#Elf Dad Just Trying His Best

[damallarky]

So nothing gets me out of a ten year writer's slump like Dragon Age, apparently. I was going to write a quick character study for my Rook, but then it took a life of its own and turned into a 5000+ word monstrosity.

You can also read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57135346

Anyway, my first fic in ten years. Enjoy!

-

At the Black Swan tavern in Minrathous, an elven man with bright red hair sat on a massive barrel, tuning a lute. At first glance, it would appear that he was entirely engrossed in the instrument. If they paid close attention, however, they would notice his green eyes dart imperceptibly from guest to guest as if taking stock of each person who entered the tavern. 

To be fair, this was exactly what Renan was doing. The Shadow Dragons had been given a tip that the Venatori were having a meeting here tonight. He had been given instructions to keep an eye on them, make a note of how many attended, and if there was anyone there he recognized. 

Ren was good at that, using his talent at the lute, voice, and good looks to get him information, and he used his particular skill set often. Sometimes, he played in chamber halls and ballrooms of the Minrathous elite, and they were goldmines, to be sure. But if he was honest, he preferred the establishments of the working class. One would be surprised at how much information could be gained at the taverns and brothels of the world. 

Even better, Ren was familiar with this particular tavern, having played here countless times before. 

‘See anything good yet, Hope?’ He thought through the bond to his spirit companion, currently flitting between the rafters somewhere. He thought he had caught a glimpse of black feathers once or twice, but he couldn’t be sure. 

‘No. Not yet.’ He heard her say. 

Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, he saw the vision of a mouse cleaning itself on one of the rafters, not noticing the great, winged beast lurking in the shadows a mere foot away.

‘Hope…’, Ren moaned internally, ‘I just fed you.’

‘Well, yes… But I am still hungry.’

‘Well, I don’t want to find puked-up mouse bones on my pillow tonight. Again.'

‘Ugh. Fine.’ Hope grumbled.

Ren could practically feel the eye roll from his companion, and he struggled to keep his face neutral. He was halfway through tuning a string to A when his own stomach began to grumble. He hadn’t had much to eat today, or at all, what little he did have going to fill his daughter Esana’s belly. 

‘Maybe I should catch a mouse for you to eat.’ He heard Hope say. 

‘Thanks, but no…’

‘When was the last time you ate?’

‘In the morning.’

‘Which morning?’

‘…’

‘Renan…’

‘…Yesterday.’

‘RENAN.’

Ren winced against the shrill voice echoing in his head. A man sitting at a table nearby gave him an odd look, to which Ren responded with a sheepish wave.

“Lute strings!” He said in way of explanation. “They don’t make them like they used to.”

The man merely grunted and went back to his tankard. 

‘Look, Hope.’ He said. ‘I promise I will get something to eat tonight after we’re through.’

‘I will hold you to that, Renan.’

The tavern began to fill in earnest as more workers ended their day shift. Amongst the crowd, Ren noticed a group of shifty-eyed men gathering at a nondescript table closer to the back of the bar. It had probably the worst lighting in the entire tavern, but the darkness made it particularly well suited for those who maybe didn’t want to be watched too closely, such as lovers…. Or secretive organizations.

Interesting…

‘Is Esana still in our room?’ Ren asked as he tuned a string to E flat. 

‘Yes,’ came Hope’s reply, ‘She was asleep when I left. Why?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t want a repeat of last time, where she snuck out for an entire hour without anyone noticing after I explicitly told her not to?’

‘Ah, yes. Wherever does your daughter get her complete and utter disregard for authority? It is truly a mystery for the ages.’

Ren couldn’t help but laugh at that. Hope had become quite adept at using sarcasm over the years. 

‘Fair.’ He said. ‘I suppose she does come by it naturally.’

‘What is that mortal saying about apples and trees?’

‘Har har. Alright you made your point.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Ren saw a man walk in that he recognized. The thin, balding man was a Magister, albeit a low-ranking one. Ren couldn’t remember what the man actually did in the Magisterium, exactly, only that it was something asinine.

Asinine or note, that didn’t explain what he was doing here, of all places. The Black Swan was a little too plebeian for most Magisters.

‘Well, well.’ He thought ‘Look who’s slummin’ it up with the rest of us. Interesting.’

‘That is the man in charge of grain tax collection!’ He heard Hope say.

‘He is?’ Ren asked. ‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I pay attention, Renan.’

‘Oh… Well, I’m glad one of us does…’

Ren’s interest peaked even further as he watched as the magister walk to the back, taking a seat at the table with the group Ren had noticed earlier.

Very interesting…

‘Alright, it looks like the Venatori dinner party has started. Table in the back.’ He said. ‘Let’s get to work, shall we?’           

‘We shall. Good luck, Ren.’

‘You as well, Hope.’

Ren walked up the stairs to the small stage at the front of the bar. With a bright grin, he played the first few notes of the song on his lute and began to sing.

“Oh, come along with me, love.

Come along with me.

Come for one night and be my wife.

And come along with me.”

While still playing the notes to the chorus on the lute, Ren stopped singing to address the crowd.

“Grata! Bienviedo! Welcome good people of Minrathous.” He said. “My name is Rook, and I am here to add a little song to your evening. But enough with the pleasantries! The night is young, and I don’t know about you lot, but I am far, far too sober!”

His grin broadened as the crowd began to laugh and cheer. Ren heard a few of them shout, “Here, here!” and his playing grew stronger as he egged the crowd on further. 

“So, let’s raise a glass,” Ren crowed, “and let the night of drinking and debauchery begin!”

And, with that, he began to sing once more, his voice strong and clear.

“Well it is of a jolly butcher, as you might plainly see,

As he roved out one morning in search of company.

He went into a tavern and a fair girl he did see

And said ‘Come for one night and be my wife,

Oh come along with me!’”

Ren jumped off of the stage and began to weave in and around the tables as he continued his song. 

“He called for liquor of the best

And he made such fortune play

‘Come have a drink, it'll make us think

That it is our wedding day’”

‘I cannot hear them, Renan.’ He heard Hope’s voice say in his head as he played. ‘Distract them so I can fly down and slip underneath their table.’

Ren began to maneuver himself to the back of the bar, stopping every so often to play at another table to make it look less conspicuous. He danced around a waitress as she was carrying mugs of ale, giving her a bright smile that made her blush prettily. Finally, he stopped at the Venatori’s table, placing his foot on the edge of the table top with a thunk. Balancing his lute on his knee while he played, he leaned forward and winked at the Magister, who fumed. So focused were they all at the elf and his sheer audacity, that they didn’t notice the small black figure silently fly down from the rafters, dodge the various foot traffic, and tiptoe underneath the table.

‘I made it, Ren!’ Hope crowed, triumphantly.

Ren beamed at the crowd and continued his song.

“Well, he called for a candle to light their way to bed

And when he had her in the room these words to her he said

‘A sovereign I will give to you for to embrace your charms.’

And all that night, that fair young maid lied in the butcher's arms.

Oh, come along with me, love

Come along with me!

Come for one night and be my wife

And come along with me.

Well, about one year later he went roving out once more,

And he went into the tavern where he'd often been before.

He wasn't in there very long when his fair maid he did see,

And she brought forth a baby three months old and placed it on his��knee.”

Some of the crowd began to chuckle as they realized where the song was going. Ren’s playing picked up in volume as he reached the punch line. 

“And when he saw the baby, he began to curse and swear

And he said unto that fair young maid, ‘Why did you bring him here?!’

‘Well, he is your own, kind sir’, she said, ‘Do not think me strange

Well, that sovereign that you gave to me, well I gives you back your change!’”

The crowd burst into raucous laughter, and Ren couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as he finished the song.

“Oh, come along with me, love

Come along with me!

Come for one night and be my wife

And come along with me!”

With a flourish he played the last few chords as the crowd’s laughter turned into applause. He gave a bow, and as he stood back up he saw a flash of red dart through the crowd.

“Dammit.” He muttered. 

‘What happened?’ He heard Hope ask. He turned to the crowd.

“Thank you! You have been a wonderful audience!” Ren exclaimed. “Don’t forget to tip your waitresses! If you need me, I’ll be by the bar.”

The crowd quickly went back to their food and drink, and Ren made a beeline for the bar. 

‘I thought you said Esana was sleeping.’ He demanded through the bond. 

‘She was!’ The spirit replied. ‘I thought she was. Oh! But she might have been faking, now that I think about it. The snoring was a bit too loud.’

To which Ren could only groan.

The Maker had to have it out for him. That was the only explanation. 

‘Don’t move, Hope.’ He said. ‘Keep listening in on the Venatori. I want to have something to report back to the Dragons before the night is over.’

“Only one song tonight, Rook?” Asked one of the waitresses, Rosa, as she carried a tray full of food and drink.

“Can’t be helped, Rosa.” He said as he approached the bar. The barkeeper, a jovial older man with a wiry frame and bright eyes named Julius, poured him a glass of water with a knowing grin.

“Loose something?” He asked.

“Ugh.” Was Ren’s articulate response. Julius only laughed as Ren downed the water in one gulp before setting the glass back down on the counter with a thunk.

“You didn’t happen to see which way she went, did you?” Ren asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Aye. She snuck out the back door.” 

“Thank you, Julius.”

“Best of luck, Rook!” 

-

Ren stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the cool night air to center himself. He needed to remain calm. Esana couldn’t have gotten far.

In the distance he heard the sound of cheering. Children cheering. He relaxed slightly; he had a feeling whatever was going on, Esana was probably around, if not directly involved.

He followed the sound of cheering until he turned a corner and found himself staring at a veritable horde of children all gathered around a circle. In the middle, playing what looked like a game of bones against an older human boy, was Esana.

“That looks like another game for me!” She exclaimed as she grabbed the copper pieces and put it in her already fairly substantial pile of winnings.

The boy didn’t seem too pleased. 

“That’s not fair!” He cried. “You cheated!”

“How do you cheat at bones, Dax?” One of the other children asked. Dax’s face only grew more red as the other children began to laugh. 

“Yeah, Dax.” Esana taunted as she began to count her winnings. “Don’t be a sore looser.”

“Why you-“

Whatever Dax was about to say was cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the alley. Out of the darkness, a behemoth of a man emerged. He had lank, dark hair that clung to his face and a scar that ran from one side of his neck to the other. He approached the children, most of whom had already scurried away, and sneered at them with yellowing teeth. 

“What do we have here?” The large man asked as he loomed over the children eyeing the pile of money. “You brats got some money for me?”

“No!” Esana cried. “That’s mine!” She stood up, putting herself between the man and the coin. 

Ren could have sworn his heart had stopped beating then, as he watched the giant man loom over his daughter. His daughter, who looked so very small standing in that man’s shadow. Thinking quickly, Ren grabbed a bottle from a nearby drunkard and flicked a coin his way before the man could complain too much.  

“What did you say, little knife ear?” The man sneered as he pulled an out a wicked looking dagger. “Perhaps I should teach you a lesson of what happens when pests like you talk back to your betters.”

Esana’s eyes widened as the knife was held merely inches from her face. The man made to grab her, but before he could do anything, Ren staggered out of the darkness as if drunk, practically barreling into the man. He made a show of spilling the contents of his bottle all over the man’s clothes. 

“M’so sorry, serah.” He said, slurring his words together. “It seems I-“ and he hiccuped here for effect “-I can’t seem to hold me liquor! Can’t seem to carry it neither.”

Ren gave his best drunken laugh as he pointed to the almost empty bottle of booze. Predictably, the man took the bait, grabbing Ren by the collar and shoving him hard against the wall. 

“Stupid elf! I should gut you here and now!” 

Too busy threatening him, the man didn’t notice Ren pull on the Fade, summoning flames in his left hand. 

“Gut me?” Ren asked, feigning innocence. “While you’re on fire?”

The man stared at Ren in confusion before bursting into laughter.

“On fire? You must be drunker than I-“

Suddenly, the man let out an inhuman screech as Ren held the flame against the man’s alcohol drenched clothes, quickly setting them ablaze with a satisfying woosh. The man dropped Ren as he tried to quickly strip off his burning clothes.

Ren, for his part, didn’t need to be told twice. Grabbing his daughter, he took off running down the narrow alley. 

They had made it almost halfway back to the Black Swan when he stopped to catch his breath. He looked down at his daughter and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Getting down on one knee he began to look her over.

“Are you alright?” He asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine.” 

Ren nodded. That would have to do. For now, at least.

Together, father and daughter ran the rest of the way back to the Black Swan. When finally they arrived at the back entrance, the adrenaline seemed to leave Ren all at once, leaving him drained. He sank onto one of the large crates nearby, placing his head in his hands as the reality of what almost happened hit him like a druffalo. 

Esana stood there nervously, sensing, perhaps, that she had crossed a line somewhere. 

“Papa, I’m-“

Ren cut her off. 

“Esana,” he began, frustration filling the void where fear and adrenaline once were, “How many times have I told you that you cannot go out at night on your own?”

“I was just-“

“And yet, you continue to deliberately disobey me. And for what? A handful of coin?”

“It wasn’t just a handful…” she muttered. 

Something inside Ren snapped.

“HE COULD HAVE TAKEN YOU!” Ren shouted as he gripped his daughter’s shoulders desperately. “PAWNED YOU OFF AT THE SLAVE MARKET! OR WORSE, HE COULD HAVE KILLED YOU! DUMPED YOUR BODY SOMEWHERE AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN NONE THE WISER. WOULD THE COIN HAVE BEEN WORTH IT THEN? WELL?”

Hot, angry tears streamed down Esana’s face as she pulled herself out of her father’s grip and ran into the tavern. Ren tried to grab her but she was too quick.

“Esana!” He yelled. “Esana get back here!”

Instead, he heard the sound of a door slamming from upstairs, where the guest rooms were. He looked around the tavern and noticed that it was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers who seemed too deep into their cups to notice the elven family drama going on around them. He also noticed a distinct lack of Venatori. They must have left earlier as well. 

Shit.

With a sigh, Ren felt all of the previous anger bleed out of him, leaving him bone-tired. With great effort, Ren dragged himself to the bar, rubbing at his eyes before anyone could see the moisture in them. 

“Julius,” he called, “Can I have another glass of water, please?”

The barkeep popped out from the kitchen, a bowl of something heavenly smelling in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other.

“I’ll do you one better.” He said, setting the bowl, some sort of stew, in front of Ren. “Here, eat. You look like you’re about to keel over where you stand.”

“Julius, you are a gentleman and a scholar.”

“Yes, yes. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Ren took a few spoonfuls before his appetite left him entirely as the monster currently gnawing at his stomach felt more akin to guilt than hunger. He stirred the soup in lazy circles with his spoon, occasionally making a half-hearted attempt at taking a bite before giving up entirely. 

“I need to go talk to Esana.” He said with a sigh.

“Rook, wait…”

Ren looked up and was surprised to see the old barkeep looking at him with eyes full of understanding… and a bit of sorrow.

“I don’t usually tell people this for obvious reasons, but… my father was also a freeman.” He said. “And an elf, too.”

Ren’s eyes widened. A lot of things about Julius suddenly made sense. The slight build, the bright eyes…

The easiness in which he accepted Ren and Esana… 

He looked at the man in a whole new light then, silently wondering how he never noticed the way Julius’s ears tapered to a point, a tell-tale sign of the man’s heritage.

“I’ll be.” Ren exclaimed. “I’d had no idea I was in the presence of a fellow knife-ear. I’ll make you a flower crown. Maybe even show you some of my favorite places to frolic naked in the moonlight.”

“I am quite capable of going to a whore house on my own, thank you.”

Both men burst into laughter, loud enough in the almost empty tavern to draw the attention of the last remaining guests. The confused stares sobered both men up fairly quickly, and Julius continued whatever point he was getting at.

“Before I was born,” he said, “my father had somehow managed to buy his and my mother’s freedom. Never did quite figure out how he managed to pull it off...”

Julius’s eyes grew distant as he stared at something only he could see. After a moment, he blinked, and turned his attention back to Ren. In all the years he had known the man, Ren had never seen an expression so solemn on his face as he did now.

“When I was Esana’s age, I also never… appreciated the sacrifices my father had made for my family. For me... And Maker, there were so many…”

“And you do now?” Ren asked.

“Aye.” Said Julius. “I do now. Very much so. And I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but Esana will too.”

Ren considered the older man’s words as he took a few more bites of his stew. He pushed himself off of the counter and dusted himself off. 

“Thank you, Julius.” He said. “For everything.”

“Anytime, Rook.“

Ren made his way up the stairs and down the hall to where he and Esana were staying. As quietly as he could, he crept in, closing the door behind him. 

They were fortunate enough to stay in a room with two cots this time, an upgrade to their usual fair. He noticed that the cot on the left was occupied by a relatively Esana sized lump buried underneath the blankets. On the desk , underneath an open window, was a rook. It sat atop a wooden perch as it cleaned its feathers with its long, grey beak. 

Hearing the door close, it looked up and flew over to where Ren sat on the empty cot, silently landing on his knee.

“Hey, Hope.” He uttered.

“…Why is your doublet singed?” Was the spirit’s response.

“Good to see you too.”

“Renan…”

Ren looked down at his doublet, his favorite one too, and, sure enough, he noticed singe marks all long the bottom hem. 

And lo, did the Maker say “Fuck this Elf in particular.” He thought.

“I suppose it does not matter. I am sure it can be fixed.” Hope said kindly. Then, through the bond, he heard: ‘Esana was very upset, but she would not tell me what happened.’

‘She decided to pick fights with grown men and then I lost my temper and yelled at her.’

‘Ah. I see.’

Hope climbed up Ren’s arm to perch on his shoulder.

“I think I am going to go out.” She announced. “Stretch my wings for a bit.”

“Have fun.”

Hope rubbed up against his cheek affectionately, nuzzling him much like she had when he was a boy, newly arrived in the Tevinter Imperium and being sold off like chattel.

‘You can fix this.’ He heard her say through the bond. 

With that, Hope flew out the open window and into the warm summer’s night, leaving father and daughter alone to talk. After a minute or two of sitting silently in the dark, Ren spoke.

“I know you’re awake, Esana.” He said. “Can we talk? Please?”

A loud sniffle from underneath the covers was the only response he got. With a sigh, Ren pulled off his boots and set them neatly by his bedside table.

“It’s ok, Esana. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He said as he took off his now singed doublet. “I’ll talk then, ok?”

Ren took a moment to gather his thoughts. He stared down at his hands, looking at the small knicks and callouses from years of playing the lute. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, and let the loose sleeves reveal old scar tissue across his wrists from where too-heavy shackles had rubbed his skin raw years ago. They certainly weren’t pretty, which was part of the reason why he always covered them, but they weren’t the worst of his scars. He knew his back was a gnarled web of lash marks, fifty in total. They still ached from time to time, too…

He made a vow, long ago, that the Imperium would never hurt him, or his loved ones, ever again. And he intended to keep that promise.

“I love you, Esana.” He said, finally. “And I am very sorry that I yelled at you like I did. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

In the darkness, Ren saw two bright blue eyes (her mother’s eyes, he thought distantly) peek out from underneath the covers, watching him warily. Taking that as progress, he continued.

“The truth is, I was scared. What you did was incredibly dangerous. I truly thought that man was going to hurt you, and that terrified me.”

Esana crawled out from underneath the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over and refusing to look anywhere but her bare feet. Ren noticed that she was already in her nightgown. She must have changed after she stormed upstairs. 

With a small smile, Ren patted the empty space beside him in invitation. Esana quickly crossed the short distance to sit with her father, but still refused to look up at him, even after he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to his side. 

“I just wanted to help.” She said miserably, swiping at her eyes as fresh tears  began to fall. “I thought that if I could earn money like you do, then you would let me join you for once.” 

“Esana…”

“I just wanted to be like you. I’m tired of being treated like a baby.”

Ren tucked an errant lock of red hair behind his daughter’s ear. 

“Esana,” he said, “I don’t need you to be like me. In fact, that’s the last thing in the world I want you to be. And while I appreciate the help, I’m your father. It’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around.” 

“But I want to help!” Esana cried, almost desperately. “I want to be out there, with you!”

Ren chewed his bottom lip as he pondered Esana’s words. He certainly did not want to expose her to the drunks of Minrathous, but he also knew that soon she would be turning thirteen. Too old to stay willingly cloistered away. Maybe he could bring her along every now and then, introduce her little by little to his world in a way where he could monitor her and keep her safe, rather than having her go out behind his back…

Still, he couldn’t help but feel he was missing something. Something important. There was a frantic edge to Esana’s pleading that Ren couldn’t understand. Not for the first time, Ren wished his wife were still alive. Leena would have known what to do. She was good at that sort of thing.

“I’ll tell you what,” Ren began, cupping his daughter’s chin gently, “how about I teach you how to play that spare flute I have? Then, you could play with me. Sometimes.”

Esana stared up at her father with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

“Sometimes!” He reiterated. “Only the jobs that I think are safe, ok?”

“Really?” she asked, excitement and a strange tinge of something akin to relief shining in her eyes.

“Yes.” Ren laughed. “Really.”

Esana launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug which he returned without a thought. 

“I love you, papa.” She said.

“I love you, too, Esana.”

Not long after Ren noticed his daughter’s eyelids grow heavy and her shoulders begin to droop. He chuckled as he watched her try to stifle a yawn.

“Alright little Nuglette, I think that’s enough excitement for one day. To bed with you.” 

“Ok, papa.” Esana murmured sleepily as she crawled back into her own cot. Suddenly, that frantic edge that Ren noticed earlier returned.

“Papa…” she said, “Could I stay in your cot? Until I fall asleep?”

“Sure.” Ren said with a small smile.

Esana quickly scurried from her cot to join her father. She snuggled herself up against him, and he felt her relax as if she had been holding in some sort of tension. 

“Esana,” Ren asked as she tucked herself in the crook of his arm, “Is everything alright?”

Esana hastily nodded, not quite looking her father in the eye. Ren sighed.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

Another nod. 

“Ok. Good night, Esana. Sweet dreams.”

Ren didn’t notice Esana wince at the mention of dreams. He didn’t notice his daughter squeeze her eyes shut, desperately trying not to think of the monsters in her dreams that hounded her, begging her to let them in. 

Instead Ren began to sing softly, voice barely above a whisper as he sang an old Elvish lullaby, one that his own mother sang to him when he was little. It didn’t take long for Esana to drift off into the Fade. No nightmares plagued her this time, safe as she was in her father’s arms and a song promising only pleasant things echoing in her ears. 

For Ren, however, sleep evaded him despite his exhaustion. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t mind and was content to watch the rise and fall of Esana’s chest as his daughter slept soundly, snuggled up against him. Truth be told, he cherished moments such as these because he knew that sooner rather than later, his daughter would grow too old to cuddle with her papa. For now, though, he placed a kiss upon his little girl’s brow and held her as tightly as he could without waking her.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, only that it was near dawn when Hope flew in through the window, the first rays of light gently reflecting off of her feathers, giving them a purplish hue. 

“Morning, Hope.” Whispered Ren as he watched her land on the bedside table. 

“Good morning, Renan.” She whispered back. “I am happy to see you two worked it out.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Ren shifted slightly to face his friend. “You were gone an awfully long time. Did something happen?”

“I ran into Neve Gallius. She would like you to meet her later this evening.” 

“Ah… and what did our favorite Ice Queen want? Did she say?”

“Only that she would like to introduce you to an aquantence of hers. Some sort of… novelist?”

“Of course she does…” Ren murmured tiredly, not really paying attention. 

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the silence of the early morning. Ren was just about to finally drift off to sleep when Hope looked up from where she was preening her feathers and stared out of the window with an unusually concerned expression.

“Renan…” she whispered, so quietly Ren barely heard her. 

“Mmm?”

“There is a storm coming.” Was all she said.

-

Little did Ren know, as he later found himself staring up at the terrifying visages of his Dalish mother's myths, how true those words were about to become. 

[strixhaven]

like. hello.

[cosmicalily]

"santa baby" - a jisung oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: san-ta, ba-by !! (i'm such a lauver and have such bad baby fever rn, that's all the context you get!)

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of sickness

“I can’t believe you’re still sick on Christmas Eve,” Jisung pouted, gently running a hand through your hair. He stroked your warm cheek, eyes sad, and you offered him a weak smile.

“I’m sorry Ji, I know we had so many plans,” you sighed, snuggling into him. “Don’t let me stop you. You should still go ice skating with the boys; I’m happy to stay at home, I promise.”

“I don’t wanna,” he whined, sliding down the headboard and further under the covers. Anyone else would keep their distance from someone who’d been nauseous for the past week, but you being under the weather only made Jisung clingier. He wanted to take care of you and stay by your side, making sure you were okay every single second of the day, even when you assured him you just needed a glass of water and a good nap.

Despite your slightly more fragile state, the past few weeks in preparation for Christmas had been oh so cosy and domestic, filled with shopping for gifts (although the two of you ended up with more for each other than your friends and family), comfort food at home in front of the tv, watching Elf approximately 12 times (it was Jisung’s ride-or-die Christmas movie, there was no talking him out of it). Something about the colder season meant the two of you were even more inseparable than usual, always needing an arm or a leg thrust over the other to share a little body heat. Although, right now, with Jisung’s face nestled into your neck and his arms around your waist, you were scorching.

“Baby, I’m really hot right now,” you groaned, trying to push him away. Being the clingy menace he was, he simply held you closer, and you sighed.

“Ji, if you don’t let go, I’m probably gonna throw up,” you said, opting for a more direct approach. That got his brain working, knocking him out of his loved-up mind fog. He snapped up, sitting up straight and looking at you intently, brows furrowed with concern.

“Actually?” he asked worriedly.

“Maybe,” you replied, feeling a little bad for scaring him. But you were feeling nauseous, and it had only been getting worse the past few days. You hoped that by tomorrow you’d feel a little better.

Even if it wasn’t physically, you hoped that Jisung’s excitement, something you anticipated in response to the surprise you had for him, would perk you up. 

“I’m gonna get you some chamomile,” he declared, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and scrambling out of the bedroom, leaving you feeling a little dazed. You felt warm, probably from the slight fever, but also because of him. 

He was gonna be the best dad.

“I have something for you,” you said suddenly, grabbing the remote and pressing pause on the movie you hadn’t really been paying attention to. The two of you were sprawled on the sofa, Jisung’s head in your lap as you played with his hair. The room was dim and warm, fairy lights sparkling, and it felt magical, yet familiar.

He raised his head curiously. “But it’s not Christmas morning yet,” he replied, looking confused, and you laughed at him. 

“I know. It’s not a proper present; it’s more the promise of one,” you explained vaguely, leaning over the armrest of the sofa and handing him a small box.

Jisung raised an eyebrow, then undid the plaid ribbon, opening the box and retrieving a note. “Unfortunately, these things tend to take a while to arrive, but I promise you’ll have it by August! Love you, sweet boy.” Jisung read aloud, then gave you a strange look, thinking it was some weird prank and expecting you to giggle. However, to his surprise, your eyes were a little glassy, and you reached to hold his hand.

Giving it a gentle squeeze as he unfolded the tissue paper one handed, he found a small stick buried at the bottom. A white plastic one.

With two lines on it.

“Oh my god,” Jisung breathed, holding it closer and then dropping it in shock. “Oh my god, is this real?”

“Why do you think I’ve been feeling so crap the past few days?” you giggled in response, but tears were now rolling down your cheeks. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I thought it would make the perfect surprise.”

“Oh my god,” Jisung repeated, for once lost for words. He suddenly reached forward, cupping your cheeks with his hands and pressing your foreheads together. “I can’t believe it. I’m so happy, baby, you don’t even know. I’ve been wanting this for so long for us.” Then he paused, scrunching up his nose and dropping the test. "Ew. I can't believe I just touched a stick that you peed on."

“Shut up, that's the only way to find out, dumbass. And I know you have, you’re not subtle,” you chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m so glad I get to do this with you, Ji. You’re going to be the best dad.”

He beamed, eyes shiny, then yanked up your tank top. You squealed in shock, but was placated when he pressed a soft kiss to your belly, looking up at you wistfully.

“Are you gonna call the boys and tell them your news?” you asked, running a hand through his hair as he rested his cheek against your stomach.

“Later,” he said, closing his eyes. “Just wanna be with you right now. And our baby.”

[coriphallus]

DA: The Veilguard Spoiler review pt2 - The Grime

this is a hard one to tackle without strawmaning anyone because itll be a direct response to alot of defense ive seen for the games morality system so ill just start by saying, iykyk

never a genre has been better equipped to discuss ethics than the interactive medium of games and yes, bioware games have been doing it since baldurs gate and no, theyve not always been 'centrist' and 'conservative'. im not even gonna entertain that idea. do you remember the cultural landscape DA:O released to? the landscape it was developed in? dont give me that just because zevran doesnt write in his little notes -that you can conveniently read- 'gay good. not me but me bisexual'

Thedas is a flawed world and its a world thats just as desperate to hang on to its status quo as our own. every time you play an elf thats thriving, or a human thats queer, or a mage thats not institutionalised you exist in a world that doesnt want you, it is an act of defiance that you do.

im sure we can all see why these games were so popular with the audience they can only weakly try to pander to today.

derailing time again; so one of my favourite paintings of all time is saturn devouring his son. it makes me feel so uncomfortable that it gave me nightmares as a child, and i still cant look at it without feeling this knot in my throat. i hate it. i hate how it makes me feel, how that man looks at me in terror like its begging me for help while cannibalising another. weird story but i was bewitched by that painting as a little kid.

it is not a well drawn painting, the proportions are all over the place, brush strokes crude and inelegant. it doesnt even have a deeper story nor was it intended for an audience. i will never know what goya thought of when drawing it.

i thought alot about that painting later in my life when i was struggling with mental health problems, i thought about goya alot too as an adult and after learning about his life. i stared at his paintings and remembered when i told my dad that i hated [saturns] big eyes and hed jokingly said "it would be scarier if he didnt have eyes"

i know what the drawing looks like now, nearly everyone with a little access to the internet does. if somebody removed saturn from it, we'd still be left with a brutalised headless carcass of a man in a canvas too big for itself. if we removed that too all we'd be left with would be void.

i dont want to live in a world where all i know of goya is his rococo work, i dont want to stare at the painting of a void knowing what filled it before. i hated every second of germinale but i never wanted it to be anything other than itself, the story it tells could never hold credence otherwise.

DAV has done its best to paint over it, but its still on the old canvas and i cant look away from the negative space its left, i know whats under it and it unsettles me, infuriates me. it hands me a palette with baby blues and pinks and tells me to paint over it to make a prettier painting. didnt i hate the eyes? wasnt it gross before?

i am not going to write why we need some grime in art, but its absence is disheartening. and to those who say hanged people in the streets or blighted villagers is dark and mature ill say no. its a kids idea of maturity, its the aesthetic of it with no substance. it means nothing to me if rook can just drench themselves in gallons of blight as they crawl through it. the horror of blight has never been the black goo and slimy tentacles, or the monster woman with way too many tits. it is watching people you love slowly fade away, it is a woman who was forced to cannibalise the contaminated flesh of her friends because the woman she loved betrayed her, it was the sheer scale and inevitability of it.

one area we go to is overrun by it and the game begs me to feel hopeful that flowers are growing again when it never let me lose hope. people have already prevailed, they have roofs over their heads and a steady supply of food on their tables. their spirit is unwavering.

its bad, everybody says. the sky is grey and soil is blackened, as my rook turns some statues to access a haunted house whos inhabitants are long gone and the only story they could ever tell is gone with them.

if the question is do i want to see famine? plague? misery? abuse? assault? the answer is yes. yes. i want to see it all of the filth. i rather face the fucking monster head on with its big bulging eyes and misshapen limbs than stare at the abyss its absence leaves on the canvas.

and if nothing else, this bastardization is disrespectful to the people who gave the IP its fame.

Why choose to be good?

back in the bsn days ive wondered why, even in a fictional universe where your choices have no real-life repercussions what-so-ever, players had more 'good' playthroughts than 'bad'?

what happens when you start killing NPCs, when youre needlessly mean to them? the game actively closes off its own content. you get less out of the game. just as, completely incidentally, you'd get less out of your life if you just started killing everyone around you. The world would be emptier, youd be alone.

in that quote i stole from good place chidi doesnt ask "why be good?" the wording is painfully deliberate. doing good is always a choice, and often not the easy one. what makes the act matter is that you chose to do it, even when given 6 other options not to. did i stop in the middle of an important quest to help a man retrieve an heirloom from a darkspawn infested hut? did i hear what that heirloom meant to him?

i cant stop thinking about that speech ever since playing this game after knowing its predecessors.

So, why do it then? Why choose to be good, every day, if there is no guaranteed reward we can count on, now or in the afterlife? I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone.

i cant stop looking at this game that spits on its own legacy and think how could they have missed what fundamentally makes us human so bad, what makes us relate and empathise with eachother. what makes us pick the option to interact with an npc who openly hates what hawke is, and allow us to see the traumatised man underneath.

these characters of fiction are written by real people. i have absolutely nothing in common with a guy from canada yet for a brief moment in time i feel a sense of camaraderie as ive felt with goya that i couldnt articulate as a kid.

Nothing too terrible

DAV says it over and over again -as its wont to do with every piece of its flimsy morality- that people can change, people can be redeemed yet it shines as the game with most static characters in its franchise. it simply says things, and since it has nothing to show for it it makes sure to say it repeatedly, in case you missed it.

so when i first played DAO i was in high school, i started with a human noble because fresh out of dark side edgy kotor fame i wanted to be a posh brat. also because, ya kno, we were poor my entire life up until that point and i wanted to have power.

i committed to it, even as the game stripped cousland of everything he had, because i thought a man like him would. i picked the racist options, the sexist options, the options a man in couslands place would. halfway point of the game as i exhausted the initial dialogues something happened; this man who got paid to kill people, who showed no remorse nor care for his victims, begged my cousland to stil his blade.

and i did. i thought maybe he would be as confused as i was, maybe he had a moment of clarity but from thereon bit by bit he was less of an asshole. the characters grew around me, and my character grew around them. i chose to be good because -textually- we were in this together, at the end of all things.

rook is not a character, theyre a mascot. and quite frankly i think they may be a very evangelical mascot because they remind me of evangelical preachings of jesus more than the man from the bible (and i say this as someone whos only exposure to christianity has been through foreign media and the bible ive read that one time). they are the epitome of do no evil and their existence hinges on the frail concept of moral purity. theyre not a person trying to do good, who wants to be good, they are 'good'

-and lemme tell you its a wild choice to have someone like that locked in a prison of 'regret'-

rook can be mean to only one person in the game, and thats someone they dont even have a personal beef with for the most part. but even then they would be shouting at a wall because the game doesnt only undermine them with its narrative, but also every npc in the game suddenly gets possessed by the ghost of wattpad rejects past for a moment to tell them everyone can be redeemed. and i believe it because i played the other games, i believe it because i know zevran and sten and morrigan, isabela and thom and iron bull and dorian. i know it because i can see the vague shapes behind the new coat of paint but i am not rook.

so no, the game fails to get people-can-change points by its own merit, and it cannot gain points from its prequels because it destroyed them. none of those characters i watched grow exist in this universe. zevran cant exist with DAV crows, fenris` story cant exist in an imperium with invisible slaves only glimpsed through empty cages and broken chains left scattered on the ground. i dont know which morrigan this NPC is, is it the woman who grew to learn kindness, who begged to sleep with her friend just to save them despite knowing it would play into the plans of a destiny she so desperately tried to break free from? or is she the clever puppet her mother groomed her to be who wanted to harness the power of a god? i dont know her, i dont know this dorian or this isabela beyond their names ipso facto this is not a sequel.

bellara asks an assassin why he is trying to save the world and his answer is "ive done some things in the past im not too proud of. nothing too terrible, but some of it was bad." and i can hear the games desperation for me to not engage with its material in that 'nothing too terrible'

lucanis never killed anyone innocent, taash never harmed an animal they could shoo of or reason with, emmrich venerates the dead and is friends with every wisp he pulls to use in menial labour, davrin joined the wardens willingly because he wanted to do good...

rook tells harding that her anger is justified when shes not even allowed anger of her own.

nothing too terrible.

aside from creating boring and nonsensical and static characters it creates a dreadful echochamber that we're forced to sustain. No taash is not valid, their gender is but their behaviour is not and for the character to grow and mature it needs to be addressed. lucanis doesnt need to be pampered in shock blankets he needs to see how repressing his problems and jeopardising his health puts people around him in danger etc etc. they are adults and they need to learn more complex ways of healing. and if rooks flaw is that theyre an enabler, then that needs to be acknowledged by the narrative in some way too, and not mindlessly endorsed because they say some buzzwords.

none of these interpersonal relationships feels real because none of these people feel real beyond some draft of themes and tropes. some interactions literally remind me of two bots in facebook comments

i look at this dialogue wheel with familiar symbols and all im reminded of is hawke telling carver he carries every death with him, of him telling his uncle that he wasnt fast enough, of him begging the person he loves to tell him that his mothers death wasnt his fault.

and they dont. they just sit there with him.

[sorcerous-caress]

could u possibly do how companions would treat tav's kid? like in a situation where a tav had a child/younger sibling or smth. fluffy fluff all around

You know how sometimes fate aligns so that your past deeds follow you into the future? This request gave me a flashback to my old writing blog.

Companions reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child

[ bg3, fluff, several characters ]

[ Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Shadowheart, Minthara ]

Astarion

What on earth is that little gremlin following you around? Just make sure that no one feeds it after midnight.

To say he's not a fan is a huge underestimation, he signed up for a camp full of hot available single adults and not a daycare. How are you expecting him to be his usual self when a pg13 warning keeps chasing you around.

Whatever, he will just ignore the goblin-like thing. He can do that, how hard can it be?

Well...actually now that some time has passed, he has to admit that the little menace is really funny at times. Especially that one time he stole Gale's books to build a book throne in the mud, Astarion swears he could still hear Gale's heart shattering into a million pieces, what a fond memory.

What? Pfff, no, he isn't getting attached. He just...well was doing some trick with a coin to make it disappear, and the kid happened to be nearby, Astarion definitely wasn't trying to impress them.

Now the thing about picking locks is that it's better to teach them young. Think of all the small places, nooks, and crannies they could fit into, bringing them some loot and actually be useful.

And since he's already bothering to do it, might as well teach them how to wield a bow. Properly wield a bow, not like how Wyll does it no, it requires elegance only an elf is capable of and Astarion is the most expert here to train them.

Did you see that? They're actually getting better. He genuinely is impressed, so much that he doesn't register the smile of pride adorning his face, the excitement in his voice as he boasts about the kid's accomplishment and how they're clearly superior than the other crotch goblins.

Gale

Ah, children, truly the future of mankind. Humanity's hope and the ones who will carry the torch after us.

He is almost giddy at the idea of having an impressionable youth to teach, to steer and to spoil rotten like he was spoiled.

Will show off magic tricks nonchalantly, he definitely has a hidden agenda in trying to make the kid a wizard. After all who is better than him, an arch wizard, to teach a new curious soul about all the wonders of the weave? No magic is too advanced, everything is possible with imagination.

If anything, kids have the best imagination, better than adults do. Which is the argument he uses when you ask him why your little one can shoot invisible fireballs now.

He would love to read to them, he has all kinds of stories about heros, past legends and fables that will guarantee them a safe and sound mind. A healthy mindest to nurture then into a good kind hearted adult.

Even when his books end up the subject of the kid's abuse kind of a lot- Gale is nothing but forgiving. Cut the kid some slack, if anything, Gale is happy they are safe and sound.

Would make special meals for the kid during dinner time a lot, bunny shaped carrot cuts or soup with a sparkly finish. He can even teach them some basic recipes, cooking is a very important life skill afterall.

Wyll

He is very experienced with kids. Feels a bit concerned for the fact they're at camp all alone and volunteers to stay behind and watch them. And no, unlike the previous two, he doesn't try to indoctrinate them into elf supremacy culture nor tactically manipulate them into being a wizard.

He just lets them be a kid, plays ball with them. Shows them how to play fetch with Scratch. Overall a very cool and laid back older brother.

He definitely takes great inspiration from his own dad and how he raised him, offers the same advice and wisdom his own father shared with him.

Shows the kid that life is so much more than it seems, nothing is truly evil and nothing is truly good. Both can be found in each other. He treats the kid with respect and doesn't pull the older than you card unless necessary.

He wants them to establish their own being, their own character and carve their own path in life.

Definitely does whatever he can to keep Mizora away from the child. That devil cannot be trusted, and even while he knows the kid is smart, he doesn't want to leave it up to fate whether Mizora tricks them into a pact or not.

Halsin

The kid adores him and all of his animal forms. Halsin indulges them a lot and changes into whatever wildshape they deem the coolest that day to play with them.

When he looks at them, he sees a seed for the future. It requires care and nurturing to grow properly, and he is willing to make this world a better place for them.

Shows them how important nature is, how we should take care of the world just like it takes care of us. How we should respect the plants and the animals, how every meal is a gift and should be treasured.

He has a very fatherly vibe to him. It comes naturally, and he doesn't even have to try. Whenever the kid feels overwhelmed or scared, it's Halsin they run up and hide behind.

Also, when they get in trouble too because they know Halsin will take their side.

And he knows the kid is using him sometimes, but he lets it slide. Takes the kid on walks a lot, helps them make friends with the nearby cat that sometimes frequents the camp.

There is a potted plant they're both growing, a small shared project between the two of them. Halsin adores the look of happiness the kid has whenever the plant sprouts a new leaf and grows taller.

They don't have to know that it was Halsin's powers keeping it alive throughout the frequent changing of their camp and consistent travelling.

Karlach

Little soldier is what she calls them.

Picks them up a lot after her engine gets fixed, let's them ride on her shoulder and hang on to her horns sometimes. Even indulges them and pretends she is a robot that they're controlling.

Sorry Astarion, she can't stop hugging you. She's a simple robot, and the overlord kid on her shoulders demanded it.

While Wyll is the cool yet dependable older sibling, Karlach is the even cooler one who's very chaotic and would help the kid in their pranks and cause trouble a lot.

Ah, what the hell kid, sure you can pick up her great flaming axe and swing it around. Actually she will use a nearby table as a shield and you should definitely try throwing it at her.

It's not that she means to be a bad influence, it's just that she is extremely indulgent. That it circles back to being a bad influence without meaning to.

They want to only eat sweets for dinner and all day? Hell yeah little soldier she wants the same. They want to do it for the rest of eternity and never eat vegetables again? Sign her the fuck up because she is ride or die.

Oh yeah, your kid/sibling can swear now, thanks to her, you're welcome.

Jaheira

Is the one feeding them the vegetables, after telling Karlach off and putting her in the timeout corner.

It's not enough that she has a gaggle of children back home, but you had to bring another one with you to the camp? Oh cub, you and your own little cub are going to be the death of her.

If Halsin thinks he can hide them behind his bear form he better think twice, Jaheira isn't below putting the both of them in line if she has to.

She demands respect, and the kid definitely ends up giving it to her, begrudgingly or not. They understand she is the true form of authority in this camp and that they better do what she says and finish their chores.

They definitely see her as a grandma. She is secretly touched if they call her that but acts unaffected. She just doesn't want to let the kid down. She has to be strict because medicine never tastes sweet.

They remind her of her own kids backhome sometimes, she does get homesick a lot more with them around.

Shadowheart

No, she isn't emo. No, she isn't goth either. What is this kid talking about? They better know that worship of lady Shar is very sacred and not a passing phase she will grow out of.

You know how kids are overly curious and always ask these intrusive questions? Shadowheart is a magnet for that.

They just go up to her ,unannounced, and tell her about the recent camp news. She sips on her wine and gives the kid a glass of grape juice while they gossip.

Yes, she is a half elf. No, she is still as capable as an elf.

Wait, what did Astarion say about her? Really? Well, kid, thanks for being a snitch now. If you'd excuse her, she has urgent business to take care of.

She sees them and wonder if this is how her childhood was supposed to be like, if this is what she was missing out on all her life. Sometimes she can't help the burning envy at the back of her throat as she watches them be showered with love and care for simply existing.

But she doesn't let the bitterness get to her, not with how the kid looks at her in awe and admiration. She vows to be at least a decent example and not disappoint them.

Laezel

If left unattended, she will start a boot camp. Come one kid, get down, and give her 40 push-ups now.

What? She is just looking out for them. How else are they supposed to join the battlefield if they have no upper body strength?

Yes, the battlefield, why do you ask? Of course, she wants them in the front lines eventually. War is the perfect environment to raise a child, to make them strong and fast. You were very smart for bringing them here with you, she has to admit.

Bah, she scoofs at Karlach and Astarion's ways. It is a danger hazard at best. The kid needs to start with training equipment and not actual weapons. Her companions' lack of braincells does surprise her sometimes.

Well...she also does mention the fact that for them to graduate, they have to actually murder someone from the camp. You know, like how she murdered half her classmates when she was still in training.

She actually...does a good job at training them safely, she evaluates their weakness and strengths and gives them advice based on it on how to improve. She looks out for their well-being and shows them the most efficient way to end a fight.

But she's only joking? Right? Right???

Uh....did anyone see Gale??

Minthara

To put it in the nicest way possible, they are terrfied of her.

She thinks it's good because any sane person should be afraid of her. Frankly, she'd be concerned for a possibility of brain damage if they weren't.

They avoid her, and she barely pats an eye over it.

Although she was always the first to act whenever they were in danger, completely beheading the enemy with her sword before they could touch a hair on the kid. Still she doesn't care for the fact the child is drenched in blood and just saw someone get murdered.

She thinks they should get over it. The sooner, the better. Life is full of murder and blood, you'd be only dooming them if you don't let them see things for how they really are.

Drow culture for raising their children is very brutal, most of them die young and even the ones who do make it alive, don't live as long as the surface elves do.

Each drow carries deep scars from childhood, both on body and mind. Minthara wasn't the exception.

She tolerates your young out of respect for you. She tolerates what she deems as disobedience and disrespect from them.

You're not sure if they'll ever stop fearing her, but you also know that you can trust her to be there for them. To not hesitate a second in saving their flesh no matter what the cost is.

[lay-z]

💚 Day 18 – Ghost in the streets, Grinch in the sheets

A continuation of Days 2 (Quaint) and 10 (Santa Soap –), which means it’s set in the same universe!

Synopsis: Lots of firsts have happened between you and Simon over the past year. This time, it’s the first Christmas you’re going to spend together, and because it’s your favourite season, you want to make it extra special for your grumpy boyfriend.

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | military!Reader; fluff; humour; cussing; domesticity; established relationship; overstimulation; breeding kink; Simon is an intense lover in general, I guess.

Word count: 2.2k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

Simon does what he does best.

He observes, with a steaming cuppa in his hand, – a personalized cup you’d gifted him for his birthday this year, – leaning against the doorframe with his brows drawn together, forehead creasing as if he’s trying to solve a mystery.

But he’s just observing you, his girlfriend slash love of his life, sitting on the living room carpet next to the unnecessarily large Christmas tree, which you made him put up for you, untangling a long string of fairy lights with nimble fingers.

The bloody tree takes up way too much space; makes too much dirt, too, as he keeps finding its deep green needles everywhere after carrying it inside your shared apartment for you. A bloody waste of space and money.

It smells nice, though, he can give you that.

He takes a slow sip of his tea, smacks his lips before he speaks up. “Explain to me again, how watchin’ somethin’ die and wither away slowly in yer home is considered a nice tradition.”

“Simon–“ The exasperated sigh that is torn from your throat as you tilt your head back is enough to make him crack a pleased smile. If there is something he secretly enjoys more than anything, it’s teasing you long enough to have you make all those cute noises for him.

“Bunny, I truly am tryin’ to help here, but I have low elf-esteem,” he says dryly, lifting his cup up to his lips once more to gently blow on the hot liquid. “I’m worried ‘bout bein’ sleighed ‘ere.”

“Oh, hell, no! Not the Christmas puns, Simon!” You drop your hands into your lap, clutching the fairy lights as you glare at him from across the living room.

Simon cackles in rare delight, enjoying your over-exaggerated reaction immensely.

“One more?”

You huff and shrug, already focused on untangling the Christmas lights. “Will you implode if you don’t get them out?”

He sips on his tea, dark eyes twinkling with mirth, “Aye, I might, and ya don’t want tha’, do ya?”

“No,” you grumble, “I suppose not. I still need my big, thick man for cuffing season.”

His chest rumbles at your playful praise. As if you could ever get rid of him again. He takes a few deliberate steps into the room. “What carol do they sing in a Mental Hospital?”

You sigh deeply, rolling your eyes before gazing up at him with a frown. He knows you love his dad jokes, though. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you do, Riley.”

Simon snorts. “Do you hear what I hear.”

The way you blink up at him dumbly, face dropping in feigned disappointment, has his stomach fluttering. “Not good?” You shake your head slowly. “Terrible, actually.”

He hums and the corners of his mouth twitch as he lifts his cuppa up to his lips again. “Another?”

“Simon.”

Over the next few days of leave leading up to the dreaded holiday, the flat slowly but surely turns into some sort of winter wonderland under your care.

And while Simon keeps huffing and muttering in mock disdain like the Grinch with each colourful ornament you put on the Christmas tree and with each tray of gingerbread cookies you bake, he’s absolutely smitten by it and the way you’re actively trying to make him participate in the traditions you share with him from your upbringing.

He never really participated in any holiday, let alone Christmas traditions with his own family as a child. There was no money left for a nice tree or presents or groceries for a nice dinner. Sure, his wonderful mother had tried her best, always, for him and his brother’s sake, but with his awful father in the picture, nothing good had ever lasted long. Simon never had a chance to be part of traditions and he simply convinced himself that he doesn’t care for those anyway.

He starts caring about it all for you, though, because Christmas seems important to you. And whatever is important to you ultimately turns out to be important to him, too. Yes, he’s that devoted when it comes to you.

Bloody hell, he even stopped smoking, because you’d stopped, too. Perhaps not completely, but he’s turned it down – a lot.

Simon finds you in the master bedroom, a place he’s come to learn to appreciate since you two moved in together a few months ago. He can hear you singing “Last Christmas” to yourself softly as he sneaks up on you while you’re sitting on the floor, – always on the floor for whatever reason, – while the only thing visible is the crown of your head peeking over the side of the large box spring bed. He can clearly hear the cutting of scissors followed by the crinkling of paper, which leads him to assume that you’re wrapping presents again.

Before you and him had become official, his bedroom barely looked like someone was living in it. He had to sleep with a light on and spend most nights tossing and turning until his body was exhausted enough to fall asleep while his mind kept racing.

Nowadays, the bedroom looks alive, personal and homely. His sleeping schedule has improved, you practically demand to keep his balls empty and his belly full at all times if possible and his nightmares are less frequent – less violent, too. He’s almost too scared to even think it, afraid some higher beings could view it as an opportunity to fuck him up all over again, but Simon is happier than he’s ever been.

“Wot’s tha’? Presents? F’whom?”

The way you jolt and scramble on the carpet like a frantic, tiny rodent as soon as he speaks up with his gravelly baritone voice, has him crack a boyish smile, and he watches as you try to hide whatever it is you’re trying to wrap in colourful paper by throwing your whole body on top of it like a dragon hoarding its treasure.

Goofy woman. His goofy woman, though.

“Don’t look! Don’t look, Simon!” You whine as you blindly reach for a large shopping bag to cover the stuff that’s still unwrapped haphazardly while Simon snorts in amusement, eyebrows raised as he keeps watching you struggle.

He doesn’t care for presents; would rather not have you get him anything, actually, because he already feels like you’re doing way too much for him, being too good. Simon is absolutely satisfied with having you wake up in his arms every lazy Sunday or even when you’re on ops together, when he sneaks into your cot for a secret cuddle session while Soap or Gaz are on guard duty. Having you in his life like this is everything he could’ve ever wished for.

He did buy you a bunch of presents, though. They’re still hidden in his office on base; an array of stuff you’ve mentioned liking or wanting to buy over the course of the year. Bloody hell, he almost bought you a German Shepherd puppy, like your first dog, the one you’d told him about some night a long while ago on guard duty, but Price managed to talk him out of it. Someday, though.

“I’m not even lookin’,” he chuckles, rounding the bed to approach you, “c’mere a moment.”

And before you can protest, Simon wraps both arms around your midriff and yanks your body off the ground with a playful growl while you squeal and flail a little, knowing fully well what he’s about to do.

“N-No–!” You shriek and laugh when Simon throws you on the bed effortlessly and watches you bounce on the mattress before he’s on the bed in a split-second, wrestling you onto your back while you stop putting up a fight, knowing fully well how easily he can manhandle you anyway.

“Gotta put more bite into it, bunny,” he taunts with mirth gleaming in his obsidian eyes while he pins your wrists above your head with one mammoth hand, “You’re an easy target.” He clicks his tongue mockingly, shaking his head.

Your chest is rising and falling with deep breaths as you gaze up at him. “Only for you, though.”

“Aye,” he agrees, leaning down while his free hand slips beneath your sweater to tickle your stomach, “only f’me, bunny.”

Simon keeps his focus on the steady, harsh thud, thud, thud, thud of the headboard knocking against the bedroom wall instead of the keening, breathy moans you’re making underneath him. He must concentrate on anything but you. Otherwise, he would’ve shot his prodigious load into the condom right after rolling the bloody thing down to the base of his cock and slowly sinking into your welcoming, warm cunt.

Meanwhile, you’re meekly pawing at his sweat-slicked chest, flexing shoulders and bunching biceps, needing to feel more of him while he’s already covering your body with his massive frame; fucking you in a steady, sensual rhythm while he’s got you folded up in a mating press.

Your legs are shaking, your mind already scrambled and gooey, as Simon keeps making you cum on his cock, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of your body, unable to even writhe beneath him from overstimulation as he keeps you pinned to the mattress. You can feel how your syrupy slick is gushing and dripping down your crack and onto the bed sheets while his cock keeps stretching and rutting into your fluttering walls.

“C’mon, bunny, one more f’me, yeah? Be my good girl, gimme one more.” His voice is so rough yet honeyed and soothing in your ear; it makes your skin pebble with goose flesh, your nipples peak almost painfully as his scarred chest brushes over them with each deep grind of his powerful hips, your sopping, gummy walls rippling around his fat cock when another climax starts building up low and intense in your belly.

“Come with me,” you whine with hiccupping breath as your nails dig into his biceps and the muscles in your legs start burning with the ongoing stretch, “Fuck, pleeease–!”

Simon snarls at your desperate plea and swallows your whorish sounds by crushing his lips on yours in a passionate, sloppy kiss as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, determined to feel you cum around his cock one more time before his own release crashes over him.

The steady thud, thud, thud turns into a louder, more rapid thudthudhuthudthudthud as he grunts and moans roughly against your lips; breaths mingling and saliva mixing as he fucks you into the mattress until it feels like he’s in your guts, choking your throat as you’re chanting his name, head tipped back against the pillows, baring your throat to him, and as the feral dog he is, he bites down, sucks your sweaty skin into his mouth with a guttural groan until he feels your pussy gripping his throbbing cock like a vice, rippling and convulsing with your orgasm.

That’s when Simon lets go and thrusts his prick so far into your perfect cunt that, in the back of his rotten mind, he’s sure it would’ve been a hole in one if it wasn’t for the bloody latex he’s wearing when he finally pumps his cum into the rubber with several long throbs.

His massive body is trembling with the intensity of his release as he licks and laps along the length of your throat, soothing his bite mark and his own need to burrow himself inside your body as the urge to be as close to you as physically possible is slowly overtaking his senses again.

“Love you, bunny,” he murmurs against your skin, still grinding his softening cock into your pliant pussy while you go limp in his embrace, “I love you.”

Your eyes have fluttered closed in bliss as you take it all and relish his ministrations. Always so soft and needy afterwards; it makes your heart swell and burst with love and devotion. You cup his face and pull him up to your face; you nuzzle your nose against his and give his lips a chaste kiss before tucking his face into the crook of your neck. His chest rumbles and vibrates against yours as he releases your legs from his grip and lets you stretch them out with a slight wince.

Despite his size, he slumps down on you like a weighted blanket. “How much does Santa pay for parking?” he murmurs into your ear, his voice so gruff, the words are barely audible.

“You can’t be serious right now, Si.” Your eyes crack open and you turn your face to glance at him, but his eyes are closed, his lips pursed as if he’s holding back a smirk. You huff through your nose; he’s never looked so handsome.

“Nothing, it's on the house.”

[cowboybeepboop]

The only one

“Kili, you can’t tell anyone about this.” “So it’s our dirty little secret then?”

Paring: Kili Durin x afab reader

Genre: romantic smut

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You’re Bilbo's adopted human daughter and he takes you along on the journey. Kili has his heart set on you and after getting involved in the fight he gets angry with you for putting yourself in a dangerous situation.

Warnings: public sex, arguing, jealous Kili, hickeys, p in v sex, hickeys??? Idk what else I always forget

a/n: I did not proofread and its lowkey a summary of the first movie? This is my first smut regarding anyone in the tolkien universe but I did write some sad fluff at some point lmao. Anyways, please like and send any requests if you want <3 tags go absolutely wild

You’ve been an adopted hobbit for the last 18 years of your life, Bilbo was always comforted in the known so when he brought you along with him and the dwarfs on their journey you were beyond surprised. Your presence was unexpected for everyone, except Gandalf of course, and most of the company was against your involvement. The dwarves saw you as frail and weak, the only one on your side was your dad, but of course he was.

Kili has kept an eye out for you since you joined the company, he makes sure you're safe and also just enjoys looking at you.

__________

When Elrond and his fellow elves come back the dwarves pull you and your father behind them and create a circle around you. You stay behind your Bilbo as the elves talk with Gandalf.

Upon your entrance to their dining room you look around with wonder, you sit down between Kili and your dad. “They're so beautiful,” you whisper to Bilbo, he nods with a gentle but awkward smile. Kili’s ears twitch as he looks around, his eyes narrow on an elf who has his eyes on you, he moves closer to you wrapping his arm around you.

“You think so?” Kili questions, his jaw clenching slightly, “I think us dwarves are better looking, stronger too.” he says pridefully, you chuckle in response.

“Is it a competition now?” you cock your head, “You’re very good looking too, Kili.” he smiles wide.

“Is that so? I am the best looking of all of the company, aside from Thorin of course.” you laugh, putting your hand on his arm.

“A bit full of yourself huh?” he shoves your shoulder gently in response. Kilis arms finds its way around your waist as he continues to glare at the elf who dared to look at you, who did he even think he was.

Gandalf, Bilbo, and Thorin wander off with Lord Elrond, leaving you with the dwarfs. You watch quietly, laughing with them and listening to their conversations before you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. Kili quietly sits next to you letting your head fall to his shoulder he smiles, covering you up with a blanket.

__________

After the company left the palace Thorin led everyone to the Misty Mountains, Kili keeps you in front of him. He insists that it’s better that way so if you fall he can catch you. As the rain picks up your feet slip under you, Kili and Fili grasp your arms quickly, pulling you back onto the ledge.

“Thank you,” you say softly as your eyes look over the ledge. Kili keeps a hold of your arm tightly as you all try to avoid the stone giant's blasts. The ground splits under your feet as the mountain takes shape as a giant, you grab onto the stone behind you before everyone begins to slide forward.

The stone giant slams into the mountain, throwing everyone off of it and onto the ground. Thorin yells for his nephews as the rest of the company runs over, Kili helps you up dusting your clothes off and checking to make sure you weren’t hurt anywhere.

After all the commotion everyone settles into the cave, Bilbo pulls you off to the side and quietly talks to you, he tells you about his plan to leave once everyone is asleep. “Why dad? What's wrong?” you whisper to him.

“Thorin is right, we never should've left home, I’ve put you in danger and I can’t let anything else happen to you.” he sighs as he runs his hand through your hair, “It’s okay, we’ll be fine.” he smiles reassuringly.

You both gather all of your stuff and sneak out, he leads you by the hand. He pulls you behind him as he talks with Bofur, you stay quiet looking around the cave. You didn’t really want to leave the company, I mean they were becoming your friends, you enjoyed the company.

“Y/N?” Kili mumbles as he looks up at you, he yawns. “Where are you going?” You crouch down putting your hand on his shoulder.

“Go back to sleep Kili, you need your rest,” you smile sweetly.

The floor splits and you slip down with everyone, Bilbo gets away but you are guided off with the dwarves. Your eyes fill with terror as you look around, you take a hold of Kilis hand squeezing tight as the goblins push you all around. You cower behind him, holding onto his shirt tightly.

Once you get out the dwarves all argue over where your dad went, your head drops as you think that your dad couldn't possibly have left you all alone. He reappears and you rush over to hug him, his hands drop to your waist as he smiles.

“Y/N!” Kili and Bilbo yell at you as you try to defend the dwarves with your small blade; it goes into the center of the wargs head, and Kili grabs you and pulls you up to the tree with him. His hand wrapping around your waist as he holds you close.

“Don’t move,” Kili’s voice is angry as he demands you to stay put. His hands dig into your slides as you look below your feet. Kili’s hands slip away as they start to throw the pinecones, the tree begins to fall, you grasp onto the trunk as tight as you can. His hands wrap around the tree, his eyes focused on you.

As Thorin and your father begin to fight the orcs, your eyes squeeze shut tightly, you try to focus on anything but the attack of Thorin. Kili pulls you up and onto the ground, insisting you stay put as they go to fight. You look forward, clutching the blade you retrieved from the corpse tight. As all of the commotion ensues you feel yourself being picked up by an eagle.

Once you all are in a safe place you watch as Gandalf helps heal Thorin. You stand next to your dad, holding onto his arm, as Thorin goes in for a hug you let go of him and move back. Your eyes wander to Kili who turns his head in order to avoid eye contact with you.

As the company moves forward you come across an area close to a river, Gandalf suggests that you all take a break and bathe. You and Kili were the last to go, you were paired up at the recommendation of Fili.

Kili guides you to the river, holding his weapon close to his chest, he’s been giving you the silent treatment after you got in between a fight. “You can bathe here, I’ll keep watch.” his voice stern.

“Kili..” your voice trails off as you look at his back, trying to pull his attention to you.

“Y/N, just take your bath. It’s getting dark.” Kili’s tone is extremely cold. You pout your lips as you begin pulling your clothing off slowly, once you finish you slip into the cold water.

“You can turn back now,” you say softly before you dip all the way under the water, holding your breath and squeezing your eyes shut. After a while you break the surface of the water sliding your hands over your face pulling the water back with your hair. Kili had turned around keeping his eyes on everything but you.

“Kili,” you wave him over, “come here, please.” you bite your lip as he gives you a bored expression.

“What is it?” he walks close to the bank of the river, his eyes scanning your face.

“Shouldn’t you join me? You're supposed to bathe as well,” he sighs, turning his back to you again.

“Fine, turn away.” he sets down his sword and strips quickly. You face the other way as he slips into the water with you.

“Kili, what is your problem?” you huff, spinning around with your arms crossed over your breasts.

“What do you mean?” his eyes are half closed as he looks at you with a slightly annoyed expression.

You move closer to him, “I mean, you’re acting so rude for no reason. You won’t look at me, you barely talk to me, you’re being so dumb” you glare at him, “So what is your problem?” he rolls his eyes at you.

“I don’t know maybe the fact that you threw yourself into harm's way? You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he yells at you while running his hand through his hair.

“Calm down Kili,” you move close to him, putting your hand on his arm. “I didn’t expect you to get all worked up like this, I know I should have been more careful but I just wanted to help.” your eyebrows furrow as you look down.

His warm hands grasp your upper arms “You really worried me Y/N,” he presses his forehead against yours.

“You worried about me?” a sly smile paints itself on your lips, “does that mean you like me Kili?” your voice is soft and teasing. His ears turn a deep shade of crimson as he turns his head up.

“Y/N cut that out,” he puts his hand on the side of your neck, his eyes flick to your lips.

“Cut what out?” you wrap your arms around his neck pulling yourself close to him.

“You know what,” he clenches his jaw, your hands running down his back as you wrap your legs around his hips.

Kili pulls your face to his, hovering his lips over yours “Quit teasing me,” he whispers. Your hand snakes up to the back of his head, cradling it as you push your lips against his. His hands move to your waist, his fingers dig into your soft flesh as he hugs you tighter against him.

“Mahal,” he pulls away, pressing soft kisses down your face and onto your neck. You lean back letting his lips trail over your body, your nails scratch his scalp softly as you arch into him.

“Amrâlimê,” he whispers against your collarbone, “you’re driving me insane,” Kili groans. He grasps your face pulling you in for an intimate kiss, he’s getting more intense with his affections, his hands squeezing your hips roughly.

Your hand trails down his chest tracing every muscle on his stomach, he begins grinding against you while holding your hips against him. Pulling away from the kiss you gasp for air, leaning your head against his shoulder, you wrap your hands in his hair pulling it off to the side. Kissing his neck roughly you begin to leave soft marks on his flesh as he massages your ass.

“Y/N..” he mumbles into your ear, you moan softly as he picks you up, moving into shallow water. “Can we..?” his ears flush as he looks away, “I mean, would you mind?” you chuckle softly.

“Mhm,” you move your hips against his thigh, feeling him twitch underneath you. “But we’ll have to be quick..” you kiss his shoulder as his hands pull your hips up, he lines himself up with your hole, pushing the tip in.

“Let me know if it hurts,” he says gently, his hand finding its way to your neck grabbing ahold of it pulling your head back as you moan softly. He bucks his hips up into you, leaning forward you bury your face into his nape hugging him tight as you moan into his skin.

“My precious girl,” he groans as he slowly begins moving your hips up and down, his fingers digging into your soft skin, leaving red marks. You moan into his ear as you begin riding him, your arms wrap tight around his neck, eyebrows furrowing as you squeeze around his dick.

Kili cradles your head against him, holding you as close as he can, thrusting up into you pushing as deep as he can. Your head falls onto his shoulder, he moves a hand down to your sensitive clit, rubbing circles into it.

“I’m so close,” you moan, Kili nods in response.

“Me too,” he groans, his hands exploring every part of your body as he pulls you into a passionate kiss.

“Hey, Y/N, Kili, hurry it up.” Fili yells to you, causing the both of you to jolt up. Kili pushes himself into you as deep as he can. You bite your lip as you cum around him, your hole pulsing.

Your back arches, silent gasps leaving your open mouth as you ride out your high. Your whole body seems to tense up causing Kili to groan while he cums deep inside you. He pulls you off of him giving you a sweet kiss.

“Now we really need to clean up, and fast.” He says lowly, his hands creep up from behind you gasping your sides as he pulls you into deeper water to rinse off. You sigh contently as he holds your body close to his.

After quickly cleaning yourselves up; you both get out, drying off before putting your clothes back on.

“Kili, you can’t tell anyone about this.” you bite your lip as you turn to him, his eyebrows furrow. “Bilbo might actually get so mad he tries to kill you,” you giggle softly as his face relaxes.

“So it’s our dirty little secret then?” coming close to you he wraps his arms around your neck giving you a deep kiss. “But we will get to tell everyone later, right?” he pulls back, eyes scanning yours.

“Yes, Kili,” you kiss the tip of his nose, hands resting on his shoulders, “but let's wait it out for a bit, okay?” he smiles in response.

[puckinghischier]

popping in with a nico thought bc im watching elf. girl dad nico would absolutely make everyone wear the costumes like they do at the end when they visit papa elf with the baby 😭 (he makes jack dress as papa elf)

- 🍒

i can just hear him hissing out “put the fucking hat on, don’t ruin christmas” at jack because of course jack doesn’t wanna wear the hat, but baby hischier’s christmas is at stake here (according to her overdramatic dad) 😭

and if she starts crying? it’s jack’s fault. if she’s not smiling in the picture? jack’s fault. if the picture doesn’t turn out right on the first try? jack’s fault

and it’s all because nico’s jealous his daughter loves her uncle jack so much, always trying to find her way towards him when he’s in the room.

“darling, come to dada! dada is buddy! dada has candy!” nico would shout after his daughter, holding out a candy cane as she crawls over towards jack, pulling herself up using his knee, reaching for the very hat nico insisted on his best friend wearing, taking it straight to her mouth after he hands it to her and chewing on it like it’s the tastiest thing she’s ever put in her mouth.

“sorry nico, looks like the hat isn’t gonna make it in the pictures this year. the head elf has spoken,” jack cheekily smiles at nico while picking up the little girl.

“you did that on purpose you scrooge!”

[niennawept]

I want to combine my two favorite unhinged fan theory factories into one:

Gil-galad is Adar's son

Okay, now that I have your attention, let's go on a journey that starts with two things:

Thing the first: I really love people's unhinged theories that Adar is a canon character. I don't think he is; I think he's just some guy that Rings of Power made up but it amuses me to no end when people come up with convoluted theories to make him a guy from canon.

Thing the second: The Silmarillion fandom has a long-standing in-joke about who Gil-galad's father really is. Christopher Tolkien told us that it was Fingon in the Silmarillion and later regretted it, because there was so much confusion in his father's notes on the subject and so many different candidates. Cue all kinds of cracky theories of who Gil galad's gil-gal-dad is. I would like to submit mine.

How does this theory work?

Well it's quite simple actually. Adar and some elven thrall lady hit it off in Angband and have a kid together kinda by accident through weird Angband-based magic. That is a problem because now she's got this like elf-looking baby that has black blood and also Angband is no place for an elf-looking baby. This could get them both into extremely capital 'b' - Bad - trouble.

So, Adar takes that baby and he sneaks into an elven camp and he does that old movie trope where he leaves the baby on the doorstep and then makes a noise so that that people inside the house will hear it. Only this time, it's a war tent and the person inside is Fingon.

Fingon picks up this adorable baby and the baby kind of looks like him and he's like well - I could adopt this baby right? So he goes back to a fort with this baby and Fingolfin takes one look at his son and takes one look at that baby and says to himself "my very gay son did probably did not produce this baby. However, it is probably the only grandchild I will get from him and he is my heir." So welcome home, son and grandson.

Is there any evidence?

Exhibit A: The GIF set that started it all. Look at the similarities! Connect the dots! And thank you, @fukutomichi, for starting off this crazy unhinged theory.

Exhibit B: During Season 2, Episode 1 "Elven Kings Under the Sky", there is a moment where the camera lingers on Adar while Gil-galad is singing his song. Now they actually probably did that because they wanted to remind the audience that Adar was formerly an elf, but this is an unhinged theory, so we're going to ignore the obvious reason they did that and assume that they're trying to connect them for some reason. Yes, that's right. They're trying to tell us that Gil-galad is Adar's son.

Exhibit C: Their their armor matches. The gorget that Gil-galad is wearing in Season 1, Episode 5 "Partings" is a perfect match to the river pattern that Adar is wearing on his armor. Coincidence? Normally, I'd say yes, but in this unhinged theory, I think not.

Exhibit D: In one version of the story, Gil-galad is his mother-name. Is that because his father-name is not elven? Is it because it's potentially uruk in origin?! And don't come at me with that Ereinion nonsense."Scion of kings?"* Sounds like someone's trying to underline a point there, eh? Almost like they're worried people won't think he's kingly enough.

Exhibit E: Gil-galad, despite ample time and opportunity, never marries or produces an heir. Why? Because he knows. He knows that if he does, some one will be close enough to learn his deep, dark secret: he has black blood and his child might too.

Are there holes in this theory? Absolutely; all the evidence is circumstantial at best. Do I care? Nope. This is for the pure, unhinged fun of it. Anyhow, if you need me I'll be headcanoning this for the rest of the run of Rings of Power until they show me Gil-galad's blood, mmmkay?

Thank you to @hellofeanor, @fishing4stars, @baddybaddyadardaddy for spitballing with me.

[ladykailitha]

A Love For Christmas Part 8

And here we are! The last chapter! Thank you to everyone who liked and comment on this wonderful story. I had a blast trying to make it as a Hallmark Christmas-y as possible!

Steve gets what he always wanted for Christmas, people who love him!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

~

It had been six weeks since I sent my little elf off into the big wide world and I was anxious to see how they were doing.

They had been sending progress reports on their person they chosen to help bring to the joy of Christmas. They had originally chosen a battered and worn down secretary, but when she unexpectedly passed away, they were forced to change tack and instead began to focus on the son of the business owner.

The young man had had a rash of bad Christmases and didn’t believe in the holiday anymore. The elf had been working tirelessly to help the poor man out and they had done a stellar job.

I walked up to their stall at the Christmas market and asked for a cup of hot chocolate.

“Santa!” they cried cheerfully and then covered their mouth with a blush.

“It’s alright,” I told them. “There are enough people around that any old man with a white beard might be mistaken for the jolly, old soul.” I winked.

They grinned back.

“He has really turned around and loves Christmas now,” they said proudly. “I did it!”

“You most certainly did.” I pull out a small box and hand it to them. “This is for that young man. So if you could find away to get it to him, I’d appreciate it.”

Their eyes went wide and their smile was incandescent. “You trust me to deliver a present for you?”

I nod.

They clutch to their chest and then salute.

I laugh. It’s good to see them so happy.

~

“Come on, Stevie!” Eddie implored. “You can’t leave Hawkins without seeing the Christmas Market! It’s what the town is known for.”

Steve shook his head. “The last time I went to one of those things it was held together by duck tape and Elmer’s glue. It had three shops and shopping mall Santa who was more drunk than he was jolly, and my best friend left me stranded there to go make out with his girlfriend when he saw what a disaster it was.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie huffed, eyes wide. “You are Christmas cursed!”

Steve waved his arm in front of him. “See? And that wasn’t even the worst of it.”

“What could be worse then that?” Eddie asked cocking his head to the side.

“My dad couldn’t pick me out for three hours,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “So I was wandering around looking for something to do and somehow got roped into being Santa for two of those hours while their paid Santa slept off his booze.” He threw his arms in the air. “I didn’t even get paid. I was told I was ‘volunteering’ and that my payment was the joy on the little tykes’ faces.”

Eddie licked his lips slowly. “Babe, now you have to come to ours. It is so not like that. At all.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie said with a fond, dimpled smile. “I promise.”

~

Eddie drove Steve’s car because he wanted Steve’ to be blindfolded but didn’t want to take his van. It was having issues and Eddie had to wait until after they tallied up all the money from their close to Christmas sales before he could get it fixed.

Finally they came to a stop and Eddie hurried around to the passenger side door and opened it for Steve. He carefully guided him out of the car and toward the entrance, making sure the car was locked behind them.

Then Eddie removed the blindfold.

There was a huge sign welcoming them the Christmas Market in red, green, and white. The entrance was framed by two massive Nutcrackers. Beyond the entrance were shops and booths galore. People dressed as elves and old-timey carolers wandered around, cheerfully singing Christmas songs.

It was what Steve always imagined what the North Pole must have looked like.

“Eddie...” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

Eddie grinned back at him. “Just wait until you see what’s inside.”

So they walked in and immediately Steve was struck by the sounds, sights, and smells of Christmas. It was bright and cheerful, but with a homey atmosphere that Steve had never experienced before in his life.

Suddenly he was tugging on Eddie’s wrist and dragging him over to the carolers dressed up as though they walked out of the pages of Dickens novel.

Eddie laughed.

They had bought cookies from the German shop and chocolates from the Swiss shop.

Then Robin came bounding up to them. “You made it!”

Steve wrapped his arms around her and swung her around. “This is amazing!”

“Is it just?” she cried happily. “Come on, you have to come with me to the beverage booth. There is a pretty girl there and I need you to make sure she’s not some angel or something, she so gorgeous!”

Eddie and Steve laughed, but followed her to the beverage booth. Sure enough there were a pretty red-headed girl with bright green eyes and sweet smile.

“She’s so your type!” Steve said bumping her shoulder with his.

“Shut up!”

Steve walked up to the booth. “Two hot chocolates please.”

Her name tag read: Chrissy. Perfect.

Once Chrissy handed over the two cups in beautifully decorated red styrofoam cups, Steve smiled brightly at her. “And your number for my friend?” He jerked his head to where Eddie and Robin were standing.

“I guess that depends which one it’s for?” Chrissy said with a wink.

Steve grinned. “The pretty blonde.”

Chrissy looked back over at them and then nodded with satisfactory smile. She pulled out a pen and wrote her number on a napkin, handing it to Steve.

“I’d say to tell her I get off at seven,” Chrissy said with a smile, “but I think she knows that.”

Steve laughed and walked back over.

~

“They’re so perfect together,” Robin said with a sigh. “Just look at them. So pretty and sporty. Just think of the babies they’d have.”

Eddie frowned. He hadn’t liked the way she kept looking over here at them when she was supposedly supposed to be working.

Then Steve came up to them with a big grin. He handed the hot chocolate to Eddie. “A hot chocolate for the handsome gentleman.” Then he handed the napkin to Robin. “And the pretty girl’s number for Robin. She gets off at seven and likes to watch the carolers.”

Eddie and Robin shared a shocked glance.

“You asked her out for me?” Robin asked in amazement.

“Sure,” Steve said brightly. “Everyone deserves a little Hallmark cheesiness for Christmas.” Then he winked at Eddie, who turned as bright red as the cup in his hand.

~

Far too soon the place was closing up, Robin and Chrissy had long since gone home together and it was just Eddie and Steve under the glistening stars.

“Thanks for making Christmas special this year,” Steve murmured as they got into the car.

“It’s not over with yet,” Eddie said, slipping into the passenger seat. “There’s still Christmas chaos with everyone. There’s going to be lots of food courtesy of Claudia with no orange to be found,” he started ticking off on his fingers, “Joyce and Hopper are bringing the drinks, everyone is bringing presents. You don’t have to buy something for anyone, your presence will be the gift. But I, uh. I got you something.”

Steve lit up and dared to glance over at him. “I got you something too. I really hope you like it.”

Eddie’s answering grin was enough to keep Steve warm all the way back to Indy.

~

He called his parents to tell them he was moving out of Indy which was met with the same disdain he had gotten from them his whole life.

“You’ll regret that,” Mrs. Harrington sniffed. “He might be pretty now, but once you run out of money, he’ll do the same.”

“Think about what you’re doing, Steven,” Mr. Harrington grumbled. “You know you’re not smart, you’re only importance is as my son and if you walk away from that no one will even look at you twice.”

“Seriously, Steven,” Mrs. Harrington continued, “there is no amount sex that will make being with someone like that palpable. There were several young ladies at the party who would have been willing to put up with your flaws for the amount of money you make. They were just frightened off by that riffraff you brought with you.”

“There are plenty of opportunities in the company,” Mr. Harrington huffed. “You just need to put your back into it.”

Steve burst out laughing. “We both know that the junior partner was going to Tommy or Billy. It was never going to be me. I hate what we do. I always have. But I’m tired of wasting my life for a job I never wanted. I have a lot of money saved up, I’m not going for some guy. I’m going because that person looked at my unhappy life and showed me it didn’t have to be that way.”

“If you walk away from this,” Mr. Harrington growled, “you’ll never see another cent from us.”

“We’ll never see or speak to you either,” Mrs. Harrington twittered. “Is that really what you want?”

Steve let out a happy little sigh. “Oh god, yes.” Then he hung up and blocked both of their numbers.

He felt free for the first time in his life.

~

Steve pulled into driveway of the Munsons’ house. It was small and homey and gave off a warmth that all the other houses he had been to did. Nothing like his bland apartment or the Macy’s catelogue worthy house he grew up in.

He grabbed the red velvet bag he brought just for tonight and made his way to the door. He knocked and instantly it opened up to Eddie in a Santa hat.

“Stevie!” Eddie cried, big grin on his face. “You made it.” Then he spotted the bag and his eyes went wide. “And with gifts, too. You are a very welcome sight!” He stepped back to let Steve in.

Steve slipped past him, so close that their chests brushed against each other and Steve felt a spike of warm lance through his chest and settle down into his belly.

He sat down next to the tree and suddenly Joyce was at his side with a steaming mug of Jim’s apple cider.

“It’s a good thing Jim doesn’t like orange in this otherwise we would have had troubles,” she said handing him the mug.

Steve blushed. “Oh I checked before I poured myself some. I’m aware that most recipes call for it and was very happy to find out it didn’t. Didn’t need it either.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Steve,” Joyce said with a smile.

“Me too.”

Then it was time for presents and Steve got to play Santa. Not everyone got a present from everyone else, but everyone had a stack of presents so no one felt left out.

But every time someone opened a present from Steve they would gasp and say that was just what they always wanted.

Finally when Eddie opened up a black wooden dice box complete with sparkling red dice, did anyone ask the question.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful, but how did you know?”

Steve shrugged. “Robin helped me pick out gifts from everyone.”

Dustin tilted his head to the side. “But how would she know? She’s only been here since November.”

Steve mirrored his expression and blinked. “Huh. It just always felt like she’d always been here, you know?”

Everyone agreed that it felt that way to them too, and everyone moved on. Then it was time for Steve to open his.

He got warm woolly socks from Robin, hand-stitched pillows from Dustin and Claudia. Dustin picked out the colors and material and Claudia sewed them. A box of Eggo’s from Ellie. A nice hat and scarf from Eddie and a few things from everyone else.

“Hey Steve,” Robin said, “I think one of your presents dropped.” She indicated under his chair with her chin.

Steve looked down between his legs and sure enough, there was a small present took behind one of his legs. “Oh thanks!”

He picked it up and unwrapped it. It was a necklace box, the kind his dad would buy his mom when he cheated on her. On top was a note and when he read it, tears streamed down his face as he pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle his cries.

Eddie came over and sat down in the chair next to his. “Hey, you okay?”

Steve handed him the note to read as he opened up the box with that little sproing and snap that jewelry boxes have.

“Dear Stevie,

I’m sorry I’m fifteen years late, but it took me a while to find the perfect match. Take a chance and I think you’ll find I’m right.

xxSanta”

“What’s this about?” Eddie asked lifting the note.

“When I was eleven I wrote to Santa begging him to send me someone who would love me unconditionally and would never leave me. Not like my parents who more concerned with appearances then the health of their own son.” Steve shook his head. “When nothing came under the tree that Christmas, I stopped believing in him.”

He lifted the necklace. It was red guitar pick on a black leather cord and he frowned at it in confusion.

“Holy shit! That’s mine!” Eddie gasped. “I thought I lost it that day our at the Sinclair farm when I rescued the horses. It must have fallen off then.” He reached out to rub the surface of the pick between his finger and thumb. “I thought it was gone for sure.”

Steve put the necklace around Eddie’s neck and used it pull this beautiful man to him. Then he sealed their lips with a kiss.

~

“You did a good job, Robin,” I said, appearing next to her as she watched Eddie and Steve whisper their ‘I love you’s. He bumped her shoulder with his. “And yes you can stay here. You’re happier here than you ever were in the North Pole. You found your people.”

Robin blushed a bright pink. “Thanks, boss. I thought for sure the job was sunk when Dolores passed away, but I think he had more influence on this sweet little group then she would have.”

“I think if there is a God,” I said warmly, “I think he was looking out for our Stevie, too.”

“What will happened to Steve now?” she asked fondly.

I chuckled. “He’ll move out here to Hawkins and go to school at the state school, get a degree in doing something he loves and continue to deepen the connections he made here over the last month.”

Robin nodded. She looked up at Santa and he appeared younger than when she saw him at the Christmas Market.

“The more Christmas spirit there is,” I explained to her unasked question, “the younger I appear. It’s nice to be able to straighten my spine, it’s been awhile.”

“Does that mean Mrs. Claus also gets young and hot, too?” Robin asked with a grin.

I laughed my jolly ole laugh. “Too bad you won’t be heading back to the North Pole with me to find out.”

“Rude.”

“I punished Myrtle, by the way,” I told her. “The elf who sabotaged your sleigh.”

Robin cocked her head to the side. “Yeah?”

“I told her that I was taking her with me on my around the world trip,” I explained.

“That doesn’t sound like much of a punishment,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms with a pout. “That’s like the dream come true of every elf in the workshop.”

I tucked my thumbs in my belt loop and rocked back on my heels with a grin. “As reindeer scooper.”

Robin blinked for a moment as she took in what he just said, then she threw her head back and laughed.

“Merry Christmas, Robin,” I said kissing the top of her head.

Merry Christmas, indeed, she thought with a smile.

~

Tag List: COMPLETED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

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

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

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

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9- @steddieislife @tartarusknight @themoonagainstmers

[nervoustoastthing]

MCGA headcannons (fluff and angst)

SOME BITS OF HEAVY ANGST AHEAD. READ WITH CAUTION.

•Blitz and Hearth go to renfairs (am I spelling that right?)

• Blitz is always a knight but Hearth just stays an elf

• Hearth is Blitz’s model

• Magnus is overstimulated most of the time

• He’ll usually resort to taking off his shirt because it makes him feel trapped

• He does have some body dysmorphia but he’s trying his best :]

• Alex loves to mess with Magnus’ hair

• It’s his favorite

• Sometimes she does have flashbacks to her dad but she’s working through it

• Magnus calls Sam Samsung when he’s bored

• Somedays Magnus doesn’t fight in the morning battles cause he’s tired/upset

• Alex always notices and tries his best to help

• Alex hates peas

• And when the mashed potatoes are too mushy (me projecting)

• T.J.’s favorite game is Elder Scrolls: Blades.

• He’ll talk for hours, just flapping his hands.

• Magnus likes to chew on things

• Fierrochase is the biting each other couple

• They commit random crimes and then go to a different world so the cops can’t chase them

• Hearth makes flower crowns for him and Blitzen

• Magnus will eat ice all day until Sam stops him

• Sam and Magnus are best friends and I will die on this hill

• When Magnus needs a parent for something he’ll always use blitzstone

• Alex tries to go to art school

• Magnus ends up selling famous poetry

• Alex’s art become pretty well known

• Blitzen gets to design clothes for famous people over the years

[hotchfiles]

This isn't a request or anything I'm just speaking into the void. Aaron and sitter!reader, they're out with Jack like... While they're in the process of figuring out their relationship, like it's Christmas time and they took him out to see Santa and someone(probably one of the elves) mistakes jack for reader and Aaron's son to Aaron after reader has picked jack up to give him a piggy back ride and started to walk away. Aaron doesn't have the heart to tell this random elf woman that, no, that is not my partner, and that is my son not theirs. He just says a quiet thank you and moves to catch up with reader. (I stole this scene from a scene in 911 between two or the MCs😇) ya I'm done now

it has been a while since the last time aaron felt so joyful over christmas. he tried his best always to stay at the top of his dad game for jack, but holidays were hard. haley always made it seem so easy, effortless, and now it was on him to bring that joy to jack and he had felt alone for quite some time trying to do that.

this time around he actually felt the joy himself, he felt warm. he couldn't help but smile as you and him opened the big boxes with the darth vader helmet + mask, a stormtrooper one, the lightsaber and blaster. in people passed by and you didn't seem to have a single care in the world as you helped jack put part of his darth vader costume on.

after renting one for halloween, his obsession with star wars skyrocket instead of going down, and when aaron decided to ask jack what he wanted for christmas and his boy answered with only darth vader with insane amounts of energy, he decided to just take him to the mall to get it instead of having him wait.

you, on the other hand, decided to buy yourself the stormtrooper set, because of course, jack would need company when playing. and now you were both wearing it and pretending to fight in the mall, laughter taking over the whole place as aaron's heart is filled with what he imagines the christmas spirit is made off.

some of the employees hired to play elfs actually stopped to watch, using it as an excuse to take a break and to marvel at how good some families seemed to have.

"you know, if one of my parents supported my interests like that, my teens would've been easier." one of them tells the other, thinking the chatter of the mall will conceal their confession.

"yeah, it's so cute, one of them is there looking so in love, the other is playing carelessly... lucky boy."

lucky boy. jack has had his big share of pain in his short life. but right now?

lucky boys indeed.

[julieee404]

Kinktober day nine!!

"Oh I don't think so love, you're mine"

❥ Stuck, Incest, dub-con ❥ Draco Malfoy

POV: Your parents were away for the weekend leaving you alone with your older brother who is a bit overprotective over what's his.

Trigger warnings: Incest, P in V, dubious consent, swear words.

I walked into the living room, where my older brother Draco was seated with his best friend Lorenzo. "Draco do you know where the freshly washed clothes are?"

He looked up from talking with Lorenzo and looked me up and down. "Most likely in the washing room." I shook my head no "No I already looked."

Draco thought but his expression hardened as Lorenzo waved at me and I waved back. "Then in mom and dad's room." He said through gritted teeth.

"Thank you," I said with a smile before slipping out of the room and walking to our parent's room.

Draco has been becoming more and more possessive lately. Always glaring at people I'm talking with especially if they are boys.

Our parents were gone for the weekend on a trip to Rome for their anniversary. Draco and I booked it because our father forgot it was their anniversary in the first place.

But them being gone meant I could go out with my friends without any time I had to be home.

The freshly washed clothes were indeed in our parent's room. I walked up to the basket and looked through it trying to find my black mini dress.

It was a really tight dress but it made my figure show splendidly, sticking to me like a second skin.

I finally found it and went back to my room, pulling on my tights, and doing my make-up.

Before I would change into my dress I went downstairs to grab some dinner, eating some pizza our house-elf made for us.

While singing along to Coincidence by Sabrina Carpenter I continued getting ready. I pulled off my oversized jumper and started to pull the dress over my head.

Since the dress was so tight it was always a pain to put on. And of course, I had to get stuck.

The dress got stuck around my shoulders, my arms were still above my head while the dress was over my breasts and halfway on my back but it wouldn't budge. And because of that my arms were stuck above my head as well.

"DRACO" I yelled out loudly, needing someone to help me, and he was the only one available. "WHAT" he yelled back from downstairs.

"CAN YOU HELP ME PLEASE, I'M STUCK" I yelled back as loudly as I could. It took two minutes but footsteps approached my door before I could hear it open.

"What did you need help wi-" Draco cut himself off and started to laugh. "Don't laugh just help me put it on please." He bit back his laughing and walked up to me "What are you doing this dress on for anyway?" He asked me while gripping the edge of my dress.

"Oh, I'm going out." His motions froze and he looked down at me "No you're not, not in that dress." He moved his hands to grip my waist tightly and he growled into my ear.

"You think I'm going to let you out in that dress? You're mine." I tried to look at him, having a confused look on my face "What do you mean? I'm your sister?"

He growled and chuckled "So? You're mine, I'm the only one who gets to look at you, and who gets to touch you." He started to move me over to the bed/

"Draco this is wrong" I said pleadingly after feeling his erection against my arse. His grip tightened "I don't care if it's wrong, you're mine."

Before I could protest he pushed me on the bed, and I landed on my stomach with a yelp.

Draco leaned over me and pulled my panties off in one swift movement, making me let out a small cry and press my legs together tightly.

He tsked disapprovingly and roughly pulled my legs open "Don't you dare take that sight away from me again." He growled and moved his hands between my legs.

Draco started to rub my clit quickly. I squirmed "Draco no you're my brother!" He growled, "I don't care that I'm your brother, you're mine."

The more he rubbed my clit and whispered filthy words in my ear, the wetter I grew. My body was betraying me, and obviously, Draco noticed.

He chuckled "You say no, but your pussy betrays you, little sis. You're getting wet." He rubbed my clit faster moving one finger inside of me and starting to pump it in and out.

"Are you getting wet from your brother fingering you?" He asked mockingly making me let out a little moan in protest. He curled his finger making it hit my G-spot.

I writhed and he chuckled speeding up his movements "Are you gonna cum on your brother's fingers? Such a little slut" He said, his voice taking on a seductive and low tone.

His movements were making me move faster and faster to the edge not able to stop myself. His words weren't helping either, turning me on more and more.

I clenched down around him and came letting out moans of pleasure.

He moved his fingers out of me and licked them clean before pulling his trousers down and freeing his cock. "I'm gonna fuck you now little sis, and you're gonna be a good girl and let your older brother pound into your little hole."

I clenched around nothing at his words, and let out a soft moan. He moved to lay over me and pushed inside in one hard stroke. "C- condom" I whispered hoping he was wearing one. He chuckled darkly.

"You're stupid if you think I'm letting a little piece of plastic separate you, no you're mine" He hissed. He started moving quickly making me moan loudly and squirm.

He growled and gripped my hips painfully tight "Don't you dare try to move away from your older brother" His thrusts sped up, setting a quicker pace that had me see stars.

"Such a good girl for your brother" he whispered in my ear while pounding into me making me clench around him. It was so incredibly wrong but it felt so incredibly right.

He groaned "You're so tight around me sis like you were made just for me." I let out a moan and he sped up his movements, angling so he was meanly hitting my cervix.

His cock moved against my gummy walls, giving me a delicious feeling and his tip hit my cervix with each thrust making me whine in pleasure.

"Are you gonna cum on your brother's cock?" He asked while removing one hand from my hip to rub my clit.

I let out a scream as I came around him. He kept slamming into me, riding out my high.

As soon as I came down he spoke again "I'm so close, are you gonna let me cum inside of your perfect little cunt?" From the tone of his voice, I knew it wasn't a question.

"Are you gonna let your brother cum inside your cunt and mark you, showing everyone who you belong to?" Before I could protest his hips stuttered and he finished inside of me.

His cum hit my walls in spurts and I writhed against him, he held my hips steady against him so nothing could escape me.

When he was done he pulled out and put my panties back in place. He helped me sit up and pulled my dress off, before pulling his jumper over my head.

He kissed my lips softly "You were so good for me, so good for your brother." I let out a soft whine and he smiled "Come on let's go watch a movie."

Draco lifted me up and walked downstairs before settling on the sofa. Pulling me on his lap "I love you, little sis." He said kissing my temple.

Kinktober masterlist 2024

[agaypanic]

Love your work btw you’re amazing 😫😫! But anyways could you pls do a Bernard x reader where she’s Scott’s daughter and her and Bernard are dating but keeping it a secret and he finds out and like gets upset about it and overreacts a little and tells them they can’t see each other anymore and maybe like she has to leave the North Pole for some time but Bernard sneaks to her house and idk just some angst ouuu and maybe in the end everything works out and Scott apologizes, sorry it’s so long but i feel like this one’s a good one<333

The Boss' Daughter (Bernard the Elf X Calvin!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The best part of your dad becoming Santa Claus was probably meeting his right hand elf Bernard. But when your dad finds out about your secret relationship, he thinks the best thing is to keep you away from the North Pole until you get over your “little crush.”

A/N: thank you so much for 1.3k followers!!! it means so much! reader is in college, spending her winter break at the north pole. possibly ooc scott/santa ?? also lowkey forgot that lucy existed lmao

***

You loved Christmas. Even before your dad became Santa Claus, you enjoyed the holiday. Well, as much as you could, considering that some of your pre-Santa Dad memories involved your parents fighting and having two somewhat bland celebrations at different houses. Other than that, you enjoyed the occasion.

But you loved Christmas much more now, due to a certain elf.

“Here’s some cocoa.” You said softly, setting the piping hot mug on Bernard’s desk as he read over some paperwork. He quickly scanned over the last paragraph on the page before looking up at you.

“Hey,” Bernard said softly, giving you a smile. “Thanks.” He grabbed the mug and took a sip, visibly relaxing from his stiff, hunched-over position. You leaned against his desk, drinking from your own cup. “How’s your day been?”

“Probably better than yours.” You laughed, looking at the vast amount of papers on Bernard’s desk.

“Yeah, probably.” He agreed, sighing at the sight before looking back at you. “But my day’s getting better now that you’re here.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” You giggled, feeling your cheeks heat up. No matter how cold the North Pole was, Bernard’s words always made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, as cheesy as that is. You push off from the desk and stand, taking another sip of your cocoa. “So, I have a question.”

Bernard pouted, turning his chair to face you.

“And here I thought you just wanted to see my handsome face and give me treats.” He joked. You snickered, slapping his shoulder lightly before settling in his lap, putting an arm around his shoulders to stabilize yourself. Bernard put the hand that wasn’t holding his mug on your waist, keeping you close. “What’s your question?”

“Well, I know that you get really stressed leading up to Christmas.” You twirled some of Bernard’s curls around your finger as you spoke. “And I know that you’d probably rather be running around the workshop making sure everything’s in order while my dad’s gone. And I came up here to spend my break with you, but I don’t exactly wanna spend it chasing you around the workshop.”

“Isn’t there supposed to be a question?” Bernard teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“I was getting there.” You said. “Anyways, I was wondering if we could do something together while my dad’s gone. Like go ice skating or look at the lights around the North Pole or something.”

“Y/n, you can do that any day.”

“Yeah, but not as a couple.” You argue gently. “Whenever my dad’s around, everything feels so awkward because we’re trying so hard not to give away the fact that we’re together. Christmas Eve is the one day that he’ll be away, and everyone else will be so busy making sure the night goes smoothly that they won’t notice us sneaking away.”

“Angel, I’m like, the main guy who has to make sure the night goes smoothly.”

You pouted, knowing Bernard was right. Although you knew he loved his job, sometimes you wished he wasn’t Head Elf. More of your limited time could be spent together. Plus, you wouldn’t have to worry so much about your father, who your boyfriend worked directly under, finding out you were dating.

“It was just an idea.” You sighed a bit dejectedly as you leaned more into Bernard. “I just… I wish we could do couple things, you know? Like in public. But I know Dad would probably go ballistic, and I’m not exactly confident in the other elves’ ability to keep a secret.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bernard replied softly, kissing the side of your head before taking a gulp of hot chocolate. “One day, it’ll be different.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, drinking and taking each other’s warmth. Eventually, Bernard looked down into his empty mug and sighed.

“I should get back to work.” He said, clearly not wanting to. You nodded, shifting in his lap to stand up when Bernard squeezed your hip. You looked at him with a raised brow. “At least give me a kiss before you go, angel.”

You grinned and did as he requested. Both of you tasted like chocolate and peppermint, and you couldn’t help but giggle when Bernard went in for another kiss when you pulled away.

Distracted by what you were doing, you and Bernard failed to hear a knock on his office door or the person opening it.

“What’s going on here?” You and Bernard broke apart, looking over to see your father looking at you in shock. You jumped out of Bernard’s lap, trying to seem like you weren’t just making out with him.

“Hey, Dad.” You said, your voice wavering from your nervousness. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” It was clear that he wasn’t a fan of what he just saw. “What are you doing here, on his lap?”

You and Bernard didn’t answer; you didn’t really know how to. All three of you stared at each other, you and Bernard with slight fear and your dad with sternness. The tension grew unbearably thicker by the second.

“How long has… this been going on?” Your dad finally asked. He wasn’t stupid; it was safe to assume that there was some kind of relationship between you and his Head Elf.

“Um…” You were glad Bernard decided to answer the question, because you’re pretty sure your voice died in your throat. He played with a pen on his desk, not wanting to look up at Scott. “About two… Yeah, two years.”

“Years?” 

“Dad, don’t freak out.” You took a step towards him, and his gaze snapped to you.

“I forbid this. Forbid it, Y/n.”

“I’m an adult; you can’t stop me from dating Bernard.”

“Oh, yes, I can.” Your dad laughed, but he was far from amused. “You’re my daughter, and he’s my employee. My elf employee.”

“We’re grown-ups; we’re allowed to decide whether or not we want to date.” You knew arguing with your dad was a bit pointless, but you figured you might as well try. 

“You’re right, you are grown-ups. Bernard is over a thousand years old!” Under different circumstances, you would’ve laughed. Although you looked the same age, Bernard was an immortal being. One of the things you teased him about was being a grumpy old man, which he would always respond to with an eye roll. Your dad sighed, putting his hands on his hips as he thought. “Y/n, pack your stuff. I’m sending you to your mother’s.”

“What?” Bernard was out of his chair and by your side in an instant, both of you shocked by your dad’s words. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m as serious as frostbite! And until you get this little crush out of your system… Y/n, you can’t come back to the North Pole.”

***

You felt numb all over. It had been five days since you left the North Pole, since you last saw Bernard. Your goodbye was filled with tears and kisses that your dad didn’t see. Bernard promised that he would see you again someday soon, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t believe that.

You tried to put on a happy face for your family. But they all knew better. Your mother was mad at your father on your behalf, unable to understand how Scott could break his daughter’s heart by sending you away. Neil did his best to comfort you, being a psychiatrist and all. Charlie went on about how unfair it was that you couldn’t go to the North Pole anymore, slightly ignoring the fact that you didn’t care much about the North Pole compared to Bernard. And Lucy just hated to see you so sad, bombarding you with hugs every chance she got.

When Christmas Eve arrived, you wanted to hide under the covers. If your mom and Neil wouldn’t try to drag you out of bed, you’d sleep your way into the new year.

Your parents coaxed you into watching movies with them later that night. Despite the occasion, they steered clear of the Christmas movies, not wanting you to cry more than you already have. But Bernard was still on your mind as you toyed with the necklace that he had given you for Christmas one year, right before he admitted that he liked you.

While your family argued over what to watch next, you got up and went to the kitchen to make yourself some tea. 

You put the kettle on the stove and picked out some sleepytime tea, hoping that would make the night end faster. When it started whistling, you took the kettle off the burner. You heard frantic knocking on the door as you poured the hot water into your mug.

“Who could be knocking at this hour?” Neil murmured as he got up and went to the door. When he opened it, he froze for a second before popping his head into the kitchen. “Y/n, it’s for you.”

Confused, you left the kitchen. You didn’t tell any of your friends that you were in town, so you had no idea who was waiting for you on the other side of that door.

“Hey, angel.”

You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of Bernard standing in front of you. At first, you thought it was your imagination, some cruel joke being played by your subconscious. But when you reached out to him, and he immediately laced your fingers together, you knew it was real.

You yanked him into the house, wrapping your arms around him with almost the strength of a death grip. Bernard did the same, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

Being too wrapped up in your little reunion, you didn’t notice your parents tell your siblings that it was time for bed in order to give you and Bernard some privacy. When you finally pulled away, you were a bit surprised to find the room empty. But you weren’t going to complain about it.

“What are you doing here?” You asked Bernard, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he was here, right in front of you.

“You said you wanted to be together for Christmas Eve.” Bernard held your cheek and kissed you sweetly, showing all the yearning you had both felt this past week. “I don’t care what your father says,” Bernard whispered against your lips, giving you a few pecks. “He can’t keep us apart. I’ll retire and leave the North Pole if I have to.”

“You don’t mean that.” You shook your head, grabbing Bernard’s hands. “Bernard, you love your job, even if it drives you crazy.”

“I’d go even crazier without you, Y/n. Not knowing where or how you are.” Bernard argued, squeezing your hands. “You know, I liked having you all to myself at first, but it’s so hard having to pretend I don’t love you as much as I do.” Your breath hitched at the sincerity in his confession.

“You love me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but with how close Bernard was, he heard it as clear as day.

“Of course I do, Y/n.” Bernard kissed you again, and then a few more times.

“I love you too.” You responded between the kisses.

Eventually, you were somehow all out of kisses to give. The two of you moved to one of the couches, where you cuddled up together. You didn’t need to put on a movie or say anything. You just soaked up each other’s presence that you had missed so dearly.

“Should we head to bed?” You asked after a long silence. “Or do you need to head back home?”

“I left Curtis in charge.”

“Oh, then you should definitely go back.” You snickered. You knew Bernard wasn’t entirely fond of Curtis, but he could probably hold down the fort for one night. “Come on, I’m tired.”

You stood up, Bernard close behind you. You started to lead him out of the living room when you heard a thump. Startled, you turned around to the source of the sound, seeing a giant red sack in your fireplace.

“Oh god.” You whispered, gripping at Bernard’s arm. You’d run up the stairs and hide in your room, but you felt frozen in your place. Bernard seemed to have the same sentiment, because the two of you stood and watched black boots appear in the fireplace.

Soon enough, your dad emerged, freezing as he saw the two of you.

“Y/n, I- Bernard? What are you doing here?” He straightened up, looking at the two of you inquisitively. It was softer than the last time he looked at you and Bernard, but you were still a bit weary.

“I came to see Y/n,” Bernard answered, feeling braver than he did while interacting with your father for the past week. 

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Look, Dad.” You took a deep breath. As happy as you were to have Bernard back, you wanted to go back to hiding under your covers. “We don’t care that I’m human and he’s an elf. Or that he’s a thousand-year-old grumpy man.”

“Hey!”

“Bernard and I, we love each other. You represent a holiday that’s all about being together with the people you love; how could you try to keep us apart?”

Scott was quiet, staring at you with a blank expression. Eventually, he sighed.

“You’re right.” He said. “It was wrong of me to do that. I just… I don’t want my daughter getting hurt, is all. No father wants that. I’m sorry.”

Happy that he seemed to change his mind about the situation, you ran around the couch and hugged your dad. Being the big, jolly man he was, his embrace lifted you slightly off your feet.

“If you want, you can come back,” Scott said when he set you down. “To the North Pole.”

“Maybe.” You say, going back to Bernard. “Maybe I could go in the morning, bring the rest of the family.”

“That sounds good to me.” Your dad said, taking presents out of his giant sack and putting them under the tree. While placing them, he glanced at Bernard. “Bernard, if you’re here, who’s looking over the shop?”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Bernard’s jaw clench, and you let out a small giggle.

“Curtis…” 

“Oh boy. Have fun with that.” Your dad laughed, setting down the last of the presents and tying up the sack. He pointed at you. “No peeking, Y/n. Not until morning.”

“I promise.” You said, knowing that you would grab a present to open right after he left. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m guessing you’re staying here tonight too?” Scott asked Bernard, who nodded. “Okay. Take care of her.”

“I will.” The two men knew they weren’t talking about Bernard caring for you for just the night. They knew it would be much longer than that.

You waved goodbye to your father, and he soon disappeared up the chimney, leaving you and Bernard alone in the living room once again.

“I’m glad you came.” You said, leaning into Bernard’s side and resting your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you and looked down at you.

“Me too.” He kissed your head. “I know you might still be tired, but there’s still about an hour of Christmas Eve left, and this neighborhood has really nice Christmas lights. We can go look, if you want?”

You squealed, kissing Bernard’s cheek and running to get your shoes.

***

Bernard the Elf Taglist: @katerinaval

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Some Much-Needed Downtime TBH

ok I kinda read these species-swap chapters quickly without commenting 2 nights ago bc I REALLY wanted to catch up to the show, and honestly I didn't have much to say? It was a fun showcase of some different species talents, and introduced multiple fun problems for the characters to solve [takes notes in DM]. But it didn't seem to move either plot or characters forward much. Some notes:

Honestly it's surprising that there's only been 1 count of food poisoning so far, when they're trying SO MANY new things. One must credit Senshi's cooking skills!

This might be the single funniest joke so far:

I've seen multiple posts saying Senshi's elfsona reveals him to be feminine by dwarf standards, and I'm genuinely BAFFLED by that take because it is SO obvious that Senshi's elfsona reveals him to be 1. the Hottest Man You Have Ever Met, and 2. HAIRY. We have seen 0 other elves with facial hair. I dug up that showcase of different elves and 0 of them have facial hair. In the Tolkienien lore from which all modern fantasy, or certainly this sort of fantasy, is derived, exactly 2 elves in the history of the world are said to have had facial hair. Elf!Senshi has a tiny little moustache. Elf!Senshi isn't feminine, he is the HOTTEST, HAIRIEST bear in the metaphorical gay club.

...it's possible that he's more of a himbo than we realize, though.

I don't know what's up with Kensuke and I AM worried that it's being directed by the demon. I want it to be Laios's friend so bad...

It occurs to me that "the winged lion is actually the demon at the root of all of this" is probably the biggest spoiler I've gotten, and I didn't even realize how huge a spoiler it was because I DIDN'T get spoilered for the fact that, so far as the characters know, the lion is supposed to be a helpful god. Don't play with spoilers, kids! Even if you want to read the juicy meta!

This initial fight with the gargoyles is probably my new second-favorite "Laios is really quickly analytical and problem-solving in combat" moment (the living armor fight is still #1). He sees how everyone is failing, prevents more problems as he can, realizes they can't win and puts together what pieces they need to get out. In group social dynamics, he's a mediocre leader at best, but he's a superb combat tactician.

Laios is just living in his own little after-school special, and I love him for that.

That first panel is definitely support for the theory that the 50-60yr life expectancy of "short-lived" races like tallmen, orcs, kobolds and halffeet is shorter than it should be, relative to their ages of maturity, because the long-lived races control and hold most of the resources. It's even possible that their ages of maturity SHOULD be even older, but social conditions force them to become "adults" at a younger developmental age than dwarves, gnomes and especially elves!

Panel 3 is Marcille mentally shoving Chilchuck higher on her list of Lives to Extend by Whatever Magic I Can Learn.

I love how the way they figure out that the mushrooms' effects are easily reversible is literally by thinking through the greater social worldbuilding implications of the effects.

^This is the single most Dad we've ever seen Chilchuck...topped only by that 'carry child like a football' a moment later. Actually, he yeets Marcille a LOT while tall - here, over the jump in the travel montage, with Laios to make a loop for the gargoyle...which I'm dead certain is an indication of how he physically treated his daughters. Those kids got casually, affectionately tossed like salad.

.

AND THAT'S WHAT WE CALL FRIENDSHIP.

...okay maybe I did have several thoughts about those 2 chapters.

.

"[Falin] was much tougher than I was. I hear she and our parents still write to each other" is SUCH a line for painting a picture of Laios and Falin's childhoods, and Laios's feelings on it.

.

you can keep your Kabru Wink(TM)s, I am weak only for the Laios Fond Little Smile(TM).

.

I love how Senshi is still musing on this soul = egg metaphor, and I LOVE how both times now that we've seen Laios genuinely lose his temper, it's because someone was saying "why are you just being excited about eating monsters when Falin is in danger?!", and he's snapping because he is fucking NOT dismissing his sister in favor of eating monsters, he is doing EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER to save her and it just so happens that the only plans with a smidgen of success involve leaning into eating monsters. And by trying to stop him from that, you're stopping him from saving Falin.

.

Laios, how tf do you remember the Wink? I'm 99% sure Kabru never once winked in your interactions; I WAS looking for it. Was he just exuding wink energy? (I mean...yes.)

.

The dramatic irony jokes in this chapter are on POINT. Chilchuck: "There's no way this thing still works" [tram door slams shut on his heels, cars immediately starts moving]. "You won't find a military company in the dungeon" [smash cut to Shuro, Namari and Kabru unhappily leading the Canaries into the dungeon]. Impeccable.

Stopping this one here in preparation for going nuts about implied elf-related worldbuilding in the next chapters!

[joelslegalwhre]

Paddock Pass pt.3

One of max‘s love languages (at least in this fic) is physical touch, don‘t try to convince me otherwise. (I didn’t include the country/name of the gp by purpose, please don’t be confused haha) Sooo are you ready for some angst, some drama and a good time? Buckle up friends, it‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.

(You ever get distracted by Pedro Pascal tiktoks and spent an hour on your phone?…I‘m asking for a friend)

Thank you so much for the love on the first two parts! I‘m beyond grateful for every comment, reblog and like🩶

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader, dad!toto wolff x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: angst, fluff, toto being a bitch (or is he just a protective dad?), bad dad-daughter dynamics, unapproved relationship, cursing, insults, mutual pining turning into more, max has fallen head over heels, they act like an old married couple and don‘t even notice, kissing, light make out session at the end, not proofread

summary: After a horrible qualifying, Max manages to win the race. When he sees you afterwards, and looses all of his elf control. Which Toto doesn‘t welcome one bit. Oh what a simple kiss can do. But was it just that, a simple kiss?

Masterlist || taglist || part one || part two || part three

"Sorry but this is P15 Max, P15." his race engineer spoke through the radio, "Yeah, of course it is." Max answered annoyed. What should it have been? P1? Surely not, after his engine had started misfunctioning and in the end stopped working all together. He had the best lap time of them all, but with ten minutes left of q2, someone else would eventually drive faster than him. 

As he got out of the car, you could practically feel the bad mood he was in. Everyone who knew Max, could. And if it was you who just got out of your car, not being able to finish the qualifying that was looking so promising, you would've wanted to punch something. 

It was surprising you, how 'calm' he stayed. Max had temper, and you liked that, but sometimes it got a little out of hand - him kicking the car or not talking to anyone for hours -. Not this time, though. 

When he came back to the garage, his car still parked on the gravel, he took off his helmet, and walked straight to you. "You coming with me?" he asked, helmet in one hand, running the other through his slightly damp hair. "Yeah, of course." you nodded and got up from your seat. 

You followed him out of the garage, trying to keep up with his fast steps. He was practically running to the Red Bull facility. 

Max noticed your attempt to catch up to him, and slowed down, waiting for you. "Sorry." he said and continued walking, his steps still quick, but manageable. 

As Max and you were walking to the Red Bull facility, all eyes were glued on the two of you. Everyone eager to get a shot of Max.

You felt Max's fingers brush against your own, intertwining them with yours. It was his way of trying to stay calm, the warmth of your hand soothing him and helping him, not to do something he'd regret later. 

You felt your cheeks getting warm at the gesture. You loved when he did that. It was an indication of the trust that he had in you, like a security blanket. 

"Max?" you asked him, your voice quiet but still loud enough for him to hear you. "Hm?" You looked at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "You'll win the race tomorrow, it doesn't matter where you start," you gave him a lopsided smile, "You always win." 

His want to kiss you almost got the better of him. All me managed to do instead was to brush his thumb over yours, holding your hand just a little tighter than before. 

"And that's the last corner before the straight!" the commentator almost screamed into the mic, "I can't believe he did that," he continued excitedly, "That's it! Max Verstappen wins the Grand Prix, starting from P15!" 

You shot up from your seat, throwing your hands in the air. "Yes! There you go!" you shouted as if he could hear you, the excitement overwhelming. The garage was going insane, everyone hugging each other, cheering. You were right in the middle of it all, and it felt like a fever dream. You told him he'd win, but it was a lot of hard work to actually cross the finish line as first. 

You let out a deep breath, smiling at the TV as you saw Max driving back to parc fermé. All the mechanics and the rest of the team got up to gather there. "C'mon!" one of the mechanics nudged your shoulder, smiling at you. You mirrored his expression, following them outside. 

Max was still wearing his helmet when he ran towards your group and jumped into the crowd of mechanics that were shouting, whistling and cheering. When he was back on the ground, he shook hands with Christian, and some others, before he noticed you.

You still had a smile plastered on your face, that said "I told you." and even though he had his helmet covering most of his face, you knew he was also beaming.

Max slung his arms around your frame, lifting your feet from the floor, as he pressed you against his suited chest. Your arms found their place around his neck, and you hugged him as close as you could, with the helmet between you. 

When you let go of each other, you grasped his arms, something you did when you were excited or nervous, he had noticed. "You did it!" you squeaked and slightly jumped up and down with his arms still firmly in your grip. "You. Did. It." your voice was so full of joy and excitement, but above all you were so immensely proud of him. 

"You told me to," he said with a grin in his voice, as he freed his arms from your grip just to hold them in his again, "I couldn't disappoint my best girl." 

Just as he pulled you into another quick hug, you hoped that he couldn't feel your heart beating faster than his car passed the finish line. 

„"You better not." you joked.

You watched him going back to weight himself with his gear, taking his helmet off and running a hand through his hair, as he did so often. But after he did that, and put his helmet to the side, turning around. "Sorry," he said to the lady trying to talk to him, miles away. "I forgot something…"

Max almost ran back to the fence, where all of you were standing. You gave him a confused look, silently asking him what he was doing. 

The moment he reached you, still standing at your spot in the front, it turned into a curious one. Every part of your body was shaking, not knowing what to expect. 

„Is everything al-„ 

Max shut you up the second his hands cupped your face and his lips crashed down on yours. 

The kiss wasn't soft, and it wasn't harsh either, but full of desperation and longing. Full of all the emotions both of you had suppressed over the last months. It was perfect. 

Feeling his lips touch yours was a feeling like no other, you felt safe, protected and loved. You felt so much love through it, and if his hands wouldn't still cup your face, holding you up, your knees might've just given in.

As you parted, Max leaned his forehead against yours. "More than alright, actually." he whispered. 

Max didn't want to leave you there, he wanted to take your hand and go somewhere more private. Somewhere he could finally tell you just how much he loved you, how badly he needed you. 

"And now our winner, Max Verstappen!" He took a deep breath before he got onto the podium, waving to the crowd. He heard people cheering and whistling, and when he looked down to where you were standing, he couldn't contain his smile. You were holding your hands on both sides of your mouth, cheering him on with a loud "Whooow!"

You saw him looking at you and shot him a big smile, holding both thumbs up. 

Max chuckled as he took his place in the middle. When the anthems were playing, all he could do was stare at you. 

But soon all the bliss was gone, when Max was back in the garage with the trophy sitting on one of the tables, both of you seemed to remember that you were in fact not alone when you had kissed. 

Max had his arms wrapped around your waist, while you drew shapes on his arm. "Are you angry?" he sounded concerned.

"No!" Your answer came out quicker than you could think, and Max immediately let out a relieved breath. "Max," you almost whispered, "I‘d do it again, if that's what you mean." You were afraid to look into his eyes, so you kept your gaze fixed on his arms, "I don't care who has seen it, if my Dad did. I mean he probably did, and," Max interrupted your rambling by placing his fingers under your chin, making you look at him, "Babe," there it was again, the one small word. But this time you noticed it.

"Look at me." he continued. Max's voice was soft and quiet as he caressed your chin. "Don't worry about him, okay? We're in this together, and we'll manage it just fine." 

You knew he was just as worried as you were, but the way he tried to calm you made you love him even more. Love. You loved him. Max Verstappen. The boy who you never thought of saying so much as a "hello" to, accepting to just live with the crush you had on him. 

Your hands found his neck, and you slowly pulled him towards you, "Okay." was all you whispered before connecting your lips a second time. This kiss was shorter, a peck on the lips almost, but it was just as perfect as the first one was. 

"You ready to go?" he asked against your lips. "Mhm."  you answered, but your voice didn‘t have the same tone to it. 

The moment you intertwined your hands with Max's, you could hear your name being called, or more precisely, shouted.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "Here we go." 

Max gave your hand an encouraging squeeze.

"We got this." he kissed your hair and you both started walking towards the happening. 

Your Dad wasn't allowed to step foot into the Red Bull garage as someone from Mercedes, and there were already several securities keeping him from doing so.

Which didn't stop him from talking. 

"Du kommst jetzt mit." he told you to follow him. You knew his emotions were all over the place, when he started talking in his mother tongue. You could understand it most of the time, he raised you after all, but you rarely answered him in german. Since Max knew a good amount of german, he understood what he was saying. 

You didn't want to draw too much attention to the situation - clearly impossible - or start a fight right in front of them all, so you just dragged Max along with you as you followed Toto.

He seemed to know where he wanted to go, he was practically running. You just looked back at Max, giving him a look of "what the heck is this going to be". 

Max cared about you, more than you knew, more than he should be able to after just so little time. And if Toto just said so much as a wrong word or raised his voice, he could not hold back. The thought about what could follow for his work, long forgotten.

Toto stopped in his tracks so suddenly, that you almost ran into him.

"Are you done running now?" you asked him, already annoyed with how he was behaving.

"Oh I am, but trust me I'm not done with you, Fräulein."

You hated the word. He only ever used it when you were in trouble, and whenever someone called you it, you felt small. 

"Don't cal me that." you said coldly, "You know how much I hate it." 

"You know what I hate?" his voice sharp as he spoke, „When my daughter whores around with the opposite team. Like some Boxenluder?" 

Did he really just call you a pit babe? You could just scoff at him. It hurt that he seemed to think of you that way. 

„So that's what you think this is, Dad? Whoring around? Are you serious?" your voice didn't come out as strong as you wanted it to. 

"I took your pass and five minutes later you're hanging around his neck?" He almost spit the word 'him' out, as if it made him sick. "I really thought I raised you better than this, walking through the paddock sucking dick." 

Every word you wanted to say before that, got stuck in your throat at his words. What did he just say? 

"Dad, do you even hear yourself?" you whispered in disbelieve, and hurt. 

"Don't you dare talk to her like that." Max was on his last nerve now, and you could feel it. His whole body was under tension, and his hand was twitching towards yours. 

„Oh so you're going to tell me how I should do things now? Who do you think you are?" Toto mocked him. 

"Oh, I will if you don't stop acting the way you do." Max started, "Treating your own daughter like shit, just because she's not your clone," he let out a bitter laugh, "That's the lowest of the low." 

"Max," you whispered, looking up at him, taking his hand. But he couldn't let this go on. 

„If you don't like me, that's okay. It doesn't matter. But I swear to you, if you don't stop with this bullshit, treating her like she committed high treason, I'll find a way to get you kicked out of here." His voice was bitter, and you knew he meant every word.

"And trust me, I will." 

You've never heard him talking so coldly, threatening.

"Oh yeah right. Because the whole fucking paddock is yours," your hand tightened around Max's at the words leaving your Dad's mouth. "Dad." you said firmly. You hadn't raised your voice once since this started - much to Max's astonishment - but Toto didn't seem to care as long as you didn't shout it in his face. He wanted to say something else when you snapped, "Dad, dammit, listen to me for once!"

„I'm sick and tired of you acting the way you do! I can't change who I am, god I've said this so many times, I'm sorry that I'm not the kind of daughter you'd like to have." At this, you could see something in your Dad's facade start to break, but you didn't care anymore. 

"And you know what? I'm not at all sorry for being with Max. Believe it or not, but he has shown me more love in the past month, than I think you ever could." you felt the tears burning in your eyes again, but you could also feel Max's strong hand around yours, soothing you a little. 

"I'm a grown adult, Dad. So I would very much appreciate you coming to terms with the situation. And if you can't, I'm just sorry for you." 

Toto took a deep breath, but before he could say anything, you added, "I don't expect you to suddenly love Max or be okay with whatever your problem is. But if you love me just the slightest bit, just try to, Dad." 

Without anything further, you took Max's hand in yours, gaining a sour stare from Toto. And you couldn't care less. 

You left your Dad standing in the little corner between the motor homes.

"Are you okay?" Max asked with a worried tone. "No." you answered him quietly. 

Of course, you weren't, but Max wanted to make sure how you felt. He began caressing your hand with his thumb, while he was guiding you to the Red Bull motor home. 

He walked straight to his drivers room, knowing it would be quiet and private. "Hey Max, do you have a second?" Helmut waved at him. "Not now okay? Sorry." Max shot him an apologizing smile, but when Helmut's eyes wandered to you, he understood, giving the two of you an encouraging nod. You tried your best to smile at him, before Max led the way up to his drivers room. 

You've been in there several times, but this time, you were happier than ever for this small space of privacy. 

"Come here." Max  patted his lap. He had already sat down on the small couch on the other end of the room. You walked over to him and cuddled up in his lap. He was warm and his smell engulfed you. You took a deep breath. 

"Thank you."

Max looked down to where your head was resting on his shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around you. "For what?" 

"For putting him in his place, for sticking up for me," you nuzzled your face deeper into him, "For being there for me, I guess." 

You could feel Max moving underneath you, and then you felt his lips on your hair. "I'd do it again, as many times as possible. I hope you know that." 

You looked up, still in his embrace. "I do." A small smile crept upon your lips. 

You looked into his eyes, and all you could see in them was honesty and, you dared to think, love. Your hand gently cupped his cheek, and you run your fingers over his stubble.

"Can you please just kiss me now?" you whispered to his lips, as Max could only stare at you. 

He wasted not a second, reuniting his lips with yours. 

The familiar feeling of his lips touching yours, almost made him groan into the kiss. 

He had watched you walk through the paddock for years. The thought that you'd never be wearing one of his team shirts stung with him, but he'd be happy to just talk to you. That's all he ever dreamt of, and now look where he was.

You parted your lips from his, just for a second, to swing your leg over his lap to straddle him. "You have no idea how long I've dreamed about this." Max said, his eyes taking you in while his fingers tucked a stand of hair back behind your ear. "Yeah? Then why are you still talking?" you teased him, but letting him know that you felt exactly the same when he silenced you with his lips. 

Getting to taste you as his tongue moved over the softness of your lips, he could've died happily right then. The sounds of content, mixed with small moans of pleasure filled the room as you deepened the kiss. Max hands had found their way to your waist to pull you even closer. You enjoyed every second of it, the way his tongue felt against yours and the overwhelming feeling of contentedness. 

Panting heavily, you were forced to pull back. Your foreheads still touching, eyes closed.

"I'll always be there for you, I promise." Max whispered against your lips. His hands cupped your waist, drawing little shapes with his thumbs. 

Your own hands were placed in his hair, gently caressing him.

You placed your lips back on his, a silent promise that you would, too, not leave his side.

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