left no room for argument.

@lokisgoodgirl @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @pineappleandro @lokischambermaid @simplyholl @gigglingtigger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @mochie85 @vbecker10 @michelleleewise @fictive-sl0th @holdmytesseract @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @holymultiplefandomsbatman

113 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

Evergreen | Loki x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k (I know, I know... not technically a drabble)

Christmas Eve.

It was a special day for you and Loki -- it was the day he finally asked to court you after more than a year of relentlessly flirting with each other and finding every excuse to be together.

"Merry Christmas and Happy Anniversary, Lohks. I've been looking forward to seeing you all day."

"As have I, my love. Every moment I'm not with you seems to drag on for eternity," he whispered against your lips. "Happy Anniversary and Merry Christmas, Y/N"

"You're certainly dressed up this year, Loki. I mean, you always look dashingly handsome, of course, but a full suit and tie this year? I'm a lucky lady," you smirked at him.

"Neither could I," you sighed contentedly.

As you sipped your hot cocoa, chatting and sharing the occasional chocolate-laced kiss, Christmas music was softly playing in the background. Everything was perfect in this moment.

"Well, darling, shall we exchange gifts then, before we get too lost in each other to remember or care?" he asked as he brushed his nose against your neck.

You gasped, speechless, as you approached him.

Tears of joy sprang from your eyes as you listened to him. You couldn't believe it. This was really happening.

"Of course I will," you managed to speak, "Yes, Loki, I'll marry you!"

You would happily don his colors forever. Ever his. Evergreen.

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134 notes - Posted December 10, 2022

I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas | Loki x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hello! This is my FIRST EVER fic and I’m so excited to share it! I wrote it as part of the Winter Warmers collection that @lokisgoodgirl so graciously opened for contributions. I hope you enjoy!

Update: I wrote a companion piece to this! See how their story continues in Evergreen.

Genre: Friends to lovers, fluff, humor, suggestive thoughts, slight angst (if you squint)

Word Count: 2k

Loki Laufeyson.

The man of your dreams. Or, should you say, the god of your dreams.

Ever since he had reluctantly joined the Avengers last year, you couldn’t get him out of your head. The jet-black hair that fell in cascades, providing a brilliant contrast to the alabaster skin of his face, stretched tautly over sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jaw. You’d idly wondered if you could indeed cut yourself on his cheekbones – and what his jaw might taste like – and you were slightly embarrassed at just how badly you wanted to find out.

Then there were his eyes – were they emerald green? Or perhaps ocean blue? You could never quite decide. Their gorgeous color seemed to ebb and shift just as much as the crystalline tides. Regardless of their color, they always appeared to be sparkling with mischief; glinting with the thoughts of his next scheme. And Loki usually wore some kind of impish smile to complement his twinkling eyes; you swore the way his lips twisted into those cunning smirks could bring you to your knees – not that you’d be complaining about being in that position…not for him, anyway.

Sigh. Your thoughts hadn’t even wandered below his neck yet, and you were already in need of a cold shower. Was he even aware of the hold he had on you?

Sometimes, you suspected that he knew. You were fast friends after he joined the team and moved into the tower, and not long after, you began to consider him your best friend. The two of you spent countless hours together – almost every free moment you both had to spare. Your time spent with him came with inevitable physical contact - innocent brushes of fingertips as you’d both reach for the last snack, warm hugs, and intimate contact while sparring. Sometimes, even, the occasional wrestling-match-turned-tickle-fight. Each touch, no matter the context, lit your skin on fire, burning with your desire for more. The conversations you had with him were often laced with innuendo; he’d make a suggestive remark and his lips would curl into a devilish grin as he watched the blush blossom over your neck and cheeks.

But – you told yourself – it didn’t mean anything; that’s just who he was: a relentless flirt. He’d often brag of his sexual exploits back on Asgard (which would also cause you to blush and choke on your drinks), and it was clear that Loki Laufeyson had quite the queue of women at his bedroom door, hoping for the chance to spend a night of passion with him. Perhaps there was some mild attraction, but there was no way he would ever have genuine interest in someone like you. How could he, when he was so damned perfect? And you were, well… you.

Last Christmas was his first “Midgardian Christmas” as he liked to call it. You had fond memories of showing him the traditional customs – decorating, wrapping gifts, watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate, and you even got him to join in on some Christmas caroling. Your favorite memory from last year, though, was when he showed you his apartment at the Avengers tower. You had been inside before, of course, but he was so excited to show you how he decorated it himself, using what he learned after you had dragged him along with you to help decorate every other nook and cranny of the compound…

“Do you like it, darling? Did I live up to your rigorous standards?”

“Loki…” you gasped, “This is breathtaking!”

He beamed. “Well, I did have a masterful teacher.”

There was that damned smirk again.

“You’ve given it your own… flavor, too, I see.”

“There was no other option, Y/N. Midgardian Christmas decor consists of entirely too much red for my taste,” he remarked with a cringe. “It really is quite tacky. I’ve taken a more… elegant approach.”

“But what about holly berries? Candy canes? Poinsettias? Red ribbon, even?”

“What was that song you taught me last week? White Christmas? Well in here, darling, we have a Green Christmas, take it or leave it.”

Pulling yourself back to the present moment, you chuckled at the memory. Of course he couldn’t stand to see so much of his brother’s colors in his own quarters. Loki’s room was immaculately adorned with festive decorations, and not a speck of red could be found. The green fir tree in the corner was spectacularly embellished with glittering bulbs of the brightest emerald, silver, and gold. White lights and silver tinsel added to the sparkle, and nestled at the precipice was a beautifully ornate silver spinning wheel, a symbol of his mother, Frigga. The windows in his room were frosted, even though it hadn’t snowed that day, and when you approached them to investigate, you noticed they were not cold to the touch. Loki had frosted them himself, using his power as a Jotun, and then used his seidr to seal them so the frost would not melt, nor would the unwelcome chill seep into the cozy room. Hanging in each of the frosted windows was a green wreath, each one complete with a golden bow and a flickering candle. His usual black furniture and rich, emerald green soft furnishings throughout the room brought the entire look together. It was warm and inviting, but also strong and dark – just like him.

Here you were, daydreaming of that Green Christmas last year, and the nights you would have liked to spend in his room… in his bed.

It just wouldn’t do any more. Being best friends wasn’t enough; you needed more. Christmas was all about letting people know how much you love them, right? You resolved that you would tell Loki your true feelings for him on Christmas Eve.

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

Christmas Eve arrived in the blink of an eye, and you’d never been more nervous in your life. You had rehearsed over and over again the words that you would say to him, but you feared it wouldn’t be enough. Or maybe it would be too much? Would it scare him away? Would you lose his friendship, that was so dear to you?

Stop it. You could do this.

You picked up the emerald green box adorned with a golden bow, which contained your gift for him. You had gotten him a simple and elegant tie clip, made of platinum, with a single emerald inlaid on the end. It had made you think of him right away when you saw it in the jewelry store, your mind immediately wandering to the thought of him in his all-black suit and tie combo, with that tie clip displayed proudly against his chest.

With the gift box in hand, you began your pilgrimage to his private quarters, where you had plans to do your gift exchange. As you approached the door, the flutters in your stomach increased their tempo from allegro to prestissimo; the blood pounding in your ears rose to a deafening crescendo. You audibly exhaled, trying desperately to catch your breath, and your hand trembled as it made its descent to give a shaky knock on the door. Your body was a perfect symphony of nervousness.

Loki promptly answered with his signature bright smile and twinkling eyes.

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503 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

On the Naughty List (18+) | Loki x Fem!Reader

A/N: Everyone has been so welcoming and kind and encouraging with my first fic that I decided to try my hand at another one! This is also my first try with smut, so apologies if it is awkward at all. I hope you like it! It is another installment in the Winter Warmers Collection curated by @lokisgoodgirl

Genre/Warnings: Smut (18+), soft(ish) Dom!Loki, here be filth, some fluff too, established relationship, language, restraints, spanking, nipple play (clamps), temperature play, edging/orgasm delay, begging, oral f!receiving, choking (if you squint)

Word Count: 4377

"Stop, Loki! Ahhhhh, stop, please!" you shrieked wildly as Loki playfully but mercilessly pelted you with icy snowballs.

You loved seeing him like this, completely lost in a moment of carefree fun. His eyes were alight with that familiar glint of mischief and the midday rays reflecting off the surrounding snow seemed to dance across his porcelain skin. He was beautiful. And he was yours. An arrogant smile slowly melted into his features as he responded to your request for a ceasefire.

"What's the matter, darling? Can't handle everything I have to offer?" he quipped with a wink.

Damn him and his relentless innuendo. A slight blush crept across your cheeks at his words.

"Oh, I know I can handle all of you, Laufeyson. I've done it many times before," you decided to give it right back to him. "What I can't handle is any more snowballs to the face or soaking through my coat. Not all of us have an endless tolerance for cold, you know!"

Given Loki's heritage, he required no protective outerwear during your childish winter antics. Not that you truly minded -- it meant you got to enjoy a better view of those sinful hands of his, the long, elegant fingers flexing dexterously as he packed the glittering snow into nearly perfect spheres. But, perhaps, his affinity for the cold did give him an unfair advantage in this case.

"I can think of several things I could do to warm you right up, love. Things I could do with my fingers..." he twirled his delectable digits seductively and nearly had you drooling. "...or my mouth..." his skillful tongue peered through the curtains that were his luscious lips and slowly swiped along his top lip just before he smirked knowingly and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. "...or my cock."

Had the temperature suddenly risen? Your thighs clenched together involuntarily, your body already yearning for the sweet friction, and the slightest whimper escaped your lips at his salacious words.

He paced towards you, closing the distance until there was none left, and his warm breath was fanning across your neck as he bent to whisper in your ear.

"Although," he continued, "judging by your reaction thus far, I could probably keep you warm with my words alone." His voice seemed to drop an octave, and assumed that familiar huskiness that he reserved only for you in your most private moments with him. "Maybe we should test the theory, hmm? Would you like that, darling?" His tongue darted out to lick the shell of your ear.

"Yes, Loki..." you breathed, your own voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let's be done with our game and go inside. I need you."

"As you wish, my love," he placed a wet kiss along your jawline. "Follow me."

He began the short walk back to the cozy home the two of you shared, his broad back to you. The wet spots he left on your ear and jaw began to sting in the frigid winter air. You absent-mindedly reached up to soothe the ache with your gloved fingertips, and as you turned to admire the way the dark jeans he was wearing hugged his perfect ass as he strode towards the house, the temptation was too great. You simply could not resist.

THWAK!

A perfectly thrown snowball hit him in the back of the head, bursting into a flurry of snow that clung to his ebony curls and drifted down his neck and across his back.

"Oh you're in for it now, pet." He turned around, ever so slowly, his lips upturned into a menacing smile and his emerald eyes burning with the promise of what was to come.

You decided to play right into his hands.

"Have I earned a spot on the naughty list, Sir?"

He gazed back at you with a hungry expression, his pupils dilating with lust; you knew the effect that particular word had on him. He began stalking towards you, like a predator cornering his prey.

"That goes without saying, Y/N. Your misbehavior is simply unacceptable. Now, do you know what happens to naughty girls?"

He was right in front of you once again, towering over you and looking down his nose directly into your eyes.

"They don't get any presents?" you suggest with feigned innocence.

"They must be punished." he declared with such authority, it left no room for argument.

"Oh really? Just what exactly do you -- AHH!"

Before you could even finish your snarky response, he had you draped over his shoulder, your eyes staring at his perfect backside and his strong arm flexed behind your knees, holding you in place. His other hand rose up to give your unsuspecting bottom a warning smack.

"No more questions, darling. You're in enough trouble as it is."

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589 notes - Posted November 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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noona-clock · 6 years

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Two Tickets

Nam Joo Hyuk as your secret Santa at the office (you know... the game where you get matched with people to give and anonymous gifts for a while, revealing identities at the end)... maybe the two of you are each other's secret Santa? And the revelation is really cute 😍

Sure thing, anon!! It’s been a hot minute since I wrote for my boyfriend! (and by ‘a hot minute’ I mean ‘a week or so’)

Genre: Office!AU/Fluff

Pairing: Nam Joo Hyuk x You

By Admin B

Joo Hyuk

Your heart skipped a tiny beat as you read the name on the slip of paper you’d drawn.

Usually, you were pretty pumped for your work Secret Santa; you were the kind of person who was weirdly amazing at picking out presents, no matter how well you knew them. You were very observant, and you were also super nosy, so you eavesdropped on a lot of conversation. You weren’t a gossip, though, so nobody ever really knew how you came up with these perfect gifts.

But Joo Hyuk?

Oh, god.

You had no idea what to get him because you had a major, massive, high school level crush on him, and you felt like whatever present you got for him would just be glaringly obvious. He would open it and know instantly you liked him.

You glanced over at his desk, your brow furrowing when you saw him reading his own slip of paper through his adorable round glasses. A slight smirk pulled at his lips and he reached into his pocket for his wallet, tucking the name inside.

You had to stop yourself from audibly sighing because his desk was right across from yours; he would definitely hear you and ask you what’s wrong. He was caring and thoughtful like that, and that was just one reason why you had such a huge crush on him.

You spent the next month agonizing over what to buy him, and at the last minute, you finally just decided to go big or go home.

You’d learned somewhat recently he was pretty into basketball, so you searched on one of those ticket discount websites and found two tickets to an upcoming game for your city’s professional team. It would definitely be the talk of the Christmas office party, and he might even refuse them because they definitely went over the $30 price limit, but...

Oh, well.

Christmas was a time to tell the truth.

Not that you would actually be telling the truth and confessing your feelings, but... giving him tickets to a basketball game would be basically the same thing.

The day of the party, you physically could not get your heart to stop hammering inside your chest. You could feel the tickets burning a hole in your purse, and you were more nervous than ever about his reaction. He would probably know right away you were trying to impress him, and he would either thank you politely and avoid you for the rest of eternity or just straight out reject you and give you the tickets back. And you certainly didn’t want to go to a basketball game; ice hockey was more your thing.

Either way, you would never be able to show your face at work again.

You might as well start job hunting now.

When your boss announced it was time for a “special meeting” in the conference room, you took a deep breath, grabbed the gift-wrapped envelope from your purse, and followed your co-workers to the party.

A small Christmas tree had been set up and decorated in the conference room, and Christmas music was playing softly on someone’s phone as the soft murmur of your co-workers chatting idly filled the air.

You laid your envelope with the pile of other gifts, glancing over the others to see if you could find yours. Before you could, though, your boss clapped his hands and proclaimed the start of the gift exchange.

The person hired last was chosen to start, picking their gift from the pile and handing it to their Secret Santa. And that person, after opening their gift, went and did the same thing. If everybody picked somebody other than the person who picked them, it would be a complete circle and no one would be left at the end wondering where their present was.

But, of course... you lived in the real world, and things did not always work out in the real world.

After almost everyone had given and received their presents, there were a few minutes of awkward silence where nobody knew who was going next. The person who had just received their gift had already given one, so it was just a matter of finding out who hadn’t gone yet.

“All right, who still needs to give their present? Or get one?” your boss asked, searching the room.

You timidly raised your hand, trying not to notice Joo Hyuk had also raised his hand.

“All right, you two go get your gifts and give them to your Secret Santa.”

You smiled awkwardly at Joo Hyuk when he gestured for you to go first, walking over to the table and picking up your envelope. You waited for Joo Hyuk to get his present, as well, (which was also an envelope...), and then...

You held out your gift to him at the same time he held his out to you.

“Aww, look at that!” one of your co-workers cried with a gleeful clap. “That’s so cute, they had each other!”

Your cheeks warmed significantly as you took the envelope from Joo Hyuk, waiting for him to take yours before opening it.

Your hands were honestly shaking as you opened the envelope, and then... your eyes widened when you saw what was inside.

Oh, no, you’d obviously grabbed his envelope by accident and given him his own present because you were currently opening your present for Joo Hyuk!

You reached in and took out the tickets, looking up and opening your mouth to inform him of the mistake.

But you saw he was also holding tickets.

Wait, what?

Your eyes quickly shifted down to the tickets you were holding. It took you a few seconds to realize they weren’t the basketball tickets you’d purchased; they were tickets to an upcoming hockey game.

“Whoa!” a co-worker gasped, walking up to Joo Hyuk and taking the tickets out of his hands. “Wildcat tickets?!”

And then the same co-worker took the tickets out of your hands. “And Pirates tickets?! Damn, you guys went all out!”

Oh... oh my god. Joo Hyuk had gotten you tickets to a hockey game.

You’d been worrying night and day about getting him those basketball tickets, wondering what his reaction would be... and then he goes and gives you hockey tickets?!

What did this mean?!

Once the hubbub of the Secret Santa game had died down, you approached Joo Hyuk with a very anxious, furrowed brow. He immediately grinned at you which succeeded in easing your worries just a tad, but your voice was still a bit shaky with nerves.

“Wow,” you began, already feeling like an idiot. “Thank you so much. How did you know I like hockey?”

“How did you know I like basketball?” he countered with a soft chuckle.

He had a good point.

“So... you gave me two tickets,” he pointed out. You were about to point out he’d done exactly the same thing, but he spoke again before you could. “Would you... I don’t know, you can say ‘no,’ but... would you maybe... want to go with me?”

Your heart stopped, and you honestly felt like you were going to burst with anxiety and nerves and happiness and oh my god Joo Hyuk had just asked you out.

A grin pulled at your lips, and you responded with something you never thought you would ever be able to think up on the spot: “Only if you go to the hockey game with me.”

Joo Hyuk’s smile grew, and your heartbeat started back up at the sight of it.

“Deal.”

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