#actually inaccurate because his eyes would be wide open staring at the screen

[xmagicalpotatox]

Magolor if he had a gambling addiction

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

An Embarrassing Secret

Word count: 2150

I feel like some of these are sort of repetitive, but maybe that's because I've had to reread them to proofread so many times? In any case, you all seem to enjoy them! I hope you like this one as well.

* * *

“Ah! Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see!”

Loki flopped down on the couch beside you, jerking you from your thoughts as the couch cushion bounced under his weight. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned your gaze from the television to the Asgardian beside you, only inches of space between your leg and his.

“Me? What do you need from me? Trying to prank your brother again?” you snickered.

“Not this time, no. I just thought I should come find you and let you know about something interesting I learned this morning,” he replied, an impish lilt to his voice.

“Is this something I would find interesting? Or just you? Because the way you said that, I feel like I probably won’t find it nearly as interesting.”

“Oh, I believe you’ll find it very interesting,” he assured, a smirk tugging at his lips. Something about the way his gaze was fixated on you was unsettling. You paused the TV and turned your full attention to the god.

“What is it, then?” you questioned hesitantly.

“I learned quite an interesting secret about you earlier today.” There went your heart again, skipping another beat.

“You… did?”

“Oh, yes.” His smirk grew wider.

Your mind was racing. What on earth could he be talking about? Did he figure out you had a crush on him? What if that was the secret?? Was he disgusted by it? Did he reciprocate??

“That is interesting,” you noted, trying to keep your voice even to prevent him from seeing your anxiousness. “And… what was that, exactly?”

“Well…” he began, pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, “… this morning I happened to be perusing the library, trying to select a new novel to read. While I was wandering between shelves, I happened to notice something of yours sitting out unattended.”

You thought hard, trying to recall what it was you had been doing in the library. Had you even gone to the library this morning? You couldn’t even remember what you had for breakfast. Then again, it was difficult to concentrate with those blue-green eyes gleaming in front of you…

“And what was that Loki?”

“Your laptop.” Loki was now typing something into his phone, holding it in a way that you couldn’t see the screen.

“My laptop?” You rarely brought your laptop to the library with you, as you were typically reading books and had no need for electronics. You wracked your brain trying to remember when the last time you had even brought it with you to the library, looking away from the trickster so you could think straight.

Then you remembered. You’d brought it with you last night, hoping to get some peace and quiet away from the others, who were causing quite a ruckus in the common area playing one of Peter’s video games. You could still hear them through your bedroom door, so you packed up your laptop and brought it to the library with you to continue writing.

Writing. Oh. Oh no. No no no.

Your heart dropped into your stomach the moment you realized where this was going. Still, he hadn’t mentioned anything specific about what he’d seen yet, so you made every effort to keep a straight face. You weren’t about to give away a bigger secret if he had only learned something minorly embarrassing.

“At first, I was uncertain to whom the device belonged, and as it was already left open on the table, I decided to see if I could determine the owner so I could return it to them,” he continued, “and I found the screen to be unlocked when I turned the machine back on.”

Yep. You knew exactly where this was going now.

“You act like you were trying to do a good deed or something, but you were obviously just snooping around my stuff, weren’t you?” you muttered, trying to throw him off with your annoyance.

“Shh - I wasn’t finished with my recounting of the story yet,” he scolded facetiously. He had finally finished tapping buttons on his phone and was now scrolling through something on the screen. “When the screen unlocked, I saw quite a fascinating narrative typed out on the screen. Truly a masterpiece, really.”

“Y-you read it?” you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands.

“Oh, I did more than that darling. I also scrolled through and reviewed the rest of your little webpage.”

Your face was burning red hot against your palms now. If you could have just melted into the couch and disappeared, you wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. You felt your heart pounding in your chest with nervousness and embarrassment at the whole situation.

“Shall I read some aloud for you?” he asked.

“Nooooo Loki,” you moaned, your voice muffled by your hands. You lifted your feet up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees and hiding your face behind them, trying to become as small as possible.

“Ah, here is a good part: ‘The dark-haired god suddenly tackled you to the floor, pinning your arms down at your sides under his knees as he dug his long, slender fingers into your sides.’” You pulled your knees even closer to your chest. If the floor could swallow you whole now, that would be fantastic. “Darling, you’re not paying attention.” A poke to your side caused you to jolt one arm down away from your face to protect the sensitive skin. You stole a quick glance at the god, your eyes wide.

“D-don’t!” you exclaimed.

“Isn’t this what you want?” he asked, prodding your side a few more times, causing you to jerk away each time he made contact with your thin T-shirt. “Let’s see… ah! Another great line: ‘He drilled his thumb into the front of your lowermost ribs, digging his fingers into the sides of your ribcage simultaneously. You supposed you should have known that someone with his mischievous title would be good at tickling, but the way his fingertips sought out every single one of your weak spots was causing you to slowly slip into madness.’”

You started getting up off the couch to try to make a quick exit then, hoping to hide in your room for the rest of eternity. Loki caught on before you got very far, though, and grabbed hold of your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

“Let go!” you begged, refusing to look at him as you pulled your arm hopelessly to try to escape his grasp. He tugged you closer, quickly wrapping both arms around you and tackling you to the floor. A thrill ran through your chest as you found yourself staring up at the god of mischief, your wrists pinned to the floor at your sides in his hands.

“Seem familiar?” he asked, smirking. He leaned off to the side, looking at his phone screen beside you on the floor. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I remember.” Loki’s fingers connected with your sides, scribbling and kneading in the best worst way. You shook your head rapidly, still too embarrassed by the whole situation to allow him to hear you laugh. “Your narrative appears to be inaccurate – according to this, you should have ‘giggles bubbling from your mouth’ but I hear nothing.”

“Loki! S-stop teasing!” you pleaded, covering your face with your hands once again now that your wrists were freed from his grasp.

“I’m simply pointing out there are some inconsistencies in your writing, y/n.” He moved his fingers to your belly, scratching maddeningly gently at the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up from squirming. You couldn’t hold back the giggles anymore, but you did manage to keep one hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your voice as you brought your other arm down to protect your torso.

A small part of you, buried deep underneath the raging embarrassment you still felt, was loving every second of this playful side of Loki. Clearly you had fantasized about this before, as evidenced by your writing. You just hadn’t anticipated he would actually find your fics, much less read them and use them against you.

“Let’s continue, shall we?” he goaded, interrupting your thoughts. He picked up his phone in one hand while continuing to dig into your belly with the other to keep you squirming while he thumbed through more of your posts. “Here’s another excellent excerpt: ‘he moved to flutter his fingers against the delicate skin behind your knee, squeezing just above your kneecap simultaneously with the other hand, making you snort.’ I would very much like to hear that, I think.” He moved down to mimic his fictitious self in your writing, making you laugh out loud and kick your leg frantically. “Y/n, I’m not hearing any snorting. So many discrepancies; I have to wonder if you’ve ever been properly tickled in the same way as your fictional likeness.”

“Stohohop… stop making fuhuhun of my writing!” you demanded, although it wasn’t very intimidating laced with your laughter.

“Oh, I don’t jest, dear – I’m merely pointing out facts. Maybe this will make you snort.” He reached down and grabbed your ankle in one hand, lightly tracing the sole of your socked foot with one finger. You, indeed, did snort. “Aha! Maybe you should have requested assistance before posting these inaccuracies.”

“LEAVE MY FEET ALOHOHONE!” you shrieked, yanking your leg to escape his grasp. He responded by simply tightening his grip, dragging four fingers up and down your foot, making sure to note which spots made you jerk. He settled on scratching gently just below the ball of your foot, laughing himself as you rolled side to side trying desperately (and ineffectively) to evade his fingers.

“You realize, darling, you’ve essentially written a map to every ticklish spot on your body. I know exactly how to exploit your unfortunate weakness.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by unexpectedly switching to digging his fingertips between your ribs. The suddenness of his movement made you squeal, batting weakly at his hands. “It’s adorable, really, how you are pretending to fight me, when we both know this is exactly what you want.”

“SHH! Shuhuhut up Loki!” you countered. He put a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“You wound me, darling,” he teased, smirking. “What did that one quote state? Ah, that’s right! Your ‘death spot’ as you’ve titled it?”

“Wait! Nohoho I’m sohohohorry!!” you panicked, planting your feet on the floor, and trying to scoot away from your assailant.

“I don’t think you are, actually.” His fingers were inching vexingly closer to your ‘death spot’ as he’d pointed out. He found humor in the fact that your laughter slowly began pitching up in octave the closer he got. “I’m pleased that you’ve written this down for me to find, y/n. I don’t believe I’d have found it otherwise – as I understand, it is not a conventional place to be so unbearably ticklish.”

“No! No no! Plehehease Loki!” you pleaded, albeit halfheartedly.

“Hmm… alright then,” he conceded, moving back down to tickle your right side, moving his other hand to scribble on the right side of your belly. It had exactly the effect he was hoping for, causing you to jolt and roll hard toward his hands. Quickly, he grabbed your left side and pushed you all the way over onto your stomach, pinning your hands down to the floor with his knees. “On second thought, I think I’m going to do it.”

“NoOAHAHAH!” you practically screamed in laughter as his fingers made contact with your back, just below your shoulder blades. Seemingly encouraged by your reaction, he applied more pressure, gently kneading between the backs of your ribs. Your nerves were on fire with ticklish electricity, and you tugged desperately to try to free your hands. It wasn’t long before your laughter became silent, your shoulders shaking as you laid there and just accepted your fate.

It seemed Loki had noticed the sudden silence, and he removed his torturous fingers from your back, releasing your hands so you could roll back over. You curled up on your side, knees close to your chest and arms wrapped around your torso rubbing the residual tingles off your sides. He hovered over you, leaning close to whisper in your ear.

“You know, darling – if you wanted me to tickle you, you simply had to ask. I find it quite adorable.”

“Oh my god, Loki…” you groaned, covering your face with your hands once again. A single finger scratched under your arm, making you pull your arms back down. “Stahahap!! Can’t you see I’m embarrassed??”

“Mm, I can see that. But was it worth it?” he asked teasingly, planting a kiss on your cheek. The flames ignited by his lips spread across your face, up to the tips of your ears.

You supposed that, just maybe, it was worth it.

Part 2: A Difficult Question

[threeminutesoflife]

Don’t Forget

Pairings: Steve x Black!Reader Summary: A look at family life for Steve, Reader and their daughter after reader suffers problems with her memory  Warnings: slight angst/ends happy, memory loss due to injury, smut, slightest breeding kink Word Count: 1.8k

prompt: 50 First Dates

a/n: @allaboardthereadingrailroad❣️🧡​ thank you for hosting the Diversity Challenge 

a/n2: piece is purposely choppy and randomly placed to reflect the reader’s struggle with memory. Also, references to Dark Knight, Love Actually, Say Anything, 50 First Dates.

___ A monetary, momentary impact- cause and effect:

Bank robberies were many things. Successful ones were more. Timing, precision, determination; a well-mapped out plan, and methodical dedication to achieve a streamless end result.

It was that sort of successful robbery that cemented you, an involuntary participant, on a repetitive course of choppy, foggy memories. Despite the jovial clown designs of the robbers’ masks, the severity of the situation was real.   

Because things really do play out in slow motion as dramatic events unfold- a deafening crash, a cloud of dusty sunlight pouring in through the bank's broken entrance. Stilted, broken flashes of your life projected themselves on the backs of your closed eyelids.

Unfortunately, you were within the range of the propelling debris when the school bus reversed into the building.

Because of that day, your memory would skip and strip. 

____

Exhilaration- friendly fear of tickle monsters:

The sound of tiny feet slapping the floor drew closer from down the hall, ten little toes against high-gloss maple.

The bedroom door crashed open with no regard to the plaster behind it.

Giggles cut through the room as thirty pounds of mischief in footed pajamas launched itself straight at you.

“Mommy!”

Your three year old squealed before bombing her limbs upon your stomach, "Daddy’s gonna get us!”

___

No time for regret, when you’re in the moment of gratitude:

Steve found you standing in front of the vanity, staring at the mirror- unfocused. Frowning slightly, he knew what you were doing to yourself.  

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Steve, do you ever think... it’d be easier if you didn’t ask me out all those years ago?”

“Which time?” Steve tested the waters with the usual joke, gathering time to prepare himself for the familiar, spirit-dampening conversation.

Every few months you’d ask him if all this was worth it- if the extra work to be with you was what he wanted. He’d always reply with, ‘Loving you's a blessing, not a chore.’

You’d hesitate at those words, at his sincerity- until he was able to coax affection back into your field of vision. Because you were worth it to him. 

“Steve, come on. I’m being serious.”

“Me too. I’m lucky to be as stubborn as people claim me to be-“

“Oh, it’s a fact," you snorted. "Not a claim. You’re stubborn.”

“Good thing for me then, huh?" Steve smiled, relieved by your humor. "Otherwise, I’d miss out on everything that’s good in my life.”

___

She’s got jokes:

A documentary splashed itself across the television screen as you sank into the couch next to Steve. Pointing your toes, you rested your legs over his lap and cracked open the fake memory journal's spin. 

Watching you from the corner of his eye, Steve hid his excitement that you brought the book out by him. 

You usually looked over it alone, too self-conscious to try remembering things in front of others. He always encouraged you to sit and read it with him. He liked resharing the stories you created together, but your underlying guilt for not recalling events easily shut the door on those conversations.   

Turning the page, you caught Steve glancing at you before shooting his attention back to the screen with a cough. 

Smugly stretching your legs, you bit your lip and rubbed your ankle over Steve’s bulge. Catching the way his thigh jumped and flexed under his thin sweatpants, your eyes darted back to the journal. You couldn’t wait to play out your prank. 

Keeping his eyes on the screen, Steve picked up your ankle and rolled his knuckles along the arch of your foot. As much as he appreciated the way you riled him up, he wanted you to open up.

Chuckling, you mumbled to yourself how great that day must have been before turning the page and complimenting another pretend event. 

Another faux memory praised, Steve twisted towards you before shaking his head and turning back to the screen. Pressing his thumb harder into the sole of your foot, he was unsure how to proceed. 

Delighted by his confusion, you complimented another memory with a theatrical dreamy sigh.

Giving in to his curiosity, Steve paused the television and gave it a shot, “What are we looking at?” 

“I thought it might be nice to talk about the stuff we did- like you’ve wanted.”

The smile that spread across Steve’s face almost made you feel bad for the prank.

“Yeah, yes- I’d like that,” he shut the tv off, practically dropping the remote in excitement. “What are you reading, what’s making you laugh?”

“How you asked me out using cue cards you made. The messages you came up with were sweet.”

“...Cue cards?”

“It was special of you, Steve. Taking the time to write out something on each one. Here. Look at this sentence, you called me perfect. Reading what you did and how loved I felt, you’re so wonderful.”

“...Honey...” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, “I don’t, I don't know anything about cue cards-”

“-And then the time you stood outside my bedroom window with that boombox. Holding it obnoxiously high above your head. Thank goodness for biceps, am I right?" You teased, nudging Steve with your elbow. "That gesture might be a little too much for some but reading how you made me feel, it meant so me.”

“You wrote that?” Steve questioned, an edge of concern creeping in. “You think I actually did-... you remember these things happening?”

“My favorite is right here. When you built that little house out of waffles at the diner. Setting up a kiddie pool of syrup for us to dip the roof in and a jacuzzi of hot chocolate nearby. And then your expression- when I said I'm more of a pancake person. You argued how pancakes aren’t sound enough for construction.” 

Keeping your poker face intact, you tried not to flinch as Steve inspected you intensely. 

Suddenly, he jetted forward and snatched the fake journal from your hands. Sailing it over his shoulder, he knocked your legs from his lap and climbed off the couch to loom over you. 

Before regret set in from your play of inaccurate historical accounts, your body snapped backward as Steve yanked you down the sofa by your ankles. 

“Hysterical. Pancakes over waffles” Steve scoffed dryly at your teasing, boxing himself over you and settling his knee between your legs. “I know you too well. You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

____

Adoration, a promise of tradition and support:

You sat in bed with her snuggled by your side, a little nose peeked out from under her blanket. Her little hand wrapped itself around your shirt, her other held a well-loved, stuffed bunny. 

Scooping her up, you cradled her in your arms. Warm security. Peeling a corner of the blanket back, you kissed her cheek. 

Between giggles, she raised the rabbit up in the air and you played along- one kiss for her, another for her stuffed friend.

She settled in slowly with a yawn as you hummed the lullaby your mother softly sang to you before bed. The same rich melody draped with the lyrics your grandmother sang to her children. 

Tears gathered in your eyes as you willed yourself not to forget this moment.

___

Gratitude and gratefulness:

“Can’t you see how beautiful you are? Knowing I’m yours- that you’re mine... when you come out of that bedroom each morning, I witness that recognition of love on your face when you see us...” Steve’s body tensed, his shoulders shook as he stumbled over the words. "...getting to see you with our girl each day."

“Hey," You called to him, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "Hey, handsome."

Steve pressed his forehead against yours and tried to push down his anxiety. 

Your eyes locked to his as you promised teasingly, “You and our daughter- seeing her each day- that’s my happiness. You're just a bonus.”

Sputtering a laugh, he closed his eyes and relaxed from your fingers threading through his hair. Steve never took for granted how you soothed him, especially during the times when he should actually be comforting you. 

“Thank you,” Steve whispered. 

“Some things are easier to remember than others for me.”

“Yeah?” His lips ghosted over yourself, a half-smile raising the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah. The journal's a great cheat sheet, makes it easier to recall I have a husband. Now, if only I could pick him-”

Steve moved quickly, cutting off your joke. His mouth trapped your next words when his tongue swept over your lips. 

___

Muscle memory:

“Hold your legs. Spread'em wide for me,” Steve instructed between a husky, broken grunt. “Wider, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself in front of you as you laid naked on your back. Your arms were sandwiched between the fold of your legs and hands locked around your ankles. You provided your husband more access and an even prettier view with your feet in the air and legs parted. 

He ran his fingers over your folds, circling your clit. Lining himself up, he thought how these were some of his favorite moments with you, the intimacy and the need.

Caught up in the stretch and sensation of him slowly entering you, you almost missed his next words over your moans. 

“Want…” Steve stuttered, “want to be deep in you, beautiful.”

You mewled under him, squeezing him from his words. Releasing your ankles, you grabbed his arms for support as he slowly slid deeper. Steve’s movements faltered with a groan, feeling you tighten around him.

He closed his eyes to concentrate as you felt goosebumps run down his forearms under your palms. 

“Fuck,” Steve cursed and praised, thrusting harder. Your legs bounced above your arms from each snap of his hips.

“Free your legs. Give me your hands, sweetheart,” Steve instructed, massaging your breast.

Pulling him down, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. You inhaled his woodsy shampoo as you dragged your nose along the light shadow of his beard. Capturing his mouth with yours, you tasted salt on his top lip.   

With a quick bite along your collarbone, his chest rumbled when you ignored his instructions. Collecting your wrists in one hand, he secured them over your head and ground into you harshly. 

“I love you,” Steve said, slowing his pace. 

You replied with a roll of your hips, earning a dark moan from him, "I love you, too.” 

Steve rocked back on his heels, dragging away his length and slipping out of you completely. Your body immediately began to cool from his lack of touch. 

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you called out, "What's wrong?"

“Your empty journal sheets bother me,” Steve stated, running his hands over your knees. "We're fixing that."  

His thumbs circled up your inner thighs, looping closer to your core. Spreading your legs further apart, he pushed them into the mattress. Taking himself back in his hand, he palmed his erection and rocked his shaft along your folds. 

"Let's have another baby, sweetheart," he smirked, teasing his tip into you. "Gotta fill up all those pages.”

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 10)

Chapter 10

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,494

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

          Jungkook and Catalina decided to keep the pictures to themselves for a while. It seemed like the den in the basement was part of a bigger organization than they thought, so they knew they’d have to be careful. Over the next few days, they debated whether to tell the police or to tell their friends. In the end, they decided to tell Namjoon. He was mad at them at first, but then told them to stay out of it. That he and Yoongi were already investigating and that it was way too dangerous for humans.

          As a way to distract them, or maybe just to give everyone a vacation, Namjoon booked a few nights for everyone at the ski lodge during the first week of snow. It was mid-week, so hopefully the lodge wouldn’t be busy.

          Catalina was excited. She had spent the day before the trip packing and daydreaming about what the lodge would be like. She’s never been a cold weather person, but Jungkook promised to teach her how to ski, and while skiing didn’t really do anything for her, Catalina was at the point where any time spent with Jungkook was a good time. He never brought up the kiss since it happened, but Catalina was unable to think about anything else. It was constantly on her mind, the way his body felt against hers, his hand in her hair, his soft lips… it was truly something she’s been losing sleep over.

          So when Catalina found out they’d all be staying in three connecting rooms, slumber party style, Catalina didn’t really know what to do with herself.

          The morning of the trip finally arrived and Catalina was ready. Her duffel bag was packed and she kept glancing at her phone, waiting for the text saying her ride was here. Last night, Hoseok had texted her that they rented a party bus to take them up the mountain.

          Finally, her phone buzzed, Hoseok’s name showing up on the screen.

          Hobi: we’re outside :D

          Catalina grabbed her bag and ran downstairs. The party bus was parked in front of her apartment building and the doors opened as she approached. Inside the bus, the four vampires sat on the bench seats on one side while Jin sat across from them.

          “Cat! Just throw your bag back there and have a seat!” said Hoseok. Catalina spotted the pile of bags in the back of the bus. She set hers down and took a seat by Jin. The doors of the bus closed and the bus started moving.

          “We just have a few more stops and then we’re on our way up the mountain!” Hoseok shouted. He was practically bouncing in his seat.

          “I’ve never been to a lodge before,” said Catalina. “I heard they have a hot tub up there.”

          “Oh yeah, they have a bunch of hot tubs, and a spa,” said Hoseok. “Are you gonna learn how to ski?”

          “I mean, Jungkook will probably make sure of it, but I don’t think that’s what I’ll be doing most of the time,” said Catalina.

          “I’m pretty good at skiing, if I do say so myself,” Jin said as the bus came to another stop. Jungkook hopped on and tossed his bag, skis and snowboard onto the pile in the back of the bus.

          “Is Jin talking about how good he is at skiing?” asked Jungkook, collapsing into the spot next to Catalina.

          “I was just about to tell them that I won a medal once-“ Jin started.

          “But his old bones don’t let do the things he used to in his youth,” said Jungkook. “So we might need to help him with the bigger slopes.”

          Jin launched himself past Catalina, attacking a giggling Jungkook.

          They stopped two more times, to pick up Jimin and Jimmy K, then they made their way up the mountain. Once the lodge came into view, Catalina understood why it was so popular. It was beautiful, all wood and logs and rocky landscaping. Snow dusted pine trees filled in every gap in and around the property. Ski lift wires ran back and forth behind the lodge, leading up even higher into the morning fog.

          “Oh wow! This place is fancy!” said Catalina. She was kneeling on the seat, looking out the window at the approaching property. The bus parked at the main entrance and everyone grabbed their bags and got off, heading into the building. Namjoon checked them all in and then led the way to their rooms.

          It turned out to be a huge, three room suite, so luxurious that Catalina once again wondered how wealthy these vampires were. The suite was rustic, all raw wood and furs, antlers above the hearth. There were two king sized beds in each room, plenty of space for everyone. Catalina wondered who she would share a bed with. She hoped it wasn’t Jungkook. Not that she didn’t want to be close to him, but she was afraid it would be too awkward and she wouldn’t end up getting any sleep. As it was, she already noticed herself avoiding him and staring at him from afar. She needed to snap out of it and act like an adult.

          Her behavior wasn’t as subtle as she thought though, because once everyone was settled, Jimin pulled her out into the hallway and asked, “What’s going on with you and Jungkook?”

          Catalina started at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”

          “Come on, don’t play dumb,” he said. “You guys are usually all over each other, joking and laughing at everything. What happened? Did you guys fight?”

          Catalina sighed and pulled Jimin further down the hall.

          “We kissed,” she said. Jimin’s eyes almost fell out of his head.

          “What?!”

          “Shhhhh!”

          “When?” he asked.

          “A while ago, we snuck into a vampire den and almost got caught, but to avoid suspicion, we acted like we were just making out in one of the rooms,” said Catalina. “It worked, they didn’t suspect us, they just kicked us out, but I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

          “Have you talked about it with him?” asked Jimin. “I mean, do you like him?”

               “I…yeah, I think I actually do,” Catalina said, her face burning up. “And no, we haven’t talked about it.”

               “You don’t think he was just leading you on, do you?” asked Jimin. “I can be mean to him if you want me to.”

               “No,” Catalina laughed. “He wouldn’t do that. I don’t think he knows I like him and I don’t think he feels the same way about me.”

               “I can find out for you,” said Jimin.

               Catalina chuckled and said, “It’s okay, really. I just need to get over this awkwardness and figure out how to be normal around him again.”

               “Whatever you say, but I just want you to know that I can be an amazing wingman,” said Jimin.

               “Thank you,” said Catalina. “I’ll let you know.”

               A few hours later found Catalina at the top of a hill, struggling to get her feet into her rented skis. Jungkook skid over to her with a huge smile on his face.

               “Are you excited?” he asked.

               “I guess” said Catalina. “I’m more nervous than anything.”

               It was true. Before she started putting on her skis, she had looked down the slope and it looked incredibly intimidating.

               “Don’t worry, I’ll come get you if you crash,” he said.

               Catalina didn’t want to crash. But she finished putting on her skis and, with Jungkook’s help, got to her feet. Jimin was at the edge of the slope.

               “I’ll see you guys at the bottom!” he said before taking off.

               “Okay, so you gotta keep your knees bent,” said Jungkook. “Just keep them bent and use them to bounce. Gravity’s gonna do most of the work. Use these to steer and control your speed. You can kind of turn sideways to stop yourself. This one isn’t too steep so you should be okay.”

               “This isn’t steep?!” Catalina asked, shuffling to the edge.

               “Just go ahead when you’re ready,” he said.

               “Wait, I’m not going first!” she said.

               “Yes you are,” Jungkook laughed. “If you fall or hit something, I gotta be able to follow you down to help.”

               Catalina eyed the slope once more, took a deep breath, then pushed herself off. At first, she had to use the poles to get moving, but then, as Jungkook had said, gravity mostly took over. This isn’t too bad, Catalina thought. Actually, this is a lot of fun. But then her speed started to pick up. A lot. Her heart picked up as well. The first bump she hit barely got her off the ground, but it was enough to make her panic when she hit the ground again. She started to swerve towards the trees. She dodged the first tree as best as she could, but shoulder checked it hard. This knocked her off balance, but luckily, the next obstacle was a snowbank. It didn’t hurt, but she fully landed in the bank, sliding off the side to lay on the ground.

               She pulled her goggles off and let out a groan. It didn’t take long before she heard another set of skis slide to a halt beside her.

               “Are you okay?” Jungkook asked as he knelt beside her. “Are you hurt?”

               Catalina waved a hand. “I’m fine. My shoulder will probably bruise but it’s okay.”

               Jungkook helped her sit up and Catalina automatically scooted away a bit. He dropped his hands. A painfully awkward silence followed, before Jungkook spoke up.

               “Is it about the kiss?” he asked.

               “What?”

               “You’ve been kind of avoiding me ever since,” he said. “I mean, not completely ignoring me, but it’s been really awkward. And I wanted to say that I’m sorry if the kiss made you uncomfortable. I never wanted-“

               “Jungkook, it’s okay,” Catalina said with a laugh. Her mind raced to come up with something to say. She didn’t want to tell him that ever since the kiss, her heartrate speeds up every time she looks at him and she spends every waking moment wondering when he’ll kiss her again, or even mention it. So instead, she said, “Really, it’s okay. We can just forget it happened and go back to how we were. We don’t have to make a big deal about it.”

               Catalina watched with dread as his face fell. He couldn’t have been feeling the same way, could he? Did she just ruin things? Before she could think of a way to take back what she said, Jungkook stood up and held out a hand.

               “Let’s get you back up there,” he said.

               After dinner, which only the humans attended, everyone gathered in the rooms. Jungkook hadn’t attended dinner and he wasn’t in the rooms, which worried Catalina. She was already in her nightclothes, a short satin nightgown with a matching robe. She brought this on the trip with her hoping she could get somewhere with Jungkook, but messing everything up and making him avoid her was not in the plans. She needed to fix this.

               Jimin was laying in bed with a facemask on, Taehyung by his side. Their heads were together, watching Tiktoks on Jimin’s phone.

               “Do you guys know where Jungkook is?” asked Catalina.

               “He’s in the hot tub,” said Jimin. “He doesn’t want to see you though.”

               Catalina gaped at him. “Did he say that?”

               “No, but whatever you said earlier really hurt him, so, as his friend, I’m telling you he doesn’t want to see you,” Jimin said, not looking up from his phone. Catalina’s heart sank. Hurting Jungkook was the last thing she wanted to do. So, she ran from the room and began her hunt for the hot tub.

               It was an in-ground tub, partially hidden within the landscaping. The only reason Catalina spotted it was because of the steam rising from behind the snow-covered boulders. Catalina pushed open the glass sliding door and stepped outside onto the patio.

               He was sitting in the hot tub alone, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He didn’t hear her coming, so when Catalina said, “Hey”, he startled.

               “Hey,” he said back.

               “Can we talk?” Catalina asked. He shrugged and looked away.

               “I guess.”

               Catalina sighed and sat on the edge of the tub, sticking her feet into the warm water.

               “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” she said. “I was lying.”

               “What do you mean?” he asked.

               “I mean, I don’t want things to go back to the way they were,” said Catalina. She took a deep breath. “I was lying when I said the kiss wasn’t a big deal. It was. I couldn’t stop thinking about it ever since it happened and spent the entire time since then, even now, hoping it would happen again. And I guess I said the things I said because I didn’t think you’d feel the same way, so I wanted to just smooth things out with you-“

               “Cat, I’m the one who kissed you,” said Jungkook.

               “But it was for the mission,” said Catalina.

               “But I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to,” said Jungkook. A pause, then he cracked a tiny smile. “I bought you hash browns. Did that mean nothing to you?”

               Catalina laughed and tugged her robe tighter around herself.

               “Get over here,” said Jungkook. Catalina took her robe off and slid into the water, not caring for the fate of her nightgown anymore. She waded over to him and he held out a hand, pulling her close. She had to place her knees on either side of his thighs as his arms wound around her waist.

               “Can I kiss you?” he asked. “For real this time?”

               Catalina didn’t think she could speak, so she nodded. He pulled her flush against him and kissed her hard. She was incredibly aware of how bare his chest was; she could feel every inch of it through her paper-thin nightgown. Catalina threaded her fingers into his hair as they kissed. She gave it a tug and he let out a tiny gasp into her mouth. His hands gripped her waist tighter as he tilted his head for better access. At some point, they broke apart for air, Catalina chasing his lips for one last taste.

               “Mm…so glad I didn’t listen to Jimin,” Catalina mumbled against his lips. He chuckled.

               “What?”

               “He was mad at me for making you upset and told me not to talk to you,” said Catalina.

               “Well, I’m glad you didn’t listen to him too,” Jungkook said with a grin.

               “I’m sorry,” said Catalina, running her fingers through his hair. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

               He held her tighter and said, “I know. It’s okay. It turned out fantastic, so I have no complaints.”

               Catalina giggled and let her head fall against his shoulder.

               “Yeah… no complaints at all,” she said, dropping a kiss to his neck.

[jade4813]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves, Chapter 4

Fandom: Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist

Title: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Rating: PG (I’m assuming it’ll stay there?)

Pairing: Zoey/Max

Synopsis: Max would do anything for Zoey. Including posing as her fake boyfriend to give her father one last “big moment” to celebrate with her. Nothing could possibly go wrong. After all, it’s only his heart that stands to be broken. Right?

Chapter: 4/?

Author’s Notes: Takes place after Zoey’s Extraordinary Glitch.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“So, you want to go on a date tonight?” Max asked, wheeling his chair around the edge of her desk, his tablet balanced on his lap. He saw her shoot a quick glance towards Joan’s office and resisted the urge to follow her gaze. Joan had taken the news of their “relationship” in stride – though, given her current romantic situation, she couldn’t exactly do otherwise. However, she had exercised enough oversight to order that Max report directly to her for the foreseeable future, heading off any accusations of preferential treatment. Still, if they were going to sell the fiction of their relationship, Zoey and Max had agreed they needed to act like a couple, even at work. And that meant being seen going on dates.

And – if Max was very lucky – maybe even flirting in the hallways. But he was getting ahead of himself.

“Ah, sure,” she agreed. “That’d be great.” When she offered him a small smile, he returned the gesture and wheeled back around to his desk. Their first official fake-date. He couldn’t wait.

As it turned out, however, fate had other plans. With Tobin and Leif tackled the next phase for Chirp, it was up to Zoey and Max to troubleshoot the newest problem with the SPRQ Watch. A little after four, Joan called them into her office to notify them that the watch had developed its newest glitch: it was swapping heartrate and step counter data, leading to wildly inaccurate (and somewhat alarming) readouts for both. When she declared they weren’t to go home until it was fixed, Max inwardly groaned. So much for their date. Their fake-date, he corrected himself quickly.

But later that night, hunched over his computer with only Zoey for company, he decided the situation could have been worse. At least he got to be with her.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” she called out to him, leaning back in her chair to stretch.

Max was a little taken aback by her offer, and he replied, “It’s all right. I’m happy to help.”

She threw him a slight grimace. “Max, please. It’s silly to ruin your whole night. I can take care of this; I think I’m pretty close to identifying the problem. It seems silly for us both to stick around.”

Although he wanted to argue, he changed his mind when he got an idea. “If you’re sure?” he asked, standing and reaching for his jacket.

Zoey looked a little surprised. “Of course I’m sure! Go on! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

But she wouldn’t have to wait that long. When he returned to the office twenty minutes later, she was sitting quietly at her desk, staring morosely at lines of code. “Max? What are you doing here? I thought you went home.”

He held up one of the two bags he was holding, and he saw the exact minute the smell of the food it carried made its way to her desk because her eyes went wide and she straightened in her chair. “You really thought I’d abandon you here by yourself? I thought you knew me better than that,” he chided her gently. “I went for a food run. I figured if we couldn’t go out for our date – our fake-date – then I’d bring our fake-date back here to us.”

“That’s…very thoughtful of you,” she remarked, though she hesitated and threw one last look at her computer screen.

He knew what she was thinking. “Give me five minutes while I set up in the conference room, but then you really need to take a break to eat. The glitch will still be there after dinner, but you won’t be if you pass out from hunger. Plus, brains work better with food.”

“I had food!” she protested, her voice following him to the conference room. “I got some chips from the vending machine earlier!”

“Cheetos are not food,” he called back over his shoulder, sliding the door shut behind him with his foot. Glancing at her desk one more time to make sure she hadn’t followed, he hurried to set the scene.

It took Zoey more like six minutes to find a stopping point in the code she was reviewing and make her way to the conference room, and when she did, he smiled at her gasp of surprise. “What is all this?” she asked.

He held her chair for her as she lowered herself slowly into her seat, looking at the meal he’d spread out before her. “Deli sandwiches from that place you like down the street. They were out of all the good sides, so I’m afraid I was stuck with kale chips.” He paused, considering, before acknowledging, “Which I’m not entirely sure are an actual food. But if we get desperate, I’m sure the vending machine still has some Doritos I can scavenge. I figured you were probably sick of coffee by now, so I got you a cup of hot tea with a little honey instead.” Just the way she liked it.

She nodded absently, as though she was still trying to take it all in. When he saw her finger the edge of the Happy Birthday tablecloth in amazement as he joined on the other side of the table, he threw her a wry look. “Okay, so the convenience store a couple blocks away was pretty low on options. But a first date requires a certain amount of panache. Even a fake one. And this was the best I could do under the circumstances.”

“It’s…amazing. No, really. It’s perfect,” she rushed to reassure him. “But are those really a good idea?” she asked, nodding at the cluster of birthday candles he’d stuck into two cupcakes – makeshift candelabra – in the middle of the table. Darting a cautious look towards the ceiling, she looked around for a sprinkler system.

“Oh, right,” he agreed quickly. He’d been so swept away by the idea for this impromptu date, that thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Maybe we should blow those out. Getting soaked would probably put a damper on the ambiance.”

Zoey picked up one of the muffins and handed him the other. Before blowing it out, however, she suggested, “What do you think? Should we make a wish?”

One corner of his mouth quirked upward. He already had everything he wanted. Well…almost. “Why not? I guess it is tradition.” He watched as she closed her eyes, pondering her own wish. In the faint light of the candles as they cast a soft glow around her face, Max thought she had never been more beautiful. Then she pursed her lips and exhaled quickly, extinguishing the flame.

When she opened her eyes again and saw his candles were still lit, she threw him a puzzled frown. “You didn’t make a wish?”

“I was waiting for you to go first,” he answered. It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t entirely the truth. He’d been too captivated by her to even remember he was holding candles of his own. “I didn’t want to take the chance that we’d confuse any potential wish-granting fairy if we both went at the same time.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to reward his bad joke with a smile, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t have to ponder his wish. It was the only thing in the world that he really wanted. I wish… a voice in his mind whispered softly as he prepared to blow out the candles. I wish…

As they cleaned up after their meal, Zoey remarked, “There’s something I should probably tell you. I actually…well, I was afraid this would be weird. Going on a date with you. A fake date. Going on a fake date with you.”

He threw her a bland look. “Our first romantic fake-date is basically an impromptu birthday party that is somehow set nowhere close to either of our birthdays. That’s not weird?”

He answering bubble of laughter washed over him, sending shivers down his spine. “Okay, weirder,” she acknowledged. “This is actually…very sweet. I just thought, you know…we’ve been friends for a long time. I figured it would be awkward to transition that into a romantic relationship. Even a fake one. Didn’t you?”

Picking up a stray kale chip – which he was still convinced wasn’t real food – he popped it in his mouth as he shrugged. “Not really. I always figured the best relationships start with friendship. If the person you love is also your favorite person in the world, why would it be weird?” Not wanting to spoil the mood by reminding Zoey of the lingering shadow of his own feelings, he focused his attention on his empty chip bag, crumpling it into a tiny ball as he and joked, “I always thought it would be like hanging out with your best friend, only, you know, with more kissing.”

“Are we going to be doing that?” she asked softly, her words freezing him in his place. His arm had been lifted to toss his garbage towards the trash can, but he lowered it slowly to the table as he considered her question. “Kissing, I mean,” she clarified, though it was hardly necessary.

Max sighed, pulling his attention away from the mess as he met her eyes across the table. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t bring it up if it weren’t important,” she reassured him, skirting the edge of the table to stand by his died. “But when we were at dinner with David and Emily the other night, she started asking me questions when we were in the kitchen cleaning up.”

“Questions? What kind of questions?” he asked, surprised that she hadn’t mentioned it before.

She waved her hand in the air in a vague gesture. “Oh, I don’t know. Just…questions.” When he just stared at her, she huffed and admitted, “All right, so it kinda felt like a cross-examination, but she’s an attorney. You know how they are. I guess she thought we were acting a little weird.”

He frowned. “Weird how? You think she suspected the truth?”

Zoey looked down, her hands fiddling idly with a discarded napkin. “I don’t know. Maybe not that so much as…um…well, that our relationship may not be…going…well. I tried to explain that we just hadn’t been dating for very long so we were still in the awkward phase of our relationship, but I don’t know how long she’ll buy that.”

With a heavy sigh, Max ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. “Wow. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, I guess. And, anyway, I thought it probably wouldn’t matter because we would, um, get used to…everything before we saw them again. I’m not trying to push you or anything, if you don’t want to kiss me –”

“That’s not the problem,” he interjected, shaking his head. “The problem is that I do want to kiss you. And that makes this…complicated.”

“But does it have to be?” she asked in a small, pleading voice. “We don’t have to overcomplicate this. We can just think about it like…like shaking hands. But with our mouths.” She gestured vaguely at her lips, which didn't help his ongoing battle to not stare longingly at them, imagining what they would feel like to kiss.

“So, basically, it’s nothing like shaking hands,” he pointed out in a dry tone.

Her tone was apologetic as she explained, “Like I said, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

She had a point, and he knew it. But that didn’t make this any easier. “I…I’m trying, Zoey. Can you give me just a little more time?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” The silence that fell between them was uncomfortable, filled with all the things they weren’t ready to address between them. Finally, she took a step back and said, “Anyway, I should probably get back to work.”

He nodded, gesturing at the table. “Go ahead. I’ll come help you when I’m done cleaning up.” He leaned over to collect the rest of the trash, but when she disappeared around the corner, he straightened with a sigh.

He should have realized Emily wasn’t going to be easily fooled. She was a very sweet person, when you got to know her, but she wasn’t the most trusting soul on the planet. She was also very protective of the people she cared about. If anyone was going to greet their story with skepticism, it would be her.

Max grimaced as he tossed out the rest of their trash. He knew he needed to get past this. He just didn’t know how. How could he kiss her and not want it to be real?

Because it was for Mitch. Because the whole reason they were in a pretend relationship was to make him happy in his final days. If he wasn’t going to commit wholeheartedly to their charade, what was the point? It had been unfair of him to offer to be Zoey’s pretend boyfriend if he wasn’t willing to follow through.

Or was that just an excuse? He ignored the question.

“Zoey, wait!” Max called out, following her out into the main office area.

“Yes?” she asked, turning around. She was standing by the hanging wicker chairs, where she’d sung her heart song to him not long before, but he tried not to think about that.

He stopped a couple of feet away from her, feeling inexplicably awkward and unsure. “You’re right. There’s no point in doing any of this if I’m not willing to do what it takes to sell it.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”

Max bridged the distance between them. “I’m sure. If it’ll make Mitch happy, it’s worth it, right?” She nodded slowly. “But I think…it’ll probably be a little weird. Our first kiss, I mean. Maybe we should – ah – get it out of the way now. So that we seem more comfortable with each other when we’re in front of your family.”

Zoey blinked in surprise and took a half step back? “Really? I don’t know if that’s necessary –” she protested weakly.

“You think we should have our first kiss in front of Emily? That’s like putting chum in the water. There’s no way she wouldn’t pick up on it!”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “I see your point. Okay. If you’re – if you’re sure.”

Moving slowly, as if a sudden movement would scare her away, he reached up and cupped her face in his hands. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

She did as he asked, then opened one eye and gave him a mildly suspicious look. “Why?”

Max grinned. Did she think he was going to prank her or something? “Because the first fake-kiss in a fake-relationship is very serious business. If you’re staring at me, I’ll get nervous and blow it, and then you’ll think I have terrible fake-kissing skills and fake-breakup with me,” he teased.

Biting back a smile, she closed her eyes again. Taking a moment to steady his breathing, he brushed his thumbs lightly across the high ridge of her cheekbones, down the soft skin of her cheeks, and along the curve of her jaw. He could do this. None of it was real. He just needed to remember that.

Leaning down, he hesitated when his mouth was inches from hers. The feel of her breath against his lips made him shudder with longing. It’s fake. None of this is real. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s all fake.

“Max?” she breathed, her voice soft and uncertain.

Before he could second-guess himself, he closed the distance between their mouths. It’s not real. He felt her lips part on a tiny gasp and moaned, one hand sweeping down her waist to her side as the other caressed the nape of her neck, toying with the soft curl of hair that wrapped around his fingers. It’s not real.

Her hands hovered above his chest, but when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in, she fisted her hands in his shirt and clung to him. He felt her murmur something against his mouth and hesitated, but her hands swept up his chest to his shoulders. It’s not real, he reminded himself. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, sweeping her tongue against his lower lip in a silent invitation.

It was enough to shatter his self-control. Crushing her against him, Max lifted her off her feet as his lips parted and he poured all of the love he’d struggled to hide from her for years into his kiss. Zoey…oh, god. Zoey. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, scraping it softly with his teeth. He couldn’t count the number of nights he’d spent thinking about her, fantasizing about her kiss. But even in his dreams had never captured the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath.

She tasted like honey.

Zoey made a soft sound as he turned with her in his arms, and he smiled against her mouth. “God, Zoey, I –” he began. I love you. He caught himself before he could say the words that would reveal him. The words she didn’t want to hear. The reminder was like a splash of cold water, pulling Max out of his romantic haze.

It’s wasn’t real, he reminded himself.

But it felt real.

Embarrassed that he’d allowed himself to get carried away – and ashamed that he’d allowed himself to forget it was all an act, if only for a moment – he rushed to put her back on her feet and step away. His body nearly betrayed him, his hands reaching to hold her again, and so he shoved them into his back pockets and retreated another step.

Should he apologize? She had lifted her hand to her mouth, her fingers pressing against her lips as she stared at him with wide eyes. Unable to meet her eyes, he looked down, absently smoothing the wrinkles in his shirt caused by her hands. As he often did when he wasn’t sure what to say, he resorted to humor. “So, uh, that should do the trick, don’t you think? I can’t imagine even Emily would be suspicious after that.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she agreed softly.

He ran a hand through his hair, which he realized only belatedly had been mussed by her hands. “I should – should we get back to work, or -?”

“No! That’s okay!” she blurted, confirming his worst fears. He had crossed the line – if not with his actions, than with the way they betrayed his emotions, reminding her of feelings she didn’t want to face. “I’m almost done here, anyway. You can head out.”

His stomach sank. While he normally would have insisted he remain to help, he needed some distance from her. Not to mention time to get his head on straight. “Okay. Yeah. Right,” he mumbled. His hands still ached to hold her, and he didn’t trust himself not to give in to the urge, so he shoved them into his pockets as he turned to go.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t.

At least…it hadn’t been for her. The problem was, it had been for him. So what was he going to do now?

[tastingmellow]

Like That

A/N: This was actually a headcanon request from @thickemadame and I loved it so much that instead of doing a headcanon I wanted to do a fic. I’m not done answering headcanons I just wanted this idea written. Excuse my spelling mistakes, please.

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader

Summary: Erik ain’t got the juice like that.

Warnings: Language. Reader is a black, plus size Q U E E N

Word Count: It’s been a while...but ain’t shit changed

You know those movies where the plus size main character isn’t confident, tries to hide under baggy clothing, has nobody chasing after them? Yeah...inaccurate representation of you. Being plus size is a struggle in itself and that’s without the improper representation. People like Queen Lahtifa and Monique were the ACTUAL representation of you.

You had style, confidence, and an amazing mind as well as the looks to make anyone stop and stare. What’s there to be insecure about? And that question is exactly what attracted Erik to you. He had seen you in a coffee shop, dressed to impress, shades at the top of your head and scrolling through your phone.

You weren’t trying to hide, your back was straight and you were just something he had rarely seen before. When he approached you and you gave home that dazzling white smile he was hooked. He rearranged his entire life to put you at the center of it, you weren’t complaining though.

Everything was going great, Erik was so caring and sweet, he showered you in love and gifts no matter how many times you told him not to buy you anything, and he was just the epitome of what you wanted in a man. He was strong, determined, bossy, hard as fuck, and not to mention pro-black.

However, there were moments that made you think Erik just knew he had his position on lock down. Like when you were out and he entertained random females who were flirting with him. Or when he’d flex purposely to show off. He never took it further than that but it ticked you off because APPRENTLY this broad ass nigga really thinks his position can’t be filled with another.

You let it go though, thinking everything was cool and smooth between you two until while you were looking for someone’s number in his phone (he knew you had it) a “Jass 🍑” popped in his notifications. You tilted your head and before your brain could register what you were doing you clicked on the message.

In their thread, clear as day was a picture of this woman’s pussy on full display with a message underneath that read “she misses you.” You tilted your head, sucking in your cheeks before scrolling up and seeing all of which he had gotten himself into.

“Huh...” your facial expression was blank as you calmly walked into the kitchen where Erik was munching on a sandwich. Hearing your footsteps, he looked up, a smile on his face as he chewed his food. “You find the number?”

You shook your head and smiled softly while making your way over to him. You hopped on the counter and sat beside him. “Nah, you didn’t have it. However, I did find something else.”

You dropped his phone in front of him, the screen showing Erik’s messages with his side chick. You swung your legs as you smiled at him. “Who’s Jess, E?”

Erik gulped down some juice before picking up his phone. His expression was blank as he stared at the woman’s vagina displayed on the screen. His heartbeat sped up as he looked up at you, seeing the seemingly unbothered smile on your face. “Princess—“

He was cut off by your hand in his face, shaking your head. “Nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked because you were just gonna make up an excuse. I need you to go into the bedroom and get all the shit you left over here. Thanks.”

You patted his back and began to walk away. “Get my shit? Y/N, seriously? It’s your fault for going through my phone anyway. You shouldn’t have been so damn nosey.” You continued to walk, shrugging your shoulders. “Maybe I was, you still need to get out.”

Erik lightly bit his lip as he saw you plop down on the couch. “Y/N...”

“Get out, Erik.”

—————

The next week for Erik was rough. He expected you to blow up, cry, even hit him when he realized you knew but your calmness scared the shit out of him. He had cut off Jess, telling her she isn’t what he was looking for. He felt a bit better but still felt like ass knowing he fucked up.

He saw a few of your posts on Instagram, a few of them posted days after you kicked him out and you were glowing. That made him hurt worse and that is currently why he’s standing at your doorstep, knocking at your door.

“One moment!” He heard your voice yell and his heart skipped a beat. He held the roses in his hands a bit tighter as he heard the lock turn and saw the doorknob twist. His smile fell upon seeing another man opening the door. He was light skin, had a fade and beard that connected.

“What’s up, potna?” The man spoke and that’s when Erik noticed he was shirtless and in a pair of basketball shorts with socks and slides on. “Who the fuck are you, nigga?” Erik spoke up just as you poked your head around your friend’s shoulder.

“D, you mind sitting in the parlor while I talk to Erik?” You asked sweetly and Damion smiles at you and kisses your cheek before walking off. You stood at the door in a leggings and a cami, a silk robe draped over your shoulders with your hair pulled into a bun on top of your head.

Erik stares for a moment before coming out of his trance while you snapped in his face. “Stop staring, it’s rude.” You stepped outside, shutting the door behind you and crossed your arms. You eyes the flowers in his hand. “Those for me?”

Erik looked down and cleared his throat before handing them to you. “Yeah, yeah. Listen, Y/N...I’m sorry. I know I destroyed your trust. I don’t even know why I cheated, maybe because I thought you’d let me off. There was really no reason to cheat, you’re everything a nigga wanted and more. I fucked up. I’m sorry, mamas. I hope you can forgive me.”

You stared at him for a moment before nodding. You reached into your bra and pulled out your phone. You unlocked it and opened your Instagram before going to your DMs. You handed him your phone and stood there. “Don’t open the messages but just scroll through and see how many I have. From random ass niggas who would have loved to be in your position.”

You looked at Erik as he scrolled through, his eyebrows knitting together as he saw the messages. Some of them were the typical “Go to bed.” Messages, others were simple greetings and some of them were the weirdest, most disrespectful shit he had ever seen.

You grabbed your phone from his hand and went to your actual messages, scrolling down a bit so he could read the “I miss you” texts from numbers that were no longer saved. When you showed them to him his heart clenched a little. This was the first time he realized that having you and keeping you really was privilege. You could’ve entertained all those niggas but you didn’t. His fucking ego had him thinking he had you on lockdown.

“And Damion? He’s one of the few that didn’t want me how every other nigga wanted me, but just wants a friend.” You handed Erik his flowers back and placed your hands on your hips. “Listen, E. I really fuck with you, I do. But you fucked that up with your big ass ego. You can either understand that as a big girl I don’t have to be meek and treated any sort of way...or you can dip.”

Erik stares at you and nodded. “I know, I know. I understand that. I’ll make it up to you. I swear.” Erik grinned as a small smile appeared on your face. “Alright then, Erik. I forgive you.” Erik leaned in to kiss you but was stopped by your hand mushing his face back.

He stepped back confused. “What?” You laughed loudly, leaning your head back. “You thought you were back in that easily?! HA, nah, baby. You better work for this the exact same way you did the first time.”

You twisted your doorknob and walked into your house before turning around and giving him a wide smile. “Have a nice night, Stevens.” You blew him a kiss before shutting the door and locking it.

Erik stood there, stunned and confused. He looked around, then down finally registering that you rejected his flowers. His shocked expression turned into a grin as he slowly backed off your porch. “I still got a chance...” he rushed to his car and got in, pulling out of your driveway and speeding off down the road, thanking God he still had a shot.

—————

A/N: Did ya like it? I loved it, hope you did too! Share and comment! Send in requests and headcanons!

Erik/Trevante Taglist:

@destinio1 @ljstraightnochaser @chaneajoyyy @raysunshine78 @shookmcgookqueen @tip222u @bakarilennox @here-for-your-bullshit @asweet-serendipity @l-auteuse @thickemadame @missshae @toniilaney @simscrazyfangirl @blackpinup22 @bitchacho25 @furiousduckpeach @shegoego @eye-raq @goddessofthundathighs @doublesidedscoobysnacks @soufcakmistress @ladye103 @artsninspo @chasingsunlight22

Permanent Taglist:

@ladye103 @chaneajoyyy

[argylemnwrites]

I Shouldn’t Care (But I Still Do)

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (The Royal Heir 2, between Chapter 3 and 4)

Word Count: ~1200

Rating:  R (adult language)

Summary: Drake struggles with some media coverage surrounding his daughter’s presentation.

Author’s Note: This marks the last of my Fluffy Friday drabbles, even though I clearly struggle with keeping these things consistently fluffy. I’m sorry, but this concept has been in my brain for a long time, and I just needed to explore it. I know PB has committed to the “modern fairy tale” tone, but there is just so many other aspects that come to mind if you apply even a hint of realism. The fact that Liam named another couple’s child heir to the throne would have ramifications with media and public speculation and discussion. It doesn’t help that in my playthrough, I selected the East Asian MC and the East Asian Liam, meaning that Drake and Riley’s daughter in my canon looks like she could be Liam’s. I just think that it’s naive to think that no one would wonder.

So, after that little ramble, this is my pick for the last (semi-)Fluffy Friday fic, 18. Hugs on the Domestic Fluff prompt list. I hope everyone had a wonderful Valentine’s Day.

Drake wasn’t sure if he should even be reading these stories. Part of him justified it by telling himself he needed to know what the press was saying about him. About her. About their family. It would be worse to be blindsided by some horrible speculation on the upcoming tour during a press conference or have Madeleine or Olivia reveal it in some snide comment.

On the other hand, he didn’t want to give the bullshit they published any attention. Because it was just that - complete and utter bullshit. They just wanted to sell a story. They didn’t know anything about him and Riley and Bridget. Nothing real anyway. But during her pregnancy, Drake had fallen into the habit of reading the stories that were published. Most of them had focused on Riley at that point and had usually been pretty positive, although there were the ones that had a lot of thoughts about what she was eating or drinking or how active she was or wasn’t being.

There had been ones that seemed to have a lot of opinions about their relationship. Those had been harder to stomach. The ones that called him a leech, a chronic coattail rider, that sort of thing, well those hadn’t been too bad. It was nothing he hadn’t heard for years. He was used to it. But the ones that speculated that Riley regretted marrying him, that the baby was likely Liam’s… well those had stung. They’d poked at those deep-seated insecurities, the ones that still reared their ugly head from time to time. Still, he’d usually managed to shrug them off, ignore them as the tabloid trash they were. It had helped that Riley had been pissed as hell about all of them. Listening to her profanity-filled rants about how insulting, how stupid, how disgusting they all were reminded him time and time again how much he loved her.

Now that Bridget was here and had been presented to the people, the articles were back in full force. Some, like the ones from Trend or the CBC were upbeat and optimistic. But the one he was reading now was… well, it wasn’t negative or anything. But it was hitting Drake unexpectedly hard.

Maybe it was the photo that sat on the top of the website, Riley holding Bridget and Liam standing right behind her, both of them smiling. Drake knew he had been right off to Riley’s other side. But he’d been cropped out of this photo. He was in the wide group shot further down in the article, along with Hana and Maxwell. And there was another one that showed him, Riley, Liam, and Bridget on the dais. But even there, they’d selected a shot where Liam had been leaning forward to say something to the press, making him appear very close to Riley, while Drake’s head was turned to the side.

He felt stupid fixating on this. He didn’t even want to be featured in an article like this at all. He’d be happy to never speak to the press again. But somehow seeing Bridget, Riley, and Liam, looking like… a cozy little family or some shit while he was shoved off to the side like some awkward godfather… well, it hurt. There was no other way to put it.

Reading the actual content of the article did nothing to make Drake feel any better. He was mentioned twice. Two fucking times. Meanwhile, Liam was quoted four times and mentioned an additional dozen times. 

Drake got it. Liam was king. He was nowhere near that important. Being a less important figure than Liam was not a change for him. But he’d never considered that people would consider him a less important figure in his own daughter’s life.

He knew he was being dramatic about this. This article meant nothing. But he couldn’t bring himself to set down the tablet, to turn it off and ignore the implications. So he just kept reading and staring at the photos, sinking into a spiral of self pity.

“She’s finally asleep.” Drake jerked his head up, surprised to find that Riley had joined him in their private den. He had been so caught up in the article, he hadn’t heard the door open at all.

“I thought she was never going to stop feeding,” Riley continued, sitting down next to him on the couch, tucking her legs up under her. “Watcha looking at?” she asked, pointing to the tablet in Drake’s hand.

“S’nothing, Walker,” Drake mumbled. She had enough to deal with, what with nursing and her own hormones and all that. She didn’t need to soothe his stupid insecurities, too. But he knew he hadn’t kept his tone light enough. Sure enough, her hand was grabbing his arm almost instantly.

“Drake, what’s wrong?”

He just shook his head, “It really is nothing. I’m just…” but he trailed off, feeling so dejected. He didn’t know what else to say.

Riley grabbed the tablet out of his hand, her eyes roving of the screen as she scanned through the article. Her jaw clenched several times, and when she reached the end of the page, she turned to look at Drake, a fire burning in her eyes. “Well, this is fucking bullshit. How can they publish shit like this?”

Drake shrugged, “There’s nothing technically inaccurate in there.”

She shook her head, “Well, it’s still bullshit. How can they try to erase you from the story like that?”

“I don’t think it’s that malicious. I think I just don’t matter.”

Riley opened her mouth as if to argue his point, but after a second, she just wrapped her arms around him, tugging him close and wrapping him in a warm, reassuring hug. Drake felt a little embarrassed, needing to be comforted like a child over a stupid article. But he couldn’t lie, it felt fucking good. So he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight, tucking his head into the crook of her neck.

“I guess it doesn’t matter why they did it,” Riley muttered into his hair, “It’s shitty no matter why it happened. I’m so sorry, Drake.”

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbled into the skin of her neck, “And I know I’m being overly sensitive about this.”

He felt Riley shaking her head, and then her fingers were under his chin, tipping his head back so she could look in his eyes.

“I would feel like shit if the situation was reversed, Drake. You’re her father. It’s fucking infuriating that they are implying anything different. You’re allowed to be upset by this.”

“I know I should ignore it, I know it, but seeing you and him and she just looks like-”

But Riley put her finger over his lips, cutting him off, “She’s our kid. Mine and yours. And everyday I see more of both of us in her.”

With that, she wrapped her arms back around him, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. Drake closed his eyes, trying to focus on what mattered. Him and her. Their daughter. The rest was just noise. And right now, wrapped up in each other’s arms, he could appreciate this moment of peace and calm.

Permatag: @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal  @lilyofchoices  @thequeenofcronuts  @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019   @sirbeepsalot  @texaskitten30   @princessleac1  @ladyangel70  @dcbbw  @yaushie @octobereighth

Drake x MC only:  @jovialyouthmusic  @iplaydrake  @gibbles82  @drakewalkerisreal  @riley--walker  @notoriouscs  @butindeed  @addictedtodrakefanfic​  

[mercurysnitch]

Living In The 70s

Summary: Tallulah finds herself in a decade she’s never visited before. It’s a significant visit for Roger too.

A/N: Yes, the Tallulah oneshot is finally here. My christmas present to you all. Probably no one’s gonna read it cos it’s Christmas, but whatever, it’s done now so here you go. I was planning to have a new Ben x reader oneshot up for Christmas but as usual it’s not finished yet. Maybe it’ll be my New Years post. And I have no idea when Mother Mercury part 3 will appear, it’s taking me longer than I was expecting (as usual). I am working on it though.

Anyway, some background to this oneshot: I mentioned this incident in the “epilogue” of Though You’re Many Years Away (at the end of Part 6) without thinking much of it, but then I was inspired to write it. So this is 12-year-old Tallulah seeing Roger in 1978 (aka the beginning of the short hair era). I’m not convinced she actually sounds like a 12-year-old here (it’s been a long time since I was that age, alright?) but hey, I tried. At this point she would have been living in NYC for a few years but I imagine her still speaking with her natural British (London) accent when she’s around Roger. I think I mentioned this somewhere in TYMYA but just to be clear: Roger essentially loses his memories of Tallulah (and Y/N) after she goes back to her present - not straight away, but by the time he wakes up the next morning they’ll all be gone. So he’s never told anyone about Tallulah, because he never remembers her for long enough. Present Roger has gotten most of his memories back though. As always, don’t worry about how the time travel works, it’s a mystery.

This has only been lightly edited, so sorry if I’ve missed any typos. It took me a long time to work out the ending, but I think it all flows ok. But anyway, I decided I might as well put this out and stop agonising over it, so here you are.

Title is from the Skyhooks song. (If you’re not familiar, Skyhooks were about the closest thing Australia had to a home-grown glam rock band back in the early 70s. Incidentally, they played the Sunbury Festival in 1974... alongside Queen, whose set allegedly did not go well, though it might have just been the roadies causing trouble rather than the audience) The story has nothing to do with the song lyrics, I just thought it was a catchy title.

Warnings: Light swearing, inaccurate twelve-year-old, weird tone shifts. 

*******************************************************************************************

Tallulah's phone buzzed. The screen showed a single word: Dad. Weird, she thought, he wouldn't normally ring this early. She answered the call with an attempt at a cheery "Morning, Dad." "Afternoon, Loolie" Roger replied automatically. "How are you, love?" "Awake" Tallulah grumbled. "I'm sorry to wake you so early, sweetheart," her father told her, "but I needed to talk to you. Your mum told me you travelled again yesterday, but she said this time was… different?" "It was" Tallulah agreed, annoyed that her mother had immediately told her father what had happened. "How was it different?" Roger asked. "I went to the 70s" his daughter responded. "What year?" he probed. "1978. You don't remember?" Tallulah replied incredulously. "Strangely enough, no" Roger explained. Suddenly he realised what his daughter's question was implying. "Did something… memorable happen in 1978?" he asked gently. "I think… I think it was the first time you'd ever seen me travel" Tallulah said quietly. "Well, you'd think I'd remember that" Roger commented. "So, tell me what happened." "Well, I left from my bed…" Tallulah began.

Tallulah found herself on a chair in an unfamiliar room. She groaned as she took in her surroundings. When her head cleared, she realised she was in a dressing room of some kind. Must be backstage somewhere. Ooh, I wonder if it's Live Aid? I'd love to go there one day. She stood up gingerly, trying to decide whether it would be safe to leave the room. She was still looking around, trying to work out roughly when she'd ended up, when the door suddenly opened, and her father's voice flowed into the room. "I'm sure it's in here Fred, just give me a minute, alright?" Roger called over his shoulder, not paying attention to the room in front of him. He looks young. Very young. The door was almost fully closed before he noticed the blonde girl standing next to the vanity desk.

"What the fuck? Who the hell are y-wait, how old are you? What are you doing in here?" he asked, angry and very confused. "Dad?" Tallulah breathed, still trying to guess how old he was. Roger hastily pushed the door all the way shut. "Alright, what's going on?" he asked crossly. "Dad, don't you remember?" Tallulah pleaded, suddenly very scared.  Does he not know who I am? Is this the first time for him? "Remember wh-?" Roger started to question her again, but stopped abruptly as a flood of memories suddenly came rushing back. "Tallulah?” He breathed. “Are you Tallulah?" She nodded, still near tears. "But… but…you're only three… how?" he asked, struggling to process the revelation. "Actually, right now, I'm twelve. I'm time travelling from the future" Tallulah explained, matter-of-factly. Then Roger’s shocked comment registered properly. "Wait a minute, did you say I'm three? What year is this?" He was still travelling when I was three. "It's 1978, love" Roger said gently. 1978. 78. I'm in the seventies. Holy shitballs. "You alright?" he asked softly, seeing the shock on his daughter's face. "Yeah, it's just that… this is the first time you've seen me travel, isn't it?" she asked. "This isn't the first time for you?" he replied. "God no," Tallulah laughed, "I've been travelling since I was little." More than half my life, actually.

Suddenly the blood drained from her face. Shit. I shouldn't have said that. I can't tell him about his future, it's the rules. Crap. Despite the massive revelations he was grappling with, Roger couldn't help noticing the abrupt change in his daughter's expression. "Are you ok, love?" he asked gently. "You look scared. Why are you- hang on." He stopped abruptly as the implications of Tallulah's statement finally registered. "If this isn't the first time for you, but it is for me, that means… I'm going to see you again, aren't I?" "Yes" Tallulah nodded. "When?" Roger asked simply. "I can't tell you Dad, I'm sorry. It's against the rules" she said sadly. "Rules?" he questioned. "Yeah, I'm not allowed to tell you about your future cause you might try and change it and, like, that would be bad" she explained. All Roger could say to that was a flabbergasted, "Oh. Right."

"So anyway," Tallulah said casually, "how long since you last saw me, Dad?" Roger thought for a moment. "Four months. I think it's been four months" he said eventually. "You know, I have that same conversation every time I see your mother" he commented suddenly, chuckling slightly. "We do that every time too" his daughter replied sadly. “Something to look forward to, then” Roger murmured, smiling wryly. "Yeah" Tallulah agreed. "So, Dad, is this the News of the World T-" She stopped abruptly at the unmistakable sound of Freddie Mercury's dulcet tones emanating from the other side of the door. Shit, he's gonna see me. Shit. Should I hide?

"Honestly, Roger, how long does it take to find a fucking…" Freddie called out as he swept into Roger's dressing room. His voice trailed off at the sight of two identical pairs of big blue eyes staring back at him. Oh shit. Freddie's seen me now. Shit. "Roger, who is this?" Freddie asked suspiciously. The drummer glanced at his daughter, who flashed him a quick, reassuring, smile. "Fred, this is my daughter, Tallulah" Roger explained calmly. His friend smiled. "I thought so.” “You what? How?” Roger spluttered. Freddie snorted. “Roger dear, if she looked any more like you she would be you.” Turning to Tallulah, he smiled kindly. “How old are you, dear?" he asked gently. "Twelve" she replied unthinkingly. Oh shit. Freddie's eyes widened. "You've been hiding this delightful child from me for the entire time we've known each other?" he accused Roger, looking scandalised. "No, Fred, it's not like that…" Roger attempted to soothe his friend. "Well then what is it like?" Freddie asked, unconvinced. The drummer glanced at Tallulah. "Just tell him the truth, Dad, he won't remember anything tomorrow" she assured him. Roger looked surprised. "He won't?" "Well you never did" she explained. "Oh. Right" He mused. "Roger, what on earth is going on?" Freddie cried, thoroughly confused. "It's… complicated" Roger explained.  

Roger took a moment to collect his thoughts while he locked the dressing room door to prevent further unwelcome interruptions. “Look Fred, no-one else knows about Tallulah here. No-one knows what I’m about to tell you either, and I’d like to keep it that way, alright?” Freddie nodded. He understood the need for secrecy in one’s personal life, possibly more than Roger knew. “Alright then. Now what I’m about to say is going to sound completely bonkers, but it really is the truth, I swear” Roger went on. “The fact is, Tallulah’s a time traveller. Like her mother. She’s actually visiting from-” “Her mother?” Freddie questioned, cutting off his friend. “Actually, who is her mother? Do I know her?” “As a matter of fact you do” Roger replied calmly. “Do you remember Y/N?” “Y/N…” Freddie mused. “Oh, the one who visited the studio when we were doing the third album? Seemed like she dropped off the face of the earth after that, what happened to her?” he asked pleasantly. “She went back to the future and had Tallulah” Roger deadpanned. Freddie’s eyes went wide. “She had- But Roger, that was only four years ago” he pointed out, shocked. “This darling child is much older than that.” Roger smiled calmly. “I know Fred, that’s what I’m telling you. Y/N was only visiting from the future back then, like Tallulah is now” he explained matter-of-factly. “But surely time travel isn’t real?” Freddie protested, though Roger could tell he was wavering on the brink of believing everything. “It’s real Fred” Roger said quietly. “I know it’s real because I’ve done it.” Freddie's eyes widened, but he seemed shocked beyond words. "You do believe me, don't you?" Roger asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Suddenly Freddie smiled. "You know I always believe you, dear" he reassured Roger, much to the latter's relief.

Freddie turned to Tallulah with a kind smile. "Are you staying for the show tonight?" he asked. "I'll try," she replied casually. "Good. You must come and watch from the wings, you'll get the best view" he told her. "Fred, no, someone could see her" Roger protested frantically. "No-one will notice her while we're on stage, darling" Freddie quipped, totally unconcerned. "What about the roadies though?" Roger countered. "They'll be busy" Freddie replied airily. "And if they're not?" Roger remained unconvinced. "Oh, just say she's your cousin or something, they won't care, dear" Freddie assured him. "My cousin?" Roger questioned. "Any idiot could see she's related to you, darling. The resemblance is frankly staggering." Roger sighed, defeated. "Fine. But if anything happens to her it's on your head." Freddie just smiled happily. "Alright then. I'd better get back, they'll be wondering what I'm up to. You'd better hurry back too, we've got a show in half an hour." Freddie bustled to the door. "Don't tell them about her. Please" Roger begged him as he reached it. Freddie turned back for a moment, smiling kindly. "It'll be our secret, dear" he assured his friend, sweeping out of the room.

"Wait, you met Freddie? Why don't I remember that?" Roger questioned, somewhat shocked at the lost memory. "I don't know, Dad" Tallulah sighed. "Maybe because you were still travelling yourself back then? Maybe whatever you remembered got wiped the next time you travelled or something…" she suggested, not really sure herself. "Yeah maybe. 'S weird though. Well, weirder than usual" Roger chuckled. “So anyway, did you stay for the concert?” “I did” Tallulah confirmed. “You weren’t that happy about it though…”

Roger stared grumpily at the door his friend had just passed through. “I can’t believe he’s talked me into this. Does he not care what could happen to you in the wings…” he trailed off, muttering darkly. “Dad, relax. I’ve been hanging out backstage at your concerts since I was little, I’ll be fine” Tallulah reassured him. Roger was shocked. “Really? Have people seen you before?” Tallulah thought for a moment. “A couple of the roadies have, but they think I’m your cousin.” For some reason this revelation seemed to calm Roger. “Well I suppose you’ll be ok then.” “Should be” Tallulah grinned. “I’ll try and stay out of sight though, then I won’t have explain anything.” This possibility pleased Roger. “Good. As soon as the show’s over I’ll take you back to the hotel. We can hang out there without anyone seeing us. Until then, stay out of trouble. Please.” Tallulah smiled reassuringly. “Of course.” Roger turned to leave. “One other thing” he added suddenly. “Make sure no-one sees you leave here. There’s a few reporters about and I don’t want to know what they might say if they spotted you coming out of my dressing room.” Tallulah barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes Dad” she sighed. Roger was incensed. “Don’t get smart with m-” Tallulah cut him off with a smile. “I’m not Dad, I just think it’s funny that you think this is my first time sneaking around your dressing rooms.” “It’s not?” Roger wasn’t sure if he was actually surprised or not at this point. “I told you, I’ve been running around at your concerts forever” Tallulah explained. “I know what I’m doing, don’t worry.” Roger grinned cheekily. “Alright then. I’ve got to go back in there now, but I’ll see you after the show.”

It was a good show that night. Freddie was in excellent form, and the crowd lapped it up. Fortunately Freddie was so transfixing on stage that no one noticed Roger looking a lot less worked up than usual. Roger himself was simply amazed his own child was watching him play. Tallulah enjoyed herself immensely, but then Queen concerts were always enjoyable. Watching from side of stage was a bit special though. As she’d expected, there was so much going on backstage that no one payed her much attention. Besides, special guests in the wings weren’t anything unusual at Queen concerts.

Freddie caught Tallulah's eye as the band came off stage, and she took that as her cue to scurry out of sight until they were safely in their shared cool down area. The stream of roadies, assistants and assorted visitors that followed the band took an almost unbearably long time to pass, but finally the coast was clear for Tallulah to dash into Roger's currently empty dressing room. As she shut the door she silently gave thanks for whatever force of the universe had sent the inevitable queue of pretty ladies to the band's shared space tonight instead of individual dressing room doors. Tallulah settled in to wait for her dad, assuming it would be a while before he could make his escape. She could hear snatches of conversation from the next room, and it sounded like they were getting ready for a party. Freddie declared the band "simply must celebrate tonight, dears" to general approval, though there were a few dissenters. Tallulah thought she recognised Brian's voice among those who were less than enthused. Good old Uncle Bri. He was never a party animal, even though he was a rock star. She didn't know many of the voices babbling away on the other side of the wall, but amongst the throng she could hear her dad grumbling about something she couldn't quite make out. She expected the conversation to continue for a long time, but within minutes there was a lull, quickly followed by the sound of footsteps at the dressing room door. Tallulah was attempting to press herself into a corner when the door opened to reveal Roger, back in street clothes and probably in need of a shower, but nonetheless glad to see his daughter. "Good, you're still here" he observed, smiling. "Did you like the show?" Tallulah beamed. "It was great, Dad! Freddie's amazing, and you sang so well, and…" Roger's face lit up at her praise, and he was so pleased he lost track of what she was saying as she babbled on enthusiastically. She was still smiling when she finally quieted. "Glad you enjoyed it" Roger commented, grinning. "Freddie's distracting everyone for a few minutes so we can get out of here" he explained. "I thought we could go back to the hotel, get room service, just hang out together." Tallulah smiled gently. "Whatever you want, Dad."

Half an hour later found Roger and Tallulah sprawled on the enormous bed in his hotel room, Roger now ensconced in a fluffy white bathrobe. "I have… really quite a lot of questions about this whole… situation" Roger mused. Tallulah smiled. “Ask me then.” “You said there were rules though” Roger pointed out. “There’s some things I’m not allowed to tell you” Tallulah explained. “Such as…?” “The future” Tallulah said simply. “I can’t tell you anything about your future.” “Why not?” At this point Roger was curious rather than annoyed. “Because you might try to change it, and accidentally change history and that could, like, destroy the world, or something” Tallulah explained. According to Mum, anyway.

Roger looked baffled until he remembered something and suddenly grinned. Tallulah was very confused. “What?” “I just remembered having almost this exact conversation with your mother once” Roger explained. “God this situation is weird.” “What’s weird?” Tallulah asked. Probably the time travel. I’m so used to it I always forget how weird it is to everyone else. “Well, the time travel’s quite odd, but I’m nearly used to that” Roger clarified. “But the last time I saw you, you were only three years old, and now it’s only been a few months but you’re nearly a teenager.” Tallulah nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s not really normal, is it?”

“Not even a little bit” Roger quipped. “But I s’pose it’s basically your normal these days.” “Well I don’t do it every day” Tallulah explained. “But I’ve been doing it for so long it’s just… another part of my life now.” Roger looked thoughtfully at his daughter. “It’s going to be my life, too, isn’t it?” he mused. “What is?” Tallulah asked, not quite following his thoughts. “You turning up randomly like this” he clarified. She smiled. “I guess it is” she agreed.

Roger welcomed this information with a smile. “So, when will I see you again?” he asked casually. Tallulah shrugged. “I don’t know.” Roger was baffled. “But it's all in the past. How can you not know?” "It's not the past for me" she explained. "And the next time I see you probably won't be the next time you see me." Roger was quiet as he pondered the implications of her statement. "So does that mean... you're not visiting me in order?" "Pretty much" Tallulah agreed. "I mean, I did when I was little, but I don't any more." "When you were little?" Roger echoed. Tallulah nodded. "At first you were older every time I saw you. But then one day I ended up at a time way before the last time I'd been to." "We fell out of sync" Roger murmured wonderingly. Suddenly his jaw dropped. "Wait, if you're... And that's all in my future, then..." His rambling was cut off when he broke into a huge grin. Tallulah was confused. "What?" "I'm actually going to get to see you grow up!" Roger cried joyfully.

"Well, I wasn’t wrong" Roger quipped, chuckling. Tallulah murmured her agreement, contemplating the meaning of young Roger’s comment. “You were… why were you so happy about seeing me grow up?” She finally asked. Roger sighed. “Well, sweetheart, back then I was still visiting you. Of course I never knew when I might go, and as you got bigger I started to wonder when it might stop.” “When what might stop?” “The visits” Roger explained. “They were getting shorter, with more time in between. It didn’t feel like a good sign.” “Mum said she felt the same” Tallulah commented. Roger wasn’t surprised. “She’s a clever woman, your mum.” He paused. “Anyway,” he went on, “I thought, back then, that when the visits eventually stopped I’d never see you again.” Finally Tallulah was starting to understand. “And that made you sad.” “Exactly” Roger agreed. “But then you told me I was wrong.” 

"You know," Tallulah mused, "I always thought you'd just accepted the weirdness of me travelling, I didn't think you were all that happy about it." Roger sighed. "I wasn't, actually, but if the alternative was never seeing you or being in your life, I was quite happy to deal with the occasional weirdness." "But you are in my life" Tallulah commented, confused. "I am now" Roger pointed out. "But back then I didn't know that would happen." "Oh yeah" Tallulah agreed.  

Tallulah was quiet for a moment, considering the other implications of yesterday's adventure. "So I guess we know something now" she commented. "I'm not going to end any earlier than 1978." "Not necessarily" Roger replied. Tallulah was confused. "But you'd never seen me before?" "I know" Roger responded. "But just because I didn't see you it doesn't mean you weren't there." "So you mean… I might go back to the 70s again but not end up near you?" Tallulah said slowly, trying to understand what this revelation might mean. "But what will I do?" she fretted. "You'll be ok" Roger soothed. "I'll teach you a few useful things, just in case." 

Suddenly he sighed. "You'll have to be careful though. Especially if you end up in ’74." "What happened in 1974?" Tallulah asked, confused. Roger smiled. "You did." Tallulah did know that, she thought, but she also knew she was born in 2014, and honestly it was hard enough keeping track of which years she’d visited, let alone other vaguely important years in her personal history. And besides, who bothered to take note of when they’d been conceived? Although, for most people it wasn’t four decades before their birth. Then again, Tallulah was definitely not most people. And she wouldn't want to change that for the world.

*******************************************************************************************

A/N 2: A couple of quick explanations: Tallulah’s being deliberately vague so Roger doesn’t find out when she’s likely to visit him again, but until this point she’d only seen him at various points in the early eighties (up to 1985). She’s definitely going to visit him in the 70s again though. And she’s going to keep travelling at least into her early 20s (she has the ability to stop herself going if she really needs to, but it’s quite tiring so she doesn’t like doing it much when she’s young.) Also, something I always envisioned but never quite managed to show anywhere is that Tallulah is quite close to present Brian, who is of course absolutely fascinated by her abilities and has been sort of studying her experiences since she was a child. And present Roger likes to talk through Tallulah’s visits to the past with her after the fact, though Tallulah isn’t always in the mood.

Universal Taglist: @wandering-at-midnight @fruityfreddie @trumanjo @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @itsametaphorbriansblog @theedwardscollection @simplyvictoria-93 @kotoamor @j1224  @florenceivy @jennyggggrrr @mercurycrowley @xstrawverrymilktaex

[fallintosanity]

the best part of crossovers: when the magic systems collide and no one knows what’s going on

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

By the time Cloud’s alarm blared to life the next morning, he was so tense he nearly jumped off the bed at the sound. Sephiroth just stretched and yawned as if he’d actually spent the night sleeping instead of leaning against Cloud’s desk. His eyes had fallen closed at some point, but blinked open now, those disconcerting catlike pupils wide and almost normal-looking in the dark room. His eyes found Cloud’s; he inclined his head and left the room without a word.

Alone, Cloud sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He was exhausted; despite his mako-enhanced stamina, staying awake on a hair-trigger all night had worn him out. Sephiroth hadn’t done anything except stand there, but the nightmares he didn’t want Cloud to have while sleeping had been screaming through the back of Cloud’s mind anyway.

He wanted to talk to someone about this, but Kunsel had a mission in the south for the next couple of days with Zack and Angeal. Cloud wasn't sure Kunsel would really understand, either. Cloud had told him about the future, but there was a big difference between knowing in theory what Sephiroth was capable of, and watching him slaughter everyone you cared about. Aeris - this timeline’s Aeris, who hadn't faced Sephiroth with him - wouldn't understand either. Genesis was the most likely to understand at least some of it, but if Genesis found out Sephiroth had spent the night in Cloud's room, he’d have a fit, and Cloud wasn't up for dealing with a Genesis fit right now.

Sighing, Cloud rubbed a hand over his face and rolled out of bed. He had a couple of small local missions to deal with today; Lazard had been keeping him close to Midgar ever since Nibelheim, probably out of a not-inaccurate suspicion that Cloud might just… not come back from a more distant assignment. Nothing around Midgar was especially difficult for any First Class, much less someone Cloud's level, but it would still give him a chance to fight something, to burn off some of the restless energy that sang in his blood after the long night of tension.

He showered, dressed, and headed out. At least this early in the morning he didn’t have to worry much about being chased by members of his fanclub (Gaia, he had a fanclub, and he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around that). The missions didn’t take long, despite his best efforts to go slowly; there was only so much he could do to draw out clearing a couple infestations of razorweed, a flock of ahrimans, and a particularly stubborn nest of hedgehog pies. He swung by Aeris’s church after he finished, but it was empty - Aeris was probably out with her wagon selling flowers.

Finally Cloud conceded that unless he wanted to wander around Wall Market and chase off pickpockets the rest of the day, he didn’t have anything to do except return to ShinRa headquarters. He didn’t want to, because Sephiroth was there and he really didn’t want to run into Sephiroth, but he couldn’t stay out here forever. Hopefully Sephiroth’s oh-so-important meetings with the president would take up the whole day.

He stopped by his office - he’d been given the room a month ago at the same time he’d been assigned teaching duties - to drop off the paperwork for the missions, then wandered down toward the training room, out of habit more than anything since Hojo was dead. It was usually empty this time of day, with the Seconds and Thirds working out in the gym or away on missions, so with any luck he wouldn’t be bothered.

Lost in thought, he didn’t realize there was someone else in the room until he’d stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Noctis Lucis Caelum stood in the center of the space, working through some kind of elaborate martial form. He wore the blue uniform of a SOLDIER Third Class, and wielded a standard-issue broadsword as he moved through the form. He stopped short at Cloud’s entrance, grey eyes startled. Like Zack had said yesterday, there was no sign of a mako glow in them.

“Sorry,” Cloud said quickly, and reached for the door to leave.

“It’s fine,” Noctis answered. He straightened from the low stance he’d been in, hand moving as though to drop his sword before catching himself and shrugging awkwardly. “I was almost done anyway.”

“What were you doing?” Cloud asked. The form Noctis had been performing looked like the kind of thing Yuffie had done when she trained, not like anything in a SOLDIER routine. Maybe Noctis was from Wutai, too - his black hair and pale skin would fit right in. It might even explain where he’d come from, and why he hadn’t appeared in Cloud’s original timeline. The Wutai War had ended slightly earlier this time around, with fewer casualties on the Wutai side. Noctis might be a Wutai soldier who’d died in Cloud’s timeline, but lived in this one. If that was the case, it was odd that he’d agreed to join ShinRa at all, but, well, Cloud would have once said the same thing about himself.

Noctis looked down at the broadsword in his hand. “It’s, uh, it’s been a while since I’ve used this kind of sword. Wanted to re-familiarize myself.”

Maybe he normally used a throwing star, like Yuffie. “You can use your own weapons in SOLDIER,” Cloud pointed out, and gestured at First Tsurugi on his back. “If there’s something you like better…”

“Nah,” Noctis said easily. “This is fine.” He slung the broadsword into its holster and headed for the door. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your way.”

Cloud shrugged. “I’m not doing anything.”

Noctis stopped and raised an eyebrow. “You came to the training room to not do anything?”

“...Avoid Sephiroth,” Cloud admitted.

“Sephiroth? He’s that general everyone’s afraid of, right?” Noctis asked.

Cloud stared at him. He’d noticed, back when they’d first gone to recruit Noctis, that the guy hadn’t seemed to know who Genesis was - but to not know who Sephiroth was…

Noctis gave a nervous little laugh, one hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “I just got here, remember? I’m not exactly up on the who’s who of ShinRa.”

“Right.” Cloud really did not want to talk about Sephiroth right now, no matter how weird Noctis’s lack of knowledge was. Noctis seemed to be waiting for him to say something, so he tried, “Uh, how’s everything going? Now that you’re here.”

“Okay, I guess,” Noctis said. He looked down, tugging at the front of his blue uniform self-consciously. “Better than sleeping in the open and hunting for dinner, at least.”

Cloud nodded. He didn’t know what else to say, though, and an awkward silence fell over them. Finally Noctis said, “Guess I should get going. Room’s all yours.” He slipped through the door with a casual wave, leaving Cloud alone to wonder.

* * *

Cloud ended up retreating to the First Class break room to doze on the couch. It wasn’t especially restful - he jolted awake at every passing footstep, terrified that Sephiroth was going to show up again - but it was enough that he didn’t bother trying to sleep that night. He didn’t think he could deal with Sephiroth being in his room again.

The next day was Thursday, Cloud’s day to teach materia use and theory to SOLDIER cadets and rookie Thirds. The class wasn’t especially large; without Jenova’s body to provide an ongoing supply of genetic material for SOLDIER mako treatments, ShinRa had dramatically throttled recruiting and admission into SOLDIER. Cloud had no idea what they would do when they ran out of whatever Jenova cells they’d had on hand before the Nibel incident. Maybe that’s what the Science Department was focused on right now - trying to find a way to replicate the process when Jenova’s body was so much ash.

In any case, the class this time was mostly cadets, and the three rookie Thirds who had, for whatever reason, managed to miss materia lessons up until now. Noctis Lucis Caelum was one of them, standing slightly apart from the others, rolling a Thunder materia between his palms and looking bored. He was the only one who didn’t snap to attention when Cloud stepped to the front of the Training Room, though despite his disinterested slouch his grey eyes were sharp behind his messy black hair.

“So,” Cloud said. “Who here has worked with materia at all before?” A couple hands were tentatively raised - not Noctis’s, though. Cloud kept half an eye on him while pointing to one of the students, a cadet who couldn’t have been more than fourteen. “Can you explain what materia is?”

“Crystallized mako, sir!” the boy barked dutifully.

“Good,” Cloud said. There was a murmur of confusion from the rest of the class, so he explained, “Mako is the physical manifestation of the Lifestream. Materia is what you get when a memory or sensation within the Lifestream takes solid form. When you hold it, you’re able to access the power of the memory or sensation stored within to create different magic effects.”

He pulled out his own Bolt materia and held it up. “This is a Bolt materia. As you can guess from the name, it casts lightning-based magic.” He held up his Barrier next. “Barrier. A raw Barrier materia will cast a plain Barrier spell. This one is mastered, so it casts Wall. Some materia gain new spells as you level them up.”

“Level them up?” Noctis asked. “Like a video game?”

“Video games?” Cloud echoed with a frown.

Noctis made a vague hand motion, brow furrowing. “You know, like arcade games and stuff?”

Cloud stared at him for a few seconds before remembering the arcade at the Golden Saucer, the bright video screens offering a variety of games. “Yeah.”

Noctis nodded thoughtfully. He actually looked interested in the lesson now, eyeing his materia with clear curiosity.

For the next ten minutes or so, Cloud explained the basics of actually using materia: warm-up times, activation, range and area of effect. His students were all using ShinRa manufactured materia, and he let them handle his Restore materia to feel the difference. Some of them clearly couldn’t tell, which wasn’t unexpected - everyone responded to materia differently, and some people were more sensitive to its power than others. Noctis was clearly in the sensitive group; his eyes widened when he touched the Restore and he twitched like he’d been stung.

Finally it was time to let the students try casting. Three test dummies were set up along one end of the Training Room, and Cloud got the students lined up a safe distance back. “Be careful,” he warned. “Even low-level materia can be deadly if used incorrectly.” Probably not to the Thirds, to be honest - their SOLDIER toughness and mako-enhanced healing could handle anything an unleveled, manufactured materia could produce - but the cadets didn’t have that yet.

There was a chorus of “Yes, sir!”s as the first set of students stepped forward, within range of the dummies. It took a while for each of them to manage a successful cast, between figuring out how to use the materia at all, and the slow warm-up speed typical of unleveled materia, but a couple of minutes later, the dummies had been sufficiently showered in fire and ice. Cloud waved the group back, and the next set stepped forward.

Noctis was in the fifth and last group, and Cloud kept a close eye on him as he walked up to the line. Despite Genesis’s insistence that Noctis must have had a mastered Fire materia to have done what he did to the harpies in Corel, Noctis’s reactions in class had suggested he had never even touched materia before today. He slotted his materia into his bracer and held his hand out toward the dummy in front of him, and the air began to crackle with electricity.

Cloud had half a second to realize something was wrong - the power level was too high, the area of effect too large - and to make a grab for his Barrier. Then lightning blasted through the entire back half of the Training room.

Cloud slammed into the wall, the breath knocked out of him and his ears ringing from the deafening boom. White spots danced in his vision, and he blinked for several seconds before his eyes cleared enough to see. All three dummies were blackened and charred, and electric arcs still danced and sparked between the dummies’ metal stands, the walls, and the floor. Thank Odin, the students all appeared unharmed, if as literally and metaphorically shocked as Cloud was.

The only thing that kept him from leaping at Noctis immediately was the fact that Noctis, too, was flat on his ass, his hair standing on end and his mouth hanging open in surprise. He looked up as Cloud stormed over to him, his eyes wide.

“What did you do?!” Cloud demanded.

“I don’t know!” Noctis said. “I just… tried to cast it, like you said.”

Cloud held out a hand. “Give me that materia.”

Noctis popped the little green sphere out of his bracer and handed it over without protest. Cloud rolled it between his hands, trying to get a feel for the magic stored inside. Given what had just happened, he was expecting to sense a high-level Tri-Thundaga spell, or maybe even an Electrocute. But all he felt was a low-level Thunder - the bog-standard manufactured materia any SOLDIER could get from ShinRa’s Equipment Room.

He looked down at Noctis again. “Where did you get this?”

“The Equipment Room,” Noctis said. “Is it… broken?”

“Materia doesn’t break,” Cloud said. “Not like that.”

Noctis frowned at his own hands, then up at Cloud. “So what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Cloud admitted. He motioned to the other students to get back, waiting for Noctis to roll to his feet and join them; when they were safely clustered at the other end of the room, Cloud cast Wall over them. Then he turned to the training dummies. Given how quickly the spell had gone off when Noctis cast it, Cloud was surprised to find that it took the expected several seconds to warm up. And when the spell finally cast, it produced a single thin bolt of lightning that did little more than darken the top of the dummy’s head.

He stared at the materia, baffled. That wasn’t how magic worked. It didn’t make any sense.

“...Sir?” one of the cadets asked tentatively.

Cloud’s confusion must have been showing on his face. He quickly schooled his expression back to neutral. “That’s enough for today,” he said to his students. “Practice with your materia this week. You probably won’t be able to level it before next week’s class, but you should be able to cut down the casting time. Dismissed.”

They saluted and filed out, except for Noctis, who stayed behind, eyes on his materia which Cloud still held. “So… do I get it back?”

Cloud hesitated. “Try it one more time.” He tossed the materia to Noctis, who caught it and slotted it back into his bracer. Cloud dropped a Wall over the two of them, then nodded toward the dummies.

Noctis held out his hand, brow furrowed in concentration. Again Cloud felt the tingle of electricity almost immediately, but this time the spell Noctis produced was almost identical to the lackluster bolt Cloud had just done. He frowned at the materia. “That’s weird.”

“Yeah,” Cloud agreed. “You’ve really never used materia before?”

“Never,” Noctis said. For a moment he looked like he wanted to say something else, but then he closed his mouth and shrugged.

“Well, be careful with this one,” Cloud said. “You might want to ask for a replacement, just in case. No one got hurt this time, but without knowing what made it do that…”

Noctis nodded. “Sorry about that.”

Cloud shrugged. “Not your fault.”

Noctis grunted agreement, then turned and headed out after the rest of the students. Cloud watched him go in silence, unease curling in his gut. Maybe it was just a coincidence - maybe something had gone horribly wrong in the materia manufacturing process that had caused power to somehow get stored up in that particular materia. Cloud hadn’t ever heard of anything like that happening before, but he also knew very little about ShinRa’s manufacturing process. Maybe he could ask Genesis later.

But the fact that it had been Noctis of all people who’d done it - Noctis, who’d appeared seemingly from thin air under mysterious circumstances, who had killed an entire flock of harpies in minutes apparently without the use of materia, who didn’t recognize ShinRa’s two most well-known SOLDIERS…

Cloud sighed. With Jenova and Hojo dead, he’d thought he could finally relax a little, but Noctis was too dangerous a mystery to leave alone. He just hoped Noctis didn’t have any plans to destroy the world.

[y-not-loki]

Chilling | Loki L.

A/N: This was a lot fluffier and shorter than I thought it would be, but here ya go. This is for @loki-the-fox​‘s Winter Writing challenge. I got the prompt ‘watching movies under a pile of blankets’ and I think I interpreted it differently. (also, I actually haven’t watched The Nightmare Before Christmas or literally any Christmas movie before, so this may be a bit inaccurate)

Warnings: Pretty sure there’s a few ‘innuendos’ (bc my friends say it’s dirty to say ‘entertain me’ and I honestly don’t know why or how). Unedited bad writing. If there need to be any warnings added, let me know.

Word Count: 1 750

Blurb: Winter finally came (not Winter Soldier, he’s cool, but he’s not freezing enough to force (Y/N) into hiding) and all (Y/N) wants to do is hide in a pile of blankets with her boyfriend, Loki and watch movies. Somehow, it ends up being filled with distracting commentary, no movies and a tickle fight.

Prompt: Watching movies under a pile of blankets.

*DISCLAIMER: I DON’T OWN ANYTHING IN THIS BUT THE PLOT*

(Y/N) groaned and rolled over, somehow unable to get comfortable in the most comfortable pile of blankets she had ever made. It was snowing outside, and the Christmas tree was glowing in the corner of her room.

Yeah, she lived with the Avengers and had her own room in the Compound, but that was only because she was Tony’s apprentice alongside Peter, and her ability was… quick thinking? And a fit body? She could fight and hack, but that was about it, so she never really went on missions and instead helped Pepper out with Stark Industries and she would eventually inherit Stark Industries from Pepper if it ever came to that, or if both Tony and Pepper eventually retire with their own family (she swore that they would get there eventually… eventually).

There was a polite knock on the door, and (Y/N) called out, “Come in!” And she heard the door slide open, almost silently, but she could still hear it through the layers upon layers of blankets she was curled up in.

Sticking her head out, she glimpsed black and green leather, as well as gold highlights, before ducking back down as she felt something heavy land on top of the pile of blankets.

“So what is my esteemed consort doing?” Loki asked in that smooth tone of his and (Y/N) nearly swooned right then and there. Honestly, sometimes she barely believed that she was with this amazing man.

And oh, the mischief they caused as a team, because whilst Loki had his head in his books and magic in his veins, (Y/N) could hack almost any software.

Together they were a formidable force, which is why most of the team and some of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were constantly on their toes.

“Watching movies underneath a pile of blankets whilst getting squashed by her amazing boyfriend.” She retorted, and shifted underneath him, and Loki’s face appeared at the hole she was watching The Nightmare Before Christmas through.

“Hm? Only amazing?” Loki smirked, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Turn into a snake, slither in here and keep me company, will you?” She asked him, and he grinned, turning into a snake promptly and curling up around her, then turning back into Asgardian form, arms around her waist as he pulled her into his chest.

She giggled as the blanket fell over his face and he huffed in annoyance.

Loki looked down at her, indignant. “Did you just laugh at me?”

(Y/N) smirked, and replied cheekily, “Maybe?”

Loki frowned, then looked back at the screen that was only just visible to the two of them under the fort of softness.

(Y/N) had barricaded the front with pillows, and then an army of stuffed animals. Around the edges were rolled up blankets, and the ends of around five blankets were tucked underneath them. She liked her blanket piles to be at least somewhat organised and at least somewhat spacious so she wasn’t trapped with her arms by her sides and her legs together, because then she wouldn’t be able to get back out. There was only just enough space for Loki and her to wriggle around and get comfortable. It didn’t help that Loki was in his Asgardian garments, but she guessed they were the only thing that kept him the slightest bit warm, if he even needed to stay warm.

She grinned at him and lay her head on the front pillows, which peaked out of the blanket fort only slightly, and Loki followed her movement, but whilst (Y/N) was watching the movie, Loki focused on her face.

Midgardian entertainment was below him.

Unless (Y/N) was the entertainment.

He could work with it if (Y/N), the only human to stand up for him on this gods-forsaken world, was the entertainment.

He buried his face in her neck, his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest with a smirk.

“What now?” She asked, exasperated that her boyfriend needed constant attention (not that she minded).

“Can we do something more exciting?” Loki asked, his lips centimetres away from her own, and her lips pulled up into a smirk, she rolled so that he hovered above her.

“Such as?” She quirked an eyebrow, drinking in his long frame from her view below him.

Loki’s expression went from teasing to borderline malicious. His fingers itched to get up to mischief and his muscles felt taut with unused energy.

“This.” He whispered, and at the same time he went down for a kiss, he reached for her sides, holding himself up with purely core strength and straddling a pliant (Y/N).

Almost the second his fingertips made contact, her eyes flew wide open to see the glint of amusement in his eyes, and she squirmed and laughed against his soft, albeit cold, lips.

His hands were everywhere he knew she was ticklish. At her sides, sometimes flicking up to her armpits and along her shoulders and neck.

In the end, (Y/N) was stuck, gasping for breath as Loki spaced his attacks out further until her hope that the onslaught of laughter and giggles was over, only for the hope to be squashed in a rage of giggles.

“St-Stop!” (Y/N) gasped between laughs, tears leaking out her eyes and the heat of being underneath so many blankets finally getting to her, and Loki paused, fingers digging into her sides. “Are you seriously bored enough to tickle me?” (Y/N) asked. They had the basic rules in their monogamous relationship; no dating others, no one-night stands with others, no dates with others etc., but one rule that (Y/N) had been very adamant about, was no tickling unless they were desperate for attention or amusement.

She just didn’t like the feeling of suffocating on oxygen, and being completely at the mercy of someone else.

Loki leaned down and grinned. “Yes.” His lips were centimetres from hers, and (Y/N)’s breath hitched as Loki’s hold on her sides tightened.

The movie played in the background, completely forgotten as Loki gazed almost longingly at (Y/N)’s lips, and (Y/N) stared him in the eyes. He truly did have beautiful eyes… they were a lovely blue that occasionally brightened when he had an extremely dark thought, or lightened whenever he was feeling lonely, sometimes they even turned an aqua or turquoise, slightly green, when he was feeling mischievous, more like himself. Right now they were a dark blue, with flecks of bright green making his eye seem to glow. She had long since figured that meant that he felt… well, there was no way to put it, other than loving or adoring. And she was pretty sure his eyes only looked like that when he held her this close, or looked at her lips with such hunger.

“May I?” He whispered, warm breath caressing her lips, and she smirked.

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask the lips themselves.”

Loki chuckled darkly. “And there’s only one way to do that.” He captured her lips in his, and she melted.

Everything felt so soft… the blankets underneath her, the blankets on top of Loki, Loki’s silky hair between her fingers… well everything would feel soft if Loki’s leather gear wasn’t digging into her skin. You can’t have everything anyway.

“Hm… I love you, Loki.” (Y/N) hummed happily into his ear, and she felt him grin against her neck, where his mouth had relocated to after realising that (Y/N) was still human, and still needed oxygen to breathe.

“A horrible decision, really.” Loki nose-booped her and she giggled, still rather giddy and high on the idea that she had such a wonderful boyfriend. They had only been dating for… two weeks was it? And they had had their third date the previous night. It had been ice-skating, and Loki was (unsurprisingly) elegant and ethereal, floating along the ice as if he were flying. “But I love you too, little snow angel.”

“It’s not a horrible decision to love an incredibly handsome, powerful, smart, charismatic and charming Prince of Asgard.”

“And rightful King of Jotunheim.” Loki smirked, but his eyes softened. “But truly, how could a beauty such as yourself, love a monster like me?”

“Every Beast has his Beauty. I can’t believe you don’t know Beauty and the Beast!” (Y/N) exclaimed, looking at him wide-eyed, squirming to get out. Loki watched on, mildly amused.

“And I am assuming this is some sort of Midgardian entertainment?”

“Yes! It’s an old story about a rich, snobbish prince who threw parties all the time, and judged people only on their appearance, then got cursed by a beautiful fairy who appeared as an ugly old hag. He was turned into a beast and had to live in a castle far, far away, alone until the day that someone loves him for not what he looks like, but who he is inside. Then comes along an old merchant, his youngest daughter wanting him to bring home a rose, and the Beast captures the old merchant, then demands he send his youngest daughter to him in exchange for the merchant’s freedom-” (Y/N) noticed that Loki wasn’t wearing his usual indifferent facial expression, but one that said ‘I understand’ and ‘I want to see this’. “I’ll play it tomorrow, and we can hide in another pile of blankets as we watch it!” (Y/N) proposed the idea, and Loki’s eyes lit up, then (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Promise me you won’t tickle me all of tomorrow if I do this for you?”

“Hmm… that’s a high price to pay, princess, but I guess I’ll have to say yes.” Loki purred, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes, although she was jumping around in joy on the inside, practically vibrating with love and warmth.

Loki wondered what he did to end up with such a radiant angel to love.

(Y/N) wondered what she did to end up with such a perfect Prince Charming to love.

Although (Y/N) was still rather annoyed that Loki hadn’t seen any Disney films, and made an oath to herself that she would introduce him to every single one of them.

Not that Loki had to know, of course, and she’d have to plan with Peter, as Peter had come to her when he found out that Tony hadn’t seen any of the Disney films (‘Sorry Pete, I’m too busy’ ‘Come on, Mr Stark, this one’s a good one!’ ‘That’s what you said last time….’) so it only made sense that Peter should help her with this.

And so the planning began.

[rahullkohli]

pairings: dean/cas word count: 2,010 tags: fluff fluff and fluff notes: i meant to do a 24 days of christmas thing, but december kicked me in the teeth, so instead i’ll just do small destiel stuff here and there throughout the month. they will all be in this tag

”Now, that is extremely inaccurate,” Cas exclaimed with lines filling his forehead. With a small sigh Dean pressed the button on the computer, pausing the movie. ”What is?” He asked and took a mouthful of beer. Every time this happened whenever they were watching a movie it called for alcohol.

”An angel doesn't get his wings just because a human rings a bell. We are created with wings,” Cas explained, and turned slightly to look at Dean where he was faced with an amused smile. ”What?” He asked. ”Do I have something on my face?” A small laugh fell from Dean's mouth with a shake of his head. ”No. But come on, man. That's not the point of the movie. You gotta... You gotta learn to separate things. It's not like they had angel consultants. People make up stupid shit for entertainment value.”

It happened from time to time. They would watch a movie, and Cas would point out mistakes. Whether it be something biblical or historical. Once he even corrected the narrator of a dinosaur program and Sam ate it all up. Dean found it both annoying and endearing.

”So what you are saying is that I should not pay attention to detail when we watch films?”

Dean chewed on that for a bit, let it sink in, and searched for a way to phrase what was on his mind. ”No, just... remember that it's just a movie. Like... when I watch a movie about vampires I know that ain't how they're really killed. You know, stake to the heart and all. But I don't let it ruin a good flick for me.”

Cas bit his lower lip and nodded quietly as he looked back to the screen where the Hollywood-angel in black and white was sitting with a pondering gaze. ”I can do that. I can do that, yes.”

Dean pressed the button and let the movie roll again as he clincked his bottle against Cas'.

To Dean, Christmas was definitely the most horrible time of the year. It came with a lot of baggage for him, and even though they had found a home in the bunker, it still didn't feel quite right to celebrate when childhood memories showed their ugly face, and with all the crap going on in the world. So this year Sam had taken a trip to Chicago to see old Stanford friends for the holidays, which was a welcome surprise for Dean who had already planned for beer and movies and nothing else. The fact that Cas was there to share it with him... Well, that definitely made it all way better.

The rest of the movie went by in silence, save for a few laughs here and there. Right up until the end of the movie where that line made its reprise. ”Look, Daddy. Teacher says, every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings,” little Zuzu beamed proudly, and Dean half expected Cas to come with another confused remark. But he didn't. He kept quiet, all through the roll of the credits.

They helped each other clean up and got ready for bed as usual. It had gotten late, and they had run out of drinks, so there wasn't much else to do than hit the sheets. Choosing to watch A Wonderful Life with Cas wasn't something Dean had done with the whole angel theme in mind. It was a classic, and he wanted to share a bit of the human experience with Cas. There was a lot he had missed, and how could Dean not let him have a little slice of the good things. They faced more than enough of the crap on a regular day.

They went about their business and soon found the warmth underneath the sheets with the dark of the room surrounding them. It was real nice, Dean always thought, how Cas would stay in bed with him even though he didn't need sleep himself. It was a good way to chase away bad dreams, Dean had found, to have Cas there with him. Close enough to feel and touch, to seek refuge with when the terrors crept into his head and filled him with adrenaline and fear. Cas was always there. To make him feel safe.

”Do you ever miss it?” Dean suddenly asked, not sure where he was going with it, but the question had been fiddling around the back of his head for a long time, maybe even years, and for some reason it felt like he was gonna choke on it if he didn't get it out.

With a small huff Cas turned around, meeting Dean's eyes through the dark. ”I thought you were asleep by now... Miss what?” He wondered, voice gruff with unuse. ”Just... Heaven. The other... Other angels, y'know.” Now that the words were out of his mouth he was a little scared. What if Cas said yes? It wouldn't be right for Dean to do anything but tell him to go back, then. If Cas really missed it, it would be selfish of Dean to keep a hold of him on Earth.

But there was no way in hell Dean could go through the rest of his life without Cas there.

”I don't get... Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?” Cas stared at Dean, eyes flickering and brows narrowing. ”I just – You know what? Never mind, okay? It was just a dumb thought,” Dean mumbled and squeezed Cas' arm gently, his thumb brushing over soft skin.

The room fell silent again, and Dean watched Cas for a while. He could see that a billion thoughts were flying around in his mind, and he didn't want to press him about it. It was a big subject, and not one that was usually brought up. Talk of angels and Heaven was rare – not just between Dean and Cas, but in general. It appeared that Cas wished to not speak of it, so nobody else did. It only ever resurfaced whenever they were working a case where it was pertinent, all other times Cas might as well have been a regular human there to live and die like the rest of them.

Dean had just returned to closing his eyes, ready to get some sleep, when Cas spoke again. His words were soft, and he almost seemed ashamed which broke Dean's heart. ”I do. But I don't,” he said. Dean kept his eyes closed, feeling like it might be easier for Cas to get the words out if there was no eye contact. Or maybe he was simply to scared to see it for himself.

”I mean... They were my brothers and sisters. It's my home. For ages. I have seen worlds created and destroyed with them by my side. I have fought and killed to protect them and our home. For eons the angels were the only ones I saw, and I had never been apart from them for more than days before I met you.”

The word pierced like needles in Dean's ears. Home. What he himself had longed for. For a lifetime before they found the bunker. And even that felt like it was missing something from time to time, in order for it to be a real home. Cas had left that behind to be on Earth with him.

”I'm sorry, man,” Dean said quietly. ”I don't think I've ever said it out loud. I guess I kinda just hoped that you knew, but... I'm sorry. I never wanted to take you away from your home. Your family. I can't even imagine –” He broke off, taking a moment to breathe. ”The times Sam and I have been apart for more than a couple weeks has always been wrecking. Not knowing how he was doing, or if he was even still breathing. It's scary. And the angels these days... They're falling like flies.”

”Dean,” Cas cut him off firmly, grabbing his wrist. ”Let me finish.” Their eyes met each other, and Dean gave a nod. They were so close, the beds of the bunker ridiculously small, and Dean could feel the moist warmth of Cas' breath on his skin, and the rising and falling of his chest when he breathed. He always found it strange how these so very human functions still were there even though Cas wasn't technically a living organism with need for it the way he did himself. But it always felt good when they were lying in bed, and Dean could use Cas' breathe as a way of calming himself. That was a part of what made the bunker home for him.

”What I mean is... I miss it. What it was. Before the wars, before God left us and the worst we had to worry about was humans losing faith in us, or using their faith as an excuse to do bad things in our father's name.” His fingers had started to dance up and down Dean's arm, tickling on skin that made his hair stand on ends and a rizzle run down his spine.

”But that's not how it is anymore. It hasn't been that for a long time. It was good for me. I was content. But I was also someone else than I am today. I had no thoughts that were bred of my own mind, nor any wishes or curiosity. I was a soldier in line with the rest of them. It was good because it was all I had ever known.”

A smile curled at the corners of his lips, and Dean couldn't help but return it. The knot that had been sitting in the back of his throat had started to desolve, and his chest was no longer heavy as it had been minutes before.

”Before I met you and Sam my existence wasn't my own. But now I've got a life. I am fighting because I believe that the war we are battling is for something good. I let myself be entertained by popular culture like movies and music, and you showed me that it can be enriching. Even when it doesn't make complete sense.”

Dean chuckled, the smile on his face now wide and open. As much as Cas never spoke of Heaven, he also didn't talk about how he was adjusting to Earth in this way. It was mostly a random remark every now and again, or Dean would pick up on small signs, like if Cas made a pop culture reference, or he turned up the volume when a song came on the radio.

”And you,” Cas continued. ”Not just my time on Earth with you and Sam. But my time with you. Alone. I can actually feel what humans sing about, and – at first I didn't understand when people talked about having butterflies. It made no sense for people to have insects in their organs. But the fluttering feeling when I'm with you... I get it now. It makes me feel like swarms are flying around inside of me.”

Now Dean was full on laughing, cheeks warm and his heart popping and dancing in his chest. If this wasn't what life was supposed to be, he didn't even want the real thing. ”Babe, that is some sappy ass shit,” he grinned and ran hand down the back of Cas' head. ”I turned you all soft and gooey,” he chuckled and leaned closer to press his mouth against Cas', letting it linger for a while.

[demonicheadcanons]

RFA and V and Saeran at the Movies/Cinema with MC

(AN: Slowly running out of ideas but I’m stuck in bed all day due to a leg injury (and probably tomorrow too at this rate) so I really want to write something ;; This is how the RFA, V, and Saeran would be like at the movies with MC. As always, I’m still getting used to writing these lovely characters, so I apologise if any of these are OOC. Enjoy! If you have any requests drop them into my inbox and I’ll complete them ASAP ^^ As long as they’re SFW, that is ;;)

Zen

Takes you to see something cute and romantic. If you suggest a horror movie or something like that he’ll totally check it out too

But he’s secretly a little bit scared

Gets really involved, whispering things to you (the people behind you get a little frustrated) about how they should do this or that or whatever

If you ever watch drama shows with him be prepared to comfort him because this boy is emotional af

He’ll put his arm around you and pull you close to him. Hope you like PDA. Holds your other hand in his and just enjoys being close to you

Eventually he’ll stop talking because he’s focusing on you and your reactions to the movie, rather than actually on the movie itself

You’re so cute that he takes you out regularly to the movies now, just so he can watch your face as you react to things. The tiny little subtle changes are what get him the most; the tiny crinkles that form on your nose when something disgusting happens, or the way your eyes widen slightly when there is a lot going on

One day he just leans over and kisses your cheek quietly and gently and you turn to look at him, blushing, and he just shrugs and goes, “You’re so cute, I just had to!”

If your reaction is particularly adorable he’ll immediately buy the movie on DVD when it comes out

Buys a huge bucket of popcorn between the two of you every time, but you never finish it so he brings it with you and lets you eat the rest of it at the house

Just a real sweetheart who loves you so much

Yoosung

You... you want to watch a horror movie? Okay... that’s cool! Yeah sure, he can’t wait, let’s go watch a horror movie!

Holds your hand, as if he’s trying to tell you he’s there for you if you get scared, but in reality he needs an anchor so he doesn’t cry

Tucks his feet up and curls up in a ball at one point because he can’t handle this why is it so scary why would you choose this

He’s one of the three people that scream at the jump scare

Your fingers are broken by the end of it, he’s gripping on to your hand so much

When you leave he’s sweating and his eyes are wide open, and he just looks terrified

Gives you a hug and whispers to you asking if you can maybe never do that again

Kiss him and he’ll feel a bit better and smile, saying that well, maybe it wasn’t so bad

He prefers action movies or movies like Lego Batman and stuff. Not a huge romance fan because it makes him feel like he’s not being romantic enough

Has the most adorable reactions to everything in action films, seems to be in awe the entire time. Gets emotional easily

Also, he loves popcorn and sweets so you guys just have a junk-food feast

He can’t go too often because the cinema is expensive and he’s a student/working to pay off his student loans, but he really cherishes the times he can go with you

Jaehee

Zen stars in a movie and it comes on in the cinemas and so she finds time to get off work and go with you to watch it

You both get drinks and some popcorn, which Jaehee barely eats. She is so hyper before the movie, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her so excited. She’s normally so tense but she seems so relaxed and content right now (like she is when you cuddle aww) and you can’t keep your eyes off her

She might even get a bit daring, she’s so hyper, and just as the movie is starting she leans over and kisses you on the cheek before turning back to face the screen and acting like it didn’t happen, a small smirk on her face

She’s so cute, paying such close attention to every little detail, and after she is explaining to you all these little tiny details you missed and you have no idea how she saw them all or how she remembers everything

She can even quote things from the movie and you’re just in awe

She won’t get that involved with any other film, unless Zen is in it. So any time Zen is in a film, even just if he has a tiny role in it, you take her to go see it

She’s adorable and deserves more love tbh

Jumin

He doesn’t really like the cinema, it’s too stuffy and there are too many people and he has to dress casually? What? Does he even have casual clothes? (He does and he looks amazing in them RIP MC)

You both get odd looks because everyone knows who he is, and also because you turn up in the company limo (you were not letting him drive there)

If you want something, he’ll get it for you. Tells you to go on in with the tickets and get your seats whilst he gets the drinks and stuff. He comes in with far too many sweets, because he wasn’t sure what you wanted so he just got like basically everything. He doesn’t eat any himself, because he wants to keep his diet meticulous, but he doesn’t mind spoiling you every here and there, knowing you’ll take care of yourself and that you will both return to eating normally anyway at the penthouse, so this won’t have any real affect

You have to remind him that when the movie is playing, he can’t talk or people will get annoyed

Sits silently for the entire film, staring at the screen, his arms crossed. That isn’t what MC meant, Jumin

Next time he rents out the entire room so that it’s just you two so that he can talk to you during the film, and also so he can relax a bit and be a bit affectionate with you during the film

Tbh he doesn’t give a single shit about the film that’s playing. He puts an arm around you and leans his head on yours and he might fall asleep depending on how bored he is. Otherwise, he’ll just sit and blankly stare at the screen and make slight comments about the film. If he doesn’t like it he will gladly say so. I hope you don’t actually like the movie because he will ruin it for you

Asks questions here and there because he just doesn’t get some things. This boy rarely watches movies or TV or anything like that. You have to explain a lot why movies appeal to people

You won’t force him to go to the movies again, because he just doesn’t seem to enjoy it, but in reality he just likes being able to relax with you. He’ll even start offering to take you to see movies and stuff just so he can be with you away from home and from everyone he knows – he loves it being just the two of you. The movies become an escape for you both, and after a while he’ll even start enjoying some of them

He likes more complex films with a deep plot to them that requires him to think about the story

Seven/Saeyoung

Space movies are his jam, unless they’re inaccurate, and then he fucking hates them with a passion and will rant about them when you are still sitting in the cinema watching the movie

You both get asked to leave multiple films because of this, and he’ll just laugh and leave but then he’ll apologise to you later in case you were actually enjoying the movie

He adores animated movies. Cries when something bad happens in them, especially when it involves animals. He sobbed when watching Bambi. Protect this boy

Will stand up and cheer at the end of a movie if he really enjoyed it. He’s really cute

Loves it when you, him, Yoosung, and Saeran all go to see movies (it takes Saeran some convincing though) because you’re all very important to him, you all mean more to him than anyone else in the world (you especially, he’ll remind you)

Drags you and Yoosung to see horror films, and he’s mostly alright with them (doesn’t understand the appeal of too much blood or gore though, wrinkles his nose at it and says it’s pointless and disgusting). He just sits there laughing at Yoosung’s reactions the entire time

If one of you is having a bad day and you go to the movies to relax, he’ll put an arm around your shoulder and just sit cuddled up to you happily, not giving a shit as to what anyone else thinks

 V/Jihyun Kim

You have to wait until after his eyes get fixed, but then he wants to go see every movie he can with you

He likes the cinema, he finds the atmosphere relaxing. Everyone’s sitting down to watch this film together as a huge group

You hear him go “wow” a few times, when the cinematography in the film is excellent. He doesn’t really care so much about the movie itself – a nice plot is always great though – and rather tends to focus on the scene setting and the backgrounds and such

If there is a particularly beautiful shot you can just see his eyes light up

Like some of the others, he loves to sit with his arm around your shoulder. This boy loves just being close to you. He’ll get you anything you want to drink and eat, because he just can’t deny you anything. He won’t eat too much in the cinema himself other than maybe some chocolate sweets (HC he loves chocolate, I don’t know why)

If they have one of those boards that you take pictures by, he’ll take the most artistic and beautiful photos of you by it, or if they have people in cosplaying he’ll take photos of you with them

He totally has a scrapbook of photos of you doing cute things that he gives you as an anniversary gift at some point

Unknown/Saeran

You get the oddest looks at the cinema when he takes you to see this adorable animated film, wearing his leather jacket, the white and pink dye still somewhat in his hair (his ginger roots are growing through though, one more haircut and the dye will be gone), and a glare permanently on his face (except when he looks at you and gives you a tiny reassuring smile to show he’s okay – he’s not the best in public situations, but he’s getting there)

Protectively slings an arm around you, even though he’s not big on PDA. Death glares at anyone who looks at either of you

But if you find a lost child or a kid gets hurt or something he’s fucking over by their side in the blink of an eye, helping them because no child deserves to suffer in any way okay? He won’t let that happen

And kids just love him. They’re curious about him and how he looks and such and when he takes off his jacket, with his short sleeved top making the tattoo clear, he gets so many questions from little kids about it. He’s really good with them

Anyway getting to the movie he’ll watch basically anything. Finds super sweet romancy films a little bit sickening, but if you enjoy them he’ll go watch one with you and pretend he liked it

Not much of a talker anyway so he doesn’t really say anything during the film, and he doesn’t have many comments on it, but the second part is due to the fact that he was actually just watching you the entire time instead of focusing on the film. This is why he blushes slightly and mumbles when you ask him what he thought of it (Saeyoung calls him out on it later and you have to drag Saeran away to keep Saeyoung alive)

Doesn’t really like the sweets and stuff, they make him feel sick, but he always gets ice cream when you go to the cinema. Aside from getting to spend time with you and such, this is his main reason for going there

(AN: So I’m not having a great day and this literally took me around 4 hours to write because of it, I’m so sorry, I struggled to put myself in the situations this time and because of that this is probably horrible. I hope it’s okay enough for you guys, I really am sorry. Also, instead of saying Jumin looked amazing, I was just gonna say he looked adorable but apparently non-ace people don’t normally describe people like that so welp

Take care!)

[neen-writes]

Lady in the Garden -- Chapter 3

Series: Fairy Tail/Doctor Who

Characters: Gajeel/Levy

Genre: Adventure/Angst

Summary: She was a falling star; an angel speaking in stardust dialects.  She was madness and wonder, and she asked him to come with her.

Note: Chapter three!  I initially thought I might make each adventure their owner chapter, but I decided to split this one in two.  I’m not as concerned with making the chapters for this story so long, as the whole thing is gonna be a kinda collection of stories, if it works how I planned it.  So here is the first part of their next adventure!  Also, I am not a historian.  This is why this story is taking me so long and if anyone is wondering, I am 100% basing the setting of this chapter on a mix of scenery from Skyrim and the Witcher, just so I had something to reference.  The third Witcher game, according to my searches, takes place around 1272.  The stories will be far more enjoyable if no one gets hung up on my historic shortcomings...  ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy the next installment, it didn’t quite turn out how I wanted but the next part should be fun to work with!

Ch. 1  Ch. 2

“So where did you say you wanted to go, Mr. Redfox?”  Levy called out over the humming and lurching of her ship.

Gajeel took several moments to answer, trying desperately not to hurl all over the grated floor in front of him.  “P-prove this damn thing is a time machine,” he swallowed heavily and took a deep breath,  “Take me back ten years.  Where you found me.”  

Levy puffed her cheeks, “All of time and space and you pick a decade in your own home town.”  With one hand she spun a dial, and with the other she flipped a lever, “But if you insist.”

The lurching changed distinctly, but was no less terrible on the man’s gut.  A loud wail came from the center console, and he watched the blue-haired woman tilt her head.  As before, the heavy boom signified the arrival and a thankful end to the nauseating shaking.  Levy bounded to the other side of the console, and took a moveable screen in her hands.  “This isn’t...  My dear, I get a new face and you still can’t be bothered to just take me where I want to go?”  The Tardis was silent, of course.  No answer was provided to her, as it never was.  There always seemed to be a good reason for the places her ship took them, but it would be nice to always just go where she requested.

“Well Gajeel, funny story.”

“The hell is funny about this?” the man barked back at her, just barely pulling himself to his feet again.  He hunched over the railing with a groan, calming his stomach with more deep breaths.

“Well, actually, nothing.  Strange how often that’s said when the following story is not funny.  Usually means something’s gone wrong,” Levy rambled, taking a glance at the screen in front of her before bounding around the console towards the doors.  “We haven’t landed in Magnolia.”

Gajeel grumbled and turned his burgundy eyes to the woman, “Then where--”

“We also haven’t gone back 10 years,” She stopped in front of the doors and turned back to him with smile, “Woops?  She does that sometimes. I still promise adventure, don't you fret. I'm sure there's… something worthwhile.”

“Woman…” he growled.  Gajeel finally found his balance and stood without the help of the railing, facing her fully.  “Where are we?”

“When,” she corrected.  “Sometime in the thirteenth century, abouts.  She still a little fuzzy on the coordinates.  Earth, at least.  Solid ground,” she quipped, and with both hands behind her back, she unlatched the doors and flung them open.

The man’s gaze flew upwards from her to the golden-lit scenery beyond her.  His mouth hung open slightly as he stepped forward, moving past her, and stepping carefully outside.  He tested the ground first, and when sure he wasn’t going to fall through some illusion, proceeded out into the clearing.  The earth was plush with fresh grass and moss, and pines towered over them, allowing yellow evening light to trickle through.  The breeze moved sweet, crisp air past him, and the trees sung in response.

Levy came up next to him and inhaled deeply. “Ah, fresh air,” she commented, looking to her stunned companion.  A smile lit up her face at his expression of wonder, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.  It really never got old for her.  “Well, what d’you think?”

“It’s real,” he breathed.

“Well of course it is!  What do you think I am, an illusionist?” Levy pouted, her previous mirth completely deflated by his continued lack of faith.  “I showed you space. And yet, you still doubt me. Tsk tsk, Metal Man.”

“I doubt you because you can’t drive,” Gajeel shot back, quietly disappointed that he hadn’t been taken where he hoped.  Still, this wasn’t a total loss.  The man had to admit that he was, definitely, impressed.  He watched the indignant protest rise in her, and he lifted his hand.  “Fine fine, lead the way, Shrimp.”

“I’m leaving you here. I told you I would if you called me that,” Levy shot back, popping a finger into her mouth and then holding it up into the air.  After a moment, she spun on the balls of her feet and declared, “This way.”

Gajeel squinted in a ‘how the hell do you figure’ manner, before shoving his hands into his pockets and following after her.  Sure enough, it wasn’t long before he noticed a worn road, cutting through the foliage.

Levy quickly glanced both ways, noticing movement and a thinning of the trees in the distance: signs of civilization.  “She doesn’t always go where I want but she always brings me places I need to be.  So here begs the question, why are we needed here?”

Gajeel tilted his head, “Needed?”

“To fix things, I fix things.  Most times.  And my Tardis brings me to places that need fixing.”  She glanced back to him, “The universe is a big place and time is a strange thing.  Sometimes things run amok.  Things come to be where they shouldn’t.”  She could tell he was taking a moment to process what she was telling him.

“But we’re in the past and these things have already happened.  Can’t ya just leave them alone?” Gajeel asked, trying to pace himself next to her.

Levy laughed lightly, shaking her head, and turned her golden eyes onto him, “When I crashed into your hut, what did you do?”

Gajeel was caught off guard by the question and stopped midstep for just a second, “You know what I did.”

The Time Lady sighed, stopping with him and pivoting to face him.  Gajeel felt his breath catch in his throat as the light caught her waves of hair first, then her eyes, but it was a split moment before she started speaking again and he was snapped out of it, “Yes but, it was a choice.  Meaning you had options.  Yes?  What was your other choice?  To not come out at all?  To let someone else handle it?  Then where would we be.  What would our timelines have been?”  She tilted her head, hair shifting with her.  “Think, there is a world full of events where you and I never meet,” she offered a lopsided smile, feigning pity, “Tragic though that is.”  

Gajeel crinkled his nose, following along with what she was saying, but not necessarily her train of thought and where she was going with it.

Levy smiled at his alert expression, glad she had found one that could keep up.  “Now imagine every moment, in every day, is like that.  Every decision spinning a web of possible timelines,” While speaking she had lifted her hands, palms towards him, and spread them slowly apart.  “Now, smack that web up and roll it into a ball,” She slapped her hands together, and started to walk again, clasping her hands behind her back.  “Despite the painfully inaccurate name, timelines are neither linear nor, concrete.”

He blinked, hopping a little to keep following her and curled a skeptical lip while furrowing his brow, “I’ll bite; how could you know that, if you only ever see what you do?”

She laughed, almost bitterly, “Wrong.”  Gajeel pulled his head back a little, surprised by the quick answer.  “I see every possibility, everything past and present and what might be.  It’s a mess of everything at once and makes it terribly difficult to focus on the present when you can feel the literal turn of the universe.”  Her gaze was fixed forward, staring into the distance.

For once, Gajeel had nothing to say back to her, but wished she would look at him so he didn’t feel so, disconnected all of the sudden.  After everything that had happened, he was inclined to believe her, but it was still difficult to wrap his head around.  He felt he was beginning to understand what this sort of travel was supposed to be like, but she… she was still a nebulous concept.

After a long moment, Levy spoke up again, “Which is why I prefer to let is all muddle up as much as possible so I can enjoy just a little surprise in my life.  So let’s figure out why we’re here, hmm?”  She flashed a smile at the half-stunned man, finally making eye contact again, and forged forward.

The trees continued to thin, showing their passage into what looked like some kind of settlement.  Further down, the roadway opened up, lined with stone and wood homes.  To their left, a large plot of land dotted with stone tablets: a cemetery.  Levy stopped, and Gajeel didn’t notice until he was a few paces in front of her.  Handfuls of flowers were placed at the bases of several, but it was the statue in the middle that stopped her.  She knew it wasn’t, the shape and size weren't quite right, but still, the angelic figure gave her pause.  To be sure, she pulled out the silvered pen and pointed it.  The tip lit blue, screeched, and with a flourish she flicked it and brought it up in front of her face, deliberately keeping it in the line of sight between her and the figure.  She released her breath and placed the pen back into her coat pocket.  

Gajeel came up next to her, glancing at the statue and then back to her.  “Uh, what’s that about?”

Levy shook her head abruptly, slowly took her yes off the statue and responded, “Playing it safe.”  She knew he wanted more than that, but she kept walking.  There was no reason to expose him to that part of the universe just yet.  Ideally, ever.  

Gajeel peered searchingly into the small cemetery, but couldn’t see anything that looked out of the ordinary to him.  Still not entirely convinced that the woman wasn’t completely insane, he huffed and trudged after her.  

Chickens darted across their paths, avoiding them, and as each person caught sight of them they looked about ready to do the same.  Conversations fizzled out, and people slowly gravitated away from them.  He briefly met gazes with a woman who watched them with an intensity he couldn’t characterize, be it apprehension or utter disdain, with her hand clasped tightly to a pendant around her neck.  The reactions weren’t lost on Gajeel, and he glanced to Levy but she didn’t seem remotely bothered by it.  Rather, she seemed perfectly comfortable with it.  I doubt it’s the first time, he thought.  

“Do ya have a plan or are we just gonna walk around and scare people?” Gajeel asked finally.

“Innkeep,” Levy replied quickly, her eyes searching each building for something specific.

“Come again?”

Levy rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.  “Oh Metal Man, keep up.  Innkeepers are the heart, and the ears.  Any year.  Innkeepers here, bartenders in the present.  Same thing minus the on site drunk rooms.  Need something answered, or even need what the mumblings are, ask at the nearest inn,” she explained, her gaze finally fixing on a sign in the shape of a rearing horse that swung from hinges over an entryway.  “Ah-ha, here.”

Gajeel lifted his brows and wanted to ask about her total nonchalance, or obliviousness, to everyone’s apparent opinion of their presence.  She strolled up the wooden steps and went to push open the heavy door. As though being snapped back to attention, he quickly moved forward and slapped his palm against the door, just over her head.  The Time Lady shot him a perplexed look as he pushed open the door for her, motioning his head for her to move forward.  “What?” he grumbled, unsure why the gesture would be a surprise to her.

She hummed to herself, looking like a thought had just crossed her mind, but she had already filed it away.  Levy proceeded into the strangely quiet hall, full with people crowded at tables with hot meals and frothing mugs.  In the back corner was the counter--to which people went to and fro with their orders--that she was looking for.

Just like outside, as she casually strode forward, attention slowly fixed upon her and her tall companion,  Now in an enclosed space, Gajeel found himself prickling with awareness to the situation, and without realizing, he quickened his pace just enough to remain close behind the small woman, unbothered though she may be by it all.  

Not to her surprise, as soon as the innkeeper noticed them, she immediately furrowed a brow and barked out an indecipherable word.  The sudden movement of a straw-haired man in leather armor gave her an idea of what was said, and she smirked slightly.  By the time she and Gajeel had approached the counter, what noise there was in the hall had died down to whispers, and the armored man was in between them and the counter.  His hand rested conspicuously atop the pommel of a sheathed sword.  

“Evening,” Levy greeted casually. Her complete disregard for the obvious tone of the situation was surprising to Gajeel.

“What’s your business?” the man replied gruffly, his eyes scanning up and down Levy and then lingering on Gajeel, sizing him up.  

“Food, ideally,” she chirped.  “We’ve come a long way and my dear companion needs a hefty supply to maintain his height,” she had to stifle a laugh at the barely audible growl that rumbled from him, “Might we partake?  I ensure you I can pay.”

“Don’t appreciate strangers around here. Ain't seen folk that look like you two neither.  Where’re your papers?” The guard demanded, while the innkeeper watched on apprehensively, arms crossed.

With the confrontational tone, Gajeel inched a little closer to Levy and tensed, narrowing his eyes at the man.  The shift wasn't missed by the astute woman, and she lifted her hand up to stay him. From the corner of her eye, she gave him a knowing look to try and calm him, before focusing back on the guard. She reached into her coat and dug around a little before pulling out a small leather, folded object, akin to a wallet. Levy held it up in front of her and flipped it open to reveal a paper inside.

The guard stared at it a moment, before his brows rose in surprise. “That’s the Baron’s seal, that is.” His hand dropped quickly from his sword and he eased backwards just slightly. “Forgive the disrespect,” he added with heavy sincerity.  Gajeel leaned forward over Levy, trying to get a look at what she could have shown the guard. Briefly, Levy glanced at it herself, giving him a glimpse. Interestingly, he saw exactly what the guard and innkeeper saw.

From behind him the innkeep leaned to the side and peered around him, mirroring his expression when she noticed the seal as well. “Well I'll be damned. Weren’t expectin’ no men… or a Lady from the Baron’s keep. But all considered it’s about damn time he gave a rat’s arse about his people.” The woman, whose hair was pulled back into a frizzy braid, leaned forward on her elbows over the counter.

“All considered?” Levy probed, before perking a little as though forgetting something, “How rude. You know my name, this rugged beastie here is Gajeel, my escort for travel.” She felt his intense gaze boring into her, but she deliberately avoided looking at him. Still, amusement wrinkled the corners of her eyes. “The Baron told me briefly what I'm to investigate but why don't you fill me in miss…?”

“Trea. The muscle is Warner,” the woman replied. The inn itself started to return to its initial volume, having witnessed the diffusing of the tension as Warner stepped fully aside and leaned back against the counter. “Flashy dress for a scout but the hell I know from our corner of the world,” Trea shrugged, “just glad he finally decided do somethin’ about the stupors.”

Levy nodded, “How much worse has it gotten?” It was clear to Gajeel that she knew exactly what to say, and that she had done this before.  It sounded effortless, calm, and it worked.

“Worse,” Warner replied gruffly.

“People’re dropping like flies.  Just three nights past we found another possessed with the fits, just in the middle of the road like the others,” Trea added.

“Sure they ain’t just coming down with the plague or some shit?” Gajeel finally found his voice and, much to Levy’s dismay, it was about as insensitive as she had hoped he wouldn’t be.

Trea shot him a harsh look, brown eyes narrowed.  “We ain’t stupid, wouldn’t have sent so many letters for help for an imbalance of the humors,” she replied bitterly, “Every person has been accounted for as being entirely healthy not hours before.  They’re always found outside, at night, in tremors speakin’ nonsense.  After the fits subside they’re just… empty.  Not coughin, wheezin, or feverish.  They just lie in their beds until they pass of the hunger or thirst.  The people’re fearin’ a curse.”

Levy nodded knowingly, tucking her paper back into her coat. “Looks like we’ve got work to do.  Might you have a room for us for a few nights?  In exchange for the Baron’s interest and generosity?”

Warner looked to the innkeep, who looked at them thoughtfully for a moment.  Finally her gaze settled on Gajeel and she jabbed a finger at him, “Long as you keep him quiet.  I know his kind and I don’t like the look of him.  Nothin’ but trouble.”

Gajeel prickled and moved forward, before a tiny finger shot up in front of his mouth and rested daintily against his lips, stopping him in his tracks.  He looked down incredulously to the tiny woman, and couldn’t help but be surprised she could reach high enough to shush him, which in itself was enough to get her the desired outcome.  

“Of course.  I’m well-versed in his handling, I assure you,” Levy replied brightly, feeling him take her hand in his and pushing it down away from him before releasing her.  

“Then it’s settled. Come to me when you’re ready and I’ll show you which is yours,” she reached under the counter and produced a brass key, handing it over to Levy.

“Thank you.  We’ll do our best to be on our way as soon as possible,” the Time Lady smiled reassuringly to the woman.  

“Hush.  Have a seat at a table and I’ll bring you somethin’.  The Baron may be slow to care about his people but he always sends compensation when it’s due.”  And with that Trea turned, disappearing into a doorway in the back through which savory scents had been wafting since they entered.

“Ya gonna explain how you knew what to show them to let us stay?” Gajeel asked, staring down at the roasted chicken in front of him, unsure if he trusted it enough yet.  Even if Levy had already dug into hers.

The Time Lady tilted her head a little, before humming, “You mean this?” with her free hand, she pulled out the paper she had shown earlier and held it up.  

Gajeel scowled, leaning forward slightly, “This some kind of joke?  It’s blank.” It was the same leather holder, the same sized card, but now there was nothing on it.  It was just a simple piece of paper.  

She laughed, marveling at the things that never got old, no matter how many times she had done this song and dance.  “Psychic paper.  Shows the viewer what I need them to see.  You saw the Baron’s seal because that was what would get us in here.  I have nothing I need to show you, so you see nothing.”  She turned her eyes to his untouched plate and pursed her lips a little.  “Just eat it, you won’t die.  Everyone else seems fine enough.  Wash it down with the ale.  You can have mine too, I don’t care for the taste.”

He frowned at her, glancing around the room, before finally caving and picking up the mug.  He lifted his brows after taking a sip and hummed, It ain’t bad.  Here’s hoping it doesn’t kill me.  But if there’s one way to go…  he thought.  “So.  Is this what you do?  Pick up weird rumors and figure them out?”

Levy knit her brow a little, sitting up straighter.  “What an unfortunate oversimplification.  How little you must think of me.”

“I hardly know you.” Gajeel shot back, “You gotta work for the praise, Shrimp.”

She shifted with a heavy intake of breath, closing her eyes for just a moment to center her patience.  He showed no signs of leaving the nickname behind, which meant she might as well start to adjust to it.  I used to be tall.  When she opened her eyes again, she glanced around the room.  “So.  As simple you think it might be, we do need to figure out what’s killing people,” she said, taking another bite of her meal.  “We’re part of it now, and we’re stuck until we figure it out.

“And how do we do that?”

Levy smirked, twirling their key around her finger.  “We shack up here until the screaming starts.”