#this is any version but these are the best two

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

The Oscars are this weekend!

(Here's last year's version of this poll, if you're interested!)

[petermorwood]

They could have called them pelmeni chinois or maultaschen chinois except it turns out there's an actual regional and very old French dish called Ravioles du Dauphiné.

They're stuffed with Comté cheese, fromage blanc, eggs and parsley.

So, ravioles chinoise - with the -es spelling, anyway - isn't a deliberate avoidance of English (well, not just that) but might, just might, have been adapted from a legitimate though rare French term.

Because compared to the rest of the world, French cookery is quite remarkable in its dumplinglessness. (That's a word now...)

It has quenelles, the best-known of which are traditionally made from fish (pike) but also from cheese...

.... and are like German liver dumplings (Leberknödel) to the extent that "Knödel" may even be the origin of "quenelle".

This name-change is rather like the way the French word for insubstantial nibbles or "little somethings" - quelquechoses - became "kickshaws" in English, as seen here in Shakespeare's "Henry IV Part II":

"Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook."

The only other thing I could find being called a "dumpling" is the "farz" part of kig ha farz, an even more regional Breton treatment using an egg-butter-milk-buckwheat batter tied in a bag then cooked in the same pot as - and served with - pot-au-feu.

It may look like a dumpling when bagged, but when plated it looks like haggis. That crumbly texture means it's sometimes called couscous breton, and it's dressed with a buttery, oniony, sometimes bacony sauce called lipig (which, inevitably, I keep misreading as Lipwig...)

However farz is also made with white flour, and that version isn't crumbled but sliced like so...

...and sometimes fried, like King Arthur's bag-pudding.

Pudding, BTW, is another language-swap, originally from French "boudin", meaning a sausage - Irish / UK black and white pudding and French boudin noir and boudin blanc are definitely related.

The word then broadened meaning into something cooked inside a casing (a haggis is the "great chieftain o' the pudding race") or a bag / cloth, where the old method of cooking Christmas pudding isn't too far from what's done with kig ha farz.

As for King Arthur...

When Good King Arthur Ruled This Land A Nursery Rhyme When good King Arthur ruled this land, He was a goodly king; He stole three pecks of barley-meal To make a bag-pudding. A bag-pudding the king did make, And stuffed it well with plums; And in it put great lumps of fat, As big as my two thumbs. The king and queen did eat thereof, And noblemen beside; And what they could not eat that night, The queen next morning fried.

As far as I could find out before deciding it was the "looking for a black cat in a darkened coal-cellar and BTW the cat isn't there" thing - ravioles, quenelles and possibly farz are the only French examples of what this Wikipedia link lists as a "dumpling".

If there IS some obscure or forgotten French regional dish which would qualify as le domplén Normande, la boulette de pâte or whatever, I'd love to know.

Accidentally called dumplings "Peking ravioli" in front of my New Jersey coworkers and I had to frantically explain that this wasn't some insane form of esoteric Italo-Chinese racism, that's just what they're called in Boston. Had to take a picture of a menu to prove it.

[ryuucam]

C U GIRL!

⋆｡𖦹°‧ desperate men as exes who want u back ^_^ including toji && nanami

contains open ending (me personally i’d fold) (don’t do this irl), suggestive, drinking (toji) emotional unavailability, poor communication, brief non sexual nudity (nanami) you’re the one breaking up with them!!

notes everybody say thank u to my ex bc he wont stop dming me on ig and inspired me to do this (leave me alone)

TOJI FUSHIGURO

breaking up with him was not an easy choice. not because you were in a long term relationship - it was more like occasional hook ups and stay at home dates - but because toji can get clingy, angry, irrational. you’re not afraid of him, but alas, he is a bomb waiting to explode, and you really don’t want to tick him off. when you do break up with him, you do it over text, immediately blocking his number after. you keep telling yourself it’s the best choice. he’s no good for you, and you’re just protecting your peace. you don’t hear from him again, and in a few weeks you already put this all behind you.

toji is devastated. he wants to scream (he did that), to punch a hole in the wall out of sheer frustration and anger (he did that, too) - he’s not angry at you though, of course not. how could he? you’re so sweet, always caring for him, despite him only ever seeing you for occasional sex and cheap beer. he should’ve seen it coming: you deserve better than this. so really, toji can’t bring himself to hate you. instead, he drinks himself half to death, much to shiu’s dismain, spending most of his time cooped up in a small bar, scrolling through the blurry, messy pics of you on his phone.

while you’re healing (you’re not: you miss him just as much, but your pride is too big to handle), toji downs beer after beer, hoping to numb whatever feelings he still has for you (shame: he’s ashamed of himself. that’s why he hasn’t shaven his stubble, hasn’t trimmed his hair, hasn’t taken up any more jobs). a month, maybe two, after your break up, shiu can’t take it anymore. he’s losing clients, and he sure as hell isn’t going to be babysitting a grown man any longer. so, he shows up to toji’s small apartment (he isn’t used to staying there. your place is much comfier), and gives him a pep talk, telling him to just get his shit together, for fuck’s sake, toji just lays on his couch, barely registering his friend’s words, but he really is sick of moping around, doing nothing. something awakens in him (maybe it’s just a sense of responsibility, ever heard of that?), motivating him to clean himself up, look for his last 20, 30 bucks and getting out of the house for what feels like the first time in ages.

meanwhile, you’re at home, unaware that you’re mirroring toji’s behavior. sprawled on your couch, scrolling through your past texts and photos, chewing on your lower lip. this is all for the best, you remind yourself. so why are you sobbing your eyes out over a man who hasn’t even reached out to you? sure, you’ve blocked him, but it’s not like you would’ve minded seeing him under your balcony, asking for an explanation. it is toji you’re talking about, though. you should’ve never lead him on like that, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten so hurt over a bare-minimum kind of dude.

your train of thought gets interrupted by the ring of your doorbell. you groggily get up - it’s probably just a delivery guy. you don’t bother fixing up your appearance in the mirror (you’d just be met with a more hollow version of you, hair messy and eyes swollen). when you open the door, however, you’re met with toji’s sturdy chest standing right in your face. wait, toji? you look up, only to find his grey eyes staring right back at you, a frown on his face. he’s holding a bouquet of tulips (by the looks of it, way out of his budget), and he can’t seem to still himself.

“‘m sorry.” his voice breaks the silence. “for not comin’ here sooner. and for treatin’ you like shit.”

it’s not much, but this is the first time you’ve ever heard toji mutter an apology - a sincere one at that. your heartstrings are tugging at your chest, screaming at you to do something. you can’t do anything, vision blurred with tears you barely notice. toji is still: too afraid to move, too afraid to scare you off again. he doesn’t have to move though, because you throw yourself in his arms a few seconds later.

“you’re an asshole.” “i know, ya don’t have to forgive me, i-“ “leave me alone for now.”

so toji leaves, and comes back the day after, a new bouquet in hand. you kick him out again, and he shows up again. relentlessly. he knows he looks like an idiot, but he’s willing to stay as one if it means getting to see you. how longer can you stay mad at him?

NANAMI KENTO

after a year or so of dating nanami, he started getting comfortable with you - which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, given that he’s rather stiff most of the time, but makes him go back to his usual ways. he doesn’t hurry to get back home, doesn’t stop to get you “just because” flowers and gifts, doesn’t cuddle up with you on the couch anymore. he’s irritable, closed off, but maybe that’s just how he truly is. of course, he never raises his voice at you, but he never stops for idle conversations and such. so, after countless nights spent crying in your friend’s arms, you decide to take her advice, and just break up with him.

you do it after he’s had a long week at work, after he came back home at midnight again, barely caring enough to send you a quick text of notice (he doesn’t see anything wrong with this: you should’ve known his habits by now). you’re waiting on the couch, legs crossed and fidgeting with your hands. he takes off his shoes (he doesn’t even call out for you anymore), and makes his way in the living room. nanami asks you why you’re still up (he still cares about you), and you just look at him. “i want to break up”. he doesn’t fight - how could he?, and he just nods. he sleeps in the guest room, cold and empty, while you toss and turn in the main bedroom.

by the next day, you’re gone, and so is all the warmth left in your shared home. nanami keeps showing up at work in pristine condition, suit ironed to perfection and a neat lunchbox prepared, working full hours almost every day of the week. on his days off, when yaga literally kicks him out of the school, he doesn’t know what to do. nanami sits at the dinner table in his kitchen, arms crossed and staring into the void, not knowing what to do. a few months ago, he’d spend his days off at home with you, watching movie after movie, with you in his arms kissing him all over his face, room filled with giggles and hushed “i love you”s.

it’s over now though, and nanami isn’t a man too keen on reminiscing his past. maybe it’s time to change his habits. he knows they’re the reason you left him, and he’s very well aware that he isn’t perfect. he sighs, tangling his hands in his hair (just a few weeks ago, you’d do the same thing when you showered together. saving water, you said, but he knew better: he still humored you). his phone lights up, and he jolts out of his seat to grab it, even if the rational part of him knows you won’t do that. you have no reason to do so. he’s right, of course, but the way the threw himself at his phone made him hyper aware of how pathetic he truly is.

meanwhile, you’re in your old apartment, tearing the whole place apart. it’s a saturday evening (nanami and you used to go out for dinner on saturdays), and you’ve been waiting the whole week to do a self care night. all your products are sitting patiently on your bathroom sink, all except for that damn clay mask you bought yourself a few months ago, used once, and then forgot about it. after emptying all of your cupboards, drawers, pouches, it’s still nowhere to be found. suddenly, you feel an imaginary light bulb lightning up. you can’t actually have left that at kento’s place (your old home), right? when you left, you triple checked everywhere for your belongings. but still, you’re not going to waste money on an overpriced face mask. so you swallow your pride and drive over to his house.

it’s not like he’ll tell you no (he didn’t say that even when you broke up with him). you knock on his front door, suddenly feeling embarrassed about being here. when nanami opens the door, he feels like fainting (did he manifest you? no, he doesn’t believe in those things). “oh, hi”, you both say at the same time. your eyes are wide open, and he feels his heart rate quickening by the second. as you mutter about the reason of your visit, you can’t help but notice your face heating up, and the way he’s just so docile, so attentive while he accompanies you to the bathroom to look for.. well, whatever’s that you need. you don’t remember.

when you’re about to leave, nanami speaks up. “i’m sorry for spending so much time at the office. i know it’s my fault for the break up. but i can’t deny that i still love you. please, let me try to win you back.”

you turn around, taking in how soft his expression looks, how deep his eye bags run, how in love he looks. will you let him back in your heart? he swears he’s a changed man.

[juniperskye]

Stolen Moment

Based on the following ask: I was thinking it was Hotch and the reader's wedding but it's kind of loud and crowded and although the reader is no doubt excited to spend the rest of her life with Hotch the idea of the party didn't appeal very much because finds that type of event a bit difficult. So, she just hides but he knows where he can find her so he goes and sees her sitting in a corner with all her beautiful dress fluttering around her and he offers to skip the party and she just tells him ‘They’re here for us, it would be rude' but he really doesn't care, the only thing he wanted was for her to be his wife. I had to shorten the ask since it was a bit long, but I truly love this request – My wedding was lowkey because I knew I couldn’t handle a big wedding either.

Aaron Hotchner x Wife! Fem Reader Fluff Word count: 1645

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, reader has anxiety, wedding, wedding type content, feeling overwhelmed, Hotch being the best ever, mention of Jack, pet names, mentions of food and eating, let me know if I missed anything.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“And for the first time, I’d like to welcome Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner!” The DJ shouted into the mic, the crowd erupting in cheers.

Aaron and you made your way into the reception hall, hands joined as he raised them up above you, effectively showing you off to all your family and friends. Aaron turned you around, pulling you back into his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips. Everyone continued cheering for the two of you, joyous to be a part of such a special occasion.

--

The day had been so incredible, everything you could have ever asked for. You had done a private first look, the only witness was your photographer. After the first look you took photos with the wedding party before having the ceremony.

Your ceremony had been short and sweet, with Dave being the officiant, you’d been able to customize the entirety of it. He’d been amazing and personalized it to suit you and Aaron well. After the ceremony ended, Aaron and you stepped away for a private moment, signing your marriage license…but there had been another surprise, you’d also be signing the adoption papers to gain legal custody of Jack. The three of you shared a special moment, full of tears, joy and most importantly, love.

You then went on to take photos with your family and then Aaron, Jack and you took some photos as a family as well as just the two of you as a couple. The location your photographer had chosen was truly spectacular, it had been this lovely grove, the trees blooming with little white flowers, the grass green and lush. It had been perfect.

--

The reception had been scheduled meticulously:

Cocktail Hour (during photos)

Grand Entrance

First Dance

Dinner

Toasts

Dancing

Cake Cutting

Bouquet Toss

Grand Exit

You’d just had your first dance, to a slowed version of The Beatles I Will. Aaron had always been a big fan of the White Album, and that song seemed to be a perfect choice for your dance. Afterwards, you were happy to finally sit and eat, the constant interruption of family and friends coming up to you to offer congratulations and well wishes had been a little overwhelming, but overall, you were doing alright.

Aaron had kept his hand placed somewhere on you the whole night; clasped within yours, pressed to the small of your back, caressing your cheek or neck, or resting on your thigh like right now for instance. He did this to keep you grounded, he knew that this was a lot for you, having so many people around you, but more so the way they crowded the two of you, not leaving any room to breathe.

--

The toasts were planned, you had agreed that you didn’t want to do an open mic for toasts because that often took too long and you didn’t need any embarrassing stories shared in front of everyone. So, the only toasts that were expected were that of your sister, who was your maid of honor, and Dave, who was the officiant…but also technically a second-best man. Jack being the first of course.

What you hadn’t been expecting was Aaron to step up and give a speech of his own.

“I want to start this off by thanking everyone for being here with us on such a special day. For those of you that know us, well you know that I was down pretty badly from the beginning. She had me wrapped around her finger and she didn’t even know it. As our friendship grew, so did my love for her. I thought for a while that I was going to have to settle for being her friend because I needed her in my life one way or another. But then, she came up to me after months of, what I now know was mutual, pining and she said, “if you’re not going to ask me out, then I’ll just ask you.” That was the moment I knew I was going to marry you sweetheart. You aren’t afraid to call me out when it’s needed, you know how to break down my walls and comfort me through hardships, you make me laugh until my stomach hurts, and you have made me smile more in these last few years, than some people do in a lifetime. Jack and I are so very lucky to have you in our lives and I am honored to have become your husband here today. I love you so much sweetheart.”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as your smile grew. Your guests clapped, many of them wiping their own eyes. Aaron always knew what to say, he had a way with words that overwhelmed you…he was able to say exactly what he was feeling, and you wished you could afford the same luxury. Unfortunately, the words didn’t always come so easily to you. You were able to express yourself in other ways though.

--

The DJ welcomed your guests to the dancefloor, you had been making your rounds greeting people and catching up with some friends when it all sort of hit you…all at once. It was loud and crowded and your dress was starting to feel hot and heavy.

After attempting to catch your breath for a moment, you decided to get some air…that would surely help you to regulate.

So, you snuck out into the back of the reception hall, it had been lit beautifully by the setting sun. Off across the back there was a tree that had grown out parallel to the ground, it looked right out onto the lake behind the hall.  You made your way over and sat, your dress fluffed out around you.

You’d taken a few grounding breaths, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself…despite the anxiety that loomed from being around so many people for so long, it wouldn’t dim the joy you currently felt from getting to marry your true love.

--

It didn’t take Aaron long to notice your absence. Once quick glance around the reception hall and he knew you had gone off to try and calm your nerves. He made his way around to see if you’d gone to the restroom or to the foyer…when he came up empty, he decided to check outside and the view he was met with was breathtaking.

Straight ahead of him, was you. Your back to him, sat on the trunk of this tree with your dress cascading around you. The rays of the setting sun illuminated you from the front, casting this angelic glow around you. Aaron felt so incredibly lucky to have found you in this lifetime. He had been so sure that he wouldn’t find love again…but then you came around and proved him wrong. He couldn’t be any more grateful for that.

He walked over to you, quiet enough to avoid disturbing you, but he also wanted to make sure he didn’t startle you.

“Hey sweetheart,” he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder “you doing alright?”

“Hmm, yeah I’m okay.” You sighed, leaning into his touch.

Aaron could tell you were exhausted; physically, mentally and emotionally. Today had been a big and long day. One that he knew would be hard for you to come down from. That was the thing, Aaron often sensed your anxieties before you did…you had high highs, and low lows. Today was the highest of highs…which meant a pretty big come down was sure to follow. Aaron wanted to do everything in his power to help you through that, starting now.

“Hey, why don’t we get out of here?” Aaron suggested.

“Honey, we can’t.”

“And why not? I’ll go grab Jack and the three of us will go grab something to eat and then head home to watch a movie!” Aaron smiled.

“It wouldn’t be right Aar. They’re here for us; it would be rude. Plus, this is our wedding, we’ve paid for all of this.” You huffed lightly.

Truthfully, Aaron didn’t care about all that. He just wanted to spend time with you. He was so incredibly happy to finally be married to you. Nothing else matters in this moment to him…just your happiness. All he’s wanted for the last few years was to have you as his wife, and now you were. His beautiful wife.

“Baby, it’s all for us. Which means we get to choose when it’s all said and done. What do you say?”

“Okay.” You smiled.

Aaron quickly made his way inside, he let Dave know your plan so someone could be in charge of closing everything up, he also informed your sister so she could make sure all your things were situated. Aaron then grabbed Jack and made his way back to you.

“Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

--

The three of you made your way to your favorite diner, a 50’s themed one called Barb’s. Your favorite waitress had even been working, making the night even better.

“Hey guys, did you guys…are you in…I feel like I’m missing something.” Thresa laughed.

“We got married a few hours ago.” You filled her in.

“Oh, and you guys came here? I mean, congratulations…but shouldn’t you be at your reception or something?”

“I am in our favorite diner, with my favorite two people. There is no place I’d rather be.” Aaron confirmed.

“Well, dinner is on the house tonight. Did you guys want the usual, or something else tonight?" Thresa asked.

“The usual.”

--

Aaron, Jack and you ate dinner that night, laughing and smiling and recounting your favorite parts of the day. Though you knew deep down…that years from now, when you looked back on this day, this would be your favorite part. Sitting in Barb’s Diner, eating a grilled cheese across from your husband who knows you better than you know yourself.   

You had never felt happier.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust@khxna @crimesthatnooneaskedfor

[marie-swriting]

New Beginnings - Emily Prentiss

Masterlist

Summary : Emily discovers Andrew Mendoza, her boyfriend, wants to propose and as she thinks back to what you told her when you broke up years ago, she realises why she's so reluctant at the idea of marrying a man.

Warnings : set between s15 and s16, comphet, struggling with sexuality, lesbian Emily Prentiss, reader is queer but no label is used, mention of Emily's abortion and catholic guilt about it and her sexuality, angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 2.7k

French version

Song inspiration : Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan

Emily blankly stares at the ceiling, her brain working fast and slow at the same time. She thinks back on her life, more specifically her relationships and the more she thinks about it, the more she notices a similarity in all of them.

Andrew Mendoza’s arm wraps itself around her waist, interrupting her train of thoughts. Emily’s body stiffens while she turns her head and looks at his sleeping face. She can’t believe she didn’t do anything to stop herself from getting into this situation. Feeling like she’s suffocating, Emily gets out of Andrew’s grip and goes to the bathroom without making any sound. The door closed, Emily drinks some water and then wets her face before putting her hands on both sides of the sink and looking at her reflection in the mirror. While she’s gazing at herself, Emily reminisces about the discovery she did earlier in the day.

As she was searching for one of her sweaters, she went through the entire closet where she found a ring in a red box hidden among her boyfriend’s socks. Emily panicked the second she saw the jewel, all at once she put it back in its place. Since then, she can’t stop thinking about what this ring means; Andrew plans on proposing to her nonetheless. When? She doesn’t know, she can’t stay in this relationship. Her head in her hands, she’s looking for a way to announce the awful news to Andrew. While she thinks about what she could say, a sentence and a voice she hadn’t thought about for a few decades make their way to her mind: “if you stay in denial, you’ll find yourself in a relationship you won’t want and one night, you’ll wake up in panic, wondering why you were so adamant on being someone you’re not.” You had said this to her when you were both fifteen.

You and Emily had become friends as soon as she first arrived in your school in Rome. You were inseparable and you shared your deepest secrets; one of them being you were questioning your sexuality which brought you closer. For the first time in your life, you felt understood. At first, it was platonic. From time to time, you were talking about how you were feeling, your interrogations and depending on the day, you’d reassure one another.

However, one night when Emily had invited you over, your relationship shifted. You kissed, your first kiss with someone from the same gender. At first, it was just to try, to be sure you liked girls, then, after a few more tries, you confessed to Emily your kisses meant a lot to you. Consequently, you had accepted to discover this new side of your relationship. There wasn’t a label on it, though you would kiss whenever you could, get jealous and do everything together. You were just experimenting. Yet, you were more in it than Emily. You wanted more, but she was always reluctant. Understanding perfectly your best friend, you hadn’t insisted on being official even if you would have wanted to. You were just two best friends who kissed. For you, it was reason enough to not meet other people, for Emily, it was really not the same.

One day, while you were going to school, you found her kissing John Cooley, a friend you had in common. Your heart had shattered into a billion pieces for the first time in your life. Sure, you were still discovering who you were, nevertheless you weren’t expecting her to kiss someone else, let alone a guy. Looking at her from afar, you had seen her smile, though you knew she was faking it. You were so hurt you ignored Emily for a whole week. Noticing your change, Emily took you aside during break, away from all the ears.

“What’s wrong? Why are you avoiding me?” Emily asked you.

“When were you gonna tell me about you and John?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied, looking away.

“Sure, you don’t,” you laughed humorless. “I saw you kissing him last week. I can’t believe you did this to me.”

“We never agreed on being together.”

“Because you never wanted to label it! And I’m not mad at you for that, I just didn’t think you’d kiss other people. I knew I should have put an end to this a long time ago,” you sighed, your heart beating loudly in your chest. “So, is he your boyfriend?”

“If you absolutely want to know, yes, he is. Besides, me and you, it was more to experience things. It was never love.”

“Wow, I can’t believe it. Let’s see how it lasts between you two.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re wasting your time with him,” you replied, taking a step forward. “We both know you don’t like guys.”

“I can like boys and girls!”

“Sure you can, but you said it yourself several times, you’re not sure you love guys and you feel like you’re searching for their validation. I think that says a lot.”

“You don’t know how I feel. You’re not in my head,” Emily retorted, defensive.

“True, though I know you well enough. You can try to convince yourself all you want, it’s not gonna change who you are. But you know what? It’s not my problem. You took me for a fool for too long, I’m done, so go ahead, be with him,” you stated, tearing up. “Keep kissing him, go kiss other guys even, if it can make you feel better but if you stay in denial, you’ll find yourself in a relationship you won’t want and one night, you’ll wake up in panic, wondering why you were so adamant on being someone you’re not. And even if I don’t wish you an unfulfilling relationship, I will tell you ‘I told you so’. You’ll see. You can deny all you want, but we know the truth, so good luck, Emily.”

On those words, you walked away, leaving Emily alone with her denial, yet also her heartache. She might have been too proud to admit it, but losing you hurt her a lot purely and simply because she hadn’t just lost a best friend.

The following morning, Emily is exhausted. She only slept two hours as her dark circles under her eyes prove it. At the crack of dawn, Emily leaves the apartment she shares with Mendoza, leaving him alone, and goes to a café near the BAU headquarters. She orders a black coffee, hoping it’ll keep her awake. Her order ready, Emily is about to walk out from the place when a familiar face catches her attention. She does a double take, staring at the person sitting at a table away from her and once she’s sure she’s not mistaken, she walks towards them. At the table, Emily says your name out loud, making you look up. A surprise expression takes place on your face, realising who is in front of you.

“Emily Prentiss! What a surprise!” you exclaim with a big smile. “How long has it been? You know what, don’t tell me, I don’t want to feel old. I already struggle hiding my gray hair.”

“We're the same on this,” she laughs. “I didn’t know you were in D.C..”

“I moved here three months ago. What about you? You’ve been here for a long time? What do you do?”

“I moved about twenty years ago. I’m working for the FBI, at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, more specifically.”

“Wow, that’s something! It doesn’t surprise me, you’ve always been so intelligent,” you genuinely say and Emily’s cheeks start to heat up.

“What about you? Are you an English teacher, like you wanted?”

“Yes, I am. I work in a high school not too far from here. There’s a good team and the students are majorly nice.”

“That’s great. Sorry, one second,” Emily replies when her phone rings. She takes it and checks her notification. “I gotta go, duty calls, but I’m so happy I saw you. If you’re up for it, we could meet again? To make up for the lost time.”

“I’d love that,” you state before writing your number on a piece of paper. “Call me when you’re free.”

“I will. See you, then.”

“See you,” you say, waving at her.

Emily leaves the café, beaming in a way she didn’t expect to today. On the way to the BAU, Emily reminisces about your relationship and the cute moments, whether they’re from after or before your first kiss. However, the happy feeling stops once she remembers your last fight. She’s always regretted the way things ended between you two. She wishes she could have fixed things when you were still going to the same high school, however she wasn’t brave enough to do so. Now that she’s found you again, maybe it’s time to make amends? She doesn’t know if you’ll accept her apology but she has hope. After all, you didn’t push her away when she came to talk. And if you still hold a grudge, Emily will do everything to change that. She wants to make things better between you two, like she should have.

The following weeks, Emily spends them as much as she can at work - which isn’t complicated - so she can avoid Andrew. She knows she has to break up with him, nevertheless she doesn’t know how to do it. Though she can’t wait too long, Andrew might propose shortly; she has to end the relationship before it’s too late. Consequently, Emily decides it’s time to stop running away from the problem. She comes home earlier than expected as she thinks about what to say. The second she walks through the door, she finds Andrew sitting on the couch. She was hoping she’d have more time. Emily puts her bag down, next to the front door and walks towards him; she sits down beside him, though she keeps a small distance. Right away, Andrew notices something is wrong, Emily didn’t greet him with a kiss to say hello. Uncomfortable, Emily wets her lips before speaking.

“I found the ring,” she confesses, point blank. “It was an accident, I was looking for my sweater and I found it.”

“Oh, and judging by your face, you’re not excited about it,” Andrew says, embarrassed. 

“I spent most of my life hiding who I am and it’s time to stop. It’s better to stop now before our relationship passes this milestone,” Emily announces softly. “You’re a good man and you deserve better, a woman who will genuinely love you.”

“At least, you did it before I got down on one knee,” he nervously laughs. “I get it, Emily.”

“I’m sorry, I never wanted to hurt you.”

Emily and Andrew stay silent for a few seconds, the tension being heavy. Emily doesn’t know what to do to make the situation less difficult. Andrew ends up clearing his throat and standing up.

“I’m going to spend the night at a friend’s, I need to be alone if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Andrew quickly packs a bag before getting out of the apartment. Hearing the door closing, Emily sighs in relief. Not being with Andrew anymore is like a weight being lifted off her shoulders, a weight she didn’t know was crushing her. Of course, she feels bad about breaking Andrew’s heart but it was the right thing to do and this feeling of being relieved is the proof of it. Emily can finally be free to be who she is. From now on, she won’t hide herself, she makes that promise to herself.

You end up meeting Emily two months later. Cases kept her occupied while final exams did the same to you. She told you to meet at a bar halfway between your two apartments. You arrived first so you settle down at a table and check your phone, waiting for her. Emily comes ten minutes later. As soon as she’s in front of you, you notice her hair is now gray. You find her even more beautiful.

“You changed your hair. I love it,” you remark with joy.

“Yeah, I was tired of dying it so I decided to accept my gray hair,” she says, nervously running a hand through it.

“You did the right thing. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Before you begin to talk, a waiter comes to take your order then leaves. Once you’re alone, Emily tells you about when she moved to D.C. and you tell her about how you ended in the same city when the waiter comes back with your two glasses of red wine. The conversation flows naturally, as if you had never stopped talking, as if Emily hadn’t broken your heart years ago.

At one point, the infamous question about relationships comes. You simply answer by saying you’re single. You quickly talk about your last lover before asking her the same question.

“I noticed you don’t have a ring on your finger so either you’re like me and you haven’t found the perfect match or you divorced recently,” you suggest and Emily takes a large sip of her wine, trying to hide her uneasiness. 

“Well, I could have been engaged but I broke up two months ago,” she starts before clearing her throat. “I wasn’t in love with… him. You were right from the beginning. Come on, you can say ‘I told you so,’ I know you’ve been waiting for this since we were fifteen,” Emily adds and your heart tightens a little in your chest. 

“I’m not gonna lie, my fifteen-year-old self would have said it with a big smile on her face, but I won’t. It pains me to know you struggled so much with your sexuality,” you say, putting your hand on her wrist for a second.

“I wasn’t as brave as you when it comes to this.”

“I was only brave because you were with me. After our…,” you begin, looking for the right word, “fight, I took a step back. I could only talk about this with you so once we stopped talking, I struggled again. I had to wait until my third year of university to fully accept myself.”

“You were still quicker than me.”

“I was, yeah. I guess your faith didn’t help either,” you say, drinking.

“You have no idea. Especially when you get pregnant as a teenager and the priest tells you you can’t go back to church if you get an abortion. If he had this opinion about abortion, I don’t want to imagine what he thought about homosexuality,” Emily informs, casually, making you frown.

“I didn’t know you had an abortion.”

“It was after our fight. Only John and Matthew knew. The fact is, in the end, it was hard. Fortunately, I’ve accepted that I'm a lesbian. Better late than never like we say.”

“True.”

“You know, I’m really sorry for the way it ended between us. You were there for me and I only pushed you away and hurt you,” Emily says before taking a deep breath. “You were my first love and I ruined everything when you were nothing but patient with me, at least until I pushed it too far. Losing you is my biggest regret.”

Hearing Emily’s apology warms your heart. You moved on years ago though you’d be lying if you said hearing those words didn’t heal something in you.

“You were my first love, too, and because of this, I was mad for years,” you admit. “It’s true what they say about your first queer breakup, it hurts like hell. But growing up, I understood why you acted the way you did so I stopped being mad.”

“It doesn’t mean I should have done what I did. I knew I’d hurt you by dating John and maybe that's what I wanted,” she says, her eyebrows knitting together. “Hurting you so you’d leave me and I could reject who I was a bit longer.”

“You’re not in denial anymore and I’m not mad so let’s move on.”

“Does that mean you’d accept me being in your life again?” Emily asks, nervous.

“I came tonight, didn’t I?” you rhetorically answer. “Of course, I want you in my life again. I missed you, Emily,” you confess, raising your glass.

Emily does the same and you clink your glasses before drinking to new beginnings. You smile to each other, glad to finally have left the past behind you. You don’t know what the future holds for both of you, whether it’s platonic or romantic again, it doesn’t matter, as long as you don’t lose each other once more, that’s all that matters.

Masterlist

[midnightshindig]

That Cecil’s kid one was amazing! Could we get a version where Cecil was unfortunately too busy with work to be there for his kid? Maybe they grow up to resent him a little and eventually secretly end up working with the Mauler Twins, Angstrom, etc (maybe even Viltrumites if you’re willing), for their own personal gain, or what ever reasons you see fit? Take your time! Sorry in advance for this request being kinda long :)

Cecil & Villain!Child!Reader

Oh my god i've been wanting to do this request for so long!! Thank you for submitting it!

hcs under the cut

Your mother died young, being a superhero did that.

You never hated her for it, for protecting others and for doing her best

but you couldn't help but resent her a little for who your father was

or rather, who he wasn't

Father was a generous term for what Cecil was. He was a lot of things

Head of the GDA, most powerful non-powered civilian on Earth, a badass ex spy and a great diplomat and genius

but he was NOT a father

you both knew it.

You barely knew the guy, being raised by a nanny specifically for superpowered children like yourself

You saw him occasionally at dinner, but that was maybe once a month.

He, for safety reasons, didn't want the world to know the two of you were related

so naturally, when you had a big baseball game, or your schools talent show cropped up, or even when you landed a main role in your senior play, he "couldn't" attend

Oh sure, it was taped and streamed to him, but you knew he never watched.

So was it really any surprise when you weren't jazzed about becoming a superhero?

When, throughout your final year of high school and the two years after, you befriend the Mauler Twins?

Even supervillains are allowed pen pals in prison, and they made such compelling ones for you to correspond with

It was a fun guessing game as to which twin had written what, and over the course of three years, the three of you had become something akin to friends

They gave you advice on what your major should be, how to handle the stress of college, and shared anecdotes from their own lives

It was hard to imagine them as normal people once, but they made a convincing story

You knew it was likely supervillain manipulation, but they seemed interested in your life, I mean, its not like they had tv

So you would detail your day-to-day life, sharing your frustrations with Cecil and the GDA as a whole

"What an asshole." the three of your would agree

Maybe you three could work together? It was an idea brought up frequently.

So honestly, you weren't really all that surprised when they showed up at your house after getting broke out of prison

Your powers were marginally useful, the ability to phase through walls and be invisible.

It was USEFUL, but not terribly flashy.

Either way, it made stealing things with them incredibly easy.

Cecil didn't notice when you stopped coming home

god knows he was never there

he did notice, however, when the Declaration of Independence went missing

and when GDA specialty supplies went missing

and when the schematics for all sorts of government wherewithal went missing.

"Donald- what the FUCK is going on?!" Cecil demanded, watching the surveillance streams

"Uh- Sir, you need to see this-" The feed was cut and changed to the news

The Mauler twins, business as usual. Whatever.

But-

"OH my god- Y/n?" Cecil put a hand to his head, pacing back and forth

He thought you'd moved out- maybe with roommates or a partner or something- but this?

Oh fuck....

Cecil teleported to the scene, the Mauler Twins and you attempting to break into the White House once more.

"Y/n! Get over here!" Cecil called out, a mix of anger and pain in his voice

you ignored him.

The Guardians of the Globe arrived

and realistically there wasn't a way they could tell them "oh leave that one alone its my offspring."

And so, as all good things go, your villainous spree ended with you in GDA's supervillain prison.

"Why? I want to know why." Cecil sat across from you with his hands folded

"God- what do you care?" you spat back, your hands cuffed and an anti-power collar around your neck

"Because, Y/n, you're my child and I care about you. At the very least I don't want you in prison."

"You didn't even know I had powers."

"Of course I did!"

"You knew I could phase through walls, but being invisible? I've read the files, Mom couldn't do that. And you had no idea I could."

Cecil sat in silence for a minute. Processing.

"Is that what this is, Y/n? Rebellion?"

You shook your head, rolling your eyes "Of course, everything I do is to appease or piss off a guy I don't even know."

"I'm your father, Y/n."

"Fuck off." your glare was cutting, and the tone in your voice oozed venom with every syllable.

"The Mauler Twins helped me enroll in community classes, they gave me advice about being an adult and how the world works. They listened and were happy for me when I graduated. They sent me a shitty graduation card with the supplies you give them in prison. To be clear- these guys were in prison and they showed up more than you did."

Cecil literally couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Y/n, you're only eighteen, you need to rethink thi-"

"I'm twenty."

Cecil blinked, standing up and going to the door, speaking with Donald through the door before returning

"Twenty.... wow...."

You leveled another glare at him "Yeah. Time flies when you're having fun." your tone was sarcastic, and your disdain apparent.

"Look. I'm sorry for being a bad father, but you're a criminal."

"So? Lock me up, throw away the key. Just fuck out of my life, you were doing so good until now."

Cecil let out a long, drawn out sigh. Feeling twenty years of disappointment in a single moment "Y/n, I know I never took the time to know you, but know this. I don't waste potential."

...

"Go fuck yourself, Cecil."

Bonus!:

The Mauler Twins are being interrogated for their involvement with you

they don't usually take accomplices, so the GDA wanted to know why

instead all they got were violent outburst about your location

"Where is Y/n?! They are INNOCENT damnit! My Clone will agree-!"

"I'm not the clone. But as the ORIGINAL, I demand to know where Y/n is and that they are safe!"

The twins are assured of your safety, but do not calm down until surveillance footage of you and Cecil's interrogation is shown to them

This puts them at ease, as they continue to testify to your innocence.

The GDA has never seen them so concerned about anyone other than themselves

"We will gladly serve our time- god knows we will always find a way out- but Y/n is innocent, release them this instant!"

[eempyreall]

♪ 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝐼 𝐷𝑜 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑛𝑦𝑚��ℎ ♪

༺ You Get Me༻

Oneshot ~ Tokyo Revengers x Female Reader

Summary ~ You’re obsessed with them—two inseparable best friends who captivate your every thought. But the closer you get, the more you realize something is off.

Featuring ~ Baji Keisuke and Hanemiya Kazutora

Extra Notes ~ Blue Lock’s Version - Jujutsu Kaisen’s Version

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr, ao3, and patreon. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

You were enamored with them.

Obsession is an understatement.

Your mind is consumed with the everlasting thoughts of the two men you saw at the market. It was out of character for you. You’ve never been one to idolize others, seeing as they were just as human as you. There was never a point where you had put anyone on a pedestal, not even those closest to you.

It was an unexpected occurrence, your focus completely taken by the aisle of snacks that were displayed in your view. The evening was early, and you had just come from work. Your stomach was unsettled, the feeling of hunger deep within the grains of your guts.

You were too indolent to go out of your way to pick something up, and you had no desire to cook. The market was built on a block nearest to your apartment and on the path to your destination, so the stop was convenient.

It wasn’t until a commotion had captured your attention. Curiosity gnawed at you until your foot took a step in the direction of chaos.

“Hey, you tryna steal from me?” a male yelled, his voice dripping with offense and anger.

You didn’t anticipate any physical contact between the cashier and the customer, but the shouting man gripped the employee’s shirt as he pulled his upper body over the counter. Black strands draped over his shoulders, the smooth waves contrasting with the roughness of his gaze, brown irises sharp as they bored into the terrified cashier.

Your eyes flicked to the man beside him. Two locks of blonde hair framed his facial structure as the rest of his strands were pulled back into a loose tuft. You observed the prominent symbol of a tiger tattooed on his neck.

You noticed that his fingers were curled around the top half of the keypad.

Must’ve been one of those keypad scams they use against cards.

“You really thought we wouldn’t see the sensor, huh?” the golden-eyed male muttered. “You’re a fuckin’ joke.”

Despite the chaos unfolding, you couldn’t stray your gaze away from the presence of the two males. It was indecipherable as to what exactly attracted you at the moment, but you knew that the feelings ran deeper than just physical appearance.

Your brows raised as the black-haired man’s fist slammed against the cashier’s cheek, drops of crimson shooting from his nostrils and mouth as they splattered on the counter. You watched, stunned, as the customer released the fabric. The employee’s body crumpled over the surface, limp.

“Piece of shit,” the man grumbled as he swatted his hand as a way to loosen the tension from his knuckles. “Let’s go, Kazutora,” he said as he snatched the packaged snack and took a step toward the entrance.

His friend followed as they walked alongside each other, eyes ahead as they made their exit, your gaze following them the entire time.

It started off as a quick social media hunt.

Kazutora, huh?

You weren’t stupid.

You knew that you had some kind of interest in the strangers from the store. Whether based on attraction or curiosity was another question on its own.

You had used one of your side accounts to search for his name. It was fairly easy to find his profile despite the clear lack of use. There were three pictures and a couple of highlights, but all within the range of having been posted months ago.

Interesting.

You contemplated whether or not you should follow him, but then you remembered that it didn’t really matter since you were hidden behind an extra account. Your thumb met the screen as you locked in your follow.

Your next search was amongst his relatively small following list, pursuing a hunt for his friend.

Baji…

His account was a little more busy, filled with random, aesthetically pleasing photos. You found a range of motorcycle pictures, food photos, and various shots of the sky

There were a few highlights that displayed him and, you assumed, his friends goofing around with their motorbikes and videos of the cats that stayed at the pet shop he worked at.

A number of weeks passed as you found yourself frequently visiting the market. Despite telling yourself that you had no intentions of seeing the two males, somewhere, deep in the pit of your mind, you were aware of your true intent.

You couldn’t ignore the hollow weight that settled in your chest when you failed to see their presence. The dullness came with an unexplainable feeling of frustration, causing you to view their social media to see if there had been any recent updates on their whereabouts.

Finally, you decided to hang around one of the areas that the males and their friends constantly visited. When they finally appeared, the ache in your chest was replaced with a rush of energy. You could feel the pounding of your heart along with the warmth you felt in your stomach.

What’s wrong with me?

Who knows? And right now, you couldn’t care less.

You were exultant to see the men you had been yearning to run into. A wave of pleasure washed over you as you watched Baji and Kazutora socialize with their friends. Eventually, the sun began to submerge under the moon as everyone left the area.

There was a pull… an insistent tug that dragged you along to tail behind the men who started the engines of their motors. You kept your distance as you followed them to wherever they were unknowingly taking you.

What am I doing?

That didn’t matter right now. Your only focus was to keep your intentions hidden. You didn’t want them to catch on to what you were doing. You didn’t want them to think of you as some creep who wanted to hurt them or do something weird.

You were just making sure they got home safe.

That’s all.

After you pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex, you noticed that they had just walked into the same hall, indicating that they lived together as roommates.

That makes it easier.

Indeed.

This went on for a while. You skipped work just to be able to see them. It didn’t matter what your original plans were, you would always choose them first.

You spent nights curled onto your bed with your body rocking back and forth. Your fingers would curl against your scalp, nails pricking your skin as the tears streamed down your face.

I’m going crazy!

You didn’t accept that this infatuation was a real problem until you started breaking into their apartment. It didn’t matter whether they were home or not. You were quiet enough to sneak around and steal whatever you wanted to have. Cologne, boxers, hoodies, hairbrushes, and more.

I—I can’t get enough of them! I need more!

You became reckless, the care for covering your tracks completely slipping your mind as you grew unhinged.

What’s wrong with me?

You wished to make yourself known. The idealization of your introduction ran through your brain at the speed of light. Various scenarios where they accepted you into their world intruded on your thoughts no matter the time of day. You would lie in bed, grasping their clothes as an attempt to soothe your desire, their scent fuming your nostrils as you cried.

It hurt.

It hurts to know that you would never be worthy of their presence, their love, or even their attention. They were too beautiful… too lively for a creep like you. They had friends—family, as they called them. They had hobbies, jobs, and people who admired them.

What did you have?

A job that you hated, a shortage of family and friends, and a lack of motivation to act on any of your interests. Your personality was mostly awkward, and you didn’t really have anything going for you.

They would be disgusted.

That’s why you would forever stay hidden.

Who the fuck is that?

Your brows are furrowed, heart beating against your chest at an erratic pace as you watch the red-haired woman walk alongside Kazutora, her arm linked with his as Baji walks behind them.

Your hand moves before you can register your motive, opening your car door as you step out of the vehicle. Your hand tightens around your keys to prevent the chain from jingling. You slowly walk to the staircase that blocks your view from the front door as Baji pushes it open, all three of them walking into the apartment.

There is a long pause as you stand in place, a hollowness spreading through your guts as a sudden sting in your chest aches. The pit in your stomach deepens the closer you get to the window—the one you usually climb through. This time, it is cracked open, but the curtain still blocks your view. You look around your surroundings before kneeling in front of the wall, leaning your ear closer to the opening.

There is a moment of murmuring and quiet laughter as they talk. You can’t decipher any specific phrasing because they aren’t speaking loud enough.

Then…

You hear it.

It feels like a punch to the gut—a puncture through your heart as the wave of realization crashes over you. Your stomach churns with disgust as you hear the loud moaning of the woman. Every statement of praise feels like a dagger cutting across your abdomen.

You don’t want to hear it—every sound invading your shield of protection as your brain swarms with different states of denial, despite the anger that seethes within.

Disgusting. They wouldn’t do that.

Of course not.

They wouldn’t—they can’t do this to me.

Why would they when they have a guardian angel—a silent knight, a secret protector? They would never allow the dirty hands of a peasant to spread across their bodies. They would never allow themselves to dive within the depths of a concubine.

It’s outrageous.

You almost laugh before you slap a palm over your mouth, releasing a muffled cackle as you stand from your position.

“This can’t be,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face as you walk back to your car.

She doesn’t deserve them.

You don’t deserve them.

It’s not fair.

Life’s not fair.

Why her?

Why not?

Your forehead drops against the steering wheel as your fingers curl tightly around the surface. You had planned to leave, but you couldn’t move. You remain sitting in the same position as time passes.

I should leave.

You don’t belong here. You’re the intruder.

Before you can start the engine, your eyes flick upward to see the woman leaving their apartment. A feeling of fire burns throughout your chest, coiling tight within your muscles as your body trembles.

The longer you stare at her, the more the fury simmers within you. Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine different scenarios.

Their hands all over her. Her hands all over them.

Disgusting.

Before you even realize it, you have exited your car, taking long strides as you quickly make your way to her form. She hasn’t noticed you as she grabs the handle of the driver’s door.

Suddenly, your grip tugs at her scalp, nails scraping against the skin of her head as you yank her back before forcefully slamming her face against the window with a brutal, sickening thud.

It’s not enough.

Again and again, the sound of the impacts echo throughout the quiet night as her muffled moans go silent. You grunt with every force as her face meets the cold glass, finally shattering as you release her. You breathe heavily as you eye her slumped body, the sharp ends of the glass holding her face in place as crimson streams down the surface.

Your hands continue to shake as you hold your own face, the cold realization of what you had just done making its way through your head. The adrenaline rushes through your veins as you exhale sharply.

Did I really just—?

No, no, no!

“Oh, Y/n.”

You pause, heart pounding against your chest as the hairs on your skin stand tall.

That voice…

Your head swiftly turns to see the two victims of your obsession standing beside you. You are surprised to see the smug looks on their expressions.

Baji crosses his arms, leaning on one foot as he examines the corpse of the woman that just visited. “Kinda an overkill, don’t ya think?”

You’ve been caught.

What are they going to think of me now?

“I—I…” you trail off, hands mindlessly rubbing against the fabric of your pants as your eyes shift from them to the woman.

Kazutora grins as he walks towards you. Shock is evident in your expression as he reaches for your jaw. You feel a tingling sensation in your skin as he uses a thumb to swipe a drop of blood off your face, only to smear it in the process. He chuckles as he slightly tugs you forward, grip tight.

“Guess I was right about you, huh?” His irises glow in the night as they shift from her to you. “You did all this for us?”

“Told ya she was obsessed,” Baji snickers, tone light and casual as he walks closer to the damaged vehicle, leaning over to observe the gore. “Damn, ya really had it in for her.”

Your brows furrow as you feel the tears prick your eyes. “I—I didn’t m—” you cut yourself off.

You meant to do exactly what you had done, despite blacking out and acting out of anger. You don’t want to lie or play the victim, so you press your lips into a thin line as the lump grows in the back of your throat.

I’m so confused. Why aren’t they freaking out? I—I did something terrible! I killed her, for fuck’s sake!

Suddenly, the palms of Kazutora’s hands press tightly against both sides of your face, pulling you nose-to-nose as a glint shimmers in his wide eyes. “Shit! This—this is perfect. You’re fuckin’ perfect for us.”

What?

—𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞���� 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚘𝚗.

—𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍

wc: 1065

It started with the intense feeling of a watchful gaze. Baji was the first to notice, his eyes capturing the last second of your head snapping away as he leaned against the bike. An eyebrow raised as he stared at you, sitting on a bench with your face lowered to the phone.

She looks familiar.

—

[blood-orange-juice]

Arlecchino's line about Childe intrigues me, actually.

If you played Labyrinth Warriors you know he does not do that.

He voiced the absolutely worst theory about Shiki Taishou twice, got called out on that by both Xinyan and Paimon and got offended, saying he needed to consider all possible scenarios.

He does consider that Pulcinella is lying to him (both in his line about him and in Arlecchino's quest) and is extremely casual about it (so this thought is not a shock to him, he clearly has mulled it over).

At the same time when he was left alone in the domain he kept gathering Shiki Taishou's copies to help him get stronger. And he trusts Pulcinella with his family.

He just... acts like two opposite things are true at once. Or maybe does the thing that would give him the best result if any of the two things were true.

(there's also a possibility that he's playing a harmless fool. it's not as interesting but he did do that with Zhongli)

It reminds me of Canotila's book, where a dog was a dog and a rifthound at the same time. I think Skirk trained our boy to work with situations like that.

I'm almost sure Arle misunderstands this about him. And it's fascinating because she's the Fatui spymaster and she's extremely good at reading people... She also has some experience with that two superimposed worlds thing the lore is hinting at, and hiding obvious truths in plain sight.

So I wonder whether she has actually picked up on his idealism and desire for the better version to be true (yes, he considers even the worst ones but has a preference and it makes him falter every time) or did her youngest and the most naive colleague fool her.

And I think it's the latter.

This makes me want to see Childe and Yae interact. I mean, yes, Yae eats boys like that for breakfast, and yes, he will look like an absolute idiot around her.

But would she guess that.

(if anyone can, it's her)

[apatheticsunday]

I literally love this idea. But specifically the version where Danny targets the Batfam and they're like?? wtf is happening??? And Jason opens his door to this random kid with a dufflebag of Bat paraphernalia, demanding cash.

Like, imagine that Danny ends up in Gotham - maybe he was disowned after being revealed as Phantom or Gotham is an entirely different realm that he got body-slammed into by accident; either way, he's there and he actually likes it. It's still a brutal, violent dystopian city full of criminals, but there's a general understanding that you mind your business. Which means that if Danny goes invisible in front of two masked robbers, they just mumble about "damned metas" and find another victim. I mean, Gotham literally has Poison Ivy, Clayface, Killer Croc, Mr. Freeze, and Man-Bat. You're telling me a little invisibility, intangibility, and floating is going to genuinely shock most Gothamites? Please. Give them some credit.

And the best part? Gotham has vigilantes. A lot of them. He got the quick rundown from a couple other kids, but there's Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Robin, Oracle, Orphan, Spoiler, and Signal, and apparently more who crop up from time to time. There's more than enough vigilantes to keep an eye on Lady Gotham, so Danny is happy to enjoy his own destitute situation without worrying about hero-ing on the side. He's can kind of manage with the Martha Wayne Foundation shelter and a couple ten-fingered discounted items. He's... managing.

When Danny hears about The Application, he thinks it's a joke. Most of the street kids think it is. Until Tara stumbles back into Crime Alley with a shell-shocked expression, a huge plastic bag of BatBurger takeout clutched in one hand and a folded piece of paper in the other.

It's the job application. Tara pins it back up on the Martha Wayne Foundation community board for the next kid to try - it gets folded, crumpled, stained, and torn so much that it almost looks like a 100 year old dollar bill. The writing is barely even legible at this point. Danny stares at it tacked up to the board, taken and returned, so many times that he memorizes the thick Sharpie smear and scrawling handwriting. It couldn't be that easy, could it? Would it be worth possibly being revealed as a "Meta"? And the Wayne family aren't even bad people, can he truly steal from them?? In the end, what makes Danny's decision is thinking about spending the rest of his adolescence in Crime Alley, barely scraping by. If there's even a chance that he doesn't have to, he'll take it.

So, Jason Todd is obviously Danny's first target. He's seen the guy in Crime Alley enough times to tail him with ease. Except... Jason disappears into... the known hideout of infamous Crime Lord, the Red Hood? Uh-oh. Maybe chalk it up to being new in Gotham or not really knowing the whole "Brucie and Dickie Wayne" routine, but Danny catches on almost immediately. If Jason is Red Hood and Bruce Wayne has a bajillion kids who happen to have the exact same physique as the bajillion Bat-vigilantes, then... he's gotta steal from the Bat Cult?? Oh, shit. (Also, the idea of Bruce's own son encouraging kids to steal from him is hilarious, Danny's so down for it now that he knows it's not malicious.)

The thing is that the Wayne family is literally famous. Any time they go out into public, there are people taking pictures of them (such as the viral meme of a sleep-deprived Tim Drake clutching three opened cans of Monster, Redbull, and Celcius. Or Dick Grayson cramming an entire Taco Bell burrito into his mouth at a gala. He'd ordered Doordash to Lex Luthor's mansion). But you know who isn't in the public eye? The Batfam. So, Danny makes a decision that can kind of be considered dumb, and decides to pickpocket Gotham's Bat Cult Vigilantes.

Jason Todd slings his custom-made leather jacket over his motorcycle and turns his back for two seconds. Then he turns around and-??? His fucking jacket's gone?? It was the one with like eight secret pockets, too, damnit!!

Tim Drake is suddenly missing a Robin Batarang?? It's the beginning of his patrol and he hasn't even used his utility belt yet, how did he lose one already? (Yes, he does inventory every time he goes out, he was trained by the literal Batman.)

Dick Grayson drops his escrima sticks while fighting and just... can't find it after? He could've sworn he saw it roll by this trash can, though? He doesn't think much of it, honestly, he's got a ton of spares since it happens pretty often. At least it wasn't one of the electric escrima sticks.

Damian Wayne is next. He's kind of like a feral dog while on patrol, eager to violently lunge towards criminals and moving so erratically that Danny can't really find a great time to nick him. It's a lot easier to just steal one of Damian's daggers from where it's lodged into a criminal's shoulder. Robin is too busy terrifying the rest of Two-Face's gang to care about a tiny red dagger, anyways.

Bruce Wayne is the last victim. Danny tried to nick him one time while out in public. He couldn't help it, Bruce walked straight into Martha Wayne Foundation to speak with the managerial board and Danny happened to be there; it was all too easy to steal the man's delicate gold wristwatch. There's a strict no-cameras rule in the shelter, made to protect the identities of those in need regardless of who they may be outside of the shelter. Everybody knows the Martha Wayne Foundation is a neutral ground. So, there's no fear of a wayward camera catching his ghostly visage when Danny makes Bruce's watch intangible for a mere moment. Except when he squints at the underside, there's a faded engraved "to my dear Martha, from Thomas" in cursive script.

Bruce's wristwatch is returned with its owner none the wiser. (Bruce knows. Even if he hadn't felt his mother's watch slip through his wrist, he would've known anyway since Danny accidentally phased it back on upside down.)

So, it turns out, Batman is the last victim. Danny feels sick at the thought of possibly taking something worth something to the man like back at Martha Wayne Foundation, so he steals a single grape-flavored candy from Batman's utility belt. (Batman pretends not to notice.)

Cue Danny knocking on Red Hood's door in the middle of the night with a plastic bag of miscellaneous Bat Cult Items. He's also wearing Red Hood's leather jacket. It's comically huge on the kid, but Danny loves it - loves how warm it is and now much he can sneak into all the hidden pockets. Plus, finders keepers and all.

Red Hood:... what the fuck.

Danny: That'll be 25k.

Red Hood, begrudgingly admitting that he may be a little like Bruce after all: ...okay.

Man, I love Jason-adopts-Danny fics!!!

Pickpocket for Hire

Dpxdc Prompt #61

It started off as a joke.

No really, it was something that Jason felt the Bats would laugh about, while also helping out some street kids along the way.

He put out a job for the kids of Crime Alley, anyone who could pickpocket the entire Wayne family would get all necessities paid for them by Red Hood until they turned 18.

Most kids that saw the challenge would think it was a joke.

Most kids that believed it was real would think it wasn't even worth trying.

Most kids that tried would be caught immediately, and subsequently get a meal paid for by their Wayne of choice and suddenly have some doors opened for them, because Jason knew his family and knew they had a soft spot for kids.

Except the one thing he didn't account for was Danny Fenton, who most certainly was not most kids.

[milykins]

TMNT Headcanon: Cursing During Sex

This idea came from @ninnosaurus in our discord group.

Naturally, I had to do one for each turtle.

I'm sorry my posts have slowed down recently, I was struggling with inspiration to write. Also, I may change my name back because all of the links in my master post are now unusable.

TW: Cursing and mild sexual content.

Leo

Generally, tries to be quiet during sex, but there's something about you.

At some point, the calm, collected version of Leo is gone and in its place is this almost unhinged, desperate individual who does drop the occasional curse word while doing hard, desperate thrusts.

“Fuck…” He’ll groan out at the first deep thrust.

Churrs only for you, it’s a soft rumbling sound that is nearly undetectable at first but becomes louder over time.

He does it in the afterglow when you’ve both finished, a thin sheen of sweat covering you both.

He likes to hold you against his chest from behind, the vibrations of his churrs rumbling through his chest.

It is the best feeling ever.

Raph

Uses ALL the curse words.

Very loud and rumbly during sex.

Does deep, hard, demanding thrusts, intent on fucking you deep into the mattress or couch, or training mat.

Very vocal during sex.

“Fuck, you’re so good… you feel so fucking good…”

He will tell you how good you are and how well you take him.

Churrs like a Mack truck, the loudest of his brothers.

He’ll only do it when he’s sure the two of you are alone.

His favourite way to hold you after the two of you finish is to press you against his chest with his massive arms around you.

Mikey

Fairly liberal with cursing during sex and lovemaking.

Draws out the words as he thrusts.

“Fuuuuuck… fuuuuck, you feel amazing, baby…”

Churrs softly throughout the act if he can.

He will have you laughing the entire time, right until you're both chasing your collective releases.

He is the master of cuddles after sex.

Makes sure you are comfortable in any position you like. Your arms or limbs will never fall asleep under his watch.

He loves it when you’re laying on his chest and he can rub your back in the afterglow.

Donnie

It takes him a little while to feel comfortable cursing during sex.

Initially, he won’t do it, but with some coaxing and reassurance, he'll come around.

He can't help it.

Entering you for the first time feels so good it just slips out.

“Shit… fuck… you feel—” he can’t even get the words out of how amazing you are.

He's more of a talker in the sense that he asks you if what he’s doing feels good and if he’s hurting you in any way.

He moans more than anything during sex.

Churrs right at the very end when he's about to cum.

Curses one last time upon finishing inside of you.

Likes to be the little spoon sometimes with cuddles with his head on your chest or your belly.

He loves listening to your heartbeat.

Taglist

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

[goreandbunnies]

❝ 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛!𝚂𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺

Inspired by @sweetlandspos ‘s fanart ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You see him again on campus a week later as you’re eating lunch in the park, nose in a book, not noticing that he spotted you from a mile away and has been watching you for a moment until he grew too impatient to wait any longer. 

Dealer!Sukuna who sits across from you on the picnic table, wearing shades and grinning like he just won the lottery. He leans in and peeks at the cover of the book you’re reading, snickering when he sees the spicy themed cover. 

“I knew you were a fun one under that shy attitude,” he teases before picking up a fry from your lunch and munching on it, his pink hair dancing in the warm breeze as you look up at him. 

“What do you want?” You ask, trying to sound resigned and confident but you almost choke on the words. 

You’ve been thinking about him. Of course you have. The campus’ bad boy offered you to spend a night with him and you just ran away like a scared cat. You were torn between shame and regret but also still deeply turned on by the memory of that night. The missed opportunity drove you mad, until now. 

Dealer!Sukuna kept his promise to himself and started chasing after you. 

“Do you want the polite version or the truth?” He asks back, grinning before placing a cigarette between his teeth. He leans back, throwing his shades on the table as his knee gently bumps into yours under there, sending electric shockwaves between your legs.

“Both,” you reply shyly, smiling a little. No harm in chatting with him and teasing back, right? 

“Well first I’d like us to be friends, baby,” he shrugs, drawing attention to the tattoos on his massive arms, his black tank top clinging to his upper body and not doing a good job at concealing how huge he was. He nods at you and leans over, you mimic him, like two friends sharing a secret. “Then I’d have you in my bed, making sure I’d ruin you for other men in the future. Fictional or real,” he adds mockingly, glancing at your book. 

Your breath is hitched, you feel too hot in your own skin and his presence crushes you in the best way. He’s intoxicating, much like the drugs he likes to consume. You wish you could be free to give in, to want him back openly, maybe even make him work for it a little since he wants it - you - so bad. But your studies are too important, you’re too focused on your goal to ruin your chances because of a frat boy. No matter how tempting. 

“I- I’m not interested, sorry,” you tell him, frustration and regret gnawing at your gut. 

Dealer!Sukuna who sees right through your lies. He knows the effect he already has on you. 

“One night, that’s all I’m asking for,” he offers, finishing his cigarette and crushing the butt on the wooden table. “If you don’t want to see me again after that, I’ll let you go,” he lies. But you believe him and this time, it’s too tempting to refuse. Again. 

Besides, one night of fun can’t be that harmless. Most students get trashed weekly and yet they still graduate. One night to unwind with the hottest guy on campus wouldn’t put your plans in danger. It’s been forever since you’ve had some adult kind of fun, sticking to smutty books to make sure not to get attached or too distracted by a real man. 

“What do you say, Princess?” He insists, one of his long legs sliding between your pressed thighs, prying them open. You let him. 

He doesn’t look like the type of guy who gets attached anyways. You tell yourself that you can spend that one night with him then just lie, tell him it wasn’t that good and get back to your bland, boring life. You already know any sex with him would be life changing. It scares you a little. He scares you even more. 

“Okay,” you eventually give up, heart pounding in your chest. 

Dealer!Sukuna whose eyes light up with malice and excitement the second that small word comes out of your mouth. He’s not the type to work for things, he’s used to people coming to him and giving everything he wants on a silver platter. 

This is a first for him. Just like it’s a first for you too. You’ve always made sure to keep away from trouble and he always stuck to the wilder girls out of habit. None of them had sparked a similar interest in him. 

His hand reaches out and cups your chin gently. His hand smells like the cigarette he just smoked and this alone ignites something in your lower belly. 

“Clear your schedule for me tonight then,” he demands, impatient. You shake your head. 

“Not tonight,” you feel stupid for saying no yet again. But you need more than an afternoon to prepare yourself for a whole night with him. 

Dealer!Sukuna who lets go of your face, huffing as he collects his shades on the table and snatches a pencil from your stuff. He scribbles his phone number on the margin in the book you’ve stopped reading. 

“Up to you now, princess,” he slides the book back to you before getting up, his playfulness gone as he leaves you there, alone. 

Your face falls as you glance at the phone number, feeling like you’ve just lost your opportunity to step out of your comfort zone. The one chance to experience more. Defeated, you collect your belongings and head to your next class. 

The entire lecture, your mind is on the number written in that book, wondering whether or not you should text him and apologize - what for, being a coward? Or simply tell him that you can’t see him tonight because you’re too nervous. You end up doing nothing, going along with your day. 

You’re walking to your last class when a strong hand snatches you from the corridor into a fire exit. Before you can scream, that same hand covers your mouth as you’re being pinned against a wall. Pink hair and crimson eyes come into view and you suddenly become acutely aware of the proximity between your body and his. 

Dealer!Sukuna who is just tired of waiting for a taste of his new favourite drug.

♡ Taglist : @gojoscumslut @bohoooitsme @call-memissbrightside @yuujispinkhair @seellove @s3ns4ti0n4l ♡

Dividers by @cafekitsune and @firefly-graphics

Copyright © goreandbunnies 2024-2025, all rights reserved, do not repost, use or plagiarize

[wardenparker]

The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 3

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas.* Shitty family, amazing found family, new friends, supportive friends, Nick Fuckiiiiiiiiiiiin Cage, wedding fluff. Summary: It's time to get married! And that reality is so much sweeter than you ever could have anticipated. Notes: I just...really really love weddings, guys. You all know that by now 🧡🧡 This week, please enjoy a gorgeous view of the Breakers from the ocean!

Friday, April 4, 2025 T-Minus One Hour Until the Wedding

Javi had helped you tote everything back inside Hazelwood House. It's unbelievable that you're actually allowed to be sitting in the room reserved for brides preparing for their special days. It's just one of the house's guest bedrooms but it is outfitted with plenty of non-historical seating and a large vanity for sitting at to do hair and makeup.

Moira had rushed home to change into her favorite purple off-the-shoulder dress and sparkling ballet flats and now the two of you are doing your hair and makeup at that vanity that normally you only see pictures of on the museum's social media accounts afterward.

“Knock, knock.” There’s a polite tap at the door and then two women with huge rolling bags come in. “Hi! I’m Tracy and this is Tandy. We are hair and make-up, so we thought we could come give you a hand? If you want?”

"Oh!" You almost jump even at the gentle intrusion. "Oh my god, really? I—" You glance at Moira but she's already glowing. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. That would be incredible

They both squeal in excitement and come wheeling into the room, careful to close the door behind them. “I looooove soulmate weddings!” Tandy gushes, an exact copy of her twin sister except she has a star tattoo behind her right ear that is visible with her hair put up.

"And this one is going to be gorgeous." Moira declares, practically giggling as she shifts away from the mirror to let you sit directly in front of the vanity.

You are sitting in a dressing gown, which is perfect. Tandy smiles as she stops behind you and examines your hair. “Do you have any ideas for your hair?” She asks.

"Um...Javi picked out a hairpiece," you tell her, severely downplaying the fact that your soulmate chose a literal tiara for you to wear. Instead, you simply take out the box that Cindy had packed it in and open the lid to show the other women.

“Oh my Godddddddddd!” The screeches from all the women are ones of pure joy. Every woman loves a tiara, even if they didn’t want to wear one. And this one is gorgeous.

"The whole look together is fairly spectacular," you admit, your warm cheeks and sheepish expression making you look all the more excited – because you are.

“So obviously, the tiara is the star of the show?” If the headpiece is this beautiful, the dress must be breathtaking. “What about a sleek style that weaves the tiara into your hair?”

"I defer to your expertise," you tell Tandy honestly. Normally you don't do too much to your hair besides take care of it and put it into the same simple style every day. "I just want to look like myself when all is said and done. I guess...today really is the best version of myself I could hope for."

“Natural.” Tracy smile as she moves over to Moira. “I believe in just enhancing your beautiful features with make up.” She promises before she looks at your maid of honor. “May I work on you, gorgeous? You have such beautiful eyes.”

“I guess the look we’re going for is natural.” Moira grins at you and looks back at Tracy. “I do…have a favorite lipstick, though.”

“Oh yeah.” You light up and start nodding. “Clinique Pink Honey. Makes her look like a movie star.” At that, you and your best friend both laugh. “I mean…I guess she’ll just fit in perfectly with the crowd that way.”

“Don’t be too intimidated.” Tandy tells you. “All of them are just as normal as you and me. They just have higher profile jobs.”

"I don't think it's a matter of being intimidated." Which is not what you expected to feel, all things considered. You would have expected that you would feel that way. Maybe it just hasn't really hit you yet. "I'm mostly just surprised."

“It has to be a shock.” Tracy agrees as she starts to pull palettes of colors out of her unzipped bag. Trays and trays of makeup, all nearly organized. “Just suddenly discovering your soulmate by chance.”

"It's a beautiful surprise, but it was definitely a surprise." You and Moria sit up straight in your chairs to let the twins artists set to work. "It's not like I've been checking Mate Marks for matches or anything, ya know? It just...happened."

“Do you know why he wasn’t on Mate Marks?” She asks curiously, pondering over that. She’s never assumed a screenwriter would need anonymity.

"Some people aren't." You shrug slightly, realizing you never even thought to ask. "Some people want to find their soulmate naturally. Out in the wild, if you will."

“Either way, you have found each other and now you are getting married.” She hums. “And it will be beautiful.”

"He's beautiful." A fact which has you practically giggling. "It's been such a whirlwind."

“He is very attractive.” Tandy admits with a smile. “His accent.”

"Is to die for." Another round of giggles ripple through you, and you stand by your opinion wholeheartedly. "I will very happily listen to anything he has to say."

“And he’s so clever.” She adds. “The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent is one of my favorite movies. It the reason I wanted to work on this movie so badly.”

“That was one of his?” Moira’s eyes widen.

“Yep.” The pride on your face is unmistakable. The universe gave you a soulmate you can be truly proud of and you don’t mind having those bragging rights at all. “That was his first movie.”

“What a way to break into Hollywood, huh?” Tandy snorts. “That movie was like number one at the box office for months.”

"It was incredible." Tracy agrees with an air of absolutism. "His characters are gorgeously complex."

“So this is going to be incredible.” Moira hum. “You are marrying a genius.”

"I love that way of thinking about it," you agree with the broadest grin.

Everyone continues to work and giggle, passing snippets of information. The twins efficient and chatty at the same time.

“What do you think of this?” Tracy asks Moira. “Or do you want a little more dramatic touch? Even though it looks dark in person, a heavily coat photographs better.”

"My best friend's wedding?" Moira glances over at you and you grin at her in the mirror. "I think it calls for a touch of drama, don't you?"

“Definitely.” Tandy hums in agreement. “You won’t look like some old matriarch who’s still got her foundation on from 1920, but you’ll look amazing.”

The laughter that comment earns is loud and genuine, so much so that you almost don't hear your phone ringing in the pocket of your robe. When the most important people in your life are all already in this building, you frown slightly – but it's your father's cell phone that pops up on your caller ID. Moira's jaw drops open, but you shake your head at her concern. "I called him from the boutique before we came back, and left him a voicemail. I figured they should at least know."

After all, they're still your family. Which is why you pick up now instead of sending the call to voicemail like you might have otherwise. "Hi Dad."

“Surprised to get your message.” He doesn’t greet you, ask you how you are. It’s just not the way your father does things. Straight to the point and often unavailable, that’s him. “You need money?”

"No, Dad, I don't need money." You roll your eyes at Moira and smother a sigh. "And I'm well, thank you. I only wanted to let you and Mom know that I'm getting married tonight."

"Married?" His voice is shocked, astounded actually, and he clears his throat. "This is a prank, right?" He huffs. "Like that time you said you were going to go to art school?"

Controlling your breathing is a feat of fucking strength right now, but you aren’t going to spoil the night with another argument about how you had to withdraw your acceptance at Parsons because your mother refused to release the small amount of money they had allotted for your education if you threw it away, in her words. “This is not a prank,” you inform your father coolly. “I met my soulmate and we’re getting married. I just thought it was appropriate to let you know.”

He sputters for a moment. "Soulmate? Who is this soulmate?" He sighs and you can imagine that he is rubbing his eyes right now in that condescending manner to was meant to convey frustration and disappointment at whoever he is dealing with. "Please don't tell me that you just met this man?"

“I met him two years ago.” Technically true. “And I didn’t call to ask for permission. Or to ask for anything at all. This is merely information.” Fucking hell, you can’t wait to change your name.

"You planned a wedding without inviting us." He huffs sounding hurt for a moment and then there's the shuffling the phone and he murmurs something that you can't make out. Having a conversation with someone in the background that takes precedence over your call. The shuffling stops and he comes back on the line. "Well, you let us know. We'll send a card." With that, he hangs up the phone.

“And that is why I wouldn’t have told you anyway.” You huff at the phone, tossing it onto the vanity in a flourish of annoyance. “Well, I told them. That’s all they’re entitled to anyway.”

Moira sighs, very familiar with the disappointment that flashes in your eyes and is quickly suppressed. After all the hurt, all the chances you’ve given them, you try to pretend you don’t want the Hallmark happy family you watch on tv. “Some people don’t deserve to be parents.” She reminds you. “You have me and your other friends.” She waves her hand dismissively to make you laugh because she always tells you that she’s the only friend you really need. “And now you have him. Your soulmate.”

“Well…” Sitting back and letting your eyes shut temporarily, you reach over and give Moira’s hand a squeeze. “At least my kids will never have to quiet about being treated equally. No Golden Children in my house. No favorites. Ever.”

“None.” She promises and gives a little laugh. “Black sheep, all of them.”

“Loved no matter who they are.” You insist. That’s the key.

“Babe, you were born to be the best mother.” She agrees. “You will love every quirk and passion they have.”

“Yes. Yes I absolutely will.” There are so many wrongs of your own childhood that you will right with your own children, but the first step to getting there is getting married tonight.

“Now, forget about them.” She could possibly be talking about a bug or some gum on her shoe rather than your parents. She knows if she ever had the misfortune of meeting Cruella de Vil and her husband, she will be giving them the ass chewing of a lifetime.

"You're right." There is no reason to ruin your special night thinking about your awful family, and you're not going to let it happen. "You're absolutely right. Now." You relax back in your seat as Tracy and Tandy switch places. Your tiara is secured into place and it's starting to feel real all over again. "Moira, my love. As maid of honor I think it's wedding law that you have to take somebody home tonight.

“Yes please.” She immediately agrees with a wicked grin. “I’ll take both Jason Grant and Alex Powell home.”

"Somehow I think Alex Powell needs to be the center of attention at all times," you hum, smirking slightly. "Not that I dislike him. He's actually been really nice. But you've had that crush on Jason Grant for ages now."

“He’s hotttttt.” She huffs, slightly embarrassed about it but she can’t help but preen. “Did you see that ass? You could bounce a quarter off it.”

"I'm not saying you're wrong." Laughing right along with Tracy and Tandy, all four of you end up in a giggle fit. "I'm just saying...he's here now. You could actually talk to him. Get to know him. Even make a move?"

“Like he would want me.” She snorts, giving you a horrified look. “And I’m not lucky enough that my soulmate is a hot actor.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna get some fucking CPA.”

"Six hours ago, if you had told me Javi was my soulmate, I would have laughed at you." In fact, you're pretty sure she might have suggested it once and you did laugh. "You never know. That's all I'm saying."

Rolling her eyes, she blows a raspberry. “Now you’re all ‘the sky is blue and the birds are singing.’ She teases. “It must be love.”

"Maybe." The grin on your face grows quickly into something wide and unapologetic. "Maybe it is."

****** Nerves has Javi nearly jittery at the flower covered arched trellis that leads to the informal gardens. That is where your boss said that you had always gotten dreamy eyed when you saw wedding set ups so that’s where she had decided to set up.

“You doin’ okay, Jav?” Nick chuckled under his breath, already knowing the answer as he waits beside his friend in front of the small group of assembled guests.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming.” Javi turns towards Nick with a plea in his eyes. “We aren’t drunk in my pool, plotting and laughing. I’m here. I’m in this moment and I’m marrying my soulmate.”

Nick laughs the way only Nick can, because it is full of boundless affection for his tenderhearted friend. "No, buddy." He assured Javi, shaking his head. "You're not dreaming. This is your fairy tale."

He shivers, his face alight with pure joy and his eyes sparkle. “Do I look okay?” He asks, knowing he looks good, but wanting the reassurance. “Thank you for remembering a belt. It matches the shoes too.” He adds, looking down at his loafers proudly.

“You look fantastic.” Nick assures him. One comforting hand on his shoulder squeezes tightly and Nick’s eyes wander momentarily to where Olivia is sitting with Addy in the front row usually reserved for family. Because they are Javi’s family. Javi is the closest thing to a brother Nick has ever had and he understands the sheer joy of finding your soulmate. Of course he wants that for his brother.

“Have I showed you the ring?” He has, but he’s already pulling it out of his pocket again. Partly to reassure himself that it hasn’t disappeared in the forty-five seconds since he had tapped the pocket to make sure that it’s there.

“It’s beautiful, Jav.” Nick knows he’s proud, and is about to nudge him a little about starting work back up on the house when the music starts.

“Oh god, it’s time.” Javi is shaking as he shoves the ring box back in his jacket and straightens his shoulders. Immediately hearing the commanding voice of his father as he scolds him to stop slouching and look proud. He is a Gutierrez.

You can tell that Moira picked out the music as soon as you step out of the house. I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You pours through the speakers hidden throughout the garden, and your best friend grins at you as she takes her place ahead of you to walk down the aisle.

Of course Nick starts to hum along with the song. One of his earlier movies was playing Elvis and he’s been obsessed ever since. Like Javi had been obsessed with Nick. Javi swallows and shuffles as he sees your friend, itching to get a view of his bride.

With a nod from you, Jason slides into place beside Moira to escort her down the aisle after passing off two beautiful bouquets of fresh and vibrant Gerbera daisies. For Moira the bouquet is petite and playful, for you it is big and bold and beautiful. They're so momentarily distracting that you almost miss the soft, affectionate expression on Alex's face as he steps up next to you.

“You make a beautiful bride.” He has intuition about people, reading them easily. He knows that you and he will be good friends. He’s a serial flirt, a little bit of a playboy, but he’s also a very loyal friend. His suit is immaculate and he offers you his arm proudly. “May I have the honor of escorting you to your soulmate?” He asks seriously, even as he smiles that blinding white toothed smile that melts hearts and panties.

“As a matter of fact?” You take his proffered arm with ease. “I insist upon it.”

“You insist.” He peps up even more at that and rolls his shoulders back to straighten up taller. His hand covers yours protectively. “He’s waiting impatiently, so let’s not keep him waiting longer than he has to.”

Moira and Jason make their way down the aisle and the actor deposits her opposite Javi and melts into the crowd of secondary cast and production crew that have all obviously changed into whatever nice they had on hand and are all sitting happily as if they have known you forever.

The music changes as you and Alex step up to the end of the path that will take you up to Javi. It's surreal in a way you'll never quite be able to describe. From Elvis to Etta James, the music now proclaims that you have found each other as you make your way toward your soulmate under the watchful, joyful eyes of assembled friends. Some are old, some are new, but all of them are watching as Alex brings you up to Javi at the end of the aisle and sets your hands into your soulmate's.

“Hi.” He gushes, eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears as his smile lights up his entire being. “You look…una diosa, mi diosa.” He murmurs, tongue tied for a moment. “My goddess.”

"Hi." If you were breathless with excitement before, it is doubled now. "How did you get even more handsome since I left you an hour ago?"

“I changed.” He jokes, making Nick chuckle beside him.

One simple moment of laughter eases some of the nerves that have been holding you tight in your grasp, and you squeeze Javi's hands in yours as Tamara gently clears her throat to get everyone's attention.

“We are gathered here tonight to unite these soulmates in a blessed union.” She smiles as she addresses the crowd.

Tamara’s speech is short and witty, as charming and silly as she is with a reverence for the romance of the moment. If you manage to remember to ask her for a copy of it later — if she even has it written down — you’ll add it to a photo album of beautiful snapshots of tonight.

Javi is practically shaking in excitement and turns towards you as he holds both of your hands. “Ready?” He asks.

“Ready.” And if you make it through your vows without crying, it will be a miracle.

“You are beautiful.” He whispers with a shy smile before he has to look back at Tamara again and nod for her to proceed. “We are ready.”

“For these two soulmates.” Tamara beams, smiling at you and Javi and then out at the crowd. “Love swept in like a fairy tale. A fairy tale that began right here at Hazelwood House with their first meeting and will continue for many endless years to come. As bold and unique as they place they first met, these two soulmates have the potential for an adventurous and boundless life of joy ahead.” There is no questioning, in her mind, how absolutely true that is, and she smiles again. “It doesn’t take more than a few minutes in their presence to know that this is the kind of love that makes the rest of us believe in the true power of soulmates.”

Javi shivers at her eloquent words. He hopes beyond hope that this is that kind of love. Nick reaches out and clasps a hand on his shoulder in steady support. Smiling into your eyes, he feels like he is staring into your soul. His soul.

"Javier." Tamara smiles encouragingly. "We'll have you start the vows."

Javi takes a deep breath, making you smile and giggle slightly. It’s not a heavy sound, it’s nervous. Murmuring your name is accompanied by stroking the back of your hand with his thumbs. “From the moment I saw you, I was drawn to you. To your beauty, your kindness. That sweet smile.” He tells you. “I had to talk myself out of coming back every day for a week so you did not think I was a creep.”

That draws a sweet laugh from the crowd and another giggle from you, but you squeeze his hands back affectionately. "I looked for you," you admit, not minding interrupting him to say so. "Every single day."

“You did?” He perks up even more, happy that you seem just as enchanted with him as he is with you. “That’s good. And I thought of you. At random times, I could not get you out of my mind.”

"Neither could I." A fact which makes tonight so much sweeter. But you'll have your turn to make your vows to him in a moment. This is Javi's time.

“Every time I saw you after that, I became more ravenous for time with you. Hating to leave your side and now, I do not have to.”

An audible aww! comes from the crowd, and you break out into another wide grin when you recognize Tandy's voice. The twins, it seems, are just as involved in this love story as the rest of the cast and crew became today.

Javi glances at the crowd and then right back to you. “I want to be a good soulmate. A good husband.” He vows. “To make you feel special and appreciated every day.”

Tamara nods for you to go next, clearly smothering a watery smile at her microphone.

"Javi, I..." You have to remember to breathe so that you don't cry, but your eyes are watering with happiness before you even begin. "I still feel like I'm dreaming," you admit, and laugh softly when a ripple of coos and chuckles wash through your assembled friends. You're so glad that you talked through what you wanted to say to him with Moira before coming down from your dressing room. "I feel like I must have dreamt you up in a bedtime story that I told myself years ago and brought you to life through wishing. I can't wait to learn with you, and grow with you, and build our future together."

Javi can’t help himself. Lunging forward, he presses his lips quickly to yours before he is pulling away with an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry.”

A ripple of affectionate laughter rolls through the crowd and Tamara’s smile grows wider and softer in response. “Let’s get those rings,” she says, looking to his best man and your maid of honor.

“Rings…..rings.” There’s a moment of pure panic on Javi’s face as he blanks out for a split second on where he put them. Nick steps forward quickly before he can freak out. “Jacket pocket, buddy.” He whispers in Javi’s ear and steps back just as quickly.

Moira has Javi’s wedding band for safe keeping, and she passes it to you along with a lovingly weepy hug. Your best friend has always been a softie, after all.

“Here it is.” Javi pulls out your ring with a flourish. Smiling happily as he stares at it for a moment.

"We exchange rings," Tamara goes on, starting to get a bit choked up. "As a symbol of everlasting love. Once it exists, it never ends, and to have a physical reminder of that love each day can be as soothing for the soul as anything else in the world."

Oh yeah, she is absolutely about to cry, you think but you really can't blame her. You're there yourself.

"Javi, repeat after me as you present your soulmate with her ring." It's so very simple but so beautifully felt. "I present you with this token of my love and devotion. A symbol of our partnership for life." And then, of course, the traditional icing on the cake. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Javi holds your left hand as if it were made of glass and has the ring ready to slip onto your finger. “I present you with this token of my love and devotion.” He says clearly. “A symbol of our partnership for life. With this ring, I thee wed.”

Even though you just bought the beautiful platinum band three hours ago, it still feels like magic when it slips onto your finger perfectly. It doesn’t feel real. Like anything this perfect has to be a dream.

Your fingers grip his tightly for a moment and you blow out a shaky breath before repeating the vow under Tamara’s direction. “I present you with this token of my love and devotion.” The beautiful band you hold at his finger slides on so easily. “A symbol of our partnership for life. With this ring, I thee wed.”

“It fits.” He huffs out happily, like he didn’t just try it on hours ago. He had already shifted his pinky ring to his right hand, wanting his wedding ring to be the only ring on this hand. “I will never take it with the intention of putting our vows aside.” He vows seriously. He will have to remove it at times, but it would never be removed for any nefarious reasons, that he can promise.

“I can promise you the same.” There are a hell of a lot of people in this world who couldn’t — or wouldn’t — say the same and you won’t be one of them. Not when it feels like you’ve been searching for him your entire life.

“Do you take each other,” Tamara definitely sniffles this time. She can’t help it. “To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for the rest of your lives to come?”

“I do.” Javi’s words are clear, direct. Meant with every fiber of his being. He nods and smiles. “I do.”

“I do.” Your heart pounds with it and sings its tune.

“Then,” Tamara beams, sounding almost as excited as you and Javi. “By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

“It’s allowed this time.” Nick chuckles and that makes Javi start to laugh, pulling you close and dipping you down as he presses his lips to yours like it’s the most romantic of romance movies.

The whirlwind moments that follow – running up the aisle together and back into the house, wrapping your arms around each other in the Great Hall after you've practically scampered through the open doors that let the warm, evening air into the house. There is a table waiting nearby with the paperwork to make your marriage official nearby, and the cameraman that is filming the wedding has followed at a respectful distance to capture the utter joy that is you and Javi kissing each other silly as you wait for your witnesses to join you inside.

“We are married!” He can’t believe it, even as he signs his name. “My middle name is Mateo.” He realizes that he’s never told you that. There’s so much for the two of you to learn about each other. He signs his complete name to the form and smiles up at you.

You tell him your middle name, too. The small things stack up on top of each other as you begin this crazy journey together. Including the second form that Tamara hands you, because Moira told her to make sure there was a copy. It is the form to file for changing your name now that you are married, and you nearly bite your lip as you start to fill it out. "I've...always figured I would take my husband's name," you tell him nervously. Wondering why the hell you're nervous. "Is that okay with you?"

Javi nods eagerly. “Perfect.” He agrees, knowing that the rest of his family legacy might be shameful, but this family he is starting with you will not be. “I— I would love for you to have my last name. Our family name.”

"Our family." You like the sound of that very, very much. It's so much better thinking of the family you'll make together than the one that has never even tried to understand you.

“Our family.” Both of you seem to melt at the idea. Unable to stop simpering as you close the gap between you and kiss again. Aware that you are being a little dramatic, Javi doesn’t even care.

Your friends let you indulge – it's your wedding day after all – but in these first few moments of wedding bliss, you barely have any concept of who is in the room with you. Moira is there, chatting with Tamara, and Javi's best man is interjecting in the conversation as well. It's all a whirl of joy that swirls around you until you finally tune into the conversation a few feet away.

"Um...sweetheart?" You pull back with confusion on your face, looking at Javi with furrowed eyebrows. "Is your best man Nick Fucking Cage?"

Javi looks at you in an equally confused fashion. “Um….yes?” He answers, tilting his head as he hears Nick laugh and starts to smile, looking back at him and then towards you. “You didn’t notice him before now? I called him with you in the car. He brought me my suit.” He reminds you.

"You called your best friend Nick in the car and...you told me separately about having Nick Cage come to your birthday party." Now you're laughing as you see that it should have been obvious. "I just...I didn't put the pieces together! And I was not paying attention to anyone but you just now."

“I see.” He chuckles with you and leans into kiss you. Turning, he guides you over to where Nick is talking with an obviously star-struck Moira. “Nick.” He hums happily. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my wife.” He grins, remembering how shocked Nick had been when he had facilitated his reunion with his own soulmate a few years ago. “Sweetheart, Nick Cage.”

"Hi Nick." In this moment you barely know what to do besides shake his hand, but this is your brand new husband's best friend, so when you end up hugging him it shouldn't really be a surprise.

“Nice to meet you.” Nick replies with a smooth smile and a sparkle to his eyes when he draws back and his own soulmate joins him at his side. “Honest to god, I’m glad to meet you.”

"Considering the circumstances?" You glance over at Javi and beam. "I'm very glad to be met." A shared laugh ripples through the group. "And obviously I'm very glad to meet both of you, too."

“Olivia.” Nick’s wife offers, reaching up and brushing his lapel lovingly. “It was a beautiful ceremony and it reminded me of our own wedding vows.”

"i am really looking forward to getting to know both of you." If you had been told yesterday that this conversation would be happening ever in your life, you would have called bullshit. But here you are, and you're beckoning Moira over to your side in the process. "Moira Whitney. My best friend in the entire world and an absolute angel of a human."

“Hi again.” Moira smiles, almost shyly but she’s still a little awestruck that she had a conversation with Nick Cage about your wedding.

"Why don't we go grab a drink?" Olivia suggests, knowing things like photos have to happen and the other guests will be filing up onto the terrace for cocktail hour.

“Absolutely.” She beams at how nice she is and nods before she looks at you. “Love birds? Would you like a drink?”

"Don't you worry about that." Scott appears with the camera man and your official wedding photographer, as well as Leslie. Your boss a tray of crystal-clear blue and bubbling glasses ready to go. "The caterers had a suggestion for a signature cocktail and I thought you'd like it," she confesses. "They're usually called Tiffany Mimosas, but for tonight, they're called The Something Blue."

Javi can see that you are absolutely over the moon at the idea. Melting and cooing at the light blue drinks. "Something blue?" He asks, tilting his head. "Right. The things a bride needs."

"She's also a sucker for anything Tiffany-themed." Moira tells him with a sly grin. "We threw her a Tiffany tea party for her birthday last year. Not like anything there was Tiffany at all, but we watched Breakfast at Tiffany's and had blue everything and everybody dressed up."

"Tiffany's." He nods seriously, making a note of the famous jeweler.

"Javi, that isn't necessary." You insist, knowing your best friend has just given him a lifetime of ideas. "Let's go and take photos, shall we?"

"Photos." Temporarily distracted, he pulls you close and hums as he presses his lips to yours. "You look so beautiful, you must have all the photos taken of you. To remember tonight. This moment."

"Where would you like to take them?" Leslie asks. An indulgent smile lights up her face that only grows wider when you light up. "Anywhere in the house. I know you both must have favorite rooms."

“The green marble room.” Javi immediately answers. “Where we met.”

"The billiard room. Absolutely." It's a perfect choice, of course, and a romantic one to boot.

"And the library?" Leslie asks, grinning. She knows it's your other favorite part of the house.

"And the cliffs?" Javi turns towards you to see what you think. "Unless you don't want to risk your dress?"

"Why not the bench?" You suggest, remembering that second day you met him with such affection. "We can take some photos out at the bench with the cliffs and the ocean in the background."

"Yes." He lights up. "I would love that." He smiles. "I wanted to ask you to dinner that day. At the bench."

"What stopped you?" The whole group of you start to move over to the billiard room together, and you hold Javi's hand with intertwined fingers as you go.

"I lost my nerve." He admits sheepishly, blushing slightly. "I did not think that you would accept."

It doesn't bear pointing out that you absolutely would have accepted, or that you might have known you were soulmates much sooner if he had gone out onto that limb. There is no use dwelling on what might have been when what lies ahead of you is so bright. "Well," you hum, tapping your sparkling champagne glass against his. "We will have a lifetime of dinners ahead of us."

“Yes.” He chuckles and takes a sip of his champagne. “Dinners and breakfasts. Movie nights. Even premiers.”

"It's all very Disney to me," you admit, and smile when he gives you a slightly confused look. "It's a whole new world."

“Ariel? No, no that is Jasmine.” He corrects himself quickly. “Aladdin.” It has been a long time since he’s seen the movie, but he’s proud of being able to recall it. “You like Disney?”

“Love it.” You’re practically floating at his side as you walk, just talking and holding his hand as you go. “I grew up on Disney and it always just stuck with me.”

“Then why don’t we go tomorrow?” He asks, smiling softly. “Spend our honeymoon at Disneyland? I have never been to one.”

“You wouldn’t think that was silly?” It sounds sweet and fun to you, but you wouldn’t do just about anything with him and it would seem perfect right now.

“No, I don’t think that there is anything I could do with you that would seem silly.” He admits with a small smile.

“Maybe we’ll collect ideas all through the night and decide tomorrow?” You feel positively light about the whole thing, not worrying about the logistics of anything for this night. Just wanting to bask in the glow of being a newlywed. At being with your soulmate.

“Perfect” Javi glows under the knowledge that you just want to be with him. That anything and everything is on the table. “Pictures, sí? For our children? When they ask how we met and married?”

"We will have more pictures than they can stand," you predict. Happily setting your glass down so that the photographer can shuttle you into whatever pose he sees fit.

******

Craft services pulled out every trick up their sleeves. Javi can’t believe all the finger foods and little bites they managed to prepare. And someone had managed to go out and get cases of champagne. He presses another glass into your hand as you are animatedly chatting to Olivia and Nick, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing his lips to your pulse. “Wife.” He murmurs, inhaling the intoxicating scent of your perfume.

Married is your favourite word right now, and it's no surprise to you that Javi's seems to be wife. "Thank you. husband," you beam at him. Your cheeks are aching from smiling so much tonight. "Olivia and Nick were just inviting us to dinner next week. Dinner and a movie?" Apparently it is a Cage family tradition to do once during the week, and Javi was usually included in that, too. It seemed to make sense that you should start to join them as well.

“Would you mind?” He asks, looking ecstatic that you are considering it. “Nick’s library has grown tremendously over the years and now he will even watch his own movies with us and give us the behind the scenes commentary. Those nights are especially fun.”

"I would love to." If it were nothing more than an invitation from some nice, new friends, you would already be excited to accept. But that these are Javi's best friends? It turns the whole thing around and makes it probably the most important invitation you'll get all night. "But I insist on helping with dinner somehow. It's the least I can do."

“Oh, we normally order in.” Olivia tells you with a grin. “But if you want to help me come up with some themed menus for movies, that could be a lot of fun.”

“Absolutely.” Your eyes light up in delight all over again. These are definitely your kind of people. “I love a themed dinner.”

“Oh shit.” Nick huffs, although there’s an indulgent smile on his face. She has been hinting about wanting to do this for some time and she’s found a partner in crime.

"Your soulmate and I are turning out to have lots in common, Javi." Olivia tells him, enjoying Nick's near-exasperation that she has finally found someone to indulge in these ideas with.

"Oh...hardly." You shake your head and wave off that idea. "You have had an entire career with fashion, Olivia. I have a passing interest."

“Well, passing interest is still interest.” She hums. “And we can make sure that we get some fabulous designers to dress you for red carpet events. Sherry was telling me that Javi needs to attend these things.”

"You...would want me to go with you?" Somehow that thought hadn't yet occurred to you, and your eyebrows raise practically to your hairline in surprise when you look up at your husband.

Javi’s face immediately twists into something that could only be described as a pout. “You would not want to go?” He understands that it might not be your favorite activity, you might normally be more introverted than your job allows you to be when giving tours, but he had hoped to share this with you. He would want his soulmate by his side for everything, good and bad. Sharing the successes and lamenting failures.

"No, I would love to go." He looks so much like a puppy when he pouts like that, it might really be the sweetest thing in the world even though you never want him to be sad. It means you have your arms around his waist in less than a second to reassure him. "It never occurred to me that you would bring me with you. It just....hadn't dawned on me yet."

“You are my wife.” He huffs, almost insulted but placated by the notion you just hadn’t thought of it yet. “My soulmate. I want to have you with me for everything.”

"Then I'll be there for everything." Everything is suddenly a much larger notion to you, but it's still amorphous enough not to be daunting. The most important piece of it is him, after all. "Cross my heart."

“And I want to be there for you.” He promises, leaning in to kiss you passionately. Unable to believe he can do that whenever he wants now. “For everything.”

"I don't think," you giggle softly when he finally pulls back and you remember how to breathe again. "That the museum is going to have anything as big or flashy as a red carpet for you to fuss over."

“Then we should have the red carpet event here.” Javi suggests, lighting up at the idea.

"Oookay buddy." Nick chuckles, clapping Javi on one shoulder. "We don't have to plan another party all in one night, right?"

“Sorry.” He chuckles self-consciously as he shoots you a grin. “We should focus on our wedding before anything else.”

"There's no harm in being excited about the future." Though you see from Nick's handling of it and Javi's sheepish reaction that this may be a recurring reaction from your soulmate. He gets very excited about things and maybe gets carried away.

“See?” Javi grins at Nick, making the other man roll his eyes. “My soulmate likes it.” Nick had oftentimes teased Javi that his soulmate would have to be of the opposite disposition to put up with his somewhat free and spontaneous nature.

"I think getting excited for things is well worth it," you admit. "Maybe because there hasn't been too much to get excited about before, who knows. But a book release is the event of the year for me, usually."

“Book releases are important.” Javi agrees sagely. You must have a nice collection of books and it makes him wish he still had the library in Mallorca. You would have loved it.

"You really are my soulmate," you hum, delighted to hear that he likes to read as well.

“Is there any doubt?” He asks playfully and hums as he pulls you closer. “Should we dance? You look like you should dance.”

"We should definitely dance." It is the easiest thing in the world to be drawn away by him, and you won't apologize for the way it makes your heart take wing in your chest. Tonight really is just a perfect dream and he keeps making it better.

He knows the cameraman is still walking around, filming. Parts of this day will end up being in the bonus scenes and he really doesn’t mind. Sweeping you out to the dance floor, he agrees that your dress is perfect without the train. “Have we missed anything you wanted today?”

"Everything has been perfect." Even the sting of not having your family care about tonight has been soothed away by the appearance of this new family knitting together around you, and you hold him as happily close as possible as you move around the ballroom with him. "What about you? What else would make tonight perfect?"

“I cannot think of a single thing.” He admits softly. “Other than figuring out where we would like to spend tonight.”

The question warms you through and makes his hand on your waist feel all the more weighty and important. “Did you have a special idea? Or a preference?” For a moment you wonder if he, like you, has been living an implacably solo lifestyle. There is no way your little studio will be big enough for two.

“I have a little cottage.” Javi admits. “But maybe we can get a suite at a hotel? Make it special?” He wants you to be comfortable, to feel like you had more than just a rushed experience.

“A cottage?” The idea sounds so sweet to you that you almost sigh. “We could…stay at yours tonight? And plan the rest of the weekend over breakfast tomorrow?”

“Are you sure?” He’s a little shocked that you would want to stay in his little cottage rather than in a four star hotel with round the clock room service.

“Well, I would bring you home with me but there’s no way we would both be comfortable,” you reason, not thinking about the luxury for a second.

“I understand.” He nods, aware that you might not want him in your space. “I was just making sure you did not want room service?”

“Room service is fun.” You’ll never deny that. “But all I care about is walking up next to my soulmate tomorrow morning.”

The smile is slow as it spreads across his face, he’s shocked that his cheeks don’t hurt from how much he’s been smiling today. Just another miracle of finding you, finding his other half. “Okay.” He agrees softly. “I will show you my cottage. It’s—” he hesitates. “Temporary.” He promises. “Now that you are my wife, you can help me plan the building.”

“The building?” You ask, but he is already swept up in the music again and humming as he twirls you around the floor, conversation forgotten in favor of so much joy.

The night is perfect. The mood is so joyful that he believes every movie should be kicked off with a wedding. Or maybe it just bodes well for the fate of this movie.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

TUWOP: @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sunnytuliptime @iamladyp @spishsstuff @famouslyanonymous

[van-yangyin]

Cloud Hairstyle for Teen to Elder (FF7)

A hairstyle inspired on Cloud from Remake version for male and female frame from Teen to Elder. This time I've tried something a bit different emulating a bit the KH style but with more strands, so here with higher polycount than usual because of amount of strands I have made for this hair, I love how smooth it has turned out. Hope you enjoy it too! ❤️

PS that I write on my Patreon: My graphics tablet (specifically a Cintiq 13HD) has stopped working since the beginning of this year. I don't know if it's the cable or the connector and I'm waiting for an acquaintance to find time to look into the problem. It wasn't something I had planned for this 2025, so I'm trying my best to find a solution or the unavoidable, as it's my livelihood for work. I'm sorry I'm taking so long to do what I promised would do, but in order to finish some of them I need my graphics tablet, thank you very much for your patience. In the meantime, I'm finishing CC where I don't need it, like this one. This isn't the only CC coming out this month! I will soon reply to all of you who know who are, it has been quite difficult to find time with all this problem that has arisen (my graphics tablet) along with my social anxiety or whatever is wrong with me (I don't have any official diagnosis, I just know that I feel a lot of anxiety). Thank you for your understanding! And already 523 followers here on Tumblr, THANK YOU ALL! ❤️

❤️24 EA Swatches + Cloud swatch ❤️Teen to Elder ～ All genders and agender ❤️Hat compatible ❤️Base game compatible ❤️Child, Toddler and Infant version eventually, this post will notify you that is update if you're following me and have notify activated ❤️All LODs and maps ❤️Texture hair and hair mesh made by me from scratch, based on FF VII remake version. ❤️separate packages or merged packages ❤️HQ Compatible ❤️Custom Thumbnails ❤️CAS photos below ❤️Split hair color compatible [Extra info: I'm currently making changes in this option and expanding considerably the offer of colors and palettes this year (besides placing it in other places so that it doesn't cause problems as it happens with version located in piercings when I have everyday tags in use, although this time it won't only be for split hair color, but it will have many more options available. And maybe I will also make a special palette with all Final Fantasy hair colors of characters that I will make so that all my hairstyles can use those colors too.]

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[emily-beatles-blog]

I have a friend who grew up around the Beatles’ music a lot but never really went deep into the more obscure stuff. For them, I have made a list of my 11 favorite outtakes/alternate versions of songs, compiled from the three volumes of Anthology as well as the super deluxe editions of later albums.

These are NOT ranked from favorite to least favorite or vice versa, just chronological.

1) Leave My Kitten Alone (Anthology 1) — I wanted to include one of the many early cover songs that they did live or in rehearsal that never made it on an album. This is my favorite.

2) If You’ve Got Trouble (Anthology 2) — This is a Lennon/McCartney original that was planned to be on Help! as Ringo’s vocal shot, but Paul and John hated it and switched it for a cover of Act Naturally at the very last second

3) Rain (Take 5/Revolver Super Deluxe) — an actual revelation. It’s just the original backing track to Rain played at its original speed and its incredible.

4) And Your Bird Can Sing (First Version/Revolver Super Deluxe) — I like that this version has a very different sonic texture to the instruments and overall sounds brighter

5) Strawberry Fields Forever (Take 26/Sgt. Pepper Super Deluxe) — I like this version of the song better than the original

6) Your Mother Should Know (Take 27/Anthology 2) — A really interesting take on the song that reminds me a lot of a marching band

7) Circles (Esher Demo/White Album Super Deluxe) — the Esher Demos were Demos that the group made before the White Album, and of the songs that didn’t become official Beatles songs, this is my favorite

8) Two of Us (Glyn Johns mix/Let It Be Super Deluxe) — the best version of the song

9) Because (Anthology 3) — if you only listen to one of these, listen to this one. The best vocals of any Beatles song

10/11: Goodbye (Home Demo) and Come And Get It (Studio Demo) both from Abbey Road Super Deluxe — these are two demos of Lennon-McCartney songs written for *different artists* and went on to become big hits. Its cool to see the originals

Here is a Spotify playlist

[imagine-you]

Reach Out and Touch Faith 8/9 [Steve Harrington/Reader]

Summary: You leave Hawkins for the summer and come back to a total shitshow. The new mall burned down, Chief Hopper and Billy among the causalities, and everyone, including Steve, seems to be hiding something from you. To make matters worse, you keep hearing and seeing Billy, but that can’t be possible. Billy’s dead…isn’t he? Word Count: 3.5k Author’s Note: This is the sequel to Boys Like You. Be warned, there is some angst, but I swear this will have a happy ending. Boys Like You // Read On AO3

"This is so disgusting," you croaked, trying to shake off sticky bits of the gate that clung to your arm.  

"Trust me," Nancy sighed, frowning as she glanced around the dark and desolate version of the mall. "It gets worse." She looked at the gate, considering it for a moment. "If he came through here, why didn't he just crawl back out?" 

"Maybe he couldn't," Steve pointed out, helping Robin pull herself through the twisting, writhing tendrils that held together the only barrier between your world and the Upside Down. "Will was hunted when he was here, right? He was kept from leaving by the demogorgon." 

"So, maybe something's keeping Billy from leaving," you surmised, sharing a worried look with Steve. "You think it's another one of those things? A demogorgon?" 

"Billy faced down the Mind Flayer," Steve reminded you. "I doubt just one demogorgon would keep him from getting back." 

"What if whatever has him trapped keeps us from getting Billy out of here?" Robin asked, worry in her tone. "I mean, are we really prepared for that kind of fight?" 

"We'll have to be careful," Nancy said, lowering her voice. "Let's just do our best to not announce that we're here. Our best bet is to sneak in, grab him, and then sneak out." 

"Right," you agreed, nodding your head. "And how do we do that?" 

From the frown on Nancy's face, you figured she had no idea. 

"It would help if we had a clue about where we should go," Robin interjected, gesturing around the mall. "Hawkins has a lot of hiding places." 

"So, where do we go from here? Where do you think Billy's been hiding all this time?" Steve wondered, looking to you for an answer. "Where would he feel safe?" 

You knew that there were only two places in Hawkins that Billy actually felt safe. Since you were sure he wasn't currently cruising the Upside Down in his ruined car, you knew there was only one place he would go.  

"My house," you answered. "Our house," you corrected yourself. "When he called me, he was sitting in the living room." 

"Think we can make it that far without calling attention to ourselves?" Nancy asked, shooting a questioning look at Steve.  

Steve was still watching you. You knew what he was seeing. Your fear. Your determination. Your longing. Your need to see this through no matter the consequences. If the others tried to leave now, you would just continue on alone. And Steve knew that.  

"We don't have a choice. We have to try," he finally determined, nodding at Nancy. “So, let’s head out.” 

Steve led the group with his bat up, ready to swing at any threats, while Nancy took up the rear of the group. You figured Steve had more experience getting to your house than Nancy did, so it made sense for him to lead the way.  

You tried not to flinch at every little noise. Even Robin accidentally scuffing her shoe had you glancing over your shoulder, sure that you were about to be attacked.  

"Sorry," Robin whispered, wincing at how much her voice carried.  

After leaving the mall, the Upside Down only got freakier. Trekking through the abandoned streets of Hawkins was creepy enough, but the sky regularly lit up with red bolts of lightning.  It was so dark you could hardly see your surroundings, but the red flashing through the sky lent a hellish atmosphere to the nightmare version of your town.  

You kept your gaze on Steve's back, knowing that he would lead you in the right direction. You were so focused on him that you noticed when he tensed before he froze, holding a hand up to stall you, Robin, and Nancy.  

"What is it?" Nancy asked, keeping her voice low.  

"Up ahead," Steve said, nodding towards a spot farther up the street. "Thought I saw movement." 

Steve didn't move, so you stayed put. Of everyone in the group, you had the least experience for whatever the Upside Down could spit out in the hopes it chewed you up, and until you got the all-clear, you weren't moving.  

Finally, Steve started walking again, prompting you to follow him. There was a screech from up ahead and you felt Robin twist a hand into the back of your shirt.  

"Shit, over here," Steve hissed, leading the three of you towards a car covered in vines. He ducked down behind it, reaching out a hand to reel you in to his side. "There's something up there." 

You squinted into the darkness, trying to see what Steve had spotted. It wasn't until the sky lit up again with more lightning that you finally saw it. Whatever it was had wings and sharp teeth and was sitting perched on top of a light pole like a sentinel. It lifted its head and let out another terrifying screech. You worried for a moment that it was calling friends for reinforcements, but when none showed up, you let yourself relax just the slightest.  

"Are you going to shoot it?" Robin asked Nancy, glancing over at her.  

"No," Steve decided before Nancy could answer. "It'll just draw more of them." 

"It hasn't noticed us," you pointed out. "I don't think," you added with a frown.  

"Trust me, if it knew we were here, it would've called in the calvary," Steve whispered, keeping his eyes on the weird creature.  

You worried, though, that the creature might have spotted you before you spotted it. What if there were more waiting for you to let your guard down before swooping in and ripping all of you apart? You knew Steve would never let anything hurt you, but you didn't want anything hurting him.  

You felt restless as you waited for the creature to leave. All you could think about was Billy waiting for you. You were so close to saving him and now you were terrified that you would find obstacles at every turn.  

After what felt like an eternity, the creature finally flew off, letting out one more terrifying screech as it went.  

You stayed crouched down beside the car with the others until Nancy nodded her head.  

"I think we're okay," she said, glancing at the three of you as if waiting to see if you all agreed. "We shouldn't spend too much time here. It might not be safe." 

You had to fight down a nervous laugh at the idea that anything in the Upside Down could be deemed safe. As far as you could tell, nowhere was safe. It seemed like one endless hellscape with nightmarish monsters lurking around waiting to tear you apart. The entire place was one huge trap lying in wait to swallow you whole.  

"Come on," Steve urged, moving to stand up again. He held his bat out in front of him, grip tight on it like he was worried he would need to swing at any moment.  

You followed him, doing your best to scan your surroundings. Now that you were paying more attention, you caught every bit of movement and every sound you couldn't explain away. You could hear Robin breathing softly behind you and the way Nancy was keeping her steps slow and measured. You didn't know how you ended up here among people who had obviously dealt with this specific brand of insanity before, but you felt unprepared for how much stealth was required to not get yourself killed.  

By the time you got to your street, you felt like a nervous wreck. You didn't know how you had gotten so far without having some kind of mental breakdown, but you were going to take the win where you could. For now, all you had to do was get into your house, get Billy, and then get the hell out.  

With any luck, you wouldn't find another one of the demon bats or anything else that might be lurking around.  

Once you got to your house, Steve stepped aside at the front door.  

"You do the honors," he offered, gesturing towards the door.  

You nodded your head and took a step forward. You put your hand on the doorknob of the front door, ready to turn it, before you froze.  

"What is it?" Robin wondered, fear laced into her voice. "Is something wrong?" 

"No," you whispered, shaking your head. "But what if--," you cut yourself off, not even wanting to voice the thoughts suddenly swarming your mind. What if Billy wasn't here? What if you were too late? What if Billy was really dead? What if you were so crazy with grief that you had fabricated all of this as a way to cope? What if all of this had been for nothing? 

You managed to meet Steve's concerned look and he seemed to at least read some of your worries from your expression alone.  

"You don't know until you try," he soothed, reaching out a hand to put on your shoulder. When you still didn't move, Steve hastily handed Robin the bat, ignoring her noise of protest, and brought both of his hands up to frame your face, forcing you to look at him. "I'm right here, alright? And you're not crazy. Whatever you're thinking right now, I've been there before. The first time I dealt with this shit, Nancy pointed a gun at me and threatened to shoot me to get me out of it."  

"You what?" Robin hissed, turning an accusatory look on Nancy.  

"I wasn't going to shoot him," Nancy defended herself. "But Jonathan and I were baiting the demogorgon and Steve was just kind of in the way. I wanted to scare him into leaving." 

"The truth is, I would do just about anything to get you as far away from all this shit as I could. Because I've seen how messed up it is and I know what it can do to you. I thought I was going crazy. Some days, I still think I'm secretly locked up in a nuthouse somewhere dreaming this all up. That first day, I thought there was no way any of it was real. I thought maybe Byers had managed to knock the sense right out of me. But it's real. And I am right here with you telling you that I am not leaving you to face this alone. So, you should open that door and find out for yourself if he's in there waiting for you. Because he's the reason we're here now and we're not leaving without him." 

"Damn," came Robin's soft voice. When you all shot a look at her, she shrugged her shoulders. "What? That was really good." 

You felt a reluctant smile pull at your lips and caught an answering one on Steve's face beneath his mask.  

"Okay," you finally allowed, nodding your head. "I love you," you whispered.  

"I love you too," he responded before tugging down his mask long enough to place a kiss on your cheek.  

You pulled away from Steve and glanced over your shoulder to see Robin and Nancy waiting for you to continue. You felt just the tiniest bit stronger knowing that all three of them were right there with you, willing to back you up in whatever way you might need. You faced the door again and pushed it open, steeling yourself for whatever you might find.  

You walked into the living room, taking in the darkness inside. There were more vines covering the walls and floors. You could hardly see anything, but years of experience with the layout of your house gave you an advantage over the others. Half the furniture was destroyed and the paint on the walls was chipped. The light above the couch was busted and half the stuffing had been ripped out of the cushions.  

And there was no Billy in sight.  

"Where is he?" You heard Robin whisper.  

"Let's split up and look," Nancy decided, reaching out to wrap her fingers in the sleeve of Robin's jacket. "Robin and I will look down here. Steve and Y/N, you'll look upstairs." 

"We should not split up," Robin argued. "Are you kidding? We're in the middle of a horror movie and you're suggesting the worst possible thing to do." 

Steve didn't look like he liked the idea either, but he still nodded his head. "We're all staying in the same house. If you find trouble, just shout," he added before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the stairs.  

Once you got upstairs, Steve let you take the lead. You went to Billy's room first, but didn't find him there. Then you checked the bathroom and your mom's room. You were starting to feel a swell of panic rise within you with every moment of silence you endured without hearing any confirmation from Robin or Nancy that they had found him. If he wasn’t upstairs and he wasn’t downstairs, then where the hell was he? 

It was only Steve's hand gripped tightly in yours that got you through your search.  

Your final stop was your room. You had been so sure that Billy would have sought out his own room for comfort. You held your breath as you swung open the door, hoping that he was there, but when all you found was an empty room, you felt like you couldn't breathe.  

"Billy?" You called, trying to keep your voice low enough that you wouldn't attract unwanted attention. "Are you here?"  

You moved over towards your bed, checking underneath it just to make sure. You shook your head at Steve, catching his disappointed expression.  

You thought maybe you should go downstairs and rejoin Robin and Nancy. Maybe you hadn't covered all your bases yet. There had to be somewhere he would be hiding that you hadn't thought of yet.  

You tried not to feel dejected as you began to follow Steve out of your room. You were nearly past the threshold when you heard something make a soft thump in your room. You quickly turned, surveying the room, before you heard the sound again.  

It was coming from your closet.  

You felt like your heart had lodged itself in your throat. You turned, barely managing to utter a soft 'Steve,' to get him to stop walking, before you were rushing towards your closet.  

You pulled the door open, no longer hesitating, and saw him.  

He was curled up in the corner of the closet, half-hidden beneath clothes that were damp and musty. All you could really see was his face. His eyes were closed and he was so still. You felt terrified as you crouched and reached out a hand to cup his cheek, searching for a sign of life.  

"Billy? It's me. I came to get you," you told him, hating that he had yet to open his eyes. All you wanted was for him to look at you. If he opened his eyes, then you would be able to at least breathe again. Instead, you were caught between terror and relief, not sure which way to land.  

"Steve?" You said, glancing up at him where he was waiting behind you. "Help me?" 

"Yeah," he agreed, moving forward to help you drag Billy out of the closet and onto the floor of your bedroom. He never got his bat back from Robin, so both his hands were free to help you get Billy settled on the floor.  

"Billy," you called again, hovering over him. You reached out to tug free a sweater of yours that had clung stubbornly to his leg. "Billy, c'mon, it's me. I'm here. We're getting you out of here." 

Billy still wasn't moving. You were terrified to think that you might have been too late. What if he was dead? What if he was gone forever when you could have done something sooner?  

You saw Steve reach down and grab Billy's wrist, feeling for a pulse. You decided to tuck two of your fingers up under his jaw, checking for yourself. At first, you didn't feel anything. You pressed harder, searching and hoping, before you finally felt the sluggish beats under your fingers.  

You glanced up at Steve, meeting his eyes, and sighed in relief at his nod of confirmation.  

Billy was alive.  

"It's faint and weak, but it's there," you told Steve. "Billy? Billy, wake up," you said, barely resisting the urge to shake him. You didn't know if he was injured and you definitely didn't want to risk making anything worse.  

You noticed Steve rush out of the room, likely going to tell Nancy and Robin that you found Billy. It didn’t take long before he was back and kneeling at Billy’s side opposite you.  

"We need to get him out of here," Steve decided, moving to put one of Billy's arms around his shoulders. "He's got to get to a hospital. Help me," he directed at you.  

You moved to grab Billy's other arm and slung it over your shoulders. You got him up off the floor with Steve's help, only struggling a little until Steve wrapped an arm around Billy's waist and helped shoulder most of his weight.  

Billy's head lolled forward and you reached out to try to help him out. You startled at the sound of a weak chuckle coming from him before you could even try to tip his head back.  

"Knew you cared, Harrington," he croaked, voice strained and faint.  

It sounded like he had spent hours screaming and the thought only broke your heart. You wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug, but you felt an urgency creep up on you. Now that you had Billy, would you be allowed to leave the Upside Down just as easily as you had entered? You still felt like you were racing a clock, your luck quickly running out, which meant you needed to get back to the gate as soon as possible.  

"Yeah, yeah," Steve said, taking a step forward. "Just put one foot in front of the other and stop slacking." 

Billy let out another weak chuckle. Seeing Billy with his eyes open, all his focus on making himself walk, made you feel like you were going to start crying with sheer relief. Everyone had been telling you for so long that Billy was dead. But here he was. Alive. Whole. Not unharmed, but you would take it. And it was all because he had managed to reach through hell just to haunt you.  

You felt Billy's hand grab the back of your jacket, his fingers scrabbling to get a good hold on the fabric. His grip felt weak, as if he didn't really have the strength, but he needed to anchor himself.  

"You're bein' quiet," he murmured and it took you a moment to realize he was talking to you and not teasing Steve. “’m I scarin’ you, or somethin’?” His words were slurred, but he was still talking, so you took it as a good sign.  

"I'm just thinking about how you're going to hog the bathroom all the time now. I got used to having it all to myself. What a bummer," you joked, feeling your hands begin to tremble. You felt so nervous that you were shaking. Your insides felt like they had been doused with freezing water and your head felt like it would float right up off your shoulders.  

None of it felt real and you were terrified. Terrified that you were dreaming. Terrified that Billy would be snatched away from you again. Terrified that you wouldn't be able to leave.  

"Lookin’ this good takes work," Billy muttered as you got to the top of the stairs.  

You glanced down the stairs to see Robin waiting at the bottom. She shot you a thumbs-up. "Let's go," she whispered. "Nancy's on lookout. She said coast looks clear so far." 

You had to maneuver Billy down the stairs between you and Steve. Steve led the way with Billy between the two of you and you guiding him from behind. By the time you got to the bottom, Billy was practically slumped over on Steve, on the verge of passing out again.  

"Billy?" You tried, moving until you could finally face him. You framed his face in your hands, willing him to look at you. "Just stay with us a little bit longer, okay? We're going to get you out of here. We're going to take you home." 

"We are home," he mumbled. His eyes were unfocused and he looked so out of it that you found it hard not to freak out at the sight of him. Finally, understanding began to creep back into his expression and he managed to nod his head. "Let's get the fuck out of here." 

You let out a relieved laugh before you finally reeled Billy into a hug. It was everything you had needed and you couldn't stop yourself from desperately clinging to him. He was alive. You had to remind yourself of that several times before you finally let him go. You met Steve's eyes over Billy's shoulder, glad that he had been helping Billy stay upright.  

"Let's get the fuck out of here," you echoed. 

taglist: @mysticalfuncollectorus @paintballkid711 @fangeekkk @outoftheregular @thebossiswrongasrain

Author's Note: So, it's been a while!! I definitely didn't plan on being gone for two years, but I honestly got really burned out on writing for Stranger Things and depression hit really hard. I promise that I will finish this and finish out the trilogy which will involve Vecna and Eddie! Thank you to everyone who was so patient waiting for this! I hope it was worth the wait. And if it all seems a little too easy, well…💖💖💖

[strawwritesfic]

Male!Loki x Female!Light Elf!Reader: With Dying Colors

Summary: Not everyone gets the chance to change their fate. Loki Odinson does so by accident, and finds the place he has been searching for all his life.

Rating/Tags: G (Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War; Not Canon Compliant with Loki; References to Loki's Gender Fluidity; Mild Hurt/Comfort; Mild Language; Florence Nightingale Syndrome; Homesteading; Depressed Thor; Background Platonic Relationships)

Word Count: 11,465

Requester: Anonymous

Request: "Hey could I plz request a Loki fem reader? Loki somehow manages to escape Thanos (cause we’re all still in denial of his death) but gets separated from the rest of the Asgardians on the way to Earth. Severely injured he chances it and uses magic to escape and lands in the forest somewhere. He wakes up in a warm cozy cabin all healed but remembers bits of his time here…being fed, washed and nursed back to healthy [sic] by a woman. Reader is an earth witch/half light elf who was banished for her human side and takes care of him but now he doesn’t want to leave cause he starts falling for her. Coincidentally her forest meets up with the forest near the Avengers Compound so she sends them updates on his health, but she also protects him cause Ross wants him locked away in the Raft. She’s more powerful so no one really dares trespass on her land."

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: Wow, it sure has been, like, half a minute, right? This took me a long, long time to write. I had to add scenes; I had to research homesteading; I had to do some adjustments after discovering I was writing a completely different theme towards the end...I've been working on it so long that my own mother started throwing shade at me for it. I don't know for sure if I'm back-back, but I am making an concerted effort to get back to doing things I love. I did my best to complete every aspect of this request, and I think I managed it in a reasonable fashion, save for not telling the story via flashbacks. As the author, I do have some veto power, and I just didn't think the story warranted that.

Ao3 Version Here

With Dying Colors

Lights. Ever-swirling, ever-flashing, ever-sparkling lights. An array of dancing colors surrounded Loki Odinson. He could see the endless shifting of them even with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. The lights danced around him—no. A more apt description would be that the lights rushed around him. He could feel them all moving so rapidly past him that his long, dark hair blew out behind his head, though there ought not be any wind in space.

If this was dying, death was not so nearly as horrible as he'd feared.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Upon further rumination, dying was plenty painful. Thanos must have decided crushing Loki's windpipe had not been punishment enough. Now the Mad Titan sought to crack Loki's skull open with Mjölnir. For Odin's sake, Thanos had already cast Loki to the floor like refuse! Must he suffer further indignities before being allowed to pass?

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Evidently so. The lights having faded into a void of black, Loki pressed his eyelids still tighter as the pain lanced through his head.

—just get it over with already, you overgrown prune, is what Loki intended to say. But he didn't even get the first two words out in understandable form. Trying to do so made him feel as though someone had stuffed his throat with shards of broken glass. A metallic taste filled his mouth, accompanied by some sort of warm liquid. He coughed the molten stuff out from within his burning chest.

"Shhhhhh," someone nearby murmured.

Whoever they were, they weren't Thor. That the voice belonged to a woman made that obvious; Thor had never shared Loki's predilection for swapping genders like clothing. Another of Thanos's monstrous children, perhaps?

Something wet prodded Loki's pounding forehead, and he lurched away—or attempted to. Once again, he found himself with little control over his own body. His shoulders whacked against a hard object that similarly could not be Thor. Even his brother wasn't that flat and unyielding.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Oh, for the love of—" the same voice said crossly.

The cool, damp thing near Loki's face vanished. He heard a squelching sound, then rapid footsteps crossing a floor—a distinctly not metal floor.

Bang! Bang! Ba—

A door opened.

"Miss [Name]," barked a new voice—not an Asgardian accent, Loki noted, and belonging to someone wholly unfamiliar to him, "if you don't—"

"I would request that you keep your voice down, Mr. Secretary," said the woman from before, albeit in a much cooler tone than the one she'd used with Loki.

A thump. Boots on wood, if Loki was not mistaken. His head hurt so badly even the softest noise felt like another blow, but he thought he could identify that much. Whoever this man was, he was now in the...room? Home? Escape pod? Loki finally had to know.

Though his eyelids felt welded shut, he pried them open to find himself somehow miraculously no longer aboard either the Statesman or Sanctuary II. Instead, the sight that greeted him was that of a small room. Night dark as pitch pressed against the windows, leaving only a multitude of candles burning on seemingly every surface to light the place. Their trail his eyes followed all the way to a doorway where two figures stood: a pale-skinned biped with a mustache towering over another biped entirely swallowed in shadows.

"And I," said the mustached one, "request that when I summon you, you come to see me. And if I have to come retrieve you, I request that you open the door at once."

"Mr. Secretary, I would remind you that I am under no obligation to follow your 'summons' at all."

"The Accords clearly state—"

"I may have signed your Accords, but I am not one your chess pieces to be moved at your whim. There were provisions put in place for people like me."

"People like you. Not people like him."

The man pointed in Loki's direction without taking his eyes off the woman. Had Loki been able to speak, he might have had a snide response prepared. But he couldn't, and he didn't, and the smaller figure stepped in front of the finger to shove the man's arm down.

"Please try to remember whose territory you are on, Mr. Secretary. Those provisions do allow me to act in self-defense," she said.

"Self-defense! Aiding and abetting more like." The man let out a scornful laugh. "That man is an intergalactically wanted war criminal!"

"Some might say the same of you in the near future, Mr. Secretary." The woman made to step away, but the man reached out to grab her shoulder before she could get very far.

"I have every right to take him into custody," he said.

The woman wrenched her bare, [color]-skinned shoulder out the man's grasp. "He is in no condition to be moved, especially not to your godsforsaken rock. Do you also have the right to watch him die?"

Though the man said nothing in response, Loki could see a mutinous glitter in his eyes despite the flickering candlelight surrounding all three actors in this little drama.

"He won't receive proper medical care at the Raft. We both know you taking him would be as good as a death sentence."

"I couldn't care less if the little bastard dies!" the man burst out. "How many of our good men and women have died because of him? And you think he ought to be allowed to make a full recovery and murder more?"

"How many more might die without him?" The woman's voice had dropped, and yet she sounded so firm that there could be no question that she meant what she asked. The man stared down at her, speechless once more, but this time his eyes had gone wide. "They're already here, aren't they, Mr. Secretary?" she went on in an innocent tone. "The monsters looking for the Stones? How many of your precious Avengers have already gone missing?"

A shock of ice-cold lightning flashed through Loki's very core. Stones? Avengers? Could he really be so cursed? Whatever stroke of luck had seen him use enough dark magic to escape Thanos with his injuries had been no luck at all. He'd only gotten away as far as Midgard, where at least two damned Infinity Stones waited for their master to claim them. Worse, by the sound of things, Thanos's children had already arrived and already won.

As his heart and mind raced, a burst of white light filled the room. The glare of it burned Loki's already aching head and left a smear of purplish blue across his vision. Terrified, able to breathe only shallowly without bringing more blood into his mouth, he blinked as fast as he could to recover his vision. He could do nothing but accept his fate now, whether that be at Thanos's hands or those of the angry man's, but he preferred to retain some semblance of dignity either way this go-round.

When at last he could see clearly again, however, Thanos did not stand in the wreckage of the building. Nor did any of his children, Loki realized, nor the man from before. Only one person remained, and that was the woman. She had her back toward him as another white light surrounded the door she stood in front of.

Then she turned her face to him. Their eyes met across the dark room. Her angry expression melted at once.

“Oh,” she said, “you’re awake.”

Loki didn’t even manage to open his mouth to answer before his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out from pain and fear.

******

Next Loki woke, he found himself in an airy, well-lit room. Day had broken, and clear sunshine beamed through the many windows on the walls. It was the same place he had woken in previously. The extinguished candles clustered across every visible flat surface were proof enough of that. He could also see the same door from before. Only one other shut door led away from where he lie. Nothing moved around him. Birds chirped outside at such a decibel that he could hardly believe he'd slept through their incessant racket.

Except that he still hurt. Bor, he hurt. But Loki had not lived this long without knowing, generally, what sort of situation he had gotten caught in. Throbbing, stabbing, straining, burning, he pushed himself into a seated position against the stack of pillows behind his head. His gasp for air when he made it felt like a knife lodged deep inside his throat. There would be time to catalog his injuries later, perhaps, and less of a chance of that if he didn't seize this opportunity to take note of where he was.

What he saw surprised him somewhat. Though tidy, the one-room structure held a lot of clutter. In between all the candles sat hunks of rocks and crystals, some polished, others rough. Many were Midgardian in nature, but others Loki could tell at a glance weren't local at all. Piles of books in varying conditions littered the polished wood floor. Every window held at least one plant, each different, each in obviously robust health. Perhaps strangest of all was the mound of pillows and knitted blankets a few feet away from his resting place—the only messy thing in the entire place.

Not that it mattered. This homey little cottage would not last long with Thanos on the way, if he had not arrived during Loki's second bout of unconsciousness. Rather than sitting around and admiring the cleaning job, he needed to be finding a way out. His leg screamed in pain as he forced it out from underneath the sheet and put his foot on the floor. He ignored it. What was a little pain now compared to what he would feel when Thanos got ahold of him again?

"You're not strong enough yet for that sort of nonsense," someone said.

He sucked in a breath so swiftly that it triggered another coughing fit. The taste of blood flooded his mouth once more. His head spun with pain. Something rustled softly over by the door. Then Loki heard footsteps for a second or two before he felt a hard object against his mouth. Before he could gather his wits about him enough to shove the object away, a cold, bitter liquid flowed across his tongue and into his waiting throat. Loki spluttered as much of it entered his lungs, and yet even as he did the pain in his chest subsided somewhat.

Once his breathing evened out, the concoction stopped pouring into his mouth. The hard object vanished. Loki inhaled tremulously.

"I told you that you weren't strong enough," said the same voice from before. Now that he thought about it, Loki recognized the voice as belonging to the woman who had kept him safe the last time he'd been awake.

It was she that sat beside him now. His eyes met hers consciously for the first time—beautiful, sparkling, [color], and indignant. Definitely indignant. How women across so many realms and cultures could master the same look was a mystery for the ages. She didn't give him a chance to ask. With a snort, she stood and bustled over to the door through which the mustached man had burst before. After she'd gathered a weaved basket into her arms, she stepped over to a nearby kitchen hung with shining copper pots and bouquets of drying herbs.

"That was hardly my fault," Loki said into the silence. "You startled me. I didn't realize I had company."

The woman smiled at him over her still-bare shoulder. "You don't. You're company. And from the stories I've heard, Loki of Asgard ought to be a little more difficult to catch unawares."

"You'll forgive me if my near-death experience put me a little off my game."

Again, she said nothing. The sink turned on without a touch as you unloaded dirt-encrusted vegetables from the basket. Interesting. Though the room held many trappings of the bog-standard Midgardian witch, Loki had never seen a Midgardian perform any sort of magic, mundane or not.

"And to whom should I direct my thanks for saving my life?" he asked pointedly.

"Me. Mostly."

"Yes, and who is me?"

She paused in unloading her foodstuffs to give him a pursed-lipped look. Then her head whipped back away from him again she replied, "[Name]."

"[Name]." The sound of it tasted interesting on his tongue. "Thank you, [Name]."

"Don't thank me. I wouldn't say you're out of the woods yet."

Loki lifted a hand to his ruined throat. "So I've noticed. And may I ask..."

Well, now that he thought about it, he had a plethora of questions. A given name hardly got him anywhere. But before he could select a single query from the dizzying array crowding his mind, you supplied an answer him:

"I don't know."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know what happened. The cards have been cryptic." Was that a note of annoyance he heard in your voice? "All I've got from them is something about Thanos and the Infinity Stones. I don't even think you’re supposed to be here."

He hardly registered that last sentence. The mere mention of the Mad Titan made Loki feel very cold even underneath the considerable bulk of his blanket. His voice sounded even raspier when he spluttered, "Are they—has he—"

"He's not here."

              "How would you know?"

"I'd know." You dropped your now-empty basket onto the gleaming wood countertop. Perhaps you spotted the horror in Loki's eyes as you turned to him, because you went on, "And if I didn't, my next-door neighbors would let me know."

"Neighbors?" Loki squeaked. Clearing his throat only made his vocal cords throb.

You didn't remark on that, just nodded slowly. "They're the ones that brought you to me a few days ago."

At last, something that Loki could latch on to! Even the vaguest of clues as to his location would aid him in working out a spell. He'd escaped from Thanos once; he could do it again.

"And where, exactly, might your neighbors have found me?" he asked.

You opened your mouth. Loki leaned forward in anticipation. Before you could utter a single word, however, someone knocked on the door. The noise was a far cry from the incessant, head-rending banging of earlier. Still, he noticed that your normally [color] skin paled several shades at the sound.

"That's probably them now," you said.

That didn't quite explain your change in color or the jittery way you rushed over to the door. Loki's eyes followed you there. Too late did he think to pull the blanket over his head to hide himself. In his current condition, it would have been a struggle to do so before you opened it to reveal —

"Steve? Natasha?"

At least you sounded as horrified as he felt by the sudden appearance of two Avengers on your doorstep. They could be no other, though they didn't look quite right. The former had dark hair now, as well as a beard, and the latter had turned blonde. But who else could it be? Who else would show up at Loki's weakest point?

His alarm increased as you threw your arms briefly around Natasha. The alarm swiftly turned into suspicion when he noticed she made no move to throw you off.

"I don’t understand," you said, as you released her and allowed the two to enter your home. "Why are you back? Where's Tony?"

"We're not sure," Steve answered.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than did his and Loki's eyes meet across the room. Loki noticed that Steve's gaze had changed just as drastically as his appearance in the intervening years. Much of the sadness was gone. Now there was just some blazing hardness dampened not at all as he took in Loki's injuries. Loki knew that Natasha was looking at him, too, but he was too busy with his staring contest with Steve to pay her much mind.

Oddly, he felt no satisfaction whatsoever when Steve broke their stare off to return his attention to you:

"How's your patient?"

You didn't miss a beat. "Not well."

"Can you leave him?"

"No."

"Is moving him an option?"

"Absolutely not."

"Better question." Loki started painfully at the sound of Natasha's voice right next to him. She'd come to stand beside his bed, arms crossed, the look in her eyes even colder than Steve's had been. "Do we care what happens to him?"

Of course. Of course Loki had escaped the greatest threat the universe had ever seen—for a given value of "escape," he had to admit—only to die at the hands of the so-called heroes his brother had considered his friends. At least Steve's presence was likely to ensure Loki's death came swiftly. If Thanos's children were already scouting out the planet, perhaps Natasha would even be doing him a favor.

"Rhodey wouldn't have told us he was here if what happens to him didn't matter," Steve said.

"If he can't help us, I fail to see what benefit there is in keeping him alive."

"Help you with what?" you cut in, voice as sharp as steel.

Natasha stepped away from Loki. He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Relaxing his muscles made the blood rush through his body so hard it made him dizzy—but it did not distract him from hearing Steve's answer to your question:

"We're going to Wakanda. They can remove Vision's Stone there without killing him."

"We hope," said Natasha.

"It will work."

"Sounds great." You didn't sound like you agreed with your own sentiment. "What do you need either of us for to do that?"

"They'll come, [Name]. We'll have the last of the Stones with us. They'll all come. Maybe even Thanos himself."

"You'd be a huge asset," Natasha added.

"We could use all the help we can get. And that includes Loki."

Suddenly, all eyes were on Loki. He licked his lips. "And why should I bother to help you all?" he rasped at last.

No one looked surprised by this question. Steve's eyebrows lifted slightly before he said, "It's your universe at risk, too. And from the sound of it, you wouldn't have made it very long if Tony and Rhodey hadn’t brought you here."

"Oh, yes, thank you.” His lip curled; he hoped that Steve could not hear his wildly beating heart. "Thank you so much for the rescue. And just in time to be obliterated along with the rest of reality! You shouldn't have."

"We're going to do our best not to let that happen. What about you, [Name]?" he asked as he turned back to you.

Loki felt rather than saw your gaze on him, searching and gentle. He found that he could not lift his head to meet your eyes. Then, in a soft tone full of regret, you said:

"I can't."

"If we lose this, there's a good chance he'll die anyway," said Natasha.

"He'll die for sure without anyone here to look after him."

She opened her mouth, but whatever nasty remark she planned to make next, Steve silenced her with a hand on her shoulder.

"We understand," he told you.

You nodded.

Without another word, the two Avengers left the cabin. You watched them go until Natasha pulled the door shut behind them. Silence buzzed through the room like electricity. You did not move. So long did you stare at the door that Loki half-expected it to burst into flame; the same could be said about the length of time he spent staring at the back of your head. He opened his mouth, found it dry, licked his lips, and tried to speak evenly:

"If you hurry, you could still catch up with them."

You shook your head, turning to head back to his bedside.

"Truly," he said. "I can make it on my own. Why, I only feel mostly like dying now instead of completely like dying."

"And you only feel that good because I've been here to take care of you." From the silver pitcher on the bedside table, you poured some smoking, purple concoction into the nearby cup. Then you sat down on the edge of the bed and held it out to him. "Speaking of, drink this."

A delicate sniff of the cup thrust toward him indicated that this was the same bitter brew you'd forced down his throat earlier. He did not take it. "I am a god. I can take care of myself."

"If I leave, you won't make it until tomorrow. This stuff doesn't keep, and you can't make it yourself." When Loki made no move to take the cup from you, you rolled your eyes. "Same thing if you won't drink your medicine."

He wrinkled his nose, but accepted the glass. Instead of swallowing the foul-smelling stuff, he cradled it in his hands. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"I don't think even one life should be given up if I have the power to save it. That's all," you said.

"Even if they could die anyway?"

"Even if they could die anyway." You cocked your head to one side, regarding him quietly for a few moments. Then you stood again. "Drink up, and get some rest. Hopefully the rest of the world will still be here the next time you're awake."

A sudden surge in pain obliterated Loki's desire to retort. Steeling himself, he lifted the potion to his lips and gulped it down as quickly as he could. The relief came over him almost at once, so heady that it made his head spin. Darkness crept into the edges of his vision. Before he could wonder if this was Thanos's victory, natural sleep overtook him. Perhaps dying this way would be easier, he thought, than what might face him later in that tiny cabin.

******

The potion’s effects only did so much for him after that dose. Loki slept fitfully, plagued by a leaden weight in his stomach that even sleep could not dispel. His dreams ended in exploding planets, in melting cities, in scorching pain. All the magic sedative coursing through his system did was drag him along from one cataclysm to the next. Try as he might, he could not tear himself into the hellscape of his reality—not until a loud clang issued from somewhere nearby.

“Owwww!” Loki snapped as he forced his eyelids open. At least this awakening did not hurt as badly as the last two had. The clear, watery light of morning only worsened his headache a little as opposed to a tremendous degree.

And he knew where he was. That helped. Though the panic searing the inside of his rib cage did not abate, he doubted that anyone observing him would be able to tell that at a glance. At least he managed to refrain from throwing himself out of the bed this time. This allowed him to maintain some dignity as he searched for the source of the noise.

And there you stood in the kitchen. One of those copper pots sat steaming on the island. As though you could sense his eyes on you, you looked up from your stirring.

“Congratulations. The rest of the world is still here,” you said.

How little he cared about this backwater rock when Thanos could set the entire known universe on fire should he succeed in wresting the last Infinity Stone from Steve's all-too-human fingers. Biting back this retort, Loki struggled into a seated position. He was pleased to find himself recovered enough to do so on his own.

“So I see,” he said at last, once he noticed you watching him. “So did your friends…” he didn’t quite know how to finish that sentence. He didn’t quite know which question he wanted answered, or what answer he wanted to hear either.

You shook your head. “I won’t hear back from them unless they get back.”

“Not even your precious cards could tell you?”

“Even if they could, I wouldn’t ask. All I can tell you is that you and I are still standing.”

‘In a manner of speaking.’ Loki took a moment to glower at his weak legs. “Yes. How much longer will that be the case, I wonder.”

“There’s no use fatalizing about it. Would you like some porridge?”

The gears in Loki’s mind took several seconds to adjust to the abrupt change of subject. Unfortunately, the moment he gave any real thought to the sweet aroma wafting from the pot, his stomach rolled so badly he couldn’t open his mouth to reply. Who knew what sort of muck might pour out of it, given all the strange things you’d forced down his throat during your short acquaintance?

“I’ll add something to your medicine to help with nausea.” A note of sympathy had crept into your voice. “We need to get something solid in your stomach before too much longer.”

Making breakfast, gathering food, healing him—what good would all of this effort do in the end? Probably you just wanted a distraction from the inevitable doom you both faced. Thor’s ragtag bunch of misfits had defeated Loki, but he was in no condition to consider himself a threat the same level as Thanos. The Avengers didn’t even have Thor anymore.

Loki’s eyes suddenly burned, and his throat felt all over again the pressure of Thanos’s enormous fingers. The thought of what might have happened to his brother in the aftermath of Loki’s escape would not bear thinking about. Time to focus on other things.

There wasn’t much else to focus on but you, however. He watched as you doled out a serving a mush into a waiting wooden bowl. You ate it quickly. Then you took your pot and carefully spooned the rest of the food into a line of glass jars sitting on the countertop.

Loki noticed that you moved differently than other Midgardians, now that he could stop and take the time to observe you at length—more graceful, more intentional, with no wasted movements whatsoever. Mortals could be taught to replicate such movement, but they could never achieve the same kind of ability as beings superior to them.

Only when you’d easily hefted the heavy object over to the sink did he finally say, “You’re not human, are you?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, expression guarded. “Half,” you said at last, then shifted some hair away from one of your ears. Doing so revealed that ear to end in a perfect, delicate point.

“You’re a light elf,” Loki said wonderingly.

“Half,” you said again, before returning to the chore of cleaning your dishes.

“What are you doing so far from Alfheim?”

“The whole half-human thing? Yeah, it didn’t exactly endear me to my family there.”

“But why here? There are light-elf communes in the realm.”

“Those jackasses at the North Pole declined to house me as well. One human per pole, apparently. And half-humans count.”

“There’s an entire galaxy out there. You could have gone anywhere.”

“By then, I’d figured out I was better off on my own.” Water continued to run over your hands and bare forearms, but these had stilled. Your gaze was fixed on some distant point in time. Then it snapped back to his face. “It was a long time ago. I went to SHIELD, traded a few goods and services for secrecy. And Howard Stark let me build a place near where he was stationed. I’ve been here ever since.”

“That sounds…lonely.” Lonely in a way that Loki understood; lonely in a way he’d always felt growing up, although he hadn’t understood why—lonely in the way he’d been after he had discovered his true heritage.

You shrugged flippantly. “It worked pretty well up until the Accords. Now I’ve always got Ross breathing down my neck.”

“The Accords?”

“It’s an Avengers thing, or at least Ross wants it to be.”

“So you—”

“Are not an Avenger.” Finished with cleaning, you tipped the pot onto the counter upside down, dried your hands on the waiting towel, then turned to face him. “I’ve never been one, and I’ll never be one.”

Loki found his body loosening somewhat after this revelation. Strange. He hadn’t noticed he’d been so taut to begin with. “And yet they came to you for aid,” he pointed out.

“I do aid them, sometimes. But not because some Midgardian law says I have to. Like I said before, if I have the power to save one life I’ll do it, whether or not my neighbors believe that life is worth saving. If anyone can get rid of Thanos, it’s them. But they couldn’t save you.”

“Is a single life worth saving if they can’t?”

“I guess that’s up to the person whose life it is.”

“And the life Thanos leaves them with.”

He noticed then you had gone very still. You cocked your head to one side and regarded him down your nose. “Do you regret it? Being saved?”

Loki inhaled sharply. How could he answer that question? For all the aggravation and fear he felt about his present circumstances, to reply in the negative would be terribly rude. Your bedside manner left much to be desired. Your skill in healing, on the other hand…

The sudden disintegration of half the plants in the room saved him from having to voice his thoughts. Your eyes locked onto his. Neither of you breathed a word. Somehow Loki still knew your thoughts to be the same: The Avengers had at last done the unthinkable. They had failed.

******

Some things Loki grew accustomed to over the years following what came to be called "The Snap." He grew accustomed to the new, permanent roughness of his voice. He grew accustomed to the slight limp from his injuries becoming more pronounced when the wind turned cold. He grew accustomed to eating food only available seasonally, to working for that food, to sharing a smaller space than he'd ever lived in before. He grew used to braiding his lengthening hair each day. He even grew accustomed to the smell of the chicken coop.

That day, the stench was worse than most others. An unexpected rainstorm had blown in overnight, and left everything damp or dripping, from the branches overhead to the edges of the roof. Loki shook his hood back as he made to the door, scuffed his worn boots on the welcome mat, and entered the cabin.

"Breakfast," he announced, somewhat breathless after his run for cover.

You stood already working at the stove. He placed the basket he carried in an empty space near your elbow. After a quick glance at his sodden figure, you reached under the piece of cloth he'd placed over the eggs, pulled two out, and cracked them over the skillet. Only once the food was sizzling did you offer him a warm smile.

Instead of saying anything, Loki swallowed and did his best to avoid your gaze.

"Thanks," you said into the silence.

"I had no issues with gathering eggs for you this morning. I wanted to check on Gunnhild myself."

"How is she?"

Loki hummed noncommittally as he went to a drawer for cutlery to set the table. He couldn't quite put words to the worry he felt nowadays over so much as Midgardian hens of all things. Perhaps he felt obligated to keep alive as many beings as he could after Thanos had taken so much. After finding one of his ladies so lethargic the evening prior, he'd spent a long, sleepless night fretting over her condition until he could trek to the pen under the pretense of helping with the morning meal. Truth be told, Gunnhild had seemed livelier then, but still, his thoughts continued to linger over her when he sat down in one of the two heavy wooden chairs.

The sound of a plate being placed in front of him snapped Loki from his musings. He did not know if he liked the understanding look you shot him as you slid into your own seat across from him. His stomach twisted painfully until he looked away from your face again.

Add that to the somewhat shorter list of things Loki had not grown accustomed to since the Snap.

"I'll put a little something extra in the feed today. She'll hardly know she had a respiratory infection."

More and more often lately, Loki found himself unable to meet your eyes, and when he did force himself to do so, his insides would suddenly feel hot. Had he been a younger or more ignorant being, he might have been inclined to blame the numerous concoctions you forced him to drink (some days with more arm-twisting than others) even this much time after his near-fatal injuries. You seemed to have magic for every aliment known, for chicken and Jotun alike. Why not a philter as well?

But he had been alive long enough—been in love often enough—to know the truth. These physical sensations had nothing to do with your talents, and everything to do with his...isolation? Rescue? Maturing?

He had never believed himself to be one of those fools capable of falling head over heels for someone for no greater reason than that they had nursed him back to health. What a pathetic way to return the kindness you had shown him—all the panaceas grudgingly swallowed; all the staggering walks contemptuously taken; all the nights you'd slept in a makeshift nest of quilts when Loki disdainfully refused to leave your bed.

The sudden lack of people in the world had not put the responsibility of his rehabilitation on your shoulders. You had taken that on willingly well before the Snap. But he did believe that, had Thanos not succeeded, you might have happily ended up without such of a chore of a lingering houseguest. Every morning he woke began anew a day you could decide Loki had overstayed his welcome. His only consolation was that, surely, these feelings would fallow once he no longer came in contact with you.

But then surely, too, his body would fall apart without your aid. So Loki kept his mouth shut. Cohabitating with you while keeping his growing romanticism a secret was difficult; he shuddered to think of the alternatives left to him in this half-empty universe.

Once again, you interrupted his thoughts, this time with a wry observation of: "You're overthinking something again."

His rough gulp hardly helped his case any more than the following, "I am not."

"You are."

I should think I know my own thoughts better than you do."

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Loki of Asgard isn't nearly as difficult to read as he thinks he is. Your mouth gets these deep wrinkles at the corners, and..." Trailing off, you frowned before you leaned forward to grasp the hand he had resting on the table. "Is that what this is about?"

You must have seen his split-second grimace when you'd referred to him in that mocking way of yours. If you'd noticed that, he had no doubt you'd spotted the way he stiffened when you touched him like that as well. Be that as it may, you kept your fingers lightly resting against his as you went on:

"We need to talk about it."

“I don't have the faintest idea what it is there is to discuss," he answered firmly.

You laughed. The sound made Loki's chest ache. "You do."

"I assure you I do not. And if you're going to insist on this level of condescension, I'd much prefer to get some work done than sit around listening to your riddles. Now, if you'll excuse me—"

"Why don't you go ahead and admit that you were eavesdropping when Natasha visited last night?"

If your iron grip hadn't been enough to keep Loki rooted to his chair, your question would. He felt blood rush to his face, try as he might to fight the urge to blush. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, knowing all the while that he would not hit quite the right note to express his feigned incredulity.

You did not answer. Neither did your hand loosen. A staring contest ensued, though it did not last long. Loki knew better than to argue when he spotted the familiar gleam there. What would be the point in lying anyway, when this Borforesaken rasp had so ruined his famous silver tongue? After another moment or two of internal debate, he finally wilted.

"If you already knew I knew, why not say something sooner?" he asked.

"You'll need to learn someday that those who eavesdrop often hear things they don't like."

"And those who refuse to eavesdrop often hear nothing worth hearing at all."

"You could simply quit lurking around and speak with us face-to-face."

"And risk the conversation turning to naught but insults targeting me? You'll have to forgive me for preferring to 'lurk' for what morsels of information your friends deign to offer you in secret."

"There was no secret."

"Oh?" Trapped as he was with his hands bound to the table, Loki's only escape was to avert his eyes to the rain-streaked window near the table. "If it was common knowledge, why not bring it up yourself without having to pry it out of me?"

You let go of him and held your hands up in a galactic sign of surrender that he could only see out of the corner of his eye. "I did not wish to upset you unduly."

"Upset me? Is that what you think? You think that I'm upset that my people have established a settlement in this Realm and are attempting to move on?"

"Aren't you?"

"Obviously not!"

Once more, Loki felt instead of saw your probing look. He folded his arms across his chest and carefully avoided so much as turning his head in your direction. This seemed to succeed in getting you to drop the subject; you said nothing else. Then you pushed your chair away from the table with an almighty screech and a firm, "Let's get you packed, then."

He couldn't help rising to his feet after you in his panic. "What?"

"Let's get you packed," you repeated. "New Asgard awaits the coronation of its king."

"Let it wait! Forever, if it must!"

"Why should it? Natasha's told me all about how badly you want to rule."

"Wanted. Wanted. That was a different time. A different me!"

Loki's heart had not hammered so hard since the moment of the Snap. Distantly, he realized that the exertion did not cause him as much pain as it used to. But would it be enough?

You did appear to notice his desperation, for you paused in some gesture that seemed to have caused his toothbrush to float out of its cup. Silence fell. He realized you were waiting for him to explain himself. Of all the cruelties you had enacted upon him, this perhaps might have been the cruelest of them all.

"New Asgard—" His breath hitched. Loki licked his lips and tried again, "New Asgard little needs yet another descendant of Odin on the throne. Let Brunnhilde keep the crown. I want it not."

Though admitting as much made him in ache in a way Thanos's assault had not, Loki knew the years since that assault had changed him. Between his inglorious defeat on this very planet, the series of humiliations leading up to Ragnarök, and his near-death among the Asgardian refugees, he had learned to see himself more clearly. Leadership did not suit him as he'd once convinced himself it had. And besides, what good would it do for what remained of the spirit of his childhood home? Being among his people again would only remind him more sharply of what he'd lost—their true ruler amongst the most grievous of those losses.

"Then what do you want, Loki?" you asked softly.

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Thought hard about his answer to your question.

It came without as much thought as he'd expected. So few of his responses were even possible anymore. But those that were surprised even himself. He wanted to learn the subtle ways of Midgardian magic. He wanted to memorize the patterns of the stars in this Realm. He wanted to eat vegetables and fruits and grains grown by the power of his own hands. He wanted to look after his chickens until they died at venerable ages. And to do all of that, any of that, there could be only one reply:

"I want to stay here," he whispered, so quietly he did not even know if he wanted you hear him.

But hear him you did. A dazzling smile the likes of which he'd never seen before spread across your face. Then, without giving Loki a chance to grasp the meaning of such an expression, you rushed forward and threw your arms around him in a suffocating embrace.

"Then stay," you breathed in his ear.

The surprise he felt at your sudden closeness dissipated rapidly. Soon, Loki wrapped his own arms around you in turn. He did not know how long the two of you stayed tangled up like that before you finally released him. But when you did, you looked so smug that he couldn't help but add:

"It's not as though I have any choice in the matter. I'd die in a week without your care."

"Oh, that." The smug smile transformed into a smirk. "I've been giving you placebos for months now. You're as mended as you'll ever be."

His jaw dropped nearly to the floor, causing a glorious peal of laughter to tumble from your mouth.

"You whined so much. What else could I do?" you asked by way of explanation.

"You fox!" he said, though he couldn't find it himself to be truly enraged. It was the sort of thing he'd have done to his brother, after all. Who would have thought he'd have found a kindred spirit in the middle of nowhere on Midgard of all places?

You neared again, now gazing directly into his eyes. "But you love me."

"That," Loki said as he cupped your cheek and brushed his thumb over the [color] skin there, "I believe to be unequivocally true."

******

More time passed, on the Podunk little rock Loki had once schemed to make his own just as slowly as it did in the greater, emptier galaxy. Seasons passed. The half-obliterated woods around the cabin grew thicker and greener every summer. Native creatures once sparse in the area returned in larger numbers.

There were no servants to lay out his clothes, nor banquets with food-laden tables as far as the eye could see. But there were fruits and vegetables brought forth by his own hands, homespun tunics created with care, and fresh eggs in abundance from his ever-increasing brood of chickens. There was bright sunlight by day and warm candlelight by night. But best of all, there was you.

Well, most of the time you kept close to the cabin you both called home. Nearly five years to the day since the Snap, Loki stood alone in the kitchen. He hardly ever wandered far afield those days. What reason had he to do so? Surely Ross had not been the only Midgardian eager to see Loki pay for his crimes, and Loki was hardly a welcome visitor at the Avengers headquarters on the other side of the forest—which was the second most common place to find you, and where you'd traipsed off to during the still-dark hours that morning.

Loki found himself worrying over his pot of stew more than he'd have liked to admit now that it had grown dark once again. Not about the stew, not this time; he felt he had accomplished making a perfectly edible, if not very exciting, stew with produce from the garden you and he had canned that fall. Given that he'd hardly been offered much opportunity to create purposefully edible meals as Asgardian royalty, no one could deny this to be a culinary accomplishment on his part.

You hardly ever kept him waiting this long for you to return from the large, ugly compound. He could not begrudge you going to see friends. On the other hand, he knew how the remaining Avengers still felt about him. It was the same way he felt about them. If any of them had the silver tongue he had had once...

Before he could spiral into the possessive behavior he inclined toward despite your frequent admonishments, he heard the sound of footsteps—barely. Light elves moved so lightly he would not have heard your approach had he not been listening so closely for it. The door swung open shortly after this noise, and you stepped inside the room already filled with lit candles.

"I'm home," you said cheerily, and unnecessarily.

"So I see." Loki gave the pot below him a pointed stir. "Did you enjoy your time with your...friends?"

"If you're going to be a sourpuss, I won't give you your surprise."

"I hardly want whatever gift the lovely Natasha might have sent along with you."

"It's from me. Do you want it? Yes or no?"

He knew better what you meant by the appraising look you shot him: Play along, or pay the price. "Please," he said as flatly as he could. Though you never used your considerable powers to hurt, he knew that an outright refusal on his part would probably wind up with him sprouting a pair of donkey ears for the foreseeable future, or something equally annoying and hard to explain when your neighbors inevitably came by to mock him.

You grinned despite his obvious lack of enthusiasm. One of your fingers made a series of shapes in the air. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, your familiar basket appeared next to Loki's elbow. A simple blue-and-white checked towel covered its contents.

"Open it," you said when all he did was squint at you.

It wasn't moving, so Loki took that to mean lifting the fabric would not be dangerous. Nestled underneath sat a pile of off-white mushrooms with brain-like knobs atop the stems.

"We went a little over during the meeting. I knew you'd have already started dinner. When I stumbled on these little guys on my way home, I picked them up for you as a treat."

All fear of Natasha finally convincing you to give him up died away for the moment. Loki pressed his lips together in a smile. "They're the perfect addition," he said, pulling the recently-cleaned cutting board toward him and starting to chop.

Your smile grew as you walked around him to gather bowls. "You're welcome."

"So what went on that took so long? Rewatching footage of Captain America's glory days?"

Instead of chastising him for his snide tone, you simply answered: "I thought you said you didn't want to be involved in anything we got up to."

"I don't."

"Then let's not talk about it anymore."

Loki spilled the sliced fungi into the pot with something of a startled expression. You would normally find something of note to tell him after a two-hour conversation with the Avengers, and yet you had nothing to relay after being with them all day?

"[Name], what are you hiding?"

"Is the stew ready yet?"

"You're trying to distract me."

"No," you drew the word out as you sat the last utensil on the table. He caught a flash of mischief in your [color] eyes. You bared your teeth in a wicked grin. Then you sauntered forward and looked him up and down before you slid your hands up his shoulders to interlock them behind his neck. "This is me trying to distract you."

You pressed your mouth to his without sparing him a moment to retort. Loki did not forget the thread of the conversation, per se, but kissing you back seemed of greater importance than pursuing the matter. Who cared about the inconsequential scheming of those who had already lost everything? Certainly not him, not when, egged on by his enthusiastic response, you smiled against his lips and surged forward. He had no choice but to let you push him onto the nearby counter to allow you space to work.

"Still curious about what I got up to this afternoon?" you asked during a brief pause.

"Not in the slightest," Loki said honestly. He cupped your face to pull you closer to him again.

By all rights, it ought to have turned out to be a very good day: a stew with fresh mushrooms; your eagerness to touch him, even simply as a distractoin. Loki might have been perfectly content to remain distracted had something not slammed open the door just as something besides dinner began to heat up.

You whirled to face the intrusion—but you moved no further, frozen, it appeared, by the massive shape moving through the doorway.

"Thor?" you asked.

"Thor?" Loki echoed, bewildered.

The shape crossed into what little light the multitude of lit candles allowed, and still Loki could not believe it. Whoever had burst in could not be his brother. His brother was dead, not to mention Thor would never let himself go to such a degree. This being looked thicker and flabbier than Volstagg on his worst days. They also had stringy hair and a scraggly beard that obviously had not been washed in some time.

"You followed me?" You sounded outraged, which typically spelled trouble for the offending party.

Thor—or whoever the shape was—did not spare you a glance, terrified or otherwise. Their eyes remained fixated on Loki's face, and as Loki met their gaze, he felt a spark of recognizing flare hot and painful somewhere deep inside his stomach.

"I had to see it for myself," the apparent stranger rumbled.

And that was all it took. Loki slid off the counter and stepped around you. A torrent of emotions constricted his chest. The room around him spun. After a minute or so of thick swallowing and struggled, he managed to open wide his arms and step in Thor's direction.

"Brother, you're alive!"

Thor did not meet Loki's cheer with any of his own. "So this is where you ran off to hide."

Loki felt his smile slide off his face. "Pardon me?"

"I thought you were dead. I mourned you."

"As I did for you. I thought surely Thanos—"

"I should have known your vanishing was nothing more than yet another trick!"

"Well, I confess to using a smidgen of magic to get me here, but—"

"We needed you. The galaxy needed you. I needed you!"

With every statement, Thor's voice grew louder and louder. Rarely since his brother's exile had Loki seen him so enraged. He stared as the noise washed over him, and allowed his arms to drop to his sides. These stayed there when Thor took another step in Loki's direction.

"Perhaps it was a lie. Perhaps you always intended to aid Thanos in achieving his wicked goal."

You stepped forward to put yourself between the two men. "Hey. He was in no condition to fight. If he'd gone to Wakanda, he would have died for sure."

"As he had me believe he already had for five years. My brother chose his own life over half the galaxy." Thor's eyes flicked disdainfully between you and Loki, a gesture at odds with the bright red of his face. "But I should not be so surprised. Loki has always been a coward."

"Don't you—"

"[Name]."

Loki spoke the word softly, but his tone must have gotten through to you. Now you spun to gape at him. He merely held his hand out in a quelling gesture and told Thor:

"You're right."

It had taken a long time—eons, really—for Loki to accept the truth about himself—a long time and nearly dying more than once. If he could go back and change things, he would. How different would things be for everyone if Loki had never spent that time being coddled by the Grand Master, or masqueraded as Odin for so long, or agreed to invade Asgard, or even led Laufey through the secret passages to the palace? Always he had served himself. What argument had he that a different choice would not have saved untold lives just as Thor claimed?

But as things stood, Loki could not even change Thor's thunderous expression with his admission.

"You have changed, Brother, and not for the better."

"Perhaps I have changed," Loki conceded. "But is this not what you have always wanted for me? Living quietly, not causing trouble? Happy?"

"Happy at what expense, Loki? At least I am still trying. I am still fighting!"

"Are you? Judging by the state of your facial hair, I'd hazard a guess that's a more recent development."

"Loki," Thor growled through clenched teeth.

"You say I've changed for the worst? Fine. No one is inviting you stay for dinner and to get to know the new me or the person I've chosen to stay with."

Silence rang audibly through the dark cabin, punctuated only by the bubbling stew. Thor inhaled slowly. His shoulders migrated to up around his ears. Loki braced himself for a tirade that would have made their father proud. Instead, Thor's voice was flat and emotionless as he said:

"As usual, I will clean up your mess, Brother. And if in doing so, you are the one lost, perhaps this time I will not feel the grief of it."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than did Thor leave. He slammed the door behind him with such might that the whole cabin shook and several candles blew out. The sound of Thor's heavy footsteps faded quickly into the dark woods beyond.

"Loki?"

He had not realized he'd been staring at the place Thor had stood until you spoke his name. All he did in response was blink. Your warm hand enveloped his own, though this did nothing to quell his sudden tremors.

"Loki."

Words failed him. For the first time in his memory, Loki could think of nothing appropriate to say. Pain did not hold his tongue, nor injury, simply the fact that nothing would come to mind; nothing seemed to matter. But speak he must, or he risked standing there in the dark forever.

"How long?" he asked.

"What?"

"How long, [Name]?"

The fingers around his tightened.

"How long have you known my brother was alive?"

At last, he wrenched his hand free and turned to look at you. Tears sparkled in those eyes that had only a little while ago been gleaming with affection. That told Loki enough. He no longer needed you to answer.

"All this time," his mouth felt thick and clumsy, so he tried again with little improvement: "All this time, you knew. You knew Thor lived, and yet you allowed me to go on assuming otherwise!"

"If you'd just let me explain—"

"What is there to explain? I've spoken to you of the guilt I've felt over his death. You, of all people, knew what he meant to me. You could have freed me from all of that, yet you did not! What, did you believe I'd choose him over you? That I would flee to New Asgard the moment I realized my last remaining family member lived?"

The words were not as sharp as they once could have been. The tone itself was no longer smooth as velvet. They rose and fell like an overused axe. But the blow landed. You flinched.

Loki found he did not much care whether you did so because his words were true or his hysteria had been laid plain his voice. His throat throbbed where Thanos's fingers had once crushed it. Perhaps Loki should have let him. Dying that way would have hurt less than now, here, by the phantoms of everyone he had ever hurt.

You said his name again. He shook his head. Almost blindly, he stumbled through the shadows to the door, yanked it open, and stepped outside. Loki stood there on the step for a moment or two, breathing in the acrid smell of burning stew behind him before he pulled the door shut. Then he staggered off toward the quiet trees with little idea of where he was actually going.

The cold quickly leached beneath his tunic, but that he could handle. What he was not so sure of was his ability to handle any more heartbreak that night or, indeed, for the rest of his life.

******

Loki returned, for where else had he to go? The idea of turning to the Avengers for shelter he found laughable, and surely Thor wouldn't want him anywhere near New Asgard. Besides, Loki would miss his chickens—and he'd been in enough relationships during his life to know that an occasional nighttime walk did wonders to cool his head.

Wonders, yes; miracles, no. Although each sunrise since the Snap had felt like a miracle to him, the days following Thor's sudden reappearance twisted into a discomfiting slog. Each day followed the same routine: Loki would wake in an empty cabin with a neatly folded pile of quilts on the floor near the bed; he would eat the single roll on the counter; and he would gather his things and move mechanically through the chores that needed done even when he felt as though he were limping through a void. These would fill his time until he returned to the vacant bed to start again.

Two days he followed this routine before it grew too tiresome to ponder continuing for the rest of his life. What if his path led nowhere but to day after day after Borforsaken day of banal work and loneliness? Loki might have been prepared to accede to Thor's claims of his cravenness; he had not been so prepared to consider death at Thanos's hands may have been the better option for him.

And so he turned to the one activity that could stop him from thinking about the end of life: The beginning of it.

The cool spring midmorning appeared perfect for transplanting the pea seedlings he had picked up from their growing space on a windowsill back in the cottage. He knelt on a flat cushion of sorts in the midst of the mostly-bare garden to get to work. All he could hear was the chilly breeze blowing through the surrounding trees, their new leaves still too young to provide any noise of their own. His pale fingers worked the freshly-tilled dirt as he mentally measured the distance between plants.

Perhaps if Thor had had occasion to see Loki like this, elbow-deep in homemade chicken compost, he might have understood things a little better.

"Loki."

He did not turn away from his work at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?" he asked evenly.

This was the first time you'd approached him since the argument. Obviously, you'd returned home a number of times, but only after he'd fallen asleep, and only to disappear again before he awoke. Loki half-expected you to leave again. A long pause followed his question before you surprised him by asking:

"Are you really going to make me say it?"

"I think that's the best way to open up negotiations, yes."

"Negotiations?"

Loki carefully piled a small mound of dirt around a recently-planted sprout. It waved back and forth as if to say thank you.

"I'm sorry," you said.

He adjusted the bamboo trellis embedded in the dirt behind his peas.

"I should have told you as soon as I found out about Thor. I didn't know for long. Natasha only told me when she knew he'd be coming to help them out, but it wasn't fair to you to keep it a secret."

Slowly, without moving his head at all, Loki sat up. His filthy fingers curled around his knees.

"I didn't want you to leave. I knew how much Thor meant to you, and I knew you'd go to New Asgard to see him. And what then? Would you ever come back?"

"That's hard to say when I was never given a choice in the matter."

Another length bout of silence. This time, however, Loki could hear something else over the wind: A soft sniffling that nearly had him moving to comfort you—nearly.

"You were right, Loki. I was scared."

"Scared of what?" he asked.

How could you be scared of anything? He himself had witnessed the power at your fingertips more than once, and Steve and Natasha certainly had tales to tell of your prowess. Surely nothing on Midgard existed to threaten the likes of you after all this time.

Now he risked a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. Never before had he seen you distraught. Flustered, yes. Angry, absolutely. Undone, perhaps fewer times than he'd have liked. But he could tell even from a distance that you hadn't slept since your fight a few days ago. Pronounced bags clung the bottoms of your eyelids, and you rubbed your hands together in obvious agitation. The urge to go to you grew stronger still.

"I've never belonged anywhere before you came along," you said in a rough whisper.

All his willpower shattered at the moment your voice broke. He half-rose, twisting toward you, unable to feign absolute disinterest any longer. Perhaps he might have drawn closer to you, had you allowed him. But you held out your hands with the fingers wide to indicate you needed him to keep his distance. Loki did, although he said softly:

"[Name], that's not true."

"I kept trying to find a place, but no one wanted me."

"You have the Avengers."

"They aren't—" You gripped your elbow tightly in the opposite hand as you turned your face away. "They aren't home."

Before he could speak—whether to dissuade you, or ask for more details, or even to put an abrupt end to this tête-à-tête, he had no idea himself—you barreled onward, apparently under the impression that if he did not let you say all this now, Loki never would.

"I've been here for a long time, a very long time. People move into that building. People move out. Sometimes they bother to get to know me. Most of the time they don't. It doesn't matter either way, because they all leave in the end. Steve, Natasha, Rhodey...they'll all leave permanently someday, too."

So intent on listening had he been that he flinched when you looked directly into his eyes.

"You're the only one who's ever stayed.

He could think of nothing more to say than, weakly, "If you're so desperate for company that someone too injured and cowardly to leave is appealing—"

"You are not a coward, Loki."

"This is not about me," he said, then added, "unusual though that may be. For now, we are talking about you."

"I don't know what else it is you need me to say."

Truthfully, he needed nothing. An apology had been all he desired, and you'd returned with that and an admission that he'd been in the right. So slowly, as though he were trying to sneak up on a snoozing Thane Regin with a pair of shears, he stepped in your direction.

"Pretending for one moment that your attachment to me is anything other than imprinting on an admittedly very charismatic invalid—"

You snorted.

"—why not tell me? Why not come to New Asgard with me?"

The hand on your elbow went pale with the force of your grasp. "I am not as Asgardian."

"Neither am I, as you well know."

"I am tired of trying to figure out where I belong. I tried just about everywhere. I will not be cast out again." You blinked at him fiercely. "If you want to go, you should go. Be with your people. Reconcile with your brother. I only wanted to let you know that you are precious to me, even if I acted poorly because of that."

The spell your gaze cast on him snapped. You both averted your eyes. It did not take Loki so long to recover. He found himself drawing in a deep breath of remarkably fresh air before closing the remaining gap between you. When he took the hand dangling your side, you inhaled sharply as you looked up at him. Encouraged, he squeezed your fingers.

"I will reconcile with my brother, when he is ready. But you're my people, [Name]. You ought to know that by now. Maybe I will desire to visit New Asgard someday. Know this, however: As long as you want me, I shall always return to you."

After another pause, you returned the squeeze. "I think it's safe to say I'll always want you. But I might be glad for an occasional break, now I think of it. It would be nice having my bed to myself from time to time."

"Without me to warm it, you won't sleep a wink."

Rather than reply, you broke into a smile as dazzling as the sun hanging over the forest. He felt the familiar warm hook of your palm at the back of his neck, then you pulled his lips down to yours for a long, lingering kiss.

"I love you, you realize," he murmured once you parted.

"Oh, my gods," you said breathlessly through a half-open mouth.

"Yes, I am rather impressive. It comes from centuries of practice. Why, my last partner—"

You cuffed him lightly on the back of his head. "No, Loki. Look!"

So he pulled away and did as you instructed—and what he saw took his breath away as well.

Where his sparse rows of tender pea shoots had been only minutes ago, now a multitude of plants threatened to crowd one another out. Extra trees and their roots intruded on the edges of the garden. Bees, butterflies, and birdsong filled the clearing in which you and Loki stood.

He felt his throat contract, but no words left his mouth.

You, meanwhile, lifted shaking hands to your mouth. "They did it."

"Who?"

"The Avengers."

"Did what?"

"They did it!" Now you shrieked, practically dancing in place. "They figured it out! They got the Infinity Stones! It worked!"

"The Infinity—is that what you were all doing that day?"

"Tony and Bruce made a time machine. We weren't sure that it would work, but..."

"It did," Loki finished for you, somewhat dazed himself.

It was back. It was all back. He did not have to leave this place to know that not only had Thor and his friends done the impossible to bring plant life back to this planet, but that beings of all natures would be returning across the entire universe.

But, of course, the galaxy never had been willing to give Loki Odinson a lingering period of peace and happiness. Every time he felt he stood once more on solid ground, the realms tilted on their axes. This occasion would be no different. No sooner had he realized the sparkling tears of joy in your eyes were reflected in his own than did a shadow fall—literally—across the entire woods.

Above, soaring through the once-radiant blue sky, winged a great, dark ship.

Thanos had returned.

In the span of a breath, you bounded in the direction of the Avengers' home. Loki felt all the blood rush from his face. That he remained standing was itself a miracle. He felt suddenly dizzy. His heart rushed. Black crept into the edges of his vision.

Just before you disappeared into the newly-thickened forest, he managed to croak, "Where are you going?"

You stopped to look over your shoulder at him. "You don't need me this time around. I'm going to go help them fight."

Loki pressed his shaking lips together. He could stay. He could stay, and be as safe as anyone could be when Thanos and his children arrived. With a shake of his head, he crossed to you.

"I'll always need you. We'll go together."

You smiled again. Then you both ran, hand in hand, towards the clangor of battle erupting from not too far away. What would come of this whole affair, Loki did not know. What he did know was that if this was dying, death was not so nearly as horrible as he'd feared.