#blake prattles

[blakeyisbae]

…You know what, Lottie?

I’ll hear you out. @mydarlingdahlia

[chocobarsys]

We are soooo exhausted, drained, tired, you name it. Surgery really takes a lot out of you. It’s almost been a week post-op and we’re still so very tired and so hungry. I wish we had more food, but it is what it is.

That being said, we’re recovering fine. It’s just taking a while, which is expected. Just so hungry and tired.

Since this blog is fixed now, feel free to message us to keep us company while we’re healing!

-- Blake ㊙️

[electronicyarn]

A Different Shade of RWBY: Volume 2 - Chapter 32

RWBY - Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee

Read From the Beginning

Summary:

What if happily ever after was just the start of something greater? What if fate was waiting right around the corner? Nearly a year after circumstances brought Yang, Blake, Weiss, and Ruby together, sinister forces will seek to tear them apart.

Read on AO3 | Read on FF.net

Ruby had only been free for as long as it had taken to drive from Atlas Academy back to Weiss’s penthouse, but now she was trapped all over again. The moment she’d stepped through the penthouse’s front door, Yang had pounced on her and scooped her up into a crushing bear hug. Ruby’s feet were dangling helplessly in the air as Yang swung her back and forth, and her cheek was being squished against Yang’s shoulder.

Yang had been babbling nonsense from the moment she’d picked Ruby up, and she continued to prattle out an endless string of words. “I’m never going to let go of you again! Did you punch him? You should have punched him! I’m going to teach you how to punch! You’d better be okay! Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

“Yang...” Ruby wheezed. “Please stop….”

Ruby felt Yang’s arms start to loosen a little, but then she heard a new voice exclaim, “Miss Rose?! You’re alright!”

Ruby managed to swivel her head just enough to see that Rosalie was standing in the penthouse’s open front door which Ruby hadn’t had a chance to shut yet. Rosalie was looking relieved and overjoyed. She ran over to Ruby and threw her arms around her as well. Now pressed between two bodies, Ruby gave up any hope of ever escaping her new prison. She craned her neck, trying to find Weiss in the hope that she might be able to rescue her from her sister and Rosalie as readily as she’d rescued her from Jaune. Ruby did spot Weiss, but unfortunately, she was distracted talking to someone on her scroll.

Read More

[kylo-wrecked]

{ cont’d from ~here~ } “Then stop.”

It’s a soft command, a snake rising off its belly. Rodents did what Bellamy did. Squirmed to freezing. They, at the least, had the courtesy to stay silent in their petrification. Agent Blake here was all mouth.

“Should we make it look… different?” He asks in a glass throat. Swallows, tongue flicks. His voice a slow dripping dark molasses. “Will… that… comfort you?”

Kylo is nothing if not willing. There are many ways to look like a person, and all manner of personhood has been ascribed to him. This moon, today, they’re mushroom hunters. Next moon, tomorrow, they may be something else.

The hikers tread their way after all. In the interest of self preservation, the snake feigns death, feigns defeat. Moves his hand down Bellamy’s chest and grips him, thrusts him into bark. Places his mouth on Bellamy’s; their knocking jaws, lips, teeth stunning him where the glove wouldn’t.

Kylo and Bellamy become something else as the hikers near them, engaged in idle prattle about whether this is the right trail, whether there’s a river.

They pause before they trudge back up the gulch—perhaps these people think they’re affording them a delicious privacy. But Kylo’s mouth only presses to keep Agent Blake’s silent.

People don’t think deeply about the things they see in the woods. It is all feeling here. Expansive wonderings. Society stoops at the foot of the trees, in exultation and mourning. Kylo holds Bellamy by the collar, abandons him on a hot breath and the husk of birch, pungent, wood chipped corpse under his boot.

@protectmypeople

[ourpickwickclub]

This pics of GR and gf are so embarrassing 😬 No photographers in Mexico care about them or know who they are, this was so orchestrated. Her all over him while he sits there awkwardly, with her eye looking at the camera while she kisses him on the cheek in one. This and the random deuxmoi blinds about him and the People article “who is GR’s girlfriend” all point to her making a big effort to make them some kind of relevant topic. Yikes

He / they are trying so hard to be relevant and it is just super cringy and embarrassing. And narcissists always accuse their victims of their own actions, so I bet he prattles on to the boys about Blake and Gwen doing what he does.

- B

[lilithfairen]

Detailed thoughts on the latest Fixing RWBY episode?

So here's the thing about asking for detailed thoughts on the latest Fixing RWBY episode. It's shitty, as usual, and it's shitty for many of the usual reasons, but here's the real reason why this episode is shitty:

it is padding and filler as its absolute worst.

Let me summarize the episode:

Ruby and Nora are helping the Argus soldiers. This consists of Dee and Dudley (who are soldiers now, not the Huntsmen on the Argus train) prattling about their backstories. This segment has literally zero character or plot development for either Ruby or Nora. Celtic Phoenix cares more about two completely inconsequential male characters than the main heroine of the series.

Blake whines to Jaune about how her team has been written as a bunch of stupid, petulant idiots who can't get along because of being written by a misogynistic fucko like Celtic Phoenix. Jaune just tells her to talk to Ruby about it. Zero plot or character progress whatsoever, and another instance of Celtic Phoenix refusing to let female characters resolve their own problems without a man telling them how to do it.

A scene where Emerald (who of course got her ass kicked by Mercury) talks with Hazel and asks if they're doing the wrong thing, but Hazel says people who think they're doing the wrong thing aren't thinking far ahead enough. Like Celtic Phoenix, trying to write his rewrite.

Qrow talks to Maria about how they're both losers. Maria disses Qrow about his alcoholism, then has an entirely-out-of-nowhere flashback to how she lost her eyes. (And much like his rewrite of the Apathy sequence, this flashback is entirely incomprehensible if you aren't already familiar with canon!)

Nothing in this episode has any significance. It is quite literally an episode devoted to saying "hey, there will be character development maybe!" instead of, I don't know, having character development happen. It's blatant filler and padding, and nothing in this entire episode would make any difference if the episode didn't exist at all.

It makes me wonder if it's just Celtic Phoenix trying to bilk out as much money from his Patreon supporters by prolonging the series, which is especially vile given that the people who bring his series to "life" (in the same sense that Grimm are "alive") with music and art don't get paid a single penny by him.

(Bonus points: As I was about to load up the video, I realized that Celtic Phoenix went through the effort of painting Caroline Cordovin as eccentric and egotistical as she is in the actual show...which clashes completely with how she unquestioningly accepts Ruby's claims about the Lamp. It's another instance of how Celtic Phoenix's "rewrite" is just 90% ripping off the original show while not thinking about how his own 10% completely clashes with the canon characters and their motivations.)

[sleepykittypaws]

Breaking Down Hallmark’s 2022 Christmas Movies

Hallmark made their annual holiday movie mega-announcement yesterday and while I prattled on (and on) about it over on Twitter, and have already updated the 2022 TV Holiday Premiere schedule accordingly still, somehow, there is more to note, so here’s a breakdown by category, based on what we know so far, of the 43 ‼️ (40 coming October-December, 3 already aired during “Christmas in July”) new Christmas movies Hallmark is bringing us in 2022…

“Exotic” Locales (a.k.a. Vancouver, Canada isn’t doubling for small-town USA)

JOLLY GOOD CHRISTMAS (London) 📸

ALL SAINTS CHRISTMAS (New Orleans)

A BIG FAT FAMILY CHRISTMAS (San Fransisco)

THE ROYAL NANNY (Belgium)

MY SOUTHERN FAMILY CHRISTMAS (Ascension Parish, La.)

A ROYAL CORGI CHRISTMAS (Ireland)

It’s Bringing Christmas Magic

GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS ALWAYS

A KISMET CHRISTMAS  📸

A MAGICAL CHRISTMAS VILLAGE

A TALE OF TWO CHRISTMASES

A FABLED HOLIDAY

THE HOLIDAY STOCKING

FIVE MORE MINUTES: MOMENTS LIKE THESE

More than (Just) a Love Story

WE NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS

CHRISTMAS BEDTIME STORIES

OUR ITALIAN CHRISTMAS MEMORIES 📸

CHRISTMAS AT THE GOLDEN DRAGON

THREE WISE MEN AND A BABY

MY SOUTHERN FAMILY CHRISTMAS

A BIG FAT FAMILY CHRISTMAS

CHRISTMAS CLASS REUNION

FIVE MORE MINUTES: MOMENTS LIKE THESE

All About the Music (featuring original songs and/or a music-centered storyline)

ALL SAINTS CHRISTMAS

IN MERRY MEASURE 📸

WHEN I THINK OF CHRISTMAS

A HOLIDAY SPECTACULAR

A FABLED HOLIDAY

UNDERCOVER HOLIDAY

HANUKKAH ON RYE

The Christmas Sads (a.k.a. exploring grief at the holidays)

WE NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS

CHRISTMAS BEDTIME STORIES

THE GIFT OF PEACE 📸

Save the ______!

A COZY CHRISTMAS INN 📸

A MAPLE VALLEY CHRISTMAS

Note: This category, a Hallmark classic, is shockingly empty this season, as is the dreaded “let’s plan a party!” genre (admittedly, my least favorite)

A Grinch’s Heart Grows Three Sizes

NOEL NEXT DOOR

INVENTING THE CHRISTMAS PRINCE 📸

I Hate You, Now I Love You Romances (a.k.a. enemies to lovers)

NOEL NEXT DOOR 📸

IN MERRY MEASURE

HANUKKAH ON RYE

Old Flames Rekindled

A KISMET CHRISTMAS

A COZY CHRISTMAS INN

ALL SAINTS CHRISTMAS 

WHEN I THINK OF CHRISTMAS 📸

HOLIDAY HERITAGE

A Christmas Carol, but, like, with a Twist

GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS ALWAYS  📸

Oops, I’m Not Who You Think I Am (a.k.a fake relationship/identity)

THE ROYAL NANNY 

ALL SAINTS CHRISTMAS

LONG LOST CHRISTMAS

MY SOUTHERN FAMILY CHRISTMAS

A BIG FAT FAMILY CHRISTMAS

#XMAS  📸

UNDERCOVER HOLIDAY

Salute the Troops (a.k.a. military stories)

MY GROWN-UP CHRISTMAS LIST (aired in July) 📸

CHRISTMAS BEDTIME STORIES

Christmas with Royalty

THE ROYAL NANNY  📸

INVENTING THE CHRISTMAS PRINCE

A ROYAL CORGI CHRISTMAS

So, We’re Doing This Again? (a.k.a. sequels)

A COZY CHRISTMAS INN (to 2014's CHRISTMAS UNDER WRAPS)

TIME FOR HIM TO COME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS (5th in Blake Shelton-produced series that began with 2018's TIME FOR ME TO COME FOR CHRISTMAS) 📸

FIVE MORE MINUTES: MOMENTS LIKE THESE (to 2021's FIVE MORE MINUTES)

Now for Something a Little Different (a.k.a. movies not solely centered on white, straight, Christian Christmases)

CHRISTMAS AT THE GOLDEN DRAGON 📸

A BIG FAT FAMILY CHRISTMAS 

THE HOLIDAY SITTER

HOLIDAY HERITAGE

HANUKKAH ON RYE

A Slightly More Colorful Christmas (a.k.a. movies with at least one non-white lead)

CAMPFIRE CHRISTMAS (aired in July) 📸

WE NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS

JOLLY GOOD CHRISTMAS

GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS ALWAYS

ALL SAINTS CHRISTMAS

CHRISTMAS AT THE GOLDEN DRAGON

INVENTING THE CHRISTMAS PRINCE

A BIG FAT FAMILY CHRISTMAS

THE HOLIDAY STOCKING

UNDERCOVER HOLIDAY

HOLIDAY HERITAGE

Girl Power (a.k.a. female-directed films)

IN MERRY MEASURE

MY SOUTHERN FAMILY CHRISTMAS

#XMAS

A ROYAL CORGI CHRISTMAS

A BIG FAT FAMILY CHRISTMAS

A FABLED HOLIDAY 

THE HOLIDAY SITTER 

CHRISTMAS BEDTIME STORIES 📸

OUR ITALIAN CHRISTMAS MEMORIES

NOTE: Don't know directors for THE ROYAL NANNY, THE HOLIDAY STOCKING or HOLIDAY HERITAGE

"Plus Size" (by Hollywood standards) Female Leads

ALL SAINTS CHRISTMAS 📸

MY SOUTHERN FAMILY CHRISTMAS

UNDERCOVER HOLIDAY

How is this a Thing? (a.k.a. wackiest premise)

THE MOST COLORFUL TIME OF THE YEAR, a color-blind teacher turns to the parent of one of his students, an optometrist, for help seeing red and green 📸

And, finally, the Five Movies I'm Most Looking Forward To (What? That's a category!)

THREE WISE MEN AND A BABY

THE HOLIDAY SITTER 📸

MY SOUTHERN FAMILY CHRISTMAS

A HOLIDAY SPECTACULAR

A BIG FAT FAMILY CHRISTMAS

[kharonion]

!! 👀

Thank you!

Colt Blake (he/him) is the lawful sheriff of Primm -- or so he appointed himself to be. Deputy Beagle's lack of leadership really rubbed him wrong, and Colt wasn't about to sit by to watch the town crumble on itself. So, donning the western outfit from the museum he'd curated as a human, Colt stepped up to the task.

He tends to prattle on about... anything, really, and he's prone to veering into tangents. His accent -- a thick, raspy Southern drawl -- makes it more bearable. Though he gives off a commanding presence because he has to, Colt is pretty laid-back, using endearments for damn near everyone and usually wearing a smile.

With every “!!”, I’ll introduce an OC!

[reachingforthevoid]

Dr Who: Frontier in Space

I rewatched this serial on 18 February 2023, for the first time in a long time. I read the novelisation, called The Space War, back in the day so many times my copy fell apart. Despite its fragile state, it was the book that Jon Pertwee graciously signed for me at a day event at the University of Sydney in 1980. I recall him talking about how impressed he was by the Draconian costumes — a comment he made several times at various events. Anyway, watching Dr Who in order like I am, he was right. Their masks/make-up combo are impressive. The Ice Warriors come close but for just about every other alien or monster that’s not a robot, the rubber or latex masks don’t really work, especially with the colour serials.

We are immediately into the action with two white fellas piloting a cargo vessel that nearly crashes into the TARDIS! The Doctor is pleased with himself for materialising the TARDIS inside the spaceship, but it doesn’t take long before Jo sees something weird. She wants to leave, but the Doctor is fussing about getting exact dates. Then both Jo and the crewman suffer from delusions… It’s not too long before we see who is really behind the attacks. Ogrons — but who is behind them? Regardless of their identity, their intentions are clear: provocation of war between Draconia and Earth. Both sides are intractably committed to distrusting the other.

Meanwhile on an overcrowded Earth, hellbent on colonising other worlds and rubbing up against alien empires, politics is all about the Draconians and how they’re feared and not to be trusted. The Earth that we get to see is very similar to what appears in Blake’s Seven, that BBC series that starts a few years after this. There’s a woman president who wears striking frocks, and her military sidekick, who really ought to have an eyepatch. Dissent is dealt with harshly, even though it’s not a dictatorship, and they are way too fond of using torture (aka “the mind probe”).

It’s not too long before the Master turns up. I do love how he reads HG Wells’ The War of the Worlds while Jo keeps up the prattle to disguise the Doctor’s escape from prison cell number 268 of this serial. I note with sadness that this was Roger Delgado’s last appearance in the role — he died fifty years ago in 1973, aged 55. That’s the age I’m turning later this year. Blimey.

All in all, I enjoyed this serial. We get to see a little of the Draconians culture, and that of the Ogrons. There’s a few sweet moments where the Doctor and Jo share stories that both recap the last few years of the show’s history in its tenth year, and sketches out more of the Doctor’s origin story. The Master’s plotting isn’t complete daftness. The revelation of the Daleks at the end is splendid, as is the cliff-hanger into the next serial.

[howlingday]

Blake: You're powerful, Cinder, but nothing compares to the power Ommah!

Cinder: (Empowered by Ozma) Cease your inane prattle, you disgusting cat! Only a fool would not understand the full power of Ozma!

Blake: (Smiles)

Cinder: Oh, shi- (Zapped by lightning, Unempowered by Ozma)

[phoebe-delia]

Phoebe!! Would you do Blank Space by Taylor Swift? 💞💞💞

@colormehazelnut Hazel, it would be my pleasure!! Thank you for sending in these prompts. This is something I've been sort of mulling over in the back of my mind for a while.

“I make six figures,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “My boss says I’m an ‘up-and-comer.’”

Draco looked at Jason underneath his lashes, “Does he, now?”

Jason nodded solemnly. “Oh yeah, Dad’s really encouraging.”

“How wonderful,” Draco said, lifting a finger to lightly trace over Jason’s hand where it rested on the table and suppressing a smirk when he saw Jason shift in his seat. “You’ve such an important career; how does a man as successful as you stay so humble?”

Jason grinned, shrugging. “Comes naturally, I guess.”

“Wow,” Draco breathed. “You’re not like anyone I’ve met before.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Jason winked, and Draco forced a giggle, watching Jason’s eyes flash in excitement.

Jason was Lucius’s seventh attempt in his crusade to see Draco married and settled with a pureblood by the time he was 26. The first couple of blind dates had left Draco “outraged and disgusted,” as he’d complained to Pansy over the Floo. “Father won’t see reason. Merlin, it’s torture.”

Pansy’s mouth had twisted into a smirk. “Well, it doesn’t have to be.”

Draco’d furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“There are only so many eligible, gay, Pureblood men in Britain,” Pansy’d grinned. “Your father wants you to date these idiots to maintain your reputation. What if you make sure there’s no more reputation to uphold—one man at a time?”

After that, Draco found himself looking forward to these new dates. The arrogant, unsuspecting men would sit across from him, play footsie under the table, talk on and on about their money, and leer at him all the while. And Draco let them with a placid smile on his face.

But Michael, poor bloke, had run screaming from the Manor as Draco’d thrown the prat’s clothes out the window with a hearty Incendio. It was the only proper response to Michael’s derision of Draco’s “poncy outfits.”

And Jake—or was it Blake? Draco could never remember, much to Jake-Blake’s annoyance—had nearly cried when Draco’s taken a golf club to his precious Aston Martin. But he should’ve thought of that before insulting Draco’s golf swing.

Then there was Bret, who’d spent so much time on his mobile, texting Merlin knew how many other men, that Draco thought that the fish in the pond at the Manor might enjoy the device, too, since Bret shared their intelligence.

Now, Jason prattled on and on about his family’s “gorgeous, but understaffed house by the lake” and how the food at the restaurant was “palatable, but not as good as in Paris, have you ever been?”

Draco blinked wide, innocent eyes. “To Paris? Oh, no. I’ve never been. Maybe you could show me around? I’d need someone capable to keep me from getting lost.”

Jason smirked. “Of course, baby, I’d take good care of you.”

Draco let a slow, sultry smile stretch across his face. Yes, this was going to be fun.

__

“C’mon, baby, just tell me what’s wrong,” the man jutted out his lip into a pout.

Draco gave him a coy smile. “Who said anything was wrong?”

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand cover his thigh and a mouth close to his ear. “Hmm, a cutie like you here all alone? That can’t mean anything good.”

Draco held his breath. Three...Two...One…

The body next to him was suddenly knocked aside, and Draco looked up to see Jason, his eyes burning.

“Draco, what the hell!”

“Don’t you ‘Draco’ me, Jason!” He snapped. “While you were busy doing Merlin knows what—or who—in the loo for nearly thirty minutes, this bloke was keeping me company. If you don’t want me, you can just say so!”

Jason looked shocked. “Thirty minutes—I can’t have been gone for more than five!”

“Whatever it was, it was long enough for me to grow suspicious!”

“If you were so worried, why didn’t you go to the loo and see for yourself?”

“Because I, for one, didn’t want to see my fiancé fucking another bloke right in front of me!”

“Fiancé?!” Jason and the stranger said simultaneously, their expressions astonished.

Draco gasped sharply. “Are you seriously acting as if you never proposed to me?!”

“If I did I think I’d have remembered!”

“Wow!” Draco shook his head. “I knew you could be oblivious, but forgetting the best day of our lives is a new low, Jason.”

“But–you’re not even wearing a ring!”

“We said we’d get it in Paris!” Draco made his eyes well with practiced tears. “You said you wanted it to be perfect. ‘Only the best for my Draco, the love of my life!’ You said that, and I can see now that you didn’t mean it.”

He hopped off the stool striding out of the bar. He turned his head to see Jason staring at him, slackjawed.

Draco let one tear spill down his cheek. “Don’t contact me. Goodbye, Jacob.”

As he left the bar, he heard an incredulous, “IT’S JASON!!”

__

“No, no, we asked for the ‘74 Le Vu, not the ‘87 Le Fite,” Xavier scowled. He plucked the glass from Draco’s fingers and handed it and his own to the server. “Fix it,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Draco chanced a sympathetic look at the waiter, whose blank expression revealed that he had the patience of someone with years in the restaurant industry. “Yes, sir, my mistake. I apologize. One moment.” He turned on a heel, taking the rejected wine and used glasses and disappearing into the sea of tables.

“Honestly,” Xavier scoffed. “It’s impossible to get good service nowadays.”

Draco hummed in false assent. “That must be so taxing for you.”

Xavier sighed. “It’s just frustrating. You know, when I dine out, I expect a certain level of attendance from the waitstaff. I work hard for my money. I don’t need the added stress of an incompetent server who can’t do the simplest tasks,” he said, shaking his head.

“I know!” Draco exclaimed waving his hands wildly. “It’s insanity!” He said, making his gesture wider—just a bit more, and, “People can be so lazy!” He flung his arms almost across the table, finally knocking a glass of ice water into Xavier’s lap.

“Shit!” Xavier jumped from his seat, grabbing his napkin and drying his pants.

Draco let his lip wobble. “I-I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever, you idiot,” Xavier snapped.

Draco gasped loudly and rose from his seat, drawing eyes to their table. Perfect. “What did you just say??”

Xavier looked at him strangely. “I said ‘whatever.’”

Draco threw down his napkin. “Did you just call me an idiot?”

“What—no! I-”

“You’re a pig!” Draco reached over and slapped Xavier. A few scattered gasps rose from the other guests.

Their waiter came rushing over. “Is everything alright over here?”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “I was just going.” He turned and stormed off, leaving behind a sputtering Xavier.

__

The date with Louis lasted all of twenty minutes before Draco’d had enough.

He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t attend one more dinner with a man who looked at him like a pile of money or a piece of meat. He couldn’t flutter his eyelashes or give mechanical kisses or play dumb any longer.

He refused—Father and his inheritance be damned.

It was cowardly, he knew, leaving while Louis was in the restroom. But he didn’t have it in him to finish the dinner, nor to make a scene and cry and shout. And with the way Louis went on and on about how “the new Ministry is going to ruin this country,” Draco had a feeling it wasn’t going to work out, anyway.

He stepped out onto the street and raised his wand, feeling the familiar tug of Apparition take him to the apparition point closest to Muggle London. He walked along the cobblestone pathway in peace, taking in the sights of the city.

For the first time in months, Draco felt real, hot tears rise unbidden in his eyes. He didn’t bother to wipe them away, letting them cloud his vision. It was nice for a moment, allowing the world to go a bit fuzzy, until he tripped on an uneven cobblestone and fell to the ground.

His palms and knees stung from the impact, but he managed to keep from banging his head. He started to move to get up, despite his protesting knees, when a hand came into his vision, reaching down in front of him.

He took it, letting it gently pull him to his feet and causing his eyes to meet warm green ones that caused his heart to stutter.

“Malfoy—are you alright?” Potter said gently, taking in Draco’s red-rimmed eyes and cheeks.

Draco sniffed, willing his voice to stay even when he responded, “I’m fine, Potter. Just a rough evening. Thank you. Sorry to bother you.”

He turned to step past him when a firm hand clasped his arm.

“Wait, I–” Potter flushed lightly. “I want to talk to you.”

Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What are you playing at, Potter?” He said, a slight bite to his tone. “What game is this?”

Potter held up his hands. “No game, I swear. I just want to catch up.”

Draco studied Potter for a moment, taking in the earnest eyes and the beginning of a small, hopeful grin, and allowed himself the first genuine smile he could remember in weeks.

Yes, this was going to be fun.

I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Check my pinned post, pick a number 1--99, and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on the song that matches with that number on my list!

[blakeyisbae]

Anyways who’s gonna be the Morticia to my Gomez

[razorblade180]

Just a random thing I can’t get out of my head.

Blake:*struggling* Adam you have to stop this!

Adam:There you go again, prattling on again about peace. They deserve our hate!

Blake:Who are you to decide that!?

Adam:An actual victim! *knocks her down* It must be so damn easy to cling to morals when you still have it all to lose! You speak for us when you’ve never been us. Face branded, body beaten, parents slaughtered, stomachs empty, entire homes burned; when Blake!? WHEN HAVE YOU POSSIBLY LOST ANYTHING IN ALL THIS HATE LIKE THE REST OF US!? *trembling*

Blake:…

Blake:You, I lost you. *tearing up*

Adam:….No, you just finally stopped being blinder than me, and hated what was always there.

[champagneandparacosm-archive]

// @instant-angel-chaos

The city seemed to cling to his skin like a sickening disease. The hustle of everyday life. The people, the sounds, the stench. It was overwhelming to the recluse- a creature who preferred solitude than the many distracting sounds of the city. Not only did he live in the country for his own personal comfort and need for survival (food resources mainly-), but he also chose it for the quiet. Ears ringing- head pounding as the honking and chatter was nearly driving the beast insane. The world had become so much louder in the past century or so. So. much. noise. No one could shut the fuck up for more than five seconds out of the conditioned fear of not being heard. Who cared whether or not your child just did the cutest thing in the whole wide world? Odds were… it wasn’t that cute. No one wanted to hear about how you were late to work over a laundry mishap forgetting to switch the load into the dryer…. Also- something Blake hadn’t known until that morning- apparently there are two in one washer/dryers? It washes and then dries your clothes in the same machine? Because humans were so fucking lazy they couldn’t stand to go to their laundry rooms and switch the load? Jesus-fucking-christ… Blake needed to go back home.

  The tie he once wore was thrown into the back of his black Cadillac Escala; he couldn’t have tugged it off faster the moment he stepped out of the large revolving doors of his publicists building. Another strange concept inside the building, besides the stupid fucking sphere shaped doors you had to walk a circle to get through, was the elevator. Much more older than the washer/dryer combo but still a contraption that made Blake’s skin crawl as he stepped into it… his damned meeting just having to be convening on the thirteenth floor. The small tin box reminded the beast too much of his coffin- tensed as he had ascended the floors- painfully slow. And the prattling little infuriating jingle playing on repeat as he stood there? Just another show that humans couldn’t stand silence. He despised the day already… The meeting itself was painless- if you take out the fact that Blake had to meet in person in the first place. Ford, such a stupid name, knew Blake well enough to keep it short and sweet. They went over the release date of his newest novel adding to his saga of- well, he wasn’t sure how many he would write within this ‘lifetime’. He had so much history to sort through. So much content and not enough time nor energy. Winter was quickly approaching, and Blake wanted to push this book out before he went ghost- hibernated. He didn’t want anything to be on his plate for the early spring. He would be busy… with other things. The team settled on releasing the book in stores in a week. His media manager, because Blake refused to touch social media… don’t even get him fucking started on that piece of garbage, had been promoting the new book like crazy. Blake coil hardly get a cup of coffee this morning without being hounded by a flock of fans. Yes, he should be grateful… they paid for his house and nice extremities… but what the fuck? He just wanted a cup of goddamn coffee. Not to be asked a million little questions about the new book, having to plaster on a tight smile for twenty minutes… which made him late for his meeting by the way. ‘You’ll just have to wait and read the book-’ He would say as politely as he could manage, trying to slip back into his car. Next time he was getting a driver. He hated the fucking traffic. His head rested back against the seat, sighing softly as worked the top few buttons of his white shirt free. Air. The air was so stale in the city. It was also beginning to get colder, the beast already getting restless to begin to prepare. He needed to, yes, but he had been putting it off for the stupid book. Finalizations… printing covers and adjusting the artwork. Jesus, he was exhausted. He was about to turn the key into the ignition when his eyes filtered over a floral shop. Flowers. Fresh flora. His nose twitched, craving the scent of greenery. He had quite the drive back to his home… Fingers clasped over the handle, pulling it to let himself out- eyes carefully watching the road until he was allowed to pass, a herd of people following. Kept his head down, eyes shielded by dark sunglasses. His steps were enthusiastic, already catching wind of some of the product outside to entice people further into the shop. Blake’s chest rumbled pleasantly, the jingle of the bell at the door fueling his anticipation. And there it was… the overwhelming, euphoric scent of flowers. He took in a deep inhale, taking it in like a drug almost, wanting to cleanse himself of the cities foul scent. It was warm, welcoming with a right interior. His eyes shifted about his surroundings, long slender digits coming to remove the shield from his face, tucking his sunglasses into the breast pocket of his suit. 

[nerdwhoauthorinserts]

Just a ‘little’ love

Possible trigger warnings?: Copycat’s backstory (Contains death, alcohol, Brief suicide mention, Child abuse, Spouse abuse, Child neglect.), Loki’s backstory (More child neglect, Another suicide attempt (Letting go of the Bifrost), General Loki-isms.), Brief swearing, Some angst, Extreme romantic cheesiness.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romance, AU

Context/Synopsis:    In another Soulmate AU, Blake and Loki meet small versions of each other, known as ‘chibis’. Things just sort of... happen.

Characters featured: Copycat/Blake (Oh, honey look! It’s a wild S/I!) Loki Odinson (He’s a lean, green, lovin’ machine!) Thor Odinson (Who tf is Estrid supposed to be, Blake???) Austin Blackmore (Oh my god, he hasn’t shown up on this blog before?!)

Notes: -This soulmate AU was made by https://blubberingmess.tumblr.com/  (Which is a fic was sent to me by one of my off-tumblr friends and I thought the idea was cute, so sue me.) -Feel free to reblog, but please do not repost! -If you have any constructive critique, please share!

  It was expected for Thor to receive a chibi; he was to be the king, after all. For Loki, however, it was abundantly clear that many assumed he was destined to be alone.

  He didn't mind it that much, or at least, not at first. But as he became ostracized, the disrespect towards him seemed to grow, and his brother started to soak up more of the glory and love of their people? Loki began to see his lack of a soulmate as another example of the universe spitting in his face.

  Thor's chibi resembled none on Asgard. Every so often, she'd disappear and reappear, which Odin and Frigga discovered was a simple fact with Midgardians who were bonded to Asgardians. They died so quickly that they'd often go through several reincarnations before they even met. Though the chibis would appear in the form of the version they'd actually meet.

  Loki couldn't help but toy with Thor's chibi every so often, whom Thor named 'Estrid'. Using his magic to teleport the little thing into a basket on the other side of the room, chasing it around in cat form, among other harmless pranks like that. Every time Thor would confront him with the same adage of 'jealousy being no excuse to bully such a little creature'.

  Was it jealousy? Perhaps. But not for having a soulmate. It was everything, all the praise and adoration, even Thor being given credit for Loki's triumphs, while the mischief god was left with scraps. The simple 'soulmate' nonsense was nothing but salt in the wound, not the festering gash itself.

  One day, Loki sat in the library, and Thor came busting in. Estrid was sitting on his shoulder, as usual, as Thor chatted about something that happened during a sparring match with Balder that morning. Estrid turned, sliding down Thor's arm and onto the table, where she picked up a pencil and started to write something.

  Loki stifled a smirk as he subtly waved his fingers under the table, emitting a green glow as his magic took effect. Suddenly, the pencil disappeared, and Estrid fell face-first onto the table. She wasn't hurt, but it sure surprised the little chibi as Loki chuckled to himself.

  "Loki!" Thor exclaimed as he picked up Estrid and checked for any injuries.

  "Oh, come now, it's just a bit of fun." If Loki really wanted to hurt the chibi, he could easily. They had enough strength to rip nine-inch steel doors like tissue paper and magic capable of knocking a frost giant clear off its feet in seconds. Their pranks were never meant to harm anyone. They were for amusement, not cruelty.

  "That is no justification for bullying such a small creature." Loki rolled his eyes, glancing around the room as Thor prattled off. But, as he looked around, something caught his attention. It was another small creature on the other end of the table, as it ducked under a book left face-down and open. Loki raised a brow, "Brother, are you even listening to me?"

  Loki lifted his hand, making a motion with a finger, causing the book to lift up. Sitting there with wide eyes was another chibi, whose face turned bright red as soon as the book flipped over.

  The little chibi had black hair, wearing Midgardian clothing, though it was a bit strange. A modified hoodie with a symbol on the chest in the shape of a cat, a black mask, elbow and knee pads shaped like pawprints, knee-length boots with paw-like toes, etc.

  The chibi jumped to its feet as soon as it realized the book was lifted, and before either of the two Odinsons could say a word, it leapt away, suddenly taking the form of a cat. Loki didn't hesitate, suddenly appearing in front of the creature from a puff of green smoke before it could run out the door. The chibi stopped before he could run into Loki's leg, startled by their sudden appearance. The chibi fell over onto his back, changing into its humanoid shape.

  Loki used their magic again, teleporting the creature into their hand to get a better look. It was barely small enough to fit, and while it seemed nervous at first, it slowly relaxed as Loki looked it over. "Hmm... and just who do you belong to?"

  Loki glanced up as movement registered in their peripheral vision, only to see Thor, not even bothering to hide the massive grin on his face. Loki furrowed their brow but realized: that day was one of the last windows when their soulmate chibi could appear. They looked back at the chibi, who climbed up their arm and leapt to their shoulder with a warm smile.

  Thor finally laughed, "Well, at least now you can stop teasing Estrid!" Estrid giggled as well, only for a mug of ale to suddenly teleport over Thor's head, drenching Thor and his chibi in alcohol. "Loki!" After that day, Loki found himself just a bit more optimistic. Only a little, but that 'little' was enough.

  The chibi, whom Loki named 'Brynjar', seemed to always want to be near him. Every so often, it'd change into a cat, a crow, or even a chibi version of someone around them. A few times, he even turned into Loki themself. The chibi was always quick to help, to offer affection to them when Loki might've needed it, and to sit back and listen if Loki needed to vent about something. It couldn't speak, of course, but it was ready to sit back and listen to them at any moment.

  Meanwhile, Blake was deathly afraid of his chibi's arrival. He almost hoped they wouldn't, even. The prospect of having a soulmate terrified him simply because of his parents. They were soulmates, but the way they interacted, the way his father would constantly put his mother down? Theirs was a toxic love, and Blake was deathly afraid of being condemned to a similar fate. Whether he'd be the abuser, or the abused, it didn't matter; it was terrifying to him either way.

  But that mindset changed eventually, though only after his chibi appeared. After Blake's sister was kicked out, Blake felt more alone than ever. Blake sat alone at his bedroom window, simply trying to muster up some optimism. He found it funny how he could conjure that optimism easily when he was a kid, yet nowadays, it was a chore to try and pinpoint reasons to get out of bed.

  As Blake sat there, with his cat Austin curled up on his lap, he heard a squeak. Austin lifted his head, his ears perked up and alert. Blake turned toward where the noise came from and finally saw them. On the cat tree stood a chibi staring back at him, with slicked black hair, emerald green eyes, and a beautiful green and gold outfit.

  The chibi Loki was a bit taken aback by Blake's response. His expression fell to horror as he tensed up and stood quickly, trying to figure out what he should do. The little chibi, clearly recognizing Blake's discomfort, didn't bother to approach. Eventually, Blake just went to sleep. Blake avoided the chibi when he could. Instead of naming the chibi, Blake referred to it as 'the little dude'. The chibi Loki, being a Loki, felt not only confused but also...rejected. He was just avoiding them, and they didn't know why.

  The change in tune started after one of Blake's worst nights, the chibi alone in Blake's room, until he suddenly rushed inside, slamming the door behind him and sitting in front of it in panic. Not two seconds later, the lockless door was banged against. Blake's father started screaming for him to 'open the damn door, you bitch'. Blake barely managed to keep the door closed until the sound of splintering wood and a fearful yelp from Blake himself rang through the room. A crack appeared in the door, from where Blake's father had punched a hole on the other side.

  From behind the door, the three in the room could hear Blake's mother screaming for him to stop, only for a loud argument to suddenly break out. Loud crashing came from the living room after that, as Blake burst into tears, shaking uncontrollably and breathing so shallowly that he was getting light-headed.

  All the while, the argument in the living room dwindled with a loud crash, as Blake's mother could be heard sobbing while his father kept screaming. Then, a door slammed, and the cries from Blake's mother were the only sounds.

  Austin finally came running from his hiding spot, leaping into Blake's lap and nuzzling him comfortingly. The chibi, meanwhile, suddenly appeared as well, making Blake flinch. It was only getting that close when the chibi noticed purple marks around Blake's neck. Chibi's can't speak, but if they could, the chibi would've tried to talk Blake down. Instead, the chibi Loki hugged Blake's hand.

  Blake hesitated but shifted to tightly hug both of them as if they were his lifelines. Blake's shaking breaths, his trembling body, the tears running down his face, the chibi Loki finally understood why he was being so distant. Even after an hour of the two creatures comforting him, Blake still struggled to relax, making the little Loki worried.

  Finally, they let go of Blake's hand. Blake looked up at the chibi with confusion, his eyes pleading for them to stay, expecting them to just get up and walk away. But, the chibi held out its hands, placed side by side, and suddenly, Blake was amazed to see little fireworks shoot off from their hands.

  Austin swatted at one of them and bit at the air as he tried to catch the pretty illusion. The sight made Blake chuckle as he wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. Slowly, the gesture seemed to calm him, which made the little Loki smile back.

  "I guess I was wrong t-to avoid you like that," Blake muttered between sniffles, "S-sorry." The little Loki waved it off. Before long, the three hugged again; hot tears still dripped down Blake's cheeks every so often, but Blake was far calmer than he was before.

  Blake, very quickly, ended up being far more open toward the little Loki. Not just that, but he finally ended up naming the chibi 'Angel', though Blake meant to call them something else, 'Angel' just stuck.

  Blake's view on everything slowly changed, becoming somewhat brighter. Of course, it got worse before it got better, which led to a situation where Angel and Austin had to stop him from committing suicide, but Blake gradually climbed out of that awful pit of despair with their help. Blake even started trying to kick his less healthy habits and coping mechanisms, leading to him sneaking off to alcoholics anonymous meetings in new york.

  This sneaking-off is what ultimately led to him getting his powers.

  Every so often, Loki would find Brynjar in a bout of intense sadness, bordering on depression. In times like these, Loki learned it was a bad idea to leave it alone. Angel, meanwhile, had some bouts of mischief, as well as frustration. Blake loved their mischief as he found most of it funny. Blake was sure the anger was caused by something in his soulmate's life, so he dealt with it by doubling how affectionate he acted towards them, which usually helped somewhat.

  Finally, Thor was banished to Earth, along with Estrid. After everything that happened, Loki was on edge. They felt like any more stress would end up snapping him beneath the pressure. Things kept happening, with Loki finding out about their ancestry, hesitantly taking the Asgardian throne, and eventually letting go of the Bifrost.

  By the time the attack on New York happened, Blake was set to gain his powers, which caused Loki far more grief than he expected.

  Loki was transported to the helicarrier, where he would be kept until Thor could bring him back to Asgard. The Bifrost wasn't fixed, while the magic to teleport Thor on his own was far too much already. Brynjar was being kept in a clear box, as he'd tried to help Loki escape multiple times already.

  Loki didn't think much of some stranger behaviours it displayed at first. It shook its head a few times and swayed a little, but Loki assumed it was motion sickness. He was well aware of Brynjar's and, by extension, his soulmate's problems with that. But Loki quickly grew worried after the chibi fell to its knees, coughing. Loki tried to get up but was securely locked in place.

  Helpless, Loki watched as the chibi eventually fell on its stomach and turned to dust. Loki was speechless, even if they could've spoken, given the muzzle. When he was taken back to the helicarrier, Loki barely even registered the little jab Nick Fury made about him being surprised that Loki even had a soulmate.

  Meanwhile, Angel had just seen what happened, terrified. They bolted over to where Blake lay, his eyes fully open as he laid on his stomach, lifeless. Angel didn't know what to do, while Austin stood up, shaking off some of the mysterious red ooze. At first, the cat didn't think anything was wrong, padding over to where Blake was and jumping onto his back to get his attention.

  But Blake didn't move, and Austin realized he wasn't breathing, either. Austin stretched out a paw and batted at Blake's face. Blood seeped from his nose and mouth, and a gash in his skull leaked blood, too. Austin finally seemed to understand. Austin leapt from Blake's back and started frantically running around him, yowling loudly and meowing at the top of his lungs in an attempt to call out for help. Angel, meanwhile, had a hand resting on Blake's cheek as they started to cry.

  An entire day went by. But the next night, as Loki sat in that cell, mulling over everything that happened to them now that they were released from the mind stone's power. They heard a familiar 'squeak!' Like the sound of a dog toy.

  Loki spun around quickly, and there he was, rubbing his eyes and letting out a yawn. Meanwhile, Angel had refused to leave Blake's side, even to the morgue in the hospital. But, as Angel sat near the bodybag Blake was being kept in, he heard a muffled groan from inside. Angel didn't hesitate, taking the zipper and opening it up to find Blake, who flinched at the bright light in the room. "Ugh, this is worse than my first hangover." Blake muttered, only to be immediately hugged around the neck by his chibi.

  Blake was escorted home that night and discovered he had powers by morning. Shapeshifting, primarily. But found his cat had powers now, as well, having gained human intelligence and psychic abilities. "You didn't happen to gain anything new, did ya, Angel?" Blake joked. But very soon after ended up being discovered by SHIELD.

  With some prodding from Austin, the three went off to the helicarrier, Blake and Austin looking to become agents.

  Loki was retrieved by a few armed gunmen, being transported so Thor could finally take them to Asgard once he arrived. That was when Loki and Blake finally met, as Loki turned the corner in a corridor, and their eyes locked. Angel and Brynjar saw one another too, but the circumstances made it impossible to meet, so they had to move on.

  Blake nervously met with Thor when he arrived, but as soon as he could, he broke away as Thor tried a friendly catch-up with Steve and Tony.

  Blake and Loki saw each other again, as Blake, in disguise, helped break Loki out of his containment. By the time they finally touched the grass of Central Park, Brynjar and Angel eagerly leapt to the ground and embraced one another.

  Blake chuckled. "Are we supposed to do that too-?" Blake meant that as a joke but found himself in that exact scenario. Blake was frozen for a moment, but settling into Loki's arms and returning the embrace came as easy as breathing.

  "Oh, how long I've been waiting for you," Loki muttered.

  "It feels like forever." Blake finished for them.

[coeurdastronaute]

Christmas: Day 33

maybe possibly continue the thanksgiving/christmas of clarke and lexa with it being their second christmas together and they do their own thing and attend new years party or maybe do the new years right after the thanksgiving/christmas story

Day 32

Even with the sludge and the general slush that was the busy streets in the winter, the car crunched its way down familiar streets toward the opposite side of town, departing the high rises of the downtown skyline and instead running for the wide open grey sky, plump with snow and the promises of a very, very white Christmas. Dressed in its best holiday attire, the city was brimming with cheer; lights hung from every tree, ornaments from every street light, balconies were glistening with the vast array of different decoration choices, and most importantly, tiny snow men appeared in tiny yards and parks and playgrounds, waving away the old and welcoming that sense of joy that seemed to creep in despite the chill in the air. 

The car was steaming, the heat pumping through the vents at a prodigious rate that made the inhabitants begin the slow process of taking off parts of their layers between stop lights and signs. Outside it was below freezing, but the cab of the vehicle was stifling in the way that only a car can be during the holidays, pumping in good spirits despite all else. 

“Are you really nervous?” 

“No… no. No, no,” Clarke shook her head as she put on the confident air she’d perfected throughout her life. 

“You already know Anya,” Lexa promised, seeing through it instantly, knowing that she had to offer a few extra words of encouragement to make it real, to put some weight behind the faux demeanor. “You’ve known her longer than you’ve known me.” 

“I work with her, but it’s not like we work together. We’re in vastly different departments. I don’t see her other than when we have dinner together.” 

“We’ve been dating for nearly three years. You know her plenty.” 

“I know. And I’m not nervous,” she shrugged. 

Lexa reach across the middle and held her girlfriend’s hand, easing her into it. It wasn’t lost on the lawyer that her girlfriend was nervous to spend the holiday without her family, nor that she was always a little nervous around Anya. For Lexa, there were no other options. She had to make a good impression on the only sister, the only living family member. She dreaded the thought of having to impress just Clarke’s mother or father or friends. She understood the pressure. 

“I’m excited we get to spend the holiday with my family this year,” Lexa decided to try a different tactic, attempting to lighten the mood. “It’s going to be great. And we can teach them how to make proper hot chocolate and such.” 

“I’m excited, too.” 

“Your mom wasn’t too hurt that I’ve stolen you for the holidays?” 

Clarke pulled Lexa’s hand to kiss it before looking out the windows again as the snow flurry picked up once more. 

“She understood. She was just excited we agreed to New Years with them.” 

“I can’t believe she was okay with inviting Anya and the gang up for the party. It was very cool of her.” 

“Well, you know Abby,” Clarke shrugged. “Always trying to be the hippest mom on the block. Plus, Dad really wanted to validate his transforming the shed to a guest house.” 

“House is generous.”

“Don’t tell him that,” she chuckled and agreed. “He worked very hard.” 

“I know,” Lexa grinned. “He sent me all kinds of updates. I think he was trying to separate us when we visit.” 

“Fat chance.” 

“We’re quiet, right?” 

“Very,” Clarke nodded before pondering it a little more. She decided to get that thought of her head immediately. 

“Well, I can safely say that Anya appreciated the gesture of including the whole family together, and they never get to go anywhere or go to adult parties. She’s probably more excited about that than about us coming for Christmas.” 

“My mom loves having kids running around the house. It works out so well. Why haven’t we thought of it sooner?” 

“I had to get you to date me for real, first.” 

“Shut up,” Clarke rolled her eyes, pinching her girlfriend’s bicep. “It wasn’t that hard.” 

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that.” 

“I’m not having this fight with you again.” 

“Yes dear,” Lexa smirked, lolling her head back toward the road as Clarke rolled her eyes once more and sighed, smiling through it despite herself. 

The car made its way across town as the streetlights came on. All of the creatures that would have been stirring quieted. Little faces pushed themselves against the cold glass of the windows and searched the sky for a sight of the sleigh. Christmas Eve settled atop the world with a sense of impending joy and a crackling warmth that kept all of the houses nestled safely on their streets. 

The intersection before her sister’s house, Lexa kissed her girlfriend’s knuckle and tucked her hand closer to herself, satisfied with her life and that she was someone who had many places to be for Christmas. A surge of love flushed itself through her system, and it went away just as unexpectedly, leaving behind a residue of warmth. 

“I love you, you know?” she asked her girlfriend who hummed along with the Christmas music on the radio. 

“Yeah, duh.” 

With a contented smile, Lexa let her head rest against the seat in the car as the warmth blew at the snow that clung to her boots. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Much like her own home for the holidays, the dining table at the Blake household was vibrant and alive, absolutely overflowing with bodies and hands and forks and delicious smelling food steaming at the windows and voices talking over each other to fill their plates and begin the sacred tradition of a Christmas Eve dinner. 

“We do the big dinner tomorrow,” Anya promise as she finished making a plate for her youngest daughter who slapped at the high chair, full of mirth and excitement. “But Chinese has been a Christmas Eve tradition since we were kids.” 

“This is absolutely better than anything I could have imagined,” Clarke promised, angling for a box of lo mein. 

“Our mom burned an entire dinner in some fashion their first Christmas together,” Lexa explained, handing out egg rolls to her niece and nephew and girlfriend. “Before we were even born. And every year, my parents just kept ordering.” 

“When I first got married, I debated the tradition.” 

“But I insisted,” Bellamy grinned from the head of the table. “Because it meant we got to spend the entire day having fun instead of cooking.” 

“And Lexa all but refused to eat anything else.”

“It’s a sacred tradition,” she shrugged, earning a look from her girlfriend. “I’ve been known to be stubborn from time to time.” 

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear you admit it,” Clarke taunted. 

“That’s your Christmas gift.” 

“I wanted to cook this year, but believe it or not, Lexa insisted again that I not change anything for you.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” she promised. “I can’t imagine a better dinner.” 

“And after we get to watch Christmas movies,” Madi explained as she worked her fork around her plate, doing her best. She was the spitting image of Lexa, and Clarke felt that aching kind of twinge to see her girlfriend with the mini-versions of herself. “And eat cookies and leave some for Santa and we got carrots for the reindeer.” 

“Oh wow. I better save room.” 

“I always try,” Lexa shook her head. “But all we do is eat for the holidays. There’s never enough room.” 

The frenzy of family slowed as everyone went about the arduous task of eating absolutely delicious food and savoring each other’s company. The baby made a mess, much to Lexa’s enjoyment, while the twins excitedly prattled on about their gifts and Santa and the movies and everything they wanted to do during their winter break. 

Somewhere between all of it, Clarke found herself swept into Lexa’s family, beaming at how happy her girlfriend seemed to be, to be a part of such a moment, to have a certain pride in having someone to share it with. It was as intoxicating as the wine that Anya freely and eagerly shared. 

The holidays at the Griffins were decidedly missing something in the form of tiny people who still had enough magic in them to appreciate the mystery of the time of year, and Clarke hadn’t thought to miss it until dinner on Christmas Eve. 

Lexa gingerly added more to Clarke’s plate, sharing her order of chicken and explaining eagerly how it was the best of all time, pulling Clarke back from her reverie.All Clarke could do was smile and dig into the new traditions. 

XXXXXXXXX

The noise came in the form of tiny feet pounding down the hallway, giggling and excitedly whispering past the room. Lexa shifted in her sleep, stretching slightly to tighten her grasp on her girlfriend. She enjoyed the warmth of the body beside her, she enjoyed her smell mingling with the familiar smell of her sister’s spare room, she even enjoyed the feeling of Clarke’s body relaxing into her own chest as she fought against waking. Lexa kissed bare neck and dug her nose into the shoulder of Clarke’s old flannel shirt. There was something wonderful to wake like that, and she knew it. 

“Merry Christmas,” Clarke whispered, tugging Lexa’s arm impossibly closer. 

“Merry Christmas, beautiful. Are you ready for presents?” 

“You’re worse than the kids.” 

“I never claimed any different. What’d you get me?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Do you want to know what I got you?” Lexa murmured, hand shifting slightly along her girlfriend’s stomach. 

“Kind of,” Clarke grinned but kept her eyes shut, her hips moving slightly against Lexa’s lap. 

The instant her fingertips dipped into sweatpants, the knock echoed against the door as the tiny feet made their way with great speed, back toward the Christmas tree and pile of presents. 

“You’re the one who wants kids,” Clarke reminded her girlfriend as she rolled over to kiss her cheek, earning a huff as the warmth escaped the bed. “Come on. Let’s go see what Santa brought.”

“But… we have a tradition,” Lexa pouted, head hiding in a mess of hair and pillows and sheets. 

“Sex on Christmas isn’t a tradition. It’s coincidence.” 

“Come back to bed. I can give you a quick coincidence.” 

Hopeful and smirking, she stretched across the bed to try to snag a loop in the robe Clarke put on before grasping only at air. 

“Morning Lex, Clarke. Merry Christmas. The heathens are waiting for you to open presents,” Anya called, her voice disappearing as she went down the stairs. “I’m making coffee.” 

“Looks like we have all new traditions this year,” Clarke teased, tugging a defeated girl out of the bed with a heave, though Lexa refused to make it easy. “I’ve been known to coincidence any time on Christmas though.” 

“What a coincidence, me too,” Lexa grinned. 

“Come on. Presents.” 

“We’re staying home next year. I don’t care what anyone says.” 

“Let me quote you on this in about ten months.” 

“Shut up.” 

XXXXXXXXXXX

The table was set, the candles lit, the plates perfectly ordered with properly placed silverware and fancy wine glasses. Despite the uproar of the kids playing with their toys and trails of wrapping paper throughout the house, the dining room ws expertly set and full of mirth and delicious smelling food. Gone were the flannel pajamas, and in its place were velvet dresses and ties, as everyone dressed up for the meal and friends arrived to partake, stretching the house at its seams with bodies and warmth. 

The evening fell quickly, with the lights and candlelight glimmering amidst the voices and happiness of old friends and children itching their collars. 

Clarke understood why Lexa said she liked Christmas Eve dinner the best with her family. It felt like a home in a different way than the giant, conventional feast of acquired family members. Christmas Eve, Clarke imagined, was what Lexa imagined her parents would have loved. Christmas was completely for them, their own developed tradition of a beautiful, dimly lit dinner with their closest friends, the found family that kept them alive for so long. 

When dinner was called, Clarke found her seat beside her girlfriend and smiled before earning a kiss against her temple while Bellamy’s parents started the applause as Anya brought out the main course followed by some friends with sides. 

“I’m going to grab the wine,” Lexa whispered after helping push in Clarke’s chair. 

In just a few minutes, everyone was seated and waiting for the items to start passing, but Clarke noticed the absence of her girl. When she looked around, she caught Lexa leaning against the doorway, just watching, two bottles of wine in her hand. Unsure of how long she’d been there, Clarke watched Lexa watch the family, and she felt the warmth of the season, she felt the burning of her adoration, she fell in love. 

When Lexa caught her eye, she straightened slightly before smiling quite sheepishly and offering a shrug. Clarke just gave her a wink before thanking Anya’s college roommate for passing the potatoes. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

New Year’s was no different than Christmas at the ancestral Griffin household. The trees and lights remained up, festive for the final time of the year, while fancy tables and candles all around, the tables and the food and the people mingled about. It was a full house, with friends and family taking their time getting reacquainted. 

From the moment Anya met Mr. and Mrs. Griffin, Lexa felt a warmth, a certain level of family that she couldn’t remember feeling in her entire life. She adored the Griffins. She loved spending time with Jake, as he fiddled in the garage and they escaped Clarke and her mother. Hell, Lexa even enjoyed helping Abby cook and chatting about the newest restaurants. And it sent her over the moon to see Clarke with Anya, so much that they even got coffee together and often saw each other more than Lexa saw her sister. 

But during the New Year’s Eve party, all of the world’s combined. Anya was sitting in the living room with Clarke’s childhood best friend. Bellamy and Jake were manning the bar, willingly filling the rest with spirits. 

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Clarke whispered, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist, her chin on her shoulder. 

“Just happy.” 

“Normally you get chatty when you’re happy. You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Lexa promised before kissing her girlfriend’s temple. “Just very, very, very happy.” 

“So, do you want to go make out in the garage for like ten minutes or…” 

“Can I steal her?” Raven interrupted, snagging Clarke’s arm. 

They were gone before Lexa could argue. 

Nervously, she toyed  at the box in her pocket, rubbing the velvet between her fingers. She couldn’t concentrate on much else, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to form words. Every time she tried to remember, her mind went blank. 

She refilled her glass of wine and earned a smile from Jake, amused and sympathetic. She watched Clarke and Raven moving through the crowd and felt the warmth and she was almost ready. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“Why do we have to go outside?” Clarke shook her head, tugging on her coat as Raven put hers on as well. “It’s almost midnight, and I have a kiss to give. I’m all booked up.”

“I want to show you my new car before the fireworks anyway.” 

“Did they add some budget to the fireworks this year?” she chuckled, afraid to acknowledge that the fireworks were barely visible from the town square. 

“It’s all anyone’s been talking about for months.”

“You’ve got to get out of this place.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Raven chuckled. 

The Christmas lights remained on every house on the block, completely illuminating the night and twinkling in the leftover feeling of mirth and joy, hoping to prolong the world a bi longer, to embrace the frigid cold and beautiful, pure snow, and cast off the cynicism that was inevitable within two months. It was the night of firsts, the night of new, the night of beginning and ending, all at once, a sadness for what was lot and a reverence for what was to come, the door of possibilities open wider than ever or any other day. And the Christmas lights remained, a beacon on every eave, a galaxy amidst winter’s distress, ushering in time and the striking of clocks. 

The pair walked along the shoveled driveway as Clarke surveyed her home and her old neighborhood. She seemed to remember every branch, exactly as it was, so that even when she was away, her mind knew how they grew, so there was never a change, all remained intact. 

“Shit,” Raven sighed, her breath clouding up in the cold. “I forgot my keys. Just… I’ll be two seconds.” 

“It’s freezing. Can’t I just see it tomorrow?” Clarke sighed. 

“Just hang tight. It’s not midnight yet.” 

Suddenly alone in front of her childhood home, Clarke looked into the windows, watching from a new vantage point the life that was being lived inside. She wondered if Lexa’s habit of voyeurism was rubbing off on her. There hadn’t been a time she remembered taking these moments to look and listen and see, more importantly. But now, Clarke paused and watched, like a movie at the drive in. 

When the door opened again, when the noise from the party grew louder and then dissipated again, Clarke looked to see her girlfriend appear instead of her friend. 

“Thirty seconds left in the year, and I was afraid I was getting stood up,” Lexa smiled, shivering in the cold. 

“I would never. Raven made me come out, but I’ve lost her, it seems.” 

“Sounds like Raven.” 

“Well, you’re here now. Care to usher in a new year with me, Woods?”

Clarke cocked her head to the side as she wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s neck. Lexa’s arms moved around her waist in the familiar pattern they’d developed. Inside, the noise seemed to die down as the count began for the final seconds of the year. 

“There is absolutely no where else I’d rather be.” 

Clarke couldn’t wait, leaning forward to kiss Lexa one last time and for the first time as time existed beyond them. The cheers and confetti erupted in the house and the fireworks boomed in the distant, barely visible beyond the roofs across the street. 

“Happy New Year,” Clarke whispered, her cheeks blushing with the cold and the kiss. 

“Happy New Year,” Lexa returned, not even opening her eyes but smiling nonetheless. 

“We should go inside.” 

“Just one more minute.”

Even with their foreheads pressed together, Clarke nodded and closed her eyes as well. She felt Lexa’s hands toying with her coat, and she felt her breathing warm the space between them. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Lexa nodded again.

“You’re shivering. Let’s go in.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she nodded again. “Wait. No. I don’t want to go inside yet.” 

“But your--”

Lexa pulled away slightly, but she didn’t move. She furrowed and gulped, afraid to look at her girlfriend’s face. It flashed gold and green and blue and red and gold again with the display. 

“I love you.” 

“I know. I love you too,” Clarke promised. 

“I need you to not say anything for like thirty seconds, okay?” Lexa waited until she earned a nod. “Okay. I love you. I knew I was in love with you the very first Christmas we spent together, and the very first year you kissed me on New Years. I love the life you’ve given me, and I love the person I naturally am when you’re here.” 

Clarke watched the movements happen, she couldn’t quite understand it, despite knowing what it all meant. She watched Lexa dig into her pocket. She watched the little black box appear as Lexa knelt on one knee in front of her. 

“I’ve fallen so entirely in love with you, that I want to spend the rest of my life, my holidays, my new years, my old years. I want it all with you. And I was wondering if you would marry me?” 

Lexa stared back at her girlfriend and gulped again, her heart entirely stopping for the duration of what felt like an entire lifetime. 

But words didn’t come, just Clarke pouncing forward and hugging Lexa’s neck so tightly she thought she might break it right there. But she nodded and nodded and hugged so fiercely she couldn't entirely nod. And when that failed, she kissed her. 

The crowd that formed near the door and windows yelled and clapped, though neither noticed. 

“I love you so much,” Clarke mumbled, unable to breathe or see or talk or do anything other than exist in a state of pure bliss. 

“Good. Be mine forever?” 

“Of course.”

NEXT